25th February, 1871.—So we went on, and found that it was now known that the Lualaba flowed west-south-west, and that our course was to be west across this other great bend of the mighty river. I had to suspend my judgment, so as to be prepared to find it after all perhaps the Congo. No one knew anything about it except that when at Kasongo's nine days west, and by south it came sweeping round and flowed north and north and by east.
Katomba presented a young soko or gorillah that had been caught while its mother was killed; she sits eighteen inches high, has fine long black hair all over, which was pretty so long as it was kept in order by her dam. She is the least mischievous of all the monkey tribe I have seen, and seems to know that in me she has a friend, and sits quietly on the mat beside me. In walking, the first thing observed is that she does not tread on the palms of her hands, but on the backs of the second line of bones of the hands: in doing this the nails do not touch the ground, nor do the knuckles; she uses the arms thus supported crutch fashion, and hitches herself along between them; occasionally one hand is put down before the other, and alternates with the feet, or she walks upright and holds up a hand to any one to carry her. If refused, she turns her face down, and makes grimaces of the most bitter human weeping, wringing her hands, and sometimes adding a fourth hand or foot to make the appeal more touching. Grass or leaves she draws around her to make a nest, and resents anyone meddling with her property. She is a most friendly little beast, and came up to me at once, making her chirrup of welcome, smelled my clothing, and held out her hand to be shaken. I slapped her palm without offence, though she winced. She began to untie the cord with which she was afterwards bound, with fingers and thumbs, in quite a systematic way, and on being interfered with by a man looked daggers, and screaming tried to beat him with her hands: she was afraid of his stick, and faced him, putting her back to me as a friend. She holds out her hand for people to lift her up and carry her, quite like a spoiled child; then bursts into a passionate cry, somewhat like that of a kite, wrings her hands quite naturally, as if in despair. She eats everything, covers herself with a mat to sleep, and makes a nest of grass or leaves, and wipes her face with a leaf.
I presented my double-barrelled gun which is at Ujiji to Katomba, as he has been very kind when away from Ujiji: I pay him thus for all his services. He gave me the soko, and will carry it to Ujiji for me; I have tried to refund all that the Arabs expended on me.
1st March, 1871.—I was to start this morning, but the Arabs asked me to take seven of their people going to buy biramba, as they know the new way: the offer was gladly accepted.
2nd to 5th March, 1871.—Left Mamohela, and travelled over fine grassy plains, crossing in six hours fourteen running rills, from three to ten or fifteen feet broad, and from calf to thigh deep. Tree-covered mountains on both sides. The natives know the rills by names, and readily tell their courses, and which falls into which, before all go into the great Lualaba; but without one as a guide, no one can put them in a map. We came to Monanbunda's villages, and spent the night. Our next stage was at Monangongo's. A small present of a few strings of beads satisfies, but is not asked: I give it invariably as acknowledgment for lodgings. The headman of our next stage hid himself in fear, as we were near to the scene of Bin Juma's unprovoked slaughter of five men, for tusks that were not stolen, but thrown down. Our path lay through dense forest, and again, on 5th, our march was in the same dense jungle of lofty trees and vegetation that touch our arms on each side. We came to some villages among beautiful tree-covered hills, called Basilañgé or Mobasilangé. The villages are very pretty, standing on slopes. The main street generally lies east and west, to allow the bright sun to stream his clear hot rays from one end to the other, and lick up quickly the moisture from the frequent showers which is not drained off by the slopes. A little verandah is often made in front of the door, and here at dawn the family gathers round a fire, and, while enjoying the heat needed in the cold that always accompanies the first darting of the light or sun's rays across the atmosphere, inhale the delicious air, and talk over their little domestic affairs. The various shaped leaves of the forest all around their village and near their nestlings are bespangled with myriads of dewdrops. The cocks crow vigorously, and strut and ogle; the kids gambol and leap on the backs of their dams quietly chewing the cud; other goats make believe fighting. Thrifty wives often bake their new clay pots in a fire, made by lighting a heap of grass roots: the next morning they extract salt from the ashes, and so two birds are killed with one stone. The beauty of this morning scene of peaceful enjoyment is indescribable. Infancy gilds the fairy picture with its own lines, and it is probably never forgotten, for the young, taken up from slavers, and treated with all philanthropic missionary care and kindness, still revert to the period of infancy as the finest and fairest they have known. They would go back to freedom and enjoyment as fast as would our own sons of the soil, and be heedless to the charms of hard work and no play which we think so much better for them if not for us.
In some cases we found all the villages deserted; the people had fled at our approach, in dread of repetitions of the outrages of Arab slaves. The doors were all shut: a bunch of the leaves of reeds or of green reeds placed across them, means "no entrance here." A few stray chickens wander about wailing, having hid themselves while the rest were caught and carried off into the deep forest, and the still smoking fires tell the same tale of recent flight from the slave-traders.
Many have found out that I am not one of their number, so in various cases they stand up and call out loudly, "Bolongo, Bolongo!" "Friendship, Friendship!" They sell their fine iron bracelets eagerly for a few beads; for (bracelets seem out of fashion since beads came in), but they are of the finest quality of iron, and were they nearer Europe would be as eagerly sought and bought as horse-shoe nails are for the best gun-barrels. I overhear the Manyuema telling each other that I am the "good one." I have no slaves, and I owe this character to the propagation of a good name by the slaves of Zanzibar, who are anything but good themselves. I have seen slaves belonging to the seven men now with us slap the cheeks of grown men who had offered food for sale; it was done in sheer wantonness, till I threatened to thrash them if I saw it again; but out of my sight they did it still, and when I complained to the masters they confessed that all the mischief was done by slaves; for the Manyuema, on being insulted, lose temper and use their spears on the nasty curs, and then vengeance is taken with guns. Free men behave better than slaves; the bondmen are not responsible. The Manyuema are far more beautiful than either the bond or free of Zanzibar; I overhear the remark often, "If we had Manyuema wives what beautiful children we should beget." The men are usually handsome, and many of the women are very pretty; hands, feet, limbs, and forms perfect in shape and the colour light-brown, but the orifices of the nose are widened by snuff-takers, who ram it up as far as they can with the finger and thumb: the teeth are not filed, except a small space between the two upper front teeth.
5th March, 1871.—We heard to-day that Mohamad's people passed us on the west, with much ivory. I lose thus twenty copper rings I was to take from them, and all the notes they were to make for me of the rivers they crossed.
6th March, 1871.—Passed through very large villages, with many forges in active work; some men followed us, as if to fight, but we got them to turn peaceably: we don't know who are enemies, so many have been maltreated and had relatives killed. The rain of yesterday made the paths so slippery that the feet of all were sorely fatigued, and on coming to Manyara's, I resolved to rest on 7th near Mount Kimazi. I gave a cloth and beads in lieu of a fine fat goat from the chief, a clever, good man.
9th March, 1871.—We marched about five hours across a grassy plain without trees—buga or prairie. The torrid sun, nearly vertical, sent his fierce rays down, and fatigued us all: we crossed two Sokoyé streams by bridges, and slept at a village on a ridge of woodland overlooking Kasonga. After two hours this morning, we came to villages of this chief, and at one were welcomed by the Safari of Salem Mokadam, and I was given a house. Kasonga is a very fine young man, with European features, and "very clever and good." He is clever, and is pronounced good, because he eagerly joins the Arabs in marauding! Seeing the advantage of firearms, he has bought four muskets. Mohamad's people were led by his, and spent all their copper for some fifty frasilahs of good ivory. From this party men have been sent over Lualaba, and about fifty frasilahs obtained: all praise Kasonga. We were now only six miles from Lualaba, and yet south of Mamohela; this great river, in fact, makes a second great sweep to the west of some 130 miles, and there are at least 30' of southing; but now it comes rolling majestically to the north, and again makes even easting. It is a mighty stream, with many islands in it, and is never wadeable at any point or at any time of the year.