A cold white mist came up in the afternoon, and put all thoughts of scenery away, driving us to refuge in tightly-closed tents.
Next day we mounted still higher--about 7,000 ft.--and the scenery amply repaid the exertion. From thence we made a rapid descent by a path so steep and rough that we had to glissade at times with the aid of a strong spear. At the villages here we found the people wearing wooden tweezers on their noses; on inquiry we discovered that they injected snuff mixed with water, and then put the apparatus on to keep the concoction from wasting away at once. A day or two later we reached the lake-shore, and the path, such as it was, came to an end. We now had to make our way along the shingle. The bush overhung the water every few yards, and as it was mostly mimosa, or other equally prickly matter, we had to wade round to avoid it--often up to our middles in the water--while an occasional mountain torrent necessitated our being carried on our boys' shoulders. As the lake was swarming with crocodiles, this was rather exciting. Our Nyassa boys, who had earned the name of the Guinea-fowls, owing to their dress of dark-blue bird's-eye cotton and greeny-blue fezzes, had been a great comfort, pitching our tents and doing all the little odd jobs inseparable from camp life, and we were congratulating ourselves on having some natives of a different race to our Manyema porters.
The heat and continual wetting now began to tell on the fever which we had not been able to shake off, so we hired two big canoes, and putting our deck-chairs in the largest, over which we rigged up an awning, we proceeded by water while our boys plodded through the shingle. On reaching the halting-place after our first day's canoeing, we were horrified to find that our ten Askaris and the cook had bolted, leaving their rifles and bayonets on the path. Though I was bad with fever I got a fresh crew for the big canoe, and made all haste back to our last night's camp. Nothing was to be seen or heard of the fugitives, and though I offered the Sultani (chief) of the village heavy rewards for each captive, we never heard any more of them, but trust that they did not escape their deserts when they reached Ujiji, if the natives on the way let them go free, which is more than doubtful. I had left Sharp to try his 'prentice hand at cooking, and returning wet through, very tired and full of fever, found his attempt at soup had ended in a few bones and a blob of fat at the bottom of the pan! The heat was intense, never a breath of air, and no shade, while the rays of the burning sun were refracted from the face of the water. At every camp one or more of the neighbouring chiefs came to pay his respects, bringing with him a present, according to his standing, of pombe, native beer, bananas, three or four fowls, and in the case of a big "swell," two or three goats or sheep. Each chief was followed by as large a retinue as he could gather, and most of them were dressed in semi-Arab fashion--a long, white shirt or "kanzu," a coloured cloth, and a turban or white head-dress. The natives had many knives of local manufacture, the sheaths of which were ornamented with well-carved patterns, while their spears were very thin and light, and often adorned with brass and copper wire. Of course we had to make return presents of cloth and beads to an equal value. Eggs were rather hard to obtain, and it was still more difficult to make the natives believe that we did not want them for electioneering purposes. My fever was now so bad that I had to depute my baking to Sharp, who was becoming quite a passable cook under my tuition, and retire to bed as soon as I could get my tent pitched. To add to our enjoyment Sharp got a sunstroke and a dose of fever, and we were consequently reduced to the most pitiable plight. My temperature went up to 106.9, and left me too weak to move, while Sharp, ill as he was, made superhuman efforts to look after me. At last, after several days of intolerable misery, we eventually arrived at Usambara, where the German official, Lieutenant von Gravert, took us in hand. Under his care we recovered slightly.
Usambara, with characteristic German thoroughness, has been well laid out. Substantial buildings have been put up, good gardens made, and an immense avenue of pawpaws and bananas planted from the Government House to the lake shore. A small sailing-boat adds materially to the comfort and efficiency of the commanding officer.
Every morning a large market is held, and the natives bring in enormous supplies of fish, bananas, beans, grains of different sort (even rice), and fowls. The German black troops keep splendid order, and the station has the most flourishing air. I am a great believer in the Germans' African methods. Of course they are severely handicapped by having such a poor country to work upon. But their methods are thorough and eminently practical, and not characterized by the stinginess which paralyzes most of our African efforts. The men selected for the work are given a practically free hand, and are not cramped by the ignorant babblings of sentimentalism.
CHAPTER IX.
THE RUSISI VALLEY.
At last, on May 7th, we were sufficiently recovered to move, and bidding farewell to our good friend, Lieutenant von Gravert, we left Usambara and made a short march along the lake shore to Kijaga, a deserted Government station near the most easterly mouth of the Rusisi.
Being still much too weak to walk, I was carried in a hammock slung from a pole by a team of twelve natives of Usige kindly recruited for me by Lieutenant von Gravert, who were to take me to Dr. Kandt's headquarters on Kivu, where the climate of the highlands, it was hoped, would render me sufficiently strong to continue my journey on foot.
After the trained "machila" teams of Nyassaland they were very crude, and many amusing incidents arose from their inexperience. However, they were willing, and served me very well.