The road struck into a banana grove, then through a flat country fairly well wooded with a variety of trees, including many palms and a few baobabs. The native huts dotted over this rich flat are the best I have seen in Africa. The roofs are trimly thatched, and a rude carving adorns door-post and lintel. After seven miles the Rukuru is crossed—a fine stream rippling over the sand, with large flakes of mica tumbling about in the current, and sampling the rocks of the distant hills. The men laid down their loads, and sprawled about like crocodiles in the water as I waded across. A few yards off is a village, where a fire was quickly lit, and the entire population turned out to watch the white man nibble his lunch. The consumption at this meal being somewhat slight, and the menu strange to my audience, I saw that they regarded the white man's effort at nutrition with feelings of contempt. "The M'sungu eats nothing," whispered one, "he must die." The head man presently came asking beads; but, as I had none unpacked, two stray trinkets and a spoonful of salt more than satisfied him. On getting the salt he deftly twisted a leaf into a little bag, and after pouring all the salt into it, graciously held out his hand to a troop of small boys who crowded round, and received one lick each of his empty palm. Salt is perhaps the greatest luxury and the greatest rarity the north-end African can have, and the avidity with which these young rascals received their homœopathic allowance proved the instinctiveness of the want. I have often offered native boys the choice between a pinch of salt and a knot of sugar, and they never failed to choose the first. For return-present the chief made over to me two large gourds filled with curds, of which, of course, I pretended to drink deeply before passing it on to the men.
Three miles of the same country, with tall bean-plants about, castor oil, and maize, but no villages in sight. Bananas unusually fine, and Borassus everywhere. At the tenth or eleventh mile we reached the fringe of hills bordering the higher lands, and, taking advantage of a passage about half a mile wide which has been cut by the river, penetrated the first barrier—a low rounded hill of conglomerate, fine in texture, and of a dark-red-color. Flanking this for two miles, we entered a broad oval expansion among the hills, the site apparently of a former lake. Winding along with the river for a mile or two more, and passing through a narrow and romantic glen, we emerged in a second valley, and camped for the night on the banks of the stream. On the opposite side stood a few native huts, and the occupants, after much reconnoitring, were induced to exchange some ufa and sweet potatoes for a little cloth.
1st October.—Moolu peered into my tent with the streak of dawn to announce a catastrophe. Four of the men had run away during the night. All was going so well yesterday that I flattered myself I was to be spared this traditional experience—the most exasperating of all the traveller's woes, for the whole march must be delayed until fresh recruits are enlisted to carry the deserters' loads. The delinquents were all Bandawé men. They had no complaint. They stole nothing. It was a simple case of want of pluck. They were going into a strange land. The rainy season was coming on. Their loads were full-weight. So they got homesick and ran. I had three more Bandawé men in the caravan, and, knowing well that the moment they heard the news they would go and do likewise, I ordered them to be told what had happened and then sent to my tent. In a few moments they appeared; but what to say to them? Their dialect was quite strange to me, and yet I felt I must impress them somehow. Like the judge putting on the black cap, I drew my revolver from under my pillow, and, laying it before me, proceeded to address them. Beginning with a few general remarks on the weather, I first briefly sketched the geology of Africa, and then broke into an impassioned defence of the British Constitution. The three miserable sinners—they had done nothing in the world—quaked like aspens. I then followed up my advantage by intoning in a voice of awful solemnity, the enunciation of the Forty-Seventh Proposition of Euclid, and then threw my all into a blood-curdling Quod erat demonstrandum. Scene two followed when I was alone; I turned on my pillow and wept for shame. It was a prodigious piece of rascality, but I cannot imagine anything else that would have done, and it succeeded perfectly. These men were to the end the most faithful I had. They felt thenceforth they owed me their lives; for, according to African custom, the sins of their fellow-tribesmen should have been visited upon them with the penalty of death.
Seyid and Moolu scoured the country at once for more carriers, but met with blank refusals on every side. Many natives passed the camp, but they seemed in unusual haste, and something of local importance was evidently going on. We were not long in doubt as to its nature. It was war. The Angoni were in force behind a neighboring hill, and had already killed one man. This might have been startling, but I treated it as a piece of gossip, until suddenly a long string of armed and painted men appeared in sight and rushed past me at the double. They kept perfect step, running in single file, their feet adorned with anklets of rude bells which jingled in time and formed quite a martial accompaniment. The center man held aloft a small red and white flag, and each warrior carried a large shield and several light barbed spears. The regiment was led by a fantastic looking creature, who played a hideous slogan on a short pan-pipe. This main body was followed at intervals by groups of twos and threes who had been hastily summoned from their work, and I must say the whole turnout looked very like business. The last of the warriors had scarcely disappeared before another procession of a different sort set in from the opposite direction. It consisted of the women and children from the threatened villages farther up the valley. It was a melting sight. The poor creatures were of all ages and sizes, from the tottering grandmother to the week old infant. On their heads they carried a miscellaneous collection of household gods, and even the little children were burdened with a calabash, a grass-mat, a couple of fowls, or a handful of sweet-potatoes. Probably the entire effects of the villages were represented in these loads. Amongst the fugitives were a few goats and one or two calves, and a troop of boys brought up the rear driving before them a herd of cows. The poor creatures quickened their pace as they passed my tent, and eyed me as furtively as if I and my men had been a detachment from the Angoni executing a flank movement. The hamlet opposite our camp, across the river, which had gladdened us the night before with its twinkling fires, its inhabitants sitting peacefully at their doors or fishing in the stream, was already deserted—the men to fight, the woman to flee for their lives they knew not whither. This is a common chapter in African history. Except among the very largest tribes no man can call his home his own for a month.
I was amazed at the way my men treated the affair. They lounged about camp with the most perfect indifference. This was accounted for by my presence. The mere presence of a white man is considered an absolute guarantee of safety in remoter Africa. It is not his gun or his imposing retinue; it is simply himself. He is not mortal, he is a spirit. Had I not been there, or had I shown the white feather, my men would have stampeded for Nyassa in a body. I had learned to understand the feeling so thoroughly that the events of the morning gave me no concern whatever, and I spent the day collecting in the usual way.
It was impossible to go on and leave the loads; it was equally impossible to get carriers at hand. So I despatched Seyid with a letter to the station on the Lake requesting six or eight natives to be sent from there. This meant a delay of two or three days at least, which, with the rains so near, was serious for me.
Made a "fly" for the tent, collected, and read. One only feels the heat when doing nothing. As the sun climbed to its zenith my men put up for themselves the most enticing bowers. They were ingeniously made with interlacing grasses and canes, and densely thatched with banana leaves.
Tried twice to bake bread, with Jingo and Moolu as assistant cooks. Both attempts dismal failures, so I had to draw on the biscuit-tins. I have plenty of fowls, bought yesterday for beads. Maraya down with fever. One of the carriers, Siamuka, who had been left behind sick, straggled into camp, looking very ill indeed. Physicked him and gave him four yards of cloth to wrap himself in. Towards sunset I began to get anxious for news of battle. The arrival of the armed band which had passed in the morning soon gratified me. There had been no battle. There had been no Angoni. It was simply a scare—one of those false alarms which people in these unsettled circumstances are constantly liable to. All evening the women and children were trooping back to their homes; and next morning our friends opposite were smoking their pipes at the doors again, as if nothing had happened.
Tuesday, 2d October—After morning cocoa had a walk with my hammer to examine the sections in the valley. Back to a good breakfast, cooked with all the art of Jingo, the real cook being at Karongas with the flag of distress. Moolu ill. This is the third man down with fever since we left the Lake. Bought some ufa and beans. Dispensed needles, and bent pins for fish-hooks, among the men. Held a great washing with Jingo. Towards the afternoon the reinforcements arrived from Karongas. The chief was drunk, it appeared, when my messenger reached him; but Mr. Munro at the Lake kindly sent me a number of his own men.
Another of my carriers begged leave to dissolve our partnership, and produced two youths whom he had beguiled into taking his load. His plea was that he was in bad odor at Mweni-wanda, and was afraid to go on. My own impression is that he found the load which he carried—on his head, like all Africans—was spoiling the cut of his hair. Even Africa has its exquisites, and this man was the swell all over. By "all over," I mean, of course, all over his head, for as his hair is his only clothing, except the bark loin cloth of which the cut cannot well be varied, he had poured out the whole of his great soul upon his coiffure. At the best the African's hair is about the length of a toy-shop poodle's; but vanity can make even a fool creative, and out of this scanty material and with extraordinary labor he had compiled a masterpiece. First, heavily greased with ground-nut oil, it was made up into small-sized balls like black-currants, and then divided into symmetrical patterns, diamonds, circles, and parterres, designed with the skill of a landscape-gardener. To protect this work of art from nightly destruction, this gentleman always carried with him a pillow of special make. It was constructed of wood, and dangled conspicuously from his spear-head on the march. He sold it to me ultimately for a yard of calico—and he certainly would not sleep after the transaction till he had laid the foundations of another.