On the 2(7?)th, the Wanyamwezi having started, we broke camp soon after at 7 am. The country was of the same nature as that lying between the Kingani and Kikokaa park land, attractive and beautiful in every feature.
I rode in advance to secure meat should a chance present itself, but not the shadow of vert or venison did I see. Ever in our front—westerly—rolled the land-waves, now rising, now subsiding, parallel one with the other, like a ploughed field many times magnified. Each ridge had its knot of jungle or its thin combing of heavily foliaged trees, until we arrived close to Rosako, our next halting place, when the monotonous wavure of the land underwent a change, breaking into independent hummocks clad with dense jungle. On one of these, veiled by an impenetrable jungle of thorny acacia, rested Rosako; girt round by its natural fortification, neighbouring another village to the north of it similarly protected. Between them sank a valley extremely fertile and bountiful in its productions, bisected by a small stream, which serves as a drain to the valley or low hills surrounding it.
Rosako is the frontier village of Ukwere, while Kikoka is the north-western extremity of Uzaramo. We entered this village, and occupied its central portion with our tents and animals. A kitanda, or square light bedstead, without valance, fringe, or any superfluity whatever, but nevertheless quite as comfortable as with them, was brought to my tent for my use by the village chief. The animals were, immediately after being unloaded, driven out to feed, and the soldiers to a man set to work to pile the baggage up, lest the rain, which during the Masika season always appears imminent, might cause irreparable damage.
Among other experiments which I was about to try in Africa was that of a good watch-dog on any unmannerly people who would insist upon coming into my tent at untimely hours and endangering valuables. Especially did I wish to try the effect of its bark on the mighty Wagogo, who, I was told by certain Arabs, would lift the door of the tent and enter whether you wished them or not; who would chuckle at the fear they inspired, and say to you, "Hi, hi, white man, I never saw the like of you before; are there many more like you? where do you come from?" Also would they take hold of your watch and ask you with a cheerful curiosity, "What is this for, white man?" to which you of course would reply that it was to tell you the hour and minute. But the Mgogo, proud of his prowess, and more unmannerly than a brute, would answer you with a snort of insult. I thought of a watch-dog, and procured a good one at Bombay not only as a faithful companion, but to threaten the heels of just such gentry.
But soon after our arrival at Rosako it was found that the dog, whose name was "Omar," given him from his Turkish origin, was missing; he had strayed away from the soldiers during a rain-squall and had got lost. I despatched Mabruki Burton back to Kikoka to search for him. On the following morning, just as we were about to leave Rosako, the faithful fellow returned with the lost dog, having found him at Kikoka.
Previous to our departure on the morning after this, Maganga, chief of the fourth caravan, brought me the unhappy report that three of his pagazis were sick, and he would like to have some "dowa"—medicine. Though not a doctor, or in any way connected with the profession, I had a well-supplied medicine chest—without which no traveller in Africa could live—for just such a contingency as was now present. On visiting Maganga's sick men, I found one suffering from inflammation of the lungs, another from the mukunguru (African intermittent). They all imagined themselves about to die, and called loudly for "Mama!" "Mama!" though they were all grown men. It was evident that the fourth caravan could not stir that day, so leaving word with Magauga to hurry after me as soon as possible, I issued orders for the march of my own.
Excepting in the neighbourhood of the villages which we have passed there were no traces of cultivation. The country extending between the several stations is as much a wilderness as the desert of Sahara, though it possesses a far more pleasing aspect. Indeed, had the first man at the time of the Creation gazed at his world and perceived it of the beauty which belongs to this part of Africa, he would have had no cause of complaint. In the deep thickets, set like islets amid a sea of grassy verdure, he would have found shelter from the noonday heat, and a safe retirement for himself and spouse during the awesome darkness. In the morning he could have walked forth on the sloping sward, enjoyed its freshness, and performed his ablutions in one of the many small streams flowing at its foot. His garden of fruit-trees is all that is required; the noble forests, deep and cool, are round about him, and in their shade walk as many animals as one can desire. For days and days let a man walk in any direction, north, south, east, and west, and he will behold the same scene.
Earnestly as I wished to hurry on to Unyanyembe, still a heart-felt anxiety about the arrival of my goods carried by the fourth caravan, served as a drag upon me and before my caravan had marched nine miles my anxiety had risen to the highest pitch, and caused me to order a camp there and then. The place selected for it was near a long straggling sluice, having an abundance of water during the rainy season, draining as it does two extensive slopes. No sooner had we pitched our camp, built a boma of thorny acacia, and other tree branches, by stacking them round our camp, and driven our animals to grass; than we were made aware of the formidable number and variety of the insect tribe, which for a time was another source of anxiety, until a diligent examination of the several species dispelled it.
As it was a most interesting hunt which I instituted for the several specimens of the insects, I here append the record of it for what it is worth. My object in obtaining these specimens was to determine whether the genus Glossina morsitans of the naturalist, or the tsetse (sometimes called setse) of Livingstone, Vardon, and Gumming, said to be deadly to horses, was amongst them. Up to this date I had been nearly two months in East Africa, and had as yet seen no tsetse; and my horses, instead of becoming emaciated—for such is one of the symptoms of a tsetse bite—had considerably improved in condition. There were three different species of flies which sought shelter in my tent, which, unitedly, kept up a continual chorus of sounds—one performed the basso profondo, another a tenor, and the third a weak contralto. The first emanated from a voracious and fierce fly, an inch long, having a ventral capacity for blood quite astonishing.
This larger fly was the one chosen for the first inspection, which was of the intensest. I permitted one to alight on my flannel pyjamas, which I wore while en deshabille in camp. No sooner had he alighted than his posterior was raised, his head lowered, and his weapons, consisting of four hair-like styles, unsheathed from the proboscis-like bag which concealed them, and immediately I felt pain like that caused by a dexterous lancet-cut or the probe of a fine needle. I permitted him to gorge himself, though my patience and naturalistic interest were sorely tried. I saw his abdominal parts distend with the plenitude of the repast until it had swollen to three times its former shrunken girth, when he flew away of his own accord laden with blood. On rolling up my flannel pyjamas to see the fountain whence the fly had drawn the fluid, I discovered it to be a little above the left knee, by a crimson bead resting over the incision. After wiping the blood the wound was similar to that caused by a deep thrust of a fine needle, but all pain had vanished with the departure of the fly.