We met a caravan from Zanzibar at this place belonging to Tippu-Tib, and the Manyuema reported that the coast war between the Germans and Coast Arabs was still proceeding, but that the Germans had commenced to be victorious.
On the 26th we entered Muhalala, and by the 8th of November we had passed through Ugogo. There is no country in Africa that has excited greater interest in me than this. It is a ferment of trouble and distraction, and a vermin of petty annoyances beset the travellers from day to day while in it. No natives know so well how to aggrieve and be unpleasant to travellers. One would think there was a school somewhere in Ugogo to teach low cunning and vicious malice to the chiefs, who are masters in foxy-craft. Nineteen years ago I looked at this land and people with desiring eyes. I saw in it a field worth some effort to reclaim. In six months I felt sure Ugogo could be made lovely and orderly, a blessing to the inhabitants and to strangers, without any very great expense or trouble; it would become a pleasant highway of human intercourse with far-away peoples, productive of wealth to the natives, and comfort to caravans. I learned on arrival in Ugogo that I was for ever debarred from the hope. It is to be the destiny of the Germans to carry out this work, and I envy them. It is the worst news of all that I shall never be able to drain this cesspool of iniquitous passion, and extinguish the insolence of Wagogo chiefs, and make the land clean, healthy, and even beautiful of view. While my best wishes will accompany German efforts, my mind is clouded with a doubt that it ever will be that fair land of rest and welcome I had dreamed of making it.
1889.
Oct. 26.
Ugogo.
Two days beyond Ugogo we entered the German Station of Mpwapwa, and were welcomed by Lieutenant Rochus Schmidt, who had arrived about a month previous, escorted by Major Wissman, who was said to be the Imperial Commissary of German East Africa. He had already erected a stone breastwork around his little camp, which contained 100 Zulus, on a commanding but windy spot that must needs be fatal to many a white officer whose misfortune it may be to be appointed Military Commandant of Mpwapwa.
The Rev. Mr. Price paid us a visit, and among other benefits resulting from his presence we obtained a year’s issue of the ‘Weekly Times.’ In turning over the pages of the voluminous history of the past year, I was impressed by nothing more than by the smoothness and easy groove in which events were running, without jar or sensible vibration. The hum of their travel seemed to be like that which we hear on a drowsy summer’s day at a country house in England, remote from the roll of street traffic and the thundering rush of express trains. A distant murmuring sound of railway waggons gliding over a pair of rails impresses the dull ear, amid the quiet and repose, that the world is spinning safely along without rack or tear. England was still at anchor amidst the silver seas; the Empire was where it ought to be; Europe was amusing herself with peaceful drill, and America was gathering her splendid harvests, and filling the Treasury cellars with gold ingots and silver bricks.
1889.
Oct. 26.
Ugogo.
On the 13th, accompanied by Lieutenant Schmidt, the Expedition, about 700 strong, moved from Mpwapwa towards the coast, and five days later exchanged the parched aspect of the thorny wilderness of the interior for one that was fragrant with the perfume of lilies, and pleasant with the verdure of spring. After a two hours’ march from Muini Usagara, we defiled out of the Mukondokwa Valley, and emerged into the plain of the Makata, the sight of which, with its green grass and pleasant shady trees and many groups of villages, after four months of droughty views, roused the enthusiasm of each of our officers. A Père from the French Mission near Ferahani, established near the base of the mountains, brought us a few welcome articles with their compliments and good wishes.
At Vianzi, two marches later, supplies reached us from Major Wissman. They consisted of such assortments of provisions that only an explorer of experience would have known would be most appreciated, and in such prodigal abundance that our camp tables hence to the coast were loaded with luxuries.
On the 23rd we arrived at Simbamwenni, which is a town surrounded with a mud wall enclosing about 400 conical houses. During the next day’s halt Lieut. Schmidt escorted Emin Pasha to see the good Pères of the French Mission of San Esprit, who have commenced to work at Morogoro with the same earnest thoroughness that has made their establishment at Bagamoyo so famous. They have planted oranges, mangoes, plantains, vanilla, cinnamon and coffee, and almost all fruits known in tropical lands, and have led a clear and bounteous stream of water through their little estate.
Lieutenant Schmidt informed me that he was somewhat taken aback at the fact that the Fathers, in their intense devotion to their own religious duties, were unacquainted with the repute of his illustrious companion. A Père had asked him in a whisper, after eyeing the Pasha in wonder, “Can he speak anything but Arabic?” and was astounded when he heard, with that warmth so characteristic of young straightforward German officers, that he could not only speak Arabic, but could speak French, English, German, Turkish, Italian and Greek, with easy fluency, and that he was German by birth.