RUBAGA. [Larger.]

At length crowning the summit of a smooth hill appeared King Mtesa’s capital, Rubaga. A number of tall huts clustered around one taller than the rest from which waved the imperial standard of the Uganda. A high cane fence surrounds the court with gates opening on four broad avenues that stretch to the bottom of the hill. These are lined with fences and connected with paths shaded with groves of banana, fig and other fruit trees, and amid these groves are the houses of the commonalty. After due delay—court etiquette is even more tedious and ceremonious in Africa than Europe—Stanley is ushered into the presence of the king, seated in his great audience hall, and surrounded by a host of chiefs, warriors, pages, standard-bearers, executioners, drummers, fifers, clowns, dwarfs, wizards, medicine men, slaves and other retainers.

And here we have a fine opportunity to compare the notes of two observers of the king’s receptions. Stanley had a second interview at the “royal palace,” on which occasion the king received also M. Linant De Bellefonds, sent by Gordon Pasha on a mission to Uganda. The monarch prepared a surprise for him by having Stanley by his side. But let De Bellefonds speak.

“On entering the court I am greeted with a frightful uproar. A thousand instruments produce the most discordant and deafening sounds. Mtesa’s bodyguard, carrying guns, present arms on my appearance. The king is standing at the entrance to the reception hall. I approach and bow like a Turk. We shake hands. I perceive a sun-burned European by the king’s side, whom I take to be Cameron. We all enter the reception room—a room 15 feet wide by 60 feet long, its roof supported by

two rows of light pillars, making an aisle, which is filled with chief officers and guards, the latter armed. Mtesa takes his seat on the throne, which is like a wooden office chair. His feet rest on a cushion. The whole is in the centre of a leopard skin spread upon a Smyrna rug. Before him is a highly polished elephant’s tusk, at his feet two boxes containing fetishes, on either side a lance of copper and steel. At his feet are two scribes. The king behaves dignifiedly and does not lack an air of distinction. His dress is faultless—a white couftan finished with a red band, stockings, slippers, vest of black and gold, a turban with a silver plate on top, a sword with an ivory hilt and a staff. I show my presents, but royal dignity forbids him to show any curiosity. I say to the traveller on his left ‘Have I the honor to address Mr. Cameron?’ He says, ‘No sir; Mr. Stanley.’ I introduce myself. We bow low, and our conversation ends for the moment.”

Who is this singular Mtesa and how has his more singular fabric of empire been built up in the heart of savage Africa?

All around is the night of Pagan darkness, ignorance, and cruelty. Here, in the land of the Waganda, if there is, as yet, no light to speak of, there is a ruddy tinge in the midst of the blackness that seems to give promise of approaching dawn. If the people are still blood-thirsty, revengeful, and fond of war and pillage, they have learned some lessons in observing law and order; they practice some useful arts; they observe many of the decencies of life, and in the cleanliness of their houses and persons they are examples to some European countries. The Waganda themselves have a high opinion of their own importance; and their legends carry back their origin to what, for an African tribe, is a remote past. The story, as related by them to Captain Speke, is as follows:—

“Eight generations ago a sportsman from Unyoro, by name Uganda, came with a pack of dogs, a woman, a spear, and a shield, hunting on the left bank of the Katonga Valley, not far from the lake. He was but a poor man, though so successful in hunting that vast numbers flocked to him for flesh, and became so fond of him as to invite him to be their king. At

first Uganda hesitated. Then the people, hearing his name, said, ‘well at any rate let the country between the Nile and the Katonga be called Uganda and let your name be Kimera the first king of Uganda.’ The report of these proceedings reached the ears of the king of Unyoro, who merely said, ‘The poor creature must be starving, allow him to feed where he likes.’