CHAPTER XII. EXPLORATION OF THE VICTORIA NYANZA.
Stanley felt, as he stood and looked off on the broad expanse of water, like one who had achieved a great victory, and he said that the wealth of the universe could not then bribe him to turn back from his work. The boat of a white man had never been launched on its surface, and he longed to see the Lady Alice afloat, that he might change the guesses of Livingstone, Speke and others, into certainty. He had started to complete Livingstone's unfinished work, and now he was in a fair way to do it. How much Cameron, who was somewhere in the interior on the same mission, had accomplished, he did not know, he only knew that with no boat at his command, like the Lady Alice, that he had transported through so many hundreds of miles of jungle, his movements would be very much crippled.
He now mustered his entire force, to see what he had to rely on before setting out, and found it to consist of three white men and one hundred and six Wanguana soldiers, twenty-eight having died since leaving Itwru thirty days before, or at an average of nearly one a day. This was a gloomy prospect. Before beginning his real work one-half of his entire expedition had disappeared. Dysentery had been the great scourge that had thinned their ranks so fearfully. Stanley in the first place was not a physician, while even those remedies which ordinarily might have proved efficacious were rendered well-nigh useless by the necessity of constant marching. Rest alone would have cured a great many, but he felt compelled to march. Whether the necessity for marching with the rapidity he did, was sufficiently urgent to justify him in sacrificing so many lives, he doubtless is the best judge. These poor men were not accustomed to travel at the rate he kept them moving. Had they marched as leisurely as an Arab caravan, they would have been nine months or a year in making the distance which Stanley had accomplished in the short space of one hundred and three days.
He was at last on the lake that Baker hoped to reach with his steam vessels, and here he expected to meet Gordon, his successor, but he evidently had not yet arrived, for the natives told him that no boats had been seen on the water. They related strange tales, however, of the people inhabiting the shores. One told him of a race of dwarfs, another of a tribe of giants, another still of a people who kept a breed of dogs so large that even Stanley's mastiffs were small in comparison. How much or little of this was true, he, of course, could not tell, still it excited his curiosity, and increased his desire to explore the country.
He reached the lake on the 28th of February, and in eight days had everything ready, and launched his boat. He selected ten good oarsmen, who, with the steersman and himself, composed the boat's crew, and the whole force with which he was to overcome all the difficulties that he might encounter.
The camp was left in charge of Frank Pocoke and young Barker. Naming the large body of water, into which the Shimeeyu and Ruano Rivers flowed, Speke Bay, in honor of the distinguished explorer, he sailed east along the irregular coast. To-day passing a district thinly populated, to-morrow a rugged hill country, through which the elephants wandered in immense droves, and of course, thronged with elephant hunters, he passed various tribes, until he came to the mouth of the Ruano River, discharging a large volume of water into Speke Bay, but nothing in comparison with the Shimeeyu and the Kagera, the two great river supplies of the lake. The former is the largest of all, and at its mouth a mile wide. Its length is three hundred and seventy miles and is, he says, the extreme southern source of the Nile.
The water he named Speke Bay is on the northeastern side, and where he crossed it about twelve miles wide. Sterile plains succeeded barren mountains, thin lines of vegetation along the borders of the lake alone giving space for cultivation, came and went until they reached the great island of Ukerewe, divided from the mainland only by a narrow channel. This was a true oasis, for it was covered with herds of cattle, and verdue, and fruits, and rich in ivory. He found the king an amiable man, and his subjects a peaceful, commercial people. Although this was a large island, more than forty miles long, the king owned several of the neighboring islands. Nothing of importance occurred on this voyage, as day after day they wound in and out along the deeply corrugated coast or sailed by islands, the people on shore all being friendly. They at length came in sight of the high table-land of Majita, which Speke thought to be an island, but which Stanley demonstrated, by actual survey, to be only a promontory. It rises some three thousand feet above the level of the lake, and is surrounded by low brown plains, which, to the distant observer, resemble water.
Stanley continued his course along the eastern shore of the lake, proceeding northerly, and at last reached the coast of the Uriri country, a district of pastoral land dotted over with fine cattle. Bordering on this is Ugegeya, a land of fables and wonders, the "El Dorado" of slave hunters and traders in ivory. It is the natural home of the elephant, which is found here in great numbers. In crossing a broad bay he first got sight of it, rising in a series of tall mountains before him. From their base the country rolls away to the east in one vast plain twenty-five miles wide, over which roam great herds of cattle, getting their own living and furnishing plenty of meat to the indolent inhabitants. Stanley constantly inquired of the natives concerning the country inland, its character and people, and was told many wonderful stories, in which it was impossible to say how much fable was mixed. Among other things, they reported that about fifteen days' march from this place, were mountains that spouted forth fire at times and smoke.
Keeping north, he says: "We pass between the Island Ugingo and the gigantic mountains of Ugegeya, at whose base the Lady Alice seems to crawl like a mite in a huge cheese, while we on board admire the stupendous height, and wonder at the deathly silence which prevails in this solitude, where the boisterous winds are hushed and the turbulent waves are as tranquil as a summer dream. The natives, as they pass, regard this spot with superstition, as well they might, for the silent majesty of these dumb, tall mounts awes the very storms to peace. Let the tempests bluster as they may on the spacious main beyond the cape, in this nook, sheltered by tall Ugingo isle and lofty Goshi in the mainland, they inspire no fear. It is this refuge which Goshi promises the distressed canoemen that causes them to sing praises of Goshi, and to cheer one another when wearied and benighted, that Goshi is near to protect them."