Sailing in and out among the clustering islands, they see two low isolated islands in the distance, and make toward them to camp there for the night. "There," says Stanley, "under the overspreading branches of a mangrove tree we dream of unquiet waters, and angry surfs, and threatening rocks, to find ourselves next morning tied to an island, which, from its peculiarity, I called Bridge Island. While seeking a road to ascend the island, to take bearings, I discovered a natural bridge of basalt, about twenty feet in length and twelve in breadth, under which one might repose comfortably, and from one side see the waves lashed to fury and spend their strength on the stubborn rocks, which form the foundation of the arch, while from the other we could see the boat, secure under the lee of the island, resting on a serene and placid surface, and shaded by mangrove branches from the hot sun of the equator. Its neighborhood is remarkable only for a small cave, the haunt of fishermen." After taking a survey of the neighboring mainland, he hoisted sail and scudded along the coast before a freshening breeze. At noon he found himself, by observation, to be under the equator. Seeing an opening in the lake that looked like the mouth of a river, he sailed into it to find it was only a deep bay. Coming in sight of a village, he anchored near it and tried to make friends with some wild-looking fishermen on the shore, but the naked savages only "stared at them from under penthouses of hair, and hastily stole away to tell their families of the strange apparition they had seen."
This sail of one hundred miles alone the coast of this vast lake, though somewhat monotonous and tame in its details to the reader, furnished one of the most interesting episodes in Stanley's life—not because the scenery was new and beautiful, but because he, with his white sail, and fire-arms, and strange dress, was as strange and wonderful to these natives as was Columbus, with his ship, and cannon, and cavaliers to the inhabitants of the New World. Though often differing in appearance, and language, and manner, they were almost uniformly friendly, and in the few cases where they proved hostile, they were drunk, which makes civilized men, as well as savages, quarrelsome. It was frequently very difficult to win their confidence, and often Stanley would spend hours in endeavoring to remove their suspicions. In this wild, remote home, their lives pass on without change, each generation treading in the footsteps of the preceding one—no progress, no looking forward to increased knowledge or new developments. There were no new discoveries to arouse their mental faculties, no aspirations for a better condition, and they were as changeless as their tropical climate. Hence, to them the sudden appearance of this strange phenomenon on their beautiful lake could not be accounted for. It had seemingly dropped from the clouds, and at the first discharge of a pistol they were startled and filled with amazement.
Stanley, whether rowing or sailing, kept close to the shore, that nothing worthy of note should escape him, frequently landing to ascertain the name of the district he was in, the bays he crossed, the mountains he saw, and the rivers that emptied into the lake. In short, he omitted nothing which was necessary to a complete survey and knowledge of this hitherto unknown body of water.
After leaving this bay, they came in a short time to a river which was full of hippopotami. Two huge fellows swam so near the boat that Stanley was afraid they would attack it, and ordered the men to pull away from them. Although hunting these huge beasts might be very exciting sport, and a tolerably safe one in boats properly built, to expose the Lady Alice, with her slender cedar sides, to their tusks would have been a piece of folly close akin to madness. Her safety was of more consequence than all the hippopotami in Africa. He was an explorer, not a hunter; and to risk all the future of the former to gratify the pleasure of the latter would have shown him unfit to command so important an expedition as this. Like the boat that carried Cæsar and his fortunes, the Lady Alice bore in her frail sides destines greater than the imagination can conceive. So hoisting sail they caught the freshening breeze and flew along the ever-changing shore lined with villages, out of which swarmed a vast crowd of people, showing a much more densely populated district than they had yet seen. He found the name of it to be Mahita; and wishing to learn the names of some of the villages he saw, the boat was turned toward shore and anchored within fifty yards of it, but with a cable long enough to let them drift to within a few feet of it. Some half a dozen men wearing small shells above their elbows and a circle round their heads came down to the beach, opening a conversation with them. Stanley learned the name of the country, but they refused to tell him anything more till he landed. While getting ready to do so, he noticed the numbers on the shore increased with astonishing rapidity, and seemed to be greatly excited. This aroused his suspicions, and he ordered the rowers to pull off again. It was lucky he did, for he had scarcely put three lengths between him and the shore, when suddenly out of the bushes on each side of the spot where he was to land arose a forest of spears.
Stanley did not intend to go away entirely, but lie off till they became less excited, but this evidence of treachery caused him to change his mind, and he ordered the sail to be hoisted, and moved away toward a point at the mouth of the cove, which, with the wind as it was blowing, they could but little more than clear. The negroes seeing this, sent up a loud shout, and hurried off to reach it before the boat did. Stanley penetrating their design, ordered the sail to be lowered and the rowers to pull dead to windward. The discomfited savages looked on in amazement to see the prize slip through their fingers so easily. It was a narrow escape, for had Stanley landed, he would doubtless have been overpowered and killed before he could use his weapons.
It was now late in the afternoon, and the savages made no attempt to follow them, and at dusk, coming to a small island, they tied up and camped for the night, lulled to sleep by the murmur of the waves on the beach.
The next day continuing their course, they at last sailed into the bay, which forms the northeastern extremity of the Victoria Nyanza. The eastern side of this bay is lined with bold hills and ridges, but at the extreme end where the Tagama River comes in, the country is flat. The expedition now began to move westward in its slow circumnavigation of the lake, and came at length to Muiwanda. Here they found the savages friendly, and they landed and obtained from them, at fair prices, such provisions and vegetables as they desired. They also gave Stanley all the information they could of the neighboring country. They told him that the name of the bay in which they rode, and which was the extreme northern limit of the lake, was Baringo. They had evidently not been great travelers or much visited by any tribes living away from their own coast, for they said that they had never heard of any other lake, great or small, except that one—the Nyanza. Considering that this whole central region of Africa is dotted with lakes, and that the Tanganika, an inland sea, is not three hundred miles distant, it is evident they must live very much isolated from any but their own people. Stanley had now surveyed the southern, eastern and northeastern shores of the lake, and had taken thirty-seven observations and entered almost every nook and cove of this vast body of water. He had corrected the map of Speke, made on the report of the natives—proved that he was wrong in his latitude of the lake, and taken such ample notes that he could make out an accurate chart of that portion he had thus traversed. He makes the extreme eastern point of the lake end in 34° 35' east longitude, and 33' 43" north latitude.
After he had finished his exploration thus far, Stanley went over his route, to gain a general knowledge of the country, the location and approximate size of the various districts, and general character of the inhabitants. The north shore he found indented with deep bays, and so completely land-locked, that they might easily be mistaken for separate lakes, while the islands clustered so thickly and closely to the shore that unless thoroughly examined, would be taken for portions of the mainland. But Stanley has traced it out so plainly, that the outline of the shore is as distinct as that of Lake Ontario.