PILE-DWELLING ON THE ROVUMA, NEAR NCHICHIRA
Such was my first sight of the pile-dwellings of this region. It was followed by more extensive studies, but the main features of these constructions are everywhere the same. My first notion as to the reason for this mode of building was that it had been adopted to escape the mosquitoes in the neighbourhood of the river, and also for safety in time of flood. Some of these huts, in fact, are within reach of the inundations during the wet season; but the majority are placed on the top of ridges well beyond high-water mark. If we ask the natives why they build their huts in this particular way, the answer is always the same—“Pembe” (“Elephants”). I was at first unwilling to believe this, the elephant being an extremely shy animal, who, under all circumstances, avoids the vicinity of man; but I was informed that the local representatives of the species are of a somewhat different disposition from their congeners elsewhere. Only a few days before, one of these monsters had, quite unprovoked, seized a Mngoni going peaceably about his business, and tossed him into the air. In the light of these facts, the strong palisade surrounding many of these high structures cannot be considered an unnecessary precaution. In any case the discovery of this pile-dwelling district within easy reach of the coast was almost as pleasant a surprise as my success in establishing the tribal divisions at Newala.
The heat here certainly makes us wish ourselves back in the comparatively low temperature of that place. It is impossible to remain even a minute in the tent during the daytime, the thermometer there standing at over 104°, while even under our banda (a hastily erected grass shelter), we are sitting perspiring at 98° and 99°. The evening gale which was the terror of our lives at Newala is here entirely absent, but, on the other hand, we are tormented by a legion of mosquitoes, from which we can only escape by retiring under our nettings soon after sunset.
“Have you anything more on your mind?” I have just asked the indefatigable Knudsen, who seems quite worn out. “I mean,” I add, seeing that he does not at once understand, “have you any more ethnographical curiosities in reserve?”
“Not that I know of,” is his answer.
“Well, then, let us march again to-day, as far as the boma of Nchichira, and to-morrow morning at 4.45 we will leave for Mahuta.”
“Let us do so at once, by all means!” replies Knudsen, and goes into his tent to change his soaking khaki suit.
CHAPTER XVII
ACHIEVEMENT
Mahuta, November 8, 1906.