ENTERING THE RED SEA
CHAPTER XIX
FROM LINDI TO TANGA
On Board the ss. König, in the Mediterranean, off the Mouths of the Nile, January 20, 1907.
A few hours ago, in losing sight of the palms of Port Said, we left the last of Africa behind us. The flat, sandy shore of the Egyptian Delta has now vanished from our view, and a grey waste of waters lies before the vessel as she fights her way with increasing difficulty against the rising north-west gale. The Mediterranean in winter is not inviting. No trace in reality of the ever-cloudless sky we have been taught to look for; and Captain Scharf, who certainly ought to know, says that he has never experienced any other weather here at this time of year. This season is always cold and stormy, forming no pleasant transition between the delightful temperature of the Red Sea in winter and the sub-Arctic climate of the Atlantic and the North Sea. We shall have to steam along the coast of Crete and to pass close enough to the southern extremity of Greece, to catch sight of the snow-covered peaks of the Spartan mountains; so much does the head-wind retard the course of our broad-bowed, somewhat old-fashioned boat, which, for a first-class steamer, makes wonderfully little way. The traveller has all the more leisure to retire, in the comfortable smoking-saloon, into the solitude of his own thoughts, and take stock of all that he has seen, heard and learnt in the last nine months.
The evening of the 2nd of December passed very pleasantly on board the Kanzler in Lindi roadstead. One could scarcely make out where so many white-clad Europeans came from, all at once. One of the passengers attributed this influx to the iced Pilsener which Ewerbeck and I lavished in unlimited quantities in the high spirits of departure; but this suggestion is scarcely to be taken seriously. The presence of a German steamer in the harbour is in these latitudes always a festival, celebrated by most people whenever it comes round. And quite rightly so, for nothing is more deadening than the monotony of workaday life in Africa.
The trip which had taken the Rufiji three days of hard work was performed by the swift Kanzler in one day. Early on the morning of the fourth, Ewerbeck and I landed at Dar es Salam: Ewerbeck, in order to take his final leave of the Protectorate, and I, to give account to the Government of the financial and administrative side of my expedition. For a new-comer like myself a change of place made no difference; but the Imperial District Commissioner was visibly moved by sad and serious thoughts. He had spent the best part of his life, over fifteen years, in the development of this very part of German East Africa; and, in such a case, a man does not leave the scene of his labours with a light heart.
Dar es Salam was still more delightful than in June. At this time of year it abounds in mangoes of every size and every variety. The mango-tree was long ago imported from India, and is now found wherever Indians are settled in East Africa, whether in British, German, or Portuguese territory. It is certainly a pleasanter immigrant than the low-caste Indian; it somewhat resembles our linden tree in its mode of growth, and gives a pleasant look of home to a settlement. The fruit, sometimes as large as a child’s head, is served on ice at every meal, and is almost equal in flavour to the pine-apple.
Into this pleasant, easy life the news of the events of December 13th came like a bolt from the blue. An excellent hotel, the “Kaiserhof,” had been opened just before my return to Dar es Salam, and I had the great pleasure of being one of its first guests. We were almost suffocated with comfort: electric light, a broad, shady verandah outside every room, a comfortable bath-room attached to each apartment, and a more than luxurious table were, together, almost too much of a good thing, after our lean months in the bush. Fortunately, however, man becomes accustomed to every thing, even to good living.
