Naked natives, free from civilization's binding customs, hoeing corn, weeding land, and watching sheep and goats, were seen working in the fields. These were the Wakavirondo, a tribe noted for its industriousness. They are chiefly engaged in farming and gardening, and their products are carried to Port Florence to be sold. Some of them have on a slight covering when they go to town, but it is discarded a short distance from where they left their produce.
Labor agents engage "boys" of the Wakavirondo tribe to work for a certain length of time away from their district. Of course, the men must wear some clothes. Returning in from three to six months, they have become accustomed to wearing covering and wish to continue doing so. Like the Maori women, though, the women of this African tribe insist on maintaining the custom of their ancestors, so the men have to discard the clothes they had become used to and resume their former clothesless existence. It is very warm where the Wakavirondo live—under the Equator.
Port Florence—or Kisumu, as that place is more often called—was now reached, and before us spread the blue, calm, green-island dotted water of Victoria Nyanza. We were at the western terminus of the Uganda Railway—the last railroad piercing Africa in that direction. A railway station, a dak bungalow—the only place at which to stop—and perhaps a dozen houses built on raised ground, with good wharves, a godown and a marketplace, almost completed the "attractions" of Port Florence. Fever is very bad in Kisumu, and smallpox and bubonic plague were holding a levee at the time we visited the place. Bubonic plague is so common here that no one pays much attention to it. Blacks are taken off with the plague in large numbers, but few Europeans die from that pestilence.
Trains run but twice a week from Mombasa to Port Florence, and the lake boats connect with the trains; so if I remained in Kisumu it would necessarily be for three days, and people die in less than that time after having been bitten by the bubonic flea. I did not relish the idea of possibly breathing my last just then, nor at that place. The blue water was alluring, the green islands bewitching, and in fancy we caught an echo of a call from Uganda's shore, inviting us to cross the great African lake and tarry a short while in the land of the Waganda. So, when the vessel moved from the wharf on her voyage across Victoria Nyanza, we were among the passengers.
The boats traversing that sheet of water are from 500 to 1,000 tons' displacement, lighted by electricity and of modern design. Every available sleeping place was occupied, and the vessel's water-line was concealed by the weight of her cargo.
A stranger would not know when he had reached the body of the lake, as the course is through blue-water avenues, bordered with tropical green islands, for a large part of the journey. The distance across is 175 miles, and 24 hours was taken in making the journey. The boats on Victoria Nyanza do not travel at night, which accounts for the slow time. The Equator was crossed and recrossed during the 24-hours' journey, but the game of "Neptune" was not played. The lake is nearly 4,000 feet above sea-level, 240 miles in length, and its area 26,000 square miles.
Although very fertile, none of the islands was inhabited. For centuries most of these had been under cultivation, but the sleeping-sickness plague made such havoc among the natives that the British government some years ago forced them to the mainland.
Entebbe, on the western shore of Victoria Nyanza, is the Imperial capital of Uganda, but Kampala, 23 miles north, is the native capital. The British government officials are located at the former place, while the native legislature convenes in the latter. Most of the land of Uganda is owned by natives, but no concessions are granted without the approval of British officials. If one wishes to buy land, he must apply for it through the native legislature. Uganda is a rich country, but little land is under cultivation. Indians and Arabs would quickly buy large tracts, but they are not wanted there, as no one profits from Asiatic holdings but Asiatics; besides they would ill-treat the natives. Uganda was made a British Protectorate in 1894. It has an area of 300,000 square miles, that of British-East Africa 200,000 square miles. Europeans in the Uganda Protectorate number only about 2,000.
Built on a high point of land, with two blue-water bays on each side and a wide sweep of Victoria Nyanza spreading out to the horizon; evergreen landscape beyond the mainland borders of the bays; trees smothered with vari-colored flowers, and the streets carpeted with a floral covering which falls from them; bright and pretty-colored birds enhancing the picture, with their sweet carols "at early morn and dewy eve;" bulky banana bushes and papaw, or mummy-apple, trees growing at every turn; the gardens to the homes of the dwellers glowing with flowers—there, away off in Uganda, on the peninsula overlooking the great lake, at Entebbe, we found one of the grandest settings of both land and water scenery the eye could feast on.
This was the first place we observed natives seeking work. When coming from the wharf to the town, tidy, well-developed Waganda would timidly approach, holding in their hands a small book or piece of paper. In the book or on the paper was written their records, good or otherwise, the wages they had received, and the length of time worked at various places. The applicant may be a houseboy, cook or land worker. It is customary, in fact a standard rule, when servants leave employment, to give them a note, which is their reference. None of them know a letter of the alphabet, so have no idea of the nature of the writing.