“A grazier’s without and a butcher’s within;”
withal, so violent and unmanageable that no man could approach, much less secure it: it rushed about the village like a wild buffalo, scattering the people, who all fled except the Sultan, till it was stopped dead in a most determined charge, with a couple of rifle-bullets, by my companion. In return, Maula received a crimson cloth and two domestics, after which he begged for everything, including percussion caps, for which he had no gun. He appeared most anxious to detain the caravan, and in the evening his carefully concealed reasons leaked out—he wanted me to cure his son of fever, and to “put the colophon” upon a neighbouring hostile chief. At 8 P.M., I was aroused by my gun-carrier, Mabruki, who handed to me my Ferrara, and by the Baloch Riza, who reported that the palisade was surrounded by a host of raging blacks. I went out into the village, where the guard was running about in a state of excitement which robbed them of their wits, and I saw a long dark line of men sitting silently and peaceably, though armed for fight, outside the strong stockade. Having caused our cloth to be safely housed, and given orders to be awakened if work began, I returned to the hut, determined to take leave of Sultan Maura and his quarrels on the next day.
The porters were all gorged with beef, and three were “stale-drunk” with the consequences of pombe; yet so anxious were they rendered by the gathering clouds, and the spitting showers to reach their homes before the setting in of the “sowing rains,” that my task was now rather to restrain than to stimulate their ardour: the moon was resplendent, and had I wished it, they would have set out at midnight. On the 4th November we passed through another jungle-patch, to a village in the fertile slopes of Ukona, where the Cannabis and the Datura, with its large fetid flowers, disputed the ground with brinjalls and castor-plants, holcus and panicum: tobacco grew luxuriantly, and cotton-plots, carefully hedged round against the cattle, afforded material for the loom, which now appeared in every village.
On the next day, we passed out of the fertile slopes of Ukona, and traversed an open wavy country, streaked with a thin forest of Mimosa, the Mtogwe or wood-apple, and a large quadrangular cactus. Beyond this point, a tract of swampy low level led to the third district of Eastern Unyamwezi, called Kigwa, or Mkigwa. We found quarters in a Tembe which was half-burned and partly pulled down, to be re-erected.
The 6th November saw us betimes in the ill-omened Forest, that divided us from the Unyanyembe district; it is a thin growth of gum-trees, mimosas, and bauhinias, with tiers, earth-waves, and long rolling lines of tawny-yellow hill—mantled with umbrella-shaped trees, and sometimes capped with blocks and boulders—extending to a considerable distance on both sides. The Sultan of Kigwa, one Manwa, has taken an active part in the many robberies and murders which have rendered this forest a place of terror, and the Arabs have hitherto confined themselves to threats, though a single merchant complains that his slave-caravans have at different times lost fifty loads of cloth. Manwa is aided and counselled by Mansur, a Coast-Arab, who, horse-whipped out of the society of his countrymen at Kazeh, for drunken and disorderly conduct, has become a notorious traitor. Here also Msimbira, a Sultan of the Wasukuma, or Northern Wanyamwezi, who has an old and burning hatred against the Arabs, sends his plundering parties. On the 6th November the Baloch set out at 1 A.M., we followed at 2.15 A.M.: they had been prevented from obtaining beads on false pretences, consequently they showed temper, and determined to deny their escort. Their beards were now in my hand, they could neither desert nor refuse to proceed, but they desired to do me a harm, and they did it. During the transit of the forest, an old porter having imprudently lagged behind, was clubbed and cruelly bruised by three black Mohawks, who relieved him of his load, a leathern portmanteau, containing clothes, umbrellas, books, ink, journals, and botanical collections. I afterwards heard that the highwaymen had divided their spoils in the forest, and that separating into two parties, they had taken the route homewards. On the way, however, they were seized by a plundering expedition sent by Kitambi, the Sultan of Uyuwwi, a district half a day’s march N.E. from Kazeh. The delict was flagrant; the head of one robber at once decorated the main entrance of Kitambi’s village, but the other two escaped Jeddart-justice with their share of the plunder to his mortal enemy Msimbira. A present of a scarlet waistcoat and four domestics recovered our clothes from Kitambi; but Msimbira, threatening all the penalties of sorcery, abused, plundered, and expelled Masud ibn Musallam el Wardi, an old Arab merchant, sent to him from Unyanyembe for the purpose of recovering the books, journals, and collections. The perpetual risk of loss discourages the traveller in these lands; he never knows at what moment papers which have cost him months of toil may be scattered to the winds. As regards collections, future explorers are advised to abandon the hope of making them on the march upwards, reserving their labour for the more leisurely return. The precautions with which I prefaced our down-march may not be useless as suggestions. My field and sketch-books were entrusted to an Arab merchant, who preceded me to Zanzibar; they ran no other danger except from the carelesness of the Consul who, unfortunately for me, succeeded Lieut.-Col. Hamerton. My companion’s maps, papers, and instruments, were committed to a heavy “petarah,” a deal-box with pent-lid and hide-bound as a defence against rain, to be carried “Mziga-ziga,” as the phrase is—suspended on a pole between the two porters least likely to desert. I loaded one of the sons of Ramji with an enamelled leathern bag, converted from a dressing-case into a protection for writing and sketching materials; and a shooting-bag, hung during the march over the shoulders of Nasiri, a Coast-Arab youth engaged as ass-leader at Unyanyembe, contained my vocabularies, ephemeris, and drawing-books.
Considering the conduct of the escort, I congratulated myself upon having passed through the Kigwa forest without other accident. Two or three days after our arrival at Kazeh several loads of beads were plundered from a caravan belonging to Abdullah bin Salih. Shortly afterwards Msimbira sent a large foraging party with a view to cutting off the road: they allowed themselves to be surprised during sleep by Mpagamo’s men, who slew twenty-five of their number and dispersed the rest. This accident, however, did not cure their propensity for pillage; on our return-march, when halted at a village west of the Kigwa forest, a body of slaves passed us in hot haste and sore tribulation: they had that day been relieved by bandits of all their packs.
Passing from the Kigwa forest and entering the rice-lands of the Unyanyembe district we found quarters—a vile cow-house—in a large dirty village called Hanga. The aspect of the land became prepossessing: the route lay along a valley bisected by a little rivulet of sweet water, whose course was marked by a vivid leek-green line; the slopes were bright with golden stubble upon a surface of well-hoed field, while to the north and south ran low and broken cones of granite blocks and slabs, here naked, there clothed from base to brow with dwarf parasol-shaped trees, and cactaceæ of gigantic size.
From this foul village I was urged by Kidogo to conclude by a tirikeza the last stage that separated the caravan from Kazeh in Unyanyembe, the place which he and all around him had apparently fixed as the final bourne of the exploration. But the firmament seemed on fire, the porters were fagged, and we felt feverish, briefly, an afternoon’s march was not judged advisable. To temper, however, the wind of refusal, I served out to each of the sons of Ramji five rounds of powder for blowing away on entering the Arab head-quarters. All of course had that private store which the Arabs call “El Akibah”—the ending; it is generally stolen from the master and concealed for emergencies with cunning care. They had declared their horns to be empty, and said Kidogo, “Every pedlar fires guns here—shall a great man creep into his Tembe without a soul knowing it?”
On the 7th November, 1857,—the 134th day from the date of our leaving the coast—after marching at least 600 miles, we prepared to enter Kazeh, the principal Bandari of Eastern Unyamwezi, and the capital village of the Omani merchants. We left Hanga at dawn. The Baloch were clothed in that one fine suit without which the Eastern man rarely travels: after a few displays the dress will be repacked, and finally disposed of in barter for slaves. About 8 A.M., we halted for stragglers at a little village, and when the line of porters becoming compact began to wriggle, snake-like, its long length over the plain, with floating flags, booming horns, muskets ringing like saluting mortars, and an uproar of voice which nearly drowned the other noises, we made a truly splendid and majestic first appearance. The road was lined with people who attempted to vie with us in volume and variety of sound: all had donned their best attire, and with such luxury my eyes had been long unfamiliar. Advancing I saw several Arabs standing by the wayside, they gave the Moslem salutation and courteously accompanied me for some distance. Amongst them were the principal merchants, Snay bin Amir, Said bin Majid, a young and handsome Omani of noble tribe, Muhinna bin Sulayman, who, despite elephantiasis, marched every year into Central Africa, and Said bin Ali el Hinawi, whose short, spare, but well-knit frame, pale face, small features, snowy beard, and bald head, surmounted by a red fez, made him the type of an Arab old man.
I had directed Said bin Salim to march the caravan to the Tembe kindly placed at my disposal by Isá bin Hijji, and the Arabs met at Inenge. The Kirangozi and the porters, however, led us on by mistake (?) to the house of “Musa Mzuri”—handsome Moses—an Indian merchant settled at Unyanyembe for whom I bore an introductory letter, graciously given by H. H. the Sayyid Majid of Zanzibar. As Musa was then absent on a trading-journey to Karagwah, his agent, Snay bin Amir, a Harisi Arab, came forward to perform the guest-rites, and led me to the vacant house of Abayd bin Sulayman who had lately returned to Zanzibar.