The inhospitality of the Warundi and their northern neighbours, who would plunder a canoe or insist upon a black-mail equivalent to plunder, allows neither traffic nor transit to the north of Wafanya. Here, therefore, the crews prepare to cross the Tanganyika, which is divided into two stages by the island of Ubwari.
In Ubwari I had indeed discovered “an island far away.” It is probably the place alluded to by the Portuguese historian, De Barros, in this important passage concerning the great lake in the centre of Africa: “It is a sea of such magnitude as to be capable of being navigated by many sail; and among the islands in it there is one capable of sending forth an army of 30,000 men.” Ubwari appears from a distance of two days bearing north-west; it is then somewhat hazy, owing to the extreme humidity of the atmosphere. From Wafanya it shows a clear profile about eighteen to twenty miles westward, and the breadth of the western channel between it and the mainland averages from six to seven miles. Its north point lies in south lat. 4° 7′, and the lay is N. 17° E. (corrected). From the northern point of Ubwari the eastern prolongation of the lake bears N. 3° W. and the western N. 10° W. It is the only island near the centre of the Tanganyika—a long, narrow lump of rock, twenty to twenty-five geographical miles long, by four or five of extreme breadth, with a high longitudinal spine, like a hog’s back, falling towards the water—here shelving, there steep, on the sea-side—where it ends in abrupt cliffs, here and there broken by broad or narrow gorges. Green from head to foot, in richness and profuseness of vegetation it equals, and perhaps excels, the shores of the Tanganyika, and in parts it appears carefully cultivated. Mariners dare not disembark on Ubwari, except at the principal places; and upon the wooded hill-sides wild men are, or are supposed to be, ever lurking in wait for human prey.
We halted two miserable days at Wafanya. The country is peculiarly rich, dotted with numerous hamlets, which supply provisions, and even milk, and divided into dense thickets, palm-groves, and large clearings of manioc, holcus, and sweet potatoes, which mantle like a garment the earth’s brown body. Here we found Kannena snugly ensconced in our sepoy’s pal, or ridge-tent. He had privily obtained it from Said bin Salim, with a view to add to his and his ward’s comfort and dignity. When asked to give it up—we were lodging, I under a lug-sail, brought from the coast and converted into an awning, and my companion in the wretched flimsy article purchased from the Fundi—he naively refused. Presently having seen a fat sheep, he came to me declaring that it was his perquisite: moreover, he insisted upon receiving the goat offered to us by the Sultan Kanoni. I at first demurred. His satisfactory rejoinder was: “Ngema, ndugu yango!—Well, my brother,—here we remain!” I consulted Bombay about the necessity of humouring him in every whim. “What these jungle-niggers want,” quoth my counsel, “that they will have, or they will see the next month’s new moon!”
The morning of the 18th April was dark and menacing. Huge purpling clouds deformed the face of the northern sky. Having loaded the canoes, however, we embarked to cross the channel which separated us from the Ubwari island. As the paddles were in hand, the crew, starting up from their benches, landed to bring on board some forgotten manioc. My companion remained in his boat, I in mine. Presently, hearing an unusual uproar, I turned round and saw the sailors arming themselves, whilst the “curtain-lion,” Khudabakhsh, was being hustled with blows, and pushed up the little cliff by a host of black spearmen; a naked savage the while capering about, waving the Baloch’s bare blade in one hand and its scabbard in the other. Kannena joined majestically in the “row,” but the peals of laughter from the mob showed no signs of anger. A Mjiji slave, belonging to Khudabakhsh had, it appears, taken flight, after landing unobserved with the crowd. The brave had redemanded him of Kannena, whom he charged, moreover, with aiding and abetting the desertion. The slave Sultan offered to refer the point to me, but the valiant man, losing patience, out with his sword, and was instantly disarmed, assaulted, and battered, as above described, by forty or fifty sailors. When quiet was restored, I called to him from the boat. He replied by refusing to “budge an inch,” and by summoning his “brother” Jelai to join him with bag and baggage. Kannena also used soft words, till at last, weary of waiting, he gave orders to put off, throwing two cloths to Khudabakhsh, that the fellow might not return home hungry. I admired his generosity till compelled to pay for it.
The two Baloch were like mules; they disliked the voyage, and as it was the Ramazan, they added to their discomforts by pretending to fast. Their desertion was inexcusable; they left us wholly in the power of the Wajiji, to dangers and difficulties which they themselves could not endure. Prudent Orientals, I may again observe, never commit themselves to the sole custody of Africans, even of the “Muwallid,” namely those born and bred in their houses. In Persia the traveller is careful to mix the black blood with that of the higher race; formerly, whenever the member of a family was found murdered, the serviles were all tortured as a preliminary to investigation, and many stories, like the following, are recounted. The slaves had left their master in complete security, and were sitting, in early night, merrily chatting round the camp fire. Presently one began to relate the list of their grievances; another proposed to end them by desertion; and a third seconded the motion, opining, however, that they might as well begin by murdering the patroon. No sooner said than done. These children of passion and instinct, in the shortest interim, act out the “dreadful thing,” and as readily repent when reflection returns. The Arab, therefore, in African lands, seldom travels with Africans only; he prefers collecting as many companions, and bringing as many hangers on as he can afford. The best escort to a European capable of communicating with and commanding them, would be a small party of Arabs fresh from Hazramaut and untaught in the ways and tongues of Africa. They would by forming a kind of balance of power, prevent that daring pilfering for which slaves are infamous; in the long run they would save money to the explorer, and perhaps save his life.
Khudabakhsh and his comrade-deserter returned safely by land to Kawele; and when derided by the other men, he repeated, as might be expected, notable griefs. Both had performed prodigies of valour; they had however been mastered by millions. Then they had called upon “Haji Abdullah” for assistance, to which he had replied “My power does not extend here!” Thus heartlessly refused aid by the only person who could and should have afforded it, they were reduced, sorely against their will, to take leave of him. Their tale was of course believed by their comrades, till the crews brought back the other version of the affair, the “camel-hearts” then once more became the laugh and jibe of man and woman.
After a short consultation amongst the men concerning the threatening aspect of the heavens, it was agreed by them to defer crossing the Lake till the next day. We therefore passed on to the northern side of the point which limits the bay of Wafanya, and anchoring the craft in a rushy bayou, we pitched tents in time to protect us against a violent thunderstorm with its wind and rain.
On the 19th April we stretched westward, towards Ubwari, which appeared a long strip of green directly opposite Urundi, and distant from eighteen to twenty miles. A little wind caused a heavy chopping swell; we were wet to the skin, and as noon drew nigh, the sun shone stingingly, reflected by a mirrory sea. At 10 A.M. the party drew in their paddles and halted to eat and smoke. About 2 P.M. the wind and waves again arose,—once more we were drenched, and the frail craft was constantly baled out to prevent water-logging. A long row of nine hours placed the canoes at a roadstead, with the usual narrow line of yellow sand, on the western coast of Ubwari Island. The men landed to dry themselves, and to cook some putrid fish which they had caught as it floated past the canoe, with the reed triangle that buoyed up the net. It was “strong meat” to us, but to them its staleness was as the “taste in his butter,” to the Londoner, the pleasing toughness of the old cock to the Arab, and the savoury “fumet” of the aged he-goat to the Baloch. After a short halt, we moved a little northwards to Mzimu, a strip of low land dividing the waters from their background of grassy rise, through which a swampy line winds from the hills above. Here we found canoes drawn up, and the islanders flocked from their hamlets to change their ivory and slaves, goats and provisions, for salt and beads, wire and cloth. The Wabwari are a peculiar, and by no means a comely race. The men are habited in the usual mbugu, tigered with black stripes, and tailed like leopard-skins: a wisp of fine grass acts as fillet, and their waists, wrists, and ankles, their knob-sticks, spears, and daggers, are bound with rattan-bark, instead of the usual wire. The women train their frizzly locks into two side-bits resembling bear’s ears; they tie down the bosom with a cord, apparently for the purpose of distorting nature in a way that is most repulsive to European eyes; and they clothe themselves with the barbarous goat-skin, or the scantiest kilts of bark-cloth. The wives of the chiefs wear a load of brass and bead ornaments; and, like the ladies of Wafanya, they walk about with patriarchal staves five feet long, and knobbed at the top.
We halted for a day at Mzimu in Ubwari, where Kannena demanded seventy khete of blue-porcelain beads as his fee for safe conduct to the island. Suddenly, at 6 P.M., he informed me that he must move to other quarters. We tumbled into the boats, and after enjoying two hours of pleasant progress with a northerly current, and a splendid moonshine, which set off a scene at once wild and soft as any
“That savage Rosa dashed, or learned Poussin drew,”