camp with much parade, his son, to crown all, put in a claim for three cottons. Yet Magomba, before our departure, boasted of his generosity—and indeed he was generous, for everything we had was in his hands, and we were truly in his power. It was, indeed, my firm conviction from first to last in this expedition that in case of attack or surprise by natives I had not a soul except my companion to stand by me, and all those who accompanied us would have either betrayed us or fled. We literally, therefore, carried our lives in our hands.
We toiled on and on, suffering severely from the heat by day and sometimes the cold by night, and troubled much with mutinous porters and fears of desertion, until at last we reached the heart of the great desert, or elephant ground, known as Fiery Field. On October 20th we began the transit of this Fiery Field. The waste here appeared in its most horrid phase; a narrow goat-path serpentined in and out of a growth of poisonous thorny jungle, with thin, hard grass straw growing on a glaring white and rolling ground. The march was a severe trial, and we lost on it three boxes of ammunition. By-and-by we passed over the rolling ground, and plunged into a thorny jungle, which seemed interminable, but which gradually thinned out into a forest of thorns and gums, bush and underwood, which afforded a broad path and pleasanter travelling. Unfortunately, it did not last long, and we again had a very rough bit of ground to go over. Another forest to pass
through, and then we came out on October 27th into a clearing studded with large stockaded villages, fields of maize and millet, gourds and watermelons, and showing numerous flocks and herds. We had arrived at Unyamwezi, and our traverse of Ugogo was over.
The people swarmed from their abodes, young and old hustling one another for a better stare; the man forsook his loom and the girl her hoe, and we were welcomed and escorted into the village by a tail of screaming boys and shouting adults, the males almost nude, the women bare to the waist, and clothed only knee-deep in kilts. Leading the way, our guide, according to the immemorial custom of Unyamwezi, entered uninvited and sans cérémonie the nearest village; the long string of porters flocked in with bag and baggage, and we followed their example. We were placed under a wall-less roof, bounded on one side by the bars of the village palisade, and surrounded by a mob of starers, who relieved one another from morning to night, which made me feel like a wild beast in a menagerie.
We rested some days at Unyamwezi—the far-famed “Land of the Moon”—but I was urged to advance on the ground that the natives were a dangerous race, though they appeared to be a timid and ignoble people, dripping with castor and sesamum oil, and scantily attired in shreds of cotton or greasy goat-skins. The dangers of the road between Unyamwezi and Ujiji were declared to be great. I found afterwards
that they were grossly exaggerated, but I set forth with the impression that this last stage of my journey would be the worst of all. The country over which we travelled varied very much from day to day, being sometimes opened and streaked with a thin forest of mimosas, and at other times leading us through jungly patches. Going through a thick forest, one of the porters, having imprudently lagged behind, was clubbed and cruelly bruised by three black robbers, who relieved him of his load. These highwaymen were not unusual in this part, and their raids formed one of the many dangers we had to guard against.
On November 7th, 1857, the one hundred and thirty-fourth day from the date of leaving the coast, we entered Kazeh, the principal village of Unyamwezi, much frequented by Arab merchants. I always got on well with the Arabs, and they gave me a most favourable reception. Striking indeed was the contrast between the open-handed hospitality and hearty goodwill of this truly noble race and the niggardliness of the savage and selfish Africans. Whatever I alluded to—onions, plantains, limes, vegetables, tamarinds, coffee, and other things, only to be found amongst the Arabs—were sent at once, and the very name of payment would have been an insult.
Kazeh is situated in Unyamyembe, the principal province of Unyamwezi, and is a great meeting-place of merchants and point of departure for caravans, which then radiate into the interior of Central Intertropical Africa. Here the Arab merchant from
Zanzibar meets his compatriot returning from the Tanganyika and Uruwwa. Many of the Arabs settle here for years, and live comfortably, and even splendidly. Their houses, though single storied, are large, substantial, and capable of defence; their gardens are extensive and well planted. They receive regular supplies of merchandise, comforts, and luxuries from the coast; they are surrounded by troops of concubines and slaves; rich men have riding asses from Zanzibar, and even the poorest keep flocks and herds.
I was detained at Kazeh from November 8th until December 14th, and the delay was one long trial of patience.