A fourth mile of gradual rise brought us to a distinctly-defined sea-beach, swelling about 100 feet above water, and dimly showing Zanzibar Island to the S. East. The material was sand with a slight admixture of vegetable humus: the ridge top was crowned with luxuriant thicket, and a fine of water-washed quartz pebbles defined the flank. I afterwards found the same at Muhonyera in valley of the Kinga-ni river, where the pebbles strewed the northern slope of the hillock upon which we were encamped. Captain Speke (Journal, &c., chap. ii.) inspected it on his second journey at the desire of the Royal Geographical Society, to see if it gave indications of a ‘raised sea-beach,’ and came to the conclusion that ‘no mind but one prone to discovering sea-beaches in the most unlikely places could have supposed for a moment that one existed here.’ But did he know what a raised sea-beach was, even had he seen it? He adds, ‘there are no pebbles;’ my only reply is that I picked up specimens, and I find in my Field Book, now deposited with the Royal Geographical Society, ‘Muhonyera’ ... ‘elevated, sea-beach, lines of pink, quartzose rounded pebbles.’

On this beach, as on the flat below, were frequent traces of manual labour: the tree, however, is not common,—only two appeared, within half a mile. Mánji proceeded to show me the digging process, which was of the simplest: he crowed a hole with a sharpened stick in the loose sand, and disclosed several bits of the bitumenized and semi-mineral gum. One of the slaves sank a pit about three feet deep: the earth became redder as he descended, crimson fibrous matter appeared, and presently the ground seemed to be half sand, half comminuted copal. There was neither blue clay nor tree-roots as in Zanzibar Island, nor did I find this formation in any of the wells or excavations examined upon the coast. According to the guide, the only subsoil is this ruddy arenaceous matter: his people, however, never dig lower than a man’s waist. They use the Jembe, or little iron hoe, and when ‘grist for the mill’ is wanted they form small gangs, who proceed to the ‘jungle’ for two or three days, carrying with them the necessaries of life.

The whole of this Zangian coast produces the copal of commerce: specimens have been brought to Zanzibar from the northern limits of Makdishu and Brava to Kilwa and Cape Delgado—by rough computation 800 miles. It extends, here three hours’ march, there two to three days, into the interior. On the mainland it costs half-price of what is paid upon the Island, and the indolent Wasawahili of the villages cannot be induced to dig whilst a handful of grain remains in the bin. I found it impossible to ‘trace the position and circumstances of the extinct forests, of which copal constitutes the principal remains:’ such an investigation would have entailed at least two months’ voyaging along, and dwelling upon, the fever-haunted seaboard.

I was also obliged to leave to the late secretary of the Bombay Geographical Society the task of remedying the host of evils that at present beset copal-digging. The first is the Commercial treaty of 1839, by whose tenth article H. H. the Sayyid engages ‘not to permit the establishment of any monopoly or exclusive privilege of sale within his dominions, except in the articles of ivory and gum copal on that part of the East Coast of Africa, from the port of Tangate, situated in about 5½ degrees of S. latitude, to the port of Quiloa, lying in about 7 degrees south of the equator.’ The U. S. Commercial treaty of 1833 contains no such clause, but the French treaty, concluded in 1844, thus modifies (Art. xi.) the prohibition to traffic which appears in the English treaty. ‘But if the English or Americans or any other Christian nation should carry goods, the French shall in like manner be at liberty to do so.’ With the Arabs such matters are easily managed for the benefit of both parties: when, however, European jealousies complicate the affair there is little hope of their being brought to a successful issue.

Moreover, Europeans cannot do manual labour upon the Zanzibarian seaboard. Hindustanis would fear to face, not only the fever, but the savage. A gang of 500 negroes from Kilwa or Arabs from Hazramaut taught to use moderate-sized mattocks, not the child’s plaything now in fashion, well paid and kept at regular work, would soon, by their own exertions and by example, stimulate the copal digging into liveliness or break up the unnatural monopoly. But the Sayyid’s government would object to such occupation of its territory; the Wasawahili Diwans would require propitiation; and in view of desertion, it would be necessary to make specific contracts with the chiefs of tribes, villages, and harbours. It is to be feared that such an operation would not pay, commercially speaking, though every hand might produce, as it has been calculated he can, 12 to 15 lbs. per diem. Willingly, therefore, as I would have won that highest of meeds, the gratitude of my fellow-countrymen by reducing the price of coach-varnish, I had fairly to confess that it was beyond my powers. The sole remedy is Time—perhaps an occasional East African expedition might be adhibited to advantage.

As regards the limestone band, of which I had forwarded specimens from the Somali country, no traces were found till after leaving the modern corallines and sandstones of the coast which possibly overlie it. Our march to the Usagara mountains (5000 feet high) was more fortunate: a fossil bulimus was picked up in the Western counterslope of those Eastern Ghauts, about 3200 feet above sea-level, and calcareous nodules of weather-worn ‘Kunker’ were remarked in more than one place. Captain Speke (Journal, chap. ii.) afterwards saw at Kidunda of Uzaramo on the left of the Kingani valley ‘pisolithic limestone in which marine fossils were observable.’

Nothing of interest now remained for me at Sa’adani. Before earliest dawn, when Venus hung like a lamp between dark sky and darker earth, and before the lovely flush of morning had lit up the Eastern sea, we embarked, and enjoyed a lively sail. Whilst the mainland was clear, the Island of Zanzibar had hid itself in a mass of dark dense cloud, and presently it sent to meet us heavy leaden-coloured rain apparently solid as a stone wall. We had sundry gusts and dead calms, till at last a light breeze wafted us once more into port.

CHAPTER X.
THE EAST AFRICAN EXPEDITION OF 1857-1859.

‘All truth must be ultimately salutary, and all deception pernicious.’—Francis Jeffrey.

At length came the moment for departure—June 17, 1858. We had learned what we wanted to learn on the seaboard, whilst at Zanzibar Island no further information was to be procured. The rains had ended on June 5: the harvest was coming on, and trading parties were returning to the coast—every day three or four boats passed outward-bound under the windows of the Consulate.[[49]] Our preparations were hurriedly made. Cogent reasons, however, compelled me to move quamprimum, and evidently delay, even for a week, might have been fatal to my project. Lieut.-Col. Hamerton’s health rapidly declined: he was compelled to lead the life of a recluse, and his ever-increasing weakness favoured the cause of our ill-wishers. Local politics became more confused, and the succession troubles more imminent, whilst the Sayyid’s Government, deceived by our silence during the rains into a belief that the Panga-ni fever had cooled our ardour, lost all interest in the enterprise, and required to be aroused from its apathy by a stiff reminder.