CHAPTER I.
FROM ZANZIBAR TO MOMBASAH.
Urbis ab angusto tractu quâ vergit in Austrum,
Planities vicina patet: nam cætera Pontus
Circuit, exiguo dirimi se tramite passus.
C. Claud, in Ruf. lib. 2. 348.
On Monday, January 5, 1857, began our trial trip, which homely term was justly written large as ‘tentative expedition,’ by the then President of the Royal Geographical Society. But a stiff north-easter blowing dead in our teeth, the crew of the Riámi would not wear round by day, and at night all showed a predilection for the ‘Safar khoriyah,’ i. e. anchoring in some snug bay. Consequently the old tub, with knees and mast loose like a slaver’s, did not make Kokoto-ni, the usual departure point from Zanzibar Island, till 7 A. M. on January 8.
Kokoto-ni ‘(at or in) the pebbles,’ is an anchorage 18.30 direct geographical miles from, and north with 3 miles east of, Zanzibar City. Formed by a bight with a streamlet, and the Island of Tumbatu, with its little outliers, Manawamána and Popo (in Owen Moina and Benoth), this roadstead is rendered dangerous during the Azyab, or N. East monsoon, by a heavy rolling sea and a coral-bound lee-shore. The coast has the usual edging of sand, clear as crystal, and of bright green mangrove, whilst an inner belt of darker jungle defends a country, here, as everywhere around, prodigiously fertile, green, and monotonous. The interior is a mass of cultivation, manioc and sweet potato (Jezar) from Madagascar, superb mangoes and cocoas waving in the clear sea-breeze, and limes and oranges, the latter disposed, as by the Paraguayans, in long rows, which, at a distance, imitate the tea-field. Clove plantations adorn the uplands, and the giant Calabash (Adansonia digitata) stretches its stumpy, crooked arms over the clustering huts. The tree is at once majestic and grotesque; the tall conical column of spongy and porous wood, covered with a soft, glossy rind, which supplies half Africa with bast, will have a girth of forty to fifty feet, far exceeding the cedars of Lebanon, whilst the general aspect is that of a giant asparagus. Like the arbutus, some trees will be bare, others in leaf, and others in flower, all at the same season. When thickly clothed with foliage growing almost stalkless from the wood; topped with snowy blossoms, like the fairest and lightest of water-lilies, and hung about with four or five hundred gourds; ovals somewhat larger than a cocoa-nut, dressed in green velvet with the nap on, and attached by a long thin cord, like tassels which wave with every breath of the zephyr, its appearance is striking as it is novel. Nothing, in fact, after the negro can be more typically and distinctly African.
Escorted by Said bin Salim and his slave, we visited the village Mwándá. It is the normal collection of cajan-thatched huts, with wattle and dab walls, gathering round a little Mosque and grave-yard. There are no stone dwellings, but scatters of such hovels extend far and wide. The settlement was mostly tenanted by women who hid themselves, by children who ran away, and by slave-girls who squatted, combing and plaiting one another’s locks; these grinned merrily enough, having nought to fear. The faces were hideous to look upon, with black, coarse skins, scarred and seamed by small-pox; huge mouths, and rolling eyes. Not a few were lame and toothless, and the general dress was the ungraceful swaddle of blue, checked or indigo-dyed stuff. Presently we were addressed by an old man, carrying a spear, and attired in Arab fashion, of red cap, loin-cloth (Futah), and Tobe (Taub), or shoulder-scarf. Taking us for traders, who came to buy cocoa and cloves, he placed a Kitandah (cot) under the central calabash, the gossip-place of the village, and brought us cocoanut-water, which here takes the place of coffee. In vain we offered high prices for meat; geese, ducks, and fowls, however, were abundant.
After a short rest we set out northwards, to inspect the plantations. Most of the men were at work in their Mashamba; the weeds had been burned for manure, the primitive manner of restoring nutrition to the soil, and the peasant, with his rude implements, was smoothing the lowlands for paddy. Already the light showers of the Azyab had flooded the ground, and the stagnant stream which we forded was choked with rush and sedge. A ‘Tell,’ or dwarf rise, was occupied by a farm belonging to the late Sayyid; here we were again seated and supplied with mangoes. This fruit, curious to say, would never fall upon the Prince’s head, although his courtiers often suffered severe contusions—at least, so we were assured.
After a long walk, which crippled my naked arms and legs with sunburns, we returned to the shore, and Said complaining, with a visage like Falstaff’s ‘wet cloak ill-laid up,’ that never before had he endured such fatigue, we signalled the Riámi for a boat. It was five hours coming, the wind blew off shore, and we had some trouble in persuading certain Tumbatu men to carry off the party of six in a monoxyle, a single log of wood, propelled by a scarf. A few dates and a dollar sent them back happy, and the Riámi had used her time well in washing decks and taking in water.