"For another month and more the steadily diminishing band of explorers toiled among the rapids and cataracts of the Congo, and on the 30th of July drew their boats into a little cove about fifty yards above the Isangila cataract, the 'Second Sangalla' of Captain Tuckey. Here Mr. Stanley learned that Embomma, or Boma, was only five days away by land, and that there were three other cataracts, besides several rapids, before permanently smooth water could be reached. And here," said Fred, "I will turn to the book and read Mr. Stanley's account of how the explorers reached the sea."
CAMP AT KILOLO, ABOVE ISANGILA FALLS.
"There was not the slightest doubt in my mind that the Isangila cataract was the second Sangalla of Captain Tuckey and Professor Smith, and that the Sanga Yellala of Tuckey and the Sanga Jelalla of Smith was the Nsongo Yellala, though I could not induce the natives to pronounce the words as the members of the unfortunate Congo Expedition of 1816 spelled them.
"As the object of the journey had now been attained, and the great river of Livingstone had been connected with the Congo of Tuckey, I saw no reason to follow it farther, or to expend the little remaining vitality we possessed in toiling through the last four cataracts.
"I announced, therefore, to the gallant but wearied Wangwana that we should abandon the river and strike overland for Embomma. The delight of the people manifested itself in loud and fervid exclamations of gratitude to Allah! Quadruple ration-money was also distributed to each man, woman, and child; but, owing to the excessive poverty of the country, and the keen trading instincts and avaricious spirit of the aborigines, little benefit did the long-enduring, famine-stricken Wangwana derive from my liberality.
"Fancy knick-knacks, iron spears, knives, axes, copper, brass wire, were then distributed to them, and I emptied the medicine out of thirty vials, and my private clothes-bags, blankets, waterproofs, every available article of property that might be dispensed with, were also given away, without distinction of rank or merit, to invest in whatever eatables they could procure. The 31st of July was consequently a busy day, devoted to bartering, but few Wangwana were able to boast at evening that they had obtained a tithe of the value of the articles they had sold, and the character of the food actually purchased was altogether unfit for people in such poor condition of body.
"At sunset we lifted the brave boat, after her adventurous journey across Africa, and carried her to the summit of some rocks about five hundred yards north of the fall, to be abandoned to her fate. Three years before, Messenger of Teddington had commenced her construction; two years previous to this date she was coasting the bluffs of Uzongora on Lake Victoria; twelve months later she was completing her last twenty miles of the circumnavigation of Lake Tanganika, and on the 31st of July, 1877, after a journey of nearly seven thousand miles up and down broad Africa, she was consigned to her resting-place above the Isangili cataract, to bleach and to rot to dust!
"A wayworn, feeble, and suffering column were we when, on the 1st of August, we filed across the rocky terrace of Isangila and sloping plain, and strode up the ascent to the table-land. Nearly forty men filled the sick-list with dysentery, ulcers, and scurvy, and the victims of the latter disease were steadily increasing. Yet withal I smiled proudly when I saw the brave hearts cheerily respond to my encouraging cries. A few, however, would not believe that within five or six days they should see Europeans. They disdained to be considered so credulous, but at the same time they granted that the 'master' was quite right to encourage his people with promises of speedy relief.
"So we surmounted the table-land, but we could not bribe the wretched natives to guide us to the next village. 'Mirambo,' the riding-ass, managed to reach half-way up the table-land, but he also was too far exhausted through the miserable attenuation which the poor grass of the western region had wrought in his frame to struggle farther. We could only pat him on the neck and say, 'Good-bye, old boy; farewell, old hero! A bad world this for you and for us. We must part at last.' The poor animal appeared to know that we were leaving him, for he neighed after us—a sickly, quavering neigh, that betrayed his excessive weakness. When we last turned to look at him he was lying on the path, but looking up the hill with pointed ears, as though he were wondering why he was left alone, and whither his human friends and companions by flood and field were wandering.
"After charging the chief of Mbinda to feed him with cassava leaves and good grass from his fields, I led the caravan over the serried levels of the lofty upland.
"At the end of this district, about a mile from Mwato Wandu, we appeared before a village whose inhabitants permitted us to pass on for a little distance, when they suddenly called out to us with expostulatory tones at an almost shrieking pitch. The old chief, followed by about fifty men, about forty of whom carried guns, hurried up to me and sat down in the road.
"In a composed and consequential tone he asked, 'Know you I am the king of this country?'
"I answered, mildly, 'I knew it not, my brother.'
"'I am the king, and how can you pass through my country without paying me?'
"'Speak, my friend; what is it the Mundelé can give you?'
"'Rum. I want a big bottle of rum, and then you can pass on.'
"'Rum?'
"'Yes, rum, for I am the king of this country!'
"'Rum!' I replied, wonderingly.
"'Rum; rum is good. I love rum,' he said, with a villainous leer.
"Uledi, coming forward, impetuously asked, 'What does this old man want, master?'
"'He wants rum, Uledi. Think of it!'
"'There's rum for him,' he said, irreverently slapping his majesty over the face, who, as the stool was not very firm, fell over prostrate. Naturally this was an affront, and I reproved Uledi for it. Yet it seemed that he had extricated us from a difficult position by his audacity, for the old chief and his people hurried off to their village, where there was great excitement and perturbation, but we could not stay to see the end.
"Ever and anon, as we rose above the ridged swells, we caught a glimpse of the wild river on whose bosom we had so long floated. Still white and foaming, it rushed on impetuously seaward through the sombre defile. Then we descended into a deep ravine, and presently, with uneasy, throbbing hearts, we breasted a steep slope rough with rock, and from its summit we looked abroad over a heaving, desolate, and ungrateful land. The grass was tall and ripe, and waved and rustled mournfully before the upland breezes. Soon the road declined into a valley, and we were hid in a deep fold, round which rose the upland, here to the west shagged with a thin forest, to the north with ghastly sere grass, out of which rose a few rocks, gray and sad. On our left was furze, with scrub. At the bottom of this, sad and desolate, ran a bright, crystal clear brook. Up again to the summit we strove to gain the crest of a ridge, and then, down once more the tedious road wound in crooked curves to the depth of another ravine, on the opposite side of which rose sharply and steeply, to the wearying height of twelve hundred feet, the range called Yangi-Yangi. At 11 a.m. we in the van had gained the lofty summit, and fifteen minutes afterwards we descried a settlement and its cluster of palms. An hour afterwards we were camped on a bit of level plateau to the south of the villages of Ndambi Mbongo.
"The chiefs appeared, dressed in scarlet military coats of a past epoch. We asked for food for beads. 'Cannot.' 'For wire?' 'We don't want wire!' 'For cowries?' 'Are we bushmen?' 'For cloth?' 'You must wait three days for a market'. If you have got rum you can have plenty!!' Rum! Heavens! Over two years and eight months ago we departed from the shores of the Eastern Ocean, and they ask us for rum!
"Yet they were not insolent, but unfeeling; they were not rude, but steely selfish. We conversed with them sociably enough, and obtained encouragement. A strong, healthy man would reach Embomma in three days. Three days! Only three days off from food—from comforts—luxuries even! Ah me!
"The next day, when morning was graying, we lifted our weakened limbs for another march. And such a march!—the path all thickly strewn with splinters of suet-colored quartz, which increased the fatigue and pain. The old men and the three mothers, with their young infants born at the cataracts of Masassa and Zinga, and another near the market-town of Manyanga, in the month of June, suffered greatly. Then might be seen that affection for one another which appealed to my sympathies, and endeared them to me still more. Two of the younger men assisted each of the old, and the husbands and fathers lifted their infants on their shoulders and tenderly led their wives along.
VILLAGE SCENE, WITH GRANARY IN FOREGROUND.
"Up and down the desolate and sad land wound the poor, hungry caravan. Bleached whiteness of ripest grass, gray rock-piles here and there, looming up solemn and sad in their grayness, a thin grove of trees now and then visible on the heights and in the hollows—such were the scenes that with every uplift of a ridge or rising crest of a hill met our hungry eyes. Eight miles our strength enabled us to make, and then we camped in the middle of an uninhabited valley, where we were supplied with water from the pools which we discovered in the course of a dried-up stream.
"Our march on the third day was a continuation of the scenes of the day preceding until about ten o'clock, when we arrived at the summit of a grassy and scrub-covered ridge, which we followed until three in the afternoon. The van then appeared before the miserable settlement of Nsanda, or, as it is sometimes called, Banza (town) N'sanda N'sanga. Marching through the one street of the first village in melancholy and silent procession, voiceless as sphinxes, we felt our way down into a deep gully, and crawled up again to the level of the village site, and camped about two hundred yards away. It was night before all had arrived.
"After we had erected our huts and lifted the tent into its usual place, the chief of Nsanda appeared. He was kindly, sociable—laughed, giggled, and was amusing. Of course he knew Embomma, had frequently visited there, and carried thither large quantities of Nguba, ground-nuts, which he had sold for rum. We listened, as in duty bound, with a melancholy interest. Then I suddenly asked him if he would carry a makanda, or letter, to Embomma, and allow three of my men to accompany him. He was too great to proceed himself, but he would despatch two of his young men the next day. His consent I obtained only after four hours of earnest entreaty. It was finally decided that I should write a letter, and the two young natives would be ready next day. After my dinner—three fried bananas, twenty roasted ground-nuts, and a cup of muddy water, my usual fare now—by a lamp made out of a piece of rotten sheeting steeped in a little palm-butter I wrote the following letter:
"'Village of Nsanda, August 4, 1877.
"'To any Gentleman who speaks English at Embomma:
"Dear Sir,—I have arrived at this place from Zanzibar with one hundred and fifteen souls, men, women, and children. We are now in a state of imminent starvation. We can buy nothing from the natives, for they laugh at our kinds of cloth, beads, and wire. There are no provisions in the country that may be purchased, except on market-days, and starving people cannot afford to wait for these markets. I, therefore, have made bold to despatch three of my young men, natives of Zanzibar, with a boy named Robert Feruzi, of the English Mission at Zanzibar, with this letter, craving relief from you. I do not know you; but I am told there is an Englishman at Embomma, and as you are a Christian and a gentleman, I beg you not to disregard my request. The boy Robert will be better able to describe our lone condition than I can tell you in this letter. We are in a state of the greatest distress; but if your supplies arrive in time, I may be able to reach Embomma within four days. I want three hundred cloths, each four yards long, of such quality as you trade with, which is very different from that we have; but better than all would be ten or fifteen man-loads of rice or grain to fill their pinched bellies immediately, as even with the cloths it would require time to purchase food, and starving people cannot wait. The supplies must arrive within two days, or I may have a fearful time of it among the dying. Of course I hold myself responsible for any expense you may incur in this business. What is wanted is immediate relief; and I pray you to use your utmost energies to forward it at once. For myself, if you have such little luxuries as tea, coffee, sugar, and biscuits by you, such as one man can easily carry, I beg you on my own behalf that you will send a small supply, and add to the great debt of gratitude due to you upon the timely arrival of the supplies for my people. Until that time I beg you to believe me,
"'Yours sincerely,
"'H. M. Stanley,
"'Commanding Anglo-American Expedition
for Exploration of Africa."'P.S.—You may not know me by name; I therefore add, I am the person that discovered Livingstone in 1871.—H. M. S.'
"I also wrote a letter in French, and another in Spanish as a substitute for Portuguese, as I heard at Nsanda that there was one Englishman, one Frenchman, and three Portuguese at Embomma; but there were conflicting statements, some saying that there was no Englishman, but a Dutchman. However, I imagined I was sure to obtain provisions—for most European merchants understand either English, French, or Spanish.
ANT-HILLS ON THE ROAD TO BOMA.
"The chiefs and boat's crew were called to my tent. I then told them that I had resolved to despatch four messengers to the white men at Embomma, with letters asking for food, and wished to know the names of those most likely to travel quickly and through anything that interposed to prevent them; for it might be possible that so small a number of men might be subjected to delays and interruptions, and that the guides might loiter on the way, and so protract the journey until relief would arrive too late.
"The response was not long coming, for Uledi sprang up and said, 'Oh, master, don't talk more; I am ready now. See, I will only buckle on my belt, and I shall start at once, and nothing will stop me. I will follow on the track like a leopard.'
"'And I am one,' said Kachéché. 'Leave us alone, master. If there are white men at Embomma, we will find them out. We will walk, and walk, and when we cannot walk we will crawl.'
"'Leave off talking, men,' said Muini Pembé, 'and allow others to speak, won't you? Hear me, my master. I am your servant. I will outwalk the two. I will carry the letter, and plant it before the eyes of the white men.'
"'I will go, too, sir,' said Robert.
"'Good. It is just as I should wish it; but, Robert, you cannot follow these three men. You will break down, my boy.'
"'Oh, we will carry him if he breaks down,' said Uledi. 'Won't we Kachéché?'
"'Inshallah!' responded Kachéché, decisively. 'We must have Robert along with us, otherwise the white men won't understand us.'
"Early the next day the two guides appeared, but the whole of the morning was wasted in endeavoring to induce them to set off. Uledi waxed impatient, and buckled on his accoutrements, drawing his belt so tight about his waist that it was perfectly painful to watch him, and said, 'Give us the letters, master; we will not wait for the pagans. Our people will be dead before we start. Regard them, will you! They are sprawling about the camp without any life in them. Goee—Go-ee—Go-ee.' Finally, at noon, the guides and messengers departed in company.
"Meanwhile a bale of cloth and a sack of beads were distributed, and the strongest and youngest men despatched abroad in all directions to forage for food. Late in the afternoon they arrived in camp weakened and dispirited, having, despite all efforts, obtained but a few bundles of the miserable ground-nuts and sufficient sweet potatoes to give three small ones to each person, though they had given twenty times their value for each one. The heartless reply of the spoiled aborigines was, 'Wait for the zandu,' or market, which was to be held in two days at Nsanda; for, as among the Babwendé, each district has its respective days for marketing. Still what we had obtained was a respite from death; and, on the morning of the 5th, the people were prepared to drag their weary limbs nearer to the expected relief."
VIEW FROM THE TABLE-LAND. 
"I WANT RUM." 
IN THE VALLEY. 
ONE OF THE GUIDES. 
CATCHING ANTS FOR FOOD.