Natural History furnishes an unfailing interest: "19th June.--Whydahs, though full-fledged, still gladly take a feed from their dam, putting down the breast to the ground, and cocking up the bill and chirruping in the most engaging manner and winning way they know. She still gives them a little, but administers a friendly shove-off too. They all pick up feathers or grass, and hop from side to side of their mates, as if saying, 'Come, let us play at making little houses.' The wagtail has shaken her young quite off, and has a new nest. She warbles prettily, very much like a canary, and is extremely active in catching flies, but eats crumbs of bread-and-milk too. Sun-birds visit the pomegranate flowers, and eat insects therein too, as well as nectar. The young whydah birds crouch closely together at night for heat. They look like a woolly ball on a branch. By day they engage in pairing and coaxing each other. They come to the same twig every night. Like children, they try and lift heavy weights of feathers above their strength."
On 3d July a very sad entry occurs: "Received a note from Oswell, written in April last, containing the sad intelligence of Sir Roderick's departure from among us. Alas! alas! this is the only time in my life I ever felt inclined to use the word, and it bespeaks a sore heart; the best friend I ever had,--true, warm, and abiding,--he loved me more than I deserved; he looks down on me still." This entry indicates extraordinary depth of emotion. Sir Roderick exercised a kind of spell on Livingstone. Respect for him was one of the subordinate motives that induced him to undertake this journey. The hope of giving him satisfaction was one of the subordinate rewards to which he looked forward. His death was to Livingstone a kind of scientific widowhood, and must have deprived him of a great spring to exertion in this last wandering. On Sir Roderick's part the affection for him was very great. "Looking back," says his biographer, Professor Geikie, "upon his scientific career when not far from its close, Murchison found no part of it which brought more pleasing recollections than the support he had given to African explorers--Speke, Grant, notably Livingstone. 'I rejoice,' he said, 'in the steadfast tenacity with which I have upheld my confidence in the ultimate success of the last-named of these brave men. In fact, it was the confidence I placed in the undying vigor of my dear friend Livingstone which has sustained me in the hope that I might live to enjoy the supreme delight of welcoming him back to his own country.' But that consummation was not to be. He himself was gathered to his rest just six days before Stanley brought news and relief to the forlorn traveler on Lake Tanganyika. And Livingstone, while still in pursuit of his quest, and within ten months of his death, learned in the heart of Africa the tidings which he chronicled in his journal [76]."
[76] Life of Sir R. I. Murchison, vol. ii. pp. 297-8.
At other times he is ruminating on mission-work:
"10th July.--No great difficulty would be encountered in establishing a Christian mission a hundred miles or so from the East Coast.... To the natives the chief attention of the mission should be directed. It would not be desirable or advisable to refuse explanation to others; but I have avoided giving offense to intelligent Arabs, who, having pressed me, asking if I believed in Mohamed, by saying, 'No, I do not; I am a child of Jesus bin Miriam,' avoiding anything offensive in my tone, and often adding that Mohamed found their forefathers bowing down to trees and stones, and did good to them by forbidding idolatry, and teaching the worship of the only One God. This they all know, and it pleases them to have it recognized. It might be good policy to hire a respectable Arab to engage free porters, and conduct the mission to the country chosen, and obtain permission from the chief to build temporary houses.... A couple of Europeans beginning and carrying on a mission without a staff of foreign attendants, implies coarse country fare, it is true; but this would be nothing to those who at home amuse themselves with vigils, fasting, etc. A great deal of power is thus lost in the Church. Fastings and vigils, without a special object in view, are time run to waste. They are made to minister to a sort of self-gratification, instead of being turned to account for the good of others. They are like groaning in sickness: some people amuse themselves when ill with continuous moaning. The forty days of Lent might be annually spent in visiting adjacent tribes, and bearing unavoidable hunger and thirst with a good grace. Considering the greatness of the object to be attained, men might go without sugar, coffee, tea, as I went from September, 1866, to December, 1868, without either."
On the subject of Missions he says, at a later period, 8th November: "The spirit of missions is the spirit of our Master; the very genius of his religion. A diffusive philanthropy is Christianity itself. It requires perpetual propagation to attest its genuineness."
Thanks to Mr. Stanley and the American Consul, who made arrangements in a way that drew Livingstone's warmest gratitude, his escort arrived at last, consisting of fifty-seven men and boys. Several of these had gone with Mr. Stanley from Unyanyembe to Zanzibar; among the new men were some Nassick pupils who had been sent from Bombay to join Lieutenant Dawson. John and Jacob Wainwright were among these. To Jacob Wainwright, who was well-educated, we owe the earliest narrative that appeared of the last eight months of Livingstone's career. How happy he was with the men now sent to him appears from a letter to Mr. Stanley, written very near his death: "I am perpetually reminded that I owe a great deal to you for the men, you sent. With one exception, the party is working like a machine. I give my orders to Manwa Sera, and never have to repeat them." Would that he had had such a company before!
On the 25th August the party started. On the 8th October they reached Tanganyika, and rested, for they were tired, and several were sick, including Livingstone, who had been ill with his bowel disorder. The march went on slowly, and with few incidents. As the season advanced, rain, mist, swollen streams, and swampy ground became familiar. At the end of the year they were approaching the river Chambeze. Christmas had its thanksgiving: "I thank the good Lord for the good gift of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."
In the second week of January they came near Bangweolo, and the reign of Neptune became incessant. We are told of cold rainy weather; sometimes a drizzle, sometimes an incessant pour; swollen streams and increasing sponges,--making progress a continual struggle. Yet, as he passes through a forest, he has an eye to its flowers, which are numerous and beautiful:
"There are many flowers in the forest; marigolds, a white jonquil-looking flower without smell, many orchids, white, yellow, and pink asclepias, with bunches of French-white flowers, clematis--Methonica gloriosa, gladiolus, and blue and deep purple polygalas, grasses with white starry seed-vessels, and spikelets of brownish red and yellow. Besides these, there are beautiful blue flowering bulbs, and new flowers of pretty, delicate form and but little scent. To this list may be added balsams, composite of blood-red color and of purple; other flowers of liver color, bright canary yellow, pink orchids on spikes thickly covered all round, and of three inches in length; spiderworts of fine blue or yellow or even pink. Different colored asclepiadeæ; beautiful yellow and red umbelliferous flowering plants; dill and wild parsnips; pretty flowering aloes, yellow and red, in one whorl of blossoms; peas and many other flowering plants which I do not know."