Soon after this it was reported that Snay and other Arabs had been killed, as well as a number of slaves. This proved to be true.
Finding that nothing more could be done at Caze, the travellers, assembling their caravan, commenced their march northward on the 17th of March.
On the 24th they reached Mininga, where they were received by an ivory merchant named Sirboko. Here one of Sirboko’s slaves, who had been chained up, addressed Speke, piteously exclaiming: “Oh, my lord, take pity on me! When I was a free man, I saw you on the Tanganyika lake; my people were there attacked by the Watuta, and, being badly wounded, I was left for dead, when, recovering, I was sold to the Arabs. If you will liberate me, I will never run away, but serve you faithfully.” Touched by this appeal, Speke obtained the freedom of the poor man from his master, and he was christened Farham, or Joy, and enrolled among his other freemen.
The abominable conduct of the Arabs, who persisted in attacking the natives and devastating the country, placed the travellers in an awkward position. The Hottentots, too, suffered so much from sickness that, as the only hope of saving their lives, it was necessary to send them back to Zanzibar. Speke therefore found it necessary to return to Caze, which he reached on the 2nd of May, leaving Grant, who was ill, behind at Mininga.
He here heard of a tribe of cannibals, who, when they cannot get human flesh, give a goat to their neighbours for a dying child, considering such as the best flesh. They are, however, the only cannibals known in that district.
They were still in the country of the Weezee, of whose curious customs they had an opportunity of seeing more. Both sexes are inveterate smokers. They quickly manufacture their pipes of a lump of clay and a green twig, from which they extract the pith. They all grow tobacco, the leaves of which they twist up into a thick rope like a hay-band, and then coil it into a flattened spiral, shaped like a target. They are very fond of dancing. A long strip of bark or cow-skin is laid on the ground, and the Weezee arrange themselves along it, the tallest man posting himself in the centre. When they have taken their places the musicians begin playing on their instruments, while the dancers commence a strange chant, more like a howl than a song. They bow their heads, putting their hands on their hips and stamping vigorously. The men not dancing look on, encouraging their friends by joining in the chorus, while the women stand behind without speaking. Meantime, the elders sit on the ground drinking pomba. On one of these occasions the chief, who was present, drank more pomba than any of the people.
While the party were thus engaged, two lads, with zebra
manes tied over their heads, and two bark tubes, formed like huge bassoons, in their hands, leaped into the centre of the dancers, twisting and turning and blowing their horns in the most extraordinary manner. The men, women, and children, inspired by the sound of the music, on this began to sing and clap their hands in time.
Pomba is a sort of spirituous liquor, produced from a kind of grain grown in the country, which is cultivated by women, who nearly entirely superintend the preparation of the drink.