Proceeding due west about one hundred and fifty miles, when moving over the brow of a hill, they came in sight of the lovely Tanganyika lake, which could be seen in all its glory by everybody but Lieutenant Speke, who was suffering from inflammation of the eyes, caught by sleeping on the ground while his system was reduced by fevers and the influence of the vertical sun. It had brought on almost total blindness, and every object before him appeared clouded by a misty veil.
They were now standing on the eastern horn of a large, crescent-shaped mass of mountains, overhanging the northern half of the lake. These mountains Speke supposed to be the true Mountains of the Moon.
Reaching the margin of the lake, a canoe was hired to carry them to Ujiji, the chief place on its shores, frequented by Arabs. The lake at which they now arrived was supposed to be three hundred and eighty miles long, and thirty to forty broad. Its waters are sweet and abound with fine fish. The sides of the lake are thickly inhabited by numerous negro tribes, among whom are the Wabembe cannibals, into whose territory the Arabs dare not venture.
The explorers took up their abode in the deserted house of an Arab merchant, at a small village called Kawéle; but, unfortunately, the chief of the place, Kannina, was a tyrannical extortioner, and caused them much trouble. They wished to engage an Arab dhow for navigating the lake, sufficiently large to carry provisions and to resist hostile attacks, but could only obtain a canoe. It was long and narrow, hollowed-out of the trunk of a single tree. She carried Bombay, Gaetano, two Belooch soldiers, and a captain, with
twenty stark-naked savage sailors. In this Speke set out on the 3rd of March, 1858, while Burton, too sick to move, remained at Ujiji. Speke and his attendants had moved but a short distance along the shore, when a storm came on, and they had to camp till the afternoon of the 5th, when all got on board.
To pack so many men together was no easy matter. Speke had his bedding amidships, spread on reeds; the cook and bailsman sat facing him, and Bombay and one Belooch behind him. Beyond them, in couples, were the crew, the captain taking post in the bows. The seventeen paddles dashed off with vigour. Steering southwards, they passed the mouth of the Ruche river. They paddled on all night, and after dawn landed in a secluded nook for breakfast. All were busily occupied. Gaetano dipped his cooking-pot in the sea for water, greatly to the annoyance of the natives, who declared that the dregs from it would excite the appetites of the crocodiles, who would be sure to follow the boat. They have as great an aversion to the crocodile as English seamen have to a shark.
Suddenly there was a cry that foes were coming. All, jumping up, rushed to the boat, some seizing one thing, some another, the greater number being left on the ground. A breathless silence followed; then one jumped on shore to secure a pot, and then another, and, gaining courage, they searched around, crawling cautiously in the bush, others stealthily moving along, till at last a single man was pounced upon, with an arrow poised in hand. He was one of eight or ten men of a tribe whom they declared to be a rough, lawless set of marauders. They therefore broke his bow and arrows, and, though some of the crew proposed taking his life, he was allowed to go. The sailors, on their return, each vaunted the part he had taken in the exploit, boasting as though a mighty battle had been won.
They passed along a border of aquatic reeds, tenanted by crocodiles and hippopotami, the latter staring, grunting, and snorting, as if vexed at the intrusion on their privacy. Many parts of the shore were desolate, the result of slave-hunting and cattle-lifting parties.
“At night Speke’s tent is pitched; the men build huts for themselves with boughs, covering the top with grass, two men at the most occupying a hut. When it rains they are covered by their mats, but, as they are all stark-naked, the rain can do them no harm.