From the Cape to Cairo: The First Traverse of Africa from South to North - Ewart Scott Grogan; Arthur H. Sharp

[Frontispiece: I advanced with outstretched Hand (missing from book)]

From the
Cape to Cairo

The First Traverse of
Africa from South to North

BY
EWART S. GROGAN
AND
ARTHUR H. SHARP

T. Nelson & Sons, Ltd.

extra publisher info

TO
THE MEMORY OF
THE GREATEST AND MOST FAR-SEEING
OF
BRITISH IMPERIAL STATESMEN,

THE RT. HON. CECIL JOHN RHODES,

THIS VOLUME
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY
EWART SCOTT GROGAN
AND
ARTHUR HENRY SHARP.

Government House,
Buluwayo,

7th Sept., 1900.

My Dear Grogan,

You ask me to write you a short introduction for your book, but I am sorry to say that literary composition is not one of my gifts, my correspondence and replies being conducted by telegrams.

I must say I envy you, for you have done that which has been for centuries the ambition of every explorer, namely, to walk through Africa from South to North. The amusement of the whole thing is that a youth from Cambridge during his vacation should have succeeded in doing that which the ponderous explorers of the world have failed to accomplish. There is a distinct humour in the whole thing. It makes me the more certain that we shall complete the telegraph and railway, for surely I am not going to be beaten by the legs of a Cambridge undergraduate.

Your success the more confirms one's belief. The schemes described by Sir William Harcourt as "wild cat" you have proved are capable of being completed, even in that excellent gentleman's lifetime.

As to the commercial aspect, every one supposes that the railway is being built with the only object that a human being may be able to get in at Cairo and get out at Cape Town.

This is, of course, ridiculous. The object is to cut Africa through the centre, and the railway will pick up trade all along the route. The junctions to the East and West coasts, which will occur in the future, will be outlets for the traffic obtained along the route of the line as it passes through the centre of Africa. At any rate, up to Buluwayo, where I am now, it has been a payable undertaking, and I still think it will continue to be so as we advance into the far interior. We propose now to go on and cross the Zambesi just below the Victoria Falls. I should like to have the spray of the water over the carriages.

I can but finish by again congratulating you, and by saying that your success has given me great encouragement in the work that I have still to accomplish.

Yours,
C. J. RHODES.

PREFACE TO NEW EDITION.

Since bringing out the first edition of this book, I have revisited the United States, Australasia, and Argentina in order that I might again compare the difficulties before us in Africa with the difficulties which these new countries have already overcome. I am now more than ever satisfied that its possibilities are infinitely great. Of the fertility and natural resources of the country I had no doubt. But two great stumbling-blocks loomed ahead: they were the prevalence of malaria and the difficulty of initial development owing to the dearth of navigable waterways. The epoch-making studies by Major Ross and other scientists of the influence of the mosquito on the distribution of malaria have shewn that we are within measurable distance of largely minimising its ravages, if not of completely removing it from the necessary risks of African life. A comparison of the death-rates in Calcutta, Hong-Kong, and other malarious regions with the present rates has also proved how immense is the influence of settlement on climate. As to the other obstacle, the question of access, I was amazed to find that in the United States the railways practically have absorbed all the carrying trade of the magnificent waterways, which intersect the whole country east of the Rockies. Naturally, these waterways were of immense assistance in the original opening up of the country, but now that the railways are constructed, they are of little importance.

I would also point out to those who still profess mistrust of the practical objects of railway construction in Africa, the object-lesson which the trans-American lines afford. They were pushed ahead of all settlement into the great unknown exactly as the Cape to Cairo line is being pushed ahead to-day. But there is this difference: in America they penetrated silent wastes tenanted by naught else than the irreconcilable Redskin, the prairie marmot, and the bison; while in Africa they pass through lands rich in Nature's products and teeming with peoples who do not recede before the white man's march.

Another point: when the main railway system of Africa, as sketched out by Mr. Rhodes, is complete, there will be no single point as remote from a port as are some of the districts in America which are to-day pouring out their food-stuffs along hundreds of miles of rail.

In the words of the old Greek, "History is Philosophy teaching by examples." The world writhes with the quickening life of change. The tide of our supreme ascendancy is on the ebb. Nations, like men, are subject to disease. Let us beware of fatty degeneration of the heart. Luxury is sweeping away the influences which formed our character. It is as though our climate has been changed from the bleak northern winds to the tropic's indolent ease. Yet we have still a chance. While we sleep, broad tracks have been cut for us by those whom we revile. Far and wide our outposts are awake, beckoning to the great army to sweep along the tracks. Let each man with means and muscles for the fray go forth at least to see what empire is. Clive, Hastings, Rhodes, a thousand lesser men whose tombs are known only to the forest breeze, have left us legacies of which we barely dream. Millions of miles of timber, metals, coal, lie waiting for the breath of life, "pegged out" for Britain's sons. In these our destiny lies. We live but once: let us be able, when the last summons comes, to say with the greatest of us all, "Tread me down. Pass on. I have done my work."

CONTENTS.

CHAP.

[The Cape to Beira and the Sabi]
[The Pungwe and Gorongoza's Plain--Second Expedition]
[The Zambezi and Shiré Rivers]
[Chiperoni]
[British Central Africa and Lake Nyassa]
[Karonga to Kituta across the Tanganyika Plateau]
[The Chambesi]
[Tanganyika]
[The Rusisi Valley]
[Lake Kivu]
[The Volcanoes]
[Mushari and its Cannibals]
[The Rutchuru Valley and the Albert Edward Lake]
[Katwe to Toro]
[Toro to Mboga]
[Semliki Valley and Kavalli's Country]
[Albert Lake and Upper Nile to Wadelai]
[Wadelai to Kero]
[Kero to Abu-Kuka and back to Bohr]
[In Dinka-land]
[In Nuerland]
[The Sobat to Cairo]
[The Trans-Continental Railway]
[Native Questions]

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

[I advanced with outstretched Hand] (missing from book) . . . Frontispiece

[It was a gruesome Sight]

[And I was compelled to stoop down and grope]

[One or more of the neighbouring Chiefs came to pay his Respects]

[On the Track of the Cannibals]

[Balegga waiting for Elephant]

[There were numbers of Dinkas fishing here]

[Map of the Route]

FROM THE CAPE TO CAIRO.

CHAPTER I.

THE CAPE TO BEIRA AND THE SABI.

To describe the first stage of the route from the Cape to Cairo, that is to say, as far as the Zambesi, which I accomplished four years ago, would, if time be counted by progress, be reverting to the Middle Ages. The journey to Buluwayo, which meant four dismal days and three yet more dismal nights, in a most dismal train, whose engine occasionally went off on its own account to get a drink, and nine awful days and nine reckless nights in a Gladstone bag on wheels, labelled coach, can now be accomplished in, I believe, two and a half days in trains that rival in comfort the best efforts of our American cousins. When I think of those awful hundreds of miles through dreary wastes of sand and putrefying carcases, the seemingly impossible country that the Buluwayo road passed through, the water-courses, the hills, the waterless stages, and the final oasis, where one could buy a bottle of beer for 10s. 6d., and a cauliflower for 363., and that now men sit down to their fresh fish or pheasant for breakfast, where the old scramble daily took place for a portion of bully beef and rice; and when I think that the fish and pheasant epoch is already old history, then I know that the hand of a mighty wizard is on the country, and that yet one more name will go down to the coming ages which will loom big midst the giants that have built up an Empire such as the world has never seen. When I think, too, of my numerous friends in the country who have given their heave, some a great heave, some a little heave, yet a heave all together, and who toil on unaware of their own heroism, turning aside as a jest the vituperation of their countrymen; and when I think how I have seen the old Viking blood, long time frozen in Piccadilly and the clubs, burst forth in the old irresistible stream, then I know that it is good to be an Englishman, and a great pity fills me for those whose lives are cast in narrow ways, and who never realise the true significance of Civis Britannicus sum.

My first experience of Africa was gained in the second Matabele war, when Rhodesia was yet young. The railway had only reached Mafeking, and my experiences were not such as to make me desire a second visit. But the spirit of the veldt was upon me, and in comfortable England these trials sank into the misty oblivion of the past, and a short twelve months after I again started for those inhospitable shores.

However, I will not weary the reader with what he has had dinned into his ears for the last four years, by describing Rhodesia; nor will I dilate on how, at Lisbon, through a Bucellas-induced haze, I noticed that all the men had a patch in their trousers, all the women were ugly, all the food was dirty, and all the friendly-disposed were thieves, nor will I hurt the feelings of the Deutsch Ost Afrika Cie. by telling how badly managed their boats are; how they are perambulating beershops, disguised as liners; how conducive to sleep is a ten-strong brass band at five yards, seized with religious enthusiasm at 7 a.m. on Sunday morning--all these I will pass over, knowing that a Cicero redivivus alone could do justice to the theme.

Beyond this, suffice it to say, that on February 28th of the year of our Lord 1898, Arthur Henry Sharp and Ewart Scott Grogan, in company of sundry German officers and beer enthusiasts, took part in the usual D.O.A.'s Liner manoeuvre of violently charging a sandbank in the bay of Beira on a flood-tide, to the ear-smashing accompaniment of the German National Anthem. In the intervals of waiting to be floated, and finding out how many of our loads had been lost, we amused ourselves by catching sharks, which swarmed round the stern of the vessel. Beira, as every one knows, is mainly composed of galvanized iron, sun-baked sand, drinks, and Portuguese ruffians, and is inhabited by a mixed society of railway employés, excellent fellows, Ohio wags, and German Jews. The Government consists of a triumvirate composed of a "king," who also at odd times imports railways, the British Consul, and the Beira Post, and sundry minor Portuguese officials, who provide entertainment for the town, such as volley-firing down the main streets, dredging operations in the lagoon at the back of the town, bugle-blowing, etc., etc. The dredging operations and the subsequent depositing of the mud on the highways were undertaken, I believe, in a friendly spirit of rivalry as to the death-rate with Fontesvilla (a salubrious riverside resort about thirty miles inland); a consequent rise to thirty in one day established a record that, I believe, is still unbeaten. There was a Portuguese corvette in the bay, and I had the pleasure of dining on board; the doctor, a most charming specimen of the Portuguese gentleman (and a Portuguese gentleman is a gentleman), helped me to pass my things through the Custom House, and those who know Beira will understand what that means. At Beira I met many old friends, amongst them the ever-green Mr. Lawley, indefatigable as of yore, and was surprised to see the immense strides that the town had made in fourteen months. If it is not washed away some day, it should become second only in importance to Delagoa Bay. Before starting north, we determined to have a few months' shooting, and with this end in view took train to Umtali with the necessary kit. The new site of Umtali township is a more commanding position than the old one, and already a large number of fine buildings had been put up, but now that the temporary activity consequent on its being the railway terminus has passed away, I cannot foresee much future for the place, as the pick of the mines appear to be over the new Anglo-Portuguese boundary, and will be worked from Macequece.

We decided to try the Sabi, a river running parallel to, and south of, the Pungwe, having heard great accounts of the lions in that part; and with this end in view, hired a wagon, which after many days landed us and ours at Mtambara's Kraal on the Umvumvumvu, a nice stream running into the Udzi, which is a tributary of the Sabi. Mtambara was formerly a chief of considerable importance, but the advent of the white man has reduced him to the position of a mere figurehead; he is a phthisical old gentleman of no physique, decked out in a dirty patch of cloth and a bandolier of leather and white beads; he squats and takes snuff, takes snuff and squats, and had not yet joined the Blue Ribbon Army. There being no road to the Udzi, we had to send the wagon back and collect carriers for our loads. Two days' hard walking brought us to the edge of the high veldt, whence the path dived down the most fantastic limestone valley, between high cliffs thickly clothed with foliage, and topped by rows of square rock pillars, splashed with the warm tints of the moss and lichens that festooned their sides. At our feet lay the bush-clad plain of the Udzi, a carpet of green picked out with the occasional silver of the river itself, and in the hazy distance stretched an unbroken range of purple hills, backed by the silvery green and dull smoke-red of sunset. On the third day we camped on the Udzi, about six miles above its junction with the Sabi. The whole country is covered with low black scrub, and though there are many impala[#] and small buck, there are very few large antelopes, so after a few days' inspection we came to the conclusion that it was not good enough, and decided to return to Umtali and risk the climate of my old shooting grounds on the Pungwe.

[#] A small antelope (Æpyceros melampus).

Sharp went back by the road to pick up the loads and sick men at Mtambara's, while I followed up the Udzi for about twenty miles, and then struck across country to reach Umtali quickly in order to send out a wagon. After leaving the river-basin, I camped on a kopje about 1,000 ft. high, where I had one of the finest views it has ever been my fortune to see.

Beyond the valley lay range upon range of hills, stretching far as the eye could reach; fleecy clouds covered the sun, bursting with every conceivable shade, from delicate rose to deepest purple, backed by that wondrous green (or is it blue?) that so often in the tropics accompanies Phoebus to his rest; rarely one may see it at home in summer-time, as intangible as it is delicate, and, permeating the whole landscape, a sinuous mesh of molten red, a ghostly sea from which the peaks reared their purple silhouettes, until they faded into the uncertainty of lilac mists, like some billowy sea nestling to the bosom of the storm-cloud. From here I walked to Umtali, a distance of sixty miles, in nineteen hours, as I was anxious about the sick men at Mtambara's, and long will the ripple of the ensuing brandy-and-soda linger in my memory. After securing the services of a wagon, I had to lay up for a couple of days with fever and a bad foot, but turned out for a concert given as a house-warming by the latest hotel. It was a typical South African orgie, in a long, low, wooden room, plainly furnished with deal tables, packed to overflowing with the most cosmopolitan crowd imaginable, well-bred 'Varsity men rubbing shoulders with animal-faced Boers, leavened with Jews, parasites, bummers, nondescripts, and every type of civilized savage. Faces yellow with fever, faces coppered by the sun, faces roseate with drink, and faces scarred, keen, money-lustful, and stamped with every vice and some of the virtues; a substratum of bluff, business advertisement, pat-on-the-back-kick-you-when-you're-not-looking air permeated everything, and keen appreciation of both musical garbage and real talent.

Starting for Salisbury, where I wanted to look up some old friends, I was made the victim of one of those subtle little jests so much appreciated by many of the petty officials in South Africa, who are for ever reminding one of their importance. I turned up at three, the advertised time for the coach's departure, and, finding no mules or signs of activity, learned that (being an official case) three meant three Cape time, or four Umtali time. So I went back to my hotel, and again turning up at ten to four, found that the coach had left at a quarter to four without blowing the bugle, and knowing that there was one passenger short; this necessitated a nine-mile walk to old Umtali in the rain, which, after three days' fever, was very enjoyable. The company, a pleasant one, was somewhat marred by the presence of a fat Jew of the most revolting type; unkempt curly black hair, lobster-like, bloodshot eyes with the glazed expression peculiar to tipplers and stale fish, a vast nose pronouncedly Bacchanalian, the hues of which varied from yellow through green to livid purple, and lips that would shame any negro, purple as the extremity of the nose, a small, straggling moustache and a runaway chin, the whole plentifully smeared with an unpleasant exudation, kept perpetually simmering by his anxiety lest some one should steal a march on him, made a loathsome tout ensemble that is by no means rare in South Africa. The way that creature fought for food! Well! I have seen hyænas and negroes fighting for food, but never such hopelessly abandoned coarseness as he displayed at every meal on the road, and for no apparent reason, as there was plenty for all, and by general consent he had the monopoly of any dish that he touched.

Salisbury, which is quite the aristocratic resort of Rhodesia, had made very little progress during my eighteen months' absence, though there had been some activity in the mining districts. The business of ferreting out the murderers in the late rebellion was still proceeding, and I saw about thirty condemned negroes in the gaol, and more were daily added. I went to one of the sittings and saw so many gruesome relics, burnt pipes, charred bones, skulls, etc., that I did not repeat my visit. I was forcibly struck by the absolute justice meted out: the merest technicality of law or the faintest shade of doubt sufficing for acquittal. Many of the natives in custody thus escaped, although their guilt was certain and well known. My return journey to Umtali was enlivened by the company of one of the civic dignitaries of Salisbury, who was going to "give it hot to Rhodes," shake him up a bit, and generally put things straight. In one day I had the whole future policy of Rhodesia and all outstanding difficulties like labour, etc., disposed of as though they were the merest bagatelles. So struck was I with the masterly grasp of gigantic questions that I fell into a profound slumber, whereupon, realizing that after all I was but an ordinary mortal, and consequently possessed of but ordinary intelligence, he roused me, and in five minutes sketched out a plan that would make my intended trip north a certain success; this, with more personal advice on a score of points, lasted till Umtali, where we found so-called celebrations in full swing. These celebrations (or barmen's benefits, as they should more appropriately be called) are of common occurrence, and are invariably got up on any sort of excuse; they take the outward form of a few pieces of bunting, and result in every one but the licensed few finding themselves next morning considerably poorer, and in an abnormal demand for Seidlitz powders. Society at Umtali groups itself into two classes, those who have liquor and those who have not, and each class into three divisions: first, a small number who have killed lions and say very little about it; secondly, a large number of persons who have not killed lions, but tell you they have, and say much about it; and thirdly, a very large number who have not killed lions, but think it necessary to apologize for the fact by telling you that they have not lost any.

CHAPTER II.

THE PUNGWE AND GORONGOZA'S PLAIN.

"The bulky, good-natured lion, whose only means of defence are the natural ones of tooth and claw, has no chance against the jumping little rascal, who pops behind a bush and pokes a gun straight at the bigger brute's heart."--MARIE CORELLI.

Instead of following the Urema as on a previous trip, we marched up the Pungwe almost as far as Sarmento, an old Portuguese settlement, and then struck off north to a long lagoon that lies on the western extremity of Gorongoza's plain. Here we found enormous quantities of game, thousands of wildebeeste and zebra, and many impala, waterbuck, and hartebeeste. At night a hyæna came and woke us up by drinking the soapy water in our indiarubber bath, which was lying just outside our tent. We turned out and drove him away, but had no sooner climbed into our beds again than he returned and bolted with the bath, and, before we could make him drop it, had mauled it to such an extent that it was of no further use.

As after the first night we heard no lions, we decided to move across to the Urema. On the way we sighted three eland, but though Sharp and I chased them for about eight miles we were unsuccessful.

Towards the Urema the plain opens out to a great width and becomes very swampy, and as the water had just subsided, it was covered with short sweet grass. Here we saw between 40,000 and 50,000 head of game, mostly wildebeeste, which opened out to let us pass and then closed in again behind. It was a wonderful sight; vast moving masses of life, as far as the eye could reach. A fortnight later they had eaten up the grass, and most of them were scattered about the surrounding country. Some of the swamps were very bad, and we were finally compelled to camp in the middle far from any wood.

The next day we struck camp and marched up the Urema to a belt of trees which we could see in the distance. Several good streams, the most important being the Umkulumadzi, flow down from the mountains, and meandering across the plain, empty themselves into the Urema. Sharp and I went on ahead of our caravan, and keeping well to the south-west to avoid swamps, came on a nice herd of buffalo which we stalked. At our shots a few turned off into some long tufts of grass, while the main body went straight away. One, evidently sick, came edging towards us, and I gave him two barrels, Sharp doing likewise; I then gave him two more and dropped him. I kept my eye on where he lay as we advanced to get a shot at the others, who had again stood about 100 yards farther on, and he suddenly rose at thirty yards and charged hard, nose in air, foaming with blood, and looking very nasty. I put both barrels in his chest without the slightest effect, and then started for the river, doing level time and shouting to Sharp to do likewise; all the crocodiles in the universe seemed preferable to that incarnation of hell. But Sharp had not yet learnt his buffalo, and waited for him. I heard a shot, and stopped in time to see the beast stagger for a second with a broken jaw, then come on in irresistible frenzy; but still Sharp stood as though to receive a cavalry charge, crack rang out the rifle, and the great brute came pitching forward on to its nose, and rolled within three yards of Sharp's feet with a broken fetlock. It was a magnificent sight, and the odd chance in a hundred turned up. Now Sharp knows his buffalo, and is prepared to back himself, when one turns nasty, to do his hundred in 9-4/5 seconds.

Except an elephant, there is nothing harder to stop than a charging buffalo, as, when once he has made up his mind, he means business; there is no turning him, and if he misses he will round and come again and hunt a man down like a dog. Holding his head in the air as he does in practice, and not low down as in the picture-books, he gives no mark except the chest, which is rarely a dropping shot. Having hacked off his head (the buffalo's), we went in pursuit of our caravan, and found that Mahony had pitched camp in the most perfect spot imaginable. A strip of open park-like bush ran down from the mountains, cutting the vast Gorongoza plain into two portions, and abutting on the river, where it had spread into a small lagoon with banks 20 ft. high. Beyond lay another plain stretching away to the bush that lies at the foot of the ridge which runs north and south, and is the watershed of the Urema and the coast. In all directions from our camp we could see herds of game grazing. Flocks of fowl flighted up and down the watercourse, huge crocodiles leered evilly at us as they floated like logs on the oily water, broken only by the plomp-plomp of the numerous fish, and now and then the head of a mud-turtle rose like a ghost from below, without even a ripple, drew a long hissing breath, and as silently vanished. As there was lions' spoor by the water, we strolled out after tea and dropped a brace of zebra by the edge of the bush. After an eventful night, during which leopards coughed, lions roared, hyænas dashed into camp and bolted with my best waterbuck head, we all turned out early. Sharp went down the river, while Mahony and I went to our baits. The first had completely vanished, and the second had been dragged some three hundred yards under the shade of a palm-tree. Here we picked up the spoor of a big lion, who had evidently got our wind as we left camp. We followed for about a mile along the bush, when Mahony saw him watching us round the corner of an ant-hill. The lion, seeing that he was observed, doubled like a flash, and before Mahony could fire, had dashed into a small patch of thick jungle. We lost no time in following, and were carefully picking our way through the undergrowth, when I heard a deep grunt about twenty yards to my right, and saw him, tail straight in the air, vanishing through the bush. Mahony rushed along the jungle; while I made a desperate burst through the thorn into the open. I just caught a glimpse of the lion going through the scattered palms towards the open plain. When I reached the end of the palms, he was going hard about two hundred yards away. Using the double .500 magnum, I removed his tooth with the first barrel, and with the second pulled him up short with a shot in the hind leg. Mahony then arrived on the scene and gave him a .500, while I finished him off with two shots from the .303. He was a very old lion with his teeth much broken, but had a good mane, and measured as he lay from tip to tip 9 ft. 10-½ in.

As the moon was now full, I determined to sit up, and having killed a zebra close to two small palms, I built a screen of palm-leaves and awaited events. The first two nights nothing came but mosquitoes, and the third night two hunting dogs turned up, but I didn't fire for fear of disturbing some lions which I could hear in the distance. These dogs are very beautiful animals with long bushy tails. They hunt in large packs, and must destroy an immense quantity of game. Shortly after the dogs had vanished a lion came to the jungle which was about four hundred yards away, and apparently detecting my scent, in spite of the competition of the zebra, which was three days old, vented his disapproval in three stupendous roars. This is one of the few occasions on which I heard a lion really roar, though every night for months I have heard packs of them in all directions. The usual cry is a sort of vast sigh taken up by the chorus with a deep sob, sob, sob, or a curious rumbling noise. The true roar is indescribable. It is so deceptive as to distance, and seems to permeate the whole universe, thundering, rumbling, majestic. There is no music in the world so sweet. Let me recommend it to the Wagner school! Thousands of German devotees, backed by thousands of beers, could never approach the soul-stirring glory of one Felis leo at home. I then heard him going away to the north, rumbling to himself at intervals, and at 5 a.m. left my scherm[#] and started in pursuit, hoping to come up with him at daybreak in the plain. I could still hear his occasional rumblings, and, taking a line by the moon, made terrific pace. After leaving the ridge, I plunged into a dense bank of fog that lay on the plain, but still managed to keep my line, as the moon showed a lurid red and remained visible till sunrise. The lion had stopped his meditations for some time, and imperceptibly the light of day had eaten into the fog, when suddenly my gun-boy "Rhoda" gripped me by the arm, his teeth chattering like castanets, and said that he saw the lion in front. At the same instant I thought that I saw a body moving in the mist about seventy yards away, now looking like an elephant, now like a jackal. Then the mist swirled round, wrapping it in obscurity once more. I followed carefully, when suddenly an eddy in the fog disclosed a male lion thirty yards away, wandering along as if the whole world belonged to him. He rolled his head from side to side, swished his tail, poked his nose into every bunch of grass, then stopped and stood broadside on. I raised the .500, but found that I had forgotten to remove the bunch of cloth which served for a night sight, and, before this was remedied, the chance was gone. Again I followed and again he turned, when I dropped him with a high shoulder shot. As the grass was only 3 in. high and the lion not more than thirty yards distant, we lay flat and awaited the turn of events. He lashed out, tearing up the ground with his paws, then stood up and looked like going away. I fired again. This gave him my whereabouts. He swung round and began stalking towards me to investigate matters, so I snatched my .500 and knocked him over with one in the chest. We then retired to a more respectful distance. But he rose again, and once more I fired. Still he fought on, rolling about, rumbling, groaning, and making frantic efforts to rise, till I crept up close and administered a .303 forward shot in the stomach, which settled him. He died reluctantly even then. It is astonishing how difficult lions are to kill, if the first shot is not very well placed. I attribute it to the fact that after the first shot there is practically no subsequent shock to the system. This is especially remarkable in the larger brutes, such as the elephant, rhino, or buffalo. If the first shot is misplaced, one can fire shot after shot, even through the heart, without immediate effect. He was a good lion, in the prime of life, with mane, teeth, and claws perfect.

[#] Fence or screen.

Sharp meanwhile had been making his first acquaintance with that ingenious device of the devil's, the jigger,[#] which confined him to the camp for a week with a very ugly foot.

[#] The jigger, the "pulex penetrans."

Mahony, who had gone down-river, saw a male lion, but failed to stop him with a long shot, but the next day in the same place came unexpectedly on two lionesses, both of which he wounded. As they took refuge in the grass, which was very extensive and thick, and he saw a cub, he sent into camp for another gun. Sharp turned out in spite of his foot, and I followed immediately when I returned to camp and found the note. After a hard spurt of six miles, I met them coming back in triumph with the pelt of one lioness and five small rolls of fur and ferocity slung on poles. The cubs had been captured with difficulty. One only succumbed after being bowled over with a sun helmet. They were great fun in camp, and throve amazingly on cooked liver, of which they devoured enormous quantities. Two of them were males, and three of them (one male and two females[#]) are now disporting themselves in the Society's Gardens in Regent's Park.

[#] One female has since died.

Hoping to see something of the other lioness or the lion I returned to the same place next day, and after examining the neighbourhood of the grass, pushed on still farther to the centre of the swamp. In this swamp the river spreads out into a vast network of channels, with a small central lagoon. Owing to the dryness of the season, it was possible to cross most of the channels, which were then merely mud-troughs, and to reach the lagoon, which was about four hundred yards wide. Here I witnessed a most extraordinary sight. About fifty hippo were lying about in the water, and on the banks. As the water was not in most parts deep enough to cover them, they presented the appearance of so many huge seals basking in the sun. They climbed in and out, strolled about, rolled in, splashing, shouting, blowing, and entirely ignoring my presence. After watching them for some time, I sent my boys to the far end to drive them past. The boys yelled and threw stones at them. Suddenly the hippo took alarm and rushed en masse for the narrow channel of the waterway. Down this they swarmed, kicking the water 30 ft. in the air, throwing their heads back, roaring, thundering, and crashing along, while I stood on the bank at twenty yards and took photographs, all of which unfortunately failed.

It was a gruesome Sight.

The banks of every channel and mud-hole were lined with huge yellow masses of crocodiles; thousands and thousands of wildfowl (mainly Egyptian and spur-wing geese), which were nesting in the hippo holes, kept up a ceaseless din; herds and herds of game appeared as though dancing in the mirage, and the whole scene was one to delight the heart of a lover of nature. There indeed one felt one was far from the madding crowd.

During the night we were awakened by the most terrific yells, and found that some crocodiles had gone into the boys' quarters. Fortunately they contented themselves with removing about two hundredweight of meat.

As the lions appeared to have left the country, we moved up the river to our original camp for a week to give the plain a rest, and bagged an eland. Sharp secured a good lioness in the lion donga.

On our return I shot a zebra for bait in the strip of bush. Turning out somewhat reluctantly at 5.30 a.m. with no hopes of success, as the lions had been very quiet all night, I was cutting the wind rather fine when I saw a number of birds sitting at a respectful distance from the carcase. Approaching cautiously, I saw some brute apparently pulling at something, but could not see clearly what it was, as it was still more or less dark. I knew it must be a lion from its bulk, yet dared not think so. I retraced my steps for the wind and crept up to within sixty yards under cover of a stunted palm. Peering cautiously round, I saw, in the middle of a circle of some two hundred vultures, a grand old lion, leisurely gnawing the ribs. Behind him were four little jackals sitting in a row. It would be difficult to imagine a more perfect picture. In the background stretched the limitless plain, streaked with mists shimmering in the growing light of the rising sun. Clumps of graceful palms fenced in a sandy arena where the zebra had fallen. Round its attenuated remains, just out of reach of the swish of the monarch's tail, was a solid circle of waiting vultures, craning their bald necks, chattering and hustling one another. The more daring quartette sat within the magic circle like four little images of patience, while the lion in all his might and matchless grandeur of form, leisurely chewed and scrunched the tit-bits, magnificently regardless of the watchful eyes of the encircling canaille. Loath to break the spell, I watched the scene for fully ten minutes, then, as he showed signs of moving, I took the chance afforded of a broadside shot and bowled him over with the .500 magnum. I tried to reload but the gun jammed. The lion rose, and after looking round for the cause of the interruption, without success, started off at a gallop. With a desperate effort I closed the gun and knocked him over again. He was a fine black-maned lion, and measured as he lay in a straight line from tip to tip 10 ft. 4 in.--a very unusual length.

Another morning, taking an early stroll, I met an old cow hippo and a calf, wandering about far from the river. I accompanied them for some time watching them, but when I caught the youngster by the tail the old lady turned round in answer to its squeals, and opening her mouth to its fullest extent, some 6 ft., gave vent to a terrific roar, which reminded me that it was breakfast-time. On another occasion presumably the same pair strolled past within one hundred yards of our breakfast-table, but they out-distanced the boys who went in pursuit, and plunged into the river, easy winners.

As Sharp had shot a brace of hippo in our pool, we had them dragged out on to the sandbank opposite, and built a grass screen at the lower end of the hippo tunnel which led down through the bush from the high ground above the river. Fortunately, as it afterwards transpired, we took the precaution to block up the top entrance with stones. Here Sharp and I posted ourselves for the night in hopes of lions. When all was quiet, scores of vast crocodiles came out of the pool, and so successfully did they rend and tear the huge carcases that in the morning nothing remained but a few bones. It was a gruesome sight, the great loathsome reptiles tearing vast blocks of hide like brown paper, then crawling away to digest their morsel, then again advancing to the attack, while a row of hyænas sat silhouetted against the sky on the high bank opposite, or trotted uneasily to and fro, moaning and howling unceasingly, yet fearing to approach the evil mass of reptiles. Crowds of mosquitoes and sandflies added their plaintive song. Suddenly with a mighty rush five hippo dashed down the bank, then, recovering from their alarm, strolled quietly by at five yards, the moonlight gleaming white on their wet backs.

Having heard some lions at sunrise to the east I started in pursuit, and, following along an extensive dry donga that cut through the plain, found some fresh spoor which I lost in the endless sea of dry long grass that covered the greater part of the plain. This I fired, and then came round by the river, hoping to see some of them if they were driven from their cover. When nearly home I saw a lion stand up in the low scrub about a thousand yards away. He had our wind, and started across the bare plain at a gallop, making for the long grass. I set off in hot pursuit with my gun-boy. When the lion stopped to look I stopped, hoping that he would think I was not following him. Whereupon my boy, who would never learn the trick, sailed gracefully over my shoulder. The lion, apparently taking us for some harmless mountebanks, slackened his pace, and only reached the grass about five hundred yards ahead of me. Rushing in on his tracks, I was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of his mane above the grass, as he crossed a place where the grass was rather shorter than elsewhere. He had turned at right angles from his course, and had ceased to worry himself about me. Following hard, I got a chance at sixty yards, and knocked him over with a shot from the .500 magnum high on the shoulder. Owing to the smoke, the lack of landmarks, and the height of the grass (about 4 ft. 6 in.), I lost his exact whereabouts, and after slipping in another cartridge, walked past him. He suddenly rose at twenty-five yards and charged straight. The incredible rapidity of his onslaught and the cover afforded by the grass rendered aiming impossible. I merely swung the gun on him and dropped him at four yards with a shot in the neck, then hastily retired. After waiting for some time and hearing no sound, I again advanced, this time with the greatest caution. I could soon distinguish his shoulder at ten yards between the grass. Not wishing to damage his skin unnecessarily, I took my small rifle and fired at his shoulder. The shot had hardly struck when he again rose and charged like lightning. Another lucky shot from the second barrel, which entered the old wound, laid him out. His head was within three yards of my feet. Even then he would not die, although unable to rise, and it needed three more shots to finish him. This was the first time I had been charged by a lion, and I was amazed at the incredible rapidity of their movements. My respect for friend lion increased a thousandfold.

The following day was evidently a lion's holiday, for Mahony and I, following the river to where I had dropped a zebra, put up two lionesses out of some scrub. I hit them both with a right and left. Mahony also hit one, which we secured. But the other one crossed the river, making a clean jump of 34 ft., and reached a large patch of long grass where we lost her. The wind dropped, and consequently the grass would not burn. Nor could we follow her spoor. Sharp, crossing the plain to the Umkulumadzi, met a lion and a lioness, and killed the lion with a shot in the neck. On his way home he met another lion, and with a shot at ten yards from the 10-bore removed a bunch of the mane. The lion jumped into a small patch of impassable reed from which he could not be induced to move, so was wisely allowed to stay, as handling a gun inside would have been impossible. This was our grand finale at lion camp, and we again moved to our old spot by the water-hole in the jungle, but without success.

The variation in the Lichtenstein hartebeeste was very remarkable, the type in this jungle being a heavy beast without face markings, the frontal bone very prominent and the white rump indistinct, while near Gorongoza's hills they were smaller, had a white blaze on the forehead, and were without the peculiar frontal prominence, the rump, too, being very white. The nocturnal attentions of the hyænas were most annoying, diabolical peals of laughter in rapid succession making sleep almost impossible. Failing to find buffalo, we again marched up the Pungwe, and to the lagoon where we had started proceedings.

The first morning after losing a splendid eland, in company with Mahony, I met a fretful porcupine taking his morning constitutional. We waited till he walked within five yards and then gave chase. For a time the pace was hot, till I headed him off, and grabbed him, by the long hair on his neck, which promptly gave way (I mean the hair). I was again closing on him, when he suddenly backed, driving one quill through my boot, 1-½ in. through my little toe, and a dozen others into my leg, one through the tendon. One of my boys was badly mangled in a similar manner, and it was only after giving the fretful one a playful tap on the skull that we made him fast. I regret to say that two days afterwards he died.

As the officials of a so-called Gorongoza Development Co., with its headquarters on the Dingi-Dingi, had seized our boys on their way to Fontesvilla with trophies, and ill-used them, we marched to the Pungwe, where I branched off to arrange matters, the others following the river towards Sarmento. I found seven or eight yellow-visaged creatures, a Portuguese-French mixture, who in three years had disposed of a capital of, I believe, some hundreds of thousands of francs, with the stupendous result of an asset comprising about fifty acres of castor oil (one of the most ineradicable weeds of the country). The Governor, who was very polite, told me that he was entitled to levy shooting licences, and after some talk we closed the matter with a payment of £10, which I should advise the shareholders of the Gorongoza Development Co. to keep an eye on, as it is the only return they are ever likely to see. He also told me that he should like a lion hunt, and had even sat up by his fowl-house for that purpose. Not long after we met him, vinously inclined, in Beira--the cheque had been cashed. On the Pungwe we watched some native blacksmiths at work. Several of their tools were very ingenious.

Again we marched north, and striking the Pungwe by Tiga's Kraal, crossed the island and the Dingi-Dingi, and eventually camped at the junction of a broad sandy river with the Urema. Sharp bagged a good buffalo with a 42-inch head the first night; and the following morning we found that a male lion had visited the carcase, but retired before our arrival. We tossed up as to who should sit up that night, and I was unlucky enough to win; unlucky, in that I spent one of the most awful nights it has ever been my lot to endure. Having built a small platform, 6 ft. from the ground, I repaired thither with a thick blanket at sunset. Soon about thirty hyænas appeared, and continued fighting, snarling, and uttering diabolical yells all night; while battalions of mosquitoes refreshed themselves at my expense, biting my knees, even through a camel's-hair blanket and flannel trousers.

At last, about an hour before dawn, I fell asleep, and was awakened at sunrise by a scuffling noise behind me. I turned round, on murder intent, expecting to find a belated hyæna, and beheld, ten yards away, a grand old lion slowly dragging the carcase under the shade of a tree. Still half asleep, I reached for the 10-bore, and killed him with a shot high on the shoulder, and went back to breakfast, feeling thoroughly ashamed of myself. I consider sitting up over a bait an unpardonable form of murder, if there is the remotest possibility of shooting a beast in fair hunt.

A few days later, when on the way to our camp in the jungle, I overshot the track in some long grass, and spent a terrible day in consequence. I could not be certain that I had crossed it, or if I had crossed, of not doing so again if I returned. The only safe course was to follow some definite direction. I judged the whereabouts of the junction of the Gorongoza plain and the Urema, and went straight ahead through thick and thin. Some of the bush was terrible, and the only way to pass was by climbing along the boughs of the trees above. The experience gave me a clear idea of how people lose themselves irretrievably, as I found it needed a tremendous effort of will to compel myself to go on and on. The temptation to try another direction is almost invincible, and nothing is easier than to lose one's nerves on these occasions. However, I at length emerged, torn and bleeding from head to foot, and throwing myself into the river, regardless of crocodiles, lay there, drinking in the water through every pore. Much refreshed, but with the unpleasant prospect of spending the night there, I climbed up on to the path that runs along the river-bank, and saw to my amazement the spoor of two horses; this I followed up; and half an hour later, as it was getting too dark to see, I caught the glimmer of a fire in the distance. Here I found Mr. H. S. H. Cavendish of Lake Rudolph fame, and Mr. Dodson of the British Museum, who had just arrived on a shooting trip.

After an uncomfortable night in a horse's nose-bag and a cloud of mosquitoes, I hurried to my camp to relieve Sharp's anxiety, meeting a search-party of natives on the road. Next day I returned to Cavendish, to see how the fever from which he was suffering had progressed. During lunch a native rushed in, saying that he had been bitten by a night-adder (one of the most deadly snakes in Africa). I promptly collared him by the arm, stopped the circulation with some string, slit his finger crosswise with my pocket-knife, exploded some gunpowder in the cut, while Dodson administered repeated subcutaneous injections of permanganate of potash. Meanwhile the arm, chest, and left side swelled to the most appalling proportions. Cavendish then appeared on the scene with a bottle of whisky, three parts of which we poured down his throat. Then we told off three strong men to run the patient round the camp till he subsided like a log into a drunken stupor. The following morning he was still alive, but the swelling was enormous, and the colour of his nails indicated incipient gangrene. Not knowing what else to do, we put a pot on the fire, and made a very strong solution of the permanganate which we kept gently simmering, while six stalwart natives forced the unfortunate's hand in and out. His yells were fearful, but the cure was complete. The swelling rapidly subsided, the nails resumed their normal colour, and the following morning, with the exception of the loss of the skin of his hand, he was comparatively well.

A note from Sharp informed me that the Portuguese ruffians of the Gorongoza Development Co. had again raided our camp when he was out shooting, had removed the whole concern, beaten, threatened to shoot, and eventually made prisoners of all our boys.

This considerate proceeding they repeated with Mr. Illingworth's party. Needless to remark, our protests were received by the British Consul with the diplomatic interest due to the subject, a request to formulate them on paper, and an intimation that our trouble would be superfluous, as nothing could be done.

Having heard that another Portuguese official, who was reported to be looking for me, was in the vicinity, I asked him to come to dinner. Whereupon he refrained from arresting me, and asked me to stay with him instead; accordingly I returned with him to his station, and the following morning marched into Fontesvilla and caught the train to Beira, where I found Sharp busy packing and sending off the trophies.

CHAPTER III.

THE ZAMBESI AND SHIRÉ RIVERS.

Though very loath to leave our happy hunting-grounds, we had to tear ourselves away and make preparations for the long march north, so went down to Durban to lay in a few necessaries, an extra .303 in case of accidents, and to obtain the time and rate of our chronometer from the observatory.

On our return to Beira we embarked on the Peters for Chinde, finding as fellow-passengers the Congo Telegraph Expedition under Mr. Mohun--six white men, one hundred Zanzibaris, thirty donkeys, and a few cows, etc.

To our horror, on disembarking the next day, we found that all our heavy luggage, tents, etc., had been put on the wrong boat at Beira, and were on their way to Delagoa Bay. As the telegraph line is generally in a state of collapse, owing to the white ants eating the posts, and to vagaries on the part of the Portuguese or natives, it took some days to inform the agent.

Chinde offers no attractions except to those who are waiting for a home-going boat, so we made up our minds to go on to Chiromo, and have a little shooting till our things turned up, and we could proceed on our journey.

The African Lakes Corporation, to whom we had consigned a splendid full-plate camera, denied any knowledge of it. We afterwards found that it had passed through their hands, and had been stowed on a sunny and rain-swept verandah for three months, with a result that may be imagined. They had also inadvertently overlooked thirty of our cases of provisions, which we found at the last moment in their store.

Having borrowed a tent from Mr. Mohun, and being tired of sardines as a staple article of diet, we made a start up-river, only to find ourselves worse off afloat than we had been ashore, the Company we had the misfortune to travel by having apparently realized how to provide the minimum of comfort with the maximum of charge.

On each side of the steamer a barge was made fast, so progress was not rapid. It was the dry season. The river was very low, and intervals of rest on sandbanks were of frequent occurrence. The banks being very high, one very rarely saw the neighbouring country. No game was ever to be seen, while on the broad river only an occasional native canoe or a gunboat, bustling down-stream, broke the monotony.

Every night the boat tied up to lay in a supply of wood, sometimes near a native village, and occasionally near a sugar plantation; at the latter we were generally given some green vegetables, which were a great boon.

The water is pumped up from the river and distributed by channels over the cane-swamps, and in the time to come, as more of the river-banks are taken up by these Sugar Concessions, this drain on the water will make a considerable difference to navigation in the dry season.

Amongst the legitimate productions of the cane, they here manufacture Scotch whisky, the labels and bottles being imported from the home markets in large quantities. The most important estate is managed by a French company, superintended by ten Europeans (mainly French). The system of irrigation is very complete, and the work of cleaning is done by steam-ploughs, managed, of course, by Scotchmen. Mills are in course of erection, and the bottles, thistle and all complete, will soon be in requisition. Three hundred hectares are already planted, and the Company intend immediately planting five hundred more.

There is another important Sugar Company, owned by the Portuguese and managed by a Scotchman. The output from its extensive plantations during the season, which lasts three months, amounts to one hundred and twenty tons a week.

It is a dreary, hot, monotonous journey.

The river is most uninteresting, of great breadth, with low grass-covered banks and destitute of trees, except near the delta, where there are some thriving cocoanut plantations. The stream is cut up by numerous islands and sandbanks, haunted by vast flocks of geese, pelicans, and flamingoes.

At Senna there are a few miserable huts, and a few yet more miserable Portuguese, and at Songwe there is an Indian settlement, where there is some trade from the interior.

On reaching the Shiré we were transferred to an animated tea-tray, by courtesy called a steamer, which carried us to Chiromo. The food for five Europeans for two and a half days consisted of one ancient duck, three skinny fowls, and a few tins of sardines. There was no bread, butter, milk, or Worcester sauce, without which life, or rather native cookery, is intolerable. Luckily, at the villages on the way we were able to buy fowls, eggs, and tomatoes.

Before reaching Chiromo we put in at the first B.C.A. post, Port Herald, where dusky Napoleons ponder over wild orgies of the past. A broad road planted with shade trees leads up to the collector's house, and cross-roads, similarly planted, give quite a pleasant appearance to the place, backed in the distance by a high mountain.

Chiromo is laid out at the junction of the Ruo and Shiré rivers, while on the north-west side the station is hemmed in by the vast Elephant Marsh, now a closed game preserve, owing to the inconsiderate slaughter in time past. Lions can be heard almost every night, and the day previous to our arrival a lion appeared in the town in broad daylight, and carried off a native. Though the available population turned out to slay, he escaped untouched. Many shots were fired at him from many varieties of guns, and the range varied from five to five hundred yards. But still he wandered round, the least excited individual in the place. Eventually the Nimrod of Chiromo, who arrived late, hurt his feelings by tumbling off a tree on to his back. This was too much, and he majestically stalked off into the Marsh, wondering at the inscrutable ways of men.

Leopard spoor was also a common sight in the street in the morning, while in the Ruo the crocodiles lived an easy life, with unlimited black meat at their command near the bathing-places.

From its position, the town is the inland port of British Central Africa, and with the fast-growing coffee industry will become a place of considerable importance. Already the building plots command a high price, and stands are being eagerly bought up by the African Flotilla Company and Sharrers' Transport Company, who are rapidly ousting the African Lakes Corporation from their position of hitherto unquestioned monopolists. There are also several German traders who display considerable activity, apparently with satisfactory results, and there are rumours of a coffee combination, financed by a prominent German East Coast firm, making their headquarters here.

A large estate on the right bank of the Shiré, called Rosebery Park, is owned by the African Flotilla Company, which makes excellent bricks, and opposite the town a fibre-extracting company has started work. The company has obtained Foulke's patent fibre-cleaning machine, and a concession of the fibre-gathering rights over all Crown lands, and another similar concession in the Portuguese territory.

The plant employed is Sanseveira, of which there are about twenty varieties, the most common in the neighbourhood being S. cylindrica and S. guiniensis; the former, owing to the greater ease with which it can be worked, being the most valuable. The length of leaf is 3 to 6 ft., and the diameter about ¾ in. I found it growing in immense quantities on the plains round Chiperoni.

The treatment is very simple. The green stuff is put over rollers, which take it past a rapidly revolving brush under a strong jet of water. The resulting fibre is then dried in the shade, tied into bundles, and is ready bleached for the market. Consequently the cost of production is very low. The fibre is fine, strong, and clean, and the waste is very small, the proportion of fibre to reed being 4 per cent. The strength is estimated at two and a half times that of the best manilla.

The cost of fuel (wood) to run one engine for a day is only four shillings, and as the fibre needs no cleaning, only one process is necessary.

Mr. H. MacDonald, the Collector and Vice-Consul, royally entertained us at his house, the only cool spot in Chiromo. His method of providing fish for dinner was to fire a round from his .303 into the edge of the river, when one or two fish would rise stunned to the surface.

The climate of the vicinity is very trying to Europeans; the heat is intense, and, being a moist heat, is at times insufferable. We repeatedly registered 115° and 120° in the shade, and owing to the amount of vapour held suspended in the air, there was very little diminution of temperature at night.

Periodical waves of fever prostrate the population when the wind blows from the Elephant Marsh, and the death-rate assumes alarming proportions. A form of Beri-Beri is also prevalent.

Large numbers of natives frequently apply for permission to come over from the Portuguese country and settle in British territory, and the population is thus becoming very dense, and food is easily obtainable in large quantities.

CHAPTER IV.

CHIPERONI.

The Ruo, the main tributary of the Shiré river, which two rivers at their angle of confluence enclose Chiromo (native word, "the joining of the streams"), rises in the Mlanje Hills, whence it flows in two main streams which join about twenty-five miles north of its junction with the Shiré. Ten miles south of this are the beautiful Zoa Falls.

As there was every prospect of having to wait some weeks for the errant loads, we made arrangements for some shooting, having heard great tales of the rhinoceros on Mount Chiperoni, which lies about forty miles east of the Ruo in Portuguese territory. Having been provided with porters by Mr. MacDonald, and obtained a permit from the Portuguese, which entitled us to carry a gun and shoot meat for the pot, we crossed the river and marched up towards Zoa.

The country was exceedingly dry and burnt up: consequently the little game that remained in the vicinity was concentrated near the water. After some hard days' work under an impossible sun, I shot a klipspringer, which, curiously enough, was down in the flat country, and fully twenty miles from the nearest hills. The bristly hairs reminded me of a hedgehog, and came out in great quantities during the process of skinning. These antelopes are exceedingly heavy in the hind quarters, short in the legs, and have the most delicate feet imaginable. We both searched high and low for koodoo, which were reported to be plentiful, but without effect, though I found a couple of worm-eaten heads lying in the bush; and for some days we had no luck with sable, although there was much fresh spoor; but eventually I succeeded in bagging a fair bull. No antelope looks grander than an old bull sable, standing like a statue under some tree, his mighty horns sweeping far back over his shoulders. The bristling mane gives a massive appearance to his shoulders; there is something suggestive of the goat about him, both in his lines and carriage: a giant ibex!

One evening some natives came to camp with a wonderful catch of fish, amongst which I noticed four different species. One was a long, eel-shaped fish with a curious bottle snout, and very small teeth. The eye, entirely covered with skin, was almost invisible. There is a closely allied fish in the Nile. Another one resembled a bream with very large fins. A third resembled a carp with enormous scales, and was very poor eating. While the fourth, which I have never seen elsewhere, and which was unknown to Mr. MacDonald, who is a keen naturalist, resembled a heavily-built carp with large scales and prominent fins, and was of a beautiful green colour.

Sharp having decided to go to the north of Nyassa to arrange transport across the plateau, then returned to Chiromo, and I quickly followed. But a few days later I again crossed into Portuguese territory, and marched east along the telegraph line to M'Serrire on the Liadzi, a tributary of the Shiré.

The following morning, quietly strolling through some dense bush, I saw two grand bull sable browsing on the tender shoots of a massive creeper. I fired at the better of the two, and they both galloped away. It was easy to follow their spoor in the soft, peaty soil, and a quarter of a mile away I came on him lying dead. The shot had passed through both lungs. In the evening, when tubbing, I was beset by bees who come in clouds for the moisture, and after an exciting and one-sided conflict I hurriedly withdrew, dashed in a state of nudity through the astonished village, and sought refuge in a hut. The stings induced a severe fever, and the next two days were spent in bed and indignant meditation.

Hearing that some old Cambridge friends of mine had arrived in Chiromo, I marched in and spent a jovial evening with MacDonald, who was entertaining them.

A new detachment of Sikhs arrived under Lieut. Godfrey. It was splendid to see the contrast between the manners of these magnificent men and those of the local negro. The respect shown to all Englishmen by these gentlemen of gentlemen, coupled with their proud carriage and air of self-respecting-respectful independence, contrasted well with the slouching, coarse insolence of the hideous African.

A naïve individual arrived by the same boat for some official post, and asked whether it was usual to leave cards on the converted natives and their wives. He appeared to be a striking example of the appalling ineptitude of many of the officials chosen for the difficult and serious work they undertake.

Tales of rhinoceros and elephant fired me with the desire to make a trip to Chiperoni, a large mountain mass east of the Ruo; but my ignorance of the language made such an undertaking difficult, so that I wasted some days in endeavouring to find a companion. Preparatory to starting, it was necessary to make friends with the Portuguese official. The usual man was away, and his locum tenens was the captain of the gunboat, which was moored to the bank opposite MacDonald's house.

From previous experience, I had learnt that with Portuguese and natives everything depended on outward appearance; and, as my wardrobe was little calculated to inspire respect, I went round the town and gathered much gorgeous raiment, the finishing touch being supplied by the doctor in the shape of a red-and-white medal ribbon, torn from a pocket pincushion. Resplendent in such gauds, with a heavy riding-whip, spurs (I had noticed that spurs are indispensable to Portuguese polite society, even at sea), and balancing a No. 6 helmet on a No. 8 head, I was rowed across the river in great pomp by the administration boat, midst the blare of trumpets and waving of flags.

The Portuguese officer, a delightful gentleman, received me with open arms, placed the whole country and all that was therein at my disposal, and gave me a "Viesky-soda," insisting on drinking the same thing himself--a stretch of hospitality that was attended with the direst results.

The following morning, having given up all hopes of finding a companion, I collected a dozen raw natives and a Chinyanja dictionary, and on November 10th crossed the Ruo and marched twelve miles to the Liadzi, a parallel stream to the Ruo, and also flowing into the Shiré. Five miles further I forded the Zitembi, another parallel stream of some volume. This I followed up to a village called Gombi (little bank), which is perched on a small cliff at the junction of the Zitembi with a feeder. I had had considerable difficulty in obtaining guides, the natives being very surly, and absolutely refusing any information of the best means of reaching Chiperoni, or of the probability of sport, and at Gombi things reached a climax, the chief telling me that he wanted no white man in his country, that the Portuguese forced them to work for nothing, and demanded a 5 r. hut tax, that my men would obtain no food, etc., etc., ad nauseam. However, seeing that I was not to be trifled with, he changed his tone, and brought me flour and fowls, guides to show me game, and a guide to Chiperoni for the morrow. In the afternoon I took a walk round and shot some meat, seeing plenty of fresh rhino, buffalo, eland, sable, and other buck spoor. The country seemed so promising that I decided, if unsuccessful at Chiperoni, to return for a few days. There was an albino woman in the village; all her children, to the number of five, were also albino, and at several other villages in the vicinity I saw specimens, which would argue a strong hereditary tendency. In many of the villages in the higher valleys there were numerous cases of goitre, some very pronounced, and an extraordinary number of lepers and idiots. This was attributable to the isolating influence of mountainous regions, through difficulty of communication, and the consequent tendency to inbreed. The whole of the next day I followed the Zitembi, till, at its junction with a large feeder, about twenty-four miles from Gombi, there is a village called Chirombo. The stream, which is a series of cascades, and lined with bamboo, is exceedingly beautiful, and, by a reconnaissance on the morrow, I ascertained that it rises on the north of Chiperoni. From here Chiperoni has quite an imposing effect. It is a terraced cone deeply seared by water-courses, and rises from the middle of a basin formed by a circle of less prominent peaks, the most important of which is Makambi to the west. Far away to the north-west were visible the heights of Mlanje, while to the east stretched an unending forest-clad plain that reaches to Mozambique. Woods of mahobahoba (the wild loquat) and many flowering trees covered every rise, and the flat interior of the basin; and the glorious golds, reds, russets, and browns of our autumn, which in these climes beautify the landscape in spring, were at their richest, while a carpet of vivid green and purple flowers lay spread beneath the shade. It was a beautiful country, cool, even at midday, cold at night, free from mosquitoes and flies, and every mile or so an ice-cold stream came tumbling down behind its curtain of ferns and orchids.

Marching round the southern face of Chiperoni for twenty miles, we came to a long ridge or arete which I followed till within 500 ft. of the summit, which is rocky and precipitous, but would offer no difficulty to a man without a load. Here I camped on a small plateau in a glade of mahobahoba. It was a delightful change after the sweltering heat of Chiromo, and I could imagine myself again in Switzerland as I looked out over miles of rolling upland and undulating forest. There were numerous signs of elephant which were feeding on the small sugary loquats, but I failed to find any, though I followed one spoor for many miles. From here we worked round to the east face, till, being short of food, I was obliged to follow one of the numerous streams down to the plain. Here was a considerable but scattered population with a large number of domestic pigeons, pigs, ducks, and cats. The pigs were the ordinary bush-pig, while the pigeons, which were blue rocks, must have been originally introduced by the Portuguese. The stream, which flows into the Misongwe, a tributary of the Shiré, is called the Machingiri, and there are numerous signs of rhino, though few antelopes; however, I managed to bag a good sable. As my boys were following very badly on the paths, I cut straight across to Gombi through the forest, a very long, waterless march, and on arrival found there was not one boy a hundred yards behind; after that I had no further difficulty with them. At Gombi I decided to stop for a few days, and the next morning, after spooring a herd of sable for two hours, I shot a splendid bull.

I had told the chief, who was now most friendly, that I was going to shoot sable, and he came and asked me what I intended to kill the next day, and was much amused when I jokingly replied that I should bring home a rhinoceros.

With this end in view I started early, at 5.30 a.m., and crossing the river, skirted along the foot of the hills, and killed a bull hartebeeste for the Mahomedan boys, who refuse to eat the meat of any beast that has not had its throat cut before death. Although this is a great nuisance (as cutting the throat spoils the head skin), it is right to respect such customs, and I always made a point of killing something else, so that they should not suffer for their belief.

At 7.30 I found fresh rhinoceros spoor which I followed under a blazing sun till 12.30. The country had been very difficult, and I was just beginning to despair when I heard a snort, and looking up, saw the rhino trotting round the corner of an ant-hill, behind which he had been sleeping. On seeing me he stopped, snorting, blowing, and stamping, looking exceedingly nasty. I was carrying my .303, and turning round for my 4-bore, I found that all my boys had bolted up a small thorn tree, from the branch of which they were hanging like a cluster of bees. They had thrown down the gun, and I was compelled to stoop down and grope about for it in the undergrowth. The brute was blowing and snorting only fifteen yards away, and I felt very uncomfortable, as in my position I offered a magnificent target. However, at last I found the gun, and firing past his cheek, hit him full on the edge of the shoulder. Instantly there arose a very hell of sound, squealing, stamping, and crashing of bushes and grass. The smoke hung like a pall around me, and I thought he was charging. Having nowhere to run to, I stayed where I was, and suddenly his huge mass dashed past the edge of the smoke-cloud, and I saw him disappear at a tremendous pace into the grass. We followed hard, but though he bled freely and lay down several times, we did not come up to him again till 3 p.m., when we found him standing at ten yards' distance in a bushy nullah far up in the hills. I fired the 4-bore at his shoulder, knocking him down, but he rose again, and tried to climb the far bank; so I fired the second barrel hurriedly; the cartridge split at the back, and I was knocked over a tree two yards behind. That stopped him, and three solid bullets from the .303 finished him.

I found that the first shot had penetrated about 2 ft., smashing all the shoulder, yet he travelled for two and a half hours, over the steepest hills and through some precipitous water-courses.

In cutting off his head, I found an old iron native bullet in the muscle of his neck.

We were terribly exhausted from the desperate work in a pitiless sun, and hastily grilled a portion of his liver, which was excellent.

A twelve-mile trot brought us back to camp at 7 p.m., and the old chief turned out in state to meet me, and falling upon his knees, rubbed his face in the dust in token of admiration at my powers of prescience.

The natives departed in hundreds there and then to cut up the meat, and arrived early the next morning with the head intact; twenty boys carried it slung on a pole. Skinning it was a fearful business, and occupied me till dark; toil that I have much regretted, since I find that the skull, skin, and many other trophies and curios have been unfortunately lost in transit.

The old chief again came to me and asked me what I was going to kill. I suggested eland for a change; and knowing that there were several herds near where I had killed the rhinoceros, I set off in that direction, my local guides carefully placing a bunch of leaves under a bush on the left-hand side of the path. This, they informed me, ensured success.

The country was full of splendid hunting-grounds; the young grass was sprouting from the black, peaty soil, and the new foliage of the trees afforded grateful shade, beneath which one could walk for hours without encountering any undergrowth.

The spoor of buffalo, rhinoceros, sable, and hartebeeste was plentiful, but nothing would satisfy me except eland, and it was not till midday that I found tracks fresh enough to follow. A six-mile burst brought me in sight of a herd of twenty, and I was creeping round under cover of some trees to obtain a good shot at the leading bull when a boy, who had followed me from the village, let off a dozen ear-piercing whistles to inform me that he too had seen them. Away dashed the eland, and any one who has once followed alarmed eland does not eagerly repeat the mistake. They usually keep up a steady trot till they are clear of the obnoxious neighbourhood, and when they do stand are so wary that approach is impossible. The offending native was an ordinary type of the creatures depicted in books as wonderful hunters and trackers. Personally I have never found a native of Africa who was anything but an abominable nuisance out hunting; and after many trials I strictly confined my hunting attendants to one or two gun-bearers whom I trained to act instantly on a definite set of signs, and never used them for any purpose, except to occasionally follow obvious spoor when I wanted to rest my eyes; even then they needed watching, or they would go wrong. The Bushmen are, of course, an exception to this rule.

On my way back to camp I was startled by a deafening report and the shriek of a bullet past my head. The boy who was carrying my 4-bore had slipped the safety-bolt back, and the trigger had caught in a twig. He was, of course, carrying the gun loosely on his shoulder, and the effect of the explosion of fourteen drams of powder was terrific. It knocked him several feet off the path and stunned him, while the gun described a graceful parabola, and landed, muzzle downwards, on a patch of soft soil, fortunately escaping damage.

A messenger arrived in the evening with a note to the effect that the stray baggage had arrived, and the following day I returned to Chiromo after a most enjoyable trip.

CHAPTER V.

BRITISH CENTRAL AFRICA AND LAKE NYASSA.

At last, on November 28th, I left Chiromo and started up the river once more in the good ship Scott, and again realized the feelings of a pea on a drum. Fortunately the skipper was so ill with fever that we took charge of the boat ourselves, and thus contrived to have something to eat.

We had lost six valuable weeks through our kit having been put on the wrong boat at Beira, and as Mohun's expedition had gone on in front we lost eventually six weeks more, through the transport on the Tanganyika plateau being temporarily demoralized. Thus the carelessness of our agent delayed us in all three months. Such is African travel. I no longer fret when my train is ten minutes late. Even after this wait some of our things never turned up at all. Mr. Commissioner Alfred Sharpe, C.B., the greatest and most reticent of African Nimrods, was on board, but we tried in vain to induce him to tell us some of his experiences. However, he gave me a piece of advice that afterwards stood me in good stead: that, when charged by an elephant, the safest course was to remain quite still till the brute was within four yards, and then to blaze in his face. This almost invariably turns the brute or makes him swerve; my experience has certainly proved its efficacy. Mr. Sharpe has the reputation of being the hardest and most daring shikari who ever followed an elephant; and many amusing tales are current of how in the excitement of the chase he would charge cow elephants to make them get out of his way, in order that he might obtain his shot at the leading bull. In view of the success that attends many of the imaginative literary efforts of missionaries and week-end tourists on the subject of Africa, it is a great pity that the few men like Alfred Sharpe and Lawley of Beira railway fame, who have had gigantic experience of Africa past and present, resolutely refuse to record their invaluable data in a book. Sir Harry Johnston and Selous have set an admirable example, and if a few more men of their stamp would write, much of the misleading balderdash that now passes current as representing the Dark Continent would be happily crushed out of existence.

I was compelled to stoop down and grope.

A slight mishap with the machinery delayed us for several hours, and it was not till noon the following day that we reached Makwira's village. Young Makwira, who is quite the young gentleman, in knickers, stockings, spats, collar, and hard hat, provided us with whiskies and milk, and discussed local politics, displaying no little acumen. I believe that it was his father who used to be a terror to all travellers on the Shiré, and that but a few years ago, when the elephant still roamed in thousands on the Elephant Marsh, undisturbed by the shrill whistle of the stern-wheeler or the bark of the playful 4-bore. It was either old Makwira or another genial darky in the vicinity, who for some time kept a tame Portuguese band, and utilized the bandsmen when off duty as machila-carriers.[#]

[#] Machila: Portuguese word acclimatized; a hammock slung to a pole and carried by a team of men.

The Elephant Marsh is a large tract of country lying on the left bank of the Shiré river, north of Chiromo. In days gone by it teemed with elephant, buffalo, and game of all descriptions; but the persistent gunner soon drove the elephant away and decimated the other beasts. And it was due, I believe, to Sir Harry Johnston that it was made into a game reserve. The effect has been most beneficial. Herds of waterbuck and buffalo come to the banks of the river, and lazily watch the steamers pass; and even elephant have been occasionally seen of late playing in their old haunts. A more suitable spot for a reserve could not have been selected. The Shiré and Ruo rivers to the south-west and east, and the highlands to the north, form natural boundaries; there is plenty of water and ample grazing at all times of the year. Every night one may hear the lions roaring. By legislative foresight a game paradise has been saved in the midst of one of the busiest and most progressive of our African possessions.

At Makwira's we reluctantly bade farewell to Mr. H. C. MacDonald, whose dry humour and all-embracing hospitality had made my weary sojourn in Chiromo one of the most delightful stages in our journey. The company on the steamer was rather embarrassed by the extravaganzas of an evangelical madman, who had arrived in the country in a state of destitution, and who is probably by now, under the title D.B.S., a burden on the community. Such men should be caged, or at least prevented from running loose amongst the natives, and adding to the already well-nigh insuperable difficulties of the administration.

A few hours' run brought us to Katunga's, the African Lakes Corporation's port for Blantyre. The Government station is a little distance further up the river. The crocodiles, which were very numerous, had been causing much mortality amongst the natives; one had even seized the station's bucket, which, for greater safety, was lowered into the river to draw water from the end of a long pole.

The Government station is the highest navigable point of the river south of the rapids, and everything has to be unshipped and carried round to the upper river by native porters or wagons. From Katunga's to Blantyre there is a well-constructed road, with a half-way house belonging to the African Lakes Corporation. Captain Rhoades, of the B.C.A. navy, accompanied me in a mule-cart, and we arrived at Blantyre, the commercial centre of B.C.A., about sunset. The road quickly mounts from the Shiré valley on to the plateau of the highlands. Looking back over the valley from the edge of the plateau the view is superb; and much of the scenery through which the road passes is very beautiful. Most of the highlands are covered with woods, which at that season were in the full glory of their vernal tints; the grass was springing up green, and carpeted with millions of beautiful purple flowers resembling crocuses. There were many specimens of the mahobahoba tree, or wild loquat: the timber of this tree is much prized for telegraph poles and similar uses; and the broad dark-green leaves are exceedingly handsome. We passed several comfortable-looking homesteads belonging to coffee-planters, and the fields of neatly-planted coffee-shrubs staggering under their burden of snowy blossom made me fancy that I was back in the fruit-farms of Kent.

Coffee is the great industry of British Central Africa, and one that is likely to bring the little protectorate into the vanguard of our new possessions in the near future. The quality is second to none; some of the crops have realized the highest price on the London markets. At present the industry is more or less paralyzed, owing to the majority of the planters having started operations on borrowed capital, and, with one or two exceptions, without previous experience of coffee. But as soon as the plantations are put on a sound business footing the prosperity of the community should be assured, always provided that the administration, by judicious legislation as to rate of pay for labourers, prevents the labour market from being spoilt. The present rate of pay is three shillings a month, and a rise must be prevented at all costs. The labour supply, properly handled, should prove well-nigh inexhaustible, and, owing to the immigration from the Portuguese sphere, is steadily increasing. I was informed by many men that the first crop should pay the expenses of the first three years during which there is no yield. This is a magnificent return, and by judicious combines, capitalization, and concentration, Nyassa coffee should become an important industry. The coffee being of such quality, is only used for blending at present, so that there is little chance of over-production. It is one of the few African countries that has natural easy communication with the coast, and when a light railway has been built, and shipping and agency have been properly organized, the cost of transport will be very small. There is also undoubtedly great scope for subsidiary and supplementary industries, such as cocoa and rubber.

I consider that in British Central Africa there is an excellent opening for British capital--an opening that appears to be as yet practically unknown at home. The fact is that Africa is supinely neglected where it cannot flaunt the magic war-cry, Gold. The Germans, who are ever on the alert, are already alive to its possibilities, and there were rumours of a great coffee combine financed by well-known German East Coast capitalists. It is to be hoped that England will awake to the chance before the ground has been cut from under her feet, as has already been done in so many places that I have visited. The wily Teuton is very much alive to the advantages afforded by British rule, and has already levied heavy toll on the budding possibilities of trade in our African dominions. Our trouble is that, with few exceptions, we do not send out the right men, but consider that any one is good enough for Africa. This is far from being the case, as new business lines have to be adopted to ensure success. Adaptability and enterprise belong to genius and not to mediocrity, and no country requires a more delicately-adjusted combination of dash, tact, and perseverance than Africa.

There is a passable hotel in Blantyre, and many fine buildings in brick. The missionaries have built a large church, and laid out avenues of eucalyptus which have grown wonderfully well. Unfortunately, as in Rhodesia, the white ants attack the roots when the trees attain a certain height. Extensive plantations would unquestionably considerably modify the climate, which is far from good. The worst type of hæmoglobinuric fever is very prevalent, and the death-rate is consequently high. However, as more and more land is brought under cultivation, the country should become healthier. Probably much of the fever that prevails is brought from the lowlands, which must be traversed before arriving in the higher altitudes: an improved service with the coast will obviate this to some extent. At Blantyre I met with much kindness at the hands of Mr. Codrington, the Commissioner of Northern Rhodesia, Major Harding, C.M.G., who had been recruiting Angonis for the B.S.A. Police, and Mr. Wilson of the Trans-Continental Telegraph, an old school and Cambridge friend, whom I was much surprised to find in this out-of-the-way corner of the world. Three days later I left with Mr. Hall of the African Flotilla Company in machilas for Zomba, the administrative capital. We were to spend the night at the Nomasi river, which we reached in a torrential downpour. Our delight, when we discovered that the transport people had sent our tents and provisions by the wrong road, may be imagined. Fortunately we learned that Mr. Harrison, whom we had met on the river, was camped in the vicinity, and he kindly provided us with a shakedown and something to eat. The following day we reached Zomba, having passed through many flourishing coffee estates. Here Mr. C. C. Bowring put us up and plied us with all the obtainable luxuries and comforts, in the intervals of a fight to the death with a swarm of irate bees who had taken possession of the interior of the wall of his house. The view across Lake Shirwa and the forests that clothe the flat plains which surround the lake ranks amongst the finest that I have seen in Africa. Vast purple masses of hills enclose the placid lake and its forest-clad plains, and the eye roams on over an infinity of broken upland and shimmering haze. The Government House is a large picturesque building standing in the midst of a well-planted tropical garden, which had, however, been lately ravaged by a flight of locusts. There was tennis accompanied by a tea-party, presided over by Miss Harrison, who has nursed many a sick man back to life, and it seemed as if I had suddenly dropped back into civilized England. After two pleasant days spent in these unwonted surroundings, I started in a machila for Liwonde on the Upper Shiré, where I arrived at sunset, and was entertained by Mr. Drummond Hay, an old "Herzog" friend. I am much shocked to hear that he has since fallen a victim to the climate.

From Liwonde the S.S. Monteith took me to Fort Johnston, which is the port of Lake Nyassa, and is situated a few miles south of the bar at the outlet of the lake. A short distance from Fort Johnston the river opens out and forms the small lake Pamalomba, formerly a great haunt of elephant. The lake is very shallow, and as the steamer passes along, the disturbed mud emits enormous volumes of marsh gas: so great is the quantity that the water has the appearance of violently boiling. There have been several instances of men being blown out of their cabins, owing to their having ignited the gas by absent-mindedly striking a match. When Sharp passed with Mr. Mohun, somebody threw a lighted match overboard. Instantly a sheet of flame passed over the barge that was being towed alongside, and two saddles were seriously burnt.

As we arrived at Fort Johnston late in the evening, I elected to sleep on board, and was much gratified to find that two couples of married German missionaries, not content with having monopolized the only two cabins, had rigged up a large canvas enclosure and were sleeping on deck. Consequently, I was compelled to place my blankets by the wheel and sleep in the wind and dew.

Mr. Wallis, the Vice-Consul, entertained me. He has laid the new town out most admirably, and I could scarcely believe that it had all been done in a few months. The place was alive with rats, who amused themselves all night by tobogganing down my face, rushing along my body, and taking flying leaps from my feet into outer darkness.

Commander Cullen took me over H.M.S. Gwendoline, the large new gunboat that had just been launched for patrolling the lake. It is a splendid work to have accomplished, when the difficulties of transporting some of the heavy portions round the rapids are taken into consideration. I was also introduced to a budding diplomatist, who informed me with pride that he had fired a soft-nosed bullet at an elephant at one thousand yards. The elephant escaped.

On December 15th I started on the voyage up the lake in the S.S. Domira, and at midday made Monkey Bay. It is a most beautiful little spot, and reminded me forcibly of the South Sea Islands. Bold rocky headlands plunge into the lake and enclose a white strip of sand with straggling villages at the back. The water is clear as crystal, and broken by the heads of hundreds of natives diving, swimming, and splashing about. Ringing peals of laughter echo in the rocks and startle the troops of baboons that sit watching with curious eyes the trim little steamer. Picturesque groups of natives are scattered about the beach, and the little picaninnies are playing on the skeleton of a wrecked Arab dhow, little dreaming what that dhow had meant to their fathers a few years before. In the afternoon I strolled out, hoping to get a shoot at koodoo, for which the place is famous. But the koodoo were not at home; however, I saw several impala, and shot a small buck which I believe to have been the duiker described by Sir Alfred Sharpe as a probable new species. Unfortunately, my natives devoured the skull and the rats ate the skin. It was a small, reddish-brown buck, similar in build to a klipspringer, with wiry hair and thick, high-standing hind quarters.

The next wooding station was Domira Bay, and on the 17th we arrived at Kota-Kota, which used to be the headquarters of the Arab slave traffic across the lake, and the starting-point of the Arab raids towards Mweru. Mr. Swann, the collector, who has had many years' experience of Tanganyika in the old Arab days, entertained me, and gave me two Angoni spears which had been taken in the Mpeseni trouble. There are several missionaries at Kota-Kota. They have started football, and in a rash moment I was induced to play--a freak which I regretted for many days afterwards, as it brought on a sharp attack of fever.

Kota-Kota is exceedingly beautiful, as indeed is all the coast of Lake Nyassa. The hills are heavily wooded, and their bases are broken by the waves into fantastic caves and rocky promontories against which plays the white line of surf. Small rocky islands stand out here and there, and form the resting-place of myriads of cormorants.

Here I first saw the extraordinary "Kungu" fly, which is, I believe, peculiar to Lake Nyassa. They resemble small may-flies, and at certain seasons of the year rise from the water in such stupendous clouds that they blot out the whole horizon. Seen in the distance, they have exactly the appearance of a rainstorm coming across the lake. When they are blown landwards they make every place uninhabitable by the stench which arises from the countless millions that lodge and die on every inch of sheltered ground. I myself have seen them lying a foot deep in a room, and I was told that they are often much worse. The natives sweep them up and make cakes of them. I tasted one, and found it by no means bad. The next morning we reached Bandawe, another important station, where there is a large mission-house with extensive plantations of pineapples and some splendid mango trees. At Nkata Bay, a few miles further up the coast, a native came and begged us to go and see his master, who was very ill. Accordingly we set off in the dark, and found Mr. Broadbridge of the African Trans-Continental Telegraph down with a severe attack of fever; we did what we could for him, and he shortly recovered. After a short stop at Luawi to pick up wood, we steamed into Florence Bay, and at Miss MacCallum's invitation I accompanied her up to the Livingstone Mission at Mount Waller. Mr. Stewart, one of the missionaries, who has been for some time working among the northern Angonis, told me that he had been investigating the history of the Angonis, who are descendants of the Zulus. There were two great treks north of the Zulus in the time of Chaka. One, under Moselikatse, marched to Matabeleland, leaving the ancestors of the present Matabele, and then north across the Zambesi. There they came into conflict with the Barotse, and were driven east, eventually settling in Southern Angoniland of to-day, which lies south-west by west of Lake Nyassa.

The other trek marched north through the Sabi district, leaving the present Shangaans on their way, and then crossed the Zambesi by the Kabrabasa rapids and passed near Lake Rukwa. Here the chief died and the trek split up: one part went north of Tanganyika and settled near the south-west of the Victoria Nyanza, where they were rediscovered by Stanley; another part marched round the northern shore of Lake Nyassa; and yet another returned south and founded Northern Angoniland of to-day.

Dr. Robert and Mrs. Laws treated me with the greatest hospitality; he took me round the mission, and showed me the results of their four years' work since the founding of the station. Dr. Robert Laws was one of the first explorers of Nyassaland, and was in no small way responsible for the checkmating of the Portuguese pretensions to what is now British Central Africa. The station is admirably situated on a plateau surrounded by hills with valleys intervening, and commands extensive views across the lake to Amelia Bay and the Livingstone Mountains, and to the west towards the valley of the Loangwa or Northern Angoniland. There is a large printing-machine which the natives work under the superintendence of Mr. Thomson. Here books and magazines and much work of great merit are produced. The processes of stereotyping and picture-reproducing on zinc are thoroughly understood by the skilled natives. In the workshops are several carpenters, one of whom in a few hours made me a folding camp-chair that accompanied me to Cairo. The farm and the quarry are both managed by natives. Dr. Laws' system is to employ native teaching as much as possible. If ability, whole-hearted earnestness, and hard work can accomplish any good in missionary endeavour, Dr. Laws ought to succeed. Laden with butter and gigantic water-melons, I returned to the boat, and the following day we reached Karonga's, the starting-point for the Stevenson Road.

CHAPTER VI.

KARONGA TO KITUTA ACROSS THE TANGANYIKA PLATEAU.

On arrival at Karonga I was much disappointed to find that Sharp, tired of waiting, had left two days before to try and arrange transport on Tanganyika. As it was the season for sowing their crops, very few carriers were available, and it was evident that I should have to wait some time before I could obtain sufficient men to transport our loads. I commenced operations by repacking all the food-boxes and discarding everything that was not absolutely necessary, as well as the considerable quantity of stuff that had spoilt through being improperly packed. The firm responsible, either as a practical joke or an experiment in the cultivation of fungus, had packed chocolate in paper wrappers and laid them in hay in a leaky wooden box. As a practical joke it was weak, but as a venture in fungi-culture a complete success. In fact, unpacking the boxes reminded me forcibly of the days when, as a youthful disciple of Isaac Walton, I used to dig for worms in the garden manure-heap. A series of remarkable tins of sausages added materially to the excitement of these excavations, one and all having assumed the outward and visible form of a Rugby football; while as to the inward invisible grace, I was careful to throw them down wind, when they exploded on contact with the ground in a manner most satisfactory, to the utter consternation of six Kaffir dogs and a hyæna. They, having followed up the wind of the first (a comparatively mild one), were so overcome by its successors that they clapped their tails between their legs, and, with a dismal howl, fled, convinced of the superiority of the white man, even in what they had hitherto considered the black man's monopoly. Native rumour has it that they are running still.

Having arranged everything and reduced the loads to a minimum, I succumbed to a dose of fever, and spent Christmas Day in bed, on a cup of tea. Dr. Castellote, the medical officer of Mr. Mohun's expedition, was most kind, and when I had sufficiently recovered, we went out together for a few days' shooting on the River Songwe, which, flowing into the extreme north-western point of Lake Nyassa, forms part of the Anglo-German boundary-line.

Before starting, however, I went to a neighbouring village and called for volunteers to accompany us on our long journey north. I informed the people in the guest's resting-place, which is kept apart in every village, that the journey would take many moons; that we should go to Tanganyika, that north of Tanganyika we should find another lake, then mighty mountains that made fire, then another lake, then still mightier mountains so high that the water became as stones; then a fourth lake, out of which flowed a great river which, after several moons, took one to the dwelling-places of the white man--large even as hills--where the white men were even as the sands of the lake-shore; that there we should find the sea--the water without end--and that I would send back in steamers large as villages those who came with me, so that they might return to their homes and tell their brothers of all the wonderful things they had seen. The people were much impressed and evidently considered me a very extra special line in liars. They asked me how I knew what was there--"had I been there to see?" I told them that the white man knew much, and what he did not know he could find in books (showing them one). Then they realized that I must be even a finer liar than they had at first taken me to be. After a little more talking four stalwart Watonga volunteered to come, thinking it a pity not to see more of such a transcendent Ananias. One of them, Makanjira, was a small chief on the lake-shore, and those four men stuck to me through thick and thin, and all arrived safely at Cairo; but I regret to say that I have just heard that one of them, Chacachabo, died during the voyage down the coast. The next day a nude dirty little ruffian came and asked to go too; he, though but a small boy, came through safely, and is now setting up a reputation as a liar on his own account. Later on I obtained twelve more recruits, whom I handed over to Mr. Mohun's sergeant to be drilled: these men, as it will later transpire, deserted en masse a few days north of Ujiji. They were Asiska, and a very unwholesome lot of ruffians.

The doctor and I started off along the lake-shore on a couple of donkeys lent to us by Mr. Mohun. We had much trouble in inducing them to cross a large stream that flows into the lake a few miles north of Karonga, and eventually had to take them bodily by the four legs and throw them in.

At Chikopolo's there is a Government station in charge of a few native police; here we stayed for a day, but finding nothing more interesting than waterbuck and reedbuck, moved north and camped on the Songwe, which is a stream of considerable importance, and navigable for several miles from the lake. I was informed that there was a German post on the northern bank of the river at its junction with the lake, and accordingly went across to pay my respects. On arrival I found that the station was in charge of a Goanese native, who promptly endeavoured to annex my rifle, saying that I had brought it into the country without a permit. I called upon Mirambo, a splendid old Arab who used to be a great man in the country. He entertained me with true Arab courtesy, and loaded my boys with magnificent pine-apples and lemons when I went away. It was pitiable to see the poor old man, who a few years ago had commanded thousands, putting on the faded relics of his greatness to do me honour.

On the way back to camp I came upon an enormous native fishing weir: there were two or three natives wading waist-deep in the water above the weir pulling fish out of the baskets, while down-stream, with nothing but the crazy sticks between, the water was being lashed into foam by the gyrations of scores of huge crocodiles. I shot fourteen in as many minutes, averaging fifteen feet in length. The natives flocked in to express their satisfaction, and actually brought me a present of some fish. There were a few pookoo on the plain. They are most beautiful little antelopes and carry themselves exactly like a waterbuck. The hair is reddish, long, and curly, and the hide (as with all the waterbucks) very tough and thick. It has been obtained by comparatively few sportsmen, as it is only found on the Upper Zambesi, Loangwa, Chambesi, and Mweru district.

On the 13th I moved my camp twelve miles up the river to a village called N'kana. Here the hills close in upon the river, but leave a series of delightful little green glades, most likely places for finding roan antelope, which are numerous in the country. But I was unsuccessful, though there was some spoor about. While crossing one of these small glades, a shout of Njoka (snake) from my gun-bearer made me spring to one side. I found that I had put my foot so close to a sleeping puff-adder that it would have been impossible to have slipped a visiting-card between us. The brute still slept; on, till I crushed the life out of it with an enormous log of wood. It rather scared me, as I was hunting with bare legs. All this country is infested with puff-adders, which are the most dangerous snakes in Africa, as they do not dart away like other snakes, but lie sleeping in the dust till they are trodden upon. They differ from other snakes in that they strike backwards. Later on, near the Chambesi, I actually trod upon one; it struck, but missed me, and turned a back somersault in the air, leaving the ground entirely. After that I always wore gaiters or stockings. I have heard of another instance of a puff-adder springing clear of the ground. This is rendered possible by their habit of striking backwards. The natives complained of the hut tax and of being forbidden to kill game: they said that many had crossed over into the German sphere; but they have all come back in a hurry.

Failing to find roan antelope, I marched back to Chikopolo's across the hills, and was much struck by the number of butterflies in the woods; some of them were very beautiful, but so rapid was their flight that it was exceedingly difficult to catch them. Everywhere there was splendid cattle country, but unfortunately very little cattle. Before the rinderpest the whole of the Songwe valley was black with buffalo; now I do not believe there is a single beast, except in some jungle two days' march to the north, which the natives told me was haunted by a few buffalo and elephants. And only a very few head survive of the countless herds of cattle which were characteristic of the Wankonde. The Wankonde are a very pleasant-mannered, intelligent people, who were saved from absolute extinction at the hands of the Angoni, Watonga, and Arabs by the British occupation of the country. Ethnologically they are extremely interesting: their ethnographical position in the races has not yet been satisfactorily ascertained. Their huts, which are very neat and picturesque, are sometimes square, sometimes round, and worked in a pattern of round knobs of clay stuck in between the rush walls. Many are built on a raised clay foundation with a trench to draw off the rain. The roof is worked in fancy patterns. Their metal work is first-class, in fact the most finished that I have seen on the east side of Africa. They have a fair breed of cattle, goats, and sheep, and grow pineapples, bananas, and pumpkins in profusion. Probably owing to Arab influence their villages are well laid out, and the banana palms are planted in carefully aligned avenues. The Arab influence on their music is obvious. And despite Arab influence they are an exceedingly moral race. Being a peaceful, pastoral, and agricultural people, they fell an easy prey to their warlike neighbours and the slave-raiding Arabs. Lugard speaks of them as having been shot down in the most merciless manner by the Arabs in his time.

The natives informed me that Mr. Mohun and Captain Verhellen, the Belgian officer in command of the telegraph escort, were camped on the Songwe, so I marched back and joined them. They were out for a short hunting-trip, and I found them ignominiously slaughtering a goat for meat, although the whole plain was alive with game. On examining Mr. Mohun's rifle, which he had just bought from a local man of God, I found that the barrel was so badly worn that it was almost possible to insert the whole cartridge at the muzzle. That explained his having fired forty shots without effect. In the evening we strolled out together, and after a very difficult stalk I pulled off a long shot of three hundred yards at a good bull pookoo. Captain Verhellen informed me that he had seen four small grey antelopes, one of which he had wounded and lost. I could not imagine what they could be; so on the following morning turned out with his boy to show me where he had seen them. I had only walked about three miles when I saw one standing in a patch of green grass. It appeared to be a reedbuck of a beautiful bright silver-grey colour. There was a small ant-hill between the buck and me which made stalking easy, and I approached without difficulty to within sixty yards. I was just pressing the trigger when an ordinary reedbuck sprang out at my feet and dashed away with a shrill whistle; this started the grey one, and I only got a running snapshot. The bullet struck it in the stern but failed to stop it, and the second barrel only grazed the side. I galloped wildly in pursuit, but the buck kept on its course for nearly two miles before it stopped. The distance between us was fully four hundred yards, but I had to take the shot, as it was watching me, and was evidently prepared to resume its flight. The bullet struck it far back, and it again galloped away, the second barrel going wide. Fortunately the plain was extensive and the grass in most places short, so that I managed to keep it in view for the next four miles. Then it stood again, near some bushes; I endeavoured to approach under cover of these, but was again spotted, and the weary chase recommenced. The country became more broken, and I lost sight of the brute for some time, but eventually saw it lying down a thousand yards away. I approached to a tree, whence I could see if it moved, and waited in the hope that it would get stiff and allow me to come within certain shooting-range. After waiting half an hour I commenced to stalk it, crawling flat on my stomach; there was a convenient bush within fifty yards of where it was lying, and I made for this. After half an hour's desperate crawl through thorns in a blazing sun, I reached the much-desired spot, and peering cautiously round the edge found, to my infinite disgust, that it had moved on. I searched high and low, but could find no trace, and soon lost the spoor which showed but faintly on the grass. As a last effort I made a circuit of two miles, but returned to where I had lost it without result. Then I sat down, waiting for my boys to arrive with my water-bottle. The pace had been so hot that they were completely lost, and I waited in vain. The fever from which I was still suffering made my thirst intolerable, and I rose with the intention of returning to camp. Then a bright idea struck me, and taking the siren whistle which I carried on my belt, I blew a piercing blast. A rustle! and the buck leapt out of some grass which I imagined would not have covered a mouse, and dashed off. To throw down the whistle was the work of a second, and a quick double-barrel brought the little brute at last to grass. I was more than delighted, and realizing that I had obtained a new species of antelope, as the eyes, lips, horns, and hoofs showed no trace of albinoism, skinned it with loving care, and carried it back to camp. Dr. Sclater of the Zoological Society has kindly described it for me. I called it Thomasina's reedbuck (Cervicapra Thomasinæ) after the lady who is now my wife.

The following day I slew another good bull pookoo, which took more killing than any buck I have ever shot. The pookoo's tenacity of life is proverbial among those who are acquainted with this most beautiful little antelope. They have a curious gland about 4 in. below the head in the side of the neck.

The Wankonde play a curious little musical instrument resembling in conception a zither: the strings (six or seven in number) are stretched on a back of hollow reeds; it is held under the leg when sitting, and fingered like the Maderia machette with the right hand, the strings being stopped with the left. They also play on a bow with a gourd or cocoanut-shell as a sounder, and a species of guitar.

Having received a note to the effect that porters had at last come in, I returned to Karonga to prepare for my final march of two hundred and ten miles west to Tanganyika.

On the way I stopped for a day with Mr. Fox, who was managing the telegraph construction across the plateau. The line was just opened to Karonga from Salisbury, and Mr. Mohun had put up the first telephone seen on Lake Nyassa between Karonga and Mr. Fox's camp. The work of construction up the west coast of Lake Nyassa had been attended with the greatest possible difficulties from the precipitous and densely-wooded nature of the country, and the pestilential climate. These had, however, by superhuman efforts, been overcome in the stipulated time by the handful of men engaged on the work. A wide track, straight as an arrow, up hill, down dale, across abysmal chasms, and through swamps, had been cleared, and iron posts set in iron shoes supported the wire. No one at home can realize the stupendous difficulties that have been overcome. But I from observation know, and take off my hat in awed admiration of that gallant band who, quietly, relentlessly, and without a murmur, have accomplished the seemingly impossible. It stands out in bold relief as a colossal monument of what the Anglo-Saxon can do, and will ever sigh to the African wind the greatness of that master mind which, in spite of the fossilized apathy of the British Government, has raised a British South Africa to be a dominant factor in the world's history of the future. It was instructive to mark the characteristic distinction between Mr. Rhodes' telegraph expedition and the expedition of the King of the Belgians. On the one hand was an unassuming handful of men (without a single armed man), whose very existence might easily have been overlooked by the casual passer-by. Yet behind them lay many hundreds of miles of perfected work which brought the far interior of Africa within a minute of Cape Town; before them stretched an arrow-like clearing to Tanganyika (two hundred miles long), waiting for the transport service to bring poles and wire. Quiet men, rotten with fever, were being carried to and fro--inspecting, measuring, and trenching. Above their base floated a diminutive Union Jack; no pomp, no fuss, not even a bugle; yet all worked like clock-work. On the other hand, a huge camp thundering with the tramp of armed men, uninhabitable from the perpetual blare of bugles, a very wilderness of flags. Gorgeous and fussy Belgians strutting about in uniforms, screaming and gesticulating, with a few sad-visaged Englishmen doing the work--piles and piles of loads--and ever those bugles. It resembled the triumphant march of an army through the land, and the cost must have been appalling. Yet months after they had eventually arrived at Mtowa, nothing had been accomplished. The petty jealousy of the local officials proved an impenetrable barrier, and now if anything has been accomplished, the wire has been merely slung on trees. According to the latest reports, there had been trouble with the natives, and the whole expedition had been broken up, with the loss of most of the plant. There is undoubtedly a quiet something about the Anglo-Saxon that gets there somehow.

Fever overcame me once more, and I was confined to my bed for several days; but at last, on January 24th, I made a start, and marched to Mpata, the first camping-place on the Stevenson Road. The Stevenson Road is a clearing through the bush that covers the greater part of the plateau, and barely deserves the title of road, although in some places a few logs have been thrown across the streams, and the more swampy portions have been trenched.

The second stage brings one to Mkongwés, about twenty-seven miles from Karonga. Chumbu, the next halting-place, is fourteen miles further. The country is very hilly, and the scenery not very attractive. At intervals, intersecting the road, the telegraph clearing sweeps on in its relentless line, looking like a gigantic ride, where one expects every minute to see the white tail of a scared bunny or a gorgeous cock-pheasant bowling along as though on wheels. But one looks in vain; no sign of life breaks that monotonous line stretching away over the far hills till the trees at the side merge together, and it is lost in the far distant horizon.

A very long day's march brought us to Fort Hill, the frontier station of Nyassaland, which is in charge of a few black police. It had been very wet, as the rains had broken, and I was exceedingly thankful to take cover in the substantial house which is in the centre of the stockade. I had a bull-calf with me, and gave it in charge of one of my Askaris, who retaliated in the usual annoying way of natives by coming and asking for some string to lead it by. Asking for string is a common and intangible form of insolence, as they make string from the bark of several kinds of trees, very common all over the country. But this time I scored. I had a large coil of Alpine rope weighing about 20 lbs. I gave him this, and told him on pain of death not to cut it. Then he said, "It did not matter, he would make some." But I was relentless. "He had asked for string, and I never refused a reasonable request." That youth never again asked for string. At Nyala the telegraph people have built a substantial house, which is to be a telegraph station and general depository of material; they have selected an admirable position. A large blood-sucking fly made life rather a burden; they settled so quietly that one never felt them till they had driven a proboscis, like a red-hot bodkin, half an inch into one's neck or face. Amazing downpours every morning added to the joys of life, and for several days I had to live in wet clothes and sleep in wet blankets, while it was almost impossible to start a fire. I had a sou'-wester and an oilskin, but they were of no avail. The rain fell like a wave, and with such force that it splashed up underneath, and one was soon drenched to the neck by capillary attraction. Passing through Mpansa we reached Ikawa on the 31st.

Ikawa is the first station of Northern Charterland, on the Tanganyika Plateau. Mr. Mackinnon, the collector, had gone to the Chambesi district to neutralize the political machinations of a fractious missionary.

Nine miles further on is Fife, the A.L.C. station, and the oldest settlement on the plateau. Mr. McCulloch, who has been in charge for several years, tells some delightful stories about his exciting experiences in the old days of Arab predominance. Two members of Lieut. Schleufer's expedition, which was endeavouring to transport a steamer for the German Government to Lake Tanganyika, were camped outside the walls waiting for porters. They had some heavy loads with them on carts, and had taken seven weeks to make the journey from Karonga. Fife is the half-way house between Nyassa and Tanganyika. From the verandah I looked out with longing eyes over the vast Awemba country that lies at the foot of the plateau. The view was superb, and typical of Africa in its misty uncanniness. Mr. McCulloch has planted splendid gardens, and we revelled in green peas, new potatoes, cabbage, lettuce, and many other European vegetables, all of which grow luxuriantly on these altitudes. In the days of overcrowding not far distant there will be a fine country for European settlement on the Tanganyika Plateau. There is much fever at present, but I think most of it is brought from the low countries. The nights were quite cold, and fires necessary for comfort. Mr. McCulloch has a wonderful knowledge of the native; he is considered as a chief by the large village close to the station, and is much respected by the native chiefs for many miles round. I purchased some beautiful wooden snuff-bottles from the Mambwe people, and some extraordinary ear-plugs which are worn by the women in the lobe of the ear; some of them were 2 in. in diameter.

The Anglo-German Boundary Commission had just completed its task, and the new boundary enclosed many of the large labour centres in the German sphere: some of the chiefs, however, availed themselves of the time limit allowed by proclamation, and came across to British territory. But the Germans, contrary to the terms of the agreement, had posted native police to intercept and terrorize them into remaining. The Germans did not behave very well over the boundary settlement, but insisted on retaining a small strip of territory that fell to their share, but which cut across the Stevenson Road, though they were offered a handsome quid pro quo elsewhere. However, the British collector set to work at once, and in a few days took the road round the obstructing strip.

At Ikomba, another B.S.A. station, I found that Mr. Forbes had gone home, and promptly looted the excellent new potatoes which I found in his garden. On February 9th I reached Mambwe, and from there made a trip down to the Awemba country, which is described in the next chapter. On our return to Mambwe I was laid up with a very severe attack of fever which did not leave me for two months, till I reached the highlands around Kivu. I was delirious for some time, but improved sufficiently to be carried to Kawimbi, a mission station near Abercorn. Mr. and Mrs. May were most kind to me; the station is very pretty, and looks like an English village with its picturesque little cottages and numerous flower-beds. The following morning I was carried on to Abercorn, although the missionaries kindly pressed me to stay, promising to nurse me and make me well. I was sorely tempted, but felt bound to hurry on. At Abercorn I utterly collapsed for several days, and in the intervals of delirium eked out a precarious existence on Worcester sauce and limes. Here I heard a lion story. The hero of the story (also the author) having been told that a leopard was taking toll of the goats, built a platform in a tree and sat up over a goat. Nothing, however, turned up; but in the morning, tired of doing nothing, he fired an arrow at a venture into a patch of grass, and on going to pick it up, found that it had transfixed the heart of a stupendous black-maned lion. Considering the state of my health, I thought this rather unkind. At last I was sufficiently recovered to move once more, and was carried in a machila, under Mr. Boyd's care, to Kituta, the A.L.C. station at the south-eastern extremity of Tanganyika. The first glimpse of those waters, round which so many dark tragedies have been enacted, cheered me considerably. I had realized another ambition, and had arrived at the real starting-point of our Odyssey.

Kituta is a beautiful but pestilential spot, chiefly remarkable for its abominable smells. It is also the scene of another lion story which deserves perpetuation.

There was once a very nervous agent in charge of the station with a particular horror of lions. One of these brutes commenced eating the natives of the village; so the agent barricaded himself in his room and slept with six native watchmen in case of attack. Hearing, or thinking that he heard, the lion prowling round, he fired out of the window and knocked a hole through the administration boat. The following night he again heard sounds and fired, bagging the collector's donkey at the first shot. A certain well-known sportsman, who was hunting in the vicinity, wrote in and congratulated him on shooting his first lion. He rose to the occasion, and now silences all sceptics by producing the letter, and has acquired quite a reputation as a hunter of big game.

While purchasing trade-cloth for the journey north, the carelessness of the British manufacturer was again brought home to me. All the loads contained different lengths, and as the marks had been rubbed off, the operation lasted several hours instead of ten minutes; and they were so badly packed that after a week's knocking about most of them came undone, and the contents were consequently in part spoiled. I wonder when the British exporter will realize the advisability of studying the requirements of his markets. Kituta was at one time the call-place of many Arab caravans, but now it has sunk into insignificance, although there is a flourishing rubber trade in the country, which is paying very handsomely.

CHAPTER VII.

THE CHAMBESI.

On reaching Mambwe I had the good fortune to find Mr. C. R. Palmer, the assistant-collector, on the point of starting for the Chambesi, with the object of waking up one or two of the chiefs who had been tardy in sending in labour. His offer to take me with him, and his glowing description of the game to be found there, were so tempting that next morning I found myself on the march to Tanzuka, a border village of the Mambwe; and on the following day we entered the country of the Awemba, a very powerful tribe apparently of Zulu origin. The difference between these people and the neighbouring Mambwe is as cheese from chalk: whereas the latter are of the ordinary dirty, stunted, cringing or insolent, ill-fed type of Central Africa, the former are of a very striking caste. Among the upper class are some magnificent specimens of the native, tall men of powerful build, with much of the well-bred carriage of the Zulu; their noses are straight and thin cut, their colour bronze; and their hair, which they wear in grotesque tufts down the middle of their head, is the only conspicuous negro characteristic. Many of the young women, with their regular features, beautiful colour, and small, delicate hands and feet, are quite pleasing. Until the advent of the Chartered Co. they led the rollicking life of the old Zulus; herding cattle and depending for the meaner necessaries of life and the replenishing of their harems on the efforts of their neighbours. Far and wide they used to raid even to the Atonga country on the east coast of Tanganyika, and many and wonderful are the tales told of their stupendous forced marches, when the weaker members used to fall out and die from sheer exhaustion. All the chiefs of any standing maintain bands, composed of singers, drummers, and players on the castanets, in which they take great pride. On the approach of any visitors to whom they wish to do honour, the band is sent forward to meet them; the leading part is usually taken by a man who sings the theme, some of them having remarkably fine voices, while the refrain is taken up by other men, playing drums of hollow wood with lizard or snake skin stretched over the apertures, and a chorus of boys rattling pods containing dry seeds; the whole is accompanied by grotesque dancing, the main object of which appeared to be to go as near falling down as possible without actually doing so. The strain, like most African music, plays on about three notes with untiring repetition, and, though rather pleasing at first, palls after the fourth or fifth hour. Should a chief find any singer of unusual power, he promptly removes his eyes to prevent him from going elsewhere, and many men thus mutilated are to be seen in every district. In fact mutilation in various forms appears to be the chief recreation of these autocrats. Mr. Palmer told me of three youths who came in to him without their eyes, which had been removed by their chief, because he thought his people were getting out of hand; so to teach them that he was still master he had selected haphazard these three unfortunates. I also heard of some women who had had their ears, lips, hands, and breasts cut off, and who actually travelled a distance of about sixty miles immediately afterwards to the collector of the district. I myself saw many men who had similarly lost their ears, lips, hands, or privates, and sometimes all these parts.

Mr. Law, the able collector at Abercorn, who is known to the natives by the appellation of the "Just man" (and who, by the way, charged me £25 for my rhino about six hours before I sailed north), when on some punitive expedition in the Awemba country, captured a delightful example of the grim humour of these pleasing gentry. It consisted of a large sable horn rudely adorned and fitted with a mask, into which the patient's head was fitted, his throat having been previously cut with a ferocious-looking knife, chiefly remarkable for its bluntness; the blood spurting forth into the horn rang a bell, a performance that gave general satisfaction, with, I suppose, one exception. Some of their old kraals are veritable fortresses, consisting of an outer ringed palisade banked with clay and loopholed; inside is a deep trench, and again an inner palisade similarly banked and loopholed, with, in many cases, a third palisade containing the chief's huts. The site is invariably selected on the edge of a dense thicket, into which the women and cattle are driven on the advent of strangers; nearly every respectable member of society has a gun imported by Arab traders from the north and Portuguese from the south, and there must be several thousand in the country. Such is the people who have been changed in half a dozen short years from a cruel, murdering, widespread curse into a quiet agricultural fraternity; and by whom? By a mere handful of men with less than a hundred native police, agents of that oppressor of the native, the Chartered Company; and this without fuss and practically without bloodshed. The chief industries of the country are pombe[#]-drinking and the making of bark cloth, which is a strong fibrous textile of a pleasing reddish-brown colour, made by beating out the bark of the fig-tree with little wooden hammers, till of the required thinness. A curious custom prevails here, and one that I have not noticed elsewhere in Africa, of wearing mourning for dead relatives; bands of cloth being tied round the head.

[#] Pombe: an intoxicating drink made from millet.

The following day we arrived at Changala's kraal; he is a large, powerful man, with a face expressive of determination and character. He came out two miles to meet us, carried on the shoulders of one of his men, as is the custom (for the chiefs never walk), with a following of two or three hundred people. He, as in fact did all the Awemba, gave us a very hearty reception. Having amicably settled all outstanding questions with Changala, we visited Makasa, the big man of the country, whose head village lies about twenty-six miles south-east of Changala's. He is a portly old gentleman of unprepossessing countenance, and rather inclined to make trouble--at a distance; however, guessing our intentions, he had made great preparations for our reception. On arrival we found our tents already pitched and grass shelters built above them to keep off the sun; while large crowds of obsequious gentlemen came out to meet us and insisted on carrying in our machilas at a run, a form of attention that would not be appreciated by Accident Insurance Companies. His village, which cannot contain less than five hundred huts, is of the usual Awemba pattern, and is a great centre of the bark-cloth industry.

Tales of rhino and elephant galore raised our hopes to the highest pitch, and after a day's rest we launched forth into the game country--a triangular patch of country that lies at the junction of the Chambesi, and its main tributary the Chosi--camping near Chipiri, the original site of the French mission. Here we got our first glimpse of the Chambesi, which, flowing with a devious course into Lake Bangweolo, is the real source of the Congo. It rises between Mambwe and Abercorn, and at Chipiri is already a river of some size, flowing through a beautiful grass plain clothed with patches of waving spear-grass. The plain, varying in width from a half to five miles, is hemmed in by forest bush and park land, dotted over with innumerable ant-hills, some 30 ft. in height, and is the haunt of countless herds of pookoo, two of which graced our larder shortly after pitching camp.

The next afternoon we moved further down the river to the Mafunso; and our carriers started a rhino on the path, the spoor of which we followed in thick brush. But, getting our wind, he departed with a derisive squeal, and, though I nearly came up with him again, I was compelled to give up the chase by nightfall, and only found camp with considerable difficulty. Still further down the river we camped in a delightful hunting-country, the Chambesi plain lying to our south, the vast plain of the Chosi to our east, and north, just behind the camp, strips of bush alternating with glades and groves of mahobahoba. The bush was ploughed up with rhino spoor, and that afternoon both Palmer and I unsuccessfully followed spoor of the morning. Never having seen roan antelope, I was very anxious to shoot one, and the following day started out with that intention. I found several fresh spoors, but failed to make anything of them, but on my way home I found recent lion tracks. These I followed for about two hours; at times it was very difficult, their soft pads leaving no impression on the carpets of dead leaves in the patches of bush, but I managed by casting round to pick the track up again when at fault, and eventually, hearing a low growl, I caught a glimpse of four yellow bodies disappearing round the end of a bush-covered ant-hill. I ran as fast as possible to the other side and almost into their midst; they had tried the old, old lion tactics of doubling. At sight of me they stood, and I put in a right and left; off they galloped, I in hot pursuit, following, as I thought, the first, who had got a fair shoulder-shot, and not wishing to lose sight of her, because of the thickness of some of the bush. I could just see her bounding round an ant-hill, and was making a desperate spurt to see if she would double, when I rushed round the corner of a bush right on to the top of a tail. I lost no time in skipping to one side; however, she was at her last gasp, gnawing her forepaw and making that peculiar deep gurgle, once heard, never forgotten, the lion's death-groan. I found she was the recipient of the first barrel, and the one I was following, which had dropped for a moment to my second barrel, must have crossed when I lost sight of them behind an ant-hill. Then to my disgust I remembered that I had had a solid bullet in my second barrel in case of an unexpected rhino. I picked up her spoor and followed her all round the country for about three hours, but she was playing the fool with me, and though several times I must have been very near, I never obtained another sight of her. The other two, which were three parts grown, found her after a while, and their spoor led over the top of all the ant-hills, where they had stopped to watch me till I came too close. To judge by the blood, I had hit her too far back, and the solid bullet going right through would make very little impression. This was the second time I had dropped a right and left and lost one, and I was grievously disappointed. The one I killed was a superb lioness with unusually long hair, and she measured 8 ft. 5-½ in., from tip to tip, in the flesh. Owing to the hot, rainy weather I had much difficulty in curing the skin, but eventually made a complete success of it. I made a raised quadrangular frame, upon which I stretched the skin, with a grass roof to keep off the showers; then, in default of any better preservative, I had wood-ash continually rubbed in by relays of men.

Making short afternoon marches and hunting in the morning, we gradually worked down the river to the Chosi junction, then up the Chosi, which is a fine stream about forty yards wide, with a large body of water, till we arrived at Kalungu, a small isolated village, and the only one between Makasa's village and the Chosi. I made a circuit of the plain, waded some swamps, and emerged on a second plain. Here, in the distance, I saw three huge unwieldy monsters slowly threading their way in and out of the numerous ant-hills, till they vanished behind one larger than the rest. I had left my glasses behind, and owing to the slight mirage could not be sure whether they were rhino or hippo. Having loaded the double 4-bore, I hurried forward, creeping from ant-hill to ant-hill, till at last I arrived in a line with the one behind which the brutes were still hidden. Crawling cautiously up, I climbed to the top, the big gun at the present, then peered over while my heart beat the devil's tattoo. There they were, not fifteen yards off, three of them, neither rhino nor hippo, but camp boys, with three loads of wood by their sides, peacefully smoking a hubble-bubble. I looked at them, then back at the sickly grey face of my gun-bearer, his teeth chattering with fright, and then marched into camp, to find that Palmer had shot a splendid roan on the high road.

Turning out early the next morning I struck the spoor of the herd of roan, and after sixteen miles through water ankle-deep, came up with them; but they saw me first, and I only succeeded in dropping a good cow, which stood on an ant-hill to have a last look at me. I had arranged to join Palmer and the boys at Nondo, which lies at the junction of the Mwenda and Chosi, but found that he had gone further up the Mwenda and camped at Chupi, which lies on the border of Luwala, the pièce de résistance of our trip. At Nondo the Chosi forms a wide pool, formerly the abode of numerous hippo till the advent of one of the French priests, who murdered the majority, for the satisfaction, I suppose, of seeing them float down-stream. The same enterprising individual, with other kindred spirits, organized a drive of the herds of pookoo on the plain. Huge fences were built at one end with funnel-shaped openings, where the gallant sportsmen stationed themselves, and, if report speaks true, slaughtered about two hundred. I wonder how many they wounded? By the side of the pool is an enormous pile of old hippo skulls that is regarded with superstitious awe by the natives, and close by is a sacred tree, the burial-place of some old chief, where quite a respectable herd of cattle has accumulated from the native offerings. East of the Chosi there is another Awemba god, who dwells in a thicket decorated by a wonderful collection of horns.

When a big chief dies, they smoke him for a year and then bury him in bark-cloth. The general belief is that his spirit enters into a lion, an animal that they hold in superstitious awe, and refuse to kill.

From Chupi we marched into Luwala, a hitherto unexplored tract of country. During the rains it is under water, and is consequently quite uninhabited, a few natives only camping there for fishing purposes, as the waters begin to leave the plain. On the north and east it is bounded by the Chosi for a distance of about sixty miles, and on the west by a slight ridge covered with bush, through which numerous streams flow and lose themselves in the marshes, eventually draining into the Chosi by the Mwenda.

Unfortunately we were too late in the season, the rains having already broken, and were consequently unable to penetrate far from the west side; even there we were compelled to wade from camp to camp through water from 6 in. to 3 ft. deep. The natives told us that when the rains are drying up, immense numbers of game come out from the bush to feed on the new grass round the rapidly diminishing pools, and that often they could see as many as half a dozen rhino at a time. It is also a favourite haunt of the comparatively few elephant that still roam over this country. On the first day's trek we crossed rhino spoor about four to five hours old, and as Palmer, who was out of form, was unwilling to risk a long chase, I started off in pursuit. After following for about an hour, I passed quite close to a large herd of roan containing three or four magnificent bulls, which stood and watched me at about forty yards. I was sorely tempted, but held to my principle of never leaving a spoor except for something better. For some time the rhino had been travelling very fast, but suddenly the spoor freshened, and from the side of an ant-hill I saw a great pink body in the distance moving slowly through the grass. It is curious how decidedly pink hippo and rhino look at a distance. As there were many large ant-hills about I followed the spoor right out, and coming round the corner of one, suddenly saw him about forty yards off just walking out into the huge bare plain; but the birds, many of which were on his back, saw me and gave the alarm. In turning he gave me my broadside chance, and I fired the 4-bore, burning fourteen drams and throwing a four-ounce spherical ball; then, as he swung round to bolt, I popped in a forward raking second barrel, which quickened his pace considerably. He rushed round in a half-circle to try and get my wind, while I peppered him with .303 solid bullets, which appeared to have about the same effect as hailstones. When he got my wind he stopped short and faced me, then swayed from side to side, staggered, recovered himself, and finally, with a shrill squeal, toppled over, kicking his four fat little legs in the air, and gave up the ghost, or the rhino's equivalent, there being nothing very spectral about these incongruous old survivals of the past. Choleric, dyspeptic, unsociable old fellows with a lordly contempt for, and fixed determination to suppress all such indecent innovations as guns, Cape wagons, and Mombasa railway-trains, they always remind me of those fire-eating, civilian-repressing, cheroot-smoke-belching Bagstocks who frequent Madeira, the Lake of Geneva, and other temperate and economical resorts, and who glare at all newcomers with that peculiar bloodshot ferocity only to be acquired by many years of curry, Bombay duck, and unlimited authority over servile millions. Owing to the difficulty of providing food for the large mob of Mambwe who had accompanied us to see in safety their old masters, the Awemba, the meat was very acceptable. The rhino was a large bull. Being particularly anxious to preserve the head, I took the trouble to cut through the hide all round to be sure of having sufficient neck-skin, and, to avoid any possibility of mistake, I left a boy by the carcase; yet in the evening it arrived in two detachments, having been considerately hacked in two to facilitate carriage.

After floundering about the country for miles and camping on isolated ant-hills, surrounded by sheets of water, and as, owing to the continued rains in the hills, the water was daily rising, we were compelled to retreat north-west. Here we made two more ineffectual efforts to penetrate into the interior. So, cursing the rains, we marched to the Luchewe, the largest of the streams which flow into Luwala, and following its valley, arrived at Kyambi, the mission station of the Pères Blancs. Here, with their usual enterprise and abilities, they have constructed a splendid two-storied building with a large cloister-like verandah, surrounded, as are all their other stations, by a solid, fortified wall; outside they have collected a large village and laid out extensive irrigated gardens well stocked with bananas, limes, lemons, and other fruits. The priests were most charming hosts. Their hospitality is, indeed, famed throughout Central Africa.

From Kyambi we marched straight into Mambwe, where we arrived drenched to the skin; and two days later I was down with an attack of fever which lasted till I reached the highlands of Kivu.

CHAPTER VIII.

TANGANYIKA.

At last, on April 2nd, we sailed from Kituta in the Good News.

Mr. Mohun and a large number of his Zanzibaris were with me. Consequently there was not much room. The Good News was originally the property of an English Mission on the Lake, and when the Mission moved to find healthier quarters, the steamer was sold at a ridiculously low figure to the African Lakes Corporation, although, I believe, the Administration of Northern Rhodesia offered a larger sum. A large hole had been knocked in her bottom and filled up with cement; and the machinery was tied together with string and strips of sardine-tins. Vast cockroaches were in possession, and night was made hideous by their peregrinations; some of them were almost as large as mice, and it was a great strain on one's mosquito-curtain when they climbed up the sides in droves. Mr. Mohun endured them all night, but I, in a very few minutes, gave up the unequal fight and retired on deck.

Our noble captain, who was quite new to the lake, did not know where he was going, nor did he care. His idea of navigating a boat consisted in sleeping in his bunk until the natives told him we had arrived somewhere; even then, he never inquired what the place was. His only anxiety was lest he should oversleep himself and miss a meal.

In the evening we arrived at the Congo Free State post of M'liro, which is at the south-western corner of the lake, a few miles over the Anglo-Congolese boundary.

On board I discovered two of the boys who had gone up with Sharp, and who had been left at Kituta. At Kituta I had given instructions that they were to be sent back; so the following morning, having crossed the lake to a wooding station, on the eastern shore, I turned them off with their pay and cloth to buy food on the road; but one of them, on adventure bent, slipped on board again. During the night, finding the sleeping-places rather limited, he calmly threw a crate containing twenty-eight fowls, belonging to Mr. Mohun, overboard.

On April 4th we recrossed the lake and arrived at the French Mission Station of M'bala. This station is of several years' standing, and the Fathers, who are seven in number, with several lay brothers, have built themselves a substantial and comfortable home. They have also built a magnificent cathedral, capable of holding many hundred devotees. I am afraid it would need a large expenditure of cloth and medals to fill it. There are also elaborate workshops, and the gardens, which are very extensive, are planted with numbers of flourishing fruit trees. The coffee-shrubs were particularly remarkable for their size and yield. On the walls were many gigantic sable heads. The horns of one that I measured were 46-½ in.; while many others were almost as long. All these antelope had been shot in the immediate vicinity by native hunters employed on the mission station. It was here that the record sable head which Mr. Boyd presented to me was obtained; and it is evident that these sable must be the largest in the world. They also had a few rhino horns, which had been shot in the neighbourhood.

They gave us a tremendous dinner, with a bewildering profusion of courses and some luscious kinds of fruit, amongst which the ceil-de-boeuf was particularly soothing; and delicious Algerian wine flowed freely round the festive board. There are two or three white sisters at the station; it was very sad to see how ill they looked.

After dinner, some natives brought in a large catch of fish, amongst which was a splendid kind of white-fleshed salmon. The Fathers informed me that this fish, at that time of the year, runs up the small streams, and jumps up waterfalls of considerable height.

The charming point about these white Fathers is that they never ply one with fantastic accounts of the work which they are doing. When we regretfully took our leave, they presented us with several large baskets of potatoes, tomatoes, pomegranates, and many other fruits and vegetables.

Along this shore there are enormous dug-out canoes, and we were carried to and from the steamer in one very fine specimen, probably 40 ft. in length.

On the run up to M'towa, we encountered a terrific sea, and were for several hours in imminent danger of turning turtle. The wind rushes down the narrow gulleys between the mountains that enclose the lake, and lashes the waters into a very frenzy. The arrival of these squalls is very sudden and impossible to predict; consequently, sailing on Lake Tanganyika is a most dangerous amusement. All the natives were most abominably ill, everything was wet, and the cabin and the captain formed an impossible combination.

Early in the morning the tempest subsided and we made M'towa, which is the chief Congo station on the lake. Here all the officials in the district had collected, having ignominiously fled from the rebels. One gentleman who had retired from a station further up the lake, had thrown all the station ammunition and ivory into the lake, solely on a report that the rebels were within a hundred miles. The rebels, hearing of the action, went to the place and quietly fished up both the ivory and the cartridges, thereby gaining a new lease of life. At M'towa the Belgians had built elaborate defences and had protected all the approaches with barbed wire; and in case the rebels should come they had cut down all the bananas, and were consequently short of food. There were one or two unfortunate Scandinavians in the service, who were being thrown out as pickets. One of these gentlemen came and asked us for some poison, in case he should be caught by the rebels with his totally inadequate force.

This chaotic condition has now lasted for five years, and there appears to be no man capable of grappling with the situation; it seems to me a great pity that they did not allow Commandant Henry, whom I afterwards met on the Nile, to follow up his preliminary successes against the rebels. Had he been given a free hand, in all probability the revolution would have been crushed long since.

Mr. Mohun's expedition was camped on a hill about a mile from the Government station, and they complained of most indifferent treatment at the hands of the local officials. Although they had been ready to start operations for more than six weeks, the officials had failed to provide them with any labour. It was obvious that there was much jealousy and friction between the expedition and the authorities. Fortunately, the King of the Belgians had sent Mr. Mohun a supplementary commission, which would give him the free hand necessary to the successful carrying out of his difficult task.

I was very pleased to again meet Sharp, as we had been separated for nearly three months. He was looking very ill, having only recently been laid up with fever in Ujiji. Dr. Castellote, the medical officer of Mr. Mohun's expedition, and who I am grieved to learn has recently died of fever, hearing of Sharp's sorry plight, crossed the lake and brought him over to the comparatively healthy uplands near M'towa.

Sharp had visited the station of the white Fathers on the east coast of the lake, where we had only put in to obtain wood. He told me that there was an elaborate church of brick with stained-glass windows, where he had attended service. He had been much amused at watching dirty little nigger boys from the village passing in at one door, draped in the usual filthy strip of greasy cloth, and presently emerging from another door clad in scarlet cassocks and lace tippets, waving censers, etc.

Bidding a regretful farewell to our good telegraph friends, and wishing them every luck in their venture, Sharp and I, with a mean temperature of 104°, repaired across the lake to Ujiji.

It was with feelings of curiosity that I looked out for the first time on the one historic spot in Central Africa. A few mango trees and a few white buildings scattered about on the top of the long, gently sloping shore of the lake: such was Ujiji, the meeting-place of Stanley and Livingstone, and the heart of the great slave-raiding ulcer of the past.

After considerable difficulty, we landed all our belongings by means of some unstable dug-out canoes; and having piled them on the beach, left them in charge of our boys, while we rode on donkeys, sent to us by the Greek merchant, through a gruesome array of grinning skulls that still lie scattered about the beach, the last relic of the days of Arab predominance.

We were given beds in an old mission-house which is now tenanted by two Greek traders, who, by their enterprise, richly deserve the success which they are enjoying. The old mission-house is substantially built, and is surrounded by enormous mango and guava trees.

Having fixed up our loads, we crawled up to the Government house to pay our respects to Hauptmann Bethe, the German chief of the station; he is a most delightful specimen of a German officer. He treated us with every kindness and showered the most lavish hospitality upon us. Without his cordial co-operation, we should never have been able to take the route via Kivu, on which we had set our hearts. He strongly advised us to go by the hackneyed route by Tabora and the Victoria Nyanza, the road by which Dècle went from Ujiji to Uganda, and which is the high-road for all the caravans that ply between the Victoria Nyanza and Tabora, and Ujiji and Tabora. He informed us that it would be most risky to take the route which we intended without at least a hundred armed men.

He also told us that the Congolese rebels had sent a deputation to him to tell him that they intended once more to attack the Belgians. They asked whether, in the event of failure, they would be allowed to hand their guns in to him, and to come over and settle in German territory. This is an indication of the natives' feeling towards the Congo Free State Administration.

Unfortunately both Sharp and I were too ill to see much of Ujiji and its interesting people. Many charming old Arabs, clad in gorgeous array, came and paid their respects, and sent us many presents, such as fruit, eggs, and vegetables. It was sad to see these venerable old gentlemen in their then condition, and to think of how, in the good old days gone by, they had held undisputed sway over many, many thousand square miles.

The day after our arrival we lunched with Hauptmann Bethe and his staff. We were plied with the most bewildering succession of drinks; starting with port, then through successive courses of champagne, brandy, beer, Vermouth, and claret, we slowly wended our way, with the temperature 110° in the shade. This diet, the Germans informed us, was absolutely essential to avoid fever. They protested that no teetotaller who had arrived in Ujiji had ever left Ujiji for any other place in this world; and certainly the Germans who were there were living examples of the efficacy of their treatment.

The courtesy, assistance, and confidence which we received in the German sphere shone bright in contrast with much of the treatment which we received under our own flag; and our warmest thanks are due to those whole-hearted Germans who are upholding the honour of the Fatherland on the far distant shore of Tanganyika.

My fever, which had now lasted for more than three weeks, took a decided turn for the worse, and I began to lose the proper control of my hands. Sharp, on the other hand, was slightly better.

We witnessed several dances. It was quite easy to start one, by providing the funds necessary to obtain a considerable quantity of native beer, when the natives would arrive in hundreds in the market-place and perform the wildest and most grotesque dances imaginable. Hauptmann Bethe arranged a most elaborate one for our edification.

At last, on April 12th, we had organized our caravan of one hundred and thirty men, and made a start up the lake. We had been compelled to leave some loads behind, and it was not till four in the afternoon that the last man left the courtyard. We had had no difficulty in recruiting as many men as we wanted, as the Germans afforded us every facility.

We only marched out sufficiently far to get our caravan quite clear of Ujiji; and the Germans kindly sent out a few soldiers to avoid any trouble with the men, the last farewell of the natives being invariably accompanied by much pombe. However, they all turned up, and we got them into some sort of order. I had brought from Nyassa sixteen boys--ten of whom had been drilled for a few days by one of Mr. Mohun's Zanzibari sergeants--two of them were kitchen boys, and the other four gun-bearers and tent-pitchers: this made our caravan one hundred and fifty strong.

Sharp ignored the mosquitoes the first night, and in consequence suffered severely from blood poisoning of the hands. The path led through a fertile country, but as the high grass overhung the narrow track, it was very wet travelling and not conducive to a speedy recovery from fever. The way became gradually worse and we had many sharp rises to face, and many small streams to cross, while satisfactory camping-grounds were hard to find. On the fourth day, after a struggle up an almost perpendicular hill, we camped at an elevation of nearly 6,000 ft., and obtained some lovely views over the country to the east--high, tree-covered hills, with a few native huts and their accompanying gardens in clearings where the ground was not too steep, and, down below, deep valleys covered with dense bush--while to the west we could just catch a glimpse of the lake backed by the rugged and forbidding-looking hills on the Congo side.

A cold white mist came up in the afternoon, and put all thoughts of scenery away, driving us to refuge in tightly-closed tents.

Next day we mounted still higher--about 7,000 ft.--and the scenery amply repaid the exertion. From thence we made a rapid descent by a path so steep and rough that we had to glissade at times with the aid of a strong spear. At the villages here we found the people wearing wooden tweezers on their noses; on inquiry we discovered that they injected snuff mixed with water, and then put the apparatus on to keep the concoction from wasting away at once. A day or two later we reached the lake-shore, and the path, such as it was, came to an end. We now had to make our way along the shingle. The bush overhung the water every few yards, and as it was mostly mimosa, or other equally prickly matter, we had to wade round to avoid it--often up to our middles in the water--while an occasional mountain torrent necessitated our being carried on our boys' shoulders. As the lake was swarming with crocodiles, this was rather exciting. Our Nyassa boys, who had earned the name of the Guinea-fowls, owing to their dress of dark-blue bird's-eye cotton and greeny-blue fezzes, had been a great comfort, pitching our tents and doing all the little odd jobs inseparable from camp life, and we were congratulating ourselves on having some natives of a different race to our Manyema porters.

The heat and continual wetting now began to tell on the fever which we had not been able to shake off, so we hired two big canoes, and putting our deck-chairs in the largest, over which we rigged up an awning, we proceeded by water while our boys plodded through the shingle. On reaching the halting-place after our first day's canoeing, we were horrified to find that our ten Askaris and the cook had bolted, leaving their rifles and bayonets on the path. Though I was bad with fever I got a fresh crew for the big canoe, and made all haste back to our last night's camp. Nothing was to be seen or heard of the fugitives, and though I offered the Sultani (chief) of the village heavy rewards for each captive, we never heard any more of them, but trust that they did not escape their deserts when they reached Ujiji, if the natives on the way let them go free, which is more than doubtful. I had left Sharp to try his 'prentice hand at cooking, and returning wet through, very tired and full of fever, found his attempt at soup had ended in a few bones and a blob of fat at the bottom of the pan! The heat was intense, never a breath of air, and no shade, while the rays of the burning sun were refracted from the face of the water. At every camp one or more of the neighbouring chiefs came to pay his respects, bringing with him a present, according to his standing, of pombe, native beer, bananas, three or four fowls, and in the case of a big "swell," two or three goats or sheep. Each chief was followed by as large a retinue as he could gather, and most of them were dressed in semi-Arab fashion--a long, white shirt or "kanzu," a coloured cloth, and a turban or white head-dress. The natives had many knives of local manufacture, the sheaths of which were ornamented with well-carved patterns, while their spears were very thin and light, and often adorned with brass and copper wire. Of course we had to make return presents of cloth and beads to an equal value. Eggs were rather hard to obtain, and it was still more difficult to make the natives believe that we did not want them for electioneering purposes. My fever was now so bad that I had to depute my baking to Sharp, who was becoming quite a passable cook under my tuition, and retire to bed as soon as I could get my tent pitched. To add to our enjoyment Sharp got a sunstroke and a dose of fever, and we were consequently reduced to the most pitiable plight. My temperature went up to 106.9, and left me too weak to move, while Sharp, ill as he was, made superhuman efforts to look after me. At last, after several days of intolerable misery, we eventually arrived at Usambara, where the German official, Lieutenant von Gravert, took us in hand. Under his care we recovered slightly.

Usambara, with characteristic German thoroughness, has been well laid out. Substantial buildings have been put up, good gardens made, and an immense avenue of pawpaws and bananas planted from the Government House to the lake shore. A small sailing-boat adds materially to the comfort and efficiency of the commanding officer.

Every morning a large market is held, and the natives bring in enormous supplies of fish, bananas, beans, grains of different sort (even rice), and fowls. The German black troops keep splendid order, and the station has the most flourishing air. I am a great believer in the Germans' African methods. Of course they are severely handicapped by having such a poor country to work upon. But their methods are thorough and eminently practical, and not characterized by the stinginess which paralyzes most of our African efforts. The men selected for the work are given a practically free hand, and are not cramped by the ignorant babblings of sentimentalism.

CHAPTER IX.

THE RUSISI VALLEY.

At last, on May 7th, we were sufficiently recovered to move, and bidding farewell to our good friend, Lieutenant von Gravert, we left Usambara and made a short march along the lake shore to Kijaga, a deserted Government station near the most easterly mouth of the Rusisi.

Being still much too weak to walk, I was carried in a hammock slung from a pole by a team of twelve natives of Usige kindly recruited for me by Lieutenant von Gravert, who were to take me to Dr. Kandt's headquarters on Kivu, where the climate of the highlands, it was hoped, would render me sufficiently strong to continue my journey on foot.

After the trained "machila" teams of Nyassaland they were very crude, and many amusing incidents arose from their inexperience. However, they were willing, and served me very well.

The northern shore of the lake is flat and sandy, and for a long distance from land the water is very shallow; even at a distance of two miles hippopotami could walk on the bottom with their heads above water. The natives are great fishermen, and own many dug-out canoes; they fish mainly at night. There was little moon at the time, and we could see scores of canoes punting about, each with a great flaming torch in the bows, and the fishermen with poised spears eagerly scanning the water. The effect of the number of dimly-defined canoes gliding to and fro on the oily water, of the strong reflection of the flaming torches, and of the phosphorescent wash was most picturesque.

The Rusisi, which is the outflow of Lake Kivu, falls into Lake Tanganyika through five mouths, four of which are close together slightly to the east of the centre of the northern shore, while the fifth is on the extreme western point under the gigantic hills that line the western shore. The enclosed deltas are very flat and swampy, and in part covered with forest, the haunt of many elephant, a large portion of which are said by the Arabs to be tuskless.

During many weary days of sickness at Usambara, I had gazed up that mighty valley, the vast flat gently merging into endless vistas of purple hills, behind winch lay the mysterious waters of Kivu and the giant volcanoes (the pulse of Africa), flanked by two massive walls of mountains--the path that led to the yet unknown, the first real stage of the task that we had set ourselves! And for long it seemed as though I had struggled thus far only to die at the very gate. The extraordinary beauty of the scene fascinated me, and with its eddying mists and fading hills, redolent of mystery, it seemed a fitting entry to an unknown land.

At Kijaga we rose to find that our cook and the three boys whom we had engaged at Usambara had bolted in the night, taking with them their month's pay and two months' rations. We immediately sent a note in to Von Gravert, and his police very cleverly caught them two days later, although they tried to go down to Ujiji by a path that leads over the hills at the back of the station. The capture was a very clever one, and reflects great credit on the German administrative organization.

Our cow-boys were a great nuisance; they refused to go near one of the cows which kicked, and they evidently considered that the little milk they succeeded in extracting from the others had been earned by the trouble of extraction, consequently what eventually arrived for us was limited in quantity. A strong protest, backed by mild physical correction, produced a larger quantity, but it was sour, and on inquiry we found that they had drunk our fresh milk, and for a small consideration purchased some sour milk from a neighbouring chief; they foolishly brought it stone cold, ostensibly fresh from the cow. They assured us that all the cows in that country produced sour milk.

For the first fifteen miles the valley is absolutely flat, and deposits of semi-fossilized shells indicate a historically recent upheaval.

There are two streams, the Mpanda and Kazeki, flowing from the east; the former has a considerable volume of water.

The flat, which is about two miles wide, is covered with very short, poor-looking grass, and dotted here and there with magnificent specimens of the candelabra euphorbia, looking in the distance like gigantic cabbages. An occasional palm-tree breaks the desolate monotony, and a very occasional small antelope lends a suggestion of life.

To the west the Rusisi makes a long curve towards the enclosing mountain range, and in places spreads out into swampy lagoons apparently of some extent.

Our carriers had been giving much trouble, lagging behind and not arriving till two or three hours after our arrival, hoping thereby to escape fatigue duties. It was most desirable to have the caravan as compact as possible on the march, in view of possible troubles with the natives.

We allowed them, therefore, half an hour's margin, and every one who arrived after that, without having obtained permission in the morning for sickness or some valid reason, was made to stand with his load on his head in the middle of camp as long as was deemed sufficient for his particular case. We found this much more effectual as a punishment than fines (a system to be deprecated, except in Government stations). The native enjoys his afternoon nap, he likes to stroll into the neighbouring villages, show his best clothes off before the local beauties, and pass the time of day with the village cronies. It jars on him to have to stand doing nothing while he sees his friends chatting and discussing their bananas and the topics of the day. One such punishment usually sufficed for at least a month, and a native must be very much impressed to remember anything for as long as that.

Fifteen miles from Kijaga there is a bunch of large villages. The chief is called Balamata. They are situated on the advance spur of a line of conical peaks which divide the main valley into two sections: the western branch, which trends north-west by north, is the valley of the Rusisi; while the eastern branch, which trends north-east by north, comes from Kirimbi and Imbo. Close to Balamata a small stream flows from the central peaks towards the eastern valley, and as we did not pass any stream of consequence, I imagine that this small stream and the whole of the drainage of the valley loses itself in the swamp which I could plainly see a few miles to the east.

Passing round the western side of Balamata's peaks, we found the country similar to the first stage of the valley, flat and dotted with euphorbia, the mean altitude being slightly higher than the lake level. We passed over two extraordinary ravines dug out of the flat country. One was evidently a dry stream-bed, but the other appeared to have no outlet, and I could find no satisfactory clue to its origin.

The Rusisi here flows under the eastern wall; it is a large body of water flowing through wide expanses of papyrus, and is probably navigable for small steamers to a point forty miles north of the lake.

The population is very scanty. The scattered villages and their cattle-pens are enclosed by artificial hedges of euphorbia.

A large stream, the Kagunozi, flows down from the east a few miles north of Balamata's, and three miles further north is the village of Buvinka, a chief of some importance.

North of Buvinka's, a large stream called the Kabulantwa flows into the Rusisi from the east, which appears to be very broken and mountainous in the distance. We had much difficulty in crossing the stream with our cattle and goats, owing to the power of the current. Several goats were washed away, but with the exception of two, all were eventually rescued by the boys, who were expert swimmers. In places the stream narrowed considerably, forming foaming rapids, and it was splendid to see some of the Manyema shooting down like arrows in pursuit of an old billy-goat, eventually dragging him half drowned on to the bank. Some of the cows refused to enter the water, and had to be forcibly dragged across by ropes.

Opposite the junction of the Kabulantwa and the Rusisi, the western range of hills sends a long spur down into the valley, culminating in a well-defined conical peak, which abuts on the river, and is a splendid landmark for many miles north and south.

The dominant peaks at the back are very striking, and apparently at least 7,000 ft. high; they are very rugged, and in parts heavily wooded.

A few miles north of the Kabulantwa the valley again splits into two; the eastern branch is drained by a small and very rapid stream called the Muhira, which appears to be a highroad for elephant crossing the valley. The western branch is the valley of the Rusisi; it is very flat, and covered with coarse grass with slight thorn-scrub at the sides; part of it is marshy.

We camped in a scattered village of considerable size, thickly planted with bananas. The Rusisi flows close by, cutting its way through a dyke, which crosses the valley. The country here was much more broken, and our camp was about 300 ft. above the lake level.

One or more of the neighbouring Chiefs came to pay his Respects.

The natives have a good supply of cattle, and live in scattered villages of considerable size; they are well set up, with good faces, high foreheads, and not prognathous to a conspicuous degree; they all carry long, slight, spears with small heads, and long sword-knives with elaborately-decorated sheaths. They also use a long-bladed axe with a hook on the end for cutting bananas, the handle of which is also elaborately decorated with iron, copper, and brass. On their arms they wear many wire rings and large wooden bracelets of curious shape.

In the evening I discovered an enormous jigger in my small toe, and one of my Watonga boys skilfully removed it; the bag of eggs was the size of a marrowfat pea, and as there was only the bone and top part of my toe left I was afraid that I should lose it; however, after giving me some trouble, it yielded to the persuasive influence of that panacea for all African ills, permanganate of potash, and healed.

During the night a hyæna grabbed one of the goats, and tore the poor brute so badly that it had to be killed. The following morning, after crossing some very broken country, and fording a deep stream called the Nyamgana, we arrived at the first of the three Soudanese forts, established by the Germans on the Rusisi to prevent raids of the Congolese rebels.

The treaty boundary, between the Congo and German East Africa of 1885, runs from the mouth of the Rusisi to cut the 30th degree east longitude, at a point 1° 20' south of the equator. Hence all these three posts are well within the Congo Free State. The Germans have cleverly availed themselves of the Congolese chaos, and having placed these advance posts for the plausible object of defending their country, by occupying the natural line of defence afforded by the river, are now pleading effective occupation. In the meanwhile Dr. Kandt, under the auspices of the German Government, is investigating the possibilities of the country. On his report the Germans will know whether the country is worth a struggle.

The fort is well placed on a flat-topped hill overhanging the river, which here races along between precipitous rocks, and although it is only in charge of a native officer, it is clean and well kept. The troops are Wanyamwesi, officered by Soudanese.

We camped on the north bank of the Nyakagunda, a large stream flowing from the east; here again a line of rounded hills (a long spur of the mass of hills that hems in the north end of the valley) cuts the valley into two branches. The main or Rusisi branch is still flat and grass-covered, and obviously an old lake-bed; while the eastern branch, down which flows the Nyakagunda, is broken by many small hills.

About an hour before sunset some natives rushed in to say that they had seen elephant close to camp; they said that they were travelling, so that there was not a moment to be lost. To put the 4-bore together was a question of seconds, and hurriedly collecting the few necessaries, and ordering my "machila" team to follow, as I was still very weak, I dashed off in the direction indicated. Sharp had, unfortunately, not yet unpacked any of his 10-bore cartridges, and as every minute was precious at that time of day, it would have been useless to wait.

About two miles from camp we found the elephants; they had stopped, and were standing round a clump of euphorbia. Making a detour to catch the wind, I approached them, 4-bore in hand, and with one boy carrying the .303 behind me. There was absolutely no cover, but, to my astonishment, they took not the slightest notice of me. Gathering confidence from this, I went quite close and inspected them. There were twenty-nine in all, mostly cows, some of which, however, had enormously long, thin tusks. Taking care to avoid any sudden movements which would be likely to attract their attention, I passed to leeward of them, so close to some that I could have touched them with my rifle. The three bulls were at the far end, and I at length made up my mind which one to take. The cartridge missed fire, and at the same moment the middle bull, which had appeared small, lifted his head from behind a small euphorbia and showed a pair of very massive tusks, almost black from use. Inwardly blessing the miss-fire, I went up to within six yards of him, when the one I had left caught a puff of my wind and cocked his ears; that was all he did; he never made a sound of any description, yet the whole twenty-nine (many of which had their backs turned, or were completely hidden by the euphorbia) moved off instantly. As the black-tusked male swung round, I gave him the first barrel on the shoulder, and again the second barrel at nine yards; he dropped on to one knee, but never even lost his stride; the others closed round him, and helped him away, and that was the last I saw or heard of my first elephant. I was too weak to follow far, and the next morning I sent out some of our boys with local natives, but they never found him. When hunting elephant and other game, the extraordinary ease with which they pass on the danger-signal has often made me wonder whether they have another sense, which we, by disuse, have practically lost. Perhaps even with us it survives in a rudimentary form, causing the inexplicable phenomena of second sight, mesmerism, etc., etc.

The next morning we followed the eastern branch, and passing many steep hills, crossed a pass 5,500 ft. high, and again descended into the main valley. Numerous small streams intersected the hills, and at each ford clouds of gorgeous butterflies enlivened the scene, attracted apparently by the moisture. On the way we crossed many fresh tracks of elephant, and on the western slope of the valley a large herd had followed the track in the early morning. At the base of the slope we had much difficulty in fording a deep and rapid river, called the Kasilo; several goats and a calf were washed away, and the rest were only saved by the brilliant swimming of the Watonga contingent. Thence two hours' hard travelling brought us to the second German Soudanese fort, situated on a small hill overlooking the Rusisi, where it issues from its broken course through the mountains which dam the south end of Lake Kivu, preparatory to its seventy-five-mile run through the flat valley bed to Lake Tanganyika.

The Soudanese officer in command was most courteous and personally presented all the local potentates, who brought us supplies of bananas, flour, and goats. He also promised to try and trace my lost elephant, but said that if, as was most probable, it had crossed the river it would be impossible to recover ivory from the obstreperous chiefs in the Congo Free State. Here, as during the whole of our journey from Tanganyika, the mosquitoes were appalling; colossal of stature, they arrived in myriads at sunset, and continued their plaintive wail till the cool hour before dawn.

On the morrow we left the Rusisi once more, and passed to the east of many striking conical hills along the flat plain of the Kasilo (which obviously in remote ages was the course of the outlet of Lake Kivu), for a distance of four miles, crossing several small tributaries of the Kasilo on our way. We turned west, and climbing the high plateau through which the Rusisi has now forced its way, camped on a high ridge 2,000 ft. above the plain. There were numerous villages and large herds of cattle, which at night are enclosed in pens strongly stockaded. Here we had entered the terrible Ruanda country, and the paramount chief of the district, Ngenzi, the most powerful satrap of the King of Ruanda, came and paid his respects. From his pleasant manner we little guessed what a source of trouble he was to prove in the near future. Small boys followed us on the march with huge wooden utensils filled with fresh milk, and our welcome was most cordial. Forests of bananas stretched far as the eye could reach to the north, east, and west, and vast fields of peas and beans bore witness to the fertility and prosperity of the country.

To the south lay the mighty valley of the Rusisi, stretching away between its enclosing walls of hills, till, in the far distance, gleamed the waters of Tanganyika.

Bidding a last farewell to those historic waters, we plunged into the wild turmoil of hills which surround Kivu, and after a six hours' tramp, accompanied on the way by Ngenzi and his hundred followers (not forgetting the inevitable cup-bearer with his gourd of pombe and the regal sucking-straw), climbed on to a ridge from which we saw the waters of Kivu lying at our feet.

The mighty sheet of water, dotted with a hundred isles and hemmed in by a thousand imposing hills, was of surpassing beauty; the only one of the vast lakes of Central Africa which had not been first gazed upon by British eyes.

CHAPTER X.

LAKE KIVU.

An abrupt descent led us through many straggling villages and endless banana plantations to the German Soudanese post on the extreme south-west point of the lake.

We camped on a small rise opposite the Government stockade and overlooking the lake; the outlet is a long, thin arm, narrowing to where the Rusisi tumbles over the first cascades, and starts on its broken course through the hills to the point whence it finally issues on its long, long journey by Tanganyika to the sea. The body of water leaving the lake is small, but, with the numerous tributaries from east and west, soon swells to a considerable size; and forty miles from Tanganyika it is of about the same volume as the Thames at Richmond.

The south-western extremity of Kivu is really a small lake in itself, separated as it is from the main body of the lake by a narrow neck, which is again almost blocked by a network of islands.

On all sides long straggling promontories jut out into the water, cutting the coast-line into a multitude of lochs and bays.

They are the spurs of the wild groups of hills which enclose Kivu on the east, south, and west sides, and which, ever increasing in height as they recede from the lake-shore, eventually culminate in the mighty peaks which crown the enclosing walls of this vast Rift Valley, in which Tanganyika, Kivu, the Albert Edward, and the Albert Lakes are but residuary pools.

Miles and miles of banana plantations clothe the lower hills, and vast fields of peas give a touch of green to the purples, reds, and yellows of the luxuriant pastures. There are no trees in all the Kivu region nearer than the summits of the distant peaks and the slopes of the volcanoes, with the exception of a very occasional solitary tree on the extreme summit of some of the conspicuous hills. These latter are left untouched, despite the value of wood, and would appear to be held in reverential awe; they form conspicuous landmarks, which may be the primary cause of the superstitions that attach to them. Their existence points to the country having been at one time more or less wooded; and the trees which served no essential purpose have fallen before the requirements of the enormous population.

This same enormous population, and the pervading air of prosperity, are a striking indication of the possibilities of native races left to work out their own destiny.

The far-famed unity and power of the Ruanda people have deterred the Arabs from making slave-raids into their country, and with the exception of one or two Belgian looting expeditions, which fortunately met with no success, they have been left in peace.

All the southern and eastern coast-line drops abruptly into the lake, and there is no beach or marshland such as are found on the other lakes of Central Africa, but the feeding-streams, at their junction with the lake, become papyrus swamps.

There were only ten soldiers in the fort, and they rolled in the lap of luxury, calmly relieving the neighbouring population of what they (the soldiers) considered superfluities, such as goats, sheep, fowls, etc. This is the invariable result of placing natives in a post of responsibility without constant supervision.

As to their duties, they had none; and it was patent that the sole raison d'être of these posts was to be able on the day of reckoning to show a definite asset, a claim to effective occupation--in fine, a fulfilment of the duties imposed upon European powers by the Berlin Conference.