"Great and good news truly, my friend."
"Yes-in the name of G.o.d."
"And whither art thou bound with thy caravan?"
"Sayd, the son of Majid, who came from Ujiji, hath told us of the road that the white man took, that he had arrived at Ujiji safely, and that he was on his way back to Unyanyembe. So we have thought that if the white man could go there, we could also. Lo, the Arabs come by the hundred by the white man"s road, to get the ivory from Ujiji.
"I am that white man."
"You?"
"Yes."
"Why it was reported that you were dead--that you fought with the Wazavira."
"Ah, my friend, these are the words of Njara, the son of Khamis. See"
(pointing to Livingstone), "this is the white man, my father *, whom I saw at Ujiji. He is going with me to Unyanyembe to get his cloth, after which he will return to the great waters."
* It is a courteous custom in Africa to address elderly people as "Baba," (Father.)
"Wonderful!--thou sayest truly."
"What has thou to tell me of the white man at Unyanyembe?"
"Which white man?"
"The white man I left in the house of Sayd, the son of Salim--my house--at Kwihara."
"He is dead."
"Dead!"
"True."
"You do not mean to say the white man is dead?"
"True--he is dead."
"How long ago?"
"Many months now."
"What did he die of?"
"Homa (fever)."
"Any more of my people dead?"
"I know not."
"Enough." I looked sympathetically at the Doctor, and he replied,
"I told you so. When you described him to me as a drunken man, I knew he could not live. Men who have been habitual drunkards cannot live in this country, any more than men who have become slaves to other vices.
I attribute the deaths that occurred in my expedition on the Zambezi to much the same cause."
"Ah, Doctor, there are two of us gone. I shall be the third, if this fever lasts much longer."
"Oh no, not at all. If you would have died from fever, you would have died at Ujiji when you had that severe attack of remittent. Don"t think of it. Your fever now is only the result of exposure to wet. I never travel during the wet season. This time I have travelled because I was anxious, and I did not wish to detain you at Ujiji."
"Well, there is nothing like a good friend at one"s back in this country to encourage him, and keep his spirits up. Poor Shaw! I am sorry--very sorry for him. How many times have I not endeavoured to cheer him up!
But there was no life in him. And among the last words I said to him, before parting, were, "Remember, if you return to Unyanyembe, you die!""
We also obtained news from the chief of Sayd bin Habib"s caravan that several packets of letters and newspapers, and boxes, had arrived for me from Zanzibar by my messengers and Arabs; that Selim, the son of Sheikh Hashid of Zanzibar, was amongst the latest arrivals in Unyanyembe. The Doctor also reminded me with the utmost good-nature that, according to his accounts, he had a stock of jellies and crackers, soups, fish, and potted ham, besides cheese, awaiting him in Unyanyembe, and that he would be delighted to share his good things; whereupon I was greatly cheered, and, during the repeated attacks of fever I suffered about this time, my imagination loved to dwell upon the luxuries at Unyanyembe.
I pictured myself devouring the hams and crackers and jellies like a madman. I lived on my raving fancies. My poor vexed brain rioted on such homely things as wheaten bread and b.u.t.ter, hams, bacon, caviare, and I would have thought no price too high to pay for them. Though so far away and out of the pale of Europe and America, it was a pleasure to me, during the _athumia_ or despondency into which I was plunged by ever recurring fevers, to dwell upon them. I wondered that people who had access to such luxuries should ever get sick, and become tired of life.
I thought that if a wheaten loaf with a nice pat of fresh b.u.t.ter were presented to me, I would be able, though dying, to spring up and dance a wild fandango.
Though we lacked the good things of this life above named, we possessed salted giraffe and pickled zebra tongues; we had ugali made by Halimah herself; we had sweet potatoes, tea, coffee, dampers, or slap jacks; but I was tired of them. My enfeebled stomach, harrowed and irritated with medicinal compounds, with ipecac, colocynth, tartar-emetic, quinine, and such things, protested against the coa.r.s.e food. "Oh, for a wheaten loaf!" my soul cried in agony. "Five hundred dollars for one loaf of bread!"
The Doctor, somehow or another, despite the incessant rain, the dew, fog, and drizzle, the marching, and sore feet, ate like a hero, and I manfully, sternly, resolved to imitate the persevering attention he paid to the welfare of his gastric powers; but I miserably failed.
Dr. Livingstone possesses all the attainments of a traveller. His knowledge is great about everything concerning Africa--the rocks, the trees, the fruits, and their virtues, are known to him. He is also full of philosophic reflections upon ethnological matter. With camp-craft, with its cunning devices, he is au fait. His bed is luxurious as a spring mattress. Each night he has it made under his own supervision.
First, he has two straight poles cut, three or four inches in diameter; which are laid parallel one with another, at the distance of two feet; across these poles are laid short sticks, saplings, three feet long, and over them is laid a thick pile of gra.s.s; then comes a piece of waterproof canvas and blankets--and thus a bed has been improvised fit for a king.
It was at Livingstone"s instigation I purchased milch goats, by which, since leaving Ujiji, we have had a supply of fresh milk for our tea and coffee three times a day. Apropos of this, we are great drinkers of these welcome stimulants; we seldom halt drinking until we have each had six or seven cups. We have also been able to provide ourselves with music, which, though harsh, is better than none. I mean the musical screech of parrots from Manyuema.
Half-way between Mwaru--Kamirambo"s village--and the deserted Tongoni of Ukamba, I carved the Doctor"s initials and my own on a large tree, with the date February 2nd. I have been twice guilty of this in Africa once when we were famishing in Southern Uvinza I inscribed the date, my initials, and the word "Starving," in large letters on the trunk of a sycamore.
In pa.s.sing through the forest of Ukamba, we saw the bleached skull of an unfortunate victim to the privations of travel. Referring to it, the Doctor remarked that he could never pa.s.s through an African forest, with its solemn stillness and serenity, without wishing to be buried quietly under the dead leaves, where he would be sure to rest undisturbed. In England there was no elbow-room, the graves were often desecrated; and ever since he had buried his wife in the woods of Shupanga he had sighed for just such a spot, where his weary bones would receive the eternal rest they coveted.
The same evening, when the tent door was down, and the interior was made cheerful by the light of a paraffin candle, the Doctor related to me some incidents respecting the career and the death of his eldest son, Robert. Readers of Livingstone"s first book, "South Africa," without which no boy should be, will probably recollect the dying Sebituane"s regard for the little boy "Robert." Mrs. Livingstone and family were taken to the Cape of Good Hope, and thence sent to England, where Robert was put in the charge of a tutor; but wearied of inactivity, when he was about eighteen, he left Scotland and came to Natal, whence he endeavoured to reach his father. Unsuccessful in his attempt, he took ship and sailed for New York, and enlisted in the Northern Army, in a New Hampshire regiment of Volunteers, discarding his own name of Robert Moffatt Livingstone, and taking that of Rupert Vincent that his tutor, who seems to have been ignorant of his duties to the youth, might not find him. From one of the battles before Richmond, he was conveyed to a North Carolina hospital, where he died from his wounds.
On the 7th of February we arrived at the Gombe, and camped near one of its largest lakes. This lake is probably several miles in length, and swarms with hippopotami and crocodiles.
From this camp I despatched Ferajji, the cook, and Chowpereh to Unyanyembe, to bring the letters and medicines that were sent to me from Zanzibar, and meet us at Ugunda, while the next day we moved to our old quarters on the Gombe, where we were first introduced to the real hunter"s paradise in Central Africa. The rain had scattered the greater number of the herds, but there was plenty of game in the vicinity. Soon after breakfast I took Khamisi and Kalulu with me for a hunt. After a long walk we arrived near a thin jungle, where I discovered the tracks of several animals--boar, antelope, elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and an unusual number of imprints of the lion"s paw. Suddenly I heard Khamisi say, "Master, master! here is a "simba!" (lion);" and he came up to me trembling with excitement and fear--for the young fellow was an arrant coward--to point out the head of a beast, which could be seen just above the tall gra.s.s, looking steadily towards us. It immediately afterwards bounded from side to side, but the gra.s.s was so high that it was impossible to tell exactly what it was. Taking advantage of a tree in my front, I crept quietly onwards, intending to rest the heavy rifle against it, as I was so weak from the effects of several fevers that I felt myself utterly incapable of supporting my rifle for a steady aim.
But my surprise was great when I cautiously laid it against the tree, and then directed its muzzle to the spot where I had seen him stand.
Looking further away--to where the gra.s.s was thin and scant--I saw the animal bound along at a great rate, and that it was a lion: the n.o.ble monarch of the forest was in full flight! From that moment I ceased to regard him as the "mightiest among the brutes;" or his roar as anything more fearful in broad daylight than a sucking dove"s.
The next day was also a halt, and unable to contain my longing for the chase, where there used to be such a concourse of game of all kinds, soon after morning coffee, and after despatching a couple of men with presents to my friend Ma-manyara, of ammonia-bottle memory, I sauntered out once more for the park. Not five hundred yards from the camp, myself and men were suddenly halted by hearing in our immediate vicinity, probably within fifty yards or so, a chorus of roars, issuing from a triplet of lions. Instinctively my fingers raised the two hammers, as I expected a general onset on me; for though one lion might fly, it was hardly credible that three should. While looking keenly about I detected, within easy rifle-shot, a fine hartebeest, trembling and cowering behind a tree, as if it expected the fangs of the lion in its neck. Though it had its back turned to me, I thought a bullet might plough its way to a vital part, and without a moment"s hesitation I aimed and fired. The animal gave a tremendous jump, as if it intended to take a flying leap through the tree; but recovering itself it dashed through the underbrush in a different direction from that in which I supposed the lions to be, and I never saw it again, though I knew I had struck it from the b.l.o.o.d.y trail it left; neither did I see nor hear anything more of the lions. I searched far and wide over the park-land for prey of some kind, but was compelled to return unsuccessful to camp.
Disgusted with my failure, we started a little after noon for Manyara, at which place we were hospitably greeted by my friend, who had sent men to tell me that his white brother must not halt in the woods but must come to his village. We received a present of honey and food from the chief, which was most welcome to us in our condition. Here was an instance of that friendly disposition among Central African chiefs when they have not been spoiled by the Arabs, which Dr. Livingstone found among the Babisa and Ba-ulungu, and in Manyuema. I received the same friendly recognition from all the chiefs, from Imrera, in Ukawendi, to Unyanyembe, as I did from Mamanyara.
On the 14th we arrived at Ugunda, and soon after we had established ourselves comfortably in a hut which the chief lent us for our use, in came Ferajji and Chowpereh, bringing with them Sarmean and Uledi Manwa Sera, who, it will be recollected, were the two soldiers sent to Zanzibar with letters and who should Sarmean have in charge but the deserter Hamdallah, who decamped at Manyara, as we were going to Ujiji.
This fellow, it seems, had halted at Kigandu, and had informed the chief and the doctor of the village that he had been sent by the white man to take back the cloth left there for the cure of Mabruk Saleem; and the simple chief had commanded it to be given up to him upon his mere word, in consequence of which the sick man had died.
Upon Sarmean"s arrival in Unyanyembe from Zanzibar, about fifty days after the Expedition had departed for Ujiji the news he received was that the white man (Shaw) was dead; and that a man called Hamdallah, who had engaged himself as one of my guides, but who had shortly after returned, was at Unyanyembe. He had left him unmolested until the appearance of Ferajji and his companion, when they at once, in a body, made a descent on his hut and secured him. With the zeal which always distinguished him in my service, Sarmean had procured a forked pole, between the p.r.o.ngs of which the neck of the absconder was placed; and a cross stick, firmly lashed, effectually prevented him from relieving himself of the inc.u.mbrance attached to him so deftly.
There were no less than seven packets of letters and newspapers from Zanzibar, which had been collecting during my absence from Unyanyembe.
These had been intrusted at various times to the chiefs of caravans, who had faithfully delivered them at my tembe, according to their promise to the Consul. There was one packet for me, which contained two or three letters for Dr. Livingstone, to whom, of course, they were at once transferred, with my congratulations. In the same packet there was also a letter to me from the British Consul at Zanzibar requesting me to take charge of Livingstone"s goods and do the best I could to forward them on to him, dated 25th September, 1871, five days after I left Unyanyembe on my apparently hopeless task.