Our first day’s voyage was to some islands about four miles north of where we embarked. Here we stopped till night-time, so as not to have to pull in the heat of the sun when we started for the long voyage to the opposite shore. The point which we were to make on the opposite side was a bold headland, which Hatibu told me was called Kungwe. It was the southernmost point of land on that side visible from Kawele, and seemed to be about forty miles distant.

As soon as the sun had gone down we manned the canoes. The one in which Hatibu and I took our passage was partly manned by Zanzibar people, who pulled rude oars made of a large round piece of wood nailed on to the end of a short pole. The other two, which had crews hired to us by the chief who had taken care of this squadron of Tipolo’s, were propelled by paddles, having very small blades shaped like the ace of clubs. All our people, except the unfortunate slaves, were very merry at the prospect of reaching a place where they would meet their countrymen, and have an opportunity of learning the news from and gossiping about their beloved island and Unyanyembe, and where they could strut and swagger and brag of having been in Manyuema, and lord it over those who had never been to the west of the lake. As they laboured at the oars they sang songs which seemed destitute of tune, but contained allusions to good times they were going to have, and praised themselves as brave and fine fellows who had done so much; and when the man who sang the solo parts made a special hit all joined in the chorus with zest and pulled their hardest, making their clumsy craft fairly dance over the water.

The scenery on the lake on this beautiful night was inexpressibly lovely. The moon, which was a little past her first quarter, threw a gentle silvery light over the water, and allowed us to distinguish the outlines of the mountains by which it was surrounded. Till the moon set I sat on the poop close by Hatibu, who was steering. I was simply enjoying myself, the cool night air on the lake and the luxury of moving without labour being great. When the moon sank behind the western mountains, and the men, though they still pulled lustily, gave up singing, I lay down, and covering myself with some mats, I watched the glorious stars of the tropics, like golden lamps hanging in the blue-black heavens, till I fell asleep to dream of my father and the Petrel.

I was dreaming that I was on board the Petrel when she was struck by a squall, and losing my footing had rolled down into the lee-scuppers; and I woke to find that the canoe was pitching about in an angry and confused sea, and that I had been rolled from where I was sleeping to the other side of the poop. I at once got hold of the rail and, raising myself up, looked round. Not a star was visible now, and a heavy breeze blowing had caused a nasty cross-sea to rise. Of the other two canoes I could see nothing; and our own was shipping a good deal of water, keeping four or five men constantly at work baling, while the slaves were lying about moaning and bewailing their unhappy lot, and suffering from all the miseries of sea-sickness.

The wind had come up from the southward and eastward, and we had been driven so considerably to the northward of Kungwe, that instead of making the point we would have to put in under the shelter of another called Kabogo. As this would have the effect of considerably shortening our voyage to Kawele, it may be imagined that I did not at all mind, and in about a couple of hours we reached a small inlet where we were sheltered from wind and sea. Here was an old camp, and we soon had fires lighted to dry our belongings and cook our food, and even the poor slaves seemed to be happy to have escaped from what to them had appeared the dangers of the lake.

As soon as the canoe was cleared out, and some men set to work to calk the leaks which had been caused by the knocking about we had received, Hatibu proposed to me to walk up to the top of the cape and look out for the other canoes.

When we arrived there we could see one of our consorts still battling with the waves, and evidently attempting to get into a large bay which lay between us and Kungwe, so as to pull up to that headland in smooth water. Of the other, which was the large one made of a single tree, we could not see any sign, and Hatibu said he was much afraid that in such a sea as we had encountered she might have capsized and, together with her occupants and valuable cargo, been lost. He ordered a big fire to be made as a signal to the canoe we saw that we had arrived. When it blazed up we saw her alter her course, and soon after she came into the inlet where we had found shelter.

As soon as she arrived we made anxious inquiries if her crew had any news of the missing craft; but they had seen nothing of her since leaving the islands. As the hours passed on and nothing could be seen by the look-outs we had stationed to watch, we were all of us obliged to agree with Hatibu that she had probably been capsized.

I pointed out that though she might upset and roll her cargo out she could not possibly sink, and proposed that we should go in search of her on the chance of finding some of her crew clinging to her. This proposal was not welcomed with enthusiasm, the crews of both canoes saying they were too tired to put to sea again, and before we could get any distance away from land it would be night. I persisted that we should search for our comrades, and at last my arguments prevailed so far that Hatibu decided at daylight the next morning to look for her.

We all felt gloomy and depressed owing to the non-arrival of the canoe, and at night round the camp-fires there were none of the songs and jokes which had been common the night before. At sunset Hatibu was going to recall the look-outs and let the fire die out, but I persuaded him to keep it burning, for there might be some chance of the absent ones being still afloat and safe, and if they saw the fire they would naturally come to it and not go to Kungwe.

To this he agreed, and it was well he did so, for in the middle of the night, after the moon had set, we heard the songs of the paddlers, and the missing canoe glided into the inlet. The story of her crew was a very short and simple one. About an hour after starting they found they had left two of their number behind, and had to put back for them; then when the wind had sprung up they had thought it best not to start until it lulled again, which was not until the afternoon. They then shaped their course for Kungwe, but soon after sunset they saw our fire on Kabogo and made for that place.

All was now life and spirit, and notwithstanding the time of night the men began dancing and singing, heedless of the hard day’s work which lay before them. Long before daylight the canoes were loaded, and we pushed out into the lake and commenced coasting northwards towards Kawele. A fresh southerly breeze soon came up. We landed to cut down some bamboos, on which we spread mats and cloths; and so we extemporized some sails, which helped us on our way merrily. About two in the afternoon we passed the long red promontory formed by the mud brought down by the swift and turbulent Malagarazi, and could see the point behind which Kawele was situated. Though the breeze died away with the sun the men kept stoutly to their work, and when they at last ceased from pulling we were only half an hour from our goal. The only reason for not going on was the unseemliness in a caravan from dreaded Manyuema with wealth of ivory and slaves coming in with as little ceremony as a fishing-canoe. It was necessary that there should be firing of guns and beating of drums and waving of flags, and that the ivory should be carried up before all beholders to show the wealth Tipolo had gained by pushing his journeys so far afield.

As soon as the first signs of dawn appeared behind the eastern hills all were on the alert, and finery, of the existence of which I had never dreamed, was donned by all. Spears and shields from Manyuema, and trophies of our fight beyond Nyangwe, were displayed, drums were placed on poop and forecastle, and from the stem of our ship Hatibu displayed a white and red flag, on which were written quotations from the Koran. Our men wore head-dresses of zebras’ manes and buffaloes’ tails, bracelets of beads and copper were put on hands and wrists, and a liberal allowance of powder was served out to all who had the good fortune to possess muskets.

As soon as all these preparations were made we shoved off, and the whole of the men in the three canoes struck up a song of rejoicing, the only mournful faces being those of the unfortunate slaves, whose numbers by death and sale had greatly dwindled since the time we had left Nyangwe. People on shore soon heard the sound of our songs, and little knots of gazers clustered on the dwarf red cliffs, eagerly pointing out to each other the boats of Tipolo returning from Manyuema. Some rushed off to convey the news to the Arabs and the freemen, the men from “the island” and the sea, that news had come, and good news, of those who had crossed the lake and ventured into strange and distant lands.

Soon drums and horns were heard, and on coming close to shore and rounding a point we came in sight of the settlement of Kawele, with its Arab houses, and its busy market in full swing. Among the market people we could see Arabs in their white dresses making their way to the landing-place, their followers shouting and dancing, beating drums, and blowing horns. To this we answered right royally; for never did I think that such a volume of sound could be emitted from human throats as the shouts and yells to which our men gave vent as we paddled and pulled past the landing, firing our guns, beating our drums, and blowing our horns. I caught the infection and shouted with the best of them, and like a madman blazed away with a gun Hatibu had given me.

Three times did we pass up and down before the landing. We then stopped and drew up in line abreast, with our bows pointing towards the beach, and after a short pause dashed forward to it, redoubling if possible the rapidity of our fire and the noise we were making.

No sooner did the canoes touch the shore than they were seized by hundreds of willing hands and dragged up high and dry. In an instant Hatibu and his men were in the arms of their friends, who seized upon the ivory and loads to convey them to Tipolo’s house, even the women and children joining, tiny urchins of four and five begging to be allowed to carry something, no matter what, belonging to the men who had come from Manyuema.

The scene was one which it was impossible to describe. There were first of all the market-people from all parts of the shores of the lake, who in the daily market held at Kawele find a sale for their goods—fish (fresh and dried), meat, ghee, fowls, eggs, hemp from Ubwari, pottery and iron from Uvira, salt from Uvinza, ivory, and slaves—each of the tribes being distinguished by varieties in tattooing, manner of hair-dressing, and shape of their weapons. Then there were the Arabs and their followers from Zanzibar, and their Wanyamwesi porters, on this occasion suspending their buying and selling to welcome their friends who had indeed returned alive from Manyuema.

It was some hours before the ferment and turmoil caused by our arrival had calmed down, and I was feeling sad at there being no one special friend to welcome me, as even the meanest of my companions found chums and admirers to listen to the wonderful tales he had to relate; but soon I found that good fellow Hatibu had not forgotten me, for a room was cleared for me, and such a meal as even in Tipolo’s house at Nyangwe I had never dreamed of was provided for me—curry, rice, fish, beef, wheaten cakes, sweetmeats, butter, milk, coffee. If, like Jack the Giant Killer, I had been provided with a leathern wallet, or had possessed the appetites of Gargantua or Dando the oyster-eater, I could not have done justice to the meal which was spread for me. Hatibu kept on urging me to eat, saying that Kawele in Ujiji was indeed a land of plenty, and the Arabs would not be pleased unless I ate all that was sent me.

After a time Hatibu was convinced this was an impossibility, and he led me away to where the principal Arabs were assembled under the veranda of a big house to learn news of Tipolo and Manyuema, and in return to tell us what had happened since Tipolo’s brother had quitted Kawele. Every man who had gone to Manyuema was asked after by name. When told that one was dead, the response was, “It is God’s will,” and when told that one was alive, “How many slaves and how much ivory has he got?” Stories of the fight in which alone of all our party Hatibu, Bilal, and I had escaped were listened to with attention, and great was the astonishment manifested that I, a mzungu (a white man), should have survived all the difficulties and hardships I had encountered.

Hatibu and his companions had as many questions to ask about the fate of those they had left behind, and how the road was in front. The road, we heard, was good, and the people peaceful, the only trouble that had lately occurred being an attack made on a caravan by the Watuta (a predatory nomad tribe), who had been beaten off with severe loss, and would not likely give trouble again for a long time.

All indeed seemed couleur de rose, and when I slept at night I looked upon the time as being close at hand when I again should see my countrymen and hear my native tongue.