Although Hatibu professed himself as desirous of pressing on as I did, I found he managed to have so much business to do at Kawele that we were detained there for weeks instead of days, as I had at first supposed. Though I was well lodged and well fed, and by the kindness of the Arabs well clothed, I was always longing for the time when we should again be on the march.

Hatibu here disposed of all his slaves, and to take their places in carrying the ivory, he hired Wanyamwesi who wished to return to their own country. I must say I was heartily glad to be freed from daily witnessing the hopeless toil of the poor wretches.

Loyal comrades as Hatibu and Bilal had proved themselves to me, I could not put up with the apathy with which they regarded the sufferings of these wretched creatures, and thought no more, if so much, of their life or death than if they were brute beasts. To my many remonstrances they would only say, “What does it matter? they are only heathens and slaves;” and though they did not interfere with my doing what I could to alleviate their sufferings, they regarded my efforts with contemptuous indifference, and I verily believe in my own heart they thought I was an idiot for troubling myself about them.

Now we were clear of this. Instead of half-starved, chained wretches, our ivory was to be carried by stalwart Wanyamwesi, who from their very childhood had been in the habit of travelling and carrying heavy loads, supplying the Arabs with the best pagazi or porters that they find in Eastern Africa. A tusk weighing over fifty or sixty pounds, or even below these weights, had to be carried by two slaves; while the brawny fellows who now were to act as our carriers looked upon seventy or eighty pounds as a normal load. One fellow by himself actually carried a monster tusk weighing a hundred and twenty-five pounds, and seemed to find a recompense for his extra toil in the pride he took in carrying the largest piece of ivory we had.

With these fellows, however, we had to give in to their customs of the road; and the road to be taken and the places at which we were to halt were all laid down by the kirangosi, or leader. He marched at the head of the caravan, carrying his load like the rest, and decked in a fantastic manner with beads and feathers, and wearing when coming near a village a robe of scarlet baize, which was his right, in addition to the wages of an ordinary porter. Besides this he was entitled to the head of every animal killed in the caravan, and the heads of fowls, goats, and of any game we shot were all scrupulously demanded by him, and after some process of cookery devoured by him and his companions.

Our departure took place early one morning. We went by water in boats and canoes to a place about four miles south of Kawele, so as to avoid crossing a river which fell into the lake; then after a short piece of flat ground, we commenced to ascend the lofty hills which lay behind. The difference between the Wanyamwesi and slaves as carriers of ivory was nowhere more marked than in this ascent. While the latter would have had to make innumerable halts, and have taken hours to reach the summit, the Wanyamwesi, without any delay, and to show off their manhood and strength, faced the steep ascent as if they were storming a fortress. In little more than fifty minutes we halted on the crest to take our last look at the Tanganyika.

The scene was one of marvellous beauty. The sides of the hills were clothed with forest, the sombre green of the larger forest trees being varied by flowering acacias, which stood out in patches of vivid colouring. At our feet lay a deep inlet of blue water; beyond lay the vast expanse of Tanganyika, shining beneath the rays of the sun like a surface of polished brass, on which the canoes of the fishermen and the floating islands brought down by the numerous streams which feed this vast reservoir of the mighty Congo seemed like the merest specks; while in the far distance the mountains of Ugoma lay like clouds deep in shadow. Looking inland was one sea of forest, from which arose cloud-capped hills, and the only sign that human beings had any existence were dim wreaths of smoke, which betrayed the presence of the people of Ukaranga.

Our first camp lay near one of their villages, and a grinning human skull over its gateway, through which none of us were allowed to pass, showed how little the semi-civilization of Kawele had done to leaven the savagery of the surrounding peoples. Though this grinning remnant of mortality had a gruesome and forbidding appearance, we found the people ready enough to come to our camp to dispose of fowls, eggs, bananas, and other articles of food, for dried fish from the lake, with a goodly stock of which we had provided ourselves.

At night I spoke to Hatibu of all that lay before us. He said of one thing I might be sure—that as far as Unyanyembe we should travel fast, for the carriers were paid by the job irrespective of time, and were homeward bound. Sure enough I found they did not intend to loiter, for long before sunrise the horn of the kirangosi roused the sleeping camp, and as soon as the first glimmer of dawn enabled us to see how to avoid the difficulties of the road, loads were shouldered, and

we commenced our march. We pressed on without a stoppage save for one day in order to buy salt, which would prove valuable on the road. For this we exchanged all the fish we had brought from Kawele, and the exchange certainly rendered the odour of our camp more pleasant than it had hitherto been.

It was curious to see how the people made the salt by simply boiling the soil in earthen pots, and then straining the water off the mud through rough sieves made of leaves and grass, and evaporating the brine. Usually the first filtration was not sufficient, and the process had often to be repeated four or five times before a coarse brown salt which looked like dirty sand was obtained. I was much astonished to find that though the whole country was impregnated with salt, the streams and rivers did not taste of it, but were perfectly fresh and sweet.

Six days after leaving Ujiji we arrived at the Malagarazi, whose red-brown waters we had seen discolouring the Tanganyika on our way northward to Kawele. Here we had to bargain with the lord of the ferry and his numerous subordinates for our passage across its swift and swirling waters. It was quite unfordable, and, as no trees grew on its banks, we had no means of bridging it, and had to cross in canoes.

The bargaining for permission to cross required both time and patience; and when it was all concluded I thought that certainly we should find some decent sort of craft provided to transport us and our belongings to the farther bank. It was about an hour after sunrise when we arrived at the banks of the river, which were covered with dense masses of canes, and not a sign was there of the men or the canoes which had been promised and paid for. We waited while Hatibu sent messengers to press the chief to hurry his men, and sat waiting patiently for them to return on a small rise just outside the cane-swamp. Presently we saw one or two heads of men gliding down through the canes, and Hatibu shouted, “Pack up, pack up! see the canoes.”

All hands answered to his shout, and seizing their loads forced their way through the canes and mud to the edge of the river. There we found two things which might be called canoes, but were simply strips of bark eighteen or twenty feet long, with the ends pinched and sewn together, so that they formed troughs some fifteen inches wide and twelve deep. In one end (bow or stern one could not name it) stood a black fellow, who propelled his crazy craft with a long pole, punting in the shallows and paddling when he could not reach the bottom. In all my experiences I had never seen such frail and rickety craft as those now provided, and I wondered how we should get across without disaster, more especially as I was told that the river swarmed with crocodiles, and if one was capsized the chances were two to one in favour of being seized and carried off by these monsters.

A man with his load, and the ferryman, loaded the frail craft far beyond the Board of Trade regulations. I watched with anxiety the passage of some twenty men and their loads. Seeing no disaster, I summoned up courage and stepped carefully and gingerly into one; then kneeling down and leaning forward I held on to the sticks which formed an apology for a gunwale, and gave the word to shove off. The water washed against my knuckles, and even trickled over the side, and I thought nothing could have saved me from an upset; but my dusky Charon was as deft in managing the balance of his swaying vessel as a rope-dancer, and I arrived at the farther bank, thankful to be across the Malagarazi safe and sound.

As soon as I was across Hatibu told me to go on with Bilal and the men already over to a neighbouring village, where we should stay for the night. Hatibu said that now no danger or difficulty lay between us and Unyanyembe. I at once pushed on, and soon came to a large stockaded village, where huts were cleared for our reception. When I looked at the elaborate nature of its defences I felt that they betokened an unsettled country, and thought Hatibu had spoken more hopefully than he was warranted in doing.

The mutwale, or chief of the village, came to gossip and stare at the mzungu (white man). Bilal found from him that the Watuta, whom we had heard of at Ujiji, were still about, had destroyed many villages, and would doubtless have attacked this one if it had not been for the memory of having been beaten off with heavy loss some years previously. This was bad news indeed. Its truth was proved by the arrival during the afternoon and evening of fugitives from villages that had been attacked by these robbers. When night fell we could see the reflection of flames against the skies, which showed where the villages they had taken had been set on fire after their lust for murder and plunder had been satisfied. I was told that the Watuta if opposed never spare man, woman, or child, and that safety from their attacks is only to be found in flight or a successful resistance.

Hatibu and Bilal were much disturbed by this news, and though they did not doubt that the mutwale spoke the truth when he boasted of being able to resist any attack that the Watuta might make against his village fortress, they did not care to become involved in any struggle with them and lose much valuable time, and they began to consider what they should do to avoid them. The kirangosi was called into council, and he said, “The Watuta are very bad; they are wicked and hot as fire.”

“Well,” replied Hatibu, “we know that. We ask not from you what is known to all men. We want words of understanding, not words of foolishness.”

“Truly,” answered the man, “the way to Unyanyembe is short; but of what avail is it that the road is short? for the Watuta are there.”

I thought there was not much use in consulting a man who only answered in this manner, and said as much to Hatibu. He said there was another and longer road, and this man knew it; and if he made the proposal to travel by it, all would go well, but that he himself did not want to propose it, as probably he would then refuse.

After sitting for some time in silence, Hatibu said it would be no use remaining where we were, and it would be best to return to Ujiji.

At this the kirangosi looked annoyed, and said, “Turn back upon our steps! No. The ivory may remain here, and you may go, but I and my men are going to the country of our brothers. We will not turn back.”

Another long silence followed, and then the kirangosi said: “Listen, masters. There is a road where the Watuta do not come, but it is long, and for many days we shall be in the forest and in the wild, and see no villages; but if my masters say the word, I and my men will take that road, and we will arrive in Unyanyembe in safety.”

This was what Hatibu had been waiting for, but he would not appear too eager to assent, and made it appear as if he were persuaded by the kirangosi to follow this other road. At last he said he would do as the kirangosi wished, and the latter springing to his feet said, “Let us be going. It is now night, and the Watuta sleep. By the morning we shall be far from them, and to-morrow night we shall be in the mountains of Kawendi, where they cannot follow us.”

In a moment all was bustle and preparation. Sleeping men were roused, loads were lashed up and shouldered, and the mutwale being persuaded by a handsome present to open the entrance of his village, we set forth on our march.

All night long we made our way along a narrow path, and in the morning found ourselves on the summit of a range of hills. To the north we could see wide plains mostly covered by forest, but with numerous villages and clearings scattered about, from some of which the rising of columns of smoke told us the Watuta were even then pursuing their work of destruction. To the south rose ranges of mountains, table-topped, with precipitous sides rising out of a sea of jungle. These were the mountains of Kawendi, and through them our path lay.

After a short halt for the purpose of cooking some food and resting, the iron-muscled Wanyamwesi shouted out that it was time to be on the march again, and though I know I felt tired and weary, there was no lagging. Soon we were rapidly descending the hillslopes towards a largish river which we saw lying below us. I asked how we were to cross this, as it seemed too broad to bridge; and as there were no signs of habitations near, we could not hope to find canoes like those in which we had been ferried across the Malagarazi.

Hatibu said, “That’s all right; the kirangosi says we shall cross on sindi.”

“Sindi! what is that?” I asked.

“Wait, Franki, and you will see,” answered Hatibu.

I followed the long line of men, wondering what this sindi could be. Before reaching the river-bank I saw to my astonishment that some of the men were already across, and that others apparently, as far as I could see through trees and grass, were walking on the surface of the river. When I came to the bank I found that though there was open water to the right and left of us, the surface of the stream was covered with a matted growth of papyrus and other water-plants, sufficiently thick and buoyant to support our weight in crossing, and that all our men were without hesitation trusting themselves to its seemingly treacherous surface.

“Do you see and understand sindi now, Franki?” said Hatibu. “Follow close to me and step where I step, as there are holes sometimes, and if you fall through you will die.”

No warning was requisite to make me exercise caution, for the yielding, swaying surface caused a curious sense of insecurity. We got across to the other side without misadventure, and before nightfall we were among the mountains of Kawendi, and safe from any pursuit of the Watuta.

But though we had nothing to apprehend from human foes, we found that we had to struggle with other dangers, hardships, and difficulties.

First of all, the few inhabitants of the mountains were all separated into little village communities, perched on almost inaccessible crags. The people were separated into a number of little independent communities, sometimes not numbering more than twenty or thirty of both sexes and all ages, and each little hamlet was at war with its neighbours. When we attempted to approach, to try to find provisions, the villagers closed the approaches, and in some instances rolled down stones upon the men who would have spoken to them, and when we were permitted to have any intercourse they could spare but little from their scanty stocks to satisfy our necessities.

Want of food did not diminish the difficulty in toiling up the steep hillsides and forcing our way through the tangled undergrowth in the ravines. When after five days of much and hard toil we reached the limit of this mountainous country, and saw a large village near us, we gave way to rejoicings, for now we thought we should be able to buy food, and to provide for the long stretch of uninhabited jungle which lay between the mountains of Kawendi and the first villages of Ugara, the westernmost of the countries comprised in the general name of Unyamwesi, or Country of the Moon.

But our rejoicings were premature, for as we drew near we heard drums beating and we saw that the people were prepared for war. The only response to men sent to call to the inhabitants that we came in peace and would pay for all we wanted was a volley of arrows. Our messengers came back and reported their reception. We were fain to resume our weary way hungry and dissatisfied. Hatibu would, I have no doubt, if there had been any prospect of success, have willingly attacked these inhospitable niggards. He said that behind their village, which lay at the foot of a precipitous rocky hill, there were many caves, in which they would take refuge, and where they stored all their supplies. He bitterly complained of the bad policy of some of the traders in making slave-raids into these countries, and rendering all the people hostile to strangers.

As we turned our faces towards the forests which we had now to pass through we came upon some large patches of Indian corn nearly ripe. From these we managed to get a supply of food which would last some days; and I could not object, for without it there can be little doubt that we should have been starved.

Our kirangosi, who said he was well acquainted with this road, was soon obliged to confess himself at fault, and we had to trust to the general idea of the direction in which we wished to travel, and often came upon rivers, hills, and swamps, which greatly interfered with our progress. Fortunately we soon found game was plentiful, and we managed to shoot a few antelopes, one of which I believe must have been an eland. We shot also some buffaloes, which afforded a welcome supply of meat, our stock of Indian corn having become exhausted. Our men, when there was no game for the pot, had to resort to mushrooms of giant size and gorgeous colour, lichens off the trees, and even leaves and grass, to stay the cravings of their stomachs.

Abundance of game was not without its drawbacks, as two incidents which occurred and which come vividly to my memory may prove. One day while we were all marching along slowly and sadly, no one having any heart for the songs or shouts with which the African usually enlivens his day’s march, I was astonished by seeing a sudden panic seize the carriers, who pitched their loads on the ground and scampering off to the handiest trees commenced to climb them. Hatibu shouted to me to follow him, as with the agility of a monkey he swung himself on to the lower branches of an acacia tree, regardless of the thorns, and I, hardly knowing what I was doing, hastened to place myself beside him.

Hardly was I in the branches when I heard a rushing sound below me of the trampling of hoofs, and a buffalo bull, with head down and tail up, charged along the path we were following, tossing and goring the abandoned loads, and was soon away again. Fortunately no damage was done, and we were soon all reassembled, laughing at the figures we had made in our hasty flight. Those who had guns lamented that no use had been made of them, and the buffalo turned into account by shooting him.

The other was also an adventure with a buffalo, and was another instance of the blind rage with which these animals at times seem to be possessed; but unfortunately it did not pass off in such a ludicrous and harmless manner.

One evening, while searching round our camp for something which might serve for food, I came upon a small pond surrounded by reeds growing to a height of ten or twelve feet, and some men who were with me told me that the roots of these reeds and the fruit of a water-lily which grew in the pond were good to eat, and we set to work to collect some.

I was up to my waist in mud and water, picking the pods off the water-lilies, when I heard a scream and a crash, or more properly a crash and a scream, and I heard the voice of a man crying out, “Franki, Franki! mbogo, mbogo!” (buffalo, buffalo). Pushing through the reeds I saw one poor fellow on the ground gored by a buffalo, while another, though only armed with a shoka, or hatchet, was preparing to attack the infuriated animal.

I had nothing in my hands. For a moment I thought I could do nothing; but suddenly the idea entered my head to seize the buffalo by the tail, which I did. The brute was evidently surprised and astonished at this strange attack, and turned and twisted about trying to disencumber himself of me. Though dragged off my feet, fortunately I was able to keep my grip, and the man with the hatchet dealt him several blows on the head and neck, actually succeeding in hacking off one of his horns.

The beast rolled over in agony, dragging me with him, and I was in momentary fear of being crushed under his body. But aid was at hand, for Hatibu and Bilal came rushing up with their guns, accompanied by men armed with spears, and in less time than it takes to write about it the animal had received the contents of both muskets and was riddled with spears. His death was almost instantaneous, and I was saved from my perilous position; but the poor fellow who had been first attacked received mortal injuries, and breathed his last before we could carry him into our camp.

The flesh of the buffalo formed a welcome addition to our lichens and roots; but two days afterwards we arrived in the first villages of Ugara, where we found food in plenty. Passing through Ugara and Uganda we reached the Arab settlement of Kazeh in Unyanyembe, where I found a number of Arab traders of various degrees, who were most kind to me, and did all they could to supply my wants.