How I Found Livingstone - Henry M. Stanley (best ereader for comics txt) 📗
- Author: Henry M. Stanley
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As I did not care to gratify my anger at such an expense, I was
compelled to swallow my wrath, and consequently the Wagogo
escaped chastisement.
We halted for one day at this place, which was a great relief to
me, as I was suffering severely from intermittent fever, which
lasted in this case two weeks, and entirely prevented my posting
my diary in full, as was my custom every evening after a march.
The Sultan of Bihawana, though his subjects were evil-disposed, and
ready-handed at theft and murder, contented himself with three doti
as honga. From this chief I received news of my fourth caravan,
which had distinguished itself in a fight with some outlawed
subjects of his; my soldiers had killed two who had attempted,
after waylaying a couple of my pagazis, to carry away a bale of
cloth and a bag of beads; coming up in time, the soldiers
decisively frustrated the attempt. The Sultan thought that if all
caravans were as well guarded as mine were, there would be less
depredations committed on them while on the road; with which I
heartily agreed.
The next sultan’s tembe through whose territory we marched, this
being on the 30th May, was at Kididimo, but four miles from Bihawna.
The road led through a flat elongated plain, lying between two
lengthy hilly ridges, thickly dotted with the giant forms of the
baobab. Kididimo is exceedingly bleak in aspect. Even the faces
of the Wagogo seemed to have contracted a bleak hue from the general
bleakness around. The water of the pits obtained in the
neighbourhood had an execrable flavor, and two donkeys sickened and
died in less than an hour from its effects. Man suffered nausea
and a general irritability of the system, and accordingly revenged
himself by cursing the country and its imbecile ruler most heartily.
The climax came, however, when Bombay reported, after an attempt to
settle the Muhongo, that the chief’s head had grown big since he
heard that the Musungu had come, and that its “bigness” could not
be reduced unless he could extract ten doti as tribute. Though
the demand was large, I was not in a humour—being feeble, and
almost nerveless, from repeated attacks of the Mukunguru—to
dispute the sum: consequently it was paid without many words.
But the Arabs continued the whole afternoon negotiating, and at
the end had to pay eight doti each.
Between Kididimo and Nyambwa, the district of the Sultan Pembera
Pereh, was a broad and lengthy forest and jungle inhabited by the
elephant, rhinoceros, zebra, deer, antelope, and giraffe. Starting
at dawn of the 31st; we entered the jungle, whose dark lines and
bosky banks were clearly visible from our bower at Kididimo;
and, travelling for two hours, halted for rest and breakfast, at
pools of sweet water surrounded by tracts of vivid green verdure,
which were a great resort for the wild animals of the jungle, whose
tracks were numerous and recent. A narrow nullah, shaded deeply
with foliage, afforded excellent retreats from the glaring
sunshine. At meridian, our thirst quenched, our hunger satisfied,
our gourds refilled, we set out from the shade into the heated blaze
of hot noon. The path serpentined in and out of jungle, and thin
forest, into open tracts of grass bleached white as stubble, into
thickets of gums and thorns, which emitted an odour as rank as a
stable; through clumps of wide-spreading mimosa and colonies of
baobab, through a country teeming with noble game, which, though we
saw them frequently, were yet as safe from our rifles as if we had
been on the Indian Ocean. A terekeza, such as we were now making,
admits of no delay. Water we had left behind at noon: until noon
of the next day not a drop was to be obtained; and unless we
marched fast and long on this day, raging thirst would demoralize
everybody. So for six long weary hours we toiled bravely; and at
sunset we camped, and still a march of two hours, to be done before
the sun was an hour high, intervened between us and our camp at
Nyambwa. That night the men bivouacked under the trees, surrounded
by many miles of dense forest, enjoying the cool night unprotected
by hat or tent, while I groaned and tossed throughout the night in
a paroxysm of fever.
The morn came; and, while it was yet young, the long caravan, or
string of caravans, was under way. It was the same forest,
admitting, on the narrow line which we threaded, but one man at a
time. Its view was as limited. To our right and left the forest
was dark and deep. Above was a riband of glassy sky flecked by
the floating nimbus. We heard nothing save a few stray notes from
a flying bird, or the din of the caravans as the men sang, or
hummed, or conversed, or shouted, as the thought struck them that
we were nearing water. One of my pagazis, wearied and sick, fell,
and never rose again. The last of the caravan passed him before
he died.
At 7 A.M. we were encamped at Nyambwa, drinking the excellent
water found here with the avidity of thirsty camels. Extensive
fields of grain had heralded the neighbourhood of the villages,
at the sight of which we were conscious that the caravan was
quickening its pace, as approaching its halting-place. As the
Wasungu drew within the populated area, crowds of Wagogo used their
utmost haste to see them before they passed by. Young and old of
both genders pressed about us in a multitude—a very howling mob.
This excessive demonstrativeness elicited from my sailor overseer
the characteristic remark, ” Well, I declare, these must be the
genuine Ugogians, for they stare! stare—there is no end to their
staring. I’m almost tempted to slap ‘em in the face!” In fact,
the conduct of the Wagogo of Nyambwa was an exaggeration of the
general conduct of Wagogo. Hitherto, those we had met had
contented themselves with staring and shouting; but these outstepped
all bounds, and my growing anger at their excessive insolence
vented itself in gripping the rowdiest of them by the neck, and
before he could recover from his astonishment administering a sound
thrashing with my dog-whip, which he little relished. This
proceeding educed from the tribe of starers all their native power
of vituperation and abuse, in expressing which they were peculiar.
Approaching in manner to angry tom-cats, they jerked their words
with something of a splitting hiss and a half bark. The ejaculation,
as near as I can spell it phonetically, was “hahcht” uttered in a
shrill crescendo tone. They paced backwards and forwards, asking
themselves, “Are the Wagoga to be beaten like slaves by this Musungu?
A Mgogo is a Mgwana (a free man); he is not used to be beaten,—
hahcht.” But whenever I made motion, flourishing my whip,
towards them, these mighty braggarts found it convenient to move
to respectable distances from the irritated Musungu.
Perceiving that a little manliness and show of power was something
which the Wagogo long needed, and that in this instance it relieved
me from annoyance, I had recourse to my whip, whose long lash
cracked like a pistol shot, whenever they overstepped moderation.
So long as they continued to confine their obtrusiveness to
staring, and communicating to each other their opinions respecting
my complexion, and dress, and accoutrements, I philosophically
resigned myself in silence for their amusement; but when they
pressed on me, barely allowing me to proceed, a few vigorous and
rapid slashes right and left with my serviceable thong, soon
cleared the track.
Pembera Pereh is a queer old man, very small, and would be very
insignificant were he not the greatest sultan in Ugogo; and
enjoying a sort of dimediate power over many other tribes.
Though such an important chief, he is the meanest dressed of
his subjects,—is always filthy,—ever greasy—eternally foul
about the mouth; but these are mere eccentricities: as a wise
judge, he is without parallel, always has a dodge ever ready for
the abstraction of cloth from the spiritless Arab merchants, who
trade with Unyanyembe every year; and disposes with ease of a
judicial case which would overtask ordinary men.
Sheikh Hamed, who was elected guider of the united caravans now
travelling through Ugogo, was of such a fragile and small make,
that he might be taken for an imitation of his famous prototype
“Dapper.” Being of such dimensions, what he lacked for weight
and size he made up by activity. No sooner had he arrived in
camp than his trim dapper form was seen frisking about from side
to side of the great boma, fidgeting, arranging, disturbing
everything and everybody. He permitted no bales or packs to be
intermingled, or to come into too close proximity to his own;
he had a favourite mode of stacking his goods, which he would
see carried out; he had a special eye for the best place for
his tent, and no one else must trespass on that ground. One
would imagine that walking ten or fifteen miles a day, he would
leave such trivialities to his servants, but no, nothing could
be right unless he had personally superintended it; in which
work he was tireless and knew no fatigue.
Another not uncommon peculiarity pertained to Sheikh Hamed; as
he was not a rich man, he laboured hard to make the most of every
shukka and doti expended, and each fresh expenditure seemed to
gnaw his very vitals: he was ready to weep, as he himself
expressed it, at the high prices of Ugogo, and the extortionate
demands of its sultans. For this reason, being the leader of
the caravans, so far as he was able we were very sure not to
be delayed in Ugogo, where food was so dear.
The day we arrived at Nyambwa will be remembered by Hamed as long
as he lives, for the trouble and vexation which he suffered. His
misfortunes arose from the fact that, being too busily engaged in
fidgeting about the camp, he permitted his donkeys to stray into
the matama fields of Pembera Pereh, the Sultan. For hours he and
his servants sought for the stray donkeys, returning towards
evening utterly unsuccessful, Hamed bewailing, as only an
Oriental can do, when hard fate visits him with its inflictions,
the loss of a hundred do dollars worth of Muscat donkeys.
Sheikh Thani, older, more experienced, and wiser, suggested to
him that he should notify the Sultan of his loss. Acting upon
the sagacious advice, Hamed sent an embassy of two slaves, and
the information they brought back was, that Pembera Pereh’s
servants had found the two donkeys eating the unripened matama,
and that unless the Arab who owned them would pay nine doti of
first-class cloths, he, Pembera Pereh, would surely keep them
to remunerate him for the matama they had eaten. Hamed was
in despair. Nine doti of first-class cloths, worth $25 in
Unyanyembe, for half a chukka’s worth of grain, was, as he thought,
an absurd demand; but then if he did not pay it, what would
become of the hundred dollars’ worth of donkeys? He proceeded to
the Sultan to show him the absurdity of the damage claim, and to
endeavour to make him accept one chukka, which would be more than
double the worth of what grain the donkeys had consumed. But the
Sultan was sitting on pombe; he was drunk, which I believe to be
his normal state—too drunk to attend to business, consequently his
deputy, a renegade Mnyamwezi, gave ear to the business. With most
of the Wagogo chiefs lives a Mnyamwezi, as their right-hand man,
prime minister, counsellor, executioner, ready man at all things
save the general good; a sort of harlequin Unyamwezi, who is such
an intriguing, restless, unsatisfied person,
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