A Popular Account of Dr. Livingstone's Expedition to the Zambesi and Its Tributaries

In going north, we came into a part called Mpemba where Chibisa was owned as chief, but the people did not know that he had been assassinated by the Portuguese Terera.  A great deal of grain was lying round the hut, where we spent the night.  Very large numbers of turtledoves feasted undisturbed on the tall stalked mapira ears, and we easily secured plenty of fine fat guinea-fowls—now allowed to feed leisurely in the deserted gardens.  The reason assigned for all this listless improvidence was “There are no women to grind the corn—all are dead.”

The cotton patches in all cases seemed to have been so well cared for, and kept so free of weeds formerly, that, though now untended, but few weeds had sprung up; and the bushes were thus preserved in the annual grass burnings.  Many baobab-trees grow in different spots, and the few people seen were using the white pulp found between the seeds to make a pleasant subacid drink.

On passing Malango, near the uppermost cataract, not a soul was to be seen; but, as we rested opposite a beautiful tree-covered island, the merry voices of children at play fell on our ears—the parents had fled thither for protection from the slave-hunting Ajawa, still urged on by the occasional visits of the Portuguese agents from Tette.  The Ajawa, instead of passing below the Cataracts, now avoided us, and crossed over to the east side near to the tree on which we had hung the boat.  Those of the Manganja, to whom we could make ourselves known, readily came to us; but the majority had lost all confidence in themselves, in each other, and in every one else.  The boat had been burned about three months previously, and the Manganja were very anxious that we should believe that this had been the act of the Ajawa; but on scanning the spot we saw that it was more likely to have caught fire in the grass-burning of the country.  Had we intended to be so long in returning to it, we should have hoisted it bottom upwards; for, as it was, it is probable that a quantity of dried leaves lay inside, and a spark ignited the whole.  All the trees within fifty yards were scorched and killed, and the nails, iron, and copper sheathing, all lay undisturbed beneath.  Had the Ajawa done the deed, they would have taken away the copper and iron.

Our hopes of rendering ourselves independent of the south for provisions, by means of this boat, being thus disappointed, we turned back with the intention of carrying another up to the same spot; and, in order to find level ground for this, we passed across from the Shiré at Malango to the upper part of the stream Lesungwé.  A fine, active, intelligent fellow, called Pekila, guided us, and was remarkable as almost the only one of the population left with any spirit in him.  The depressing effect which the slave-hunting scourge has upon the native mind, though little to be wondered at, is sad, very sad to witness.  Musical instruments, mats, pillows, mortars for pounding meal, were lying about unused, and becoming the prey of the white ants.  With all their little comforts destroyed, the survivors were thrown still further back into barbarism.

It is of little importance perhaps to any but travellers to notice that in occupying one night a well-built hut, which had been shut up for some time, the air inside at once gave us a chill, and an attack of fever; both of which vanished when the place was well-ventilated by means of a fire.  We have frequently observed that lighting a fire early in the mornings, even in the hottest time of the year, gives freshness to the whole house, and removes that feeling of closeness and langour, which a hot climate induces.

On the night of the 1st July, 1863, several loud peals of thunder awoke us; the moon was shining brightly, and not a cloud to be seen.  All the natives remarked on the clearness of the sky at the time, and next morning said, “We thought it was God” (Morungo).

On arriving at the ship on the 2nd July, we found a despatch from Earl Russell, containing instructions for the withdrawal of the Expedition.  The devastation caused by slave-hunting and famine lay all around.  The labour had been as completely swept away from the Great Shiré Valley, as it had been from the Zambesi, wherever Portuguese intrigue or power extended.  The continual forays of Mariano had spread ruin and desolation on our south-east as far as Mount Clarendon.

While this was going on in our rear, the Tette slave-hunters from the West had stimulated the Ajawa to sweep all the Manganja off the hills on our East; and slaving parties for this purpose were still passing the Shiré above the Cataracts.  In addition to the confession of the Governor of Tette, of an intention to go on with this slaving in accordance with the counsel of his elder brother at Mosambique, we had reason to believe that slavery went on under the eye of his Excellency, the Governor-General himself; and this was subsequently corroborated by our recognizing two women at Mosambique who had lived within a hundred yards of the Mission-station at Magomero.  They were well known to our attendants, and had formed a part of a gang of several hundreds taken to Mosambique by the Ajawa at the very time when his Excellency was entertaining English officers with anti-slavery palavers.  To any one who understands how minute the information is, which Portuguese governors possess by means of their own slaves, and through gossiping traders who seek to curry their favour, it is idle to assert that all this slaving goes on without their approval and connivance.

If more had been wanted to prove the hopelessness of producing any change in the system which has prevailed ever since our allies, the Portuguese, entered the country, we had it in the impunity with which the freebooter, Terera, who had murdered Chibisa, was allowed to carry on his forays.  Belchoir, another marauder, had been checked, but was still allowed to make war, as they term slave-hunting.

Mr. Horace Waller was living for some five months on Mount Morambala, a position from which the whole process of the slave-trade, and depopulation of the country around could be well noted.  The mountain overlooks the Shiré, the beautiful meanderings of which are distinctly seen, on clear days, for thirty miles.  This river was for some time supposed to be closed against Mariano, who, as a mere matter of form, was declared a rebel against the Portuguese flag.  When, however, it became no longer possible to keep up the sham, the river was thrown open to him; and Mr. Waller has seen in a single day from fifteen to twenty canoes of different sizes going down, laden with slaves, to the Portuguese settlements from the so-called rebel camp.  These cargoes were composed entirely of women and children.  For three months this traffic was incessant, and at last, so completely was the mask thrown off, that one of the officials came to pay a visit to Bishop Tozer on another part of the same mountain, and, combining business with pleasure, collected payment for some canoe work done for the Missionary party, and with this purchased slaves from the rebels, who had only to be hailed from the bank of the river.  When he had concluded the bargain he trotted the slaves out for inspection in Mr. Waller’s presence.  This official, Senhor Mesquita, was the only officer who could be forced to live at the Kongoné.  From certain circumstances in his life, he had fallen under the power of the local Government; all the other Custom-house officers refused to go to Kongoné, so here poor Mesquita must live on a miserable pittance—must live, and perhaps slave, sorely against his will.  His name is not brought forward with a view of throwing any odium on his character.  The disinterested kindness which he showed to Dr. Meller, and others, forbids that he should be mentioned by us with anything like unkindness.

Under all these considerations, with the fact that we had not found the Rovuma so favourable for navigation at the time of our visit as we expected, it was impossible not to coincide in the wisdom of our withdrawal; but we deeply regretted that we had ever given credit to the Portuguese Government for any desire to ameliorate the condition of the African race; for, with half the labour and expense anywhere else, we should have made an indelible mark of improvement on a section of the Continent.  Viewing Portuguese statesmen in the light of the laws they have passed for the suppression of slavery and the slave-trade, and by the standard of the high character of our own public men, it cannot be considered weakness to have believed in the sincerity of the anxiety to aid our enterprise, professed by the Lisbon Ministry.  We hoped to benefit both Portuguese and Africans by introducing free-trade and Christianity.  Our allies, unfortunately, cannot see the slightest benefit in any measure that does not imply raising themselves up by thrusting others down.  The official paper of the Lisbon Government has since let us know “that their policy was directed to frustrating the grasping designs of the British Government to the dominion of Eastern Africa.”  We, who were on the spot, and behind the scenes, knew that feelings of private benevolence had the chief share in the operations undertaken for introducing the reign of peace and good will on the Lakes and central regions, which for ages have been the abodes of violence and bloodshed.  But that great change was not to be accomplished.  The narrow-minded would ascribe all that was attempted to the grasping propensity of the English.  But the motives that actuate many in England, both in public and private life, are much more noble than the world gives them credit for.

Seeing, then, that we were not yet arrived at “the good time coming,” and that it was quite impossible to take the “Pioneer” down to the sea till the floods of December, we made arrangements to screw the “Lady Nyassa” together; and, in order to improve the time intervening, we resolved to carry a boat past the Cataracts a second time, sail along the eastern shore of the Lake, and round the northern end, and also collect data by which to verify the information collected by Colonel Rigby, that the 19,000 slaves, who go through the Custom-house of Zanzibar annually, are chiefly drawn from Lake Nyassa and the Valley of the Shiré.

Our party consisted of twenty natives, some of whom were Johanna men, and were supposed to be capable of managing the six oxen which drew the small wagon with a boat on it.  A team of twelve Cape oxen, with a Hottentot driver and leader, would have taken the wagon over the country we had to pass through with the greatest ease; but no sooner did we get beyond the part of the road already made, than our drivers encountered obstructions in the way of trees and gullies, which it would have been a waste of time to have overcome by felling timber and hauling out the wagon by block and tackle purchases.  The Ajawa and Manganja settled at Chibisa’s were therefore sent for, and they took the boat on their shoulders and carried it briskly, in a few days, past all the Cataracts except one; then coming to a comparatively still reach of the river, they took advantage of it to haul her up a couple of miles.  The Makololo had her then entirely in charge; for, being accustomed to rapids in their own country, no better boatmen could be desired.  The river here is very narrow, and even in what are called still places, the current is very strong, and often obliged them to haul the boat along by the reeds on the banks, or to hand a tow-rope ashore.  The reeds are full of cowitch (Dolichos pruriens), the pods of which are covered with what looks a fine velvety down, but is in reality a multitude of fine prickles, which go in by the million, and caused an itching and stinging in the naked bodies of those who were pulling the tow-rope, that made them wriggle as if stung by a whole bed of nettles.  Those on board required to be men of ready resource with oars and punting-poles, and such they were.  But, nevertheless, they found, after attempting to pass by a rock, round which the water rushed in whirls, that the wiser plan would be to take the boat ashore, and carry her past the last Cataract.  When this was reported, the carriers were called from the various shady trees under which they had taken refuge from the sun.  This was midwinter, but the sun is always hot by day here, though the nights are cold.  Five Zambesi men, who had been all their lives accustomed to great heavy canoes,—the chief recommendation of which is said to be, that they can be run against a rock with the full force of the current without injury—were very desirous to show how much better they could manage our boat than the Makololo; three jumped into her when our backs were turned, and two hauled her up a little way; the tide caught her bow, we heard a shout of distress, the rope was out of their hands in a moment, and there she was, bottom upwards; a turn or two in an eddy, and away she went, like an arrow, down the Cataracts.  One of the men in swimming ashore saved a rifle.  The whole party ran with all their might along the bank, but never more did we see our boat.

The five performers in this catastrophe approached with penitential looks.  They had nothing to say, nor had we.  They bent down slowly, and touched our feet with both hands.  “Ku kuata moendo”—“to catch the foot”—is their way of asking forgiveness.  It was so like what we have seen a little child do—try to bring a dish unbidden to its papa, and letting it fall, burst into a cry of distress—that they were only sentenced to go back to the ship, get provisions, and, in the ensuing journey on foot, carry as much as they could, and thus make up for the loss of the boat.

It was excessively annoying to lose all this property, and be deprived of the means of doing the work proposed, on the east and north of the Lake; but it would have been like crying over spilt milk to do otherwise now than make the best use we could of our legs.  The men were sent back to the ship for provisions, cloth, and beads; and while they are gone, we may say a little of the Cataracts which proved so fatal to our boating plan.

CHAPTER XIII

Dr. Livingstone’s further explorations—Effects of slave-trade—Kirk’s range—Ajawa migration—Native fishermen—Arab slave-crossing—Splendid highlands.

The Murchison Cataracts of the Shiré river begin in 15 degrees 20 minutes S., and end in lat. 15 degrees 55 minutes S., the difference of latitude is therefore 35 minutes.  The river runs in this space nearly north and south, till we pass Malango; so the entire distance is under 40 miles.  The principal Cataracts are five in number, and are called Pamofunda or Pamozima, Morewa, Panoreba or Tedzané, Pampatamanga, and Papekira.  Besides these, three or four smaller ones might be mentioned; as, for instance, Mamvira, where in our ascent we first met the broken water, and heard that gushing sound which, from the interminable windings of some 200 miles of river below, we had come to believe the tranquil Shiré could never make.  While these lesser cataracts descend at an angle of scarcely 20 degrees, the greater fall 100 feet in 100 yards, at an angle of about 45 degrees, and one at an angle of 70 degrees.  One part of Pamozima is perpendicular, and, when the river is in flood, causes a cloud of vapour to ascend, which, in our journey to Lake Shirwa, we saw at a distance of at least eight miles.  The entire descent from the Upper to the Lower Shiré is 1200 feet.  Only on one spot in all that distance is the current moderate—namely, above Tedzané.  The rest is all rapid, and much of it being only fifty or eighty yards wide, and rushing like a mill-race, it gives the impression of water-power, sufficient to drive all the mills in Manchester, running to waste.  Pamofunda, or Pamozima, has a deep shady grove on its right bank.  When we were walking alone through its dark shade, we were startled by a shocking smell like that of a dissecting-room; and on looking up saw dead bodies in mats suspended from the branches of the trees, a mode of burial somewhat similar to that which we subsequently saw practised by the Parsees in their “towers of silence” at Poonah, near Bombay.  The name Pamozima means, “the departed spirits or gods”—a fit name for a place over which, according to the popular belief, the disembodied souls continually hover.

The rock lowest down in the series is dark reddish-grey syenite.  This seems to have been an upheaving agent, for the mica schists above it are much disturbed.  Dark trappean rocks full of hornblende have in many places burst through these schists, and appear in nodules on the surface.  The highest rock seen is a fine sandstone of closer grain than that at Tette, and quite metamorphosed where it comes into contact with the igneous rocks below it.  It sometimes gives place to quartz and reddish clay schists, much baked by heat.  This is the usual geological condition on the right bank of the Cataracts.  On the other side we pass over masses of porphyritic trap, in contact with the same mica schists, and these probably give to the soil the great fertility we observed.  The great body of the mountains is syenite.  So much mica is washed into the river, that on looking attentively on the stream one sees myriads of particles floating and glancing in the sun; and this, too, even at low water.

It was the 15th of August before the men returned from the ship, accompanied by Mr. Rae and the steward of the “Pioneer.”  They brought two oxen, one of which was instantly slaughtered to put courage into all hearts, and some bottles of wine, a present from Waller and Alington.  We never carried wine before, but this was precious as an expression of kindheartedness on the part of the donors.  If one attempted to carry either wine or spirits, as a beverage, he would require a whole troop of followers for nothing else.  Our greatest luxury in travelling was tea or coffee.  We never once carried sugar enough to last a journey, but coffee is always good, while the sugarless tea is only bearable, because of the unbearable gnawing feeling of want and sinking which ensues if we begin to travel in the mornings without something warm in the stomach.  Our drink generally was water, and if cool, nothing can equal it in a hot climate.  We usually carried a bottle of brandy rolled up in our blankets, but that was used only as a medicine; a spoonful in hot water before going to bed, to fend off a chill and fever.  Spirits always do harm, if the fever has fairly begun; and it is probable that brandy-and-water has to answer for a good many of the deaths in Africa.

Mr. Rae had made gratifying progress in screwing together the “Lady Nyassa.”  He had the zealous co-operation of three as fine steady workmen as ever handled tools; and, as they were noble specimens of English sailors, we would fain mention the names of men who are an honour to the British navy—John Reid, John Pennell, and Richard Wilson.  The reader will excuse our doing so, but we desire to record how much they were esteemed, and how thankful we felt for their good behaviour.  The weather was delightfully cool; and, with full confidence in those left behind, it was with light hearts we turned our faces north.  Mr. Rae accompanied us a day in front; and, as all our party had earnestly advised that at least two Europeans should be associated together on the journey, the steward was at the last moment taken.  Mr. Rae returned to get the “Lady Nyassa” ready for sea; and, as she drew less water than the “Pioneer,” take her down to the ocean in October.  One reason for taking the steward is worth recording.  Both he and a man named King, 5 who, though only a leading stoker in the Navy, had been a promising student in the University of Aberdeen, had got into that weak bloodless-looking state which residence in the lowlands without much to do or think about often induces.  The best thing for this is change and an active life.  A couple of days’ march only as far as the Mukuru-Madsé, infused so much vigour into King that he was able to walk briskly back.  Consideration for the steward’s health led to his being selected for this northern journey, and the measure was so completely successful that it was often, in the hard march, a subject of regret that King had not been taken too.  A removal of only a hundred yards is sometimes so beneficial that it ought in severe cases never to be omitted.

Our object now was to get away to the N.N.W., proceed parallel with Lake Nyassa, but at a considerable distance west of it, and thus pass by the Mazitu or Zulus near its northern end without contact—ascertain whether any large river flowed into the Lake from the west—visit Lake Moelo, if time permitted, and collect information about the trade on the great slave route, which crosses the Lake at its southern end, and at Tsenga and Kota-kota.  The Makololo were eager to travel fast, because they wanted to be back in time to hoe their fields before the rains, and also because their wives needed looking after.

In going in the first instance N.E. from the uppermost Cataract, we followed in a measure the great bend of the river towards the foot of Mount Zomba.  Here we had a view of its most imposing side, the west, with the plateau some 3000 feet high, stretching away to its south, and Mounts Chiradzuru and Mochiru towering aloft to the sky.  From that goodly highland station, it was once hoped by the noble Mackenzie, who, for largeness of heart and loving disposition, really deserved to be called the “Bishop of Central Africa,” that light and liberty would spread to all the interior.  We still think it may be a centre for civilizing influences; for any one descending from these cool heights, and stepping into a boat on the Upper Shiré, can sail three hundred miles without a check into the heart of Africa.

We passed through a tract of country covered with mopane trees, where the hard baked soil refused to let the usual thick crops of grass grow; and here we came upon very many tracks of buffaloes, elephants, antelopes, and the spoor of one lion.  An ox we drove along with us, as provision for the way, was sorely bitten by the tsetse.  The effect of the bite was, as usual, quite apparent two days afterwards, in the general flaccidity of the muscles, the drooping ears, and looks of illness.  It always excited our wonder that we, who were frequently much bitten too by the same insects, felt no harm from their attacks.  Man shares the immunity of the wild animals.

Finding a few people on the evening of the 20th of August, who were supporting a wretched existence on tamarinds and mice, we ascertained that there was no hope of our being able to buy food anywhere nearer than the Lakelet Pamalombé, where the Ajawa chief, Kaiñka, was now living; but that plenty could be found with the Maravi female chief, Nyango.  We turned away north-westwards, and struck the stream Ribvé-ribvé, or Rivi-rivi, which rises in the Maravi range, and flows into the Shiré.

As the Rivi-rivi came from the N.W. we continued to travel along its banks, until we came to people who had successfully defended themselves against the hordes of the Ajawa.  By employing the men of one village to go forward and explain who we were to the next, we managed to prevent the frightened inhabitants from considering us a fresh party of Ajawa, or of Portuguese slaving agents.  Here they had cultivated maize, and were willing to sell, but no persuasion could induce them to give us guides to the chieftainess, Nyango.  They evidently felt that we were not to be trusted; though, as we had to certify to our own character, our companions did not fail “to blow our own trumpet,” with blasts in which modesty was quite out of the question.  To allay suspicion, we had at last to refrain from mentioning the lady’s name.

It would be wearisome to repeat the names of the villages we passed on our way to the north-west.  One was the largest we ever saw in Africa, and quite deserted, with the usual sad sight of many skeletons lying about.  Another was called Tette.  We know three places of this name, which fact shows it to be a native word; it seems to mean a place where the water rushes over rocks.  A third village was called Chipanga (a great work), a name identical with the Shupanga of the Portuguese.  This repetition of names may indicate that the same people first took these epithets in their traditional passage from north to south.

At this season of the year the nights are still cold, and the people, having no crops to occupy their attention, do not stir out till long after the sun is up.  At other times they are off to their fields before the day dawns, and the first sound one hears is the loud talking of men and women, in which they usually indulge in the dark to scare off beasts by the sound of the human voice.  When no work is to be done, the first warning of approaching day is the hemp-smoker’s loud ringing cough.