Stanley's Adventures in the Wilds of Africa Part 3

Stanley had now traveled one hundred and nineteen miles in fourteen marches, occupying one entire month lacking one day, and making, on an average, four miles a day. This was slow work. The rainy season now set in, and day after day it was a regular down-pour. Stanley was compelled to halt, while disgusting insects, beetles, bugs, wasps, centipedes, worms and almost every form of the lower animal life, took possession of his tent, and gave him the first real taste of African life.

On the morning of the 23d of April, he says the rain held up for a short time and he prepared to cross the river, now swollen and turbid. The bridge over which he carried his baggage was of the most primitive kind, while the donkeys had to swim. The pa.s.sage occupied five hours, yet it was happily accomplished without any casualties. Reloading his baggage and wringing out his clothes, he set out again, leaving the river and following a path that led off in a northerly direction.

With his heart light and cheerful by being once more on the march and out of the damp and hateful valley, which was made still more hateful by the disgusting insect life that filled his tent, he ascended to higher ground, and pa.s.sed with his caravan through successive glades, which opened one after another between forest clumps of trees hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks and scattered mountains. "Now and then," he says, "as we crested low eminences, we caught sight of the blue Usagara Mountains, bounding the horizon westerly and northerly, and looked down on a vast expanse of plain which lay between. At the foot of the lengthy slope, well watered by bubbling springs and mountain rills, we found a comfortable Khembi with well-made huts, which the natives call Simbo. It lies just two hours, or five miles, northwest from the Ungerengeri crossing."

We here get incidentally the rapidity with which he traveled, where the face of the country and the roads gave him the greatest facilities for quick marching, two "hours or five miles," he says, which makes his best time two and a half miles an hour. In this open, beautiful country no villages or settlements could be seen, though he was told there were many in the mountain inclosures, the inhabitants of which were false, dishonest and murderous.

On the morning of the 24th, as they were about to leave, Simbo, his Arab cook, was caught for the fifth time pilfering, and it being proved against him, Stanley ordered a dozen lashes to be inflicted on him as a punishment, and Shaw was ordered to administer them. The blows being given through his clothes, did not hurt him much, but the stern decree that he, with his donkey and baggage, should be expelled from camp and turned adrift in the forests of Africa, drove him wild, and leaving donkey and everything else, he rushed out of camp and started for the mountains. Stanley, wishing only to frighten him, and having no idea of leaving the poor fellow to perish at the hands of the natives, sent a couple of his men to recall him. But it was of no use; the poor, frightened wretch kept on for the mountains, and was soon out of sight altogether. Believing he would think better of it and return, his donkey was tied to a tree near the camping-ground, and the caravan started forward and having pa.s.sed through the Makata Valley, which afterward became of sorrowful memory, it halted at Rehenneko at the base of the Usagara Mountains.

This valley is a wilderness covered with bamboo, and palm, and other trees, with but one village on its broad expanse, through which the hartbeest, the antelope and the zebra roam. In the lower portions, the mud was so deep that it took ten hours to go ten miles, and the company was compelled to encamp in the woods when but half-way across. Bombay with the cart did not get in till near midnight, and he brought the dolorous tale that he had lost the property-tent, an axe, besides coats, shirts, beads, cloth, pistol and hatchet and powder. He said he had left them a little while that he might help lift the cart out of a mud-hole and during his absence they disappeared. This told to Stanley at midnight roused all his wrath, and he poured a perfect storm of abuse on the cringing Arab, and he took occasion to overhaul his conduct from the start. The cloth if ever found, he said, would be spoiled, the axe, which would be needed at Ujiji to construct a boat, was an irreparable loss, to say nothing of the pistol, powder and hatchet, and worse than all, he had not brought back the cook, whom he knew there was no intention to abandon, and Stanley then and there told him he would degrade him from office and put another man in his place, and then dismissed him, with orders to return at daylight and find the missing property. Four more were now dispatched after the missing cook, and Stanley halted three days to wait the return of his men. In the meantime, provisions ran low, and though there was plenty of game, it was so wild that but little could be obtained, he being able to secure but two potfuls in two days' shooting, but these were quail, grouse and pigeons. On the fourth day, becoming exceedingly anxious, he dispatched Shaw and two more soldiers after the missing men. Toward night he returned, sick with ague, bringing the soldiers with him, but not the missing cook. The soldiers reported that they had marched immediately back to Simbo and having searched in vain in the vicinity for the missing man, they went to the bridge over the river to inquire there.

They were told, so they said, that a white donkey had crossed the river in another place driven by some Washensi. Believing the cook had been murdered by those men who were making off with his property, they hastened to the walled town and told the warriors of the western gate that two Washensi, who had murdered a man belonging to the white man, must have pa.s.sed the place, with a white donkey. They were immediately conducted to the sultana, who had much of the spirit of her father, to whom they told their story. Of the results, Stanley says:

"The sultana demanded of the watchmen of the towers if they had seen the two Washensi with the white donkey. The watchmen answered in the affirmative, upon which she at once dispatched twenty of her musketeers in pursuit to Muhalleh. These returned before night, bringing with them the two Washensi and the donkey, with the cook's entire kit. The sultana, who is evidently possessed of her father's energy, with all his l.u.s.t for wealth, had my messengers, the two Washensi, the cook's donkey and property at once brought before her. The two Washensi were questioned as to how they became possessed of the donkey and such a store of Kisunga clothes, cloth and beads; to which they answered that they had found the donkey tied to a tree with the property on the ground close to it; that seeing no owner or claimant anywhere in the neighborhood, they thought they had a right to it, and accordingly had taken it with them. My soldiers were then asked if they recognized the donkey and property, to which questions they unhesitatingly made answer that they did. They further informed Her Highness that they were not only sent after the donkey, but also after the owner, who had deserted their master's service; that they would like to know from the Washensi what they had done with him. Her Highness was also anxious to know what the Washensi had done with the Hindi, and accordingly, in order to elicit the fact, she charged them with murdering him, and informed them she but wished to know what they had done with the body.

"The Washensi declared most earnestly that they had spoken the truth, that they had never seen any such man as described; and if the sultana desired, they would swear to such a statement. Her Highness did not wish them to swear to what in her heart she believed to be a lie, but she would chain them and send them in charge of a caravan to Zanzibar to Lyed Burghosh, who would know what to do with them. Then turning to my soldiers, she demanded to know why the Musungu had not paid the tribute for which she had sent her chiefs. The soldiers could not answer, knowing nothing of such concerns of their master's. The heiress of Kisabengo, true to the character of her robber sire, then informed my trembling men that, as the Musungu had not paid the tribute, she would now take it; their guns should be taken from them, together with that of the cook; the cloth and beads found on the donkey she would also take, the Hindi's personal clothes her chiefs should retain, while they themselves should be chained until the Musungu himself should return and take them by force.

"And as she threatened, so was it done. For sixteen hours my soldiers were in chains in the market-place, exposed to the taunts of the servile populace. It chanced the next day, however, that Sheikh Thani, whom I met at Kingaru, and had since pa.s.sed by five days, had arrived at Limbamwanni, and proceeding to the town to purchase provisions for the crossing of the Makata wilderness, saw my men in chains and at once recognized them as being in my employ. After hearing their story, the good-hearted sheikh sought the presence of the sultana, and informed her that she was doing very wrong--a wrong that could only terminate in blood. 'The Musungu is strong,' he said, 'very strong. He has got ten guns which shoot forty times without stopping, carrying bullets half an hour's distance; he has got several guns which carry bullets that burst and tear a man in pieces. He could go to the top of that mountain and kill every man, woman and child in the town before one of your soldiers could reach the top. The road will then be stopped, Lyed Burghosh will march against your country, the Wadoe and Wakami will come and take revenge on what is left; and the place that your father made so strong will know the Waseguhha no more. Set free the Musungu's soldiers; give them their food and grain for the Musungu; return the guns to the men and let them go, for the white man may even now be on his way here.'

"The exaggerated report of my power, and the dread picture sketched by the Arab sheikh, produced good effect, inasmuch as Kingaru and the Mabrukis were at once released from durance, furnished with food sufficient to last our caravan four days, and one gun with its accoutrements and stock of bullets and powder, was returned, as well as the cook's donkey, with a pair of spectacles, a book in Malabar print and an old hat which belonged to one whom we all now believed to be dead. The sheikh took charge of the soldiers as far as Simbo; and it was in his camp, partaking largely of rice and ghee, that Shaw found them, and the same bountiful hospitality was extended to him and his companions."

Stanley was now filled with keen regrets for the manner in which he had punished the cook, and mentally he resolved that no matter what a member of his caravan should do in the future he would never drive him out of camp to perish by a.s.sa.s.sins. Still he would not yet believe that the man was murdered. But he was furious at the treatment of his soldiers by the black Amazon of Limbamwanni, and the tribute she exacted, especially at the seizure of the guns, and if he had been near the place would have made reprisals. But he had already lost four days, and so, next morning, although the rain was coming down in torrents, he broke camp and set forth. Shaw was still sick, and so the whole duty of driving the floundering caravan devolved upon himself. As fast as one was flogged out of the mire in which he had stuck, another would fall in. It took two hours to cross the miry plain, though it was but a mile and a half wide. He was congratulating himself on having at last got over it, when he was confronted by a ditch which the heavy rains had converted into a stream breast deep. The donkeys had all to be unloaded, and led through the torrent, and loaded again on the farther side. They had hardly got under way when they came upon another stream, so deep that it could not be forded, over which they had to swim, and float across their baggage.

They then floundered on until they came to a bend of the river, where they pitched their camp, having made but six miles the whole day. This River Makata is only about forty feet in width in the dry season, but at this time it was a wide, turbid stream. Its sh.o.r.es, with its matted gra.s.s, decayed vegetable matter and reeking mists, seemed the very home of the ague and fever. It took five hours to cross it the next morning.

The rain then came down in such torrents that traveling became impossible, and the camp was pitched. Luckily this proved the last day of the rainy season.

It was now the 1st of May, and the expedition was in a pitiable plight.

Shaw was still sick, and one man was down with the small-pox. Bombay, too, was sick, and others complaining. Doctoring the sick as well as he knew how, and laying the whip l.u.s.tily on the backs of those who were shamming, Stanley at length got his caravan in motion and began to cross the Makata plain, now a swamp thirty-five miles broad. It was plash, plash, through the water in some places three or four feet deep, for two days, until they came in sight of the Rudewa River. Crossing a branch of this stream, a sheet of water five miles broad stretched out before the tired caravan. The men declared it could not be crossed, but Stanley determined to try, and after five hours of the most prostrating effort they reached dry ground. The animals, however, began to sicken from this day on, while Stanley himself was seized with dysentery caused by his exposure, and was brought to the verge of the grave. The expedition seemed about to end there on the borders of the Makata swamp.

On the 4th, they came to the important village of Rehenneko, the first near which they had encamped since entering the district of Usagara. It was a square, compact village, of about one thousand inhabitants, surrounded by a mud wall and composed of cane-topped huts, which the natives moved from place to place at pleasure. The peculiar ceremonies of the queen's court were very interesting to witness. They rested here four days to recruit. On the 8th, they started forward and began to ascend the mountain. Having reached the summit of the first range of hills, Stanley paused to survey the enchanting prospect. The broad valley of Makata stretched out before him, laced with streams sparkling in the sun, while over it waved countless palm-trees, and far away, blue in the distance, stretched a mighty range of mountains. "Turning our faces west," he says, "we found ourselves in a mountain world, fold rising above fold, peak behind peak, cone jostling cone; away to the north, to the west, to the south, the mountain tops rolled away like so many vitrified waves, not one adust or arid spot was visible in all this scene."

[Ill.u.s.tration: CEREMONIES OF THE QUEEN'S COURT.

As witnessed in the village of Rehenneko, in the district of Usagara.]

The change from the pestilential swamps, through which they had been so long floundering, was most grateful, but the animals suffered greatly, and before they reached their first camping-ground, two had given out.

The 9th, they descended into the valley of Mukondokno, and there struck the road traversed by Speke and Burton in 1817. Reaching the dirty village, Kiora, Stanley found there his third caravan, led by Farquhar.

By his debaucheries on the way he had made himself sick and brought his caravan into a sad condition. As he heard Stanley's voice, he came staggering out of his tent, a bloated ma.s.s of human flesh that never would have been recognized as the trim mate of the vessel that brought Stanley from India. After he examined him as to the cause of his illness, he questioned him about the condition of the property intrusted to his care. Not able to get an intelligent answer out of him, he resolved to overhaul the baggage. On examination, he found that he had spent enough for provisions on which to gormandize to have lasted eight months, and yet he had been on the route but two and a half months. If Stanley had not overtaken him, everything would have been squandered, and of all the bales of cloth he was to take to Unyanyembe not one bale would have been left. Stanley was sorely puzzled what to do with the miserable man. He would die if left at Kiora; he could not walk or ride far, and to carry him seemed well-nigh impossible.

On the 11th, however, the two caravans started forward, leaving Shaw to follow with one of the men. But he lagged behind, and had not reached the camp when it was roused next morning. Stanley at once dispatched two donkeys, one for the load that was on the cart and the other for Shaw, and with the messenger the following note: "_You will, upon the receipt of this order, pitch the cart into the nearest ravine, gully or river, as well as all the extra pack saddles; and come at once, for G.o.d's sake, for we must not starve here._" After waiting four hours, he went back himself and met them, the carrier with the cart on his head, and Shaw on the donkey, apparently ready, at the least jolt, to tumble off. They, however, pushed on, and arrived at Madete at four o'clock. Crossing the river about three, and keeping on, they, on the 14th, from the top of a hill caught sight of Lake Ugenlo. The outline of it, he says, resembles England without Wales. It is some three miles long by two wide, and is the abode of great numbers of hippopotami, while the buffalo, zebra, boar and antelope come here by night to quench their thirst. Its bosom is covered with wild fowl of every description. Being obliged to halt here two days on account of the desertion of the cooper, with one of the carbines, Stanley explored the lake, and tried several shots at the lumbering hippopotami without effect.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SHOOTING HIPPOPOTAMI NEAR LAKE UGENLO.]

The deserter having returned of his own free will, the caravan started forward, cursed by the slow progress of the peevish, profane and violent Shaw. The next day at breakfast, a scene occurred that threatened serious consequences. When Shaw and Farquhar took their places, Stanley saw by their looks that something was wrong. The breakfast was a roast quarter of goat, stewed liver, some sweet potatoes, pancakes and coffee.

"Shaw," said Stanley, "please carve and serve Farquhar." Instead of doing so, he exclaimed, in an insulting tone, "What dog's meat is this?"

"What do you mean?" demanded Stanley. "I mean," replied the fellow, "that it is a downright shame the way you treat us," and then he complained of being compelled to walk and help himself, instead of having servants to wait upon him as he was promised. All this was said in a loud, defiant tone, interlarded with frequent oaths and curses of the "d.a.m.ned expedition," etc. When he had got through, Stanley, fixing his black, resolute eye on him, said: "Listen to me, Shaw, and you, Farquhar, ever since you left the coast have had donkeys to ride. You have had servants to wait upon you; your tents have been set up for you; your meals have been cooked for you; you have eaten with me of the same food I have eaten; you have received the same treatment I have received.

But now all Farquhar's donkeys are dead; seven of my own have died, and I have had to throw away a few things, in order to procure carriage for the most important goods. Farquhar is too sick to walk, he must have a donkey to ride; in a few days all our animals will be dead, after which I must have over twenty more pagosi to take up the goods or wait weeks and weeks for carriage. Yet, in the face of these things, you can grumble, and curse, and swear at me at my own table. Have you considered well your position? Do you realize where you are? Do you know that you are my servant, sir, not my companion?"

"Servant, be ----" said he.

Just before Mr. Shaw could finish his sentence he had measured his length on the ground.

"Is it necessary for me to proceed further to teach you?" said Stanley.

"I tell you what it is, sir," he said, raising himself up, "I think I had better go back. I have had enough, and I do not mean to go any farther with you. I ask my discharge from you."

"Oh, certainly. What--who is there? Bombay, come here."

After Bombay's appearance at the tent-door, Stanley said to him: "Strike this man's tent," pointing to Shaw; "he wants to go back. Bring his gun and pistol here to my tent, and take this man and his baggage two hundred yards outside of the camp, and there leave him."

In a few minutes his tent was down, his gun and pistol in Stanley's tent, and Bombay returned to make his report, with four men under arms.

"Now go, sir. You are at perfect liberty to go. These men will escort you outside of camp, and there leave you and your baggage."

He walked out, the men escorting him and carrying his baggage for him.

After breakfast, Stanley explained to Farquhar how necessary it was to be able to proceed; that he had had plenty of trouble, without having to think of men who were employed to think of him and their duties; that, as he (Farquhar) was sick, and would be probably unable to march for a time, it would be better to leave him in some quiet place, under the care of a good chief, who would, for a consideration, look after him until he got well. To all of which Farquhar agreed.

Stanley had barely finished speaking before Bombay came to the tent-door, saying: "Shaw would like to speak to you."

Stanley went out to the door of the camp, and there met Shaw, looking extremely penitent and ashamed. He commenced to ask pardon, and began imploring to be taken back, and promising that occasion to find fault with him again should never arise.

Stanley held out his hand, saying: "Don't mention it, my dear fellow.

Quarrels occur in the best of families. Since you apologize, there is an end of it."

That night, as Stanley was about falling asleep, he heard a shot, and a bullet tore through the tent a few inches above his body. He s.n.a.t.c.hed his revolver and rushed out from the tent, and asked the men around the watch-fires, "Who shot?" They had all jumped up, rather startled by the sudden report.

"Who fired that gun?"

One said the "Bana Mdogo"--little master.

Stanley lit a candle and walked with it to Shaw's tent.

"Shaw, did you fire?"

There was no answer. He seemed to be asleep, he was breathing so hard.

"Shaw! Shaw! did you fire that shot?"

"Eh--eh?" said he, suddenly awakening; "me?--me fire? I have been asleep."

Stanley's eye caught sight of his gun lying near him. He seized it--felt it--put his little finger down the barrel. The gun was warm; his finger was black from the burnt gunpowder.

"What is this?" he asked, holding his finger up; "the gun is warm; the men tell me you fired."

"Ah--yes," he replied, "I remember it. I dreamed I saw a thief pa.s.s my door, and I fired. Ah--yes--I forgot, I did fire. Why, what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," said Stanley. "But I would advise you, in future, in order to avoid all suspicion, not to fire into my tent; or, at least, so near me. I might get hurt, you know, in which case ugly reports would get about, and that, perhaps, would be disagreeable, as you are probably aware. Good-night."

All had their thoughts about this matter, but Stanley never uttered a word about it to any one until he met Livingstone. The doctor embodied his suspicions in the words: "He intended murder!"