July, 1874The Luama is a large and important affluent of the Lualaba and rises in the mountains of Ugoma, a short distance from the Tanganyika and not far from the sources of the Lugumba and Lubumba. The latter, after a considerable detour, unites with the Luama about thirty miles above the point at which we crossed. The river has a very meandering course with many affluents and backwaters in which large numbers of fish are caught by the women.

Across each small stream or backwater dams are built of hurdle-work with conical openings at intervals, something like the entrance to a wire rattrap. When the waters begin to subside the fish endeavour to pass through these dams to the perennial streams.

The women then go fishing in the following manner. Doffing their grass-cloth aprons and replacing them with leaves, they take enormous baskets - some seven feet long, two feet six inches deep, and two feet wide in the middle - made of close mat-like work of split cane. These they set under the openings in the dams, which are then unfastened whilst some of the dark sportswomen go into the stream and drive the terrified fish towards he dam. The fish, seeing no chance of escape save by these holes, jump through into the baskets ready for their reception.

The fisherwomen seemed to think it great fun and enjoyed themselves immensely, shrieking, screaming and laughing the whole while.

Leaving the banks of the Luama we forded an affluent - the Lulwu, thirty yards in width and four feet in depth - and marching two miles further reached the bend of the Luama where we had arranged to cross it.

Canoes were here in readiness, but as there were only three the work of getting the caravan over occupied some time, for the river was fully one hundred yards in width and eight to ten feet deep in the middle and had steep banks.

Whilst we were thus engaged at 9h. 10m. local mean time, there was a slight shock of earthquake; a low rumbling sound and a faint though distinctly perceptible tremor of the ground passing from E.N.E. to W.S.W.

A large number of hippopotami were blowing in mid-stream on our reaching the river, so I occupied myself by firing at them. One, getting a bullet and shell in his head in rapid succession, sank, and the rest cleared out, which was a very desirable result since they often hog up underneath a canoe in deep water and heave it right out, capsizing all the occupants. The canoes bore marks of the tusks of these brutes, who look upon them as intruders and often attack them wantonly.

By the time the caravan had been ferried over the sun was very powerful and it was too late to proceed further, so we camped in a small scattered village about a mile from the river.

Although they afterwards became common, I here saw for the first time large platforms on which were stored huge bundles of grass ready for thatching the huts on the approach of the rainy season. The two centre poles of the platform, which were about twenty feet higher than the others, were connected with a square meshed net made of strips of bark. At each intersection of these strips bunches of matama and Indian corn were tied, the grain by these means being stored without a possibility of its heating as it sometimes does if placed in close granaries before it is perfectly ripe. But, en revanche, the birds carry off immense quantities from these open-air stores.

Our next camp was at Kisimbika, the road to this place being along the right bank of the Luama, and across many dry beds of watercourses with sides and bottoms formed of very thin strata of a sort of shale with occasional outcrops of ironstone (hæmatite).

All the country around was either already burnt or burning, and at night the roar of the immense grass fires could be heard for a distance of three or four miles and the whole sky was lighted up by the blaze.

These huge fires often occasion slight partial showers of rain, the enormous up-draught causing the warm air to rush to a cooler level where the moisture is condensed and falls in the form of rain.

From Kisimbika we went forward until the 17th of July without any long halts. We camped nightly in the villages, much to the disgust of the natives, who were treated in an overbearing manner by the traders and their men.

Relying on their gunpowder-strength, the traders gave their men nothing with which to purchase food but told them to steal what they wanted themselves and also to bring in provisions for their masters.

The natives stood aloof or looked on sullenly whilst these blackguards robbed their granaries and their mortars and other articles of household furniture to make fires for cooking the stolen food. The only approach they made towards communicating with us was to propose that the caravan should join them in attacking other villages in order to obtain slaves.

I gave my men extra rations to prevent their thieving, and in two or three cases paid natives who complained of them, and I treated the offenders to a sound flogging to show that I, as an Englishman, had no intention of making my way through the country by means of looting and force.

Yet I fear when my back was turned they were fully as bad as the others. Bombay always persisted that they never stole anything whatever, but I sometimes heard from Jumah that Bombay himself was not entirely guiltless.

On July the 18th we crossed the Lulindi, a broad stream which must be unfordable in flood.

At a height of twenty feet above the water there hung a very cleverly constructed suspension bridge. Four large cables of creepers were fastened to the trunks of trees, one pair about four feet higher than the other, and to these cables were secured other creepers from the tops of the loftiest trees on each side of the stream, while horizontal guys prevented the bridge from swaying about. Across the lower pair of cables sticks were laid to form a roadway. These were lashed in their places and wattled in with creepers, while a large network of the same connected the upper and lower cables on each side of the bridge.

Altogether it was a very ingenious and effective structure and rather astonished me, more especially as I had never seen any similar construction in Africa, nor indeed did I meet with another.

Karungu, at which we camped, was a large town, or more properly group of villages lying on the slope of a hill, and it was arranged that we should halt here for a day before starting straight away for Kwakasongo, an Arab settlement on the road to Nyangwé.

As I was sitting the next morning quietly reading and writing, I heard musketry-fire and a great disturbance in the Arab camp and saw the natives flying in every direction, pursued by the traders' men. Matters had evidently come to a crisis and I therefore collected all my men and ordered them, under pain of instant and severe punishment, neither to leave the camp nor to fire at the natives unless driven to do so in self-defence. I then went to Muinyi Hassani to enquire the cause of the row, and found him all excitement and in a great fright. The story was this.

The natives of villages at which we had camped since leaving the Luama had been following us with the hope of having an opportunity of attacking us in return for the injuries they had experienced at the hands of the caravan. In order to turn the tables and bring matters to a head, two chiefs had ordered something to be stolen from the Arabs, knowing that they would not hesitate to demand its restoration and that a palaver would then take place.

As anticipated, the Arabs sent some messages respecting the theft, whereupon the chiefs came to the camp and, confident in the numbers of natives lurking in ambush in the neighbouring woods, refused to restore the stolen property - a small bark box full of beads - unless payment was made for everything that had been stolen and destroyed in their villages.

Muinyi Hassani refused to accede to this and demanded that the box should be returned unconditionally. The chiefs replied that if Muinyi Hassani and his people wanted it they had better try to get it back by force. Then rising to go away, they were treacherously shot down by some armed Wanyamwési.

I told Muinyi Hassani I should defend myself if attacked, but since he was so entirely in the wrong I would not allow a single man to put his foot outside my camp to assist in any aggression against the natives.

By this time many surrounding villages were in flames and the pagazi were returning from the work of destruction, driving herds of goats and sheep before them and bringing in unfortunate women and children as captives; for the natives, notwithstanding their overwhelming numbers, would not face the Arabs' muskets.

In the afternoon however they began to assemble in greater numbers and I tried to persuade Muinyi Hassani to make peace; but the attempt only ended in another row. During the day, Kamwassa, son of Manyara, a chief who was friendly with the Arabs, came into our camp and I endeavoured to enlist his influence in inducing the natives to listen to ocertures of peace. Still nothing could then be done to attain so desirable a result.

Many alarms were raised in the night and some guns were fired, but no fighting took place; and in the morning when crowds of people had gathered round the camp, shouting and yelling, Kanwassa urged them to listen to terms.

I believe the Arabs would have continued fighting had I not been there; but they said, "We have an Englishman in the camp; he will give us a bad name to his consul at Zanzibar;" and as they all entertain a great respect for our consul - looking upon him as superior to every one but their own Sultan, with whom they deem him almost on an equality - my presence had some weight in checking further outrage and hostilities.

The palaver was opened by deputies from the natives and traders goint to the opposite banks of a small stream near the camp, and then meeting in the middle and washing each other's faces. Then the native came over to our side of the stream and some of the chiefs "made brothers" with people selected from amongst the caravan. The brotherhood business having been completed, some pen-and-ink marks were made on a piece of paper, which, together with a charge of powder, was put into a kettle full of water. All hands then drank of the decoction, the natives being told that it was a very great medicine.

Peace having been concluded, my next efforts were directed towards obtaining the release of the prisoners.

To this there was a very strong opposition; but I insisted on it and in the end it was arranged that ransom should be paid for them. Otherwise the natives might have thought we were afraid of them and would have attacked us further on the road.

On leaving here we had a long and tiring march through many villages, and the caravan was much hampered by the goats - received as ransom for the unfortunate captives - constantly running off into the jungle.

When we camped I found some slaves captured at Karungu still in the caravan, upon which I demanded that they should be set at liberty.

This led to a stormy discussion with Muinyi Hassani, who was not so anxious about the presence of my men now we had passed through the worst of Manyuéma. But I threatened him with all the terrors of the Sultan and English consul, and finally I said I should set the captives free by force if necessary. I told him plainly that I did not and could not interfere with the buying and selling of slaves by him and his friends, or with their seizing them by the strong arm when alone; but I was determined that the English colours, which had brought freedom to so many on both coasts of Africa, should not be disgraced in the centre of the continent.

In the end the slaves were set at liberty and a hollow peace was patched up between us; but I decided to have nothing further to do with Muinyi Hassani on reaching Nyangwé.

The following day we arrived at the village of Manyara, standing amongst many others over which he was really though not nominally the chief.

All had two or three foundries in them, upwards of thirty feet long by twenty wide with low walls and an enormously high roof. In the centre was a pit, six feet wide, four deep, and twenty long, rather shallower at one end than the other. Across this, about six feet from the shallow end, was built a clay furnace four feet wide. The smaller of the two divisions of the pit was used as a stoke-hole, whilst the ore and slag ran into the other, and round the sides were small divisions containing charcoal and iron ore.

They sometimes used as many as a dozen pair of bellows at one time in order to make a sufficient blast. Their bellows are formed of two upright and parallel shallow wooden cylinders with vents leading into one nozzle, which is protected by clay from the effects of the fire. These cylinders are covered with grass cloth having a stick three feet long fastened into the centre, and are worked by holding one stick in each hand and moving them up and down alternately as fast as possible. By this means a good and continuous blast is produced.

After smelting, the iron is worked by smiths into small pieces weighing about two pounds and shaped like two cones joined together at the base, and a piece or rod the size of a large knitting needle projects from both ends. In this form the metal is hawked about for sale.

Small open sheds are used as smithies, and the anvils are made of stone, but small hammers are of iron. Those of stone are provided with two loops of rope to serve as handles, while the iron hammers are simply grasped in hand and are without handles.

The dress of the people had now changed somewhat, the men mostly wearing kilts. Heads were still plastered with clay, but not so elaborately as amongst the first people I saw in Manyuéma.

The women wore round their waists a small strip of leather ornamented with iron and copper beads, and through this and between their legs a piece of rough bark cloth was passed, the ends being allowed to hang down before and behind.

They shaved the top of their heads, leaving only a sort of trellis-pattern of very short hair, and a bunch of tringlets hung down the backs of their necks.

A friend of Syde's and some native chiefs met us here, and they treated us to so many extraordinary stories that it was impossible to rely upon anything they said.

One of the chiefs was very elaborately adorned with kilt, cap, and scarf of variegated grass cloth, and was followed by men carrying shields and spears, whilst two others brought up the rear with an enormous drum slung on a pole. The hindmost one performed vigorously upon this instrument when approaching the village.

Two days' marching from Manyara brought us to Kwakasongo. On our way we passed a hill composed almost entirely of a black speculum iron ore, and a curious mount with precipitous cliffs, which formed one side of it, rose sheer out of the plain.

At Kwakasongo there is an Arab settlement of some size, three white Arabs besides many half-castes and Wamerima being there. They have good houses and live comfortably, whilst they send out their caravans composed of slaves and Wayamwési pagazi. One man alone employed six hundred Wayamwési, all armed with guns.

These fellows get little or no pay, but are allowed to loot the country all round in search of subsistence and slaves. Some of the slaves they keep for themselves, giving their employers a sufficient number in return for the powder supplied to enable them to oppress the natives.

The Arab who had six hundred Wayamwési possessed upwards of fiteen tons of good ivory in his store-houses and was waiting for the road between Ujiji and Unyanyembé to be reported clear before sending it to the coast. Some others also had a good amount, but I found my friend (?) Syde was a needy beggar, and his stories about possessing great influence here were myths.

As usual, the Arabs were very civil and kind, and we could not tear ourselves away from their hospitalities under a week.

Muinyi Hassani meanwhile remained camped in a neighbouring village nursing himself through a bad attack of fever. I felt bound to doctor him notwithstanding our row about the slaves, and went two miles out and two back every morning and evening to look after him. But I never received so much as a word of thanks for my trouble, and I imagine my patient had neither forgotten nor forgiven my interference in the slave question.

August, 1874We left Kwakasongo on the 1st of August, and after two marches came in sight of the mighty Lualaba.

From a bluff overhanging the river I obtained my first view of the stream - a strong and sweeping current of turbid yellow water fully a mile wide and flowing at the rate of three or four knots an hour, with many islands much like the eyots on the Thames lying in its course.

The larger ones were well-wooded and inhabited by the Wagenya, a tribe holding all the islands and a long strip on the left bank, and as the sole proprietors of canoes having the whole carrying trade of the river in their hands.

Canoes were numerous, and flocks of water-fowl winging their way from sand-bank to sand-bank in search of food gave life to the scene. To remind us of the dangers of the stream there were enormous heads of hippopotami blowing and snorting, and here and there the long scaly back of a crocodile floating almost flush with the water.

Just before coming upon the river we passed villages in which the huts had reverted to the shape of those in Uguhha and Ubûdjwa. Near them were regularly planted groves of oil-palms surrounded by hedges of prickly cactus, and at the entrance on each side huts were built fot the guardians of the plantation. These groves were also protected from the attacks of elephants and other wild beasts by innumerable pitfalls dug round about them, which rendered it necessary for the passer-by to be very wary in his walking.

On the evening of my arrival I entered into an agreement with some natives to convey me with a portion of my stores and men to Nyangwé by boat, whilst the remainder went by land.

Muinyi Bokhari, the poor grass-eating old man, died during the night and was at once buried by fire-light with very little ceremony.

When I went to the brink of the river early in the morning, not a canoe was to be seen. Shortly afterwards they began to pass from one island to another and to haul up and set fishing-traps. But not one came near us until about ten o'clock, when by dint of beckoning and shouting some men were induced to come across from an island in the middle of the stream and after a long palaver brought three canoes. These I hired and paid for on the spot and started at once for Nyangwé.

The passage down the river was rapid and pleasant owing to the swift current and the beauty of the scenery.

On the left bank the shore rose gradually till it culminated in a range of wooded hills ten or twelve miles distant; while the right bank rose abruptly in small cliffs crowned by hanging woods, and here and there broken by the embouchure of one of the numerous affluents of the giant stream. Islands, populous and wooded, were passed in constant succession.

From flocks of duck feeding on the numerous sand-banks I managed to bag two or three couple, and found them almost precisely like an English wild duck, except in colour. The body was white speckled with brown; wings, head, and tail, black, shot with greenish blue.

In the afternoon the canoe-men put in at a fishing village on the right bank and declared their intention of halting. I told them they might stop if they pleased, but I and the canoes were going on to Nyangwé; for I well knew that if we camped neither canoes nor men would be forthcoming the next morning. Seeing that I was determined, the men consented to go on.

At sunset I noticed some large huts on a bluff over the river. This was the commencement of the Arab settlement of Nyangwé, and a landing-place was just below.

Jumping ashore I went into the settlement, and my appearance rather astonished the people; for they had heard nothing of our approach and could not imagine where a solitary white man came from.

The news of my arrival was at once communicated to Habed ibn Salim, a fine white-headed old Arab, commonly known as Tanganyika, and he came running out of his house, where he had been performing his evening devotions, to ascertain what it could mean.

A few words explained matters and we very shortly became great friends.

My tent was pitched close to his house and the verandah of a large new building was placed at my service, and stowage dor my stores and houseroom for my followers were supplied without delay. A mess of smoking hot curry was also soon put before me; and very acceptable it was, for I had taken nothing that day excepting a cup of corn coffee before starting in the morning.

At last, then, I was in Nyangwé ! And now the question before me was, What success would attend the attempt at tracing the river to the sea?