# The Personal Life of David Livingstone/CHAPTER XIX

CHAPTER XIX.
FROM ZANZIBAR TO UJIJI.
A.D. 1866-1869.
Dr. Livingstone goes to mouth of Rovuma--His prayer--His company--His herd of animals--Loss of his buffaloes--Good spirits when setting out--Difficulties at Rovuma--Bad conduct of Johanna men--Dismissal of his Sepoys--Fresh horrors of slave-trade--Uninhabited tract--He reaches Lake Nyassa--Letter to his son Thomas--Disappointed hopes--His double aim, to teach natives and rouse horror of slave-trade--Tenor of religious addresses--Wikatami remains behind--Livingstone finds no altogether satisfactory station for commerce and missions--Question of the watershed--Was it worth the trouble?--Overruled for good to Africa--Opinion of Sir Bartle Frere--At Marenga's--The Johanna men leave in a body--Circulate rumor of his murder--Sir Roderick disbelieves it--Mr. E.D. Young sent out with Search Expedition--Finds proof against rumor--Livingstone half-starved--Loss of his goats--Review of 1866--Reflections on Divine Providence--Letter to Thomas--His dog drowned--Loss of his medicine-chest--He feels sentence of death passed on him--First sight of Lake Tanganyika--Detained at Chitimba's--Discovery of Lake Moero--Occupations during detention of 1867--Great privations and difficulties--Illness--Rebellion among his men--Discovery of Lake Bangweolo--Its oozy banks--Detention--Sufferings--He makes for Ujiji--Very severe illness in beginning of 1869--Reaches Ujiji--Finds his goods have been wasted and stolen--Most bitter disappointment--His medicines, etc., at Unyanyembe--Letter to Sultan of Zanzibar--Letters to Dr. Moffat and his daughter.
On the 19th of March, fortified by a firman from the Sultan to all his people, and praying the Most High to prosper him, "by granting him Influence in the eyes of the heathen, and blessing his intercourse with them," Livingstone left Zanzibar in H.M.S. "Penguin" for the mouth of the Rovuma. His company consisted of thirteen Sepoys, ten Johanna men, nine Nassick boys, two Shupanga men, and two Waiyau. Musa, one of the Johanna men, had been a sailor in the "Lady Nyassa"; Susi and Amoda, the Shupanga men, had been woodcutters for the "Pioneer"; and the two Waiyau lads, Wikatani and Chuma, had been among the slaves rescued in 1861, and had lived for some time at the mission station at Chibisa's. Besides these, he carried with him a sort of menagerie in a dhow--six camels, three buffaloes and a calf, two mules, and four donkeys. What man but Dr. Livingstone would have encumbered himself with such baggage, and for what conceivable purpose except the benefit of Africa? The tame buffaloes of India were taken that he might try whether, like the wild buffaloes of Africa, they would resist the bite of the tsetse-fly; the other animals for the same purpose. There were two words of which Livingstone might have said, as Queen Mary said of Calais, that at his death they would be found engraven on his heart--fever and tsetse; the one the great scourge of man, the other of beast, in South Africa. To help to counteract two such foes to African civilization no trouble or expense would have been judged too great. Already he had lost nine of his buffaloes at Zanzibar. It was a sad pity that owing to the ill-treatment of the remaining animals by his people, who turned out a poor lot, it could never be known conclusively whether the tsetse-bite was fatal to them or not.
In spite of all he had suffered in Africa, and though he was without the company of a single European, he had, in setting out, something of the exhilarating feeling of a young traveler starting on his first tour in Switzerland, deepened by the sense of nobility which there is in every endeavor to do good to others. "The mere animal pleasure of traveling in a wild unexplored country is very great.... The sweat of one's brow is no longer a curse when one works for God; it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a blessing." The Rovuma was found to have changed greatly since his last visit, so that he had to land his goods twenty-five miles to the north at Mikindany harbor, and find his way down to the river farther up. The toil was fitted to wear out the strongest of his men. Nothing could have been more grateful than the Sunday rest. Through his Nassick boys, he tried to teach the Makondé--a tribe that bore a very bad character, but failed; however, the people were wonderfully civil, and, contrary to all previous usage, neither inflicted fines nor made complaints, though the animals had done some damage to their corn. He set this down as an answer to his prayers for influence among the heathen.
His vexations, however, were not long of beginning. Both the Sepoy marines and the Nassick boys were extremely troublesome, and treated the animals abominably. The Johanna men were thieves. The Sepoys became so intolerable that after four months' trial he sent most of them back to the coast. It required an effort to resist the effect of such, things, owing to the tendency of the mind to brood over the ills of travel. The natives were not unkindly, but food was very scarce. As they advanced, the horrors of the slave-trade presented themselves in all their hideous aspects. Women were found dead, tied to trees, or lying in the path shot and stabbed, their fault having been inability to keep up with the party, while their amiable owners, to prevent them from becoming the property of any one else, put an end to their lives. In some instances the captives, yet in the slave-sticks, were found not quite dead. Brutality was sometimes seen in another form, as when some natives laughed at a poor boy suffering from a very awkward form of hernia, whose mother was trying to bind up the part. The slave-trade utterly demoralized the people; the Arabs bought whoever was brought to them, and the great extent of forest in the country favored kidnapping; otherwise the people were honest.
Farther on they passed through an immense uninhabited tract, that had once evidently had a vast population. Then, in the Waiyau country, west of Mataka's, came a splendid district 3400 feet above the sea, as well adapted for a settlement as Magomero, but it had taken them four months to get at it, while Magomero was reached in three weeks. The abandonment of that mission he would never cease to regret. As they neared Lake Nyassa, slave parties became more common. On the 8th August, 1866, they reached the lake, which seemed to Livingstone like an old familiar friend which he never expected to see again. He thanked God, bathed again in the delicious water, and felt quite exhilarated.
Writing to his son Thomas, 28th August, he says:
Resting at the lake, and working up journal, lunars, and altitudes, he hears of the arrival of an Englishman at Mataka's, with cattle for him, "who had two eyes behind as well as two in front--news enough for awhile." Zoology, botany, and geology engage his attention as usual. He tries to get across the lake, but cannot, as the slavers own all the dhows, and will neither lend nor sell to him; he has therefore to creep on foot round its southern end. Marks of destruction and desolation again shock the eye--skulls and bones everywhere. At the point where the Shiré leaves Nyassa, he could not but think of disappointed hopes--the death of his dear wife, and of the Bishop, the increasing vigor of the slave-trade, and the abandonment of the Universities Mission. But faith assured him of good times coming, though he might not live to see them. Would only he had seen through the vista of the next ten years! Bishop Tozer done with Africa, and Bishop Steere returning to the old neighborhood, and resuming the old work of the Universities Mission; and his own countrymen planted his name on the promontory on which he gazed so sorrowfully, training the poor natives in the arts of civilization, rearing Christian households among them, and proclaiming the blessed Gospel of the God of love!
Invariably as he goes along, Dr. Livingstone aims at two things: at teaching some of the great truths of Christianity, and rousing consciences on the atrocious guilt of the slave-trade. In connection with the former he discovers that his usual way of conducting divine service--by the reading of prayers--does not give ignorant persons any idea of an unseen Being; kneeling and praying with the eyes shut is better. At the foot of the lake he goes out of his way to remonstrate with Mukaté, one of the chief marauders of the district. The tenor of his addresses is in some degree shaped by the practices he finds so prevalent:
"We mention our relationship to our Father, the guilt of selling any of his children, the consequences:--_e.g._ it begets war, for as they don't like to sell their own, they steal from other villagers, who retaliate. Arabs and Waiyau, invited into the country by their selling, foster feuds,--wars and depopulation ensue. We mention the Bible--future state--prayer; advise union, that they would unite as one family to expel enemies, who came first as slave-traders, and ended by leaving the country a wilderness."
It was about this time that Wikatani, one of the two Waiyau boys who had been rescued from slavery, finding, as he believed or said, some brothers and sisters on the western shore of the lake, left Livingstone and remained with them. There had been an impression in some quarters, that, according to his wont, Livingstone had made him his slave; to show the contrary, he gave him his choice of remaining or going, and, when the boy chose to remain, he acquiesced.
Dr. Livingstone had ere now passed over the ground where, if anywhere, he might have hoped to find a station for a commercial and missionary settlement, independent of the Portuguese. In this hope he was rather disappointed. The only spot he refers to is the district west of Mataka's, which, however, was so difficult of access. Nearer the coast a mission might be established, and to this project his mind turned afterward; but it would not command the Nyassa district. On the whole he preferred the Zambesi and Shiré valley, with all their difficulties. But the Rovuma was not hopeless, and indeed, within the last few years, the Universities Mission has occupied the district successfully.
The geographical question of the watershed had now to be grappled with. It is natural to ask whether this question was of sufficient importance to engage his main energies, and justify the incalculable sacrifices undergone by him during the remaining six years of his life. First of all, we must remember, it was not his own scheme--it was pressed on him by Sir Roderick Murchison and the Geographical Society; and it may perhaps be doubted whether, had he foreseen the cost of the enterprise, he would have deemed the object worthy of the price. But ever and anon, he seemed to be close on what he was searching for, and certain to secure it by just a little further effort; while as often, like the cup of Tantalus, it was snatched from his grasp. Moreover, during a life-time of splendid self-discipline, he had been training himself to keep his promises, and to complete his tasks; nor could he in any way see it his duty to break the one or leave the other unfinished. He had undertaken to the Geographical Society to solve that problem, and he would do it if it could be done. Wherever he went he had always some opportunity to make known the father-hood of God and his love in Christ, although the seed he sowed seemed seldom to take root. Then he was gathering fresh information on the state of the country and the habits of the people. He was especially gathering information on the accursed slave-trade.
This question of the watershed, too, had fascinated his mind, for he had a strong impression that the real sources of the Nile were far higher than any previous traveler had supposed--far higher than Lake Victoria Nyanza, and that it would be a service to religion as well as science to discover the fountains of the stream on whose bosom, in the dawn of Hebrew history, Moses had floated in his ark of bulrushes. A strong impression lurked in his mind that if he should only solve that old problem he would acquire such influence that new weight would be given to his pleadings for Africa; just as, at the beginning of his career, he had wished for a commanding style of composition, to be able to rouse the attention of the world to that ill-treated continent.
He was strongly disposed to think that in the account of the sources given to Herodotus by the Registrar of Minerva in the temple of Saïs, that individual was not joking, as the father of history supposed. He thought that in the watershed the two conical hills, Crophi and Mophi might be found, and the fountains between them which it was impossible to fathom; and that it might be seen that from that region there was a river flowing north to Egypt, and another flowing south to a country that might have been called Ethiopia. But whatever might be his views or aims, it was ordained that in the wanderings of his last years he should bring within the sympathies of the Christian world many a poor tribe otherwise unknown; that he should witness sights, surpassing all he had ever seen before of the inhumanity and horrors of the slave-traffic--sights that harrowed his inmost soul; and that when his final appeal to his countrymen on behalf of its victims came, not from, his living voice but from his tomb, it should gather from a thousand touching associations a thrilling power that would rouse the world, and finally root out the accursed thing.
A very valuable testimony was borne by Sir Bartle Frere to the real aims of Livingstone, and the value of his work, especially in this last journey, in a speech delivered in the Glasgow Chamber of Commerce, 10th November, 1876:
In September an Arab slaver was met at Marenga's, who told Musa, one of the Johanna men, that all the country in front was full of Mazitu, a warlike tribe; that forty-four Arabs and their followers had been killed by them at Kasunga, and that he only had escaped. Musa's heart was filled with consternation. It was in vain that Marenga assured him that there were no Mazitu in the direction in which he was going, and that Livingstone protested to him that he would give them a wide berth. The Johanna men wanted an excuse for going back, but in such a way that, when they reached Zanzibar, they should get their pay. They left him in a body, and when they got to Zanzibar, circulated a circumstantial report that he had been murdered. In December, 1866, Musa appeared at Zanzibar, and told how Livingstone had crossed Lake Nyassa to its western or northwestern shore, and was pushing on west or northwest, when, between Marenga and Maklisoora, a band of savages stopped their way, and rushed on him and his small band of followers, now reduced to twenty. Livingstone fired twice, and killed two; but, in the act of reloading, three Mafite leaped upon him through the smoke, one of them felled him with an axe-cut from behind, and the blow nearly severed his head from his body. The Johanna men fled into the thick jungle, and miraculously escaped. Returning to the scene of the tragedy, they found the body of their master, and in a shallow grave dug with some stakes, they committed his remains to the ground, Many details were given regarding the Sepoys, and regarding the after fortunes of Musa and his companions. Under cross-examination Musa stood firmly to his story, which was believed both by Dr. Seward and Dr. Kirk, of Zanzibar. But when the tidings reached England, doubt was thrown on them by some of those best qualified to judge. Mr. Edward D. Young, who had had dealings with Musa, and knew him to be a liar, was suspicious of the story; so was Mr. Horace Waller. Sir Roderick Murchison, too, proclaimed himself an unbeliever, notwithstanding all the circumstantiality and apparent conclusiveness of the tale. The country was resounding with lamentations, the newspapers were full of obituary notices, but the strong-minded disbelievers were not to be moved.
Sir Roderick and his friends of the Geographical Society determined to organize a search expedition, and Mr. E. D. Young was requested to undertake the task. In May, 1867, all was ready for the departure of the Expedition; and on the 25th July, Mr. E. D. Young, who was accompanied by Mr. Faulkner, John Reid, and Patrick Buckley, cast anchor at the mouth of the Zambesi. A steel boat named "The Search," and some smaller boats, were speedily launched, and the party were moving up the river. We have no space for an account of Mr. Young's most interesting journey, not even for the detail of that wonderful achievement, the carrying of the pieces of the "Search" past the Murchison Cataracts, and their reconstruction at the top, without a single piece missing. The sum and substance of Mr. Young's story was, that first, quite unexpectedly, he came upon a man near the south end of Lake Nyassa, who had seen Livingstone there, and who described him well, showing that he had not crossed at the north end, as Musa had said, but, for some reason, had come round by the south; then, the chief Marenga not only told him of Livingstone's stay there, but also of the return of Musa, after leaving him, without any story of his murder; also, at Mapunda, they came on traces of the boy Wikatani, and learned his story, though they did not see himself. The most ample proof of the falsehood of Musa's story was thus obtained, and by the end of 1867, Mr. Young, after a most active, gallant, and successful campaign, was approaching the shores of England[68]. No enterprise could have brought more satisfactory results, and all in the incredibly short period of eight months.
[Footnote 68: See _The Search for Livingstone_, by E.D. Young: London, 1868.]
Meanwhile, Livingstone, little thinking of all the commotion that the knave Musa had created, was pushing on in the direction of Lake Tanganyika. Though it was not true that he had been murdered, it was true that he was half-starved. The want of other food compelled him to subsist to a large extent on African maize, the most tasteless and unsatisfying of food. It never produced the feeling of sufficiency, and it would set him to dream of dinners he had once eaten, though dreaming was not his habit, except when he was ill. Against his will, the thought of delicious feasts would come upon him, making it all the more difficult to be cheerful, with, probably, the poorest fare on which life could be in any way maintained, To complete his misery, his four goats were lost, so that the one comfort of his table--a little milk along with his maize--was taken from him when most eagerly sought and valued.
In reviewing the year 1866, he finds it less productive of results than he had hoped for: "We now end 1866. It has not been so fruitful or useful as I intended. Will try to do better in 1867, and be better--more gentle and loving; and may the Almighty, to whom I commit my way, bring my desires to pass, and prosper me! Let all the sins of '66 be blotted out, for Jesus' sake. May He who was full of grace and truth impress his character on mine: grace--eagerness to show favor; truth--truthfulness, sincerity, honor--for his mercy's sake."
Habitually brave and fearless though Livingstone was, it was not without frequent self-stimulation, and acts of faith in unseen truth, that the peace of his mind was maintained. In the midst of his notes of progress, such private thoughts as the following occur from time to time: "It seems to have been a mistake to imagine that the Divine Majesty on high was too exalted to take any notice of our mean affairs. The great minds among men are remarkable for the attention they bestow on minutiæ. An astronomer cannot be great unless his mind can grasp an infinity of very small things, each of which, if unattended to, would throw his work out. A great general attends to the smallest details of his army. The Duke of Wellington's letters show his constant attention to minute details. And so with the Supreme Mind, of the universe, as He is revealed to us in his Son. 'The very hairs of your head are all numbered,' 'A sparrow cannot fall to the ground without your Father,' 'He who dwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto' condescends to provide for the minutest of our wants, directing, guarding, and assisting in each hour and moment, with an infinitely more vigilant and excellent care than our own utmost self-love can ever attain to. With the ever-watchful, loving eye constantly upon me, I may surely follow my bent, and go among the heathen in front, bearing the message of peace and good-will. All appreciate the statement that it is offensive to our common Father to sell and kill his children. I will therefore go, and may the Almighty help me to be faithful!"
Writing to his son Thomas, 1st February, 1867, he complains again of his terrible hunger:
The year 1867 was signalized by a great calamity, and by two important geographical feats. The calamity was the loss of his medicine-chest. It had been intrusted to one of his most careful people; but, without authority, a carrier hired for the day took it and some other things to carry for the proper bearer, then bolted, and neither carrier nor box could be found. "I felt," says Livingstone, "as if I had now received the sentence of death, like poor Bishop Mackenzie." With the medicine-chest was lost the power of treating himself in fever with the medicine that had proved so effectual. We find him not long after in a state of insensibility, trying to raise himself from the ground, falling back with all his weight, and knocking his head upon a box. The loss of the medicine-box was probably the beginning of the end; his system lost the wonderful power of recovery which it had hitherto shown; and other ailments--in the lungs, the feet, and the bowels, that might have been kept under in a more vigorous state of general health, began hereafter to prevail against him.
The two geographical feats were--his first sight of Lake Tanganyika, and his discovery of Lake Moero. In April he reached Lake Liemba, as the lower part of Tanganyika was called. The scenery was wonderfully beautiful, and the air of the whole region remarkably peaceful. The want of medicine made an illness here very severe; on recovering, he would have gone down the lake, but was dissuaded, in consequence of his hearing that a chief was killing all that came that way. He therefore returns to Chitimba's, and resolves to explore Lake Moero, believing that there the question of the watershed would be decided, At Chitimba's, he is detained upward of three months, in consequence of the disturbed state of the country. At last he gets the escort of some Arab traders, who show him much kindness, but again he is prostrated by illness, and at length he reaches Lake Moero, 8th November, 1867. He hears of another lake, called Bembo or Bangweolo, and to hear of it is to resolve to see it. But he is terribly wearied with two years' traveling without having heard from home, and he thinks he must first go to Ujiji, for letters and stores. Meanwhile, as the traders are going to Casembe's, he accompanies them thither. Casembe he finds to be a fierce chief, who rules his people with great tyranny, cutting off their ears, and even their hands, for the most trivial offenses. Persons so mutilated, seen in his village, excite a feeling of horror. This chief was not one easily got at, but Livingstone believed that he gained an influence with him, only he could not quite overcome his prejudice against him. The year 1867 ended with another severe attack of illness.
The detentions experienced in 1867 were long and wearisome, and Livingstone disliked them because he was never well when doing nothing. His light reading must have been pretty well exhausted; even _Smith's Dictionary of the Bible_, which accompanied him in these wanderings, and which we have no doubt he read throughout, must have got wearisome sometimes. He occupied himself in writing letters, in the hope that somehow or sometime he might find an opportunity of despatching them. He took the rainfall carefully during the year, and lunars and other observations, when the sky permitted. He had intended to make his observations more perfect on this journey than on any previous one, but alas for his difficulties and disappointments! A letter to Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann, his assistant, gives a pitiful account of these: "I came this journey with a determination to observe very carefully all your hints as to occupations and observations, east and west, north and south, but I have been so worried by lazy, deceitful Sepoys, and thievish Johanna men, and indifferent instruments, that I fear the results are very poor." He goes on to say that some of his instruments were defective, and others went out of order, and that his time-taker, one of his people, had no conscience, and could not be trusted. The records of his observations, notwithstanding, indicate much care and pains. In April, he had been very unwell, taking fits of total insensibility, but as he had not said anything of this to his people at home, it was to be kept a secret.
His Journal for 1867 ends with a statement of the poverty of his food, and the weakness to which he was reduced. He had hardly anything to eat but the coarsest grain of the country, and no tea, coffee, or sugar. An Arab trader, Mohamad Bogharib, who arrived at Casembe's about the same time, presented him with a meal of vermicelli, oil, and honey, and had some coffee and sugar; Livingstone had had none since he left Nyassa.
The Journal for 1868 begins with a prayer that if he should die that year, he might be prepared for it. The year was spent in the same region, and was signalized by the discovery of Lake Bemba, or, as it may more properly be called, Lake Bangweolo, Early in the year he heard accounts of what interested him greatly--certain underground houses in Rua, ranging along a mountain side for twenty miles. In some cases the doorways were level with the country adjacent; in others, ladders were used to climb up to them; inside they were said to be very large, and not the work of men, but of God. He became eagerly desirous to visit these mysterious dwellings.
Circumstances turning out more favorable to his going to Lake Bangweolo, Dr. Livingstone put off his journey to Ujiji, on which his men had been counting, and much against the advice of Mohamad, his trader friend and companion, determined first to see the lake of which he had heard so much. The consequence was a rebellion among his men. With the exception of five, they refused to go with him. They had been considerably demoralized by contact with the Arab trader and his slave-gang. Dr. Livingstone took this rebellion with wonderful placidity, for in his own mind he could not greatly blame them. It was no wonder they were tired of the everlasting tramping, for he was sick of it himself. He reaped the fruit of his mildness by the men coming back to him, on his return from the lake, and offering their services. It cannot be said of him that he was not disposed to make any allowance for human weakness. When recording a fault, and how he dealt with it, he often adds, "consciousness of my own defects makes me lenient." "I also have my weaknesses."
The way to the lake was marked by fresh and lamentable tokens of the sufferings of slaves. "_24th June_.--Six men-slaves were singing as if they did not feel the weight and degradation of the slave-sticks. I asked the cause of their mirth, and was told that they rejoiced at the idea of 'coming back after death, and haunting and killing those who had sold them,' Some of the words I had to inquire about; for instance, the meaning of the words, 'to haunt and kill by spirit power,' then it was, 'Oh, you sent me off to Manga (sea-coast), but the yoke is off when I die, and back I shall come to haunt and to kill you.' Then all joined in the chorus, which was the name of each vendor. It told not of fun, but of the bitterness and tears of such as were oppressed; and on the side of the oppressors there was power. There be higher than they!"
His discovery of Lake Bangweolo is recorded as quietly as if it had been a mill-pond: "On the 18th July, I walked a little way out, and saw the shores of the lake for the first time, thankful that I had come safely hither." The lake had several inhabited islands, which Dr. Livingstone visited, to the great wonder of the natives, who crowded around him in multitudes, never having seen such a curiosity as a white man before. In the middle of the lake the canoe-men whom he had hired to carry him across refused to proceed further, under the influence of some fear, real or pretended, and he was obliged to submit. But the most interesting, though not the most pleasant, thing about the lake, was the ooze or sponge which occurred frequently on its banks. The spongy places were slightly depressed valleys, without trees or bushes, with grass a foot or fifteen inches high; they were usually from two to ten miles long, and from a quarter of a mile to a mile broad. In the course of thirty geographical miles, he crossed twenty-nine, and that, too, at the end of the fourth month of the dry season. It was necessary for him to strip the lower part of his person before fording them, and then the leeches pounced on him, and in a moment had secured such a grip, that even twisting them round the fingers failed to tear them off.
It was Dr. Livingstone's impression at this time that in discovering Lake Bangweolo, with the sponges that fed it, he had made another discovery--that these marshy places might be the real sources of the three great rivers, the Nile, the Congo, and the Zambesi. A link, however, was yet wanting to prove his theory. It had yet to be shown that the waters that flowed from Lake Bangweolo into Lake Moero, and thence northward by the river Lualaba, were connected with the Nile system. Dr. Livingstone was strongly inclined to believe that this connection existed; but toward the close of his life he had more doubts of it, although it was left to others to establish conclusively that the Lualaba was the Congo, and sent no branch to the Nile.
On leaving Lake Bangweolo, detention occurred again as it had occurred before. The country was very disturbed and very miserable, and Dr. Livingstone was in great straits and want. Yet with a grim humor he tells how, when lying in an open shed, with all his men around him, he dreamed of having apartments at Mivart's Hotel. It was after much delay that he found himself at last, under the escort of a slave-party, on the way to Ujiji. Mr. Waller has graphically described the situation. "At last he makes a start on the 11th of December, 1868, with the Arabs, who are bound eastward for Ujiji. It is a motley group, composed of Mohamad and his friends, a gang of Unyamwezi hangers-on, and strings of wretched slaves yoked together in their heavy slave-sticks. Some carry ivory, others copper, or food for the march, while hope and fear, misery and villainy, may be read off on the various faces that pass in line out of this country, like a serpent dragging its accursed folds away from the victim it has paralyzed with its fangs."
New Year's Day, 1869, found Livingstone laboring under a worse attack of illness than any he had ever had before. For ten weeks to come his situation was as painful as can be conceived. A continual cough, night and day, the most distressing weakness, inability to walk, yet the necessity of moving on, or rather of being moved on, in a kind of litter arranged by Mohamad Bogharib,--where, with his face poorly protected from the sun, he was jolted up and down and sideways, without medicine or food for an invalid,--made the situation sufficiently trying. His prayer was that he might hold out to Ujiji, where he expected to find medicines and stores, with the rest and shelter so necessary in his circumstances. So ill was he, that he lost count of the days of the week and the month. "I saw myself lying dead in the way to Ujiji, and all the letters I expected there--useless. When I think of my children, the lines ring through my head perpetually:
On the 26th February, 1869, he embarked in a canoe on Tanganyika, and on the 14th March he reached the longed-for Ujiji, on the eastern shore of the lake. To complete his trial, he found that the goods he expected had been made away with in every direction. A few fragments were about all he could find. Medicines, wine, and cheese had been left at Unyanyembe, thirteen days distant. A war was raging on the way, so that they could not be sent for till the communications were restored.
To obviate as far as possible the recurrence of such a disaster to a new store of goods which he was now asking Dr. Kirk to send him, Livingstone wrote a letter to the Sultan of Zanzibar, 20th April, 1869, in which he frankly and cordially acknowledged the benefit he had derived from the letter of recommendation his Highness had given him, and the great kindness of the Arabs, especially Mohamad Bogharib, who had certainly saved his life. Then he complains of the robbery of his goods, chiefly by one Musa bin Salim, one of the people of the Governor of Unyanyembe, who had bought ivory with the price, and another man who had bought a wife. Livingstone does not expect his cloth and beads to be brought back, or the price of the wife and ivory returned, but he says:
"I beg the assistance of your authority to prevent a fresh stock of goods, for which I now send to Zanzibar, being plundered in the same way. Had it been the loss of ten or twelve pieces of cloth only, I should not have presumed to trouble your Highness about the loss; but 62 pieces or gorahs out of 80, besides beads, is like cutting a man's throat. If one or two guards of good character could be sent by you, no one would plunder the pagasi next time.
"I wish also to hire twelve or fifteen good freemen to act as canoe-men or porters, or in any other capacity that may be required. I shall be greatly obliged if you appoint one of your gentlemen who knows the country to select that number, and give them and their headman a charge as to their behavior. If they know that you wish them to behave well it will have great effect. I wish to go down Tanganyika, through Luanda and Chowambe, and pass the river Karagwe, which falls into Lake Chowambe. Then come back to Ujiji, visit Manyuema and Rua, and then return to Zanzibar, when I hope to see your Highness in the enjoyment of health and happiness."
Livingstone showed only his usual foresight in taking these precautions for the protection of his next cargo of goods. In stating so plainly his intended route, his purpose was doubtless to prevent carelessness in executing his orders, such as might have arisen had it been deemed uncertain where he was going, and whether or not he meant to return by Zanzibar.
Of letters during the latter part of this period very few seem to have reached their destination. A short letter to Dr. Moffat, bearing date "Near Lake Moero, March, 1868," dwells dolefully on his inability to reach Lake Bemba in consequence of the flooded state of the country, and then his detention through the strifes of the Arabs and the natives. The letter, however, is more occupied with reviewing the past than narrating the present. In writing to Dr. Moffat, he enters more minutely than he would have done with a less intimate and sympathetic friend into the difficulties of his lot--difficulties that had been increased by some from whom he might have expected other things. He had once seen a map displayed in the rooms of the Geographical Society, substantially his own, but with another name in conspicuous letters. On the Zambesi he had had difficulties, little suspected, of which in the meantime he would say nothing to the public. A letter to his daughter Agnes, after he had gone to Bangweolo, dwells also much on his past difficulties--as if he felt that the slow progress he was making at the moment needed explanation or apology. Amid such topics, almost involuntary touches of the old humor occur: "I broke my teeth tearing at maize and other hard food, and they are coming out. One front tooth is out, and I have such an awful mouth. If you expect a kiss from me, you must take it through a speaking-trumpet." In one respect, amid all his trials, his heart seems to become more tender than ever--in affection for his children, and wise and considerate advice for their guidance. In his letter to Agnes, he adverts with some regret to a chance he lost of saying a word for his family when Lord Palmerston sent Mr. Hayward, Q.C., to ask him what he could do to serve him. "It never occurred to me that he meant anything for me or my children till I was out here. I thought only of my work in Africa, and answered accordingly." It was only the fear that his family would be in want that occasioned this momentary regret at his disinterested answer to Lord Palmerston.