The Royal Geographical Society — The Strange Lake on the Map — Set Off — Arrive at Zanzibar — A Preliminary Excursion — A Sail along the Coast — The Pangani River — A Jemadar’s Trick — Journey up Country — Adventures — Return to Zanzibar — Scenes there — Objects of the Expedition — Recruiting for Followers — The Cafila Bashi — The Start — Fevers — Discussions about the Mountains of the Moon and the Victoria N’yanza — The Tanganyika.

On my arrival in England, the first thing I did was to visit Captain Burton, and obtain an introduction to the Royal Geographical Society, under whose auspices I was about to travel. I next visited the Society, and here was revealed to me, for the first time, the great objects designed for the expedition in question. On the walls of the Society’s rooms there hung a large diagram, comprising a section of Eastern Africa, extending from the equator to the fourteenth degree of south latitude, and from Zanzibar sixteen degrees inland, which had been constructed by two reverend gentlemen, Messrs Erhardt and Rebmann, missionaries of the Church Mission Society of London, a short time previously, when carrying on their duties at Zanzibar. In this section-map, swallowing up about half of the whole area of the ground included in it, there figured a lake of such portentous size and such unseemly shape, representing a gigantic slug, or, perhaps, even closer still, the ugly salamander, that everybody who looked at it incredulously laughed and shook his head. It was, indeed, phenomenon enough in these days to excite anybody’s curiosity! A single sheet of sweet water, upwards of eight hundred miles long by three hundred broad, quite equal in size to, if not larger than, the great salt Caspian.

Now, to the honour of Admiral Sir George Back be it said, a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, and an old explorer himself in the Arctic regions, that he had determined in his mind that this great mystery should be solved, and that an insight should be gained into those interesting regions, concerning which conjectures and speculations had been rife, and which had caused so many hot debates for so many ages past amongst all the first geographers of the day; debates which, hitherto, nobody had been found energetic enough to set at rest by actual inspection of the country.

Casting about for a man fitted to carry out his plans, the Admiral hit upon Captain Burton, who had recently returned from Constantinople, where he had been engaged with the Bashi–Bazuks; and it was thus, through Sir George’s influence in the Royal Geographical Society, that Captain Burton had now been appointed to the command of this expedition.

A difference now arose about the Government ￡2000 in aid of the expedition. The Foreign Office had paid their ￡1000, but the India House thought Captain Burton’s pay ought to be considered their share. Finding this was the case I objected to go, as I did not wish, for one reason, to put myself under any money obligations to Captain Burton; and, for another reason, I thought I had paid enough for a public cause in the Somali country, without having gained any advantage to myself. Captain Burton, however, knew nothing of astronomical surveying, of physical geography, or of collecting specimens of natural history, so he pressed me again to go with him, and even induced the President of the Royal Geographical Society to say there need be no fear of money if we only succeeded. I then consented to go, determining in my own mind, somehow or other, to have my old plans, formed in India, of completing my museum, carried into effect, even if, after all, the funds of the expedition did not suffice. Captain Burton now gave me a cheque for my passage out of the public funds;1 but my incorporation with the expedition was not quite so easy as had been expected; for the Government in India at this time were using every endeavour in their power to increase their Indo–European forces, and had written home to Leadenhall Street an urgent desire that no officers should have their leave extended, or be placed on duty out of India; and for this reason, the India House authorities, although privately evincing a strong disposition to permit my going, felt it necessary to withhold their sanction to it. I was now between two fires. I had sacrificed my Caucasian expedition, and could not speak with the authorities in India. So, to cut the matter short, with a kind hint from my friend Sir Henry Rawlinson, as I had still nearly three years’ furlough at my disposal, I ventured over with Captain Burton by the overland route to Bombay, and tried my luck again.

This time, fortunately, it turned up trumps; for I need only say that the Governor of Bombay at this time was Lord Elphinstone, a man whose large and comprehensive mind was not only able to discern the frown of a pending mutiny looming in the distance, but whose quick foresight, backed by a great and natural unremitting energy of body, was subsequently able to forestall and provide, as far as human powers extend, against its thundering outburst. He saw at a glance of how much importance to the improvement of the commercial objects of his presidency this exploring expedition was likely to be. The Secretary to Government, Mr Anderson, who was equally of this view, treated the matter as a great national object, and, at the request of Captain Burton, drew up an official application to incorporate me in the expedition, and sent it to the Government at Calcutta, with the recommendation of his lordship; whilst I, in anticipation of the sanction of the Governor–General, Lord Canning, was permitted to accompany Captain Burton to Zanzibar in the Hon. East India Company’s sloop-of-war Elphinstone, commanded by Captain Frushard, I.N., and commence operations at once.

This vessel had been detached especially on this duty to meet Captain Burton’s views, that a political importance should be given to the mission by our arriving in Government official state at the starting-point, in order to secure the influence and respect of the sultan reigning there.

After a residence of one week at Bombay, during which time I completed our outfit in scientific instruments and other minor points — for this charge was reposed in me, owing to my previous experience in those matters — we set sail on the 3d December 1856, taking two Goanese cook “boys,” by name Valantine and Gaetano, with us as servants, and in eighteen days landed at our destination, Zanzibar. The kindness of Captain Frushard, who shared his cabin with us, as well as the constant attentions of his officers, combined with pleasant weather and a liberal fare, provided for us by the Bombay Government in the capacity of political envoys, made the time occupied on the voyage fly quickly and very agreeably.2

Immediately on arrival at the island of Zanzibar, we were warmly received and welcomed by our consul, Colonel Hamerton, an Irish gentleman, and one characterised by the true merry hospitality of his race. He had been a great sufferer, by the effects of the climate operating on him from too long a residence in these enervating regions; but he was, nevertheless, vivacious in temperament and full of amusing anecdotes, which kept the whole town alive. He gave us a share of his house, and what was more, made that house our homes. His generosity was boundless, and his influence so great, that he virtually commanded all societies here. Our old and faithful ally, the Imaum of Muscat, who, unfortunately for us, had but recently died, was so completely ruled by him, that he listened to and obeyed him as a child would his father.

The present ruler of Zanzibar — that is, of the coastline, with all the islands which lie between the equator on the southern confines of the Somali country and the Portuguese possessions in Mozambique — is Sultan Majid, the second son of the old Imaum; for it must be remembered that the Imaum, at his death, divided his territories, then comprising Muscat in Arabia, and Zanzibar in Africa, into two separate states, giving the former, or Muscat, to his eldest son, Sayyid (Prince) Suwéni, whilst the latter was bequeathed to his favourite, the second son, Sayyid Majid, now styled Sultan. Sultan Majid was born of a Circassian woman, and in consequence is very light in complexion; and, taking much after the inclinations of his father, is likely to become as great a favourite as was the old Imaum. Zanzibar island is the seat of government, and consequently the metropolis. The town contains about sixty thousand inhabitants of all nations, but principally coloured people, of which the Suahili, or coast people, living on the opposite main, predominate in number, though they are the least important. Of the merchants, there are several European houses, comprising French, Germans, and Americans; and numerous Asiatics, mostly from Arabia and Hindostan,— the Suahili ranking lowest of the whole. There are also three consuls, an English, French, and American, who look after the interests of the subjects of their respective governments.

We found, considering it would take more than a month to organise an expedition, that we had arrived here at the very worst season of the year for commencing a long inland journey — the height of the dry season in these regions, when water is so very scarce in the more desert tracts of the interior of the continent, that travelling, from want of that material element, is precarious; and it was just before the commencement of the vernal monsoon, or greater rainy season, when everything would be deluged.

Considering this, and giving due deference to the opinions of the travelling merchants of this place against our organising at once for the interior journey to the great lake, Captain Burton bethought himself of gaining a little elementary training in East African travelling, by spending the remainder of the dry season in inspecting various places on the coast; and, if a favourable opportunity presented itself, he felt desirous of having a peep at the snowy Kilimandjaro Mountain, of which the Rev. Mr Rebmann, who first discovered it, had sent home reports, and which had excited such angry and unseemly contests amongst our usually sedate though speculative carpet-geographers in England as rendered a further inspection highly necessary.

Now, as the Royal Geographical Society had desired us to place ourselves in communication with Mr Rebmann, who was then at his mission-station, Kisuludini, at Rabbai, on a high hill at the back of Mombas, and to try and solicit him to go with us into the interior, where it was thought his experience in the native languages would be useful to the expedition,— my companion hired a small beden, or half-decked Arab vessel, by the month, to take us about wherever we pleased; and on the 5th January 1857, having engaged a respectable half-caste Arab Sheikh, named Said, to be our guide and interpreter, we took leave of our host, set sail, and steered northwards, coasting along the shores of this beautiful clove island, until we left it, and shortly afterwards sighted the still more lovely island of Pemba, or “The Emerald Isle” of the Arabs — named, doubtless, from the surprising verdure of its trees and plants. Here we called in at Chak-chak, the principal place, where there is a rude little fort and small garrison of Beluch soldiers, and a Wali, or governor. Starting the following morning, we put to sea again, and in three days — sailing against a strong southerly current, aggravated by a stiff north-easterly breeze, almost too much for our cranky little vessel, and which frightened the crew and our little timid Sheikh so much that they all lost presence of mind, and with the greatest difficulty were repressed from “‘bouting ship,” and wrecking themselves, together with us, on the shores of the coast — we harboured in the Mombas creek.

Mombas on the north, like Kilua on the south, are the two largest garrison towns belonging to the Sultan on the main shores. They each have a Wali or governor, custom officers, and a Beluch guard; and have certain attractions to the antiquarian in the shape of Portuguese ruins. We left our traps here to be housed by a Banyan called Lakshmidos, the collector of customs,3 and started on the 17th January to visit Mr Rebmann, beyond the hills overlooking this place. It was a good day’s work, and was commenced by rowing about ten miles up the Rabbai branch of the creek we were in, until we arrived at the foot of the hills bearing the same name, beyond which his house stands. This inlet was fringed with such dense masses of the mangrove shrub, on which clung countless numbers of small tree-oysters,— adhering to their branches in clusters, and looking as though they subsisted thereon after the manner of orchidaceous plants,— that we could obtain no view whatever, save of the hills towering to the height of some ten hundred or twelve hundred feet above us. The water-journey over, we commenced the ascent of Rabbai, and, soon crowning it by a steep slope, passed into the country of the Wanyika, the first true negro tribe of my acquaintance, and by a gentle decline passing through quiet little villages, we entered, after a walk of five miles, the Kisuludini mission-house, and there found Mr Rebmann, with his amiable English wife, living in their peaceful retreat. They gave us a free and cordial welcome and comfortable lodging, and supplied us with all the delicacies of a dry Wanyika season, for there was now a drought in the land, and consequently a famine. So hard were the times for the unfortunate negroes, that they were forced against their wills to support the bulk of their families by the sale of some of its junior members to keep themselves alive.

And now, according to Mr Rebmann, to aggravate their predicament, they were on the eve of a more dreadful enemy still than famine,— that of the attacks of a marauding party of the barbarous pastoral Masai, a neighbouring tribe, who were now out engaged in pillaging some of the Wanyika villages, not far from this, of the few heads of cattle which they keep as a “safety-valve” against the scourge of droughts. The oddest thing to me was to see the placid equanimity with which Mr Rebmann and his wife coolly delayed a day or two, notwithstanding the near proximity of this savage band of thieves, to pack up their kit comfortably before leaving the place; but we were assured by the reverend gentleman that the Masai cared but little for anything save beef, and they therefore did not apprehend rough usage at their hands. The air of this high land is cool and pleasant, and the scenery from the station overlooking the sea was very picturesque and serenely beautiful. The Rabbai hills are an outlying range running parallel to the coast, or more properly, I should say, an abattis, which supports a high but slightly depressed flattish interior, gently declining westwards.

After a good night’s rest we returned to Mombas, housed ourselves in the dwelling appointed for our use by Lakshmidos, and had many civilities paid us by the Wali (governor) and coloured merchants of the place, who brought us fruits and paid us other delicate little attentions by way of showing their regard. The Wanyika having by this time sent to the Mombas fort for aid to support them against the attacks of their enemies, we felt some alarm at the position of Mr and Mrs Rebmann, and again returned to Kisuludini, to see if we could be of any use to them: but not so; they were as fearless as before, and would not leave their house until everything had been well packed up and sent away.4 We now bade them adieu a second time, and returned to our house at Mombas. Here we heard that several of the Beluch troops had been despatched against the Masai, and that some skirmishes had taken place, but they were nothing of any material consequence.

Seeing that there was this little excitement on the direct road to Kadiaro and the Kilimandjaro, Captain Burton thought it unadvisable to venture on that line, the more especially so as he judged the Mombas people were not over-well disposed to our travelling into the interior. Further, he had heard of fresh attractions on the coast, in the shape of ruins, both Portuguese and Persian;— those places from which, in former ages, the Portuguese — who had been led there by the adventurous Vasco de Gama, and were the first European occupants of these dark lands — were driven southwards by the Arabs. Moreover, he heard that the mountain of Kilimandjaro was just as accessible to us from Tanga or Pangani, a little farther down the coast, where there would probably be no war-parties standing in our way, as the case was here.

I, on the other hand, did not see any cause of alarm, for I thought we could easily have walked round the Masai party; but I saw various reasons for abandoning the projected plan of looking at the Kilimandjaro. In the first place, it had been already discovered by Mr Rebmann; it was, moreover, rather distant for our limited time; it would require more money than our limited funds could admit of; and last, though not least, as we had some time to spare, I thought it would be much more agreeable to spend it in hippopotamus-shooting on the coast, and on what game we might find on the hills of Usumbara, if we perforce were to go through that kingdom on our way towards the Kilimandjaro, an idea that had struck us; for though Usumbara had been traversed formerly by the Church missionaries, it was still a maiden country for the sportsman. Considering Mombas as a starting-point for an excursion into the interior, I can conceive no direction more interesting or advantageous for any one to embark upon. Dr Krapf has already been as far as Kitui, in the country of Ukambani, fourteen marches distant only from Mombas, and there he heard of a snowy mountain called Kenia, lying probably to the northward of and on the same hill-range as Mount Kilimandjaro, which most likely separates the river-systems of the east from those which flow to the westward into the Nile. In confirmation of this impression, I would mention the fact that a merchant caravan of about two hundred men, whilst we were stopping here, arrived from Kitui laden with elephant ivories, which they had bartered for American sheeting, Venetian beads, and brass wire, &c. &c., in the district of Ukambani; and they described the country in the most glowing terms, as possessing a healthy climate, pleasant temperature, wholesome water, and an abundance of provisions, both flesh and grain: they had, moreover, camels and donkeys as beasts of burden, which alone denotes a great facility for travelling in Eastern Africa, where usually men take the place of beasts. The Wakambani porters belonging to this caravan, as many as there were, were boisterous, humorous savages, who, as they danced and paraded about the town, all armed in savage fashion with bows and spears and sharp knives, in fact anything but clothes, looked as wild as animals just driven from a jungle. Noise and dancing seemed their principal delight, and they indulged in it, blowing horns and firing muskets with a boisterous glee, which showed the strangest contrast to the tame Hindus and other merchant residents of the place.

Captain Burton now decided on quitting Mombas; and on the 24th January, after embarking in our little beden, we set sail southwards. Following the coastline, we touched at the villages of Gasi, Wasin, Tanga — where I had my first flirtations with the hippopotami, of which more hereafter — and Tangata, to inspect ruins and make inquiries about the interior condition of the country.

The coast-line was one continuous undeviating scene of tropical beauty, with green aquatic mangroves growing everywhere out into the tidal waves, with the beetal, palmyra, and other palms overtopping this fringe; and in the background a heterogeneous admixture, an impervious jungle, of every tree, shrub, and grass, that characterise the richest grounds on the central shores of this peculiar continent. The little islands we passed amongst, and all the reefs that make these shores so dangerous to the navigator, whether large or small, were the produce of the industrious little coral insect. The lime with which their cellular beds are composed being favourable to vegetable growth, leaves it no wonder that the higher grounds and dryer lands are thus so densely clothed. The few villages there are, bordering on the coast, are poor and meagre-looking, but their inhabitants were very hospitable, especially where there were any Banyans. Nothing could exceed the mingled pride and yearning pleasure these exotic Indians seemed to derive from having us as their guests. Being Indian officers, they looked upon us as their guardians, and did everything they could to show they felt it so. Our conversing in their own language, and talking freely of their native land, must, as indeed they said it did, have felt to them as if after a long banishment they were suddenly thrown amongst their old and long-lost friends. To us how strange did these things appear! that men so full of life, good-breeding, intelligence, and affections — so meaning and calculating in their conversation, so gentlemanly in their behaviour — should live this life of utter banishment, amidst these savages, devoid of all sympathetic affections, and knowing not even what things constitute the commonest business of life. And why? To make a little money for their latter days, when life’s enjoyment has passed away. Their wretched case would not be so bad, only that, from being Hindus, they cannot marry or even bring their wives from India with them. It is a position even worse than that of hermits. Tanga was the most considerable of all the places we visited, being the grand terminus of those caravans, which, passing immediately to the south of the Kilimandjaro, traverse the Masai country to Burgenei, near the south-east corner of the Victoria N’yanza (Lake).5 Here Captain Burton again commenced making inquiries about the route to Kilimandjaro, and how, if that could not be managed, considering the means at our disposal, we could march into Usumbara, see the capital Fuga, and pay the king, Kimuéri, a cursory visit; but being more or less dissuaded from this, evidently, as it afterwards appeared, by the timorous inclinations rather than from any real difficulties which presented themselves to the mind of our Sheikh, Captain Burton thought it better to see first what could be done at Pangani.

We arrived in the mouth of the Pangani river on the 3d February; and, immediately on landing, were met by all the grandees of the place, who welcomed us as big men, and escorted us to a large stone house in the town overlooking the river. On the way to this domicile, a number of black singers were formed in line to serenade us, and they danced and sang in real negro peculiarity, with such earnest constancy that, although a novel sight, we were glad to be rid of them long before they were tired of performing. All inquisitive about other people’s concerns, the Panganyites at once eagerly busied themselves to find out what our intentions were in coming there, and accordingly began to speculate on what they could make out of us. First the Diwans (head-men) wanted us to pay our footing in the town; but that only provoking a sharp rebuff, they began a system of “making difficulties.” To go to the Kilimandjaro we must have a large and expensive escort, or nobody would go with us. But this we were not persistent in, for two reasons: in the first place, having frittered away so much time at Mombas, and in inspecting ruins on the way from it, we had no time left ere the kuzi, or little rains precursory to the great monsoon, which would shortly set in on the high lands near the Great Mountain, would fall and impede our progress; and, in the second, we were short of cash. Next we contemplated a flying trip to Fuga, for which alternative Sultan Majid had provided us with introductions to the king, Kimuéri, living there; and this, of course, being known to the people through the medium of Sheikh Said, they at once beset our doors to meet our proposals and make fresh difficulties.

King Kimuéri’s son, who happened to be here on his way to Zanzibar, presuming we had presents for the king, mildly begged us to give them up to him at once, he securing us a passage to his father,— a cool request, which, of course, was just as coolly rejected. And now everybody, evidently actuated by him, stood in our way at every turn. We must not go the straight road, as the Wazégura living on the right bank of the Pangani river were “out,” and in open hostilities with the Wasumbara, and would intercept our passage; and, instead, they proposed our going via Tangata, a much longer route, but open to us if we only took a sufficient number of men, and paid handsomely for the convenience. Considering that the value attachable to the undertaking would be magnified in our minds in proportion to the amount of obstacles which had to be surmounted, difficulty upon difficulty was now conjured up and produced as fast as they thought they were working upon our inclinations. Sometimes our advisers would go, and then the opposite. They were verily as coy in their advancements and retractions as a woman who, in love, gives and takes with a wavering man on whom she has set her heart at a time when he is fearful of giving way to her little seductive artifices.

At this perplexing juncture, quite unforeseen by us, the jemadar of a small Beluch garrison (Chogué), about seven miles up the river, came to pay his respects, and by a clever artifice — purely an Oriental dodge, as anybody who has lived in India will readily admit — at once perceiving an advantage to be gained by which he might profitably fill his own pocket at the same time that he would save ours, and give a job to his own Beluches to the prejudice of those avaricious Panganyites, offered us an inducement which was too good not to be at once accepted. The plan was simply this: He was to leave at once and return to Chogué, and make arrangements with his guard for our reception there, whilst we, feigning abandonment of all our plans, were to prepare for a shooting excursion up the river, with only one servant and our sporting gear with us. This trick succeeded admirably, without provoking the slightest suspicion on anybody’s part. Leaving our Sheikh and one “boy” behind to take care of our property, we now set sail in a small canoe, on the 6th February, and made for Chogué. The river was extremely tortuous and filled with hippopotami, who, as the vessel advanced up the tidal stream, snorted and grunted as if they felt disposed to dispute our passage; but this never happened. Inquisitive in the extreme about the foreign intruders, they could not resist continually popping up their heads and apparently inviting us to take a shot, which, as may readily be imagined, I lost no opportunity in complying with. Whether I killed any or not is difficult to say, for as the guns were fired their heads immediately disappeared, to rise no more, or, if not struck, to peep above again some way distant at our stern. To shoot hippopotami properly, one must have time to wait for the receding of the tide, when, if killed, their bodies would be left exposed on the sandy bottom; or, if in deep water, to wait until, being filled with gases, they would float by the buoyancy of their bodies.

There was little to be seen in this voyage of any interest, for the curtains of mangroves, with palms and other trees growing in almost impenetrable denseness, veiled in our view to the limits of the stream’s breadth. As the tide was running out at sunset, we halted for its return at Pombui, a small village on the left bank, and resumed the journey after midnight. In two hours we reached the mooring-place opposite the station, Chogué, fastened the canoe, and lay down to sleep. Early after dawn, the jemadar, with his guard, advanced to meet us, welcomed us with sundry complimentary discharges of their matchlocks, and escorted us to their post. The jemadar’s guard was composed of twenty-five men, most of whom were here, whilst the other few held another fort on the top of a hill called Tongué. Volunteers were now called for to accompany us, who would carry each his arms, a little food, and such baggage as might be necessary — just enough to march up rapidly to Fuga, to have a little shooting in some favourable jungles near there, and return again as soon as possible. There was no difficulty, as the jemadar foresaw. The Beluches receive so little pay from their sultan that any windfall like this was naturally welcome; and out of the little garrison five men were readily enlisted; besides these, they supplied four slave-servants, and two men as guides.

With one day’s delay in preparing, we left Chogué in the evening, and commenced a scrambling journey; all the men fully loaded, and ourselves much the same.

On the morning of the following day, after travelling by a footpath over undulating country, we mounted the hill of Tongué, and put up in the fort.

Mount Tongué is itself an outlying hill, detached from the massive clusters of Usumbara by a deep rolling valley of broken ground of desert forest, which as we afterwards saw by their numerous tracks, must contain, during the rainy season, vast herds of the elephant and buffalo, as well as antelopes and lions, though but few animals of any kind appeared to be here now. Looking south by west from this height over the broad valley of the Pangani, I was able to take compass bearings on some cones in the Uzégura country, belonging to the Nguru hills. The whole country below appeared to be covered with the richest vegetation, and in the river we could hear the murmuring sound of a waterfall, said by the Beluches to be a barrier to the navigation of the river any farther inland.6

10th February.— Early in the morning we bid Tongué Fort adieu, and, descending by its northern slopes, threaded our way, arching round by north to westward, through the forests below, until late in the evening we arrived within a short distance of a hill called Khombora; and here, as the darkness of night was closing in, the party by accident divided: some, taking a more northerly track — the proper one — soon came across a nullah containing water,— the thing we were then in search of; whilst we, following on the heels of the guide, lost the way, and, coming upon the same watercourse lower down the stream, bivouacked for the night alongside some green, fetid, stagnant pools, in which a host of young frogs were keeping up a merry concert. We fired guns, but without avail, the distance we were separated by being too great for the reports to be heard.

Next morning, after following up the nullah for some considerable distance, we lit upon the rest of the party, sitting by a chain of pools, where they had bivouacked like ourselves; and, mingling together, commenced the march. At this time it was discovered that the surveying compass had been left behind, and I wished to return at once; but as Captain Burton was knocked up, and would not wait for me, the instrument was abandoned. Then, with the party complete, we passed to the northward of Khombora, by an indenture of the ground lying between it and a much larger hill, called Sagama, which hill forms the south-eastern buttress of the Usumbara masses; and opening into the valley of Pangani again, we put up at a Wazégura village on its right bank, called Kohodé, crossing the river by a ferry. Here my companion, with all the party — save one exceptional See............