Stanley's Adventures in the Wilds of Africa Part 16

"Frequent!" was the reply, "sometimes six or ten times a month."

One of these captives said to Stanley, on the march from Mana to Manibo, "Master, all the plain lying between Mana, Manibo and Nyangwe, when I first came here eight years ago, was populated so thickly that we traveled through gardens, villages and fields every quarter of an hour.

There were flocks of goats and black pigs around every village. You can see what it now is." He saw that it was an uninhabited wilderness. At that time, Livingstone saw how the country was becoming depopulated before the slave-traders, but says Stanley, "Were it possible for him to rise from the dead and take a glance at the districts now depopulated, it is probable that he would be more than ever filled with sorrow at the misdoings of these traders."

He thinks there is but one way of putting a perpetual end to this infernal traffic, and that is by stopping it in the interior. English and American cruisers on the coast can have but partial success. The suggestion of the Khedive of Egypt is the right one. Annex the interior of Africa to some strong power and establish stations on the great highways over which these traders are compelled to transport their human chattels, where they will be pounced upon and made to give up their captives, and the trade will soon cease from its being too hazardous and unprofitable.

Portugal has no right to the west coast, which it claims. Let England, or England and America together, claim and exercise sovereignty over it, and it will need no cruisers on the coast to stop the trade in slaves.

At any rate, it is high time the Christian nations of the world put a stop to this disgrace and blot upon humanity.

CHAPTER XX.

ORGANIZING A NEW EXPEDITION.

Arriving near Nyangwe, one of the first to meet Stanley was the Arab, Tipo-tipo, or Tipo-tib, or Tippu-tib (which is the proper spelling neither Cameron nor Stanley seems to know), who had once conducted Cameron as far as Utotera or the Kasongo country. He was a splendid specimen of a man physically, and just the one to give Stanley all the information he wanted respecting Cameron's movements. He told him that the latter wanted to follow the river to the sea, but that his men were unwilling to go; besides, no canoes could be obtained for the purpose.

He also told him that after staying a long time at Kasongo, he had joined a company of Portuguese traders and proceeded south.

One thing was clear: Cameron had not settled the great problem that Livingstone wished of all things to solve--this great unfinished work had been left for Stanley to complete, or to leave for some future, more daring or more successful explorer. Could he get canoes--could he surmount difficulties that neither Livingstone nor Cameron were able to overcome? were the grave questions he asked himself. He had long dialogues with Tipo-tipo and other Arab chiefs, all of whom dissuaded him from attempting to follow the Lualaba by land, or trying to get canoes. They told him frightful stories of the cannibals below--of dwarfs striped like Zebras and ferocious as demons, with poisoned arrows, living on the backs of elephants, of anacondas, of impenetrable forests--in short, they conjured up a country and a people that no stranger who placed any value on his life would dare to encounter.

The fact that the Lualaba flowed north to a distance beyond the knowledge of the natives was doubtless one, and perhaps the chief, reason why Livingstone suspected it emptied into the Nile. Stanley now knew better. How far north it might flow before it turned he could not say, yet he felt certain that turn west it would, sooner or later, and empty into the Atlantic Ocean, and the possibility of his tracing it had a powerful fascination for him. Its course he knew lay through the largest half of Africa, which was a total blank. Here, by the way, it is rather singular that Stanley, following Livingstone who alone had explored Lake Bembe and made it the source of the Lualaba, adopts his statement, while Cameron, on mere hearsay, should a.s.sert that its source was in marshes. The river, after leaving the lake, flows two hundred miles and empties into Lake Mweru, a body of water containing about one thousand eight hundred square miles. Issuing from this, it takes the name of Lualaba, which it holds and loses by turns as it moves on its mighty course for one thousand one hundred miles, till it rolls, ten miles wide at its mouth, into the broad Atlantic as the Congo.

Stanley, from first to last, seemed to have a wonderful power, not only over the Arabs that composed his expedition as we have before mentioned, but over all those with whom he came in contact in his explorations.

Notwithstanding all the horrors depicted as awaiting any attempt to advance beyond Nyangwe, this Tipo-tipo agreed, for $5,000, to accompany him with a strong escort a distance of sixty camps, on certain conditions. That he would do it on any conditions was extraordinary, considering the fact, if it was a fact, that the last attempt to penetrate this hostile territory resulted in the loss of five hundred men. The conditions were, that the march should commence from Nyangwe--not occupy more than three months--and that if Stanley should conclude, at the end of the sixty marches, that he could not get through, he would return to Nyangwe; or if he met Portuguese traders and chose to go to the coast in the direction they were moving, he should detail two-thirds of his force to accompany said Tipo back to Nyangwe for his protection.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SCENE IN CAMP AT NYANGWE.]

To all these Stanley agreed, except the one promising, if he concluded to go on at the end of the sixty marches, to give him two-thirds of the men of the expedition to see him safely back. On this article of agreement there was a hitch, and Stanley showed his Yankee education, if not Yankee birth, by putting in a last article, by which, if Tipo-tipo through cowardice should fail to complete his sixty marches, he should forfeit his $5,000, and have no escort for his return. Stanley then gave him time to think of it, while he went to see young Poc.o.ke and confer with him. They went over the whole ground together, and Stanley told him it was a matter of life and death with both of them; failure would be certain and perhaps horrible death; success would be honor and glory. It was a fearful picture he drew of the possible future, but Frank's ready response was, "go on."

At this point Stanley reveals one of his strongest characteristics, which we mentioned in the sketch of him at the beginning of the book--the Napoleonic quality of relying on himself. Ordinary well-established principles and rules often condemned the action of Bonaparte--results approved them. So ordinary prudence would have turned Stanley back as it did Cameron--the stories told him of the character of the tribes in advance--the obstacles he would have to encounter, all the mystery, perils and uncertainty of the future--the universal warning and fearful prognostications of those who were supposed to know best--his isolated condition in the heart of Africa--all things that could surround a man to deter him in his actions, were gathered there around that lonely man at that outpost of civilized enterprise; yet, falling back on himself, rising superior to all outward influences, gauging all the probabilities and possibilities by his own clear perceptions and indomitable will, he determined to push forward. If he could not get canoes, which he feared he could not any more than Cameron, then he would try to follow the river by land; if that failed, he would make canoes in the African forest; if he could not go peaceably, he would fight his way, and not turn back till deserted by his own men and left alone in the midst of a savage, hostile people. This determination, under the circ.u.mstances, shows him to be no ordinary character, and marks him as one who in a revolution would control the stormy elements around him and mount to power or to the scaffold.

There were also minor obstacles attending this desperate effort to trace the Lualaba to the sea. He had thirteen women in his expedition, wives of his chief Arabs, some of them with young children, others in various stages of pregnancy, who would be delivered of children before they reached the Atlantic coast, and under what circ.u.mstances the hour of travail might come no one knew. It might be in the hour of battle, or in the desperate race for life, when one hour's delay would be total ruin to the expedition and death to all. It might be in the struggle and fight around a cataract, or in the day of extreme famine. A thousand things had to be taken into consideration before resolving on this desperate movement. But no matter, the obstacles might even be more formidable than represented, the risk tenfold greater, his mind was made up--the secrets of that mysterious river he would unlock, or his last struggles and mysterious fate would add one more to the secrets it held.

At length the contract with Tipo-tipo to escort him sixty marches was made and signed, and then Stanley informed his own men of it, and told them that if at the end of that time they came across a caravan bound for the west coast, part would join it, and the rest might, if they wished, return to Nyangwe. They agreed to stand by the contract and Stanley moved forward into Nyangwe. Here Stanley was received by one of the two Arab chiefs that bear sway in the place, with becoming courtesy.

He seemed surprised at the orderly, quiet march of this force, and still more when told that the distance from Tanganika, some three hundred and forty miles, had been made in about forty days.

Stanley describes minutely the place and its political management, but seems, like Livingstone and Cameron, to be particularly struck with its market. This is held every fourth day, and from one to three thousand people a.s.semble to trade; most of the vendors are women, and the animated manner in which trade is carried on amused Livingstone exceedingly. Though he could not understand their language he could interpret their gestures, which were very expressive. This pleasant scene, however, was marred one day by a messenger stalking into the market with ten jawbones of men tied to a string and hanging over his shoulder, he boasting of having killed and eaten these men and describing with his knife how he cut them up.

Early in the morning of the market-day the river, as far as its course can be seen, presents a lively appearance. It is covered with canoes loaded to their gunwales with natives and articles for the market piled on each other, and they all press toward one point. Amid the laughter and jargon of the natives, may be heard the crowing of c.o.c.ks, and squealing of pigs and the bleating of goats. Having reached the landing-place, the men quietly shoulder their paddles and walk up the bank, leaving the women to carry the articles up to the market-place.

These are placed in large baskets and slung on their backs by a strap across their foreheads. When this great crowd of two or three thousand are a.s.sembled the babel begins. But the talking and chaffering are done by the women; the men move about paying but little attention to the bartering, unless something important, as the sale of a slave, is going on. The women do not walk about, but having selected a spot where they propose to do business, they let down the basket, and spreading the articles on the ground so as to appear to the best advantage, they squat themselves in the basket, where they look like some huge sh.e.l.l-fish.

The vendors being thus stationary, the buyers also become so, and hence it is always a close, jammed ma.s.s of human beings, screaming, sweating and sending forth no pleasant odor, for three or four hours. They do not break up gradually, but on the movement of some important person a general scramble will commence, and in twenty minutes the whole two thousand or more will be scattered in every direction. The markets of this region are held on neutral ground by the various tribes, and their feuds are laid aside for that day. Except at Nyangwe, uninhabited spots are selected. The neighboring chiefs are always present, and can be seen lounging lazily about. Stanley counted fifty-seven different articles for sale, ranging from sweet potatoes to beautiful girls, while the currency was sh.e.l.ls, beads, copper and bra.s.s wire and palm cloth.

There are two foreign chiefs at the place, who are very jealous of each other, as each wished to be regarded by the natives as the most powerful. Sheikh Abed, a tall, thin old man with a white beard, occupies the southern section of the town, and Muini Dugumbi the other. It has not long been an Arab trading post, for Dugumbi is the first Arab that came here, and that was no later than 1868, and pitched his quarters, and now the huts of his friends, with their families and slaves, number some three hundred. He is an Arab trader from the east coast, and soon after his arrival he established a harem, composed of more than three hundred slave women. Though a rollicking, joking man himself, his followers are a reckless, freebooting set. The original inhabitants of Nyangwe were driven out by Muini Dugumbi, and now occupy portions of both sides of the river, and live by fis.h.i.+ng, and are said to be a singular tribe. Stanley estimated there must have been forty-two thousand of them in the region previous to the coming of this Arab chief, who spread desolation on every side. There remain to-day only twenty thousand of this people.

Stanley remained here only about a week, for Tipo-tipo arriving on the 2d of November, he prepared to start on his unknown journey. The expedition, when he mustered it on the morning of the 4th, numbered one hundred and seventy-six, armed with sixty-three muskets and rifles, two double-barreled guns and ten revolvers. Besides these, there were sixty-eight axes, that Stanley, with great forethought, purchased, thinking the time might come when he would need them as much as his guns. Tipo-tipo brought with him seven hundred followers, though only four hundred were to accompany the expedition the sixty marches.

Together, they made quite a little army, but many of them were women and children, who always accompany the Arabs in their marches or forays; still, the force, all drawn up, presented an imposing display. A hundred of these were armed with flint-lock muskets, the rest with spears and s.h.i.+elds.

CHAPTER XXI.

THROUGH THE FORESTS.

On the 5th of November, Stanley, at the head of his motley array, turned his back on Nyangwe and his face to the wilderness. It was an eventful morning for him. Eighteen hundred miles of an unknown country stretched before him, wrapped in profound mystery, peopled with races of which the outside world had never heard, and filled with dangers that would appall the bravest heart. He felt, as he turned and gave a last look at Nyangwe, that the die was cast--his fate for good or ill was sealed.

What sad misgivings must at times have made a feeling of faintness creep over his heart--what terrible responsibilities must have crowded upon him; aye, what gloomy forebodings, in spite of his courage, would weigh down his spirit. If he had used canoes, the starting would have been more cheerful, but the dense and tangled forest, whose dark line could be traced against the sky, wore a forbidding aspect. They marched but nine miles the first day, and though the country was open, the manner in which the men bore it did not promise well for their endurance when they should enter the jungle. Every pound was carried on men's shoulders, besides their weapons, all the provisions, stores of cloth, and beads, and wire, the arms and ammunition, of which there had to be a large quant.i.ty, for they might be two years fighting their way across the continent, and in addition to these burdens, the boat in sections. The next morning, Tipo-tipo's heterogeneous crowd started first, which impeded the march by frequent halts, for the women and children had to be cared for. They soon entered the gloomy forest of Mitamba, where the marching became more difficult, and the halts more frequent, while the dew fell from the trees in great rain-drops, wetting the narrow path they were following, till the soil became a thick mud. The heavy foliage shut out the sky, and the disordered caravan marched on in gloomy twilight, and at last, drenched to the skin, reached a village four miles from camp and waited for the carriers of the boat to arrive. These found the boat a heavy burden, for the foliage grew so thick and low over the path, that the sections had to be pushed by sheer force through it. To make the camp even more gloomy, one of the Arab chiefs who had been in the forest before, said, with great complacency, that what they had endured was nothing to that which was before them. The next day the path was so overgrown and obstructed by fallen trees, that axemen had to go before the carriers of the boat to clear the way for them. On the 10th, having reached Uregga, a village in the very heart of the forest, they halted for a rest. Its isolated inhabitants seemed to be in advance of those whom Stanley had seen elsewhere. The houses were built in blocks, which were square like those of Manyema, and they contained various fancy articles, some of them displaying great taste. Here Stanley saw curiously carved bits of wood, and handsome spoons, and for the first time in Africa, he beheld a cane settee.

The men carrying the boat did not come up for two days, and then quite broken and disheartened. Indeed, here almost at the very outset, everything seemed to point to an early dissolution of the expedition.

Not only were his men discontented, but Tipo-tipo, with all his elegance of manner and pompous pretence, began to glower and grumble, not merely at the hards.h.i.+ps his people were compelled to encounter, but because sickness had broken out in his camp.

On the 13th, three hundred out of the seven hundred of his men branched off from the expedition. The marching now became not only monotonous but extremely painful, and so slow that it took a whole day's march to make a distance of nine miles--a rate of progress that Stanley saw very clearly would never bring him to the Atlantic Ocean. They had now been seven days on the march and had made but about forty miles, and scarcely _one_ mile west. Thus far their course had been almost due north toward the great desert of Sahara, and not toward the Atlantic Ocean. These five days had been utterly thrown away, so far as progress in the right direction was concerned; not an inch had been gained, and the whole expedition was discouraged. The carriers of the boat begged Stanley to throw it away or go back to Nyangwe, while the Arab chiefs made no attempt to conceal their discontent, but openly expressed their disinclination to proceed any farther. Even the splendid barbarian dandy, Tipo-tipo, who prided himself on his superiority to all other Arabs, began to look moody, while increasing sickness in the camp cast additional gloom over it. Huge serpents crossed their path, while all sorts of wild beasts and vermin peopled the dense forest and swarmed around them.

On the 15th, they made but six miles and a half and yet, short as was the distance, it took the men carrying the boat twenty-four hours to make it, and all were so weary that a halt of an entire day was ordered to let them rest. In addition to this, the forest became ten times more matted than before. Both the heavier timber and the undergrowth grew thicker and thicker, shutting out not only the light of the sun, but every particle of moving air, so that the atmosphere became suffocating and stifling. Panting for breath, the little army crawled and wormed itself through the interlacing branches, and when night came down were utterly disheartened. Even the elegant Tipo-tipo now gave out, and came to Stanley to be released from his engagement. It was in vain that the latter appealed to his honor, his pride and fear of ridicule should he now turn back to Nyangwe. But to everything he could urge, the very sensible answer was returned: "If there is nothing worse than this before us, it will yet take us, at the rate we are going, a year to make the sixty marches and as long a time to return. You are only killing everybody by your obstinacy; such a country was never made for decent men to travel in, it was made for pagans and monkeys."

It is in circ.u.mstances like these that those qualities which have made Stanley the most successful explorer of modern times, exhibit themselves. Napoleon said, when speaking of troops, "Even brave soldiers have their '_moment de peur_,'" the time when they shrink. But this man seems an exception to this rule. To him the moment of fear never seems to come, for he never feels the contagion of example. He adheres to his resolution to go on, if but a handful stand by him. He seems impervious to the contagion that seizes others, and a panic in battle would sweep by him unmoved. After talking to Tipo-tipo for two hours, he finally got him to agree to accompany him twenty marches farther.

There were two things in this village, shut up in the heart of the forest, that impressed Stanley very much. He found here a primitive forge, in which the natives smelted iron-ore, found in the neighborhood, and a smithy, in which the iron was worked up into instruments of all kinds, from a small knife to a cleaver; hatchets, hammers, even wire and ornaments for the arms and legs were made. How this rude people, to whom even an Arab trader had never come, should have discovered the properties of iron-ore, how to disengage the iron and then work it into every variety of instruments, is inexplicable. The whole must have been the product of the brain of some native genius.

The other remarkable thing was a double row of skulls, running the entire length of the village, set in the ground, leaving the naked, round top glistening in the sun. There were nearly two hundred of them.

Amazed, he asked his Arabs what they were, they replied "soko skulls."

The soko, Cameron calls a gorilla, and we have no doubt many of the remarkable stories about gorillas refer to this monkey. But Livingstone says it is an animal resembling the gorilla, and his account of their habits shows they are not the fierce, fearless gorilla that is afraid of neither man nor beast. The soko is about four feet ten inches in height, and often walks erect, with his hands resting on his head as if to steady himself. With a yellow face adorned with ugly whiskers, a low forehead and high ears, he looks as if he might be a hideous cross between a man and a beast. His teeth, though dog-like in their size, still slightly resemble those found in the human head. The fingers are almost exactly like the natives. He is cunning and crafty, and will often stalk a man or woman as stealthily as a hunter will a deer. He seldom does much damage, unless driven to bay, when he fights fiercely.

He takes great pleasure in nabbing children and carrying them up into a tree and holding them in his arms, but if a bunch of bananas is thrown on the ground he will descend, and leaving the child, will seize it. He seldom uses his teeth, but in conflict with a man he has been known to bite off his opponent's fingers and then let him go. They are hunted and trapped by the natives for their flesh, which is regarded as very good eating.

[Ill.u.s.tration: NATIVES HUNTING SOKOS.]

Stanley, not satisfied with the answer of his men concerning the skulls, sent for the chief and asked him whose they were. He said of the sokos, which they hunt because of the destruction they make of the bananas, and that their meat was good. Stanley offered him a hundred cowries if he would bring one to him alive or dead. The chief went into the woods to hunt them, but at evening returned without success. He, however, gave him a portion of what he affirmed to be the skin of one. Stanley had the curiosity to take two of these skulls home with him, and gave them to Professor Huxley to examine, who reported they were the skulls of a man and a woman. Stanley, therefore, came to the conclusion that they were the skulls of men and women who had been eaten by these cannibals. But we do not believe this conclusion fairly justifiable, from Professor Huxley's report on two skulls. In the first place, the Arabs would scarcely have made such a mistake as this implies--they had seen too many soko skulls. In the second place, the chief corroborated their statement, and he had no reason for telling a falsehood. If those skulls were placed thus prominently in the streets, it was to boast of them, not to lie about them. It is far more likely that there were a few human skulls mixed in with the sokos, and that when Stanley asked for a couple, the largest and best-shaped were selected for him which proved to belong to human beings. His hunting for one was certainly not to prove he had told Stanley a falsehood. The same peculiarity was noticed here that Baker mentions of the natives of Fatiko--the women go naked, while the men are partly covered with skins. The whole apparel of the women is an ap.r.o.n four inches square.

On the 19th of March, they reached the Lualaba, sweeping majestically through the silent forest. Stanley immediately determined there should be no more tangled forests for him, but that the broad current of the river should bear him to the Atlantic Ocean or to death. The camp was prepared and the breakfast eaten, while Poc.o.ke was getting the Lady Alice screwed together. Soon she was launched on the stream, amid the huzzas of the party. Although the river here was nearly three-quarters of a mile wide, and the opposite sh.o.r.e appeared like an uninhabited forest, yet sharp eyes detected the wonderful apparition that had appeared on the farther sh.o.r.e, and the news spread so rapidly, that when Stanley in the Lady Alice approached it, he saw the woods alive with human beings, and several canoes tied to the sh.o.r.e. He hailed them, and tried to make a bargain with them to transport his party across. They refused point-blank, but afterwards seemed to relent and offered to exchange blood-brotherhood with them, and appointed a place on a neighboring island where the ceremony should be performed. It was, however, discovered that it was a treacherous plot to murder them, and but for precautions taken in view of its possibility, there would have been a fight.

Stanley now determined to cross his men by detachments in his own boat.

He took over thirty above the village and told the natives that they had better a.s.sist him in carrying over the rest, for which he promised they should be well paid. They finally consented, and the whole expedition was soon landed safely on the left bank of the river.

CHAPTER XXII.

FLOATING DOWN THE CONGO.

Having been ferried across the river by the natives, Stanley felt quite secure of the friends.h.i.+p of this first tribe he had met on the banks of the Lualaba. But here he resolved to change its name to Livingstone, which ever after he continues to call it. Villages lined the banks, all, he says, adorned with skulls of human beings. But instead of finding the inhabitants of them friendly, there were none to be seen; all had mysteriously disappeared, whether from fright or to arouse the tribes below, it was impossible to determine; it seemed from the former, for notwithstanding they had overcome their first fear so much as to ferry the expedition across the river, they had not taken away their canoes, nor carried with them their provisions. Leaving these untouched, as a sort of promise to the tribes below that their property should be held sacred, the expedition took up its march down the river. Stanley, with thirty-three men, went by water, in the Lady Alice, while Tipo-tipo and young Poc.o.ke with the rest of the party marched along the bank. Village after village was pa.s.sed; the natives uttering their wild war-cry, and then disappearing in the forest, leaving everything behind them.

Whether it was a peaceful village, or a crowded market-place they pa.s.sed, they inspired the same terror, and huts and market-places were alike deserted. This did not promise well for the future.

In the middle of the afternoon, Stanley, in the Lady Alice, came to a river one hundred yards wide. Knowing that the land party could not cross this without a boat, he halted to wait for its approach in order to ferry it over, and built a strong camp. This was on November 23d, 1876. At sunset it had not arrived, and he became anxious. Next morning it did not make its appearance, and still more anxious, he ascended this river, named the Ruigi, several miles, to see if they had struck it farther up.