The first camp, Shamba Gonera, we arrived at in 1 hour 30 minutes, equal to 3¼ miles. This first, or "little journey," was performed very well, "considering," as the Irishman says. The boy Selim upset the cart not more than three times. Zaidi, the soldier, only once let his donkey, which carried one bag of my clothes and a box of ammunition, lie in a puddle of black water. The clothes have to be re-washed; the ammunition-box, thanks to my provision, was waterproof. Kamna perhaps knew the art of donkey-driving, but, overjoyful at the departure, had sung himself into oblivion of the difficulties with which an animal of the pure asinine breed has naturally to contend against, such as not knowing the right road, and inability to resist the temptation of straying into the depths of a manioc field; and the donkey, ignorant of the custom in vogue amongst ass-drivers of flourishing sticks before an animal's nose, and misunderstanding the direction in which he was required to go, ran off at full speed along an opposite road, until his pack got unbalanced, and he was fain to come to the earth. But these incidents were trivial, of no importance, and natural to the first "little journey" in East Africa.
The soldiers' point of character leaked out just a little. Bombay turned out to be honest and trusty, but slightly disposed to be dilatory. Uledi did more talking than work; while the runaway Ferajji and the useless-handed Mabruki Burton turned out to be true men and staunch, carrying loads the sight of which would have caused the strong-limbed hamals of Stamboul to sigh.
The saddles were excellent, surpassing expectation. The strong hemp canvas bore its one hundred and fifty-pounds' burden with the strength of bull hide, and the loading and unloading of miscellaneous baggage was performed with systematic despatch. In brief, there was nothing to regret—the success of the journey proved our departure to be anything but premature.
The next three days were employed in putting the finishing touches to our preparations for the long land journey and our precautions against the Masika, which was now ominously near, and in settling accounts.
Shamba Gonera means Gonera's Field. Gonera is a wealthy Indian widow, well disposed towards the Wasungu (whites). She exports much cloth, beads, and wire into the far interior, and imports in return much ivory. Her house is after the model of the town houses, with long sloping roof and projecting eaves, affording a cool shade, under which the pagazis love to loiter. On its southern and eastern side stretch the cultivated fields which supply Bagamoyo with the staple grain, matama, of East Africa; on the left grow Indian corn, and muhogo, a yam-like root of whitish colour, called by some manioc; when dry, it is ground and compounded into cakes similar to army slapjacks. On the north, just behind the house, winds a black quagmire, a sinuous hollow, which in its deepest parts always contains water—the muddy home of the brake-and-rush-loving "kiboko" or hippopotamus. Its banks, crowded with dwarf fan-palm, tall water-reeds, acacias, and tiger-grass, afford shelter to numerous aquatic birds, pelicans, &c. After following a course north-easterly, it conflows with the Kingani, which, at distance of four miles from Gonera's country-house; bends eastward into the sea. To the west, after a mile of cultivation, fall and recede in succession the sea-beach of old in lengthy parallel waves, overgrown densely with forest grass and marsh reeds. On the spines of these land-swells flourish ebony, calabash, and mango.
"Sofari—sofari leo! Pakia, pakia!"—"A journey—a journey to day! Set out!—set out!" rang the cheery voice of the kirangozi, echoed by that of my servant Selim, on the morning of the fourth day, which was fixed for our departure in earnest. As I hurried my men to their work, and lent a hand with energy to drop the tents, I mentally resolved that, if my caravans a should give me clear space, Unyanyembe should be our resting-place before three months expired. By 6 A.m. our early breakfast was despatched, and the donkeys and pagazis were defiling from Camp Gonera. Even at this early hour, and in this country place, there was quite a collection of curious natives, to whom we gave the parting "Kwaheri" with sincerity. My bay horse was found to be invaluable for the service of a quarter-master of a transport-train; for to such was I compelled to compare myself. I could stay behind until the last donkey had quitted the camp, and, by a few minutes' gallop, I could put myself at the head, leaving Shaw to bring up the rear.
The road was a mere footpath, and led over a soil which, though sandy, was of surprising fertility, producing grain and vegetables a hundredfold, the sowing and planting of which was done in the most unskilful manner. In their fields, at heedless labor, were men and women in the scantiest costumes, compared to which Adam and Eve, in their fig-tree apparel, must have been en grande tenue. We passed them with serious faces, while they laughed and giggled, and pointed their index fingers at this and that, which to them seemed so strange and bizarre.
In about half an hour we had left the tall matama and fields of water-melons, cucumbers, and manioc; and, crossing a reedy slough, were in an open forest of ebony and calabash. In its depths are deer in plentiful numbers, and at night it is visited by the hippopotami of the Kingani for the sake of its grass. In another hour we had emerged from the woods, and were looking down upon the broad valley of the Kingani, and a scene presented itself so utterly different from what my foolish imagination had drawn, that I felt quite relieved by the pleasing disappointment. Here was a valley stretching four miles east and west, and about eight miles north and south, left with the richest soil to its own wild growth of grass—which in civilization would have been a most valuable meadow for the rearing of cattle—invested as it was by dense forests, darkening the horizon at all points of the compass, and folded in by tree-clad ridges.
At the sound of our caravan the red antelope bounded away to our right and the left, and frogs hushed their croak. The sun shone hot, and while traversing the valley we experienced a little of its real African fervour. About half way across we came to a sluice of stagnant water which, directly in the road of the caravan, had settled down into an oozy pond. The pagazis crossed a hastily-constructed bridge, thrown up a long time ago by some Washensi Samaritans. It was an extraordinary affair; rugged tree limbs resting on very unsteady forked piles, and it had evidently tested the patience of many a loaded Mnyamwezi, as it did those porters of our caravan. Our weaker animals were unloaded, the puddle between Bagamoyo and Genera having taught us prudence. But this did not occasion much delay; the men worked smartly under Shaw's supervision.
The turbid Kingani, famous for its hippopotami, was reached in a short time, and we began to thread the jungle along its right bank until we were halted point-blank by a narrow sluice having an immeasurable depth of black mud. The difficulty presented by this was very grave, though its breadth was barely eight feet; the donkeys, and least of all the horses, could not be made to traverse two poles like our biped carriers, neither could they be driven into the sluice, where they would quickly founder. The only available way of crossing it in safety was by means of a bridge, to endure in this conservative land for generations as the handiwork of the Wasungu. So we set to work, there being no help for it, with American axes—the first of their kind the strokes of which ever rang in this part of the world—to build a bridge. Be sure it was made quickly, for where the civilized white is found, a difficulty must vanish. The bridge was composed of six stout trees thrown across, over these were laid crosswise fifteen pack saddles, covered again with a thick layer of grass. All the animals crossed it safely, and then for a third time that morning the process of wading was performed. The Kingani flowed northerly here, and our course lay down its right bank. A half mile in that direction through a jungle of giant reeds and extravagant climbers brought us to the ferry, where the animals had to be again unloaded—verily, I wished when I saw its deep muddy waters that I possessed the power of Moses with his magic rod, or what would have answered my purpose as well, Aladdin's ring, for then I could have found myself and party on the opposite side without further trouble; but not having either of these gifts I issued orders for