Bomani, where camp was formed, and everybody fairly appointed
to bis place. The process of camp-forming would
be th u s: Sheikh Said, with Bombay under him, issues
cloths to the men for rations at the rate of one-fourth
load a-day (about 15 lb.) amongst 165 ; the Hottentots
cook our dinners and their own, or else lie rolling on the
ground overcome by fatigue; the Belfichs are supposed to
guard the camp, but prefer gossip and brightening their
arms. Some men are told off to look after the mules,
donkeys, and goats, whilst out grazing; the rest have to
pack the kit, pitch our tents, cut boughs for huts and for
fencing in the camp—a thing rarely done, by the by.
After cooking, when the night has set in, the everlasting
dance begins, attended with clapping of hands and jingling
small bells strapped to the legs—the whole being
accompanied by a constant repetition of senseless words,
which stand in place of the song to the negroes; for song
they have none, being mentally incapacitated for musical
composition, though as timists they are not to be surpassed.
What remains to be told is the daily occupation of
Captain Grant, myself, and our private servants. Beginning
at the foot: Bahan, a very peppery little negro, who
had served in a British man-of-war at the taking of
Rangoon, was my valet; and Baraka, who had been
trained much in the same manner, but had seen engagements
at Multan, was Captain Grant’s. They both knew
Hindiistani; but while Rahan’s services at sea had been
short, Baraka had served nearly all his life with Englishmen—
was the smartest and most intelligent negro I ever
saw—was invaluable to Colonel Rigby as a detector of
slave-traders, and enjoyed his confidence completely so
much so, that he said, on parting with him, that he did
not know where he should be able to find another man
to fill his post. These two men had now charge of our
tents and personal kit, while Baraka was considered the
general of the Wanguana forces, and Rahan a captain of ten.
My first occupation was to map the country. This is
done by timing the rate of march with a watch, taking
compass-bearings along the road, or on any conspicuous
marks—as, for instance, hills off it—and by noting the
watershed — in short, all topographical objects. On
arrival in camp every day came the ascertaining, by boiling
a thermometer, of the altitude of the station above the
sea-level; of the latitude of the station by the meridian
altitude of a star taken with a sextant; and of the compass
variation by azimuth. Occasionally there was the
fi-dng of certain crucial stations, at intervals of sixty miles
or so, by lunar observations, or distances of the moon
either from the sun or from certain given stars, for determining
the longitude, by which the original-timed course
can be drawn out with certainty on the map by proportion.
Should a date be lost, you can always discover it by taking
a lunar distance and comparing it with the Nautical
Almanac, by noting the time when a star passes the
meridian if your watch is right, or by observing the phases
of the moon, or her rising or setting, as compared with
the Nautical Almanac. The rest of my work, besides
j sketching and keeping a diary, which was the most trouble-
!; some of all, consisted in making geological and zoological
I collections. With Captain Grant tested the botanical
I collections and thermometrical registers. He also boiled
I one of the thermometers, kept the rain-gauge, and under-
I took the photography; but after a time I sent the instru-
I ments back, considering this work too severe for the
I climate, and he tried instead sketching with water-
I colours—the results of which form the chief part of the
I illustrations in this book. The rest of our day went in
p breakfasting after the march was over—a pipe, to prepare
K us for rummaging the fields and villages to discover their
I contents for scientific purposes—dinner close to sunset,
I and tea and pipe before turning in at night.
A short stage brought us to Ikamburu, included in the