This people, I was told, are so fierce in war that no other
tribe can stand against them, though they only fight with
short spears. When this discourse was ended, ever perplexed
about the Tanganyika being a still lake, I inquired
of Mohinna and other old friends what they thought
about the MartingQ. river: did it run into or out of the
lake? and they all still adhered to its running into the
lake;—which, after all, in my mind, is the most conclusive
argument that it does run out of the lake, making
it one of a chain of lakes leading to the N’yassa, and
through it by the Zambezi into the sea; for all the Arabs
on the former journey said the Riisizi river ran out of
the Tanganyika, as also the Kitangtild ran out of the
N’yanza, and the Nile ran into it, even though Snay said
he thought the Jub river drained the N’yanza. All these
statements were, when literally translated into K n g lisT y
the reverse of what the speakers, using a peculiar Arab
idiom, meant to say; for all the statements made as to
the flow of rivers by the negroes—who apparently give
the same meaning to “ out” and “ in” as we do—contradicted
the Ao-abs in their descriptions of the direction of
the flow of these rivers.
Mohinna now gave us a very graphic description of his
fight with Short-legs, the late chief of Khoko. About a
year ago, as he was making his way down to the coast
with his ivory merchandise, on arrival at Khoko, and
before his camp was fortified with a ring-fence of thorns,
some of his men went to drink at a well, where they no
sooner arrived than the natives began to beat them with
sticks, claiming the well as their property. This commenced
a row, which brought out a large body of men,
who demanded a bullock at the point of their spears.
Mohinna hearing this, also came to the well, and said he
would not listen to their demand, but would drink as he
wished, for the water was the gift of God. Words then
changed to blows. All Mohinna’s pagazis bolted, and his
merchandise fell into the hands of the Wagogo. Had his
camp been fortified, he thinks he would have been too
much for his enemies; but, as it was, he retaliated by
shooting Short-legs in the head, and at once bolted back
to Kazé with a few slaves as followers, and his three
wives.
The change that had taken place in ünyanyembé since
I last left it was quite surprising. Instead of the Arabs
appearing merchants, as they did formerly, they looked
more like great farmers, with huge stalls of cattle attached
to their houses; whilst the native villages were all
in ruins—so much so that, to obtain corn for my men, I
had to send out into the district several days’ journey off,
and even then had to pay the most severe famine prices
for what I got. The Wanyamüézi, I was assured, were
dying of starvation in all directions; for, in addition to
the war, the last rainy season had been so light, all their
crops had failed.
27th and 28th— I now gave all my men presents
for the severe trials they had experienced in the wilderness,
forgetting, as I told them, the merciless manner in
which they had plundered me; but as I gave a trifle
more, in proportion, to the three sole remaining pagazis,
because they had now finished their work, my men were
all discontented, and wished to throw back their presents,
saying I did not love them, although they were “ permin-
ents,” as much as the “ temperarles.” They, however,
gave in, after some hours of futile arguments, on my
making them understand, through Baraka, that what they
saw me give to the pagazis would, if they reflected, only
tend to prove to them that I was not a bad master who
forgot his obligations when he could get no more out of
his servants.
I then went into a long inquiry with Müsa about our
journey northward to Karagüé; and as he said there
were no men to be found in or near Ünyanyembé, for