“ Master, have done with these questions.
Command your party. A ll your people are your
children, and th ey will not disobey you. While
y o u ask them as a friend, no one will offer his
services. Command them, and th ey will all g o .”
So I selected a chief, Wadi Safeni— the son o f
Safeni— and told him to pick out the elect o f the
yo un g men. Wadi Safeni chose men who knew
nothing o f boat life. Then I called Kacheche,
the detective, and told him to ascertain the
names o f th o s e . young men who were accustomed
to sea life, upon which Kacheche informed
me that the yoting guides first selected b y me
at Bagamoyo were the sailors o f the E xp edition.
A fte r reflecting upon the capacities o f the
younge r men, as they had developed themselves
on the road, I made a list o f ten sailors and a
steersman, to whose fidelity I was willing to
entrust myself and fortunes while coasting round
the Victorian Sea.
A c co rd in g ly , after drawing up instructions for
Frank Pocock and Fred Barker on about a
score o f matters concerning the well-being o f
the Expedition during my absence, and enlisting
for them, b y an adequate gift, the good-will
o f Sungoro and Prince Kaduma, I set sail on
the 8th March 1875, eastward along the shores
o f the broad arm o f the lake which we first
sighted, and which henceforward is known, in
honour o f its first discoverer, as “ S p ek e Gulf.”
CH A P T E R Vm.
Afloat on the lake—-We catch a guide— Saramba’s terror—
The Shimeey'u— Pyramid Point— The island of Ukerewe
In the haunts of crocodiles— Shizu Island Ururi The
hippopotami— Volcanoes— The headlands of Goshi—Bridge
I s l a n d — U-go-weh— Treachery at Maheta— Primitive man
— The inebriates of Ugamba — The art of pleasing A
night at Uvuma— Mobbed by Wavuma— Barmecide fare
— Message from Mtesa— “ In the Kabaka’s name” — Camp
on Soweh Island.
(March 8—April 4, 1875.)
A f l o a t on the waters o f S p ek e Gulf! T h e s k y
is gloomy, and the light g r e y water has become
a dull ashen g re y ; the rocks are bare and
rugged; and the land, sympathizing with the
gloom above, appears silent and lonely. The
people sigh dolorously, their rowing is as that
o f men who think th ey are bound to certain
death, and now and again wistful lo o k s are
thrown towards me as though they expected an
order to return. Their hearts are full o f misgivings.
S low ly , however, we move through the
dull, dead waters; slowly we pass b y the dull
g re y rocks o f Lutari Point, and still slower do
the boatmen row when the rugged rocks shut