being the dread Macoco, of whom Bartolomeo
Diaz, Cada Mosto, and Dapper have written, is
still represented by one who inherits his ancient
kingdom and power, and surrounded by barbarous
pomp. Something strange must surely lie in the
vast space occupied by total blankness on our
maps, between Nyangwe and‘Tuckey’s Farthest’!
“ I seek a road to connect these two points.
We have laboured through the terrible forest,
and manfully struggled through the gloom. My
people’s hearts have become faint. I seek a road.
Why, here lies a broad watery avenue cleaving
the Unknown to some sea, like a path of light!
Here are woods all around, sufficient for a
thousand fleets of canoes. Why not build them?”
I sprang up; told the drummer to call to
muster. The people responded wearily to the
call. Frank and the chiefs appeared. The Arabs
and their escort came also, until a dense mass
of expectant faces surrounded me. I turned to
them and said:—
“Arabs! sons of Unyamwezi! children of Zanzibar!
listen to words. We have seen the Mi-
tamba of Uregga. We have tasted its bitterness,
and have groaned in spirit. We seek a road.
We seek something by which we may travel.
I seek a path that shall take me to the^sea. I
have found it.”
“ Ah! ah—h!” and murmurs and inquiring
looks at one another.
r Nov. 19, 1876. 1 t h e r o a d t o t h e s a l t s e a . 19 1
LThe Livingstone. J
“Yes! El hamd ul Illah. I have found it.
Regard this mighty river. From the beginning
it has flowed on thus, as you see it flow to-day.
It has flowed on in silence and darkness. Whither?
To the Salt Sea, as all rivers g o ! By that Salt
Sea, on which the great ships come and go,
live my friends and your friends. Do they not?”
Cries of “ Yes! yes!”
“ Yet, my people, though this river is so great,
so wide and deep, no man has ever penetrated
the distance lying between this spot on which
we stand and our white friends who live by the
Salt Sea. Why? Because it was left for us
to do.”
“ Ah, no! no! no!” and desponding shakes
of the head.
“Yes,” I continued, raising my voice; “ I tell
you, my friends, it has been left from the beginning
of time until to-day for us to do. It is
our work, and no other. It is the voice of Fate!
The O n e G o d has written that this year the
river shall be kown throughout its length! We
will have no more Mitambas; we will have no
more panting and groaning by the wayside; we
will haye no more hideous darkness; we will
take to the river , and keep to the river. Today
I shall launch my boat on that stream, and
it shall never leave it until I finish my work. I
swear it.
“Now, you Wangwana! You who have fol