large number of slaves, and there are some fiery
souls amongst them, who resent the least disparagement
of their master. A bitter reproach
is soon followed by a vengeful blow, and then
the retainers and the chiefs of the Montagues
and Capulets issue forth with clubs, spears, and
guns, and Ujiji is all in an uproar, not to be
quieted until the respective friends of the two
rivals carry them bodily away to their houses.
On Arabs, Wangwana, and slaves alike I saw
the scars of feuds.
Abdullah bin Suliman and his partisans are
settled in Kasimbu, because Muini Kheri’s hotheaded
young Arab relations, Bana Makombe
and Muini Hassan, are for ever endangering the
peace by their insolence. The feud began by
a slave of Abdullah’s having attempted to stab
Bana Makombe, because the haughty young
Arab had spurned him once with his foot. Only
a few drops of the bluest blood from the aristocracy
of Sa’adani were drawn in the happily
abortive attempt, but the aristocrats mustered
in force. The coast Arabs residing at Kigoma
advanced towards Ujiji with 300 guns, and called
upon the governor to arm to avenge the blood
that had been shed. The governor, however,
called upon the Mutware, and the Wajiji swarmed
by the hundreds to attack Abdullah bin Suliman.
Fortunately Abdullah was prudent and met them
with only a few men. But though he mildly
expostulated with them that it was a drunken
slave who was the cause, he was condemned
to lose his right hand, from which fate, however,
he was saved by the governor relenting and
demanding instead the head of the murderous
slave.
It will be manifest, then, that the safety of a
European at Ujiji would be but precarious. Any
of his people, inspired by pombe or native wine,
might, at any moment, in drunken fury, mortally
wound an Arab or Mswahili of the coast, the
result of which would be that the European
would either have to forfeit all his goods or
his life, or decamp with his people immediately
to save himself.
Life in Ujiji begins soon after dawn, and, except
on moonlight nights, no one is abroad after
sunset. With the Arabs— to whom years are
as days to Europeans— it is a languid existence,
mostly spent in gossip, the interchange of dignified
visits, ceremonies of prayer, an hour or
two of barter, and small household affairs.
There were no letters for either Frank or
myself after our seventeen months’ travels around
and through the lake regions. From Kagehyi,
on Lake Victoria, I had despatched messages
t o ’Sayid bin Salim, governor of Unyanyembe,
praying him to send all letters addressed to me
to Muini Kheri, governor of Ujiji, promising him
a noble reward. Not that I was sure that I should