thousands from Quillimane, during the last six years, to the
ports a little to the south, particularly to Massangano. Some
excellent brick-houses still stand in the place, and the owners
. View of Quillimane and of the Pioneer.
are generous and hospitable: among them our good friend,
Colonel Nunez. His disinterested kindness to us and to all
our countrymen can never be forgotten. He is a noble
example of what energy and uprightness may accomplish
even here. He came out as a cabin-boy, and, without a
single friend to- help him, he has persevered in an honourable
course until he is the richest man on the East Coast.
When Dr. Livingstone came down the Zambesi in 1856,
Colonel Nunez was the chief of the only four honourable,
trustworthy men in the country. But while he has
risen, a whole herd has sunk, making loud lamentations,
through puffs of cigar-smoke, over negro laziness; they might
add, their own.
All agricultural enterprise is virtually discouraged by the
Quillimane Government. A man must purchase a permit
from the Governor, when he wishes to visit his country farm;
and this tax, in a country where labour is unpopular, causes
the farms to be almost entirely left in the hands of a head
slave, who makes returns to his master as interest or honesty
prompts him. A passport must also be bought whenever a
man wishes to go up the river to Mazaro, Senna, or Tette, or
even to reside for a month at Quillimane. With a soil
and a climate well suited for the growth of the cane, abundance
of slave labour, and water communication to any
market in the world, they have never made their own
sugar. A11, they use is imported from Bombay. “ The
people of Quillimane have no enterprise,” said a young
European Portuguese, “ they do nothing, and are always
wasting their time in suffering, or in recovering from fever.”
We entered the Zambesi about the end of November and
found it unusuaHy low, so we did not get up to Shupanga
tiH the 19th of December. The friends of our Mazaro men,
who had now become good sailors and very attentive servants,
turned out and gave them a hearty welcome back
from the perils of the sea: they had begun to fear that
they would never return. We hired them at a sixteen-
yard piece of cloth a month—about ten shiHings’ worth, the
Portuguese market-price of the cloth being then sevenpence
halfpenny a yard,—and paid them five pieces each, for four-
and-a-half months’ work. A merchant at the same time paid
other Mazaro men three pieces for seven months, and they
were with him in the interior. If the merchants do not
prosper, it is not because labour is dear, but because it
is scarce, and because they are so eager on every occasion
to sell the workmen out of the country. Our men had
also received quantities of good clothes from the sailors