How I found Livingstone : $b Travels, adventures, and discoveres in Central Africa, including an account of four months' residence with Dr. LivingstoneStanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
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How I found Livingstone : $b Travels, adventures, and discoveres in Central Africa, including an account of four months' residence with Dr. Livingstone
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Livingstone, David, 1813-1873
Half dead with fatigue, I yet could feel thankful that it was not
accompanied by fever, which it seemed a miracle to avoid; for if ever a
district was cursed with the ague, the Makata wilderness ranks foremost
of those afflicted. Surely the sight of the dripping woods enveloped
in opaque mist, of the inundated country with lengthy swathes of
tiger-grass laid low by the turbid flood, of mounds of decaying trees
and canes, of the swollen river and the weeping sky, was enough to
engender the mukunguru! The well-used khambi, and the heaps of filth
surrounding it, were enough to create a cholera!
The Makata, a river whose breadth during the dry season is but forty
feet, in the Masika season assumes the breadth, depth, and force of an
important river. Should it happen to be an unusually rainy season, it
inundates the great plain which stretches on either side, and converts
it into a great lake. It is the main feeder of the Wami river, which
empties into the sea between the ports of Saadani and Whinde. About ten
miles north-east of the Makata crossing, the Great Makata, the Little
Makata, a nameless creek, and the Rudewa river unite; and the river thus
formed becomes known as the Wami. Throughout Usagara the Wami is known
as the Mukondokwa. Three of these streams take their rise from the
crescent-like Usagara range, which bounds the Makata plain south and
south-westerly; while the Rudewa rises in the northern horn of the same
range.
So swift was the flow of the Makata, and so much did its unsteady
bridge, half buried in the water, imperil the safety of the property,
that its transfer from bank to bank occupied fully five hours. No sooner
had we landed every article on the other side, undamaged by the water,
than the rain poured down in torrents that drenched them all, as if they
had been dragged through the river. To proceed through the swamp which
an hour's rain had formed was utterly out of the question. We were
accordingly compelled to camp in a place where every hour furnished its
quota of annoyance. One of the Wangwana soldiers engaged at Bagamoyo,
named Kingaru, improved an opportunity to desert with another Mgwana's
kit. My two detectives, Uledi (Grant's valet), and Sarmean, were
immediately despatched in pursuit, both being armed with American
breech-loaders. They went about their task with an adroitness and
celerity which augured well for their success. In an hour they returned
with the runaway, having found him hidden in the house of a Mseguhha
chief called Kigondo, who lived about a mile from the eastern bank of
the river, and who had accompanied Uledi and Sarmean to receive his
reward, and render an account of the incident.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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