The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Biography; Explorers -- Africa -- Biography; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
Beyond Utiri loomed the dark mountainous mass of Ugeyeya; to the west of
it, grim and lofty, frowned the island of Uguigo. Grey rocky islets
studded the coast. By swelling and uneven lines of hills, gentle slopes
all agreen with young grass, on which many herds and flocks
industriously fed, past many a dark headland, and cliffy walls of rock,
and lovely bays, edged by verdure and forest, and cosy lake-ports, the
boat sailed day after day, some curious adventure marking each day’s
voyage, until the boat’s head was turned westward.
While close to the shore of Ugamba, a war-canoe manned by forty paddlers
drew near to us. When within fifty yards, most of them dropped their
paddles and flourished tufted lances and shields. We sat still; they
wheeled round us, defyingly shaking their spears; they edged nearer, and
ranged their canoe alongside. Lamb-like, we gazed on them; they bullied
us, and laid their hands on everything within reach. We smiled placidly,
for resentment we had none. We even permitted them to handle our persons
freely. Tired with that, they seized their slings and tried to terrify
us with the whiz of the stones, which flew by our heads dangerously
near. They then chanted a war-song, and one, cheered by the sound,
became bolder, and whirled a rock at my head. I fired a revolver into
the water, and the warriors at once sprang into the lake and dived, as
though in search of the bullet. Not finding it, I suppose, they swam
away, and left the fine canoe in our hands!
We were delighted, of course, at the fun; we begged them to come back.
After much coaxing, they returned and got into their canoe. We
spoke--oh, so blandly!--to them. They were respectful, but laughed as
they thought of the boom, boom, boom, of the pistol. They gave me a
bunch of bananas, and we mutually admired one another. At last we
parted.
Another gale visited us at Usuguru, blowing as though from above. Its
force seemed to compress the water; repelled by the weightier element,
it brushed its face into millions of tiny ripples. Suddenly, the
temperature fell 20°; hailstones as large as filberts pelted us; and,
for fully ten minutes, we cowered under the icy shower. Then such
tropical torrents of rain poured, that every utensil was employed to
bale the boat to prevent foundering. The deluge lasted for hours, but
near night we uncovered, baled the boat dry, and crept for refuge,
through the twilight, into a wild arbour on an island, there to sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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