The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume II (of 2), 1869-1873: Continued By A Narrative Of His Last Moments And Sufferings, Obtained From His Faithful Servants Chuma And SusiLivingstone, David
History
The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume II (of 2), 1869-1873: Continued By A Narrative Of His Last Moments And Sufferings, Obtained From His Faithful Servants Chuma And Susi
Livingstone, David
Africa, Central -- Description and travel
_4th April, 1873._--Sent over to Kabinga to buy a cow, and got a fat one
for 2-1/2 dotis, to give the party a feast ere we start. The kambari
fish of the Chambezé is three feet three inches in length.
Two others, the "polwé" and "lopatakwao," all go up the Chambezé to
spawn when the rains begin. Casembe's people make caviare of the spawn
of the "pumbo."
[The next entry is made in a new pocket-book, numbered XVII. For the
first few days pen and ink were used, afterwards a well-worn stump of
pencil, stuck into a steel penholder and attached to a piece of bamboo,
served his purpose.]
_5th April, 1873._--March from Kabinga's on the Chambezé, our luggage in
canoes, and men on land. We punted on flood six feet deep, with many
ant-hills all about, covered with trees. Course S.S.E. for five miles,
across the River Lobingela, sluggish, and about 300 yards wide.
_6th April, 1873._--Leave in the same way, but men were sent from
Kabinga to steal the canoes, which we paid his brother Mateysa
handsomely for. A stupid drummer, beating the alarm in the distance,
called us inland; we found the main body of our people had gone on, and
so by this, our party got separated,[31] and we pulled and punted six or
seven hours S.W. in great difficulty, as the fishermen we saw refused to
show us where the deep water lay. The whole country S. of the Lake was
covered with water, thickly dotted over with lotus-leaves and rushes. It
has a greenish appearance, and it might be well on a map to show the
spaces annually flooded by a broad wavy band, twenty, thirty, and even,
forty miles out from the permanent banks of the Lake: it might be
coloured light green. The broad estuaries fifty or more miles, into
which the rivers form themselves, might be coloured blue, but it is
quite impossible at present to tell where land ends, and Lake begins; it
is all water, water everywhere, which seems to be kept from flowing
quickly off by the narrow bed of the Luapula, which has perpendicular
banks, worn deep down in new red sandstone. It is the Nile apparently
enacting its inundations, even at its sources. The amount of water
spread out over the country constantly excites my wonder; it is
prodigious. Many of the ant-hills are cultivated and covered with dura,
pumpkins, beans, maize, but the waters yield food plenteously in fish
and lotus-roots. A species of wild rice grows, but the people neither
need it nor know it. A party of fishermen fled from us, but by coaxing
we got them to show us deep water. They then showed us an islet, about
thirty yards square, without wood, and desired us to sleep there. We
went on, and then they decamped.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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