Unaccountably been
entrusted to a drunken half-caste Moslem tailor, who, after
squandering them for sixteen months on the way to Ujiji; finished
up by selling off all that remained for slaves and ivory for himself.
He had "divined" on the Koran and found that I was dead. He had
also written to the Governor of Unyanyembe that he had sent slaves
after me to Manyuema, who returned and reported my decease, and
begged permission to sell off the few goods that his drunken
appetite had spared.
He, however, knew perfectly well, from men who had seen me, that
I was alive, and waiting for the goods and men; but as for morality,
he is evidently an idiot, and there being no law here except that
of the dagger or musket, I had to sit down in great weakness,
destitute of everything save a few barter cloths and beads, which
I had taken the precaution to leave here in case of extreme need.
The near prospect of beggary among Ujijians made me miserable.
I could not despair, because I laughed so much at a friend who,
on reaching the mouth of the Zambezi, said that he was tempted
to despair on breaking the photograph of his wife. We could have
no success after that. Afterward the idea of despair had to me
such a strong smack of the ludicrous that it was out of the
question.
Well, when I had got to about the lowest verge, vague rumors of
an English visitor reached me. I thought of myself as the man
who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho; but neither priest, Levite,
nor Samaritan could possibly pass my way. Yet the good Samaritan
was close at hand, and one of my people rushed up at the top of
his speed, and, in great excitement, gasped out, "An Englishman
coming! I see him!" and off he darted to meet him.
An American flag, the first ever seen in these parts, at the head
of a caravan, told me the nationality of the stranger.
I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are usually
reputed to be; but your kindness made my frame thrill. It was,
indeed, overwhelming, and I said in my soul, "Let the richest
blessings descend from the Highest on you and yours!"
The news Mr. Stanley had to tell was thrilling. The mighty
political changes on the Continent; the success of the Atlantic
cables; the election of General Grant, and many other topics'
riveted my attention for days together, and had an immediate and
beneficial effect on my health. I had been without news from
home for years save what I could glean from a few 'Saturday
Reviews' and 'Punch' of 1868. The appetite revived, and in a
week I began to feel strong again.
Mr. Stanley brought a most kind and encouraging despatch from
Lord Clarendon (whose loss I sincerely deplore), the first I have
received from the Foreign Office since 1866, and information that
the British Government had kindly sent a thousand pounds sterling
to my aid. Up to his arrival I was not aware of any pecuniary
aid. I came unsalaried, but this want is now happily repaired,
and I am anxious that you and all my friends should know that,
though uncheered by letter, I have stuck to the task which my
friend Sir Roderick Murchison set me with "John Bullish" tenacity,
believing that all would come right at last.
The watershed of South Central Africa is over seven hundred wiles
in length. The fountains thereon are almost innumerable - that is,
it would take a man's lifetime to count them. From the watershed
they converge into four large rivers, and these again into two
mighty streams in the great Nile valley, which begins in ten degrees
to twelve degrees south latitude. It was long ere light dawned on
the ancient problem and gave me a clear idea of the drainage. I had
to feel my way, and every step of the way, and was, generally,
groping in the dark - for who cared where the rivers ran? "We drank
our fill and let the rest run by."
The Portuguese who visited Cazembe asked for slaves and ivory, and
heard of nothing else. I asked about the waters, questioned and
cross-questioned, until I was almost afraid of being set down as
afflicted with hydrocephalus.
My last work, in which I have been greatly hindered from want of
suitable attendants, was following the central line of drainage
down through the country of the cannibals, called Manyuema, or,
shortly Manyema. This line of drainage has four large lakes in
it. The fourth I was near when obliged to turn. It is from one
to three miles broad, and never can be reached at any point, or
at any time of the year. Two western drains, the Lufira, or Bartle
Frere's River, flow into it at Lake Kamolondo. Then the great
River Lomame flows through Lake Lincoln into it too, and seems
to form the western arm of the Nile, on which Petherick traded.
Now, I knew about six hundred miles of the watershed, and
unfortunately the seventh hundred is the most interesting of the
whole; for in it, if I am not mistaken, four fountains arise from
an earthen mound, and the last of the four becomes, at no great
distance off, a large river.
Two of these run north to Egypt, Lufira and Lomame, and two run
south into inner Ethiopia, as the Leambaye, or Upper Zambezi, and
the Kaful.
Are not these the sources of the Nile mentioned by the Secretary
of Minerva, in the city of Sais, to Herodotus?
I have heard of them so often, and at great distances off, that I
cannot doubt their existence, and in spite of the sore longing for
home that seizes me every time I think of my family, I wish to
finish up by their rediscovery.
