But wait, we
must behold it first. And we press forward and up the hill
breathlessly, lest the grand scene hasten away. We are at last on
the summit. Ah! not yet can it be seen. A little further on - just
yonder, oh! there it is - a silvery gleam. I merely catch sight of
it between the trees, and - but here it is at last! True - THE TANGANIKA!
and there are the blue-black mountains of Ugoma and Ukaramba. An
immense broad sheet, a burnished bed of silver - lucid canopy of
blue above - lofty mountains are its valances, palm forests form its
fringes! The Tanganika! - Hurrah! and the men respond to the
exultant cry of the Anglo-Saxon with the lungs of Stentors, and the
great forests and the hills seem to share in our triumph.
"Was this the place where Burton and Speke stood, Bombay, when they
saw the lake first?"
"I don't remember, master; it was somewhere about here, I think."
"Poor fellows! The one was half-paralyzed, the other half-blind,"
said Sir Roderick Murchison, when he described Burton and Spoke's
arrival in view of the Tanganika.
And I? Well, I am so happy that, were I quite paralyzed and
blinded, I think that at this supreme moment I could take up my
bed and walk, and all blindness would cease at once. Fortunately,
however, I am quite well; I have not suffered a day's sickness
since the day I left Unyanyembe. How much would Shaw be willing
to give to be in my place now? Who is happiest - he revelling in
the luxuries of Unyanyembe, or I, standing on the summit of this
mountain, looking down with glad eyes and proud heart on the
Tanganika?
We are descending the western slope of the mountain, with the
valley of the Liuche before us. Something like an hour before
noon we have gained the thick matete brake, which grows on both
banks of the river; we wade through the clear stream, arrive on
the other side, emerge out of the brake, and the gardens of the
Wajiji are around us - a perfect marvel of vegetable wealth.
Details escape my hasty and partial observation. I am almost
overpowered with my own emotions. I notice the graceful palms,
neat plots, green with vegetable plants, and small villages
surrounded with frail fences of the matete-cane.
We push on rapidly, lest the news of our coming might reach the
people of Ujiji before we come in sight, and are ready for them.
We halt at a little brook, then ascend the long slope of a naked
ridge, the very last of the myriads we have crossed. This alone
prevents us from seeing the lake in all its vastness. We arrive
at the summit, travel across and arrive at its western rim, and -
pause, reader - the port of Ujiji is below us, embowered in the
palms, only five hundred yards from us!
