May 4th. - -Arrived at Kingwere's Ferry, but we were unable to
attract the attention of the canoe paddler. Between our camp and
Bagamoyo we have an inundated plain that is at least four miles
broad. The ferrying of our Expedition across this broad watery
waste will occupy considerable time.
May 5th. - Kingwere, the canoe proprietor, came about 11 A.M.
from his village at Gongoni, beyond the watery plain. By his
movements I am fain to believe him to be a descendant of some
dusky King Log, for I have never seen in all this land the
attributes and peculiarities of that royal personage so
faithfully illustrated as in Kingwere. He brought two canoes
with him, short, cranky things, in which only twelve of us
could embark at a time. It was 3 o'clock in the afternoon
before we arrived at Gongoni village.
May 6th. - After impressing Kingwere with the urgent necessity of
quick action on his part, with a promise of an extra five-dollar
gold piece, I had the satisfaction to behold the last man reach
my camp at 3.30 p.m.
An hour later, and we are en route, at a pace that I never saw
equalled at any time by my caravan. Every man's feelings are
intensified, for there is an animated, nay, headlong, impetuosity
about their movements that indicates but too well what is going on
in their minds. Surely, my own are a faithful index to their
feelings; and I do not feel a whit too proud to acknowledge the
great joy that possesses me. I feel proud to think that I have
been successful; but, honestly, I do not feel so elated at that
as at the hope that to-morrow I shall sit before a table bounteous
with the good things of this life. How I will glory in the hams,
and potatoes, and good bread! What a deplorable state of mind,
is it not? Ah, my friend, wait till you are reduced to a
skeleton by gaunt famine and coarse, loathsome food - until you
have waded a Makata swamp, and marched 525 miles in thirty-five
days through such weather as we have had - then you will think
such pabula, food fit for gods!
Happy are we that, - after completing our mission, after the hurry
and worry of the march, after the anxiety and vexation suffered
from fractious tribes, after tramping for the last fifteen days
through mire and Stygian marsh, - we near Beulah's peace and rest!
Can we do otherwise than express our happiness by firing away
gunpowder until our horns are emptied - than shout our "hurrahs"
until we are hoarse - than, with the hearty, soul-inspiring
"Yambos," greet every mother's son fresh from the sea? Not so,
think the Wangwana soldiers; and I so sympathize with them that
I permit them to act their maddest without censure.
