Presentable an appearance as possible before the white
man with the grey beard, and before the Arabs of Ujiji; for the
clothes I have worn through jungle and forest are in tatters.
Good-night; only let one day come again, and we shall see what
we shall see.
November 10th. Friday. - The 236th day from Bagamoyo on the Sea,
and the 51st day from Unyanyembe. General direction to Ujiji,
west-by-south. Time of march, six hours.
It is a happy, glorious morning. The air is fresh and cool.
The sky lovingly smiles on the earth and her children. The deep
woods are crowned in bright vernal leafage; the water of the Mkuti,
rushing under the emerald shade afforded by the bearded banks,
seems to challenge us for the race to Ujiji, with its continuous
brawl.
We are all outside the village cane fence, every man of us looking
as spruce, as neat, and happy as when we embarked on the dhows at
Zanzibar, which seems to us to have been ages ago - we have witnessed
and experienced so much.
"Forward!"
"Ay Wallah, ay Wallah, bana yango!" and the lighthearted braves
stride away at a rate which must soon bring us within view of
Ujiji. We ascend a hill overgrown with bamboo, descend into a
ravine through which dashes an impetuous little torrent, ascend
another short hill, then, along a smooth footpath running across
the slope of a long ridge, we push on as only eager, lighthearted
men can do.
In two hours I am warned to prepare for a view of the Tanganika,
for, from the top of a steep mountain the kirangozi says I can see
it. I almost vent the feeling of my heart in cries. 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!
At this grand moment we do not think of the hundreds of miles we
have marched, or of the hundreds of hills that we have ascended
and descended, or of the many forests we have traversed, or of the
jungles and thickets that annoyed us, or of the fervid salt plains
that blistered our feet, or of the hot suns that scorched us, nor
of the dangers and difficulties, now happily surmounted!
At last the sublime hour has arrived; - our dreams, our hopes, and
anticipations are now about to be realised! Our hearts and our
feelings are with our eyes, as we peer into the palms and try to
make out in which hut or house lives the "white man with the grey
beard" we heard about when we were at the Malagarazi.
"Unfurl the flags, and load your guns!"
"We will, master, we will, master!" respond the men eagerly.
"One, two, three, - fire!"
A volley from nearly fifty guns roars like a salute from a
battery of artillery : we shall note its effect presently on
the peaceful-looking village below.
