CHAPTER THIRTEENTH.
Change of Weather.--Kennedy has the Fever.--The Doctor’s
Medicine.--Travels on Land.--The Basin of Imenge.--Mount Rubeho.--Six
Thousand Feet Elevation.--A Halt in the Daytime.
The night was calm. However, on Saturday morning, Kennedy, as he awoke,
complained of lassitude and feverish chills. The weather was changing.
The sky, covered with clouds, seemed to be laying in supplies for a
fresh deluge. A gloomy region is that Zungomoro country, where it rains
continually, excepting, perhaps, for a couple of weeks in the month of
January.
A violent shower was not long in drenching our travellers. Below them,
the roads, intersected by “nullahs,” a sort of instantaneous torrent,
were soon rendered impracticable, entangled as they were, besides, with
thorny thickets and gigantic lianas, or creeping vines. The sulphuretted
hydrogen emanations, which Captain Burton mentions, could be distinctly
smelt.
“According to his statement, and I think he’s right,” said the doctor,
“one could readily believe that there is a corpse hidden behind every
thicket.”
“An ugly country this!” sighed Joe; “and it seems to me that Mr. Kennedy
is none the better for having passed the night in it.”
“To tell the truth, I have quite a high fever,” said the sportsman.
“There’s nothing remarkable about that, my dear Dick, for we are in one
of the most unhealthy regions in Africa; but we shall not remain here
long; so let’s be off.”
Thanks to a skilful manoeuvre achieved by Joe, the anchor was
disengaged, and Joe reascended to the car by means of the ladder. The
doctor vigorously dilated the gas, and the Victoria resumed her flight,
driven along by a spanking breeze.
Only a few scattered huts could be seen through the pestilential mists;
but the appearance of the country soon changed, for it often happens in
Africa that some of the unhealthiest districts lie close beside others
that are perfectly salubrious.
Kennedy was visibly suffering, and the fever was mastering his vigorous
constitution.
“It won’t do to fall ill, though,” he grumbled; and so saying, he
wrapped himself in a blanket, and lay down under the awning.
“A little patience, Dick, and you’ll soon get over this,” said the
doctor.
“Get over it! Egad, Samuel, if you’ve any drug in your travelling-chest
that will set me on my feet again, bring it without delay. I’ll swallow
it with my eyes shut!”
“Oh, I can do better than that, friend Dick; for I can give you a
febrifuge that won’t cost any thing.”
“And how will you do that?”
“Very easily. I am simply going to take you up above these clouds that
are now deluging us, and remove you from this pestilential atmosphere. I
ask for only ten minutes, in order to dilate the hydrogen.”
The ten minutes had scarcely elapsed ere the travellers were beyond the
rainy belt of country.
“Wait a little, now, Dick, and you’ll begin to feel the effect of pure
air and sunshine.”
“There’s a cure for you!” said Joe; “why, it’s wonderful!”
“No, it’s merely natural.”
“Oh! natural; yes, no doubt of that!”
“I bring Dick into good air, as the doctors do, every day, in Europe,
or, as I would send a patient at Martinique to the Pitons, a lofty
mountain on that island, to get clear of the yellow fever.”
“Ah! by Jove, this balloon is a paradise!” exclaimed Kennedy, feeling
much better already.
“It leads to it, anyhow!” replied Joe, quite gravely.
It was a curious spectacle--that mass of clouds piled up, at the moment,
away below them! The vapors rolled over each other, and mingled together
in confused masses of superb brilliance, as they reflected the rays of
the sun. The Victoria had attained an altitude of four thousand feet,
and the thermometer indicated a certain diminution of temperature. The
land below could no longer be seen. Fifty miles away to the westward,
Mount Rubeho raised its sparkling crest, marking the limit of the Ugogo
country in east longitude thirty-six degrees twenty minutes. The wind
was blowing at the rate of twenty miles an hour, but the aeronauts felt
nothing of this increased speed. They observed no jar, and had scarcely
any sense of motion at all.
Three hours later, the doctor’s prediction was fully verified. Kennedy
no longer felt a single shiver of the fever, but partook of some
breakfast with an excellent appetite.
“That beats sulphate of quinine!” said the energetic Scot, with hearty
emphasis and much satisfaction.
“Positively,” said Joe, “this is where I’ll have to retire to when I get
old!”
About ten o’clock in the morning the atmosphere cleared up, the clouds
parted, and the country beneath could again be seen, the Victoria
meanwhile rapidly descending. Dr. Ferguson was in search of a current
that would carry him more to the northeast, and he found it about six
hundred feet from the ground. The country was becoming more broken, and
even mountainous. The Zungomoro district was fading out of sight in the
east with the last cocoa-nut-trees of that latitude.
Ere long, the crests of a mountain-range assumed a more decided
prominence. A few peaks rose here and there, and it became necessary
to keep a sharp lookout for the pointed cones that seemed to spring up
every moment.
“We’re right among the breakers!” said Kennedy.
“Keep cool, Dick. We shan’t touch them,” was the doctor’s quiet answer.
“It’s a jolly way to travel, anyhow!” said Joe, with his usual flow of
spirits.
In fact, the doctor managed his balloon with wondrous dexterity.
“Now, if we had been compelled to go afoot over that drenched soil,”
said he, “we should still be dragging along in a pestilential mire.
Since our departure from Zanzibar, half our beasts of burden would
have died with fatigue. We should be looking like ghosts ourselves,
and despair would be seizing on our hearts. We should be in continual
squabbles with our guides and porters, and completely exposed to
their unbridled brutality. During the daytime, a damp, penetrating,
unendurable humidity! At night, a cold frequently intolerable, and
the stings of a kind of fly whose bite pierces the thickest cloth, and
drives the victim crazy! All this, too, without saying any thing about
wild beasts and ferocious native tribes!”
“I move that we don’t try it!” said Joe, in his droll way.
“I exaggerate nothing,” continued Ferguson, “for, upon reading the
narratives of such travellers as have had the hardihood to venture into
these regions, your eyes would fill with tears.”
About eleven o’clock they were passing over the basin of Imenge, and the
tribes scattered over the adjacent hills were impotently menacing the
Victoria with their weapons. Finally, she sped along as far as the last
undulations of the country which precede Rubeho. These form the last and
loftiest chain of the mountains of Usagara.
The aeronauts took careful and complete note of the orographic
conformation of the country. The three ramifications mentioned, of which
the Duthumi forms the first link, are separated by immense longitudinal
plains. These elevated summits consist of rounded cones, between which
the soil is bestrewn with erratic blocks of stone and gravelly bowlders.
The most abrupt declivity of these mountains confronts the Zanzibar
coast, but the western slopes are merely inclined planes. The
depressions in the soil are covered with a black, rich loam, on which
there is a vigorous vegetation. Various water-courses filter through,
toward the east, and work their way onward to flow into the Kingani,
in the midst of gigantic clumps of sycamore, tamarind, calabash, and
palmyra trees.
“Attention!” said Dr. Ferguson. “We are approaching Rubeho, the name
of which signifies, in the language of the country, the ‘Passage of the
Winds,’ and we would do well to double its jagged pinnacles at a certain
height. If my chart be exact, we are going to ascend to an elevation of
five thousand feet.”
“Shall we often have occasion to reach those far upper belts of the
atmosphere?”
“Very seldom: the height of the African mountains appears to be quite
moderate compared with that of the European and Asiatic ranges; but,
in any case, our good Victoria will find no difficulty in passing over
them.”
In a very little while, the gas expanded under the action of the heat,
and the balloon took a very decided ascensional movement. Besides, the
dilation of the hydrogen involved no danger, and only three-fourths of
the vast capacity of the balloon was filled when the barometer, by a
depression of eight inches, announced an elevation of six thousand feet.
“Shall we go this high very long?” asked Joe.
“The atmosphere of the earth has a height of six thousand fathoms,” said
the doctor; “and, with a very large balloon, one might go far. That is
what Messrs. Brioschi and Gay-Lussac did; but then the blood burst from
their mouths and ears. Respirable air was wanting. Some years ago, two
fearless Frenchmen, Messrs. Barral and Bixio, also ventured into the
very lofty regions; but their balloon burst--”
“And they fell?” asked Kennedy, abruptly.
“Certainly they did; but as learned men should always fall--namely,
without hurting themselves.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said Joe, “you may try their fall over again, if you
like; but, as for me, who am but a dolt, I prefer keeping at the medium
height--neither too far up, nor too low down. It won’t do to be too
ambitious.”
At the height of six thousand feet, the density of the atmosphere has
already greatly diminished; sound is conveyed with difficulty, and the
voice is not so easily heard. The view of objects becomes confused; the
gaze no longer takes in any but large, quite ill-distinguishable masses;
men and animals on the surface become absolutely invisible; the roads
and rivers get to look like threads, and the lakes dwindle to ponds.
The doctor and his friends felt themselves in a very anomalous
condition; an atmospheric current of extreme velocity was bearing them
away beyond arid mountains, upon whose summits vast fields of snow
surprised the gaze; while their convulsed appearance told of Titanic
travail in the earliest epoch of the world’s existence.
The sun shone at the zenith, and his rays fell perpendicularly upon
those lonely summits. The doctor took an accurate design of these
mountains, which form four distinct ridges almost in a straight line,
the northernmost being the longest.
The Victoria soon descended the slope opposite to the Rubeho, skirting
an acclivity covered with woods, and dotted with trees of very
deep-green foliage. Then came crests and ravines, in a sort of desert
which preceded the Ugogo country; and lower down were yellow plains,
parched and fissured by the intense heat, and, here and there, bestrewn
with saline plants and brambly thickets.
Some underbrush, which, farther on, became forests, embellished the
horizon. The doctor went nearer to the ground; the anchors were thrown
out, and one of them soon caught in the boughs of a huge sycamore.
Joe, slipping nimbly down the tree, carefully attached the anchor, and
the doctor left his cylinder at work to a certain degree in order to
retain sufficient ascensional force in the balloon to keep it in the
air. Meanwhile the wind had suddenly died away.
“Now,” said Ferguson, “take two guns, friend Dick--one for yourself
and one for Joe--and both of you try to bring back some nice cuts of
antelope-meat; they will make us a good dinner.”
“Off to the hunt!” exclaimed Kennedy, joyously.
He climbed briskly out of the car and descended. Joe had swung himself
down from branch to branch, and was waiting for him below, stretching
his limbs in the mean time.
“Don’t fly away without us, doctor!” shouted Joe.
“Never fear, my boy!--I am securely lashed. I’ll spend the time getting
my notes into shape. A good hunt to you! but be careful. Besides, from
my post here, I can observe the face of the country, and, at the least
suspicious thing I notice, I’ll fire a signal-shot, and with that you
must rally home.”
“Agreed!” said Kennedy; and off they went.
CHAPTER FOURTEENTH.
The Forest of Gum-Trees.--The Blue Antelope.--The Rallying-Signal.--An
Unexpected Attack.--The Kanyeme.--A Night in the Open Air.--The
Mabunguru.--Jihoue-la-Mkoa.--A Supply of Water.--Arrival at Kazeh.
The country, dry and parched as it was, consisting of a clayey soil that
cracked open with the heat, seemed, indeed, a desert: here and there
were a few traces of caravans; the bones of men and animals, that had
been half-gnawed away, mouldering together in the same dust.
After half an hour’s walking, Dick and Joe plunged into a forest of
gum-trees, their eyes alert on all sides, and their fingers on the
trigger. There was no foreseeing what they might encounter. Without
being a rifleman, Joe could handle fire-arms with no trifling dexterity.
“A walk does one good, Mr. Kennedy, but this isn’t the easiest ground in
the world,” he said, kicking aside some fragments of quartz with which
the soil was bestrewn.
Kennedy motioned to his companion to be silent and to halt. The present
case compelled them to dispense with hunting-dogs, and, no matter what
Joe’s agility might be, he could not be expected to have the scent of a
setter or a greyhound.
A herd of a dozen antelopes were quenching their thirst in the bed of
a torrent where some pools of water had lodged. The graceful creatures,
snuffing danger in the breeze, seemed to be disturbed and uneasy. Their
beautiful heads could be seen between every draught, raised in the air
with quick and sudden motion as they sniffed the wind in the direction
of our two hunters, with their flexible nostrils.
Kennedy stole around behind some clumps of shrubbery, while Joe remained
motionless where he was. The former, at length, got within gunshot and
fired.
The herd disappeared in the twinkling of an eye; one male antelope
only, that was hit just behind the shoulder-joint, fell headlong to the
ground, and Kennedy leaped toward his booty.
It was a blauwbok, a superb animal of a pale-bluish color shading upon
the gray, but with the belly and the inside of the legs as white as the
driven snow.
“A splendid shot!” exclaimed the hunter. “It’s a very rare species of
the antelope, and I hope to be able to prepare his skin in such a way as
to keep it.”
“Indeed!” said Joe, “do you think of doing that, Mr. Kennedy?”
“Why, certainly I do! Just see what a fine hide it is!”
“But Dr. Ferguson will never allow us to take such an extra weight!”
“You’re right, Joe. Still it is a pity to have to leave such a noble
animal.”
“The whole of it? Oh, we won’t do that, sir; we’ll take all the good
eatable parts of it, and, if you’ll let me, I’ll cut him up just as well
as the chairman of the honorable corporation of butchers of the city of
London could do.”
“As you please, my boy! But you know that in my hunter’s way I can just
as easily skin and cut up a piece of game as kill it.”
“I’m sure of that, Mr. Kennedy. Well, then, you can build a fireplace
with a few stones; there’s plenty of dry dead-wood, and I can make the
hot coals tell in a few minutes.”
“Oh! that won’t take long,” said Kennedy, going to work on the
fireplace, where he had a brisk flame crackling and sparkling in a
minute or two.
Joe had cut some of the nicest steaks and the best parts of the
tenderloin from the carcass of the antelope, and these were quickly
transformed to the most savory of broils.
“There, those will tickle the doctor!” said Kennedy.
“Do you know what I was thinking about?” said Joe.
“Why, about the steaks you’re broiling, to be sure!” replied Dick.
“Not the least in the world. I was thinking what a figure we’d cut if we
couldn’t find the balloon again.”
“By George, what an idea! Why, do you think the doctor would desert us?”
“No; but suppose his anchor were to slip!”
“Impossible! and, besides, the doctor would find no difficulty in coming
down again with his balloon; he handles it at his ease.”
“But suppose the wind were to sweep it off, so that he couldn’t come
back toward us?”
“Come, come, Joe! a truce to your suppositions; they’re any thing but
pleasant.”
“Ah! sir, every thing that happens in this world is natural, of course;
but, then, any thing may happen, and we ought to look out beforehand.”
At this moment the report of a gun rang out upon the air.
“What’s that?” exclaimed Joe.
“It’s my rifle, I know the ring of her!” said Kennedy.
“A signal!”
“Yes; danger for us!”
“For him, too, perhaps.”
“Let’s be off!”
And the hunters, having gathered up the product of their expedition,
rapidly made their way back along the path that they had marked by
breaking boughs and bushes when they came. The density of the underbrush
prevented their seeing the balloon, although they could not be far from
it.
A second shot was heard.
“We must hurry!” said Joe.
“There! a third report!”
“Why, it sounds to me as if he was defending himself against something.”
“Let us make haste!”
They now began to run at the top of their speed. When they reached the
outskirts of the forest, they, at first glance, saw the balloon in its
place and the doctor in the car.
“What’s the matter?” shouted Kennedy.
“Good God!” suddenly exclaimed Joe.
“What do you see?”
“Down there! look! a crowd of blacks surrounding the balloon!”
And, in fact, there, two miles from where they were, they saw some
thirty wild natives close together, yelling, gesticulating, and cutting
all kinds of antics at the foot of the sycamore. Some, climbing into the
tree itself, were making their way to the topmost branches. The danger
seemed pressing.
“My master is lost!” cried Joe.
“Come! a little more coolness, Joe, and let us see how we stand. We hold
the lives of four of those villains in our hands. Forward, then!”
They had made a mile with headlong speed, when another report was heard
from the car. The shot had, evidently, told upon a huge black demon, who
had been hoisting himself up by the anchor-rope. A lifeless body fell
from bough to bough, and hung about twenty feet from the ground, its
arms and legs swaying to and fro in the air.
“Ha!” said Joe, halting, “what does that fellow hold by?”
“No matter what!” said Kennedy; “let us run! let us run!”
“Ah! Mr. Kennedy,” said Joe, again, in a roar of laughter, “by his tail!
by his tail! it’s an ape! They’re all apes!”
“Well, they’re worse than men!” said Kennedy, as he dashed into the
midst of the howling crowd.
It was, indeed, a troop of very formidable baboons of the dog-faced
species. These creatures are brutal, ferocious, and horrible to look
upon, with their dog-like muzzles and savage expression. However, a few
shots scattered them, and the chattering horde scampered off, leaving
several of their number on the ground.
In a moment Kennedy was on the ladder, and Joe, clambering up the
branches, detached the anchor; the car then dipped to where he was, and
he got into it without difficulty. A few minutes later, the Victoria
slowly ascended and soared away to the eastward, wafted by a moderate
wind.
“That was an attack for you!” said Joe.
“We thought you were surrounded by natives.”
“Well, fortunately, they were only apes,” said the doctor.
“At a distance there’s no great difference,” remarked Kennedy.
“Nor close at hand, either,” added Joe.
“Well, however that may be,” resumed Ferguson, “this attack of apes
might have had the most serious consequences. Had the anchor yielded to
their repeated efforts, who knows whither the wind would have carried
me?”
“What did I tell you, Mr. Kennedy?”
“You were right, Joe; but, even right as you may have been, you were,
at that moment, preparing some antelope-steaks, the very sight of which
gave me a monstrous appetite.”
“I believe you!” said the doctor; “the flesh of the antelope is
exquisite.”
“You may judge of that yourself, now, sir, for supper’s ready.”
“Upon my word as a sportsman, those venison-steaks have a gamy flavor
that’s not to be sneezed at, I tell you.”
“Good!” said Joe, with his mouth full, “I could live on antelope all
the days of my life; and all the better with a glass of grog to wash it
down.”
So saying, the good fellow went to work to prepare a jorum of that
fragrant beverage, and all hands tasted it with satisfaction.
“Every thing has gone well thus far,” said he.
“Very well indeed!” assented Kennedy.
“Come, now, Mr. Kennedy, are you sorry that you came with us?”
“I’d like to see anybody prevent my coming!”
It was now four o’clock in the afternoon. The Victoria had struck a more
rapid current. The face of the country was gradually rising, and, ere
long, the barometer indicated a height of fifteen hundred feet above the
level of the sea. The doctor was, therefore, obliged to keep his balloon
up by a quite considerable dilation of gas, and the cylinder was hard at
work all the time.
Toward seven o’clock, the balloon was sailing over the basin of Kanyeme.
The doctor immediately recognized that immense clearing, ten miles in
extent, with its villages buried in the midst of baobab and calabash
trees. It is the residence of one of the sultans of the Ugogo country,
where civilization is, perhaps, the least backward. The natives there
are less addicted to selling members of their own families, but still,
men and animals all live together in round huts, without frames, that
look like haystacks.
Beyond Kanyeme the soil becomes arid and stony, but in an hour’s
journey, in a fertile dip of the soil, vegetation had resumed all its
vigor at some distance from Mdaburu. The wind fell with the close of the
day, and the atmosphere seemed to sleep. The doctor vainly sought for a
current of air at different heights, and, at last, seeing this calm
of all nature, he resolved to pass the night afloat, and, for greater
safety, rose to the height of one thousand feet, where the balloon
remained motionless. The night was magnificent, the heavens glittering
with stars, and profoundly silent in the upper air.
Dick and Joe stretched themselves on their peaceful couch, and were soon
sound asleep, the doctor keeping the first watch. At twelve o’clock the
latter was relieved by Kennedy.
“Should the slightest accident happen, waken me,” said Ferguson, “and,
above all things, don’t lose sight of the barometer. To us it is the
compass!”
The night was cold. There were twenty-seven degrees of difference
between its temperature and that of the daytime. With nightfall had
begun the nocturnal concert of animals driven from their hiding-places
by hunger and thirst. The frogs struck in their guttural soprano,
redoubled by the yelping of the jackals, while the imposing bass of the
African lion sustained the accords of this living orchestra.
Upon resuming his post, in the morning, the doctor consulted his
compass, and found that the wind had changed during the night. The
balloon had been bearing about thirty miles to the northwest during the
last two hours. It was then passing over Mabunguru, a stony country,
strewn with blocks of syenite of a fine polish, and knobbed with huge
bowlders and angular ridges of rock; conic masses, like the rocks of
Karnak, studded the soil like so many Druidic dolmens; the bones of
buffaloes and elephants whitened it here and there; but few trees could
be seen, excepting in the east, where there were dense woods, among
which a few villages lay half concealed.
Toward seven o’clock they saw a huge round rock nearly two miles in
extent, like an immense tortoise.
“We are on the right track,” said Dr. Ferguson. “There’s Jihoue-la-Mkoa,
where we must halt for a few minutes. I am going to renew the supply of
water necessary for my cylinder, and so let us try to anchor somewhere.”
“There are very few trees,” replied the hunter.
“Never mind, let us try. Joe, throw out the anchors!”
The balloon, gradually losing its ascensional force, approached the
ground; the anchors ran along until, at last, one of them caught in the
fissure of a rock, and the balloon remained motionless.
It must not be supposed that the doctor could entirely extinguish his
cylinder, during these halts. The equilibrium of the balloon had been
calculated at the level of the sea; and, as the country was continually
ascending, and had reached an elevation of from six to seven hundred
feet, the balloon would have had a tendency to go lower than the surface
of the soil itself. It was, therefore, necessary to sustain it by a
certain dilation of the gas. But, in case the doctor, in the absence
of all wind, had let the car rest upon the ground, the balloon, thus
relieved of a considerable weight, would have kept up of itself, without
the aid of the cylinder.
The maps indicated extensive ponds on the western slope of the
Jihoue-la-Mkoa. Joe went thither alone with a cask that would hold about
ten gallons. He found the place pointed out to him, without difficulty,
near to a deserted village; got his stock of water, and returned in less
than three-quarters of an hour. He had seen nothing particular excepting
some immense elephant-pits. In fact, he came very near falling into one
of them, at the bottom of which lay a half-eaten carcass.
He brought back with him a sort of clover which the apes eat with
avidity. The doctor recognized the fruit of the “mbenbu”--tree which
grows in profusion, on the western part of Jihoue-la-Mkoa. Ferguson
waited for Joe with a certain feeling of impatience, for even a short
halt in this inhospitable region always inspires a degree of fear.
The water was got aboard without trouble, as the car was nearly resting
on the ground. Joe then found it easy to loosen the anchor and leaped
lightly to his place beside the doctor. The latter then replenished the
flame in the cylinder, and the balloon majestically soared into the air.
It was then about one hundred miles from Kazeh, an important
establishment in the interior of Africa, where, thanks to a
south-southeasterly current, the travellers might hope to arrive on that
same day. They were moving at the rate of fourteen miles per hour, and
the guidance of the balloon was becoming difficult, as they dared not
rise very high without extreme dilation of the gas, the country itself
being at an average height of three thousand feet. Hence, the doctor
preferred not to force the dilation, and so adroitly followed the
sinuosities of a pretty sharply-inclined plane, and swept very close
to the villages of Thembo and Tura-Wels. The latter forms part of
the Unyamwezy, a magnificent country, where the trees attain enormous
dimensions; among them the cactus, which grows to gigantic size.
About two o’clock, in magnificent weather, but under a fiery sun that
devoured the least breath of air, the balloon was floating over the town
of Kazeh, situated about three hundred and fifty miles from the coast.
“We left Zanzibar at nine o’clock in the morning,” said the doctor,
consulting his notes, “and, after two days’ passage, we have, including
our deviations, travelled nearly five hundred geographical miles.
Captains Burton and Speke took four months and a half to make the same
distance!”
CHAPTER FIFTEENTH.
Kazeh.--The Noisy Market-place.--The Appearance of the Balloon.--The
Wangaga.--The Sons of the Moon.--The Doctor’s Walk.--The Population
of the Place.--The Royal Tembe.--The Sultan’s Wives.--A Royal
Drunken-Bout.--Joe an Object of Worship.--How they Dance in the Moon.--A
Reaction.--Two Moons in one Sky.--The Instability of Divine Honors.
Kazeh, an important point in Central Africa, is not a city; in truth,
there are no cities in the interior. Kazeh is but a collection of six
extensive excavations. There are enclosed a few houses and slave-huts,
with little courtyards and small gardens, carefully cultivated with
onions, potatoes, cucumbers, pumpkins, and mushrooms, of perfect flavor,
growing most luxuriantly.
The Unyamwezy is the country of the Moon--above all the rest, the
fertile and magnificent garden-spot of Africa. In its centre is the
district of Unyanembe--a delicious region, where some families of Omani,
who are of very pure Arabic origin, live in luxurious idleness.
They have, for a long period, held the commerce between the interior of
Africa and Arabia: they trade in gums, ivory, fine muslin, and slaves.
Their caravans traverse these equatorial regions on all sides; and they
even make their way to the coast in search of those articles of luxury
and enjoyment which the wealthy merchants covet; while the latter,
surrounded by their wives and their attendants, lead in this charming
country the least disturbed and most horizontal of lives--always
stretched at full length, laughing, smoking, or sleeping.
Around these excavations are numerous native dwellings; wide, open
spaces for the markets; fields of cannabis and datura; superb trees and
depths of freshest shade--such is Kazeh!
There, too, is held the general rendezvous of the caravans--those of the
south, with their slaves and their freightage of ivory; and those of the
west, which export cotton, glassware, and trinkets, to the tribes of the
great lakes.
So in the market-place there reigns perpetual excitement, a nameless
hubbub, made up of the cries of mixed-breed porters and carriers, the
beating of drums, and the twanging of horns, the neighing of mules, the
braying of donkeys, the singing of women, the squalling of children, and
the banging of the huge rattan, wielded by the jemadar or leader of the
caravans, who beats time to this pastoral symphony.
There, spread forth, without regard to order--indeed, we may say, in
charming disorder--are the showy stuffs, the glass beads, the ivory
tusks, the rhinoceros’-teeth, the shark’s-teeth, the honey, the tobacco,
and the cotton of these regions, to be purchased at the strangest of
bargains by customers in whose eyes each article has a price only in
proportion to the desire it excites to possess it.
All at once this agitation, movement and noise stopped as though by
magic. The balloon had just come in sight, far aloft in the sky, where
it hovered majestically for a few moments, and then descended slowly,
without deviating from its perpendicular. Men, women, children,
merchants and slaves, Arabs and negroes, as suddenly disappeared within
the “tembes” and the huts.
“My dear doctor,” said Kennedy, “if we continue to produce such a
sensation as this, we shall find some difficulty in establishing
commercial relations with the people hereabouts.”
“There’s one kind of trade that we might carry on, though, easily
enough,” said Joe; “and that would be to go down there quietly, and walk
off with the best of the goods, without troubling our heads about the
merchants; we’d get rich that way!”
“Ah!” said the doctor, “these natives are a little scared at first; but
they won’t be long in coming back, either through suspicion or through
curiosity.”
“Do you really think so, doctor?”
“Well, we’ll see pretty soon. But it wouldn’t be prudent to go too near
to them, for the balloon is not iron-clad, and is, therefore, not proof
against either an arrow or a bullet.”
“Then you expect to hold a parley with these blacks?”
“If we can do so safely, why should we not? There must be some Arab
merchants here at Kazeh, who are better informed than the rest, and not
so barbarous. I remember that Burton and Speke had nothing but praises
to utter concerning the hospitality of these people; so we might, at
least, make the venture.”
The balloon having, meanwhile, gradually approached the ground, one of
the anchors lodged in the top of a tree near the market-place.
By this time the whole population had emerged from their hiding-places
stealthily, thrusting their heads out first. Several “waganga,”
recognizable by their badges of conical shellwork, came boldly forward.
They were the sorcerers of the place. They bore in their girdles small
gourds, coated with tallow, and several other articles of witchcraft,
all of them, by-the-way, most professionally filthy.
Little by little the crowd gathered beside them, the women and children
grouped around them, the drums renewed their deafening uproar, hands
were violently clapped together, and then raised toward the sky.
“That’s their style of praying,” said the doctor; “and, if I’m not
mistaken, we’re going to be called upon to play a great part.”
“Well, sir, play it!”
“You, too, my good Joe--perhaps you’re to be a god!”
“Well, master, that won’t trouble me much. I like a little flattery!”
At this moment, one of the sorcerers, a “myanga,” made a sign, and all
the clamor died away into the profoundest silence. He then addressed a
few words to the strangers, but in an unknown tongue.
Dr. Ferguson, not having understood them, shouted some sentences in
Arabic, at a venture, and was immediately answered in that language.
The speaker below then delivered himself of a very copious harangue,
which was also very flowery and very gravely listened to by his
audience. From it the doctor was not slow in learning that the balloon
was mistaken for nothing less than the moon in person, and that the
amiable goddess in question had condescended to approach the town with
her three sons--an honor that would never be forgotten in this land so
greatly loved by the god of day.
The doctor responded, with much dignity, that the moon made her
provincial tour every thousand years, feeling the necessity of showing
herself nearer at hand to her worshippers. He, therefore, begged them
not to be disturbed by her presence, but to take advantage of it to make
known all their wants and longings.
The sorcerer, in his turn, replied that the sultan, the “mwani,” who had
been sick for many years, implored the aid of heaven, and he invited the
son of the moon to visit him.
The doctor acquainted his companions with the invitation.
“And you are going to call upon this negro king?” asked Kennedy.
“Undoubtedly so; these people appear well disposed; the air is calm;
there is not a breath of wind, and we have nothing to fear for the
balloon?”
“But, what will you do?”
“Be quiet on that score, my dear Dick. With a little medicine, I shall
work my way through the affair!”
Then, addressing the crowd, he said:
“The moon, taking compassion on the sovereign who is so dear to the
children of Unyamwezy, has charged us to restore him to health. Let him
prepare to receive us!”
The clamor, the songs and demonstrations of all kinds increased twofold,
and the whole immense ants’ nest of black heads was again in motion.
“Now, my friends,” said Dr. Ferguson, “we must look out for every thing
beforehand; we may be forced to leave this at any moment, unexpectedly,
and be off with extra speed. Dick had better remain, therefore, in the
car, and keep the cylinder warm so as to secure a sufficient ascensional
force for the balloon. The anchor is solidly fastened, and there is
nothing to fear in that respect. I shall descend, and Joe will go with
me, only that he must remain at the foot of the ladder.”
“What! are you going alone into that blackamoor’s den?”
“How! doctor, am I not to go with you?”
“No! I shall go alone; these good folks imagine that the goddess of the
moon has come to see them, and their superstition protects me; so have
no fear, and each one remain at the post that I have assigned to him.”
“Well, since you wish it,” sighed Kennedy.
“Look closely to the dilation of the gas.”
“Agreed!”
By this time the shouts of the natives had swelled to double volume as
they vehemently implored the aid of the heavenly powers.
“There, there,” said Joe, “they’re rather rough in their orders to their
good moon and her divine sons.”
The doctor, equipped with his travelling medicine-chest, descended to
the ground, preceded by Joe, who kept a straight countenance and looked
as grave and knowing as the circumstances of the case required. He then
seated himself at the foot of the ladder in the Arab fashion, with his
legs crossed under him, and a portion of the crowd collected around him
in a circle, at respectful distances.
In the meanwhile the doctor, escorted to the sound of savage
instruments, and with wild religious dances, slowly proceeded toward the
royal “tembe,” situated a considerable distance outside of the town. It
was about three o’clock, and the sun was shining brilliantly. In fact,
what less could it do upon so grand an occasion!
The doctor stepped along with great dignity, the waganga surrounding him
and keeping off the crowd. He was soon joined by the natural son of the
sultan, a handsomely-built young fellow, who, according to the custom of
the country, was the sole heir of the paternal goods, to the exclusion
of the old man’s legitimate children. He prostrated himself before the
son of the moon, but the latter graciously raised him to his feet.
Three-quarters of an hour later, through shady paths, surrounded by
all the luxuriance of tropical vegetation, this enthusiastic procession
arrived at the sultan’s palace, a sort of square edifice called
ititenya, and situated on the slope of a hill.
A kind of veranda, formed by the thatched roof, adorned the outside,
supported upon wooden pillars, which had some pretensions to being
carved. Long lines of dark-red clay decorated the walls in characters
that strove to reproduce the forms of men and serpents, the latter
better imitated, of course, than the former. The roofing of this abode
did not rest directly upon the walls, and the air could, therefore,
circulate freely, but windows there were none, and the door hardly
deserved the name.
Dr. Ferguson was received with all the honors by the guards and
favorites of the sultan; these were men of a fine race, the Wanyamwezi
so-called, a pure type of the central African populations, strong,
robust, well-made, and in splendid condition. Their hair, divided into
a great number of small tresses, fell over their shoulders, and by means
of black-and-blue incisions they had tattooed their cheeks from the
temples to the mouth. Their ears, frightfully distended, held dangling
to them disks of wood and plates of gum copal. They were clad in
brilliantly-painted cloths, and the soldiers were armed with the
saw-toothed war-club, the bow and arrows barbed and poisoned with the
juice of the euphorbium, the cutlass, the “sima,” a long sabre (also
with saw-like teeth), and some small battle-axes.
The doctor advanced into the palace, and there, notwithstanding the
sultan’s illness, the din, which was terrific before, redoubled the
instant that he arrived. He noticed, at the lintels of the door,
some rabbits’ tails and zebras’ manes, suspended as talismans. He was
received by the whole troop of his majesty’s wives, to the harmonious
accords of the “upatu,” a sort of cymbal made of the bottom of a copper
kettle, and to the uproar of the “kilindo,” a drum five feet high,
hollowed out from the trunk of a tree, and hammered by the ponderous,
horny fists of two jet-black virtuosi.
Most of the women were rather good-looking, and they laughed and
chattered merrily as they smoked their tobacco and “thang” in huge black
pipes. They seemed to be well made, too, under the long robes that they
wore gracefully flung about their persons, and carried a sort of “kilt”
woven from the fibres of calabash fastened around their girdles.
Six of them were not the least merry of the party, although put aside
from the rest, and reserved for a cruel fate. On the death of the
sultan, they were to be buried alive with him, so as to occupy and
divert his mind during the period of eternal solitude.
Dr. Ferguson, taking in the whole scene at a rapid glance, approached
the wooden couch on which the sultan lay reclining. There he saw a man
of about forty, completely brutalized by orgies of every description,
and in a condition that left little or nothing to be done. The
sickness that had afflicted him for so many years was simply perpetual
drunkenness. The royal sot had nearly lost all consciousness, and all
the ammonia in the world would not have set him on his feet again.
His favorites and the women kept on bended knees during this solemn
visit. By means of a few drops of powerful cordial, the doctor for a
moment reanimated the imbruted carcass that lay before him. The sultan
stirred, and, for a dead body that had given no sign whatever of
life for several hours previously, this symptom was received with a
tremendous repetition of shouts and cries in the doctor’s honor.
The latter, who had seen enough of it by this time, by a rapid motion
put aside his too demonstrative admirers and went out of the palace,
directing his steps immediately toward the balloon, for it was now six
o’clock in the evening.
Joe, during his absence, had been quietly waiting at the foot of the
ladder, where the crowd paid him their most humble respects. Like a
genuine son of the moon, he let them keep on. For a divinity, he had
the air of a very clever sort of fellow, by no means proud, nay, even
pleasingly familiar with the young negresses, who seemed never to tire
of looking at him. Besides, he went so far as to chat agreeably with
them.
“Worship me, ladies! worship me!” he said to them. “I’m a clever sort of
devil, if I am the son of a goddess.”
They brought him propitiatory gifts, such as are usually deposited in
the fetich huts or mzimu. These gifts consisted of stalks of barley and
of “pombe.” Joe considered himself in duty bound to taste the latter
species of strong beer, but his palate, although accustomed to gin and
whiskey, could not withstand the strength of the new beverage, and he
had to make a horrible grimace, which his dusky friends took to be a
benevolent smile.
Thereupon, the young damsels, conjoining their voices in a drawling
chant, began to dance around him with the utmost gravity.
“Ah! you’re dancing, are you?” said he. “Well, I won’t be behind you in
politeness, and so I’ll give you one of my country reels.”
So at it he went, in one of the wildest jigs that ever was seen,
twisting, turning, and jerking himself in all directions; dancing with
his hands, dancing with his body, dancing with his knees, dancing
with his feet; describing the most fearful contortions and extravagant
evolutions; throwing himself into incredible attitudes; grimacing beyond
all belief, and, in fine giving his savage admirers a strange idea of
the style of ballet adopted by the deities in the moon.
Then, the whole collection of blacks, naturally as imitative as monkeys,
at once reproduced all his airs and graces, his leaps and shakes and
contortions; they did not lose a single gesticulation; they did not
forget an attitude; and the result was, such a pandemonium of movement,
noise, and excitement, as it would be out of the question even feebly
to describe. But, in the very midst of the fun, Joe saw the doctor
approaching.
The latter was coming at full speed, surrounded by a yelling and
disorderly throng. The chiefs and sorcerers seemed to be highly excited.
They were close upon the doctor’s heels, crowding and threatening him.
Singular reaction! What had happened? Had the sultan unluckily perished
in the hands of his celestial physician?
Kennedy, from his post of observation, saw the danger without knowing
what had caused it, and the balloon, powerfully urged by the dilation
of the gas, strained and tugged at the ropes that held it as though
impatient to soar away.
The doctor had got as far as the foot of the ladder. A superstitious
fear still held the crowd aloof and hindered them from committing any
violence on his person. He rapidly scaled the ladder, and Joe followed
him with his usual agility.
“Not a moment to lose!” said the doctor. “Don’t attempt to let go the
anchor! We’ll cut the cord! Follow me!”
“But what’s the matter?” asked Joe, clambering into the car.
“What’s happened?” questioned Kennedy, rifle in hand.
“Look!” replied the doctor, pointing to the horizon.
“Well?” ejaculated the Scot.
“Well! the moon!”
And, in fact, there was the moon rising red and magnificent, a globe of
fire in a field of blue! It was she, indeed--she and the balloon!--both
in one sky!
Either there were two moons, then, or these strangers were imposters,
designing scamps, false deities!
Such were the very natural reflections of the crowd, and hence the
reaction in their feelings.
Joe could not, for the life of him, keep in a roar of laughter; and the
population of Kazeh, comprehending that their prey was slipping through
their clutches, set up prolonged howlings, aiming, the while, their bows
and muskets at the balloon.
But one of the sorcerers made a sign, and all the weapons were lowered.
He then began to climb into the tree, intending to seize the rope and
bring the machine to the ground.
Joe leaned out with a hatchet ready. “Shall I cut away?” said he.
“No; wait a moment,” replied the doctor.
“But this black?”
“We may, perhaps, save our anchor--and I hold a great deal by that.
There’ll always be time enough to cut loose.”
The sorcerer, having climbed to the right place, worked so vigorously
that he succeeded in detaching the anchor, and the latter, violently
jerked, at that moment, by the start of the balloon, caught the rascal
between the limbs, and carried him off astride of it through the air.
The stupefaction of the crowd was indescribable as they saw one of their
waganga thus whirled away into space.
“Huzza!” roared Joe, as the balloon--thanks to its ascensional
force--shot up higher into the sky, with increased rapidity.
“He holds on well,” said Kennedy; “a little trip will do him good.”
“Shall we let this darky drop all at once?” inquired Joe.
“Oh no,” replied the doctor, “we’ll let him down easily; and I warrant
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