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ACROSS EAST AFEICAN GLAOIEES.

ACROSS EAST AFRICAN GLACIERS.

AN ACCOUNT OF
THE FIRST ASCENT OF KILIMANJARO.

Dr. HANS MEYER.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

E. H. S. CALDER.

Mitb fovt^ illustrations anb Zbvcc /iDaps.

THE FRONTISPIECE AND EIGHT PHOTOGRAPHS PRINTED IN GERMANY.

LONDON:
GEORGE PHILIP & SON, 32 FLEET STREET:

LIVERPOOL: 45 to 51 SOUTH CASTLE STREET.
1891.

PEEFACE.

IN the matter of geographical exploration, which may be
said to constitute the groundwork of the successful de-
velopment of all countries, German East Africa has not
hitherto shared the advantages enjoyed by our colonies on
the western side of the continent. There, and more espe-
cially in our Protectorate of the Cameroon s, the work of
geographical research has been systematically carried out
under Government supervision and at Government expense,
whereas the exploration and exploitation of East Africa have
been left entirely to the more limited resources of commercial
companies.

In all the expeditions which have penetrated the region
since the first delimitation of the various spheres of interest,
the interests of Geography and of Science in general have
been of secondary importance to the making of treaties and
the^ establishment of stations. It seemed to me, therefore,
that, since Government showed no signs of moving in the
matter, the work of geographical research in East Africa must
be taken up by private individuals, I resolved to devote
myself and my means to it forthwith ; and in the course of
three expeditions I have done my best to make known the
districts geographically the most interesting and colonially the
most valuable. First in importance in both these respects is
Kilimanjaro, a mighty mountain mass, which attains an alti-
tude of nearly 20,000 feet, and upon which every imaginable

vi PREFACE.

shade "of climate is represented. After it comes the mountain
ranges of Usambara, Pare, and Ugweno, wliich run inland
from the coast to Kilimanjaro, rising like island oases from
the surrounding barrenness of the steppes.

Kilimanjaro was discovered by a German — the missionary,
Eebmann ; it was first explored by a German — Baron von der
Decken ; and it seemed to me to be almost a national duty
that a German should be the first to tread the summit of this
mountain, probably the loftiest in Africa, and certainly the
highest in the German Empire. Notwithstanding the efforts
of the numerous travellers who had visited the region, many
problems still lay awaiting solution. The geological struc-
ture of the mountain, the causes of the prevailing climatic
conditions, the nature of the snow and ice in equatorial Africa,
were all matters of universal interest which yet remained to
be determined.

Tempted by these many attractions, I quitted Europe for
Africa in the autumn of 1886, proceeding first to South Africa
with a view to obtaining some experience of African life and
methods of working. Although this was my first visit to the
Dark Continent, I was already a past master in the art of
travel. I had climbed the Alps and the Himalayas, and in
Ceylon and Southern India had become familiar with all the
details of tropical agriculture ; I had gazed into the craters
of the volcanoes of Java, and penetrated the recesses of the
forests of the Philippines ; I had sailed up the rivers of China
and Japan, and had traversed Mexico and California in all
directions, and thus little by little I had become accustomed
to travel in all climates and under all conditions. In South
Africa I passed through Cape Colony, and spent some time
at the diamond fields of Kimberley and the goldfields of the
Transvaal, afterwards making a sojourn in the Drakenberg
mountains, whence I gradually made my way northwards

PREFACE. vil

along the coast, and reached the ishmd of Zanzibar in
April 1887.

From Zanzibar I set out on my first East African expedi-
tion. It was the rainy season — the most unfavourable time of
year for an expedition of the kind — and the extraordinary
scarcity of porters, due to the great demand recently occa-
sioned by the setting out of the Emin Pasha Relief Expedi-
tion and Count Teleki's expedition to Lake of Samburu,
increased in no small degree the difficulty I had in raising a
caravan. I was next confined to bed for some weeks with a
bad attack of malaria, but by the month of June I was so far
recovered as to be able to start, and set out from Mombaza
accompanied by a caravan of a hundred men, and by Baron
A. von Eberstein, who, in his official capacity as a represen-
tative of the German East Africa Company, was about to
visit Jagga with a view to selecting a site suitable for a sta-
tion. A fourteen days' march across the arid steppes brought
us, after the usual hardships, to the forest fastness of Taveta
at the foot of Kilimanjaro. Here we met Count Teleki and his
companion. Lieutenant von Höhnel. They were now on their
return journey, and, as the result of their experiences, were
able to give us much profitable advice. A few days later we
reached Marangu, one of the small states forming part of the
district of Jagga, the cultivated zone which runs round the
southern half of the mountain at an altitude of between 4000
and 6000 feet. Here I left the main body of my caravan
under the care of the chief, Mareale, and accompanied only
by Herr von Eberstein and a small picked body of men, pro-
ceeded to ascend the mountain. Five days were spent in
crossing the belt of primeval forest and the wide stretch of
pasture land above. The latter terminates at the small barren
plateau at the saddle (14,400 feet) between the two peaks of
Kilimanjaro — Kibo and Mawenzi.

viii PREFACE.

Here Herr von Eberstein and I took up our quarters alone.
After a day's rest we set out to attempt the ascent of Kibo,
the western and higher of the two peaks, which towered up-
wards above our camp for another 5000 feet. Soon we had
reached the first patches of snow, across Avhich we continued
to make tolerably rapid progress, until at length, at an altitude
of 16,400 feet, it began to snow, and shortly afterwards my
companion sank down exhausted. For some time I pressed
forward alone, but at last found myself confronted with a solid
Avail of ice, 150 feet high, which effectually barred the Avay.
It was the lower edge of the ice-cap that rests on the rim
of the Kibo crater, and I saw that without the aid of the
usual alpine climbing-tackle it would be impossible to scale it.
The snow beginning to fall more heavily, I hastened to rejoin
Von Eberstein, and together we made our Avay back to camp
with all possible speed. The rest of the day was spent in
taking observations and photographs, and in making various
measurements in the neighbourhood of the base of the cone.
Next morning we set out to return to Marangu. Although,
on this journey, we did not succeed in reaching the summit of
the mountain, I thus got as far as the ice-cap (18,000 feet),
and found that it was composed of a compact mass of ice.
We also explored the saddle-plateau and the series of hills
which rise from it ; and besides taking the photographs and
measurements above - mentioned, made large collections —
geological, botanical, and zoological — ^in the upper zones as
well as in the lower. The results of the expedition are briefly
sketched in the Avork entitled Zum Schneedom des Kilimand-
scharo, Leipzig, 1888, Avhich I published shortly after my return
to Europe.

Taking leave of Von Eberstein, who had the more immediate
object of his mission to attend to, I proceeded from Taveta
through the district of Kahe and Arusha to the south of Kili-

PREFACE. ix

manjaro, following the course of the Rufu all the way to the
coast. In the course of the journey I visited the German
stations of Mafi and Korogwe, which seemed to be in any-
thing but a flourishing condition. I was struck with the
same impression at the stations of Dunda, Madimola, and
Usungula, which I visited later on in the course of a run
from Bagamoyo through Usaramo. These unproductive, poorly
peopled districts in the midst of the steppes are alike unsuit-
able for trade and agriculture ; the colonial future of East
Africa lies in the coast and mountainous regions, a remark,
the truth of which is illustrated by the fact that the above-
named stations have all recently been abandoned.

I had not long returned to Europe when I resolved to
organise a second expedition, with a view to exploring the
German sphere of interest throughout its entire breadth. My
plan was to proceed from the coast to Kilimanjaro by way
of Usambara, Pare, and Ugweno, and, provided with more
suitable equipments, once more to attempt the ascent of the
mountain. From Kilimanjaro it was my intention to penetrate
westward to the south end of the Victoria Nyanza, and thence
to the Albert Edward Nyanza and the neighbouring mountain
regions lately explored by Stanley. The journey, I calculated,
would extend over two years.

My companion on this occasion was the Austrian geo-
grapher. Dr. Oscar Baumann, who had a large experience of
travel in West Africa. After spending several months in
making our preparations, we landed at Zanzibar in July 1888,
and immediately set about raising a caravan of 230 men. A
hundred loads of all sorts of articles of barter were sent on
to the south end of the Victoria Nyanza in advance, under
the charge of the well-known agent and carrier, Mr. Stokes.
Erom these I expected to be able to replenish my stores when
I should have got so far on my way.

X PREP A CE.

Before we left Pangani for the interior in the end of
Ausfiist, there had been considerable friction between the
Europeans and the Arabs all along the coast, but as yet no
one dreamed of anything like an open insurrection. The
caravan being too cumbrous to accompany us on our projected
mountain tour, at Lewa Dr. Baumann and I separated from
the main body, which was sent on by the usual caravan route
along the Pangani, with instructions to await us at Gonja,
among the mountains of Pare. Accompanied by sixty men,
Dr. Baumann and I then set out from the mission station of
Magila, and made our way into Usambara, which in the course
of the next three weeks we traversed from north to south,
profiting by the trip to make all manner of obseiTations and
collections. We were the first Europeans who had thoroughly
explored the district, which is, I should say, eminently suited
for cultivation. It is only a day's march inland from the coast,
and is easily accessible in all parts along the broad valleys by
which it is intersected. The average elevation is about 4250
feet, the countiy is well wooded, the climate temperate, and
the inhabitants industrious and peaceful.

Our little excursion over, we hastened on to Gonja, where we
were to overtake the rest of our caravan. When we arrived at
the appointed meeting-place, no caravan was to be seen, and
we were told that it had been detained in Masinde by the
chief Semboja. Here it had been broken up, and the porters
one and all had returned to the coast, leaving their loads
behind them. Without delay I set out for Masinde, but on
the way my porters deserted in a body, and I arrived at my
destination accompanied only by Dr. Baumann, two Somal,
and one or two Asikari. At Semboja's I learned that the
caravan had ostensibly acted upon orders received from the
Sultan of Zanzibar, by whom the men were said to have been
recalled on account of the rebellion which had just broken out

PREFACE. xi

at the coast. Leaving the loads to the care of Semboja, I and
my faithful few started off in pursuit. For eight days we
hastened on without meeting with any adventure worth men-
tioning. At the end of that time, however, we were joined by a
gradually increasing rabble of armed natives, who did not keep
us long in doubt as to their intentions. A day's march from
the coast we were overwhelmed and made prisoners, loaded
with chains, and thrown into a dark hut, where we Avere left
to lie for some days, ignorant of what fate might be in store for
us. At the end of that time the Arab Sheik Bushiri, the leader
of the insurrection, made his appearance, and it was agreed
that we should be allowed to go free on payment of a heavy
ransom. The stipulated sum having been paid through the
medium of an Indian, Bushiri himself conducted us to Pangani,
and after several hairbreadth escapes we reached Zanzibar, and
finally Europe, thankful to have got off with bare life. The
expedition was totally ruined, and all our European equip-
ments, with the goods intended to last a caravan of 230 men
for two years, were lost.

A graphic account of our journey through Usambara, and
of the other adventures of the expedition, has been given
by my companion. Dr. O. Baumann, in his charming book,
In Deutsch- Osta/rika während des Aufstandes : Vienna,
1889. As for myself, undaunted by the mischances which
had already befallen me, I at once set about preparing for a
third expedition, which, however, I resolved should be con-
fined to the Kilimanjaro region. As I was bent not only on
making a thorough geographical survey of the mountain, but
on ascending to its highest peak, I considered myself happy
in securing as a companion Herr Ludwig Purtscheller, a name
well known in European alpine circles. Events proved that
my expectations were amply justified. As is shown in the
following pages, we were successful almost beyond what I

xii PREFACE.

had dared to hope, all that had been left unfinished on my
first and second expeditions being fully completed on the
third. Kilimanjaro is now an open secret ; the great crater
of Kibo has been discovered, the summit of the mountain has
been attained, and the scientific material collected is such as
to afford a tolerably complete picture of the most interesting
region of equatorial East Africa.

In sitting down to recount my experiences, with the con-
quest of the " Ethiopian Mount Olympus " still fresh in my
memory, I feel how inadequate are my powers of description
to do justice to the grand and imposing aspects of Nature
with which I shall have to deal. It is easier to make a
journey than to tell the story of it, and it seems to me that all
I can do is to transport myself in thought to Africa once
more, and retrace my wanderings step by step and day by day,
narrating events as they occurred and as they impressed me at
the moment. In this way and by the help of the illustrations
it is hoped that the reader will gain a full and vivid idea
of the characteristics of the region. The plates have been
executed by the master-hand of Mr. E. T. Compton, and have
been selected from a series of 240 photographs taken by my-
self. They reproduce not only the main features of the
mountain scenery with remarkable fidelity, but are equally
true to the " local colour " of East Africa in general.

In recalling here and there my experiences on my two
former journeys, I have to express my thanks to my com-
panions, Herr von Eberstein and Dr. Oscar Baumann, to
whose kindly and sympathetic assistance the satisfactory
results achieved were largely due. I am equally indebted
to Herr Ludwig Purtscheller, who accompanied me on my
third journey, and stood by me on every occasion with the
greatest discretion and the most indomitable zeal. I have no
hesitation in saying, that the success of the expedition is

PREFACE. xiü

largely to be attributed to his untiring efforts, as may be seen
from almost eveiy chapter of this book. It also affords me
much pleasure to have this opportunity of acknowledging my
indebtedness to the German and English Governments, and to
the British East Africa Company, whom I have to thank for
allowing my expedition to pass through their territory while
the war was still going on.

To my other friends, Adolph Bastian, Herr von Danckel-
mann, Paul Güssfeldt, Bruno Hassenstein, Wilhelm Junker,
Pechuel-Loesche, Friedrich Eatzel, E. G. Ravenstein, Ger-
hard Rohlfs, Colonel Euan-Smith, Erich Steifensand, Justus
Strandes, and Major von AVissmann — to all of whom I am
indebted for much friendly advice and assistance both at home
and abroad — I tender my most hearty thanks. To Messrs.
Hassenstein and Ravenstein I am especially grateful ; to the
former for the arduous labour he has had in constructing the
maps, and for his assistance in compiling the bibliography ; to
the latter for the valuable information he afforded me on the
subject of the Mountains of the Moon, on which my remarks
in the introductory chapter are based.

Last, but not least, I have to thank all those who have so
kindly co-operated in classifying my collections and working
out my astronomical and meteorological data within such an
exceedingly short space of time. The conclusions at which
they have arrived are briefly stated in the Appendices, and will
be published more fully elsewhere. If from the latter, as well
as from the text, the reader gathers that we have done some-
thing more than merely " travel," I shall feel amply rewarded
for the time, the toil, and the means I have spent in the
exploration of German East Africa.

HANS MEYER.
Leipzig, Autumn 1890.

CONTENTS.

PAUK

Preface ............ v

INTRODUCTORY.

Kilimanjaro in the Past ........ i

The Mountains of the Moon— First Eeference to Kilimanjaro— Journeys of
Krapf and Kebmann — of Von der Decken and Thornton— of New and
Bushell— of Mr. H. H. Johnston— Establishment of First Mission Station
—Station of German East Africa Company— The Ehlers Controversy.

CHAPTER I.

To THE Swahili Coast 21

An Explorer's Outfit— Scientific Instruments— A Travelling Companion-
Voyage to Aden — The Passengers — Zanzibar — Changes at Zanzibar — An
old Friend — French Missionaries — Preparations for the Start — The
"Bouquet D'Afrique."

CHAPTER II.

MoMBAZA TO Taveta 44

How to Maintain Discipline— Members of the Caravan— On the March— A
Midday Halt— A Traveller's Bill of Fare— The East African Wilderness
— The East African Flora— Caught in the Act— Deserters— The Ngurun-
gas— Between Taro and Maungu— The Wilderness of Thorn Scrub— View
from Maungu— A Hospitable Missionary— The Mountains of Ndara—
Open Eebellion— The Tree-steppes— Big Game— Kilimanjaro— Arrival iu
Taveta.

CHAPTER III.

At Mandara's and Mareale's 84

Taveta — Life in Taveta— Taveta to Moji— Camp at the Himo— Arrival in
Moji — A Visit to Mandara — A Message through the Telephone — Sunset
on Kilimanjaro — A Word of Criticism— Irrigation Channels— Moji to

xvi CONTENTS.

PAGE

Marangu — Arrival in Marangu — Jack of all Trades — Wa-Jagga Warriors
— Internecine Feuds — Mareale's Career — Jagga Currency — Life in
Jlarangru — Excelsior !

CHAPTER IV.

To THE Summit of Kibo

Mountaineering Outfit — The Start— The Forest Zone — Forest Flora and
Fauna — Above the Forest — The Half- Way Camp — Senecio Johnstoni —
Tortoiseshell Rocks — Camp at the Foot of Kibo — The First Ascent —
Nearing the Ice— Our First East African Glacier — The Crater Rim —
Return to Camp — A Second Ascent — The Summit Reached— The Kibo
Crater— In Camp once more— A False Alarm — " Per Aspera ad Astra ! "

CHAPTER V.

Ten Days above Fifteen Thousand Feet . . . . .162

Fire ! — Camp at Mawenzi— First Ascent of Mawenzi — Checkmated — A Find —
Second Ascent of Mawenzi — View to the North of Mawenzi — Last Ascent
of Kibo — More East African Glaciers — "Fossil Remains" — The Kibo
Crater from the East^FareweU to Kibo — Our Days of Rest— Flora and
Fauna of the Upper Regions — Troublesome Neighbours — Preparations
for a Trip to Ugweno.

CHAPTER VI.

Through the Ugweno Country . . . . . . -195

Native Guides and Footpaths — Abundance of Game — A Thunderstorm —
Ugweno from the Plains— Iron Ore — First Camp in Ugweno — Arrival
at Maf urra's — View from Gamualla — A Tempting Offer — Making Brothers
— The Junguli Valley — Iron Ore — Manners and Customs of the Wa-
gweno — Population of Ugweno — Native Method of Smelting Iron — An
African Symphony — A Jagga Wedding.

CHAPTER VII.

Westward Ho! . . . . . . . . . -231

A Mountain Thunderstorm — Above Kiboso — Above Uru — A Herd of Elephants
— The State of Uru — An Inhospitable Chief — On the qui vive — The State
of Majamd — A New Way of "Making Brothers" — I Make Myself Agree-
able — Kibo from the West — Articles of Virtu — Home Comforts — Smith-
Work in Jagga — Native Dances.

CONTENTS. xvii

CHAPTER VIII.

PAGE

Homeward Bouxd 263

Good-bye to Jagga — A Slave Caravan— Giraffes — Driver-Ants — A Swahili
Caravan — A Plague of Locusts — The Steppes in the Kainy Season — A
Thunderstorm on the Steppes — Adelheid : " Requiescat in Pace " — Near-
ing the Coast — Rabai once more— An Arab Dhow— Emin Pasha and
Stanley — Departure for Europe.

CHAPTER IX.

Geography and Commercial Prospects of the Kilimanjaro Region 295

Kilimanjaro : Meaning of the Name — Geological Structure of the Mountain —
The Northern Face of the Mountain — The Kibo Crater — Physical History
of the Mountain — Rainfall and Prevailing Winds — Rainfall on North
and South Sides of the Mountain — Distribution of Ice and Snow — Irre-
gularity of the Decline — The Glaciers — The Ice within the Crater — Rivers
of the Kilimanjai'o Region — Zones of Vegetation — The Vegetation and
the Temperature — East African Soil and Climate— Effect of Local Rains
— East Africa as a Residence — East Africa in its Colonial Aspects — Con-
ditions of Trade — English East Africa — The Kilimanjaro Railway — The
Gospel of "Work for the Negro.

APPENDICES.

NO.

I. Copy op the Agreement between the Indian Merchant
Siwa Haji and Dr. Hans Meyer anent the Engage-
ment OF A Caravan ........ 345

II. Note on the Geology of the Kilimanjaro Region . . 346

III. On a Collection of Lichens formed by Dr. Hans Meyer

DURING Three Expeditions to East Africa (18S7-89) . 351

IV, The Mosses of the Kilimanjaro Region . . . . 361

V. The Liverworts (Hepaticae) of the Kilimanjaro Region . 366

VI. Siphonogamous Plants collected by Dr. Meyer in the
course of his Expeditions to Kilimanjaro in 1887 and
1889 368

VII. The Butterflies of the Kilimanjaro Region . . .371

xviü CONTENTS.

PAQK

VIII. The Beetles of the Kilimanjaro Region . . . -373

IX. Dr. Hans Meyer's Observations for the Determination of

Heights 375

X. Cartography 379

XL Bibliography 384

INDEX 399

ILLUSTRATIONS.

FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.

1. General View of Kilimanjaro from the South

East

2. Zaxzibar ........

3. Members of the Caravan .....

4. Ax East African Steppe .....

5. Rock Reservoirs {N'gurungas) at Taro

6. Cajmp at Taveta — A Market Scene .

7. Moji, Station of the German East Africa Com

PANY ........

8. Mareale, Chief of Marangu ....

9. Marangu, Native Homestead ....

10. Upper Limit of the Primeval Forest (9500 feet)

with Specimens of Senecio Johnstoni ...

11. KiBO from the South-East. View from Camp on

the Saddle Plateau (14,200 feet)

12. The Kibo Crater ......

13. Mawenzi from the South-West. View from Camp on

the Saddle Plateau (14,200 feet)

14. Mawenzi from the North- West. View from the

Saddle Plateau (14,400 feet) ....

15. Kibo from the East. View from the Mawenzi Camp

(14,300 feet) .......

16. Lake Jipe and the Mountains of Ugwexo

17. The Papyrus Swamp of the Rufu

18. Majame — Banana Plantation ....

19. Kilimanjaro from the South -We.st. View from

Majame (4630 feet) .....

20. Wilderness op Taita — Tree Euphorbias .

21. Camp near Mom baza ......

Frontispiece
facing page 33
45
55
62
87

94
108
114

141

155

165

175

183
218
226
248

253
271

288

ILLUSTRATIONS.

4-
5-
6.

7-
8.

lO.

1 1.

12.

13-

3 4.

15-
1 6.

17-
1 8.
19.

ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT.

Galleox of the Middle Ages .

Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak .

BoRASsus Palm .....

Street Scene at Mombaza

Swahili Porters ....

Camp-Scene — -Wa-taita Selling Food

Jagga Warriors ....

Jagga Sheep and Goats

Climbing Tackle ....

The Lower End of the Ratzel Glacier

Typical Plants from the Upper PiEgions of Kilimanjaro

Camp at the Foot of Mawenzi

Baboons among the Branches of a DCm Palm

Bridge Across the PtivER Dehu

Jneophron Vultures .

A Herd of Elephants

Lion and Kudu Antelope

Leaving Mombaza — An Arab Dhow

Surveyor's Instruments

PAGE

121

122

161

162

194

195
230
231
262
263
294
295

MAPS.

I. General Map of Dr. Hans Meyer's Journeys to

Kilimanjaro, 1887, 1888, and 1889 . . . facinrj page i

II. A Map of Kilimanjaro and the Surrounding

Country ........ at end

III. An Enlarged Map of the Upper Regions of Kili-
manjaro ........ facing page 122

,\Jk

1 / /" -'^■-«».m

KILIMAWJAÄO <-*'

'AT ^^

H. Mpvcrs ILdu.

L-

Rruifi-s of other Bxplo:

GENERAL MAP

1)^ BANS MEYEH.S

JOURNEYS TQ THE KILIMANJARO,

1887, 1888 & 1883.

Scale 1: 1500 000.

G-. Philip &/ Son, London.

ACEOSS EAST AFRICAN GLACIERS.

INTRODUCTORY.

KILIMANJARO IN THE PAST.

In the whole history of
African travel and dis-
covery there is no more
interesting chapter than
that which deals with
the exploration of Mount
Kilimanjaro, the story of
which we have briefly
endeavoured to sketch in
the following pages.

At a very early date
we find the classical geo-
graphers intent on pene-
trating the mystery which
enshrouded the equatorial
regions of inner Africa and
the undiscovered sources
of the Nile ; and by the time of Ptolemy they had got the
length of placing the fountains of the great river some
distance south of the equator, among the streams and lakes
of the mysterious snow-clad Mountains of the Moon.

GALLEON OF THE MIDDLE AGES.

2 INTRODUCTORY.

And here arises the interesting problem, AYhat are the
modern representatives of those lakes and mountains of the
ancient cartographers, with Ptolemy at their head ?

If we follow the more generally accepted opinion, we
must either, with Dr. Beke, look upon the snow-clad moun-
tain masses of Kenia and Kilimanjaro as the true representa-
tives of Ptolemy's Lunar Mountains, or we must seek them
farther in the interior, identifying the Victoria, Albert, and
Albert Edward Nyanzas with the lakes of the ancients and
of their successors the Arabs, and accept Stanley's Ruwenzori
as the mountain whose snows feed the Upper Nile.

On the other hand, if we adopt the view entertained by
other geographers, and notably by Mr. E. G. Ravenstein, we
arrive at another and much more probable result.

Up to the time of Ptolemy, as is shown by the map of
Eratosthenes, it was believed that the Nile had its origin
in a number of lakes in the vicinity of the Indian Ocean, if
not indeed in the Indian Ocean itself. The latter absurdity
was strongly condemned by Ptolemy, in whose map, as we have
already said, the Nile is shown to rise among the so-called
INIountains of the Moon, its head-waters combining to form
two lakes.

It would be interesting to learn in what way Ptolemy
came by his information at this early date. His knowledge
was certainly not derived from the north, for it is highly
improbable that either conqueror or explorer ever advanced
from that direction into the distant regions lying beyond the
equator. No record of such an achievement has ever reached
us, and Ptolemy, who gives such an unsatisfactory delinea-
tion of the "island of Meroe," which was easily within reach,
cannot be presumed to have possessed a more accurate know-
ledge of the Nile far, far to the south of it. Such informa-
tion as he had must have reached him from the east coast,

THE MOUNTAINS OF THE MOON. 3

with which commercial relations were maintained from the
most ancient times. We cannot, however, assume that this
information was based on the reports of persons who had
actually visited the interior, for in that case Ptolemy, accord-
ing to his wont, would have laid down their itineraries on
his map, or described it in one of his introductory books.
On the contrary, we may very safely conclude that he had
merely the hearsay evidence of coast-traders to go upon.

On Ptolemy's map the Nile in Meroe is formed by the
junction of three rivers, namely, an unnamed river which
flows past Axum ; the Astapus, which rises in Lake Coloe ;
and the Nile proper, which is fed by the lakes lying to the
south of the equator. Ptolemy knew nothing of the Hawash
river, or of the lakes nearer the coast, already referred to by
Strabo ; and thus, considering how little the former knew of
a region comparatively accessible even in his time, are we
justified in assuming that his knowledge of the distant sources
of the Nile was more precise ?

As resrards Ptolemv's delineation of the course of the
Nile, we learn from the anonymous Periplus of the Erythrean
Sea that Coloe was an ivory mart only three days distant from
the coast-town of Adulis ; that thence to Axum was a five
days' journey; that the "Nile" (that is, Ptolemy's Astapus)
was crossed beyond ; and that on the farther side of this
river were situated the passes [pylce) in modern Samen.
Coloe, consequently, instead of lying five hundred miles in
the interior, must be sought for close to the coast, and may
safely be identified with the Kole of the Abyssinian chroni-
clers and the Halai (Kalai) of modern maps.

Ptolemy further places the " Catadupi " on that branch
of the Nile which flows directly from the south ; but as the
Cataracts really occur on what is now known as the Blue
Nile, the river which Ptolemy represents as flowing out of

4 INTRODUCTORY.

the equatorial lakes must be the Blue, and not the White
Nile. We are thus enabled to identify the river which
passes Axum with the modern Mareb, whilst the Astapus,
rising in Lake Coloe, is the Takaze, and the " Nilus," rising
in the traditional distant lakes, is the Blue Nile. Ptolemy's
Lake Coloe can be no other than Lake Tana, and was sup-
posed by him to give rise to the Takaze (Atbara), just as
was believed to be the case by the early Portuguese explorers
of Abyssinia. But if it be granted that the Nile of Ptolemy
is the Blue Nile, it follows that the Mountains of the Moon
are not Ruwenzori, but the mountains of Abyssinia, among
whose snows the most easterly branch of the great river has
its origin.

It has likewise been attempted to connect the " Mountains
of the Moon" with Unyamwezi, supposed to mean "Land of
the Moon." There is, however, no justification for this, as
*' Unyamwezi " has probably no connection whatever with
the word "mzresi" (moon), but, through its first root-syl-
lable nyani, is rather related to such terms as Unyamyemhe,
Unyamhiingu, Unyariibetva, U^iyamivenda, &c. According to
the rules of the Bantu languages, the " Land of the Moon "
would be U-mwezi.

The Arab geographers faithfully repeated the errors of
their great predecessor, Ptolemy. Like him, they placed
the lakes of the Nile and the Mountains of the Moon in
the heart of Africa, but they added a third lake (Kura
or Kawar), close upon the equator, from which flowed not
only the Nile proper, but also the "Nile" of Makadosho
(Webbi Shabecla) and the "Nile" of Ghana (Niger). That
their knowledge even of the regions nearer the coast was of
the vaguest is abundantly proved by such statements as that
the " Mountains of the Moon " (Jebel el Kuamar) are oppo-
site the coast of Serendib (Ceylon) ; and that " the sources

FIRST REFERENCE TO KILIMANJARO. 5

of the Sindh (Indus) and of the Nile are in one place." If
they ever succeeded in reaching the interior from the east
coast — their caravans undoubtedly penetrated from the
north to the Niger and Lake Tsad — there is no trace of
any such enterprise in their writings. We leave it to the
reader to judge, therefore, whether their Lake Kura or Kawar
is to be identified with Tana, the Ptolemaic Coloe, or with
Lake Tsad. It was not until early in the present century
that their caravans first penetrated far into East Central
Africa, and returned with trustworthy information regarding
the snow-mountains and lakes of the interior. In short, it is
not too much to say, judging from the nomenclature of most
of the geographers from Ptolemy downwards through the
Middle Ages, that the lakes and mountains they described
as occupying Equatorial Africa were in reality those of
Abyssinia.

Of one thing we may oe almost certain, namely, that the
ancient "Mountains of the Moon" are not to be identified
with any equatorial snow-mountain, whether it be Ruwenzori
or Kilimanjaro. The first undoubted reference to the latter
occurs in the works of one Fernandez de Encisco, a Spanish
writer of the sixteenth century. This traveller had made a
voyage to Mombaza, which had been occupied by the Por-
tuguese since 1507, and from native caravans he obtained
some information regarding the topography of the interior.
In his Suma de Geograpkia, published in 15 19, he says that
" west of this port (Mombaza) stands the Ethiopian Mount
Olympus, which is exceeding high, and beyond it are the
Mountains of the Moon, in which are the sources of the Nile "
— the latter names plainly a reminiscence of Ptolemy. But
Encisco's bald assertion was supported by no confirmation,
and in succeeding maps the " Ethiopian Mount Olympus "
appears and disappears according to the fancy of the carto-

6 INTRODUCTORY.

grapher. It Avas not until the year 1848 that its existence
and position were finally established.

It was reserved for a German missionary, by name Johann
Rebmann, first to set eyes on one of the most wonderful of
the many wonders of Africa — the mountain w^hose snows
defy the fierceness of the equatorial sun. In the year 1846,
along with his colleague, Dr. Krapf, Rebmann landed on the
east coast and founded the mission station of Rabai-mpia
(New Rabai) on behalf of the Church Missionary Society.
The house they erected is still occupied by their successors
in the mission-field.

Bent on carrying the Gospel inland to the distant region

of Jagga, in April 1848 Rebmann started on the first of his
memorable series of trips to the interior. On the nth of
M'a,y, when still a day's journey from Taveta, he makes the
following simple entry in his diary : — " This morning, at
ten o'clock, we obtained a clearer view of the mountains of
Jagga, the summit of one of which was covered by what
looked like a beautiful white cloud. When I inquired as
to the dazzling whiteness, the guide merely called it * cold,'
and at once I knew it could be neither more nor less than
snow. . . . Immediately I understood how to interpret the
marvellous tales Dr. Krapf and I had heard at the coast, of
a vast mountain of gold and silver in the far interior, the
approach to which was guarded by evil spirits."

Continuing his way towards the Jagga state, Kilema,
Rebmann, every time he raised his eyes, saw " the eternal
ice and snow of Kilimanjaro, apparently but a few miles
distant, but in reality separated from him by about a couple
of days' journey."

Content for the time being with this discovery, Reb-
mann returned to Rabai in June, but in November of the
same year set out again for Jagga. Proceeding through

JOURNEYS OF KRAPF AND REBMANN. 7

Kilema to Majame, he "came so close to Kilimanjaro" that
at night the grand old head of the snow-capped moun-
tain " could be seen gleaming like silver in the bright
moonlight," and he thought that the foot of Kibo was
" distant only some three or four miles. . . . There are two
main peaks," the diaiy goes on to say, " which arise from
a common base measuring some twenty-five miles long by
as many broad. They are separated by a saddle-shaped
depression, running east and west for a distance of about
eight or ten miles. The eastern peak is the lower of the
two, and is conical in shape. The western and higher
presents the appearance of a magnificent dome, and is
covered with snow throughout the year, unlike its eastern
neighbour, which loses its snowy mantle during the hot
season. ... By the Swahili at the coast, the mountain is
known as Kilimanjai'o (Mountain of Greatness), but the War.
Jagga call it Kibo, from the snow with which it is perpe-
tually capped." All Rebmann's observations are correct, with
the exception of his estimate of the extent of the mountain,
and his interpretation of its name as " Mountain of Great-
ness." These errors we shall rectify later on.

Returning to Rabai in February 1849, the indefatigable
missionary immediately set about preparations for a third
and yet more extended journey " into the heart of Africa."
Despite the approach of the rainy season, April saw him
once more on the road to Jagga, " armed only with an
umbrella," and accompanied by a caravan of thirty porters.
Following his old route through Kilema and Uru to Majam^,
he reached a point, in his opinion, " so close to the snow-
line that, supposing no impassable abyss to intervene, I
could have reached it in three or four hours." Unfor-
tunately, illness and privation compelled him to turn back,
but the unfinished work of exploration was taken up by

8 INTRODUCTORY.

his colleague, Dr. Krapf, and in some measure successfully
accomplished.

In November 1849, Krapf organised an expedition to
Ukamba, a district lying to the north-east of Kilimanjaro,
and on the loth of the month obtained from the mountains
of Maungu " a magnificent view of the snow-mountain Kilima-
njaro in Jagga, which loomed up from behind the ranges of
Ndara and Bura. . . . Even at this distance I could make
out that the white substance crowning the summit was cer-
tainly snow." On three other occasions, in the course of
this journey, Krapf had an opportunity of assuring himself
of the reality of the snow-cap, his testimony thus placing
the accuracy of Rebmann's reports beyond a doubt. The
altitude was estimated at 12,500 feet.

This confirmatory evidence notwithstanding, the late Mr.
W. Desborough Cooley, a critical geographer of great merit,
persistently cast doubts upon the assertions of the two mis-
sionaries, and even made unwarrantably fierce attacks upon
the worthy men themselves. These attacks, combined with
a subsequent passage at arms which he had with Von der
Decken, won for this otherwise estimable savant a certain
degree of unenviable notoriety. The controversy is here
noted because it arose out of the interesting question as
to whether snow-clad mountains did or did not exist in
Equatorial Africa. According to Cooley, Rebmann's dis-
covery was only " a most delightful mental recognition,
not supported by the evidence of the senses," while Krapf
was characterised as a man of vaulting ambition, whose
taste for dealing with mighty problems was not accompanied
by that mental acumen without which intellectual activity
becomes to its possessor a highly dangerous endowment.
Having thus more than hinted that the discoveries of the
two simple missionary explorers were of a purely visionary

OF VON DER DECKEN AND THORNTON. 9

nature, Cooley and his partisans deemed they had disposed
for ever of the snow-mountains of Equatorial Africa. In
the course of a few years, however, events were to prove the
contrary.

In 1 86 1, Baron Von der Decken, who a year earlier
had made an unsuccessful attempt to reach Lake Nyassa,
travelled as far as Jagga, accompanied by the English
geologist Thornton, the former associate of Livingstone. In
the month of August, they attempted the ascent of the
mountain, but, after three days spent in penetrating the
forest zone, they were compelled by stress of weather
to turn back at a height of only 8200 feet. Von der
Decken, like Rebmann before him, then proceeded to the
western side of the mountain, and was favoured with an un-
obstructed view of Kibo. " Bathed in a flood of rosy light,
the cap that crowns the mountain's noble brow gleamed
in the dazzling glory of the setting sun. . . . Beyond
appeared the jagged outlines of the eastern peak, which
rises abruptly from a gently inclined plain, forming, as it
were, a rough, almost horizontal platform. Three thousand
feet lower, like the trough between two mighty waves, is
the saddle which separates the sister peaks one from the
other."

On his return to Europe, Von der Decken added his
testimony to that of Rebmann, describing Kibo as a "mighty
dome, rising to a height of about 20,000 feet, of which the
last three thousand are covered with snow."

But Von der Decken was not content to rest here. In
the following year, along with Dr. Otto Kersten, he paid a
second visit to ICilimanjaro, and starting from Moji in the
month of December, succeeded in reaching an altitude of
14,000 feet. "During the night it snowed heavily," he says
in his account of the expedition, " and next morning the

lo INTRODUCTORY.

ground lay white all arouud us. Surely the obstinate Cooley
will be satisfied now."

As the result of observations made on this journey, the
height of Kibo, the western peak, was estimated at 18,680
feet, that of Mawenzi at 16,250 feet. On Kibo, the snow-
line was stated to be 16,400 feet; water w^as said to cease at
9000 feet; and all vegetation at 12,000 feet. Eemarking on
the appearance presented by this peak, Thornton adds that
" on the north-east side the rim of the old crater can still be
distinguished, but on the south-west, w^hich is considerably
lower, it seems to have been destroyed." As regards the geo-
logical structure of the mountain, the whole mass was found
to consist of lava which had consolidated in the open air.

But the "obstinate Cooley" was not yet convinced, and
hotly took up the glove thrown down to him. " So the Baron
says it snowed during the night," he exclaims. " In December,
with the sun standing vertically overhead ! The Baron is to
be congratulated on the opportuneness of the storm. But it
is easier to believe in the misrepresentations of man than in
such an unheard-of eccentricity on the part of Nature. This
description of a snowstorm at the equator during the hottest
season of the year, and at an elevation of only 13,000 feet, is
too obviously a ' traveller's tale,' invented to support Krapf's
marvellous story of a mountain 12,500 feet high covered with
perpetual snow."

This fierce onslaught did harm to no one but Cooley
himself, and it hardly required Barth' s warm defence to
secure to Yon der Decken and his companion the recogni-
tion they so richly deserved at the hands of geographical
students. As a mark of its appreciation of his valuable ser-
vices, the Eoyal Geographical Society of London presented
the enterprising explorer with its much-coveted gold medal.

To the results of Von der Decken s explorations, as

OF NE W A ND B U SHELL . 1 1

recorded by Dr. Kersten, no material addition was made by
later travellers till the Kilimanjaro region was visited by Mr.
Joseph Thomson in 1883. Even Von der Decken's map
remained practically unaltered until my own recent journey
to the same district enabled me to supply a number of details.

A period of nine years elapsed before the work of explora-
tion was resumed in the region. Then, in 1871, the mission-
.a ries Charles New and R. Bushell penetr ated as far~as Moji,
the former also attempting the ascent ol the summit: — ¥he
season was unfavourable, and he was compelled to turn back,
but a second attempt in August of the same year proved
more successful. Making for the south-east of Kibo, where
the ice-cap stretches down almost to the base of the cone.
New crossed the snow-line, and so won for himself the dis-
tinction of being the first European to reach the equatorial
snows. So far as can be made out from his somewhat vague
description, the height he attained was a little over 13,000
feet. Perhaps the most interesting , result of the expedition
was the discovery that between the base of the mountain
and the snow-line the vegetation is naturally divided into
six distinct zones.

On his return journey, New discovered the beautiful little
crater lake of Jala, lying at the foot of Kilimanjaro, on its
south-eastern side. Carried away with the enthusiasm born
of these successes, and charmed with the wonderful beauty of
Jagga, he returned two years later to the scene of his former
labours, but was stripped of all he possessed by Mandara, the
rapacious chief of Moji, from whom he was glad to escape
with his life. Utterly broken down in health and spirits, he
liastened to quit Jagga, but died on his road to the coast.

This tragic termination to New's promising career seems
for a time to have frightened Europeans from the region,
and another ten years elapsed before Dr. G. A. Fischer, in

12 INTRODUCTORY.

the course of his expedition to Lake Naivasha in 1883,
passed to the south of the mountain and visited its giant
neighbour Mount Meru, and the adjacent range of Arusha.
In the same year Kihmanjaro itself was visited by the young
Scottish geologist, Mr. Joseph Thomson, who was then on his
way to the Masai country, having already won his spurs
among the knight-errantry of Africa, first as companion and
afterwards as successor to Keith Johnston in the expedition
to Lake Nyassa in 1878.

Starting from Moji, the kingdom of "the notorious thief"
Mandara, Thomson was unable to do more than penetrate
the forest region to a height of about 9000 feet ; but in an
excursion to the district of Shira, and subsequently, while
pursuing his route towards Masai Land, he covered much
new ground, and gathered the materials for a clear and
comprehensive account of the probable origin and main geo-
logical and geographical features of the mighty volcanic mass.
Thomson was the first to give us any information regarding
the northern aspect of the mountain, which he describes as
" a solitude, owing to its extremely precipitous nature," with
"no projecting platforms and no streams;" and his sketch
of its physical histoiy — of Mawenzi as the original seat of
eruption, the subsequent upheaval of Kibo during a later
phase of volcanic activity, and the formation of the nume-
rous parasitic cones and of the terrace of Jagga as the final
manifestation of a gradually decaying volcanic energy — was
a yet more important contribution to scientific knowledge.

As much can scarcely be said of Thomson's successor in
the field, INJr. H. TL Johnston. Sent out by the British
Association and the Koyal Geographical Society for the im-
mediate purpose of making a more exhaustive survey than
had yet been possible of the flora and fauna of the region,
Johnston, who had already distinguished himself on the

OF MR. H. H. JOHNSTON. 13

Congo, made a stay of some sixmontljs in Jagga and the
neighbourhood ; and though the extent and varrety-of-his
collections did_ not g uite correspond to the length of time
he spent in making them,- Jii s visit -furnishe d him w ith the Q
materials for a very charming book^f travels, full ofclever
sketches and equally delightful word -pictures of man and
Nature. Unfortunately these are in many instances over-
drawn. In describing the difficulties and dangers he en-
countered, the fights among the natives, and many other
details, Mr. Johnston's facile pen has been completely at the
mercy of his ardent imagination. His_account of the com-
mercial prospects of this region is full of exaggeration ; whilst
his map scarcely presents a single novel feature.

During the month of October, Johnston on two occasions
attempted the ascent of the summit. On the first, starting
from Moji, he penetrated the forest region to a height of
8600 feet. Here, in the beginning of the hot season, he
tells us that in the evening " a white rime settled on the
grass." The approach of a body of hostile natives prevented
him from going farther.

On the second occasion he started from the Jagga state of
Marangu, respecting the harmless chief of which, Mareale,
and his yet more harmless mother, he treats us to a variety
of startling legends. His route was the same as that which
I myself followed several times later on, and reaching the
upper limit of the forest zone, he formed a camp, at an alti-
tude of nearly 10,000 feet, from which to pursue his explora-
tions. From this point he made an excursion to the base
of Mawenzi, covering the distance in a single day — a feat I
cannot but consider herculean, seeing it took us double the
time to traverse the same ground.

Dismissing Mawenzi with the remark that he doubts
"if it be possible for any one to reach the summit, owing

14 INTRODUCTORY.

to the want of foothold," Johnston next turned his attention
to Kibo. Starting from his camp, as before, after an " easy
climb " of four hours and a half, he and his three attendants
reached an elevation of 14,117 feet, and stopped to lunch at
a spot a few hundred feet below the base of the small peak
which rises midway from the edge of the plateau above. Climb-
ing upwards by himself for about a thousand feet more, he
reached the peak itself, and was now " on the central connect-
ing ridge of Kilimanjaro, and could see a little on both sides."

I must confess I do not understand this description. In
ascending from Johnston's camping-ground the view is entirely
blocked by the southern edge of the plateau between Kibo
and Mawenzi, and no outlook is possible over the country
behind. Its comparatively even line is broken only by the
tiny peak referred to above, which we, as well as Johnston,
found such a useful landmark. But this peak does not lie
" at an elevation of 15,150 on the central connecting ridge ; "
it occurs at an altitude of only 13,780 feet, and the ground
gradually rises from its base to the highest point of the saddle,
which lies a considerable distance behind. Any view of the
surrounding country " on both sides" is thus impossible.

From this point, however, which is described as "nearly as
high as the summit of Mont Blanc," Johnston made his way
along a naiTow ridge, till by degrees he was completely over-
come by the feeling of " overwhelming isolation," and was
obliged to have recourse to " some brandy and water from
his flask " in order to restore his sinking courage. By this
time it was four o'clock in the afternoon, and having ascer-
tained that, according to his calculation, the altitude was
16,315 feet, he made his way back again as fast as he could
to the peak on the edge of the saddle, which he ultimately
reached " in the waning daylight."

Again I fail to apprehend the drift of Mr. Johnston's

ESTABLISHMENT OF FIRST MISSION STATION. 15

narrative. If he only stopped for half an hour to lunch at
the peak in question, it must have been two o'clock when
he started off to continue the climb by himself; and from the
distance he had to traverse, it would be utterly impossible for
him to get beyond the base of Kibo by four. For the first
time, however, we begin to understand his remark that
Kilimanjaro is "a mountain that can be climbed without
even the aid of a walking-stick." He never reached a point
at which a w^alking-stick would be necessary, let alone an
altitude of 16,315 feet, and his mountaineering feats did
not exceed those of the missionary New.

Towards the end of 1884 Johnston returned to England.
Carried away by his glowing descriptions, the Church Mission-
ary Society immediately resolved to found a mission station
in Moji, and for this purpose sent out Bishop Hannington to
visit the Jagga district. March of 1885 saw Hannington in
the^new field of missionary enterprise, where, in addition to
his other work, he found time to make a most interesting
botanical collection, which included several species of moss
and lichen not observed by former travellers, and of great
importance in relation to the geographical distribution of
Alpine plants. (See Appendix.) Hannington was followed
by a number of brother missionaries, whose efforts on behalf
of the temporal interests of Britain, while nominally looking
after the spiritual affairs of their flock, were rudely interrupted
by the arrival of Dr. Jühlke and Lieutenant Weiss. These
emissaries of the German East African Company concluded
a treaty with Mandara, whereby he agreed to recognise the
suzerainty of the Company^,,iil4hou§lv-sliürtly befoi'^, he had
concluded a slmiTärTi^eat}' with General Matthews,* acting on
behalf of the Sultan of Zanzibar. The final outcome of this
agreement has been to hand over Kilimanjaro to Germany.

* An English officer, commander-in-cliief of the Sultan's army. — Tr.

i6 INTRODUCTORY.

To the Avritings of Thomson and Johnstoiiwe_may_jil_so
trace the sudden irruption of English and American sport-
ing caravans which has recently taken place in the district.
On the whole, these pleasure parties have not come and
gone without adding their quota to the scientific knowledge
of the region ; notably the expedition under Willoughby and
Harvey, who during the years 1886-87 made many excur-
sions to different parts of the mountain, ascended as far as
the saddle plateau, and returned with a valuable collec-
tion of zoological specimens. Their wholesale slaughter of
the game, however, in the endeavour to swell the record of
"big bags," cannot be too severely criticised. Other sports-
men have striven to emulate their achievements in this
respect ; and if things are to continue as they have begun,
it needs no seer to prophesy the ultimate result. The rich
preserves of East Africa will share the fate of the vast hunting-
grounds of South Africa and North America, and in the not
far distant future will utterly cease to exist.

For the most important contribution to our knowledge
of Kilimanjaro since the time of Von der Decken, we
have to thank the Hungarian expedition under Count Teleki
and Lieutenant Höhnel. Having broken much new ground
towards the plains of Kahe and the neighbourhood surround-
ing Mount Meru, Teleki followed Johnston's route to the
saddle plateau, and was the first seriously to attempt the
ascent of Kibo, which he climbed to a height of 15,800 feet.
His companion at the same time took a series of valuable
observations for bearings and altitudes, and drew up a map
which includes the northern side of the mountain — a district
visited by the expedition at a later date. In August 1887,
when on my way to Kilimanjaro for the first time, I met
Teleki and Höhnel at Taveta. They were then on the way to
Masai Land, and, following their advice, along with my com-

STATION OF GERMAN EAST AFRICAN COMPANY. 17

panion, Herr von Eberstein, I made for the saddle plateau by
way of Marangu, whence I succeeded in ascending Kibo to
a height of about 18,000 feet. Here further progress was
checked by the precipitous face of the ice-cap, and we were
compelled to turn back. For farther particulars of this
attempt I refer my readers to the preface.

On our return to Taveta, we met the expedition of the
German East African Company, which afterwards founded
a station in Moji and another in Lower Arusha, besides
doing some good work in exploring the southern plains.
The district was next visited by a number of Englishmen,
in the wake of whom came the American naturalist Dr.
Abbott. During a stay of a year and a half, Dr. Abbott
thoroughly explored the whole of Jagga, and the flanks of
the mountain as far as the saddle plateau, making most valu-
able additions to our knowledge of its flora and fauna.

In the autumn of 1888, while I was travelling with Dr.
Baumann in Usambara, Abbott resolved to attempt the
ascent of Kibo in company with Herr Otto Ehlers, the
representative of the German East African Company in
Moji. Ehlers' narrative of the expedition is worth repeating.
Pitching their camp at an altitude of 9800 feet, Ehlers
set off by himself for Mawenzi, and, according to his own
account, reached a height of 16,400 feet, doing the distance
there and back in a single forenoon ! The camp was then
shifted farther west to a spot nearer the foot of Kibo, at
a height of 14,450 feet. Early next morning Abbott and
Ehlers started together to ascend the peak on its northern
side, and by seven o'clock had reached an altitude of 17,000
feet, when Abbott was suddenly seized with illness and could
go no farther. Ehlers kept on by himself, and, to quote
his article in Petermann's Mitteilungen, had "to make his
way partly over sheets of sand and ashes, partly over beds

1 8 INTRODUCTORY.

of volcanic debris, the difficulty of climbing being greatly
enhanced by the newly-fallen snow, among which he fre-
quently slid backwards several feet at a time." At a height
of 18,000 feet he let his alpenstock fall into a chasm, and
lost half an hour " sliding and crawling after it on all
fours to a depth of 200 feet." Nevertheless, " after frequent
pauses," he reached " the wall of ice which encircles the
entire summit" shortly before ten o'clock. Here he spent
some time in a vain search for a possible way of access to
the highest point, but was eventually forced to retrace his
steps and seek an opening farther to the west. At last,
*' after a painful climb," he " succeeded in reaching the
north-western side of the ' summit ' (sic), and gained a
tolerably extensive view of the surroundings. There was no
trace of a crater, and the ice formed a series of gentle undula-
tions covered with a layer of newly-fallen snow." The altitude
attained " could not have been less than 19,680 feet."

Ehlers' preposterous narrative was severely criticised by
Dr. Baumann in the Mitteilungen of the German and Aus-
trian Alpine Club. The paper called forth a reply from
Ehlers, in the course of which he expressed himself more
clearly, to the effect that, when he used the words " there was
no trace of a crater," he ought to have said " of an open
crater," believing, as he did, that the mouth of the crater
was concealed and closed by the superimposed masses of ice
and snow.

Ehlers then went on to explain that on the southern
rim, at a distance of about a mile and a half, he observed
a point which he took to be about 200 feet higher than that
at which he stood, but was prevented from trying to reach
it by the approach of clouds.

But the controversy was not permitted to end here. In
the following year, fresh from a series of observations on the

THE EHLERS CONTROVERSY. 19

northern flank of Kibo, Herr Ludwig Purtscheller, afterwards
my companion in 1889, felt constrained to add his protest to
that of Baumann. " According to Dr. Abbott's account," says
Purtscheller, "he and Ehlers left their camp on the plateau
shortly before seven o'clock. By this hour, according to
Ehlers, they had already reached an altitude of 1 7,000 feet.
How these statements are to be reconciled with the fact that
the camp lay at an altitude of only 14,430 feet, is a problem
impossible to solve. Towards eight o'clock Dr. Abbott was
compelled to give in on account of illness, and Ehlers went on
alone, but, strange to say, both travellers were back in camp by
two in the afternoon. Now, the height of Kibo on the north
and north-west side is about 19,350 feet ; and even had there
been no newly-fallen snow to make the ascent more laborious,
it would be impossible for Ehlers or any one else to reach
the summit in seven hours. On the other hand, if Ehlers
mistook the eastern for the northern aspect of the peak, in
view of the difficulties presented by the rents and cracks in
the ice-sheet at this point, the climb must have occupied him
at least twelve hours. . . . Bearing these facts in mind, we
can very well believe that Herr Ehlers saw no trace of a
crater."

But before this article came under Ehlers' notice, he had
written from East Africa to the Kölnische Zeittmg, admitting
that his first report had been misleading, and that in fact he
had been mistaken in supposing he had reached the summit.

Ehlers has done next to nothing to augment our scien-
tific knowledge of the Kilimanjaro region, but his humorous
sketches of Jagga life and manners are very readable, and
he has helped to foster the colonial spirit by bringing home
with him several natives of Jagga for exhibition in Germany.
Since Ehlers returned the Kilimanjaro states have been visited
by a number of missionaries and sportsmen, of whom perhaps

INTRODUCTORY.

the most noteworthy is the young American, Mr, Chanler,
who, proceeding to the region merely for the purpose of
sport, has, nevertheless, distinguished himself by a thorough
exploration of the lower slopes of the mountain.

During the last decade Kilimanjaro has been visited for
various objects by no fewer than forty-nine Europeans. My
own expedition of 1889 is the most recent, and what was
accomplished in the course of it may be gathered from the
following pages.

'«•=?^:

CHAPTER I.

TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

The art of travel, like eveiy other art,
■// C^^:^: is only to be acquired by practice.
In the choice of equipments
especially — on the suitability
of which so much depends —
experience is the best, if not
the only teacher. Nowadays,
when all the world is on the
move, and all sorts of travel-
ling requisites are at the traveller's
command, the difficulty is not so much
to know what to take as what to omit,
and beginners are far more likely to
err in taking too much than in taking
too little. For my own part, after
three different trips to the interior of
Africa, I should lay it down as a
general rule that the various patent
gravelling effects so temptingly dis-
played and be-praised in our European
warehouses, are one and all to be
avoided. The collapsible tent furni-
ture, lamps, and lanterns, the india-rubber air-beds and pillows
of the advertisements, however convenient and useful in

A B0RASSU3 PALM.

22 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

countries where they can easily be repaired when necessary,
are worse than useless in regions remote from civilisation.

The simplest mechanism, the most careful workmanship,
the best materials, — these are the great considerations in the
selection of an explorer's outfit, and accordingly, in most cases,
the dearest proves the cheapest in the end.

Unfortunately, if we keep these three considerations always
in view, it is not possible to "furnish throughout" in Ger-
many. In certain articles — scientific instruments and arms,
for instance — the preference is to be given to those of Ger-
man make ; but in others the foreigner excels us, and more
especially the English, whose large colonial experience, and
intimate acquaintance with everything that may be included
under the term " sport," best enable them to meet the tra-
veller's peculiar wants.

It may not be amiss if I here devote one or two pages
to a few hints on the above subject. And first, as regards
clothing. It is a vexed question, which it seems to me
every one must decide for himself, whether woollen, silk,
or cotton underclothing is the best for warm climates. For
my own part, after trying all, I declare in favour of cotton,
and particularly of knitted cotton, which has these advan-
tages over the others : — it does not shrink in consequence
either of perspiration or frequent washing ; it absorbs the
moisture from the skin and allows it to evaporate with
equal ease ; it may be thoroughly cleansed either wath cold
or warm water ; and it is of all the most durable.

For the march, I should recommend, in addition, an
ordinary pair of trousers, such as are made in Zanzibar at a
very moderate figure, of a strong tan-coloured cotton material.
A jacket of the same is useful for wearing in camp or in
cool weather.

Thick w^oollen socks are the most comfortable for walk-

AN EXPLORER'S OUTFIT. 23

ing, and strong hob-nailed lacing boots, that come up well
over the ankle. A pair of strong leather slippers, cut not
too low in front, is indispensable for camp wear, or in case
of accident to the foot.

The best head-gear for all weathers is an English sun-
helmet, such as are supplied by Messrs. Silver & Co.,
London ; while a soft fez or smoking-cap should be kept
for wearing in the shade — one with flaps for drawing down
over the ears on a cold night to be preferred.

The tent and camp bedstead come next. These are
to be had of such excellent quality from Mr. Benjamin
Edgington, London, that nothing better can be desired.
Edgiugton's double-roof ridge tent of specially prepared
green rot-proof canvas, with ash poles and an outer fly,
and Edgiugton's portable camp bedstead with ash supports
and a thin cork mattress, have been used by Stanley, Wiss-
mann, Francois, Kund, Johnston, and others with as much
satisfaction as by myself. With a horsehair pillow, a Como
rug for warm nights, and thick camel's-hair blankets for cold
ones, the bedstead is complete.

Excellent folding tables and chairs, of simple construc-
tion, are furnished by Messrs. Silver & Co. Strong tin
boxes, of a size and shape suitable for transport by porters,
can best be obtained from F. A. Schulze, Fehrbelliner
Strasse, Berlin, who has recently produced a most satisfac-
tory article from my own design. At the same place may be
had strong square lamps for tent use, and galvanised iron
oil-cans and water-buckets. The bucket should be large
enough to contain all the table and cooking utensils — which,
of course, are best made of enamelled iron — the whole being
enclosed by a strong lid. It is important that the canteen
should be thus capable of being packed in the water-bucket,
otherwise, in the hurry of striking camp in the early morn-

24 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

ing, things have a mysterious way of getting '* lost," through
the carelessness of the cook or the wilful oversight of the
lazy porter.

The most satisfactory medicine-chest is that supplied at
the Berlin Simons- Apotheke, prepared according to Dr. Falken-
stein's directions for travellers in the tropics. The best
plan is to have the medicines put up in doses in the form
of lozenges, and the whole enclosed in a strong tin box, as a
protection against breakage and damp.

Arms for the soldiers, and indeed for Europeans in general,
have repeatedly been supplied by Immanuel Messert of Suhl.
In this department the traveller may be left pretty much to
indulge his own fancy ; it is much more important that he
should be a good shot, and that his rifle should be good of its
kind, than that he should confine himself to a weapon of a
particular calibre. There are, however, certain limitations
imposed by the conditions of African sport, the size and
shyness of the game, the distance at which one is some-
times compelled to take aim, and so forth. In common with
other travellers, I have arrived at the conclusion that two
guns only are necessary to meet every emergency — a .450
or .500 Express (a double-barrelled Lancaster or single-
barrelled Mauser*), which may be used for all game, from
a rhinoceros to an antelope; and a double-barrelled 12-bore
fowling-piece, which with small shot. No. 5 (swan-shot), will
bring down wild-fowl ; with buckshot, gazelles and leopards.
In case of attack by natives, large shot is always the best ;
and it is also advisable to carry a revolver to use at close
quarters. Any one intending to visit the remote districts
in which elephants are still to be met with, may take in
addition a short double-barrelled 8-bore ; but this heavy
weapon is not necessary, as the .500 Express serves the

* The Austrian regulation weapon, so-called from its inventor. — Tr.

SCIENTIFIC INSTRUMENTS. 25

purpose almost equally well. For my own part, I never
found it necessary to use my elephant- gun.

For ornithological collectors a small fowling-piece is indis-
pensable.

Contrary to my custom on former expeditions, instead of
taking empty cartridges, I this time carried a large quantity
ready filled. The objection urged against carrying loaded
cartridges is that they are apt to explode in transit. This
danger, however, is entirely obviated by the present method
of packing. On the other hand, the labour of filling the
cartridges is so irksome to the sportsman, that a very little of
it almost suffices to give him a distaste to sport altogether,
not to speak of the risk he constantly runs of being taken
completely at a disadvantage. I therefore strongly recom-
mend that loaded cartridges only should be taken, those with
brass cases being most suitable, as the paper ones are liable
to be spoiled by damp and constant handling.

When the expedition has been organised with a view to
scientific purposes, the following instruments may be taken in
addition to the articles already named —

For determining latitudes, the small compendious, portable
theodolite of Hildebrand & Schramm of Freiburg, in Saxony,
is quite sufficient. Its vertical circle is graduated for direct
readings of thirty seconds, and for calculated readings of
fifteen seconds, and the instrument is perfectly adapted to the
high meridian altitude of a tropical sun. The pocket chrono-
meters of Lange & Sons of Glashütte, near Dresden, are
sufficient for making fairly approximate determinations of
longitudes, while one of Reis's collapsible measuring rods
affords perhaps the most reliable means for the measurement
of a base, and the determination of relative heights and
distances.

Heights may be absolutely determined by means of the

26 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

barometer ; but, as no convenient portable form of the mer-
curial barometer has yet been invented, the traveller is forced
to fall back on the aneroid, controlled by the boiling-point
thermometer. On my expedition to the mountains of Usam-
bara in 1888, I managed to carry a mercurial barometer with
me all the Avay, but it was more a source of worry than
anything else, and in the end it got hopelessly out of order.
Instruments that require delicate manipulation are quite
unsuitable for roughing it in the wilds of Africa, and the
aneroid and boiling - point thermometer answer very well
for all practical purposes. My aneroid I got from Bohne of
Berlin, and my thermometer from Fuess in the same city.

Fuess also supplied me with the indispensable sling
thermometer, my Psychrometer, and my self-registering ther-
mometer. From Messrs. Cassella of London I obtained my
large compasses, which fitted into the top of a pole that
served as a stand ; and E. Schneider of Vienna furnished
me with smaller compasses, attached to square metal plates.
These latter I used on the march. From Stegemann of
Berlin I obtained a capital photographic apparatus, which
did me good service. It was fitted with all the appliances
for photographing groups and scenery, and with Monkhoven's
dry plates, which are the best for tropical climates.

My scientific equipments w-ere completed by the special
appliances necessary for making zoological, botanical, and
geological collections, with the needful maps and books.
In addition, there were all the requirements for our pro-
spective sojourn among the equatorial snows — thick warm
clothing, Alpine boots, knapsacks, glacier ropes, ice-axes,
snow-spectacles, &c., all of which were obtained in Munich,
except a small tent from Edgington's, and two sheepskin
sleeping- sacks from Leipzig.

Our preparations, which of course included a thousand

A TRAVELLING COMPANION. 27

details it is impossible to enumerate here, occupied tliree
months. Meanwhile, armed with letters of introduction
from the Foreign Office, I put myself in communication with
the British East African Company with a view to obtaining
their permission to use the shortest road to Kilimanjaro,
namely, that from Mombaza through the British sphere of
interest. In London I was most kindly received. On being
assured that the objects of the expedition were scientific,
not political, and that I would do nothing prejudicial to
British interests within the British sphere of influence, the
Imperial British East African Company furnished me wdth
letters of introduction to their agents, instructing them to
further my interests by eveiy means in their power.

One point, and that perhaps the most important, still
remained to be settled — the choice of a travelling companion.
From former experience I had learned that it was useless to
dream of the ascent of Kilimanjaro, and a prolonged stay
above the snow-line, without the aid of a companion familiar
with mountaineering. Volunteers in abundance had come
forward to offer their services, but none so far had seemed
to meet all the requirements of the case. The choice of a
travelling companion for the interior of Africa is a weighty
matter at any time. The relationship is so intimate and
so constant, there is such close community of interests and
experiences, that either there must be the most perfect agree-
ment in tastes and habits of mind between the two comrades,
or the one must be in complete subordination to the other.
In the present instance, the difficulty was enhanced by the fact
that a thorough knowledge of Alpine climbing was an indis-
pensable requisite. I had communicated with several Tyrolese
and Swiss guides, but without being able to come to a decision,
and was just on the point of making inquiries in other direc-
tions, when I unexpectedly received a letter which at once

28 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

settled the question. Herr Ludwig Purtscheller of Salzburg,
a teacher of gymnastics, and the associate during many
expeditions of the two Zigmondys, wrote saying that there
was nothing he would like better than to be permitted to
join me in my enterprise. He was the very man I wanted,
and I agreed to his proposal with an alacrity I never had
cause to regret.

Meanwhile my goods had been packed and shipped at
Bremen for Zanzibar, and the end of June saw Herr Purt-
scheller and myself in the train for Genoa via the St. Gothard.
In Genoa, for the fifth time, I took up my quarters in that
most charming of hotels, the Plotel du Pare, pending the
departure of our steamer.

But we were not permitted to quit the peaceful soil of
Europe without an unpleasant reminder of the war then
raging in our promised land. The East African blockade still
continued, and the importation of arms and ammunition was
strictly forbidden. I received a telegram from Bremen saying
that the Lloyd had been obliged to leave my boxes of am-
munition behind, as they could not take through packages
for Zanzibar. I at once gave orders that the boxes should
be sent on to Aden by the next steamer, which left a fort-
night later, though I was much concerned to think I should
not be able personally to see them stowed on board some
French or English vessel, my engagements making it im-
possible for me to delay at Aden so long. An easy way
out of the difficulty would have been to get the Govern-
ment to take my arms on board a man-of-war; but such an
exceptional favour seemed too great for a simple traveller
to expect, who was not going out in any official capacity,
but merely to explore the German Protectorate on his own
account and at his own expense.

But our spirits were not to be damped by the thought of

VOYAGE TO ADEN. 29

difRculties, and our surroundings on board the North German
Lloyd Company's steamer Preussen were too pleasant to allow
us to dwell very long on the darker side of things. I had
already made the voyage from Genoa to Aden on board the
Preussen in the spring of 18S8, and the year that had since
elapsed had certainly not in any way detracted from the beauty
and comfort of her arrangements. Some little inconvenience
was caused by the presence on board of a large body of sailors
and marines going out to relieve our troops on the German
corvette Carola. But a set of better-behaved young fellows
could not have been met with anywhere, and I experienced
quite a thrill of patriotic pride when I saw how, in the Red
Sea, with the thermometer at 94° F. in the shade, drill was
gone through every day as usual, as if they were still in the
cool climate of Kiel or Wilhelmshaven.

In the second-class and steerage was a strange mixture
of odd characters, including a number of young men
going out to try their luck in East Africa from mere love
of adventure, and with the most incredibly absurd notions of
the country and its inhabitants. For the most part, they were
not long in finding their way home again.

In the hold were thousands of rounds of shell and shrapnel,
but alas ! not my ammunition.

We reached the barren, rocky coast of Aden within the
specified time — five days. Three days later we were to catch
the steamer of the Messageries Maritimes, which would
convey us direct to Zanzibar. I always dislike Aden, that
broiling, waterless eyrie among the rocks, with its atmosphere
of coal-dust and English ennui; and this time nothing
occurred to give me a better impression of it. Quite the
contrary. The Preussen had just steamed off in the direction
of Colombo, when Lloyd's agent came to inform me that a
quantity of Zanzibar cargo had by accident been left in the

30 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

hold, and among the rest our tents and bedsteads — in fact,
nearly all onr furniture. I telegraphed for them to be sent
back ; but five weeks was the shortest period in which they
could reach Zanzibar.

No arms and no tents ! It was a bad beginning ; but I
knew that in case of necessity I should be able to replace
a good many things in Zanzibar, and I therefore set about
the main business of my stay in Aden, the procuring of
eight Somal soldiers to accompany me. In this I met with
better success. On my way to Europe in the winter of
1888, I had commissioned my two faithful Somal, Ali and
Ahmed, to hold themselves in readiness with six trustworthy
comrades, for a new expedition in the following summer.
I had no sooner begun to make inquiries than I found
Ahmed with half a dozen of his fellow-countrymen all ready
to start. Ali meanwhile, grown weary of waiting for me,
had joined another party only a week or two before.

It is advisable to have a number of Somal in every
caravan, a judicious admixture of the foreign element being
necessary to maintain discipline. The Somdl, in their iso-
lated position as foreigners, do not as a rule make common
cause with the main body of the Swahili porters, but, recog-
nising that their welfare depends on that of their leader, they
make his interests their own. In other respects also they
best fulfil the requirements of the situation, for they are
distinguished by high courage, and their long and continued
intercourse with the English has given them a certain
familiarity with European ways, not to be found among
other East African races. In spite of many predictions to
the contrary, I have found the Somal the best personal ser-
vants, the best soldiers, and the best headmen of any. They
must, of course, be treated with due consideration ; allow-
ance must be made for their peculiarities of race, custom,

THE PASSENGERS. 31

and education ; and this is an art of which every one has
not the knack. In one respect, the Bantu negroes have the
advantage of the Somdl : they stand the tropical climate
better ; but what the latter lack in physique they make up
for a hundred times by their superior characteristics in other
respects.

The agreement with my men having been signed at the
German Consulate, we rowed out to the French steamer,
and were soon tossing on the Indian Ocean before the July
monsoon. The aspect of things on board the Mendoza was
highly remarkable. The prevailing German colonial char-
acter of the company was even more marked than on board
the Preussen. Among the passengers Germans were largely
in the majority. There were young clerks and merchants
returning from sick-leave in Europe ; officers of the native
regiments, some going out for the first time, others returning
from furlough ; officials of the East African and other Com-
panies ; red-cross volunteers for the troops, conspicuous every-
where with their badges on their arms ; a small number of
mechanics anxious to try their fortune in Zanzibar ; and last,
but not least, two Sisters of Mercy for the Zanzibar hospital.
What interchanges of good feeling and good-fellowship there
were ! What endless fine sentiments and fine speeches ; and
— what boundless ignorance of all things African !

The wrong which has been committed in the best inte-
rests of the colony by our early East African colonising agents
is no small one. Partly carried away by their tendency to
idealise, partly for the deliberate purpose of gaining a fol-
lowing and raising funds for colonial enterprise, many of
them have published the grossest misrepresentations of the
new colony ; and it will take much earnest work and cost
many bitter experiences before men can be brought to their
senses again, not only in East Africa, but in Europe. W^e

32 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

have yet to learn the golden mean between extreme optimism
on the one hand and extreme pessimism on the other. We
must teach ourselves to view our new possessions without
the aid of coloured spectacles, to see the country as it really
is, to distinguish between what is good and Avhat is bad,
and, putting the imaginary and the impossible on one side,
set ourselves steadily to utilise and turn to good account what
there is of real, sterling value.

After a six days' run we found ourselves off the palm-
fringed coast of the island of Pemba. Early next morning
we came in sight of what looked like a gigantic dash followed
by a point of exclamation — the island of Zanzibar with its
lighthouse at the north-west point. In a few seconds the
mail-flag fluttered gaily at the masthead, the signal, as we
could see through our glasses, being passed on from the
lighthouse to the still unseen town, where the hoisting of a
flag on the Sultan's tower intimates to the inhabitants the
approach of the eagerly expected European mail. For three
hours we steam along the low-lying coast, only a few hundred
yards from the dark palm-groves, among which nestle count-
less native huts and villages, with here and there the more
imposing front of a square Arab house.

The cuiTent in the Straits is against us, but the sea is
smooth as glass. During the last few days, as we have
gi'adually approached the equator, the mighty monsoon waves
of the Indian Ocean have sunk and dwindled, and the fresh,
free sea-breeze has fallen away. Yesterday it scarcely crisped
the surface of the water, and to-day all is smooth and flat and
grey, sea and sky alike, in the hot sweltering stillness of the
atmosphere of the tropics. Far to the east, faintly shimmer-
ing through the haze, may be descried the dim outline of a
lofty range of mountains — Africa, the mountains of Usam-
bara, scene of my last year's explorations and misfortunes !

I >

1 •

ZANZIBAR.

ZANZIBAR. 33

On board the steamer all has been bustle and confusion
since daybreak. The steam-crane rattles unceasingly as
boxes and bales emerge from the hold. The ropes are
loosened and the boats cleared ; and, arrayed in the snowy
whiteness of full tropical garb, the passengers take up their
position on deck, scanning the horizon with their glasses,
noting what is familiar with satisfaction, what is new with
interest.

By and by the masts and hulls of a variety of craft, large
and small, begin to dot the surface of the water, and at last,
to the left of these, appear points and streaks of dazzling
whiteness : it is the town of Zanzibar. High above the
surrounding houses rises the quaint tower of the Sultan's
palace, while beneath, the roads are crowded with shipping
— merchant-vessels and the Sultan's fleet, German, English,
Italian, and Portuguese men-of-war, the ungainly telegraph-
ship, and a host of smaller craft, conspicuous among which
are the curiously-rigged Arab dhows. Everj'thing seems to
indicate that we are approaching the most important town
in equatorial East Africa.

Slowly we make our way towards a large red buoy, to
which we are soon made fast by ropes. Immediately we are
surrounded by a swarm of small boats, containing an odd
medley of nationalities, negro, Indian, and European, the last
representing a number of commercial firms and the various
consuls. A constant interchange of friendly greetings is
kept up, and the ladder has no sooner been let down with a
rattle than there is an impatient scramble up the ship's side,
and then ensue a hand-shaking and confusion of tongues
which beggar all description.

My good friend Steifensand, the German Yice-Consul,
is one of the first on board, and I am only too glad to
accept his invitation to stay with him at the Consulate,

34 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

Avhither he has removed, and is conducting business in the
absence of the Consul-General. Half an hour later I am
exchanging news with my host in a cool airy room in the
commodious Arab building which is his home for the time
being.

In the evening a pleasant surprise awaited us. AVhile
we sat talking, two blacks came to offer their services in
my new undertaking. These proved to be the Somiil, Ali,
and the Pangani, Mwini Amani, both of whom had been
members of my former caravan, and had remained faithful
through all the mischances of the disastrous expedition of
the year before. I shall have much to say of them here-
after.

Nine months had elapsed since my last visit to Zanzibar.
As a rule, that is an interval scarcely long enough to produce
a marked change in the aspect of any town, and more espe-
cially of an Oriental town. But within the last few months
Zanzibar had experiencd no ordinary vicissitudes. The square
whitewashed houses, with their smooth walls, flat roofs, and
unglazed windows, were still the same. So, too, were the
narrow, shady lanes, full of villainous sights and smells, the
piles of ruins, the gigantic rubbish-heaps, and the confusion
of mud-built huts constituting the dwellings of the Indian
and negro portion of the community.

The life in the streets had likewise much the same aspect
as of old. The Arab still stalked along with the pride and
dignity of one who considers himself the undoubted lord of
Africa ; East Indians, their garb proclaiming their several
religious persuasions, Mohammedan, Buddhist, or Brahmin,
still formed the great proportion of the population after the
negroes ; and no change marked the bearing of the portly
Parsi, the long-haired Baluchi, or the pale Goanese, with his
downcast shifty eyes.

CHANGES AT ZANZIBAR. 35

It was among the great mass of the people, among the
SwahiU themselves — the men in their long white garments,
and the women with their flaunting attire and pert, forward
manners — that, within this brief period of less than a year,
a change, amounting almost to a revolution, had taken place.
In the streets they seemed intentionally bent on making
as much noise as possible. They no longer thought of
making way for the passing European, or of saluting him
with a respectful " Yambo ; " or, if they did, it was in a
jeering tone, and, in the case of a German, with some insult-
ing remark superadded. "Bagamoyo boom, boom," was a
cry in great vogue, the accent with which the imitative
phrase was pronounced containing a whole volume of native
criticism on the bombardment of Bagamoyo. The old negro
air of humility and respect was gone, and had given place to
impudence and swagger.

The cause of all this was not far to seek. At the begin-
ning of the war Zanzibar was overrun with all sorts of bad
characters from Europe and elsewhere, whose presence gave
rise to continual disturbances, and even fighting. Drunken
sailors from the war-ships of the different nations lying off
the coast, a host of adventurers desirous of joining the
troops under Wissmann, all the rag-tag and bobtail to be
found wherever chance seems to promise a short cut to
fortune, constantly made night hideous with their shouts of
revelry and thoughtless firing of guns. All these had now
disappeared, but the effects of their evil example were not so
easily effaced, and they were cleverly made capital of by the
anti-German faction, to foster among the populace the spirit
of ill-will to our countrymen. Serious disturbances were of
daily occurrence in one part or other of the town, and every
night we expected an organised outbreak under the then
Prince and present Sultan, Seyyid Ali, against us and our

36 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

supposed ally, the late Sultan, Seyyid Khalifa. It Avas an
anxious time.

In pleasing contrast to all this riot and disorder were the
evidences of German military discipline and the results of
the more kindly hand of charity. The crowd of officials had
disappeared, leaving only three or four representatives of the
East African Company for the collection of the customs. In
the same street as the German Consulate two large houses
were occupied by the Government officials and by the officers
commanding our native troops, while a third was set apart as
a military hospital under the management of the Sisters of
Mercy. The old hospital had been considerably enlarged and
improved, and was reserved for our sailors and the members
of the German colony. In both institutions courage, patience,
and good-will were the order of the day — virtues which, it
is devoutly to be wished, will one day be extended more
widely through the town and neighbourhood.

We had arrived in Zanzibar without arms and without
tents. Accordingly my first care was to set about trying
to supply our wants ; and as, under the conditions of the
blockade, all traffic in firearms was strictly prohibited, I was
obliged to make application to the commander of the com-
bined squadron, Rear-Admiral Fremantle. And here again
my letters of introduction from the British Government stood
me in good stead. The Admiral, who had thrown consider-
able difficulties in the way of Dr. Peters, because of the
suspected political nature of his expedition, not only autho-
rised me to buy what arms and ammunition I required, and
granted me permission to take my caravan through the
British Protectorate, but also offered the use of the British
gunboat Somali for the conveyance of my men and goods
to Mombaza.

I went to work with a will, and speedily purchased fifty

AN OLD FRIEND. 37

muzzle-loaders for my men, eight light breechloaders for the
Somäl, and a couple of double-barrelled rifles for ourselves,
along with the necessary ammunition. To my great delight
and astonishment, I managed to recover a repeating rifle
which I had carried with me to Kilimanjaro in 1887, and
again into the interior in 1888. There it was stolen from
me when I was made prisoner by Bushiri. Throughout the
insurrection, Bushiri, according to trustworthy accounts,
continued to use it himself ; but when the Germans
stormed his camp at Bagamoyo, the rifle again fell into
their hands, and being recognised as mine, was restored
to me on my arrival in Zanzibar. I took it with me on
this my third expedition, and again it rendered me excellent
service.

Having ordered a number of tents from a Goanese
sail-maker, and concluded an agreement with my old
caravan contractor, the well-known Indian, Siwa Haji,
for sixty Swahili porters, headmen, &c., I crossed over to
Bagamoyo in the small steamer Harmonie, to consult
the German Imperial Commissioner on certain important
points.

On board were a hundred Sudanese troops who had
fought for us at Tanga, and were now on their way back to
their quarters in Bagamoyo. They belonged to the regiments
which had been first levied, and were so badly provided in
the matter of uniforms, that, now they had seen some service,
they looked decidedly ragged. Their female belongings —
short of stature and with faces like the Eskimo — accom-
panied them, carrying the camp utensils and their share of
the plunder tied up in large bundles. All were remarkably
quiet and orderly.

A- four hours' passage beneath the blazing sun brought
us to the flat sandy shore of Bagamoyo, where I was

38 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

received by my friends Herr von Wissmann and Herr von
Zelewski, and later on, in the fort, had the pleasure of
shaking hands with Herr von Gravenreuth and Herr Bohn-
dorff, the whilom companion of Dr. Junker. Most of the
others were strangers to me, but all looked in remarkably
good health.

When I visited Bagamoyo two years before, it was the
most important and populous town on the whole Swahili
coast. The roads were crowded with shipping, and the
streets thronged with busy wayfarers. Now, a solitary
dhow lay at anchor off the shore, and on taking a walk
through the town, I saw nothing but the ruins of houses
recently shelled, and a few Indians plying their trades in
tumbledown booths. The native population had disappeared,
their place being taken by a few Wanyamwezi, who, at
the beginning of the war, had come to Bagamoyo from
the interior with ivoiy. They thereupon placed them-
selves under the protection of our troops, and by and by
became such warm admirers of military discipline, that
whenever they met a European they drew themselves up
and saluted.

In many places Arab and Wazeguha prisoners worked
together in irons. The town had been fortified with
trenches and a strong fence of barbed wire, the four open-
ings in which were guarded by the so-called " Zulus."
The Zulus are Watuta from the regions to the west of
Quilimane and Inhambane ; they constitute by far the best
portion of our native regiments. On every occasion they
have conducted themselves in the field with great braver}'' ;
and though the condition in which they keep their uniform
leaves much to be desired, that of their weapons is absolutely
faultless. They are paid at the rate of twenty rupees per
head per month.

FRENCH MISSIONARIES. 39

A further detachment of Watuta were stationed as a guard
on the road leading to the Kingani ferry, their quarters con-
sisting of a hastily constructed shed of corrugated iron, of
somewhat novel design. By means of walls and ramparts the
old palaver house had been transformed into a fort, in which
the Imperial Commissioner and his officers had taken up
their abode, along with a large contingent of Sudanese with
their women and children. The Watuta do not, like the
Sudanese, consider it necessary to take their women and
children with them in their undertakings — a circumstance
which, from a military standpoint, establishes a decided pre-
ference in their favour.

The position of the fort had been further strengthened by
cutting down all the coco-palms in the vicinity to a distance
of three or four hundred yards, while four bastions defended
with field-artillery commanded the surrounding country in all
directions.

The French mission station, on the north side of the town,
showed no signs of having been fortified. Here I had the
pleasure of once more meeting my old friends Father Etienne
and Brother Oscar. Throughout the war these missionaries
had remained at their post unmolested, and they now pointed
with pride to the remains of huts and the fragments of dis-
carded household goods which lay scattered all around, as
evidences that over six thousand people had received shelter
and succour at their hands. It is greatly to Bushiri's credit
that, while he treated as enemies the missionary representa-
tives of the two European powers concerned in the blockade,
he exempted the neutral French missionaries from all attack
or annoyance.

The Imperial Commissioner having kindly supplied me
with a spare military tent and a quantity of camp utensils,
I continued my way to Dar-es-Salaam. Here the streets

40 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

were laid in ruins, and only a scanty sprinkling of Indians
and Greeks were to be seen in the vicinity of the strongly
fortified citadel. Having visited the German mission station,
which I found completely riddled with shot, I laid a few
twigs of laurel at the foot of the tall mango trees which
mark the graves of our brave naval officers, Wolf and Land-
fermann. The next day I returned to Zanzibar.

Of Bushiri I could learn nothing, except that after the
defeat at Mpwapwa he had withdrawn towards the north,
presumably with the intention of uniting with the Usam-
bara chief, Simboja, in Mazindi. I could not help think-
ing he had designs on me a second time, for Mazindi lies
directly on the Pangani route to Kilimanjaro. My ransom
of the year 1888 must have been of considerable service
to him.

Meanwhile I did not allow the thought of possibilities
of evil to disturb me. All the preliminary difficulties which
had threatened to swamp the expedition at the very outset
had now been successfully overcome, and I proceeded to lay
in a supply of the necessary articles of barter. In this
respect every district in East Africa has its own particular
" currency." Thus, to pay one's w^ay to Kilimanjaro, the
chief requisite is a good supply of fairly strong cotton cloth,
white, crimson, and dark blue in colour, with beads for small
change. Of the latter, different kinds are required for dif-
ferent places. Thus, in Taita and Taveta, they must be
of medium size, and either crimson, or dark blue, or white ;
in Jagga, they must be extremely small, and pink or light
blue ; while in Ugweno, Kahe, and the Masai country, all
beads must be dark blue and in strings. Iron and brass
wire, of the thickness of telegraph wire, is also in demand,
but it is not absolutely necessary, and all other articles of
merchandise are almost worthless. You might just as well

PREPARATIONS FOR THE START. 41

try to palm off Portuguese money on a German shopkeeper
as hope to effect a purchase in Taveta with yellow beads or
green woollen cloth. The coinage current at the coast —
dollars, rupees, and copper small coins — ceases to be of use
three days inland from Mombaza, though on the Pangani
caravan route it is valid as far as Mazindi.

It goes without saying that in addition to the currency
above described all sorts of showy and useful articles are
eagerly accepted as presents, though their exchange value
is nil. I therefore took with me a miscellaneous collection
of watches, musical -boxes, small telephones, model steam-
engines, many-bladed knives, masks, uniforms, and so forth.
These I distributed among the various chiefs and headmen
along my route, and seldom found them fail to have the
desired effect.

It was not long before I had the satisfaction of seeing
all my goods made up into the customary loads — each sixty
pounds weight — and packed in matting or tin cases. Our
stores included a dozen loads of rice for the men, for, as
hardly any crops can be raised throughout the whole region
between the coast and Taita, sufficient food is not to be
obtained on the road. Siwa Haji being likewise ready with
the stipulated number of porters, the contract, with the names
of all the members of the expedition appended, was registered
at the Sultan's — a precaution demanded by law, to ensure
that no slave had enrolled himself without the consent of
his master. Two days later the expedition went on board
H.B.M.'s gunboat Somali, the use of which, as already
stated, had been kindly promised to me by Admiral Fre-
mantle, and in the afternoon of September 3rd we set
sail from Zanzibar amid a chorus of friendly farewells and
cheers.

Early next morning we delivered a bag of letters to a

42 TO THE SWAHILI COAST.

British man-of-war lying off the coast of Pemha on the look-
out for Arab slave-dhows, and at sunset of the same day we
ran into the creek, the steep palm-clad shores of which
surround the island and town of Mombaza. The same
evening I received a visit from Mr. Buchanan, the repre-
sentative of the British East African Company, who had
been made aware beforehand of my coming. He kindly
came to inform me that a sufficient number of boats Avould
be ready at sunrise to convey my whole caravan without
loss of time up the creek to Bandarini, the landing-place
for our mission station of Babai. He was as good as his
word, and under the convoy of the Somali I saw my
men pull off in four large boats. I myself followed them
some hours later, after having breakfasted with Mr. Buch-
anan, in conversation with whom I became very strongly
impressed with the idea that in the exploiting of British
East Africa there would be no lack of intelligence, energy,
or — capital.

In the afternoon we reached the lonely landing-place of
Bandarin, now, as two years ago, our first camping-ground on
African soil. The tents having been pitched, the men broke
up into small " messes " of five or six, and disposed them-
selves around the fires to await the cooking of the evening
meal. The aristocrats of the caravan, the Somal, gathered
into a little knot by themselves beside the piled up baggage,
and busied themselves with the burnishing of their weapons.
It was Africa once more — the red arid soil, the dry thorny
bush, the parched grey-green grass, the pure dry air, the
cooing doves and chirping cycadae of our promised land of
travel and adventure. Once more I was in the midst of the
familiar hum and bustle of the free caravan life ; once more I
breathed the old " bouquet cVAfrique" compounded of heaven
knows what subtle odours gleaned from earth and air and

THE "BOUQUET D'AFRIQUE."

flower, from the curling smoke of the wood-fire, from the
very people even — and never to be forgotten by one who
has once lived in it, laboured in it, and so at last grown
to love it.

Success to the new venture !

STREET SCENE AT MOMBAZA.

CHAPTER IT.

MOMBAZA TO TAVETA.

The first few days of a journey into the
interior of East Africa are as a rule the
most trying period of the whole expedi-
tion. The traveller's natural delight in the
new and grander aspects of Nature, in
the free unconventional life, and
the deeply interesting scientific
facts that meet his eye on all
sides, is spoilt at every turn,
and his impressions weakened
and be-littled, by the constant
worry arising from the want of
discipline among the as yet un-
ruly porters, and by their un-
ceasing attempts to desert. Their
superfluous energy finds vent in
wild shoutings and dancings,
which they keep up as long as
lungs and limbs hold out. . By degrees, the
continuous marching, frequently accompanied
as it is by want of water, begins to tell, and
their exuberant spirits tone down of themselves ; but at first,
while the traveller is still ignorant of the characters with
which he has to deal, he neither knows which is the best way

SWAHILI PORTERS.

HOW TO MAINTAIN DISCIPLINE. 45

to quell the unruly or how to foster the influence of the better
disposed. To begin by drawing the rein tightly engenders
forebodings for the future, which find a present and practical
outcome in incessant attempts at desertion so long as there is
time and opportunity ; and in this instance, owing to the war,
circumstances were only too favourable to misdemeanours of
this kind. On the other hand, too great a display of leniency
is sure to result in eventual loss of authority, and the porters
are apt to take French leave soon after they have received
the usual advance-money.

The preservation of the golden mean is accordingly very
diflicult, if not indeed impossible, and many a time I have
been compelled at first to let things pass which later on
would have met with summary punishment, consoling myself
meanwhile with the thought of a future day of reckoning.
This policy early gained for me among the men the reputa-
tion of being mema sana (very nice), a flattering estimate
of my character which gradually changed, as I tightened
my hand, to the opinion that I was very mkali (strict). I
may, however, congratulate myself on having been fairly
successful, for while deserters were leaving other caravans
in dozens, I arrived at Taveta having lost only three, and
these doubtful characters, of whose evil propensities I had
already been warned at Mombaza. Before we were half-
way to Kilimanjaro, the discipline of the caravan was as
perfect as could be desired, the soldiers and porters obedient,
the marching order exemplary, and the success of the expedi-
tion in this respect assured.

As the caravan leaves camp, let us hold a review and
march-past of its various members, on whose qualities and
capabilities so much depends.

After us Europeans, the two Swahili headmen and the
Somdl bodyguard rank first ; the latter claiming our foremost

46 MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

consideration on account of their superior characteristics.
Their leader is the before-mentioned Ali, aged twenty-six, one
of the members of my Mombaza expedition in iS88. In the
affair at Pangani he was stripped of everything by Bushiri's
slaves and turned adrift to find his way to the coast as best
he might. He has great influence with his comrades, is in-
telligent and energetic in no common degree, and on various
occasions has shown himself so trustworthy that I have
appointed him to the general superintendence of the treasury
and commissariat, subject, of course, to my own control.
Of frank, prepossessing countenance and genial tempera-
ment, he is perhaps a little too much addicted to gossip ;
but he is staunch as a bulldog to his master's interests, and
is respected accordingly by the rest of the caravan, to whom
he is known as Bwana Ali. He has a remarkable talent for
languages, speaking English, Arabic, Hindustani, and Ki-
Swahili in addition to his native tongue.

xlfter A\\ comes Ahmed, the brave. He, too, is between
twenty and thirty, was with me at the Pangani affair, and is
my special favourite on account of his many exceptional
qualities. The very embodiment of obligingness and readi-
ness, whatever Ahmed does he does well, and — a remarkable
thing for a negro — whenever he sees anything that ought to be
done, he does it conscientiously without requiring to be told.
He was the only man in the whole caravan with whom I never
once had to find fault. Ahmed was my right hand in every-
thing (and I had need of an extra one), and as, unfortunately
for himself, he knew a little of both English and Ki-Swahili,
he was constantly in demand. "Ahmed, where is this?"
"Ahmed, what did you do with that?" was the cry from
morning till night. On the march he was my aide-de-camp
and gun-bearer, and walked immediately behind me ; in camp
he was my chamberlain, my valet, my butler, and general

MEMBERS OF THE CARAVAN. 47

factotum. The men praised Ali "with the lips, Ahmed with
the heart. He was heloved by all.

Third on the list comes Mohammed Ali, better known as
Arali, an insignificant-looking little fellow of thirty or there-
abouts, shy and retiring as a rule, but brave and pertinacious
enough on occasion. He had been Count Teleki's "boy"
for two years on the Samburu expedition, and had a wide
experience of the natives. To him therefore is intrusted
the arduous task of doling out to the porters their weekly
supply of goods for the purchase of provisions, as well as of
catering for the Europeans and Somal. He did his duty
admirably.

Of the remaining Somal, Mohammed, the lean and active,
is the best ; Bulhan, the slow and taciturn, the worst. Jama
Seif, the cook, has seen service with the redcoats at Aden,
and is a great worthy, though not exactly a Soy er in the
exercise of his calling.

Close in the wake of the Somal, with whom he claims
equality of birth, comes Mwini Amani, aged twenty-eight,
a native of Pangani. He, too, shared the joys and sorrows
of my former expedition, of which he was a most useful
member, and along with Dr. Fischer and in various Arab
caravans has traversed the whole of East Africa as far as
Uganda, familiarising himself with the dialects and making
friends everywhere. He acts as our guide, and always marches
at the head of the caravan carrying the flag. Thanks to his
iron constitution and great powers of endurance, he alone
of all his companions w^as able to bear the hardships of
our three weeks' sojourn on Kilimanjaro, at a height of
over 13,000 feet. But perhaps his best quality is the im-
perturbable good-humour with which he accepts everything
as it comes and makes the best of it. The one point on
which he is touchy is the subject of his birth, a somewhat

48 MOMBAZA TO TAVETA.

unusual weakness for a Swahili. He is inordinately proud
of being a freeman like the Somal — a " black gentleman,"
he calls himself — and always insists on being treated as such
by his comrades.

Far above him in rank, but a long way behind him in
worth, is the Swahili leader or headman, xlbedi, a native of
Zanzibar. As a slave of the influential Wadi Nasibu, himself
a slave of the Sultan, he has great influence with the Zanzibar
men, but is otherwise unpopular. Ugly, lazy, insolent, cowardly,
weak, dishonest, untruthful, he is a typical Zanzibar!. Never-
theless I tolerate him, for he is personally responsible to Siwa
Haji for the behaviour of the rest of the caravan.

Better, but not much better, is the second headman,
Hailallah, an Arab slave, also from Zanzibar, and the greatest
tattler, mischief-maker, toad-eater, and toper going. Both he
and Abedi owe their position solely to the fact that from
among their large circle of acquaintances in their native town
they could easily and quickly get together a sufficient number
of porters for the undertaking. On the journey they generally
sided with the men against me, and had it not been for my
faithful Somal, I should sometimes have been hard put
to it.

Of the rank and file of the caravan, the Askari and
Wapagazi, or soldiers and porters, it remains only to mention
Ben Juma, our untiring choir-leader ; Mbassa, the wit of the
party ; and the easy-going, contented Wanyamwezi. As for the
rest, they were a very indifi"erent lot, constantly in need of the
whip to bring them to their senses. Their physical perform-
ances were something wonderful, however, and would do credit
to any respectable beast of burden, to which indeed, in many
respects, they bear a striking resemblance. " Pagazi like
donkey ; much food, much go," says Ahmed in his pigeon
English, and it is true ; for if your porter can but once a day

ON THE MARCH. 49

have his fill of rice, beans, or millet, he is fully equal to a
tramp of five or six hours in the blazing sun, carrying, in
addition to his load of sixty or sixty-five pounds, his gun and
ammunition, a cooking-pot, a sleeping-mat, a water-calabash,
and a number of other " unconsidered trifles." In order to
get along with him it is above all things necessary to be
able to talk to him in Ki-Swahili, and the language,
fortunately, is so simple, that with a little trouble one may
pick up in a couple of months quite as much as is required
for the ordinary and somewhat limited topics of caravan life.
After the trying experiences incident to my first journey, I
thank the Lord that I was now no more exposed to the mis-
understandings and misrepresentations of an interpreter.

On the march the same routine is gone through day after
day and week after week. At the first streak of dawn I awake
and call Ali, the captain of my Somal. Immediately the camp
begins to show signs of animation. " OndoTca,funga mkeka"
(Get up, fold up your mats !) cry the headmen. Yawning,
and still half asleep, the men bestir themselves, crawl out of
their cosy rugs, in which they have passed the night on the
ground, gird up their loin-cloths, and begin to drag their
loads from the stack in which they have been piled over-
night. The Somal and Askari set to work to strike the tents
and pack the beds and other furniture, keeping time to a
rhythmic chant the while. Meantime our cook brings us a
cup of steaming cocoa, which we drink standing, and snatch
a morsel of cold meat. " Tayari ? " (ready ?) I inquire of
the headman. " Tayari " (ready) is the reply. Having
noted the time and the readings of my thermometer and
barometer, I give the word to start, " Hay a ! " and the
caravan falls into marching order.

At the head marches Mwini Amani, carrying the German
flag, and with him the native leader of the caravan, if such

50 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

there be. With the very first step begins the troublesome
task of plotting the route. At every slight change of direc-
tion I consult my watch and my compass, and carefully make
a note of the readings. At every perceptible change of level
I do the same by the aneroid. If any considerable hill or
mountain comes in sight I take its bearings by the prismatic
compass, and the result is likewise recorded in my field-book.
Thus ever}^ two or three minutes some observation has to be
made, not to speak of the bearings that are taken without
making a halt. I never have my instruments out of my hand
until we are in camp again.

Immediately behind me marches Ahmed, canying my
rifle, for the van of the procession is the best place for a stray
shot at guinea-fowl or antelopes, and fresh meat is always
a welcome addition to our bill of fare. Hunting, in the
proper sense of the term, is of course out of the question
while we are on the march.

Behind Ahmed, and headed by the circumspect Wanyam-
wezi, come the main body of the porters, as close as may be
on each other's heels. The Somal follow, and after them
their headmen, Herr Purtscheller bringing up the rear. All
march in single file, for the so-called great caravan route is
only a narrow pathway after all, in which two cannot walk
abreast. On my former expeditions I took with me one
or two Muscat donkeys in case of serious illness ; but I
never myself made any use of them, and this time I dis-
pensed with them altogether. I ascribe the almost perfect
health I have always enjoyed in Africa to the fact that I have
made every step of my journeys on foot, the constant exercise
keeping my bodily organs in good order.

For two hours we hold steadily on amid a running fire
of laughter, jokes, and shouts. Then the gradual lengthen-
ing of the file shows it is time to call a halt. I pause

A MIDDAY HALT. 51

under the shade of a tree, and while the stragglers close
up, and loads are shifted and fastenings seen to, I take
the bearings of conspicuous points in the neighbourhood, and
if the occasion be opportune, perhaps one or two photographs.
In twenty minutes or half-an-hour we are once more on the
march, the stillness now unbroken save for an occasional
shout— " Shimo ! " " Mawe ! " " Miti ! " " Mwiba ! " "Nyoka!"
" Siafu ! " whereby the unwary porter is warned that a hole,
a stone, a stump, a thorn, a snake, or a colony of ants
threatens his shoeless feet. In an hour and a half we stop
to rest a second time, after which, as the porters gradually
get more and more exhausted, it becomes necessary to halt
at least once ever}^ hour.

As a rule, we reach camp before midday, availing our-
selves of one of the spots habitually frequented by the
caravans which have trodden this route from time imme-
morial, and w^iich have invariably been selected on account
of their proximity to one of the rock-reservoirs peculiar to
the region. Tents are pitched, and the Somal proceed to
stack the baggage, keeping it off the ground by means of a
layer of branches or stones, and covering it with a tarpaulin.
The men gather grass and branches to make sleeping-sheds,
while I, in the sweltering heat, set about taking the midday
observation with my theodolite, Herr Purtscheller assisting
by reading off the time. Before I have finished, the cook
has made ready a light luncheon, which we partake of
with due relish, in the consciousness of " something accom-
plished, something done." My inner man thus fortified, I
light my pipe and proceed to make a rough map of the
road we have traversed, while Herr Purtscheller scours
the neighbourhood in search of botanical and geological
specimens. The men prepare their food, mend their torn
clothing, eat, laugh, and sleep. A few, and notably a squint-

52 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

eyed individual, by name Ilassani, make a parade of their
piety, and hasten to repeat their prayers in the eyes of all
men, in season and out of season.

My map finished, I set out, accompanied by a Somali
carrying my camera, in search of prey or pictures, whichever
may come handiest. I am not at all afraid of losing myself,
or of being carried away by the excitement of the chase ; for,
to my shame as a Nimrod be it said, I have no enthusiasm for
sport for its own sake, but only as a means towards gaining
a more intimate knowledge of nature and nature's ways.
I take no pleasure in the mere stalking or hunting of any
creature, with the hope of getting a shot at it in the end ;
and were it not for the necessity of supplying the pot, I
should at all times be willing to lay aside my rifle and give
myself up to the observation of the animal's habits as it
disports itself in its native haunts.

On my return to camp it behoves me to mount the
judge's chair, and to mete out condign punishment to evil-
doers at the hands of the Somal, ten to twenty lashes being
the quantum for ordinary offences. Herr Purtscheller per-
forms the duties of doctor, and dispenses to his numerous
patients suitable medicaments for the blisters, ulcers, thorn-
pricks, and abrasions to which the flesh of the Swahili porter
is heir.

Meantime the sun approaches the western horizon, and
Ahmed and Mohammed have brought out the dinner-table
and covered it with a snowy white cloth. Our indiarubber
bath stands ready inside the tent, and after a refreshing
plunge we sit down to dinner, prepared to do justice to
the meal with the true explorer's appetite.

In conversing with friends in Europe, I usually find that
they have the most absurd ideas on the subject of a travel-
ler's ordinary fare, the tendency, as a rule, being to make

A TRAVELLER'S BILL OF FARE. 53

it as scanty and unpalatable as possible. It does sometimes
happen, in exceptional circumstances, that one is obliged to
substitute for supper a tightening of the belt, but on the
whole the traveller is himself to blame if his supplies run
low and he is reduced to starvation. The native foods do
not offer much variety, though they differ widely in different
districts ; but if the traveller is not too dainty and is pre-
pared to make the best of what is to be had, it is wonderful
what can be done. A great deal depends on how far he is
willing and able to give directions to the cook for preparing
native products in European ways — if he can occasionally
lend a helping hand, so much the better. I made a point of
taking with me from Europe or Zanzibar, in large quantities,
only cocoa, tea, salt, and rice, with a small supply of acetic acid,
pepper, and saccharine, which last I used instead of sugar. I
had no tinned meats of any kind, with the exception of three
cases of corned beef, to be reserved for an emergency. Our
wine-cellar consisted of two bottles of claret, two of brandy,
and two of port. The claret we disposed of at an early date,
the brandy among the snows of Kilimanjaro. One of the
bottles of port, to the intense astonishment of our friends, we
brought back with us to Zanzibar. Our daily drink was water,
with a few drops of citric or acetic acid, and on the march
very weak cold tea. That our bill of fare did not lack variety,
let the following examples bear witness. Game-soup and
guinea-fowl with rice, or rice-soup and antelope steak with
wild spinage, or wild tomato-soup and roast zebra — all these,
washed down with the unfailing cup of tea, were among the
items included in the ordinary cai'te in uninhabited regions.
In populous districts we had a yet more tempting selec-
tion. Broth and ox-tongue, roast beef with fresh vegetables,
banana fritters and honey ; or milk-soup, mutton cutlets and
tomatoes, rice, bananas, and roast millet ; or egg-soup, stewed

54 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

fowl and sweet potatoes, with melons and other fruit by way
of dessert — all these from time to time rejoiced the palate
and made glad the heart at the close of a hard day's work.

After dinner the pipe is produced again, and we sit
down to write up our diaries by the light of the lamp.
Then we relax, and for an hour or so give ourselves up to
idleness and the enjoyment of one another's society. By
eight o'clock the camp is still and silent, and, cosily wrapped
in our woollen blankets, we too stretch ourselves on our
cork mattresses, to sleep soundly through the cool hours of
the night. Borne from the distant plains, the deep roar of
the lion, the hoarse bark of the leopard, and the eerie laugh
of the hyena, is our weird but unheeded lullaby, until once
more we are awakened at the first streak of dawn by the
twittering of early song-birds, and rise refreshed and ready for
whatever the day may have in store for us.

We left the coast on the morning of September 6th. Each
man having been furnished with a gun, the long column
began to wind over the undulating ground, which, gradually
rising, culminates at last in the plateau on whose edge
stands the Rabai Mission. Here the vegetation still feels
the influence of the moist sea-breeze, and ridges and hol-
lows alike are covered wdth verdant forest. A little way
below Eabai we pass a plantation of coco-palms ; beside
it is a small station of the Imperial British East Africa
Company, the first of the long line planned to extend to
the Victoria Nyanza, by way of Taita, Ukamba, Lake Baringo,
and Kavirondo.

At Rabai we were most kindly received by Mr. and Mrs.
Burness, of the Church Missionary Society, and with them
we spent a very pleasant hour. Having secured the services
of a couple of mission boys and ten porters to cany rice,

^-■■■*

AN EAST AFRICAN STEPPE.

THE EAST AFRICAN WILDERNESS. 55

we here bade farewell to things European and civilised, and
commenced our journey towards the tree-studded plateau
inland. The heavy showers of the past few days, which pro-
claimed the approach of the rainy season, had been general
all over the region, and had already filled the rock-reservoirs
on which we had to depend for our supply of water. Under
their fostering influence the vegetation had begun to awake
from its long sleep, and already showed signs of returning
life and vigour.

The whole of the plateau country has the appearance of
an arid, wooded wilderness, in which evergreens mingle with
deciduous forms. The stiff clay soil is overgrown with coarse
grasses, or with low perennial herbs. Towards the coast the
trees grow tolerably close together, though they do not attain
any considerable height, as they do among the mountains
or along the banks of rivers. The trunks are short, the bark
cracked, the branches gnarled, and in many instances withered.
Impenetrable thickets of succulent shrubs form islands and
belts everywhere in the open woods. As the coast zone is
left behind and the inland regions approached, the vegetation
assumes more and more such forms as, by their scanty array
of leaves, present the smallest surface for the evaporation of
moisture. In the vicinity of Taro, only three days' march
from the sea, the evergreen forms begin to disappear, and
thorny species become the most prominent. Towards the
Maungu Mountains the open woods give place to a dense
" hawthorn scrub," and on the farther side of the range the
traveller suddenly enters the steppe-land. At first the unifor-
mity is varied by occasional patches of thorn and bush ; but
beyond the mountains of Taita the boundless wilderness
stretches away in dreary monotony.

The tract of country here briefly described is botanically
divided into four regions corresponding to the climatic and

56 MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

geological conditions, and to the prevailing abundance or
scarcity of water. As far as Taro, water is to be found in
pools and in the natural rock-reservoirs even in the dry season ;
between Taro and Maungu, Maungu and Ndara, and again
between Taita and Taveta, there is absolutely none ; while on
the heights of Maungu and on the western slopes of Ndara
rain-water again occurs in natural reservoirs, and in Taita
itself there are two running streams. In the rainy season
water is also to be had in small pools close to Maungu and
between Taita and Taveta.

In countries like east Central Africa, where the plains
stretch for miles and miles unbroken by hills or ridges, the
physiognomy of the landscape is determined almost entirely
by the character of the vegetation. But the character of the
vegetation itself depends less on the forms assumed by the
organs of reproduction — the flowers and fruit — than on the
appearance and arrangement of the organs of nutrition — the
branches and leaves. This fact was strikingly illustrated in
the present instance, when the period of growth and blossom
had just begun. It mattered little whether the flowers were
large or small, white or coloured, glowing in tropical abund-
ance or altogether absent — the character of the landscape
was but little affected. Leafless trees and bushes prevailed
everywhere, their generally forbidding aspect plainly telling
of a fierce struggle for existence under the greatest extremes
of climate, and giving the impression that only a few species
are represented as in the oak and beech forests of more
temperate regions.

But the stem and branches are the mere vegetable skeleton,
the leaves are the body. And here, in this desert region,
either the leaves are all bipinnate, so as to present the
smallest possible surface for evaporation, or they develop a
tough, glossy cuticle, to prevent injury through excessive

THE EAST AFRICAN FLORA. 57

transpiration. The Avoods are composed chiefly of tall ever-
greens — mimosse, tamarinds, and olives — and of deciduous
trees, such as banyans, sycamores, and willows. Dwarf palms
and low oshur and sodada shrubs, epiphytic orchids, cane
and prairie grasses, with numerous tuberous and bulbous
species, find their place nearer the ground. Where there are
no trees these lower members of the vegetable kingdom
mingle inextricably with euphorbias, cucurbitacete, bulbous-
stemmed testudinarise and aloes, and form impenetrable
thickets.

Protection against evaporation has been Nature's primary
consideration in the organisation of each and all of these
plants, for the drought to which they are subjected lasts for
months at a time. In the attainment of this object she
displays a wonderful fertility of resource. Certain species,
like the mimosse, the banyans, and the sycamores, she has,
as already said, provided with pinnate or thick glossy leaves,
which at the commencement of the dry season drop away,
having duly fulfilled their nutritive function ; in others the
leaves are evergreen, but abnormally tough ; and most are
covered with an armour of thorns over stem and branch and
twig alike. In some cases the thorns take the place of leaves
altogether. The succulent plants are clothed as it were in
mail, which prevents the evaporation of the sap, and in plants
of the grass and onion tribe a store of moisture is laid up
in the underground tubers and bulbs.

When I passed through this region two years ago in the
month of July — that is to say, in the height of the dry season
— the landscape was painted in a dull grey monotone. On
the present journey the colouring was not much more lively,
for the young leaves had a grey or bluish sheen, and dead
grasses, branches, and tree-trunks were visible everywhere,
except in places where they had been destroyed by fire or

58 MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

consumed by white ants. Nevertheless the breath of spring
had passed over the land. Many of the plants were pushing
out their young leaves, while others, and those the majority,
like our own alders, hazels, willows, and fruit-trees, were
crowned with a wealth of blossom while as yet their leaves
were still in bud. This phenomenon is not so much to be
wondered at among the trees of temperate climates, where the
rays of the spring sun affect the more delicate outer envelopes
of the flowers more quickly than those of the leaves ; but
it is difficult to account for in equatorial climes, where the
stimulus derived from light and heat remains tolerably equal
throughout the year. The explanation seems to be in some
way connected with the necessity which exists that fertilisation
should have taken place before the pollen is spoiled by the
heavy rains.

The various lilies and orchids follow the example of the
plants we have just been describing; but the grasses first
produce leaves, and the succulent species new shoots. In
these last, the tubers have supplied a continuous store
of moisture throughout the whole of the dry season, and
thus, the plants are in a position to utilise at once, for the
purposes of growth, the surplus nourishment supplied by
the rains.

On the edge of the coast terrace the lofty borassus palm
is still to be met with, the last representative of a richer
and more prodigal flora. After that the palm disappears
altogether, and does not occur again until it is represented
among the mountains of Taita and on Kilimanjaro, by new
species.

Our first day's march was brought to a close at midday
by the side of the Moaje stream, at a spot where, two
years before, I had pitched my first camp when travelling

CAUGHT IN THE ACT. 59

with Herr von Eberstein. The little stream had dwindled to
a few puddles, but our tents were beautifully shaded by two
large leafy mango-trees, in all probability sprung from chance
kernels thrown away by some passing coast porter, which had
found a congenial habitat close to the Avater's edge. As a
matter of course I had to listen to a good deal of grumbling
on the part of the men ; the first day usually ends in numerous
little alterations and redistributions of loads. I soon put a
stop to all rebellious tendencies, however, by taking posses-
sion of the guns — a precaution nearly always necessary to
prevent desertion — and for the most part the men spent
the evening dancing and singing in the moonlight as if
possessed.

On stepping out of my tent in the early dewy morning,
the first thing I saw was two of the Eabai Mission boys
stealing quietly out of camp. Although the rice they had
carried had already been used up, as a matter of principle I
just as quietly sent three Somal after them and had them
brought back. As a punishment they were condemned to
carry the w^ater for the whole caravan in the old petroleum-
tins I had bought for that purpose in Mombaza.

The guinea-fowd in the bushes on the margin of the
stream were clucking lustily as we prepared to strike camp,
and soon Ali appeared carrying two plump specimens for the
pot. Once more we plunged into the dull grey-green wilder-
ness of bush and trees which hemmed us in on both sides,
making any view of the surrounding country wholly impossible.
Except the path, and an occasional scrap of cloth fluttering
from the prickles of a wait-a-bit thorn, nothing remained to
tell of travellers who had preceded us. Small game, such as
we usually come across in our own forests, there is here
apparently none, and the larger kinds shun the thickets,
where uuknoAvn dangers await them, and seek the more open

6o MOM BAZA TO T A VET A.

steppe-land. The birds, too, are inaudible and invisible, for
it is only in pairing-time, which occurs during the rainy
season, that they are to be heard calling to their mates.
Then, also, the insects awake to life, but at present they are
represented solely by huge millepeds. As yet we have only
reached the period of the preliminaiy or early rains. These
are very irregular. Yesterday there was a heavy fall at four
in the morning, and to-day there was a succession of sharp
showers between eleven and twelve.

Drenched to the skin, we reached the Magunga rivulet,
and camped beneath a sycamore-tree. Like the Moaje, this
stream consisted of a series of pools, and the water had a
strong taste of alum. The spot was made memorable to me
by the fact that here two years ago five porters managed to
make good their escape with a quantity of our most valuable
effects — maps, field-glasses, woollen clothing, and the like.
This time too it looked as if things were coming to a crisis,
and when I again took possession of the guns I was greeted
with very black looks from certain members of the caravan,
who, I could see, had evidently been meditating flight. A
deputation waited on me to request that I would restore the
arms and ammunition forthwith, and not expose my men to
personal risk in "this hostile neighbourhood." In a well-
directed speech I turned their pretended fears to ridicule, and
succeeded in getting the laughter on my side. All night I
made the Somal keep a sharp look-out, however, and several
times before morning I took a turn round the camp myself.

With every step of our march inland the landscape grows
more and more dreary. The early rains have as yet failed
to make any impression on the district we have now reached,
and the frequent patches of burned-up grass add to the
general air of desolation. Here and there an ant-hill reveals
the true red or yellowish-brown colour of the porous laterite.

DESERTERS. 6i

Elsewhere the soil consists of a jellowisli sand, overlying
breccia-like reddish-grey sandstones, which show that we have
left behind us the clay slate formations, and entered upon
the narrow belt of carboniferous sandstones.

The day was terribly hot, and the men groaned audibly,
but took heart again and went on right gallantly as they
joined in the succession of spirited songs kept up by the
AVanyamwezi in the van. At Gore the water-holes proved
to be dried up, but in Samburu the reservoirs contained an
abundant supply of what by courtesy was termed water, though
in reality it was not much better than liquid mud. On our
getting into camp some Wa-Duruma — as the natives from the
villages hidden away in the surrounding jungle are called —
came to offer goats and cattle for sale. I was only too de-
lighted to seize the opportunity, and by way of magnet to
draw my men onward purchased a fine ox to take with us to
our next halting-place.

Although, that night, we Europeans shared the watch
with the Somal, three porters managed to desert, but without
goods or arms. They were the three of whom I had all along
been suspicious, and I did not trouble myself much about
them, feeling now secure of all the others. Moreover, we
had reached the last inhabited spot before entering on the
Taita wilderness, and those who had not hitherto attempted
to escape might well be looked upon as willing followers.
Then, too, had they not the immediate prospect of a plentiful
banquet of ox- flesh ?

Meanwhile, to drive the obstinate brute along the narrow
path, scarcely wide enough for a loaded porter, was no easy
matter. It was taken in hand by Mwini Amani and Arali,
but the two fell out over something, and ended by coming
to blows.

An hoiu''s march brought us to the last of the Samburu

62 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

villages, around which the natives were busy clearing the
ground, preparatory to sowing the grain in the coming rainy
season. Rain-water was abundant in the numerous rock-
reservoirs, here called tigurungas. The surface at this point
begins to rise considerably, and culminates at last in the
rounded hill of Taro, the last watering-place on the route
until we reach Mauugu. Here we camped at midday, and I
was able to determine our position astronomically.

In the afternoon I left the porters to quarrel over the
division of the ox, and set off to prospect the neighbourhood
and have a closer look at the numerous ngiirungas. These
natural reservoirs, on which throughout the whole of east
Central Africa man and beast alike mainly depend for the
supply of water, are accounted for by other travellers on
the theory that they have been gradually formed by the
hand of man scooping out the water and mud contained
in what were at first slight natural depressions in the rock.
My investigations at Taro have led me to quite another con-
clusion. The sandstone here lies exposed in rounded blocks
and ridges, which split superficially into foliated layers. In
these, in the course of weathering, numerous round holes
are worn, both in the upper surface and in the sides, so that
the rock looks as if it were pock-pitted. Holes, of all sizes
occur together in the same block, but small holes predomi-
nate. The fact that the holes are to be found in the face of
the blocks — that is to say, in a horizontal direction — suffi-
ciently controverts the idea of the artificial origin of the
ngurungaSy for in these latter no water could collect to attract
the attention of passing travellers. With the vertical holes
it is different. If you put your finger into one of the smaller
of these, you will find that it expands below like an inverted
funnel, and contains a quantity of water. From this I am led
to believe that the hole having originally arisen from the lami-

<Sj

THE N GURU KG AS. 6^,

nated structure of the rock, which seems peculiarly to favour
the formation of these holes, the process of deepening and
widening has been carried on by the chemical action of the
water which lodges in it. Owing to the peculiar shape of the
tiny reservoir the Avater is not so liable to evaporate, and its
solvent properties are able to act upon the material of which
the rock is built up, until, with the lapse of time, a cavity is
formed capable of containing a quantity that will last through
longer and longer periods of drought. By-and-by small plants
and animals make their appearance, and the corrosive agency
of the water is assisted by the acids set free in the decompo-
sition of organic substances. Finally the cavity attracts the
notice of man, who finds its contents repay the trouble
of scooping them out, and thus he, too, mechanically
assists in its enlargement. Thus year after year the process
goes on, until at length we have the spacious ngurunga,
large enough to contain a supply of water to serve whole
caravans.

Ngurungas are of all sizes up to eight feet in diameter and
six or seven feet deep. Unless immediately after the rains,
the green slimy liquid they contain, if poured into a glass,
would hardly be dignified by the name of water. Fortunately,
in these regions we have no glasses to drink out of, and the
addition of a few drops of acetic or citric acid makes it quite
palatable. I may add that I have never known it to produce
any evil effects, either on myself or among my men.

Next morning, each man having taken as much water as
his calabash would hold, and with a reserve supply of five
loads carried in the old petroleum-tins, we commenced our
forced march of two days through the thorn wilderness
towards Maungu. Ilalf-an-hour beyond Taro, we reached
the ngurungas of Makanga among the sandstone slabs of the
level plain. Here we were met by a dozen Wa-Taita, desirous

64 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

of accompanying the caravan as far as their native district,
in the capacity of assistants to the porters. Of course, the
porters pay for the hire of these assistants themselves, and
so long as he has a rag of cloth or a handful of beads to spare,
nothing seems to please the lazy Swahili better than to get
a native to carry his load for him, while he plays the fine
o-entleman and walks behind at his ease. I have known

men so well able to husband their weekly poslio (allowance
of goods for the purchase of provisions) that, with a little
friendly assistance from a comrade in the way of a handful
of grain, they have contrived to afford the luxury of a native
substitute throughout nearly the whole of the journey.

On this march we only paused to rest every two or three
hours, and did not pitch camp till evening. All day long
we pushed doggedly on through the never-ending scrub and
thickets. At midday we halted for an hour at a small dried-
up marsh called Ziwa la Majumö. Just as we were on the
point of starting there appeared fi-om the other side of the
trees a party consisting of between thirty and forty native
porters of some unfamiliar tribe. The customary salutations
having been exchanged, they volunteered the information that
they came from Kilimanjaro, and were now on their way
home to the coast, having been discharged by the American
naturalist Dr. Abbott, who had no further use for their ser-
vices. The story was plausible enough, but they seemed to me
a suspicious-looking lot, and I was at a loss how to account for
the presence of two donkeys and a couple of Arab half-breeds
who formed part of the motley crew. Afterwards, in Taita, we
learned that the spokesmen were slave-dealers, on their way
to the coast with twenty Wa-Jagga slaves. We gathered
from them, however, sundry important pieces of information
as to the state of the road ahead, where water was to be had,
the latest stories of Masai on the war-path, and more of a

BETWEEN TARO AND MAUNGU. 6$

like kind, taking leave of them at last with a civil interchange
of kivaheris (good-bye).

As we proceed westward a remarkable change takes place
in the character of the soil and of the vegetation. The sand-
stones are replaced by crystalline slates, gneisses, and meta-
morphic rocks, all converted by the powerful atmospheric
agencies into red laterite. At the same time the trees become
more stunted, the bush more open and scrubby, the grass
degenerates into miserable isolated tufts ; everywhere the
staring red soil is visible among the prevailing greys of this
forbidding vegetation. It is not exactly an inviting prospect,
yet this mingling of red wdth the greys of the lichen-clad
trunks and branches and the bluish-greens of the opening
leaves is not without a certain charm of colour peculiarly
its own.

Owing to the absence of prominent features in the land-
scape from which to take bearings, the task of plotting the
route had to be performed with unusual care, and I was soon
thoroughly sick of it. Accordingly, I hailed with joy the
rugged pyramidal mass of Kisigao, which became visible in
the south-west for a few moments late in the afternoon. The
porters, however, grumbled at the short halt.

I had already sent on the reserve supply of water to our
appointed camping-ground, so that the main body of the
caravan might feel they had some object in pushing on ; and
in the evening, after sunset, the weary and thirsty porters
might have been seen staggering onwards beneath their heavy
loads, urged now by threats, now by words of encouragement,
until in the fast-gathering darkness the fires of the water-
carriers became distinguishable among the trees, and with one
more spurt we were in camp. Greedily each man swallowed
the portion of water carefully doled out to him by Ali, for the
calabashes were empty long ago. Then, after a hasty supper

66 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

of rice or maize left over from the last meal, they flung them-
selves down to sleep among the carelessly scattered loads, an
example we ourselves were glad to follow after a cupful of
pea-soup, which had been heated up for us over the blazing
camp-fire. To the conservative instincts of the Swahili
porter a night thus spent in the open, and not at any of the
accustomed camping-grounds, is a veritable horror, especially
if it be in a spot destitute of trees or bush. He has nothing
to lean against, nothing to shelter under, nowhere to hang his
various belongings. In the present instance, however, we
were not so badly off. There were plenty of bushes, and in
the men's exhausted condition, everything else was forgotten
in the overwhelming desire to rest.

At two in the morning I awoke shivering with cold and
soaked to the skin with the heavy dew. The full-moon shone
in the zenith, and without delay I roused the snoring sleepers
to continue the march in the clear, cool night. Soon all were
in motion, but first I committed our two remaining loads of
water to a couple of the most trustworthy, and sent them
ahead to await us half-way to Maungu. Then, taking my
place at the head of the file, I continue to note the readings
of compass and barometer by the aid of a dark-lantern. Not
a sound is heard as we steadily hold on our way between the
grey, thorny trees, looking weird and ghost-like in the moon-
light. Owing to the nature of the bush, the path curves about
in sinuous windings, more than doubling the distance we
have to traverse. Slowly the moon sinks below the horizon,
all too swiftly the dawn steals across the east, chased into day
by the all-conquering sun, which once more starts triumphant
to run his course in the heavens, to the painful cost of weary
wanderers such as we.

In the course of the last hour we have left the arid forest
region behind, and are now in the midst of the wilderness of

THE WILDERNESS OF THORN SCRUB. 67

thorn scrub. For miles the landscape has the appearance
of an immense flat plain, planted at almost regular intervals
with shrubs or low trees about the height of our ordinary
fruit-trees. This regularity is the result of the struggle for
air and moisture in this repellent waste. The trees vary
in height from six to twelve or thirteen feet, and occur
at intervals of from nine to twelve feet apart. They are
roughly pyramidal in form, and begin to branch not far from
the ground. With their grey trunks and branches festooned
with trailing lichens, their stiff twigs and large and numerous
thorns, they bear a striking resemblance to wild pear-trees in
winter.

It is only at rare intervals that a tuft of grass relieves
the glaring red of the otherwise naked earth ; shrubs in the
proper sense of the term there are none. A slender creeping
plant, with a saccate tuberous stem, eighteen inches to three
feet long, is the one constant associate of the thorn-trees
throughout the whole area.

The trees at this season were for the most part in bud ;
and some also displayed clusters of white or yellowish flowers.
Notwithstanding the external similarity of all forms, it was
easy to perceive that there were three prevailing species. Of
these, one with tri-lobate leaves and another with leaves finely
pinnate we recognised as having occurred on the other side
of Taro ; the third, which was still leafless, was new.

The most remarkable effect of the extremes of climate
on the flora of this region is, as we have elsewhere remarked,
the enormous development of thorns. These thorns are to
be regarded not so much as a defence against animals — for
there is nothing here to attract the plant-loving denizens of
the open steppes — as a protection against the drought of the
dry season, which here seems of extraordinary intensity. As
Grisebach points out in his classical work. Vegetation der

es MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

Erde, nature, throughout the organic world, is constantly
utilising the same means for the attainment of the most
varied ends, determining the organs according to the envi-
ronment with the utmost exactitude and through the most
minute modifications. In the case we are considering the
plants are protected, on the one hand against drought and
on the other against animals, by a partial suppression of
the leaves, of which in a certain number the fibro-vascular
bundles become indurated and form thorns from an inch
and a half to two inches long. These later on develop
into branches, and themselves give rise to other thorns.
The thorns shoot out from the stem alternately with the
true leaves and form a spiral, the extremity of each twig
developing likewise into a sharp thorn. It is self-evident
that with such a suppression of the foliage there must be
a corresponding diminution of transpiration, and the tree
is enabled to preserve its sap when, during the dry season,
its roots cannot any longer obtain a supply of moisture. The
thorns spring from the twigs, the twigs from the branches,
and the branches from the trunk almost at right angles, the
result being a form of vegetation of most angular outlines and
forbidding aspect.

At last, on our left toward the north-west, appeared the
cloud-capped mountains of Maungu. The porters, exhausted
with their twenty hours' march almost without water, food,
or sleep, and carrying loads of from seventy to eighty pounds,
began to pluck up heart again, and, by dint of continuous
coaxing and other arguments yet more persuasive, were
induced to push on to the point where the water-carriers
awaited us. With what eagerness they gulped down the dirty
uninviting liquid, almost lukewarm after its long exposure
to the sun in the tin petroleum-cans ! Not a drop was lost.
Then it was on again towards the camping-ground on the

VIEW FROM MAUNGU. 69

mountain, from which we were still separated by a long ridge
of gneiss. It was impossible to maintain the usual compact
line of march ; but by midday every man was assembled under
the sycamores of Maungu, enjoying the luxury of a w^ash in
rain-water, which had to be fetched from a ngurunga half-
way up the mountain-side.

From our coign of vantage on the slope we had a
magnificent view of the surrounding country far and near,
a pleasure which had been denied us in the plain below.
Behind, the mountain rises steeply to a height of over 600
feet, clothed with tree-euphorbias almost to its summit. To
the east, in boundless monotony, extends the dreary thorn wil-
derness we have just quitted ; west of it, and sharply divided
from it and its characteristic vegetation by the ridge of moun-
tains, stretch the "bush and tree steppes" to the far horizon,
where Ndara and the mountains of Taita loom up as a hazy
wall, running towards the north. The picture does not pre-
sent much variety, but one is thankful for small mercies in
this part of East Africa.

The lonely camp at Maungu possessed no very great
charms with which to tempt a caravan to a prolonged stay.
Accordingly, their loads being exhausted, I that evening
dismissed the porters I had brought from Rabai to carry rice,
and sent them back to the coast with letters for Zanzibar and
Europe. There was no fear of any of the others trying to
run away along with them, now that they had the terrors
of the road from Taro to Maungu behind them, though
after the hardships already endured the next day's march of
eight hours to Ndara was excessively trying.

We had barely entered the tree-steppes to the west of
Maungu when we started a herd of hartebeeste (Alcelaphus
caama), the first big game we had seen so far. Nor did
we come upon any more, for the trees gradually gave place

70 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

to thick bush, which is always avoided by game of this
kind.

The soil to the west of Maungu is of the same red
colour, but instead of being stiff and clayey, as on the
eastern side, it is porous and sandy. Grass begins to
show itself again among the clumps of mimosse, where also
appears a thoniy shrub almost smothered with yellow blos-
soms, which give off a delicious odour of violets that attracts
thousands of wild bees. In this case also the flowers come
before the leaves. Wherever the ground rises a little there
are thickets of euphorbias and liliacese linked together with
creepers. Here, as elsewhere, the grass has largely been
burnt away for clearings, leaving the black chaiTed patches
so familiar to the traveller in Africa at this season. The
pungent smell of burning mingles with the flower-scented
air, whilst here and there tongues of flame may be seen
creeping along among the dry withered blades with an
African deliberateness well calculated to upset our precon-
ceived notions of sensational prairie fires, — stampeding cattle
and terrified fugitives.

Throughout the march the rugged southern extremity of
the Ndara chain was visible as an outstanding landmark, and
we had to pass to the south of it in order to reach water, on
the western side of the mountains. Slowly we approached
the outlying hills of Manyani, where, in the depression
which forms the approach, the prevailing latentes exchange
their customary red colour for a dark-brown humus tint,
always associated with that stem vegetation of which thorny
mimosse and aloes are the type. The ground is full of
cracks, telling plainly of an insufficient rainfall, even in the
wet season, and of heavy floods which wash away the surface
soil before they have time to penetrate the layers beneath.
As we ascend the hills we note a number of dry water-

A HOSPITABLE MISSIONARY. 71

courses, and pass the camping-ground of Marago ya Kanga,
where I spent a night in July 1888. On the tree-crowned
heights above a thunderstorm is raging, but we witness it
from afar, as we wend our way in the broiling heat round the
southern spur of the range, with its wealth of giant leafless
baobabs. The western face of Ndara has the appearance of
an immense wall of gneiss, along the foot of which we plod
in a straggling column, until at length, far up the mountain-
side, we descry the huts of the Sagala Mission station, and
reach our camping-ground under a group of shady sycamore-
trees by the side of a small pool.

Pitching our tents and announcing our arrival by the
customary firing of guns, we were answered from above by
a corresponding number of shots, and soon afterwards, by the
aid of a glass, I was able to distinguish a European in tropical
dress making his way downwards, accompanied by a party of
natives. An hour later Mr. Wray of the Church Missionary
Society was in my tent, having brought with him for the
benefit of the new arrival, whosoever he might prove to be,
a quantity of milk, fresh butter, and vegetables. Needless to
say these unwonted dainties were duly appreciated.

All too quickly the time passed in a pleasant interchange
of news, until at length the sinking sun warned my visitor
that he must take his leave. When I bade him good-bye,
I promised to pay him a visit at his own house on the
following day.

As the inhabitants of Ndara have rather a bad name, my
men were allowed for this night to retain possession of their
guns and ammunition. In spite of strict injunctions to the
contrary, the foolish fellows took advantage of the darkness to
amuse themselves by firing off blank-cartridge, with the result
that one of them received the contents of a gun in the
middle of his back. There was peace after that. The in-

72 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

flucnce of the niglit stole over me. Under the serene splen-
dour of the zodiacal light I sat listening to the homely
croaking of a frog in a neighbouring pool, mentally recalling
scenes in the journey thus far, until at length my head
drooped and my eyelids closed, and I fell fast asleep.

After the trying marches of the last few days it was
necessary to allow the men some time to recruit. Most of
them were suifering from sore feet, and many were quite
lame. The prolonged halt likewise afforded me an oppor-
tunity of taking more extensive astronomical observations for
the determination of time and latitude.

The morning of the day after our arrival at Ndara was
pleasantly spent in a visit to the mission station, which I
reached after an hour's stiff climbing. I found Mr. Wray in
front of his corrugated iron dwelling, busily engaged in the
construction of a primitive sugar-press, the sugar-cane grow-
ing remarkably well at this elevation. Close by, the skin of a
lioness was spread out to dry, the animal having been shot by
this " sporting parson " a fortnight before, at the spot where we
were for the present encamped. Indoors there was a motley
assortment of miscellaneous odds and ends, such as could only
have been met with in the snuggery of a lonely bachelor in
Central Africa, who had not left his station for over eight
years. I was particularly struck with an iron stove which
stood in one corner, and which must of course be a most use-
ful acquisition in the cold nights of June and July, although
the altitude is only some 600 feet above the plain below.

There was nothing remarkable in the surrounding groups
of bee-hive-shaped huts, — the dwellings of the natives, — nor
in the natives themselves, about whom sufficient has been
said and written by other travellers. Beyond the mission-
house the ground dips down into a charming valley, through
which flows a babbling brook, its banks covered with a luxu-

THE MOUNTAINS OF NDARA. 73

riant profusion of sugar-canes and bananas, gro^ying side by
side with European vegetables, while sleek cattle graze upon
the grassy slopes. The rock here, as on the outlying spurs
of the mountain, is a hard quartzose gneiss, which from below
has almost the appearance of granite.

The manifold shapes and shiftings of the clouds in this
neighbourhood are among its most interesting features. The
mountains of Ndara are the first barrier that the moisture-
laden monsoons from the ocean encounter after their passage
across the eastern plains. Here, accordingly, the moisture
condenses into vapour, which partly falls as rain, and partly
is wafted farther in the form of clouds until it reaches Taita,
where it is again met and cooled by intervening mountain-
tops. On the eastern side of the mountains of Taita the
moisture is finally exhausted ; beyond lie the barren steppes.
But all day long from the surrounding plains the heated
air rises continuously, forming upward currents sufiiciently
powerful to overcome the steady westward movement of the
monsoons, and by these the clouds are tumbled and tossed
about in all directions. As the plains cool towards evening,
the upward currents are transformed into downward currents,
and such clouds as still remain overhead again come under
the influence of the monsoon and resume their journey
westward.

The view from the summit of Ndara ranges southward as
far as the isolated peak of Kisigao and the more distant
mountains of Usambara. To the south-west it is bounded by
the Pare mountains, and to the west by the mountains of
Taita, which run north and south parallel with Ndara. Round
the bases of these mountains sweep the boundless steppes,
the whole looking like a calm, grey ocean studded with rocky
islands. But while the ocean, with its rippling waves, is a
type of life and its ceaseless unrest, the steppes, in their

74 MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

death-like stillness, suggest rather the idea of Infinity, and
far more tlian ocean lead the mind to the contemplation of
things sublime.

After taking a hearty leave of my kind host at Sagala, I
returned to camp at midday. In the course of the afternoon
one of our best porters fell ill, and showed such marked
symptoms of small-pox that on resuming our march next
day we were forced to leave him behind, under the kindly
care of Mr. Wray. To no other disease is the negro so subject
as to small-pox, and cases are not unknown in which whole
caravans have been swept off by the fell scourge. Accord-
ingly, I had provided myself plentifully with lymph, so that
in case of an outbreak I should be able to vaccinate all the
men. This, however, turned out to be the only case we had,
and on my return journey two months later I had the satis-
faction of finding the invalid quite better, and took him back
with me to the coast.

On leaving the camp at Ndara we resumed our march
across the steppes, which, lying on the rainless side of the
mountain, have an even more grimly desolate aspect than on
the other side. An ashen grey is here the prevailing tone,
unmodified by the former brownish tint. Yet in spite of the
prevailing barrenness antelopes and lions abound, judging by
the numerous tracks we saw. After a march of two hours
we crossed the rising ground of Gogoloni, which runs as a
ridge of rocky quartz boulders across the plain between Ndara
and Taita, and kept on towards the rugged rocks of Javia,
the southern spur of the Taita range, and, like the southern
buttress of Ndara, a conspicuous feature in the landscape.
Towards midday we saAv the broad, deep valley of the Matate
river opening up beneath us, and half an hour later, after
wading across the muddy ford, we reached my old camp-
ing ground of 1887, ^^^^ its verdant surroundings had

OPEN REBELLION. 75

now, as then, an electrical effect on the spirits of my
followers.

In response to the summons of our guns, a bustling crowd
of natives soon surrounded us, and were speedily driving a
trade in sugar-cane and fruits of various kinds. Unfortunately,
it was not long before things began to get rather lively, for
the Wa-Taita of this district richly deserve the unenviable
reputation they have gained of being the greatest thieves and
cheats in the region. As for the women, the worst has not been
told of them. Many of my men had reason to remember for
months the hours spent among the Arcadians of Matate.

As might be expected, the Swahili found this land of
plenty only too inviting, and loudly clamoured for a second
day's halt. I had my work on Kilimanjaro to consider,
however, and as the rainy season was approaching, when no
mountaineering is possible, I could not look on any dally-
ing by the way, however pleasant, as anything but waste of
precious time.

I awoke next morning at the usual hour, but when I went
out not a soul took the trouble to move, with the exception of
the Somal. One or two looked up and smiled mockingly ;
it was a preconcerted mutiny. Four of the Zanzibaris
w^ere preparing their breakfast at one of the camp-fires. Re-
straining my wrath, I walked up to them and repeated my
order, '^ Haya, funga mkeka!" For answer they stared at
me stupidly, as if they had not understood. Then I laid
hold of All's rhinoceros-hide whip, and began deliberately
to lay it about the shoulders of the tallest of the four, till
he yelled for mercy. The effect was magical. Before he had
received his dozen, every man was on his feet scrambling
for his load, and by sunrise the caravan was once more on
the march, the crestfallen culprit coming in for a running
fire of " chaff" from his more fortunate comrades.

7^ MOMBAZA TO TA VET A.

A steep path leads upward through the bush along the
rugged southern slopes of Javia. About half-way up it ceases
to ascend, and at a height of some three or four hundred feet
above the plain keeps on along the mountain-side, till once
more it bends downwards towards the Bura stream. On the
right it is overhung by precipitous cliffs of gneiss, while to
the left it affords an uninterrupted view southward across the
plains. The rocks are intercalated with thick strata of snowy
crystalline limestone, dipping gently towards the north.

After three hours we began to descend into the valley of
the Bura, which, like the Matate, rises in the Taita moun-
tains and flows southward. Here we pitched our tents on a
grassy bank, at the edge of the wooded strip which borders
the stream, and which, though scarcely tw'enty yards broad,
includes trees of considerable height. This being the last
point before Taveta at which water is to be obtained, I was
fain to content myself with the short day's march.

Unfortunately, next morning circumstances compelled us
to be rather later in starting than I could have -wished.
Another man had fallen sick and had to be sent back,
and as there were several other things to be seen to, the sun
was already well up before we got under weigh. In the
stifling noonday heat we made our way down along the grassy
bank of the stream. The belt of wood running along the
watercourse is as sharply defined from the grass of the hill-
side as any European forest from the surrounding fields and
meadows. Here nature and not man is the restricting force,
the limit of the trees exactly corresponding with the limit to
which the fertilising influence of the stream has power to
penetrate the soil.

Continuing our way across the southern bush-covered spurs
of Taita, we rounded the rocky dome of Muria and resumed
the tedious march across the widest stretch of tree-steppe

THE TREE-STEPPES. 77

throughout east Central Africa. The steppes here assume
the characteristics which they maintain ahiiost all the way to
Kilimanjaro — the typical characteristics with which we have
been familiarised through various works of African travel.
The vegetation consists mainly of grass and low shrubs, with
a sprinkling of thorny species, and every hundred or two
hundred paces a tree or bush of the mimosa type ; but there
are no sycamores, no euphorbias or other succulent forms, and
no creepers such as are met with in the more easterly dis-
tricts. If the grass were not so poor and scanty these western
plains might almost be compared to savannahs ; but, as it is
a small-bladed variety, and grows in isolated tufts, between
which the red laterite soil is plainly visible, they may more
fittingly be likened to steppes. For the most part the trees
stand very wide apart, but occasionally they occur in clumps
and associated with shrubs, imparting to the landscape the
so-called park-like aspect, which is always a bad sign for the
fertility of the soil.

All the trees, no matter of what type, grow vertically
upwards for some distance before giving off branches, and
then they throw them out all together in a horizontal direc-
tion, so that the general outline resembles as nearly as pos-
sible an umbrella or mushroom. They are all flat-topped,
as if the upper branches had been cut away. Thousands
upon thousands of these singular-looking trees, all of the
same shape and the same brownish-grey colour, are scattered
over the mottled surface of the waste, with its alternating
patches of red soil and faded grass, imparting to the land-
scape a dreary monotony that can be better imagined than
described.

The traveller, seeking shelter from the sun as he journeys
on, is surprised to find that it is the branches and not the
leaves he has to thank for whatever shade the trees afford.

;8 MOMBAZA TO T A VET A.

On examination the reason proves to be that the pinnae of
the leaves are all folded together along the stems. They
thus avoid the direct rays of the sun and so are protected
fiom excessive evaporation. At night, on the other hand,
when there are extremely heavy dews, the pinna3 spread
themselves out so as to absorb as much of the moisture as
possible, work in which they are specially assisted by the
peculiar arrangement of the branches. They are all protected
against animals by an effectual armour of thorns.

Once or twice we came upon one of the shapeless baobabs
or monkey-bread trees, looking, among the trim mimosee, like
a roofless ruin among a group of well-kept cottages. Yet the
baobab possesses a certain fitness to its surroundings, and
especially harmonises with the larger representatives of the
East African fauna — the elephant, the rhinoceros, and the
giraffe. It is a relic of those early periods of time in which
nature delighted in more colossal forms of life than now,
and since that epoch no part of Central Africa has been sub-
merged by the ocean. Not the geological features only, but
also the fauna and flora continually remind us that we are
on a continent of the highest antiquity, considered relatively
to other parts of the earth's surface.

Wonderful in the extreme is the manner in which nature
has adjusted the balance between the animal and its environ-
ment in these vast plains. The boundless reaches of wooded
grass land, over which, owing to the open distribution of the
trees, the eye roams unhindered for miles, seem the fitting
habitat of the large herbivorous species which there find food
and shelter. At night the heavy dews afford them a plentiful
supply of water, and they probably know of ngurungas as
yet undiscovered by man. With the exception of vultures,
no birds are to be met with on the steppes, and insects are
only to be seen in the rainy season.

BIG GAME. 79

Among the big game, the rhinoceros and the giraffe
are of somewhat exchisive habits ; they graze singly or in
small groups of two or three of their own species. The
ostrich is frequently seen mingling with other animals, but
only the antelope and the zebra can be said to be truly
gregarious. I have sometimes counted as many as two hun-
dred and thirty head in a single herd, hut each herd is broken
up into small troops, and comprises different species. From
afar the animals eye the approaching caravan with heads
upraised in suspicion. As we draw nearer, the smaller species
are the first to take to flight, and are followed shortly after
by the lumbering Taro antelope and hartebeest, whose young
ones look extremely comical as they bound away at the heels
of their elders, taking apparently aimless leaps into the air.
The graceful eland and other large antelopes are the next to
make off, and last of all the zebra, which does not seem to
realise the situation until it looks up to find its companions
in full flight ; then after pausing a moment as if to measure
the distance, it runs forward a few steps and stops once or
twice, until, hesitating no longer, it dashes off at full gallop
to join the rest, the males as they go giving tongue like a
pack of hounds in full cry. Of course, the animals always
run with the wind. If the spectator remains motionless
they will go on quietly feeding, so that it is not the sense of
danger from the presence of man that drives them away, but
merely his movements — the signs of the presence of some
unfamiliar living thing.

Every observer must be struck with the general similarity
in colour, and partly also in form, of the larger African
mammals to the prevailing colours and features of the
regions they frequent. At a distance it is scarcely pos-
sible to tell a hartebeest at rest from one of the reddish
ant-heaps which everywhere abound ; the long-legged, long-

8o M 0MB AZA TO T A VET A.

necked giraffe might easily pass for a dead mimosa, the
rhinoceros for a fallen trunk, the grey-brown zebra for a
clump of grass or thorn-scrub. It is only their movements
that betray their real character. The insects too have their
" magic mantle " of invisibility. No wonder it is difficult
to make a collection when the butterflies and crickets look
like leaves and dry blades, the cicadse like leaf-stems, the
spiders like thorns, the phasmodese like bare twigs, the beetles
like stones and bits of earth, the moths like mosses and
lichens.

But this mimicry is carried deeper than mere external
form. By appropriate movements or apparent lifelessness,
or by the selection of a suitable haunt, each animal strives
to act the part, or find the setting, appropriate to its disguise.
Everj^where there is protection, and against all manner of
foes, nature displaying a vast fertility of resource in imitative
devices, such as could only have been developed in a primeval
continent like Africa.

The country between Taita and Kilimanjaro consists of a
series of low undulations running generally N.E. and S.W.
Each of these took from an hour to an hour and a half to
cross, and no sooner had we reached the summit of one than
another swelled up before us, wdth its grey-brown grass, its
grey-broW'U mimosee, and reddish laterite soil. At sunset a
strong, cold wind set in from the south-west, and we were
glad to camp by the wayside and seek the comfort of a
roaring fire.

The moon w^as in its third quarter, and did not rise till
midnight. By its light the march w^as continued, to the
accompaniment of the distant roaring of a couple of lions.
Gradually we found ourselves enveloped in a thick, cold fog,
through which the branches of the acacias loomed ghost-like

KILIMANJARO. 8i

and weird. The silence was unbroken save when some stray
animal, alarmed by our approach, rushed wildly past us and
vanished in the mist. Towards morning we made a short
halt in order to warm ourselves, and found that the thermo-
meter registered 47° F. Almost immediately we pushed on
again.

With the first rays of the morning sun a magnificent
spectacle burst upon us. All of a sudden the veil of mist
was rent apart, and to our admiring gaze was revealed the
snowy peak of Kilimanjaro, grand, majestic, more than
earthly in the silver light of the morning. It was from
this same spot that in June 1887 I had my first view of
the mountain. For weeks I had thought of almost no-
thing else^for many weary days I had been journeying to
see it. Day after day I had vainly scanned the boundless
steppes, impatiently longing for the moment when the courtier
clouds would sweep aside and reveal the monarch they so
jealously guarded. After all, the spectacle burst upon me
almost as a revelation. A streak of silver in the south
showed where Lake Jipe glittered in the sunlight beneath the
frowning heights of cloud-capped Ugweno ; to the right a
belt of trees marked the course of the crystal Lumi and the
forest fastness of Taveta. Behind the woods lay a stretch of
gently rising plain, and on the further side of it, towering up to
a height of nearly 20,000 feet, the mighty mountain mass of
Kilimanjaro. Through the light mists and vapours that clung
about its lower slopes the wooded hills of Jagga showed
darkly here and there, and above the clouds — apparently
suspended in mid-air — hung the snowy dome of Kibo, the
mountain's highest peak. Its sister-peak, the Mawenzi, was
hidden behind a mass of heavy cumulus cloud — all except the
magnificent unbroken sweep of its north-eastern slope. It
was a picture full of contrasts — here the swelling heat of the

82 M 0MB AZA TO TA VET A.

Equator, the naked negro, and the palm-trees of Taveta — '
yonder, arctic snow and ice, and an atmosphere of god-like
repose, where once was the angry turmoil of a fiery volcano.

After our present arduous journey across the steppes, the
sublime spectacle once more burst upon us with all the over-
whelming charm of novelty. For the moment all our weari-
ness was forgotten. We could only stand and gaze, while
the caravan rolled past unheeded and unheeding.

At length, having recovered from our first feelings of awe
and wonder, we commenced there and then to discuss the
possibility of an ascent, and even at that distance to look out
for possible points of access. I was almost sure that, over
the snow-clad eastern rim of the Kibo crater, I could catch
a glimpse of the dark interior of its western wall, and my
thoughts turned longingly to the time when I should be able
to reach it, and see for myself what the old Kibo crater was
really like.

But this was no time for prolonged observations and
speculations, and w^e hurried on to overtake the caravan.
The last few miles were the worst of the whole journey,
and we had not a single drop of water. As we gradually
approached the depression in which lie the Lumi and Lake
Jip^ the heat grew more and more unbearable. At one
point we obtained a brief but inspiring glimpse of the silvery
sheet of water as it glittered in the morning sun, but after
passing another of my old camping-grounds at the empty
ngurungas of Lanjora-mdogo, there lay an arduous march of
four hours between us and the forest of Taveta. Every man
did his weary best, but in the end I had to push ahead alone
with Herr Purtscheller and six porters carrying what was
simply indispensable. All the rest had sunk down exhausted
by the way, and did not reach camp till next day, after a
supply of water had been sent back to them. Threading

ARRIVAL IN TA VET A.

our way through the maze of winding paths, we entered at
last the shady paradise of Taveta, and climbed the numerous
fences erected by the inhabitants as a protection against the
marauding Masai. Creeping under the low gateway at sunset,
on September 17, we found ourselves installed beside the
cool swift-flowing Lumi, in the cosy little thatched house of
the old English camp, now in a much more ruinous condition
than when I last saw^ it in 1887.

5s-ikö?'^ ' -i-s-''^^&w^^^

CAMP-SCENE — WA-TAITA SELLING FOOD.

CIIxlPTER III.

AT MANDARA'S AND MA RE ALE'S.

JAGG A WARRIORS.

quarter long by scarcely a mile broad

Grateful as the cool wells
of Damascus to the Bedouin
of the desert is the shady
paradise of Taveta to the
thirsty soul of the coast
porter. And indeed a greater
contrast than that between the
open scorching plains and the
bosky bowers of this dim forest
retreat can scarcely be con-
ceived. If it be true, as has
been said, that Egypt is the
gift of the Nile, then Taveta
is the gift of the Lumi, which,
rising on the eastern slopes of
Mawenzi, flows southward towards
Lake Jipe in a deep channel, and,
spreading underground, serves to
nourish a tropical forest of unsur-
passed luxuriance. The forest
proper occupies the middle
course of the river, and covers
an area about a mile and a
Higher up, owing

TAVETA. 85

to the unfavourable conformation of the ground, it dwindles
to a mere strip ; while below, where the river broadens out
into a marsh ere it is finally lost in Lake Jipe, the vegetation
degenerates into a tangled thicket. But what the forest
lacks in extent it makes up in luxuriance of growth, rich-
ness of species, and the great size attained by the trees.

The line of demarcation between the forest and the arid
plains outside is sharply defined by a remarkable concourse
of the larger representatives of the typical steppe flora,
mimosse, sycamores, tamarinds, adansonias, and kigelias, which
here combine to form an open wood. Although, to all appear-
ance, these trees stand beyond the limit of the subterranean
water-level, they are sufficiently within range of the river to
benefit by its fertilising influence. Of extraordinary forms
there is no lack. The kigelias especially, with their gigantic
ashen-coloured, sausage-like fruits, look as if they had come
straight from some fabled land of Cocagne.

Immediately within the charmed circle stands the forest
proper, with its wealth of cotton-trees, banyans, palms, lianas,
and various Ficus species. Tall straight stems, springing
up to a height of perhaps one hundred feet before they begin
to branch, are eveiywhere predominant, and between them
the graceful raphia palm finds room to spread its glossy
leaves, many of them as much as forty or fifty feet long. In
the immediate proximity of the snow-fed stream, which glides
peacefully along its almost level course between banks never
more than twenty-five feet apart, nature simply revels in
wanton profusion and luxuriance. A single banana stem
amply suffices as a bridge across the river.

Two species of monkeys and a lemur, with large and small
hornbills and pigeons, are the commonest representatives
of the animal world. During the day silence reigns, but
at night the bark of the monkey, the chirp of the cicadae,

86 AT ^fANDARA'S AND MAREALE'S.

and the ghoulish howl of the hyena resound through the
pillared halls of the forest, and mingle with the dull thud
of drums, beaten by the natives to scare away the wild
swine from their plantations.

The forest is the home of the Wa-kwafi branch of the
Wa-taveta tribe. In appearance, customs, and language
the "Wa-kwafi are more akin to the Masai than to the
Bantu races of the coast-region. Nor are they more closely
allied to their neighbours of Jagga, Mhom, however, they
resemble in the possession of land and the cultivation of
the soil, whereas the Masai are purely nomadic. The men
follow the Masai fashion in their manner of twisting the
hair into strings, and carry a long-bladed spear and sword
of iSIasai pattern. Like that of the Masai waiTior, also, their
clothing consists mainly of a layer of grease mixed with red
clay. The women are not behind-hand. Like their Masai
sisters, they shave the head, and wear coils of iron wire as
ear, neck, arm, and leg ornaments, while their clothing is an
apron-like garment of bullock's hide.

Their beehive-shaped grass huts are not clustered together
to form villages, but, as in Jagga, are scattered in small groups
throughout the forest. Three or four stand together within
a common palisade, the opening through which is so small
that their domestic animals (goats, fat-tailed sheep, and
humped cows). cannot get outside. The fowls alone enjoy
unlimited freedom.

Two years previously we had not been able to procure
a single head of cattle for food throughout the whole
of Taveta. Through fear of the Masai, who are notorious
cattle - stealers, the natives had reduced their stock to
the smallest possible limits. Two or three times since then
they had been successful in repelling Masai attacks, and,
taking courage again, had allowed their flocks to multiply

LIFE IN TA VET A. 87

to a considerable extent. Like their neighbours of Jagga,
however, they dared not venture to drive their cattle to the
open fields, but were content to feed them in their enclosures.
Oxen were to be had for about thirty rupees a head, goats for
about one-third that sum — in fact, prices were much the
same as at the coast. The danger by which the natives are
constantly threatened, of being robbed of the hard-won fruits
of their toil, is the great check to production throughout
the whole of East Africa ; the stock-rearing of the Wa-kwafi
is an illustration.

As will readily be understood, Taveta — this oasis in the
desert, lying on the borders of the dreaded Masai country —
is the point upon which converge all the caravan-routes from
the coast between Rufu and Sabaki. Of these, the most
important are the routes from Mombaza and Pangani, which
at Taveta meet those running southwards by Kilimanjaro
to the Victoria Nyanza, and eastwards along the foot of the
same mountain to Ukamba, the Kenia region, and Samburu.
No caravan passes through Taveta without a halt of at least
several days.

Taveta has also recently become the headquarters of the
various English and American sportsmen, who seem bent on
the systematic destruction of all the big game in the rich
preserves of the Kilimanjaro district. Like the Englishman
Johnston in 1886, a young American has now located himself
here, in a charming little camp, comprising a dwelling-house,
several huts, and a garden ; in the absence of the master, we
were received by a couple of servants, who had been left
behind on account of illness.

Every caravan arriving in Taveta from the coast has to
pay a tribute (hongo) in cloth and beads before any business
can be transacted. It was formerly the custom to levy this
blackmail with a great show of force, the warriors appearing

S8 AT MANDARA'S AXD MA RE ALE'S.

in a body and executing a wild war-dance, accompanied by
demoniacal whoops and yells. This time, however, we were
met only by some representative elders, and matters were
arranged in a quiet, business-like fashion.

After their recent compulsory mortification of the flesh, my
men now abandoned themselves to the unstinted enjoyment
of the good things of life, and spent their time in eating,
drinking, sleeping, dancing, and flirting with the native
damsels. Their only work was making up the beads into
strings of the regulation length current in the district, the
fibres of the rapliia palm being used for this purpose as a
substitute for thread. The occupation is one which affords
abundant opportunity for pilfering, and a strict watch had to
be kept while the loads were unpacked and made up again.

"With the new milk daily brought to us as a present by a
fantastically dressed warrior — a regular Taveta "masher" —
HeiT Purtscheller eveiy evening concocted a delicious soup,
the like of which I have never tasted before or since. Other
delicacies were the perch-like fish from the Lumi, and the
pomhe, a sort of beer made from the fermented juice of the
rapliia palm. Unfortunately, pomhe is a drink of a highly
intoxicating nature, and I am afraid my porters owed a good
many floggings to their over-indulgence in it. Even Ali, the
Mohammedan Somali, was apparently unable to resist the
temptation, and one evening, with maudlin tears in his eyes,
gave himself up to many wise reflections on the frailty of
the flesh in general, and of his own in particular. Before
quitting this subject I must not omit to mention that we
found young maize cobs roasted an excellent substitute for
bread.

But in spite of, or rather on account of, the many dainties
it affords, Taveta is by no means a healthy place to live in,
and it was not long before we ourselves, as well as a number

TA VET A TO MOJL

of the porters, began to sufier from fever and pains in the
abdomen, a circumstance which reminded me that in 1887
I lost a man here from malaria.

On the day after our arrival 1 had sent messengers to
the Jagga state of Moji, the so-called " kingdom " of the
notorious chief Mandara. In his domain the English Church
Missionary Society and the German East African Company
have established stations. The year before, Mandara had
sent a fine tusk of ivory to the German Emperor in Berlin,
and now lived in the expectation of receiving large presents
in return, a hope which was likely soon to be realised, as
they had anived in Zanzibar before I left. Knowing I
should be the first German to visit him since his token of
goodwill had been despatched, I bade my messengers ask if
lie^was prepared to give me a good reception, notwithstand-
ing the fact that I could only afford a comparatively small
offering. His answer was short and to the point. I should
be welcome "provided only I brought something!' "~~

Meantime my men had recovered from the blistered feet
from which most of them had been sufi"ering after their
trying march across the burning steppes, and on the morning
of September 21st we resumed our tramp. Crossing the
placid Mfurro (Lumi is the Swahili, not the native name)
by a bridge of banana-stems, we again entered the primeval
forest. In a thousand tiny channels and rivulets the river
meanders through the shady thicket, beneath leafy tunnels
of creepers festooned from tree to tree. An hour and a
half's pushing and squeezing through this labyrinth of green
brought us out on the western steppes, which differ from
those to the east of Taveta only in displaying volcanic instead
of laterite rock-formations.

To the north and north-west spreads the broad base of
Kilimanjaro, its towering crest for the time being concealed

90 AT MAXDARA'S AND MAREALE'S.

by huge masses of heavy cumulus clouds. Of the green
belt of Jagga nothing is to be seen. The lower part of the
mountain, like the plains, is on this side covered only with
grey -brown grass. In the south-east of the mountain we see
the parasitic cones of the Wajimba group, and farther to
the west and south the mountains of Ugweno rise from
the plains like massive walls enshrouded in floating mists.
Their rugged outlines contrast strikingly with the more
gentle slopes of Kilimanjaro, and point to gneiss as the
prevailing rock.

Our path lies straight towards the southern termination of
the Wajimba Hills, on the south-east side of Kilimanjaro,
the ground rising almost imperceptibly after we leave the
Lumi. As we approach the hills, low deciduous trees with
glossy leaves encroach more and more on the mimosse of
the grass-lands, the grass becomes richer and closer, the
vegetation fresher and more luxuriant. The prevailing tint
is no longer a dull grey or brown, but a light greenish-yellow,
the whole landscape somewhat resembling a gigantic orchard
in autumn. The young green leaves are beginning to push
out in all directions, and the grass is shooting rapidly under
the influence of the tropical spring. In the dry beds of the
water-courses the ground is seen to consist of layers of grey
volcanic ashes mixed with fragments of basalt. No game is
visible anywhere ; before the guns of English and American
hunters it has all withdrawn to more secluded haunts.

A march of three hours brought us to the end of the bare
Makessa Hills, and to the north, on the slopes above us,
stretched the dark- green girdle of Jagga, wdth its woods and
fertile plantations. The summit of the mountain was still
concealed by clouds. Almost without being conscious of it,
w^e had gradually ascended to a considerable height, and
below us, on our left, the plains rolled away southward, one

CAMP AT THE HIMO. 91

illimitable expanse of brown, until they mingled with the
distant blue of the mountains of Ugweno.

Towards midday we hailed with delight the appearance
of a long narrow belt of trees winding downwards along the
mountain-side, and proclaiming to the thirsty traveller the
presence of a running stream. Soon we were cooling our
parched throats with the deliciously cold water of the Habari.
After continuing our way westward across the steppe for
another hour, we camped by the side of a second tree-shaded
water-course, the Himo. This river flows down from the
mountain in a channel some thirty feet deep, and it was at
the bottom of this gully that our tents were pitched. The
temperature of the water was 65° F., that of the atmosphere
85°. It may easily be imagined, therefore, how deliciously
refreshing it was to bathe in the stream, and what a delightful
beverage seemed its pure, cool water after the tepid liquid
mud of the ngurungas of the steppes.

As we sauntered along the narrow stony strip at the
bottom of the ravine, noting the volcanic ashes and agglome-
rates in the steep banks above, or adding to our collection by
catching some of the splendid butterflies which were hover-
ing about, we were suddenly hailed from the opposite side, and,
looking up, were profoundly astonished to see a European,
accompanied by several natives carrying a quantity of baggage.
In a few seconds we were shaking hands with each other, the
stranger having crossed the stream on the back of one of his
servants. He proved to be one of the English missionaries
from Moji, on his way to Taveta to fetch a fresh convert.
Over the tea-table we had a pleasant chat, in the course of
which I learned that in Moji, besides his colleague and the
American naturalist Dr. Abbott, I might expect to meet Mr.
Chanler, the owner of the charming camp at Taveta. After
tea, the missionary proceeded on his way towards the Habari,

92 AT MAXDARA'S AXD MA RE ALE'S.

where he intended to spend the night. The fact that he
was going to bring his convert from Taveta is significant,
since it shows that in Jagga, as at other mission stations
in East Africa, Christi anity is not generally in favour
among the natives. In the large coast station at Frere-
town, where the Gospel has been preached since the days
of Rebmann in 1847, the converts are all either freed or
bought slaves and their descendants, and in Moji they are
the same, or else some of the more speculative youths from
Taveta.

Our next day's march, through the grass and bush tracts
along the southern base of the mountain, proved exceedingly
monotonous and tiresome. The summit was enveloped in
mist and clouds, as on the day before ; but the plains of
Kahe to the south, bounded by a ring of mountains — the
Arusha range to the west, that of Ugweno to the east —
looked all the clearer by contrast, A host of streams, their
coui'ses marked by long, winding belts of trees, flow south-
wards. From time to time great clouds of dust are seen
to rise in the distance, showing where herds of game are
frisking together or have taken to flight on the approach
of danger, real or imaginary. Sometimes the dust is caught
up in a whirlwind and carried along for some distance, to
vanish at last into nothingness on the flat brown plains.
Always changing and always beautiful are the wonderful
cloud-shadows, as they flit unceasingly across the landscape,
imparting to it that magical charm of motion so painfully
absent on the cloudless eastern steppes.

The ground we traverse rises and falls with the ridges
lying between the ravines which furrow the flanks of the
mountain. AVe are still in the region of parasitic cones ;
I counted as many as fourteen before beginning the ascent
towards Moji. Their sides are seamed by numerous dry

ARRIVAL IN MOJI. 93

rivulets, which we have to cross, as our path keeps on
ahuost due west.

The men walked with a will, having the prospect of
Moji ahead, with its promise of rest and plenty. Early in
the afternoon we reached, on the south side of the moun-
tain, the foot of the great rib, on whose upper portion the
little state of Moji is situated. Here we quitted the path,
which continues westward along the base of Kilimanjaro,
and struck north by a road leading upwards towards the
cultivated-ler race of Jag ga. Mountain-climbing is not much
in the way of the Zanzibar! porter, accustomed as he is
to level ground, and accordingly our rate of progress was
slow.

As we continue to rise, the bush gradually grows more
and more dense, according as the trees of the steppes dis-
appear, and the leafy shrubs and bushes increase. Charac-
teristic mountain trees begin to appear along with tall reeds
and grasses. The ground is full of holes, caused by Cape
ant-eaters burrowing for the termites or white-ants. Soon
the channels of the brooks on either side become deeper,
and isolated huts and banana plantations dot the slopes,
while the heat is tempered by a refreshing breeze fi*om the
plains. Here we are in the region of the mountain rains,
and the vegetation suffers from no prolonged periods of
drought, as its character and appearance plainly show.
Everywhere the ground is clad with verdure, and the young
shoots are springing rapidly.

Suddenly we found ourselves before a barricaded gateway,
which barred our further progress. On the barricades being
withdrawn we squeezed ourselves through, and found ourselves
on one side of a steep ravine, while on the other Me beheld
a collection of conical huts — the residence of Mandara. My
goal for the present, however, lay farther up the moun-

li\jaA3 v\aa I ^

94 AT MAXDARA'S AND MAREALE'S.

tain, where on the heights waved a solitaiy Union Jack, and
beyond it the flags of Germany and America.

"With the usual salute of a volley from our guns, we made
our entry into Moji. An immediate response re-echoed
on all sides, and within five minutes the whole " kingdom "
knew that a white man's caravan, including sixty-five porte rs,
had arrived. After a stiff climb upwards, through a series
of tiny valleys, carefully tilled and planted, we reached the
English Mission station, where we were most hospitably
entertained by Mr. Morris, who received us with open arms.
Positively, there was bread on the table, an unwonted luxury
which quite took our breath away !

Meanwhile my men climbed upwards another five hundred
feet to the station of the German East African Company.
When we ourselves followed some time later, we came upon
a scene of the greatest bustle and animation. The American
sportsman, Mr. Chanler, had arrived shortly before us with
his followers, so that there were now about two hundred men
encamped at this spot. Boisterous greetings were exchanged
between many of the porters of the two caravans, who recog-
nised old acquaintances. Among Mr. Chanler's people I
myself observed two who had been with me on the expedition
of 1887.

The tinv-wooden building which forms the station has
been_ke£t_m__^ood repair by Dr. Abbott, who entered into
possession on the removal of the German East African
Company. The decoration of the interior has been car-
ried out in the national colours^^lack, white, and red,
and the earnest face of the Emperor Wilhelm IL looks
down from the place of honour on the wall. In the evening
-Ihete were no fewer than seven Europeans assembled round
Dr. Abbott's hospitable board, a gathefmg as yet unprece-
dented, I fancy, in the annals of Kilimanjaro.

MOJI— STATION OF THE GERMAN EAST AFRICA COMPANY.

A VISIT TO MANDARA. 95

Early next morning I looked out the presents intended
for Mandara, donned a spick and span new suit, and got my
Somal smartened up for a state visit to the self-important
chief. With the exception of carefully concealed revolvers,
we carried no weapons, lest they should excite the old
gentleman's insatiable cupidity. My two headmen, arrayed
in spotless white tunics, were of course included in the
party.

Passing the English Mission With a hasty greeting to
Mr. Morris, whom I found busy in the exercise of the healing
art among a number of natives, we descended the mountain
by a path leading downwards along numerous steep slopes
and rushing streams. At length we reached a fairly large
quadrangular dwelling, one of the numerous country-seats of
his swarthy Majesty. At a respectful distance from the closed
door squatted a group of about a dozen " courtiers," conversing
in whispers, lest they should disturb the sleeping monarch.
The large numbers of Swahili who formerly used to hang
about the court, and to whose skill in building Mandara
owes several of the dwellings he has had erected in the coast
style, have now almost entirely disappeared.

Our loud demands for admission were received with ex-
pressions of horror on the part of the terrified guard. They
had the desired effect, however, for presently a couple of
pretty young women slipped out at the door, and we were
invited by a voice from the interior to come in (kainbu).
In the windowless room, into which the daylight streamed
through the open doorway, while a fire burning in the midst
cast red reflections over walls and ceiling, Mandara was half
lying, half sitting on his Swahili bedstead [hitanda). Near
him squatted four of his older wives and a half-grown son,
whose position, owing to the despotic jealousy of his father,
is little better than that of a menial. The hut was divided

96 AT MAXDARA'S AXD MA RE ALE'S.

across the middle by a gaudy screen, against which ticked a
large clock. With the exception of an old chair, there was
no other furniture. This venerable relic I dragged towards
Mandara's bedside, after which we shook hands. He excused
himself for not rising on the ground that he was suffering
from severe pains in the legs. Spite of his fine Swahili shirt
the old wamor looked rather shabby, but his strongly-marked
swarthy face betrays an intelligence far superior to that of
the average negro, though from the curving nose and flashing
eye (Mandara has but one) it borrows something of a ferocious
expression. We eyed each other critically for some moments,
and I flattered myself he seemed even more favourably im-
pressed with my appearance than I was with his.

After the usual formal salutations and inquiries we pro-
ceeded to business. I informed the chief of my intention to
try to ascend the mountain, and he promised me his assistance
with all apparent readiness. But while I spoke, his mind was
evidently far from the subject, and his eye wandered rest-
lessly towards the packages in the background. At last
his impatient curiosity quite got the better of him, and he.
asked me bluntly what I had brought with me. The packages
were brought forward and unwrapped, and one after another
I produced pieces of red and blue cloth, silk coverlets, a
" golden diadem set with precious stones," a small telephone,
several masks with horrible grimaces, a suit of European
clothing, steel files and knives, a quantity of powder, some
medicines, and a number of other articles. In grandiloquent
language my first headman expatiated on the unexampled
virtues of the various gifts, and evoked from the recipient a
succession of gratified whistles. When my treasures were
exhausted IMandara asked me to give him a demonstration
with the telephone. Taking the one end in my hand I stepped
outside the door, and Avhispered along the wire that there

A MESSAGE THROUGH THE TELEPHONE. 97

was nothing I appreciated so much as a good juicy piece of
roast meat. " You have brought me a number of very fine
things from Uleia (Europe)," returned the chief, " and are
my honoured friend. But I still want some gin and a good
double-barrelled rifle, and above all a few cannon." For these
trifling extras I was obliged to refer him to the coming Im-
perial offering ; upon which he seemed quite satisfied, and we
parted the best of friends. Shortly after our return he sent
us, as a mark of favour, a fine young cow, though it must be
added that it was accompanied with a number of begging
requests for whisky, cigars, revolver-cartridges, lead pencils,
lacing shoes, a hat, and so forth.

I arrived at the station just in time to catch a splendid
view of the grand volcanic cone of Mount Meru as it broke
through the haze of the morning in the far west. Going on
with my observations as usual, I was much hindered and
annoyed by the incessant and shameless begging of a number
of natives, who crowded about me, arrayed, to their extreme
satisfaction, in nondescript garments of red flannel. Sud-
denly one of them extended his filthy paw, at the same time
pronouncing the German words, " Guten Tag." It turned out
that they were the envoys Mandara had sent to Berlin, and
who were now desirous of airing their European acquirements
in the presence of the right man. Unfortunately their con-
tact with civilisation has not improved them. Since their
return to Jagga they do nothing but give themselves airs,
and tyrannically lord it over those they are pleased to con-
sider their inferiors. They absolutely refuse to work, and
spend their time strutting about in their dirty flannels, worry-
ing: the life out of the missionaries and Dr. Abbott with their
perpetual begging.

Not being very successful with me, one of them, with a
broad grin, laid hands on a matchbox of Dr. Abbott's which

98 AT MAXDARA'S AXD MA RE ALE'S.

^^as lying on the table. Dr. Abbott did not seem to see the
little joke, however, and seizing the offender by the arm
soundly boxed his ears. Thereupon the whole pack fled
howling and vowing vengeance to Mandara. The vengeance
followed swift and sure. Mandara had not been on friendly
terms with Dr. Abbott for some time, the latter having met
the chief's continual demands for more plunder with a per-
sistent negative. Accordingly, towards midday, a body of
waniors appeared on the scene, drove away the Avomen who
had come to sell food, and, proceeding up the mountain,
turned off our water-supply. At the same time Mandara sent
me a special message to the effect that it was Dr. Abbott
whom he wanted to punish, not me. It was very kind of him
to say so, no doubt, but it Avouldn't bring food and water to
my men any more than to the other occupants of the station.

In the afternoon the men began to grumble loudly, and
Dr. Abbott set off to see what he could do to mollify the
offended chief Meanwhile I passed the time pleasantly
with Mr. Chanler, pacing the turf behind the house, and
listening to his account of his recent hunting expedition
on the plains to the north of Kilimanjaro. There the
parasitic cones that stud the south side of the mountain
are represented by a belt of marsh and small ponds, the
neighbourhood of which perfectly swarms with game. No
caravans visit it; only occasionally it is crossed by wandering
hordes of Masai, to whom the narroAv uninhabited forest zone
on the mountain-side above affords a suitable site for their
kraals, while their cattle find fresh pasture on the grassy
slopes. Our own observ^ations later on went to confirm Mr.
Chanler's remarks.

Dr. Abbott retunied towards evening. His tramp to
^landara's had proved of no avail, for the irate monarch had
refused to see him. "We had therefore to fall back on the

SUNSET ON KILIMANJARO. 99

Doctor for stores, and the men had to fetch water from the
nearest brook. Fortunately the Doctor was provisioned for
several weeks ahead.

My troubles were all forgotten, however, when towards
sunset the whole mountain for the first time unveiled itself
from head to foot. The resemblance which Kilimanjaro
bears to Etna, owing to its long, gradual slope upwards, and
apart, of course, from its double peak, is not so apparent
from Moji, because here Kibo occupies the foreground and
rises more abruptly than it does from Marangu. Mawenzi is
seen farther back to the north-east, while the foot of the
Kibo peak lies in a straight line about thirteen miles from
Moji. From Moji, which lies at a height of 4600 feet above
the sea, to the base of Kibo at 14,400 feet, the ground rises
at the rate of one foot in seven. From the base to the
summit the ascent is very much more rapid.

A more sublime spectacle could not be imagined than that
on which we gazed entranced, as, that evening, the clouds
parted and the mountain stood revealed in all its proud
serenity. The south-west side of the great ice-dome blushed
red in the splendour of the setting sun, while farther to the
east the snows of the summit lay in deep-blue shadow. Here
and there the glistening, mysterious mantle was pierced by
jagged points of dark-brown rock, as spots fleck the ermine
of a king. And surely never monarch wore his royal robes
more royally than this monarch of African mountains, Kilima-
njaro. His foot rests on a carpet of velvety turf, and through
the dark-green forest the steps of his throne reach downward
to the earth, where man stands awestruck before the glory
of his majesty. Art may have colours rich enough to fix one
moment of this dazzling splendour, but neither brush nor
pen can portray the unceasing play of colour — the wondrous
purples of the summit deepening as in the xllpine afterglow ;

100 AT MANDARA'S AXD MARE ALE'S.

the dull greens of the forest and the sepia shadows in the
ravines and hollows, growing ever darker as evening steals
on apace; and last, the gradual fading away of all, as the
sun sets, and over everything spreads the grey cloud-curtain
of the night. It is not a picture, but a pageant — a king
goes to his rest.

The unobstructed view of the mountain which we thus
obtained decided us not to attempt the ascent from this
more rugged and difficult side. AVe therefore resolved to
proceed as soon as possible to Marangu, whence in 1887 I
had ascended to the plateau at the saddle without encoun-
tering any obstacles worth mentioning.

Next morning, after a blowy night, during which the
minimum temperature was 43° F., I went down to Mandara's
accompanied by Herr Purtscheller and the Somal, in order to
try to induce the chief to restore our water-supply and let
the women carry on the market as usual. I took with me
a bottle of whisky, as being the one thing he had all along
especially demanded. Inside his dusky dwelling we found
the irate sovereign on his couch with two of his youngest
wives. On my appearance one of them w^ent aw^ay, but the
other remained where she was. I had no objections to make
to this breach of court etiquette ; I thought, indeed, that
a good deal might be gained by a little wifely intercession.
Nor was I disappointed. I began by trying to soothe Man-
dara's injured feelings by a liberal application of flattery and
" soft sawder ; " to this he grunted an unintelligible reply ;
but when I went on to appeal to the lady of his heart for
confirmation of my extravagant compliments, I saw at once
that I was on the way to victory, and the production of the
whisky-bottle finally carried the day. From his bed he imme-
diately gave orders that everything should be as I wished,
and only regretted that he could not leave the house to

A WORD OF CRITICISM. loi

see things put to rights himself. To his polite speeches I
returned a grateful '' Inshallah," which may just as easily
be translated " Praise be to God " as " So God wills."

I was much struck during the conversation to find that
when Mandara talks under the influence of strong excitement
he has a pronounced lisp. His expression seemed even more
fierce and cunning than on the day before. On the whole, I
was far from favourably impressed by him, and the opinion
I formed w^as shared by my companion, and by Dr. xibbott,
Mr. Chanler, and the missionaries, who ought to know him
best. If the earlier accounts of this native chief are true
and not biassed, then all I can say is, that in these latter days
he has altered very much for the worse. The arrogance of
the petty tyrant is only surpassed by his greed and covetous-
ness ; and there is no doubt that these vices have been
fostered and increased by the inordinate consideration he has
always been accustomed to receive at the hands of Europeans.
Mandara has for long been visited by Swahili caravans be-
cause he had always a supply of slaves at his disposal. As
we saw later on, he has turned the whole of north-western
Ugweno into a howling wilderness through his wars and
slave-raids, and in all the Jagga outbreaks he was always
the firebrand.

In the wake of the Swahili came the Europeans, and
Mandara was clever enough to perceive what a mine of
wealth the latter might prove to him, and did his best to keep
them in his territory as long as possible ; in this way it has
come about that this paltry chief has played a somewhat
important part in the history of the exploration of Kilima-
njaro. Nevertheless, as when he robbed the unarmed mis-
sionaiy, New, his true nature from time to time became too
strong for his customary politic amiability. Then the terms
he made, on ceding his kingly rights, first with General

I02 AT MAXDARA'S AXD MA RE ALE'S.

Matthews, and again a few weeks later with the representa-
tives of the German East African Company, who paid him
better, show clearly enough his reasons for the conclusion of
a treaty granting to a European Power a protectorate over
his dominions. True, the majority of such treaties have not
been concluded without some ulterior motive on the part of
the natives, but on that very account it was mistaken policy to
bring a body of the marauding Mandara's relatives to Berlin,
and there present them to the Emperor as " envoys of the
Sultan of Jagga." These indiscriminating savages were turned
loose in the capital for a few days in order that they might feast
their eyes on all the wonders of European civilisation, and
become impressed with the idea of the greatness of Germany,
only to return to their native land not one whit the wiser
for all they had seen. How they behave themselves since
they have once more become established there has already
been described. The way to impress natives with our great-
ness and our power is not to take them out of Africa to show
them Germany, but to bring Germany to them in their native
land, as it were, and in some form intelligible to their crude
understanding. It is almost a certainty that the gifts sent
by the Emperor will only sen-e to increase Mandara's arrogant
pretensions. In the case of powerful native sovereigns, such
as those of Uganda, Lunda, and elsewhere, such favours may
have a good and far-reaching effect ; but with a small potentate
like Mandara, whose dominions have an area of not more
than thirty square miles, and whose subjects number about
three thousand, they only do harm. Let us hope that the
career of the infirm and aged chief of Jagga is almost run.
In the western states he has been ousted by the brave and
energetic Sinna of Kiboso, and in the east he is threatened by
a second powerful rival, the young and honourable Mareale,
chief of Marangu.

IRRIGATION CHANNELS. 103

I returned to the station by a roundabout way, in order to
have a better opportunity of seeing the natives at work in the
fields. Their methods are much the same as those in vogue
at Marangu. On every ridge and hollow, and along the
banks of every stream, men, women, and children alike were
busy with hoe and mattock preparing the ground for the
sowing of maize, millet, and beans, and the planting of
tobacco, bananas, and sugar-cane, at the commencement of
the approaching wet season. With the utmost care the
plantations are cleared of all old roots and stumps, and the
artificial irrigation channels thoroughly repaired where neces-
sary. Outside the clearings the Mkindu palm {Phoenix)
flourishes luxuriantly. It is the only species of palm indi-
genous to the region. As Kilimanjaro is plentifully supplied
with water throughout the year, the tilling of the soil is not
QönfijTed to the rainy season only. Moreover, any deficiency
of moisture that may here and there exist is amply remedied
by the irrigation channels, and plants such as the banana
and sugar-cane, which ripen irrespective of the dry season,
are cultivated all the year round. Tobacco, pulse, and cereals
ripen only in the dry season, however, and they must there-
fore be sown out during the rains.

The art of constructing these irrigation channels, which
keep the springing seed supplied with moisture during sow-
ing-time, is among the most wonderful to be found among
tribes like the Wa-jagga, in a comparatively backward stage
of civilisation. As the channels of the streams grow deeper
and deeper in their course downhill, it becomes more and
more impossible for the fields that occupy the upper slopes
of the valleys to derive any benefit from the flowing water.
To remedy this evil, canals or trenches are dug along these
uplying fields, and are connected with the upper course of
the streams at points lying at the desired level, the Avater

I04 AT MAXDARA'S AND MA RE ALE'S.

being thus more evenly distributed. The decision of quarrels
arising out of the joint-proprietorship of these imgation
channels is one of the weightiest duties of the chief. Some-
times it happens in the dry season that the water is all carried
off by the canals and the stream itself is exhausted before it
reaches the plains, to be a fruitful source of disappointment
to the weaiT traveller, who approaches it hoping to find the
wherewithal to slake his thirst.

The fable that in tropical lands the natives have nothing
to do but sit under the trees and let the ripe fiuits drop into
their mouths could not have originated in Jagga. The field-
labourer in Europe wins his daily bread easily compared with
the less fortunate Jagga negroes.

In the afternoon I bought some small capes made of
hyrax skins, of a style fonnerly much in vogue, and two long
>5;^5pears of the most modem nan'ow-bladed pattern, which were
Nquite works of art. Fashion varies even in Wa-jagga spears.
"When I was here in 1887, spears with long broad blades were
all the rage ; now they are all narrow and with blunt points.
The long heaA'}" spears generally spoken of as characteristic of
Jagga only came in with the introduction of European iron
w^ire. Up to that time the spears were universally small and
short, like those still in use in the outlying districts of Kilima-
njaro (Rombo, Useri, ^lajame, &c.). The price of a large spear
is a percussion-gun, and only in exceptional instances are other
goods taken in exchange.

While I was haggling over my bargain, news was brought
that once more our stream was in full flow. Hard upon
the heels of the messenger came another from Mandara to
ask whether we considered the water worth one bottle of
, brandy or two, brandy being the only remedy for the pains in
his legs. We were of opinion that some glass beads would
be equally efficacious, and sent a few accordingly. The

yiOJI TO MARAXGU. 105

Berlin "' envoys " had not ventured to put in an appearance
again since Abbott's rough-and-ready lesson in discipline.

On the evening of the-,24ih_S£j2lember we made our pre-
parations for the march to Marangu on the following morning,
and at night we had a small adventure with a leopard which x\ ^\

had been making tracks for the hen-house. Before the sun
had risen over Mawenzi we were on the march once more,
our faces towards the east, with a parting promise from Dr.
Abbott that he would soon pay us a visit in Marangu,

The path from Moji to Marangu runs east through the
Jagga states of Kiriia and Kilema at a height of about
4600 feet. Between Moji and Kiriia runs a deep ravine ;
between Kiriia and Kilema is the long ridge of Lasso, which
extends from Mawenzi all the way to the plains ; between
Kilema and Marangu there is only the narrow Mue stream.
On our left rise the cloudy heights of Kilimanjaro ; on the
right, below us, stretches the broad brown expanse of Kahe.

For the first two hours we traversed the undulating
grounds of upper Moji, which are not so deeply furrowed
by streams as the region below. Then, quitting the fields
and plantations, we struck a narrow bridle-path, and began
to descend the steep walls of the ravine between Moji and
Kinia, at the bottom of which foamed and tumbled the
Nganga rivulet. The wreaths of rising mist, the clumps of
bushes, the precipitous slopes of Kiriia, on which from time
to time, as the mist for a moment lifted, we could distinguish
broad patches of forest — these, with the noisy torrent and
the temperature of 60° F., strongly recalled scenes in the Harz
or Tyrol.

We had not proceeded far when we were met by a long
procession of female slaves belonging to the chief of Kiriia,
on their way to market in Moji with a quantity of beans.
Our guide, a worthy representative of his chief, Mandara,

io6 AT MAXDARA'S AND MA RE ALES.

profited by the delay occasioned by the meeting to make off
with his advance-money (eight arm-lengths '' of white cloth)
under cover of the mist, leaving us to find our way to ^lareale's
as best we might. By this time the mist had become
a fine drizzle, and the steep pathway was so slippery as to
be positively dangerous. The porters, hampered with their
heavy loads, were constantly slipping and sliding ; scarcely
one of them escaped a fall. At length we reached the
stream, already much swollen with the rain, and wading
across, began the breakneck ascent towards Kiriia. Here the
state of the path was worse than ever, and the men had a
terribly hard time of it. At one place I myself had a nasty
fall, and broke a thermometer, which unfortunately could not
be replaced.

Once at the top. Me had to wait a considerable time before
the whole caravan had straggled in. Among the surround-
ing vegetation I noticed wild mignonette, several species of
ferns, and a number of small dracaenas. Before us stretched
the cultivated fields of Kirua, bananas, as in Moji, occu-
pying the higher ridges, yams and sweet potatoes the hollows
and valleys. The same system of irrigation by means of
artificial channels is also practised, and is greatly facili-
tated by the unusual number of streams which intersect the
district. As a rule, the huts and gardens of the inhabitants
are enclosed by well-kept hedges. As we passed along,
the natives at work in the fields greeted us with polite and
friendly salutations, contrasting strongly with the forward
manners of the spoiled people of Moji.

Kidungadi, the chief of Kiriia, lives at some distance down
the mountain. Leaving his dwelling on the right, we made
our way slowly upwards along the cultivated slopes to the

* Arm-length = English cubit, or the length from the elbow to the forefinger,
usually reckoned at i8 inche?. — Tr.

ARRIVAL IX MARAXGU. 107

ridge-like hill of Lasso, the crest of which was reached at
midday. A charming prospect met our eyes. Before and
beneath us, over an extent of many square miles, the whole
country was one vast banana grove, sloping gently down-
wards from the forest zone to the plains, and bounded on
the east by the hills of Msai and Eombo. It is divided
into the states of Kilema, Marangu, Mamba, Mwika, and
Msai, the boundaries of which are marked by various streams
and rivulets. The only conspicuous break in all the soft
expanse of green is a brick-red parasitic cone, near the
summit of which Fumbo, chief of Kilema, has planted his
snug little village. Farther east, in Marangu, the large new
residence of Mareale is visible through the glass, its white flag
fluttering in the breeze.

Having crossed the Mue, we continued our way for an
hour under the shady bananas of Kilema and entered the
domain of Mareale, after fording the river Ngona a short
way above a point where it forms a fine waterfall, the sound
of which was distinctly audible, though the fall itself was
unseen.

In order to salute my old friend worthily, all the men were
ordered to have their guns in readiness for a volley, and two
of the Somal were sent ahead to announce our arrival. As
I walked along my blood tingled with pleasurable excitement.
For the first time I seemed to realise how much I had grown
to love this little spot of earth in the pleasant days I had
spent among its hospitable people two years before. I was
familiar with its every hut — in every passer-by I recognised
an old acquaintance. Soon we were met by messengers from
Mareale, who in the name of their chief bade us heartily
welcome. Then amid a volley from a hundred guns (the
contents of one of which, unfortunately, was by accident
lodged in my faithful Ahmed's shoulder), we took possession

I o8 AT MA XDA RA 'S A ND MA RE A LE'S.

of a meadow suiTounded by trees, and pitched our camp.
My old camping-ground was already occupied by the huts
of a Swahili caravan.

We had just had time to erect the tents, Mhen the
shouting of the natives announced the approach of Mareale
and his small escort. His proud carriage and stately walk
proclaim him at once the chief of the realm. With kind-
ling eyes and a joyful smile of greeting he stepped forward
to meet me. " Yamho, yamho, Dakta Maya, yamho sana;
umefika sasa, iihalli ganif" ("Welcome, welcome, Dr.
Meyer ; you are most heartily welcome. So you have come at
last ! How are you ? ") was his friendly salutation. We shook
hands long and heartily, after which I gave him a brief
account of my journey thither and of my plans for the future.
" I am so glad to hear what you tell me," he said. " You will
have to be with us some time, and I hope we shall see a great
deal of each other. But you must be tired ; I shall leave you
now to rest. To-morrow you must come and see my new
house." I promised readily, and amid renewed hand-shakings
and Yamho sanas he took his departure. It was a very
different reception to that we had met with at Mandara's.

In the few minutes he had been in camp, Mareale had
quite won the hearts of Ilerr Purtscheller and all my men,
and, spite of the fatigues of the day, they entered heartily
into the festivities consequent on the killing of the goat of
welcome. And they had every need of a good feast, for
they had to spend the night without shelter, and were
thoroughly drenched by heavy torrents of rain. The first
thing in the morning, therefore, they set to work to build
huts, and soon our camping-ground was dotted with some
fourteen little rustic habitations, one for each mess, made
from the huge bundles of banana leaves that had been
brought to the spot by the native women. A neat and

Mareale, Chief of Marangu.

JACK OF ALL TRADES. 109

busy little village had sprung from the ground as if by
magic. In the middle, a large space under a shady tree
was reserved for the market-place, and across that side of
the field occupied by the tents of the Europeans and Somdl
a fence was made, dividing their quarters from those of the
men.

While all this was being done, Herr Purtscheller and I
were busy selecting our presents for Mareale. It is almost
ludicrous to think of the number of things a man must be
able to do, be, and comprehend before he can be the suc-
cessful leader of an African scientific expedition ; and it
is not less wonderful what dormant faculties and qualities
are awakened and developed by the exigencies of the
explorer's life, the existence of which would never have
been suspected under ordinary conditions. That he must be
geologist, zoologist, botanist, ethnologist and meteorologist ;
astronomer, photographer and cartographer ; artist, engineer,
sportsman and physician ; diplomatist, strategist and political
economist ; merchant, gunmaker, carpenter, tailor, shoemaker,
blacksmith, cook, and a hundred other things, is, of course,
understood ; but I never dreamt I should have to fit together
a sewing-machine, and give lessons in working it, until I
found it out in making up that present for Mareale.

As soon as the machine was in working order we packed
our miscellaneous assortment of cloth, beads, watches, revol-
vers, silk coverlets, bracelets, files, tea, concertinas, false-faces,
bells, powder, shot and tobacco pipes, and set out to return
Mareale's call. What formerly had been an open space in
front of his very unpretending hut was now enclosed by a
castellated stone wall about twelve feet high, with a single low
and narroAv opening. Within the court so formed stood the
huts of Mareale's wives and children, and beside them a
handsome house in the coast style, with a gable roof. The

1 10 AT MA XDA RA 'S A XD MA REALES.

interior was divided into several apartments, comfortably fur-
nished as sitting and bed rooms, partly with Indian and partly
with European furniture. The only objection was that owing
to the entu'e absence of windows all the rooms were pitch dark,
what light there Avas being supplied by a smoky fire in the
middle of the floor. The house had been built for Mareale by
Swahili, whose labour was paid out of the slaves and cattle
taken by the chief in a recent war with Rombo, one of the
larger Jagga states.

With his usual amiability Mareale came out to receive us.
He was dressed in a beautiful Arab burnous, worn over a
Swahili tunic, and his head was covered with a crimson
turban. Banana beer was immediately produced, and after
pledging each other repeatedly out of the same gourd, we
displayed our presents. These were admired to our heart's
content ; but the delight reached its climax when I showed
my skill with the sewing-machine. " I like this needle-
drum [ngoma ma shindano) better than my house and all its
belongings put together," exclaimed the chief. " Mandara
has a Swahili house as well as I have ; but nobody has
anything like this in the whole of Jagga," and as a partial
proof of the sincerity of his gratification he at once ordered
a fine fat cow to be sent to our camp.

Like women everywhere, his wives and female slaves
{surias), who had been looking on with eager curiosity, were
mostly taken up with the ornaments. In 1887 Mareale's
chief wife was a daughter of Mandara's, whom he had bought
from her father for a hundred oxen, and who ruled the roost
more by reason of her birth than of her beauty. Now the
reigning favourite was a nice-looking young girl of sixteen.
But the former sultanas were all present, and were immensely
flattered to find that I recognised them again. I showed
them the photograph I had of them, and vainly endeavoured

WA-jfAGGA WARRIORS. in

to make them understand its meaning. Mareale alone
recognised his likeness, and greeted it with a jubilant mimi
menyeive (" me ! me ! "), another proof of his remarkable
intelligence for a negro, he being the only one I ever met
who seemed capable of even faintly grasping the true nature
of a photograph.

Everything about the house and in the fields bore the
stamp of the wise, personal superintendence of the master, and
the loving respect with which he was universally looked up
to by his subjects showed that as a ruler Mareale was both
firm and just. There was nothing like this in Moji.

On the turf before the entrance to the court some twenty
or more armed men lay, squatted, or stood, according to the
whim of the moment. They were partly warriors on duty ;
partly Masai elders {el morüa) who had been exchanging
cattle for iron wire ; partly envoys from the neighbouring
states of Rombo and Useri, with presents for the chief of
Marangu. The warriors were not in full war array, the
feather headdress, kidskin mantle, and leg ornaments being
absent ; but they were still the most conspicuous figures in
the group, with their splendid spears and freshly-greased hair,
which they wear in a mop of twisted tails falling both over
the forehead and down the neck. Th'^ long w^'^d^n enr-
st retcher, a nd the large rou nd .jgondpn ph3.g--^rfthpfl through
the lobe of the ear, they wear in common with the people
of Rombo and Useri, and, as is the custom throughout the
whole of Jagga, the upper incisors are filed to a point, and the
two middle lower ones broken out altogether. The conversa-
tion is loud rather than copious. Sometimes it takes the
form of a harangue, the speaker standing up and emphasis-
ing his words with his short club, while his audience squat
around at his feet, and never once interrupt the flowing
periods. Sometimes it takes the form of an argument

112 AT MAXDARA'S AND MA RE ALE'S.

between two, and again the audience is silently attentive.
The points are driven home with the exclamation, " Somi-
riali ! " which, being interpreted, means, " By the chief
Mareale ! " — So meaning chief. In language and gesture
they are nearly all born orators, and those who are not,
mostly acquire the art through constantly listening to so
much public speaking.

The group of idlers squatting round are not unworthy of
notice, if only for the peculiar attitude they assume. With
their knees drawn up to their chin, and their noses buried in
their garments, which they huddle about them for the sake of
greater warmth, they look like so many Peruvian mummies.
The arms and hands being wrapped up in the folds, cannot
be used for gesticulation ; hence they endeavour to supply
its place by the most extraordinary facial contortions and
grimaces. The tongue, and not the forefinger, is used to
point with.

■ Upon the whole, the natives of Marangu are the most
lively in the group. The strangers from Rombo and Useri,
whose lives have not fallen in quite such pleasant places, are
the most taciturn.

As with Useri, Mareale also maintains friendly relations
with the larger western states of Jagga — Uru-Salika, Majam^,
and Moji — Mandara being at once his father-in-law and
brother-in-law. At the same time he has not joined the
league formed by the chiefs of these states and their depend-
encies against Sinna of Kiboso. In small semi-barbaric states,
peace and war alike depend purely on the will and self-
interest of the ruling despot. In Jagga, which includes the
whole of the inhabited and cultivated zone on the southern
and eastern flanks of Kilimanjaro, there are over twenty
such states, and the chiefs in one district are constantly
leaguing themselves together to make war upon those of

INTERNECINE FEUDS. 113

another. By war, of course, is not to be understood pitched
battles and organised fighting. As a general rule the aim of
the assailants is to make a surprise raid upon the enemy's
territory, and take away the inhabitants as slaves. The huts
are plundered and burned down, and the cattle driven off
as the most valuable part of the spoil, but no deliberate
injury is done to the plantations.

Surprises of this kind are not frequent, however. The
system of placing guards is very well understood, and any
vulnerable points along the boundary lines are fortified by
deep trenches. On the first approach of danger the alarm is
at once given, whereupon the defenders immediately muster,
if they can, in superior numbers to the invaders ; when this
occurs the enemy discreetly withdraws. If the defenders
are not strong enough to resist, they betake themselves to
the woods and lie in hiding till the danger has passed over.
There is very seldom any bloodshed.

After a successful fray, the victors return home rejoicing,
and await the time when the vanquished shall seek revenge.
If no revenge is attempted, then the conqueror returns to the
attack again and again until there is nothing left worth carry-
ing away, or until such time as the conquered are content to
purchase peace by the payment of so much tribute. Rombo
had come to terms with Mareale in the former way, Mamba
in the latter.

When two adjoining states are at war with each other all
communication with the states beyond is completely cut ofi".
Neutral parties must either take the path running along the
east and south sides of Kilimanjaro at the base of the moun-
tain, or the more difficult track above the forest zone, with
which every state in Jagga is connected by a separate by-path.
I and my men have at different times been obliged to make

use of both.

114

AT MANDARA'S AND MA RE ALE'S.

The total extent of Jagga is about five hundred square
miles. Proceeding from east to west, the names of the various
states and their approximate populations are as follows : —

Useri . . .

. 6000

Rombo . . .

. 5000

Mwika .

• 500

Msai . . .

• 500

Mamba .

. 500

^Marangu . .

. 3000

Kilema . .

. 2000

Kirua ....

1000

Kombo ....

500

]\roji ....

3000

Kindi and Moika

500

Pokomo

1000

Xaruma

500

Tlru-Salika

3000

Majamö

8000

Uru-Salue . . .

2000

Shira . . . .

1000

Kiboso (Lam-

Kibonoto . . .

1000

bungu) . . .

6000

Wroui . . . .

1000

Total, 46,000.

The huts are of the familiar bee-hive shape. Every
household has its own little group of two or three, which,
together with a granary, occupy a small court surrounded by
a stout palisade, the whole lying snugly ensconced in the
midst of the owner's banana plantation. The only resemblance
to a house, in the usual sense, is Mareale's own abode. After
mamage, the sons as a rule continue to live in the same hut
with their father, as long as there is room for the gradually
increasing family. Allowing an average often persons, includ-
ing slaves and grandparents, to each dwelling, the number of
huts in Jagga may be reckoned at 4600.

According to the above calculation, the population is in
the ratio of about ninety-two inhabitants to the square mile ;
but the fertility of the soil is so great that it could easily sup-
port double or triple that number, if the whole region were
united under a capable ruler. If this condition is not
realised, the probability is that the energetic and far-seeing
Sinna of Kiboso will absorb the smaller states in the west ;
whereupon Mareale will be more than likely to follow his
example in the east.

Judging from his previous history, Mareale is not a man
likely to remain in statu quo. His father was chief of
Marangu before him, but died when his son was only a year

MAREALE'S CAREER. 115

and a half old. Thereupon the power was usurped by an
uncle, and Mareale and his mother were banished. His
childhood and early youth were spent partly in Moji with
Mandara, partly in Kiboso with the father of Sinna. When
barely twenty he headed a raid of the Wa-Kiboso against
Marangu, and though he did not succeed in taking his uncle
prisoner, he drove off all the cattle, and proved beyond a
doubt that he was made of the right stuff.

But Mareale had " a friend at court " in the person of a
younger brother, whom the uncle had not thought it worth
while to send into exile. By secret machinations, this
brother obtained for Mareale a numerous following in the
state, and in the end the uncle was ousted and the rightful
heir recalled. Immediately Mareale set about strengthening
his position by a marriage with Mandara's daughter, and
enriched his exchequer by successful raids upon Eombo and
by trade with the Swahili caravans. After a while the
brother who had so befriended him began to indulge his
revolutionary tendencies by plotting against Mareale him-
self. He died mysteriously, having in all probability been
stabbed by the chief's orders.

It is not at all impossible that some time in the future
Mareale may have to take the field against his amiable father-
in-law or a combination of rival states. It is " the custom of
the country," Mandara himself having been repeatedly com-
pelled to quit his domains and remain in hiding till the
enemy had completed the work of plunder. Mareale, how-
ever, is not one to take a defeat quietly, or tamely brook any
interference with his authority.

Our camp presents a lively scene evei7 morning before the
natives go to the fields, and again late in the afternoon, when
the hard work of the day is over. With piled-up baskets and

1 16 A r MA XDA RA 'S A XD MA RE A LE'S.

bulky loads the women and girls troop in with provisions for
sale, and take up their position under the shady tree in the
midst of the enclosure. The women sit upon the ground with
legs outstretched straight in front of them, or remain standing,
perhaps the better to carry on their incessant chatter. The
girls, with bright, inquisitive eyes, get behind each other in
twos and threes, giggling and laughing. The foremost stands
with her arms crossed over her naked breast, the rest come
pressing close upon each other, each with an arm about the
waist or the neck of the one immediately in front. There is
a varied assortment of edibles for sale : bananas, ripe for eating,
and unripe for cooking, and also bananas in the form of flour ;
three varieties of beans and green vegetables : maize in grain
and in the cob ; millet whole or ground ; sweet potatoes, large
and small ; curdled milk and butter ; leaf tobacco, honey and
fowls. Sheep and cows are not included in the articles of
merchandise, for, in virtue of his position, all the cattle belong
to Mareale, who grants the nominal owners the right to use
the milk and butter. Meat is reserved solely for the chief's
own table, and cannot be purchased except from him. There
is plenty to choose from in the way of vegetable food, however,
and my men are as keen at a bargain as the native women.
The transaction opens with the word " iiihuia " (friend), the
common Jagga salutation. The Swahili then names an absurdly
low price for the article on sale, and is of course indignantly
refused. He goes away, and comes back again, ten, twenty
times, always offering a little more and a little more, and
flourishing his tempting beads and bits of cloth. By degrees
the two parties come within measurable distance of a mutual
understanding, and then commences the process of sampling.
The buyer tastes and tries, the seller handles and examines.
Friends are called in to give their opinion and advice, and at
length, eveiT one being satisfied, the bargain is concluded.

JAGG A CURRENCY. 117

For many years the favourite currency in Jagga, as else-
where throughout Central Africa, has been the broad white
cotton cloth known to the natives as nguo. This cloth is
usually made up in doti of eight arm-lengths, but the AVa-
Jagga reckon the doti at ten arm-lengths, or sufficient for a
whole garment, which they throw around the person like
a toga. When it comes to the question of measuring, the
purchaser of course requests the good offices of the tallest of
the bystanders, who invariably does his best to " cabbage "
for his friend by drawing the cloth each time a little above the
elbow. Bandera, the red cotton cloth, is only worn by the
chiefs or their relatives on great occasions. As small coin,
small blue and red beads are most in demand. These are
sewn by the women on thick circular bands of leather, and
worn as ornaments round the neck and wrists. The beads
are all made in Venice, and are put up in bunches, each
bunch containing ten twists, and each twist ten strings of
a hundred each, the only form in which they are accepted in
barter.

The following table shows the value of the more common
native products, expressed in terms of cloth and beads : —

A cow . =12 doti of 10 arm-lengths.

A goat . = 3 „

A sheep . = 4 ., ,, ,,

A small fowl = 2 doti = 3 twists of beads of 10 strings eacii.

20 bananas (unripe)

I arm-length = i twist of beads.

10 „ (ripe)

2 pints of millet

3 „ beans

4 ,, maize

10 sweet potatoes (medium size) = i twist of beads.
2 pints of milk

2 lbs. of butter .
I load of firewood

1 packet of tobacco (6 lbs.)

2 pints of honey .

= 5 arm-lengths.
- I twist of beads.
^ 8 arm-lengths.
= li doti.

1 1 8 AT MA NDA RA 'S --1 ND MA RE A LE'S.

Blackberries, tomatoes, spinage, and the like are gathered
in the woods by the children, and may be had at nominal
prices. I had to make special terms for our milk and butter,
in order to have the cows milked into our own vessels and
the butter churned in our own churn. I had never been able
to get over my prejudice in favour of calabashes cleansed with
w'ater instead of rinsed out with cow urine, as is the unso-
phisticated custom of Jagga.

IMilk is obtained principally from the small, short-horned,
humped cows ; that of the goats and of the fat-tailed sheep,
with their ram-like noses and heavy dewlaps (vide Illustra-
tion), being but seldom used. Neither the goat's milk nor the
goat's flesh have the characteristic "high" European flavour.
As in Taveta, for the sake of safety the cattle are all stall-fed.

One of the special delicacies we enjoyed in Jagga was a
sort of thin pancake made of maize and millet flour mixed,
and cooked in butter, the art of making which our cook had
learned at Dr. xVbbott's. They were so deliciously light and
crisp that we had them at every meal.

Mareale came to see me every day, sometimes in the
morning, sometimes in the afternoon. Comfortably installed
in my arm-chair, he was never tired of talking to me about
Jagga, Zanzibar, and Europe, though I am afraid that as
yet the last is somewhat of a "dark continent" to him.
If a new-comer arrived during the interview, before squat-
ting with his comrades he first saluted the friend he had
come to visit, then Mareale's followers, and lastly the chief
himself. Rarely did Mareale leave me without taking away
some small souvenir of the visit, such as a pencil, one or two
needles, or some such trifle. It was quite a pleasure to see
his child-like delight over these insignificant presents ; and
as soon as he received them, he hurried ofi* home without
stopping to say good-bye.

LIFE IN MARANGU. 119

Usually in the evening some of the Swahili and Somäl
from the adjacent camp of the slave-dealers would come for
an hour or two's gossip with my men, among whom they had
a number of old acquaintances. As a rule, I went for a
ramble in the neighbourhood, accompanied only by a single
follower. To be alone with Nature, even for a little w^hile,
is a rare privilege amid the incessant hum and bustle of
caravan-life ; every day and all day long one has to be
constantly answering questions and giving directions, or
tolerating, with the best grace possible, the irritating curiosity
of the natives, which is specially tiresome when one 'is
absorbed in taking an observation or trying to work out a
calculation. And early evening or late afternoon is the best
time for the heights of Kilimanjaro. Then clear against the
evening sky, above the grey layers of stratus which veil
the mountain midway to the summit, rise the great wdiite
dome of Kibo and the dark jagged peak of Mawenzi, while
backwards, against the sombre setting of the southern
plains, the rugged outlines of Ugw^eno glow like gold in the
setting sun.

The arrangements for a prolonged stay in camp were
soon completed. Within the compound, and not far from
the men's quarters, were erected two large huts, one as
a store-house, the other for the man in charge of the
goods. Near these was a smaller hut for the Somal, and
a shed for cooking in, and behind these again a small
garden, in which the seeds of lettuce, radish, cress, and
spinage we had brought with us from Zanzibar soon began
to sprout.

By the end of five days everything was so far in order
that I proceeded to equip a small party for the ascent of the
mountain. Selecting from among the porters a few of the
hardiest and most willing, I set them to work to make warm

I20 AT MANDARA'S AND MA RE ALE'S.

clothing, and explained to them as thoroughly as possible
what they had to expect. I was ably seconded by two of
the number who had accompanied me to the upper forest
zone in 18S7. By the rest of the men these embryo explorers
were regarded as heroes, an honour which seemed to please
them immensely.

The day before our departure we held a grand impromptu
" at home." The first arrival was Mareale, who brought with
him his friend the chief of Mamba. As the latter did not
bring me the usual present, I let him depart without giving
him any, to Mareale's unconcealed satisfaction. Next, in great
state, came Mareale's mother — a tall, dignified-looking old
lady, unfortunately somewhat addicted to the bottle. She was
accompanied by a large following of not bad-looking girls, and
I made her and them happy by the present of a tobacco-pipe
and a large piece of red cloth. Later on, Mareale returned
with his small trading caravan, which had just come back
from the coast bringing iron wire, cloth, and salt, and, as a
souvenir to the chief from his European friends in Mombaza,
a fine field-glass. A great step in advance this, that Mareale
should himself begin to send caravans coastward.

In the afternoon the firing of guns to the west of the
camp and a joyous hubbub of voices announced the arrival
of a friend. It proved to be Mr. Chanler, now on his way
home from Moji to Taveta. He stayed with us overnight,
and greatly delighted me with his spirited account of his
achievements and his plans, and with his keen insight
into African afiairs. Many of our colonial wiseacres might
envy the energy and tact which has enabled this youth
of twenty-three, with a still more youthful companion,
to lead a caravan of 180 men into regions as yet totally
unexplored.

After Mr. Chanler's departure next morning there was

EXCELSIOR !

121

no longer any reason why we should delay our start. The
f season of the year made it imperative that not a day should
be lost. Already we had heavy showers every night, and
the daily rains were not far off. There was no time to lose.
Now and till our task was accomplished our motto must be
Excelsior !

JAGGA SHEEP AM) GOATS.

CLIMBING TACKLE.

CHAPTER IV.

TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

In former attempts to ascend Kilimanjaro,
the main difficnlty was not so much the lack
of suitable equipments as the impos-
sibility of obtaining, at the higher
altitudes, a supply of food sufficient
to last during the prolonged stay neces-
saiy to a thorough survey of the more
inaccessible heights.

Profiting by my experiences of 1887,
I resolved to establish a station on the
small plateau lying between the two
peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi, at a
height of 14,400 feet, from which I
could accomplish the ascent and explo-
ration of the mountain at my leisure.
For this purpose I had provided myself
in Zanzibar with a small, well-made
tent, in place of the one lost at Aden. It
was large enough to accommodate Herr Purt-
scheller and myself, with a black attendant
if necessary, and was furnished with a water-
proof indiarubber ground-sheet, a plentiful
supply of camel's-hair blankets, and two large
sheepskin sleeping sacks, which enveloped
the entire person all but the face.

Sta.25 '

nu^-

Aufod

^\ie^s Notch

.5. i^rA ,J4G70 j^ujl

^'>i:'-

•if'

^«

ElTi«L"MTijes.

KIBO

a.PIinJI'&- SON, LONDON AND LmsRPOOL

MOUNTAINEERING OUTFIT. 123

Our outfit consisted of warm woollen clothing and gloves,
strong Alpine boots, knapsacks, ice-axes, Manilla rope, snow-
spectacles, and veils. HeiT Purtscheller was also the happy
possessor of a pair of climbing-irons, but mine had gone
on to Ceylon with the tent. Our scientific instruments in-
cluded a theodolite, a boiling-point thermometer, an aneroid,
a maximum-minimum thermometer, compasses for taking
bearings and making route-surveys, and the photographic
apparatus, together with everything needful for preserving
geological and botanical specimens.

In case of accidents, and also in order that we might be
kept regularly and sufficiently provisioned, I deemed it advis-
able to erect, between the camp at Marangu's and that at the
plateau, an intermediate station or half-way camp at the upper
limit of the forest zone. Here we left the large tent and our
picked body of attendants with the exception of one. Arrange-
ments were made that every third day four of the Marangu
men should proceed with meat, beans, bananas, butter and
bread to the intermediate station, and that two of the men
stationed there should thence convey our share to us in the
upper camp, each relay returning immediately afterwards to
its respective starting-point. My plans succeeded so well
that in little more than three weeks we had achieved the
ascent of the mountain, and completed our observations and
explorations in the region of the summit.

The-dayuDf-Our jdeparture for the higher zones (September
28) was preceded by a night of thunder and lightning accom- U-
panied by torrents of rain, which soaked through all the huts ^y"
and tents with the exception of the large one, and obliged us
to spend the morning in drying our clothes and provisions. \k

Unfortunately, the meat which I had caused to be cut into '^

strips and smoked shared the fate of our other stores, an
accident which did not tend to improve its flavour. Never-

124 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

theless we liad it dried again, and later on were very glad
to get it.

The little expedition was not fairly under weigh until
nearly midday. Besides ourselves, it included the two head-
men, nine porters, i\lwini Amani of Pangani, and the Somal
Mohammed, Abdallah, and Ahmed, of whom the last was
to act as cook. The large tent accompanied us, ready to be
set up on reaching its destination. A code of rules had been
drawn up for the benefit of those of the caravan who remained
behind at Marangu under the command of Ali, the faithful
Somal captain, and the guardianship of Mareale, -who promised
to keep a watchful eye upon them. Nevertheless I set out
in anything but an easy frame of mind, for I had learned
from former experience, on similar occasions, that my absence
was likely to prove the beginning of all sorts of irregularities,
such as might endanger the welfare of the -whole expedition.
Events showed that my fears had not been groundless.

Mareale had promised us two guides, but by the time
we were ready to start only one had put in an appearance ;
the other was to follow in the evening.

At a steady pace we began to ascend the mountain, the
path sloping gently upwards under cool, shady banana groves,
or through patches of open grass-land, kept green and fresh
by many a murmuring brook and gliding water-channel.
Looking upwards towards the spot where the Monjo stream
falls in a foaming cataract over a ledge of basalt, we had a
passing peep of a group of huts where last year Dr. Abbott
and his caravan made a stay of several months, but they were
now deserted and left to the mercy of wind and weather.
Beyond these, from one of a series of hillocks, we had a
magnificent view of the whole suiTOunding country. There
were no rugged outlines anywhere, only a succession of gentle
undulations, stretching far away below us and to the right

THE START. 125

and left, in a sea of tender green, relieved by a wealth of
flowers and bush and clustering masses of bananas. Far in
the haze of distance Lake Jipe glittered like a silver shield
beneath the dim blue outlines of the mountains of Ugweno
and Pare, while towards the west the view across the steppes
was intercepted by the long wooded line of the Lasso hills,
from the summit of which we obtained the first glimpse of this
favoured land as we crossed them on our way from Moji.
Following the Lasso hills upward towards the higher slopes
of Kilimanjaro, the eye lost itself in the mist-wreaths of the
forest zone and the dark-grey cloud-cap so seldom lifted from
the mountain's sombre brow.

As we ascended, the barometer continued to fall, and at
length indicated an altitude of about 5570 feet as we left
the last banana plantation behind us and entered the region
of ferns and shrubs, which passes over into the belt of primeval
forest.

As on a former occasion (1887), our guide tried hard to per-
suade us to camp in this very inviting neighbourhood, although
it was still comparatively early ; but now, as then, I turned
a deaf ear to all his representations, and after a short rest
pushed onward and upward to where the forest loomed
ahead. The guide protested volubly and forcibly, and capered
about like a madman ; but we paid no heed to his frantic
demonstrations, and left him to follow when he should have
danced himself back to his ordinaiy senses.

The path was now almost lost in a tangle of vegetation,
which proved a severe trial to the strength and patience of
our somewhat weary porters. As we struggled on, we were
met by a number of Marangu natives, in a state of absolute
nudity. They were laden with huge bundles of firewood,
and they told us, amid great excitement, that they had just
seen four elephants close at hand. We ourselves saw nothing

126 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

of them, however, perhaps because our attention was wholly
absorbed in picking our steps, so as to avoid falling into
one of the numerous elephant traps with which our way
was beset, and which consist of a pit about twenty feet
deep, concealed by a layer of ferns. In spite of the utmost
care, I only escaped coming to grief in one by a hair's
breadth.

The belt of bush and ferns through which we were now
pressing is not so much the result of climatic conditions as of
the periodical burning to which the vegetation is subjected
by the Wa-Jagga, who in this way secure fresh ground for
cultivation. This opinion is corroborated by the fact that in
patches to which the blaze has not extended, the charac-
teristic forms of the forest zone continue right down the
mountain-side. As the moisture decreases, they gradually
become less luxuriant and mingle more and more with
representatives of the typical flora of the steppes, until at
length the latter entirely predominate. Even within the fern
zone examples of both types — primeval forest and steppe
vegetation — are to be met with.

The limit of the fern zone also indicates the limit of possible
cultivation, for the great and constant supply of moisture
through which the forest has originated and is maintained,
renders further clearing by fire impracticable. At this eleva-
tion, however, the climate alone would probably prove an
insuperable barrier to the cultivation of tropical plants.

In 1887 we ascended by a path considerably to the west of
our present route, but here too we reached the lower limit of the
wooded region at a height of about 6430 feet. As we proceeded,
the pathway became more open, the bush gradually thinned,
the ferns disappeared, and solitary trees — hoary harbingers of
the forest, grey with moss and lichen — stretched out their
grizzled arms to us on all sides. Under the dripping boughs

THE FOREST ZONE. ■ 127

we joumeyed on, and emerged at length upon an open plot
of ground covered with tall grasses, by the side of a babbling
brook — the Rua — half concealed beneath a wealth of herbs
and shrubs. Here we pitched our first mountain -camp.

Any lingering doubts we may have entertained as to
Ahmed's culinaiy skill were pleasantly dispelled over supper,
and, spite of the mist and the raw damp atmosphere, we spent
a very cosy evening and a no less comfortable night, though
awakened once or twice by the trumpeting of elephants. On
our arrival in camp, the guide had been sent back to Marangu,
under the escort of Mwini Amani, with strict injunctions to
return early next morning, and bring his defaulting com-
rade with him. Before they made their appearance, laden
with a supply of food, we had ample time to procure speci-
mens of the numerous orchids which graced our camping-
ground. Then the march was resumed, and we began making
our way upwards through the primeval forest.

Day after day, year in, year out, no matter what the season,
this region of perpetual cloud is likewise the region of per-
petual humidity. Wherever a constant supply of moisture is
associated with uniform drainage, the natural forest universally
attains the utmost luxmiance possible within the limits im-
posed by the prevailing temperature. In the forest region
of Kilimanjaro both these conditions are fulfilled almost to
perfection, for there is no interruption of the rainfall worth
speaking of, and the gentle gradients characteristic of the
volcanic form of mountain provide for the equal distribution
of the surface water. Why the northern aspect of the moun-
tain should in these respects be less favoured, is a question
we shall endeavour to answer later on.

Thus, experiencing no marked change of season, no definite
period of prolonged drought, the trees would be apt to sufi"er
from excess of moisture were the leaves not specially organised

128 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

"vvith a view to free and incessant transpiration. Accordingly,
evergreen forms preponderate, the only deciduous forms being
the herbaceous plants and some of the smaller bushes. Here
the conditions are the exact reverse of those that surround
the flora of the steppes, and all the organs are arranged and
modified so as to facilitate the process of evaporation. The
pandanus, dracaena, and similar species have the upper sur-
face of the leaf smooth and waxy, which serves to keep
the stomata open, while in others, such as Clavija and
Rhus, the same end is achieved by means of a coating of
hairs. Along the course of the streams, where the struggle
for light and air is keenest, the ferns and other plants
exhibit a tendency towards an extraordinary development
of leaves, as presenting the largest possible evaporating sur-
face. Species which elsewhere are characterised by com-
paratively scanty foliage here produce leaves of astonishing
size and number.

No sooner had we entered this conseiTatory of luxuriant
greenery than we were soaked to the skin. The tall wet
undergrowth met above our heads, and at every step the trees
grew closer and closer together, festooned and bound stem to
stem by endless and inextricable trails of creeper, and beneath
this leafy canopy stretched a dainty carpet of rich green
ferns, unbroken save by the brown band of our boggy path-
way. Bough and trunk and creeper alike were covered with
an endless variety of parasites true and false, of which by far
the most common and conspicuous was a long yellowish-brown
hanging moss. They were all as full of water as a sponge,
and mercilessly added their quota to our dripping misery. The
porters especially were in a pitiable condition, and had hard
work as they followed the endless windings of the path, now
bending to avoid a threatening branch, now forcibly pushing
their way between the serried stems, or climbing with their

FOREST FLORA AND FAUNA. 129

heavy loads over some fallen trunk that blocked the way.
Fortunately the ascent was nowhere steep.

From time to time we emerged from the prevailing
twihght upon some open space, where we hailed with glad-
ness the cheering light of heaven, and delightedly inhaled
its fresh free air. It is singular how sharply these plots of
greensward are separated from the dense forest around them.
The transition from the grass by which they are overgrown to
forms of giant girth and height is as abrupt as that from the
barren steppes to the belt of wood that accompanies the
course of some stream, and would seem to indicate that their
origin is artificial rather than natural. Arborescent heaths
and sumach trees form the enclosing hedge, and the grass
of the clearings is sprinkled with three species of orchids,
two green and one red. On the higher grounds a red iris
and red and yellow everlasting flowers (Heliclirysum) are also
common.

Everywhere we came upon abundant traces of elephants.
In the spongy ground each of their footprints had become a
pool a foot deep, which we were obliged carefully to avoid,
while the broken branches and uprooted stems with which
they had strewed the way were a constant source of annoy-
ance. In many places also the ground had been rucked up
and befouled by buffaloes. From time to time the silence
was broken by the hoarse bark of the monkey or the mourn-
ful cry of the hornbill, but on the whole the forest showed
remarkably few signs of animal life. At no point did we
obtain anything approaching to a view, either downward
towards the plains or upward towards the mountain heights.

Slowly we plodded on in the stillness and the gloom, till
at length, in the afternoon, we reached a narrow grassy strip,
which here stretches down into the very heart of the forest

from the open grass-lands beyond its upper limit. It has

130 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

ill all probability originated accidentally, the flames having
gradually crept farther and farther downwards during succes-
sive burnings of the grass above. Along this strip the path
led more steeply upwards, while the trees hemmed it in on
either side, the heaths gi'adually gaining upon all other forms
as the elevation increased. At a height of 8500 feet we
reached a kind of teii'ace where the ascent was more gradual,
and the grass strip widened into open pasture-land. Although
clumps of trees still studded the foreground, we were now
beyond the precincts of the dense primeval forest.

We stood on the south-eastern side of Mawenzi, of
whose jagged rocks we now and then obtained a momentary
glimpse between the rolling masses of cumulus cloud which
enshrouded the summit. Downwards along its eastern flank
stretched a series of parasitic cones of considerable size.
Between these the path we had hitherto followed continued
in a north-easterly direction, along the upper edge of the
forest, towards the Jagga states of Rombo and Useri. AVe,
however, struck westward across the grass-land towards the
southern face of the peak, and just as the mist began to
fall reached the foot of the westmost parasitic cone. There,
at an elevation of 8710 feet, we camped for the night, close to
the upper limit of the forest, by the side of a small, ice-cold
stream — the Kifinika.

Through the suiTounding mist the long grey lichens,
hanging from the branches, waved weird and ghostly in the
chilly evening breeze. Half frozen, the men huddled together
over the sputtering camp-fire, which could scarcely be got
to burn on account of the damp. The thermometer stood
at 43° F., and my fingers being too benumbed either to write
or work, I crept forthwith into my sleeping sack, and blessed
the memory of the good old wether whose fleecy fell now
stood me in such excellent stead.

ABOVE THE FOREST. 131

"With the thermometer at 36° Fahr., and hoarfrost on the
ground, the men were hardly to be blamed if, next morning
(Nov. ist), they were some hours later than usual in leaving
the warm shelter of their huts. About eight o'clock the mist
began to clear, however, and all were ready to follow the
guides into the forest, which here stretches somewhat farther
up the mountain. We had to begin by trampling down a path
for ourselves through the dense undergrowth — a sufficiently
hard task, although in this uplying region the trees do not
stand close together, nor are there any more of the tiresome
creepers, which at all times make progress so difficult.
Colossal rhododendrons, dracsenas, and heaths are the pre-
vailing forms, no longer covered with brownish moss, but
draped with grey lichens, while the undergrowth largely con-
sists of reeds and rushes mingled with tall Umbelliferöe. The
soil, which in the lower forest region was brown and boggy,
is here a blackish humus, and the rock no more exhibits
a close basaltic structure, but is coarsely crystalline.

The men marched splendidly, without a word of urging ;
they were the pick of the caravan. As they got gradually
warmed up with walking, their miserable plight of the even-
ing before became a source of much fun and merriment,
which reached a climax when one of the guides surprised
an unsuspecting rodent, that had unduly prolonged its
morning nap, and, in spite of its energetic struggles and
terrified cries, carried it off in triumph tied fast to a forked
stick.

Continuing westward and upward for about an hour, we
reached a small stream — the Ngona mdogo — which has hol-
lowed out a channel through one of the beds of lava. Here
in 1887 we had our first view of Mawenzi, which, in its
mantle of newly-fallen snow, looked wonderfully near. To-day,
however, the peak was invisible, and we gazed blankly upon

132 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

a grey expanse of mist. Crossing the deep ravine formed by
another stream — the Ngona mkuba — which we had already
crossed lower down, where it forms the boundary between
Marangu and Kilema, we struck the neutral path that
traverses the upper grass-lands, skirting the edge of the forest
all the way from Useri to Majame, at about the same distance
up the mountain-side. This path we continued to follow
for some hours, occasionally passing some offshoot from the
forest mnning upwards into the grass-land wherever there
was a watercourse, or other suitable conditions.

The average limit of the forest belt is about 9500 feet,
the extreme limit imposed by the climatic conditions being
some six or seven hundred feet higher. The region lying
between these two altitudes is the special habitat of the
heaths. Here they appear as trees, shattered and riven by
the mountain-winds and hoary with trailing lichens, but still
able to weather the storms. In the form of low shrubs they
are scattered throughout the whole of the grassy uplands,
reaching as far as the plateau at the saddle, at a height of
over 13,000 feet. The extreme hardiness of these plants is
mainly due to the peculiar formation of the leaves : the upper
surface is smooth and destitute of pores, and the stomata all
open on the under surface, over which the edges are closely
curled. The free exhalation of the moisture and gases is thus
guaranteed, no matter how dense and persistent the mist by
which they are surrounded, and the evaporation so essential
to the life of the plant goes on as long as the leaflets are
exposed, for occasional brief intervals, to dry air and sunshine.

Several species of Proteacew and rue, with bracken, ever-
lasting flowers, and bilbemes, grow alongside the heaths
in the higher regions. Many of these were now in full
bloom, and offered a rich harvest to the wild bees ; and it
was for their benefit that the Wa-Jagga had in several places

UPPER LIMIT OF THE PRIMEVAL FOREST (9500 ft.), WITH
SPECIMENS OF SENECIO yOHNSTONI

Lr "^

THE HALF-WAY CAMP. 133

hung on the trees the hollow wooden cylinders which are
in general use throughout East Africa for the collection of
honey. Towards midday we had reason to know that the
sun could shine here as well as in Jagga, but the cool
mountain-breeze fanned our foreheads, and combined with
the familiar forms of the vegetation to suggest pleasant
thoughts and happy memories of home and fatherland.

Presently from the sea of clouds which rolled over the
forest and hid the plains below, the mist stole up and round
us again, enveloping us for the rest of the day. Leaping
across the sparkling Mue, where as yet it is little more than a
tiny rill, we left the path and struck upwards towards the
spot where, following the example of ]Mr. H. H. Johnston, Von
Eberstein and I had fixed our station from which to attempt
the ascent of Kibo in 1887. Continuing along the upward
course of the Mue, which I had formerly dubbed the Senecio,
because on its banks we found our first example of Senecio
Johnstoni, we left behind us the huts that marked the camp-
ing-ground of Dr. Abbott and Ehlers in 1889, and pitched our
large tent in a sheltered hollow by the side of the stream,
whose steep banks were still richly clad with heaths and
sumach trees. On the heights above, the ice-fields of Kibo
sparkled temptingly, as if to lure us onward and upward to
try their gleaming slopes.

As latterly we had been proceeding in a horizontal direction
westwards rather than upwards, we were still not far above
the forest. Our height above the sea was 9480 feet.

Here, then, we fixed the site of our intermediate station,
between Marangu and the saddle plateau, and here the large
tent was to remain for the next few weeks. The men set
about the necessary work without delay. Two water-tight
huts of grass and brushwood were speedily run up ; leaves
were collected for bedding ; a supply of firewood was cut and

134 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIDO.

piled, and places were prepared for the fires. Before sunset
the camp was completed.

In preparation for our ascent to the saddle the next day, I
packed our most essential equipments in a tin box, made up the
sleeping-sacks and blankets into a second load, the small tent
forming a third, the camp-kettle and provisions a fourth, the
photographic apparatus a fifth, and the theodolite a sixth,
which as usual was intrusted to Mwini Amani.

In the glow of the early morning sunshine the little
caravan of eight took its way up the mountain. For some
distance we were accompanied by the rest of the men, until at
length I bade them a cheery farewell, and sent them back to
their lonely camp. All who went with me had been provided
with woollen underclothing, and as far as possible with some
sort of covering for the feet. Many of them had boiTowed
coats and trousers from the Somdl, and, in expectation of
severe cold, all were swathed to suffocation in warm wraps,
which one by one they were glad to cast off immediately we
began to climb in earnest.

From the ridge along which we went the grass-land
stretched right and left for miles, sloping downwards like a
roof from the edge of the saddle plateau to the dark line of the
forest. The edge of the plateau runs in a fairly horizontal
line from Mawenzi to Kibo ; from where we stood it looked
like the saddle between the two peaks, the higher plateau
behind being concealed from view. All that was to be seen
of the peaks themselves was the white ice-helmet of Kibo and
the jagged crown of Mawenzi, and soon they too passed out
of sight. We had seen enough, however, for the plotting
of the route. I took the lead, and, as formerly in 1887,
made towards the middle of the plateau, following the line
of a lightly rounded ridge of lava, which ran almost straight
towards the required point, between two deep ravines.

SEX EC 10 jOHXSTOXL I35

Among the deAvy grass we repeatedly startled a small grey
antelope of a species unknown to me, and numbers of gaily
plumaged snnbirds flew from bush to bush sucking the honey
from the pale yellow flowers of the smaller Proteacece. For
two hours we continued upwards along the gently sloping
sheet of lava, which at first was closely carpeted with grass,
and higher up with blossoming heaths and everlastings. As
soon as we had left the grass behind, we began to make way
more rapidly, the rough detritus affording a better footing. On
our left, towards the west, farther progress in that direction was
now barred by one of the ravines. In the easily-eroded mate-
rial of the broad lava sheets of this region, the stream has
gradually carved out for itself a gorge varying from 150 to 200
feet deep, and from 80 to 100 feet wide. The edges are perfectly
sharp and clean-cut, and the sides go sheer down like those of
a crevasse in a glacier. It was at the source of this stream
that we camped in July 18S7, and there, in the depth of
the tropical winter, we found the first snow on the mountain,
whence we christened the spring the Schnee quelle, or "spring
in the snow." At that time the water came down in a merry
babbling brook, but now, in the dry season, it lay in silent
pools, apparently fed by underground springs. What struck
us most on seeing the bed thus exposed was the remarkably
small amount of force which has sufficed, in the course of
ages, to wear away the soft volcanic rock to such an astound-
ing depth. For the first time we began to have some faint
conception of the vast ravages gradually wrought by wind
and weather on the slopes of Mawenzi, now a mere relic of
its former greatness.

At the bottom of the gorge, on the brink of some of the
pools, we noticed several isolated and weather-beaten speci-
mens of Senecio Johnstoni, an extraordinary arborescent plant,
looking in the distance somewhat like a human being, but iu

136 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

reality consisting of a dark smooth trunk six or eight feet
high, and surmounted by a huge crown of grey withered
leaves. When seen through the mist, it is easy to under-
stand how a kindred species of these curious trees, indigenous
to the Tropical Andes, should have come to be called ''fraile-
jones" or monk's cowls. In the Andes, as on Kilimanjaro,
they occur only in marshy places. The precipitous rocks on
either side were almost entirely bare, and displayed in section
a complete system of fantastically curved and crumpled layers
of lava of varying colour and hardness.

Keeping along the edge of the ravine, we continued our
way upwards, passed a small tributary stream, now almost
dry like the other, and gradually approached the point we
had been keeping in view, over increasingly coarse volcanic
debris. Here the ravine widened into a glen, which we were
able to cross ; and having gained the other side, we scrambled
painfully on over the loose detritus in the direction of the more
gentle inchne up the southern part of the plateau, which leads
by a long slope towards the highest point of the saddle.

Soon Kibo came once more into view, and we pressed on
towards it, until at length we were compelled by sheer exhaus-
tion to camp on the edge of another ravine, scarcely so steep
as the first. In the pools at the bottom there was a supply
of water sufficient to last us for some weeks, and later on we
were obliged to have recourse to it, Mwini Amani carrying
it up daily to our camping-ground above. I had hoped on
this day to be able to go on a good deal farther, and get
somewhat nearer to Kibo ; but the men were so thoroughly
done up that, immediately on getting into camp, they flung
themselves down among the boulders, and slept the whole
afternoon, heedless alike of mist and cold. Towards even-
ing they bestirred themselves a little, and having had their
supper, crept into what sheltered crannies they could find,

TORTOISESHELL ROCKS. 137

under ledges of rock or in the hollows of the lava beds, and
there spent the night as best they conld.

All the afternoon and evening Kibo and Mawenzi
remained sullenly wrapt in mist. The landscape here is
almost melancholy in its sombre monotony. As far as the
eye can reach, nothing is to be seen save dark grey blocks of
lava scattered over the gravelly or sandy ground. Neither
grass nor bush reheves the dreary waste ; no sound of living
creature greets the ear. The silence is unbroken save for
the eerie sough of the wind as it whistles among the boulders
or rustles the crisp leaves of some starveling shrub and
wafts the misty wreaths across the drear expanse of grey.
The scene contrasts strongly with that on the farther edge
of the plateau, which lies only some 700 feet lower. There
the beds of lava are covered with grassy turf, and lower
down are studded with bushes and trees, whose growth is
favoured by the character of the soil, the result of the equal
weathering of the surface layers of rock. Here, on the other
hand, owing to the absence of any gregarious form of vegeta-
tion, which the climatic conditions would render impossible,
the extreme difference in the temperature of day and night
causes the walls of lava to split into blocks averaging about
ten or twelve cubic feet in size. In places where the process
of sphtting is still incomplete, or where the angle of in-
clination is not sufficient to cause the blocks to fall by their
own weight, the rent and cracked masses of lava assume the
characteristic tortoiseshell-like appearance which excited so
much remark on the part of Mr. H. H. Johnston. In the
fissures between the larger fragments, the small crumble to
sand and dust, and are blown hither and thither unceasingly
by the wind, so that it is only here and there in the more
sheltered nooks that an isolated shrub or a solitary tuft of
flowers manages to struggle into life.

ns8 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

Amid these depressing siuToiindiiigs rather an amusing
incident occurred. As I was scrambling about in search of
botanical specimens, my foot struck against something that
gave out a sharp metallic sound, and looking down, I dis-
covered a sadly battered empty preserved-meat tin bearing
the pathetically homely inscription, " Irish Stew." A few
steps farther on, I came upon a tattered sheet of the Salvation
Army newspaper En Avant. Evidently we had chanced upon
the same camping-ground that Dr. Abbott and Ehlers had
used the year before, for in the station at Moji this same
chronicle of Salvation Army doings had been one of the
stock funds of amusement. All the same, I' took the motto
" E7i Avant " as a favourable augury for us under our present
circumstances.

A bitterly cold wind set in after sundown from the
direction of Kibo, and we were glad to take refuge in our
tent and creep into our sleeping-sacks, feeling no desire to
leave them again for the next twelve hours. Nevertheless,
while the early morning sun still shone on the icy crown of
the higher peak, and cast long shadows across the western
side of its sister, Mawenzi, we had crossed the ravine which
lies almost midway between the two, and were hastening
towards the centre of the base of Kibo. The whole of
the peak was now visible in one clear sweep from top to
bottom. Its base rested on the plateau, unobscured by any
intervening terrace, the ground sloping smoothly upwards to
its feet. The series of parasitic hills along the saddle lay
to the right, and even the jagged snowless wall of Mawenzi
no longer intercepted the view.

In the dry, clear, highly-rarefied atmosphere the distant
heights looked deceptively near. The men tramped on
bravely, but the lava beds seemed as if they would never
come to an end. For half-an-hour we rested in a hollow

CAMP AT THE FOOT OF KIBO. 139

by a small patch of green grass, which we found to be
nourished by an underground spring. Here the landscape
began to show more variety of colour. The sheet of volcanic
ashes over which we were now passing was of a warm brick-
red intersected by bands of dull yellow ; the hills on the
saddle, from which the ashes have originally proceeded, are
of the same ruddy tint, while the volcanic debris at the foot
of Kibo is brown, its cliffs and precipices a dark bluish-grey,
its icy cap a dazzling white, faintly lined with palest blue,
and the overarching firmament a deep ultramarine. But the
effect is never glaring ; all the varying hues are blended and
toned into each other in a magnificent symphony of colour
which harmonises in every essential with the beauty and
grandeur of the mountain forms.

On the farther side of the sheet of ashes, which we crossed
as quickly and easily as if it had been a threshing-floor, I espied
a spot which looked as if it had been expressly made for camp-
ing purposes. Immediately below a large and conspicuous
mass of rock, which later on went by the name of the ^'Viermän-
nerstein,^^ or Four Men's Eock, was a pile of smaller blocks,
forming a protecting wall against the icy winds blowing from
the snow-fields of Kibo. At a bend in this wall we found
a little plot of ground, on whose porous ashen soil our tiny
tent rested as snugly and securely as on Abraham's bosom.
Close by was a sheltered place for the fire, and in a crevice
between the stones a sleeping place for Mwini Amani ; lined
with bundles of everlastings and rue, and covered with thick,
woollen blankets, it was soon transformed into quite a cosy
little nest. Other chinks and gaps afforded abundant accom-
modation for our various stores and equipments, and a supply
of firewood was obtainable from a number of woody Euryops
bushes with squamous leaves, two species of which still con-
trived to exist, even at this elevation, in the sheltered spot

I40 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

we had now reached. On the top of the ''Viermännerstein" I
planted the German flag, propping it up with a pyramid of
stones. Later on it served to indicate our whereabouts to
the relays of porters who brought us our supplies of pro-
visions. The five men who had thus far accompanied us were
sent back after a short rest, in order that they might reach
the camp at the Mue by sundown, and it was not without
a certain eerie feeling of solitude that we watched them
slowly disappear behind the ridge of lava, and found ourselves
alone on Kibo.

AVhile Mwini busied himself with the fire and the cook-
ing, it being exactly midday, I took an observation for
latitude, and thus obtained the first definite point to start
from for all future compass-bearings and the plotting of our
route. After lunch I took a walk northwards in the direction
of the three cinder cones which rise at the base of Kibo, on
its eastern side. Crossing a broad sheet of volcanic mud,
hardened to the consistency of asphalte, I reached our old
camping-ground of 1887 on the south side of the "Triplets,"
as we had been wont to call the group of cones in question.
Here I came upon the fragments of a boiling-point thermo-
meter, which, to our great vexation, had then been broken
while taking an observation.

In the depression between the "Triplets" and the cone
which occupies the centre of the plateau, as in every shel-
tered situation where it was possible for vegetation to exist,
we observed numerous footprints of some large ruminant.
In 1887 I did not see the animal myself, but this time,
in the vicinity of the red central hill, I remarked three
small herds of eland, each comprising six or eight head,
leisurely cropping the scanty patches of grass and herbage.
Needless to say, the eland are not indigenous to the region, but
come up from below during the warmer part of the day. A

o
o

-5

^
^

THE FIRST ASCENT. 141

species of stonechat does, however, make its home in these
inhospitable wastes ; and so little do these tiny creature know
of the shyness born of the fear of man, that they came to
the tent-door and picked up the food we put down for them
from among our very feet.

The latter part of the afternoon was taken up with our
preparations for the ascent of Kibo, which we had resolved
to attempt early next morning. We had reached a height
of 14,200 feet, and were still about a mile and a half from
the actual cone, which towers upward for another 5510
feet, its base measuring about four miles in breadth. On
the right half of the cone, the ice-cap is quite narrow, and
towards the edge assumes a deep blue tinge ; the precipices
and ridges of la.va below are here quite free of ice. On the
left side, again, the ice descends almost to the base of the
cone in long tongues full of great rents and chasms. In
the middle, that is, on the side facing us, a broad sheet of
ice comes downward, filling up the valley between two long,
high ridges of rock. It too is full of rents and cracks, and
looks by no means inviting. At a point about two-thirds of
the way up, the left-hand ridge disappears beneath the great
ice mantle which hides the summit, and here the slope
seems to be somewhat less precipitous, and the ice scarcely
so much fissured as elsewhere. The shortest road to the
highest part of the crater rim, which lies on the southern
side of the mountain, seemed to lie across the ice at this
point.

Our plan was to follow the ridge aforesaid to where it met
the snow-line, and thence begin the climb across the ice-cap.
The way was long, and we knew we must make up our minds
for some hard work, but the uncertainty of what the next
day might bring forth kept us awake all night, and deprived
us of the rest we so much needed.

142 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

Every quarter of an hour, from one o'clock onwards, we
kept striking matches to see the time. At half-past two we
crept out of the tent. The night was cold and pitch dark —
not a trace of the moonlight we had hoped for. As quickly
as might be, we strapped our knapsacks on our backs, took our
ice-axes in our hands, and lighted our lanterns. "Kivaheri"
(good-bye), I called out to Mwini as I passed his cleft in the
rocks. " Kivaheri hivana na rudi salama " (good-bye, sir, and
a safe return to you), was the answer. '' Inshcdlah'' (if it be
the will of God), I replied, and we stepped forth into the night.

As long as we were crossing the level ground, we had
only to keep a look-out for the debris and blocks of stone
which were lying scattered about. Soon, however, we
reached a deep recess or corrie that penetrates the base of
the mountain ; down the side of this we slowly made our
way until Ave reached the talus at the bottom, and again
began to scramble upwards over a chaos of fallen boulders.
In the utter darkness it was desperately hard work, and
more than once we came to grief and were badly bruised
and scratched. Fortunately our lanterns, which were of
Muscovy glass, sustained no damage, though eveiy time we
fell they were extinguished, and the business of relighting
them in the strong wind that was blowing tried oar patience
sadly. It seemed to me that Purtscheller, w^io was leading,
kept somewhat too far northwards, to the right ; I held on
in a more easterly direction, as far as possible in a straight
line for the middle of the peak. Suddenly, when morning
broke, we discovered right across our path and 500 feet
below us, the ravine for the southern side of which we
had all along supposed ourselves to be making. We had
struck too far to the north, and there was nothing for it but
to descend the dizzy cliffs, scramble across the mass of loose
stones and rubbish at the bottom, and scale the beetling

NEARING THE ICE. 143

precipices opposite. By this unfortunate mistake we lost a
whole precious hour of the best part of the day.

Having safely scrambled down, after a short rest, we
for some time followed the upward course of the bed of
detritus, leaving the last traces of flowering vegetation be-
hind at a height of 15,420 feet. At half-past six we passed
a transverse dyke of lava, which intersects the valley about
half-way up, and towards seven, at a height of 16,400
feet, came upon the first flakes of snow, as we paused
under the shelter of the rocks on the south side. On the
north side, which is sheltered from the " upper trade
winds," snow occurs in almost continuous patches from this
point upwards to where the lower end of the ice-sheet
enters the valley, at a height of 17,580 feet. There the
melting ice forms two small streams, which are soon lost
among the detritus below. The view across the rock-strewn
talus in both directions is singularly impressive. Above
towers the massive wall of ice, and beneath, the valley runs
steeply downwards, and far below bends towards the south.
Its jagged sides are cut and carved by the erosive force of
time and weather, — here seamed with dykes of lava, there
polished and scratched through the action of ice, — while
from time to time the roar of the wind or the crash of
falling rocks testifies to the unceasing activity of Nature.

It was not until twenty minutes past seven that we reached
the comb of the ridge which we had yesterday selected as
afl'ording probably the best approach to the summit, and,
panting for breath, began scrambling upwards along the crest
over the firm rock and loose debris. Every ten minutes we
had to pause a few seconds to give heart and lungs, a rest, for
we were now far above the height of Mont Blanc, and the
increasing rarity of the atmosphere made itself more and more
painfully felt. By a quarter-past eight we had climbed over

144 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

crags and boulders to a height of 1 7,060 feet, and halted
for half-an-hour. A mouthful of melted snow mixed with
citric acid served to allay the painful dryness in our throats,
but w^e did not feel in the least hungry. Looking backwards,
we saw that we were already above the summit of Mawenzi,
which showed a rich ruddy brown in the dazzling sunlight.
The mist was creeping slowly up towards the saddle plateau,
the cinder cones in the centre of which looked like so many
molehills. Over the forest hung a thick veil of silver-grey
cloud, and beyond it floating masses of cumulus clouds,
their under-sides tinged with a roseate hue, the reflection
of the brick-red soil of the steppes below. The steppes
themselves were only dimly visible through the haze of
evaporating moisture ascending from their surface. Above,
the icy helmet of Kibo gleamed and glittered apparently close
at hand.

Continuing the ascent, shortly before nine o'clock we
reached a precipice, over the brink of which we gazed with
awe into an abyss running sheer downwards to a depth of
nearly 3000 feet. Along its edge we gradually worked our
way upwards, until we reached the lower margin of the
solid sheet of ice that crowns the summit of the mountain,
at a height of 17,980 feet.

At this point the passage from rock to ice is not so abrupt
as elsewhere. Instead of the usual bright blue wall seventy
to a hundred feet high, a sloping platform some sixty feet
in width connects the rock below wath the compact dome of
ice above. The latter, however, rises immediately at an
angle of about 35°, so that without ice-axes it is absolutely
impossible to scale it. There could no longer be any doubt
that with the proper tackle the ascent of the summit was
from this point perfectly practicable. Whether or not we
might meet with some insuperable obstacle farther on,

OUR FIRST EAST AFRICAN GLACIER. 145

and whether our strength would hold out long enough,
were matters which still remained to be tested. In such
an undertaking, there is a vast difference between starting
comfortably from some Alpine hotel, with a goodly supply
of bread, ham, eggs, and wine, and setting out, as in this
case, after a fortnight's forced march across the East African
steppes, from a small tent, and with but scant provision of
insipid dried meat, cold rice, and citric acid. More than
once we made a feeble attempt to attack some of these
uninviting viands, with but poor success, for our appetite was
completely gone.

We now donned our veils and snow-spectacles, and bound
ourselves together with the rope. Purtscheller also fastened
on his climbing irons, while I, unfortunately, was obliged to
trust solely to my strong hob-nailed boots.

At 10.30, with a cheeiy " Now then ! " we began the toil-
some work of cutting steps in the ice, which was as hard as
glass, and, when broken, proved to be as clear. The task was
no easy one : each step cost some twenty strokes of the
axe. Little by little we made our way upwards over the
smooth slippery wall, compelled at first, owing to its fright-
ful steepness, to take a slanting course to the right, but
afterwards making straight towards the summit. By-and-
by we came to the margin of a wide depression, the ex-
tension upwards of the ravine we had crossed in the morning.
Here the ice presented such an alarming array of yawning
cracks and crevasses, that we almost feared we should be com-
pelled to turn back. At every step Purtscheller tested with
his axe the fragile bridges of ice and snow that spanned the
crevasses ; one after another they were found to hold, and one
after another we left them behind us, till at length, at half-
past twelve, we reached the bottom of the last icy precipice,
at an altitude of 18,700 feet. In memory of a friend, we

146 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

called this, our first glacier on Kilimanjaro, the " llatzel
glacier." ^

We now sat down for another much-needed rest, and
asain tried to eat a little — this time with somewhat better
success. What from the plateau had appeared the highest
part of the ice-cap was now beneath us, and the lower zones
of the mountain, with their sea of floating clouds, had dis-
appeared from sight.

It may have caused some surprise that all along I have
continued to speak of ice, and not of snow, as might have
been expected. But, as a matter of fact, at this season of the
year there was hardly any snow on Kibo worth mentioning.
What from beneath appeared to be snow of the most dazzling
whiteness, was in reality the Aveathered surface of the mantle
of ice which covers the rugged shoulders of the old volcano
in a compact mass, averaging i8o to 200 feet in thickness.
On entering the valleys and hollows, the ice assumes the
familiar glacier form, and penetrates, as we have seen, a
considerable way down the mountain-side.

Although the temperature was little above freezing-point,
the reflection of the sun's rays in the highly rarefied
atmosphere was so dazzling and painful, that, in spite of veils
and spectacles, the skin peeled from our faces and necks,
and for days afterwards my eyes required the protection of
blue glasses.

The appearance of one or two floating wreaths of mist
caused us to start to our feet in alarm, and resume our
climbing with all possible speed. Breathing now became so
difficult that every fifty steps we had to stop, bending for-
ward and gasping for air. It has been estimated that at a
height of 19,000 feet the oxygen of the atmosphere amounts
only to 48 per cent., and the humidity to 15 per cent., of

^ F. Ratzel, Professor of Geography iu the University of Leipzig. — Tr.

THE CRATER RIM. 147

the average at the sea-level. Taking this into account, and
remembering the tremendous physical and nervous strain to
which we were subjected, it is little wonder that we felt so
sorely put to it.

As we proceeded, the ice became increasingly corroded,
and the surface assumed more and more the nieve penitente
appearance described by Dr. Paul Güssfeldt in his account of
Aconcagua, in Chili. Honeycombed in many places to a depth
of over six feet, and weathered into countless grooves and
ruts and pointed spikes, the ice-field formed a veritable series
of natural trous-de-loup. Again and again the treacherous
crust gave way beneath us, and we sank up to the armpits in
one of these dangerous pitfalls. Our strength began to give
way with alarming rapidity, and still above us towered the icy
wall, and still our goal seemed as distant as ever. " Onwards,"
I said to myself with set teeth; "it must come to an end
some time."

At last, towards two o'clock, we found ourselves close to
the top. A few more steps in eager anticipation and the
secret of Kibo lay unveiled before us — at our feet yawned a
gigantic crater with precipitous walls, occupying the entire
summit of the mountain.

The sight burst upon us with such unexpected suddenness
that, for a moment, it quite took away our breath. We
seated ourselves and looked around. The first glance told us
that we had still more work ahead. The most lofty elevation
of Kibo lay to our left, on the southern rim of the crater,
where three jagged pinnacles of rock towered yet a few
hundred feet above the southern slope of the ice-cap. We
could not have reached them in less than another hour and a
half, even had we been in a condition to attempt it. More-
over, we should then have been obliged to bivouac there for
the night, which would have been simple madness, as we

148 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIDO.

were destitute of protection against the cold. We had had
eleven hours of exceptionally hard climbing over unknown
ground, at an altitude, roughly speaking, of from 14,500 to
19,300 feet, and in making the descent it seemed likely we
should also have to reckon with the mist, which now slowly
began to draw towards us. Everything considered, there-
fore, we deemed it our wisest course to make the best of
our way down with all possible speed, consoling ourselves,
meanwhile, for the present partial disappointment with the
resolve to return in three days to achieve the conquest of the
highest point.

So far, we had every reason to be satisfied with the results
of our first ascent. The existence of the long-suspected
crater at the summit of the mountain had been demonstrated ;
its extent, the appearance of the cone, and the general con-
formation of its rocks and of its ice had been ascertained, as
well as the peculiar characteristics of the ice-sheet ; the way
to the highest point had been determined, and the altitude
of the point we had reached fixed at 19,260 feet.

Comforting ourselves with these considerations, at twenty
minutes past two we commenced the descent. Among the
trailing wreaths of mist, I without climbing-irons, and both of
us so exhausted that at one time IleiT Purtscheller became
quite faint, we made but slow progress down the slippery
wall. A little way from the summit we found that the action
of the sun's rays had been so intense as almost to obliterate
the steps we had hewn, and for the most part we were com-
pelled to renew them. It was killing work for our wearied
limbs, and was rendered ten times more trying by our dangerous
situation : a single false move on the part of either of us
would have precipitated both into the yawning depths below.
But once more the will proved superior to the flesh, and,
breathing more freely, towards four o'clock we again had the

RETURN TO CAMP. 149

satisfaction of planting our feet on the solid rock. Here we
allowed ourselves half-an-hour's rest, and during that time sat
silently watching the tumbling masses of cloud, which alone
gave life and motion to the stern majesty of the scene around
us. Then, slipping and sliding, we made our way down the
detritus heaps lining the side of the valley we had crossed in
the morning, and still more swiftly continued downwards over
the long sloping talus at the bottom. The precipitous wall
of cliffs on the north side of the ravine still lay between us
and our camp, and taxed our failing energies to the utmost
as we struggled up it. It too was scaled at last, however,
and then, in the fast gathering twilight, our feet winged
with the prospect of a hot supper and a comfortable bed,
we scrambled hastily over the blocks and scattered frag-
ments of the plateau in the direction of our tent. It was
quite dark when we reached it shortly before seven o'clock,
the welcome glow of Mwini's roaring camp-fire having served
as a beacon to guide our weary footsteps. The rice Mas
cooking in the pot, and right good we thought it, as we
ate it with our roast dried meat, and washed it down
with a mouthful of hot tea and brandy. But we were too
tired to sleep ; our heads ached, our skin and eyes smarted
painfully ; every muscle quivered, and we were feverish and
restless. At last, utterly worn out, we fell asleep towards
morning, and remained buried in a profound slumber till
nearly midday.

In the afternoon I took some necessary observations. The
reading of the aneroid was noted, and corrected by the boiling-
point thermometer, the temperature of the ground and of the
atmosphere was taken, and also the humidity of the latter.
Then we took a round of bearings, and added to our botanical,
geological, and photographic collections, filling up the odd
moments with other work of a like nature.

I50 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

I know of no occupation more satisfactory and interesting
to one who is moderately skilled in the use of his instruments
than taking observations such as we have just alluded to. No
extraordinary tax is made upon the mind ; it is mechanical
dexterity, the result of practice, that is required more than
theoretical knowledge. The traveller has no time to work
out all the details of his observations as he goes along, and
accordingly he confines himself to collecting the greatest
possible amount of material for use during future leisure.
Recognising this as a guiding principle, he has the satisfac-
tory assurance of knowing that, when his observations have
afterwards been computed, he has added his quota to scien-
tific knowledge in the shape of trustworthy numerical values,
however small may have been the outcome of his journey
in other respects. The same may be said in regard to the
collection of geological, botanical, and zoological specimens ;
to ensure good results, it is only necessary to get together
as varied an assemblage of specimens as may be, and after-
wards proceed to the arrangement of them according to an
adequate scheme.

With photographs it is somewhat different. That property
of photography by which it brings out with equal fidelity all
the features of an object, without regard to their relative
importance, is as disadvantageous where only the leading
characteristics are wanted, as under other circumstances it is
invaluable. Precisely on account of this property, however,
it is eminently suited for the sceneiy of the uplands of Kilima-
njaro. The outlines are so grand and so simple, that an
artist would find nothing to add and nothing to omit ; and
thus, with its correct perspective and faithful reproduction of
every detail, photography becomes the best means of pre-
serving the impression the scene conveys, and must materially
help the traveller in painting a word-picture of what he saw.

A SECOXD ASCENT. 151

provided always he has an appreciative eye for its most
striking effects. To endeavour rightly to know and under-
stand these is a task replete with magic charm. Nature
appears in such marvellous and varied guise in these equatorial
volcanic mountain heights, that it is an education in itself to
determine how much is borrowed from fire and how much
from air ; what is the relation of one feature to the other,
and to the organic life found in connection with each ; and
finally, how all may be combined into an intelligent and
intelligible picture.

In the evening, long after the sun had gone down in purple
splendour behind the cone of Meru, which showed itself on the
horizon to the west of Kibo, we sat by the fire among the all-
enshrouding mist, meditating plans for the next day. Our
distance from the ice, in regard to which we had been so
cruelly deceived, owing to the extreme purity of the atmos-
phere and the unbroken simplicity of the volcanic outlines,
seemed to make it indispensable that we should camp farther
up the mountain, if we were to reach the summit in time for
a prolonged survey. The following day we resolved to devote
to the selection of a suitable site for this purpose.

A bright moonlight night, during which the thermometer
registered a minimum temperature of 15° F., was followed by
a lovely morning. As there was no particular reason to hurry,
we allowed ourselves the luxury of a late start, and did not
strike camp until nearly midday. Purtscheller and I carried
the provisions, climbing tackle, water, and so forth, while
our man struggled with the sleeping sacks and other bulky
articles. A very comical figure Mwini cut in his nonde-
script alpine rig-out. Over his skinny shanks he had drawn
a couple of pairs of ragged woollen drawers, which at fifty
different points afforded interesting glimpses of a faded woollen
shirt. The tattered remnants of an old red military jacket,

152 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

which had once adorned the shoulders of some dashing
Scotch sergeant, did duty as a coat, while his feet were
covered — or revealed — hy a pair of my cast-off socks and
an old pair of yellow slippers. Of his face nothing was
visible except the nose, his whole head and neck being
swathed in the voluminous folds of a gigantic turban,
which, girt around his loins, on ordinary occasions was his
only dress.

Following our old route of October 3, we reached the
valley of the great glacier about four o'clock, and continued
to climb upwards along the bottom until nearly six. By this
time the mist had come down upon us, and, stumbling across
a convenient hollow in the rocks, we resolved to camp for
the night. The altitude was 15,260 feet, or about the height
of the summit of Monte Rosa. There was, of course, nothing
with which to make a fire, but everlasting flowers still grew
in abundance, and Mwini gathered great bunches of them
wherewith to line our rocky eyrie. In our sleeping sacks
and with plenty of blankets, we passed on the whole a
tolerably comfortable night, in spite of a temperature of 10°
Fahr. At three in the morning we awoke, in capital trim
for our climb to the summit, and this time Njaro, the spirit
of the mountain, was propitious — we succeeded in reaching
our goal.

For the first hour it was bright moonlight, but by-and-by
the moon went down, and we were forced to depend on our
lanterns to aid us in picking our way up the slippery lava
ridge. The higher we climbed the rarer grew the atmosphere
and the more brilliant the light of the stars. Never in my life
have I seen anything to equal the steady lustre of this tropical
starlight. The planets seemed to glow with a still splendour
which was more than earthly, and even the fiery brilliance of
Sirius and Regulus was mellowed and softened. Towards

THE SUMMIT REACHED. 153

morning the chastened glory of the zodiacal light streamed
upwards from the horizon almost to the zenith, rivalling the
mild effulgence of the Milky Way and the Magellanic clouds,
till the whole firmament seemed luminous with light divine.
Assuredly, the nights of lower earth know nothing of this
celestial silver radiance.

Shortly after dawn we reached the lower end of the Ratzel
glacier (17,580 feet). Here, trembling with cold, we sat
down to await the sunrise, huddled close together for the
sake of the extra warmth. A little after six o'clock the sun
rose behind the rugged peak of Mawenzi, and before long
we reached the foot of the wall of ice we had climbed on
the 3rd October. To our intense delight, we found the steps
we had then cut not so very much the worse for the two
days' exposure, and, as we now knew the nature of the path
ahead, we made our way upwards with comparative rapidity.
By eight o'clock we had crossed the great crevasse at an
altitude of 18,770 feet, and, although the difficulty of breath-
ing and the physical strain were as great as on the former
occasion, we felt far less exhausted, our minds being so much
more free of anxiety. We were both in the highest spirits,
and already began to congratulate ourselves on the success of
our enterprise.

At a quarter to nine we reached our old point on the
crater rim at an altitude of 19,260 feet, but almost imme-
diately pushed on again, all eager to reach the little outstand-
ing pinnacle on the southern side, on which our hearts were
set. The path sloped gently upwards, skirting the edge
of the crater in a south-westerly direction, and scarcely had
we started when we again came in sight of the dark mass of
rock on the southern side of the summit (see p. 82) which
first attracted our attention in September, from the steppes
before Taveta. It had almost passed from our mind, for since

154 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

that one brief glimpse it had been hidden from view by the
bulging ice-cap.

Onr farther progress presented no particular difficulty
apart from the weathered surface of the ice and snow, to which
by this time we had become pretty well accustomed. Passing
a curiously shaped detached wall of ice about twenty feet in
height, after a gradual ascent of an hour and a half, we
reached the foot of the three rocky pinnacles, which we found
to consist solely of loose blocks. These we climbed, one
after the other, in a leisurely and systematic fashion, and
found by the aneroid that the central one of the three attained
an altitude of 19,700 feet, overtopping the others by some
forty or fifty feet. I was the first to set foot on the culminat-
ing peak, which we reached at half-past ten o'clock. Taking
out a small German flag, which I had brought with me for
the purpose in my knapsack, I planted it on the weather-
beaten lava summit with three ringing cheers, and in virtue
of my right as its first discoverer christened this hitherto
unknown and unnamed mountain peak — the loftiest spot in
Africa and in the German Empire — Kaiser Wilhelms PeaJc.
Then we gave three cheers more for the Emperor, and shook
hands in mutual congratulation.

Njaro, the guardian spirit of the mountain, seemed to take
his conquest with a good grace, for neither snow^ nor tempest
marred our triumphal invasion of his sanctuary. The ice-
fields flashed and glittered in the dazzling sunlight, the wind
sighed whisperingly in the crannies and crevices, and in the
depths of the yawning cauldron at our feet light wreaths of
vapour curled softly and ceaselessly.

For a few minutes we gave ourselves up to the impres-
sive charm of our surroundings, and then suddenly awoke
to the prosaic fact that it was long past breakfast-time,
and that our inner man was becoming significantly con-

\^WBmm''^-

THE KIBO CRATER.

THE KIBO CRATER. I55

scions of "a felt want." Having deposited the topmost
stone of the pile in my knapsack, we made onr way back
to the edge of the crater. Here we sat down, and after a
hearty meal, proceeded to make a closer inspection of our
surroundings. The sun was broiling hot, but the light
north-easterly wind considerably modified the temperature,
which by the sling thermometer we ascertained to be 36°
Fahr. The only traces of vegetation observable were a few
scraggy lichens.

Having taken the bearings, I proceeded to make a
rough sketch of the crater, of which we had a magnifi-
cent view from the position we occupied. The depth is
between 600 and 700 feet, and the diameter something
over 2000 yards. Its walls are composed of ashy-grey and
reddish-brown lava ; on the southern side they are entirely
free from ice, and descend almost perpendicularly to the
bottom of the cauldron, which is covered with a layer of
mud and ashes. On the north side, the ice is particularly
massive, and slopes down in a series of blue and white
terraces, which at the bottom partially cover a flattened
brown cone of eruption composed of lava and ashes, the
height of which cannot be much under 500 feet. The
western wall is divided by an enormous cleft, through
which the ice that at this point covers the bottom of the
crater issues in the form of a glacier. How strange to
think of the contrast between this icy stream and the
former fiery incandescence of its bed — between this scene
of sublime repose and solemn silence and the far-off time
when the glowing rock issued red and molten from the
womb of the mountain, shaken to its very centre by its
mighty birth-pangs. It is a spectacle of imposing majesty
and unapproachable grandeur, and the effect in our case was
enhanced by the consciousness that we of all men were

156 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

the first to gaze upon it : it was a never-to-be-forgotten
experience.

We were reminded of the fliglit of time and abruptly
recalled from our rhapsodies by the appearance of numerous
floating wreaths of mist. Profiting by this warning, we at
once commenced the descent, but before we had well started
the mist was round us like a winding-sheet. Hurry as we
might, it was slow work making our way over the brittle and
slippery ice, and the passage of the Eatzel glacier occupied
us fully a couple of hours. Our hands were so benumbed
with cold that we could scarcely hold our ice-axes. Once I
missed my footing and remained suspended in mid-air, hang-
ing on to the handle of my axe, the blade of which was
embedded in the ice above. Fortunately it did not give way,
else we should both inevitably have been precipitated into
the abyss below ; with a little effort I managed to recover my
foothold, and on we went again.

At one o'clock we reached the lower limit of the ice without
breaking our bones, though as much could scarce be said of
the state of our skin. Here we divested ourselves of our veils
and spectacles, and, to Purtscheller's intense astonishment, I
drew from my pocket a handful of cigarettes and a couple of
cakes of chocolate, which I had been hoarding up as a little
surprise for him ever since we left the coast. We sat down
and demolished our treasures on the spot, enjoying ourselves
like schoolboys in a pastry-cook's.

Now that the work we had come to do was an accom-
plished fact, we felt as merry as crickets, and when we rose to
resume our march, it was as much as we could do to refrain
from letting oflF our exuberant spirits in a regular race down-
hill over the masses of debris that lay between us and our
sleeping-place of the night before. With many an echoing
shout we warned Mwini of our coming, so that by the time

IN CAMP OXCE MORE. 157

we reached the little hollow among the rocks, our trusty
servant stood awaiting us with everything packed ready for
continuing the journey to the camp at the saddle. As we
went along, I gave Mwini an account of our doings since
we had quitted him. The story of our difficulties did not
seem to impress him much. '' HaitJiuru ; umeßka sasa
ju kahisa, bassi " (" It's all right ; you got to the top at
last") was his invariable comment whenever I stopped to
take breath.

By sunset we sat at our tent-door awaiting the cooking
of a large potful of rice. The last rays of the sun gilded the
distant summit of Meru, and in the rosy evening light Kibo
seemed to beam down on us in quite a friendly fashion, as
the only mortals who had ever ventured to penetrate his
snowy fastness. We were in a very amiable frame of mind
ourselves, and, notwithstanding all the toil and trouble my
self-appointed task had cost me, I don't think I would that
night have changed places with anybody in the world.

We sat on talking far into the night, and, when at length
we did go to bed, it was with the firm intention of making the
most of the morrow as a day of rest, preparatory to an attack
on Mawenzi the day following.

But

" The best-laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft agley."

During the night Mawenzi was visited by a snowstorm, and
in the morning even the plateau was covered with a slight
coating of snow. After the sun rose the snow rapidly dis-
appeared, and I spent the forenoon photographing the
mountain scenery, while Purtscheller visited the " Triplets "
in search of geological specimens. I had just succeeded
in obtaining what I thought to be some very satisfactory
views, when, towards midday, a relay of men came up from

158 TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

the half-way camp with fresh supplies of provisions. They
brought the alarming news that my presence was required
in Marangu at once, a dispute having arisen between Mareale
and my caravan over the flag we displayed at our quarters
there. I at once suspected a plot on the part of some of the
coast slave-dealers then in Marangu, one or two of whom
I knew had reason to bear me a grudge, and I resolved to
proceed to the scene of the quarrel without delay.

Arranging with Purtscheller to await me or a message
from me at the half-way camp, shortly after noon I set out
to accompany the messengers thither myself. After a rapid
march of five hours we reached our destination for the time
being, where I found the inmates apparently quite at home,
and greatly overjoyed to see me. Mingled with their shouts
of welcome, I was much astonished to hear the lowing of
an ox, which, on inquiry, proved to have been sent up by
Mareale, with a thoughtful consideration for our welfare
which I thought augured well for the settlement of the
dispute.

Refreshing myself with a much-needed bath in the Mue,
I continued my way downwards, accompanied by four men.
The air, the hills, the plains, were all beautifully clear — I
could even take a bearing of the distant mountains of Ndara.
What a splendid day we had lost for Mawenzi !

With all possible speed we hurried along. Since last we
passed that way the tall dry grass had all been burned down,
probably in consequence of our deserted camp-fire at the
Kifinika having spread, and from the ashes which rose as we
went along I w^as soon as black as any of my followers. Just
before we entered the forest we met a band of Useri, armed
with small-bladed spears and shields of hide. On account of
the drought prevailing at the time in the state of Useri, they
had been compelled to drive their herds of goats farther up

A FALSE ALARM. 159

the mountairi, to the fresh pasture-land on its southern side.
In the forest itself we met another hand of the same tribe,
who had been to Marangu to barter their cattle for millet and
beans, and were now returning homewards by the neutral
path, to avoid passing through Rombo.

With blistered feet and tired to death after the nine hours'
march from the breezy uplands to the comparatively close
atmosphere of Jagga, I limped at last into the little station
at Marangu. My sudden arrival was hailed with a storm
of delight of almost absurd extravagance, which even the
frightful appearance of my face — peeled and swollen with
the sun and wind of the glaciers — scarcely was able to
modify.

Rumour, as usual, had made a mountain of a mole-hill.
On inquiring the cause of the dispute between Mareale and
my men, it turned out that, incited, as I had suspected, by
the coast traders, the chief had required us either to lower
the German flag or pay him an indemnity of a thousand
dollars. If one or other of these alternatives was not com-
plied with within five days, the station was to be stormed by
Mareale's warriors. With proper spirit, the Somal had refused
to lower the flag, and, not knowing what to do next, had
thought the best thing was to communicate with me.

Mareale needed no invitation to come to see me. As soon
as he heard of my arrival he came at once, and I could see
at a glance he was beginning to be ashamed of himself. I
explained to him that the hoisting of the national colours
over my tent was a matter of no importance to either of us,
since the possession of Kilimanjaro was a point which had
been settled between the English and the Germans at head-
quarters long ago. I further reminded him of what he knew
already — that I had merely come to ascend and explore the
mountain in the interests of science ; and the matter was

i6o TO THE SUMMIT OF KIBO.

finally settled by my agreeing to fly, in addition to the
objectionable ''haruti-na-clamu-flag" (or " blood-and-powder-
flag," as he was pleased to style our national ensign, from its
red and black colours), a second flag showing a white star
on a red ground, and supposed to represent the colours of
Mareale's house.

In the evening, to show that there was no ill-feeling, I
treated the natives to a display of fireworks, in the course of
which a spark from a rocket set fire to one of the men's
huts. During the night the windows of heaven were opened,
and on my devoted countenance — thickly smeared with a
layer of zinc ointment to allay the smart of the blisters — it
rained, not water, alas ! but white ants and bits of straw. Over
the spectacle I presented next morning to the eyes of my
afi'righted porters it is as well to draw a veil.

The day was spent in writing, for the benefit of my friends
in Europe, an account of my experiences thus far, which was
duly transmitted to them by means of the post-runner of the
Moji mission, who happened to be leaving for the coast in the
course of a day or two. We had as yet received no letters
from home, but they were expected by the end of another
week, and I left orders that they should be forwarded to us
at the saddle plateau immediately they arrived. Thanks to
the presence of the English missionaries, matters have already
advanced so far in Jagga that the Europeans stationed there
get their letters and newspapers not more than a month old.
The most inveterate hermit could not object to this pleasant
feature in his exile ; for, however much a European may
revel in the untrammelled freedom of African life — however
much he may rejoice to be rid of hollow forms and ceremonies,
he is still too much a social animal not to pine in solitude
for tidings of family and friends, and too much a civilised
animal to be able to forego without a pang all knowledge

"PER AS PER A AD ASTRA !"

i6i

of how the world w^ags in lands where the blessings of civilisa-
tion caiTy with them their accustomed curse.

Having dispatched two men to Moji with the bulky packet,
I was ready to return to the scene of my labours. Once more
it was *' Per aspera ad astra !"

LOWER END OF THE KATZEL GLACIER.

CHAPTER V

TEN DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

Once more "per aspera ad astraT
The " asperities " commenced from
the very first, for we crammed into
a single day what formerly had
occupied two days and a half,
climbing from Marangu to the
half-way camp between sunrise and
sunset. Up through the green
banana plantations, over the mur-
muring mountain streams,
on through the emerald
twilight of the forest and
across the breezy uplands
— on and on we steadily
tramped, reaching the Mue at
eventide, in time to reassure
my little band of attendants,
who had spent the last
three days in the greatest
anxiety. I found Herr
Purtscheller waiting for
me, and, although considerably knocked up after my recent
exertions, I at once made the necessary arrangements for

moving up to the plateau next morning.

162

TYPICAL PLANTS FROM THE UPPER REGIONS
OF KILIMANJARO.

FIRE ! 163

During the night occurred what might have been a serious
disaster. Notwithstanding the strictest injunctions to the
contrary, some of the men had secretly kindled a fire inside
their hut. All of a sudden the hut burst into a blaze, and
almost before we were aware, the wind was carrying the
flames in the direction of our tent. In less time than it takes
to write it, we had the tent hauled down, while the men set
to work to thrash out the flames with branches and bushes.
In five minutes all was over. The culprits were sufficiently
punished by the loss of all their belongings, and wore an
exceedingly hang-dog look as they sneaked off with their
comrades to the shelter of the two remaining huts, while we
had our tent removed a good distance off", to be out of reach
of such mischances in the future.

After a plentiful meal of rice and honey — a feast of the
gods in Central Africa — we once more started on our way
upwards. Accompanied by four men carrying the same equip-
ments as formerly, we pursued our old route along the edge
of the ravine, and at the end of three hours crossed the rivulet
rising from the Schneequelle, with its lonely grey senecios.
This time, instead of turning to the left in the direction of
Kibo, we kept on along the bank of the stream, as in 1887.
The stream here flows through a grassy hollow about 1 50 feet
wide, the bottom of which is strewn with large boulders,
while on either side rises a ridge of lava covered with loose
stones and a scanty sprinkling of low herbs. The ascent
was comparatively easy, but in the damp, raw mist it was
bitterly cold, and the men were soon perfectly benumbed.
"Ah Bwana," cried first one and then another, with chatter-
ing teeth, — "Ah Bwana, you have brought us here to die."
There was little fear of that, of course, but nevertheless I
thought it as well to halt as soon as we had reached the
source of the stream where once before we had pitched our

i64 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIETEEX THOUSAND FEET.

tents in July 18S7. The circle of stones we had ranged
around our camp was still standing, and the tent was set up
in the old place. The men found a comfortahle shelter in
the caves in the adjoining wall of lava, and, under the
influence of a roaring fire and a meal of hot bean-porridge,
gradually thawed so far as to strike up some of their melan-
choly, monotonous Zanzibar songs. Only Mohammed still
looked glum, and swore that on this accursed mountain "the

beans would never grow soft though you cooked them

for a century." His observation was as correct as it was
forcible, for at our present elevation water boiled at 190° F.,
a point much too low for cooking purposes. After this we
took the precaution to have the beans cooked at the half-
way camp before they were brought up to us.

During the night the wind suddenly changed, and, blow-
ing from the ice-fields of Kibo, brought the minimum tem-
perature down to 15° F. In the morning everything was
covered with a white rime, which speedily disappeared, how-
ever, under the rays of the rising sun. Soon we were once
more on our way up the valley, the ridge on the left gradually
sloping away as we ascended, that on the right becoming
higher and more rugged. To the best of my recollection the
latter ended in a rocky hill not far from the foot of Mawenzi,
and we followed it the greater part of the way, the dust and
ashes between the blocks afibrding a good foothold.

At eveiy step we obtained a better view of Kibo, and were
even able to distinguish the familiar "Viermännerstein."
Reaching at last the hill I had in view, we established our-
selves on its south-western slope, and pitched our tent in the
shelter of two great masses of rock, which had apparently
rolled down from the heights above (see Illustration). The
altitude we ascertained to be 14,300 feet, but there were
plenty of Euryops bushes for firewood, and otherwise the site

c
o

CAMP AT MAWENZI. 165

seemed very suitable for our purpose. The only drawback
was the want of water — a want which entailed a great deal
of extra Avork on Mwini Amani, who again was our only
attendant. The nearest spring was the Schneequelle, where
we had camped overnight, and every drop of water we used
had to be fetched by Mwini all that distance.

The first thing we did after kindling a fire was to set about
taking the midday observation for latitude. Afterwards we
climbed the hill, which rose steeply behind the camp. At
the summit were two flattened peaks connected by a narrow
col, from which we concluded that here was the original
source of the lava stream along which we had ascended in
the morning. The hill had a precipitous face on all sides,
especially towards the west, where it sank down directly into
a deep ravine, on the farther side of which lay another cone
and another lava stream. Almost straight behind these
rose the red central hill on the saddle, and behind that
again the "Triplets" at the foot of the cloud-piercing Kibo.
Except along the lower limit of the ice-cap, which forms a
bold zigzag, the eye in this direction rested only upon straight
or gently-curving lines. A conspicuous feature was the de-
scending streams of lava, which stretch downwards along
the mountain-side in long regular ridges like railway embank-
ments. Towards the north the view ranged uninterruptedly
over the saddle plateau, but the plains beyond were still in-
visible. There was a marked contrast when we turned towards
the east. Here there were no more straight lines and pleasant
curves, but dark and threatening the shattered bulwarks of
Mawenzi rose sternly into the upper air. Like some gigantic
ruin, its rugged, weather-beaten summit stood out jagged
and defiant against the sky-line, rising gradually from south
to north in a series of fantastic peaks and pinnacles.

In the immediate foreground the south-western side of

1 66 TEN DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

MaAvenzi was covered with loose volcanic ddbris, which formed
a gigantic talus sloping steeply downwards from a rocky ridge,
apparently connected with the series of pinnacles which lead
toward the topmost peak. This ridge was accordingly selected
as the point towards which to direct our steps on the morrow,
though a single glance upward sufficed to show we had no
easy climb before us.

Having completed our sun^ey, we turned our footsteps
''homeward," laden with chips of rock, some of them crusted
with lichens, the only form of vegetation to be met with on
the cone. The rest of the day was spent in making our
preparations for a first assault on Mawenzi next morning
(October 1 3th).

A bitter north-east wind was blowing when we awoke
about 4 A.M., and set out in the moonlight, axe and rope in
hand. Mwini heard us stirring, and as usual called his cheery
" Safe return ! " after us. There is a vein of inborn supersti-
tion in every one, and I had grown so used to Mwini's part-
ing salutation by way of benediction to our more important
undertakings, that I verily believe I should have thought it
a presage of evil had he happened to omit it.

AVith the accustomed happy omen ringing in our ears, Me set
our faces eastward and upward, and followed the direction of
the hollow between the lava sheets to the east of our hill.
Crossing several transverse dykes and a series of " tortoise-
shell " boulders, we reached the bottom of the talus at dawn.
The dark walls and pinnacles of Mawenzi gradually became
visible in the growing daylight, and the incomparable lustre
of Venus slowly died away as the sun rose.

The ground at this point was moist and boggy, and was
covered with green, springy turf, abundantly marked with
the footprints and droppings of the eland. The altitude we
ascertained to be 15,260 feet. Continuing our way upwards,

FIRST ASCENT OF MAWENZL 167

we reached a tiny spring welling up from beneath a large
slab of rock. The water was frozen over, for, although the
sun was already up, its rays do not reach this side of the
mountain until after 10 a.m. Vegetation appeared in patches
among the debris up to a height of 15,420 feet, where we
came upon a second spring and the highest flowering plants
that we observed on Kilimanjaro.

The ascent now became excessively toilsome. At every
step the loose stones gave way beneath our feet, and every
few minutes we had to pause to take breath. Turning for a
moment to look back, Ave could see beyond the sunny slopes
of Kibo the level plain of Nyiri slumbering in the morning
light, while to the left, from among the stratus clouds of the
steppes, towered the magnificent cone of Meru, like some
vast Cyclopean pyramid.

And now began the most breakneck bit of climbing it has
ever been my lot to experience. Turning to the left when
about two-thirds of the way up the talus, we began the ascent
of the lava cliffs that fence it in on one side. Tying ourselves
together by the rope, we worked our way gradually upwards
for another hundred feet, through the openings of vertical
fissures, and along the narrow ledges and pinnacles of the
lava beds, which here dip towards the north. Purtscheller
went first, and, although he is so short-sighted that he is
obliged to wear spectacles, he displayed the most surprising
aptitude for finding a way round awkward corners and along
the face of dizzy precipices where to proceed seemed im-
possible. Once he disappeared from view through a cleft,
and I heard him call out that without wings it was impossible
to go any further ; but a few yards to the right we managed
to find a footing. First the ice-axes (which were worse than
useless to us on this occasion) were slung over by the rope,
then I followed — always trying the ledges before I ventured

i68 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIETEEX THOUSAND FEET.

upon them ; for, although they had borne Purtschcller's
weight, it did not follow that they would bear mine, as I am
a man of heavier build than he is. As often as not they
gave way, and much time and trouble was lost in seeking a
firmer foothold. We had to work with our hands as much
as with our feet, for the steepness and jaggedness of these
lava cliff's is without parallel. A dozen of times I was left
suspended in mid-air, clinging to the rope or jammed fast in
the jaws of the cleft we were attempting to cross, while the
crumbling rock gave way beneath me, and went crashing
into the depths below. Sometimes we had to crawl on our
stomachs along a ledge eighteen inches wide, and sometimes
we had to Avriggle ourselves upwards between two smooth
faces of rock, by squeezing our knees and elbows against the
sides. We had no time to think of anything but the work of
the moment — every nerve and muscle was strained to reach
the jagged zigzag above. In case we should have to return
the same way, as we went along we marked our route with
pieces of red paper weighted with stones, but it must be
confessed we both fervently hoped the precaution would prove
needless.

Three and a half hours of this desperate climbing on
hands and knees brought us at length to the narrow col
along which we hoped to make our way to the line of peaks
above. When still a short distance from the foot, on look-
ing up I suddenly caught a glimpse of the sky on the other
side, not above the col, but through a rent which here split
it in two. The crumbling wall of lava was barely more than
a yard broad, and looked as if it Avere scarcely strong enough
to bear our weight. There was no choice, however, and,
come what might, we resolved to risk it.

Viewed from this point, the jaggedness of the mountain
summit beggars all description. The rock is so brittle, and is

CHECKMATED. 169

cut and carved into such countless points and spikes and teeth,
that I can only compare it to the edge of a saw. The wonder
is how it has escaped being entirely weathered away. Although
there was scarcely a breath of wind, the sound of falling frag-
ments sounded continually in our ears, showing how utterly
rotten is the material of which the rock is composed.

Partly along the top of the crazy parapet, partly close
beneath it, we slowly made our way to its apparent point of
junction with the central crest. Our prospects of success
•looked tolerably hopeful, and our spirits rose accordingly.
Judge of our disappointment and chagrin when we suddenly
saw a tremendous chasm yawning at our feet, and completely
cutting us off from the loftier peaks beyond.

For a moment we felt completely checkmated ; then, re-
membering our recent achievements on Kibo, we plucked up
heart again, and, since nothing more was to be made of the
summit for that day, resolved to see what it was like on the
other side of the ridge along which we had ascended. To
descend on that side of the mountain promised at least to
be easier than to return by the way we had come, and,
having ascertained that the altitude was 16,700 feet, we
turned to commence the descent. After we had climbed
downwards for a little way, we again reached a talus of
debris, down which we slid at a rapid rate, until we were
once more suddenly brought up short on the edge of a
precipice running sheer downwards to a depth of 600 or
700 feet. Fate seemed to be against us, and it almost
looked as if we were to be beaten here again ; but at length,
after an anxious search, I succeeded in discovering a narrow
channel choked with ice — the only ice we saw on Mawenzi.
We had to proceed with the utmost caution, letting our-
selves down with the rope. It was by no means an easy
matter, and every moment we were in danger of being

i;o TEN DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

crushed to death by the avalanches of stones which con-
stantly kept falling from above. We had got about half-
way down, when crash came a tremendous volley, and then
another and another, following each other with alarming
rapidity. Dodging this mountain artillery as best we might,
we at last reached the bottom of the precipitous talus, and sat
down under the shelter of the biggest boulder we could find,
and had our first rest and the first morsel of food that day.

It was half-past two o'clock, and the clouds were sweeping
and swirling in misty wreaths around the peaks overhead.
On all sides the cliffs rose precipitously to a height of over
2000 feet, culminating in the mighty wall that is crowned
by the topmost pinnacle of the mountain. The diversity
of colour displayed in the superimposed layers of different
kinds of lava was perfectly marvellous, ranging from dull
yellow to light red through greyish blue, green, brown, and
a variety of other shades. It was a veritable geologist's
Paradise — the Promised Land of the mineralogist and the
petrographer.

Rounding the lower end of a rugged ridge of red lava,
which runs westward from this point, we continued our way
downwards past a low circular crater some 120 paces in
diameter, and after another two hours' scramble in the
driving mist arrived at last in camp, where we found Mwini
anxiously awaiting us.

In the evening, large numbers of rock-swallows came
circling round our camp-fire, and, with our old friends the
cheery little stonechats, helped to enliven our loneliness with
their pleasant twitter. After dark we sat watching the grass-
fires in the southern plains — here creeping along like some
gigantic fiery serpent, there flickering and twinkling like the
lights of a great city. But all the lights of earth grew pale
and commonplace before the brighter effulgence of the lights

A FIND. 171

of heaven, wondrous among which was the silver cone of the
zodiacal light, its base resting on the far horizon, its apex
stretching upward to the Scorpion, with a radiance which
outshone the chastened glory of the Milky Way.

Before returning to make another attempt on Mawenzi on
October 15th, we were compelled to grant our throbbing limbs
the luxury of a day's rest. I spent the time taking a round
of angles with the theodolite, and at midday took a second
observation for latitude. Mwini, whilst on his way to the
spring for water, had been doing a little exploration on his
own account, and returned triumphantly cariying an empty
tin, which, judging from the brilliant legend still legible
thereon, had once contained mock-turtle soup. It had pro-
bably been left behind by the English hunting-party under
Jackson and Harvey, who were known to have spent some
time in this neighbourhood. On the principle of letting
nothing be lost, we turned the tin to account as a water-
pitcher.

Shortly after noon we were suddenly overtaken by a
tremendous storm of sleet and hail, which in less than
half-an-hour sent the thermometer down with a run from 79°
to 40° F. A thick mist settled round us for the rest of the
afternoon, but it cleared away towards sunset, and once
more the weather promised well for the morrow.

We had come to the conclusion that our best plan would be
to ascend the great western talus a second time ; but, instead
of turning aside to the lava wall on the left, we resolved to
make straight for the great notch in the central crest, from
which we hoped to find a way, if not to the loftiest pinnacle
of all, at least to one of its near neighbours. But our great
intentions very nearly came to grief for that day, at any rate,
through a too zealous adherence to the same excellent prin-
ciple which had prompted the preservation of the empty soup

172 TEN DAYS ABOVE EIFTEEX THOUSAND FEET.

tin. We had both partaken too freely of some over-ripe
bananas, which we thought it would be waste to throw away,
and the result was a violent colic, which kept us awake the
better part of the night. Nevertheless, at half-past five in the
morning we decided to make a start, and left our tent just as
dawn was beginning to break. The moon was still up, and
Venus glowed in the heavens with remarkable brilliancy.

We were both still too much taken up with our inward
sorrows to be very lively company, and scarcely a word was
spoken as we tramped on one behind the other to the foot of
the heap of detritus. We stopped a few seconds to recover
breath on the little patch of turf half way up the talus
(15,260 feet), and, although the temperature was six degrees
below freezing-point, the water was trickling freely from its
rocky source.

From this point we followed our old track for a consider-
able distance, then, turning to the right, kept on directly
towards the central crest, the bottom of which we reached
shortly after seven o'clock. The altitude we found to be
16,400 feet.

From ledge to ledge and ridge to ridge we now toiled
slowly and painfully upwards on our hands and knees, till we
reached a narrow neck of rock somewhat nearer the highest
point than the notch we originally had in view. Half-an-
liour later, with the aid of the rope, Ave managed to scramble
to the summit of the towering mass of rock on our left, and
then saw that between us and the goal of our desires, which
was about four hundred yards distant, there yet lay two
jagged peaks. The ridge on which we stood was so narrow
and so broken that it was utterly impossible it could bear
the weight of two men. To seek to pass round by the base
of the peaks seemed an equally hopeless venture, and once
more we had to acknowledge ourselves foiled.

SECOXD ASCEXT OF MAWEXZL 173

A fresh breeze blew from the north-east, and the clear atmos-
phere favoured a view on almost every side. Only the eastern
plains were concealed by a bank of mist, but above this, on
the horizon, rose the mountains of Taita, Usambara, and Pare,
Our immediate surroundings presented a spectacle far more
wonderful and interesting. We stood on the brink of an
abysmal gulf, surrounded by an array of peaks, and spires, and
craggy pinnacles impossible to describe. On this, its eastern
side, from an altitude of about 16,830 feet, the mountain
sinks sheer downwards into a gigantic cauldron, the sides of
which are scarred with innumerable rugged ravines. As we
gazed from our dizzy height upon the hills and valleys, the
streams and bushes, the endless profusion of gullies and
gorges 6000 or 7000 feet below, it seemed as if we had
a bird's-eye view of earth from a balloon. I was at first
inclined to believe that here we had the original vent of
the ancient volcano, but I could not reconcile this sup-
position with the prevailing dip of the beds of lava — at
all events I could not be quite sure of it. Next to the
Kibo crater, this was the most wonderful sight we saw on
Kilimanjaro.

Nothing could be more marked than the contrast be-
tween the external appearance of these two extinct volcanoes
— Kibo with the unbroken, gradual slopes of the typical
volcanic cone — Mawenzi with its bewildering display of
many-coloured lavas and its fantastically carved outlines, the
result of long ages of exposure, combined with the tendency
of its component rocks to split vertically rather than horizon-
tally. The hand of time has left its impress upon Kibo
too, but the havoc it has wrought is not to be detected at
a distance. From where we were standing, the icy dome
stood out in clear relief against the azure background of the
sky. The Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak was plainly discernible,

174 TEX DAYS ABOVE EIFTEEX THOUSAXD FEET.

and we could even make out the position of the cone of
eruption within the crater.

Once more the midday mists began to draw towards the
summit of the mountain, warning us that it was time to
depart. In the excitement of chmbing, the morning's indis-
position had been long ago forgotten, and as soon as we had
made the descent of the ridge of rocks we gladly laid aside
the rope and commenced a headlong scramble down the talus.
Meeting with no obstacle worth mentioning, we were soon
at the bottom, and by noon were taking our ease, if not
exactly in our inn, at least in what was nearly as good — the
comfortable neighbourhood of our cheery camp-fire.

A pleasant surprise awaited us. Besides a fresh supply
of provisions for the delectation of our souls, which seemed
daily growing more material at the expense of our bodies, the
men from below had brought a packet of letters and papers,
forwarded to us from the mission station in Moji. A delight-
ful hour was spent in the perusal of home and coast news,
which we read between the whiffs of a fragrant cigar, one of
a bundle of choice Havanas thoughtfully included in the post-
packet by friend Steifensand of Zanzibar. Even a snowstorm,
which came down on us in the course of the afternoon, failed
to disturb the equanimity produced by these gifts of the gods,
though our little tent afforded us but scanty shelter. By
sunset there was an inch of snow on the ground as far as the
lower edge of the plateau, and during the night the thermo-
meter fell to 16° below freezing-point.

In order to tell the story of our three ascents of Mawenzi
continuously, we must here anticipate the actual course of
events by a few days, omitting in the meantime the account
of two ascents of Kibo which we made in the interval.

This time we resolved to attack Mawenzi from the
north, in the hope of meeting with better success than had

MAWENZI FROM THE NORTH-WEST. VIEW FROM THE
SADDLE PLATEAU (14,400 ft.).

VIEW TO THE NORTH OF MAWEXZI. 175

crowned our efforts hitherto. In the event of a third failure
to reach the summit, we consoled ourselves beforehand with
the thought that we should at least learn something of the
character of the north side of Kilimanjaro, a region as yet
totally unexplored.

On October 21st, at the usual hour — half-past five — we
were up and on the way. The moon was in its last quarter ;
consequently, owing to the want of light, our progress was
somewhat slow. The sun was already up when we reached
the rocky ridge which here runs downward in a north-westerly
direction as a continuation of the central crest.

It seemed that once again w-e were doomed to defeat, for
even at this distance we could see that it would be a mere
waste of time to attempt to approach the summit from this
side. The morning was bitterly cold, the aneroid in my coat-
pocket registering a temperature of only 11° Fahr., and,
spite of thick woollen gloves, my fingers were soon quite
benumbed. Hurrying on over the heaps of blocks and
boulders, by degrees we got warmed up, and felt richly repaid
for our toil and trouble when at length the northern plains
became visible through the morning mists.

At last we found the way barred by a precipitous wall of
lava, which seemed to forbid farther progress in a northerly
direction. But Purtscheller's unerring instinct once more
stood us in good stead, and with no w^orse accident than some
slight scraping of shins and elbow^s, we managed to find a way
to the top (15,190 feet). Here we had an unobstructed view
of the northern slopes of the mountain and of the plains
below. All was loneliness and desolation. jSTo smiling fields,
no cosy village met the eye ; the boundless wilderness, the
happy hunting-ground of the lion and the hyena, stretched on
and on for miles into the dim grey haze of distance.

Beneath us, the forest zone was bounded by a belt of grass-

176 TEX DAYS ABOVE EIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

land above and below, but there was nothing resembling the
fertile terrace of Jagga on the southern side of the mountain.
The forest itself is neither so dense nor so broad, and gradually
tapers away towards the west. In the midst of the plains, at
a distance of about twelve miles from the edge of the forest,
there is a belt of lake-like marshes, fed by two rivulets rising
on Mawenzi and by a stream from Kibo. Between the base
of Kilimanjaro and the distant mountains of Kiulu in the
north-east, the wdiole region is plentifully dotted with small
parasitic cones. Everywhere there are marked traces of
volcanic activity, and, if I am not mistaken, I saw clouds of
steam issuing from a conical peak far to the north.

We had now reached our most northerly point, and turn-
ing in an easterly direction, we took our way across one of the
huge tali of debris of such frequent occurrence on the sides of
Mawenzi. It was bounded at its farther extremity by a line
of cliffs, at the bottom of which (15,420 feet) w^e discovered a
tiny lakelet, sparkling like a jewel in a setting of gladsome
green. Sixteen hundred feet above towered the titanic
rampart of the central crest, unapproachable here as else-
wdiere.

Where the north-eastern ridge starts from the massive bar-
rier above, there is a deep notch, which we had kept in view
as a point at which to aim. We reached it about half-past
nine, and were once more confronted by the great abyss on
whose w^estern brink we had stood wdien we reached our
highest point on the second ascent. More than ever I
felt inclined to believe that this was the original crater of
Mawenzi, but even yet I cannot quite make up my mind on
the subject. Our altitude was 16,140 feet.

Beyond the yawning cauldron and the rocky spurs below,
we had a magnificent view over the plains to the east and
south-east, from the conical Julu mountains on the left to

LAST ASCENT OF KIBO. 177

the mountains of Taita and the distant ranges of Pare and
Ugweno on the extreme right. The most attractive features
in the landscape are its three lakes, Jipe, Jala, and Tsavo —
Jipe long and narrow, Jala round and rock-girdled, Tsavo
many-branched and marshy. Narrowing the vision so as to
take in the lower zones of Kilimanjaro, we once more caught
a glimpse of the green banana plantations of Jagga, the
eastern states of Rombo, Msai, Mwika, and Marangu lying
close beneath the shaggy girdle of the forest.

We set our faces campwards shortly after midday. On
the way back, Purtscheller never ceased to lament that again
we had failed to achieve the primary object of the morning's
enterprise — the final ascent of the summit. It was no doubt
a deep disappointment to both of us, but I thought that on
the whole we had great reason to be satisfied with the results
of our day's work. The objects of my expedition were prin-
cipally geographical, and in a geographical aspect the present
excursion had proved most valuable, if only for the excellent
opportunities it had afforded us of studying the topography of
the region. In this respect we had omitted nothing essential,
and although it is true that had we been successful in reach-
ing the summit we should have felt our task to be more
complete, still under the circumstances I did not feel justified
in wasting further time on this difficult undertaking. I leave
it to some aspiring explorer of the future, who may perhaps
find a way to snatch his laurels from the rugged brow of
the hoary Mawenzi.

AVe had still work to do on Kibo. I could not consider
my survey of the peak complete until I had explored its
northern aspect — as yet totally unknown — and approached
the summit from a different point, in order to perfect my
observations of the crater by viewing it from both sides.

i;8 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

With these ohjccts in view, we left our camp on October
17th, shortly after 3 a.m., and set out in a north-westerly
direction across the broad sheets of mud and ashes to the
north of the hills on the saddle. A tramp of two hours and
a quarter brought us, shortly before sunrise, to a wide hollow,
which stretches from the north-eastern base of Kibo to the
grass-lands below. The north and north-eastern sides of the
peak are traversed by long lines of debris, a number of which
converge at the head of the hollow and extend downwards
as a broad talus. Above, the lower limit of the ice-cap
lies evenly along the rim of the crater, without any of the
tongue-like processes by which it is distinguished to the
south.

Commencing the ascent, we were obliged to cut ob-
liquely across a series of ravines choked with debris and
separated by ridges of lava, the passage of which was ex-
cessively tiresome and difficult. Towards the east the shift-
ing panorama of cloud and sky grew ever more wonderful as
we ascended. On our ever-widening horizon the overarching
vault of sunny blue seemed to rest on a broad band of rosy
vapour, gradually melting into the veil of soft grey haze which
hid the plains. The lower slopes of the mountain were clear,
showing first a broad belt of sand and debris at a height of
about 13,000 feet, then a stretch of pasture-land studded with
bushes, and lower down an interrupted strip of forest, which
gradually thinned and disappeared towards the west. Here
and there among the trees a curling column of smoke told
of the kraals of wandering Masai, or of their semi-serfs, the
Wa-ndorobbo, mIio gain their livelihood solely by the chase.
The forest being here so comparatively scanty, and there being
absolutely no cultivated zone, it is easy to understand how
the herds of eland come up from the plains to the saddle
plateau, where from time to time we had seen them grazing.

MORE EAST AFRICAN GLACIERS. 179

On the north side of the mountain we had hoped to find
a comparatively easy way to the ice-cap, for another traveller
relates that he here succeeded in reaching it provided only
with a stick. I am sorry to say we were sadly disappointed.
After five hours' hard climbing in a north-westerly direction,
over the ridges of lava and the hollows which separated
them, we were forced to give in. At an average elevation
of 18,700 feet the ice abruptly rose above us as a compact,
continuous wall, 100 to 120 feet high, and we were soon
convinced that it was impossible to scale it without the
assistance of a number of men, and every facility which the
science of Alpine climbing could supply.

At an altitude of 18,570 feet we sat down to rest by the
side of a forked glacier, from whose lower end the melting
ice issued in the form of two small streams. The glare of
the sun was intense, and a mysterious rustling, crackling
sound went on continuously in the rents and cracks of the
icy wall above. Whilst I was occupied with taking bearings,
Purtscheller propped himself against a block of lava, and gave
proof of his enviable power of going to sleep at any moment
and in any position. Just before midday, however, the mists
began as usual to draw towards us ; so putting away the
instruments, we began to make the best of our way down-
wards.

Crossing the series of ridges and hollows — sixteen in
number — at a lower level than in the course of the ascent
in the morning, at a height of 15,910 feet we came upon a
small glacier occupying the space between two ridges, which
had evidently originated by a fall of ice from above. Here
we refreshed ourselves with a draught of the beautifully
clear water which issued from it, and resumed our way down-
wards along the bottom of the wide hollow we had crossed
in the morning. Slipping and sliding among the loose debris,

i8o TEX DAYS ABOVE FIETEEX THOUSAXD FEET.

we by-and-by discovered that we had passed the level of the
saddle plateau ; and thereupon we had to retrace our steps
and make our way upwards again, which prolonged our ten
hours' climb by yet another hour of hard work. It was
almost six o'clock when we came in sight of our little tent,
looking very cosy and inviting in its sheltered nook beneath
the shadow of the hill behind. From afar our ears were
greeted by Mwini's jubilant shouts, informing us of the
welcome arrival of cooked fowls and " soft " beans. It was
"virtue rewarded" once more. We had never yet returned
from any of our excursions without finding some pleasant
surprise awaiting us in camp ; and I must say I think we
enjoyed our commonplace fare, more than many a sated
Alpine tourist the Pommery and Greno of his luxurious
hotel.

Rather than risk being beaten back from the summit of
Kibo a second time, on preparing to make our last ascent,
we resolved once more to bivouac some way up the peak.
To this end we had selected, on our way back from the
exploration of the north side, a spot to the north of the
" Triplets," that promised excellent shelter in the caves
between the boulders with which it was strewn. It was
situated immediately beneath the great notch in the ice-cap
towards which I had unsuccessfully aimed in 1887, and now I
was determined to give it one more trial.

Mwini Amani did not seem greatly to relish the prospect
of another night so near the stars, and pulled rather a wry
face when our proposals were mooted to him. Nevertheless,
when we set out for the heights at two o'clock in the after-
noon of October iSth, he stood ready to follow us with the
sleeping-sacks and blankets, while we. as before, did our best
to grapple with the rest of our belongings. The day was
clear and bright up here on the saddle, and it was strange to

"FOSSIL REMAINS." i8i

watch the great masses of clouds sailing slowly towards us
from the south and north, and see them mount suddenly
upwards and melt into space as they reached the edge of
the plateau.

The caves (15,390 feet) were reached shortly before five
o'clock. They are simply caused by the manner in which
the blocks of lava have accidentally fallen together ; and in
one of them — a large roomy chamber with a narrow opening
— we found everything that could be desired in the way of
a sleeping-place.

Imagine our astonishment, on entering into possession of
our eligible quarters, when we discovered that we were by no
means the first occupants. Close to the entrance were traces
of a recent fire, with a number of bones belonging to some
large animal, probably an eland, and some rags of banana
matting. The tell-tale footprint on the sand was not more of
a surprise to Crusoe on his desert island. Even Mwini forgot
liis accustomed air of lofty indifference so far as to indulge in
a series of undignified *' clicks."

From the nature of the remains, we saw at once that we
had not lighted on the scene of any former European encamp-
ment, and it was equally certain that none of the Wa-jagga
tribes would have ventured thus far up the mountain. We
came to the conclusion, therefore, that the former tenants of
our cave must have belonged to the Wa-ndorobbo, parties of
whom are known to follow the chase into remote districts of
the mountain, though ^|!e had not before suspected that they
penetrated thus far. Apparently, having succeeded in bring-
ing down their game, they had stayed to " make a night
of it " on the spot. It was another discovery of " fossil
remains " to add to that of the empty soup tin and the Sal-
vation Army newspaper.

During the night we experienced the hitherto unpre-

1 82 TEX DAYS ABOVE EIFTEEX THOUSAND FEET.

cedented temperature of 7° Fahr., but slept comfortably
enough till about a quarter to four, when we awoke to find
the moon ready to light us on our upward way. For three
hours we climbed over a talus so steep and so extensive as
quite to put to shame anything of a similar kind to be met
with in the Alps. The angle of the slope was at first com-
paratively slight, but afterwards increased abruptly to 30° or
35°. Leaving on the left the depression up which I had
attempted the ascent in 1887, we crossed a number of trans-
verse ridges, and, pressing steadily upwards, shortly before
sunrise reached the upper end of the talus, at an altitude of
18,040 feet.

A bitterly cold wind was blowing from the north, and we
availed ourselves of the friendly shelter of a neighbouring
rock to snatch a much-needed rest of half-an-hour. Here we
watched the sun as he leaped up triumphantly from behind
the rocky pinnacles of Mawcnzi. The plains below were
hidden by a thick layer of heavy cumulus clouds, high
above which, in the south, floated distinctly marked dark
flecks of cirrus, moving slowly towards the south-west.
Kibo above, the plateau beneath, and Mawenzi facing
us, shone grey and brown and red in the rays of the
morning sun.

"We continued our way upwards along ridges of weathered
lava and obsidian, displaying all the colours of the rainbow in
marvellously beautiful combinations. Slowly but surely w^e
approached the ice-cap, and at last, at half-past seven, arrived
at its lower limit at an altitude of 18,910 feet. Immedi-
ately above us was the great notch on the eastern side of the
crater ; to the left, 600 or 700 feet below, was the wall of
ice which had efiectually barred my progress in my former
attempt to reach the summit from this side. To the right
the ice extended in an unbroken line towards the north,

o
o

THE KIBO CRATER FROM THE WEST. 183

presenting a slightly overhanging series of massive cliffs of
nearly uniform height.

Pausing only to get our ice-tackle in order, we commenced
the ascent of the ice-cap, which at first proved so slippery and
so steep that once more we were obliged to have recourse to
the tedious process of hewing steps. About ten minutes of
this work brought us to the notch, whence, from a different
standpoint, we again had a full view of the crater. Here
projecting points and bosses of rock were visible through
the ice, and everything seemed to promise such easy progress
that Purtscheller gave it as his opinion we should reach the
cone at the bottom in an hour, and be back in camp by mid-
day. A little experience of the nieve 2^<'nitente surface of the
ice ahead soon caused us to modify our sanguine expecta-
tions, and presently we were beset by a series of obstacles
which sufficiently proved the wisdom of the pithy adage which
forbids the counting of chickens before they are hatched.

The ice-sheet stretched in a compact mass to the foot of
the small central cone below, and its surface was tremendously
weathered by sun and wind. Without wasting much time
in reflection, we plunged into our difficulties forthwith, and
soon became involved in a chaos of ruts and rents and jagged
points, amid which it was next to impossible to find a footing.
Often, when we thought we had succeeded in doing so, the
brittle crust gave way beneath us, and we found ourselves up
to the armpits, struggling to extricate ourselves from the
jaws of a crevasse. Needless to say, our hands were soon
bruised and bleeding, and-, in spite of warm gloves, our fingers
were perfectly benumbed.

We were about half-way through this terrific bit of work
when we came upon what was perhaps as wonderful a dis-
covery as any we made on Kilimanjaro, It almost savours
of the fabulous, but here in this stern frost-bound region, at

1 84 TEN DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

the very summit of a mountain 20,000 feet high, Ave liglited
on the dead body of an antelope — one of the small species we
had noticed on the pasture-lands below. How the animal
came there it is impossible to say. In all probability it had
made its way upward by the same path as ourselves at a time
when the ice was covered with its winter coating of snow,
and, overtaken in these lofty solitudes by the fury of a
mountain-storm, had paid with its life the penalty of its
adventurous curiosity.

At the end of three-quarters of an hour we stood on the
stony ground at the bottom of the crater, and prepared to
continue our way over the terribly fissured ice-sheets which
still lay between us and the brown lavas and ashes of the
central parasitic cone. Having ascertained that the altitude
here was 18,930 feet, we pressed onwards with desperate
energy, until at last Purtscheller drew up short, and declared
that, if I insisted on going forward, he would not answer for
the consequences. It did indeed seem a hopeless struggle ; so
reluctantly I was compelled to relinquish the idea of reaching
the cone, and content myself with a thorough survey of the
bottom of the crater. We lingered until nine o'clock, spend-
ing the time in taking various observations, after which we
made our way up the southern side of the notch to the ice
on the rim of the crater above. The altitude at this point
was 19,240 feet, and the temperature in the sun, as shown
by the ordinary thermometer, was 54° F. The sling thermo-
meter registered only 32° F. We remained here a quarter
of an hour, during Avliich I made a sketch of the crater, and
took a number of bearings.

The view from our present standpoint embraced the whole
of the southern, eastern, and northern aspects of the crater,
and thus enabled us to complete our former survey, and to
confirm the observations already made. The bottom consists

FAREWELL TO KIBO ! 185

of a layer of mud and ashes, partially covered with ice. It
is deepest towards the w^est, in the immediate vicinity of the
great cleft, and highest towards the north, where it is con-
cealed by the vast ice-sheet that stretches downwards from
the rim, and to a large extent overrides the central parasitic
cone. The variety of colour and form displayed in the
grand terrace-like galleries of the sides and in the tumbled
sea of ice below is a spectacle of rare and exquisite beauty.
We did not dare for long give ourselves up to the enjoyment
of it, however, and, tearing ourselves reluctantly away, with
one last, lingering look in the direction of "our" crater and
" our " Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak, we bade farewell to the icy
heights of Kibo, probably for ever.

The descent to the bottom of the notch was a stiffish
bit of work, involving the cutting of a large number of steps ;
but by ten o'clock we were once more on the level of the
outer ring of ice, and continued our way downwards with
all possible speed, in order to escape the fast-gathering mist.
We slid down the stony slopes between us and our cave
in about a fourth of the time it had taken us to climb them,
and, picking up Mwini, who, warned by our shouts, stood
ready waiting for us, without halting to rest, Ave went briskly
forward in the direction of our tent.

On the way we took time to ascend the red cinder cone
on the saddle (14,830 feet), and utilised the opportunity to
ascertain its height, and the main details of its geological
structure. By three o'clock we were "at home," thankful
once more to lay aside ice-axe and knapsack. Evidently
Me had not left the heights a moment too soon, for all the
afternoon they were concealed by a brooding mass of cloud ;
and when at eventide the icy dome once more stood forth
against the rosy background of the sky, it was white with a
fresh coating of newly-fallen snow.

i86 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIETEEX THOUSAXD FEET.

We bade farewell to our camp at the saddle plateau on
the 22nd October. The day before we had been surprised by
the sudden appearance of Ali, the soldier whom, it will be
remembered, I had left in charge of the camp at Marangu,
He was the bearer of evil tidings. The men were mutinous ;
several of them had been flogged ; I must return at once.
There seemed indeed to be nothing else for it, and thereupon
we resolved to consider our work in the upper regions of
Kilimanjaro at an end. Upon the whole, it had been satis-
factory, and therefore pleasant. Excluding the four days we
had lost whilst I was absent in Marangu at the time of the
dispute with Mareale, we had spent altogether sixteen days
between the altitudes of 15,000 and 20,000 feet. Tn that time
we had made four ascents of Kibo and three of Mawenzi ;
we had reached the culminating peak of the mountain,
ascertained the existence of a great crater at the summit,
discovered the first African glaciers, and made a tolerably
thorough survey of the higher altitudes, the results of our
explorations being recorded in a fairly complete series of
photographs, sketches, notes, and specimens.

In all our efforts we had been ably seconded by our faith-
ful henchman, Mwini Amani, who relieved us altogether of
the thousand and one trifling duties which form such an
irritating yet inevitable part of camp-life. The time that is
wasted in gathering firewood, carrying water, oiling boots,
and doing similar necessary but irksome work, is incalcul-
able ; but ^Iwini was equal to it all, and our hands were left
free for other duties. In one respect only he had failed us —
he was an atrocious cook ; and after one or two attempts to
swallow some of the smoky, unsavoury messes he produced,
we were obliged to fall back on our own resources, and cook
our meals ourselves. This, and the want of a sufficient
supply of water to wash in, seemed far greater hardships than

OUR DAYS OF REST. 187

the early start in snow and wind or a bed overnight in a
hole among the rocks. Only those who have tried it can
understand what it means to be obliged to forego one's cus-
tomary ablutions. The only thing about which Purtscheller
and I ever quarrelled was the washing of the dishes ; not
that we were so overwhelmingly anxious to save each other
trouble, but because each hungered for the luxury of a pair
of clean hands. Camp-life on Kilimanjaro is a capital school
for the practice of self-denial.

But we had much to compensate us for all we had to give
up. The charm of the mountain scenery, the clear, crisp
atmosphere, the tonic of " a labour we delight in," and the
consciousness now and again of success achieved, all went
far to make of our fortnight's arduous toil a happy sequence
of red-letter days.

The days by courtesy called days of rest w^ere never by
any means days of idleness. Early morning saw us up and
doing — photographing, measuring, hunting up specimens
for our various collections — while the plateau lay bathed in a
flood of golden sunlight, and over the forest hung a veil of
silvery cloud. Our geological work was especially delightful.
Beneath the magic stroke of the haminer ordinary, everyday-
looking fragments revealed the most varied and wonderful
mineral treasures. Every rock seemed to differ from another,
not only in form but in substance. In half-an-hour it was no
uncommon thing for us to pick up specimens of as many as
two-and-twenty different kinds.

Our movements in these lofty altitudes were very much
regulated by the state of the clouds. As the sun rose higher
and higher in the heavens, and soft white flecks and misty
wreaths began to float across the heights above, we hastened
to get back from our morning ramble, lest we should lose
the noonday clearness before we had taken the customary

iS8 TEN DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

observation. Sliortly after noon, on each side of the plateau,
distinct upward currents set in from below, bearing aloft the
great grey masses of cloud, and ranging them opposite to
each other in battle array. Just as they rise above the edge
they are caught in the current of the plateau, and whirled
suddenly upward like the smoke from two opposing batteries,
to drift slowly away across the skies on the wings of a higher
current still.

As soon as the sun becomes obscured by the clouds the
temperature undergoes a sudden change. On one occasion,
in the course of a single quarter of an hour, the ther-
mometer fell from 83° to 33° Fahr. ; and whenever the mist
came as the herald of a snowstorm, the fall was even greater.

These sudden changes of temperature largely account for
the tremendous extent to which the rocks of the region are
shattered and splintered. The porous lavas that bulk so
largely in the formations of Kilimanjaro offer but little resist-
ance to the destructive influences of nature, and in many
instances they are weathered to a considerable depth, and
crumble into dust and fragments almost at a breath. Huge
blocks of the more compact species lie scattered here and
there, but they likewise are being slowly worn away, and
the process is assisted by the lichens which cling to their
weathered surface.

To a similar cause, acting in conjunction with equally
sudden variations of moisture, and the fierce struggle for
existence under the most adverse conditions of soil and
climate, the flora of the region also owes many of its char-
acteristic peculiarities. Anything like gregarious vegetation
comprising numerous species and numerous individuals is
only to be met with in especially favoured situations, as on
the detritus heaps on the western side of Mawenzi, or in the
hollows between the hills on the plateau, where there is an

FLORA AND FAUNA OF THE UPPER REGIONS. 189

approach to something like turf; or again under the shelter
of the hill behind our camp on Mawenzi, where the Euryops
bushes occur in fairly large patches, and grow to a height of
about eighteen inches.

All the representative genera, Gnaphalia, Artemisia, Helio-
chrysa, and meadow-grasses, are provided with a coating of
light grey hairs, which serves as a protection at once against
extremes of temperature and extremes of moisture, and has
the effect of producing a close external resemblance among
all the different species. The leaves and flowers either grow
close together in thick concave clumps, to protect themselves
against frost and excessive transpiration, or they creep along
the surface of the earth, for the sake of the extra warmth.
Besides yellow and violet, the prevailing colour alike of leaf,
and stem, and flower is the blue anthocyan tint, which pos-
sesses the remarkable property of absorbing the intense light
of these upper regions, and transforming it into heat.

The animal kingdom is but sparsely represented by a few
rock-swallows, stonechats, lizards, beetles, spiders, and bees,
all of a uniform dark grey colour — a sombre tint which not
only absorbs the rays of the sun, but also makes the animals
invisible to their enemies against the dark background of
the prevailing volcanic rocks.

Every evening as the hour of sunset draws near, the
temperature falls, the wind dies away, the mists disappear,
and once more Ejbo and Mawenzi stand out in all their
majesty. As the sun sinks in purple splendour between the
peaks of Kibo and Meru, the plains below, with their rivers
and mountains, are at their loveliest. But the glorious spec-
tacle is of short duration. Darkness draws on apace, the
stars come out one by one, and with the approach of night-
fall an icy wind sets in from the mountain-top, and it be-
comes intensely cold, the thermometer, which some few

I90 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

hours before may have stood as higli as So"" or 82" Fahr.,
faUing to 6° or 8° Fahr.

When it was announced to the men at the half-way camp
that their stay in the region of cold and mist was about to
draw to a close, they displayed an altogether remarkable
alacrity in hurrying on the necessary preparations. On the
morning of our departure they made their appearance at the
saddle by half-past nine, having left their quarters before
sunrise so as to be able to join us in plenty of time. In ten
minutes they had everything packed and ready for the road,
and set out across the plateau at a good round pace. Half
gladly, half regretfully, 'we bade farewell to the scene of
our recent exploits and adventures, and prepared to follow
our porters along the narrow path, now trodden hard with
daily usage. The men were in high spirits, and laughed
and chattered gleefully as they hurried along. Stopping
only to snatch a refreshing draught of water at the " Schnee-
quelle," we left behind the marshy ground and lonely sene-
cios of the lower edge of the plateau, and, crossing the
stream, entered the dewy grass-lands below. By two o'clock
we were in camp, having accomplished in less than four
hours a march which had formerly occupied two days.

Next morning, along with Mwini Amani, I started off
ahead of the little caravan, in order to have time to take a
few photos on the outskirts of the forest. I had my head
under the cloth and was busy focussing, when I was suddenly
startled by a cry of tembo, tembo (elephants), from Mwini. On
looking up, sure enough there were two stately elephants
leisurely making off in the direction of the trees, among which
they finally disappeared.

\Yithout further adventure we pursued our march down-
wards through the twilight stillness of the forest till we came

TROUBLESOME NEIGHBOURS. 191

■\vitliin sight of the confines of Kilema and Maraugu. Here,
on the hill of Kilema, we were confronted with the unusual
spectacle of a long column of men slowly making its way
upward amid an uninterrupted firing of guns. Knowing that
Mareale and Fumba, the chief of Kilema, were by no means
on friendly terms, I jumped to the conclusion that war had at
length been declared between them. My fears on that score
were relieved, however, by a band of wood-cutters we met,
who told us that the men belonged to a large Swahili caravan
that had just arrived in Taveta on their w^ay to Masai Land.
The detachment we had seen belonged to a foraging party
who had come to Jagga for the purpose of buying food.

But as I thought of my mutinous men this intelligence
suggested a new cause of uneasiness, and with all possible
speed I hastened on towards Marangu. 1 arrived in camp
shortly after midday, and a single glance served to show me
that my fears were groundless — everything was quiet. Even
All's reported mutiny turned out to be nothing more than a
quarrel between the porters and the over-zealous Somal, in
which the latter had got the worst of it, while trying to
enforce discipline by a too liberal application of the whip.

Our arrival was celebrated with endless feasting and firing
of guns, and the evening's rejoicings terminated in a grand
display of fireworks, in which, as a special favour, Mareale
was allowed to let off the rockets himself.

Before setting out on an excursion we now proposed to
make to the mountains of Ugweno, I had intended spend-
ing a few days in our comfortable quarters at Marangu, in
order to rest and put my affairs in order. But my hopes of
a holiday were doomed to disappointment, for the camp was
kept in a state of perpetual turmoil by detachments from the
large Swahili caravan, who came to buy food at the daily
market. Their appearance was the signal for endless quarrel-

192 TEX DAYS ABOVE EIETEEX THOUSAXD EEET.

lings and wranglings, and at last matters reached such a
pitch, that one day I had to sally forth with my soldiers and
clear the compound. Scarcely had we turned our backs,
when a number of shots came dropping over the fence, and a
bullet lodged in one of the posts of Purtscheller's hut. It
was as much as I could do to keep the Somal from returning
the fire, but, ordering the latter to their quarters, I sent a
message to the offenders warning them that if they did not
desist I should speedily find means to make them.

We had peace for one day after that, but on the next there
was a repetition of the firing, and some of the kitchen utensils
came to grief. Thereupon I sent my ultimatum to Mareale — •
either the Swahili caravan must be turned out of Marangu,
bag and baggage, by noon, or I would at once set out for
Moji, and return with reinforcements from Mandara, who, as
Mareale knew, would be only too glad of an excuse to make
war on him.

In answer to this threat, Mareale himself was promptly on
the spot, apparently deeply hurt that I should have doubted
his friendly intentions. He promised that the obnoxious
Swahili should be sent away forthwith ; and sure enough, in
the course of an hour or two, I had the satisfaction of seeing
:hem defiling past on their way out of the state. The Arab
leader of the caravan came to make his apologies for his
men's misconduct, and departed, beaming, with the customaiy
present of cloth and beads. Nevertheless, as the caravan
finally took its leave, one or two stray shots came pattering
into the enclosure, one of them actually snapping a branch
immediately over my tent. *

The unpleasant impression left by this episode was pre-
sently forgotten in the advent of a visitor — Mr. Morris of the
Moji mission. The next few days passed quickly in arrang-
ing our collections and writing letters for Europe, prior to

PREPARATIONS FOR A TRIP TO UGWENO. 193

setting out on the trip to Ug\Yeno, This lovely mountainous
district, lying to the south of Kilimanjaro, had never before
been visited by any European, with the exception of Dr.
Kersten, who travelled along its eastern margin, and made
the interesting discovery of the iron furnaces of Usangi. The
latter state is also occasionally visited by Arab and Swahili
caravans trading in cattle and slaves ; but, as a whole, the
district may be said to be totally unexplored.

By the advice of Mareale, I resolved to approach Ugweno
from the west by way of the Kahe plains, thereafter to cross
the country eastwards to Usangi, descend thence into the
basin of Lake Jipe and the river Rufu, and so back again in
a northerly direction to Marangu. We calculated that a cara-
van of twenty men would be sufficient to carry all that was
necessary for the expedition, on which we expected to be
absent between two and three weeks. It turned out that in
the course of his many wanderings Mwini Amani had once
stayed some time in Usangi, and knew something of the
language. He therefore accompanied us in the capacity of
interpreter.

All our preparations were completed in the course of a
day, and I was not sorry to have the prospect of being once
more on the move, if only to escape from the offensive sights
and smells of our camp, whose very imperfect sanitary
arrangements made it anything but a desirable residence. My
endeavours to get away as frequently as possible from my
disagreeable surroundings nearly cost me dear. It was my
custom every evening to take a stroll, which I generally pro-
longed as much as possible. Returning as usual on the day
before our departure, I sat down to enjoy the evening cool
and quiet, in the brilliant moonlight. Tempted by the beauty
of the night, I sat on musing until quite late, when suddenly
I was awakened by an angry snarl almost at my elbow, as it

194 TEX DAYS ABOVE FIFTEEN THOUSAND FEET.

seemed. Looking up with a swift sense of danger, I saw, not
twenty paces distant, a leopard stealthily creeping towards
me. Unarmed as I was, all I could do was to utter a loud
shout, and incontinently take to my heels. I suppose I must
still have looked rather alarmed when I got into camp, for im-
mediately it went about among the men that the Bwana had
seen a ghost. I did not take the trouble to undeceive them —
in a Swahili caravan you cannot be too careful in preserving
your prestige.

CAMP AT TllK FOOT OF MAWENZI.

CHAPTER VI.

THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY

>/*<=

Stay-at-home folks
are often greatly
exercised to know
how the traveller in
unexplored coun-
tries like Central
Africa is able to find his way
from place to place ; and when
you tell them, " Simply
by means of the native
^^v\\ paths and the native
V ^ guides," they assume an

air of aggrieved surprise, as if you had
||U^^^ done them a mortal injury by men-
tioning such commonplaces in connec-
tion with a region where they have been
taught to expect only the marvellous
and unusual. Nevertheless, the fact re-
mains, however unpalatable it may be to
the sensation-loving devourer of modern
books of African travel.

In East Africa there are paths every-
where, leading from one inhabited dis-
BRAxcHEs OF A DUM PALM. ^^.'^^^ ^q ^]-^g j^g^t. Thcsc arc uot roads

in the usual sense of the term, but mere footpaths, trodden

BABOONS AMONG THE

195

196 THROUGH THE UG]VEXO COUXTRY.

out by long usage, and only wide enough for a single person.
The so-called " great caravan route " is nothing more than
just such a footpath, along which the caravans must pass in
Indian-file.

" For a consideration " in cloth or beads, guides are to
be had almost everywhere ; but there are, of course, guides
and guides, and the really good guide is a vara avis. It
is on your guide that you must depend for all information
as to the country through which you are passing, the names
of the mountains, rivers, and villages, and for other details
that are essential for the construction of satisfactory route-
surveys and maps. It is not enough, therefore, that he
should merely be able to lead the way ; he must also be
thoroughly acquainted with the local topography, or, where
his own knowledge fails, must be able to supplement it as he
goes along. The latter is a task requiring the utmost tact ;
for the natives, unable to appreciate the motives which inspire
the white man's manifold questionings, and, at the best, in-
clined to distrust him as a stranger, either pretend stupidity,
or plead ignorance, or wilfully give misleading answers. The
guides themselves are often guilty of similar malpractices,
but by the exercise of a little tact the desired information is
generally forthcoming. An adroit question now and then,
or, better still, a timely present, is a wonderful stimulant to
the native memory.

As a rule, the inhabitants are exceedingly well up in all the
local surroundings, but in Africa, as elsewhere, they are occa-
sionally so stupid that, though they may have spent all their
lives in a district, they cannot tell the names even of its most
prominent features. Nothing is more aggravating than a
guide of this type, except perhaps his kinsman, the good-
natured guide, who, rather than meet your look of disappoint-
ment when he cannot tell you what to call the river you are

NATIVE GUIDES AND FOOTPATHS. 197

crossing or the mountain that is just visible on the horizon,
confidently mentions the first name that occurs to him, to
your endless confusion and mystification.

A guide — or more frequently two guides, for the sake of
company on the way back — accompanies the caravan from
its starting-point as far as the friendly relations of his tribe
extend, when his place is taken by another, and so on until
the final stopping-place is reached. Sometimes, among the
members of the caravan, a man may be found who has been
over the ground before, and so is capable of acting as guide,
like Mwini Amani, for example, who acted throughout the
whole expedition with the greatest tact and intelligence. In
the Kilimanjaro district his knowledge of the language made
me almost entirely dependent on him, and on the Ugweno
expedition he was again our interpreter. No guides were to
be found in Marangu who would accompany us farther than
the Kahe plains, and so far I could afford to dispense with
them, since several of my men already knew the road, and I
had myself partly explored it on my way from Taveta in 1887.

We set out from Marangu on the last day of October,
Besides ourselves, the caravan included seventeen porters, two
soldiers, the headman Abed, four Somal, and the indispens-
able Mwini Amani — twenty-seven in all.

Mareale came to see us off, bringing with him a fine
goat as a parting gift. We were accompanied as far as the
" gate " of the state by the chief's son, a bright little fellow
of five, who marched at the head of the line of laden porters,
proudly carrying the flag. Leaving the banana plantations
behind us, we passed rapidly down the gentle, shady slopes,
with their wealth of bush and twining creeper, and crossed
the deep ravine of the Mabongo at an elevation of S??'^ ^^^^'
Along the winding pathway the men hied merrily on, the
milk and butter of Marangu oozing out at every pore in rivers

198 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

of perspiration, which seemed to afford the easily-tickled
Swahili endless amusement. As we continued the descent,
the wood gradually became more open — more and more inter-
mingled with forms characteristic of the steppes. Soon we
had left it behind altogether, and emerged upon a tree-
less tract covered with gigantic grasses, which the natives
were busy cutting and binding into sheaves, to be utilised as
fodder and bedding for the cattle, or as thatch for their bee-
hive huts. A little farther down, and we were once more
in sight of the great tree steppes, and beheld the massive
mountains of Ugweno rising abruptly from their midst. To
the left shimmered the silvery Lake Jipe, to the right the
sombre green of the Kahe forest showed darkly against the
red of the surrounding plains, and behind, — back in the direc-
tion of Kilimanjaro, — two great white masses of cumulus cloud
hung peacefully in the azure sky, showing where Kibo and
Mawenzi lay wrapped in noonday slumber.

At our old camp by the Himo, which we reached towards
noon, a sad disappointment awaited us. We had been look-
ing forward with pleasure to spending another night in this
charming little nook ; but the large Swahili caravan, which
had already proved such a fruitful source of annoyance to us in
Marangu, had left it little better than a stinking dunghill,
and we were obliged to seek out another camping-ground
some distance off, on the other side of the stream. One
consolation, however, we had in the rich addition we were
able to make to our collection of butterflies from among the
large and varied assortment now attracted to the spot.

Leaving the Himo on our left, the road to Mandara's on
our right, we next morning struck a stony path leading across
the tract of arid steppe, which here slopes gently downward
in the dire(5tion of Kahe. The mountains of Ugweno were
shrouded in heavy rain-clouds, but a swelling hill in the

ABUNDANCE OF GAME. 199

Kahe district still served as a conspicuous landmark. As we
marched along in the direction of the plains, the game every
moment grew more numerous. Herds of antelope, zebra,
and hartebeeste gambolled in the distance ; a male ostrich
strutted solemnly along well out of range ; and a couple
of rhinoceroses, with waving tail and uplifted nostril, stood
suspiciously sniffing the caravan as it wound rapidly past.

We were so much absorbed in watchins: the movements of
the various animals that we lost the path, and in the maze
of intersecting game-paths, which crossed each other in all
directions, we were unable to strike it again. There was
nothing for it but to make straight across country in the
direction of the hill. For an hour we kept on among the
long, coarse grass, and through a small grove of leafless bao-
babs, which might almost have been mistaken for oak trees in
winter, had the broiling sunshine not proclaimed East Central
Africa with such convincing power. Leaving the grove, we
reached the Nassai rivulet, with its overarching tunnel of leafy
raphia palms. Undeterred by the numerous traces of crocodiles
in the soft mud, we waded across, and entered a grove of
dum palms, apparently of boundless extent. The fruit of this
species of palm is about the size of an apple, and has a fibrous,
woody rind, which tastes not unlike St, John's bread — the
" locusts " of our childhood. It seemed to find much accept-
ance with the troops of baboons which swarmed in the
branches, and greedily stuffed their cheeks with the tooth-
some fare.

Crossing the Nassai a second time by an impromptu
bridge made of a fallen tree, we came in sight of the forest
of Kahe, and by-and-by reached the sluggish river Dehu, on
whose farther bank the cosy beehive-shaped huts and green
banana plantations held out an inviting promise of peace
and plenty. It was high time to call a halt, for during

200 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

the long holiday in Marangu the men had become unac-
customed to tramping along burning pathways, and in many
cases their feet were now in a dreadful condition. My supply
of zinc ointment was nearly exhausted before we got them all
doctored that afternoon.

On my journey in 1887, we entered the Kahö district and
pitched our camp in the forest, and so had a splendid
opportunity of observing its most interesting denizens, the
beautiful Guereza monkeys (Colohus Guereza, var. caudatus).
According to the natives, these monkeys never approach the
fields and plantations ; but in the tall " gallery " forest they
are to be seen in little bands of from four to eight, each
troop embracing the members of a single family. Their
presence is first proclaimed by the peculiar humming noise
they keep up incessantly while at rest, and which, when they
are alarmed, ceases abruptly. On the approach of man, the
monkeys do not take to flight, but quietly slip behind some
leafy branch or massive bole, and peer at the intruder with a
curiosity apparently equal to his own. By-and-by the leading
male cautiously ventures out again, gradually drawing nearer,
and stopping from time to time to utter his strange inquiring
cry, which is not unlike the gobbling of a turkey, followed by
a more or less prolonged od. At the sound of a shot, every
head is once more quickly withdrawn, but the creatures do
not take to flight in the usual sense of the phrase. They
bound away in long swift leaps, but there is no undignified
hurrying or scuttling, and it is a beautiful sight to see them
as they spring from bough to bough, their long white tails
and the white fringe along either side of the body streaming
behind them as they go. As the Guereza is difficult to kill,
it is seldom attacked by the natives, though the skins are
much in demand among the Masai, by whom they are greatly
prized as war-mantles.

A THUNDERSTORM. 201

This time, in order to avoid the liongo (toll for right of
way), we did not cross the boundary-line of Kahe, but with a
volley summoned the natives to bring their bananas, millet,
and honey across the stream to our camp, where we secured
them on the usual terms. Like the Wa-taveta, a tribe they
closely resemble in appearance, manners, and speech, the
people of Kahe are vegetarians by compulsion rather than
by choice, fear of the Masai and of Mandara having induced
them to give up entirely the rearing of cattle.

In the course of conversation with several old gentlemen
whose confidence I won by a present of snuff and some
packets of percussion-caps, I gathered that the Dehu is the
name here given to our old acquaintance the Mue, to whose
cradle-song we had listened on the slopes of Mawenzi. Unit-
ing with the Kirerema on the right and the Nassai on the
left, the Mue or Dehu finally joins the Rufu, the most im-
portant river to the south of Kilimanjaro. The Kahe forest
occupies the fork between the Dehu and the Kirerema.

A close, oppressive night, during which the mosquitoes
swarmed in myriads, was brought to a close by a tremendous
thunderstorm. The flashes of lightning followed each other
at the rate of forty to the minute, with an effect which was
literally blinding. The sky seemed to be one vast sheet of
flame ; but I noticed that the electrical discharges mostly
occurred among the clouds, and did not strike the earth.
This fact goes far to explain why the negro, who, as a rule,
stands in such awe of the forces of Nature, has no fear of
a thunderstorm. The storm had come down upon us from
Kilimanjaro, and gradually passed away in the direction of
Ugweno. While it lasted the temperature fell rapidly from
2>z' to 67° F.

Next morning we had a long palaver with the natives, who
seemed peculiarly unwilling to offer themselves as guides,

202 THROUGH THE UGWEXO COUNTRY.

for the very good reason that all former attempts made by
Europeans to penetrate the country of Ugwcno had been
frustrated by the inhabitants at the point of the spear. At
length two young men yielded to the inducements I held
out so far as to pledge themselves to accompany us to the
boundary, distant a march of about a day and a half.

This important matter arranged, we set out at once. For
about two hours the path led along the left bank of the Dehu,
across one of the dazzling salt reaches common to the region,
which was much ploughed up by the hoofs of the numerous
wild animals that are in the habit of coming to lick the salt
or drink the w^ater from the river. Crossing the Nassai for the
third time, close to its confluence with the Dehu, we continued
our w-ay among scattered groves of palm-trees till w^e reached
the gallery forest of the river Rufu, here a stream some forty
feet wide, spanned by a gigantic tree which forms a rough
and ready, and rather slippery bridge.

Here the pathway came to an end, for, although the
Wa-kahe and the Wa-gweno are on friendly terms, they both
live in such terror of the marauding hordes of Masai, w^ho
from time to time scour the plains in this direction, that they
prefer to limit the communication between the two districts
rather than give the common enemy a clue to their w^here-
abouts, such as would be afforded by fresh footprints on a
beaten track. Accordingly, we were once more compelled
to follow the game-paths, so far as they w^ent in the required
direction. Every now and then we startled some solitary
rhinoceros on the way to his accustomed drinking-place.
For a moment the lumbering animal would pause to sniff
and stare, then trot slowly off down some convenient by-
path.

At every sound the two guides stopped uneasily to listen,
then plodded on again bent nearly double in their anxiety that

UGWENO FROM THE PLAINS. 203

no recent trace of the dreaded Masai should escape their notice.
For my part, judging from what I had ah-eady seen of these
redoubtable warriors, I stood much less in fear of them than of
the dense tract of thorny undergrowth through which we were
now passing ; and it was with feelings of no small admira-
tion that I watched my heavily-laden porters, with their
shoeless feet and scanty clothing, as they plunged doggedly
on through the pathless wilderness, under the pitiless glare of
the tropical sun.

We were now visibly approaching the south-western ex-
tremity of the mountains of Ugweno, w^hich here form a
somewhat acute angle as they rise abruptly from the plains.
The great bay formed by the two projecting spurs at the
northern termination of the range was no longer to be seen,
but to the south the mountains stretched away in an unbroken
line as straight and almost as smooth as a wall, and unre-
lieved by any form of vegetation, with the exception of an
occasional baobab, mimosa, or tree-euphorbia.

As we crossed the boundary-line between the volcanic for-
mations of the Kilimanjaro region and the archaic rocks of
Ugweno, the ground gradually began to rise. The rounded
fragments of basalt and lava, probably carried down by the
Rufu, now gave place to beds of crumbling gneiss, in some
places so far decomposed as to form a layer of bright red
laterite soil. Across the wide grey plains of the Rufu the eye
ranged unhindered for miles to where, on the far horizon,
loomed the distant mountains of Sogonoi. Here and there,
from a Masai encampment, a curling smoke-wreath rose lazily
skyward ; but the thought of the Masai no longer troubled us
— we were out of their " beat."

The clouds, which for some time had been gathering
threateningly overhead, now burst in another terrific thunder-
storm, followed by a steady downpour of rain, which lasted

204 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

the whole afternoon, and reduced my shivering porters to
a state of indescribable misery. Every drop of water was
absorbed as it fell by the thirsty earth, and as there was
here neither stream nor ngurunga, to camp w'as out of the
question.

At last, towards sunset, we reached the dry bed of what
in the wet season is a mountain rivulet, the Mrushunga.
At a spot about half-way up the precipitous slope, a belt
of vivid green proclaimed the presence of water, and thither
we now directed our steps along one of a series of converging
game-paths, some of them so broad and regular that they
might have been constructed under the supervision of a Roads'
Committee. In the midst of a shady thicket we pitched our
tent, beside a group of rocky pools, which the recent rain
had filled to the brim with a dark brownish liquid, not very
inviting to look at, but still wholesome enough for drinking
purposes.

The men set to work to make themselves comfortable for
the night, and soon a blazing fire and a warm supper had
restored their customary light-heartedness and good-humour.
As we sat down at our little table in the lamp-light, the full
charm of camp-life in Africa once more stole over me — a charm
which none can know save those who have experienced it.
There is something peculiarly attractive in its very incon-
gruities — in camp, the cosy little tent, the convenient fur-
niture, and the numerous excellent substitutes for home-
comforts ; without, the boundless wilderness, the gleaming
watch-fires of the Masai, the howling of the wild beasts we
had scared from their accustomed drink in g-place. You have
Africa and Europe, savagery and refinement, hardship and
ease, brought together in sharpest contrast ; but each only
ser\^es to enhance the other, and without experience of both
it is impossible justly to estimate the value of either.

IROX ORE. 205

We had as yet seen no signs of human habitation, but
next morning, on a pathway at the foot of the hill, we came
upon some chewed fragments of sugar-cane, from which we
inferred the recent presence of some one belonging to an
agricultural tribe, although all traces of footprints had been
washed away by the rain. Concluding from this that the
path must lead to an inhabited region, we followed it up the
mountain-side, which was here exceedingly steep. At one
place, the ground for a considerable distance was thickly
strewn with fragments of iron ore, which appears to have been
exposed as the result of sub-aerial denudation acting on the
numerous quartz veins by which the gneiss is here intersected.
It is possible also that the ore may have come from the vol-
canic cones in the plain below ; but this I do not think pro-
bable, as the ore occurs in lodes, and is also met with in the
interior and on the eastern side of Ugweno, where there is no
trace of recent volcanic activity.

The Zanzibaris seemed to have no idea of the nature of the
discover}^ and were very much astonished to hear that the
stone was the chuma, of which their knives and chains were
made. One and all they thereupon began to stow away as
many chips as they could conveniently carry, hoping at some
future time to be able to turn them to good account.

Continuing our way upwards, we entered a naiTow ravine,
at the bottom of which was a tiny, thread-like watercourse,
and farther up a small banana plantation — the first we had
seen in Ugweno. Suddenly, on the slopes above, we caught
sight of a group of natives ; but no sooner were they aware of
our presence than they turned and fled precipitately. Our
guides called to them to stop, but they paid no attention, and
in a few minutes the heights above bristled with armed war-
riors, who with loud cries and fierce gesticulations dared us to
advance farther. Calling a halt, we sent up Mwini, Abed,

2o6 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

and the two guides to hold a parley. The warriors imme-
diately squatted themselves in an expectant semicircle, and
the proceedings commenced as usual with a long oration
on the part of the AVa-gweno leader. This was followed by
another and another from different speakers, occasionally inter-
rupted by grunts of assent or disapproval from one or other of
the surrounding audience. This sort of thing went on for two
hours ; then I grew tired of it, and brought the palaver to
an abrupt close by ordering my men to march on. We were
met by Mwini Amani and a deputation of the natives, who
in appearance, manners, and speech resemble the Wa-shamba,
a tribe whose acquaintance I made when in Usambara in
1888. They received us with a mixture of timidity and sus-
picion ; but when I assured them that I was neither a friend
of the Masai nor of Mandara, they became more cordial, and
the spokesman, who was the leader of the band, wanted
to "make brothers" with me. I referred him to Mwini.
" The Mzungu," I said, " makes brothers with none but kings."
Duly impressed by my haughty manner, the warrior offered
no objection, and Mwini stepped forward. With a thorn,
each of the high contracting parties scratched the skin on
his breast till the blood came, the bystanders watching the
operation with intense interest, and accompanying it by a
measured chant. Each next licked a few drops of the other's
blood, and pledged themselves to eternal friendship, the most
frishtful curses beinsr invoked on whoever should first violate
the bond.

The ceremony over, we resumed our way upward through
the creeper-bound thicket, preceded by the entire company.
Reaching a valley rich in maize and banana plantations, we
were met by the main body of the tribe, who treated us to a wild
war-chant, not unlike that of the Masai. The singing ended,
we were conducted to a spot under a group of trees, where

FIRST CAMP IN UGWENO. 207

we pitched our camp, and proceeded to make ourselves as
comfortable as circumstances would permit, though we did
not dare to lay down our arms. I did not much like the look
of our new "brothers." They had never seen even a Swahili
caravan before, and we, of course, were the first Europeans
who had ever visited the district. Nor did they seem inclined
to improve their opportunities by cultivating our acquaintance,
but stood shyly and suspiciously aloof, refusing even to sell
us food until the " Fuma" (chief), Yangobi, had been con-
sulted. As the Fuma lived a whole day's journey farther
north, and my men meanwhile had nothing to eat, we were
obliged to take the matter into our own hands, and during
the night freely helped ourselves to the maize that was still
standing out in the fields.

Having no particular wish to visit Yangobi, whose residence
lay quite out of our route, we resolved next morning to con-
tinue our way towards the interior, where Gamualla, the central
peak of the Ugweno range, rose proudly skywards. The chief
of the Gamualla region was Mafurra, and through his territory
we hoped to reach the eastern district of Usangi, and thence
cross the country to the great bay on the northern side of
the mountains, tow^ards which we had already turned longing
eyes from Marangu.

The Kahe men being duly rewarded and dismissed, we set
out along the valley, trusting to Mwini's knowledge of the
language, which really proved to be considerable, to carry us
through without a guide. We were attended for some dis-
tance by the whole population of the place, who, now that
they saw we were likely to slip through their fingers, were
ready enough to sell us anything we wanted. Several attempts
were made to mislead us as to the road ; but we were not to
be deceived with the path leading to the foot of Gamualla
straight before our eyes.

2o8 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

Fording the marshy Wangobi stream, at the bottom of the
valley, we reached the western spur of the mountain and
entered the basin of the Kisinga, in which were numerous
plantations of sugar-cane. After its junction with the Wan-
gobi, the Kisinga flows in a southerly direction towards the
Rufu plains, where it is gradually lost in a series of marshes.

The Kisinga forms the boundary-line between Yangobi
and MafuiTa, and here we were met by a body of armed warriors,
who bade us welcome in the name of their chief. Under their
escort we skirted the bare wall of rocky precipices which runs
out towards the Rufu plains, and entered a narrow valley rich
in sugar-cane and bananas, the residence of Mafurra. Here,
as in the valley of the Wangobi, a curious feature in the scene
was the apparent absence of dwellings. As a precaution in
case of attack, all the huts are so carefully concealed among
the trees, that, but for the signs of cultivation, one might
almost believe the place to be uninhabited.

On reaching the first plantations, we were immediately re-
quested by our guides to halt ; but, as there was no water near
the spot they had selected for our camp, we declined to do
anything of the sort, and paying no heed to their protests, we
continued our way upwards and proceeded to choose ground
for ourselves. Naturally there was a tremendous sensation,
but all of a sudden the storm lulled — I had set up my
theodolite. This queer-looking, shiny, three-legged thing —
what was it ? Some dreadful engine of sorcery perhaps. And
this mighty magician who appeared to hold converse with the
sun — who was he ? What would he do next ? There was a
respectful silence and a gradual widening of the circle around
me, while the crowd uneasily awaited the course of events.

Meanwhile Mafurra had been informed of what was going
on, and I had scarcely finished taking the midday observation
when he made his appearance attended by a small following.

ARRIVAL AT MAFURRA'S. 209

He proved to be a frail old man, nearly blind with age —
suspicion of the stranger written on his every feature. His
half- grown, half-witted son led him by the hand. The
chief's intentions seemed hospitable, however, for he had
brought a fine fat-tailed sheep along with him ; seeing this,
I made up my mind to be agreeable, and presented him with
a brilliant new fez with a piece of cloth and some beads
for himself and suite. The clouds being propitious, I also
gratuitously informed him that my three-legged familiar pro-
mised rain that day, whereupon the fat-tailed sheep at once
changed hands, its life-blood (of which we each drank a few
drops) sealing the bond which made us " brothers."

The natives now gathered round, eager to sell food — not
so eager, however, but that they demanded the most exor-
bitant prices, asking as much as a doti for a single fowl.
With a whole sheep in the larder, we could afford to be pretty
independent, and eventually we succeeded in getting as much
as we wanted at our own prices. Our prophecy of rain
having been duly fulfilled, our reputation for beneficence was
greatly enhanced, and we even won the general confidence so
far as to obtain the promise of a couple of guides to show us
the way up Mount Gamualla and into the neighbouring state
of Usangi.

I have already referred to the resemblance between the
natives of the Wangobi valley and the Wa-shamba of Usam-
bara. Mafurra's people reminded me very much of another
Usambara clan, the Wa-mbugu, of whom we shall have more
to say hereafter.

The distrust of strangers, so general among the tribes of
Western Ugweno, is not without justification. Their experi-
ence of outsiders consists of one long series of raids on the
part of the Masai and of Mandara, both of whom have for

years been accustomed to look upon Ugweno as a happy

2IO THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

hunting-ground for the capture of cattle and slaves. Genera-
tions of oppression and ill-usage have taught the Wa-gweno
many bad habits, of which perhaps not the least objectionable
is that of stealing M^henever they think they can do so with
impunity. Finding that we had not come to rob or kill, but
were apparently inclined to be friendly, they at once began to
take advantage of our good -nature, by making off with every-
thing they could lay hands on in the most shameless fashion.
It was therefore with no slight feelings of relief that we left
Mafurra's on the 4th of November, and started upwards along
one of the southern spurs of Gamualla. The path wound
through a thicket of tall brackens, with here and there a few
bushes and herbs, but no trees. Having gained the crest
of the ridge which forms the boundary-line of Mafurra's
territory in this direction, Purtscheller and I set off with the
guides to ascend the mountain, a bare rounded peak 6500
feet above the sea-level. When we reached the summit,
everything was enveloped in mist ; but a breeze sprang up,
the mist rolled away, and we had a magnificent view of
the surrounding region. We seemed to stand in the middle
of Ugweno as on the highest island of an archipelago —
the sister peaks of Kiberenge and Lambo in the north-west,
the solitary Ngovi in the north-east, and the lofty chain of
Usangi in the south, separated from us and from each other
by a sea of emerald green. At our feet lay the fertile valley
of Wangobi, stretching away towards the distant Lambo,
while farther to the north the rich colouring of the valley of
Msangeni contrasted pleasantly with the stern grey wall of
Ngovi. Southward again, along the foot of the Usangi range
ran the valley of Kirongaia, the Jego stream meandering
through its midst between smiling fields and the groups of
huts which form the village of Kirije, the residence of Naguvu,
chief of Usangi.

VIEW FROM G AMU ALL A. 211

Beyond the Ugweno country, still farther to the south,
loomed the distant mountains of Pare ; to the east, Lake Jipe
and the Nika steppes ; to the west, the boundless plains of
the Rufu, a shimmering expanse of grey. To the north,
high above all and monarch of all, was Kilimanjaro, tower-
ing skyward zone above zone, its crown now frosted white as
silver with freshly fallen snow.

Pity for our guides, who stood shivering with cold in the
keen mountain breeze, made us hasten down to rejoin the
caravan, after which we bent our steps in the direction of
the charming valley of Kirongaia. All along the path we
met merry groups of women, young and old, hurrying along
to market at Mafurra's, their loads gracefully poised on their
heads, or, with greater appearance of effort, carried on their
backs. They replied to our salutations with a curious
buzzing sound, which, when uttered by a number of them in
chorus, sounded, as Mwini said, exactly like the humming of
bees. Their dress consisted of an apron of hide, and many
of them were tattooed over the lower part of the body —
a token of maternity, as we afterwards learned. Nearly all
wore a thick collar of brass round the neck, a form of orna-
ment also occasionally to be met with in Jagga as a relic of a
fashion now out of date.

We entered the valley of Kirongaia amid song and mirth,
the men all in exuberant spirits. Down the face of the Usangi
mountains on our right numberless rivulets flashed and
sparkled, leaping from rock to rock in foaming cascades as
they hurried to join the brimming Desho, and swell its onward
course through the valley of Lasanti to the eastern plains.
Everywhere the eye rested only on what was beautiful — charm-
ing glimpses of mountain scenery, verdant meadows, cosy huts,
curling smoke-wreaths, and rushing water, an exact counter-
part of the loveliest districts of Usambara. It only wanted a

212 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

herd or two of lowing cattle, and I could have imagined myself
in some mountain valley of Central Europe.

The huts here were of two kinds. Some, as in Usambara,
were of the ordinary beehive or haystack pattern, the roof
resting on the top of the walls and reaching within a few
feet of the ground ; others, as in Jagga, were perfectly
conical, the roof sloping upwards from the earth to a point
in the middle.

Reaching the bottom of the valley about noon, we con-
tinued our way along the banks of the stream, through planta-
tions of sugar-cane, fields of maize, millet, manioc, and sweet
potatoes. The natives were busy tilling the ground with hoe
and mattock, and greeted us with a kindly " yamho " — a sign
that Swahili caravans must sometimes pass that way. On the
top of a hill, at a point where the river took a sudden bend
towards the north-east, stood the kraal of the chief Naguvu,
surrounded with a palisade in the Usambara fashion. The
spot is called by the Wa-gweno, Kirije.

In response to a volley from our guns, there appeared a
party of athletic young warriors, armed with firearms like our-
selves. In the most friendly manner we were conducted to a
camping-place at the foot of Naguvu's hill, and there, in the
course of a few minutes, pitched our tent under the astonished
eyes of the bystanders, and unfurled our little flag to the
breeze. The latter was regarded with special reverence as a
new kind of daiua (medicine) of mysterious import.

From the nature of our reception, which was not belied
on closer acquaintance, it was easy to see that the people of
Usangi were accustomed to meet strangers on friendly terms.
Both Mandara and the Masai are glad to fight shy of Naguvu
and his doughty warriors ; and living thus secure in manly
independence, they have no reason to stint their hospitality
either through fear or through suspicion.

A TEMPTING OFFER. 213

In the evening we had a thunderstorm, and in the midst
of the rain by which it was accompanied Naguvu came to pay
us a visit, the usual body of attendants in his train. The
chief had just returned from some distant merrymaking, and,
to say the least of it, seemed slightly elevated. His effusive-
ness was quite overwhelming. " Long ago, when I was a
boy," he said, holding out his greasy paw, " a white man came
to see our valley " {Dr. Kersten, the companion of Von der
Decken), " and now that I am old, here is another. The first
mzungu went away and returned to his own people, but I
want you to stay with us always. With powerful medicines
you will make my young men strong to conquer all the land
of Ugweno, and in return you shall have as much food and
as many wives as you please."

Notwithstanding these tempting inducements to a pro-
longed stay, I explained that my visit could not be extended
beyond another day, but promised to do my best for him
in the way of medicines. With this my swarthy friend was
obliged to be content, and took himself off apparently well
satisfied with the interview.

I have called Naguvu swarthy, but he might more correctly
be described as ruddy, for his whole body was covered with
a coating of red clay and grease, which shone in the lamp-
light like polished mahogany. With his protruding eyes
and thick sensual lips, the chief of Usangi was by no means
handsome, but everything he did and everything he said
showed that he was unusually good-hearted. His hospitality
was unbounded. In the evening he brought us a present of
a goat, and in the morning he added a fine fat cow. In return
for these we sent him a supply of cloth, beads, powder, and
percussion-caps.

The inherent brutality of the negro nature was strongly
brought out in a revolting incident which happened at the

2 14 THROUGH THE UGIVENO COUNTRY.

slaughter of the cow. When the men tried to lead her away,
the animal proved obstinate, and stood with angry eyes and
lowered horns ready to dash at any one who approached her.
At last, impatient for the coming feast, one of the Swahili
crept up in the rear of the maddened brute, and with a single
cut severed the tendons of the hind-legs. With a bellow of
agony the cow sank to the ground, amid the exulting plaudits
of the onlookers. My blood boiled at the disgusting sight,
and in a moment I had the miscreant sprawling on his back
with a blow from the butt-end of my gun ; the next, I had put
his victim out of pain by a shot through the forehead. There
was a general outburst of amazed indignation, and a rush
to open the animal's jugular vein, a Mohammedan rite never
omitted by these worthy followers of the Prophet, who, how-
ever lax in morals, are strict enough in all matters of cere-
monial observance.

The goat, which was exceedingly tame, we kept as a
pet, and for many days her funny little pranks furnished us
ample amusement. We christened her Adelheid, after a lady
friend to whom we fancied she bore a striking resemblance
in profile.

On going to return Naguvu's visit, we found his kraal sur-
rounded by a hedge of living dracsenas, through which the only
opening was a narrow doorway, so low that we had to crawl
through it on hands and knees. Within the compound stood
four very dilapidated huts of the Usambara pattern, in which
man and beast dwelt together in Eden-like simplicity. Naguvu
is the happy husband of eight wives, who have the honour of
sharing his hut with him by turns — two at a time. He is
also the father of fourteen children, who, together with their
mothers, gathered to stare at us in round-eyed wonder. It was
a charming family group, no doubt, but it had its drawbacks,
and we were not sorry soon to tear ourselves away, preferring

MAKING BROTHERS. 215

the humble amenities of our plebeian tent to the filth, the
smells, the squalling babies of the royal residence.

The sky being clear, at midday I took an observation for
latitude ; the remainder of the day we spent in photographing,
collecting, and generally getting up information, especially as
regards the native method of obtaining iron from the ore, of
which we shall have more to say hereafter. The people were
everywhere kind, modest, and obliging, and answered our
questions readily.

In the evening I proceeded to give a demonstration of my
powers as a medicine-man. The entertainment took the form
of a grand display of fireworks, which passed off with great
eclat and produced an immense effect. By way of close to
the programme, Naguvu and I were made brothers. The
ceremony was a somewhat lengthy one. The chief and his
warriors having squatted themselves in a semicircle round the
door of our tent, his son appeared carrying a large pot of
pombe made from sugar-cane, while Mwini took a piece of
roast-meat and cut it into strips. Naguvu and I then came
forward and seated ourselves on either side of the pot, and
the former began to repeat a long-winded rigmarole pledg-
ing himself to eternal brotherhood and invoking the most
tremendous curses on all his enemies and on me, if hence-
forth and for ever I did not treat his foes as likewise foes of
mine. During the whole of this tirade, he kept hammering
the pot with a stone, and every time he made a point, he
stopped to emphasise it by throAving a piece of meat into the
pombe. With Mwini's help, I next went through a similar
performance, and acquitted myself to the satisfaction of all
present. After I had finished, Naguvu and I simultaneously
dipped our right hand into the pot, drew out a piece of meat,
chewed and swallowed it. Each of us then spat into the pot,
and a number of privileged spectators having done the same,

2i6 THROUGH THE UGWEXO COUXTRY,

the vessel with its sacred contents was removed, to be treasured
up for ever among the chief's most cherished possessions.

As my new brother showed a tiresome inclination to hang
about me for the rest of the evening, by way of getting rid
of him I made an exception in his favour, and granted his
desire to have one of our flags, in whose magical virtue as a
charm against all evil he profoundly believed. This was the
only occasion on which a native chief received the national
flag at my hands, and I must beg my readers to understand
that I have no sympathy whatever with those travellers who,
wherever they go, seem to make it their mission to leave the
German colours streaming in their wake. In East Africa,
which has been partitioned out by international agreements,
the practice is superfluous, if not indeed ridiculous.

To Naguvu, however, the flag had no significance except
as a charm ; and on seeing the evident delight with which
he and his subjects received it, I could not help wondering
at the persistency with which these savage races believe in
the power of magic, although, from repeated experience of
its ineflicacy, one would think they would gradually learn to
take it at its true worth. The trait is not confined to savage
races only, for superstition mingles inextricably with the
religions of all ; unless indeed an exception is to be made in
favour of Christianity — a question I must leave my readers to
settle for themselves.

We had decided to leave Kirongaia the following day,
and early in the morning Naguvu came to see us off", bringing
with him two young men to act as guides as far as Ngovi, a
mountain lying in the extreme north of Ugweno. Making
towards the lower end of the valley, we passed along the
bush-clad mountain-slopes, and crossed the Jego, now no
longer a mere rivulet, at a point where it makes a sudden
bend eastward. Here the river enters the ravine of Lasanti,

THE JUXGULI VALLEY. 217

where it is joined by the Jungnli from the north, and flows
onward between huge boulders of gneiss, in the direction of
the steppes.

We now bade good-bye to Jego, and followed the course
of the Jungnli northwards up another deep ravine. Far
beneath us on our right foamed the brawling torrent, which
we could hear, but could not see, for a thick mist hung over
everything. As we stumbled along the slippery pathway,
we caught occasional glimpses of fertile valleys opening np
on either hand, all carefully tilled and planted with sugar-
cane and sweet potatoes, and watered by irrigation channels
as in Jagga. The native name of this district is Wambuguni,
and the inhabitants are known as the AVa-mbugu. Tn lan-
guage and appearance they are identical with the Wa-mbugu
of Central Usambara.

The mist lifting for a moment, we had a peep downwards
through the ravine of Lasanti to the south end of Lake Jipe, or
Ipö, as it is pronounced in Ugweno. A winding belt of green
standing out against the red of the steppes marked the course
of the Jego-Junguli until it was lost in a wide swamp not
far from the margin of the lake, with which it possibly has
communication in the rainy season. For a moment, too, the
snowy peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi appeared above the clouds,
but we had no clear view of the whole of Ugweno until after
we had forded the Jungnli — the boundary between the dis-
tricts of Usangi and Ugweno proper — and climbed Mount
Sungo, which, standing isolated like Gamualla, commands
an outlook over the whole northern region. Here, while I
was taking bearings, the men set to work to collect what they
could of the iron ore that lay scattered in fragments over the
ground, but not in any great quantity.

AVe now entered the wide valley of INIsangoni. At first
I thouf'ht we were soing to have rather a warm time of it,

2i8 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

for instead of the friendly natives and friendly greetings
to which we had lately been accnstomed, armed warriors
sprang up around us on all sides, and, with wild yelling and
leaping, did their best to prevent our farther progress. The
Somäl had their hands on their guns in a twinkling, but
Mwini proudly pointed to the wound on his breast, which
bore witness to the bond of brotherhood, while the guides
told how I too had made brothers with Naguvu, and that the
chief desired that the mzungu should be permitted to climb
the mountain of Ngovi in peace. The effect was magical.
At once the threatening din changed to shouts of delight, and
the path lay open to us, though the whole noisy crew came
trooping after us nearly all the way to Ngovi. Here, in the
shadow of the grey walls of gneiss, we camped by the side of
a running stream, the Monya, and soon were exchanging our
cloth and beads for the ample supplies of provisions brought
to us by the friendly inhabitants.

Next morning we ascended to the summit of the mountain,
the height of which is 5580 feet. Thence we descended to
the plains on the other side, through patches of gallery forest
and a series of ravines, reaching the bottom in time to deter-
mine the latitude and catch a splendid side-view of the whole
of Ugweno. A projecting spur hid the great bay on the
northern side of the range, but in the south the massive peak
of Kindorogo, one of the Usangi chain, was plainly visible as
the highest in the region. Eastward lay Lake Jipe, with its
schools of tumbling hippos, its basking crocodiles, and flocks
of large white birds hovering overhead. Of the streams which
flow from the mountains of Ugweno, none ever reach the
lake ; all lose themselves in a series of pools and marshes not
far from the foot of the hills. Its only feeder is the Lumi,
Avhich, flowing from the east of Kilimanjaro, enters the lake
at its northern end, where it has gradually formed a delta

LAKE JIPE AND THE MOUNTAINS OF UGWENO.

.oi4?rwoa ir r G'/TA ?nii. shaj

IRON ORE. 219

and a small island, the haunt of the hippos already alluded
to. As far as we could see, there is no iron ore on Ngovi.

The mist came down on us again as we turned to go
back, and before we reached camp had changed to drizzling
rain. It rained the whole afternoon and evening, and next
morning, when we set our faces towards Taveta, the mist still
lay round us like a shroud. The path was wet and slippery,
and led steeply downwards along the precipitous face of the
wall of cliffs which forms the eastern aspect of the mountain.
In some places it was little more than a foot broad, and every
now and asrain I felt a sudden thrill of alarm as one or other
of our laden porters seemed on the brink of toppling into the
gulf below.

We had not gone very far when a great hubbub arose in
our rear, and, halting to see what it all meant, we were over-
taken by messengers of the chief, Yangobi, who demanded
that we should at once go back to pay our respects to the lord
of the land. As I had not the slightest intention of doing
anything of the kind, I refused point-blank, and the only
reason I had to regret the incident was that our guides at
once struck work and turned back with the chief's envoys.
It was no great loss, however, for there was little fear of our
losing our way with the lake in sight all the time, and only
one path leading downwards towards the plains.

Near the foot of the mountain we again came upon iron
ore, and from the slag and cinders lying about, it was evident
that the iron had been smelted at the place wehere it was
found. By-and-by we saw signs that we were approaching
the region of thorny vegetation, and soon we found ourselves
once more upon the level arid plains, with their patches
of grey-green grass and thorn scrub, and their dry twisting
creepers.

Before we bid farewell to the Ugweno country, let me say

220 THROUGH THE UGWEXO COUNTRY.

a word as to its general aspect and the character of its inhabi-
tants. The prevailing rock formation is gneiss, Avhich is over-
laid by the volcanic products of Kilimanjaro in the north as
far as the llufu, in the west as far as the Mrushunga, and in
the east as far as the middle of Lake Jipe. The highest
mountain chain is the Usangi range in the south-west, in
which the principal peaks, proceeding from north to south,
are Gamualla, Jego, Kimbale, Kindorogo, and Jomvu. Kibe-
renge and Lambo in the north-west, and Ngovi in the north-
east, come next in importance. Like Usambara and Pare,
Ugweno may be compared to an island rising abruptly from
the surrounding sea of the steppes, its sides unfurrowed by
ravine or valley. The beds of gneiss are of immense thick-
ness, and strike generally from north to south. On the
eastern side they dip to the plain at an angle of about 25°.

The principal river is the Junguli, which, rising on the
eastern slopes of Lambo, traverses the whole of Eastern
ugweno, and finally enters the plains shortly after its junction
with the Jego, the main stream flowing from the mountains
of Usangi. Other important streams are the Wangobi, from
Kiberenge and the western side of Lambo ; the Monjo, flow-
ing from Ngovi towards the west ; and the Boru, which drains
the whole southern district. The watershed between north
and south is thus formed by the comparatively low range of
hills between Lambo and Ngovi, which form the face of the
great bay at the northern extremity of the region.

None of the streams above mentioned are of any consider-
able volume. In its middle course the Junguli is only some 18
inches deep and 18 feet wide, while the Jego, close to its con-
fluence with the Junguli, is about the same depth an'd only
some 10 feet wide. According to the natives, the volume of
water does not vary much, even in the height of the rainy
season. AVith the occasional exception of the Junguli, none

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE WA-GWENO. 221

of the rivers enter the Eiifii or Lake Jipe. The same system
of irrigation being practised here as in Jagga, many of the
streams are never permitted to reach the plains, and the few
that do are lost in the chain of marshes running along the
foot of the mountains.

The inhabitants of Ugweno — the Wa-gweno — mostly re-
semble the Wa-mbugu of Central Usambara, except in the
western district, where they appear to be more closely allied
to the Wa-shamba. Among the " Wa-mbugu " of the Junguli
valley, who still keep up the old tribal name, the race is
preserved in its greatest purity. Formerly these Wa-mbugu
were an independent community, governed by an indepen-
dent chief, by name Kirara, who resided in the north-east of
Gamualla. Some years ago they were conquered by Naguvu,
their chief slain, and themselves confined to the valley of
the Junguli, where they now devote themselves to the cultiva-
tion of sugar-cane and bananas, of which a large share goes
to Naguvu as tribute.

Though not over middle height, the Ugweno are muscular
and well-knit. The round spot tattooed in the middle of the
forehead, as the tribal mark of the natives of Usambara, is
replaced among their kinsfolk of Ugweno by a black streak
running from the middle of the forehead to the nose. Like the
Wa-shamba, they file the two upper middle incisors to a point,
while the corresponding lower teeth are broken away close to
the gum — a practice supposed to impart a ferocious expression.
They also cover the whole of the upper part of the body with
hundreds of small marks, partly as a charm, partly by way of
ornament. The method of tattooing peculiar to the married
women has already been referred to.

A farther adornment, according to native ideas, is the
layer of grease and red clay with which the unmarried
warriors delight to plaster their bodies, after the manner of

222 THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

the Masai. The Masai fashion of dressing the hair is also
generally in vogue, pleasingly varied according to individual
taste. A few cut away the hair on the crown, others shave
it off entirely, and a yet gi'eater number wear it hanging
down the neck in a thatch of little pig-tails stiffly plaited
with grass. The commonest way of all is to twist the hair
into thin strings, which hang down all round the head, and
above the eyes are cut away into a regular "fringe." Here
and there a dandy of the tribe screws up the strings into
rows of rigid lovelocks, while another draws a handful down
either cheek, and ties them together under his chin, finishing
off this elaborate coiffure with a sprinkling of coloured beads.

The men further follow the Masai in carrying a large spear
and shield, and the rite of circumcision is universally practised.
Their only clothing is a piece of cloth or hide hanging down
across the breast, while the women wear a garment of hide
fastened round the waist. In this they copy the Masai, as
well as in the spirals of iron wire which they wear as arm and
leg ornaments. Their other ornaments include very pretty,
large ear-rings of beads like those of the women of Usambara ;
thick necklets of brass, and wooden ear-stretchers decorated
with iron, by which the lobe of the ear is distended to as
much as tlu*ee inches across.

As far as we could learn, there is no native name for
Ugweno as a whole. Ugweno, the name in general use at the
coast and on the maps, originally applied only to the most
northerly state — that ruled over by the chief Yangobi. This
district is familiar to the Wa-Jagga as the nearest to Kilima-
njaro, and one upon which they have made frequent raids ; and
from them the name has probably been picked up, and by
common usage extended to the entire region.

Thanks to the periodical ravages of Mandara, the whole
of the north-western district as far the Wangobi valley is

POPULATION OF UGWENO. 223

uninhabited. In the north, Yangobi, whose father fell fight-
ing against Mandara, manages to hold his own against the
marauding warriors of Jagga, while the little district of the
aged chief Mafurra acts as a sort of buffer for the districts
farther to the south-west. The southern and eastern districts,
ruled by Naguvu of Usangi, are the most densely populated.
They are in a state of high cultivation, and from the way in
which advantage is taken of every available morsel of ground
along the slopes of the valleys and hollows, we may gather
some idea of what the rest of Ugweno must have been like
before it was laid waste and pillaged by Mandara's marauding
bands.

We have already spoken of the huts, which are sometimes
of the Wa-Jagga, sometimes of the Usambara type. Bananas
are the staple article of food, with beans, maize, millet, manioc,
and sweet potatoes, while pombe is made from the juice of
the sugar-cane. In constant dread of Mandara and the Masai,
the natives are afraid to rear either sheep or goats, and Naguvu
alone is the happy possessor of a very few cattle. As in
Jagga, the animals are all stall-fed, contrary to the custom
of the Wa-mbugu of Usambara, who rear a fine breed of cattle,
which is owned by the chiefs, and regularly driven to the
open pastures.

As one result of the unequal distribution of the popula-
tion, Ugweno is very irregularly wooded. Anything approach-
ing a forest is only to be met with in the uninhabited
district in the north-west, along the mountains on the out-
skirts of the region, on the side facing the plains. Elsewhere
everything has been burned down for clearings, or, as on the
higher zones of the mountains, the slopes are covered with
low bush, grass, or ferns.

We had heard great accounts of the skill of the Wa-gweno,
and especially of the Usangi, in smelting and working iron.

224 THROUGH THE UGWEXO COUNTRY.

but what we saw of it turned out to be rather disappointing.
The process of forging we were not permitted to see, though,
so far as I am aware, there is no special reason why it should
be kept a mystery. No secret is made of the method of ex-
tracting the metal from the ore. In the Jego valley the iron
is contained in the layer of black sand deposited by the river
all along its banks, and here I saw the natives busy at work
washing the sand in holes, till scarcely anything was left but
the pure particles of iron. The iron is probably carried
down by the river from the quartz veins by which the gneiss
is everj'where intersected, and which we so often found to
be rich in ore. On iSIount Sungo, in the west of Ugweno,
in the Usangi chain, and on the lower spurs of the mountains
of Eastern Ugweno, the ore occurs in lumps, as the result of
the weathering of the gneiss, and it is usually worked on the
spot.

After the ore has been collected, it is mixed with charcoal
and left to roast for several days in a rude sort of earthen
furnace, in which the melted metal gradually falls to the
bottom. The collecting is the only part of the work intrusted
to the women ; all the rest is done by men, or rather by a
certain set of men called fundi (masters), who make the
smelting and forging of iron their special business. The
wood for the purpose is charred in conical heaps, and is
stored up in long faggots covered over with grass.

The bellows consist of a couple of goat-skins, each form-
ing a sack, in which an opening is left above and below.
When the bellows are pulled out, the air rushes in by the
upper opening and fills the skins. This opening is then held
fast, the bellows are squeezed together, and the air is forced
out by the lower opening through a clay nozzle thrust into
the charcoal furnace. A similar apparatus is used in Jagga,
but the articles turned out by the Jagga smiths— spears, axes.

NATIVE METHOD OF SMELTING IRON. 225

knives, spades, arm and neck ornaments — are far superior to
those made in Ugweno. One reason of this may be that the
Wa-jagga for the most part work with European iron wire,
while the Wa-gweno use the native iron, which, with their
primitive methods of smelting and hammering, is of compara-
tively poor quality. The metal is wrought only in small quan-
tities, Mandara and the Masai once more acting as a check
to production. " Our cattle have had to go already," said
Naguvu, when I mentioned the matter to him ; " is it likely
we are going to tempt Mandara with a store of tools and
spears i

If it were not for the proximity of Mandara, Ugweno, which
has an average elevation of 4500 feet, would not be far behind
Usambara. It has a healthy climate, a fertile soil, and indus-
trious inhabitants ; and, although, even with universal peace
in the Kilimanjaro region, it would never come up to the
favoured land of Jagga, it may still be regarded as a valuable
colonial possession, and might safely be said to have a very
fair future before it, if only communication with the coast
were properly established.

Having reached the foot of the mountains on the eastern
side of Ugweno, we continued our way across the steppe
towards Jagga. For two hours we held on in a northerly
direction, and were gradually approaching the " gallery "
forest of the Rufu, when we were met by a small band of
natives, whom even at a distance we recognised as Wa-taveta,
from their fearless bearing. They were on their M'ay home
from collecting a quantity of honey, and the meeting proved
to be most opportune, for without them we should never have
been able to find our way across the great papyrus swamp lying
along the banks of the Rufu to the north of Ugweno.

I have seen a good many swamps in my travels, in Java and

226 THROUGH THE UGWEXO COUNTRY.

the Philippine Islands, in Japan and the Transvaal, but never
anything to equal the papyrus swamp of the river Eufu. The
Wa-taveta had crossed it only two days before, and they now
found the way back by following their recent tracks. Close
behind the narrow belt of trees which bordered the river we
had to push our way through a perfect jungle of gigantic
papyrus grasses, in which at every step we sank up to the
knees in the soft grey mud. A little farther on we reached
a place where the papyrus had been trodden down by hippo-
potami, and here progress was a little easier, the mud having
been dried by the sun. We managed to get along by leaping
from space to space between the deep footprints left behind
by the hippos.

Next came a creek of stagnant water, dark and motionless
as the Styx. We made shift to cross it by an impromptu
bridge of papyrus stems, but every man that passed over
caused the bridge to sink deeper and deeper, and those who
came last waded up to the neck in water. Here and there
were tiny islets of mud overgrown with bush and trees, but
they were too far apart to be of much service to us. What
with cutting down the papyrus, fording the creeks, here help-
ing with a load, there dragging out a man who was in danger
of sinking, it was two hours and a half before we had all
struggled through the belt of mud, everybody and everything
dripping wet. From time to time we were startled by the
snorting of a hippopotamus, or warned by the strong odour of
musk that we had almost stumbled into the jaws of a croco-
dile. On all sides rose the tall papyri with their bunches of
broad leaves, and stems as thick as a man's arm, many of
them twelve or fourteen feet in height.

At length we once more reached terra firma ; the papyrus
jungle passed into a narrow belt of trees along the river-side,
and in a few minutes more we had pitched our camp beyond

THE PAPYRUS SWAMP OF THE RUFU.

;jfl ?THT

AN AFRICAN SYMPHONY. 227

the wood under a group of tall mimosse. Troops of monkeys
barked and frolicked in the trees, and in the marsh we caught
some fish of the Silurus family (sheat-fish), which, though
rather oily, proved not at all unpalatable. Some of them
weighed as much as eighteen pounds. During the night not
one of us could close an eye for the swarms of mosquitoes,
which rose in myriads from the swamp. The buzzing of their
wings mingled with the flutter of bats and nightjars, and
formed a continuous treble to the deep grunts of the hippos,
the hoarse barking of the monkeys, and the sharp cry of the
leopard as it roamed the steppes in search of prey. It was a
chorus of sounds peculiarly wild, peculiarly African, peculiarly
attractive — a weird symphony never to be forgotten by any
who have once listened to it in the appropriate setting of
its own peculiar surroundings.

Tired and unrefreshed, we struck camp next morning at
dawn. At a rounded hill not far from the camp we reached
the boundary-line between the gneiss and the volcanic rock
formations, and crossed the path that leads to Taveta. Here
our guides took leave of us and tui'ned towards home, while we
continued our way across the steppes, not following any path,
but making for the Makessa group of the Wajimba Hills,
which formed a conspicuous landmark at the foot of Kilima-
njaro. The mountain was shrouded in mist, and away to the
right the smoke of Taveta curled slowly upwards from among
the trees. The sun above and the earth beneath glowed like
a furnace, and by midday we were all half dead with thirst, for
none of us had thought it worth while to carry a supply of the
muddy water, which was all that was to be had at the swamp.

Shortly before we reached the path which leads to Moji,
we were suddenly confronted by a large rhinoceros, which,
with tail erect and ears pricked up, stood gazing at us with a
petrified stare, not thirty yards away. After a few moments

228 THROUGH THE UGWENO COLWTRY.

of indecision, the brute began slowly to advance, and seemed
to be making straight for Purtscheller, who was totally un-
armed. All of a sudden it changed its mind and made a dash
for Mwini, who, with the rest of the men, had taken refuge in
the bush. Just in the nick of time Mwini sprang quickly
aside ; and the rhinoceros, apparently quite satisfied with
having routed the caravan, trotted off with an ease of motion
I should scarcely have thought possible for such an unwieldy
animal. This little episode served to keep the men in amuse-
ment long after we had reached our camp at the Habari,
Avliere "we were soon bathing and drinking to our hearts'
content under the shady trees by the side of the rushing
stream.

The nine miles between our camp and Marangu were
covered next morning amid the usual fun and merriment.
We had not been expected for some days, and our appearance
came upon every one as a surprise. During our absence
much anxiety had been caused by the rumour which had
reached Mareale's that the Wa-gweno had opposed our
advance, and that we had had some hard fighting. We were
received, accordingly, with expressions of the wildest delight.
But the Ugweno expedition did end in blood after all, for in
the jubilant firing of guns which succeeded our arrival, two
of the newly-retm*ned porters got so severely wounded in the
thigh, that they were still unable to travel when we started
for the coast three weeks later.

As usual after our return from an excursion, the next few
days were spent in writing, reading, arranging our collections,
and generally putting our affairs in order. A fresh batch of
letters arrived from home, containing nothing but good news.
A few days afterwards we had a visit from Dr. Abbott, who
had been elephant-shooting in Arusha, to the south of Kahe, and
had had a narrow escape of being trampled to death. Immedi-

A JAGG A WEDDING. 229

ately he had gone came the missionaries from Moji ; and
so time flew past, each day bringing something new. As my
vegetable garden was now in splendid condition, I had always
plenty of good things with which to entertain my guests, who,
on their part, were kind enough to replenish my stores of
coffee and salt, two useful commodities of which we had
begun to run short.

At this time my services as a physician were much in
demand, especially among the children, many of whom were
brought to me by Mareale himself. Tlie poor little creatures
suffered greatly from large ulcers in the legs, which arise
without any apparent cause, and do not readily heal up — not
at least under the native treatment, which consists in a liberal
application of fresh cow^-dung. Not infrequently the sores
measured five or six inches long.

But the routine of camp life was not without its more
pleasant variations. Often in the evening we were called
away from our more serious occupations by the pleasant
tinkling of bells, which announced the approach of a wedding
procession. With nothing in the way of bridal array save a
tiny apron and a few strings of beads, the bride was con-
ducted to her husband's house by a troop of maidens and
young married women, all shining like herself in a fresh coat-
ing of grease and red clay. Put into words, the scene savours
almost of the ludicrous, but I only wish it could be trans-
ported to Europe in all its natural simplicity and fitness to the
unconventional surroundings, that from it scoffers might learn
to respect the customs of Africa as they deserve.

We were now warned by the weather that if we had any
more work to do on Kilimanjaro, the sooner we set about it
the better. Every day we had strong winds from the south-
west, and almost every night the rain fell in torrents, while
above, the peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi were hardly ever free

2^0

THROUGH THE UGWENO COUNTRY.

from clouds. It had long been one of our cherished projects
to visit the southern and western sides of Kibo, and now or
never we must put our plan into execution. We made our
preparations accordingly, and soon everything was in readi-
ness for this our last trip before leaving the region.

^^~^4%i^*^<m

BKIIiGE ACROSS THK RIVER DEHÜ.

CHAPTER VIL

WESTWARD HO !

When the enterprising missionary
Rebmann first visited Kilima-
njaro in 1848, he was not con-
tented with the mere dis-
coveiy of the snow-capped
mountain, but, bent on a
systematic survey of the
whole region, pushed west-
wards as far as the Jagga State of
Majam^. He was followed in 1861 by
Baron Von der Decken, and although
since then the Majame district
has been visited by many Euro-
peans, none have materially added
to the Baron's interesting account of what
is, perhaps, the most imposing aspect of
the great African giant.

As already said, a visit to the western side
of Kilimanjaro had all along formed part of
my programme, and now, in the beginning of
November, I found myself in a position to cany it out. Cir-
cumstances, however, were unfavourable. Mandara of Moji
and Sinna of Kiboso were at war, and willy-nilly all the
smaller states were drawn into the feud, so that the whole

HOODED VULTURES
IN MAJAM6.

23 t

232 WESTWARD HO!

of Western Jagga was in a state of turmoil. I was, therefore,
unable to proceed direct to my destination, but, starting from
Marangu, was obliged to proceed to the western foot of Kibo
by way of the neutral path running along the mountain-side,
through the grass-lands above the forest zone.

AVe set out on the 14th of November. The heat was terrific,
and we were unable to start before midday, for the two guides
provided by Mareale could not be induced to move a moment
sooner, and there was nothing for it but to submit. For the
fifth time we directed our steps upwards through the open
bush and shady banana plantations. Leaving the fields and
the fern zone behind us, we camped for the night at the
little meadow by the murmuring Eua, now gay with orchids, as
when we saw it for the first time. Our caravan consisted of
twenty men — quite as many as we expected to require. Unfor-
tunately, neither Purtscheller nor I were in very good con-
dition for a journey. After our return from Ugweno, I had
had a touch of fever, and Purtscheller was suffering from an
attack of indigestion brought on by eating the Jagga bananas,
which, strangely enough, when ripe, always similarly disagreed
with our porters. We were in good enough spirits, however,
for we counted on the mountain air soon to put us all right.
We felt better even after a single night on the mountain-side,
for in our camp at the Rua, 6430 feet above the sea, the tem-
perature during the night fell to 41° F., and the bracing atmos-
phere was a splendid tonic. All night long the stream
crooned softly to itself as it flowed along, the cicadse chirped
among the dewy reed-grass, and from time to time the trum-
peting of an elephant awoke the echoes in the neighbouring
wood.

The next morning broke clear and bright. In the forest
many of the plants had now exchanged their sombre livery of
grey-green moss for a rich array of blossom. Here and there

Ä MOUNTAIN THUNDERSTORM. 233

a ray of sunlight strayed downwards throngh the leafy canopy
overhead, and fell athwart the deep blue flowers among the
undergrowth, high above which rose the tall dracsenas, with
their glossy leaves and fair white blooms, and the sumach
trees with their clusters of brownish red.

By midday we were out of the forest and had emerged upon
the grassy downs above, bright with the crimson flowers of
amaryllis and everlasting. As we followed the path westwards
along the mountain-side, the clouds began to roll up from the
south-east, and before w^e could reach the shelter of the huts
at our old camp by the Mue, we were overtaken by a tremen-
dous thunderstorm. The thunder and lightning was accom-
panied by terrific showers of hail ; and so overcome were the
porters with cold and fright, that one after another they flung
themselves down beside their loads, and we had to resort to
the strongest measures before they could be got to move on
again. The storm continued for two hours, and half an hour
after it was over hailstones as large as coffee-berries still lay
on the ground to a depth of nearly an inch. The fowls we had
brought with us from Jagga all died of the cold ; neverthe-
less we had solemnly to go through the ceremony of cutting
their throats, that we might eat with a clear conscience, the
letter of the law being fulfilled.

The stormy afternoon was succeeded by a clear, cold night.
At break of day I awoke and roused the caravan, but to a man
the porters refused to stir, even under threats of a general
flogging. The fear of the cold outweighed even the respect
usually paid to my uplifted stick, whose virtue as a stimulant
had never before been known to fail. For once I gave in,
however. The temperature was three degrees below freezing-
point, and as I looked at these overgrown children, shivering
in their scanty clothing, I could not help feeling rather sorry
for them, and made up my mind to wait till after sunrise.

234 WESTWARD HO !

As soon as it was warm enough the little caravan was in
motion, and the journey westwards along the neutral path
was resumed.

We had scarcely got well under weigh when there was
another little hitch. All of a sudden our guides came to an
abrupt standstill, professing that they did not know the way,
and advising us to turn back if we did not want to fall into
the hands of the men of Moji and Kiboso, now on the war-
path. The rascals had evidently been laying their heads
together overnight, and I saw at a glance that the whole thing
was a cock-and-bull story, invented partly because they were
really afraid to proceed on account of the war, and partly
because they wanted to make off with the half of their pay,
which, as usual, they had received before starting. A glance
towards my Somal was enough. As I laid my hand quietly
on the shoulder of the guide who seemed the more intelligent
of the two, he was promptly seized from behind and made
prisoner ; his companion had suddenly disappeared. I then
made him a most impressive speech, enlarging upon the
supreme wisdom of the white man and the folly of trying to
impose upon him ; after which, seeing that I judged his fear
of Mandara's warriors to be genuine, I gave him our flag to
carry as a sure charm against all evil, and bade him once more
take his place at the head of the caravan. My harangue was
backed up by a bloodthirsty threat that I would shoot him
down the moment he showed the least sign of trying to escape.
After that ]\Ikumbo, as the man was called, gave us no further
trouble, but stuck religiously to his flag till he was once more
back in Marangu. He proved to be quite an acquisition, for
he was possessed of a great fund of humour, and Avhen he
liked, could keep the whole caravan in a roar. His very
appearance was mirth-provoking. A battered clerical hat, a
faded overcoat of Count Teleki's, and an old pair of shoes.

ABOVE KIBOSO. 235

which had once been mine, these, with a spear in one hand
and the flag in the other, made up a rig-out that put the
fool's traditional motley to shame.

The thunderstorm of the day before had covered both
Kibo and Mawenzi with a dazzling mantle of newly-fallen
snow, against which the dark patches of rock stood out in
bold relief. The sun beat down upon us with scorching
radiance, and from the appearance of the sky it looked as if
we might expect another storm in the course of the day. As
we left Mawenzi behind, and gradually approached Kibo, we
crossed a considerable number of tiny rivulets, most of them
rising in the region between the plateau and the forest. In
their deeply-eroded ravines we noticed a great many Senecio
trees, some of the already familiar species, Senecio Johnstoni,
others of a new, many-branched variety, with smooth slender
stems.

Our way now lay over a high grassy ridge of lava and
through a wide depression, from the edge of which we had a
splendid view of the volcanic cone of Meru, towering upward
from out the blue haze of the western plains. We could
clearly distinguish the large central cone and the jagged
western walls of its great crater, which opens towards the
east.

We now entered the upper district of Kiboso, and here,
in the well-watered sheltered hollow, the belt of trees and
shrubs stretched much farther up the mountain than it does
farther east. As we continued to ascend, we could trace the
tiny brooks gradually becoming more and more thread-like,
until at last they dwindled each into a mere series of pools
along the rocky channels, cushioned with moss and hoary
with grey Senecios. Gay-plumaged sunbirds flitted from flower
to flower, sucking the nectar from their waxy cups, and every
now and again we startled one of the small grey antelopes of

236 WESTWARD HO!

the new species discovered by Dr. Abbott. Once we saw a
beaiitifully-markcd leopard, which I watched with admiration
as it gracefully bounded away with long, agile springs. We
had constantly to be on the look-out for game-pits, of which
there were a great number close to the pathway. The pits
vary from 12 to 15 feet in depth, and are artfully covered over
with bushes, so that to the unwary traveller they form a source
of no inconsiderable dann:er.

In the broiling sunshine we toiled onward and upward
across the heath-clad slopes, and gradually approached the
base of Kibo. Meanwhile towards the south-east the sky
began to look so lowering, that at midday I thought it advis-
able to camp by one of the water-channels, sorely against the
will of our guide, who feared that the smoke of our fire might
attract the attention of the Wa-kiboso. The Wa-kiboso as
well as ourselves had soon something else to think about,
however, for presently the storm broke in all its fury, and what
that means only those can know who have themselves expe-
rienced a tropical thunderstorm among the mountains. While
it lasted, the rattle of the hail and the crash of the thunder
went on without a moment's intermission, and afterwards rain
fell in torrents during the whole afternoon and evening. The
porters took refuge among the rocks and under the blocks of
lava, and passed the night in a wretched plight, soaked to the
skin and half-dead with cold and hunger. For this crowning
misery they had themselves to blame. Extra rations had been
served out to them before they left Marangu, but as they had
made quite certain of reaching Majame in three days, they
had eaten up the food on the march to save themselves the
trouble of carrying it.

If such a thing had happened three months before, I should
have stormed like a madman, but now I was able to take the
matter coolly, although it obliged us to descend again into the

ABOVE URU. 237

cultivated region, instead of continuing our journey upwards,
as I should have liked. The only consolation was, that as the
rainy season had now fairly set in, with its daily thunder-
storms and thick afternoon mists, we could not hope to do
much in the way of mountaineering. As it happened, we had
chosen the very best time of the year for the ascents we
had made from the saddle, and now we were fast approach-
ing the very worst. Accordingly, although, for the principle
of the thing, I promised the delinquents a flogging as soon
as we were back in Marangu, I did not feel it so much of a
sacrifice as otherwise it mischt have been when I had to chans-e
my plans, and give orders to descend next day into the state
of Uru, the chief of which was on friendly terms with Mareale.

In the morning there was no need either of threats or
persuasions to get the caravan under weigh for an early start.
The famishing porters almost raced down-hill, and in three
hours we were back again at the camp by the Mue. Here I
stopped to take some photographs, after which we continued
our way downwards beneath the dripping branches of the
forest, while the porters sought to stay their empty stomachs
with impromptu pseans in praise of the good things awaiting
them in Uru.

The nature of the forest and the conformation of the
ground differ widely on this side of the mountain from what
is to be seen above Marangu. There we have shelving slopes
and wide stretches of ground unbroken by ridges and ravines,
and no abrupt change from one form of vegetation to another.
Above Uru, on the contrary, the ground dips suddenly at an
angle of from 20° to 25°, and has been cut and carved by the
combined agency of wind and weather and running streams
into a perfect network of jutting crests and deep gullies, such
as in the south-east are only to be seen towards the foot
of the mountain. Between 9100 and 9500 feet the wood is

238 WESTWARD HO!

composed almost entirely of arborescent heaths, in girth
and general appearance strongly recalling the pine, a genns
which is not represented on Kilimanjaro. As a rule, the
trees attain a height of from i8 to 20 feet, while the stems
average about 18 inches in girth, and are plentifully draped
with greybeard moss. At 8500 feet the heaths abruptly
give place to the typical tropical forest, with its tall trees, its
rich variety of species, and its luxuriant undergrowth of herbs,
bushes, ferns, and moss. Eain is here of daily occuiTcnce, and
as the undergrowth prevents the evaporation of the moisture,
this zone constitutes the immediate source of the water-supply
on this side of the mountain. The ground is soft and clayey,
the path slippery, and often difficult to trace. Below 7500
feet there is less moisture, and the forest becomes less dense.
Instead of the herbaceous undergrowth, there are thickets of
shrubs and creepers, and, instead of greybeard lichens, the
stems and branches are covered with brown moss. As we
proceed downwards the ravines gradually deepen, and along
the banks of the streams tall tree-ferns, with their crowns of
spreading fronds, rise grandly by the side of the clear, cool
water. At 6550 feet the forest suddenly thins away, and
terminates abruptly in a belt of dense bush. At 6400 feet
the bush with equal abruptness passes into a zone of brackens,
which at 5900 feet suddenly ceases on the edge of a steep
terrace, at the foot of which we reach the first banana planta-
tions of Uru, lying at an elevation of 5700 feet.

The forest, and especially the dry region, is a favourite
haunt of the elephant, to judge from the number of uprooted
and broken trees and the deep footprints everywhere to
be seen. It was here that I came upon the largest elephants
I ever saw in Africa. Impeded by the nature of the ground,
the men had lagged a long way behind, and leaving them
to the care of the Somäl, I pushed ahead, accompanied only

A HERD OF ELEPHANTS. 239

by Mkumbo and one of the Asikari carrying my gun. As
I emerged from a small ravine overgrown with rank vege-
tation, there was a sudden crashing and crackling of branches,
and looking up, I saw a herd of elephants at a distance of
about forty yards. With a warning cry of temho, Mkumbo
disappeared into the bush — my gun-bearer after him. Left
with nothing but a stick in my hand, I was fain to take refuge
behind a tree, while the animals, having got scent of us, stood
doubtfully sniffing the air, with ears erect and waving trunks.
Altogether the herd may have numbered about fourteen,
almost all full-grown. I had not long to count, however,
for at that moment the head of the caravan appeared in
sight, whereupon the elephants took to flight, climbing the
sides of the ravine with wonderful rapidity, and trumpeting
loud and long as they disappeared in the thicket.

By the time the midday thunderstorm again broke over
the upper parts of the mountain, we were beyond the region
of rain and hail, and by four o'clock we had reached the
plantations of Uru. A little lower down we pitched our
camp on a hill between two deep ravines, and the starving
porters were at liberty to make up for their long fast by
gorging themselves to their hearts' content. But first there
were the usual preliminaries to be gone through. As we
were the first whites who had been seen in the district since
the time of Eebmann, and as no caravan had ever been
known to enter the State by the way we had come, the natives
were inclined to be a little suspicious. They thawed some-
what when Mkumbo, in a long harangue, explained who and
what we were, and the calico and red beads which the porters
offered in exchange for their bananas fairly "fetched" them.
Towards evening messengers arrived from the chief, Salika,
and when I sent them back as the bearer of my salaams
to their royal master, with a present of brilliant bandanas

240 ]VEST]VARD HO!

and brass chains for themselves, they sang as they went the
praises of the great mzungu (white man), who, as they said,
had descended from the clouds.

The next day the caravan remained in camp, while I went
down the mountain to pay my respects to the chief. The
way lay over long bare ridges and through three deeply-
eroded valleys, and it was two hours before I reached
Salika's kraal — a rabble of inquisitive natives at my heels.
Within an enclosure surrounded by a high fence, and further
fortified by a deep ditch, stood some half-dozen beehive huts
for the women, children, and cattle, and a more commodious
square house for the chief himself. Announcing our arrival
with the customary salute of two guns, we crossed the ditch
by the tree-trunk w^hich did duty as a bridge, and, to our
profound surprise, were received at the low doorway Avhich
gave entrance to the compound by a group of shabby-looking
Swahili. No Jagga court seems to be complete without two
or three of these rascals, who hang about in the expectation
of picking up slaves, a commodity of which a supply is con-
stantly forthcoming as the result of the frequent feuds and
forays between the different petty states.

Surrounded by a bevy of young wives, Salika stood within
his tidy compound, arrayed in all the glory of a bran-
new scarlet cloth. He was a short, thick-set youth of about
twenty, and seemed dreadfully embarrassed by the arrival of
his white visitors. Cordially shaking hands with him, I told
him where I had come from and whither I was going, and
hinted that I had some fine presents in store for him. By
degrees tlie awkwardness began to wear ofi", his tongue
loosened over a flowing bowl of pombe, and soon we were
chatting pleasantly of Zanzibar and Europe, of which he had
heard fabulous accounts from his Swahili. He made no secret
of his ruling passions — wine, or rather beer, and women. I

THE STATE OF URU. 241

never tasted better banana-beer anywhere, and his wives were
the pick of Jagga. Of the presents I had brought him, the
one that seemed to strike his fancy most was a hideously-
painted mask. As a charm of supreme virtue, it was the only
thing he kept to himself; all the rest — oloth, beads, looking-
glasses, chains, knives, and so forth — were handed over to his
headman or steward.

On reaching Salika's, I sent one of the Asikari back to
our camp with orders that it should be shifted farther down
the mountain, to a lovely little spot we had passed in the
morning. By the time we got back, attended by a goodly
following of natives, the tents were up and everything in
order. Never before had we camped among such charming
surroundings. The tents stood under a shady tree on the
crest of a high grass-clad ridge, on either side of which
flowed a babbling brook. All along the slopes the rich
plantations of maize and bananas were watered by many a
gliding runnel of clear cool w^ater. Upw^ard the eye ranged
over rock and forest to the dazzling snows of Kibo, and west-
ward over wood and steppe to the volcanic peak of Meru. To
the south lay the boundless plains — everywhere a glorious
panorama of unrivalled extent and peculiar beauty. All the
way from Marangu to Moji there is nothing to equal the state
of Uru, either for actual loveliness or for extent of view, and
from no other point do the exquisite outlines of Kibo show to
such advantage — not even from the w-est, where the moun-
tain, though more impressive, is certainly less beautiful.

From Uru the whole south-western sweep of the mountain,
from crater to base, shows tlie characteristic curve of the
typical volcano. The base runs out far into the plains, for
on this side the lava streams from Kibo flowed without
let or hindrance over cone and parent mass alike, whereas
in the east they were dammed back by Mawenzi and

242 WESTWARD HO /

the saddle plateau. The ice-cap, ribbed with conntloss
ridges of dark brown rock, stretches down almost to the
base of the cone, and is separated from the forest only by a
comparatively narrow strip of grass-land. Tlie forest, as we
had ah'eady remarked from Kiboso, here extends much farther
up the mountain than on its south-eastern side, while at the
same time the wooded region below, in common with the
base, runs out much farther into the plains. The Jagga dis-
trict of Kibongoto {i.e., Kiho-ngoto, the state below Kibo)
seems to lie entirely on the wooded plains, while in Kiboso
[i.e., Kiho-so, the state up Kibo) the cultivated zone stretches
up the mountain-side to a height of almost 6500 feet.

This extension of the forest on the south of Kibo is easily
accounted for when we consider the heavy rainfall on this side
of the mountain. Every day we could see the clouds rolling
up from the south towards the heights above, wehere they
broke in rain and hail and snow, and passed away towards
the south-west in the direction of Meru.

All the afternoon I was busy with my usual observations,
while the men impatiently a"\vaited the arrival of the present
Salika Avas sure to send in return for mine ; for in Africa
everything is done on the pernicious principle of do lit des.
It was not until after dark that the expected donation made
its appearance in the shape of a couple of goats, which the
Swahili lost no time in killing and cooking. We considered
this an extremely stingy offering, for the chief had plenty of
cattle, and by all the laws of African etiquette he ought to
have sent me at least two cows, that being about the value
in native currency of my gifts to him. Accordingly, without
further delay, I resolved to move on to Majamd.

Next morning messengers came from Salika to bid me
once more to the presence of the chief, but I treated the

AN INHOSPITABLE CHIEF. 243

request with lordly disdain, and gave orders to quit this inhos-
pitable land forthwith. Nothing loath, now that they were
thoroughly gorged, the porters were soon on the road, Mkumbo,
the guide, leading the way. The path followed the gentle
slope of one of the lower spurs of the mountain downwards,
between endless groves of bananas. The irrigation of the
plantations was effected by means of an unusually complicated
system of canals, through which the water was frequently
brought from miles away, while on either side they were regu-
larly planted with trees to shade them from the sun. Lower
down, where the news of our arrival had not yet had time to
spread, every native we met immediately turned tail and fled
incontinently.

After a rapid march of two and a half hours, we suddenly
found ourselves on the edge of an enormous dry ditch about
fifty feet deep, which marked the southern boundary of Uru.
There could be no doubt that it was intended as a means of
defence — a very effectual one too, I should say, for any un-
suspecting enemy. For a moment or two we were at a loss how
to proceed, but after hunting about in the bush for a little, we
came upon two natives — sentinels, as one might say — who, in
answer to my demands, threw two long poles across the trench,
and on these we made our way to the other side. It was no
easy work ; a single false step might have cost us a limb, if
not our life, and it w^as a whole hour before we were all safely
across. Meanwhile, Salika had had time to hear of what was
going on, and the last man had scarcely reached neutral ground
when the chief made his appearance on the scene, looking
very much disgusted to find that he had arrived too late.
The brunt of his wrath fell on the unlucky sentinels, whom he
blamed for allowing us to escape out of his hands. From the
opposite side of the bridge I gave him a piece of my mind,
however, and speedily had him reduced to a state of abject

244 WESTWARD HO .'

submission. He promised that, if we would visit him on our
way back, we should have an ox for nothing, and meantime he
sent one of his followers to accompany us, at once as guide
and hostage.

From this man we learned that Uru and IMajame were on
friendly terms, and had joined with Mandara in the league
against Sinna of Kiboso. The new acquisition to our caravan,
who was armed with an old flintlock, seemed to be of rather a
jealous disposition, and was evidently not inclined to make
friends with our Marangu guide. I cannot say 1 was sorry
on that account, for the two were less likely to make common
cause against me, in the event of anything occurring which
might tempt one or other to play us false.

Below the cultivated region of Uru was a belt of bush, which
stretched downwards and out into the plains, and through it
we had to push our way westward, creeping rather than walk-
ing. About ten o'clock we crossed the narrow valley of the
Rau river, which rises in the forest region on the southern
side of Kibo, and, flowing downwards, is here a rapid stream
thirty feet wide. In the vicinity of the water the vegetation
flourished with true tropical luxuriance. Particularly re-
markable were the trees of a tall, straight-stemmed Ficus
species, many of which were over i8o feet in height, pre-
senting the most marked contrast to the belt of bush on
either hand, with its low glossy trees, thorny shrubs, and rank
grasses. The bush here was similar in character to that below
Marangu, and occurred at about the same distance up the
mountain. Here, however, the elephant tracks were more
numerous — the elephant in this region being, for the most
part, allowed to roam unmolested.

As we approached the eastern frontier of Kiboso, the
guides began to manifest increasing signs of fear, and as the
feeling of uneasiness gradually communicated itself to the

ON THE QUI VIVE. 245

rest of the caravan, the accustomed fun and merriment died
away into a dead silence. At the slightest sound every man
held his breath and stopped to listen, ready to take to his
heels at a moment's notice. The appearance of half-a-dozen
Wa-kiboso would have routed the whole cavalcade to a man.
As a rule, the Swahili are the most cowardly crew on earth,
especially if they know they have to do with an enemy
capable not only of swagger and bluster — accomplishments in
which they themselves are not deficient — but, if need be, of
fighting in good earnest, like the Masai, and to some extent
also the Wa-jagga. Although, for his own satisfaction, each
of my men was provided with a gun and ammunition, I was
very well aware that if they really had occasion to use them,
they would fling their weapons down and run after the first
shot. The main reason for bringing a bodyguard of Somal
with me on the expedition was that I knew the Swahili were
not to be relied on in an emergency. Three of this body-
guard accompanied me on the present occasion^ which meant
that there were five among us who might be depended upon
to stand to their guns — a force quite sufficient to hold its
own against fifty times the number of savages.

But our courage was not to be put to the proof. At the
Ngombere river we passed a camp which had all the appearance
of having just been deserted; but although we supposed the
warriors must be somewhere in the neighbourhood, we saw
nothing of them. If it had not been that we had come
straight from the enemy's country, I should have turned aside
into Kiboso and paid a visit to its powerful young chief, with
the certainty of meeting with a cordial reception, for Sinna
had ere now shown himself friendly to the Europeans who had
visited him. Under the circumstances, however, it was useless
to think of it, for nothing would have induced my men to follow
me, and it was impossible for Purtscheller and me to go alone.

246 WESTWARD HO/

The Ngombere forms the western boundary of Kiboso.
Leaving behind us the narrow strip of gallery forest which
borders the stream, we kept on among the bush through the
small states of Kindi and Kombo, and crossed three slusjQ;ish
streams, the Maembe, the Manjoka, and the Nseri, Still keep-
ing below the cultivated zone, we continued westwards along
the mountain-side at an average elevation of 3600 feet, and
about three o'clock reached the vicinity of Naruma. Here we
quitted the unbroken, undulating tract of bush, and entered
a bit of closely-wooded country, through which the path led
gradually upwards in a north-westerly direction, till at length
we came in sight of the banana plantations of the Wa-naruma.
Presently, between the trees, we had a peep of a trim little
village, lying cosily ensconced behind hedges and fences, but
all we saw of its inhabitants were a few old men, who watched
us pass by with apparent indifference. An hour's march
brought us out upon the clearings at the other side of the
wood, and before us lay the deeply-eroded valley of the Weri-
'\\'eri, the river which forms the eastern boundary of Majame.
The men being very tired, we here pitched our tents on the
Naruma side of the stream, for once setting aside the usual
rule in travelling, to cross the stream first and camp afterwards.
The altitude was about 3900 feet.

In the afternoon, as a token of his good-will and friend-
ship, Xdelongo, the chief of Naruma, sent us a present of some
wild honey — a delicacy we soon disposed of with due relish.
In the evening a small band of Masai passed our camp on
their way out of the state, where they had been bartering
cattle for beans, maize, and bananas. They scarcely took the
slightest notice of us, but kept quietly on their way down the
mountain in the direction of the plains.

The crossing of the stream next morning was a stiffish
bit of work for our laden porters. The rushing river flowed

THE STATE OF MAJAME. 247

swiftly along the bottom of a ravine, whose palm - clad
sides rose steeply on either hand to a height of nearly 200
feet. Crossing the stream at a point where the water was
breast-high, we scrambled up the banks on the other side, and
almost immediately found ourselves in a Majame village. The
natives were very anxious to detain us, in the hope of being
able to exchange the fruits of the soil for some of our coveted
cloth and beads. To that end they came forward with a story
that the chief had sent orders for us to await him there, as he
wanted to make brothers with us before we proceeded farther
into his territory. The concoction was too palpable, and with
a laugh I brushed the speaker aside and quietly took my way
up the mountain. We were followed by a hubbub of threats
and protests, but there the matter ended, no one venturing
seriously to oppose our progress.

All day Kibo remained wrapped in clouds, and we saw
nothing of it ; but we had a magnificent view of the whole of
Western Jagga. Here there are no hills or lava ridges, as in
Uru, but all the way from the forest to the plains, the culti-
vated zone slopes gradually downwards in unbroken regularity.
The plantations are in a much higher state of cultivation than
farther to the east, but here too the custom prevails of leaving
a tall tree at intervals to shade the fields, so that the aspect of
the country is park-like in the best sense of the word. As a
rule, every man has his own little croft, with its group of cosy
huts, surrounded by banana plantations, and separated from
the fields of adjoining proprietors by a hedge. Villages, in
the usual sense of the term, there are none, except along the
southern frontier, where the risk of attack is greatest, and
where accordingly the village frequently serves the purpose of
a fort. As we gradually approached the residence of the chief,
the necessity for some more eff"ectual means of defence became
more and more apparent. In many a green banana grove the

248 WESTWARD IK)/

charred remains of what was once a group of hnts spoke
sadly of the recent ravages of A\'a-kiboso waiTiors, and every-
where there were traces of rapine and plunder. Strangely
enough, to our way of thinking, the banana plantations had
been entirely spared, and seemed to be all in the most
flourishing condition.

After a climb of three hours through shady groves and
waving fields, with many a murmuring brook between, we
reached the former kraal of Ngamine. Now nothing remained
of it but a pile of ruins surrounded by a stockade — the Wa-
kiboso had been at work here too. Ngamine's new abode
was not far distant, however, and we pitched our camp in a
shady spot that seemed to offer a suitable site. In answer to
our guns, we were soon surrounded by a lively crowd of inqui-
sitive natives, all eager to see the strangers, and get a chance
of driving a bargain. Supplies w^ere cheap and plentiful, and
goods were exchanged with mutual satisfaction. The greatest
good-humour prevailed, and trade went on briskly amid all the
din and chatter, the singing and dancing, the bustle and mer-
riment of a village fair. I seized the opportunity to take a
number of instantaneous photographs, and also succeeded in
obtaining several shields and spears of the small sort which
were once generally in fashion throughout Jagga, but have
now been replaced, in the eastern districts, by the large
shield and long-bladed spear of Masai pattern.

About midday we had a thunderstorm, and the rain fell
in torrents. No sooner had it passed off than our headman
announced the arrival, not of the chief, but of the chief's
brother. He was accompanied by some of the elders of
the tribe, and came to make brothers with me before I
went to pay my state visit to Ngamine. As he had brought
a goat with him, I concluded that the ceremony would con-
sist of the usual interchange of presents, and immediately

MAJAME— BANANA PLANTATION.

•/y-r-y

A NEW WAY OF "MAKING BROTHERS." 249

offered him some cloth and beads. To my surprise my gifts
were rejected.

"We cannot accept your presents until you have taken
the oath," said my visitor.

"The oath! what oath?"

" The oath of friendship. You must swear it on the head
of this goat."

"Am I not an mzungii (European), and is it not enough
that I come as the friend of friends of yours ? The guide
from Uru is a witness that I speak the truth."

"We know that you are an mzungii, but the ways of the
mzungu are not as our ways, and it may be that you have
bewitched this man of Uru. You come to us from the east.
How are we to know that you do not come from our enemy
Sinna, and would destroy our land with your powerful magic ?
Swear then that we may know that you are indeed our
friend."

" I admire your wisdom. You speak Avell. Let the goat
be brought hither."

The goat was led forward accordingly. Taking the animal
by the horns, the brother of the chief (by the way, he was
the only negro I ever met who stammered) spat lustily on
its forehead and said —

" An mzungu has come into our land. He says that he
is our friend. If he lies, may he utterly perish, he and all
his caravan." This brief but solemn invocation concluded,
the goat received another vigorous squirt of saliva between
the eyes.

And now it was my turn. Following the example of my
swarthy friend, I took the goat by the horns, and, having
duly expectorated on the proper spot, repeated the necessary
formula —

" If I practise any evil against Ngamine, him or his people,

2 50 WESTWARD HO f

his cattle or his land, may it so be that I utterly perish, I
and all my caravan." Whereupon there was another expec-
toration, and that part of the ceremony was over.

The head of the goat was next cut off, " that blood and
saliva might mingle," and a strip of skin was cut from the fore-
head. Two slits having been made, the strip was divided into
two portions, one of which was given to each of us, and the
bond was sealed by our slipping our skin rings over the
middle finger of the right hand. Highly satisfied with the
result of their mission, the ambassadors withdrew, having
received my promise that next day I would move my camp
farther up the mountain, nearer to Ngamine's.

Early in the morning the tents were struck, and crossing
the Kikafu, the stream flowing through the narrow valley
behind the camp, we climbed the grassy slopes on the oppo-
site side, and took up our quarters under the shade of a
group of trees on the margin of a tiny murmuring brook.
At our feet, 250 feet below, the rushing Kikafu tumbled
noisily along among the rounded blocks of lava, its banks
the favourite playground of sprightly troops of baboons,
which frisked and gambolled among the trees by the water's
edge the whole day long. The great cloud masses still brooded
heavily on the heights above, and Kibo remained invisible.

In the course of the forenoon, accompanied by Herr Purt-
scheller, the Somäl and the guides, I went to see Ngamine.
The chiefs kraal lay in the midst of a grove of shady bananas,
and here we found him awaiting us at the door of a small hut
made of plaited banana leaves. He was surrounded by about
a dozen elders and warriors, of whom the latter were armed
with guns. In spite of his shabby dress, which consisted
solely of an old piece of blue cloth {Kaniki), we were imme-
diately struck with Ngamine's appearance. His steady eye
and thoughtful manner of speaking proclaimed him at once as

/ MAKE MYSELF AGREEABLE. 251

a youth of superior intelligence, a judgment fully borne out
by the unusual respect with which he is universally regarded
by his subjects.

Assured of our friendly intentions by the sight of the
bulky package carried in our rear, Ngamine invited us to
enter the inner sanctuary, whereupon we patiently crawled
after him through the four ridiculously low doorways in the
series of concentric wooden palisades which guard the more
private portion of the chief's residence. Only a favoured few
were permitted to accompany us — the rest of the attendants
remained outside. Under the shelter of a low shed the pack-
age was unwrapped and we produced our gifts — knives, files,
beads, and tobacco-pipes, with other trifles dear to the savage
heart. A " gold " chain and a Waterbury watch with the
well-known noisy tick were the crowning splendours, and pro-
duced an immense impression. Everything having been duly
admired and liberally spat upon in token of appreciation, the
pombe began to circulate freely, while I made myself agreeable
to Ngamine's favourite wife, and helped her to bestow the
whole collection of ornaments on various parts of her person.
She had a tough struggle with a thick necklet of brass, which
she mistook for a leg ornament, and insisted upon pulling it
up around her thigh, till I came to the rescue and explained
the mistake. At the same time I could not but be struck
with the amount of taste displayed by this negro queen of
the harem in the disposal of her adornments. 1 noticed too
that she had extremely delicate hands and feet — even more
delicate than the wives of Mandara, whom I had thought
peculiarly favoured in this respect.

On our return to camp, we were accompanied by the chief,
who was going down the mountain to visit a small Swahili
caravan from Pangani, which had taken up its quarters in the
neighbourhood for some weeks, and "by mistake" had kid-

252 WESTWARD HO/

napped one of Ngamine's subjects. The Manki (chief) seemed
very much interested in all our belongings, so much so, that
after he and his following had taken their leave, we dis-
covered that one of our drinking-cups had mysteriously dis-
appeared — perhaps also " by mistake."

I was on the point of taking the midday observation wlien
I found to my dismay that one of my two pocket-chronometers
had stopped, so that for the rest of the expedition I had to
depend solely on the other. If I had been careful before of
the theodolite, I guarded it now like the apple of my eye, for
if anything had gone wrong wdth it, the main object of the
expedition — to make as complete a survey as possible of the
whole Kilimanjaro region — would have been defeated.

As we had seen nothing of Kibo for two days except as a
ghostly phantom shimmering in the pale moonlight, I began
to be alarmed lest, owing to its being the rainy season, we
might have to wait for weeks before we got a view clear
enough to be of any practical value. The tliird day began
like the others — nothing but drifting clouds where ought to
have been the snowy summit of the mountain. As the sun
rose, however, the clouds gradually rolled away, and at last
the peak stood out in all its beauty, and I was able to gratify
at once my artistic sense and my scientific zeal by taking
a number of photos and a round of bearings.

Without doubt Kibo is most imposing as seen from the
west. Here it rises in solitary majesty, and the eye is not
distracted by the sister peak of Mawenzi, of which nothing is
to be seen but a single jutting pinnacle. The effect is en-
hanced by the magnificent flowing sweep of the outline, the
dazzling extent of the ice-cap, the vast stretch of tlie forest,
the massive breadth of the base, and the jagged crest of the
Shira spur as it branches away towards the west. Rising from
the plains, the whole mountain is visible from base to summit

im)HH ,Ü5iAj./iAMivII>l

KILIMANJARO FROM THE SOUTH-WEST. VIEW FROM MAJAME

(4630 ft.).

KI BO FROM THE WEST. 253

in one unbroken line — beautiful in its absolute simplicity and
serene grandeur, yet with a beauty which depends for its im-
pressiveness on exquisite proportion and harmonious balance
of parts, rather than on the more picturesque elements of
varied form and colour. It is the beauty of the symmetrical,
the severe, the sublimely solitary. To recall what some one
has said of the Matterhorn — Kibo is not a mountain, but a
genie.

In viewing the mountain from this side, the first feature
that strikes the beholder is the glittering ice-cap, here tinted
a vivid grey. Towards the south-west, it reaches from the
summit to the foot of the cone proper, a distance of 6550 feet,
and continues in almost the same extent all round the south
side of the peak. On the upper half the ice forms a compact
sheet, but towards the bottom, to a height of about 1000
feet, it is split up by longitudinal ridges of lava into four
great tongues or glaciers. Above these ridges the steepness
of the slope has farther caused the ice to split transversely,
so that between the main mass of the summit and the four
great tongues below there is a broad zone of fragments and
crevasses.

Beyond the westmost tongue, which is also the broadest of
the four, there is another great glacier, which issues from a
stupendous fissure with precipitous walls, by which the cone
is here cloven from head to foot. The glacier is formed partly
by the ice which issues from the Kibo crater through the great
notch on its western side, and partly from neve in the fissure
itself. In a vast sheet over 1500 feet thick, the glacier de-
scends like a cascade from a height of 18,700 feet to below
13,100 feet — the lower limit of the adjoining "tongues" — and
finally gives rise to the Weri-weri, the most important river
that rises on Kilimanjaro.

There is a still lower extension of the ice- cap beyond

2 54 WESTWARD HO!

the great fissure ; here the ice again forms a compact mass,
and is prolonged downward in another long tongue, directly
facing the west. Here, below the cone, and running along
the upper third of the parent mass of the mountain, we have
the rugged line of the Shira spur, which, when seen from a
point farther to the east, appear to form an independent
range. Beginning in the forest region, the chain continues
upward across the belt of grass-land, and terminates in a bare
jagged wall of cliffs, in which the vertical veins of light-coloured
rock seem to point to a former independent cone of eruption.
In all probability the great lava sheets forming the states of
Shira and Kibongoto partly issued from this western cone.

A considerable number of streams rise to the south of the
Shira hills and join the Weri-weri, but none flow towards the
plains to the north. The western side of Kibo, like the
north, is covered with sheets of ashes and overgrown with
srrass : there is absolutelv no forest, and the lower limit of the
ice-cap slants northwards and upwards towards the crater
rim, meeting it at the point where we had reached it a month
before.

Our labours were interrupted by the appearance of the
chief. He had heard that we intended to depait next morn-
ing, and came to bring us a fine cow, in place of the tough old
billy-goat his worthy brother had tried to palm off upon me
in the morning, and which I had scornfully rejected. The
animal being killed, Ngamine was careful to secure a sub-
stantial joint for himself, with which, as is usual in Jagga, he
retired to the woods, there to devour his tit-bit in private,
for the Manki is supposed to be a superior being, and may
not be seen indulging in the carnal delights of the common
herd.

Ngamine was the proud possessor of eleven guns of all

ARTICLES OF VIRTU. 255

sorts and sizes, and for the most part useless. By way of
making up the dozen, I added a new species to his collection,
in the shape of an old single-barrelled Lancaster, w^hich I
happened to have in my possession. My kind intentions
appeared to have been misunderstood, or perhaps the chief
had a weakness for odd numbers ; at any rate, when the guns
were fired in the morning to announce our departure, my
headman's revolver was found to have mysteriously followed
the gun. Of course nobody could tell me anything about it ;
but when I threatened the whole kingdom with fire from Kibo
if the revolver were not forthcoming, strangely enough it was
immediately discovered hanging from the branch of a tree.

A few hours later we had another proof of the native pas-
sion for foreign weapons. Descending the mountain in the
dull grey morning, we had just reached our old camp at the
Weri-weri, when we were overtaken by our Uru guide, who
had remained behind to buy bananas. He was in a state of
the greatest excitement over the loss of his precious old flint-
lock, which he said had been taken from him by force. I was
on the point of turning back, when Mkumbo, the Marangu
guide, came forward with the other side of the stoiy. It
seemed that some time before, Salika, the chief of Uru, had
sent for two of the natives of Majame, who were in great
repute as clever surgeons ; they Avere wanted to circumcise
Salika's son, who had now arrived at the proper age. The
operation had been duly performed, but the operators had
been sent home without the stipulated fee, and they had seized
this opportunity of securing payment by making off with the
guide's gun, which was of course the property of the chief
Had I not interfered, the guide would have retaliated by lay-
ing violent hands on one of the unsuspecting children stand-
ing about, that he might carry him off to Uru as a hostage.

After the delay occasioned by this incident, the march was

2 56 WESTWARD HO /

resumed. Despite the fact that their loads were increased by
the weight of the plentiful supply of meat we had received
from Ngamine, the men hastened downhill with the alacrity
always displayed on the return journey. In the afternoon we
reached the Ngombere, where we camped in the midst of heavy
rain. There being neither crocodiles nor rocks to prevent it,
the whole caravan indulged in the luxury of a bath, after
which I took some photographs of the left bank, which dis-
played most interesting sections of the volcanic agglomerates.
All unknown to me, a self-appointed guard of natives kept
watch and ward over us during the night, in case the camp
should be attacked by the Wa-kiboso. Needless to say the
precaution was quite superfluous, for the Wa-Jagga dread the
night as much as any other negroes.

Before sunrise we were up and on the way. The path led
eastward through the belt of trees, with stiff, glossy foliage,
and across the strip of jungle, in which we noticed abundant
traces of elephants. Elephants are the only big game to be
met with in these tracts of jungle ; the other large animals
usually seek the regions where the vegetation is scantier and
more open, as affording the smallest chance of being taken by
an enemy unawares. The elephant seems to possess a marvel-
lous and most exceptional power of adapting itself to different
conditions of life. It is equally at home on the open grass-
lands or in the bush, on the wooded steppes or in the primeval
forest, on the burning plains or on the cool mountain-heights,
and at any elevation from 2000 to 10,000 feet. Occasionally
I have even seen elephant-tracks as high as 13,000 feet, but
higher than that I should think the animals are not likely to
go ; food becomes too scanty, and the rugged lava ridges do
not offer an inviting foothold.

We reached the path which branched upward towards Uru
about noon. To save time, I had made up my mind to return

HOME COMFORTS. 257

to Marangu by way of Moji, and accordingly, much to his dis-
may, I now dismissed the guide with a present, and a message
to his master, Sahka, assuring the chief of my good-will, and
expressing regret that I was unable to call for the ox he had
promised to have ready against my return. A little later we
reached the magnificent gallery forest of the Rau, and crossing
the river, kept on towards the east by the path which runs
along the bottom of the mountain. In the course of an hour
we came to the by-path which branches off towards Moji, where
we arrived in the afternoon, and again took up our quarters
with Dr. Abbott in the cosy little station.

Having sent a present to Mandara (which, by the way, the
chief did not reciprocate), Purtscheller and I paid a visit to
the English missionaries, and had a delightful time chatting
with our friends and revelling in the enjoyment of many
unwonted luxuries. What a treat seemed the bracing douche,
the wheaten bread, the cigars and coffee after lunch, the trifling
over the pages of an illustrated paper ! At home all these
things are commonplace enough — we take them as a matter
of course. Roughing it in a country like East Africa is the
surest way to teach us the true value of our little comforts,
and we first discover how much we appreciate them when we
think we have begun to learn to do without them.

In the afternoon we wandered a mile or two up the moun-
tain-side, where everything was beginning to look fresh and
green, and we ended our stroll in the lovely little glen of the
Saranka. At the head of the glen a foaming cascade falls
from a height of 180 feet into a wide cup-shaped basin,
brimming over with clearest water, temptingly inviting for a
bath. On either hand the dark lava rocks peeped out grimly
from a sunny drapery of green mosses and creepers, dwarf
palms and wild bananas mingling in tropical profusion. It
was indeed the beau-ideal of one of those idyllic spots which

258 WESTWARD HO!

the Northern imagination always conjures up at mention of
the word " tropical." xil'as for the traveller in the tropics
that in reality they are so rare !

We passed the evening in a homely atmosphere of tobacco-
smoke illumined by a petroleum lamp, recalling the names of
all the Europeans — travellers, missionaries, sportsmen, colo-
nists, and adventurers — who had ever been known to visit
Jagga. We counted forty-nine in all, and what we remem-
bered of them I have told in the introductoiy chapter.

Next morning we made an early start for Mareale's, and by
midday were once more in sight of the flag which waved over
the camp at Marangu, for the path was in better condition for
walking than when we had traversed it two months before.
" Camp all well " was All's cheering announcement, delivered
with a military salute and a most unmilitary grin.

The next few days were occupied with the preparations for
our final departure from Jagga. We had still much to do
before we were ready for the start. There were former collec-
tions of plants and insects to be looked over, and new ones to
be made, and I also took a series of photographs in and around
the camp. Next came the packing. The plants and insects
were stowed away in air-tight tin boxes, the negatives were
enclosed in cases of zinc, and the geological and ethnological
collections were sewn up in raw hides, which, as they dried,
formed an elastic, water-tight envelope, than which nothing
better could be imagined for our purpose. Most of the goods
still remaining of the stock we had brought with us from the
coast I exchanged for a supply of beans sufiicient to cany us
over the journey back. The beans were divided into twenty-
four loads and sewn up in bast sacks and matting.

As soon as the natives realised that we were going away
for good, they too seemed anxious to make the most of their
opportunities, and offered provisions and Jagga ** curios" at

SMITH-WORK IN JAGG A. 259

nnusually low prices. Mareale visited us daily, attended by
his usual band of followers. He seemed quite overwhelmed
when, in addition to gratifying his desire for one of my tin
boxes, I made him a parting gift of a complete tweed suit,
ä pair of lacing boots, a lamp, a large enamelled wash-hand
basin, some table and pocket knives, and a quantity of cloth
and powder. To show his appreciation of my kindness, he
aiTayed himself in the unwonted garments there and then,
and proudly strutted about to the envy and admiration of the
bystanders. He really did not look at all bad, which is saying
a good deal for a negro in European clothes.

Mareale's return gifts were a fine Jagga shield, painted
with patterns in the Masai style, and an equally handsome
spear, which, as a mark of special friendship, the chief had
partly fashioned himself. When I thus say that the spear
was partly Mareale's own handiwork, my readers must not
suppose that in Jagga, as in Germany of old, it is considered
the proper thing for the chief to be an accomplished smith.
On the contrary, among the Wa-jagga, as among other negro
tribes, the smith-work is the monopoly of what we might term
a special guild, the fundi, and no one dreams of dabbling in
the favoured craft as a mere amateur. From the custom com-
mon among all savage races of keeping the forge away from
the village from fear of fire, the blacksmith's art has become
invested with a certain mystery, which extends to all its
branches. Thus Mareale was the only man in Jagga whom
I was ever privileged to see at work. The workshop was an
open shed, in which several men wrought together. The
bellows were identical with those used in Ugweno, and the
process of manipulating the iron was the same. The iron
wire being made up in bundles and bent to the required
length, was thrust into a furnace of charcoal, and beaten
into shape with stone hammers on a stone anvil. The final

26o WESTWARD HO!

polish was produced by rubbing the weapons for two days
witli pieces of quartz.

The spears and shields now in favour among the ^^'a-jagga
are of the same pattern as those used by the Masai, and are
far superior to the small kind formerly in vogue, a few
examples of which we picked up in Majame. In thus adopt-
ing a foreign fashion in their w^eapons of war, the Wa-jagga
afford another instance of the tendency so common in Africa,
by which oppressed tribes seek to ape the ways of their
oppressors, in order that they may appear equally terrible, and
ill turn play the oppressor to tribes weaker than themselves.

Except where they have been copied from the Masai, the
Wa-jagga weapons and ornaments present little variety of de-
sign or adornment. A sprinkling of blue and red beads, or a
few lines and flourishes, such as may be seen on the pottery
of the New Stone Age, are the only embellishments. The
art of the Wa-jagga has no distinctive style of its own ; it
is conventional rather than original, utilitarian rather than
decorative, as may be judged from the prevailing forms of
the huts, tools, and household utensils.

The last days of our stay in Jagga were so mild, so clear,
and beautiful, that the regret we naturally felt at leaving
it was increased a hundredfold. Every tree and herb was
now decked in its summer garment of emerald green, and
the birds trilled and twittered in the trees "from morn to
noon, from noon to dewy eve." With the early dawn the
bush awakened with the sweet chirping note of a tiny
songster, and till far on in the gathering twilight the woods
resounded with the deep monotonous cry of the crested turaco.
Then when night had drawn around, and the watch-fire
tuckered redly across the moonlit camp, from all around
came the sound of song and shout as the natives danced

NATIVE DANCES. 261

and made merry in the light of the moon. From these
Wa-jagga gatherings our exclusive Swahili held themselves
severely aloof, but on the homeward journey they were not
above imitating the Jagga songs and dances. A great favourite
was the Ula dance, in which a single performer stands on
tiptoe and swings his body from side to side, while his dress
streams out before and behind, and the rest of the company
stand round in a circle singing in chorus and keeping time
by clapping the hands and stamping the feet. The move-
ments are no more indecent than in any of the other negro
dances I have seen.

The single performer keeps it up for perhaps a quarter
of an hour, when his place is taken by another ; a new tune
is struck up, the dancing begins afresh, and so the thing
goes on hour after hour. Nothing pleased Mareale better
than to lead off the Ula among his Asikari, and he prided
himself on being able to keep it up longer than any of
them.

The date of our departure was fixed for the 29th of
November. The loads had all been made up and distributed,
the tents were struck, every man stood ready for the road —
the air was filled with shrieks and shouts and laughter.
Scarcely one of my men but had had intimate relations with
one or other of the Jagga damsels, but these children of
nature are not sentimental, and we had no parting tears.
Amid a salute from our guns, the flag, which for the last
two months had waved above our camp, was hauled down,
and with a second volley we set our faces towards the resi-
dence of Mareale, that I might bid the worthy chief a last
farewell. "Good-bye, good-bye," he said with a mournful
smile, " good-bye, and come again next year." I replied with
the comforting '' Inshallah, Bivana, inshaJIah!^' and, with a

202

WESTWARD HO /

warm pressure of the hand, for the second time bade farewell
to a worthy friend, whom in all probability I shall never see
again. He has my best wishes for his welfare. Of all the
sovereigns of Jagga, he is the only one I ever met who was
at once intelligent, courageous, modest, and amiable — the
very type of all a young prince ought to be, his swarthy
skin notwithstanding.

W^ii

gal*- 'i-

A HEKD OF ELEPHANTS.

CHAPTER YIII.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

" Homeward bound ! " To what varied
emotions the words gave rise among the
different members of our little
avan. To us Europeans home
still too far oft', and every
other feeling was merged in regret
at leaving the land
M'here we had done so
much, but where there
• still remained so much
to do — the fairest land
in all East Africa, with
itskindly, hospitable people. To our
men — Somal, Swahili, and Asikari
— the words meant all the dear delights of
the coast and Zanzibar, and they could
think of nothing but the silver harvest of
rupees, the old sweethearts, and the deli-
cious life of dolcefar iiiente awaiting them at the end of their
journey. If they had been allowed to follow their own inclina-
tions, I verily believe they would have marched day and night
to put behind them that broiling stretch of arid wilderness
which still lay between them and their sensual paradise.

We did not in the first place proceed to Taveta direct, but,

263

LION AND KUDU ANTELOPE.

204 HOMEWARD BOUND.

by way of breaking new ground in south-eastern Jagga,
struck eastward tlirough the adjoining friendly states of
Mamba, Msai, and Mwika. Leaving the recently-cleared
fields of Marangu behind, we crossed the Una, a stream which
rises on the slopes of Mawenzi, and unites with the Ngona
from the west to form the river Himo, an important tributary
of the Rufu. Some distance farther on we crossed the deep
ravine of the river Jorro, which we found to be quite dry, the
water having apparently all been drained ofif at a higher level
for the purpose of irrigating the fields.

We had now entered the state of Mamba. Close by the
wayside we came upon a party of native warriors evidently
enjoying themselves over a huge pot of pombe. We were cor-
dially invited to join in the carouse, but I pleaded haste, and
the caravan moved on again, and almost immediately entered
the monotonous belt of bush through which the path runs all
the way through Msai to Mwika. In the course of the march
we crossed several watercourses, all dry like the Jorro, and
for similar reasons. One of these, the Mwambo, is worthy of
special mention. Though quite dry at the point where we
crossed it, a number of springs arise in the bed of the stream
lower down, and form the source of the Habari, whose cool
clear waters had so often refreshed us in the course of our
journeyings to and fro.

The little state of Mwika, which we had now entered, is
watered by a single small stream, by the side of which we
pitched our camp towards noon. We were soon on friendly
terms with the chief, Sombararia (the " So," as in Somiriali, is
a particle prefixed to denote the rank of chief). This young
man seemed to have been partaking rather liberally of pombe,
and was somewhat excited in consequence. He listened with
ecstasy when I told him of the wonders of Uleia — of the rail-
ways, the steamboats, the telegraphs, and repeating rifles — and

GOOD-BYE TO JAGG A. 265

interrupted my narrative with shouts of delight and wonder.
His followers — rather a dull-looking lot — did not seem to
share the chief's enthusiasm, but stood listening with passive
indifference to all we had to tell.

During the night it rained, and the temperature fell to
47° F., unluckily for the men, who had elected to sleep in the
open rather than be at the trouble of running up huts. It was
still raining when we quitted Mwika, and therewith Jagga, and
hurried downwards past the conical Wajimba or Fumvu hills,
behind which lay Rombo, the territory of the chief Wajimba.
Still keeping on towards Taveta across the plains, now green
with springing grass, w^e reached the Makessa hills at the foot
of the mountain, where the gneiss once more began to show
through the volcanic conglomerates. A rapid march of four
hours brought us to the forest, where, by the aid of our glacier
rope, we succeeded in swimming the swollen Lumi, and took
up our quarters with our hospitable American friend, Mr.
Chanler.

The next day, December ist, was Sunday, and we spent it
in the orthodox fashion as a day of rest, preparatory to our
trying march to the coast. There were great rejoicings in
Taveta, for the natives had again effectually repelled the Masai,
who, in the course of the last few weeks, had made repeated
attacks on the little forest fastness. At this season of the year
pasture was plentiful everywhere, and the Masai were free to
indulge their roving propensities by wandering in all direc-
tions. We thought it extremely probable, therefore, that we
might meet with them, or with traces of them, on the steppes
before many days were over.

In the evening the Wa-taveta celebrated their victory by a
grand dance, which was held in the open space in front of our
camp. In the interval which elapsed before all the company
had arrived, the wamors amused themselves with a series of

266 HOMEWARD BOUND.

warlike evolutions, accompanied by the shrill music of the
war-cry. After a sufficient number had assembled, the men
formed themselves into a long line ; the girls, who so far had
played the part of spectators, ranging themselves opposite.
Three of the warriors then stepped to the front, and com-
menced a succession of uncouth leaps and bounds high into
the air, while they wildly tossed their long, greasy, clay-plas-
tered manes, and waved their spears and shields. Meantime
the bystanders repeated a measured chanting chorus, and the
girls kept time with a hopping movement, encouraging the
male performers to renewed exertions with all sorts of feminine
coquetries. No sooner was one set of dancers exhausted than
another was ready to take their place, and so in the moonlight
the revel was kept up until far on into the night.

But the Sunday had yet another treat in store for us. Just
as I had finished writing up my diary, Ali came to tell us that
the post had arrived from the coast with mail-bags for Moji,
and a thick packet of letters for us. It was late before we
had exhausted the lengthy budget of home news, while around
us the snoring of the porters, the buzz of the mosquitoes, and
the far-off howling of hyenas recalled to mind the weary
distance that still separated us from the friends whose faces
looked at us from between the lines.

Good news also came to me from Zanzibar. When in
Africa in 1888, I had sent on a hundred loads of goods to the
Victoria Nyanza, under the charge of the trader and carrier,
Mr. Stokes, intending to pick them up later on, when I arrived
in the region with my large caravan. The proposed expedition
unfortunately came to grief, and I had long ago given up the
goods for lost ; but now, to my intense satisfaction, I learned
that the greater part had been sold through the agency of the
Lake missionaries. In the same letter I read the wonderful
announcement that Stanley was with Emin Pasha and Casati

THE START FROM T A VET A. 267

in Usagara, and was expected in Zanzibar within a fortnight.
We hoped to be at the coast ourselves about the same time,
and I looked forward with pleasure to the prospect of meet-
ing three such distinguished personages, and hearing from
their own lips the story of the famous Emin Relief Expe-
dition.

Less reassuring was the information brought by the post-
runners that the Masai had been seen at the ngurungas of
Lanjoro. This startling piece of news was the only topic of
conversation next morning when we were preparing to start,
and, with much outward bravado and many inward qualms,
every man looked ostentatiously to his rifle and rammed home
an extra charge. Well I knew that, in the event of any real
danger, scarcely one among them would be capable of pull-
ing a trigger.

Meantime it was as much as we could do to get away from
Taveta. As a result of the general alarm, the narrow aperture
which afforded the only means of entrance or of exit was
blocked by huge tree-trunks, and all along the path through
the wood similar barricades had been placed at frequent inter-
vals. It took us two hours and a half to get through the
quarter of a mile of forest between us and the plains, and we
had to make up for the delay by an unpleasantly rapid march
as soon as we had gained the open. Guinea-fowl and fran-
colins flew across our path, but we did not dare to shoot any
for fear of attracting the attention of the Masai. There was
no merry talk and laughter to-day, but on and on we steadily
tramped, the silence unbroken save by the sound of our foot-
steps and an occasional word of warning when a hole, a stone,
or a thorn threatened the men's defenceless feet. In the north-
west the peaks of Kibo and Mawenzi showed here and there
between the clouds, and we had a farewell glimpse of the
mountains of Ugweno across the pale grey line of Lake Jip4.

268 HOMEWARD BOUND.

We had been marching eastwards for about four hours,
when all of a sudden our leader Mwini came to an abrupt
standstill. We had come upon the track of the Masai at last !
Right across our road was a newly-trodden path, on which we
could clearly distinguish the footprints of men, cattle, and
donkeys, and above the trees in the direction of Lake Jipe
circled ominous flocks of vultures and storks, which always
follow^ in the wake of the Masai, feeding on the ofial of their
cattle. The men lost not a moment in hurrying on again.
Although there was plenty of water at Lanjoro, none thought
of a prolonged halt, but, having filled their calabashes, pressed
onwards into the wilderness of Taita.

The wilderness was wilderness no longer, for summer had
come and the steppes were gay with flower and leafage. The
greens and yellows of the leaves, the greys and browns of
stems and grasses, the warm red of the soil, the sunny blue of
the sky, the lilac and white and violet of the blossoms, com-
bined to form a picture of matchless richness and variety of
colouring, in which the old level uniformity was lost. Count-
less animals of all descriptions gave life and music to the
scene. The air was full of the hum of insects and the song
of birds, and the game of every kind, no longer confined to
isolated patches, but free to rove in boundless liberty, seemed
to share in the general renewal of life and vigour. They were
all quite safe as far as we were concerned. Even had there
been no Masai in the neighbourhood to spoil sport, the porters
were too heavily laden to carry an additional burden of flesh
or fowl ; and leaving the peaceful denizens of the steppes to
browse unmolested, we rapidly continued our way till the path
began to disappear in the gathering darkness. We pitched
our camp under a solitary baobab, and slept peacefully by
the smouldering watch-fires throughout the night, undisturbed
by the roaring of a couple of lions which seemed to be

A SLAVE CARAVAN. 269

scouring the neighbourhood in search of prey. At this season
of the year the lion can afford to be dainty. He hunts only
the larger sorts of game, leaving the small fry to the lesser
beasts of prey ; the smaller antelopes fall to the leopard, the
hares, the rodents, and ground game to the jackals and
civets.

As on our journey inland two months and a half ago, the
mist was lying in the hollows when we resumed our way next
morning at dawn. Just as it was beginning to grow light, I
suddenly observed in the distance a line of moving red and
white specks, and almost at the same moment Mwini an-
nounced the approach of a caravan from the coast. Soon our
men were exchanging greetings with their friends in the new
caravan, which proved to be bound for Taveta en route for
Masai Land. The party consisted of about fifty half-breed
Arabs and a large number of Swahili porters, with donkeys
and draught oxen all heavily laden. It also included some
twenty or twenty-five slaves, who presented a woeful spectacle
as they toiled painfully along, loaded with chains and carrying
heavy burdens of iron wire, the main article of barter in the
Masai country. In crossing the steppes the poor wretches
had attempted to escape, and had been put in irons as the
heaviest punishment their masters could think of under the
circumstances.

Among other things, the Arabs informed us that about
nine miles farther on we should find water, at a spot where
they had camped overnight. Accordingly, after the prolonged
halt occasioned by the meeting, we hastened on again, and
after a hot march in the morning sun, came in sight of the
blue smoke-wreaths which still curled lazily skywards from
the deserted Swahili camp-fires. Our approach scared away
a flock of ostriches which had come to drink at the slimy pool,
or rather puddle, which was filled with a thick, lukewarm,

270 HOMEWARD BOUND.

greyish liquid, trampled into mud by the foot of man and
beast. Still, it had once been water, and that was enough, so
we filled our calabashes and pressed forward. No one pre-
tended to think it refreshing, and our pet goat Adelheid,
accustomed to the crystal streams of her native valley, could
not be induced to touch it.

An hour later we passed one of our old camping-grounds.
A few charred pieces of wood still remained to mark the spot,
and at the foot of a tree the Somali Mohammed found a
knife which he had happened to leave behind. He very
nearly had to pay dearly for the recovery of his lost property,
for as he was feeling about on the ground a puff-adder darted
out at him, and he narrowly escaped being bitten. This
poisonous viper is nocturnal in habit, and in the daytime is
scarcely to be distinguished from the grass and stones among
which it lies concealed, and which it closely resembles "in
colour and general appearance. The danger therefore lies
in treading on it unawares, for otherwise it does not readily
attack man, like the asps and other small snakes. It is of
a sluggish nature, and withdraws very slowly when alarmed,
so much so, that several times I first became aware of the
animal's presence when my foot was almost upon it and it
began to wriggle out of my path. Taught by one or two
lessons of this description, I soon took to the native habit
of making a random cut with my stick whenever anything
stirred among the grass or undergrowth, though just as often
as not the unseen enemy turned out to be one of the harm-
less snakes or long-tailed lizards with which the steppes
abound.

About noon Ave came in sight of the mountains of Taita,
dimly visible on the horizon through the veil of shimmering
haze. No native footpath was ever known to run straight
from one point to another, and as we followed the tortuous

WILDERNESS OF TAITA— TREE EUPHORBIAS.

GIRAFFES. 271

windings of the " great caravan route," the mountains ap-
peared to lie now on this side, now on that, and sometimes
they were straight ahead. As we gradually approached the
inhabited region, there was a marked falling off in the size
and numbers of the herds of game. Giraffes, however, were
more plentiful, the tall mimosse of the region being more to
their taste than the comparatively low shrubs of the steppes
farther west. As we had no great distance to go, and the men
really deserved a treat after their toilsome march, I fired from
the pathway at one of the unsuspecting animals, scattering the
whole herd ; but unfortunately I only succeeded in bringing
down my game after four shots. In a quarter of an hour
the men had it skinned and cut up, and Mere once more
hieing merrily onwards laden with the choicest parts of the
flesh, while the carcase remained to feed the flocks of vultures
which were soon hovering over the scene of the exploit. It
almost seemed as if we were going to have a surfeit of game
that day, for a little farther on, while my attention was occu-
pied with the remarkable vegetable forms exhibited among
the tree- euphorbias in the neighbourhood of the Bura stream,
all of a sudden the head of an enormous rhinoceros appeared
looking out at us from the surrounding thicket. Immediately
a report rang from four or five guns, and although none of
the shots took effect, the lumbering brute promptly turned
tail and fled, taking refuge in the thorny bush, where it was
impossible for us to pursue it.

Our roast giraffe, though rather tough, proved to be not
at all unpalatable, and we washed it down with our second
and last bottle of claret. But when we retired to rest for
the night, we had forgotten that there were other gourmets
in the world besides ourselves — not lions and hyenas this
time, but those exasperating little imps of darkness, the
ants. Scarcely had we got ourselves snugly tucked in, when

2-2 HOMEWARD BOUXD.

there was a sudden rush and scuffle outside, and a general
cursing and swearing all round, in which the only word I
could distinctly make out was Siafu (black " driver " ants). In
a twinkling I was out of bed, bent on defending my citadel,
but already the invading hordes were at the door, and in a few
minutes they were swarming over everything in numbers such
as I have never seen anything to equal. As they crept up over
our legs and arms and nipped our skin with their sharp man-
dibles, we were soon heartily echoing the strong language of
the Swahili, and were glad to save ourselves by flight. The
men did their best to smoke out the enemy with gunpowder
and burning branches, but in vain ; they were complete
masters of the field, and we were glad at length to leave
them in undisturbed possession and betake ourselves to a
spot a short distance off, where we passed the night rolled
up in our rugs.

This was not by any means the first time I had been driven
from my tent by the driver-ants (Aiiomma arcens), which
always carry on their marauding expeditions during the night, or
when the weather is dull and cloudy, On bright sunshiny days
they keep out of sight among the grass and leaves, or tunnel
out a shelter in the earth, if nothing else is to be had. Often
when on the march I have watched these singular insects in
the early morning before sunrise, or when the sky was over-
cast, as they crossed our path in a serried file, while, warned
by the C17 of " Siafu," the men skipped lightly over the ad-
vancing column. In the Lilliputian army there are three
distinct classes or "castes." It is officered, as it were, by the
largest and strongest class, the members of which are distri-
buted at stated inteiTals throughout the procession. They are
provided with sharp, horned mandibles as long as the insect's
body, and their work is to seize and, if possible, slay every
living thing that comes in their way. The booty is next torn

DRIVER-ANTS. 273

to pieces by the larger of the two classes which make up the
rank and file, and which are provided for the purpose with
sharp straight mandibles, about half the length of their bodies.
The pieces are then taken up and carried a^yay by the third
and smallest class, which have their mandibles quite short.
If the passing procession is stirred up with a stick, the offend-
ing article is immediately pounced upon by the first two castes
and attacked with the greatest fierceness, while the third
skurry off with their burdens as fast as they can. The driver-
ants prey largely upon insects, and are the great check upon
the increase and development of insect life throughout the
land. At the same time they do not hesitate to attack harm-
less reptiles, and even some of the smaller mammals. On the
morning after they had overrun our camp, when we examined
the pieces of meat they had left behind, we found, curiously
enough, that their ravages had been mostly confined to the
fat and sinews, while the juicy muscular parts were almost
untouched.

Our next day's tramp of four hours, through the luxuriant
valley of the Matate to the mountain of Javia, was almost like
a pleasant constitutional, compared with the trying marches
which had preceded it. It was more enjoyable to the booted
Europeans than to the porters, however, for many of the
latter were suffering from blistered feet, and limped painfully
along over the rocky debris which strewed the path.

As I turned to take a farewell look backwards in the direc-
tion of the Taita wilderness, a scene of unexpected loveliness
met my eye. High above the masses of cumulus clouds which
drifted slowly over the steppes rose the snowy dome of Kibo,
solitary, serene, majestic, yet soft and shadowy as a mirage.
Involuntarily the Masai name of Ngaje Ngai (the house of
God) rose to my lips, as I gazed in rapture on the phantom
shape hanging thus suspended in mid-air. Only once in the

274 HOMEWARD BO VXD.

Himalayas, looking from Darjiling towards Kancliinjinga,
have I seen anything to equal it at once for beauty and
impressive grandeur. Through the glass we could see the
Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak standing out darkly against the snowy
background as distinctly the highest point. But soon the
dream-like picture began to fade away as slowly the veil of
cloud spread itself out over the mountain's hoary head, until
at length it was blotted from our sight, never to be seen again
until it reappeared in " counterfeit presentment " in our dis-
tant Northern home.

Once more we pitched our tents at the old camping-
ground in the valley, which soon resounded with the usual
din and bustle of a native market. As I stood listening to
the shrill voices of the women, and saw how keen the Wa-
taita were over a bargain, I could not help thinking how
unfavourably they compared — morally, mentally, and physi-
cally — with the Wa-kwafi of Taveta and the Wa-jagga of
Marangu. Yet cunning and suspicious as the Wa-taita are,
they are still far above the inhabitants of the steppes, the
Wa-nika, the Wa-duruma, and the Wa-kamba, in whom con-
stant war with man and nature has developed and exaggerated
all the natural defects of the Bantu races.

Our camp at Matate had been made memorable to some
of our porters as the scene of a severe flogging. Such harsh
lessons in discipline w^ere now no longer necessary. All the
men were remarkably obedient, willing, obliging, and capable.
On the Avhole, we had lived together almost as one large
family ; the men had the greatest confidence in me, and I in
them ; and now that the end of the expedition was so near,
I felt genuinely sorry at the thought of parting with them.

As we gradually approached the coast with its lurking
fevers, we were careful not to neglect the precaution of taking

A SWAHILI CARAVAN. 275

arsenic pills at meal-times, and with the best results, at least
as far as I myself was concerned. The nights were still
delightfully cool and refreshing, but the days were growing
more and more sultry, the showers more and more frequent.
It was raining when we quitted the Matate valley and con-
tinued our way towards Ndara, and the rain no longer fell in
short intermittent showers, as on the plains, but in a per-
sistent drizzle, which we attributed to the proximity of the
mountains.

Wet to the skin and red as Masai warriors with the mud
through which we had been tramping, we reached the rocks
below the mission-station at Sagala after a six hours' march.
We camped under the sycamore trees which bordered the
course of what was now a foaming mountain torrent, where
formerly had been a mere waterless rocky channel. Soon the
rain cleared off and the sun shone out again, but our friend
the missionary was not to be induced to quit his cosy station,
although we fired our guns repeatedly to intimate our pre-
sence. We had other visitors, however, who were not quite
so welcome. These were the Swahili from a small coast
caravan which had taken up its quarters at our old camping-
ground by the pool. The caravan had been fitted out at Mom-
baza by our old acquaintance Siwa Haji, and was proceeding
to the Victoria Nyanza by way of Sogonoi, this route having
been selected in preference to that by Unyamwezi, which was
at present considered dangerous. Thirty-four of the porters
had already deserted, and, with so many extra loads to carry, it
had taken the rest a whole month to travel from the coast to
their present camp at Ndara.

At Ndara the locusts had recently been making sad havoc
among the fields and plantations, and provisions were in con-
sequence very dear. We had our Jagga beans to fall back
upon, however, so that we were not badly off ; and the natives

276 HOMEWARD BOU\D.

were much disappointed when they found they were to liave
no opportunity of" trading with us. The Somdl were urgent in
their representations that it was time for me to pass sentence
on our pet goat ; but I was resolved to give the privileged
favourite yet a few days respite, and so, for the present, Adel-
heid was spared. Virtue had its reward. In the night I was
awakened by a plaintive bleating, and striking a match to see
what was wrong, was just in time to seize my ice-axe and
sever the head of a large grey-green snake, which was slowly
wriggling itself into my tent. The snake was evidently bent
on seeking shelter from the rain and cold outside, and though
I have often known these reptiles to approach our camp-fire,
attracted by the warmth, as the birds and moths by the light,
this was the only occasion on which I ever remember one try-
ing to enter my tent.

Next day I gave my men a holiday and climbed the moun-
tain with Herr Purtscheller, at once to see our dilatory friend
the missionary and to learn the extent of the ravages wrought
by the locusts. Our visit proved to be not very opportune, for
Mr. Wray was in the midst of packing his household gods,
preparatory to his departure for Europe. Naturally, he was
looking forward with somewhat mingled feelings to the pro-
spect of leaving the station, where he had lived and laboured
for eight years, though Taita is by no means an African para-
dise. And just at present it was far from looking its best.
The locusts had been busy on all sides, and many of them
were still to be seen hovering about in the fields they had laid
waste. Only a week before they had come in enormous clouds
from the Pare region, and had settled down en masse on the
plantations of Ndara, so that in some places the natives were
wading through them ankle-deep. For a day and a half the
air was literally black with the approaching swarms, and in a
single day they had devoured every green blade and leaf in the

A PLAGUE OF LOCUSTS. 277

region. When everything was eaten up, they departed in a
body towards the north-east — that is, in a direction obhquely
to the prevailing winds — leaving behind them the immediate
prospect of a famine in the land.

Next morning at dawn we resumed our way coastwards,
carrying with us various letters and messages from Mr.
Wray to the central mission-station at Freretown. At the
foot of the southern spur of Ndara, which rises from the plains
like a miniature African Matterhorn, the gigantic baobabs
were now gay with waxy blossoms, hanging from the bare
spiky branches like the pendant drops from a Christmas-
tree. Among the young grass the guinea-fowl were dili-
gently scratching up the soil in search of food. In the neigh-
bourhood of Ndara guinea-fowl abound in such large numbers,
that one of the usual camping-grounds takes its name from
them — Marago ya hanga (Guinea-fowl camp), and here it may
be said there are " toujour s perdrix." "We took advantage
of the opportunity to bag a brace or two for dinner, and were
able fully to endorse the opinion we had already formed, that
the guinea-fowl is the most palatable of all African wild-
fowl, as the Kudu antelope is of its larger game.

The birds were now in full song and plumage, and many
species had assumed the most gorgeous colours, although in
the dry season, when the leafless trees afford them no pro-
tection from their keen- eyed enemies, they masquerade in
sombre suits indistinguishable from the greys and browns
of trunk and branches. It has been said that East Africa
has no singing-birds to speak of. The author of this
remark can scarcely have known the country during the
wet season, when the air resounds with the most varied
twittering and piping, and every grove and field has its
melodious band of choristers. The concert is at its best in
the cool of the morning, for as the sun rises and the heat

278 HOMEWARD BOUND,

becomes oppressive, a sultry silence gradually creeps over
the land. From time to time the penetrating " ay, ay, ay ! "
of the hornbill breaks the stillness, accompanied by the
rapid rush of wings and the humming sound caused by the
vibration of the air in the creature's hollow beak ; or one
is startled into momentaiy forgetfulness of the surroundings
by a cry so exactly resembling the melancholy bleating of
a lamb, that it is difficult to believe that it comes from the
osprey soaring far away into the upper air ; or again, a
curious sound like the drumming of a snipe resounds from
overhead, and we knoAv it comes from the missel-thrush as
it stands beating its pinions like a kingfisher ready to dart.
Here and there one of the smaller birds of prey may be seen
flying before a flock of small singing-birds, which pursue
the common enemy in a body, vigorously attacking him with
claw and bill until he manages to make good his escape and
find refuge in a thicket. For the rest, Nature takes her
noonday siesta, and silence reigns supreme.

With the approach of sunset the concert of the morning
recommences, the soft cooing of pigeons mingling with the
love-notes of a thousand other warblers. None of the many
songsters can equal in range and richness of tone our own
nightingales, larks, and redbreasts, but many of them would
compare favourably with such birds as our finches. Nothing,
for instance, could rival the sweetness of the minor duet-like
melodies, in which the two parts are taken by males and
females of the same species, the male leading off first with
three notes, the female following with three notes a third
higher, both voices succeeding each other with such exact and
harmonious precision, that it is difficult to believe the whole
is not sung by one bird. At night the silence is unbroken
save for the occasional monotonous hoot of the nightjar as it
hovers noiselessly around our tent, attracted by the light of

THE STEPPES IN THE RAINY SEASON. 279

the camp-fire, like the moths and insects for which it is on the
watch. As enthusiastic entomologists, we are the nightjar's
only rivals ; but our work is easy, for we have only to draw
our nets down the outside of our lamp-lit tent to gather in a
rich and varied harvest.

Any one who had never seen the East African steppes
except in the rainy season might easily be deceived as to the
fertility of the region. Marching eastwards towards the coast,
it is difficult to believe that scarcely three months ago this
fair green grove, all sweetest song and perfume, was nothing
better than a howling wilderness. It is only when we begin
to turn our attention to the true character of the vegetation
and consider the lessons it has to teach, that we are able
to realise what must be the adverse conditions of soil and
climate which have succeeded in producing such peculiarly
arid and forbidding vegetable forms.

Among other welcome changes which we noticed as we
passed along, was the increased supply of water obtainable
at all the usual caravan stations. At Maungu, where for-
merly we had been obliged to content ourselves with the
turbid contents of an ngurunga, there was now a stream of
limpid water, and everywhere throughout the region the same
happy abundance prevailed. The efiect of this discovery on
my men was to fire them with a sudden ardour for travelling,
which took the form of a clamorous demand that we should
continue our way coastwards without delay. The way in which
I answered it considerably increased the right I had acquired
to the title of '' Bivana kelele,'' or " silence," the nickname by
which I was popularly known among the men. Neither the
Som.al nor the Swahili attach any significance to European
names, and both are alike clever in the art of inventing nick-
names, hitting off little physical or mental idiosyncrasies
with great exactness and often with considerable humour. In

28o HOMEWARD BOUND.

camp, when retiring for the night, we were often much an-
noyed by the noise made by the men outside as they sat
laughing and chattering around the fires. On these occasions
I used to give vent to my feelings and order them off to bed
with an imperious Jcelele ; hence my title of '' Bwana helele,''
which had been bestowed on me during my first journey, and
had stuck to me ever since. The Somal, however, called me
DaJcta — their way of pronouncing the word " doctor."

Purtschellcr's nickname was " Bivana lolo" or " the
stammerer," from his habit, in talking Ki-swahili, of repeating
his words, so as to make quite sure they were properly under-
stood. The Somal had another title for him, too ; by them he
was known as *' angadir," or " the vulture," because of his
unusually healthy appetite. Another of my acquaintances
was called " Bivana ßmho," or "the pole," from his height
and slimness ; a second, "Bivana mamhe" or "the croco-
dile," from his pointed teeth ; and a third, ''Bivana tumho,"
or " the paunch," because of his striking rotundity in the
region indicated. Needless to say, these titles were for
" private circulation only." As head of the expedition, to
my face I was always addressed as " Bivana mkuha " (great
master), and Herr Purtscheller, as second in command, as
''Bivana mdogo " (little master).

AVe were now on the point of crossing the wilderness of
Maungu, but, with the prospect of plenty of water ahead, the
wilderness was robbed of its teiTors. AVe resumed our
journey in the pale light of the waning moon, and had tramped
on steadily for about two hours, when just at sunrise we were
met by a party of Wa-taita, who, in view of the coming
famine, had been buying maize in Samburu. They told us
that we should find plenty of water everywhere, and at the
end of three hours we reached the first pool, at a spot where
three months before there had been nothing but the dry earth.

A THUNDERSTORM ON THE STEPPES. 281

Yet every rainy season {masiica) the place is transformed into
a marsh, and the pools are black with the spawn of fishes, and
with large numbers of small grey frogs which pass the dry
season underground, where moisture is always to be met with
in the deeper layers of the soil.

Filling our calabashes, we pressed onward between the
thorny trees, almost forgetting where we were in the deli-
cious perfume of the blossoms, which filled the air with rich
odours of jasmine and heliotrope. At noon we passed our
former camp, and from the higher ground of the bush tract
had a view southwards toward the pyramidal mountain of
Kisigao.

By and by the clouds came rolling up from the east, the
sky became black as night, and we were overtaken by a
thunderstorm such as is only to be seen in Africa in the wet
season. We had had nothing like it as yet in the course of
the expedition. Before the thunder could be heard we could
see the lightning playing across the horizon in forked flashes.
An intense silence fell upon everything — not a leaf stirred.
Gradually the clouds came nearer and nearer, the thunder
rolled and rumbled, and we could hear the rush and splash of
the falling rain, though as yet the storm had not reached us.
Then came a sudden puff of wind, followed by another and
another ; the rushing and the splashing came nearer, and
suddenly the windows of heaven were opened, and the rain
came down with a force that made eveiy^ drop seem hard as a
hailstone. All around and overhead the lightning glared
and the thunder crashed, and the storm-fiends shrieked and
howled in fury. In five minutes the path had become a
rushing rivulet, through which we splashed wearily onward,
ankle-deep in water. The chilly atmosphere seemed to pierce
beneath our skin, and while we were white, the men were
grey Avith cold. Ten minutes after the storm was over, the

282 HOMEWARD BOUND.

ground was almost as dry as before, every drop of water being
thirstily absorbed by the cracked and porous laterite soil.

In about a quarter of an hour we had another storm, and
in the course of the afternoon two more, but none raged with
such tremendous violence as the first. What it meant to
the porters to carry the loads, and especially the slippeiy
tin boxes, in such weather, may easily be imagined ; but my
own work of route-surveying, the constant handling of com-
pass, aneroid, watch, and lead-pencil, was no less arduous
and exasperating. Tired to death after a fourteen hours'
march, we camped at nightfall in the forest, where we
flung ourselves down at once on our soaking rugs, while the
Swahili, with greater patience and much skill, got together
a supply of dry firewood by cutting down branches and
chipping away all the wet outer layers of bark and wood.
By the aid of some percussion caps they soon succeeded in
making a fire, round which, after they had warmed and dried
themselves, they were not long in going to sleep, heedless of
a lion we could hear roaring not far off, as he sallied forth
in search of his nightly prey.

We awoke next morning to find everything shrouded in
mist, in which many of the humbler members of the animal
world seemed to find themselves peculiarly at home. Shining
Ächatina snails, whose light-grey empty shells are so common
everywhere during the dry season, crawled slowly along among
the damp grass by the wayside. Here and there a clumsy
land-crab or a sluggish tortoise went creeping and groping
about among the loose sand, while all along the pathway
huge millipedes, small scorpions, and supple snakes crawled
or darted or wriggled, according to their nature.

A march of two hours brought us to near the foot of the
long Taro hill, where the ngurungas were now surrounded
by a tangle of long luxuriant creepers. Here we met a de-

ADELHEID-" REQUIESCAT IN PACE." 283

tachment of the Swahili caravan, the main body of which we
had passed at Ndara. A httle farther on, at the nguruiigas
on the hillside, we met another party of about twenty, the
leader of whom informed me, with a broad grin, that at the
present rate of progress they might expect to reach the
Victoria Nyanza in about two years and a half. Fifty Wa-taita
had been hired to supply the place of the deserters, and now
another hitch had occurred because the loads were too large
for the "Wa-taita to carry in their usual fashion, that is,
strapped on their backs by a band passing round the fore-
head.

The hour of our arrival at Taro sounded the death-
knell for our faithful Adelheid. With the usual irony of
fate, she fell beneath the knife of her most trusted friend
— the Somal cook. The forelegs were set aside for the
Somäl, but a quarrel arose over the division of the spoil,
and before I could interfere, the passionate Bulhan had
stabbed the cook in the arm. The offender was immediately
pinioned, but the cook seemed inclined to view the matter
from a fatalistic standpoint, regarding his wound as a "judg-
ment" he had brought upon himself by the treacherous
slaughter of his confiding pet.

Now that the inhospitable wilderness of Maungu lay be-
hind us, the men seemed inclined to take things a little more
easily. On leaving Taro in the morning we broke at once into
our regulation-pace of 106 steps to the minute, whereas in
crossing the wilderness the rate to the minute had been 114.
As we passed along, we saw frequent signs of the havoc
wrought among the trees by the recent storms. Many a fallen
trunk and broken branch lay across the pathway, soon to be
cleared away by the termites — those wonderful insect-scaven-
gers — which were everywhere busy assisting Nature in cany-
ing out the law that whatsoever has sprung from the earth

284 HOMEWARD BOUND.

to the earth it shall return. As the termites are not a light-
loving race, they first set to work to build covered roads con-
necting every dead branch and tiny twig of the tree to be
disposed of with the tall conical red ant-heaps, honeycombed
with galleries and chambers, in which the young are hatched
and food is stored up. Under these covered roadways they
bore their way with their sharp mandibles into the very pith,
and soon nothing is left but a hollow tube. In some places
the whole wood was red with these protecting tunnels, and
sometimes the dead though still standing trees were entirely
covered with them. More than once, in sitting down and
leaning back against what seemed to be a tree of ordinary
solidity, I found I had been trusting to a mere hollow
cylinder of bark, held together and partially filled with a
plastering of red earth. The first blast of wind would have
brought it to the ground ; and whatever is lying on the
ground, if there is anything left of it to gnaw, the termites
soon make short work of. By an oversight on the part of some
of the porters, one or two of our wooden boxes and the sleep-
ing-sacks we had used on Kilimanjaro were left overnight on
the bare ground. The termites found them out and completely
ruined them. The all-devouring insects even tried their man-
dibles on the stocks of the men's guns, and in a single night
managed to do considerable damage.

But although one might sometimes wish the termites to
be a little more discriminating in their ravages, there can be
no doubt that on the whole they are an immense benefit in a
countiy like East Africa, where there is so much w^aste timber
always to be got rid of. Moreover, by virtue of their incessant
building operations they are of great service in the important
work of turning over the soil, in this respect playing the part
of the earthworm in more temperate regions.

The excessive multiplication of the termites is kept in check

N EARING THE COAST. 285

by the ant-bear, or aard-vark, an extraordinary animal, which
tears its way into the ant-hills with its strong claws, and sweeps
the insects into its mouth by means of its long extensile gluti-
nous tongue. Wherever there are ant-hills, the burrow of the
ant-bear (which resembles the "kennel" of a fox) is sure not
to be far off, but I have never succeeded in seeing the animal
itself, as it is nocturnal in habit and exceedingly shy.

Shortly before midday we reached the outlying plantations
of the Wa-duruma of Samburu, in the midst of an oppressive
heat which made us cast a longing look backwards to the more
bracing air of the steppes farther inland. Here we met a large
party of Wa-duruma on their way home from an expedition
under the command of Mr. Joseph Thomson's former associate,
Martin, who had been sent out by the British East Africa
Company to establish a station in Ukamba. We pitched our
tents by the great ngurunga, at the place where three of our
porters had deserted on the journey up-country. Before very
long the natives were on the spot with goats and fowls for
sale, and once more we heard the now unfamiliar word "fethä"
(money). It seemed like the beginning of the end ; though as
yet there was little in the landscape to show it, we had reached
the region of the coast, and our journey was fast drawing to a
close.

In the evening we had a sharp thunderstorm, and in the
midst of it the post-runners from Jagga, whom we had met at
Taveta on their road to the mission-station, came in to seek
shelter for the night. We started with them next morning at
dawn, and continued our way eastward at a rapid rate. Shortly
before noon we passed a very distinct trail of the Masai, a
relic of a descent made by a large band of warriors upon the
hapless Wa-duruma villages about two months before. Later
in the day we passed the lonely boma (stronghold, lit. fence)
of the Arab highwayman Mbaruk, who about three years ago

2S6 HOMEWARD BOUND.

made himself the terror of the surrounding neighbourhood,
and levied toll on every passer-by.

At the rate at which we were going we might have reached
Rabai that night, but a thunderstorm came down upon us at
the Moaje, and the fording of the swollen stream would have
been too much for the porters at the end of a long march.
The post-runners, accordingly, went on alone, while we pitched
our camp at the foot of the mango trees, whose half-ripe fruit
was eagerly devoured by the Swahili, as a foretaste of the
good things awaiting them at the coast.

Now that there was no further need to husband our sup-
plies, Purtscheller and I celebrated the occasion with a little
private banquet, indulging ourselves with all the delicacies
which still remained either from our own stores or from those
kindly furnished by Dr. xlbbott and the missionaries. We had
no bread as yet, but our imagination revelled in the thought
that we should have it to-morrow, and meantime the festive
board was graced with barley - groats, sugar, Swiss milk,
jam, mixed pickles, and Worcester sauce — luxuries which
I should think do not often come back to the coast with an
expedition.

After dinner I made rather an unpleasant discovery. I was
going my rounds as usual before turning in, when I came upon
a young lad whom I did not recognise, sitting outside the door
of Abed's tent. By his features I knew him at once for a
native of Jagga, and in reply to my questions was informed by
Abed that he came from Moji, and was going to the coast to
seek his father, who had run away from Jagga some time
before. Of course I did not believe a word of this stoiy, but
concluded that the lad was a slave, whom my headman had
bought on his own account from Mandara, and whose presence
in the caravan he had been clever enough so far to conceal.
For the present T pretended to believe the tale, however, think-

RABAI ONCE MORE. 287

ing it would be time enough to interfere when we reached
Rabai.

The distance from the Moaje to Rabai is short. In rather
less than two hours after striking camp next morning, we
came in sight of the dead, leafless Borassus palms, which stand
up tall and conspicuous like finger-posts a short way inland
from the cocoa- groves of the station, now likewise visible on
the horizon. "Mnazi, Bwana, mnazi " (cocoa-palms, sir, cocoa-
palms), said one and then another of the porters with a grin,
hailing with delight those harbingers of the coast. We our-
selves were scarcely less excited than the Swahili, and stepped
along briskly, full of pleasant anticipations and countless
questionings. "Would the missionaries be at home 1 What
news would there be from the coast and from Zanzibar ? How
long should we have to wait before there was a chance of
leaving Mombaza?

No sooner were we in sight of the first huts than one and
all the men commenced to fire their guns, bringing a group
of natives to every door. So far from attempting to repress
these wild demonstrations, I joined in them myself; and
when a mission-boy appeared on the scene with a polite
" Morning, sir," I seized his hand and shook it as if he had
been an old friend.

And now before us, lying snugly ensconced among the
trees, was the little white cottage of the mission-station, once
the home of Krapf and Rebmann. The clock in the belfry of
the little church was striking ten, and the children in the
schoolhouse were singing sweetly as we crossed the well-kept
gravelled court before the house, where Mr. and Mrs. Burness
stood waiting in the doorway to welcome us. As we sat down
to the plentiful breakfast which Mrs. Burness — with due
appreciation of a traveller's appetite — had hospitably provided
for us, I felt most amiably disposed to all the world, and only

288 HOME]VARD BOUND.

regained my African hardness of heart when I heard of the
alai'ming accident to Emin — an unfortunate termination to
the Pasha's long list of misfortunes, which it required all my
philosophy to accept calmly. As long as I was in the austere
mood, I Avent to the rescue of Abed's slave, staggered my
headman by telling him serenely I would help the boy to look
out for his father myself, and handed over my protege to Mr.
Bumess to be sent back to Moji with the post-runners.

With my boisterous band of Swahili I thought it as well
not to remain overnight at the mission. Accordingly, after a
short rest, we went on towards Bandarin, intending to pitch
our tents at the spot where in September we had camped for
the first time on the African mainland. On reaching the edge
of the plateau, our eyes were greeted by a wide expanse of
glittering grey, and ecstatic shouts of ''Bahari! hahai'i!"
(the sea, the sea) broke from the whole body of the Swahili,
as " Thalatta" of old from the remnant of Xenophon's army.

At Bandarin we got one of the mission-boats, and accom-
panied only by the Somdl, rowed over to the central station of
the Church Missionary Society at Freretown,' while the rest of
the caravan went round by road. By the kind permission of
the inspector, we pitched our camp under the magnificent
mango-trees at the station, and there spent the few remaining
days of our sojourn in Africa, putting the finishing touches
to our maps, and winding up a number of other little odds
and ends. The expedition was now practically over, and its
results guaranteed.

From Freretown I went down to Mombaza to pay a visit
to Mr. Buchanan, of the British East Africa Company, and
found him looking exceedingly well. At his house I had the
pleasure of meeting Mr. Pigott, who had not long since
returned from the Upper Tana, where he had established the
station of Korokoro.

CAMP NEAR MOMBAZA.

'TA'TVr HVIAD

AN ARAB DHOW. 289

At Mombaza, after prolonged negotiations, I concluded
a bargain with the owner of an Arab dhow, and was very glad
to have the day of our departure fixed at last. It was high
time my men were back in Zanzibar, for they were getting
fairly beyond control. A free fight under the horrified eyes
of the mission ladies was their latest outrage on the feelings
of the little community at Freretown,

We glided out of Mombaza with the ebbing tide on
December 15th. Scarcely were we well out to sea when the
breeze fell away, and there was nothing for it but to take to
the oars. All night and all the next day the calm continued,
although by the drifting of the clouds over the distant main-
land we could see that there a fair wind was blowing from
the north-east. The sailors whistled and piped in vain. Then
the captain fell foul of the Somal for playing cards, but
although the cards Avere put away the upepo (wind) still
was coy.

Any one who has never sailed in an Arab dhow does not
know what sailing is ; and those who have sailed in an Arab
dhow without getting sea-sick may consider themselves proof
to sea-sickness for ever. Fortunately, I am one of the happy
few ; nevertheless it was as much as I could do to stand the
combination of sickening smells that now greeted my nostrils —
the effluvia from the perspiring skins of some seventy negroes,
the pestilential stench from the stagnant bilge-water, and the
villainous odours from all sorts of filth of the worst description.
Crowded as we were, and destitute of any shelter from the
broiling sun and drenching rain, I look back on this three
days' voyage in the Arab dhow as one of the most trying
experiences of the whole expedition.

At the end of the third day we came in sight of Kokotoni,
the north-western extremity of the island of Zanzibar. As
we approached the coast we came within reach of the breeze

290 HOMEWARD BOUND.

which blows all day towards the land, and hoisting our sails,
flew merrily southward along the palm-clad shore. Slowly the
white walls and towers of Zanzibar arose from the sea. The
men laughed and shouted gleefully, and playfully dug each
other in the ribs, unable to find adequate expression for
their delight. My own feelings were strangely mingled. It
was pleasant to think that my work had been successfully
accomplished, that I had returned from the expedition safe
and well, and that soon I should be back again in the midst
of my friends. But the feeling of satisfaction produced by
these considerations was largely mixed with regret that the
busy, active, unconventional life of the last three months
was at an end, that I could no longer be absolute master of
my own actions, and that my r61e of petty Csesar was played
out. The laughing Zanzibaris at my side knew nothing of
these feelings ; for them the past was already dead and buried,
and the future promised nothing but enjoyment.

At length Me cast anchor in the roads, among craft of all
kinds, large and small. Many an inquiring eye was bent upon
my noisy crew of porters as they stepped ashore ; and many a
smile greeted our appearance as we passed through the streets
in our tattered, weather-beaten garments. Before long I was
exchanging greetings at the Consulate with my friend Steifen-
sand, whose guest I remained until my departure for Europe.

It now only remained to pay my porters and disband the
caravan ; the Somal alone continued in my employmcnit a few
weeks longer. It was with feelings of sincere regret that I
said good-bye to Mwini Amani and many others who had done
their best in the interests of the expedition. One and all they
received a substantial honorarium in addition to their stipu-
lated wages, and, if they wished it, a written certificate of
character. " Good-bye, sir," they said, on taking leave ;
" good-bye. And if ever you go on another expedition,

EMIN PASHA AND STANLEY. 291

remember we are ready to go with you." In the course of the
next few days I occasionally met one or other of them in the
streets, doing the grand in snow-white kanzus, and flourishing
the inevitable little dandy cane. A few almost immediately
enrolled themselves at the oflice of the English Mission for an
expedition which was to set out in two days for Tanganyika and
the Victoria Nyanza. Such is the life of the East African
porter, which, with its constant changes and adventures, has as
much charm for the free-born Zanzibari as for the Arab slave.

I had at one time intended to organise an expedition to
Kenia as soon as I had returned from Kilimanjaro, but I
immediately gave up the idea when I found, on arriving in
Zanzibar, that although the tents and other furniture had come
back from Ceylon, nothing had been heard of the guns and
ammunition. For the present, Kenia must wait.

In Zanzibar, with its relax;ing climate and frequent social
and convivial gatherings, which I could not have avoided even
if I would, I soon began to lose the vigorous health and spirits
I had enjoyed in the interior. Twice before, the increasing
languor had ended in fever, but this time, fortunately, I
escaped. Purtscheller, however, had a severe attack, and the
malaria hung about him more or less for months, even after he
was back again in Germany.

The main topic of conversation everywhere was, of course,
Emin, whom the African furies seemed to have overtaken
just as he was on the point of escaping from their clutches,
and every item of news from Bagamoyo was eagerly looked
for and discussed. I should have gone to see him, but visitors
to the sick man were strictly forbidden, and I had to content
myself with expressing my sympathy by letter. Stanley I
met at the English Consul-General's, and had an interesting
conversation with him on the subject of Ruwenzori, which
had been the goal of my expedition in 1888.

292 HOMEWARD BOUND.

I spent several pleasant evenings at the Imperial Com-
missioner's and on board the German men-of-war, where we
heard a great deal abont recent naval and military operations
on the east coast. I was almost sorry when I heard that
Bushiri had been captured and hanged, though I had more
reason than any one to bear him a grudge. Doubtless the
execution was necessary as a matter of policy and military
justice, but for my own part I could have wished he had
been spared, for, everything considered, he treated us very
well while we were his prisoners. I should like to know
if the English missionaries who shared my misfortunes and
my ransom cherish an equally kindly recollection of the
daring Arab chief?

The 24th December came round with all the tropical
accompaniments of sunshine, thunder and lightning, and rain.
There was little to remind us that it was Christmas Eve, and
at first it looked as if the day were going to be allowed to
pass W'ithout any of the usual festivities. In the evening,
however, we had a Christmas tree — an araucaria playing the
part of the customary pine ; and when the candles were lighted
and we had all received our presents — when the roast turkey
made its appearance and pine-apple punch began to circulate —
Zanzibar and our tropical surroundings were forgotten, and
we drank the toast of " absent friends " amid a chorus of
uproarious " Hochs ! "

On Christmas Day I had a private audience with the
Sultan. He received me in all the cool comfort of his loose
house-dress, while I was stifling in my ceremonial dress-coat
— the proper thing for the occasion. Pointing me to a
chair close to his own, the Sultan commenced a series of
interrogations about the Bushiri affair, about my recent work
on Kilimanjaro, and about his " slave " Mandara. Since
my last interview his ^Majesty seemed to have grown much

DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE. 293

more thoughtful aud serious, but at his best he was never
a very imposing personage, and on his sudden death early
in 1890, his subjects cannot be said to have sustained an
irreparable loss.

With the end of 1889 our stay in Zanzibar came to a
close. We brought in the New Year sitting on the flat roof
of the German Consulate, the moon shining overhead and
peacefully reflected in the slumbering sea, while here and
there an oil-lamp glimmered dimly in the silent streets, and
to our ears came the music from the men-of-war, strangely
mingling with the Wacht am Rhein from the Usagara
house, and the chanting of the Sultan's Hymn in the Goanese
quarter.

On the 3rd of January I embarked with Herr Purtscheller
and the Somäl on board the steamer Amazon, of the Messa-
geries Maritimes, bound for Marseilles via Aden and Abok.
Slowly the town and island of Zanzibar sank below the horizon,
and silently we bade East Africa farewell. It was now the
period between the two monsoons, and we had a pleasant
voyage through the Indian Ocean in the enjoyment of con-
genial society, and all the comforts which a well-appointed
vessel had to offer. AVe called at Aden during the night, so
that the parting with my faithful Somäl was cut shorter than it
otherwise might have been. Ali would willingly have accom-
panied me to Europe, but I had tried the experiment of bring-
ing a black servant home before, and my experience made me
firmly resolve never to try it again. The silly way in which
a negro is petted and fussed over by people in Germany,
would spoil the best " boy " I ever knew.

The heat in the much-abused Red Sea was not so intense
as it had been in July, and when we entered the Mediterranean
a north wind was blowing which made us thankful to draw to
our warm clothing again.

294

HOME WA RD BO UND.

We reached Marseilles on January 2 1 st, eighteen days out
from Zanzibar. Here Herr Purtscheller and I parted company,
he going to Italy to recruit, while I took the night express for
Paris, and thence a few days later went on to Leipzig, reach-
ing home on the Emperor's birthday, after a seven months'
absence.

In the course of a few days I was called upon to give my
report to the Emperor, and his Majesty was graciously pleased
to accept at my hands the topmost pinnacle of the Kaiser
Wilhelm's Peak, which I had not forgotten to bring along with
me in my pocket. The pinnacle now lies on the imperial
writing-table : over the Peak waves the imperial Üag, and I
close my record of how these things were accomplished with
the wish that, whether in Europe or in the dark recesses of
Inner Africa, the name of the Emperor Wilhelm II. may carry
with it to his subjects the' light of German thought and the
blessings of European civilisation.

LEAVING MOMBAZA — AN ARAB DHOW.

CHAPTER IX.

GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS OF THE
KILIMANJARO REGION.

A GLANCE at the orographical map of
Africa shows that the backbone of the
continent lies towards the east, the bulk
of the land, with its great river
systems, stretching westwards to-
wards the Atlantic. From the Gnlf

of Suez the East African high-
through

lands run south-east
Nubia, and south through Abys-
sinia, Enarea, and Kaffa to the
Kenia and Kilimanjaro district,
whence they extend into the
region of the South African
lakes, and bending towards the
west, form the watershed between
the Congo and the Zambezi. In
the position and direction of the
watershed the east of Africa is thus a reflected image of
the west of South America ; but here the parallel ceases, for
whereas South America is traversed by the lofty, continuous
range of the Andes, in East Africa, from lat. 25° N. to lat.
15° S., we have an elevated plateau, which only occasionally

rises into mountain peaks and ranges. Wherever this is the

29s

SUUVEYOR S INSTRUMENTS.

296 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

case — as in Abyssinia and at the equator — the mountains are
of volcanic origin.

But although volcanic agencies have here and there modi-
fied the surface features of Africa, they have not entered
largely into the formation of the continent as a whole. In
fact, except in the eastern plateau region, the evidences of
volcanic activity are all comparatively recent, and are confined
to small and well-defined areas in the Sahara, the Canaries,
the Gulf of Guinea, the coast of Benguela, and the Comoro
Islands.

The occurrence of volcanoes is everywhere an indication of
serious disturbances in the earth's crust, and wherever the
volcanoes form a chain it points to the existence of a line
of weakness. Thus in East Africa a line of weajvuess runs
from the southern extremity of the Red Sea all the way to the
Kilimanjaro district, and there are even indications that it
continues as far south as Lake Nyassa and the basin of the
Zambezi, It attains its greatest breadth in Abyssinia, whence
it gradually tapers away as it runs southward through
Kafi'a, and in the Samburu region — recently explored by
Count Teleki and Lieutenant von Hohnel — it forms a deep
trough between two parallel ranges of mountains. The
trough is marked by a long series of salt lakes and marshes
without an outlet, and gradually widens out again in the region
of Meru and Kilimanjaro. From the south end of the Red Sea
the same line of weakness is continued northwards through
north-western Arabia and southern Syria, forming the great
Erythraean trough in which the Red Sea lies, and the trough
of the Dead Sea.

Ruwenzori, Gambaragara, Mount Gordon-Bennett, and
other ancient volcanoes to the west of the Victoria Nyanza,
apparently lie along a parallel line to the west of that we
have just been describing, and a third runs from the islands

KILIMANJARO— MEANING OF THE NAME. 297

in the Gulf of Guinea through the Cameroons to Adamawa
and Lake Tsad. All three lines of weakness have a general
trend from north to south.

Most of the East African volcanoes belong to the Tertiary
period ; but a few are still in a state of activity — notably one
in Abyssinia, one at Lake Samburu, and a third in the vicinity
of the natron lake of the Guaso Nyiro Gelei. Solfataras are
more numerous.

In Africa, as in other parts of the world, the greatest
manifestations of volcanic activity are to be met with near the
equator. There we have Kenia (18,400 feet, according to
Von Höhnel), Ruwenzori (18,500 feet, according to Stanley),
and Kilimanjaro (19,700 feet) — all of them close upon the
average volcanic maximum, for there is no volcanic mountain
on the earth's surface which attains a greater elevation than
23,000 feet. According to these figures, Kilimanjaro is the
highest volcano in Africa.

" Kilimanjaro " is the name given to the mountain by
the Swahili, and means "Mountain of the spirit Njaro."
Njaro is a male spirit, a sort of African " Rübezahl," who also
inhabits another mountain in Bondei, which is likewise called
" Kilimanjaro." The inhabitants of Kilimanjaro, the Wa-
jagga, have no name for the mountain as a whole, but call the
ice-covered western peak " Kibo " (the bright), and the dark
rocky eastern peak " Mawenzi " (the dark). The Swahili
have adopted the name Kibo, but, following the analogy in
Ki-bo and Ki-limanjaro, Mawenzi has become corrupted into
Ki-mawenzi.

Like Kenia, Kilimanjaro rises from the eastern boundary
of the great East African trough, while Meru (16,070 feet)
occupies a position within the trough to the west of Kilima-
njaro. The western side of the trough is lower than the eastern,
and here we have a series of lakes having no outlet — Manyara,

298 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

the natron lake formed by the Guaso Nyiro, Naivasha, Elme-
teita, and others. The Kibo peak of Kilimanjaro lies in lat.
3° 4' S., and long. 37° 15' E.

Kilimanjaro is a twin volcano, formed by the union of the
more ancient Mawenzi in the east with the larger and more
recent Kibo in the west. The major axis of the mountain thus
runs east and west, and is considerably longer than the minor
axis, w^hich runs generally north and south. The plains sur-
rounding the mountain slope from north to south, and have
a mean elevation of 2600 feet above the sea. From the
plains the mountain rises in beautiful curves, which, like
those of Mount Etna, are at first very gentle, but gradually
increase in steepness, till, in the region of the summit, the slope
is almost precipitous. The gradient from the plains (2600 feet)
to Jagga (4600 feet), for a distance of five or six miles, is 5° to
6°; from Jagga to the base of Kibo (14,100 feet), a distance
of about twelve miles, 8° ; from the foot of Kibo to the summit
(19,700 feet), 21°. From cast to west — from the Lumi to the
end of the Shira ridge — the base of the mountain measures
about fifty-five miles ; from south to north — from the parasitic
cones in the Kahe steppes to the belt of marshes in the Nyiri
plain, the distance is nearly forty miles. On the east and
south-east the base of the mountain virtually forms the limit
of the volcanic rocks, for towards Taveta and in the plains of
the Rufu to the north of Ugweno there are only slight and
occasional traces of volcanic activity, evidently of a later date
than that which resulted in the upheaval of Kilimanjaro. In
the north-east, north, and west, however, the volcanic agencies
have again come into free play over a large area.

The parent mass of Kilimanjaro rises from the plains to a
height of 14,400 feet. Here there is a plateau from which the
two cones spring abruptly upwards — Mawenzi, in the east, to
a height of 17,570 feet; Kibo, in the west, to a height of

GEOLOGICAL STRUCTURE OF THE MOUNTAIN. 299

19,720 feet. The distance between the bases of the two peaks
is about five miles. The diameter of Kibo at its base (14,100
feet) is 5200 yards; that of Mawenzi at the same elevation,
3600 yards. At 19,700 feet, Kibo still has a diameter of 2200
yards ; but Mawenzi at its summit is crowned by a narrow
jagged crest of rocks 2200 ^-ards in length (see Map III.).

Across the plateau, between the south end of Mawenzi and
the eastern side of Kibo, runs a series of five volcanic hills,
ranging from 100 to 300 feet in height. The two lying
nearest to Mawenzi are the oldest and most weathered ; they
are composed of lava, and from each a long stream of lava
descends towards the south. The other three belong to a
more recent phase of volcanic activity, and are in a better state
of preservation ; they are mainly composed of volcanic ashes,
and do not give rise to any lava streams. A line of dislocation
traverses the major axis of the line of hills, cleaving them
from top to bottom, and causing great displacement of the
strata. Along the continuation of this line, the eastern side of
Kibo is marked by a gigantic ridge of lava, corresponding to
which, on the western side of the peak, is an enormous fissure
terminating at the lofty Shira ridge (i 1,480 feet), itself almost
worthy to rank as an independent mountain. To the east,
Mawenzi sinks down as a sheer precipice in the crater-like
abyss we have described elsewhere. Thus, to all appearances,
a great fault runs from the base of Mawenzi across the hills
on the plateau to the western slope of Kibo, and it is not
improbable that it continues westward in a slightly curving
line as far as Meru, whose crater opens towards the east.
The same fault is continued eastward from Mawenzi to the
volcanic mountains of Julu on the Eiver Tsavo.

Leaving the Shira ridge out of account, the western half of
Kilimanjaro, which owes its origin to the activity of Kibo, is
characterised by more smooth and regular outlines than the

300 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

eastern half. The latter has been built up by the lavas which
once flowed molten from Mawenzi. From the base of the
peak (14,100 feet) to the plains (2600 feet) the flanks of the
mountain are traversed, or, as it were, buttressed, by several
long narrow lines of hills. Some of these are to be regarded
as having been formed by the outflow of great streams of lava,
but the greater number are parasitic cones indicating where
the volcanic products have found their way to the surface
through vertical fissures. In most cases the cones are as
perfectly preserved as when they were in eruption — a fact
which testifies to their comparatively recent origin. The
most important series of these parasitic hills is that which
runs from the southern base of Mawenzi (14,100 feet) south-
eastwards through the Jagga districts of Msai and Mwika,
including the Wajimba chain and the Makessa group lower
down, and terminating in the hills to the north of the papyrus
swamp on the E.ufu. A second important series are the Lasso
hills between Kilema and Kirua ; and a third, the line of hills
between Uru and Majame,

Wherever the flanks of the western or Kibo half are deeply
furrowed, the ruggedness is due to the action of running
water, and especially of the streams which flow from the
glaciers.

Parasitic cones, mostly in perfect presei-vation, and varying
from 60 to 500 feet in height, are to be met with all along the
southern foot of Kilimanjaro ; and here again they occur most
numerously towards the Mawenzi half of the mountain. The
girdle of parasitic "foot-hills" extends round the east and
west sides of the mountain, but on the north the hills abruptly
cease without completing the circle. At the foot of the moun-
tain, between the base of Kibo and that of Mawenzi — a distance
of twenty miles — the marshy belt of country in the Nyiri
plain is entirely destitute of these foot-hills.

THE NORTHERN FACE OF THE MOUNTAIN. 301

The slopes of the mountain rise in a series of teiTaces
formed by alternate layers of lava and beds of other ejected
volcanic materials. The terraces are most marked towards
the higher zones of the mountain, where the viscous lavas
which were the last to ooze from the crater have hardened into
abrupt walls and precipices. Towards the foot, on the other
hand, the more liquid lavas of the earlier stages of eruption
have spread themselves out in broad fiat sheets of enormous
extent.

The northern face of the mountain is much steeper and
more abrupt than the southern — a fact which may partly be
accounted for by the slope of the plains on which the base
of Kilimanjaro rests. As the ground rises slightly towards
the north, the lavas would here be dammed back, while to
the south, where the ground falls, there was nothing to pre-
vent them from spreading gradually outwards. The much
greater extent of the southern base of the mountain is also
partly to be explained in this way, although here other and
more important causes have come into operation. In the
first place, it is tolerably certain that from the most remote
periods the accumulations of snow and ice have always been
greatest on the southern side, and with every fresh eruption
the suddenly melted masses combined with the ejected volcanic
products and swept downwards towards the plains in the form
of vast torrents of mud. A further contribution was forth-
coming from the parasitic cones, Avhich, as we have already
said, are mostly confined to the south side of the mountain ;
and this again may have been added to by showers of dust
and ashes ejected from the main crater, and carried south-
wards in the current of the prevailing north-easterly upper
trade winds.

Of the two peaks, Kibo at once proclaims its volcanic
origin by its shape, which is that of a truncated cone. Of

302 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

the summit of Mawenzi, on the other hand, nothing is now
left but a long median ridge or crest from which radiate
numerous smaller ridges separated by heaps of debris. The
largest talus is that which slopes away down the middle of
the western side of the peak, from a great notch in the
central crest that forms one of the distinctive features in
the side view of the mountain. The tremendous steepness
and jaggedness of the central and minor ridges are probably
without parallel. The most precipitous slope occurs in the
middle of the eastern side, where the central crest drops down
abruptly at an angle of 65° to a depth of nearly 7000 feet.
This tremendous abyss is probably to be regarded as forming
part of the ancient crater, but from the prevailing dip of the
beds of lava it would seem that the centre of the crater must
have been further to the south-west of what is now the highest
peak (17,570 feet). The latter forms the crown of an im-
posing wall of rock 1800 feet high which lies on the north
side of the central crest. From this peak the line of the
crest extends towards the south, and is broken up into five
lower but equally jagged masses.

In contrast to Mawenzi, as we have already said, Kibo
displays the more regular outlines of the typical volcanic
cone. As the result of denudation and secondary eruptions
the sides are deeply furrowed by valleys and ravines, many
of which are cut out to a depth of over 300 feet in beds
of lava of enormous thickness. Relatively to the enormous
size of the mountain mass, however, these furrows are too
small to affect the general impression of smoothness, the only
really striking fissure being the great rift on the south-west
side of the cone. At the summit of Kibo is a gigantic open
crater 6500 feet in diameter and over 600 feet deep. The
rift just referred to starts from the western side of the
crater or caldera, and forms an opening through which the

THE KIBO CRATER. 303

ice and water accumulated within the latter find their way
down the mountain- side. From the bottom of the crater,
towards the north, rises a flattened parasitic cone about 500
feet high, the base of which almost touches the crater walls
on all sides, with the exception of the south, where a layer
of volcanic mud intervenes. The bottom and sides of the
crater are for the most part covered with ice, but there is no
ice on the upper part of the central cone, from which we may
infer that the cone still to a certain degree retains its original
heat. In other parts of the world — in equatorial South
America and in the South Polar regions, for instance — it is
not uncommon to find the summits of the snow mountains
similarly clear, and the phenomenon is doubtless to be ex-
plained in the same way.

Kilimanjaro has been built up out of many different kinds
of volcanic material, but primary formations are nowhere
represented. The fact that the lavas have been poured out
at different periods, first by Mawenzi and then by Kibo, is
the main cause of their wide difference in character. On
Mawenzi the prevailing rock is a felspathic basalt, while on
Kibo it is a nepheline basanite. (See Appendix.)

In the shattered precipices of Mawenzi the display of lavas
of varying colours and varying degrees of thickness is per-
fectly bewildering. In this respect one of the most interest-
ing features is presented by the veins of compact lava, 10 to
30 feet broad, which everywhere fill up the vertical fissures
in the face of the clifl's, and have the appearance of supporting
and holding together the whole crumbling structure. De-
scribing an analogous phenomenon characteristic of the lavas
of Mount Etna, Sartorius von Waltherhausen compares it to
the injection of the venous system in anatomical preparations,
and a more graphic simile could scarcely be imagined. Kibo,
again, appears to be composed of a compact mass of solid

304 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

lava, and all traces of secondary ernptions along its flanks
have been removed by denudation. Along the edge of the
crater the original lava has been transformed in the course of
repeated eruptions into a glassy obsidian ; elsewhere, as, for
instance, on the Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak, we found vesicular
lavas similar to those of the central cone (leucitic basanite).

On the saddle plateau greyish-yellow mud and ashes pre-
vail. The former appears in its greatest extent to the north
of the plateau hills, where a broad sheet stretches from the
north-eastern base of Kibo to far below the north of Mawenzi,
and is strewn with enormous boulders as if it had been a play-
ground of the Cyclops. Where sheets of lava extend to the
south of the hills, as is the case especially in the direction
of Mawenzi, the action of the atmosphere causes the blocks
gradually to crumble into fragments, until the sheets are
hidden beneath a layer of volcanic sand and mud.

The basalts of the plateau region are distinguished by
beautiful large crystals of olivine ; from the plateau down-
wards the basalts gradually become more and more compact
and finely cr}-stalline. As the result of secondary eruptions
wide sheets of breccia occur in several places at the bottom of
the mountain. Still more numerous, in and around the neigh-
bourhood of the foot-hills, are vast streams of volcanic mud,
richly interspersed with fragments of rock of various size. As
shown in the cuttings formed by the river channels (e.g., the
Himo, the Ngombere, and the Weri-weri), the fragments are
all rounded and worn, from which we may infer that they
had already been long exposed to atmospheric action before
they were caught up and imbedded in the advancing stream
of mud.

From the form and structure of the mountain, from the
nature and distribution of the volcanic rocks, we are able to
trace the geological history of Kilimanjaro with tolerable accu-

PHYSICAL HISTORY OF THE MOUNTAIN. 305

racy. The first to make a successful attempt in this direction
was Mr. Joseph Thomson, whose sketch we shall here endea-
vour to supplement in certain important details.

There can be no doubt that of the two peaks Mawenzi is
the more ancient. Already Kibo is hoary with age, and has
weathered the storm for thousands of years ; but Mawenzi was
hoary before Kibo came into existence, and through the action
of rain and fi'ost and snow it has crumbled away, until now it
is but the skeleton of its former self. Mawenzi was at first
upheaved from a transverse fissure running east and west
across the line of the great trough which traverses eastern
Africa from north to south. It probably originated at the same
time as Meru, which, from its shattered summit, is evidently of
much greater antiquity than Kibo. As eruption succeeded
eruption Mawenzi gradually increased in size and grandeur,
until at length its height was so great that it baffled the attempts
of the subterranean forces to raise the lava to the surface.

Meanwhile the flanks of the mountain had given way in
various places, and the volcanic energy found temporary outlet
in numerous small eruptions. At length, concentrating all its
powers on the western extension of the Mawenzi fissure, it
there found final vent, and a new volcano — Kibo — began its
existence on the western slope of the older cone. In the
course of centuries it began to rival its neighbour in size, and
gradually became one of the chief agents in its destruction,
battering Mawenzi's venerable head with showers of stones,
undermining its lavas with explosions of steam, and furrowing
them with torrents of mud. From time to time the direful
siege would cease for a while, and Mawenzi had time to draw
around its galled and weary shoulders a protecting mantle of
snow and ice, until with a fresh eruption the ice was trans-
formed into devastating floods, which the crumbling rock had
no longer power to withstand.

306 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

Neither in Mawenzi nor in Kibo were the volcanic ont-
bnrsts characterised by extraordinary violence ; the strata are
nowhere greatly distnrbed, and the sheets of ashes and streams
of lava have not extended to any great distance over the sur-
rounding plains. More or less quietly the volcanic products
welled up over the crater rim, adding layer after layer to the
flanks of the mountain by a constant alternation of lava sheets
and beds of agglomerate. The lavas first ejected were the most
fluid, and extended farthest out into the plains ; those which
came later were more viscous in character, and hardening more
readily, have resulted in the terraced appearance which has
been already spoken of as distinguishing the higher zones of
the mountain.

At first Kibo was in all probability a perfect cone, the apex
of which may have been some 1 500 feet higher than the pre-
sent summit of the peak. If we may presume that Kibo was
ever convulsed by any tremendous paroxysm, it was when the
explosion occurred which resulted in giving the cone its pre-
sent truncated form. From the large fragments of charac-
teristic Kibo rocks with which the plateau and the flanks of
Kilimanjaro are strewn, it is not improbable that such an
explosion actually took place. It is still more likely, however,
that the apex of the cone fell in, at or after which event the
disturbance took place along the line of the great transverse
fissure, whereby the western wall of the crater was cleft in
twain, and the long lofty ridge of the Shira hills was up-
heaved. With this final outburst the great eruptions of lava
probably ceased. The pent-up gases in the bowels of the
mountain were no longer able to force their way to its
lofty summit, and were compelled to find an outlet lower
down.

In the course of successive minor eruptions the flattened
cone at the bottom of the crater was gradually built up, and

PHYSICAL HISTORY (CONTINUED). 307

in the hollow between Kibo and Mawenzi three cinder cones
arose on the side towards Kibo. The two lava hills nearest to
Mawenzi had already been Ions: in existence, and the cinder
cones may accordingly be regarded as the most recent volcanic
formations in the loftier regions of Kilimanjaro. Lower down
the volcanic agencies continued to manifest themselves for
some time longer, spending their strength in the production
of the parasitic cones along the flanks and at the base of the
mountain, most of which have given rise independently to
small streams of lava. These cones vary in height from 100
to 400 feet.

Gradually, by the agency of the melting snow, assisted by
an occasional outflow of mud, the notch in the western side of
the crater was widened into a great harranco, while heat and
cold, wind and rain, set to work slowly but steadily to eat away
the solid rocks below and around. The work of denudation
still goes on, and the story of Mawenzi is being repeated.

The volcanic activity of Kilimanjaro is now a thing of the
past; there is no trace even of fiimaroles. Nevertheless, the
mountain evidently retains sufficient internal heat to keep the
summit of the cone within the crater free of ice and to raise
the temperature of the springs in certain places. I myself
have never met with any of these warm springs, nor could I
learn that they were known to the natives ; but Mr. H. H.
Johnston mentions one he discovered at an altitude of about
13,000 feet, which had a temperature of 92° Fahr.

Kilimanjaro lies within the region of the permanent trade
winds. In summer the southern half of the mountain comes
under the influence of the south-east trades, which vary a
point or two to the south 'Or south-west, according to local
conditions. The northern half of the mountain is then in
the lee of the wind, but in winter the northern half comes

3o8 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

under the iufluence of the north-east trades, and the southern
half is sheltered. The summit of the mountain soars far into
the region of the upper trade winds, and there accordingly
the wind in summer blows from the north, in winter from
the south.

We need hardly say that an immense isolated mountain
mass like Kilimanjaro must considerably modify the pre-
vailing direction of the wind. As the atmosphere gradually
becomes heated during the day, and cools again during
the night, corresponding upward and downward currents
set in all over the lower zones of the mountain. In the
south, where the broad base and the numerous ascending ter-
races present a larger superficial area to be acted upon, the
currents are particularly strong. Thus in Moji, in the month
of October, during the storm which came down on us every
evening between eight and ten o'clock, I estimated that the
force of the wind corresponded to 8 of Beaufort's scale, or a
"fresh gale." To the north again, where, owing to the steep-
ness of the slope, the superficial area is diminished, the force
of the upward and downward currents is sensibly weaker.

On the saddle plateau, at a height of from 14,000 to
14,500 feet, we found, both in July 1887 and in October 1889,
that in the early morning the wind blew from the south-east
as a "light breeze " with a velocity of 2-3. Towards midday,
as the whole upland region gradually became warmed up, the
wind veered round towards the south, and blew as a " mode-
rate breeze " with a force of 3-4. Towards sunset there
was an interval of calm, usually lasting for about an hour ;
then, at our Kibo camp, a north-westerly wind set in from
Kibo, and continued to blow until after midnight, beginning
as a "fresh breeze," and increasing to "strong" (velocity
5-6), while at our Mawenzi camp, a north-easterly wind set
in from Mawenzi, and blew with increasing force (4-5) until

RAINFALL AND PREVAILING WINDS. 309

near midnight. Once or twice on Kibo the usual north-west
wind was replaced by a wind from the north-east (vel. 4-5),
possibly the upper trade wind, which the contrary local current
had not been able to overcome.

The fact that the rainfall depends on and is regulated by
the winds is every day strikingly illustrated on Kilimanjaro.

After sunrise, when the heated air begins to rise from the
mountain slopes, the air from the steppes, laden with moisture
brought by the trade wind from the Indian Ocean, rushes in
to supply the place of the ascending current. As the air rises,
it is gradually cooled ; and when it reaches the lower part of
the forest region (5900-7500 feet), the moisture condenses
into cumulus clouds, which, in the course of the day, continue
to ascend and increase in volume, until at length they form a
broad layer, reaching as high as the saddle plateau (13,000
feet), and completely concealing the two peaks from the
eye of the observer below. Thanks to the agency of the
upper trade wind, which in summer blows from the north
and north-west, the peaks themselves remain clear all the
forenoon. At length, in this upper region also, the atmos-
pheric layers in contact Avith the ground become sensibly
heated ; but almost immediately they begin to rise above the
earth, the moisture is condensed into light wreaths of vapour.
At first these are caught up by the upper trade wind, and car-
ried away towards the south-west ; but as the day goes on, the
mist rises with increasing rapidity from the ice-fields of Kibo
and the jagged rocks of Mawenzi, and before midday both
summits are completely enveloped.

After midday the upward current from below, with its
masses of cumulus, begins to encroach more and more upon
the region of the upper trade wind,' and finally both Kibo
and Maw^enzi are concealed by an enormous dome of snowy
clouds, which have the appearance of being absolutely motion-

310 GEOGRAPHY AXD COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

less, although from the upper layers detached masses are con-
stantly being wafted away to the south-west by the current
above, while just as constantly their place is being supplied
by fresh masses from below.

All the afternoon the upward currents from both sides of
the mountain meet at the saddle plateau, when their accom-
panying cloud masses are suddenly whirled skywards, and,
coming within the influence of the upper trade wind, are
broken up and float away towards the south.

Later on, as the temperature falls and the force of the
currents diminishes, the clouds in the region of the summit
descend in rain and snow, and gradually the peaks reappear.
But as the temperature here falls much more rapidly than
in the lower zones of the mountain, it frequently happens
that, at sunset, the cool downward current which has set in
meets the warm upward current half-way, or just above the
forest, with the result that a narrow band of stratus cloud
spreads itself out all round the mountain. As the lower
zones gradually become cooler and cooler during the night,
the current from above makes its way further and further
down, always carrying the cloud-belt to a lower level, hence
the almost regular nightly rains which occur in Jagga. At
last, towards morning the clouds disappear, and everything is
clear until an hour or two after sunrise, when the daily cycle
commences anew.

In the rainy season, which, on Kilimanjaro, occurs during
November and May, the above phenomena are accompanied
by others of an electrical nature that also seem to be
dependent on the direction of the wind. The great thunder-
storms which in November daily descend on the mountain
at midday, all occuiTed above the forest zone (9500 feet).
They were accompanied by heavy showers of hail and
tremendous electrical discharges, and they passed oft' along

RAINFALL ON NORTH AND SOUTH SIDES. 311

the southern side of Kibo, leaving the peak covered with a
layer of newly fallen snow. On Mawenzi we had only two
thunderstorms, both during the night. They came from the
east, and left not only the peak but the saddle plateau white
with snow.

One of the most striking physical facts in connection with
Kilimanjaro is the contrast which exists between the north
and south sides of the mountain in respect of humidity. In
seeking to account for this remarkable phenomenon, three
things must be borne in mind — first, the south-east trade
wind, which blows across the southern side of the mountain,
carries with it a greater supply of moisture than the north-
east trade wind, which has already travelled across a wide
tract of dry land before it reaches the north side ; secondly,
owing to the vast extent and gentler slopes of the south side,
the rainfall is more widely and evenly distributed, and the
conditions favour the growth of the forest to a degree im-
possible on the precipitous northern face ; thirdly, the rainfall
being greater and the drainage system more complete, there
is a corresponding increase in the quantity of moisture con-
stantly being evaporated. Travelling along the base of the
mountain from south to east, and thence round to the north
and west, we find as we proceed that the streams diminish in
size and number, and that the belt of forest gradually dwindles
away. The north-west side is the driest and most sterile, for
neither of the trade winds ever reaches it directly, and even on
the rare occasions when the south-east trade wind veers round
towards the south-west, it is effectually prevented from reach-
ing the north-west side of Kilimanjaro by the intervening
barrier of the Shira chain. On the north-west side there is
not a single stream.

On the more favoured aspects of the mountain the clouds
descend on the forest and grassy uplands, in rain more or less

312 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

hea^y ; on the saddle plateau in rain or snow, according to the
season and the local temperature ; and on the two peaks in
snow. Far more common than either rain or snow is the raw,
damp " Scotch mist," w-hich imparts to the landscape during
the warmer part of the day an air of dull, grey, depressing
monotony. Below and on the saddle plateau {13,000-14,500
feet) the snow is sometimes soft and flaky, sometimes granu-
lar ; but the növe I observed on the two peaks between
14,500 and 19,700 feet was invariably granular.

Although Kilimanjaro lies near the equator the extent of
its ice and snow varies with the season. The southern summer
(December to May) is also the rainy season in the Kilimanjaro
region, and it is then that the accumulations of ice and snow
are greatest. In the southern winter (June to November)
there is a comparative dearth of moisture, the snowfall is pro-
portionately slight, and the process of melting goes on more
rapidly ; hence, by the end of the season, the accumulations
of ice and snow are at their smallest.

A word, first, as regards the extent and distribution of the
snow and ice during the rainy season. In July 1887 we
found the first isolated patches of snow under the blocks and
in crevices in the lava at the " Schneequelle" (12,960 feet).
In increased size and numbers the patches occurred at the
south-eastern base of Kibo, the south-western base of Mawenzi,
and to the south of the hills on the plateau (14,100 feet).
Except in unusually favom*able situations, the patches never
exceeded six feet in size. In the months of April and May
they may probably have formed part of one wide sheet, but
already all trace of connection had vanished, and from the
nature of the snow it was evident that they would all dis-
appear during the ensuing diy season — a surmise we were
able to verify during our visit in October 1889. A peculiarity
of the snowfields on the steep slopes of Kibo was the piles

DISTRIBUTION OF ICE AND SNOW. 313

of stones ranged along their lower margins, almost like a
moraine. They had apparently fallen from the rocks above, and
slid downwards over the smooth surface of the snow. Later
on we saw the same thing repeated on the tali of Mawenzi.

Although these snowfields are none of them permanent,
their position is not a mere matter of chance, but is deter-
mined by local peculiarities in the structure of the mountain.
Since they disappear during the dry season, they cannot be
taken into account in fixing the snow-line, but they are im-
portant as indicating the limit of the snowfall, which, on the
south side of the mountain, we found to be 12,140 feet. On
our ascent of Kibo in October 1889— the end of the dry
season — the snowfields, up which, in July 1887, we had
made our way to the lower limit of the ice-cap, had all melted
away. Only the compact mass of ice and neve at the summit
remained, with here and there a descending tongue or streak
along some deep rut or fissure of the underlying rock. A
few large isolated patches of snow occurred below the limit
of the ice, but they w^ere due to some recent storm, and
would probably not lie more than two or three days. On
Mawenzi, in the same month, frozen snow was found here
and there in the deeper crannies and hollows, but these
accumulations were too insignificant to be taken into account,
the largest of them measuring not more than 3 feet deep, and
15 feet long. Thus, in the hot season, Kilimanjaro may be
said to be practically free of patches of neve.

The compact mass of nevö and ice is thus rendered all the
more conspicuous, the lower edge of the ice-cap rising like
a bright blue cliff, 15 to 260 feet high, all around the summit.
The line of this cliff is extremely irregular. On the north side
it keeps close to the summit, meeting the solid rock at an eleva-
tion of 18,700 feet. To the north and north-east it forms
a jagged zigzag, the '" Hans-Meyer Notch " occurring at an

314 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

altitude of 18,860 feet. On the south-east, again, it divides
into two broad tongues or peninsulas, of which the more
easterly is the Ratzel glacier. Both of these tongues fill up
the hollows of valleys, and extend down the mountain side
as low as 17,550 feet. On the south side the ice stretches
suddenly downwards. For a considerable distance the vast
sheet remains continuous, but afterwards, owing to the ex-
tremely rugged and precipitous nature of the slope, it is
broken up into a series of tongues and streaks divided by bare
dark ridges of rock. In the south this inteiTupted zone occurs
between 16,400 and 13,100 feet, and further to the south-west
between 15,750 and 12,470 feet. As it remains in connection
with the ice-cap, and the presence of the ice is not due — like
the snowfields we have referred to above — to structural pecu-
liarities of the mountain, this zone is of importance in fixing
what, to be accurate, we must on Kilimanjaro call the "ice-
line." Towards the west, on the further side of the great
fissure, the ice-cap extends downwards as a many-tongucd
peninsula to a level of 13,800 feet. Its appearance is ad-
mirably shown in the series of views which w'ere taken by
Höhnel in the course of the Teleki expedition.

Thus the limit of the ice on Kibo would be defined by a
line passing round the mountain at the following altitudes :
south, 13,100 feet; south-east, 12,500 feet; west, 13,800 feet;
north-west, 18, 500 feet; north, 18, 700 feet; north-east, 18,860
feet; east, 18,700 feet; south-east, 17,550 feet.

And here the question arises : Why does the limit of the ice
and neve vary so greatly at different places, and why should it
be lowest in the west and south, and highest in the east and
north ? The primary cause is, of course, the unequal distribu-
tion of moisture on the northern and southern sides of the
mountain, into the particulars of which we have already
entered. But on Kilimanjaro, as everywhere else, even more

IRREGULARITY OF THE ICE-LINE. 315

depends on local peculiarities which favour the preservation of
the snow than on physical conditions which favour a large
snowfall. On the south, south-west, and west sides of the
mountain the former are favourable ; on the north-west, north,
and east they are quite the reverse.

At the end of the wet season the accumulations of snow
on Kibo reach a maximum, after which, for months, the north
side is exposed only to the dry north-east and north-west upper
trade winds, and to the warm upward currents from the arid
northern plains. These continually melt the snow on this side,
but only to carry it further in the form of vapour, and deposit
it again as snow on the southern side — the one side thus gain-
ing what the other loses. Again, the northern side is exposed
to greater heat than the southern — firstly, because the plains
on this side lie at a higher level, and the heat which radiates
from them is not modified by any intervening layer of vapour
as on the plains to the south ; and secondly, because during
the dry season the sun is to the north of Kilimanjaro, and its
rays fall more directly on that side of the mountain.

On the east side, again, the influence of the dry north-east
monsoon mostly accounts for the comparative absence of snow
and ice ; but here another important factor is the intense radia-
tion of heat from the saddle plateau, where the dark rock is
sometimes heated to such a degree that the radiation may be
directly felt, and even seen in the vibration of the atmosphere
over its surface.

Wherever the slope is unusually steep the ice cracks, and
sreat masses become detached and fall to the base of the cone
(13,100 feet), where the incline is more gradual. Here, on the
north side, they rapidly disappear under the combined influ-
ence of heat and drought, while on the south side, where there
is more moisture and the heat is less intense, they rapidly
unite with one or other of the great tongues of ice.

3i6 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

The various factors above enumerated have determined
not only the distribution but the nature of the neve and
ice on Kilimanjaro. In the great snowfields, which in July
partially covered the slopes of Kibo from the ice-cap to the
saddle plateau, the snow near the base was soft and flaky,
whilst higher up it was dry and granular. In October, when
all the snowfields had disappeared, there was likewise com-
paratively little snow to be met with on the ice-cap. Over
large areas the surface of the ice was covered with granular
morsels, half-way between ice and snow, the surface of which
was slushy during the day and afforded excellent footing.
Newly formed neve occurred only in the hollows. Where
the slope was steep, the surface was composed of a sheet of
brittle cellular ice, which, under the axe, broke into splinters
like glass. In the sections shown in the crevasses, the outer
wall of the ice-cap and the terraces within the crater, all the
gradations from neve to clear compact ice were to be seen in
perfection. On the north side, where the ice forms a wall
fifty feet high, I counted as many as twenty-eight distinct
layers, all differing from each other in structure and colour,
passing through every imaginable shade of grey and blue,
from the silver grey of the neve at the top to the deep ultra-
marine of the solid ice at the bottom.

As may readily be understood, the neve and ice of
Kilimanjaro have very little in common with the glacial
formations of the Alps. They resemble rather those of the
great American equatorial volcanoes, as they are described by
Reiss and Stiibel, "Whymper, Giissfeldt, and other travellers.
There is no real reservoir for neve, unless we accept the
highly improbable supposition that in summer the crater
becomes choked with snow and ice, and, overflowing, be-
comes the source from which the ice-cap has originated and
is maintained. It would be much more reasonable to suppose

THE GLACIERS. 31 7

that the rocky rim of the crater is the real reservoir. Broadly
speaking, however, the Kibo ice-cap is simply the result of
the accumulations of snow which form on the sides of the
peak, and gradually sink downward by their own weight till
they reach the limit at which they begin to melt. Thus,
immediately before the commencement of the rainy reason, the
higher parts of the ice-cap are to a certain extent thinned
away, not only from the action of the sun and winds, but
through this gradual downward tendency of the ice.

Owing to the smooth symmetrical slope of the cone,
crevasses and fissures are not numerous, except on the south
side. It is only where the mountain is furrowed with ravines
that the ice assumes the appearance of a glacier of the second
order. The compact mass then becomes split up by longi-
tudinal and transverse fissures, and the glacier advances with
a short tongue at its lower extremity, from beneath which the
water flows, or rather trickles, in tiny rivulets that soon dis-
appear among the porous lavas. The Ratzel glacier on the
eastern side of Kibo is a glacier of this type, as are also the
tongues in the south-east and west. They probably nowhere
extend below 14,750 feet. The only example of a glacier of
the first order, running as one long, continuous stream down
a gentle incline, is the great stream of ice which issues from
the notch on the south-west side of the crater. Even it,
however, does not reach below 12,450 feet, stopping short
when still a long way above the upper limit of the forest
(10,500 feet).

Another important cause militating against the formation
of glaciers is the porous nature of the volcanic rocks, which
check the accumulation of ice by absorbing the water that
flows from the melting snow before it has time to freeze
again. The entire absence of ice on Mawenzi is to be ex-
plained on similar grounds — the extremely precipitous slope

3i8 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

of the mountain, and the porous character of the rock of
which it is composed.

Superficial moraines are nowhere met with, as there are
no rocks above the level of the ice from which fragments
could fall. Terminal moraines are of frequent occurrence,
however, as the result of the action of the ground ice. Glacial
markings are also common on the rocks lining the sides of
the ravines. In the great ravine in the south-east the mark-
ings may be observed far below the present limit of the
Ratzel glacier, and the confused network of lava veins is
polished and scratched to a height of over thirty feet from
the gi'ound, the striae running parallel to the course of the
valley.

In certain respects the ice within the crater diflfers con-
siderably from that of the ice-cap. The extent of the havoc
wrought by sun and wind on the sheets of ice and neve lining
the sides and bottom of the vast cauldron far exceeds anything
of a like nature to be seen among the ice on the rim above.
The weathering is most marked in the south and east, the
ice in many places looking as if it had been ploughed. The
fuiTows run parallel, and are frequently as much as six feet
deep, and the ridges and points and pinnacles between are so
firm and sharp that I can only compare them to a '' Karren-
ßelcl" in the limestone Alps. As a rule, they follow the
downward slope of the subtending rock, so that they probably
owe their origin to the combined action of the wind and of
the water produced by the influence of the sun's rays. At the
shelving bottom of the crater, which is well sheltered from
the wind, the fuiTOws disappear, and the ice assumes the
undulating, laminated appearance which may be seen, though
to a less degree, in the snowfields of Europe. The nieve
penitente, described by Dr. Paul Gllssfeldt in his work on the
Andes, seems to be exactly similar in character. On the

THE ICE WITHIN THE CRATER. 319

sides of the crater M'here the ice is thickest it rises in steep
terraces like the outer rim of the ice-cap, and, as in the latter,
the transition from neve to ice of different degrees of solidity
is distinctly traceable.

The greatest accumulations of ice are to be met with on
the north side of the crater. Here the bottom of the crater
is highest, and the hollow between the central cone and the
succession of terraces which rise upwards to the rim affords
an excellent reservoir for neve. On the south side, which
is directly exposed to the dry north upper trade wind, and to
the rays of the sun during the dry season, the ice is largely
melted away ; and in October the dark rock was every-
where laid bare. It is probable, however, that in the wet
season the south side also is covered with ice, and the
whole crater is transformed, for the time being, into a vast
reservoir, its icy contents being discharged through the great
notch in the western wall. Even in October we could see
that the ice-masses all tended towards the western barranco,
and that the water drained off in the same direction.

As far as could be seen from Majame, the ice from the
vast caldera falls as a mighty cascade into the great western
fissure, where it unites with the accumulations in the fissure
itself, and bending towards the south flows downwards to the
south-western base of Kibo as the glacier of the first order,
to which reference has already been made. The lower end
of the glacier (12,500 feet) terminates in a broad cliff, from
beneath which issue the head waters of the Weri-weri. Our
attempt to pursue our explorations on this side of the peak
were frustrated by the approach of the rainy season, but there
can be no doubt that here many interesting problems still
remain to be solved.

The extent of the rainfall and the distribution of the ice
naturally determine the distribution of the springs, streams,

320 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

and rivers on Kilimanjaro. On Kibo and Mawenzi, the
water from the ice is rapidly absorbed by the porous rock,
making its way downward by underground channels, to
appear again at the bottom of the peaks. In the loftier
regions the only water we saw was a small lakelet on the
north of Mawenzi, at a height of 15,420 feet, and a group
of springs on the west of the same peak at a height of 15,250
feet. South of the hills on the plateau, and below 14,100 feet,
the springs begin to multiply, and the flanks of the mountain
are furrowed by the deeply eroded channels of several tiny
rivulets flowing in the direction of the forest zone. Fed
by the rich supply of moisture afforded by this region, the
rivulets rapidly increase in size and number, and unite to
form streams, which make their way towards the plains
through ever deeper and wider valleys. In their lower course
many of the streams attain the magnitude of rivers, but after
draining off the water from a number of marshes that occur
at the bottom of the mountain (north of Kahö, south of
Pokomo), they all fall into the Rufu or Pangani.

In contrast to the southern side, the north side of Kilima-
njaro is extremely poor in springs and water-courses, and
even the west has but one solitary stream, the Ngare n'Erobi,
which rises in the Shira chain and is finally lost in the plains.
In the north-west not a single stream descends from tlie
mountain. The water from the ice and from the narrow belt
of forest on the north, unites with the water which drains
from the bare rocks of Mawenzi in the north-west, and finds
its way to the great depression in the northern plains, where
it forms four large and several small marshes (Nyiri). The
belt of marshes has no outlet, but the balance is maintained
by evaporation. Of the four large marshes the two to the
west are supplied from Kibo, the others from Mawenzi,
whose greater rainfall and broader belt of forest on this side

RIVERS OF THE KILIMANJARO REGION. 321

sufficiently account for the size of the eastmost and largest
marsh of all. Nearly all the water finds its way to the marshes
underground, trickling through the porous superficial layers
to the solid rock beneath. Only a few insignificant rivulets
are to be met with, and scarcely a ravine furrows the smooth
slopes of the mountain.

The north side of Mawenzi forms the watershed for the
Indian Ocean. Thence the head waters of the Tsavo and
Sabaki flow north-east and east. In the east rises the Rombo,
which at first follows a southerly course, but after spreading
out into the marshy Lake Hombo (Tsavo), suddenly makes
a bend and flows towards the east. The Lumi also rises on
the same side of the peak, and flows so close to the Eombo
as almost to form a fork. The Lumi, however, maintains its
southerly direction, and may thus be said to represent the
upper course of the Rufu or Pangani. From this it follows
that the watershed between the Sabaki and the Pangani lies
between the Useri (a tributary of the former) and the river
Lumi. The Pangani receives the drainage from the whole
of the south-eastern side of Kilimanjaro, and is the outlet
for the crater lake of Jala, while Lake Jipe is only a sort of
backwater of the Lumi, from which the river issues again as
the Rufu. After receiving all the tributary streams which
flow from the south side of Kilimanjaro, and which increase
in number and volume towards the west, the Rufu takes a
south-easterly direction, and finally falls into the Indian
Ocean.

It is not necessary that in the following pages I should
devote as much space to the botany, zoology, and ethnology
of Kilimanjaro as I have already given to the consideration
of its physical features. The former have received ample
justice at the hands of my predecessors, most of whom,

322 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

however, did not penetrate into the lofty regions which formed
my own special sphere of observation. The most important
contributions to our knowledge of the flora have been made
by Von der Decken, Johnston, and Von Ilöhnel. Count
Teleki, Willoughby and Harvey, and, above all, Dr. Abbott,
have devoted themselves to the study of the fauna ; and
every traveller who has visited the region has helped more or
less to familiarise us with the natives and their peculiarities
of race and custom. I shall only attempt, therefore, to throw
new light on the general character of the vegetation by
considering it in relation to the geography of the mountain,
and for the rest must refer my readers to the narrative portion
of the book and to the xlppendix.

As the flora of a district depends on the climate and the
nature of the soil, we should naturally expect the very greatest
variety on a snow mountain lying near the equator, where the
greatest extremes both of soil and climate meet. Still, the
character and distribution of the plants to be met with on
Kilimanjaro are not difficult to understand if the following
points are kept in view : that the soil is derived from volcanic
rocks ; that the extent of the mountain is much greater
towards the south than towards the north, and that here too
its slope is more gentle ; that the southern side is well watered,
while the north is extremely arid ; and that the southern face
of Kibo is covered with ice from 19,700 to 13,000 feet (the
limit of the snowfall being 1500 feet lower), while in the dry
season the ice on Mawenzi entirely disappears.

According to Mr. Chanler, the belt of tree-steppe at the
bottom of the mountain stretches upward to a height of from
2460 to 2950 feet in the south, and to 4900 feet in the north,
the trees gradually increasing in luxuriance as they ascend.
Along the course of the streams (in Arusha, Kahe, and Taveta,
for example) belts of wood run out into the surrounding

ZONES OF VEGETATION. 323

steppes, and as the streams on the south side are extremely
numerous, the wooded strips frequently unite and form more
or less extensive forests. In these the trees are of the charac-
teristic tropical type, and, favoured by the greater warmth
of the steppe region, they occasionally excel those of the true
forest zone in luxuriance of growth.

Between 2950 feet and 3600 feet the tree-steppe gradually
passes into thick bush. At 3600 feet the bush reaches the
lower limit of the mist zone, and gives place to the hilly country
of Jagga — the cultivated region of Kilimanjaro — which extends
to an elevation of 6200 feet. On the north side the fields of
Jagga are represented by a grassy plateau, which runs along
the mountain side at the same elevation, and affords a perma-
nent home for the Masai and their cattle.

From 6200 feet — the lower limit of the cloud zone — the
primeval forest, well watered and well drained, stretches up-
ward along an increasingly steep subsoil of solid rock, till it
reaches the thermal limit at about 9800 feet. In the north
the forest is limited to a strip between 7200 and 9100 feet, and
in the north-west it disappears altogether, and is replaced by
shrubs and grass. From the primeval forest on the south side,
belts of wood run upwards along the more sheltered water-
courses and hollows, but even these cease at 10,500 feet,
which may be stated as the maximum limit of the growth
of trees.

Above the forest the grass-lands rise to about 12,800 feet ;
they are at first studded with shrubs, but these gradually dis-
appear with the increasing elevation. Above the grass-lands
proper comes a region where the grass and herbs appear only
in clumps and tufts — the region of the highest flowering plants
on Kilimanjaro. Both on the south and on the north side the
flowering plants combine to form a tolerably close belt of vege-
tation up to a height of 14,100 feet. Above that they appear

324 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

only in isolated strips and patches, where peculiarly favoured by
local conditions. Above 15,400 feet on the east of Kibo, and
15,550 feet on the- west of Mawenzi, they disappear entirely,
the last representatives being a sparse sprinkling of low,
creeping herbs. Above the limits mentioned the existence of
flowering plants becomes impossible, owing to the periodical
accumulations of snow, the low night temperature, and the
inhospitable nature of the ground, which consists solely of
bare volcanic rocks or barren blocks of lava. The region
of the summit is reserved solely for the lichens, of which
several species continue up to the ice-line, while two go be-
yond it, and occur even on the rocks of the Kaiser Wilhelm's
Peak.

Omitting the cultivated zone of Jagga, which ought pro-
perly to be included in the bush region, the vegetation of
Kilimanjaro thus naturally divides itself into the six following
zones : — Tree-steppe, 300 to 2950 feet ; bush, 2950 to 6200
feet; forest, 6200 to 9S00 feet; grass-land, 9800 to 12,800
feet; flowering plants, 12,800 to 15,500 feet; lichens, 15,500
to 19,700 feet. Of these, the two first gradually pass into
each other, whilst between all the others the transition is
sharply defined. In the case of the forest, man as well as
nature has been at work, so that its limits have been deter-
mined as much by the hoe and the firebrand as by tempera-
ture and moisture. All the others are the result of natural
conditions, and above all, of climate.

The efi'ects of climate are more strikingly seen above the
ice-line, where the ice at once records the work of heat and
cold, than in the regions further down the mountain, where
the vegetation is affected more gradually by extremes of
temperature. To show on what data my conclusions have
been based, I here submit a table showing the minimum
temperature of the atmosphere within the different zones of

THE VEGETATION AND THE TEMPERATURE. 325

vegetation, and the temperature during the day of some of
the streams in the same reerions : —

Locality.

Dehu (1800 feet)

Habaii (3170 feet) .
Himo (3020 feet) . .

Moji stream (2820 feet)

Ngombere (2950 feet)

Weri-weri (3930 feet)
Kikafu (4440 feet) .

Rua {6430 feet) . .

Mue (94S0 feet) . .

Kiboso (9940 feet)

Tree-steppe at foot
of mountain.

■ Bush

Lower limit of forest -

Upper limit of forest

Snow-spring rivulet (12,710 feet) ; Grass-land

Min. Temp.

of Atmos-

Tempera

phere.

67.1

71.6^

66.2

70.7

63.5

65-3

64.4

65-3 \

66.2

68.0

64.4

65-3

62.6

65-3 J

50.9

64.4 ^

51.8

64.4

50.0

63-5 .

55-4

635

54.5

63-5

54-5

60.8 J

42.8

527 ]

46.4

53-6

47-3

53-6

46.4

527

32.0

45-5 I

32.9

46.4

26.6

44.6

27.5

44.6

26.6

44.6 J

28.4

44.6 )

29-3

45-5 S

17.6

42.8 ■
41.0

19.4

22.1

41.0
41.9 J

19.4

from
Mawenzi,

- from Kibo.

from
Mawenzi.

from Kibo.

from
Mawenzi.

Kilimanjaro is thus a mountain on which every con-
ceivable climate is to be met with. The inhabited zone is
limited to Jagga, however, a belt of country occupying the
southern side of the mountain between 3600 and 6200 feet,
and having an area (exclusive of the fern zone) of 300 square
miles. Below Jagga, owing to the barrenness of the steppe,
the country is not habitable except along the banks of the
streams, as in Taveta, Kahe, and Arusha ; above Jagga there
are the eternal mist and rain of the forest, and above the forest
the cold and snows of the Alps. On the north side the want
of streams makes agriculture impracticable, but the pasture-

326 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

land is good, and hence it has been taken possession of by the
Masai and their great herds of cattle.

But although confined to such narrow limits, Jagga is a
splendid country ; indeed it would be one vast garden if it were
not for the endless wars waged between the various petty states.
The absorption of the smaller states by the larger has already
begun ; and if only that these continual feuds might be put a
stop to, it is highly desirable that the process should continue.
From a European standpoint, the commercial value of the
products of Kilimanjaro so far is nil. The timber is worthless,
indiarubber is scarce, the orchilla lichen certainly not common,
and minerals are almost absent. At the same time, the south
side of the mountain offers all the essential conditions by
which the country might be turned to good account. The soil
is exceedingly fertile, water is abundant, and the climate
equable. Coffee, tea, cinchona, cinnamon, and vanilla might
be introduced with the greatest advantage. The inhabitants,
moreover, are friendly, and are accustomed to obey their chiefs
implicitly, and (an unusual thing among negro tribes) the men
as well as the women are used to agricultural labour.

As compared with the other mountainous countries of East
Africa — with the best of which, Usambara, I am well acquainted
— Jagga is the only district which approaches the tropical high-
lands of southern India, Ceylon, Java, and the Philippine
Islands, of which I can also speak from experience. In fer-
tility it far exceeds the narrow strip of coast-line which is
included in the German sphere of interest, and the mountain
climate gives it a further advantage over the latter. It has
the advantage over Usambara, Pare, and Ugweno in its soil,
in the certainty and regularity of its rainfall, the number and
distribution of its streams, and its comparatively large popula-
tion ; yet each of the districts I have named is a little mountain
paradise in the unending waste of barren, almost uninhabited

EAST AFRICAN SOIL AND CLIMATE. 327

steppe, savannah, and bush, which constitutes eighty per cent,
of our East African Protectorate.

In order rightly to understand the contrast between these
mountainous districts and other parts of East Africa — in order
justly to appreciate their value — it becomes necessary to take
a brief general survey of the physical peculiarities of the
whole region.

The German sphere of interest is a tropical region with
definite alternating dry and wet seasons. It is mostly in-
cluded in the southern hemisphere, and as the rains always
occur between the winter and the summer solstice, the wet
seasons accordingly extend from October to January, and
from the middle of April to the end of May. Throughout
their whole extent the East African steppes are entirely de-
pendent for their supply of moisture on these periodic rains,
and in the intervals between are exposed to the most intense
heat. As we should naturally expect, these wide extremes of
climate produce a marked efiect on the soil and vegetation of
the region, and entirely determine its fertility.

In the dry season a high temperature during the day is
followed by a low temperature during the night : the ground is
rapidly heated to an unusual degree and then as rapidly cools
down, as the result of which the rocks split up, and the soil is
dried and cracked to a considerable depth. On the sudden
commencement of the wet season, the rain descends in tor-
rents, and penetrates through the soil to the underlying rock.
The surface layer of loose earth it partly washes away, and
its chemical action on the rock below is no less destructive.
Under the action of sun and wind the ground rapidly
dries again, and from being light and porous gradually be-
comes of a clayey and cellular character, and being impreg-
nated with oxide of iron, assumes the brick-red colour which
has won for the " red soil " of Africa the name of " latente."

328 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

Under these conditions — which correspond exactly to
what Pechuel-Loesche describes as characteristic of West
Africa also — there can be no accumulation of humus,
and the effect on the vegetation may easily be conceived.
The whole period of growth, from the first shooting of the
seed to the ripening of the fruit, is compressed into the
brief interval of the rainy season, and passes over the land
like a gladsome wave of green, only to be succeeded by a
dull, dark wave of grey. Leaf and flower and fruit follow
each other in rapid succession, and the grass in many places
springs to a height of over six feet ; but on the approach of
the dry season the verdant thicket just as quickly turns to
grey, dry touchwood, to be gradually cleared away by the
natives as they burn it down before preparing the ground for
fresh plantations.

Considering the wonderful change which comes over
the aspect of the land, it is easy to understand how two
travellers who had visited the region at different seasons of
the year might be led to form the most opposite conclusions,
as to its fertility. It is not enough to judge by appearances
however ; the true index to the nature of the soil and of the
climate lies in the type and structural peculiarities of the
vegetation, dependent as these are on the character of the
environment.

Generally speaking, the vegetation of central East Africa
consists mainly of scanty, tufted grass, interspersed with the
stunted forms typical of the arid bush and tree-steppes, with
a sprinkling of deciduous trees and shrubs of extremely
hardy character. The woods are confined to narrow strips
along the margin of the streams, or to the vicinity of lakes
and marshes, and there is nowhere any approach to the vast
stretches of primeval forest such as are found in South
America and the Indian Ai'chipelago. The flora bears equally

EFFECT OF LOCAL RAINS. 329

little resemblance to the carefully selected, well-arranged
collections of tropical plants brought together in our green-
houses and botanic gardens. From these, as a rule, we
should form as erroneous an impression of tropical vegeta-
tion in its natural state as if we were to judge of the char-
acter and civilisation of the natives from the artistic sketches
and groups of weapons, ornaments, and household utensils
commonly displayed in our exhibitions and museums.

Important modifications take place in the prevailing
character of the East African climate and flora in regions
which, owing to elevation above or proximity to the sea,
enjoy a local rainfall independent of the regular wet season.
As every one knows, when the heated air rises from the
slopes of a mountain or plateau region, the colder air rushes
in to supply its place, and thus an atmospheric current sets
in towards the mountain. If the elevation of the ground
is so great that the wind thus established is sensibly cooled
as it reaches the higher altitudes, or if the wind already
contains sufficient moisture to be condensed on coming into
contact with outstanding obstacles, clouds are formed and
the moisture falls again in the form of rain. These rains are
strictly local, the wind parting with all its moisture among
the mountains before it reaches the surrounding country.

The same thing happens in the neighbourhood of the sea
or of great lakes. During the day a current sets in towards
the land, and the moisture is deposited all along the shore
across a belt more or less broad, according to the conforma-
tion of the land. Here, too, the clouds are sucked dry before
they can penetrate beyond the mountains, and the wind, blow-
ing inland, carries with it nothing but drought.

In the regions subject to these local rains — which provide
an unfailing supply of moisture even during the dry season —
the laterite soil is replaced by a layer of humus, and the

330 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

flora of the bush and trec-stcppes is exchanged for the richer
vegetation of more favoured tropical lands. Thus, in Africa,
fertility goes by the rule of contraries — the broad plateau
lands are sterile, and fertility is limited to the edge of the
plateau, the coast, and the isolated mountain regions. In
these districts tropical products of all kinds may be raised.
Here, accordingly, and along the banks of the streams, we
find the only settled population, while the steppes are left
to nomadic tribes who constantly roam from place to place,
wherever there is sufficient pasture for their cattle.

The greater part, not only of the German sphere of interest,
but of all Equatorial Africa, is a sterile, thinly-populated
wilderness, which is barely capable of supplying the frugal
wants of the negro, and has no natural products of value to
Europeans. From the nature of the soil the latter could not
be raised even if they were introduced. " One-fifth of German
East Africa is good land," says Wissman ; " the rest is a barren
waste " — a remark which is in curious contrast to the optimistic
statement of Dr. Peters, "that for extent and fertility it will
stand comparison with any tropical colony in the world." I my-
self have visited many of the more important tropical colonies,
including India, Ceylon, Java, Cuba, and the Philippine Islands,
and I am sorry to say I cannot endorse Dr. Peters' opinion.

But the greater part of tropical East Africa is not only
sterile — it is unhealthy. Fever is everywhere common, and
though the attacks are more frequent and more severe at the
coast and near the rivers, the plateaux and the habitable
mountain regions by no means escape. Europeans and
negroes alike seem liable to be attacked, as I know from
experience among the members of my caravan ; and even the
natives are not altogether exempt, both Mandara and Mareale
having been repeatedly obliged to draw upon my stock of
quinine. These remarks are corroborated by the statements

EAST AFRICA AS A RESIDENCE. 331

of Dr. Kohlstock, who, as surgeon-major of the native troops,
has had a wide experience. Those travellers suffer least w^lio
are constantly on the move, and who do not ' stay long in
any one place, but not one in a thousand escapes scot free,
or if he gets off easily with fever, he is all the more likely to
fall a victim to dysentery. The coolness of the nights, con-
sequent on the cloudless atmosphere, is hailed by Europeans
as a welcome relief after the heat of the day ; but the abrupt
changes of temperature interfere with the action of the skin
and other organs, causing rheumatism, and generally diminish-
ing the power of the organism to resist disease.

In East Africa it is impossible for Europeans to live con-
tinuously for any length of time, as in the healthier climate of
the northern and southern parts of the continent ; and, on the
other hand, money cannot be made so rapidly during a short
stay as in the fertile regions of tropical South America, the
West Indies, and the Sunda Archipelago, which are also
unsuitable for a prolonged residence. All apparently success-
ful examples of acclimatisation have been short-lived, none
ever extending beyond a single generation. This fact would
be less hotly contested if the representations of enthusiasts
and interested parties were taken for what they are worth,
and if people would only learn to distinguish clearly between
North, South, and Central Africa. At present, in the minds
not only of the ignorant many, but of a large proportion
of the cultured few, "Africa" means a confused jumble of
" niggers " and " savages," with heat, lions, deserts, palm-
trees, and plantations as an appropriate setting ; and he would
indeed be a notable exception who remembered that the
word Africa includes a whole continent, extending through
70° of latitude and embracing every imaginable climate, and
that, therefore, remarks and observations which are perfectly
true of the south or north, may be utterly inapplicable to the

332 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

more central regions. This criticism may seem severe, but
it is absolutely true.

Before Germany awakened to a sense of her need of
colonies, the most desirable parts of the globe were already
taken up, and there was nothing better than Equatorial Africa
to fall back upon ; and the greatest service that Dr. Peters
has rendered to his country has been the bringing of this large
extent of territory under her sway. Other nations have sought
to share it with us partly because they too had the desire
to extend their dominions, and were naturally unwilling
that one should absorb what had hitherto been free to all ;
partly because they saw their vested interests threatened
both within the region that is now German and in others
adjoining it. In the furore created by the glowing represen-
tations of our early pioneers, the more measured language of
their predecessors was forgotten, and it was generally believed
in Europe that in annexing East Africa we had succeeded
in carrying off a prize. From the outset, however, a very
different opinion prevailed in Africa, as I myself can bear
witness. I happened to be at the South African gold-fields at
the very time when, emulating the example of Dr. Peters, our
agents and explorers were busy hoisting the German flag in
every direction. I was astonished to find that in the Trans-
vaal the events which were creating such a lively sensation
in Europe excited little or no attention, whilst colonial pro-
jects regarding other parts of Africa were discussed with the
keenest interest. The moral and national significance of
our colonial policy could not, of course, be appreciated by
foreigners ; the matter was looked at purely in its practical
aspect, and it was generally considered that we had been any-
thing but " practical." Equally little importance was attached
to Stanley's sensational journeys, which in Europe were said
to have opened up the interior of Africa as the land of the

EAST AFRICA IN ITS COLONIAL ASPECTS. 333

future for European enterprise. The reason for this apparent
want of enthusiasm was not far to seek. Among the daring
hunters and traders of Natal, the Transvaal, and the Orange
Free State, there are dozens who have undergone greater
hardships and overcome greater difficulties than any Stanley
and many more of our popular heroes ever had to face ; and
they judge accordingly by a very different standard from that
which is applied by the romantic arm-chair explorers and
unthinking hero-worshippers of Europe. For similar reasons
their views on the subject of the partition of Central Africa
are equally common-sense and practical, and broadly speak-
ing, the only regions whose value was supposed to correspond
at all to the popular estimate were Uganda, and what was
formerly known as the Equatorial Province,

My own opinion concurred exactly with the views current
in South Africa as regards the East African plateau regions.
We ought all along to have made a point of confining our
operations to the coast ; and although, for political reasons,
that is no longer possible on an extended scale, the same
course should be pursued within our own sphere of interest,
for here, as in West Africa, it is the seaports and the coast
region that are most capable of development. The whole
history of the exploration and exploitation of Equatorial
Africa — by the Portuguese, Spanish, Dutch, French, and
English — points to the same conclusion. From the latter
half of the fifteenth century downwards, these colonising
nations, not without frequently coming into collision, have
set themselves, with untiring perseverance and enormous ex-
penditure of capital, to develop the resources of this part of
the continent, but wherever they have endeavoured to push
their commercial conquests far into the interior, the attempt
has been rendered abortive either through the unhealthiness
of the climate or the unproductiveness of the soil. The same

334 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

history is being repeated at the present day. Look where
you will throughout the more central regions of the dark
continent — at the trading stations on the Congo, or the
mission stations on Lake Nyassa and the Victoria Nyanza —
all alike breathe the air of a churchyard, all alike wear the
" Hippocratic face."

To come now to the trade between the interior and the
coast. As an opening for commerce, Africa has frequently
been called " a second India." A more misleading metaphor
could scarcely be imagined. There is little or no resemblance
between the Africa of to-day and the India which lay ready
to the hands of the English traders a hundred years ago ;
and the resemblance between our modern trading companies
and the old East India Company is scarcely greater. India,
when the English Company first began to open it up, was
already densely populated and in a high state of civilisation,
easy communication had been established between the in-
terior and the coast, the climate was tolerable, the natural
resources w^ere enormous — advantages every one of which
are in Central Africa conspicuous by their absence. Seldom
or never does the East African negro come down to the
coast, bringing with him the produce of his fields or the
spoils of the chase ; partly he is too lazy, and partly he
has a very reasonable fear of being robbed. Nowhere
does nature sow her treasures with unsparing hand, but
scatters them thinly over wide tracts of countiy, whence
they must be carried by Arab and Swahili traders, who are
content to work under conditions which a European would
consider intolerable. Their caravans either consist solely
of slaves, or are composed of small independent dealers,
each trading for his ow^n profit. To them it is a matter of
indifference whether the expedition returns within the time
calculated or extends over six months or a year longer. Time

CONDITIONS OF TRADE. 335

is of no value to them, and the Indian to whom they dispose of
their wares at the coast or Zanzibar, and w^ho has them com-
pletely in his power by an elaborate system of money-lending,
knows that he can always find a ready and profitable market
among the European commercial firms.

Yet small as is the expenditure of capital required under
these conditions, a profitable trade in certain articles, such as
oil-seeds, orchilla lichen, cotton, copal, and the like, is only
possible throughout a limited area, extending inland to no
great distance from the coast. Here these articles have their
natural geographical limit, and immediately it is passed, the
cost of transport exceeds the commercial value of the goods,
except in the case of a few special products, such as india-
rubber and ivory. The trafiic in the latter is the mono-
poly of the great Ai'ab traders, who penetrate to the interior
and travel over enormous tracts of country, stealing not
only the ivory but the natives, whom they utilise to carry
their merchandise to the coast. This is the only way in
which the ivory trade can be made a source of profit, and it
is simply nonsense to think that it might be developed by
making roads and railways, for all the ivory that could be
collected in the course of a year might be brought to the
coast by a single train, and the other products are not of
sufficient value to make a railway pay. Roads in most
places would be practically valueless, since they could not
follow the course of the rivers, and therefore, at least
during the dry season, would be unsuitable for oxen, which
in South Africa, in spite of the tsetse fly, make excellent
substitutes for horses. Neither horses nor camels can stand
the Central African climate ; elephants are too dear, unless
the native species could be tamed ; and donkeys offer no
essential advantage over the ordinary porter.

In short, until we are prepared to leave " commercial

336 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

prospects " in the background, and advance solely in the
name of Christianity and civilisation, we may as well abandon
all our Utopian schemes for the opening up of inner Africa.
Even then I should not care to prophesy too hopefully of the
result, for what have we to show to-day for all the money and
all the lives and all the earnest labours of many devoted mis-
sionaries that have been spent in the endeavour to shed a ray
of light across the darkness of African heathendom ? How is
it that around the mission stations we find the natives as a
whole totally unaffected by the preaching of the Gospel, the
only converts being a few individuals who find it to their
material advantage to enter the service of the missionaries, or
slaves whom the latter have bought and freed ? How is it
that such an amiable missionary as Mackay of Uganda, in
reviewing the results of his twelve years' toil, should bitterly
sum up with the conclusion that every effort would prove
in vain until the backbone of native indifference had been
broken ? The spiritual teachings of the Gospel are utterly
unintelligible to the darkened mind of the Bantu negro ;
the practical doctrines and ceremonies of Islam appeal to him
much more readily ; yet I doubt if the negro would ever
make even a good Mahommedan.

Apparently the African colossus is not to be overthrown by
the pigmy race of men ; nature claims the land for her own
undisputed sway. But as Edward Dicey pertinently observes,
speaking of the present epidemic of "African fever," the
effort after the ideal and the unattainable has exercised a
magic charm over the minds of men in all times and in all
ages ; and undertakings of inconceivable magnitude draw the
multitude like a magnet, if only they are placed in the proper
perspective. The search for the North Pole, and the projects
for submerging the Sahara and cutting the isthmus of Panama,
are striking illustrations of the truth of this remark. His

ENGLISH EAST AFRICA. 337

Majesty the King of the Belgians has sacrificed his millions
to one of these Utopian dreams, and Stanley notwithstanding,
he will one day wake to find he has been chasing an illusion,
as already all must see who can read colonial history, and do
not look at Africa through rose-coloured spectacles.

The limits of the German and English spheres of interest
have now been determined by international agreement, and
while in East Africa England has decidedly had the best of
the bargain, we, on the other hand, have had the advantage
in Europe in obtaining Heligoland in exchange for Vitu and
the Somal coast. England has secured for herself the back-
bone of the African Continent, and free communication
between her possessions in the north and in the south,
although possibly the value of the latter concession is more
imaginaiy than real. She has Mombaza, the best harbour on
the east coast, and Taveta, the only good caravan station in
the Kilimanjaro region. In the Tana she gets the most
important river, and in Somdl-land a tract of country which is
comparatively fertile. She further retains the right-of-way
to the Upper Nile, and in Uganda she possesses at once the
most highly cultivated and the most densely populated region
in Equatorial Africa, and the key to the Sudan and Egypt.
The latter is already half English, and it cannot for ever remain
in the state of turmoil created by the recent Mahdist move-
ment. In the south, by securing the free passage of the
Zambezi, England establishes the communication between
Nyassa and the Matabele countiy on the one hand, and be-
tween Nyassa and the Indian Ocean on the other. But the
greatest gain of all has been the proclamation of a British
Protectorate over Zanzibar and Pemba, by which England
acquires not only the right over two large and productive
spice islands and the main seat of African commerce, but
also the control of the Sultan and of the great proportion of

338 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

the Arabs, who, as extensive boiTowers from the Indians — the
capitalist class in East Africa — are completely in the latter's
power.

Yet in England, notwithstanding these advantages, there
is a daily increasing number of intelligent and far-seeing men,
who, through the medium of the press and of the platform,
take every opportunity of bidding their countrymen beware of
the many apparently plausible schemes for the opening up of
inner Africa, and even urge that England should wash her
hands of the region altogether, and endeavour to exchange it
for the German colony of Ncav Guinea. The ciy is a warning
to Germany as well as England. Good as are the effects of
our patriotic and colonial ardour in many ways, it is apt to
blind us to the real value of the possessions we have acquired.
The wine of enthusiasm must be mixed with the water of fact
if it is to stimulate yet not intoxicate, and in this modern
drama, of which Africa is the theatre, we have need of dispas-
sionate and sober-minded judges to act as chorus, however
thankless the role may be.

Broadly speaking, our only practical plan in East Africa is
to limit all our schemes for the development of trade and the
cultivation of the soil to the region of the coast and the moun-
tainous districts in its immediate vicinity — more especially the
tract of country between Usambara and Kilimanjaro. From
a political point of view it may be looked upon as advan-
tageous for Emin Pasha and Wissman to establish stations
in the interior — they will always be useful to hold the Arabs
and our neighbours in check ; but unless for the purely
philanthropic object of putting down the slave trade, it is a
mistake to suppose that we shall derive any benefit from
schemes such as that for placing steamers on the great lakes
for example, for except slaves the region of the lakes neither
does nor could produce any articles of sufficient commercial

THE KILIMANJARO RAILWAY. 339

value to defray the cost of maintaining the steamers and of
transport to the coast.

True, on each of the great lakes — Nyassa, Tanganyika,
and the Victoria Nyanza — the English have already either a
steamboat or a sailing vessel ; but these belong to the English
Missionary Societies, and are not expected to "pay" in the
commercial sense of the word. It is proposed further to
supplement this inland fleet by another steamer for the
Victoria Nyanza ; but the project has the practical end in
view of completing the line of communication through
English territory to the Nile and Upper Egypt, and of
establishing a connection between the British Protectorate of
Uganda and the terminus of the recently inaugurated railway
between Mombaza and Kavirondo, I doubt very much,
however, whether this railway will ever get far beyond the
cutting of the first sod, a ceremony which has been duly
performed with a view to attracting additional shareholders.
In any case, for the reasons we have so often repeated, it can
never be made to pay, except as far as Taveta and Kilima-
njaro, the trade with which England would thus absorb
entirely. At the same time, to start an opposition German
line w^ould be utter folly, for the trade would barely be equal
to the support of one, and the initial expense caused by
the difficulty of laying the line through German territory
would be much greater. To the west of the Usambara and
Par^ chain the ground is rough and in many places marshy,
and to the east, although the ground is level, there is the
Rufu swamp to be considered. Even then Me should not be
able to run the line as far as Taveta, the latter being English,
and Taveta, owing to its natural advantages, is the only really
suitable site for a terminus. Arusha could never be utilised
for this purpose, as all around the ground is too marshy ; and
besides,. it is too far from Kilimanjaro.

340 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

My own conclusions on the subject of East African colo-
nisation are these : — Instead of wasting time and money in
trying to open up the interior by railways and other unsuitable
means, let us confine our operations to the coast, and leave
the natives to bring their produce to us after their own time-
honoured fashion, which would seem after all to be the one
best suited to the nature of the country. Let us devote all
our energies to the improvement of our harbours at Tanga,
Pangaui, Bagamoyo, and Dar-es-Salaam, among which the last
possesses great natural advantages over all the others. Let us
forcibly prevent the export of slaves, though, since the whole
internal economy of the country is based on the principle of
slavery, we ought not as yet to demand its entire abolition.
A moderate house-tax might be imposed, and light export and
import duties, the burden of which would mostly fall on the
Indians ; and the unscnipulous system of money-lending
practised by the latter, which gives them such enormous
power over the Arab and negro sections of the population,
should be rigorously repressed.

Meanwhile we may begin to develop the natural resources
of the region by introducing European methods of cultiva-
tion into Usambara, whence, if they prove successful, we
may proceed further along the same line in the direction of
Pare and Ugweno. As we gradually make our way from
station to station a light tramway might be laid down, which
then, and only then, might be expected to pay from the profits
on the produce of the cultivated districts between. In the
cultivation of the more valuable products — tobacco, vanilla,
tea, and cocoa — free native labourers under European over-
seers might be employed — an experiment which has already
been tried with success in several districts between the coast
and Usambara. For the less important articles of export —
ground-nuts, cocoa-nuts, and oil-yielding plants generally —

THE GOSPEL OF WORK FOR THE NEGRO. 341

in the raising of which European superintendence may be
dispensed with, the system of compulsory labour in vogue in
the Philippine Islands might be introduced with advantage.
By this system, as in the " boss " system practised in South
Africa, the natives are not paid for their labour, but with the
consent of the chiefs are compelled to cultivate certain pro-
ducts, which the white traders pledge themselves to buy at
a definite, pre-arranged rate.

The result of such a system to the negroes themselves is
invaluable. Without being enslaved, they acquire the habit
of regular work, and thus make the first step in the direction
of a higher plane of civilisation. It is not to be expected
that the civilisation which has gradually become part and
parcel of the European in the hundreds of years it has taken
to develop is to be suddenly slipped on to the shoulders of
the negro, like some new garment which would be sure to fit.
This fact is so self-evident that it savours almost of a truism,
yet apparently it cannot be too often repeated. Again and
again we hear it said that the negro is only a child, and
all that he needs is to be trained like n child. A child
indeed he is, but of most sanguine temperament and imma-
ture instincts. He will never be taught merely by good
example and fine precepts, as the English missionaries would
seem to believe ; he must be trained in the school of hard
work, and he must be forced to work if he cannot be pre-
vailed upon to do so voluntarily. Moreover, as colonists we
have to do not with the education of an individual, perhaps
a peculiarly intelligent and well-disposed individual here and
there, but with the education of w^hole tribes and peoples
whose moral and spiritual training must necessarily be a work
of generations. We have to work, and why not the negro
also? The true riches of Equatorial Africa lie, not in its
mineral treasures, not in the wealth and variety of its animal

342 GEOGRAPHY AND COMMERCIAL PROSPECTS.

and vegetable products, but in the latent capacity of its people
for labour.

" Slowly but surely " must be our motto, for a colony, like
Kome, is not built in a day. In a colony like East Africa
especially, where the natural resources are comparatively poor,
there must be years, nay, decades of patient toil and patient
waiting, before we can hope to reap the fruits of success.
Then, too, a new era will commence for Kilimanjaro. The
area open for cultivation must always be confined to the
region between the arid soil of the steppes and the perpetual
mist and rain of the primeval forest ; but in Jagga there will
be ample room for every one for a long while to come, and by
the time that we are in a position to take up all the ground at
our disposal, it is to be hoped we shall have come into posses-
sion of Taveta also, when the most fertile region in East Africa
will lie open to German capital and German enterprise.

Meanwhile, Kilimanjaro, like the Nile, " is settled." The
African giant is vanquished — his hoary head has been laid
bare. But still for many future years the mountain will
prove an ample field for detailed exploration. To scientists
of all kinds it offers unexampled attractions ; to the botanist
and the meteorologist especially its loftier slopes promise an
almost undreamed of harvest. And still in the future as in the
past the " Ethiopian Mount Olympus " will remain the wonder
of all beholders ; and until the time when it too shall dissolve
and pass away, its majestic grandeur, its beauty and its soli-
tude, shall quicken the fancy and excite the feelings of all
who in the silent language of nature can trace the voice of
an eternal Godhead.

APPENDIX.

COPY OF THE AGREEMENT BETWEEN THE INDIAN MEIl-
CHANT SIWA HAJI AND DR. HANS MEYER ANENT THE
ENGAGEMENT OF A CARAVAN.

I. Siwa Haji hereby undertakes to engage for Dr. Hans Meyer a caravan
consisting of two headmen and sixty-two porters, each of whom shall carry
a load of 60 lbs. weight. Tliese shall accompany Dr. Hans Meyer or his
representative to Kilimanjaro, and shall pledge themselves to obey him or
his representative under all circumstances.

II. Siwa Haji undertakes to have the whole caravan in readiness to start
from Zanzibar at any date after August 20th, on receipt of ten days' notice
from Dr. Hans Meyer.

III. Dr. Hans Meyer undertakes to pay Siwa Haji for the hire of the
said sixty-four men at the rate of eleven dollars per head per month, reckon-
ing from the date of registration of the contract to the date of the return to
Zanzibar.

lY. Throughout the journey Dr. Hans Meyer will supply the men with
the necessary food and medicines, and will pay the toll for right of way
(lumgo).

V. Siwa Haji will refund to Dr. Hans Meyer any extra expense incurred
by the latter in supplying the place of deserters.

YI. Siwa Haji undertakes all risk of death, sickness, or desertion among
the porters, and pledges himself to keep the caravan up to its full strength
of sixty-two men. To this end Siwa Haji will send ten men over and above
the stipulated number, who will act as Asikari (soldiers), so long as they are
not required as porters. For each of these Dr. Hans Meyer will pay Siwa
Haji at the rate of eleven dollars per month, dating from the day on which
the man begins to act as porter.

YII. If a man deserts, leaving his load or his gun by the wayside, so
that the load or the gun is lost, or if a man deserts, taking bis load or

345

346 APPENDIX.

liis gun with liim, Siwa Haji undertakes to pay to Dr. Hans Meyer an
average indemnity of twenty-seven dollars for a load, and three dollars for a
gun. Siwa Haji does not hold himself responsible for any loss which Dr.
Meyer may sustain in any other way.

VIII. If a man dies, or deserts, or has to be left behind on afcount of
sickness, Dr. Hans Meyer will pay the monthly hire due up to the date of
the casualty.

IX. Dr. Hans Meyer will pay in advance the hire of the entire caravan
for three months. From this sum Siwa Haji will pay to each man such a
proportion as shall have been previously agreed upon.

X. Dr. Hans Meyer will defray the cost of the passage of the caravan
from Zanzibar to the coast, and from the coast back to Zanzibar.

XI. Dr. Meyer will obtain the consent of the Sultan for the formation
of the caravan.

XII. Dr. ^lej^er undertakes to engage the caravan for a period of not
less than three months.

(Signed) Dr. Hans Meyer.

„ Siwa Haji.

Zanzibar, Aujust 20, 1889.

Witnessed at the German and English Consulates.

Note. — Tlie point of most importance to me in the above Agreement was
that Siwa Haji undertook all risk of desertion (Art, VI.). The point of
most importance to Siwa Haji was that I paid him the sum of eleven dollars
per head per month (Art. III.), while he paid to the soldiers and porters
only the customary hire of six dollars (Ait. IX.), H. M,

II.

NOTE ON THE GEOLOGY OF THE KILIMANJARO REGION,

By Dr, C. a. TENNE, Berlin.

The geological collection submitted to me by Dr. Hans Meyer and his com-
panion, Herr Ludwig Purtscheller, as the result of their recent expedition
to Kilimanjaro, includes 331 specimens, and extends over three districts,
namely, the region between the coast and Kilimanjaro, the Ugweno Country,
and Mount Kilimanjaro itself.

In Sadebeck's geological map of East Africa^ five formations are shown
as occurring between the coast from Takaungu to Pangani and Taveta.
Immediately behind the alluvial deposits there is a belt of carboniferous

^ Alexander Sadebeck, Geology of East Africa, reprinted from Von der Decken's
Travels. Leipzig and Heidelberg, 1873.

GEOLOGY. 347

sandstone, followed by a band of purely carboniferous strata, to the west of
which are metamorphic sandstones and schists, and finally the more recent
volcanic rocks.

From Dr. Meyer's specimens it would appear that the shales in the
vicinity of the Bandarin camp contain ironstone nodules. On the road to
Maungu, immediately the Rabai rivulet is crossed, there is a succession of
arenaceous limestones, fine and coarse sandstones, and quartz-felspar con-
glomerates, probably derived from the gneiss region of Ndara, where cer-
tain strata are rich in bisilicates (biotite and hornblende), whilst in others
these elements are almost entirely absent. In the steppes between Ndara
and Taveta the gneiss is overlaid by sandstones and limestones, but occasionally
crops out and rises into hills, such as the Javia Hill, between Matate and
Bura. The steppes also contribute a few fragments of minerals probably
derived from pegmatitic veins in the crystalline rocks, the presence of which
is indicated by the specimens of quartz from between Bura and Taveta.

From Lanjoro Mdogo comes a specimen of red friable soil (laterite ?), said
to overlie gneiss, and probably to be regarded as the product of the weather-
ing of the same rock.

The above remarks on the formations of Ndara are supplemented by a
note on the label attached to one of the specimens, to the effect that the
beds of biotitic gneiss (rich in granitic elements) on the west side of the
mountain strike north and south and dip towards the west.

The Ugweno Country. — In Sadebeck's map the strata of the Ugweno
Country are classified among the crystalline schists. Dr. Meyer sends thirty-
seven specimens which fully bear out this classification. They are mostly
derived from the western, southern, and eastern slopes of the mountains,
but a few come from Gamualla in the north-west, and one or two from the
summit of Ngovi at the north-eastern extremity of the range. All these
are varieties of gneiss in which orthoclase felspar and quartz, with horn-
blende, biotite, and occasionally augite, predominate. The gneiss in the
vicinity of the Mrushunga contributes sevei-al specimens of specular iron,
while in the neighbourhood of Naguvu the decomposition of the ore has
resulted in the formation of a deposit of ferruginous sand. As in the region
between the coast and Taveta, formations resembHng laterite also occur. These
ai-e the result of subaerial action, and they contain ironstone nodules (rich
in hydro-oxides of iron), from which, together with the ferruginous sand above
referred to, the natives " obtain by smelting as much iron as they require."
The collection includes several fragments of the clay tubes through which the
blast is conveyed to the furnace ; these are encrusted with a coating of
oxidised iron.

Throughout the region the strata are said to strike generally north and
south ; in the west they dip at a high angle towards the west (80° in the
specular iron between the Mrushunga and Wangobi) ; in the east they dip

348 APPENDIX.

towards the east (gneiss from Ngovi, occurring at an altitude of 5400 feet,
and from between Ngovi and the Rufu swamp at an altitude of 4900 feet).
On Mount Gamualla, however, the strata (augitic gneiss) strike N.N.E. 15''
S.S.W., and dip E.S.H at an angle of 53°, while the amphiboline gneiss
occurring at an altitude of 5600 feet between Naguvu and Ngovi strikes
N.E. 35° S.W., and dips at an angle of 45° towai-ds E.S.E.

Kilimanjaro. — The geological collection made by Dr. Meyer during his
former visit to Kilimanjaro, which now forms part of the mineralogical
collection in Leipzig, has already been the subject of a thorough investigation
by J. S. Hyland, Esq., of Liverpool.^ Besides several examples of pegmatite,
one of gneiss, and one of amphibolite from between tlie coast and Kilima-
njaro, Mr. Hyland found representatives of the following types of rock: —
Felspathic basalt (7 localities), Tephrite (3 loc), Nepheline basanite (5 loc),
Leucitic basanite (i loc), Nepheline basalt (i loc), Limburgite (6 loc),
Basaltic obsidian (i loc).

In the present collection, which includes 248 .specimens, the same types are
represented, and, so far as my examination goes, there are none that are new.

According to Mr. Hyland, J'elspatliic basalt occurs on the Lumi at Taveta,
on the shores of Lake Jipe to the south of Taveta, and again below Marangu.
Specimens from these districts have not reached me ; but in the new collec-
tion felspathic basalt is shown to occur fai-ther to the west of Marangu,
between Marangu and Moji, at an altitude of 4260 feet, "on the paths and
in the river-beds, and also cropping out at the surface." I am therefore
able to corroborate Mr. Hyland's opinion that the plagioclase basalt originated
from Kibo, from Mawenzi, and from the two cones on the saddle l}^ng
nearest to the latter peak.

On Kibo the typical rock .seems to form a stream running from the
crater towards the south-east in the direction of Dr. Meyer's camp at the
Mue, specimens from the latter place occurring in the collection examined by
Mr. Hyland. From the Mue — judging from the specimens in the new col-
lection — the stream continues downwards to an elevation of 12,470 feet.
The rock appears at the surface only up to a level of 18,700 feet; the speci-
mens found below 12,470 feet at the Weri-weri, and at the junction of the
Nasere and the Kikafu, have probably been brought down by the streams.
The rock is distinguished by large plagioclase crystals, the faces of which, on
lateral cleavage, appear as rounded discs the size of a shilling ; on basal
cleavage the crystals are seen to be elongated, with rounded ends and many
parallel striae. On the label attached to a specimen from the eastern lava
hill on the saddle (14,800 feet) there is a note to the efiFect that the strata
strike north and south and dip towards the south at an angle of 23°. From

' J. S. Hyland, lieber die Gesteine des Kilimandscharo und dessen Umgehung. Tscher-
mak"s Mineralügis,2he und Petrographische Mitteilungen X.

GEOLOGY. 349

this it would appear that the stream of lava has flowed from the crater and
spread out in the form of a wide sheet.

From the west side of Mawenzi comes a single specimen of felspathic
basalt, said to have occurred at an elevation of 16,700 feet. The north side
is well represented, however, and the felspar crystals are of the tvpical
plagioclase form. Here, at an elevation of 16,400 feet, the strata are said to
be " 150-250 feet thick," and again strike north and south, dipping towards
the north-west at an angle of 25°. Lower down, at an altitude of 15.750
feet, the strata strike south-east and north-west, and dip towards the south.
Here also the lava streams have spread out into sheets, having flowed from
a rent on the northern side of the Mawenzi crater.

Mr. Hyland mentions specimens of Tephrite as having been obtained from
three different points — two from near the Schneequelle (spring in the snow),
and the third from the lava hill on the saddle, which lies nearest to Mawenzi.
^one of the specimens I have examined have been obtained directly from
the solid rock, but are derived from loose blocks on the path between
Marangu and Moji, from between Uru and the "Weri-weri, and from the
Kikafu. From the Weri-weri specimens were also obtained by Yon der
Decken.

The rock for the most part is considerably weathered, and the external
layers are of a dark brown colour, which passes insensibly into the light
grey of the nucleus.

By far the largest number of specimens are nepheline hasanite, but they
are derived almost exclusively from the Kibo region. The main mass of
the type of rock in question seems to have originated to the north of the
stream of felspathic basalt, which has flowed from the south-east side of the
crater. Thence it has spread far out into the region of the Mue along the
eastern and south-eastern slopes of the mountain. The sides of the rent in
the wall of the crater, which constitutes the valley of the Ratzel glacier, are
composed of this rock, as is also the north side of the crater wall. Many of
the labels bear notes to the effect that nepheline basanite occurs more com-
monly and more extensively than any other rock. It is further said to be
stratified, from which we may infer that several consecutive eruptions have
taken place at the same point.

Nepheline basanite also occurs at the boma of the chief of Majamc^, in
the neighbourhood of the Kikafu, which rises in the south-west of Kibo ;
but here, as at the Rau and the Weri-weri, the specimens have been derived
from loose blocks and boulders brought down by the stream.

In colour and texture the specimens of this rock resemble the basalt, but
they may be distinguished from the latter at a glance by the development of
the felspar crystals, which on transverse cleavage plainly show the typical
form of the rhomboid porphyries. In this class must also be included certain
specimens of vitreous rock in which the glassy base, while in a liquid state.

350 APPENDIX.

has siuTOunded the typical felspar crystals, so that the tnie nature of the rock
is now only to be judged from the detached crystals of felspar disseminated
through it.

As compared with nepheline basanite, leucitic hasanite is confined to a
very limited area. In the collection examined by Mr. Hyland it was repre-
sented by a single specimen derived from the sheet of volcanic ash to the
south-east of Kibo. In the collection submitted to me all the specimens
came from the crater.

The rock consists of a grey base, through wliich are disseminated large
crystals of felspar and small crystals of leucite, both of a whitish colour.

Nepheline basalt, mentioned by Mr. Hyland as occurring in Marangu, is
described in the px'esent collection as derived from the region of nepheline
basanite between the Mue and Kibo (i 1,500-13,000 feet), but the beds are not
of the same extent and thickness. Some of the specimens come from the
eastern lava hill on the saddle between Kibo and Mawenzi, where the strata
strike north and south, and dip towards the south at an angle of 23°.
Besides appearing in the stratified form, this rock occui's in large blocks
between Marangu and the Rua (5900 feet), and on the Ilinio (2600 feet)
in the form of erratic blocks and boulders from the ravine of the Kikafu.

The rocks of this type are easily distinguished by the presence of olivine,
and the absence of the long felspar crystals.

It only remains to mention the presence of Liinlurrjites, which, accord-
ing to Mr. Hyland, appear in the sheet of volcanic ash on the south-east
side of Kibo, while a third variety (distinguished by the presence of
augite) comes from the lava stream of the hill nearest MawenzL The
specimens of limburgite submitted to me have likewise been derived only
from these two localities. From the remarks on the labels — "From a pro-
jecting rock on the sheet of ashes," and " East of Kibo : many loose blocks
between 12,800 and 13,500 feet" — I am led to the conclusion that the lim-
burgites have originated prior to the eruption of the felspathic basalts and
nepheline basanites from a lava stream issuing from the same rent as these
latter. The lava hill nearest to Mawenzi possibly originated at the same
time, and the felspathic basalts and nepheline basalt." of the region may
be derived from masses of lava which issued later from the rent.

In their weathered condition (most of the specimens consist of small
fragments, of which the outer layers are much weathered) the limburgites
are easily distinguished, the large crystals of augite and the somewhat
smaller glittering ciystals of olivine standing out conspicuously from the
reddish brown (or, in a fresh section, black) base. In fresh specimens the
vitreous lustre of the base is a noteworthy feature.

In the formation of Kilimanjaro an important part has been played by
the great line of dislocation which runs from the summit of Kibo across the
hills on the saddle plateau and the peak of Mawenzi. From the fissure thus
caused the various rocks have flowed as molten masses of lava, and its exist-

LICHENS. 351

ence will be of importance in determining the order in which the different
types have originated. By the kindness of Dr. Meyer the whole of his
magnificent collection has been placed in the mineralogical department of
the Natural History Museum in Berlin. The petrological peculiarities and
the extent to which the strata are developed in different localities will form
the subject of a separate monograph.

III.

ON A COLLECTION OF LICHENS FORMED BY DR. HANS

MEYER DURING THREE EXPEDITIONS TO EAST AFRICA

(1887-89).

By B. STEIX, Breslau.

The collection of lichens formed by Dr. Meyer in the course of his three
expeditions includes 124 species. Of these, 23 come from Usambara and
49 from the steppe region between the coast and Kilimanjaro — an abund-
ance which shows the rich harvest here presented to the student. The
steppes are studded with old single trees and groups of trees, and with these
lichens are invariably associated, so that, as we should expect, the species
characteristic of wood and bark predominate.

The lichens of Kilimanjaro are even more fully represented, yet the
74 species included in Dr. Meyer's collection probably constitute not more
than 10 per cent, of the lichen« to be met with on the mountain. These
examples sei've to show, however, that the same rules apply to the lichens
of Kilimanjaro as to those derived from other volcanic regions. Basalt and
lava are the only rocks which need be taken into account. On both of
these the lichens most widely distributed on the plains are able to main-
tain life at the most extraordinary altitudes, in their typical form, and not
in any way modified to suit their alpine situation. The best-known illus-
tration of this phenomenon occurs at the celebrated vein of basalt in the
" Kleine Schneegrube " among the Silesian Riesengebirge. There, at an alti-
tude of about 4270 feet, while the granite and the superimposed layer of soil
are covered with lichens of subalpine character, the basalt is mainly clad
with the forms typical of the plains — common species exactly similar to
those of the Silesian lowlands. Intermingled with these are a number of
arctic forms and an immense variety of indigenous species. A similar
mingling of forms may be seen on the volcanos of Southern Europe —
Vesuvius and Etna — and on the lavas of Madeira and Teneriffe.

Nor is it otherwise on Kilimanjaro. Of the 74 species included in
Dr. Meyer's collection, 25 belong to the forms characteristic of the plains,
and on Kilimanjaro, at an elevation of from ten to sixteen thousand feet,

352 APPENDIX.

appear in the guise familiar to us on the plains of Northern Germany
Only twelve common tropical species are represented, and these are derived
mostly from the forest zone. Fifteen arctic-alpine species are known to
occur on the mountain, to which may be added the subalpine species
Usnea cornuta (absent in the polar regions) and PaiTnelia Kandschadalis
(absent in the Alps). The only typical Cape forms are Parmelia suhcon-
spersa and P. moUmscnla, but many of the other widely distributed species
also occur at the Cape. Stereocaulon Vesuvianum and perhaps Buellia
trachytica are chai-acteristic Kilimanjaro lichens which are also found on
the volcanic rocks of Vesuvius, and Stereocaulon Meyeri is nearly allied
to the various species of Stereocaitlon common on the volcanoes of the Canary
Islands. The lichens of Kilimanjaro thus include representative forms
from all parts of the world. Further research may add new species to those
already known, but the knowledge we possess of the general chai-acteristics
of this branch of the flora can scarcely be materially altered.

The number of new species which I have felt compelled to assign to
Kilimanjaro and the neighbourhood may be a matter of some surprise.
There are ten in all : —

Stereocaulon Meyeri.

PtAMALixA Meyeri.

Parmelia molliuscula var. Kilimaxjaroensis,

Gyrophora umbilicarioides.

Lenormaxdia Grimmiaxa.

Placodium melaxophthalmum var. Africanum.

RiNODINA PuRTSCHELLERI.

Urceolaria Steifexsaxdii,
Lecidella atrobruxxea forma mixor.

L. KiLiAiAXJAROEXSis, to which may be added TJsxea dasypo-
GoiDES var. exasperata Müll. Arg.

This number might have been considerably increased, for many of the
specimens were characterised by minute distinctions. The list of lichens
peculiar to Kilimanjaro will probably be diminished in the future, as new
species are discovered in the alpine regions of other volcanic peaks ; but, on
the other hand, it is certain to be added to, as fresh indigenous species crop
up in the collections of future explorers of Kilimanjaro. In justice to myself
I ought to state that in many instances I have been compelled to found my
classification on single specimens, some of which were extremely small. It is
therefore necessarily .somewhat arbitraiy, and may be even altogether incorrect
characteristics being regarded as specific and essential which in reality are
accidental. Relying on the future observations of others to rectify such
errors as I may have made, I thought it better to utilise even the smallest
specimen in drawing up the following list, rather than set it aside in the
hope that it would be more largely represented in subsequent collections.

LICHENS. 353

My greatest difficulties in this respect have been in connection with the
lichens derived from the bark of the trees on the steppes. Twigs no thicker
than a quill, and only an inch or two in length, often exhibited as many as
half a dozen different species.

The collection includes scarcely any representatives of the lichens to be
found on soil in the Kilimanjaro region, the surface of which would be
sure to afford a number of intei-esting specimens. A region that has pro-
duced Lenormajidia Grimmiana and Urceolaria Steifensandii cannot but yield
many other natural curiosities, whose acquaintance, it is to be hoped, we
shall soon be able to make.

In the following list, the figures i, 2, 3, placed after the locality from
which the specimens have been derived, indicate on which of Dr. Meyer's
journeys the latter were obtained, (i) indicates Dr. Meyer's first ascent of
Kilimanjaro in July 1887 ; (2) his Usambara journey in August and Sep-
tember 1888; (3) his residence on the mountain from September to Novem-
ber 1889. The species marked with an asterisk, thus *, are new.

The collections made during the first two journeys I have already described
in the Proceedings for 1888 of the Schlesische Gesellschaft für vaterländische
Kultur in Breslau, in which magazine the description of the new species will
shortly appear.

In the compilation of the list I have availed myself of the corrections
and alterations of names supplied by Professor J. Müller in Lichenes Afric(e
tropico-orientalis, 1890, Flora, vol iv.

1. Usnea longissima Ach. South Usambara, Hundu, 2. Filaments over
a yard long ; exactly corresponding to European variety.

*U. longissima f. Ebersteini, SteiJi. Wooded steppes between Rabai
and Taro ; not numerous, i.

2. U. trichodea Ach. South Usambara, 2.

3. U. angulata Ach. South Usambara, 2. Filaments long, beardlike ;
fructifications scanty. Between Moadje and Moji, on old trees, not rare, 3 ;
f. ferruginea Krplh. South Usambara, 2.

4. *U. dasypogoides Nyl. var. exasperata Müll. Arg. Kilimanjaro 9850
feet, 3. Specimen fully a yard long ; whitish yellow ; sterile.

5. U. articulata Ach. Kilimanjai-o, i, 3. Above 9850 feet; numerous;
in the grass-lands between 9850 feet and 13,000 feet, on shrubs; f. gracilis,
on arborescent heaths at 13,000 feet; f. erecta, upper limit of forest*; f.
erubescens, with yellowish red folia (a colour often met with in African
Usneae) ; appears on young shoots between mosses in the upper grass-
lands at 13,000 feet ; as a variety with long filaments at the upper limit of
the forest (9850 feet) ; as a blackish variety (not unlike Bryopogon hicolor) on
the surface of the ground in the grass-lands (13,000 feet).

6. U. aspera Eschic. South Usambara, 2. Old trees in Moji and the
Ugweno mountains ; not rare, 3 ; only sterile specimens collected.

354 APPENDIX.

7. U. strigosa Ach. Wooded steppes l>etween Eabai and Taro ; numerous,
I. South Usambara, 2. Between Samburu and Taveta, on old trees
(mimosse), numerous ; also in Moji, and between Moadje and Moji, 3 ;
fructification abundant.

8. U. comuta Khr. On stones at upper limit of forest and in g^ass-land ;
9850-13,000 feet, I ; var. densirostra (Tayl.) Müll. Anj. (var. Weyeri Stein).
On stones in upper gi-ass-land ; 14,000 feet, i, 3.

9. Cladonia verticillata Hoffm. One small specimen from Kilimanjaro ;
9850 feet, 3.

10. C. pyxidata L. var. neglecta Flke. Kilimanjaro; old trees; 9850
feet, 3.

11. C. crispata Flat. var. subsimplex Müll. Anj. Extremely small
specimens from upper limit of forest ; 9850 feet.

12. C. Floerkeana Fr. Kilimanjaro; forest; 5900-15,000 feet; appa-
rently widespread, 3 ; var. intermedia Hepp. f. melanocarpa Müll. Arg.
Upper limit of forest; 9850 feet. A specimen, the reproductive spores
of which had become black in drying, I took to be C. isidioclada Mtg.

13. Cladina peltasta (Spreng.) Nijl. Kilimanjaro; forest; 5900-15,000
feet, 3.

14. *Stereocaulon Meyeri Stein. Kilimanjaro; on lava blocks; 9850-
16,500 feet, I, 3 ; specimens of 1887 sterile, of 1889 fertile. Stereocaulon
Meyeri approaches most nearly to the American species S. strictum Th. Fr.
and S. Vulcani Bory of the Mauritius, but is different from both. Th.
Fries, author of the monograph on Stereocaulon, to whom I showed a
specimen, described S. Meyeri as "optima species nova," so that I feel
justified in retaining the name, although Müller is of opinion that the
species should be included under S. ramulosum. In the latter, however, the
spores are much broader.

15. Stereocaulon Vesuvianum Pers. var. confluens Müll. Arg. (as species)
(var. Kilimanjaroense Stein). (Jahresbericht der Schlesischen Gesellschaft,
1888.) On lava blocks at the Senecio (9850 feet) and on the gi-ass-lands
(13,000 feet), I, 3.

16. *Ramalina polymorpha Ach. v. Meyeri Stein (as species). (Jahres-
bericht, 1888.) Kilimanjaro; on stones ; 13,800 feet, i.

17. R. Eckloni Sprgl. var. membranacea Müll. Arg. (laevigata, Jahres-
bericht, 1888). South Usambara; on trees; a single specimen, 2.

18. R. complanata J.c7<. var. denticulata Müll. Arg. var. canaliculata Nijl.
et var. fallax Müll. Arg. (R. rigida Pers. var. africana Stein. Jahresbericht,
1888). Three localities in Usambara and from Tumakanya; widespread;
on trees, 2 ; on trees, living and dead, in Ugweno, between Moji and
Marangu, Moji and Moadje, and Samburu and Taveta ; evidently widely
spread, 3.

19. R. calicaris Ach. var. subpapillosa Syl. Between Matate and
Taveta, 3.

LICHENS.' 355

20. *R. pusilla Le Preo. var, Meyeri Stein, 1888. R. pusiola il/i/7?. ^J^.,
1890. South Usambara and Tumakanya ; on trees; apparently widely
spread, 2 ; between Matate and Taveta, 3.

21. Tornabenia flavicans Z)(7. on trees; Tumakanya, Usambara, 2 ; between
Matate and Taveta ; on tree trunks in the steppes and in Ugweno, 3 ; f.
cinerascens; folia ashy-gi^ey ; Usambara, 2, and Ugweno, 3. One of the
most common and widely spread lichens in the region ; mostly occurs in
large patches.

22. Sticta retigera Ach. et var. isidiosa Müll. Kilimanjaro; on trees;
forest; 5900-9850 feet, 3.

23. S. Garovaglii Schaer. Kilimanjaro ; forest ; 5900-9850 feet, 3 ; on
trees ; one example ; sterile.

24. Stictina umbilicariformis ^t)c7?6'^. Kilimanjaro; on trees ; 9850 feet.

25. Parmelia latissima i^ee. Kilimanjaro; on mossy rocks and old tree
trunks; 5900-14,800 feet ; numerous but sterile, i, 3 ; Ugweno, 3. Between
Matate and Moji, and between Moji and Marangu, 3 ; South Usambara, 2.
Principally f. sorediata Nt/l.

26. P. perforata L. South Usambara, 2 ; wooded steppes between Rabai
and Taro ; widely distributed at 9200 feet, i. Between Moadje and
Moji, 3.

27. P. perlata Ach. Ugweno, 3. Kilimanjaro, 5900-9850 feet, 3.

28. P. proboscidea Tayl. On mimosse in the steppes, 3.

29. P. abessinica Krplh. South Usambara, 2 ; between Moji and
Marangu, 3.

30. P. urceolata Eschtv. Ugweno, 3 ; between Matate and Taveta ; 3. v.
nuda 3IÜU. (P. Hildebrandtii Krplh.), between Samburu and Taveta, 3.

31. P. Schweinfurthii il/w/Z. J.r^. .? Kilimanjaro ; forest, 3 ; a single rust-
coloured, sterile specimen.

32. P. tiliacea ^c/i. var. scortea Nyl. (var. eximia Stein) (Jahresbericht,
1 888). A beautiful light whitish-grey variety, powdered with brown. South
Usambara, 2.

33. P. praetervisa Müll. Arg. (P. revoluta v. ambigua Stein). On old
trees in Moji ; not rare. South Usambara, 2.

34. P. cai"porhizans Tayl. On trees in the steppes between Taita and
Taveta, 3.

35. P. Borreri Turn. var. rudecta Ach. Kilimanjaro; on trees ; 5900-
9850 feet, 3.

36. P. sinuosa Sm. Wooded steppes between Rabai and Taro, i.

37. P. saxatilis L. Kilimanjaro; on trees at the upper limit of the
forest; 9850 feet; between patches of Stereocaulon, 14,800 feet, i; fertile;
on mossy rocks at the same altitude, 3.

38. P. physodes L. Kilimanjaro ; on an arborescent heath ; 9850 feet, i.

39. P. Kamtschadalis Eschiv. var. fistulata Tayl. Kilimanjaro; at the
bottom of old tree-trunks between 5900 and 9850 feet.

356 APPENDIX.

40. P. molliuscula ^c7/. Kilimanjaro; between 9850 and 18,000 feet ; on
rocks and stony ground; widely spread, but apparently always sterile, 1, 3.
Three main varieties,

a typica.

ß robusta.
*y kilimanjaroensis,
a and /3 appear to be regularly distributed between 9850 and 13,000 feet;
the alpine var. y first appears on basalt and lavas above 15,750 feet. Between
the three varieties there are transitional forms of every imaginable kind.

41. P. conspersa Ehrh. On quartz at the summit of Gamualla, 6550
feet ; one small specimen, 3 ; var. subconspersa Nyl. (as species) Kilimanjaro ;
on rocks between 9850 and 15,750 feet, 3.

42. P. caperata Dill. Kilimanjaro ; on trees at the upper limit of forest ;
9850 feet, I.

43. P. fahlunensis L. Kilimanjaro ; on blocks of basalt and lava. A
single sterile specimen from the south of Mawenzi, 14,750 feet, 3.

44. Physica (Anaptychia) leucomelas Ach. Ugweno, and on old trees
near Moji, 3 ; var. angustifolia Mey. et Flot. South Usambara, 2 ; Kili-
manjaro ; upper limit of forest; on tree-trunks between 9850 and 11,500
feet, i; and on mossy rocks, in large, extremely fertile patches, at 14,750
feet, 3.

45. Ph. (Anaptychia) subcomosa {Nyl.). On old trees; between Taveta
and Samburu, 3 ; in a variety of forms.

46. Ph. h}-poleuca Ach. Tumakanya, 2.

47. Ph. speciosa Wulf. On old trees between Moadje and Moji, 3.

48. Ph. picta Sic. On mimosse between Moadje and Moji, 3 ; Kilima-
njaro ; upper limit of forest; 9850 feet, i, 3; var. sorediata Schaer ; on old
trees between Moadje and Moji, 3.

49. Ph. erythrocardia Tuck. (Ph. picta var. coccinea Müll.). On old trees
between Moadje and Moji, 3 ; Kilimanjaro, i ; two steiile specimens from
the tree steppes and the vipper limit of the forest.

50. Pyxine Cocoes Sw. On the thallus and fruits of Parmelia urceolata ;
between Samburu and Taveta ; numerous young, sterile specimens, 3 ; on
old trees between Taveta and Moji, 3.

51. Peltigera canina L. var. membranacea .4 c7i. Kilimanjaro; forest; in
.several mossy spots between 5900 and 13,000; in the higher altitudes also
fertile, 3.

52. P. spm-ia DC. Kilimanjaro; on humus soil at upper limit of trees;
11,500 feet, I.

53. *Gyrophora umbilicarioides Stein (Jahresbericht, 1 888). Kilimanjaro ;
on stones in the upper grass-lands; 13,000 feet, 1 ; to the south of Mawenzi
from 14,750 feet upwards, and on Kibo up to the ice-cap, 3.

54. *Lenormandia Grimmiana Stein, n. spec. Kilimanjaro; on humus
soil and decaying vegetation, 13,000 feet, 3. Although the single specimen

LICHENS. 357

is very small, its peculiarities are so marked as to justify its being classed as
a new species.

55. Pannaria pannosa aw;. Kilimanjaro; on tree-trunks between 5900
and 9850 feet, 3.

56. Gasparrinia elegans (Lie). Kilimanjaro; in 1887 a single specimen
found on a lava block at 18,050 feet; in 1889 found on Mawenzi from
14,450 feet upwards to the summit; on Kibo between 14,450 feet and
19,700 feet — flourishing and fertile on the very summit of the mountain.
The Kilimanjaro lichen has the same beautiful orange-red colour as in the
Alps and in the Arctic regions.

57. Acarospora fuscata Turn. var. smaragdula Whg. Kilimanjaro, at
a lava block on the Mu6, 9350 feet.

58. Gyalolechia epixantha Ach. (G. subsimilis Th. Fr.). Kilimanjaro;
16,400 feet; encrusting mosses, i; on the under surface of lava blocks
on Mawenzi; 15,000 feet, 3.

59. *Placodium melanophthalmum Ram. var. africanum Stein. Kili-
manjaro; on the west side of Mawenzi, from 15,000 feet to the summit;
widely distributed between 15,000 and 16,000 feet, 3.

60. Candelaria vitellina Ehrh. Kilimanjaro, south and west of Mawenzi,
between 14,750 and 16,000 feet, 3.

61. Callopisma aurantiacum Lghtf. var. corticicolum. On mimosse
between Moadje and Moji, 3.

62. C. ferrugineum Huds. var. saxicolum Mass. Kilimanjaro ; lava
blocks on Mawenzi, 15,000 feet, 3; var. obscurum Th. Fr. Kilimanjaro;
lava blocks south of Mawenzi, 14,750 feet; on basalt on Kibo from 11,950
feet to the ice, 3.

63. *Rinodina Purtschelleri Stein, nov. spec. Ugweno mountains ; on
quartz rocks at the summit of Gamualla, 6560 feet. The fourth lichen
bearing a resemblance to Rhizocarpon geographicum (Catocarpus chiono-
philus, Buellia effigurata, Buellia austrogeorgica), but the fii-st Lecanora
lichen of this type.

64. R. trachytica Mass. Kilimanjaro; probably widely distributed on
lava blocks in sunny situations; on Mawenzi from 15,000 feet upwards;
on Kibo from 11,800 feet to the ice.

65. R. metabolica Anzi. On mimosse twigs between Samburu and
Taveta, 3.

66. Lecanora subfusca L. var. coilocarpa Ach. South Usambara, 2.
On mimosae between Moadje and Moji, and between Moji and Marangu, 3 ;
Kilimanjaro, on trees at the upper limit of the forest, 9850 feet, i ; var.
lainea Fr. Kilimanjaro, on lava at the western base of Mawenzi, 14,750
feet, 3.

67. L. cinereocarnea Eschw. The most widely distributed bark Lecanora
of the region ; on mimosse between Moji and Marangu, and between Moadje
and Moji, 3.

358 APPENDIX.

68. L. pallida Schreh. var. sordidescens Pers. On trees between Matate
and Taveta, 3.

69. L. Hageni Ach. var. nigrescens Tli. Fr. Kilim.anjaro ; on lava
blocks at western base of Mawenzi, 15,000 feet, 3; var. lithophila Wallr.,
on lavas and basalts in same locality.

70. L. poliophaea Wbg. ? A single fruit found on Mawenzi at an alti-
tude of 16,100 feet, on a fragment of folia about | qcm. in size, apparently
belongs to this species, but I was unable to determine exactly, 3.

71. L. lielva Stizenberger. On trees between Moadje and Moji, 3.

72. L. varia Ehrli. On trees between Moadje and Moji, 3.

73. L. polytropa Ehrh. Kilimanjaro; lava blocks on Mawenzi, 15,000
feet, 3.

74. Aspicilia cinereorufescens Ac7i. Kilimanjaro ; basalt blocks on
Mawenzi, 15,000 feet, 3; var. diamarta ^c/«. On lava of Mawenzi, 16,000
feet.

75. A. complanata Kb)'. Kilimanjaro; lavas of Mawenzi from 14,750
feet upwards.

76. *Urceolaria Steif ensandii Stem (Jahresbericht, 1888). TJ. scruposa
L. var. cinereo-caesia Müll. Arg. Kilimanjaro ; turfy ground of the upper
grass-lands, 13,000 feet; on Kibo at 15,750 feet, 3.

77. U. scruposa L. var. bryophila Ehrh. Kilimanjaro; on fragments
of moss at 14,000 feet, 3.

78. Haematomma puniceum Ach. On old trees between Moadje and
Moji, and between Mwika and Taveta, 3.

79. Pertusaria corallina Z. Kilimanjaro; a single sterile specimen from
basalt at the Kifinika stream, 8500 feet, 3.

80. P. communis DC. f. areolata Ach. Sterile crusts on Kilimanjaro,
14,750 feet; and on quartz at the summit of Gamualla, 6550 feet, 3.

8r. P. meialewca. Duhy. On dead branches ; between Moadje and Moji, 3.

82. P. leioplacoides Müll. On mimosa stems ; between Rabai and Moji, 3.

83. P. Iqwco^qs KnigJd ? Kilimanjaro; on branches in the tree-steppes
between Rabai and Taro, i. The specimen agrees fairly well with the New
Zealand variety.

A sterile Pertusaria (?) thallus, of a whitish-grey colour, which is not
altered by alkalies, was found on lava blocks at the Mue at an altitude of
9500 feet, 3.

84. Thelocarpon spec. TJgweno mountains; summit of Gamualla, 6550
feet ; numerous on thalli of Pertusaria communis and Lecidella lapicida ;
perhaps identical with Th. epithallinum Nyl.

85. Bacidia endoleucoides Krplh. On old trees between Moadje and
Moji, and between Moji and Marangu, 3.

86. Biatora coarctata Sm. Ugweno mountains ; on quartz at the summit
of Gamualla; 6550 feet, 3.

87. B. erythrophaea FUce. On mimosse between Moji and Marangu, 3.

LICHENS. 359

88. *Bümbyliospora Meyeri AS^ej« (Jahresbericht, iSS8). Patellar! Meyeri
JlJäll. Arg. On barks in Hundu, Usambai-a, 2.

89. *Lecidella atrobrunnea Ram. f. minor thalli areolae minutae leproso
albo-marginatae. Kilimanjaro; on lavas of Mawenzi up to 16,400 feet, 3.

90. L. Mosigii Hej>p. Kilimanjaro; on lavas of Kibo up to 16,400
feet, 3.

91. *L. Kilimanjaroensis Stem, 11. sp. Kilimanjaro; on lavas of Mawenzi,
15,000 feet, 3

Externally resembles Lecidea fuscocinerea Nyl. and many forms of
Biatora uliginosa.

92. L. lapicida Acli. Ugweno mountains; on quartz at summit of
Gamualla; 6550 feet, 3.

93. L. pungens Khr. Ugweno mountains ; on quartz at summit of
Gamualla; 6550 feet, 3.

94. L. latypea Ach. Kilimanjaro ; lavas on the south of Mawenzi ;
14,750-16,000 feet; var. aequata Flke. and var. pulverulenta Tli,. Fr. ; same
locality, 3.

95. Diplotomma alboatrum ZiTo/m. Kilimanjaro; lavas of Kibo, 18,370
feet; Mawenzi, 15,000 feet, 3.

96. Catocarpus chionophilus 21i. Fr. Kilimanjaro ; basalt of Kibo up to
16,400 feet, 3.

97. E-hizocarpon geographicum L. f. contiguum i^?\ Kilimanjaro; lavas
of Mawenzi, from 14,750 feet to the summit; on Kibo from 11,800 feet to
the summit ; apparently very widely spread.

98. R. Montagnei Fio. Kilimanjaro; lava of Mawenzi up to 15,000
feet, 3. In the specimen the thecae were two-celled ; plant therefore to
be classed with f. geminatum Fid.

99. Buellia spuria Schaer. ß minutula Hej^p. Kilimanjaro; lavas of
Mawenzi from 14,750 feet upwards. Ugweno mountains; summit of
Gamualla, 6550 feet, 3.

1 00. B. lecidina Fio. Kilimanjaro ; lavas at western base of Mawenzi,
15,000 feet, 3.

IGT. B. cinereo-cincta Müll. Arg. On mimosse between Matate and
Taveta, 3.

102. B. parasema Ach, var. vulgata Th. Fr. Branches of mimosas
between Moadje and Moji, 3.

103. Celidium stictarum Tul. Kilimanjaro; on Sticta retigera, between
5900 and 9850 feet, 3.

104. *Helminthocarpon Meyeri (Stein) Müll. Arg. (Phlyctis Meyeri Stein,
1888). On a twig at Tumakanya, 2.

105. Opegrapha Bonplandi Fee, var. abbreviate Mull. South Usam-
bara ; on barks, 2.

106. Graphis lineola Ach. On twigs in South Usambara, 2. On mimosae
twigs between Moadje and Moji, 3.

36o APPENDIX.

107. G. subimmersa Mass. On trees between Moadje and Moji, 3.

108. G. conferta Zenl: ? On mimosse between Moadje and Moji, 3.

109. Phaeograpbina caesiopruinosa F^e. Tree-steppes between Rabni
and Taro, i. On mimosse between Matate and Taveta, 3 ; var. bispora
Thecse always two-spored. On mimosse twigs between Moadje and Moji, 3.

1 1 o. Graphina eurta Fee ? On barks between Samburu and Taveta ; a
single imperfect specimen, 3.

111. G. (Clilorogi-aphis Miill. Ai'g.) spec. On branches of tree-steppes
between Rabai and Taro, i.

112. Arthonia Antillarum Fee. On mimosse between Moadje and

Moji, 3. . ■ ..

113. A. serialis Müll. On mimosfe twigs between Moadje and Moji, 3.

114. Melaspilea cicatrisans Ach. ? On banks in forest region of Kilima-
njaro, 3. The dwarfish fruits, and the size and shape of the spores, appear
to agree pretty closely with the South American species ; but the specimen
was too small to form an exact opinion.

115. "*M. coccinea Stein, n. sjy. On branches of old trees between Moadje
and Moji, 3.

The remarkable characteristic of this species is the bright red powder
on the edges of the fruit, from which I feel justified in classif3-ing it as new,
although I had only a single specimen.

116. Glyphis favulosa Ach. ß intermedia Müll. Arg. On branches in
the tree-steppes between Rabai and Taro, i.

117. Arthothelium macrotheca Fee. On dead trees between Taita and
Taveta, 3.

118. Anthracothecium pyrenuloides Mull. Arg.? Kilimanjaro; a few
fruits on a twig, from an altitude of 11,500 feet, 3. From the variable size
of the fruits, possibl}' to be regarded as new,

119. Arthopyrenia Persoonii Mass. f. minuta. On a smooth-barked species
of mimosae between Moji and Mawenzi, 3. Perhaps also new.

120. Melanotheca cruenta (Mtgne.) Müll. Arg. (Pyrenula Gravenrevithii,
Stein, Jahresbericht, 1888), Kilimanjaro; and on young branches on the
tree-steppes between Rabai and Taro, i. Not very numerous.

121. Tichothecium pygmaeum Kbr. var. microcarpum Arnold. Kilima-
njai'o; on the folia and fi-uits of Gasparrinia elegans ; 17,700 feet, 3.

122. T. gemmiferum Tayl. Kilimanjaro; on the crustaceous thallus of
Buellia spuria; south of Mawenzi, 15,000 feet, 3.

123. Leptogium tremelloides (Fr.). South Usambara, on barks, 2;
forest region of Kilimanjaro, between 5900 and 9850 feet, 3.

124. Synechoblastus Robillardi Muell. Arg. South Usambara, on barks,
2 ; between Moadje and Moji, 3.

MOSSES. 361

IV.

THE MOSSES OF THE KILIMANJARO REGIOK

By Dr. CARL MÜLLER, Halle.

It is now four years since the first examples of the mosses of the African
Mont Elanc arrived in this country. In 1886 the collection made by the
late Bishop Hannington between Mombaza and Kilimanjaro was submitted
to Mr. William Mitten of Hurstpierpoint, who found that it included thirty-
eight species. As far as it went, the collection was a noteworthy contribution
to science, for the distribution of the mosses and other cryptogams is of
great importance in relation to the geographical distribution of plants in
general. These plants have never been cultivated, and therefore, like the
higher orders, they are more likely to be met with in their original habitat,
and thus form an index to the natural character of the flora of the region —
and not only an index, but a means of comparing the various botanical
regions one with another. Viewed from this standpoint, Hannington 's suc-
cessor. Dr. Hans Meyer, has rendered the scientific world no small service
in bringing back with him from his two splendidly successful journeys to the
mountain the collection of mosses which has just been submitted to me.
This collection derives additional importance from the fact that it comprises
mainly species from above the forest zone, where the vegetation assumes an
alpine character, and we are thus enabled to compare the alpine mosses of
Kilimanjaro with those of other alpine regions.

Dr. Meyer's first collection included twenty-five new species, nearly all
alpine. Inspired by this success, he and his companion, Herr Ludwig Purt-
scheller, on their journey of 1889, devoted particular attention to the mosses,
and with the most gratifying results. The second collection is not only
fuller than the first, but it again includes a large number of new species,
from which it appears that the mosses on the other side of the mountain are
totally different from those on the side first explored. The new species
number thirty-three.

A further important addition to our knowledge of this division of the
vegetable kingdom was conti-ibuted by Count Teleki and Von Hohnel on
their expedition to the Kilimanjaro region in 1887. The collection made by
Von Hohnel I had the pleasure of examining on his return. It comprised
not only specimens from Kilimanjaro, but also from Kenia and the foot of
the Aberdare range in Lykipia. Setting the latter aside as apart from the
region at present in question, I found that Von Hohnel had discovered
II new species, which, with the 58 contributed by Dr. Meyer, makes a sum
total of 69. Bishop Hannington had already made us acquainted with 38,
so that there are now 107 species altogether, known as occurring on Kili-

362 APPENDIX.

manjaro. For certain reasons, however, I am inclined to regard 24 out of
the 38 species discovered by Hannington as doubtful ; but even omitting
these, we have still 93 about which there can be no doubt whatever — a
number quite sufficient to enable us to gain a fairly accurate idea of the
distribution of these plants on the mountain.

The first zone, as including the forest, may be said to be entirely tropical ;
it extends upwards to a height of 9850 feet. Here the mosses are of the
type familiar to us as accompanying the tropical trees of all lands. They
approach those of Madagascar on the one hand, and the subtropical forms
of the Cape on the other, without being exactly simuar to either. Above
9850 feet thei'e is a boundless extent of grass-land ; and here, as we gi-adually
ascend, the cryptogamous vegetation more and more loses its tropical aspect,
and assumes the characteristics of temperate, and even arctic zones. Here
we meet with types common to the higher altitudes of our own mountain
peaks : Andrecea, Distichium, Polytriclmm, Campijlopus, Scojjella, Rhodo-
hryum, Euhryum, Argyrohryum, Senodictyum, Sclerodidyum, Philonotis,
Euhartramia, Syntrichia, Anoectangium, Hedwig la, Uluzygodon, Eugrimmia,
and Bracythecium. Between these two extremes is an intermediate zone,
where we are to some extent reminded of the forms to be met with on the
higher mountains of Mascarenhas. Here occur types resembling Leucoloma,
Leptostomopsis, Philonotula, Plicatella, Leptodontiwn, Braunia and Ptero-
gonium.

But while on the upper regions of Kilimanjaro we thus meet with such
types as might be expected from analogy with corresponding altitudes in
other lands, it is to be remembered that entire species are peculiar, or assume
the characteristics of species totally different. Thus Campylopus procerus
was found at an altitude of 9850-15,750 feet, and bore the most deceptive
resemblance to CampylopiLS altisiiimus (0. Müll.), from the alpine regions of
Paramos Antioquas (United States of Columbia, South America). It is
certainly most remarkable that this moss should continue to flourish up to
such an unusual height, but it is not unlikely that the further exploration of
Kilimanjaro may afford other examples of the same phenomenon. On the
other hand, many species which externally bear an extraordinary resem-
blance to many widely distributed alpine types, are found, on closer examina-
tion, to differ materially in structure. Thus Br yum ellipsifolimn apparently
closely resembles our European species Bryum argenteum ; but while, in the
latter, the leaves are hairy and acute, in the former they are obtuse and
arranged in whorls, peculiarities which completely distinguish it from Argy-
rohryum. Another interesting case is that of a Funaria which flourishes on
Kilimanjaro between 4900 and 9850 feet. Externall}^ it is exactly similar
to the European variety Funaria hygronietrica, but it differs from the latter
in its cellular structure, so that I have felt bound to classify it as a distinct
species, Funaria Kilimanjarica. Examples might easily be multiplied.
Thus Andrceea, Distichium, Grimmia, and other types all recall our European

MOSSES. 363

mountain species, but they are found mingling with others characteristic of
tropical mountain regions.

Taking the mosses of Kilimanjaro as a whole, then, we see that in this
respect the flora of the mountain is much like that of other tropical alpine
regions, comprising, as it does, many European types under a tropical dis-
gviise, and others characteristically tropical and peculiar to the district.
There is no moss on Kilimanjaro which attains a development in keeping
with the vast size of the mountain ; even the longest — Polytriclium Hölmeli —
once more recalls such a European form as Polytricliwn juniperinum, Kili-
manjaro has nothing to show equal to the Spiridens species of the mountains
of the South Sea Islands, New Guinea, and the Malay and Philippine
Islands ; or the Daivsonia siqjerba of Australia ; or the arborescent Dendro-
ligotriclmm of New Zealand, Chile, and Terra del Fuego. Had it been
otherwise, such remarkable forms could scarcely have escaped the observation
of the various travellers who have visited the district. It is frequently to
the European types that we have to look for the strange and wonderful ; and
here, as in the highest altitudes of the Alps, we find such species as Bnjum
hicolor occurring between 9850 and 15,750 feet in a form of Lilliputian
minuteness which in its way is as remarkable as the gigantic species alluded
to above. The universal geographical law that the higher we ascend the
more dwarfed and scanty becomes the vegetation, applies to the mosses of
Kilimanjaro as to those elsewhere — the more so that here they subsist on
bare earth and rocks. Within the forest zone they attain their greatest
luxuriance, many species, as in other tropical forests, appearing as long
"beards" hanging from the branches. As in Europe, these "beards" are
either composed of species resembling Neckera (Distichia platyantha) or of
a confused web of long delicate many-branching stems (Orthostichella imhri-
cafula), in the interstices of which a whole army of other mosses find a
congenial habitat.

We have alluded to certain points in which the mosses of Kilimanjaro re-
semble those of other tropical alpine regions, and also shown in what respects
they may be said to be deficient. It now only remains to refer to the forms
which are confined to this mountain alone. Dr. Meyer has brought back
at least one moss, the discovery of which ought to rank as one of his greatest
achievements. There is nothing specially remarkable about the plant itself ;
not one of the specimens bore any fruits, and the tiny patches reminded me
of a delicate green mould more than anything else. Yet this moss is the
most remarkable of all the species known to exist on the mountain. I have
named it JStpodiojms Kilimanjarica, and classed it with the Cleistocarpce, as
forming at once a new family, genus, and species. For further particulars
as to its structure and development, I must refer the reader to my article in
the botanical magazine Flora, which contains a detailed description of Dr.
Meyer's collection. The names of the different species are systematically
arranged in the following Catalogue : —

364

APPENDIX.

Catalogue of the Mosses included in Dr. Meyer's Collection,
(Neto species marked with an asterisk [*].)

I. — Cleistocarpae.

Group : Erpodiopsideae.

I. *Erpodiopsis Kilimanjarica C. Müll.

IL — SCHIZOCARPAE,

Group : Ändreaceae.
2. *Andreaea firma C. Müll. \ 3. *Andreaea striata C. Müll.

III. — ACROCARPAE.

1 1.

1 2.

14.

15-
16.

Group : Fissidenteae.

*Fissidens caloglottis C. Müll.
— undifolius C. Müll.

Group : Distichiaceae.

*Distichium Kilimanjaricum C.

Müll.

Group : Funariaceae.
^Funaria Elilimanjarica C. Müll.

Group : Mniaceae.

*Mnium Kilimanjaricum C. Müll.
Rhizogonium spiniforme Bj^id.

Group : Pohjtrichaceae.

*Polytrichum nano-globulus C.

Müll.
*Polytrichum pun gens C. Müll.

* — Höhneli C. Müll.

Group : Dicrcaiaceae.

*Leucoloma dichotomum Brid.

* — drepanocladium C. Müll.
*Campylopus procerus C. Müll.
— Höhneli C. Müll.

18.

19.

20.

17. — Johannis Meyeri C. Müll.

22.

23-
24.

25-
26.
27.
28.

29.

31-
32.

33-

*Campyloj)us aci'ocaulos C.
Müll.

* — leucochlorus C. Müll.
*Dicranum (Scopella) acantho-

neuron G. Müll.

Group : Bryaceae.
*Ilhodobryum minutirosatum C.
Müll.

* — rosulatulum G. Müll.

* — spathulosifolium C. Müll.
*Leptostomopsis Meruensis G.

Müll.
*Eubryum bicolor G. Müll.

* — nano-torquescens G. Müll.

* — inclusum G. Mull.
*Bracbymenium capitulatum

Mitt.
*Argyrobryum ellipsifolium C.
Müll.

* — argentisetum G. Müll.
*Senodictyum afro-cvudum G.

Müll.
*Apalodictyum minutirete G.

Müll.
*Sclerodiotyum compressulum G.

Müll.

MOSSES.

3^5

34.
35-
36.
37-
38.

39-

40.
41.

42.

43-
44.

45-

46.

47-
48.
49.

5°-

51-

52.

53-

54-
55-
56.

57-

58.

59-
60.

Group : Bartramiaceae.
*Philonotis tricolor C. Müll.

* — gemmascens C. Müll.
*Evibartramia strictula C. Müll.
*Plicatella Kilimanjarica C. Müll.

* — subgnaphalia C. Müll.

Group : Calymperaceae.
Orthotheca aspera Mitt.

Group : Pottiaceae.
*Syntrichia Meruensis C. Müll.
*Senopliyllum pygmaeum C. Müll.
*Leptodontium Johannis Meyeri

C. Müll.

* — pumilum C. Müll.

* — repens C. Müll.
— radicosum Mitt.

Group : Zygodonteae.
*Anoectangium viridatum C.

Mull.
— pusillum Mitt.
* — paucidentatum G. Müll.
*XJlozygodon Kilimanjaricus C.

Müll.
Stenomitrium erosum Mitt.

Group : Orthotrichaceae.
*Orthotrichum serrifolium C.

Müll.
* — undulatifolium C. Müll.

Group : Grimmiaceae.
*Griminia immergens C. Müll.
* — calyculata C. Müll.
* — obtuso-linealis 0. Müll.
* — argyrotricha C. Müll.
* — campylotricha C. Müll.

Group : Brauniaceae.
*Hed\vigia Johannis Meyeri C.

Müll.
*Hedwigidium teres C. Müll.
Braunia Schimperania Bryol.

Eur.

Group : Eri^odiaceae.

61. Erpodium Johannis Meyeri C.

Müll.

Group : Hypopterygiaceae.

62. Rhacopilum Africanum Mitt.

Group : Hooheriaceae.

63. Hookeria (Callicostella) versi-

color Mitt.

Group : Mniadelpliaceae.

64. Daltonia patula Mitt.

Group : Cryphaeaceae.

65. Cryphaea Welwitschii Mitt.

66. * — scariosa C. Müll.

Group : Neckeraceae.

67. *Poroti^ichum subpennaeforme C

Müll.

68. * — ruficaule 0. Müll.

69. * — pterops Eehni.

70. *Distichia platyantha C. Müll.

7 1 . *Pilotrichella chlorothrix 0. Müll.

72. *Orthostichella imbricatula 0.

Müll.

73. * — tenella C. Müll.

74. * — profusicaulis C. Müll.

75. *Eriocladium cymatocheilos Ö.

Müll. ^ '

76. *Papillaria serpentina C. Midi.

77. * — breviculifolia C. Müll.

78. Prionodon Rebmanni Mitt.

79. Calyptothecium Africanum Mitt.

80. Trachypus serrulatus P. B.

81. Leptodon Smithii Mohr.

82. *Pterogonium Kilimanjaricum

C. Müll.

83. *Entodon (Erythrodontium) ro-

tundifolius G. Müll.

Group : Hypnaceae.

84. Anomodon devolutus Mitt.

85. *Microthainnium glabrifolium G.

Müll.

366 APPENDIX.

86. *Cupressina Hühneli C. Müll.

87. *Hyocomiella bartramiophila C.

Mail.

88. *Bracliythecium gloriosum C.

Müll.

89. * — nigro-viride C. Müll.

90. *Tamariscella loricalycina C.

Müll.

9 1 . *Trismegistia tricliocolea C. Müll.

92. *Helicodontiuin subcompressum

a Müll.

93. Rigodium toxarion Mill.

The new species is described in Flora for 1888, No. 27, and 1890,
Part V.

THE LIVERWORTS (HEPATICAE) OF THE KILIMANJARO

REGION.

By F. STEPHAXI, Leipzig.

The plants mentioned below formed part of the collections made by Han-
nington, Dr. Hans Meyer, and Count Teleki, which have already been
alluded to by my friend Dr. Carl Müller in his paper on the " Mosses of
the Kilimanjaro Region." Of these collections, the first is only known to me
from the written description and the illustrations by which it was accompanied.

The total number of liverworts brought to Europe by these travellers com-
prises sixty-two species, most of which were derived from the forest region
midway up the mountain ; twenty-one species have been collected by Dr.
Meyer, of which three are new. As far as my examination goes, very few
liverworts were found among the mosses in the higher zones of the mountain,
whence we can scarcely look for an abundant harvest in the future, as shade
and moisture, the conditions congenial to the life of these delicate plants,
are there generally absent. The more hardy nature of the mosses ensures
them a wider distribution.

As regards the liverworts, the most interesting discovery made by
Dr. Meyer was the existence on Kilimanjaro of our European species
Lunularia crurjata L. Scarcely less interesting is the presence of the
stunted alpine species Plagiochila suhalpina and BazzMiia pulvinata, of
which the latter in the structure of its leaves and under-leaves closely re-
sembles Bazzania decrescens of the Mascarenhas. Most of the species are
closely allied to those of the Mascarenhas and Madagascar, and occasionally
also to those of the Cape.

As among the mosses, certain cosmopolitan species of liverwort occur
here also, such as Chandonanthus hirtellus, Frullania squarrosa, Targionia
hypophylla, Lejeunea flava, and Noteroclada porphyrorUiza ; while two species,
Ptycholejeunea striata and Plagiochila calva, are met with among the flora of
the Sunda Islands.

LIVERWORTS.

3^7

Porella Hoehneliana, one of the plants included in the Teleki collection,
is a quite anomalous form, but seems to be allied to tropical species. A
purely Northern form is Jungermannia minuta, first described by Mitten.

The plants mentioned in the following list I have already described in
Hedicigia, with the exception of the four new species recently furnished by
Dr. Meyer, viz., Bazzania puJvinata, Plagiocldla divergens, Plagiochila Jag-
gana, and Plagiochila suhalpina. These will form the subject of a paper to
be shortly published in the above-mentioned magazine.

Alphabetical List of the Hepaticae of the Region.

[Neio Species marked

Bazzania convexa Tliunh.
* — pulvinata St. n. sj).

— pumila 3Iitt.
Chandonanthus hirtellus (TT'e^.)
Cyathodium africanum Mitt.
Fimbriaria Boryana ? Mont.
Frullania angulata Mitt.

— brunnea Sprengel

— cordata Mitt.

— Ecklonii Spreng.

— squarrosa Nees

— trinervis L. u. L.

— Usagara Mitt.
Herberta dicrana Tayl.
Isotachis Auberti Sclnviigr.
Jungermannia minuta Diclcson
Leioscyphus infuscatus Mitt.
Lejeunea (Aero) emergens Mitt.

— — Pappeana Nees

— (Archi) xanthocarpa L. 7i. L.

— (Cerato) cornuta ? Ldbg.

— (Coluro) digitalis Mitt.

— (Eu) acuta 3Iitt.

— — flava Str.

* — — hepaticola Steph.

— (Lepto) adhaesiva Mitt.

— (Lopho) atra Mitt.

* — - (Micro) africana Steph.

— (Odonto) Hanningtoni Mitt.

— — tortuosa L. w. L. (syn :

lunulata)

— (Ptycho) striata Nees

with an Asterish [*].)

Lejeunea (Strepsi) brevifissa G.
Lepidozia cupressina Ldbg.
Lunularia cruciata L.
Marchantia globosa ? (sterilis)

— n. sp. (sterilis)
Metzgeria furcata L.

* — myriopoda Lindh.
Noteroclada porphyrorhiza

Nees
Plachiochila Bai'teri Mitt.

— calva Nees

* — comorensis Steph.

— dichotoma Web.
* — divergens Steph.
* — Jaggana Steph.

* — Hoehneliana Steph.

— javanica N. 2i. M.

— Lastii Mitt.

— sarmentosa Lehm.

— sinuosa 3Iitt.

— squamulosa 3Iitt.
* — subalpina Steph.
*— Telekiana Steph.

— terebrans Aees
Porella capensis G.

* — Hoehneliana Steph.
Radula appressa 3Iitt.

— Boryana Nees

— mascarena Steph.
* — Meyeri Steph.

* — recurvifolia Stcj^h.
Targionia hypophylla L.

i68

APPENDIX.

VI.

SIPHONOGAMOUS PLANTS COLLECTED BY DK MEYER IN
THE COURSE OF HIS EXPEDITIONS TO KILIMANJARO IN

1887 AND 1889.

By Dr. A. EXGLER, Berlin.

The following catalogue includes the names of the plants collected by Dr.
Hans Meyer in the course of his expeditions to Kilimanjaro in 1887 and
1889. In its compilation I have been assisted by Professor Schweiufurt,
Dr. Schumann, Dr. 0. Hoffmann, Dr. Taubert, and Herr Gurke. The
classification of the ferns has been undertaken by Professor Max, and may
be looked for shortly. The new species (here marked with an asterisk [*]),
and the relations existing between the flora of Kilimanjaro and that of
Abyssinia and of the Cape, will be described elsewhere.

Between Samhuru, and Moji
{November 1889).

Asclepias macrantha Höchst.
Waltheria americana L.
Cassia goratensis Fres.
*Ceropegia Meyeri Johannis Engl,
n. sp.

Steppe Region heticeen Mombaza and
Kilimanjaro
{November and December 1889).
Acacia leucacantha Vatke.

— subalata Vatke
*Boswellia campestris Engl. n. sp.
■""Commiphora campestris Engl. n. sp.
* — Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp.

— Schimperi (Berg) Engl.
Gloriosa virescens Lindl.
Ormocarpum Kirkii S. Moore

Lower Limit of Forest {July 1887).

Sparmannia abyssinica Hockst, var.

Schumanni Engl.
Geranium simense Höchst.
Trifolium semipilosum Fresen.
Crotalaria labiu'nifolia L.

Eriosema cajauoides Hook. f.

*Crotalaria jaggensis Taub. n. sp.

Rhynchosia caribaea DC.

Cassia Kirkii Oliv.

*Tephrosia Meyeri Johannis Taub,

n. sp.
Rubus dictyophyllus Oliv.
Lantana viburnoides Valil.
Pentas longifolia Oliv.
Thunbergia fuscata Tit. Anders.
Pentas purpurea Oliv.
Bidens pilosus L.

Achyrocline Hochstetteri Sch. Bip.
*Echinops Hoehneli Schiceinf. n. sp.
Gomphocarpus fructicosus B. Br.
Achyranthes argentea Lam.
Rumex alismifolius Fresen.
Rhus villosa L. fil.

At the Rua rivulet (6200-7550 feet;
November 1889).

Carduus leptacanthus Fresen.
Helichrysum globosum Sch. Bip.
*Celsia brevipedicellata Engl. n. s/j.
Halleria abyssinica Jaub. et Spach.
Conyza Newii Oliv, et Hiern.

SIPHOXOGAMOUS PLANTS.

369

Tlialictrum rhynchocarpum Dili, et

liicJi.
■^Trifolium kilimanjaricum Taub.

n. sp.
Parochetus communis Havi.
*Crotalaria kilimanjarica Taub. n. sp.
Rumex abyssinicus Jacq. var. Kili-

manjari Engl.
Ipomaea involucrata P. Beauv.
Desmodium Scalpe DC.
Adenocarpus Mannii Hook. f.
*Begonia Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp.
Brayera anthelmintica Kunth.

Behceen Mavangu and Camp at the

Mue (4900-9500 feet; November

1889).
Helichrysum abyssinicum Sell. Bip.
Thalictrum rynchocarpum Dill, et

Rich.
Dierama pendula Eakey.
Helichrysum Kilimanjari Oliv.
*Blaeria Meyeii Johannis Engl. 11. sp.
*Helichrysum Meyeri Johannis Engl.

n. sp.
Ericinella Mannii Hook. f.
Erica arborea L.

In and above the Forest (5900-9850

feet; November 1889).
*Dolichos maranguensis Taub. n. sp.
Justicia palustris Th. Anders.
Justicia neglecta Th. Anders.
Achyrocline Höchste tteri Sch. Bip.
Erica arborea L.
Ipomaea involucrata P. Beauv.
*Orobanche kilimanjarica Engl. n. sp.
*Pupalia affinis K. Schum. n. sp.
Euphorbia monticola Höchst.
Sporobolus in die us R. Br.
Tricholaena Teneriffae Purl.
Sanicula europaea L.
*Cluytia kilimanjarica Engl. n. sp.
Agauria salicifolia Hook. f. var. la-
tissima Ejigl.

Senecio Johnstoni Oliv.
*Helichrysum Guilelmi Engl. n. sp.
Caylusia abyssinica Fisch, et Meg.
Halleria abyssinica Jaub. et Spach.
Brayera anthelmintica Kunth.
■^Nuxia glutinosa Engl.
Artemisia afra Jacq.
Cynoglossum micranthum Desf.
Combretum racemosum P. Beauv.
*Myrica Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp.
Dierama pendula Baker.
*Blaeria silvatica Engl. n. sp.
Lantana viburnoides Vahl.
Hebenstreitia dentata L.
*Bartsia Purtschelleri Engl. n. sp.
Helichrysum Kilimanjari Oliv.
Senecio discifolius Oliv.
Ageratum conyzoides L.
*Helichrysum Meyeri Johannis Engl.
Ranvmculus oreophytus Delile.
Hypericvim lanceolatum Lam.
Albizzia maranguensis Tauh. n. sp.
*Peponia kilimanjarica Cogn. n. sp.

Upper Limit of Forest
(9100-9850 feet ; July 1887).

Drymaria cordata Willd.
Hypericum lanceolatum Lam.
Trifolium Johnstoni Oliv.
Pseudarthria Hookeri W. et A.
Desmodium Scalpe DC.
Crassula abyssinica A. Rich.
Asystasia gangetica Th. Anders.
Selago Johnstoni Rolfe.
Conyza Hochstetteri Sch. Bip.
Helichrysum globosum Sch. Bip.
Artemisia afra Jacq.
*Cineraria kilimanjarica Engl. u. sp.
Erica arborea L.
Celsia floccosa Benth.
Bulbostylis schoenoides Kunth.
Psoralea foliosa Oliv.
Hebenstreitia dentata L.
Schmiedelia rubifolia Höchst.
2 A

370

APPENDIX.

»Striija elcrrans Benth.

*Tillaea obtusifolia En<il. n. sp.

»Senecio Johnstoni Oliv.

Gra.^s and Shruh Region ahove the For-
est (9850-15400 feet; Jul)/ 1887).
Arabis albida Stev.
Cerastium vulgatiim Z.
*Geranium kilimanjaricum Em/l.

n. sjj.
Scabiosa Columbaria L.
Helichrysum Meyeri Johannis E711/I.

n. sp.
Erigeron Telekii Schwein/, n. sp.
Euryops dacrydioides Oliv.
Helichrysum Steudneri Schweinf.

— abyssinicum Seh. Bip.
Helichrysum Kilimanjari Oliv.
Blaeria Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp.

— glutinosa K. Seh. n. sp.
Antholyza abyssinica A. Brongn.
Asparagus äff. plumoso
Andropogon Schimperi Höchst.
Koeleria cristata L.
Panicum Hochstetteri Steud.
Setaria glauca P. B.
Veronica myrsinoides Oliv.
Adenocarpus Mannii Hook f.
Selago Thomsoni Rolfe.

On the Mtie (10,1 70 feet ; Jidy 18S7).

Alectra asperi-ima Benth.
^Galium kilimanjaricum K. Seh.
Helichrysum Gunge Schweinf.
Hebenstreitia dentata L.
*Protea kilimanjarica Engl. n. sp.
Myrsine africana L.

At the Spring in the Snow (i 2,950 feet;
Juli/ 1887).

Geranium simense Höchst, var. Me-
yeri Engl.

Sebaea brachyphylla Griseb.

*Anagallis Meyeri Johannis K.
Schwn. n. sp.

Between the Mue and the Camp at
Maicenzi (9845-14,435 feet; Nov-
ember 1889).

Luzula spicata var. simensis Höchst.
Kniphofia Thomsoni Baker.
Dierama pendula Baker.
*S\vertia kilimanjarica Engl. n. sp.
Alcliemilla argyrophylla Oliv.
Cnicus polyacanthus Höchst.
Hebenstreitia dentata L. var. inte-

grifolia L.
*Bartsia Purtschelleri Engl. n. sp.
*Thesium kilimanjaricum, Engl. n. sp.
Cardamine pratensis L. forma alpina.
Ranunculus oreophytus Delile
*Sedum Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp.
Alchemilla Johnstoni Oliv.
*Pthamphicarpa Meyeri Engl. n. sp.
Subularia monticola A. Br.

Marangu, Uru, and Majame (4265-
4920 feet).

Dodonaea viscosa L.
Eriosema parviflorum E. Mey.
*Gnidia Meyeri Johannis Engl. n. sp
Thunbergia fuscata Th. Anders.
Heliotropium kilimanjaricum Engl.
Cissus arguta (Hook, f.) Planch, var.

Oliveri Erigl.
Nymphaea Lotus L.
*Jasminum Meyeri Johannis Engl.

n. sp.
Striga elegans Benth.
Cuscuta Kilimanjari Oliv.
Peperomia reflexa (L. ßl.) A. Dietr.
Anthericum rubellum Baker
Tricholaena Teneriffa Pari.

Cultivated Plants from Jagga
[November 1889).

Colocasia antiquorum Schott
Eleusine Coracana (Z.) Gärtn.
Vigna sinensis Engl.

BUTTERFLIES.

371

Phaseolus vulgaris L. var. sarcozebra

Alef.
Nicotiana Tabacum L.

Ugweno Mountains {November 1889).

Melanthera Brownei Sch. Bip.
Stylosanthes erecta P. B.
Thunbergia alata L. var. exalata
Engl.

Asparagus aff. plumoso

Adenium speciosum Fenzl. var. gla-

brum Engl.
*Dolichos uguenensis Tauh n. sp.
Erica arborea L.
* Hedysarearum Tauh. gen. prohahi-

liter novum
Helichrysum Kilimanjari Oliv.
*Cycnium Meyeri Johannis Engl.n. sp.

VII.

THE BUTTERFLIES OF THE KILIMANJARO REGION".

By C. FROMHOLZ, Berlin.

The collection of sixty-eight species of butterflies made by Dr. Meyer in the
course of his third expedition, and presented by him to the Royal Museum,
includes several species which are distributed throughout the whole of
Tropical Africa ; such are Papilio demoleus, Papilio pylades, Pontia alr.esta,
Eronia huquetii (also found in Arabia), Acraea serena, Junonia clelia, and
Hamanumida daedalus. Others again are characteristic of West Africa,
as Papilio leonidas, Precis sopliia, Precis elgiva, Patula macrops, and Cyli-
gramma fluduosa. Papilio nireus occurs both in Central and South Africa.
Pieris eriphia, Colias electra, and C all oaune j alone are characteristic of South
Africa alone, and Pajnlio antheus, Acraea lycia, Precis amestris, Salamis ana-
cardii, Eurytela hiarbas, Hypanis ilithyia, Neptis agatha, Palla varanes, and
Antherea tyrrhaea are distributed throughout West and South Africa. Pieris
abyssinica is known both in Abyssinia and at the Cape, and seems to occur
all along the East Coast. Except in the west, Pieris severiiia is to be met
with everywhere throughout the Continent ; Idmais chrysonome and Idmais
dynamene are found in Arabia.

Of the remaining species, the following occur in Southern Europe as well
as in Africa : — Danais chrysijjpus and Deiopyeia p)ulchella ; Hypolimnas misip-
pus occurs in India, and Cupido (Lycaena) telicanus is met with over the
whole eastern hemisphere. Vanessa cardui is common all over the world.

Among the rarer species are the following : — Papilio constantinus (only
found in East Africa), and Tei'acolus 2?rotomedia (known also in Abyssinia
and Arabia). The following species had already been brought to Europe
by Von der Decken : — Papilio demoleus, Pieris abyssinica, Callosune exole,
Acraea serena, Precis amesti-is, Junonia oenone, Salamis anacardii, Hypanis
ilithyia, Hamanumida daedalus, and Cupido [Lycaena) jesous.

372

APPENDIX.

Catalogue of the Butterflies Collected by Dr. Meyer in the
Kilimanjaro Region.

(Neio species marked with an asterisk [*]. )

Papilio leonidas F.

34-

— demoleus L.

35-

— antheus Cram.

36.

— py lades F. var.

37.

— nireus L.

38.

— zenobia F.

39-

— • constantinus Ward.

40.

— pliilone Ward.

41.

— Pontia alcesta Cram.

42.

lO.

— Eurema var. floricola Bsd.

43-

1 1.

— Pieris pigea Bsd. {?).

44.

12.

— abyssinica Luc.

45-

13-

— eriphia Godt.

46.

14.

— severina Cram.

47.

15-

Tachyris poppea Cram. var.

48.

16.

— Sylvia F.

49.

U-

Eronia buquetii Bsd. var. arabica

5°-

Hopff.

51-

18.

Catopsilia pyrene Swains.

52.

19.

Colias electra L.

53-

20.

*Idmais chrysonome Kl. var.

21.

dynamene Kl.

54-

22.

Teracolus protomedia Kl.

55-

23-

*Callosune jalone Butl. var.

56.

24.

— exole Reiche

57-

25-

— phlegetonia Bsd.

58.

26.

evarne Kl. var.

59-

27-

— spec.

60.

28.

Danais chrysippus L. var. dorip-

61.

pus KL

62.

29.

limniace Cram.

63-

30.

Mycalesis safitza Hew.

64.

31-

— remulia Godt. (?)

65.

32.

Acraea lycia F. var. fulva

66.

Doubl.

67.

33-

— natalica Bsd.

68.

Acraea anemosa Hetv.

— Serena F.

— eponina Cram.

— oncaea Hopff. var.

— insignis Dist. var.

— spec.
Vanessa cardui L.
Junonia clelia Cram.

— oenone L.
Precis amestris Drury,

— kowara Ward.

— natalica Feld.

— elgiva Hexo.

— limnoria Kl.

— Sophia F.
Salamis anacardii L.
Eurytela valentina Cram.

— hiarbas Drury.
Hypanis ilithyia Drury.
Ilypolimnas misippus L. ^ var

inaria Cram.
Neptis agatha Cram.
Hamanumida daedalus F.
Palla varanes Cram.
Lycaena (Polyommatus) spec.
Cupido (Lycaena) telicanus Hb.

— jesous Guer.

— spec.

— spec.
Nisoniades spec.
Deiopeia pulchella L.
Isochroa phedonia Cram.
Antherea tyrrhaea Cram.
Patula macrops L.
Cyligramma fluctuosa Drury.

BEETLES. 373

YIII.

THE BEETLES OF THE KILIMANJARO REGION.

By H. J. KOLBE, Berlin.

The Coleoptera in the collection presented by Dr. Hans Meyer to the Royal
Mviseum agree, for the most part, with the species known to prevail throughout
East Africa. A few, however, are peculiar to the Kilimanjaro region, viz.,
Diastellopalims johnstoni Waterh., one species of Onitis, two species of Trox,
and a new species of weevil, Ent ypotrachehis meyeri. None of these latter
were formerly included in the Royal Collection.

Of the remaining species belonging to Kilimanjaro, Ateuchus aeratus
Gerst. is hardly known outside the district, while Anachalcos procerus Gerst.
is known throughout Central Africa as far as the Congo region. BJu/so-
trachelus teani Gerst. was described a few years ago as occurring in Shoa.
Om'ticellus planatus Boh. occurs likewise in South Africa. Widely distri-
buted species are : Mijlabris ampledens Gerst. (East and West Africa),
Hijhosorus arator F. (throughout Africa and the Mediterranean region),
Chilomenes lunata F. (West, South, and East Africa, as far as Abyssinia ;
Madagascar and India), EjnlacJma pundipennis Muls. (East, West, and South
Africa).

Several species of beetles are common to Ugweno and Kilimanjaro, viz.,
Ateuchus aeratus Gerst., Mitopliorm semiaenus Gerst., and a species of Schi-
zonycha. Other species are distributed more widely throughout East Africa,
viz., Mylahris aperta Gerst,, Tefflus juvenilis Gerst., and Tefflus hacquardi
Chaud. Ceralces natalensis Baly, Diplognatlia silicea M'Leay, and SiJplia
mirans F. extend as far as South Africa. A species of Alesia, one of Gonio-
dilhis, one of Monodielus, one of Phrynocolus, and one of Exodionus appear
to be restricted to Kilimanjaro.

The beetles collected on the return journey from Kilimanjaro to Mom-
baza (end of November and beginning of December 1889) mostly belong to
well-known East African species, e.g., Tefflus hacquardi Chaud, and T.
juvenil is Gerst., Cldaenius maximiliani Har., Gymnochila squamosa Gray,
Anoviala kersteni Gerst., Sternocera boucardi Saund., Aniiantus castanop)terus
Haag (new to the Royal Collection), Sepidium muscosum Gerst., Dinoscelis
passerinii Gerst., Microcerits annullger Har., and Systates pollinosus Gerst.

Certain species first brought home by Von der Decken from the interior
and also from the Kilimanjaro district are included among those collected on
the return journey : such are Ateuchus catenatus Gerst., Trox haccatus Gerst.,
Micrantereus femoratus Gerst., Anomalipus heraldicus Gerst., lihyiidonota
gracilis Gerst., 72. ventricosa Gerst, and Chaunoderus stupidus Qevst. Another
.species new to the Royal Collection is Sternocera hunteri Waterh., first dis-

374

APPENDIX.

covered in 1 889, the typical specimen coming from the same locality. Another
remarkable beetle brought by Dr. Meyer from the same region as these last
is a species of Lachnodera, a genus of Melonthidae hitherto known only to
occur in Madiigascar.

Catalogue of the Beetles collected by Dr. Meyer in the
Kilimanjaro Eegion.

(jVew species marked icitli an asterisic [*].)

Diplognatha silicea M-Leny.
*Goniochilus meyeri spec. nov.
Trox baccatus Gerst.

* — montanus spec. nov.

— spec.
Stemocera hunteri Waterh.

— boucardi Saund.
Melyris pumila Gerst.
Hapalochrus amplipennis Har.
Lycus spec.
Luciola spec.

Micrantereus femoratus Gerst.
Phrynoculus ater Waterh.

* — undatocostatus spec. nov.
Amiantus castanopterus Haag.
Sepidium muscosum Gerst.
Dinoscelis passerinü Gerst.
Anomalipus hei-aldicus Gerst.
Rhytidonota ventricosa Gerst.

— gracilis Gerst.
Lagria sjjec,

Mylabris amplectens Gerst.
Mylabris aperta Gerst.
Lytta s/jec.
Macrathrius spec.
Mitophorus semiaeneus Gerst.
Systates aeneolus Har.

— pollinosus Gerst.
Chaunoderus stupidus Gerst.
*Entypotrachelusmeyerisp€c..wöi;.
*Peribrotus spec.
Microceiiis annuliger Har.

— spiniger Gerst.
Ceratites jaspideus Serv.

Teflflus hacquardi Chaud.

35-

— juvenilis Gerst.

36.

Chlaenius maximiliani Har.

37-

Khysotrachelus teani Gestro.

38.

Metaxymorphus spec.

39-

Orthogonius spec.

40.

Silpha micans F.

41.

Saprinus splendens Er.

42.

Hister tropicalis Mars.

43-

10.

Gymnochila squamosa Gray.

44.

II.

Ateuchus aeratus Gerst.

45-

12.

— catenatus Gerst.

46.

13-

Gymnopleurus splendidus DeJ.

47-

14.

Anachalcos procerus Gerst.

48.

15-

^Onitis meyeri sjjCc. nov.

49.

16.

Oniticellus planatus Boh.

50-

17-

Diastellopalpus johnstoni Waterh.

51-

18.

Onthophagus picticollis Gerst.

52.

19.

* — fratemus spec. nov.

53-

20.

— spec.

54.

21.

— spec.

55-

22.

— spec.

56.

23-

Catharsius sp/ec.

57-

24.

Phaeochrous beccarii Har.

58.

25-

Hybosorus ai-ator F.

59-

26.

*Lachnodera fulvescens spec. nov.

60.

27.

*Schizonycha spec.

61.

28.

* — spec.

62.

29.

* — spec.

(>3-

30.

*Monochelus vagans spec. nov.

64.

31.

Trochalus spjec.

65-

32.

Anomala tendinosa Gerst.

66.

33-

— kersteni Gerst.

67.

34-

Pachnoda ephippiata Gerst.

68.

DETERMINATION OF HEIGHTS. 375

69. Aspidomorpha spec,

70. Callispa sjpec.

7 I . Ceralces natalensis Bali/.

72. *Alesia kilimana spec. nov.
73- — ^pec.

74, Exochomus spec.

75. Chilomenes lunata F.

76 Chilocorus distigma Gerst.

77. Epilachna scalaris Gerst.

78. — punctipennis Muls.

IX.

DR HANS MEYER'S OBSERVATIONS FOR THE
DETERMINATION OF HEIGHTS.

Computed by Dr. ERNEST WAGNER of Berlin.

A FEW remarks on the methods employed in computing Dr. Meyer's hypso-
metrical observations may prove acceptable, in order that the reader may be
enabled to estimate the trustworthiness of the lesults obtained.

As the readings of the aneroids pointed to great resultant heights, it was
deemed inadvisable to work out special tables for their reduction, especially
as the climatological materials, as far as Eastern Africa is concerned, are still
very imperfect. All heights were computed according to the complete for-
mula of Pernter,^ which is a modification of that of Riihlmann, Pernter's for-
mula not only embodies the most trustworthy values of the physical constants,
but also enables iis to dispense with the correction required by the change
of gravity from the latitude of 45° to the latitude of the place of observation.
These tables are thus directly applicable to observations made with aneroids-
This remark applies also to boiling-point thermometers, the observed tem-
peratures of which yield directly the corresponding atmospheric pressure,
without its being necessary to apply an}' corrections whatsoever.

Dr. Meyer took with him three boiling-point thermometers by Fuess of
Berlin (Nos. 135, 158, and 159), of which one (No. 159) was broken, whilst
the others were brought back to Berlin and verified at the Imperial Physical
Observatory at Charlottenburg. The use of these instruments proved in-
valuable in checking the index-errors of the aneroids. They wei-e verified
both before starting and after returning, and their index-errors were found
to be so trifling that the mean readings of both could be confidently accepted
as coi'rect. Boiling-point thermometer No. 159 gave almost parallel read-
ings with No. 158 up to the time it was bi'oken, and its index-error, as
ascertained before starting, thus furnished a sufficient basis for correcting its
leadings during the journey.

By means of these instruments a general idea of the index-errors of the
aneroids could be formed. It should be stated that aneroids No. 1250 and

^ See Exner in Repertorium der Physik, 1888, pp. 161-178.

Ije APPENDIX.

1-55) by Bohne of Berlin, pi'oved exceedingly trustworthy, and this was
confirmed by the careful verification to which they were subjected at the
Physical Observatory after returning.

It is well known that the index-error of most aneroids is a very vari-
able quantity, and that a full knowledge of it is absolutely necessary if
heights are to be determined by their means. Dr. Meyer checked his
aneroid readings by boiling-point observations taken at intervals of two or
three days, and sometimes even more frequently. He thus determined a
number of points in a curve representing the variations in the index-errors
of the aneroids. These cui-ves show that the variations were never abrupt,
as happens in the case of these delicate instruments after a fall or other
accident. They show rather that the variations observed originated exclu-
sively from the principle on which these instruments are constructed. They
indicate changes of atmospheric pressure in consequence of the elasticity of
the vacuum -chamber, and it is for this reason that imperfections in the
materials employed in making the instrument must necessarily affect its
readings. Even the best aneroids are not free from these elastic after-
effects : their amount depends upon the changes in atmospheric pressure,
and the rapidity with which they take place, and must be thoroughly ascer-
tained if aneroid x"eadings are to be utilised for computing heights.

At the Physical Observatory, the aneroids were subjected to pressures
corresponding to those experienced when they were in use, and this enabled
the computer to determine approximately the variations in their index-errors
in all those instances in which they were not checked by boiling-point obser-
vations. This method of interpolation is preferable to accepting the index-
errors as ascertained before the start and after returning, as the instruments
are naturally affected by long sea- voyages under a constant pressure of 760
mm. (30 in.).

A convenient view of the changes of atmospheric pressure, and of the
rapidity with which they took place, was obtained by treating the recorded
readings of the aneroids as ordinates and the intervals of time as abscissae.
With the aid of a curve of atmospheiic pressure thus obtained, and of the
index-errors actually determined at the Physical Observatory, it became
possible to con.struct a curve representing the variations in the index-errors
for the period intervening between boiling-point observations. For pressures
ranging from 760 to 390 mm. (15 to 30 in.) this curve fairly represented the
facts of the case, and, although only an approximation, proved sufficient for
the purpose. Changes of atmo.splieric pressure to the extent of 80 mm.
(3 in.) were experienced in the course of a few days, which naturally entailed
an accumulation of conflicting "elastic after-effects." A skilled observer
might possibly succeed in determining these after-effects in a physical
observatory, but all that can be looked for subsequently are approximate
results.

During very many days the aneroids never rose above 457 mm. (18

DETERMINATION OF HEIGHTS. 377

in.), an atmospheric pressure which few of these instruments are sup-
posed to record. On Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak the corrected readings of
the two aneroids Nos. 1250 and 1255 were 374.9 and 375.1 mm. (14.760
and 14.768 in.) respectively. The true variations in the index-error could
therefore be expressed only by a complicated function. Taking due note
of the verifications which took place after the return home, and accepting
plausible mean values for the variations, we obtain a curve which exhibits
frequent abrupt changes, but is nevertheless continuous.

Some idea of the character of these variations may be formed from the
following data. On August 30, 1889, aneroid 1250 recorded 762.4 mm.,
the index-error amounting to +0.1 mm. On October 7, after a minimum
atmospheric pressure of 374.9 mm., the index-error for the same instrument
rose to -1-3.8 mm. On October 22, in the course of eight hours, the atmos-
pheric pressui^e increased from 456.9 mm. to 543.5 mm., the index-error rising
simultaneously from -1-5.5 ^^' ^^ +6.7 mm. (0.22 to 0.26 in.). On January
3, 1890, with an atmospheric pressure of 760.2 mm., the index-error had
once more fallen to —0.9 mm. In the case of aneroid No. 1255 the cor-
responding index-errors amounted to -3.3, -0.5, +2.3, +3.9, and —4.5
mm. It will thus be seen that the index-errors of both instruments moved
on nearly parallel curves, although they differed so widely in the absolute
amount.

The readings of the aneroids were corrected for temperature in accordance
with the results of their examination at the Physical Observatory. In com-
puting the altitude the corrected means of both instruments were taken.

All differences of height were referred to the German war-ships Schwalbe,
Sperber, and Carola, the meteorological journals of which for the period in
question were kindly communicated by the Admiralty. They were, as a rule,
stationed at Zanzibar, but it happened freqi;ently that all three vessels were
absent at one and the same time, either off Pemba or at some port of the
mainland. The observations made on board the vessels were nevertheless
treated as if they had been made at the same place, for within the tropics
temperature and atmospheric pressure are but little influenced by short dis-
tances, such as those in question here. As the distance between the lower
and upper stations frequently exceeded two hundred miles, the correction for
the temperature of the intermediate air could only be an approximate one.
No correction due to the diurnal range of the barometer was applied, firstly,
because it is insignificant as compared with the correction due to differences
of temperature, and, secondly, we know but little about this range in the
case of lofty mountains lying within the tropics.

On Mount Dodabetta {8630 feet) the diurnal range amounts to 0.083
inches, as compared with o. 1 1 8 inches at Madras. Even if we had introduced
this value into the hypsometrical formula, it would scarcely have affected the
results obtained. For gi-eater altitudes within the tropics we have no obser-
vations at all. On Pike's Peak in Colorado (14? 130 f^et) the diurnal range

378

A PPENDIX.

reaches at most 0.032 inches ; it is therefore probable that it decreases with
the height under the tropics also. This, however, is merely a hypothesis.

When temperature and humidity were not determined at places where
the aneroid was read, values for these elements were inteipolated. Dr.
Kersten's observations for humidity in 1864 furnished mean values which
were accepted, whilst Dr. Mej^er's own temperature observations showed that
the temperature of the region explored decreased with the height at the
following rates, viz., between 6 a.m. and 6 p.m. at the rate of 0.53° C. for 100
metres (1° F. for 344 feet), and between 6 p.m. and 6 a.m. at the rate of
0.6° C. for 100 metres (1° F. for 304 feet).

List of the Principal Heights determined between Mombaza and

Kilimanjaro.

Date.

Locality.

Feet.

Date.

1889.

Sept. 4.

Monibaza (Harbour)

„ 5-

Rabai (Mission station)

545

Oct. 6.

„ 6.

Camp at the Moadje

492

„ 7-

Mkuyuni camp

617

„ 6.

„ 8.

Ngurungas of Goie .

590

M 9-

Sambiiru camp

945

„ II.

.. 9-

Taro camp

1. 214

„ 12.

„ 10.

Ngurunga at Makanga

1-355

T "2

„ 10.

Camp in the steppes

1-503

„ 'j-

„ II.

Maungu camp .

2,349

., 13-

„ 12.

Ndara camp

2,172

.. 14

Matate camp .

2,84s

„ 13-

„ 15-

Buia camp

3,100

,. 15.

„ 16.

Maiago ya Mzimgu

3,219

„ 15-

,. 17-

Lanjoro mdogo

2,815

,. 15-

„ 17-

Taveta .

2,444

„ 21.

Habaii R.

2,966

„ 17-

„ 21.

Hi mo camp

3,015

„ 17-

„ 22.

Moji stream

2,831

., 19-

„ 22.

„ English mission

4,380

„ 22.

„ German station

4,485

,, 19-

,, 25.

Summit of Kiriia .

5,154

„ 25.

Hill of Lasso .

5.256

,, 19-

„ 25.

Mue stream

4,587

„ 19-

,. 25.

Marangu .

4,565

,, 25.

Camp at the Rua .

6,430

„ 19-

„ 28.

In the forest .

6,880

,, 21.

„ 29.

Camp at tlie Kifinika

8,707

„ 21

,, 29.

„ „ „ Mue .

9,478

„ 21.

V 30-

Dr. Abbott's camp .

12,979

„ 31-

Oct. I.

Kibo camp

14,200

Nov. 1.

)i 2.

Talus in vallt-y on S.E.

16,270

,. I-

Kibo

.. 3-

Ice above SE. ridge

17,983

,1 3-

>. 3-

Crater rim

. 19,262

,. 4-

., 3-

In the "red ravine "

. 14,682

., 5-

» 5-

Bottom of S.E. valley

14,659

„ 6.

» 5-

Cave where we bivouacke

i 15,263

» 7-

„ 6.

Lower end of Ratzel glacie

r 17,392

„ 8.

„ 6.

Upper ,, ,,

18,681

„ 6.

r First peak on summit
L Kibo

^} 19.676

.. 9-
„ »5-

r Second peak on summit of"!
Kibo (Kaiser William's r
[ Peak) ... .J
/Third peak on summit of)
\ Kibo . . . ./

Camp at the Schneequelle

Camp at Mawenzi .
f Lower extremity of great)
l^ talus on Mawenzi .j

/Commencement of solid)
\^ rock . . . ./

Western ridge .

Cleft in the central crest .

Purtscheller Peak .

Highest flowering plants
(Lower limit of ice-cap on~\
( the north of Kibo . ./

Detached glacier
/Ice below the "Hans-)
\ Meyer Notch" . ./

Bottom of crater
flee above "Hans-Meyer)
\ Notch". . . ./

Foot of the " Red Hill" .
f Summit of the "Red)
\ Hill" . . . ./

N.W. hills on Mawenzi .

Northern ridge

Cleft in N.W. ridge .

Kahe camp

Rufu, where we crossed .
'Mrushunga camp

Wangobi camp

Mafurra .

Summit of Gamualla

Naguvu camp .

Ngovi camp
.Mt. Ngovi
/Camp at the Papyrus^
V swamp . . . ,/
„ Habari River.

Ngona River .

(JQ

Feet.

9,718

9,679
2.910
4,301

5,256

6,057
6,687

6,713
6,834
5420

8,560

5,912

8,914

8,928

9,242

4,616

4,830

4,823
5,190
6,132

2,454
2,382

3,103
4,547
5,180

6.56s
4491
4,692
5.578
2,484

3.169
5512

CARTOGRAPHY.

379

Nov.

LOCALITV.

Feet.

Date
1 88s

Locality.

Feet.

."i6.

C;imp in Kiboso

9918

Nov. 26.

Nanga stream .

4268

17-

Upper limit of forest

8894

26.

HillofKinia .

5158

17-

/Urn, upper limit of cul-)

5686

29.

Una stream

5095

i. tivated zone . ./

29.

Mwika camp .

4751

i8.

Camp in Uru .

4849

3°-

Taveta .

2444

19.

Trench at the boundary .

3530

Dec

Lanjoro mdogo

2812

19-

/Confluence of the Wunlbol
(^ and the Ngorabere ./

Camp in the steppes

3'27

2950

Bura camp

3100

19.

Maembe stream

3632

Foot of Javia Hill .

3474

19.

]\Ianjoka stream

3582

„

Matate camp .

284s

19-

Nseri „ . . .

3563

Ndara camp

2172

19.

Camp at the Weri-weri .

4078

Älaungu ,,

2343

19.

River Weri-weri

3927

Taro

1220

21.

Camp in Majame

4626

10.

Samburu „

945

21.

River Kikafu .

4439

II.

Moadje „

518

21.

River Nasere .

4446

12.

Rabai „

541

23-

Camp at Ngomljere River

3"4

„

12.

Bandarin camp

154

24.

River Rau

2946

13-

Mombaza (Freretown)

CARTOGRAPHY.

By Dr. B. HASSENSTEIN of Gotha.

A PERUSAL of Dr. Meyer's narrative distinctly reveals the fact that the author
has missed no opportunity of supplying materials for a map. During his
second expedition this task had devolved upon Dr. O. Baumann ; on the
present occasion it was undertaken by Dr. Meyer himself, who had provided
himself for that purpose with excellent surveying instruments, and had under-
gone a course of instruction at the Admiralty Office at Berlin. When
Dr. Meyer reached Aden on his way home, he offered me the whole of his
cartographical materials, well knowing that I held the giant mountain of
Eastern Africa in special veneration ever since the earlier materials fur-
nished by Rebmann and Krapf, and by Baron Yon der Decken and his com-
panions, had passed through my hands.

The materials brought home by Dr. Meyer turned out to be of exceptional
value. I saw at once that the whole of them could not be utilised for the
present volume. It appeared to me that a compilation combining Dr. Meyer's
work with the surveys of Thornton and Yon der Decken, and of Lieutenant
von Höhnel (1887-8S), as also with other existing materials, was called for.
This complete map, together with a memoir, I propose to publish in a geogra-
phical periodical.

The following figures, therefore, are merely intended to give an idea of
the original materials which were available for the con.struction of the maps
accompanying this volume. With two exceptions, they are results obtained

38o

APPENDIX.

by Dr. Meyer himself in tlie course of 1889, and fall under the following
heads : —

1. Astronomical detcnniiiations of positions.

2. Route surveys.

3. Measurements of angles.

4. Determinations of altitude.

5. Determination of magnetic variation.

6. Sketches, proliles, pliotographs, and the lil:e.

I. Astronomical Observations. — These were made with the aid of a portable
transit theodolite by Hildebrand & Schramm, of Freiburg, in Saxony, and
of three pocket-clu'onometers by A. Lange & Sons, of Glashütte, near Dres-
den. The vertical cii'cle of the theodolite was divided to half degrees, and
the instrument was examined by Mr. Neubert, of the German Admiralty,
before Dr. Meyer's departure, and again after his return. The watches
(described as Nos. 6, 7, and 8) were carefully rated at the Royal Observatory
at Leipzig.

Colonel von Sterneek, of the Military Geographical Institute of Vienna,
kindly computed Dr. Meyer's observations. The results are as follows : —

Date.

1889.

Sept

■ .S

1.3

»»

»I

Oct.

Nov

• 3

Dec

»J

„

Observed Error of Watch on Mean
Local Time.

Stations.

Mombaza . ,
Samburu Camj
Taro Camp .
Ndara Camp
Bura Camp .
Taveta . .

Moji station
( Marangu (Mare- I
( ale's village) . )
j Kibo Camp (Rock \
\ of the Four Men) |
j Mawenzi Camp \

\ (East Lava Hill) '

Kisinga rivulet
Niiguvu Camji . .
Ngovi Mount . ,
Marangu . . ,
Uru-Salika Camp

Majame Camp . ,

Moji station
Marangu

Mwika .
Matate .
Ndara
Samburu
Mombaza

Longi-

tude

West of

East of

Mom-

Green-

baza.

wich.

h. m. s.

, .

000

39 41-2

I 54

39 12.7

2 21

39 5-9

5 11

38 23.4

6 17

38 6.9

8 54

27 27.7

8 so

10 29

37 3-9

10 20

37 6.2

10 24

37 5-2

II 24

36 50.2

II 24

II 28

36 49.2

10 10 21

37 5-9

ID 9

37 8.9

Id id 20

37 6.2

ID 58

36 56.7

II 46

36 44-7

10 29

37 3-9

10 20

37 6.2

10 20

9 41

36 15-9

6 09

38 8.9

5 II

38 23.4

I 54

39 12.7

000

39 41-2

CARTOGRAPHY. 381

In the preceding table the longitudes given in the last column are re-
ferred to the Monibaza Fort, supposed to be 39° 41' 10" east of Greenwich, in
accordance with observations made by officers of Her Majesty's surveying
vessel Stork in 1888, kindly communicated by Captain Wharton, the hydro-
grapher, viz. : —

Zanzibar, British Consulate . . . 39° ii' 8" East of Greenwich.

Difference in longitude between this Con-
sulate and Ras Kidomoui (English

Point), near Mombaza .... 30' S" East of Greenwich.

Resultant longitude of Kidomoni . . 39° 41' 16" East of Greenwich.

Flag-stafF of the Fort, Monibaza . . 6" West of Kidomoni.

Longitude of the flag-staff . . . . 39° 41' 10" East of Greenwich.

Colonel Von Sterneck, in the letter which accompanies his calculations,
states that the latitudes are quite trustworthy, but that owing to the short-
comings of the watches, and especially of Nos. 6 and 7, the longitudes are
not satisfactory. " Longitudinal differences between places lying so near
each other," he says, " cannot satisfactorily be determined by this method,
as unavoidable errors are greater than the differences. Only the telegraph,
or a larger number of chronometers, could yield satisfactory results. It
would be advisable to recalculate the observations, for the errors of the
watches were very considerable, as has been the case with all watches used
by African travellers, as far as my experience goes."

As it was most desirable to obtain a satisfactory longitude for Taveta,
Dr. Harzer, the Director of the Gotha Observatory, kindly undertook to
recalculate the observations. He found, however, that the error in the
longitude of Mombaza amounted to 10', whilst at the western stations it
reached + 20'. Dr. Harzer assured me that these errors were due to serious
injuries suffered by the chronometers, and I thei-efore rejected Dr. Meyer's
longitudes altogether, and had to trust to his other materials in plotting the
general map.

As to Taveta, I accepted the longitude determined by Lieut. Von Hohnel,
of Count S. Teleki's expedition, viz., 37° 35' east of Greenwich.^ A more
careful plotting of all Dr. Meyer's observations than that which I have
been able to effect for the present volume may possibly show whether the
longitude accepted by me is the most nearly correct.

2. Route Surveys. — These, as usual, were made by the aid of a watch and
of a pocket-compass (of square form, by E. Schneider of Vienna). Dr. Meyer
plotted his routes on ruled paper, on a scale of i milimetre to the minute
(2.4 inches to an hour's march). He took bearings at intervals of about three
minutes, and the results proved highly satisfactory. The whole of the route
was plotted on sixteen folio sheets, on the scale adopted by Dr. Meyer, and
this general map afforded the means of systematically arranging the notes

1 See Lieut. Von Höhnel's Report in Petermann's Mitteilungen, Supplement, No. 99,
p. 43-

382 APPENDIX.

on the features of the ground, the direction of the livulets, the character of
the vegetation, &c., which were found in Dr. Meyer's note-books.

Dr. Meyer, on various occasions, determined the length of his paces, and
thus afforded a valuable means of plotting his routes. The average length of
his pace was 64 cm. (25.2 in.). In the steppe plains between Mombaza and
Taveta, and to the west of the latter, he took no paces in a minute, the rate
of progress amounting to 4.2 km. (2.6 miles) an hour. In the inhabited
parts of Jagga and Ugweno he marched at the rate of 102 paces a minute,
being equivalent to 3.9 km. (2.4 miles) an hour; in the primeval forest and
beyond this route it was reduced to 66 paces, or 2.6 km. (1.6 miles) an hour.
Higher up still the progress varied exceedingly, according to the steepness of
the ground and the exhaustion of the traveller, and by itself afforded no
means of plotting the route.

The caravan route from Mombaza to Taveta was surveyed very carefully,
and has been plotted by me on a large scale, with the aid of bearings to the
conspicuous peaks of Kilibasi and Kadiaro, and of four tru.st worthy latitudes.
As the scale of map i in this volume is too small to show all the details, I
propose to publish this map subsequently on a larger scale.

3. Measurements of Angles. — Bearings taken with one of Gary's prismatic
compasses, and supplemented by profiles facilitating the identification of the
objects sighted, constitute by far the most valuable portion of the material
contributed by Dr. Meyer towards the construction of a correct map.

These bearings, more than one thousand in number, were plotted by me
upon separate sheets of tracing-paper; the adjustment of which furnished a
series of forty-seven connected stations, numbered chronologically upon the
maps. Having prepared a projection on a scale of i : 250,000, and indicated
upon it the latitudes of Taveta, Moji, Uru-Salika, Majame, Mwika, Mawenzi
camp, and Kibo camp in the north, as also those of the camps at the Kisinga,
the Naguvu, and Mount Ngovi in the south, these bearings enabled me to
plot a network of triangles, which is invisible upon the map, but the know-
ledge of which would enable future cartographers and explorers to form a true
estimate of the trustworthiness of the trigonometrical basis of the maps. The
object of these lines is to suj^ply the place of that trigonometrical tracing.^

Among the stations which afforded the most satisfactory results were
those from which both summits of Kilimanjaro were visible, or from which
the volcanic cone of Mount ]\Ieru, a sharply-defined " volcanic mountain in the

^ I venture to advise future travellers once more to supply themselves not only with the
latest maps of the territories they are abmit to explore, but also to apply to cartographers
for series of triangles, lists of positions, memoirs, and lists of desiderata, so that they may be
enabled to direct their attention to things actually wanted, and avoid wasting their strength
upon work already satisfactorily done by their predecessors.

[It would be advisable if cartographers were to publish these " triangulations " forth-
with. In the present instance the principal bearings might have been inserted upon the
maps in red, or they might have been shown in a diagram covering half a page of this
volume. — Tr.'[

CARTOGRAPHY.

383

plain," or the principal summits of the Ugweno mountains could be sighted.
The most productive stations in Jagga were Nos. 7, 5, 45, 44, and 47.
Three summits in Ugweno (Gamualla, Sungo, and Mount Ngovi) not only
yielded bearings towards Kilimanjaro, but also afforded objective points for
an excellent survey of Ugweno itself, the delineation of which thus differs
considerably from the map based upon Mr. Thornton's bearings. More
abundant still were the materials furnished by Stations 12 to 29, which
lie on the saddle plateau and on the upper slopes of Kilimanjaro, and
which are shown distinctly on Map III.

The topogi-aphical details furnished by this latter group of bearings,
together with numerous profiles and photographs, as also the personal ex-
planations of Dr. Meyer, enabled me to construct a map of the upper regions
of Kilimanjaro on a large scale (i : 40,000), of which Map III. is a reduc-
tion. This map is based upon the observed latitudes of the Mawenzi camp
(3° 6' 36" S.) and the Kibo camp (3° 7' 14" S.), combined with the distance
between these two localities. This distance, as deduced from the itineraries
and the triangulation, amounts to about 5, certainly not under 4 km {2^
miles). Dr. Meyer, who apparently trusted to his astronomical observa-
tions, did not measure a base-line, an omission which one of his successors
may possibly be in a position to make good.

4. Altitudes. — A list of these, as far as they have been computed by Dr.
E. Wagner, will be found on p. 378. Fui-ther observations, including four
series of vertical angles measured with the theodolite, have still to be com-
puted, and will furnish additional materials for a continued map of the
region.

5. Magnetic Variation. — These observations for finding the errors of the
compass were taken with a prismatic compass by Gary, and with a compass
of square form by E. Schneider. The results, as calculated by Colonel Yon
Sterneck, are as follows : —

Date, 1889.

Station.

By Prismatic Compass.

By Square Com

jass.

Reading

0's
Azimuth.

Reading

Azimuth.

of
Needle.

Error W.

of
Needle.

Error W.

Aug. 28

Zanzibar

63° 23'

72° 0'

8° 37'

„ „

60" 16'

70" 30'

(10° 14')

55° 37'

298° 50'

5° 33'

Sept. 5

Mombaza

34° 42'

41° 50'

7° 8'

» 13

Ndara

277° 12'

28,° 30'

8° 18'

276° 38'

73° 0'

10° 22'

„ 19

Taveta

80° 24'

88° 45'

8° 21'

78° 12'

272° 0'

9° 48'

„ 27

Marangu

270° 24'

279° 0'

8^36'

270° 23'

80° 30'

9° 7'

Oct. 16

Mawenzi

99° 18'

105° 30'

6° 12'

99° 21'

250° 0'

(10° 39')

„ 20

102^ 18'

108° 30'

6° 12'

102° 23'

251° 0'

6° 37'

Nov. 14

Marangu

"4° 57'

124° 30'

9° 33'

64° 51'

235° 0'

9° 51'

„ 21

Majame

243° 41'

257° 40'

(13° 59')

243° 55'

101° 0'

(14° 5')

Dec. 14

Mombaza

239° 45'

246° 30'

6° 45'

239° 54'

247° 40'

7° 46'

384 APPENDIX.

Colonel Von Sterneck has furnished no explanation as to the great differ-
ences between the above results and the variation indicated upon the Admi-
i-alty charts. He seems inclined, however, to give the preference to the
observations made with the square compass. I liave therefore taken the
mean of the stations Taveta, Marangu, and Majame (9° 6' W.) in constructing
the map of Kilimanjaro, especially as this result agrees satisfactorily with
Lieutenant Von Höhnel's observations. I rejected the results obtained
at the Mawenzi camp (6° 30' W.). Bearings taken from Stations 28 and
29 on the northern spur of Mawenzi towards points such as the outlet
of the Lumi, the position of which is known, show conclusively that the
proximity of volcanic rocks causes a local deflection of the magnetic needle
towards the East, amounting to 18 or 19 degrees. At Station 27, whence
bearings were taken towards the Nyiri swamps, this easterly deflection
scarcely amounts to a degree.

6. Numerous sketches, photographs, and profiles proved of great use in
the construction of the map, and a verbal explanation of the photographic
views of Kibo and Mawenzi furnished many topographical details which
have therein found a place.

XI.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

Literature of East Africa containing PiEFerences to
Kilimanjaro.

A full catalogue (with critical remarks) of the literature dealing with East
Equatorial Africa till the year 1870, is given in Hassenstein's Uehersicht der
LUteratur von Ost-Afrilca, appended to C. C. Von der Decken's Rehen in
Ost-Afrika, vol. iii., Part 3. The following list includes the names of such
works as deal more particularly with the history of travel and exploration
in the Kilimanjaro region.

Emery, Lieut. — Short Account of Mombas and the Neighbouring Coast of

Africa. {Journal of the Roy. Geog. Sac, 1833, vol. iii. pp. 280-282.)
CooLEY, W. D. — The Negroland of the Arabs Examined and Explained ; or

an Inquiry into the Early History and Geograpliy of Central Africa.

London, 1841. {Journal of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xii., 1842.)
CooLEY, Wm. Desborough. — The Geography of Nyassa ; or the Great Lake

of Southern Africa. {Journal of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xv., 1845,

p. 185; vol. xvi. p. 138.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 385

Feoberville, Eugene de. — Analyse d'un IMemoire sur les Langues et les
Races de I'Afrique Orientale au Sud de l'Equateur. (Proces verbaux des
seances de la Societe d'Histoire Naturelle de Maurice, 1846. Appendix,
p. 16.)

GuMPRECHT, T. E. — lieber den groszen südafrikanischen Volks- und Sprachs-
stamm. (Monatsb. der Ges. f. Erdk., Berlin, new edit., vol. vi., 1849,
pp. 142-191, Oonf. also vol. vii., 1850, pp. 239-291.)

GuMPRECHT, T. E. — " Rapport sur les Races Negres de lAfrique Orientale
du Sud de l'Equateur, observöes par M. de Froberville." {Comptes-rendus
de V Academic des Sciences, vol. xxx., 1850, No. 22.)

CooLBY, W. D. — Inner Africa Laid Open ; or an Attempt to Trace the Chief
Lines of Communication Across the Continent. London, 1852.

Guillain, Capt. M. — Documents sur I'Histoire, la Geographie et le Commerce
de I'Afrique Oi-ientale. 2 vols., with atlas and 54 plates. Paris, 1856
and 1857.

RoscHER, Dr. Albrecht. — Ptolemaus und die Handelsstraszen in Zentral-
Afrika. Ein Beitrag zur Erklärung der ältesten uns erhaltenen Welt-
karte. With 2 maps. Gotha, 1857. (Conf. also Petermanns Mitteü.y

1857. P- I54-)
MuRCHisoN. — Ueber die Beschaffenheit der Zentral-Regionen Afrikas.

{Petermanns Geogr. Mitteil., 1857, p. 340.)
GuNOT, Arnold. — Ueber die Struktur des Afrikanischen Kontinents. {Geogr.

Miit, 1857, p. 383.)
Behm, E. — Die Völker Ost-Afrika's nach Guillain, Krapf und anderen.

{Petermanns Geogr. Mitt., 1858, p. 396 and table.)
Macqueen, James. — Observations on the Geography of Central Africa.

{Proceedings of the Roy. Geog. Soc, 1859, p. 209.)
Beke, Dr. Charles T. — The Sources of the Nile. London, i860.
Beke, Dr. Ch. T. — On the Mountains forming the Eastern Side of the Basin

of the Nile, and the Origin of the Designation "Mountains of the

Moon," as applied to them. {Edinburgh Neto Philos. Journ., XIV., 1S61,

pp. 240-154.)
Neumann. — Forschungsreisen von Zanzibar und Zentral- Afrika. {Zeitschr.

f. Allg. Erdk., new edit., vol. vi., 1859, p. 386.)
Zeithammer. — Rückblicke auf die Geschiclite der geographischen Erforschung

Süd-Afrikas. {Mitteil, der k. k. geogr. Ges. in Mien., IV., i860, p. 165.)

Review of the literature on South Africa from the time of Ptolemy to

i860, with critical remarks.

Journeys of the Missionaries Krapf, Rebmann, and Erhardt.

A chronological account of the journeys of Krapf and Rebmann in East
Africa is given in Hassenstein's Bemerkungen zur Karte der Region den
Kilhna-Ndscharo und Kenia in Ost- Africa. {Petermanns Mitteil., 1864, Part
12, pp. 449-456.)

2 B

386 APPENDIX.

Krapf, Dr. — Schreiben an Professor von Ewald aus Rabhay Empia über
Rebmann's Entdeckung des Schneebergs Killi Mandscharo. {Zeitschr.
der Deutsch. Morgenland. GeseUsch., vol. iii. p, 317.)

Rebmann, J, — Journal d'un Excursion au Djagga, les Pays des Neiges de
l'Afiique Orientale. {Nouvelles Annales des Voyages, 1849, II., pp. 257,

300)
GuMPRECHT, T. E. — Die von Rebmann im östlichen Süd-Afrika in der Nähe

des Aequators entdeckten Schneeberge. (Monatsberichte d. Ges. f. Erdk.,

new edit., vol. vL, 1849, pp. 285-297.)
Ritter, E. — Dr. Krapf's Reise von Mombas zu dem Lande der Schneeberge

in Ukamba unter dem Aequator, 1849. (Monatsber. d. Ges. f. Erdk.,

new edit., vol. viii. p. 193.)
Berghaus, Heinr.— Killi Mandscharo, das Schneegebirge im tropischen

O.st- Afrika, unter 33° südl. Br. (Geograjyh. Jahrbuch zur Mitteil, aller

icicidigern neueren Erforschurigen, von Dr. Heinrich Berghaus, voL i.>

1850, pp. S9-6I-)

Bergbaus, Heinr. — Bergketten und Flusz-Systeme in Afrika. Anschauung
derselben im Jahre 1850. Zur Erläuterung der vorgehefteten Karte.
(Berghaus' Jahrbuch, Part 2, 1850, pp. 1-19.)

Krapp, Dr. Ludwig. — Journal seiner Reise nach Ukambani, 1849. Verhandl.
d. Ges. f. Erdk., 185 1, VIIL, p. 193.)

Krapf, Dr. L. — Journal d'un Voyage au Ouadigo, au Ouachinsi et ä l'Ousam-
bära, Contrees de la Cöte d'Afrique dans le Sud et le Sud-ouest de Mom-
baze. (Nouv. Annales des Voyages, 1850, IV., pp. 5-143; 185 1, I., pp.
51, 283; IIL, pp. 113; IV., pp. 72.)

Beke, Dr. Charles T. — Lieber die Herleitung des Nils aus dem N'Yassi oder
Groszen See von Süd- Afrika und über die Schneeberge im tropischen
Ost-Afrika. Schreiben an H. Berghaus. (Berghaus' Jahrbuch, Part 3,

185 1, pp. 62-66.)

GuMPRECHT, T. E. — Schnee und neue Schneeberge im tropischen Afrika.

(Zeitschrift für AU gem. Erdkunde, 1853, I., pp. 230-240.)
Petermanx, A. — The Snowy Mountains of Eastern Africa (Tlie Athenaeum,

1853, No. 1348.)
Rebmann, J. — Report of the British Association, 1854. (Transactions, p.

123.)
Rebmann. — Briefe aus Ost- und Büttel-Afrika. (Calwer Missionsblatt, 28,

Jahrg. 1885, No. 19, pp. 78-83.)
Krapf, Dr. J. L. — Reisen in Ost-Afrika, ausgeführt in den Jahren 1837-

1855. Kronthal und Stuttgart, 1858.
Erhardt, J. — On an Inland Sea in Central Africa. (Proc. of tlie Roy. Geog.

Soc, 1856, p. 8.)
Erhardt, J. — Memoire zur Erläuterung der von ihm und J. Rebmann

zusammengestellten Karte von Ost- und Zentral- Afrika, nebst Bemer-

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 387

kungen von W. Desb. Cooley unci A. Petermann. (Peterm. Geogr. Mitt.,

1856, pp. 19-32, and p. 483.)

(A German edition of the celebrated map which first appeared in the
Church Missionary Intelligences, and gave such an impetus to the
work of exploration during the next decade.)

IvRArF, Dr. L. — Kurze Beschreibung der Masai- und Wakuafi-Stämme im
südöstlichen Afrika. {Ausland, 1857, ISTos. 19 and 20.)

Erhardt, Rev. J. — Vocabulary of the Enguduk Iloigob, as Spoken by the
Masai Tribes in East Africa, Ludwigsbui-g, 1857. (Petermanns Miffeil.,

1857, p. 222.)

IvRAPF, Dr. L. — Die frühere Geschichte der Stadt Mombas, 4° südlich vom

Aequator, in Ost-Africa. (Ausland, 1858, No. 36.)
Krapf, Dr. L. — Travels, Researches, and Missionary Labours during an

Eighteen Years' Residence in Eastern Africa, London, i860. (An

American edition appeared in Boston in 1860.)
Krapf, Dr. L. — My Late Mission Tour to the East Coast of Africa. (Chris-
tian TFor/i throughout the World for 1S63. London, 1863, vol. i. p. 193-)
Meixicke, C. E. — Krapf 's und Rebmann's Reisen im östlichen Südafrik:^,

Mit 2 Karten von Kiepert. (Zeit. f. Allgem. Erdk., i860, new edit.,

vol. ix. p. 22 et seq.)
Die Entdeckungen in Afrika und die Mission. (Baseler Ecangelisches

Missions-Magazin, 1861, January number.)
Barth, Dr. H. — Dr. Augvist Petermann und die Schneeberge. (Zeit. f.

Allgem. ErdK:, new edit., vol. xiii., 1862, pp, 342-347.)

Burton's Travels.

Burton, R. J. — Zanzibar, and Two Months in East Africa. (BlacJcwood's
Edinburgh Magazine, 1858, No. 134, February, March, and May.)

Burton, Capt. R. J., and J. H. Speke. — A Coasting Yoyage from Mombasa
to the Pangani River ; Yisit to Sultan Kimwere. (Jotir. of the Roy.
Geog. Soc, vol. xxviii., 1858.)

Burtox, Capt. R. J. — The Lake Regions of Central Equatorial Africa, with
Notices of the Lunar Mountains and the Sources of the White Nile.
(Jour, of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xxix., 1858.)

Petermanx, a. — Atlas der neuesten Entdeckungen in Afrika, Gotha, i860.

Hassexsteix, B. — Memoire zur Karte von Inner- Afrika. (Geogr. Mitt.,
Ergä7izungshand, 2, p. i et seq.) Which see also for journalistic litera-
ture on Burton and Speke's first journey.

Hassexsteix, B. — Bemerkungen zur Karte der Region des Kilima-Ndscharo
und Kenia in Ost- Afrika. (Geogr. Mitteil., 1864, pp. 449-456.)

BuRTOX, R. J. — Zanzibar, City, Island, and Coast. London, 1872,

388 APPENDIX.

C. C. V. D. Decken's Expeditions, 1860-65.

Decken. — Auszug aus einem Brief des Herrn Baron Carl v. d. Decken an

seine Mutter sowie Briefe an Herrn Dr. Barth. (Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk.,

new edit., X., 1861, pp. 133, 229, 467; XL, 1861, p. 369; and XII.,

1862, p. 73.) Brief nebst Auszügen aus den Briefen von Dr. O. Kersten.

{Zeit. f. Erdk., XIV., 1863, pp. 41, 348; XV., p. 149; and XIX.,

1865, p. 153.)
IvEKSTEX, Dr. 0. — Briefliclie Mitteilung über seine Besteigung des Kilimanjaro

in Gesellschaft des Barons v. d. Decken. [Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk., new

edit., 1863, p. 141. Conf. Peter. Geoijr. Mitt., 1863, p. 99.)
Hose, Prof. G. — Beschreibung der von Herrn v. d. Decken gesammelten

Gebirgsarten aus Ost-Afrika grösztenteils vom Fusze des Kilima-ndjaro.

{Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk., new edit., XIV., 1863, p. 245.)
Roth, Dr. J. — Beschreibung der von Herrn v, d. Decken aus der Gegend

des Kilima-ndjaro mitgebrachten Gebirgsarten. {Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk.,

new edit., XV., 1863, p. 543.)
Kiepert, Dr. H. — Bemerkungen zu den Karten Baron C. v. d. Decken's :

(i) Das Schneegebirge. (2) Skizze seiner zweiten Reise von der Afrikan.

Ostküste zum Kilima-ndjaro. {Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk., new edit., XV., 1863,

P- 545-)
TiioiiNTOX, R. — Expedition to Kilimanjaro. {Proc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc,

vol. vi.. No. 2, p. 47.)
TuORNTOX, R. — Notes on a Journey to Kilimanjaro, made in Company of

the Baron v. d. Decken. {Journal of the Roy. Geog. Soc. of London.,

vol. XXXV., 1865, p. 15.)
Barth, Dr. H. — Das neue Unternehmen des Herrn Baron v. d. Decken.

{Zeit. f. Allg. Erdk., new edit., XVIII., 1865, p. 54. Conf. also Geogr.

Mitt, 1865, p. 266.)
Kerstex, Dr. O. — Die neuesten Nachrichten über die Schicksale der Expedi-
tion des Herrn Baron C. v. d. Decken. {Zeit. d. Ges. f. Erdk., I., 1866,

p. 97 and 160.)
Kerstex, Dr. 0. — lieber Kolonisation in Ost-Afrika. Mit Hervorhebung

ihrer Wichtigkeit für Deutschland. (Reprint from the Internaticnial

Revieio, 1867, vol ii.)
Deckex, C. C. vox der. — Reisen in Ost- Afrika in den Jahren 1859 bis 1865.

Bearbeitet von O. Kersten. In 2 Teilen oder 4 Bänden. Leipzig,

1869-79.
Kerstex, Dr. 0. — Tabellarische Uebersicht über die Geschichte Ostafrikas

(bis 1874). (Von der Decken's Reiseicerk, vol. ÜL, Pt. 3.)
Kerstex, Dr. O. — Astronomische, geodätische und Höhenmessungen im

mittleren Ost-Afrika, nebst kartographischen Bemerkungen. Leipzig

u. Heidelberg. 1879. (Reprint from v. d. Decken's Reisewerke, voh

iii. Pt. 3.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 389

Kerstex, Dr. 0. — Dem Andenken Carl Clans von der Decken's. (Deutsche
Kolonial-Zeitung, 1890, new edit., III., p. 245.)

Journeys of the Missionaries New and Wakefield.

New, Charles, and Wakefield, Letters from Revs. {The United Methodid
Free Churches'' Missionary Notices, 1864, p. 204 et seq.)

Wakefield, Rev. T. — Routes of Native Caravans from the Coast to the
Interior of Eastern Africa. {Journal of the Roy. Geog. Soc. of London,
vol. xl., 1870, pp. 303-339, with map.)

New, Rev. Cii., and R. Bushell. — Letter to Dr. Kirk on an Ascent of
Mount Kilima-Njaro. {Proc. of Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xvi., 1872, No. 3,
pp. 161-171. (Conf. Behyn's Geogr. Jahrbuch, 1872, p. 416, and Peterm.
Geogr. Mitt., 1873, P- i93-)

New, Ch. — Life, Wanderings, and Labours in Eastern Africa. With an
Account of the First Successful Ascent of the Equatorial Snow Moun-
tain Kilima-Njaro, and Remarks upon East African Slavery. London,
1874.

New, Rev. Ch. — Journey from the Pangani, via Wadigo, to Mombasa. {Proc.
of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xix., 1875, p. 317.)

Wakefield, Rev. L.^ — Wakefield's Fourth Journey to the Southern Galla
Country in 1877. {Pi'oc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc, 1882, vol. iv. No. 6.)

Journeys, Books, and Papers from 1870-1880.

Gaume. — Voyage ä la Cote Orientale d'Afrique pendant I'Annee 1S66. Par

R. P. Horner. Paris, 1872.
Delitsch, Dr. O. — Das äquatoriale Tafelland in Süd-Afrika nach dem Stande

unserer jetzigen Kenntnis. {Aus allen Weltteilen, Oct. 1872, p. 3.)
Hill, Clement. — Expedition up the River Wami. {Proc. of the Roy. Geog.

Soc, 1873.)
Frere, Sir H. Bartle. — A Few Remarks on Zanzibar and the East Coast

of Africa. {Proc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xvii, 1873, No. 5, p. 343)

(Conf. Globus, XXIIL, 1873, pp. 29, 318, 333, and XXIV., p. 73.)
Eltox, Capt. — From Natal to Zanzibar, with Descriptive Notes, of Zanzibar,

Mombasah, the Slave Trade, Sir Bartle Frere's Expedition, Sec. Durban,

1873-
Malcolm, Capt. — Der Ostafrikanische Flusz Wami. {Zeitschr. d. Gesellsrh.

f. Erdkunde. Berlin, VIIL, 1873, Pt. 4, p. 217.)
Horner. — Reisen in Zanguebar in den Jahren 1867 und 1870. Regensburg,

1873-
Belleville, A. — Journey to the Universities Mission Station of Magila, on
the Borders of the Usambara Country. {Proc. (f the Roy. Geog. Soc
vol. xxii., 1875-76, No. I, p. 74.)

390 APPENDIX.

Beschreibung der Ostküste von Afrika von der Pangani-Bucht bis Ras

Kimbiji. (Aimal. der Hydrographie und marit. Meteorolorjie, 1875,

Nos. 17-20.)
IIuTCHiNSOX, PI — The Best Trade Route to the Lake Regions of Central

Africa. London, 1877.
Schneider, G. — Die katholisclie Mission von Zanguebar. Thiitigkeit und

Reisen des P. Horner. Regensburg, 1877.
Raffray, A. — Voyage chez les Ouanika, sur la Cute Zanguebar. [Tour da

Monde, 1878, No. 905.)
Farler, F. p. — The Usambara Country in East Africa. (Proc. of the Ray.

Geog. Soc, 1879, No. 2, p. 81. Conf. Peterm. Mitt., 1879, P- ^'5-)
HiLDEBRAJVDT. — Uebersicht seiner Reisen in den Küstenländern von Arabien

und Ost- Afrika. (Verhandl. d. Gesellsch f. Erdhmde. Berlin, 1874,

No. 10, p. 269, and 1877, p. 284.)
IIiLDEBRAXDT, J. M. — Meine zweite Reise in Otit-Afrika (Globus, 1878,

No. 17, p. 269, No. 18, p. 279, No. 19, p. 296, and conf. Petermanns

Geogr. Mitt., 1878, p. 41 and 116.)
Hildebrandt, J. M. — Ethnographische Notizen über Wakamba und ihre

Nachbarn. [Zeitschr. für Ethnographie, 1878, No. 5.)
Kurtz, F. — J. M. Hildebrandt's Reisen in Ost-Afrika. ( Verhandl. d. Botan.

Vereins der Prov. Brandenburg, 1878.)
HiLDEBRAXDT. — Von Mombassa nach Kitui. (Zeitschr. d. Ges. f. Erdlc, vol.

xiv., 1879, p. 241 and 321.)
Hanx, J. — Einige Resultate neuerer meteorologischer und hypsometrischer

Beobachtungen im äquatorialen Ost-Afrika. (Pctenn. Geogr. Mitt.,

1880, p. 373.)
Johnston, K. — Map of the Lake Region of Eastern Africa, showing the

Sources of the Nile recently Discovered by Dr. Livingstone. Edinburgh

and London, 1870.
Hooker, J. D, — The Subalpine Vegetation of Kilima-Njaro. (Journal of the

Linnean Soc. of London, XIV., 1873-74.)
Johnston, K. — Notes of a Trip from Zanzibar to Usambara. (Proc. of the

Roy. Geog. Soc, 1879, p. 545.
Johnston, K. — Notes on the Rev. Thomas Wakefield's Map of Eastern

Africa. (Proc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. xvi., No. 2, p. 125.)

H. H. JoHNSTO>;'s Expedition.

Johnston, H. H. — The Kilima-Njaro Expedition. (Proc of the Roy. Geog.
Soc, 1885, VIL, No. 3, conf. 137. Peterm. Mitt., 1884, pp. 73, 152,

394-)
Johnston, H. H. — The Kilima-Njaro Expedition, with 6 Maps, London,

1886.

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 391

Johnston', H. H. — Die Kilima-Ndscharo-Expedition, mit 6 Karten und

zahlreichen Abbildungen. Leipzig, 1886.
Johnston, H. H. — The People of Eastern Equatorial Africa. [Journ. of the

Anthropol. Inst., London, 1885, vol. xv. p. 3.)
Johnston, H. H. — British Interests in Eastern Equatoi'ial Africa. {Scottish

Geofj. Magazine, 1885, vol. i., No. 5, p. 145, and Jouni. of the Manchester

Geog. Soc, 1885, vol. i. p. 160.)

Joseph Thomson's Expedition.

Thomson's Expedition zum Kenia u. s. w. Petennanns Mitt., 1880, pp. 32,

119» 139^ 158, 440, and 1882, pp. 315, 390.)
Thomson, J. — Through the Masai Country to Victoria Nyanza. (Proc. of the

Roy. Geog. Soc, 1884, YL, No. 12, p. 690.)
Thomson, J. — Notes on the Geology of TJsambara. {Proc. of the Roy. Geog.

Soc, 1S79, No. 9, p. 558.)
Thomson, J. — Through Masai Land. With 2 Maps. London, 1885.
Thomson, J. — Au Pays des Massai. With Map. Paris, 1886.
Thomson, J. — Durch Massai- Land. Mit 2 Karten. Leipzig, 1885.
Hooker and Oliver. — List of the Plants Collected by Mr. Thomson on the

Mountains of Eastern Equatorial Africa. {Jourji. Linn. Soc, vol. sxi.

p. 392.)
Thomson, J. — Altitudes in East Central Africa, compiled by S. S. Snyden.

{Journ. of the Roy. Geog. Soc, vol. 1. p. 268.)
Thomson, J. — Notes on the Geology of East Central Africa. {Nature, 1880,

p. 102.)
Thomson, J. — East Central Africa and its Commercial Outlook. {Scot. Geog.

Magazine, 1886, voL ii. No. IL p. 65.)

Dr. G. A. Fischer's Expeditions— 1880, 1883, and 1886.

Die Denhardt- Fischer 'sehe Expedition auf dem Tanaflusz. {Peterm. Geogr.
Mitt., 1878, pp. 73, 197, 317; 1879, p. 115; 1S80, p. 74; 1884, p.

314-)
Fischer, G. A. — Ueber die jetzigen Verhältnisse im südlichen Galla- Lande

und Wito. {Mitteil. d. Geogr. Ges., Hamburg, 1876-77, p. 347.)
Fischer, Dr. G. A. — Das Mapokomo-Land und seine Bewohner. {Mitt. der

Geogr. Ges. in Hamburg, 1878-79, and Peterm. Mitt, 1879, p. 434-)
Fischer, G. A. — Mehr Licht im dunkeln Weltteil. Betrachtungen über die

Kolonisation des tropischen Afrika unter besonderer Berücksichtigung

des Sansibar- Gebietes. Hamburg, 1885.
Fischer, G. A. — Reise in das äquatoriale Ostafrika. {Globus, 1884, XLV.

No. I, p. II, and Proc. Roy. Geog. Soc, 1884, VI. No. 2.)

392 APPENDIX.

Fischer's projektierte Expedition zum Samburu-See. (Peterm. Georjr. Mift.,

1882, p. 432.)
Fischer, G. A. — Bericht über die im Auftrage der Geographischen Gesell-
schaft in Hamburg unternommene Reise in das Massai-Land. (Mitf.

d. Geoijr. G eselisch., Hamburg, 1882-83, Part i, p. 36 ; and Peterm.

Miit, 1882, p. 432 ; 1883, p. 436 and 465 ; 1884, p. 232.)
tJeber Fischer's Reise nach dem Naivascha. {Peterm. Mitt, 1883, p. 436.)
Fischer, G. A. — lieber das Massai-Gebiet. ( Verhandl. d. Gesellsch. f.

Prdkunde, Berlin, 1884, XI. No. 2, p. 94. Conf. Peferm. Mitt., 1884,

p. 232.)
Fischer, G. A. — Das Massai-Land (Üst-Aequatorialafrika). Hamburg, 1885.
Fischer, G. A. — Vorläufiger Bericht über die Expedition zur Auffindung

Dr. Junkers. {Peterm. Mitt., 1886, p. 363. With map. Conf. also

PP- 59. 125, 150, 216, 254.)

Miscellaneous — 1 880-85.

Denhardt, Klemens. — Ostafrikanische Forschungs Unternehmen. {Peter-
manns Mitt., 1877, p. 33.)

Denhardt, Kl. — Erkundigungen im äquatorialen Ost- Afrika. {Peterm.
Geogr. Mitt., 1881, p. 11 and 130. With map.)

Denhardt, Kl. — Anleitung zu geographischen Arbeiten bei Forschungs-
reisen. {Mitteilungen des Vereins für Erdkunde, Leipzig, 1882.)

Price, W. S. — Notes from East Africa. {Church Miss. Gleaner, 1882, No.
104, p. 90.)

Price, W. S. — Journal in East Africa; Expedition from Frere Town to
Shimba. {Church Miss. Intell., 1882, VIL No. 83, p. 668.)

Last, J. T. — The Masai People and Country. {Proc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc,
1882, p. 224, and 1883, p. 517. With map.)

Work of the German African Association in Western Eqviatorial Africa.
{Proc. of the Hog. Geog. Soc, 1882, IV. No. 11, p. 678. With map.)

Krapf, J. L. — Mount Kenia. {Proc. Roy. Geog. Soc, 1882, IV. No. 12.

P- 747-)
Ledouix, Ch. — Explorateurs et Missionnaires dans I'Est de I'Afrique. {Bull.

de la Soc. de Geogr., 1883, II. Nos. 6, 10, 11.)
DuTRiEux. — Souvenirs d'une Exploration Medicale dans TAfrique Inter-
tropical. Paris, 1885.
Pringle, M. A — Towards the Mountains of the Moon. A Journey in East

Africa With map. London, 1884. (New edition, 1886.)
Keller, C. — Die tiergeographischen Verhältnisse in Ostafrika. {Mitt. d.

Ostschweiz. Geogr. -Komm.-Gesellschaft, 1884, No. i, p. i.)
GissiNG, C. E. — A Journey from Mombasa to Mounts Ndara and Kasigao.

{Proc. Roy. Geog. Soc, London, 1884, VI. No. 10, p. 551. With map.

Conf. Peterm. Mitt., 1884, p. 431.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 393

Wray, J. A., and J. W. Handford. — The Taita Mission. (Church Mission.

Intellig., 1884, IX. No. 106, p. 641.)
Wray, J. A., and E. A. Fitch. — The First Year of the Chagga Mission,

{Church Mission. Intellvj., 1886, XI. No. 127, p. 555.)

Count Teleki's Expedition — 1887 and 188S.

Teleki. — Die Expedition des Grafen Teleki in das Gebiet des Kilima
Ndschara und Kenia. {Mitt. d. K. K. Geogr. Gesellsch., Vienna, 1888,
XXI. p. 353, 441, 471, and XXII, 1889, p. 189. Conf. Ptferm. Miit.,
18S8, p. 371.)

HÖHNEL, L. VON. — Die Afrikareise des Grafen Samuel Teleki. {Mitt, der
Geogr. Gesellsch., Vienna, 1889, XXII. p. 531.)

HÖHNEL, L. VON. — Zur Hydrographie des Samburu-Seen-Gebietes. {Mitt. d.
K. K. Geogr. Gesellsch., Vienna, 1889.)

HöHNEL, L. VON. — Ueber die Hydrographische Zugehörigkeit des Rudolfsee-
Gebiets. {Peterm. Mitt., 1889, p. 233.)

Cecchi, A.^ — Esplorazione Teleki. {Boll. Soc. Geogr. Ital., 1889, II. p. 99.)

Wauters, a. J. — L'Esploration du Comte Teleki ; un Nouveau Reservoir du
Nil. {Mouvement Geogr., 1889, p. 13.)

HÖHNEL, L. VON. — Bergprofilsammlung der Graf Teleki'schen Afrika-Expedi-
tion 1887-88. Vienna, 1890.

HÖHNEL, Ludwig, Ritter von. — Ostäquatorial- Afrika zwischen Pangani vind
dem neu entdeckten Rudolf-See. Ergebnisse der Graf S. Teleki'schen
Expedition 1S87-88. {Ergänz.- Heft, No. 99 zu Petenn. Mitt., 1890.
With 3 maps.)

Journeys, Books, and Papers from 1885-90.

Only those works are mentioned which contribute new matter bearing on
the geographical exploitation of the region north of Pangani, including the
coast as far as Mombaza.

Lange, H. — Deutsche Forschungsreisen in Ostafrika. (Geogr. Rundschau,

1885, VIL No. 4, p. 1 45-)
Le Monnier, Fr. v. — Die neuesten Forschungen in Ost-Aequatorialafrika.

(Mitt, der Ic. Jr. Gesellsch. in Wie7i, 1885, XXVIII. No. 3, p. 135.)
Last, J. T. — Remarks on East Africa. (Proc. of the Roy. Geog. Soc, 1885,

VIL No. 7, p. 452.)
TOPPEN, K. — Handel und Handelsverbindungen Ostafrikas. (Mitteil. d.

Geogr. Ges., Hamburg, 1885-86, Part 3, p. 222.)
CouRMONT, R. DE. — Une Tournee dans le Vicariat Apostolique du Zanguebar.

{Missions Cathol, 1885, XVIL No. 851 et seq.).

394 APPENDIX.

Hanningtox, Bishop. — Visit to Chagga. {Church 3Iis4o7i. Intdlüj., August

18S5, X. No. 116.)
The Victoria Nyanza Mission and Bishop Hannington. {Clmrch Mission.

Soc, 1886.) With Portrait and Map. Extracts from the Diary and

Letters of the Right Rev. James Hannington, 1885.
The Story of the Uganda Mission and the Church Missionary Society's

Work in Eastern Equatorial Africa. Lond. 1886. With 22 Illustra-
tions and a Map.
Hanningtox.— The Last Journals of Bishop H., Aug. to Oct. 1886. {Chtirch

Mission. Soc, 1886.)
Wagner, J. — Deutsch-Ostafrika. Geschichte der Gesellschaft für Deutsche

Kolonisation und der Deutsch-Ostafrikanischen Gesellschaft. Berlin,

1886.
HoFFMANX, Kapit. zur See, Ivommand. S. M. Kriegsschiff "Möwe." — Die

Küste des Sultanats Zanzibar von Tunghi bis Saadani. {Annalen der

Hydrographie, 1S86, XIV. No. 7, pp. 304 and 308.)
Reise S. M. Kriegsschiff " Möwe " von Zanzibar nach Aden ; topograph, und

hydrogr. Beobachtungen. {Annalen der Hydrographie, 1886, XIV.

No. 9, p. 341.)
Smythies, Rich. — The Mountain Towns of the Bondei Country. {Central

Africa, 1886, No. 42, p. 75,)
ExGELHARDT, P., and J. V. Wexsierski. — Karte von Zentral-Ostafrika.

Berlin, 1886.
Weisz, K. — Meine Reise nach dem Kilima Ndjarogebiet. With Map. Berlin,

1886.
JÜHLKE, K. — Die wirtschaftliche Bedeutung Ostafrikas. {KolonialpoUtisdie

Korrespondenz, 1886, No. 24, p. 148.)
JC'HLKE, EL — Meine Wanderung nach dem Kilima-Ndscharo. {Köln. Zeit.,

1886, No. 153 et seq.)

Ebersteix, V. — Die Besteigung des Kilima-Ndjaro. {Kolonialpolit. Korres-

pond., 1887, No. 48 et seq.)
Küstenbeschreibung und Hydrographie Ostafrikas. {Anneden der Hydrogr.,

1887, XV. Part 6, p. 225.)

Langemak. — Rekognoszierungsfahrt S. M. Kanonenboot "Hyäne" an der
Ostküste von Afrika. {Annalen der Hydrogr., 1887, XV. No. 4, p. 134,
with map.)

TöPPEx, K. — Eine Reise nach dem Innern von Afrika. {Ausland, 1887, No.

33-)

Kiepert, H. — Polit. Uebersichtskarte von Ostafrika nach den neuesten Ver-
trägen und Besitzergreifungen. Berlin, 1887. {Petermanns Mitteil.,
1887, p. 123.)

Schmidt, Dr. W. K.— Erlebnisse in Ostafrika ; Reise durch Usambara.
{Kolonialpolit. Korresp., 1887, No. 16 et seq )

BoETERS, Korv.-Kapt., Kommand. S. M. Kriegsschiff " Möwe." — Beiträge

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 395

zur Küstenbeschreibung von Ostafrika. (Aniial. d. Hi/drogr., 1887, XV.
No. 12, p. 482.)
Smith, S. — Explorations in Zanzibar Dominions. (Siq^pl. Pap. Roy. Geog.
Soc, London, 18S7, II. No. i, with map. Conf. Peterin. Mitt., 1887,

P- I53-)
Offiz. Karte des Sultanats Sansibar und der deutschen Interessensphäre.

{Petermanns Geogr. Mitt., 1887, p. 123.)
Stuhlmaxx, Fr. — Bericht über eine Reise durch Usegua und Ungim. {Mitt.

der Geogr. Ges. in Hamburg, 1887-88, p. 143.)
Stuhlmanx, Fr. — Zweiter Bericht über eine nach Ostafrika unternommene

Keise. {Sitz.-Ber. der Kgl. Preusz. Älcad. d. Wissejisch., 1889, No. 33.)
Blackburn, J. — The Country between Mombasa and Mamboia. {Proc. Eoi/.

Geog. Soc, London, 1888, X. No. 2, p. 92.)
PtOHLFS, G. — Die Araber in Ostafrika. {Mänchener Neueste NachricJden,

October 1888.)
Peters, Dr. Karl. — Briefe ausTanga und Mandabucht. {Deutsche Kol.-Zeit.

1888, new edit., I. p. 18.)
BÜLOW, F. V. — Reiseskizzen und Tagebuchblätter aus Deutsch-Ostafrika.

Berlin, 1888.
Krenzler, E.— Ein Jahr in Ostafrika. With Map. Ulm, 1888.
Krenzler, E. — Sklaverei und Sklavenhandel in Ostafrika. (V.-VI. Jalires-

hericld d. Württemh. Vereins f. Handelsgeogr., 1888, p. 69.)
Rudolf Hellgreve. — Aus Deutsch-Ostafrika. Zwanzig Landschafts- und

Staffagebilder und ein Titelbild. Berlin, 188S.
Kettler, J. J.^ — Spezial- Wandkarte von Deutsch-Ostafrika. Weimar,

Geogr. Institut., 1888-89.
Schmidt, Dr. K. W. — Die Bodenverhältnisse Deutsch-Ostafrikas. {Peter-

7uanns Mitteil., 1889, p. 81.)
Seidel, H. — Die Araber in Ost- und Mittelafrika. {Globus, 1889, LV., p.

145)
Reich ARD, P. — Vorschläge zu einer praktischen Reiseausrüstung für Ost-

und Zentralafrika. {Zeitschr. d. Gesellsch. f. Erdk. zu Berlin, 1889,

No. I.)
Deutsche Admiralität. — Skizze der Untiefen und Inseln zwischen Masin

und der Comanez-Bai. (No. 109.) Berlin, 1S89.
Willoughby, J. — East Africa and its Big Game. London, 1889. {Peterm.

Mitt., 1890, Litteraturbericht, No. 352.)
Dilthey, R. — Der wirtschaftliche Wert von Deutsch-Ostafrika. Düsseldorf,

1889.
Baumann, Dr. Oskar. — Handel und Plantagenbau im tropischen Afrika.

{Oenterr. Monatsschr. f. d. Orient, 1889, XIV. p. i.)
Kettler, J. J. — Handkarte der deutschen Schutzgebiete in Ostafrika.

Weimar, 1889.
Englische Admiralitätskarten. — No. 663, Bay of Tanga; No. 664, East

396 APPENDIX.

Coast, Zanzi))ar, and Peinba ; No. 665, Mouibaza to PaLta Islam! ;

No. 666, Mombaza Harbour.
Ehlers, O. E. — Meine Besteigung des Kilima-Ndscharo. (Pefenn. Mitf.,

1889, p. 68; and Baumann, Mitteümigen des Oestcrr. Alpeni-rreins, 1889,

p. 121; also Purtscheller, Mitteil. d. D.-Oe. Alpenvereins, 1890, p. 103

and 169.
Ehlers, 0. E. — Einiges über die Wadschagga. (Deutsche Kol<miab:eitimr[,

18S9, p. 224.)
Ravensteix, E. G. — A MajT of a Part of Eastern Africa. 9 pages, London,

1889. (Conf. Petenn. Mitt., 1889, p. 231.)
Ehlers, O. E. — Briefe an die "Kölnische Zeitung," 1890, 14 and 15 Mai.
Förster, Brix.— Deutscb-Ostaf rika. Geographie und Geschichte der Kolonie.

Leipzig, 1890. (Conf. Peterm. Mitt, 1890. Litteraturber. No. 350.)
Holzapfel, P. — Bodenbau und Bewässerung des deutschen Ostafrika.

(Inaug.-Diss., Halle, 1890.)
Weisz, Prem.-Leut. — lieber Verkehrswege in Ostafrika. {Deutsche Kolonial-

zeitung, new edit., III., 1890, No. 10, p. 117, and No. 11, p. 134.)
Baumann, Dr. OsKAR. — Neueste Reisen in Deutsch-Ostafrika. 1890.

{Peterm. Mitt., 1890, Monatsbericht, Part 10, p. 255.)
Die Eisenbahn nach dem Kilimandscharo. {Deutsche Kolo7iial::eitu)i<j, new

edit., III., 1890, p. 221.)
Der Nordwesten Deutsch-Ostafrikas. {Deutsche Kolo7iial:celtung, new edit.,

IIL, 1890, p. 203.)
PiGOTT, J. R. W. — Journey to the Upper Tana. {Proc. «f the Roy. Geog.

Soc, 1890, p. 129. With Map.)

Dk. Haxs Meyer's Expeditions, 1887, 1888, and 1889.

Meyer, Dr. Hans. — Meine Besteigung des Kilimandscharo. {Peterm. Geogr.

Mitteil., 1887, No. XIL)
Meyer, Dr. H. — lieber seine Besteigung des Kilimandscharo. {Vcrh. d.

Gesellsch. für Erdkunde, Berlin, 1887, XIV., No. 10, p. 446.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Einiges liber Deutsch-Ostafrika. {Mitt. d. K. K. Geogr.

Ges., Wien, 1888, XXXL, p. 255.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Touristisches von meiner ersten Besteigung des Kilima-
ndscharo. {Mitt. d. Dtsch. u. Oesterr. Alj/enver., 1888, No. i.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Die Schneeverhältnisse am Kilima Ndscharo im Juli 18S7.

{Mitteil, des Vereins für Erdkunde, Leipzig, 1888, p. 277.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Briefwechsel mit einem ostafrikanischen Fürsten. {Deutsche

Kolonialzeitung, new edit., I., 1888, p. 92.)
Meyer, Dr. BL — Zum Schneedom des Kilima Ndscharo. 40 Photographien

aus Deutsch-Ostafrika, mit Text. Berlin, 1888.
Baümann, Dr. O. — Usambara. {Peterm. Mitt., 1889, XXXV., jj. 41, with

Map.)

BIBLIOGRAPHY. 397

Baumanx, Dr. 0. — Reise in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (Mitt. d. K. K. Geogr. Ges.,

Wien, 1889, XXXII., p. 29.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Letzte Expedition in Deutsch-Ostafrika. ( Verh. d. Gesell.

f. Erdk. Berlin, 1889, XVI., p. 83.)
Meter, Dr. H., und Dr. 0. Baumann. — Bericht über ihre Reise in Usambara.

{Mitteil, aus d. deutsch. Schutzgebiet, 1888, I., p. 199.)
Hyland, J. S. — lieber die Gesteine des Kilimandscharo und dessen Umge-
bung. (Mineralog. und joetrograjih. Mitteihuigen, hrsg. von G. Tschermak,

vol. X., Part 3, p. 203. Inaugural-Dissertation, Wien, 1888.)
Stein, B. — Flechten vom Kilimandscharo. (Jahresbericht d. schles. Gesellsch.

für Vaterland. Kultur ; botan. Sektion, 15 Jan. 188S.)
Stephani, J. — Lebermoose vom Kilimandscharo. {Hedwigia, 1888, Part 2.)
Müller, Dr. Karl. — Die Mooswelt des Kilimandscharo. (Flora, 1888,

No. 27.)
Baumann, Dr. O. — In Deutsch-Ostafrika wähi-end des Aufstandes. Wien,

1890. (Conf. Peterm. Mitt., 1S90, Litteraturbericht, No. 29.)
Meyer, Dr. IL, and L. Purtscheller. — Reise nach dem Kilima-Ndscharo,

(Pet era. Mitt., 1889, p. 183.)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Die Besteigung des Kilimandscharo. (Peterm. Mitt., 1890.

p. 15. With Map and Views of the Kibo Crater.)
Purtscheller, L. — Die Ersteigung des Kilimandscharo. (Mitteil, des D.

(Je. Alpe?i Vereins, 1890, p. 85.)
Meyer, Dr. IL — Das Bergland Ugueno und der westliche Kilimandscharo.

(Letter to Peterm. Mitt., 1890, p. 46. With Sketch Map.)
Meyer, D. IL — Ascent to the Summit of Kilima-njaro. (Proc. of Roy. Geog.

Hoc, 1890, June, pp. 331-345-)
Meyer, Dr. H. — Across East African Glaciers. London, 1S90. (English

edition of " Ostafrikanischen Gletscherfahrten.")

O D E X.

Abbott, Dr., scientist and explorer, 17,

i33> 322.
Albert Nyanza, 2.
Albert EdM'anl Nyanza, 3,
Ants, driver {Anomma arcens), 272.

White. See Termites.
Arab geograpiiers, 4, 5.
Arms and ammunition. See Outfit.

Native. See Weapons.
Ascents, mountain, 142, 152, 166, 171,

174, 178, 182.
Askari, 48.

Bagamoyo, changes at, 37.

Bandarin, 42, 2S8.

Barter, articles of, 40.

Beke, Dr., 2.

Bellows, native, 224.

Blood brotherhood. 206, 215, 249.

Buchanan, Mr., Brit. E. A. Co., 42, 288.

Bura Mountains, camp at (3° 30' 20" S.,

38° 6.9' E.), ^6.
Bushell, R., missionary and explorer, 11.
Bushiri, 39, 40, 292.

Caravan, discipline of, 44, 274.

Life, 49.

Mem bcrs of. See Expedition.

A slave, 64, 269.
Chaga. See Jagga.
Clianler, Mr., 20, 89, 94, 120, 322,
Climate, 325, 330.
Clouds, movements of, 73, 1S7.
Colonisation, remarks on, 31, 331 et seq.
Cooley, W. D., geographer, 8, 10.
Crater, the Kibo, 10, 147, 155, 184, 318.
Cultivated zone, the, 93-123, 247.

Cultivation, native methods of, 103.
Currency, native, 40, 117.
Currents, atmospheric, 73, 188, 307.
Customs, native. See Manners.

Dances, native, 261, 265.

Dawa. See Medicine.

Dehu River. See MuE.

Dhow, an Arab, 2S9.

Domestic animals, 118, 121.

Dress and ornaments, native, 86, u

211, 222.
Dum palm, the, 199.
Dwellings, native, 72, 86, 114, 212, 223.

East Africa, Christianity in, 92, 336.

Climate of, 330.

Commercial products of, 326, 335.

Conditions of trade in, 334, 333.

Colonial policy for, 341.

Commercial prospects of, 332-342.

England and Geinnany in, 332, 337.

Population of, 274, 330.

Rainfall, the, 329.

Soil and vegetation, 327, 350. See
also Flora.
Ehlers, Herr Otto, 17, 133.
Emin Pasha, 266, 288, 291.
Encisco, Fernandez de, 5.
Elephant, the, 125, 129, 190, 239, 244,256.
Eratosthenes, map of, 2.
Europeans at Kilimanjaro, 17, 133.
Expedition, the, outfit, 22-26.

Preliminary preparations, 27.

First hitch, 28.

Final preparations, 36-41.

399

400

INDEX.

Expedition, the —

Menibeis of, 30, 45-48.

Leaves Zanzibar, 41.

Start from tlie coast, 54,

Worries with porters, 59.

Deserters, 61.

Trying marches, 65.

A case of smallpox, 74-

Mutiny at Matate, 75.

Arrival at Taveta, S3.

Departure for Moji, 89.

Arrival in Mandara's, 94.

March to Marangu, 105.

Camp at Marangu, 108.

Excelsior ! 121.

Halfway camp, 133.

Camp at saddle plateau, 139.

First ascent of Kibo, 142.

Second ascent of Kibo, 152.

The summit reached, 154.

A false alarm, 158.

A run to Marangu, 159.

Fire ! 163.

Camp at Mawenzi, 164.

First ascent of Mawcnzi, 166.

Second ascent of Mawenzi, 171.

Third ascent of Mawenzi, 174.

Third ascent of Kibo, 178.

Fourth ascent of Kibo, 182.

Ead news, 186.

Return to Marangu, 191.

Troublesome neighbours, 191.

Trip to Ugweno, 195.

Reception at Mafurra's, 20?.

A disgusting incident, 214.

Reception at Na.guvu'.-, 213.

Return to Mareale's, 228.

Trip to Western Kilimanjaro, 231.

Trouble with guides, 234.

In the Western States —

Uru, 238.

Kiboso, 245.

Majame, 247.
Visit to ^landara's, 257.
Final return to Marangu, 25S.
Packing, 258.

Eastern Jagga States, 264.
A Masai scare, 267.
Start for the coast, 267.
The steppes in the rainy season, 268.
A Lilliputian army, 272.
An unpleasant discovery, 286.
Departure from Mombaza, 289.

Expedition, the —

Arrival at Zanzibar, 290.

Home, 294.
Explorers. See KILIMANJARO.

Fake, a traveller's, 53, 88.

Fauna, East African, 60, 78, 85, 93, 129,

135, 140, 189, 227, 235, 270.
Fern zone, the, 124.
Fischer, Dr. G. A., 11.
Flora, 55-58, 65, 67, 70, 77, 85, 90, 93, 126-

130, 131, 132, 135, 139, 143, 155, 167,

188, 233, 237, 244, 322.
Forest zone, the, 127-130, 132, 237, 242,

278, 282, 284, 323.
Forge, a native, 224, 259.
Four men's rock, the (3° 7' 14" S., 37° 5.2'

E.), 139-
Fremautle, Admiral, kindness of, 36, 42.
Freretown, 28S,

Game, East African, 16, 60, 69, 74, 79, 98,

129, 199, 271, 277.
Gamualla, Mount, 207.
Ascent of, 210.
View from, 210.
Geographical notes, 295-299, 309, 321.
Geological notes, 61, 62, 65, 70, 71, 73, 76,

90, 91, 131, 135, 13^, 155, 170, 182, 187,

203, 220, 299-304.
German E. A. Co., station of, in Moji, 89.
Gifts for native chiefs, 96, 109, 251.
Glaciers, 145, 179, 253, 317, 319.
Gore, rock reservoirs of, 61.
Guereza monkey, the, 200.
Guides, native, 124, 125, 127, 196, 232,

234-

Habari River, 91, 228, 264.
Half-way camp, the, 133.
Hannington, Bishop, 15.
Heaths, the, 132. See FLORA.
Himo, River, 91.

Camp at, 91, 198.
Hohnel, Lieut, von, 16.
Hospitality, missionary, 71, 257, 287.

Ice and snow on Kibo, 146, 147, 183, 312.
Icecap, the, 141, 144, 179, 183, 253, 313-316.

INDEX.

401

Ice-line, the, 314.

Indian Ocean, 2, 321.

Instruments, seien title. See OUFlT.

Iron ore, 205, 219.

Irrigation channels, 103, 106, 217, 243.

Jagga, 6, 93, 326.

Domestic animals of, 118, 121.

Extent of, 114.

Fertility of, 326.

Feuds, 112.

In its colonial aspect, 326, 342.

Natives of. See Wa-jagga,

Population of, 114.

Sceneiy of, 105, 107, 125.

States of, 107, 112, 114, 239, 264.

Warriors of, in.
Jala, crater lake of, 11.
Jip^, Lake, 82, 218.
Javia, Mount, 74, 273.
Johnston, Mr. H. H., 13, 322.

Kaiser Wilhelm's Peak, 154.

Kenia, Mount, 297.

Kersten, Dr. Otto, 9.

Kiberenge, Mount, 210.

Kibo, altitude of, 10, 148, 154, 298.

Appearance of, 141, 165, 173, 178, 252,
301, 302.

First ascent of, 142-149.

Second ascent of, 152-156.

Third ascent of, 178-180.

Fourth ascent of, 182-185.

Camp at (3° 7' 14" S., 37° 5.2' E.), 139.

Crater of, 147, 155, 184.

Fauna of. See KILIMANJARO.

Flora of. See Kilimanjaro.

From the west, 241, 252.

Geology of. See Kilimanjaro.

Preparations to ascend, 122.
Kiboso, State of, 235.
Kifinika River, 130.
Kikafu River, 250.
Kilema, State of, 7.
Kilimanjaro, first reference to, in history, 5.

Altitude of, 10, 148, 299.

Ascents of. See Kibo and Mawenzi.

Climate of, 325.

Cultivated zone, the, 93, 123, 247.

Kilimanjaro, discovery of, by Rebmann, 6.
Distribution of ice and snow on, 313-

319-
Exploration of, by Rebmann, 6.

By Kraflf, 8.

By Von der Decken and Thornton, 9.

By Von der Decken and Kersten, 9.

By NeM^ and Bushell, 11,

By Dr. Fischer, 11.

By Mr. Joseph Thomson, 12.

By Mr. H. H. Johnston, 13.

By Hannington, 15.

By Willoiighby and Harvey, 16.

By Count Teleki and Lieut, von
Höhnel, 16.

By Dr. Meyer, 17.

By Abbott and Ehlers, 17.

By l\Ir. Chanler and others, 20.
Fauna of, 93, 129, 189, 235.
Fern zone, the, 124.
Flora of, 11, 90, 93, 103, 126-129, 188,

233. 237. 244-

Forest zone, the, 127-130, 132, 237,
242, 278, 282, 284.

General description of, 322-326.

Geology of, 299-304 (conf. Geol. Notes).

Glaciers of, 145, 179, 253, 317, 319.

North side of, 98, 175, 178.

Physical history of, 304-307.

Postal arrangements, 160.

Products of, 103, 106, 326.

Rainfall and prevailing winds, 307-
312.

Springs and rivers, 319-321.

States of. See Jagga.

Views of, 81, 99, 241, 233.

AYest side of, 241, 258.
Kimasvenzi. See Mawenzi,
Kirerema River, 201.
Kirongaia, valley of , 211.
Kisinga River (3° 40' 54" S., 36° 49.2' E.),
208.

Lambo Mount, 210.
Lasso Hill, 107, 125.
Locusts, a plague of, 276.
Lumi River, 84, 218, 321.
Lunar Mountains. See Moon, Moun-
tains OF the.

2 C

402

INDEX.

Majame, camp at (3°," 13' 16" ö., 36" 44.7'
E.), State of, 6, 247.

The chief of, 250.

Kibo from, 252.
Makessa Hills, 90, 227.
Maiidara, chief of Moji, 11, 15, 89.

Message from, 89.

Interviews with, 96, 100.

Residence of, 95.

Appearance and character of, 96, loi.

Ditliculties with, 98.

His political actions, 15, loi.

Manners and customs, native, 86, 87,
III, 254, 255, 206, 221, 242.
Marangu, state of (3° 18' 14" S., 37° 6.2'
E.), arrival iu, 107.

Camp in, 108, 119.

Natives of, iii.

Chief of. See Makeale.

Life in, 116, 119, 192, 229.

Market in, 116.

Troubles in, 15S, 192.
March, a day's, 49.

JMareale, chief of Marangu, interviews
with, 108, 118, 259.

His wives, 110.

His I'esidence, 109.

His past liistory, 114.

Appearances, character, 108, 115, 259.

Hospitality of, 108.

Misunderstanding with, 158.
Market, a native, 116, 248.
Masai, the, 9S, 178.

Native fear of, 86, 201, 202, 267.

The great checkte production, 87,223.
Matate (3° 30' 17" S., 38^ 8.9' E.), 273.
Maungu mountains, 55.
Mawenzi, altitude of, 10, 169, 170, 298.

Appearance of, 165, 168, 173, 202.

Camp at (3" 6' 36" S., 36° 50.2' E.), 164.

First ascent of, 166-170.

Second ascent of, 171- 174.

Third ascent of, 174-177.

Fauna of. See Kilimanjaro.

Flora of, 167, 188. See also Kilima-
njaro.

Crater of, 171.
Medicine, 215,
Meru, Älount, 97, 297.
Mf urro River. See LuMl.
Mimicry in nature, 79.

Missionaries, English, in East Africa, 54,

71, 91, 94, 276, 334, 336.
Moji (^^ 18' 5" S., 37" 3.9' E.), arrival in, 94.
Europeans in, 91.
Mission station in, 94.
Station of German East Africa Com-
pany, 94.
Troublesome natives of, 97.
Mombaza (4° 2' 57" S. , 39° 41.2' E.), 42, 289.
Moon, Mountains of the, i.

Theories as to their identity, 2-5.
Moshi. See Moji.
Mud River, 107, 201, 202.
Mwika, State of {3° 17' 42" S., 36° 15.9' E.),

264.
Mwini Amiui, 47, 139, 142, 151, 157, 165,
1 86.

N.
Naguvu, camp at (3^ 41' 47" S., 37° 5.9'

E.), 212.
Nassai rivulet, 199, 202.
Ndara, camp at (3° 30' 21" S., 38° 23.4' E.),

71-

Mountains of (3° 30' 25" S., 38° 23.4'
E.), 72, 275.
N6v6, 313, 316.

Ngovi, Mount (3° 34' 30" S., 37° 8.9' E.), 218.
New, Rev. Charles, 11.
Ngu rungas, 62, 282.
Ngombere River, 246.
Nicknames, Swahili, 279.
Nile, the, ancient and modern, 3, 4.

Sources of, i, 2.

Lakes, i, 2.

Ptolemy's map of, 3, 4.

Arab maps of, 4, 5.

Observations, scientific, 149, 150.
Oratory, native, iii.
Ornaments, native. See Dress.
Outfit, an explorer's, 22.

Arms and ammunition, 24.

Clothing, 22.

Furniture, 23.

INIountaineering equipments, 123.

Scientific equipments, 25, 26.

Pangani River. See Rufu.
Parasitic cones, 92, 107, 130, 165, 176, 300.
Paths, native, 113, 195, 270.

INDEX.

403

Products, commercial, 103, 106, 117, 326.

Native values of, 117.
Ptolemy, map of, 1-4.
Puitsclieller, Herr Ludwig, 27, 145, 167,
183. 184.

1!.

Rabat, mission station, 6, 54, 287.

Railway, the Kilimanjaro, 339.

Rainfall, the, 73, 307, 312.

Rainy season, the, 312, 327.

Ratzel fjlacier, the, 145.

Rau River, 244, 257.

Ravenstein, Mr. E. G., 2.

Rebmann, Rev. Johann, 6, 231.

Reservoirs, rock. See Ngurungas.

Rivers of Kilimanjaro. See KILIMANJARO.

Rua River, 127.

Rufu River, 201, 202, 321.

Ruwenzori, 2, 297.

Saddle Plateau, camp at the, 139, 165

(3° 7' 14" S., 37° 5.2' E.).
Sagala mission, the, 72, 275.
Samburu (3° 46' 40" S., 39" 12.7' E.), 61.
Saranka, glen of the, 257.
Scenery of Jagga, 105, 107.

Mountain, 119, 134, 137, 138, 144.

Steppe, 67, 77, 268.
Schneequelle. See SPRING IN THE SNOW.
Scnecio Johnstoni, 133, 135, 235.
Shira Hills, the, 254, 299.
Small-pox, 74.

Smelting iron, native method of, 224.
Somdl bodyguard, 30.
Sportsmen, English and American, 87.
Spring in the snow, the, 135.
Stanley, Mr. H. M., 2, 266, 291, 322, 376.
Starlight, the Alpine, 152, 170.
Steifensand, Herr, German Vice-consul at

Zanzibar, 33, 290.
Steppes, the, flora of. See FLORA.

Fauna of. See Fauna.

Inhabitants of, 75, 274.

In the rainy season, 268, 277.
Swahili courtiers, 257.

Porters, 48, 291.

Taita, Mountains of, 55, 270, 276.
Wilderness of, 55.

Taro (3° 44' 48" S., 39° 5.9' E.), 55, 282.
Taveta (3° 24' 26" S., 27° 27.7' E.), arrival
at, 83.

Description of, 84.

Life in, 88.

Mr. Chanler's camp at, 89.

Sunday at, 265.
Teleki, Count, 16, 322.
Temperature, notes on, 188, 190, 201.
Termites, 160, 283.
Thomson, Mr. Joseph, 12, 305.
Thornton, Mr., geologist and explorer, 9.
Thunderstorms, 201, 203, 233, 236, 281.
Tortoiseshell rocks, 137, 166.
Transit, means of, 334.

Slow rate of, 275, 283, 334.
Tree-steppes, the, 69, 77.

Ugweno, trip to, 195.

Vegetation of, 203.

Products of, 205, 206, 208, 212, 219,
223.

Natives of, 205, 209, 211, 215, 221.

Population of, 228.

Geography of, 220.

Geology of, 220.

Ethnology of, 221.

Considered colonially, 225.
Ulcers, prevalence of, 229.
Uru, state of, 6.

Camp at (3° 16' 13" S., 36" 56.7' E.), 7.

Ai-rival in, 289.

Chief of, 241.

Scener}' of, 241.
Usangi Mountains, 210.
Useri, the, 158.

Vegetation. See Flora.

Victoria Nyanza, the, 2.

Von der Decken, journeys of, 9, 10, 231,

322.
Von Höhnel, Lieut., 16, 322.

Wa-duruma, the, 274, 285.

Wagweno, the, 221.

Wa-jagga, the, 9S, 103, iii, 227.

404

INDEX.

Warm sprinj^s, 307.

Wajimba Hills, the, 90, 227.

Wa-Kalid, 201.

Wa-ndorobbo, 178.

Wa-nika, 274.

Wapagazi, 48.

War, effects of the, in East Africa, 34-40.

Wars, native, 112.

Wa-taita, 75, 274.

Water supply, the East African, 56, 61.

Wa-tuta, the, as soldiers, 38.

Weapons, native, 86, in, 158, 222, 260.

Weri-weri River, 246, 304.
Wilderness, the East African, 55, 67.

Zanzibar, first view of, 32.

Arrival at, 33.

Changes at, 34.

Life in, 291.

Christmasjit, 292.

The Sultan of, 293.
" Zulus." See Wa-tuta.

THE END.

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