Chapter X

THE EAST AFRICAN EXPEDITION OF 1857-1859.

‘All truth must be ultimately salutary, and all deception
pernicious.’—FRANCIS JEFFREY.

At length came the moment for departure—June 17, 1858. We had learned what we wanted to learn on the seaboard, whilst at Zanzibar Island no further information was to be procured. The rains had ended on June 5: the harvest was coming on, and trading parties were returning to the coast—every day three or four boats passed outward-bound under the windows of the Consulate.[49] Our preparations were hurriedly made. Cogent reasons, however, compelled me to move quamprimum, and evidently delay, even for a week, might have been fatal to my project. Lieut.-Col. Hamerton’s health rapidly declined: he was compelled to lead the life of a recluse, and his ever-increasing weakness favoured the cause of our ill-wishers. Local politics became more confused, and the succession troubles more imminent, whilst the Sayyid’s Government, deceived by our silence during the rains into a belief that the Panga-ni fever had cooled our ardour, lost all interest in the enterprise, and required to be aroused from its apathy by a stiff reminder.

My old friend, the late Mr James Macqueen, has declared that the expedition was ‘organized upon erroneous and fallacious principles—with large parties of armed men, with numerous attendants, and extensive supplies.’ I can reply only that my model was the normal coast-caravan, and certainly with less apparatus we should have made less progress. We were not, however, favoured by fortune; and, as Baron Melchior de Grimm sagely observes, ‘there is nothing in this life’—especially in African travel—‘but luck, good or bad.’ The Kafilah-bashi was still Said bin Salim, who, upon receiving from Lieut.-Col. Hamerton an advance of $300, and the promise of a gold watch after return, in case of good conduct, at once pleaded a mortgage upon his plantations to the extent of $500. We were compelled to compound the matter for $250, before he could precede us to the coast, with his four slave musketeers, one lad, and two girls. The Baloch escort was, according to popular rumour, picked up in the Bazar: it began with a dozen, and it ended with seven muskets, not including the monocular Jemadar Mallok. They wanted everything imaginable,—debts to be paid, rice, lead, gunpowder, light matchlocks, $8 for an ass, and slaves to serve them. The Banyan Ramji supplied us with nine ruffians, whose only object was to lay out their, or his, money as profitably as possible in slaves; indeed, this seemed to be the end and aim of our whole native party. Upon the coast we engaged as porters 36 Unyamwezi negroes, men who usually behave well, but who are uncommonly ready to follow bad example. As the number was deficient, we supplied the place of more with some 30 baggage-asses, which added not a little to our troubles and losses.

Lieut.-Col. Hamerton listened with pleasure to my suggestion that he might at once change air, from the close, foul, fetid town, and superintend our departure from the coast. The Sayyid’s kindness was unwearied: he came to bid us adieu, and manned for us, with a crew of 20, his own corvette, the Artemise, Captain Mohammed bin Khamis. The latter having been educated in England, where he had learned to observe and survey, and imbued by ‘letters’ with the restless impulse of European civilization, had once proposed to the Royal Geographical Society himself to explore the Lake Regions; and had he been trustworthy, he might have done work valuable as that of Capt. ‘Montgomerie’s Pandits.’ His father, Khamisi wa Tani, was the ‘intelligent Sawahili or Mohammedan native of the Eastern coast of Africa,’ who had so notably cajoled Mr Cooley. This ‘mild and unassuming man’s’ antecedents were of the worst description. Born at Lamu, he became headman of the drummers at Zanzibar, and afterwards a slaver, according to M. Guillain, who terms him ‘spirituel et rusé coquin.’ In this capacity he ‘had travelled much on the mainland, he had visited many distant parts of the East, and could converse in fourteen languages.’ Turpilucricupidus then became Capt. Owen’s interpreter along the Eastern coasts of Arabia and Africa. His voyage in 1835 to London, where Shaykh Khamis bin Usman at once became an ‘African Prince,’ arose not ‘for the purpose of assorting the first cargoes shipped direct to Zanzibar,’ but from the stern necessity of temporarily leaving that Island with his head in loco, he having defrauded his master, the Sayyid, to the extent of $18,000. His ingenuity did not fail him in our country, where his revelations touching the Lake Regions and the unknown interior were delivered and chronicled with a gravity which excites laughter. Returning home, ‘the Liar,’ as he was popularly termed by his countrymen, received the Sayyid’s pardon. He then became a kind of lackey and maître d’hotel, factotum and Figaro in native houses, the ‘palace’ included, when Europeans were entertained. He has ever since devoted his talents to making himself as wealthy, and his friends as poor, as possible. I had been especially warned against him, on account of the prominent part which he took in spreading reports which led to the murder of M. Maizan, and it is not pleasant to see one’s fellow-countrymen so notably ‘humbugged.’

We found a general rendezvous at Kaole Urembo, which was attended by Ladha Damha, Chief of the Customs, the ‘’Ifrít’ Ramji, and the ex-Sarhang ‘General Tom:’ the Messrs Oswald also ran over in their four-gun schooner, the Electric Flash. On June 26, 1857, we bade adieu to Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton, whose distressing alternations of insomnia, debility, and irritability had been apparently increased by the voyage. He dropped a tear as he said farewell, and solemnly blessed us, adding that we should meet no more in this world, and that he quitted it without regret. Thus it proved. He struggled against his fate, but he succumbed on July 5, the victim of a chronic liver complaint. Various reports of his death reached us in the interior, but it was not confirmed by letter till eleven months afterwards.

The work of exploring now began in real earnest. I have, however, no intention of inflicting upon the reader a rechauffé of our expedition, which has been described by me in four volumes,[50] and of which notices have been given in another three,[51] by Captains Speke and Grant. My principal object in alluding to them is to offer the judgment and the after-thoughts matured by a whole decade, as well as to show what has been done since. The risk of this, the first attempt, has been stated to be nil by a man who never trusted himself a mile away from the coast, and whose tenderness for his personal safety has ever been more than notorious. In writing our adventures I was careful not to make a sensation of danger; but future travellers, warned by the fate of MM. Maizan and Roscher, not to speak of Lieut. Stroyan, of Baron von der Decken’s party, nor of M. von Heuglin in the Somali country, and the detention of Dr Livingstone, will do well not to think that, when about to explore Central Africa, they are setting out upon a mere promenade. The repeated complaints respecting our petty troubles, which to readers appeared exaggerated, were true to my feeling at the time. The death of Sayyid Saíd had been our first blow; the second was the non-arrival of Dr Steinhaeuser; and the third was the loss of our excellent friend Lieut.-Col. Hamerton, whose presence at head-quarters would have forwarded our views in various ways. I have preserved copies of letters written to Banyans and others, who, after fair promises, completely neglected us. M. Ladislaus Cochet and Capt. Mansfield did their best; but as we had not taken counsel with them before departure, their efforts were, of course, limited. And the cholera which, unknown to us, had fallen upon the Island, decimating its population, naturally enough prevented the sufferers from bestowing attention upon a distant enterprise. The neglect, however, told upon our escort, and to manage them would have taxed the wisdom of Solomon and the patience of Job. The monoculous Jemadar, shortly after our return, persuaded Baron von der Decken to appoint him chief of his party when on route from Kilwa to the Nyassa or Southern Lake: as might be expected, that expedition did not reach half way. Concerning the ‘Sons of Ramji’ I find amongst my papers the following memo.:

‘Msene district, Jan. 14, 1858.

‘To Sheth Ramji,

‘The full term for which he engaged the eight slaves, Kidogo,
Jako, Mbaruk, Waledi, Mboni, Muhinna, Buyuni, and Hayja, having
now expired, we give them their dismissal. From the commencement
of the march their insolence of manner and their independence of
action have been so troublesome to us, and so disastrous to our
progress, that we feel no compunction in thus summarily dismissing
them.

(Signed) ‘CAPTAINS BURTON & SPEKE.’

Under different circumstances we should have been spared the hardship and suffering of all ‘up-hill work,’ of labouring against the stream of events. We might then easily have returned via Egypt to Europe, as I firmly intended, and as my companion—aided by the experience of the past, and travelling under the most favourable auspices—was able to do on his second expedition. Once thoroughly laid open, no African road is difficult, unless temporary obstacles, such as famines or bandit raids, oppose progress, and the hard crust of the coast being broken, the interior offers comparatively few obstacles. But, I repeat, in wayfaring, as in warfare, opportunity is everything: better an ounce of fortune’s favours than a ton of genius or merit.

We followed the Arab line of traffic, first laid open to Lake Tanganyika by Sayf bin Said el Muameri, about 1825. The existence of a beaten path in Africa has its advantages and its disadvantages. The natives are accustomed to travellers; they no longer perpetually attribute to them supernatural and pernicious powers, nor do they, except amongst the worst tribes, expect every manner of evil to follow the portent: it is not difficult to engage hands, nor is it impossible to collect information concerning regions which cannot be visited. At the same time, contact with the slave-dealer has increased cupidity and has diminished hospitality: the African loses all sense of savage honour, without learning to replace it by commercial honesty, and all his ingenuity is devoted to the contrivance and the carrying out of ‘avanies.’ But where, on the other hand, the explorer must hew his own way—such was the case with Paul du Chaillu from the Gaboon region, and with myself up the Congo river—and where there is no prescriptive right of transit even for pay, the adventure waxes far more difficult and dangerous. Here we see the African at home, an unmitigated savage, unmodified by acquaintance with the outer world, dwelling in the presence of his brethren, and rich in all the contrarieties of the racial character. His suspicions and his desires are at once aroused. His horror of new things struggles with his wish to make the most of them; he has no precedent for his demands, and consequently he has no sense of their absurdity. A caravan is to him a ‘Doummoulafong,’ or thing sent to be eaten, as Mungo Park’s second expedition was called. A Portuguese officer has been asked $120 by the Wamakúa for permission to visit a hill behind Mozambique, distant some 25 miles from the sea. At the Yellalah, or Rapids of the Congo river, I was required to pay, before leave to advance could be given, a fee in goods which would have amounted to £200. And expense is not the main obstacle to the success of these exceptional expeditions: the merest accident with a fire-arm may render progress impossible, and may endanger the lives of the whole party.

The most troublesome features of the beaten path to the white face are the exorbitant demands of the negro chiefs. They know that the slave-dealer, if over-taxed, will open some other and rival line. But they see the European for the first time; they never expect, nor perhaps do they desire, ever to see him again; and their only object is to gauge his generosity by extracting from him as much as possible. This is the severest trial of temper, for the explorer well knows that the end of his outfit is the end of his journey. Whilst he recognizes the absolute necessity of economy, the disappointed chief, in high dudgeon, urges his rights, perhaps with threats; and certainly causes all manner of delays and difficulties. The native in charge of the caravan fears awkward consequences, especially at times of war or draught, of famine or pestilence, and complies with the demand in secret, if prevented from acting openly, out of his own purse if not from the public funds. The over-worked traveller, scolding, storming, and getting up temper to blood-heat when required, cannot watch every string of beads or yard of cloth; and some day a report is brought to him that he is running short, when perhaps the most interesting part of his journey is within sight, and yet, for want of means, cannot be explored.

We found also an unmitigated evil in the universal practice of desertion. The fickle and inconsequent negro slave must, they say, run away once in his life, and, like the liar of the Persian Joe Miller, he will do so at the most awkward of times. The impulsive, irritable, and violent Murungwanah (libertus) is equally apt to abscond, especially after disputes with his fellows, and he generally adds injury to injury by carrying away his pack. The undisciplinable free porters disappear en masse if commons wax short, if loads be too heavy, if a fight be threatened, or if wasting of ammunition be forbidden. Under similar circumstances the turbulent Baloch mutiny and march off. During our 18 months’ march there was not, in the party of 80, an individual who did not at some time or other desert or attempt to desert us. The Second Expedition, despite all its advantages of more abundant supplies and of ample support from Zanzibar, fared not a whit better: we find in it 123 desertions duly chronicled.

For three months and a half our heart-wearing work was cheered only by two stimulants, the traveller’s delight in seeing new scenes unfold themselves before his eyes and the sense of doing a something lastingly useful to geographers. We were also opening for Europeans a new road into the heart of Africa, a region boundless in commercial resources, and bounded in commercial development only by the stereotyped barbarism of its inhabitants; and we hoped that those who might follow us would be able to turn many of the obstacles through which we were compelled to cut a way. In November, 1857, we perforce halted for rest and to reorganize the party at Kazeh in Unyamwezi, some 350 direct geographical miles from the coast. The site was the most pleasant that we had hitherto seen, a plateau (S. lat. 5° and E. long. G. 33°) in the depths of the Tropics, but made temperate by altitude (3000 to 4000 feet above sea level), studded with hills rising abruptly from fertile grassy plains, and broken by patches of cultivation, by valleys, and by forests of the richest growth.

At this half-way house the Expedition was hospitably received by the warm-hearted Arabs, Snay bin Amir, Saíd bin Majid, old Saíd bin Ali, the sons of Salim bin Rashid, Muhinna bin Sulayman, and other notabilities of the great central mart. They housed us and supplied all our wants—I know not what we should have done without their friendly aid—and the geographical information which they gave me directly led to what many have held to be the most important feature of the exploration. The Second Expedition also records its obligations in the matter of hands and rations. It found, however, Kazeh turned, into an agricultural depôt, the neighbouring villages ruined, and the people starving. The merchants had refused to pay a tax imposed upon them by Manwa Sera, son of the Fundi Kira, lord of Unyanyembe, in the days when I visited it, and the young chief, who was very popular, had been supplanted by his half-brother Msikiwa. Hence a war resulting in the death of my poor friend, the brave Snay bin Amir, who, being too proud and perhaps not young enough to run from the hosts of enemies, lay down when abandoned by his negroes and took his chance, that is to say, was slaughtered. Manwa Sera then threatened to attack Kazeh, and the Arabs begged Capt. Speke not to abandon hosts, whose warm and generous hospitality he repeatedly acknowledges. The reply was that ‘he had a duty to perform as well as themselves, and that in a day or two he would be off.’ Some men would not have treated so lightly a heavy debt of gratitude, but such compunctions are often fatal to success. Capt. Speke, I doubt not, really believed that ‘the interests of old England were at stake:’ he had not hesitated for a moment in throwing over a Himalayan friend who was to have accompanied him, nor did he deem himself otherwise but justified in separating from a companion subject to African fever recurring every fortnight.

We were detained a month at Kazeh. Purple skies, westerly gales, and furious thunderstorms, showed that the Masika Mku, or Great Rains, were about to break, and the change was evident after the high cold easterly winds which, during the six months of rainless season, sweep the elevated basin. Our gang was paid off and another was not easily collected: porters during the dry, these men became peasants in the wet weather. With infinite trouble, and only by the aid of the Arabs, we were able to leave Kazeh on December 8, during the height of the S. West monsoon. The march of 180 direct geographical miles was to us the most disastrous of all. The downfall was copious and unintermitting, storms burst over us with such thunder and lightning as I have never witnessed before or since, the flooding rivers necessitated ferry-boats, and the land, declining and draining to the westward, became one Great Dismal Swamp. Deduced in strength by persistent fevers, we could not resist the drenchings and sunburnings, the long day marches and the nights spent in unhealthy and sometimes deserted villages. My companion complained of blindness which hardly permitted him to read a watch, and I suddenly found myself helpless with paraplegia, a paralysis of the extremities, which, according to Capt. Smee, often follows febrile attacks at Zanzibar.

After a total of some 537 rectilinear geographical miles[52] from the coast, we ascended, on Feb. 13, 1858, the well-wooded range which bounds the eastern waters of the ‘Sea of Ujiji,’ and from the western declivity we sighted—very imperfectly, it must be owned—the fair expanse of a lake whose name was then unknown to us. Some months afterwards, when reading Dr Livingstone’s first expedition, I found (chap. xxiv.) that the traveller meeting a party of Zanzibar Arabs at Naliele in the centre of the continent, heard of the ‘Tanganyenka,’ a ‘large shallow lake over which canoes were punted.’ At that time, however, I had sent to England the picturesque native name ‘Tanganyika,’ the ‘meeting-place of waters.’[53] The sight was a cordial: this one gleam of success consoled us, made us forget the petty annoyances, the endless worry, the hardship, and the sickness which we had endured for it; and we felt a sensible relief from the grinding care which the prospect of failure must ever present.

Yet even the bright view of the blue waters had its dark side: we had left the Louisa behind, and we saw no way of navigating this lake. Reaching, on February 14, 1858, Kawele of the Ujiji district, a market village and a depot for ivory and slaves on the eastern side, and about the northern third of the Tanganyika, we housed our goods and began to cast about for canoes. The only dau or sailing craft belonged to Shaykh Hamid, an Arab trader then living at Kasenge, a little insular station near the Western shore. After making all necessary inquiries, I despatched, on May 3, my companion with a party of 26 men: he crossed the Tanganyika, but in vain—the proprietor would not convoy us round the lake, though we offered him £100 for a fortnight’s cruise. Captain Speke here met with a strange accident: a beetle crept into his ear, and being awkwardly killed, caused for 6 to 7 months deafness and suppuration: it acted, however, as a counter-irritant, and to a certain extent gave him back his sight. My companion afterwards complained loudly of being unable to accompany Hamid to the Uruwwa[54] district, where merchants traded for ivory and copper: we should thus have spanned half the Continent, and our line could easily have been connected with Dr Livingstone’s route through Angola. As, however, on that journey Hamid and all his slaves were murdered, and their property was plundered by the people, my companion had not much to regret.

Hamid, moreover, gave information which made us wild to reach the upper end of the Tanganyika Lake. He had been so near its northern head that he had felt the outward drift of the

stream. The rains were still heavy; but as our supplies were running short, we resolved to make the attempt in any way. Kannena, the Chief of Ujiji, proved himself an ill-disposed and ungovernable savage, ever attempting to thwart our plans, and evidently holding that we were quite at his mercy. But wishing to bring ivory from Uvira, he was persuaded to escort us with two canoes. Our excursion northwards occupied 15 days, eight being the usual time; and it was not a ‘pleasure-trip.’

At Uvira my hopes of discovering the Western Nile Reservoir, and of solving the problem which has puzzled some 30 centuries, were rudely dashed to the ground. The Warundi savages, who had stopped Hamid near the northern end of the lake, were hostile to the Wajiji, and we could not proceed to the north where the mountains walling-in the water seemed to converge. Similarly the second expedition, during five months spent with the King of Ugande, was unable to sight the ‘Victoria Nyanza,’ distant five hours’ walk. Capt. Speke ascended perhaps 150 feet, but from so low an altitude he could obtain no general view of the land north of the Tanganyika, and he laid down a narrow valley. Presently receiving a visit from the three stalwart sons of the Sultan Maruta, the subject of the mysterious stream which all my informants, Arab as well as African, had made to issue from the lake, and which for months we had looked upon as the western head-stream of the Nile, was at once brought forward. All declared (probably falsely) that they had visited it; all asserted that the Rusizi river enters into, instead of flowing from, the Tanganyika, and presently Sidi Bombay, by way of the coldest consolation (‘little goat, don’t die, spring comes!’), declared that Hamid had meant the reverse of what he said. I felt sick at heart. The African’s account of stream-direction is often diametrically opposed to fact; seldom the Arab’s—in this point I differ totally from Capt. Speke. But our Wajiji would not suffer us to remain at Uvira, much less to penetrate northwards: we were compelled hurriedly to return; and thus, as has before been related, the mystery remained unsolved. I distinctly deny that any ‘misleading by my instructions from the Royal Geographical Society as to the position of the White Nile,’ made me unconscious of the vast importance of ascertaining the direction of the Rusizi river. The fact is, we did our best to reach it, and we failed.

I returned home with the conviction that the Tanganyika is a still lake. This view, however, appeared a strange hydrographical puzzle to geographers, who were not slow to combat it. Messrs Vaux and Galton, and my kind friend Mr Findlay, who has never ceased to impress the public with what he holds to be the true state of the case, doubted that an immense reservoir 250 miles long, situated at a considerable altitude in the African zone of almost constant rain, whose potable waters are free of saline substances washed down by its tributaries from the area of drainage, and which shows no marks of great accession of level, can maintain these conditions without efflux. The most natural explanation was to make the Marungu, Luapula, or Runangwa river, at the southern extremity of the Tanganyika, act outlet, and drain it to the Nyassa or Kilwa Lake, bearing S. 55° East, and distant 340 to 350 miles. The universal testimony of the natives to its being an influent formed in the mind of my companion (Journal, p. 90) six years afterwards ‘the most conclusive argument that it does run out of the lake.’ It did not appear equally conclusive to others.

The absence of all connection, however, between the Tanganyika and the Nyassa Lakes was proved by Dr Livingstone’s second expedition and by the excellent paper ‘on the probable ultimate sources of the Nile’ (Mr Alexander Geo. Findlay, F.R.G.S., read June 3, 1867). The latter showed that no considerable stream draining an area of at least 3000 square British miles, or a country as large as England and France combined, enters Nyassa from the north. Since that time Dr Livingstone has placed (Letters to Dr Kirk, July 8, 1868, and to the Earl of Clarendon, July, 1868) the Nile sources between S. lat. 10° and 12°, north of the great Serra Muxinga of the Portuguese travellers Lacerda, Monteiro, and Gamitto, nearly in the position assigned to them by Ptolemy uncorrected for latitude.[55] About 400 miles south of the southernmost extremity of the Nyanza or Northern Lake, he finds ‘not one source, but upwards of 20 of them,’ and he is under the impression that he had stood on the water-shed between the Zambeze and either the Congo or the Nile. Mr Keith Johnston jun.’s excellent paper[56] shows that the Serra Muxinga, of which more presently, may represent that portion of the Rocky Mountains which send forth the Missouri, the Columbia, and the Colorado. And he apparently would drain the northern fall to the Congo river, whereas in the Mittheilungen it takes the direction of the Albert Nyassa, and the labours of Capt. George, R.N., would throw the water into the Tanganyika.

Thus the theory of the southern effluent lost favour, and that which made the Rusizi a northern influent soon shared the same fate. In 1863 Capt. Speke converted it into a lake or a ‘broad,’ of which he had heard the year before, lying between the Tanganyika and the Luta Nzige, Mwutan or Albert Nyassa. Presently Sir Samuel Baker (1864) caused the southern extremity of the Luta Nzige, which he placed 2200 feet above sea-level, to over-lap the Rusizi. ‘I therefore claim,’ concludes Mr Findlay, ‘for Lake Tanganyika the honour of being the SOUTHERNMOST RESERVOIR OF THE NILE until some more positive evidence, by actual observation, shall otherwise determine it.’

To this view the geographical public offered two objections. The first was that the northern end of the Tanganyika is encircled by the ‘concave of the Mountains of the Moon.’ This was easily removed, as the reader of these pages will see, by a collation of the several maps forwarded by the Expedition from the interior. The first, bearing date May, 1858, was sent from Kazeh on July 2, 1858: it showed the results of our discovery (in February, 1858) and of the information supplied to me by narratio obliqua through the Arabs and Africans of Unyanyembe. Having no theory to support, it laid down, what we saw or thought we saw, an open longitudinal valley running northwards from the Tanganyika Lake. But that which my companion brought home in June, 1859, bore signs of great change, especially in a confused mass of mountains completely investing the northern third of the long narrow crevasse: this by degrees resolved itself into a huge horseshoe, which was incontinently dubbed the ‘Mountains of the Moon, about 6000 feet.’ In his second expedition (Journal, p. 263) Capt. Speke declares that the range had been laid down ‘solely on scientific geographical reasons,’ in fact, out of the depths of his self-consciousness, and he supplemented it with a Lake Rusizi. I saw it growing up under his hands, as copy followed copy: I repeatedly objected to it, yet it managed to deform the maps of Central Africa for years afterwards. It threw us once more back into the romantic geography of the Arabs, who wove into one line Jebel Kumri, and transferred north of the equator the scattered ranges which Ptolemy (iv. 9) disposed at the antarctic end of his habitable Africa. These, going from east to west, are represented by Barditon Oros (S. lat. 16°) Meskhe or Ineskki, the Region of Agysimba (S. lat. 13°), Xipha or Ziphar (S. lat. 8° 20′ 5″), Daukhis Oros (S. lat. 13°), and Ion, the mountain of the Hesperian Æthiopians (S. lat. 8° 20′ 5″).

The second objection was the elevation of the Tanganyika Lake. Its low level in the great central plateau proved, however, to be a mere mistake: only one observation was made, and that gave but 1844 feet above the sea. But presently Mr Findlay found a pencil memorandum by Capt. Speke, showing that when he again reached the coast our thermometer, a common bath instrument, used because all the others had been broken, boiled at 214° (F.) instead of 212° (F.). Moreover, the observations of Sir Samuel Baker, carefully compared with those of the second expedition, decisively proved that 1000 feet must be added, placing the Tanganyika and the Nyanza on nearly the same level. Again, Dr Livingstone reports from Bangweolo (July, 1868) of the Liemba Lake, that he would have set it down as an arm of the Tanganyika, but that its surface is 2800 feet above sea-level, ‘while Speke makes it 1844 only.’ Finally, the great African traveller, who has now been long resident in the regions west of the Tanganyika Lake, always writes of it as if he considered the connection between it and the Luta Nzige established. Thus the altitude of Lake Tanganyika was raised to 2800 feet, which would easily carry its waters to the Nile. ‘It may appear strange,’ as Mr Galton has remarked, ‘that there should be an error of a thousand feet of altitude suspected in the observations of an explorer, but the method of operating in uncivilized countries is quite different from that employed at home.’ Evidently Capt. Speke allowed the altitude of the lake to lie uncorrected for the same reason which made him raise his ‘Lunæ montes.’ This will also answer M. Parthey (June 2, 1864, Royal Academy of Sciences, Berlin).

A few words concerning the Moon Mountain, in which are the Ptolemeian Nile sources. It is placed in S. lat. 12° 30′, which, by applying the reduction as before proposed, we should convert to S. lat. 6° 30′, and between East long. 57° and 67°, which, if taken from S. Antonio (Antão), as the late Mr Hogg suggested, would be = E. long. G. 30° to 40.° Its northern slope drains to the lake under the parallels of S. lat. 6° and 7°, and separated by about 8° of meridional distance. In many maps is added a third, or equatorial lake, which may be the Baharingo, or Baringo, and indeed in chap. xvii. (lib. i.) we find a plural form τὰς λίμνας, possibly showing a knowledge of two large and sundry smaller features. The great Unyamwezi Upland, using the name at its fullest extent, is bounded both north and south by huge latitudinal blocks and chains of mountains. The equatorial is the Highland of Karagwah, extending eastward to the Æthiopic Olympus Kilima-njaro. The southern, corresponding with Ptolemy’s parallels, is the great chain and plateau, whose apex is the Serra Muxinga or Muchingwe, named by the explorer Dr de Lacerda Cordelheira Antonina, in honour of his prince. Lying in about S. lat. 12°, this feature, ranging from 3000 to 6000 feet high, may evidently be the divide of the Nile, the Congo, and Zambezean basins; whilst the north-eastern projection feeds with four considerable streams the Lake Liemba, discovered by Dr Livingstone on April 2, 1867, and supposed to connect with the Tanganyika by the River Marungu. The altitude of the Serra was estimated in 1831 by Messrs Monteiro and Gamitto at a Portuguese league (= about 19,700 feet) above sea-level, palpably exaggerated, as in winter (August 10) neither ice nor snow was found upon it. They describe the head as nearly always enveloped in clouds, and as by far the loftiest summit in that part of Africa; the profile rises steeply and abruptly from the table-land, commanding an extensive prospect northward, and the ridge is broken by terrible and dangerous precipices. Snow in this part of the continent may be alluded to by João de Barros, who declares that in the Matouca country, though situated between the equator and the tropic of Capricorn, the natives die of cold. Later Portuguese historians declare the Lupata to be a snowy range, probably referring, not to the gorge of that name, but to the great block with which it is connected. Dr Livingstone represents this, his latest discovery, to cover a space south of the Tanganyika some 350 miles square, dotted with lakes, and traversed on the eastern side by the River Chambeze, which was first mentioned by Dr de Lacerda, and which has hitherto been confounded with the Zambeze. The Greek term ‘Mountain of the Moon’ may, I have already suggested, be derived from ‘Unyamwezi,’ an empire whose position between the Tanganyika and the Nyanza group is laid down in the map of Duarte Lopez (A. D. 1578–1587). The name of this extensive region is still contracted upon the coast to Mwezi, meaning the Moon, and thus we might translate Ptolemy, Mountain of Unyamwezi. Similarly, the ancients derived the Erythrean Sea from the Sea of Edom and of Himyar, both signifying Red: Diascorias was a corruption of Dwipa Sokotra, and, to quote no more, Dr Beke has shown how the Ptolemeian Iabadíou (Java-dwipa) became Barley Island without growing barley.[57]

Finally, if we reject Unyamwezi and Muxinga as the original Lunar Mountains, we must seek the latter with Dr Beke in the icy peaks of the Æthiopic Olympus, prolonged to the Highlands of Karagwah.

A longer delay at Uvira than we had intended greatly improved my health: the state of our finances, however, compelled us to set out without delay from Ujiji to Kazeh. The rains had ceased on May 15, and the return (June 11) by a straighter and more southerly road, was far less unpleasant than the up-march. After a short interval for repose, and for recovering his sight and hearing, Capt. Speke volunteered to explore a lake reported to lie north, and known to the Arabs as ‘Ukerewe,’ or Island-land. I had heard of it in Zanzibar Island as a water called ‘Karagoa,’ parallel with and one month west of the Sea of Ujiji. A signal disappointment at the ‘Ziwa’[58] of Ugogo, which proved to be a mere pond, made me suspect the informants: yet Snay bin Amir and Musa Mzuri had both visited the mountain regions to its west, and their observations were represented in the sketch map, 1858, which, I repeat, is far less incorrect than the exaggerated growth of 1859.[59] I was, however, delighted with the prospect of a month’s leisure for inquiry amongst the intelligent Arabs. It was also necessary to copy out notes, which ill health had left in confusion, and to learn something about the southern as well as the northern regions. Moreover, if truth must be told, I sighed for the

‘Beata Solitudo
Sola Beatitude’

of the Pisan Cortosa. A critic in Colburn’s New Monthly Magazine (The Nile Basin), remarks, ‘It was when travelling with Burton that Speke first discovered Lake Nyanza, and his less fortunate fellow-traveller seems never to have forgiven the brilliancy of an achievement which left him comparatively in the shade.’ Mean, indeed, must be the man who thus gratuitously imputes the meanest of motives to another! What interest can the leader of an expedition have in reducing his field of exploration, of not doing his best, of not discovering as much as Fate allows him to discover? May he not expect, like the general of an army, at least to share in the glory won by the arms of his lieutenants? Capt. Speke was provided with a gang of 34 guards, servants, and porters: he much wanted the little Shaykh Said, but the latter wept privily at the prospect of meeting death by want and hardship, and I allowed him to remain at Kazeh, lest his intrigues might work mischief. Though my companion was a match for ‘Sidi Bombay,’ he was a child in the hands of the tricky Arab.

Captain Speke made a most spirited march. On August 3rd he sighted the ‘Nyanza Lake,’ to which he gave 3740 feet of altitude; and he returned, after covering in 47 days (June 9th to August 25th) 300 direct and 425 indirect geographical miles. He brought back the information that this great equatorial reservoir was known to the people as Nyanza, a generic term which, like Nyassa, means a sea, a stream, or a lake. Standing 250 feet above its level, he saw 20 to 22 (not ‘over a hundred’) miles of surface, hardly enough to command a liquid horizon between the islets which he called Mazita, Ukerewe, and Majid.

Presently, by comparing Arab accounts, I found in Capt. Speke’s diary sundry uncertainties of detail, such as making Mazita, and perhaps Ukewere, insular instead of peninsular features. Nor could I hear a word beyond the old legend current amongst African tribes, from Somaliland to the Mozambique, touching white men and ships navigating a lake or a river in the interior. The Kazeh people, as I ascertained by consulting them, Knoblecher in hand, equally ignored the familiar tribal names of Nyam-Nyam, Rungo, Mundu, Dor, Jur, Kek, Nuehr, and the Shilluks, West, with the Dinkas, East of the Nile. Their Bari was simply ‘Bahri’—Accolæ of the sea or river. But Capt. Speke had discovered on ‘that broad open lake,’ not only the ‘sources of some great river,’ not only the Palus Orientalis Nili, but ‘_The_ Sources of the Nile’: he had raised the veil of Isis, he had settled for ever the ‘mystery of old Nilus’ origin.’ The subject soon proved too sore for discussion, and evidently at that time my companion began to prepare for a future campaign, by lavishly retouching his maps, and by barring the Upper Tanganyika from any possible connection with the northern basin.

During the second expedition Capt. Speke left Kazeh in May, 1861, and travelled to the N. West, without ever sighting the ‘broad surface.’ Living with King Rumanika of Karagwah, he might have visited it, but he did not. He then turned nearly due north, and on January 28th, 1862, he first viewed, from Mashonde, a water which he instinctively determined to be _the_ Nyanza. In vain the petty chief Makaka (Journal, p. 130) assured him that ‘there were two lakes, and not one’: as vainly others made the Mwerango, or Kafu river, rise from a range in the centre of the so-called lake, and ‘did not know what Nyanza he meant.’ These, and other remarks naïvely recorded, could not disperse foregone conclusions; and the explorer never attempted to ascertain by inspection if his preconceived ideas were correct.

We can therefore accept only the southern part of the Nyanza discovered by Capt. Speke, when I despatched him from Kazeh; and the marshy reed-margined and probably shallow N. Western water, which he sighted in January and July, 1862. The result is a blank occupying nearly 29,900 square miles, and of the recognized and official form of the assumed Victoria Nyanza I may observe, that it is a triangle, whose arms, viewed by one standing at the southern apex, trended N. East and N. West; the extremities, 240 miles distant, being connected arbitrarily by a horizontal base running nearly due East-West a little north of the Equator. Finally, Captain Speke made his own lake a physical impossibility. Within little more than 60 miles from east to west he has given it three main effluents, the Mwerango, the Luajerri, and the Nile or Napoleon channel, to say nothing of the Myo Myanza, the Murchison Creek, the Usoga stream, together with the Asúa river from the Baringo. It is wonderful that our 19th century maps continue to print such a phenomenon. What will posterity say of this magnum opus?

After Captain Speke’s return we debated, in frequent conferences with the Arabs, the advisability of remaining at Kazeh till fresh supplies could be procured from Zanzibar, thus enabling us to visit the northern kingdoms—Karagwah, Uganda, and Unyoro. Our good friends unanimously advised us to reserve the exploration for another journey. The lake was, unlike the Tanganyika, unnavigated; to travel along the S. Eastern shores was, they said, impossible owing to the ferocity of the pastoral tribes, and the mutual jealousies of great despots on the western banks would necessitate a large outfit, and perhaps years of delay. Their advice appearing sound, I applied myself to the ways and means of marching upon Kilwa, thus avoiding a return by the same road, which led us into Unyamwezi. But as the former project was dismissed because we could not depend upon assistance from Zanzibar, so the latter was frustrated by the unmanageable obstinacy of our porters. I wanted exceptional resources for bribing them into compliance, and our leave of absence having ended, it was judged imprudent to attempt that expenditure of time, which in these regions alone compensates for extensive outlay of capital.

The East African Expedition bade adieu to Unyanyembe on Sept. 26, 1858, and after a march eventless except in delays and difficulties caused by desertion and sickness, by the drought and the famine then desolating the land, it reached in early February, 1859, the little maritime village Konduchi. From the slope of red hill we hailed with delight the first gleam of the Indian Ocean, and my companion thanked me with effusion for the efforts which I had made in enabling him to travel with me. Verily ‘there were nights and days before us,’ and we thought little of what presently was to be the consequence!

The results of the East African Expedition of 1857–1859, which, with the aid of many friends—their names will be found in the preceding pages—was organized wholly by myself, may thus be briefly summed up. When ignorant of the country and knowing little of its languages, preceded only by a French officer, who was murdered shortly after he landed, and under other immense disadvantages, especially the deaths of Sayyid Said and Lieut.-Colonel Hamerton, I led the most disorderly of caravans into the heart of Intertropical Africa, and succeeded in discovering the Tanganyika, and the southern portion of what is now called the Victoria Nyanza Lake. The road was thus thoroughly laid open: those who would follow me had only to read vol. xxxi. (Journal of the Royal Geographical Society) and the ‘Lake Regions of Central Africa,’ to learn all they require concerning seasons and sickness, industry and commerce, what outfit and material were necessary, what guides, escort, and porters were wanted, what obstacles might be expected, and what facilities would probably offer themselves. My labours thus rendered easy the ingress of future expeditions, which had only to tread in my steps. Dr Beke, the traveller who deserves all praise for having suggested a feasible way to explore the Nile Sources, kindly found ‘reason to call this emphatically a memorable Expedition.’ My friend Mr Findlay’s estimate is still more flattering: ‘The first East African Expedition has had scant justice done to it of late, seeing that it was the finest harvest, and that by much the most abundant one, of those brilliant discoveries in Eastern Africa so eminently fostered by the Royal Geographical Society.’

One wise in his generation whispered into my ear before returning to England, ‘Boldly assert that you have discovered the source of the Nile—if you are right, tant mieux, if wrong, you will have made your game before the mistake is found out!’ I need hardly explain why the advice was rejected, nor does it befit me to complain that Honesty, in my case at least, has not hitherto proved the best policy. Meruisse satis!

* * * * *

Since these lines were penned Time has again proved himself the Avenger. The valuable notes on the Geography of Eastern Africa forwarded by Mr Wakefield enable me to show, almost with a certainty, that the 29,900 square miles assigned as the area to the ‘Victoria Nyanza’ contain at least four, and probably a greater number, of separate waters.

Mr Keith Johnston, jun., who appended remarks to the paper in question, observes (p. 333) that ‘the arguments which Captain Burton used in recommending a division of the Nyanza had not a sufficient basis of proof to give them moment, is shown by the acceptance of the lake as one sheet of water by the whole geographical world.’ The mapper will readily understand that it is much more convenient to have a lake neatly traced, and painted sky-blue like the Damascus swamps, than to split it up as I did: a volume published by the late Mr Macqueen and myself (The Nile Basin. London: Tinsleys, 1864) gave a sketch of what was actually seen by the second expedition, and the aspect of disjecta membra is not inviting. Afterwards, however (p. 334), Mr Johnston remarks, ‘Captain Burton’s recommendation would seem to receive some slight support from the new information obtained by Mr Wakefield,’ to which I add that the language might have been less hesitating. The ‘Notes on the Geography of Eastern Africa’ establish the existence of two new lakes.

The first is that which we named from hearsay, Bahari ya Ngo or Bahari Ngo (Sea, i. e. water of Ngo): Mr Wakefield prefers ‘Baríngo, or _canoe_,’ possibly so called from its form.[60] Route No. 5, from ‘Lake Nyanza’ to Lake Baringo, proves conclusively that Lake Baringo is _not_ a vast salt marsh, or perhaps a sort of back-water, ‘connected with the Victoria Nyanza by a strait, at the same distance from the East of Ripon Falls as the Katonga river is to the West.’ Nor is it a lake without effluent: in this matter it has evidently been confused with the lately heard of saline Lake Naïrvasha or Balibali, S. West of Doenyo Ebor (Mont Blanc), alias Kenia. Native report supplies it with the Northern Nyarus, an outfall, the old Thumbiri or Tubirih, and Meri, afterwards called Usua, and Asua, the latter two words probably corrupted from Nyarus.

Far more important, however, is the new lake which Mr Wakefield’s informant, Sadi bin Ahedi, ignoring Nyanza, calls ‘Nyanja’ and ‘Bahari ya Pili,’ or second Sea, not, as we are expressly warned, because inland of the first sea or Indian Ocean, but clearly because leading to a first, and, lastly, called ‘Bahari ya Ukára,’ this being the name of the region on the East shore. Here we at once detect the origin of the ancient Garava, and the modern Ukerewe which the Wanyamwezi applied to the oriental portion of the supposed ‘Victoria Nyanza.’ Respecting the width of the Nyanja or Ukára Lake, Sadi declared that it could be crossed by canoes in 6 full days, paddling from sunrise to sunset, and that if the men went right on, night and day, the voyage was accomplished in three days. But the native craft used upon those dangerous mountain waters never dare to cross them: the voyager may rush over the narrow parts of the Tanganyika, but nothing would induce him to attempt the physical impossibility of navigating without chart or compass beyond reach and sight of shore. It is an absurdity to suppose a canoe-cruise across; it is evident that a coasting-cruise is meant. The total hours, assuming the day to be 12 without halts, would amount to 72. Upon the Tanganyika I estimated the rate at little more than 2 knots an hour, which would make in round numbers 140 miles. Protracting this course from Bahari-ni, Sadi’s terminus on the Eastern shore, at the rate of 3 knots an hour, and without allowing for the windings of the shore, the end would strike the entrance of ‘Jordan Nullah,’ off the ‘Bengal Archipelago.’ But even 140 miles require reduction: an estimate of the mean amount of error distributed over the whole of Mr Wakefield’s Routes gives an exaggeration of 1.24 : 1; and of course when laying down the length of these distant and dangerous cruises exaggeration would be excessive. We may therefore fairly assume the semi-circumference of the Ukara Lake at 120 miles, and the total circumference at 240.

As regards its breadth we read (p. 310): ‘Standing on the eastern shore Sadi said he could descry nothing of land in a western direction except the very faint outline of a mountain summit far, far away on the horizon.’ This passage is valuable. The level and sandy eastern shore of the Ukara or Nyanja Lake about Bahari-ni, where Sadi sighted it, is in E. long. (G.) 35° 15′. The easternmost, that is to say, the nearest point of the Karagwah highlands, or, as Captain Speke writes it, Karague, is in E. long. (G.) 32° 30′. Thus the minimum width is 165 miles, while man’s vision would hardly cover a score. Here, again, we have room for a double instead of a single lake. When Sadi declared that he ‘travelled 60 days (marches?) along the shore without perceiving any signs of its termination,’ he spoke wildly, as Africans will, and when he reported that the natives with whom he conversed were unable to give him any information about its northern or southern limit, we can only infer that in those parts of the African interior neither tribes nor individuals trust themselves in strange lands, especially when they had a chance of meeting the Wasuku. A lake 120 direct geographical miles in length, that is to say, a little shorter than the Baringo is supposed to be, will amply satisfy all requirements in this matter. Finally, if Sadi’s report be correct, namely, that eight or nine years ago (before 1867?) a large vessel with sails, and a crew of white egg-eaters—Africans have learnt by some curious process to connect Europeans with oöphagy—navigated the waters, it is evident that this lake cannot be Captain Speke’s Nyanza, and that the visitors cannot have made it viâ his ‘White Nile,’ with its immense obstructions. But it may be that of which he heard (Journal, p. 333) from the ‘Kidi officers,’ who reported a high mountain to rise behind the Asua (Nyarus?) river, and the existence of a lake navigated by the Gallas in very large vessels. We now understand why King Mtesa (p. 294) offered to send the traveller home in one month by a frequented route, doubtless through the Wamasai and the other tribes living between the Nyanja and the Nyanza. Thus Irungu, Chief of Uganda, expressed his surprise (Journal, p. 187) that Captain Speke had come all the way round to Uganda when he could have taken the short and safe direct route—across the middle of his lake—viâ Umasai and Usoga, by which an Arab caravan had travelled.

The third water is evidently the Nyanza, of which I first heard at Kazeh, whence Captain Speke was despatched on a reconnoitre between July 9th and August 25th, 1858. After returning, he reported that this water, being nearly flush with the surface of the level country to the south, bears signs of overflowing for some 13 miles during the rains. The second expedition showed no traces of flood on the marshy lands to the north and N. West of the lake. This fact, combined with 400 feet difference of level in the surface of the ‘Victoria Nyanza,’ speaks for itself. We are justified in suspecting a fourth lake, along whose banks Capt. Speke travelled northwards to Uganda: and there must be more than one, if all his effluents be correctly laid down.

Briefly to resume. Mr Wakefield’s very valuable notes teach us—

1. That the Baringo is a lake distinct from the ‘Victoria Nyanza,’ with a northern effluent, the Nyarus, and therefore it is fresh water.

2. That the Nyanja, Ukara, Ukerewe, Garawa, or Bahari ya Pili, is a long, narrow formation, perhaps 30 miles broad, with 240 miles of circumference, and possibly drained to the Nile by a navigable channel.

3. That the Nyanza is a water, probably a swamp, but evidently distinct from the two mentioned above, flooding the lands to the south, showing no signs of depth, and swelling during the low season of the Nile, and vice versâ.

And finally we cannot but conclude that the Northern and N. Western portions of the so-called ‘Victoria Nyanza’ must be divided into three independent broads or lakes, one of them marshy, reed-margined, and probably shallow, in order to account for the three effluents within a little more than 60 miles.

NOTE.

I have printed, as an Appendix to Volume I., a paper which was read out by me before the Royal Geographical Society, on Monday, December 11, 1871. It dwells at greater length upon the interesting theme here sketched, and it enters into certain philological details which may be interesting to students of Kisawahili.

-----

Footnote 49:

Mr Cooley (Geography, p. 29) informs us that the native porters start
on their down journey ‘in March or April, probably at the end of the
heavy rains, and return in September.’ He thus greatly restricts the
period. Of course the season varies to some extent at every part; but,
as a rule, to March and April add May and June, and for September read
November and December. Dr Krapf is less incorrect (Travels, &c., p.
421); M. Guillain is equally so (vol. iii. 374).

Footnote 50:

The Lake Regions of Central Africa, 2 vols. 8vo. Longmans, 1860.
Memoir on the Lake Regions of Central Equatorial Africa, Journal
of the Royal Geographical Society, 1 vol. No. xxxi. of 1860. The
Nile Basin, 1 vol. Tinsleys. London, 1869.

Footnote 51:

Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile. Blackwood,
1863. What led to the Discovery of the Source of the Nile.
Blackwood, 1864. A Walk across Africa, by Capt. Grant. Blackwood,
1864. The papers inform me that Captain now Col. Grant, C. B., is
engaged upon a botanical work which will illustrate the valuable
collection brought home by him in 1863.

Footnote 52:

The first expedition placed Kazeh in E. long. (G.) 33° 3′ 0″
The second ” ” ” 33 1 34
——— ——— ———
Difference 0 1 26
——— ——— ———
The first expedition placed Ujiji in E. long. (G.) 30° 0’ 0″
The second ” ” ” 29 54 30
——— ——— ———
Difference 0 5 30

These close results place Captain Speke’s positions beyond all
possibility of cavil.

Footnote 53:

In Mr Wakefield’s routes (loc. cit.) we find ‘To
Mtanganyíko.—Kisáwahílí, meaning the place of _mingling_ or
_mixture_ (rendezvous).’ I cannot, however, but suspect that the
word is a misprint for Mtanganyika. At any rate it will completely
support my assertions versus Mr Cooley and the town of Zanganica,
where no such things as towns exist.

Footnote 54:

Mr Cooley (p. 13, Memoir of the Lake Regions of East Africa
reviewed) declares that ‘the name Warua is the Sawáhily equivalent
of Milúa, and that the Miluana, as the Awembe are also called,
signifies mixed or half-bred Milúa;’ he moreover identifies them
with the ‘Alunda, who, with the Arungo, including apparently the
Wakatata or Wakatanga, are all Wathembwe or subjects of the
Cazembe.’ He finds that I have written Uruwwa, ‘with greater show
of originality and rigorous Arabism,’ the fact being that I wrote
down what the Arabs told me. Col. J. A. Grant (Athenæum, April 9,
1870) identifies Uruwwa with Dr Livingstone’s Rua, where tribes
live ‘in under-ground houses said to be 30 miles long.’

Footnote 55:

Mr Findlay remarks, ‘The length of the Nile’s course from
Gondokoro to its mouth, following its major winding, is about 2400
geog. miles (= 2780 British miles). From Gondokoro, near to which
it was generally agreed, ten years ago, that the southernmost head
of the Nile would be found, to the south end of the Tanganyika
Lake, is 830 geog. miles (= 960 British miles). If the source be
near the Muxinga range, it must be 270 geog. miles (= 312 British
miles) still farther south, so that its total course will be 3500
geog. (= 4050 British) miles, almost unparalleled by any other
river’ (loc. cit. note. p. 16).

Footnote 56:

‘A map of the Lake Regions of Eastern Africa, showing the Sources
of the Nile recently discovered by Dr Livingstone, with Notes on
the Exploration of this Region, its physical Features, Climate,
and Population.’ London, 1870.

Footnote 57:

The Sources of the Nile (p. 83). London: Madden, 1860.

Footnote 58:

This word means a lake or pond, not the ‘river of the lake.’ Its
plural is not Wáziwa—wa being the animate prefix—but Maziwa (e. g.
Maziwa Mengi, many lakes). It is not used by the Wasawahili to
signify the south. An Arab would not make the plural Ziwáhah (but
Ziwát or Ziwáín, if he attempted such barbarism); nor would he
want to use the adjective ‘Ziwáí.’ These five errors occur in as
many lines. (Geography of N’yassi, 24, 25.)

Footnote 59:

Yet, curious to say, the map of May, 1858, was drawn from hearsay,
and that of June, 1859, after the southern part of the lake
region, now known as the ‘Victoria Nyanza,’ had been discovered by
Capt. Speke. In the former, however, he added the ‘Mountains of
the Moon,’ and prolonged the long parallelogram from N. lat. 2° to
N. lat. 3° 20′, a country known by the reports of the Egyptian
expedition of 1840, of Dr Peney, and of MM. Miami and Vincent
Angelo.

Footnote 60:

This birds-eye view and comprehensive idea of shape regarding a
feature so considerable does not appear to me African.