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Volume 6099_15
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Tarzan of the Apes by Edgar Rice Burroughs


Stanley and Livingstone at Ujiji

Stanley and Livingstone at Ujiji— Cruise on Lake Tanganyika — Giants of African
Discovery — Meeting Enemies Upon the Shores — Geographers wlio Never Travel
— Dusky Forms Dodging From Rock to Rock — Mountains Seven Thousand Feet
High —Important Discovery — Livingstone's Desperate Resolve — Stanley Leaves
for Zanzibar — Affecting Parting Between the Two Great Explorers — Living-
stone's Intended Route — Later Search Expeditions — Livingstone's Sad and
Romantic History — Timely Arrival of Reinforcements from Stanley — Start for
the Southwest at Last Made — Without Food for Eight Days— Westward Once
More— Continued Plunging In and Out of Morasses — Turbid Rivers and Miry
Swamps — Natives Afraid of the White Man —Extract from the " Last Journals " —
Crossing the Chambeze — Gigantic Difficulties Encountered— Livingstone Again
Very 111 — "Pale, Bloodless and Weak from Profuse Bleeding "—Rotten Tents
Torn to Shreds — The Last Service — Livingstone Carried on a Litter — The Doctor
Falls from His Donkey— A Night's Rest in a Hut — Natives Gather Round the
Litter— A Well-known Chirf Meets the Caravan — The Last Words Livingstone
Ever Wrote — The Dying Hero Slowly Carried by Faithful Attendants — The Last
Stage — Drowsiness and Insensibility — Lying Under the Broad Eaves of a Native
Hut — The Final Resting Place — Livingstone's Dying Words — The World's Great
Hero Dead — Sorrowful Procession to the Coast — Body Transported to England —
Funeral in Westminster Abbey — Crowds of Mourners and Eloquent Eulogies —
Inscription on the Casket. .
FIVE days later, when much intensely interesting information had been
exchanged between the two heroes of travel, the trip to the north of
Tanganyika was commenced. Embarking at Ujiji, with a few picked
followers, the explorers cruised up the eastern cost, halting at different
villages for the night, and on the 29th November reached, at the very
head of the lake, the mouth of the Rusizi river, respecting the course of
which great doubt had hitherto been entertained, some geographers sup-
posing it to flow into and others out of the lake. In the latter case Tan-
ganyika might possibly empty its waters through it into the Albert
Nyanza of Baker, and the supposition that the two lakes were connected
would receive confirmation.

It will be seen by the observant reader that the reason why such her-
culean efforts have been made to ascertain the existence and dimensions
of the great inland lakes of Africa, was to discover, if possible, the real
sources of the Nile, concerning which the world has been for centuries in
ignorance. To ^olve the wonderful secret, explorations have been made
that embody the most thrilling achievements, and the most heroic

Such giants of African discovery as David Livingstone, Speke and
Burton, Stanley and Cameron, seized on Lake Tanganyika with a power-
ful grip, and in spite of all its slippery wriggling, did not loosen their
hold until it had yielded up its secrets. Tanganyika, like the Albert
Nyanza, is an enormous "trough" or crevasse, sunk far below the level
of the high table-land which occupies the whole centre of Africa from
the Abyssinian mountains on the east to the Cameroons on the west
coast, and terminating towards the south only with Table Mountain.
Though its shores are not, perhaps, generally so steep as those of other
lakes, the surrounding mountain walls are as high. Its length is greater
than any of the others, being little short of five hundred miles. Its
waters are very deep, and sweet to the taste, proving almost conclusively
that it must have an outlet somewhere ; for lakes which have no means
of draining away their waters, and sustain themselves by a balance of
inflow and evaporation, are salt or brackish. But while the Albert is
undoubtedly part of the Nile basin, to what great river does Tanganyika
present its surplus ?

Tlie Enemy Rushed Out Howling Furiously.

The first notion was that it was a far outlying branch of ancient Nilus.
Arm-chair geographers constructed a remarkable lake, in shape like a
Highland bagpipe. The swollen "bag" represented a shadow of the
Victoria Nyanza, drawn from native report, and it was joined to the long
" chanter" of Tanganyika as actually seen by Burton's party. Living-
stone was strongly convinced that the outlet of the lake would be found
at the extreme northern end, and that its waters went to reinforce the
Nile. Seeing, however, is believing; and from Ujiji he set out in com-
pany with Stanley to discover the "connecting link." The voyage was
not without its dangers and excitements. The dwellers on the lake
shores showed themselves several times to be hostile. At one place they
shouted to the boatmen to land, and rushed along the shore, slinging
stones at the strangers, one of the missiles actually striking the craft.

When night fell, and the crew disembarked to cook their supper and
to sleep under the lee of a high crag, the natives came crowding around,
telling them with a show of much friendliness to rest securely, as no one
would harm them. The doctor was too old a bird to be caught by such
chaff. The baggage was stowed on board, ready for a start, and a strict
watch was kept. Well into the night, dusky forms were noticed dodging
from rock to rock, and creeping up towards the fires; so, getting quietly on

board, the party pulled out into the lake, and the skulking enemy rushed
out upon the strand, howling furiously at being balked of their prey.

Important Discovery.

The first geographical surprise was met with a little beyortd the turn-
ing-point of Burton and Speke. These latter investigators coasted the
lake until, as they thought, they saw its two bounding ranges meet, and
there they drew the extremity of Tanganyika, and returned. This ap-
pearance, however, was found by Livingstone and Stanley to be caused
by a high promontory which juts out from the western shore overlap-
ping the mountains on the east. Beyond this narrow strait Tanganyika
again opens up, and stretches on for sixty miles further, overhung by
mountains rising to a height of seven thousand feet above sea-level, and
some four thousand three hundred feet above the surface of the lake.
At last the actual extremity of the long trough-like body of water came
in view.

As the voyagers approached it, they only became more puzzled as to
what they should find. Two, days' sail from their destination they were
po'^itively assured by the natives that the water flowed out of Tanganyika.
Even when the limits of open water were reached in a broad marshy flat
covered by aquatic plants, it was not easy to answer the question which
the travellers had come all this long way to solve. Seven broad inlets
were seen penetrating the bed of reeds. In none of them could any
current be discovered. Entering the centre channel in a canoe, however,
and pulling on for some distance past sedgy islands and between walls of
papyrus, disturbing witl\ every stroke of the paddles some of the sleep-
ing crocodiles that throng in hundreds in this marsh, all doubt as to the
course of the Rusizi was soon removed. A strange current of discolored
water was met pouring down from the high grounds, and further exami-
nation showed that the stream had other channels losing themselves in
the swamp, or finding their way into one or other of the inlets at the head
of the lake.

A Desperate Resolve.

Their work in connection with the Rusizi done, our heroes returned to
Ujiji, this time skirting along the western shores of the lake, and cross-
ing it near a large island called Muzumi. Back again at Ujiji on the
15 th December, Stanley did all in his power to persuade Livingstone
to return home with him and recruit his strength; but the only answer
he could obtain was, " Not till my work is done." In this resolution
Livingstone tells us in his journal he was confirmed by a letter from his
daughter Agnes, in which she said — "Much as I wish you to come
home, I would rather you finished your work to your own satisfaction
than to return merely to gratify me," " I must complete the exploration
of the Nile sources before I retire," says the devoted hero in another
portion of his notes, little dreaming that he was all the time working not
at them, but at those of the Congo.

It was arranged, however, that Livingstone should accompany Stanley
on his return journey as far as Unyanyembe, to fetch the goods there
stored up for his use, and the start for the east was made late in Decem-
ber, 1 87 1. Making a roundabout trip to the south to avoid the war still
going on, the party reached Unyanyembe in February, 1872, after a good
deal of suffering on Stanley's part from fever, and on Livingstone's from
sore feet.

In March, after giving all the stores he could spare to Livingstone,
Stanley left for Zanzibar, accompanied for the first day's march by the veteran hero.

The Last Conversation.

Livingstone gave the earlier portion of the precious journal from
which our narrative has been culled into the care of the young Ameri-
can, and as they walked side by side, putting off the evil moment of
parting as long as possible, the following interesting conversation, the
last held by Livingstone in his own language, took place : —

"Doctor," began Stanley, "so far as I can understand it, you do not
intend to return home until you have satisfied yourself about the
' Sources of the Nile.' When you have satisfied yourself, you will come
home and satisfy others, is it not so?"

" That is it exactly. When your men come back " (Stanley was to
hire men at Zanzibar to accompany Livingstone in his further journey)
" I shall immediately start for Ufipa " (on the south-eastern shores of
Lake Tanganyika) ; " then I shall strike south, and round the extremity
of Lake Tanganyika. Then a south-east course will take me to Chik-
umbi's, on" the Lualaba. On crossing the Lualaba, I shall go direct
south-west to the copper mines of Katanga. Eight days south of Kat-
anga the natives declare the fountains to be. When I have found them,
I shall return by Katanga to the underground houses of Rua. From the
caverns, ten days north-east will take me to Lake Komolondo. I shall
be able to travel from the lake in your boat, up the river Lufira, to Lake
Lincoln Then, coming down again, I can proceed north by the
Lualaba to the fourth lake — which will, I think, explain the whole

"And how long do you think this little journey will take you ?"

" A year and a-half at the furthest from the day I leave Unyanyembe."

" Suppose you say two year§ ; contingencies might arise, you know.
It will be well for me to hire these new men for two years, the day of
their engagement to begin from their arrival at Unyanyembe."

" Yes, that will do excellently well."

The Final Parting.

" Now, my dear doctor, the best of friends must part. You have come
far enough ; let me beg of you to turn back."

" Well, 1 will say this to you, you have done what few men could do —
far better than some great travellers I know, and I am grateful to you for
what you have done for me. God guide you safe home, and bless you,
my friend."

"And may God bring you safe back to us all, my dear friend. Farewell."

A few more words of good wishes on either side, another and yet
another clasp of the hand, and the two heroes parted, Stanley hurrying
back with all possible speed to Zanzibar to despatch men and stores for
the doctor to Unyanyembe, Livingstone to return to that town to await
the means of beginning yet another journey to the west.

It has long been well known that Stanley found the Royal Geographi-
cal Society's Livingstone Search Expedition at Bagamoyo, and that its
leader, Lieutenant Dawson, threw up his command on hearing of the
success of his predecessor. With the aid of Mr. Oswell Livingstone, the
son of the great explorer, the young American, however, quickly organ-
ized a caravan, and saw it start for the interior on the 17th May.
Somewhat later, the Royal Geographical Society sent out another
exploring party, led by Lieutenant Grandy, with orders to ascend the
Congo, to complete the survey of that stream, and at the same time to
convey succor and comfort to the great traveller, who geographers
already began to suspect was upon the upper waters of the Congo, and not
of the Nile ; but this last expedition utterly failed of success.

Livingstone's Last Letter.

Not until long afterwards was the true sequel of Livingstone's sad and
romantic history known in England. In his last letter, one to Mr. Well,
Acting American Consul at Zanzibar, dated from Unyanyembe, July 2d,
1872, he says, "I have been waiting up here like Simeon Sylites on his
p. liar, and counting every day, and conjecturing each step taken by our
friend towards the coast, wishing and praying that no sickness might lay
him up, no accident befall, and no unlooked-for combinations of circum-
stances render his kind intentions vain or fruitless."

The remainder of our narrative is culled from the latter part of Living-
stone's journal, brought to Zanzibar with his dead body by his men, and
from the accounts of his faithful followers Susi and Chumah, as given in
"Livingstone's Last Journals," edited by Dr. Horace Waller. From
these combined sources, we learn that in June, just four months after the
departure of Stanley, Sangara, one of his men, arrived at Unyanyembe
with the news that the new caravan was at Ugogo, and that on the 14th
August in the same year the men actually arrived.

Livingstone's servants now numbered some sixty in all, and included
the well-known John and Jacob Wainwright ; two highly-trained Nassick
men, sent from Bombay to join Lieutenant Dawson, who, with their
fellow-countrymen Mabruki and Gardner, enlisted in 1866; and Susi,
Chumah, and Ambda, three of the men who joined Livingstone on the
Zambesi in 1864, and now formed a kind of body-guard, protecting their
master in every peril in life, and guarding his body in death with equally
untiring devotion.

Without Food Eight Days.

On the 25th August, 1872, the start for the south-west was at last
made, and after daily records in the journal of arduous ascents of moun-
tains, weary tramps through flat forests, difficulties in obtaining food, in
controlling men, etc., we come on the 19th September to a significant
entry, to the effect that our hero's old enemy, dysentery, was upon him.
He had eaten nothing for eight days, yet he pressed on without pause
until the 8th October, when he sighted the eastern shores of Tangan-
yika. Then ensued a halt of a couple of days, when, turning due south,
the course led first along a range of hills overlooking the lake, and then
across several bays in the mountainous district of Fipa, till late in Octo-
ber a very large arm of Tanganyika was rounded. The lake was then
left, and a detour made to the east, bringing the party in November to
the important town known as Zombe's, built in such a manner that the
river Halocheche, on its way to Tanganyika, runs right through it.

At Zombe's a western course was resumed, and passing on through
heavy rains, and over first one and then another tributary of the lake, our
hero turned southwards, a little beyond the most southerly point of Tan-
ganyika, to press on in the same direction, though again suffering terri-
bly from dysentery, until November, when he once more set his face
westwards, arriving in December on the banks of the Kalongosi river, a
little to the east of the point at which he had sighted it on his flight
northwards with the Arabs.

In December what may be called the direct march to Lake Bangweolo
was commenced, the difficulties of travelling now greatly aggravated by
the continuous rain which had filled to overflowing the sponges, as
Livingstone calls the damp and porous districts through which he had to
pass. To quote from Dr. Waller's notes, "our hero's men speak of the
march from this point" (the village of Moenje, left on the 9th January,
1873) "as one continued plunge in and out of morass, and through rivers
which were only distinguishable from the surrounding waters by their
deep currents and the necessity of using canoes. To a man reduced in
strength, and chronically affected with dysenteric symptoms," adds Dr.
Waller, "the effect may well be conceived. It is probable that, had Dr.
Livingstone been at the head of a hundred picked Europeans, every man
of them would have been down in a fortnight."

Under these circumstances we cannot too greatly admire the pluck of
Livingstone's little body of men, for it must not be forgotten that Afri-
cans have an intense horror of wet, and that those from the coast suffer
almost as much as white men from the climate of the interior.

Following the route, we find that he crossed no less than thirteen
rivulets in rapid succession — more, in fact, than one a-day. In January
he notes that he is troubled for want of canoes, they being now indis-
pensable to further progress, and that he is once more near the Cham-
beze, the river which he had crossed far away on the north-east just
before the loss of his medicine-chest and the beginning of his serious

Wading Through. Water Neck-Deep.

No canoes were, however, forthcoming ; the natives were afraid of the
white man, and would give him no help either with guides or boats.
Nothing daunted even then, though his illness was growing upon him to
such an extent that the entries in his journal are often barely legible, he
pressed on, now wading through the water, now carried on the shoulders
of one or another of his men.

The following extract from the Journal, dated January 24th, will serve
to give some notion of the kind of work done in the last few stages of
this terrible journey : — " Went on east and north-east to avoid the deep part
of a large river, which requires two canoes, but the men sent by the chief
would certainly hide them. Went an hour-and-three-quarters journey
to a large stream through drizzling rain, at least 300 yards of deep water,
amongst sedges and sponges of 100 yards. One part was neck deep for
fifty yards, and the water was cold. We plunged in elephants' foot-
prints one and a-half hours, then came in one hour to a small rivulet ten
feet broad, but waist deep, bridge covered and broken down.

" Carrying me across one of the deep sedgy rivers is really a very
difficult task; one we crossed was at least 1,000 feet broad, or more than
300 yards. The first part the main stream came up to Susi's mouth.
One held up my pistol behind, then one after another took a turn, and
when he sank into a deep elephant's footprint he required two to lift him
so as to gain a footing on the level, which was over waist deep. Others
went on and bent down the grass so as to insure some footing on the side
of the elephant's path. Every ten or twelve paces brought us to a clear
stream, flowing fast in its own channel, while over all a strong current
came bodily through all the rushes and aquatic plants.

"It took us a full hour and a half for all to cross over. We had to
hasten on the building of sheds after crossing the second rivulet, as rain
threatened us. At four in the afternoon it came on pouring cold rain,
when we were all under cover. We are anxious about food. The lake is
near, but we are not sure of provisions. Our progress is distressingly
slow. Wet, wet, wet, sloppy weather truly, and no observations, except
that the land near the lake being very level, the rivers spread out into
broad friths and sponges."

Across the Ciiambeze at Last!

Thus wet, sick, and weary, often short of food and doubtful of his way,
the indomitable hero still struggled on, his courage sustained by his
hope of yet reaching the Chambeze, rounding the lake, and passing the
confluence of the Lualaba on the west ; his heart cheered by the ever-
increasing love of his men, especially of the seven already mentioned,
who vied with each other in their eagerness to carry their dear master,
to build the tent for his reception, to save for him the best of the provi-
sions they were able to procure.

The whole of February and the first half of the ensuing month were
consumed in wandering backwards and forwards amongst the swamps of
the north-east shores of Bangweolo, but about the 20th March the
camp was at last pitched on the left bank of the Chambeze, close to its
entry of the lake, and the question of its connection with the Lualaba
was to some extent solved. Late in March canoes were actually obtained,
and, embarking in them, our explorer and his men paddled across the
intervening swamps to the Chambeze, crossed a river flowing into it, and
then the main stream itself, losing one slave girl by drowning in the

Preparations were made for a further "land," or we wojjJd rather say
wading journey, for though all the canoes, except a few reserved for the
luggage, were left behind, the water was not. All went fairly well, how-
ever, in spite of the gigantic difficulties encountered, until the loth
April, when, about midway in the journey along the western bank of the
lake, Livingstone succumbed to a severe attack of his complaint, which
left him, to quote his own words, " pale, bloodless, and weak from pro-
fuse bleeding."

Carried in a Litter.

Surely now he would pause and turn back, that he might at least
reach home to die! But no! he allowed himself but two days' rest, and
then, staggering to his feet, though he owns he could hardly walk, he
"tottered along nearly two hours, and then lay down, quite done.
Cooked coffee," he adds — " our last — and went on, but in an hour I was
compelled to lie down."

Unwilling even then to be carried, he yielded at last to the expostula-
tions of his men, and, reclining in a kind of litter suspended on a pole,
he was gently borne along to the village of Chinama, and there, "in a
garden of durra," the camp was pitched for the night. Beyond on the
east stretched "interminable grassy prairies, with lines of trees occupying
quarters of miles in breadth." On the west lay the lake connected with so
many perils, but which Livingstone even yet hoped to round completely.

Our hero was forried over the Lolotikila, was carried over land for a
short distance to the south-west, the Lombatwa river was crossed, and,
after a " tremendous rain, which burst all the now rotten tents to shreds,"
three sponges were crossed in rapid succession. Two days later Living-
stone rallied sufficiently to mount a donkey, which, strange to say, had
survived all the dangers of the journey from Unyanyembe, and came in
sight of the Lavusi hills — a relief to the eye, he, tells us, after all the flat
upland traversed.

The Last Service.

On the 20th April, which fell on a Sunday, the exhausted explorer
held the last service with his men, crossed over a sponge to the village of
a man named Moanzambamba, the head-man of these parts, noted in his
journal that he felt excessively weak, and crossed the river Lokulu or
Molikulu in a canoe. Next day the only words Livingstone was able to
set down were, " Tried to ride, but was forced to lie down, and they carried
me back to vil. exhausted."

To quote from Dr. Waller, Livingstone's men explained this entry
thus : — " This morning the doctor tried if he were strong enough to ride on
the donkey, but he had only gone a short distance when he fell to the ground
utterly exhausted and faint." Susi then unfastened his master's belt and
pistol, and picked up his cap, which had fallen to the ground, whilst
Chumah ran on to stop the men in fiont. When he came back he said,
" Chumah, I have lost so much blood there is no more strength left in my
legs; you must carry me." He was then lifted on to Chumah's back,
and carried back to the village he had just left, but insisted on going on
again the next day, though his men saw that he was sinking and began
to fear he would not rally again.

A litter was made of "two side pieces of wood seven feet in length,
crossed with rails three feet long and about four inches apart, the whole
lashed strongly together." Grass was spread over this rough bed, and a
blanket laid over it. It was then slung from a pole, Livingstone was laid
upon it, and two of his men carried him across a flooded grass plain to
the next village, which was reached in about two hours and a half, the
illustrious traveller suffering severely.

Here a hut was built, and Livingstone rested for the night, if we can
speak of rest when he was enduring the most terrible pain. On the 23d
April the melancholy march was resumed, though our hero was too
ill to make any entry but the date in his journal. His men report that
they passed over just such a flooded treeless waste as on the previous day,
seeing many small " fish-weirs set in such a manner as to catch the fish
on their way back to the lake," but not a sign was to be seen of the inhab-
itants of the country, who appear to have a great horror of the white
man's caravan.

Next day only one hour's march was accomplished, and a halt was
made amongst some deserted huts. The doctor's suffering on this day
was very great, and he once nearly fell out of the kitanda or litter, but
was saved by Chum ah.

The day following an hour's journey brought the party to a village
containing a few people on the south of the lake , the doctor's litter was
set down in a shady place, and a few of the natives were persuaded to
draw near and enter into conversation with him. They were asked
whether they knew of a hill from which flowed four rivers, and their
spokesman answered that they knew nothing about it, for they were not
travellers. All who used to go on trading expeditions, he added, were
dead. Once Wabisa traders used to assemble in one of their villages,
but the terrible Mazitu had come and swept them all away. The sur-
vivors had to live as best they could amongst the swamps around the

Unfortunately, the conversation had not continued long before the
doctor was too ill to go on talking, and he dismissed his visitors, with a
request that they would send him as much food as they could spare to
Kalunganjova's town on the west, which was to be the next stopping-

As the litter was being carried from Kalunganjova, the chief himself
came o.ut to meet the caravan, and escorted our hero into his settlement,
situated on the banks of a stream called the LuHmala, Here, on the
next day, April 27th, 1873, Livingstone, who for the three previous days
had made no entry but the date in his journal, wrote his last words in
characters scarcely legible : — " Knocked up quite, and remain — recover
— sent to buy milch goats. We are on the banks of the Molilamo," in
reality the same river as that given as the LuHmala in Livingstone's map,
his men confirming the latter pronunciation.

On the next day, Livingstone being now in an almost dying state, his
men went off in various directions to try and obtain milch goats, but
with no good results, Kalunganjova came to visit his guest and to offer
every assistance in his power, promising to try and obtain canoes for
crossing of the river — indeed to go himself with the caravan to the ferry,
which was about an hour's march from the spot. "Everything," he said,
" should be done for his friend." But alas! this eager readiness to help,
which would have been of incalculable service a few weeks before, was
too late to be of any real use now.

When all was ready for the start, and Susi went to tell Livingstone it
was time for him to enter the litter, the doctor said he was too ill to walk
to it, and the door of his hut being too narrow to admit of its passage to
his bedside, the wall had to be broken down. When this was done, the
litter was placed by the bedside, the dying hero was gently lifted on to it,
and slowly and sadly borne out of the village.

Life Fast Ebbing Away.

Following the course of the Lulimala till they came to a reach where
the current was interrupted by numerous little islands, the party found
Kalunganjova awaiting them on a little knoll, and under his superintend-
ence the embarkation proceeded rapidly, whilst Livingstone, who was to
be taken over when the rough work was done, rested on his litter in a
shady place.

The canoes not being wide enough to admit of the litter being laid in
any one of them, it was now a difficult question how best to get the
doctor across. Taking his bed off his litter, the men placed it in the
strongest canoe and tried to lift him on to it, but he " could not bear the
pain of a hand being placed under his back." Making a sign to Chumah,
our hero then faintly whispered a request to him " to stoop down over
him as low as possible, so that he might clasp his hands together behind
his head," at the same time begging him " to avoid putting any pressure
on the lumbar region of the back." His wishes were tenderly carried
out, and in this manner he was laid in the canoe, ferried over as rapidly
as possibly, and once more placed in his litter on the other side.

Susi now hastened on with several servants to the next village, then
celebrated Chitambo's, to superintend the building of a house for the
reception of his beloved master, the rest of the party following more
slowly, and bearing their precious charge "through swamps and plashes,"
till they came, to their great relief, to something " like a dry plain at

The Last Stage.

The strength of the great explorer was now ebbing rapidly away.
Chumah, who helped to carry him on this the very last stage of his jour-
ney, says that lis and his comrades were every now and then " implored
to stop and place their burden on the ground." Sometimes a drowsiness
come over the suffbrer, and he seemed insensible to all that was going
on ; sometimes he suffered terribly for want of water, of which, now that
it was SO sorely needed, not a drop could be obtained, until, fortunately,
they met a member of their party returning from Chitambo's, with a
supply thoughtfully sent off by Susi.

A little later, a clearing was reached, and Livingstone again begged to
be set down and left alone, but at that very moment the first huts of Chit-
ambo's village came in sight, aid his bearers begged him to endure yet
a little longer, that they might place him under shelter.

Arrived at last at Chitambo's, the party found the house their fellow-
servants were building still unfinished, and were therefore compelled to
lay their master " under the broad eaves of a native hut " for a time.
Though the village was then nearly empty, a number of natives soon col-
lected about the litter, to gaze " in silent wonder upon hiin whose praises
had reached them in previous years."

When the house was ready, our hero's bed was placed inside it, " raised
from the floor by sticks and grass ; " bales and boxes, one of the latter
serving as a table, were arranged at one end ; a fire was lighted outside,
nearly opposite the door ; and Livingstone was tenderly and reverently
carried from his temporary resting-place to that which was to be his last.
A boy named Majwara was appointed to sleep inside the house, to
attend to the patient's wants.

The Great Hero's Last Words.

Chitambo came early in the morning to pay his respects to his guest,
but Livingstone was too ill to attend to him, and begged him "to call
again on the morrow, when he hoped to have more strength to talk to
him." In the afternoon the doctor asked Susi to bring him his watch,
and showed him how to hold it in the palm of his hand, whilst he himself
moved the key. The rest of the day passed without incident, and in the
evening the men not on duty silently repaired to their huts, whilst those
whose turn it was to watch sit round their fires, waiting for the end
which they felt to be rapidly approaching.

At about 11 P. M. Livingstone sent for Susi, and loud shouts being at
the moment heard in the distance, said to him, "Are our men making
that noise?"

" No," replied Susi, adding that he believed it was only the natives
scaring away a buffalo from their durra fields. A few minutes later,
Livingstone said slowly, "Is this the Lualaba?" his mind evidently,
wandering to the great river which had so long been the object of his
search. "No," said Susi, "we are in Cliitambo's village, near the Luli-

A long silence ensued, and then the doctor said in Suaheli, an Arab
dialect, " How many days is it to the Lualaba ? " and Susi answered in the
same language, " I think it is three days, master."

A few seconds later, Livingstone exclaimed, " Oh dear ! oh dear ! " as
if in terrible suffering, and then fell asleep. Susi, who then left his
master to his repose, was recalled in about an hour by Majwara, and on
reaching the doctor's bedside received instructions to boil some water,
for which purpose he went to the fire outside to fill his kettle. On his
return, Livingstone told him to bring his medicine-chest and to hold the
candle near him. These instructions being obeyed, he took out a bottle
of calomel, told Susi to put it, an empty cup, and one with a little water
in it, within reach of his hand, and then added in a very low voice, "All
right; you can go out now."

This was the last sentence ever spoken by Livingstone in human hear-
ing. At about 4 A. M. Majwara came once more to call Susi, saying,
" Come to Bwana (his name for Livingstone) ; I am afraid. I don't know
if he is alive."

A Martyr to a Great Cause.

Susi, noticing the boy's terror, and fearing the worst, now aroused five
of his comrades, and with them entered the doctor's hut, to find the great
explorer kneeling, as if in prayer, by the side of his bed, " his head
buried in his. hands upon the pillow."

" For a minute," says Dr. Waller, "they watched him ; he did not stir;
there was no sign of breathing; then one of them advanced softly to him
and placed his hands to his cheeks." It was enough ; Livingstone was
dead. He had probably expired soon after Susi left him, dying as he had
lived, in quiet unostentatious reliance upon his divine Father. " History,"
says Banning, one of the members of the Brussels Conference, " contains
few pages more touching, or of a more sublime character, than the simple
narrative of this silent and solitary death of a great man, the martyr to a
great cause."

Thus ended the career of the greatest hero of modern geographical
discovery, and of one of the noblest-hearted philanthropists of the present
century. Very sadly, very tenderly, very reverently Livingstone's ser-
vants laid .the corpse of their beloved master on his bed, and retired to
consult sogether round their watch-fire as to'what should next be done.

The following day it was unanimously decided that Susi and Chumah,
who were "old men in travelling and in hardship," should act as captains
of the caravan, the other men engaged promising faithfully to obey

All agreed further that the body of Livingstone must be preserved
and carried back to Zanzibar. With the ready go-operation of Chitambo,
a strong hut, open to the air at the top, was built for the performance of
the last melancholy offices.

A native mourner was engaged to sing the usual dirge before the com-
mencement of the post-mortem examination. Wearing the anklets
proper to the occasion, "composed of rows of hollow seed-vessels, he
sang the following chant, dancing all the while —

" To day the Englishman is dead,
Who has different hair from ours ;
Come round to see the Englishman."

After this concession to the customs of the people amongst whom they
found themselves, Livingstone's faithful servants carried his remains to
the hut prepared for them, where Jacob Wainwright read the burial ser-
vice in the presence of all his comrades. The great hero's heart was
removed and buried in a tin a little distance from the hut, and the body
was "left to be fully exposed to the sun. No other means were taken to
preserve it beyond placing some brandy in the mouth, and some on the

At the end of fourteen days, the body, thus simply " embalmed," was
" wrapped round in some calico, the legs being bent inwards at the knees
to shorten the package," which was placed in a cylinder ingeniously con-
structed out of the bark of a tree. Over the whole a piece of sail-cloth
was sewn, and the strange coffin was then securely lashed to a strong
pole, so that it could be carried by the men in the manner figured in our

Procession to the Coast.

Under the superintendence of Jacob Wainwright, an inscription was
carved on a large tree near the place where the body was exposed, giv-
ing the name of the deceased hero and the date of his death. Chitambo
promised to guard this memorial as a sacred charge, and the melancholy
procession started on the return journey.

Completing the circuit of Bangweolo, the men crossed the Lualaba
near its entry into the lake on the west, thus supplementing their mas-
ter's work, and, turning eastward beyond the great river which had so
long been the goal of his efforts, they made for the route he had fol-
lowed on his trip to the south in 1868. A short halt at Casembe's was
succeeded by an uneventful trip eastwards to Lake Tanganyika, round-
ing the southern extremity of which the funeral procession rapidly made
its way in a north-easterly direction to Unyanyembe, where it arrived in
the middle of October, 1873.

Here Lieutenant Cameron, the leader, and Dr. Dillon and Lieutenant
Murphy, members of a new Livingstone Relief Expedition sent out by
the Royal Geographical Society, were resting before starting westwards.
After the sad news of the doctor's death had been communicated to
them and confirmed by indisputable evidence, Cameron did all in his
power to help and relieve the brave fellows who had brought the hero's
dead dody and all belonging to him thus far in safety. Then, finding
them unwilling to surrender their charge before reaching the coast
although he himself thought that Livingstone might have wished to be
buiied in the same land as his wife, he allowed them to proceed, Dr. Dil-
lon and Lieutenant Murphy accompanying them.

Soon after the march to the coast began. Dr. Dillon, rendered deli-
rious by his sufferings from fever and dysentery, shot himself in his tent,
but Susi, Chumah, and their comrades arrived safely at Bagamoyo in
February, 1874, where they delivered up their beloved master's remains
to the Acting Lnglish Consul, Captain Prideaux, under whose care they
were conveyed to Zanzibar in one of Her Majesty's cruisers, thence to be
sent to England on board the Malwa, for interment in Westminster

To describe the stately funeral which was accorded to the simple-
hearted hero in old Westminster Abbey would be beyond our province,
but none who read the glowing newspaper accounts of the long proces-
sion, the crowds of mourners, and the orations in honor of the deceased,
can fail to have been touched by the contrast they offered to his lonely
death in the wilderness, untended by any but the poor natives whose
affections he had won by his gentleness and patience in the hardships
and privations they had endured together, and to whom alone England
is indebted for the privilege of numbering his grave amongst her sacred
national possessions.

The remains of the great African Explorer were laid to rest in West-
minster Abbey on the i8th of April. The casket bore the inscription —

Born at Blantyre, Lanarkshire, Scotland,
19 March, 1813,
Died at Ilala, Central Africa,
4 May, 1873.

Continued at ERBzine 6099_16 Next Week


William Hillman
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