Lighting the Dark Continent: Newly Discovered Letters of David Livingstone. Ii

February 6, 1853.
MY DEAR CHARLES, —
. . . I remember you with feelings of grateful affection every new volume I read. And as I have still a good stock untouched, my emotions will not want occasions of being stirred up for some time to come. The Bibliotheca Sacra and New Englander some other theological works have given me a high idea of Yankee attainments in that science. They seem ahead of the British in several departments, and I am proud to think I have a brother capable of standing among such giants as a companion in arms. And I pray he may prove throughout a good soldier of Jesus Christ. Yet I don’t very well understand what they see to praise in the works lately published of Dr. Chalmers. His private notes for instance are to me very poor, and many of what he calls notabilia are just what everybody knows. And then, when he comes to a difficult passage, he slips over it, saying a great deal on other parts which might have been left alone. I have seen the three volumes of it and could not manage to wade through them it was so wersh. I suspect that some critics just take up the spoor (trail), as we call it here, of others. . . .
I feel thankful to God who, in permitting me to labor in his work, bestows tokens of the approbation of my fellow men by throwing discoveries in my way. I never need to go much or at all out of my way to make them. Two of the persons above referred to set off on horseback to see the Falls, but were prevented. It is pleasant to recognize our Father’s hand in all things. His good Providence has helped me hitherto, and I may surely trust Him for all time to come. The only point of interest this last year’s batch of travellers settled was that the bile of the tsetse does not act as the innoculation for small-pox does; for a horse which was bitten and recovered last year died from having received a greater number of bites this year.
Mr. Moffat goes on laboriously with his translation of the Bible into Sechuana. In his hands it is somewhat like translating and learning Hebrew at the same time, for he is so anxious to make the Sechuana and Hebrew harmonize, he examines every word in the latter language. He writes a neat hand, yet his translation in manuscript is covered over with references and the various exercises of his mind on different words. I proposed to him to offer his manuscript of the whole Bible in Sechuana to the Library of Amherst College, and he seemed pleased with the proposition. Would the authorities there value the gift ? I was induced to think of it by seeing that that library possesses a collection of the Bible in various languages. Will you make inquiry and write either him or me on the subject? We could send a Testament now and the whole Bible as soon as printed. . . . You are not restricted to Amherst. What I should prefer would be where it would be valued most. In my opinion, it is a curiosity of great interest. . . .
I am standing under a Moana, or Baobab, tree at present, composed of six branches rising from one root and joined together till about five feet from the ground. At three feet from the ground it is 85 feet in circumference. It is at least 60 feet high. Its reddish color makes it look more like a mass of red granite than a tree. The wood is quite soft and spongy, and though such a giant in size, I suspect he is a mere baby compared to some of the historical yews and oaks of England. ... It is a poor country this, after all. Its frequent droughts, its cattle stealing and children stealing and murders make the heart sick. But its future is in the hands of God and He will cover it with his glory. The dweller in the wilderness shall bow down before Him and all nations shall serve Him. When at Sechele’s town, I took down the names of 124 children who had been stolen from that tribe alone. Many of them I could identify as having been in the mission school. The Boers now want peace from Sechele, because the Barslonge commenced stealing their cattle immediately after their attack on Sechele. This is the first instance in which Bechuanas have been known to steel cattle from white men. Sechele replied to their application, ‘ Can we talk of peace so long as you retain my child in slavery?’ They immediately sought out one of his children who had been captured and restored him. I was present when, amidst the tears of a crowd of mothers whose children are still in bonds, Khari was restored to his mother. They have, of course, 123 children still in their possession; and leaving out of view the men and women murdered, the cattle stolen, the provisions, clothing, and property destroyed in burning the town, they think they have done enough for the securing peace by restoring one child. This is portentous impudence. . . .
My thoughts run on a book of travels, but when I reflect on what is necessary for such an undertaking, I give up in despair. I think it will be perhaps my wisest course to keep in the shade and among the hoipolloi who gazed at trees and birds and beasts centuries ago, and now sleep beneath the plains over which I wander. I think I asked your opinion about something of the sort, and now give you an insight into the workings of my own mind on the subject. Perhaps John ought to write one. Is he to be let off with doing nothing, when you and I strive so manfully to raise our family above the swinish multitude? It is not to be thought of.

SEKELETU’S TOWN, LINYANTI,
21September, 1853.
MY DEAR CHARLES, —
I have just glanced over a letter written for you in February last, but for the transmission of which no opportunity occurred; and as it will accompany this, I shall commence where it leaves off. Fever had brought us to a standstill, and when at last we began to move on, we found the whole country adjacent to the Chobe flooded. I was wagon-driver and pathmaker, too. Had to handle the axe all day, for in endeavoring to steer clear of tsetse, we entered a densely wooded country. The increased leafiness of the trees, and grass ten feet high, showed me we were in a warm and very moist climate. An old acquaintance startled us, and that was no other than vines of great luxuriance bearing fine bunches of dark purple grapes. The seeds were very large and very astringent. But we were brought up by the flood, valleys seemed large rivers, and though we crossed several, one about half a mile aroad, with hippopotami in it, prevented farther progress. Two Bushmen who had assisted in taking care of the oxen decamped. This was owing to my being unable to speak their language, and they feared that difficulties would make me angry with them. A few sweet words spoken warm from the heart are worth more than dollars or doubloons in these cases; but these, in consequence of not knowing their unearthly language, I could not employ.
Most of my own people had to be lifted out and into the wagon like children. We were in 18° 4‘, and knew the Chobe and Makolo must be near; so, taking a small pontoon and one of the strongest of my invalids, I crossed the river, a branch of the Chobe, and went NNW. on foot. The grass, about four feet high and densely planted, stood in water which reached sometimes above the ankle, sometimes to the middle of the body. We had to push a way through the grass with our knees. That and abortive attempts to break through the immense mass of reeds which line the Chobe wore strong moleskin trousers through at the knees, and the shoes at the toes. I protected the former by tieing my handkerchief around them. The latter had to rough it. We spent three nights among the reeds. I had Æsop’s burden, the food, and a gun and coat — my companion carried the pontoon on his head. He frequently fell down in the water from weakness. I shot antelopes, and so kept his stomach and spirits in a state of tension; but, poor fellow, it was unpleasant to look at him when I made him laugh. There were as many of Hogarth’s lines of beauty on his face as one sees on the countenance of a gridiron. . . .
Through God’s mercy I had enjoyed uninterrupted good health, but now fever laid hold on me. I have had eight, attacks altogether — never laid by longer than to allow medicines to fulfill their indications. I tried native remedies, in order to discover if they possessed any valuable remedies for the fever; but, after being stewed in vapor, smoked like a red herring over fires of green sticks in hot potsherds, and physicked in ways which would have upset the gravity of anyone except a son of Æsculapius, I have come to the conclusion that our own medicines are both more effectual and safer. Reëstablishment of the perspiration is the first and almost only thing they attend to; divination, to know what kind of ox is to be slaughtered in order to propitiate the Barimo, or gods, the second; but the doctor receiving a large share of the meat, makes me suspect it bears the same relationship to the cure as the guinea of their more civilized brethren. Our reception here was as kind and flattering as could have been desired. The chief, just over eighteen years of age, hailed me as another father, and often pressed me to name anything I wished, in order that he might show his affection. He seemed distressed when I refused to name anything in his power. Did not like to begin to learn to read, for fear it would change his heart and make him content with one wife, as in the case of Sechele; and when I proposed to examine the country with reference to the selection of a salubrious spot for a mission station, he must accompany me. . . .
In ascending the river [Zambesi] toward the Barotse country, my attention was constantly called to the beauty of the scenery. It is indeed a magnificent river—often more than a mile broad and studded with islands three or four miles long. These and the banks are generally covered with sylvan vegetation down to the water’s edge. At a little distance they seem like large rounded masses of various hues of green reclining on the bosom of the waters. The feathery date-palm and palmyra, shooting high above the rest, look lovely against a cloudless sky. Several rapids, or rather cataracts, exist in the river. They are from four to six feet high. But the falls of Gonye (Gon-yé — hard g) excel them all. They cannot be approached at all times. We had to wade one hundred yards through very rapid water rushing on to a smaller fall below, before we came to a rock, which forms the peculiarity of Gonye. There is a clear fall of about fifty yards in length over a perpendicular rock forty feet high. The rock on which we stand juts out in front of this, and both narrows the bed of the river below and receives a portion of the falling water, as it. were into a chasm. The dash of the water against this rock is so tremendous, a cloud of spray rises, and at the time we were there a beautiful rainbow played on its surface. Some of the heathen who accompanied me exclaimed, ‘How grand are the works of God! ’ Others washed their faces in the spray as a charm; while others, mindful of the wants of the nose, searched in the holes in the rocks for round stones to grind snuff. . . .
I am at present waiting for the commencement of the rains, in order to proceed westward. I think of Loanda in preference to Benguela, as containing most English and being more salubrious. I have just come off a journey of nine weeks in the Barotse country. From the chief downwards all were kind and obliging. Food was abundant. Ten or twenty oxen were sometimes slaughtered in one day, and I could send to the chief’s larder whenever I chose. Yet the quarreling, jesting, anecdotes, murdering, grumbling, etc., etc., had given me a more intense disgust of heathenism than I ever possessed before. The low dens and bylanes of London, into which I have been sent when connected with one of the medical charities, never presented anything so degraded and vile to my imagination. The internal condition of Africa calls for the compassion of Christians as much as the external woe inflicted on it by the slave trade. A nation scattered and peeled — a people robbed and spoiled, trodden down and not comforted. Will it indeed soon stretch out its hands to God? Let thy kingdom come, Lord God omnipotent.
When we came here, a party of Marubari fled as soon as they heard of our approach. The Makololo told them that I would do no harm. ‘Oh, yes he will, he will take all our goods because we deal in slaves.’ Orders had been issued against selling children, and in this part there was no trade for them. A Portuguese slave merchant came from Bié, which I believe is the farthest-inland trading station they have opposite to Benguela. He seemed disappointed in his expectations of finding a market, for he remained only a few days and then returned. Another came to Barotse from the same station and by an intrigue with an under-chief succeeded in collecting a large number of slaves from the northern part of the country, and among the Matoka and Bashukulompo. This under-chief, called Mṕeṕe, thought he had a claim to the chieftainship, and in order to secure the slave merchant’s assistance, handed over all the real chief’s ivory to him and gave him full liberty to use his name in slave-trading in all the northeastern towns. A stockade was built, the Portuguese flag hoisted, and a small cannon presented to Mṕeṕe. The slave merchant and Mṕeṕe came down to this part. The latter had planned the assassination of the chief, but a very slight circumstance deranged his plan. He had told his confederates that, when Sekeletu rose up from conversing with him, he would hamstring him with a battle-axe he carried. We met on our way towards the Barotse, and I happened to sit down between Mṕeṕe and the chief. After conversing a little, I asked the chief where he would sleep. He replied, ‘Come, I will show you.’ We rose together and I, being behind, covered him with my body. As soon as it was dark, his confederates revealed the whole to the Chief, and Mṕeṕe was caught by his own friends, led forth, and executed. I knew nothing of the matter till the following day. Mṕeṕe’s father and several confederates were also put to death, and when I remonstrated against bloodshed, the reply given was, ‘We are still Boers, we are not yet taught.’ . . .
We met Arabs from Zanzibar, subjects of the Imam of Muscat, who could write Arabic readily in my notebook — some of them had been quite across the continent. I admired the boldness with which they declared, ‘Muhamed was the greatest of all the prophets.’ . . .
The black race which is aboriginal is properly called Makalaka. This term includes Bashubea, Banyeti, Barotse, etc., etc.; indeed, all the very black people on the river and countries adjacent. They are superior to the southern tribes in ingenuity and industry. They cultivate grain and other eatables largely, but, contrary to my expectation, those who excel both as agriculturists and manufacturers have always succumbed to every invader. The ‘Sons of the soil’ who have pluck inherit it through some other channel than the exhalations of Mother Earth. Sauturu extended his dominion over all this region. He refused the Marubari permission to buy his people, so I have no doubt Sekeletu may put a stop to slaving, too. He transplanted trees to his towns, many of which are now standing, and reared the young of wild animals in his town. He had two tame hippopotami in his town, and was much beloved by his people. When he passed his first capital, called Lilonda, the people led me to a grove in which were curious instruments of iron — an upright stalk with numerous branches proceeding from it, at the end of each of which there was a miniature hoe, or axe, or spear. . . .
Although the inhabitants are unaccustomed to the preservation of articles of barter at present, they soon learn if a trader comes regularly. The great antidote however for all the woes of Africa is the gospel of Jesus Christ. Without this, the mightiest power ever wielded on earth, I should despair of effecting anything for the children of Ham. But give them the Gospel, and then, though my head may be low before its effects are seen, these effects are coming yet for a’ that.

RIVER OF THE BASHUKULOMPO,
NEAR ITS CONFLUENCE WITH THE ZAMBESI,
Lat. 15 47' S. Long. 28 50' East,
20 December, 1855.
MY DEAR CHARLES, —
A little leisure, obtained together with a bountiful supply of pork for my party, enables me to commence an epistle for my Yankee brother. We number 115 in all, so you may wonder whether we have a Connecticut, or whatever else that great American ‘juggery’ is called, in Intertropical Africa. We got a hippopotamus last night, and, some elephants appearing this morning, the men ran off and soon killed a fine cow with their spears; and as both animals belong to the Pachydermata, their flesh is pork. I suppose. That of the river horse is very like it, and much liked in the colony, as such. My men are now all cutting it up into long strings for drying and roasting it, boiling it, and laughing. I am sitting on some grass in the midst of ranges of beautiful tree-covered hills, and after this gastronomic introduction will more parsonico proceed as follows. . . . We came down the river from Seskeke, convoyed by Sekeletu and principal men with about 200 followers; and about ten miles below the confluence of the Chobe the rapids began, which compelled us to leave the canoes and march along the bank on foot. Twenty miles brought us to the island of Sekote or Kalai. As it was necessary to turn off to the northeast from this point, in order to avoid tsetse, I took a canoe and went about eight miles farther down, to see the falls of Mosisatunya. [Victoria Falls.] When five or six miles distant, we saw five columns of smoke ascending apparently to the clouds. Taking a little light canoe when about a mile above the spot, and men well acquainted with the rapids, we then went to an island situated about the middle of the tip or ledge over which the Zambesi rolls, and then, crawling to the edge, peered over into the wonderful abyss which constitutes Mosisatunya (smoke sounds).
There is always something new from Africa, said Scipio, or somebody as wise. You may see your big Niagara, but you cannot see a river leaping into a straight jacket. Imagine the Thames filled with low tree-covered hills (300 feet) from the Tunnel down to Gravesend, and its bottom formed of basalt instead of mud. Then fancy, further, a rent made in the bed from bank to bank down through the roof of the tunnel, and the pathway to be about one hundred feet below, instead of what it is — the lips of the fissure being from fifty to one hundred feet apart, and the whole mass of water flowing southerly, leaping down into this and suddenly compressed from a thousand yards into fifteen or twenty, then compelled to flow from east to west, or from the right to the left bank, where turning a corner, it resumes, in the fissure prolonged in that direction, its southerly course. The fissure, in passing through the hills for about thirty miles, becomes much deeper, probably 300 feet. Then the river opens out again, and as our goodly Zambesi flows placidly away to the northeast. In looking down into the fissure on the right, one sees nothing but a dense white cloud with two rainbows on it. An amount of vapor rushes up which I never saw equaled anywhere else. Rising about 300 feet, it becomes black and descends in a smart shower, which soon wet us to the skin. In the distance it resembles African grass burning. We have no idea of the depth of the fissure on the right side. On the left a large piece has fallen in, and that seems about one hundred feet from the lip over which we are looking. The lip over which the water flows has its edge worn about three feet down to the three portions into which the water divides itself at low water. At this period there is about 600 yards broad of falls. There are two smaller ones, hence the five columns of vapor. This lip may be said to be serrated on the edge, several large pieces having fallen in, and it is from fifty to one hundred feet distant from the opposite one, which has a clean sharp edge, Both are quite perpendicular. The opposite lip is ornamented with a large straight hedge of evergreen trees, whose leaves are constantly wet by the perpetual shower. Little streams run down from the hedge into the gulf, but never reach the bottom. The ascending mass of vapor blows them all aloft again.
In former times the three principal falls were places of worship for three chiefs who lived in the neighborhood. I suppose they thought the feelings of awe which the scene inspires were appropriate in praying to the Barims (gods, or departed spirits). The neverceasing roar might convey an idea of the flood gushing forth from beneath the footstool of the Eternal; and the bright rainbows immovable on the fearful turmoil below, that of Deity presiding over all unstable things, Himself alone unchangeable. But they never knew Him as we do, in the face of his Anointed — a God of benevolence and love. They were a bloody, imperious crew, and in all their villages one sees numerous heads mounted on poles. I counted between fifty and sixty so exhibited in one village, and on asking the son of the headman who had killed the owners, what had been his father’s motive, ‘To show strangers his fierceness.’ . . .
I returned next day with Sekeletu on a little speculation of my own. The island on which we stood in the middle of the falls is covered with trees, and they are nourished by occasional puffs of the wind carrying a gentle shower from the columns over the island. I have often planted fruit-tree stones, but this climate, though much more humid than the south, is troubled with intermittent droughts which destroy tender plants. I always lost my plants by my friends forgetting to supply moisture. Seeing it clear, therefore, that Mosisatunya would not forget to throw up vapor nor the winds to blow, I made a little nursery for peaches, apricots, and coffee, at a part of the island which I think will get about a proper quantity of the condensed vapor. The only enemy I have to fear is the hippopotamus, of which we saw footprints on the island; but a Makololo promised tomake a hedge, and if the brutes don’t break through, I have great hopes of Mr. Mosisatunya’s abilities as a nurseryman. When the river rises four or five feet, the island is totally unapproachable by man, and then there is a continuous fall of a thousand yards. I am, however, a miserable judge of distances on water. . . .
You are, of course, aware from former correspondence of the nature of my plans. I determined to find a path from a healthy spot in the interior to either the east or west coast, and was in hopes that thereby European merchants would step in and supply the market with objects of legitimate commerce in exchange for ivory, etc., and by that means supplant the trade in slaves. I could not find a healthy locality, but did not turn tail for that. So pushed away through to Loanda; the merchants and governor behaved most handsomely to my companions. (Among the former there is a Yankee.) And when we returned to Sekeletu, another party was dispatched, with only two days for preparation, and this time with a considerable quantity of ivory, but under the guidance of an Arab from Zanzibar. My men are allowed a period of rest, but though both they and I had to spend all for food on our way home, they are quite enthusiastic about returning again. . . .
In coming through the country of the Balonda we pass a little lake called Diollo, and there is a river connected with it, called Lotembua, which has the singular fortune of running two ways at once, the upper or northern portion of it flows NW into the Casai, the lower or southern half runs into the Leeba, which again flows into the Zambesi. As the Casai is the main branch of the Congo, or Zaire, the Lotembua pours some of its waters into the sea on the west coast and some into the same receptacle on the cast coast, or, to write more magniloquently, Lotembua divides its waters between the Atlantic and Indian oceans. This little lake which — Hear it, my dear Republican! — I would have liked to have called Victoria; but I felt like the silly fellow (Scholasticos) in the Glasgow Greek classbook, who, seeing a large party of friends arrive to assist at the funeral of his child, came out and apologized for having only one little baby to bury. Well, it set me a-cogitating, and I soon perceived what I might have done long before, that the real form of the continent is not, as was imagined, an elevated tableland with high mountains, African cordilleras running from N. to S., but a hollow basin, with an elevated bridge on each side, distant in both cases about three hundred miles from the coast. This is clearly evident from all the sources of the Casai flowing from the western ridge toward the centre of the continent. . . .
Now take care and imbibe the real idea I mean to convey, for I have more than the philosophy of the thing in view. The middle of the continent is beyond doubt a basin, but only with respect to the longitudinal ridges named, and not as regards the level of the sea. . . .
Without dosing you ad nauseam with geology, for the pursuit of which science I have myself always had more inclination than leisure, I may add that before the fissure of Mosisatunya was made, there was a vast lake west of it, which included Lake Ngami, Libebe, Linyanti, etc., in its bosom. The Zambesi then flowed in a bed on the left of the fissure, in which a small stream now flows, called Lekone, but it runs away back and joins the river above the falls. The beginning of the ancient bed is on the same level as Linyanti. Leaving it and going northeastward, we came to another, called Unguesi, which also runs backward and joins the river above the rapids. On the centre of the ridge runs the Kalomo (scarcely more than mountain torrents, all of them), but it flows south and joins the Zambesi below the falls. Then the Mozuma, which is the first shewing inclinations eastwards. Now this ridge is perfectly salubrious, and so is that on the west. There are neither springs nor fountains nor marshes on it; the grass is short and well suited for pasturage. It once contained a very large population as the ruins of towns everywhere testify, and is well adapted for raising native produce. It has again been overrun by fire and sword.
The people are humbled by these calamities, anti after the first suspicions were over received us joyfully as harbingers of peace. ' Give us sleep,’ said they, ‘that we may repose without dreaming of men pursuing us with spear in hand.’ They are very degraded, dress in puris naturalibus, and make one think that man is the most inelegant animal alive. I asked an old man with as much civility as I could muster, for it is as useful among savages as among savants, if he had never thought of a slight departure, a fig-leaf for instance, from his original costume, though he might not approve of ' going into bags’ (they call our dress so). He looked at me with that sort of leer the so-called freethinkers adopt when pitying our weakness for freely thinking that the Bible is verily God’s message to man. He answered with a smile. He was not troubled with my weak prejudices!
The Makololo once lived on the ridge, and I now remember that on my asking Sebituane if his country were all as unhealthy as Linyanti, he referred me to this, and told me he was forced to leave it by the Matebele. It has all the appearance of salubrity, open undulating downs, with but few trees except on the hills, which are always covered with them. Both eastern and western ridges have the same character; indeed, many of the trees are identical with those on the slopes down from Cassenye, and so are the plants and rocks — mica-slate glancing in the sun like burnished gold. They extend a long way north, and missionaries would do well to push on to them as soon as possible; for these will form the standing points from which will shine forth the beams of the Sun of Righteousness. . . .
Besides banks of shells on both coasts, showing recent elevation, there are other indications in the failure of nearly all streams and fountains within the ridge whose course was to it, or westward; and if this is the geological process now going on — draining process on a vast scale — it is perhaps not too speculative to think it tends to a healthy millennium for Africa. At any rate, we know there is to be a glorious consumnation to all God’s dealings with our race. Let our missionary brethren examine whether the peculiar formation pointed out does not afford salubrious situations for Christian operations all along the continent. The promotion of commerce is an excellent means of civilization. I heartily wish success to every effort in that line, but commerce cannot touch the centre of the wants of Africa. It does not come near the point by a very wide figure. Therefore I say, Let the time come, O Lord, when the dwellers in the wilderness shall bow down before Thee. . . .
We hope to reach the coast in a month or two. It is an entirely new path; no European ever crossed the continent before. Arabs, however, have done it frequently, and it was accomplished by two native Portuguese. This fact was deemed of so much importance that it was noticed in the history of Angola. There was never any chain of stations across the continent, as mentioned by some Portuguese. Pereira’s journey to Cazembe is known; he was heard of only here. Indeed, the use they apply the ivory to shows they had it. The chief’s grave at Kalai had seventy large tusks placed round its edges, the points looking inward, the bodies sunk halfway in the ground. There were thirty on other graves.
In a newspaper report of a meeting in New York of the Geographical Society, I see Mr. Oswel is by mistake called Captain. He formerly belonged to the civil service of the East India Company, and his office was more that of a judge than anything else. The map is also spoken of as a copy of Captain Oswel’s map, and the same mistake has been made in England, certainly not by his authority, for he is scrupulously conscientious in all such matters. It was drawn by natives employed by both of us. We polished it up a little, but agreed to give it as an approximation only from native information. By ascribing it either to my friend or myself, you miss the pleasure of observing how wonderfully near the natives come to the truth as obtained by actual observation. Please do not allow this to be published. I do not grudge my generous friend one particle of the honor. If I did, I might grumble aloud. I may, however, say to you privately that the plan of employing natives speaking the language (and the execution of it alone) originated and was carried out by your own flesh and blood. . . .
Arrived at the farthest inland station at present occupied by the Portuguese, very much tired out by marching over a rough stony bushy country, without paths. But in good health. Had no fever all the way from Linyanti — thankful to God for preserving me thus far. But I am not so elated with the speedy accomplishment of the feat of crossing the continent as might be expected, for the end of the geographical feat is but the beginning of the missionary enterprise. . . . The geological features of the country from the ridges down this way show that Africa once had very much the same form with the opposite coast, (eastern) of America. Plenty of silicified wood, coal in abundance, iron for the lifting and gold for the washing, and souls to be saved by the preaching of the Cross of Christ.