292 



THE LAKE REGIONS OF CENTRAL AFRICA. 



we reached a large expanse of yellow stover where the 

 van had halted, in order that the caravan might make 

 its first appearance with dignity. Ensued a clearing, 

 studded with large stockaded villages, peering over tall 

 hedges of dark green milk-bush, fields of maize and millet, 

 manioc, gourds, and water-melons, and showing nume- 

 rous flocks and herds, clustering around the shallow pits. 

 The people swarmed from their abodes, young and old 

 hustling one another for a better stare ; the man forsook 

 his loom and the girl her hoe, and for the remainder 

 of the march we were escorted by a tail of screaming 

 boys and shouting adults ; the males almost nude, the 

 women, bare to the waist and clothed only knee-deep in 

 kilts, accompanied us, puffing pipes the while, with 

 wallets of withered or flabby flesh flapping the air, 

 striking their hoes with stones, crying " Beads! beads!" 

 and ejaculating their wonder in strident explosions of 

 "Hi! hi!— Hui! ih!" and "Ha!— a!— a!" It was a 

 spectacle to make an anchorite of a man, — it was at 

 once ludicrous and disgusting. 



At length the Kirangozi fluttered his red flag in the 

 wind, and the drums, horns, and larynxes of his fol- 

 lowers began the fearful uproar which introduces a 

 caravan to the admiring " natives.' 7 Leading the way, 

 our guide, much to my surprise, — I knew not then that 

 such was the immemorial custom of Unyamwezi, — 

 entered uninvited and sans ceremony the nearest large 

 village; the long string of porters flocked in with bag and 

 baggage, and we followed their example. The guests 

 at once dispersed themselves through the several courts 

 and compounds into which the interior hollow was di- 

 vided, and lodged themselves with as much regard for 

 self and disregard for their grumbling hosts as possible. 



