While we were employed in these operations, some of the poor starved people about had been in the habit of crossing the river, and reaping the self-sown mapira, in the old gardens of their countrymen.In the afternoon of the 9th, a canoe came floating down empty, and shortly after a woman was seen swimming near the other side, which was about two hundred yards distant from us.Our native crew manned the boat, and rescued her; when brought on board, she was found to have an arrow-head, eight or ten inches long, in her back, below the ribs, and slanting up through the diaphragm and left lung, towards the heart--she had been shot from behind when stooping.Air was coming out of the wound, and, there being but an inch of the barbed arrow-head visible, it was thought better not to run the risk of her dying under the operation necessary for its removal; so we carried her up to her own hut.One of her relatives was less scrupulous, for he cut out the arrow and part of the lung.Mr. Young sent her occasionally portions of native corn, and strange to say found that she not only became well, but stout.The constitution of these people seems to have a wonderful power of self-repair--and it could be no slight privation which had cut off the many thousands that we saw dead around us.
We regretted that, in consequence of Dr. Meller having now sole medical charge, we could not have his company in our projected trip;but he found employment in botany and natural history, after the annual sickly season of March, April, and May was over; and his constant presence was not so much required at the ship.Later in the year, when he could be well spared, he went down the river to take up an appointment he had been offered in Madagascar; but unfortunately was so severely tried by illness while detained at the coast, that for nearly two years he was not able to turn his abilities as a naturalist to account by proceeding to that island.We have no doubt but he will yet distinguish himself in that untrodden field.
On the 16th of June we started for the Upper Cataracts, with a mule-cart, our road lying a distance of a mile west from the river.We saw many of the deserted dwellings of the people who formerly came to us; and were very much struck by the extent of land under cultivation, though that, compared with the whole country, is very small.Large patches of mapira continued to grow,--as it is said it does from the roots for three years.The mapira was mixed with tall bushes of the Congo-bean, castor-oil plants, and cotton.The largest patch of this kind we paced, and found it to be six hundred and thirty paces on one side--the rest were from one acre to three, and many not more than one-third of an acre.The cotton--of very superior quality--was now dropping off the bushes, to be left to rot-
-there was no one to gather what would have been of so much value in Lancashire.The huts, in the different villages we entered, were standing quite perfect.The mortars for pounding corn--the stones for grinding it--the water and beer pots--the empty corn-safes and kitchen utensils, were all untouched; and most of the doors were shut, as if the starving owners had gone out to wander in search of roots or fruits in the forest, and had never returned.When opened, several huts revealed a ghastly sight of human skeletons.Some were seen in such unnatural positions, as to give the idea that they had expired in a faint, when trying to reach something to allay the gnawings of hunger.
We took several of the men as far as the Mukuru-Madse for the sake of the change of air and for occupation, and also to secure for the ships a supply of buffalo meat--as those animals were reported to be in abundance on that stream.But though it was evident from the tracks that the report was true, it was impossible to get a glimpse of them.The grass being taller than we were, and pretty thickly planted, they always knew of our approach before we saw them.And the first intimation we had of their being near was the sound they made in rushing over the stones, breaking the branches, and knocking their horns against each other.Once, when seeking a ford for the cart, at sunrise, we saw a herd slowly wending up the hill-side from the water.Sending for a rifle, and stalking with intense eagerness for a fat beefsteak, instead of our usual fare of salted provisions, we got so near that we could hear the bulls uttering their hoarse deep low, but could see nothing except the mass of yellow grass in front; suddenly the buffalo-birds sounded their alarm-whistle, and away dashed the troop, and we got sight of neither birds nor beasts.
This would be no country for a sportsman except when the grass is short.The animals are wary, from the dread they have of the poisoned arrows.Those of the natives who do hunt are deeply imbued with the hunting spirit, and follow the game with a stealthy perseverance and cunning, quite extraordinary.The arrow making no noise, the herd is followed up until the poison takes effect, and the wounded animal falls out.It is then patiently watched till it drops--a portion of meat round the wound is cut away, and all the rest eaten.
