CHAP. III. NATIVE MUSICIANS. 63 - CHAPTER III. Return from Kebrabasa — Native musicians and their instruments — Ignorance at Tette Changes produced by rain after hot season -- Christmas in tropical dress-Opinions modified by early associations in Northern climesThe seasons at Tette-Cotton-seed not needed- African fever- Quinine not a preventive of - The best precaution and remedy- Warburgh's drops" - Expedition turns from Kebrabasa towards River Shire in January, 1859- Reported barrier to navigation-First intercourse with unknown people-Navigation of Shire - Progress prevented by Murchison's cataracts - Return to Tette-Second trip up the Shire in March, 1859- ChibisaNyanja Mukulu-Maniac guides - Discover Lake Shirwa on 18th April, 1859-Mountains-Return to vessel-Severe case of fever-Return to Tette 23rd June-Vessel found to be built of unstable materials- At Kongone in August. -- A BAND of native musicians came to our camp one evening, on our own way down, and treated us with their wild and not unpleasant music on the Marimba, an instrument formed of bars of hard wood of varying breadth and thickness, laid on different-sized hollow calabashes, and tuned to give the notes; a few pieces of cloth pleased them, and they passed on. As our companion had told us, the people were perfectly willing to sell us provisions on our way back. When we arrived at Tette the Commandant informed us that, shortly after we had left, the river rose a foot and became turbid; and on seeing this, a native Portuguese came to him with a grave countenance, and said, "That Englishman is doing something to the river." This, we regret to say, is a fair sample of the ignorance and superstition common to the native-born, and, unfortunately, sometimes shared in even by men reared. 64 DELIGHTFUL EFFECTS OF RAIN. CHAP. III. in Portugal. While we were at Tette, a Captain of Infantry was sent prisoner to Mosambique, for administering the Muave, or ordeal, and for putting the suspected person to death on that evidence alone. At the end of the hot season everything is dry and dusty ; the atmosphere is loaded with blue haze, and very sultry. After the rains begin, the face of the country changes with surprising rapidity for the better. Though we have not the moist hothouse-like atmosphere of the west coast, fresh green herbage quickly springs up over the hills and dales, so lately parched and brown. The air becomes cleared of the smoky-looking haze, and one sees to great distances with ease; the landscape is bathed in a perfect flood of light, and a delightful sense of freshness is given from everything in the morning before the glare of noon overpowers the eye. On asking one of the Bechuanas once, what he understood by the word used for "holiness" (boitsépho)? he answered, “When copious showers have descended during the night, and all the earth and leaves and cattle are washed clean, and the sun rising shows a drop of dew on every blade of grass, and the air breathes fresh, that is holiness." The young foliage of several trees, more especially on the highlands, comes out brown, pale red, or pink, like the hues of autumnal leaves in England; and as the leaves increase in size they change to a pleasant fresh light green; bright white, scarlet, pink, and yellow flowers are everywhere; and some few of dark crimson, like those of the kigelia, give warmth of colouring to Nature's garden. Many trees, such as the scarlet erythrina, attract the eye by the beauty of their blossoms. The white, full bloom of the baobab, coming at times before the rains, and the small and delicate flowers of other trees, grouped into rich clusters, deck the forest. Myriads of wild bees are CHAP. III. VARIETIES OF BIRDS AND INSECTS. 65 busy from morning till night. Some of the acacias possess a peculiar attraction for one species of beetle; while the palm allures others to congregate on its ample leaves. Insects of all sorts are now in full force; brilliant butterflies flit from flower to flower, and, with the charming little sun-birds, which represent the humming-birds of America and the West Indies, never seem to tire. Multitudes of ants are hard at work hunting for food, or bearing it home in triumph. The winter birds of passage, such as the yellow wagtail and blue drongo shrikes, have all gone, and other kinds have come; the brown kite with his piping like a boatswain's whistle, the spotted cuckoo with a call like "pula," and the roller and horn-bill with their loud high notes, are occasionally distinctly heard, though generally this harsher music is half drowned in the volume of sweet sounds poured forth from many a throbbing throat, which makes an African Christmas seem like an English May. Some birds of the weaver kind have laid aside their winter garments of a sober brown, and appear in a gay summer dress of scarlet and jet black; others have passed from green to bright yellow with patches like black velvet. The brisk little cock whydah-bird with a pink bill, after assuming his summer garb of black and white, has graceful plumes attached to his new coat; his finery, as some believe, is to please at least seven hen birds with which he is said to live. Birds of song are not entirely confined to villages; but they have in Africa so often been observed to congregate around villages, as to produce the impression that song and beauty may have been intended to please the ear and eye of man, for it is only when we approach the haunts of men that we know that the time of the singing of birds is come. We once thought that the little creatures were attracted to man only F |