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When David Livingstone lay dying in his hastily-built hut, in the heart of Africa, with his black companions Susi and Chumah attending him, almost his last words were, "How far away is the Luapula?" He knew that the river to which the Africans gave that name was only a short distance away and that it flowed northward.
One or two of the men of Ain Umast spoke Shilha, and the Susi men, hearing the cruelties of Sidi el Muktar's ruler discussed, claimed to have a far better specimen of the genus kaid in Tiensiert. He was a man indeed, ready with fire and sword at the shortest notice; his subjects called him Father of Locusts, so thoroughly did he deal with all things that could be eaten up.
As the men were quiet in their huts, Susi replied, "I can hear from the cries that the people are scaring away a buffalo from their durra fields." A few minutes later he asked, "Is this the Luapula?" "No," answered Susi, "we are in Chitambo's village." Then again, "How many days is it to the Luapula?" "I think it is three days, master," answered Susi.
I had been waiting to see Livingstone's guns returned to him every day, hoping that I should not have to use force; but when a month or more had elapsed, and still the arms had not been returned, I applied for permission to take them, which was granted. Susi, the gallant servant of Dr.
"What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?" "Yes, sir." "And is the-Doctor well?" " Not very well, sir." "Where has he been so long?" "In Manyuema." "Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming." "Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman. But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march.
As we were leaving Tura, on the 21st, Susi and Hamoydah were sent back to the Doctor, with last words from me, while we continued our march to Nghwhalah River. Two days afterwards we arrived before the village of Ngaraisa, into which the head of the caravan attempted to enter but the angry Wakimbu forcibly ejected them.
Early on April 20 the chief Chitambo came to pay a visit, but Livingstone was too weak to talk to him. The day passed, and at night the men sat round their fires and went to sleep when all was quiet. About eleven o'clock Susi was told to go to his master. Loud shouts were heard in the distance, and Livingstone asked Susi if it was their men who were making the noise.
The mad visitor to the fandak did not disturb the conversation with the keeper and the Susi muleteers, but he turned the head of a donkey in our direction and talked eagerly to the poor animal, pointing at me with outstretched finger the while.
Of course it was "just a dear time to buy": it always is. The Jew broker, through whom we bought the mules from the Susi to whom they belonged, asked seven pounds ten for each of them, but came down to six pounds fifteen. We sold them some weeks later for five guineas each: hiring would have cost a great deal more. Ordinarily they are to be bought for five pounds and less in Mogador.
The day of parting came March 14, 1872. Stanley was very depressed, believing that the parting was for ever. Livingstone went with him a little way and then bade him a hearty farewell, and while Stanley made haste towards the coast the Doctor turned back to Tabora and was again alone in the immense wilds of Africa. But he had still his faithful servants Susi and Chuma with him.
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