Our first day’s voyage was to some islands about four miles north of where we embarked. Here we stopped till night-time, so as not to have to pull in the heat of the sun when we started for the long voyage to the opposite shore. The point which we were to make on the opposite side was a bold headland, which Hatibu told me was called Kungwe. It was the southernmost point of land on that side visible from Kawele, and seemed to be about forty miles distant.
As soon as the sun had gone down we manned the canoes. The one in which Hatibu and I took our passage was partly manned by Zanzibar people, who pulled rude oars made of a large round piece of wood nailed on to the end of a short pole. The other two, which had crews hired to us by the chief who had taken care of this squadron of Tipolo’s, were propelled by paddles, having very small blades shaped like the ace of clubs. All our people, except the unfortunate slaves, were very merry at the prospect of reaching a place where they would meet their countrymen, and have an opportunity of learning the news from and gossiping about their beloved island and Unyanyembe, and where they could strut and swagger and brag of having been in Manyuema, and lord it over those who had never been to the west of the lake. As they laboured at the oars they sang songs which seemed destitute of tune, but contained allusions to good times they were going to have, and praised themselves as brave and fine fellows who had done so much; and when the man who sang the solo parts made a special hit all joined in the chorus with zest and pulled their hardest, making their clumsy craft fairly dance over the water.
The scenery on the lake on this beautiful night was inexpressibly lovely. The moon, which was a little past her first quarter, threw a gentle silvery light over the water, and allowed us to distinguish the outlines of the mountains by which it was surrounded. Till the moon set I sat on the poop close by Hatibu, who was steering. I was simply enjoying myself, the cool night air on the lake and the luxury of moving without labour being great. When the moon sank behind the western mountains, and the men, though they still pulled lustily, gave up singing, I lay down, and covering myself with some mats, I watched the glorious stars of the tropics, like golden lamps hanging in the blue-black heavens, till I fell asleep to dream of my father and the _Petrel_.