How I Found Livingstone: Travels, Adventures and Discoveries in Central Africa: Including an Account of Four Months' Residence with Dr. Livingstone. New York: Scribner, Armstrong & Co., 1872. Inscribed by Stanley to his publisher, J. Blair Scribner. [Rare Books Division]

"Simba-Mwenni, the ‘Lion City', Capital of Uregukha"

Following the latitudinal valley of the Ungerengeri, within two hours on the following morning we passed close under the wall of the capital of Useguhha—Simbamwenni. The first view of the walled town at the western foot of the Uruguru mountains, with its fine valley abundantly beautiful, watered by two rivers, and several pellucid streams of water distilled by the dew and cloud-enriched heights around, was one that we did not anticipate to meet in Eastern Africa. . . . The town may contain a population of 3,000, having about 1,000 houses; being so densely crowded perhaps 5,000 would more closely approximate. The houses in the town are eminently African, but of the best type of construction. . . . The area of the town is about half a square mile, its plan being quadrangular. Well-built towers of stone guard each corner; four gates, one facing each cardinal point, and set half-way between the several towers, permit ingress and egress for its inhabitants. The gates are closed with solid square doors made of African teak, and carved with infinitesimally fine and complicated devices of the Arabs . . . The Sultana is the eldest daughter of the famous Kisabengo, a name infamous throughout the neighbouring countries of Udoe, Ukami, Ukwere, Kingaru, Ukwenni, and Kiranga-Wanna, for his kidnapping propensities. . . . On its most desirable site, with the river flowing close under the walls, he built his capital, and called it Simbamwenni, which means "The Lion," or the strongest city. [pp. 115-117]

“Discomforts of African Travel — The Makata Swamp”

For thirty miles from our camp was the Makata plain, an extensive swamp. The water was on an average one foot in depth; in some places we plunged into holes three, four, and even five feet deep. Plash, splash, plash, splash, were the only sounds we heard from the commencement of the march until we found the bomas occupying the only dry spots along the line of march. This kind of work continued for two days, until we came in sight of the Rudewa river. . . . After three hours of splashing through four feet of water we reached dry land, and had traversed the swamp of Makata. But not without the swamp with its horrors having left a durable impression upon our minds; no one was disposed to forget its fatigues, nor the nausea of travel which it almost engendered. Subsequently, we had to remember its passage still more vividly, and to regret that we had undertaken the journey during the Masika season, when the animals died from this date by twos and threes, almost every day, until but five sickly worn-out beasts remained; when the Wanguana, soldiers, and pagazis sickened of diseases innumerable; when I myself was finally compelled to lie a-bed with an attack of acute dysentery which brought me to the verge of the grave. [pp. 140-41]

“Ma-Manyara Takes Medicine”

After having explained to them the difference between white men and Arabs, I pulled out my medicine chest, which evoked another burst of rapturous sighs at the cunning neatness of the array of vials. He asked what they meant.
“Dowa,” I replied sententiously, a word which may be interpreted—medicine.
. . . I next produced a bottle of concentrated ammonia, which as I explained was for snake bites, and headaches; the Sultan immediately complained he had a head-ache, and must have a little. Telling him to close his eyes, I suddenly uncorked the bottle, and presented it to his Majesty’s nose. The effect was magical, for he fell back as if shot, and such contortions as his features underwent are indescribable. His chiefs roared with laughter, and clapped their hands, pinched each other, snapped their fingers, and committed many other ludicrous things. . . . Finally, the Sultan recovered himself, great tears rolling down his cheeks, and his features quivering with laughter . . . “Oh,” said the Sultan at parting, “these white men know everything, the Arabs are dirt compared to them!” [pp. 334-35]

“Dr. Livingstone, I Presume?”

My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances. So I did that which I thought was most dignified. I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, in the front of which stood the white man with the grey beard. As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, look wearied, had a grey beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a pair of grey tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob—would have embraced him, only, he being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing—walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said:
            “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”
            “Yes,” said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly. [pp. 411-12]

“At the Mouth of the Rusizi”

We had thus examined each of its three mouths, and settled all doubts as to the Rusizi being an effluent or influent. . . . There was now no doubt any more on that point. . . . Had we contented ourselves with simply looking at the conformation, and the meeting of the eastern and western ranges, we should have said that the lake ended in a point, as Captain Speke has sketched it on his map. But its exploration dissolved that idea. . . . I should not omit to state here, that though the Doctor and I have had to contend against the strong current of the Rusizi River, as it flowed swift and strong INTO the Tanganika, the Doctor still adheres to the conviction that, whatever part the Rusizi plays, there must be an outlet to the Tanganika somewhere, from the fact that all fresh-water lakes have outlets. . . .One thing is evident to me, and I believe to the Doctor, that Sir Samuel Baker will have to curtail the Albert N’Yanza by one, if not two degrees of latitude. That well-known traveller has drawn his lake far into the territory of the Warundi, while Ruanda had been placed on the eastern side; whereas a large portion of it, if not all, should be placed north of what has been designated on his map as Usige. [pp. 505-6]

“On Lake Tanganika — Homeward Bound”

The 27th of December has arrived; it is the day of our departure from Ujiji. I was probably about to give an eternal farewell to the port, whose name will for ever be consecrate in my memory. The canoes—great lumbering hollow trees—are laden with good things; the rowers are in their places; the flag of England is hoisted at the stern of the Doctor’s canoe; the flag of America waves and rustles joyously above mine; and I cannot look at them without feeling a certain pride that the two Anglo-Saxon nations are represented this day on this great inland sea, in the face of wild nature and barbarism. [p. 566]

Through the Dark Continent; or, The Sources of the Nile Around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa, and Down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic Ocean. 2 vols. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1878. [Rare Books Division]

While returning to England in April 1874 from the Ashantee War, the news reached me that Livingstone was dead—that his body was on its way to England! . . . The effect which this news had upon me, after the first shock had passed away, was to fire me with a resolution to complete his work, to be, if God willed it, the next martyr to geographical science, or, if my life was to be spared, to clear up not only the secrets of the Great River [Congo] throughout its course, but also all that remained still problematic and incomplete of the discoveries of Burton and Speke, and Speke and Grant.

— Stanley (p. 1)

“Burying Our Dead in Hostile Turu: View of Our Camp”

"Mtesa, the Emperor of Uganda, Prime Minister, and Chiefs"

We had bathed, brushed, cleaned ourselves, and were prepared externally and mentally for the memorable hour when we should meet the Foremost Man of Equatorial Africa. . . . The Kabala, a tall, clean-faced, large-eyed, nervous-looking, thin man, clad in a tarbush, black robe, with a white shirt belted with gold, shook my hands warmly and impressively, and, bowing not ungracefully, invited me to be seated on an iron stool. . . . The chief reason for [my] admiration lay, probably, in the surprise with which I viewed the man whom Speke had beheld as a boy—and who was described by him through about two hundred pages of his book as a vain, foolish, peevish, headstrong youth and a murderous despot—sedate and composed in manner, intelligent in his questions and remarks beyond anything I expected to meet in Africa. That I should see him so well dressed, the centre of a court equally well dressed and intelligent, that he should have obtained supremacy over a great region into which moneyed strangers and soldiers from Cairo and Zanzibar flocked for the sake of its supreme head, that his subjects should speak of him with respect, and his guests, so far as I could gather, honour him, were minor causes, which, I venture to consider, were sufficient to win my favourable judgment. [Vol. I, pp. 192-194]

"One of the Great Naval Battles Between the Waganda and the Wavuma, in the Channel Between Ingira Island and Cape Nakaranga"

It was now the 5th of October, and I had left my camp on the 12th of August. It was necessary that I should participate in some manner in the war and end it. Yet I scarcely knew how I should act effectively to produce results beneficial to all parties. For though my own interests and the welfare of the Expedition were involved and in a manner staked on the success of the Waganda, and though a passive partisan of Mtesa, yet the brave Wavuma, by their magnificent daring and superb courage, had challenged my fullest sympathies. My energies and thoughts were bent, therefore, upon discovering a solution of the problem how to injure none, yet satisfy all. It was clear that the Wavuma would not surrender without a frightful waste of life; it was equally evident that Mtesa would not relax his hold upon them without some compensation or satisfaction, nor assist me in my projects of exploration unless I aided him in some manner. At length I devised a plan which I thought would succeed . . . [Vol. 1, p. 334]

“Rubaga, The New Capital of the Emperor Mtesa”

Within three hours’ march from Usavara, we saw the capital crowning the summit of a smooth rounded hill—a large cluster of tall conical grass huts, in the centre of which rose a spacious, lofty, barn-like structure. The large building, we were told, was the palace! the hill, Rubaga; the cluster of huts, the imperial capital! From each side of the tall cane fence enclosing the grass huts on Rubaga hill radiated very broad avenues, imperial enough in width. . . . Like the enclosure round the palace courts and quarters, each avenue was fenced with tall matete (water cane) neatly set very close together in uniform rows. . . .In the afternoon I was invited to the palace. . . . Court after court was passed until we finally stood upon the level top in front of the great house of cane and straw which the Waganda fondly term Kibuga, or the Palace. The space at least was of aulic extent, and the prospect gained at every point was also worthy of the imperial eyes of the African monarch. On all sides rolled in grand waves a voluptuous land of sunshine, and plenty, and early summer verdure, cooled by soft breezes from the great equatorial freshwater sea. Isolated hill-cones, similar to that of Rubaga, or square tabular masses, rose up from the beautiful landscape to attract, like mysteries, the curious stranger’s observation, and villages and banana groves of still fresher green, far removed on the crest of distant swelling ridges, announced that Mtesa owned a land worth loving. [Vol. 1, pp. 199-201]

“Marching Through Unyoro: Mount Gordon-Bennett in the Distance”

On New Year’s Day, 1876, the exploring army, nearly 2800 strong, filed out from under the plantain shades of Kawanga, each detachment under the flag of its respective leader, and each known by the particular style of music adopted by the great chief to whom it owed martial service. . . . [W]e were drawn up in a long line along the narrow road. Sekajugu was appointed to take the advance, Lukoma the rear, Sambuzi and the Anglo-American Expedition the centre, while the smaller detachments, under Colonels Ngezi, Mrowla, and Kurji, took positions on the right and left, to keep the main column undisturbed by ambuscades. . . . The next day we crossed the Katonga, for our course was now westerly, and occupied Western Benga, from the summit of a tall hill in which we obtained a faint view of an enormous blue mass afar off, which we were told was the Great Mountain, in the country of Gambaragara. I named it Gordon-Bennett, in honour of my American chief. [Vol. 1, pp. 429, 431]

"Ujiji, Looking North from the Market-Place, Viewed from the Roof of Our Tembé at Ujiji"

The best view of Ujiji is to be obtained from the flat roof of one of the Arab tembés or houses. The annexed photograph represents a view north from my tembé, which fronted the market-place. It embraces the square and conical huts of the Wangwana, Wanyamwezi, and Arab slaves, the Guinea palms from the golden-coloured nuts of which the Wajiji obtain the palm-oil, the banana and plantain groves, with here and there a graceful papaw-tree rising amongst them, and, beyond, the dark green woods which line the shore and are preserved for shade by the fishermen. [Vol. II, pp. 1]

"The Desperate Situation of Zaidi, and His Rescue by Uledi, the Coxswain of the Boat"

The great fall at the north end of Ntunduru Island happens to be disparted by a single pointed rock, and on this the canoe was driven, and, borne down by the weight of the waters, was soon split in two, one side of which got jammed below, and the other was tilted upward. To this the almost drowned man clung, while perched on the rocky point, with his ankles washed by the stream. To his left, as he faced up-stream, there was a stretch of 50 yards of falling water; to his right were nearly fifty yards of leaping brown waves, while, close behind him the water fell down sheer six to eight feet, through a gap 10 yards wide, between the rocky point on which he perched and a rocky islet 30 yards long. When called to the scene by his weeping friends, from my labours up-river, I could scarcely believe my eyes, or realise the strange chance which placed him there, and certainly, a more critical position than the poor fellow was in cannot be imagined. [Vol. II, pp. 232]

"The Attack of the Sixty-three Canoes of the Piratical Bangala"

The conflict began in earnest, and last so long that ammunition had to be distributed. We perceived that, as the conflict continued, every village sent out its quota. . . . At three o'clock I counted sixty-three opposed to us. . . . And, allowing five guns on an average to each of the sixty-three canoes, there were 315 muskets opposed to our forty-four. Their mistake was in supposing their slugs to have the same penetrative effect and long range as our missiles had. Only a few of the boldest approached, after they had experienced our fire, within a hundred yards. The young chief already mentioned frequently charged to within fifty yards, and delivered a smashing charge of missiles, almost all of which were either too low or too high. Finally Manwa Sera wounded him with a Snider bullet in the thigh. The brave fellow coolly, and in presence of us all, took a piece of cloth and deliberately bandaged it, and then calmly retreated towards the shore. The action was so noble and graceful that orders were given to let him withdraw unmolested. After his departure the firing became desultory, and at 5.30 P.M. our antagonists retired, leaving us to attend to our wounded, and to give three hearty cheers at our success. This was our thirty-first fight on the terrible river—the last but one—and certainly the most determined conflict that we had endured. [Vol. II, pp. 300-301]

“Cutting Out the New ‘Livingstone’ Canoe”

In the meantime, as absolute idleness would have been subversive of that energy which had to characterize us during this period, we set to work cutting down a teak-tree, and for this job selected forty men, twenty of whom were allotted to Frank for nightwork, and twenty I reserved for a day party. The tree was 13 feet 3 inches in circumference, and when prostrate we possessed a clear branchless log 55 feet in length. . . . On the 22nd May the magnificent teak canoe Livingstone, perfectly complete, was launched with the aid of one hundred happy and good-humoured natives, into the Nzabi Creek, in the presence of the Nzabi chief and his three wives. In order to prove its capacity we embarked forty-six people, which only brought its gunwales within six inches of the water. Its measurements were 54 feet in length, 2 feet 4 inches deep, and 3 feet 2 inches wide. With the completion of this third canoe, our flotilla now consisted of twelve large canoes and one boat, the whole being of sufficient capacity to transport the Expedition should we ever be fortunate enough in arriving at that “Tuckey’s Cataract” of which I was in search. [Vol. 2, pp. 369, 371-72]

“Group of Mr. Stanley’s Followers at Kabinda, West Coast of Africa, Just After Crossing the ‘Dark Continent’”

Brave, faithful, loyal souls! . . . It is not without an overwhelming sense of grief, a choking in the throat and swimming eyes, that I write of those days, for my memory is still busy with the worth and virtues of the dead. In a thousand fields of incident, adventure, and bitter trials they had proved their staunch heroism and their fortitude; they had lived and endured nobly. I remember the enthusiasm with which they responded to my appeals; I remember their bold bearing during the darkest days; I remember the Spartan pluck, the indomitable courage with which they suffered in the days of our adversity. Their voices again loyally answer me, and again I hear them address each other upon the necessity of standing by the “master.” . . . And thus, aided by their willing hands and their loyal hearts, the Expedition had been successful, and the three great problems of the Dark Continent’s geography had been fairly solved. [Vol. 2, pp. 471, 483; italics added]