"The chief interest in Lake Moero," says Livingstone, "is that it forms one of a chain of lakes, connected by a river some 500 miles in length. First of all, the Chambezé rises in the country of Mambwé, N.E. of Molemba; it then flows southwest and west, till it reaches lat. 11° S., and long. 29° E., where it forms Lake Bemba or Bangweolo; emerging thence, it assumes the name of Luapula, and comes down here to fall into Moero. On going out of this lake it is known by the name of Lualaba, as it flows N.W. in Rua to form another lake with many islands, called Urengé or Ulengé. Beyond this, information is not positive as to whether it enters Lake Tanganyika, or another lake beyond that.... Since coming to Casembe's, the testimony of natives and Arabs has been so united and consistent, that I am but ten days from Lake Bemba or Bangweolo, that I cannot doubt its accuracy."
The detentions experienced in 1867 were long and wearisome, and Livingstone disliked them because he was never well when doing nothing. His light reading must have been pretty well exhausted; even _Smith's Dictionary of the Bible_, which accompanied him in these wanderings, and which we have no doubt he read throughout, must have got wearisome sometimes. He occupied himself in writing letters, in the hope that somehow or sometime he might find an opportunity of despatching them. He took the rainfall carefully during the year, and lunars and other observations, when the sky permitted. He had intended to make his observations more perfect on this journey than on any previous one, but alas for his difficulties and disappointments! A letter to Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann, his assistant, gives a pitiful account of these: "I came this journey with a determination to observe very carefully all your hints as to occupations and observations, east and west, north and south, but I have been so worried by lazy, deceitful Sepoys, and thievish Johanna men, and indifferent instruments, that I fear the results are very poor." He goes on to say that some of his instruments were defective, and others went out of order, and that his time-taker, one of his people, had no conscience, and could not be trusted. The records of his observations, notwithstanding, indicate much care and pains. In April, he had been very unwell, taking fits of total insensibility, but as he had not said anything of this to his people at home, it was to be kept a secret.
His Journal for 1867 ends with a statement of the poverty of his food, and the weakness to which he was reduced. He had hardly anything to eat but the coarsest grain of the country, and no tea, coffee, or sugar. An Arab trader, Mohamad Bogharib, who arrived at Casembe's about the same time, presented him with a meal of vermicelli, oil, and honey, and had some coffee and sugar; Livingstone had had none since he left Nyassa.
The Journal for 1868 begins with a prayer that if he should die that year, he might be prepared for it. The year was spent in the same region, and was signalized by the discovery of Lake Bemba, or, as it may more properly be called, Lake Bangweolo, Early in the year he heard accounts of what interested him greatly--certain underground houses in Rua, ranging along a mountain side for twenty miles. In some cases the doorways were level with the country adjacent; in others, ladders were used to climb up to them; inside they were said to be very large, and not the work of men, but of God. He became eagerly desirous to visit these mysterious dwellings.
Circumstances turning out more favorable to his going to Lake Bangweolo, Dr. Livingstone put off his journey to Ujiji, on which his men had been counting, and much against the advice of Mohamad, his trader friend and companion, determined first to see the lake of which he had heard so much. The consequence was a rebellion among his men. With the exception of five, they refused to go with him. They had been considerably demoralized by contact with the Arab trader and his slave-gang. Dr. Livingstone took this rebellion with wonderful placidity, for in his own mind he could not greatly blame them. It was no wonder they were tired of the everlasting tramping, for he was sick of it himself. He reaped the fruit of his mildness by the men coming back to him, on his return from the lake, and offering their services. It cannot be said of him that he was not disposed to make any allowance for human weakness. When recording a fault, and how he dealt with it, he often adds, "consciousness of my own defects makes me lenient." "I also have my weaknesses."