Difficulties and hardships of journey—­His traveling kit—­Four books—­His Journal—­Mode of traveling—­Beauty of country—­Repulsiveness of the people—­Their religious belief—­The negro—­Preaching—­The magic-lantern—­Loneliness of feeling—­Slave-trade—­Management of the natives—­Danger from Chiboque—­from another chief—­Livingstone ill of fever—­At the Quango—­Attachment of followers—­“The good time coming”—­Portuguese settlements—­Great kindness of the Portuguese—­Arrives at Loanda—­Received by Mr. Gabriel—­His great friendship—­No letters—­News through Mr. Gabriel—­Livingstone becomes aquainted with naval officers—­Resolves to go back to Linyanti and make for East Coast—­Letter to his wife—­Correspondence with Mr. Maclear—­Accuracy of his observations—­Sir John Herschel—­Geographical Society award their gold metal—­Remarks of Lord Ellesmere.

The journey from Linyanti to Loanda occupied from the 11th November, 1853, to 31st May, 1854.  It was in many ways the most difficult and dangerous that Livingstone had yet performed, and it drew out in a very wonderful manner the rare combination of qualities that fitted him for his work.  The route had never been traversed, so far as any trustworthy tradition went, by any European.  With the exception of a few of Sekeletu’s tusks, the oxen needed for carrying, and a trifling amount of coffee, cloth, beads, etc., Livingstone had neither stores of food for his party, nor presents with which to propitiate the countless tribes of rapacious and suspicious savages that lined his path.  The Barotse men who accompanied him, usually called the “Makololo,” though on the whole faithful and patient, “the best that ever accompanied me,” were a burden in one sense, as much as a help in another; chicken-hearted, ready to succumb to every trouble, and to be cowed by any chief that wore a threatening face.  Worse if possible, Livingstone himself was in wretched health.  During this part of the journey he had constant attacks of intermittent fever[40], accompanied in the latter stages of the road with dysentery of the most distressing kind.  In the intervals of fever he was often depressed alike in body and in mind.  Often the party were destitute of food of any sort, and never had they food suitable for a fever-stricken invalid.  The vexations he encountered were of no common kind:  at starting, the greater part of his medicines was stolen, much though he needed them; in the course of the journey, his pontoon was left behind; at one time, while he was under the influence of fever, his riding-ox threw him, and he fell heavily on his head; at another, while crossing a river, the ox tossed him into the water; the heavy rains, and the necessity of wading through streams three or four times a day, kept him almost constantly wet; and occasionally, to vary the annoyance, mosquitos would assail him as fiercely as if they had been waging a war of extermination.  The most critical moments of peril, demanding the