Dr.David Livingstone: Missionary & Explorer ( with subtitles ) [ Movie Clip]

Our guides say that this lake is Tanganyika, this village Ujiji, Livingston's hiding place for which we have searched so long. It's hard to believe. I'm afraid it's only a feverish mirage and it will vanish before my eyes. After all these months of disappointments, can I dare believe that I have won? The next few moments will give me the answer. Dr. Livingston, I presume? Yes. I'm thankful that I'm here to welcome you, Mr... Stanley. Mr. Stanley. You're not well, Mr. Stanley. Come in. I've had a fever. I've been traveling day and night since I found out you were here. It's been over a year since we left Zanzibar. Sit down. Then it isn't merely luck that you came. No. No, I came to find you, doctor. To find me? Now tell me, Mr. Stanley, were you sent here by the government or by the Royal Geographical Society? Neither. I was sent by the New York Herald. Newspaper. I see. I'm rather ungrateful, Mr. Stanley. But you see, I'm neither lost nor am I hiding. If I had intended to go back, I should have done so long ago. I have no intention of leaving Africa until my work here is finished. Oh, I know how you must feel after undergoing such hardships to discover that the man that you were sent out to rescue has no desire to be rescued. What are you doing there? Ulysses, mama. Ulysses, mama. Ulysses, mama. Come on, what did you take? Give it to me. Ulysses, mama. Ulysses, mama. Ulysses, mama. Ulysses, mama. What has happened, Mr. Stanley? I caught him going through my baggage. Come to Africa, Bongo. You struck him? Yes, of course. You shouldn't have done that, Mr. Stanley. Bongo, you promised me you'd stop stealing. Samasana, you the hapanichibu. Bongo says he is sorry and asks your pardon, Mr. Stanley. Forgive me for speaking to you so sharply, Mr. Stanley. You should never strike one of these simple people. They respond in kind to the treatment they receive. They know enough of brutality without white men teaching them more. I'm sorry that you were inconvenienced. Good night, Mr. Stanley. Well, well, well, Omba. What's this? Mayurimo? Susie? Yes, master. Susie, fetch medicine box. And the wound. That's it. That's the way. Omba will help. He's in splendid physical condition. His father was a manyma cannibal. If Omba hadn't come to live here, his teeth would have been fouled by now. They're fine people, the manyma, in many ways. Strict sense of honor. Magnificent physical specimens. They have a great capacity for leadership. Someday Omba will be a great leader. Teacher. Now keep the bandage on or you'll get dirt in the wound. Very proud, Omba. He has real talent. From what I've seen of Africa, I'd say you've got a job on your hands. Oh, it's much the same in any new country. Susie, bring my map case. Yes, master. White men have seen Africa only through the eyes of ignorance. And that means through the eyes of fear. You're a newspaper man, Mr. Stanley. You know something of human nature. I may be in the market to learn something more. What keeps the white man away from Africa? A lot of things, I guess. Fear. Fear of the unknown. Thank you, Susie. Fear of a blank space on the map. Fill in that blank space. Drive away that fear. Let me show you. This is the watershed for the whole continent. From here spring the great rivers that find their way to the Atlantic, the Indian Ocean and the Mediterranean. Solve the mystery of those rivers, the Congo and the rest. Above all, solve the mystery of the source of the Nile, which has puzzled geographers since the days of Ptolemy. And you drive away the clouds of ignorance and fear. Give the world an honest, accurate map of Africa. It is no longer the dark continent. Then others will come. Not only missionaries. Doctors, teachers, pioneers. They will bring civilization. Drive away the slave trader. And spread word of the brotherhood of man in the continent, which never before in all its history has heard one single syllable of kindness or hope. Well, I must say, Dr. Livingston, you're not exactly my idea of a missionary. Mine is a much maligned profession. It is possible, you know, to serve one's God faithfully without entirely losing one's human perspective. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's time for Sunday school. I have persuaded Dr. Livingston to take me with him on a visiting trip around what he calls his parish. This is undoubtedly the largest parish in the world, including, as it does, some thousands of square miles. The doctor is remarkable. Not only does he care for the souls and bodies of the people of the villages where we stop, but he takes a keen interest in natural history, classifying the flora and fauna we come across. His eternal quest to fill in those blank spaces on the map. You never told me you had had fever. I haven't had an attack for some months now. I suppose it's in the bones. Well, I know one thing, doctor. When I leave Africa, you're going with me. No, my son. If I left here, I should never come back. This is my life, my work. I shall stay here until I die. We are returning to you, Gigi. Never in my life have I known a man so uncomplaining. Even though he is wracked with fever, he is already planning his next expedition, his next achievement. I thank God I have been permitted to know him. The weeks have passed quickly, too quickly. But all good things must come to an end. Tomorrow, Jeff and I are leaving on our return journey to the coast, and all you, Gigi, has turned out for a farewell party in our honor. You can help if you want to. You know what I'm trying to do here. When you write your story about how you found me, write mine, too. Be my voice. Tell them that I need assistance. Tell them that I need medicine, supplies, even other geographers, if that is possible. Tell them how much work there is to be done. Will you do that? Of course, doctor. This time I know my message will go through. But we are parting. I to civilization, he to his lone battle against incredible dangers and hardships. Weak as he is, he thinks only of his duty and his dream, with nothing to sustain him but his own high spirit and enduring faith in his God, who he believes will bring all things right at last. My guides will take you as far as Uniamiambe. From there you follow the watershed, keeping the mountains on your left, until you strike the main trade route. You should reach Zanzibar in a fifth of the time that it took you to come in. I'm counting on you, my son. I'll do my best, sir. I promise you that. I'll leave it with you. May God bring you to safety. Goodbye, doctor. Oh, doctor, I almost forgot. Would you give this to Bongo if you think he'd like it? I'm sure he will be most grateful. Thank you.