How I Found Livingstone, by Sir Henry M. Stanley, G.c.b.

* It is a courteous custom in Africa to address elderly
people as "Baba," (Father.)

"The white man I left in the house of Sayd, the son of Salim—my house—at Kwihara."

"I told you so. When you described him to me as a drunken man, I knew he could not live. Men who have been habitual drunkards cannot live in this country, any more than men who have become slaves to other vices. I attribute the deaths that occurred in my expedition on the Zambezi to much the same cause."

"Ah, Doctor, there are two of us gone. I shall be the third, if this fever lasts much longer."

"Oh no, not at all. If you would have died from fever, you would have died at Ujiji when you had that severe attack of remittent. Don't think of it. Your fever now is only the result of exposure to wet. I never travel during the wet season. This time I have travelled because I was anxious, and I did not wish to detain you at Ujiji."

"Well, there is nothing like a good friend at one's back in this country to encourage him, and keep his spirits up. Poor Shaw! I am sorry—very sorry for him. How many times have I not endeavoured to cheer him up! But there was no life in him. And among the last words I said to him, before parting, were, 'Remember, if you return to Unyanyembe, you die!'"

We also obtained news from the chief of Sayd bin Habib's caravan that several packets of letters and newspapers, and boxes, had arrived for me from Zanzibar by my messengers and Arabs; that Selim, the son of Sheikh Hashid of Zanzibar, was amongst the latest arrivals in Unyanyembe. The Doctor also reminded me with the utmost good-nature that, according to his accounts, he had a stock of jellies and crackers, soups, fish, and potted ham, besides cheese, awaiting him in Unyanyembe, and that he would be delighted to share his good things; whereupon I was greatly cheered, and, during the repeated attacks of fever I suffered about this time, my imagination loved to dwell upon the luxuries at Unyanyembe. I pictured myself devouring the hams and crackers and jellies like a madman. I lived on my raving fancies. My poor vexed brain rioted on such homely things as wheaten bread and butter, hams, bacon, caviare, and I would have thought no price too high to pay for them. Though so far away and out of the pale of Europe and America, it was a pleasure to me, during the athumia or despondency into which I was plunged by ever recurring fevers, to dwell upon them. I wondered that people who had access to such luxuries should ever get sick, and become tired of life. I thought that if a wheaten loaf with a nice pat of fresh butter were presented to me, I would be able, though dying, to spring up and dance a wild fandango.

Though we lacked the good things of this life above named, we possessed salted giraffe and pickled zebra tongues; we had ugali made by Halimah herself; we had sweet potatoes, tea, coffee, dampers, or slap jacks; but I was tired of them. My enfeebled stomach, harrowed and irritated with medicinal compounds, with ipecac, colocynth, tartar-emetic, quinine, and such things, protested against the coarse food. "Oh, for a wheaten loaf!" my soul cried in agony. "Five hundred dollars for one loaf of bread!"

The Doctor, somehow or another, despite the incessant rain, the dew, fog, and drizzle, the marching, and sore feet, ate like a hero, and I manfully, sternly, resolved to imitate the persevering attention he paid to the welfare of his gastric powers; but I miserably failed.

Dr. Livingstone possesses all the attainments of a traveller. His knowledge is great about everything concerning Africa—the rocks, the trees, the fruits, and their virtues, are known to him. He is also full of philosophic reflections upon ethnological matter. With camp-craft, with its cunning devices, he is au fait. His bed is luxurious as a spring mattress. Each night he has it made under his own supervision. First, he has two straight poles cut, three or four inches in diameter; which are laid parallel one with another, at the distance of two feet; across these poles are laid short sticks, saplings, three feet long, and over them is laid a thick pile of grass; then comes a piece of waterproof canvas and blankets—and thus a bed has been improvised fit for a king.

It was at Livingstone's instigation I purchased milch goats, by which, since leaving Ujiji, we have had a supply of fresh milk for our tea and coffee three times a day. Apropos of this, we are great drinkers of these welcome stimulants; we seldom halt drinking until we have each had six or seven cups. We have also been able to provide ourselves with music, which, though harsh, is better than none. I mean the musical screech of parrots from Manyuema.

Half-way between Mwaru—Kamirambo's village—and the deserted Tongoni of Ukamba, I carved the Doctor's initials and my own on a large tree, with the date February 2nd. I have been twice guilty of this in Africa once when we were famishing in Southern Uvinza I inscribed the date, my initials, and the word "Starving," in large letters on the trunk of a sycamore.

In passing through the forest of Ukamba, we saw the bleached skull of an unfortunate victim to the privations of travel. Referring to it, the Doctor remarked that he could never pass through an African forest, with its solemn stillness and serenity, without wishing to be buried quietly under the dead leaves, where he would be sure to rest undisturbed. In England there was no elbow-room, the graves were often desecrated; and ever since he had buried his wife in the woods of Shupanga he had sighed for just such a spot, where his weary bones would receive the eternal rest they coveted.

The same evening, when the tent door was down, and the interior was made cheerful by the light of a paraffin candle, the Doctor related to me some incidents respecting the career and the death of his eldest son, Robert. Readers of Livingstone's first book, 'South Africa,' without which no boy should be, will probably recollect the dying Sebituane's regard for the little boy "Robert." Mrs. Livingstone and family were taken to the Cape of Good Hope, and thence sent to England, where Robert was put in the charge of a tutor; but wearied of inactivity, when he was about eighteen, he left Scotland and came to Natal, whence he endeavoured to reach his father. Unsuccessful in his attempt, he took ship and sailed for New York, and enlisted in the Northern Army, in a New Hampshire regiment of Volunteers, discarding his own name of Robert Moffatt Livingstone, and taking that of Rupert Vincent that his tutor, who seems to have been ignorant of his duties to the youth, might not find him. From one of the battles before Richmond, he was conveyed to a North Carolina hospital, where he died from his wounds.

On the 7th of February we arrived at the Gombe, and camped near one of its largest lakes. This lake is probably several miles in length, and swarms with hippopotami and crocodiles.

From this camp I despatched Ferajji, the cook, and Chowpereh to Unyanyembe, to bring the letters and medicines that were sent to me from Zanzibar, and meet us at Ugunda, while the next day we moved to our old quarters on the Gombe, where we were first introduced to the real hunter's paradise in Central Africa. The rain had scattered the greater number of the herds, but there was plenty of game in the vicinity. Soon after breakfast I took Khamisi and Kalulu with me for a hunt. After a long walk we arrived near a thin jungle, where I discovered the tracks of several animals—boar, antelope, elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and an unusual number of imprints of the lion's paw. Suddenly I heard Khamisi say, "Master, master! here is a 'simba!' (lion);" and he came up to me trembling with excitement and fear—for the young fellow was an arrant coward—to point out the head of a beast, which could be seen just above the tall grass, looking steadily towards us. It immediately afterwards bounded from side to side, but the grass was so high that it was impossible to tell exactly what it was. Taking advantage of a tree in my front, I crept quietly onwards, intending to rest the heavy rifle against it, as I was so weak from the effects of several fevers that I felt myself utterly incapable of supporting my rifle for a steady aim. But my surprise was great when I cautiously laid it against the tree, and then directed its muzzle to the spot where I had seen him stand. Looking further away—to where the grass was thin and scant—I saw the animal bound along at a great rate, and that it was a lion: the noble monarch of the forest was in full flight! From that moment I ceased to regard him as the "mightiest among the brutes;" or his roar as anything more fearful in broad daylight than a sucking dove's.

The next day was also a halt, and unable to contain my longing for the chase, where there used to be such a concourse of game of all kinds, soon after morning coffee, and after despatching a couple of men with presents to my friend Ma-manyara, of ammonia-bottle memory, I sauntered out once more for the park. Not five hundred yards from the camp, myself and men were suddenly halted by hearing in our immediate vicinity, probably within fifty yards or so, a chorus of roars, issuing from a triplet of lions. Instinctively my fingers raised the two hammers, as I expected a general onset on me; for though one lion might fly, it was hardly credible that three should. While looking keenly about I detected, within easy rifle-shot, a fine hartebeest, trembling and cowering behind a tree, as if it expected the fangs of the lion in its neck. Though it had its back turned to me, I thought a bullet might plough its way to a vital part, and without a moment's hesitation I aimed and fired. The animal gave a tremendous jump, as if it intended to take a flying leap through the tree; but recovering itself it dashed through the underbrush in a different direction from that in which I supposed the lions to be, and I never saw it again, though I knew I had struck it from the bloody trail it left; neither did I see nor hear anything more of the lions. I searched far and wide over the park-land for prey of some kind, but was compelled to return unsuccessful to camp.

Disgusted with my failure, we started a little after noon for Manyara, at which place we were hospitably greeted by my friend, who had sent men to tell me that his white brother must not halt in the woods but must come to his village. We received a present of honey and food from the chief, which was most welcome to us in our condition. Here was an instance of that friendly disposition among Central African chiefs when they have not been spoiled by the Arabs, which Dr. Livingstone found among the Babisa and Ba-ulungu, and in Manyuema. I received the same friendly recognition from all the chiefs, from Imrera, in Ukawendi, to Unyanyembe, as I did from Mamanyara.

On the 14th we arrived at Ugunda, and soon after we had established ourselves comfortably in a hut which the chief lent us for our use, in came Ferajji and Chowpereh, bringing with them Sarmean and Uledi Manwa Sera, who, it will be recollected, were the two soldiers sent to Zanzibar with letters and who should Sarmean have in charge but the deserter Hamdallah, who decamped at Manyara, as we were going to Ujiji. This fellow, it seems, had halted at Kigandu, and had informed the chief and the doctor of the village that he had been sent by the white man to take back the cloth left there for the cure of Mabruk Saleem; and the simple chief had commanded it to be given up to him upon his mere word, in consequence of which the sick man had died.

Upon Sarmean's arrival in Unyanyembe from Zanzibar, about fifty days after the Expedition had departed for Ujiji the news he received was that the white man (Shaw) was dead; and that a man called Hamdallah, who had engaged himself as one of my guides, but who had shortly after returned, was at Unyanyembe. He had left him unmolested until the appearance of Ferajji and his companion, when they at once, in a body, made a descent on his hut and secured him. With the zeal which always distinguished him in my service, Sarmean had procured a forked pole, between the prongs of which the neck of the absconder was placed; and a cross stick, firmly lashed, effectually prevented him from relieving himself of the incumbrance attached to him so deftly.

There were no less than seven packets of letters and newspapers from Zanzibar, which had been collecting during my absence from Unyanyembe. These had been intrusted at various times to the chiefs of caravans, who had faithfully delivered them at my tembe, according to their promise to the Consul. There was one packet for me, which contained two or three letters for Dr. Livingstone, to whom, of course, they were at once transferred, with my congratulations. In the same packet there was also a letter to me from the British Consul at Zanzibar requesting me to take charge of Livingstone's goods and do the best I could to forward them on to him, dated 25th September, 1871, five days after I left Unyanyembe on my apparently hopeless task.

"Well, Doctor," said I to Livingstone, "the English Consul requests me to do all I can to push forward your goods to you. I am sorry that I did not get the authority sooner, for I should have attempted it; but in the absence of these instructions I have done the best I could by pushing you towards the goods. The mountain has not been able to advance towards Mohammed, but Mohammed has been compelled to advance towards the mountain."

But Dr. Livingstone was too deeply engrossed in his own letters from home, which were just a year old.

I received good and bad news from New York, but the good news was subsequent, and wiped out all feelings that might have been evoked had I received the bad only. But the newspapers, nearly a hundred of them, New York, Boston, and London journals, were full of most wonderful news. The Paris Commune was in arms against the National Assembly; the Tuileries, the Louvre, and the ancient city Lutetia Parisiorum had been set in flames by the blackguards of Saint-Antoine! French troops massacring and murdering men, women, and children; rampant diabolism, and incarnate revenge were at work in the most beautiful city in the world! Fair women converted into demons, and dragged by ruffianly soldiery through the streets to universal execration and pitiless death; children of tender age pinned to the earth and bayoneted; men innocent or not, shot, cut, stabbed, slashed, destroyed—a whole city given up to the summa injuria of an infuriate, reckless, and brutal army! Oh France! Oh Frenchmen! Such things are unknown even in the heart of barbarous Central Africa. We spurned the newspapers with our feet; and for relief to sickened hearts gazed on the comic side of our world, as illustrated in the innocent pages of 'Punch.' Poor 'Punch!' good-hearted, kindly-natured 'Punch!' a traveller's benison on thee! Thy jokes were as physic; thy innocent satire was provocative of hysteric mirth.

Our doors were crowded with curious natives, who looked with indescribable wonder at the enormous sheets. I heard them repeat the words, "Khabari Kisungu"—white man's news—often, and heard them discussing the nature of such a quantity of news, and expressing their belief that the "Wasungu" were "mbyah sana," and very "mkali;" by which they meant to say that the white men were very wicked, and very smart and clever though the term wicked is often employed to express high admiration.

On the fourth day from Ugunda, or the 18th of February, and the fifty-third day from Ujiji, we made our appearance with flags flying and guns firing in the valley of Kwihara, and when the Doctor and myself passed through the portals of my old quarters I formally welcomed him to Unyanyembe and to my house.

Since the day I had left the Arabs, sick and, weary almost with my life, but, nevertheless, imbued with the high hope that my mission would succeed, 131 days had elapsed—with what vicissitudes of fortune the reader well knows—during which time I had journeyed over 1,200 miles.

The myth after which I travelled through the wilderness proved to be a fact; and never was the fact more apparent than when the Living Man walked with me arm in arm to my old room, and I said to him, "Doctor, we are at last HOME!"

CHAPTER XV. — HOMEWARD BOUND.—LIVINGSTONE'S LAST WORDS—THE FINAL FAREWELL

Unyanyembe was now to me a terrestrial Paradise. Livingstone was no less happy; he was in comfortable quarters, which were a palace compared to his hut in Ujiji. Our store-rooms were full of the good things of this life, besides cloth, beads, wire, and the thousand and one impedimenta and paraphernalia of travel with which I had loaded over one hundred and fifty men at Bagamoyo. I had seventy-four loads of miscellaneous things, the most valuable of which were now to be turned over to Livingstone, for his march back to the sources of the Nile.

It was a great day with, us when, with hammer and chisel, I broke open the Doctor's boxes, that we might feast our famished stomachs on the luxuries which were to redeem us from the effect of the cacotrophic dourra and maize food we had been subjected to in the wilderness. I conscientiously believed that a diet on potted ham, crackers, and jellies would make me as invincible as Talus, and that I only required a stout flail to be able to drive the mighty Wagogo into the regions of annihilation, should they dare even to wink in a manner I disapproved.

The first box opened contained three tins of biscuits, six tins of potted hams—tiny things, not much larger than thimbles, which, when opened, proved to be nothing more than a table-spoonful of minced meat plentifully seasoned with pepper: the Doctor's stores fell five hundred degrees below zero in my estimation. Next were brought out five pots of jam, one of which was opened—this was also a delusion. The stone jars weighed a pound, and in each was found a little over a tea-spoonful of jam. Verily, we began to think our hopes and expectations had been raised to too high a pitch. Three bottles of curry were next produced—but who cares for curry? Another box was opened, and out tumbled a fat dumpy Dutch cheese, hard as a brick, but sound and good; though it is bad for the liver in Unyamwezi. Then another cheese was seen, but this was all eaten up—it was hollow and a fraud. The third box contained nothing but two sugar loaves; the fourth, candles; the fifth, bottles of salt, Harvey, Worcester, and Reading sauces, essence of anchovies, pepper, and mustard. Bless me! what food were these for the revivifying of a moribund such as I was! The sixth box contained four shirts, two pairs of stout shoes, some stockings and shoe-strings, which delighted the Doctor so much when he tried them on that he exclaimed, "Richard is himself again!" "That man," said I, "whoever he is, is a friend, indeed." "Yes, that is my friend Waller."

The five other boxes contained potted meat and soups; but the twelfth, containing one dozen bottles of medicinal brandy, was gone; and a strict cross-examination of Asmani, the head man of Livingstone's caravan, elicited the fact, that not only was one case of brandy missing, but also two bales of cloth and four bags of the most valuable beads in Africa—sami-sami—which are as gold with the natives.

I was grievously disappointed after the stores had been examined; everything proved to be deceptions in my jaundiced eyes. Out of the tins of biscuits when opened, there was only one sound box; the whole of which would not make one full meal. The soups—who cared for meat soups in Africa? Are there no bullocks, and sheep, and goats in the land, from which far better soup can be made than any that was ever potted? Peas, or any other kind of vegetable soup, would have been a luxury; but chicken and game soups!—what nonsense!

I then overhauled my own stores. I found some fine old brandy and one bottle of champagne still left; though it was evident, in looking at the cloth bales, that dishonesty had been at work; and some person happened to suggest Asmani—the head man sent by Dr. Kirk in charge of Livingstone's goods—as the guilty party. Upon his treasures being examined, I found eight or ten coloured cloths, with the mark of my own agent at Zanzibar on them. As he was unable to give a clear account of how they came in his box, they were at once confiscated, and distributed among the most deserving of the Doctor's people. Some of the watchmen also accused him of having entered into my store-room, and of having abstracted two or three gorah of domestics from my bales, and of having, some days afterwards, snatched the keys from the hands of one of my men, and broken them, lest other people might enter, and find evidences of his guilt. As Asmani was proved to be another of the "moral idiots," Livingstone discharged him on the spot. Had we not arrived so soon at Unyanyembe, it is probable that the entire stock sent from Zanzibar had in time disappeared.

Unyanyembe being rich in fruits, grain, and cattle, we determined to have our Christmas dinner over again in style, and, being fortunately in pretty good health, I was enabled to superintend its preparation. Never was such prodigality seen in a tembe of Unyamwezi as was seen in ours, nor were ever such delicacies provided.

There were but few Arabs in Unyanyembe when we arrived, as they were investing the stronghold of Mirambo. About a week after our return, "the little mannikin," Sheikh Sayd bin Salim—El Wali—who was the commander-in-chief of their forces, came to Kwihara from the front. But the little Sheikh was in no great hurry to greet the man he had wronged so much. As soon as we heard of his arrival we took the opportunity to send men immediately after the goods which were forwarded to the Wali's care soon after Livingstone's departure for Mikindany Bay. The first time we sent men for them the governor declared himself too sick to attend to such matters, but the second day they were surrendered, with a request that the Doctor would not be very angry at their condition, as the white ants had destroyed everything.

The stores this man had detained at Unyanyembe were in a most sorry state. The expenses were prepaid for their carriage to Ujiji, but the goods had been purposely detained at this place by Sayd bin Salim since 1867 that he might satisfy his appetite for liquor, and probably fall heir to two valuable guns that were known to be with them. The white ants had not only eaten up bodily the box in which the guns were packed, but they had also eaten the gunstocks. The barrels were corroded, and the locks were quite destroyed. The brandy bottles, most singular to relate, had also fallen a prey to the voracious and irresistible destroyers the white ants—and, by some unaccountable means, they had imbibed the potent Hennessy, and replaced the corks with corn-cobs. The medicines had also vanished, and the zinc pots in which they had been snugly packed up were destroyed by corrosion. Two bottles of brandy and one small zinc case of medicines only were saved out of the otherwise utter wreck.

I also begged the Doctor to send to Sheikh Sayd, and ask him if he had received the two letters despatched by him upon his first arrival at Ujiji for Dr. Kirk and Lord Clarendon; and if he had forwarded them to the coast, as he was desired to do. The reply to the messengers was in the affirmative; and, subsequently, I obtained the same answer in the presence of the Doctor,

On the 222nd of February, the pouring rain, which had dogged us the entire distance from Ujiji, ceased, and we had now beautiful weather; and while I prepared for the homeward march, the Doctor was busy writing his letters, and entering his notes into his journal, which I was to take to his family. When not thus employed, we paid visits to the Arabs at Tabora, by whom we were both received with that bounteous hospitality for which they are celebrated.

Among the goods turned over by me to Dr. Livingstone, while assorting such cloths as I wished to retain for my homeward trip, were—

" Kaniki (blue stuff)... 16 = 64

"          Dabwani cloth.... 41 =   64

             Barsati cloths....   28 = 112

             Printed handkerchiefs.. 70 = 280

" Ismahili " .... 20 = 80

" Sohari "..... 20 = 80

The above made a total of about forty loads. Many things in the list would have brought fancy prices in Unyanyembe, especially the carbines and ammunition, the saw, carpenter's tools the beads, and wire. Out of the thirty-three loads which were stored for him in my tembe—the stock sent to Livingstone, Nov. 1,1870—but few of them would be available for his return trip to Rua and Manyuema. The 696 doti of cloth which were left to him formed the only marketable articles of value he possessed; and in Manyuema, where the natives manufactured their own cloth, such an article would be considered a drug; while my beads and wire, with economy, would suffice to keep him and his men over two years in those regions. His own cloth, and what I gave him, made in the aggregate 1,393 doti, which, at 2 doti per day for food, were sufficient to keep him and sixty men 696 days. He had thus four years' supplies. The only articles he lacked to make a new and completely fitted-up expedition were the following, a list of which he and I drew up;—

A few tins of American wheat-flour. " " soda crackers.
" " preserved fruits
A few tins of salmon, 10 lbs. Hyson tea. Some sewing thread and needles.
1 dozen official envelopes. 'Nautical Almanac' for 1872 and 1873. 1
blank journal. 1 chronometer, stopped. 1 chain for refractory people.

With the articles just named he would have a total of seventy loads, but without carriers they were an incumbrance to him; for, with only the nine men which he now had, he could go nowhere with such a splendid assortment of goods. I was therefore commissioned to enlist,—as soon as I reached Zanzibar,—fifty freemen, arm them with a gun and hatchet each man, besides accoutrements, and to purchase two thousand bullets, one thousand flints, and ten kegs of gunpowder. The men were to act as carriers, to follow wherever Livingstone might desire to go. For, without men, he was simply tantalized with the aspirations roused in him by the knowledge that he had abundance of means, which were irrealizable without carriers. All the wealth of London and New York piled before him were totally unavailable to him without the means of locomotion. No Mnyamwezi engages himself as carrier during war-time. You who have read the diary of my 'Life in Unyanyembe' know what stubborn Conservatives the Wanyamwezi are. A duty lay yet before me which I owed to my illustrious companion, and that was to hurry to the coast as if on a matter of life and death—act for him in the matter of enlisting men as if he were there himself—to work for him with the same zeal as I would for myself—not to halt or rest until his desires should be gratified, And this I vowed to do; but it was a death-blow to my project of going down the Nile, and getting news of Sir S. Baker.

The Doctor's task of writing his letters was ended. He delivered into my hand twenty letters for Great Britain, six for Bombay, two for New York, and one for Zanzibar. The two letters for New York were for James Gordon Bennett, junior, as he alone, not his father, was responsible for the Expedition sent under my command. I beg the reader's pardon for republishing one of these letters here, as its spirit and style indicate the man, the mere knowledge of whose life or death was worth a costly Expedition.

My Dear Sir,—It is in general somewhat difficult to write to one we have never seen—it feels so much like addressing an abstract idea—but the presence of your representative, Mr. H. M. Stanley, in this distant region takes away the strangeness I should otherwise have felt, and in writing to thank you for the extreme kindness that prompted you to send him, I feel quite at home.

If I explain the forlorn condition in which he found me you will easily perceive that I have good reason to use very strong expressions of gratitude. I came to Ujiji off a tramp of between four hundred and five hundred miles, beneath a blazing vertical sun, having been baffled, worried, defeated and forced to return, when almost in sight of the end of the geographical part of my mission, by a number of half-caste Moslem slaves sent to me from Zanzibar, instead of men. The sore heart made still sorer by the woeful sights I had seen of man's inhumanity to man racked and told on the bodily frame, and depressed it beyond measure. I thought that I was dying on my feet. It is not too much to say that almost every step of the weary sultry way was in pain, and I reached Ujiji a mere ruckle of bones.

There I found that some five hundred pounds' sterling worth of goods which I had ordered from Zanzibar had unaccountably been entrusted to a drunken half-caste Moslem tailor, who, after squandering them for sixteen months on the way to Ujiji; finished up by selling off all that remained for slaves and ivory for himself. He had "divined" on the Koran and found that I was dead. He had also written to the Governor of Unyanyembe that he had sent slaves after me to Manyuema, who returned and reported my decease, and begged permission to sell off the few goods that his drunken appetite had spared.

He, however, knew perfectly well, from men who had seen me, that I was alive, and waiting for the goods and men; but as for morality, he is evidently an idiot, and there being no law here except that of the dagger or musket, I had to sit down in great weakness, destitute of everything save a few barter cloths and beads, which I had taken the precaution to leave here in case of extreme need.

I could not despair, because I laughed so much at a friend who, on reaching the mouth of the Zambezi, said that he was tempted to despair on breaking the photograph of his wife. We could have no success after that. Afterward the idea of despair had to me such a strong smack of the ludicrous that it was out of the question.

Well, when I had got to about the lowest verge, vague rumors of an English visitor reached me. I thought of myself as the man who went down from Jerusalem to Jericho; but neither priest, Levite, nor Samaritan could possibly pass my way. Yet the good Samaritan was close at hand, and one of my people rushed up at the top of his speed, and, in great excitement, gasped out, "An Englishman coming! I see him!" and off he darted to meet him.

An American flag, the first ever seen in these parts, at the head of a caravan, told me the nationality of the stranger.

I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are usually reputed to be; but your kindness made my frame thrill. It was, indeed, overwhelming, and I said in my soul, "Let the richest blessings descend from the Highest on you and yours!"

The news Mr. Stanley had to tell was thrilling. The mighty political changes on the Continent; the success of the Atlantic cables; the election of General Grant, and many other topics' riveted my attention for days together, and had an immediate and beneficial effect on my health. I had been without news from home for years save what I could glean from a few 'Saturday Reviews' and 'Punch' of 1868. The appetite revived, and in a week I began to feel strong again.

Mr. Stanley brought a most kind and encouraging despatch from Lord Clarendon (whose loss I sincerely deplore), the first I have received from the Foreign Office since 1866, and information that the British Government had kindly sent a thousand pounds sterling to my aid. Up to his arrival I was not aware of any pecuniary aid. I came unsalaried, but this want is now happily repaired, and I am anxious that you and all my friends should know that, though uncheered by letter, I have stuck to the task which my friend Sir Roderick Murchison set me with "John Bullish" tenacity, believing that all would come right at last.

The watershed of South Central Africa is over seven hundred wiles in length. The fountains thereon are almost innumerable—that is, it would take a man's lifetime to count them. From the watershed they converge into four large rivers, and these again into two mighty streams in the great Nile valley, which begins in ten degrees to twelve degrees south latitude. It was long ere light dawned on the ancient problem and gave me a clear idea of the drainage. I had to feel my way, and every step of the way, and was, generally, groping in the dark—for who cared where the rivers ran? "We drank our fill and let the rest run by."

The Portuguese who visited Cazembe asked for slaves and ivory, and heard of nothing else. I asked about the waters, questioned and cross-questioned, until I was almost afraid of being set down as afflicted with hydrocephalus.

My last work, in which I have been greatly hindered from want of suitable attendants, was following the central line of drainage down through the country of the cannibals, called Manyuema, or, shortly Manyema. This line of drainage has four large lakes in it. The fourth I was near when obliged to turn. It is from one to three miles broad, and never can be reached at any point, or at any time of the year. Two western drains, the Lufira, or Bartle Frere's River, flow into it at Lake Kamolondo. Then the great River Lomame flows through Lake Lincoln into it too, and seems to form the western arm of the Nile, on which Petherick traded.

Now, I knew about six hundred miles of the watershed, and unfortunately the seventh hundred is the most interesting of the whole; for in it, if I am not mistaken, four fountains arise from an earthen mound, and the last of the four becomes, at no great distance off, a large river.

Two of these run north to Egypt, Lufira and Lomame, and two run south into inner Ethiopia, as the Leambaye, or Upper Zambezi, and the Kaful.

Are not these the sources of the Nile mentioned by the Secretary of Minerva, in the city of Sais, to Herodotus?

I have heard of them so often, and at great distances off, that I cannot doubt their existence, and in spite of the sore longing for home that seizes me every time I think of my family, I wish to finish up by their rediscovery.

Five hundred pounds sterling worth of goods have again unaccountably been entrusted to slaves, and have been over a year on the way, instead of four months. I must go where they lie at your expense, ere I can put the natural completion to my work.

And if my disclosures regarding the terrible Ujijian slavery should lead to the suppression of the East Coast slave trade, I shall regard that as a greater matter by far than the discovery of all the Nile sources together. Now that you have done with domestic slavery for ever, lend us your powerful aid toward this great object. This fine country is blighted, as with a curse from above, in order that the slavery privileges of the petty Sultan of Zanzibar may not be infringed, and the rights of the Crown of Portugal, which are mythical, should be kept in abeyance till some future time when Africa will become another India to Portuguese slave-traders.

I conclude by again thanking you most cordially for your great generosity, and am,

To the above letter I have nothing to add—it speaks for itself; but I then thought it was the best evidence of my success. For my own part, I cared not one jot or tittle about his discoveries, except so far as it concerned the newspaper which commissioned me for the "search." It is true I felt curious as to the result of his travels; but, since he confessed that he had not completed what he had begun, I felt considerable delicacy to ask for more than he could afford to give. His discoveries were the fruits of of his own labours—to him they belonged—by their publication he hoped to obtain his reward, which he desired to settle on his children. Yet Livingstone had a higher and nobler ambition than the mere pecuniary sum he would receive: he followed the dictates of duty. Never was such a willing slave to that abstract virtue. His inclinations impelled him home, the fascinations of which it required the sternest resolves to resist. With every foot of new ground he travelled over he forged a chain of sympathy which should hereafter bind the Christian nations in bonds of love and charity to the Heathen of the African tropics. If he were able to complete this chain of love—by actual discovery and description of them to embody such peoples and nations as still live in darkness, so as to attract the good and charitable of his own land to bestir themselves for their redemption and salvation—this, Livingstone would consider an ample reward.

"A delirious and fatuous enterprise, a Quixotic scheme!" some will say. Not it, my friends; for as sure as the sun shines on both Christian and Infidel, civilised and Pagan, the day of enlightenment will come; and, though Livingstone, the Apostle of Africa, may not behold it himself, nor we younger men, not yet our children, the Hereafter will see it, and posterity will recognise the daring pioneer of its civilization.

March 12th.—The Arabs have sent me as many as forty-five letters to carry to the coast. I am turned courier in my latter days; but the reason is that no regularly organized caravans are permitted to leave Unyanyembe now, because of the war with Mirambo. What if I had stayed all this time at Unyanyembe waiting for the war to end! It is my opinion that, the Arabs will not be able to conquer Mirambo under nine months yet.

To-night the natives have gathered themselves together to give me a farewell dance in front of my house. I find them to be the pagazis of Singiri, chief of Mtesa's caravan. My men joined in, and, captivated by the music despite myself, I also struck in, and performed the "light fantastic," to the intense admiration of my braves, who were delighted to see their master unbend a little from his usual stiffness.

It is a wild dance altogether. The music is lively, and evoked from the sonorous sound of four drums, which are arranged before the bodies of four men, who stand in the centre of the weird circle. Bombay, as ever comical, never so much at home as when in the dance of the Mrima, has my water-bucket on his head; Chowpereh—the sturdy, the nimble, sure-footed Chowpereh—has an axe in his hand, and wears a goatskin on his head; Baraka has my bearskin, and handles a spear; Mabruki, the "Bull-headed," has entered into the spirit of the thing, and steps up and down like a solemn elephant; Ulimengo has a gun, and is a fierce Drawcansir, and you would imagine he was about to do battle to a hundred thousand, so ferocious is he in appearance; Khamisi and Kamna are before the drummers, back to back, kicking up ambitiously at the stars; Asmani,—the embodiment of giant strength,—a towering Titan,—has also a gun, with which he is dealing blows in the air, as if he were Thor, slaying myriads with his hammer. The scruples and passions of us all are in abeyance; we are contending demons under the heavenly light of the stars, enacting only the part of a weird drama, quickened into action and movement by the appalling energy and thunder of the drums.

The warlike music is ended, and another is started. The choragus has fallen on his knees, and dips his head two or three times in an excavation in the ground, and a choir, also on their knees, repeat in dolorous tones the last words of a slow and solemn refrain. The words are literally translated:—