CHAPTER VII.
MR. STANLEY IN AFRICA.

Mr. Stanley found it much more difficult to get into Africa than to that singular land. It was understood, according to the best intelligence to be had that Dr. Livingstone would probably be found, if found at all, not far from Ujiji. From Bagamoyo, on the mainland of Africa, opposite the island of Zanzibar, there is a caravan route to Unyanyembe. The journey generally takes some four months. At the time Mr. Stanley undertook to proceed inland, he found the country disturbed by wars, and though starting now and again, he was delayed many weary months on this account. “Forward and back” was the necessary call of the situation. At length the country became so far quiet between Bagamoyo and Unyanyembe that the expedition, which terminated in success, set forth very early in April, 1871, and, after an unusually rapid journey, the caravan reached Unyanyembe on the 23d of June. Hence letters were dispatched home, but from this time for more than a year, the world remained in ignorance of the fate of the expedition.

Upon the morning of the 2d of July, 1872, however, in the midst of the great Peace Jubilee at the city of Boston, appeared a cable telegram from London to the New York “Herald,” announcing the discovery of Livingstone and the consequent complete success of the great American journal’s enterprise. This telegram is worthy of preservation, though superseded by the fuller information in Mr. Stanley’s letters, as an illustration of newspaper enterprise:

London, July 1, 1872.

THE GLORIOUS NEWS.

It is with the deepest emotions of pride and pleasure that I announce the arrival this day of letters from Mr. Stanley, Chief of the Herald Exploring Expedition to Central Africa. I have forwarded the letters by mail. Knowing, however, the importance of the subject and the impatience with which

RELIABLE NEWS

is awaited, I hasten to telegraph a summary of the Herald explorer’s letters, which are full of the most romantic interest, while affirming, emphatically,

THE SAFETY OF DR. LIVINGSTONE,

and confirming the meagre reports already sent on here by telegraph from Bombay and duly forwarded to the Herald. To bring up the thread of

THE THRILLING NARRATIVE

where the last communication from him ended he proceeds with his account of the journey. It will be recalled that when last heard from he had arrived in the country of Unyanyembe, after a perilous march of eighty-two days from Bagamoyo, on the coast opposite the island of Zanzibar. The road up to this point had been in

THE REGULAR CARAVAN TRACK,

and the journey was performed in a much shorter time than the same distance had been traversed by previous explorers. The expedition

ARRIVED AT UNYANYEMBE

on the 23d of June, 1871, where he sent forward his communication. The caravan had need of rest, and it was necessary to refit while an opportunity was at hand through the medium of the Arab caravans then on their way to various points on the coast with ivory and slaves. The expedition had suffered terribly, but the heart of the Herald explorer never gave out.

THE TERRIBLE CLIMATE

of the countries through which it had passed told on it even more than the difficulties of the tribes at war among themselves and upon everything that came in their way and which they were in sufficient force to attack. The caravans met at the various halting places threw every discouragement in the way, which tended to destroy the morale of the expedition.

SEEDY BOMBAY,

however, the captain of the expedition, proved invaluable in controlling the disaffected, whether with tact or a wholesome display of force when necessary.

THE INCESSANT RAINS,

alternated with a fierce African sun, made the atmosphere heavy, charged with moisture, and producing a rank, rotten vegetation. In the mountainous regions which we traversed the climate was of course, much better, and the result was that the expedition much improved in health. The miasmatic vapors and other hardships of the journey had played sad havoc with its number and force.

THE TOTAL LOSS

up to this point by sickness had been one white man, two of the armed escort, and eight of the pagazis or native porters. The two horses had also succumbed, and twenty-seven of the asses had either fallen by the wayside and had to be abandoned or else the rascally native donkey leaders had allowed them to stray from the kraal at night. As a consequence, a considerable quantity of the stores were either lost or wasted, but the rolls of Merikani (American cloth)—for shukkah and doti—the beads and wire—had been as far as possible preserved, they being the only money in Central Africa. In July

ALL WAS PREPARED TO MOVE

through Unyanyembe; but before long it was found that almost insuperable difficulties were interposed. The country there is composed of thick jungle, with large clearings for the cultivation of holcus. The utmost alarm and excitement were spread through the native villages at

THE EXPECTATION OF A WAR.

The inhabitants were shy of intercourse, and it was with great difficulty that supplies could be obtained. A little further on the villages on either side of the track were found to be filled with Arab

CARAVANS AFRAID TO ADVANCE

and gathering together for security. The cause of all this alarm was soon discovered. The ku honga or blackmail levied by the head men of the tribes as a sort of toll for passage through their territories, had been inordinately raised in the Ujowa country by

MIRAMBO,

King of the Wagowa. Obstinate fights had already occurred in which small bands of his soldiers had been beaten, several being killed. He had, therefore, declared to the traders that no caravan should pass to Ujiji except over his body. The Arabs hereupon held a council, and, finding themselves strong in fighting men,

DECLARED WAR ON MIRAMBO.

The Herald commander took part in this. The Arabs appeared to anticipate a speedy victory, and preparations for a jungle fight were accordingly made. The ammunition was looked to, muskets inspected and matchlocks cleaned. The superior armament of the Herald expedition made their assistance a matter of great importance to the Arabs.

THE HERALD GOES TO WAR.

An address was delivered to the members of the expedition through Selim, the interpreter, and the forces, with the American flag flying, were marshalled by Captain Seedy Bombay.

THE FIRST FIGHT.

At daybreak on the day following, according to previous arrangement, the armed men were divided into three parties. The vanguard for attack, the rear guard as immediate reserve, and the remainder, consisting of the less active, were stationed with the impedimenta and slaves in the kraals. The advance was ordered and responded to with alacrity, and the first village where the soldiers of Mirambo were lying was at once attacked and speedily captured. The inhabitants were

EITHER KILLED OR DRIVEN AWAY.

Another village followed the fate of the first, and both were left in ashes before nightfall. The troops were wearied with the hot day’s work, but all were elate at their success thus far. The commander of the Herald expedition, on his return to camp, passed a sleepless night, and morning found him

IN A HIGH FEVER.

He was therefore obliged to remain in camp, and his forces refused to fight except under his lead. This weakened the Arab force considerably, and, although the dreaded Mirambo and his followers, thirsting for vengeance, were known to be in the vicinity, the day was passed in fatal inactivity.

THE AMBUSH OF MIRAMBO.

The third day seemed as if about to pass like the preceding, the Herald commander still suffering from the fever, when shots were heard in the direction of the Arab kraals, and it soon became evident that the wily Mirambo had ambushed the Arabs. This, in effect, was the case. A superior body of natives, armed with muskets, assegais (spears) and poisoned arrows, had suddenly burst upon the Arabs.

A TERRIFIC SLAUGHTER ENSUED,

which ended in the rout with the Arabs, who took refuge in the jungle. The fourth day brought with it the fruit of the disaster. The Arabs could not be prevailed upon to renew the fight, and desertion and flight became the order of the day. Even the

MEN OF THE HERALD EXPEDITION DESERTED,

leaving but six with the commander. Mirambo now threatened the town of Unyanyembe. By stupendous exertion the commander collected one hundred and fifty of the fugitives; these being convinced by their numbers, when collected together, that resistance was still possible, resolved to obey the commander.

FORTIFYING FOR A SIEGE.

With five days provisions on hand the houses were loopholed and barricades erected, videttes stationed and the defenders told off as well as their numbers, armament and morale could be individually depended on.

THE AMERICAN FLAG WAS HOISTED

and the trembling inhabitants awaited the expected attack. This, however, was destined not to come off, for, to the general delight, a Wanyamwezi scout brought in the joyful intelligence that Mirambo, with all his forces, had retired, not caring to risk an engagement, except in the jungle. Mustering what force was possible, the intrepid Herald commander then

STARTED FOR UJIJI,

on the Tanganyika Lake, or Sea of Ujiji. The Arabs endeavored in vain to dissuade him from this. Death, they said, was certain to the muzanyu (white man) and his followers. This frightened the already demoralized pagazis and caused a serious loss to the expedition in the person of Shaw, the English sailor. Undaunted by the forebodings of ill and the losses by desertion, the caravan once more was on the march and pushed forward.

BY ANOTHER ROAD,

to the one where Mirambo and his Africans were awaiting the first caravan. This road lay through an untrodden desert, and caused

A GREAT DETOUR

in order to come again upon the caravan road in the rear of the Wajowa. No great mishaps were met with, and when the villages and cultivated fields of sorghum, and holcus were reached everything progressed favorably.

AFTER A FOUR HUNDRED MILE JOURNEY

the outlying portions of the province of Ujiji were reached. Word had reached the expedition of the presence of Dr. Livingstone in the province within a recent period, and accordingly preparations were made for

A TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO UJIJI.

The pagazis who chanced to be unladen proceeded, beating drums and blowing upon Kudu horns. The armed escort fired salutes every moment, keeping up a regular feu de joie, and the American flag floated proudly over all. In the distance lay the silver bosom of Tanganyika Lake, at the foot of the stately mountains in the background, and fringed with tall trees and lovely verdure. It was a wonderful relief to the pilgrims of progress. Before them lay the settlement or town of Ujiji, with its huts and houses looking dreamily like a land of rest.

THE ASTONISHED NATIVES

turned out at the unwonted display, and flocked in crowds to meet them with deafening shouts and beating of drums. Among the advancing throng was noticed a muscular group of turbaned Arabs. As they advanced still nearer

ONE OF THE GROUP

who walked in the centre was noticed to be differently attired from the others. The group halted, and the word was passed back that a muzangu was among them. Spurring forward the Herald commander indeed saw that, strongly contrasting with the dusky, sunburnt Arab faces, was

A HALE-LOOKING, GRAY-BEARDED WHITE MAN,

wearing a navy cap, with a faded gold band and a red woolen jacket. It was a trying moment, wherein every emotion of hope and fear flashed through the brain. The fatigues faded in the intensity of the situation. The questions, was this he who had so long been sought, or could it be a delusion of the mind, or was the white man some unknown waif of humanity? crowded the mind, bringing their changing feelings with them. A few feet in front of the group the Herald commander halted, dismounted and advanced on foot.

A HISTORIC MEETING.

Preserving a calmness of exterior before the Arabs which was hard to simulate as he reached the group, Mr. Stanley said:—

“Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”

A smile lit up the features of the hale white man as he answered:

“YES, THAT IS MY NAME.”

The meeting was most cordial, and the wearied caravan, joyous at the triumph of the expedition were escorted by the multitude to the town. After a rest and a meal, in which milk, honey and fish from Tanganyika were new features,

LIVINGSTONE TOLD HIS STORY,

which is briefly as follows:—

In March, 1866, he informed the Herald explorer that he started with twelve Sepoys, nine Johanna men and seven liberated slaves. He travelled

UP THE ROVUMA RIVER.

Before they had been gone very long the men became frightened at the nature of the journey, and the reports of hostile tribes up the country they were to pass through. At length they deserted him, and, as a cover to their cowardice in doing so, circulated

THE REPORT OF HIS DEATH.

Livingstone proceeded on his journey in spite of the isolation, and after some difficult marching reached the Chambezi River, which he crossed. He found that this was not the Portuguese Zambezi River, as had been conjectured, but, on the contrary, wholly separate. He traced its course, and found it called further on

THE LUALABA.

He continued his explorations along its banks for 700 miles, and has become convinced in consequence that the Chambezi is

DOUBTLESS THE SOURCE OF THE NILE,

and that this will make a total length for the mystic river of Africa of 2,600 miles. His explorations also establish that the Nile is not supplied by Lake Tanganyika. He reached within 180 miles of the source and explored the surrounding ground, when,

FINDING HIMSELF WITHOUT SUPPLIES,

he was obliged to return to Ujiji and was in a state of destitution there when met by the commander of the “Herald” expedition. On the 16th of October, 1871,

THE TWO EXPLORERS LEFT UJIJI.

and arrived at Unyanyembe toward the end of November, where they passed twenty-eight days together exploring the district. They then returned and

SPENT CHRISTMAS TOGETHER

at Ujiji. The Herald explorer arrived at the point of sending this important intelligence on the 14th of March, 1872, leaving Livingstone at Unyanyembe.

LIVINGSTONE’S FURTHER PLANS.

He will explore the north shore of Tanganyika Lake and the remaining 180 miles of the Lualaba River.

This herculean task he expects will occupy the next two years.

There have been but few “sensations” more profound than the sensation created by this despatch. As has been said, it threw the great Peace Jubilee into the shade. Sporting men who had just won on the race-horse “Longfellow” or lost on “Harry Bassett,” paused for a while to think of the strange intelligence. The report of the trial of him who had been charged with the murder of the noted James Fisk, Jr. attracted but comparatively little attention. All through the section of the great city known as “Five Points” the news was discussed by the tatterdemalions of the metropolis; all up and down Fifth Avenue, thousands of the best representatives of wealth and of culture canvassed the double-leaded telegram; and Wall street gave it as much attention as it gave to stocks and government securities. The substance of the telegram was sent to the evening papers all over the country and to Europe, and before sunset of July 2d a vast majority of intelligent people of Christendom knew that Livingstone had been found, and through the means of American private enterprise. It was a triumph in which the “Herald” might have been excused, had it indulged in no little self-glorification. Its article upon the subject, however, was greatly national in spirit, and awarded the credit of the success to American journalism, rather than claimed it for itself.[2]

With the object of presenting to the curious a fac simile of the famous cable telegram announcing to an anxious world the discovery of the great discoverer and of undertaking to preserve it in book form, as vividly illustrative of the important part borne by journalistic enterprise in opening up Africa to progress and civilization, that despatch has been literally copied in the preceding chapter. But the full particulars of the journey of the “Herald” special search expedition, after leaving the main caravan track at Unyanyembe, are of thrilling interest. Instead of going directly from the last named place to Ujiji, Mr. Stanley was compelled, by reason of hostile tribes, to make an extensive detour to the southwest, and then march up in a northwesterly direction, not very far distant from the east shore of Lake Tanganyika. But first let us have quotations from the letter written just before the fourth and finally successful journey written from Kwihara in the district of Unyanyembe, on the 21st of September, 1871:

“In the storeroom where the cumbersome moneys of the New York Herald Expedition lie piled up bale upon bale, sack after sack, coil after coil, and the two boats, are this year’s supplies sent by Dr. Kirk to Dr. Livingstone—seventeen bales of cloth, twelve boxes of wine, provisions, and little luxuries such as tea and coffee. When I came up with my last caravan to Unyanyembe I found Livingstone’s had arrived but four weeks before, or about May 23 last, and had put itself under charge of a half-caste called Thani Kati-Kati, or Thani ‘in the middle,’ or ‘between.’ Before he could get carriers he died of dysentry. He was succeeded in charge by a man from Johanna, who, in something like a week, died of smallpox; then Mirambo’s war broke out, and here we all are, September 21, both expeditions halted. But not for long, let us hope, for the third time I will make a start the day after to-morrow.

“Unyamwezi is a romantic name. It is ‘Land of the Moon’ rendered into English—as romantic and sweet in Kinyamwezi as any that Stamboul or Ispahan can boast is to a Turk or a Persian. The attraction, however, to a European lies only in the name. There is nothing of the mystic, nothing of the poetical, nothing of the romantic, in the country of Unyamwezi. If I look abroad over the country I see the most inane and the most prosaic country one could ever imagine. It is the most unlikely country to a European for settlement; it is so repulsive owing to the notoriety it has gained for its fevers. A white missionary would shrink back with horror at the thought of settling in it. An agriculturist might be tempted, but then there are so many better countries where he could do so much better he would be a madman if he ignored those to settle in this. To know the general outline and physical features of Unyamwezi you must take a look around from one of the noble coigns of vantage offered by any of those hills of syenite, in the debatable ground of Mgunda Makali, in Uyanzi. From the summit of one of those natural fortresses, if you look west, you will see Unyamwezi recede into the far, blue, mysterious distance in a succession of blue waves of noble forest, rising and subsiding like the blue waters of an ocean. Such a view of Unyamwezi is inspiring; and, were it possible for you to wing yourself westward on to another vantage coign, again and again the land undulates after the same fashion, and still afar off is the same azure, mystic horizon. As you approach Unyanyembe the scene is slightly changed. Hills of syenite are seen dotting the vast prospect, like islands in a sea, presenting in their external appearance, to an imaginative eye, rude imitations of castellated fortresses and embattled towers. A nearer view of these hills discloses the denuded rock, disintegrated masses standing on end, boulder resting upon boulder, or an immense towering rock, tinted with the sombre color age paints in these lands. Around these rocky hills stretch the cultivated fields of the Wanyamwezi—fields of tall maize, of holcus sorghum, of millet, of vetches, &c.—among which you may discern the patches devoted to the cultivation of sweet potatoes and manioc, and pasture lands where browse the hump-shouldered cattle of Africa, flocks of goats and sheep. This is the scene which attracts the eye, and is accepted as promising relief after the wearisome marching through the thorny jungle plains of Ugogo, the primeval forests of Uyanzi, the dim plains of Tura and Rubuga, and when we have emerged from the twilight shades of Kigwa. No caravan or expedition views it unwelcomed by song and tumultuous chorus, for rest is at hand. It is only after a long halt that one begins to weary of Unyanyembe, the principal district of Unyamwezi. It is only when one has been stricken down almost to the grave by the fatal chilly winds which blow from the heights of the mountains of Usagara, that one begins to criticize the beauty which at first captivated. It is found, then, that though the land is fair to look upon; that though we rejoiced at the sight of its grand plains, at its fertile and glowing fields, at sight of the roving herds, which promised us abundance of milk and cream—that it is one of the most deadly countries in Africa; that its fevers, remittent and intermittent, are unequalled in their severity.

“Unyamwezi, or the Land of the Moon—from U (country) nya (of the) mwezi (moon)—extends over three degrees of latitude in length and about two and a half degrees of longitude in breadth. Its principal districts are Unyanyembe, Ugunda, Ugara, Tura, Rubuga, Kigwa, Usagazi and Uyoweh. Each district has its own chief prince, king, or mtemt, as he is called in Kinyamwezi. Unyanyembe, however is the principal district, and its king, Mkasiwa, is generally considered to be the most important person in Unyamwezi. The other kings often go to war against him, and Mkasiwa often gets the worst of it; as, for instance, in the present war between the King of Uyoweh (Mirambo) and Mkasiwa.

“All this vast country is drained by two rivers—the Northern and Southern Gombe, which empty into the Malagarazi River, and thence into Lake Tanganyika. On the east Unyamwezi is bounded by the wilderness of Mgunda Makali and Ukmibu, on the south by Urori and Ukonongo, on the west by Ukawendi and Uvniza, on the north by several small countries and the Ukereweh Lake. Were one to ascend by a balloon and scan the whole of Unyamwezi he would have a view of one great forest, broken here and there by the little clearings around the villages, especially in and around Unyanyembe.”

On account of troubles in the country, the Search Expedition was detained some three months in Kwihara. Mr. Stanley lived in quite a large, strong house for that country, consisting of a main room and bathroom, built of mud about three feet thick. He thus describes “the daily round”:

“In the early morning, generally about half-past five or six o’clock, I begin to stir the soldiers up sometimes with a long bamboo, for you know they are such hard sleepers they require a good deal of poking. Bombay has his orders given him, and Feragji, the cook, who, long ago warned by the noise I make when I rouse up, is told in unmistakable tones to bring ‘chai’ (tea), for I am like an old woman, I love tea very much, and can take a quart and a half without any inconvenience. Kalulu, a boy of seven all the way from Cazembe’s country, is my waiter and chief butler. He understands my ways and mode of life exactly. Some weeks ago he ousted Selim from the post of chief butler by sheer diligence and smartness. Selim, the Arab boy, cannot wait at table. Kalulu—young antelope—is frisky. I have but to express a wish and it is gratified. He is a perfect Mercury, though a marvellously black one. Tea over, Kalulu clears the dishes and retires under the kitchen shed, where, if I have a curiosity to know what he is doing, he may be seen with his tongue in the tea cup licking up the sugar that was left in it and looking very much as if he would like to eat the cup for the sake of the divine element it has so often contained. If I have any calls to make this is generally the hour; if there are none to make I go on the piazza and subside quietly on my bearskin to dream may be, of that far off land I call my own, or to gaze towards Tabora, the Kaze of Burton and Speke, though why they should have called it Kaze as yet I have not been able to find out; or to look towards lofty Zimbili and wonder why the Arabs, at such a crisis as the present, do not remove their goods and chattels to the summit of that natural fortress. But dreaming and wondering and thinking and marvelling are too hard for me; so I make some ethnological notes and polish up a little my geographical knowledge of Central Africa.

“I have to greet about four hundred and ninety-nine people of all sorts with the salutation ‘Yambo.’ This ‘Yambo’ is a great word. It may mean ‘How do you do?’ ‘How are you?’ ‘Thy health?’ The answer to it is ‘Yambo!’ or ‘Yambo Sana!’ (How are you; quite well?) The Kinyamwezi—the language of the Wanyamwezi—of it is ‘Moholo’ and the answer is ‘Moholo.’ The Arabs, when they call, if they do not give the Arabic ‘Spal-kher,’ give you the greeting ‘Yambo;’ and I have to say ‘Yambo.’ And, in order to show my gratitude to them, I emphasize it with ‘Yambo Sana! Sana! Sana?’ (Are you well? Quite well, quite, quite well?) And if they repeat the words I am more than doubly grateful, and invite them to a seat on the bearskin. This bearskin of mine is the evidence of my respectability, and if we are short of common-place topics we invariably refer to the bearskin, where there is room for much discussion.

“Having disposed of my usual number of ‘Yambos’ for the morning I begin to feel ‘peckish,’ as the sea skipper says, and Feragji, the cook, and youthful Kalulu, the chief butler, are again called and told to bring ‘chukula’—food. This is the breakfast put down on the table at the hour of ten punctually every morning:—Tea (ugali) a native porridge made out of the flour of dourra, holcus sorghum, or matama, as it is called here; a dish of rice and curry. Unyanyembe is famous for its rice, fried goat’s meat, stewed goat’s meat, roast goat’s meat, a dish of sweet potatoes, a few ‘slapjacks’ or specimens of the abortive efforts of Feragji to make dampers or pancakes, to be eaten with honey. But neither Feragji’s culinary skill nor Kalulu’s readiness to wait on me can tempt me to eat. I have long ago eschewed food, and only drink tea, milk and yaourt—Turkish word for ‘clabber’ or clotted milk.

“After breakfast the soldiers are called, and together we begin to pack the bales of cloth, string beads and apportion the several loads which the escort must carry to Ujiji some way or another. Carriers come to test the weight of the loads and to inquire about the inducements offered by the ‘Muzungu.’ The inducements are in the shape of so many pieces of cloth, four yards long, and I offered double what any Arab ever offered. Some are engaged at once, others say they will call again, but they never do, and it is of no use to expect them when there is war, for they are the cowardliest people under the sun.

“Since we are going to make forced marches I must not overload my armed escort, or we shall be in a pretty mess two or three days after we start; so I am obliged to reduce all loads by twenty pounds, to examine my kit and personal baggage carefully, and put aside anything that is not actually and pressingly needed; all the ammunition is to be left behind except one hundred rounds to each man. No one must fire a shot without permission, or waste his ammunition in any way, under penalty of a heavy fine for every charge of powder wasted. These things require time and thought, for the Herald Expedition has a long and far journey to make. It intends to take a new road—a road with which few Arabs are acquainted—despite all that Skeikh, the son of Nasib, can say against the project.

“It is now the dinner hour, seven P. M. Feragji has spread himself out, as they say. He has all sorts of little fixings ready, such as indigestible dampers, the everlasting ugali, or porridge, the sweet potatoes, chicken, and roast quarter of a goat; and lastly, a custard, or something just as good, made out of plantains. At eight P. M. the table is cleared, the candles are lit, pipes are brought out, and Shaw, my white man is invited to talk. But poor Shaw is sick and has not a grain or spirit of energy left in him. All I can do or say does not cheer him up in the least. He hangs down his head, and with many a sigh declares his inability to proceed with me to Ujiji.”

On the 15th of July, war was declared between Mirambo and the Arabs. In this war, it will be recollected, Mr. Stanley with his men took part. The result was disaster, ensuing from Mirambo’s stratagem, as so graphically related in the cable telegram. The continuation of this war is thus described:

“Mirambo, with one thousand guns, and one thousand five hundred Watuda’s, his allies, invaded Unyanyembe, and pitched their camp insolently within view of the Arab capital of Tabora. Tabora is a large collection of Arab settlements, or tembes, as they are called here. Each Arab house is isolated by the fence which surrounds it. Not one is more than two hundred yards off from the other, and each has its own name, known, however, to but few outsiders. South by west from Tabora, at the distance of a mile and a half, and in view of Tabora is Kwihara, where the Herald expedition has its quarters. Kwihara is a Kinyamwezi word, meaning the middle of the cultivation. There is quite a large settlement of Arabs here—second only to Tabora. But it was Tabora and not Kwihara that Mirambo, his forest thieves and the Watula came to attack. Khamis bin Abdallah, the bravest Trojan of them all—of all the Arabs—went out to meet Mirambo with eighty armed slaves and five Arabs, one of whom was his little son, Khamis. As Khamis bin Abdallah’s party came in sight of Mirambo’s people Khamis’ slaves deserted him, and Mirambo then gave the order to surround the Arabs and press on them. This little group in this manner became the targets for about one thousand guns, and of course in a second or so were all dead—not, however, without having exhibited remarkable traits of character.

“They had barely died before the medicine men came up, and with their scalpels had skinned their faces and their abdominal portions, and had extracted what they call ‘mafuta,’ or fat, and their genital organs. With this matter which they had extracted from the dead bodies the native doctors or waganga made a powerful medicine, by boiling it in large earthen pots for many hours, with many incantations and shakings of the wonderful gourd that was only filled with pebbles. This medicine was drunk that evening with great ceremony, with dances, drum beating and general fervor of heart.

“Khamis bin Abdallah dead, Mirambo gave his orders to plunder, kill, burn, and destroy, and they went at it with a will. When I saw the fugitives from Tabora coming by the hundred to our quiet valley of Kwihara, I began to think the matter serious and began my operations for defence. First of all, however, a lofty bamboo pole was procured and planted on the roof of our fortlet, and the American flag was run up, where it waved joyously and grandly, an omen to all fugitives and their hunters.

“All night we stood guard; the suburbs of Tabora were in flames; all the Wanyamwezi and Wanguana houses were destroyed, and the fine house of Abid bin Sulemian had been ransacked and then committed to the flames, and Mirambo boasted that ‘to-morrow’ Kwihara should share the fate of Tabora, and there was a rumor that that night the Arabs were going to start for the coast. But the morning came, and Mirambo departed with the ivory and cattle he had captured, and the people of Kwihara and Tabora breathed freer.

“And now I am going to say farewell to Unyanyembe for a while. I shall never help an Arab again. He is no fighting man, or I should say, does not know how to fight, but knows personally how to die. They will not conquer Mirambo within a year, and I cannot stop to see that play out. There is a good old man waiting for me somewhere, and that impels me on. There is a journal afar off which expects me to do my duty, and I must do it. Goodby; I am off the day after to-morrow for Ujiji; then, perhaps, the Congo River.”

After this followed a number of telegrams to the “Herald” from the expedition, but their substance has been given in what has preceded, to show the general outline of explorations up to the time of the meeting of Livingstone and Stanley at Ujiji. There are, however, but few accounts of travel more interesting and valuable than the letter to the “Herald” narrating the events of the journey from Unyanyembe to Ujiji, and the meeting with Livingstone. The greater portion of this remarkable narrative is appended: