The New York Herald Newspaper, August 9, 1872, Page 3

THE LAND OF THE MOON. A Graphic Pen Picture of Unyamwezi. Scenic Characteristics, Inhabitants and Cultivation of Central Africa. A LAND OF FEVERS. ‘BIRDSEYE VIEW OF UNYANYEMBE. A Three Months’ Delay--Diseouragement by the Arabs and the Natives. Life in the Herald Camp at Kwihara. Curiosities of African Cuisine and Soeial Amenities. ARRAIGNMENT OF DR. KIRK. Hunting Hartebeests and Sport- ing---Cruel Neglect to Forward Stores to Livingstone. OUTBREAK OF THE MIRAMBO WAR Attack by the Arabs and the Herald Force on His Villages. See THE AMBUSH BY HIS FOREST THIEVES, Slaughter and Rout of the Arabs--De- sertion of the Herald Men. PLUNDER AND BURNING OF TABORA. Heroic Death of Khamis Bin Abdallah, Disgusting Savage Rites with the Dead. Wortification of K-wihara— Mirambo Retires. On TO UJSIJAI. Kwinana, UNYANYEMBR, Sept. 21, 1871. How can I describe my feelings to you, that you May comprehend exactly the condition that 1 am in, the condition that I have been in, and the ex- tremely wretched condition that the Arabs and Blave trading people of the Mrima—the hill land or the coast—would fain keep me in? For the last ‘two months I have been debating in my own mind as to my best course. Resolves have not been ‘wanting, but up to to-day they have failed. I am no nearer the object of my search apparently than I was two years ago, when you gave me the Instructions at the hotel in Paris called the “Grand Hotel.” This object of my search you know is Livingstone—Dr. David Livingtone-- F.R.G.8., LL. D., &¢. Is this Dr. David Livingstone a myth? Is there any such person living? If 20, where is he? I ask everyboay—Omani, Arab-half- caste, Wamruia-pagazis—but no man knows, I Mt up my head, shake off day dreams and ask the silent plains around and the still dome of azure upheaving to infinity above, where can he be? No answer, The altitude of my people, the asinine obstinacy of Bombay, the evidently determined op- position of the principal Arabs to my departure from here, the war with Mirambo, the other un- known road to Central Lake, the impossibility of obtaining pagazis, all combine, or seem to, to say :— “Thou shalt never find him. Thou shalt neither hear of him. Thou shalt die here.” DISCOURAGEMENTS. Sheikh, the son of Nasib, one of the ruling Powers, here declares it an impossibility to reach Ujijl Daily he vexes me with ‘There is no road; all roads are closed; the Wakonongo, the Wagara and the Wawendi are coming from the south to help Mirambo; if you go tothe north, Usukuma is the country of Mirambo’s mother; if you take the Wildjankuru road, that is Mirambo’s own country. ‘You see, then, sir, the impossibility of reaching the Tanganyika. My advice is that you wait until Mi- rambo is killed, then, inshallah (please God), the Toad will be open, or go back.” And often- times I explode, and cry out:—‘What! wait here unti] Mirambo is killed? You were five years fighting Manua Sera! Go back! after spending $20,000! O Sheikh, the son of Nasib, no Arab can fathom the soul of a muzunga (white man)! Igo on and Will not wait until you kill Mirambo; I go on, and will not go back until I shall have’secn the Tanganyika,” and this morning I added, ‘and the @ay after to-morrow I start.”’ “Well, master,” he replied, ‘‘be it as you say; but put down the words ofSheikh, the son of Nasib, for they are worthy to be remembered.” CYNICISM. He has only just parted from me, and to comfort Myself after the ominous words I write to you. I wish I could write as fast as the thoughts crowd my mind. Then what a wild, chaotic and incoherent letter you would have! But my pen is stiff, the Paper is abominable, and before a sentence is framed the troubled mind gets somewhat calmer. I am spiteful, 1 candidly confess, just now; I am cynical—I do not care who knows it. Fever has made me s0. My whining white servant contributes toward it. ‘The stubbornness of Bombay—“incarnation of hon- esty” Burton calls him—is enough to make one cynical, The false tongues of these false-hearted Arabs drive me on to spitefulness; the cowardice of my soldiers is a proverb with me. The rock daily, hourly growing larger and more formidable against which the ship of the expedition must split—so says everybody, and what everybody says must be true— Makes me flerce and savage-hearted. Yet I say ‘that the day after to-morrow every man Jack of us ‘who can walk shall march. . NEWSPAPER SCRAPS, But before the expedition tries the hard road ‘gain—before it commences the weary, weary March once more—can I not gain some information about Livingstone from the scraps of newspapers Jhave been industriously clipping for some’ time pack? May they not with the more mature Rnowledge I have obtained of the interior since I went on this venture give me 4 hint which I might advantageously adopt? Here they are, a dozen of ‘them, fifteen, twenty, over thirty bits of paper. Bere ia one, Ab. dolor of heart, where art thou? NEW YORK HERALD, FRIDAY, AUGUSY 9, 1872.-WITH SUPPLEMENT. ‘This mirth-provoking bit of newspaper is almost a physician tome, Iread:— i “ Zante, Fob, 6, 1670 lade! . a coming from Fans laden. ns completely “perished from this Nayamweze, has disease in To you who stay at home in America may be accorded forgiveness if you do not quite under- stand where “Nayamweze” or “Ujiji” is; but to the British politico and Her Britannic Majesty’s Consul, Dr. John Kirk, @ former companion of Livingstone, @ man ef science, a member of the Roya) Geograph- ical Society, and one who is said to be in constant communication with Livingstone, forgiveness for such gross ignorance igs impossible. A paraliel case of ignorance would be in a ew York editor writing, “I am also told by Yr. So and So that a large wagon train, bringing silver bricks from Montana, has perished in Alaska.’’? Ujijil, you must remember, is about a menth’s march westward o: Uryamwezi—not “Nayamweze’’—and to me it is inconceivable how @ person in the habit of writing weckly to his gov- ernment about Livingstone should have conceived Ujyji to be somewhere between the coast and “Nayamweze,” as he calls it. But then I am spite- ful this morning of September 21, and there is nothing loveable under the sun at this present time except the memory of my poor little dog “Omar,” who fell @ victim to the Makata Swamp. Poor Omar! THE FAITH OF SIR RODERICE, Amid these many scraps or clippings all about Livingstone there are many more which contain as ludicrops mistakes, mostly all of them having emanated from the same scientific pen as the above. I find one wherein Sir R, Murchison, President of the Royal Geographical Society, stoutly maintains that Livingstone’s tenacity of purpose, undying resolution and herculean frame will overcome every obstacle, Through several scraps runs a vein of doubt and unbelief in the existence of the explorer. The writers seem to incline that he has at last syccumbed. But to the very latest date Sir Roderick mdes tri- umphant over all doubts and fears. At the very nick of time he has always a letter from Livingstone himself, or a despatch from Livingstone to Lord Clarendon, or a private note from Dr. Livingstone to his friend Kirk at Zanzibar. Happy Sir Roderick! Good, Sir Roderick! a healthy, soul-inspiring faith is thine, Well, Fam to tell you the outspoken trath, tor- mented by the same doubts and fears that people in America and England are—to-day uncommonly so. Iblame the fever. Yet, though I have heard nothing that would lead me to believe Livingstone is. alive, 1 derive much comfort in reading Sir Roderick’s speech to the society of which he is President. THE CHANCES AGAINST LIVINGSTONE, But though he has tenacity of purpose and is the most resolute of travellers, he is but a man, who, if alive, is old in years. Ihave but to send for Said bin Habib, who claims to be the Doctor’s best friend, and who lives but a rifle shot from the camp. of the HERALD ana Livingstone expeditions, and he will tell me how he found him so sick with fever that it seemed as if the tired spirit was about to take its eternal rest. I have but to ask Suliman Dowa, or Thomas, how he found “old Daoud Fellas- teen”—David Livingstone—and he will tell me he saw a very old man, with very gray beard and mus- tache, who ought to be home now instead of wan- dering among those wild cannibals of Manyema. THE KNAVISH SHERIF, What made me to-day give way to fears for Livingstone’s life was that a letter had reached Unyanyembe, from a man called Sherif, who is in charge of Livingstone’s goods at Ujiji, wherein he asked permission from Said bin Salim, the Gover- nor here, to sell Livingstone’s goods for ivory, wherein he states farther that Sherif had sent his slaves to Manyema to look for the white man, and that these slaves had returned without hearing any news of him, He (Sherif) was therefore tired of waiting, and it would be much better if he were to receive orders to dispose of the white man’s cloth and beads for ivory. It is strange that these goods, which were sent to Ujijt over @ year ago, have not yet been touched, and the fact that Livingstone has not been in Ujiji to receive his last year’s supplies puzzles also Said bin Salim, Governor of Unyanyembe, or, rather, of Tabora and Kwihara, as well as it puzzles Sheikh, the son of Nasib, accredited Consul of Syed Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar and Pemba at the Courts of Rumanika and Mtesa, Kings respectively of Karagwah and Uganda. THE FATE OF LIVINGSTONE’S STORES. In the storeroom where the cumbersome moneys of the New YorK HERALD Expedition lie piled up vale upon bale, sack after sack, coll after coi), 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. WhenI came up with my Jast carayan 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 middie,” or “between.” Before he could get carriers he died of dysentery. He was succeded 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. TRUTHFUL SHERIF, To the statement that the man Sherif makes, that he has sent slaves to Manyema to search for Dr. Livingstone, I pay not the slightest attention. Sherif, I am told, is a half-caste. Half Arab, halfnegro. Happy amalgamation! All Arabs and ail half castes, especially when it 1s in their interest to lic, lle without stint. What and who is thia man Sherif, that he should, unasked, send his slaves twenty days off to search for @ white man? 1t was not for his interest to send out men, but it was policy to say that he had done so, and that his slaves had returned without hearing of him. He is, therefore, in a hurry to sell off and make money at the expense of Livingstone, This man has treated the old traveller shamefally— like some other men I know of, who, if I live, will be exposed through your col- umns. But why should I not do 80 now? What better time is there than the present ? Well, here it is—coolly, calmly and deliberately. I have studied the whole thing since I came here, and can- not do better than give you the result of the search- ing inquiries instituted, DR. KIRK'S NEGLECT. Itis the case of the British Public vs. Dr. John Kirk, Acting Political Agent and Her Britannic Majesty’s Consul at Zanzibar, as I understand it. The case is briefly this:—Some time in October, 1870, Henry Adrian Churchill, Esq., was Political Agent and Her Britannic Majesty's Consul at Zanzi- bar. Me fitted out during that month a small ex- pedition to carry supplies to Dr. Livingstone, under the escort of seven or elght men, who were to act as armed soldiers, porters or servants. They ar- rived at Bagomoyo, on the mainland, during the latter part of October. About the latter part of October or the early part of November Mr. Churchili left Zanzibar for England, and Dr. John Kirk, the present occupant of the consular chair, succeeded him as “acting” in the capacity Mr. Snurehill heretofore had done. A letter bag, con- taining letters to Dr. Livingstone, was sealed up by Dr, John Kirk at Zanzibar, on which was written “November 1, 1870—Registered letters for Dr. David Livingstone, Ujiji,” from which it appears that the letter bag was closed on the 1st November, 1870, On the 6th January, 1871, your correspondent in charge of the New York HenaLp Expedition arrived at Zanzibar, and then and there heard of @ caravan being at Bagomoyo, bound for the interior with supplies for Dr. Livingstone, On the 4th of February, 1871, your correspondent in charge of the HrRatp Ex- Pedition arrived at Bagomoyo and found this cara- van of Dr. Livingstone’s still at Bagomoyo. On or about the 18th February, 1871, appeared off Bago- moyo Her Britannic Majesty’s gunboat Columbine, Captain Tucker, having on board Dr. John Kirk, acting Her Britannic Majesty’s Consul. Three days before Dr. John Kirk arrived at Bagomoyo Livingstone’s caravan started for the interior, hur- ried, no doubt, by the report that the English Con- sul was coming. That evening about the hour of seven P, M, your correepondent dined at the French mission in company with the péres, Dr. Kirk and Captain Tucker of the Columbine. The next morn- ing Dr. Kirk and Captain Tucker and another gen- teman from the Columbine, and Pere Homer, Su- Perlor of the French mission, left for Kikoko, first camp on the Unyanyembe road beyond the Knigani River; or, in other words, the second camp for the up caravans from Bagomoyo. Pere Homer returned to Bagomoyo the evening of that same day; but Messrs. Kirk and Tucker, the French Consul, M. Diviane, and, I believe, the sur- Geon of the Columbine, remained behind that they might enjoy the sport which the left bank of the Knigani offered them. HUNTING BUT NOT SEARCHING, A goed deal of ammunition was wasted, I heard, by the naval officers, because, “you know, they have only pea rifles,” so said Dr. Kirk tome. But Dr. Kirk, the companion of Livingstone and some- thing ofa sportsman, I am told bagged one hartbeest and one giraffe only in the four or five days the party was out. M. Diviane, or Divien, hurried back to Bagomoyo and Zanzibar with a plece of the aforesaid hartbeest, that the white people on that island might enjoy the sight and hear how the wondrous ant- mal fell before the unerring riffle of that learned showman of wild beasts, Dr. John Kirk. Showman of wild beasts did Isay? Yes. Well I adhere to it and repeat it, Bnt to proceed. At the end of a week or thereabouts the party-were said to have arrived at the French mission again, I rode up from the camp of the IlzRaLp Expedition to see them. They were sitting down to dinner, and we all heard the graphic yarn about the death of the hartbeest. It was a fine animal they all agreed. “But, Doctor, did you not have something else?” (Question by leader of HaRaLD Expedition.) “No! we saw lots of game, you know—giraffe, zebra, wild boar, &¢,—but they were made so wild, you know, by the firing of pea rifles by tne officers, that immediately one began to stalk them off they went. I would not have got the hartbeest if I had not gone alone.” Well, next morning Dr. Kirk and areverend padre came to visit the camp of the HgraLp Ex- pedition, partook of a cup of tea in my tent, then went to see Moussoua about Dr. Livingstone’s things. They were told that the caravan had gone severa) days before, Satisfied that nothing more could be done, after a déeuner at the French Mis- sion, Dr. Kirk about eleven A. M. went on board the Columbine. About half-past three P.M. the Columbine steamed for Zanzibar. A PALSE REPORT. On the 15th of March your correspondent re- turned to Zanzibar to settle up the last accounts connected with the expedition. While at Zanzibar your correspondent heard that the report had in- dustriously been spread among those interested in Livingstone, the traveller, that Dr. Kirk had hur- ried off the Livingstone caravan at once, and that he had accompanied the said caravan beyond the Knigani, and that your correspondent could not possibly get any pagazis whatever, as he (Dr. Kirk) had secured them all, I wondered, but said nothing, Really the whole were marvellous, were it not opposed to fact. Livingstone’s caravan needed but thirty-three men; the HERALD Expedition required 140 men, all told. Before the Livingstone caravan had started the first caravan of the HeRnaLp Expedition had preceded them by four days. By the 16th of March 121 men were secured for the HeraLp Expedition, and for the remainder donkeys were substituted. PROVING IT FALSE, June 23 saw us at Unyanyembe, and there I heard the reports of the chiefs of the several caravans of the HenaLp Expedition. Livingstone's caravan was also there, and the men in charge were inter- rogated by me with the following questions :— Q. When did you see Dr. Kirk last? A. 1st of November, 1870, Q. Where? A. At Zanzibar. Q. Did you not see him at Bagomoyo ? A. No; but we heard that he had been at Bagomoyo ? Q. Is this true; quite, quite true t A. Quite true, Wallah (by Goa). The story is told. This is the case—a case, as] understand it to be, of the British Public vs. John Kirk. Does it not appear to you that Dr. John Kirk never had a word to say, never had @ word to write to his old friend Dr. Livingstone all the time from 1st November, 1870, to about the 15th Febra- ary, 1871; that during all this period of three anda half months Dr. John Kirk showed great unkind- ness, unfriendliness towards the old travelier, his former companion, in not pushing the caravan carrying supplies to the man with whom all who have read of him sympathize ao much? Does it not seem to you, a8 it does to me, that had Dr. John Kirk bestirred himself in his grand character of English “Balyuz”—a noble name and great title out here in these lands—that that small caravan of thirty-three men might have been despatched within a week or so after their arrival at Bagomoyo, by which it would have arrived here in Unyan- yembe long before Mirambo’s war broke out? This war broke out June 15, 1871. THE CASE AGAINST KIRK. Well, I leave the case in your hands, assured that your intelligence, your natural power of discrimi- nation, your fine sense of justice, will enable you to decide whether this man Dr. John Kirk, professed friend of Livingstone, has shown his friendship for Livingstone !n leaving his caravan three and a half months at Bagomoyo; whether, when he went over to Bagomoyo in the character of showman of wild beasts to gratify the sporting instincts of the ofii- cers of Her Britannic Majesty's ship Columbine, did he show any very kindly fecling to the hero traveller when he left the duty of looking up that caravan of the Doctor's till the last thing on the programme. UNYAMWEZI. Unyamweri is a romantic name. It is “Land of the Moon” rendered into Engiish—*s romantic and sweet in Kinyamwezi as any that Stamboul or Ispahan can boast is to a Turk ora Persian. The * attraction, however, toa 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. I shudder at the sound of the name, It is pregnant in ite every syllable to me. Whenever I think of the word imme- diately come theughts of colycinth, rhubarb, calomel, tartar emetic, ipecacuanha and quinine into my head, and I feel qualmish about the gastric regions and I wish I were a thousand miles away Irom it. IfI 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 bet- ter countries where he cculd do so much better he would be a madman if he ignored those to settle in this, And, supposing it were necessary to send an expedition such as that which boldly entered Abyssinia to Unyamwezi, the results would be worse than the retreat of Napoleon from Moscow. No, an ordinary English soldier could never live here. Yet you must not think of Unyamwezi as you would of an American swamp; you must not imagine Unyamwezi to have deep morasses, slushy beds of mud, infested with all abominable reptiles, or a jungle where the lion and the leopard have their dens. Nothing of the «ind. Unyamwezi is @ different kind of country altogether from that. To know the general outline and physical features of Unyamwezi you must take a look around from one of the nobie coigns of vantage offered by any of those hills of syenite, in the debatable ground of Mgunda Makall, in Uyanzi. A BIRDSEYE VIEW, From the summit of one of those natural for- tresses, 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 8 view of Unyamwezi is inspiring; and, were it pos- sible for you to wing yourself westward on to Qnother 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, Hille of syenite are seen dotting the vast Prospect, like islands in a sca, presenting in their external appearance. to an imaginative eye, rude j imitations of castelated 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 holeus sorghum, of mullet, of vetches, &c,—among which you may discern the patches devoted to the culti- vation of sweet potatees and manioc, and pas- ture lands where browse the hump-shouldered cattle of Africa, fock#ot goats and sheep. This is the acene 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 expedi- tion views it unwelcomed by song and tumultuous chorus, for rest is at hand, THE DARK SIDE OF THE PICTURE. 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 intermit- tent, are unequalled in their sevority. EXTENT OP UNYAMWEZI. 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 aro Unyanyembe, Ugunda, Ugara, Tura, Rubuga, Kigwa, Usagozi and Uyoweh. Fach district has its own chief prince, king, or mtemi, as he is called in Kinyamwezi. Unyanyembe, how- ever, 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. Z A VOREST LAND. AN 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 onc 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. GAME. The forests of Southern Unyamwezi contain a large variety of game and wild beasts. In these, may be found herds of elephants, buffaloes, giraftes zebras, elands, hartbeests, zebras, springboks, pal- Jahs, black bucks and a score of otner kinds, In the neighborhood of the Gombe (Southern) may be seen auy number of wild boars and hogs, lions and leop- ards. The Gombe itself is remarkable for the num- ber of hippopotami and crocadiles to be found in it. LIFE IN UNYANYEMBE. I have been in Unyanyembe close on to three months now. By and by I shall tell you why; but first 1 should like to give youa glimpse of our life here. The HERALD Expedition has its quarters in a large, strong house, built of mud, with walls three feet thick. Itisof one story, witha broad mud veranda in front anda broad flatroof, The great door is situated directly in the centre of the front, and is the only one possible means of ingress ‘and egress. Entering in af this door we find @ roomy hallway; on our right is the strong storeroom, where the goods of the Heratp Expedition and Livingstone’s cara- van are kept well padiocked up to guard against burglars. Soldiers at night occupy this hallway with loaded guns, and during the day there are always two men on guard, besides Burton’s bull-headed Mabrouki, who acts as my porter or policeman. On our ieft is @ room open to the hallway, on the floor of which are spread straw Mats and two or three Persian carpets, where the Arab sheikhs squat when they come to visit me, Passing through tie hallway we come to the court- yard, a large quadrangle, fenced in and built around with houses, There are about a dozen pome- granate trees planted in the yard, more for their shade than for their fruit, The houses around con- sist, first, of the granary, where we keep the rice, the matama, the Indian corn, the sweet potatoes, &c.} next comes the very much besmoked kitchen, a primitive affair, merely a few stones on which the pots are placed. The cook and his youthful sube are protected from the influences of the weather by a@ shea. xt to the kitchen is the stable, where the few remain- ing animals of the expedition are housed at night. ‘These are two donkeys, one mulch cow and six milch goats. The cow and the goats furnish me with milk for my gruel, my pud- dings, my sauces and my tea. (1 was obliged to attend to my comfort and make use of the best Africa offers.) Next to the stabie is anotier large shed, which serves as barracks for the soldiers. Hefe they stow themselves and their wives, their pots and beds, and find it pretty comfortable. Next t this is the house of the white man, my Baatical heip, where he can be just as excinsive as he Tikes, has his own bedroom veranda, bathroom, &c. ; his tent serves him for @ curtain, and, in English phrase, he has often declared it to be “jolly and no mistake.” Occupying the half of one side of the house are my quarters, said quarters consisting of two well-plastered and neat rooms. My ta- ble is an oxhide stretched over @ wooden frame. Two portmanteaus, onc on top of the other, serve forachair. My bedstead is only a duplicate of my table, over which l spread my bearskin and Persian carpet. RECEIVING VISITS, When the very greatest and most important of the Arab sheikhs visit me Selim, my invaluable ad- junct, is always told to fetch the bearskin and Per. sian carpet from the bed. Recesses in the solid wal! answer for shelves and cupboards, where I de- posit my cream pots and butter and cheese (which I make myself) and my one bottle of Worcestershire sauce and my tin candlestick. Benind this room, winch is the bed, reception, sitting, drawing room, office, pantry, &c., is my bathroom, where are my saddle, my guns and ammunition always ready, my tools and the one hundred little things which an expedition into the country must have, Adjoining my quarters is the jail of the fortliet, called “tempe” here—a@ small room, eight by six feet, lit up by a small air hole just large enough to put a rifle through—where my incorrigibles are kept for forty hours, without food, in solitary confinement, ‘This solitary confinement answers admirably, about as well as being chained when on the road, and much better than brotal nogging. THE DAILY ROUND. In the carly 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 Feragjl, the cook, who, long ago warned by the noise I make when I rouse up, is told in unmis- takable tones to bring “chai” (tea), for I am like an old woman, I love tea very much, and can take @ quart and «@ half without any in- convenience. Kalalu, ® boy of seven, all the way from Cazembe’s country, is my waiter and ciNef butler. He understands my ways and mode of life exactly. Some weeks ago he ousted Selim from the post of chief butler by stieer diligence and smartness, Selim, the Arab boy, cannot walt at table. Kalulu—young antelope—is frisky. I have but to express @ wish and it is gratified. He is @ perfect Mercury, though a marvel- lously black one, Tea over, Kalulu clears the dishes and retires under the kitchen shed, where, if I have a curiosity to know what he ia doing, he may be scen with his tongue in the tea cup licking up the sugar that was left in it ond looking very much ae if he would like to eat the cup for the sake of the divine element ft has s@ often contained, . If] have any calls to make this is generally the hour; if there are none to make I go on the piasza and subside quietly on my bearskin to dream, may be, of that far off land J call my own or to gaze to- wards 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 (I have never seen the Arab or Msawabili who had ever heard of Kaze. Said bin Salim, who has been travelling in this country with Burton, Speke and Grant, declares he ever heard of it) ; or to look towards lofty Zimbil1 and wonder why the Arabs, at such a crisis as the present, donot 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; this constitution of mine is not able to stand it;s0 I make some ethnological notes and pohsh up alittle my geographical knowledge of Central Africa. YAMBO—MOHOLO, Thave te greet about 499 people of all sorts with the salutation “Yambo,” This “Yambo” is a great, word. It may mean “How do you dof” “How are yout” “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?) Aand 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 evi- dence 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, If 1 go to visit the Arabs, as I sometimes do, I find their best Persian carpets, their silk counterpanes and kitandas gorgeously decorated in my honor. One of the principal Arabs here is famous for this kind ofhonor-doing. No sooner did I show my face than I heard the order given to a slave to produce the Kitanda, that the Muzunga—white man— might lie thereon, and that the populous village of Maroro might behold, The silk counterpane was spread over a cotton-stuffed bed; the enormously fat pillows, covered with a vari-colored stuff, tn- vited the weary head; the rich carpet of Ajim Spread alonside of the Kitanda was a great tempta- tion, but I was not to be tempted; 1} could not afford to be so effeminate as lic down while four ; hundred or five hundred looked on to see how I went throngh the operaiion. BRRAKFAST—ONUKULA. Having disposed of my usual number of. “Yam- bos"? for the morning I begin to feel “peckish,” as the sea skipper says, and Feragji, the cook, and youthful Kalula, the chief butler, are again called and told to bring “chukula’—food. This is the break{ast 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, holens sorghum, or matama, as it Is called here; a dish of rice and curry Unyanyembe is famous for its rics, fried goat's ment, stewed goat’s meat, roast goat’s meat, a dish of sweet potatoes, a few “slapjacks” or speci- meus of the abortive efforts of Feragji to make campers 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—Tfurkish word for ‘‘clabber’’ or clotted milk. Plenty of time to eat goat meat when we shall be on the march; but just now—no, thank you. i COUNTING THE MONEY. 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 #0 many pieces of cloth, four yards long, and I offer double what any Arab ever offesed. Some are en- | gaged 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 cowariliest people under the sun. REDUCING THE IMPEDIMENTA. Since we are going to make forced marches I must not overload my armed escort, or we shail be in @ pretty mess two or three days after we start; so [ am obliged to reduce all loads by twenty pounds, toexamine my kit and personal baggage carefully, and put aside anything that 15 not ac- tually and pressingly needed. As I examine my fine lot of cooking utensils, and consider the fear- fully long distance to Ujiji, IT begin to see that most of them are superfluous, and 1 vow that one saucepan and kettle for tea shail suffice, I must leave half my bed and half my clothes behind; all my persona! baggage is not to weigh over sixty-four pounds, Then there are the ammunition boxes to be looked to. Ah, me! When I started from the coast I remember how ardently 1 pursued the game; how I dived into the tall, wet grass; how I lost myself in the jungles; how I trudged over the open plains in search of vert and venison. And what did it all amount to? Killing @ few inoffensive animals the meat of which was not worth the trouble, And shall] waste my strength and energies tn chasing game? No, and the man who would do so at such a crisisas the present isa——, But! have my pri- vate opinion ofhim, and I know whereof J speak. Very Well; all the ammunition is to be left behind except 100 rounds to each man. No one must, fire a shot without permission, nor 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 Hrranp Expedition has a long and far journey to make, It intends to take a new road—aroad witli which few Arabs are acquainted—deapite all that Skeikh, the son of Nasib, can say against the project, DINNER. It is Dow the dinner hour, seven P.M. Ferrajii has spread himself out, as they say. He has all sorts of little Gxings ready, such as indigestibie dampers, the everiasting ngali, or porridge, the sweet potatoes, chicken and roast quarter of a goat; and lastly, a cnstard, or something just as good, made out of plantains. SHAW BICK, At cight P. M. the table is cleared, the candies 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 of spirit or energy leftin 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 Ujijl. in a most melancholy tone. “Well, my dear Shaw,” I begin, “you shall have a ance you require. I believe you are sick, but what is this sickness of yours I cannot, make out, not fever, for 1 could have cured you by this, as 1 have cured myself and as I have cured Selim; besides, this fever times. I think ifyou were to exert your will—and say you will go, say you will live—there would be leas chance of your being unable to reach the coast again. To be left behind, ignorant of how much medicine to take or when to take it, is to die, Re- member my words—if you stop behind in Unyan- yembe I fear for you. Why, how can you pass the many months that must elapse before I can re- turn to Unyanyembe? No man knows where Livingstone {#, He may be at Ujiji, he may be in Manyema, he may be going down the Congo River for the West Coast, and if I go down the Congo River after himI earinot return to Unyanyembe, and in that event where would you be?” “It is very truc, Mr. Stanley. I shali go with you, | but I feel very bad here (and he put his hand over | his liver) ; but, as you say, itisa great deal better to go on than stop behind.” ‘Not if you have a donkey to ride " I ask, | “Perhaps in that way I may be able,” says Shaw | donkey to ride and you shall have ali the attend. | It fa | ig a contemptible disease, though dangerous some- | which every day take you further into the nnin- teresting country, all these combined had their ef- fect.on him, and when he arrived in Unyanyembe he was laid up. Tnen his intercourse with the fe- males of Unyanyembe put the last finishing touch to his enfeebied frame, and I fear if the medicines I have sent for do not arrive in time'that he will die. It ts a sad fate, Yet i feel aure that if another expedition fitted out with all the care that the HenraLp Expedition was, fe- gardless of expense, if the members composing it are actuated by no higher motives than to get shooting or to indulge their lust, tt would meet with the same fate whieh has overtaken my white man Farquhar, and which seems likely will overtake Shaw. If on the day [depart from here this man is unwilling or unable to accompany. me T shall leave him here under charge of two of my soldiers, with everything that can tend to promote his comfort. THE CAUSE OF DETENTION, It was on the 2% day of June that the expedition arrived here, and after resting ten days or thereabouts I intended to have continued the journey to Ujijl. But a higher power ordained that We should not leave without serious trouble first. On the 6th of July we heard in Unyanyembe that Mirambo, a chief of Unyamwezi, had, after taking very heavy tribute from a caravan bound to Ujiji, turned it back, declaring that no Arab caravan should pass through his country while he was allve. The cause of it was this:—Mirambo, chief of Uyoweh, and Wilyankurn had a long grudge against Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe, with whom the Arabs lived on ex- tremely friendly terms, Mirambo proposed to the Arabs that they should side with him against Mkasiwa. ‘The Arabs replied that they could not possibly do so, as Mkasiwa was their friend, with wlom they lived on peaceable terms. Mirambo then. sent to them to say:—‘For many years I have fought against the Washeuse (the natives), but this year isagreat year withme, I intend to fight all the Arabs, a3 well as Mkasiwa, King of Unyanyembe.” MIRAMBO DECLARES WAR. On the 15th July war was declared petween Mirambo and the Arabs, Such being the | case, my position was as follows:—Mirambo occupies the country which Mes between the object of my search and Unyanyembe. 1 cannot possible reach Livingstone unless this man is out of the way—or peace is declared —nor can Livingstone reach Unyanyembe unless Mir- ambo ts killed, The Arabs have plenty of guns it they will only fight, and as their success will help me forward on my journey, I will go and help them, THE HERALD FORCE JOINS THE ARABS. On the 20th July a force of 2,000 men, the slaves and soldiers of the Arabs, marched from Unyau- yembe to fight Mirambo. The soldiers of the HeR- ALD Expedition to the number of forty, under my leadership, accompanied them. Of the Arabs’ mode of fighting I was totally ignorant, but I intended to be governed by circumstances. We made @ most imposing show, a8 you may im- agine, Every slave and soldier was decorated | with a crown Of feathers, and had a lengthy crimson | cloak owing trom his shoulders and tratling on | the ground. Each was armed with either a fint- lock or percussion gun—the Balocches with mateh- locks, profusely decorated with silver bands, Our progress was noisy in the extreme—as if noise would avali much in the expected battle. While | traversing the Unyanyembe plains the column was very irregular, owing to the extravagant show ot wild fight which they indulged in as we advanced. On the second duy we arrived at Mfuto, where we all feasted on meat freely slaughtered for the braves. Here | was attacked with a 8 vere fever, but as the army wes for advancing 1 had mysell carried in my hammock almost delirious. On the fourth day we arrived at the village of Zimbizo, which was taken without | much trouble. We had arrived in the enemy’s | country. 1 was still suffering from fever, and while | conscious bad given strict orders thut unless all the Arabs went together that none of my men | should go to fight with ony smail detachment. DEATH OF A SPY. On the morning of the fifth day a small detach- | ment went out to reconnoitre, and while out cap- | tured @ spy, who was thrown on the ground and had his head cut off immediately. Grow- ing valiant over this Lttle feat a body of Arabs under Sond, son of Said bin Majid, volunteéred to go and capture Wilyankuru, where Mirambo was just then with several of his princi- pal ciiefs. ney were 600 in number and very | ardent for the fight. I had suggested to the Gov- | ernor, Said bin Salim, that Soud bin Said, the leader of the 500 volunteers, should deploy his men | and fire the jong dry grass before they went, that | they might rout all the forest thieves out and have @ clean ficld for action, But an | Arab will never take advice, and they marched out | of Zimbizo without having taken this precaution. They arrived before Wilyankuru, and, after firing a | few volleys into the village, rushed tn at the gate | and entered the village. MIRAMUO'S AMBUSIL. While they entered by one gate Mirambo took 403 of his men out by another gate and instructed | them to lie down close to the road that | led from Wilyaukuru to Zimbizo, and | when the Arabs would return to get up at | a given signal, ard each to stab hisman. The | Arava found a good deal of ivory and captured a | large number of slaves, and, baving loaded them- seives with everything they thought vaiuable, pre- | pared to return by the same road they had gone. | When they had arrived opposite to where the am- | bush party was lying on each side the road Mir ambo gave the signal, and the forest tmteves rose as one man. Each taking hoid of his man, j speared him and cut off his head. TUE SLAUGHTER OF THE ARABS, Notan Arab escaped, but some of ther slaves | managed to eacape and bring the news to us at zimbizo, ‘There was great consternation at Zim- bizo when the news was brought, and some of the | principal Arabs were loud for a retreat, bat Khamis. | bin Abdallah and myself did our utmost to prevent | @ disgraceful retreat. xt morning, however, | when again incapucitated by fever from mov- ing about, the Governor came and told me the Arabs were going to leave for Unyanyembe, T advised him not to think of such a thing, a8 Mi- rambo would then follow them to Uuyanyembe and Mght them at thelr own doors, As he retired I could hear @ great noise outside. The Arabs and Wanyamwezi auxiliaries were already ranning away, and the Governor, without saying another word, mounte:t his donkey and put himself at their head and Was the first to reach the strong village of Mfuto, having accomplished a nine hours’ march in four honrs, which shows how fast a man can | travel when in a hurry. DESERTION OF THE HERAT SOLDTERS. One of my men came to tel! me there was not one soldier left; they had all run away. With dini- culty Lgot up and lthen saw the dangerous po sition Lhad placed myself in throagh my faith in Arab chivalry and brave: Twas des-rted except by one Khamis bin Abdallah, ant he was going. T | saw one of my soldiers leaving without taking my | tent, whichiay on the ground. Setzing a pistol, U | aimed it at him and compelted fim to take up the tent. e winte man, Shaw, as well as Bombay, | had lost their heads, Shaw had saddled his donkey with my saddie and was about leaving his chief to the tender mercies of Mirambo, when Selim, the Aral ' poy, sprung on him, and, pushing him aside, took | the saddie of, and told Bombay to saddle my | donkey. Bombay I believe would have stood by | me, as well as three or four others, but he | was incapable of collecting his senses. He was | seen viewing the fight of the Arabs with am angelic smile and with an insouciance of manner whieh can only be accounted for by the charitable suppo- sition that Is senses had entirely gone. With bitter feelings toward the Arabs for having | | | | | | | deserted me 1 gave the order to march, and in company with Selim, the brave Arab boys Shaw, who was now penitent; Bombay, who bad now regained his wits; Inabraki Speke Chanda, Sarmeen and Uredi Matin-a-Sera arrived at Mtuto But the truth is that like many others starting | at midnight. Four of my men had been slain by from the coast with superabundant health Shaw, oon after realizing what travel in Africa was, lost courage and heart. The ever-present danger from the natives and the monotony of the country, the fatigue one endures from the constant marches Mirambo's men. THE PLIGnT CONTINUED, The next day was but continuation of the re CONTINUED ON SIXTH PAGE,