Many people told me that they had known Speke and Grant; the
former bore the name of "Mollegge" (the bearded one), while Grant had
been named "Masanga" (the elephant's tusk), owing to his height. The
latter had been wounded at Lucknow during the Indian mutiny, and I spoke
to the people of the loss of his finger. This crowned my success, as
they knew without doubt that I had seen him. It was late, therefore I
begged the crowd to depart, but to send a messenger the first thing in
the morning to inform Kamrasi who we were, and to beg him to permit us
to visit him without loss of time.
A bundle of straw was laid on the ground for Mrs. Baker and myself, and,
in lieu of other beds, the ground was our resting-place. We were
bitterly cold that night, as the guns were packed up in the large
blanket, and, not wishing to expose them, we were contented with a
Scotch plaid each. Ibrahim, Saat, and Richarn watched by turns.
On the following morning an immense crowd of natives thronged to see us.
There was a very beautiful tree about a hundred yards from the village,
capable of shading upward of a thousand men, and I proposed that we
should sit beneath this protection and hold a conference.
