"What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?"
"Yes, sir."
"In this village?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you sure?"
"Sure, sure, sir. Why, I leave him just now.""
"Good morning, sir," said another voice.
"Hallo," said I, "is this another one?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, what is your name?"
"My name is Chumah, sir."
"What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?"
"Yes, sir."
"And is the-Doctor well?"
" Not very well, sir."
"Where has he been so long?"
"In Manyuema."
"Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming."
"Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman.
But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village,
and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our
march. Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were
pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for
according to their account, we belonged to them. But the great
wonder of all was, "How did you come from Unyanyembe?"
Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he had told
the Doctor I was coming, but the Doctor was too surprised to believe
him, and when the Doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered.
But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the
Doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns
were firing, and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab
magnates of Ujiji - Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin
Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others - had gathered together
before the Doctor's house, and the Doctor had come out from his
veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival.
In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the
kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim
said to me, "I see the Doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has
got a white beard." And I - what would I not have given for a bit
of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some
mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand; turning a somersault,
or slashing at trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings
that were well-nigh uncontrollable. My heart beats fast, but I must
not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the
dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.
So I did that which I thought was most dignified. I pushed back
the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue
of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, before
which stood the "white man with the grey beard."
As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, that he
looked wearied and wan, that he had grey whiskers and moustache,
that he wore a bluish cloth cap with a faded gold band on a red
ground round it, and that he had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a
pair of grey tweed trousers.
