He was successful in an assault he made
upon a small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm
Mfuto, he was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his
principal men. Upon withdrawing his forces from the attack, the
inhabitants sallied out, and followed him to the forest of Umanda,
where he was again utterly routed, himself ingloriously flying
from the field.
The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to
Kwikuru, the boma of Mkasiwa.
September 14th. - The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant
fever. Shaw is sick again. These two occupy most of my time.
I am turned into a regular nurse, for I have no one to assist
me in attending upon them. If I try to instruct Abdul Kader
in the art of being useful, his head is so befogged with the
villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders bewildered
about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until
I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely
for a full hour. If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted
cook, to assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea,
and I am thus obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine.
September 15th. - The third month of my residence in Unyanyembe is
almost finished, and I am still here, but I hope to be gone before
the 23rd inst.
