On the 31st of January, at Mwaru, Sultan Ka-mirambo, we met a
caravan under the leadership of a slave of Sayd bin Habib, who
came to visit us in our camp, which was hidden in a thick clump
of jungle. After he was seated, and had taken his coffee,
I asked,
"What is thy news, my friend, that thou bast brought from
Unyanyembe?"
"My news is good, master."
"How goes the war?"
"Ah, Mirambo is where? He eats the hides even. He
is famished. Sayd bin Habib, my master, hath possession of
Kirira. The Arabs are thundering at the gates of Wilyankuru.
Sayd bin Majid, who came from Ujiji to Usagozi in twenty days,
hath taken and slain `Moto' (Fire), the King. Simba of Kasera
hath taken up arms for the defence of his father, Mkasiwa of
Unyanyembe. The chief of Ugunda hath sent five hundred men
to the field. Ough - Mirambo is where? In a month he will
be dead of hunger."
"Great and good news truly, my friend."
"Yes-in the name of God."
"And whither art thou bound with thy caravan?"
"Sayd, the son of Majid, who came from Ujiji, hath told us of
the road that the white man took, that he had arrived at Ujiji
safely, and that he was on his way back to Unyanyembe.
