On The 10th June We Arrived At Kiti After A Journey Of Four Hours And A Half, Where We Found The Irrepressible Hamed Halted In Sore Trouble.

He who would be a Caesar, proved to be an irresolute Antony.

He had to sorrow over the death of a favourite slave girl, the loss of five dish-dashes (Arab shirts), silvered-sleeve and gold-embroidered jackets, with which he had thought to enter Unyanyembe in state, as became a merchant of his standing, which had disappeared with three absconding servants, besides copper trays, rice, and pilau dishes, and two bales of cloth with runaway Wangwana pagazis. Selim, my Arab servant, asked him, "What are you doing here, Sheikh Hamed? I thought you were well on the road to Unyanyembe." Said he, "Could I leave Thani, my friend, behind?"

Kiti abounded in cattle and grain, and we were able to obtain food at easy rates. The Wakimbu, emigrants from Ukimbu, near Urori, are a quiet race, preferring the peaceful arts of agriculture to war; of tending their flocks to conquest. At the least rumor of war they remove their property and family, and emigrate to the distant wilderness, where they begin to clear the land, and to hunt the elephant for his ivory. Yet we found them to be a fine race, and well armed, and seemingly capable, by their numbers and arms, to compete with any tribe. But here, as elsewhere, disunion makes them weak. They are mere small colonies, each colony ruled by its own chief; whereas, were they united, they might make a very respectable front before an enemy.

Our next destination was Msalalo, distant fifteen miles from Kiti. Hamed, after vainly searching for his runaways and the valuable property he had lost, followed us, and tried once more, when he saw us encamped at Msalalo, to pass us; but his pagazis failed him, the march having been so long.

Welled Ngaraiso was reached on the 15th, after a three and a half hours' march. It is a flourishing little place, where provisions were almost twice as cheap as they were at Unyambogi. Two hours' march south is Jiweh la Mkoa, on the old road, towards which the road which we have been travelling since leaving Bagamoyo was now rapidly leading.

Unyanyembe being near, the pagazis and soldiers having behaved excellently during the lengthy marches we had lately made, I purchased a bullock for three doti, and had it slaughtered for their special benefit. I also gave each a khete of red beads to indulge his appetite for whatever little luxury the country afforded. Milk and honey were plentiful, and three frasilah of sweet potatoes were bought for a shukka, equal to about 40 cents of our money.

The 13th June brought us to the last village of Magunda Mkali, in the district of Jiweh la Singa, after a short march of eight miles and three-quarters. Kusuri - so called by the Arabs - is called Konsuli by the Wakimbu who inhabit it. This is, however, but one instance out of many where the Arabs have misnamed or corrupted the native names of villages and districts.

Between Ngaraiso and Kusuri we passed the village of Kirurumo, now a thriving place, with many a thriving village near it. As we passed it, the people came out to greet the Musungu, whose advent had been so long heralded by his loud-mouthed caravans, and whose soldiers had helped them win the day in a battle against their fractious brothers of Jiweh la Mkoa.

A little further on we came across a large khambi, occupied by Sultan bin Mohammed, an Omani Arab of high descent, who, as soon as he was notified of my approach, came out to welcome me, and invite me to his khambi. As his harem lodged in his tent, of course I was not invited thither; but a carpet outside was ready for his visitor. After the usual questions had been asked about my health, the news of the road, the latest from Zanzibar and Oman, he asked me if I had much cloth with me. This was a question often asked by owners of down caravans, and the reason of it is that the Arabs, in their anxiety to make as much as possible of their cloth at the ivory ports on the Tanganika and elsewhere, are liable to forget that they should retain a portion for the down marches. As, indeed, I had but a bale left of the quantity of cloth retained for provisioning my party on the road, when outfitting my caravans on the coast, I could unblushingly reply in the negative.

I halted a day at Kusuri to give my caravan a rest, after its long series of marches, before venturing on the two days' march through the uninhabited wilderness that separates the district of Jiweh la Singa Uyanzi from the district of Tura in Unyanyembe. Hamed preceded, promising to give Sayd bin Salim notice of my coming, and to request him to provide a tembe for me.

On the 15th, having ascertained that Sheikh Thani would be detained several days at Kusuri, owing to the excessive number of his people who were laid up with that dreadful plague of East Africa, the small-pox, I bade him farewell, and my caravan struck out of Kusuri once more for the wilderness and the jungle. A little before noon we halted at the Khambi of Mgongo Tembo, or the Elephant's Back - so called from a wave of rock whose back, stained into dark brownness by atmospheric influences, is supposed by the natives to resemble the blue-brown back of this monster of the forest. My caravan had quite an argument with me here, as to whether we should make the terekeza on this day or on the next. The majority was of the opinion that the next day would be the best for a terekeza; but I, being the "bana," consulting my own interests, insisted, not without a flourish or two of my whip, that the terekeza should be made on this day.

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