HIS FAVOURITE WATERING-PLACE. 149 



closely packed around him, lay Marenga, very drunk. 

 He gave us a hearty welcome, shaking us long 

 and violently by the hands. He is a man about six 

 feet in height, and stout, with a debauched and 

 bloated appearance, and covered with scurvy. Hav- 

 ing arranged a mat for us, and seeing that we were 

 comfortable, Marenga's first question was, '^ Where is 

 your brother that , was here last year ?" He was 

 told that we had come to look for him, and should be 

 obliged if he would tell us all he knew about him. 

 He said he would, but he must have some pombe 

 first, as he had much to tell. Having changed the 

 wife against whom he was leaning for another, ap- 

 parently a stronger one, a large pot of pombe was 

 brought to him, and held by one of his wives, who 

 sat by his side while he drank the beer through a 

 bamboo about one foot and a half long. Invariably, 

 whenever he took a pull, which was generally a long 

 one, one or other of his forty wives tickled his chest 

 and stomach, ceasing the operation only when he took 

 the bamboo from his mouth. 



" I have come," said he, " down here with a few 

 of my wives only for a couple of moons for change of 

 air. The Nyassa agrees with me ; these people all 

 round here belong to me, but my principal residence 

 is a day's journey from here. This," said he, pointing 

 to a large hut within the enclosure — ^' this is mine, 

 and those other huts belong to my wives." This was 

 his favourite watering-place, and he had only brought 

 a feiv of his wives to keep him company. 



He now took another pull of the pombe, and having 

 had one more tickle, commenced his story the liquor 



