A DREADFUL MURDER. 577 



nothing to do with it, but felt very thankful that he had been 

 detained, and had not, with his few attendants, fallen into the 

 hands of the justly infuriated Babemba. The attack was re- 

 newed, and some went out to them, fighting till noon : when a 

 man was killed and not carried off, the Wanyamwezi brought 

 his head and put it on a pole on the stockade — six heads were 

 thus placed. A fine young man was caught and brought in by 

 the Wanyamwezi : one stabbed him behind, another cut his 

 forehead with an axe. Livingstone called in vain to them not 

 to kill him. As a last appeal, the poor fellow cried piteously 

 to the crowd surrounding him, " Don't kill me ! and I will take 

 you to where the women are." " You lie," said his enemies, 

 " you intend to take us where we may be shot by your friends," 

 and they killed him. The doctor protested loudly against the 

 cruelty and wickedness of the act, but his voice was powerless 

 against the rage of the Wanyamwezi. 



He felt that the war lay at the door of Mohamad Bogharib, 

 and he did not hesitate to tell him that he considered him en- 

 tirely in fault, and did all he could to move him to Conciliatory 

 measures. But an Arab trader only makes admission of wrong 

 when it cannot be possibly avoided, and particularly is it diffi- 

 cult to persuade one to such measures as call for the relinquishing 

 aught of their gains. Dreadful as were the open hostilities which 

 he was compelled to witness, there were things occurring every 

 day — in the natural every-day life of the strange company, 

 ordinary occurrences in the trader's camp — which harrowed his 

 soul more severely than the violence of war, that he could think 

 of as extraordinary while the others were the common inevitable 

 horrors of the inhuman business. 



But " at last he made a start for Ujiji with the Arabs on the 

 11th of December — Mohamad and his friends, a gang of Wan- 

 yamwezi, and long lines of slaves bound together by their heavy 

 yokes. Some were burdened with ivory, others with copper and 

 food for the journey, while hope and fear and misery and villany 

 could be read off on the various countenances as they passed in 

 a long line out of the country, like a huge serpent dragging its 

 accursed folds away from the victim it has paralyzed with its 

 fangs." 



It required only a short march to bring them to the Lokinda, 



