THE GOOD SAMARITAN. 687 



the doctor had left of his old stock could hardly suffice to buy 

 food for himself and his few men a single month. He saw 

 nothing but starvation or absolute dependence on the Arabs in 

 store for him ; and there was no redress. The man who had re- 

 duced him to this extremity by his outrageous dishonesty even 

 presumed to offer his welcome with extended hand, and when 

 his hand was refused complained of being badly treated ! The 

 destitution was almost unbearable. Where was the good 

 Samaritan whose commission it might be to relieve him ? God 

 could have answered that question ! 



Mr. Stanley had left Mrera on the 17th. His caravan 

 was the picture of confidence and contentment again, all squab- 

 bling had ceased. Bombay had forgotten his rebellion, the 

 powerful Kirangozi was ready to embrace his captain, and Mab- 

 ruki of Unyanyembe vowed he could smell the fish of Tangan- 

 yika. They had passed through the thin forests adorned with 

 myriads of marvellous ant-hills, those wonderful specimens of 

 engineering talent and architectural capacity, those cunningly 

 contrived, model cities, with which the tiny denizens of African 

 wilds astonish the traveller continually ; and on across plains 

 dotted with artificial-looking cones and flat-topped, isolated 

 mountains, and through marshy ravines where every unlucky 

 step insured a bath in Stygian ooze — the various scenes of 

 southern Ukonongo. Then on through the territory so lately 

 abandoned by the dreaded Wazavira. And on that 23d day of 

 October, that seemed the darkest of all the days to Dr. Living- 

 stone, he was on the banks of the " beautiful stream of Mtambo," 



" Where the thorny brake and thicket 

 Densely fill the interspace 

 Of the trees, through whose thick branches 

 Never sunshine lights the place " — 



the abode of lions and leopards and elephants and wild boars. 

 One of those splendid parks of the wilderness where majestic 

 forests and jungles, and lawn-like glades, and reedy brakes and 

 perilous chasms all unite to form that climax of wildness and 

 beauty, " the hunter's paradise." It was just the place to arouse 

 all the Nimrod spirit a man possesses, and the two days of rest 

 were turned to good account by Mr. Stanley in testing the virtue 

 of his fine rifles on the masters of the domain. 



