HOW TO DEAL WITH DESERTERS. 421 



cattle he had captured, and the people of Kwihara and Tabora breathed freer. 

 Here is a sketch of a morning at Unyanyembe, in which we are introduced to a 

 native who was destined to excite a large amount of interest in England : — 



"In the early morning, generally about 5.30 a.m., I begin to stir the 

 soldiers up, sometimes with a . long bamboo ; for you know they are such 

 hard sleepers, they require a good deal of poking. Bombay has his orders 

 given him ; and Ferajji, the cook, who has long ago been warned by 

 the noise I make when I rouse up, is told in unmistakable tones to bring 

 ' chai ' (tea). For I am like an old woman ; I love tea very much, and can 

 take a quart and a half without any inconvenience. Kululu, a boy of seven, 

 all the way from Cazembe's country, is my waiter and chief butler. 

 He understands my ways and mode of hie exactly. Some weeks ago he 

 ousted Sehm from the post of chief butler by skill and smartness. Selim, 

 the Arab boy, cannot wait at table. Kululu, young antelope, is frisky. 

 I have but to express a wish, and it is gratified. He is a perfect Mercury, 

 though a marvellously black one. Tea over, Kululu cleans the dishes, and 

 retires under the kitchen shed, where, if I have a curiosity to know what he 

 is doing, he may be seen with his tongue in the tea-cup licking up the sugar 

 that was left in it, and looking very much as if he would like to eat the cup 

 for the sake of the divine element it has so often contained. 



" And now I am going to say farewell to Unyanyembe for a while. 

 I shall never help an Arab again. He is no fighting man ; or, I should say, 

 does not know how to fight, but knows personally how to die. They will not 

 conquer Mirambo within a year, and I cannot stop to see that play out. 

 There is a good old man waiting for me somewhere, and that impels me on. 

 There is a journal far off that expects me to do my duty, and I must do it. 

 Good-bye. I am off the day after to-morrow for Ujiji, then perhaps to the 

 Congo river." Clearly here was a man who was not to be turned aside from 

 his purpose on small or even great occasions. He had been sent to find 

 Livingstone, and find him he had determined upon, if he was alive. 



Captains Speke and Grant spent a considerable time in the neighbourhood 

 of Kwihara. The account of the latter forms an interesting pendant to Mr. 

 Stanley's narrative : — 



"The province of Unyanyembe has nearly four months of rain, commenc- 

 ing in the end of November, and winding up with the greatest fall in Febru- 

 ary. As soon as the soil of sand, or black, spongy mould, has softened, the 

 seed is dropped, and by the 1st of February all is green as an emerald. The 

 young rice has to struggle for fifteen days against the depredations of a small, 

 black caterpillar, green underneath. It is a precarious time for the agricultu- 

 rist, for if rain does not fall, the crop is lost, being eaten close by this insect. 

 Women walk in the fields, with small hand-picks, loosening the soil, clearing 

 it of weeds and worms. There is only one crop in the year, and all the cereals 



