THE VILLAGE. 



157 



East Africa, and throughout the Moslem world — 

 he is at once delivered over to the haunting Jinns. 

 The Baloch never pass the place without casting 

 a handful of leaves, a bullet, or a few grains of 

 powder by way of humble heave-offering into the 

 stream. Our guide told us, in accents of awe, 

 how a Suri Arab, doubtless tainted mth Wahhabi 

 heresy, had expressed an opinion that this Pir 

 had been a mere mortal, but little better, if at all 

 better, than his own sinful self ; how the shallow 

 scoffer's ship was wrecked within the year, and 

 how he passed through water into the fire of 

 Jehannum. Prohatum est — defend us, Allah ! from 

 the sins of Reason. 



We passed three small Arab timber-craft 

 w^hich were laying in a cargo of red and white 

 mangrove trunks, and in many places floated 

 small rafts of palm-fronds ready to be guided 

 down-stream. At sunset the tide, running like 

 a mill-race, compelled our crew to pole up a little 

 inlet near Pombui or Klpombui, a village on the 

 left bank, well stockaded with split areca trunks. 

 The people who are subject to Zanzibar, and are 

 claimed by Kimwere, flocked out to welcome 

 their strangers, laid down a bridge of cocoa-ribs, 

 brought chairs, and offered a dish of small green 

 mangoes, here a great luxury. We sat under a tree 



