GHOST OF AN ADVENTURE. 



71 



forward as before. As I passed, the Wazaramo stood 

 under a tree to gaze. I could not but admire the 

 athletic and statuesque figures of the young warriors 

 and their martial attitude, grasping in one hand their 

 full-sized bows, and in the other sheaths of grinded 

 arrows, whose black barbs and necks showed a fresh 

 layer of poison. 



At Tun da, " the fruit," so called from its principal 

 want, after a night passed amidst the rank vegetation, 

 and Avithin the malarious influence of the river, I arose 

 weak and depressed, with aching head, burning eyes, 

 and throbbing extremities. The new life, the alterna- 

 tions of damp heat and wet cold, the useless fatigue of 

 walking, the sorry labour of waiting and re-loading the 

 asses, the exposure to sun and dew, and last, but not least, 

 of morbific influences, the wear and tear of mind at the 

 prospect of imminent failure, all were beginning to tell 

 heavily upon me. My companion had shaken off his 

 preliminary symptoms, but Said bin Salim, attacked 

 during the rainy gusty night by a severe Mkunguru or 

 seasoning-fever, begged hard for a halt at Tunda — 

 only for a day- — only for half a day — only for an 

 hour. Even this was refused. I feared that Tunda 

 might prove fatal to us. Said bin Salim was mounted 

 upon an ass, which compelled us to a weary trudge of 

 two hours. The animals were laden with difficulty ; 

 they had begun to show a predilection for lying down. 

 The footpath, crossing a deep nullah, spanned a pesti- 

 lential expanse of spear-grass, and a cane, called from 

 its appearance Gugu-mbua, or the wild sugar plant, 

 with huge calabashes and natural clearings in the 

 jungle, where large game appeared. After a short march 

 I saw the red flag of the vanguard stationary, and 

 turning a sharp corner found the caravan halted in 



