304 Wanderings in Eastern Africa, 
An old man, who assumed very strange and myste- 
rious airs, made his appearance in the afternoon. He 
was wrinkled with age, clothed in the veriest rags, and 
covered with charms. I suspected him to be a Simon 
Magus, a priest of Satan, a Mganga ; and such I found 
him to be. He passed and repassed the tent, eyeing 
me askance, as if half afraid of me, and yet anxious to 
see as much of me as possible. Old man," I thought, 
I shall have to cross swords with you," but he care- 
fully kept aloof from me that day. The people brought 
me presents of Indian corn, beans, etc. ; Abe Mlongo 
gave me a goat, and another man brought a bowl of 
''sima," that is, boiled Indian-corn flour, a kind of 
pudding, and very clean, white, good, substantial food 
it is. 
During the whole of the next day crowds gathered 
about and pressed themselves upon us. Some of the 
people refused to leave me for a single moment ; I 
could not get rid of them. One said, *^ I am hungry, 
but I cannot go another, " I am not satisfied with 
looking at this man, and never shall be another, "I 
have no wish but to remain here." They compared 
the Mzungu with the Wasuahili, of course greatly to 
the advantage of the former. " Look at this man," 
they exclaimed ; " he has everything, and is able to do 
everything. Look at him himself; at his hair, his 
nose, his beard, his everything ! What eyes ! how 
they shine ! I would I were a Mzungu ! He has the 
skin of a new-born babe !" etc., etc. This kind of thing 
runs on ad nauseain ; but it must be borne. It is 
better than abuse and opposition, though it lacks their 
piquancy and interest. 
The old Mkamba of yesterday gave me much of 
