416 
AFRICA AND ITS EXPLORATION. 
wanted to see one white man, lie began to count on his 
lingers. 
“ Mees—dead. Mees—dead ! ” until he had counted 
seven ; and then he ended up : “ All dead. Veree seek 
contry. No good white man—all die. All gone Band- 
awe.” With this information he pointed across the lake. 
The story was sorrowful enough, but still the manner 
in which it was told was irresistibly droll. 
Not for a moment since I put my foot upon the shore 
had I been idle. I had walked through the station and 
ransacked every house. Through the kind help of the 
man with the red umbrella, I had burglariously effected 
an entrance into the well-secured house, which had evi¬ 
dently been used for keeping stores, and on entering had 
discovered various articles such as anchors, hedges, and 
chains. Had I been superstitious, the emblem of security 
might have been encouraging. Dust lay thick upon the 
empty shelves, and substantial cobwebs festooned the 
dingy ceilings. Boxes piled in the corner told only of 
the good things they had at some time contained. 
Two rewards of my diligent and painstaking search 
were a small tin of biscuits and about eight yards of 
strong pink calico. 
I had almost forgotten that in the room adjoining that 
which I occupied, and underneath a rudely-made bier, 
beside which no doubt many a sorrowful burial-service 
had been said, I found the small piece of candle which 
was now dickering its last light as I meditated upon the 
rough experiences of the day. 
When the dim light was totally extinguished my dis¬ 
comfort reached a climax. I felt as though I was sitting 
in a sepulchre. A yellow dag of sickness or the black 
dag of death would have represented the situation, which 
was one of sickness, desertion, desolation, and death. 
The Angoni, when they saw that no whites were to be 
found, said : 
“ The old men at Pantumbo spoke truth : it was the 
white man who lied.” 
Surrounded as they were by their natural enemies, it 
would have been absurd to expect them to stop in this 
