102 
THE KILIMANJARO EXT EDITION. 
ever anticipate an introduction to a temporal or 
spiritual magnate with more anxiety than my first 
interview with the Sultan of Mo si. I had formed an 
exaggerated estimate of his power for good and evil, 
and fancied that the fate of my expedition lay in his 
sable hands. Nor was I alone in this impression, for 
the men of my caravan held Mandara in excessive awe 
and dread, and the rabble of Rabai, who were already 
grovelling before him, would have cut my throat 
cheerfully if that had been pleasing to the great chief¬ 
tain, in whose power they were. To do Mandara 
honour—for I was told by my men that he was very 
sensitive as to appearances, and measured a man by 
his cloth—I had donned a white shirt with a collar in 
which some little starch remained, a smart coat, and 
patent leather boots, and this attire, although perhaps 
becoming, was uncomfortable at the close of a long, 
hot march, when I wished to unbend in easy costume. 
I therefore hoped that the ordeal might soon be over. 
Presently, whilst I was fidgeting about inside my tent, 
getting rather tired of the intense curiosity I aroused 
among the simple country-folk, who thronged the pre¬ 
cincts of my camp and were not ashamed, like the 
soldiers, to express their awe and surprise, I heard a 
distant shouting, while loud cries and complaints arose 
nearer and nearer at hand, and then were seen the 
civilian subjects of Mandara fleeing in all directions, 
and being vigorously chased from the scene by a 
number of lithe young men perfectly nude, and armed 
with long and supple wands. These were the police 
of Mosi, and their object was to disperse the vulgar 
herd from the precincts of royalty, their sovereign 
being then on his way to pay a visit to the white 
stranger. Kiongwe soon entered my tent, and said 
