that they were spies sent by Chikuse, to see what I was
about. The suspicious mind of the king would be soothed
when he heard positively of the final departure of the white
mystery.
All’s well that ends well! Now it seemed that progress
would be all downhill or down-stream.
The steamer could not take us very far on account of the
cataracts separating the Upper from the Lower Shire. As
we proceeded the wind freshened until it was blowing half
a gale, compelling us to run for shelter in the lee of the
land, where, just before night time, the little vessel was
anchored in a snug bay close to a mountain that had a
history.
Eiding at anchor that night the small craft tugged and
jerked as though she would part her cable. The cabin, a
sort of deck shed at the stern, was a tight fit for four ; the
berths on each side being occupied by Fredericks and
Harkess, while M. Giraud and myself made our beds as comfortable
as possible on the benches beside the small table.
Eight in front of the cabin door was the engine and boiler,
the fore part of the launch being used for cargo, such as
ivory, of which there was a fair quantity. Lying like logs
upon the deck were Giraud’s six Wangwana, or Zanzibar
men, and three black sailors.
There was an unwonted attractiveness inside the cabin,
for supper was ready, and the warm light of the oil-lamp
swinging from the ceiling gave the little snuggery an air
of comfort, and even luxuriousness. Tin cups, brimming
with hot tea, steamed up, perfuming the atmosphere with a
welcome aroma that told of plenty, while the pile of bread
and the pot of Moir’s jam gave the rude table quite a
homelike appearance; to my long unaccustomed eyes the
turn-out seemed a veritable feast. Bodily ailments, however,,
precluded me from sharing in the good things; so I
looked on and listened to the story of the mountain which
reared its. form above the bay where we had found shelter
from, the violence of the storm.
Like most African tales in which Englishmen, are concerned,
it was not without its load of disaster and its dead
man. On the cone-shaped mountain, covered with loose
broken slabs of rock and wild scrub bushes, ah Englishman
while hunting baboons wounded one, and coming to close
quarters struck out at it with the butt of his gun, experiencing
the inevitable result, of course: the gun went
off, and he fell dead upon the spot.
One story.led to another, and so on, in the usual way;
but while listening, I suddenly remembered that on leaving
the Diamond Fields in South Africa, a young man ran up
to the stage, and said to me—
“ Should you ever meet any one named B in your
travels, remember me in speaking to him. He is a great
friend.”
I asked Harkess if he had heard of such a man.
“ Oh ! ” was the answer, “ poor B was eaten by a
crocodile not long ago, while bathing in a river near the
north end of the lake. He was with Captain P——, the
elephant hunte r; but before assistance could be given,
the monster had carried him to the middle of the water,
all the timé holding him up to the view of his horrified
friends. Then the brute dived under the water with his
prey, and nothing more was seen.”
Inquiring about the white sails which now and again
at Livingstonia gave me so many false hopes when -they
hove into view in the horizon, I was told that in all probability
they belonged to large dhows sailing between
Makinjira’s and Mpemba’s for war 1purposes. On getting