men, Francis John and Edward Po co ck and
Frederick Barker, and my five dogs, and in
stowing safely on shore the y aw l Wave, bought
for me at Yarmouth b y Mr. Edwin Arnold, the
g ig , and the tons o f good s , provisions, and
stores I had brought.
Life at Zanzibar is a busy one to the intending
explorer. Time flies rapidly, and each moment
o f daylight must b e employed in the
selection and purchase o f the various kinds of
cloth, beads, and wire, in demand b y the different
tribes o f the mainland through whose countries
he purposes journeying. Strong, half naked
porters come in with great bales o f unbleached
cottons, striped and coloured fabrics, handkerchiefs
and red caps, bags o f blue, green, red, white
and amber-coloured beads small and large, round
and oval, and coils upon coils o f thick brass wire.
These have to be inspected, assorted, arranged,
and numbered separately, have to be packed in
portable bales, sacks, or packages, or b o x ed according
to their character and value. The house-
floors are littered with cas t-off wrappings and
covers, box-lids, and a medley o f rejected paper,
cloth, zinc covers and broken boards, sawdust and
other debris. Porters and servants and masters,
employes and employers, pass backwards and
forwards, to and fro, amid all this litter, roll
bales over, or tumble about boxes; and a rending
o f cloth or paper, clattering o f hammers,
demands for the marking pots, or the number
o f bale and box, with quick, hurried breathing
and shouting, are heard from early morning until
night.
Towards evening, after such a glaring day o f
glaring heat and busy toil, comes weariness:
the arm-chair is sought, and the pipe or cigar
with a cup o f tea rounds o ff the eventful hours.
Or, as sometimes the case would be, we would
strike work early, and after a’ wholesome dinner
K a t 4.30 P.M. would saddle our horses and ride
» o u t into the interior o f the island, returning
It-during the short twilight. Or w e would take
» th e well-known path to Mnazi-Moya— the One
»Cocoa-nut T re e , where it stands weird and
■ sentinel-like over humble tombs on the crest of
B a n ancient beach behind Shangani Point. Or,
■as the last and only resource left to a contem-
Wplative and studious mind, w e would take our
“ easy-chairs on the flat roof, where the cowhides
the merchant are poisoned and dried, and,
fwith our feet elevated above our heads, watch
the night coming.
If we take our ride, in a few minutes we
may note, at the pleasantest hour, those local
features which, with the thermometer at 950 Fahr.,
might have been a dangerous pleasure, or, at
•any rate, disagreeable. Through a narrow,
crooked, plastered lane, our horses’ feet clatterin
g noisily as w e go, we ride b y the tall, white