washed, massive houses, which rise to two and
three stories above our heads. The residences
o f the European merchants and the officials I
here stand side b y side, and at the tall door- I
w a y o f each sits the porter— as comfortable as I
his circumstances will permit. A s we pass on, I
we g e t short views o f the bay, and then plunge I
again into the lane until we come in view of I
the worm-eaten old fort, Crumbling fast into I
disuse and demolition. Years ago, behind it, I I
saw a market where some slaves were being I
sold. Happily there is no such market now.
W e presently catch sight, on our right, o f the I
entrance to the fort at which sit on guard, a I
few lazy Baluchis and dingy-looking Arabs. On I
our left is the saluting b attery , which does I
frequent service for the ignition o f much powder, I
an antique mode o f exchanging compliments I
with ships o f war, and o f paying respect t o j
government officials. T h e custom-sheds are
close b y , and directly in front o f us rises the
lo fty house and harem o f Prince Barghash. It
is a respectable-looking building o f the Arab
architecture which finds favour at Muscat, three
stories high and whitewashed— as all houses
here appear to be. It is connected b y a covered
g an gw ay , about 30 feet above our heads, with
a large house on the opposite side o f the lane,!
and possesses an ambitious doorway raised 3
feet above the street, and reached b y four or
five broad and circular steps. Within the lower
hall are some soldiers o f the same pattern as
those at the fort, armed with the Henry-Martini
rifle, or matchlock, sword, and targe. A v e ry
short time takes us into a still narrower lane,
where the whitewash is not so white as at
Shangani, the European quarter. W e are in the
neighbourhood o f Melindi now, where the
European who has not been able to locate himself
at Shangani is obliged to put up with
neighbours o f East Indian race or Arabs. Past
and beyond Melindi is a medley o f tall white
houses and low sheds, where wealth and squalor
jostle side b y side, and then we find ourselves at
the bridge over the inlet o f Malagash, which
extends from the b a y up to Mnazi-Moya, or the
One Cocoa-nut, behind Shangani. T h e banks
on either side are in view as we pass over the
bridge, and we note a dense mass o f sheds and
poor buildings, amid hills o f garbage and heaps
o f refuse, and numbers o f half naked negroes,
or people in white clothes, giving the whole an
appearance somewhat resembling the more sordid
village o f Boulak, near Cairo.
Having crossed the bridge from Melindi, we
are in what is v e ry appropriately termed Ngambu,
or “ t’other side.” T h e street is wide, but the
quarter is more squalid. It is here we find the
Wangwana, or Freedmen, o f Zanzibar, whose
services the explorer will require as escort on