“ Shauri.” In East Africa particularly shauris
are much in vogue. Precipitate, energetic action
is dreaded. “ Poli, p o li!” or “ G en tly !” is the
warning word o f caution given.
T h e chiefs arranged themselves in a semi-circle
on the d a y o f the shauri, and I sat a la T urque
fronting them. “ What is it, my friends? Speak
yo u r minds.” T h e y hummed and hawed, looked
at one another, as i f on their neighbours’ faces
th e y might discover the purport o f their coming,
but, all hesitating to begin, finally broke down
in a loud laugh.
Manwa Sera, always grave, unless hit dexterously
with a joke, hereupon affected anger, and
said, “ You speak, son o f Safeni; verily we act
like children! W ill the master eat us?”
Wadi, son o f Safeni, thus encouraged to perform
the spokesman’s duty, hesitates ex ac tly
two seconds, and then ventures with diplomatic
blandness and graciosity. “ W e have come,
master, with words. Listen. It is well we
should know every step before we leap. A
traveller journeys not without knowing whither
he wanders. W e have come to ascertain what
lands y o u are bound for.”
Imitating the son o f Safeni’s gracious blandness,
and his low tone o f voice, as though the
information about to be imparted to the intensel
y interested and e ag e rly listening group were
to o important to speak it loud, I described in
brief outline the prospective journey, in broken
Kiswahili. A s country after country was mentioned
o f which they had hitherto but vague
ideas, and river after river, lake after lake named,
all o f which I hoped with their trusty aid to
explore carefully, various ejaculations expressive
of wonder and jo y , mixed with a little alarm,
broke from their lips, but when I concluded,
each o f the group drew a long breath, and almost
simultaneously they uttered admiringly,
“ A h , fellows, this is a journey worthy to be
called a journey!”
“ But, master,” said th ey , after recovering
themselves, “ this long journey will take years
to travel— -six, nine, or ten years.” “ Nonsense,”
I replied. “ S ix , nine, or ten years! What can
yo u be thinking of? It takes the Arabs nearly
three years to reach Ujiji, it is true, but* i f yo u
remember, I was but sixteen months from Zanzibar
to Ujiji and back. Is is not so ? ” “ A y ,
true,” they answered. “ V e r y w'ell, and I assure
yo u I have not come to live in Africa. I have
come simply to see those rivers and lakes, and
after I have seen them to return home.” “ Ah,
but y o u know the old master, Livingstone,” rejoined
Hamoidah, who had followed the veteran
traveller nearly eight years, “ said he was only
going for two years, and yo u know that he
never came back, but died there.” “ Th a t is true
enough, but i f I were quick on the first journey,