Title: My Kalulu, Prince, King and Slave - A Story of Central Africa
Author: Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
Language: English
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My Kalulu, Prince, King and Slave, by Henry M. Stanley.

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MY KALULU, PRINCE, KING AND SLAVE, BY HENRY M. STANLEY.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE BEAUTIFUL AMINA, SHEIKH AMER'S WIFE--ARABS IN CONSULTATION--THE
COUNTRY OF RUA--BEAUTIFUL WOMEN OF RUA--THE CONSUL'S SON--SELIM AND ISA
ARE PERMITTED TO JOIN THE EXPEDITION--LUDHA DAMHA OFFERS TO LEND MONEY--
SELIM TELLS HIS MOTHER--SELIM'S MANLINESS AROUSED--SELIM ARGUES WITH HIS
MOTHER--THE EXPEDITION SETS SAIL FOR BAGAMOYO.

About four miles north of the city of Zanzibar, and about half a mile
removed from a beautiful bay, lived, not many years ago, surrounded by
his kinsmen and friends, a noble Arab of the tribe of Beni-Hassan,--
Sheikh Amer bin Osman.  [Amer bin Osman means, Amer, son of Osman.]

Sheikh Amer was a noble by descent and untarnished blood from a long
line of illustrious Arab ancestry; he was noble in disposition, noble in
his large liberal charity, and noble in his treatment of his numerous
black dependents.

Amer's wife--his favourite wife--was the sweet gazelle-eyed daughter of
Othman bin Ghees, of the tribe of the Beni-Abbas.  She was her husband's
counterpart in disposition and temper, and was qualified to reign queen
of his heart and harem for numerous other virtues.

Though few Arabs spoke of her in presence of her husband, or asked about
her health or well-being--as it is contrary to the custom of the Arabs--
still the friends of Amer knew well what transpired under his roof.  The
faithful slaves of Amer never omitted an opportunity to declare the
goodness and many virtues of Amina, Amer's wife.

A young European, chancing to ride on one of Prince Majid's horses by
the estate of Amer, one afternoon, casually obtained a glance at the
sweet face of Amina, which made such an impression on his mind that he
continually dwelt upon it as on a happy dream.  Some of this young
European's phrases deserve to be repeated in justice to the Arab lady
whom he so admired.  "She was the most beautiful woman my eyes ever
rested upon.  I felt a shock of admiration as I caught that one short
view of her face.  I felt a keen regret that I could see no more of the
exquisite features of her extraordinary face.  If I were a painter, I
know I should be for ever endeavouring to preserve a trace of the divine
beauty of that Arab woman; my brush would ever hover about the eyes in a
vain hope that I could transmit to canvas the marvellously limpid, yet
glowing look of her eyes, or near the finely chiselled lips, tinting
them with the rubiest of colours, or ever trying to imitate the pure
complexion, yet always despairing to approach the perfection, one glance
indelibly fixed on my memory."

Around Amer's large roomy mansion grew a grove of orange and mangoe
trees.  The fields of his estate numbered many acres, well-tilled and
planted with cinnamon, cloves, oranges, mangoes, pomegranates, guavas,
and numerous other fruit-trees; they produced also every variety of
vegetable and grain known on the Island of Zanzibar.  By dint of labour,
and personal exertion, and superintendence of the proprietor the estate
was considered to be one of the most flourishing on the island.  A
sacrifice of a large amount of ready money had so improved and
embellished the mansion, that the oldest inhabitant who remembered
Osman, Amer's father, hardly recognised it as the house of Osman.  A
large marble courtyard, in the centre of which stood a handsome fountain
of the same costly stone, was one of the many additions made to the
house by Amer after the demise of his father.  Marble troughs outside
the mansion had also been erected for the use of the Moslemised slaves,
that they might wash their feet and hands before attending the prayers
in the mesdjid [Chapel or church] of the mansion, which were rigidly
observed with all the ceremonies usual in Moslem temples.

Amer, the son of Osman, had but one son, called Selim, by his favourite
wife Amina.  Not less dear to him was this boy than was his wife.  In
the boy's handsome features, large glowing black eyes, and clear
complexion he saw what he had received from his lovely mother, and in
the boy's graceful vigorous form he recognised himself, when at his age
he looked up to his father Osman as the paragon of all men upon earth.

Selim's age, when this story begins, was a few months over fifteen; and
it is at the usual evening symposium, which takes place near the even
sloping beach of the little bay in front of Amer's mansion, that we are
first introduced to one of the heroes of our story.

It is near sunset, and a group composed of Amer bin Osman, Khamis bin
Abdullah--a wealthy African trader just returned from the interior of
Africa, with an immense number of ivory tusks and slaves--Sheikh
Mohammed, a native of Zanzibar, a neighbour and kinsman of Amer; Sheikh
Thani, son of Mussoud, an experienced old trader in Africa; Sheikh
Mussoud, son of Abdullah, a portly, fine-looking Arab of Muscat; Sheikhs
Hamdan and Amran, also natives of Zanzibar, though pure-blooded Arabs--
were seated on fine Persian carpets placed on the beach, near enough to
the pretty little wavelets which were rolled by the evening zephyrs up
the snowy sand to hear distinctly their music, but still far enough from
them to avoid any dampness.

Close to this group of elderly and noble-looking Arabs was another
consisting of young people who were the sons or near relatives of each
of the Arabs above-mentioned.  There were Suleiman and Soud, nephews of
Amer bin Osman, gaudily-dressed youths; there was Isa, a tall
dark-coloured boy, son of Sheikh Thani; there were Abdullah and Mussoud,
two boys of fourteen and twelve years respectively, sons of Sheikh
Mohammed, whose complexions were as purely white as black-eyed
descendants of Ishmael can well be; and lastly, there was the beloved
son of Amer, son of Osman--Selim, whose appearance at once challenged
attention from his frank, ingenuous, honest face, his clear complexion,
his beautiful eyes, and the promise which his well-formed graceful
figure gave of a perfect manhood in the future.

Selim was dressed in a short jacket of fine crimson cloth braided with
gold, a snowy white muslin disdasheh, or shirt, reaching below the
knees, bound around the waist by a rich Muscat sohari or check.  On his
head he wore a gold-tasselled red fez, folded around by a costly turban,
which enhanced the appearance of the handsome face beneath it.

While all eyes are directed west at the dark-blue loom of the African
continent away many miles beyond the greyish-green waters of the sea of
Zanzibar, Amer, son of Osman, remarks to his friends in a musing tone:

"I have sat here, close to my own mangoes, almost every evening for the
last twenty years looking towards that dark line of land, and always
wishing to go nearer to it, to see for myself the land where all the
ivory and slaves that the Arab traders bring to Zanzibar come from."

Directing his eyes towards Khamis bin Abdullah, Amer continued:

"And never has the desire to leave my house and travel to Africa been so
strong as this evening, when thou, Sheikh informest me that thou hast
brought with thee 600 slaves and 800 frasilah [a frasilah is equivalent
to 35 pounds in weight] of ivory from Ufipas and Marungu.  It is
wonderful!  Wallahi!  Five hundred slaves if they are tolerably healthy
are worth at least 10,000 dollars, and 800 frasilah of ivory are worth,
at 50 dollars the frasilah, 40,000 dollars, nearly half a lakh of rupees
altogether, and all this thou hast collected in five years' travels.
Wallahi! it is wonderful!  By the Prophet!--blessed be his name--I must
see the land for myself.  I shall see it, please God!" and as he
finished speaking he began to wipe his brow violently, a sign with him
that he was excited and determined.

"What I have spoken is God's truth," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "and
Allah knows it.  But there are many more wonderful countries than
Marungu and Ufipa.  Rua, several days further toward the setting of the
sun, is a great country, and few Arabs have been there yet.  Sayd, the
son of Habib, has been to Rua, and much further; he has been across to
the sea of the setting sun, and has married a wife from among the white
people who live at San Paul de Loanda.  Sayd is so great a traveller, I
should fear to say what land he has not seen.  Mashallah!  Sayd, I
believe, has seen all lands and all peoples.  He says that ivory is used
in Rua by the Pagans as we use wooden stanchions or posts to support the
eaves of our houses, that ivory holds their huts up, and he believes
great stores of it are known to the savages, where some of their great
hunters have killed a large number of elephants, and have left the ivory
to rot, not knowing how valuable it is, or where a great herd of
elephants have perished from thirst or disease.  However the knowledge
came to these people, or whatever the cause which left such a store of
ivory in that country, Sayd, the son of Habib, is certain that there is
an unlimited quantity of this precious stuff in Rua, and that we can
make ourselves richer than Prince Majid, our Sultan, if we go in time,
before the report is common among the Arabs.  What money I have made
this time on my last trip is so small, compared to what I might have
realised, that I mean to try my fortune again in Africa shortly,
Inshallah!--please God!  I intend going to Rua, and if thou, Amer bin
Osman, hast a mind to accompany me, I promise thee that thou wilt not
repent it."

"Amer bin Osman," replied Amer, "goes not back on his word.  By my
beard, I have said I shall go, and, if it be God's will, I shall be
ready for thee when thou goest.  But tell us, son of Abdullah, what of
the Pagans of Rua, and those lands near the Great Lakes?  Do they make
good slaves, and do they sell well in our market?  Yet I need hardly ask
thee, for I have two men whom I purchased when young, about twenty years
ago, who I believe are more faithful than any slave born in my house."

"Good slaves!" echoed Khamis.  "Thou hast said it.  Finer people are not
to be found, from Masr to Kilwa, than those of Rua and the lands
adjoining.  And clever slaves, too!  Those Pagans make the best spears,
and swords, and daggers found in Africa.  Indeed, some of their work
would shame that of our best Zanzibar artificers.  Near a place called
Kitanga--where that is I don't know, but Sayd, the son of Habib, can
tell--there is a hill almost entirely of pure copper, and from this hill
the people get vast quantities of copper, which they work into beautiful
bracelets, armlets, anklets, and such things.  Nothing to be seen in
Muscat even can equal the work the son of Habib has witnessed."

"Mashallah!" cried Amer, delighted; "thou makest me more and more
anxious to go to the strange land.  A hill of copper!--pure copper!  The
Pagans must really be a fine people, and rich, too.  If it were only
possible to catch two or three hundred slaves of the kind thou speakest
of, I might be able to laugh in the face of that dog of a Banyan Bamji,
and old Ludha Damha himself could not hold his head higher than I could
then.  I owe the dogs a turn, for the heavy usury they exacted of me
when I needed much ready money to make my courtyard and fountains.  But
the women, noble Khamis, thou hast said nothing of them.  Tell us what
kind of women are seen in those rich lands."

"Ah, yes, do tell us of the women," chimed in two or three others, who
had not yet spoken.

"I have seen but one of the women of Rua," answered Khamis, "and she was
the wife of the son of Sayd, the son of Habib, a tall, lithesome girl of
sixteen years or so.  Her lower limbs were as clean and well-made as
those of an antelope.  She walked like the daughter of a chief.  Her
eyes were like two deep wells of shining moving water.  Her face was
like the moon, in colour and form.  Oh! the colour was almost as clear
and light as thy son Selim's, Amer.  She was beautiful as a Peri-banou--
God be praised!"

"Thy tongue runs away with thee, Khamis," cried Amer, in a slightly
offended tone, "or hast thou imbibed too much of the strong drink of the
Nazarenes, for the celebration of thy late success?  Light-complexioned
women, of the colour of my son Selim's face!  Where art thou, Selim, son
of Amer, pride of the Beni-Hassan?  Thou chief's son by birth and blood,
and apple of thy father's eye!  Come hither."

"Behold me, my father, I am here," said Selim, who had bounded lightly
to his feet, and now stood before his father, after kissing his right
hand for the affectionate terms lavished on him.

"Speak, son of Abdullah; behold, my boy, and regard his colour, which is
like unto that of rich cream.  Is he not as white as any Nazarene? and
wilt thou repeat what thou hast said about the Pagan wife, of Sayd's
son?"

"Khamis, the son of Abdullah, debauches not himself with the strong
drink of the foolish Nazarenes.  I lie not.  I said I have seen a
daughter of the Warua whom Sayd's son has taken for wife, and she is
almost as light in colour as thy son, Selim, and far lighter than the
face of the boy, Isa, son of Sheikh Thani."

"Wonderful!  Wallahi!" echoed the group.  "It is most wonderful.  We
shall all go to obtain wives from the Warua."

"Then, kinsmen and friends," cried Amer, "Khamis speaks the truth, and
speaks of wonderful things.  Is it agreed that we go to Rua with the son
of Abdullah, to get ivory, slaves, and copper, and light-coloured
wives?"

"It is," they all replied, so deeply impressed were they with what
Khamis had said.

"I am glad to hear it, my friends," said Khamis; "but ye must now agree,
before we break up, as the sun is fast setting, upon the day of
departure.  I cannot wait long, because I am nearly ready, but I am
willing to wait a few days, if ye will all promise to be ready by the
new moon, twenty-four days from this evening.  Ye must also promise to
take as many of your slaves as ye can, that we may make a strong party.
Tell me, Sheikh Amer, how many of thy people armed canst thou take with
thee?"

"Who?--I?  I can take two hundred well-armed servants, besides my two
faithful fundis, Simba and Moto, as they are called by the slaves, who
are worth an army by themselves, and--"

"Let me go, my father," cried Selim, seating himself on the carpet close
to his father's knees, and looking up to his face with eager, entreating
eyes, "I can shoot.  Thou knowest the new gun which thou didst send for
to London, in the land of the English, and which the good balyuz [Balyuz
is an Arabic word for consul, or rather ambassador] taught me how to
use.  The balyuz told me the other day that I would be able to shoot
better than he could, by-and-by.  I can shoot a bird on the wing already
with it.  Give thy consent, and let me accompany thee, father.  I will
be both good and brave, I promise thee."

"Hear the boy!" said Amer, admiringly.  "A true Bedaween could not have
spoken otherwise.  But why dost thou wish to leave thy mother, child, so
soon?"

"My mother will regret me, I know, but I am now strong and big, and it
is not good for me to remain in the harem all my life.  I must quit my
mother some time, for work which all men must do."

"And who gave thee such ideas, son Selim?  Who told thee thou wert too
big to remain with thy mother?"

"The other day I went out with Suleiman, son of Prince Majid, and the
young son of the American balyuz--I can't pronounce his name--to shoot
wild birds.  The young American boy, who is smaller than I am, and
already thinks himself a man, though he is no bigger than my hand,
laughed at me; and when I asked him why he laughed, he said to me,
`Truly, Selim, thou appearest to me to be like a little girl whose
mother bathes her in new milk every day to preserve her complexion.  I
cannot understand the spirit of an Arab boy which contents itself with
looking no further out-doors than within sight of a mother's eyes.'
These are the words he spoke to me within hearing of Suleiman, Majid's
son, who also laughed at me, while I felt my cheeks were red with shame,
they tingled so."

"Tush, boy!  What is it to thee what the thoughts of a forward Nazarene
lad are?  Thou art not of his race or kin.  But I must own to ye, my
friends," said Amer, turning to the elders, "that the youths of the
Nazarenes [Nazarene is the Arabic term for Christian] are bolder than
ours, though they do not possess higher courage or loftier spirit than
our own children.  Who would have thought that such large independence
could hide within the little body of the American balyuz's son?  That
small child cannot be twelve years old, yet he talks with the wisdom of
a man.  All the Nazarenes are wonderful people--wonderful!  Who are
stronger, richer than the Nazarenes of England?"

"Ah, but, father," said Selim; "do you not think the Nazarenes are
accursed of God, and of the prophet Mohammed--blessed be his name?  The
American boy told me the Arabs are wicked, and are accursed of God.
Said he to me that same day in hearing of the Sultan's son, as if he was
not a bit afraid of the consequences, `The Lord God makes his anger
known against the Arabs by refusing knowledge and the gifts of
understanding unto them, because they are wicked, because they go forth
into Africa with armed servants a-plenty to destroy and kill the poor
black people, and to take slaves of parents and children, whom they
bring to Zanzibar to sell for their own profit.'  Is he not an
unbeliever, father?"

"Peace, Selim; let not thy tongue utter such words against the true
believers, though they may have been said by a young dog like that.
Cast them away from thee entirely, and let not thy father hear thee
utter aught against thine own race and kindred.  To the unbelievers God
has said, `Woe unto them; they shall be the prey of the flames.'"

"But, father, thou art not offended with me?  Thou hast not yet given
thy consent to my going with thee and my kinsman."

"Dost thou know, my child, that the Pagans are fierce, that they have
great spears and knives, and will cut that slim neck of thine, and
perhaps eat thee without compunction?" asked Amer, smiling.

"I fear them not," answered Selim, tossing his head back proudly.  "When
did a son of the great tribe of Beni-Hassan show fear? and shall I, the
son of a chief of that tribe--the son of Amer bin Osman--look upon the
faces of the Pagans with fear in my heart?"

"Then thou shalt go with me, were it only for those last words.  But
fear not, Allah will care for thee," said Amer, solemnly laying his
broad hand on his son's head.

"Let us end this before the sun sets," said Khamis impatiently, watching
the descent of the sun.  "How many men canst thou take with thee, Sheikh
Thani?"

"Thani has a son--Isa," answered that worthy trader.  "Thani is poor
compared to Amer, but he can call round him fifty well-armed slaves, who
will stand by him to the death."

"That is answered well, and Isa is a likely lad, though his skin is
dark; but he has the soul of an Arab father in him.  I see we shall have
a glorious company; and thou, Mussoud?" said Khamis, to that
florid-faced chief, who was proud of his intensely black and handsome
beard, "How many canst thou muster?"

"About the same as my friend Thani," replied Mussoud, caressing his
beard.  "All my people are Wahiyow, docile, and good; and, if cornered,
brave.  They will follow me anywhere."

"Good again!" ejaculated Khamis, evidently pleased.  "And thou, Sheikh
Mohammed?" he asked of the chief so named, who had a terrible reputation
in the interior among the Wafipa and Wa-marungu, and of whom many tribes
stood in awe,--"how many of thy people wilt thou take to Africa this
time?"

"Well," said Mohammed, in a deep voice, which resembled the bellow of a
wild buffalo, "for such a grand project as this I think I can take one
hundred men from my estate; my head men can take charge of the rest with
Bashid, my brother, very well.  I shall also take these young lions--
Abdullah and Mussoud--with me, to teach them how to catch slaves and
claw them, as I have done often."

"Thanks, father," replied the grateful youths, who as soon as they had
said these words looked up slyly to Selim, who smiled appreciatingly at
his boyfriends.

"Sultan, son of Ali," said Khamis, "thou art a strong and wise man.
Wilt thou be one of us?"

Sultan, son of Ali, was a man of about fifty, or perhaps fifty-five, of
strongly-marked features, who had keen black eyes.  Strong and wise, as
Khamis bin Abdullah had said he was, indeed no one looking at him would
doubt that he was one of the best specimens of a hardy Bedaween chief
that ever came to Zanzibar.  Besides, Sultan had been an officer of high
rank in the army of Prince Thouweynee of Muscat, who had often eulogised
Sultan for his daring, obstinacy, forethought, and skill in handling his
wild cavalry.  He was still, as might be seen, in the prime of mature
manhood, which age had not deteriorated in the least.

Sultan answered Khamis readily.  "Where my dear friend Amer bin Osman
goes, I go.  Shall I remain at Zanzibar eating mangoes when Amer, my
kinsman, is in danger?  No!  Son of Abdullah, thou mayest count me of
thy party for good or for evil, and I can raise eighty slaves to
shoulder guns for this journey."

"Good, good," the Arabs said, unanimously.  "Where the stout son of Ali
goes, the road is straight and danger is not known."

"Well," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "we have now four hundred and eighty
men promised; I will take with me a hundred and fifty men with guns, and
I dare say Sheikhs Hamdan and Amram and a few other friends will bring
the force up to seven hundred.  Isa, son of Salim, Mohammed son of
Bashid, Bashid bin Suleiman, tall young men, and kinsmen to me, have
already agreed to follow my fortunes.  A large number of Arabs is always
better than a few.  I have one thing more to say before we rise to
prayers--the sun is just sinking, I see--Ludha Damha, the collector of
customs, has told me that if a strong party went with me he would let us
have any amount of ready money at 50 per cent, annual interest, which is
half the usual price he asks--the old dog!--and if any of you desire
money, go to him for your outfit, for I will speak to him to-morrow
morning and give him your names."

"That is well-spoken, by my beard," said Mohammed.  "I was thinking that
we could not raise money under 100 per cent, interest from the Banyan
usurer."

"Very well, indeed," added Amer bin Osman.  "Ludha Damha must be sure of
a speedy return to let his money go so cheap.  My mind is now perfectly
made up; and, friends, the sun has set and we must to prayers."  Saying
which Amer rose--a signal which the Arabs readily understood.

After the usual salaams, courtesies, and benedictions had been uttered,
the Arabs departed each to his own home, at a slow and dignified pace,
while Amer and his son Selim retired into the mesdjid of their own
mansion.

When Amer and Selim had ended their evening prayers, and had left the
mesdjid or church belonging to the mansion, Selim asked, pulling at his
father's robe:

"Father, I see my mother at the lattice; may I go and tell her that I am
to go with you to Africa?"

"Ah, poor Amina!  I forgot all about her," said Amer, stopping and
speaking in a regretful tone.  "Selim, my son, this is sad.  Amina will
never permit thy departure.  It would break her heart."

"But I must go sometime from home, father.  Why not now?  With whom can
I be safer than with thee?  I am not going with strangers, nor am I
leaving my kindred.  I am going with thy kindred, thy household, and
thyself.  What can my mother object to?"

"Thou art right, Selim--thou art right!  She cannot object.  Our slaves,
our kindred are going--but--but--poor Amina, she will be left alone.
Go, Selim, tell her kindly.  It will pain her."  And Amer turned shortly
away, as if he had sudden and important business in another direction.

Selim, on the other hand, bounded lightly away, arrived at the great
carved door of the mansion, ran up the broad stairs, and made his way to
the harem, or the women's apartments, where Amina reigned queen and
mistress.

Few boys of Selim's age could have approached their mother with the
earnestly-respectful manner with which Selim approached Amina.  I doubt
even if the Queen of England's children ever observed such courteous
respect towards their august parent as Selim observed now, and as most
well-bred Arab boys do observe always toward their parents.

Selim left his slippers outside, and lifting the latch quietly, walked
in with bare feet, and, approaching his mother, kissed her right hand,
and then her forehead, and at her invitation seated himself by her side,
and suddenly remembering the all-important secret he had to communicate,
looked up to his mother, with his handsome features all aglow.

"Mother, canst thou tell me what I have come to say to thee?"

Amina looked for an instant fondly on her son, and then answered with a
smile--

"No, my son.  Hast thou anything very important to tell me?"

"Very important, mother," and he pursed his lips as if he would retain
it for a long time before imparting it, and as if it were worth some
trouble of guessing.

"I wish thou wouldst not task my skill of divination too much.  Thy face
tells me thou art happy with it, but it does not assure me that I shall
be equally happy.  I divine only on the Kuran, and though thy face is
innocent and without guile, yet it is more difficult to read than the
Kuran.  Tell it me, Selim, I pray thee."

"Then, my mother, I am going with my father to Africa!"

"To Africa, child!  To Africa!  Where is that?  Thou dost not mean the
mainland, surely?"

"Yes, I mean far away into the interior of the mainland," replied Selim,
still looking at his mother smilingly.

"To the interior of Africa!" cried the poor woman in dismay, her face
assuming the hue of sickness.  "Why, what can thy father want in
Africa?--he was never there before.  What can he want there now?"

"He is going to Africa with Khamis bin Abdullah, Sheikhs Mohammed,
Thani, Mussoud, Sultan, Amran, Hamdan, and many others, to a far country
called Rua, to buy ivory and slaves, and come back rich."

"Going to Africa!  To get rich!  Oh, Allah!" cried out Amina, in accents
of unfeigned surprise, mixed with emotion.  "And thou art going with
him--thou, a child?  Art thou going to get rich too?"

"I am to accompany my father and kinsmen, not to get rich, but to see
the world, and learn how to be a man, to shoot lions, and leopards,
zebras, and elephants, with my new English gun."

"Cease thy prating, child; thy tongue runs at a fearful rate.  Thou
shoot lions and leopards!  Thou!  Why thou art but a baby, but lately
weaned!  Thou and thy father must be dreaming!" said Amina sharply, and
with an attempt at a sneer.

It was a brave attempt on the part of a nearly heart-broken woman, who
would fain suppress the cry of anguish that struggled to her lips, but
as she said the last words, one glance at Selim's face showed to her
that such tactics, would never answer.  The eaglet had been taught that
wings were made to fly with.  The boy had been rudely laughed at, and
his latent manliness aroused, by the son of the American consul, who had
sneered at him.  Selim had found that a head was on his shoulders which
teemed with daring thoughts; that he had arms to his shoulders, and legs
to his body, made on purpose, as it were, to execute such thoughts as
the head conceived.  With the culmination of such knowledge fled
unregretfully the pleasant days of the harem, the memories of his romps
with the girls, days upon days of effeminate life.

Achilles was found out by the sight which he obtained of some war
weapons.  Selim had found out that he was a boy by a sneer.  Charming as
was his mother's company, happy as he had been with his feminine
playmates, proud as he had been of his golden tassels and embroidery,
fond as he had been of being loved and embraced as an entertaining young
friend by little girls of his own age--all these experiences became
inane and stupid compared to the overpowering consciousness he felt that
he was a boy, and might in time become a strong man.  A man! perish all
other thoughts and memories, feelings, and reminiscences save those
which tend to lead him to the goal of manhood, which he has set himself
to reach by a journey to Africa, to the land of cannibals and lions,
leopards and elephants, to the land of adventure, undying fable, and
song.

"Mother," said Selim, removing his turban and _fez_, as if his
head-dress compressed the grand thought which filled his brain, "my
childhood is passed.  I have been thoroughly weaned from all things
belonging to a child.  I am now a strong boy, and in five years I shall
be a man.  Allah made the world, and made it to grow.  It has been
growing ever since it was made.  Allah made infants; infants grow if
they live; they become boys--boys become men.  When I was an infant I
had no understanding nor strength.  Thou, my mother, didst point out to
me my nourishment.  I flourished on it, and in time was weaned.  In a
little time my strength availed me to put my own food into my own lips.
I flourished on that food, and I became stronger still.  Later I
understood language, and answered thee with childish love and affection.
I romped in the harem, and was happy.  Then I was permitted to go out
of doors unattended by my female attendant.  I bathed in the sea.  I
learned to swim, and acquired games which boys learn one from another.
I learned to ride on horses; I learned to shoot, and day by day I was
getting stronger in body and limb, and with my strength has begun to
grow my thoughts.  These thoughts are thoughts of manhood, of duty; and
the business of life, which I am beginning to learn, is serious.
Mother, dear mother, my health required, when I was strong enough to
enjoy out-of-door life, that I should run about and leap.  Mother, my
happiness demands that my thoughts should be humoured as my strength
was.  I find I am made of two parts--body and mind.  Neither may be
longer neglected--both must be humoured, or I die.  If my body is not
exercised out in the open air--if I be imprisoned in a harem, I shall
become dwarfed.  I shall not grow.  If my mind is not exercised by
seeing, and talking with many people--if I see no more than my mother
and my mother's slaves--my mind cannot grow.  I shall know nothing, and
I shall become a fool.  I, the son of Amer, the son of Osman, will be
sneered at.  It may not be, dear mother.  I must go away, and learn the
lesson of a man's life."

"But, my dear son," said Amina, entreatingly, for she had been
astonished and amazed at the amount of logic which the boy, to her
surprise, had put forth in his statement.  "Consider, thou art yet
young, and that thou mayst wait awhile yet before journeying to that
horrid land of negro savages.  What canst thou find there to learn?
Seeing lions and leopards, and elephants and ugly crocodiles, will not
ripen thy mind.  Surely thou art cruel to think of leaving me alone
here--both my lord Amer and my son at one time!"

"Nay, my mother, what I shall see in Africa will be new and strange.
The sight of new and strange things is like the lessons which the good
Imam used to give me at school from the Kuran.  Every day I shall see
something new, and every day I shall grow in wisdom and experience; and
my mind will be enriched by each new thing, and in time will become a
store of wisdom, to be applied to my advantage in affairs of life.  Thou
art surprised that I talk so, mother.  I have been talking with wise
white men.  The consuls, who know everything, have been dropping strange
ideas to me every day, not because I asked them, or that they dropped
them for my benefit.  Being permitted to play with their children, I
have been in their presence while they were conducting their business,
and the amount of wisdom the white men know is wonderful.  Great
thoughts--too great for me to understand--dropped from their mouths--
from one to another--just as those pearls which thou dost play with are
passed from thy right hand to thy left."

"It is well, my son.  I have heard thee through.  Thou art already older
by many years than I took thee to be yesterday.  Thou mayst tell my lord
Amer how Amina received thy news.  I will have something more to tell
thee, before thou goest to Africa," and Amina arose to leave the
apartment for another, humbly, and with her head bowed down.

"My mother," cried Selim, springing up, and seizing her hand, which he
conveyed respectfully to his lips, "be not offended.  It is not my
doing, but Allah's, and Allah's will be done!"

"Ay, truly!  Allah's will be done!" said the poor mother, embracing him,
but with more restraint than usual.

We are now compelled to leave each of the Arabs engaged to accompany
Khamis bin Abdullah to Rua in search of ivory and slaves to make his
preparations as he best knows how.  It is not our duty to peer too
closely into the small details of this business of preparation.  It
absorbs all one's time, and we feel sure if we troubled them to give us
too minute an account of the manner in which they get along, some
impatient expressions might escape to our regret.  Therefore we think it
better to leave each Arab alone, to the cunning of his own devices, to
his calculations, and purchases, to his ever-recurring vexations, to the
fatigue and anxiety which belong to the task of fitting out; merely
observing, as we pass by, that each Arab purchases such beads, of such
colours, as he thinks proper, such cloth as he deems suitable for his
market, so much powder and lead as will sufficiently provide his men for
the defence of his goods, should such be ever necessary, so many guns as
he has men, such luxuries in the shape of crackers and potted sweets,
sugar, tea, and coffee, as the chief of the caravan deems it necessary
to take.  "Nothing in excess, but enough of every necessary thing," is
the golden rule adopted by all people about penetrating Central Africa.

The Arab chiefs and their followers, though they generally take a long
time to prepare a caravan, were in this instance, however, much to our
pleasure, punctual to the day named, and at the beginning of the new
moon of the sixth month of the year of the glorious Hegira 128-, or the
year of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ 186-, the ships containing the
expedition and the vast amount of stores requisite for the consumption
of a large and imposing caravan for about three years, set sail in the
morning from the open harbour of Zanzibar, for the port of Bagamoyo, on
the mainland, distant twenty-five miles.

Let us wave our snowy handkerchiefs to the travellers, for we have one
or two young friends who accompany them.  Let us wish them a cheery _bon
voyage_, and a happy issue out of their enterprise, if it so happen that
the Lord of Moslems and Christians looks down upon its purpose with
favourable eye.  Let us at least bear them good will until they have
forfeited our good opinion by acts contrary to Christian charity and the
good will to all men which that most loving God-Man, Jesus, preached
unto us.



CHAPTER TWO.

BIDDING FAREWELL--AMINA'S FAREWELL TO SELIM--SELIM IN TEARS--SIMBA'S
FEATS OF STRENGTH--MOTO'S CHARACTER DESCRIBED--LITTLE NIANI, THE BOY,
CALLED MONKEY--MOTO MEETS ELEPHANTS--MOTO'S DARING ADVENTURE--A NARROW
ESCAPE--THE STORY OF MOTO--KISESA PREPARES TO ATTACK--THE KING'S SON,
KALULU--WHAT PRINCE KALULU SAID TO MOTO--SIMBA PRAISES MOTO.

On the fifteenth day of the sixth month, the members of the last
caravan, under the command of Amer bin Osman, were taking farewell of
their friends, who had arrived at Bagamoyo from Zanzibar that morning
for last words.

It was a most affecting scene, as all such must be when young men are
about to sever themselves from their connections for the first time, and
fathers and husbands are commending to the care of the good God those
whom they are about to leave behind, perhaps for ever.

Who knows how many of these stalwart and stout-hearted people will
return to those from whom they are now almost tearfully withdrawing?
Will the brave and noble Amer son of Osman, who is now bending over his
beautiful wife, in earnest conversation, ever come back?  He appears so
strong and robust in health; two hundred well-appointed servants of his
household are round about him; his Arab companions, with their powerful
retinue, who have gone before him to Simbamwenni, we may be sure, will
be faithful to him.  Yet who can insure his return?  And thus doubt,
fear, and anxiety alternate in his wife Amina's eyes, as she raises them
appealingly, regretfully, towards his own.

"Yes, Amina, please God, I shall come back within two years, with so
much ivory, and so many slaves, as will make me the richest man in
Zanzibar.  Inshallah!  Inshallah!" said Amer, in a sanguine tone.

"Amina, say thy farewell to Selim, the pride of the Beni-Hassan.  He
will some day return to Oman, a rich and powerful chief.  Dost thou not
think he looks a warrior in his marching dress?  But hasten, or we shall
have nothing but women's tears, which perhaps will drown us before we
begin our journey."

As Amer turned away after a still but fervent embrace, Amina turned to
Selim, with a look which revealed the love her maternal heart bore him,
and so steadfastly did she regard him, that it seemed she was fixing a
life-long picture of his features in her memory which time would in vain
attempt to efface.

"Thou, Selim," she said, drawing him nearer to her, "thou joy of my
heart, and jewel of my eyes!  Thou art really about to depart!  Thou to
leave thy mother's heart desolate!  What joy is left for me--my son and
lord both going?  Wilt thou not let thy mother's voice plead, and
prevail with thee, Selim?  Look, Selim, on that dancing sea!  Beyond the
narrow strait lies the Zanjian isle!  Over its fair shores the gentle
winds waft the perfumes of citron and orange!  The sweet scents of the
jasmine flowers, the cinnamon and clove vie with the fragrance of the
orange!  Bare odours and sweet strains of bulbul lull the senses into
perfect felicity!  The sweet air is pregnant with fragrance!  Where
canst thou meet with a land so fair, my Selim?  Wilt thou leave thy
mother, these delights, these joys, for the cruel heat, and thirst, and
jungle-thorn of negro-land?  Oh, Selim!  Oh, Selim!  Wilt thou leave thy
mother, the orange-groves, the palms, the cool fountains, for scorching
days and arid plains?  The road is long--oh, so long--for weeks, months,
and years it lies to the west!  Stay one moment longer, my Selim, and
let thy mother read thee what the Kuran's sacred page, which I've
divined, reveals.  Remember, it is the sure decree of Fate, to which God
has affixed his own heavy seal.  Hear these words, and stay with me:--

  "A day will come, a day of saddest woe,
  A day when Arabs meet the savage foe,
  And Arabs vainly cry for strength and might,
  And vainly strive to save themselves by flight.

  "It is a day of woe, a day of doom,
  A day surcharg'd with black and bitter gloom;
  And sons shall mourn for Arab fathers slain,
  And Arab wives shall shed their tears like rain.

"Wilt thou stay with me now?  No!  Proud boy, shun the death and misery
which wait this venture!  Despise not the warning of Allah!  Why wilt
thou, oh Selim, shake thy head so stubbornly?  Speak."

"Dearest mother, it may not be.  If Fate decrees my death and misery,
then why should I try to escape its sure laws by remaining behind?  If
death awaits my father, Selim's place is by Amer's side, to die as
becomes the son of an Arab chief.  But these are but trivial fears of
thine, my mother.  Why shouldst thou fear for me?  Am I not with my
father, the brave Amer son of Osman?  Have I not my gun and long-sword?
What can the Pagan dogs do against all the great Arabs, and my father's
kinsmen, when Khamis bin Abdullah, and Amer bin Osman lead?  Trust in
Allah, mother.  Believe me, I shall return to thee, tall and strong,
with plenty of ivory and slaves to make thee rich--to hang such jewels
on thy neck as befits a chief's wife.  Hark! the horn of the guide
sounds the signal of departure.  My father is impatient, and I must go
to him.  Embrace me, mother, and bless me ere I go."

Amina, seeing persuasion useless, needed no command for such an
affectionate duty.  A full mother's love rose responsive to the call of
her son, but her son's impatience rendered the embrace, though fervid,
short.

"Allah go with thee, my boy!" cried the mother.

"And with thee also, for ever!" responded Selim.

They were parted at last, one to join his father, who was striding
forward with his caravan, the other to turn to a friend's house, to sob
and weep, and think of the loved ones now fast retiring towards the
west.

For a long time father and son were silent.  Amer strode on quickly,
with an impassive countenance, whence all expression was banished save
firmness, and a lofty air of determination.

Selim, thorough son of a thorough Arab, with his head bent down
mechanically followed his father's footsteps, and allowed the strange
birds to rise, and sing, and fly unheeded about him, the sun to sink
unheeded to the west, and the twilight to approach, without seeming to
be at all conscious that he was marching to that grand, fabulous, awful
heart of Africa, about which he had heard so much, and which he had
craved in his heart of hearts to see.

The silence was unbroken until the caravan had halted on the banks of
the Kingani, then Selim recovered himself, and a copious flood of tears
caused by a feeling of tender melancholy which came over him at the
thought that he had really and actually left the pleasant happy home for
that sable, ominous, forested land that stretched deathly still across
the river.

The father turned as he heard the deep sobs of his boy, and on
approaching him laid his hand kindly on his head, and said:

"What! in tears, my son?  Art thou sorry thou hast left thy home--eh,
Selim?"

"No, father, I am not sorry, but home seemed so beautiful as I thought
of it, compared to that still dark land beyond.  There are nothing but
black-looking forests across the river, even the sky looks black and
desolate, and my heart seems to have caught some of its desolation."

"The forest looks sombrous and dark, my son, because night approaches,"
said Amer, tenderly.  "That black-looking sky which hastens from the
east is but the counterpane earth draws about it before folding its arms
to sleep.  When we shall have crossed the river we will camp, and in the
tent, which thou wilt learn to love as thy home, thou wilt forget thy
present misery; and in the morning, when earth is wide awake, and the
sun comes out as gay as a bride from the east, and the birds have all
left their nests and fill the air with their joyous songs, and the
fleet-footed antelope browses in the open glades, thou wilt wonder that
thou couldst find it in thy heart to weep."

"Oh, father, I shall weep no more.  See, my eyes are already dry;" and
Selim raised a brave face towards his father, which was tenderly kissed.

The caravan was soon across the river, and every man and woman was
engaged in cutting down young trees and branches to form a stockade, a
duty not to be omitted by well-conducted caravans in Africa.

When this was done the people gathered within the camp and prepared
their evening meal.  The tents were all disposed in a circle, with their
doors open towards the centre, where stood Amer bin Osman's tent.  Close
by the master's tent, on either side, were two or three of the most
faithful slaves, who were styled fundis, or overseers, to whom were
given the orders for the conduct of the caravan by the chief.

Over these overseers, for their fidelity and peculiar qualities, were
placed two men, who are intended to figure conspicuously in this
narrative; their names were Simba (Lion) and Moto (Fire).  Where Amer
bin Osman the chief went Simba and Moto followed.  To these two Amer was
as dear as their own hearts, and the boy Selim was their delight; his
slightest wish was law to these faithful creatures, who looked upon him
as though he were something immeasurably superior to them, as though he
belonged to some higher world of which they had no comprehension.

Simba was a giant in form, and a lion, as his name denoted, in strength
and courage.  He was originally from Urundi, a large country bordering
the northeastern part of Lake Tanganika.  He was the son of a chief, and
was captured when a boy in battle when Moeni Khheri's father sided with
the Wasige against Makala, a quarrelsome king living in the northern
districts of Urundi.  Being a chief's son he of course belonged to the
Wahuma, a superior race of bronze-coloured people who formerly migrated
from Ethiopia, and from whom only chiefs are selected in the countries
of Urundi, Ruanda, Uganda, and Karagwah.

Simba was now in the prime of manhood, and he had lived in the household
of Amer bin Osman for twenty years, for Amer, after his arrival at
Zanzibar, within a year of his capture, had purchased him, and seeing
him to be docile and good-tempered, though uncommonly strong, had almost
adopted him as his son.

Some of Simba's feats of strength bordered on the marvellous.  Taught by
the young kinsmen of Amer the use of the long, sharp sword of the Arabs,
and being apt, he had acquired a terrible proficiency with it.  He had
often walked up alongside of a full-grown goat, and had with one well
dealt blow halved the animal from head to tail.  Many of his negro
admirers verily believed he could perform the same feat upon an ass, so
extraordinary was his strength, but he had never attempted it, as the
experiment was too costly for his means.  He had once carried a
three-year-old bullock on his back half way around the plantation of his
master, Amer.  He had often taken one of the large white donkeys of
Muscat by the ears and by a sudden movement of his right foot, had
prostrated the animal on his back; and once, upon an extraordinary
occasion, had actually carried twelve men on his back and shoulders and
chest around his master's house, to the intense wonder of a large crowd
of spectators.  He could toss an ordinary man ten feet high into the
air, and catch him as easily as an ordinary man would catch a small
child.  But manifold were the stories related with awe of the feats of
strength performed by the brave lion-hearted Simba, chief overseer of
Amer bin Osman's caravan.  By measurement he stood six feet and five
inches in his bare feet, and from shoulder to shoulder he measured
thirty-two inches.

Moto, or "fire," could not have been better designated.  His name, which
his master had given him, had been bestowed upon him for his peppery,
irascible temper.  He was from Urori, as almost any one acquainted with
the peculiarities of the various tribes in Central Africa would have
sworn.  A small wiry frame, indicating cat-like activity, strength,
indomitability, capable of enduring great fatigue, characterised the
form of Moto.  He had also been brought to Zanzibar when a child by a
slave-trader, and from a mere caprice had been purchased for twenty
dollars by Amer.  But his master had never regretted the purchase, for
next to Simba, Amer bin Osman preferred Moto.  To serve his master Moto
would have thrown himself into the fire or leaped into the sea.  He was
a great hunter, he could track the soft velvet foot of the leopard upon
a rock, could tell what animal had broken a blade of grass if a single
hair but adhered to it, could stalk an elephant and tickle his belly
with a straw without letting the enormous brute know what deadly foe
intruded on his presence; and a man slightly inclined to exaggeration,
and not at all noted for his veracity, declared by this and by that,
that Moto had at one time dragged himself into a jungle after a lion,
and, finding the lion asleep, had from sheer bravado walked noiselessly
up to him and stepped over his body before he shot him through the head.

If you knew Moto as well as his own best friends knew him, you would
describe him as being as brave as a lion, active as a cat, keen-eyed as
the fish-eagle, hot as pepper, as hardy as an ass, and faithful as a
dog.  If you will add that he was a little vain, and never disposed to
resent any kind friend boasting of his prowess, you will have a perfect
picture of Moto the Mrori.

The first night on the road with some caravans is not very lively; the
people are engaged either in thinking of the joys they have left behind
them, or they are shy, and are sounding one another's qualities before
making advances.  But in the camp of Amer bin Osman there was no regret
at parting from Zanzibar, since the great master and little master were
with them, and every man knew his fellow and mate; thus there was no
disruption of friendships, associations, and congenialities.  Most of
those who were married had their wives with them; those who were not
married had their intimate friends and saw time-endeared faces around
them.  They were all of one household.  It was like unto the migration
of an entire settlement.

One glance within the huts and at the squatting forms informed you that
they were all happy--if not happy, contented.  No eyes like the
coal-black, the pure well of jet undefiled, of the native African, when
the firelight is reflected in their quick sparkles, can so well
represent merriness.  Those people with those sparkling eyes were merry;
they were interesting each other with their trite stories of very trite
lives; but when a peal of laughter louder than usual startled the camp
and rang through the forest, you may be sure it was either at a story of
hearsay or at something that Simba or Moto had been saying.

Such a laugh was heard, and instantly all eyes and mouths were uplifted,
and ears seemed to be quickened, to catch a few words of the story that
had caused an interested group to so loudly vent their delight.

The interested party of laughers were seated around a miniature bonfire,
which Simba and Moto had kindled some thirty feet or so from the chief's
tent.  Selim had lately arrived before it, and Simba had rolled a mighty
log behind his young master and had asked him to be seated, himself
seated on the ground, attentive and alert to please him; and Moto, not
to be outdone in assiduity by Simba, had just begun to draw from the
recesses of his memory, or from the cells of his imagination, one of his
best stories, when a ludicrous incident occurred and Selim had laughed
heartily.  Their young master had laughed, and of course when he laughed
Simba laughed; then seeing Simba laugh Moto laughed; and, as real
genuine laughter is contagious, all hands laughed, and the outer circle,
the entire caravan, smiled sympathetically.

Moto had commenced his story thus: "One day, when I was in the caravan
of Kisesa--(Abdullah bin Nasib--you know Kisesa is a great friend of my
master Amer, and if Kisesa liked to have me accompany him, Master Amer
would never say `No.'  It is in his caravan as fundi I finished my
education as a hunter)--travelling through Ukonongo, I--"

"Have you been to Ukonongo, Moto?" asked Selim.

"Oh, yes, and much farther.  Well, I was saying, I--"

"But, Moto," broke in Selim again, "Ukonongo is the best country for
shooting, is it not?"

"At certain seasons only.  In the dry season, yes.  Then all kinds of
game travel to the neighbourhood of the Cow River, and shooting is
plenty then, but for elephants give me Kawendi.  I was just going to
say, I--"

"But, Moto," broke in a naked youngster called Niani, or the Monkey
[Niani is a Kisawahili term for monkey], a nephew of Moto, "are there
lions in Kawendi? because--"

But he was not permitted to finish, as Moto sprang up furious, with his
kurbash (a hippopotamus-hide whip) in hand.  Niani noticed the movement,
and with the activity of his namesake, took a flying leap over the fire,
and alighted in a huge dish half full of rice that was slowly simmering
over some hot embers.  There was a loud shriek, and clots of hot rice
splashed in all directions, several falling on the nude shoulders of the
group, which started them all to their feet.  Then Selim laughed
heartily at the catastrophe.  Simba followed, then Moto stayed his hand
and laughed, and the laugh was taken by all, and this was the cause of
that which startled the camp and drew our attention.

"That is what some people get for interrupting a good story," said Moto,
sententiously addressing unfortunate Niani, who was rubbing his scalded
feet and moaning piteously in a low tone; but the words were said as
more of a hint to Selim.

"Well, go on, Moto; I will not disturb you another time," said Selim.

"Ah, I did not mean you, dear master," replied Moto.  "You may disturb
me as often as you like."

"Well, well, go on with your story, and let it be a good one," urged
Selim.

"All right, master.  Well, I had just said that I was in the caravan of
Kisesa, travelling through Ukonongo, when that little monkey Niani
interrupted me, and so got--"

"No, no, Moto, it was I that interrupted you; but go on with your story,
and never mind poor Niani; he has got his punishment, and you punish me
too by not telling me the story," asked Selim.

"Yes, yes, Moto, go on!" said the deep-voiced Simba.  "Do you not hear
the young master ask you?  Heh, what is the matter with the man
to-night?"

"Oh, well, if you are all going to interrupt me, the story will last
from here to Rua," said Moto in a careless tone.

"Moto," said Selim, "I will never disturb you any more--there's my hand
on my promise."

Moto's pride and vanity being gratified by this ready promise of Selim,
cleared his throat, and commenced this time in earnest, as follows:

"We were travelling through Ukonongo, and had reached Sultan Mrera's
village, when Kisesa asked me to go to the forest along the river to
look for game, adding that if I brought a Kudu antelope to the camp he
would give me four yards of cotton cloth.

"After a good breakfast of rice and carry, which Kisesa sent me from his
table to make me strong, I started.  It was then about noon, and the sun
was very hot, though once in the forest it would be cool enough.  In a
short time I was by the river, a crooked little stream of delicious and
clear water.  I walked along, looking to the right and left constantly
for hours, when just about two hours before sunset, I heard a hollow
sound, as though the earth was shaking; but I knew, after listening,
that the sound was caused by a herd of elephants walking in file along
the hard-baked road, and that they were approaching the stream to drink.

"In a moment I was down on my face like a dead man.  The grass was about
two feet high, and very thick, so that I was quite safe, if I did not
stir, and I am too old a hunter not to know what to do in the
neighbourhood of elephants.  As the elephants passed by I lifted my head
up cautiously, and counted them.  Two--four--six--eight--ten enormous
beasts, who tossed their trunks aloft, as if they were masters of the
forest, and knew it.  Careless and confident, they passed on, and I
wriggled out until I was some distance away; then I jumped up and leaped
across the stream, and on all fours crept across a deep bend of it; then
lying flat along the ground, I moved forward towards a great tree, a
baobab, that stood between me and them.  If the elephants had all stood
in a row drinking from the river I could never have come up to them
unseen, but one greedily thirsty fellow was standing in the middle of
the stream, almost touching the baobab tree with his side, so that he
completely hid me from the others.

"I thought that Kisesa, though he had not told me to shoot elephants,
would not mind my bringing him two great ivory tusks, which would be
worth at Zanzibar 500 dollars, since he had come to Ukonongo to get
ivory, and that if he gave me four yards of cloth for a Kudu antelope,
that he would give many more yards of cloth for 500 dollars worth of
ivory.

"This thought gave me confidence to proceed, and imperceptibly I was
drawing nearer and nearer to the monster near the baobab.  After a few
minutes, which seemed to me to be hours, I was lifting myself to my
feet, girding my loins tighter, and preparing myself for a run for life.
But just at the moment I ought to have fired, a mischievous idea came
into my head; the hind quarters of the brute were so close to me that I
thought it would be great fun, and a good story to tell afterwards if I
tickled the brute's tail.  Gutting a long straw, I extended the point
towards the tail, and then traced a line across the leg to the belly.
It was delicious to watch the flurry of the short tail and the circles
it described, and to watch the brute half leaning against the tree, and
rubbing it with his ponderous form.  When this play had lasted a short
time, I brought down my gun, and pointing it about three inches or so
behind the left fore leg, on a level with the position of the beast, I
fired.  The elephant sprang forward, and by doing so disclosed to the
astonished eyes of the others my retreating form, which, I assure you,
was bounding over the low bushes and grass tops as if I were an
antelope.

"The elephants got over their surprise in a second, then a wild snort of
rage greeted my ears, and I knew by the crash, of bushes and splash of
water that they were after me.  Never an antelope bounded over the
plains of Ukonongo, when chased by a lion, as I bounded then; never a
timid quagga's fleet feet carried him away from the hunters as my feet
carried me over that ground.  But it seemed to me for a time as if it
were of no use--the awful crashing got nearer and nearer, and as I
turned my head to measure the distance the foremost was from me, I saw
the lord of the herd was but thirty paces from me.  He seemed to tower
up to three times his usual height, and to swell out into proportions
three times as vast as his natural size; his great ears stood straight
out as flat as a board, as if they were wings, and his eyes were like
coals of fire; his trunk was lifted up, as you sometimes see the deadly
forest snake before it strikes his victim; his head was stretched out,
as the head of a giraffe when chased by a beast of prey, and the two
long, mighty, gleaming teeth seemed awful just then.  His eyes caught a
glance of mine as I turned them towards him, and that instant he uttered
another snort of rage, which was as fearful as the war-horn of the
Watuta.  But it gave me greater speed; if I ran before, I now flew; yet
closer and closer the monster came.  I suppose he was about fifteen feet
from me when the tricks of the elephant hunters of Urori came to my
mind.  I had noticed that though the big elephant was the foremost, he
was also the outermost on my right--the other elephants were to my left,
and they seemed to be following the lord of the herd rather than any
particular object.  In an instant after observing this, I shot out
straight to the right from the direction I was first going as hard as my
feet and legs would take me.  The elephants passed on, the rushing sound
of their feet going through the grass was like unto the wild pepo of
Ugogo, accompanied by thunder, when it comes sweeping over the plain,
with a moan and a rush, whirling and tossing bushes, and even small
trees about sometimes, and darkening the air with what it tears from the
earth.

"I had got fifty yards away before the elephants could turn about.  Only
an instant, however, they stopped.  They caught sight of me again, and
with loud, furious snorting again they charged in a mass.  I am a pretty
swift runner as you all know, but the best of us seem to crawl compared
to the speed of an elephant for the first few hundred yards.  The
elephants, especially one or two of the foremost, were gaining on me
rapidly; the stubborn grass whipped my legs severely as I ran, and was a
sore distress to me, but the thick hide of my pursuers was proof against
it.  A little distance off before me, and to the left, was a clump of
brushwood.  I thought if I could gain it, I would be comparatively safe,
as I could find somewhere to hide.  In a few moments I reached it, and
looking sharply about, I discovered, a little distance off, half hidden
by grass and brush, a hole in the ground, which I knew to be that of the
wild boar.  I thought it would be a capital place to hide, provided the
boar was out of his hole, and in a second I was on my face crawling
backwards into it.  I had barely crawled in when I heard the elephants'
thunder overhead, and at the same instant I heard a deep grunt behind
me, and immediately after I was shot out of that hole, like a bullet out
of a gun, and I lay on the ground a few paces from it like a dead man.
I had just consciousness enough to know that I had been grievously
wounded in one of my hams by the furious owner of the underground
excavation in which I found shelter; that the boar had darted off in the
direction the elephants had taken, then I lost all knowledge of
everything for many hours.

"When I recovered it was night.  And soon I heard shots in the distance,
fired at regular intervals, and thinking perhaps that they were my
friends looking for me I fired my gun, which was immediately answered by
another.  By firing thus every few minutes I succeeded in guiding them
to where I lay, for I found myself unable to move.

"When my friends found me, and were acquainted with my condition, they
lifted me on their shoulders and bore me to the camp, where I lay unable
to move for about three weeks.  The marks that savage boar gave me I
have yet, and shall have to my dying day.  I have spoken."

"Well, what became of the elephant you shot?" asked Selim, when Moto had
concluded his graphic and interesting story.

"He was picked up next day, about two hours' distance from the place
where I had shot him.  His trail was easily known by his blood, Kisesa
made quite a sum of money from that elephant, as the tusks were as large
as any that were ever seen."

"How many cloths did Kisesa give you?" asked Selim.

"Only forty."

"_Only_ forty?  That was a good deal, was it not?" asked Selim.

"Forty cloths for what brought him three hundred at Zanzibar!  Do you
call forty cloths a great deal?" asked the offended Moto.

"But you forget, Moto," said Selim, "that you were a slave in the employ
of Kisesa; that the gun you carried was his, that the powder and shot
you used to shoot the elephant with were his, that the clothes you then
wore were given you by him, that the food which gave you strength was
purchased with his money, that the men who carried you from the forest
to the camp were his slaves, that the men who looked after you when you
were sick and wounded were his men, that the man who found the elephant
dead belonged to Kisesa, and that without Kisesa's aid you would have
died in the jungle, perhaps, and never have seen the elephant again.
What do you say now, Moto?" asked Selim.

"You are right, young master, as you are always," said the humiliated
Moto, which remark was echoed and applauded by everybody around the
camp-fire.

"But, now," said the hitherto quiet Simba, "tell us about that battle
Kisesa had with the Warori--your own people--and how you saved the
king's son."

"Ay, do tell us that.  It must be an interesting story," said Selim.  "I
shall sleep all the better for it this first night of my life in
Africa."

"Well, when my friend Simba asks and my young master commands me, Moto
is always ready," said Moto, adding a huge log to the already cheerful
fire-pile.  "It is not such a long time ago but what I can remember
every detail of it.  It may have happened three or four years ago;
Kisesa was then in Unyanyembe.  He was mortally offended with the Arab
chief Sayd bin Salim, the Wali of the Sultan of Zanzibar at Unyanyembe,
and most of the Arabs took sides with Kisesa, as they knew he was a
brave, powerful, and rich chief, who might defy even the Sultan of
Zanzibar if he chose to do so.

"When Sayd bin Salim requested the Arabs to assist him in fighting the
black chief of Kahama in Ugolo, Kisesa refused to go, and most of the
other Arabs did the same, as they said that Kahama was but a small
village and that the son of Salim had soldiers enough paid by the Sultan
of Zanzibar to do that kind of fighting.  Now the son of Salim, though
he knows how to govern Arabs and keep the peace with peaceful merchants,
has neither head nor heart for fighting.  (It takes Kisesa to do that
work.)  So two or three weeks after Sayd bin Salim had gone to the war
we were not at all astonished to see the Wali come back well beaten by
Kahama; and Kisesa and the other Arabs had a good laugh at him.

"When soon after the war with Urori broke out, and Sayd bin Salim was
requested to call every Arab to the war, Sayd bin Salim refused; but
said that if Kisesa desired to go, he, as king's governor of Unyanyembe,
would empower Kisesa to lead the Arabs to war, and make him chief of the
army.  Kisesa accepted at once, and the principal Arabs at once
volunteered to go with him.  Within a very few days Kisesa left
Unyanyembe with nearly a thousand men for Urori, so that Unyanyembe
looked like a deserted place.

"I think it was on the twentieth day--I am not sure--of the march, that
after travelling through Unyangwira and Kokoro we came near Kwikuru, the
capital of Urori.  We slept on our arms that night until about the
eighth hour, when at a given signal we all crept through the bushes for
about an hour, and by the moonlight we saw just ahead of us the boma
(palisade) of the king's village.  I assure you we did not stop long to
look at it, for our horns gave the signal and we all ran for the boma.
Quick as a flash of powder in the musket-pan, as you may say, the men of
Kisesa were at the palisade, and had their guns pointed at the village
through the bare; but not a gun was fired, as Kisesa knew how to make
war.

"Kisesa blew his horn, and a voice from the village shouted out to ask
who we were, and what we wanted.

"Our chief replied, `Come out to fight, for Kisesa is at your gates.'

"`Kisesa!' said the voice, in an astonished tone.  `Kisesa! it cannot be
Kisesa from Unyanyembe!'

"`It is Kisesa, and no other man.  I am Kisesa, and I have come to kill
you.'

"The man said then, `Kisesa has been in a hurry to die to come so soon
to Kwikuru, the capital of the King of Urori.  Does Kisesa usually fight
in such a hurry?  It has been our custom to talk first before we fight.
What does Kisesa mean?' asked the King, for it was he, though we could
not see him, as he took care not to let himself be seen.

"`Thou art a dog, and a son of a dog!' answered Kisesa.  `Hast thou not
been making war upon our merchants, killing them in the forest for the
sake of their ivory?  Hast thou not been mutilating their young sons by
cutting off their right hands?  Hast thou not been beating the prisoners
with sticks until many of them have died under the torture?  Hast thou
not asked for Kisesa, the great Arab warrior, that thou mightest flay
him alive and make clothes of his skin to cover thy nakedness?  Lo!
Kisesa is here at thy gates; come and take his skin.'

"`Kisesa, thou hast done well to come to me before I came for thee.
Kisesa, thou art a good man, but I will flay thee alive nevertheless,
and thou shalt know what it is to come to the gates of Mostana, like a
thief at night.  They told me thou wert brave.  Is it brave to do what
thou hast done?  My young son Kalulu, who is but a child, is more than a
match for thee.  Halt where thou art until daylight, that we may at
least see him who is said to be brave, but is but a night prowler!'

"`Mostana, if that be thy name,' said Kisesa, `I will wait for thee
until the sun appears in the east.  Thou shalt then look on my face and
die.  I have spoken.'

"So we all laid down close against the palisade outside.  Every fifth
man was to stand watch while the others slept.  As soon as the sun
appeared in the east, over the tops of the trees, the horns of Kisesa
were heard, calling us all to be ready; and at the same time the drums
of Mostana were heard.  I had been sleeping soundly, and I now looked in
between the posts of the palisade to see what kind of a place we were
about to attack.  It was a large village, circular, like all in Urori,
but the palisades were strong, and but lately put up.  There were scores
of huts inside, but what struck me as something very uncommon in Urori
was an inner enclosure (like, that in the King's village at Unyanyembe),
which surrounded Mostana's quarters, so that he could from the inside
hold out as long as we could outside if we were not more numerous or
better armed than he.

"We were not long before we were at it like lions, shooting into one
another's faces, or as near them as the defences would permit.  It was
evident that Mostana was getting the worst of the fight, for we were far
more numerous and had better guns, and farther apart from each other,
while Mostana's people were crowded together, and every bullet that went
in through the palisade wounded or killed some one, and the cries of the
women and groans of the wounded were frightful.

"After shooting at each other for an hour Kisesa gave notice to have the
two gates opened, and into these we poured in crowds, and as fast as we
got in we took advantage of the huts that were outside the king's
quarters.  Then, working ourselves gradually, shooting as we went, we
sprang at the other palisade, and putting our guns through, fired into
the crowds.  I assure you the scene was horrible; the people dropped to
the ground as fast as we could count them, so that in a short time the
few that were left began to cry for mercy, shouting `Aman!  Aman!'  The
gates of the inner defences, or the King's quarters, were broken open at
once, and Kisesa's men bounded in, making such noise that might be heard
a day's march from the village.  They fired their guns, they hooted,
they shouted, they sang.  Were they not victors?  I was carried in with
the crowd which poured in towards the King's house.  Old Mostana--he was
not very old either--was fighting to the last, firing his arrows so fast
into the crowd that many of Kisesa's men, even while they were singing
the songs of victory, fell dead, pierced to the marrow with the deadly
arrows which flew unerringly from his how.  At his side was a young lad,
younger by three years than Master Selim is; he was tall, straight, and
slender as one of the light assegais he threw so dexterously and quickly
into the crowds who were pressing onward towards the King.  Kisesa
himself was with us, and on seeing the matchless spirit and bearing of
the boy, he shouted, `Kill Mostana, but save the boy.  Fifty cloths to
him who brings me Kalulu alive.'  I am a Mrori, and I loved that boy for
his bravery the first time I saw him, and I determined to save him, if
possible for Kisesa and at the same time get the fifty cloths.  A shield
belonging to one of Mostana's men lay on the ground; I snatched it up,
and defending my body with it, I cried out to Kalulu in Kirori that I
was his friend and wished to save him.  The boy, surprised for a moment,
desisted, but seeing me advance hurriedly towards him, and fearing that
I only wished to do him harm, he hurled another light spear at me.  So
true was the boy's aim, he hit the centre of the shield and pinned my
hand to it, and at the same moment I saw his father fall across the
threshold of his house.  I heard the boy give one wild shriek, and then
saw him disappear inside; but darting forward, heedless of the pain in
my arm, I arrived at the door of the house, only in time, however, to
see him escape by another door, that led outside of the royal quarters.
I saw him take a hasty look, and, as if the coast was clear and no
danger to be apprehended, shoot off like an arrow, and the head-dress of
fish-eagle feathers he wore streamed behind him straight, so swift were
his feet.  I permitted him to spring to the palisade, but before he
could well clear himself of its tall posts I laid hold of his feet; but
not for long, however.  As the fiery lad clung with one hand, he used
the other in threatening to strike me, and the spears of the Warori are
sometimes dangerous.  When I released him, quicker than the black
leopard of the jungles of Kawendi, or the ever-jumping monkey of Sowa,
he sprang over the posts, and picking himself up, he raced away for
liberty as if for life.  But I am a Mrori too, and I am not to be
outdone by a boy, even though he were sired by Mostana; so snatching the
assegai, which hitherto had pinned my hand to the shield, I tossed the
shield over to the other side, and sprang after it myself.  It did not
take long for me to catch the fugitive; he had just entered the belt of
wood when I caught hold of his arm and bade him, in the Kirori tongue,
not to run away from a friend.  He turned round to me with such a look
in his large eyes--eyes that truly were like unto those of the young
Kalulu, his namesake, which, as it bounds over the low brush or grass
clumps in the plains of Urori and Ubena, seems never to touch the ground
as it leaps lightly and swiftly away from the cruel hunter.  Perhaps it
is because I am a Mrori that I was rather partial to the son of Mostana,
captive of my bow and of my spear, but when I saw those large, soft,
pleading eyes turned up to me, I wept for him who was a king's son
yesterday, and to-day was Moto's slave.

"`You are a Mrori,' said the boy, `and will you make Mostana's son a
slave to those robbers?'

"`My lord, the Arabs are not robbers; they are rich merchants trading
for ivory, who, when angered by wrong done to them, band together to
fight.  Mostana is dead; the Arab chief, Kisesa, wants you for himself.
Will you submit?'

"`You are not a Mrori; no Mrori warrior would talk of submitting to be
the slave of an Arab dog, however great or rich he is.  Mostana has
warned me often how it would all end.  But Kalulu, his son, will never
be a slave.  Listen, my brother.  [All strangers are addressed in
"Urori" as brothers.  All travellers are hailed as brothers.]  I was
born in that village; I first drew breath within that palisaded
enclosure; there I first learned to lisp "baba," "mama;" there I first
learned to distinguish friend from foe, light from darkness, good from
evil; there I first learned how to handle the spear and the bow, how to
throw the war-hatchet and the knob-stick; under those trees I have
sucked at my mother's paps, and when older have listened to the elders
of the village and counsellors of my father relating the traditions of
my great warrior tribe; in those fields now green with corn I have
played with friends of my own age--with Luhambo, Lotaka, Borata Natona,
Kahirigi, and others; in the pleasant stream which is now before us I
have bathed and caught the great fat fish; in this forest I have chased
the honey-bird, and searched for the sweet treasures the wild bees
stored for me; here the antelope and fleet zebra invited me to the
chase; even the very trees seem to know me, and recognise me as
belonging to this portion of earth.  But now Mostana, my father, is
dead, my village will be burnt, my kinsmen are either dead or bound
captives, the fields will be left desolate, and what I have hitherto
known as home will become a wilderness.  Yet for all this, when Cruelty
would even pause before going farther, I am pleading to a Mrori for the
only thing left for me to ask--my liberty!  Mrori, speak; must I ask
twice for that which was never yours to give?  Will you not let me
depart to my uncle, to remember the friendly Mrori who scorned to take
advantage of a boy?'

"`Go in peace, my lord, go in peace: I did but try you.  Moto is your
friend, and if you can remember Moto when you live happily amongst your
uncle's tribe, Moto will ever be grateful.'

"`Is Moto your name?' he said delightedly, taking my hand, while his
eyes danced with joy.  `Then let the Warori of my uncle's tribe ever
remember your name with pleasure.  Katalambula, my uncle, shall remember
your name for future benefit, should we ever meet again.  Kalulu has
spoken.'

"He embraced me as if I were his father, and then snatching his weapons
and the shield which I gave him, he turned away and, light as the
jumping antelope [the springbok], bounded away from sight.

"Come, my friends, the night is far spent, let us retire," said Moto,
when he had ended his really interesting story.

"What, Moto!  I am surprised that you let the fellow go, when you might
have got fifty cloths for him," said Selim.

"And I am not," said Simba, "for I know Moto, and it is for that I love
him as my brother.  Why, he was a king's son!  Should Moto take that
from Kalulu which was not his to take?  Ah, Moto! thou art good as the
yellow metal which all the rich Arabs at Zanzibar love so much, and
which the Banyan women love to hang on their yellow breasts.  Master
Selim, you know not what it is to be a slave; pray Allah that you never
will know," said Simba as he rose and yawned.

"I a slave! you are dreaming, Simba.  An Arab cannot be a slave, but a
black man was born to be an Arab's slave," replied Selim, with some
tartness in his tones.

"Well, well, we will talk of this another time," said Moto quietly, "eh,
Simba, my brother?  Master, the journey is far to-morrow; before the sun
rises, your father has said, we must be on the road to Simbamwenni.  It
is now late.  Good night, young master."

"I shall go to my father's tent to dream of Mostana's son, Kalulu," said
Selim, recovering his temper, saying which, he walked away.



CHAPTER THREE.

THE UNITED ARAB HOST--THE COUNCIL--THE LESSER COUNCIL--WHAT AN ARAB BOY
THINKS OF BEING A SLAVE--WHAT SELIM THINKS OF SLAVERY--SAREASTIO ISA--
LITTLE NIANI IS ILL-TREATED--SELIM, AND HIS FATHER--BEAUTIFUL SCENERY--
THE LAND FLOWING WITH MILK AND HONEY--IS IT RIGHT OR WRONG TO OWN
SLAVES?--THE FEARFUL CROCODILE--NARROW ESCAPE FROM DEATH--THE REWARD OF
SELIM'S COURAGE--SIMBA ON THE ALERT--THE REWARD OF SIMBA'S FIDELITY--THE
DEAD MARAUDER--THE FIERCE WARORI--THE ARAB COUNCIL--IS IT WAR, OR
PEACE?--IS IT WAR?

The next morning the caravan of Amer bin Osman was afoot at an early
hour, all hands feeling in a more excellent mood, if possible, than they
were when they retired to sleep.  They shouted, they sang merrily, and
enjoyed themselves in much the same manner that all caravans do, when
fresh and cheery they start on a trading campaign.

On the tenth day, on coming from under the shadows of the great scarps
of the Uruguru range, the walled town of Simbamwenni lay before them,
and on a green grassy slope, trending to the River Ungerengeri, were the
white tents and the huts of the caravans they were to join.

As is customary in Africa, the new-comers made their presence known to
their friends by repeated discharges of musketry, which brought out the
Arabs and their people by the hundreds.

The greeting which Amer bin Osman received from his friends was warm and
cordial.  The chiefs all embraced him after the manner and custom in
vogue amongst the Arabs, while their followers were not a whit less
expressive to Amer's people.  Selim was received with extraordinary
cordiality by the younger Arabs, some of whom were of his own age, and
after interchanging the long list of greetings customary in Arab
countries, they all adjourned to Khamis bin Abdullah's tent, who had by
acclamation been elected chief of the expedition, where in a short time
dishes of curried chicken and rice, kabobs, and sweets of various kinds,
with nice biscuits, were served as a substantial repast for the hungry
travellers.

Though conversation was animated and varied enough before Amer and his
son Selim had satisfied their hunger, it did not touch upon the object
of the expedition, but simply as to what events had transpired during
the journey from the coast to Simbamwenni; but when the repast was
ended, and the dishes were cleared, Khamis bin Abdullah broached the
subject near and dear to each heart just then--the future journey or
route of the expedition, "The great question, Amer bin Osman, about
which we have been attempting to decide," said Khamis, "is, shall we
take the road to Mbumi, in Usagara, and skirt the Mukondokwa mountains
to reach Uhehe, and strike a straight line to Urundi, thence to Marungu,
south of the Tanganika, for Rua, or shall we follow the old road through
Marenga M'Kali and Ugogo to Unyanyembe, thence to Ujiji, and across the
Lake Tanganika to Rua?  I should like to have thy opinion, for thou art
a man of age and experience, though thou hast never been to this land
before."

"Allah knows," responded Amer bin Osman, "that I know very little of
this country.  If thou dost not wish to decide thyself, as chief, which
is the best road, I should like to hear from thee, or others, about the
differences between the two roads, and the kind of countries which they
traverse."

"Well," said Khamis bin Abdullah, deliberately, "if I were by myself I
should prefer the old road, but there are some here of my friends who
know the country as well as I do, who think we are strong enough to be
able to march along the southern road.

"If we," continued he, "take the old road we shall have the Wagogo to
pay tribute to, or fight, as we like, between here and Rua; but if we
take the southern road, those thieves, the Wahehe, will have to be
looked after closely when going through their country; then we have the
Warori, a more powerful people than the Wagogo, to meet, whom we must
make friends or fight; then beyond Urori we have the Watuta, a tribe
related to the Warori, who speak their language and are more than the
Warori, whom we shall be obliged to pacify or make war against, just as
we feel, and beyond the Watuta is a straight road to the ivory country
of Rua.  I will admit that the southern road is by three or four months
the shortest, but I cannot admit that it is the safest."

"And what do my friends think of the two roads?  What does Sultan bin
Ali say?" asked Amer.

"I say," replied old Sultan, "that it would be far more prudent in us to
take the northern road.  The Wagogo are far more mischievous and
insolent than any I know, but we need not fear them if we are wise, and
do not provoke war."

"Well, if Sultan bin Ali and Khamis bin Abdullah think that the northern
road is the best, I would prefer to be guided by their judgment; but
what do the majority of the chiefs think of it?" asked Amer, directing
his glance to the others who had not yet spoken of this matter to him.

Said Khamis: "There are ten chiefs of us, including thyself; seven of us
are for the southern road, and thou, and I, and Sultan bin Ali are for
taking the northern road."

"Yes," said Sheikh Mohammed, "for this reason.  We are over 600 strong,
all armed with guns.  It is true we shall have to pay tribute to the
Warori and the Watuta, and may experience some trouble from the Wahehe,
who are dogs and sons of dogs; but the tribute, if we pay any, will not
be much, and will be cheaper in the end than the three months we would
lose on the southern road; besides, we save the cloth we would have to
pay the Wagogo, who are insolent besides being extortionate.  Three
months on the road cost us altogether about 900 doti, or fifteen bales
of cloth.  Put the Warori tribute against the Wagogo, and we have
fifteen bales of cloth, out of which we can pay the tribute to the
Watuta.  It is evident we effect a saving, besides gaining three months
time."

"That is a very good way of putting it," said Amer, "but what dost thou
say, Khamis, about the comparative safety of the two roads?  Is there
more danger to be apprehended from the Warori and the Watuta than we, a
trading caravan, would care to meet?"

"That is the view we should take of the matter, and not of the little
cloth we should save," responded Khamis.  "Experience tells me to avoid
the Warori, if possible, but above all the Watuta.  The Warori are brave
and strong, and sometimes very dangerous; but I have always heard the
Watuta were dangerous, that they are a fierce tribe who live by robbing
caravans, and I should not like to undertake to decide for the southern
road without the concurrence of every chief here present."

"Well, thou hast my consent if thou dost require it, and if God pleases
he can guide us in safety through any tribe in Africa.  Far be it from
me to disagree with those who know better than I what roads to take, and
what will best serve our interests," said Amer.

"And if thou dost require mine for thy decision," said old Sultan bin
Ali, "I shall not deny the right of any of the other chiefs to have as
much a voice in the caravan as I have; so now, friend Khamis, thou hast
the liberty to agree or disagree, and hast a right to decide whether
thou wilt lead us through Urori or through Ugogo to the ivory country."

"I have only one voice in the matter, and if ye are all of one consent
that it is better for us to march by the southern road, and still of one
mind that I shall lead ye, I have nothing more to say," responded
Khamis.

"We are, we are," they all replied.

"Very well, the march begins to-morrow," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "at
one hour before sunrise.  We follow the old road as far as Mbumi, when
we shall turn south."

The news was soon communicated through the host of followers, and each
knot and group had their own opinions, which they discussed with, as
much acumen and wisdom as their superiors had evinced.

But not to lose eight of our friends Simba and Moto, let us listen to
what they have to say concerning the unusual line of route about to be
adopted.

It is night.  The camp-fires are blazing by the score; huts are ranged
around the immense circle, which is more than 500 feet in diameter, and
scores of huts dot the centre of the circle, with their doors opening
according as the taste, fancy, or caprice of the builders suggested.
The huts of the Arab chiefs are arranged in a line close to one another,
but still far enough to insure the privacy and exclusion which every
Arab so much loves for the female portion of his household.

Near the tent of Amer bin Osman are seated before the usual fire-pile
the faithful slaves Simba and Moto with the fundis of the other Arabs;
and on carpets of Oman manufacture are placed Selim, the son of Amer,
Khamis, the young son of Khamis bin Abdullah, the leader, Isa, the son
of Sheikh Thani, and Abdullah and Mussoud, brothers, aged fourteen and
twelve respectively, the sons of Sheikh Mohammed.

We hear Selim's voice first, as we pay him this attention for
personating the hero of this veracious romance.

Said he: "Well, Simba;--ah, Isa, you do not know what a treasure Simba
is; he is so great, so wise, so strong!--what do you think of the
southern road? do you think we shall see more fun?"

"My young master, I fear so," answered Simba, while at the same time he
never lifted his head, so apparently intent was he in keeping his
flint-lock musket clean--a favourite occupation with Simba.

"You fear so!" said Isa, in a tone of surprise.  "What, you fear that we
shall see some fun!  Fie, Simba! did you not hear your young master say
you were brave and strong, and why should you fear we should have some
fun?" he asked, in a sneering tone.

Simba, turning his wise and large eyes upon Isa, said: "Ah, Master Isa,
you are a boy, and cannot understand."

"Hear the slave!" shouted Isa, laughing boisterously at Simba's
solemnity.  "Hear the man!" he repeated.  "Isa, son of Mohammed, is a
boy and cannot understand--and cannot understand what--will you tell me,
brave Simba?" he asked.

"You cannot understand, child, that what may be fun to some people will
be sorrow to others; that we may meet with fun of a kind that neither
you nor any of us will much like," said Simba, still rubbing away at the
already excessively clean gun, and looking graver than before.

"Why, what is the matter with you to-night?" asked Selim of Simba.

"The truth is, master, I do not like the course the Arabs have taken.  I
think they have been too hasty in adopting the southern road.  None
knows it better than friend Moto, and if the great masters had asked of
Moto something about the road, my mind would be more easy concerning you
and the great master Amer."

"What do you know of it, Moto?" asked Selim.  "Speak, and tell us all
you know."

"What Simba says is truth," replied Moto.  "The Warori are bad, bad,
bad, and the Watuta are worse--very bad--and I think we shall have very
serious times of it."

"How serious?" asked Selim again.

"I mean that we are very likely to have war with them.  Ever since
Abdullah bin Nasib or Kisesa had that battle with Mostana, the Warori
have been wicked.  They have Arab slaves now.  They formerly used to
kill their prisoners or torture them, but now they treat them in the
same way that the Arabs treat the Warori chiefs--they make slaves of
them."

"Make slaves of Arabs!" shouted young Khamis, a sinewy youth of sixteen,
and brave as the bravest of men.  "You lie, cur dog; you lie, slave!" he
added furiously.

"Ah, Master Khamis," said Moto, deprecatingly, "if they are slaves, it
was not I who made them slaves; but I speak the truth."

"A Bedaween!--a free Bedaween, who owns no master--a slave!  Moto, you
are a liar; it is impossible.  A Bedaween cannot live in slavery."

"But there are slaves with the Warori, and some are Arabs.  I swear it,"
he added solemnly.

"Then for my part," said young Khamis, "I am glad that my father has
taken this road.  The torments of Eblis light on the unbelieving dogs!
An Arab a slave!  Then let every Mrori look to himself should he fall
into my power, for, by Mohammed's holy name, I will torture the reptile
to death."

"Hold, young master," said the deep-voiced Simba, halting a moment in
his work, and raising himself to his fullest height, which, as the
firelight danced on his gigantic form, seemed to add vastness to that
which was vast already.  "Listen to me, Khamis, young son of Khamis bin
Abdullah; the Warori are bad, as you heard Moto say, but the Warori are
men, and I have heard a good Nazarene, one of the white men at Zanzibar,
say that all men are equal.  If the Warori are men, and are lords of
their own soil, and if Arabs trouble them, or will not do them justice,
what great wrong are the Warori guilty of if they fight; and if they
catch Arabs prisoners in war, why should they not treat them as the
Arabs would treat the Warori?  Answer me that."

"Why, Simba," asked the eldest of the sons of Mussoud, "do you know what
the sacred Kuran says?  I remember what the good Imam has told me often:
`_Verily the fruit of the trees of Al Zakkum shall be the food of the
unbelievers, as the dregs of oil shall it boil in the bellies of the
damned, like the boiling of the hottest water.  When ye encounter the
unbelievers strike off their heads until ye have made a great slaughter
among them, and bind them in bonds, and either give them a free
dismission afterwards or exact a ransom, until the war shall have laid
down its arms_.'  And in another place the Kuran says, according to the
holy and learned Imam, `_And as to those who fight in defence of God's
true religion, God will not suffer their works to perish; he will guide
them, and will dispose their heart aright; and he will lead them into
paradise, of which he hath told them_.'"

"There, Simba," said Isa, triumphantly, "what do you think now of slaves
and true believers?  Do you not think it right for us to take and
capture those who waylay us, and make them slaves for their perfidy and
savagery?"

"I think the same as before," answered Simba.  "I do not know the Kuran
so well as Abdullah, it is true, but I know that the same God who gave
you sense and feeling gave the savages of Urori some sense and feeling
as well; but I should like to know what my young master Selim's thoughts
are upon these subjects."

"To tell you the simple truth would be to tell you that I never thought
much of these things," answered Selim, in a mild tone.  "My father has
slaves, and my relations own a great number.  They are all well looked
after, and I have never heard that they were much astonished at their
condition.  I have seen slaves punished and killed; but they had done
wrong, and they deserved their punishment.  Neither my father nor my
relations ever gave me to suppose that by keeping slaves they were
committing wrong, and you surely cannot expect me, who am but a boy and
the son of my father, to say anything against my elders.  Whatever Amer
bin Osman does is right; at least, so I have heard men say, and shall I,
his son, judge him?"

"Bravely spoken," said the impetuous Khamis, "Bravely said, my brother
Selim; but, instead of speaking to Simba as thou hast done, thou
shouldst have taken thy kurbash (whip) to him, and taught the dog to
watch the doorstep of his master, and not be teaching the son of Amer."

"You are over hasty, Khamis," replied Selim, in a deprecating tone.
"Simba is good and true to me and to my father's household.  My father
loves him, and I love him, black though he be, as if he were my brother.
Simba and Moto are worth their weight in the yellow metal which our
women love to adorn their necks with; yet, did it depend on my voice, a
thousand times their weight of gold would not purchase them."

Both Simba and Moto were so affected at this that they both fell on
their knees, and crawled up to their young master to embrace his feet,
thus testifying the great love they bore him; but Selim would not permit
this, and said:

"Nay, my good Simba, and you, Moto, rise.  I think you men, not slaves,
and you need not kiss my feet to show me how much you love me.  You are
my friends, and I shall ever esteem you as such."

"My good young master," said Simba, in a voice broken with emotion, "we
are your servants, and we are proud of it.  Are we not, Moto?"

"Indeed, we are," said Moto.

"What Arab tribe can boast a lad of your years with so much beauty and
heart?  Your eyes, young master, are blacker than the richest, ripest
singwe (a species of wild plume) of Urundi, and as large as those of the
sportive kalulu (young antelope); and when they are covered with your
eyelids, we have often compared them while you were asleep, and Moto and
I watched you, to the lotus which hides its beauty at eve from the fell
touch of night.  And your flesh, though not white like the bloodless
pale children of the white races, is like the warmer colour of ivory,
and beautiful and clear as the polished ivory ornaments of my people in
Urundi: your limbs, clean and shapely, are firm and hard as ivory tusks.
You are like a young palm-tree in beauty and strength.  He is a happy
man who calls you son, and your mother laughs for joy in her sleep when
she dreams of you.  Your slaves are proud to call you master."

"Amen, and amen," responded Moto, while tears descended his cheeks.
"Simba has spoken nothing but the truth; he never utters lies.  Master
Selim knows what Simba and Moto say they mean.  Evil cannot approach him
while we are near, nor can danger lurk unseen.  Rocks shall not wound
his feet, neither shall thorns prick his tender skin.  If the journey is
long Simba is as strong as a camel, and Moto is fleet of foot as the
zebra, and enduring as the wild ass of Unyamwezi.  Moto has spoken."

"Eh, Khamis, and thou, lea, hear and understand," said Selim, smiling.
"Where is the Arab who does not love the Nedjid mare, which partakes of
his food, as the wife of his bosom?  But in Simba and Moto I have two
faithful friends.  I have a camel, a zebra, and an ass, and you tell me
to beat them, Khamis.  Fie, boy!"

"Boy, indeed!  I am older than thou, and taller and stronger.  Thou art
a child, or thou wouldst not believe the fulsome words of these lying
knaves.  I have seen the world more than thou hast, and I assure thee on
my head I never saw the black man yet who could keep his hands from
stealing and his evil tongue from lying.  I--Khamis, the son of Khamis,
the son of Abdullah--know whereof I am speaking."

"What a dear little child he is, to be sure!" laughed Isa.  "Is it
Selim, the son of Amer, whose eyes are like the singwe of Urundi, and
whose limbs are like ivory?  Eh, Khamis, my brother?  Is Selim, the son
of Amer, turned a girl, that his ears court such music?  And if thou art
of the complexion of ivory, what are we, I wonder--I, Isa, son of
Mohammed, and Khamis, son of Khamis?"

While Selim was blushing crimson from shame at the mocking words of Isa,
little Abdullah spoke up, and said, much to everybody's amusement except
Isa's:

"Why, Isa, dost thou mean to say that Selim is not good-looking?  I have
often heard my father, Sheikh Mohammed, say he wished I was as
good-looking as Selim the son of Amer, though he thought I was every bit
as good.  And, lea--now--don't be angry.  I--I don't think thee
good-looking at all.  Thou art almost as black as Simba, and--"

"Liar!" thundered Isa, directing a blow at Abdullah, which was happily
warded by Khamis, who, though ever-ready to lift the whip against stupid
slaves, was averse to see an Arab beaten.  Isa, however, darting behind
Khamis aimed another blow at Abdullah; but Abdullah, probably seeing
that he was very angry, and would strike a serious blow, took to his
heels running round the fire, chased by the infuriate Isa.  As Isa
passed near one side of the fire, Niani, the little negro boy called
Monkey, who had hitherto been very quiet, seeing a chance to assist
Abdullah, who had praised Selim, thrust his foot forward; and Isa, too
much occupied in watching the manoeuvres of Abdullah, struck his shins
against the obstacle, and came heavily to the ground.

A shout of laughter greeted his fall; but the amusement of Selim was
soon changed to real concern as he saw that Isa had quickly recovered
himself, and had sprung upon Niani, and catching hold of him by the
throat and legs, was carrying him to the great log-fire, to warm him, as
he said.

Niani struggled and screamed, but in vain.  Isa's ears were closed
against a little slave's cries, and he would probably have made good his
threat had not Selim, Khamis, and Mussoud, aided by Simba and Moto,
interfered, and cried out, "Enough, enough, son of Mohammed.  Be not
wrathful with a little slave."

As Arabs dislike to see scuffling, or at least always interfere in cases
of this kind, it is not to be wondered at Khamis taking the part of
Niani, or Simba and Moto exerting their manhood to prevent cruelty; but
Niani was not released scot-free; he received several energetic slaps
and kicks, which accelerated his departure to a safer distance.

This incident broke up the meeting.  Simba and Moto withdrew to their
mats on each side of their master Amer's tent.  Khamis, Isa, and Mussoud
retired to their respective parents' tents, and Selim entered the tent
of Amer bin Osman.

Sheikh Amer was seated on his mat in the tent, writing by the light of a
single tallow candle on a large broad sheet of stiff white paper; but as
Selim entered he put his papers by, and bending on his son an earnest
and melancholy look, said:

"My son, light of my soul and joy of my heart, come to me, and do thou
sit by me that I may feel thy cheery presence.  Dost thou know that my
soul feels heavy to-night, as if some great affliction was about to
visit me?"

"And what, my father," replied the boy, bending a loving look on him,
"couldst thou fear?  Art thou not surrounded by kind friends and
servants who love thee as their father?"

"Nay, my son, it is not fear that I feel, but a vague foreshadowing of
evil which none can feel save those who have much to lose.  On whose
head the evil will fall I know not, nor do I know from what direction
the evil may come; but that evil is nigh in some indistinct shape or
another my soul knows, and it is that which has cast this passing cloud
over it.  But let us speak of other subjects.  I have been occupied in
writing letters to Zanzibar to my friends, telling them of the new route
these wayward companions of ours have adopted, and giving directions
about the disposition of my property.  Thou knowest, Selim, my child,
how I have always loved thee and treated thee, for thou art my hope and
joy, and I may not hide it from thee.  Should accident happen to me it
will be well for me to warn thee now that thou hast an uncle from whom
may Allah guard thee.  He is a deep, designing man, though he is my
brother.  Should I die, thy uncle will endeavour to do thee harm, and it
is against him I wish to guard thee."

"But, father Amer, what harm can my uncle do me, and why should he wrong
me, who have never done him wrong in word, or thought, or deed?" asked
Selim, surprised at the tone of his father's voice and this revelation.

"Thou art but a child of tender years and but little aware of the amount
of wickedness in this world.  Thy uncle is an avaricious man, who would
rob thee of thy birthright could he do it, and I believe him to be bad
enough to injure thee in some covert way if it were possible.  My
property amounts to about fifty thousand dollars in slaves and land, and
if I die, this property, by right of thy birth as eldest son, is thine
wholly, and under no condition or restraint.  Wert thou and thy mother
to die it would become the property of my brother Bashid, who is a
cunning and unscrupulous man."

"Thou dost surprise me, my father; but thou art well, and in good hopes
of a long life.  I hope thou wilt live a thousand years; I am happy only
in being thy son," answered Selim.

"I know it, my son; and if ever a dutiful child made the years of his
father seem light, I have that child in thee, but it is well to be
provident for those whom we love.  For the rest, the will of God be
done.  There is another subject I wished to converse with thee upon, and
that is thy marriage.  Dost thou know Leilah?"

"What!  Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah?" asked Selim.

"The same," answered Amer.

"Surely, I know her.  Have we not played together when we were children,
and, now I bethink me, she is the loveliest girl at Zanzibar."

"It is well," said Amer.  "Leilah, the daughter of Khamis bin Abdullah
is wedded to thee, and the settlements are made between friend Khamis
and myself.  Should evil happen to me--which God forefend--on thy return
to Zanzibar, if thou art of age, seek thou Khamis or, in Khamis's
absence, his kinsmen, and claim thou thy wife according unto the custom
of thy tribe.  I have prepared this future for thee that thou mayst not,
like the degenerate Arabs at Zanzibar, seek a wife among strangers to
thy race and tribe, and bring disgrace upon the name of my father Osman.
Thy kinsmen are proud and belong to the pure Arab race, and they would
not think well of my memory if I had neglected to warn thee of thy duty
to me and the tribe of which Osman was so loved.  Bear thou my words in
thy mind, write them upon the tablets of thy heart, and obey.  Dost thou
promise?"

"As God liveth, and as thy soul liveth," responded Selim earnestly, "to
hear is to obey.  I shall cherish as a holy thing thy wish."

"Then do thou retire and rest.  These papers are to be committed to the
care of two of my servants, who will return to Zanzibar to-morrow, when
they will, upon arrival, present them to the Imam.  God shield thee from
evil, and may He avert it always from all of us," said Amer, as he
resumed his work.

"Amen and amen!" replied Selim; and, after embracing his father, he
quietly retired to his carpet to sleep the sleep of the innocent and
young.

At early dawn next morning the horns of the several kirangozis, or
guides, of the respective caravans blew loud and cheerily, calling on
all to prepare for the march.

Before an hour had elapsed, the tents had been struck and folded, and
each carrier, bearing his burden of cloth or beads (which were to be
used for barter for ivory with the tribes in the far interior, or were,
in the meanwhile, to purchase food as the caravan journeyed) or bearing
the beds, and carpets, and rugs, cooking utensils, and despatch-boxes,
was following his leaders as he stepped out briskly for the march.

The Arab chiefs remained behind to bring up the rear, and then, giving
their rifles in charge to their gun-bearers or favourite slaves,
followed on the road their caravans had taken.

The country before them broke out into knolls and tall cone-like hills,
whose slopes were covered with here and there patches of dense jungle,
or nourished young forests whose umbrage formed a most grateful shade
during the heat of day.

Soon they had passed the healthy, breezy hills which are but offshoots
of the Uruguru range, and the land now eloped before them into the low,
flat basin of the Wami river, which during the rainy season becomes one
great swamp.

But the season, at the time our travellers passed over the Makata
Plain--as the basin is called--was soon after the effects of the violent
monsoon had disappeared, in July, when the land presents an unusually
bleached appearance; the grass is crispy, ripe, and extremely dry, the
ground is seamed with ugly rents and gape, and the rivers, Little Makata
and Mbengerenga, are but little better than small rivulets.  The
caravans were therefore enabled to cross the breadth of the Makata Plain
within two days, and arrived at Mbumi in Usagara on the evening of the
second day.

From Mbumi, in the same order as before, avoiding the Mukondokwa Yalley,
the steep passes of Bubeho, and the desolate, forlorn-looking plains of
Ugogo, the lengthy file of men--carriers, soldiers, and slaves--skirted
the eastern end of the Mukondokwa range, and on the third day from
Simbamwenni, arrived in a country which differed materially in aspect
from that which they had just left.  Mountains of a loftier altitude, in
peak upon peak, in tier upon tier, range upon range, met the eye
everywhere.  Green trees covered their slopes in an apparently endless
expanse of vegetation.  The sycamore, the tamarind, the beautiful mimosa
and kolqual vied with each other in height and beauty, while a thousand
other trees, shrubs, plants, and flowers aided to give verdancy and
freshness to the scene.

Down the hard, steep, rocky beds of granite and sandstone, with here and
there basalt and porphyry, flint, and quartz, foamed the sparkling
streams, which, when encountered on an African journey, give zest to the
travel and add something to the pleasures of memory.  A deep gaping
fissure in a high jutting wall of rock, through which bubbled the clear
water in volumes, or a great towering rock, with perpendicular walls, to
which clung, despite the apparent impossibility, ferns, and plants, and
moss, thick and velvety, or a conical hill, which ambitiously hid its
head in clouds, were scenes to be treasured up when the march should
hereafter become monotonous through excessive sameness of feature.

When they were in camp and had rested, our young friends went into
raptures over the bold beauty of mountain scenery, and Belim, and
Abdullah, and Mussoud were constantly heard uttering their exclamations
of admiration.  Selim especially, imbued as he was with the religious
faith of his father, was filled with a loftier feeling than that
youthful glow and exhilaration which his companions felt.  Had he the
power, he would like to have poured out his soul in fervid verse about
the grandeur, the indescribable beauty of Nature in her wildest and most
prolific mood.  But being as yet a boy, in whom the poetic instinct and
feeling is strong, he said to his father, one day, as the scenery was
unusually picturesque:

"Hast thou ever, my father, during these days of travel over these great
mountain-tops, thought that Palestine, the promised land, must be
something like this?  The land flowing with milk and honey.  Why, honey
is already plentiful here--we need but the cows to furnish milk; but if
milk means the richness of earth, the never-dying fertility of the soil,
look but once on this view now before us, and tell me, think you
Palestine can be richer than this?  Why, I feel--I do not exactly know
what--but it is something that if I have never been good or thankful to
Allah for his goodness to men, that I could be good for ever in future.
Do you understand this feeling, father Amer, or is it singular in me?"

"No, it is not singular, my dear son; but go on, tell me what is in thy
mind," replied Sheikh Amer, himself gazing on the revealed might of
Nature.

"I have also a feeling--as if I knew it for the first time--that this
earth is large, very large, that it is immense, without limit or
boundary, and that, consequently, God, who made all this, must be truly
great.  With the mountain air which I now inhale I seem to have imbibed
something purer, more subtle; yet that thing is capable of giving me
more expansion.  Why was it that, before coming to these mountains, I
never thought upon this subject?  Why was it that, before to-day, I had
no one thought of what might happen to-morrow, beyond what might happen
to our caravan, or beyond what I should see on the road?  Yet at this
moment, though my eyes seem to rest upon this view of loveliness, I know
I do not look upon its details or any particular object, but they seem
to drink it all with one look, and more, infinitely more, than is
contained in the area before me.  I seem to have eyes in my mind which
have a keener sight, more extended vision, greater power than the eyes
of my head, which can see so far, and no farther.  Yet to the sight of
the inner eyes, which see not, yet can see a thousand times vaster
scene, a thousand times greater prospect is revealed.  Hills, dales,
mountains, plains, valleys, forests, rivers, lakes, seas, all lovely,
and lovelier than what we see now, are comprehended within the scope of
my hidden and unseen eyes.  What is this new sight or feeling, my
father?  Canst thou tell me?"

"Ah, my child, it is simply the awakening of the hitherto latent mind;
or thought, exercised by but a faint experience, has been touched by
Nature, and begins to dawn," replied Amer.  "God had endowed thee with
the power of thought and of mind when he gave thee life.  It was
impossible that it could remain for ever hidden.  The hour that a child
begins to exercise his mind seeth him advanced a step nearer to manhood.
It will kindle and expand as thou growest in years, and in each day's
march thou wilt find fresh food for it.  It remains with God and thine
own nature to improve it with every breath of air thy lungs inhale.  By
diligently reading the Kuran and studying the precepts of Mohammed--
blessed be his name!--thou wilt so protect that thought pure from evil
as the tiny germ God implanted in thy breast at thy birth."

"But tell me, father, one thing--it is different from that which thou
hast been just telling me," asked Selim.  "Thou knowest Simba and Moto
are thy slaves.  Is it right, or is it not, to own slaves?"

"It is right, certainly, my son.  The Kuran sanctions it, and it has
been a custom from of old with our race to own slaves.  What has
prompted thee to such a question?  Is it another sign of the growth of
thy mind?" his father asked, with a smile.

"I know not," replied Selim, bending his head like one who hesitated to
speak his mind or was unable to comprehend the drift of his own thought.
"But thou knowest Simba and Moto are good; they love thyself and me
exceedingly, and as I know better than others that thou art just, and
lovest justice for its own sake, wouldst thou think it right to retain
thy slaves in bondage if they thought it injustice to them?"

"Ha! where is it possible thou couldst have gained such ideas, child?
But, never mind, since thy thoughts run so wild, I will answer thee,"
replied Amer.  "No, it is not right in me, or any living man, to retain
a slave in his possession, if the slave thinks it injustice, or if his
slavery galls him; neither is it fair that, after I have purchased him
with my money, I should give him his liberty for the mere asking; but
strict justice would demand that I set a price of money on his head, or
a term of labour equivalent to the money I paid for him; and, on the
payment of such money, or on the conclusion of such labour, that he be
for ever freed from bondage.  So says the Kuran, and such is our law,
and such has been my practice, and I would advise thee to do likewise
when the time shall come."

"I thank thee, my father; it is all clear to me now.  But stop! harken
to that sound!  What may that be?  Can it be the hyaena?"

"Yes, the hyaenas are out early this evening.  They are hungry; but,
Selim, my son, haste to tell Simba and Moto to set the tent on that flat
piece of ground near that great tree, and bid them to be sure to turn
the door of the tent to-day towards the east."

"Yes, my father;" and Selim, the fleet-footed youth, agile as a young
leopard, leaped over several bushes, as he ran to do his parent's
bidding.

The camp was situated on a limited terrace or shelf of ground rising
above a body of water which more resembled a long narrow lake than a
river.  Yet it was the river Lofu, or Rufu, as some call it, which in
the dry season, like many an African river, loses its current, and
becomes a series of long narrow pools, which in some places may be
compared to lakes for their length, according to the nature of the
ground wherein these depressions are found.  If the ground is rocky, or
of clayey mud, the water is retained, instead of being absorbed, in
which swarm multitudes of the _silurus_, or bearded mud-fish.  Wherever
mud-fish are abundant, crocodiles, the great fish-eating reptiles of the
African water, are sure to be found; and wherever crocodiles are found
one is almost sure to find the hippopotamus, the behemoth of Scripture;
not because crocodiles and hippopotami have any affinity with each
other, but because the soil, which retains the water during the hot days
of the droughty season, is almost sure to produce in the vicinity of the
pools abundance of rich grass and tall cane, the food of the
hippopotamus.

About two hours before sunset, soon after camping, Selim, accompanied by
Simba and two other men, named Baruti and Mombo, sallied out of the camp
with his faithful rifle on his shoulder to hunt for game.

The party travelled towards the upper end of the narrow lake the caravan
had camped by.  Matete cane, spear, and tiger grass, in profusion, grew
near this end, and beyond lay a thin jungle, the borders of which
touched the water line.  It was to this jungle they directed their
steps, for Simba had judged that it was a promising place for such sport
as Selim desired.

When the party arrived in the jungle they found the place so
delightfully cool, that they could not resist the inclination to rest
awhile and cool themselves after the labour and toil of going through
the long grass.

Simba and Selim sought the deeper shade of a mammoth and far-spreading
tamarind tree, while Baruti sought a place about thirty yards from the
tamarind, and Mombo, fatigued with the long journey over the mountains
that day, reclined under a young mimosa near the water's edge.

The coolness of the retreat, the silence which prevailed, and the
weariness which had come over their tired frames soon induced sleep.

They had not been in this condition long, before the reader, had he or
she been there surveying the scene, might have heard the faintest sound
of a ripple on the water, and have seen a crocodile's head stealthily
rise above the surface, the eyes, cold and fixed, gazing over the
slightly protuberant nose, to the spot where Mombo lay.  A few minutes
the crocodile thus lay still as a heavy sappy log, more than
three-fourths buried in the water, but almost imperceptibly the heavy
body became buoyant, until the lengthy form, with great ridgy scales
marking the line of its spine, lay half uncovered.  Without a movement
of the long powerful tail, and with but the faintest motion of his
heavy, broad, short legs, he propelled himself towards the shore.

A minute he rested there, still as death.  One could not have sworn that
it was an animal, though one might have been sure, provided no one
suggested a cause for doubt.  He then lifted his long head, but with the
same cautious movement which always characterises this stealthy,
cowardly creature of the African deeps, then his enormously long body,
until he resembled a huge log, propped up by four short pins--the legs
appeared so out of proportion.  Anybody at first glance would have seen
that in the great, unwieldy form lay tremendous power.  The trunk of the
largest elephant that was ever born would not equal in size that long
tail, which seemed, on account of its length and weight, slightly bent
towards the ground at the tip.

Having again halted, he moved forward silently, with a slightly waddling
motion; and as he approached the sleeping form of Mombo, his movements
were as slow and cautious as those of a leopard before springing upon
its prey; but the monster made one hurried, convulsive movement forward,
the lower jaw was run under the sleeping man's leg, and the upper jaw
came down with a sound like a well-oiled and sound steel spring, and the
crocodile swung the limp, warm body around, as a man would swing a cat
by the tail.  But this swinging movement proved to be poor Mombo's
salvation, for he was thus swung against a strong young tree, to which
he now clung with the strong tenacity of a man who clings for life,
while he gave vent to the full power of his lungs in cries so alarming
and shrill that they were heard at the camp of the caravans two miles
off.  Selim, Simba, and Baruti realised the scene in an instant; they
saw the great reptile, horrible and hideous as a nightmare, tugging
violently at the leg of the unfortunate man, whose screams pierced their
ears, and whose arms almost cracked as he held on with such a fierce
grip to the strong young sapling, and they saw that had it not been for
its fortunate proximity to him they had never seen Mombo more.

Simba was the first to recover himself, for Selim and Baruti stood as
men transfixed.

"Now, master," said he, "your gun--quick! or he will run away.  Aim at
once; but be cool, or you will kill Mombo.  Aim just at his throat, as
you see his head lifted up.  There, son of Amer, you have slain the
brute!  Ah! he is trying to escape.  Hyah! on, Baruti; your spear, man!
Run! come with me, and catch hold of his tall.  Two of us can hold him,
I think, or delay him at least until he dies.  There--take that, you
beast!" he shouted as he hurled his broad-bladed spear full through his
side, behind the fore leg, into his vitals, which stretched the monster
lifeless after one or two convulsive efforts.

Baruti, encouraged by Simba's powerful voice, which roared through the
wood in accents so cheery, had at first boldly dashed at the crocodile's
tail; but receiving a tremendous thwack on his side from the mighty
tail, which was swung about as though it were a well-handled flail--
which almost fractured every rib in his body--now stood by, looking
fearfully punished and sore.

When the monster had ceased to breathe, Selim and Simba, attracted by
the moans of Mombo, hastened to him to examine his condition.

"Poor fellow!" said Selim.  "See Simba, the leg is stripped to the bone.
What a savage reptile the crocodile is!  Do you think Mombo will live,
Simba?  For after this I should not like to see him die; it would seem
as if my big bullet had done no good after all."

"He will live, Inshallah!  Inshallah!  (Please God!  Please God!)  Mombo
will live to tell the story to his children on the island when he is an
old man and past work.  You know the hakim (doctor) with us is wise and
learned, and, Inshallah!  Mombo, after a few days, will be all right.
Sho!  Mombo die?  No, master; Mombo will live to laugh at this.  But we
must carry him to the camp that the hakim may dress his wounds.  Come,
Baruti, man--cease your cries.  Take your hatchet and cut young straight
trees down while I prepare some rope whereon Mombo may be carried.  You,
young master, may cut a piece of the crocodile's tail to show your
father Amer, who will be proud of what you have done."

They all three set to work.  Baruti cut two young trees, which he
barked.  Simba made use of the bark as rope, and in a short time a
comfortable bed had been made, on which Mombo was carefully lifted, and,
in a few moments, Selim having secured his trophy, the three friends set
out briskly on their return to camp.

Young Selim, who had "bagged" his first game, was highly gratified by
the praise bestowed on him by his father and his father's people, and
the braggart Isa was the only one of his boy-fellows who refused to say
a kind word in commendation of the feat.  Noble young Khamis, on the
other hand, did not stint his appreciation of it, and youthful Abdullah
and Mussoud hung about Selim as though he were some suddenly-discovered
hero.  The chieftain Khamis bin Abdullah, the noble leader of the united
caravans, took from his waist a gold-hafted curved dagger as a token of
his esteem, and Sheikh Mohammed presented him with a crimson silk sash
to put around his waist.  Sultan bin Ali, the patriarch of the
expedition, who was the very type of a venerable Arab chief, gave him
out of his treasure a red fez-cap with a golden tassel, and Sheikh
Mussoud gave him a Muscat turban of a rich cherry pattern, so that
Selim, before night, was arrayed in costly garments.

The slaves among themselves did Selim honour by praising him around the
camp-fires, and Halimah, the black woman-cook of Amer bin Osman, as she
turned her ugali (porridge), declared, by this and by that, that Selim
was the noblest, sweetest lad she had ever seen.

Selim would have slept that night the sleep of those who do praiseworthy
actions, had he not been awakened at midnight by a loud shriek from one
of his father's slaves, whose right cheek was completely ripped off by a
prowling hyaena.  The disturbance in the dead hour of night alarmed some
of the younger slaves, but they were calmed by the wise and experienced
Moto, who said sententiously that "the hyaena is a cowardly brute, who
would run away at the sight of a child in the daytime, and who could
only fight sleeping or dead men."

After these incidents, which occurred at the stagnant pools of the Lofu,
the caravans continued, their march uninterruptedly until they arrived
among the Wahehe, a tribe of predatory people who live south of the
great arid plain country of Ugogo.

The first night, before going to sleep after their arrival in Uhehe, the
kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah rose up at the command of his master--
and spoke out in a loud voice to the united caravans:

"Words, words, words!  Listen, ye children of the Arabs, sons of the
great chiefs, Khamis bin Abdullah, Amer bin Osman, Sultan bin Ali, the
Sheikhs Mussoud, Abdullah, Bashid, Hamdan, Thani, and Nasib!  Open your
ears, ye people of Zanzibar!  Ye are among the Wahehe.  Ye are in the
land of thieves, and night-prowlers.  Be wary and alert, my friends;
sleep with one eye open; let not your hands forget your guns.  When ye
meet the prowling Wahehe in your camps at night, shoot and kill all
such.  Do ye hear?"

"We do," was answered by six hundred voices.

"Do ye understand?" he again asked.

"Yes," they all replied.

"It is well; the kirangozi Kingaru, slave of Khamis bin Abdullah, has
spoken."

For two days they travelled through Uhehe without molestation, but on
the evening of the third day Sheikh Amer commanded his tent-pitchers to
set his tent close against the hedge of brush and thorn (which always
surrounds a camp in Africa when it is procurable), for the convenience
of his household, the members of which could thus by a slight gap pass
in and out freely to the pool to get water or to procure wood for the
fire, without being compelled to traverse the length of the camp.

A couple of hours before dawn, when people sleep heaviest, and their
slumbers are supposed to be soundest, Simba, who always slept lightly at
night, because of the responsible cares which a just and faithful
conscience ever imposed on him, was awakened by the crushing of a twig.
He never stirred, but continued his regular breathing as before, and
compelled his ears to do their duty to the utmost.  After a little time
his quickened hearing was rewarded by the sound of a human foot pressing
softly, yet heavily, the ground near him.  The gap, left imprudently
open, which fronted the tent-door of Amer bin Osman, was that to which
his cautious gaze was directed.  By the light of the stars, which shine
in Africa with unusual light, he saw the very faintest resemblance to a
human figure, which held in one hand something darker than its own body,
yet not so long, and in the other a long staff, at one end of which
there was a cold glimmer of faint light, or reflection of light, which
he supposed at once, and rightly, to be a spear.  That human figure was
that of an intruder.  A friend had never stood so long in that gap, or
advanced so stealthily.  A wild beast would have advanced with as much
circumspection and caution--why not a human enemy?  The instincts of
both man and beast are the same in the silence of night, when about to
act hostilely.

Simba still lay seemingly unconscious of duty--unconscious of the danger
which menaced the occupants of his master's tent; but could that human
enemy have seen through the gloomy mist of night those large, watchful
eyes of the recumbent form stretched almost within reach of him, he had
surely hesitated before advancing another step towards that open
tent-door.

All seemed still, and the figure bent down and moved in a crawling
posture towards the open door, wherein lay Selim and his father,
unconscious of the dangerous presence of an armed intruder.  But Simba's
eyes were not idle, though silent.  What thing on earth does its work so
quietly as the eye?  They followed the crawling form unwinkingly, until
it had half entered the open door; then Simba raised his head, finally
his body, upright to its full gigantic height.  The feet of the daring
intruder were within tempting reach of those long muscular arms if he
but stooped, and Simba knew it.  He stood up one short second or so, as
if he summoned threefold strength with the lungful of air he but halted
to inhale; then quickly stooping, he caught hold of the robber's feet,
and giving utterance to a loud triumphant cry, swung him two or three
times around his head, and dashed his head against the great flat stone
on which, a few hours before, the woman-cook, Halimah, had ground her
master's corn, and then tossed him lifeless over the hedge of the camp
as carrion!!

In an instant, as it were, the camp was awake, and fires burned brightly
everywhere.  The cause of the disturbance was soon made known all over
the camp, and curious men came rushing by the score to the scene of the
tragedy, to gaze upon the victim of his own savage lust for plunder or
murder.  Amer bin Osman, when he heard the explanation of Simba, took a
torch, and followed by Selim and others, went to gaze upon the dead man.
One look satisfied him that the man was a Mhehe, who had armed himself
with a long oval-shaped shield, broad-bladed spear, and battle-axe, for
a desperate enterprise.

When Amer raised his head, he seemed to be studying what the intention
of the man might have been, and he retraced his steps backwards to the
tent-door, and looked in, as if to consider what might have been done,
or stolen, had he succeeded in his attempt.  Then, looking at Selim's
pale face, who had also arrived at the same opinion as his father, a
grateful look stole over his features; he said to his son with a smile:

"Well, boy, thou hast to thank Simba for thy safety, for thy head lay
uncomfortably near that door; and hadst thou awakened, thy life had not
been worth much.  What hast thou to say to Simba, Selim?"

The boy turned his large bright eyes upon Simba's face, which glowed
with honest pride and affection, and then they measured the giant limbs,
the tremendous arms, and the broad heaving chest, and to his father's
question propounded another, which rather startled his father:

"Simba is a great strong man, but whom dost thou value more, father--thy
son Selim or thy slave Simba?"

"Why, son of mine, what a question!  Art thou not the child of my loins,
and of my dear Amina? and have I ever failed in my love for thee?"

"Never--no, never, dear father; but Simba has given thy son back again
to thee, else had I been dead.  Has Simba paid thee full valuation for
the purchase-money thou didst pay for him when he was a child?"

"Simba is good; but had I lost thee, I had surely lost all.  Thou hast
said it, my child.  Simba is free, and is no longer a slave of Amer bin
Osman."

"Simba!" cried Selim, "good Simba, do you hear the words of my father?
You are a man, and no longer a slave!"

Simba at first did not seem to comprehend the full meaning of the words
addressed to him, but as the words of the boy whose life he had saved
were repeated to him, a proud smile lit his features, and as he tossed
his head back, while his nostrils dilated, he said:

"A slave!  It is an ugly word; but Simba, of the Wahuma, of Urundi, was
in his own mind never a slave, so the word troubled him.  Simba might
long ago have been free, had he wished it, but he loved his master,
Amer, and Sheikh Amer's son; so he remained their servant, and while
being their servant he never forgot that he was a man.  Simba is
grateful to Amer and his son Selim, and while he remembers that he is
free, Simba will be happy only in remembering also that he is their
servant;" saying which, he bent his knee and kissed the right hand of
father and son.

"Ah, Simba, my friend!" cried Selim, "I shall call thee friend in
future, and thou shalt say `thou' to me, and I `thou' to thee, as my
father and I say to each other; and if thou art grateful, Selim has also
a heart, and can feel."

"Then, boys," said Amer, breaking in upon this interchange of
compliments, "to bed, and sleep your sleep out.  Let a watch be kept,
lest the Wahehe robbers come to avenge the dead dog of a thief, and upon
the first appearance of anything suspicious, sound the alarm instantly."

The night passed without further alarm or disturbance of any kind, and
at the usual hour of the morning the signal horns aroused the camp for
the fatigue of another day's march.

As the caravans were about leaving their camp, a group of Wahehe
strolled up carelessly, similarly armed to the one who had met his fate
so suddenly at the hands of Simba.  As they were advancing towards the
central gate of the camp, their quick eyes caught sight of the dead body
of their comrade, and hastening towards it, they regarded it with wonder
depicted on their faces.  On stooping down to examine the head, they
found it elongated into a hideous, formless shape, and not being able to
contain their surprise, they questioned as to why and how it all came
about.

Said Moto, who had keenly noted these signs, and had approached the
group to answer their expected queries, "Ah, my brothers! some men are
bad, very bad, and fools.  What could have possessed this man to try and
rob a caravan of 600 armed souls, I cannot say, unless it was the evil
spirit.  Do you see that big man with the great battle-axe in his belt,
and a long ivory horn slung to his shoulder?  That big man caught this
thief in the tent of Amer bin Osman: he seized him by the feet, and
whirling him around, he brought his head down flat on that stone."

"Eyah! eyah!" said the astonished Wahehe.  "He must be the evil spirit
himself; but all thieves should die, and if, as you say, this man was
caught at night in the camp, he has earned his death."

"Say you so, my brothers?" said Moto; "then it is well.  But listen to
me; if the wind came to steal in our camp that big man would know it.
He seems never to sleep, never to rest; he could smell a Mhehe at night
afar off."

"Eyah, eyah, ey-eyah!!  He must be the evil spirit."  Saying which they
departed, muttering to themselves and looking very much crestfallen.

The caravans journeyed on for several days after the incidents just
related without meeting anything worthy of note in these pages.  The
western part of Uhehe is very uninteresting; one march follows another
through the same _triste_ scenery.  A long reach of country to the right
and the left, covered with short ripe grass, dotted with a ragged clump
of thorn-bush here and there, or a solitary baobab stem, unbending in
its vast girth and thickness of twigs, alone met the wearied eyes of the
travellers.  The Wahehe, the southern Wagogo, mixed with a stray Wakimbu
family or two, permitted such a large caravan to pass without
molestation, so that the march was getting exceedingly monotonous.  But
when, after crossing an unusually arid plain of some extent, they saw
before them a long line of white rocky bluffs, the people began to
whisper among themselves that "beyond those bluffs lay the lands of the
populous Warori, who are mostly shepherds, and will not, if in the mood
to quarrel, regard our numbers or strength."

It was the tenth week of the departure of the Arabs from Simbamwenni
when the above-mentioned bluffs were crossed, and the pastoral country
of the Warori extended far before them in a succession of wooded
hollows, bare uplands, and jungle-covered plains.

Those who knew Moto, the slave of Amer bin Osman, were startled at the
remarkable physical resemblance he bore to the majority of the shepherds
and villagers, who grouped themselves along the road to wonder at the
wealth of the Arab caravans, and to make their rustic comments upon what
they did not understand.

The Warori, however, did not seem disposed to dispute their advance, but
stood contentedly gazing at the strange sight of some of the whiter
faces among the Arabs.  For instance, Khamis bin Abdullah and his son
Khamis, Amer bin Osman and his son Selim, and the boys Abdullah and
Mussoud.  This paleness of complexion became often a matter of eager
speculation, and as those who, fortunately or unfortunately, possessed
white faces passed by, the straining of eyes and the narrow scrutiny
were amusing to witness, and afforded Selim more especially some
discomfort at first.  The shepherds and villagers furthermore willingly
bartered whatever the Arabs wished for red beads and American domestic.
Milk, butter, and eggs were plentiful, which, to the Arab boys, were
rare treats after the dry heat and desolate aspect of Western Uhehe.
The arms which these shepherds carried were far more formidable than
anything they had hitherto seen in the hands of savages.  Their bows
were longer and heavier, and their arrows longer and more cruelly
barbed, and besides a lengthy broad-bladed spear, which resembled a
broad Roman sword fastened to a staff, and half a dozen lighter spears--
assegais--and a battle-axe, they carried a knife which might be likened
to a broadsword for length and breadth.

On the sixth day after their entrance into Urori, the caravans came
within sight of a large palisaded village called Kwikuru, or the
capital.  It contained about eight hundred huts, strongly protected by a
lofty fence of hard red wood.  This Tillage was protected on one side by
a stream of considerable magnitude.  On the other side of the village
was a grove of fine trees situated from it a distance of about 1000
yards.  Into this grove the Arabs marched to encamp.

Kwikuru, or the capital, was a good distinction awarded to the village,
or town rather, for its size and importance; for, next to Simbamwenni,
it was the most populous place they had found in Africa.  Cattle grazed
by the thousand a little distance off from the grove, attended by
watchful and well-armed herdsmen.  The lowing of the cows, and the
bleating of the sheep and goats, and the braying of a few large donkeys,
were welcome sounds to travellers, to whom such sights in Africa were
rare.  And the long extent of well-tilled ground, in which grew the
Indian corn, the manioc, the _holcus sorghum_, the sugar-cane, and
plantain, with abundance of vegetables and melons, enhanced the pleasure
the Arabs' people naturally felt, unaccustomed as they were, since
leaving Zanzibar, to feast their eyes upon such scenes.

Late in the afternoon, after the Arab chiefs had, with commendable
caution, constructed a dense hedge of bush and branches around their
camp, they called a meeting to discuss the measures they should take to
open friendly communication with the formidable citizens of Kwikuru.

When they were all assembled, the leader Khamis said to them:

"My friends, we are at last in Urori, where I suspect we shall have to
conduct ourselves differently from what we have been accustomed to.  I
mean that I fear that tribute may be exacted by the King, and I have
called you here to advise prudence, and to ask you to use tact in all
your dealings with them.  We may have to pay a heavy tribute, for this
King is evidently powerful and rich, and a mean present of cloth I
expect he will refuse."

"Khamis," said Sultan bin Ali, "thou hast done well to advise us upon
this beforehand.  What amount of cloth dost thou think will suffice this
man's greed?  We may be liberal, for we can afford it, but we have not
one doti (four yards) of cloth too much."

The chief answered, "I do not know as yet what amount will suffice, but
let us begin prudently, for in that course is wisdom.  I suggest that
six doti be made up; two doti (eight yards) of Joho cloth for the King,
two doti of light checks for his wife, one doti of Muscat check with the
red and yellow borders for his eldest son, and one doti of good Kaniki
(blue cotton) for the principal elder."

"That idea seems excellent to me," said Sultan bin Ali, "and Amer, thou
hast a cunning slave called Moto, a Mrori, I believe; let him and
another good man take the cloths to the King with words of friendship
from us, that we may pass through the country in tranquillity and peace
with all men."

This advice meeting the approbation of all the chiefs, Moto, accompanied
by the kirangozi of Khamis bin Abdullah, who was learned in all the
languages of Eastern Central Africa, sallied out of the camp in the
direction of Kwikuru, while the Arabs sat in the tent of their leader,
hospitably entertained with the beet that the larder could furnish.

An hour had barely elapsed before Moto and the kirangozi, or guide,
returned to the camp; and going directly to the principal tent, kneeled
before the door and said to the Arabs:

"Salaam Aleikum!"  (Peace be unto you.)  To which greeting the Arabs
responded with one voice:

"Aleikum Salaam!"  (And unto you be peace.)

"Well, Moto, speak," said Khamis.  "Why, you have brought the present
back!  You have been unsuccessful?"

"These are the King's words, which he commanded me to tell you: `Why
have you come to my country?  Know you not that there is enmity between
the Warori and the children of the Arabs?  Mostana, the great chief whom
the cruel traders slew, was my friend; and can I forget his death with
such a contemptible present as that which you have brought to me?  Go
slaves, and tell your masters that, unless they send me fifty bales of
cloth, and fifty guns, with twenty barrels of gunpowder, they must
return the way they came.'  These, my masters, are the words which
Olimali bade us tell you."

A deep silence followed this declaration of the King of Kwikuru, and the
Arabs instinctively looked at one another in surprise and dismay.

Sheikh Mohammed, the black-browed Arab, resolute and determined as he
always was, first broke the silence with the question, directed to Moto:

"Have you regarded well this village of Olimali?"

"I have, master," said Moto.

"Is it strong?  Speak, for I respect your opinion, Moto."

"It is strong, master, much too strong for us to attack it with our
people.  If the Warori come out of their village they could not take
this camp while our men remained within."

"That is well-spoken, Moto," replied Mohammed; and turning to Sheikh
Khamis, he asked:

"Hast thou decided what to do, son of Abdullah?"

"Mashallah! my friend, can I decide upon so important a subject as
giving away thy property to this greedy infidel?  May his soul perish in
Al Hotamah!  Does he think that cloth, and guns, and powder grow in the
jungles of Africa?  But this is serious, and we must set on our heads
the caps of wisdom and understanding to consider the determination of
Olimali.  Speak, friends, Arabs of Muscat and chiefs of Zanzibar, my
ears are open."

Out spoke Amer bin Osman: "Do you think, Moto, if we offered half he
would accept?"

"No, master, I do not.  I think Olimali desires war and not peace, and
if he thought you would send fifty bales of cloth, he would ask for
fifty more.  I heard the people talk, as I left the King's presence, of
war.  My ears are very sharp."

"War!" shouted Mohammed, "then war he shall have, and I shall have the
pleasure to put light through his body with my good Shiraz sword;" and
Sheikh Mohammed looked as fierce as his threat.

"Peace, Mohammed, my friend," said Sultan bin Ali.  "It is not everyone
who trusteth in his sword flourisheth.  I think there are more ways of
tiding over this evil hour than by war, even if we were doubly strong
with men and guns.  Let us act prudently in the hour of danger."

"Sultan bin Ali is right," said Sheikh Thani.  "Rather let us try all
pacific measures first, and let war be the last resource.  We have
slaves, and women, and little ones in the camp, besides much property.
We must remember this before we act hastily."

"Thani has spoken well, and with understanding; and I propose that we
send forty good cloths and forty ordinary cloths, besides an odd gun or
two, with half a keg of powder to Olimali by Moto and the kirangozi, who
will speak him fairly and with due respect," said the leader, Khamis.

"I do not go again," said Moto.  "What I have seen in the village, and
what my ears have heard are no light things, and I would ask permission
from my master to remain."

"Well, never mind, any man will do who has a smooth tongue and fair
speech," said Khamis.  "Let the kirangozi choose whom he will take, and
let him go with the cloth."

A man was readily found, who, ignorant of the danger, had no reason to
refuse to go upon the errand which the always bold Moto had refused.

But even as the guide and his companion were leaving the camp Moto saw
he had acted wisely, for the cattle were being driven towards the
village with far more expedition than the time of day warranted; but he
held his tongue, not wishing to alarm the camp unnecessarily.

He followed the movements of the kirangozi and his companion with
exceeding interest until they had arrived at the gate, where they were
halted; and after a short pause, he saw the two men returning towards
the camp.

Proceeding to the gate of the camp, he there awaited the arrival of the
kirangozi, and when he was near enough Moto quietly asked of him:

"Is it peace, or war?"

"War!"

He needed to hear no more, for he had been certain of it, and he went
directly to his friend Simba to communicate the news, who received it
with surprise.

"War, Moto?  Then our fears, my friend, have turned out true, and it is
because of the battle which thou wert in with Kisesa against Mostana,
eh?"

"Yes, Simba; and wouldst thou believe it?  I saw two or three fellows
eye me pretty hard, and it was for that I refused to go the second time;
for if they had known to a certainty that I was in that battle thou
wouldst never have seen Moto again, friend Simba."

During the greater part of that night the Arabs sat in council, debating
how to proceed; but not agreeing, they separated for the night, not,
however, without posting sentinels all around the camp under the charge
of Sheikh Thani.



CHAPTER FOUR.

KHAMIS'S ADDRESS TO THE ARABS--PROPOSALS FOR ATTACK ON KWIKURU--SIMBA
SPLITS THE GATE FROM TOP TO BOTTOM--THE WARORI CHIEF SHOT--DEATH OF
KHAMIS BIN ABDULLAH--AMER BIN OSMAN PIERCED BY AN ARROW--SELIM MADE
PRISONER--SELIM BRUTALLY LASHED BY TIFUM--THE THREE ARAB BOYS BROUGHT
BEFORE FERODIA--SELIM REFUSES TO DRINK OR DANCE--ABDULLAH REFUSES TO BE
CALLED A SLAVE--FLIGHT OF SULTAN BIN ALI--DIVISION OF THE SPOILS--THE
MAGIC DRINK: MUTILATION OF THE DEAD--THE CHANT OF THE MAGIC DOCTORS.

The young people who have been fortunate in buying this book may not
have experience of the battle-field, and therefore may not know what the
feelings and thoughts of those who are about to stake their lives
against the lives of others for the victory in the bloody contest are.
The feeling is the same in all men, whether white or black, though some
natures are so constituted that they are enabled to hide feelings which
some say partake largely of fear.  But I deny that such indicate fear,
though, left to themselves, they might create fear.  In the Arab camp,
as report and rumour had been busy at the camp-fires, a feeling of dread
predominated in all minds, but had there been one chief of resolution,
with power unlimited over all, a few words of cheer had done wonders in
improving the tone of their minds.

Khamis bin Abdullah was a brave man; no man might deny that; but his
bravery was undisciplined; it was uncultivated; it was the bravery of a
wild but noble heart.  He had not seen so many battle-fields that he
could afford to smile at the declaration of Olimali; he had not the
experience of war which would have satisfied him that, however large and
numerous the force of Olimali was, he had resources enough in himself to
defeat them all.  Khamis bin Abdullah could die himself, but he could
not bring others to look upon death with calmness and courage.  So that,
despite the high-spirited courage of his race, which he eminently
possessed, the truth must be told without any disparagement to himself;
a feeling of depression, some undefined dread, remained settled in his
breast, though his outer aspect, his mien, or behaviour, did not betray
this.

As it was with Khamis, so was it with the other chiefs.  Amer bin Osman
was as brave as a lion, but he could not depend upon his people as he
could depend upon himself personally, and this thought created the
dread, and doubt, and apprehension of something undefinable, which all
the chiefs at this critical moment felt.

Sheikh Mohammed, Sultan bin Ali, and the rest were as brave as any
living men.  Had there been only one hundred Arabs, a doubtful issue of
the war would never have been entertained; but there were only twelve
Arabs and six hundred black men; and how long would the black men stand
together?

At sunrise, another meeting was called, and the Arab chiefs, with their
sons, hastened to the council.

Khamis, the leader, when all had been seated, said:

"My friends, the last words of Olimali, according to my kirangozi, were
that the Arabs need not try to tempt him to forego his revenge, but that
we must prepare for war.  We can easily prepare for war, for we are
always ready; but we must endeavour to sustain each other by friendly
counsel and cheering words; for in a fatal issue to us of this war we
know what the fate of us true believers will be.  We can hold out in our
camp against four times the number that Olimali may bring against us.
We are weak, however, in this country, because we have no friends to
supply us with food, and it is not a little that will suffice to feed
six hundred souls.  The men had no food yesterday, they have none
to-day; they cannot hold out long in the camp against hunger.  In this
case what do you propose?"

Sultan bin Ali spoke and said, "Our answer has been given to us, and
there is no longer any doubt of what we have to do.  We must fight, but
how fight is the question.  Shall we await here in the camp the coming
of the infidel savages, or shall we sally out of the camp and attack
them in their boma (palisade)?"

Sheikh Mohammed answered, "We cannot remain in the camp to starve and
eat each other; we must go out and get cattle, while a few of us stop
inside here to strengthen the camp with branches.  I would suggest also
that a trench be dug all around the camp, and the earth thrown against
the hedge as a parapet.  Wallahi!  I have seen such things done in
Unyanyembe, and the enemy beaten."

"Mohammed's words are well spoken," said Amer bin Osman.  "I would
advise eleven of us sally out with our men, and one Arab remain with one
hundred men, who will stir themselves to strengthen the defences with
our cloth bales and baggage; and if we have to fall back, we shall find
a strong place ready for us.  We can harry those infidels; though they
may be hidden behind triple rows of palisades, some of our bullets will
reach them.  Thanks to Allah! we have enough ammunition with us."

"Very good indeed," said Sheikh Thani, a wiry, cautious old man, who had
had much experience in Africa; "but supposing we are beaten in our
attack upon the palisades of Kwikuru, we shall not be any better off
than we were before, but worse; our men will get disheartened, and
starvation will stare us in the face.  I propose that five hundred men,
divided into two parties, make for the gates as quickly as possible, and
break open everything with all the speed we can.  It is only in this way
that we can succeed."

"The oldest among ye have spoken," said the leader Khamis, "and ye have
spoken well.  But I have been in Urori before, and know the customs of
the Warori.  If we succeed in taking this village of Kwikuru, we cannot
hope to be permitted to march through this country any more; but as soon
as we take it we must strike along the road to Unyanyembe.  It is
useless for me to tell ye that I advised ye at first not to take the
Urori road.  I shall not quarrel with ye about that now, but will try to
do my best for our general safety.  If we succeed in destroying Olimali
and his people, we must begin our march north to Unyanyembe to-night,
for in two days the fugitives will carry the news from one end of the
country to another."

"Excellently spoken, brave Khamis," said Amer bin Osman.  "Thou hast a
wise head, and art a worthy leader.  Do thou, with thy men and other
chiefs, attack one gate, and I, with my men and other chiefs, will
attack the other gate, and whosoever takes a gate first, let him blow on
his horn once.  I advise now that whatsoever we may have we shall eat,
and that after we break our fast we sally out."

"Praised be Allah for his goodness!  Let us eat; then fight!" all
shouted.

In half an hour breakfast had been despatched, and every chief sallied
out with his men under his respective flag, except Sultan bin Ali, who
was left with one hundred men to prepare the camp for defence in case of
failure.

Simba and Moto had also had their little council together; and as they
marched by the side of Amer bin Osman, various signs might have been
seen by the observer to pass between them, accompanied by many ominous
shakings of the head.

A deep silence prevailed near the village; not a soul was seen, not a
dog was heard to bark; but the sun shone as usual with its summer heat,
and the sky was perfectly cloudless and beautiful in its azure purity.

But little did the approaching Arabs and their followers heed the beauty
of the sky, the brilliancy of the day, or the heat of the sun.

When they had advanced within 300 yards of the village, the force under
Amer bin Osman separated from that of Khamis bin Abdullah, and marched
at a respectful distance from the village towards the southern gate, and
when he had gained his position, at a preconcerted signal both forces
began their firing, advancing rapidly as they fired.

The village stirred not; not a sign of life was visible for some time,
until the Arabs had approached within fifty yards; then clouds of arrows
were seen to issue from the village, and furious yells were heard, which
seemed to rend the sky.  Numbers of the Arab followers fell pierced to
the core by the arrows; but the animated shouts of their chiefs spurred
them on towards the palisade.

In a few moments, after repeated discharges of musketry, the Arabs
gained the outer defence of the village, and, intruding their guns
between the tall posts, were soon firing right in the faces of the
astonished but not dismayed people of Olimali.  But at this juncture, a
long blast on a deep-sounding horn was heard from the interior,
simultaneously with a shorter and shriller sound which proceeded from
the southern gate.  The shriller horn belonged to Amer bin Osman, and
was blown by Moto; but what did the bass horn from the interior of the
village mean?  But there was no time to lose in conjecture.

Amer bin Osman had advanced with resistless impetuosity towards the
southern gate, and the gigantic Simba had, with one blow of his heavy
axe, split the gate from top to bottom, and, giving it a strong push
with his foot, had sent it flying open, through which, accompanied by
his master Amer and Selim, who carried his rifle, he had bounded into
the interior, firing his musket with the utmost rapidity.

Amer's followers, animated by the valour of their master and the immense
strength of Simba, now became as brave as lions, and vied with each
other in noise and bravery.  Not being able to make their way rapidly
enough by the gate, which was thronged by the besiegers, they climbed
over the palisades like monkeys, and little Niani's agility might have
astonished his namesake.  Abdullah, Mussoud, and Isa were with their
parents, Sheikhs Mohammed and Hamdan, and they crept through the gate
much behind Selim and his father Amer, owing to the press of besiegers.

So quickly had Simba gained the gate and destroyed it, that all the
fugitives were not able to enter the inner inclosure which surrounded
the king's quarters, and a body of them, numbering about fifty, under
the leadership of the king's eldest son, now stood with their backs to
the palisades, resolutely confronting Simba and his companions, with
heavy spears in their hands.

Simba, at this time before a foe on whom he could exert the full power
of his arm, became transformed into the embodiment of a black Mars, the
god of war.  He was no longer the humble and obedient servant of Sheikh
Amer and the true friend of Selim.  He was more; he was their
irresistible leader.  In his eyes glowed the ardour of fierce battle;
the terrible savage spirit of the Warundi, hitherto constrained for
faithful, though menial, service, had burst its trammels, and he now
stood, with uplifted musket,--confessed--the bronze Achilles of the war.
His fierce eye caused the doomed fugitives to quail with cowardly
dread; and when aimed at him, the heavy spears of the Warori fell
harmless at his feet.  Giving vent to the hitherto latent passion of the
savage's soul in a loud bellowing cry, he sprang forward, and the
rapidity with which he dealt his blows with his clubbed musket awed even
the warrior soul of his Arab chief.  But not for long did Amer pause to
regard even the prowess of Simba.  Calling to his followers, he raised
his long two-edged sword, and darted at the enemy, plying the weapon
best known to him and his race with a power which elicited as much
admiration as Simba's strength of arm and dexterity of stroke had done.

Rendered desperate by the knowledge of their situation, the remaining
Warori, headed by their chief, made a rush towards their enemies and
used their heavy spears with frantic energy.  In front of the Warori
chief stood Selim, firing and loading his rifle with a coolness and
method which would have won applause from his father's people had the
combatants not been so busily engaged.  He was in the act of re-loading
when the desperate rush of the Warori was made, and their chief stood
with uplifted spear above him; but well was it for him that the watchful
eye of Moto was on him, else had our story been ended here, ere it is
hardly begun.  When it seemed that Selim could not have been saved, and
he stood expectant of the blow which would have ended his young life
there and then, he saw the chief's head fall back with a cruel jagged
wound in the temple, through which the bullet of Moto had sped home.

The Warori no longer resisted when they saw their chief fall, and
attempted to fly, but the force of Arabs was too numerous; they fell
dead to a man.

Khamis bin Abdullah had also been successful.  Cheered by the news which
the horn of Amer conveyed, he soon effected an entrance, and,
accompanied by his followers, he had entered the village, and almost
similar scenes awaited him, though not so sanguinary.

When they had succeeded in forcing the outer inclosure, they had still a
hard struggle before them to conquer the village; but they, no doubt,
would have done so had not a new enemy come upon the field.

Unknown to the Arabs, a few miles west of the village was stationed a
large body of Watuta, whose chief had been sent by Katalambula, brother
of the dead Mostana, to pay his respects to his brother's friends, and
to renew "assurances of his esteem and consideration" for them, as the
old letters used to say.

This body of Watuta was one thousand strong, and as soon as the Arab
caravans hove in sight, Olimali had despatched messengers to Ferodia,
the Watuta chief, telling him of his intentions, and bidding him hasten
to the neighbourhood to watch events, and to be ready for the signal, as
he intended to attack the Arab camp.  But the attack of the Arabs upon
his village had caused him to give the signal earlier than he had at
first anticipated, and the easy entrance of the Arabs into the outer
village had been partly effected through the connivance of this wily
chief, though in the loss of warriors and in the death of his eldest son
he had paid dearly for his treachery.

While the Arabs and their followers now devoted their attention to the
attack upon the inner inclosure, which was vigorously defended, the
major number of the Watuta had risen, in response to the deep-sounding
war-horn of the Warori, from among the corn-fields to the west of the
village and camp of the Arabs, and had hurried to the rescue.

They came upon the outer inclosure just as the Arabs commenced their
attack upon the inner palisade, and the first time the Arabs knew of
their presence was when they were first fired upon before and behind.

The followers of the Arabs, before so valiant, now became
panic-stricken, and they simultaneously made a rush for the gates,
while, the defiant yells of the savages completely drowned their cries;
but the cunning Watuta had closed the gates, or had so barricaded them
that egress was impossible.  They now saw nothing but death staring them
in the face--savages in front, savages behind; both parties defended by
palisades, while they stood exposed between, to be shot to death in
their tracks.  It was useless for the Arab leaders to attempt to
encourage them, for one after another of these brave men fell and died.
Khamis bin Abdullah fell, pierced by a dozen arrows, and his son, the
noble young Khamis--the proud-spirited young Arab--fell also across the
body of his father at the hands of the people whom he so much despised.
Mussoud, and Thani, and Amram died also bravely, and one after another
of their followers fell to rise no more, until those who were left threw
down their guns crying "Aman, aman!"  (Mercy, mercy!) upon seeing which
the Watuta and Warori desisted from further murder, to make slaves of
those who cried for quarter.

The force under Amer bin Osman, Sheikh Mohammed, and Hamdan, and the
other chiefs, fared as badly.  They were engaged in vigorously attacking
the inner defence in front of them, when they heard a loud gurgling
shriek issue from Sheikh Mohammed, who had been pierced in the nape of
the neck from an arrow behind, and on turning to see whence it came,
they were dismayed to find an enemy of another tribe behind them.  Moto,
on seeing them, shouted "The Watuta! the Watuta!  Olimali has betrayed
us into their hands."  Bimba, hearing the words of Moto, desisted from
further attack, and came to Amer bin Osman, counselling him to fly with
him, and handing him a shield to cover his body, which, from the dress
he wore, was a prominent mark.  Moto also held a couple of shields
before Selim, while Abdullah and Mussoud were ordered to do the same.

"Fly!" said the astonished Amer--"fly!  Ah, Simba, my friend, had we
wings, we might fly.  See you not the gate is closed?"

"The gate is closed, I know, great master, but Simba's arm is strong,
and I will force it open."

"No, Simba, I cannot fly to be butchered like a bullock outside.  I
shall meet my fate here.  Ha! do you hear that?  See! the savages are
within.  Khamis bin Abdullah is dead!  Save my boy Selim, for his
mother's sake!  Ho, my son, come to me!  One embrace before we part for
ever; but, my son, remember, I shall meet thee in Paradise!"

The father and son were united in a fervent embrace when Amer received
an arrow in the back from within the inner inclosure, which caused him
to fall, with his son in his arms, to the ground.  The arrow had been
driven by a strong hand, for the point projected in front and slightly
wounded Selim in the chest, the blood of father and son commingling in
one stream.

"Brave Simba and faithful Moto, where are ye?  Save my boy!" cried Amer,
looking up with glazed eyes at the two who bent over him, heart-stricken
with sorrow.  "Save my darling Selim!  Save him for the love I bore you!
Ah, Selim, my son, kiss thy mother for thy fa--Amina!--Sel--Ah!"--and
the great soul of Amer hastened upward to the Judgment Seat.

Simba and Moto, when they saw their master had breathed his last,
stretched his form out evenly, and, placing a cloth reverently over his
face, caught hold of Selim, and pressing the heart-broken boy to the
ground, close by the body of his father, said to him:

"Lie still, young master.  Nay, but you must.  Your father commanded us
to save you, and we will; but you must do what we advise you.  Think of
your mother, of many happy days yet in store for you.  Lie still as
death, and they will take you to Katalambula's village, and there you
will meet us.  Here, Abdullah!  Mussoud!  Isa! lie down here, alongside
of Selim.  What, all the chiefs dead already!  Wallahi! but this is a
sad day for the Arabs at Zanzibar!"

Having given these instructions to the Arab boys, which had been given
in much less time than we have taken to record them, Simba and Moto also
fell to the ground, but retaining their spears and shields in their
hands.

By this time the Watuta were within the village, crowing triumphantly
over their success; but Ferodia, the chief, after giving orders to bind
the captives, hastened away with nearly all his force to attack the
camp, which, under old Sultan bin Ali, held out still against the force
that had been detached to attack it.

While the few remaining Watuta were binding the captives, Simba and Moto
rose to their feet, and, using their spears right and left, soon cleared
a passage to the gate, before the astonished savages could recover their
senses.

Once outside the gate, Simba and Moto exerted their powers to the
utmost, and by their extraordinary speed soon left their pursuers far
behind.

Finding it useless to pursue the runaways, the Watuta began to examine
the wounded, and especially the Arabs, whom they surveyed with
astonishment.  The group formed by Amer bin Osman, Selim his son,
Abdullah, Mussoud, and Isa, attracted them most for their rich dresses.
They began to strip the bodies, but their astonishment was very great
when they perceived Isa sit up and fold his hands, asking for mercy.

Suspecting that others shammed death, they laid hold of Selim, and he
also sat up; then Abdullah and Mussoud, and they also sat up, looking
very sheepish, or like guilty people caught doing a mean action.  Angry
at the cheat, as they imagined, to have been practised upon them, they
snatched the cloth from the face of the dead body of Amer bin Osman; but
there was no mistaking him--he was dead.

Some were for slaying the boys at once; but the majority interposed, and
said in an inquiring tone, "Why slay boys, when you can make slaves of
them?" which shortly met general approbation.

Upon agreeing to this, they began to strip Isa, who shortly found
himself as naked as when he was born; but being extremely dark of
colour, there appeared nothing remarkable about him to attract any
special attention, and he was taken at once to the other captives, where
he wae firmly bound with strips of green bark.

They then laid violent hands on the others, on Selim, Abdullah, and
Mussoud; and despite their struggles and tears, they were soon denuded
of their finery and of their rich embroidered dress.  When they saw the
pale and clean colour of their bodies, the fierce Watuta gathered about
them, and wondered what strange beings these were who were all over
white, while they themselves were all black.  They looked at the wound
in Selim's chest, and on pressing it saw the red blood flow, which only
increased their astonishment; for how could people with white skins have
red blood?  But Selim's proud heart was rebelling against the indignity
of being stared at as a curious specimen of humanity, and he had
endeavoured to hide his blushes with his hands; but when they pulled
them down, and ordered him to show his tongue and teeth, and began to
feel the muscles of his arms and legs, then he could bear no more; and
flinging himself across the dead body of his father, he wept aloud, and
prayed to God that he might die.  Abdullah and Mussoud were as yet too
terrified to do more than cry silently; and they were accordingly led
away and bound without resistance.  They then took hold of Selim to tie
him, but he would not rise; and, angered at what they deemed his
stubbornness, two warriors brought the shafts of their spears full upon
his body, which had well-nigh broken the high courage of the young Arab;
for so great was the pain his pride suffered, and so indescribable were
his emotions, that he lay like one stunned.

While the boy lay fainting in the hot sun amid the dead and the blood,
the chief of the party in charge of the prisoners, casting his eyes
around, saw a whip of hippopotamus-hide in the waist-cloth of one of the
dead fundis, or overseers, of the Arabs.  This pliant and formidable
whip the chief--a man of stern and forbidding aspect, whose name was
Tifum (pronounced Tee-foom),--Tifum Byah, or the "Wicked Tifum," and who
was evidently a traveller--handled like a man who knew its uses, for he
made it fly about his arm in black circles, and made it hiss its menace
in the ears of the sorely-tried Selim.

"Proud Arab boy, arise!  Tifum Byah speaks but once, else you will feel
the pains of this whip, with which your cursed race torture the backs of
your slaves.  Many days lie between here and Ututa, and you will suffer
more than this ere you see our plains.  Arise!  No? then words are light
as air, and seldom go into the ears of the stubborn;" and as he spoke,
he lashed the prostrate youth with all his might, while the shrieks
which the pain elicited at last from him were responded to by the
mocking laughter of the brutal crowd, who pointed at the marks which the
whip made in high glee.

When Tifum fancied he had punished him enough, he ordered the boy to be
assisted up to his feet and bound; and when this was done Tifum lowered
his face to Selim's, and said, "Mark my words, child of the pale race!
You shall be Tifum's slave, to hoe his field and bring him wood and
water.  You shall nurse his children, be a herdsman of his cattle, and I
will break your heart, and make your ears open to his slightest breath.
Do you hear me, white face?"

So strong was the nauseous and hateful repugnance he felt towards this
man that Selim could not repress the expression of the loathing that
filled him, and almost unconsciously he spat in his face, which was
instantly retaliated by Tifum with a tremendous box on the ear, which
prostrated the boy once more across the dead body of Amer, where he lay
like one deprived of life, and not all the brutal lashing which the
almost lifeless form received evoked one groan from him; and it was in
this unconscious state that he was carried to where the other prisoners
stood huddled together like frightened sheep.

Then, directing his attention to the dead bodies of the Arabs, these
were ordered to be denuded of their clothing, and to be laid in a row
together, Sheikhs Khamis, Amer, Abdullah, Mussoud, Thani, Hamdan,
Mohammed, Amram, and young Khamis, and two others of lesser note--an
honourable company truly, even in death!

There seemed to have penetrated into the brain of the unconscious Selim
some idea of what was about to occur; for as soon as the dead had been
gathered together, he raised his head and sat up, with his eyes fixed
upon the dishonoured bodies of his father and his father's friends,
which were laid side by side.  He heeded not the taunts of the Warori
who had collected to menace and insult the prisoners, and feast their
curiosity with a sight of the noble dead; he heeded not the groans of
his boy-companions Isa, Abdullah, and Mussoud, nor the wailing of the
little slave Niani, who had been born on his father's estate, and who
was now crying his eyes out for the loss of his master Amer, and for the
more pitiable condition of his young master Selim; he heeded not the hot
sun which was blistering his back with its fierce heat, nor the scores
of flies which troubled his numerous wounds; he sat heedless of all,
with his great eyes fixed sadly on the remains of his father.

But night was approaching, and Ferodia had not yet returned.  Volleys of
musketry were heard incessantly all the afternoon; but as the sun set
the musketry ceased, and Ferodia returned with all but a few of his
people, when it was reported that the camp still held out, but that in
the morning all the fighting men of Olimali and Ferodia would take the
camp at a rush.  Until then he had left a few of his men to watch it,
lest they might abscond at night and take away the most part of the
great wealth which must be stored within the camp.  The losses of the
Watuta had been excessively heavy, as, when Ferodia darted out with his
victorious men, it was expected that the camp would have surrendered at
once; but it seems that Sultan bin Ali had so well fortified it that it
was almost impregnable, and that the Watuta had been punished severely.

The Warori of the village of Kwikuru had prepared food in a great
quantity for the warriors of Ferodia, who were too much engaged with
satisfying their ravenous hunger to display much interest in prisoners
whom they knew were secure; and when they had finished, they had so
gorged their stomachs with food and pombe, that they were too indolent
to stir.  But when Tifum, who was obsequious enough to Ferodia, though
cruel to his subordinates, had told the latter of the interesting
character of the white slaves, as he called the three Arab boys, and how
he had found them shamming death, he commanded him to bring them before
him and Olimali that they might be amused.

Tifum hastened out obedient to his chief's mandates, and, arriving
before the prisoners, searched for the Arab boys, who had already
forgotten their misery in a deep sleep.  Finding that they were in a too
uninteresting condition to amuse his master, he had several gourds full
of water brought to him, which he threw over them to cause them to cast
off the disposition to sleep.  This being done, he led them to the
presence of his chief.

Ferodia was holding forth to Olimali upon the prospects of the great
riches they should share with each other on the morrow when the young
prisoners were ushered before him.  By the dim light which the torches
gave out, they appeared much more pallid and strange in a land where
white people had never been seen; indeed, one might say they were rather
alarming; and it is no wonder that Ferodia started as the three were
pushed towards him.

But, quickly recovering himself, as he remembered who they were, he
burst out into a laugh, saying, "Ah, I remember, these are the Arab
youths thou didst speak to me of, Tifum.  This pombe, Olimali, is
strong.  I think it has made me light-headed,"--speaking these words
aside to the Mrori chief.

Then attentively fixing his gaze upon the prisoners, and looking them
all over, he said, half to himself, "What strange people these Arabs
are--all white!  Their hides are as white almost as the yolk of eggs but
how came the tallest one, I wonder, to have so many wounds?"

"Tifum," said Ferodia, aloud, "what ails this tallest lad?  These wounds
are not the wounds of arrows."

Tifum, bending his back almost double, said, "My chief, this boy is as
stubborn as an ass.  When I remembered the cruelties the people of this
boy have practised upon those of our colour, my blood boiled within me,
and when I told him to arise and be bound like the other prisoners, he
spat in my face, and I flogged him."

"Pah, pah, Tifum! he but acted as the Watuta boys would have done; but
lay not thine hand on him again.  I take him for my slave.  The boy is
half dead already.  Here," said he, addressing Selim, "drink this,"
handing him a good ladleful of sparkling pombe; "it will put life in thy
dull veins."

Selim shook his head and curled his lips in scorn, and looked at the
half-inebriated chief with contemptuous indifference.

The chief regarded him for a moment in silence, with the cup still
stretched, and then said, "Thou art right, Tifum; no Mtuta boy would
have had the courage to refuse a cup of pombe from a chief, nor regard
his future master with such a look.  He is a fool, and stubborn as an
ass, truly.  But I will tame him, or I will kill him.  How Kalulu, the
nephew of Katalambula, will wonder at him!  Why, he must be of the same
age as Kalulu; but Kalulu is taller and stronger; but I doubt if he has
this lad's high courage, though he is proud as if he were already king
of the Watuta.  Kalulu would act differently from this youth if he were
in his place; he would have taken the pombe and then killed me as soon
as he had the opportunity.  Ah!  Kalulu is a true Mtuta.  But here I am
with the cup still in my hand.  If this boy will not drink it, perhaps
the others will.  Here, you!" addressing himself to Abdullah, "drink,
young one.  No?  And you refuse it, too?  Well, you smallest one," to
Mussoud.  "Not even you?  Strange youths!  Dost thou speak their
language, Tifum?"

"A little, my chief."

"Ask this tallest one why will he not take this cup of pombe from the
hand of Ferodia, chief of the Watuta warriors."

"Boy," said Tifum, addressing Selim, "Ferodia, chief of the Watuta
warriors, demands to know why you will not accept the drink at his
hands."

"Then tell thy master," said Selim, without ever, turning his eyes
towards the man, "that I may not accept anything in kindness from his
hands, since he gives it to me while he believes me to be a slave.  Tell
him I am not his slave, and never shall do his bidding save under
constant compulsion."

When Tifum had communicated this to his chief, Ferodia burst into
another loud laugh; then said:

"This boy is verily proud; but, Tifum, ask him to dance."

"Dance!" said Selim, when the order was communicated to him--"Dance!
when my heart is breaking, when my father lies dead and dishonoured
before yonder gates!  Sooner would I die than obey!"

"Then tell him to sing," shouted Ferodia, laughing.

"Sing!" replied Selim.  "How long, oh Allah! shall I suffer these
tortures?  Sing!  As well might you ask the dead to sing!"

"What, will he do nothing, then?  I will wait until the marts of thy
rough hand have been cured, when I will make marks of my own on that
hide of his," said Ferodia, with a wrathful glance in his eye.  "But
where is that whip of thine, Tifum?"

"Here, my chief, at the door of the house," said he, rising to fetch it.

"Give it me."  And giving Selim a severe stroke with it across his
shoulders, he ordered him to stand back, and Tifum to cut the bonds of
the boys Abdullah and Mussoud.

Then, commanding the youths to be brought before him, he told Tifum to
tell Abdullah to dance and Mussoud to sing.

For awhile Abdullah hung down his head in confusion, not seeming to
understand or to realise that _he_, the son of Mohammed, was actually
required to dance by the slayer of his father; while Mussoud looked from
Abdullah to the chief Ferodia's face in quite a foolish way.

"Ask him, Tifum," said Abdullah, in a trembling voice, "if Ferodia
understands what he requires of me."

"Why need I ask him?  Do I not tell you that he commands you to dance,
and the other slave to sing?"

"Slave!" shouted Abdullah, recovering quickly firmness of tone in his
voice.  "Slave!  Lying dog!  Do you call my brother a slave?  Am I a
slave?"

"What does he say?" thundered Ferodia.

"He says he is not a slave, and calls me a liar.  They are all asses and
sons of asses," replied Tifum.  "Verily, though they own hundreds of
black slaves at Zanzibar, they don't seem to know that the chance of war
has made them slaves."

"Tell him, Tifum, that I say he is a slave, he and his brother; that
they shall be my slaves; that they shall do whatever I bid them, and if
not, that I will punish them until they do.  Ferodia speaks."

"Do you hear and understand, asses and sons of asses?" asked Tifum of
Abdullah and Mussoud.  "Do ye hear, children of the Arabs?  Ferodia the
chief tells you that you shall be his slaves to do his bidding, and if
you do not, he will punish you.  Listen to the chief's words, and obey
him."

"We are Arabs," said Abdullah, proudly tossing, his head back, while his
chest seemed to dilate with the great thought.  "We are Arabs, and
children of the Arabs of Muscat.  A chief of the free Bedaween was my
father Mohammed, and I am his son Abdullah.  The desert wind is not
freer than our never-conquered race, and every child of that race is
free.  We, therefore, cannot be slaves.  Ferodia has lied."

"Tell him, Tifum, that I will beat him until he is bleeding on this
floor--until he confesses himself my slave."

"Ferodia says he will beat you, Abdullah, if that be your name, until
you bleed on this floor."

"Tell him from me he may beat me until I die, but he cannot make me a
slave.  Has he not slain my father, and has he not dishonoured me by
causing me to stand naked before him?  Can he punish me more?  He is a
strong man--you call him a chief; he has in his hand a whip; he says he
will use it.  I am but a child, but he cannot make me a slave.  See, I
go to him nearer, and turn my back to him.  I will not cry, though he
tear my flesh;" and the indomitable young Arab walked up nearer to the
chief, looked at him in the eye for a second, then slowly turned his
bare back to him, and with bended head and folded arms waited for the
blow.

Ferodia, though a chief and a Mtuta warrior, was a true savage; he had
never heard of that rare quality which belongs to races civilised and
semi-civilised, and is called magnanimity, or a generous forbearance to
a conquered foe.  He beheld the defenceless boy who was fully in his
power standing within reach of the lash he held in his hand,--that
delicate youth with the fair and faultless skin, on which an angry blow
had never descended, which a whip had never dishonoured,--and the savage
could not restrain his instincts of cruelty or the delight to torture
and rend which is the instinct of wild men as well as of wild animals.
So, when Tifum explained to him what Abdullah had said, and what he
meant by thus turning his back to him, Ferodia, as though it were an
everyday matter in which no principle was involved, lifted his whip, and
as he saw the tender flesh shrink and redden, and then bleed and gape,
it but kindled the desire to hurt; but a powerful antidote and
corrective,--even subjugator, you may say,--was the resolute passiveness
and determined silence of his victim; and without being aware himself of
what lessened the power of his blows, and weakened his anger, and
finally conquered the desire to torture, his arm was stayed, and still
the boy stood up, now confronting him, with the same steady gaze and
heroic mien, to ask the astonished savage with a curling lip:

"Well, have you made me a slave now?  Am I more a slave than before?"

"Stand aside, fool, else I will do thee a greater harm; and thou, Tifum,
away with them, treat them as slaves; and when we are on the road, give
them loads to carry.  Since they think it such a terrible thing to be
naked, let their nakedness be seen of men and women, and if they suffer
through it, so much the better.  Slaves were made to suffer.  Are my
words nothing?  Shall these baby-faces beard me before my own people?"
So saying, Ferodia threw his whip from him, and drowned his further
reflections in a mighty gourd-bowl full of strong pombe; and as he
sighed his content, all traces of anger vanished; and as he observed his
friend Olimali had long ago measured his length upon the clay floor of
the hut, he laughed heartily; but the fumes of the pombe he had already
drunk were rapidly conquering the conqueror--even Ferodia, chief of the
Watuta.

The first news Ferodia and Olimali received, when they had recovered in
the morning from their drunken stupor, was not calculated to content
them.  This was the flight of Sultan bin Ali and his men by night from
the camp, with but two or three bales of cloth, so that a party flying
for their lives, and so lightly laden, were not easily to be overtaken,
and could not be done before they would reach a country friendly to the
Arabs.  Still, when the two chiefs, after venting a few angry
expletives, came to reflect, to converse, and turn over coolly, calmly,
and deliberately the news, it was found not to be so bad after all--
rather the reverse; until, finally, it was settled that the news was the
best that could be heard of what might concern them, and they felt
accordingly very gratified.

Four hundred bales of cloth and beads, one hundred kegs of powder, a
vast number of bullets, rugs, carpets, counterpanes, feather pillows,
richly embroidered caps, knives, looking-glasses, despatch-boxes, a few
guns, kettles, cups and saucers, sugar, coffee, tea, spices, curry, and
numberless little things which go to make the miscellaneous sum-total of
the plunder of a large and wealthy caravan--in short, the sum of fifty
thousand silver dollars would not have covered the cost price of the
articles found in the Arabs' deserted camp.

In the possession of these articles, what a difference had been made
within twenty-four hours in that small area contained within the compass
of a square half mile, a spot in Africa that might be covered by a pin's
point on an ordinary school-map of the world!  How much noise,
confusion, blowing of gunpowder, did the fact of possession comprehend!
How many lives had been destroyed!  What noble men had died!  How much
misery had been created!  And on such a very small spot in this world,
that no one would ever have heard of it, had I not been elected the
historian of the battle of Kwikuru!  Yet who will dare deny my right and
duty to relate truly and clearly how it all happened--what dashing
bravery Simba showed; how Khamis bin Abdullah and his lion-hearted son
and the noble Amer bin Osman died; how our proud, high-spirited heroes,
the Arab youths, Selim, Abdullah, and Mussoud, endured their sad
misfortunes--to illustrate the high and noble principles involved in all
these things, and to point with bold finger the moral which adorns this
chronicle?  Happy are ye, my young readers, if your eyes fall upon these
few pages; for ye shall be counted as those to whom a new world of human
life has been revealed, where exist passions and joys so akin to our own
that none may be so blind as not to perceive our relationship to them!

Putting by moralising for the present, let us glance at the incidents
which transpired on the news of the desertion of the Arab camp becoming
generally known.

Ferodia and Olimali became exceedingly elated when the rich store of
plunder was described to them.  They rubbed their hands, like two
children rejoicing gleefully over a nice Christmas present; they
laughed, and giggled, and said so many tender silly things to one
another, that the historian of these events finds his patience too
exhausted to relate them.

Trusty men were at once despatched to the camp to superintend the
removal of the riches to Kwikuru, and when they were all conveyed into
the inner inclosure and exhibited to the view of the chiefs, they could
barely realise that they were the actual possessors of all this immense
wealth until they had peered into every box, and felt over and over
again the texture of the gaudy cloths before them.  The palisade was
lined by men, women, and children, who endeavoured to thrust their
over-large heads for such intentions through the narrow spaces between
the poles.  Their cries of admiration were irrepressible.  They hummed,
and hawed, and heyed, and coughed their immeasurable satisfaction.

The division of the spoils was made with religious justice.  Ferodia
retained half of everything, and to Olimali, his friend and ally, was
given the other half.  But their respective halves were so large, that
there was no room for quarrel, and the most ambitious African could
never have dreamed of such abundant store as had now fallen into the
hands of these fortunate chiefs.  When Ferodia, assisted by ten
favourite head men, had reckoned up, after much mental calculation, how
much cloth he had, he could only express it by saying that there were
belonging to him one hundred hundreds of dotis and sixty hundreds of
dotis of cloth, including all kinds; or, as we should say, with our
expressive terms, there were 16,000 doti, or 64,000 yards.

Ferodia caused his warriors to be drawn up in line.  Though a few had
been killed, still there were enough men in the line to warrant the
statement that there were 900 men where originally there had been 1000
of them.  To these warriors the head men delivered six doti each of
mixed cloth, which left in Ferodia's possession 10,600 dotis.  The odd
600 were for himself and his head men and doctors of magic--himself, as
may be supposed, retaining the lion's share.  The remaining 10,000
dotis, and the beads and other things, were for the king Katalambula and
his prospective heir, Prince Kalulu.

The 10,000 dotis of cloth were made into 200 light portable bales
containing fifty dotis each, which weighed about forty pounds.  The
beads were distributed for the like purpose, as well as the fifty
barrels of powder, etc. etc.

The distribution having taken place, and each warrior made perfectly
satisfied with his share, there remained one more duty to perform--a
religious duty--which might not be neglected long, and this was the
religious ceremony of making each warrior magically strong in arm and
limb, by giving him to drink of the consecrated drink.

This ceremony took place the evening of the day after the battle.
First, fires were lighted around a large circle outside the boma, or
outer palisade of Kwikuru, with only one entrance left for the passage
of the sacrificial bodies of the dead Arabs.  The bodies, being all
denuded of their clothing, were laid diametrically across the circle.
Then earthen, tin, and copper pots full of water, with some millet-flour
in each, were placed over the fire, and then small bottle gourds (with
numbers of small pebbles in them), two for each magic doctor, were
prepared and placed near the heads of the bodies.  Everything being thus
ready, the magic doctors took their sharp knives in their hands and
began their work.  To the sound of a low crooning song, or rather chant,
the words of which could not be distinguished, the knives were set to
work on the bodies of their enemies, first in cutting the tips of each
nose, then the lower lip, then the flesh under the chin, then the ears
and the eyebrows, which, when ended, they conveyed to the pots over the
fires.  Continuing their work, the nipples of the breasts were then cut,
the muscles of their arms and legs, and, lastly, the whole of the flesh
covering the abdomen, which they took and placed in the pots over the
fire.  Then the hearts were extracted, and, finally, the fat of the
entrails of each body.  After this mutilation and disfigurement of the
dead, the head of each body was cut off and placed on the end of pointed
poles, to be borne around the camp during the ceremonial song.

Within half an hour the water had boiled sufficiently, and the magic
doctors, taking the wonderful gourds filled with pebbles in their hands,
began to shake them to the tune of a monotonous chant, in the chorus of
which the warriors, bearing the heads aloft on poles, joined, marching
slowly as they sang around the circle.  The words ran thus, as well as
they may be translated:

  Oh, the horrible, fearful battle,
          Where warriors slew and were slain,
  Where dead lay unnumbered, and wounds were made,
  Till the field ran red with blood that was shed
              In the horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  With the blood that was shed
              In the horrible, fearful battle.

  Ferodia the chief, Ferodia the strong,
          The lion and leopard in war,
  Tifum Byah, Maro, and Wafanyah,
  Great chiefs of the unconquer'd Watuta,
          In the horrible, fearful battle,
      _Chorus_.  In the horrible, fearful battle.

  They heard the loud note, the war-horn's note,
          Olimali, their friend, was distress'd;
  They rose from the bush, they rose from the ground,
  They rush'd to Kwikuru, and hemm'd them round,
          For a horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  For a horrible, fearful battle.

  The Arabs and blacks who came from afar.
          Who came from near the sea,
  To give the Warori and Watuta, King Olimali and Ferodia,
          A horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  A horrible, fearful battle.

  Warori were brave, the Watuta were strong,
          'Gainst those who came from afar.
  The Arabs lie dead by hundreds around;
  They will hear never more the war-horn's sound,
          For a horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  For a horrible, fearful battle.

  Then, drink, warriors! drink the true magic drink!
          The strength of your enemies slain!
  Drink of the blood, of the fat, and the heart,
  Drink to commemorate before we part,
          The horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  Before we part
          The horrible, fearful battle.

  Then, drink, warriors! drink the true magic drink!
          The strength of your enemies slain!
  Be strengthened in heart, in limb, and in arm,
  Be strong, be swift, be wise, and safe from harm
          In each horrible, fearful battle.
      _Chorus_.  And safe from harm
          In each horrible, fearful battle.

When this chant was over, which has been rendered into English as
faithfully as possible, the poles on which the ghastly trophies had been
placed were planted in the ground before each gate of the village.  But
the young Arabs were spared this fearful scene, as they had been sent
ahead with the loads, escorted by a strong guard.  Then, the ceremony
over, the chief Ferodia embraced in a loving manner his friend Olimali,
and departed to the sound of booming horns and drums, and a general
grateful look from the young women of Kwikuru--he and his warriors.

At sunset they camped in a forest, through which the road led towards
the south-west.



CHAPTER FIVE.

SIMBA AND MOTO'S MIDNIGHT HALT IN THE FOREST--MOTO'S PLAN FOR SAVING
SELIM--BIMBA AND MOTO MADE PRISONERS AT KATALAMBULA'S VILLAGE--THEY ARE
BROUGHT BEFORE THE KING--KALULU RECOGNISES MOTO--THE KING GIVES EACH OF
THEM A WIFE--KALULU'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE--THE GREAT AFRICAN GIANTESS--
THE MARRIAGE SONG--CONCLUSION OF THE MARRIAGE FESTIVITIES.

Simba and Moto were men as capable of enduring fatigue as the Watuta
were, as good runners also; so that even had their enemies pursued them
with a greater determination than they showed, the two men might have
laughed securely, as night would soon have shrouded them with its
friendly mantle.

For a long time, however, the two held on their way, raising their eyes
every now and then toward the bright Southern Cross, which shone so
clearly, and pointed their future road so plainly.  They travelled with
their figures half-profile to the Cross, or in a south-westerly
direction.  But at midnight the two halted in the denser portion of the
forest; and there they built two fires and prepared their resting-places
with leaves and tender twigs; and having done so, they breathed a long
sigh of relief, sat down, and gradually their eyes lost the eager,
intelligent look in vacancy.

But after a while Simba said in a deep, low voice, half to himself and
half to Moto: "Wallahi! but this has been a sad day for us.  That large
and costly caravan and the brave men and leaders are gone.  It was but
last night I stood at their tent-door, looking at my noble master Amer
and his friend Khamis, and I was thinking that there never lived finer
and nobler-looking men.  Ah, Arab sheikhs! where are ye now, chiefs of
Zanzibar?"  Then, raising his head, he said, "Answer me, thou black,
blackest night!  Answer me if ye can, oh twinkling stars!  Answer me,
dark and dread silence!  Shall I never see dear master again?  Moto,
where dost thou think Amer is now?"

To which Moto answered: "Amer, the noblest of his tribe, the worthiest
master that ever lived, the man with the kind heart and liberal hand, is
not dead--he sleepeth."

"Sleepeth!  Ah, would it were so! then this great heaviness of sorrow
within me would vanish.  But what meanest thou, Moto?"

"Hast thou forgotten already the words of our noble master, the son of
Osman, how that he said to us often, a man cannot die; the body may
remain on the ground to moulder, and rot, and become dust, but the life
that was in him cannot die?  Hast thou never heard him mention the word
Soul--that unseen, unfelt thing, which is as light as air, yet is the
most important part of a man?  For a long time I laughed at Amer's words
in my secret heart, but when I heard all the Arabs say the same thing,
and the Nazarenes at Zanzibar say it also, I was obliged to believe,
though I could not tell what the soul was like, or who had seen it, or
if anybody had ever seen it.  But now Amer's head lies low on the ground
and a cruel wound has found his kind heart, I shall keep thinking of his
words, and believe in them; and I believe truly that Amer's soul looks
down upon us through this darkness from above."

"I remember me now much the same thing," said Simba, "though my sorrow
of heart had blinded my memory.  Is it not a happy thought, Moto, that
master Amer is not quite, quite dead, and that we shall see him again?"

"Yes, very happy.  Thou knowest, Simba, that he cannot be dead with us
either, for we shall carry him in our memories like a valued treasure,
and will never cease talking of him when we are together."

"Ah! thou hast a good memory, Moto; but who, thinkest thou, is the
happiest--master Amer, up above there, or young master Selim, a
prisoner?"

"Oh, Simba! while I was beginning to think myself happy, thou hast made
my heart black with sorrow, by making me think of what that boy must
suffer.  If it were not for his future good I would never have left him.
Amer is happiest in Paradise, but Selim, his son, living on earth, must
be miserable."

"It is just as I thought also," said Simba.  "Poor child!  Do you not
remember how pretty he looked when he hinted to his father, that perhaps
Simba would like his freedom?  How his eyes, always beautiful, seemed
filled with softness, and love, and gratitude to me?  Ah, Selim, young
master of everything that Simba has, it will go hard with some of these
savage Watuta if they harm thee!"

"They will not harm Selim or the Arab boys; they will keep them as
curiosities, unless some of them have seen Arabs before going about to
buy slaves, in which case I pity them all," said Moto.

"Moto," shouted Simba, raising himself up, "art thou revenging thyself
on me for making thee unhappy with the mention of him?  Speak.  Selim a
slave!  That petted, tender Arab boy a slave!  Answer me, Moto."

"It is as I tell thee; if any of the Watuta understand, as we do, what
the word Arab is, all the Arab boys will be made slaves, and be beaten
like dogs," answered Moto.

"We are not obeying master Amer by running away from the camp of the
Watuta.  He told us to save his son Selim.  I am going back;" and Simba
snatched his spears and gun.

"Fool!" said Moto.  "We cannot save him from the Watuta by going into
their camp.  We can only do it by finishing as we have begun.  We must
go to Katalambula's village and see Kalulu.  He only can save Selim and
ourselves."

"Well, I believe thou art right," said Simba.  "Let us go to sleep, and
at dawn let us be off to see this Kalulu."  Saying which, he lay down
between the fires, but sleep did not visit his eyes for some time
afterwards.

For fifteen days they marched long and far towards the south-west
without any incident worthy of notice.  Now and then they left the
forest occasionally, to follow a road leading to some village and obtain
information as to the whereabouts of the village of Katalambula of those
people whom they might meet, with little danger to themselves.

On the sixteenth day of their night they came to a large plain,
extremely populous and rich.  The dun-coloured tops of huts arose above
the tall corn and millet everywhere.  At midday they came to a deep
river flowing north-west, which the people called Liemba.  On the
opposite side of the river they were also told was Katalambula's
village.

They were rowed across, for which Simba paid the canoe-man with a couple
of arrows, having no other means of paying him.  Then, following the
right bank of the river for a few minutes, by fields of splendid corn,
they came in sight of the village.

It was substantially built; and was constructed in the same manner as
the Kwikuru of Olimali, except that the king's quarters were flat-roofed
tembes, surrounding a square of large dimensions, where the king kept
his cattle and goats, and two or three donkeys, which were preserved
more as curiosities than for any use that were made of them, and where
he himself lived with his numerous family of women; for, strange to say,
Katalambula, with all his wives, had never been able to obtain a son.

The principal gate was, as usual, decorated with the only trophies
savages respect or regard, viz., glistening white skulls of their
enemies.

When Simba and Moto arrived near the gate, the former's gigantic height
of body and breadth of shoulders soon attracted attention, and drew
crowds towards him of curious gazers.

"Health unto you," was his greeting to them.

"And unto you, strangers!" they replied.  "Whence come you?" they then
asked.

"We are travellers," said Moto, "who have heard of King Katalambula, and
have desired much to see Ututa's king."  This was said in good Kirori,
which, excepting a few words, is the same as Kituta.

"Your words are well, strangers.  You are Warori?" a chief, who now made
his presence known, asked them.  "Though your garb is different, and the
punctures on the cheek and forehead are wanting."

"I am a Mrori," answered Moto, "but my companion is not; he is a
stranger from a far land."

"Then do the Warori carry guns nowadays?  And how is it that you wear
such fine clothes?" he asked, regarding them suspiciously.

"We were successful in hunting, and shot an elephant, whose teeth we
sold for cloth and two guns."

"And where did you meet elephants?"

"On the frontier, near Urori."

"And where did you meet the Arabs?"

"In Ututa, two days from Urori."

"Did you ask them where they were going?"

"They were going to Uwemba."

"Perhaps you can tell us where they came from?"

"From Ubena."

"Strangers," said the chief, "you are liars.  No Arabs have been in this
country for a long, long time.  You are our prisoners, and must come
before the King in our company;" and, as he spoke, the men that had
gathered near rushed at them and disarmed them.

In a short time they found themselves within the inner square; and under
a large sycamore in the centre was seated, on a dried mud platform,
raised two feet above the ground, and which ran around the tree like a
circular sofa, covered with kid and goatskins, and over these skins of
wild beasts, an old white-haired man, whom, by the deference paid to
him, the prisoners knew was King Katalambula.

The King had on his head a band of snowy white cloth, and his dress was
a long broad robe of crimson blanket cloth.  He was a kindly-looking old
man, and he was evidently at the time being much amused with something
that a tall young lad of sixteen, or thereabouts, was saying; but as the
group of warriors guarding Simba and Moto entered the square, the old
man looked up curiously, and when they drew nearer he demanded to know
what the matter was.

"My sultan, my lord," said the principal man to whom we were first
introduced at the gate, "these men are suspicious characters.  To every
question I asked them they replied with a he; wherefore we brought them
to you to judge."

"Speak, strangers, the truth.  Who and what are ye?"

The quick eye of Moto had seen the young lad standing by Katalambula
when he entered, and he suspected that he was the object of his search,
the young friend of bygone years.

"Great king," said Moto, "I did lie; but to you I will give the truth.
I am a Mrori, who was taken when a child by the Arabs of Zanzibar.
Years after that time, when I was a man, I accompanied an Arab chief,
called Kisesa, to Unyanyembe; but soon after arriving, he declared war
against the Warori, and--"

"Kisesa!" said the young lad, advancing towards him with the stride of a
young lion.  "War against the Warori!" he added again, with an angry
glitter in his eyes.

"Yes, young chief," said Moto, humbly; "and I accompanied Kisesa to this
war.  After a long march we came before a Tillage near Ututa, governed
by--"

"By whom?" asked the young chief.  "Tell me his name--quick, dog!"

"Mostana," said Moto, deliberately.

"Mostana!" shrieked the boy, and the word was echoed in a tone of
surprise by all.

"Yes, Mostana was his name," said Moto, unheeding the menacing looks or
the angry murmurs which arose from all sides, but hurrying on with his
story.  "We took the village after a short time, though Mostana's men
fought well, and numbers of our people were killed.  Mostana's men were
nearly all killed, and those who were left were made slaves, according
to the custom of the Arabs."

"Yes, that is true," said Katalambula.  "Those cruel people make clean
work of it when they fight, but I--"

"Were they all made prisoners?" asked the boy chief, in a curious tone.

"All, except one, and--"

"And his name was--?"

"Kalulu!" replied Moto, in a clear tone.

Again rose a murmur of astonishment from all sides, but, apparently
heedless that he had said anything very strange, Moto continued:

"Yes, Kalulu, the son of Mostana, was standing by his father's side,
when Kisesa, observing him, said he would give fifty pieces of cloth to
whoever would take him alive.  On hearing that, my soul felt a feeling
of pity for him, as you must remember I was a Mrori; and, though I liked
the Arabs, I could not kill my own people at their bidding, nor did I
like to see such a brave boy as Mostana's son in danger of being made a
slave by Kisesa.  So, on hearing the offer made by Kisesa, I snatched up
a shield and rushed forward to whisper to him to follow me, but the boy
thought probably that I was about to kill him, as he put a spear clean
through my shield and pinned my arm to it."

A loud cry of admiration greeted this, while the boy already advanced
nearer to Moto and regarded him affectionately; but Moto heeded nothing
of this, but continued:

"Seeing me still advance, the boy sprang back just as his father fell
dead by a bullet from some gun behind me.  I hastened after the boy, saw
him look cautiously around, and spring over the palisade; but I was
right behind him; and when he was a little distance off in the forest I
chased him at my best speed, and soon came up to him.  I explained to
him who I was, and why I chased him, and told him I was his friend; upon
which he told me that he was going to his uncle, a great king in Ututa,
and that if ever we met again he would be my friend."

As Moto finished this part of his story, the boy chief sprang forward
and embraced Moto, saying:

"Dost thou not know me?  I am Kalulu!  And thou art my friend Moto!  I
shall keep my promise, and the King must thank thee," said Kalulu, as he
drew Moto forward towards Katalambula.

As they heard these words from Kalulu, the chiefs and elders clapped
their hands, and saluted Moto, while the King took hold of Moto's right
hand and said:

"Kalulu has told me the story which related how the Kirori slave would
not take him when he might have done so; and though I never expected to
see the man, I promised him that if any of my people met him and they
should bring him to me, I should be his friend; that he should have one
of my daughters for wife, and that I would bestow on him anything else
he asked, for Kalulu is as dear to me as though he were my son.  Speak,
Moto, add tell me what I can do for thee."

Then Moto, after a seat had been given to him, repeated briefly the
story which we have already given to the readers, while murmurs of
approbation at the wonderful good fortune of Ferodia rose from every
side; then, when these had subsided, Moto said:

"Oh, Kalulu, if what I have done for thee deserves kindness at thy
hands, and if thou wert sincere when thou didst promise to be my friend,
speak to the great King of the Watuta for me, and let him give my young
master Selim, the Arab slave, as well as the three other slaves their
freedom, and let them depart to their own land, and to the friends who
will mourn for them."

"Kalulu has already given his promise to thee, Moto.  Kalulu is the
friend of thy friends, and the enemy of thy enemies.  Katalambula, the
King, hears my words, and will do this kindness for thee for what thou
hast done for me.  Speak, great King," said Kalulu, advancing to him as
he spoke.

"Ah, Kalulu!" said the King Katalambula, "thou knowest not what thou
askest, but I will do for thee what may be done.  I can intercede with
Ferodia for them, but I may not command him.  Those Arab youths are the
slaves of Ferodia; but if he is willing to exchange for them, I will
give him two female slaves for each of the Arab boy-slaves.  Will that
content thee, Kalulu?"

"I will wait until he comes here.  I will then give thee my answer.  But
I think thou givest way too much to Ferodia in all things; he likes me
not too well, because I stand between him and thy favour.  If I were
king of the Watuta, I should give Ferodia a lesson."

"Tush, boy! be not too hasty with thy tongue.  Ferodia is chief in his
own right of a large tract of country.  Dost thou wish me to take that
from him which he has won by his spear and his bow?" asked Katalambula,
slightly frowning.

"He has not won by himself, with his sword and his spear, the battle
against the Arabs.  Fight hundred of the ten hundred warriors he has
with him are thine, taken from thy country.  Wilt thou that he shall
choose for himself what he shall please to reserve, or wilt thou choose
what he shall have and what thou wilt keep?"

"Boy, boy, Ferodia is the chief warrior of the Watuta; he knows every
art of war.  He has never been beaten in the battle, either by the
Wabena, or the Warungu, or the Wawemba, or any other; and though I have
furnished him with men, he has always given me the greater and the most
valuable share.  Why wilt thou, who art but a boy, tell me these things
concerning Ferodia?  Be patient; I will ask him when he comes for these
slaves for thee.  But had it not been for the good deed this man did for
thee, I should have ordered Ferodia to roast them all alive.  Go thou,
rather, and do thy duty towards these travellers; give them food and
drink; and when they have rested, give each a house.  Then let my
daughter Lamoli be given to Moto for wife; and to this tall man give one
of my female slaves for wife.  Katalambula has spoken."

While the King was speaking he was evidently getting more peevish, for
he was old and soon tired; so Kalulu refrained from taxing his patience
further, and beckoning to Moto and Simba, he walked away with his
guests, leaving the King to be assisted by his chiefs to his quarters.

When young Kalulu arrived at his own house, or rather room--for the
entire square was surrounded but by one house--he again embraced Moto,
and promised to leave no stone unturned until he had secured the freedom
of the Arab boys.  "But," said Kalulu, "it is well for them that you are
my friend, as I do not think I can ever forgive the Arabs for murdering
my father; and the King finds it very hard to do this thing for you,
because in Mostana he lost a brother; and those of our tribe who have
travelled far to hunt and kill elephants always come back with tales of
their cruelty.  I fear if Ferodia insists on their being slaves my uncle
will not resist him; for, but for you, nothing would please him better
than to torture them, and I should have liked it too."

"Oh, Kalulu," said Moto, "you do not know Selim.  He would never have
treated a man badly, neither did his father.  Simba and I were proud to
be slaves of such a man as Amer bin Osman, and we were proud to call
Selim our young master.  Do you know that Selim is just your age, though
you are taller than he is, and you are thinner than he was; though, poor
boy! he will be thin enough when he comes here.  But how you have grown,
Kalulu! yet you cannot be more than sixteen years old!"

"I do not know how old I am," Kalulu said, laughing.  "I wae little when
I saw you, or you would never have caught me.  But I must do what the
King has commanded me to do."  And Kalulu darted out, spear in hand, his
ostrich plumes trailing over his head far behind.

Perhaps here would be a fit place to intercalate a description of the
native youth whose name forms the title-page to this strange historical
romance.

Since ancient Greece displayed the forms of her noblest, finest youth in
the Olympian games, and gave her Phidias and Praxiteles models to
immortalise in marble, all civilised nations have borrowed their ideas
of manly beauty from the statues left to us by Grecian and Roman
sculptors, because civilised nations seldom can furnish us with models
to compete with the super-excellent types designed by Greece.  While
American and English sculptors go to Rome to play with marble and
plaster, and borrow for their patterns of an athlete or perfect human
form, the vulgar, low, and uncouth lazzaroni of Rome, the centre of
Africa teems with finer specimens of manhood than may be found in this
world; such types as would even cause the marble forms of Phidias to
blush, Kalulu was one of the best specimens which the ancient sculptors
would have delighted to imitate in stone.  His face or head may not,
perhaps, have kindled any very great admiration, but the body, arms, and
limbs were unmistakably magnificent in shape.  He had not an ounce of
flesh too much, yet without the tedious training which the modern
athlete has to undergo, and following nothing but the wild instinct of
his adopted tribe, he was a perfect youthful Apollo in form.  The
muscles of his arms stood out like balls, and the muscles of his legs
were as firm as iron.  There was not one of the tribe of his age who
could send a spear so far, or draw the bow with so true and steady aim
as he, or could shoot the arrow farther.  None had such a springy,
elastic movement as he, none was so swift of foot, none followed the
chase with his ardour, none was so daring in the attack; yet with all
that constant exercise, the following of which had given him these
advantages, his form lost nothing of that surpassing grace of movement
and manly beauty for which he was styled by me, just now, a perfect
youthful Apollo.

If I give him such praise for his elegance of form and free graceful
carriage, I may not continue in the same strain in the description of
his face.  Kalulu was a negro, but his colour was not black by any
means, it was a deep brown or bronze.  His lips were thick, and,
according to our ideas, such as would not lend beauty to his face; his
nose was not flat, neither was it as correct in shape as we would wish
it; but, with the exception of lips and nose, one could find no fault
with his features.  His eyes were remarkably large, brilliant,
sparkling, and black as the blackest ink, while the whites of his eyes
were not disfigured by the slightest tinge of unhealthy yellow, nor
seamed with the red veins common to negroes of older growth.  His ears
were small and shapely, and, strange to say, the lobes were not as yet
distorted out of all form with the pieces of wood or gourd-necks, which,
unhappily, with the Watuta, are too common among their ear ornaments.
His ears were simply decorated with two Sungomazzi beads, [these beads
are as large as a pigeon's egg, and are either of coloured porcelain or
coloured glass] one to each ear, each bead suspended by a piece of very
fine brass wire.  His hair, though woolly, hung below his shoulders in a
thousand fine braids, adorned with scores of fine red, yellow, and white
beads.  His ornaments, besides those already mentioned, consisted of
three snow-white ostrich plumes, fastened in a band which ran around his
head, and which, besides holding the plumes, served to hold his hair; a
braided necklace, ivory bands above each elbow, and ivory bracelets, and
broad bead-worked anklets.

While the author has been endeavouring to portray Kalulu, that the
reader may become acquainted with his excellence, the youthful hero had
hastened to bring Lamoli to her husband; and he now appeared on the
threshold of the door with his cousin, who at once pleased Moto as much
as the King expected she would.  We will say this, however, in passing,
that though she was not by any means the loveliest of her sex, she was
neither ugly, toothless, nor old; nor was she young, pretty, or one
calculated to charm our fastidious tastes.  But Moto did not refuse her;
on the contrary, he thought it a high honour to many the daughter of a
king, and became lavish in his praise, with which Lamoli was not at all
displeased.

Having performed this marriage according to the customs of the Watuta,
Kalulu remembered that he had still another marriage on his hand, and at
once asked Simba what kind of a wife he fancied.  Simba was not at all
displeased with the idea of another wife, though he and Moto had each a
wife at Zanzibar, who had borne them children; and he at once replied
that Kalulu might choose for him.  After an absence of only a few
minutes, Kalulu returned with a young woman who might have drawn crowds
in London and New York, as the "Great African Giantess."

As he saw the gigantic couple together, Kalulu clapped his hands in high
glee, and danced about them as if he were about to receive a magnificent
gift, and laughed as he burst into a mock rhapsody.

"Lo, Kalulu has seen strange things! he has seen two trees drawn
together from a great distance! he has seen them walk together
arm-in-arm!!  Behold how the trees, the sycamore and the mtambu, the
great baobab, and the mbiti, how they nod their heads, and are pleased!!
For they rejoice that two great trees are married, and a forest of
young trees will soon sprout up.  As they move, the ground shakes and
the huts reel.  Verily this is a great day; both the ground and the huts
have been guzzling pombe--they are drunk, rejoicing over the marriages
Kalulu, the future King of the Watuta, has performed!

"Lamoli, my sweet cousin, daughter of Katalambula--of Katalambula the
great King--was sorrowing for a husband.  She was thirsting, like a pool
in the middle of the plain in a long summer.  She, the flower of
Katalambula's household, was sick for a husband.  But the day came--ah,
happy day!  A man from afar--from the island in the sea--he came, he saw
me, I knew him.  He was my friend; and in him Katalambula--Katalambula
the great King--found a husband for his daughter--a mate for Lamoli.

"Ah, Lamoli!  Lamoli!  Lamoli! weep no more; but laugh until thy mouth
reaches from ear to ear, and I, Kalulu, thy cousin, can see the joy
welling from thy throat, like living water springing from a rock!
Laugh, Lamoli, sweet Lamoli! so that the unmarried women of all Ututa
may hear and envy thee; so they may rend their bosoms with rage, or
crush themselves to death with the over-weight of their ornaments.
Laugh, Lamoli, sweet Lamoli! until every foot of man and woman moves to
the sound of thy happy laughter!  And thou, tall woman of Ututa! do thou
laugh and sing, until all the tall trees of Ututa will become jealous of
thee! we then may have rain.  And thou, Simba, tall man from afar, well
named the Lion! roar for joy, and thou wilt hear the wild lions of the
forest roar in concert with thee, and each will be roused to fury,
roaring for their loving mates.  But enough; be happy, and raise
warriors for your tribes.  Kalulu is not a singer; he is a young
warrior, who is learning how to throw the spear and shoot with the bow.
The singers are coming with drums to do you honour, for such are the
King's commands."

While Kalulu had been thus employing himself, a company of drummers,
eight in number, two tumblers,--or, as we should call them, two
mountebanks,--and fifty couples of young men and women had formed
themselves in a circle; and as Kalulu ceased speaking, the Magic Doctor,
or Mganga, as the natives called him, raised his voice and sang the
marriage song, while he danced in an ecstatic manner as he sang.  I
should also say, before giving the song, that the smallest drums only
accompanied his voice, while the great drums thundered together when the
chorus was given by the dancers.  The words were, as near as they can be
translated:

  We sing the happy marriage song,
  We sound the drum, and beat the gong
  In honour of Lamoli!
  She is the daughter of a king,
  Yet she spent her days in weeping,
  Being left alone and sorrowing.

  Poor sorrowing Lamoli!
  _Chorus_.
  Oh, Lamoli!
  Poor Lamoli!
  Sorrowing
  Lamoli!

  A day has come, ah, happy day!
  That brought a stranger in the way
          Of sorrowing Lamoli!
  Long ago the stranger did a deed,
  A friendly deed, in time of need,
  Which won for him the lover's meed.
          Sweet Lamoli!
      _Chorus_.  Oh, Lamoli!
          Sweet Lamoli!
          Charming Lamoli!

  This stranger sav'd young Kalulu
  From cruel bonds at Kwikuru.
          The good stranger!
  Kalulu swore to this brave man,
  As long as life-blood in him ran,
  To praise the name to every man
          Of this brave stranger!
      _Chorus_.  Oh, stranger!
          Good stranger!
          Brave stranger!

  This man has come to Tuta Land,
  This man who sav'd with friendly hand
          Our young Kalulu!
  Shall we deny him our faint praise?
  Shall we refuse him wedlock lays?
  Shall we not wish him happiest days?
          Who sav'd Kalulu?
  _Chorus_.  Oh, Kalulu!
          Young Kalulu!
          Brave Kalulu!

  Our great King heard the stranger's name,
  And nearer to him the stranger came,
          To Katalambula!
  He said, "I've known this story long,
  A Mtuta's memory is strong.
  I love the good and hate the wrong,"
          Said Katalambula!
      _Chorus_.  Oh, Katalambula!
          Good Katalambula!
          Great Katalambula!

  Give him house, give him home.  You boy!
  Give him pombe and food.  Give him joy!
          Give him Lamoli!
  Brave man! take the pride of our race;
  Take the dearest girl with the loveliest face.
  Live in the shade of our kingly mace
          With good Lamoli!
      _Chorus_.  Oh, Lamoli!
          Good Lamoli!
          Sweet Lamoli!

  We sing the happy marriage song.
  We sound the drum and beat the gong
          For joy with Lamoli.
  Now a wife, no longer weeping,
  No more to spend her days in mourning,
  She will be for ever laughing,
          Happy Lamoli!
      _Chorus_.  Oh, Lamoli!
          Charming Lamoli!
          Happy Lamoli!

The music accompanying this song was slow and sweet, worthy of the great
occasion on which it was given.  During the chorus, the dancing became
more lively, and each man and woman lifted the voice high, which created
a grand and majestic volume of sound, while the drums were beaten with a
terrific vigour.  The festivities lasted all the day and night, until
sunrise next morning; but during the night they were better attended,
nearly a thousand souls joining in the song and chorus.  Kalulu and many
others were hoarse from over-exertion of voice, when they retired next
morning to rest.

Having brought Simba and Moto to their temporary home and through their
difficulties, let us now withdraw from this scene for a while, and see
how it fares with the Arab boy-slaves and Ferodia's caravan.



CHAPTER SIX.

SUFFERINGS OF SELIM, ABDULLAH, AND MUSSOUD--IN THE SLAVE-GANG--ISA
SEIZED WITH SMALL-POX--ISA LEFT BEHIND TO DIE--SELIM'S PRAYER--SELIM
PROPOSES TO ESCAPE--SELIM'S PREPARATION--SELIM'S ESCAPE--THE ROAR OF THE
KING OF THE FOREST--SELIM SHOOTS A LION--SELIM SHOOTS AN ANTELOPE--HE
SUFFERS FROM HUNGER--HE FALLS FAINTING TO THE GROUND--SELIM'S DESPAIR--
HIS REFLECTIONS--HE GIVES HIMSELF UP TO DIE.

Although the caravan started the day after the departure of Simba and
Moto, it could not of course travel so fast as two fugitives; so that
the journey, which only occupied a few days with our two friends, lasted
nearly a month with Ferodia's caravan.

Ferodia, the chief of the Watuta caravan, had besides four Arab slaves--
three of whom were perfectly white--nearly three hundred black slaves,
who had been captured in the battle of Kwikuru.  If the report was
spread abroad that he possessed so many slaves, as would undoubtedly be
the case, he would soon be visited by traders from Unyanyembe and from
Kilwa, and perhaps, if he waited long enough, from Tette, on the Zambezi
river; so it was for his advantage to travel slowly, not only that the
rumour might have time to spread, but also to give the human cattle
plenty of time to recover from their wounds.

The marches were, therefore, commenced at six o'clock in the morning,
and seldom lasted longer than noon, as the first part of the country
through which he now travelled was extremely populous and rich, and each
chief was friendly to him and his men; but after the tenth day he neared
the debatable ground, consisting of extensive tracts of forest and
jungle, lying between Urori and Ututa, and inhabited by no living being,
except wild beasts.  From the farthest westerly point of this debatable
tract, there were three long marches, or say ninety miles, to
Katalambula's country.

Having explained so much, let us glean what may be interesting to the
general reader of the incidents of this march relating to the slaves.

Besides suffering intensely from the heat, Selim, Abdullah, and Mussoud
suffered excessively from the loads which they were compelled to carry,
and which chafed their tender shoulders frightfully.  For the first
three days they went entirely naked, as it must not be supposed that,
because the Watuta were rich in clothes, they possessed one yard too
much, or that they could have dispensed with a yard for the comfort of
slaves.

Slaves are cattle, are supposed too often to be able to live like
cattle, and are therefore treated like cattle.  So these three hundred
slaves were chained--for chains, it must be confessed, were part of the
plunder which the Watuta had found in the Arab camp--by twenties; an
iron collar ran around the neck of each adult, while the boys, Selim,
Abdullah, Mussoud, Isa, and the negro boys, among whom, it must be
remembered, was our mischievous Niani, or the monkey, and others, were
tied by ropes around the waist, about six feet apart, the tallest first.
Of the adult slaves there were fifteen herds, or gangs of twenties,
each gang being superintended by a sub-chief or a trustworthy warrior,
and there was one gang of boys which were looked after by Tifum Byah.

I have already said that the slaves were cattle.  The word cattle must
be understood by the reader in its most literal sense.  Decency was
therefore out of the question.  If one needed to wash his face in camp,
the whole gang, accompanied by the chief, were obliged to march out for
the convenience of this one.  If from any cause a man required to fall
out of the line, there was a halt and a constant worrying of the
unfortunate wretch until the caravan had been overtaken.  If one needed
a drop of water all had to stop.  In all gangs and crews of slaves there
is always one calling for something or requiring something more than his
fellows; and this to the others is a source of vexation, because the
chief who has charge is soon irritated if such a proceeding is carried
too far, and he is not slow to avail himself of the rod to quicken the
footsteps of the lagging gang.

In the boy's gang, Isa was one of those who continually required to
halt, and all the boys suffered in consequence, especially Selim, whose
file-leader was the lagging and unfortunate lea.

Niani saw through the trick of lea in a very short time, and no doubt he
would have remained silent about it, had he not seen that his young
master Selim suffered through it.  For two or three days of the march
Niani held his peace, but when Selim received a more than usually severe
beating from Tifum Byah, Niani exploded, and told the chief, to his
surprise, that he was whipping the wrong boy, that it was Isa who was
the cause of the stoppage; whereupon Isa received a severe punishment
with the ever-ready kurbash (hippopotamus-hide whip).  While Selim had
been whipped Isa had never expressed any great sympathy with him, but
when he was punished himself his cries and groans were dreadfully long
and loud, and in the camp he was constantly bewailing his hard lot, and
always threatening that supple-minded and tough-bodied little negro
Niani for his expose of him.

On the evening of the fifth day after their arrival at camp, Niani, who
knew how to like and how to hate, said aloud to Selim, as soon as he had
an opportunity, that he would much prefer if Selim took his waist-cloth.
Selim refused it upon the ground that he would have none left for
himself.

"Oh, but, Master Selim," said Niani, "I am but a little nigger; no one
will mind me.  I wanted to give it to you before, but I did not like to
offer my cloth to you, because it is dirty."

"Anything is better than nothing.  I will take it with thanks, since you
say you don't want it; but won't you keep a little of it for yourself?"

"Not an inch," said Niani, resolutely.  "I don't want a cloth anyhow--
never did want it; besides that is the cloth you gave me that night I
tripped Isa, and cruel Isa was going to put me on the fire."

Selim then rose up to put this filthy piece of torn cotton cloth around
his waist; but as he was about to put it on, he saw his friends Abdullah
and Mussoud looking wistfully up; and their colour, as well as his own,
made them look all too nude for a country where all skins were black.
Without saying a word he measured the cloth in three equal pieces, and
tore it into three equal strips, one of which he presented to Abdullah,
another to Mussoud, and the other he reserved for himself.  The two boys
rose up, blushing gratefully, and Abdullah said to Selim:

"Thy heart is as soft as fine gold.  The cloth is not six inches wide,
but I feel more grateful to thee than ever I did when I received fine
daoles (rich gold-worked cloth) at the hand of my father, Mohammed, whom
may God preserve!  A pure heart like thine will not long go unrewarded
at the hand of Allah."

"Thou mightest have given me a piece," said Isa to Selim, in a
complaining tone.

"How can you talk so, Master Isa?" asked Niani.  "Your skin is as black
as mine; sure, you look as though you were clothed already.  You should
be happy in having a black skin, instead of wanting a piece out of
nothing."

"A truce to your insolence, Niani, or I will come and break every bone
in your body," said Isa, angrily.

"You had better not, Isa, because I am a slave of Ferodia, the Mtuta
chief; and if you kill me, Ferodia will kill you," answered Niani.

"Well, then, hold your tongue, and don't torment me.  I am sick of life
already, and sick in mind and body," said Isa.

"Dost thou suffer much, lea?" asked Selim.

"Indeed I do.  My head aches as if it would split, and all down my back
run sharp pains.  They are not the pains which that savage dog Tifum
made, but something else.  I think there is something serious the matter
with me," moaned poor suffering Isa.

"I hope not," said Selim.  "Cheer up, lea, my friend; we have only to
reach Katalambula to have rest.  This march cannot last for ever."

"I shall never reach the country of the accursed Watuta," said Isa.  "My
illness is too serious."

"Why, what can the matter be with thee, my friend?"

"Don't start, Selim, and don't curse me when I tell you that I have the
_jederi_ (the small-pox)."

"The small-pox!  What makes thee think that?"  Selim asked.

"I have seen it often enough, and have seen the men die on the road from
it, and I fear I shall die too," said Isa, mournfully.

The next morning Isa was very much worse, and it was obvious to every
one that the boy had it very badly, but he was not permitted to halt or
to be carried.  Slaves are not carried: there are no means of carrying
sick slaves in Africa, and so he was driven along with the rest; but
about ten o'clock, after four hours' march, as they were approaching a
forest, the sick lad became delirious, and he began to reel like a
drunken man, and after a short time the load fell from his head, and as
Tifum came up raging furiously at this weakness, Isa fell across his
bale with his eyes half protruding from their sockets, and his tongue
hanging out.  But Tifum had no sense of kindness in his heart; so he
began to flog the unfortunate wretch with all the force that an
unnatural cruelty alone could have impelled, until Selim, unable longer
to bear the disgusting sight, hurled the load he carried on his head
full at the head of the savage ruffian, and while he was down he
snatched the whip from his hand, and began to belabour him with all his
might until he was overthrown himself on the ground by the infuriated
Tifum, and belaboured in his turn until Tifum was obliged to desist lest
he might kill him.

Gutting the rope which joined the prostrate bodies of the boys, the one
insensible from violence, the other from a deadly sickness, he called
for a gourdful of water, and pouring it on Selim's head; soon restored
him to consciousness.  Then the refined cruelty of the slave-traders,
and the utter abomination of the inhuman traffic, began to be exhibited.
Trembling with rage and merciless hate, he called for the long, heavy,
wooden yoke, which, furnished with two prongs a little apart from each
other, is used for the most refractory slaves.  When green, this
yoke-tree weighs about thirty pounds, but dry it generally weighs about
twenty pounds.  One of these tree-yokes had been prepared but a few days
before, so that it could not be much reduced in weight from what it
weighed originally.  This was the clumsy, heavy instrument of torture
with which Tifum designed to encumber Selim's body.

After the neck of the half-unconscious lad was placed between the
prongs, the ends of the prongs were drawn together by means of a strong
cord, so that the head remained firmly imprisoned, while the huge
unwieldly tree of the yoke sloped behind him about ten feet off from his
shoulders.

In order to avoid employing a guard to carry the tree, the end was
lifted up and tied to Abdullah's shoulders and arm.

When things had thus been prepared for the continuance of the march
Tifum proceeded to the dying Isa, and seeing it was hopeless to expect
further work from him, as the look of death was already on his face, the
savage fiend bestowed a kick on the body, and swishing his kurbash
warningly, gave the hint to Selim, who was now the file-leader, to
proceed.  In a short time the caravan was out of sight, while the
unfortunate Isa was left in the middle of the road to gasp his last,
unseen, unwept, and unhonoured.

On the twentieth day of the march it was found that little Mussoud was
attacked with the small-pox.  Numbers of the slaves had already perished
from this fell disease; for as fast as they fell from the ranks and
could not rise again, despite repeated applications of the staff of a
spear, or a rod, or a kurbash, they were left to die the miserable death
of deserted sick where they fell, and not one thought was ever directed
to them again.

Thus when Mussoud became sick, the alarm of his brother Abdullah and his
friend Selim was extreme.  They requested permission to share the burden
of his load by having it tied to the yoke-tree with which Selim's neck
was still furnished, but the slight request was refused, and when the
latter's eyes again flashed a dangerous light, Tifum, who saw that he
had a stubborn soul to deal with, replied with another dose of vigorous
lashing on the boy's shoulders until they were one mass of weals and
bruises.

Selim uttered not a word nor moan; he was getting to be past all feeling
of bodily pain, though his heart was keenly alive and sensitive.  While
plodding along in this manner under the burning sun, no sound breaking
the soft shuffling sound of the tramp of naked feet of the slaves,
except a low moan now and then from poor little Mussoud, and Tifum had
retired to vent his spite upon those in the rear, it struck him as a
sudden idea that he was being punished more cruelly than the others
because, despite the fine religious education he had received, he had of
late, since he had been in bondage, forgotten the God of his fathers,
whom Amer had counselled him so often never to forget.  His conscience
was not a whit more hardened; the reason of this neglect was the
delicacy he felt in approaching his God with unwashed hands and feet;
but now he determined to avail himself of the first opportunity of a
halt, and prepare himself for prayer.

After repeated prayers from the sick boy Mussoud to Tifum to give him
one little halt to rest, it was at last granted; more, however, to give
Tifum an opportunity to light his pipe than for the sake of the sick
boy.

No sooner had Tifum turned his back, than Selim bent down and began to
scrape together the dry, white, sandy dust from the road, and to rub his
feet, and hands, and face, and body with it, as if he were washing
himself; then turning his face to the north-east, in the direction of
Mecca, he began his prayer in a whisper:

"Oh, Thou who art the light of heaven and earth, whom all creatures
praise, unto whom all things belongeth, thou bounteous, wise, and
compassionate God! be gracious and merciful to one of the true
believers, who now standeth before Thy footstool.

"Thou art great, Thou art holy, Thou art almighty, Oh God! and unto
those who invoke Thee Thou hast promised, through Thy prophet Mohammed,
blessed be his name! to be attentive and to lend assistance.

"Thou all-knowing and gracious God! avert from me the torments of
Jehenna, which I suffer at the hands of these infidel savages.

"The unbelievers have laid cruel hands upon me, a true believer, and a
son of a true believer.  Lo! they have bound me like unto a sheep about
to be slaughtered; they have laid their whips upon me, the cruel thongs
have cut into my bones, and with their sharp spears have they gashed me.

"Thou Powerful and Self-sufficient God!  Thou hast promised to protect
the fatherless and the orphan, and to be solicitous for him, and to
punish those who oppress him.

"Thou compassionate and loving God! let the orphan's cries take the form
of prayers, and suffer them to ascend unto Thee before Thy footstool,
and do Thou bow down Thine head, and let them penetrate Thine ear.

"Thou one, only, and eternal God! hearken compassionately onto my
prayers, and rescue me from the unbelievers.

"Thou Lord of men, King of men, and God of men! save me from mine
enemies, by the promise Thou hast given unto all true believers through
Thy holy apostle Mohammed, and be Thy heart softened toward the orphan,
and hear his prayers."

When Selim had finished this urgent, sincere appeal to his God, he
prostrated himself to the earth, and then rose refreshed in body and
spirit.

Turning to Abdullah, who had been attending to his brother, he said:

"Abdullah, my friend, I feel refreshed and strong.  I have a bright idea
in my head."

"I have seen you pray, Selim, and have wished that I could pray, too;
but my heart is too bitter for prayer.  I feel as if I could curse all
men, and myself, and die.  Poor Mussoud's days are numbered, I fear: and
if he dies, I do not care what becomes of me."

"But, my dear friend, the Kuran says: `When thou art in distress pray to
thy God and He will hear thee; His ear is open to the oppressed.'"

"I know it, Selim, but I cannot pray now.  I fear I should curse God for
permitting his faithful to be treated as we have been.  Listen to the
moans of my brother, and think of his being left to die all alone in the
road, because, if he cannot march, they will not let me remain with him!
But what is thy bright idea, Selim?"

"My idea is to run away to-night, and go to the depths of this forest.
Far better to die there than lead this life so wretched.  If one of
these people can trust himself in the forest, why may I not do so?  They
have not been able to kill me with all the weight of their cruelties.
The forest were far kinder than these inhuman Watuta."

"And my brother, what of him?"

"We will take him with us; and when we are alone, safe from our
pursuers, we will be able to nurse him.  We will build ourselves a
strong little hut near some nice stream, where we shall be safe and
quiet; and while you are watching your sick brother, I will take my
spear and go out to gather wild fruit and honey.  But, hush!  Here comes
Tifum.  Help Mussoud to his feet, and let him hold up until to-night."

Just then the stern signal to march was given, and the boys turned
industriously and submissively to their bales; and Mussoud feeling
relieved by the rest, the caravan set out at its usual pace.

About noon they halted in the forest, and, knowing that no danger from
men was to be feared in the forest, the Watuta were heedless of the
usual boma or brush fence around the camp.

The boy-gang being tied together, were of course inseparable, and
Abdullah, in his usual place, sat next to Selim, as they munched their
roasted Indian corn or their half-boiled holcus grains.  Mussoud was
accustomed to sit next to Selim, but owing to his illness he was placed
outside the camp, as all the Watuta knew this disease was contagious,
and what danger lay to the whole unvaccinated camp by the dread presence
of the small-pox.

At night they were still together, Selim and Abdullah.  Inside the
circle of the camp were men seated in circles near the fire, discussing
various topics.  Outside the camp, in the deep, deep night was perfect
silence; not a sound broke upon the ear, save now and then the uneasy
growl of the hyena.

"Well, Abdullah," said Selim, "the night has come, and thou must decide
what thou wilt do."

"Dear Selim, I cannot go and leave my brother.  Poor Mussoud will not
live till to-morrow morning.  I am afraid he is very ill to-night.  His
head was so hot, and he did not seem to know me.  If thou goest away I
shall be alone of us all.  Poor Isa is dead already; Mussoud is dying;
and thou wilt be gone; and I shall be alone."

"Well, Abdullah, if thou dost not go, I shall.  I am tired of this life.
I wish to die.  I am not afraid of death, but it shall never be said
that Selim, the son of Amer, died like an ass in the road, to be spurned
by the foot of that dog Tifum, like poor Isa was.  If I am to die, let
me die like an Arab, with none but my God to pity my wretchedness, with
none but the birds of the air around my bed.  Do me this favour,
Abdullah, friend of my heart.  If Mussoud still lives in the morning,
tell him Selim is gone, and give him one kiss for me; and before thou
goest to sleep thou must give me one, for when thou wakest up in the
morning, Selim, the son of Amer, will be gone.  The lashing of this
clumsy yoke around my neck is already loose; it only requires a second
to be free."

"I thank thee, Selim, for this thought of my brother.  I wish thee God's
peace and blessing.  If I live after this hard march, I shall dream and
ever think of thee, and shall sometimes whisper thy name in my prayers,
that the angels may carry it to thy ear, and that some memory of
Abdullah, thy friend, may be preserved in thy heart.  Thou art a true
Arab, son of Amer, a true friend; thy soul is a jewel, brighter and
purer than the diamond.  On the road to thy home look up at night to
those seven stars which thou seest together, and say to thyself,
`Abdullah thinks of me.  Poor Abdullah!'  May the holy Mohammed take
thee to thy mother, and when thou art welcomed back to thy friends,
think of my mother, and bear to her the kindly remembrance of her son.
Selim, dear friend, I am about to compel myself to sleep, that I may be
ready for my morrow's work.  See!  I kiss thee with the kiss of lasting
friendship, and, since thou goest, be strong with Abdullah's faith that
Allah will save thee!"

They then both lay down, and, after a few uneasy tossings, Abdullah fell
asleep, while Selim also lay down to plan out his march.  Suddenly he
remembered the parting words of Simba and Moto, and wondered to himself
how he had not thought of them before, as they would have enabled him to
bear up with a little more patience and fortitude the trials he had
undergone.  But they came not too late; he felt that with such friends
as those he was not alone in the world, and he resolved on leaving the
camp to strike south, then wait a day in the woods, and afterwards
strike off through the forest until he came near to a village in Ututa,
and then lie in wait for some one who would direct him to Katalambula.
A cruel thought came across his mind once, to stab Tifum with his own
spear, but he instantly rejected it as unworthy of an Arab and the son
of Amer bin Osman.

The hours passed by, but not wearily, as Selim's thoughts had been busy.
All slept soundly, and the fires also seemed to have fallen into
drowsiness, for nothing but dull red embers marked the places where the
fires stood.

He muttered a short prayer to God for courage and strength, and the
lashings of the cruel yoke fell apart, and he drew his head through,
free.  Free! not yet.

He stood up silently, walked straight to a tree deliberately but
noiselessly, chose a couple of spears, a gun, a powder horn, and a
cartouche box, and began to withdraw as stealthily as he had advanced.

It seemed an age to him, the time before he began to congratulate
himself that he was safe; for so precious were the articles in his
possession, and so rich seemed the prospect of freedom.

A few long strides brought him from tree to tree, and the more he
counted of these trees the more certain was he of safety.  Tree after
tree was passed, their tall thick columns--taller and thicker by night--
formed a denser rampart between him and his enemies, an impenetrable
protection against pursuit.

Finally, he was free!  Free he felt, freely he walked, freely he
thought, and the new idea, as it settled in his mind, seemed to fill him
to strangling, it had such power of expansion; the lungs were more
inflated, the stride became firmer, the head assumed a prouder air, and
the back of him straightened rigid!

He was impelled forward, fatigue seemed to fly from him, an eager
urgency of movement seemed to have come upon him; he was walking against
time for freedom!

An endless number of dark solemn trees were passed, countless numbers of
acres in front, behind, and around him, of this tree-covered upland, and
still it remained night.  To darkness there seemed no end, nor did he
want it to have end; he wished it would ever remain night and his
enemies ever sleep.

But though the night was long, and friendlily sheltered him with its
kind mantle of impenetrability, through which a fugitive was not
visible, it had an end, for all things have an end; but Selim and the
Watuta camp were far apart!

Daylight--a dull grey mantle seemingly, which night had put on for a
fickle change--appeared, but greyer and greyer it came through the
foliage above; it then came pale, and then a steely blue.  A streak of
silver light shot athwart his path; the foliage was a bright green, and
the leaves moved responsively, gently sighing to the morning wind!

How cool, how fresh it was!  How newly-born seemed the world, while the
hum of busy insect life told him there were other creatures, after their
rest, rejoicing in the new light of day!

It became full day, for the sun, a round globe of living fire, or like a
fiery balloon, surged upward light and airily.  But oh! with what
different feelings he gazed upon it now.  Yesterday it was hateful with
its dry heat and blister, and its thirst-begetting warmth; to-day it was
like a huge lamp hoisted up to the sky to light the dim and lengthy
aisles of the forest.  There was no heat nor thirst in its appearance,
nothing but strengthful vigour and cheery light!

At noon, Selim came to a quiet pool in the forest; the lotus flowers
rose like yellow cups above its surface, while the leaves lay languidly
flat.  All around the rim the pool was garnished with these water
flowers of Africa; and, so decked, it looked like a great shallow dish
adorned with a pictured border!  How delicious did the water taste!  How
cool and tranquil the spot!  What deep silence pervaded the forest at
noon!  How soothing to the fugitive soul!

A little distance off he espied a large baobab, which had a hole in its
body.  Walking to it and looking in, he saw the hole led to a large
hollow in the tree, as large as a small chamber.  He crept in, for it
was empty, and there he laid down to rest, and finally he slept.  He had
escaped, and was safe!

It was night when he awoke; he must have slept eight or ten hours; there
were no means of knowing how many.  It was evidently a hard task to wake
up, for after the first movement indicating life, he lay still, and
tried to compel the sodden brain to recover its duty, and the eyes to
aid it by piercing that thick darkness of the natural chamber in which
he found himself.  Bit by bit, the senses resumed the old order of
things.  Mind stirred up, and gave its master to know that he had run
away from a most cruel slavery.  Ah! yes! and, the keyword touched, all
became clear.

"The Watuta!--that torturing yoke-tree, and the sleepless nights it
caused me! my galled shoulders, my wealed back, my racking head! that
monster Tifum! that fierce man-animal whom pity never touched! that
pariah dog-face, repulsive in its animal malignity! those thick lips
which uttered such horrible blasphemy! that always-ready whip!  Who can
forget him?  May the foul mother who bore him, and her fouler son,
perish like one of those whose fate will be Al Hotamah!

"All is clear to my mind now.  I am free!  Arise, my soul, for further
freedom; the dark night is kinder than day.  The wilderness will take
more pity on me than man.  Shake thyself, son of Amer, thy mother is
patiently waiting for thee; thy kinsmen at Zanzibar still look for thee.
Courage, my heart, there is nothing to fear."

He rose to his feet and looked out.  "Is that a beast, or is it my timid
fancy which creates such a shape?  Hush, that was a step! a slow,
stealthy step of padded feet; no man alone in the wilds would walk on
all fours.  Hush, but a moment.  Ah! what is it?"

For just then an unearthly laugh--terrible in its satiric wildness of
tone--rang through the forest.  It was startling for a moment, because
it was unexpected, and fearful, because it seemed to challenge all the
denizens of the wilds.  "What beast can it be?

"Ah!  I remember now.  Moto has told me of it.  It is only a hyaena, and
the hungry fellow has scented a prey.  Not yet, my friend, can I be
thine.  Selim is safe from thy jaws.  He must see Zanzibar first, before
any of thy species can eat him.  Oh God!--"

The satiric laugh of the hyaena was succeeded now by a roar which echoed
through the forest, and another and another succeeded it, which almost
deafened the lad with its volume and power.  No animal but the dread
king of the forest could have emitted such sounds, and there is nothing
more startling than the first sudden bellowing outburst of his lungs--it
is so deep, so protracted; but, as if he expends the concentrated power
of his lungs in the first roar, the others which succeed it come out in
short, gasping, rasping sounds, which seem to chase one another as they
peal through the forest in quick succession.  Though the first sudden
outburst is startling, even appalling, when unexpected, a certain
feeling of admiration quickly succeeds the first fear, at the volume and
the force of it, and at the echoes which it wakes up.

"It is a lion!" said Selim to himself when he had regained his
bewildered senses; "the king of beasts.  I have often desired to see
thee and to hear thee, but I may not venture too near thee, as I fear
thy claws and thy cavernous mouth.  Halt where thou art until dawn, my
friend, and I will look at thee well, but just now I will remain here.
Ah, that is right; thou comest nearer, but I have a gun, and there is a
bullet in it, O lion, so thou hadst better keep a respectful distance.
The window through which I look at thee is too small for thee to enter;
besides, king of beasts, I need no companion like thee in this small
chamber with me.  How my bones would crack under thy strong jaws, and
what a delicious morsel thou wouldst deem me.  The _hulwah_ of Muscat [a
species, of sweets made in Muscat, Arabia] were as nothing to it; the
honey of thy native wilds were bitter compared with my flesh, and bones,
and warm blood.  Nay, I beseech thee keep thy distance, O lion.  If thou
art hungry catch that laughing devil of a hyaena; but me, poor me, thou
wilt surely not harm me!"

But the lion had advanced nearer to the tree; he had also scented a
prey, and while he knew that the prey was contained within the tree, he
was doubtful whether he could obtain the wherewithal to satisfy his
hunger, and this was why he advanced roaring.

Arriving at the foot of the tree he halted, and stood looking up at the
tempting morsel.  As if he heard and understood the low-spoken words
which the Arab youth addressed to him, he uttered another terrific roar.
This caused Selim to draw in instinctively and seize his gun, but at
the same instant the lion's form came bounding in at the hole through
which Selim had entered, where he clung tenaciously with his claws, and
endeavoured to drag himself in.  Then Selim, with his heart in his mouth
at the dreadful presence, put the muzzle of the gun against the lion's
head and fired, and the monster fell dead outside.

Selim, finding it dangerous to leave his friendly shelter, resolved to
remain where he was until morning, and after he had listened, a long
time at the aperture of the tree, and became satisfied that the lion was
dead, he laid down again on the floor of his natural chamber, and,
happily for one in his situation, fell asleep once more.

About two hours after dawn he awoke, and immediately going to the
window, he looked down, and when he saw the dead lion stretched stiff at
the foot of the tree, he said to himself:

"He would have it; he would not listen to me.  Like Tifum he revelled in
his strength, and was conscious of his might, and, like him, he wished
to rend and tear me, but I have a gun, and I would that Tifum came after
me, so that I could give him the same answer I gave this lion."

As he spoke, he placed his spears outside, then his: gun, then went out
himself, and, taking his weapons up, he stood by the body of the lion.

The following thoughts, though unexpressed, ran through his mind:

"Behold! how strong this lion was early last night--how proud his pace
as he roamed through the silent forest looking for his prey!  All the
animals ran from before him, and left him lone in his proud strength.
As if they knew his power, the echoes submissively sent his voice
pealing through the long colonnades of the forest, like the heralds
trumpeting the approach of a king.  His eyes pierced the darkness and
searched the night, his nostrils scented prey and blood, and he came and
stood before me, the relentless tyrant of the wilderness!  His great,
flaming eyes glowed red with rage, his nostrils dilated wide as he
thought of his hunger and the prospective feast; he pawed the ground and
whirled his tail in fury, and tossing his mane back impatiently, he
sprang at me and met his death.

"Now, how weak!  An unarmed infant might play with his mane and pull at
his great teeth.  There lies no more danger in him; and as he is, so may
all my enemies be!  Farewell, thou lion!  I would have preferred thou
were not so unclean.  My hunger is now sharp, and woe befall the hoofed
animal I meet, but thee I may not eat."

Then Selim, shouldering his gun and spears, having observed the sun, and
found out the direction he intended to go, strode on, looking keenly to
the right and left for any game that might promise him relief from the
gnawing pangs of hunger he began to feel.  He had been now thirty-six
hours without food, for he had disdained to steal the rations of his
comrades, as he might have done, knowing from experience that the slave
who lost his rations or consumed them before the next distribution of
food was very apt to suffer, as none of his fellows, having nothing too
much for himself, could find charity enough in his own destitution to
share with him.

Thirty-six hours is a long period for a growing boy to be without food,
and Selim began to feel it.  There were none of those wild fruit-trees,
so common in Ukonongo, and Kawendi, and Usowa, the mbembu, the singwe
(the wild wood-peach and plum); no wild grape nor nux vomica fruit, as
in the south-eastern forests of Urori.  The long, extensive plain south
of the Cow River seems to have made two zones, different from each
other, of Southern Unyamwezi and South-western Urori.  The trees in this
forest were more adapted for building purposes; but had Selim understood
the ways of wild life in the forest, had he been anything but the
tenderly-nurtured and pampered youth from Zanzibar, even here he might
have found plenty of eatable roots.  There was no lack of these about
him; the roots of those long, slender, primate-leafed plants, on which
he trod, he would have found to be as nutritious as the yams of
Zanzibar.  But the boy was innocent of this knowledge, and so he kept
on, seldom looking on the ground, except when he began to feel
disheartened.

As it was approaching sunset, however, he espied a small antelope
crouching behind the bushes about fifty yards from him.  Lifting his
gun, with a prayer for success, he fired, and the animal, after making
two or three convulsive leaps, fell wounded on its side.  Hurrying up,
he caught it as it was about to rise to its feet, and using one of his
spears as a knife, looked towards the north-east, in the direction of
Mecca, and uttering his fervent "Bismillah"--(in the name of God!) the
pious youth cut its throat.

Then, proceeding with the work of preparing the meat, he cut off the
head, skinned the animal, and extracted the inward parts, which he left
for the hyaenas, while the eatable portions he conveyed to the fork of a
great tree, where he intended to rest that night.

Hastily collecting some dry leaves, twigs, and sticks, he conveyed these
also to the fork of the tree, and with the aid of some powder, he
succeeded, after much patient work, in making a fire, over which he
placed whole pieces of the antelope to roast, or rather to warm, for his
ravenous hunger would not permit him to wait for the roast.

Had Selim understood the art of travelling, he would, of course, have
cut the meat into thin strips, and have dried them slowly over the fire,
and by this means have furnished himself with sufficient food for two or
three days.  But not knowing the art, he had placed all the pieces over
the fire at once, believing, doubtless, like many other hungry people,
that he could eat them all at one meal.  Before, however, he had eaten
half of one leg, he felt gorged; and feeling tired, put out the fire,
raked all the ashes away, and when the fire-place had cooled somewhat,
he laid himself down, with his legs coiled, and went to sleep.

In the morning, before starting on his journey again, he ate the other
half of the leg, out of which he had formed his supper, and tying the
other three legs together, he descended the tree and resumed his march.

During that day he was more bent upon walking than upon anything else;
consequently he made a good day's march.  At night, when he began to eat
his supper, perched, like the night before, in the fork of a great tree,
he perceived the meat was tainted, but as he had no other means of
gratifying his hunger, he suppressed the rising nausea, and contentedly
ate the ill-smelling meat.

In the morning the meat swarmed with maggots, and he tossed it from him
with disgust, and, without breakfast, resumed his journey.  During the
morning he travelled, at noon he rested; and for a couple of hours in
the afternoon he contrived to hold on, until, faint with hunger, he was
compelled to halt and go to sleep supperless also.

Another day dawned, and Selim, descending from his perch, resolutely
determined upon prosecuting his journey.  The forest was unusually
silent and deserted; not an animal crossed his path; a few kites alone
hovered above.  Hour after hour he dragged his weakened legs along till
the sun was sinking over the western horizon.  He had seen no water on
this day, and thirst sharply and severely attacked his frame.

And still another day dawned.  Hunger and thirst had made great inroads
on his strength, and had begun to sap his resolution.  If he had but
known that a few hours ahead of him lay the corn-fields of the Watuta
villages, or if he had but known that only a mile north of the line he
traversed lay the road over which Ferodia's caravan had travelled two
days before!  But enveloped round about by the great forest, to which
there seemed to be no end, he knew nothing,--tiny mite that he was,
alongside of one of those straight-stemmed and towering trees,--beyond
the thin line of vision which his low stature permitted him.  Could he
only have seen one foot above those trees, he had been safe, and could
have directed his steps whither he desired.  But he could barely see the
sky, so dense was the foliage and so closely did each tree's branches
embrace the other.  How hard it is to strive to attain the end of the
interminable!  What a seeming waste of strength is it to ever work and
work to span the infinite!  How disheartening it is to one to feel that
he can never live to see the end of the endless!  Interminable,
infinite, and endless seemed this forest to the wearied, hungry, and
thirsty Selim.  He strained his eyes ever in his front, hoping that
every low swell of the ground would enable him to see something
encouraging; he looked in all directions for anything bearing the
semblance of a living creature, of beast, or fowl; he looked upwards,
striving to gain a glimpse of the serene face of heaven, which, in his
present state of mind and body, would have afforded him momentary
relief.  Had he been more experienced in African travelling he would
have known how to procure water; he would have known that in any one of
those hollows a few hours' excavation with a pointed stick would have
procured him water, and that if there were not roots to satisfy a
craving stomach, then the land would be poor indeed.  Knowing nothing,
however, of these things, he wasted the precious hours in resting, and
then plunging nervously on his way, until his body was obliged to
confess its weakness and his starved legs refused to go.  When much time
was thus wasted, again he would rise to again fall; and, finally, he
fell fainting to the ground.  Poor boy! he was paying dearly for the
desire of his father to increase his riches by the bartering of cloth
and flimsy beads for human creatures!

After a fainting fit, which lasted some minutes, he sat up, but was too
weak to remain long even in that condition, and he fell back; and while
thus prostrate, with his eyes upward, thought was busy with the
pleasures he had been obliged to leave, and the more his body suffered
the more his thoughts loved to revel in the luxurious scenes he had
known.  Groaning from sheer agony of body, he cried aloud:

"Ah, for one sight of the foaming wave of the Zangian Sea, which curled
at morn into graceful wreaths like liquid flowers as the monsoon gently
kissed it!  One glance, if nothing more, of the snowy strand whereon I
have sported often with my playmates, little Suleiman, and lea, and
Abdullah before we plunged gaily into the foam and spray with which each
moment the sea drenched the margin of the island.  How oft, as nude I
lay stretched on the warm sandy shore, the great sun descending towards
the continent, have I watched the great ships idly rocking on that sea
which in its deep dissolving bosom of blue depths reflected as a mirror
the spotless azure of the sky!  Happy days!  Memory recalls so much that
a thousand years would never obliterate.  My dear father's happy
household gathered under the shade of the towering mangoes, whose rich
fruit, golden, and purple, and brown, hung so temptingly over my head;
the evening zephyr wind gently brushing by the light leaves as it
rustled through from one tree to another with its welcome whispers,
bending, as it flew, the tops of the kingly cocoa and the fragrant
cinnamon, wafting the rich green bough of the orange, whose precious
fruit was as a balm to my soul.  Now could I but feel one in my fevered
hand!  What ample wealth does not my mind bring before my sickened eyes!
The amber-coloured stalk of the sugar-cane and its luscious juice; dark
green leaves of orange and mangoe; great cocoa-nuts, with their
nutritious milk; the brilliant pomegranate, with its sweet soothing
odour and thirst-assuaging pippins; the soft, rich guava, with its
health-giving meat; the lime, with its yellow, golden fruit, at the mere
sight of which fever and thirst are forgotten; and melons, whose deep
green skins cover such crisp, sweet treasures.  Ah! there is no place on
earth to me like the beautiful island of Zanzibar.  It is blessed by the
beneficent God with Eden's wealth.  Streams laugh with gladness and
murmur with joy.  Fresh, healthy winds blow over it, laden with the
fragrance of earth's dearest and best treasures.  God has blessed it
with abundance, and has caused its warm bosom to heave with triumph.
Lo! its gardens pass by me one after another; happy homes stand in their
midst; the pride of my race sit happy under the shade of their orange
trees, surrounded by their dependents, whose faces seem kindled with the
quiet rapture which fills them.  Trees and flowers, houses and gardens,
men and women, hills and valleys, the sea and streams,--all of
Zanzibar,--come nearer to the unhappy and forsaken son of great Amer bin
Osman.

"Come nearer, nearer still, to your kinsman Selim, Let me embrace ye
before my destiny is accomplished!

"No! no!  Ah, ye are unkind!  Gaze in pity upon my abject condition!
Look down upon me, ye that are elated with pleasure.  Mark my
surroundings!  This great, silent wilderness of forest, to which there
is no end; it stretches from sunset to sunrise, from sea to sea; it
excludes light and air; it smothers the earth with its limitless length
and breadth.  Through its thick, heavy drapery of leafage--I may not
breathe, neither be warmed, by ever a single sun-ray.

"Hark to the storm of wind sweeping over the tops of the giant trees!
How it expends its might in attempting to open even a slight gap, that
one of the true believers might see a glimpse of heaven before he dies!
But it may not be.  Nature took ages to build this rampart and construct
this impregnable palisade, and the baffled tempest retreats, and leaves
me hopeless and despairing.

"The air is pregnant with deadly vapours; gigantic trees, fallen from
extreme age, lie prone on the ground, infested by myriads upon myriads
of creeping things; withered branches strew the ground thickly, and
their leaves, long since dead, lie damp and sappy, reeking with every
insect abomination.  From afar, like the indistinct and distant sound of
thunder, is borne to my ears, after traversing aisles upon aisles, the
hungry lions' roar, suggestive of what may happen if relief comes not
early to the lonely Arab boy; and my quickened hearing catches strains
of a still fiercer meaning, the voice of the leopard calling to his
mate, mingled with the growls of the hyaena.

"Ah, cruel chance, that my fresh young life should be thus beset with
dangers which menace it.  What sin has my infancy committed that my
youth must be punished so severely?  What wrong have these boy-hands
performed, that their owner merits death?  What guile has ever my
childhood's heart conceived for which my youth must pay the penalty?
What crime has ever my brain meditated, that I must be reft of my life
at so early an age?  None,--none.  I but ever acted as I knew how; not
wantonly, not recklessly, but just as instinct and nature, untutored,
impelled me to.

"I would my father had never felt the power of manhood, or met my
mother.  I would my mother's womb, with its embryo, had withered up;
then had I not been born to encounter such evil days.  From the evil day
Khamis bin Abdullah kindled in my father's breast knowledge of his
comparative poverty I date the birth of my misfortune; from that time
hard and evil days innumerable have I seen; mischance has succeeded
mischance, danger succeeded danger, one suffering has produced another.

"I saw my parent die as became the chief of his tribe.  The friendly
shields, which endeavoured to shelter him from harm, averted not the
death which sought his lion heart; his companions in arms fell thickly
around him in heaps upon heaps of unnumbered dead; while I stood alone,
first to wonder at the strange phase of nature--death, then to mourn for
the great loss that had befallen me, then to suffer torture like that to
those who visit Eblis, and, finally, to wish that I had never seen the
light which animates the earth, or had died upon that fatal field of
battle.  I, the son of great Amer, was made a slave by those hideous
Watuta, who are but monstrous apes, was stripped of my clothing to have
my modest youth shocked by the unbelievers' rude gaze.  When, blushing
at their impertinence, I resented the rough behaviour, they bound and
scourged me, and they laughed and mocked me as the tortured flesh gave
way and hung in gory tatters, and the red blood dyed my limbs crimson.
Probed and pricked by their spears, they drove me to the journey amongst
a herd of other slaves, while the relentless sun streamed its rays upon
my naked and defenceless body, and I thought that all the agony of the
damned was not to be compared to that which I suffered.  Ah, the
suffering that followed!  The long, long days of marching, which seemed
to be interminable, the protracted pains from thirst, the weary, leaden
limbs that refused to be moved at my command, the long, long,
immeasurable road, the poor victims that fell never to rise again, whom,
nevertheless, I envied for their eternal relief from misery and poignant
pain.  Their stolid faces upturned to heaven, blank and unmeaning; the
unwinking eyes, that must have once reflected domestic joys, gaped wide,
but were dim and glazed, and nothing more on earth would ever cause them
to cover that horrible, steady gaze on emptiness and vacancy; the greedy
vulture might peck at them, the kites might satiate themselves on their
entrails, the hyaena might gorge himself on their flesh, yet those once
sensitive eyes would never wink their discontent.  This is death!  It is
real death.  It is the death which threatened me until, rendered
desperate by the keen terrors which filled me one night, I deserted that
ever-moving caravan, to find myself after a time in this strait, and the
terror of death has followed me hither.  Every thought, and moan, and
cry speaks of it.  For ever present is the fearful sight of death; it is
in this stagnant, oppressive air which I breathe; and the tomb which God
has raised above my head--in these lofty columns, bearing far up their
leafy roof--I see.

"Fit tomb for an Arab chief's son.  A sultan of the Arab tribes might
envy me mine.  But where are the mourners?  There should be my kindred
weeping hot tears over Selim's early death.  My mother, with her maids,
should be present to wash my limbs ere shrouding them with snowy shash
[fine bleached domestic, or cotton cloth].  There should be my
playfellows to chant a dirge over my early departure from this life; and
the holy Imam to repeat the prayers for the dead.  There should be my
kinsmen to dig my grave, and women to weep.  But I am alone, to die
without bidding farewell to my friends,--to die without taking with me
to that other world that last enduring look of love from all who
esteemed me, which must ever thrill the souls of those who leave
sympathising friends behind.  Then come and welcome, cruel, cruel Death;
wreak thy will on me; my limbs are already chained to that earth of
which they are a portion; thou hast hedged me around with thy terrors
and affrighted my soul long enough; thou hast advanced and receded, as
though it were child's play; I have alternately felt strong and faint,
felt brave and weak.  I may not balk thee longer!

"Farewell, happy island, with thy purling streams, thy orange-groves,
thou home of my happy childhood, home of my kindred!

"Farewell, thou solemn earth; ay, bend thine head with shame for the
frown with which thou hast regarded thy innocent child!

"Farewell, thou monster Death!  Thou tyrant!  I am conquered; and I--I
must--yield.  I come, father, dear fa-ther!"



CHAPTER SEVEN.

FERODIA'S TRIUMPHAL APPROACH--HIS RECEPTION BY KATALAMBULA--THE KING
PRAISES FERODIA--ABDULLAH IS GIVEN TO KALULU--ABDULLAH MEETS WITH SIMBA
AND MOTO--KALULU'S PLAN OF SEARCH FOR SELIM--A GUN FOUND--SELIM FOUND--
THE SENSELESS FORM OF SELIM CARRIED TO THE VILLAGE--SELIM RECOVERS--
KALULU FRATERNISES WITH SELIM--KALULU'S FRIENDSHIP FOR SELIM.

On the twenty-ninth day after the battle of Kwikuru, Ferodia, the chief
of the Watuta, made his triumphant entrance to Katalambula's village.
Messengers had arrived the night before at the King's house to announce
the approach of the victorious chief; and when next morning, near noon,
a great cloud of dust was perceived on the left bank of the river, then
the women, posted on every advantageous point for a good view, began the
glad lu-lu-lu-ing, and the welcome tones, when heard by the Watuta, were
answered by them with a shout which might have been heard at the great
lake into which the Liemba ran.

Long before Ferodia had emerged from the leafy corn-fields on the left
bank of the river, the vicinity of the great gate of Katalambula's
village was thronged by a multitude of men, women, and children gathered
from the rich plain around, who were the brothers, cousins, nephews,
wives, sisters, and children of the warriors whose return was now so
enthusiastically, nay, frantically, welcomed.  Two thousand voices
sounded the happy "lu-lu-lu;" four thousand hands were clapped together;
four thousand legs, brown and black, and black and brown, danced,
leaped, moved, and wriggled as the emotions of their owners moved them.

And Ferodia was all this time slowly approaching, while the drums, with
tremendous thunderous volume of tone, ushered him into the presence of
the assembled multitudes.  Note him well as he approaches.  What
civilised monarch ever acted the triumph he felt so well as Ferodia?
What civilised king ever possessed that gait?  What actor could have
imitated Ferodia?  Mark his steps, his lion strides, with his legs
encumbered with one hundred rings of fine wire.  Watch how negligently
he lays his arms, heavy with broad ivory wristlets, on the shoulders of
the supple-bodied youngsters, who are jealous of this high honour
conferred on them.  Note the toss of his head with its wealth of braids!
It is the majesty of triumph impersonified.  Happy men would those
actors be who could but imitate that regal air!

The procession is in the following order, as it appears before the gate
and the multitude.  Two hundred warriors in front of Ferodia, file after
file, each head adorned with feathers in huge, dancing, waving tufts,
each man solemnly marching through the gate into the quadrangular square
surrounded by the King's quarters to occupy one side of the square in
line.  Then Ferodia himself, supported by two stalwart young warriors,
one on each side.  Then two hundred warriors, each warrior's face
surrounded by the black, stiff hairs of the zebra's mane, stripped
entire with the hide from the zebra's neck, which gives each warrior a
fierce appearance, much fiercer than the black bearskin caps give to
English hussars.  Then the adult captives in gangs of twenty, bearing
the plunder Ferodia had taken from the Arabs.  Then the boy captives, at
the head of whom was Abdullah, whose white face and body obtained
universal notice.  Then five hundred warriors bringing up the rear, each
head decorated according to the caprice of its owner, with feathers, and
red, white, and blue cloth.

The nine hundred warriors were formed around the square, while the
captives, after depositing their loads near the great tree in the centre
of the square--the cloth bales by themselves, the beads in a separate
pile, the boxes by themselves, the kettles, pots, pans, and
miscellaneous goods by themselves, the powder barrels and bullets by
themselves, and the guns by themselves--formed a circle around the tree.

Katalambula was seated on his mud bench or sofa, which was garnished on
this occasion with over a score of lion and leopard skins.  In his hand
was a short rod, to the end of which was neatly fixed a giraffe's tail,
with which he negligently whisked the flies from his face.

The multitude which we first saw outside the gate had climbed upon the
roofs of the square tembes, and looked down now intent upon the
warriors, the slaves, the plunder, and the king, seated with Kalulu and
the grey-headed elders and councillors of the tribe under the tree.

Ferodia stood with spear in hand alone in the centre of the inner circle
formed by the ring of slaves, and close to the great heaps of spoil he
had taken from the camp of the Arab traders.  His attitude was
unmistakeably grand, and spoke the proud chieftain.  A broad robe of
crimson blanket cloth, which trailed to the ground, was tied in a knot
over his left shoulder, leaving his right shoulder free.  There was a
dead silence; not a word was heard from the warriors or from the
multitudes.  Then the mild voice of Katalambula was heard, saying:

"Ferodia, we have expected thee.  We have heard of thy great success;
how thyself and the Watuta warriors have triumphed over the Arab
traders.  Speak, our ears are open."

Then Ferodia replied: "O King, and ye elders of our tribe!  I was sent
by Katalambula to bear presents to his friends, the Warori chiefs; and,
as I had concluded, I was thinking of returning to Ututa, when Olimali
sent word to my camp that the Arabs--the traders from the sea--had come
to his country with an immense store of cloth and beads.  He said they
were of those who had slain Mostana thy brother, O Katalambula."

"Eyah!  Eyah!" greeted the speaker from the king and his elders, in
which Kalulu joined.

Lifting his voice higher, and adopting a more energetic strain, while
his spear was used to describe gestures, Ferodia continued:

"When I heard the words of Olimali, the King of the Warori, I became as
a hungry lion, even as a roaring lion before his prey.  I said aloud,
`Lo, Malungu (the Sky-spirit, or God) has put the Arabs into my hands,
even the slayers of Mostana, thy brother.  I will arise and avenge
Katalambula and Mostana's son on them.  I will make strong drink from
their bodies, and give their entrails to the fowls of the air, and their
heads I will raise before Olimali's gate to the terror of all other
Arabs who come, and murder, and steal, and make slaves, from near the
sea.'"

"Eyah--eyah!" shouted the multitude.

"When the morning came, the Watuta warriors were in the bush and in the
corn.  They heard the horn of Olimali, they heard the noise of the
Arabs' guns, they heard the shouting and the battle, and, at my signal,
the Watuta warriors rose as one man.  They came with the swiftness of
arrows, like the flash of a bright spear.  We saw the foe in the village
of Olimali, we hemmed them round, we closed the gates, and we began to
slay.  Before our arrows and spears the foe fell in numbers, in heaps,
until those that were left cried aloud for mercy, and fell on their
knees.  Then we made slaves of hundreds of men and boys, and bound them
captives for Katalambula.  We took guns, and powder, and bullets; we
gathered a heap of wealth, of fine cloth and beads.  Of the cloth, and
beads, the guns, and powder, and lead, I have given half to Olimali, the
King of the Warori.  Then each Mtuta warrior received his due, six
cloths to each man; the Watuta chiefs received their due, and Ferodia
took a share.  Fifty slaves died on the road to Ututa, two Arab slaves
died, and one white Arab ran away to die in the forest.  We have two
hundred and fifty men-slaves, and seventeen boy-slaves left, one of whom
is the son of an Arab chief.  The cloth, and the beads, and the other
plunder from the Arabs lie before you in these heaps.  O King, and ye
elders of the tribe, I have spoken."

"Eyah! eyah!" burst out in applausive accents amid clapping of hands and
lu-lu-ing from all the people.

Then Katalambula spoke and said, "O Ferodia, great chief and warrior!
thou art like a right arm to me; thou art a very lion in war.  Who is
stronger than thou in the battle?  The Wabena, the Wasowa, the
Wakonongo, and even the Wajiji, have felt thy spear.  Verily thou hast
spread the name of the Watuta and the renown of Katalambula to the ends
of the earth.

"Let the people hear, and let the elders open their ears.  What king has
a warrior like Ferodia?  He goeth forth with empty hands, but returneth
full.  He goeth from the village poor, and returneth rich.  His warriors
are beggars when they depart from us, but they return with Merikani, and
Kaniki, fine Sohari, and Joho cloth, and their nakedness is hidden under
heaps of finery.  Who is like unto Ferodia?  Were not our maidens in
tears when he and his warriors left us?  Lo, and behold, they are now
laughing, and their hearts dance for joy.  Were not our children hungry
when he departed?  Lo, and behold, they cry no more, for their bellies
are full.  Katalambula--even I--was poor, whereas who is to be compared
to me now in wealth?  Verily thou art great and good, Ferodia, and
Katalambula is pleased with thee.  I have spoken."

Then Katalambula got up and examined the slaves, while Ferodia walked by
his side and commented on such as exhibited extraordinary qualities; and
in going around the circle, the King came to the boy-gang, and when he
came to Abdullah he could barely contain himself for delight and
gratified curiosity.

"Verily," said he, "the Arabs are strange people, and this is one of
that race.  Strange people; all white!"

Katalambula put out his finger to touch the pale skin of Abdullah, and
he instantly drew it back as if the skin had bitten him, laughing at
himself for his timidity.  But, encouraged by Ferodia, he placed his
hand on his shoulders, and marvelled at their softness; and then toyed
with the boy's hair, remarking that it felt like goat's hair.  Then the
boy was obliged to open his mouth while Katalambula peered down his
throat, as if he were in search of some hidden treasure, or as if he
expected something would jump out, since the white boy was such a
wonderful creature.

"But what are you going to do with him?" asked Katalambula.

"It is for the King to command," said Ferodia, in an insinuating tone.

"Well, I will give him to Kalulu; but I thought there were three of
them; or were there four?"

"Only three white," said Ferodia; "one died on the road, a little
fellow, and the tallest ran away, about five days from here."

"Why did he run away?" asked the King.

"Because he was a fool, and the son of a fool," responded Ferodia.  "I
never saw such a stubborn ass; his mouth was full of words, but his back
had no work in it; therefore he preferred to die in the woods, as he
cannot live.  Yet had he spirit enough for two warriors, and he would
have made a fine slave by-and-bye."

"Who art thou speaking of, Ferodia?" asked young Kalulu.

"Now, hold thy tongue, boy, and do not thou interfere with the affairs
of men; but rather see how good Ferodia, thy uncle, is to thee; he has
given thee that white slave for a playmate.  Take him, cut loose his
bonds, and teach him to be a warrior."

"Nay, let Ferodia answer me," persisted Kalulu, "and I will then see
about the white slave.  Who is he that has run away?"

"If thou must know," said Ferodia, looking on Kalulu kindly, "'twas a
young Arab slave, about thy age, who ran away.  He was the son of a
chief, and I half suspect he was driven to run away by Tifum's
unkindness."

"Tifum Byah!" cried Kalulu; "no wonder he ran, Ferodia; Tifum has not a
gentle hand; but I will see thee again, uncle.  I must look after my
white slave now, and teach him to eat first."

And Kalulu, leaving the King and Ferodia to pursue their examinations
into their property, turned to Abdullah with a curious look, and then,
taking his spear, he proceeded to cut the rope around his waist; then,
beckoning to the astonished Arab boy, he walked away towards his own
quarters, followed by him.

When he had Abdullah in his own apartment, all to himself, he again
turned to take a look at him, and silently surveyed him from head to
foot.  Then, walking up to him, he stood with his back to Abdullah's,
and, putting his hand over his head, he seemed desirous of knowing
whether he was taller than him; and having satisfied himself, he turned
round to him again, and, smiling, said to him in Kituta--the language of
Ututa:

"Son of an Arab, canst thou speak Kituta?  No? is that what thou meanest
by shaking thy head?  Canst thou speak Kirori?  No, again?  Kibena,
perhaps?  No?  Canst thou speak Kinyamwezi?  No?  Then what language
dost thou talk?  But, never mind, thy head must think of thy belly now;
I will go fetch thee some food.  Sit down on this bullock-hide until I
return."  And Kalulu vanished, having pointed to the hide on which he
desired Abdullah to seat himself.

[_Ki_ placed before Tuta means, the language of Tuta; _U_, the country
of Tuta; _Wa_, people of Tuta; _M_, a man of Tuta.  This rule is the
same with other African names.]

Presently he returned with a female slave bearing some roast kabobs
(small pieces of meat), rice, honey pombe, or native beer, and a thick
porridge; and pointing to the food and to his mouth, he intimated to him
his desire that he should fall to and eat; which Abdullah, casting a
grateful look on him, was not slow to understand and to avail himself
of.

After watching the Arab boy eat for some moments, he left the hut again,
but soon returned with two men, whose faces immediately attracted
Abdullah's attention and made him cease eating from surprise.  When he
opened his mouth to speak, he ejaculated--

"Simba!  Moto! how came you here?"

"Abdullah! poor boy!"

The two men having spoken, Abdullah sprang to his feet, and, throwing
his arms first around Simba's neck, then around Moto's, he embraced and
kissed them both, and shed floods of tears from joy, while Kalulu,
looking at them all, smiled with fraternal pleasure.

"I am not alone, then, as I thought; I have still some friends left,"
sobbed Abdullah.  "I thought all had left me."

"Nay, weep not, Abdullah," said Bimba.  "Allah is good.  Tell me, son of
Mohammed, where are Selim, and Mussoud, and Isa?"

"Ah!  Simba; evil days have been our fate ever since we came to Urori.
Isa died of the small-pox soon after starting for Ututa; then, some days
afterwards, Mussoud, my dear little brother, fell ill of the same
disease and died; and Selim--"

"Yes, tell us where he is!" said Moto, eagerly.

"The same night that Mussoud was dying, Selim asked me to go with him to
the forest; he said he could not live longer, while Tifum was beating
him all the time; and to see the men and boys die on the road, and left
to be eaten by beasts of prey, sickened his soul.  I could not go while
the fate of my little brother was uncertain, but I gave Selim my
prayers, and after I had fallen asleep he must have gone, for he was not
by my side when I awoke, and his yoke-tree was empty.  I think he took
with him a gun and some spears, for the Watuta who lost those things
made a great noise about their loss."

"Bun away!" said Simba and Moto, looking at one another blankly.  "Selim
gone! but, Abdullah, did he tell you which way he was going after he
would leave you?"

"He said he intended to try to get to Zanzibar, but while I was dropping
to sleep, or whether I dreamed it or not I can't say, I thought I heard
him mutter something about you, and Moto, and Katalambula."

"Ay, that's it, more likely," said Moto.  "He remembered our warning.
The boy, if he is not here now, must be in that forest still.  Did he
say, Abdullah, whether he would go north or south first?"

"Oh, south, because the camp was on the southern side of the road, and
our part of the camp was the most southerly; so it was easy for him to
slip away unperceived."

"And how many days from here, Abdullah, is the spot from whence Selim
disappeared?"

"We came here in six or seven days--I forget the exact number," answered
the boy.

All this time, Kalulu looked from one to the other; and seeing the looks
of anxiety and uneasiness on the faces of his friends, he asked Moto
what the matter was, upon which Moto explained that his young master was
missing--he for whose sake he had sought out himself and Katalambula.

Then he asked what Moto purposed doing, and was answered that he did not
know, but would consult with Simba; upon which Kalulu promised that,
whatever they did, he would assist them.

Simba and Moto, sometimes assisted by Abdullah, consulted together for a
few minutes, at the end of which Moto informed Kalulu that they had
decided that it was their duty to hunt up their young master, who was by
this, perhaps, perishing from hunger, or was captured again by some
other tribe of the Watuta.

Young Kalulu had expected this would have been the answer; for, being
sharp-witted, and knowing how great was their affection for their young
master, he could have divined nothing else.  And he replied that, if his
assistance was wanting, he was ready with his influence to promote
anything necessary for the restoration of Selim to his friends.  "For,"
said he, "since I have seen what the Arabs are face to face, I begin to
like them.  At least, I think I shall like this one and Selim; besides,
my uncle has already given me this one for a slave, and he will give me
the other one, if I can catch him.  But, Moto, they both shall be thine
when thou wilt demand them from my hands."

When this was translated into Kisawabili, the language of Simba, by
Moto, Simba said to Moto:

"Tell the young chief that if he can get fifty men from Katalambula, on
the pretence that he has heard there are elephants in the forests, we
can start at once, and by spreading out through the woods, either find
him ourselves there, or hear some news of him, or rescue him from those
who have already got him."

After expressing his approval of the scheme, Moto conveyed it by
translation to Kalulu, who replied immediately that he would set about
it at once; and while saying it, he left the hut.

In half an hour he returned, and informed Simba and Moto that the men
were outside the gate waiting for them, though it was unusual to start
on a hunting expedition without the ceremony of the magic doctors.
"However," he added, "I have explained that it shall be done at the
village nearest the forest, where we shall arrive to-morrow at noon if
we travel well.  So come on, Moto; I want to do something too, or
Ferodia will be on everybody's tongue, and Kalulu's name will never be
heard; besides, I want to see this young master of thine, and see if he
is as good as you say he is."

While he had been talking, Simba and Moto had snatched up their guns and
declared themselves ready, and Kalulu, after giving orders to have
Abdullah sleep in his hut, and to be well fed and looked after,
accompanied by Simba and Moto, hastily left the hut.

Kalulu was very proud as he showed his friends his warriors, and was
sure that with such people the lost Arab boy would be found.  Then,
putting himself at their head, with his friends next to him, he rapidly
led the way along which Ferodia had arrived from Urori.

As it was noon when they started, they could continue their march until
late at night, which they did; and a couple of hours before dawn next
morning found them _en route_ again.

At noon, as Kalulu had said, they saw the forest darkening the western
horizon ahead; but between them and the forest was a village, whose
corn-fields were then reached, situated about a mile south of the road,
from which Simba supposed it would be best to spread out, and keep a
sharp eye for anything that promised to furnish a clue of him for whom
they were about to search.

They soon came to the village, and when the inhabitants recognised
Katalambula's adopted son, they manifested great delight, and
immediately set about furnishing him and his men with the best they had,
consisting of bananas, and porridge, beans, and rice, and pombe.

The chief of the village was very assiduous to please Kalulu, and sat
down close to him, imparting local news; and, as he began to impart it,
he remembered an incident which had occurred that morning, which was,
that one of his men, searching for wild honey, a couple of hours off in
the forest, had found a gun.

"A gun!" said Moto.

"A gun!" echoed Kalulu.

"Yes, a gun; and the medicine was in it--the medicine powder and
bullet--for when the man who found it was playing with it, boom! it
went, almost killing him with fright."

"Yes, yes, that's very funny; very funny," said Moto, trying to curb his
impatience; "but did your man find nothing else near it?"

"Nothing else, my brother.  What do you mean?  Was not the finding of a
gun strange enough in a forest which, for aught I know, never saw one
before?  Can many more miracles happen to us like this?"

"But, my brother," urged Moto, with anger in his tones, "how could the
gun have come there if some one had not left it?"

"The Mienzi Mungu (Good Spirit) placed it there for me.  It was not many
days ago since my father, the chief, died; and when I had put him in the
ground deep, and covered him with earth, I collected all his property in
a heap, and thanked the Mienzi Mungu, who had been so kind to me, and
prayed to him to make me rich and strong.  The good Mienzi Mungu has
heard my prayers, and has sent this gun, with its strong medicine, from
the skies, for me."

"Chief, be silent," said Kalulu, holding up his hand; "the heir of
Katalambula commands thee.  Knowest thou the spot where thy man found
this wonderful gun?"

"My lord, thy slave is silent when Kalulu speaks.  I know not the place,
but my man must know."

The man was called, and when he was asked if he had searched the
vicinity for further treasures, he replied that he had not, as he had
hurried away with what he had found to his chief.  He was then told to
prepare himself to accompany Kalulu and his men to the spot where he had
found the marvellous treasure.

Within two hours they had arrived, and stood under a tree in a dense
part of the noble forest.  The trees grew around thickly, with many
towering columns, supporting a mass of leafage, impenetrable to glare of
sun or the white light of day.

On the man pointing the exact spot to Kalulu, Moto, and Simba, the
warriors of Katalambula were formed in line, and one half was ordered to
march northward, each distant from his fellow fifty paces, and the other
half was ordered to step out, with their faces to the south, in like
manner.  The men having thus been posted in skirmishing order, were then
ordered to front towards the east and march forward, observing closely
everything strange they might see.

The men had not advanced far--not more than two hundred yards--when one
of them gave a shout, which instantly attracted the attention of all.
He was seen pointing with excited motions at some object lying on the
ground.  Simba uttered a roar of joy, when, bounding upward to catch one
glimpse of the object, he perceived it to be the pale-coloured and
apparently inanimate body of his young master.  Moto, also, labouring
under no less joyful excitement, shot forward with the speed of an
arrow, and Kalulu's light and graceful form was seen cleaving the air as
he sped with nimble feet towards Simba.  The men soon shared in the
excitement, and came running up to know the cause; and, among the first,
was seen the peasant who had found the gun in this same forest, little
dreaming that its owner lay so near.

But the joy of the leaders was soon turned to sorrow.  The giant Simba
stood nerveless and speechless at the head of the body, Kalulu looked on
with deep sympathy on his face, at the side, while Moto threw himself on
his knees with clasped hands, at the feet, keen anguish written in every
line of his face.  The positions of the others, as they came up one by
one to obtain a view of the prostrate form of the boy, indicated sorrow,
mixed with curious awe; but that of the man through whose aid the body
had been discovered was the most remarkable.

When he had approached the curious object which attracted such attention
and elicited such shouts, he stood stock still, as if he had been
suddenly petrified; but seeing that the pale object bore the semblance
of a man, and that it remained motionless, he advanced slowly on tiptoe,
while his face underwent remarkable changes as his emotions moved him.

"What is it?" he asked of the nearest man to him.  "Is that the Mienzi
Mungu who left the gun?"

"No," answered the man, shortly, "this is not the Mienzi Mungu, thou
fool; 'tis but an Arab boy, who has died from hunger," he added,
proudly, and with the compassionate tone of one who pitied such woeful
ignorance.

"An Arab boy!" he uttered.  "What is that?"

"He is one of the white people who live in the middle of the sea," the
warrior answered.

"Well, what makes him so white?  Is his skin like the shell of an egg?
Is he hard or soft to the touch?" he asked again, with a strange
curiosity.

"Art thou afraid of a dead boy?  Go to the body and feel it, fool."

The peasant smiled foolishly as he was thus rebuked; but presently he
was seen to crawl towards the body and timidly put his hand on the boy's
chest to feel it; but he suddenly removed it with a cry.

"He is not dead!  His skin is soft, and I felt it move!"

Moto and Kalulu sprang and knelt down by the boy's side, and a joyful
sparkle was seen in Simba's eyes as he also bent down and placed one
hand within that of the motionless boy, and the other on the chest.
Moto felt the head, to see if there was internal warmth in it, and
Kalulu seemed desirous of knowing the truth by reading it in the eyes of
Simba and Moto with his own.

"He lives! my young master Selim lives!  Allah be praised!" cried Simba
fervently.

"But he will not live long if we don't carry him away to put something
into him," said Moto, anxiously and hurriedly.  "Dost thou see Simba,
how thin he is? he is nothing but skin and bone--and look here, Simba!
Wallahi! what sheitan (bad man, fiend) has done this?  See the bruises
on his shoulders, and--turn him over on his side--there!--look at his
back, Simba!"

"Moto," answered that great and tender-hearted giant, "Tell me, what
could have done this?  Is it a man?  A man?--no!  No man could have
wounded and striped that back so, because Selim--poor innocent Selim!--
could have done nothing to deserve it.  This is the work of a pure
mshensi (savage), and I will tear out that man's heart, so help me
Allah!  But let us bear him quickly but gently to the village--and,
Moto, ask Kalulu to send the man back running to tell the people to have
some very thin ugali (porridge) boiled in goat's milk ready by the time
we reach there."

The order was given by Kalulu immediately, and Moto, laying hold of his
shoulder-cloth, which he had thrown away from him at the first burst of
excitement, began to spread it out on the ground.  Simba aided Moto then
to lift the wasted form of their young master on the cloth, groaning
from sheer sorrow and grief at the thought of what he must have
suffered, and murmuring to himself, "Selim will tell me if he lives, and
if he dies, little Abdullah will tell me, and then, you sheitan, you
mshensi dog!  I will treat you in the same way as you treated Selim--
sure, sure."

When the senseless form of Selim had been placed on the cloth, Simba and
Moto took hold of each corner of it at the head while two other men were
ordered by Kalulu to take hold of each corner at the feet, and in this
manner they proceeded on their return to the village.

When the party arrived at the village, they found the inhabitants loudly
and excitedly discussing the strange events that had occurred, and the
report which Kalulu's messenger, the peasant, had made concerning the
discovery of a white boy, nearly dead from hunger, in the forest.  The
report that a white boy had been found created an unprecedented surprise
and excitement; no stranger news could have been given in a village
where white people had never been heard of or dreamed of before; the
wildest imagination could not have produced any shape or human figure so
wonderful.  A boy all white! white skin--as white as the yolk of an egg!
They might have imagined black men with horns, or black men with two
heads, six arms, and as many legs as a centipede, or any other
monstrosity; but a white boy, with skin so soft and smooth that the
slightest pressure with the finger produced an impression on it,--this
was wonderful and excelled all tradition.  No wonder, then, that when
the party which bore the white boy was seen advancing, the people made a
general rush to see the curiosity.

But Kalulu, warned by Moto, had thought of this; and his warriors had
been so skilfully arranged that the excited people found themselves
balked; and Moto, Simba, and the other two men bore their burden into an
empty hut which the village chief, at Kalulu's command, showed them.

The ugali, or porridge, which had been prepared, was then taken by
Simba, and while Moto gently forced the mouth of the boy open, Simba,
with a small wooden paddle, which he had soon scooped out into a shallow
spoon, began to drop some of the nourishing gruel into the open month.
The effect was almost instantaneous, although to the anxious Simba it
appeared a long time; the open lips closed and a slight movement of the
throat was observed.  Again the lips opened, and the watchful Simba
poured a few more drops of the warm and grateful restorative, and soon,
as fast as he poured, the thirsty mouth received it, with other
agreeable effects which the friends were quick to perceive.  Kalulu, who
knelt at Selim's head, pointed Simba to the minute beads of perspiration
which had formed on the previously dry forehead, and Moto, placing his
hand on the chest, gladdened the ears of all with the news that the
heart throbbed quicker and stronger.

Presently, Selim heaved a sigh, and the eyelids, hitherto closed,
opened, revealing the lustrous orbs which give light and the sense of
seeing to the body.

"Ay, what eyes! so large and beautiful!" ejaculated Kalulu, with wonder.

"Hush-sh," said Simba, warningly, as he bent his ears to the lips which
now were whispering words which brought the tears to Simba's eyes.

  "And sons shall mourn for Arab fathers slain,
  And Arab wives shall shed their tears like rain."

"Poor boy!" said Simba; "he repeats the words his mother said before son
and mother parted."  And then in a louder tone he said, "Selim, young
master, dost thou know me?"

The head turned round, and the eyes of his young master rested on him
full, with the light of intelligence in them.

"Ah, Simba!  Is it thou?" asked Selim, in a faint but glad voice.

"Yes, I--thy slave Simba.  Praised be Allah for his goodness! my master
knows his slave."

"Where am I?"  Selim then asked.  "I have had such a fearful dream.  I
thought I was dying from thirst and hunger.  But this is not that awful
forest I saw.  I am in a house, and Simba is at my side.  How is this,
Simba?"

"Dost thou not know Moto, master?" asked Moto, who had risen to his
feet.

"And thou too, Moto, here?  Then I am happy.  I am not alone, as I
dreamed I was."

"No, master, thou art not alone; but take some more of this," said
Simba, as he industriously stirred the porridge.  "It is good for thee,
and thou wilt be quite strong by-and-bye."

And Selim obediently opened his mouth and permitted himself to be fed
without demur, though his eyes worked and looked about to aid his mind
in resolving the remarkable change of circumstances which had taken
place since he fell down in the forest from fatigue, hunger, and thirst.

When the gruel was exhausted and he had eaten his fill, Selim found his
strength much recovered, his mind firmer, and he asked Simba to tell him
how this change had come about.  Simba related briefly all the facts
already known to us, to Selim's infinite surprise and joy; and Selim, in
answer to a question from Simba, related what occurred to him, from the
time Simba and Moto disappeared at Ewikuru to the time he laid down as
he thought to die, Kalulu came round now, and kneeled in front of Selim,
and Simba introduced him as the adopted son of the King, who had been so
good to Moto, and as the young chief through whose aid they had been
enabled to discover him.

Selim lifted his hand, and grasped Kalulu's fervently, and asked Moto to
tell him how grateful he felt to him for his kindness, which was no
sooner done than Kalulu said:

"Let the son of the Arab chief eat, and rest, and get strong.  Let
neither hunger nor thirst approach him.  Kalulu is his brother.  With
Kalulu my white Arab brother may tread the forest glades in safety; for
the forest is kind to Kalulu; the trees nod their tall heads to him as a
friend, the birds make music for him, and the honey-bird finds sweet
treasures for him.  The forest is fall of beauty and richness, and
Kalulu's heart is glad when he can roam through it alone.  Neither the
lion nor the leopard harm him, and the wild boar starts in fear when
Kalulu is near him.  Get well, my brother, get strong, and fear harm no
more."

To which Selim answered, while grateful tears filled his eyes:

"The voice of Kalulu sounds in my ears as the living waters of a
fountain in the ears of a thirsty man.  My soul responds to his kind
words as the closed petals of the lotus to the warm light of day.  Fear
and distrust fly from me as the gloom of night and early mist before the
sunshine.  When the heart is tranquil and sadness does not disturb the
mind, a man sees joy in all things; even the sombre forest is reft of
its terrors, and becomes beautiful, the ground is found to be clothed
with sweet grass and pretty flowers.  The waving grain and tasselled
corn does not bend more easily to the breeze than a man's heart does to
his emotions; the dark past will be forgotten by me, and with Kalulu as
a brother I shall find beauty in all things, music in birds, pleasure in
the fields, joy in sunshine and night."

Kalulu replied: "Thy voice, my white brother, makes Kalulu glad.  His
heart grows under its pleasant sounds, and is moved like the foliage by
the soughing breezes.  I will teach thee what the Sky-spirit has taught
the children of the Watuta, and thou shalt teach me what the Sky-spirit
has taught the pale-faced children of the Arabs.  Thou shalt show me
what the great sea is like whose waters are salt, and to what it is like
when the angry pepo (storm) blows on it; and I will show thee the brown
Liemba, where, among the thick matete brake, hides the long-nosed mamba
(crocodile), and where the hippopotamus loves to bathe his great body.
I will show thee the pretty islands, silent as the night in their
loneliness, which are guarded by scores of crocodiles, for me to roam
when I like.  I will teach thee how to hunt the swift antelope and the
leaping springbok; how to pierce the thick hide of the pharo
(rhinoceros); how to laugh at the fierce bellow of the wild buffalo; and
how a Mtuta boy meets the lion.  Eat and get strong.  But tell me, my
brother, how comes thy back so scarred and wealed?"

"Kalulu, my brother, thy words have made me strong already.  Heed not my
bruised body; thy words are a medicine for it.  The music of thy voice
has healed my sores.  I feel them no more."

"Nay, but tell me the name of the man who made them.  Was it Ferodia?"

"No.  Ferodia has not struck me; it was the man they call Tifum Byah."

"Tifum Byah! the cruel dog; but never mind, I will stripe his back for
him."

"Nay, please trouble him not, for my sake, Kalulu; the dark days are
over."

"Well, we shall see," said Kalulu.  "But now we will leave thee to sleep
and rest.  We shall stay two days here, when thou wilt be strong enough
to be carried before Katalambula.  I marvel at the friendship I bear
thee; but Moto was good to me, and when he told me thou wert his master,
I loved thee then.  Now I love thee for thyself.  The Watuta know how to
love and hate, how to like and dislike."

Then, turning to his warriors, who had crowded into the hut, Kalulu
said, "Come, let us leave Moto and Simba with the pale-faced boy; they
will watch him."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

CEREMONY OF BROTHERHOOD--CEREMONY OF BLOOD-DRINKING--SELIM BROUGHT INTO
FERODIA'S PRESENCE--SIMBA TO THE RESCUE--THE WARNING TO KALULU--KALULU
SPEAKS FOR SELIM--WHERE IS PARADISE?--SELIM AND ABDULLAH ARE CLOTHED--
DOWN THE LIEMBRA--THE HIPPOPOTAMUS--OVERBOARD--FIGHTING THE CROCODILE--
HOW KALULU FOUGHT THE CROCODILE--SECURING THE RIVER-HORSE.

On the third day after his discovery in the forest by his friends Simba,
Moto, and young Kalulu, Selim was sufficiently strong to begin his
journey to the village of Katalambula.  Had Kalulu not assured him of
his friendship, and that he would be a brother to him, it is doubtful
that Selim would have looked upon the idea of meeting Ferodia and his
obsequious servant Tifum Byah--to whose tyranny he owed so much misery--
again with pleasure.  But it was agreed between Kalulu and Selim that
the ceremony of brotherhood, of which he had heard much before, should
take place the evening before they arrived at Katalambula's village.

The party travelled by easy stages, and on the fifth day of the journey,
the day set apart for the ceremony of brotherhood, they found themselves
close to the Liemba stream, at a village called Kisari, distant but
eight miles from the capital of Katalambula.

Here the author may remark, for the benefit of the younger readers, that
a close brotherhood among men or boys, unrelated by blood, birth, or
marriage, is in no way singular.  I need but mention David and Jonathan,
Achilles and Patroclus, Damon and Pythias, as examples among men; and
what boy of any nation, in any public school, has not some friend who is
as dear to him as a born brother?  It arises from a similarity of
dispositions generally, from the desire to relieve ourselves from little
anxieties, and to have some one in whom we have thorough confidence.
There were two things singular about this ceremony of brotherhood about,
to be enacted between Selim and Kalulu.  First, was the ceremony of
blood-drinking connected with it; and, secondly, was the fact that a
Moslem boy--a true believer--was about to become a brother with a Pagan
boy--an unbeliever--and to drink his blood.  For it is expressly
prohibited by the Kuran that blood shall be drunk by the true believer;
next, it is expressly prohibited that a true believer shall make any
such close friendship with an infidel.  But it may be argued for poor
Selim that he was yet but a young boy; that he was driven by necessity
to this as the best method of assuring his freedom and safety from
recapture, and this the Kuran, whose laws are not cruel, permits when
there is necessity; and it might be said that Selim was, perhaps, not
aware of the Kuran's prohibition in this small matter; otherwise, I
doubt that a boy so generally pious would have erred against the law of
the Prophet consciously.

On Kalulu's side, nothing could be said against the ceremony.  It was a
common custom with his tribe, when any of them met anybody they liked
better than another, to go through the ceremony.  Sometimes the chiefs
did it with neighbouring chiefs, to strengthen their alliance from
motives of policy, for the same reason that European monarchs contract--
or rather did, for it has lost long ago its former significance--
advantageous alliances among themselves for their sons and daughters.
Kalulu wished the ceremony to proceed, because he had a strong liking
for Selim, born of gratitude to Moto; because Selim was of his own age;
because he had pleasant ways with him, and friendship having grown out
of the accidental circumstances under which they met, he desired to
assure himself, with the ardour of a boy, that real friendship existed
between them.  Once his brother by this ceremony, no one of his tribe
could injure Selim; and Ferodia and Tifum Byah might storm and fret in
vain, for the ceremony of brotherhood with Kalulu could not be
disregarded.  We shall see, however, what came of it.

At sunset, Kalulu was asked to seat himself side by side with Selim on
the ground, which he did, taking hold of Selim's right hand, each with
his profile half turned to the other.  Simba was the master of the
ceremonies on this occasion, who held a knife with all the solemnity of
one who was about to offer a sacrifice to some horrid deity who
delighted in the blood of youths.  Moto stood by as a supernumerary, and
to interpret the words of Simba for Kalulu.  The people of Kisari had
also come to witness the ceremony.

Simba advanced as the sun was setting, knife in hand, while the two boys
retained each other's right hands, and said to Kalulu:

"Art thou willing to be a brother to Selim, to be more than a friend to
him, to share what thou hast with him, to defend him against all enemies
to the best of thy power, and to stand by him until death?"

Kalulu answered, "I am."

"With what wilt thou seal thy word?"

"With the blood of my right arm."

"And what wilt thou give him as a sign?"

"I will give him a sheep."

"Art thou willing further to drink his blood, that his blood may pass
unto thee, that the bond of eternal brotherhood may be made strong and
sure?"

"I am."

Then turning to Selim, Simba asked:

"Art thou, Selim, willing to accept Kalulu as a brother, to be more than
a friend to him, to share what thou hast with him, to defend him to the
utmost of thy power against all enemies, and to stand by him to the
death?"

Selim answered, "I am."

"With what wilt thou seal thy promise?"

"With the blood of my right arm."

"And what wilt thou give him as a sign?"

"I will give him my gun."

"Art thou willing, further, to drink his blood, that his blood may pass
unto thee, that the bond of eternal brotherhood may be made strong and
euro?"

"I am."

"Then let it be done!"  Simba said; and with that he made a small
incision in the arm of each, and as the blood began to flow, he shouted,
"Drink!" and immediately the youths seized each other's right arms, and
left their right hands free, and putting their lips to the wounds,
sucked a small quantity and swallowed it, and the ceremony was concluded
by a fraternal embrace.  During the exchange of presents which followed,
men, women, and children shouted and clapped their hands; and the
youngest of them, in the exuberance of their childish hearts, kicked up
their heels and danced, as they do upon most great occasions in Africa.

The next morning, a little before noon, the party arrived at the
capital.  Selim's arrival caused a great sensation; but Kalulu
immediately took him and his two friends, Simba and Moto, into his own
hut, where Selim, to his great joy, met Abdullah, who was quite
recovered from the severe punishment he had received and the fatigues he
had undergone.  The meeting between the two Arab boys was very
affecting, as they could understand each other's feelings and interpret
them faithfully one to the other.

After a short time, Simba and Moto left the two boys to themselves and
retired to their own hut, while Kalulu, after seeing Selim attended to
and supplied with food, started for the King's house to acquaint the
King with the events which we have just detailed.

It was not long after the two Arab boys were left alone that a rustling
of many feet was heard at the door, not noisy, but hurried, and somewhat
alarming; and immediately there stood before the astonished boys the
form and malevolent face of Tifum Byah, his former tyrant, accompanied
by other warriors, armed with spears and knob-sticks.

"Oh, ho! hee, hee!" shouted Tifum, with a wicked leer on his face.
"This is my runaway slave.  Ha, ha! thou art caught like a sneaking
jackal in a trap.  Come, my pale-faced slave, you must follow me;" and
he advanced and laid a rough hand upon his shoulder.

"Why with you?" asked Selim.

"Come, no words.  Ferodia, the chief, calls."

"But I am now Kalulu's brother," said Selim, attempting to release
himself from his grasp, "and I am no longer a slave."

"You the brother of Kalulu!  Since when came you to be the brother of
Kalulu, you son of an ass?"

"Since yesterday; and if you do not let me go, Kalulu will punish you
for entering his hut."

"We'll see about that.  Warriors, bear him to Ferodia!" said Tifum,
turning to his companions.

And Selim was borne away, despite his remonstrances, to Ferodia's
presence, who happened to be seated under the tree in the middle of the
square.

"Here is the runaway," said Tifum, laying a heavy hand on Selim's
shoulder, to Ferodia.

"Ha! pale-faced dog!" shouted Ferodia, angrily.  "What made you run
away?  Did you think to better yourself by doing so?  Speak."

"I am not a dog!" retorted Selim in a passion; for he was getting
desperate at the prospect of another lease of such cruel bondage as he
had experienced.  "I am not a dog, but you are a dog."

"Eyah, eyah! hear him!  A slave insults Ferodia the chief!" cried the
obsequious Tifum.  "Fool, do you know what you say?"

"Silence, pariah!" thundered Selim, more passionately.  "I defy you!--I
spit on you!  You are dirt.  Do your worst, great chief--the Arab boy
will not bend to you!"

As the boy uttered these words, showing more spirit, and such anger, and
bitter contempt as none of the Watutu ever had witnessed before, both
Ferodia and Tifum were struck speechless for a moment; but Ferodia broke
the silence at last with fiery accents, saying:

"Tifum, dost thou hear me?  Lay that stubborn ass down on his face and
cut his back for me with thy whip.  Beat, beat, and spare not."

But Selim waited to hear no more.  Ferodia had but begun his cruel order
when the latent Bedouin spirit of resistance electrified him.  His arm
felt surcharged with the impulse to strike, and his hand, weighted with
hate, was shot full in the face of Tifum, who reeled as if he had been
struck with a knob-stick.  Then with a light bound he sprang from the
circle, sending a mocking laugh into Ferodia's ears as he flew towards
the King's house, which had been pointed out to him on his first
arrival, shouting "Kalulu!  Simba, to me!  To me, Simba!  Kalulu!"

He had reached the threshold of the King's house when he felt an arm on
his shoulder.  He turned around; it was Tifum!  Rage had given the man a
quickened sense and speed to his feet, even superior to the fear which
hurried the feet of Selim away.  The strong hand crushed the weakened
frame of the youth to the ground for the execution of the cruel sentence
of Ferodia, and his brain was fast whirling with the terror which
possessed him, when he heard a shout--a roar of rage--behind him, and at
the same time the force with which he was being compelled to the ground
relaxed.  Simba was seen bearing down upon the party with irresistible
power.  He saw for an instant how the gigantic form of his friend and
protector dilated, as he had seen it in the battle of Kwikuru; he saw
the powerful muscular arms, with their wealth of sinew and muscle, and
the eyes glowing with the ferocity of a beast of prey: only an instant,
for Simba was before Tifum, face to face with the monster who had
striped the son of Amer, and there was no time to think before he saw
Tifum's body in the air, nor time to utter the thought of pardon which
he wished to say, before he saw the man dashed with the force of a
cannon ball against the body of warriors who had hurried up to lend
assistance to Tifum--laying half a dozen of them prostrate on the
ground.

Ferodia had seen the giant form of Simba hurrying to the rescue of the
white slave, and comprehending at a glance that something would happen,
he snatched his spear and started after him.  But he had never imagined
that such a thing as he saw could have been done by living man; and the
wonder of it all paralysed his arm, which tingled but a moment before to
send his spear through the man's body.  While Ferodia thus stood, lost
in wonder at such human power, three new-comers had appeared on the
scene--Moto, who had hurried after Ferodia, and stood behind him,
seemingly careless and unconcerned; Kalulu and Katalambula, the King,
who appeared on the threshold, the former of whom had dragged Selim
behind him.

Katalambula, though old and on the verge of infirmity, could demean
himself royally enough upon occasions; and this was one of them
evidently; for he advanced and stood before Simba and Ferodia, spear in
hand, with a bearing seldom witnessed.

"What means this, Ferodia?" he asked in a cool, quiet tone.

"It means, O King, that I sent Tifum to catch that runaway slave who
deserted me in the great forest; that the slave ran towards thy house,
and Tifum ran after him, only to meet with this man, who caught up Tifum
as if he had been a piece of wood, and sent him flying against those
warriors of mine, who are now picking themselves up."

"Indeed!  Who art thou?  Oh, I remember, thou art the friend of the
stranger who saved Kalulu in Urori!  Thou art very strong."

Then turning toward the group which had been prostrated, he asked if any
of them had been hurt.  One replied that he felt a pain in the chest,
another that he could not breathe; one felt his head swim, another a
pain in the abdomen; one felt a lump in his throat, another replied that
he had a sore back; while Tifum declared he felt bruised all over, and
all looked at Simba with terror.

Ferodia now advanced, and made as if he would lay a hand on Selim; but
Kalulu interposed his slight form with a drawn bow and fixed arrow in
his hand, and a dangerous glitter in his eyes.

"Keep away, Ferodia; or, by the grave of Mostana my father, I will send
this arrow through thy body."

"What ails thee, boy?  Is not one white slave enough for thee, that thou
wouldst deprive me of the other?  I made him captive with my bow and
spear at Olimali's village.  Stand aside."

"Go away, I tell thee!  This `slave' of thine is now my brother.  The
blood ceremony has been made.  Who injures him injures me; and I am
Kalulu, adopted son of Katalambula."

"Well, if he is thy brother, keep him; but give me the other white slave
in his place," replied Ferodia.

"Thou hast given him to my father.  My father has given him to me.  I am
too poor in white slaves to be able to give thee any.  I have but one
slave, for the other is my brother."

"Katalambula," said Ferodia, "this is injustice.  White slaves are not
caught every day.  I must have one of them."

"We may not disregard the laws of brotherhood, Ferodia," said the King,
mildly.  "When Kalulu made the white boy his brother he made him a
Mtuta, and all the Watuta are free men.  Thou gavest me the other, and I
gave him to Kalulu.  It is not our custom to return gifts, thou knowest,
Ferodia.  But take thou three Wabena men at my hand instead, and be
friends with Kalulu."

"No, no, no!" said Ferodia, in a burst of anger.  "Thou art unjust,
Katalambula, to one who fought for thee with such success, and brought
thee so much wealth.  I depart at once; and thou," said he warningly to
Kalulu, "do thou beware of me; eagle's wings have been clipped ere now,
and young lions tamed.  Ferodia is king over his own tribe."

"Ferodia," said Kalulu with a sneer, "I fear thee not.  I know thee for
a bad man; and were it not for my father thou shouldst not leave this
village, for I should garnish the gate with thy skull."

"Peace, boy!" cried Katalambula, "and do not make bad worse with thy
saucy tongue.  And thou, Ferodia, heed him not; remember, he is but a
young boy.  But it is thou who art unjust, not I.  Hast thou not
received a fourth of all thou didst bring me?  Hast thou forgotten the
slaves, the cloth, the powder, and guns I gave thee?  Whose were the
warriors with whom the battle was won at Kwikuru?  Who sent thee there
but I?  Go home if thou must, and peace be with thee."

Ferodia left the party, but not before he had again menaced Kalulu,
which menace that young chief returned with interest.  Within an hour he
had departed from the village with his warriors, slaves, and property,
breathing revenge and hatred, fuming and storming at the slaves, and
sarcastically bitter to the bruised and discomfited Tifum Byah.

Katalambula was angry also with Kalulu; but the latter, though forward
enough when Ferodia, of whom he was intensely jealous, was concerned,
knew the ways of the old man well; and, unmindful of his frowns, he went
up and embraced him, and accompanied him towards his house.

"Oh, my uncle, and father!" cried Kalulu, "why dost thou not say a kind
word to my white brother?  Is he not a handsome brother?  Look at his
eyes; they are like the young kalulu when it looks at the hunter in
fear.  Speak to him, ah, do.  Think of that horrid Tifum Byah beating
him!  I am so sorry I did not drive an arrow through him.  He is a
wicked man, verily, and is properly named Byah.  He would cut my head
off readily if Ferodia commanded him."

"And thou art the new brother of my boy Kalulu, art thou, pale-faced
boy?" asked Katalambula, stopping in front of Selim.

"Kalulu has been very good to me," said Selim, looking up gratefully
towards that youth.  "He has been pleased to call me his brother."

"Yes," said Katalambula.  "Kalulu is a good boy--a good boy--he loves
the old King, too.  I believe he has a kind heart for those he loves,
but he is hot, hot as fire, when anybody crosses him.  Take care he does
not kill and eat you," he added, smiling, and passing on towards his
house.

"But, father," said Kalulu in a whisper, "thou seest he is naked, except
that rag.  He is the son of an Arab chief, and is not accustomed to our
ways.  Thou art rich in cloth.  Canst thou not give him something to
cover his nakedness?"

"What need he cover his nakedness, boy?  He looks fair and clean enough
without anything.  He is not a girl.  I am sure if I had a white skin I
would rather be naked to show it," chuckled the old man, looking at
Selim.

"But, father, he has told me himself that he feels ashamed of being
without cloth.  His people never go out unless they are covered from
head to foot.  It is against their custom, and there is a book written
by the Sky-spirit, which tells them not to be without clothes."

"Well, well, do as thou wilt.  Give him four doti (sixteen yards), and
let him cover himself from head to foot if he wants to, though I think
it all folly, all nonsense."

"Thou art good, very good, father," cried the delighted Kalulu, leaping
about the old man.

"Ah, yes, I know I am good," replied Katalambula, "especially when I let
thee have thy own way.  There, go now.  I am sleepy and tired."

Kalulu left the old man, and, proceeding to the store-room, extracted
the four doti he was permitted to take; one of blue cotton, one of
white, one coloured barsati, and one fine sohari, which he rolled into a
bundle, and covered with a goatskin, and conveyed to his hut, where he
found Simba, Moto, Abdullah, and Selim.

When he had seated himself, he asked Selim:

"What book is that thou wert talking of to me yesterday?"

"It is the Kuran," replied Selim, "written by a holy man, sent by the
Sky-spirit to tell men how to conduct themselves on earth, so they may
enter the good place called Paradise."

"What is the Sky-spirit like?"

"No man, since that great man, has seen him; he is a spirit, and cannot
be seen," replied Selim.

"Why do the pale-faces obey a thing that cannot be seen?"

"Because the holy man, Mohammed, who wrote his words down, has given us
all we want to know.  The holy man saw him, and wrote his words
faithfully down."

"Is Mommed alive now?" asked Kalulu.

"Oh no!  He has been dead ever so long, many, many years.  So many as
one hundred sultans of Ututa have lived and died since Mohammed--not
Mommed--died," answered Selim.

"Where is this Paradise to which the good men go?  I am good.  Shall I
go to Paradise?" asked Kalulu, with a smile.

"Paradise is away, up, far, far above the clouds.  No man is permitted
to go there except he is a true believer, who believes in God, Mohammed,
and the Kuran."

"And where shall I go when I die?"

"If thou diest without believing, thou shalt go to the place which is
reserved for such as were ignorant, and were not taught the true word.
It is far from Paradise."

"Hum! it is not as good as Paradise, then?" asked Kalulu.  "No."

"The Sky-spirit is wicked," said Kalulu.  "He sends a holy man called
Mommed to tell good words to the white peoples, and prepares a nice
place for them.  For it is easy to believe, when people are taught what
to believe.  But the black peoples, they see no holy man.  Nobody comes
to tell them anything; but because they are ignorant they are sent to a
bad place.  Bah! the Sky-spirit is very wicked; he is unjust; I don't
want to see him, because I shall not die; I won't die."

Selim had here a fine chance to deliver a sermon, and make a proselyte,
but he was too young to take advantage of the opportunity; besides, he
did not want to make his new brother angry or more rebellious than sheer
ignorance made him already.

"But, Selim, tell me; why do thy people wear clothes?  Why do you not go
about without clothes, as we do?"

"Because it is wrong; it is not decent.  The good book says `Thou shalt
restrain thine eyes, and do no immodest action.'  It is immodest to
expose the person.  Beasts are clothed with fur and hair, fowls with
feathers; men cover themselves with clothes.  Is man so poor that when
he sees all things clothed--the rocks with earth, the earth with trees,
the trees with foliage, the beasts of the forest with hair and fur, the
birds with feathers, the fish with scales, that he himself who owns all
these things shall have nothing?"

"Well, Selim, thou shall; not be immodest any more while thou art with
me.  I have brought thee and Abdullah cloth.  Am I not good now, and
shall I not go to Paradise?"

"Thou shalt have all things, Kalulu, when thou wilt become a true
believer," answered Selim, clapping his hands with joy and gratitude at
Kalulu's delicate kindness.  "What dost thou say, Simba? and thou, Moto?
Abdullah?  We shall be sons of Arabs, and true believers now, eh?"

"I shall be so proud of these clothes, I will not know myself," said
Abdullah, as he folded around his body a brand new shukkah (two yards)
with the skill of one who knew the art of wearing shukkahs.  Another
shukkah was thrown over his shoulders, while a piece of snowy cloth, a
foot wide and a yard long, was folded around his head, and he stood up
to be admired, his pleased and sparkling black eyes mutely inviting his
friends to express their pleasure at the transformation.

"Why, Abdullah!" exclaimed Simba.  "Wallahi! but thou lookest better in
the negro costume of Zanzibar than thou didst in the braided gold jacket
and embroidered shirt of Sheikh Mohammed's son; and thou too, Selim.  I
think I see my young master once more himself.  Fine sohari and fine
barsati in Ututa!  Who would believe it?"

"Ay," said Moto, "my young master and Abdullah, having covered
themselves, will forget their misery and vexation, and grow fat and
happy.  After this I shall always look out for young chiefs in danger,
to help them, hoping they will all turn out to be as good as Kalulu has
been."

"Now that we are all so happy and good, I propose to my new brother
Selim and my white slave Abdullah, who is now no more a slave than I am,
that we take a canoe to-morrow, and go down the Liemba to spear
hippopotamus and crocodiles; for you must see the Watuta at home in
their sports, and we must, by-and-bye, go to the great forest several
days south of where thou wert found, Selim, to have a grand elephant
hunt.  What do ye say, Selim--Abdullah?"

"I shall be delighted," answered Selim.

"And I too," responded Abdullah.

"Then it is settled; eh, Simba and Moto?"

"Yes," those faithfuls replied.

At dawn, the time prescribed, the party set out for the river, two
warriors accompanying them, bearing the paddles for the canoe.  Simba
and Moto carried their guns, Kalulu carried the one given him by Selim
at the brotherhood ceremony, besides his spear, while Selim and Abdullah
carried guns which Kalulu had procured them from the King's store-room,
with the King's permission.

Arriving at the river, the party found a large number of idlers there
already, who had collected to see their young chief and his white
slaves, as Selim and Abdullah were called, set off.  Some of them
wondered that Kalulu should so soon take his slaves away on a pleasure
excursion, but they said nothing, the majority of them thinking that he
took them with him as gun-bearers.  Several of the Watuta offered to
accompany Kalulu in his canoe, but he waived them off peremptorily,
saying he had enough with him.

Soon after Kalulu had taken his seat in the stern with Selim and
Abdullah, Simba, Moto, and the two warriors, taking each a paddle, shot
the canoe into mid-river; then with dexterous strokes they pointed her
head down stream, to the music of a boatman's song.  Each man
industriously plied his paddle, and Katalambula's village receded from
view.

This mode of journeying the two Arab boys, having nothing to do but to
sit down and enjoy the scenery, thought much preferable to the continual
march of the caravan; and the contrast was certainly great to that
bitter experience they had endured on the journey from Kwikuru in Urori
to Katalambula with the heavy-handed and callous-souled Tifum.  They
looked on with delight at the brown river and the tiny billows of brown
foam which the stout canoe made with her broad bow; at the dense sedge
and brake of cane which lined the river's banks, wherein, now and then,
was heard a heavy splash, as the drowsy crocodile, alarmed by the
approaching crew, leaped into his liquid home; at the great tall trees
which now and then were passed, out of which the canoes of the Watuta
are made; at the enormous sycamore, with its vast globe of branch and
leaf, affording grateful shade to beast and bird; at the brown cones,
the habitations of men, encircled by their strong palisades; at the
grain-fields, which shimmered and waved gaily before the tepid southern
wind; and at lengthy, straight, far-reaching vistas of river and wooded
banks which were revealed to them as they glided down the Liemba.

"Happy hour!" thought Selim.  "Would it might last ever, or at least
until I reached my own home and mother at Zanzibar!"

"Hail, joyous day!" thought Abdullah.  "Give joy to all men, as I have
joy.  Be still joyous, to-morrow and the day after, until mine eyes
shall once more rest on the blue wares of the Indian Sea."

The two boys looked into each other's eyes; the look was interpreted
aright by each, and tears crept into the corners of their eyes, and
rolled down their faces in still drops--still as the joy which caused
them.

About two hours before noon the canoe touched an island; and,
disembarking, the party proceeded to select a nice place to rest for an
hour, and to refresh themselves with the lunch, consisting of dried
meat, smoked fish, and, a potful of cold porridge they had brought with
them.

Just as the hour had transpired, a hoarse, deep bellow woe heard close
by, which caused the entire party to start to their feet and glide to
the edge of the island, whence they saw a herd of hippopotami quietly
enjoying the cool deep waters near a place where the river began a sharp
curve at the other end of the island.

"Good!" cried Kalulu; "one--three--fire hippopotami!  Now for sport.  My
white brother, canst thou swim?" he asked Selim.

"Yes; why?"

"Because, if thou cannot, 'twere better that thou shouldst stay here.
Can Abdullah swim?"

"Very well," replied Abdullah for himself.

"Then come on to the canoe at once.  But stop; ye both had better doff
your shoulder-cloths, and roll the lower clothe far up the hip; ye may
have to swim, for a hippopotamus sometimes charges on the canoe, or
kicks it viciously, and then down ye go to the bottom.  If it should
happen this time, dive down to the bottom of the river at once, and make
off under the water towards the island.  The hippopotamus is very apt to
cut a man in two if he catches him.  The animals are now coming up the
river; we will wait for them, and when they have gone above us a little
way we can sally out from our hiding-place, and give it to them.  Do ye
understand?"

"Perfectly," both answered; while Simba and Moto, rolling their cloths
tight around their hips and loins, nodded their approval of what Kalulu
had said.

Having done what the sage young chief had advised, Selim and Abdullah
accompanied _him_ to the canoe; Simba and Moto took their paddles in
their hands, while the two warriors, who were famous for their
harpooning, prepared the instrument which they intended to drive into
the first animal nearest to them.

This instrument was similar in shape to the harpoons which whalers use
for destroying the whales, except that it was not half as neat or sharp.
It had a long, heavy staff, and had once been used to pound corn into
flour by some woman, as was evident by its close grain and polish,
showing that it was hard and heavy, and had been of frequent use.  To
its pointed end was a broad, heavy, and barbed spear, well sharpened and
polished, around the handle of which was fastened the end of a long
rope, of native manufacture, made of the bark of the baobab tree.

While the harpooneers were quietly preparing themselves, Kalulu pointed
the two Arab boys through a thin edge of cane which hid the boat from
the approaching animals, as they came up slowly and unsuspectingly
abreast of the place where they lay.

What magnificent beasts they were!  What splendid and powerful necks
they had!  The best prize-bull ever fattened on English grass might have
been ashamed of his breadth of neck had such as these been exhibited
side by side with him.  Unaware of the danger that lay in wait for them,
they came up to breathe quickly and boldly, and by so doing exposed
nearly all their heads and necks.  On the backs of their powerful necks
the colour was that of a bright reddish yellow, which also tinged their
heads over the eyes and the ears, and broad patches of this colour were
also seen on the cheeks.  In appearance the head bore a striking
similarity to the head of a large and powerful horse; especially did the
bold and prominent eyes, the short pointed ears, and noble curve of neck
aid the comparison; but at the nose it was more like that of an ox.

The name of this enormous and apparently unwieldy animal, by which he is
known to us, is hippopotamus, from the Greek words--hippos, a horse;
potamos, a river.  Had the Greek travellers been better acquainted with
the appearance of this animal they might have called it river-cow, or
river-hog.  It is only when his head is half-submerged that we can
correctly designate him as a river-horse.  Once we see his nose and
mouth, we are apt to call him a river-cow; but when he is once well out
of the water, and we see his heavy body and short legs, we would say
immediately that he was more like an over-fat hog than either cow or
horse.  The hippopotamus has four equal toes on each foot, inclosed in
hoofs.

The unwary beasts rose and sank not many feet from the canoe for the
last time while they were abreast of the canoe; and, at the word given
by Kalulu, Simba and Moto dipped their paddles, and sent the boat into
the stream bow forward, the harpooneer entrusted with the duty of
striking standing rigid with uplifted weapon, ready for the blow.

A minute thus he stood, and all eyes were fixed expectant, when at the
bow rose the monstrous head and neck of a bull hippopotamus, and at the
same moment the harpoon was shot straight and deep into his neck, while
the bright blood gushed upward in streams.  The stricken animal sounded
immediately, while the water was lashed into foam by his struggles, and
soon the canoe was moving up the river at terrific speed, while the
water rose in high, brown waves at the bow.  Presently the speed
slackened, and the canoe began to float down the stream.

"Pull back! pull back!" shouted the harpooneer, and at the same time he
tossed the buoyant gourd, to which he had fastened the end of the rope
hitherto attached to the boat by a round turn around a cleat, into the
water.  Responsive to the cry, Simba and Moto dashed their paddles into
the water; but they were too late, for they felt the boat lifted up
bodily out of the water, and the crew, losing their equilibrium,
staggered on one side, which completely turned the canoe over, and
precipitated them into the water.

The three boys, Kalulu, Selim, and Abdullah, instinctively, as they felt
the canoe lifted out of the water, rose to their feet with their guns in
their hands, and when it was assumed beyond doubt that it would turn
over, sprang into the water in different directions, and dived to the
bottom, dragging themselves toward their island beneath, by clutching
the tenacious mud.  For some time the wounded hippopotamus remained
master of the field, and no enemy appearing in sight, he sank, uttering
a horrible bellow as he disappeared out of sight.

Immediately after, Selim appeared above the surface, more than twenty
yards from the scene of the disaster, and swimming vigorously towards
the island, which he soon gained in safety.  Then appeared Abdullah,
about ten yards from the bank; Kalulu close to the shore, with Simba,
and Moto, and the two warriors close to him.  In a second they stood on
the shore, Kalulu minus his gun, but having his sharp spear in his hand;
the two warriors had also retained their spears, while Simba and Moto
had their guns in their hands, and their long broad knives in their
waists.

As soon as they had regained the shore, and stood on dry land, the party
began to cheer the youthful straggler, Abdullah, and to encourage him to
greater exertions.  He was within five yards of the bank, and Simba and
Moto were already stretching their guns to him to grasp, when suddenly
Abdullah's smiling face assumed a look of terror, and a wild, thrilling
shriek was uttered by him, which was silenced instantly by the brown
waters closing over his head; and the calm, placid river flowed on, and
no swimmer was seen disturbing its surface.

For the shortest possible instant, all hands seemed turned into stone;
not a sound nor a breath was heard, until Kalulu was heard uttering the
terrible and awful word, "mamba!"--crocodile.

Simba and Moto then breathed, and confused murmurs were heard from all.
"Save him!" cried Selim; "oh, save poor Abdullah!"

There was no need to utter the prayer; for young Kalulu had divested
himself of his wet loin-cloth, had broken the staff of the spear he held
short off, close to the sharp head, and with the latter grasped firmly
in his hand, had plunged head-foremost, unconscious, as it were, of the
imminent danger of the hazardous undertaking, into the water, where
Abdullah was last seen.

Kalulu's feet had but disappeared beneath the water, when Simba and
Moto, dropping their guns, divested themselves of their loin-cloths,
and, grasping their long heavy knives, sprang in likewise, and the
river, disturbed for but a short second, flowed on as before, with its
silent, still flow.

It seemed an age to Selim, who stood on the bank with clasped hands, and
cowering form, a prey to the keenest anxiety for the fate of all his
friends, who had disappeared beneath the treacherous face of the river.

Yet thirty seconds could not have passed before the deep, brown water
was again disturbed, this time in a violent manner, while it began to be
slightly discoloured with, blood, and the crocodile's tail shot suddenly
above the surface, lashing the water into foam, and immediately after,
Abdullah's head; then Kalulu, Simba, and Moto simultaneously appeared
above, making for the shore with all haste.  As they reached the shore,
Kalulu was seen supporting, with his hand beneath the hip, the body of
Abdullah, who seemed to have lost consciousness.  The ready hands of the
two warriors dragged the almost lifeless body, as it reached the bank,
and laid it carefully a few feet from the river, on the ground, while
Kalulu, wringing his long braids clear of water, and drawing the
draggled ostrich feathers from his head, uttered a ringing peal of
laughter, and then said in a triumphant tone to Selim:

"We were too much for the mamba, Selim.  He did not get my slave
Abdullah this time!"

"Ah, thou art so brave, so good, Kalulu!" while grateful tears ran down
his cheeks, as he sprang forward to embrace the young hero.  "I shall
never, never forget thee!  I would not miss thy friendship for the
world!  Thou hast twice saved me--once from death, and another time from
the hands of the cruel Tifum.  Thou hast still more increased my love
for thee, my brave brother, by rescuing Abdullah from the jaws of that
horrid mamba.  How shall I thank thee, my Kalulu?  How shall I praise
thee?  Thou art swifter than an eagle, braver than a lion, comelier than
any of the sons of men!  Thine eyes are more tender than a gazelle's to
thy friends, fiercer than the greedy leopard's, when it scents the blood
of its prey, to thy enemies.  Thou art tall as a palm-tree, straight as
the hardened shaft of a spear, grace breathes in every movement of thy
limbs.  Thou hast saved the life of my playmate--even the life of
Abdullah, the Arab boy.  The dark grey waters had closed over his young
head, his voice had been silenced in the deep, when thou, O Kalulu,
didst leap in--a true hero!--to do battle with the scaly monster in
behalf of Abdullah, my friend, and playmate of my happy childhood.  I
saw the waters hiss and foam, as the monster battled with thee for his
prey.  The victory was given to thee; Allah made thine arm strong, thine
heart brave; for Abdullah, my friend, was brought back from death to
life, from the dark waters to the sunlight, from the grave to the light
of day.  O Kalulu! if a fatherless boy is beloved by Allah, my prayer
shall go up to God night and day for thee; if a true believer may
intercede with Heaven, then wilt thou be blessed, and the soul of
Abdullah's dead father shall cry for thee before the holy footstool of
Allah!"

"Ah, Selim!" replied Kalulu, embracing him in return, "has Kalulu, the
son of Mostana, pleased thee? then is Kalulu rewarded.  Kalulu is thy
brother, and his heart is soft towards Selim, and to the Arab boy, for
thy sake.  Thou art good--there is no guile in thee.  Kalulu is also
good, but he has seen wicked men; and when a wicked man draws nigh to
him, Kalulu's heart is black, and bitter, and his spear comes quickly to
his hand.  His eyes search out the good; they found the good in thee,
and Kalulu's heart went to thee as thou didst lie like an antelope
stricken to death in the forest.  I shall love all Arabs for thy sake
for ever.  There shall be bad blood no more between us.  For as good as
thou art am I good, and as I am good, so art thou.  Where I shall he,
there shalt thou be, and where thou wilt be, there shall I be, until
thou canst return in safety to thine own land.  And when thou goest, do
thou but remember thy brother Kalulu, and but whisper his name, then our
Sky-spirit shall send the wind to bear thy whisper to me.  Come, let us
see how poor Abdullah fares."

Proceeding to the spot where the still unconscious form of Abdullah lay,
they found that the crocodile had snatched the young swimmer by the
right leg, just below the knee, where his cruel sharp teeth had pierced
to the bone, leaving ugly marks behind him.

"How didst thou find the crocodile, Kalulu?"

"Oh, I sprang to the place where I saw thy friend sink, and by good luck
I came upon the crocodile's back.  The crocodile having dragged the boy
down, let go of his leg, and laid on top of him.  When the crocodile
felt me on his back, he turned round savagely, but without leaving his
prey.  I had no time to stop talking with him, or to ask him to give me
Abdullah back, because I knew he wouldn't; and besides, I didn't go to
ask him, for it is very close down there, and there is no air.  So I
felt for his foreleg, and while I stabbed him behind, I felt my two
friends, Moto and Simba, who perhaps thought that I was the crocodile,
though my hide is not quite so rough as the hide of him.  When the
fellow felt the keen point of my spear in his heart, he rolled off
Abdullah, and began to kick and lash with his tail in a dreadful way,
and losing my spear, I caught hold of Abdullah by the leg, and came up.
That's how it was."

"And what didst thou, too, Simba?" asked Selim, turning to his friend.

"When I went down, I caught hold of Moto's hand, and diving, I touched
Kalulu, but I knew at once that he was not the crocodile, for his skin
is as soft as a child's; the next minute I got hold of the crocodile's
leg, though he was kicking and laying about him furiously, and I let go
Moto's hand, who got hold of another leg.  I buried my knife in the
crocodile's belly several times, and he swam away, leaving his inside
dragging after him, while I came up to find Kalulu, Abdullah, and Moto
right close to me.  I think the crocodile has got more than he thought
he would get, and that he will leave Abdullah alone in future."

"Do you think Abdullah will come to soon?"

"Oh yes," replied Simba; "he has swallowed a little too much water, or
he has fainted from the pain.  See now, Master Selim, he breathes!
There, his eyes are open!"

Abdullah had only fainted, as Simba said, and this was the reason why
the crocodile had so soon released his hold of his leg, and had lain on
him.  When he opened his eyes, Abdullah gave a long sigh, and asked
where he was, to which a cheery answer was returned; and presently he
talked, and discussed the event calmly, but not before he had
endeavoured to kiss the feet of his saviour, which Kalulu had too much
manliness to accept; but he knelt down by him and embraced him, while
Abdullah availed himself of the opportunity, and kissed his forehead.

Abdullah having in a measure recovered, the two warriors were sent to
hunt after the canoe, which fortunately was found, stayed in its
progress by the reeds, at a point of the island projecting into the
current; and, to their great joy, close to the canoe was the gourd to
which was fastened the harpoon rope.  Giving vent to a loud halloo,
Simba, Moto, and Kalulu rushed towards them, and by their united aid
they dragged the body of the dead hippopotamus to shallow water, and
setting vigorously to work, they soon loaded their canoe with the
luscious flesh, it being a food highly prized by the tribes of Central
Africa.

By the time this work was despatched, it was night, and the hunters,
lifting the wounded Abdullah into the canoe, and having a clear course
up the river towards home, they started on their return journey, feeling
as proud as men who have been successful in a dangerous exploit only can
feel.  They sang over and over again exciting hunting and boat songs
with vociferous chorus, until midnight, when the fishermen's fires, near
Katalambula's village, gladdened their eyes and made them rejoice as
home-returned wanderers generally do.



CHAPTER NINE.

SELIM--HAPPY DAYS--THE LOVER'S SONG--THE MAGIC DOCTOR SOLTALI--KALULU
PROPOSES TO HUNT ELEPHANTS--PREPARATIONS FOR A DANCE--THE HUNTING-SONG--
THE ELEPHANT HUNTERS SET OUT--THE SCENES ON THE MARCH--THE HUNTERS'
DAMP--TEN ELEPHANTS!--KALULU ADDRESSES THE KING ELEPHANT--THE KING
ELEPHANT DIES--SELIM'S CONDUCT IN THE FIELD--KALULU IS ASTONISHED AT
SELIM'S PROWESS.

Selim was now happy; and next to being able to reach his own Zanjian
Isle, and revisit the scenes of his childhood, and romp, as of yore,
with the playmates of his youth, and enjoy walks through the
orange-groves with young Abdullah, he could not have chosen for himself
a more tranquil life than that which he now enjoyed with his friend and
new brother, Kalulu.

For the bright Liemba River was beautiful, though brown; its crisp
little wavelets, where they washed over stone and pebble in the
shallower parts, had music for him, though he never forgot that horrible
scene near the island, when the smiling face of Abdullah changed into
one of horror and sank down into the depths, with his shriek echoing
through the woods.

The banks of the Liemba became for him a frequent resort, for Kalulu had
made it generally known to all that he was his brother, and no Mtuta
under the King Katalambula might molest him.  Hence, he wandered where
he pleased, finding charms in the wild woods, and in the depths of
waving grain, in the peaceful, still life that reigned around, in the
music of the birds, and even in the harsh cries of paroquets.

The Selim, the brother of Kalulu, was not the Selim of Zanzibar, but was
the product of him, refined and pure from the fiery crucible of the
unusual hardships he had endured.  It was the same boy, but not the same
heart.  He, whom we knew at Zanzibar, the gay, light-hearted, sunny
youth, playing with the females in the harem and his playmates on the
beach, but ever listening in wonder to the great, wise words and sayings
of white men, was changed for the dreamy boy with the poet's heart, who
chose solitudes, forests, and the depths of tall corn-stalks to indulge
in reverie, which we are too apt to ascribe to melancholy.  Perhaps it
was melancholy, a tender, soft melancholy, engendered by many
reminiscences of a mournful nature, crowding together in the mind of a
boy who had suffered much, but who had seen but few years.  There was
the death of a loving father and loving kinsmen, the tragic fate of Isa
and Mussoud, the most narrow escape he had himself from death, and poor
Abdullah's narrow escape from a horrible fate.  These were not the best
kind of subjects to dwell in the mind of a boy of Selim's years; but
what aided to soften all these, and did much to lighten his burden, was
his present position, the tender friendship of Kalulu, the company of
the gentle Abdullah, the calm tranquillity of the life he was now
enjoying, and the consciousness--which his perfect trust in the goodness
of God created--that there was a God above, who was both good and great,
and who would bring him in his own good time out of all trouble.

For many days Abdullah suffered from the wounds which the crocodile's
sharp teeth had made in his leg.  High fever set in, during which time
he was attended by Simba, and Moto, Kalulu, and Selim.

All sport was at an end for Selim and Kalulu while their friend Abdullah
was thus suffering.  Nothing of enjoyment was thought of, nothing could
be thought of but their poor young patient, whose constitution was
battling vigorously against the fever which threatened often to
terminate his life.

And what a time poor Abdullah had!  Instead of the soft, silken
counterpane and feathered bolsters, and the fragrance of lime and orange
of his own comfortable home at Zanzibar, here were a mud-hut, low roof
of straw and mud, a goatskin for his bed, a low door of cane-stalks,
through which the white sunlight streamed hot and glaring, voices of a
thousand rats for music, and the bad smells caused by the indecent
habits of savages, for the perfume of ripe orange and cinnamon.  All
these aggravated the fever and created hideous dreams at night.  For
food he had a thin gruel, which Simba made for him to the best of his
ability; for drink, the muddy water of the Liemba or some pombe-beer.
Despite these, however, his constitution triumphed; the fever left him,
and the wounded leg, carefully bathed each morning by Simba, began to
heal.

When convalescent, Abdullah would leave his hut at evening, pale and
thin as a ghost, leaning on the arm of his true friends, Kalulu and
Selim, to enjoy the mild air, and to listen to the songs of the Watuta,
and the sonorous music of the drums.  The sight of the pale and thin
Arab boy touched the heart of many a maternal bosom, and many were the
expressions of condolence which he received from them.  He often heard
these dark-faced women utter expressions which he had never thought at
Zanzibar could ever be uttered by black women; and he was rapidly
beginning to learn that women are the same all over the world, whether
they are white or black, and that human love and kindness belong as much
to the black as to the white, and are as often practised.  And the
outcast, despised negro race were rising daily in his estimation.
Neither was Selim indifferent to the tones of sympathy he heard from
them; not only did Kalulu win his friendship more and more each day, but
the whole negro race was being admitted into his brotherhood.

These were really happy days.  Abdullah was improving each day, and
Selim was fast becoming as joyous a companion as Kalulu could desire.
Inspired by the invigorating sound of the drums, and the lively chorus,
he was compelled to leave the side of Abdullah and join in the dance.  A
favourite song of the Watuta was the boatmen's song, which seemed
interminable; but the chorus was so pretty, and had such a sweet,
pathetic melody, that Selim joined with pleasure in it for its pathos.

The first and second verses ran somewhat in this strain:--

  Down the brown Liemba,
  The home of fierce Mamba [crocodiles],
          We are gliding.
  With sudden stroke and song
  The boat is sent along,
          Swiftly gliding.

  We fear no fierce mamba
  In the deep Liemba
      While we are gliding;
  Nor bush nor thickest brake,
  Nor foe that would us take--
      Swiftly gliding.

The fifth, seventh, and eighth verses are descriptive of the scenery on
the Liemba:--

  By waving fields of grain.
  With song and loud refrain,
      We are gliding;
  While women hoe the corn
  Till eve from dewy morn--
      Swiftly gliding.

  Lo!  Isle of Ihata,
  Blest Isle of Liemba,
      By which we are gliding.
  The isle was long ago
  Blest by great Moshono--
      Softly gliding.

  Near that tree on yon plain
  Died Moshono in pain--
      We are gliding--
  Burnt by dread Warungu,
  Who fear no Malungu--
      Softly gliding.

The ninth verse is somewhat superstitious:--

  Sole on that lofty rock
  Lives Moshono's sacred cock.
      We are gliding.
  Now, boatmen, here cease to row,
  Bad luck, to hear no crow!--
      Softly gliding.

As I have said, the boat song is almost interminable; it describes every
view on that beautiful river, each tradition that surrounds the hills,
and memorable sites of battles fought and victories won; for it is thus
that our history was kept before writing was known to us.

Another song, which was a favourite with the young men and maidens of
Katalambula's village, describes what love-making is known to the
Watuta.  For this reason only is it valuable, as illustrative of the
mode of marriage.  The following verses are sufficient as an example:--

  Canst thou love me as I love thee?
  Wilt thou not come and live with me?
  My father talked with thine to-day,
  Thy father did not tell him "Nay."

  Said he, "Bring me two score of sheep;
  Bring me pombe in pots thus deep;
  Bring me ten goats of the best class,
  Thy son may take my pretty lass."

  I've built my hut of sedgy cane,
  The well-thatched roof keeps out the rain,
  The floor is spread with river sand,
  The latch waits lifting by thy hand.

  Thy husband calls, do not delay:
  Come to his house ere end of day;
  Put now thy hand in mine and come,
  Come to Kiranga's heart and home.

Selim and Abdullah heard numbers of these during the period of the
latter's convalescence, and were constantly amused by them.  To sit
under the great tree in the centre of the square, to hear the music of
the drums, to hear the songs sung, and to see the people dance, was like
going to a theatrical entertainment with us.  Kalulu often sat with
them, but not for long; the exhilarating influence of the music produced
such an effect on his feet and legs, that while listening to it he found
himself unable to restrain them.

As Abdullah got better and became able to move about during the day,
Kalulu used to take him and Selim to the great Maganga, or magic doctor,
to enjoy the conversation of the wise man of the tribe.

This doctor must have been at least eighty years old, for he remembered
Katalambula as a child, and knew Mostana, Kalulu's father, and
remembered the "great, great" King Loralamba, father of Katalambula and
Mostana.  This was very old history to Kalulu, who could not conceive
the number of years that had elapsed since Loralamba's death, though the
time could only have been between forty and fifty years.  The doctor,
whose name was Soltali, knew any amount of things that no other man
knew.  He remembered the time when the Northern Watuta, who now live
north of the Malagarazi River, separated from the Southern Watuta, over
whom Katalambula was chief ruler, for some pique that the younger
brother had against Loralamba.  He remembered many wars that had taken
place between the Watuta and Wabena, and remembered well the incident of
which the boatmen sang as they travelled down the Liemba, viz., the
burning of Moshono, a great doctor, who lived on the island of Ihata.
The Warungu came in great numbers, and were conquering wherever they
went, until they came opposite Ihata.  Then their cattle died, and their
warriors died of a horrible disease which Moshono punished them with.
Finally, however, they got across the river and landed on the island;
the village was taken, and Moshono was carried to the plain opposite the
island, and burnt alive near a great tree.  But it seemed as if the
Sky-spirit heard the words of Moshono, and stirred up the Watuta--all;
every man who could bear a sword and spear--against the Warungu, and a
few days after, the Watuta, under Loralamba, rushed on their camp at
night, and there was an exceeding great slaughter.  Only a few Warungu
escaped, and since then they had settled quietly in their own country,
south of the Lake Liemba, many days' march from Katalambula's.

Soltali was rich in this history, which, alas! is never destined to see
the light; a history that were a man disposed to write it for the mere
love of giving it to the world, and instructing it in the past life of
this obscure corner of the world, might enlighten the learned of all
countries in much that concerns the great races of Central Africa.

Soltali's hut was a veritable museum; but it bore a striking resemblance
to the rich men's houses in England and America in this respect.  What
ducal castle or baronial hall is there, in England, but has its
collection of deer, antelope, and buffalo horns; its stuffed lions; its
tigers, etc. etc.?  What rich man's house is there in America which has
not some trophy of its master's hunting prowess?  Soltali had his
trophies, though, owing to his pitiable ignorance of taste, book
knowledge, etc, etc, his trophies were not arranged as a Schwartzenberg
of Austria or a Duke of Sutherland arrange theirs.  There were horns
upon horns of antelope, kudu, hartebeest, black buck, springbok,
gemsbok, gnu, buffalo, and rhinoceros, and tusks upon tusks of polished
ivory.  But the great store of curiosities that he set the greatest
value upon consisted of tails of elephants, horns of giraffes, eyelids
of zebras, tusks of boars, paws of lions, nose-hairs and whiskers of
leopards, claws of eagles, beaks of bustards and kites, wings of
ostriches, scales of fish, dried eyes of ibis; all wrapped up in pieces
of goatskin, each separate the one from the other.  He had a great
number of little gourds, filled with the calcined heads of the various
animals he had ever killed, and smaller gourds, like phials, filled with
the burnt brains of men whom he had killed in war.  There were so many
brains of Warungu, Wabena, Wasowa, Wakawendi, Wawemba, Warori,
Wanyamwezi, Wamwite, Wakanyara, Wakokoro, and a number of other smaller
tribes; for in his prime, when he fought side by side with Loralamba,
the "great, great" King, Soltali's spear was heavy, sharp, and sure.

Poor, ancient Soltali! who shall sing thy praises?  Who shall tell the
wide, wide world all the deeds done by thy mighty hands?  Where is the
Homer who shall arise and sing of thy prowess?  Homer, and Virgil, and
Tasso, De Ercilla, and Camoens are dead, and we have none left capable
of conveying thy name to future generations.  But be content, old man;
this page, at least, of this little book will tell a few of the growing
generation of true-hearted American and British youths, that such a man
did once live as thee, oh, Soltali! and, perhaps, in an obscure corner
of the British Museum, thyself and wondrous museum of monstrosities
shall, embodied as it were in this page, rest a few years until they
become a heap of dead, unintelligible dust!

At the end of about two months, Abdullah was so far recovered as to be
able to go about alone, without the aid of any of his friends; but he
had an unconquerable antipathy to the banks of the Liemba.  The brown
waters of this river, in which he was so very near being engulphed,
inspired him with a nauseous aversion, having something of the effect of
tartar emetic on his stomach, and he never dared, as Selim often did, to
wander along its banks alone.  When he became tired of the village he
walked to the fields, or the gardens, where the pot-herbs, the lentils,
the pig-nuts, and the beans grew.  Neither forest nor solitude charmed
Abdullah; the company of the nursing women, or the workers in the field,
was far preferable.

One day, Kalulu proposed to Selim, and Simba, and Moto, that they should
get up a party to make a grand elephant hunt, and, as an apology, said
to Selim:

"I should have asked thee long ago, were it not that I knew thou wouldst
not come; but Abdullah is so much better that he travels about the
village as if he had never been bitten by a crocodile."

"To hunt elephants I will surely come with thee.  I have got my gun,
which I saved from the Liemba, and I should like to try a shot at an
elephant.  Moto is a great hunter, and he shall teach me how to tickle
the tail and hams of one; thou hast never heard him tell the story.  Oh,
it is such an incredible one! but he never tells a lie to me."

"Does Moto say he tickled the tail of an elephant? if it is true, he has
done more than old Soltali himself.  Soltali has done some wonderful
things with elephants too, but he never did anything like this.
However, we shall see how he acts before a real wild elephant.  We shall
watch him--eh, Selim?"

"Oh, I shall have my eyes on him, depend on it; but when shall we go,
Kalulu?"

"At daybreak to-morrow.  To-night Soltali must sing the elephant
hunting-song of the hunters, and must give each of the hunters a charm,
since he is too old to accompany us.  I shall take fifty men with me, so
that we can make a strong party.  If Ferodia catches us in the woods he
would make short work of us, and my head would not remain long on my
shoulders if he caught me; for then he knows he would be king."

"Why, thou art not going near his country, surely! because I would
rather stop here, if thou art.  I want to see no more of Ferodia," said
Selim in alarm.

"Be at ease, my brother.  I go not near him with the best fifty men that
the Watuta can count.  I go in a different direction, south-east; he
lives south-west, south of the Liemba Lake."

"All right; but really thou didst frighten me.  My back fairly tingles
at the thought of Tifum, and Tifum is with Ferodia."

"Yet, my brother, thou didst hit him a blow in the face, and Moto--
cunning man--said he saw it, and said it was well done."

"I wish the blow had gone through his head, then my mind would be at
ease, for that man is my bane--my Afrit.  [Afrit is a bad spirit with
the Moslems.]  Even when I am at Zanzibar I shall think of that man."

"There, enough, my brother; I will put one of my barbed arrows through
his throat the first time I see him, for thy sake.  Go and prepare thy
gun, and bullets, and medicine powder, and to-night thou must attend to
the song of the doctor, or thou shalt have bad luck with us in the
hunt."  And Kalulu turned away with light hounding steps, which soon
carried him away from his Arab brother.

At night--probably at the hour of nine with us, the moon being up--a
long, low, rumbling roll of the largest goma brought the destined
hunters, together with Kalulu, Selim, Simba, and Moto, running and
chasing each other towards the drum stand.  There were ten drums, and a
boy for each, ascending in height from the smallest to the biggest drum;
so that the boy who beat the smallest drum must have been about ten
years old, and the boy who beat the largest drum was a sturdy youth of
twenty, or thereabouts.

Pots full of pombe and plantain-wine were ranged a little distance off,
from which the dancers and the singers could regale themselves when they
felt disposed.  For the eve of a hunting party's march is considered a
great event, second only to the return of a successful party with plenty
of ivory.

The hunters formed a select circle round the drummers and the pombe
pots; a larger circle, made by about three hundred people--men, women,
boys, and girls--surrounded the hunters.

Each hunter had on a capricious head-dress.  One tall fellow was very
conspicuous by wearing a pair of buffalo horns; another had a rhinoceros
horn on the top of his head; another had his head draped with a piece of
zebra skin, which gave him quite a remarkable appearance by moonlight;
one had a zebra crest, which made him appear as if he wore a Greek
helmet; another had a goatskin over his head.  Kalulu wore three
magnificent snowy ostrich plumes on his head.  Selim wore a turban.
Simba and Moto also wore turbans.  One fellow, next to Moto, wore an
enormous black earthen pot on his head; another had a broad, wooden
dish; but it would be wearying to enumerate all the strange things they
wore.

The drummer boys struck up an interlude, which was a verse from the
boatmen's song--the chorus,

  We are gliding,
  Softly gliding,

seemingly giving them immeasurable enjoyment as they lingered over the
word "gliding."  While they were busy with feet and lungs, moving about
in a circle, a sudden silence prevailed;--the great Soltali, the
greatest elephant hunter and doctor of magic of the age, arrived upon
the scene.

A loud murmur of approbation greeted the extraordinary old man.  The
most remarkable of all head-dresses was on the head of Soltali, for he
had the skin of an elephant's trunk, the base of the trunk fitting his
head, as if it had grown there, while the trunk, filled with grass, was
stiff enough to stand perfectly erect, though perhaps it was stiff
enough without.  The weight of this must have been considerable; but the
ridiculous vanity of men causes them to do strange things sometimes, and
this act could have been nothing else than absurdest vanity.  Hanging
around the old man's neck was a string of giraffe tails, whose hairs
were blacker than ink.  On his arms he wore wristlets and armlets of
pure white ivory.  In each hand he carried a gourd half full of pebbles,
which he rattled every now and then with a horrible noise.

He first, after he entered the inner circle, walked around three times,
staring at each man, rattling his gourds alternately, as he passed
round; then walking to the centre, while the bass drum began to hum and
murmur its deep sounds, he began to move his body to the right and left,
each hunter sighing deeply in sympathy with the now fast rising murmur
of all the drums in concert.  Loud and louder beat the drums, until the
noise was deafening, and the voices of the singers became a demoniac
din; then lower and lower descended the voices and the drum-sounds,
until nothing was heard but the pacific and low murmur of the bass drum
and the low sighs of the dancers.

Then Soltali opened his mouth and sang, in the heroic vein, of his
doings in the elephant hunt in the far southern lands, the streamy land
of the Wa-marungu, in the hot swampy lands of the Wawemba, and on the
broad plains of Ututa; of his mishaps and fortunes, his narrow,
hair-breadth escapes, and his wonderful adventures, out of which the
author of the present history might make his fame and fortune were he
gifted with the power to translate into some kind of verse what Soltali
said.

Though demurring somewhat at the necessity of translating at all what
the old man said, the author feels compelled to give the gist of the
charge he gave the hunters concerning their conduct when they should
meet an elephant.  He spoke authoritatively and well, and it is a pity
that a better translator is not at my side to assist me in the
translation of some of the Kituta polysyllables.

  "Let the warrior Watuta, and the hunters bold
  Heed and mark well the words of the Mganga old;
  Let them behold these charms, these trophies of my might
  Each of them reminds me of many a hard fight.
  Should ye meet the elephant alone in a plain,
  Seek not too hastily to give him the death pain.
  Singly let none attack him--'tis an unequal fight;
  For the elephant is strong, the embodiment of might;
  But surround him coolly, and carefully all,
  Be ready to obey your leader's slightest call;
  Then charge on him, all shouting, and charge with your spears;
  Let the stoutest and best of you aim behind his ears.
  Watch well the unfortunate on whom he turns round!
  He must run this and that way, and oft change his ground;
  Ye others must tease him, and invite him your way,
  Hamstring him, and spear him, and do what ye may.
  Beware of his front! range on his sides and his rear,
  Go all together, and let each man heave a sure spear.
  Fast as he veers round, hasten at right angles away
  To 'scape the elephant's first charge is no child's play,
  For his stride is so long he swallows the ground:
  One stride of his is as long as a hunter's bound.
  After a while he will get tired--heed well what I say,
  He is never so dangerous as when standing at bay;
  For the hunter too often thinks he is dead game,
  And advances too near him, too eager for fame;
  But be ye guided by me, and stand off afar,
  And your good hunt so well done, ye will not mar.
  Let the elephant bleed, let him fall to the ground,
  Let him gladden your ears with his fall's heavy sound!
  Then think of the Mganga, the words he has said;
  Be sure that his services to you are well paid!
  Then will ye succeed in your hunt on the plain,
  Succeed without loss, and succeed without pain!"

The author may not attempt further translations from the speech, or song
rather, of this old Mganga or magic doctor, the Kituta polysyllables
having tasked his powers to the utmost; but from his knowledge of
hunting in Africa, he feels bound to admit that the old man had a sound
head on his shoulders; and the band of hunters having heard his lengthy
chant to the end, declared that they felt eternally grateful to him.  On
the conclusion of his chant, he delivered to each hunter a small portion
of whitish powder, which we, who have been in his museum, feel confident
consisted of burnt brain, mixed with wood ashes.  But this charm,
consecrated by the magic doctor, could not fail to render each hunter
highly successful in his enterprise.

The pombe, or beer, next attracts the attention of the singers, and each
singer incontinently sets to the agreeable task of guzzling, where the
author leaves them until the morrow--the Kituta polysyllables and the
pombe having fairly upset him for the time.

In the morning, at daybreak, without any of the formalities of muster or
calling the roll, Kalulu, Selim, Simba, and Moto, left the village by
the principal gate, followed by about fifty strong active young
warriors, not one of whom could have been over thirty years old.  The
horn of the leading hunter sounded merrily as he blew his ringing blasts
of adieux, while the party dived into the depths of the gigantic
corn-stalks, and their friends at the village listened long and
attentively, until the horn could be no longer heard.

Kalulu had a couple of broad-bladed spears, and half-a-dozen assegais,
much lighter than spears, with long flexible shafts, besides a bow and a
quiver pack-full of arrows, which was slung over his shoulders.

Selim, radiantly happy, walked next to Kalulu, as the path was so narrow
that but one could walk at a time on the smooth, hard road, and carried
his own gun--the "gun from London," which Kalulu had found among the
plunder, with its own special ammunition.  It was probably a fine "Joe
Manton" as the barrels were of fine steel, short, of large bore, and a
heavy price had been paid for it by Amer bin Osman through his Bombay
agent.  It was one of those fortunate accidents that occur sometimes.
Olimali might have had the gun, had not Ferodia, seeing its great beauty
and superiority, specially reserved it for a present to Katalambula; and
the king not caring, or not having any use, for it, had placed it among
his treasures in his store-room; and Selim, accompanying Kalulu to the
store-room, as a privileged brother, to pick out a gun, suddenly saw the
beautiful little masterpiece of the English gunmaker, which his father
had presented him with, and with which he had shot the greedy crocodile
on the Lofu, while his sharp teeth were lacerating his slave Mombo's
leg.  Could anything have been more fortunate?  "Impossible!" thought
Selim, as he had hastened to secure it, with the ammunition and the
percussion caps.  "Impossible!" thought he now, as he strode on after
Kalulu, laughing and chatting gaily, and sometimes turning round to
Simba and Moto with a gay remark, which permitted them to see his
bright, happy face and sparkling eyes.

Simba had his own bright-barrelled gun, which he had as yet never parted
with, besides a ponderous spear, which might have made Goliath of Gath
faint with the carrying of it.

Behind Simba strode nimble-footed Moto, who also had his own gun,
besides a couple of long keen-pointed spears.

Behind Moto strode the Watuta hunters, one after another, some of them
armed with shields, besides their handfuls of spears and quivers fall of
arrows.

Merriness is what distinguishes the conduct of all hunting parties,
whether white or black, while on the way to the chase or the hunt.
Pleasures unlimited are anticipated, and happy sport is expected, and
this anticipation and expectation are what produce so many good jokes,
and wit, and fun, and raillery, or, as the English call it, "chaff,"
when the hunting-field has not yet been reached and all feel bright and
fresh.  The hours that precede the chase or the hunt form the
flower-time which men's minds love to remember and dwell upon for the
unalloyed happiness which it furnished.

It is needless to describe in detail the ground the party traversed.
Once out of the corn-fields, the pastoral plains spread before them,
where young Watuta boys were seen indulging in the excitement of a mimic
battle or hunt while they tended their fathers' flocks.  Here and there
were little tracts of cultivation where women were at work hoeing the
corn; and as they passed some isolated village, near the gate, under the
trees, sat the nursing mothers, lullabying their babes to sleep, or the
snowy crisp-haired elders sat on short three-legged stools retailing to
each other the experiences of their lives, dwelling with fondness on
some particular episode of their generally uneventful lives; while
chubby, abdominous little children listened in wonder at what they
heard, as chubby, abdominous little boys of white men's lands do when a
particularly interesting tale is told.

Beyond the plains and corn-fields, the cultivated tracts and villages,
heaved into view the dark-blue line of forest--that forest which Selim
knew, where he suffered, where he fainted, and laid unconscious.
Finally, the party entered it, and they were involved in its twilight
gloom.

A week's, marching through the forest brought the party to the elephant
hunting-grounds of the Watutu.  The broad tracks, pounded and pressed,
trodden compact and smooth as an asphalte pavement by the elephants'
broad, heavy feet, indicated too clearly that this was a common resort
for the ponderous beasts.

Lengthy sinuous hollows, overgrown with thicket and shrub, tufted grass,
and tall cane, spoke of clear but stagnant water being plentiful here,
their ridges, clad with dense brush, ran in serpentine directions, and
separated these swampy hollows from each other.  Overhead were the leafy
crowns of gigantic columnar trees, forming as they met close together a
thorough shade for the locality, under which, undisturbed by any enemy,
the elephant might cool himself during the fervid noon.

Pressing further on out of this swampy region, they came, about sunset,
to a thin jungle, where here and there rose a giant baobab, the monarch
of all woods.  Choosing one of these great trees, whose foliage was
denser than ordinary, the party proceeded to cut down the smaller trees
and brush, to form a brush fence around their camp, for the centre of
which they chose this great baobab.  They built the fence solid, secure,
and high, as an efficient protection against wild beasts and nomadic
freebooters.  They then erected their huts--placing four short pronged
poles in the ground, one at each corner of a square of six feet; then
two taller poles dividing the square into halves; over these two taller
poles and the two shorter poles on each side they laid transverse poles,
which rested in the forks; and over these again they laid laterally
light sticks, sloping down each side, which they covered over with long
grass, and in a short time they had a perfect miniature house.  There
were other kinds of houses or huts being constructed; but the following
illustration will best describe the architectural knowledge of the
Watutu.

After constructing their huts, some roamed into the woods to hunt for
wild fruit, others to look for flat stones to grind their corn upon,
others to procure sticks to make their fires with, others to get water;
while others, again, scoured and prepared their pots to boil their
porridge in.  There were about fifteen huts in the encampment, some huts
having as many as five for a mess, others only three, while others had
but two.  It is a noteworthy fact in African camps that, where the mess
is large, the more important of the party are together; or that the most
popular are those who prefer each other's society to that of any of the
rest; though in each large mess one may be sure that one of the members
has been admitted only for the sake of utilising his services; and his
folly and ignorance, or cowardice and unworthiness, are forgiven and
borne with, so long as he is industrious and not idle.

Thus in Kalulu's mess were Selim, Simba, Moto, and an ignorant and timid
fellow, who was only too glad to be near the great, and who
industriously strove to please them for the sake of the patronage which
he received for his labour.  Kalulu, of course, as chief, could command
the services of all if he chose to do so, but none would have worked as
well as the timid fellow who voluntarily offered to cook for him.

After the suppers were cooked and eaten, and their limbs were somewhat
rested, and earth had drawn its sable mantle, chequered with the
diamonds of heaven, over its head, and the dark foliage of the baobab
began to be peopled with formless shapes and shadows, and the fires
burned bright, and cast their tongued flames with splutter, and hissing,
and crackling, the dispositions of each began to be exhibited.  They
squatted around a blazing pile, listening to an exciting tale of
adventure, or a funny story, which makes men's sides almost explode with
laughter.  What can be more enjoyable?  Nothing.  People, for the time,
forget everything but the interesting present.  Not one in such a
position can be left to himself; for his little world is before him, and
he must be drawn into its vortex of pleasantry and enjoyment, and forget
what he selfishly thinks belongs to himself.

The desire of slumber came on by-and-bye, and each man crept into his
hut, and on his own little pile of straw or leaves, drowned in kindly,
healthy sleep, forgot not only himself, but his neighbours, his friends,
and his tribe.

At dawn, five of the likeliest fellows were sent by Kalulu to
reconnoitre the vicinity and the open, swampy ground near which they had
camped, and where they had obtained their water for cooking the night
before.

They had not been gone fifteen minutes before one of them returned, who,
with a warning finger, imposed silence, and whispered the words "Kumi
tembo"--ten elephants!

You might have seen then how quickly the looks of indifference were
changed into one of exciting interest, how eyes danced gladly, and
sparkled at the joyful news; how Kalulu's hunter-soul kindled into
raptures, and how Moto and Simba looked significantly at one another,
and how Selim even felt a throb and a warm glow stealing over him.

Moto advanced to Kalulu, and reminded him of the advice given by Soltali
to hunt one at a time, and said that while he and his warriors should
single out one, it would be better that those armed with guns, viz., he
and Simba, and Selim, should engage another, and so kill two.  Kalulu at
once acceded to the proposal.

The hunters, as soon as they got outside of the boma or camp, deployed
in a long line, while Selim, Moto, and Simba stole quietly and quickly
away on their own venture, in a direction considerably to the left of
the Watuta hunters.  All the natives had denuded themselves entirely;
Selim and his two friends had but girded their cloths about their loins.

The natives thus deployed, and ready at a signal, moved forward
silently, and soon they were joined by the four remaining scouts, who,
ensconced behind the bushes, had continued to watch the elephants, who
were seen slaking their thirst at a pool, and playfully tossing the
water over their backs.

As the hunters emerged from this jungle into the cleared space near the
pool, the elephants turned short round to look at the strange intruders,
who were thus boldly appearing in their presence.

The hunters stopped also with one accord to survey the ponderous animals
they had come to kill.  What a sight this was!  Ten such noble beasts,
clothed with bluish-grey hides, with uplifted trunks, and great ears
standing out straight in array before those fifty naked pigmies, who,
had they not their sharp spears and their barbed arrows, would no more
have dared to approach these magnificent creatures than they would have
climbed up to the highest tree and jumped off, expecting to be able to
fly.

They stood thus a minute opposed to each other; then Kalulu advanced to
the front in the absence of the magic doctor, as the chief hunter, and
with uplifted spear in hand, chanted the death-song of the elephant he
chose should be killed.  This was a picture also worthy of a great
artist--the warriors in the foreground, the slight and nude form of the
young chief in the centre, with his ostrich plumes waving above his
head, as his body oscillated from side to side while he sang; and
fronting him, about thirty feet off, a monster elephant, with his herd
behind him, all looking astonished at the scene.

The words ran after this fashion:--

  "Thou monarch of beasts, thou king of the woods,
  Thou dangerous beast in thy angry moods,
  Thou elephant strong, thou form of great might,
  Behold Kalulu before thee for fight!
  I've come from the green groves of Liemba,
  From the country of old Loralamba,
  With magic from Soltali Mganga [Magic Doctor],
  The surest and best of his Uganga [Magic Medicine].
  Then look at that sun, look at the pool
  In which thou didst revel, and think so cool;
  Look on that forest, and look on this grass.
  The sweetest and best of this wide morass;
  No more shalt thou see the sun or the pool,
  No more shalt thou revel in waters cool,
  No more shalt thou walk in the forest's shade,
  No more shalt thou delight in forest glade,
  No more shalt thou daintily feed on the grass
  Of the plain, or jungle, or this morass!
  Soltali the Mganga cannot lie:
  Young Kalulu is here! prepare to die!"

As he finished his song his head was violently thrown back, the right
arm was drawn to its length, and the bright spear-head, flashing once,
twice, white sun-glints, was buried deep in the elephant's chest.  A
loud shout greeted the brave effort; and at the instant the elephant
felt the keen sharp iron in him, he uttered a loud trumpet-note of rage,
and charged, clearing at one bound several strides of a man.

"Be off, Kalulu, thou brave prince of the Watuta!  Hie away young hero!
Stay not to count thy steps, thou dusky chief!  Spring out, my boy; run
as thou didst never run before!  Impel thy haunches on--lift thy feet
clear from the ground; out with thy chest--set thy head far back!  Let
thy lungs inhale free the rushing air!  Beware of a stumble, else the
tale is ended!  Ha! well done--at right angles now!  So; see the
elephant charges the empty air, and runs headlong after vacancy!  Now,
warriors, is our time, with a whoop, and the shrill cry of the Watuta!"

Such were the words that could be distinguished from the noise and
tumult produced by the charge.  Twenty spears had been launched into the
elephant's body to distract his attention, and had it not been for
Soltali's good advice to "turn at right angles away," the elephant would
soon have overtaken the daring young chief; but, by his dexterous and
easy movement to the right, the monster had charged on far ahead before
he became aware that his enemy had escaped him.

When he turned round he found the hunters like a cloud about him; he
found himself isolated from his herd; the other elephants having charged
in another direction in fury and fright to meet an enemy in another
guise, and with different weapons.  While the elephant seemed to take
this all at a glance, a loud report was heard, which sounded like a
volley of fire-arms; but he, unheeding the sound, charged again, with
irresistible power, at his nearest foe, only to be foiled once more by
the ever-evading, ever-shifting figures of his remorseless enemies.
Again and again he charged, only to receive new wounds, an additional
shower of spears and barbed arrows, which tormented him cruelly; until,
fatigued with the unusual speed, faint from loss of blood, he stood
stock still, confronting his enemies, defiant and still dreadful, though
the spears and arrows in his body might have been counted by hundreds.
Heedful of the prudent counsel of old Soltali, the Watuta drew back, but
still surrounding him, awaiting his fall.  They had not to wait long,
before they saw his body oscillate from side to side, and the left knee
bend, as if he were getting weak; then he staggered forward, rose up
again, and finally rolled on his side--dead, crushing the spears in his
side like straws in his fall.

Leaving the Watuta to indulge in their self-glorification, let us
proceed to see how the other three, Selim, Simba, and Moto, fared.

Moto, as the three left the Watuta, drew alongside of Selim, and
whispered some words in his ears, how to conduct himself, to reserve his
fire, and to fire at the last elephant which would pass him, aiming
behind his ears, which, of course, would be standing straight out,
giving him an ample opportunity and a good target to fire at.  Selim,
faithfully promising, was placed behind a tree at the furthest end of
the cleared ground in the neighbourhood of the pool.  Simba chose one a
few yards off, further still to the left, and Moto another tree twenty
yards to the left of Simba; and in this position they waited the
denouement.

Selim could see the swaying form and nodding plumes of Kalulu, could
hear the death-song, and with his finger on the two triggers of his gun,
which was heavily loaded specially for this purpose, stood behind his
tree waiting.  Soon he saw Kalulu launch his spear, saw the charge and
flight, heard the deafening noise, and while his heart palpitated fast,
and his pulses throbbed, and his ears tingled, came the affrighted
animals of the herd, charging in fear and fury by him.  Obediently he
waited, according to orders, until the last elephant was passing his
position, then, stilling the heart's palpitation and the wildly beating
pulse, full of trust and confidence in the powers of his English gun, he
deliberately aimed behind the elephant's ears, and fired both barrels at
once.  The concussion knocked him down; but, while falling, he saw his
elephant stumble and fall on his head in a motionless heap, stone dead.

Picking himself hastily up, and snatching his gun, he stayed a moment to
take in how matters stood; and finding the elephants in full flight, two
limping laggards behind, and Simba and Moto following, he began to load
his gun again with equally heavy charges as those he had in it
previously; and having placed the caps carefully on, and taking a glance
of pride at the game he had "bagged," he ran after Simba and Moto.  His
two friends he found firing, running, and loading as fast as they could;
not a very hard task when the animals were so badly wounded.  His nimble
feet soon carried him nearer them, and after dodging and running as he
had been directed to, as he was pursued by one or the other of the
elephants, he had the satisfaction at last of seeing both stand still.
Retreating a little distance from view, he took a circuit round, and
then returned, taking advantage of every tree, and by great caution
succeeded in coming behind a large tree at the distance of twelve paces
from one of them.  Lifting his gun, already cocked, to his shoulders, he
took aim again behind the ears, and fired the two barrels once more,
which was met with the same fatal result, for the elephant, after
beating the air with his forelegs for a short time, swayed pitifully,
and fell over, dead.

But Selim had no time to make these observations, for the other elephant
turned short round and charged at the tree.  Selim stood his ground
until the tree had almost been reached, when, dropping the gun on the
ground, he started off for another tree, the elephant in hot pursuit
after him.  To the right, to the left, forwards and backwards, from tree
to tree, Selim ran, until the elephant, to his astonishment, suddenly
stopped, the hind-legs doubled under him, the forelegs bent, and his
head came to the ground heavily, and in this kneeling position the poor
elephant breathed his last.

Selim had his gun brought to him by Simba, who lavished praises, almost
fulsome, on his bravery and accuracy of shooting, in which Moto, who now
came up, joined with heart and spirit.  Simba, while he embraced his
young master, would have it that Selim was the best elephant hunter
known; there never was such an Arab boy before, who shot two elephants
dead one after another.  "And thou must consider, Moto," said he,
apologetically, "Selim is but sixteen; if he shoots two elephants, one
after another, when he is sixteen, what will he do when he is a grown
man?"

"True," answered Moto, "when he is double his age he will shoot four one
after another.  Selim is a great hunter truly.  I wonder what the Watuta
have done.  Whisht! hear their cries!  Their elephant is dead.  We must
go to see them.  Or do thou stop with Selim to watch these whilst I go
to tell them what our young master has done.  Say, Simba, how much money
would the ivory of these three elephants bring at Zanzibar, dost thou
think?"

"I know not.  How many frasilah dost thou think there are in the three?"
asked Simba.

"Somewhere about twelve, I should say?  Twelve frasilah of ivory at 50
dollars the frasilah (35 pounds) would make how much?" asked Moto.

"I don't know--plenty, I suppose," said Simba; "but Selim knows."

"Twelve fifties will make 600--six hundred dollars," answered Selim.

"Six hundred dollars!  What a pity we cannot carry it to Zanzibar!" said
Moto.  "I shall be back directly."

Moto bounded away lightly towards the pool, and in a short time in the
middle of the plain beyond he saw the Watuta in a group cutting and
slashing at the dead elephant, with noise and excitement enough to
frighten every elephant for miles around.

When he approached, the Watuta gathered about him, and Kalulu pointed
exultantly at the dead beast into which he had driven the first spear,
and Kalulu then asked what luck they had had.

Moto answered: "Selim has killed two, and I have killed one."

"Selim killed two!" echoed Kalulu, with surprise.  "What! little Selim
my brother?"

"The same," answered Moto.

"Eyah, eyah!" murmured the group, while Kalulu seemed lost in
astonishment, and could not utter a word more.

"Selim stands waiting to shew them to his brother, Kalulu," said Moto.

"Oh, I shall come.  Why Selim is a hero, a lion, an elephant!  Is he
not, Moto?"

"He is a brave young Arab, and the son of an Arab chief," answered Moto.

When the young chief started off, all but a few Watuta, who remained to
extract the tusks, followed him to see the wonderful three dead
elephants.

In the same position in which he had first fallen lay Selim's first
prize, with his tusks half buried in the ground.  Kalulu gazed at the
wide wound in his head, put his fist into it until it was buried up to
the wrist, and then turned to Moto with wondering eyes, and said:

"Kalulu has seen dead men in his father's village, pierced to the heart
with the leaden balls which the rifles of Kisesa threw, but what gun is
this that makes such big holes in the elephant's head?"

Then Moto told him that Selim had fired the two barrels of the gun at
once, at such a short distance from the elephant, that the two big
bullets went into the head as one, and that this was the reason there
was such a big hole, which quite satisfied the young chief.

Leaving ten men to extract the tusks, Kalulu proceeded to where Selim
and Simba stood, close to the former's second prize; and here, again,
Kalulu saw the wide rent and savage wound in the same spot as that found
in the first elephant.

Kalulu sprang on Selim's neck, and embraced him warmly, while the Watuta
gazed at Selim as on one they had never seen before, with surprise and
unlimited admiration.

By evening the tusks had all been extracted from the elephants, and
great portions of the meat were carried to camp, especially the feet,
the hearts, and livers, and ribs, where, before blazing fire-piles, the
meat was set to roasting, while the adventures of the day were rehearsed
over and over, with new additions each time, until midnight of that
eventful day came and sealed all eyes in deep slumber.

They moved further south, and in less than two weeks the party had
killed twenty elephants, which so loaded them with ivory, that they were
obliged to return towards home, unable to carry more.



CHAPTER TEN.

THE BURIAL SONG--KALULU BECOMES KING--LONG LIVE KING KALULU--KALULU'S
ORATION--SELIM ASKS PERMISSION TO DEPART--THE DISSATISFIED MINORITY--
FERODIA'S AMBITION--TIFUM THE WICKED, AND HIS ADVICE--FERODIA VISITS
KALULU--THE TREACHEROUS GUESTS.

After a march of two weeks without a single incident, they arrived at
Katalambula's village, to hear the sad news that the King had died the
day before, and that everybody was mourning for him.

This was a great shock for Kalulu, for the King had loved him dearly,
and the young chief bore him great affection in return.

When at first the news was conveyed to him, he seemed to be suddenly
stricken dumb, his face assumed a livid hue, and he trembled all over.
Then, giving vent to his sorrows in a long, sad cry of sorrow, he
hastened to the King's house, where the doctors were found attending the
corpse, and at once threw himself on the body, uttering the most doleful
lamentations, crying, "Awake, thou King! thou chief of the Watuta,
awake!  Behold me, thy son, Kalulu, returned from the chase!  Open thine
ears, O Katalambula!  Listen to the voice of thy son!  Open thy eyes, O
Katalambula! stretch out thine hand, and feel the form of him thou didst
so love!  Speak, Katalambula!  Say, whither hast thou gone, that thy
voice may no longer be heard, nor thy ears may longer hear Kalulu's
Voice?  Kalulu, the child of thy brother Mostana, calls unto thee!  Come
out with me, O Katalambula!  Come out under the tree! come and tell
Kalulu of thy prowess when thou wert young!  Ah!  Katalambula, I shall
die if thou wilt not wake up!" and thus he kept calling on the dead,
until he found his cries and tears were of no avail.  He rose then, and
went to his hut, and closed the door, and on his rugged bed, his tears
flowed silently and swiftly, until it seemed as if his soul would melt
in tears.

When near sunset, the grave being ready, under a hut erected over it at
the corner of the square, and the ceremony of burial was about to begin,
Kalulu came out of his hut to do honour to the body of Katalambula.  All
the Wa-mganga [Wa-mganga--plural of mganga--magic doctors] from the
neighbouring villages were gathered together; all the elders, the
councillors, and principal men of the tribe were assembled, until the
great square of the capital was crowded with warriors, women, and
children.  In order that the ceremony might be allowed to proceed in due
form, they had arranged themselves around a large circle, having the
great tree for its centre.  In this circle were assembled the doctors of
magio and the chief mourners, and near them were the fattest, finest
bulls that could be procured, black in colour and without a single
blemish, which were to be killed over Katalambula's grave; near by,
also, were enormous earthenware pots of pombe (beer) and plaintain wine,
which were to be poured over the grave as a libation to his manes.

The drummers were in their places, the wa-mganga (doctors) were ready,
painted and striped with white chalk all over, with the gourds,
half-filled with pebbles, in their hands; and the chant began.

The author, in order to do something like justice to the pathetic
death-song of the King, finds himself compelled to give as literal a
translation as possible.  The tune was most mournful, the chorus most
pathetic, being drawn out into a long, sweet-toned wail; and the voices
of the women and children, mingling with the deeper voices of the
warriors, were effectively impressive:

  The son of Loralamba,
  The conqueror of Uwemba,
  The Sultan of Liemba,
      Is dead!

  The brother of Mostana,
  The wisest Manyapara,
  The King of the Watuta,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  He who fought Wa-marungu,
  The great lord of Kwikuru,
  The wise son of Malungu,
      Is dead!

      He who slew Tamaniro,
  Chief of the Wukhokoro,
  By the river Amhenuro,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  Who triumph'd o'er Kansala,
  Near the Mount Araboella,
  In the land of Kinyala,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  The uncle of Kalulu,
  The sire of Koranilu
  And pretty Imamulu,
      Is dead!
  He who married Lamoli,
  The daughter of Soltali,
  By the woman Zimbili,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  The lord of Mohilizi,
  And the land from Bonzi
  To the River Zambezi,
  Is dead!
  The bravest, wisest Mwenni,
  Of the tribe of Meroeni,
  The dauntless Simbamwenni,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  He was fear'd by Wagala,
  By the fierce Wazavila,
  Was great Katalambula,
      Who is dead!
  But the mighty Mtuta,
  Bravest of the Watuta,
  The Sultan of Ututa,
      Is dead!
  _Chorus_.  He is dead!
      Oh, he is dead!

  Ah! the King we did adore,
  We shall see his face no more,
  And our hearts are sad and sore,
      For he is dead!
  Kindest, best, and wisest King,
  On thy head the dust we fling,
  And in sorrow do we sing.
      Our lord is dead!
  _Chorus_.  Our lord is dead!
      Alas! our lord is dead!

  O King! why didst thou thus die?
  Deep in the grave thou must lie,
  While we will for ever cry,
      Our chief is dead!
  O'er him pour libative wine,
  O'er him slay the fattest kine,
  O'er him make the magic sign,
      For our King is dead!
  _Chorus_.  For our King is dead!
      Alas! our King is dead!

When the chant was ended, the body was laid on a long, broad piece of
stiff bark, and four wa-mganga (doctors) carried it to the grave, where
it was laid on the right side, with the King's shield, spears, bow, and
quiver of arrows.  A pot, full of millet-flour, mixed with water was
placed, closely covered, by the head, and the stiff piece of bark, which
served to convey the body to the grave, was placed over the body; then
the plaintain wine was poured over this, the black bulls were brought up
and slaughtered, the blood pouring into the grave; then the earth was
scraped in and stamped close and hard; and, finally, ten potfuls of
pombe were poured over the grave, and the ceremony was over.

Then the elders, the councillors, and the doctors gathered together
under the great tree, and began to discuss the question who should be
King.  A large number proposed that Ferodia should be sent for, as he
was a relative of the King; but the majority, though small, were for
Kalulu, who, not only was nephew of Katalambula, but adopted son, and
the choice of the old King.  Besides, Kalulu was a brave lad, and would
in time be a greater warrior than Ferodia, perhaps greater than
Katalambula, and the equal of Loralamba.  His youth was full of promise,
and he had already won everybody's regard for his amiability and good
heart, said they.  Whereupon the discussion grew fierce; those for
Ferodia threatened to leave Katalambula's tribe and go over to him, and
would return with spear and sword to cut Kalulu's head off.  Finally,
when all this was at its greatest height, and wordy dissension came near
ending in bloodshed, Soltali rose, and, by his eloquence, succeeded in
calming the turbulent and winning over to Kalulu's side several of the
adherents of Ferodia, until there remained but a email, contumacious
minority for the latter.

While the majority waited for the messengers sent to inform Kalulu of
the honour conferred on him, the minority rose and departed out of the
village, muttering threats, and promising to return with Ferodia, who
would punish all with a terrible vengeance.

Kalulu received the deputation, and when told its mission, rose at once
and followed them to Soltali.  This old man--the principal magic doctor
of the tribe--was not only one of the chief councillors, or chief
manyapara--to give the technical Kituta term--but had also had the
honour of having Katalambula for his son-in-law, as the King had taken
his daughter Lamoli for wife, and Moto's wife, Lamoli, was granddaughter
to Soltali.  But, aside from this relationship to Kalulu, the old man
dearly loved the amiable prince, and rejoiced that he was now permitted
to inform Kalulu that he was elected King.

Some of the _dowa_, or uganga (the millet-flour mixed with water, a most
potent medicine or charm), was placed near Soltali, and as Kalulu stood
before them in the now bright moonlight, graceful as a dusky Ganymede,
the magic doctor rose, while the elders and councillors sat around, and,
taking some of the potent medicine in his hand, he touched the boy's
forehead, each cheek, nose, mouth, and chin, crying in a loud voice: "Be
thou King!  Be thou brave!  Be thou strong!  Be thou good!  And let all
thy enemies run before thee!"

In succession each elder rose, dipped his hand in the medicine, and
touched Kalulu's forehead with it, saying, "Be thou King!  Be thou
brave!  Be thou strong!  Be thou good! and let all thy enemies run
before thee!"

Then the warriors were summoned by the drums to the square, and all the
women and children gathered also, and old Soltali, the high priest and
magic doctor, sang to them the new King's good qualities, his birth, his
troubles, his arrival at Katalambula's village, the joy of the old King;
how Kalulu became henceforth as his son to him; and how Katalambula had
solemnly sworn that Kalulu was his choice for his successor to him,
Soltali; what Kalulu had already done towards winning fame; ending with
a solemn injunction to all that they should honour and serve Kalulu as
they had served his father, so that the glory of the Watuta would become
known to all nations, and their bravery be sung in all the corners of
the earth.

N.B.--The author extracts such portions of the chant as he deems most
interesting; but refuses positively to disfigure any more of his
chapters with the uncouth Kituta polysyllables; and refuses,
furthermore, to touch upon such ceremonies as have verse or chorus in
them, however interesting they may be; for he finds his patience sadly
exhausted with being compelled continually to render into barbarous
rhyme words which grate on his sensitive ears:

  The hero and lion chief, Loralamba,
  King of Liemba and the streamy Wemba,
  Lord of all the pasture lands of broad Usango
  From West Urori to far Ukonongo,
  Whom the unnumber'd tribes of Tuta and Sowa,
  From hilly Lobisa to the lake-land Itawa,
  Obey'd without scruple, him who in each campaign
  Had slain his foes by hundreds on each hill and plain,
  When dying, bequeathed his youngest son Mostana
  The lands of Rori from Wiwa to Kantana,
  While to his eldest son, our King, Katalambula,
  He gave all wide Ututa, including Kinyala.
  Our King died heirless, but in Rori's Kwikuru
  His brother Mostana was blest with Kalulu.
  When, years ago, the Arabs fell 'pon Kantana,
  Destroyed Kwikuru, and slew brave Mostana,
  Young Kalulu came, and sought his father's brother,
  And in our King, his uncle, he found a father.
  Ye recall the day when the King this orphan met;
  How on his head our King's infirmed hands were set;
  How fondly he clasp'd the youth to his aged breast.
  And, in endearing accents, bade him there find rest.
  Ye know what delight this boy has since to him been,
  And the King's paternal love ye have also seen.
  Oft have ye heard the King make mention of his name,
  As one born to win a hero's long-enduring fame.
  'Tis needless to rehearse the deeds already done
  By the stout arm of dead Mostana's princely son;
  They are known to all the Watuta tribes around,
  And all our most ambitious youths his praises sound.
  Morula, King of Ubena, fell by his hand,
  So died the false and cruel chief of Bemba land.
  The rebel Bongo, tribal chief on Chuma plain,
  Fell by Kalulu's spear, was by Kalulu slain.
  When the Arab boy sank in the deep waters brown,
  Gripped by the greedy crocodile, and sank deep down,
  Who div'd to rescue him?  Who but young Kalulu?
  Who but the noblest, bravest son of Malungu!
  The King swore to me,--the Mganga Soltali,
  I,--who to him wedded my daughter Lamoli,
  "None shall rule as King over Tuta's Kwikuru
  But brave Mostana's son, my princely Kalulu!"
  Now in council, your priests and elders do maintain
  That o'er the Tuta tribes none may aspire to reign
  Save brave Mostana's son, and the choice of Malungu.
  We now proclaim him King.  Long live King Kalulu!

The warriors gave a great shout, the drums thundered, and all the
warriors, the women, the children, the doctors, the councillors, and
elders cried "Long live King Kalulu!"

When silence prevailed, Kalulu stood up before the people, and while the
body swayed and the hands made gestures, according as his emotions
governed him, the young King might, by a stretch of fancy, have been
taken for a demi-god visiting a favoured people, teaching them the ways
of the wise, and urging them to abandon savage habits.  While all
listened intently and admiringly, the elected chief spoke as follows:--

"Warriors of the Watuta, and ye elders and councillors!  Ye have elected
me King, because I, the son of Mostana, was beloved by Katalambula, and
because he, being heirless, said to Soltali, `Since I have no son,
Kalulu shall reign in my stead, when I am laid in the ground.'
Katalambula has gone to his fathers; he was old, he was weighed down
with the burden of years, and loaded with honours; he is no more; the
cruel earth covers him.  The King is dead, but ye have chosen me to fill
his place.  I am young, I have not seen many moons, and I am not yet a
full warrior.  How, then, shall I fill Katalambula's place?  I will tell
you.  Katalambula was good; he loved the good and hated the wrong.  So
do I love the good and hate wrong.  Katalambula was just.  As
Katalambula was just, so shall I be.  When Katalambula was young, he was
strong, he was brave, he was a lion in war.  When I shall be a full
warrior, I shall be strong, I shall be brave, I shall be a lion in war.
Katalambula was wise.  Ah!  I am young, I am not wise; but I have
Soltali, Katalambula's friend, with me.  I have the same elders, the
councillors, and the magic doctors; their wisdom they will give me when
trouble comes, and by their wisdom shall I be wise.  There is peace in
the land to-day; the Watuta are rich and prosperous.  There is no
sickness amongst the people, neither is there disease in the herds, or
in the flocks.  But the dark days may come, when a strong enemy shall
come upon the land; yet not before Kalulu shall know it.  Sickness may
come; but who can prevent the bad spirits that visit us with baleful
disease and thin our warriors, and make us poor in flocks and herds?
Yet Kalulu shall be ready with his sacrifices and his potent medicine to
soften the hearts of the bad spirits.  It is well.  The Watuta love
Kalulu; they have made him their King.  When the time comes, and
necessity demands, Kalulu will die for the Watuta.  I have spoken."

Having finished his Oration, Kalulu retired from amongst the people, and
went into his own hut, where he found Selim and Abdullah, Simba and
Moto, conversing upon the events of the last two days.

The four rose to receive him courteously, and offered him a clean
ox-hide to sit upon, and began to condole with him upon the loss of the
King who loved him so much.

"Ah! yes, he was a dear, good man.  My going out and coming in he
watched like a lioness her whelps.  He was proud of me, too; for he said
I had the eyes of Loralamba, his father, and carried my head like him.
He often said that I should make the Watuta a great nation, greater than
it was in the time of Loralamba.  He told me, a little before I went
away after the elephants, how to behave myself when I should become
King, and advised me to travel with a great many warriors all around
Ututa, and see for myself how great my country is, and who pay the
tribute and who do not; because, he said, when Kings forget their people
their people forget who is their King, and set up for themselves.  Then
quarrels begin, and war follows, and tribes rise against one another,
and a nation becomes weak.  I mean to follow his advice; and when the
next moon is full, begin the journey.  Say, Selim, how wouldst thou like
it?"

"Oh, Kalulu! thou art King now of all this great nation, thou art rich
and powerful; there is none like unto thee in all the lands of Africa.
Thousands of warriors are ready to do thy bidding; armies of great,
strong, fierce men are under thy feet.  If thou wilt but more that
little tongue of thine, there is war everywhere; men will begin to hate
one another and to lust for each other's blood; Tillages will be
destroyed, and whole tribes shall be known no more.  Thou, who art but a
boy like me, art dreadful in thy sudden power.  But a few days ago,
under the tree where the dead elephant lay, thou didst embrace me, thou
didst say all manner of kind things unto me.  Wilt thou do Selim a
favour, Kalulu?"

"Will I do thee a favour?  Oh, Selim! dost thou think that, because I am
King of the Watuta, I can forget our brotherhood?  Dost thou think that
Kalulu's friendship changes like the antelope, which roameth about for
the sweet grass, now here, now there?  No; Kalulu's friendship is like
the water of a river, always flowing in the same direction, true and
constant.  Ask me anything thou wilt, and I will give it thee!  Dost
thou want a wife?  Take pretty Imamalu, and if she is not enough, take
Koranilu; and if thou wouldst like another, ask for her, and thou shalt
have her.  Dost thou need a gun?  Ask for as many as thou wilt.  What is
it thou wouldst ask?"

"I would ask," answered Selim, "that, now thou art King, thou wilt
permit Abdullah, Simba, and Moto, and myself to depart to our own land."

"Depart!" echoed Kalulu, "and leave me alone!  What has Kalulu done unto
thee or thy friends, that thou wouldst leave him?"

"Nay, my brother--if thou wilt permit me to call thee by that name
still--thou hast done nothing of wrong unto us," replied Selim.  "Thou
hast been too good, if anything.  What should we have done without thy
friendship?  But thou must remember, Kalulu, we left our own land to
trade for ivory and slaves.  We came as far as Urori, intending to go to
Rua, on the other side of Lake Tanganika; but at Ewikuru of Olimali the
caravan was destroyed, our fathers and friends were killed, others were
made slaves along with ourselves.  But we were happy in finding a friend
in thee.  We were released from slavery, and in my master I found a
brother.  But, Kalulu, at Zanzibar, Abdullah and I have mothers, who are
sorrowing for us.  I have a rich estate, and plenty of money waiting for
me; Simba and Moto have wives and children.  If Kalulu permits us to go,
would it be well for us to remain here?"

"Ah! poor Katalambula is dead, he has been but just buried; and now
Selim wants to go away, and leave me.  What evil spirit is this, that
makes me suffer so?  What have I done, that all should leave me?  Why
should I suffer, when all other men are happy?  I wish I were in
Katalambula's place, and he in mine.  Thou wilt not want to go at once,
Selim, wilt thou?  Surely, thou wilt have pity upon me, and remain a few
moons longer; then I myself--though I know I shall die--will take thee
with a thousand warriors to where thou wilt find thyself safe, and among
thy friends."

"Oh, Kalulu, I did not mean to go away at once.  I meant after one moon.
Wilt thou not let me go after one moon, my brother?  Think of my poor
mother, what she must suffer all this time!  It is this that makes me
wish I had the wings of an eagle, to fly to her, and tell her how safe
and happy I have been with thee.  It is this only which could make me
wish to leave thee so soon after thy great loss."

"Then, Selim, let it be as thou wilt.  Kalulu has not the bad heart to
keep a son from a mother; sooner would his own heart burst in his own
body, than my brother should suffer.  Thou hast said thou hadst intended
to have gone to Rua for ivory and slaves.  No need to go so far.  I have
here two hundred of the Arabs' people Ferodia took at Ewikuru.  They
shall be thine, and each man shall be loaded with ivory, one hundred of
which shall be thy portion, and the other hundred for Moto, and Simba,
and Abdullah.  Art thou satisfied?"

"Satisfied!" said Selim, in a wondering tone.--"Satisfied!  I should be
worse than dead clay, if I were not.  Nay, thy kindness must have some
reward; for the same Sky-spirit which has touched thy heart with soft
kindness towards me, has now touched mine: I shall stay two moons with
thee, and I then shall ask thee to let me go.  But thou art so good,
Kalulu; I shall never meet thy like again, when I depart from thee," and
Selim wept grateful tears, as he threw himself upon the neck of the
noble young savage, while Abdullah, in a transport of joy, kissed the
generous chief's feet; nor was Simba or Moto backward in expressing
their admiration of Kalulu's generosity.

They spent many hours together, until late in the night, consulting
about what should be done in the meantime, and how a new amusement
should be furnished for almost every day; after which they retired, each
to his bed to sleep, with their hearts full of peace and love towards
one another.

We will now leave the young King and his friends to their pleasures,
while we note what became of the minority who expressed themselves so
strongly against the election of Katalambula's choice for King, and who
departed before the ceremony of election and appointment began,
muttering threats.

These threats were by no means idle.  They were made by men who had
accompanied Ferodia to Urori, and fought at Kwikuru, and who were
rewarded so handsomely by him during the distribution of cloth.  They
were warriors who paid respect to courage and success, and to them
Ferodia was a hero far more deserving of the chief authority over the
tribe than a boy, who, however promising he might be, had not yet
distinguished himself more than any other boy would have done, placed in
the same position.

Ferodia was a chief, who, were he King, might be able to make each
warrior rich in cloth, in ivory, in slaves, and cattle; while with
Kalulu as King, many years must elapse before he would think of
venturing upon a war unprovoked.

When they left the village, and were safe outside, these feelings found
expression, and, consulting and advising with each other, they were not
long in coming to the conclusion that their interest lay in proceeding
at once to Ferodia's country, a week's march south-west, and acquaint
him with their hopes and desires, and invite him to proclaim himself
King, with the aid of all malcontents, and friends, and to march upon
Kalulu's village and depose the boy-king.  This duty of self-interest
they at once set about executing, by commencing their march for
Ferodia's country.

Within a week they made their appearance before Ferodia's village, and
when they told their errand, they were at once introduced before the
chief, who sat under a tree, similar to the one at Katalambula's,
obsequious and villainous-faced Tifum the Wicked standing by his side.

"Peace be unto ye, my brothers," said Ferodia, rising, and hurrying to
embrace each one in succession, and, as is the custom in Ututa and in
all the lands adjoining Lake Tanganika, rubbing their elbows first, then
their arms, then their shoulders, and then falling on their necks,
slapping them on the back gently with the disengaged right hand,
muttering continually as he rubbed each part, "Wake, wake, wake, waky"--
Health, health, health, and peace.

Finally, after going through the ceremony of greeting, like an assiduous
old diplomat that he was, he asked:

"Whence come ye, my brothers? and what is your purpose?"

The chief of the party of chiefs, who was the spokesman, answered, "Why
should we come thus far, O Ferodia, if it were not to greet thee as King
of all the Watuta?  Katalambula, the great King, is dead.  He is no
more.  There is nothing left of him.  He is in the ground.  The Watuta
tribes have now no leader, no chief, no king; they are like unto the
flocks on the plain, bleating for the shepherd that cannot be found.
They are going astray after one who is not old enough to be their
shepherd.  They have elected the boy Kalulu, who is but a child, and is
not yet a warrior.  He is like unto an infant just weaned, who seeketh
the pap refused him.  Katalambula being dead, Kalulu is drowned in
tears; verily, he has lost his head from sorrow, for he is but a child,
and has lost his friend and father, and knoweth not what to do.
Wherefore, we came unto thee, O Ferodia, to ask thee to be our shepherd,
our leader, our king.  Say, what is thy answer?"

Ferodia answered softly: "The words thou hast spoken are words of truth,
my brother.  Katalambula being dead, the Watuta have lost their leader.
Kalulu, in truth, is but a child--but a child completely spoiled.  Any
of my boy-slaves were fitter to be king of the warlike Watuta than he.
Who is Kalulu?  He is not a matuta, he is not a warrior, he is not the
son of Katalambula, he has not won the right to carry a spear, save as a
burden.  He is a Mrori, the son of Mostana, one of a stranger tribe.
Katalambula being dead, the Watuta have no leader.  But who has a better
right to fill his place than I, Ferodia?  Who won his battles for him,
but I, Ferodia?  Who conquered the Wabona, the Wumarungu, the Wakonongo,
the Wanyamwezi, the Wasowa, the Wakawendi, and the Warimba, but I,
Forodia?  By my fame I have won the right to succeed him who is dead.
By my courage in the field, there is none fitter to take his place.  By
my victories, I have deserved the honour.  Verily, thy words are words
of truth, my brother, and thou makest me glad with thy wise remarks."

"Speak, Ferodia, O chief, when wilt thou that we go and punish Soltali,
and those who have chosen another in thy place?" asked the spokesman of
his visitors.

Whereupon a council was called, to which all the chiefs and all the
great warriors, the doctors, the councillors, even all those who had
authority were invited.

The discussion was lively, and had a newspaper reporter who understood
Kituta polysyllables been there, I doubt not he would have been as much
edified as he would be elsewhere amongst councils.  "How is
Katalambula's village to be taken?  How is Kalulu to be ousted out of
his right?  How are the warriors in the village to be brought to
submission to Ferodia, if they have made Kalulu king?" were the
questions to be answered.

One chief suggested that Ferodia should visit Kalulu, and offer him the
hand of friendship, and in the night rise up and slay; another, that
Kalulu should be invited for a grand elephant hunt: when in the woods
the young King might be easily disposed of; another, that he should be
invited to Ferodia's country, to celebrate his coming to power, when he
could be poisoned by the doctors--in short, all things were suggested to
aid the daring conspirators to deprive Kalulu of his rights.

"Tifum, what dost thou advise?  Thou art cunning as a phizi (hyaena),
chary of thy speech as the flying-cat is of its form, wise as a lord of
an elephant herd, but cruel as the sable leopard; which letteth not go
whatever it seizes upon.  Thou art invaluable to me, O Tifum; therefore
speak, and give thy chief counsel," said Ferodia.

Being commanded to speak, Tifum the Wicked rose and said:

"Words, words!  Who is like unto Forodia in wisdom?  He searches the
heart, and penetrates to the hidden and unspoken thoughts.  Ferodia
knows that Tifum the Wicked can give him counsel, and he forthwith
commands him to speak.  Who is like unto Ferodia in the battle?  He
rages about the war-field, seeking the strong arm and the brave with
whom he may measure his strength.  His feet lift him from point to
point, swift as the swiftest quagga in the forest.  He springs aloft
with his ever-thirsty spear, seeking to drink the blood of the
strongest.  When his voice is heard his foes stand abashed, as if the
roaring lion had come into the fight.  I, Tifum the Wicked, have seen
him oft in the war, and Tifum knows whereof he speaks.  Ferodia the
chief commands Tifum to give him counsel.  My counsel is this, O chief.
Katalambula's village is strong--the warriors are many--the palisade is
lofty and close, and the villages round about are more than can be
counted.  Ferodia's tribe is small and weak; it is like a handful of
sand compared to the sand of all the plain.  Alone, we may not venture
on a war with all the Watuta.  Let us, then, send messengers to the
people of Kinyala, whose chief Katalambula killed, and who are yet
resentful.  To the chiefs of Marungu, and to those of Itawa by the lake.
Let us send good words to Mohilizi and to the band of Wazavila, who
live but a few days' off, and with all these together, and with the aid
of these discontented chiefs of the Meroeni tribe, we may hope to make a
successful war.  The is this: Let Ferodia take with him all the warriors
of his own tribe, and with them proceed to Kalulu, and if he asks why we
have come, say, `We are come to offer thee our congratulations.  Art
thou not our King?  Wherefore we have come to serve thee.'  Then
Ferodia, with one hundred of his best warriors, shall go in unto the
village and make friends with all, and be assiduous to please Kalulu,
while the rest shall remain outside until the tenth night, when the
hillmen from Amboella, the men from the soft pasture lands, the leas,
and the meadows of the lake-land Itawa, when those of the fierce tribe
of the Wazavila, the strong men of Urungu, and the tall men of Mohilizi,
shall have been gathered together--then on the tenth night, while the
warriors of Ferodia shall seize on Kalulu and some upon Soltali and
other elders, some shall come to the gates, and stand there until it is
time for those outside to act; then, when all is ready, let all rush in
and slaughter and kill.  In the morning, when the Watuta shall hear that
Ferodia has conquered, they will be afraid, and will come to him in a
body, as one man, and be faithful to him, as they were to Katalambula.
But Kalulu must die--there can be no peace while he lives; and if it
pleases Ferodia, let it be my task to wring off that young cock's head.
O chief, these are the words of Tifum the Wicked."

"Good, good!" all shouted enthusiastically; and even Ferodia was as loud
as any in his approbation.  The excellent advice of Tifum was acted
upon; and the messengers were at once despatched in all directions, to
rouse the subdued tribes and to enlist all the discontented to rally to
Ferodia's standard, and to bid them all march by way of the great
forest, and by night through the corn-fields as near as possible to
Katalambula's village, and to be outside the village near the morning
after the tenth night.

Ferodia, selecting his warriors, out of which he again selected a chosen
hundred--men of mettle and might, unscrupulous, and quick with their
spears--proceeded the next morning for Katalambula's village, the
Kwikuru of Ututa, while the discontented of the tribe of Meroeni
hastened, by day and by night, to make ready their men for the great and
momentous struggle.  Tifum had with him as bearers several of the
boy-slaves which were captured at Kwikuru of Urori, and who had endured
the fatigues of the march with Selim and Abdullah; and among these was
found the little negro boy Niani, who had so mysteriously disappeared
from our view and our knowledge.  These were not in bonds now; they had
come to be entrusted by their new masters for their docility and
weakness; and Niani had come to be quite a favourite with Tifum, who
recognised the little fellow's shrewdness and deftness of hands.

Ferodia, as he drew near Kwikuru, left the larger number of his
warriors, and all the slaves and servants behind; and, taking with him
only the choice hundred warriors, advanced upon the capital of the
Watuta, and made his appearance before the gates, where, coming in the
guise of friendship to congratulate the new King, he was heartily
received, and admitted to the great square.

Kalulu was disposed at first, when he was informed of Ferodia's arrival,
to be resentful, and his mind was crowded with suspicious thoughts; but
Ferodia's excessive courtesy and amiability, the warmth of his greeting
and congratulations, soon disarmed the mind of the ingenuous youth, and,
as well as he was able, he replied kindly, and tendered the
hospitalities of the village.

To Tifum's greeting Kalulu gave a cold and haughty nod; but Tifum was a
diplomat of the first water, and, as needs must when needs drive, Tifum
excelled Tifum's self in deceptive cordiality and genuflective
graciosities.  He was smiling and chatting now with Kalulu, and anon
with Selim, who he declared had wonderfully improved; that he was now
but a little less handsome and but a little shorter in height than
Kalulu the new King, who was sure, by-and-by, to become a greater King
than his grandfather Loralamba.

He went up also to Simba, who had so bruised his body some time ago, and
so purred and fondled that giant that Simba's repugnance became so
strong that he told him to desist, that Arabs were not accustomed to
carry their greetings with strangers in such a familiar way.  But
nothing could upset Wicked Tifum's equanimity and plans; he roared with
laughter, and slapped his thighs so loudly that Moto began to think
Tifum had lost his mind.

Tifum, however, while Moto made the remark, caught sight of the sweet,
pale face of Abdullah, and at once darted upon him; and, despite
Abdullah's struggles, embraced the lad as if in him Tifum had found a
lost son; but when he released him finally, Abdullah, while his face
blushed crimson at this indignity, slapped Tifum full on the cheek; but
the heroic Tifum did not mind that in the least; he only laughed louder
than ever, though Abdullah thought he detected a fierce blaze of anger
in his eyes.

However, Ferodia and Tifum were inside Kwikuru, and the time intervening
between their entrance into it and the night appointed for the
consummation of their enterprise passed quickly and quietly enough.  On
the tenth morning Tifum communicated to Ferodia the gratifying
intelligence that their friends were in the neighbourhood distributed
among the villages of the tribe of Meroeni, three hours' distance.

The tenth day passed tranquilly, and the night came.  Not a single
breath of suspicion had been uttered, though among themselves Kalulu and
his friends expressed strong misgivings; but this was set down to their
dislike to the ambitious Ferodia, and his cunning, intriguing, cruel
parasite, Tifum the Wicked.  Ah! could Kalulu have but known what
devilish plans were lurking unseen in his village--what plot was
hatching--what evil hung over him, how quickly had he sounded the cry of
alarm, how different would he have acted; how he would have sprung as a
leopard into their midst, and torn the conspirators into pieces!  But
neither Kalulu nor his friends dreamed of anything of all this evil, and
drowsiness stole over their bodies, and gentle, unsuspicious slumber
pressed their eyelids, and stilled their minds into unconsciousness.

Notes.  Loralamba, father of Katalambula and Mostana.

Uwemba, a country bordering Lake Tanganika.

Liemba, the river which sometimes gives its name to a portion of Ututa.

Manyapara is a Kituta term for councillor, wise elder.

Wa-marungu: people of Marungu.

Kwikuru: the capital.

Malungu: sky-spirit.

Wakhokoro: a tribe north of Urori.

Kinyala: a small country south-west of Ututa.

Rufizi: a river.

Zambesi: known as Chambezi.

Mwenni: Lord.

Simbamwenni: Lion lord, or Lion king.

Wagala: people of Ugala.

Wazvila: people of Uzavila--a scattered tribe north of Ututa.

Mtuta: a man of Ututa.

Watuta: the people of Ututa.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

KING KALULU IS A PRISONER--POOR KALULU!--THE MAGIC DOCTOR IS BURNT--
KALULU IS TOLD TO PREPARE FOR DEATH--THE NIGHT FOLLOWING SOLTALI'S
EXECUTION--THE MOUSE ASSISTS THE LIONS--THE END OF TIFUM THE WICKED--IS
THIS MURDER?--NIANI CALLS IT "JUSTICE"--SAFE!  AND FREE!--SELIM PLEADS
TO KALULU--SELIM WANTS KALULU TO GO HOME WITH HIM--SIMBA THE GIANT
PLEADS--THE HEAD OF TIFUM THE WICKED--THEY INTEND GOING TO UJIJI.

About three hours before dawn a body of thirty men, under the leadership
of Ferodia, made their appearance in the square outside of their
sleeping quarters, the garish moonlight revealing them visibly clear.
At the same time an equal number issued from the dark, cavernous doors
of the tembe, and, after a whispered consultation with the first party,
proceeded stealthily across the square to where Soltali lived; while
forty men, dividing themselves into two parties, hastened towards the
gates.  Ferodia, seeing all at their posts, waited a short time, until
he saw numbers of dark forms glide into the square, and until he was
told that the warriors were pouring in by the two gates; he then
proceeded towards the door of Kalulu's hut, and, after taking a quiet
survey of the sleeping forms of Kalulu, Selim, and Abdullah, beckoned to
Tifum and the warriors behind him, and suddenly sprang in with a
piercing cry of triumph upon the prostrate and unconscious young King,
while Tifum sprang upon Selim, and another warrior upon Abdullah.

Warrior after warrior poured in, and in a short time the three boys
found themselves, while yet not quite recovered from their sleep, hound
and helpless prisoners.  In the meantime the war-cry of the Watuta,
sounded first by Ferodia, was caught up by all the warriors in the
square, and was immediately echoed by each new comer, while crowds had
hastened to the hut occupied by Simba and Moto, but only to find these
wary men prepared for a resolute struggle.  Neither Simba nor Moto,
however, had had time to load their guns; they could only club them and
crush each skull as it ventured into the darkened hut; but the roof was
too low for Simba to exert the full power of his strong arm, so that,
finally, numbers prevailed, and Simba and Moto found themselves at last
prisoners, bound hand and foot.

In a short time Ferodia found himself master of the village.  The plan
had been too well devised, too skilfully carried out, to fail.  And each
surprised warrior, when that first dreadful cry awoke him from his
dreamy sleep, only awoke to find himself in the power of foes relentless
and desperate.  Every soul in the village was in the power of Ferodia,
so that he found himself in the morning with over five thousand slaves--
for prisoners of war are always slaves in Central Africa.

The chains found in the store-room of the King, which came formerly from
the Arab camp near Kwikuru, in Urori, were of use now, and into the
strong iron collars attached to them the necks of Kalulu, the two Arab
boys, and the most refractory of the captured warriors, were placed; but
as there were no locks, or they could not be found, the eyes of the
folding iron crescents, which folding together formed the collars, were
simply tied together firmly, while the hands of the captives were
tightly hound behind.  When all were secured with their hands in
inexorable bonds behind their backs, they were marched outside by gangs,
under chiefs, of ten and twenty warriors.  Then the ivory, the cloth,
the guns, the powder and bullets, and everything of value, were brought
forth and distributed amongst the warriors and conveyed outside at a
safe distance from the village.

After all these things had been done the torch was applied to every
tembe, and in an inconceivably short space of time the whole village was
wrapped and encircled by the tongues of destroying flames; the straw,
and the oil and butter found stored in the huts, and the resinous, gummy
substance of the wood which formed the rafters and palisade, adding
intensity to the flames, which were speedily devouring all.

While the village--the scene of so much merrymaking, and fun, and
innocent frolic, scene of the ceremonies, the rejoicings, which have
found place in our history--was thus being ruthlessly destroyed, being
rapidly reduced to black ashes, to be as a thing in our memories alone,
to become only as a tradition for those unborn, the great sun arose as
usual in the east with his usual splendour and grateful benignity to
light the second epoch of misery through which Kalulu, Selim, and
Abdullah passed, and to guide the footsteps of the enslaved King and
Watuta on their way to slavery.

Ah! ye, my young readers, surrounded by a halo of kindness and love, by
the bloom, the brightness, and the happiness of a civilised life, with
which Heaven has favoured you, can ye imagine the deep, indescribable
misery in which the high-spirited young King found himself when he
thoroughly realised the vast change in his condition that one short
night had made in his existence?  Assist me, then, with your
imaginations; describe him to your own satisfaction, with his feelings
all in one wild riot, with his confused senses struggling to picture
himself as not having fallen to this state, endeavouring to draw one ray
of brightness out of the dark gloom which environed him, and say for
him, "God--the good, beneficent, all-seeing God--pity the poor prince
and King!"  And the author shall say, "Amen, and Amen!"

Once cleared of the immediate neighbourhood, the captives were divided.
The Wa-marungu, with their gangs of slaves, chose one road, towards
Ferodia's village; the tribe of Meroeni chose another, with their
slaves; the Wazavila chose another; while Ferodia, with five hundred
warriors driving before them the gangs in which were found those in whom
we have become interested, struck for the forest where Kalulu discovered
Selim.  Ferodia did not trouble the young King nor his friends, nor did
Tifum venture near them; they both satisfied themselves from the rear
that they were safe.

After they had made a wide detour for many days through the forest, and
come to a place where there was no road nor any signs of its being
inhabited, and having completely baffled pursuit had such been ever
made, and when they had made their camp, Ferodia drew near to the gang
where Kalulu and his friends were found.

Kalulu, as he saw his hated enemy approach, ground his teeth in rage,
and foamed at the mouth like one suddenly stricken with madness, while
Ferodia burst into a laugh and teased him to further exhibitions of
fury, saying:

"That is right, my little crow-cock, shake thy wings, fan the air with
them, and utter a lusty crow, that the fish-eagles, whose screams I hear
from yonder swamps, may try and vie with thee.  I have wrung a boastful
cock's head ere this, and Tifum has too.  Hast thou not, Tifum?"

"That have I done, my King!" answered that servile follower, who was
close behind him.

"Thou hearest, Kalulu, what Tifum says;" and, turning to Tifum, he
asked, "Dost thou think, Tifum, thou couldst wring Kalulu's neck for me,
and do it deftly and neatly?"

"Try me, O King, nothing could please me better," answered Tifum, with a
significant glance at Kalulu.

"Kalulu's neck is slender, not much thicker than a grass stalk.  Thou
canst easily do it, I think, if thou wilt bury thy hand in those long,
gay braids of his.  Thou shalt try thy hand on him to-morrow."
Advancing closer to him, he struck the boy in the chest with the butt of
his spear.  "Dost thou hear, boy!"  But he did not retreat quickly
enough, for the lithe form of Kalulu shot out and flung itself against
him, and the boy's teeth were buried in Ferodia's neck, and he had
surely strangled him had not Tifum, lifting his spear, struck him a
mighty blow full on the spinal column, which almost paralysed Kalulu.

"Thou fiend, and leopard's whelp, thou shalt die by torture to-morrow at
break of day; meantime thou shalt see Soltali burning for daring to make
thee King of the Watuta, and while he is burning thou shalt be stretched
until thy limbs crack;" and thus saying, the angry chief strode away,
rubbing his neck and fuming with passion, and gave orders that a fire
should be built near a large tree, and that old Soltali should be
brought forth.

In a few minutes a great fire was sparkling and roaring at the foot of
the central tree in the camp, and old Soltali was brought forth before
Ferodia.

"False mganga, seest thou you tree and that fire?" asked Ferodia.

"I see it, Ferodia," answered the old man.

"There shalt thou burn, and thy accursed ashes shall remain there to
blacken and curse that tree, under which perished a false magician.  Ho,
Tifum! quick.  Bring Kalulu here first, stretch him on this ground, with
his face turned towards the magician, and let us see if Soltali's black
art will save Kalulu from the pain he suffers, or himself from the
fire."

Kalulu was at once brought forth, and though he bit, and struggled, and
kicked, he was pressed to the ground by overwhelming numbers, and four
men tied cords to his limbs and began to draw them, until it seemed as
if the young body would be torn asunder; after which the cords were
fastened round pegs driven deep into the ground.

Then the brutish Ferodia used the staff of his spear on his body, and,
taunting him, bade him look up and see the false mganga, who had made
him King, burning in the fire.

The gang to which Selim, Abdullah, Simba, and Moto were chained was
brought up and huddled together close to Kalulu.  Soltali was dragged to
the fire, and was tied to the tree; and the fire was pushed close to his
feet, and new wood piled on it, and the smoke began to rise, and
presently changed into flame.

Then Soltali, finding the flames begin to scorch and burn him, raised
his right hand and shouted out with all the strength of his feeble
voice, saying:

"Hearken, thou Ferodia, and ye savage Watuta.  Ye think to triumph now,
and make Ferodia king; but the will of the Sky-spirit must be done.
Soltali had not made Kalulu king had it not been his will; Soltali
obeyed but the voice of the Sky-spirit.  Thou hast triumphed only for a
time, Ferodia.  Kalulu shall be king, must be king.  Thou shalt see a
bitter end, O Ferodia, to which my sufferings may not be compared; and
thou, Tifum, shalt have thy head taken from off thy body, and the kite
and the vulture shall pick out thine eyes.  Moshono, who was burnt by
the Wa-marungu, calls to Soltali.  Soltali goes before thee, Tifum; and
thou shalt follow me, O Ferodia.  I come, great Moshono, I come.
Mosh--"

Before he could utter the last word Soltali's aged head fell upon his
breast, while still the flames leaped up and embraced him with their
fiery arms, until, finally, the green bark cords which bound him
shrivelled up and snapped beneath the weight of the superincumbent mass,
and Soltali's body fell forward, while the sparks were shot up and the
flames blazed anew.  The warriors hastened to pile up wood, but Selim
and Abdullah turned their faces away, unable to bear the horrid scene.

Ferodia turned to Kalulu and said, "To-morrow thou shalt die, as sure as
Soltali has died.  To-night lie where thou art, and when the sun rises
be thou prepared to follow him.  Tifum shall try his hand on thee."

"Ah, Ferodia, thou hast heard the voice of the good Soltali.  The
Sky-spirit has said I shall be king.  Look to thyself, for I shall kill
thee yet.  Thou robber, cutthroat, and coward, dost thou hear me?" cried
Kalulu.

"Talk away, and crow, my little cockling.  Talk as long as thou canst,
if it give thee any comfort.  Nay, thou mayst burst thyself with talking
if thereby thou wilt ease thyself, but to-morrow Tifum shall cut thy
head off, and I will get strong medicine out of it.  I have said it."

So saying Ferodia walked away, but Tifum could not refrain from going up
to Kalulu.  He encircled his neck with his hand, and, giving it a gentle
pressure, said:

"Ah, Kalulu, to-morrow my knife shall sever that head of thine from thy
body.  The pain will soon be over, for Tifum's knife is sharp, and I
will sharpen it still more, Kalulu, to-night, so that thou mayst suffer
but little pain.  Am I not good, Kalulu?  I shall boil those cheeks of
thine with my porridge, and think as I eat them how often they were
patted by the silly old King Katalambula.  Sleep in peace to-night,
Kalulu.  Sleep well, for it will be thy last night's sleep.  Farewell!"

"Stay, Tifum Byah, stay one moment," cried Kalulu gently, as if he
dearly loved the wretch.  "Didst thou hear Soltali's words?"

"Ay, certainly I did.  Am I deaf?" asked Tifum.

"Dost thou not fear the fate Soltali promised thee?" asked Kalulu, with
mock earnestness.

"I fear a mad old man's ravings!  Tifum the Wicked fear what Soltali
said!  Bah, bah; sleep, Kalulu, go to sleep."

"But stay one moment and hear me.  Kalulu shall be King over the Watuta,
and he will take thy head off surely, and give it to the Kituta dogs.
Come here and bend thy head, closer, I wish to tell thee something,"
said Kalulu, as he nodded with his head.  "There, so!  How dost thou
like--" but that moment Kalulu buried his sharp teeth in Tifum's cheeks,
and held on with the tenacity of a bull-dog, while Tifum, uttering a
shrill cry of pain, could only release himself by clutching the boy's
neck and strangling him to unconsciousness.  Tifum's face bore a
frightful wound, for the teeth, filed into a point in front, according
to the customs of the Ututa, had bitten a piece clean out, leaving the
cheek-bone exposed, which quite spoiled what beauty he had for ever.

As he felt the havoc made in his cheek the man uttered a frightful howl,
and seized a spear-staff and began to belabour the unconscious boy.  He
probably would have beaten him to death had not Ferodia appeared and
ordered him to desist, and to reserve his revenge for the morrow, when
he might take it in full.

It was difficult to restrain the infuriated man, while his whole head
tingled with the most exquisite pain; but then Ferodia was King, and a
King's commands must be obeyed even though his whole body ached, and he
at last turned away moaning over his wound.

Soltali, the Mganga, was more feared when dead than when alive, it
seemed, for while his body was being rapidly consumed the people had
begun to move their camp a few yards off, none daring to erect his hut
near the awful ashes of the magician, and as night came, with its sombre
shades filling the whole forest with almost palpable darkness, and
thick, dark, formless shadows, it was noticeable that they still further
retreated from the death tree, and whispered to each other their belief
that Soltali's spirit was in the tree, with great angry eyes of fire,
looking down at the camp.  Thus the mortal ashes of the old doctor, whom
they had so cruelly murdered, were left alone by the superstitious
people, and Kalulu, helplessly stretched near by, was the only living
being within fifty yards of the dread embers which covered the remains
of Soltali.

Tifum the Wicked, too much engrossed with the pain of his wound, had
seen nothing of this movement, for he had retired to his hut, with his
head close to the door to breathe the cool air of the night.  In his hut
were the spoils from Katalambula's village, which his own particular
slaves had carried for him.  Among these were two bales of cloth, ten
fine ivory tusks, a keg of powder, a bag of bullets, three or four guns,
and, singular as it might seem, was Selim's gun, the Joe Manton which
Sheikh Amer had purchased for his son, through his Bombay agent.  This
accident may be attributed to Tifum's cupidity, who had appropriated
this gun as his own, on seeing that it was of a superior class to all
others, as well as the belt, which contained a large supply of
ammunition.  Ferodia would very probably have appropriated such a fine
weapon for himself had he not been so occupied with the extent of his
success and fortune.

The night grew deeper and more sombre.  Melancholy sounds were heard at
intervals through the forest, and the superstitious warriors ascribed
these to the restlessness of the spirit of Soltali, consequently they
huddled into their huts, forgot the cravings of their stomachs, and
sought in the cosy warm huts a temporary oblivion from their fears and
superstitious troubles, and, as the night got still more aged, even
moaning Tifum became tranquil and slept.

When the camp had become as still as though no five hundred warriors
with strong lungs and a healthy capacity for noise within them slept in
that darkness, Niani's light, active, boyish form, who hitherto has been
unnecessarily neglected, began to move from the neighbourhood of a fire
where, along with other slaves, he had curled himself to rest, but not
to sleep, in the direction of the slave-gang to which his master, Selim,
Abdullah, gigantic Simba, and Moto belonged.  The pale-coloured forms of
the two Arab boys were clearly discernible, and choosing the tallest, he
crept up to him, and gently placing his hand over the mouth of Selim,
whom he rightly judged it to be, he bent his head low down to his ear.

"I am Niani, your slave; be still, master.  I have come to save you, for
I have heard Tifum swear that to-morrow you shall die with Kalulu.
Hush!  I have my knife.  I shall cut your bonds, and those of your
friends, and we shall all go away far."  So saying Niani released his
hand, and with his knife parted the hark rope that fastened the iron
collar, and in a second Selim felt his neck free from the ignominious
chain.

Niani crept to Abdullah, and performed the same kindness for him upon
the express condition that he should lie still until the hint was given
to rise.  From Abdullah Niani crept to Simba, and told that wondering
giant who he was, and why he was there.  Simba understood at once, and
slightly turned over that Niani might cut the bonds which confined his
hands behind his back, and raised his head that he might be released
from the collar.  Moto's turn came next, and in a short time he was also
free.  Each head was now touched, and they at once rose and followed
Niani past the sleeping forms, by the fires, and past the open huts
confidently, but still quietly, until they came behind the fatal tree at
whose base lay the ashes of poor old Soltali.

"Now, Master Selim, speak, what is to be done?" asked little Niani in a
low voice.

"Let Simba and Moto answer; but we must not go without Kalulu, for
rather than go without him I will go back and die with him."

"I don't intend to go either without him," said Abdullah.  "I would
count it a deed worthy of paradise to die with him, and by his side.
Here, give me the knife, I will go and cut his bonds."

"No, no, master," said Simba, "I want to go back for a particular
purpose, besides rescuing Kalulu.  Thou, Moto, stay here, and if any
alarm is made, then do thou run east, and in the morning turn south.
Here, Niani, come with me.  Give me that knife."

They both disappeared on the other side of the tree, and Simba, crawling
on his hands and knees, followed by Niani, made towards where Kalulu lay
stretched in anguish of body and mind.  When he had advanced
sufficiently near, Simba whispered the boy's name with a
warning--"Hush!"

Simba was presently close to Kalulu; and, after informing him of his
purpose, soon freed him from his painful position, and Kalulu sat up,
though feeling almost too sore and cramped to move.

Simba waited patiently for the first feeling of numbness to wear away,
then whispered to him:

"Kalulu, dost thou remember Soltali's words?  Soltali said that Tifum's
head should be taken from off his body.  I am going to take it now.
Wilt thou come?"

The instant these words were suggested all feeling of soreness vanished,
and the boy sprang up and was about to shout his gladness, when the big
hand of Simba was placed over his mouth, and he whispered:

"Nay, not a word, not a breath, as thou dost value our lives.  Our
friends are behind that tree; they are waiting for us.  Thou must obey
me now, if success is what thou dost hope for."

Kalulu clasped his hand, and understood at once what was necessary, and
followed Simba, who was preceded by Niani, without further remark.

When near Tifum Byah's hut Niani, who was as cunning as the nature of
the mammal from whom he derived his name, stopped, and pointed silently
to the hut, which stood alone and removed a good distance from any other
that was inhabited.

Simba turned to Kalulu, and, handing him the knife which he had received
from Niani, whispered to him: "Stay here silent as a dead tree, until
thou dost hear my signal," to which a nod of the head only was given for
reply.

"Now, Tifum the Wicked," whispered the resolute mind of Simba to itself,
"it is either I or thou; I think thou.  Selim's stripes have to be paid
for with thy blood; if not Selim's, then Kalulu's wrongs.  But how can I
ever pay thee for all?  Sheikh Amer, my master; poor Isa; little
Mussoud;" and the busy mind fanned itself into a white heat of anger,
and churned the deep hate into a white foam of fury; and the Nemesis, in
the form of this mighty, big-muscled man, stood over him, Tifum the
Wicked.  The great form bent, and suddenly drooped, with two great bony,
sinewy hands clutching the sleeping man's throat, crushing, compressing
bone, gristle, sinew, and vein into a soft, yielding, pulpy mass, until
there was no breath of life nor power of motion left in him.

All had been done so quietly--the deed of stern vengeance so quickly,
coolly executed, that Kalulu started with surprise as he heard the
signal; he could hardly believe it to have been consummated, yet he
advanced determinedly, as if his help was to be needed.  Think of Simba
needing help for such an ordinary creature as Tifum.

"Cut it off!" said Simba, and Kalulu, nothing loth, bent down and
severed the head off without one remorseful pang, and the body of Tifum
was headless; and the prediction of Soltali had become thus soon
verified.

Simba and Kalulu were about to move off, when Niani stepped up and
whispered:

"The guns in his hut!"

"Ah, true," and Simba turned round and gave Niani a couple of guns, to
Kalulu he gave one, he reserved one for himself, then went into the hut,
found the powder bag, the load of bullets and ammunition; snatched a
bow, a quiver full of arrows, a couple of spears, and a long Arab sword,
which Tifum had also appropriated, and with the booty, too valuable to
be measured at a money value for such an expedition as he now proposed
to himself, he withdrew as silently as he had come.

Once at the tree the guns were distributed, one to Abdullah, one to
Moto, the "Joe Manton" to Selim, who hugged it to his heart, while Simba
retained another.  To Kalulu he gave a spear with the bow, and a quiver
full of arrows.  Niani got another spear, while he also received the
precious powder-keg to carry.  Simba carried the bullets and sword.
Kalulu still carried the ghastly load, but nothing was said to any of
the others of the deed that was done.  Simba merely said "Come," and the
five followed him obediently.

"Four hours more of night till dawn," said Simba, after they had got a
little distance off.  "We must march south.  Come."

In a hard, dry, trackless forest, when once a fugitive escapes it
becomes impossible to find him.  Had Kalulu not taken the precaution to
strip himself of his cloth, and place the head of Tifum in it, it is
probable that the fugitives might have been pursued; but there was no
clue to the direction they had taken, for five hundred warriors had
trodden the ground all around while hunting for fruit, or sticks, or
water for cooking, the day before, even if the hard drouthy ground might
have received the impression of a few men's naked feet.  And the natural
questions the warriors would ask themselves and each other in the
morning would be, "Which way have they gone?  Is it north, south, east,
or west? or any other of the lesser or intermediate points?" to which,
of course, no definite answer could be given; while the more
superstitious would say, "Ah! it is Soltali who has taken them away!"
and would fear to leave their fellows.

Simba, Moto, and Kalulu knew this, and though they journeyed fast, they
journeyed confidently.  But, as each of the party was busy with his own
thoughts, no words were exchanged until it was grey morning, and day had
more power to pierce the gloom of the forest than the old moon, which
but faintly showed them their way before morning, when Selim saw some
mysterious bundle in Kalulu's hand, and asked him what it was.

"Don't ask now, Selim, my brother, we must march," said Kalulu, and
nothing more was said until at nine o'clock they stopped at a swamp to
refresh themselves with water, when Kalulu setting down his bundle to
drink, the cloth fell off one side, and exposed the head of a man.

"Allah!" ejaculated Selim, profoundly astonished; "what is this?" and
Abdullah also cried out in astonishment the same words.

"What should it be, my brothers, but the head of Tifum the Wicked?"
asked Kalulu.

"But this is murder, is it not?" asked Selim, aghast at the unsightly
and livid head.

"Murder!" echoed Simba; "I think not, young master.  It may be with thy
people, but with Kalulu cut off his head.  Was Tifum not going to cut
off Kalulu's head?--and perhaps thine, for he hated thee enough, Allah
knows."

"Yes," said Niani, "I heard Tifum swear he would do it."

"Well, but he did not do it, and I am sorry, Simba, thou hast thus
needlessly taken life," said Selim, with difficulty repressing a
shudder.

"Selim, son of Amer, permit Simba, the Mrundi, to ask thee if thou hast
already forgotten thy dead father, thy kinsmen, thine own miseries?
Say, where is Isa?  Where is little Mussoud?  How was Abdullah treated?
What became of Kalulu, thy friend?  Where is Soltali?  What has become
of the village of Katalambula?  I tell thee, young master, that if an
Arab boy can so soon forget these, I, a Mrundi, cannot; and were Tifum
the Wicked possessed of a thousand lives, I would take a life of his at
every opportunity.  What sayest thou, Moto, my friend?  Have I not said
well?"

"Quite right, my brother Simba, I should have done the same; and I am
only sorry it fell to thy lot to take his life, because I should like to
have taken it myself," answered Moto promptly.

"What sayest thou, Kalulu?" asked Simba of the young chief.

"Here is my answer," answered Kalulu, pointing to the head, which he
picked up and tossed into the air, smiling as the head fell on its nose.

"What sayest thou, Abdullah? thou who art an Arab, and the son of an
Arab?" asked Simba.

"The Kuran says: `_And if thy enemy depart not from thee, and offer thee
peace, and restrain his hand from warring against thee, take him and
hill him wheresoever thou dost find him, for over him God has granted
the true believer a manifest power_' Since the prophet Mohammed (blessed
be his name) speaks on thy side, Simba, far be it from Abdullah, son of
Sheikh Mohammed, to say thou hast done wrong in this fearful thing.  I
think thou hast done right," answered Abdullah gravely.

"Then, if the Kuran says so, I, Selim, son of Amer, am convinced thou
hast done right," said Selim, as he hastened up, and, with an apologetic
look, begged Simba's pardon.

"I, Niani, the mtuma (slave) of Selim, the son of Amer, do pronounce
that Simba did right," cried the little negro, with an assurance which
made all smile, and for a moment forget their previous mood.

"But what art thou going to do with the head, Keklu?" asked Selim.

"I am going to take medicine from it," replied Kalulu, "to make my arm
strong against Ferodia, when we get to the camp," folding it up in the
cloth again as he spoke.

"Ah, don't, Kalulu, for my sake," pleaded Selim with earnest eyes;
"don't, it is bad; only the lowest and most degraded do that.  Cast the
ugly thing away, and let it be food for the fowls of the air and the
beasts of prey."

"It has been the custom of the Watuta to do such things, and if I do not
do it Kalulu will never be king," replied the young chief, resolutely
moving forward.

"It has been the custom of the Warundi too, and of all the tribes around
here that I have met," said Simba.  "Let Kalulu do as he will with it,
young master."

"But thou art a Moslem, Simba; thou art not a Mrundi infidel now;" urged
Selim, whose feelings revolted at such a degraded idea.

"Ay, I am a Moslem in name, but a Mrundi in heart, master; and when I
think of all that Tifum the Wicked has done, and would have done, I
myself should like to take medicine from it," replied Simba, with a
vengeful look.

"But Simba," said Abdullah, "the Kuran says we `_are forbidden to eat
that which dieth of itself, and blood, and swine's flesh, and that on
which the name of any beside God hath been invoked, and that which hath
been strangled_.'"

"Al Forkan" (the Kuran) "is a holy book, Simba, that may not be
disregarded, and he that turneth his back to it shall surely perish,"
added Selim.

"I am not going to eat Tifum's head; the Warundi do not eat men.  They
only take medicine from them; but if the good book says it is wicked, I
give you my word I shall not do it," responded Simba.  "But let us
march, we have no time to talk," and setting the example, by vigorous
strides, he induced the little party to strain themselves to keep up
with him; and from this time until sunset there were few words
exchanged, except a remark now and then upon some exceptional feature of
the forest through which they were travelling.

At sunset the fugitives were obliged to halt, and seeing a dense jungle
clump before them, they sought an opening which led to it, which they
presently discovered, narrow and a little inconvenient, but it led them
into a delicious and secure resting-place.  The camp, which they now
intended to make, was surrounded by an impenetrable hedge, about fifty
feet thick and about twelve feet high, of thorn and cactus, aloetic
plants, convolvuli, all-interlacing, embracing, twining round each
other, each leaf, or twig, or branch armed at all points with a myriad
thorns, through which a boa-constrictor might in vain attempt to pass, a
man never, were he armed in triple steel, least of all a rude savage;
while inside was soft, green, silken grass, and a small circular
depression in its centre like a "buffalo-wallow," which contained water.
Could anything have been more tempting than this?  Surely not.  Had the
most cunning Moto devised the best protection he could, he had never
conceived anything more formidable against naked man or beast!  And the
two Arab boys laughed merrily, and rubbed their hands together, as they
thought how secure they were.

Simba, who had assumed the leadership, as though leadership was an
everyday thing to him, looking around, said:

"We are safe.  No Watuta can find us here, but we are short of food, and
boys become hungry soon.  In the morning we must look for food, as we
journey south.  What dost thou think, Moto? is this forest likely to
last much longer?"

"I know not, friend Simba.  I should think not; but the minute it
becomes thinner and more open we shall see game," replied that clever
woodsman, with so much confidence that Selim, Abdullah, and Niani began
to smack their lips, as if they already tasted the luscious, juicy meat
of fat game.

"Simba, I know this forest well," cried Kalulu; "but before I say
anything about it, I must know where thou dost intend to go."

"Ah! where?" asked Simba, looking at Moto, and speaking in a tone which
was more of a doleful echo than a question.

"Where?" said Moto, in the same tone, looking at Simba.

"I must know," said Kalulu.  "We are far from pursuit now.  Ferodia
might as well look for the honey-bird, hiding his head in a hole, as
look for us.  Speak, Simba and Moto, where do ye both intend to go?"

"Answer thou, young chief," replied Simba and Moto, together.

"I?  Well, let it be so," he answered.  "I mean to return towards the
east, through the forest, and then turn up north and west, and seek out
every man left of my tribe, and make war against Ferodia.  Make war on
the traitorous thief, until every man that lifted spear in his cause
shall be even as this carrion is," (pointing to the chilled head of
Tifum).  "War, until all my enemies shall fall, and be utterly destroyed
as the dry grass of the summer is destroyed by a fire.  That is what I
intend beginning to do at sunrise to-morrow;" and as the young chief
said the last few words he sprang to his feet, and dashed his spear deep
into the now unoffending head of Tifum the Wicked, and his whole body
quivered with the fury that animated him.

While he was thus imagining that he had already his enemies low at his
feet, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and as he turned his head
around he saw the gentle, winning face of Selim turned up to him with
pleading eyes, and heard him say:

"Kalulu, thou art still the King of the Watuta to us; sit down quiet by
my side, like, my brother Abdullah and little Niani here, and listen to
what thy brother Selim has to say."

The friendship he entertained for Selim came to the aid of the Arab boy,
and this, together with the kindly tones and sympathising eyes turned
towards him, completely subdued him, and he sat down, and for the first
time, to our knowledge, Kalulu wept.  Selim's tender heart could not
bear the proud young chief's tears, and he also wept out of sheer
sympathy.

"Kalulu," said Selim, when he had conquered this feeling, and could
command firmness of voice, "when I was dying of hunger in the forest
thou didst come to my aid, and, pitying me, a friendship grew in thy
heart towards me, and when I opened mine eyes, and saw thy large black
eyes rest on me with so much pity, so much love in them for me, who
until then was as one doomed to die a lingering death, was as an outcast
from Nature, I learned to love thee as my brother.  The blood ceremony
was made, and I gladly became a brother to thee.  When I was in the
village, and I felt Tifum's heavy hand on me, with the cruel order of
Ferodia ringing in my ears, thou didst again come like a good angel to
my aid; and in my heart I blessed God and thee.  When Abdullah struggled
in the dark waters, and the greedy crocodile snapped him by the leg, and
drew him down out of sight, down into the depths, I cried out in my
agony, `Oh, save him!' and thou, ever our good angel, didst leap into
the depths, and far out of sight thou didst grapple with the monster,
and in a short time didst bring him--Abdullah--back to life and to his
friend.  When thou wert made king, and thou hadst power of life and
death over an immense multitude of warriors given unto thee, I did ask
thee for permission to go to my own home at Zanzibar, to lift the veil
of sorrow from my mother's eyes, and thou didst promise to give me
wealth, and abundance, and men under thine own command to protect me on
the way.  But evil days came.  Ferodia, like a thief in the night, came
with a great number of men; they took thy power from thee, made thyself,
and ourselves, and thy people prisoners and slaves.  They bound thee,
and made thee--a king--also a slave; and until last night thou wert in
bonds, and yesterday thou wert beaten like the meanest, and to-day's sun
was to rise on thy corpse.  But Niani--good Niani, whom I believed to be
created only for mischief and fun--rose in the night, and delivered us
all from the power of Ferodia; and we are all here safe from our
enemies, and free once more.  Allah be praised for ever!"

Kalulu was sobbing violently, and Selim, when he heard his sobs, could
hardly refrain from joining him, but, conquering the feeling with an
effort, he continued:

"Kalulu, my brother, it is but a little thing that I am going to ask of
thee, yet if thou wilt but grant it me, thou wilt make Selim happy--ay,
happier even than when thou didst whisper the sweet words in my
ear--`Thou art free!  Thou art my brother!'  I fear to ask it of thee,
lest thou wouldst hurt me with a refusal."

"Speak, Selim; what can Kalulu do for thee?  Have I not told thee long
ago thou hast but to command me.  Yet what have I to give thee?  Was not
Kalulu a slave yesterday?  Ha! ha! what has a slave to give?" and the
young chief laughed bitterly.

"Thou hast more to give me than ever thou didst possess, Kalulu.  Wilt
thou promise it me what I shall ask."

"Thou art but mocking me; but I give thee my promise, and a promise is
not broken lightly by a Mtuta chief," Kalulu answered.

"Then listen, O my brother!  At Zanzibar I have a beautiful home; and
all around it are trees, great trees, like those in the forest, heavy
with yellow globes of sweetness, called oranges, others borne down with
great fruit larger than the matonga (_Nux vomica_) of the forest, which
are sweeter than honey, and are called mangoes; and there are tall
trees, called palms, which bear nuts large as thy head, full of milky
wine, so refreshing when thou art thirsty, that thou wilt recall the
time when thy mother suckled thee, and laughed at the greediness of her
bright, baby boy; and there are numbers of others, which give both fruit
to fill a man's spirit with delight, and others to give perfume, which,
when a man inhales it, his senses become suffused with pleasure; and as
for the vegetables which my fields and gardens furnish, there is nothing
in all ututa, or the lands adjoining, to compare with them.  There are
squashes, and pumpkins, and melons, blue and purple egg-plants,
cucumbers, chick-peas, and beans, yams, sweet potatoes, white and yellow
tomatoes, and plaintains, and bananas, and numbers of things thou dost
not dream of.  And then my house--ah! there is nothing like it in all
Negro-land; it is as high as the tallest tree, and as large almost as
the great square of thy Tillage, all of white stone; the floors, instead
of being of earth or of sand, are of white stone, smooth and shining as
the stillest, whitest water thou hast ever seen; and the beds are of
down and of finest, whitest cloth, which when thou dost rest thy body
upon them will cause thee to sleep and forget all troubles; and from the
upper doors, which we call windows in Arab land, thine eyes rest upon
the great blue sea, and the laughing wares, which murmur of love, and
beauty, and pleasure all the day.  It is to this beautiful home I invite
thee, my brother.  It is to these scenes of holy love, and God's beauty,
which He has given to me, that I wish to take thee; and to my dear
mother, who will be to thee as she is to me; who will love thee for what
thou hast done for her child, as she loves her own son; to my beautiful
mother, whose face is as white as yon white cloud, and as beautiful as
the moon, I wish thee to come.  Say, Kalulu, wilt thou come, and share
my sweet mother's love with me?  Say, wilt thou come, and let me show
thee the wonders of Zanzibar?"

Kalulu answered not; he never ceased sobbing while Selim spoke; he
seemed loth to give the answer in the affirmative, yet he remembered his
promise, and he remembered it was Selim who was asking him a favour.  A
few seconds, therefore, passed in this silence; but when it was finally
broken it was by Simba's deep voice, who said:

"Those are wise words, young chief, that Master Selim has spoken.
Neither Moto nor I could have thought of them; but the boy's heart has
spoken wiser words than Simba and Moto's heads together could have
spoken.  Young chief, thou shalt yet be King of Ututa; but it will be
better first that thou goest to Zanzibar, where thine eyes may see
strange things, and thy head learn wisdom.  I, Simba, a servant of
Selim, could not have invited thee to Zanzibar, because Simba has but a
very little hut, not bigger than a camp-cote, where the hunter has to
coil himself up like a serpent.  My hut would then have been no place
for the King of the Watuta; but Master Selim has got a big house, bigger
than any king's house in Negro-land; he has numbers of servants, cattle,
goats, donkeys, gardens, fields, and fruit-trees, and his riches are
beyond my knowledge.  Oh!  I see light and hope now, young chief.  I
know what is best for all of us.  I know how thou, by going to Zanzibar,
may come to Ututa a greater king than Loralamba even.  I'll tell thee
how.  Through the aid of Selim thou wilt become acquainted with numbers
of rich Arabs, whom thou wilt like when thou wilt know them better.
They are good men at heart, though some are bad, as there are bad men
everywhere.  This acquaintance will benefit thee and them, for after
thou shalt have rested a year or two at Zanzibar, thou wilt be able to
induce them to come with thee to thine own country, when for their aid
to set thee in thy rights, thou wilt be able to give them back the Arab
slaves Ferodia took at Kwikuru, and give them ivory in abundance; and
they will make thee rich in cloth and fine things: thou wilt by that
time, through the knowledge of such things obtained at Zanzibar, be able
to judge of what is good, and what is bad; thou wilt be able to build
thy villages strong against every attack of evil men, to conquer
Ferodia, and every tribe round about, to make thy country great, so
there will be none other like unto it; so that thy name and glory be
sung in all the corners of the earth.  To be a great king thou must
teach thyself and learn many things; and this thou canst do by going to
Zanzibar.  I have said it."

Then Kalulu, impulsive youth that he was, sprang up and cried, "Enough,
Selim, thou hadst almost persuaded me; but Simba has conquered me.  I
shall go to Zanzibar, I shall learn how to be a great king, and I shall
come back to Ututa a strong, big man like thou, Simba; then let Ferodia
look to himself.  Let him live upon the fatness of the land.  Let him
enjoy his gains until Kalulu comes back, then by Soltali's ashes, by the
grave of Mostana, by the black ruins of Katalambula's village, I shall
have fullest revenge.  I have spoken."

"Good--good--good," cried all at once, and Selim sprang up and embraced
him, while Simba and Moto took each a hand and shook it eagerly, while
little Niani jumped and hopped about as though he were a real monkey,
whereas he was only a monkey in name, and Abdullah, after Selim released
him, insisted also upon the same right to embrace him, and promised upon
the Kuran to come back with him to Watuta and see him righted.  There
was such joy in the little camp, closed in by that impenetrable jungle
hedge, such as we are certain was never seen before, and never will be
seen there again.

"There is one other little thing I should like to see Kalulu do," said
Selim, smiling, but looking on the ground nevertheless.

"What? anything else for me to do?  Well, I will do it.  Speak," replied
Kalulu, lifting Selim's head up with his hand so that he could see his
face.

"Thou art so good, Kalulu, to promise me so many things before thou
knowest what it is I am going to ask.  Thou knowest that I am very timid
and fearful, and I could not sleep to-night quietly with that ugly head
so near me, and--"

Kalulu rose immediately, and taking hold of the head by the hair, he
tossed it into the middle of the jungle hedge, where, rolling through a
little, it remained fixed in the forks of a thorn-bush situated exactly
in the middle of the hedge, where it was more effectively buried safer
from all living creatures than were it buried ten feet deep in the
earth.

"Good--good," cried Abdullah and Selim, really more rejoiced and feeling
safer from Tifum than they liked to confess.

"Now," said Simba, when each person's feelings were calmed, "let us talk
of other matters.  Kalulu, thou knowest this country.  How can we get
away to Zanzibar?"

"But where is Zanzibar?" asked Kalulu, surprised.

"It ought to be east directly from here, just where the sun rises every
morning," answered Simba.

"I can show the way to Urori; but what lies beyond Urori I do not know,"
said Kalulu.

"We are too small a party to be able to go through Uhehe alone," said
Simba.  "That won't do.  What do you suggest, Moto?" he asked of his
friend.

"If I were anywhere on the track of the traders," answered that wise and
cautions old hunter, "I would soon find out.  If I were in Marungu or in
Usowa I could soon tell.  Did I not hear thee say, Kalulu, that there
lay a lake, a large body of water somewhere about here?"

"Yes, Lake Liemba; there is no end to it.  It runs towards the north,"
replied Kalulu.

"Lake Liemba!  Liemba!" said Moto to himself, like one trying to
remember whether he had ever heard the name before.  "I never heard of
Liemba that I know of.  I have been on Lake Tanganika several times in
going from Ujiji to--"

"Ujiji!" said Kalulu, in a surprised tone.  "Ujiji!  I never heard the
Watuta travellers talk about the Tanganika; but I have always heard that
Ujiji was on Liemba, not far from Usowa, but further up."

"Wallahi!" shouted Moto.  "Then Lake Tanganika is only another name for
Lake Liemba, for Ujiji is on Lake Tanganika, and Usowa is only a few
days south of Ujiji.  First after Ujiji there is Kawendi; then we come
to Usowa; and after that is Uwemba--no, not Uwemba--Ufipa; and after
Ufipa, Uwemba; then we always went straight to Marungu."

"If thou canst go from Ujiji to Marungu, then," said Kalulu, "or to
Wemba or Usowa, the road is easy, if thou knowest the road from Ujiji to
Zanzibar."

"Ah! don't I?" answered Moto, in a triumphant tone.  "I will find the
road from Ujiji to Zanzibar.  I have travelled the road five times from
Ujiji to Zanzibar, and I ought to know it.  I have been guide to Sayd
bin Hashid from Unyanyembe to Ujiji; but there is a better and nearer
road to Zanzibar from Fipa to Usowa; then to Ukorongo and Unyanyembe."

"Well, then," said Simba, "what we have got to do is to reach this lake,
whence it is easy to reach Ufipa or Usowa, and from thence to
Unyanyembe, after which it will be easy to get to Zanzibar."

"I know the road to the Lake," said Kalulu, "for I was on the lake some
moons ago.  It ought to lie just where you saw the sun set to-night
about twenty days' march from here.  But between us and this lake is
Ferodia's country.  We should go a week further this way (pointing to
the south), then turn round and go up, slowly towards the lake."

"Ngema--Ngema" (good, good), all cried delighted.

"To-morrow we will continue the journey south, and after a week we will
pick our way toward this lake, and Inshallah! we shall see Zanzibar
within five moons from now," said Simba.

"And to-morrow we shall get food--Inshallah!" said Moto.

"Inshallah, Inshallah!" all the Moslems cried.

They now proceeded to divide their ammunition, the powder and the
bullets for Simba and Moto and Abdullah; while Selim, on inspecting his
cartridge-bag, found a box with a thousand caps and one hundred bullets
for his "Joe Manton."  Kalulu employed himself in examining the string
of his bow; while Niani, seeing everybody else examine his weapon,
thought he might as well follow their example, and began to look at the
blade of his spear in a wise manner, and delighted everybody with the
news that it was sharp.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

MORNING IN THE AFRICAN FOREST--BUFFALO--THE SUCCESSFUL STALKING--PLENTY
OF BEEF--LITTLE NIANI'S STORY--THE END OF NIONI'S STORY--SIMBA ADOPTS
NIANI AS HIS SON--THE TORMENTS OF A JUNGLE--JUNGLE AND PLAIN--THE
JOURNEY AND ITS FATIGUES--THE LION--THE LION DESPOILED OF HIS MANE--A
CORNFIELD--A CHANCE OF ESCAPE.

As the sky began to flush and brighten, and to be suffused with colour
as it heralded the uprising sun, our party of travellers, cosily asleep
in their camp, began to yawn and to stretch their limbs until they were
finally awake, and sat up.

There were no tents to pack, there were no loads to prepare for the
journey; there was nothing for them to do but to shake off the grass and
soft earth on which they had slept from their bodies, leave the camp,
and march.  This they did.

Nothing is so delightful as an African forest at break of day, where
there is no high grass dripping with dew, no cane with its sword leaves
to slash you wet with a showering rain as you pass under, nothing but
the soft brown leaf-mould on the ground into which the feet sink as into
a thick Persian carpet, thus giving you ample opportunities to observe
the beauty of a forest at early morn, without inconvenience or anxiety
on the score of your health.  The forest, with its countless trees, each
loaded with its wealth of leaves and twigs, seems in the first grey
opaque light before sunrise to have been planted, full-grown, and decked
with light green leaves during the chaos of night, as they stand in
their several positions row upon row in numbers untold, all wonderfully
silent and still, awaiting the issue of the morning.  And while they
stand thus apparently labouring under excitement, though outwardly still
as death, in the grey light and opacity through which the trees were
first seen, there suddenly dart myriads of bright sheets of brilliant
whiteness, which soon alternate with some of the hue of pale
gold-and-yellow, and unconsciously the brilliant sheets of colour of
glory have become indistinguishable in the general light of day which
has at last come.  Then, in harmony with the advent of the glorious day,
the trees seem to recover from their astonishment, and their leaves
begin to rustle and whisper to each other their gentle comments on the
great change which the sun has wrought; and from afar, borne by the
breath of the wind to the human ears bent on listening, comes the low
murmur of wakened life, the songs of birds, the fish-eagle's and
paroquet's discordant cries, the hum of busy termites at work, the
murmur of lady-birds, the whir of gadflies and tsetse, the startling
"crick" of crickets; and away, almost at your feet, rushes the
frightened landrail uttering a piercing cry, and above your head flies
the guinea-hens which, unknown to you, had roosted on the tree-bough
just above, with an assumed terror, which provokes your smile; and
presently the hyaena is heard uttering his last farewell howl as he hies
to his den to shun the honest sunlight, and the lion sends his last
farewell roar, filling the forest with its awful sound, and the young
fawns and horned antelope are seen browsing on the sweet fresh grass,
which is decked with many a minute head, and the elands and the kudu,
the sable buck and hartebeest, blue-buck and zebra, are beheld munching
and chewing in the glades with might and main, as if they had a task to
fulfil before the end of some set time, which we may take as a warning
that we have also our appointed work, and must be up and doing.

This beautiful transformation from the gloam of the morning to the full
burst of day was seen and enjoyed by the most poetical of our
travellers, as they marched as rapidly as their waning strength would
permit them after the tireless forms of Simba and Moto.

They had marched an hour, and the whole forest, which to them was a
world, was all aglow with insect life, when Simba suddenly halted, with
his finger pointing towards an open country bounded by hills in the far
distance, and said in a whisper, "Mbogo" (buffalo).

The excitement became general, and the question which first came to each
lip was, "Where are they?" but following the direction towards which
Simba's finger pointed, they were able to discern with difficulty three
or four black specks in a portion of the open country which apparently
was the same Ututa plain which had bounded the forest to the right all
the time.  Simba, Moto, Selim, Abdullah, and Kalulu, at once and
instinctively struck for the open plain, followed by Niani, who, with
his single spear, looked as important as one could well be, and who
seemed to think that all the buffaloes would eventually fall beneath his
hand.

Arriving on the edge of the forest, Simba, in order to make sure of one
of them, separated his forces, each about forty yards from the other,
with instructions to crawl towards the animals and surround them on all
but the windward side; to make no noise, and to wait for a low whistle
to rise up and fire.  After each of them had promised faithfully for the
commonweal to obey such injunctions, which were also impressed on their
minds emphatically by the hunter Moto, the laborious task of working
their way towards the animals began.

Fortunately the wind was from the westward, so they were not compelled
to make any detour to avoid tainting the air, and between the buffaloes
and themselves rose several low hummocks, ancient ant-hills deserted
long ago, and now covered with dense tall yellow grass.  The plain was
also covered with the same tall grass, but at their base grew the young
herbage--signs of the coming spring and rainy season now fast
advancing--which probably was that upon which the buffaloes fed.

To our people it was a serious matter to fail, as their hungering
stomachs could not sustain their bodies much longer in their march,
without replenishment soon; besides, the excitement of the escape from
cruel bondage had vanished, so that it became a vital necessity to
obtain food.  This strong, urgent necessity probably compelled their
caution, and taught each person the art of stalking much sooner than
they had any idea could be learnt before.

Steadily they advanced, crouching close beneath the grass-heads, hiding
behind the numberless hummocks which rose in their front at intervals,
behind the tall mysterious palms whose fan-like leaves kept up an
unceasing rustle, and waving as the breeze swayed them up and down, and
blew them with a startling noise against the tall trunks.

Nearer, step by step, they crawled with bated breath, and crowds of
anxious thoughts running through their heads, lest the slightest error
or alarm might be made by some awkward companion, every now and then
lifting their heads up to note the progress they made, or the position
of the massive and fierce brutes whom they intended to attack.

Kalulu, more experienced than any other, had found his task much lighter
than either Simba or Moto, least of all the Arab boys, his lithe, sinewy
form had penetrated through the grass with the ease of the young
antelope, from which he derived his name, and had found it no difficulty
whatever to stalk the buffaloes; so that, long before his companions had
gained their several positions, he had ventured as near a buffalo bull
as prudence would suggest, and one of his arrows was already resting on
the string which his practised hand would surely send home into the
animal's flanks on the first sound of the signal.

In a few minutes, Simba having kindly waited for his friends, Kalulu
heard the whistle, and as he stood up he took a second's survey of the
field.  Moto was far to the right of Simba, Simba was next to Kalulu,
Abdullah was a few yards behind him, on his left, with his gun pointed
at the same animal he had chosen.  Selim was the furthest on the left,
about thirty or forty yards from a young bull buffalo.  This was taken
in at one glance, and probably Simba and Moto had taken the same
precaution.  The next second Kalulu's bow twanged.  Selim's rifle and
the muskets of Simba and Moto were heard together, and there was
confusion and momentary dismay among the animals, as they heard the
startling reports of the fire-arms.  The lord of the little herd, in
whose side Kalulu's arrow was buried up to the feathers, had already
lowered his head, and was preparing for a charge, when Abdullah's gun
rang out sharp and loud, close behind, it seemed to Kalulu, who
instinctively bent his head, and the formidable bull reeled under the
stroke of the bullet, which was flattened in the centre of his head but
only for a moment; for, after uttering a frightful bellow, he lowered
his head again, and came down, tearing the earth, towards the active
young chief.

Pooh! the brute might as well have charged upon smoke, as upon the young
Mtuta; for a single bound took him to one side, clear out of danger, and
as the buffalo passed by, exposing his flanks, Kalulu drew his bow until
it was almost double, and sent a barbed arrow clean through his heart,
which rolled him over and over in the agonies of death.  Thus Kalulu won
the first prize.

Simba and Moto had been engaged with the same animal, which two bullets
well aimed soon settled for ever.  Selim, on the other hand, had broken
a leg, just at the shoulder, of the buffalo to which he was opposed, and
with his second barrel had sent a shot through the body, which so
sickened the young bull, that he could do no more than roar painfully,
and vomit blood, sure signs of his fast-approaching doom.  Before he
could reload his gun, the buffalo staggered, fell on his knees, and
rolled over, still and dead.

Little Niani had in the meantime been skulking behind a tree, watching
with a critical eye the battle, and now as he saw it terminated he
advanced from his place of security, and gave a shout of triumph, and
made as much noise, as though he, single-handed, had laid the three
buffaloes low; but, for the good deed that he had so lately done, nobody
cared to dispute his assumption, and all laughed merrily as they saw him
dance on the body of Kalulu's bull.  Not for long, however, for human
stomachs were calling for food, and spear-blade, and knife were
therefore set industriously to work to carve out the finest pieces of
beef.  Simba and Moto each carved out a hind-leg of rosy, juicy beef, at
the sight of which the saliva ran out of their mouths like water, and
Niani, as he saw the rich chunks which Kalulu, with the aid of Abdullah,
extracted from his game, almost drowned himself with swallowing his
saliva.

When each was loaded down with beef, the party returned to the forest
again, straight towards the east, for its gloomiest recesses, where they
might remain in security, while they cooked and ate, should any enemies
have heard the reports of their guns.

In about an hour they reached a secure place, a similar clump of jungle
almost to that wherein they had slept so cosily the night before.  A
fire was soon made with the aid of their muskets, by Simba and Moto,
while the boys, under the direction and example of Kalulu, employed
themselves in preparing slender rods, pointed, with which they pierced
small pieces of beef, to plant around the fire for a speedy broil.  In
their great hurry to allay their gnawing hunger, too, they threw several
thin slices into the hottest part of the fire, which no sooner were
warmed than they were extracted again and eaten with a relish and
satisfaction which the poor stomachs alone could have properly described
had they the same power of speech as they had of digestion.

While they were thus eating, a glance at the fire showed a regular
palisade of slender sticks, on which numberless pieces of meat were
impaled, and Simba and Moto having thus satisfactorily arranged the
cooking of the rations, began to make other preparations for the same
purpose on a more extensive scale, while Abdullah and Niani were
detailed to procure wood, and keep up a regular scorching fire, as the
march was to be resumed after noon.  The men selected four sticks with
prongs, which they planted at each corner and outside the
beefy-palisade, and laying two slender poles lengthwise, with their ends
resting in the forks of the upright sticks, and over these poles they
laid shorter sticks crosswise, and apart from each other, which
structure, when completed, had somewhat the appearance of a gridiron.
On this platform were laid long strings of meat, and the object of their
preparations was soon explained to Selim, who in this knowledge
perceived where he had been at fault, when he escaped from Ferodia on
the march to Katalambula's village.

It was really wonderful how much these heroes of ours managed to eat.
The palisade on which the kabobs were roasting, and hissing, and
spluttering, was rapidly disappearing before the voracious attacks of
the gourmands.  Some hand was constantly stretched out to take and
uproot the defences round the fire, and fingers were incessantly
employed in extracting from the sticks the juicy and luscious pieces,
and one mouth or another was continually opened to receive, while the
jaws of all were perpetually grinding meat with their lips emitting a
chorus of "auch," "auch," "tlap," "tlap."  Though there has been an
omission to mention that, over the body of each buffalo, before its
throat was cut, the blessing of God was invoked, it must not be taken
for granted that such pious sons of Islam as Selim and Abdullah were,
could have done such a deed without going through the grateful ceremony
which the Kuran has enjoined on all true believers.  And in the feeling
of plenitude which was at last felt, they found their reward.  My young
readers who have never experienced the pangs of hunger and thirst will
have perhaps some difficulty in comprehending the fierceness of appetite
and voracity which these children of nature exhibited.

About two o'clock in the afternoon, the meat was taken from the
platform, "done brown," and was bound into a light bale of provisions
for each person, with bark rope, and with a perfectly satisfied feeling,
the party sallied out, and continued the journey south.

At sunset they encamped near a pool of water, and after surrounding
themselves with a stout brush fence, they set to work upon some more
meat, with an enjoyment and gusto few can realise outside of those who
have gone through similar experiences.  Jokes were freely made; Simba
uttered his dry, crisp remarks, which set them all laughing.  Then, when
the supper was over, and Moto had taken out from some extraordinary
recess of his loin-cloth a leaf of tobacco, and some lime, and handing a
bit to Simba, who received it with joyful gratitude, and placed it in
his mouth, with a pleasure which lit his face up.  Moto called out to
Niani for a story.  Little Niani was taken aback by this, and blushed as
much as he could blush, for his face seemed to burn, and tingle, as he
felt the high honour conferred on him.  He answered, he did not know how
to tell a story.  But Moto having explained to him that he only wished
to know what had become of him after he left Katalambula's village,
Niani said:

"Oh, it is soon told.  Tifum the Wicked, after we came to Katalambula's,
took me to his own hut, and made me wait on him, fetch water, and light
his pipe for him, and when Ferodia left Katalambula's that night, when
he was angry because Simba and Kalulu would not let him take Master
Selim with him, I was marched off by Tifum.  On the road, Tifum beat me
several times, and once threatened to cut my head off, if I did not
hurry my steps.  I was sorry, and I felt as if I did not care much what
he would do to me, since I was parted from Master Selim, who was always
so good to me.  One of the Arab slaves was caught as he was trying to
run away, and Ferodia ordered him to be killed.  He was thrown on the
ground by six men, and while one man drew his head back by the hair,
another with a knife that was not sharp, began to cut his head off.  The
blood of that poor man spouting up in the faces of the cruel men, while
his body was shaking, and moving about as he tried to breathe, I shall
never forget; and if only for that savage work of Tifum, who stood by
laughing, I think Tifum the Wicked has been served right.  Nothing else
happened on the road, except that every day some poor slave was badly
used, and beaten until he died.  I think that more than twenty people
died on the road.  We got at last to Ferodia's village, which is not
near so big as Katalambula's was, though he has plenty of cows, and
sheep, and goats.  Tifum had four wives, all ugly and cruel, and when
Tifum told them to make use of me, those bad women treated me worse than
he had done; they pulled my hair, pinched my ears and face, slapped me
on the back, made me run after water, to tend their goats, and bring
them back at night.  Indeed, they nearly killed me, while Tifum laughed
as if he enjoyed it.  I then thought it better to be very good, and do
my work quick, which, when Tifum saw, he took me away from them, and
made me work for him only; but he was all the time saying he would cut
my throat some day, and eat me--and he used to open his mouth so wide!
I think I could have jumped down into it, if I tried hard.  I heard him
say often, too, how sorry he was he did not have one of the white
slaves--meaning Master Selim and Master Abdullah--the Pagan dog! for he
thought he could have been much more thought of by his people if he had
one of them.  Then we heard, one day, that Katalambula was dead, and
Kalulu was king, which made Ferodia fearfully angry, and say how he
would chop up into little bits everybody who helped him; and the next
day, after plenty of talk, he took a great number of people with him,
and came towards Katalambula's.  Tifum took me with him, and made me
carry his spears, and bag of rice, and a gourdful of water.  I was
thinking all the time I would tell Simba and Moto what Ferodia was going
to do, if I could only get in; but at the village of the tribe of
Meroeni, Tifum left me behind, by orders of Ferodia, and I knew I could
not help you.  The night it was all to take place I tried again, but I
could not; and in the morning we all left for Katalambula's, only to
find the warriors of Ferodia masters of the village.  You know the rest.
I saw you all slaves, and I came very near crying when I saw it; but I
stopped it, for fear of Tifum.  But all the time I was thinking, and
thinking how I could help you all, but I was afraid.  Then that night in
the forest, after Soltali was burnt, I heard Tifum swear that in the
morning he would cut Kalulu's head off, and, whether Ferodia liked it or
not, he would then cut off Master Selim's head.  I became angry then.
Yes, you may laugh; but my heart was black, and once or twice I looked
at Tifum's knife hungrily, and I thought how I should like to bury it in
his black neck; but no; I waited until after Tifum had eaten his supper,
and I heard him groan in pain, and I thought he would never stop; but he
did at last, and went asleep.  Then I got up, with Tifum's knife in my
hand, and came to you, Master Selim.  And now you know all that Niani
knows."

"_Ngema toto, Toto nwema sana_," (Good child, very good child), cried
Moto; but Simba stretched out his long, strong arm, and laid hold of
Niani and lifted him up, and hugged the little mite--until he was almost
hidden by the great, strong arms--close to his mighty breast, and poured
into his ear such endearing terms that poor little Niani had never heard
before, that made his eyes water after a singular manner, which he could
not very well have explained but that he felt a great big lump in his
throat, which seemed as if it would choke him.

Selim, his son, dear young master, who was so very superior to him, and
all whom he had ever seen, his Master Selim, who had such a beautiful
mamma at Zanzibar--his Master Selim, whom he had seen dressed in gold
and silver raiment, in the beautifullest clothes of blue and red silk,
and whitest linen, Niani saw looking at him with eyes full of kindness,
and a smile on his face,--for which he would have gone through the
hottest fire,--with a look which went straight into him, and kindled
within him a feeling akin to idolatry, and heard the sweetest words
which were ever uttered in his hearing from him.  "Come to me, come near
Selim, Niani;" and the little black waif, who hitherto had been
neglected and allowed to grow wild unnoticed by a single kind human eye,
was clasped by his young master and kissed!

"My own mamma shall thank thee, Niani," said Selim, resting his hand,
upon his head.  "Thou dost remember her, dost thou not, Niani?"

"Ah, when shall I forget her, master, or you?" said Niani; while from
under the half-closed eyes and bowed head rolled the tears in streams
down his cheeks.

"Nay, Niani, thou shalt not say `you' to me more; say `thou,' because
thou art no longer my slave--thou shalt be more; thou shalt be my
friend.  Selim has no slaves around this fire.  Neither Simba nor Moto
are my slaves; they are my friends, and now thou art also one."

"Yes, but Master Selim, Simba and Moto are big, and I am little and bad,
and some day, perhaps, I shall do something wrong, and you will be no
longer my friend."

"And when that day comes," responded Selim, "I shall remember a little
boy who crept through a camp of wicked people in the dead of night,
while all others were afraid of Soltali's ghost, and came and delivered
his master Selim from the sharp knife of Tifum, and the memory of that
deed shall be sure to make me say, `Forgive Niani, for the sake of that
he did to thee.  Forgive him for the life he gave back to thee.'"

"Niani will always try to be good, because he loves his Master Selim,"
the little fellow said.

"So be it," answered his master.

"And I," said Abdullah, "want to be Niani's friend; and he must say
`thou' to me, and when we reach Zanzibar, Niani will find how grateful
an Arab boy can be."

Simba said: "Niani must look upon me as his father from this evening,
because he has neither father nor mother of his own.  Master Selim,
Abdullah, and Moto are his friends; and when Niani is big like me,
Master Selim will give him a wife and garden, and a home, and he will
grow up with plenty of little Nianis around him."

This set them all laughing, and the idea of little Niani having plenty
of other little Nianis, lasted as a good joke until it was time to
sleep.

The fire was allowed to die out; but through the gloom of night in the
dark forest, with the broad, shadowy boughs swaying softly over the
sleepers, the everlasting stars, the southern cross, glittering Orion,
and bright, shining Canopus, searched them out, but they never looked
down from their exalted heights on a camp in Central Africa, where were
purer fellowship, or greater human kindness than that which those
sleeping forms contain within them towards one another.

The march of our party was continued the next day and for six days more
toward the south without having once emerged from the forest.  They saw
plenty of game, and almost every day bagged something for the larder;
but they always kept a surplus of dried meat by as a provision for
exigencies.

On the seventh day after the scenes just detailed above, Kalulu thought
they might now turn west, and after going in that direction for three
days, might slowly point their faces toward the north-west, or alter
their direction towards Lake Liemba, as circumstances permitted.  [See
note at end of this chapter.]

The genial shade and tranquillity of the primeval forest was soon
exchanged after they turned their faces west for the intolerable heat
and vexation of a low, thorny jungle.  Their nostrils became offended
with the fetid rank exhalations of the cactaceous and aloetic plants,
and black gummy bushes, armed with many a horrid thorn, which struggled
with each other for place and air with the wanton luxuriance and
spontaneous growth which belongs to tropical plants.  These loaded the
air with a pungent, acrimonious odour, which set them all coughing, and
when they impatiently rubbed the tormented organs of respiration, they
but added to their discomfort, for their hands had unconsciously rubbed
against some leaves as they passed through, and communicated a burning
sensation to their noses and lips like that which cayenne pepper
provokes.  Long creepers, armed upon all sides with ridges of thorn,
evoked many an impatient word, as at an unlucky moment they stumbled
against these, and were held fast to the great and severe wounding of
the epidermis, and pendulous arms, overhanging the road which they
traversed, caught them fast often with their crooked and sharp thorns by
the skin of the throat, causing severe and painful wounds.  These pains
and penalties, which the jungles of that region impose upon the unlucky
travellers who are compelled to travel through them, were but a few of
the inconveniences and discomforts which our friends suffered.  The
whole ground seemed strewn with the opened kernel of a seed thorn, which
is armed outside with as many straight, sharp thorns as there are quills
in a porcupine's back.  Fancy men with naked feet walking over a ground
strewn with miniature porcupines, and you will agree with me that the
pain and torment would be as great almost as walking over hot embers.
At least such were the opinions of our friends, as they were compelled,
while their faces were wrinkled with pain, to stop every other minute to
extract the vile thorn kernels which had wounded their feet.

Apart from these miseries of the jungle were those which the heated and
cracked earth furnished.  The red, drouthy ground was full of wide and
unsightly seams, rugged rents, which gaped open to receive the
incautious foot, and many a stumble and cry was elicited from the unwary
Arab boys, who, instead of watching against these mischances, permitted
their eyes to rove over the inhospitable scene.

And over all these shone the sun with a true tropic fervour, where,
untempered by the slightest breeze, with no friendly tree intervening
with its thick foliage between their heads and the full power of the
sun, their nude bodies seemed destined to be baked while they yet had
the power of locomotion.  These several things, the heat of the sun, the
hot vapour from the earth surging upward like steam, the prickly bush
and the frequent stumblings, engendered a violent thirst which they all
began to feel, while the perspiration streaming from their bodies added
more and more to its intensity.

Ah! they may well think with regret of the grateful shade which the
luxuriant forest afforded; they may well say that they wished that the
forest had lasted for ever, for it furnished many a pool of clear water,
the freshness of which the pale yellow lotus flowers, languidly resting
on its surface, seemed to enhance.  They may well think of the joyous
chorus which the gorgeously-feathered birds gave out incessantly from
morn until evening; they may well think with regret of all the pleasures
which the primeval woods furnished, which they have now exchanged for
the steamy plain and acrid jungle.  But the road to home and comfort
lies through many a jungle yet, and these inconveniences ye have to
suffer, my friends, if ye ever think to embrace the friends who await ye
at Zanzibar!

At sunset they came to a shallow pool, whose consistence was that of
liquid mud of a chalky colour.  The vicinity showed that it was a
frequent resort for such animals as were benighted in the inhospitable
plain on their way to more northern pasture-grounds, and that its colour
and unsavoury taste had been caused by the thirsty beasts plunging into
its middle in their hurry to assuage the thirst which consumed their
vitals.  But little recked our thirsty heroes for the colour or the
unsavoury taste of the water so long as it relieved in the slightest
degree the pangs which tormented them.

Continuing their journey towards the west the next day, one of the
annoyances which troubled them the day before abated.  The jungle had
disappeared, and in its place stretched a treeless plain before them,
which was covered with tall and bleached grass of the last summer's
growth.  This plain, when they had travelled many hours towards its
centre, and took a survey around, they found to be an oval depression,
as the jungle which they had left in the morning appeared to be on much
higher ground than that on which they now stood, and Kalulu expressed
his opinion that they had begun to descend towards the lake-land of
southern Liemba, in which opinion Simba and Moto concurred.

As they advanced still further to the west, the country began to heave
upward on the horizon, though they seemed to descend into a yet lower
level.  Presently walking became a task of difficulty.  The firm close
ground over which they had travelled, and the dense pasture-grass
changed into a tall sedge which formed tussocks, separated and isolated
from each other, which they had to span with long strides, and which
shook beneath their weight, as they sprang from one tussock to another.

After two hours of this fatiguing work they came to a black spongy ooze,
which appeared firm enough on the surface, but as soon as it felt their
weight it admitted them up to their waists into the depths of the putrid
composition of wet grass and sedgy mould, over the surface of which
trickled many a miniature stream of oily slime.  The sword leaves of the
pubescent reed and sedge slashed and cut their bodies as though razors
had been lightly drawn across them, and the blood streamed down their
chests and limbs.  They presented a miserable spectacle as they finally
emerged from the swampy fen, and felt the firm ground under their feet
once more, for they were spattered all over with clots of black mud,
which, under the sun's heat, were rapidly baked, and formed a filthy
grey encrustation.

But heedless of all this they urged their steps until they had reached
the ridgy horizon, which, ever since morning, had loomed greyishly blue
before them.  As it was night when they had reached this elevation, they
rested here, completely worn out with the dire march of the day, and so
great was their fatigue that they did not pay much heed to the thirst
they otherwise would have suffered from.

Long before day on the third morning they were on the way again, looking
with dismay at the extensive plain which waved and heaved before them
like a sea, and throughout all its prospect promised no amelioration of
the fatigue and pain they had endured the day before.  Away, as far as
the vision could command, the land rose in successive ridges, of a
whitish hue, which they knew to be the result of the dry and parched
grass which clothed them.  It was through such an inhospitable country
the march of the third day westward took them.

On the fourth morning Kalulu chose a broad ridge which ran
north-westerly, and led the way along its spine, whence they obtained
views of all around.  Now and then the travellers dipped into hollows,
but regained rising ground as oft as they could, and towards night they
were gratified by observing dark mountainous masses in the distance,
which they were told would be reached in about twelve hours' march the
next day.

The night of the fifth day verified the prediction of Kalulu, for they
found themselves at the base of a conical hill, near a stream of pure
water, close by a bamboo jungle, whose vivid green leaves afforded a
grateful contrast to the bleached grass, through which daily grew into
greater importance the noisy but clear rivulet, which brawled over
pebbles and gravel bottom to the impetuous stream thundering down rocky
slopes, past granite and basaltic pinnacles, in foamy sheets and curved
round bends, with moan and wail, until it gained the level lea, where it
flowed tranquilly on towards its eternity.  They plunged through leafy
woods, where the sycamore was in its glory and towered aloft in an
enormous globe, acknowledged king of trees; through bamboo jungles,
through park-lands of unusual beauty, by conical hills, and along the
base of ridges of grey rock, defiling through deep ravines, until they
finally came to a verdant champaign dotted here and there with noble
trees, where the swards were as soft as velvet.  And all these days they
had been descending slowly but surely towards the lake they were in
search of, and the vigorous young grass which now gladdened their eyes
informed them that they were not far from it.  They formed their camp,
warmed their last morsel of dried meat, and comforted each other, that
in such a land they need not be long looking for game.

About midnight they were roused from their slumbers by the roar of a
lion, apparently very near them, and Moto said, as soon as he could
collect his faculties:

"What did I tell ye?  I knew such a country as this must be full of
game, and the roar of that beast confirms it, for a lion is never found
except where there is food for him, but, Selim, thou must be ready with
thy rifle, for if the fellow is very hungry he will try to take one of
us."

"I see him," whispered Kalulu.  "There! look at him; do ye not see that
dark form slowly moving past that big tree now?  There! he stops and
looks towards us!"

"Hush!" whispered Simba, "he is coming.  Be ready and sure with thy gun,
young master!"

"Shall I fire now?" asked Selim in a low tone.

"No, no, no," replied Moto.  "Wait until I give the word.  Pooh, young
master, thou must drive thy hall through and through his head.  It will
never do to wound him."

The sound of the pulsations in their bodies might almost have been
heard, as still as the tree stem under whose leafage they were
crouching, they waited the ferocious and powerful thief and prowler who
ranges at will, seeking whom he may devour, throughout the long night in
the game lands of Africa.  Fortunate was it for some of them that he
signalled his presence in the forest with that first loud roar, for had
he but crept to them, unwarning, as he was now doing, what a terrible
confusion he had thrown the panic-stricken people into!  Not a sound was
heard as he neared them.  It was only by the approaching bulk and dark
loom of him they knew he was advancing; but presently he again stopped,
and they heard the soft brushing of the grass, probably made with his
tail, as he twirled and tossed it about wantonly, and through the gloom
they saw two specks of luminous light, shine like miniature lanterns, by
which Selim was able to take aim.  The hand of Moto lightly resting on
the Arab boy's shoulders, warned him and restrained him from firing.

For a moment the lion stood surveying the creatures he knew to be
crouched under the tree.  He then was seen to move to the left, as if he
were about to make a circuit round them, but at every step he took Selim
turned his gun, resting on his knee, at him, completely covering him.
Suddenly he halted and confronted them, and a loud appalling roar broke
on their startled ears, terrible enough in its volume and sound to
unnerve the stoutest, and which caused little Niani and Abdullah to
shrink behind Simba and Moto, who in the meantime had prepared their
guns lest Selim's nerve might fail him at the critical and trying
moment.  The form of the lion, now fearfully plain, came to the earth
with an almost imperceptible downward movement, and each second as it
passed, while he waited for the command, was freighted with keenest
anxiety to Selim.

Kalulu warned Moto that the beast was preparing for a spring.  Then Moto
bade all be ready, and the word "Piga" (fire) was heard, sharp and
peremptory, and the three guns simultaneously belched flame and fire,
lit up the form of the then uprising lion, and a savage cry and dull
heavy thud upon the earth announced to these anxious souls that the
lion's spring was cut short, and that he was either dying or was dead.

They hastily raked the hot embers together, and throwing straw on it,
soon blew it into a bright blaze which threw a light over the late scene
of terror, and showed the lion's form stretched on its right side, with
its left fore-paw, vainly beating the air, and the opened jaws, the
gleaming white teeth, and protruding tongue, and the head almost split
asunder, where two bullets had entered home to the brain, and robbed him
of the cruel life which only endured to rend and devour prey.

"Ah ha, lion! thou greedy beast," cried Niani, hopping about as light as
a young springbok.  "Thou didst think to eat Niani, thou cruel one.
Father Simba, rightly called `lion,' and Master Selim, and friend Moto
have given thee as good as thou didst intend to have given me.  He will
roar no more, will he, chief?" he suddenly asked Kalulu.

"No, little one," responded that more decorous and dignified youth; "he
will haunt the forest no more, nor startle the antelopes with his roar
during the gloom of night.  Thou mayst sleep in peace now, Niani."

"Ay," added Selim, "and dream of the sweet and sugared hulwa
(sweetmeats) and dates of Muscat, and of the pretty jackets with silver
lace on them, he is going to get from me at Zanzibar."

"Yes, and the red fez with the gold tassel which his friend Abdullah
will give him," said that Arab youth.

"And he must not forget the little wife and lots of Nianis he is going
to get by-and-by," added Simba, as he walked forward closer to the dead
Simba, after whom he was named.

"He will do there until morning," said Moto.  "Let us continue our
sleep, or do ye all go to sleep while I watch, because this carrion may
bring others in search of him," which good advice was soon adopted, and
after some little time had passed all, except Moto, had resumed their
slumber.

As the horizon was greying in the east Moto awoke his companions, who
set at once to work to make a fire to warm themselves after the chilly
night-dew.  Kalulu cut off the claws of the lion, which he gave to
Simba, Moto, and Selim, while the fourth paw's claws he offered to
Abdullah, and when refused by him he reserved for himself.

Simba also stripped the splendid furry mane from the lion's neck and cut
it into six equal strips, which he divided amongst his companions, and
then suggested that the journey be continued, and that each should keep
a bright look-out for game.

Within an hour Simba saw a kudu, and leaving his companions alone, he
proceeded after it, and in a few moments the crack of his gun was heard,
and his friends, with infinite satisfaction, said that his shot was
effective, and, running up to him, were just in time to hear him utter
his "Bismillah" (in the name of God), and to see him draw his knife to
sever the throat of the fine animal.

Moto, while the juicy steaks were broiling over red coals, and the jaws
of his companions were already hard at work, proposed that after the
long march they should rest that day and strengthen themselves with
meat; but Simba and Kalulu were for prosecuting the journey until they
should get a sight of the Lake Liemba, and after hearing Kalulu's
reasons Selim concurred in the proposition, though Abdullah and Niani
sided with Moto, pleading their fatigue.

They rested until noon, however, and by this time Niani and Abdullah
felt so strengthened with the meat they had eaten and digested, that
they declared themselves strong enough to march a month longer, which
statement was received with pleasure by all.

The same champaign spread out on either side of them as they continued
their journey, as beautiful as when it first was revealed to them, and
in the far distance they saw herds upon herds of buffalo, giraffe, and
antelope feasting on the rich grass.

Here and there, to vary the monotony, rose a clump of mimosa, or a tall
tamarind, or a silk-cotton tree, or a group of stately palmyra, adding
grace and beauty to the picture, and now and then they passed a low
thicket of brush and thorn.

Above, over their heads, soared the kite and the bustard, the vulture
and the hawk, searching with keen eyes for prey, while the smaller birds
made the groves and the thickets and the lordly trees merry with their
chirping song.

There was such repose and tranquillity, and a feeling of perfect
security in the scene, that the Arab boys wished it would last until it
was replaced by the happier scenes of Zanzibar.  Poor youths! well they
might wish it, after the disagreeabilities of travel they had
encountered in all shapes during their short stay in Africa.  But to
make even this pleasant view one of horror, to transform its peaceful
aspect into one ominous and fatal to them, it needed but fifty warriors
of Ferodia to make their appearance before them, and how quickly were it
all changed, and to make even the jungle and treeless plain a paradise
compared to it!

Kalulu ventured a remark that evening, as they were comfortably
collected around the camp-fire, that he did not think such a beautiful
and rich country could be without inhabitants somewhere in the
neighbourhood.  At least, said he, he had always found it so, and he
thought that on the morrow, or the next day, they must see signs of
cultivation and population, as they must be rapidly nearing the lake.

The next morning, after they had journeyed a few hours, Simba, who was
in advance, cried out that he saw a cornfield, which sent a momentary
feeling of terror into the minds of his younger companions; but,
habituating themselves to the sight of it, they became reassured, as
they remembered that Ferodia must be far away, and that possibly the
people had never heard of a man who had made himself a bugbear to them
by his ferocious disposition and cruel character.

In an hour or so, after skirting the cornfield, they came to a river,
brown and deep, and about twenty yards wide, flowing towards the north,
and while they were hugging the thick tall spear-grass which grew along
the bank, Niani uttered a low cry, and pointed with his finger towards
something that was hidden near the bank.  Kalulu retraced his steps
quickly to observe what had escaped his eyes, and he saw a canoe with
four paddles in it!

He was not long in imparting the tidings, and the party drew together
for a whispered consultation; but Moto advised strongly that they should
not expose themselves, but that they should retreat at once into the
first thicket, a piece of prudent counsel which was acted upon as soon
as intimated.

They found, about two hundred yards away from the object of their
surprise and concern, a suitable place in a dense bush, wherein they
crouched down, after they had posted Niani to observe narrowly from the
entrance for any suspicious object, for a discussion about their future
movements.

"Who do you think these people are, Kalulu?" asked Simba.

The young chief answered that he thought the tribe was that of the
Wa-liemba, and that the canoe belonged to a party of hunters from the
village, who were out looking for game.

Moto then suggested that they should wait until near midnight and get
into the canoe and float down the river.  Simba and Kalulu concurred,
and thought it would be a good thing, and an easy way of reaching the
lake; but Selim and Abdullah strongly demurred to the proposition, as
the act would be one of hostility against a tribe that so far had done
nothing to them, besides being dishonest.  Simba and Moto, however,
aided by Kalulu, brought such powerful arguments to bear against the two
Arab boys that they were silenced.  They were, said they, escaping from
a land where every man's hand was raised against them; where a small
party like their own only invited attack from those who felt themselves
strongest, against whom, however skilful they managed their movements,
they could not expect to be always able to cope successfully.  Prudence
and safety suggested to them this means to avoid trouble and recapture,
and if they did not avail themselves of this happy opportunity, they
might, perhaps, in a few hours, be cursing their squeamishness and
irresolution, while lamenting their fate in bonds more cruel than any
they had undergone while in Ferodia's power.  Before such considerations
Selim and Abdullah submitted to the superior judgment and craft of Moto
and Simba, and said no more, though to each other they regretted that
such a step had to be taken.

Night came, without anything alarming having occurred, and Niani was
called from his watch, and whatever they said among themselves until the
hour of departure was said so low that no one could have heard their
voices even had some straggler by accident been outside the bush.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes.  The real direction in which our people journeyed may be found by
any reader curious enough to wish to know if he will examine the map of
Central Africa as published in the book `How I Found Livingstone,' when
the reader will be able to locate easily the scenes laid here.  He will
find that the countries are laid down with a fidelity which generally
belongs to standard geographical works, that no liberties are taken with
the habits, the customs, or the true ethnology of the great country of
Ututa, or with the geography of Central Africa, neither with the
probabilities of a life in that far region.  The chain of circumstances,
as here portrayed, alone belong to the romantic and the fictitious, and
this fact the author would fain impress upon the minds of his readers.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

DOWN THE RIVER--THE LAKE AT LAST--SELIM DESCRIBES THE LAKE'S BEAUTIES--
KALULU ANSWERS SELIM--KALULU DOES NOT BELIEVE IN SELIM'S SKY-SPIRIT.--
THE JOURNEY ON THE LAKE--SELIM SHOOTS A ZEBRA--SELIM'S FURIOUS RIDE ON A
ZEBRA--SELIM SAFE--THE TEMPEST ON THE LAKE--SLAVES AGAIN.

The time to make a bold stroke towards regaining a country where they
might meet friends came about three hours after darkness had fallen upon
the earth.  No sound had been heard to cause alarm: the bullfrogs
growled inharmoniously among the wild spear-grass; the bull-crocodile
woke the echoes with his hoarse roar; the black ibis had long ago hushed
its harsh screams.  It was surely time to be astir, for at this time of
night peaceful Africans or weak parties seldom venture out of their
villages.

They soon found the canoe, and without exchanging a word the men and
boys cautiously got in, and Simba and Moto, each taking a paddle, drove
the boat out until it reached the flood, and silently dipping their
paddles in the water they guided their boat to the opposite side, and
under the lee of the tall grass and mangrove trees impelled her along
noiselessly.

They came abreast of the village, and they rested on their paddles; they
passed it, and the work was resumed with caution.  Once beyond the
fields, Kalulu and Selim each took a paddle, and the increased muscle
soon sent her swiftly gliding down.  They were now passing through an
uncultivated tract, and Simba exerted his giant strength, and Moto his
sinew and muscle to the work, and the rapid progress they were making
was seen by the swift flight of trees and branches and tall cane by
them.

The stars, in bright galaxies and shiny myriads, lit their course, the
river flow aided them, and the rapid rate at which they went exhilarated
them.  They were probably going down the river at the rate of five miles
an hour, thus paddling with the current; nine hours of such work would
put them out of reach of danger by morning, even should they be pursued;
and provided they paddled on unseen by the natives no trace would be
left behind by them.

This was a happy and expeditious way of travelling towards home, thought
our people.  The longest day's march was nothing compared to the number
of miles that may be travelled down stream, for even should they rest
awhile the friendly current still conveyed them down towards their
destination.  So, blessing your stars, and your fortune, glide on my
heroes, glide down until morning!

The day dawned and revealed their surroundings, prominent hills, all
crowned with tall trees, with slopes descending rapidly to the river's
edge, a straight course before them; the current swifter; sometimes
racing past the rocks with the speed of a rapid, and not a sign of
cultivation about them anywhere.  Cheered by the auspicious outlook they
bent to their paddles with will and vigour.

Beyond the hill-country the river broadened and became sluggish in its
flow; tall matete cane towered above them to the height of bamboo.  This
also was cheering, for except fishermen no tribe cares to live in such a
sickly neighbourhood.  After resting a short time and recruiting their
strength with a breakfast of dried meat, they continued their course.
Low, sandy islands rose in mid-stream, covered with reeds, on which lay,
basking in the morning sun, several crocodiles, who rushed to their
liquid homes at hearing the sound of the paddles, and on seeing the
intruding canoe.  On our friends rowed, past mangroves and groups of
_Eschinomense_, which flung their random roots out in all directions;
past sandy isles and patches of sandbars; through narrow channels, along
which they raced, whither they knew not, whither they cared not, so they
took them to the inland sea they were in search of.

At noon our party halted in the depths of a mangrove swamp, and went to
sleep in the bottom of the canoe.  In the dark night they woke
thoroughly refreshed, and tasked their powers of digestion with some
more beef, and then paddled out to the stream once more.  Another night
was passed under the beamy stars and dark-blue sky, while mild breezes
bathed their hot brows, and tall cane gently nodded their heads as a
token of farewell, and the leaves sighed their regrets at the evanishing
canoe.  The water broke in wavelets against her side, and formed a foamy
wake behind.  The bull-crocodile sonorously roared, and the bull hippo,
at his banquet of tiger grass, uttered his deep base bellow, which
strange noises the startled night caught up and pealed across the swampy
fens and morasses, rousing the indignant and protesting frogs.  Still
silent sat the rowers, uttering no words, speechless as shadows; while
the canoe cleft the murky-faced river, glided swiftly under the nodding
reeds and sombrous mangrove, and halted not for frog or crocodile.

And morning came; and as the rising sun began to drive the mist of night
away--lo! the lake at last!  Liemba's lake!  And the hitherto speechless
rowers burst into a triumphant shout and an enraptured "Ah!" as they
thought the goal was won.

Let each reader fancy to himself the expanding view of the silver grey
waters of the lake; its miniature waves lifting their snowy crests as
they felt the force of the gentle gale; the sun reflected a thousand
times as, rising above the eastern horizon, it slanted over the heads of
the joyous rowers and mirrored itself in the tiny waves and troughs.  On
the left, the lake-shore studded with many a hummock cone and blue hill,
and between each the shadowy forest glades; and along the margin of the
shore a strip of white sand, laved by whiter foam.  And now the canoe is
quite out of the river current, and points up the lake, with glorious
scenery awaiting it on the right, brown rock mountains receding from the
water's edge to lofty altitudes, while their slopes contiguous are
enriched with tier upon tier of luxuriant and green mimosa, and tamarind
of darker green.  This was the prospect which greeted them after their
venturesome flight with a canoe belonging to other people, after rowing
over one hundred miles in twenty-five hours, down the river.

But they were not safe yet; their pursuers might be behind them, and it
behoved them to row far and long before they could be said to be quite
out of danger.  Selim and Kalulu were relieved by Abdullah and Niani,
Simba and Moto were tireless.

They followed the right shore of the lake for over eight hours; but at
the end of that time they drew in shore under the lee of an island
situated in the middle of a snug picturesque bay, and hiding their boat
deep among the reeds, disembarked at last on the island to shake each
other by the hand, to enjoy in full the happy thoughts and the serenity
of mind which the knowledge of their secured freedom had created within
them.

"Ah, Kalulu, we are safe!" cried Selim in a transport of joy, as he drew
the young chief to his side and sat down to rest with him.

"Yes, my brother, we are safe for the present; but Zanzibar is yet far,
is it not?"

"Yes, about five months; but I think, after we reach Usowa we need fear
nothing more.  Moto tells me the people are kind to the Arabs.  But say,
is not this beautiful?" asked Selim.

"Yes; but let us go to the top of the island, whence we can see all
around," said Kalulu; "and we can sleep in safety, and have the breeze
to cool us much better than below here."

In a few minutes they had gained the highest point of the island, and
sitting under the shade of a far-spreading mimosa, Selim, having taken
at a glance the unusual beauties of the scene, proceeded to point them
out to his companion one after another, saying:

"Follow me, Kalulu, and let me point out to thee what I consider pretty.
Look at the water of Liemba, so beautiful, so clear, so deep; and, does
it not shame the sky with its blueness where it is deep?  And look at
the shores dotted with the little hills!  They stand apart from each
other, as if each was the abode of some spirit.  They also image
themselves in the deep water, as if they wished to see, as our vain
women do, how pretty they look.  Are they not pretty?  Seest thou not
how each hill is like a Kituta hut; but, unlike the straw with which the
Watuta thatch their houses, the great Sky-spirit has thatched these with
beautiful trees, and sent the lake winds to make music among the leaves
and branches.  And look between the hills, Kalulu; follow the winding
valleys with thine eyes, until they rest where the valleys are lost in
those grey mountain folds.  If thou wert close to any of those valleys,
thou wouldst hear the brooks sing and laugh as they race over rock and
pebble towards the deep Liemba."

After a little while he continued, more seriously: "The music of the
trees and the music of the brooks mingling together speak to us children
of the Arabs of the goodness of the Sky-spirit.  If thine hearing was
fine enough, and we two were under those trees of the valley yonder,
thou wouldst be able to hear the voice of my mind and heart sing in
sympathy with the brook and the trees; and just as my heart sings out of
sympathy with their voices, so do the birds sing.  Hast thou never
thought how pretty and sweet sound the songs of birds, Kalulu?  I have
often, when in the mangoe grove near my father's house, seated on a
carpet of young and tender grass, watched a little bird coming with a
graceful, easy flight, and listened to it singing as it flew.  I have
watched it turning its little head about so cunningly to see if I was
there, and I have seen it looking for a comfortable twig to rest upon,
and when it was satisfied I have heard it utter a wondrous melody, and
this it seemed to do by simply opening its mouth and erecting its head,
and I could not imitate it, try how I might.  But though my voice
failed, my heart joined with it in song; and if all the little singing
birds sang together, my heart could sing as free, as clear as they.

"Hark, Kalulu! dost thou not hear the deep lake sing?  No!  I hear it,
and understand its song.  Look at the minute waves the zephyr rolls on
the beach.  Listen to the sound of them as they gather themselves up
like long bales of white cloth, and rush to lave the sand.  That is
music to me, and while it sings I think of the deeper, sweeter music
which the sea of Zanj makes at eve of day, which it made while my father
and his kinsman sat near the foamy waves to watch the sun falling
towards the sunset land.  Wouldst thou believe it, dear Kalulu, the
voices of those tiny waves sounding in my ear like the sighs of
departing friends make me better and purer, more like a child of great
Allah, the pure Sky-spirit, who made both thee and I, and all mankind.
They make me better, because the gentle thought of love to all men fills
my mind; they make me purer, because they draw me nearer to God.  I have
at this moment no hateful, unkind feeling towards any man.  To even
Ferodia I bear no ill-will.  I forget--I have a wish to forget--what
misery he caused me and mine.  For what am I in the presence of Allah,
whom I see in yon great mountains of grey rock, in yon boundless
forests, in those far-reaching valleys, in those tall hills, in those
wavelets, in the deep, deep water below us, and that immense roof of
cloud and vapour--so vast, so far above us, above which the golden
throne of Allah rests."

Kalulu had all this time been listening with wonder to Selim, whom he
regarded as talking magic; for the truth was, that Selim's feelings were
so wrought upon by the beauty of the scene and the gratitude he felt for
his escape from the tribe whose canoe his companions had taken that his
face had assumed a beatified look, which the more practical Kalulu could
not comprehend, unless he supposed he was talking magic.  Magic powers
and gifts Kalulu could understand and appreciate.  When he recovered his
speech Kalulu said:

"Selim, my brother, thy voice kindles in me a wish that I were born an
Arab's son.  Yet for all I have listened to thee, I fail to see the
beauty thou sayest thou dost see.  I fail also to hear the song or music
of the Sky-spirit, or of the brook, or of the trees, or of the waves.
But I am not one of the Arabs.  I am of Urori, and now a Mtuta and a
king.  I am the son of Mostana, the Kirori king, whom Kisesa the Arab
slew.  I have lived in the sunshine of Urori and Ututa.  I have seen the
forests of both countries, and have roamed over their plains.  I have
chased the antelope and the buffalo, hunted the quagga and the giraffe.
I have searched for honey in the woods, and followed the honey-bird
wheresoever he led me.  I have trapped wild birds and guinea-fowl in the
jungle.  I have been in valleys, and bathed in the streams that ran
through them.  I have climbed steep rocks and high mountains, camped on
the hills many and many a night; but I never heard music in any of these
things.

"Music!" continued Kalulu.  "What tribe loves music better than the
Warori and the Watuta.  Our mothers, seated under the shade of plantain
or tamarind, sing us to sleep while we suck.  They sing of corn-fields,
of labour, of gliding down rivers, of war, of great kings long since
dead, and of festal days.  But they never sing of birds, or of the music
of the water.  We never hear such music as thou dost hear.  Before we
have barely learned to walk, our little feet keep step to the sounding
`goma' (drum) of the village, and our hands begin a-clapping with the
chorus.  When we are great boys we drum and sing all day under the
shade, and at night during the large moon we often continue the dance
and song until the morning.  Our women, while they hoe in the field,
sing; and while they gather the sticks for the evening fire, or pound
the grain into flower, and while they cook for their lords, they sing.
The warriors sing always before they go out on the hunt, before the
battle, at the marriage, at a death, and at a burial, they sing.  They
are ever singing, and so am I when I may.  I love to sing.  But none of
our warriors ever said that waters sing, or that trees, or leaves, or
branches sing.  Thou mightst as well have told me that the cattle, when
they low, sing; or that kids when they bleat, or that the hyaena when he
growls, or that the jackal when he hungrily yelps, or that the lion when
he roars.  Dost thou call the roar of the mamba, or the bellow of the
hippopotamus, or the screaming cry of the quagga, or the shrill neigh of
the zebra, singing?  Hast thou heard the furious bellow of the buffalo,
or the rageful trumpet of the elephant when he charges, or the grunt of
the wart-hog, or the warning snort of the eland, or the noise of the
rhinoceros when he plunges at his foe?  Would the children of the Arabs
say any of these sang?  If thou sayest that birds when they chirp, the
wind when it moans, the leaves when they rustle, or the waters when they
splash and roll over the beach, do sing, then why not say that the
noises of the animals are their songs?"  After a short breathing spell
Kalulu continued: "Ah!  Selim, my brother, thy Sky-spirit and mine are
not the same.  Thine teaches thee nothing but lies.  Lo! he is afraid to
show himself, or perhaps, like the Watuta warriors, he loves to bask in
the sun on his throne of gold; perhaps he loves his `pombe' (beer) like
our chiefs.  If, as thou sayest, he lives above the clouds, it must be
very hot above there, and great heat makes people lazy.  Why does he not
come down and show himself?  Our Sky-spirit comes often to visit us.  He
is one day like a bird, with white wings; the next he is like a big
raven.  One day he is a roaring lion, another day he is like a leopard.
The Mganga calls unto him with his medicine and gourd, and he either
makes us strong in war, or gives us abundance of cloth, beads, and
elephant teeth.  He kills us, if he is angry, with a bad disease; sends
strong tribes, and stirs their hearts against us, while he makes our
hearts faint and our arms weak; but he never lies.  When a good magic
doctor asks him he always answers, and his words come to pass."

After another pause, Kalulu continued once more.  "Thou sayest that thy
Sky-spirit made thee and me, and all men.  Perhaps he did make thee and
the Arabs, for thou and they are white; but he did not make the Warori
or the Watuta.  We are black, born of black mothers, and sired by black
fathers.  Hast thou seen the kidling by the side of its dam? or the
young fawn frisking by the side of its mother?  Even as the kidling and
the young fawn came to this world, came the children of the Watuta and
Warori.  Thou didst tell me once that the good Arabs go when they die to
a beautiful place called Paradise.  Perhaps they do, for they are white,
and have been favoured by thy Sky-spirit.  But good or bad, Warori and
Watuta, when they die, go to the ground, into the deep grave, and there
are no more words from them, because they have no breath; they are
ended.  That is what the magic doctors, and those who know, have told
me, and there is no untruth in what I say."

"Oh!  Kalulu, my brother, thou art now like those who cannot see,
because there is no light in their eyes, or like those who do not hear,
because their ears are stopped.  There is no doubt that God, the
Sky-spirit, made the sky like a curtain round about us, and that He made
the earth like a bed spread out for us to live in, and, though thou art
black, He made thee as well as He made me--He made the birds, the trees,
the rocks, the valleys, and the hills; He hath caused the rain to fall
in its proper season, and all the fruits and corn of the earth to grow
for us, each in its own good time.  There is no lie in all this, it is
truth as clear as yon mountains.  Thou art now like a child in the
knowledge of these things, but when thou wilt reach Zanzibar, and shall
have learnt our language, thou wilt know the truth of what I speak.  Thy
mind is now like the troubled clouds of the morning, which are yet dark
and gloomy, but through them all comes the sun, and the black clouds
vanish before his bright glory; so will the darkness which now covers
thy mind, and hides the light, for when thou canst talk, and understand
what I say, the truth will shine through it all, and the darkness will
be no more.  Enough for the present; let us rest and sleep, that we may
be ready for our journey to-night," and Selim lay down, and Kalulu,
after trying in vain to penetrate the meaning of all his brother's
words, and to see the promised light before the fulfilment of time,
finally lay down, and forgot all about the wonderful Sky-spirit in a
deep slumber.

They were wakened by Simba's voice, who stood like a colossal
shadow-being of the spirit-land above them, for so his figure appeared
to their half-dreamy senses.  But a vigorous shake of both by his heavy
hand soon dispelled the half-formed dreams, and informed them that it
was night, and that their friend Simba was urging them to be up and
away.

Lightly they descended the hill and stepped into their dear little
canoe, and presently the isle of Mimosas, on which they had rested, was
but a dim configuration of a low hill, and, receding still further, it
became lost in the general gloom of night.

The canoe was far enough from shore not to be delayed by any
fishing-boats; the deep water was all about them, and the lofty,
far-upheaving, beaming heaven above them, with its countless myriads of
ever-blinking lights, lighting them, poor wanderers, on their way.

Kalulu, to wile away the time and to cheer his companions, struck up, in
a low voice, the boat song of the Liemba, with the chorus "We are
gliding, Swiftly gliding."

And, in the quicker, throb-like impulsion of the canoe which followed,
Kalulu knew that the song and music had the desired effect on the crew.

Morning came again, and keen eyes searched the shore for habitations,
but, assured that there were none, the crew advanced perceptibly nearer;
and Simba, perceiving an opening between two low hills, advised that
they should row for it, and try their hands on game, as provisions had
run very low.

A happier place could not have been chosen, for all around was clear of
cane and rank grass, which generally bordered the lake-shore near the
river mouths; and instead of this swampy vegetation rose a thin forest,
in which there were numbers of fruit-trees, ripe black singwe--an oval
fruit of the size of a plum, but which has a more piquant flavour than
our plume--and yellow mbembu--a stone fruit, in shape like a small
peach; but though I call it the forest peach from this likeness, its
flesh breaks off like a pear's, even when ripest, but its taste is a
mixture of the peach and the pear--to which our party rushed, like the
half-starved creatures they were.

Having refreshed themselves with handfuls of the delicious fruit, Kalulu
proposed that he and Selim should venture out in one direction, while
Moto and Abdullah should go in another, to look for game; meantime Simba
and Niani to look after the canoe.  The proposition was agreeable to
all.

Kalulu and Selim chose a north-east direction, Moto and Abdullah
selected a south-east route.

The first couple, with whom we have most to deal, struck out boldly,
Kalulu armed with his spear, and bow, and arrows, Selim with his English
"Joe Manton," which had often before distinguished itself on many a
hunting-field.  Thickets were passed by, as well as the thin forest,
without meeting with a single head of game; but suddenly the thin forest
gave way to a bit of park-land, that is, an open country sprinkled with
a few noble trees here and there, with its face slightly rolling, thus
forming an agreeable prospect compared to what a flat ground would have
furnished.  In the distance, say at a hundred yards off from the thin
forest they were about leaving, the two boys saw a herd of noble zebra
engaged in play, in nibbling each other's necks, or, with ears drawn
back, were playfully kicking at each other.  Selim flung his
rifle-barrel into the hollow of his left hand, and aimed at a perfectly
regal animal, kingly in his pride and beauty, regal in shape and size,
who, foremost of the herd, had seen the intruders, and who, with an
erect head and noble mien, was engaged in surveying them.

Crack went the rifle, and the magnificent beast rolled on his side,
while the herd, uttering their alarm and sorrow in shrill neighs,
scampered off to a safer distance to scrutinise the intruders, who with
merry laugh and light bounds hastened to secure their game.

The wounded zebra lay still, and Selim, thinking it dead, could not help
laying down his rifle, quite forgetful of the Moslem's duty of severing
its throat and letting out the blood, to survey the beautiful beast.  It
was so beautiful he could not help going to it, and striding the back,
taking hold of the mane, and saying to Kalulu:

"Ah, what a fine horse he would make! how I wish that such an animal as
this would carry me to Zanzibar," and as he said this, while Selim was
on his back imitating the movements of a rider, the zebra rose to his
feet so quick that the boy had no time to throw himself off, and bounded
after the herd with the swiftness of lightning.

Kalulu uttered a cry of horror; but, recovering quickly, he drew his bow
and sent an arrow deep into the flanks of the fleeing animal.

This wound but spurred the furious and frightened beast, with his
strange rider, to quicker speed.  Kalulu heard the glad neighing of the
zebra herd as they greeted the approach of their lord; he saw them
surround him, then looking suspiciously at the rider; saw them, while
furiously galloping over the park-land, run at the boy with open mouth
and drawn ears; saw them frantically kicking their heels about to the
right and left; and, while his heart stood still with fear for his white
brother's safety, he saw the herd, still chasing the ridden zebra,
vanish in the forest beyond.

Then, waking from the stupor of fear and surprise, Kalulu noted the
direction the herd had taken, he hastened back to the bivouac, where
Simba and Niani sat waiting the return of the hunters, and breathlessly
informed the astounded giant that Selim had galloped away on the back of
a zebra into the forest, and urged him to take his gun and follow him;
and, without waiting to see the effect of his words, he bounded off
again in pursuit of the flying herd.

Niani uttered a cry of sorrow, but Simba, after waiting a second to tell
him not to stir from his concealment, ran after Kalulu.  Overtaking him,
they both stood for a moment under the tree where the zebra had lain
apparently dead.  Kalulu pointed to the direction the herd had taken,
and without more words the two, Simba and Kalulu, braced themselves for
a run.

The soft ground showed the pursuers the traces of the hoofs which had
been fiercely struck deep into the ground, as the flanking animals
outside of the herd had charged at the rider of their lord; at the base
being who had audaciously usurped a seat no living man had a right to
claim.  The pursuers noted these things as they ran, and could well have
described the fury of the herd, as they saw their noble king thus
ignominiously treated.  What! they! free rovers of the virgin forest and
plain, the untamed creatures of the wilds, whose gorgeous backs and
splendid hides had never been defiled, within the memory of the oldest
zebra, by the bestriding limbs of any man, to see their noble lord
insulted!  No wonder when such thoughts filled them, that their eyes
flashed and their crests bristled, and their flowing tails erected, and
their hoofs struck deep with frantic energy into the yielding turf.
Then they thought of what Selim's feelings must be, surrounded thus by
the indignant creatures, charging, and biting, and kicking at him, eyes
kindled with honest rage, as they ranged around their monarch--their
open nostrils glowing like fire, and emitting their hot, steamy breath,
while he struck right and left, and shouted to fend them off.

On continued the pursuers, with increased speed, as they thought of the
great danger their young friend was in, with their heads resting on
their shoulders, and their faces cutting the tepid breeze, and their
mouths wide open to inhale the air in short, quick draughts, for the
lungs that rapidly exhausted it, with their hands fanning the wind, and
their chests rising and subsiding with each breath they took, and the
hips urging and impelling the lagging feet, which fain would have
spurned the ground.

On, on, my brave, faithful friends! take no heed to yourselves; think
not of your growing weariness, or of future pain.  Let your livers ache,
and the overtasked lungs feel exhausted!  Let your heads throb, and your
limbs be fatigued; your friend is in need!  Be not discouraged.  See the
large clots of blood that stain the sheeny grass; the zebra monarch must
yield to fate, despite his royal body-guard.  His life wanes fast, as ye
may note by the red blood which dyes the ground.  On, on, my gallant
souls!  Speed on, my agile Kalulu!  Confess no fatigue; for thou art a
son of the forest, and rightly named after the swift-footed fawnling.
On, on, my brave Simba! one effort more; let it not be said that a boy
shamed thee!  Ha! behold!  What said I?  Yonder lies your prize
stretched on the ground!  And see, here is Selim himself advancing
towards ye!  The Arab boy is then safe.

Simba and Kalulu were so tired after their long run, which had lasted an
hour, that they were compelled to throw themselves on the ground, while
the throbbing hearts heat wildly, and their lungs laboured hard and
fast; but finally, though their heads yet ached with pain, they were
tranquil enough to hear Selim's story, which was, in the main, described
above, though when the zebra staggered and fell, Selim said that he
leaped down, and ran behind a tree, while the herd, neighing shrilly,
disappeared in the forest, and left their monarch alone to his fate.

After a short time Simba and Kalulu were so far recovered, as to be able
to rise up to cut up some of the zebra that had given them so much
trouble and anxiety; then, loaded with meat, they began to retrace their
steps along the same road they had ran so fast in pursuit of him whom
they now heard laughing as he told some points of the story.

At sunset they arrived at the tree whence the unequal race began, where
they found Selim's rifle, which he had unwisely left on the ground, and
proceeding to their bivouac, were all heartily welcomed by Moto and
Abdullah, who had killed a young buffalo cow, whose generous meat was
already cooking on the wooden platform we have in another chapter
described.

They rested that night in the same spot, where they were so secure from
molestation, to enjoy the abundance Nature had furnished them, and to
relieve themselves from the strain the arduous labour of flight had
imposed upon them the last few days.

Continuing their journey at sunrise, they hugged the shore, which they
had thus a chance to observe more closely.  They could see the waves of
the surf break on the rocks at the foot of hills rising above them, or
playfully toss themselves in wanton glee on the shingly or the sandy
beach, their curling caps becoming white foam as they met resistance in
the firm land; and at each hollow between the hills they could note the
lazy rillets dribble through the tiny sandy furrows into the lake; or
watch how the greater streams that continually discharged themselves by
every avenue to the great lake, came sailing round the bends of their
course from under the sunless gloom of embracing mangrove bough and
cane; or look in wonder at the remarkably lofty matete, which they ever
and anon passed, whose each stalk was furnished with many a rapier-like
leaf, which rustled gently before the wind, and showed a sheen and
glister which the finest silk they had ever seen could not rival; or
glance with curious eyes at their stalks below, when they came in
contact with the black earth that nourished such profuse vegetation, and
see how, one after another, these receded to rayless shadow and
all-pervading darkness, in which, however, their ears detected the
movements of busy feet, the quick pattering on the earth, the signals
and low triumphant cries of the birds, which seek shelter and have their
being in such gloomy recesses--from the sleek-looking diver to the
active little kingfisher; from the crested crane, or the towering
pelican, to the pretty white paddy-birds.

They passed many and many a bold cape and lowland, whereon grew wild
plaintains, whose broad fronds offered an impervious protection against
the noon-day heat, which nourished scores and scores of wild
guinea-palms, and dark green tamarinds, and tall trees, too, from whose
stems the natives excavate their canoes, and umbrageous sycamores and
wide-spreading mimosa.  All these headlands and lowlands, head-capes,
and far in-reaching bays and creeks, where sported the hippopotami, and
lazily floated the crocodile in his enormous length--yea, all were
beautiful.

Then the lake contracted; the two shores came nearer, and a strong
current carried them safely towards the north, and to a lake of still
greater size and extent.  They continued along the right shore of the
lake, congratulating themselves that they were now in the sea of Ujiji.
Now and then they passed villages, which they took good care to avoid,
and at night they rested on the shore in the deepest recesses of a
cane-brake, or on some lonely island far removed from any habitation;
day after day they continued their journey unmolested; and each person
of the party now came to think that Usowa would certainly be reached in
safety.

But on the sixth day after they had entered the great lake a storm
arose, accompanied by lightning and a great downpour of rain, and the
furious waves arched their white crests, and were driven wilder and
higher above their heads by the angry wind; while the canoe which had
carried them so long became tossed about and pelted by the maddened
water, until it seemed as if they must all perish.  Simba and Moto
manfully laboured at their paddles, and endeavoured to direct her head
to the shore, but the strong wind laughed at their efforts, and blew her
on before it, and the waves dashed their heads against it, and drove it
on--now on their topmost crests, and now into the engulfing troughs
which opened to receive it as it was precipitated down to them.  The
lightning played in all directions, the heavens seemed rent with the
deafening thunder-crash, and the rain poured like a deluge; and while
the wretched boys were compelled to bale the water with their hands, the
wind and wares carried the half-submerged canoe where they listed.  Thus
through the mist, and fog, and blinding rain, while Simba and Moto
continued to keep her before the wind, the canoe was being driven
towards an inhabited portion of the shore.  The rain ceased for a
moment, and the mist cleared away, only to allow the crew in the canoe
to see whither they were drifting, and to allow a number of people
crowded under a temporary shed on the shore to see them.

"Who were these people?" thought the fear-stricken fugitives.  "What
would be their reception?"  But they had no time to think more before
they were in the surf, and a mighty wave came and struck the paddle from
Simba's hand, and spun the canoe round broadside to a second wave which
lifted it to an immense height, and dashed it upside down; while a third
came on irresistibly, and sent it and its late crew far on the beach,
stunned and bruised, where, before they could arise to their feet, they
were pounced upon by the shore people, to be enslaved once more.  Oh,
misery!  The shore people turned out to be a nomadic tribe of Wazavila--
or Wazavira, as the Arabs pronounce the name--who erect their huts
anywhere between southern Unyamwezi and Liemba, from Usowa to the
borders of Ututa.  Had Simba and his companions been able to travel
three days longer they might have reached friendly Usowa easily, but
here, almost on the threshold of the friendly region, they had fallen
into the power of the disreputable Wazavila freebooters, Simba struggled
desperately, but neither he nor any of his companions had the slightest
chance against the numbers that surrounded them.  They were bound hand
and foot, and carried under the roof of the shed, where the white bodies
and straight hair of the Arabs elicited many a wondering comment, and
provoked as much surprise as they had done amongst the Watuta when they
were first captured.

The chief of these rovers was called Casema.  His people, including
women and children, numbered about three hundred.  About four months
before the period at which they are introduced to us by this capture of
our unfortunate heroes, they had started from their home, Benzani, a
district which lay somewhere north of the Bungwa River, and east of
Usowa, to which they now intended to return, having secured such prizes.

Simba and Moto heard these remarks, as the chief consulted with his
people about the plan of action, and felt convinced they need not
despair, that the prospects of an escape eventually from these people
were exceedingly bright if they were only prudent in their behaviour.
They could govern themselves, but they were not so sure of the fiery
young Kituta chief, Kalulu, who would probably before long commit some
act of imprudence; nor were they quite sure of the indomitable young
Arabs, who would be naturally inclined to despair at so many reverses;
for Niani, poor little fellow! who was a slave by birth, they need fear
nothing, as he could relapse at will into that state of frigid, stoical
apathy a slave with no promising future before him so soon assumes,

The sky soon cleared up, the wind went down, and the wares abated, and
the captors became more lively in their behaviour; but fearing that some
aid might come to their captives in some shape by the lake, at sunset
they broke camp, and started for the interior, but not before their
miserable slaves had been tied together by the neck, with stout thongs
of green hide.

The general direction they travelled was east, but the caravan filed by
bends and curves so numerous, that it was with great difficulty Moto
could settle in his mind in which direction they were going.

At midnight they bivouacked in the depth of a forest, and warriors were
detailed to watch the captives, but the latter were so fatigued with the
exertions of the day, that such precautions were needless.  They had
soon fallen asleep, despite the unpleasant thongs that encircled their
necks, or the more unpleasant bonds which confined their hands behind
them.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE SLAVE HUNTERS MEDITATE ANOTHER ATTACK--A TRUE PICTURE OF THE SLAVE
TRADE--THE INUNDATED PLAIN--A TERRIBLE CATASTROPHE--THE JOYS OF
LIBERTY--SIMBA FIGHTS WITH A LEOPARD--KALULU SYMPATHISES WITH WOUNDED
SIMBA--KALULU SHOWS ABDULLAH THE ART OF MAKING A FIRE--NIANI PUNISHES
THE DEAD LEOPARD--HOW A MTUTA CHIEF FIGHTS--KALULU VICTORIOUS--SIMBA
THINKS KALULU A HERO--SPEARING THE LEPIDOSIREN--HOW A TRUE SON OF THE
FOREST ACTS--WHAT KALULU FOUND IN THE ARABS' CAMP--KALULU IS
KIDNAPPED!--A VICTIM OF AN ATROCIOUS DEED.

The unfortunate captives were wakened rudely at sunrise by smart taps
applied to them by the warriors with the butts of their spears.  Kalulu
felt very much like resenting this rough behaviour; but Moto entreated
him, as he saw him raise his flashing eyes, not to urge them to greater
violence, as, whether he liked it or not, he was compelled to bear it.

They were soon on the road, for savages and slaves take but little time
to make ready for their journey.  After they had marched a little while,
Moto heard the warriors nearest him talk of an attack Casema had
determined to make upon a village some time during that night, as he had
found out that most of the fighting men had gone south on a hunting
expedition, leaving only a few able men to guard it, while there were
numbers of women and children within.  The village belonged to an
isolated tribe of the Northern Wabemba, sometimes called Bobemba.

Towards the decline of day the Wazavila halted in a thick grove; and as
they would not permit the captives or their own people to kindle fires,
all were compelled to eat the grains of Indian corn doled out to them
unroasted--a task which the stoutest jaws would find excessively hard.
In the meantime it was noticed how the warriors sharpened their spears,
and critically examined the strings of their hows, and made other
preparations for war upon the defenceless village of the Wabemba, which
must have been near, else why all their preparations?

About three hours after darkness, after leaving twenty men to guard
Kalulu and his companions, the Wazavila, to the number of one hundred
and fifty, started to put their murderous purpose into effect.

Though Kalulu, Selim, and their friends listened keenly for the sounds
of the strife, they heard nothing; but at the end of a couple of hours
they saw a red blaze over the tops of the trees to the south, and they
knew that the work of the devil was being enacted, or that it had been
consummated, and that fearful glare of fire seen against the sky was
only the final completion of the craven and wicked deed.  About midnight
the fiends returned with about two hundred and fifty women and children,
and a few old men, the able-bodied having perished to a man, as they
afterwards found out, in the defence of their homes.  The order to march
was given, and through the pathless jungle and forest the Wazavila urged
their slaves with spear, blade, and shaft, so they might be far out of
reach before the vengeful Wabemba came on their trail.

The morning rose and found them still tramping on in a direction
considerably north of east, and showed the scene with all its horrors to
the sympathising Selim and Abdullah, though to Kalulu, Simba, and Moto
such scenes were not new.

On this and the following days, for nearly a fortnight, the two Arab
boys had this accursed evil of Africa brought vividly before their
minds, and they saw to its fullest extent the immeasurable vastness of
the sin and crime of which the Wazavila freebooters were guilty.  They
had wantonly attacked an unoffending village, and reduced to servitude
and misery the poor people, whose homes had been fired, the flames of
which had made the sombre night lurid with the red glare, and had
exhausted themselves among smoking embers and the scorched bodies of the
men who had lost their lives in disputing the advance of the Wazavila
assassins and midnight robbers, who had stealthily entered this village
to make the night hideous and awful with their crimes.

Step by step, through that pathless jungle and forest, which seemed
interminable, did the poor people moisten the ground with their bloody
sweat; step by step did they vent their miseries in hot tears, in
groans, which were answered by vicious blows on their backs from their
relentless captors.  Each day saw an infant, which had been until then
full of promise of lusty life, laid down by the side of the path cold
and dead; for the mother, under the load of her miseries and privation,
could not sustain the young life with her emptied breasts, and too often
for detailed recital, she herself resignedly knelt and died by her
starved offspring.  Too often, alas! did the wretched mother, lacking
proper sustenance, first fall dead in her tracks, with her little baby
vainly sucking at the chilled breast, while a blank look of hopelessness
stole over his little face as he wonderingly looked after the departing
caravan, and trembled with an unexplained horror at the dread silence
and loneliness of the forest.  No mourner was left behind to bewail the
fate of these hapless ones; only the moaning winds sang their monotonous
requiems until the voracious hyaena and the hungry jackal came to
consume that which had become as a blight and ugly spot on nature.

Nothing was better calculated to cure Selim and Abdullah of the desire
of ever making money by buying and selling slaves than these scenes,
even if the unutterable wretchedness of their own condition had not
taught them the full meaning of the term "slave" before this.

Day by day every good feeling within them was shocked; for day by day
new victims to human lust of gain were left cold and stretched in death
along the road--old and young seemed to perish alike from the same
cause--starvation and fatigue.  Neither the patriarch nor the child was
absolved from the dire fate.

About the fifteenth day they came to a populated plain, where the
Wazavila, by the sale of two slaves, obtained sufficient food to
distribute a week's rations to each man of the caravan; and in order
that their human cattle might recuperate somewhat, they rested in the
plain two days.  The Wazavila had still nearly one hundred and seventy
slaves, over eighty having perished since the night of the attack.

When they continued their march the direction which they took was nearly
due north, as they were now about a hundred and forty miles due east of
the Sea of Ujiji, the great lake in whose troubled waters Kalulu and his
companions came so near to an untimely end.  During nearly the whole
march rain had fallen, and the plain through which they now traversed
added by its marshy character to increase the fatigue of marching.

In two days the plain had sensibly declined to a lower level, and the
water rushing from the higher ground had inundated the whole of that
part of it they now traversed to the depth of about six inches; in some
places it was still deeper.  This portion of the plain the Wazavila told
Moto was called Bikwa; and from general conversation that he heard, he
knew that shortly they might expect to see a river called the Bungwa,
which every year during the rainy season flooded its banks.  It was for
the purpose of giving their starved slaves strength to cross this
terrible plain that the Wazavila had halted two days, as it required a
long day's march to traverse the inundated part and to cross the river,
on the other side of which was higher ground; while, had they been
compelled to travel to the eastward, three days would not have sufficed
to get over the swampy plain.

Moto communicated his opinions to Simba, declaring that he thought the
time to try to make their escape had arrived.  It would probably be
night, or nearly so, by the time they would reach the river, and, in
order to save their slaves from drowning, the Wazavila would be
compelled to free them.  Simba coincided with Moto, and they passed the
word to their friends to hold themselves ready for any contingency that
might arise.

What little strength the wearied women and children had gained by their
two days' rest was soon exhausted in the passage of the Bikwa swamp.
The quagmiry road, trodden into tenacious paste by the long file of
human beings ahead, soon rendered travelling by those behind them a work
of unconquerable difficulty, and some unfortunate woman or child was
momentarily struggling for life in the muddy waste, never to rise again.
And as the day rapidly passed away, and no signs of the river were yet
seen, the anxiety of the Wazavila became evident.  But a little after
sunset, as the dying day was being rapidly exchanged for night, the head
of the caravan arrived at the ford of the Bungwa, which river, as was
expected, was emptying an immense volume of water to spread out and
inundate the plain.

Two or three warriors cautiously ventured into the stream to ascertain
its depth and force.  As soon as they got in it was evident, by the
effort they made to keep their feet, and by its depth, which rose up to
the tops of their shoulders at times, that the crossing of the river
would be attended with appalling loss of human life.

Our party were close to the bank when this experiment was made, watching
it with intense interest, and as soon as the warriors had safely
crossed, Moto asked a warrior to cut the bonds which bound his hands
behind his back, that he might have a chance to save his life.  As this
was but fair, the warrior complied with his request, and released his
hands, as well as those of his companions, and then generously severed
the thongs which bound the party neck to neck.

Simba led the way into the water; and, being tall and strong, he took
Selim by one hand, and Abdullah by the other, into the raging flood.
Moto took Niani, Kalulu, lightly touching his lee shoulder, was able to
avail himself of Moto as a breakwater, and at the same time assist him
with Niani.  When Simba reached the middle of the river the feet of both
Arab boys were swept from under them, and the same happened to little
Niani, while Kalulu could with difficulty keep his feet--so strong was
the flood.

It was a long and anxious task, even for Simba and Moto; but they
finally emerged on the bank in the darkness, and sat down, apparently
worn out.

Closely following Simba's party were about twenty of the warriors, each
leading a woman or a child by the hand; but the first of these warriors
happened to be unfortunate, for the woman he led, feeling herself unable
to resist the flood, uttered a terrible cry of alarm, and sprang
forward, and, being swept against the almost submerged head of the
warrior, carried him down with the rapid current.  The warrior dived to
release himself from the woman, and swam bravely for the shore--two of
the warriors on the shore alongside of Simba's party running down the
bank to assist their companions.

The cries and screams of the drowning woman threw the women and children
then in the stream into a panic, and so confused the men leading and
assisting them, that they staggered and allowed themselves to recede
downwards, step by step, which soon took them into deep water, and the
men themselves had to begin straggling for their lives, while the poor
women and children were carried down, far beyond aid, by the impetuous
current, uttering their drowning cries, which were heard far above all,
until they ceased to struggle, and were silenced by the watery grave
they had found.

Casema's voice was heard commanding that every two warriors should lead
a woman between them, and while the shouts and the screams of the
terrified females announced that this course had begun to be tried,
Simba nudged Moto as a sign to be ready, and to seize the bows and
arrows of the two men who had gone down the bank, while he himself would
snatch the spear of the warrior who was still standing by as a sentry
over them.  Moto conveyed the intimation to Kalulu and the other three
to hold themselves ready, and hinted back to Simba to begin.

Quick as a lightning's flash, Simba rose, and snatching the spear on
which the warrior leaned, lifted him high in the air, and tossed him
head-foremost into the river before he could utter a cry.  Meantime,
Moto had collected the three bows, and three quivers full of arrows; and
each, taking hold of one another by the hand, ran from the bank before a
single alarm could be given.

Our friends were far out on the plain before a chorus of shrill cries
for help announced that another calamity had taken place at that awful
ford; and were it only for being relieved from witnessing the many more
calamities that must take place before all those living could reach the
hither bank, they conceived that they had just cause to congratulate
themselves.

Once clear out of sound of the disastrous ford, Moto suggested that they
should strike to the north-west, lest, by going too far to the north,
they might fall across more of the predatory Wazavila, a suggestion that
Simba thought prudent and thoughtful.

Kalulu breathing free again, after his escape a second time from
slavery, felt light as air, and was for the moment as happily disposed
as he could well be, while Selim and Abdullah felt in their hearts an
overflowing gratitude to Allah for his protection and deliverance from
vile bondage, and breathed prayers to him to continue in his care of
them.

Long before morning dawned, they felt that the character of the country
was changed; for rounded shadows heaving upwards gave them an idea that
hills were becoming frequent, and that these they saw were but the
vanguard of some range they were approaching.  The morning and its
welcome light confirmed this opinion; for before them rose a majestic
ridge of mountains, clothed from top to base with greenest verdure.

Prudence counselled them to seek the mountains by the most unlikely way,
and they accordingly adopted the precaution, and were soon scaling a
steep slope, overgrown with the feathery bamboo.  From the eminence they
attained, they turned their eyes to note the plain they had left, which
was now spread out before them in one grand prospect, while it spoke or
revealed nothing of the misery and sorrow which they knew existed in
some part of it, among the human beings driven to hopeless bondage by
the cruel Wazavila.  Unable to dwell upon its false and treacherous
beauty, they turned towards the mountains, which, so far, had nothing of
the ominous or fatal in its features for them.

The sun seemed a long time coming out, they thought, as they looked
towards the east; but then it was the rainy season throughout Central
Africa, which had been heralded in by that awful storm on the sea of
Ujiji, and out of which they had escaped to experience the privations of
bondage; and the lowering mist and humid fog hovering over the
crag-bound ridges above them was the result of the rains that had lately
submerged the Bikwa Plain throughout its length and breadth.

About noon, after they had lost themselves in the deep folds of the
mountains, our party rested to recover their strength, and to aid the
recovery more rapidly by grinding some of their corn rations between
their jaws.  Simba thought this very dry eating, since they were free,
and expressed a decided objection to remain much longer without meat,
which, in his opinion, was the only food fit for a free man.  Kalulu
agreed with him in all he said, and volunteered to accompany any man in
a search for game, which, he said, ought to be plentiful in such
solitudes.  Whereupon Simba agreed to accompany him; but since he did
not know much about a bow, he would take his spear, which he could throw
as well as any other man, while Kalulu could take a bow and his quiver
of arrows.

Matters being thus arranged, Moto promised to be very good, and look
after the boys, and see that they got into no mischief during the
absence of Simba and Kalulu, upon which Simba thanked him, and bade him
surely expect something within an hour.

Kalulu held three arrows in his left hand, and his bow in his right, and
descending a deep ravine which opened shortly into a mountain valley of
exquisite beauty, he was gratified to observe a solitary eland lying
under a tree, with a splendid pendulous dew-lap, moving about as it
erected its head to chew the cud and to enjoy in that solitude the sweet
repast of grass it had lately eaten.  Simba stood hid behind a tall
tree, while Kalulu, master of the art he was now practising, began to
move through the grass towards it with the ease of a snake.  For a
moment the young chief debated within himself when to send his arrow,
but finally arrived at a conclusion; for he drew his bow, and drove an
arrow behind the fore-shoulder, which, penetrating through, pierced the
heart, and after one or two spasmodic bounds into the air, the eland
stretched himself on the ground, dying.

Kalulu turned round to beckon to his companion, when he saw with
surprise that Simba had broken his spear short, and, after stripping
himself, had rolled his loin-cloth around his left hand, and raising his
shortened spear, had put himself into an attitude of defence against
something.

He at once bounded forward to assist his friend, when at the first step
he took he saw a leopard spring upon Simba with a terrific cry.
Uttering a cry of horror--but nothing daunted by the ferocity of the
animal--he placed a barbed arrow on the string of his bow, and came up
close to the combatants just as he witnessed Simba thrusting his left
hand into the leopard's mouth, and driving his spear repeatedly into his
side.  The animal's claws were buried in the left hip and knees of
Simba, which he was viciously tearing; but his jaws were rendered
useless by thick folds of cloth which Simba had thrust into his mouth at
the first onset of the brute.  It was well that Simba was such a
powerful man, else the shock of the onset would have knocked him down,
when it would have become doubtful work to save his throat from the
gleaming fangs.

Kalulu stayed only to take in these observations, and then stepped
deliberately nearer, and drove an arrow through him; and without waiting
to watch the results, drove another, and still another, while Simba
drove his spear several times deep into his heart, and exerting his
strength when he felt the claws relax, he brought his right leg forward,
and turning the animal's back on it, pressed down his head with his left
hand, and drew the sharp spear-blade twice across the throat, almost
severing the head.  Then the animal, yielding to superior strength and
weapons, fell off, shivered once or twice, and lay extended lifeless--
dead.

Poor Simba was most grievously wounded; for the claws had penetrated
deep into his hip, while the knee-bone was bare.

"Ah!" sighed he, as he heard the expressions of sympathy from his young
friend, "if I had only some of that eland thou didst shoot, Kalulu, in
me yesterday, to-day I should have bent that beast double, as easily as
I would fold a piece of cloth.  But grain-food! who can be strong after
feeding on grain-food for sixteen days?  Give grain to asses, but meat
for men!"

"See here, Simba.  Do thou rest thyself under this tree, while I go and
bring our friends here.  It is far easier for them to come here than for
us to carry the eland to them.  Thou mayest take my cloth to wrap round
thy wounds.  I don't need cloth while thou art thus."  So saying, the
generous, sympathising youth hastened to inform his friends of the
accident that had happened to Simba, which they received with surprise
and consternation.

Selim and Abdullah, who had been indebted so often to the power that lay
in Simba's arm, as soon as they heard of the wounds which their champion
had received, now hastened to him to offer their services.

"Speak, Simba!  Oh! the frightful beast!" said Selim, as his eye caught
sight of the mangled and gashed leopard.  "Speak! art thou much hurt?"

Simba was reclining under the tree, looked slightly troubled with his
pains; the clothe he had taken to staunch the blood were lying on the
wounded hip and knee, by no means pleasant to look at.  The two boys,
seeing these things, judged immediately that Simba's case was very
grave--that he was going to die; and, not knowing what else to do, they
began to cry, to sound the praises of their dear friend, and lament his
sudden "taking off."

Simba, however, answered them as quickly as he could subdue a pang of
pain, and command language.

"Nay, weep not, young masters.  Simba is but slightly wounded--flesh
wounds--nothing more.  No, no, Simba is not going to die; he must see
his wife and children, and Selim in his home again, before he can die.
But--Master Abdullah!"

"Yes, Simba, what is it?"

"Dost thou really like big Simba?"

"Oh, Simba, how canst thou ask?  Thou hast succeeded my father Mohammed
in my affections.  Remember the Liemba and the crocodile.  I can never
forget that awful moment, for the scars on my leg remind me of it
daily."

"I thought thou didst like Simba a little; but wouldst thou be very
sorry if Simba died to be left in this valley to be eaten by the hyaena
and the jackal, Abdullah?"

"Don't, don't, Simba, for Allah's sake, ask any such thing.  Thou hast
said thou art not going to die, then why torment me?"

"Yes; but I might die if Master Abdullah did not do me one favour,
for--"

"Speak; command me, Simba--anything, everything," urged Abdullah.

"If Master Abdullah would only make a little fire, and Master Selim cut
a little meat from that fine eland that lies dead by that tree yonder,
Simba might eat meat and live."

"Thou shalt have meat, Simba," cried Abdullah, "before thou canst count
one hundred," and he bustled about, ran here and there; collected
bunches of dry grass, leaves, twigs, sticks; brought a good-sized log or
two of dead wood, between which a fire should be built; while Selim,
after taking the spear which had probed the leopard's heart, had run
towards the dead eland, and was slashing and carving great chunks of
meat.

Abdullah had his pile of wood ready, but he now turned with a puzzled
expression towards Simba, and said "Here is the wood; but where and how
can we get fire?  Our guns are in the bottom of the sea!"

Kalulu, Moto, and Niani had come up by this time, and Moto, after
examining the wounds of his friend, turned round to Abdullah and said:

"Kalulu will help thee, Abdullah, to get fire; he does not need a
musket-pan or powder."

Abdullah wae curious to know how, for he had always seen a musket-pan
used, though he had wondered often when a slave with the Wazavila how
the natives obtained a fire; but he had never seen the process.

Kalulu, however, proceeded to show Abdullah how the Watuta obtained fire
by other means than a musket-pan.  Selecting a piece of stiff, dry bark,
he placed it between his feet on the ground, and sprinkled it with a
little sand, which he first rubbed dry and warm between the palms of his
hands.  He now chose the strongest arrow in his quiver, and, cutting off
the feathers and the notch, he pared the end until it was level.  Then
gathering some dry leaves and grass straw on the sanded bark, rested the
end of his arrow in the centre, and began to twirl the arrow round with
the palms of his hands with a steady downward pressure.  In a short time
smoke was seen to issue, and, continuing the operation, two or three
sparks of fire shot out among the straw and leaves, which, being blown,
was soon nursed into flame.

"That is how the Watuta obtain their fire," said Kalulu to Abdullah,
with an air of superiority, which the latter thought was quite
pardonable, since Kalulu did really produce a fire on which meat might
be cooked for the benefit of his friend Simba.

"O Selim!  Selim!  O Selim!" cried Kalulu, "haste hither with the meat."

Abdullah, in his impatience to see Simba's jaws at work, reiterated the
cry, "O Selim!  Selim!  O Selim! come with the meat, come quick."

"Coming!" was the answer which that industrious young Arab gave, as he
turned his face toward the group with a shoulder of eland meat on his
back.

"Now, Niani, haste to get more.  Think of poor Simba, thy father,
suffering for want of it; there's a good boy, bring plenty," said
Abdullah; while in the meantime Kalulu had chosen an arrow-blade, and
with it was preparing the slender sticks to impale the meat when it
would be cut into kabobs for broiling, and Moto had bound Simba's
wounded knee with bandages made out of Kalulu's loin-cloth, and had
staunched the blood that had been pouring from the wounded hips.  Moto
also set to work at erecting a shed, which might shelter the whole
party, and made a luxurious bed of grass and leaves on to which his
friend was assisted.

Kalulu then, while the meat was broiling, and the most pressing duties
of the camp had been performed, turned to skin the leopard, whose hide,
he thought, would make an admirable loin-covering for himself.

Simba, after he had managed to eat as much of the eland as any two
ordinary men would have eaten, began to feel his strength returned to
him, and said:

"Ah! there is nothing like meat for medicine, after all.  It makes a man
look kinder towards his fellows, and if he has his stomach full there is
nought that he cannot bear.  If I had always plenty of meat in me I
would as soon fight a leopard every day as not; and if I had a good
knife I would be willing to fight a lion rather than run away from him."

Such sentiments, noble and worthy of the great man who spoke them, met
with hearty approbation from his repleted friends, and Moto was of the
opinion that after a stomachful of good meat he might also, if hard
pressed, do damage to either a leopard or a lion.  Selim, following
suit, suggested that he, being but a boy, ought to have his English gun
in his hand before he could be expected to fight a lion or a leopard;
while Abdullah and Niani gravely expressed their fears that if they met
either of those beasts of prey they would think of climbing some tall
tree before doing anything else.

Kalulu, after skinning the leopard, proceeded to spread the hide out on
a piece of spongy sward for the sun to dry it, putting a number of small
pegs around to stretch it.  The leopard, being denuded of his splendid
dress, was not so much an object of fear to little Niani as it had been;
it was no more fearful than a skinned dog would have been, though the
canine teeth still looked formidable.  But knowing the injury it had
caused Simba during life, he could not help seizing the broken
spear-shaft, and belabouring the dead brute with it in a vicious manner,
which no doubt the leopard would have resented, could he have felt the
blows showered on him.  Having taken his fill of this mild revenge,
Niani seized it by the tail and dragged it far out of sight.

The valley wherein these adventures occurred would have been deemed by
our friends exceedingly pretty at any other season, but almost every
other moment the wind drifted great dense masses of rain-cloud across
its face, which completely blurred its beauty, and added more volume to
the streams that constantly poured down the slopes from above.

Safe, however, for the time under their shed, they could contemplate
their little annoyances with liberal philosophy, and could readily adapt
themselves to the circumstances without great sacrifice of comfort.

Simba was too sore to move for two days, but on the third day they broke
their miniature encampment, and continued their journey through the
mountains in a direction nearly north-west.

Tropical mountains are always grand, but during the rainy season their
grandeur is enhanced.  Why?  Because wherever you turn your eyes you see
some pinnacle, or crag, or summit buried in the angry clouds, which are
a dirty grey, and ragged at the edges, but are an impenetrable mass
behind of inky blackness, as if the night had been gathered and
compressed into an enormous black ball ready to be hurled upon the
valleys and plains by some vengeful fury.  These black balls of clouds,
poised upon the topmost mountain, are a feature in Central Africa; they
seem to stand a moment in their precarious position, when a furious
wind, which flurries everything in its way, tears along with a mighty
sound, reaches the monstrous ball, lifts it up a moment above the
mountains, and then hurls it upon the quiet sunlit valleys with
thunder-crash and lightning, and great floods of rain.

These were of daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence, while our travellers
journeyed slowly to where they conceived friends might be found.  Owing
to Simba's wounds, their progress was necessarily slow, and this gave
them ample opportunities to watch the phenomena we have described.

At the end of a week they were not forty miles from the Rungwa Plain,
and at the termination of that period Simba declared he felt as strong
and as well as ever, and the eighth day he led the way as formerly, and
twenty-five miles were marched.

This day's journey brought the travellers to a long, straight, narrow
valley, which was converted through alluvial deposits and vegetable
mould of centuries into a quagmire of extraordinary profundity.  On the
opposite side of the oozy valley to that on which they stood, there was
some cultivation, and in a circular jungle they descried a few huts,
probably a village.  On their side the ground rose up gradually to an
ancient clearing, from which disused roads ramified in all directions,
which were a sufficient evidence that at one time the country was well
populated.

They were striking up one of these roads leading to the old clearing,
called Tongoni in the language of Zanzibar, when an arrow whistled close
to Simba's ear, followed by another and another.

Kalulu's trained ear detected the sound at once, and casting his eyes
hastily around he saw a group of men wearing cloth round their loins,
hidden in a thick bush; how many men he could not tell, nor did he wait
to count them, but shouted to his friends:

"Up, up!  Simba--Moto--up, my brother! up, Niani! run towards that peak
beyond the clearing.  I will follow you.  I shall stop to bring these
fellows out, and to show them how a Mtuta and a chief can fight."

"No," said Simba, "we will not go up without you.  Come with us,
Kalulu."

"Fear not for me, but think of the Arab boys and yourselves.  They
cannot catch me.  Go on to the peak.  Go, Selim, Abdullah; Kalulu begs
of you."

"Let him be, Simba," said Moto; "Kalulu knows what he is about;" and
without waiting to see whether Simba followed him, he snatched hold of
Selim's hand and ran with him up the hill.  Simba followed with Abdullah
and Niani before him.

As soon as he saw his friends start off, Kalulu limped most painfully
towards a tall tree that stood near him, and crawled as if he were
grievously wounded behind it.  But the minute he felt himself safe
behind the tree, he fixed an arrow in his bow, while he held three
others in his left hand.

Kalulu had not to wait a second before six men came from behind the bush
and rushed towards his hiding-place, until they had come within about
fifty yards from the tree, when they surrounded it, and one of them
seeing him, hurled his spear at him.  The spear fell short, about a yard
from the feet of Kalulu, but the boy never made any sign of movement.
Encouraged by his silence, another spear was hurled at him, which just
missed his body, for it fell quivering at his side, not six inches from
him.  Then an assegai, or a long javelin came, and grazed the bark above
his head, and still no answer, from which they surmised that he was
wounded too much to make any reply; but immediately one of them, bolder
than the rest, made a forward leap to advance towards him, Kalulu drew
his bow and sent an arrow through his chest, and before the others could
seek shelter again he had shot another through his side.  Then,
snatching the two spears and assegai which had been thrown at him, the
young chief uttered the Kitutu war-cry and bounded, light as an
antelope, through the thin jungle.

On seeing the lad run the others rose from their shelter and gave chase.
On reaching the top of the rising ground, Kalulu threw himself behind a
thick bush of thorn and waited, with eyes and ears on the alert, and
fingers on his bow-string, until catching sight of the foremost he took
a deliberate aim at him and pierced his throat with an arrow; and,
before a sound could have been uttered by the dying man, he had fixed
his arrow again and was aiming at a fourth, when the fellow turned about
to run, but too late to escape the arrow which, following him, buried
itself up to the feathers in his back.

Emerging from his hiding-place, he retraced his steps, deliberately took
up the arms, the bows and arrows and spears of the two last he had
slain, and seeing the two remaining in full flight, turned round, and
sought his companions, who were anxiously waiting for him on the summit
of the peak.  In a few moments he had come up with them, and they
listened in wonder to his tale, how he had slain four of their enemies,
to which his trophies bore ample testimony.

Simba began accusing himself of cowardice, and everything else that was
bad, when the young chief stopped him, and said:

"Not so, Simba; thou art big and a good target for an arrow; but I am
small and thin, and if there had been twenty I could, by being prudent,
have escaped easily.  None of these people like to come out to the open
to fight, and so long as there was but one to fight they would never
have chased anybody else; and by dodging through the bushes, shooting
the most forward of them, I could have so thinned them that when they
reached us on this peak they would not have been able to take us without
losing many more men, and perhaps losing all.  If we all had been
together those fellows might have killed two or three of us, and whom
could we have spared?--Selim?  Abdullah?  Niani?  No, Simba; thou seest
that I could not have acted otherwise."

"I saw that when you told us to go," said Moto.  "Who of us knows much
about arrows?  Master Selim and Master Abdullah know nothing; Niani is
too small even if he did know.  Simba says he don't, and I am sure I
know but very little compared to a man who all his life has shot with
nothing else but his bow.  Now, with a gun--"

"Ah, yes; if we had but three or four guns," sighed Simba, "thou wouldst
not have been left alone, Kalulu."

"If I had only my English gun here now,--two barrels,--always true--not
one of those men would have escaped," remarked Selim.

"But, my brother, surely only two have escaped as it is," replied
Kalulu, laughing; "and they are too scared to trouble us any more, I
think, though it is time for us to be off before others from the village
on the other side of the valley come after us.  Here is a spear for
thee, Moto; and a spear also for thee, Simba.  I will keep one spear,
and Selim and Abdullah may keep the hows and arrows.  We shall have
something for Niani by-and-by, perhaps."

"I hope not," said Simba, "before we get amongst friends."

This feat of Kalulu's in killing four men raised him highly in Simba's
estimation, and the consequence of it was that he came to pay great
deference to him, far greater than he ever had paid to him before; for
thus far, except that he showed himself capable of bearing great
fatigue, could run well, was lithe and strong for his age, he had looked
upon him as a boy merely.  Now, however, as he turned to seek the deep
woods, on the ridge leading from the peak to the low range of hills
beyond, he furtively eyed him from head to foot, and then shook his
head, muttering to himself; "What is the matter, friend Simba," asked
Kalulu, "that thou dost eye me so, and shake thy head?"

"Thou hast a quick eye, Kalulu; and it is as true as thy wrist and arm.
I have been thinking," he said in a low voice, "that when thou art a few
years older thou wilt be almost as strong as I am now, and that when
thou returnest to thy country, Ferodia will be sorry for what he has
done, for he will find thee a very lion in his way."

"Thou mayst well say that, Simba," said Moto.  "The little boy who
pinned my arm to the shield I held when Kisesa attacked his father's
village, is improved wonderfully.  Wallahi! if he kills four men now
when he is but a boy, how many will he kill when he is a man.  Ferodia
will wish that he had never thought of being king."

"Wait, my friends, wait!  Wait a few moons only; I will show you what
Kalulu can do.  Killing four men is nothing.  I have killed chiefs and
many men in our wars, as Soltali said in his song.  Ferodia shall see
Kalulu's face again; but I do not think it will be as his slave."

"I wonder," said Moto, "what country this is; and what tribe did that
village belong to.  Hast thou any idea, Simba?"

"Not I; I never was here before."

"Dost thou know, I think those were Wazavila too.  They are scattered
everywhere about this country since they were driven from their own by
Simba, son of Mkasiwa, of Unyanyembe.  Ah! that chief is such another as
thou art, Simba.  A lion by name and a lion in war.  He has been the
only one able to punish these thieves of Wazavila."

"In what direction is his country? dost thou know?" asked Simba.

"It ought to be north of where we are--two or three days yet.  He is
chief of a country called Kasera; but we ought to come to the Unyanyembe
road, that goes from Usowa and Fipa, before we reach Kasera."

That night our friends camped near the base of a reddish range of
mountains, by the side of a small stream, and in the morning they
breasted the most feasible part of the range, and made their way with
considerable difficulty through a tangle of bamboo, tiger grass, and
thorn-bush.

Emerging out of the depths of a stony ravine, they at last stood upon
the topmost height of the red mountain range, the colour of which they
perceived came from the vast quantities of haematite of iron, of which
the mountains principally consisted.

By using their observation, they were also enabled to ascertain that
this range was the watershed of the Rungwa River, for it ran so far east
and west that no springs issuing into the plain of the Bungwa could rise
further north of this range, for as far as they saw north the country
trended north and west, while south of the range on which they stood the
country trended west and south.  Moto took this as a good sign of their
approaching Unyamwezi, and raised the spirits of his friends
considerably by delivering this as his opinion.  He also advised that
they should now bend their steps east of north.

After a very long march that day, they camped near a lengthy but shallow
pool in a forest several leagues to the north-east of the red range.
Kalulu thought that, from the numbers of birds about--of fish-eagles,
cranes, pelicans, hornbills, kingfishers, ducks, and curious geese armed
with spurs on their wings, that there must be fish in the pool, and
accordingly took his spear and stationed himself near it.  In a very
short time he saw a movement in the muddy water, and darting the spear
straight for it, brought out of the slimy depths a specimen of the
Lepidosiren, or a bearded mud-fish, weighing about ten or twelve pounds.
His success was hailed with delight by his half-famished comrades, who,
though they had bagged a small antelope since the eland, had been much
stinted in their meat rations lately.  Each member at once constituted
himself a harpoonist; but, excepting Simba and Moto, no luck met the
efforts of the others, as they could never throw their spears straight
downwards, the spear always swerving to one side when near the bottom,
owing to the over-firm hold with which they held their spears.  But the
success of Kalulu, Simba, and Moto proved ample to furnish the entire
party with sufficient for a good supper and breakfast.

They found the meat of the mud-fish very good, though very fat; but
being half-starved, their stomachs were not over delicate.

Continuing their march next day at sunrise, they came to a park-land,
agreeably diversified with noble sycamores, and islets formed by dense
growths of aloetic plants and thorn-bush; and about noon they came to a
well-tramped road, which, after noticing its direction, Moto declared
would take them to the Unyanyembe road.

Inspired by this news, which certainly, after all they had gone through,
was well calculated to produce joyous emotions within them, they tramped
along this road at a rapid rate, and visions of home, though still far
away, came vividly to the minds of the Arab boys, and they unconsciously
pictured their mothers looking out of the lattice-windows of their
homes, ever-gazing towards the continent and ever-wondering where their
absent boys were.

A couple of hours before sunset they arrived in a thin forest.  They
formed their camp, and surrounded it with brushwood to guard against
beasts of prey, and proceeded to warm what fish they had left.  It was
such a very small morsel for hungry men that Kalulu proposed that he
should sally out with his bow and endeavour to pick up something more.
He was strongly dissuaded not to go by Simba and Moto; even Selim and
Abdullah begged him to remain with them, as they could well afford to be
without more food until morning; but Kalulu laughed merrily, and told
them not to be alarmed, he could take good care of himself.  Seeing that
he was determined, they said no more.

As Kalulu left the little camp, he threw out, for a last remark, that
they might expect him shortly back with something fit to eat.  He chose
the road before him--the road that his companions would have to take
next morning.  He looked keenly to the right and the left, searched
every suspicious place, and allowed nothing to escape him.  The thin
forest thinned once more to a small plain sprinkled with dwarf ebony and
a species of blue gum-thorn.  Numbers of ant-hills also dotted the
plain, whose grey tops presented a strong contrast to the young grass of
the plain.  Beyond this loomed a forest thickening again; it was but ten
or twelve minutes walking; success might meet him there, he thought, and
he proceeded towards it, arriving there by smart walking a few minutes
earlier than he anticipated.

He still marched on, hoping that something might meet his eye which
might be broiled over a comfortable fire, and enliven the little society
of wanderers with whom he found himself; and thus arguing with himself,
he proceeded still further.  Suddenly he saw smoke.  There is nothing
specially dangerous in smoke, he thought; but what smoke could this be
in the forest?  There was no cultivation about, therefore it could not
be a village.  What was it?  Kalulu was a true son of the forest--a true
hunter; his instincts were on the alert.  The curious phenomenon of a
smoke in the forest daring the rainy season must be explained.  What
could it be?

He began to glide from tree to tree, from clump to clump; now crouching
behind a wart-hog's mound, that that beast had raised above its burrow,
then wriggling along the grass like a snake, and presently leaping up
with the activity of a leopard, until he drew nearer to the smoke, so
near that he heard voices.

"Voices!"  The very fact of a human voice being heard in the forest,
except his own, had something portentous in it; for had not all voices
lately been those of enemies?  He was ten times more cautious now; and
something like a half-regret for venturing hither came into his mind.
Why had he come so far at all?  Why had he not listened to his brother
Selim and his friends, who begged him not to go out?

He watched from behind the tree, and saw people; men wearing cloth round
their heads, long cloth clothes leading down to their feet, like those
(he heard from Selim often) the Arabs used at Zanzibar.  He listened;
and while trying to distinguish the language heard words such as Selim,
Abdullah, Simba, Moto, and Niani used.  The language was not of the
interior of Africa around Ututa, nor Uzivila, nor Uwemba, surely; and
these people going about the camp in white cloths and long white clothes
were not natives.  He had never heard of any natives wearing such
clothes.  They must be Arabs!  Did not Moto tell him that they were on
the Unyanyembe road, and that they might meet an Arab caravan going to
Fipa, or catch up an Arab caravan going to Unyanyembe from Fipa.  Of
course these were Arabs; people of Simba, and people of Selim, Moto,
Abdullah, and Niani!  They were his friends, since he was a brother of
Selim!

What should he do?  Should he go back at once and gladden the hearts of
his friends with the good news?  Ah! the suggestion came near being
acted upon; but it was not, for immediately it was replaced by another,
"Why not go to them, make thyself known, and they will be good to thee
for Selim's sake?"

Poor boy!  Innocent youth!  He judged all Arabs to be good, like Selim
and Abdullah, and he stepped out of his hiding-place and walked
deliberately to the camp.  He was soon seen, addressed, and invited to
come up to them.

"Hi, Ndgu! njo."  ("Hello, my brother! come here.")

This was a fair beginning, to call him "my brother," the English reader
will think.  Not at all; it is an ordinary hail to a stranger, in the
same way that "Rafiki," my friend, is.  But Kalulu advanced, and many
men--probably thirty--hurried to meet him.  Three men, apparently chiefs
of the party--but they were not white, like Selim or Abdullah--were
talking together as he came up to them.

The oldest of them--marked with the small-pox, a man with very small
eyes--who had a light bamboo cane in his hand, turned towards him, and
asked him who he was, where he came from, what he was doing in the
forest all alone, to which Kalulu answered as well as he was able in
broken Kisawhili--the coast language--smiling all the time, and wishing
he would testify some pleasure at seeing him.  The man turned round to
his companions, and talked with them rapidly a language he did not
understand, but it was horribly guttural.  It was Arabic; and as the
harsh words were heard Kalulu almost shuddered.  The man with the stick
pointed to Kalulu often, the others nodded, apparently agreeing with
what the pock-marked, small-eyed chief said.

The chief Arab--he was not an Arab, but a half-caste, half-negro,
half-Arab--sat down and pointed to Kalulu to seat himself by him.  This,
thought Kalulu, was friendly; and in pure guilelessness he asked him:

"Are ye Arabs?"

"Certainly.  Mashallah!  What did you take us for?" replied the chief.

"I don't know.  I thought ye were Arabs, but I was not sure."

Then Kalulu looked round, more at home.  In one corner of the camp he
saw a large gang of slaves, chained and padlocked safe.  No chance of
running for any of those, he thought.  Simba could not break that chain,
nor any of the strong iron padlocks which confined each collar.

He was about to ask another question, when, without warning, without the
least suspicion having been raised in his mind, he was pounced upon by
half-a-dozen men from behind and disarmed.  The slave-gang was brought
up close to him, an iron collar was handed to the chief, who encircled
the young neck of Kalulu with it, slipped an iron loop over the folding
crescents, introduced a strong padlock into a staple after it, locked
it, and then stood up to survey his captive.  He nodded to the men who
had hold of him.  They released him, and the boy stood up, and the
captor and captive looked at each other.

"Did ye not tell me ye were Arabs?"

"We are Arabs," answered the chief, laughing at his simplicity.

"Then if ye are Arabs, what does this violence mean?"

"It means you are my slave."

"Slave!  I a slave?"

"Certainly, and worth over fifty dollars at Zanzibar."

"I a slave!  Do you know Selim?"

"Selim?  What Selim?  I know plenty of Selims."

"My Selim.  Only my Selim.  A white Arab boy, of my size?"

"What of him?"

"He is my brother."

"Your brother!  A white Arab boy your brother.  Dog of a pagan!"

"The blood ceremony was entered into between us.  I am the King of the
Watuta."

"You a king of the Watuta!  Ha! ha! ha!  We have plenty of kings with
us.  Do you see that woman before you?  She is a queen in Uwemba.  Kings
sell well.  If you were king of all the devils, and brother to all the
Arab Selims, you are my slave now, and the likeliest, best looking I
ever had.  I will not part with you under one hundred dollars.  Wallahi!
There, go.  Men, take them away.  Strike camp.  He for the sofari"
(journey.)

"But listen, chief, I am not your slave.  Let me go.  Simba and Selim
will be angry with you if you keep me.  Let me go, chief.  Oh! let me go
to the camp; it is right close here."

"Silence!  No words, not one word.  You are my slave.  Arabs know how to
keep slaves.  For the bad slaves there is a yoke-tree, besides chains.
Be wise, and keep silence.  You shall go to Zanzibar with that chain
around your neck; if you are bad, you shall go with the yoke-tree around
your neck.  For those slaves who talk too much we have sticks.  Be wise,
I tell you.  Drive the gang on, men."

Kalulu was desperate; the blood rushed to his head; he got furious.  His
senses and feelings were one wild riot.  He could not describe how or
why he leaped with frantic energy at the villain.  He was possessed with
fury.  He therefore struck at him, caught hold of him, tried to beat his
brains out with his chain, and would have done it, no doubt, or so
bruised his features that they would have become undistinguishable; but
he now had to deal with clever men, who knew what the spasmodic,
despairing energy of slaves newly captured was.  Before he had given the
man more than three blows he was dragged off, kicked, pounded, cuffed,
bruised, and almost strangled.  Then a systematic flogging took place;
such a flogging that a villainous half-caste, enraged, would be likely
to give, while he fought with all his might, and gave half-a-dozen of
them work enough to hold him.  When the punishment was over, he was not
left to meditate upon his position, but was marched off in the direction
of Unyanyembe, the last of the slave-gang!

The Arabs were about making what they call a "tiri-kesa"--that is, an
evening journey--in order to reach water before noon next day, by which
time they would probably have made a march of thirty miles.  They had
camped deep in the woods, about half a mile from the road.  Had it not
been for the smoke of their fires, Kalulu would never have seen them,
probably.  When once their fires went out it would be difficult for
anybody to know that a slave-gang had been there, or that such a cruel
deed as the kidnapping of Kalulu had ever taken place.  If the Arabs but
continued their journey until noon, and started again at night, and left
no trace behind, how would it be possible for those who would seek
Kalulu to find a trace of him?

What a change of feeling came over the outraged youth!  What a sudden
and complete transformation was this!  He left a camp of Arabs to enter
another.  In one, he was beloved, esteemed, idolised; in the other, he
was a slave, beaten like a dog, chained!  In one camp the Arabs were
good, kind, brotherly; in the other, they were robbers, kidnappers,
enslavers, villains.  In one camp he esteemed, he admired, he loved; in
another, he brooded over his injuries, and he hated with all the hate
with which one wronged is able to hate.

If he was treated so harshly at the beginning of his slavery; if he was
the victim of such damnable atrocity as that which he had suffered, by
what rule or system could be measured that which he would have to suffer
before he reached Zanzibar; and at Zanzibar, with that iron collar
perpetually about his neck, how could he ever advantage himself?  Would
there ever be an end to the indescribable misery he suffered now?  Had
he parted for ever from freedom and friendship?  Would there ever be
hope for him more?

These were the thoughts that filled his mind as he was marched off to
slavery with that inflexible iron collar about his neck, and the horrid
chain swinging from one side to the other, with that long file of slaves
before him, and the long file of flinty kidnappers behind him.

Ah! poor Kalulu!  Thou art but one of the thousands upon thousands of
wretched men, women, and children who have trodden that road to its
present hardness and smoothness; whose wild delirious thoughts have
never found speech as thine have; whose hopeless looks have never been
portrayed in any book; whose silent prayers have never seen the light,
nor have been rehearsed in any hall where kind Christian men and women
would hear them and commiserate their sufferings; whose indescribable
agonies have never been touched upon by a kindly pen!  But go thou on to
slavery, as the thousands who have gone before thee, until English
readers shall meet with thee again!



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE ALARM OF KALULU'S FRIENDS--THE SEARCH FOR KALULU--O KALULU,
KALULU!--SHALL WE NEVER MORE SEE KALULU?--ONLY TREES, TREES, TREES--
KALULU IS LOST!--THE MARCH TO UNYANYEMBE--WHY COME YE IN THIS GUISE,
CHILDREN?--AMONG FRIENDS AT LAST!--SELIM AND ABDULLAH IN ARAB COSTUME--
THE LION LORD'S CITY--HOME AGAIN!--SELIM EMBRACES HIS MOTHER--KALULU
DISCOVERED!--THE SLAVE-MARKET.  HOW MUCH FOR KALULU?--KALULU RESTORED TO
HIS FRIENDS--KALULU INTRODUCED TO ABDULLAH'S MOTHER--MY KALULU!

Returning to the camp of our friends, we find the sun has set, and
darkness is settling fast over the earth.  Simba stands at the gate of
the camp with an anxious face, for his young friend Kalulu has not yet
returned.  Moto, Selim, and Abdullah are just within waiting, and
listening eagerly for the slightest sound of footsteps.

"What can be the matter with the boy?  Dost thou think he could get
lost, Moto?" asked Simba.

"No; Kalulu could not lose himself if he tried.  He has slain something,
and is coming with a heavy load of meat, so as not to make two journeys.
It takes the like of Kalulu to know how to kill game."

"I wish he had not gone away," said Selim, "because it would be a pity
if he came to harm when we are so close to friends."

"What harm can happen to him about here, except from a lion or a
leopard?  But if he met either beast I would set Kalulu against him.
There are plenty of trees about here for him to climb up, and I should
like to see the monkey that would excel him in climbing," said Moto.

Still the night grew deeper and deeper, and the anxiety of the friends
increased.

"What road did he take; dost thou know, Moto?" asked Simba.

"I think he took the Unyanyembe road; but he may have gone after
something in the forest.  If he saw any game he would not be likely to
remain in the road.  He would go after it, of course," replied Moto.

"Well, I am going to look for him.  Wilt thou come?  The boys can keep a
good fire up to let us know where the camp is," said Simba.

"What a soft fellow thou art, Simba!  Dost thou not know that in the
night we can do nothing to hunt him up, when he may be anywhere but in
the place where we are looking for him?  If we had a gun we might signal
him; but by going out in this darkness we would only tire ourselves to
no purpose.  If Kalulu has been taken too far away by following an
antelope or something else, the boy has a thousand ways of passing the
night.  He could sleep in a tree-bough, in a hollow tree, or in the
burrow of a wild boar, just as well as he could sleep in the camp.  I am
no hunter like Kalulu, yet I could do it, for I have been lost many
times in the woods.  What we must do, is to sleep in the camp to-night,
and the first thing at daybreak we two shall go different roads, and
wake all the country round with our cries."

"Thou art wiser than I am, Moto, yet it is very hard.  If any harm comes
to him, I shall always accuse myself for a poor silly fellow who did not
know how to take care of a boy.  I am sorry I did not stop him, for
something tells me harm has come to him.  I would I knew where he was.
I would soon see whether a good friend at his back could help him or
not.  We shall rest here until daybreak, and may Allah grant that we
find him!"

"Amen, and amen," responded the Arab boys fervently.

At break of day Simba woke his friends.  He had not slept a wink, though
he had lain down.  With a heart that had palpitated violently at every
sound, he had lain listening acutely to every noise that broke the
silence.  It might have been a light-footed antelope, or the rustling of
a fan palm, or the fall of a branch, or the shuffling feet of a hyaena,
yet each of these, as he heard it, had inspired a momentary hope that it
was the footstep of the returning Kalulu.

Simba was impatient to be off and to use his strong lungs; and when the
sun was up, he was brusque in speech to Moto, when he said:

"Come, man, art thou never going to stir?  Let us be off.  Which way
wilt thou take, south or north?"

"Oh, any road will do for me; do thou take the south, I will walk
towards the north, and let each of us strike towards the east.  We must
be back by noon, for if Kalulu is not here by then, and neither of us
have found him, then he is--"

"What, Moto?" said Selim, now really alarmed.  "Oh, do not say he is
lost!  We must find him.  We cannot give him up.  I will go along the
Unyanyembe road as far as I can, and return here by noon."

"Young master," said Simba, "don't go away from this camp, I beg of
thee.  To lose Kalulu is as much as I can bear; but if thou art lost
too, then may all the bad things of this earth happen to me, I do not
care how soon."

"But, dear good Simba, it is now day.  I cannot be lost, for I will not
leave the road.  Whilst thou and Moto go north and south, I will take
the eastern road, and after going two hours on the road, I shall return
along the road to the camp.  Who knows what has happened to my brother
Kalulu?  He may be wounded, and I may find him waiting for us.  He has
done enough for me; I ought to risk something on my part for him.  I
shall go, Simba--there.  Abdullah and Niani shall stay in the camp to
watch."

"Well, well, as thou wilt.  Thou art master here, and wherever I be.
Come, Moto, let us be off."

"Now, Simba," said Selim, running up to him, "thou art angry with me.
Seest thou not it is but my duty to search for him?  Is it nothing, what
Kalulu has done for me all these months?  Be good, Simba, as thou hast
always been to me.  Let me go without feeling that thou art offended
with me."

"Nay, go, my young master, and Allah go with thee.  Simba knows not much
about Allah; but Simba, while he looks for Kalulu, will pray to him to
be kind to thee, and look after thy safety.  Come, Moto, let us go."

"God be with thee, Simba, and with thee, Moto," cried Selim, as he
turned to depart.

"And with thee also," replied Simba and Moto, as they strode off in
their several directions.

Soon Abdullah and Niani, left alone in the camp, heard the shouts at
intervals of each of their friends as they wandered off--

"Kalulu!  O Kalu-lu!  Ka-luuu-luu!" was the cry they heard repeated
until the sounds were lost by distance.

Selim strode on, uttering the name of his lost friend over and over.  He
made the thin forest ring with its liquid sounds until he fancied that
every tree lent its aid to cry out the sweet name.

"O Kalulu--Kalulu--Ka-luu-luu-u!" was uttered on the desolate plain
among the dwarf ebony and blue gum.  The thick forest beyond was
reached, and here again the stunted woods re-echoed to the name of
"Kalulu."  There was no reply.  There was not the slightest trace of any
Kalulu in the grim solitude.  The forest was as calm and silent as
though no one had ever ventured within its gloom since it grew.  He
looked down on the road; the road was smooth and compact, though now and
then he thought he saw traces of human toes; but there were so many of
them, one person could never have made so many marks with the toes of
his feet.  Was it not the road on which caravans journeyed to
Unyanyembe?

After he had gone many miles through the forest, Selim began to retrace
his steps towards the camp, but still shouting the beloved name of
"Kalulu;" but there was no reply to it, and sorrow, alarm, and gloom
settled down on his heart, and in this state he reached the camp, a
little before noon, to wait the arrival of Simba and Moto.

His friends soon returned, as unsuccessful as he, without having seen
the slightest trace of him whom they now began to lament as a lost
friend.

The sorrows of Kalulu's friends were deep.  Selim wept copious tears,
and all his imagination could not lighten the gloom he felt over the
fate of his friend and adopted brother, who had been so good to him; no
fancy could alleviate for one instant the overwhelming misery that the
unexplained absence of Kalulu now caused.  Continually he asked himself
what could have befallen him, but all in vain.  He had gone away in the
full vigour of his youth; his lithe, slender, but sinewy form seemed so
indurated and so protected against all mischances by the clever head to
plan, the muscular arm to execute, and the clean-shaped limbs and swift
feet to run, that he appeared invulnerable.  And he had gone away
smiling, but since then there was no clue, and his imagination and fancy
were paralysed.

Selim turned to Moto, and asked:

"Oh, if thou canst give me the slightest hope that I shall see Kalulu
again, I will bless thee?"

"I can't think of anything.  A lion may have followed him and sprang on
him, and carried him away bodily--though it is unlikely.  A buffalo may
have gored him, and left him dead.  Savage men may have found him and
made him a captive; though as this is a `polini' (a wilderness) I don't
see how men could be here.  Thou knowest what he has done already, how
quick and cunning he was with his arm and feet.  He was a true son of
the forest; and if danger and death overtook him, it must have been very
sudden."

"What dost thou think, Simba?" asked Selim.

"I can't think of anything, young master, except that he is not here,
and we don't know what has become of the brave young chief without whose
aid none of us would have been so far on our way home;" and the
generous-hearted man wept aloud, and his weeping had a sad effect on
all.

"And shall we see--never more see Kalulu?" sobbed Abdullah; "never more
see him who saved me from the jaws of the monster in the Liemba, who
freed us from bondage, who was our friend and brother, who has been
everything to us, the kindest, best, the noblest Pagan child that ever
breathed?"

"He who saved me from death in the forest, who made me his brother, and
stood by me through many troubles--who on my account threatened Ferodia,
and from that lost his kingdom--with whom I have roamed through plain
and forest, and have talked so often with as a brother--the dearest and
best brother I can ever have!" cried Selim.

"Stay, young masters, do not give way to such tears.  Kalulu may not be
lost.  He may return to the camp this afternoon.  I am going out now to
look for him again, and to see if I cannot get something for us to eat,"
cried Moto.  "Meantime, hope; stranger things than his return have
happened."

The boys and Simba looked their gratitude, as, next to Kalulu, they knew
that Moto was the best woodsman of the party.  Moto strode off in the
direction of the Unyanyembe road.

At night he returned, bringing on his back a fat young antelope, and
news which made all start.

Said he, while he and Simba turned to prepare some of the meat: "I went
along the same road that master Selim went this morning.  I crossed a
`mbuga' (small plain), and came to a thick forest.  Soon after entering
the wood I saw on the left-hand side of the road a yellow heap of earth
which a wild boar had made above his burrow.  I went up to it, and what
do ye think I saw?--the marks of two feet of a boy.  They were small and
narrow, not broad and large, like a man's foot--Simba's or mine--would
be.  They must have been Kalulu's.  He had jumped on that yellow mound,
for the toes had sunk deeper in than the heels.  I went on, where the
leaves had been disturbed, but all marks were soon lost.  However, I
went further on in that direction, and in about half an hour I came to a
camp, not fenced round, but where fires had been kindled.  The ashes
below the surface were slightly warm.  If Kalulu is anywhere, I feel
sure that Kalulu is with those people.  But who are those people?  Are
they Waruga-ruga (bandits)?  Are they Wanyamwezi?  Are they natives?
Are they Arabs?  This is a `polini' (wilderness); there is no village
near here.  Where have those people gone to?"

"Let us go on, then, and find out; let us follow this road until we come
to some village where we can ask?" said Simba.

"Yes, yes," said Selim, "let us go."

"I am ready now," said Abdullah.

"Wait, young master, and thou, Simba.  Eat first as much as ye can, then
we can go," said Moto, in the tone of one who knew what he was about.

In an hour a full meal had been despatched, and about an hour before
sunset they started towards Unyanyembe; but before they reached the camp
which had excited Moto's attention it was dark, and prudence insisted on
them stopping there.

All kinds of suggestions were made as to Kalulu's fate, and they fondly
called up, by retrospective glances at the past few months, all they
knew concerning Kalulu, all he had done, his amiability, his kindness of
heart, and the generous character of the young chief, until each sighed
for morning.

There was but little sleep that night, and the next morning they were
early afoot on the road.  The narrow path which they trod led to
Unyanyembe, and had been tramped to hardness and compactness.  It ran
around bushes; sometimes it went straight ahead; then it made great
curves like a lengthy brown serpent.  There seemed no end to the road or
to the forest.  It was ever woods, woods, woods, in their front--woods
to the right of them, woods to the left of them, woods behind them, and
not a sign of cultivation or of population anywhere.  Only trees, trees,
trees.  Trees of all kinds--the candelabra kolqual, the prickly cactus,
spear-leafed aloes, thorn-bushes, gummy woods, silk-cotton trees,
sycamores, mimosa, plane, or the silvery chenar, tamarinds, wild
fruit-trees, but no fields or villages.

Darkness coming on at fall of day, they sought a place to make their
camp.

Another day dawned, and again they were on the road; the forest thinned
into park-land--the park-land gave place to a sterile bit of
chalky-coloured plain--the plain was succeeded by a thin forest--the
thin forest by a jungle--the jungle by a plain again, and still there
was no sign of living man or of men.  They seemed to be the only
inhabitants living in the world.  Yet the road still ran before them in
serpentine curves and long, straight stretches.

At night they rested again near a broad river.  They were eking out
their meat as much as they could, and at dawn they continued their
march.  At noon they saw fields of young corn, and beyond the yellow
tops a village, and when they came to it they saw natives standing
outside the gate.

"Ho, my brothers, health to ye!" cried Moto.

"Health, health to ye!" was the response.

"What country is this?"

"Manyara."

"Manyara!" cried Moto, astonished.

"Yes, and Ma-Manyara is king."

"Why, then, Unyanyembe is not far from here?"

"About nine days off."

"Was not that the Gombe River we passed?"

"Yes, if you came from Ukonongo along the road."

"We did.  We have been hunting, and have had a misfortune on the road.
We are going to Unyanyembe.  What news?"

"Ah!  Good news.  Manwa Para is dead."

"Dead, is he?  Have ye seen a caravan lately going by here towards
Unyanyembe?"

"No--none for many days."

"Health, health to ye, my friends!"

"Health, health!" was the response.

Our friends strode on until they got beyond the cultivation and were
deep in the forest again, when Moto turned round and said:

"Kalulu is lost!"

"Lost!  Oh, Moto! must we give him up for ever?" asked Selim.

"I fear so.  I thought that caravan belonged to Arabs.  If they were
Arabs they would have come this way, and those people at the gate would
have seen them.  But I think now that camp belonged to the Waruga-ruga
(bandits).  And where have they gone to?  Are they from Ugala or
Ukonongo?  Were those people Wazavila or wild Wanyamwezi?  They were not
Arabs, or they would have come this way.  We are too far away to go
back, and we might hunt for Kalulu years and years among the tribes
about here without finding him.  The bandits kill all men as soon as
they catch them, if they cannot make slaves of them.  They are never
seen.  They are everywhere, but nowhere when ye desire to see them.  No;
Kalulu is lost, and unless we want to lose ourselves, we must go on to
Unyanyembe."

This was a sudden shock to the Arab boys and to Simba.  They had
nourished a lively hope that their friend might be found, but they were
now sternly told that their friend was "lost."

"Poor Kalulu!" said Selim.  "He is not lost to me.  I will build him
up--from his feet to his head, with all his fine high courage, quick,
generous temper, and his warm heart, in my memory, where he shall dwell
as the noblest and best I have ever met.  Until I die I shall remember
him as the truest friend and kindest brother."

"And so shall I, Selim," said Abdullah.  "Thou and I shall often talk of
him as one to whom there was no equal in worth.  When we meet our
mothers, we shall remember his name as one without whom they never would
have seen us again, and our mothers shall bless him.  His memory shall
be to me like a plant nightly watered by the dew of heaven, never to
die, and whenever I hear his name mentioned I will pray that I may be
like him.  For Kalulu's sake, all black people who call me master shall
be well treated, and shall never be abused."  As he said these words,
little Abdullah wept copiously, as the worth of his friend rose so
vividly before him.

"And I make a vow," said Selim, "for my brother's sake, never to
purchase a slave for my service while I live; and when I die my slaves
shall all be free.  No black man in my service shall have cause to
regret that I met with Kalulu in Africa; but they shall rejoice, and
know that their treatment is due to Kalulu alone, that they may sing his
praises under my palms and mangoes."

"Allah be with ye both!" cried Simba.  "If all Arabs were like ye, the
Arab name would become beloved throughout all the tribes of the
Washensi."  [Pagans.]

"Ay, so it would," said Moto; "so it would; and the people of our race
and colour would not be bought like sheep and goats, and driven with
sticks to the market to be sold.  A great wrong is done by the Arabs
every day in this country, and it is no wonder that the tribes treat
them badly when they can.  Tifum treated Masters Selim and Abdullah
cruelly, because he heard that they did the some to the black people.
We, thou, and I, Simba, should not have been so good as we are had any
other than Sheikh Amer bin Osman been our master."

"I believe thee, Moto," replied Simba.  "We would not be going back to
Zanzibar either, if noble Amer's son was other than he is.  Master Selim
is the best Arab living.  Prince Madjid's sons are worthless, compared
to my young master.  But let us go to Unyanyembe, before some evil
overtakes Selim and Abdullah, and we have no hope of pleasure left to us
more."

Moto started at the suggestion of evil to his young master, and at once
put his best foot forward, until they came to a plain, where he strove
to obtain an additional supply of meat, and was so successful with his
arrows, that he brought down a zebra.

The march to Unyanyembe lasted fifteen days longer, owing to the lack of
the cheery presence of Kalulu, and to the frequent stoppages they had to
make to procure food, and to nourish their strength; but on the morning
of the sixteenth day, the well-known features of the hills around the
Arab settlements greeted the eyes of Moto and Simba, who had seen them
before.  To their left rose the table hill of Zimbili, at their base
were the Arab houses of Maroro, and stretching nearer to them, was the
fertile basin of Kwihara; and soon rose before them the Arab houses of
Sayd bin Salim, Abdullah bin Sayd, Sheikh Nasib, and of the redoubtable
Kisesa.  But passing by these, and walking rapidly along a road which
led through Kisiwani, and between two hills which separate Kwihara from
the larger settlement of the Arabs, the great tembes of Tabora greeted
them, each surrounded by plantains and pomegranate trees.

Upon asking some of the people who were passing from Tabora to Kwihara--
and who stared at Selim and Abdullah as if they had never seen Arabs
before--who lived at Tabora, they were given a long list of names, and
among these was the name of Sultan bin Ali!

"Where does he live?" asked Selim.

"Yonder, by that big tree.  The first tembe ye come to."

Selim and Abdullah gave a shout of joy, in which they were joined by
Moto, Simba, and Niani, and as they passed on, Selim proposed that they
should break in upon the old man suddenly, who would no doubt be found
on his verandah, chatting with half-a-dozen other Arabs.

In a few minutes--minutes that were never counted, but which glided by
swiftly--they found themselves pushing their way through crowds of
well-dressed Zanzibar slaves, who looked upon the Arab boys with
surprise, mingled with awe, but who made way for them immediately, but
eyeing them as if they had never seen Arabs.

Selim and Abdullah passed on, however, and came at last before the
spacious tembe.  They saw the white-bearded Sheikh, seated with his back
to the wall, leaning on a pillow which was covered with gay print.  On
each side of him sat several other Arabs.  All started up as they saw
the strange Arab boys, undressed and naked, with the exception of ragged
pieces of dirty cloth about their loins, walk up to them, and heard the
unmistakable Arabic of Muscat, as the boys said:

"Salaam Aleekum!"  (Peace be to ye.)

"Aleekum Salaam!"  (and unto ye be peace), responded the startled Arabs,
rising to their feet.

"Are ye Arabs, children?" said the old Sultan bin Ali, gazing at them
sternly.

"We are children of the Arabs of Muscat," answered Selim, with a
tremulous voice.

"How is it, then, in the name of Allah," said the aged Sheikh, "that ye
come in this guise, naked, into the presence of true believers?"

"Our fathers are dead.  They were rich merchants of Zanzibar.  They were
slain in battle, and we, their sons, were made slaves.  After many
months we have escaped--praised be Allah for his mercies!--and have
sought ye, our kinsmen."

"Slain in battle!" echoed the Sheikh.  "Who are ye?  In what battle were
your fathers slain?"

"This," said Selim, pointing to Abdullah, "is Abdullah, son of Sheikh
Mohammed bin Mussoud; I am Selim, son of Amer, son of Osman; thou art
Sultan, the son of Ali, my kinsman and friend."

"Oh, blessed be the compassionate God!  Praised be the Lord of all
creatures--the most merciful, the King of the Judgment-day!" cried the
aged Sultan, as he rushed to Selim and Abdullah, and brought them
together, and embraced them both at once, and kissed their foreheads,
and would not release them for a moment, but continued to pour his
kisses on their faces, and endearing terms into their ears, while hot
tears poured down his cheeks as he said, looking at them with a memory
which carried him and them to that fatal day in Urori, "And thou art
Selim, the son of noble Amor, my kinsman! and this is Abdullah, son of
Mohammed!  Ah, wondrous are the ways of God, and merciful is He to true
believers!  I see Amer and Mohammed in your eyes, children; how came I
to forget that fatal day of Kwikuru?  But enter, children.  Enter, in
the name of the Most High.  Amer's kinsman cannot forget his duties to
Amer's son!"

But the other Arabs could not permit Sultan, son of Ali, to take the
boys away without being permitted to embrace them, and while scalding
tears fell down their cheeks, they cried out, "Blessed is the Most High,
the merciful and compassionate God!" and poured their congratulations
into the ears of the escaped captives.

Before quite going in at the door of the tembe, Selim turned to Sheikh
Sultan and said:

"Sultan, son of Ali, let not the son of Amer be called ungrateful.  Lo!
here are my friends.  Thou hast not thanked them for what they have done
to us.  This is Simba, and this is Moto!  Dost thou not know them?"

"Ah, who does not know Simba and Moto?" said the old man, as he rushed
at them and gave them a warm embrace, and kissed, out of pure gratitude,
those rugged and dusky men of Africa.  "Enter, men, in the name of God.
Command the kinsman of Amer, what ye will eat, and drink.  But who is
this little fellow--thy son, Simba?"

"No, Sheikh Sultan; he is Niani, Master Amer's slave."

"Is he the little fellow who used to play tricks upon Isa, son of Thani,
Selim?"

"The same."

"Come, child, to an old man's arms!" said he, as he caught him up, and
gave him a warm kiss.

Simba, and Moto, and Niani found themselves embraced by the other Arabs
in turn, and Sultan bin Ali's slaves, hearing who they were, came
rushing up by the dozen to embrace their friends, whom they had given up
as lost for ever, on that fearful day, when four hundred Arabs and their
people met with such a sad fate.

But Sultan bin Ali, seeing them thus engaged, turned to his slaves, and
bade them prepare the best at once for food, and then ushered Selim and
Abdullah to his own cosy, carpeted room, and, inviting them to rest a
moment, hastened out again to an Arab of middle age, named Soud bin
Sayd, who was seated on his verandah, and said to him:

"Soud bin Sayd, thou hast two sons of the same age as these boys.
Hasten, my friend, bring two dresses for these children--the best thou
hast--name thy price for them, but bring them."

"Do not name price.  Sheikh, thou hast them.  I will but mount thy
riding-ass and be back before thou canst say, Bismillah!" and the
good-hearted man hurried off as he said it.

Then Sultan bin Ali called to his barber, and bade him bring his basin
and razors directly to him, then joined the young.  Arab boys, who had
been weeping continually for joy, fast locked in each other's arms.

The barber soon came, and Sultan told him to shave off the boys' hair,
which was grown almost to their shoulders.  Before the depilatory
process was completed, Soud bin Sayd had returned with two complete
dresses--shirts, handsome embroidered dishdashehs (robe), and
embroidered skull-caps, two fine blue cloth damirs (jackets),
wide-flowing linen drawers, and slippers.

Then, excusing the barber of the kind-hearted Soud, Sultan ushered the
boys into the lavatory with their new dresses, where there was abundance
of water, soap, and towels for them; and after telling them, when
dressed, to come out to him and his friends on the verandah, he closed
the door on them, and joined the Arabs, who were still in a high state
of excitement, consequent upon the unexpected appearance of the Arab
boys, and their marvellous escape from slavery.

"Sultan, son of Ali," said Soud bin Sayd, "this is a great day."

"Thou mayst well say so.  How rejoiced the widows of Amer and Mohammed
will be, and Leila, who is to be Selim's wife when he gets old enough!
My friends, ye must join me in eating the noon-day meal with the poor
children, that they may feel that they are among kinsmen and friends
once more.  Poor boys! what they must have suffered!  But there is a
great deal to be told yet; we shall hear their story presently.  I am
glad ye are here to welcome them with me."

"It is wonderful!--wonderful!  I feel impatient to hear all they have to
say," said a swarthy-faced young Arab of about twenty-five.

Within half-an-hour the two Arab boys, Selim and Abdullah, came from
their room, dressed, and so changed they could barely be recognised as
the wild-looking, long-haired boys who had so electrified the old man
with their unpresentable appearance.  Selim came first, Abdullah behind,
the Arabs rising respectfully as they came near, the former advancing to
Sheikh Sultan, with his handsome face all aglow at the change he felt in
him, took hold of the old man's right hand, and raised it respectfully
to his lips, and went on to the other Arabs to do the same to them, but
they would not permit this, but saluted him on the cheek, as well as
Abdullah.

The Sultan bin Ali invited the boys to the seat of honour near him, and
had pillows brought for them, so they would not feel chilled by contact
with the wall, and invited Selim to tell his story, with which he at
once complied, and gave them a succinct but brief account of all that
happened to them from the battle-day to their appearance at Unyanyembe.
He never had such an attentive audience before in his life.  The Arabs
were deeply interested in it, and often broke out into exclamations,
which showed the two Arab boys that they were really amongst friends at
last.  Kalulu received great praise, and Sultan bin Ali expressed his
fears that the boy was either murdered or carried into hopeless
captivity and slavery.

Presently food was brought in such quantities that made the hungry boys
stare; one dish was expressly for Simba, Moto, and Niani, who were
called from among their friends to partake of it.  Water was poured over
each person's right hand, and as Selim and Abdullah saw the great dish
of snowy rice, and the dish of curried meat, they could not help
uttering one great long sigh of satisfaction.  Sultan assisted the boys
to the best portions, placed more curry over their rice than he placed
over any other, though he did not neglect his guests.  Then hulwa
(sweetmeats) and sweet cakes were brought, with honey, and the boys were
continually urged to eat, until they at last declared that they had had
enough.

The next day the two Arab boys were taken to all the tembes of Tabora,
Kwihara, and Maroro, where they were heartily received by everybody, and
were invited to feasts, which followed one another in quick succession,
until, at the end of a month, Selim and Abdullah had fed so well that
they got quite rotund in figure, and appeared none the worse for their
privations.

After two months' stay at Unyanyembe, Selim and Abdullah were placed in
charge of Soud bin Sayd, who was bound for the coast with a caravan
consisting of two hundred slaves, loaded with ivory.  Sultan bin Ali and
a dozen other Arabs accompanied Selim and Abdullah as far as Kwikuru,
three miles from Tabora, and after fervently blessing them, and wishing
them all sorts of success, and a long-lived happiness, parted from them
with saddened faces.

Tura, on the frontier of Unyamwezi, was reached within five days, and
crossing the wilderness of Tura they merged in New Ukimbu.  Within three
weeks afterwards they were travelling through arid Ugogo, which they
passed safely in two weeks; then the friendly wilderness of the Bitter
Water--Marenga M'kali--burst upon their view, and the next day, after a
march of thirty miles, they were defiling by the cones of Usagara.

Continuing their march, ten days more brought them to the Makata Plain,
and on the eighth day after leaving Usagara they camped near
Simbamwenni, or the "Lion Lord's" city, which both Selim and Abdullah
remembered as the scene where Niani had a disagreeable incident with
Isa.  Poor Isa! he is dead.

After a rest of two days at Simbamwenni, the caravan of Soud bin Sayd
continued its march, and on the seventieth day from Unyanyembe the Arab
boys, Selim and Abdullah, and their friends, Simba, Moto, and Niani,
looked at the sea of Zanj, from the ridges behind Bagamoyo, and pointed
out its ever-smiling azure face to one another with emotions too great
for utterance.  They feasted their eyes on it until they lost sight of
it, as they plunged into the depths of the umbrageous groves and gardens
of the sea-coast town of Bagamoyo, into the streets of which they
presently emerged, to be welcomed, as wanderers generally are, with glad
cries, embraces, smiling countenances, and hearty claspings of the hand.

The next day Soud bin Sayd embarked his caravan in two Arab ships, and
accompanied by the young Arabs and their friends he had the anchor
hoisted, and the lateen sails sheeted home, and the ships began to move,
as they felt the influence of the continental breeze, towards Zanzibar,
across the strait which separates Zanzibar from the mainland.

"Moving towards home!--glorious thought!" cried the enraptured Selim, as
he turned towards his friend Abdullah, and fell on his neck overpowered
by his feelings.

"Home!" said Abdullah, "at last!  We have been frequently tried, Selim,
but we have been taught good lessons.  Thanks be to Allah!  He has been
but trying us, to make us better and purer, and I mean to profit by what
I have learned.  Wilt thou, Selim?"

"With the help of God, I will," he replied.

"Dost thou know what chapter of the Kuran fits our case better than any
other, Selim?" asked Abdullah.

"Which?"

"That entitled the Brightness, wherein the Prophet, blessed be his name!
says: `_By the sun in his meridian splendour, by the shades of night,
thy Lord hath not forsaken thee, neither doth He hate thee.  Did He not
find thee an orphan, and did He not take care of thee?  And did He not
find thee wandering in error, and hath He not guided thee into the
truth?  And did He not find thee needy, and hath He not enriched thee?
Wherefore oppress not the orphan, nor repulse the beggar, but declare
the goodness of thy Lord_.'"

"Beautiful!" said Selim; "oppress not the orphan may mean oppress not
the slave.  He found us fatherless, and He took care of us.  He found us
needy, ailing, perishing in the wilderness, and He hath enriched us.
Praised be God, the one God, the eternal God, He begetteth not, neither
is He begotten; and there is not any one like Him."

"Amen! and Amen!" responded Abdullah.  "There is only one God, who is
God, and Mohammed is His Prophet."

"Amen! and Amen!" exclaimed Simba and Moto, who were as powerfully
affected by their present and coming happiness as were either Selim or
Abdullah.

The shores of Zanzibar at last were seen to rise from the sea, like an
emerald set in the centre of a circular sapphire, and the lovely isle
was hailed by vociferous shouts by the wanderers, while their hearts
beat faster and faster.  They neared the shore steadily, and each point
became an object of interest, and every well-remembered house received
due attention.  Finally, the ships rode in the harbour, and Selim, and
Abdullah, and their friends, bidding a kindly farewell to Soud bin Sayd,
after inviting him to come and see them, got into a boat called by the
kind Arab, and were rowed ashore.

As they stand at last on the island where both of these boys were born,
on the threshold of their own homes, how much money would, we wonder,
induce them to return to Africa without ever having seen their homes?
Judging from their faces, we should think the world would not be
sufficient, not even to induce them to return to Bagamoyo.  What bright,
joyous faces they wore!  What flashing eyes!  Men turned round in the
streets to look at them, and talked to their companions, with smiles,
about their looks.  They saw several whom they knew, but they were too
impatient, so near home, to stop to talk to any one, and they paced
determinedly towards home; they passed the Arab, the Hindoo, the Negro
quarter; crossed the bridge, and were among the gardens of the rich
Arabs.  Once outside the city, the capital of the island, they broke
into a run; but as they drew near their homes they sobered down, became
exceedingly agitated, and pale in the face.

Abdullah suddenly shouted, "There, Selim, is my home!  As thou hast to
pass it, come with me."

Selim consented, and accompanied his friend to the door, gave him one
last embrace, bade him come round and see him soon; and then bounded off
towards his own stately mansion, accompanied by Simba, Moto, and Niani.

He saw the mangoe trees, the orange-groves, the cinnamon and the slender
clove trees.  Soon he saw the house itself, looming large and white
between the trees; he saw the latticed windows, which he had often
pictured to himself in the depths of the African wilderness; he saw the
cupola of the Arab temple, which his father, Amer, had erected; he saw
the walls of the courtyard; he cast one glance at the blue sea, and the
spot consecrated by happy associations, where his father and kinsmen had
often sat, gazing upon the sea; and then burst through the door of the
courtyard, dashed breathlessly across it, and through the great carved
door of the mansion, up the stairs, and into the harem, where he saw a
woman seated on the divan, near the lattice, looking out.  One
penetrating glance assured him that she was Amina, his mother!  She
looked up and saw her son, Selim! returned to her heart and love! from
Negro-land.

Let us drop a kindly veil over the solemn and affecting meeting of
mother and son, feeling assured that the joy of both was indescribable;
that they interchanged the most endearing phrases; that they embraced
each other as loving mother and loving son, long parted, would; that
while he sat by her side he poured into her ears the sad tale of woe,
bereavement, suffering, privation, difficulty, disappointment; the
account of the marvellous adventures, hair-breadth escapes; of true
friendships formed; the sacrifice, the courage, and the constancy of one
whom he could never forget, Kalulu; and that his mother gave him an
account of all that she had endured for the last two years; how his
uncle had attempted to manage the estate himself, but she would not
permit him, knowing his character; how everything had prospered during
his absence; how rich he was; and how, with Leila's portion, which
Khamis, her father, had given her, he might consider himself one of the
richest men on Zanzibar Island.  But she begged of him not to think of
marrying yet, as he was not yet eighteen--a mere boy--to which Selim
gave his promise.

What wonderful things they had to tell each other! things which do not
concern the world to know, but concerned both mother and son; which they
appreciated, and enjoyed, and could repeat, and laugh merrily over
together, without caring one jot what the world outside thought.

On the third day after his arrival at Zanzibar Selim, accompanied by his
factor, a smart, shrewd, clever, honest Hindoo Mahometan, by Simba,
Moto, and Niani, went towards the city to purchase clothes for his
faithful servants and their families.  On the way he turned to
Abdullah's home and called out to him to ask if he would like to go with
him.  Abdullah was only too happy, and forthwith appeared outside,
dressed in the very height of Arab fashion, and as gay as could be.

Arriving within the city, the factor drew for Selim's use the sum of two
hundred dollars, and then, before making any purchases, Selim called
upon the sons of the Zanzibar Sultan, his old playmates, who warmly
greeted him, and who detained him to hear his story about his sufferings
and escape from slavery, all of which the factor had already known from
Selim and his mother.  Several other friends living in the neighbourhood
of the Sultan's palace, were called upon, all of whom expressed the
greatest surprise and pleasure at seeing him.

Selim, accompanied by his friends, was about crossing to Shangani Point,
when they suddenly came upon the slave-market, crowded with the
miserable beings about to be offered to the highest bidders.  The buyers
were there in considerable numbers, stout, portly Arabs, and well-to-do
half-castes, besides Mohammedans from India, who bought for other
people, all of whom were examining critically the subjects to be sold.
These "subjects" were of all ages, and of both sexes, almost entirely
nude.  Hardly one of them had a healthy look, mostly all appeared
half-starved and sick.  There had lately been several importations from
Kilwa, Mombasah, Whinde, Saadani, and Bagamoyo, which had eluded the
searching eyes of the British cruisers and the agents of the British
consulate.  But here they were almost under the windows of the house
over which the flag of England waved, examples of human suffering,
subjects of human brutality; the most hapless-looking beings, the most
woe-begone "human cattle" that the sun had ever shone upon.

Selim was about departing, disgusted with the brutal scene, when,
casting a last look at the auctioneer, he saw the face of the slave whom
he was about to sell.  With a frenzied look and pale face he said to the
factor, to Abdullah, and his other friends:

"Come this way--come this way--quick, for Allah's sake," drawing the
factor away after him until he was hidden from the auctioneer's gaze
behind a group of sightseers.

"What is the matter, Selim?" asked Abdullah.  "Art thou sick?"

"Sick!  No; but listen all of ye.  Do ye see yon slave about to be sold
now?"

"Yes," answered all.

"Then that slave, as sure as Allah is in heaven, is my adopted brother
Kalulu!"

"Kalulu!" exclaimed the startled friends.  "Yes, Kalulu!"

"Wallahi, he is!" exclaimed Moto in an excited tone.  "There is not
another here present who can hold his head like that, be he Arab or
African.  He is the King of the Watuta!  I swear it;" and as he said
that he was about to rush off, followed by Simba, when Selim shouted,
"For Allah's sake, don't stir!"

"Why?  He is not a slave," shouted Simba.  "He has been stolen by that
Arab caravan, which travelled by night, because the chiefs feared the
day, bike thieves.  Moto, thou wert right.  I see it all now.  Wallahi!
but I will break the back of the thief, even if the Sultan of Zanzibar
cuts my head off.  Let me go, Selim!"

"Silence, Simba," said the factor.  "Thou wilt draw attention to the
young master.  I see what Selim wants.  He wants me to go and buy him.
Ah, ha!  Africa has taught thee cunning, Selim!"

"Yes, go," said Selim.  "Offer anything; but don't let him be bought by
anybody else.  Give a thousand dollars for him, but bring him to me.  We
will wait thee here."

"Fear not; but there is one thing thou hast not observed, Selim.  I know
I shall get him cheap.  Dost thou not see that he is handcuffed?  He is
dangerous.  Simba, be thou ready.  Watch me nod my head, do not stir
until I do so, then go to him and catch him.  When I have paid the money
he becomes Master Selim's slave.  And thou, Selim, keep guard over this
big fellow, or he will ruin the game I am going to play.  Abdullah,
Moto, do ye hear?" asked the factor.

"We do; we understand," they answered.

From their position they could observe everything without being seen.
They saw the factor make his way to the front among the buyers.  They
heard the auctioneer, a sturdy, strong-voiced fellow, conspicuous from
an enormous turban he wore round his head, bellow out:

"Ho, Arabs, children of Zanzibar, and ye rich men, look up!  Here is a
priceless slave from Ututa.  He calls himself King of Ututa" (a laugh
from a bystander).  "Kings command high prices."  ("They make very bad
slaves!" shouted Selim's factor.) "I am going to run this fellow high."
("No you won't;" Selim's factor.) "Look at him well.  Watch his eyes;
they are living fire.  See the pose of his head.  Observe his limbs;
clean and well-shaped as a Nedjed mare's.  Look at his chest; there's
wind, there's hard work there."  ("Very little work, plenty of wind to
run;" Selim's factor.) "Just take a glance at his teeth; there,--open
boy.  No, dog! take that" (buffeting him).  "Look at his hair; it hangs
below the shoulders.  Believe me, no slave was ever offered in this
market to equal him.  Offer; an offer, Arabs.  Rich men, who require a
good slave, make an offer for the best slave ever brought to Zanzibar."

"Say, auctioneer, why is he handcuffed? did he try to murder his master?
And why is the chain about his neck?  Has he tried to run away?" asked
Selim's factor.

"Silence!" thundered the auctioneer.  "An offer is what I want."

"Two dollars!" shouted the factor, smiling sardonically.

"Two dollars!!  Only two dollars! for this unequalled slave.  Man, look
at him, and offer a hundred."

"Five dollars!" shouted a bystander.

"Five dollars!  Five, five, five, five, five."

"Six!" shouted the factor.

"Six dollars!  Six, six."

"Ten dollars!" from a bystander.

"Twenty dollars!" shouted the factor.

"Twenty dollars.  Come, bid up.  Only twenty, twenty, twenty, twenty.
Who goes beyond twenty?"

"Twenty-five!" shouted the bystander.

"Thirty dollars!  He is worth more, but he is a devil.  I can see that
by his eye."

"Thirty, thirty, thirty, thirty.  Bid up.  Only thirty!  He is worth
more.  Bid up, Arabs.  Thirty, thirty, thirty.  Going,--going,--going,--
gone!" and the auctioneer nodded to the factor.

The factor walked up, counted thirty dollars in American gold to the
auctioneer, who laughed as he put the money in his pouch, and said:

"My friend, this slave will murder thee the first time he catches thee
asleep.  Be wary of him; I should hate to hear some morning that thy
throat is cut from ear to ear." ear.

"Fear not for me, my friend.  I have seen worse than he is tamed.
Release his neck from the chain.  Let go his hands."

"Art thou mad?" asked the auctioneer.

"Not at all.  Let him go free," replied the factor.

The neck-chain slipped off, and the hands were about to be freed, when
the factor nodded to Simba, who sprang through the bystanders like a
very lion, and while the hands were being freed, uttered, with his deep
voice, the magic name--

"Kalulu!"

The slave, still on the stand, turned round at the sound of the word.
He saw the unmistakable face of Simba, and behind him, advancing slowly,
two Arab boys, well-dressed, whom he did not know, but he recognised
Moto and Niani.  He reeled as one struck, but the great strong arms of
Simba were round him; they lifted him up from the stand, carried him on
the run towards the two Arab boys, and he was placed face to face with
the tallest of them.

"See, Kalulu, dost thou not know Selim?" asked Simba.

The astonished boy looked at the face one moment.  He saw him advance--
with his old smile towards him, and he sprang at him, and thus it was
how the two friends had met after so many months.  Abdullah, Simba,
Moto, Niani, were embraced one after another, to the astonishment of the
bystanders, who could not conceive how such Arab boys could degrade
themselves so low as to hug a slave that a few minutes ago was in
chains, and sold for the cheap sum of thirty dollars!

Are not all bystanders in all parts of the world always wondering why
such and such things happen?  Is not the world for ever in a maze, and
deeming many things of like nature to be incomprehensible?  When was the
world not shocked at an exhibition of nature?

But our friends paid no heed to the surprise of the bystanders or to
their remarks; they left the marketplace arm in arm, and proceeded
towards a shop where "long clothes" were sold.  An Arab shirt thrown
over him, and a piece of white cloth folded around his head, made a
wonderful change in Kalulu.  Then Selim gave orders to the factor to
purchase the best clothes he could get for Kalulu, blue cloth jacket,
embroidered cap, and embroidered shirt, linen drawers, crimson fez with
long blue tassel, and slippers, besides a Muscat shash and Arab dagger,
over and above what he had intended to purchase for him, to which the
factor promised to pay implicit attention.

Selim turned to Kalulu and said:

"In two or three days, Kalulu, thou wilt be as well-dressed as any son
of an Arab in Zanzibar; but now I must show thee my mother and my home.
When we are outside the city thou canst tell us thy story."

In half an hour they were in the country; and Kalulu, when requested to
begin, said:

"I went out to look for game, and coming to the forest I saw smoke, and
men wearing Arab clothes.  I went to their camp when I found they were
Arabs, not thinking they could act as they did.  They spoke me fair at
first; but while I was seated alongside of the chief his men sprang on
me, and they chained me.  I struggled hard at first, but they hurt me
and abused me as if they meant to kill me.  We travelled that night
through the forest, and every night until we came to Unyanyembe, where
we were kept in a house in a dark room.  After a few days we began
another journey, which ended at this sea.  On coming to the island the
chief put me to work in the field; but they could not get me to work.
They beat and beat me every day; but I would not work, and the chief,
finding he could do nothing with me, sent me with many more to be sold.
That is the story."

"Dost thou know that thou art my slave now, Kalulu?  But when I was a
slave of thine thou didst set me free and protect me by making me thy
brother.  I do the same to thee now.  Thou art free, and I shall be a
brother to thee, and my mother shall be thy mother," said Selim.

"And mine too, Kalulu," said Abdullah; "Selim shall not keep thee all to
himself.  My mother wants to see thee.  And here we are at my mother's
house, to which I ask thee to come now."

In a few moments they were at the door, and Abdullah invited Selim and
Kalulu to walk in.  They were led up a flight of stairs, and presently
stood in an ante-chamber.  Leaving their slippers outside, Abdullah
ushered his two friends into a spacious saloon, close to the walls of
which ran a luxurious divan, covered with soft silken carpeting, the
like of which Kalulu had never dreamed of before; the floor was also
covered with Persian carpets of great thickness.

"Ah, Kalulu, my house is not so grand as Selim's; but it is better than
most Arab houses," said Abdullah.  "Stay here a moment until I go to
prepare my mother."

Abdullah was not gone long before he returned with his mother, whose
face was veiled by a thin muslin gauze, but who, on seeing that the
stranger was but a boy, threw off the veil and advanced towards him, and
began to thank him in the sweetest tones he ever heard.  She also told
him to make the house his home whenever he liked, or whenever Selim
could spare him, and after saying all that was required of her to say by
her son, she vanished into her own room.

After his mother had gone, Abdullah said: "Thou seest, Kalulu, that our
women have customs different from thine.  Wert thou a man, thou shouldst
never have seen her face?  Yet thou art such a big boy now, my mother is
even afraid of thee.  However, whatever my mother failed to tell thee,
her son says.  Thou art welcome: come early or late, thou must consider
all my mother or I have at thy service.  These are the words of my
mother and of myself."

"Thou hast done with Kalulu for the present, Abdullah.  Come thou with
us to my mother," said Selim.

"Nay, Selim; my brother Kalulu must eat in my house, and then we shall
go together with thee."

"Our noon-meal is ready.  Come thou and eat with us.  I want Kalulu to
see my mother.  Come, Abdullah, we can return and take the evening meal
with thee."

Seeing Selim was urgent, and really anxious, Abdullah, being but a boy,
consented, though it was against Arab custom; but he was consoled by the
reflection that the principal meal was to be eaten with him; and bidding
Selim stay a moment, he went back to his mother, and informed her that
they should have guests for the evening meal; then returning, he sallied
out with Selim and Kalulu.  Simba, Moto, and Niani were at the door
waiting for them, and together they proceeded to Selim's house.

If Kalulu was impressed with the grandeur of Abdullah's house, he was
much more so with the splendid appearance of Selim's.  The shining white
marble of the courtyard, the spaciousness, cleanliness, and order that
prevailed; the well-dressed slaves, that came forward assiduous to
please; the broad stairs, the carved portals, and the roomy
entrance-hall, took away the young chief's breath almost with surprise.
He was speechless with astonishment, and he mentally compared his own
miserable clay-floored hut with this grandeur.  He looked for Simba and
Moto, but found they were stopping at the door; they were excluded from
above, whither he was ascending, and Kalulu reflected upon this.

The ante-chamber was passed, at the door of which Selim and Abdullah
left their slippers, and they advanced into a grand and spacious saloon,
larger than the one at Abdullah's house, more superbly furnished, with
numbers of curious things which Sheikh Amer had collected through his
Bombay agent.

Selim turned round to Kalulu and asked:

"How does the young King of Ututa like his brother Selim's house?"

"Thou art greater than I, my brother.  I have had thousands of warriors
who would have done my slightest bidding; but I am the first King of
Ututa who ever saw a house like this.  I have had plenty of ivory, and
cows, and sheep, and goats that could not be counted for number, but I
never had a house like this."

"By-and-by, Kalulu, when we are all men and strong, we shall take thee
back to Ututa and see thee righted in thy own; thou having seen these
things, thou wilt be able to do likewise.  But thou and I have much to
learn yet.  We are boys, and we cannot fight Ferodia; but until we are
men, rest with Abdullah and me at Zanzibar; make my house thy own.  Stay
here; I go to Call my mother, Amina, whom thou must like."

"I shall like everything that thou dost like, Selim," answered Kalulu,
seating himself on the divan as he spoke.

Selim knocked at the door of his mother's apartments, who came to the
door.  Her son respectfully saluted his mother's right hand, and led her
into the room; but when she saw a stranger and a black man, she drew
back, and said:

"Who is this, my son; and what dost thou mean by bringing a slave into a
place where none but Arabs are admitted?  And I have left my veil
behind.  Fie, boy!"

"Nay, dear mother, this is only a boy; and he is not a slave, he is my
brother," answered Selim, smiling, as he beckoned Kalulu to advance, who
looked somewhat awed at the transcendent beauty of Selim's mother.

"Thy brother!  How, hast thou two mothers?  My lord, Amer, never told me
he had other wives than those who live in this house.  What folly is
this, Selim, my son?  Who is this boy?"

"Dost thou not know, mother?  Canst thou not guess?  Behold my brother,
my Kalulu!"

"Kalulu!" echoed his mother, and immediately she recovered her smiles,
and walking up to him, she poured into Kalulu's ears all a fond mother
could say to one whom she considered as her dear son's saviour and
deliverer, and she ended with saying:

"This house is at thy service.  Command anything thou dost wish, and
thou shalt be obeyed.  I also, who am Selim's mother--who for so long
mourned him as dead--know how to be grateful.  Simba, Moto, and little
Niani, who shared his troubles with him, have already been rewarded with
houses and gardens, and Selim is continually sounding their praises to
me.  But to thee, knowing as I do that thou hast suffered much, I shall
be as a mother; and thou shalt be My Kalulu."

The End.





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "My Kalulu, Prince, King and Slave - A Story of Central Africa" ***

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