So the lonely man in his dull hut is riveted to the well-worn book; ever finding it a greater treasure as he goes along; and fain, when he has reached its last page, to turn back to the beginning, and gather up more of the riches which he has left upon the road.

To Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann he writes during his detention (September, 1870) on a leaf of his cheque-book, his paper being done.  He gives his theory of the rivers, enlarges on the fertility of the country, bewails his difficulty in getting men, as the Manyuema never go beyond their own country, and the traders, who have only begun to come there, are too busy collecting ivory to be able to spare men.  “The tusks were left in the terrible forests, where the animals were killed; the people, if treated civilly, readily go and bring the precious teeth, some half rotten, or gnawed by the teeth of a rodent called dezi.  I think that mad naturalists name it Aulocaudatus Swindermanus, or some equally wise agglutination of syllables....  My chronometers are all dead; I hope my old watch was sent to Zanzibar; but I have got no letters for years, save some, three years old, at Ujiji.  I have an intense and sore longing to finish and retire, and trust that the Almighty may permit me to go home.”

In one of his letters to Agnes from Manyuema he quotes some words from a letter of hers that he ever after cherished as a most refreshing cordial: 

“I commit myself to the Almighty Disposer of events, and if I fall, will do so doing my duty, like one of his stout-hearted servants.  I am delighted to hear you say that, much as you wish me home, you would rather hear of my finishing my work to my own satisfaction than come merely to gratify you.  That is a noble sentence, and I felt all along sure that all my friends would wish me to make a complete work of it, and in that wish, in spite of every difficulty, I cordially joined.  I hope to present to my young countrymen an example of manly perseverance.  I shall not hide from you that I am made by it very old and shaky, my cheeks fallen in, space round the eyes ditto; mouth almost toothless,—­a few teeth that remain, out of their line, so that a smile is that of a he-hippopotamus,—­a dreadful old fogie, and you must tell Sir Roderick that it is an utter impossibility for me to appear in public till I get new teeth, and even then the less I am seen the better.”

Another letter to Agnes from Manyuema gives a curious account of the young soko or gorilla a chief had lately presented to him: 

“She sits crouching eighteen inches high, and is the most intelligent and least mischievous of all the monkeys I have seen.  She holds out her hand to be lifted and carried, and if refused makes her face as in a bitter human weeping, and wrings her hands quite humanly, sometimes adding a foot or third hand to make the appeal more touching....  She knew me at once as a friend, and when plagued by any one always