It was not till January, 1871, that Stanley reached Zanzibar.  To organize an expedition into the interior was no easy task for one who had never before set foot in Africa.  To lay all his plans without divulging his object would, perhaps, have been more difficult if it had ever entered into any man’s head to connect the New York Herald with a search for Livingstone.  But indomitable vigor and perseverance succeeded, and by the end of February and beginning of March, one hundred and ninety-two persons in all had started in five caravans at short intervals from Bagamoio for Lake Tanganyika, two white men being of the party besides Stanley, with horses, donkeys, bales, boats, boxes, rifles, etc., to an amount that made the leader of the expedition ask himself how such an enormous weight of material could ever be carried into the heart of Africa.

The ordinary and extraordinary risks and troubles of travel in these parts fell to Mr. Stanley’s lot in unstinted abundance.  But when Unyanyembe was reached, the half-way station to Ujiji, troubles more than extraordinary befell.  First, a terrible attack of fever that deprived him of his senses for a fortnight.  Then came a worse trouble.  The Arabs were at war with a chief Mirambo, and Stanley and his men, believing they would help to restore peace more speedily, sided with the Arabs.  At first they were apparently victorious, but immediately after, part of the Arabs were attacked on their way home by Mirambo, who lay in ambush for them, and were defeated.  Great consternation prevailed.  The Arabs retreated in panic, leaving Stanley, who was ill, to the tender mercies of the foe.  Stanley, however, managed to escape.  After this experience of the Arabs in war, he resolved to discontinue his alliance with them.  As the usual way to Ujiji was blocked, he determined to try a route more to the south.  But his people had forsaken him.  One of his two English companions was dead, the other was sick and had to be sent back.  Mirambo was still threatening.  It was not till the 20th September that new men were engaged by Stanley, and his party were ready to move.

They marched slowly, with various adventures and difficulties, until, by Mr. Stanley’s reckoning, on the 10th November (but by Livingstone’s earlier), they were close on Ujiji.  Their approach created an extraordinary excitement.  First one voice saluted them in English, then another; these were the salutations of Livingstone’s servants, Susi and Chuma.  By and by the Doctor himself appeared.  “As I advanced slowly toward him,” says Mr. Stanley, “I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of gray tweed trousers.  I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob,—­would have embraced him, only he, being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing—­walked deliberately to him, took off my hat and said, ‘Dr. Livingstone, I presume?’ ‘Yes,’ said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly.  I replace my hat on my head, and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and then I say aloud—­’I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.’  He answered, ’I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.’”