13th July, 1868.—­On resting at a deserted spot, the men of a village in the vicinity came to us excited and apparently drunk, and began to work themselves up still more by running about, poising their spears at us, taking aim with their bows and arrows, and making as if about to strike with their axes:  they thought that we were marauders, and some plants of ground-nuts strewn about gave colour to the idea.  There is usually one good soul in such rabbles.  In this case a man came to me, and, addressing his fellows, said, “This is only your pombe.  White man, do not stand among them, but go away,” and then he placed himself between me and a portion of the assailants, about thirty of whom were making their warlike antics.  While walking quietly away with my good friend they ran in front and behind bushes and trees, took aim with bow and arrow, but none shot:  the younger men ran away with our three goats.  When we had gone a quarter of a mile my friend told me to wait and he would bring the goats, which he did:  I could not feel the inebriates to be enemies; but in that state they are the worst one can encounter, for they have no fear as they have when sober.  One snatched away a fowl from our guide, that too was restored by our friend.  I did not load my gun; for any accidental discharge would have inflamed them to rashness.  We got away without shedding blood, and were thankful.  The Mazitu raid has produced lawlessness in the country:  every one was taken as an enemy.

14th July, 1868.—­We remained a day at the stockade of Moieggea.  A Banyamwezi or Garaganza man is settled here in Kabaia’s district, and on the strong rivulet called Mato.  We felt secure only among the strangers, and they were friendly with us.

15th July, 1868.—­At the village on the south bank of the Mpanda we were taken by the headman as Mazitu.  He was evidently intoxicated, and began to shut his gates with frantic gesticulations.  I offered to go away; but others of his people, equally intoxicated, insisted on my remaining.  I sat down a little, but seeing that the chief was still alarmed, I said to his people, “The chief objects and I can’t stay:”  they saw the reasonableness of this, but I could not get my cowardly attendants to come on, though one said to me, “Come, I shall show you the way:  we must speak nice to them.”  This the wise boys think the perfection of virtue, speaking nice means adopting a childish treble tone of voice and words exactly similar to those of the little Scotch girl who, passing through a meadow, was approached by a cow, probably from curiosity.  To appease this enemy, she said, “Oh, coo, coo, if you no hurt me, I no hurt you.”  I told them to come on and leave them quietly, but they remained babbling with them.  The guide said that there was no water in front:  this I have been told too often ever to believe, so I went on through the forest, and in an hour and a half came to a sponge where, being joined by my attendants, we passed the night.