and tied to a post for the young slaves to plague her.  Her daughter burst into an agony of tears on seeing them tying her mother, and Mpamari ordered her to be tied to the mother’s back for crying; I interceded for her, and she was let go.  He said, “You don’t care, though Sayed Majid loses his money.”  I replied, “Let the old woman go, she will be off again to-morrow.”  But they cannot bear to let a slave have freedom.  I don’t understand what effect his long prayers and prostrations towards the “Kibla” have on his own mind, they cannot affect the minds of his slaves favourably, nor do they mine, though I am as charitable as most people.

19th November, 1868.—­I prepared to start to-day, but Mohamad Bogharib has been very kind, and indeed cooked meals for me from my arrival at Casembe’s, 6th May last, till we came here, 22nd October; the food was coarse enough, but still it was food; and I did not like to refuse his genuine hospitality.  He now begged of me not to go for three days, and then he would come along with me!  Mpamari also entreated.  I would not have minded him, but they have influence with the canoe-men on Tanganyika, and it is well not to get a bad name if possible.

20th November, 1868.—­Mohamad Bogharib purposed to attack two villages near to this, from an idea that the people there concealed his runaway slaves; by remaining I think that I have put a stop to this, as he did not like to pillage while I was in company:  Mpamari also turned round towards peace, though he called all the riff-raff to muster, and caracoled among them like an old broken-winded horse.  One man became so excited with yelling, that the others had to disarm him, and he then fell down as if in a fit; water poured on his head brought him to calmness.  We go on the 22nd.

22nd November, 1868.—­This evening the Imbozhwa, or Babemba, came at dusk, and killed a Wanyamwezi woman on one side of the village, and a woman and child on the other side of it.  I took this to be the result of the warlike demonstration mentioned above; but one of Mohamad Bogharib’s people, named Bin Juma, had gone to a village on the north of this and seized two women and two girls, in lieu of four slaves who had run away.  The headman, resenting this, shot an arrow into one of Bin Junta’s party, and Bin Juma shot a woman with his gun.

This, it turned out, had roused the whole country, and next morning we were assailed by a crowd of Imbozhwa on three sides:  we had no stockade, but the men built one as fast as the enemy allowed, cutting down trees and carrying them to the line of defence, while others kept the assailants at bay with their guns.  Had it not been for the crowd of Banyamwezi which we have, who shot vigorously with their arrows, and occasionally chased the Imbozhwa, we should have been routed.  I did not go near the fighting, but remained in my house to defend my luggage if necessary.  The women went up and down the village with sieves,