29th June, 1866.—­We came onto Machemba’s brother, Chimseia, who gave us food at once.  The country is now covered with deeper soil, and many large acacia-trees grow in the rich loam:  the holms too are large, and many islands afford convenient maize grounds.  One of the Nassiek lads came up and reported his bundle, containing 240 yards of calico, had been stolen; he went aside, leaving it on the path (probably fell asleep), and it was gone when he came back.  I cannot impress either on them or the sepoys that it is wrong to sleep on the march.

Akosakone, whom we had liberated, now arrived at the residence of her husband, who was another brother of Machemba.  She behaved like a lady all through, sleeping at a fire apart from the men.  The ladies of the different villages we passed condoled with her, and she related to them the indignity that had been done to her.  Besides this she did us many services:  she bought food for us, because, having a good address, we saw that she could get double what any of our men could purchase for the same cloth; she spoke up for us when any injustice was attempted, and, when we were in want of carriers, volunteered to carry a bag of beads on her head.  On arriving at Machemba’s brother, Chimseia, she introduced me to him, and got him to be liberal to us in food on account of the service we had rendered to her.  She took leave of us all with many expressions of thankfulness, and we were glad that we had not mistaken her position or lavished kindness on the undeserving.

One Johanna man was caught stealing maize, then another, after I had paid for the first.  I sent a request to the chief not to make much of a grievance about it, as I was very much ashamed at my men stealing; he replied that he had liked me from the first, and I was not to fear, as whatever service he could do he would most willingly in order to save me pain and trouble.  A sepoy now came up having given his musket to a man to carry, who therefore demanded payment.  As it had become a regular nuisance for the sepoys to employ people to carry for them, telling them that I would pay, I demanded why he had promised in my name.  “Oh, it was but a little way he carried the musket,” said he.  Chimseia warned us next morning, 30th June, against allowing any one to straggle or steal in front, for stabbing and plundering were the rule.  The same sepoy who had employed a man to carry his musket now came forward, with his eyes fixed and shaking all over.  This, I was to understand, meant extreme weakness; but I had accidentally noticed him walking quite smartly before this exhibition, so I ordered him to keep close to the donkey that carried the havildar’s luggage, and on no account to remain behind the party.  He told the havildar that he would sit down only for a little while; and, I suppose, fell asleep, for he came up to us in the evening as naked as a robin.

I saw another person bound to a tree and dead—­a sad sight to see, whoever was the perpetrator.  So many slave-sticks lie along our path, that I suspect the people here-about make a practice of liberating what slaves they cian find abandoned on the march, to sell them again.