The cattle are all very much the worse for being knocked about in the dhow.  We began to prepare saddles of a very strong tree called Ntibwe, which is also used for making the hooked spear with which hippopotami are killed—­the hook is very strong and tough; I applied also for twenty carriers and a Banian engaged to get them as soon as possible.  The people have no cattle here, they are half-caste Arabs mostly, and quite civil to us.

26th March, 1866.—­A few of the Nassick boys have the slave spirit pretty strongly; it goes deepest in those who have the darkest skins.  Two Gallah men are the most intelligent and hardworking among them; some look on work with indifference when others are the actors.

Now that I am on the point of starting on another trip into Africa I feel quite exhilarated:  when one travels with the specific object in view of ameliorating the condition of the natives every act becomes ennobled.

Whether exchanging the customary civilities, or arriving at a village, accepting a night’s lodging, purchasing food for the party, asking for information, or answering polite African enquiries as to our objects in travelling, we begin to spread a knowledge of that people by whose agency their land will yet become enlightened and freed from the slave-trade.

The mere animal pleasure of travelling in a wild unexplored country is very great.  When on lands of a couple of thousand feet elevation, brisk exercise imparts elasticity to the muscles, fresh and healthy blood circulates through the brain, the mind works well, the eye is clear, the step is firm, and a day’s exertion always makes the evening’s repose thoroughly enjoyable.

We have usually the stimulus of remote chances of danger either from beasts or men.  Our sympathies are drawn out towards our humble hardy companions by a community of interests, and, it may be, of perils, which make us all friends.  Nothing but the most pitiable puerility would lead any manly heart to make their inferiority a theme for self-exaltation; however, that is often done, as if with the vague idea that we can, by magnifying their deficiencies, demonstrate our immaculate perfections.

The effect of travel on a man whose heart is in the right place is that the mind is made more self-reliant:  it becomes more confident of its own resources—­there is greater presence of mind.  The body is soon well-knit; the muscles of the limbs grow as hard as a board, and seem to have no fat; the countenance is bronzed, and there is no dyspepsia.  Africa is a most wonderful country for appetite, and it is only when one gloats over marrow bones or elephant’s feet that indigestion is possible.  No doubt much toil is involved, and fatigue of which travellers in the more temperate climes can form but a faint conception; but the sweat of one’s brow is no longer a curse when one works for God:  it proves a tonic to the system, and is actually a blessing.  No one can truly appreciate the charm of repose unless he has undergone severe exertion.