The Expedition is increasing in numbers.

We had quite an alarm before dark.  Much firing was heard at Tabora, which led us to anticipate an attack on Kwihara.  It turned out, however, to be a salute fired in honour of the arrival of Sultan Kitambi to pay a visit to Mkasiwa, Sultan of Unyanyembe.

September 8th.—­Towards night Sheikh bin Nasib received a letter from an Arab at Mfuto, reporting that an attack was made on that place by Mirambo and his Watuta allies.  It also warned him to bid the people of Kwihara hold themselves in readiness, because if Mirambo succeeded in storming Mfuto, he would march direct on Kwihara.

September 9th.—­Mirambo was defeated with severe loss yesterday, in his attack upon Mfuto.  He was successful in an assault he made upon a small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm Mfuto, he was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his principal men.  Upon withdrawing his forces from the attack, the inhabitants sallied out, and followed him to the forest of Umanda, where he was again utterly routed, himself ingloriously flying from the field.

The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to Kwikuru, the boma of Mkasiwa.

September 14th.—­The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant fever.  Shaw is sick again.  These two occupy most of my time.  I am turned into a regular nurse, for I have no one to assist me in attending upon them.  If I try to instruct Abdul Kader in the art of being useful, his head is so befogged with the villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders bewildered about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely for a full hour.  If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted cook, to assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea, and I am thus obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine.

September 15th.—­The third month of my residence in Unyanyembe is almost finished, and I am still here, but I hope to be gone before the 23rd inst.

All last night, until nine A.M. this morning, my soldiers danced and sang to the names of their dead comrades, whose bones now bleach in the forests of Wilyankuru.  Two or three huge pots of pombe failed to satisfy the raging thirst which the vigorous exercise they were engaged in, created.  So, early this morning, I was called upon to contribute a shukka for another potful of the potent liquor.

To-day I was busy selecting the loads for each soldier and pagazi.  In order to lighten their labor as much as possible, I reduced each load from 70 lbs. to 50 lbs., by which I hope to be enabled to make some long marches.  I have been able to engage ten pagazis during the last two or three days.

I have two or three men still very sick, and it is almost useless to expect that they will be able to carry anything, but I am in hopes that other men may be engaged to take their places before the actual day of departure, which now seems to be drawing near rapidly.