After half an hour’s march the scenery became more animated.  Shaw began to be amused.  Bombay had forgotten our quarrel, and assured me, if I could pass Mirambo’s country, I should “catch the Tanganika;” Mabruki Burton also believed we should.  Selim was glad to leave Unyanyembe, where he had suffered so much from fever; and there was a something in the bold aspect of the hills which cropped upward—­above fair valleys, that enlivened and encouraged me to proceed.

In an hour and a half, we arrived at our camp in the Kinyamwezi village of Mkwenkwe, the birthplace—­of our famous chanter Maganga.

My tent was pitched, the goods were stored in one of the tembes; but one-half the men had returned to Kwihara, to take one more embrace of their wives and concubines.

Towards night I was attacked once again with the intermittent fever.  Before morning it had departed, leaving me terribly prostrated with weakness.  I had heard the men conversing with each other over their camp-fires upon the probable prospects of the next day.  It was a question with them whether I should continue the march.  Mostly all were of opinion that, since the master was sick, there would be no march.  A superlative obstinacy, however, impelled me on, merely to spite their supine souls; but when I sallied out of my tent to call them to get ready, I found that at least twenty were missing; and Livingstone’s letter-carrier, “Kaif-Halek”—­or, How-do-ye-do?—­had not arrived with Dr. Livingstone’s letter-bag.

Selecting twenty of the strongest and faithfulest men I despatched them back to Unyanyembe in search of the missing men; and Selim was sent to Sheikh bin Nasib to borrow, or buy, a long slave-chain.

Towards night my twenty detectives returned with nine of the missing men.  The Wajiji had deserted in a body, and they could not be found.  Selim also returned with a strong chain, capable of imprisoning within the collars attached to it at least ten men.  Kaif-Halek also appeared with the letter-bag which he was to convey to Livingstone under my escort.  The men were then addressed, and the slave-chain exhibited to them.  I told them that I was the first white man who had taken a slave-chain with him on his travels; but, as they were all so frightened of accompanying me, I was obliged to make use of it, as it was the only means of keeping them together.  The good need never fear being chained by me—­only the deserters, the thieves, who received their hire and presents, guns and ammunition, and then ran away.

I would not put any one this time in chains; but whoever deserted after this day, I should halt, and not continue the march till I found him, after which he should march to Ujiji with the slave-chain round his neck.  “Do you hear?”—­“Yes,” was the answer.  “Do you understand?”—­” Yes.”

We broke up camp at 6 P.M., and took the road for Inesuka, at which place we arrived at 8 P.M.