A man named John William Shaw—­a native of London, England, lately third-mate of the American ship `Nevada’—­applied to me for work.  Though his discharge from the `Nevada’ was rather suspicious, yet he possessed all the requirements of such a man as I needed, and was an experienced hand with the palm and needle, could cut canvas to fit anything, was a pretty good navigator, ready and willing, so far as his professions went..  I saw no reason to refuse his services, and he was accordingly engaged at $300 per annum, to rank second to William L. Farquhar.  Farquhar was a capital navigator and excellent mathematician; was strong, energetic, and clever.

The next thing I was engaged upon was to enlist, arm, and equip, a faithful escort of twenty men for the road.  Johari, the chief dragoman of the American Consulate, informed me that he knew where certain of Speke’s “Faithfuls” were yet to be found.  The idea had struck me before, that if I could obtain the services of a few men acquainted with the ways of white men, and who could induce other good men to join the expedition I was organizing, I might consider myself fortunate.  More especially had I thought of Seedy Mbarak Mombay, commonly called “Bombay,” who though his head was “woodeny,” and his hands” clumsy,” was considered to be the “faithfulest” of the “Faithfuls.”

With the aid of the dragoman Johari, I secured in a few hours the services of Uledi (Capt.  Grant’s former valet), Ulimengo, Baruti, Ambari, Mabruki (Muinyi Mabruki—­Bull-headed Mabruki, Capt.  Burton’s former unhappy valet)—­five of Speke’s “Faithfuls.”  When I asked them if they were willing to join another white man’s expedition to Ujiji, they replied very readily that they were willing to join any brother of “Speke’s.”  Dr. John Kirk, Her Majesty’s Consul at Zanzibar, who was present, told them that though I was no brother of “Speke’s,” I spoke his language.  This distinction mattered little to them:  and I heard them, with great delight, declare their readiness to go anywhere with me, or do anything I wished.

Mombay, as they called him, or Bombay, as we know him, had gone to Pemba, an island lying north of Zanzibar.  Uledi was sure Mombay would jump with joy at the prospect of another expedition.  Johari was therefore commissioned to write to him at Pemba, to inform him of the good fortune in store for him.

On the fourth morning after the letter had been despatched, the famous Bombay made his appearance, followed in decent order and due rank by the “Faithfuls” of “Speke.”  I looked in vain for the “woodeny head” and “alligator teeth” with which his former master had endowed him.  I saw a slender short man of fifty or thereabouts, with a grizzled head, an uncommonly high, narrow forehead, with a very large mouth, showing teeth very irregular, and wide apart.  An ugly rent in the upper front row of Bombay’s teeth was made with the clenched fist of Capt.  Speke in Uganda when his master’s