Bombay has received an excellent character from Burton and Speke.  “Incarnation of honesty” Burton grandly terms him.  The truth is, Bombay was neither very honest nor very dishonest, i.e., he did not venture to steal much.  He sometimes contrived cunningly, as he distributed the meat, to hide a very large share for his own use.  This peccadillo of his did not disturb me much; he deserved as captain a larger share than the others.  He required to be closely watched, and when aware that this was the case, he seldom ventured to appropriate more cloth than I would have freely given him, had he asked for it.  As a personal servant, or valet, he would have been unexceptionable, but as a captain or jemadar over his fellows, he was out of his proper sphere.  It was too much brain-work, and was too productive of anxiety to keep him in order.  At times he was helplessly imbecile in his movements, forgot every order the moment it was given him, consistently broke or lost some valuable article, was fond of argument, and addicted to bluster.  He thinks Hajji Abdullah one of the wickedest white men born, because he saw him pick up men’s skulls and put them in sacks, as if he was about to prepare a horrible medicine with them.  He wanted to know whether his former master had written down all he himself did, and when told that Burton had not said anything, in his books upon the Lake Regions, upon collecting skulls at Kilwa, thought I would be doing a good work if I published this important fact.* Bombay intends to make a pilgrimage to visit Speke’s grave some day. ________________________ I find upon returning to England, that Capt.  Burton has informed the world of this “wicked and abominable deed,” in his book upon Zanzibar, and that the interesting collection may be seen at the Royal College of Surgeons, London. _________________________

Mabruki, “Ras-bukra Mabruki,” Bull-headed Mabruki, as Burton calls him, is a sadly abused man in my opinion.  Mabruki, though stupid, is faithful.  He is entirely out of his element as valet, he might as well be clerk.  As a watchman he is invaluable, as a second captain or fundi, whose duty it is to bring up stragglers, he is superexcellent.  He is ugly and vain, but he is no coward.

Asmani the guide is a large fellow, standing over six feet, with the neck and shoulders of a Hercules.  Besides being guide, he is a fundi, sometimes called Fundi Asmani, or hunter.  A very superstitious man, who takes great care of his gun, and talismanic plaited cord, which he has dipped in the blood of all the animals he has ever shot.  He is afraid of lions, and will never venture out where lions are known to be.  All other animals he regards as game, and is indefatigable in their pursuit.  He is seldom seen without an apologetic or a treacherous smile on his face.  He could draw a knife across a man’s throat and still smile.

Chowpereh is a sturdy short man of thirty or thereabouts; very good-natured, and humorous.  When Chowpereh speaks in his dry Mark Twain style, the whole camp laughs.  I never quarrel with Chowpereh, never did quarrel with him.  A kind word given to Chowpereh is sure to be reciprocated with a good deed.  He is the strongest, the healthiest, the amiablest, the faithfulest of all.  He is the embodiment of a good follower.