On the 9th of October we made a long march in a southerly direction, and formed our camp in the centre of a splendid grove of trees.  The water was very scarce on the road.  The Wamrima and Wanyamwezi are not long able to withstand thirst.  When water is plentiful they slake their thirst at every stream and pool; when it is scarce, as it is here and in the deserts of Marenga and Magunda Mkali, long afternoon-marches are made; the men previously, however, filling their gourds, so as to enable them to reach the water early next morning.  Selim was never able to endure thirst.  It mattered not how much of the precious liquid he carried, he generally drank it all before reaching camp, and he consequently suffered during the night.  Besides this, he endangered his life by quaffing from every muddy pool; and on this day he began to complain that he discharged blood, which I took to be an incipient stage of dysentery.

During these marches, ever since quitting Ugunda, a favourite topic at the camp-fires were the Wa-Ruga-Ruga, and their atrocities, and a possible encounter that we might have with these bold rovers of the forest.  I verily believe that a sudden onset of half a dozen of Mirambo’s people would have set the whole caravan arunning.

We reached Marefu the next day, after a short three hours’ march.  We there found an embassy sent by the Arabs of Unyanyembe, to the Southern Watuta, bearing presents of several bales, in charge of Hassan the Mseguhha.  This valiant leader and diplomatist had halted here some ten days because of wars and rumours of wars in his front.  It was said that Mbogo, Sultan of Mboga in Ukonongo, was at war with the brother of Manwa Sera, and as Mbogo was a large district of Ukonongo only two days’ march from Marefu; fear of being involved in it was deterring old Hassan from proceeding.  He advised me also not to proceed, as it was impossible to be able to do so without being embroiled in the conflict.  I informed him that I intended to proceed on my way, and take my chances, and graciously offered him my escort as far as the frontier of Ufipa, from which he could easily and safely continue on his way to the Watuta, but he declined it.

We had now been travelling fourteen days in a south-westerly direction, having made a little more than one degree of latitude.  I had intended to have gone a little further south, because it was such a good road, also since by going further south we should have labored under no fear of meeting Mirambo; but the report of this war in our front, only two days off, compelled me, in the interest of the Expedition, to strike across towards the Tanganika, an a west-by-north course through the forest, travelling, when it was advantageous, along elephant tracks and local paths.  This new plan was adopted after consulting with Asmani, the guide.  We were now in Ukonongo, having entered this district when we crossed the Gombe creek.  The next day after arriving at Marefu we plunged westward, in view of the villagers, and the Arab ambassador, who kept repeating until the last moment that we should “certainly catch it.”