Until 11 P.M., Bombay and Asmani were negotiating about this extra demand, arguing, quarreling, threatening, until Bombay declared they would talk him mad if it lasted much longer.  I told Bombay to take two cloths, one for each chief, and, if they did not consider it enough, then I should fight.  The present was taken, and the negotiations were terminated at midnight.

November 2nd.—­Ihata Island, one and a half hour west of Kiala’s.  We arrived before the Island of Ihata, on the left bank of the Malagarazi, at 5 p.m.; the morning having been wasted in puerile talk with the owner of the canoes at the ferry.  The final demand for ferriage across was eight yards of cloth and four fundo* of sami-sami, or red beads; which was at once paid.  Four men, with their loads, were permitted to cross in the small, unshapely, and cranky canoes.  When the boatmen had discharged their canoes of their passengers and cargoes, they were ordered to halt on the other side, and, to my astonishment, another demand was made.  The ferrymen had found that two fundo of these were of short measure, and two fundo more must be paid, otherwise the contract for ferrying us across would be considered null and void.  So two fundo more were added, but not without demur and much “talk,” which in these lands is necessary.

** 4 fundo == 40 necklaces; 1 fundo being 10 necklaces.

Three times the canoes went backwards and forwards, when, lo! another demand was made, with the usual clamour and fierce wordy dispute; this time for five khete # for the man who guided us to the ferry, a shukka of cloth for a babbler, who had attached himself to the old-womanish Jumah, who did nothing but babble and increase the clamor.  These demands were also settled.

# Necklaces.

About sunset we endeavoured to cross the donkeys.  “Simba,” a fine wild Kinyamwezi donkey, went in first, with a rope attached to his neck.  He had arrived at the middle of the stream when we saw him begin to struggle—­a crocodile had seized him by the throat.  The poor animal’s struggles were terrific.  Chowpereh was dragging on the rope with all his might, but to no use, for the donkey sank, and we saw no more of him.  The depth of the river at this place was about fifteen feet.  We had seen the light-brown heads, the glittering eyes, and the ridgy backs, hovering about the vicinity, but we had never thought that the reptiles would advance so near such an exciting scene as the vicinity of the ferry presented during the crossing.  Saddened a little by this loss, we resumed our work, and by 7 P.M. we were all across, excepting Bombay and the only donkey now left, which was to be brought across in the morning, when the crocodiles should have deserted the river.

November 3rd.—­What contention have we not been a witness to these last three days!  What anxiety have we not suffered ever since our arrival in Uvinza!  The Wavinza are worse than the Wagogo, and their greed is more insatiable.  We got the donkey across with the aid of a mganga, or medicine man, who spat some chewed leaves of a tree which grows close to the stream over him.  He informed me he could cross the river at any time, day or night, after rubbing his body with these chewed leaves, which he believed to be a most potent medicine.