We made a short halt at noon, for rest and refreshment.  I was shown the hills from which the Tanganika could be seen, which bounded the valley of the Liuche on the east.  I could not contain myself at the sight of them.  Even with this short halt I was restless and unsatisfied.  We resumed the march again.  I spurred my men forward with the promise that to-morrow should see their reward.

We were in sight of the villages of the Wakaranga; the people caught sight of us, and manifested considerable excitement.  I sent men ahead to reassure them, and they came forward to greet us.  This was so new and welcome to us, so different from the turbulent Wavinza and the black-mailers of Uhha, that we were melted.  But we had no time to loiter by the way to indulge our joy.  I was impelled onward by my almost uncontrollable feelings.  I wished to resolve my doubts and fears.  Was he still there?  Had he heard of my coming?  Would he fly?

How beautiful Ukaranga appears!  The green hills are crowned by clusters of straw-thatched cones.  The hills rise and fall; here denuded and cultivated, there in pasturage, here timbered, yonder swarming with huts.  The country has somewhat the aspect of Maryland.

We cross the Mkuti, a glorious little river!  We ascend the opposite bank, and stride through the forest like men who have done a deed of which they may be proud.  We have already travelled nine hours, and the sun is sinking rapidly towards the west; yet, apparently, we are not fatigued.

We reach the outskirts of Niamtaga, and we hear drums beat.  The people are flying into the woods; they desert their villages, for they take us to be Ruga-Ruga—­the forest thieves of Mirambo, who, after conquering the Arabs of Unyanyembe, are coming to fight the Arabs of Ujiji.  Even the King flies from his village, and every man, woman, and child, terror-stricken, follows him.  We enter into it and quietly take possession.  Finally, the word is bruited about that we are Wangwana, from Unyanyembe.

 “Well, then, is Mirambo dead?” they ask.

 “No,” we answer.

 “Well, how did you come to Ukaranga?”

 “By way of Ukonongo, Ukawendi, and Uhha.”

" Oh—­hi-le!” Then they laugh heartily at their fright, and begin to make excuses.  The King is introduced to me, and he says he had only gone to the woods in order to attack us again—­he meant to have come back and killed us all, if we had been Ruga-Ruga.  But then we know the poor King was terribly frightened, and would never have dared to return, had we been RugaRuga—­not he.  We are not, however, in a mood to quarrel with him about an idiomatic phrase peculiar to him, but rather take him by the hand and shake it well, and say we are so very glad to see him.  And he shares in our pleasure, and