“Now, kirangozi, hold the white man’s flag up high, and let the Zanzibar flag bring up the rear.  And you men keep close together, and keep firing until we halt in the market-place, or before the white man’s house.  You have said to me often that you could smell the fish of the Tanganika—­I can smell the fish of the Tanganika now.  There are fish, and beer, and a long rest waiting for you.  March!”

Before we had gone a hundred yards our repeated volleys had the effect desired.  We had awakened Ujiji to the knowledge that a caravan was coming, and the people were witnessed rushing up in hundreds to meet us.  The mere sight of the flags informed every one immediately that we were a caravan, but the American flag borne aloft by gigantic Asmani, whose face was one vast smile on this day, rather staggered them at first.  However, many of the people who now approached us, remembered the flag.  They had seen it float above the American Consulate, and from the mast-head of many a ship in the harbor of Zanzibar, and they were soon heard welcoming the beautiful flag with cries of “Bindera Kisungu!”—­a white man’s flag!  “Bindera Merikani!”—­the American flag!

Then we were surrounded by them:  by Wajiji, Wanyamwezi, Wangwana, Warundi, Waguhha, Wamanyuema, and Arabs, and were almost deafened with the shouts of “Yambo, yambo, bana!  Yambo, bana!  Yambo, bana!” To all and each of my men the welcome was given.

 We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji,
 and the crowds are dense about me.  Suddenly I hear a voice on
 my right say,

 “Good morning, sir!”

Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous—­a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask: 

 “Who the mischief are you?”

 “I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone,” said be, smiling,
 and showing a gleaming row of teeth.

 “What!  Is Dr. Livingstone here?”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “In this village?”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Sure, sure, sir.  Why, I leave him just now."”

 “Good morning, sir,” said another voice.

 “Hallo,” said I, “is this another one?”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Well, what is your name?”

 “My name is Chumah, sir.”

 “What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?”

 “Yes, sir.”

 “And is the-Doctor well?”

 " Not very well, sir.”

 “Where has he been so long?”

 “In Manyuema.”

 “Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming.”

 “Yes, sir,” and off he darted like a madman.