But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march.  Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for according to their account, we belonged to them.  But the great wonder of all was, “How did you come from Unyanyembe?”

 Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he had told
 the Doctor I was coming, but the Doctor was too surprised to believe
 him, and when the Doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered.

But, during Susi’s absence, the news had been conveyed to the Doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing, and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji—­Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others—­had gathered together before the Doctor’s house, and the Doctor had come out from his veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival.

In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim said to me, “I see the Doctor, sir.  Oh, what an old man!  He has got a white beard.”  And I—­what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand; turning a somersault, or slashing at trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable.  My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.

So I did that which I thought was most dignified.  I pushed back the crowds, and, passing from the rear, walked down a living avenue of people, until I came in front of the semicircle of Arabs, before which stood the “white man with the grey beard.”

As I advanced slowly towards him I noticed he was pale, that he looked wearied and wan, that he had grey whiskers and moustache, that he wore a bluish cloth cap with a faded gold band on a red ground round it, and that he had on a red-sleeved waistcoat, and a pair of grey tweed trousers.

I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob—­would have embraced him, but that I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what moral cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing—­walked deliberately to him, took off my hat, and said: 

 “Dr. Livingstone, I presume?”

 “Yes,” said he, with a kind, cordial smile, lifting his cap slightly.

 I replaced my hat on my head, and he replaced his cap, and we
 both grasped hands.  I then said aloud: 

 “I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.”