Unyanyembe was now to me a terrestrial Paradise.  Livingstone was no less happy; he was in comfortable quarters, which were a palace compared to his hut in Ujiji.  Our store-rooms were full of the good things of this life, besides cloth, beads, wire, and the thousand and one impedimenta and paraphernalia of travel with which I had loaded over one hundred and fifty men at Bagamoyo.  I had seventy-four loads of miscellaneous things, the most valuable of which were now to be turned over to Livingstone, for his march back to the sources of the Nile.

It was a great day with, us when, with hammer and chisel, I broke open the Doctor’s boxes, that we might feast our famished stomachs on the luxuries which were to redeem us from the effect of the cacotrophic dourra and maize food we had been subjected to in the wilderness.  I conscientiously believed that a diet on potted ham, crackers, and jellies would make me as invincible as Talus, and that I only required a stout flail to be able to drive the mighty Wagogo into the regions of annihiliation, should they dare even to wink in a manner I disapproved.

The first box opened contained three tins of biscuits, six tins of potted hams—­tiny things, not much larger than thimbles, which, when opened, proved to be nothing more than a table-spoonful of minced meat plentifully seasoned with pepper:  the Doctor’s stores fell five hundred degrees below zero in my estimation.  Next were brought out five pots of jam, one of which was opened—­this was also a delusion.  The stone jars weighed a pound, and in each was found a little over a tea-spoonful of jam.  Verily, we began to think our hopes and expectations had been raised to too high a pitch.  Three bottles of curry were next produced—­but who cares for curry?  Another box was opened, and out tumbled a fat dumpy Dutch cheese, hard as a brick, but sound and good; though it is bad for the liver in Unyamwezi.  Then another cheese was seen, but this was all eaten up—­it was hollow and a fraud.  The third box contained nothing but two sugar loaves; the fourth, candles; the fifth, bottles of salt, Harvey, Worcester, and Reading sauces, essence of anchovies, pepper, and mustard.  Bless me! what food were these for the revivifying of a moribund such as I was!  The sixth box contained four shirts, two pairs of stout shoes, some stockings and shoe-strings, which delighted the Doctor so much when he tried them on that he exclaimed, “Richard is himself again!” “That man,” said I, “whoever he is, is a friend, indeed.”  “Yes, that is my friend Waller.”

The five other boxes contained potted meat and soups; but the twelfth, containing one dozen bottles of medicinal brandy, was gone;and a strict cross-examination of Asmani, the head man of Livingstone’s caravan, elicited the fact, that not only was one case of brandy missing, but also two bales of cloth and four bags of the most valuable beads in Africa—­sami-sami—­which are as gold with the natives.