Having arrived at the khambi, which always surrounds some great baobab in Ugogo, at the distance of about half a mile from the tembe of the Sultan, the Wagogo pressed in such great numbers to the camp that Sheikh Thani resolved to make an effort to stop or mitigate the nuisance.  Dressing himself in his best clothes, he went to appeal to the Sultan for protection against his people.  The Sultan was very much inebriated, and was pleased to say, “What is it you want, you thief?  You have come to steal my ivory or my cloth.  Go away, thief!” But the sensible chief, whose voice had just been heard reproaching the people for their treatment of the Wasungu, beckoned to Thani to come out of the tembe, and then proceeded with him towards the khambi.

The camp was in a great uproar; the curious Wagogo monopolized almost every foot of ground; there was no room to turn anywhere.  The Wanyamwezi were quarreling with the Wagogo, the Wasawahili servants were clamoring loud that the Wagogo pressed down their tents, and that the property of the masters was in danger; while I, busy on my diary within my tent, cared not how great was the noise and confusion outside as long as it confined itself to the Wagogo, Wanyamwezi, and Wangwana.

The presence of the chief in the camp was followed by a deep silence that I was prevailed upon to go outside to see what had caused it.  The chief’s words were few, and to the point.  He said, “To your tembes, Wagogo—­to your tembes!  Why, do you come to trouble the Wakonongo:  What have you to do with them?  To your tembes:  go!  Each Mgogo found in the khambi without meal, without cattle to sell, shall pay to the mtemi cloth or cows.  Away with you!” Saying which, he snatched up a stick and drove the hundreds out of the khambi, who were as obedient to him as so many children.  During the two days we halted at Mukondoku we saw no more of the mob, and there was peace.

The muhongo of the Sultan Swaruru was settled with few words.  The chief who acted for the Sultan as his prime minister having been “made glad” with a doti of Rehani Ulyah from me, accepted the usual tribute of six doti, only one of which was of first-class cloth.

There remained but one more sultan to whom muhongo must be paid after Mukondoku, and this was the Sultan of Kiwyeh, whose reputation was so bad that owners of property who had control over their pagazis seldom passed by Kiwyeh, preferring the hardships of long marches through the wilderness to the rudeness and exorbitant demands of the chief of Kiwyeh.  But the pagazis, on whom no burden or responsibility fell save that of carrying their loads, who could use their legs and show clean heels in the case of a hostile outbreak, preferred the march to Kiwyeh to enduring thirst and the fatigue of a terekeza.  Often the preference of the pagazis won the day, when their employers were timid, irresolute men, like Sheikh Hamed.