r twelve pieces of cloth only, I
should not have presumed to trouble your Highness about the loss; but 62
pieces or gorahs out of 80, besides beads, is like cutting a man's
throat. If one or two guards of good character could be sent by you, no
one would plunder the pagasi next time.

"I wish also to hire twelve or fifteen good freemen to act as canoe-men
or porters, or in any other capacity that may be required. I shall be
greatly obliged if you appoint one of your gentlemen who knows the
country to select that number, and give them and their headman a charge
as to their behavior. If they know that you wish them to behave well it
will have great effect. I wish to go down Tanganyika, through Luanda and
Chowambe, and pass the river Karagwe, which falls into Lake Chowambe.
Then come back to Ujiji, visit Manyuema and Rua, and then return to
Zanzibar, when I hope to see your Highness in the enjoyment of health
and happiness."

Livingstone showed only his usual foresight in taking these precautions
for the protection of his next cargo of goods. In stating so plainly his
intended route, his purpose was doubtless to prevent carelessness in
executing his orders, such as might have arisen had it been deemed
uncertain where he was going, and whether or not he meant to return
by Zanzibar.

Of letters during the latter part of this period very few seem to have
reached their destination. A short letter to Dr. Moffat, bearing date
"Near Lake Moero, March, 1868," dwells dolefully on his inability to
reach Lake Bemba in consequence of the flooded state of the country, and
then his detention through the strifes of the Arabs and the natives. The
letter, however, is more occupied with reviewing the past than narrating
the present. In writing to Dr. Moffat, he enters more minutely than he
would have done with a less intimate and sympathetic friend into the
difficulties of his lot--difficulties that had been increased by some
from whom he might have expected other things. He had once seen a map
displayed in the rooms of the Geographical Society, substantially his
own, but with another name in conspicuous letters. On the Zambesi he had
had difficulties, little suspected, of which in the meantime he would
say nothing to the public. A letter to his daughter Agnes, after he had
gone to Bangweolo, dwells also much on his past difficulties--as if he
felt that the slow progress he was making at the moment needed
explanation or apology. Amid suc