like the Arab "tope" or the
Roman toga. Several of the headmen now explained to us the atrocious
treachery of Debono's men, who had been welcomed as friends of Speke and
Grant, but who had repaid the hospitality by plundering and massacring
their hosts. I assured them that no one would be more wroth than Speke
when I should make him aware of the manner in which his name had been
used, and that I should make a point of reporting the circumstance to
the British Government. At the same time I advised them not to trust
any but white people should others arrive in my name or in the names of
Speke and Grant. I upheld their character as that of Englishmen, and I
begged them to state if ever they had deceived them. They replied that
"there could not be better men." I answered, "You MUST trust me, as I
trust entirely in you, and have placed myself in your hands; but if you
have ever had cause to mistrust a white man, kill me at once!--either
kill me or trust in me; but let there be no suspicions."

They seemed much pleased with the conversation, and a man stepped
forward and showed me a small string of blue beads that Speke bad given
him for ferrying him across the river. This little souvenir of my
old friend was most interesting. After a year's wandering and many
difficulties, this was the first time that I had actually come upon
his track. Many people told me that they had known Speke and Grant; the
former bore the name of "Mollegge" (the bearded one), while Grant had
been named "Masanga" (the elephant's tusk), owing to his height. The
latter had been wounded at Lucknow during the Indian mutiny, and I spoke
to the people of the loss of his finger. This crowned my success, as
they knew without doubt that I had seen him. It was late, therefore I
begged the crowd to depart, but to send a messenger the first thing in
the morning to inform Kamrasi who we were, and to beg him to permit us
to visit him without loss of time.

A bundle of straw was laid on the ground for Mrs. Baker and myself,
and, in lieu of other beds, the ground was our resting-place. We were
bitterly cold that night, as the guns were packed up in the large
blanket, and, not wishing to expose them, we were contented with a
Scotch plaid each. Ibrahim, Saat, and Richarn watched by turns.

On the following morning an immense crowd of natives thronged to see us.
There was a very beautiful tree about a hundred yards from the village,
capable of shading upward of a thou