ing would glory in my humiliation. M'Gambi,
his brother, who had formerly played the part of king, now sat upon the
ground a few feet from Kamrasi, who was seated upon the same stool of
copper that M'Gambi had used when I first saw him at M'rooli. Several of
his chiefs also sat upon the straw with which the porch was littered. I
made a "salaam" and took my seat upon my stool.

Not a word passed between us for about five minutes, during which time
the king eyed me most attentively, and made various remarks to the
chiefs who were present. At length he asked me why I had not been to see
him before. I replied, because I had been starved in his country, and I
was too weak to walk. He said I should soon be strong, as he would now
give me a good supply of food; but that he could not send provisions
to Shooa Moru, as Fowooka held that country. Without replying to this
wretched excuse for his neglect, I merely told him that I was happy to
have seen him before my departure, as I was not aware until recently
that I had been duped by M'Gambi. He answered me very coolly, saying
that although I had not seen him, he had nevertheless seen me, as he was
among the crowd of native escort on the day that we left M'rooli. Thus
he had watched our start at the very place where his brother M'Gambi had
impersonated the king.

Kamrasi was a remarkably fine man, tall and well proportioned, with
a handsome face of a dark brown color, but a peculiarly sinister
expression. He was beautifully clean, and instead of wearing the bark
cloth common among the people, he was dressed in a fine mantle of black
and white goatskins, as soft as chamois leather. His people sat on the
ground at some distance from his throne; when they approached to address
him on any subject they crawled upon their hands and knees to his feet,
and touched the ground with their foreheads.

True to his natural instincts, the king commenced begging, and being
much struck with the Highland costume, he demanded it as a proof of
friendship, saying that if I refused I could not be his friend. The
watch, compass, and double Fletcher rifle were asked for in their turn,
all of which I refused to give him. He appeared much annoyed, therefore
I presented him with a pound canister of powder, a box of caps, and a
few bullets. He asked, "What's the use of the ammunition if you won't
give me your rifle?" I explained that I had already given him a gun, and
that he had a rifle of Speke's. Disgust