applauded.

Speke was now, towards the end of May, looking forward to the arrival of
Grant.

To propitiate the despot he sent a compass, greatly to the delight of
Mtesa, who no sooner saw it than he jumped and "_wohed_" with intense
excitement, and said it was the greatest present Bana had ever given
him, for it was the thing by which he found out all the roads and
countries.

It had been arranged that Grant should come by water; but the natives,
fearing to trust themselves on the lake, brought him all the distance on
a litter.

At length, on the 27th, the sound of guns announced the arrival of
Grant, and Speke hurried off to meet his friend, who was now able to
limp about a little, and to laugh over the accounts he gave of his
travels.

The travellers forthwith began to make arrangements for proceeding on to
Unyoro, governed by a chief named Kamrasi, of despicable character and
considered merciless and cruel, even among African potentates,
scattering death and torture around at the mere whim of the moment;
while he was inhospitable, covetous, and grasping, yet too cowardly to
declare war against the King of the Waganda, who had deprived him of
portions of his dominions. The Waganda people were, therefore, very
unwilling to escort the travellers into his territory; and Colonel
Congou declared that if compelled to go, he was a dead man, as he had
once led an army into Unyoro.

The travellers' great object was to reach the spot where the Nile was
supposed to flow out of the Victoria Nyanza, and proceed down the stream
in boats.

Speke had written to Petherick, and on the 28th of June news arrived
that white men were at Gani enquiring for the travellers. Speke
consequently informed the king that all he required was a large escort
to accompany them through Usoga and Kidi to Gani, as further delay in
communicating with Petherick might frustrate the chance of opening the
Nile trade with Uganda. The king replied that he would assemble his
officers, and consult them on the subject. He exhibited his folly,
however, by allowing his people to make an inroad into Unyoro and carry
off eighty cows belonging to Kamrasi. To their horror, Kyengo, the
chief magician, informed them that the king, being anxious to pry into
the future, had resolved to adopt a strong measure with that end in
view. This was the sacrifice of a child. The ceremony, which it fell
to the lot of Kyengo to perform, is almost too cruel to describe.