und a comfortable residence
under the eaves of a capacious hut. The Wanyamuezi porters next came
in at their own time, and proved to us how little worth are orders in
a land where every man, in his own opinion, is a lord, and no laws
prevail. Zungomero, bisected by the Mgeta, lies on flat ground, in a
very pretty amphitheatre of hills, S. lat. 7 deg. 26' 53", and E. long.
37 deg. 36' 45". It is extremely fertile, and very populous, affording
everything that man can wish, even to the cocoa and papwa fruits;
but the slave-trade has almost depopulated it, and turned its once
flourishing gardens into jungles. As I have already said, the people who
possess these lands are cowardly by nature, and that is the reason why
they are so much oppressed. The Wasuahili, taking advantage of their
timidity, flock here in numbers to live upon the fruits of their
labours. The merchants on the coast, too, though prohibited by their
Sultan from interfering with the natural course of trade, send their
hungry slaves, as touters, to entice all approaching caravans to
trade with their particular ports, authorising the touters to pay such
premiums as may be necessary for the purpose. Where they came from we
could not ascertain; but during our residence, a large party of the
Wasuahili marched past, bound for the coast, with one hundred head of
cattle, fifty slaves in chains, and as many goats. Halts always end
disastrously in Africa, giving men time for mischief;--and here was an
example of it. During the target-practice, which was always instituted
on such occasions to give confidence to our men, the little pepper-box
Rahan, my head valet, challenged a comrade to a duel with carbines.
Being stopped by those around him, he vented his wrath in terrible
oaths, and swung about his arms, until his gun accidentally went off,
and blew his middle finger off.

Baraka next, with a kind of natural influence of affinity when a row is
commenced, made himself so offensive to Bombay, as to send him running
to me so agitated with excitement that I thought him drunk. He seized my
hands, cried, and implored me to turn him off. What could this mean?
I could not divine; neither could he explain, further than that he had
come to a determination that I must send either him or Baraka to the
right-about; and his first idea was that he, and not Baraka, should be
the victim. Baraka's jealousy about his position had not struck me yet.
I called them both together and asked