negro. Not
being aware of the value of the offering, I simply requested the Sheikh
to give him four yards of American sheeting, and thought no more about
the matter, until presently I found the cloth returned. The "Sultan"
could not think of receiving such a paltry present from me, when on the
former journey he got so much; if he showed this cloth at home, nobody
would believe him, but would say he took much more and concealed it from
his family, wishing to keep all his goods to himself. I answered that my
footing in the country had been paid for on the last journey, and unless
he would accept me as any other common traveller, he had better walk
away; but the little Sheikh, a timid, though very gentlemanly creature,
knowing the man, and dreading the consequences of too high a tone,
pleaded for him, and proposed as a fitting hongo, one dubuani, one
sahari, and eight yards merikani, as the American sheeting is called
here. This was pressed by the jemadar, and acceded to by myself, as the
very utmost I could afford. Lion's Claw, however, would not accept it;
it was too far below the mark of what he got last time. He therefore
returned the cloths to the Sheikh, as he could get no hearing from
myself, and retreated in high dudgeon, threatening the caravan with
a view of his terrible presence on the morrow. Meanwhile the little
Sheikh, who always carried a sword fully two-thirds the length of
himself, commenced casting bullets for his double-barrelled rifle,
ordered the Wanguana to load their guns, and came wheedling up to me for
one more cloth, as it was no use hazarding the expedition's safety for
four yards of cloth. This is a fair specimen of tax-gathering, within
twelve miles of the coast, by a native who claims the protection of
Zanzibar. We shall soon see what they are further on. The result of
experience is, that, ardent as the traveller is to see the interior
of Africa, no sooner has he dealings with the natives, than his whole
thoughts tend to discovering some road where he won't be molested, or a
short cut, but long march, to get over the ground.

Quite undisturbed, we packed and marched as usual, and soon passed Nzasa
close to the river, which is only indicated by a line of trees running
through a rich alluvial valley. We camped at the little settlement of
Kizoto, inhospitably presided over by Phanze Mukia ya Nyani or Monkey's
Tail, who no sooner heard of our arrival than he sent a demand for his
"rights." One du