g more to say," responded
Khamis.

"We are, we are," they all replied.

"Very well, the march begins to-morrow," said Khamis bin Abdullah, "at
one hour before sunrise. We follow the old road as far as Mbumi, when
we shall turn south."

The news was soon communicated through the host of followers, and each
knot and group had their own opinions, which they discussed with, as
much acumen and wisdom as their superiors had evinced.

But not to lose eight of our friends Simba and Moto, let us listen to
what they have to say concerning the unusual line of route about to be
adopted.

It is night. The camp-fires are blazing by the score; huts are ranged
around the immense circle, which is more than 500 feet in diameter, and
scores of huts dot the centre of the circle, with their doors opening
according as the taste, fancy, or caprice of the builders suggested.
The huts of the Arab chiefs are arranged in a line close to one another,
but still far enough to insure the privacy and exclusion which every
Arab so much loves for the female portion of his household.

Near the tent of Amer bin Osman are seated before the usual fire-pile
the faithful slaves Simba and Moto with the fundis of the other Arabs;
and on carpets of Oman manufacture are placed Selim, the son of Amer,
Khamis, the young son of Khamis bin Abdullah, the leader, Isa, the son
of Sheikh Thani, and Abdullah and Mussoud, brothers, aged fourteen and
twelve respectively, the sons of Sheikh Mohammed.

We hear Selim's voice first, as we pay him this attention for
personating the hero of this veracious romance.

Said he: "Well, Simba;--ah, Isa, you do not know what a treasure Simba
is; he is so great, so wise, so strong!--what do you think of the
southern road? do you think we shall see more fun?"

"My young master, I fear so," answered Simba, while at the same time he
never lifted his head, so apparently intent was he in keeping his
flint-lock musket clean--a favourite occupation with Simba.

"You fear so!" said Isa, in a tone of surprise. "What, you fear that we
shall see some fun! Fie, Simba! did you not hear your young master say
you were brave and strong, and why should you fear we should have some
fun?" he asked, in a sneering tone.

Simba, turning his wise and large eyes upon Isa, said: "Ah, Master Isa,
you are a boy, and cannot understand."

"Hear the slave!" shouted Isa, laughing boisterously at Simba's
solemnity. "Hear the man!" he repeated. "Isa