The deputation then rose and withdrew, taking the fossil with them. We retired to our tent, but had not been seated more than a few moments when the sound of excited exclamations from the men caused us, ever on alert for news of our missing men, to spring to our feet. We rushed outside and saw an excited, heaving group of our men volubly discussing some object in their midst. I shouted an order, and the group separated and led towards our tent a man apparently in the last stage of exhaustion. Commanding silence, we called Ramathani to interpret. The man straightened himself, and we were horrified to observe a great gaping wound in his right arm, that looked like a sword-cut, which had been roughly stitched up with fibre. He announced amid breathless silence that he was the sole survivor of our five Swahilis and the eight native allies who had accompanied them. Our men groaned and wept at the news, but we again commanded silence, and bit by bit, by dint of careful questioning, we extracted the whole wretched story. “Your four Zanzibaris,” said the native, “Sadi, Hamiz, Abdullah, and Marazuki, and one M’kamba, with eight of we Munithu people, slipped away from Wa’sungu so that we might collect cattle and sheep. We went very far and got many cattle. Presently we crossed the border of G’nainu into Nimbere, and there Sadi ben Heri, who commanded, seized many cattle and sheep from the Wa’Nimbere, who at once attacked us; but your men drove them away with their guns. We could not turn back, as the Wa’G’nainu were behind us, and Sadi ben Heri said, ‘Let us go on through this country, and so come to Munithu, where we shall be safe.’ We therefore crossed Nimbere, being many times attacked by the ‘Washenzi’ (savages) on the way, but the Zanzibaris always drove them off with their guns; but afterwards they had not many cartridges left.