The Arabs, my neighbours, endeavour to seem brave, but it is evident they are about despairing; I have heard it rumoured that the Arabs of Kwihara, if Tabora is taken, will start en masse for the coast, and give the country up to Mirambo. If such are their intentions, and they are really carried into effect, I shall be in a pretty mess. However, if they do leave me, Mirambo will not reap any benefit from my stores, nor from Livingstone's either, for I shall burn the whole house, and everything in it. August 24th.--The American flag is still waving above my house, and the Arabs are still in Unyanyembe. About 10 A.M., a messenger came from Tabora, asking us if we were not going to assist them against Mirambo. I felt very much like going out to help them; but after debating long upon the pros and cons of it,--asking myself, Was it prudent? Ought I to go? What will become of the people if I were killed? Will they not desert me again? What was the fate of Khamis bin Abdullah?--I sent word that I would not go; that they ought to feel perfectly at home in their tembes against such a force as Mirambo had, that I should be glad if they could induce him to come to Kwihara, in which case I would try and pick him off. They say that Mirambo, and his principal officer, carry umbrellas over their heads, that he himself has long hair like a Mnyamwezi pagazi, and a beard. If he comes, all the men carrying umbrellas will have bullets rained on them in the hope that one lucky bullet may hit him. According to popular ideas, I should make a silver bullet, but I have no silver with me. I might make a gold one. About, noon I went over to see Sheikh bin Nasib, leaving about 100 men inside the house to guard it while I was absent. This old fellow is quite a philosopher in his way. I should call him a professor of minor philosophy. He is generally so sententious--fond of aphorisms, and a very deliberate character. I was astonished to find him so despairing. His aphorisms have deserted him, his philosophy has not been able to stand against disaster. He listened to me, more like a moribund, than one possessing all the means of defence and offence. I loaded his two-pounder with ball, and grape, and small slugs of iron, and advised him not to fire it until Mirambo's people were at his gates. About 4 p.m. I heard that Mirambo had deported himself to Kazima, a place north-west of Tabora a couple of miles. August 26th.--The Arabs sallied out this morning to attack Kazima, but refrained, because Mirambo asked for a day's grace, to eat the beef he had stolen from them. He has asked them impudently to come to-morrow morning, at which time he says he will give them plenty of fighting. Kwihara is once more restored to a peaceful aspect, and fugitives no longer throng its narrow limits in fear and despair. August 27th.--Mirambo retreated during the night; and when the Arabs went in force to attack his village of Kazima, they found it vacant.