We were now about three hundred yards from the village of Ujiji, and the crowds are dense about me. Suddenly I hear a voice on my right say, "Good morning, sir!" Startled at hearing this greeting in the midst of such a crowd of black people, I turn sharply around in search of the man, and see him at my side, with the blackest of faces, but animated and joyous--a man dressed in a long white shirt, with a turban of American sheeting around his woolly head, and I ask: "Who the mischief are you?" "I am Susi, the servant of Dr. Livingstone," said be, smiling, and showing a gleaming row of teeth. "What! Is Dr. Livingstone here?" "Yes, sir." "In this village?" "Yes, sir." "Are you sure?" "Sure, sure, sir. Why, I leave him just now." "Good morning, sir," said another voice. "Hallo," said I, "is this another one?" "Yes, sir." "Well, what is your name?" "My name is Chumah, sir." "What! are you Chumah, the friend of Wekotani?" "Yes, sir." "And is the-Doctor well?" "Not very well, sir." "Where has he been so long?" "In Manyuema." "Now, you Susi, run, and tell the Doctor I am coming." "Yes, sir," and off he darted like a madman. But by this time we were within two hundred yards of the village, and the multitude was getting denser, and almost preventing our march. Flags and streamers were out; Arabs and Wangwana were pushing their way through the natives in order to greet us, for according to their account, we belonged to them. But the great wonder of all was, "How did you come from Unyanyembe?" Soon Susi came running back, and asked me my name; he had told the Doctor I was coming, but the Doctor was too surprised to believe him, and when the Doctor asked him my name, Susi was rather staggered. But, during Susi's absence, the news had been conveyed to the Doctor that it was surely a white man that was coming, whose guns were firing, and whose flag could be seen; and the great Arab magnates of Ujiji--Mohammed bin Sali, Sayd bin Majid, Abid bin Suliman, Mohammed bin Gharib, and others--had gathered together before the Doctor's house, and the Doctor had come out from his veranda to discuss the matter and await my arrival. In the meantime, the head of the Expedition had halted, and the kirangozi was out of the ranks, holding his flag aloft, and Selim said to me, "I see the Doctor, sir. Oh, what an old man! He has got a white beard." And I--what would I not have given for a bit of friendly wilderness, where, unseen, I might vent my joy in some mad freak, such as idiotically biting my hand; turning a somersault, or slashing at trees, in order to allay those exciting feelings that were well-nigh uncontrollable. My heart beats fast, but I must not let my face betray my emotions, lest it shall detract from the dignity of a white man appearing under such extraordinary circumstances.