April 1st.--To-day the Expedition suffered a loss in the death of the grey Arab horse presented by Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar. The night previous I had noticed that the horse was suffering. Bearing in mind what has been so frequently asserted, namely, that no horses could live in the interior of Africa because of the tsetse, I had him opened, and the stomach, which I believed to be diseased, examined. Besides much undigested matama and grass there were found twenty-five short, thick, white worms, sticking like leeches into the coating of the stomach, while the intestines were almost alive with the numbers of long white worms. I was satisfied that neither man nor beast could long exist with such a mass of corrupting life within him. In order that the dead carcase might not taint the valley, I had it buried deep in the ground, about a score of yards from the encampment. From such a slight cause ensued a tremendous uproar from Kingaru--chief of the village--who, with his brother-chiefs of neighbouring villages, numbering in the aggregate two dozen wattled huts, had taken counsel upon the best means of mulcting the Musungu of a full doti or two of Merikani, and finally had arrived at the conviction that the act of burying a dead horse in their soil without "By your leave, sir," was a grievous and fineable fault. Affecting great indignation at the unpardonable omission, he, Kingaru, concluded to send to the Musungu four of his young men to say to him that "since you have buried your horse in my ground, it is well; let him remain there; but you must pay me two doti of Merikani." For reply the messengers were told to say to the chief that I would prefer talking the matter over with himself face to face, if he would condescend to visit me in my tent once again. As the village was but a stone's throw from our encampment, before many minutes had elapsed the wrinkled elder made his appearance at the door of my tent with about half the village behind him. The following dialogue which took place will serve to illustrate the tempers of the people with whom I was about to have a year's trading intercourse: White Man.--"Are you the great chief of Kingaru?" Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes." W. M.--"The great, great chief?" Kingaru.--"Huh-uh. Yes." W. M.--"How many soldiers have you?" Kingaru.--" Why?" W. M.--"How many fighting men have you?" Kingaru.--"None." W. M.--"Oh! I thought you might have a thousand men with you, by your going to fine a strong white man, who has plenty of guns and soldiers, two doti for burying a dead horse." Kingaru (rather perplexed).--"No; I have no soldiers. I have only a few young men." W. M.--"Why do you come and make trouble, then?"