Mr. Bonny’s story of him and his malevolence to Major Barttelot personally had led me to imagine that I had misjudged his character, but at this interview I was confirmed in my previous impressions of him and of Tippu-Tib. It was simply this, that both Arabs were quite capable of shedding pagan blood without concern as to its guilt, but would not plan out any cold-blooded conspiracy to murder Arabs or white men for a less cause than revenge. Now as neither had cause to plot the murder of Barttelot, or to conspire for the destruction of the rear column, there ought absolutely to be no grounds for supposing that they had ever imagined such mischiefs. I am not disposed to doubt that Tippu-Tib did send or lead a contingent of carriers in person to the Aruwimi. His excuses for his early return--on the plea that he could not find the camp--may be told to the “Marines.” They prove that he was lukewarm, that he did not care sufficiently for the promised reward, and he ought to have been dropped out of mind. When, however, the young officers pleaded, and entreated, and coaxed him, both he and his nephew saw clearly that the service so eagerly and earnestly desired was worth money, and they raised their price; not out of ill-will, but out of an uncontrollable desire to make more profit. The obligations Tippu was under by contract, the gratitude due me for my assistance, were all forgotten in the keen and sharpened appetite for money. The Major possessed no resources to meet their demands, the worthy uncle and nephew believed that both he and Jameson were rich, and the Expedition to be under the patronage of wealthy men. “Why, then,” say they both with smug complacency, “if they want us so badly, let them pay. Stanley has been good to us, that is true (see the Major’s report), but a man can’t work for his friend for nothing--friendship is too dear at the price”--and so they took another turn of the screw. It was done effectively I admit. If Tippu-Tib appeared a trifle indifferent he knew how to assume it, he knew he would be coaxed to good humour with gifts. If Salim bin Mohammed appeared a little vexed, sour, or talked of wounded susceptibilities, the Major opened his boxes and chose a gay uniform jacket, or sent a forty-five guinea rifle, or a bale of cloth, or a pair of ivory handled revolvers; if Salim bin Massoud his brother-in-law talked a little big, his condescending kindness was secured and stimulated by a rich bounty. Salim had come in person, he said, to give a verbal reply to my note of the 17th, and he was ordered by his uncle to send couriers immediately back to him with my words.