Day after day these now contented people lay around on deck, drinking in health from the salt sea air. All but one was shaking off every form of disease contracted in their long wanderings. This one was a woman who was slowly dying, and who was kept alive alone by the thought of seeing her home once more. At last the hills of Zanzibar arose over the sea, and as these untutored Arabs traced their well-known outline, their joy was unbounded, and Stanley felt repaid for the self-denial that had refused a passage home from Loanda to stay by his faithful followers to the very last. Their excitement increased as the caves and inlets grew more distinct, and at last the cocoanut and mangrove-trees became visible. As the vessel entered port their impatience could not be restrained, and the captain of the vessel, sympathizing with their feelings, had no sooner dropped anchor than he manned the boats, while the eager creatures crowded the gangway and ladder, each struggling to be the first to set foot on their native island. As boat-load after boat-load reached the shore, with a common feeling they knelt on the beach and cried "Allah!" and offered up their humble thanksgiving to God, who had brought them safely back to their homes. The news of their arrival spread like wild-fire on every side, and soon their relatives and friends came flocking in from all directions, and glad shouts, and wild embracings, and floods of glad tears made a scene that stirred Stanley's heart to its profoundest depths. Still, there was a dark side to the picture. Scores of those that came rushing forward to greet them, fell back shedding tears, not of gladness, but of sorrow, for they found not those whom they fondly hoped to meet. Of the three hundred that had set out, nearly thee years before, only one hundred and twelve were left--and one of these, the poor sick woman, lived only long enough to be clasped in her father's arms, when she died. The great journey was ended, and Stanley, after paying off the living and the relatives of the dead, at last started for home. As he was about to enter the boat that was to bear him to the ship, the brave Uledi and the chiefs shoved it from shore, and seizing Stanley, bore him through the surf on their shoulders. And when the latter stood on the deck, as the vessel slowly steamed away, the last object he saw on shore through his eyes filled with tears, was his Arab friends watching him till he should disappear from sight. An enthusiastic reception awaited him in England, while from every part of the continent distinguished honors were bestowed upon him. He had performed one of the most daring marches on record--traced out, foot by foot, one of the largest lakes of Central Africa, followed its mightiest river, which, from the creation, had been wrapped in mystery, from its source to its mouth, and made a new map of the "_dark continent_."