"We are seated--the doctor and I--with our backs to the wall. The Arabs take seats on our left. More than a thousand natives are in our front, filling the whole square densely, indulging their curiosity and discussing the fact of two white men meeting at Ujiji--one just come from Manyuema, in the west, the other from Unyanyembe, in the east. "Conversation began. What about? I declare I have forgotten. Oh! we mutually asked questions of one another, such as: 'How did you come here?' and 'Where have you been all this long time? the world has believed you to be dead.' Yes, that was the way it began; but whatever the doctor informed me, and that which I communicated to him, I cannot exactly report, for I found myself gazing at him, conning the wonderful man, at whose side I now sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features, and the slightly wearied look he wore, were all imparting intelligence to me--the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I heard the words, 'Take what you want, but find Livingstone.' What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me, and unvarnished truths I was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb witnesses relate to me? "Oh, reader, had you been at my side that day at Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work! Had you been there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my note-book out and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for. But his account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions--into a most marvelous history of deeds. "The Arabs rose up with a delicacy I approved, as if they intuitively knew that we ought to be left to ourselves. I sent Bombay with them to give them the news they also wanted so much to know about the affairs at Unyanyembe. Sayd bin Majid was the father of the gallant young man whom I saw at Masange, and who fought with me at Zimbizo, and who soon afterwards was killed by Mirambo's Ruga--Ruga in the forest of Wilyankuru; and knowing I had been there, he earnestly desired to hear the tale of the fight; but they all had friends at Unyanyembe, and it was but natural that they should be anxious to hear of what concerned them. "After giving orders to Bombay and Asmani for the provisioning of the men of the expedition, I called 'Kaif-Halek,' or 'how do ye do,' and introduced him to Dr. Livingstone as one of the soldiers in charge of certain goods left at Unyanyembe, whom I had compelled to accompany me to Ujiji that he might deliver in person to his master, the letter-bag he had been intrusted with by Dr. Kirk.