Ulimengo, or the _World_, the incorrigible joker and hunter-in-chief of the Search and Livingstone’s expeditions, received a gold ring to encircle one of his thick black fingers, and a silver chain to suspend round his neck, which caused his mouth to expand gratefully. Rojab, who was soon reminded of the unlucky accident with Livingstone’s Journal in the muddy waters of the Mukondokwa, was endowed with a munificent gift which won him over to my service beyond fear of bribery. Manwa Sera, the redoubtable ambassador of Speke and Grant to Manwa Sera—the royal fugitive distressed by the hot pursuit of the Arabs—the leader of my second caravan in 1871, the chief of the party sent to Unyamyembé to the assistance of Livingstone in 1872, and now appointed Chief Captain of the Anglo-American Expedition, was rendered temporarily speechless with gratitude because I had suspended a splendid jet necklace from his neck, and ringed one of his fingers with a heavy seal ring. The historical Mabruki Speke, called by one of my predecessors “Mabruki the Bullheaded,” who has each time in the employ of European explorers conducted himself with matchless fidelity, and is distinguished for his hawk-eyed guardianship of their property and interests, exhibited extravagant rapture at the testimonial for past services bestowed on him; while the valiant, faithful, sturdy Chowpereh, the man of manifold virtues, was rewarded for his former worth with a silver dagger, gilt bracelet, and earrings. His wife was also made happy with a suitable gift, and the heir of the Chowpereh estate, a child of two years, was, at his father’s urgent request, rendered safe by vaccine from any attack of the smallpox during our absence in Africa. All great enterprises require a preliminary deliberative palaver, or, as the Wangwana call it, “Shauri.” In East Africa particularly shauris are much in vogue. Precipitate, energetic action is dreaded. “Poli, poli!” or “Gently!” is the warning word of caution given. The chiefs arranged themselves in a semi-circle on the day of the shauri, and I sat _à la Turque_ fronting them. “What is it, my friends? Speak your minds.” They hummed and hawed, looked at one another, as if on their neighbours’ faces they might discover the purport of their coming, but, all hesitating to begin, finally broke down in a loud laugh. Manwa Sera, always grave, unless hit dexterously with a joke, hereupon affected anger, and said, “_You_ speak, son of Safeni; verily we act like children! Will the master eat us?” Wadi, son of Safeni, thus encouraged to perform the spokesman’s duty, hesitates exactly two seconds, and then ventures with diplomatic blandness and _graciosity_. “We have come, master, with words. Listen. It is well we should know every step before we leap. A traveller journeys not without knowing whither he wanders. We have come to ascertain what lands you are bound for.”