One ass, known by the name of Muscati, a high-spirited animal from Arabia, possessed braying powers which almost equalled the roar of a lion in volume, and really appeared to enjoy immensely the admiration he excited. His asinine soul took great delight in braying at the unsophisticated Africans of the trans-Luama, for his bray sent them flying in all directions. Scores of times during a day’s march we were asked the name of the beast, and, having learnt it they were never tired of talking about the “Mpunda.” One must not rashly impute all the blame to the Arabs and Wa-Swahili of the Zanzibar coast for their excesses in Manyema, for the natives are also in a way to blame. Just as the Saxon and Dane and Jute, invited by the Britons, became their masters, so the Arabs, invited by the Manyema to assist them against one another, have become their tyrants. Bribes were offered to us three times by Manyema chiefs to assist them in destroying their neighbours, to whom they are of near kin, and with whom they have almost daily intimate relations. Our refusal of ivory and slaves appeared to surprise the chiefs, and they expressed the opinion that we white men were not as good as the Arabs, for—though it was true we did not rob them of their wives, ravish and steal their daughters, enslave their sons, or despoil them of a single article—the Arabs would have assisted them. One of my men, who knew Manyema of old, said, “I told you, master, what kind of people these were: they have always got a little war on hand, and they only wait the arrival of the Arabs to begin it. The quarrel is always with their nearest relatives and friends, whom, however, for the sake of the family alliances between them, they always take care to warn. I was once with Mohammed bin Gharib (Livingstone’s friend) when he undertook to fight a tribe for Mwana Ngoy of Kizambala on the Luama. We were ten hours firing away as fast as we could, but not a single soul was wounded of either party! “Mwana Ngoy, you must know, had told his friend the hour Mohammed would begin, and his friend obligingly left the field clear. Some of the boldest had amused themselves by showing their heads, just to let us know that they were there, but I assure you no one was hurt in the least. “Of late years it has not been so bloodless, because the Arabs have learned their tricks. When they set out now, they never tell their native confederate when they intend to begin, because they don’t like to throw away their powder for nothing. In this manner large numbers of slaves have been captured and many men killed. After such an event, both sides, those who have suffered and those who were the cause and who bribed the Arabs to the war, fall to weeping and abusing the Arabs violently, and with pathetic cries bewail the murdered, but never think of accusing themselves.” The above is the story of Wadi Safeni, the coxswain of the boat on Lake Victoria.