Part 34 (1/2)
”Great and good news truly, my friend.”
”Yes-in the name of G.o.d.”
”And whither art thou bound with thy caravan?”
”Sayd, the son of Majid, who came from Ujiji, hath told us of the road that the white man took, that he had arrived at Ujiji safely, and that he was on his way back to Unyanyembe. So we have thought that if the white man could go there, we could also. Lo, the Arabs come by the hundred by the white man's road, to get the ivory from Ujiji.
”I am that white man.”
”You?”
”Yes.”
”Why it was reported that you were dead--that you fought with the Wazavira.”
”Ah, my friend, these are the words of Njara, the son of Khamis. See”
(pointing to Livingstone), ”this is the white man, my father *, whom I saw at Ujiji. He is going with me to Unyanyembe to get his cloth, after which he will return to the great waters.”
* It is a courteous custom in Africa to address elderly people as ”Baba,” (Father.)
”Wonderful!--thou sayest truly.”
”What has thou to tell me of the white man at Unyanyembe?”
”Which white man?”
”The white man I left in the house of Sayd, the son of Salim--my house--at Kwihara.”
”He is dead.”
”Dead!”
”True.”
”You do not mean to say the white man is dead?”
”True--he is dead.”
”How long ago?”
”Many months now.”
”What did he die of?”
”Homa (fever).”
”Any more of my people dead?”
”I know not.”
”Enough.” I looked sympathetically at the Doctor, and he replied,
”I told you so. When you described him to me as a drunken man, I knew he could not live. Men who have been habitual drunkards cannot live in this country, any more than men who have become slaves to other vices.