For the meal, I thanked the Sheikh, as only an earnest and sincerely hungry man, now satisfied, could thank him.  Even if I had not spoken, my gratified looks had well informed him, under what obligations I had been laid to him.

Out came my pipe and tobacco-pouch.

“My friendly Sheikh, wilt thou smoke?”

“No, thanks!  Arabs never smoke.”

“Oh, if you don’t, perhaps you would not object to me smoking, in order to assist digestion?”

“Ngema—­good—­go on, master.”

Then began the questions, the gossipy, curious, serious, light questions: 

“How came the master?

“By the Mpwapwa road.”

“It is good.  Was the Makata bad?”

“Very bad.”

“What news from Zanzibar?”

“Good; Syed Toorkee has possession of Muscat, and Azim bin Ghis was slain in the streets.”

“Is this true, Wallahi?” (by God.)

“It is true.”

“Heh-heh-h!  This is news!”—­stroking his beard.

“Have you heard, master, of Suleiman bin Ali?”

“Yes, the Bombay governor sent him to Zanzibar, in a man-of-war, and Suleiman bin Ali now lies in the gurayza (fort).”

“Heh, that is very good.”

“Did you have to pay much tribute to the Wagogo?”

“Eight times; Hamed Kimiani wished me to go by Kiwyeh, but I declined, and struck through the forest to Munieka.  Hamed and Thani thought it better to follow me, than brave Kiwyeh by themselves.”

“Where is that Hajji Abdullah (Captain Burton) that came here, and Spiki?” (Speke.)

“Hajji Abdullah!  What Hajji Abdullah?  Ah!  Sheikh Burton we call him.  Oh, he is a great man now; a balyuz (a consul) at El Scham” (Damascus.)

“Heh-heh; balyuz!  Heh, at El Scham!  Is not that near Betlem el Kuds?” (Jerusalem.)

“Yes, about four days.  Spiki is dead.  He shot himself by accident.”

“Ah, ah, Wallah (by God), but this is bad news.  Spiki dead?  Mash-Allah!  Ough, he was a good man—­a good man!  Dead!”

“But where is this Kazeh, Sheikh Sayd?”

Kazeh?  Kazeh?  I never heard the name before.”

“But you were with Burton, and Speke, at Kazeh; you lived there several months, when you were all stopping in Unyanyembe; it must be close here; somewhere.  Where did Hajji Abdullah and Spiki live when they were in Unyanyembe?  Was it not in Musa Mzuri’s house?”

“That was in Tabora.”

“Well, then, where is Kazeh?  I have never seen the man yet who could tell me where that place is, and yet the three white men have that word down, as the name of the place they lived at when you were with them.  You must know where it is.”

“Wallahi, bana, I never heard the name; but stop, Kazeh, in Kinyamwezi, means ‘kingdom.’  Perhaps they gave that name to the place they stopped at.  But then, I used to call the first house Sny bin Amer’s house, and Speke lived at Musa Mzuri’s house, but both houses, as well as all the rest, are in Tabora.”