mistaken, for I have taken a solemn, enduring oath, an oath to be kept while the least hope of life remains in me, not to be tempted to break the resolution I have formed, never to give up the search, until I find Livingstone alive, or find his dead body; and never to return home without the strongest possible proofs that he is alive, or that he is dead.  No living man, or living men, shall stop me, only death can prevent me.  But death—­not even this; I shall not die, I will not die, I cannot die!  And something tells me, I do not know what it is—­perhaps it is the ever-living hopefulness of my own nature, perhaps it is the natural presumption born out of an abundant and glowing vitality, or the outcome of an overweening confidence in oneself—­anyhow and everyhow, something tells me to-night I shall find him, and—­write it larger—­find him!  Find him!  Even the words are inspiring.  I feel more happy.  Have I uttered a prayer?  I shall sleep calmly to-night.

I have felt myself compelled to copy out of my Diary the above notes, as they explain, written as they are on the spot, the vicissitudes of my “Life at Unyanyembe.”  To me they appear to explain far better than any amount of descriptive writing, even of the most graphic, the nature of the life I led.  There they are, unexaggerated, in their literality, precisely as I conceived them at the time they happened.  They speak of fevers without number to myself and men, they relate our dangers, and little joys, our annoyances and our pleasures, as they occurred.

CHAPTER X. TO MRERA, UKONONGO.

Departure from Unyanyembe.—­The expedition reorganized.-Bombay.—­ Mr. Shaw returns sick to Unyanyembe.—­A noble forest.-The fever described.—­Happiness of the camp.—­A park-land.—­Herds of game and noble sport.—­A mutiny.—­Punishment of the ringleaders.  Elephants.—­Arrival at Mrera

The 20th of September had arrived.  This was the day I had decided to cut loose from those who tormented me with their doubts, their fears, and beliefs, and commence the march to Ujiji by a southern route.  I was very weak from the fever that had attacked me the day before, and it was a most injudicious act to commence a march under such circumstances.  But I had boasted to Sheikh bin Nasib that a white man never breaks his word, and my reputation as a white man would have been ruined had I stayed behind, or postponed the march, in consequence of feebleness.

I mustered the entire caravan outside the tembe, our flags and streamers were unfurled, the men had their loads resting on the walls, there was considerable shouting, and laughing, and negroidal fanfaronnade.  The Arabs had collected from curiosity’s sake to see us off—­all except Sheikh bin Nasib, whom I had offended by my asinine opposition to his wishes.  The old Sheikh took to his bed, but sent his son to bear me a last morsel of Philosophic