On the evening of March 2, Livingstone, tired and hungry, came within eight miles of the Portuguese settlement of Tete.  He sent forward the letters of recommendation which he had received from the Portuguese on the other side of the continent.  Before daylight the following morning he was aroused by two officers and a company of soldiers, who brought the materials for a civilized breakfast—­the first of which he had partaken since he left Loanda, eighteen months before.  “It was,” he says, “the most refreshing breakfast of which I ever partook.”

Tete stands on the Zambesi, three hundred miles from its mouth.  The commandant received Livingstone kindly, supplied his men with provisions for immediate use, gave them land upon which to raise future supplies, and granted them permission to hunt elephants in the neighborhood on their own account.  Before long they had established a brisk trade in fire-wood, as their countrymen had done at Loanda.  They certainly manifested none of the laziness which has been said to be characteristic of the African races.  Thirty elephant tusks remained of those forwarded by Sekeletu.  Ten of these were sold for cotton cloth for the men.  The others were deposited with the authorities, with directions that in case Livingstone should never return they should be sold, and the proceeds given to the men.  He told them that death alone should prevent him from coming back.  “Nay, father,” said the men, “you will not die; you will return, and take us back to Sekeletu.”

He remained at Tete a month, waiting for the close of the sickly season in the low delta at the mouths of the river, and then descended to the Portuguese town of Kilimane.  Here he remained six weeks, when an English vessel arrived with supplies and money for him.  Two of his attendants only had come down the river.  They begged hard to be allowed to accompany him to England.  In vain Livingstone told them that they would die if they went to so cold a country.  “That is nothing,” said one; “let me die at your feet.”  He at last decided to take with him Sekwebu, the leader of the party, to whose good sense, bravery, and tact he owed much of his success.  The sea-waves rose high, as the boat conveyed them to the ship.  Sekwebu, who had never seen a larger body of water than the shallow Lake Ngami, was terrified.

“Is this the way you go?” he inquired.

“Yes; don’t you see it is?” replied Livingstone, encouragingly.

When Livingstone reached his countrymen on the ship he could scarcely speak his native language; the words would not come at his call.  He had spoken it but little for thirteen years; and for three and a half, except for a short time at Loanda, not at all.

Sekwebu became a great favorite on shipboard, but he was bewildered by the crowd of new ideas that rushed upon his mind.  “What a strange country this is,” he said, “all water!” When they reached Mauritius, he became insane, and tried to jump overboard.  Livingstone’s wife had, during her visit to their country, become a great favorite with the Makololo, who called her ’Ma Robert’—­“Robert’s Mother”—­in honor of her young son.