Bagamoyo.

The day before my departure from Zanzibar the American Consul,
having just habited himself in his black coat, and taking with him
an extra black hat, in order to be in state apparel, proceeded with
me to the Sultan's palace. The prince had been generous to me;
he had presented me with an Arab horse, had furnished me with
letters of introduction to his agents, his chief men, and
representatives in the interior, and in many other ways had
shown himself well disposed towards me.

The palace is a large, roomy, lofty, square house close to the
fort, built of coral, and plastered thickly with lime mortar.
In appearance it is half Arabic and half Italian. The shutters
are Venetian blinds painted a vivid green, and presenting a
striking contrast to the whitewashed walls. Before the great,
lofty, wide door were ranged in two crescents several Baluch and
Persian mercenaries, armed with curved swords and targes of
rhinoceros hide. Their dress consisted of a muddy-white cotton
shirt, reaching to the ancles, girdled with a leather belt thickly
studded with silver bosses.

As we came in sight a signal was passed to some person inside the
entrance. When within twenty yards of the door, the Sultan, who
was standing waiting, came down the steps, and, passing through the
ranks, advanced toward us, with his right hand stretched out, and a
genial smile of welcome on his face. On our side we raised our
hats, and shook hands with him, after which, doing according as he
bade us, we passed forward, and arrived on the highest step near
the entrance door. He pointed forward; we bowed and arrived at