below Lamu, and journeyed right round Kilimanjaro, one of the
highest known mountains in Africa. Poor fellow, he had died
of fever when on his return journey, and within a day's march
of Mombasa. It does seem hard that he should have gone off thus
when within a few hours of safety, and after having survived
so many perils, but so it was. His hunters buried him, and then
came on to Lamu in a dhow. Our friend the Consul suggested to
us that we had better try and hire these men, and accordingly
on the following morning we started to interview the party,
accompanied by an interpreter.

In due course we found them in a mud hut on the outskirts of
the town. Three of the men were sitting outside the hut, and
fine frank-looking fellows they were, having a more or less civilized
appearance. To them we cautiously opened the object of our visit,
at first with very scant success. They declared that they could
not entertain any such idea, that they were worn and weary with
long travelling, and that their hearts were sore at the loss
of their master. They meant to go back to their homes and rest
awhile. This did not sound very promising, so by way of effecting
a diversion I asked where the remainder of them were. I was
told there were six, and I saw but three. One of the men said
they slept in the hut, and were yet resting after their labours
-- 'sleep weighed down their eyelids, and sorrow made their hearts
as lead: it was best to sleep, for with sleep came forgetfulness.
But the men should be awakened.'

Presently they came out of the hut, yawning -- the first two
men being evidently of the same race and style as those already
before us; but the appearance of the third and last nearly made