How I Found Livingstone Travels Adventures And Discoveries Of Central Africa

Front matter

g^

. 7 SVSh

Slttrrar^r

Contents

OEAPTEB I ZANZIBAR.

Arrival at Zanzibar — Bocoptiou by Captain Webb, U.S. Consul — • Life at Zanzibar — System of Trade with tho Interior — The town of Zanzibar — Population — Introduction to Dr. Kirk — Bishop Tozer Pages 1 to 20

CEAPXEE II.

Chapter I. Zanzibar

ONE of the fruitfulest islands of the Indian Ocean is Zanzibar. When I left Bombay for the purpose of leading the 'New York Herald' expedition into the unknown heart of Africa, my abstract conception of the island was that it was but a little better than a great sandbar, or a patch of Sahara, with a limited oasis or two, surrounded by the sea, rife with cholera, fever, and nameless but dreadful diseases ; populated by ignorant blacks, with great thick lips, whose general appearance might be compared to Du Ohaillu's gorillas, who were ruled over by a despotic and surly Arab.

How it bad become thus distorted in my imagination I cannot conceive. I had read books and articles on Zanzibar, which were by no means unfavourably disposed towards it, yet it floated in my brain as an inland whose total submersion in the sea would benefit the world* I am not certain, but I think I caught the* idea from Capt. Burton's 'Lake Regions of Central Africa/ along with many other eccentric ideas. The whole book, although wonderfully clever and truthful, is somewhat bilious in tone, and I think its effect was manifest in me by a rush of a part of it** MIo into my head, for while I read it I saw a lethal stroum, which drifted with me towards the eternal feverish region of Africa, from which a sickening presentiment sail there was no return. But hail! to ihe Mossed dawn thut dispels the dreadful dream under which you groaned in agony throughout the night. Hail ! to tho Irth*r that brings good news, and hail! to the wnlant chorea of Zanzibar, that said to me, "Hope; tilings arc svlrlom so bad as they are painted."

It was in the early morning that I mailed through the channel that separates ZanxJbar from Africa. The high lands of the continent loomtvl lik^ a lengthening shadow in the grey of dawn* The island lay on our left, distant but a mile, coming out of its nhrowl of foggy foldfl, bit by bit as the day iulvanrvrf, until it finally rose clearly into view, as fair in ap|u*arawv an the fuiroftt of the gems of creation. It ap|waiY«l low, but not flat; there were gentlo fU'vatiottH twp{»ni# hither and yon above the languid but tfnuvful tojm of tho cocoa-treoB that lined flu* margin of flu* island, and there were dcprctwioiis vinihlu at tigreetibli* inU*rva)Mt to indicate where a cool gloom might U* fount! by tlwwe who sought relief from a hot HUH. With th*,* tiou of tho thin line of fe*aml> over whi«/h th<* waiter rolled itself with a conntant niunnur ntid moan, the island seemed buried titider one dwp stratum of verdure*

The noble bosom of the ntnut bore 9e\vnl dlicm^ speeding In and out of the bay of SSunxilftr with Imllying sails. Towards the south, above tho *ea line of t)m horizon, there appeared tho naked m&Kte of t&vt*ml large shipa? and to tho east of these a dense ma*s of

*t

N

JAK. 1871.] ZANZIBAR. 3

white, flat-topped houses. This was Zanzibar, the capital of the island ; — which soon resolved itself into a pretty large and compact city, with all the characteristics of Arab architecture. Above some of the largest houses lining the bay front of the city streamed the blood-red banner of the Sultan, Syed Burghash, and the flags of the American, English, North G-erman Confederation, and French Consulates. In the harbor were thirteen large ships, four Zanzibar men-of-war, one English man-ofwar — the " Nymphe," two American, one French, one Portuguese, two English, and two German merchantmen, besides numerous dhows hailing from Johanna and Mayotte of the Comoro Islands, dhows from Muscat and Cutch— traders between India, the Persian Oulf, and Zanzibar.

It was with the spirit of true hospitality and courtesy that Capt. Francis B. Webb, United States Consul, (fornoerly of the United States Nary,) received me. Had this gentleman not rendered me such needful service, I must have condescended to take board and lodging at a house known as " Charley's," called after the proprietor, who is a Frenchman with a crooked nose, and withal very eccentric, who has won considerable local notoriety for harboring penniless itinerants,-and manifesting a kindly spirit always, though hidden under such a rugged front ; or I should have been obliged to pitch my doubled-clothed American drill tent on the sandbeach of this tropical island, art in-no-wise desirable thing.

But Capt. Webb's opportune proposal to make his commodious and comfortable house my own ; to enjoy myself, with the request that I would call for whatever I might require, obviated all unpleasant alternatives*

One day's life at Zanzibar, made me thoroughly

B 2

4 HOW I FOUND LIVINGSTQXK

conscious of my ignorance respecting African people and things in general. I imagined I had read Burton and Speke through, fairly well, and that consequently I had penetrated the meaning, the full importance and grandeur, of the work I was about to he engaged upon. But my estimates, for instance, based upon hook information, were simply ridiculous, — fanciful images of African attractions were soon diwipated, anticipated pleasures vanished, and all crude ideas began to resolve themselves into shape,

I strolled through the city. My general impressions are of crooked, narrow lanes, whit*>wa**h<vd houwn, mortar-plastered streets, in the clean quarter ; — of wing alcoves on each side, with deep reeew»f with a foreground of red-turbaned Banyans, and a luirk-grcmnd of flimsy cottons, prints, calicoes, cbtmwficN nwl what not ; or of floors crowded with ivory t wk« ; or of dark corners with a pile of ungnmed and Inose cotton ; or of stores of crockery, mils, cheap Brummagem ware, tools, &c*, in what I call the Banyan qiMrt«*r ;— of fctreeta smelling very strong — in fact,, exceedingly malodorant^ with steaming yellow and black !mdi«m, and woolly heads, sitting at the doors of miserable hnta, chatting, laughing, bargaining, scolding, with a <rf)mj>r>imd «mi?ll of hides, tar, filth, vegetable refuse, excrement, &<% in tho negro qxiarter ; — of streets lined with tall, mlid looking houses, flat roofed, of great carved <lonrB with large brass knockers, with Imabs * sitting cwt^-legged watching the dark entrance to their mastera* houses; of a shallow sea-inlet, with some dhow*, canoe*, boat*, an odd steam-tug or two, leaning over on their tulet in a «ea of mud which the tide has just left behind it; of a phice called 4t NaKi-Moya," ** One Coeoa^trw/* whithw

JAK. 1871.] ZANZIBAR. 5

Europeans wend on evenings with most languid, moribund steps, to inhale the sweet air that glides over the sea, while the day is dying, and the" red sun is sinking westward ; of a few graves of dead sailors, who paid the forfeit of their lives upon arrival in this land ; of a tall house wherein lives Dr. Tozer, " Missionary Bishop of Central Africa," and his school of little Africans ; and of many other things, which got together into such a tangle, that I had to go to sleep, lest I should never be able to separate the moving images, the Arab from the African ; the African from the Banyan ; the Banyan from the Hindi ; the Hindi from the European, <fec.

Zanzibar is the Bagdad, the Ispahan, the Stamboul,, if you like, of East Africa. It is the great mart which invites the ivory traders from the African interior. To this market come the gum-copal, the hides, the orchilla, the timber, and the black slaves from Africa. Bagdad had great silk bazaars, Zanzibar has her ivory bazaars ; Bagdad once traded in jewels, Zanzibar trades In gum-copal ; Stamboul imported Circassian and Georgian slaves; Zanzibar imports black beauties from, Uhiyow, Ugindo, Ugogo, Unyamwezi and Gulla.

The same mode of commerce obtains here as in all; Mohammedan countries — nay, the mode was in vogue long before Moses was born. The Arab never changes. He brought the custom of his forefathers with him when he came to live on this island. He is as much of an Arab here, as at Muscat or Bagdad ; wherever he goes to live, he carries with him his harem, his religion, his long robe, his shirt, his watta,* and his dagger. If he penetrates Africa, not all the ridicule of the negroes can make iiim change his modes of life, Tet -the land has ;iiot become Oriental ; the Arab has not been able to

* Slippers.

the atmosphere. The land is semi-African in aspect; the city is but semi- Arabia*),

To a new-comer into Africa, the Muscat Arabs of Zanzibar are studies. There is a certain cinjtWM&nmt about them, which \ve must admire* Thvy an* mostly alt travellers. There are but few of them, that have not been in many dangertms position**, as tlu»y pcnetrated Central Africa in search of the preeiotw ivory; and these, with their various experiences, have piven their features a certain umnistakeable nir of «eltreliance, or of self-sufficiency ; then* is a calm, rtwluti*, defiant, independent air about them, which win** tin* consciously .one's respect. The KtoricM that smne of * these men could tell, I have often thought would fill many a book of thrilling adventurer

For the half-canton I havo great contempt. They arc neither blaok nor wliit<\ neither #oo<l nor had, neither to be admired nor Imforf* They im* all thing*, at all times, they are always fawning on the great Arabs, and always cruel to thosu unf«>rtYinat^M under their yoke. If I wiw ti mitt?ntUi»v nop;rof I was alway« euro to be ti*Mf In? Mftngvtl to a half*csiHt(^* Cringinff and hypwrUiral^ r<nvanlly and clebtwod, tnnicshcnmH anil mrnn, f hnv^ nUvuy»< him* He SCOWB to be for evi»r ivmly t<* fall <!^w worship a rich Arab, but in n*lfnti«w! to a jw^r Mai»k slave, When he iweanv mofttf ytwi may !^ ^«r<» he lien mofijt, and yet this i« thes Itretcl which itf mis)t$|)iitHl nw»»t at Zaruyabar~tbi» syphilitic, bl€»ftr«f*yed^ pnliifl«*ckimiedv alx^rtion of an Afrieaniml Arab*

The Banyan i» a ln>rn tritder* tho }**au*U}cmi of a $harp monoy-niaking man. Mmwy flf»wm to bin pr*oki*ti m naturally a« water down a ftoep. No i»nn^ of eon* nt tmvvfvtii him from uhvuting bin fellow man*

^ w

He excels a Jew, and his only rival in a market is a Parsee ; an Arab is a babe to him. It is worth money to see him labour with all his energy, soul, and body, to get advantage by the smallest fraction of a coin over a native. Possibly the native has a tusk, and it may weigh a couple of frasilahs, but, though the scales indicate the weight, and the native declares solemnly that it must be more than two frasilahs, yet our Banyan will asseverate, and aver, and declare, and vow, that the native knows nothing whatever about it, and that the scales are wrong; he musters up courage to lift it, it is a mere song, not much more than a frasilaK *" Come," he will say, " close, man, take the money and go thy way. Art thou mad ?" If the native hesitates, he will scream in a fury ; he pushes him about, spurns the ivory with contemptuous indifference, — never was such ado about nothing; but, though he tells the astounded native to be up and going, he never intends the ivory shall leave his shop.

The Banyans exercise, of all other classes, most influence on the trade of Central Africa. With the exception of a very few rich Arabs, almost all other traders are subject to the pains and penalties which usury imposes. A trader desirous to make a journey into; the interior, whether for slaves or ivory, gum-copal, or orchilla weed, proposes to a .Banyan to advance him $5,000 at 50, 60, or 70 per cent interest. The Banyan is safe enough not to lose, whether the speculation the trader is engaged upon pays or not. An experienced trader seldom loses, or if he has been unfortunate* through no deed of his own, he does not lose credit ; with the help of the Banyan, he is easily set on his feet again.

We will suppose, for the sake of liberating how;

tiade with tho interior is managed, that the Arab conveys by his caravan $5,000 worth of goods into the interior. At TJ-nyanycnibc the go* ids are worth $10,000; at Ujiji, they are worth 815,000: they have trebled in price* Five doti, or §7*50, will purchase a slave in the markets of Ujiji that will fetch in Zanzibar $30-00. Ordinary men-slaves may be pw'ehused for $tf'QO which would sell for $2,VOO on the coast "We will say he purchases fclavos to the full extent of his moans — after deducting §1,501) expends nf earring*,* to Ujiji and buck — viss. $S,500, the slaves — 404, in number, at $7-50 per lus-ul— would realise $115,920 at Zaimbar! Again, let us illustrate trade in ivory. A merchant takes $5,000 to Ujiji, and after deducting fl/iOO for expcimcH to Ujiji, and baek to Zanzibar* has still remain* ing §3,500 in cloth and beads, with which lus purchase** ivory. .At Ujiji ivory in bought at $20 the frattilnti, or 3fl Ibs., by which ho is enabled with $I5t5()0 to c»lict't 175 franilabs, which If ginwl ivmy is wtjrth al«>ut fM) ju»r fniHitiih at Jlatr/Jbar, Thi* xncroliunt tlm^ fint!^ that hit has realixcul $10,500 net profit! Arab tnidtra have, often dotw lutttw than tbit*. but tb^y almost ulwayn huvo ctmu* back with an «*ii«trtmtus tutu'giu of

The T»«*xt |wuj»l«» to the lliinyatis in power in Xa bar are the Muliaauutnlun HiinhV. Itculiy it hanh.rua «lt*baieablc nubjhet in uiy mind whether tht» Hindis are not OH wicktnlly tlwtonniued tt* cli*at itt tni-U% an the JJuuynhs, But, if I have coueetto*! the jwlm to the latter, it bus be*w tU««» very wluc'tautly, Thi.«* tr5Jjt? of imliutiH oau prtxhteo Mcoren of umeonheiMHuble rwottl* whtm> they cnuv ttliow but one lioin^t merebunU Omi of the honwtttMt among iwii, whitu ur bl;u^k, UH! or , in a Muhamiaviitiii H5u«H called Tiwryu

Among the Europeans at Zanzibar, he has become a proverb for honesty, and strict business integrity. He is enormously wealthy, owns several ships and dhows, and is a prominent man in the councils of Syed Burghash. Tarya has many children, two or three of whom are grown-up sons, whom he has reared up even as he is himself* But Tarya is but a representative of an exceedingly small minority.

The .Arabs, the Banyans, and the Mohammedan Hindis, represent the higher and the middle classes. Those classes own the estates, the ships, and the trade. To these classes bow the half-caste and the negro.

The next most important people who go to make up the mixed population of this island are the negroes. They consist of the aborigines, Wasawahili, Somalis, Comorines, Wanyamwezi, and a host of tribal representatives of Inner Africa.

To a white stranger about penetrating Africa, it is a most interesting walk through the negro quarters of the Wanyamwezi and the Wasawahili* For here he begins to learn the necessity of admitting that negroes are men, like himself, though of a different colour; that they have passions and prejudices, likes and dislikes, sympathies and antipathies, tastes and feelings, in common with all human nature. The sooner he perceives this fact, and adapts himself accordingly, the easier will be his journey among the several races of the interior. The more plastic his nature, the more prosperous will be his travels.

Though I had lived some time among the negroes of our Southern States, *ny education was Northern, and I had met in the United States black men, whom I was proud to call friends. I was thus prepared to admit any

10 HO W I FO UNJ) LIVINGSTONE.

black man, possessing the attributes of true manhood, or any good qualities, to my friendship, even to a brotherhood with myself; and to respect him for such, as much as if he were of my own colour and raco. Neither his colour, nor any peculiarities of physiognomy should debar him with me from any rights he could fairly claim as a man. " Have these men — these black savages from pagan Africa/' I asked myself, "the qualities which make man loveable among his fellows ? " " Can these men — these barbarians — appreciate kindness or feel resentment like myself?" was my mental question as I travelled through their quarters and observed their actions. Need I say, that I was much comforted iu observing that they were as ready to bo influenced by passions, by loves and hates, as I was myself; that the keenest observation failed to detect any great between their nature and my own.

The negroes of the island probably number thirds -of the entire population. They compose the working-class, whether enslaved or free. Those enslaved perform the work required on the plantation*, the estates and gardens of the landed proprietors or perform the work of hamals or carrier*, whether in thu country or the city. Outside the city they may It? wm carrying huge loads on their heads, aa hnppy ;M JHKHsible, not because they are kindly treated or tlmt their work is light, but because it is their nature to I e gay and light-hearted, because they have conceived m*tth«;r joys nor hopes which may not bo gratified ut will, nur cherished any ambition beyond their rau*h, mil therefore have not been baffled in tlipir hope**, nor known disappointment.

Within the city, negro, hamate may be hoard at till hours, in couples, engaged in tho transportation of

JAN. 1871.] ZANZIBAR. H

clove-bags, boxes of merchandise, <fec., from store to " go-down " and from " go-down " to the beach, singing a kind of monotone chant for the encouragement of each other, and for the guiding of their pace as they shuffle through the streets with bare feet. You may recognise these men readily, before long, as old acquaintances, by the consistency with which they sing the tunes they have adopted. Several times during a day have I heard the same couple pass beneath the windows of the Consulate, delivering themselves of the same invariable tune and words. Some might possibly deem the songs foolish and silly, but they had a certain attraction for me, and I considered that they were as useful as anything else for the purposes they were intended*

The town of Zanzibar, situate on the south-western shore of the island, contains a population of nearly one hundred thousand inhabitants ; that of the island altogether I would estimate at not more than two hundred thousand inhabitants, including all races.

The greatest number of foreign vessels trading with this port are American, principally from New York and Salem, After the American come the German, then come the French and English. They arrive loaded with American sheeting, brandy, gunpowder, muskets, Beads, English cottons, brass-wire, china-ware, and other notions, and .depart with ivory, gum-copal, cloves, hides, cowries, sesamum, pepper, and cocoa-nut oil.

The value of the exports from this port is estimated at $3,000,000, and the imports from all countries at $3,500,000.

The Europeans and Americans residing in the town of Zanzibar are either Government official^ independent merchants, or agents for a few great mercantile houses in Europe 'and America.

The most important consulate at Zanzibar is the British. The acting British Consul and political resident, when I was at Zanzibar preparing my expedition for the African interior, was Dr. John Kirk,

I felt quite a curiosity to see this gentleman, from the fact of his name being so often coupled with the object of my search — Dr. David Livingstone.

In almost all newspapers he was mentioned as the " former companion of Dr. Livingstone." I imagined, from the tone of the articles that I saw published, and from his own letters to the Indian Government, that if I could obtain any positive information from any pcmm regarding the whereabouts of Dr. Livingstone I should be able to procure it from Dr. Kirk.

It was with feelings of no small impatience, therefore, that I awaited the honour of an introduction to lam through Capt Webb.

On the second morning after my arrival at Zanzibar, according to the demands of Zanzibar etiquette, the American Consul and myself sallied out into the street, and in a few moments I was in the presence of thin much-befamed man. To a man of leather slim figure, dressed plainly, slightly round-shouldered, hair black, face thin, cheeks rather sunk and bearded, Capt Webb said, "Dr. Kirk, permit me to introduce Mr. Stanley, of the ' New York Herald/ "

I fancied at the moment that he lifted his eydi<Is perceptibly, disclosing the full circle of the eye». If I were to ciefine such a look, I would call it a broad «tare» During the conversation, which ranged over several subjects, though watching his face intently, I never saw it kindle or become animated but once, &t*d that was while relating some of his hunting feats to us. As the subject nearest my heart was not entered upon, I promised myself < I would ask him about Dr* Livingstone the next time I called upon him.

Tuesday evenings " Dr. and Mrs. Kirk are at home," Zanzibarites are informed. The pleasures of those fevenings the civilised community of Zanzibar generally ignore, but the representatives of the European colony do visit them nevertheless. This special evening, there was quite a "sprinkling" of the upper-ten-dom.

As the American party of visitors arrived early, I was enabled to note how other guests entered into conversation, and I wondered to hear each and all after the first greeting inquire anxiously of the Consul and his lady, if they had been to " Nazi-Moya " that evening, to which they responded in the negative ; for it happened that they had not extended their recreative walk so far as the classic grounds of Nazi-Moya that particular evening.

" Oh," each guest said, in a tone of triumphal and delighted wonderjaent, " I thought I had not seen you there/*

** Where, and what is Nazi-Moya?" I was fain to askofCapt Webb,

" Nazi-Moya," said this pleasant cynic, " Nazi-Moya means in English, * One* Cocoa-tree ;' it is a rendezvous just behind Eas Shangani (Sandy Point), whither we go on afternoons to enjoy the fresh sea-breeze. It is the tisual form of opening a conversation, owing to the terrible dearth of topics just now we have to talk about"

Oapt. Webb spoke truly when he said there was a * terrible dearth of topics," and subsequent experience

14 HOW I FOVNJ) LIVINGSTONE.

proved to me that the good Europeans of Zanzibar, in the absence of legitimate matter, were never slow to avail themselves of the least bit of scandal, in order to make the evenings pleasant and agreeable.

The entertainment which the British Consul and his lady provided for the visitors on their reception evening consists of a kind of mild wine and cigars ; not, because they have nothing else in the house — no decoction of bohea, or hyson, with a few cakes — but I suppose because it is the normal and accustomed habit of a free Zanzibarized European to indulge in something of this sort, mixed with a little soda or seltzer-water, as a stimulant to the bits of refined gossip, generally promulgated under tho vinous influence to sympathising, interested, and eager listeners.

It was all very fine, I dare say, but I thought it was the dreariest evening I ever passed, until I)r. Kirk% pitying the wearisomeness under \vhich I was labouring, called me aside to submit to my inspection a magnificent elephant rifle, which he ' said was a present from a governor of Bombay. Then I heard eulogies upon its deadly powers and its fatal accuracy ; I heard unee<lote& of jungle life, adventures experienced while hunting, and incidents of his travels with Livingstone.

"Ah, yes, Dr. Kirk/' I asked carelessly, "about Livingstone — where is he, do you think, now ?**

"Well, really," he replied, "you know that i« very difficult to answer ; he may be dead ; there is nothing positive whereon we can base sufficient reliance* Of one thing I am sure, nobody has heard anything definite of him for over two years, I should fancy, though, he must be alive. We are continually sending something up for him. There is a small expedition even BOW at Bagamoyo about starting shortly, I really think the old man should come home now ; lie is growing old, you know, and if he died, the world would lose the benefit of his discoveries. He keeps neither notes nor journals ; it is very seldom he takes observations. He simply makes a note or dot, or something, on a map, which nobody could understand but himself. Oh, yes, "by all means if he is alive he should come home, and let a younger man take his place."

"What kind of a man is he to get along with, Doctor ?" I asked, feeling now quite interested in his conversation.

u "Well, I think he is a very difficult man to deal with generally* Personally, I have never had a quarrel . with him, but I have seen him in hot water with fellows* so often, and that is principally the reason, I think, ho hates to have any one with him."

" I am told he is a very modest man ; is he ? " I asked.

** Oh, lie knows the value of his own discoveries ; no man better. He is not quite an ajigel," said he, with a laugh. *

"Well now, supposing I met him in my travels — I might possibly stumble across him if he travels anywhere in the direction I am going — how would he conduct himself towards me ? "

" To tell you the truth," said he, "I do not think he would like it very well, I know if Burton, or Grant, or Baker, or any of those fellows were going after him, and he hoard of their coming, Livingstone would put a hundred miles of swamp in a very short time between himself and thorn. I do, upon my word I do/'

This was the tenor of the interview I held with Dr* Kirk— former companion of Livingstone— as well as my journal and memory can recall it to me,

Ne6d I say this information from a gentleman fcaown to be well acquainted with Dr. Livingstone, rather had the effect of damping my ardor for the search, than adding vigor, to it. I felt very much tU'pro^ed, and would willingly have resigned my commission; Jbut then the order was, "G-o AND FIXD LIVINGSTON**:/* Besides, I did not suppose, though I had w> readily consented to search for the Doctor, that the |»ath to Central Africa was strewn with rose**. What though I were rebuked, as an impertinent interloper in the domain of Discovery, as a meddler in thing* that concerned not myself, as one whoso absence would foe far more acceptable to him than my presence — hud I not been commanded to find him ? Well, find him I would, if he were above ground ; if not, then I would bring what concerned people to know, and keep.

Dr. Kirk very kindly promised to give all the nwiKt* ance in his power, and whatever experience hp possessed he was willing, he said, to give nu? its full benefit. But I cannot recollect, neither tl<> I find a trace of it in my journal, that he a**sisU»<l nu* in any way. Of course, he was not aware that my inst ructions were to hunt up Dr. Livingfltont*, nthcnvitw Dr* Kirk, I have no doubt, would havu m?t«U* good lifo ' word. ' He believed I was about to UKecinl the Unfiji River to its source. But what new^pnpiT would despatch a " special " to discover the snurtvH of an insignificant river like the Bufiji?

The climate of Zanzibar is not the mojrt agreeable in the world. I have heard Americans and Kuropeanft condemn it most heartily. I have nl«o ween nearly one-half of the white colony laid up in two duy fn>rn #iek* ness. A noxious malaria is exhaled from the shallow inlet of Malagash, and the undrained filth, the garbage, offal, dead mollusks, dead pariah dog^ dead eate, all

JAX. 1871.] ZANZIBAR. 17

species of carrion, remains of men and beasts unbnried, assist to make Zanzibar a most unhealthy city; and, considering that it ought to be a most healthy city, natuifc having pointed out to man the means, and having assisted him so far, it is most wonderful that tlio ruling prince does not obey the dictates of .reason. The bay of Zanzibar is in the form. of a crescent, and on the south-western horn of it is built the city. On the oast the city is bounded almost entirely by the Mnlagash Lngoon, an inlet of the sea. It penetrates to at least two hundred and fifty yards of the tlsea behind or south of Shangani Point. Were these two hundred and fifty yards cut through by a ten foot ditch, and the inlet deepened slightly, Zanzibar city would become an island of itself, tmd what wonders would it not effect as to health and salubrity ! I have never heard this suggestion made, but it struck me that the foreign consuls resident at Zanzibar might suggest this work to the sultan, and so get the credit of having made the city as healthy a place to live in as any near the equator. But apropos* of this, I remember what Capt. Webb, the American Consul, told mo on my first arrival, when I expressed to him my wonder at the apathy and inertness of men born with the indomitable energy which char motorizes the Europeans and Americans, of men imbued with the progressive and stirring instincts of the white people, who yet allow themselves to dwindle into pallid phantoms of their kind, into hypochoridriacal invalids, info hopeless believers in the doadliness of the climate, with hardly a trace of that daring and invincible spirit which rules the world*