We buried Baruti under the shade of the banyan-tree, a few yards west of my tembe. The grave was made four and a half feet deep and three feet wide. At the bottom on one side a narrow trench was excavated, into which the body was rolled on his side, with his face turned towards Mecca. The body was dressed in a doti and a half of new American sheeting. After it was placed properly in its narrow bed, a sloping roof of sticks, covered over with matting and old canvas, was made, to prevent the earth from falling over the body. The grave was then filled, the soldiers laughing merrily. On the top of the grave was planted a small shrub, and into a small hole made with the hand, was poured water lest he might feel thirsty—they said—on his way to Paradise; water was then sprinkled all ever the grave, and the gourd broken. This ceremony being ended, the men recited the Arabic Fat-hah, after which they left the grave of their dead comrade to think no more of him.
September 7th.—An Arab named Mohammed presented me to-day with a little boy-slave, called "Ndugu M'hali" (my brother's wealth). As I did not like the name, I called the chiefs of my caravan together, and asked them to give him a better name. One suggested "Simba" (a lion), another said he thought "Ngombe" (a cow) would suit the boy-child, another thought he ought to be called "Mirambo," which raised a loud laugh. Bombay thought "Bombay Mdogo" would suit my black-skinned infant very well. Ulimengo, however, after looking at his quick eyes, and noting his celerity of movement, pronounced the name Ka-lu-la as the best for him, "because," said he, "just look at his eyes, so bright look at his form, so slim! watch his movements, how quick! Yes, Kalulu is his name." "Yes, bana," said the others, "let it be Kalulu."
"Kalulu" is a Kisawahili term for the young of the blue-buck (perpusilla) antelope.
"Well, then," said I, water being brought in a huge tin pan, Selim, who was willing to stand godfather, holding him over the water, "let his name henceforth be Kalulu, and let no man take it from him," and thus it was that the little black boy of Mohammed's came to be called Kalulu.
The Expedition is increasing in numbers.
We had quite an alarm before dark. Much firing was heard at Tabora, which led us to anticipate an attack on Kwihara. It turned out, however, to be a salute fired in honour of the arrival of Sultan Kitambi to pay a visit to Mkasiwa, Sultan of Unyanyembe.
September 8th.—Towards night Sheikh bin Nasib received a letter from an Arab at Mfuto, reporting that an attack was made on that place by Mirambo and his Watuta allies. It also warned him to bid the people of Kwihara hold themselves in readiness, because if Mirambo succeeded in storming Mfuto, he would march direct on Kwihara.
September 9th.—Mirambo was defeated with severe loss yesterday, in his attack upon Mfuto. He was successful in an assault he made upon a small Wanyamwezi village, but when he attempted to storm Mfuto, he was repulsed with severe loss, losing three of his principal men. Upon withdrawing his forces from the attack, the inhabitants sallied out, and followed him to the forest of Umanda, where he was again utterly routed, himself ingloriously flying from the field.
The heads of his chief men slain in the attack were brought to Kwikuru, the boma of Mkasiwa.
September 14th.—The Arab boy Selim is delirious from constant fever. Shaw is sick again. These two occupy most of my time. I am turned into a regular nurse, for I have no one to assist me in attending upon them. If I try to instruct Abdul Kader in the art of being useful, his head is so befogged with the villainous fumes of Unyamwezi tobacco, that he wanders bewildered about, breaking dishes, and upsetting cooked dainties, until I get so exasperated that my peace of mind is broken completely for a full hour. If I ask Ferajji, my now formally constituted cook, to assist, his thick wooden head fails to receive an idea, and I am thus obliged to play the part of chef de cuisine.