Within half-an-hour the two Arab boys, Selim and Abdullah, came from their room, dressed, and so changed they could barely be recognised as the wild-looking, long-haired boys who had so electrified the old man with their unpresentable appearance. Selim came first, Abdullah behind, the Arabs rising respectfully as they came near, the former advancing to Sheikh Sultan, with his handsome face all aglow at the change he felt in him, took hold of the old man’s right hand, and raised it respectfully to his lips, and went on to the other Arabs to do the same to them, but they would not permit this, but saluted him on the cheek, as well as Abdullah.
The Sultan bin Ali invited the boys to the seat of honour near him, and had pillows brought for them, so they would not feel chilled by contact with the wall, and invited Selim to tell his story, with which he at once complied, and gave them a succinct but brief account of all that happened to them from the battle-day to their appearance at Unyanyembe. He never had such an attentive audience before in his life. The Arabs were deeply interested in it, and often broke out into exclamations, which showed the two Arab boys that they were really amongst friends at last. Kalulu received great praise, and Sultan bin Ali expressed his fears that the boy was either murdered or carried into hopeless captivity and slavery.
Presently food was brought in such quantities that made the hungry boys stare; one dish was expressly for Simba, Moto, and Niani, who were called from among their friends to partake of it. Water was poured over each person’s right hand, and as Selim and Abdullah saw the great dish of snowy rice, and the dish of curried meat, they could not help uttering one great long sigh of satisfaction. Sultan assisted the boys to the best portions, placed more curry over their rice than he placed over any other, though he did not neglect his guests. Then hulwa (sweetmeats) and sweet cakes were brought, with honey, and the boys were continually urged to eat, until they at last declared that they had had enough.
The next day the two Arab boys were taken to all the tembes of Tabora, Kwihara, and Maroro, where they were heartily received by everybody, and were invited to feasts, which followed one another in quick succession, until, at the end of a month, Selim and Abdullah had fed so well that they got quite rotund in figure, and appeared none the worse for their privations.
After two months’ stay at Unyanyembe, Selim and Abdullah were placed in charge of Soud bin Sayd, who was bound for the coast with a caravan consisting of two hundred slaves, loaded with ivory. Sultan bin Ali and a dozen other Arabs accompanied Selim and Abdullah as far as Kwikuru, three miles from Tabora, and after fervently blessing them, and wishing them all sorts of success, and a long-lived happiness, parted from them with saddened faces.
Tura, on the frontier of Unyamwezi, was reached within five days, and crossing the wilderness of Tura they merged in New Ukimbu. Within three weeks afterwards they were travelling through arid Ugogo, which they passed safely in two weeks; then the friendly wilderness of the Bitter Water—Marenga M’kali—burst upon their view, and the next day, after a march of thirty miles, they were defiling by the cones of Usagara.
Continuing their march, ten days more brought them to the Makata Plain, and on the eighth day after leaving Usagara they camped near Simbamwenni, or the “Lion Lord’s” city, which both Selim and Abdullah remembered as the scene where Niani had a disagreeable incident with Isa. Poor Isa! he is dead.
After a rest of two days at Simbamwenni, the caravan of Soud bin Sayd continued its march, and on the seventieth day from Unyanyembe the Arab boys, Selim and Abdullah, and their friends, Simba, Moto, and Niani, looked at the sea of Zanj, from the ridges behind Bagamoyo, and pointed out its ever-smiling azure face to one another with emotions too great for utterance. They feasted their eyes on it until they lost sight of it, as they plunged into the depths of the umbrageous groves and gardens of the sea-coast town of Bagamoyo, into the streets of which they presently emerged, to be welcomed, as wanderers generally are, with glad cries, embraces, smiling countenances, and hearty claspings of the hand.
The next day Soud bin Sayd embarked his caravan in two Arab ships, and accompanied by the young Arabs and their friends he had the anchor hoisted, and the lateen sails sheeted home, and the ships began to move, as they felt the influence of the continental breeze, towards Zanzibar, across the strait which separates Zanzibar from the mainland.
“Moving towards home!—glorious thought!” cried the enraptured Selim, as he turned towards his friend Abdullah, and fell on his neck overpowered by his feelings.