The New York herald. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1840-1920, 1872-08-09
Heroic Death Of Khanis Bin
Abdallah.
Disgusting Savage Rites with
the Dead.
Fertilization of Kwihara-
MirambO Retires.
o N II O u j I j 4.

KwIHARA, UNYANYEMBE, Sept. q, 1871.
How can describe my feelings to you, that you
may comprehend exactly the condition that am
In, the condition that have been in, and the ex-
tremely wretched condition that the Arabs and
slave trading people Of the Mrima-the hill land or
the coast-would fam keep me In For the last
two months have been debating in my own mind
as to my best course. Resolves have not been
wanting, but up to to-day they have failed. !
an no nearer the object Of my search apparently
than was two years ago, when you gave me the
Instructions at the hotel In Paris called
the "Grand Hotel.n This object Of my search
you know Is Livingstone-Dr. David Livingtone--
FIR. G. s., L. D.. DC. Is this Dr. David Livingstone
myth Is there any such person hving9 II 80,
where is he9 l ask everybody-Omani, Arab-haf
caste, Wamruiapagazis-b no man knows.
lift up my head shake OF day dreams and ask the
silent plains around and the still dome Of azure
upheaving to nfnity above, where can he be No
answer. The altitude Of my people, the asinine
obstinacy Of Bombay, the evidently determined OPP
position Of the principal Arabs to my departure
from here, the war with Miranda, the other un-
known road to Central Lake. the impossibility Of
obtaining pagazis all combine, or seem to- to say
"Thou shalt never find him. Thou shalt neither
hear Of MIN. Thou shalt die here"
DIsCoURAGEMRNrs.
Sheikh, the son Of Nasib OF the ruling Powers,
here declares it an impossibility to reach Ujli.
Daily he vexes me with There Is no road; all
roads are closed; the Wakonongo, the Niagara and
the Wawendi are coming from the south to help
Miranda; If you 60 to the north, Usukuma is the
country of Mirambo's mother; If you take the
Wildjankuru road, that is Mirambo's own country.
You see then, sir the impossibihty of reaching the
Tanganyika. My advice is that you wait until Mi
rambo is killed, then, inshallah please GOd) the
w or
times explode, and cry out:-''whati wait
here until Mirambo is killed? You were i've years
fighting Manua Seral Go back after spending
$4,000 o Sheikh the son OF NASH, no Arab can
fathom the soul of muzungu white mani go
on and viii not wait until you kill Mirambo; 60
on, and Will not 60 back until shall have the
Tanganyika" and this morning added "and the
day after tomorrow start"
'wen MASTER he replied, "be 1t as you say +; but
put down the words OF Sheikh the son OF Nasb, for
they are worthy to be remembered"
CYNIcIsM.
He has only just parted rom me- and to comfort
myself after the ominous words write to you.
wish could write as fast as the thoughts crowd
my mind. Then what wild, chaotic and incoherent
letter you would have But my pen is stiff, the
paper is abominable, and before q sentence is
framed the troubled mind gets somewhat
Gamer. am spiteful, l candidly confess, just
now am cynical-I do not care who
knows II. Fever has made me so. My
whining white servant contributes toward it.
The stubbornness Of Bombay-..ncarnaton of hon.
esty" Burton calls him--is enough to make one
cynical The false tongues OF these false hearted
Arabs drive me on to spitefulness; the cowardice
OF my soldiers is proverb with me- The rock daily
hourly growing larger and more formidable against
which the ship Of the expedition must splitso saws
everybody, and what everybody says must be true
makes me fierce and savage-hearted. Yet saw
that the day after tomorrow every man Jack Of us
who can walk shall march.
NEWSPAPER SCRAPS.
But before the expedition tries the hard road
again-before It commences the weary. weary
march once moroccan not gain some Information
about Livingstone from the scraps Of newspapers
Jhave been industriousy clipping for some time
back May they not with the more mature
knowledge have obtained Of the interior since
went on this venture give me hint which might
advantageously adopt Here they are, dozen of
them, fifteen, twenty, over thirty bits Of paper.
Here ia one. An. door of heart. where art thou 2