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terrible in the burning sun, making one realise vividly the idea of

Again, in the distance, the vagne outline of the coast at Lamu, and further to the south, Mombasa.

At length the island of Pemba came into view, and we beheld with delight the glorious greenery of its tropical vegetation and forgot in a moment the discomforts of the voyage. Shortly afterwards we were within sight of Zanzibar, where we saw in the distance the white and dazzling buildings of the mart and capital of East Africa. A few more hours and we were lying at anchor opposite the Sultan's palace.

Zanzibar, or Unguja, as the natives call it, has been so often and so admirably described that I need not enter into any details. Had any of our party, however, possessed the poet Coleridge's faculty for counting abominable odours, he might have spent a considerable part of his time daily in doing so without exhausting the number. In this particular Cologne would be left far behind.

The streets of the city are narrow and tortuous, and in the wet season are simply watercourses. A walk through Zanzibar in a shower of rain is quite an adventure; overhead water is pouring off the flat roofs in cataracts, while underfoot is a swiftly-flowing torrent ankle deep. In fine weather, however, the whole town is alive with bustle and business, and bright with the variegated costumes of many nations. Shops there are