The Sultan sat in a gilt chair
between the Americans and the councillors. Johari the dragoman
stood humbly before the Sultan, expectant and ready to interpret
what we had to communicate to the Prince.
The Sultan, so far as dress goes, might be taken for a Mingrelian
gentleman, excepting, indeed, for the turban, whose ample folds in
alternate colours of red, yellow, brown, and white, encircled his
head. His long robe was of dark cloth, cinctured round the waist
with his rich sword-belt, from which was suspended a gold-hilted
scimitar, encased in a scabbard also enriched with gold: His legs
and feet were bare, and had a ponderous look about them, since he
suffered from that strange curse of Zanzibar - elephantiasis. His
feet were slipped into a pair of watta (Arabic for slippers), with
thick soles and a strong leathern band over the instep. His light
complexion and his correct features, which are intelligent and
regular, bespeak the Arab patrician. They indicate, however,
nothing except his high descent and blood; no traits of character
are visible unless there is just a trace of amiability, and perfect
contentment with himself and all around.
Such is Prince, or Seyd Burghash, Sultan of Zanzibar and Pemba, and
the East coast of Africa, from Somali Land to the Mozambique, as he
appeared to me.
Coffee was served in cups supported by golden finjans, also some
cocoa-nut milk, and rich sweet sherbet.
The conversation began with the question addressed to the Consul.
"Are you well?"
Consul. - " Yes, thank you. How is His Highness?"
Highness. - "Quite well!"
Highness to me. - "Are you well?"
Answer. - "Quite well, thanks!"
The Consul now introduces business; and questions about my travels
follow from His Highness -
"How do you like Persia?"
"Have you seen Kerbela, Bagdad, Masr, Stamboul?"
"Have the Turks many soldiers?"
"How many has Persia?"
"Is Persia fertile?"
"How do you like Zanzibar?"
Having answered each question to his Highness' satisfaction, he
handed me letters of introduction to his officers at Bagamoyo and
Kaole, and a general introductory letter to all Arab merchants
whom I might meet on the road, and concluded his remarks to me,
with the expressed hope, that on whatever mission I was bound,
I should be perfectly successful.
We bowed ourselves out of his presence in much the same manner that
we had bowed ourselves in, he accompanying us to the great entrance
door.
Mr. Goodhue of Salem, an American merchant long resident in
Zanzibar, presented me, as I gave him my adieu, with a blooded bay
horse, imported from the Cape of Good Hope, and worth, at least at
Zanzibar, $500.
Feb. 4. - By the 4th of February, twenty-eight days from the date
of my arrival at Zanzibar, the organization and equipment of the
"`New York Herald' Expedition" was complete; tents and saddles had
been manufactured, boats and sails were ready. The donkeys brayed,
and the horses neighed impatiently for the road.
