ZANZIBAR.

words " Zang," a negro, and " barr," coast, or

mainland. This name is, however, unknown to the

natives, who invariably call it Ungnja.

Grulioni, the suburb in which our house is situated,

consisted principally of a straggling bazaar, where

dealers in fruit and vegetables congregate in the

early morning. A walk through this bazaar well

repays any one who has never seen such a sight. The market-people usually squat upon the ground with mats spread out before them on which their

goods are displayed

: little heaps of limes, flanked by

rough-skinned, strong-smelling jackfruit, each one

a load for a man ; or tall baskets made of the fronds

of the cocoa-palm, filled with golden-yellow oranges, and often ornamented with flowers ; heaps of ground-

nuts, and bundles of cassava or sweet juicy sugar-

cane. There is a woman with a pile of creamy

custard-apples ; and here, one with a basket of

gua-vas, smelling like strawberries and cream. At

little stalls shaded by low-thatched roofs arc the

vendors of cocoanuts, or of dried shark the odour

of which informs. the passer-by of its whereabouts

long before he sees it.

Leaving Gulioni, and taking our way through the

suburb of Ng'ambo, we enter a long, narrow, wind-

ing street with low, filthy houses on either side,

inhabited by Hindus, who earn a scanty living by

selling miscellaneous articles of European manu-

facture, cocoanut oil, tobacco and drugs ; these shops