Next morning, by climbing the highest trees, we could see a fine large sheet of water, but surrounded on all sides by the same impenetrable belt of reeds.  This is the broad part of the River Chobe, and is called Zabesa.  Two tree-covered islands seemed to be much nearer to the water than the shore on which we were, so we made an attempt to get to them first.  It was not the reeds alone we had to pass through; a peculiar serrated grass, which at certain angles cut the hands like a razor, was mingled with the reed, and the climbing convolvulus, with stalks which felt as strong as whipcord, bound the mass together.  We felt like pigmies in it, and often the only way we could get on was by both of us leaning against a part and bending it down till we could stand upon it.  The perspiration streamed off our bodies, and as the sun rose high, there being no ventilation among the reeds, the heat was stifling, and the water, which was up to the knees, felt agreeably refreshing.  After some hours’ toil we reached one of the islands.  Here we met an old friend, the bramble-bush.  My strong moleskins were quite worn through at the knees, and the leather trowsers of my companion were torn and his legs bleeding.  Tearing my handkerchief in two, I tied the pieces round my knees, and then encountered another difficulty.  We were still forty or fifty yards from the clear water, but now we were opposed by great masses of papyrus, which are like palms in miniature, eight or ten feet high, and an inch and a half in diameter.  These were laced together by twining convolvulus, so strongly that the weight of both of us could not make way into the clear water.  At last we fortunately found a passage prepared by a hippopotamus.  Eager as soon as we reached the island to look along the vista to clear water, I stepped in and found it took me at once up to the neck.

Returning nearly worn out, we proceeded up the bank of the Chobe till we came to the point of departure of the branch Sanshureh; we then went in the opposite direction, or down the Chobe, though from the highest trees we could see nothing but one vast expanse of reed, with here and there a tree on the islands.  This was a hard day’s work; and when we came to a deserted Bayeiye hut on an ant-hill, not a bit of wood or any thing else could be got for a fire except the grass and sticks of the dwelling itself.  I dreaded the “Tampans”, so common in all old huts; but outside of it we had thousands of mosquitoes, and cold dew began to be deposited, so we were fain to crawl beneath its shelter.

We were close to the reeds, and could listen to the strange sounds which are often heard there.  By day I had seen water-snakes putting up their heads and swimming about.  There were great numbers of otters (’Lutra inunguis’, F. Cuvier), which have made little spoors all over the plains in search of the fishes, among the tall grass of these flooded prairies; curious birds, too, jerked and wriggled among these reedy masses, and we heard human-like