We start again next morning at 6 a.m.  The banks of the river are now assuming an equatorial appearance for we are in the third degree of latitude and palms grow in great profusion but the country is flat and uninteresting.  About midday we land at Gembele, a large village with an extensive plantation.  The Chief is a young, good-looking man with refined European features and a very gentlemanly manner.  He owns a large island, many iron and copper mines and is very wealthy.  When one was introduced to him he pointed with pride to the State medal he was wearing round his neck, a medal which is given to all Chiefs of whose election or succession the Government approves.  An important feature of this village is a round enclosure built of trunks of trees and roofed with leaves which serves as a Chamber of State wherein discussions take place and justice is administered.  Gembele only succeeded his father a year ago and among other responsibilities he has to take care of numerous wives, step mothers and aunts, the legacies of his father and uncles.  They seem, however, to be well-disciplined for they were sunning themselves when we suddenly appeared round a corner but at a wave of the hand of the boy of the Chief, they all rushed for cover and not one turned round to try and catch a glimpse of the white men.  Possibly they have peep-holes in the walls of their huts for it would be too much to expect them to have no feminine curiosity.  Gembele is evidently respected by his people but he has a somewhat serious look as though he felt the cares of his position heavily.  There is a strong rapid opposite the village so we allow the canoes to go up empty and enter them again above it.  It is now intensely hot and progress is slow but we reach the village of Sembile before sundown and pitch our tents in a clearing.  The huts here are still round and the people practically nude but the custom of wearing beads has disappeared and very few are painted.

There is a bright moon which acts here as a clock by night as the sun does by day.  As the latter passes practically straight overhead it is astonishingly easy to tell the time within half an hour after a very little practice.  It is more difficult to use the moon as the point of the hour-hand and requires some care.  This, however, is the only means the sentry has of determining 5 a.m. when we wish to be roused for he could not read a watch.

We start again at daylight and ascend the river to Voro where we land with all baggage for the rapids here are so strong that it is necessary to walk for several miles.  We therefore start in a procession of more than one hundred people along a narrow foot-path while the crews take up the empty canoes.  The guide leads and I follow next, hoping to shoot any game that may exist in the neighbourhood before it is disturbed by the bearers.  It is, however, speedily apparent that with the exception of birds it will not be possible to see any game at all for