The country now exhibits the extreme of leafiness and the undulations are masses of green leaves; as far as the eye can reach with distinctness it rests on a mantle of that hue, and beyond the scene becomes dark blue.  Near at hand many gay flowers peep out.  Here and there the scarlet martagon (Lilium chalcedonicum), bright blue or yellow gingers; red, orange, yellow, and pure white orchids; pale lobelias, &c.; but they do not mar the general greenness.  As we ascended higher on the plateau, grasses, which have pink and reddish brown seed-vessels imparted distinct shades of their colours to the lawns, and were grateful to the eye.  We turned aside early in our march to avoid being wetted by rains, and took shelter in some old Babisa sheds; these, when the party is a slaving one, are built so as to form a circle, with but one opening:  a ridge pole, or rather a succession of ridge poles, form one long shed all round, with no partitions in the roof-shaped hut.

On the 9th of January we ascended a hardened sandstone range.  Two men who accompanied our guide called out every now and then to attract the attention of the honey-guide, but none appeared.  A water-buck had been killed and eaten at one spot, the ground showing marks of a severe struggle, but no game was to be seen.  Buffaloes and elephants come here at certain seasons; at present they have migrated elsewhere.  The valleys are very beautiful:  the oozes are covered with a species of short wiry grass, which gives the valleys the appearance of well-kept gentlemen’s parks; but they are full of water to overflowing—­immense sponges in fact;—­and one has to watch carefully in crossing them to avoid plunging into deep water-holes, made by the feet of elephants or buffaloes.  In the ooze generally the water comes half-way up the shoe, and we go plash, plash, plash, in the lawn-like glade.  There are no people here now in these lovely wild valleys; but to-day we came to mounds made of old for planting grain, and slag from iron furnaces.  The guide was rather offended because he did not get meat and meal, though he is accustomed to leaves at home, and we had none to give except by wanting ourselves:  he found a mess without much labour in the forest.  My stock of meal came to an end to-day, but Simon gave me some of his.  It is not the unpleasantness of eating unpalatable food that teases one, but we are never satisfied; I could brace myself to dispose of a very unsavoury mess, and think no more about it; but this maere engenders a craving which plagues day and night incessantly.

10th January, 1867.—­We crossed the Muasi, flowing strongly to the east to the Loangwa River.