15th March, 1867.—­We now are making for Kasonso, the chief of the Lake, and a very large country all around it, passing the Lochenje, five yards wide, and knee deep, then to the Chanumba.  All flow very rapidly just now and are flooded with clean water.  Everyone carries an axe, as if constantly warring with the forest.  My long-continued fever ill disposes me to enjoy the beautiful landscape.  We are evidently on the ridge, but people have not a clear conception of where the rivers run.

19th March, 1867.—­A party of young men came out of the village near which we had encamped to force us to pay something for not going into their village.  “The son of a great chief ought to be acknowledged,” &c.  They had their bows and arrows with them, and all ready for action.  I told them we had remained near them because they said we could not reach Kasonso that day.  Their headman had given us nothing.  After talking a while, and threatening to do a deal to-morrow, they left, and through an Almighty Providence nothing was attempted.  We moved on N.W. in forest, with long green tree-covered slopes on our right, and came to a village of Kasonso in a very lovely valley.  Great green valleys were now scooped out, and many, as the Kakanza, run into the Lovu.

20th March, 1867.—­The same features of country prevailed, indeed it was impossible to count the streams flowing N.W.  We found Kasonso situated at the confluence of two streams; he shook hands a long while, and seems a frank sort of man.  A shower of rain set the driver ants on the move, and about two hours after we had turned in we were overwhelmed by them.  They are called Kalandu or Nkalanda.

To describe this attack is utterly impossible.  I wakened covered with them:  my hair was full of them.  One by one they cut into the flesh, and the more they are disturbed, the more vicious are their bites; they become quite insolent.  I went outside the hut, but there they swarmed everywhere; they covered the legs, biting furiously; it is only when they are tired that they leave off.

One good trait of the Balungu up here is, they retire when they see food brought to anyone, neither Babisa nor Makoa had this sense of delicacy:  the Babemba are equally polite.

We have descended considerably into the broad valley of the Lake, and it feels warmer than on the heights.  Cloth here is more valuable, inasmuch as bark-cloth is scarce.  The skins of goats and wild animals are used, and the kilt is very diminutive among the women.

22nd March, 1867.—­Cross Loela, thirty feet wide and one deep, and meet with tsetse fly, though we have seen none since we left Chitapangwa’s.  Kasonso gave us a grand reception, and we saw men present from Tanganyika; I saw cassava here, but not in plenty.

28th March, 1867.—­Set-in rain and Chuma fell ill.  There are cotton bushes of very large size here of the South American kind.  After sleeping in various villages and crossing numerous streams, we came to Mombo’s village, near the ridge overlooking the Lake.