Very many cases of goitre in men and women here:  I see no reason for it.  This is only 3350 feet above the sea.

7th November, 1867.—­Start for Moero, convoyed by all the Arabs for some distance:  they have been extremely kind.  We draw near to the mountain-range on our left, called Kakoma, and sleep at one of Kaputa’s villages, our course now being nearly south.

8th November, 1867.—­Villages are very thickly studded over the valley formed by Kakoma range, and another at a greater distance on our right; 100 or 200 yards is a common distance between these villages, which, like those in Londa, or Lunda, are all shaded with trees of a species of Ficus indica.  One belongs to Puta, and this Puta, the paramount chief, sent to say that if we slept there, and gave him a cloth, he would send men to conduct us next day, and ferry us across:  I was willing to remain, but his people would not lend a hut, so we came on to the Lake, and no ferry.  Probably he thought that we were going across the Lualaba into Rua.

Lake Moero seems of goodly size, and is flanked by ranges of mountains on the east and west.  Its banks are of coarse sand, and slope gradually down to the water:  outside these banks stands a thick belt of tropical vegetation, in which fishermen build their huts.  The country called Rua lies on the west, and is seen as a lofty range of dark mountains:  another range of less height, but more broken, stands along the eastern shore, and in it lies the path to Casembe.  We slept in a fisherman’s hut on the north shore.  They brought a large fish, called “monde,” for sale; it has a slimy skin, and no scales, a large head, with tentaculae like the Siluridie, and large eyes:  the great gums in its mouth have a brush-like surface, like a whale’s in miniature:  it is said to eat small fish.  A bony spine rises on its back (I suppose for defence), which is 2-1/2 inches long, and as thick as a quill.  They are very retentive of life.

The northern shore has a fine sweep like an unbent bow, and round the western end flows the water that makes the river Lualaba, which, before it enters Moero, is the Luapula, and that again (if the most intelligent reports speak true) is the Chambeze before it enters Lake Bemba, or Bangweolo.

We came along the north shore till we reached the eastern flanking range, then ascended and turned south, the people very suspicious, shutting their gates as we drew near.  We were alone, and only nine persons in all, but they must have had reason for fear.  One headman refused us admission, then sent after us, saying that the man who had refused admission was not the chief:  he had come from a distance, and had just arrived.  It being better to appear friendly than otherwise, we went back, and were well entertained.  Provisions were given when we went away.  Flies abound, and are very troublesome; they seem to be attracted by the great numbers of fish caught.  The people here are Babemba, but beyond the river Kalongosi they are all Balunda.