18th April, 1868.—­We marched along the north end of Moero, which has a south-east direction.  The soft yielding sand which is flanked by a broad belt of tangled tropical vegetation and trees, added to the fatigues of yesterday, so finding a deserted fisherman’s village near the eastern hills, we gladly made it our quarters for Sunday (19th).  I made no mark, but the Lake is at least twenty feet higher now than it was on our first visits, and there are banks showing higher rises even than this.

Large fish-baskets made of split reeds are used in trios for catching small fish; one man at each basket drives fish ashore.

20th April, 1868.—­Went on to Katette River, and then to a strong torrent; slept at a village on the north bank of the River Vuna, where, near the hills, is a hot fountain, sometimes used to cook cassava and maize.

21st April, 1868.—­Crossed the Vuna and went on to Kalembwe’s village, meeting the chief at the gate, who guided us to a hut, and manifested great curiosity to see all our things; he asked if we could not stop next day and drink beer, which would then be ready.  Leopards abound here.  The Lake now seems broader than ever.

I could not conceive that a hole in the cartilage of the nose could be turned to any account except to hold an ornament, though that is usually only a bit of grass, but a man sewing the feathers on his arrows used his nose-hole for holding a needle!  In coming on to Kangalola we found the country swimming:  I got separated from the company, though I saw them disappear in the long grass not a hundred yards off and shouted, but the splashing of their feet prevented any one hearing.  I could not find a path going south, so I took one to the east to a village; the grass was so long and tangled, I could scarcely get along, at last I engaged a man to show me the main path south, and he took me to a neat village of a woman—­Nyinakasangaand would go no further, “Mother Kasanga,” as the name means, had been very handsome, and had a beautiful daughter, probably another edition of herself, she advised my waiting in the deep shade of the Ficus indica, in which her houses were placed.  I fired a gun, and when my attendants came gave her a string of beads, which made her express distress at my “leaving without drinking anything of hers.”  People have abandoned several villages on account of the abundance of ferocious wild beasts.

23rd April, 1868.—­Through very thick tangled Nyassi grass to Chikosi’s burned village; Nsama had killed him.  We spent the night in a garden hut, which the fire of the village had spared.  Turnips were growing in the ruins.  The Nyassi, or long coarse grass, hangs over the paths, and in pushing it aside the sharp seeds penetrate the clothes and are very annoying.  The grass itself rubs on the face and eyes disagreeably:  when it is burned off and greensward covers the soil it is much more pleasant walking.