24th April, 1868.—­We leave Chikosi’s ruins and make for the ford of the Kalungosi.  Marigolds are in full bloom all over the forest, and so are foxgloves.  The river is here fully 100 yards broad with 300 yards of flood on its western bank; so deep we had to remain in the canoes till within 50 yards of the higher ground.  The people here chew the pith of the papyrus, which is three inches in diameter and as white as snow:  it has very little sweetness or anything else in it.  The headman of the village to which we went was out cutting wood for a garden, and his wife refused us a hut, but when Kansabala came in the evening he scolded his own spouse roundly and all the wives of the village, and then pressed me to come indoors, but I was well enough in my mosquito curtain without, and declined:  I was free from insects and vermin, and few huts are so.

25th April, 1868.—­Off early west, and then on to an elevated forest land, in which our course was S.S.W. to the great bend of the rivulet Kifurwa, which enters Moero near to the mouth of the Kalungosi.

26th April, 1868.—­Here we spent Sunday in our former woodcutters’ huts.  Yesterday we were met by a party of the same occupation, laden with bark-cloth, which they had just been stripping off the trees.  Their leader would not come along the path because I was sitting near it:  I invited him to do so, but it would have been disrespectful to let his shadow fall on any part of my person, so he went a little out of the way:  this politeness is common.

27th April, 1868.—­But a short march to Fungafunga’s village:  we could have gone on to the Muatize, but no village exists there, and here we could buy food.  Fungafunga’s wife gave a handsome supper to the stranger:  on afterwards acknowledging it to her husband he said, “That is your village; always go that way and eat my provisions.”  He is a Monyamwezi trading in the country for copper, hoes, and slaves.  Parrots are here in numbers stealing Holcus sorghum in spite of the shouts of the women.

We cross Muatize by a bridge of one large tree, getting a good view of Moero from a hill near Kabukwa, and sleep at Chirongo River.

29th April, 1868.—­At the Mandapala River.  Some men here from the Chungu, one of whom claimed to be a relative of Casembe, made a great outcry against our coming a second time to Casembe without waiting at the Kalungosi for permission.  One of them, with his ears cropped short off, asked me when I was departing north if I should come again.  I replied, “Yes, I think I shall.”  They excited themselves by calling over the same thing again and again.  “The English come the second time!” “The second time—­the second time—­the country spoiled!  Why not wait at the Kalungosi?  Let him return thither.”  “Come from Mpamari too, and from the Bagaraganza or Banyamwezi!!” “The second time—­the second time!” Then all the adjacent villagers were called in to settle this serious affair.