21st January, 1873.—­Fundi lost himself yesterday, and we looked out for him.  He came at noon, having wandered in the eager pursuit of two herds of eland; having seen no game for a long time, he lost himself in the eager hope of getting one.  We went on 2-1/2 hours, and were brought up by the River Malalanzi, which is about 15 feet wide, waist deep, and has 300 yards or more of sponge.  Guides refused to come as Chitunkue, their headman, did not own them.  We started alone:  a man came after us and tried to mislead us in vain.

22nd January, 1873.—­We pushed on through many deserted gardens and villages, the man evidently sent to lead us astray from our S.E. course; he turned back when he saw that we refused his artifice.  Crossed another rivulet, possibly the Lofu, now broad and deep, and then came to another of several deep streams but sponge, not more than fifty feet in all.  Here we remained, having travelled in fine drizzling rain all the morning.  Population all gone from the war of Chitoka with this Chitunkue.

No astronomical observations worth naming during December and January; impossible to take any, owing to clouds and rain.

It is trying beyond measure to be baffled by the natives lying and misleading us wherever they can.  They fear us very, greatly, and with a terror that would gratify an anthropologist’s heart.  Their unfriendliness is made more trying by our being totally unable to observe for our position.  It is either densely clouded, or continually raining day and night.  The country is covered with brackens, and rivulets occur at least one every hour of the march.  These are now deep, and have a broad selvage of sponge.  The lower stratum of clouds moves quickly from the N.W.; the upper move slowly from S.E., and tell of rain near.

23rd January, 1873.—­We have to send back to villages of Chitunkue to buy food.  It was not reported to me that the country in front was depopulated for three days, so I send a day back.  I don’t know where we are, and the people are deceitful in their statements; unaccountably so, though we deal fairly and kindly.  Rain, rain, rain as if it never tired on this watershed.  The showers show little in the gauge, but keep everything and every place wet and sloppy.

Our people return with a wretched present from Chitunkue; bad flour and a fowl, evidently meant to be rejected.  He sent also an exorbitant demand for gunpowder, and payment of guides.  I refused his present, and must plod on without guides, and this is very difficult from the numerous streams.

24th January, 1873.—­Went on E. and N.E. to avoid the deep part of a large river, which requires two canoes, but the men sent by the chief would certainly hide them.  Went 1-3/4 hour’s journey to a large stream through drizzling rain, at least 300 yards of deep water, amongst sedges and sponges of 100 yards.  One part was neck deep for fifty yards, and the water cold.  We plunged in