28th December, 1869.—­Away to Monangoi’s village, near the Luamo River, here 150 or more yards wide and deep.  A man passed us, bearing a human finger wrapped in a leaf; it was to be used as a charm, and belonged to a man killed in revenge:  the Arabs all took this as clear evidence of cannibalism:  I hesitated, however, to believe it.

29th, 30th, and 31st December, 1869.—­Heavy rains.  The Luamo is called the Luasse above this.  We crossed in canoes.

1st January, 1870.—­May the Almighty help me to finish, the work in hand, and retire through the Basango before the year is out.  Thanks for all last year’s loving kindness.

Our course was due north, with the Luasse flowing in a gently undulating green country on our right, and rounded mountains in Mbongo’s country on our left.

2nd January, 1870.—­Rested a day at Mbongo’s, as the people were honest.

3rd January, 1870.—­Reached a village at the edge of a great forest, where the people were excited and uproarious, but not ill-bred, they ran alongside the path with us shouting and making energetic remarks to each other about us.  A newly-married couple stood in a village where we stopped to inquire the way, with arms around each other very lovingly, and no one joked or poked fun at them.  We marched five hours through forest and crossed three rivulets and much stagnant water which the sun by the few rays he darts in cannot evaporate.  We passed several huge traps for elephants:  they are constructed thus—­a log of heavy wood, about 20 feet long, has a hole at one end for a climbing plant to pass through and suspend it, at the lower end a mortice is cut out of the side, and a wooden lance about 2 inches broad by 1-1/2 thick, and about 4 feet long, is inserted firmly in the mortice; a latch down on the ground, when touched by the animal’s foot, lets the beam run down on to his body, and the great weight of the wood drives in the lance and kills the animal.  I saw one lance which had accidentally fallen, and it had gone into the stiff clay soil two feet.

4th January, 1870.—–­ The villagers we passed were civil, but like noisy children, all talked and gazed.  When surrounded by 300 or 400, some who have not been accustomed to the ways of wild men think that a fight is imminent; but, poor things, no attack is thought of, if it does not begin on our side.  Many of Mohamad’s people were dreadfully afraid of being killed and eaten; one man out in search of ivory seemed to have lost sight of his companions, for they saw him running with all his might to a forest with no path in it; he was searched for for several days, and was given up as a murdered man, a victim of the cannibal Manyuema!  On the seventh day after he lost his head, he was led into camp by a headman, who not only found him wandering but fed and lodged and restored him to his people.

[With reference to the above we may add that nothing can exceed the terror in which cannibal nations are held by other African tribes.  It was common on the River Shire to hear Manganja and Ajawa people speak of tribes far away to the north who eat human bodies, and on every occasion the fact was related with the utmost horror and disgust.]