11th September, 1871.—­Up a very steep high mountain range, Moloni or Mononi, and down to a village at the bottom on the other side, of a man called Molembu.

12th September, 1871.—­Two men sick.  Wait, though I am now comparatively sound and well.  Dura flour, which we can now procure, helps to strengthen me:  it is nearest to wheaten flour; maize meal is called “cold,” and not so wholesome as the Holeus sorghum or dura.  A lengthy march through a level country, with high mountain ranges on each hand; along that on the left our first path lay, and it was very fatiguing.  We came to the Rivulet Kalangai.  I had hinted to Mohamad that if he harboured my deserters, it might go hard with him; and he came after me for two marches, and begged me not to think that he did encourage them.  They came impudently into the village, and I had to drive them out:  I suspected that he had sent them.  I explained, and he gave me a goat, which I sent back for.

13th September, 1871.—­This march back completely used up the Manyuema boy:  he could not speak, or tell what he wanted cooked, when he arrived.  I did not see him go back, and felt sorry for the poor boy, who left us by night.  People here would sell nothing, so I was glad of the goat.

14th September, 1871.—­To Pyanamosinde’s. (15th September, 1871.) To Karungamagao’s; very fine undulating green country. (16th and 17th September, 1871.) Rest, as we could get food to buy.

(18th September, 1871.) To a stockaded village, where the people ordered us to leave.  We complied, and went out half a mile and built our sheds in the forest:  I like sheds in the forest much better than huts in the villages, for we have no mice or vermin, and incur no obligation.

19th September, 1871.—­Found that Barua are destroying all the Manyuema villages not stockaded.

20th September, 1871.—­We came to Kunda’s on the River Katemba, through great plantations of cassava, and then to a woman chief’s, and now regularly built our own huts apart from the villages, near the hot fountain called Kabila which is about blood-heat, and flows across the path.  Crossing this we came to Mokwaniwa’s, on the River Gombeze, and met a caravan, under Nassur Masudi, of 200 guns.  He presented a fine sheep, and reported that Seyed Majid was dead—­he had been ailing and fell from some part of his new house at Darsalam, and in three days afterwards expired.  He was a true and warm friend to me and did all he could to aid me with his subjects, giving me two Sultan’s letters for the purpose.  Seyed Burghash succeeds him; this change causes anxiety.  Will Seyed Burghash’s goodness endure now that he has the Sultanate?  Small-pox raged lately at Ujiji.

22nd September, 1871.—­Caravan goes northwards, and we rest, and eat the sheep kindly presented.