unsuitable.  On the morning of the 21st the uncomfortable “Asthmatic” grounded on a sandbank and filled.  She could neither be emptied nor got off.  The river rose during the night, and all that was visible of the worn-out craft next day was about six feet of her two masts.  Most of the property we had on board was saved; and we spent the Christmas of 1860 encamped on the island of Chimba.  Canoes were sent for from Senna; and we reached it on the 27th, to be again hospitably entertained by our friend, Senhor Ferrao.

We reached the Kongone on the 4th of January, 1861.  A flagstaff and a Custom-house had been erected during our absence; a hut, also, for a black lance-corporal and three privates.  By the kind permission of the lance-corporal, who came to see us as soon as he had got into his trousers and shirt, we took up our quarters in the Custom-house, which, like the other buildings, is a small square floorless hut of mangrove stakes overlaid with reeds.  The soldiers complained of hunger, they had nothing to eat but a little mapira, and were making palm wine to deaden their cravings.  While waiting for a ship, we had leisure to read the newspapers and periodicals we found in the mail which was waiting our arrival at Tette.  Several were a year and a half old.

Our provisions began to run short; and towards the end of the month there was nothing left but a little bad biscuit and a few ounces of sugar.  Coffee and tea were expended, but scarcely missed, as our sailors discovered a pretty good substitute in roasted mapira.  Fresh meat was obtained in abundance from our antelope preserves on the large island made by a creek between the Kongone and East Luabo.

In this focus of decaying vegetation, nothing is so much to be dreaded as inactivity.  We had, therefore, to find what exercise and amusement we could, when hunting was not required, in peering about in the fetid swamps; to have gone mooning about, in listless idleness, would have ensured fever in its worst form, and probably with fatal results.

A curious little blenny-fish swarms in the numerous creeks which intersect the mangrove topes.  When alarmed, it hurries across the surface of the water in a series of leaps.  It may be considered amphibious, as it lives as much out of the water as in it, and its most busy time is during low water.  Then it appears on the sand or mud, near the little pools left by the retiring tide; it raises itself on its pectoral fins into something of a standing attitude, and with its large projecting eyes keeps a sharp look-out for the light-coloured fly, on which it feeds.  Should the fly alight at too great a distance for even a second leap, the blenny moves slowly towards it like a cat to its prey, or like a jumping spider; and, as soon as it gets within two or three inches of the insect, by a sudden spring contrives to pop its underset mouth directly over the unlucky victim.  He is, moreover, a pugnacious little fellow; and