The land immediately adjacent to the lake is low and fertile, though in some places marshy and tenanted by large flocks of ducks, geese, herons, crowned cranes, and other birds.  In the southern parts we have sometimes ten or a dozen miles of rich plains, bordered by what seem high ranges of well-wooded hills, running nearly parallel with the lake.  Northwards the mountains become loftier and present some magnificent views, range towering beyond range, until the dim, lofty outlines projected against the sky bound the prospect.  Still further north the plain becomes more narrow, until, near where we turned, it disappears altogether, and the mountains rise abruptly out of the lake, forming the north-east boundary of what was described to us as an extensive table-land; well suited for pasturage and agriculture, and now only partially occupied by a tribe of Zulus, who came from the south some years ago.  These people own large herds of cattle, and are constantly increasing in numbers by annexing other tribes.

CHAPTER X.

The Lake tribes—­The Mazitu—­Quantities of elephants—­Distressing journey—­Detention on the Shire.

Never before in Africa have we seen anything like the dense population on the shores of Lake Nyassa.  In the southern part there was an almost unbroken chain of villages.  On the beach of wellnigh of every little sandy bay, dark crowds were standing, gazing at the novel sight of a boat under sail; and wherever we landed we were surrounded in a few seconds by hundreds of men, women, and children, who hastened to have a stare at the “chirombo” (wild animals).

During a portion of the year, the northern dwellers on the lake have a harvest which furnishes a singular sort of food.  As we approached our limit in that direction, clouds, as of smoke rising from miles of burning grass, were observed bending in a south-easterly direction, and we thought that the unseen land on the opposite side was closing in, and that we were near the end of the lake.  But next morning we sailed through one of the clouds on our own side, and discovered that it was neither smoke nor haze, but countless millions of minute midges called “kungo” (a cloud or fog).  They filled the air to an immense height, and swarmed upon the water, too light to sink in it.  Eyes and mouth had to be kept closed while passing through this living cloud:  they struck upon the face like fine drifting snow.  Thousands lay in the boat when she emerged from the cloud of midges.  The people gather these minute insects by night, and boil them into thick cakes, to be used as a relish—­millions of midges in a cake.  A kungo cake, an inch thick, and as large as the blue bonnet of a Scotch ploughman, was offered to us; it was very dark in colour, and tasted not unlike caviare, or salted locusts.