At the end of the first week, an old man called at our camp, and said he would send a present from his village, which was up among the hills.  He appeared next morning with a number of his people, bringing meal, cassava-root, and yams.  The language differs considerably from that on the Zambesi, but it is of the same family.  The people are Makonde, and are on friendly terms with the Mabiha, and the Makoa, who live south of the Rovuma.  When taking a walk up the slopes of the north bank, we found a great variety of trees we had seen nowhere else.  Those usually met with far inland seem here to approach the coast.  African ebony, generally named mpingu, is abundant within eight miles of the sea; it attains a larger size, and has more of the interior black wood than usual.  A good timber tree called mosoko is also found; and we saw half-caste Arabs near the coast cutting up a large log of it into planks.  Before reaching the top of the rise we were in a forest of bamboos.  On the plateau above, large patches were cleared and cultivated.  A man invited us to take a cup of beer; on our complying with his request, the fear previously shown by the bystanders vanished.  Our Mazaro men could hardly understand what they said.  Some of them waded in the river and caught a curious fish in holes in the claybank.  Its ventral fin is peculiar, being unusually large, and of a circular shape, like boys’ playthings called “suckers.”  We were told that this fish is found also in the Zambesi, and is called Chirire.  Though all its fins are large, it is asserted that it rarely ventures out into the stream, but remains near its hole, where it is readily caught by the hand.

The Zambesi men thoroughly understood the characteristic marks of deep or shallow water, and showed great skill in finding out the proper channel.  The Molimo is the steersman at the helm, the Mokadamo is the head canoe-man, and he stands erect on the bows with a long pole in his hands, and directs the steersman where to go, aiding the rudder, if necessary, with his pole.  The others preferred to stand and punt our boat, rather than row with our long oars, being able to shove her ahead faster than they could pull her.  They are accustomed to short paddles.  Our Mokadamo was affected with moon-blindness, and could not see at all at night.  His comrades then led him about, and handed him his food.  They thought that it was only because his eyes rested all night, that he could see the channel so well by day.  At difficult places the Mokadamo sometimes, however, made mistakes, and ran us aground; and the others, evidently imbued with the spirit of resistance to constituted authority, and led by Joao an aspirant for the office, jeered him for his stupidity.  “Was he asleep?  Why did he allow the boat to come there?  Could he not see the channel was somewhere else?” At last the Mokadamo threw down the pole in disgust, and told Joao he might be a Mokadamo himself.  The office was accepted with alacrity; but in a few minutes he too ran us into a worse difficulty than his predecessor ever did, and was at once disrated amidst the derision of his comrades.