These people have a bad name in the country in front, even among their own tribe.  A slave-trading Arab we met above, thinking we were then on our way down the river, advised us not to land at the villages, but to stay in the boats, as the inhabitants were treacherous, and attacked at once, without any warning or provocation.  Our experience of their conduct fully confirmed the truth of what he said.  There was no trade on the river where they lived, but beyond that part there was a brisk canoe-trade in rice and salt; those further in the interior cultivating rice, and sending it down the river to be exchanged for salt, which is extracted from the earth in certain places on the banks.  Our assailants hardly anticipated resistance, and told a neighbouring chief that, if they had known who we were, they would not have attacked English, who can “bite hard.”  They offered no molestations on our way down, though we were an hour in passing their village.  Our canoe-men plucked up courage on finding that we had come off unhurt.  One of them, named Chiku, acknowledging that he had been terribly frightened, said.  “His fear was not the kind which makes a man jump overboard and run away; but that which brings the heart up to the mouth, and renders the man powerless, and no more able to fight than a woman.”

In the country of Chonga Michi, about 80 or 90 miles up the river, we found decent people, though of the same tribe, who treated strangers with civility.  A body of Makoa had come from their own country in the south, and settled here.  The Makoa are known by a cicatrice in the forehead shaped like the new moon with the horns turned downwards.  The tribe possesses all the country west of Mosambique; and they will not allow any of the Portuguese to pass into their country more than two hours’ distance from the fort.  A hill some ten or twelve miles distant, called Pau, has been visited during the present generation only by one Portuguese and one English officer, and this visit was accomplished only by the influence of the private friendship of a chief for this Portuguese gentleman.  Our allies have occupied the Fort of Mosambique for three hundred years, but in this, as in all other cases, have no power further than they can see from a gun-carriage.

The Makoa chief, Matingula, was hospitable and communicative, telling us all he knew of the river and country beyond.  He had been once to Iboe and once at Mosambique with slaves.  Our men understood his language easily.  A useless musket he had bought at one of the above places was offered us for a little cloth.  Having received a present of food from him, a railway rug was handed to him:  he looked at it—­had never seen cloth like that before—­did not approve of it, and would rather have cotton cloth.  “But this will keep you warm at night.”—­“Oh, I do not wish to be kept warm at night.”—­We gave him a bit of cotton cloth, not one-third the value of the rug, but it was more highly prized.