Our path crossed the valley, in a north-easterly direction, up the course of a beautiful flowing stream.  Many of the gardens had excellent cotton growing in them.  An hour’s march brought us to the foot of the Manganja hills, up which lay the toilsome road.  The vegetation soon changed; as we rose bamboos appeared, and new trees and plants were met with, which gave such incessant employment to Dr. Kirk, that he travelled the distance three times over.  Remarkably fine trees, one of which has oil-yielding seeds, and belongs to the mahogany family, grow well in the hollows along the rivulet courses.  The ascent became very fatiguing, and we were glad of a rest.  Looking back from an elevation of a thousand feet, we beheld a lovely prospect.  The eye takes in at a glance the valley beneath, and the many windings of its silver stream Makubula, or Kubvula, from the shady hill-side, where it emerges in foaming haste, to where it slowly glides into the tranquil Shire; then the Shire itself is seen for many a mile above and below Chibisa’s, and the great level country beyond, with its numerous green woods; until the prospect, west and north-west, is bounded far away by masses of peaked and dome-shaped blue mountains, that fringe the highlands of the Maravi country.

After a weary march we halted at Makolongwi, the village of Chitimba.  It stands in a woody hollow on the first of the three terraces of the Manganja hills, and, like all other Manganja villages, is surrounded by an impenetrable hedge of poisonous euphorbia.  This tree casts a deep shade, which would render it difficult for bowmen to take aim at the villagers inside.  The grass does not grow beneath it, and this may be the reason why it is so universally used, for when dry the grass would readily convey fire to the huts inside; moreover, the hedge acts as a fender to all flying sparks.  As strangers are wont to do, we sat down under some fine trees near the entrance of the village.  A couple of mats, made of split reeds, were spread for the white men to sit on; and the headman brought a seguati, or present, of a small goat and a basket of meal.  The full value in beads and cotton cloth was handed to him in return.  He measured the cloth, doubled it, and then measured that again.  The beads were scrutinized; he had never seen beads of that colour before, and should like to consult with his comrades before accepting them, and this, after repeated examinations and much anxious talk, he concluded to do.  Meal and peas were then brought for sale.  A fathom of blue cotton cloth, a full dress for man or woman, was produced.  Our Makololo headman, Sininyane, thinking a part of it was enough for the meal, was proceeding to tear it, when Chitimba remarked that it was a pity to cut such a nice dress for his wife, he would rather bring more meal.  “All right,” said Sininyane; “but look, the cloth is very wide, so see that the basket which carries the meal be wide too, and