October the 25th will be remembered by me as a day of great troubles; in fact, a series of troubles began from this date.  We struck an easterly road in order to obtain a passage to the lofty plateau which bounded the valley of Imrera on the west and on the north.  We camped, after a two and a half hours’ march, at its foot.  The defile promised a feasible means of ascent to the summit of the plateau, which rose upward in a series of scarps a thousand feet above the valley of Imrera.

While ascending that lofty arc of mountains which bounded westerly and northerly the basin of Imrera, extensive prospects southward and eastward were revealed.  The character of the scenery at Ukawendi is always animated and picturesque, but never sublime.  The folds of this ridge contained several ruins of bomas, which seemed to have been erected during war time.

The mbemba fruit was plentiful along this march, and every few minutes I could see from the rear one or two men hastening to secure a treasure of it which they discovered on the ground.

A little before reaching the camp I had a shot at a leopard, but failed to bring him down as he bounded away.  At night the lions roared as at the Mtambu River.

A lengthy march under the deep twilight shadows of a great forest, which protected us from the hot sunbeams, brought us, on the next day, to a camp newly constructed by a party of Arabs from Ujiji, who had advanced thus far on their road to Unyanyembe, but, alarmed at the reports of the war between Mirambo and the Arabs, had returned.  Our route was along the right bank of the Rugufu, a broad sluggish stream, well choked with the matete reeds and the papyrus.  The tracks and the bois de vaches of buffaloes were numerous, and there were several indications of rhinoceros being near.  In a deep clump of timber near this river we discovered a colony of bearded and leonine-looking monkeys.

As we were about leaving our camp on the morning of the 28th a herd of buffalo walked deliberately into view.  Silence was quickly restored, but not before the animals, to their great surprise, had discovered the danger which confronted them.  We commenced stalking them, but we soon heard the thundering sound of their gallop, after which it becomes a useless task to follow them, with a long march in a wilderness before one.

The road led on this day over immense sheets of sandstone and iron ore.  The water was abominable, and scarce, and famine began to stare us in the face.  We travelled for six hours, and had yet seen no sign of cultivation anywhere.  According to my map we were yet two long marches from the Malagarazi—­if Captain Burton had correctly laid down the position of the river; according to the natives’ account, we should have arrived at the Malagarazi on this day.