Sayd bin Majid had stated that his canoe would carry twenty-five men, and 3,500 lbs. of ivory.  Acting upon this information, we embarked twenty-five men, several of whom had stored away bags of salt for the purposes of trade with the natives; but upon pushing off from the shore near Ujiji, we discovered the boat was too heavily laden, and was down to the gunwale.  Returning in-shore, we disembarked six men, and unloaded the bags of salt, which left us with sixteen rowers, Selim, Ferajji the cook, and the two Wajiji guides.

Having thus properly trimmed our boat we again pushed off, and steered her head for Bangwe Island, which was distant four or five miles from the Bunder of Ujiji.  While passing this island the guides informed us that the Arabs and Wajiji took shelter on it during an incursion of the Watuta—­which took place some years ago—­when they came and invaded Ujiji, and massacred several of the inhabitants.  Those who took refuge on the island were the only persons who escaped the fire and sword with which the Watuta had visited Ujiji.

After passing the island and following the various bends and indentations of the shore, we came in sight of the magnificent bay of Kigoma, which strikes one at once as being an excellent harbor from the variable winds which blow over the Tanganika.  About 10 A.M. we drew in towards the village of Kigoma, as the east wind was then rising, and threatened to drive us to sea.  With those travelling parties who are not in much hurry Kigoma is always the first port for canoes bound north from Ujiji.  The next morning at dawn we struck tent, stowed baggage, cooked, and drank coffee, and set off northward again.

The lake was quite calm; its waters, of a dark-green colour, reflected the serene blue sky above.  The hippopotami came up to breathe in alarmingly close proximity to our canoe, and then plunged their heads again, as if they were playing hide-and-seek with us.  Arriving opposite the high wooded hills of Bemba, and being a mile from shore, we thought it a good opportunity to sound the depth of the water, whose colour seemed to indicate great depth.  We found thirty-five fathoms at this place.

Our canoeing of this day was made close in-shore, with a range of hills, beautifully wooded and clothed with green grass, sloping abruptly, almost precipitously, into the depths of the fresh-water sea, towering immediately above us, and as we rounded the several capes or points, roused high expectations of some new wonder, or some exquisite picture being revealed as the deep folds disclosed themselves to us.  Nor were we disappointed.  The wooded hills with a wealth of boscage of beautiful trees, many of which were in bloom, and crowned with floral glory, exhaling an indescribably sweet fragrance, lifting their heads in varied contour—­one pyramidal, another a truncated cone; one table-topped, another ridgy, like the steep roof of a church; one a glorious heave with an even outline, another jagged