We encamped under a banian tree; our surroundings were the now light-grey waters of the Tanganika, an amphitheatral range of hills, and the village of Niasanga, situated at the mouth of the rivulet Niasanga, with its grove of palms, thicket of plantains, and plots of grain and cassava fields.  Near our tent were about half-a-dozen canoes, large and small, belonging to the villagers.  Our tent door fronted the glorious expanse of fresh water, inviting the breeze, and the views of distant Ugoma and Ukaramba, and the Island of Muzimu, whose ridges appeared of a deep-blue colour.  At our feet were the clean and well-washed pebbles, borne upward into tiny lines and heaps by the restless surf.  A search amongst these would reveal to us the material of the mountain heaps which rose behind and on our right and left; there was schist, conglomerate sandstone, a hard white clay, an ochreish clay containing much iron, polished quartz, &c.  Looking out of our tent, we could see a line on each side of us of thick tall reeds, which form something like a hedge between the beach and the cultivated area around Niasanga.  Among birds seen here, the most noted were the merry wagtails, which are regarded as good omens and messengers of peace by the natives, and any harm done unto them is quickly resented, and is fineable.  Except to the mischievously inclined, they offer no inducement to commit violence.  On landing, they flew to meet us, balancing themselves in the air in front, within easy reach of our hands.  The other birds were crows, turtle-doves, fish-hawks, kingfishers, ibis nigra and ibis religiosa, flocks of whydah birds, geese, darters, paddy birds, kites, and eagles.

At this place the Doctor suffered from dysentery—­it is his only weak point, he says; and, as I afterwards found, it is a frequent complaint with him.  Whatever disturbed his mind, or any irregularity in eating, was sure to end in an attack of dysentery, which had lately become of a chronic character.

The third day of our journey on the Tanganika brought us to Zassi River and village, after a four hours’ pull.  Along the line of road the mountains rose 2,000 and 2,500 feet above the waters of the lake.  I imagined the scenery getting more picturesque and animated at every step, and thought it by far lovelier than anything seen near Lake George or on the Hudson.  The cosy nooks at the head of the many small bays constitute most admirable pictures, filled in as they are with the ever-beautiful feathery palms and broad green plantain fronds.  These nooks have all been taken possession of by fishermen, and their conically beehive-shaped huts always peep from under the frondage.  The shores are thus extremely populous; every terrace, small plateau, and bit of level ground is occupied.