possession of it.  A railroad from Bagamoyo to Simbamwenni might be constructed with as much ease and rapidity as, and at far less cost than the Union Pacific Railway, whose rapid strides day by day towards completion the world heard of and admired.  A residence in this part of Africa, after a thorough system of drainage had been carried out, would not be attended with more discomfort than generally follows upon the occupation of new land.  The temperature at this season during the day never exceeded 85 degrees Fahrenheit.  The nights were pleasant—­ too cold without a pair of blankets for covering; and, as far as Simbamwenni, they were without that pest which is so dreadful on the Nebraska and Kansas prairies, the mosquito.  The only annoyances I know of that would tell hard on the settler is the determined ferocity of the mabungu, or horse-fly; the chufwa, &c., already described, which, until the dense forests and jungles were cleared, would be certain to render the keeping of domestic cattle unremunerative.

Contrary to expectation the Expedition was not able to start at the end of two days; the third and the fourth days were passed miserably enough in the desponding valley of Ungerengeri.  This river, small as it is in the dry seasons, becomes of considerable volume and power during the Masika, as we experienced to our sorrow.  It serves as a drain to a score of peaks and two long ranges of mountains; winding along their base, it is the recipient of the cascades seen flashing during the few intervals of sunlight, of all the nullahs and ravines which render the lengthy frontage of the mountain slopes so rugged and irregular, until it glides into the valley of Simbamwenni a formidable body of water, opposing a serious obstacle to caravans without means to build bridges; added to which was an incessant downfall of rain—­such a rain as shuts people in-doors and renders them miserable and unamiable—­a real London rain—­an eternal drizzle accompanied with mist and fog.  When the sun shone it appeared but a pale image of itself, and old pagazis, wise in their traditions as old whaling captains, shook their heads ominously at the dull spectre, and declared it was doubtful if the rain would cease for three weeks yet.

The site of the caravan camp on the hither side of the Ungerengeri was a hot-bed of malaria, unpleasant to witness—­an abomination to memory.  The filth of generations of pagazis had gathered innumerable hosts of creeping things.  Armies of black, white, and red ants infest the stricken soil; centipedes, like worms, of every hue, clamber over shrubs and plants; hanging to the undergrowth are the honey-combed nests of yellow-headed wasps with stings as harmful as scorpions; enormous beetles, as large as full-grown mice, roll dunghills over the ground; of all sorts, shapes, sizes, and hues are the myriad-fold vermin with which the ground teems; in short, the richest entomological collection could not vie in variety and numbers with the species which the four walls of my tent enclosed from morning until night.