represent the eyes, the nose is patulous, as though offended by evil savour; the upper lip is drawn up in disdain, the under overlaps the chin; and a little mirror is inserted into the umbilical region.  Mavunga’s dress is represented by an English billy-cock hat; while all kinds of “medicines,” calabashes, and a coarse knife depend from his neck to his shoulders.  The figures at the door are generally called “Ngolowanda.”

It is said, I believe, of the Englishwoman-

“If she will, she will, you may depend on’t;
If she won’t, she won’t, and there’s an end on’t.”

I may safely predicate the same of the negro, who owns, like the goose, a “singularly inflexible organization.”  Whenever he can, he will, and he must, have his head.  Gidi Mavunga would not even break his fast before touching the cloth and beads, which are to pay for guidance and carriage.  The hut-door was closed, and in half an hour all was settled to every one’s satisfaction.  Yet the veteran did not disdain a little rascality.  Awaiting his opportunity, he tossed into a dark corner a little bundle of two fancy cloths which I had given the “linguistero” and, when detected, he shamelessly declared that such people have no right to trade.

Finally, our departure was settled for the next morning, and the women at once began their preparations.  Although they have sperm-candles, torches are preferred for the road; odoriferous gums are made up, as in the Gaboon, with rags or splints of bark; hence the old writers say, “instead of putting wicks into the torches, they put torches into the wicks.”  The travelling foods are mostly boiled batatas (sweet potatoes), Kwanga, a hard and innutritious pudding-like preparation of cassava which the “Expedition” (p. 197) calls “Coongo, a bitter root, that requires four days’ boiling to deprive it of its pernicious quality;” this is probably the black or poisonous manioc.  The national dish, “chindungwa,” would test the mouth of any curry-eater in the world:  it is composed of boiled ground-nuts and red peppers in equal proportions, pounded separately in wooden mortars, mixed and squeezed to drain off the oil; the hard mass, flavoured with salt or honey, will keep for weeks.  The bees are not hived in Congo-land, but smoked out of hollow trees:  as in F. Po and Camarones Peaks, they rarely sting, like the harmless Angelito of the Caraccas, “silla,” or saddleback; which Humboldt ("Personal Narrative,” chap. xiii.) describes as a “little hairy bee, a little smaller than the honey-bee of the north of Europe.”  Captain Hall found the same near Tampico; and a hive-full was sent to the blind but ingenious Francis Huber of Geneva, who died in 1831.  This seems to be the case with the busy hymenopter generally in the highlands of Africa; the lowland swarms have been the terror of travellers from Mungo Park’s day to that of the first East African Expedition.