Beyond the Kissangi land lies the splendid tropical valley of the Kubale River, filled with mountain streams and cataracts, and rejoicing in a most luxuriant vegetation. Then followed a broad and lofty table-land, stretching eastward to the base of another and higher range of mountains, called the Lingi-Lingi. Herds of buffaloes, zebras, and antelopes pastured on the rich grasses of the plain, and the natives immediately organized a hunting-party. The sight of the buffaloes, however, so alarmed Magyar that he climbed to the top of a huge ant-hill, and his nervous excitement was so great when the first beast stormed past, that he was unable to pull the trigger. He threw away the flint, and pretended to have lost it, lest the natives should detect his lack of the coolness necessary to a hunter. The former succeeded in killing seven of the animals, which gave them all a banquet of the tough flesh.

After encountering a terrific storm at the base of the Lingi-Lingi Mountains, they commenced the ascent. The path led for a time through huge forests, matted together with vines and parasitic plants, then slowly emerged upon open slopes, and wound in zigzags around the peaks, frequently along the verge of immense chasms. Magyar describes the scenery as imposing in its grandeur and the variety of its forms. The mountain peaks exhibited the most singular and grotesque forms. Some were clothed with pines; others were pinnacles of naked rock; and between them all the noise of cataracts resounded from the deeps. At the summit, about 5,000 feet above the sea, commenced another table-land, from the lofty

level of which the mountain-ranges far to the east and west were visible, like lines of cloud.

The former of these ranges, called the Djamba, was the remaining barrier to be passed before reaching the country of Bihe. Between it and the LingiLingi range lies the land of Hambo, not of great extent, but widely known for the warlike and plundering habits of its people. The march of the caravan across this region was fortunately not interrupted by any attack, but it was rendered slow and difficult by the rains, which had soaked the soil and swollen all the streams. At last they reached the wooded basehills, above which tower the bald granite summits of the Djamba range. In spite of the difficulties of the ascent, the natives all shouted and sang at the pros pect of so soon reaching their homes. Thunders from the peaks answered their songs, and in spite of their exertions, they were drenched by a furious rain long before reaching the summit. Magyar caught a fever from the exposure, but the caravan rested on the following day, and he was able to cure himself by a simple sudorific process.

The Djamba negroes, who inhabit the upper part of the mountains, and form an independent little republic of their own, came to visit the camp. They were a strong and finely-formed race, but rather impudent in their ways. One of them related to Magyar that he had formerly been the slave of a white man who lived in the mountains. This appeared to have been a Portuguese named Cota, an exile from Brazil, who, sixteen years before, had led an adventurous life in the interior. The Djamba stated that he had dis

covered gold in the mountains, and employed the natives to wash it out from the sands. On account of his cruelty and violence he had provoked their hos tility, but succeeded in escaping to Benguela, whence he returned to Brazil.

The caravan now continued its journey across the highest table-land of Sambos, which is probably 6,000 feet above the sea. Here the dark, rich soil is of a sandy character, and the numerous streams form extensive swamps and pools. The plain is dotted with little hills, upon which the natives build their villages, which are shaded with groups of trees resembling the sycamore. Towards the close of the journey, they were visited by a hail-storm so severe that the ground was covered as with a crust of ice. But this was the last of their hardships: they had reached the frontiers of Bihe, and the company of nearly 2,000 persons began to divide into little squads and scatter towards their different homes. Messengers had been sent in advance, to announce their coming, so that the women could brew maize-beer, and even carry it to meet them on the last stage of the march.

Nearly all Magyar's servants and porters here left him, refusing to appear before their families in that character: only the kissongo and his relatives remained faithful, for they considered the white man as their guest, and their families had been instructed to prepare for his reception. They now pushed forward with great impatience, delayed only by too copious indulgence in beer, and in two or three days more arrived at their home. There Magyar was received with great kindness. After the first salutations were over, one of