About four miles up the valley we came to a village named Kanyenjeré Mponda, at the fountain-eye of the Bua, and thence sent men back for the loads, while we had the shelter of good huts during a heavy thunder-shower, and made us willing to remain all night. The valley is lovely in the extreme. The mountains on each side are gently rounded, and, as usual, covered over with tree foliage, except where the red soil is exposed by recent grass-burnings. Quartz rocks jut out, and much drift of that material has been carried down by the gullies into the bottom. These gullies being in compact clay, the water has but little power of erosion, so they are worn deep but narrow. Some fragments of titaniferous iron ore, with haematite changed by heat, and magnetic, lay in the gully, which had worn itself a channel on the north side of the village. The Bua, like most African streams whose sources I have seen, rises in an oozing boggy spot. Another stream, the Tembwé, rises near the same spot, and flows N.W. into, the Loangwa. We saw Shuaré palms in its bed.
21st November, 1866.—We left Bua fountain, lat. 13° 40' south, and made a short march to Mokatoba, a stockaded village, where the people refused to admit us till the headman, came. They have a little food here, and sold us some. We have been on rather short commons for some time, and this made our detention agreeable. We rose a little in altitude after leaving this morning, then, though in the same valley, made a little descent towards the N.N.W. High winds came driving over the eastern range, which is called Mchinjé, and bring large masses of clouds, which are the rain-givers. They seem to come from the south-east. The scenery of the valley is lovely and rich in the extreme. All the foliage is fresh washed and clean; young herbage is bursting through the ground; the air is deliciously cool, and the birds are singing joyfully: one, called Mzié, is a good songster, with a loud melodious voice. Large game abounds, but we do not meet with it.
We are making our way slowly to the north, where food is said to be abundant. I divided about 50 lbs. of powder among the people of my following to shoot with, and buy goats or other food as we could. This reduces our extra loads to three—four just now, Simon being sick again. He rubbed goat's-fat on a blistered surface, and caused an eruption of pimples.
Mem.—The people assent by lifting up the head instead of nodding it down as we do; deaf mutes are said to do the same.
22nd November, 1866.—Leaving Mokatoba village, and proceeding down the valley, which on the north is shut up apparently by a mountain called Kokwé, we crossed the Kasamba, about two miles from Mokatoba, and yet found it, though so near its source, four yards wide, and knee deep. Its source is about a mile above Mokatoba, in the same valley, with the Bua and Tembwé. We were told that elephants were near, and we saw where they had been an hour before; but after seeking about could not find them. An old man, in the deep defile between Kokwé and Yasika Mountains, pointed to the latter, and said, "Elephants! why, there they are. Elephants, or tusks, walking on foot are never absent;" but though we were eager for flesh, we could not give him credit, and went down the defile which gives rise to the Sandili River: where we crossed it in the defile, it was a mere rill, having large trees along its banks, yet it is said to go to the Loangwa of Zumbo, N.W. or N.N.W. We were now in fact upon the slope which inclines to that river, and made a rapid descent in altitude. We reached Silubi's village, on the base of a rocky detached hill. No food to be had; all taken by Mazitu, so Silubi gave me some Masuko fruit instead. They find that they can keep the Mazitu off by going up a rocky eminence, and hurling stones and arrows down on the invaders: they can defend themselves also by stockades, and these are becoming very general.
On leaving Silubi's village, we went to a range of hills, and after passing through found that we had a comparatively level country on the north: it would be called a well-wooded country if we looked at it only from a distance. It is formed into long ridges, all green and wooded; but clumps of large trees, where villages have been, or are still situated, show that the sylvan foliage around and over the whole country is that of mere hop-poles. The whole of this upland region might be called woody, if we bear in mind that where the population is dense, and has been long undisturbed, the trees are cut down to the size of low bush. Large districts are kept to about the size of hop-poles, growing on pollards three or four feet from the ground, by charcoal burners, who, in all instances, are smiths too.
On reaching Zeoré's village, on the Lokuzhwa, we found it stockaded, and stagnant pools round three sides of it. The Mazitu had come, pillaged all the surrounding villages, looked at this, and then went away; so the people had food to sell. They here call themselves Echéwa, and have a different marking from the Atumboka. The men have the hair dressed as if a number of the hairs of elephants' tails were stuck around the head: the women wear a small lip-ring, and a straw or piece of stick in the lower lip, which dangles down about level with the lower edge of the chin: their clothing in front is very scanty. The men know nothing of distant places, the Manganja being a very stay-at-home people. The stockades are crowded with huts, and the children have but small room to play in the narrow spaces between.
25th November, 1866.—Sunday at Zeoré's. The villagers thought we prayed for rain, which was much needed. The cracks in the soil have not yet come together by the «welling of soil produced by moisture. I disabused their minds about rain-making prayers, and found the headman intelligent.
I did not intend to notice the Lokuzhwa, it is such a contemptible little rill, and not at present running; but in going to our next point, Mpandé's village, we go along its valley, and cross it several times, as it makes for the Loangwa in the north. The valley is of rich dark red loam, and so many lilies of the Amaryllis kind have established themselves as completely to mask the colour of the soil. They form a covering of pure white where the land has been cleared by the hoe. As we go along this valley to the Loangwa, we descend in altitude. It is said to rise at "Nombé rumé," as we formerly heard.
27th November, 1866.—Zeoré's people would not carry without prepayment, so we left our extra loads as usual and went on, sending men back for them: these, however, did not come till 27th, and then two of my men got fever. I groan in spirit, and do not know how to make our gear into nine loads only. It is the knowledge that we shall be detained, some two or three months during the heavy rains that makes me cleave to it as means of support.