oved fatal. The traveller's means of
usefulness were limited to observation of the general character of the
country, some investigation of its vegetable and animal life, and study
of the customs of its human inhabitants,--in none of which does he
develop much variety or novelty.

Nearly the whole route lay through hilly or mountainous country, for the
most part thickly wooded and sparsely peopled. There was a very notable
absence of all the larger African animals, and those encountered seemed
to be as peaceful in their characters as their neighbors, the tribes of
wild men. The nations through which Du Chaillu passed after leaving the
Commi were the Ashira, the Ishogo, the Apono, and the Ashango, and none
appears to have differed greatly from the others except in name. In
habits they are all extremely alike, uniting a primitive simplicity of
costume and architecture to highly sophisticated traits of lying and
stealing. They are not warlike, and not very cruel, except in cases of
witchcraft, which are extremely dealt with,--as, indeed, they used to be
in New England. Fetichism is the only religion of these tribes, and they
seem to believe firmly in no superior powers but those of evil. They are
docile, however, and susceptible of control. Du Chaillu had the
misfortune to spread the small-pox among them from some infected members
of his train; and although all their superstitious fears were excited
against him, the people were held in check by their principal men; and
Du Chaillu met with no serious molestation until he reached Mouaou
Kombo. Here he found the inhabitants comparatively hostile and
distrustful, and in firing off a salute,--with the double purpose of
intimidating them and restoring them to confidence,--one of his retinue
accidentally shot two of the villagers. All hopes of friendly
intercourse and of further progress were now at an end, and Du Chaillu
began a rapid retreat, his men casting away in their flight his
photographs, journals, and note-books, and hopelessly impairing the
value of the possible narrative which he might survive to write.

Such narrative as he has actually written, we have briefly sketched. Its
fault is want of condensation and of graphic power, so that, although
you must follow the traveller through his difficulties and dangers, it
is quite as much by effort of sympathy as by reason of interest that you
do so. For the paucity of result from all the labor and hardship
undergone, the aut