called,
Tanganyika.[50] We had to descend at least 2000 feet before we got to
the level of the Lake. It seems about eighteen or twenty miles broad,
and we could see about thirty miles up to the north. Four considerable
rivers flow into the space before us. The nearly perpendicular ridge
of about 2000 feet extends with breaks all around, and there,
embosomed in tree-covered rocks, reposes the Lake peacefully in the
huge cup-shaped cavity.

I never saw anything so still and peaceful as it lies all the morning.
About noon a gentle breeze springs up, and causes the waves to assume
a bluish tinge. Several rocky islands rise in the eastern end, which
are inhabited by fishermen, who capture abundance of fine large fish,
of which they enumerate about twenty-four species. In the north it
seems to narrow into a gateway, but the people are miserably deficient
in geographical knowledge, and can tell us nothing about it. They
suspect us, and we cannot get information, or indeed much of anything
else. I feel deeply thankful at having got so far. I am excessively
weak--cannot walk without tottering, and have constant singing in the
head, but the Highest will lead me further.

Lat. of the spot we touched at first, 2nd April, 1867. Lat. 8 deg. 46' 54"
S., long. 31 deg. 57'; but I only worked out (and my head is out of order)
one set of observations. Height above level of the sea over 2800 feet,
by boiling-point thermometers and barometer. The people won't let me
sound the Lake.

After being a fortnight at this Lake it still appears one of
surpassing loveliness. Its peacefulness is remarkable, though at times
it is said to be lashed up by storms. It lies in a deep basin whose
sides are nearly perpendicular, but covered well with trees; the rocks
which appear are bright red argillaceous schist; the trees at present
all green: down some of these rocks come beautiful cascades, and
buffaloes, elephants, and antelopes wander and graze on the more level
spots, while lions roar by night. The level place below is not two
miles from the perpendicular. The village (Pambete), at which we
first touched the Lake, is surrounded by palm-oil trees--not the
stunted ones of Lake Nyassa, but the real West Coast palm-oil
tree,[51] requiring two men to carry a bunch of the ripe fruit. In the
morning and evening huge crocodiles may be observed quietly making
their way to their feeding grounds; hippopotami snort by night and at
early morning.

After I ha