th thirty men on board his boat, Stanley began his
journey down the river, while Tippu Tib and Pocock marched with all the
rest of the troop along the bank. The natives had retired, but their cry
of _Ooh-hu-hu!_ was still heard in the distance. On an island between
the main river and a tributary Stanley's party landed to wait for the
caravan and help it over the affluent. In the meantime Stanley made a
short excursion up the tributary, the water of which was inky-black
owing to the dark tree roots which wound about its bottom. On his return
he found the camp island surrounded by hostile canoes and heard random
shots, but when his boat drew near, the savages were frightened and
rowed away.

At length Tippu Tib straggled up with his party, and the journey could
be continued. The boat was rowed near the bank, and the two divisions
were kept in touch with each other by means of drums. All the villages
they came to were deserted, but the natives were evidently keeping a
close watch on these wonderful strangers, for one day when some of
Stanley's men were out scouting on two captured canoes, they were
attacked, and when they tried to escape they came among eddies and
rapids, where their boats capsized and four rifles were lost. The men
climbed up and sat astride the upturned canoes until they were rescued
by their comrades.

Then the expedition went on again. The river was usually half a mile
broad or more, and frequently divided by long rows of islands and holms.
The large village of Ikondu consisted of cage-like reed huts built in
two long rows. All the inhabitants had fled, but pitchers full of wine
were suspended from the palms, melons and bananas emitted their
fragrance, and there was plenty of manioc plantations, ground-nuts, and
sugar-cane. Near the place was found a large old canoe, cracked, leaky,
and dilapidated, but it was patched up, put in the river, and used as a
hospital. Smallpox and dysentery raged in the caravan, and two or three
corpses were thrown daily into the river.

Once, as the small flotilla was rowing quietly along not far from the
bank, a man in the hospital canoe cried out. He had been hit in the
chest by a poisoned barb, and this was followed by a whole shower of
arrows. The boats were rowed out from the dangerous bank, and a camp was
afterwards pitched on an old market-place. The usual fence was set up
round the tents, and sentinels were posted in the bush. Then were heard
shots, cries, and n