the People.

After leaving the Kasai, we entered upon the extensive level plains
which we had formerly found in a flooded condition. The water on them
was not yet dried up, as it still remained in certain hollow spots.
Vultures were seen floating in the air, showing that carrion was to be
found; and, indeed, we saw several of the large game, but so exceedingly
wild as to be unapproachable. Numbers of caterpillars mounted the stalks
of grass, and many dragonflies and butterflies appeared, though this was
winter. The caprimulgus or goat-sucker, swifts, and different kinds of
swallows, with a fiery-red bee-eater in flocks, showed that the lowest
temperature here does not destroy the insects on which they feed.
Jet-black larks, with yellow shoulders, enliven the mornings with their
songs, but they do not continue so long on the wing as ours, nor soar
so high. We saw many of the pretty white ardea, and other water-birds,
flying over the spots not yet dried up; and occasionally wild ducks, but
these only in numbers sufficient to remind us that we were approaching
the Zambesi, where every water-fowl has a home.

While passing across these interminable-looking plains, the eye rests
with pleasure on a small flower, which exists in such numbers as to give
its own hue to the ground. One broad band of yellow stretches across our
path. On looking at the flowers which formed this golden carpet, we
saw every variety of that color, from the palest lemon to the richest
orange. Crossing a hundred yards of this, we came upon another broad
band of the same flower, but blue, and this color is varied from the
lightest tint to dark blue, and even purple. I had before observed
the same flower possessing different colors in different parts of
the country, and once a great number of liver-colored flowers, which
elsewhere were yellow. Even the color of the birds changed with the
district we passed through; but never before did I see such a marked
change as from yellow to blue, repeated again and again on the same
plain. Another beautiful plant attracted my attention so strongly on
these plains that I dismounted to examine it. To my great delight I
found it to be an old home acquaintance, a species of Drosera, closely
resembling our own sundew ('Drosera Anglia'). The flower-stalk never
attains a height of more than two or three inches, and the leaves are
covered with reddish hairs, each of which has a drop of clammy fluid
at its tip, making t