to it. We were very much pleased
with Katema; and next day he presented us with a cow, that we might
enjoy the abundant supplies of meal he had given with good animal food.
He then departed for the hunting-ground, after assuring me that the
town and every thing in it were mine, and that his factotum, Shakatwala,
would remain and attend to every want, and also conduct us to the Leeba.

On attempting to slaughter the cow Katema had given, we found the herd
as wild as buffaloes; and one of my men having only wounded it, they
fled many miles into the forest, and were with great difficulty brought
back. Even the herdsman was afraid to go near them. The majority of them
were white, and they were all beautiful animals. After hunting it for
two days it was dispatched at last by another ball. Here we saw a flock
of jackdaws, a rare sight in Londa, busy with the grubs in the valley,
which are eaten by the people too.

Leaving Katema's town on the 19th, and proceeding four miles to the
eastward, we forded the southern branch of Lake Dilolo. We found it a
mile and a quarter broad; and, as it flows into the Lotembwa, the lake
would seem to be a drain of the surrounding flats, and to partake of the
character of a fountain. The ford was waist-deep, and very difficult,
from the masses of arum and rushes through which we waded. Going to the
eastward about three miles, we came to the Southern Lotembwa itself,
running in a valley two miles broad. It is here eighty or ninety
yards wide, and contains numerous islands covered with dense sylvan
vegetation. In the rainy season the valley is flooded, and as the
waters dry up great multitudes of fish are caught. This happens very
extensively over the country, and fishing-weirs are met with every
where. A species of small fish, about the size of the minnow, is caught
in bagfuls and dried in the sun. The taste is a pungent aromatic bitter,
and it was partaken of freely by my people, although they had never met
with it before. On many of the paths which had been flooded a nasty sort
of slime of decayed vegetable matter is left behind, and much sickness
prevails during the drying up of the water. We did not find our friend
Mozinkwa at his pleasant home on the Lokaloeje; his wife was dead,
and he had removed elsewhere. He followed us some distance, but our
reappearance seemed to stir up his sorrows. We found the pontoon at
the village in which we left it. It had been carefully preserved, but a
mous