then he had fed on grass in seed only; this seed contains
so much farinaceous matter that the natives collect it for their own
food.

This part of the country abounds in ant-hills. In the open parts they
are studded over the surface exactly as haycocks are in harvest, or
heaps of manure in spring, rather disfiguring the landscape. In the
woods they are as large as round haystacks, 40 or 50 feet in diameter
at the base, and at least 20 feet high. These are more fertile than the
rest of the land, and here they are the chief garden-ground for maize,
pumpkins, and tobacco.

When we had passed the outskirting villages, which alone consider
themselves in a state of war with the Makololo, we found the Batoka, or
Batonga, as they here call themselves, quite friendly. Great numbers of
them came from all the surrounding villages with presents of maize and
masuka, and expressed great joy at the first appearance of a white man,
and harbinger of peace. The women clothe themselves better than the
Balonda, but the men go 'in puris naturalibus'. They walk about without
the smallest sense of shame. They have even lost the tradition of the
"fig-leaf". I asked a fine, large-bodied old man if he did not think
it would be better to adopt a little covering. He looked with a pitying
leer, and laughed with surprise at my thinking him at all indecent; he
evidently considered himself above such weak superstition. I told them
that, on my return, I should have my family with me, and no one must
come near us in that state. "What shall we put on? we have no clothing."
It was considered a good joke when I told them that, if they had nothing
else, they must put on a bunch of grass.

The farther we advanced, the more we found the country swarming with
inhabitants. Great numbers came to see the white man, a sight they had
never beheld before. They always brought presents of maize and masuka.
Their mode of salutation is quite singular. They throw themselves on
their backs on the ground, and, rolling from side to side, slap the
outside of their thighs as expressions of thankfulness and welcome,
uttering the words "Kina bomba." This method of salutation was to me
very disagreeable, and I never could get reconciled to it. I called out,
"Stop, stop; I don't want that;" but they, imagining I was dissatisfied,
only tumbled about more furiously, and slapped their thighs with greater
vigor. The men being totally unclothed, this performance imparted to my
mind