so great repute for girdles all through Loanda that we cut up
every skin into strips about two inches broad, and sold them for meal
and manioc as we went along. As we came nearer Angola we found them of
less value, as the people there possess cattle themselves.

The village on the Kweelo, at which we spent Sunday, was that of a
civil, lively old man, called Sakandala, who offered no objections to
our progress. We found we should soon enter on the territory of the
Bashinje (Chinge of the Portuguese), who are mixed with another tribe,
named Bangala, which have been at war with the Babindele or Portuguese.
Rains and fever, as usual, helped to impede our progress until we were
put on the path which leads from Cassange and Bihe to Matiamvo, by a
head man named Kamboela. This was a well-beaten footpath, and soon after
entering upon it we met a party of half-caste traders from Bihe, who
confirmed the information we had already got of this path leading
straight to Cassange, through which they had come on their way from Bihe
to Cabango. They kindly presented my men with some tobacco, and marveled
greatly when they found that I had never been able to teach myself to
smoke. On parting with them we came to a trader's grave. This was marked
by a huge cone of sticks placed in the form of the roof of a hut, with
a palisade around it. At an opening on the western side an ugly idol was
placed: several strings of beads and bits of cloth were hung around. We
learned that he had been a half-caste, who had died on his way back from
Matiamvo.

As we were now alone, and sure of being on the way to the abodes of
civilization, we went on briskly.

On the 30th we came to a sudden descent from the high land, indented
by deep, narrow valleys, over which we had lately been traveling. It is
generally so steep that it can only be descended at particular points,
and even there I was obliged to dismount, though so weak that I had to
be led by my companions to prevent my toppling over in walking down. It
was annoying to feel myself so helpless, for I never liked to see a man,
either sick or well, giving in effeminately. Below us lay the valley of
the Quango. If you sit on the spot where Mary Queen of Scots viewed the
battle of Langside, and look down on the vale of Clyde, you may see
in miniature the glorious sight which a much greater and richer valley
presented to our view. It is about a hundred miles broad, clothed with
dark forest, except where t