In the afternoon we came to another stream, nyuana Loke (or child of Loke), with a bridge over it.  The men had to swim off to each end of the bridge, and when on it were breast deep; some preferred holding on by the tails of the oxen the whole way across.  I intended to do this too; but, riding to the deep part, before I could dismount and seize the helm the ox dashed off with his companions, and his body sank so deep that I failed in my attempt even to catch the blanket belt, and if I pulled the bridle the ox seemed as if he would come backward upon me, so I struck out for the opposite bank alone.  My poor fellows were dreadfully alarmed when they saw me parted from the cattle, and about twenty of them made a simultaneous rush into the water for my rescue, and just as I reached the opposite bank one seized my arm, and another threw his around my body.  When I stood up, it was most gratifying to see them all struggling toward me.  Some had leaped off the bridge, and allowed their cloaks to float down the stream.  Part of my goods, abandoned in the hurry, were brought up from the bottom after I was safe.  Great was the pleasure expressed when they found that I could swim, like themselves, without the aid of a tail, and I did and do feel grateful to these poor heathens for the promptitude with which they dashed in to save, as they thought, my life.  I found my clothes cumbersome in the water; they could swim quicker from being naked.  They swim like dogs, not frog-fashion, as we do.

In the evening we crossed the small rivulet Lozeze, and came to some villages of the Kasabi, from whom we got some manioc in exchange for beads.  They tried to frighten us by telling of the deep rivers we should have to cross in our way.  I was drying my clothes by turning myself round and round before the fire.  My men laughed at the idea of being frightened by rivers.  “We can all swim:  who carried the white man across the river but himself?” I felt proud of their praise.

Saturday, 4th march.  Came to the outskirts of the territory of the Chiboque.  We crossed the Konde and Kaluze rivulets.  The former is a deep, small stream with a bridge, the latter insignificant; the valleys in which these rivulets run are beautifully fertile.  My companions are continually lamenting over the uncultivated vales in such words as these:  “What a fine country for cattle!  My heart is sore to see such fruitful valleys for corn lying waste.”  At the time these words were put down I had come to the belief that the reason why the inhabitants of this fine country possess no herds of cattle was owing to the despotic sway of their chiefs, and that the common people would not be allowed to keep any domestic animals, even supposing they could acquire them; but on musing on the subject since, I have been led to the conjecture that the rich, fertile country of Londa must formerly have been infested by the tsetse, but that, as the people killed off the game on which, in the absence