From the village of Cassange we have a good view of the surrounding country:  it is a gently undulating plain, covered with grass and patches of forest.  The western edge of the Quango valley appears, about twenty miles off, as if it were a range of lofty mountains, and passes by the name of Tala Mungongo, “Behold the Range”.  In the old Portuguese map, to which I had been trusting in planning my route, it is indicated as Talla Mugongo, or “Castle of Rocks!” and the Coanza is put down as rising therefrom; but here I was assured that the Coanza had its source near Bihe, far to the southwest of this, and we should not see that river till we came near Pungo Andonga.  It is somewhat remarkable that more accurate information about this country has not been published.  Captain Neves and others had a correct idea of the courses of the rivers, and communicated their knowledge freely; yet about this time maps were sent to Europe from Angola representing the Quango and Coanza as the same river, and Cassange placed about one hundred miles from its true position.  The frequent recurrence of the same name has probably helped to increase the confusion.  I have crossed several Quangos, but all insignificant, except that which drains this valley.  The repetition of the favorite names of chiefs, as Catende, is also perplexing, as one Catende may be mistaken for another.  To avoid this confusion as much as possible, I have refrained from introducing many names.  Numerous villages are studded all over the valley; but these possess no permanence, and many more existed previous to the Portuguese expedition of 1850 to punish the Bangala.

This valley, as I have before remarked, is all fertile in the extreme.  My men could never cease admiring its capability for raising their corn (’Holcus sorghum’), and despising the comparatively limited cultivation of the inhabitants.  The Portuguese informed me that no manure is ever needed, but that, the more the ground is tilled, the better it yields.  Virgin soil does not give such a heavy crop as an old garden, and, judging from the size of the maize and manioc in the latter, I can readily believe the statement.  Cattle do well, too.  Viewing the valley as a whole, it may be said that its agricultural and pastoral riches are lying waste.  Both the Portuguese and their descendants turn their attention almost exclusively to trade in wax and ivory, and though the country would yield any amount of corn and dairy produce, the native Portuguese live chiefly on manioc, and the Europeans purchase their flour, bread, butter, and cheese from the Americans.