accompany other large animals, roared about us, but, as it was moonlight, there was no danger.  In the evening, while standing on a mass of granite, one began to roar at me, though it was still light.  The temperature was pleasant, as the rains, though not universal, had fallen in many places.  It was very cloudy, preventing observations.  The temperature at 6 A.M. was 70 Deg., at midday 90 Deg., in the evening 84 Deg.  This is very pleasant on the high lands, with but little moisture in the air.

The different rocks to the westward of Kaonka’s, talcose gneiss and white mica schist, generally dip toward the west, but at Kaonka’s, large rounded masses of granite, containing black mica, began to appear.  The outer rind of it inclines to peel off, and large crystals project on the exposed surface.

In passing through some parts where a good shower of rain has fallen, the stridulous piercing notes of the cicadae are perfectly deafening; a drab-colored cricket joins the chorus with a sharp sound, which has as little modulation as the drone of a Scottish bagpipe.  I could not conceive how so small a thing could raise such a sound; it seemed to make the ground over it thrill.  When cicadae, crickets, and frogs unite, their music may be heard at the distance of a quarter of a mile.

A tree attracted my attention as new, the leaves being like those of an acacia, but the ends of the branches from which they grew resembled closely oblong fir-cones.  The corn-poppy was abundant, and many of the trees, flowering bulbs, and plants were identical with those in Pungo Andongo.  A flower as white as the snowdrop now begins to appear, and farther on it spots the whole sward with its beautiful pure white.  A fresh crop appears every morning, and if the day is cloudy they do not expand till the afternoon.  In an hour or so they droop and die.  They are named by the natives, from their shape, “Tlaku ea pitse”, hoof of zebra.  I carried several of the somewhat bulbous roots of this pretty flower till I reached the Mauritius.

On the 30th we crossed the River Kalomo, which is about 50 yards broad, and is the only stream that never dries up on this ridge.  The current is rapid, and its course is toward the south, as it joins the Zambesi at some distance below the falls.  The Unguesi and Lekone, with their feeders, flow westward, this river to the south, and all those to which we are about to come take an easterly direction.  We were thus at the apex of the ridge, and found that, as water boiled at 202 Deg., our altitude above the level of the sea was over 5000 feet.  Here the granite crops out again in great rounded masses which change the dip of the gneiss and mica schist rocks from the westward to the eastward.  In crossing the western ridge I mentioned the clay shale or keele formation, a section of which we have in the valley of the Quango:  the strata there lie nearly horizontal, but on this ridge the granite seems to have been the