into deep ditches, wherein we found ourselves sometimes up to the waist in water, and sometimes up to the throat.  Urgent necessity impelled us onward, lest we might have to camp at one of these villages until the end of the monsoon rains; so we kept on, over marshy bottoms, up to the knees in mire, under jungly tunnels dripping with wet, then into sloughs arm-pit deep.  Every channel seemed filled to overflowing, yet down the rain poured, beating the surface of the river into yellowish foam, pelting us until we were almost breathless.  Half a day’s battling against such difficulties brought us, after crossing the river, once again to the dismal village of Mvumi.

We passed the night fighting swarms of black and voracious mosquitoes, and in heroic endeavours to win repose in sleep, in which we were partly successful, owing to the utter weariness of our bodies.

On the 13th we struck out of the village of Mvumi.  It had rained the whole night, and the morning brought no cessation.  Mile after mile we traversed, over fields covered by the inundation, until we came to a branch river-side once again, where the river was narrow, and too deep to ford in the middle.  We proceeded to cut a tree down, and so contrived that it should fall right across the stream.  Over this fallen tree the men, bestriding it, cautiously moved before them their bales and boxes; but one young fellow, Rojab—­through over-zeal, or in sheer madness—­took up the Doctor’s box which contained his letters and Journal of his discoveries on his head, and started into the river.  I had been the first to arrive on the opposite bank, in order to superintend the crossing; when I caught sight of this man walking in the river with the most precious box of all on his head.  Suddenly he fell into a deep hole, and the man and box went almost out of sight, while I was in an agony at the fate which threatened the despatches.  Fortunately, he recovered himself and stood up, while I shouted to him, with a loaded revolver pointed at his head, “Look out!  Drop that bog, and I’ll shoot you.”

All the men halted in their work while they gazed at their comrade who was thus imperilled by bullet and flood.  The man himself seemed to regard the pistol with the greatest awe, and after a few desperate efforts succeeded in getting the box safely ashore.  As the articles within were not damaged, Rojab escaped punishment, with a caution not to touch the bog again on any account, and it was transferred to the keeping of the sure-footed and perfect pagazi, Maganga.

From this stream, in about an hour, we came to the main river, but one look at its wild waters was enough.  We worked hard to construct a raft, but after cutting down four trees and lashing the green logs together, and pushing them into the whirling current, we saw them sink like lead.  We then tied together all the strong rope in our possession, and made a line 180 feet long, with one end of which tied round his