A Thousand Miles in a Machilla 



We had passed through much attractive looking 

 game country, but only saw a few puku and reed- 

 buck; larger game should have been there, but 

 alas! no one knew where it had gone. 



The chief of the village was sent for, but he 

 was apparently away. Two other men of the 

 Alala tribe, however, appeared to represent him. 

 These men were neatly dressed, wearing European 

 shirts over their native clothes; they had nice 

 manners, and were, I should say, good specimens 

 of the Alala tribe. 



They had recently returned from the mines, and 

 had travelled from Mkushi to their village by the 

 direct road — information we were glad to get as 

 showing that there was in fact a road. They 

 mentioned several villages that we should pass, and 

 they also told us correctly the names of the rivers 

 that run into the left bank of the Luambwa; but 

 neither of them knew the name, nor would allow 

 that there was a river running into the Luambwa 

 on the right bank. This was puzzling, as the map 

 showed one about a day's march to the southward 

 of their village. Curiously enough, also, they could 

 give us no information as to the Wulangulu Hills, 

 whose name was quite unknown to them; this was 

 annoying, as we were very anxious to find out the 

 amount of difficulty there would be in crossing these 

 mountains. We certainly anticipated a climb, if not 

 as bad as that from Mua to the Dedza plateau, at 

 any rate much the same as we had experienced in 

 our rise from the Luangwa valley to the Muchinga 

 plateau. To the best of my recollection, it was not 



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