A RAINY DAY. 51 



midday rest under a group of trees, and near little pools of 

 water. A bush with shining dark green camellia-like leaves 

 and white blossoms, resembling a passion-flower, the stamens 

 of which were of a yellowish white colour, and the pistils red 

 and yellow, was quite new to me. The red berries are eaten 

 by children. 



My companion, Kapempe, a Matongali of Kabrega's, enter- 

 tained me by mimicking in a most amusing way the gestures 

 of the porters who found their burdens too heavy. These people 

 express astonishment in a way quite new to me — a rapid rais- 

 ing of the closed fists to the crown of the head, from which 

 they are drawn energetically to the forehead. The rumbling of 

 thunder in the distance and dark clouds overhead warned us 

 to start, but we were hardly on our way, when the rain poured 

 down in torrents. Every moment a porter would stop to cover 

 himself with a banana-leaf, or to take off the ox-hide which 

 serves him for a dress, in order to protect it from the rain, 

 which renders it hard. In this way the whole column was 

 brought to a standstill — a very pleasant episode in such rain 

 as this, which poured in at one's collar and out at one's boots ! 

 Then, in great haste, we again started forward, through 

 bananas and whorled eriodendrons, till, after a march of J\ 

 hours, we reached Kisiiga, where we were obliged to rest the 

 next day to dry our baggage. 



When at last we were ready to start, one of the soldiers 

 who accompanied me was taken ill, I expect, from fear of the 

 dangers he apprehended on the journey. I had therefore but 

 one soldier left to take charge of my horse, and my two 

 servants, boys between ten and twelve years of age — an 

 imposing escort ! Being put on my guard by Baker's account 

 of Kabrega's talent for begging, I left everything that was 

 not absolutely indispensable, even my gun, in Kisiiga ; and 

 then we started in the direction of Londu, along the road 

 we had previously trodden, through tall grass and numerous 

 banana groves, in which reddish-yellow passion-flowers threw 

 their tendrils across our path. The porters marched in 

 total silence, a contrast to the noisy Waganda ; no drum 

 was carried with us. Our halts became frequent, and the 

 porters seemed to be very hungry, as on every possible 



