A HUNTER'S TRIUMPH. 349 



bank of the Jchor, and is usually known by the name of its 

 overseer, Eahmet Allah, who occupies it with about ten to 

 fifteen armed slaves. Just at the entrance to his zeriba were 

 several neatly carved poles, each separating into two branches, 

 which were tipped with buffalo horns. 



In the Beli district it is customary, as soon as a young man 

 has killed a buffalo, an elephant, a lion, or a leopard, for his 

 nearest relations to give a dance, at which the mother of the 

 successful hunter dances in a perfectly nude condition. " I 

 gave birth to this hunter," she cries to her audience, whilst 

 her son, stretching forth his right arm, seems to impress 

 upon the spectators that it is not advisable to come too near 

 it. The people then erect a post before the village, and 

 decorate it with the skull or horns of the slain animal, so 

 that every stranger visiting the place may ask the name of 

 the brave hunter. In all the villages are carved poles on 

 which to hang the great drum, and withered trees upon which 

 trophies of the chase, such as the skulls of antelopes, are 

 fastened ; also bow-shaped traps used in hunting game. 



This station is celebrated for the splendid ice-cold water 

 which is found in the hhor. A lion had done us the favour 

 of killing a buffalo and then permitting itself to be driven off, 

 and an elephant had been killed in the morning, so that there 

 was meat for every one. When we left, however, next morn- 

 ing all that remained of the buffalo was its splintered bones. 



After passing through the corn-fields of Lobalede, and 

 then through brushwood and over a savannah, we crossed 

 several small swampy streams which flow into the Chongo, 

 and then rested in an Anogeissus wood in the district of Lori. 

 We next passed through deserted fields and large plantations 

 of Hibiscus sabdariffa, as far as a broad swamp named Mabollo, 

 upon the other side of which, under the shade of high tama- 

 rinds, was a well containing very good water. Our guides, 

 however, had arranged to halt at the Dokurru wells, which 

 contain bad water, and were disappointed at being compelled 

 to march farther on in the blazing sun, although we reached 

 the Lulunyi swamp shortly after midday, and halted there. A 

 low chain of hills running from east to south lay before us, 

 shutting out all view. Late at night we received a visit from 



