ae 2 
MSUATA. , 199 
mid-day battles and convulsions, terminating in victory 
for the luminary, who throughout the afternoon of his 
reign ruled in peace. Now, as he declines, his enemies 
revive, and his sinking is marked with bloody, troublous 
signs in the west. The twilight that succeeds his immo- ~ 
lation is some half-hour in length,* and the sky slowly 
changes from fiery red to orange and pale green. ‘The 
expanse of river sympathetically follows these dying 
changes, and the whole scene is vast and mystic, and one 
to sit and dream over until dusky night sets in with its 
dismal obscurity. Then it is pleasant to turn one’s head 
away from the riverward aspect and greet the glow of 
cheery lamplight which shines out from the open door of 
our dining-room. The sun is dead; long live the lamp! 
Let us to our dinner. The cook comes in with the great 
tureen of soup, staggering under its weight; and having 
changed our outgoing clothes, and brightened up our 
somewhat dowdy persons, we sit down to assist at that 
almost religious ceremony of the white man. One of the 
courses deserves notice—the plantain-eater I shot this 
morning is roasted on a spit and served up with fried 
kikwanga. It is delicious, and its large breast rivals a 
woodcock’s in delicacy. 
When the meal is over, we sit and discuss the events of 
the day and form plans for the morrow. About ten we 
retire to our respective rooms, and soon, tucked up within 
mosquito curtains, dreams of the coming night begin to 
interweave themselves with the occurrences of the day... . 
Bang, bang, bang!—I start up—am I still dreaming, or 
did I really hear the guns go off? Whilst I am still in 
doubt, Faraji comes in to say the leopard is shot. Tant 
mieux ! we will skin him in the morning; and, sinking 
once more into my little bed, I fall into a sleep which 
terminates another day at Msuata. 
* The shortness of equatorial twilights is much exaggerated; night 
never sets in until half-an-hour after sunset. 
