THE TAMPAN.— CABINDA. 415 



of a pin's head to that of a pea, and is common in all the native 

 huts in this country. It sucks the blood until quite full, and is 

 then of a dark blue color, and its skin so tough and yielding that 

 it is impossible to burst it by any amount of squeezing with the 

 fingers. I had felt the effects of *its bite in former years, and 

 eschewed all native huts ever after ; but as I was here again 

 assailed in a European house, I shall detail the effects of the bite. 

 These are a tingling sensation of mingled pain and itching, 

 which commences ascending the limb until the poison imbibed 

 reaches the abdomen, where it soon causes violent vomiting and 

 purging. "Where these effects do not follow, as we found after- 

 ward at Tete, fever sets in ; and I was assured by intelligent Por- 

 tuguese there that death has sometimes been the result of this fe- 

 ver. The anxiety my friends at Tete manifested to keep my 

 men out of the reach of the tampans of the village made it evident 

 that they had seen cause to dread this insignificant insect. The 

 only inconvenience I afterward suffered from this bite was the 

 continuance of the tingling sensation in the point bitten for about 

 a week. 



May 12th. As we were about to start this morning, the com- 

 mandant, Senhor Arsenio, provided bread and meat most bounti- 

 fully for my use on the way to the next station, and sent two mi- 

 litia soldiers as guides, instead of our Cassange corporal, who left 

 us here. About midday we asked for shelter from the sun in the 

 house of Senhor Mellot, at Zangu, and, though I was unable to sit 

 and engage in conversation, I found, on rising from his couch, 

 that he had at once proceeded to cook a fowl for my use ; and at 

 parting he gave me a glass of wine, which prevented the violent 

 fit of shivering I expected that afternoon. The universal hospi- 

 tality of the Portuguese was most gratifying, as it was quite un- 

 expected ; and even now, as I copy my journal, I remember it all 

 with a glow of gratitude. 



We spent Sunday, the 14th of May, at Cabinda, which is one 

 of the stations of the sub-commandants, who are placed at differ- 

 ent points in each district of Angola as assistants of the head- 

 commandant, or chefe. It is situated in a beautiful glen, and 

 surrounded by plantations of bananas and manioc. The country 

 was gradually becoming more picturesque the farther we pro- 

 ceeded west. The ranges of lofty blue mountains of Libollo, 



