FLOWERS.— SUNDEW. 509 



other water-birds, flying over the spots not yet dried up ; and 

 occasionally wild ducks, but these only in numbers sufficient to 

 remind us that we were approaching the Zambesi, where every 

 water-fowl has a home. 



"While passing across these interminable-looking plains, the eye 

 rests with pleasure on a small flower, which exists in such num- 

 bers as to give its own hue to the ground. One broad band of 

 yellow stretches across our path. On looking at the flowers which 

 formed this golden carpet, we saw every variety of that color, from 

 the palest lemon. to the richest orange. Crossing a hundred yards 

 of this, we came upon another broad band of the same flower, but 

 blue, and this color is varied from the lightest tint to dark blue, 

 and even purple. I had before observed the same flower possess- 

 ing different colors in different parts of the country, and once 

 a great number of liver-colored flowers, which elsewhere were yel- 

 low. Even the color of the birds changed with the district we 

 passed through ; but never before did I see such a marked change 

 as from yellow to blue, repeated again and again on the same 

 plain. Another beautiful plant attracted my attention so strong- 

 ly on these plains that I dismounted to examine it. To my great 

 delight I found it to be an old home acquaintance, a species of 

 Drosera, closely resembling our own sundew (Drosera Anglia). 

 The flower-stalk never attains a height of more than two or three 

 inches, and the leaves are covered with reddish hairs, each of 

 which has a drop of clammy fluid at its tip, making the whole ap- 

 pear as if spangled over with small diamonds. I noticed it first 

 in the morning, and imagined the appearance was caused by the 

 sun shining on drops of dew ; but, as it continued to maintain its 

 brilliancy during the heat of the day, I proceeded to investigate 

 the cause of its beauty, and found that the points of the hairs ex- 

 uded pure liquid, in, apparently, capsules of clear, glutinous mat- 

 ter. They were thus like dewdrops preserved from evaporation. 

 The clammy fluid is intended to entrap insects, which, dying on 

 the leaf, probably yield nutriment to the plant. 



During our second day on this extensive plain I suffered from 

 my twenty-seventh attack of fever, at a part where no surface- 

 water was to be found. We never thought it necessary to carry 

 water with us in this region ; and now, when I was quite unable 

 to move on, my men soon found water to allay my burning thirst 



