312 FERTILE COUNTRY— OMNIVOROUS FISH. Chap. XVII. 



saw. It had about forty yards of deep fast-flowing water, but 

 probably not more than half that amount in the dry season. 

 Besides these, we crossed numerous feeders in our N.N.W. 

 course, and, there being no canoes, got frequently wet in the 

 course of the day. The oxen in some places had their heads 

 only above water, and the stream flowing over their backs wetted 

 our blankets, which we used as saddles. The arm-pit was the 

 only safe spot for carrying the watch, for there it was preserved 

 from rains above and waters below. The men on foot crossed 

 these gullies holding up their burdens at arms' length. 



The Lokalueje winds from north-east to south-west into the 

 Leeba. The country adjacent to its banks is extremely fine and 

 fertile, with here and there patches of forest or clumps of mag- 

 nificent trees. The villagers through whose gardens we passed, 

 continue to sow and reap all the year round. The grains, as 

 maize, lotsa (Pennisetum typhoideum), lokesh or millet, are to 

 be seen at all stages of their growth — some just ripe, while at 

 this time the Makololo crops are not half grown. My com- 

 panions, who have a good idea of the different qualities of soils, 

 expressed the greatest admiration of the agricultural capabilities 

 of the whole of Londa, and here they were loud in their praises 

 of the pasturage. They have an accurate idea of the varieties 

 of grasses best adapted for different kinds of stock, and lament 

 because here there are no cows to feed off the rich green crop, 

 which at this time imparts special beauty to the landscape. 



Great numbers of the omnivorous feeding fish, (xlanis siluris, 

 or mosala, spread themselves over the flooded plains, and, as the 

 waters retire, try to find their way back again to the rivers. 

 The Balonda make earthen dykes and hedges across the outlets 

 of the retreating waters, leaving only small spaces through 

 which the chief part of the water flows. In these open spaces 

 they plant creels, similar in shape to our own, into which the 

 fish can enter, but cannot return. They secure large quantities 

 of fish in this way, which, when smoke-dried, make a good relish 

 for their otherwise insipid food. They use also a weir of mats 

 made of reeds sewed together, with but half an inch between 

 each. Open spaces are left for the insertion of the creels as 

 before. 



In still water, a fish-trap is employed of the same shape and 



