Chap. XIX. THE TAMPAN — CABINDA. 383 



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 colour, 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- 

 wards at Tete, fever sets in ; and I was assured by intelligent 

 Portuguese there, that death has sometimes been the result of 

 this fever. 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 afterwards 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 

 militia soldiers as guides, instead of our Cassange corporal, who 

 left us here. About mid-day 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 

 hospitality of the Portuguese was most gratifying, as it was quite 

 unexpected. 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 different 

 points in each district of Angola, as assistants of the head-com- 

 mandant, or chefe. It is situated in a beautiful glen, and sur- 

 rounded by plantations of bananas and manioc. The country 

 was gradually beaming more picturesque, the farther we pro- 

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



