154 SUNDAY WITH QUENDENDE. 



The Balonda, whose custom suggested this digression, are 

 affected more deeply than many others on such occasions, be- 

 cause of their singular superstitions which hold them in dread 

 of the departed. Their funerals are occasions of great expense 

 and great confusion. Great feasts are spread, and during the 

 ceremonies there is kept up a clamor in which all seem striving 

 for mastery. There are loud, piercing cries ; drums are beaten 

 with measured, solemn beats, and if there are guns they are 

 fired. All night long this wild scene continues, and is consid- 

 ered the highest honor possible to be rendered. Indeed, it is 

 more the amount of noise than the perfection of melody which 

 delights the savage. We can hardly dwell on such accounts 

 without deepest sympathy. How sweet are the Christian ideas 

 of death ! How sacred and precious are the spots where we laid 

 our loved ones, hoping, with our eyes on the star of Bethlehem, 

 whose gentle beams were falling on the mound ! How eagerly 

 we should hasten with the precious truths that may be so help- 

 ful and rejoicing to the hearts of heathen ! But if Dr. Living- 

 stone allowed his thoughts to wander so long — there is no 

 question whether old Quendende thought him queer — Sunday 

 afforded good time for the ever-faithful and diligent man of 

 God to present the great teachings of the Bible to his friendly 

 host. But it is almost impossible to gain the credence of the 

 Balonda for the ideas of heaven or hell. They invariably meet 

 all advances on the subject by saying in effect : "We do not go 

 up to God as you do ; we are put into the ground." 



The country was becoming beautiful again ; the valleys and 

 hills were clothed with lovely growth, and supported herds of 

 buffaloes, elands, koodoo and various antelopes; and the little 

 villages which were constantly appearing were cheering indi- 

 cations of industry and happiness. Even in Africa it is inter- 

 esting to observe the gradual improvement in the general 

 appearance of the country as the towns of the great chiefs are 

 approached, just as a corresponding improvement is manifest in 

 the neighborhood of our larger cities. 



It was about the middle of February when Livingstone and 

 his followers crossed the Lotembwa and passed on to the town 

 of Katema. They were not assigned a hut, as would have been 

 the case among the Makololo, or a roof, as would have been the 



