THE LUKANZI. 643 



from an absurd rumour that the strangers were in search of slaves, they were 

 unable to get any directions from them. Filled with fear, the guides kept on 

 trying to work away to the eastward, towards the village of Mona, Kasanga's 

 father. Cameron's patience was at length exhausted, and one day, after hav- 

 ing lost the track three times he took the bull by the horns, and walked on 

 by himself, leaving the guides and caravan to follow him or not as they liked ; 

 of course he was pretty sure that they would not leave him altogether, but 

 they straggled and wandered all over the country. 



That night they camped in a deserted village, near a large branch of the 

 Lomami, called the Lukanzi, the guides persisting that there were no means 

 of crossing it. On asking where the natives of the village were gone to, he 

 was told that they had crossed the river ; he was therefore sure that there 

 must be some way to get over to the other side, and sent the guides along a 

 path to find if it led to a bridge. After having been absent some time, they 

 returned and reported that the path came to an end near the river, leading 

 only to a watering-place. He did not believe this, so went down the path 

 himself, and, four or five hundred yards from the camp, he found a large fish- 

 ing-weir bridge. The next morning, after a great deal of trouble, he got the 

 men across ; they were all in a terrible fright, as the guides had been alarm- 

 ing them all night with hobgoblin stories about the natives beyond the river. 

 As soon as the whole party had crossed, Cameron took the lead again, and 

 about a mile from the river, whilst he was passing through a strip of jungle, 

 a native lurking near shot at him ; but the arrow glanced off a leathern coat 

 he was wearing at the time without penetrating it. He saw the fellow run- 

 ning off, and, dropping his rifle, he ran him down, and gave him a regular 

 good thrashing. 



In a short time a company of natives appeared on the path in front of 

 them, and wanted to prevent them proceeding any further ; but after half an 

 hour's palaver, which ended in the traveller giving them a few beads, they 

 became very good friends, and went on to the village of a chief four miles 

 off, escorted by an excited mob, shouting, yelling, and playing on large 

 wooden horns, out of which they managed to get the most hideous noises. 

 It was said here that Kwarumba, a chief whose village lay directly on the 

 road, was only one march distant. In the expectation of getting some in- 

 formation from him about the Portuguese, Cameron was anxious to proceed 

 to meet him at once; but this somehow offended the pride of Mona Kasanga, 

 who succeeded in causing a whole day's delay. Next morning, however, 

 they went on their road, and after again crossing the Lukanzi by another 

 fishing-weir bridge, arrived in the afternoon at Kwarumba's first village, 

 which they found to be very large, and well populated. Here they halted, 

 and immediately large crowds gathered to look at the white man. The sight 

 was one they had never witnessed before, and it seemed to fill them with the 



