THE MSIKI MGURU VILLAGE. 



199 



liumara, trerLcling towards tlie Eufii. We tra- 

 versed, a hill-spur of rolling and thorny red 

 ground, to avoid a deep loop in the stream ; we 

 passed a place were rushes and tiger-grass choked 

 the bed, and where the divided waters, apparently 

 issuing from a black jungle and a dark rock, 

 foamed down a steep and jagged incline. We 

 crossed over two bridges, and at 5 p. m. we en- 

 tered a village of Wazegura, distant from Kohode 

 12 miles. Msiki Mguru is a cluster of hay-cock 

 huts touching one another, and built upon an 

 island formed by divers rapid and roaring branches 

 of the river. The headman was sick, but we 

 found a hospitable reception. Uninitiated in the 

 African secret of strewing ashes round the feet 

 of the Kitanda or cartel, we spent our night, 

 although we eschewed the dirty, close huts, 

 battling with ant armies and other little slayers 

 of sleep that shall be nameless. Our hosts, 

 speaking about the Wamasai, expressed great 

 terror, which was justified by the sequel. Scarcely 

 had we left the country, when a band of wild 

 spearmen attacked two neighbouring villages, 

 slaughtered the hapless cultivators, and with pil- 

 lage and poUage drove off the cattle in triumph. 

 Our hosts watched with astonishment the magical 

 process of taking an altitude of Capella, and they 



