202 



PASUNGA. 



were not a little ridiculous. Acquaintances stood 

 afar off, as if in fear of each other, and nosed 

 forth ' Kua-heri,' and protracted hans and huns, 

 until they had reKeved their minds. None, even 

 the women, refused to greet us, and at times 

 Yambo — the state ? — was uttered simultaneously 

 by a score of sable hps. Having duly stared and 

 been stared at, we unloaded for rest about 9.30 

 A. M., under a spreading tree, near the large, 

 double-fenced village of Pasunga, belonging to 

 one of Sultan Kimwere's multitudinous sons. 

 Again clouds obscured the air, gathering thick 

 upon the mountain-tops, whence came the mut- 

 terings of thunder from afar. 



Presently the pleasant coolness drew from 

 the Baloch cries of Safar ! Safar ! — let us march ! 

 At 1 p. M. we resumed our way, and presently 

 we passed, on our left hand, a tank of mire and 

 water, thinly sprinkled with paddy -birds, sand- 

 pipers, and Egyptian geese — all exceedingly wild. 

 Hornbills screamed from the neighbouring trees, 

 and on the mud my companion shot a specimen of 

 the gorgeous crested crane, whose back feathers 

 have made bonnets fine. After an hour's march 

 we skirted a village where the people peremptorily 

 commanded us to halt. We attributed this an- 

 noyance to Wazira, who was forthwith visited 



