THE HALT AT YOMBO. 



387 



prospect, a fine open country, with well-wooded hills 

 rolling into blue distance on either hand. A two 

 hours' ride placed me at Yombo, a new and picturesque 

 village of circular tents, surrounded by plantains and 

 wild fruit-trees. The Mkuba bears an edible red plum, 

 which, though scanty of flesh, as usual, where man's 

 care is wanting, was found by no means unpalatable. 

 The Metrongoma produces a chocolate-coloured fruit, 

 about the size of a cherry : it is eaten, but it lacks the 

 grateful acid of the Mkuba. The gigantic Palmyra or 

 Borassus, which failed in the barren platform of Ugogo, 

 here re-appears, and hence extends to the Tanganyika 

 Lake. 



I halted two days at Yombo : the situation was low 

 and unhealthy, and provisions were procurable in 

 homoeopathic quantities. My only amusement there 

 was to watch the softer part of the population. At 

 eventide, when the labours of the day were past and 

 done, the villagers came home in a body, laden with 

 their implements of cultivation, and singing a kind of 

 u dulce domum," in a simple and pleasing recitative. 

 The sunset hour, in the " Land of the Moon," is 

 replete with enjoyments. The sweet and balmy breeze 

 floats in waves, like the draught of a fan ; the sky is 

 softly and serenely blue ; the fleecy clouds, stationary in 

 the upper firmament, are robed in purple and gold, and 

 the beautiful blush, crimsoning the west, is reflected 

 by all the features of earth. At this time, all is life. 

 The vulture soars with silent flight, high in the blue 

 expanse ; the small birds preen themselves for the night, 

 and sing their evening hymns ; the antelopes prepare to 

 couch in the bush ; the cattle and flocks frisk and 

 gamble, whilst driven from their pastures; and the 

 people busy themselves with the simple pleasures that 



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