OUT INTO THE ATLANTIC. 
537 
9 a.m. near Banza Mbuko. Haggard, woe-begone 
invalids,. with bloated faces, but terribly angular bodies, 
we sought a quiet spot a mile beyond the outermost 
village of the settlement. Mbincla’s wooded rido-e was 
in view, and IkiSgus bearded summits were fast 
receding into distance and obscurity. Banza Mbuko 
seemed prosperous ; the inhabitants appeared to be well 
fed, but, as though we were denizens of another world, 
nothing of warm sympathy could I detect in the face 
of any one of all those that gazed on us. Ah ! in what 
part of all the Japhetic world would such a distressed 
and woeful band as we were then have been regarded 
with such hard, steel-cold eyes ? Yet not one word of 
MBINDA CEMETERY. 
reproach issued from the starving people ; they threw 
themselves upon the ground with an indifference 
begotten of despair and misery. They did not fret, 
nor bewail aloud the tortures of famine, nor vent the 
anguish of their pinched bowels in cries, but with stony 
resignation surrendered themselves to rest, under the 
scant shade of some dwarf acacia or sparse bush. Now 
and then I caught the wail of an infant, and the thin 
voice of a starving mother, or the petulant remonstrance 
of an older child ; but the adults remained still and 
apparently lifeless, each contracted within the exclusive- 
ness of individual suffering. The youths, companions 
of Uledi, and the chiefs, sat in whispering groups, 
