324 
SINGING BIRDS. 
Chap. XYII. 
meat as an earnest of their sincerity, formed many friendships 
with the people of Xatema. We went about four or five miles 
in a N.N.W. direction, then two in a westerly one, and came 
round the small end of Lake Dilolo. It seemed, as far as we 
could at this time discern, to be like a river a quarter of a mile 
wide. It is abundantly supplied with fish and hippopotami; the 
broad part, which we did not this time see, is about three miles 
wide, and the lake is almost seven or eight long. If it be 
thought strange that I did not go a few miles to see the broad 
part, wliich, according to Katema, had never been visited by 
any of the traders, it must be remembered that in consequence 
of fever I had eaten nothing for two entire days, and, instead of 
sleep, the whole of the nights were employed in incessant drink¬ 
ing of water, and I was now so glad to get on in the journey 
and see some of my fellow fever-patients crawling along, that I 
could not brook the delay, which astronomical observations for 
accurately determining the geographical position of this most 
interesting spot, would have occasioned. 
We observed among the people of Katema a love for singing- 
birds. One pretty little songster, named cabazo,” a species of 
canary, is kept in very neatly made cages, having traps on the 
top to entice its still free companions. On asking why they 
kept them in confinement, ‘‘Because they sing sweetly,” was 
the answer. They feed them on the lotsa (Pennisetum typlioi- 
deum), of which great quantities are cultivated as food for man, 
and these canaries plague the gardeners here, very much in the 
same way as our sparrows do at home. 
I was pleased to hear the long-forgotten cry of alarm of the 
canaries in the woods, and observed one warbling forth its song, 
and keeping in motion from side to side, as these birds do in the 
cage. We saw also tame pigeons ; and the Barotse, who always 
take care to exalt Santuru, reminded us that this chief had many 
doves, and kept canaries which had reddish heads when the birds 
attained maturity. Those we now see have the real canary 
colour on the breast with a tinge of green; the back, yellowish 
green, with darker longitudinal bands meeting in the centre; a 
narrow dark band passes from the bill over the eye and back to 
the bill again. 
The birds of song here set up quite a merry chorus in the 
