To Sdnga- Tdnga and Back. 115 
The next day was perforce a halt, as had been 
expected; moreover, rains and tornadoes were a 
reasonable pretext for nursing the headache. The 
21 st was also wet and stormy, so Nimrod hid him¬ 
self and was not to be found. Then the baliv ernes 
began. One Asini, a Mpongwe from the Plateau, 
offered to show me a huge gorilla near his village; 
in the afternoon he was confronted with “ Young 
Prince,” and he would have blushed scarlet if he 
could. But he assured me plaintively that he 
must lie to live, and, after all, la prudence des souris 
nest pas celle des chats. Before dark, Forteune ap¬ 
peared, and swore that he had spent the day in 
the forest, he had shot at a gorilla, but the gun 
missed fire—of course he had slept in a snug hut. 
This last determined me to leave Mbata; the 
three Kru-men had returned; one of them was 
stationed in charge of the boat, and next morning 
we set out at 6 a.m. for Nche Mpolo, the head¬ 
quarters of “ Young Prince.” The well-wooded 
land was devoid of fetor, even at that early hour ; 
we passed Ndagola*, a fresh clearing and newly 
built huts, and then we skirted a deep and forested 
depression, upon whose further side lay our 
bourne. It promised sand-flies, the prime pest of 
this region ; a tall amphitheatre of trees on a dune 
to the west excluded the sea-breeze, and north¬ 
wards a swampy hollow was a fine breeding place 
for M. Maringouin. 
