To Sdnga-Tdnga and Back. 125 
burned bright in a cloudless sky, whilst in the east 
and west distant banks of purple mist coloured the 
liquid plain with a cool green-blue, a celadon tint 
that reposed the eye and the brain. The porpoise 
raised in sport his dark, glistening back to the light 
of day, and plunged into the cool depths as if 
playing off the “amate sponde” of the Mediter¬ 
ranean ; and sandpipers and curlews, the latter wild 
as ever, paced the smooth, pure floor. The shore¬ 
line was backed by a dark vegetable wall, here and 
there broken and fronted by single trees, white 
mangroves tightly corded down, and raised on 
stilted roots high above the tide. Between wood 
and wave lay powdered sandstone of lively yellow, 
mixed with bright white quartz and debris of pink 
shells. Upon the classic shores of Greece I should 
have thought of Poseidon and the Nereids; but 
the lovely scene was in unromantic Africa, which 
breeds no such visions of 
“ The fair humanities of old religion.” 
Resuming our road, we passed the ruins of an 
“ Olako,” the khambi of East Africa, a temporary 
encampment, whose few poles were still standing 
under a shady tree. We then came upon a block¬ 
aded lagoon; the sea-water had been imprisoned 
by a high bank which the waves had washed up, 
and it will presently be released by storms from 
the south-west. Near the water, even at half-ebb, 
