To the Mbika . 
233 
to two old trunks. The night was a succession 
of violent tornadoes, and during one of the most 
outrageous the upper half of a “ triste lignum/’ 
falling alongside of and grazing my hammock, 
awoke me with its crash. 
Next morning, when the rain had somewhat 
abated, I set out, by a path whose makers were 
probably the ape and the squirrel-hunter, in the 
direction of a rise, which the people called Mbika 
—The hill. After a total of some two miles 
and a half, we found a clearing upon the 
summit, but, although I climbed up a tree, the 
bush was dense enough to conceal most of the 
surroundings. According to the Fa n, the Nkomo 
rises on the seaward or western face of this Mbika, 
whilst the Mbokwe, springing from its eastern 
counterslope, runs south-west of the Massif and 
joins the former. The one-tree hill known as 
“ Tern” appeared a little to the north of west: 
to the north-east we could see a river-fork, but 
none knew its name. 
Our return was enlivened by the inspection of 
an elephant-kraal, where a herd had been trapped, 
drugged, and shot during the last season. As the 
walls were very flimsy, I asked why the animals 
did not break loose; the answer was that the 
Nghn (Mganga or Fetishman) ran a line of 
poison vine along its crest, and that the beasts, 
however wild, would not attempt to pass through 
