The March to Banza Nkulu . 263 
“ He is a great man,” whispered my interpreter, 
“ and if they chaunt their battle-song, he must show 
them his bravery.” The truly characteristic scene 
ended in our being supplied with some fourteen 
black pots full of flesh, fowl, beans, and manioc, 
together with an abundance of plantains and sugar¬ 
cane ; a select dish was “ put in fetish” (set 
aside) for Gidi Mavunga, and the friendly foes 
all sat down to feast. The querelle d'Allemand 
ended with a general but vain petition for “ t’other 
bottle.” 
Fahrenheit showed 90° in the shade, as we bade 
adieu to the little land-bay, and made for the high 
rugged wall to the north-north-east separating 
the river valley from the inner country. On the 
summit we halted to enjoy the delicious sea-breeze 
with its ascending curve, and the delightful pros¬ 
pect far below. Some 1,300 feet beneath us ap¬ 
peared the Nzadi, narrowed to a torrent, and 
rushing violently down its highly inclined bed, a 
straight reach running east and west, in length 
from four and a half to five miles. As we fronted 
north, the Morro (cliff) Kala fell bluff towards its 
blue bight, the Mayumba Bay of the chart, on our 
left; to the right a black gate formed by twin 
cliffs shut out the upper stream from view. The 
panorama of hill-fold and projection, each bounded 
by deep green lines, which argued torrents during 
the rains ; the graceful slopes sinking towards the 
