The March to Banza Nkulu. 273 
knows no bounds. Old Gidi Mavunga flings off 
his upper garment, and with the fire of a youth of 
twenty enters the circle, where his performance is 
looked upon with respect, if not with admiration. 
Wilder and wilder waxeth the “ Devil’s delight,” 
till even the bystanders, especially the women, 
though they keep their places in the outer circle, 
cannot restrain that wonderful movement of haunch 
and flank. I laughed till midnight, and left the 
dancers dancing still. 
At 5 a.m. the strayed revellers found to their 
disgust a thick fog, or rather a thin drizzle, damp¬ 
ing grass and path, and suggesting anything but a 
pleasant trudge. They declared that starvation 
awaited us, as the “ fancy cloths ” were at an end, 
but I stopped that objection by a reference to the 
reserved fund. After an hour of sulky talk we set 
out towards the upper part of Banza Vivi, passing 
a small but pretty hill plain, with manioc-fields, 
gum-trees, and the bombax very symmetrical. 
We saw no animals : here and there appeared 
the trail of a hyaena, the only larger carnivor that 
now haunts the mountains. The song of Mkuka 
Mpela, the wild pigeon, and Fungu, the cuckoo, 
were loud in the brake : the Abbe Proyart makes 
the male cuculus chant his coo, coo, coo ; mount¬ 
ing one note above another with as much precision 
as a musician would sound his ut, re, mi: when he 
reached the third note, his mate takes it up and 
11 . 
T 
