There are two great Wayao chiefs in the district of Blantyre, who are called Kapeni and Kumpama, and whose head quarters are at Mounts Sochi and Cherasulo respectively. These are the two large territorial chiefs. Mkanda of Cherasulo, was at first a headman of Kumpama’s, but rebelled, and lives on the southern side of that mountain; an easy day’s march from Blantyre. Kumpama’s territory begins about six miles from Blantyre at a stream called the Luunsu, and extends to the Namasi, on which is the old site of the Magomero Mission. The next great centre of population as we march to the north-east is Zomba, one side of which is owned by Chemlumbe, a Yao chief. The other side belongs to Malemya, a more powerful man, who is a Machinga. A little way beyond there is Mount Chikala, where a still more powerful chief called Kawinga resides; he is also a Machinga. If we look towards the south from Zomba we see a great mountain, Mlanje, this marks the domain of Matapwiri. When we wish in Quilimane to ask for a man who speaks Chiyao or Machinga, we ask for a person from Matapwiri’s country. There a Matapwiri is used for a simpleton—one that has not seen the world. It is with this chief that the Yao of the coast are most associated, as the slave gangs for Quilimane used to set out from his village. G.—TRAVELLING AND SALUTATIONS. _Native Roads._ The native roads are never straight; at best they glide along by an easy succession of curves. Sometimes the amount of curvature is very annoying. The path is little more than a foot broad. Each side is covered with tall grass, which reaches over the traveller’s head. You can only see four or five paces in front, and you can never predict what course the path will take after that. The causes of curvature are numerous. Here a tree fell down long ago and lay across the path. While it still lay every traveller went round the end of it, and the original path was abandoned, and replaced by grass that no traveller will care to interfere with. At another place the path turned aside to go through a little village; but the village has passed away years ago. At another spot some one had hoed a field, and made the road go round its border. There are cases too where the path may have deviated to avoid marshes and difficult crossings. On many roads we lose one mile in every five. After the grass is burned, or in bad soil where very little grass grows, one may have the pleasure of going in a straight line; but where the grass is at all represented no one can pass through it without the greatest exertion. If a person leave a native path with the idea of taking a short cut, he may get into a tangle of long grass and bushes, where his progress will be not more than one mile in four hours. _Grass Fires._