An hour later we saw a herd of zebra, and George and I, after a long and careful stalk, secured four. They were in prime condition, and very plump, yet, strange to say, the country appeared to produce nothing more nourishing than occasional clumps of coarse grass, or rather straw, as it was burnt yellow by the fierce rays of the sun. These four zebras were a veritable windfall, as they not only enabled the men who accompanied us to lay in a few days’ supply for our journey down the river, but by sending a messenger back to Jumbi he was enabled to send for the remainder, which was sufficient to feed the men remaining in camp for some days. We camped on the river-bank, which we had some difficulty in regaining, having to cut our way with knives and axes through the densely interlaced bush and creepers which fringed the water’s edge. The weather was delightful, though the heat in the open was terrific, this camp being situated within one degree of the equator, and not more than one thousand two hundred feet above sea-level. On starting the following morning we found that the river curved away to the northward, rounding the easterly spur of the Zambo Plateau. As we proceeded, the luxuriant tropical vegetation gave way to scattered acacias and patches of burnt-up elephant grass. The soil underfoot also changed in character, the rocky outcrops and boulders of quartz and gneiss almost entirely disappearing. In their place were vast stretches of smooth shining sand, alternated with patches of loose brown earth, as soft and crumbly as starch, which made travelling a matter of great toil and difficulty. Game was very plentiful. I shot a grantei during the morning, and when we halted for lunch I secured three water-buck.