Four o’clock. The high mountain lies W.S.W. of us, and, to my joy, I hear from the mast that another mountain, far higher, rises behind it to S.W., with three peaks (Tshokka, fork, spike). It must therefore belong to a high land, as I have already hoped. The women sing their “kulle,” and throw the upper part of their bodies from one side to the other. I saw also the men here shake their chests with such agility and force, as I had never witnessed in the dances of the Arabs. How inferior all our gymnastics are to the natural nimbleness, and lion and tiger-like flexibility of these freely developed limbs! I see one negro jump up from the ground against another, with a piercing cry; he turns himself round whilst flying in the air, and stands with a raised spear—I might say upon his toe, bent forward for the combat—but he is immediately again appeased by the other. This was a pirouette, worthy of the plastic skill and hand of an artist. In the space of an hour, two other mountains in the south, we ourselves going southerly, are announced to me. On the right and left villages continue, but we see only here and there the top of a tokul, because they do not stand on the extreme higher margin of the shore. Large herds of cows glisten forth from the Haba close at hand, and others are scrambling down to the river to drink. This wooded region, directly on the stream, the proximity of the mountains,—we shall see what beautiful and wonderful things yet the interior of Africa may contain; and I will endure every thing, because I feel strengthened and excited by the mountain air blowing down upon me. There are some trees as green as beeches in May, and having the wide-spread branches of oaks. Immediately afterwards, a large village with flat tokuls: the right shore presents here, in truth, a charming sight. One tree, I remark, having some similarity to the linden in its foliage, spreading out its boughs like fans, in fantastical forms, and standing there oddly. On the right and left are several villages, and also an island on the right side of the river. On the left shore, a large tokul city, with a large and small island in the river before it. The tokuls have nearly a pointed roof, but appear to be carefully built. A number of people have accumulated there, and I hear the “kullelu” quite plainly, trilling, in the sharpest treble, the accent “Ih, ih, ih.” We halt, in a southerly direction, at sun-set, in the middle of the river, not to be annoyed by the natives, and to avoid all provocation on the part of the crew. The country is still a real paradise, and the durra is putting forth its shoots, to give a second crop. It must not be supposed that the fields have a regular form; on the contrary, every thing looks as if it grew of its own accord, without sowing. The trees stand in such strength, as though they had no need of water; and the human beings shew, by their more noble appearance, that they enjoy a generous nourishment.