I halted a day at Kusuri to give my caravan a rest, after its long series of marches, before venturing on the two days' march through the uninhabited wilderness that separates the district of Jiweh la Singa Uyanzi from the district of Tura in Unyanyembe. Hamed preceded, promising to give Sayd bin Salim notice of my coming, and to request him to provide a tembe for me. On the 15th, having ascertained that Sheikh Thani would be detained several days at Kusuri, owing to the excessive number of his people who were laid up with that dreadful plague of East Africa, the small-pox, I bade him farewell, and my caravan struck out of Kusuri once more for the wilderness and the jungle. A little before noon we halted at the Khambi of Mgongo Tembo, or the Elephant's Back--so called from a wave of rock whose back, stained into dark brownness by atmospheric influences, is supposed by the natives to resemble the blue-brown back of this monster of the forest. My caravan had quite an argument with me here, as to whether we should make the terekeza on this day or on the next. The majority was of the opinion that the next day would be the best for a terekeza; but I, being the "bana," consulting my own interests, insisted, not without a flourish or two of my whip, that the terekeza should be made on this day. Mgongo Tembo, when Burton and Speke passed by, was a promising settlement, cultivating many a fair acre of ground. But two years ago war broke out, for some bold act of its people upon caravans, and the Arabs came from Unyanyembe with their Wangwana servants, attacked them, burnt the villages, and laid waste the work of years. Since that time Mgongo Tembo has been but blackened wrecks of houses, and the fields a sprouting jungle. A cluster of date palm-trees, overtopping a dense grove close to the mtoni of Mgongo Tembo, revived my recollections of Egypt. The banks of the stream, with their verdant foliage, presented a strange contrast to the brown and dry appearance of the jungle which lay on either side. At 1 P.M. we resumed our loads and walking staffs, and in a short time were en route for the Ngwhalah Mtoni, distant eight and three-quarter miles from the khambi. The sun was hot; like a globe of living, seething flame, it flared its heat full on our heads; then as it descended towards the west, scorched the air before it was inhaled by the lungs which craved it. Gourds of water were emptied speedily to quench the fierce heat that burned the throat and lungs. One pagazi, stricken heavily with the small-pox, succumbed, and threw himself down on the roadside to die. We never saw him afterwards, for the progress of a caravan on a terekeza, is something like that of a ship in a hurricane. The caravan must proceed--woe befall him who lags behind, for hunger and thirst will overtake him--so must a ship drive before the fierce gale to escape foundering--woe befall him who falls overboard!