At this hour, refreshed by our halt, we resumed the march through a grassy wilderness. There were no villages in view on either hand, but the mobs followed us, now and then making demonstrations, and annoying us with their harsh cries and menaces. An expert shot left the line of march, and wounded two of them at a range of 400 yards. This silenced them for awhile, as though they were absorbed in wondering what missile could inflict injuries at such a distance. But soon their numbers received fresh accessions, and their audacity became more marked. The rear-guard band presently were heard firing, and possibly with effect; at any rate it was clear they had received a check. Finally, at 3.30, we came in view of the Bavira villages--the chief of whom is called Gavira--situated on an open plain and occupying both banks of a deep and precipitous ravine hollowed out of the clay by a considerable tributary of the East Ituri. We in the front halted on the eastern bank, as the natives--too tardy to effect anything--came rushing down to prevent the crossing. Loads were at once dropped, skirmishers were despatched from the advance to recross the river, and to assist the rear guard, and a smart scene of battle-play occurred, at the end of which the natives retreated on the full run. To punish them for four hours' persecution of us we turned about and set fire to every hut on either bank, then reforming we hastened up a steep hilly plateau, that rose 200 feet above the plain, to meet the natives who had gathered to oppose us. Long, however, before we could reach the summit they abandoned their position and left us to occupy a village in peace. It being now a late hour we camped, and our first duty was to render our quarters safe against a night attack. It should be observed that up to the moment of firing the villages, the fury of the natives seemed to be increasing, but the instant the flames were seen devouring their homes the fury ceased, by which we learned that fire had a remarkable sedative influence on their nerves. The village of Gavira's, wherein we slept that night, was 4,657 feet above the sea. It had been a fine day for travel, and a S.E. breeze was most cooling. Without it we should have suffered from the great heat. As the sun set it became very cold; by midnight the temperature was 60°. We had travelled nine miles, and mostly all complained of fatigue from the marching and constant excitement.