Stanley, Senhor Silva, Timbo, and I took up our guns to proceed inland. The scenery on the banks was very beautiful, the trees not growing in dense masses, but scattered in groups, like those in a gentleman's park in England. Beautiful flowers covered the open spaces. Among some of the groups of trees we observed the orchilla weed hanging from the branches. This is one of the exports of Africa, and is used as a dye stuff. There was a beautiful little shrub which Chickango called the _mullah_. It bore a yellow fruit. He gathered several--which he said were good to eat--and we found them full of seeds, like a custard-apple, with a sweet taste. A larger tree was covered with white blossoms, their fragrance reminding me of the hawthorn at home; but the flowers of these were as large as dog-roses and the fruit the size of big marbles. Chickango pointed to the flowers; not so much to admire them, as because numerous bees were sucking their sweets. "Dere! dere!"--and he pointed out several hollows in the neighbouring trees. "Me come back, and get for eat," he said. From another shrub--which our companion called the _mogametsa_--he picked a quantity of fruit, which had the appearance of a bean with pulp round it. "Why," cried Leo, as he tasted the _mogametsa_, "it is just like sponge-cake--capital stuff! We must take a quantity to the camp." Another very nice fruit was the _maioa_, which grew abundantly on low bushes. Indeed, we found a number of edible bulbs and bushes. Among them I must not forget to mention the _mamosho_ and _milo_. The latter is a sort of medlar, which all hands pronounced delicious. Indeed, there was no fear of our starving in this region. There were great numbers of birds also; but I will describe them by-and-by. Troops of animals passed us, among which the giraffe was conspicuous. We were just emerging from the wood, when we saw a single giraffe following a large herd at a distance, having from some cause been separated from his companions. On he went, swinging his tall head from side to side to keep time with the motion of his legs, which put me in mind of the way spiders move. He was passing a clump of trees, when a terrific roar reached our ears. The poor animal attempted to increase his pace; but before he could do so, a huge lion sprang from a thicket, and with one bound alighted on the giraffe's back. "It is too far off for a bullet to reach him," observed Stanley, "or I would try to rescue the giraffe by killing the lion." "It would be useless, for I suspect the giraffe's fate is sealed," said Senhor Silva. "The grip with which the lion seized his neck is sufficient to end his days. In spite of the giraffe's strength, the king of the forest will soon have him down."