I must digress for a moment to tell you what a superb lake the Ezhanga is, dotted with islands, among which are some perfect gems of wild and varied beauty. It is a sublime panorama. Down to the very edge of the water hang perfect walls of trailing vines and weeping trees, which look like the ivy-clad ruins of mediaeval England. Towers of green, of every shade the most vivid fancy can depict; crumbling turrets and broken arches, hung with garlands of flowers. Here are some of the most brilliant flowers and gorgeous foliage I have yet seen in this tropical land. In one part of the lake is a vast archipelago, which forms a gigantic labyrinth of coves and grottos. At places the boughs from island to island almost meet overhead, forming a grand archway of varied green set with the jewels of the floral queen, and looking as though Dame Nature and her maids had decked it for their own triumphal arch. Within the deep and solemn shadows of these sylvan naves no sunbeams kiss the limpid waters, and not a voice disturbs their quiet, save the harsh scream of the eagle or the wail of the lone ibis. Now and then is seen some bird with plumage of most brilliant tint, which looks as if its costume were designed for such a place, and here and there the fish disport in some retired nook. When once this fairy land is passed, the waters broaden to an inland sea, with only a few islands of a larger size. Some of these are skirted with wide bands of grass, sometimes sweeping away between the trees in a long vista, on whose green expanse stands, perhaps, a solitary hut, and on which feed the herds of hippopotami which lead a life of idle luxury along these fertile shores and in the lonely waters of this sea of dreams. Coming on down the Ogowe, I spent four days in a native village of the Orungo tribe. The town is called M'biro, but I do not know what the name signifies unless it is _mud_. I was kindly treated by the people, who delighted in hearing of some of the wonders of my country. The old king was in ecstasies at my efforts to speak a few phrases of his language, and vowed that nothing except a former betrothal restrained him from offering me his daughter for a wife, to go with me to my country and see some of the things of which I had told him. At this place I was again assured that the gorilla lived on the south side of the river. My next point was Fernan Vaz, which I reached in two days' journey along the Jimbogombi, one of the most beautiful rivers one can imagine. It is bordered with myriads of stately palms, bamboos, and ferns, relieved by vines, orchids, and flowers. Here the monkey revels in the plenitude of wild fruits, and the pheasant finds a safe retreat from crafty woodsmen, while birds of diverse kinds invoke the spirit of nature with the voice of song.