From Kulongo I returned to Geer, from which it is distant about as far as from Addai. Half a league on the way we came to a spot where a deserted Seriba of Ghattas’s exhibited its desolate remains. The sight here was very striking; after penetrating the tall masses of grass, we found some self-sown sorghum, the stalks of which reached the astonishing length of 20 feet, being beyond question the tallest cereal in the world. The extraordinary growth was probably to be attributed to the manuring substances which, year after year, collect upon and fertilise the soil. The palisades of the old Seriba were still partially standing, and were hardly higher than the surrounding grass, and the ruins were overgrown with wild gourds, calabashes, and cucumbers. The bare frameworks of the conical roofs had fallen to the ground, and lay like huge crinolines: they served as supports to the growing pumpkins, and formed in this condition a thick shady bower. The extensive wilderness derived a weird aspect from the strange stillness that pervaded the deserted dwellings. There was not a song from a bird, there was hardly the humming of an insect; it seemed as if Nature were revelling in her undisputed sway, or as if the curse of a prophet had been wreaked upon the abodes of violence and of plunder. By the end of July all the bamboos were in full blossom. The grains are not unlike rye, and are edible, and, in times of dearth, have been known to form a substitute for the exhausted corn. When the fruit is mature, the long, ramified panicles have a very remarkable appearance, and the ears, clustered together at their base, radiate like an ancient whirlbat. Very rarely, however, does the African bamboo bloom, so that it is not often that it supplies the place of ordinary corn.