Amongst the numerous smaller beasts of prey to which the regions that I visited gave harbourage, the zebra-ichneumon was to me one of the most interesting. I was very successful in securing living specimens of this widely-scattered species, and could not suppress my astonishment at the facility with which they were domesticated in my dwelling; if ever they get established in a house there is no getting rid of them. It is a saucy creature, and has neither fear to show nor submission to yield to the authority of man. It resembles the wild cat of the steppes in the ease with which it can be accustomed to a home life. I found it exceedingly troublesome on account of the pertinacious curiosity with which it peeped into all my cases and boxes, upset my pots, broke my bottles, with no apparent object but to investigate the contents. To accomplish its aim it made incessant use of its long, taper, snuffling snout as a lever. But the most vexatious art of which the animal was master was the skill it had in scenting out the spots where my hens were accustomed to lay their eggs, and of which it learnt the flavour before I had an opportunity of removing them to a place of safety. It is moreover a tricky little animal; by whisking and wagging its tail it assumes the appearance of fawning and wheedling, but as soon as anyone touches it, he gets a good bite on his finger. When hunted out and followed by dogs, it throws itself down on its back, kicks its legs about, and grins and gnashes with its teeth. To keep clear of being bitten the best way is to pounce upon it by its tail and to let it hang dangling in the air. One morning there arrived at the Seriba from the far distant boundaries of the Bongo several wild-looking men, armed with bows and arrows. In order to satisfy myself of the effectiveness of their weapons, I set up a mark at a short distance, consisting of an earthen vessel, in front of which I placed a good thick pad of straw, and over all I threw a stout serge coat. Defying all the coverings, the arrow penetrated the coat, made its way through the straw and knocked a hole in the earthenware, which was nearly half-an-inch thick. A plant there is here which is not very likely to be forgotten by anyone who has made many excursions into the woods: I mean the _Mucuna urens_. It is a sort of bean, of which the pods are enclosed in a thick rind and the leaves are covered with pungent bristles. These bristles are as brittle as fibres of glass and, broken off by the wind, are dispersed in all directions over the foliage in the forests. No one who explores the thickets can escape being punished by these tiny prickles. The natives, who are naked, go amongst them with the extremest caution. The stinging sensation they cause lasts about ten minutes, but it may be alleviated by washing.