Another ass was left at Rufuta unable to stand, and anxiously eyeing its stomach, whereby the Baloch conjectured that it was dying of a poisonous grass. Having to ascend on the 12th August the Goma Pass of the Rufuta, or the Eastern Range, I had arranged with Kidogo and the Kirangozi, or guide, that the porters should proceed with their packs, and after topping the hill, should return, for a consideration, to assist the asses. None, however, reappearing, when the sun had risen a spear’s length we set out, hugging the hill-flanks, with deep ravines yawning on the right. Presently after passing through a clear forest of tall scattered trees, between whose trunks were visible on both sides in perspective, far below, long rolling tracts of well-wooded land broken by ravines and cut by water-courses, we arrived at the foot of a steep hill. The ascent was a kind of ramp, composed of earth-steps, clods bound by strong tenacious roots, and thickly strewn with blocks of schiste, micacious grit, and a sandstone showing the presence of iron. The summit of this “kloof” was ascertained to rise 2,235 feet above sea-level. It led to an easy descent along the flank of a hill commanding on the left hand, below a precipitous foreground, a fine bird’s-eye view of scattered cone and wavy ridge rising and falling in a long roll, and on a scale decreasing till they settled into a line of hazy-blue horizon, which had all the effect of a circumambient ocean. We reached the remains of a kraal on the summit of a dwarf hill called Mfu’uni, from the abundance of the Mfu’u tree, which bears an edible apple externally like the smallest “crab,” but containing a stone of inordinate proportions: below the encamping ground the Pagazi found a runnel of pure water, which derived its name from the station. In former times Mfu’uni was a populous settlement; the kidnapping parties from the coast, and especially the filibusters of Whinde, have restored it to the fox and the cynhyæna, its “old inhabitants.” I spent a sleepless night in watching each star as it sank and set in its turn, piercing with a last twinkle the thin silhouette of tall trees that fringed the hilly rim of the horizon, and in admiring the hardness of the bull-headed Mabruki, as he lay half-roasted by the fire and half-frozen by the cold southern gale.