_16th November, 1872._--After waiting some time for the men I sent men back yesterday to look after the sick donkey, they arrived, but the donkey died this morning. Its death was evidently caused by tsetse bite and bad usage by one of the men, who kept it forty-eight hours without water. The rain, no doubt, helped to a fatal end; it is a great loss to me. _17th November, 1872._--We went on along the bottom of a high ridge that flanks the Lake on the west, and then turned up south-east to a village hung on the edge of a deep chasm in which flows the Aeezy. _18th November, 1872._--We were soon overwhelmed in a pouring rain, and had to climb up the slippery red path which is parallel and near to Mbétté's. One of the men picked up a little girl who had been deserted by her mother. As she was benumbed by cold and wet he carried her; but when I came up he threw her into the grass. I ordered a man to carry her, and we gave her to one of the childless women; she is about four years old, and not at all negro-looking. Our march took us about S.W. to Kampamba's, the son of Kasonso, who is dead. _19th November, 1872._--I visited Kampamba. He is still as agreeable as he was before when he went with us to Liemba. I gave him two cloths as a present. He has a good-sized village. There are heavy rains now and then every day. _20th, 21st, and 23rd November, 1872._--The men turn to stringing beads for future use, and to all except defaulters I give a present of 2 dotis, and a handful of beads each. I have diminished the loads considerably, which pleases them much. We have now 3-1/2 loads of calico, and 120 bags of beads. Several go idle, but have to do any odd work, such as helping the sick or anything they are ordered to do. I gave the two Nassickers who lost the cow and calf only 1 doti, they were worth 14 dotis. One of our men is behind, sick with dysentery. I am obliged to leave him, but have sent for him twice, and have given him cloth and beads. _24th November, 1872._--Left Kampamba's to-day, and cross a meadow S.E. of the village in which the River Muanani rises. It flows into the Kapondosi and so on to the Lake. We made good way with Kiteneka as our guide, who formerly accompanied Kampamba and ourselves to Liemba. We went over a flat country once covered with trees, but now these have all been cut down, say 4 to 5 feet from the ground, most likely for clearing, as the reddish soil is very fertile. Long lines of hills of denudation are in the distance, all directed to the Lake. We came at last to Kasonso's successor's village on the River Molulwé, which is, say, thirty yards wide, and thigh deep. It goes to the Lofu. The chief here gave a sheep--a welcome present, for I was out of flesh for four days. Kampamba is stingy as compared with his father.