was the counterpart of that I described in my last letter as extending between Koomaylo and Lower Sooro. A dead flat of two or three hundred yards across, with the torrent’s bed winding across it, and spur after spur of mountain turning it every quarter of a mile. Some of the mountain views which we saw up the ravines were certainly very fine, but it became monotonous in the extreme after six hours’ march at the rate of little over two miles an hour. The vegetation, however, had changed since the preceding day. The thorny bush no longer covered everything, but a variety of shrubs now bordered the path, and the diversity of their foliage was a relief to the eye. Immense quantities of locusts were everywhere met with, making the ground yellow where they lay, and rising with a rustling noise, which was very discomposing to the horses at our approach. They did not eat all the shrubs, but the species upon which they fed were absolutely covered with them, and most of their favourite plants were stripped completely bare. Monkeys, or rather baboons, still abounded: we saw numerous large troops of them, which must have been over a hundred strong. It was about five o’clock when we reached Guinea-fowl Plain, which may have guinea-fowls, although we saw none; but which is most certainly not a plain, for at the place where the well is the valley is narrower than it had been for miles previously. Here we found some really large trees, and under them we pitched our tent. It was not long before our servants had fires lighted and dinner in a forward state. There were two or three other parties who had arrived before us, and, as it got dusk, all lighted fires; and, as each party, with their cooking and grooms’ fires, had at least three bonfires going, it made quite a picturesque scene. The night was raw and cold, and we had a few drops of rain. It was fortunate that we had brought water with us for cooking purposes, for the water in the well was perfectly undrinkable.