adventurous fortune-hunter may successfully push his addresses. For the benefit of those gentlemen I must explain how matters stand. Nangoro is king by virtue of his deceased first wife; by her he has no children. Chipanganjarà married that lady’s sister, who also is dead, leaving one daughter as heiress to the kingdom; and this daughter is Chipanga. She, greasy negress as she was, never forgave me the “spretæ injuria formæ.” [Illustration: NANGORO, KING OF THE OVAMPO.] I observed that some wild ducks and geese flew over our encampment every morning and evening, and begged Tippoo that I might be allowed to go to the water where they drank. We walked a couple of hours due east, and came to a long succession of vleys, where droves of Nangoro’s cattle were watered. There was no grass near, or else I should have insisted on encamping there. Beyond the vleys the thorns began again. Elephants come down at times in great numbers, and do much mischief to the corn. I fancy that game is very abundant in the neighbourhood of the great river, although there must be a great deal of cultivated ground adjacent to it. The course of the river is very long, and its stream is undoubtedly swift, because although a considerable slope might be allowed for from Nangoro’s werft northwards to its bed, still the height of the bed at that place above the sea can hardly be less than 3000 feet. To the westwards of north the river is formed by the confluence of three others; and in that country the Ovabundja live: it is marshy and flooded, and the people live in houses built on poles. It is very remarkable that between Chapupa’s werft (where the waggons were left) and Nangoro’s, a distance of 220 miles, we had not crossed a single river-bed. There was the mark of one little rivulet about four feet wide, near Otchikoto, and that was literally all. I could obtain no answer from Nangoro as to whether or not I might proceed. Chik, who was our only medium of communication, put off everything with a “to-morrow.” We were so teased with his procrastination, that we christened him “Mahuka,” which was his favourite word. I went to Nangoro’s to see his wives at work, threshing corn. They make meal by pounding the grain in a stone mortar; everything was scrupulously clean and tidy. The granaries are in shape and manufacture exactly like our common bee-hives, though considerably larger, about four feet in diameter; these are placed with the point downwards, each in a rough frame-work on three legs, which raises it a foot from off the ground; into the bee-hive the grain is put, and the whole is thatched and plastered over: in Nangoro’s granary rows and rows of these were standing.