_Feb. 13._—On the morning of the 13th we passed either the mouth of a channel 500 yards wide, or a river—the Sankuru (?)—to our left. We certainly thought it was a mere island channel, until we became surprised at its great length, and still more surprised when, turning round a bend, we discovered ourselves in the presence of a large number of villages. It was too late to return. The great war-drums and horns thundered through the woods, and startled the wild echoes of many a forested isle. With an intuitive feeling that we should again “catch it,” and become soon engaged in all the horrors of savage warfare, we prepared with all the skill in our power to defend ourselves. The women and children were told to lie down in the bottom of the canoes, and the spearmen to “stand by shields” to protect the riflemen. At this time we possessed only thirty-nine guns—nineteen Sniders and twenty muskets—besides my own rifles. When within 300 yards of the first settlement, we sheered off into mid-river and paddled slowly down in close line, the boat in the advance, with a vague sense that there would be no rest for us until we either sank into the grave or Providence should endow us with wings to enable us to vanish from this fearful savage world. The first war-cries that rang out as the beautiful but cruel canoes skimmed towards us reminded me of the “Houyhynyms,” for, to express correctly the neighing sounds of the warriors of Marunja, their cry ought to be spelled “Yaha-ha-ha.” But in tone it was marvellously like a neighing chorus of several full-blooded stallions. Had I not been able to ascertain the names of these tribes, I should certainly have been justified in stating that after the “Ooh-hu-hus” we encountered the “Bo- bo-bos,” and after a dire experience with the fierce “Bo-bo-bos” we met the terrible “Yaha-ha-has.” Any traveller who should succeed me would be certain to remark upon the fidelity of the novel classification.