After hearing the facts, Ndala informed me there was no doubt that it was the “bad fetish” of Massassa people, and he proposed that the four kings of Zinga and the three kings of Mbelo should unite and completely destroy the Massassa people for their diabolical act. Said they, “It is not the first time an accident has happened at Massassa; for, about two months ago, one of our men, while standing on the rock, suddenly fell into the river, and was never seen again; and one of Mowa’s people has also been lost there in the same way.” The suggestion that it was the fetish of Massassa which had caused this sudden and sharp calamity was natural to the superstitious and awed natives; but in a few words I informed them that I blamed no man for it. “Say, Mundelé,” asked Ndala suddenly, “where has your white brother gone to?” “Home.” “Shall you not see him again?” “I hope to.” “Where?” “Above, I hope.” “Ah! we have heard that the white people by the sea came from above. Should you see him again, tell him that Ndala is sorry, and that he is angry with Massassa for taking him from you. We have heard from Mowa that he was a good, kind man, and all Zinga shall mourn for him. Drink the wine of our palms, Mundelé, and forget it. The Zinga palms are known throughout the lands of the Babwendé, and our markets are thronged with buyers. The Zinga wine will comfort you, and you will not be troubled with your sorrow.” Sympathy, real and pure sympathy, was here offered after their lights, which, though rude, was not unkind. The large crowds without spoke together in low subdued tones, the women gazed upon me with mild eyes, and their hands upon their lips, as though sincerely affected by the tragic fate of my companion. The effect on the Wangwana was different. It had stupefied them, benumbing their faculties of feeling, of hope, and of action. From this date began that exhibition of apathetic sullenness and lack of feeling for themselves, and for their comrades, which distinguished their after- life in the cataracts. The slightest illness would cause them to lean against a rock, or crouch by the fire in the posture of despair. They never opened their lips to request help or medicine, and as they were inaccessible to solicitude for themselves, they had none to bestow on others. After this fatal day I could scarcely get a reply to my questions when anxious to know what their ailments were. Familiarity with many forms of disease, violent and painful deaths, and severe accidents had finally deadened, almost obliterated, that lively fear of death which they had formerly shown.