Between Kipimpi Cape and Kalambwé Cape, King Muriro, or “Fire,” an immigrant from Unyamwezi, has, with the aid of a colony of restless spirits, established a formidable village called Akalunga, close to the lake. It is a resort for slavers, for Muriro has numbers of slaves on hand to exchange for powder and guns, and his people are always roving about on the look-out for more. From Kalambwé Cape northward the mountains loom higher and steeper, the shore is indented with many narrow inlets, vertical strata of greenstone being thus exposed, with thin forests crowning the loose soil which covers them. The depressions between the hilltops are numerous and shallow, consequently the drainage is quickly carried away in small rills. Beyond the Mapota the scenery becomes still bolder, and the more imposing woods impart with their varied hues of foliage and waving crowns a picturesqueness that since leaving Fipa has been wanting in the landscape of the stupendous and upspringing, terraced plateau wall of Western Urungu, or in the uniform contours of Eastern Urungu. _July 11._—At a camp near an inlet north of Kalambwé Cape we set fire to some grass to have a more open view of our surroundings. In an hour it had ascended the steep slope, and was raging triumphantly on the summit. Three nights after we saw it still burning about fifteen miles north of the locality whence it had first started, like a crown of glory on a mountain-top. Observation of this fire, and many others, explains why, in the midst of African uplands nourishing a dense forest, we suddenly come across narrow, far-penetrating plains covered with grass. They are, no doubt, so many tonguelike extensions from some broader, grass-covered expanses caused by fierce fires. Wherever the ground retains an excessive quantity of moisture, grasses, with stalks as thick as cane, spring up during three months’ rain to a height of eight to ten, sometimes fifteen, feet. In May these grasses become sere, and by June are as dry as tinder. The smallest spark suffices to set them in a flame, and the noise of two brigades of infantry fighting would hardly exceed the terrible rack, crackle, and explosions made by the onrush of the wind- swept element. It devours everything that stands before it, and roasts the surface of the ground, leaving it parched, blackened, and fissured. Though the mountains of Marungu are steep, rugged, and craggy, the district is surprisingly populous. Through the chasms and great cañons with which the mountains are sometimes cleft, we saw the summits of other high mountains, fully 2500 feet above the lake, occupied by villages, the inhabitants of which, from the inaccessibility of the position they had selected, were evidently harassed by some more powerful tribes to the westward.