I turned round to look at Nyangwé, which we were leaving. How loveable and cheerful it appeared as it crowned the shoulder of one of those lengthy grassy undulations overlooking the grey-brown Livingstone! How bright and warm appeared the plain-border of the river as the sun shone over its wind-fanned waves of grass! Even the hill-cones of Uzura and Western Manyema ranked in line between the forest and the grassy plain, which were now purpling and becoming like cloud-forms, seemed to me to have a more friendly and brighter appearance than the cold blackness of the dense forest which rose before us to the north! What a forbidding aspect had the Dark Unknown which confronted us! I could not comprehend in the least what lay before us. Even the few names which I had heard from the Arabs conveyed no definite impression to my understanding. What were Tata, Meginna, Uregga, Usongora Meno and such uncouth names to me? They conveyed no idea, and signified no object; they were barren names of either countries, villages, or peoples, involved in darkness, savagery, ignorance, and fable. Yet it is our destiny to move on, whatever direction it may be that that narrow winding path, running among tall grasses, and down into gullies and across small streams, takes us, until we penetrate that cold, dark, still horizon before us, and emerge whithersoever the narrow path will permit us—a distance of 240 hours’ travel. The object of the desperate journey is to flash a torch of light across the western half of the Dark Continent. For from Nyangwé east, along the fourth parallel of south latitude, are some 830 geographical miles, discovered, explored, and surveyed, but westward to the Atlantic Ocean along the same latitude are 956 miles—over 900 geographical miles of which are absolutely unknown. Instead, however, of striking direct west, we are about to travel north on the eastern side of the river, to prevent it bending easterly to Muta Nzigé, or Nilewards, unknown to us, and to ascertain, if the river really runs westward, what affluents flow to it from the east; and to deduce from their size and volume some idea of the extent of country which they drain, and the locality of their sources. A thousand things may transpire to prevent the accomplishment of our purpose: hunger, disease, and savage hostility may crush us; perhaps, after all, the difficulties may daunt us, but our hopes run high, and our purpose is lofty; then in the name of God let us set on, and as He pleases, so let Him rule our destinies! After journeying a distance of nine miles and a half north-east, over a rolling plain covered with grass, we arrived at the villages of Nakasimbi; Tippu-Tib, with 700 people, men, women, and children, occupying two villages, while our Expedition occupied another overlooking a depression drained by a sluggish affluent of the Kunda river.