In passing this valley of several miles in length, and of three quarters of a mile in breadth, I could not help observing its natural defences as a military position. On our left was Kpaloko, whose steep sides are totally inaccessible, and Mount Laow, running parallel on the opposite side of the valley, equally steep and inaccessible, although not so high. Supposing this valley were walled across (which is narrow at each end) with batteries on the top, and properly armed, a disciplined army might, with proper resources, defy any number of enemies. The valley is composed of excellent soil, and rears annually four crops of the small red Indian corn. This sort, I believe, would grow in our British isles; and, with other vegetables, which grow with equal rapidity, would support an army constantly, capable of defending it during any siege, however prolonged. It has numerous springs, besides a considerable stream, which passes along in a serpentine course. After reaching the end of this interesting valley, we were met at the market-place on the side of the path, under some large trees, by the caboceer of Kpaloko, who presented me with thirty-nine calabashes of provision and a fine bull. His name was Janko. While resting under the shade of the gigantic trees I could not help looking back with wonder on the singular work of the Supreme Ruler of Nature. The immense blocks, which might well be called mountains of granite, we had passed, thrown together in a confused mass or heap, overhanging the valley in awful grandeur, presented certainly the most interesting scene of the kind I had ever witnessed. This caboceer was very communicative and intelligent, and, I learnt, was much loved and respected by his people. After resting about an hour, and distributing some presents, as I had done to all the caboceers and head men on my journey, we marched on our return for Baffo, which we reached in the evening, where I again took up my old quarters.