Yesterday we were met by a party of the same occupation, laden with bark-cloth, which they had just been stripping off the trees.
Their leader would not come along the path because I was sitting near it: I invited him to do so, but it would have been disrespectful to let his shadow fall on any part of my person, so he went a little out of the way: this politeness is common.
_27th April, 1868._--But a short march to Fungafunga's village: we could have gone on to the Muatize, but no village exists there, and here we could buy food.

Fungafunga's wife gave a handsome supper to the stranger: on afterwards acknowledging it to her husband he said, "That is your village; always go that way and eat my provisions." He is a Monyamwezi trading in the country for copper, hoes, and slaves.
Parrots are here in numbers stealing Holcus sorghum in spite of the shouts of the women.
We cross Muatize by a bridge of one large tree, getting a good view of Moero from a hill near Kabukwa, and sleep at Chirongo River.
_29th April, 1868._--At the Mandapala River.

Some men here from the Chungu, one of whom claimed to be a relative of Casembe, made a great outcry against our coming a second time to Casembe without waiting at the Kalungosi for permission.

One of them, with his ears cropped short off, asked me when I was departing north if I should come again.

I replied, "Yes, I think I shall." They excited themselves by calling over the same thing again and again.