s escape.

Going on with the march we next came to Ndongo, a perfect garden of
plantains. The whole country was rich--most surprisingly so. The same
streaky argillaceous sandstones prevailed as in Karague. There was
nothing, in fact, that would not have grown here, if it liked moisture
and a temperate heat. It was a perfect paradise for negroes: as fast as
they sowed they were sure of a crop without much trouble; though, I must
say, they kept their huts and their gardens in excellent order.

As Maula would stop here, I had to halt also. The whole country along
the banks of the river, and near some impenetrable forests, was alive
with antelopes, principally hartebeests, but I would not fire at
them until it was time to return, as the villagers led me to expect
buffaloes. The consequence was, as no buffaloes were to be found, I got
no sport, though I wounded a hartebeest, and followed him almost into
camp, when I gave up the chase to some negroes, and amused myself by
writing to Rumanika, to say if Grant did not reach me by a certain date,
I would try to navigate the N'yanza, and return to him in boats up the
Kitangule river.

We crossed over a low spur of hill extending from the mountainous
kingdom of Nkole, on our left, towards the N'yanza. Here I was shown by
Nasib a village called Ngandu, which was the farthest trading depot of
the Zanzibar ivory-merchants. It was established by Musa Mzuri, by
the permission of Rumanika; for, as I shall have presently to mention,
Sunna, after annexing this part of Uddu to Uganda, gave Rumanika certain
bands of territory in it as a means of security against the possibility
of its being wrested out of his hands again by the future kings of
Unyoro. Following on Musa's wake, many Arabs also came here to trade;
but they were so oppressive to the Waganda that they were recalled by
Rumanika, and obliged to locate themselves at Kufro. To the right, at
the end of the spur, stretching as far as the eye could reach towards
the N'yanza, was a rich, well-wooded, swampy plain, containing large
open patches of water, which not many years since, I was assured, were
navigable for miles, but now, like the Urigi lake, were gradually drying
up. Indeed, it appeared to me as if the N'yanza must have once washed
the foot of these hills, but had since shrunk away from its original
margin.

On arrival at Ngambezi, I was immensely struck with the neatness and
good arrangement of the place, as well as its e