The Village On The Kweelo, At Which We Spent Sunday, Was That Of A Civil,
Lively Old Man, Called Sakandala,
Who offered no objections to our progress.
We found we should soon enter on the territory of the Bashinje
(Chinge
Of the Portuguese), who are mixed with another tribe, named Bangala,
which have been at war with the Babindele or Portuguese. Rains and fever,
as usual, helped to impede our progress until we were put on the path which
leads from Cassange and Bihe to Matiamvo, by a head man named Kamboela.
This was a well-beaten footpath, and soon after entering upon it
we met a party of half-caste traders from Bihe, who confirmed the information
we had already got of this path leading straight to Cassange,
through which they had come on their way from Bihe to Cabango.
They kindly presented my men with some tobacco, and marveled greatly
when they found that I had never been able to teach myself to smoke.
On parting with them we came to a trader's grave. This was marked
by a huge cone of sticks placed in the form of the roof of a hut,
with a palisade around it. At an opening on the western side
an ugly idol was placed: several strings of beads and bits of cloth
were hung around. We learned that he had been a half-caste,
who had died on his way back from Matiamvo.
As we were now alone, and sure of being on the way to the abodes
of civilization, we went on briskly.
On the 30th we came to a sudden descent from the high land,
indented by deep, narrow valleys, over which we had lately been traveling.
It is generally so steep that it can only be descended at particular points,
and even there I was obliged to dismount, though so weak
that I had to be led by my companions to prevent my toppling over
in walking down. It was annoying to feel myself so helpless,
for I never liked to see a man, either sick or well, giving in effeminately.
Below us lay the valley of the Quango. If you sit on the spot
where Mary Queen of Scots viewed the battle of Langside,
and look down on the vale of Clyde, you may see in miniature
the glorious sight which a much greater and richer valley
presented to our view. It is about a hundred miles broad,
clothed with dark forest, except where the light green grass
covers meadow-lands on the Quango, which here and there glances out in the sun
as it wends its way to the north. The opposite side of this great valley
appears like a range of lofty mountains, and the descent into it
about a mile, which, measured perpendicularly, may be from a thousand
to twelve hundred feet. Emerging from the gloomy forests of Londa,
this magnificent prospect made us all feel as if a weight had been lifted
off our eyelids.
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