large village, but as there were some Watuta
strangers within the palisades, our visit was not
an agreeable one. However, despite their insolence,
the peace was not broken.
Minza, a neighbouring village, is also very
large, and possesses a strong stockade, the
base of it being embanked with the earth excavated
from the ditch.
There appears to be no diminution in the altitude
of the mountain-ranges which lie along the
entire east coast of the Tanganika, or on the
western side, as we have had the west mountains
plainly in view since leaving Mpimbwe. Now
and then we saw small streams issue into the
lake, but met no river of any importance, until
WG ..?.ame t0 the Zin2a’ or Mui-Zinga, as the
Wajiji call it, which separates Fipa from Urungu,
On the 30th we were coasting along the base
of the mountain-ranges of Urungu, and passing by
Kalavera Point came to a bay before which were
two small grass-covered islets. On a point of
the mainland, nearly opposite these, stands
Kakungu village. This point is formed of a
grey shaly rock supporting a white clay, out
of which the Wajiji on their -return homeward
paint the bows of their canoes. The scenery
just beyond is bold and imposing.
Kirungwe Point consists of perpendicular walls
from 50 to 200 feet high above the lake—-of
a fine reddish sandstone with horizontal strata.
Their peculiar appearance may be imagined
when the boat’s crew cried out:—
“Oh, mother, this is a fort! See, there are
the windows, and here is one of the gates.”
Kirungwe Point appears to be a lofty swelling
ridge, cut Straight through to an unknown depth.
As a glance at the “ High Place of the Spirit
Mtombwa, ” on the opposite side of the lake,
confirmed there seems ground for believing that
this ridge was once a prolongation of the plateau
of Marungu, as the rocks are of the same material,
and both sides of the lake show similar
results of a sudden subsidence without disturbance
of the strata.
South of Kirungwe, or Castle Point, there lies
what we may almost call an island, which the
guides said a few years ago was connected
with the mainland. It is almost entirely separated
now. A village which once nestled comfortably
in the hollow between the rising ridges is now
half buried in water. The huts appeared ready
to collapse, for the water had already flooded
them. This village was called Ma-Zombe.
In the evening, as we prepared to encamp, four
canoes of Ujiji, loaded with women and children, to
the number of sixty-four—slaves from the Rufuvu
river and from Muriro’s— passed by our camp.
The bay of Kawa, which we passed through
next day, is very picturesque; woods clothe the
slopes and heights, and huts for the accommo