they stepped aside to let us pass, and saluted us politely, the
men bowing and scraping, and the women, even with heavy
loads on their heads, curtseying—a curtsey from bare legs
is startling!
Senna is built on a low plain, on the right bank of
the Zambesi, with some pretty detached hills in the background;
it is surrounded by a stockade of living trees to
protect its inhabitants from their troublesome and rebellious
neighbours. It contains a few large houses, some ruins of
others, and a weatherbeaten cross, where once stood a church;
a mound shows the site of an ancient monastery, and
a mud fort by the river is so dilapidated, that cows were
grazing peacefully over its prostrate walls. This grieves not
the villagers, for its black garrison was wont to keep within
doors when the foe came near, leaving the merchants to
settle the strife as best they could; and they therefore consider
that the decay of the fort has not caused them to be any more
helpless than they were before.
The few Senna merchants, having little or no trade in the
village, send parties of trusted slaves into the interior to hunt
for, and purchase ivory. I t is a dull place, and very conducive
to sleep. One is sure to take fever in Senna on the second
day, if by chance one escapes it on the first day of a sojourn
there; but no place is entirely bad. Senna has one redeeming
feature: it is the native village of the large-hearted
and hospitable Senhor H. A. Ferrao. The benevolence of
this gentleman is unbounded. The poor black stranger
passing through the town goes to him almost as a matter of
course for food, and is never sent away hungry. In times
of famine the starving natives are fed by his generosity;
hundreds of his own people he never sees except on these
occasions; and the only benefit derived from being their
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