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After sleeping in various villages and crossing numerous streams, we came to Mombo's village, near the ridge overlooking the Lake. 31st March, and 1st April, 1867. I was too ill to march through. I offered to go on the 1st, but Kasonso's son, who was with us, objected. We went up a low ridge of hills at its lowest part, and soon after passing the summit the blue water loomed through the trees.
They made it known that their next scene of mulcting would be Mombo's village, and there they took twelve people four slaves, and many cloths, then went south to the hills they inhabit. A strict watch was kept on their movements by our headman and his men. They trust to fleeing into a thicket on the west of the village should the Mazitu come.
I had another fit of insensibility last night: the muscles of the back lose all power, and there is constant singing in the ears, and inability to do the simplest sum. The streams like this are almost innumerable. Mombo's village. It is distressingly difficult to elicit accurate information about the Lake and rivers, because the people do not think accurately.
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