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Travelling up along the right bank of the Mpokwa, on the 21st we came to the head of the stream, and the sources of the Mpokwa, issuing out of deep defiles enclosed by lofty ranges. The mbawala and the buffalo were plentiful. On the 22nd, after a march of four hours and a half, we came to the beautiful stream of Mtambu the water of which was sweet, and clear as crystal, and flowed northward.
Disgusted with the miserable ammunition, I left the lions alone, and turned in, with their roaring as a lullaby. That terrestrial paradise for the hunter, the valley of the pellucid Mtambu, was deserted by us the next morning for the settlement commonly known to the Wakawendi as Imrera's, with as much unconcern as though it were a howling desert.
The mbemba fruit was plentiful along this march, and every few minutes I could see from the rear one or two men hastening to secure a treasure of it which they discovered on the ground. A little before reaching the camp I had a shot at a leopard, but failed to bring him down as he bounded away. At night the lions roared as at the Mtambu River.
The village near which we encamped was called Itaga, in the district of Rusawa. As soon as we had crossed the River Mtambu we had entered Ukawendi, commonly called "Kawendi" by the natives of the country. The district of Rusawa is thickly populated. The people are quiet and well-disposed to strangers, though few ever come to this region from afar.
On the eastern bank we halted for lunch, and, after an hour and a half's march, arrived at another stream, which I took to be the Mtambu, at first from the similarity of the land, though my map informed me that it was impossible.
Emerging again into the broad sunlight, I strolled further in search of something to shoot. Presently, I saw, feeding quietly in the forest which bounded the valley of the Mtambu on the left, a huge, reddish-coloured wild boar, armed with most horrid tusks.
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