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The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume I (of 2), 1866-1868 by David Livingstone
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the other shore. The natives never attempt to cross any part of the
Lake south of this Kirwa. Land could not be seen with a good glass on
the clearest day we had. I can understand why the natives pronounced
Moero to be larger than Tanganyika: in the last named they see the
land always on both sides; it is like a vast trough flanked with
highlands, but at Moero nothing but sea horizon can be seen when one
looks south-west of the Rua Mountains.

At the Kalongosi meadow one of Mohamad's men shot a buffalo, and he
gave me a leg of the good beefy flesh. Our course was slow, caused
partly by rains, and partly by waiting for the convoy. The people at
Kalongosi were afraid to ferry us or any of his people in the convoy
out of Casembe's country; but at last we gave a good fee, and their
scruples yielded: they were influenced also by seeing other villagers
ready to undertake the job; the latter nearly fought over us on seeing
that their neighbours got all the fare.

We then came along the Lake, and close to its shores. The moisture
caused a profusion of gingers, ferns, and tropical forest: buffaloes,
zebras and elephants are numerous, and the villagers at Chukosi's,
where we slept, warned us against lions and leopards.

_12th January, 1868._--Sunday at Karembwé's village. The mountains
east of him are called Makunga. We went yesterday to the shore, and by
protraction Rua point was distant thirty-three miles. Karembwé sent
for us, to have an audience; he is a large man with a gruff voice, but
liked by his people and by strangers. I gave him a cloth, and he gave
me a goat. The enthusiasm with which I held on to visit Moero had
communicated itself to Tipo Tipo and Syde bin Alle, for they followed
me up to this place to see the Lake, and remained five days while we
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