of the water would permit, and left to themselves, perhaps, as far as two hundred yards from terra firma. On remonstrating with the boatmen for not better securing our little flotilla, they replied that any further precautions were unnecessary, inasmuch as the water (which had already begun to ebb) would shortly recede and leave the canoes dry on the beach. I felt skeptical, but, nevertheless, allowed them to have their own way. In the course of the night it fell calm (a fresh breeze had been blowing during the day), and next morning we found that what the boatmen had predicted was fulfilled; the canoes were as far from the water as, on the preceding evening, they had been from the shore.
From the time that the wind fell the water began slowly to return, and about nine o'clock in the morning it was at its usual height, and the canoes floated once more without any effort on our side.
The Lake is fed by the Teoge at its northwest extremity. The river never, perhaps, much exceeds forty yards; but it is deep, and, when at its greatest height, contains a large volume of water. Its annual overflow takes place in June, July, and August, and sometimes even later. The source of the Teoge is as yet unknown, but is supposed to be very distant. It may probably have its rise on the same high table-land as the Quanza, and other streams of importance. The main course of the Teoge is northwest, but it is so serpentine that, in thirteen days when I ascended it, traveling on an average five miles per day, and reckoning two and a quarter miles to the hour, I only made about one degree of latitude due north of the Lake. As far as I proceeded, however, it was navigable with smaller craft; for only in three places that I can remember did I find less than five feet of water, and, generally speaking, the depth was considerable. It must be recollected, however, that it was then at its greatest height.
Though that portion of the Teoge ascended by me is narrow, I am told that, on approaching its source, it widens