Beyond the ravines, on high table-lands, negro villages again began to appear. Some lay near together, some at the distance of a day or two. All were surrounded by high stockades for protection against lions, and these were so entwined with creepers that even close at hand they looked like clumps of a virgin forest. Only from the smoke rising from the middle of the village could one perceive that people dwelt there. The caravan was everywhere received more or less as at M'Rua's village; that is, at first with alarm and distrust and afterwards with admiration, amazement, and esteem. Once only did it happen that the whole village, at the sight of the elephant, Saba, the horses, and the white people, ran away to an adjacent forest, so that there was no one to converse with. Nevertheless, not a spear was aimed against the travelers, for negroes, until Mohammedanism fills their souls with cruelties and hatred against infidels, are rather timid and gentle. So it most frequently happened that Kali ate a "piece" of the local king and the local king a "piece" of Kali, after which the relations were of the most friendly character. To the "Good Mzimu," the negroes furnished evidence of homage and piety in the shape of chickens, eggs, and honey, extracted from wooden logs suspended from the boughs of great trees with the aid of palm ropes. The "great master," the ruler of the elephant, thunder, and fiery snakes, aroused mainly fear, which soon, however, changed into gratitude when they became convinced that his generosity equaled his might. Where the villages were closer to one another the arrival of the extraordinary travelers was announced from one village to the other by the beating of drums, for the negroes give notice of everything with the aid of drumming. It happened also that the entire populace would come out to meet them, being well disposed in advance.