They had heard, however, of a magnificent waterfall up the river. They accordingly proceeded up it, and, as they got about eighteen miles above Magimgo, a slight current was perceived. The river gradually narrowed to about a hundred and eighty yards, and now, when the paddles ceased working, the roar of water could be distinctly heard. Continuing on, the noise became louder. An enormous number of crocodiles were seen, and Mr Baker counted, on one sandbank alone, twenty-seven of large size. Reaching a deserted fishing village, the crew at first refused to proceed further, but, on Mr Baker explaining that he merely wished to see the falls, they paddled up the stream, now strong against them. On rounding a point, a magnificent sight burst upon them. On either side of the river were beautifully-wooded cliffs, rising abruptly to a height of about three hundred feet, rocks jutting out from the intensely green foliage, while, rushing through a gap which cleft the rock exactly before them, was the river. It is here contracted from a grand stream to the width of scarcely a hundred and fifty feet. Roaring fiercely through the rock-bound pass, it plunged, in one leap of about a hundred and twenty feet, perpendicularly into the dark abyss below, the snow-white sheet of water contrasting superbly with the dark cliff that walled the river, while the graceful palms of the tropics, and wild plantains, perfected the beauty of the scene. This was the great waterfall of the Nile, and was named the Murchison Falls, in compliment to the president of the Royal Geographical Society. To the river itself he gave the name of the Victoria Nile. Having taken a view of the falls, and remained for some time admiring them, narrowly escaping being upset by a huge bull hippopotamus, they returned down the river to Magimgo. Starting the next morning, both Mr and Mrs Baker suffering from fever, while all their quinine was exhausted, they found that their oxen had been bitten by the tsetse-fly, and were in a wretched condition, unlikely to live. Their guide also deserted them, and the whole of their carriers went off, leaving them on the Island of Patooam, in the Victoria River, to which they had been ferried across. It was now the 8th of April, and within a few days the boats in which they had hoped to return down the Nile would leave Gondokoro. It was, therefore, of the greatest importance that they should set out at once, and take a direct route through the Shooa country. The natives, not to be tempted even by bribes, positively refused to carry them. Their own men were also ill, and there was a great scarcity of provisions. War, indeed, was going on in the country to the east, Patooam being in the hands of Kamrasi's enemies. It was on this account that no Unyoro porters could be found.