Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic OceanStanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic Ocean
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904 -- Travel -- Africa, Central
The stiff clay lying under this mould, being impervious, retains the
moisture which constantly supplies the millions of tiny roots of herb,
plant and bush. The innumerable varieties of plants which spring up with
such marvellous rapidity, if exposed to the gale, would soon be laid
prostrate. But what rude blast can visit these imprisoned shades? The
tempest might roar without the leafy world, but in its deep bosom there
is absolute stillness. One has but to tug at a sapling to know that the
loose mould has no retentive power, and that the sapling’s roots have
not penetrated the clays. Even the giants of the forest have not
penetrated very deeply, as one may see by the half-exposed roots; they
appear to retain their upright positions more by breadth of base than by
their grasp of earth.
Every few minutes we found ourselves descending into ditches, with
streams trending towards the Kunda river, discharged out of leafy depths
of date-palms, Amoma, Carpodinæ, and Phrynia. Climbing out from these
streams, up their steep banks our faces were brushed by the broad leaves
of the Amomum, or the wild banana, ficus of various kinds, and climbing,
crawling, obstructing lengths of wild vines.
Naturally our temper was not improved by this new travelling. The dew
dropped and pattered on us incessantly until about 10 A.M. Our clothes
were heavily saturated with it. My white sun-helmet and puggaree
appeared to be weighted with lead. Being too heavy, and having no use
for it in the cool dank shades, I handed it to my gun-bearer, for my
clothes, gaiters, and boots, which creaked loudly with the water that
had penetrated them, were sufficient weight for me to move with. Added
to this vexation was the perspiration which exuded from every pore, for
the atmosphere was stifling. The steam from the hot earth could be seen
ascending upward and settling like a grey cloud above our heads. In the
early morning it had been so dense that we could scarcely distinguish
the various trees by their leafage.
At 3 P.M. we had reached Mpotira, in the district of Uzimba, Manyema,
twenty-one miles and a half from the Arab depot on the Lualaba.
The poor boatmen did not arrive until evening, for the boat
sections—dreadful burdens—had to be driven like blunted ploughs through
the depths of foliage. The men complained bitterly of fatigue, and for
their sake we rested at Mpotira.
The nature of the next two days’ experiences through the forest may be
gathered by reading the following portions of entries in my journal:—
“_November 8._—N. ½ W., nine miles to district of Karindi, or Kionga,
Uregga.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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