Makole 



Who could resist the charm or be unhappy ? One 

 felt nothing mattered now. The past could bury 

 itself, and only the present counted. In the midst 

 of this peace of nature, with care banished to the 

 horizon, no disagreeable distractions, no need of 

 hurry and haste, no use for money, and food in 

 abundance, I could comprehend the native con- 

 tent with his aimless, happy-go-lucky life, which 

 approaching civilization was doing its best to inter- 

 fere with and eventually destroy. 



Before we halted I had to cross a very big 

 stream called Katonga, which at this point measured 

 over 500 feet in breadth. Unfortunately, its surface 

 was completely obliterated by the tall rushes that 

 spoiled a view which would otherwise have been a 

 restful relief to the eye after so many days of travel 

 through a dry country. I experienced a bitter cold 

 half hour whilst waiting for my tent to be put up; 

 a fairly strong gale was blowing, and as I had 

 followed my usual habit of selecting the highest 

 point in the vicinity for my night's rest, I felt the 

 full force of the hurricane. The name of the place 

 was Makole, and its chief, Mtesa, took me to his 

 residence of elephant-grass and proffered me cold 

 tea and bananas ; he also offered me presents of 

 lemons, cabbages, and new English potatoes. He 

 was expecting the acting Governor to pass through 

 his country on his annual tour, and was awaiting 

 his arrival. I learned that I had now left the 

 country of the Unyoro and had entered the con- 

 fines of the Baganda. The change was at once 



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