In the Volcanic Region 143 



of the question ; a remedy had to be found somehow. There 

 was nothing for it but to dig out a rough terrace and build some 

 kind of platform for the tents. This we did, but it must be 

 confessed that they stood quite crooked and unsteady, and it 

 required some art to keep one's equilibrium, or even, in fact, to 

 sleep in them, for the bedsteads glided down the slanting 

 surface, and in the morning several of our company found them- 

 selves in quite different places from where they had been when 

 they laid down to rest. 



Next morning a new difficulty arose. There was no water. 

 We sent out a scouting party, but it returned at noonday having 

 met with no success. As, however, water was an absolute 

 necessity for the carriers, and as it was certain that conditions 

 would not improve as we got nearer the summit, we had no 

 other choice but to conclude the day as inactively as we had 

 commenced it. We remained in camp and sent all the carriers 

 back with their calabashes to the watercourse at the foot of the 

 mountain, so as to establish a kind of depot in case we did not 

 find any water on our way to the summit. The carriers set off 

 discontentedly on their toilsome descent, and it was growing 

 dusk before they returned with their filled vessels. 



From our camp we had a splendid view of Ninagongo, whose 

 peak rose up imposingly from a sea of cloud. Down below, the 

 cloud masses, driven by the air currents, chased over the plain. 

 Above these the outlines of the mountains stoo4 out sharply 

 defined in the rays; of the sinking sun, which bathed the sur- 

 rounding scenery in most wonderful tones of colour, almost like 

 the northern lights. I sadly regretted the absence of a painter 

 in our party, for the scene would have formed a subject worthy 

 of an artist's greatest skill. 



The air grew icy cold as night fell. A violent breeze sprang 

 up and gave our unprotected tents such a shaking that Grauer, 

 for one, capsized with his bed whilst reposing in his " Tower of 

 Pisa "-like tent. The poor fellow crept out of the entrance 

 shivering with cold and calling for assistance. Dense layers 

 of fog crept across the mountain slope and swept over our heads. 



