OUR SAFARI 



following morning at five a.m., when we again started 

 ahead. Incredible as it may seem to many who do or 

 do not know the lake, I must own to having felt a slight 

 sensation of mal-de-mer, for during the evening a gentle 

 breeze had sprung up after we had left the gulf and entered 

 the lake itself, making the vessel pitch rather heavily, 

 and although I have travelled some thousands of miles at 

 sea, it takes very little to upset me. 



The lake is something like 26,500 square miles in area, 

 and if you happen to get in a stiff breeze, it is possible 

 to enjoy the motion of a boat in a choppy sea in the Bay. 

 I am told that a gale on the lake is something to witness, 

 for huge seas sometimes get up during a big storm, worthv 

 of the great Australian Bight. The lake is studded with 

 numerous islands, from which the Government have 

 removed the inhabitants, owing to the terrible ravages 

 of the dreaded sleeping-sickness. It seemed hard to 

 believe that these beautiful shores, with soft green grass 

 and a wealth of trees, were sheltering death in its most 

 terrible form. In years gone by, peaceful villages stood 

 nestled amidst the foliage. From the wooded banks 

 below, quaint canoes made of planks and fibre darted 

 across every cove or creek. Everywhere one found a 

 laughing, fearless people, as wild as their surroundings. 

 Alas ! now the hush of death has fallen over the islands. 

 The very birds seem to shun the smiling grassy slopes 

 and sheltering trees. No longer the thin blue columns 

 of smoke curl heavenwards from the camp fires. The 

 deep notes of native drums rolling away far into the 

 distance, sending their message across the dark moonlit 

 waters, are heard no more. Reluctantly the people have 

 left their homes, driven out by that most terrible of 

 insect scourges, the Tsetse Fly. Fish, water birds, croco- 

 diles, are all shunned as food. Everything is left to its 

 own. King Tsetse reigns supreme. 



We reached Entebbe at midday on Monday. Here, 



13 



