HUNTING AND HUNTED IN BELGIAN CONGO 



of them. The war paint of vermilion-coloured pig- 

 ments which is smeared all over their bodies adds to 

 the hideousness of these savages, darting from rock 

 to rock, hiding behind trees, lying hidden in the foliage 

 overhead, waging war with all. Tragedy follows tragedy 

 behind those Bulegga mountains in the Congo, to the 

 south of which lie the snow-capped crests of rugged 

 Ruwenzori. 



Slowly as the great orb rose in the east the chilly 

 atmosphere of dawn gave way to shimmering mists of 

 heat that gradually hid the western range from view. 

 The lake appeared as a boundless ocean but for the 

 nearest point in the north-west, from which the land 

 continued to run and dwindle toward the Nile, where 

 the shores are hidden in the dense papyrus growth 

 lining the banks for a great distance. About a mile 

 from the end of the sandspit on which Butiaba stands, I 

 came upon a pretty little bungalow standing under two 

 very large and beautiful palms, only a stone's throw 

 from the water edge. Rapping on the door, I came face 

 to face with Mr. Reynolds, the engineer of the Uganda 

 Marine on Lake Albert and the Nile. From him I 

 learnt that it would be impossible to get away for a 

 day or two. The James Martin had sailed the day 

 before. The Good Intent, the only boat in port at the 

 moment, was under repair, having been damaged by 

 hippopotamus up the river. So here we had to remain 

 until the other boats returned from their respective 

 trips up to Nimule, Koba, and Mahagi. Let me recount 

 another instance which proves how small a place the 

 world is. While speaking of South Africa, as we sat 

 over the breakfast table in his house, Mr. Reynolds 



happened to mention a Mr. B , whose name is a very 



uncommon one — but which I happened to recognize. 

 It turned out that I had spent nearly two years under 

 the same roof with B in Bloemfontein. That fact 



34 



