THE LADO ENCLAVE 



the cross-poles had snapped in two. When I suggested 

 this to them they shook their heads and said a great 

 storm had blown the tent down. Times without number 

 I had impressed upon them the necessity of slackening 

 out the ropes when rain was seen to be approaching, 

 but no, they could not or would not see the force of the 

 argument. 



The next day saw me preparing for another trip, this 

 time to the south-west of the Enclave of Lado. The 

 natives near Wadelai on the Uganda side seemed to be 

 in a state of unrest, and complained of raids from the 

 natives on the opposite bank of the Nile. I spent a 

 couple of days at Wadelai where I had some good sport 

 with the hippo on the north-east shore of Lake Rube — 

 on the Congo or Enclave side of the lake — and was 

 fortunate enough to bag two cows, and after erecting a 

 proper grass hut for the stores I set out for the countrv 

 near the Mullah, to reach which I estimated would 

 occupy about a week. Part of the first day's march led 

 us along the steep banks of the Ara river which flows 

 into the Nile just below Wadelai, and derives its source 

 from the Divide. It averages about fifty yards in breadth, 

 and in flood time it has a treacherously strong current, 

 like all the rivers in Africa when swollen by many rains. 

 To the casual observer on its banks the muddy waters 

 appear to swirl gently by, but in fording it one finds in 

 the centre a strong undercurrent which strikes one with 

 terrific force. The whole country was inundated by 

 the recent floods, and the guides, two villagers from 

 Wadelai who had expressed a desire to come out to the 

 Mullah with me, lost the path and for hours we were 

 wandering about knee-deep in water that had been 

 stagnant for weeks. Coarse grass cut my bare knees, 

 and the thorn bushes lent an additional touch of dis- 

 comfort and pain as even - now and then I brushed 

 through a clump of them. 



"3 i 



