64 THE PROVINCE OF TORO 



most enchanting walks of my life. The path wound 

 slowly up the wide valley through woods and fields 

 and large gardens of bananas, crossing here and 

 there a small tributary stream. There was a crisp 

 freshness in the air that was unspeakably delicious, 

 and the roar of the Mubuku, close beside the 

 path, sounded like a triumphal march. The valley 

 narrowed suddenly, and, turning a sharp bend, we 

 came in sight of our journey's end, the camp of the 

 British Museum Expedition, perched high up on a 

 ridge before us. After an hour's climb up the 

 steepest hill they had ever seen, which they pro- 

 tested that they never would be able to get up, the 

 porters put down the loads they had carried for 

 some 250 miles, and, after a good deal of cheering 

 and dancing, departed down the hill more quickly 

 than they came. 



