Mkushi to Broken Hill 



some thousand feet below us, in which nestled an 

 island of palms and other trees, was suddenly- 

 revealed through an opening in the forest. This 

 glade looked as if it had been expressly laid out 

 by nature to be the foreground of the highland 

 chateau of some future millionaire, who in days to 

 come may elect to settle amid these beautiful 

 surroundings. 



Our inspection of the Wulangulu Hills was a 

 cursory one indeed, but it led us to think that there 

 was in and around them a glorious country well 

 fitted to be the home of a thriving white popu- 

 lation. 



Unfortunately it came on to pour with rain 

 shortly before we reached the summit of the pass, 

 and it was consequently under somewhat depressing 

 circumstances that we crossed the watershed which 

 separates the basin of the Zambesi and the Congo. 

 The altitude was about five thousand five hundred 

 feet, and we estimated that the cliffs on either side 

 of us rose three or four hundred feet higher. On 

 the southern side the descent was very gradual, and 

 our path led us — so far as we could see for the 

 pouring rain — along what might almost be described 

 as a succession of broad terraces, on which were 

 growing rows and rows of wild fruit trees. They 

 seemed to have been planted by nature to resemble 

 the trees in an orchard. Oval wild cherries and 

 round purple plums just ripe, with green kernels and 

 a peculiar aromatic flavour not unpleasant to taste, 

 abounded; as also a fruit, looking like a crab apple, 

 with four large seeds inside, soft yellow flesh, and 



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