DOWN THE LOGONE RIVER 



117 



We had already prepared for bed, but sleep would 

 have been impossible, so we wrapped ourselves up in 

 our dressing-gowns and took to the canoe. In it we 

 crossed to an island in mid-stream, where we tied up, 

 and spent at least a healthy night, lulled by the lap 

 of water as it washed against the boat, the peace 

 broken only by an occasional quacking of duck, as 

 one of their number fell victim to a crocodile. 



Shaped Anklet. 



Bean Anklets, worn by Dancers. 



The next day we paddled on. A vast swamp 

 separates the Banana from their Kotoko neighbours. 

 It is the breeding-ground of water-birds, and regu- 

 larly at dawn and sunset we heard a rushing sound 

 as of wind, and looking upwards would see high in 

 the heavens flights of geese and duck as they winged 

 their way to or from the marsh up and down the 

 Logone river. Roan antelope and gazelle stood on 

 the bank, gazing at us as we floated down stream, 

 and baboon would swing themselves down from 

 branches and grin as we went by. Sometimes the 

 temptation was more than we could resist ; then we 

 would land, to find almost invariably a wealth of 

 spoor, and every now and again a big black hole 

 in the mud, the home of some crocodile. A few 

 cactus - like lianes hung from scrub - trees. Red- 

 stemmed mimosas, covered with a wealth of golden 



