ON THE MARCH 



We did not know many of them by name, nor did 

 we desire to; but were content with the impression 

 of vivid flashing movement and colour. Various 

 monkeys swung, leaped and galloped slowly away 

 before our advance; pausing to look back at us 

 curiously, the ruffs of fur standing out all around 

 their little black faces. The lower half of the forest 

 jungle, however, had no spaciousness at all, but a 

 certain breathless intimacy. Great leaved plants 

 as tall as little trees, and trees as small as big plants, 

 bound together by vines, made up the "deep im- 

 penetrable jungle" of our childhood imagining. 

 Here were rustlings, sudden scurryings, half-caught 

 glimpses, once or twice a crash as some greater 

 animal made off. Here and there through the thicket 

 wandered well beaten trails, wide, but low, so that 

 to follow them one would have to bend double. 

 These were the paths of rhinoceroses. The air smelt 

 warm and moist and earthy, like the odour of a 

 greenhouse. 



We skirted this jungle until it gave way to let 

 the plain down to the river. Then, in an open grove 

 of acacias, and fairly on the river's bank, we pitched 

 our tents. 



These acacia trees were very noble big chaps, with 

 many branches and a thick shade. In their season 

 they are wonderfully blossomed with white, with 



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