In Wildest Africa -^ 



a few steps away from the sustaining river. The abun- 

 dance of fish In the river Is tremendous in Its wilder 

 reaches — Inexhaustible, it would seem, despite the thousands 

 of animal enemies. The river continually overflows its 

 banks, and the resulting swamps give such endless oppor- 

 tunities for spawning that at times every channel Is alive 

 with fry and Inconceivable multitudes of small fishes. 



It is only here and there and for short stretches that 

 the river Is lost In impenetrable thickets. Marvellous 

 are those serried ranks of trees ! marvellous, too, the 

 sylvan galleries through which more usually It shapes Its 

 way ! They take the eye captive and seem to withhold 

 some unsuspected secret, some strange riddle, behind their 

 solid mass of succulent foliage. It is strange that these 

 primeval trees should still survive In all their strength with 

 all the parasitic plants and creepers that cling to them, 

 strangling them In their embrace. You would almost say 

 that they lived on but as a prop to support the plants and 

 creepers in their fight for life. Convolvuli, white and 

 violet, stoop forward over the water, and the golden 

 yellow acacia blossoms brighten the picture. 



In the more open reaches dragonflies and butterflies 

 glisten all around us in the moist atmosphere. A grass- 

 green tree-snake glides swiftly through the branches of a 

 shrub close by. A Waran ( Waramis niloticits) runs 

 to the water with a strange sudden rustle through 

 the parched foliage. Everywhere are myriads of insects. 

 Wherever you look, the woods teem with life. These 

 woods screen the river from the neighbouring velt, 

 the uniformity of which is but seldom broken in upon by 



