Lake Kivu 



searchers, and also unexploded live shells and shells dropped 

 by scared porters in hurried flight. One such shell was one 

 day unearthed by a wily Mhutu and after changing hands 

 several times at varying prices, from a bunch of tobacco 

 leaves to a goat, eventually found its way with other 

 pieces of shell into the smelting-pot of a family of native 

 blacksmiths. 



This big shell they judged would make many hoes, axes 

 and spears, and the melting of it was made something of an 

 occasion by the blacksmith, who asked several of his friends 

 to give a hand with the bellows. Now the smelting-pot 

 of the Bahutu is similar to a gigantic earthenware jar, the 

 required heat being generated by blowing on the charcoal 

 through a circle of holes in the bottom. Round this they 

 sat and all being in readiness, the shell and old iron were 

 placed in position and the fire started. The family and 

 friends now joined in and the five or six small bellows were 

 soon blowing merrily away — when, whizz — b-a-n-g ! 



The second week of September, 1919, found us at Kisenji 

 and maturing plans for the exploration of the western and 

 central groups of the Virunga volcanoes and their immediate 

 neighbourhood. 



Kisenji, which I decided to make our headquarters, is 

 in some ways the most beautiful and restful place I know, 

 with just a touch about it reminiscent of the South Seas. 

 Washed by the clear waters of Lake Kivu, buried in palms, 

 gums, fruit-trees and flowers, it stands directly on the sandy 

 foreshore, facing the blue mountains on the other side of 

 the lake. The climate, owing to the high altitude of four 

 thousand eight hundred feet above sea level, is perfect ; 

 it is never too hot and never too cold. Mosquitoes too, and 



55 



