The Ruchuru and Ruindi Plains 



Our porters were now ready and our route mapped out, 

 but before leaving Ruchuru I must say one word in praise 

 of the care and attention that the Belgians have bestowed 

 on the flower and strawberry beds in and around the " town- 

 ship." The flowers were principally roses, and the fact that 

 they grow here so luxuriantly had led one of the Government 

 officials to turn rose-planter for the production of attar of 

 roses. No strawberries grown in the tropics have any 

 flavour, to my mind, but what was lacking in quality in the 

 Ruchuru fruit was well made up for in quantity and nothing 

 could surpass them for jam-making purposes. 



We made a friend in Monsieur Fourget, the manager of 

 the Banque du Congo Beige at Ruchuru, who happily decided 

 to join our " safari " and take a few days' shooting leave. 

 We found him a delightful and entertaining companion and 

 his method of hunting dangerous game — which I will recount 

 later on — fairly " tickled us to death " (as the Americans 

 say). 



We all " got under way " on the morning of the 12th of 

 November, and very soon found ourselves traversing the 

 humid flats, now long with standing grass, that here border 

 the eastern side of the Ruchuru River. After a long and 

 hot trek we crossed the river by a shaky bridge and camped 

 under the Kasali mountains on the other side. 



The following day brought us by an easy and pleasant 

 march to some boiling springs known as Maji-ya-moto. The 

 water, which is too hot to bear the hand in, has its source 

 in several geysers, one throwing up a continuous thin jet of 

 water, and others ejecting it explosively from the rocks at 

 short intervals. As the steaming hot water has only a few 

 hundred yards to flow before it reaches the Ruchuru, it 



lOI 



