The Eastern Congo 



old vegetation, preferring it to the big tent I had been at 

 such pains to erect for them, and from which I named the 

 place Big Tent Camp. 



I now selected eight of the strongest men from my bunch 

 of carriers and instructed them to be ready the following 

 morning to accompany me on the last climb to the top of 

 Ulimbi Mountain, supplying each with a blanket apiece. 

 The night was cold, but by no means uncomfortably so, 

 and although the day dawned mistily as is usual at these 

 elevations, there was promise of fine weather in the snatches 

 of sunlight to be seen, as we ploughed our way up the last 

 increasingly steep ascent. 



A heather fire is the last thing, as I thought, that would 

 have to be encountered in this damp and cold region, but 

 as in Africa it is the unexpected that has to be looked for, 

 this is what occurred and nearly proved our undoing. 



Being careful to husband the strength of my remaining 

 porters and the morning being extremely cold and misty, 

 I allowed them at frequent intervals during the ascent, to 

 light fires of heather sticks and warm themselves. I was, 

 therefore, a considerable distance ahead of my men and had 

 just reached a most wonderful alpine garden of senecios 

 and lobelias, and, this being the first of its kind I had ever 

 seen, stood examining the beautiful foliage, oblivious to all 

 else, until I became aware of what I took to be the roar of 

 the wind. Not taking much notice of this at first and having 

 my net with me, I set about catching some of the diurnal 

 moths that abound here and whilst thus engaged I caught 

 sight for the first time, of a sheet of flame and smoke below, 

 which, fanned by the strong wind was tearing up the slope 

 towards me, making the crackling roar that I took to be 



138 



