188 FROM THE NIGER TO THE NILE 



the rain into my tent. So I lay abed all the next day 

 and night to shake off my fever and gather fresh strength, 

 recommencing my journey early on August 3. 



The country through which we were passing was flat, 

 covered with low bush and stunted trees, and intersected 

 with a number of streams with banks thickly wooded with 

 tropical growth. The streams, mostly about twelve feet wide, 

 were much swollen by recent storms, and we waded through 

 them, the water reaching as high as the thighs. The evening 

 brought us to Giddan-Duci (the houses by the rock), a pretty 

 little village nestling at the foot of a thickly wooded, rocky 

 hill. The aspect of the landscape now began to change, 

 for we had been gradually ascending, and from the high 

 ground a larger view was obtained. The monotony of the 

 bush was broken by the sight of glades dipping into its surface, 

 and here and there by a tall, lonely cotton-tree, which was 

 clearly defined by its white stem and branches. Occasionally 

 appeared the dark green blot of the umbrella-shaped tree that 

 always marks the gossip-ground of a little village, where the 

 old king sits and calls up the passing wayfarer, bidding him 

 tell the news of the road he has come. 



The country began to be undulating, and ahead of us 

 to the north-east little hills appeared in the middle-distance, 

 lonely stragglers, growing more frequent as they receded to 

 the horizon where they joined the blue mass of the Keffi 

 Hills. At Giddan-Duci, round the foot of the hill, the 

 inhabitants had tilled the soil which was growing rich crops 

 of guinea corn, and of monkey-nuts which have bright green 

 leaves, like the trefoil, close to the ground. These fields 

 attracted a great deal of bird life, and little flocks of glossy 



