Wambuba Cannibals 



we caught a view of the resplendent snow-caps of the Ruwen- 

 zori mountains as we mounted some outstanding spur of 

 the Great Rift and then again came down to the curving 

 palm-clad banks of the rushing Semhki. The early morning 

 in the mist-hung forest perhaps gave the most wonderful 

 effects of all. At this hour one seems to walk in an en- 

 chanted land, for then the sunbeams push slantwise through 

 the pearly mist at all angles, forming long ladders of light 

 through the dim trees, and seeming to surround and smother 

 the passing traveller as if in a giant cobweb, as he peers his 

 way along. 



After climbing the escarpment and traversing much 

 difficult and broken country, we found ourselves for the last 

 time on the Congo-Nile divide, at the southernmost limit 

 of a plateau country, a day's march south of the old Belgian 

 post of Boga. Here, extensive areas of long elephant grass 

 were interspersed with patches of the now receding forest, 

 the nights too were cold and the air exhilarating after the 

 oppressiveness of the valley. 



On this southern arm of the Bahuku plateau stands 

 Serimani's village which we had now reached, and west of 

 this lies a wild, broken and unknown forest-clad country, 

 styled for the want of a better name " Marsula's country," 

 (Marsula being a powerful chief residing there). This is 

 the stronghold of the untamed element of the Wambuba 

 cannibals. 



Having made a friend of the chief Serimani by shooting 

 an elephant that was laying waste his young maize crop 

 and presenting him with its tusks, he volunteered to guide 

 me into it and show me a place where the elephants had big 

 ivory and a white man had never been. 



175 



