994 A JOURNEY UP THE RIVER OONGO. 
a thirsty world, but the reckless destroyers of fragile 
beauty. Against the piled-up banks of sullen cloud the 
lightning blazes in silent, vivid wrath, or, moved to 
ereater vehemence of anger, tears in zigzags over the 
hillsides and deals out sudden death. Between these 
stormy outbursts come intervals of tearful repentance. 
The battered flowers le low, branches and leaves strew 
the rain-pitted strand, the sky is a pale exhausted blue, 
and Nature, like a passionate woman, seems disposed to 
reeret her violence, and perhaps through the voice of 
some small piping bird falters out her repentance over the 
disordered scene. But she is excited by the ardent sun, 
who is always imbuing the hot air with a feverishness of 
unassuaged desire. There is a lustfulness now in most 
things. ~The crocodiles hoarsely roar at night with strange 
love promptings. The heavy hippopotami pursue their 
mates at sundown with amorous gruntings, crashing 
through the high rank grass. The very grass S itself, once, 
when the rain first came, a tender green and timid 
bladelet, creeping above the ashes of its predecessor, is 
now become an insolent obstruction, with strong and 
knotted stem and razor-bladed leaves, thrusting its many 
flower-heads in your face, a very upstart in vulgar pride. 
Man himself seems swayed by this time of orgie. The 
crops are gathered in, the sugar-cane is cut, and, from its 
juice a heady spirit is made which furnishes the cause and 
excuse of many a wild debauch. It is time that Nature 
put a check upon her- riot; the wanton world must be 
purified with fire. Then ‘the rain ceases, the ground 
dries, the river shrinks. Submerged islands reappear, and 
cut-off pools stagnate. The always-shining sun is quickly | 
preparing the fiery purification. One day a native 
throws a lighted brand among the withered herbage. 
The wind springs up, and an awful blaze roars before it, 
sweeping rapidly over the hills, so rapidly that, while it 
reduces the grass to tinder, it does little more than scorch 
the trees. Then, with the increasing drought, life resumes 
its isoberness. ‘The bull hippopotami skulk in eroups of 
celibates apart from their mates, who, with the presenti- 
