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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



"higher than Ruwenzori, and ten miles 

 would more than cover the extent of its 

 glaciers. 



The first European to see Ruwenzori 

 was probably Sir Samuel Baker, who 

 saw what he called the "Blue Mountains 

 to the south" during his exploration of 

 Lake Albert in 1864; but it was not until 

 1887, when Stanley came from the Congo 

 on the Emin Relief Expedition, that the 

 mountains were definitely recognized as 

 a snow range, and for very nearly twenty 

 years more they remained as little known 

 and as mysterious as ever. 



climbs in the; ruwenzori 



One of the most remarkable features 

 of Ruwenzori is the abrupt change that 

 is often seen from one kind cf vegeta- 

 tion to another. Above the tropical 

 forest, which extends to about 8,000 feet, 

 is a more or less constant zone of bracken 

 and giant heath-trees, and above this, 

 with a first sprinkling of Podocarpus and 

 other large trees, begins the zone of bam- 

 boos which are found growing up to 

 11,000 feet, though their denser growth 

 occurs between 9,000 and 10,000 feet. 



The bamboos were so thick that we 

 could not force a way through them, and 

 cutting was too slow a process, so the 

 natives adopted the plan of bending the 

 bamboos down and walking over the top 

 of them, which rather unusual method of 

 procedure we followed for some time. 



After struggling for miles through the 

 dense jungle of bamboo, where all sense 

 of direction was quickly lost, it was a re- 

 lief beyond measure to come out occa- 

 sionally onto tolerably level ground, 

 where one could at all events get a 

 glimpse here and there through the fog 

 and rain, even though it meant exchang- 

 ing the slippery slopes for swamps and 

 sloughs, where the easiest path was knee- 

 deep in mud and water. 



The end of our day's journey was a 

 steep black precipice, 400 or 500 feet 

 high, called Kichuchu. At the foot of 

 the precipice, which in one place was 

 slightly overhanging, we found a small 

 space, a few yards only in extent, of com- 

 paratively dry ground. It quaked omi- 

 nously, like thin ice, at a heavy tread, but 



one does not employ the ordinary stand- 

 ards of wet and dry in such places. There 

 was not room enough to pitch a tent, so 

 we unfurled our beds and laid them close 

 to the foot of the cliff, and as far as 

 might be from the constant cascade of 

 water, which splashed into pools from the 

 overhanging rock. 



The most notable feature of the camp 

 at Kichuchu was the nocturnal chorus 

 of the Ruwenzori ghosts. It was always 

 said by the natives that there were devils 

 high up in the mountains, and any one 

 of a superstitious turn of mind who has 

 slept or has tried to sleep at Kichuchu 

 could well believe it. So soon as it be- 

 came dark, first one and then another 

 shrill cry broke the stillness ; then the 

 burden was taken up by one high up on 

 the cliff overhead, then by others on the 

 other side, until the whole valley was 

 ringing with screams. Various theories 

 were advanced to account for it; frogs, 

 owls, and devils were among the sug- 

 gestions, but the natives declared that the 

 noises were made by hyraxes, and we 

 discovered afterwards that they were 

 right. It is possible that each actual cry 

 was not very loud, but the steep hillsides 

 and the bare wall of the cliff acted as 

 sounding-boards, which intensified the 

 noise to an incredible extent. It was one 

 of the most mournful and blood-curdling 

 sounds I have ever heard, and it caused 

 an uncomfortable thrill, even after we 

 had been assured that it had not a super- 

 natural origin. 



The upper Mubuku Valley — that is to 

 say, from Kichuchu (9,833 feet) to the 

 foot of the Mubuku glacier (13,682 feet) 

 — is built in a series of gigantic steps of 

 from 500 to 1,000 feet in height, between 

 which lie tolerably level terraces of from 

 one to two miles in length. The first of 

 these steps is made by the cliff at the 

 foot of which lies the rock-shelter of 

 Kichuchu. The path leads up a sloping 

 rift in the rock face, in some places so 

 well sheltered that the dust of ages lies 

 thick upon the ground, but more gen- 

 erally it is nothing but the bed of a 

 stream, and is exposed to the drippings 

 from the rocks above. A climb of about 

 an hour brings one to the first great ter- 



