208 
AN AFRICAN LUNCHEON. 
had to be pulled out of the grasses. A mile of this 
disagreeable wading, with a mid-day sun on the equa- 
tor, was dreadfully fatiguing. On getting out of 
the swamp, we found the country flat and grassy, with 
cleared cultivated spots and huts. Here, in the shade 
of some plantain, while resting till the loads arrived, 
I saw Mariboo's wife enter the houses, quite alone, 
bringing out a large bundle, which she placed on the 
ground, and she was immediately surrounded by her 
servant-girl and two Waganda. I also made one of 
the party. The bundle contained boiled plantain, 
sweet potato, and a species of solanum — the dinner of 
the people whose house she had entered! All seemed 
to enjoy it so much, eating it in such a refined way, 
with a leaf in their fingers to prevent them getting 
burnt, that the little woman, without any Hindoo cere- 
mony, enticed me to join them, and I never made a 
better luncheon. Everything was cooked in the most 
savoury way, and I learned that African cooking is 
as cleanly and quite as wholesome as our own. It 
seemed strange that we should be so calm and un- 
concerned, when the tall spears of the inhabitants 
watching our movements were seen in the distance ; 
but Mrs Mariboo must have known that the natives 
dared not attack any party belonging to the king. 
The journey from Katonga Bay to the capital of 
Uganda — named Kibuga — was without exception the 
most disagreeable I ever made. Climbing over hills is 
bad enough for a lame person, but when a broad miry 
bog runs between each range, and there is no means of 
getting through it but by sinking into mud and water at 
every step, disgust is superadded. Most of the valleys 
were a quarter of a mile wide ; others were square, 
