68 
In the Heart of Africa 
at botany—the lobelia gib err oa Hemsl.y which rises up like im¬ 
mense candles, often to the height of a man. A powerful hollow 
stem, more like a trunk, bearing narrow, reversed, spear-shaped 
leaves, 40 to 50 centimetres in length, crowded together rosette¬ 
like, and above these a long, thick spike of green, or pale blue 
blossoms, resembling immense cylindrical sweepers. The measure¬ 
ments of one species were: leafless lower stem, 2.30 metres; 
leafed part, 1.25 metres; spike, 1.85 metres; together, 5.40 
metres. Later I found specimens of more than 7 metres at 
Kwidschwi. When I first espied these strange shapes in the 
gorge at Katandaganja my heart beat fast at the realisation of a 
long-hoped-for sight, a feeling that is comparable only to that 
of a hunter at the first sight of some rare game. Later on their 
appearance was quite an indifferent everyday occurrence, for they 
are typical phenomena in all the mountainous districts from 
Lake Kiwu to Mount Ruwenzori. 
“ Charming as this fertile and luxuriant green wilderness of 
brake-fern was, however, the pleasure it afforded was marred by 
the thought of its origin. Where it now covers the mountain¬ 
side, not long ago there grew a proud forest of noble trees, which 
were ruthlessly hacked and burned down to make room for a 
few miserable pea-fields. The immediate effect of this wilful 
destruction could be seen in all its mournful nakedness on the 
edge of the forest—an utterly devastated zone. A few isolated 
giants, whose lives had for some reason been spared, still 
towered aloft; some still resplendent in all their beauty, others 
stretching out their sterile, fire-blackened, or weather-blanched 
and withered trunks as if in complaint to Heaven. 
“ In further evidence of this fact I quote the following passage 
from a report of one of the members of the Urubengera Evan¬ 
gelical Mission at Mecklenburg Creek, which happened to fall 
into my hands: 
“ ‘ When I arrived at this forest (Bugonde) I experienced a 
certain feeling of sadness. You must know that certain 
“ patriarchs ” dwell here—one always more ancient and hoary- 
headed than the others—who systematically devastate all that is 
