Through the Semliki Valley 207 
which was in evidence as soon as the ascent commenced, there 
was the matete 4 metres in height, which bent its stalks in 
such a fashion across the narrow way that it was only possible 
to advance as if crawling through a tunnel. Thus the chopping 
knives had in the first instance to hack a way for the loads 
which followed, a work which retarded us so long that we only 
traversed 10 kilometres in five hours. We went at it random 
fashion, hoping that the road taken would lead us to some 
favourable camping site. We had not been fortunate enough to 
secure a guide. All the plantations were deserted, the villages 
empty. 
Finally we accidentally surprised a man in a clearing, who, 
his face distorted with fear, was in the act of vanishing into the 
tall grass. Asked the reason of his fear and that of his fellows, 
he affirmed that our shots of the previous day had induced the 
belief in the people that the “ whites ” had come to do battle. 
The timidity of the population arose from the fact that this 
district had very rarely been visited by Europeans, as most of 
the expeditions to the mountains had started out from the east, 
with Fort Portal as their base. Thus the natives had had no 
opportunity of convincing themselves of the peaceable intentions 
of their European visitors. Stories circulated by the insubor¬ 
dinate and so far unsubjugated chiefs of the mountains had 
no doubt helped to increase their fears. Won over by a 
few presents, the man at last consented to act as our guide, 
and accompanied us some distance through the Butagu valley. 
We halted at an altitude of 1,500 metres. Splendid wine-palms, 
bearing enormous blossoms, with fronds 10 metres in length, 
waved in the air and shaded our tents. 
The ascent, which had been planned for the next morning, 
had to be postponed, as the whole neighbourhood was shrouded 
in mist, and streaming rain blotted out the landscape. I thus 
expressed our mood in my diary: 
“A rainy, hopeless-looking day, forbidding an ascent! 
Everyone in his tent, reading, writing, or trying somehow to 
while away the time. Torrents of rain pouring down the moun- 
