120 
THE KILIMA NJARO EXPEDITION. 
Each one of these spreading buttresses is separatedfrom 
its neighbours by a ravine, which, as you ascend it, 
will gradually narrow and narrow until it disappears, 
and the two diverging spurs of the mountain converge 
into the parent mass, so that the general effect of 
Kilima-njaro from the south would suggest a tree-trunk 
poised on its spreading roots. In each ravine there 
is a rivulet, and along the crest of each buttress, or it 
may be somewhat to the side, meanders an artificially- 
trained stream, diverted from the rivulet at some higher 
fountain or waterfall, and carried in a gentle descent 
along the brow of the hill. This, of course, is the 
handiwork of man, but so industrious have been at 
varying times the Bantu inhabitants of Kilima-njaro, 
that there is scarcely a spur descending from the 
southern base of the mountain that is unprovided with 
the irrigating channel—or, it may be, three or four 
channels at different elevations—running along** its 
sloping crest or flanks, and keeping its terraced 
gardens supplied with water. In those parts where 
wars have devastated the country, and where the hills 
are no longer cultivated or inhabited, these former 
runnels of water still remain, although from want of 
care the channels may have dried up and become turfed 
over. 
In half an hour I had fixed on the site for my settle¬ 
ment, and remained there alone to guard the first 
instalment of my goods while my men returned to 
bring the rest. By the end of the afternoon every¬ 
thing had safely arrived, and for the first time during 
many weeks I knew what it was to be free from care, 
and be able to enjoy an afternoon of idleness. I no 
longer cared now whether the men of Babai ran away 
or not. My goods were safely landed at my destina- 
