Even for light-footed Wanyamwezi pagazis
it was anything but comfortable to traverse. Only a professional
tight-rope performer could have carried a load across with ease.
To travel over an African bridge requires, first, a long leap
from land to the limb of a tree (which may or may not be covered
by water), followed by a long jump ashore. With 70 lbs. weight on
his back, the carrier finds it difficult enough. Sometimes he is
assisted by ropes extemporized from the long convolvuli which hang
from almost every tree, but not always, these being deemed
superfluities by the Washensi.
Fortunately the baggage was transferred without a single accident,
and though the torrent was strong, the donkeys were dragged through
the flood by vigorous efforts and much objurgation without a
casualty. This performance of crossing the Ungerengeri occupied
fully five hours, though energy, abuse, and fury enough were
expended for an army.
Reloading and wringing our clothes dry, we set out from the
horrible neighbourhood of the river, with its reek and filth,
in a northerly direction, following a road which led up to easy
and level ground. Two obtruding hills were thus avoided on our
left, and after passing them we had shut out the view of the
hateful valley.
I always found myself more comfortable and lighthearted while
travelling than when chafing and fretting in camp at delays which
no effort could avoid, and consequently I fear that some things,
while on a march, may be tinted somewhat stronger than their
appearance or merit may properly warrant. But I thought that the
view opening before us was much more agreeable than the valley of
Simbamwenni with all its indescribable fertility. It was a series
of glades opening one after another between forest clumps of young
trees, hemmed in distantly by isolated peaks and scattered
mountains. Now and again, as we crested low eminences we caught
sight of the blue Usagara mountains, bounding the horizon westerly
and northerly, and looked down upon a vast expanse of plain which
lay between.
At the foot of the lengthy slope, well-watered by bubbling
springs and mountain rills, we found a comfortable khambi with
well-made huts, which the natives call Simbo. It lies just two
hours or five miles north-west of the Ungerengeri crossing. The
ground is rocky, composed principally of quartzose detritus swept
down by the constant streams. In the neighbourhood of these grow
bamboo, the thickest of which was about two and a half inches in
diameter; the "myombo," a very shapely tree, with a clean trunk
like an ash, the "imbite," with large, fleshy leaves like the
"mtamba," sycamore, plum-tree, the "ugaza," ortamarisk, and the
"mgungu," a tree containing several wide branches with small
leaves clustered together in a clump, and the silk-cotton tree.
