He assured me I should see the
difference between them and Egaja the Good, and I thanked him and
gave him his dash when we parted; but told him as a friend, I feared
some alteration must take place, and some time elapse before he saw
a regular rush of pilgrim worshippers of Virtue coming into even
Egaja the Good, though it stood just as good a chance and better
than most towns I had seen in Africa.
We went on into the gloom of the Great Forest again; that forest
that seemed to me without end, wherein, in a lazy, hazy-minded sort
of way, I expected to wander through by day and drop in at night to
a noisy savage town for the rest of my days.
We climbed up one hill, skirted its summit, went through our
athletic sports over sundry timber falls, and struck down into the
ravine as usual. But at the bottom of that ravine, which was
exceeding steep, ran a little river free from swamp. As I was
wading it I noticed it had a peculiarity that distinguished it from
all the other rivers we had come through; and then and there I sat
down on a boulder in its midst and hauled out my compass.
