We Went Across The River To See Another Cave Entrance On The Other
Bank, Where There Is A Narrow Stretch
Of low rock-covered land at
the foot of the mountains, probably under water in the wet season.
The mouth
Of this other cave is low, between tumbled blocks of rock.
It looked so suspiciously like a short cut to the lower regions,
that I had less exploring enthusiasm about it than even about its
opposite neighbour; although they told me no man had gone down "them
thing." Probably that much-to-be-honoured Frenchman who explored
the other cave, allowed like myself, that if one did want to go from
the Equator to Hades, there were pleasanter ways to go than this.
My Kembe Island man said that just hereabouts were five cave
openings, the two that we had seen and another one we had not, on
land, and two under the water, one of the sub-fluvial ones being
responsible for the whirlpool we met outside the gateway of Boko
Boko.
The scenery above Boko Boko was exceedingly lovely, the river shut
in between its rim of mountains. As you pass up it opens out in
front of you and closes in behind, the closely-set confused mass of
mountains altering in form as you view them from different angles,
save one, Kangwe - a blunt cone, evidently the record of some great
volcanic outburst; and the sandbanks show again wherever the current
deflects and leaves slack water, their bright glistening colour
giving a relief to the scene.
For a long period we paddle by the south bank, and pass a vertical
cleft-like valley, the upper end of which seems blocked by a finely
shaped mountain, almost as conical as Kangwe. The name of this
mountain is Njoko, and the name of the clear small river, that
apparently monopolises the valley floor, is the Ovata. Our peace
was not of long duration, and we were soon again in the midst of a
bristling forest of rock; still the current running was not
dangerously strong, for the river-bed comes up in a ridge, too high
for much water to come over at this season of the year; but in the
wet season this must be one of the worst places. This ridge of rock
runs two-thirds across the Ogowe, leaving a narrow deep channel by
the north bank. When we had got our canoe over the ridge, mostly by
standing in the water and lifting her, we found the water deep and
fairly quiet.
On the north bank we passed by the entrance of the Okana River. Its
mouth is narrow, but, the natives told me, always deep, even in the
height of the dry season. It is a very considerable river, running
inland to the E.N.E. Little is known about it, save that it is
narrowed into a ravine course above which it expands again; the
banks of it are thickly populated by Fans, who send down a
considerable trade, and have an evil reputation. In the main stream
of the Ogowe below the Okana's entrance, is a long rocky island
called Shandi. When we were getting over our ridge and paddling
about the Okana's entrance my ears recognised a new sound. The rush
and roar of the Ogowe we knew well enough, and could locate which
particular obstacle to his headlong course was making him say
things; it was either those immovable rocks, which threw him back in
foam, whirling wildly, or it was that fringe of gaunt skeleton trees
hanging from the bank playing a "pull devil, pull baker" contest
that made him hiss with vexation. But this was an elemental roar.
I said to M'bo: "That's a thunderstorm away among the mountains."
"No, sir," says he, "that's the Alemba."
We paddled on towards it, hugging the right-hand bank again to avoid
the mid-river rocks. For a brief space the mountain wall ceased,
and a lovely scene opened before us; we seemed to be looking into
the heart of the chain of the Sierra del Cristal, the abruptly
shaped mountains encircling a narrow plain or valley before us, each
one of them steep in slope, every one of them forest-clad; one,
whose name I know not unless it be what is sometimes put down as Mt.
Okana on the French maps, had a conical shape which contrasted
beautifully with the more irregular curves of its companions. The
colour down this gap was superb, and very Japanese in the evening
glow. The more distant peaks were soft gray-blues and purples,
those nearer, indigo and black. We soon passed this lovely scene
and entered the walled-in channel, creeping up what seemed an
interminable hill of black water, then through some whirlpools and a
rocky channel to the sand and rock shore of our desired island Kondo
Kondo, along whose northern side tore in thunder the Alemba. We
made our canoe fast in a little cove among the rocks, and landed,
pretty stiff and tired and considerably damp. This island, when we
were on it, must have been about half a mile or so long, but during
the long wet season a good deal of it is covered, and only the
higher parts - great heaps of stone, among which grows a long
branched willow-like shrub - are above or nearly above water. The
Adooma from Kembe Island especially drew my attention to this shrub,
telling me his people who worked the rapids always regarded it with
an affectionate veneration; for he said it was the only thing that
helped a man when his canoe got thrown over in the dreaded Alemba,
for its long tough branches swimming in, or close to, the water are
veritable life lines, and his best chance; a chance which must have
failed some poor fellow, whose knife and leopard-skin belt we found
wedged in among the rocks on Kondo Kondo. The main part of the
island is sand, with slabs and tables of polished rock sticking up
through it; and in between the rocks grew in thousands most
beautiful lilies, their white flowers having a very strong scent of
vanilla and their bright light-green leaves looking very lovely on
the glistening pale sand among the black-gray rock.
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