Thank Goodness He Has Made A Table, And A Bench, And A
Washhand-Stand Out Of Planks For His Spare Room, Which He Kindly
Places At My Disposal; And The Fatherland Has Evidently Stood Him An
Iron Bedstead And A Mattress For It.
But the Fatherland is not
spoiling or cosseting this man to an extent that will enervate him
in the least.
The mist clears off in the evening about five, and the surrounding
scenery is at last visible. Fronting the house there is the cleared
quadrangle, facing which on the other three sides are the lines of
very dilapidated huts, and behind these the ground rises steeply,
the great S.E. face of Mungo Mah Lobeh. It looks awfully steep when
you know you have got to go up it. This station at Buea is 3,000
feet above sea-level, which explains the hills we have had to come
up. The mountain wall when viewed from Buea is very grand, although
it lacks snowcap or glacier, and the highest summits of Mungo are
not visible because we are too close under them, but its enormous
bulk and its isolation make it highly impressive. The forest runs
up it in a great band above Buea, then sends up great tongues into
the grass belt above. But what may be above this grass belt I know
not yet, for our view ends at the top of the wall of the great S.E.
crater. My men say there are devils and gold up beyond, but the
German authorities do not support this view.
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