Cheered By This
Pleasing Prospect, We Marched On Forgetful Of Our Scratches, Down
The Side Of The Hill, And Down The Foot Slope Of It, Until We Struck
The Edge Of The Swamp.
We skirted this for some mile or so, going
N.E. Then we struck into the swamp, to reach what we had regarded
as the Rembwe river.
We found ourselves at the edge of that open
line we had seen from the mountain. Not standing, because you don't
so much as try to stand on mangrove roots unless you are a born
fool, and then you don't stand long, but clinging, like so many
monkeys, to the net of aerial roots which surrounded us, looking
blankly at a lake of ink-black slime. It was half a mile across,
and some miles long. We could not see either the west or east
termination of it, for it lay like a rotten serpent twisted between
the mangroves. It never entered into our heads to try to cross it,
for when a swamp is too deep for mangroves to grow in it, "No bottom
lib for them dam ting," as a Kruboy once said to me, anent a small
specimen of this sort of ornament to a landscape. But we just
looked round to see which direction we had better take. Then I
observed that the roots, aerial and otherwise, were coated in mud,
and had no leaves on them, for a foot above our heads. Next I
noticed that the surface of the mud before us had a sort of quiver
running through it, and here and there it exhibited swellings on its
surface, which rose in one place and fell in another. No need for
an old coaster like me to look at that sort of thing twice to know
what it meant, and feeling it was a situation more suited to Mr.
Stanley than myself, I attempted to emulate his methods and
addressed my men. "Boys," said I, "this beastly hole is tidal, and
the tide is coming in. As it took us two hours to get to this
sainted swamp, it's time we started out, one time, and the nearest
way. It's to be hoped the practice we have acquired in mangrove
roots in coming, will enable us to get up sufficient pace to get out
on to dry land before we are all drowned." The boys took the hint.
Fortunately one of the Ajumbas had been down in Ogowe, it was Gray
Shirt, who "sabed them tide palaver." The rest of them, and the
Fans, did not know what tide meant, but Gray Shirt hustled them
along and I followed, deeply regretting that my ancestors had parted
prematurely with prehensile tails, for four limbs, particularly when
two of them are done up in boots and are not sufficient to enable
one to get through a mangrove swamp network of slimy roots rising
out of the water, and swinging lines of aerial ones coming down to
the water a la mangrove, with anything approaching safety. Added to
these joys were any quantity of mangrove flies, a broiling hot sun,
and an atmosphere three-quarters solid stench from the putrefying
ooze all round us. For an hour and a half thought I, Why did I come
to Africa, or why, having come, did I not know when I was well off
and stay in Glass? Before these problems were settled in my mind we
were close to the true land again, with the water under us licking
lazily among the roots and over our feet.
We did not make any fuss about it, but we meant to stick to dry land
for some time, and so now took to the side of a hill that seemed
like a great bubble coming out of the swamp, and bore steadily E.
until we found a path. This path, according to the nature of paths
in this country, promptly took us into another swamp, but of a
different kind to our last - a knee-deep affair, full of beautiful
palms and strange water plants, the names whereof I know not. There
was just one part where that abomination, pandanus, had to be got
through, but, as swamps go, it was not at all bad. I ought to
mention that there were leeches in it, lest I may be thought too
enthusiastic over its charms. But the great point was that the
mountains we got to on the other side of it, were a good solid
ridge, running, it is true, E. and W., while we wanted to go N.;
still on we went waiting for developments, and watching the great
line of mangrove-swamp spreading along below us to the left hand,
seeing many of the lines in its dark face, which betokened more of
those awesome slime lagoons that we had seen enough of at close
quarters.
About four o'clock we struck some more plantations, and passing
through these, came to a path running north-east, down which we
went. I must say the forest scenery here was superbly lovely.
Along this mountain side cliff to the mangrove-swamp the sun could
reach the soil, owing to the steepness and abruptness and the
changes of curves of the ground; while the soft steamy air which
came up off the swamp swathed everything, and although unpleasantly
strong in smell to us, was yet evidently highly agreeable to the
vegetation. Lovely wine palms and rafia palms, looking as if they
had been grown under glass, so deliciously green and profuse was
their feather-like foliage, intermingled with giant red woods, and
lovely dark glossy green lianes, blooming in wreaths and festoons of
white and mauve flowers, which gave a glorious wealth of beauty and
colour to the scene. Even the monotony of the mangrove-belt
alongside gave an additional charm to it, like the frame round a
picture.
As we passed on, the ridge turned N. and the mangrove line narrowed
between the hills.
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