Their story
confirmed me in my opinion that Pongo-land is not really an island,
but is connected on the further side with the continent by some ridge
or swamp. If we had been obliged to stop much longer among the Mazitu,
I would have satisfied myself as to this matter by going to look. But
that chance never came to me until some years later when, under
curious circumstances, I was again destined to visit this part of
Africa.
To return to my story. On the day following this discussion as to our
departure we all breakfasted very early as there was a great deal to
be done. There was a dense mist that morning such as in these Mazitu
uplands often precedes high, hot wind from the north at this season of
the year, so dense indeed that it was impossible to see for more than
a few yards. I suppose that this mist comes up from the great lake in
certain conditions of the weather. We had just finished our breakfast
and rather languidly, for the thick, sultry air left me unenergetic, I
told one of the Zulus to see that the two donkeys and the white ox
which I had caused to be brought into the town in view of our near
departure and tied up by our huts, were properly fed.
Pages:
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553