however, visible, for the grass forms a complete cover. Again the grunt
with a suspicious after-sniff and at the same moment Chikaia, who is
carrying my gun snaps his fingers--the usual sign to indicate game--and
beckons me to follow. I endeavour to do so, and at once sink in the bog
up to the knees, but fortunately keep my rifle dry. By clutching the
grass, I get out and we follow the spoor of the hippo as rapidly as
possible. This is very clearly marked, for the grass has been recently
thrust aside and there are great holes in the soft mud over a foot wide
and deep, made by the great feet of the beast. These holes were in pairs
lying close together, showing that the hippo was galloping as he passed
and unfortunately they led straight to the river.

Next day we leave the Pool and enter a part of the river called the
Channel. Here there are no islands and both banks are visible all the
time, the width not being more than a mile in some places. A low range
of hills covered with acacias or coarse grass, exists on each side. As
usual, we stop at a Wood Post to take fuel on board. This is cut in logs
three or four feet long and stacked in heaps about the same in width and
height. Sticks are placed in the ground connected by lines at the
required height and the logs are laid in rows until the space is filled.
The result is a cubic yard of wood known in the Congo as a _bras_, but
the bras differs in size and price considerably, in some cases the cost
being 5 mitakos and in others double that amount. A native can easily
collect a bras of wood in the forest and carry it to the bank in a day
and in some of the Wood Posts fifty or sixty natives are employed. Even
then however, the demand for wood by the big steamers is sometimes
greater than the supply.

At 6 p.m. every day the steamer stops for the night and makes fast to a
tree on the bank. All the native passengers at once go ashore, light