[Celix-proyecto] {Spam?} way, sprang most splendidly into v

Sun Mar 21 11:21:52 CET 2010

Ear the
base of the snowy peaks of Ruwenzori without knowing they were even in the neighborhood of great mountains, and have come back and
denied their existence. [Sidenote:
Across Country] The broken country between the streams was difficult.
Underneath was a thick elastic moss in which the foot sank three or four inches at every step and that makes toilsome
travelling. The mosquitoes were a constant annoyance.
But the abundant bird life upon this open moorland, continually

reminding one as it did of moorlands

in the north of England or of Scotland, was full of interest. Ptarmigan, half changed from their snowy plumage to the brown
of summer, and presenting a curious piebald appearance, were

there in great numbers, cackling their guttural cry with its concluding notes closely resembling the "ko-ax, ko-ax" of the Frogs' Chorus in the comedy of Aristophanes; snipe whistled and curlews whirled
all about us. Half-way across to the McKinley Fork

it began to rain, thunder-peal succeeding thunder-peal, and each crash announcing a heavier downpour. Soon we were all wet through, and then the rain turned to hail that fell smartly until all the moss was white with it,
and that gave place to torrents of rain again. Dog packs

and men's packs were alike wet, and no one of us had a dry stitch on him
when we reached the banks of the McKinley Fork and the old spacious hunting
tent that stands there in which we were to spend the night. Rather hopelessly
we hung our bedding to dry on ropes strung about some trees, and our wet clothing around the stove. By taking
turns all the night in sitting up, to keep a fire going,
we managed to get our clothes dried by morning, but the bedding was
wet as ever. Fortun
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