automobile road is in course of construction.

Next morning, we dress by candle light and make a hasty breakfast, in
the midst of which, at 6 a.m., reveille sounds and the troops assemble
in the square in front of the Residency. Half an hour afterwards, the
train starts, and having perched ourselves on the summits of the seats,
we soon reach Sonna Gongo the half-way house for travellers of the
future. Here is a depot for locomotives and carriages and wooden hotels
are being constructed to accommodate travellers who, after August, will
stop here for the night instead of at Tumba.

Leaving Sonna Gongo, the line rapidly searches for a lower level and the
view is magnificent, as a great endless expanse of land is unfolded.
Here and there are banks of smoke caused by the veldt fires and often
close to the railway the high dry grass has been lighted by a chance
spark from an engine, and is burning furiously. We now zigzag down hill
instead of up and far beneath, can be seen the thin line of rails
glistening in the sun like fillets of silk. Having reached this level,
we plunge through inviting looking forests at one time full of
elephants, buffaloes and other game, but practically deserted now save
by monkeys and parrots.

Soon after the train stops at a station where the natives have assembled
to sell fruit and kwanga, a kind of bread made from the flour of the
manioc root and the chief article of native diet. It consists chiefly of
starch and is not unpleasant when fresh and toasted. The natives
however, prefer all food in a high stage of decomposition and it is some
time before the very smell of it ceases to make one feel ill. To see
them eating kwanga fish or the flesh of elephants, monkeys, antelopes or
other animals generally both rotten and raw is most disgusting and