AN AFRICAN SURVEY.

Auckland Star, Volume LXI, Issue 97, 26 April 1930, Page 1 (Supplement)

AN AFRICAN SURVEY.

WORK ON THE ZAMBESI.

~ MIXED CONDITIONS. (By STUART HARRISON.) Roused by' a knock on the door I call "Buya," and in walks a kaffir with early morning tea and breakfast, all in one. The clock says it is 5.30 a.m.. and the thermometer stands at 90 degrees. I stagger out of bed and proceed to don veidt kit, ready for the day's work. Breakfast, in the shape of grape fruit, paw-paw, oranges, coffee and sandwiches, is soon disposed of, the water bag is filled and away we go. As we step outside the building the temperature drops about ten degrees, as the heat retained by the massive brick and concrete walls is considerable. The sun rises over the hills, and immediately the air begins to warm up. On the way out we startle a mob of baboons, a buck or two, and some guinea fowl. Game abounds in, the districts further back, but the presence of the railway and visitors to the Victoria Falls have made this area too civilised for the lions, leopards, antelope, and other big game, which used to rove these forests. Arrived at the scene oi operations we unpack the instruments and commence operations. The principles of engineering surveys are the same as ever, but the accuracy is limited to the activities of the native boys, who have very little brains for this sort of work. They are a picturesque crowd, and speak no English. They are' recruited from various tribes and have a common Esperanto, which is known to us by the name of kitchen-kaffir, and which, with its shortcomings, makes life most difficult for tlie stranger. African Bush. The country we are covering is typical of thousands of square miles, and is a loose sandy soil, broken here and there with outcrops of rock and mineral-bear-in <* strata. It is covered by bush, but not in the sense that New Zealanders would use the word —a tree every .20 feet, and always a thorn tree of some kind, hard and dry, just beginning to come out into leaf. It is hard to imagine how they manage to derive enough moisture to bud, as there has been no ram for six months, and everything is parched and dry. But -the rain is expected any day now, and Nature knows of its advent. The day gets hotter, and life more strenuous. One is constantly on the move, as the boys have no idea of a straight line, never do anything unless told, and then usually do it wrong. Some days we are lucky _ and have a breeze, which, of course, is just as hot. as the day,- but moves the air round a little, and keeps the mapani bees away. These little .mapani bees, which are about twice as big as a sandfly, are one of the worst pests. They do not sting but just hover in hundreds between the eyes and the brim of the sun helmet, and smother up the eye piece of the instrument. There is only one remedy and that is to smoke heavily and keep them away. Otherwise one has no option but to pack up, and. go home. The water bag is, in constant -use, and its canvas construction, .with its constant evaporation, keeps the contents beautifully cool. We use wooden pegs, but surround them with' a ring of rocks, as in a month's time the ground will be covered with grass, and make them difficult to i locate. Thanks to the white ant the pegs last about a year, so deviations are not staked out very long before construction.

There is a rustle in the grass beside me and I jump first and look afterwards, but it is not a snake. It is a beetle, about an inch and a half long and three-quarters of an inch wide, taking home ball of decayed' vegetable matter in a most amusing fashion. He —or rather she—puts her head down, and pushes the ball with the back legs until an obstacle is met, then a rush up. on top, a look round, following on by either changing direction or putting her head underneath and lifting the ball over the top. It is an example of the most ferocious energy. I have ever witnessed, and I only wish that some of my boys would display some of the symptoms. Ant heaps abound here, only small ones, but - further north, about N'dola, as big as 30 feet high and containing approximately 500 cubic yards of material. Even railway location is affected by them. The Heat of the Day. The sun gets higher, the water bag is empty, and visibility becomes very bad. It is 12.30, and time to stop for the day. "Lungile," I call to the boys, and they move fast for., the first time in the day. Perspiration rolls off me as I tramp back to the hotel, but it doesn't matter now. Arrived at my room life begins afresh. Iced water, a shave, a scalding bath followed by a cold shower, flannels, a splendid lunch in the huge dining room under 20 large fans, and things take on a new aspect, Then a sleep until tea at 4 p.m., and that is taken on the verandah, looking down the gorge of the Zambesi at the famous bridge, or across at the floating spray of the "Water-that-smokes," the marvellous Victoria Ealls. Then away for a' stroll, down to the Rain Forest, created by the spray. There are countless other walks around the five gorges of the falls. Six o'clock, quinine and a "sundowner," and we dress for dinner in a temperature of 90 degrees. This, of course, is quite cool, as it was 104 degrees at midday. Dinner, a little bridge or a book, and the day is done. I retire, nothing over me but a mosquito net, and fall off to sleep to the droning of the fan and the thunder of the falls. What a mixture of energy and indolence, comfort and discomfort, primitive life and luxurious civilisation!