At first we were inclined to remain where we had cooked and eaten our
supper. The water was convenient, and there was long bunch grass upon
which we could rest very comfortably.
But although it was then warm enough, and we might have gone to sleep
without feeling any cold, we knew it would be different towards the
middle of the night. We knew this from the experience we had already
had of this part of the country--for notwithstanding the great heat of
the sun during the day, at night there were heavy dews, and the air was
often foggy and chill. Some nights on board the barque we had found it
cold enough for all the blankets we could get. Perhaps it was not
absolutely so cold as we fancied it, for at this time I knew nothing
about the thermometer. It is like enough that we felt the cold of the
night more keenly, on account of its contrast with the great heat of the
day; and as we were usually at hard work, and perspiring all day long,
of course our blood was not prepared for the change.
That day had been a particularly hot one, and in walking over the
palm-nuts, and toiling through thickets and other difficult places, we
had been in a profuse perspiration all day long. As we had no blankets
to cover us--nothing but our very lightest clothing--we would be likely
to suffer during the night with the damp dew falling upon our bodies.
True, we had the lion's hide with us, but this, being fresh and still
raw, would not greatly benefit us.
Under these circumstances it occurred to us that we might as well take
shelter under some tree, which, if it failed to warm, would at least
protect us from the falling dew.
We had already noticed a grove at some distance along the slope of the
hill. It appeared to promise the very shelter we wanted, and taking up
the gun, the lion-skin, what remained of the bustard, and some burning
faggots to make a new fire out of, we proceeded in the direction of the
grove.
This grove appeared of that kind usually termed a coppice or copse--such
as may be often observed in English parks. It was of a circular form,
and covered about half an acre of ground. None of the timber was tall--
not over thirty or forty feet in height, but as we drew nearer we could
perceive that it was all of one sort. This we could tell by the leaves,
which were very large and of a shining green colour. They were oblong,
and each leaf was divided into five leaflets, that were placed in
relation to each other like the fingers of a hand. Even the leaflets
were like large entire leaves, and out of each bunch of leaves we could
see that there grew a large white flower hanging upon a long pendulous
flower-stalk with its top downward. These flowers gave the grove a very
beautiful appearance--their splendid white corollas contrasting
elegantly with the deep-green of the leaves.
All these matters we noted as we drew nigh, for although the sun had
gone down, there was still light enough to view objects at a
considerable distance.
We noticed nothing else about this little copse that appeared peculiar,
until we had advanced close to its edge. We only observed that it was
nicely rounded, just as if it belonged to some fine park and had been
kept neatly trimmed by the pruning knife of the park-keeper, or some
landscape gardener. Of course this was a peculiarity--considering that
the grove grew in a wild uninhabited country, where no human hand ever
interfered with it, as we supposed. But I had heard that such regularly
formed copses are often met with in wild regions, both on the table
plains of Southern Africa and the prairies of America, therefore there
was nothing remarkable that they should be found in Central Africa as
well.
On this account we had scarce made any remark about the singularity of
its shape, but approached it with no other intention than to obtain
shelter under it. Its dense foliage, promising protection from dew, or
even rain, if it should fall, appeared to invite us; and we were
resolved to accept its proffered hospitality.
It was only when we got very close to it, that we perceived the true
nature of this singular grove--and then we noticed a peculiarity that
astonished us. Instead of a grove covering nearly an acre of ground, as
we had conjectured, you may fancy our surprise on perceiving that the
hole copse consisted of but one tree!
Sure enough there was only one tree, and it was the vast umbrageous head
of leaves and flowers that we had mistaken for a whole grove!
But such a tree was that! If we had been astonished by the dragon-tree,
our astonishment was now more than doubled, on beholding the gigantic
monarch of trees, that now spread widely before our eyes. The
dragon-tree sank into a shrub in comparison with it.
If I were to give the dimensions of this enormous vegetable, I should
scarce be credited, but fortunately its giant proportions do not rest on
my authority alone. Trees of a similar kind, and of the very same
species, have been described by botanists, and therefore their vast size
is well-known to the scientific world.
The one discovered by Brace and myself had a trunk of full a hundred
feet girth. I cannot speak exactly, as I had no measuring string, and
it would have taken a pretty long cord to have gone round it: but Ben
measured it carefully with his arms, and pronounced it to be
"twenty-five fadoms." Now Ben's "fadoms" were good fathoms, for he was
a long armed man; and, therefore I conclude that the trunk was at least
a hundred feet in circumference. At the height of about a dozen feet
from the ground the trunk forked into a number of great branches, each
of which was like a tree of itself; and, in fact, some of them were far
thicker than most trees of the forest. These branches stretched out for
many yards--at first horizontally, but as they tapered towards a point,
they began gradually to curve downwards, until their extreme ends--the
topmost twigs with their leaves--quite touched the earth. It was for
this reason we had not been able to see the main trunk as we approached.
The foliage of the outer boughs concealed it from the view, and hence
had we mistaken the single tree for a grove or coppice. It the more
resembled this on account of its height; for, as already observed, its
topmost branches did not exceed thirty or forty feet in clear altitude.
It was therefore not the tallest tree in the world, though it was
certainly one of the thickest.
Now it so chanced that I knew what kind of tree it was--even to its
name; my "wonder book" had not omitted to describe the vegetable
curiosity. It was the great _baobab_.