The news of this drastic action spread all over the countryside and was strongly condemned by the Maharaja of a neighboring state. The critic even went so far as to say that he was fond of monkeys, and that they were allowed to roam about his domain unmolested.

In the meantime at Datia hundreds of monkeys were being captured daily, and very soon there was not a simian left roaming free. The Prime Minister was now faced with the problem of disposing of them. He hit upon the bright idea of having them packed in baskets and loaded on board a special train which was dispatched to the neighboring state of the Maharaja who professed a liking for monkeys. When the train arrived in the chief town, several hundred miles from Datia, the animals were unloaded and let loose as a special gift to the potentate.

A LONGITUDINAL SURVEY OF AFRICA
BY AIR

It was a huge practical joke, and was talked of all over India. The poor Maharaja who had condemned Datia's action could say nothing, although inwardly he must have been furious.

After more than three months away from home I landed on the Croydon airdrome in the early spring, completing the first of a series of three big flights of survey of Empire Air Routes.

Our next big flight was from London to Cape Town and back. For this trip I selected the identical De Havilland type 50 plane that had taken us to Rangoon and back, but instead of the old-type engine, we installed a 385-horsepower, air-cooled Siddeley Jaguar. In order to negotiate easily the high-altitude airdromes in the Tropics, where the atmosphere is much rarefied, it was necessary to have the extra horsepower.

The first part of the trip through France, Italy, Greece, and over the Mediterranean to Cairo was not new to me, because I had covered this ground before on more than one occasion (see pages 349 to 357), and it was not until I had passed over Egypt and was well into the Sudan that I found myself over new territory.

Beyond Khartum we flew over the great Sennar Dam, recently completed across the Blue Nile, which prevents so much water running to waste in time of flood after the heavy rainfalls in Ethiopia. The

dam has created a gigantic reservoir, which stores water for an enormous irrigation system that makes available for cotton growing more than a million acres of hitherto waste land.

As we journeyed south we were greatly impressed by the changes in the native tribes. At Malakal our machine was entrusted to the Shilluks, who placed it in the center of their village (see page 378). After Malakal we flew for nearly 400 miles to Mongalla, over a swamp region known as the Sudd area, through which somehow the Nile wends its way. The swamp is inhabited by various primitive tribes, who lead a simple existence, knowing nothing about clothes and the habits of civilization.*

At Mongalla, owing to the great heat, we found that we could do very little manual work, and had to depend upon the natives to help us clean the machine (see page 378).

We had traveled nearly 3,000 miles up the River Nile from the Mediterranean coast, yet at Mongalla we were only about 1,000 feet above sea level. In the next two or three hundred miles, however, the ground rose suddenly, and at Jinja, on the shores of Lake Victoria, we found ourselves on the high plateau of central Africa, more than 4,000 feet above sea level.

Owing to the heat, the altitude and other local conditions, the density of the atmosphere was very different from that of northern Europe. At times the air in central Africa on some of the landing grounds was equivalent to the atmosphere at 10,000 feet in England, and it was here that we found the need for our extra horsepower in order to take off and climb. away on the rarefied air.

Near Jinja we saw the Ripon Falls, the source of the White Nile, and the only outlet to the great Lake Victoria.

FLYING THROUGH THE MISTS OF VICTORIA

FALLS 50 FEET ABOVE THE BRINK

Of our journeys through Tanganyika and Northern Rhodesia there is no space to tell in this article. But we cannot pass by the Victoria Falls without describing

* See, also, "Cairo to Cape Town Overland," by Felix Shay, in the NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE for February, 1925.

how the Zambezi, which is a mile and a quarter wide at this point, flows gently on its way and when seen from an airplane seems suddenly to disappear into a crack in the earth.

This great African river falls for 360 to 400 feet into a narrow chasm. In the center of this cleft is the only outlet, a narrow gorge through which all the mighty waters have to escape.*

On this flight to Cape Town I had with me a professional cinematographer, Emmott, in addition to my engineer of the England-to-India trip (see text, page 360), and while Emmott took the motion. pictures, Elliot used to try to take the still pictures. When we had flown beyond the falls the sight was so magnificent that we decided to come down low and take a close-up picture of the brink.

This maneuver was interfered with by the continual banks of spray, which kept rising and completely enveloped our maskimmed along only 50 feet above the chine in heavy clouds of mist as brink (see pages 376 and 377).

we

While we were flying at this low altitude over this perilous country, our engine faltered and started to splutter. Elliot and I both realized what had happened: the spray was so heavy that water had entered the carburetor.

It was an unpleasant moment, for beneath us was the deep chasm and the turmoil of waters, while on the one side we had the River Zambezi flowing toward the brink, and on the other a dense forest jungle; and for miles around no earthly. chance of finding a cleared space on which to land.

I gave the engine full throttle, and while it banged and spluttered we climbed away and headed for our airdrome at Livingstone. Fortunately the carburetor cleared itself of the drops of water, and once more our motor began to purr smoothly.

All the way through Africa we surveyed the possibilities for air routes, and finally reached Cape Town with the first airplane to make the cross-continent flight. Then, after a brief overhaul of the motor, we turned about and flew home, making the return trip in 15 days.

* See, also, "The World's Great Waterfalls," by Theodore W. Noyes, in the NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE for July, 1926.