Towards the close of one afternoon we changed our course slightly, and swung in on a long slant towards the coast.  We did it casually; too casually for so very important an action, for now at last we were about to touch the mysterious continent.  Then we saw clearer the fine, big groves of palm and the luxuriance of the tropical vegetation.  Against the greenery, bold and white, shone the buildings of Mombasa; and after a little while we saw an inland glitter that represented her narrow, deep bay, the stern of a wreck against the low, green cliffs, and strange, fat-trunked squat trees without leaves.  Straight past all this we glided at half speed, then turned sharp to the right to enter a long wide expanse like a river, with green banks, twenty feet or so in height, grown thickly with the tall cocoanut palms.  These gave way at times into broad, low lagoons, at the end of which were small beaches and boats, and native huts among more cocoanut groves.  Through our glasses we could see the black men watching us, quite motionless, squatted on their heels.

It was like suddenly entering another world, this gliding from the open sea straight into the heart of a green land.  The ceaseless wash of waves we had left outside with the ocean; our engines had fallen silent.  Across the hushed waters came to us strange chantings and the beating of a tom-tom, an occasional shrill shout from the unknown jungle.  The sun was just set, and the tops of the palms caught the last rays; all below was dense green shadow.  Across the surface of the water glided dug-out canoes of shapes strange to us.  We passed ancient ruins almost completely dismantled, their stones half smothered in green rank growth.  The wide river-like bay stretched on before us as far as the waning light permitted us to see; finally losing itself in the heart of mystery.

Steadily and confidently our ship steamed forward, until at last, when we seemed to be afloat in a land-locked lake, we dropped anchor and came to rest.

Darkness fell utterly before the usual quarantine regulations had been carried through.  Active and efficient agents had already taken charge of our affairs, so we had only to wait idly by the rail until summoned.  Then we jostled our way down the long gangway, passed and repassed by natives carrying baggage or returning for more baggage, stepped briskly aboard a very bobby little craft, clambered over a huge pile of baggage, and stowed ourselves as best we could.  A figure in a long white robe sat astern, tiller ropes in hand; two half-naked blacks far up towards the prow manipulated a pair of tremendous sweeps.  With a vast heaving, jabbering, and shouting, our boat disengaged itself from the swarm of other craft.  We floated around the stern of our ship, and were immediately suspended in blackness dotted with the stars and their reflections, and with various twinkling scattered lights.  To one of these we steered, and presently touched at a stone quay with steps.  At last we set foot on the land to which so long we had journeyed and towards which our expectations had grown so great.  We experienced “the pleasure that touches the souls of men landing on strange shores.”