After going a certain distance, we came on a rush-drain, of much greater breadth even than the Mwerango, called the Moga (or river) Myanza, which was so deep I had to take off my trousers and tuck my clothes under my arms.
It flowed into the Mwerango, but with scarcely any current at all.
This rush-drain, all the natives assured me, rose in the hills to the southward--not in the lake, as the Mwerango did--and it was never bridged over like that river, because it was always fordable.

This account seemed to me reasonable; for though so much broader in its bed than the Mwerango, it had no central, deep-flowing current..