The Mysterious Hanging Lake

We lost Chris at 1,300 feet. I will never forget that day. The group had gone to see the mythical Ado-Awaye suspended lake in Oyo, Nigeria. Our adventure that day became another notch to the myths surrounding the lake.
We had gone, like thousands of tourists before us, to wonder how a lake could exist suspended atop 1,300 feet of smooth granite.
I had joined the group at the foot of the hills. They were from the University. Chris had stood out from the group. He was of that class of persons who were forever zestful. He it was who led in songs as we trudged up the mountain until we had no more breath for songs. He it was who encouraged those who fainted at the climb. In the pictures I took of the group, Chris always had the brightest smile.
It took us hours to pant up that hill, stopping many times to rest and leaving behind those too faint to continue. Our numbers dwindled as we ascended.
We got to the top and beheld glory. The summit was as wide as two football fields. Greenery interspersed the white granite. What feat of nature caused trees to grow horizontally, jutting out in majesty from smooth granite? Trees that had no roots? What great power had arranged huge rocks atop smaller ones like stringed beads? The comical formations looked like they would topple at any minute. But the rock carvings showed that their precarious balance had existed for centuries. In awe we snapped away.
At the middle of all this was the mysterious Ado-Awaye suspended lake—the size of a tennis court. The lake was never known to be dry even though its water had no source. Our old guide spoke with pride of this sacred lake of his ancestors, of the great spirits in the water, and warned us not to get too close.
But Chris wanted a dip in the water—just a little dip to cool off. As we watched he waded in and splashed water at us. Encouraged by his obvious enjoyment, some of us edged closer.
Then Chris took a dive under.
We waited to see him break through the surface. We waited for hours.
Near dusk the guide sighed and told us we had to be heading down. It was not safe up at the mountains after dark. He said a white man had dived into the lake, years before, and he too was yet to break surface. The Spirits, he said, had taken our friend Chris.
Chris’ sister was one of those who couldn’t make it up to the summit. She thought we were joking when we told her Chris had been taken by the water spirits.
Never again would I admire nature’s wonders without a sense of dread.