MUGUNGA, Zaire - As the sun sets on this desolate refugee camp that used to have nearly half a million people, all you can hear is the sound of birds chirping.

Daisies grow up between the lava rocks that have been piled to form walls.

In the distance, through a haze of smoke along the road that passes through the camp, a steady stream of refugees flows past, as if on a conveyer belt.

But beside one thatched hut in the middle of the camp there is evidence of a horrible massacre, lost in the shuffle of yesterday's incredible events.

The bodies of more than 20 people, who appear to have been shot or hacked to death by machetes, are strewn about, their arms and legs sticking in the air.

One woman is crouching down as if in prayer. A boy, his head split wide open, seems to be reaching out for an aluminum crutch that lies beside him. A baby, dressed in a woolen sleeper, is sprawled on its back.

Flies buzz over the corpses, some of which are completely split open, their insides spilling out onto the ground.

A water line from Lake Kivu to the Oxfam tanks nearby continues to drip beside one man who is lying in a pool of blood.

Some of the dead look as if they are asleep, curled up on the ground or leaning against the wall of the hut. It seems they might rise up at any moment.

Inside the hut, just out of reach of its mother, is a small child, its hair moist and face scrunched up.

A few metres away, within a stone wall beside another hut, a man and woman lie face down. The man has been shot, the woman hacked to death. A baby is sitting up, as if ready for feeding, its head tilted to one side.

There is no evidence as to who committed the massacre and no witnesses to answer questions.

"This camp is deserted, except for the rats and the bodies," says U.N. spokesperson Ray Wilkinson, who took some reporters to the site yesterday.

Suddenly, two old women, crouching beneath the weight of parcels balanced on their heads, hobble past. They have just arrived from Kahindo camp.

"We've been three weeks in the forest," says one, her bare feet toughened like leather. She says she is 80 years old.

"We're going back to Rwanda, to Gisenyi," she adds, scratching a sort of map on the ground with her walking stick.