The Higher Congo.
Next day we make a formal call on Mr. Mahieu, Inspecteur d'Etat of the
Congo State, whose headquarters are at Leopoldville. He is a very busy
man with a multitude of duties, for the paternal system is continued all
through the State and the most trivial matters are always referred to
the highest official in the neighbourhood. As we are to lunch at the
Residency, we do not stay long, but take a ride with Commandant and Mme.
Sillye on four of the horses the former purchased at Dakar. Although a
little stiff after their holiday of a month, they have not been
otherwise affected by their sea voyage and two days in the train. Along
the beach are many steamers charging and discharging and others on the
slips being repaired or partly built. These steamers are all brought out
in sections and put together on the beach. They are flat bottomed, are
driven by stern wheels and only draw three or four feet of water. They
all burn wood, and special depots are formed at intervals on the rivers
where stores of this fuel are collected. Should however, a steamer run
short, it is only necessary to stop and send the crew ashore with knives
for the banks are lined with forest.
Leaving the beach we ride through avenues of palms and mango trees to
higher ground, whence a beautiful view can be obtained of Stanley Pool.
This is really a part of the river about sixteen miles wide, shut in by
hills on each side, but its size is not apparent from the water itself,
as a great number of islands cut the stream into numerous narrow
channels. Towards the south, the river narrows again and at this point
is the uppermost of the cataracts, the water hurling itself against the
rocks in its efforts to escape and recoiling in spray high into the air.
From just below Leopoldville all the way to Matadi, the river indeed
rushes down narrow gorges, but above, for nearly a thousand miles, it is
navigable for steamers. On a hill above the rapid, is a large tree under
which Stanley pitched his tent and which still bears his name.
Many native villages exist near Leopoldville, consisting of huts formed
of wooden frames and thatched with grass. There are no plantations or
factories here but great numbers of natives are at present employed in
road making and in constructing a new slip for launching the steamers.
Evidently our little party gives rise to much comment for several of
the natives have probably never seen a horse before, and a cavalcade of
four of these strange animals is something entirely new. On our way back
to the ship we pass down the main street in which are the administrative
offices, the mess, the doctors' and other private houses and close to
the beach, the Residency, over which flies the State flag and in front
of which patrols a sentry. At first one thought the sentry in front of
the chief official's house in each town, was merely a symbol of
authority as in Europe, afterwards however, it becomes apparent that the
system of Government in the Congo is based on absolute uniformity. Every
Post, however big or small, has its State flag and every chief official,
from the Governor to the chief of a Wood Post, has a sentry at his door.
Each morning at sunrise the flag is hoisted, while the guard presents
arms and every evening at sunset it is lowered with like ceremony.
Indeed, the whole system is military, for everyone rises, works, eats
and sleeps at the command of the clarion. It is a custom at most
official and private parties in the Congo, to hand round port wine and
cigars before sitting down to table. At first this seemed a strange kind
of _aperative_., but soon the glass of port became very agreeable after
the morning's work.
Ten or twelve guests were assembled on the verandah when we arrived, and
soon Mr. Armarni joined the group. He is an Italian, an ex-naval officer
of distinction and now Commissaire du Roi of the Congo, a position which
ranks with, but after, that of Governor General. By a simple and
practical device, the relative rank of all the Administrative and
Military officials can be determined at a glance. Each wears a blue
gauntlet on each wrist and forearm over the white sleeve of his coat and
affixed on this are a number of gold bands. A captain of a river
steamer, perhaps has three or four bands, a Chef de Poste, four or five,
a Commissaire of a Zone or District, seven or eight, an Inspecteur
d'Etat, nine or ten, and the Governor General, eleven. In order however,
to economise space and perhaps to facilitate counting, when more than
three stripes are worn, a broad strip is substituted which corresponds
to the original three. Thus an official with five stripes wears one
broad and two narrow ones, while the Governor General wears three broad
stripes and two narrow ones. The chief decoration, the order of the
Lion, can only be gained by Belgians, but the Congo Star is given to all
after a certain term of service. Those who hold purely civil
appointments such at Judges, Secretaries and Directors of Transport,
wear no stripes at all.
At 2.30 p.m. a bugle sounded and a chattering throng of natives hurried
past the Inspector's house towards the beach to resume work, which is
always interrupted for three hours at 11.30 a.m. during the heat of the
day. In order to feed these people and the soldiers of the Force
Publique at Leopoldville, about a ton and a half of kwanga is prepared
every day from the manioc grown in the villages around, and every able
bodied native has to contribute his or her quota of work. Each person
indeed is supposed to work for at least forty hours each month, and
whether engaged on roads, buildings, or other public work, or in
collecting rubber, wood for the steamers, or kwanga for food, is paid at
the current rate. The principle of the system of Government, although
entirely novel, is undoubtedly sound and suited to the country and the
condition of the native. The whole territory is divided into two great
parts, the lands of the native chiefs and the vacant lands called here
the Domaine Privé. The Government has however, disposed of part of these
to Concessionary Companies in this sense, that the Companies have the
right to exploit all the products of the forest in these areas. Other
portions have been leased to Missions, to Commercial Houses and to
private people. The Government collects the rubber, ivory, food stuffs,
and other produce from the Domain Lands and with the proceeds,
constructs roads, navigates the rivers, maintains the Government and
army and generally develops the country and civilises the natives.
Trading relations are formed with the chiefs as follows: Agents are sent
into their districts with brass wire, cloth, salt, beads, or other
things likely to attract the natives, and these are exchanged for
rubber, ivory, gum copal, manioc, fish, fowl or other produce; thus the
value of rubber, ivory or any other substance is determined in terms of
brass wire, cloth or salt and so its value in sterling. Similarly, the
value of native labour is discovered and the native paid accordingly.
The brass wire is cut into lengths called mitakos, this form of currency
having been introduced by the late Sir H.M. Stanley. The length of the
mitako, and so its value, varies in different parts of the country. At
present there seems to be no limit to the amount of wire cut into
mitakos, but as the natives use great quantities to make brass rings for
the arms and legs of both sexes, it is difficult to say to what extent
the currency is being debased. The pay of skilled labour here is high,
and unskilled workers receive about as much as similar labourers in
India. The natives pay no taxes in money or its equivalent, but instead
are compelled to do this 40 hours' work per month for the State.
In the afternoon we cross the neck of Stanley Pool and visit
Brazzaville, the capital of the French Congo. The town is situated close
to the beach, but the Government offices are high up on a hill above.
Having found the Secretariat, we explain that we are British travellers
and desire to pay our respects to the Governor. The Secretary telephones
as we wait in the office and presumably the Governor asks whether we
have introductions and what we want, for the answer goes back _Non, ils
sont venus, Pop!!!_ However, the Governor, Mr. Gentil, who has spent
many years in the Congo, receives us very kindly, offers to help us with
steamers on the river, gives us some letters of introduction to French
officials on the Ubangi and permits to shoot game. Every where indeed
one meets with kindness, help and consideration from the officials in
Africa, which is in marked contrast to the hide bound system of
formalities which it is necessary to observe and maintain in Europe.
[Illustration: STEAMERS AND DOCKS AT LEOPOLDVILLE.]
A great blowing of the steamer's whistle now takes place, for it is
getting late and it is impossible to navigate the Congo after sunset.
The captain is therefore becoming anxious, but enough light remains to
see the buoys and we reach Leopoldville soon after 6 p.m. We have
arranged to dine at the Mess, an excellent institution wherein all the
Europeans of every rank, except the very highest officials, sit down
together. The Commandant of the Force Publique, the Commandant of the
Port, the Directors of Transports and Posts, and the Doctors, all
take their dinner with the working artisans. Altogether about 130 men
attend the mess, where the cooking and service is excellent while each
has a small bottle of wine and a cup of coffee. By this means, every man
is ensured good wholesome food, and the necessity of restaurants, in
which indiscriminate drinking might take place, is avoided.
Next morning, July 23rd. the _Flandre_ leaves Leopoldville and steams to
Kinshasa where we stop and land. Here as usual the keynote is
development. Roads are being made, avenues of palms, mangoes and pine
apples planted and store houses, factories and plantations constructed.
At the coffee factory here, the beans are extracted from the shells,
sorted into sizes and qualities and packed in bags. Many kinds of coffee
have been planted in the Congo, but none are equal to the wild variety
found in the forest, which is as good as any in the world when properly
made. Near at hand is a brick field, where the bricks are made in metal
moulds, the clay being forced in by long levers. They are not made as
quickly as those fashioned by a machine but the process is a great
improvement on the old-fashioned method of brick making in wooden
moulds. It is already apparent that beer is regarded as a luxury here so
we order some dozens at three francs a bottle and having taken some
photos return to the ship.
On the beach were some fine elephant tusks which have been collected by
the agents of the _Société Anonyme Belge_. When a native finds a pair of
tusks in the territory of the company, the State takes one as a royalty
and the company buys the other for a certain quantity of cloth. This
only represents a fraction of the value in Europe, but is gladly
accepted by the native who has no use for it except to make war horns.
Indeed in the old days, the chiefs used to form a kind of fence round
their huts by sticking the points in the ground, little thinking that in
another part of the world, not even the millionaire of fiction ever
constructed such an expensive railing. Then the Arab slave raiders came
and stole both the native women and the ivory, so that the white man who
gives beautiful coloured cloth for these useless elephants' tusks is
regarded as a very generous trader. In the afternoon the _Flandre_
continued her journey threading her way between the numerous islands in
Stanley Pool, and finally tied up to the bank of the island of Bamu
which is French territory. This island enjoys the distinction of being
the only one in the Congo which has an owner, for all the rest are
declared to be no man's land by international treaty. It is reputed to
be full of game, and we go ashore to look for it, but return without
seeing anything. As the mosquitoes prevent all sleep in the cabin, we
arrange to make up a bed on deck and obtain a better night's rest, for
it is comparatively cool here in the evening in the open.
I am very anxious to bathe next morning, but the captain strongly
disadvises for the currents are very strong here, and the river is full
of crocodiles. In the midst of breakfast we are startled by the report
that the ship is on fire, and smoke is seen to be issuing from the fore
hatch, under which much of the wood used for fuel is stored. None of the
Europeans however, are more excited than the natives, who, leisurely and
with due deliberation, hand up buckets of water. Nothing indeed could
make a native hurry. The captain seems a trifle upset, and states that
it may be necessary to run on a rock, and thus make a hole in the bows
and flood the hold. This seems to be rather a desperate remedy, but no
one shows the slightest interest. This appeared curious at the time;
since however, it has transpired that fires in the holds are of common
occurrence, and that as the ships are all of iron, they usually burn
themselves out without harming anything. Soon after however, the captain
with an alarmed look, rushes up on deck and said that a terrible crime
or a great mistake had been committed. It appeared that by some error,
our cases of beer and some others belonging to Commandant Sillye had
been left on the beach at Kinshasa. Immediately we anchored last night a
native boatswain, or capita, was sent with six men in a canoe to fetch
them and ought to have returned by midnight. Nothing however, was heard
of the boat until now when the capita appeared and told a harrowing
story. He found the cases all right and started to return across the
river, but as it began to blow hard, he thought it better to make for
land and wait until the morning before trying to find the ship. He
succeeded in landing on the island of Bamu and soon after a white man
appeared with some Senegalese soldiers and demanded to know what was in
the cases. He explained, when the white man fired and killed all the
crew, but he ran away and escaped. The affair seemed serious so Lord
Mountmorres and Commandant Sillye left for Brazzaville to discover the
truth, while I stayed on the ship to superintend the landing of our
cargo if the fire extended.
Soon after the Commandant of the Port of Leopoldville arrived in a
steamer and asked if we wanted assistance as another ship had run on the
rocks higher up and sunk and he was hastening to rescue any possible
survivors. Sunday, July 24th indeed, seemed to be a veritable day of
horrors, but still no one appeared at all excited. By midday the fire in
the forehold was extinguished and thus one danger was removed. Later in
the afternoon just before sunset, an immense flock of ducks and geese
crossed the river, but as they were flying nearly a hundred feet up in
the air, it was impossible to shoot them. Soon after Mountmorres and
Sillye returned and reported they had found all the crew safe, except
one man who had probably deserted and had also brought back the cases of
beer. The white man was a French officer of Customs, who had naturally
thought the crew of the canoe were engaged in smuggling and had fired
blank cartridges to frighten them. So passed an eventful day with much
smoke but little fire. It was indeed becoming apparent that the Congo
was a true land of exaggerations. On all sides were great hills, great
plains, great forests, great rivers, great beasts, great trees, and
great lies.
Next day we continued our course up Stanley-Pool, which meant threading
our way up narrow channels between uninteresting sandbanks covered with
forest or grass. In the distance could be seen the hills forming the
boundaries of the Pool and at its upper end _Dover Cliffs_ so called
from their resemblance to that part of the English coast. About midday
we sighted the _Anversville_, the vessel which was supposed to have been
sunk, comfortably lying on a sand bank, and the _Brugesville_ which had
gone to her assistance, also resting on the same bank. One of the
passengers came off to the _Flandre_ and told us that no one was hurt
and all the baggage was safe and that he had heard we had been burnt
out, attacked by natives and all killed. Truly the Congo is a wonderful
place.
As the _Flandre_ moors we decide to go ashore hunting. Within a few
yards of the bank is the lair of a hippopotamus and the spoor of
elephants. It is however, very difficult walking, for patches of land
are covered with long grass seven or eight feet high and the rest is
bog. After struggling along for a few minutes, I hear a curious noise
like a very asthmatic fog horn not above five yards away. Nothing is
however, visible, for the grass forms a complete cover. Again the grunt
with a suspicious after-sniff and at the same moment Chikaia, who is
carrying my gun snaps his fingers--the usual sign to indicate game--and
beckons me to follow. I endeavour to do so, and at once sink in the bog
up to the knees, but fortunately keep my rifle dry. By clutching the
grass, I get out and we follow the spoor of the hippo as rapidly as
possible. This is very clearly marked, for the grass has been recently
thrust aside and there are great holes in the soft mud over a foot wide
and deep, made by the great feet of the beast. These holes were in pairs
lying close together, showing that the hippo was galloping as he passed
and unfortunately they led straight to the river.
Next day we leave the Pool and enter a part of the river called the
Channel. Here there are no islands and both banks are visible all the
time, the width not being more than a mile in some places. A low range
of hills covered with acacias or coarse grass, exists on each side. As
usual, we stop at a Wood Post to take fuel on board. This is cut in logs
three or four feet long and stacked in heaps about the same in width and
height. Sticks are placed in the ground connected by lines at the
required height and the logs are laid in rows until the space is filled.
The result is a cubic yard of wood known in the Congo as a _bras_, but
the bras differs in size and price considerably, in some cases the cost
being 5 mitakos and in others double that amount. A native can easily
collect a bras of wood in the forest and carry it to the bank in a day
and in some of the Wood Posts fifty or sixty natives are employed. Even
then however, the demand for wood by the big steamers is sometimes
greater than the supply.
At 6 p.m. every day the steamer stops for the night and makes fast to a
tree on the bank. All the native passengers at once go ashore, light
fires and arrange their beds for the night. They sleep on mats or with
the whole body, and head also, wrapped up closely in rugs. Either their
feet or heads are always within a few inches of the fire and their
bodies radiate out like the spokes of a wheel. Until 9.30 p.m., however,
when all lights on the steamer must be put out, a ceaseless chatter
proceeds with an occasional angry discussion as the natives take their
meal of kwanga, fish, and any odd piece of meat they can procure. It is
a somewhat weird sight, the black forms showing dimly in the ruddy light
of the fires under the trees. The bell on the steamer rings the command
and everyone goes to bed, and then one appreciates the real silence of
the equatorial forest which one has heard about at home. Within a few
yards, hundreds of frogs commence to croak loudly and continue steadily,
with a few pauses to breathe, until daybreak. Hundreds of monkeys
screech shrilly in the trees and millions of mosquitoes hum steadily
within an inch or two of one's ears. All manner of animal cries are
heard in the forest and the hippos blow loudly as they rise to the
surface to breathe. As a matter of fact, the noise at midnight in the
forest, when every beast, bird and insect is busy hunting for food, is
greater than at any other time, and at midday only, one enjoys
comparative quiet when all the animal kingdom is asleep.
[Illustration: THE AMERICAN MISSION HOUSE AT LEOPOLDVILLE.]
One evening I went ashore with Chikaia for a stroll on the beach,
carrying only a gun. We soon found a number of ducks and as they had
never been fired at before probably, they were not scared away by the
noise of the gun, but kept wheeling round and round overhead affording
very easy shots. It would indeed have been easy to shoot them all. There
was, however, no reason to do so and having collected a couple or two to
make a welcome change from the daily goat of the steamer, we started
back when a fine antelope-cheval rushed from the wood across the sandy
beach towards the water. Chikaia at once became very excited and wished
me to fire, but it was useless, as the beast was more than a hundred
yards away. It was satisfactory to find the boy was a keen sportsman,
even though he did not appreciate the different capacities of a gun and
a rifle. However, I made a mental note never to go, even for a casual
stroll in Africa, without both weapons.
On returning to the ship, we hear that the Captain's boy has killed a
hippo and that dozens of others are waiting to be shot. We therefore
determine to try some shooting by moonlight and Chikaia is delighted
when he sees the _gras_ as he calls my Lee-Metford come out of its case.
It is a beautiful night with clear, cool air. Streams of silver flow
from the moon on the water, while the palms tower high with majestic
crowns. Here we are in the very midst of real nature and yet again it
unpleasantly recalls the scenery of a theatre. It is indeed
extraordinary with what accuracy scenic artists construct tropical
scenes. The surroundings tend to make one sentimental and regret that
this veritable garden of Eden should be exploited to make billiard balls
and rubber tyres for automobiles and bicycles. The native also, instead
of hunting elephant and hippos, eating his fill and sleeping, and eating
again and sleeping again until the carcase has disappeared and then
hunting again, now has to collect rubber juice and cut wood for an ugly
looking steam flat. Such however, is civilisation in the Congo.
Spoor of elephants and hippos abound and the grunt of the latter can
frequently be heard, but they are not sitting up on their haunches
waiting to be shot. The clear, shrill chirp of the sentry bird is indeed
warning the big beasts that something strange is moving and we shall
have to lie still for a long while probably before getting a chance at
the great heads as they are raised from the water.
After a walk of about a mile, we arrive at the place where the captain's
boy was supposed to have killed the hippo. The truth was he had _fired
at_ a beast who, as the spoor clearly showed, had walked calmly into the
river and not a trace of blood could be seen. After a time, with
practice perhaps, one will be able to gauge the truth from an ordinary
Congo statement.
Next day we reach the mouth of the Kasai, a large tributary which drains
much of the Equatorial District of the Congo. Here is a State Post,
Kwamouth, with a few well constructed houses and a Catholic Mission
where pretty walking sticks with ivory handles can be purchased and
where the Fathers make a few cigars from Congo tobacco which are not at
all bad smoking. A little further up the river, is the deserted Catholic
Mission of St. Marie which has evidently been at one time well arranged
with a large manioc plantation and garden. Here however, the Sleeping
Sickness appeared and the mortality was so heavy that the place was
abandoned. The disease had no doubt existed before, but it was this
terrible epidemic which first attracted the serious notice of Europeans.
It is becoming clear that there are a great number of nationalities
represented in the Congo. Most of the political and military
appointments are held by Belgians, but there are many Italian military
officers also. Nearly all the marine are Scandinavians and the language
of the river is therefore, chiefly English, although every State
official must speak a certain amount of French. A few Germans also hold
appointments, and the trading houses are run chiefly by English and
Dutch, while there are missionaries of several nationalities. In the
army, orders are given in French, but on the ships and in the stations,
the native is commanded in a kind of jargon based on the Bangala
dialect. The Danish captain of a Congo steamer thus as a rule, speaks,
besides his own language, English, French and Bangala and can make
himself understood in all.
On pay day, rolls of brass wire are cut up into mitakos, which become
longer the higher one travels up the river, this arrangement having been
introduced by Stanley and never altered. Here the mitako is 28
centimetres long and it is worth 5 cents, while at Basoko it is 40
centimetres long and worth 10 cents. The native crew are paid three
mitakos for their food per day which would purchase twice as much
kwanga as they could possibly eat. The capitas and wheelman are also
paid monthly wages which vary with the nature of their work.
By July 28th we have passed through the Channel into a portion of the
river which is very wide and has the appearance of a great lake studded
with islands. The banks are invisible, for the country here is
absolutely flat and continues so for many hundreds of miles until the
Province Orientale is reached. Between these islands, which are usually
well wooded, we pass slowly up the river, for the current is still
strong although the surface of the water appears absolutely still and
the light glares as from a mirror. Some of the islands are however, only
covered with grass and a herd of buffaloes on one come charging down to
the river to drink. Unfortunately one of the passengers fires a kind of
saloon rifle, which might possibly have killed a rabbit at twenty yards,
and frightens them back. This is a great pity, for if we had had time,
we could easily have bagged one or two and had some fresh beef for
dinner.
At midday on the 29th we reach Mopolenga and stop for wood. The land in
the neighbourhood is well cultivated and manioc, sweet potatoes, bananas
and pineapples flourish. The manioc plant has a green stem, reddish
branches and green leaves arranged in clusters of six which turn
downwards forming the shape of a parasol, evidently a popular, as it is
an appropriate, pattern for vegetable life in this hot country. The root
of the manioc yields the flour, which is made into kwanga and unless it
is well boiled, is supposed to be very injurious. The animals here
consist chiefly of monkeys, parrots and finches, but many ducks fly from
a swamp near the water.
In the afternoon we reach Bolobo, the head quarters of the Baptist
Mission, which is presided over by Mr. Grenfell, a missionary who has
resided for over twenty years in the Congo. He has taught the natives to
make bricks and build houses and has erected a Mission Hall, a hospital
and a printing house. The mission enclosure is well laid out with mango
trees and other useful fruits and many fat ducks and fowls pass a
contented existence there. Unfortunately Mr. Grenfell was not at home,
but we were fortunate in finding Mr. Scrivener, another missionary, who
has resided some years in Africa. He stated that the natives were
emigrating from the District of Lake Leopold, which lies behind Bolobo
and is Domain Land, because they were forced to collect rubber and were
flogged if they refused. He had never himself seen a native who had been
ill treated, but had been told so by natives. Asked whether the people
were ever mutilated, Mr. Scrivener looked very surprised and answered
"Oh no, there is nothing of that kind now!"
Bolobo is very populous and many natives flocked down to the beach
immediately the steamer arrived and at once held an outdoor market on
the beach selling manioc, fish, clothes, pots of various kinds and other
articles to the crew and passengers. A Congo flat fish of the perch
family is found here, smoke dried and sold for food and is very good
eating indeed.
Two of the crew were _chicotted_. to-day by order of the captain. One had
attacked another boy with a knife and wounded him and the other had
stolen, and then falsely blamed another. The _chicotte_ is a plain
strip of hippo hide and the punishment was administered publicly by the
capita on the bridge of the steamer and did not appear to be more
painful than an ordinary birching at a public school.
At 10 p.m. we decide to take the big iron boat of the steamer and go
hunting. The natives are exceedingly skilful and know all the likely
places for hippo. They first paddle hard up stream and having arrived at
the hunting ground allow the boat to drift down with the current in
perfect silence. It is clear moonlight, but it is necessary to cover the
fore sight of the rifle with white paper in order to see it clearly.
After a time, up rises a great head with a great pant and there is just
time for a shot before it sinks again. Hippos frequent shallow water and
are indifferent swimmers. They walk about on the bottom and rise at
intervals to breathe. It is thus impossible to know in which direction a
beast will next appear or whether he will come up under the boat and
capsize it. This night there were great numbers and we had excellent
sport. One shot in the head is sufficient to kill a hippo which then
sinks and the body does not rise again for some hours. One unfortunate
animal was however, shot in the back and rearing straight up on his hind
legs rushed for some yards in that attitude until a second shot in the
head put him out of his misery.
Next day we reach Lukolela, a Wood Post and telegraph station. The line
runs along the bank all the way from Leopoldville to Coquilhatville and
was very difficult to erect. A space had to be cleared in the forest
nearly two hundred feet wide and the line erected in the centre on iron
posts, so that any falling trees would not destroy it. At first, the
elephants strongly resented these novel posts and frequently knocked
them down as easily as if they had been nine pins, but have since become
used to them. At Lukolela there is excellent teak wood which is
fashioned into doors and windows and shipped to various places ready for
building. The nights are quite cool, although we are near the Equator
and the heat in the day time is not nearly as oppressive as it is at
Aden or Shanghai in the summer. Cultivation is much more advanced here
than in the lower Congo and the physique of the natives is remarkably
fine.
The navigation of the river here becomes very difficult, for the water
is shallow at this season of the year and there are many sand banks
which frequently change their position. Charts are therefore,
practically useless and each skipper has to feel his way each voyage.
Indeed, the whole time two boys sit on the bows of the vessel with long
poles sounding the water and shouting out the depth. It is curious that
when the vessel is travelling in shallow water, the engines at once go
slow of their own accord. One of the engineers explained that this
phenomena was produced by the difficulty the wheels experienced in
dragging away, so to speak, the water from under the ship when there was
little depth. Still the ships, frequently run on the banks, but as they
are flat bottomed, are not usually injured. The method of mooring is
very rudimentary although practical. One of the crew jumps overboard
with a steel rope, swims ashore and makes it fast to a tree. All of them
are expert swimmers and seem to enjoy their frequent dips, and as their
clothes consist of a loin cloth only, they do not require to undress.
On August 1st at sunset we reach Irebu, an exceedingly beautiful place.
An avenue of palms stretches parallel to the river and about twenty
yards from it the bank itself being fenced by white wooden rails. This
leads to a large open square around which are the brick houses of the
European officers. Beyond, along the river front, are more brick houses,
the Mess and the Magazines, and gardens are laid out the whole length of
the town. This is one of the large military training centres, where
about a dozen officers prepare more than a thousand recruits for the
Force Publique.
In the evening the place was illuminated by very simple, but effective,
means. Stakes were driven into the ground and on each was placed a tin
which presumably had contained condensed milk. These were filled with
palm oil and pieces of wood to serve as wicks. The mosquitoes here are
very bad indeed and it is necessary to take quinine every day to
counteract the effects of their poison.
At daybreak next morning most of the troops were exercising in the
square and their precision and manoeuvring were really marvellous. Any
European colonel might indeed be proud to hear such a single click as
his regiment shouldered arms. The officers state that the natives attend
very carefully all the time for the word of command and act very quickly
after it is given. The native corporals evidently make good instructors
and the raw recruit is soon converted into a smart and responsible
soldier. This military education is certainly the best that could be
given to a savage; it teaches him punctuality, regularity, obedience and
collective responsibility; it shows him how to build houses and keep
them clean and it gives him an idea of justice for he knows he will be
punished for wrong doing. The soldier therefore soon becomes an
altogether different person and realises that he is no longer an
animal-man living wild in the forest, but a soldier-man and a friend of
the great _Bulamatadi_. who governs the country. What we may call the
caste feeling has indeed contributed greatly to civilising the country.
Anyone who is brought into direct contact with the whites as a soldier,
a worker in the plantation or on the roads, soon feels that he is
superior to the wild bushman and then becomes more attached to his new
master than to his own cousins. It is rather amusing to hear the native
domestics or _boys_. who probably rank higher than any other natives on
the social ladder, speaking of the _indigenes_. with great contempt as
though they were quite another and an inferior species. Speaking of
_Bulamatadi_, it may be of interest to state the origin and meaning of
the term--it means literally in the native tongue _one who breaks
stones_. and was given to Stanley, when he blasted rocks to make roads
the term being afterwards buried with him on his coffin. Since then it
has been applied to all officials of the State and is used to connote
anything and everything connected with the State. Thus the State side of
the river is Bulamatadi, a State Post is Bulamatadi, a State steamer is
Bulamatadi, anything indeed belonging to the State is Bulamatadi. White
men traders and hunters, not State officials, are _mundellas_, but the
native at once has a nick name for everyone which describes his chief
characteristic. Lord Mountmorres usually wore long hunting boots and was
named _big boots_. and as I wore eyeglasses, I became _double eyes_.
We left Irebu on August 2nd and at once disturbed many crocodiles and
hippos, which abound in this district. An unfortunate accident happened
in the afternoon. One of the crew fell overboard and must have been
drawn under the stern wheel and struck by a paddle, for he never
re-appeared and no sign of the poor fellow could be found, although
diligent search was made for a long time.
Just before sunset a canoe comes alongside and fastens to the ship,
although it is travelling at full speed. It is indeed wonderful to see
the way the natives manipulate these narrow dug-outs not two feet wide.
In this one were three fishermen with some fish which looked like trout
for sale. At once a great clamouring takes place among the native
passengers and it soon becomes plain that the chief fisherman was a good
man of business. Having taken an empty bottle for one fish and a piece
of cloth for another, he refused more of those articles and demanded
either salt or mitakos for his goods. In a short time however, he had
disposed of his cargo and paddled contentedly away.
[Illustration: NATIVES OF THE UPPER CONGO.]
The natives are very vain and take much trouble over their personal
appearance. As their clothes are very simple this is concentrated on
their tatooage and on their hair dressing. From a hopeless looking
tangle of black tow a very pretty erection is created by the barbers who
are of both sexes. Often the hair has five or six separate partings and
quills or feathers are inserted into the ridges in between. All the
women here wear a simple piece of cloth as they do in the Lower Congo
and sometimes a plain leather belt is worn round the waist. The arms and
legs are bare and covered with plain bangles made of mitakos. The women
wear no hat of any kind, but the men ape the Europeans and appear in
old helmets or straw hats. Both sexes are very clean personally, and
bathe frequently in the river, but never dry themselves afterwards. The
men keep on their loin cloths, but if they wear also shirts or trousers,
take these off, while the women bathe in a white linen loin cloth and
everyone afterwards pulls on his other clothes without drying. Many
natives rub a red powder into the skin made from cam-wood and thus
acquire a copper colour, while others paint their faces with various
stripes of red, yellow or white. On the Congo however, where the natives
are becoming civilised, this custom seems to be dying out.
On August 3rd we cross the Equator marked by a post on one side of the
river and the point of an island in the centre. Here used to be a
settlement, but most of the people have moved higher up. There is still
a Mission near the place and a good road runs along the bank between
plantations of bananas and gardens to Coquilhatville which we reach in
the afternoon.
[Illustration: BOTANICAL GARDENS AT EALA.]