The Ubangi River.--Irebu to Banzyville.
We leave Irebu on August 29th in the _Florida_ and steam up the river
Ubangi. The colour of the water at once changes for whereas the Congo
carries much sand and is brown, the Ubangi carries much clay and is a
dirty yellow. The banks are densely wooded and in the stream are many
islands also covered with forest. Lying on patches of sand or on the
fallen trunks of trees are many crocodiles asleep. There is not much
sport in shooting them but one which was leisurely swimming up stream
about fifty yards from the ship, made a sporting shot and was killed
with a bullet in the heart. As the cabin is small and hot, we arrange to
sleep on the bridge of the steamer which is almost embedded in trees
when we tie up to the bank for the night. A tornado bursts about
midnight, but the dense foliage acts as a protection and very little
water finds its way into our improvised bedroom.
Next day we stop at Bobanghe, a native Wood-Post, and go ashore. The
huts here are thatched with grass, for palms seem scarce. Some of the
men have black beards which they plait into one or two tails, producing
a curious appearance and while they fish, the women do the work of the
village and the marketing. Several of them were sitting on logs,
contentedly puffing tobacco smoke from wooden pipes while they offered
fish, fruit and vegetables for sale to our crew and native passengers.
One variety of fish was particularly noticeable; it was coloured like a
trout, but had a long snout on the dorsal side. We bought one, and it
proved very good eating. The forest here is full of rubber plants,
nearly every vine and leaf, when broken, yielding the milky sap which
dries, or can be coagulated, into rubber.
One day the boy Jean fell overboard, but leisurely undressed in the
water and swam to the bank, whence he was rescued by the canoe of the
steamer. He was perfectly calm but Chikaia burst into tears and loudly
blubbered. Very little indeed is sufficient to arouse emotionalism in
some-of the natives, who are always laughing or crying, fortunately the
former more often than the latter.
The banks of the Ubangi descend as a rule, sheer into deep water and are
often indeed miniature cliffs. No attempt is made to fashion steps and
the villagers slide down the banks as best they can and thus form a rude
path to the water. A half dozen men in an hour could make a convenient
inclined plain or steps, but the native only does what work is
absolutely necessary in order to live, and although loving ease, will
not take the trouble to make himself more comfortable. So he climbs
painfully up the bank every night from his canoe and slides down again
every morning without attempting to improve the path. The vanity of the
native however, causes him to take great pains to--as he thinks--improve
his personal appearance. Brass collars and bangles are very uncommon on
the Ubangi and beads take their place. The women wear short skirts made
of vegetable fibres plaited, which must take days or weeks to construct.
These are black or red in colour and are suspended from the waist, but
as the fibre is somewhat stiff, they project all round like the dress of
a ballet dancer. These are peculiar to the Ubangi and are rarely worn by
other tribes. The men wear only loin cloths and often carry a large
straight knife suspended by a leather belt strapped round the chest.
It is very hot from midday to sunset, but the nights are comparatively
cool. One afternoon we saw a great number of serpent-birds perched high
up on a bulbous tree, and, as they are good to eat, stopped to shoot
some. They were not at all shy and did not depart after several shots
had been fired, but wheeled round and round as if to discover what was
the cause of the strange noise. Ball, 3 and 5' shot were equally
efficacious and more than a dozen fell in a few minutes. These birds
have a beautiful black and white plumage with a long neck and bill and
webbed feet and weigh five or six pounds each. The flavour is somewhat
like ptarmigan and the natives eat them, as usual, without waiting until
they were properly cooked.
In the evening I took a stroll in the forest and soon found the recent
spoor of an elephant. Chikaia was just ahead, when he suddenly stopped
and whispered _macat_ pointing in the air. There was a fine monkey and
the boy's instinct for such a choice morsel, actually caused him to
stop, although he knew very well it would have been absurd to fire and
so frighten the elephant. At one time we must have been within a few
yards of the beast when a snapping of a twig or some sound disturbed him
and with a bellow he rushed away crashing through the forest. It is
curious that while birds are so bold in Africa, ground game is extremely
shy and most difficult to stalk.
On September 2nd we reach Imese, the first place on the Ubangi where
there are white men. Mr. Donneaux was the Chef du poste and everything
was in good order. Rubber vines were being planted in the forest and
rubber shrubs in the clearings. Coffee was also growing and pineapples
and other fruits looked well. All the houses are, as usual, of brick
which are of better quality than on the Congo, as the clay is good and
very abundant. The native village is about ten minutes' walk distant and
is arranged in two or three regular streets and not in patches of huts
dotted down here and there as in the Lake Tumba District. The State
impost here is one kilogramme of rubber each month from each man for
which he is paid 40 or 50 centimes. Collecting this amount takes one or
two days and the rest of the time the native works for himself or not
as he chooses. Here the people seem more industrious than in most parts,
many women being engaged in making mats and pottery. The pots are
fashioned by hand with the aid of a round stone and are so wonderfully
symmetrical that they resemble those made on a lathe. The clay is
obtained from the river bed by diving and after the vessel is made, it
is first dried in the sun and then baked in a wood fire. While still
hot, it is painted with gum copal which renders it water-tight.
[Illustration: YOUNG COFFEE TREES AT COQUILHATVILLE.]
At dinner we have a dish called _beefsteak American_. formed apparently
of very tender, cold meat with green salad and mayonnaise. On asking
however, we hear it is the raw flesh of goat cut up small. It is
certainly the best way of eating goat's flesh, for any method of cooking
seems to extract what little juice it possesses and convert it into a
substance resembling old leather. The name is curious, for it is neither
beef nor steak, and is probably as rare in America as Irish stew is in
Ireland or Welsh rarebit in Wales.
There are some very fine canoes here, very often carved throughout their
entire length, a favourite device being a crocodile. Two or three very
large _tom-toms_. are also in the village. These instruments are carved
from a solid piece of a tree six or eight feet long, most of the
interior being extracted through a narrow slit-like aperture two or
three inches wide and running nearly the length of the tom-tom. The
result is a hollow instrument, giving one or two different notes when
struck in different parts which can be heard for many miles. In case of
war, the whole country side can be quickly aroused, but the _tom-tom_.
is also used during peace as a telegraph.
At Imese two soldiers and their future brides came on board for the
purpose of travelling to Libenge to be married, for only Commissaires of
Districts and Missionaries can legally join two into one. The send off
was quite pretty, the happy couples being pelted with flowers as they
stepped on board, while one friend--perhaps a kind of best man--threw
his cap into the river. The State encourages regular marriages,
especially among the soldiers. The wife then works in the gardens or
plantations, while her husband drills, and returns at midday and in the
evening to cook his food.
Next day we reach Dongo, a village situated on a hill perhaps 200 feet
high. After looking at flat forest for weeks, this appears a veritable
mountain and it seems quite a stiff climb up the rough path constructed
as usual only by the feet of the people who have used it. Mr. Vannini,
an Italian officer, is constructing a Post here with the aid of some ten
or fifteen soldiers. Dongo is a very large village containing perhaps
3000 people and the huts are arranged in streets running parallel to
each other with their ends towards the river. The physique of the people
is very good indeed, some of the men being more than six feet in height.
The women mostly wear copper collars, three inches high and with a
second horizontal collar attached on the outside. The whole is hammered
on and must be intensely uncomfortable. A special pillow, consisting of
a piece of wood hollowed out for the head is necessary, as sleep would
otherwise be impossible with such a contrivance round the neck. A great
number of children run about and seem to be well nourished. Some have
large heads and protruding stomachs, without however, other signs of
_rickets_. Many of the men are painted with yellow stripes, an
indication that they have killed their man in battle, and these donned
their fighting clothes of many colours and with shields and spears posed
to be photographed, dancing around and uttering wild war whoops. A human
skull partly buried in the middle of a road is evidently a souvenir of
the terrible orgy which followed some recent encounter. Indeed all the
people here are cannibals and those killed or captured in war, except
women and children, are always eaten. When not fighting, the people
fish, collect rubber, grow kwanga and generally work fairly well and are
not troublesome. Mr. Vannini, however, evidently thinks it safer to
erect a high stockade around his house and the huts of the soldiers.
This is a wise precaution, as only a few months ago four French traders
were killed and eaten on the opposite bank of the river.
After passing several densely populated villages, one of which extends
in a straight line for ten miles, we reach Libenge, the capital of the
Ubangi District. The houses here have been arranged around a square with
one side open to the river. In one of these we take up our quarters and
then go for a stroll with Captain Bertrand, the Commissaire of the
District, and Dr. Rhodain, the medical officer for Ubangi. The latter
states that he has only seen two cases of sleeping sickness in several
years' residence and that there is no syphilis, small-pox or
tuberculosis in the neighbourhood. The people work well here,--the
villagers collecting the usual kilogramme per month, while the workers
in the plantations clear the forest and plant more rubber for future
use. The hunting here is very good in the dry season. Now however, it is
necessary to wade in water three feet deep in the forest. Spoor of
elephant and antelope abound and there are several magnificent eagles
and hawks overhead.
The chief difficulty here for Europeans is the water question. Although
much of this necessity is on all sides, it is not of good drinking
quality and dysentery is therefore common, while bilious fever and
hematuria are also known.
One night at Libenge as we were playing bridge, the sentry suddenly
fired and the bullet whistled uncomfortably close by the door of our
house. The guard turned out very quickly without any fuss and passed at
the double. A single sharp order was given and then all was quiet again.
Next day we heard that a thief had penetrated to the rubber store when
he was seen by the sentry, who fired the alarm, but the man was not
captured. All the natives here seem anxious to trade. Ladies sell us
their brass bangles for a tea cup full of salt and their dresses for a
similar amount. Spears, knives and many other curios are also offered
for sale some of which have evidently been hastily made since our
arrival.
We leave Libenge on September 9th and continue our journey in the
_Florida_, this being her first trip up the river higher than this point
for at low water, the rapids above cannot be navigated by steamers at
all. Now however, the depth is almost at its maximum, and as the boat
only draws two feet, she can pass over the rocks with great ease. In the
afternoon we stop at a village and ask for wood, for as there was no
regular steamer service, there were no organised Wood Posts. The natives
at first brought down a log or two and demanded payment at an exorbitant
rate, which the captain refused to give, and it became necessary for our
crew to go ashore and cut wood themselves. The Chief seemed willing to
deal fairly, but evidently had little authority over his lazy people.
Then on again through the tornado, which at this season appears daily
with great regularity either in the afternoon or at night time. The
scenery is now changing, for we are approaching the limits of the great
equatorial forest. Hills, which appear like mountains, after the dead
level, can be seen in front covered with grass and a few trees.
On September 10th, we reach Songo a small State Post in charge of a
native from Sierra Leone. Here we pitch our tents in a clearing and
proceed to re-arrange the baggage, for we shall have now to travel in
canoes, the river not being navigable for steamers for some distance.
Immediately above Songo indeed is the first of the Ubangi rapids, the
water roaring and hissing as it fights its way down and over the rocks.
Just before bedtime, Chikaia comes with a long face and evidently much
disturbed and asks for a gun or rifle to protect himself, as the
_indigènes_ are supposed to be very savage here. This of course I
refuse, and tell him to go to sleep by the fire and not be foolish.
However, I notice that both my rifle and gun are loaded and carefully
placed by my bedside. The boys then organise a watch over the baggage,
taking it in turn to act as sentry. On the opposite side of the river is
Bangi, the second most important place in the French Congo, prettily
situated on the side of a hill, and next day we cross in a small canoe.
The journey is interesting and exciting. Below the rapids are many small
whirlpools, and the capita of the canoe takes advantage of these to help
him on his course. Sometimes the water at the upper and sometimes at the
lower edge of the whirlpool is flowing in the direction he wishes to
take and with wonderful dexterity, he turns the bow of the canoe towards
a suitable current. We swing about like a cork and ship a good deal of
water but arrive without mishap on the other side. We call on Mr.
Jacques, the Vice Governor General of the French Congo, who kindly
offers us assistance and a few soldiers to act as sentries and
interpreters when we camp on the French side of the river. Most of these
are Senegalese and are smart looking fellows. The natives here affect a
very elaborate head dress consisting of many coloured beads twisted and
plaited into their hair, the amount of time and patience required by the
barbers being enormous.
It appears that the four French traders, who were massacred a few weeks
ago, had two factories, one close to the river and one further inland.
In the latter was a large stock of arms and ammunition. These were
hastily abandoned and the natives then seized them and attacked the
factory on the river. All four white men were killed and it is feared
that two were first tied to trees and tortured. A punitive expedition
has been sent against the tribe who are now armed with these modern
rifles and the moral of the story is obviously that it is very dangerous
to permit traders to import and sell arms at all.
One night I was awakened and saw the boys dancing excitedly about the
fire and in front of my tent. Having asked the matter, Chikaia, whose
zoological knowledge is very limited, replied _il est la petite bête_.
This sounded like mosquitoes so, having tucked in my net more closely, I
turned round to sleep. A few minutes afterwards, Lord Mountmorres
appeared shouting with pain and mounting a chair in front of my tent
rapidly peeled off his clothes. He said his bed was full of great black
ants which had fixed on his skin and were biting him all over. Millions
of these pests indeed were on the camping ground but had as yet not
reached my tent. Hastily pulling on high boots and covering myself from
head to foot, I cautiously crept out of the tent and found the ground
black with ants. It was impossible to kill them by stamping about for
they were simply driven into the soft sand and wriggled out again the
moment the foot was withdrawn. We were evidently in the line of march of
a migrating host and were forced to beat a hasty retreat leaving the
insects in full possession.
There is no drinking water at Songo, so we had to boil and filter that
from the river. This proved very difficult, for even after allowing it
to settle and then carefully decanting it, there was so much mud left,
that the pores of the porcelain candles in the filters frequently became
blocked. We had therefore to be content with muddy water well boiled. As
we had a fair amount of baggage, we required sixty or seventy paddlers
and it was not easy to find so many. At length however, after searching
on both sides of the river, crews were collected for three large canoes
and we arranged to continue our journey on September 14th.
The canoes were lifted up the Songo rapids empty, while the baggage was
carried along the bank. It was then stowed in the boats and having
taken our places we made a start. The method of propulsion is very
interesting to watch. The canoes are sixty or seventy feet long and
three or four wide. In the centre is an awning to shade the white man
and in front by the bows, a space is left about ten feet long in which
three pole men work. These use their poles as in punting, except that
the ends are forked, so that they are enabled to push either against the
bottom of the river or rocks, or branches of trees on the bank, for the
canoe keeps close to the shore all the time in order to give the polemen
an opportunity and also to avoid the swifter current running in the
centre of the river. In the stern twenty or thirty paddlers sit on the
sides of the boat and work together, while on the extreme end two or
three stand up with long paddles to steer. The cook with his fire built
on a heap of clay in the bottom of the canoe, sits among the paddlers
and the sentries and baggage tuck themselves in somewhere, for it is
wonderful how many people and how much baggage these canoes will carry.
Soon after starting we pass the Catholic Mission on the French bank and
immediately begin to fight a rapid. The paddlers strain every muscle,
the pole men push with all their strength against rocks and tree trunks
and the soldiers help by pulling on branches of trees or anything else
which is fixed. The water whirls past as we creep up inch by inch. At
one moment gaining, at another losing, the excitement being intense, for
if once we are conquered by the stream, the canoe will probably be
broken to pieces on the rocks. At times some of the crew jump out and
clinging with their feet to the rocks, while up to their middle in the
torrent, push the boat up with all their strength. At length smooth
water is reached and on we go quietly for an hour or two, when another
rapid is reached and the struggle commences again. The work is intensely
hard and dangerous, but the Sangos are expert boatmen and seem anxious
to finish their task as soon as possible. In rough water or smooth, the
crews race along, singing, shouting and encouraging each other to make
one more effort. After an exciting and tiring day we reach a village and
having seen the crews rationed, pitch our tents.
On again at 6.30. a.m. in a heavy river mist which however, is soon
dispersed as the sun rises. The rapids, which at first had the
excitement of novelty, began to pall for it was tiresome not being able
to read or sleep without being disturbed by the possibility of a bath in
a current running, at the rate of perhaps fifteen miles an hour, between
rocks. Towards sunset we reach the site of Bokanda, a village now
deserted, for some years ago the Chief with his people migrated across
the river to the French side. We decide therefore, to sleep in the new
village and proceed to cross, but are still in mid stream when we see
the majority of the people running away into the forest behind, the
women gathering up their children and household utensils, while the men
followed more leisurely. The Chief however, and a few braves appear on
the beach with guns and for a moment it looks as though they mean
mischief. They evidently however think better of it, for we land
unmolested and send interpreters to say we are hunters and only desire a
place for our camp and food for our men. The Chief at once advances and
gives us chickens and eggs while the soldiers pitch the tents in the
square of the village.
On again at daybreak, the journey being still more tiring, for it is
impossible to force the canoes heavily laden up some of the cataracts.
We have therefore to land three times and while the baggage is carried
along the bank, the empty canoes are hauled up with ropes. At length the
elephant rapids are safely negotiated and an hour or two afterwards
Mokoangai is reached but in three long days' hard work, we have ascended
only about thirty miles of the river.
At Mokoangai is a large plantation and farm and well built houses for
the one or two white men who live there. Next day I start before
daybreak hunting. The country is open and hilly, covered generally with
grass eight or ten feet high. Still there are many places where the
ground is almost bare and it is an ideal spot for stalking game. After
walking a few miles in a mist, we see several antelopes and endeavour to
stalk them. While still nearly a hundred yards away, they commence to
walk slowly towards cover but it is possible to get a fair side shot and
one falls heavily hit in the shoulder. Soon after an elephant suddenly
appears about two hundred yards ahead walking along the crest of a hill.
Sending the native hunter to pick up the antelope, Chikaia and I follow
the elephant's spoor for some hours, but do not come up with it or find
other game. We were now high up on the range of hills behind Mokoangai
and the view was magnificent. The great river could be seen winding its
way between the hills covered with the vivid greens only to be found in
damp tropical countries. Otherwise the picture somewhat recalled
central Wales with a Wye magnified a hundred times. Chikaia had walked a
long way carrying a heavy rifle, and now showed signs of fatigue so he
was encouraged by being allowed to shoot a monkey on the way home.
Next day being Sunday, we rest quietly in the Post and prepare to leave
next morning in the _Aia_ which is one of the first launches Stanley
took to Africa and is therefore, somewhat ancient. Since she is too
small to carry much baggage, she tows a large open iron boat nearly the
same size alongside. In this the camp is slowed and the boys and
soldiers take their places sitting on the bales and cases, and we make a
start on Monday September 19th for Banzyville. Fortunately there are no
rapids in this stretch of the river and it is at least possible to stand
up comfortably in the launch, whereas in the canoes, it was necessary to
sit still in a long hammock chair for practically twelve hours each day.
The people and villages now change much in appearance for the huts are
shaped like beehives and are made of frameworks of wood covered with
grass. The entrance is only about three feet high and the dome of the
roof perhaps four times that height. In some of them a kind of platform
is erected which seems to be an attempt to make a two storey building of
the hut. The women are here either quite nude or wear a small piece of
cloth or grass below the waist; the men however all have a loin cloth.
All the people seem to be of fine physique and the proportion of
children is abnormally high. The first night we stop at a trading post
of the Dutch Company on the French side of the river and are hospitably
received by the agents there.
Next day we reach the Catholic Mission of Sainte Famille also on French
territory. The Fathers have laid out a large plantation and farm;
horses, cattle, sheep, goats and poultry all doing well. Indeed modern
American ploughs and carts give the farm quite a home-like appearance.
Maize, oranges, bananas, pineapples and many vegetables are here in
abundance. Sleeping Sickness is not known, which immunity is attributed
by the priests to the fact that the natives have plenty of fresh meat
and eat little kwanga. Apparently the disease is due to a bacillus. It
is however, at least possible that the new diet of the civilised native
may be a predisposing factor. The savage is naturally carnivorous and
before the advent of the white man, had little to eat but animal flesh.
Now his chief article of diet in the western parts of the Congo is
kwanga, which consists chiefly of starch, and he has only a little meat
and fish. Along the Congo where the native is civilised, there is much
sleeping sickness, but along the Ubangi where he is more savage, there
is practically none. The Fathers give us some spirits distilled from the
papye and pineapple which are very good and beer made from maize which
is not. They then show us round the grounds and before we leave load us
with eggs and fresh vegetables which are very acceptable. At sunset we
tie up to the bank and make a camp. It is wonderful how quickly the
grass is cut down, the tents erected, fires lighted and dinner cooked,
for when the native knows he has to perform a certain definite task, he
works hard, so that he can eat his dinner and get to sleep as soon as
possible. Chikaia apparently has a fine sense of satire or humour. A
table was broken and when I asked how it was done, Chikaia instead of
answering "it has been done a long time" as an European servant would,
went one better and said "it has always been like that." "I suppose it
was made so," I replied. "Yes, Sir" was the answer and there was no more
to be said.
The banks of the river are here lined with villages and each time we
stop crowds run to see the steamer, while the Chief comes on board,
shakes hands solemnly and presents eggs, chicken or a goat. In return we
hand back a good value in cloth, beads or salt. Mitakos are not seen
here at all, for beads are used instead. The natives always seemed
grateful and satisfied with their presents, which was rarely the case on
the Congo where the people generally grumble even when they receive many
times the value of the article they sell. We camp at the village of Dru,
where we find it very difficult to pitch tents owing to the rocky nature
of the soil.
On September 22nd we reach the Kuangu river where is situated the chief
post of a French Trading Company. The buildings are as usual of bricks,
the mortar being made of the shells of river oysters and sand. Soon
after our arrival, a poor native was brought in whose hand had been
terribly mangled in a circular saw. We dressed it as carefully as
possible and fixed it on a splint until he could reach a post with a
hospital. In the night however, weird chanting was heard and next day we
discovered that his friends had been exorcising the evil spirits--i.e.
the perchloride of mercury in which the hand had been washed--had torn
off all the bandages and sent the boy a way in a canoe to avoid the
white medicine man. The hand will almost certainly fall off and the
further history of the boy will perhaps be interesting. One of the
traders, Mr. Constantine, a Swiss, said he had been stationed in the
interior and had heard no news since January. We are only able to bring
him up to June, three months behind date. This gentleman has had an
interesting career. He fought for England in the Matabele war and then
settled in the Orange Free State where he was commandeered by Cronje and
forced into the trenches at Magersfontein, but to his own great
satisfaction was soon taken prisoner by the British and was very well
treated. He now lives absolutely alone, without a guard of any sort,
some days' journey from the river and feels quite safe, for the natives
here look upon a white man as a protection from the Arabs. This Company
trades in rubber with the natives, paying in beads at the rate of 40
centimes a kilogramme. It is therefore, unlikely that many natives
migrate to the French Congo where they receive no more pay for their
work than in the State, and are besides taxed. The country behind the
station is flat veldt and only a few small elephants are occasionally
found. The usual heavy tornado bursts in the afternoon nearly filling
the launch and boat with water in a very short time. Having bought some
wine and other stores, from the Company we next day continue up the
river past many villages all densely populated. The architecture has
again changed, the huts now being tent shaped and rising to a point in
the centre which is sometimes ornamented with a pair of antelope horns.
Some of the villages have plantations and all the inhabitants seem
desirous to trade, salt being the substance usually demanded in return
for lances, knives or curios. Indeed, even our own people wish to do a
little business, and after buying articles from the villagers, try to
sell them to us at no doubt a greatly enhanced price. The higher one
travels up the river, the more numerous and densely populated are the
villages until they extend almost without a break for many miles along
the banks. Each one supplies us with a _bras_ of wood which is paid for
with beads. The scenery here in the very centre of Africa is beautiful,
range after range of hills, not however very high, extending as far as
the eye can see. These are covered with grass, which near the villages
is often burnt off, leaving black patches. On these the manioc will be
planted for two years and then new areas will be cleared in the same
manner. It is very hot in the day time and very humid, so that it is
extremely difficult to preserve anything. Stitches rot in leather and
the soles of boots fall off, guns and rifles have to be oiled carefully
every day and cigars are completely spoilt in a few hours unless kept in
tin boxes. Can one wonder therefore that the human system soon breaks
down in this vapour bath and that sickness is very common in this part.
There is not much game to be seen from the river but occasionally a
covey of partridges rises from the grass and comes within gun shot of
the launch.
The day before we reached Banzyville we found the steamer of the French
Company and paid a visit to the Director, where we drank to the
Anglo-French agreement, news of which had just arrived. Every Frenchman
in Africa is delighted with the gift of territory as every Englishman
should be with the settlement of so many prickly questions.
[Illustration: SANGO NATIVES OF THE UBANGI.]
[Illustration: THE UPPER UBANGI]