January 27, 1907.
THE actors in the Congo drama are now clearly before us—the black man
and the white man, the state official, the trader, and the missionary.
Travel in the Congo state is, naturally, for the most part by water. The
mighty river is the main member in a water system surpassed only by that
of the Amazon. The Congo itself presents a total length of almost 3,000
miles, of which more than 2,000 is navigable. The vast network of
tributary streams, with a total length of almost 17,000 miles, gives
nearly 5,000 miles more of navigation connected with that of the main
river.
To-day these thousands of miles of navigation are utilized by a fleet of
steamers eighty or more in number. Most of these are vessels of the
state; a smaller number belong to the great concession companies; a few
are the property of the missions. Many of them are small, but some of
the more recent steamers constructed for the state are vessels of 400
tons burden. They are flat-bottomed steamers of small draft, because the
rivers through which they ply are often shoaled by sand banks. Even the
mighty Congo itself, at certain seasons of the year, becomes dangerous
and almost impassable, even for vessels of this light draft. By means of
these boats it is easy now for travelers not only to go over the chief
part of the main river but to enter the larger tributaries at their
mouth and travel for hundreds of miles up towards their sources.
It can be well imagined with what surprise the natives saw the first
steamer. The pioneer vessels were brought in pieces to the head of
navigation for sea steamers, and then transported by human carriers the
weary distance from Vivi, near Matadi, around the cataracts to Stanley
Pool, where the parts were assembled and the vessels prepared for
service. Some of the earliest steamers are still in service, and, while
they have been eclipsed in size and power and speed by later vessels,
have a true historic interest. No vessel on the Congo deserves more or
has a better record than the Peace. This was the earliest of the mission
steamers, presented to the B. M. S. by Robert Arthington of Leeds,
England. It was throughout its history in charge of George Grenfell, the
intrepid missionary explorer, whose death took place during our stay in
the Congo.
We saw the little vessel at Yakusu, and looked at it with especial
interest. In it George Grenfell explored many thousand miles of unknown
waterway. With it he made the study which enabled him to construct the
best navigation maps and charts so far published of the Congo—charts
which the state still uses on its own steamers.
The state steamers are, of course, primarily for the service of the
state. So far as the main river is concerned, a steamer is started from
Leopoldville for the trip to Stanley Falls every ten days, taking from
twenty-four to thirty days to make the journey. The down trip requires
less time, and can be made under favorable circumstances in fourteen
days—the usual time being seventeen or more. By these steamers state
officials are taken to their posts, workmen and soldiers are transported
to their place of service, chopboxes and other supplies are taken to the
state employés, materials for construction are taken to the place where
needed, products, such as rubber, ivory, and copal, are brought to
Leopoldville for shipment. Generally they are well loaded with both
passengers and cargo.
The company boats do for the company what state boats do for the
state—transporting from place to place, bringing in supplies, taking
out products. Similarly the mission steamers are intended solely for the
movement of the missionaries and their supplies. The state boats may
carry freight and passengers, but only when they are not loaded fully
with the materials of the state. Arrangements must be made by strangers,
and it is only when the state is favorable that they may travel or ship
goods. The company boats are not allowed to carry outside passengers or
freight without the express permission of the state, but are obliged to
carry state people and freight in cases of especial need. If a mission
steamer carries outside passengers or freight, it can do it only
gratuitously.
In the steamers of the state the traveler who has permission to embark
upon them pays for a ticket, which entitles him merely to
transportation; he is expected to pay five francs a night additional for
his cabin; for food he pays twelve francs per day during the period of
the voyage. The steamers of every class tie up at evening, and no
traveling is done at night. In steamers of the larger class there may be
as many as four white employés—the captain, his assistant, a
commissaire, or steward, and the engineer. In smaller steamers there are
only the captain and the engineer. All the crew and employés in the
cabins, mess, and deck are blacks. In steamers with an upper deck, the
blacks are expected to stay below; only when called for special service
are they allowed on deck.
No black man remains on board during the night. Even the personal
servants, or boys, of the white passengers must go with the crew and
other workmen on to shore to spend the night. As promptly as the ship is
fastened, the black men, women, and children, with cooking utensils,
food supplies, bedding, and beds, hasten off on to shore to pick out the
spot on the bank, or in the forest, where they will spend the night. It
is an animated and curious scene. As darkness comes on, the fires for
cooking their evening food have been kindled here and there over the
terrace or in the forest, and the groups gathered around them while the
cooking proceeds, or eating takes place, are picturesque in the extreme.
At daybreak the steamer whistles the signal for all on board, and the
whole mob come rushing—for no time is lost, and it is easy to be left
behind in the forest—pellmell on board.
The fuel for the steamers is wood, cut from the forest. One of the most
serious problems which the state has had to face is the securing of
sufficient and continuous fuel supply. Wood-posts have been established
wherever possible; the natives at the wood-posts are required to supply,
in form of tax, for which a small compensation is, however, returned, a
certain number of yards or fathoms of wood. A space is marked out on the
ground as many yards in length as there are cutters of wood. Stakes are
placed at intervals of a yard and ropes are stretched from one to
another at a yard’s height. Each bringer of wood is expected to fill the
space indicated for him to supply. Much time is lost, even under the
best circumstances, in taking wood at these wood-posts. Whenever
possible, the night’s landing is made at a wood-post, and as large a
supply of fuel as possible is brought on board during the night.
Sometimes it happens that several steamers reach a wood-post in quick
succession before a new supply has been procured; under such
circumstances the crew frequently must cut wood for itself in the
forest, a task which they greatly dislike.
In each crew is a capita or head man, whose business it is to oversee
the work and to assign the portions of the task. He is held responsible
for the service of his subordinates, and usually is more successful in
securing prompt, efficient service than a white man would be. He is
himself, of course, frequently watched and directed by a white officer,
but on the whole he is the one man on the vessel who comes into direct
contact with the black laborers.
It is extremely interesting to watch the black hands on a steamer when
for any reason landing is made at villages. Many of them have bought a
stock in trade at Leopoldville. Beads, pieces of bright cloth, salt,
accordions, made-up clothes, hats, umbrellas—these are the things they
are most likely to have brought with them. A crowd of women and children
always flocks to the landing, and quickly the bartering begins. If the
steamer-boy has had experience, he makes money both coming and going.
All the product of his sales en route between Leo and Stanley Falls he
at once invests in rice when he reaches the district in which it is so
largely produced. This forms his capital upon his return to
Leopoldville, where it brings a price largely in excess of what it cost
him and enables him to stock up again for new business on his next
voyage.
Our first long voyage on these river steamers was the journey from
Leopoldville to Wissmann Falls, on the High Kasai. We were in a steamer
of the Kasai company, and we had hard luck in wood-posts, frequently
arriving when earlier steamers had taken all the fuel. We were forced
repeatedly to tie up for the night close by the forest and to drive our
force of cutters into the dense, almost impenetrable, mass of trees,
bound together by hundreds and thousands of creeping plants and vines.
The natives not only do not enjoy the cutting of the wood; but they do
not like to be turned out into the dense forest for sleeping.
Particularly after a heavy rain, conditions are disagreeable for
sleeping. Many a time it seemed hard to force them to pass the night in
such conditions, on the wet ground, under the dripping foliage, in
haunts of mosquitos and other insects.
While we were in the Kasai country the governor-general made his journey
of inspection throughout the upper Congo. When we reached that district
in our later journey we found that he had ordered a most excellent
reform, which had been carried out. The steamers were put under orders
to stop at wood-posts or at villages every night, tying up against the
forest only on those rare occasions, when it was unavoidable. The order
also provided for the immediate erection at all wood-posts and villages
of a great hangar for the shelter of the black people. A hangar is a
substantial roof, supported on posts, for giving shelter at night or in
rainy weather. These hangars for the shelter of the black people from
the steamers are enormous things, capable of sheltering 150 to 200
people and giving ample opportunity for the building, by each little
group, of its own fire for cooking and for warmth. While the natural
travel in the Congo Free State is by boat upon the river, there is, of
course, land travel as well.
There are almost no beasts of burden in the country. Horses seem to lose
all force and vigor; oxen suffer in many districts from the tsetse fly.
The State has made several interesting experiments in its effort to
secure some animal of burden. Indian elephants have been brought into
the country, partly with the view of using them as carriers and partly
in the hope that they might be used in the domestication of the African
elephant. At present, of course, the latter animal has the reputation of
being untamable, though for several hundred years in history we know
that it was tamed and used on a large scale for draft and war. The
experiments so far made toward its recent domestication have not met
with much result. Camels have been introduced as an experiment, and in
Leopoldville one sees a little cluster of them under an imported Arab
driver.
In the district where the zebra is at home, efforts are being made now
to tame that animal and use it for practical purposes. But
notwithstanding all these interesting experiments, some of which
ultimately may be successful, it must be stated that at present there is
absolutely no beast of burden in the Congo. The result is that land
travel must be done by caravan. The outfit of the traveler, his trade
stuffs, and whatever else he may have for transportation, must be
carried on human backs.
With the exception of a few experimental roads built with reference to
the introduction of automobiles for moving freight, there is nothing
which we would call a road in all the Congo. The native, on the march,
always go in single file. The trails leading from village to village are
only a few inches wide, though they are usually well worn, sometimes to
a depth of several inches into the soil. Most of them are in use so
constantly that there is little or no grass growing in them. For my own
part, when they are dry I could ask no better path for travel, and my
ideal of African travel is the foot journey over the native trails.
Many white men do not like to walk, and must have their hammock. It is a
simple hammock, usually made of a strip of foreign stuff swung by ropes
to a long bamboo or palm pole. Unless the person to be carried is
extraordinarily heavy, there will be two or four carriers. When four men
are carrying a hammock, two in front and two behind shoulder the pole at
its two ends. Usually the carriers swing along at a sort of dog trot.
Frequently they strike their palms against the carrying pole to make a
noise, and indulge in an explosive snort in taking breath. They may sing
or shout or cry when carrying, and if they approach a settlement, either
native or foreign, their pace quickens, their exertion increases, they
cry and yell with great force, increasing their noise and outcry with
the importance of the person carried. When they rush up to the place
where he is expected to dismount, the whole party bursts into a loud
yell, which would appall the bravest if he never had heard it before, as
they stop suddenly.
For my own part, I can imagine nothing more disagreeable than traveling
in a hammock. The four men rarely are on the same level, and the jolting
and movement up and down, now of one’s head and upper body, now of one’s
feet tilted high in air, are extremely disagreeable; from one’s position
he must look up constantly into the sky and see nothing of the country
through which he travels; if the sun shines, his face must be shaded,
and if one wears, as he usually must do, his cork helmet, it is
difficult to adjust it in any way other than putting it over the face.
Personally, I invariably have a half-day of fever after a hammock
journey. I would rather walk thirty miles every day than to go twenty in
a hammock.
There are still opportunities in the Congo for making fine journeys on
foot. From Stanley Falls to the English steamer on the Lake is a foot
journey of forty days over a good road. If I had had the time, I should
have made that journey.
There are at present two operating railroads in the Congo Free State,
besides a little line of a few miles running from Boma into the country
back. The more important of these two roads is the Congo Railroad,
running from Matadi to Leopoldville. Before its building it took freight
three weeks to go by caravan around the cataracts. The engineering
difficulties of this line were all in its early course within a few
miles of Matadi. Several years were spent in the construction of the
road, which has a total length of about 250 miles. It is a narrow-gauge
road, well-built, and fairly equipped. After a train once starts it is
entirely in the hands of black men as no white conductor or engineer is
employed in its running.
Two classes of cars are run, one for whites, first-class, the other for
blacks. The fare for first-class passage from Matadi to Leopoldville at
the time we made the journey was 200 francs, or $40; the second-class,
jimcrow-car fare, was 40 francs, or $8. The journey requires two days
for its accomplishment. Starting from Matadi at 7 in the morning, the
train reaches Thysville at 5 or 6 in the evening, and stays there for
the night. Starting at 7 the next morning, it is expected to reach
Leopoldville at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, but usually is from half an
hour to two hours behind time. The road, during the period of its
construction, was often considered a wild speculation, but it has paid
remarkably well, and its stock sells at an advance of many hundreds per
cent upon face value.
The second serious obstacle to Congo navigation—the Stanley Falls—is
got around in a similar way by a railroad line just finished. This line
of railroad from Stanleyville to Ponthierville, is about 75 miles in
length. It has just been finished and at the time of our visit, while it
was transporting passengers on account of the state, was not open to
general travel. We had the pleasure, however, of going the full length
of the line, a journey which required some eight hours. The whole course
of the railroad is included in dense forest, and nothing is to be seen
in all the journey except the forest. There is no question that this
little piece of tracking will have great business importance. Hundreds
of miles of navigable water lie above Ponthierville, and steamers—both
state and railroad—are already plying upon it. A country of great
resources is by it brought into near relations with that portion of the
Congo already developed. This piece of road forms but a small part of
the line planned, which is known by the name of the Great Lakes
railroad. Construction is in progress upon another section of it.
While we made our journey from Stanleyville to Ponthierville by rail, we
made the return journey by canoe, in order to see the rapids. Of course,
the construction of the railroad had already affected this old route and
mode of travel. Until lately all passengers and freight going up the
Congo beyond Stanleyville were forced to make the journey by canoe.
It is the district of the Congo where the canoe reaches its fullest
development and most striking expression. There are canoes cut from a
single tree-trunk which will carry tons of freight and scores of men.
Some of the great native chiefs had canoes of state in which they were
paddled from place to place by a hundred or more paddlers. While the one
in which we made our journey was by no means so pretentious, it was
certainly large enough for all practical purposes. An awning, or rather
a thatched roofing, extended over the middle third of its length to
protect us and our things from the sun. An officer of the state, an
Italian, accompanied us through half our journey to see that we met with
prompt and proper treatment. And two native soldiers were deputed to
accompany us the total distance and to take the canoe in charge when we
finally reached the landing at Stanley Falls. It was a most interesting
experience, for nothing that I had read had prepared me for so well
developed a system.
When we came to the rapids we and our stuff were landed. The signal had
been given as we approached the beach, and by the time that we were
ready to take the trail around the rapids the women of the native
village had presented themselves with carrying straps, ready to move our
freight. In ten minutes time everything was ready and the caravan upon
its way, twenty or thirty women carrying our boxes, satchels,
provisions, and collections. Meantime, our paddlers were occupied in
passing the canoe down through the rapids, and by the time we reached
the lower beach they were there ready for re-embarkation. We took five
days for our journey, though it might have been done in half that time
or even less.
At each village where we landed we found arrangements for the traveler.
A neat house of two or three rooms, constructed by the state, was at our
disposition. It was supplied with table, chairs, and beds. Near the
house for white travelers was a comfortable hangar for blacks, and near
it a large hangar for the storage of freight and baggage. The paddlers
who started with us at Ponthierville were dismissed after a day of
service and a new set of paddlers taken on, furnished by the village
chief. These, after a few hours of service, were again at liberty, and a
new crew supplied. Everything was done with promptitude and readiness.
The journey was one of the most interesting I ever made.
You understand, of course, that all this service, the carrying of
freight around the rapids by the women of the village and the supplying
of male paddlers by the chief were taxes to the state, for which a
nominal return in money or trade goods is allowed. At no point did we
see the slightest evidence of difficulty in furnishing the service or of
dissatisfaction in supplying it. Everywhere the people seemed to take it
as a pleasant thing. It is entirely possible that when the caravan
service was at its height and all freighting and traveling was done upon
the river, it may have been a heavier burden. But nowhere did the people
seem to show fear, hostility, or the effects of bad treatment. If we had
made the long walking trip above referred to, from Stanleyville to the
Lake, we would have found analogous arrangements for the traveler’s
comfort. Good sleeping-houses, with necessary furniture, occur at
intervals of four or five hours throughout the entire journey, and no
one need sleep out of doors a single night, unless he chooses to do so.
It will be seen that one to-day may go easily throughout the enormous
area of the Congo Free State without serious hardship and really with
much comfort. But, as a matter of fact, there are almost no true
travelers in the area. One can hardly call a state official, on his way
to his post, or going from place to place in the performance of his
duty, a traveler. Nor is a company agent, making his tour for the
collection of rubber, or for inspection of property, exactly one’s ideal
of a traveler. Nor is the missionary, coming back from furlough or going
home invalided, a traveler. The number of actual travelers in the Congo
at any time is small. My photographer and myself, I think, might be
called travelers.
We spent fifty-three weeks in the Congo Free State. During the period of
time that we were there we learned that Mr. A. Henry Savage-Landor spent
a few days in the High Ubangi. He came in from the north, visited only
one station of a company, and then went out again. Mr. Harrison, who,
some little time ago, took a group of pygmies from the High Ituri forest
to London, was again in the country, though he had left his little
people behind him.
At the same time, an English gentleman was hunting the okapi (that
curious antelope) in the same district. When we were coming out and were
delayed at Leopoldville, a Capt. Daniels of the English navy arrived at
Leopoldville, having made his way across the continent from the east
coast. At Bolengi we met a Mr. Creighton, an American clergyman, who had
made the way so far from Mombasa. Mr. Verner, bringing back his native
group from the St. Louis exposition, was in the Congo during the same
period.
On the steamer coming down from Stanley Falls, we had for fellow
passengers, M. and Mme. Cabra. M. Cabra was a royal commissioner, having
been sent to the country by Leopold himself, to make a careful
examination of conditions throughout the whole upper region of the Ituri
and Congo rivers. M. and Mme. Cabra entered Africa at Mombasa; they had
traversed on foot the forty days of journey I have referred to, but as
the purposes of their investigation required them to zigzag back and
forth instead of following a direct path, they had occupied a much
longer period of time and covered much more distance. Eighteen months on
their long journey, they both of them reached Matadi in good health, and
Mme. Cabra is probably the first lady to have crossed the African
continent in the equatorial regions from ocean to ocean.
Now, these were the only travelers besides one Frenchman, who was a
mystery, of whom we heard or whom we met in our fifty-three weeks in
Congo experience. It is unlikely that there were many others. The
stranger in the Congo is talked of everywhere. We were not within
hundreds of miles of Henry Savage-Landor, or Mr. Harrison, or the okapi
hunter, but we heard of their existence. Even if the given list is but
the half of Congo travelers during the year, it can be seen that the
real traveler is a rarity within the limits of the state.