The article proves hypsometrically that the Lualaba, in which the

explorer found the head waters of the Egyptian river, cannot feed

the Tanganyika nor the Lake Nzige (N'zíghe, Mwutan, Chowambe, or

Albert Nyanza Lake), nor even the Bahr el Ghazal, as was once

suspected. From the latter, indeed, it is barred by the water

parting of the Welle, the "Babura" of Jules Poncet (1860), in the

land of the Monbuttú; whose system the later explorer, Dr.

Schweinfurth, is disposed to connect with the Shari.

Hydrometrically considered, the Lualaba, which at Nyangwe, the

most northerly point explored by Dr. Livingstone (1870), rolls a

flood of 124,000 cubic feet per second in the dry season, cannot

be connected either with the Welle (5,100 cubic feet), nor with

the Bahr el Ghazal (3,042 to 6,500 cubic feet), nor with the Nile

below the mouth of the Bahr el Ghazal (11,330); nor with the

Shari (67,500); nor with the shallow Ogobe, through its main

forks the Rembo Okanda and the Rembo Nguye.

But the Lualaba may issue through the Congo. The former is made

one of the four streams ferried over by those travelling from the

Cazembe to the Mwata ya Nvo, and Dr. de Lacarda[FN#22] records it

as the "Guarava," probably a dialectic form of Lualava. It is the

Luapula of the "Geographer of N'yassi," who, with his usual

felicity and boldness of conjecture (p. 38), bends it eastward,

and discharges it into his mythical Central Sea.

Dr. Behm greatly under-estimates the Congo when he assigns to it

only 1,800,000 cubic feet per second. He makes the great artery

begin to rise in November instead of September and decrease in

April, without noticing the March-June freshets, reported by all

the natives to measure about one-third of the autumnal floods.

His elements are taken from Tuckey, who found off the "Diamond

Rock" a velocity of 3.50 knots an hour, and from Vidal's Chart,

showing 9,000 English feet or 1.50 nautical miles in a Thalweg

fifty fathoms deep. Thus he assumes only two nautical miles for

the current, or sixty inches per second, which must be

considerably increased, and an average depth of ten fathoms,

which again is too little. For 1,800,000 cubic feet of water per

second, which Tuckey made 2,000,000, we may safely read

2,500,000.

Dr. Livingstone himself was haunted by the idea that he was

exploring the Upper Congo, not the Nile. From a Portuguese

subordinate he "learned that the Luapula went to Angola." He asks

with some truth, "Who would care to risk being put into a

cannibal pot, and be converted into blackman for anything less

than the grand old Nile?" And the late Sir Roderick I. Murchison,

whose geographical forecasts were sometimes remarkable, suspected

long ago[FN#23] that his "illustrious friend" would follow the

drainage of the country to the western coast.

The "extraordinary quiet rise of the periodical flood," proved by

the first expedition, argues that the Congo "issues from the

gradual overflowing of a lake or a chain of lakes." The increment

in the lower bed, only eight to twelve feet where the Nile and

the Ganges rise thirty and the Binuwe fifty, would also suggest

that it is provided with many large reservoirs. The Introduction

to Tuckey's "Narrative" (p. xviii.) assumes that the highest

water is in March, but he entered the stream only on July 6, and

the expedition ended in mid-October. The best informants assured

me that from March till June there are heavy freshets. As in the

Ogobe, the flood begins in early September, somewhat preceding

that of the Lualaba, but, unlike the former stream, it attains

its highest in November and December, and it gradually subsides

from the end of June till August, about which time the water is

lowest.

In the middle region of the Tanganyika, I found the rainy season

lasting from September to May. At Lake Liemba, the south-eastern

projection of the Tanganyika, Dr. Livingstone in 1867 saw no rain

from May 12 to September, and in Many-wema-land, west of the

central Tanganyika, about south latitude 5°, the wet season began

in November, and continued till July with intervals, marking the

passage of the belt of calms. But, for the Congo to rise in

September, we must assume the rains to have fallen in early

August, allowing ten or fifteen days for the streams to descend,

and the rest for the saturation of the land. This postulates a

supply from the Central African regions far north of the equator.

Even for the March-June freshets, we must also undoubtedly go

north of the Line, yet Herr H. Kiepert[FN#24] places the

northernmost influent of Congo some 150 miles south of the

equator. Under these limitations I agree with Dr. Behm:--"Taking

everything into consideration, in the present state of our

knowledge, there is the strongest probability that the Lualaba is

the head stream of the Congo, and the absolute certainty that it

has no connection with the Nile or any other river (system) of

the northern hemisphere." And again: "As surely as the sun stands

over the southern hemisphere in our winter and the northern in

our summer, bringing the rains and the swellings of the tropical

rivers when it is in the zenith with regard to them, so surely

can it be predicated, from a comparison of the rainy seasons and

times of rising, that the Lualaba belongs to no river of the

northern hemisphere; in the southern hemisphere Africa possesses

only one river, the Congo, which could take up the vast water

supply of the Lualaba." The Brazil shows the curious feature of

widely different and even opposite rainy seasons in the same

parallel of latitude; but this is not the place to discuss the

subject.

Since these lines were written, I have to lament the collapse of

the Livingstone-Congo Expedition. In 1872 the great explorer's

friends, taking into consideration the prospect of his turning

westward, organized a "relief" from West as well as from East

Africa. Mr. J. Young, of Kelly, generously supplied the sinews of

travel, and Mr. Clements R. Markham, Secretary of the Royal

Geographical Society, lent important aid in preparing the

exploration. Navigating-Lieutenant W. J. Grandy, who had seen

service on the eastern coast of Africa, landed at S. Paulo de

Loanda in early 1873, and set out from Ambriz in March of that

year. The usual difficulties were met and overcome, when

Lieutenant Grandy was summarily recalled. The official

explanation ("Royal Geographical Society," December 14th, 1874),

is that the measure was in consequence of Livingstone's death.

The traveller himself says:--"Complying with instructions, we,

with many regrets at the idea of leaving our work unfinished when

all seemed so full of promise, commenced preparations for the

return, leaving good presents with the chiefs, in order to

procure a good reception for those who might come after us." An

Ex-President of the Royal Geographical Society had asserted, "The

ascent of the (Upper) Congo ought to be more productive of useful

geographical results than any other branch of African

exploration, as it will bring to the test of experiment the

navigability of the Congo above the Falls, and thus possibly open

out a means of introducing traffic by steam into the heart of the

continent at least two thousand miles from the mouth of the

river."

With this explicit and stimulating assertion before us, we must

lament that England, once the worthy rival in exploration of

Spain, Portugal, and the Netherlands, is now too poor to support

a single exploration on the West African Coast, when Germany is

wealthy enough liberally to subsidize two.

Note.

A nous deux, Dr. E. Behm!

My objections to your paper are the three following: 1. It

generally understates the volume of the Nzadi, by not allowing

sufficiently for the double equinoctial periods of high water,

March to June, as well as September to December; and by ignoring

the north-equatorial supply. 2. It arbitrarily determines the

question of the Tanganyika, separating it from the Nile-system

upon the insufficient strength of a gorilla, and of an oil-palm

which is specifically different from that of the Western Coast;

and 3. It wilfully misrepresents Dr. Livingstone in the matter of

the so-called Victoria Nyanza.

My first objection has been amply discussed. I therefore proceed

to consider the second. As Mr. Alexander G. Findlay observed

("Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society," No. 3, vol.

xvii. of July 28, 1873):--"Up to the time of Stanley's arrival at

Ujiji, and his journey to the north of the lake, Livingstone was

fully impressed with the conviction that the Tanganyika is

nothing more than what he called a ‘lacustrine river' (329 miles

long by twenty of average breadth); flowing steadily to the north

and forming a portion of the Great Nile Basin. The letters

contained his reasons for forming that opinion, stating that he

had been for weeks and months on the shores of the lake watching

the flow of the water northwards" (at the rate of a knot per

hour). At times the current appeared to run southwards, but that

was under the influence of strong northerly winds. Also by Dr.

Livingstone's letters to Sir Thomas Maclear and Dr. Mann ("

Proceedings of the Royal Geographical Society,"No. i of 1873, pp.

69-70), it is evident that the explorer believed only in the lake

outlet north of Ujiji. Again, Mr. Findlay, after attentively

considering the unsatisfactory visit of Dr. Livingstone and Mr.

Stanley to the Rusizi River in November and December, 1871, holds

it to be a mere marsh-drain, which when the south winds prevail,

would possibly flow in the opposite direction; and he still

believes that Captain Speke and I, when at Uvira, were within

five or six miles of the head.

Since Dr. Livingstone's visit we have heard more upon this

disputed subject. A native of Karagwah assured my friend Sir

Samuel Baker--who, despite all prepossessions, candidly accepted

the statement--that it is possible and feasible to canoe from

Chibero,on the so-called Albert Nyanza, past Uvira, where the

stream narrows and where a pilot is required, to the Arab dépôt,

Ujiji. He described the northern portion of the Tanganyika as

varying much in breadth, immensely wide beyond Vacovia, and again

contracting at Uvira. His report was confirmed by a Msawahíli,

sent by King Mtesa, with whom he had lived many years, to

communicate with Baker Pasha at Fatiko; this man knew both Uvira

and Ujiji, which he called "Uyiyi." Nothing can be more

substantial than this double testimony, which wears all the

semblance of truth.

On the other hand, Lieut. Cameron, whose admirable work has, so

to speak, re-constructed the Tanganyika Lake, discovered, on the

3rd of May, 18-74, the Lukuga River, which he supposes to form

the outlet. It lies 25 direct miles to the south of the Kasenge

Archipelago, numbering seventeen isles, visited by Captain Speke

in March, 1857. Dr. Livingstone touched here on July 13, 1869,

and heard nothing of the outlet; he describes a current sweeping

round Kasenge to south-east or southwards according to the wind,

and carrying trees at the rate of a knot an hour. But Mr. Stanley

(pp. 400 et passim) agrees with Dr. Krapf, who made a large river

issue from "the lake" westwards, and who proposed, by following

its course, to reach the Atlantic. The "discoverer of

Livingstone" evidently inclines to believe that the Tanganyika

drains through the caverns of Kabogo near Uguhha, and he records

the information of native travellers that "Kabogo is a great

mountain on the other side of the Tanganyika, full of deep holes,

into which the water rolls; "moreover, that at the distance of

over a hundred miles he himself heard the" sound of the

thundering surf which is said to roll into the caves of

Kabogo."In his map he ‘cutely avoids inserting anything beyond

"Kabogo Mountains, 6,000 to 7,000 feet high."

The gallant young naval lieutenant's exploration of the Lukuga

has not yet reached us in a satisfactory form. He found the

current sluggishly flowing at the rate of 1.2 knots per hour; he

followed it for four or five miles, and he was stopped by

floating grass and enormous rushes (papyri?). A friendly chief

told him that the Lukuga feeds the Lualaba which, beyond Nyangwe

(Livingstone's furthest point, in about south latitude 4°) takes

the name of Ugarowwa. An Arab had descended this stream fifty-

five marches, and reached a place where there were ships and

white merchants who traded largely in palm-oil and ivory, both

rare on the Congo River. And, unfortunately, "the name (River)

Congo was also mentioned," a term utterly unknown except to the

few Portuguese-speaking natives.

At present, therefore, we must reserve judgment, and the only

conclusion to which the unprofessional reader would come is that

the weight of authority is in favour of a double issue for the

Tanganyika, north and west.

The wilful misrepresentation is couched in these words: "The

reports obtained by Livingstone are if anything favourable to the

unity of the Victoria Nyanza (Ukerewe, Ukara,) because along with

it he names only such lakes as were already known to have a

separate existence from it." As several were recognized, ergo it

is one! Dr. Livingstone heard from independent sources that the

so-called Victoria Nyanza is a lake region, not a lake; his

account of the Okara (Ukara), and the three or four waters run

into a single huge sheet, is substantially the same as that

which, after a study of the Rev. Mr. Wakefield's Reports I

offered to the Royal Geographical Society, and which I

subsequently published in "Zanzibar City, Island, and Coast."

You, Dr. Behm, are apparently satisfied with a lake drained by an

inverted delta of half-a-dozen issues--I am not. Nor can I agree

with you that "whether the Victoria Nyanza is one lake or several

is a point of detail of less importance," when it has disfigured

the best maps of Africa for nearly a score of years. The last

intelligence concerning the "unity" of the lake is from Colonel

C. C. Long, a staff-officer in the service of His Highness the

Khedive, who was sent by Colonel Gordon on a friendly mission to

King Mtesa of Uganda. With permission to descend "Murchison

Creek," and to view "Lake Victoria Nyanza," Colonel Long, after a

march of three hours, took boat. He sounded the waters of the

lake, and found a depth of from 25 to 35 feet; in clear weather

the opposite shore was visible, appearing "to an unnautical eye"

from 12 to 15 miles distant; nor could this estimate be greatly

wrong. After much negotiation and opposition he obtained leave to

return to Egyptian territory by water, and on the way, in north

latitude 1° 30', he discovered a second lake or "large basin," at

least 20 to 25 miles wide. The geography is somewhat hazy, but

the assertions are not to be mistaken.

Finally, I read with regret such statements as the following,

made by so well-known a geographer as yourself: "Speke's views

have been splendidly confirmed; the attacks of his opponents,

especially of Burton, who was most inimically inclined to him,

collapse into nothing." This unwarrantable style of assertion

might be expected from the "Mittheilungen," but it is not

honourable to a man of science. There are, you well know, three

main points of difference between the late Captain Speke and

myself. The first is the horse-shoe of mountains blocking up the

northern end of the Tanganyika; this, after a dozen years, I

succeeded in abolishing. The second is the existence of the

Victoria Nyanza, which I assert to be a lake region, not a lake;

it is far from being a "point of detail," and I hope presently to

see it follow the way of the horse-shoe. Thirdly is the drainage

of the Tanganyika, which Captain Speke threw southward to the

Zambeze, a theory now universally abandoned. This may be your

view of "splendid confirmation"--I venture to think that it will

not be accepted by the geographical world.

Chapter XI.

Life at Banza Nokki.

I was now duly established with my books and instruments at

Nkaye, and the inevitable delay was employed in studying the

country and the people, and in making a botanical collection. But

the season was wholly unpropitious. A naval officer, who was

considered an authority upon the Coast, had advised me to travel

in September, when a journey should never begin later than May.

The vegetation was feeling the effect of the Cacimbo; most of the

perennials were in seed, and the annuals were nearly dried up.

The pictorial effects were those of

"Autumn laying here and there

A fiery finger on the leaves."

Yet, with Factotum Selim's assistance, I managed to collect some

490 specimens within the fortnight. We had not the good fortune

of the late Dr. Welwitsch (Welwitschia mirabilis), but there is

still a copious treasure left for those who visit the Congo River

in the right season.

I was delighted with the country, a counterpart of the Usumbara

Hills in Eastern Africa, disposed upon nearly the same parallel.

The Cacimbo season corresponded with the Harmattan north of the

Line; still, grey mornings, and covered, rainless noons, so

distasteful to the Expedition, which complained that, from four

to five days together, it could not obtain an altitude. The

curious contrast in a region of evergreens was not wanting, the

varied tintage of winter on one tree, and upon another the

brightest hues of budding spring. The fair land of grass and

flowers "rough but beautiful," of shrubbery-path, and dense

mottes or copse islets, with clear fountains bubbling from the

rocks, adorned by noble glimpses of the lake-like river, and of a

blue horizon, which suggested the ocean--ever one of the most

attractive points in an African landscape,--was easily invested

by the eye of fancy with gold and emerald and steely azure from

above, whilst the blue masses of bare mountain, thrown against a

cloudless sky, towered over the black-green sea of vegetation at

their base, like icebergs rising from the bosom of the Atlantic.

As in the Brazilian Rio de São Francisco, the few miles between

the mouth and the hill-region cause a radical change of climate.

Here the suns are never too hot, nor are the moons too cold; the

nights fall soft and misty, the mornings bring the blessing of

freshness; and I was never weary of enjoying the effects of dying

and reviving day. The most delicate sharpness and purity of

outline took the place of meridian reek and blur; trees, rocks,

and chalets were picked out with an utter disregard to the

perspective of distance, and the lowest sounds were distinctly

heard in the hard, clear atmosphere. The damp and fetid

vegetation of the Coast wholly disappeared. By the benefit of

purest air and water, with long walks and abundant palm wine from

the trees hung with calabashes, the traces of "Nanny Po" soon

vanished; appetite and sleep returned, nightly cramps were things

unknown, and a healthy glow overspread the clammy, corpse-like

skin. When the Lower Congo shall become the emporium of lawful

trade, the white face will find a sanatorium in these portals of

the Sierra del Crystal,--the vine will flourish, the soil will

produce the cereals as well as the fruits and vegetables of

Europe, and this region will become one of the "Paradises of

Africa."

The banzas of Congo-land show the constitution of native society,

which, as in Syria, and indeed in most barbarous and semi-

barbarous places, is drawn together less by reciprocal wants than

by the ties of blood. Here families cannot disperse, and thus

each hamlet is a single house, with its patriarch for president

and judge. When the population outgrows certain limits, instead

of being confounded with its neighbours, it adds a settlement

upon neighbouring ground, and removal is the work of a single

day. The towns are merely big villages, whose streets are

labyrinths of narrow pathways, often grass-grown, because each

man builds in his own way. Some translate the word "Banza" by

city, unaware that Central African people do not build cities.

Professor Smith rightly explains it "a village, which with them

means a paterfamilias, and his private dependants." So the

maligned Douville (i. 159)--"On donne le nom de banza à la ville

ou réside le chef d'une peuplade ou nation nègre. On l'attribue

aussi à l'enceinte que le chef ou souverain habite avec les

femmes et sa cour. Dans ce dernier sens le mot banza veut dire

palais du chef."

Our situation is charming, high enough to be wholesome, yet in a

sheltered valley, an amphitheatre opening to the south-east or

rainy quarter; the glorious trees, here scattered, there gathered

in clumps and impenetrable bosquets, show the exuberant fertility

of the soil. Behind and above the village rises a dwarf plateau,

rich with plantains and manioc. After the deserted state of the

river banks,--the effect of kidnapping,--we are surprised to find

so populous a region. Within cannon-shot, there are not less than

twelve villages, with a total, perhaps, of 2,400 souls.

Banza Nkaye, as usual uninclosed, contains some forty

habitations, which may lodge two hundred head. The tenements are

built upon platforms cut out of the hill slopes; and the make

proves that, even during the rains, there is little to complain

of climate. Ten of these huts belong to royalty, which lives upon

the lowest plane; and each wife has her own abode, whilst the

"senzallas" of the slaves cluster outside. The foundation is

slightly raised, to prevent flooding. The superstructure strikes

most travellers as having somewhat the look of a châlet, although

Proyart compares it with a large basket turned upside down. Two

strong uprights, firmly planted, support on their forked ends a

long strut-beam, tightly secured; the eaves are broad to throw

off the rain, and the neat thatch of grass, laid with points

upwards in regular courses, and kept in site by bamboo strips, is

renewed before the stormy season. The roof and walls are composed

of six screens; they are made upon the ground, often occupying

months, and they can be put together in a few minutes. The

material, which an old traveller says is of "leaves interwoven

not contemptibly with one another," is a grass growing everywhere

on the hills, plaited and attached to strips of cane or bamboo-

palm (Raphia vinifera); the gable "walls" are often a cheque-

pattern, produced by twining "tie-tie," "monkey rope," or

creepers, stained black, round the dull-yellow groundwork; and

one end is pierced for a doorway, that must not front the winds

and rains. It is a small square hole, keeping the interior dark

and cool; and the defence is a screen of cane-work, fastened with

a rude wooden latch. The flooring is hard, tamped clay, in the

centre of which the fire is laid; the cooking, however, is

confined to the broad eaves, or to the compound which, surrounded

with neat walls, backs the house. The interior is divided into

the usual "but" and "ben." The latter communicates with the

former by a passage, masked with a reed screen; it is the

sleeping-place and the store-room; and there is generally a

second wicket for timely escape. The only furniture consists of

mats, calabashes, and a standing bedstead of rude construction,

or a bamboo cot like those built at Lagos,--in fact, the four

bare walls suggest penury. But in the "small countries," as the

"landward towns" are called, where the raid and the foray are not

feared, the householder entrusts to some faithful slave large

stores of cloth and rum, of arms and gunpowder.

The abodes suggest those of our semi-barbarous ancestors, as

described by Holingshed, where earth mixed with lime formed the

floor; where the fire was laid to the wall; where the smoke,

which, besides hardening timber, was "expected to keep the good

man and his family from quake and fever, curled from the door;

and where the bed was a straw pallet, with a log of wood for a

pillow. But the Congoese is better lodged than we were before the

days of Queen Elizabeth; what are luxuries in the north, broad

beds and deep arm-chairs, would here be far less comfortable than

the mats, which serve for all purposes. I soon civilized my hut

with a divan, the Hindostani chabutarah, the Spanish estrada, the

"mud bank" or "bunting" of Sierra Leone, a cool earth-bench

running round the room, which then wanted only a glass window.

But no domestic splendour was required; life in the open air is

the life for the tropics: even in England a greater proportion of

it would do away with much neuralgia and similar complaints. And,

if the establishment be simple, it is also neat and clean: we

never suffered from the cimex and pulex of which Captain Tuckey

complains so bitterly, and the fourmis voyageuses (drivers),

mosquitoes, scorpions, and centipedes were unknown to us.

The people much resemble those of the Gaboon. The figure is well

formed, except the bosom, whose shape prolonged lactation,

probably upon the principle called Malthusian, soon destroys;

hence the first child is said to "make the breasts fall." The

face is somewhat broad and flat, the jowl wide, deep, and strong,

and the cerebellum is highly developed as in the Slav. The eye is

well opened, with thick and curly lashes, but the tunica

conjunctiva is rarely of a pure white; the large teeth are of

good shape and colour. Extensive tattoos appear on breasts,

backs, and shoulders; the wearers are generally slaves, also

known by scantier clothing, by darker skins, and by a wilder

expression of countenance. During their "country nursing," the

children run about wholly nude, except the coating of red wood

applied by the mothers, or the dust gathered from the ground. I

could not hear of the weaning custom mentioned by Merolla, the

father lifting the child by the arm, and holding him for a time

hanging in the air, "falsely believing that by those means he

will become more strong and robust." Whilst the men affect caps,

the women go bare-headed, either shaving the whole scalp, or

leaving a calotte of curly hair on the poll; it resembles the

Shúshah of Western Arabia and East Africa, but it is carried to

the fore like a toucan's crest. Some, by way of coquetterie,

trace upon the scalp a complicated network, showing the finest

and narrowest lines of black wool and pale skin: so the old

traveller tells us "the heads of those who aspire to glory in

apparel resemble a parterre, you see alleys and figures traced on

them with a great deal of ingenuity." The bosom, elaborately

bound downwards, is covered with a square bit of stuff, or a

calico pagne--most ungraceful of raiment-wrapped under the arms,

and extending to the knees:

"In longitude'tis sorely scanty,

But ‘tis their best, and they are vaunty."

The poor and the slaves content themselves with grass cloth. The

ornaments are brass earrings, beads and imitation coral; heavy

bangles and manillas of brass and copper, zinc and iron, loading

the ankles, and giving a dainty elephantine gait; the weight also

produces stout mollets, which are set off by bead-garters below

the knees. The leg, as amongst hill people generally, is finely

developed, especially amongst the lower orders: the "lady's"

being often lank and spindled, as in Paris and Naples, where the

carriage shrinks the muscles as bandages cramp Chinese feet.

In these hamlets women are far more numerous than men. Marriage

being expensive amongst the "Mfumo" or gentry, the houses are

stocked with Hagars, and the children inherit their father's rank

as Mwana Mfumos, opposed to Mwanangambe, labouring people, or

Wantu, slaves.

The missionaries found a regular system of "hand-fasting." Their

neophytes did not approve of marriage in facie ecclesiæ, "for

they must first be satisfied whether their wife will have

children; whether she will be diligent in her daily labour, and,

lastly, whether she will prove obedient, before they will marry

her. If they find her faulty in any of these points, they

immediately send her back again to her parents." The woman, not

being looked upon the worse for being returned into stores, soon

afterwards underwent another trial, perhaps with success.

Converts were fined nine crowns for such irregularities. "But,

oh!" exclaims a good father, "what pains do we take to bring them

to marry the lover, and how many ridiculous arguments and reasons

do they bring to excuse themselves from this duty and restraint."

He tells us how he refused absolution to a dying woman, unless

she compelled her daughter to marry a man with whom she was

"living upon trial." The mother answered wisely enough, "Father,

I will never give my daughter cause to curse me after I am dead,

by obliging her to wedlock where she does not fancy." Whereupon

the priest replied, "What! do you not stand more in awe of a

temporal than an eternal curse?" and, working upon the feelings

of the girl, who began to tremble and to weep, extorted from her

a promise to accept the "feigned husband." He adds,

"Notwithstanding this, some obstinate mothers have rather chosen

to die unconfessed, than to concern themselves with the marriage

of their daughters." Being obliged to attend Communion at Easter,

these temporary couples would part on the first day of Lent;

obtain absolution and, a week afterwards, either cohabit once

more or find otherpartners. The "indiscreet method of courtship,"

popularly known as "bundling," here existed, and was found by

Caillié amongst the southern Moors: "When everybody is at rest,

the man creeps into his intended's tent, and remains with her

till daybreak."

An energetic attempt was made to abolish polygamy, which, instead

of diminishing population as some sciolists pretend, caused the

country to swarm like maritime China. Father Carli, who also

dilates upon the evil practice of the sexes living together on

trial, ca. didly owns that his main difficulty lay in "bringing

the multitude to keep to one wife, they being wholly averse to

that law." Yet old travellers declare that when the missionaries

succeeded, the people "lived so Christian-like and lovingly

together, that the wife would suffer herself to be cut to pieces

rather than deceive her husband." Merolla, indeed, enlarges on

the constancy of women, whether white or black, when lawfully

married to their mates; and praises them for living together in

all manner of love and amity. "Hence may be learned what a

propensity the women have to chastity in these parts, many of

whom meet together on the first day of Lent, and oblige

themselves, under pain of severe penance, to a strict continence

till Easter." In case of adultery the husband could divorce the

wife; he was generally satisfied by her begging his pardon, and

by taking a slave from the lover. Widowed "countesses," proved

guilty of "immorality," suffered death by fire or sword. On the

other hand, the "princess" had a right to choose her husband;

but, as in Persia, the day of his splendid wedding was the last

of his liberty. He became a prisoner and a slave; he was

surrounded by spies; he was preceded by guards out of doors, and

at the least "écart" his head was chopped off and his paramour

was sold. These ladies amply revenged the servitude of their sex-

-

"Asperius nihil est humili cum surgit in altum."

Rich women were allowed to support quasihusbands until they

became mothers; and the slaves of course lived together without

marriage. Since the days of the Expedition a change for the

better has come over the gentil sesso. The traveller is no longer

in the "dilemma of Frère Jean," and, except at the river-mouth

and at the adjacent villages, there is none of that officious

complaisance which characterizes every hamlet in the Gaboon

country. The men appear peculiarly jealous, and the women fearful

of the white face. Whenever we approached a feminine group, it

would start up and run away; if cooking ground-nuts, the boldest

would place a little heap upon the bottom of an upturned basket,

push it towards us and wave us off. The lowest orders will submit

to a kind of marriage for four fathoms of cloth; exactly double

the tariff paid in Tuckey's time (pp. 171-181); and this ratio

will apply to all other articles of living. Amongst themselves

nubile girls are not remarkably strict; but as matrons they are

rigid. The adulterer is now punished by a heavy fine, and, if he

cannot pay, his death, as on many parts of the Southern Coast, is

lawful to the husband.

The life is regular, and society is simple and patriarchal, as

amongst the Iroquois and Mohawks, or in the Shetlands two

centuries ago. The only excitement, a fight or a slave hunt, is

now become very rare. Yet I can hardly lay down the "curriculum

vitae" as longer than fifty-five years, and there are few signs

of great age. Merolla declares the women to be longer-lived than

the men. Gidi Mavunga, who told me that the Congo Expedition

visited their Banza when his mother was a child, can hardly be

forty-five, as his eldest son shows, and yet he looks sixty. The

people rise at dawn and, stirring up the fire, light the

cachimbos or large clay pipes which are rarely out of their

mouths. Tobacco (nsunza) grows everywhere and, when rudely cured,

it is sold in ringlets or twisted leaves; it is never snuffed,

and the only chaw is the Mákázo or Kola nut which grows all over

these hills; of these I bought 200 for 100 coloured porcelain

beads, probably paying treble the usual price. No food is eaten

at dawn, a bad practice, which has extended to the Brazil and the

Argentine Republic; but if a dram be procurable it is taken "por

la manana." The slave-women, often escorted by one of the wives,

and accompanied by the small girls, who must learn to work whilst

their brothers are idling with their rattles, set out with water-

pots balanced on their Astrachan wool, or with baskets for grain

and firewood slung by a head-strap to the back The free-born

remain at home, bathing and anointing with palm-oil, which

renders the skin smooth and supple, but leaves a peculiar aroma;

they are mostly cross enough till they have thoroughly shaken off

sleep, and the morning generally begins with scolding the slaves

or a family wrangle. I have seen something of the kind in Europe.

Visiting, chatting, and strolling from place to place, lead to

the substantial breakfast or first dinner between 9 and 10 A.M.

Meat rarely appears; river fish, fresh or sun-dried, is the usual

"kitchen," eaten with manioc, toasted maize, and peeled, roasted,

and scraped plantain: vegetables and palm-oil obtained by

squeezing the nut in the hands, are the staple dish, and beans

are looked upon rather as slaves' food. They have no rice and no

form of "daily bread:" I happened to take with me a few boxes of

"twice-baked," and this Mbolo was the object of every chiefs

ambition. "Coleworts" are noticed by Merolla as a missionary

importation; he tells us that they produce no seed; and are

propagated by planting the sprouts, which grow to a great height.

The greens, cabbages, spinach, and French beans, mentioned by

Tuckey, have been allowed to die out. Tea, coffee, sugar, and all

such exotics, are unappreciated, if not unknown; chillies, which

grow wild, enter into every dish, and the salt of native

manufacture, brown and earthy, is bought in little baskets.

Between breakfast and midday there is a mighty drink. The palm-

wine, here called "Msámbá," and on the lower river "Manjewa," is

not brought in at dawn, or it would be better. The endogen in

general use is the elai's, which is considered to supply a better

and more delicate liquor than the raphia. The people do not fell

the tree like the Kru-men, but prefer the hoop of "supple-jack"

affected by the natives of Fernando Po and Camarones. A leaf

folded funnel-wise, and inserted as usual in the lowest part of

the frond before the fruit forms, conveys the juice into the

calabashes, often three, which hang below the crown; and the

daily produce may be ten quarts. On the first day of tapping, the

sap is too sweet; it is best during the following week and, when

it becomes tart, no more must be drawn or the tree will be

injured. It cannot be kept; acetous fermentation sets in at once,

and presently it coagulates and corrupts. At Banana and Boma it

is particularly good; at Porto da Lenha it is half water, but the

agents dare not complain, for the reason which prevents them

offering "spliced grog" to the prepotent negro. Europeans enjoy

the taste, but dislike the smell of palm-wine; those in whom it

causes flatulence should avoid it, but where it agrees it is a

pleasant stimulant, pectoral, refreshing, and clearing the primæ

vice. Mixed with wine or spirits, it becomes highly intoxicating.

The rude beers, called by Merolla Guallo and by Tuckey (p. 120)

Baamboo, the Oualo of Douville, and the Pombeof East Africa,

mentioned by almost every traveller, are not now found on the

lower river.

About noon the slaves return from handling their trowel-shaped

iron hoes, and the "gentleman" takes a siesta proportioned to his

drink. The poorer classes sit at home weaving, spinning, or

threading beads, whilst the wives attend to household work,

prepare the meals, buy and sell, dig and delve. Europeans often

pity the sex thus "doomed to perform the most laborious

drudgery;" but it is a waste of sentiment. The women are more

accustomed to labour in all senses of the word, and the result is

that they equal their mates in strength and stature; they enjoy

robust health, and their children, born without difficulty, are

sturdy and vigorous. The same was the case amongst the primitive

tribes of Europe; Zamacola (Anthrop. Mem. ii. 38), assures us

that the Basque women were physically powerful as the men, with

whom they engaged in prize-fights.

The master awakes about 3 P.M. and smokes, visits, plays with his

children, and dawdles away his time till the cool sunset, when a

second edition of the first meal is served up. If there be

neither dance nor festival, all then retire to their bens, light

the fire, and sit smoking tobacco or bhang, with frequent

interruptions of palm wine or rum, till joined by their partners.

Douville (ii. 113), says that the Pangué or chanvre, "croît

naturellement dans lepays" I believe the questions to be still

sub judice, whether the intoxicating cannabis be or be not

indigenous to Africa as well as to Asia; and whether smoking was

not known in the Old World, as it certainly was in the New,

before tobacco was introduced. The cannabis Indica was the

original anæsthetic known to the Arabs and to civilized Orientals

many centuries before the West invented ether and chloroform.

Our landlord has two wives, but one is a mother and will not

rejoin him till her child can carry a calabash of water unaided.

To avoid exciting jealousy he lives in a hut apart, surrounded by

seven or eight slaves, almost all of them young girls. This

regular life is varied by a little extra exertion at seed-time

and harvest, by attending the various quitandas or markets of the

country side, and by an occasional trip to "town" (Boma). When

the bush is burning, all sally out with guns, clubs, and dogs, to

bring home "beef." And thus they dwell in the presence of their

brethren, thinking little of to-day, and literally following the

precept, "Take no thought for the morrow." As the old missioners

testify, they have happy memories, their tempers are mild, and

quarrels rarely lead to blows; they are covetous, but not

miserly; they share what they have, and they apply the term

"close-fist" to the European who gives "nuffin for nuffin."

The most superstitious of men, they combine the two extremes of

belief and unbelief; they have the firmest conviction in their

own tenets, whilst those of others flow off their minds like

water from a greased surface. The Catholic missioners laboured

amongst them for nearly two hundred years; some of these

ecclesiastics were ignorant and bigoted as those whom we still

meet on the West African Coast, but not a few were earnest and

energetic, scrupulous and conscientious, able and learned as the

best of our modern day. All did not hurry over their superficial

tasks like the Neapolitan father Jerome da Montesarchio, who

baptized 100,000 souls; and others, who sprinkled children till

their arms were tired. Many lived for years in the country,

learning the language and identifying themselves with their

flocks. Yet the most they ever effected was to make their

acolytes resemble the Assyrians whom Shalmaneser transplanted to

Assyria, who "feared the Lord and served their graven images" (2

Kings, xvii. 33-41). Their only traces are the word "Deus,"

foully perverted like the Chinese "joss;" and an occasional

crucifix which is called cousa de branco--white man's thing.

Tuckey was justified in observing at Nokki that the crucifixes,

left by missioners, were strangely mixed with native fetishes,

and that the people seemed by no means improved by the muddle of

Christian and Pagan idolatry.

The system is at once complicated and unsettled. There is,

apparently, the sensus numinis; the vague deity being known as

Nzambi or Njambi, which the missionaries translated into God, as

Nganna Zambi--Lord Zambi. Merolla uses Zambiabungù, and in the

vocabulary, Zabiambunco, for the "Spirit above" (Zambi-a-npungo):

Battel tells us that the King of Loango was called "Sambee and

Pango, which mean God." The Abbé Proyart terms the Supreme

"Zambi," and applies Zambi-a-n-pongou to a species of malady

brought on by perjury. He also notices the Manichæan idea of

Zambi-a-Nbi, or bad-God, drawing the fine distinction of European

belief in a deity supremely good, who permits evil without

participating in it. But the dualism of moral light and darkness,

noticed by all travellers,[FN#25] is a bonâ fide existence with

Africans, and the missionaries converted the Angolan "Cariapemba"

into the Aryo-Semitic Devil.

Zambi is the Anyambia of the Gaboon country, a vox et præterea

nihil. Dr. Livingstone ("First Expedition," p. 641), finds the

word general amongst the Balonda, or people of Lunda: with the

"Cazembes" the word is "Pambi," or "Liza," and "O Muata Cazembe"

(p. 297) mentions the proverb, "Ao Pambi e ao Mambi (the King)

nada iguala." In the "Vocabulario da lingua Cafrial" we see (p.

469) that "Murungo" means God or thunder. It is the rudimental

idea of the great Zeus, which the Greeks worked out, the God of

Æther, the eternal, omnipotent, and omniscient, "who was, who is,

and who is to come," the Unknown and Unknowable, concerning whom

St. Paul quoted Aristæus on Mars' Hill. But the African brain

naturally confused it with a something gross and material: thus

Nzambi-a-Npungu is especially the lightning god. Cariambemba is,

properly, Kadi Mpemba or Ntangwa, the being that slays mankind:

Merolla describes it as an "abominable idol;" and the word is

also applied to the owl, here as in Dahome the object of

superstition. I could trace no sign of worship paid to the sun

(Tangwa or Muinyi), but there are multitudes of minor gods,

probably deified ghosts, haunting particular places. Thus,

"Simbi" presides over villages and the "Tadi Nzazhi," or

Lightning Rock, near Boma; whilst the Yellala is the abode of an

evil being which must be propitiated by offerings. As usual

amongst Fetish worshippers, the only trace of belief in a future

state is faith in revenants--returning men or ghosts.

Each village has an idol under a little wall-less roof,

apparently an earthern pot of grease and feathers, called

Mavunga. This may be the Ovengwa of the "Camma people," a

"terrible catcher and eater of men, a vampire of the dead;

personal, whilst the Ibamba are indistinct; tall as a tree;

wandering through the woods, ever winking; whereas the Greek

immortals were known by their motionless eyelids. "Ngolo Wanga"

is a man-shaped figure of unpainted wood, kept in the hut. Every

house is stuck inside and outside with idols and fetishes,

interpreters of the Deity, each having its own jurisdiction over

lightning, wind, and rain; some act as scarecrows; others teach

magic, avert evils, preserve health and sight, protect cattle,

and command fish in the sea or river. They are in all manner of

shapes, strings of mucuna and poison-beans; carved images stuck

over with feathers and tassels; padlocks with a cowrie or a

mirror set in them; horns full of mysterious "medicine;" iron-

tipped poles; bones; birds' beaks and talons; skins of snakes and

leopards, and so forth. We shall meet them again upon our

travels.

No man walks abroad without his protecting charms, Nkisi or

Nkizi, the Monda of the Gaboon, slung en baudrier, or hanging

from his shoulder. The portable fetish of our host is named "Báká

chyá Mázínga: Professor Smith (p. 323) makes "Mázengá" to be

"fetishes for the detection of theft." These magicæ vanitates are

prophylactics against every evil to which man's frailty is heir.

The missioners were careful not to let their Congo converts have

anything from their bodies, like hair or nail parings, for fear

lest it be turned to superstitious use; and a beard (the price of

conversion) was refused to the "King of Micocco." Like the idols,

these talismans avert ill luck, bachelorhood, childlessness,

poverty, and ill health; they are equally powerful against the

machinations of foes, natural or supernatural; against wild

beasts, the crocodile, the snake, and the leopard; and against

wounds of lead and steel. They can produce transformation;

destroy enemies; cause rain or drought, fine or foul weather;

raise and humble, enrich and impoverish countries; and, above all

things, they are sovereign to make man brave in battle. Shortly

before we entered Banza Nkaye a propitiation of the tutelary gods

took place: Coxswain Deane had fired an Enfield, and the report

throughout the settlement was that our guns would kill from the

river-bank.

The Nganga of Congo-land, the Mganga of the Wasawahili and the

Uganga of the Gaboon, exactly corresponds with M. Michelet's

Sorcière of the Middle Ages, "physicienne," that is doctor for

the people and poisoner; we cannot, however, apply in Africa the

adage of Louis XIII.'s day, "To one wizard ten thousand witches."

In the "Muata Cazembe" (pp. 57, et passim) we read "O Ganga or O

Surjão;" the magician is there called "Muroi," which, like

"Fite," is also applied to magic. The Abbé Proyart opines of his

professional brother, "he is ignorant as the rest of the people,

but a greater rogue,"--a pregnant saying. Yet here "the man of

two worlds" is not l'homme de révolution, and he suffices for the

small "spiritual wants" of his flock. He has charge of the

"Kizila," the "Chigella" of Merolla and the "Quistilla" of James

Barbot--Anglicè putting things in fetish, which corresponds with

the Tahitian tapu or taboo. The African idea is, that he who

touches the article, for instance, gold on the eastern coast of

Guinea, will inevitably come to grief. When "fetish is taken

off," as by the seller of palm wine who tastes it in presence of

the buyer, the precaution is evidently against poison. Many of

these "Kizila" are self-imposed, for instance a water melon may

never enter Banza Nokki, and, though slaves may eat bananas upon

a journey, the master may not. Others refuse the flesh of a fowl

until it has been tasted by a woman. These rules are delivered to

the young, either by the fetishman or the parents, and, when

broken, they lead to death, doubtless often the consequence of

strong belief. The Nganga superintends, as grand inquisitor, the

witch-ordeal, by causing the accused to chew red-wood and other

drugs in this land ferax venenorum. Park was right: "By

witchcraft is meant pretended magic, affecting the lives and

healths of persons, in other words it is the administering of

poison." European "Narratives of Sorcery and Magic" exactly

explain the African idea, except in one point: there the witch

"only suffered from not being able to prove to Satan how much she

burned to suffer for his sake;" here she has no Satan. Both

European and African are the firmest believers in their own

powers; they often confess, although knowing that the confession

leads directly to torture and death, with all the diabolical

ingenuity of which either race was capable. In Tuckey's time a

bargain was concluded by breaking a leaf or a blade of grass, and

this rite it was "found necessary to perform with the seller of

every fowl:" apparently it is now obsolete. Finally, although the

Fetish man may be wrong, the fetish cannot err. If a contretemps

occur, a reason will surely be found; and, should the "doctor"

die, he has fallen a victim to a rival or an enemy more powerful

than himself.

A striking institution of the Congo region is that of the

Jinkemba, which, curious to say, is unnoticed by Tuckey. It is

not, however, peculiar to the Congo; it is the "Semo" of the

Susus or Soosoos of the Windward Coast, and the "Purrah" of the

Sherbro-Balloms or Bulloms, rendered Anglicè by "free-masonry."

The novitiate there lasts for seven or eight years, and whilst

the boys live in the woods food is placed for them by their

relations: the initiation, indeed, appears to be especially

severe. Here all the free-born males are subjected to the wrongly

called "Mosaic rite." Merolla tells us that the wizards

circumcise children on the eighth day (like the Jews), not out of

regard for the law, but with some wicked end and purpose of their

own. At any time between the ages of five and fifteen (eight to

ten being generally preferred), boys are taken from their parents

(which must be an exceeding comfort to the latter), and for a

native year, which is half of ours, they must dwell in the Vivála

ya Ankimba, or Casa de Feitiço, like that which we passed before

reaching Banza Nokki. They are now instructed by the Nganga in

the practices of their intricate creed; they are taught the

mysteries under solemn oaths, and, in fine, they are prepared for

marriage. Upon the Congo they must eat no cooked food, living

wholly upon roots and edibles; but they are allowed to enter the

villages for provisions, and here they often appear armed with

matchets, bayonets, and wooden swords. Their faces and necks,

bodies and arms, are ghastly white with chalk or ashes; the hair

is left in its original jet, and the dingy lower limbs contrast

violently with the ghostlike absence of colour above. The dress

is a crinoline of palm-fronds, some fresh and green, others sere

and brown; a band of strong mid-rib like a yellow hoop passed

round the waist spreads out the petticoat like a farthingale, and

the ragged ends depend to the knees; sometimes it is worn under

the axillae, but in all cases the chalked arms must be outside.

The favourite attitude is that of the Rhodian Colossus, with the

elbows bent to the fore and the hands clasped behind the head. To

increase their prestige of terror, the Jinkomba abjure the use of

human language, and, meeting a stranger, ejaculate with all their

might, "Hár-rr-rr-rr-rr!" and "Jojolo! Jojolo!" words mystic and

meaningless. When walking in procession, they warn the profane

out of the way by striking one slip of wood upon another. They

are wilder in appearance than the Hindu Jogi or Sanyasi, who also

affects the use of ashes, but neglects that of the palm-thatch.

It is certainly enough to startle a man of impressible nerves--

one, for instance, who cannot enter a room without a side-long

glance at an unexpected coffin--to see these hideous beings

starting with their savage cry from the depths of an African

forest. Evidently, also, such is the intention of the costume.

Contrasting the Congoese with the Goanese, we obtain a measure of

difference between the African and the Asiatic. Both were

Portuguese colonies founded about the same time, and under very

similar circumstances; both were catechized and Christianized in

the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; both had governors and

palaces, bishops and cathedrals, educational establishments and a

large staff of missioners. But Asia was not so inimical, mentally

or bodily, to the European frame as Africa; the Goanese throve

after a fashion, the mixed breed became the staple population,

and thus it continues till this day. On the other hand the

Hamitic element so completely asserted its superiority over

insititious Japheth, that almost every trace has disappeared in a

couple of centuries. There lingers, it is true, amongst the

Congoese of the coast-regions a something derived from the olden

age, still distinguishing them from the wild people of the

interior, and at times they break out naturally in the tongue of

their conquerors. But it requires a practised eye to mark these

minutiae.

The Congoese are passably brave amongst themselves; crafty and

confined in their views, they carry "knowledge of life" as far as

it is required, and their ceremonious intercourse is remarkable

and complicated. They have relapsed into the analphabetic state

of their ancestors; they are great at eloquence; and, though

without our poetical forms, they have a variety of songs upon all

subjects and they improvise panegyrics in honour of chiefs and

guests. Their dances have been copied in Europe. Without ever

inventing the modes of the Greeks, which are still preserved by

the Hindoos, they have an original music, dealing in harmony

rather than in tune, and there are motives, of course all in the

minor key, which might be utilized by advanced peoples; these

sons of nature would especially supply material for that

recitative which Verdi first made something better than a vehicle

for dialogue. Hence the old missioners are divided in opinion;

whilst some find the sound of the "little guitar," with strings

of palm-thread and played with the thumbs of both hands, "very

low, but not ungrateful," others speak of the "hellish harmony"

of their neophytes' bands. The instrument alluded to is the

nsambi or nchambi; four strings are attached to bent sticks

springing from the box; it is the wambi of the Shekyanis (Du

Chaillu, chap. xii), but the bridge, like that of our violin,

gives it an evident superiority, and great care and labour are

required in the maker.

This form of the universal marimba is a sounding-board of light

wood, measuring eight inches by five; some eight to eleven iron

keys, flat strips of thin metal, pass over an upright bamboo

bridge, fixed by thongs to the body, and rest at the further end

upon a piece of skin which prevents "twanging." The tocador or

performer brings out soft and pleasing tones with the sides of

the thumbs and fingers. They have drums and the bell-like cymbals

called chingufu: M. Valdez (ii. 221 et passim), writes

"Clincufo," which he has taken from a misprint in Monteiro and

Gamitto. The chingufu of East Africa is a hollow box performed

upon with a drum-stick of caoutchouc. The pipes are wooden tubes

with sundry holes and a bridge below the mouth-piece; they are

played over edge like our flutes. The "hellish harmonies" mostly

result from an improvised band, one strumming the guitar, another

clapping the sticks, and the third beating the bell-shaped irons

that act as castanets.

The language of the people on and near the Congo River is called

"Fiote," a term used by old travellers to denote a black man as

opposed to Mundele (white), and also applied to things, as

Bondefiote or black baft. James Barbot (p. 512) gives specimens

of some thirty-three words and the numerals in the "Angoy

language, spoken at Cabinde," which proves to be that of the

River. Of these many are erroneous: for instance, "nova," to

sleep (ku-núa); "sursu," a hen (nsusu): while "fina," scarlet;

"bayeta," baize; and "fumu," tobacco, are corrupted Portuguese. A

young lad, "muleche" (moleque), Father Merolla's "molecchas, a

general name among the negroes," for which Douville prefers

"moleke" (masc.) and "molecka" (fem.), is applied only to a

slave, and in this sense it has extended west of the Atlantic. In

the numerals, "wale" (2) should be "kwále," "quina" (4) "kúyá,"

and "evona" (9) "iowá." We may remark the pentenary system of the

Windward Coast and the Gaboon negroes; e.g., 6 is "sambano"

("mose" and "tano" 1 + 5), and 7 is "sambwale" ("mose" and

"kwale") and so forth, whilst "kumi" (10), possibly derived from

neighbouring races, belongs to the decimal system.

The first attempt at a regular vocabulary was made by Douville,

(vol. iii. p. 261): "Vocabidaire de la Langue Mogialoua, et des

deux dialectcs principaux Abunda (Angolan) et Congo" (Fiote); it

is also very incorrect. The best is that published in Appendix

No. I. to the Congo Expedition, under the name of "Embomma;" we

may quote the author's final remark: "This vocabulary I do not

consider to be free from mistakes which I cannot now find time to

discover. All the objects of the senses are, however, correct."

M. Parrot showed me a MS. left at Banana Point by a French

medical officer, but little could be said in its praise. Monteiro

and Gamitto (pp. 479-480) give seventeen "Conguez" words, and the

Congo numerals as opposed to the "Bundo."

The Fiote is a member of the great South African family; some

missionaries argued, from its beauty and richness, that it had

formerly been written, but of this there is no proof. M. Malte-

Brun supposes the Congoese dialects to indicate "a meditative

genius foreign to the habitual condition of these people,"

ignoring the fact that the most complicated and laborious tongues

are those of barbarous nations, whilst modern civilization in

variably labours to simplify. It is copious; every place, tree,

shrub, or plant used by the people has its proper name; it is

harmonious and pleasing, abounding in vowels and liquids,

destitute of gutturals, and sparing in aspirates and other harsh

consonants. At the same time, like the rest of the family, it is

clumsy and unwieldy, whilst immense prolixity and frequent

repetition must develope the finer shades of meaning. Its

peculiarity is a greater resemblance to the Zanzibarian

Kisawahili than any tongue known to me on the Western Coast:

often a question asked by the guide, as "Njia hápá?" (Is this the

road?) and "Jina lako nani?" (What's your name?) was perfectly

intelligible to me.The latter is a fair specimen of the peculiar

euphony which I have noticed in "Zanzibar" (vol. i. chap. x.). We

should expect "Jina jako," whereas this would offend the native

ear. It requires a scholar-like knowledge of the tongue to apply

the curious process correctly, and the self-sufficient critic

should beware how he attempts to correct quotations from the

native languages.

I need hardly say that the speakers are foul-mouthed as the

Anglo-African of S'a Leone and the "English" Coast; they borrow

the vilest words from foreign tongues; a spade is called a spade

with a witness, and feminine relatives are ever the subject of

abuse; a practice which, beginning in Europe with the Slav race,

extends more or less throughout the Old World. I specify the Old

World, because the so-called "Indians" of North and South America

apparently ignore the habit except where they have learned it

from Southern Europe. Finally, cursing takes the place of

swearing, the latter being confined, I believe, to the

Scandinavians, the Teutons, and their allied races.

Nothing can be more unpleasant than the Portuguese spoken by the

Congoman. He transposes the letters lacking the proper sounds in

his own tongue; for instance, "sinholo" (sinyolo) is "senhor;"

"munyele" or "minyele" is "mulher;" "O luo" stands in lieu of "O

rio," (the river); "rua" of "lua" (luna), and so forth. For to-

morrow you must use "cedo" as "manhaa" would not be understood,

and the prolixity of the native language is transferred to the

foreign idiom. For instance, if you ask, "What do you call this

thing?" the paraphrase to be intelligible would be, "The white

man calls this thing so-and-so; what does the Fiote call this

thing?" sixteen words for six. I have elsewhere remarked how

Englishmen make themselves unintelligible by transferring to

Hindostani and other Asiatic tongues the conciseness of their own

idiom, in which as much is understood as is expressed. We can

well understand the outraged feelings with which poor Father

Cannecattim heard his sermons travestied by the Abundo negroes do

Paiz or linguists, the effect of which was to make him compose

his laborious dictionary in Angolan, Latin, and Portuguese. His

wrath in reflecting upon "estos homems ou estos brutos" drives

the ecclesiastic to imitate the ill-conditioned layman who

habitually addresses his slave as "O bruto! O burro! O bicho! O

diabo!" when he does not apply the more injurious native terms as

"Konongwako" and "Vendengwandi." It is only fair to confess that

no race is harsher in its language and manners to its "black

brethren," than the liberated Africans of the English

settlements.

At Banza Nokki I saw the first specimen of a Mundongo slave girl.

The tribe is confounded with the Mandingo (Mandenga) Moslems by

the author of the "Introduction to Tuckey's Journey" (p. Ixxxi.);

by Tuckey (p. 141), who also calls them Mandonzo (p. 135), and by

Prof. Smith (p. 315); but not by the accurate Marsden (p. 389).

She described her tribe as living inland to the east and north-

east of the Congo peoples, distant two moons--a detail, of

course, not to be depended upon. I afterwards met many of these

"captives," who declared that they had been sold after defeats: a

fine, tall race, one is equal to two Congo men, and the boldness

of demeanour in both sexes distinguishes them from other

serviles. Apparently under this name there are several tribes

inhabiting lands of various elevations; some are coloured café au

lait, as if born in a high and healthy region; others are almost

jet black with the hair frightfully "wispy," like a mop.

Generally the head is bullet-shaped, the face round, the features

negroid, not negro, and the hands and feet large but not ill-

shaped. Some again have the Hausa mark, thread-like perpendicular

cuts from the zygomatic arches running parallel with the chin; in

other cases the stigmata are broad beauty-slashes drawn

transversely across the cheeks to the jawbone, and forming with

the vertical axis an angle of 45°. All are exceedingly fond of

meat, and, like the Kru-men, will devour it semi-putrified. The

Congoese declare them to be "papagentes" (cannibals), a term

generally applied by the more advanced to the bushmen living

beyond their frontier, and useful to deter travellers and

runaways. They themselves declare that they eat the slain only

after a battle--the sentimental form of anthropophagy. The slave-

girl produced on this occasion was told to sing; after receiving

some beads, without which she would not open her lips, we were

treated to a "criard" performance which reminded me of the

"heavenly muse" in the Lake Regions of Central Africa.

The neighbours of the Mundonoros are the Mubangos, the Muyanji

(Muyanzi?), and the Mijolo, by some called Mijere. Possibly

Tuckey alludes to the Mijolos when he tells us (p. 141), that the

"Mandingo" slave whom he bought on the Upper River, called his

country "M'intolo." I have seen specimens of the three, who are

so similar in appearance that a stranger distinguishes them only

by the tattoo. No. 1 gashes a line from the root of the hair to

the commissure of the nose: No. 2 has a patch of cuts, five in

length and three in depth, extending from the bend of the eye-

brow across the zygomata to the ear, and No. 3 wears cuts across

the forehead. I was shown a sword belonging to the Mijolo: all

declared that it is of native make; yet it irresistibly suggested

the old two-handed weapon of Europe, preserved by the Bedawin and

the Eastern Arabs, who now mostly derive it from Sollingen. The

long, straight, flexible, and double-edged blade is neatly

mounted by the tang in a handle with a pommel, or terminating

knob, of ivory; others prefer wood. The guard is very peculiar, a

thin bar of iron springing from the junction of blade and grip,

forming an open oval below, and prolonged upwards and downwards

in two branches parallel with the handle, and protecting the

hand. They dance, brandishing this weapon, according to the

slaves, in the presence of their princes.

I inquired vainly about the Anzicos, Anzichi, Anzigui, Anzigi, or

Anziki, whose king, Makoko, the ruler of thirteen kingdoms, was

placed by Dapper north-west of Monemugi (Unyamwezi), and whom

Pigafetta (p. 79) located close to the Congo, and near his

northern Lake. "It is true that there are two lakes, not,

however, lying east and west (Ptolemy's system), but north and

south of each other, and about 400 miles asunder. The first is in

south latitude 12°. The Nile, issuing from it, does not,

according to Odoardo (Duarte Lopez), sink in the earth nor

conceal itself, but, after flowing northwards, it enters the

second lake, which is 220 miles in extent, and is called by the

natives a sea." If the Tanganyika shall be found to connect with

the Luta Nzige or Mwutan Lake, this passage will be found

wonderfully truthful. The Tanganyika's southern versant is now

placed in south latitude 8° 46' 54", or in round numbers 9°, and

the other figures are nearly as correct. James Barbot causes

these Anzikos to wander "almost through all Africa," from Nubia

to the Congo, like negro Bedawin or Scythians; the common food

was man's flesh fattened for the market and eaten by the

relatives, even of those who died diseased. Their "capital,"

Monsol, was built by D'Anville, close to the equator in the very

centre of Africa (east longitude Greenwich, 26° 20') hard by

Douville's "Yanvo;" and the "Opener of Inner Africa in 1852" (pp.

3, 4, 69), with equal correctness, caused them to "occupy the

hills opposite to Sundi, and extending downwards to Emboma below

the Falls."

Mr. Cooley ("Ocean Highways," June, 1873), now explains the word

as A-nzi-co, "people not of the country," barbarians, bushmen.

This kind of information, derived from a superficial knowledge of

an Angolan vocabulary, is peculiarly valueless. I doubt that a

negative can thus be suffixed to a genitive. The name may simply

have been A-nziko (man) of the back-settlement. In 1832, Mr.

Cooley writes: "the nation of the Anziko (or Ngeco):" in 1845,

"the Anziki, north of Congo:" in 1852, "the Micoco or king of the

Anziko"--und so weiter. What can we make of this geographical

Proteus? The first Congo Expedition who covered all the ground

where the Creator of the Great Central Sea places the Anzikos,

never heard of them--nor will the second.

Not being then so well convinced of the nonexistence of the

Giaghi, Giagas, Gagas, or Jagas as a nation, I inquired as vainly

for those terrible cannibals who had gone the way of all the

Anzikos. According to Lopez, Battel, Merolla, and others, they

"consider human flesh as the most delicious food, and goblets of

warm blood as the most exquisite beverage." This act on the part

of savage warriors might have been a show of mere bravado. But I

cannot agree with the editor of Tuckey's "Narrative," "From the

character and disposition of the native African, it may fairly be

doubted whether, throughout the whole of this great continent, a

negro cannibal has any existence." The year 1816 was the Augustan

age of outrageous negrophilism and equally extreme anti-

Napoleonism. "If a French general" (Introduction, p. i),

"brutally seized the person and papers of a British naval

officer, on his return from a voyage of discovery," who, I would

ask, plundered and destroyed the fine botanical collection made

at risk of health and life, during fifteen months of hard labour,

by the learned Palisot de Beauvois, author of the "Flore

d'Oware?" The "Reviewer" of Douville (p. 177) as sensibly

declares that cannibalism "has hitherto continually retired

before the investigation of sober-minded, enlightened men," when,

after a century or two of intercourse with white traders, it

still flourishes on the Bonny and New Calabar Rivers.

We are glad to be rid of the Jagas, a subject which has a small

literature of its own; the savage race appeared everywhere like a

"deus ex machina," and it became to Intertropical Africa what the

"Lost Tribes" were and even now are in some cases, to Asia and

not rarely to Europe. Even the sensible Mr. Wilson ("West

Africa," p. 238) has "no doubt of the Jagas being the same people

with the more modernly discovered Pangwes" (Fans); and this is

duly copied by M. du Chaillu (chap. viii.). M. Valdez (ii. 150)

more sensibly records that the first Jaga established in

Portuguese territory was called Colaxingo (Kolashingo), and that

his descendants were named "Jagas," like the Egyptian Pharaohs,

the Roman Ceesars, the Austrian Kaisers, and the Russian Czars:

he also reminds us (p. 150) that the chief of the Bangalas

inhabiting Cassange (= Kasanjí) was the Jaga or ruler par

excellence.

Early on the morning of September 11, I was aroused by a "bob" in

the open before us. We started up, fearing that some death by

accident had taken place: the occasion proved, on the contrary,

to be one of ushering into life. The women were assembled in a

ring round the mother, and each howled with all the might of her

lungs, either to keep off some evil spirit or to drown the

sufferer's cries. In some parts of Africa, the Gold Coast for

instance, it is considered infamous for a woman thus to betray

her pain, but here we are amongst a softer race.

Chapter XII.

Preparations for the March.

Gidi Mavunga, finding me in his power, began, like a thoroughbred

African, to raise obstacles. We must pass through the lands of

two kings, the Mfumo ma Vivi (Bibbie of Tuckey) and the Mfumu

Nkulu or Nkuru (Cooloo). The distance was short, but it would

occupy five days, meaning a week. Before positively promising an

escort he said it would be necessary to inspect my outfit; I at

once placed it in the old man's hands, the better to say, "This

is not mine, ask Gidi Mavunga for it."

My patience had been severely tried on first arrival at Banza

Nokki. From ruler to slave every one begged for cloth and rum,

till I learned to hate the names of these necessaries. Besides

the five recognized kings of the district, who wore black cloth

coats, all the petty chiefs of the neighbourhood flocked in,

importunate to share the spoils. A tariff, about one-third higher

than at Boma, was set upon every article and, if the most

outrageous price was refused, the seller, assuming an insipid

expression of countenance, declared that great white men

travelled with barrels, not with bottles of aguardente, and that

without liberality it would be impossible to leave the village.

Nsundi, the settlement above the Falls, was a journey of two

moons, and none of the ten "kings" on the way would take less

than Nessudikira's "dash." Congo Grande, as the people call São

Salvador, was only four marches to the E.S.E.; the road, however,

was dangerous, and an escort of at least fifty men would be

necessary.

But when I was "upon the head of Gidi Mavunga" matters changed

for the better. Shortly after he took charge, one Tetu Mayella,

"King" of Neprat, accompanied by some twenty followers, entered

the village with a view to the stranger's rum: by referring them

to the new owner they perforce contented themselves after three

hours' "parliamenting," with a single bottle. The ruler of Nokki

wanted, besides gin and cloth, a pair of shoes for his poor feet,

which looked clad in alligator's skin; I referred him to his

father, and he got little by that motion.

On the evening of September 10, Gidi Mavunga, who had been

visiting his "small country," returned, and declared himself

ready to set out. He placed before me ten heaps, each of as many

ground-nuts, and made me understand that, for visiting Nsundi and

S. Salvador, he would take fifty short "pieces" (of cloth) for

himself and the same number for his slaves; one moiety to be

advanced before the first trip to the Cataracts and the rest to

follow. For half my store of beads he undertook to ration his

men; a work which would have given us endless trouble. As I

agreed to all his conditions he promised to move on the next day-

-without the least intention of carrying out any one of his

conditions.

These people are rich, and not easily tempted to hard work.

During the French émigration, the district of Banza Nokki drove

slaves to the value of 60,000 dollars per annum, and the dollar

is to the African the pound sterling of Europe. It is one of the

hundred out-stations which supplied the main dépôts, Boma and

Porto da Lenha. Small parties went out at certain seasons

provided with rum, gunpowder, and a little cloth; and either

bought the "chattels" or paid earnest money, promising to settle

the whole debt at their villages. Gidi Mavunga, like most of the

elders, was perfectly acquainted with the routes to Nsundi, S.

Salvador, and other frontier places, where the bush people

brought down their criminals and captives for barter. Beyond

those points his information was all from hearsay.

Besides the large stores in their "small countries," the middle-

men have a multitude of retainers, who may at any moment be

converted into capital. Yet "slave" is a term hardly applicable

to such "chattels," who, as a rule, are free as their lords. They

hold at their disposal all that the master possesses, except his

wives; they sleep when they choose, they work when they like;

they attend to their private affairs, and, if blamed or punished,

they either run away, as at Zanzibar, to their own country, or

they take sanctuary with some neighbouring Mfumo, who, despite

the inevitable feud, is bound by custom to protect them. Cold and

hunger, the torments of the poor in Europe, are absolutely

unknown to them, and their condition contrasts most favourably

with the "vassus" and the "servus" of our feudal times. Their

wives and children are their own: the master cannot claim the

tyrannous marriage-rights of the baron; no "wedding-dish" is

carried up to the castle; nor is the eldest born "accounted the

son of the serf's lord, for he perchance it was who begat him."

The brutality of slavery, I must repeat, is mainly the effect of

civilization. "I shall never forget," says Captain Boteler, "the

impatient tosses of the head and angry looks displayed by a--

lady--when the subject was canvassed. ‘A negro, a paltry negro,

ever understand or conform to the social tie of wedlock! No,

never! never!' Yet this lady was an English-woman." And when

James Barbot's supercargo begins to examine his negroes like

cattle he is begged, for decency's sake, to do it in a private

place, "which shows these blacks are very modest." It rather

proved the whites to be the reverse.

At 7.20 A.M. on September 11, the "moleques" seized our luggage,

and we suddenly found ourselves on the path. Gidi Mavunga,

wearing pagne and fetish-bag, and handling a thin stick in which

two bulges had been cut, led us out of Banza Nokki, and took a

S.S.W. direction. The uneven ground was covered with a bitter

tomato (nenga) and with the shrub which, according to Herodotus,

bears wool instead of fruit. I sent home specimens of this

gossypium arboreum, which everywhere grows wild and which is

chiefly used for wicks. There is scant hope of cotton-culture

amongst a people whose industry barely suffices for ground-nuts.

The stiff clay soil everywhere showed traces of iron, and the

guide pointed out a palm-tree which had been split by the

electric fluid, and a broad, deep furrow, several feet long,

ending in a hole. The Nzazhi (lightning) is as dangerous and as

much dreaded on these hills as in Uganda: the south-west trade

meets the land wind from the north-east; strata of clouds in

different states of electricity combine, says the popular theory,

to produce the thunder and lightning which accompany rain like

the storms upon the mountains of Yemen. After 30' (- 1.50 miles)

we reached our destination, Banza Chinguvu, the head-quarters of

Gidi Mavunga. As we entered it he pointed to a pot full of greasy

stuff under a dwarf shed, saying, "Isso è meu Deus:" it was in

fact his Baka chya Mazinga. Beyond it stood the temple of Nbambi;

two suspended pieces of wood, cut in the shape of horns, bore

monkey skins on both sides of a dead armadillo, an animal

supposed to attract lightning when alive, and to repel it after

death.

The Banza was beautifully situated on a dwarf platform, catching

the full force of the sea-breeze, and commanding to the north-

west a picturesque glimpse of the

"waters rippling, flowing,

Flashing along the valley to the sea;"

a mountain tarn representing the mighty stream. On the right lay

fields, dotted with papaw-trees, and plantations of maize and

manioc, thur (Cajanus), and sweet potatoes, a vegetable now

common, but not noticed by Tuckey; on the left, a deep ravine,

densely forested with noble growth, and supplying the best of

water, divides it from Tadi ja Mfimo, a pile of rock on the

opposite hill-side; here lay the Itombo village, belonging to

Gidi Mavunga's eldest son. Beyond it, the tree-clad heights,

rolling away into the distance, faded from blue-brown to the

faintest azure, hardly to be distinguished from the empyrean

above. The climate of these breezy uplands is superior even to

that of Banza Nokki, which lies some 170 feet lower; and the

nights are sensibly cooler.

A few fathoms of altitude here make a surprising difference. The

little valleys with their chalet-like huts reminded me of the

Maroro and Kisanga basins, in the sister formation, the East

African Ghats, but now we have a hill-climate without ague and

fever. Our parallel is that of Yorukan Abokuta, where the people

are anti-oeci, both being about 6° distant from the Line,-- those

north, these south. There the bush is fetid, and the clammy air

gives a sense of deadly depression; here the atmosphere is pure,

the land is open, and there is enjoyment in the mere sense of

life. The effete matter in the blood and the fatty degeneration

of the muscles, the results of inactivity, imperfect respiration,

and F. Po, were soon consumed by the pure oxygen of the highland

air. I can attribute this superiority of the Congo region only to

the labours of an old civilization now obsolete; none but a thick

and energetic population could have cleared off the forest, which

at one time must have covered their mountains.

The Banza consists of about fifty cottages, which are being new-

thatched before the rains, and the population may number 300. Our

host assigned to us one of his own huts; it fronted west, and was

a facsimile of that which we had just left. The old fox,

determined not to be "taken alive," has provided his earth with

three holes, opening to the north, to the east, and to the west.

We often detected him in the "ben," the matrimonial sanctum,

listening to private conversations which he could not understand.

Gidi Mavunga is decidedly a "serious person." The three walls

round the standing bedstead are hung with charms and amulets,

like the sacred pictures in country parts of Europe; and at the

head is his "Mavunga," of which Tuckey says (p. 180), "Each

village has a grand kissey (nkisi), or presiding divinity, named

Mevonga:" it is an anthropoid log, about three feet high, red,

white, and black, the former colour predominating. Two bits of

looking-glass represent the eyes, the nose is patulous, as though

offended by evil savour; the upper lip is drawn up in disdain,

the under overlaps the chin; and a little mirror is inserted into

the umbilical region. Mavunga's dress is represented by an

English billy-cock hat; while all kinds of "medicines,"

calabashes, and a coarse knife depend from his neck to his

shoulders. The figures at the door are generally called

"Ngolowándá."

It is said, I believe, of the Englishwoman-

"If she will, she will, you may depend on't;

If she won't, she won't, and there's an end on't."

I may safely predicate the same of the negro, who owns, like the

goose, a "singularly inflexible organization." Whenever he can,

he will, and he must, have his head. Gidi Mavunga would not even

break his fast before touching the cloth and beads, which are to

pay for guidance and carriage. The hut-door was closed, and in

half an hour all was settled to every one's satisfaction. Yet the

veteran did not disdain a little rascality. Awaiting his

opportunity, he tossed into a dark corner a little bundle of two

fancy cloths which I had given the "linguistero" and, when

detected, he shamelessly declared that such people have no right

to trade.

Finally, our departure was settled for the next morning, and the

women at once began their preparations. Although they have sperm-

candles, torches are preferred for the road; odoriferous gums are

made up, as in the Gaboon, with rags or splints of bark; hence

the old writers say, "instead of putting wicks into the torches,

they put torches into the wicks." The travelling foods are mostly

boiled batatas (sweet potatoes), Kwanga, a hard and innutritious

pudding-like preparation of cassava which the "Expedition" (p.

197) calls "Coongo, a bitter root, that requires four days'

boiling to deprive it of its pernicious quality;" this is

probably the black or poisonous manioc. The national dish,

"chindungwa," would test the mouth of any curry-eater in the

world: it is composed of boiled ground-nuts and red peppers in

equal proportions, pounded separately in wooden mortars, mixed

and squeezed to drain off the oil; the hard mass, flavoured with

salt or honey, will keep for weeks. The bees are not hived in

Congo-land, but smoked out of hollow trees: as in F. Po and

Camarones Peaks, they rarely sting, like the harmless Angelito of

the Caraccas, "silla," or saddleback; which Humboldt ("Personal

Narrative," chap. xiii.) describes as a "little hairy bee, a

little smaller than the honey-bee of the north of Europe."

Captain Hall found the same near Tampico; and a hive-full was

sent to the blind but ingenious Francis Huber of Geneva, who died

in 1831. This seems to be the case with the busy hymenopter

generally in the highlands of Africa; the lowland swarms have

been the terror of travellers from Mungo Park's day to that of

the first East African Expedition.

About noon we were visited by the confidential slaves of a

neighbouring chief, who prospectively welcomed us to his

territory. These men were gaudily attired in cast-off clothes,

and in the crimson night-caps formerly affected by the English

labourer: on the mountains, where the helmet is confined to

royalty, it is the head-dress used for state occasions. They sat

in the hut, chatting, laughing, and discussing palm wine by the

gallon, till they had their wicked will in the shape of a bottle

of gin; after this, they departed with many low congés.

It was a study to see Gidi Mavunga amidst the vassals and serfs

of his own village. He had no moated castle, no "Quinquengrogne;"

but his habitation was grander far,--that glorious hill-side,

with all its prospects of mountain and river, field and forest,

valley and village. As he sat upon the mat under his little

piazza, all the dependants gathered in an outer semicircle, the

children, dogs, and cats forming an inner chord. A crowd of

"moleques" placed before him three black pots, one containing a

savoury stew, the others beans and vegetables, which he

transferred to a deep platter, and proved himself no mean

trencherman. The earthenware is of native make, by no means

ornamental, but useful because it retains the heat; it resembles

the produce of the Gold Coast, and the "pepper-pot" platter of

the West Indies. His cup was filled as fast as he drained the

palm wine, and, at times, he passed a huge mouthful to a small

son or daughter, smiling at the serious and awkward attempts at

deglutition. The washing of hands and mouth before and after

feeding shows progress after Tuckey's day (p. 360). We were not

asked to join him: an African, when upon a journey, will beg for

everything he sees you eat or drink, but there is no return in

kind. I have read of negro hospitality, but it has never been my

fate to witness an approach to that virtue. The chief will, it is

true, quarrel with you if his house be passed without a visit;

but his object in taking you in is to make all he can of you. If

a purse be pulled out, he waxes wroth, because he wishes to

secure at once the reputation of generosity and the profits of a

present doubling the worth of a regular "addition." When Gidi

Mavunga rose from his meal, the elder dependants took his place;

the junior bipeds followed, and the remnants were thrown to the

quadrupeds. It was a fair copy in black of a baronial and

mediæval life.

The dogs were not neglected during the meal; but over-eagerness

was repressed by a stout truncheon lying handily near the old

negro Jarl. The animals are small and stunted, long-nosed and

crooked-limbed, with curly tails often cut, sharp ears which show

that they have not lost the use of the erecting muscles, and so

far wild that they cannot bark. The colour is either black and

white or yellow and white, as in Stambul and India. Overrun with

ticks and foul with mange, they are too broken-spirited to rob,

except by secretly sneaking into the huts, and, however often

beaten off, they return to the charge like sitting hens. The

people prize these wretched tikes, because they are ever ready to

worry a stranger, and are useful in driving game from the bush.

Yet they barbarously ill-treat them. The hungry cats are as poor

a breed as the pure English, and, though no one feeds them, these

domesticated tigerkins swarm. The only happy pets are the

parrots. Every village swarms with hogs, the filthy wealth of the

old Saxon proprietor, and their habits are disgusting as their

forms are obscene. Every Anglo-Indian will understand what I

mean.

My memory of "Congo chop" is all in its favour: I can recommend

it even to "Fin Bee." The people of S'a Leone declare that your

life is safe when you can enjoy native food. Perhaps this means

that, during the time required to train the palate, strangers

will have escaped their "seasoning" fevers and chills. But

foreigners will certainly fare better and, cæteris paribus,

outlive their brother whites, when they can substitute African

stews for the roast and boiled goat and cow, likest to donkey-

meat, for the waxy and insipid potato and for heavy pudding and

tart, with which their jaded stomach is laden, as if it had the

digestion of north latitude 50°. It is popularly believed that

the Germans, who come from the land of greatest extremes, live

longer at the White Man's Grave than the English, whereas the

Spaniards are the most short-lived, one consul per annum being

the normal rate. Perhaps the greater "adaptability" of the Teuton

explains the cause.

The evening began with a game of ball in the large open space

amongst the houses forming the village square. The implement was

a roll of palm-coir tightly bound with the central fibre of the

plantain-leaf. The players, two parties of some twenty slaves, of

all ages and sizes, mingled, each side striving to catch the

ball, and with many feints and antics to pass it on to a friend.

When it fell out of bounds, the juniors ran to pick it up with

frantic screams. It was interesting, as showing the difference

between the highlander and the lowlander; one might pass years on

the Congo plains without seeing so much voluntary exertion: yet a

similar game of ball is described by the Rev. Mr. Waddell

("Twenty-nine years in the West Indies and Central Africa," chap.

xvii. London, Nelsons, 1863). The evening ended, as it often does

before a march, when rest is required, with extra hard work, a

drinking bout deep as the Rhineland baron's in the good old time,

and a dance in which both sexes joined. As there were neither

torches nor moon, I did not attend; the singing, the shouting,

and the drumming, which lasted till midnight, spoke well for the

agility and endurance of the fair montagnardes.

What lightens Gidi Mavunga's steps is the immediate prospect of

the Munlola or preliminary showers, which, beginning in mid-

September, last, with a certain persistence of fall, till

October. During the Munlola, the sea-breeze is silent, and the

sky is clad with a very thin mist, which, however, supplies

abundant downfalls. The year in the Lower Congo corresponds with

that of the Gaboon in practice, if not in theory, and the storms

are furious as those of Yoruba, where the seasons are, of course,

inverted, the great rains extending from May to August. The

climate is capricious, as everywhere about the equator, and the

nearer the river the heavier are the showers. The people double

their lives by reckoning the rains as one year, and the dries as

another: when the old missionaries wished to explain that the

Saviour offered Himself for the sins of man at the age of thirty-

three, they said that he was sixty-six seasons old.

After the light rains of the autumnal equinox, come the Mvula za

Chintomba, the "Chuvas grandes" of the Portuguese, lasting to the

end of November. They are heavy, accompanied by violent tornadoes

and storms, greatly feared by the people. The moisture of the

atmosphere, not being gradually condensed by forests, must be

precipitated in violent downfalls, and this is perhaps the

principal evil of clearing the country. December begins the

"little dries," which extend to February and March; then set in

the rains of the vernal equinox, with furious discharges of

electricity; June is the wettest month on the highlands, but not

on the lower river. In mid-July commence the "middle-dries," here

called Ngondi Asivu (Tuckey's "Gondy Assivoo"); upon the upper

river this Cacimbo lasts between April and September; when it

passes over the bush is burned, and the women hoe the ground to

receive its seed. Carli well describes this season when he says:-

-"The winter of the kingdom of Congo is the mild spring or autumn

of Italy; it is not subject to rains, but every morning there

falls a dew which fertilizes the earth." This meteor was not

observed on the highlands of Banza Nokki and Nkulu; it is

probably confined to the low country, where I found it falling

heavily.

Chapter XIII.

The March to Banza Nkulu.

But revelry at night brings morning headache, and we did not set

out, as agreed, at dawn. By slow degrees the grumbling, loitering

party was mustered. The chiefs were Gidi Mavunga, head guide, and

his son Papagayo, a dull quiet body; Chico Mpamba, "French

landlord" of Banza Nokki, and my interpreter Nchama Chamvu.

Fourteen armed moleques carried our hammocks and our little

viaticum in the shape of four bottles of present-gin, two costa-

finas, (= twenty-four yards of fancy cotton), and fourteen

fathoms of satin-stripe, the latter a reserved fund. The boy

"Lendo," whose appropriate name means "The Go," bore a burden of

his own size all day, and acted as little foot-page at the halt.

The "gentlemen" were in full travelling costume. Slung by a thong

to the chief guide's left shoulder were a tiger-cat skin,

cardamom-sheaths and birds' beaks and claws clustering round a

something in shape like the largest German sausage, the whole

ruddled with ochre: this charm must not be touched by the herd; a

slave-lad, having unwittingly offended, knelt down whilst the

wearer applied a dusty big toe between his eyebrows. Papagayo had

a bag of grass-cloth and bits of cane, from which protruded

strips of leather and scarlet broadcloth.

At 6.45 A.M. on Saturday, September 12, we exchanged the fields

surrounding Banza Chinguvu for a ridge or narrow plateau trending

to the north-east and bending to the magnetic north. A few

minutes led to a rock-slope, fit only for goat-hoofs or nude-

footed natives. Winding along the hill-sides, we passed out of

the Nokki territory into that of Ntombo, the property of Mfumo

Nelongo: here we descended into a little vale or gorge bright as

verdure could make it--

"arborets and flowers

Imborder'd on each bank"

of a bubbling brook, a true naiad of the hills, which ran to the

embrace of the mighty stream; it characteristically stained its

bed with iron. On our right was a conspicuous landmark, Zululu ke

Sombe, a tall rock bearing the semblance of an elephant from the

north-east, visible from the Congo's right bank and commanding a

view of all the hills. Banza Vivi, our first destination,

perching high on the farther side of the blue depression, bore

due north. We then struck the roughest of descents, down broken

outcrops and chines of granite--no wonder that the women have

such grand legs. This led us into a dark green depression where

lay Banza Chinsavu, the abode of King Nelongo. Our course had

been three miles to the north-north-east.

Nothing can be more charming than the site, a small horseshoe

valley, formed by a Wady or Fiumara, upon whose raised left bank

stands the settlement, sheltered by palms, plantations, and wild

figs. Eastward is a slope of bare rock polished by the rain-

torrents; westward rise the grassy hills variegated with bush and

boulder. We next crossed a rocky divide to the north and found a

second basin also fertilized by its own stream; here the cactus

and aloes, the vegetation of the desert, contrasted with half-a-

dozen shades of green, the banana, the sycamore, the egg-plant,

the sweet potato, the wild pepper, and the grass, whose colours

were paling, but not so rapidly as in the lower lands.

We dismounted in state from our tipoias at the verandah of an

empty house, where a chair had been placed; and we prepared for

the usual delay and display. The guides will not leave these

villages unvisited lest a "war" result; all the chiefs are

cousins and one must not monopolize the plunder. A great man

takes an hour to dress, and Nelongo was evidently soothing the

toils of the toilette with a musical bellows called an accordeon.

He sent us some poor, well-watered Msámbá (palm toddy), and

presently he appeared, a fat, good-natured man, as usual,

ridiculously habited. He took the first opportunity of curtly

saying in better Portuguese than usual, "There is no more march

to-day!" This was rather too much for a somewhat testy traveller,

when he changed his tone, begged me not to embroil him with a

powerful neighbour, and promised that we should set out that

evening. He at once sent for provisions, fowls, and a small

river-fish, sugar-cane, and a fine bunch of S. Thomé bananas.

About noon appeared Chico Furano, son of the late Chico de Ouro,

in his quality of "English linguister;" a low position to which

want of "savvy" has reduced him. His studies of our tongue are

represented by an eternal "Yes!" his wits by the negative; he

boasts of knowing how to "tratar com o branco" and, declining to

bargain, he robs double. He is a short, small, dark man with

mountaineer legs, a frightful psora, and an inveterate habit of

drink. He saluted his superior, Nelongo, with immense ceremony,

dating probably from the palmy times of the Mwani-Congo. Equals

squat before one another, and shaking hands crosswise clap palms.

Chico Furano kneels, places both "ferients" upon the earth and

touches his nose-tip; he then traces three ground-crosses with

the Jovian finger; again touches his nose; beats his "volæ" on

the dust, and draws them along the cheeks; then he bends down,

applying firstly the right, secondly the left face side, and

lastly the palms and dorsa of the hands to mother earth. Both

superior and inferior end with the Sakila or batta-palmas,[FN#26]

three bouts of three claps in the best of time separated by the

shortest of pauses, and lastly a "tiger" of four claps. The

ceremony is more elaborate than the "wallowings" and dust-

shovellings described by Ibn Batuta at the Asiatic courts, by

Jobson at Tenda,by Chapperton at Oyo,by Denham amongst the

Mesgows, and by travellers to Dahome and to the Cazembe. Yet the

system is virtually the same in these distant kingdoms, which do

not know one another's names.

Chico Furano brought a Mundongo slave, a fine specimen of

humanity, some six feet high, weighing perhaps thirteen stone,

all bone and muscle, willing and hard-working, looking upon the

Congo men as if they were women or children. He spoke a few words

of Portuguese, and with the master's assistance I was able to

catechize him. He did not deny that his people were "papagentes,"

but he declared that they confined the practice to slain enemies.

He told a number of classical tales about double men, attached,

not like the Siamese twins, but dos-à-dos; of tribes whose feet

acted as parasols, the Plinian Sciapodæ and the Persian Tasmeh-

pa, and of mermen who live and sleep in the inner waters--I also

heard this from M. Parrot, a palpable believer. He described his

journey down the great river, and declared that beyond his

country's frontier the Nzadi issues from a lake which he

described as having a sea-horizon, where canoes lose sight of

land, and where they are in danger from violent storms; he

described the latter with great animation, and his descriptions

much reminded me of Dibbie, the "Dark Lake." Probably this was

genuine geography, although he could not tell the name of the

inner sea, the Achelunda of old cosmographers. Tuckey's map also

lays down in N. lat. 2° to 3° and in E. long. (G.) 17° to 18° a

great swamp draining to the south; and his "Narrative" (p. 178)

tells us that some thirty days above Banza Mavunda, which is 20

to 24 miles above the Yellala, "the river issues by many small

streams from a great marsh or lake of mud." This would suggest a

reservoir alternately flooded and shrinking; possibly lacustrine

bays and the bulges formed by the middle course of the Lualaba.

Despite the promise, we were delayed by King Nekorado, whose

town, Palabala, lies at some distance, and who, negro-like, will

consult only his own convenience. In the afternoon we were

visited by a royal son, who announced that his royal father

feared the heat, but would appear with the moon, which was

equivalent to saying that we might expect him on the morrow. He

is known to be a gueux, and Gidi Mavunga boasts of having harried

and burned sundry of his villages, so he must make up by

appearance for deficient reality. His appearance was announced by

the Mpungi, the Egyptian Zagharit, the Persian Kil; this

"lullilooing" in the bush country becomes an odd moaning howl

like the hyaena's laugh. Runners and criers preceded the hammock,

which he had probably mounted at the first field; a pet slave

carried his chair, covered with crimson cloth, and Frédérique his

"linguister" paced proudly by its side.

After robing himself in Nelongo's house, King Nekorado held a

levee under the shadiest fig, which acted bentang-tree; all the

moleques squatting in a demi-lune before the presence. A short

black man, with the round eyes, the button-like nose, the fat

circular face, and the weakly vanishing chin which denote the

lower type of Congoese, he coldly extended a chimpanzee's paw

without rising or raising his eyes, in token that nothing around

him deserved a glance. I made him au-fait as to my intentions,

produced, as "mata-bicho," a bottle of gin, and sent a dash of

costa-fina, to which a few yards of satin-stripe were thrown in.

The gin was drunk with the usual greed, and the presents were

received with the normal objections.

"Why should not I, a king like Nessudikira, receive a ‘dash'

equal to his?"

"He is my host, I pay him for bed and board!"

"We are all cousins; why shall one be treated better than the

other?"

"As you please! you have received your due, and to-day we march."

After this I rose and returned to my hut ready for the inevitable

"row."

It was not long coming; the new arrivals set up the war-song, and

Gidi Mavunga thought it time to make a demonstration. Drawing an

old cutlass and bending almost double, he began to rush about,

slashing and cutting down imaginary foes, whilst his men looked

to their guns. The greenhorn would have expected a regular stand-

up fight, ending in half-a-dozen deaths, but the Papagayo

snatched away his father's rusty blade, and Chico Furano, seizing

the warrior's head, despite the mildest of resistance, bent it

almost to the ground. Thus valour succumbed to numbers. "He is a

great man," whispered my interpreter, "and if they chaunt their

battle-song, he must show them his bravery." The truly

characteristic scene ended in our being supplied with some

fourteen black pots full of flesh, fowl, beans, and manioc,

together with an abundance of plantains and sugar-cane; a select

dish was "put in fetish" (set aside) for Gidi Mavunga, and the

friendly foes all sat down to feast. The querelle d'Allemand

ended with a general but vain petition for "t'other bottle."

Fahrenheit showed 90° in the shade, as we bade adieu to the

little land-bay, and made for the high rugged wall to the north-

north-east separating the river valley from the inner country. On

the summit we halted to enjoy the delicious sea-breeze with its

ascending curve, and the delightful prospect far below. Some

1,300 feet beneath us appeared the Nzadi, narrowed to a torrent,

and rushing violently down its highly inclined bed, a straight

reach running east and west, in length from four and a half to

five miles. As we fronted north, the Morro (cliff) Kala fell

bluff towards its blue bight, the Mayumba Bay of the chart, on

our left; to the right a black gate formed by twin cliffs shut

out the upper stream from view. The panorama of hill-fold and

projection, each bounded by deep green lines, which argued

torrents during the rains; the graceful slopes sinking towards

the river and indenting the bed and the little tree-clad isle,

Zun gáchyá Idí (Tuckey's "Zunga Tooly Calavangoo") hugging the

northern side, where the Lufu torrent adds its tribute to the

waters, convinced me that the charms of Congo scenery had not

been exaggerated. Yet the prospect had its element of sadness;

the old ruffian, Gidi Mavunga, recounted how he had burned this

place and broken that, where palm-clumps, grass-clearings, and

plantations lying waste denoted the curse of Ham upon the land.

Our course now wound north-eastwards along hill-shoulders, rich

in flowery plants and scented mimosa. After two hours' walking,

we came suddenly upon the Morro or cliff of the river-trough, now

about 1,000 feet deep. Here the prospect again shifted; the black

gate opened, showing the lowest of the long line of rapids called

Borongwa ya Vivi, with the natives and their canoes, like flies

upon bits of straw.

On the southern bank was a small perennial influent, lined with

bright green above, and with chocolate brown below, within some

twenty yards of its mouth. It arises, they say, near S. Salvador,

and is not navigable, although in places it bears canoes. The

people call it Npozo, possibly it represents the S. Salvador

River of old travellers. The distance was three direct or five

indirect miles north of the stony cone, Zululu ke Sombe.

The descent was a malevoie, over slabs and boulders, loose stones

and clayey ground, slippery as ice after rain. The moleques

descended like chamois within twenty minutes: Selim and I, with

booted feet, took double the time, but on return we ascended it

in forty-five minutes. Viewed from below, the base rests upon

cliffs of gneiss, with debris and quartz in masses, bands and

pebbles, pure and impure, white and rusty. Upon it rises a

stratum of ferruginous clay, with large hard-heads of granite,

gneiss, and schist, blocks of conglomerate, and nodules of

ironstone. Higher still is the bank of yellow clay, capped with

shallow humus. The waving profile is backed by steep hills, with

rocky sides and long ridges of ground, the site of the palm-

hidden Banzas.

Reaching the base, a heap of tumbled boulders, we crossed in a

canoe the mouth of the Npozo to a sandy cove in the southern

bank, the terminus of river navigation. The people called it

Unyenge Assiku: I cannot but suspect that this is the place where

Tuckey left his boats, and which he terms "Nomaza Cove." The name

is quite unknown, and suggests that the interpreters tried to

explain by "No majia" (water) that here the voyage must end.

Off this baylet are three rocky islets, disposed in a triangle,

slabs collected by a broken reef, and collectively known as Zunga

Nuapozo; the clear-way is between them and the southern bank,

which is partly provided with a backwater; the northern three

quarters of the bed show something like a scour and a rapid.

Zunga chya Ingololo, the northernmost and smallest, bears a

single tree, and projects a bar far into the stream: the central

and westernmost is a rock with a canoe passage between it and the

southern and largest, Zunga chya Tuvi. The latter has three tree-

clumps; and a patch of clean white sand on its western side

measures the daily rise of the water, eight inches to a foot, and

shows the highest level of the flood, here twelve to thirteen

feet. The fishermen use it as a drying-ground for their game.

They also crowd every day to two sandy covelets on the southern

bank, separated by a tongue of rough boulders. Here naked urchins

look on whilst their fathers work, or aid in drying the nets, or

lie prone upon the sand, exposing their backs to the broiling

sun. The other denizens of the place are fish-eagles, who sit en

faction upon the topmost branches of withered trees. I saw only

two kinds of fish, one small as a minnow, and the other

approaching the size of a herring. Up stream they are said to be

much larger. They are not salted, but smoked or sun-dried when

the weather serves: stuffed with chillies and fried with oil,

they are good eating as the Kinnam of the Gold Coast.

We prepared to bivouac under a fine shady Saffu, or wild fig, a

low, thick trunk whose dark foliage, fleshy as the lime-leaf, so

often hangs its tresses over the river, and whose red berries may

feed man as well as monkey. The yellow flowers of hypericum,

blooming around us, made me gratefully savour our escape from

mangrove and pandamus. About sunset a gentle shower, the first of

the season, caused the fisher-boys to dance with joy; it lasted

two good hours, and then it was dispersed by a strong westerly

breeze. Canoes and lights flashed before our eyes during half the

night; and wild beasts, answering one another from rock to rock,

hundreds of feet above us, added a savage, African feature to the

goodly mise-en-scène.

Arising early next morning, I was assured that it is necessary to

cross the stream in order to reach the Cataracts. Tuckey did so,

but further inquiry convinced me that it is a mistake to march

along the northern bank. Of course, in skirting the southern

side, we should not have approached so near the stream, where

bluffs and débris rendered travelling hopeless. The amiable

ichthyophagi agreed for two fathoms of fancy cloth to ferry us

across the river, which is here half a mile broad. The six-knot

current compels canoes to run up the left shore by means of its

backwater, and, when crossing, to make allowance for the drift

downwards. The aneroid now showed 860 feet of absolute altitude,

and about sixty-five feet above the landing-place of Banza Nokki;

the distance along the stream is fourteen miles, and thus the

fall will be about five feet per mile below the Borongwa ya Vivi.

We could see from a level the "smaller rapids of Vivi" bursting

through their black gate with angry foam, flashing white from

side to side. No canoe could shoot this "Cachoeira," but I do not

think that a Nile Dahabiyah or a Brazilian Ajôjô would find great

difficulty. Between us and the rapids, the concavity of the

southern bank forms a bight or bay. The vortices, in which

Tuckey's sloop was whirled round despite oars and sails, and in

whose hollow the punt entirely disappeared, "so that the

depression must have been three or four feet deep," were nowhere

seen at this fuller season. The aspect of the surface is that of

every large deep stream with broken bottom; the water boils up in

ever widening domes, as though a system of fountains sprang from

below. Each centre is apparently higher than its circle; it

spreads as if a rock had been thrown into it, and the outer rim

throws off little eddies and whirls no larger than a thimble. The

mirrory surface of the lower river thus becomes mottled with

light and shade, and the reflected image of the trough-cliff is

broken into the most fantastic shapes.

Fifteen minutes of hard paddling landed us at Selele, a stony

point between two sandy baylets: amongst the mass of angular

boulders a tree again showed the highest flood-mark to be 13

feet. Here for the first time I remarked the black glaze

concerning which so much has been written.[FN#28] The colour is a

sunburnt black, tinted ferruginous red like meteoric stones, and

it is generally friable, crumbling under the nails. It tastes

strongly of iron, which flavours almost every spring in the

country, yet the most likely places do not show this

incrustation. Sometimes it looks like a matrix in which pudding-

stone has been imbedded; it may be two or three lines in

thickness and it does not colour the inside. At other times it

hardly measures the thickness of paper, coating the gneiss slabs

like plumbago. Humboldt tells us ("Personal Narrative," ii. 243,

Bohn), that the "Indians" of the Atures declare the rocks to be

burnt (carbonized) by the sun's rays, and I have often found the

same black glaze upon the marly sandstones that alternate with

calcareous formations where no stream ever reached them--for

instance, on the highlands of Judea, between Jerusalem and the

Dead Sea; in inner Istria, and in most countries upon the borders

of the Mediterranean.

Leaving Selele, we ascended a steep hill with many glissadès, the

effect of last night's rain. These hammock-journeys are mostly

equivalent to walking and paying for carriage; it would be

cruelty to animals were one to ride except when entering the

villages. After threading for half an hour lanes of grass, we

were received in a little village of the Banza Vivi district by

Nessala, linguistère to King Luvungungwete. The guest room was

furnished with every luxury; hides of a fine antelope described

as the Kudu; cruets, basins, bottles, and other vases; "lustre

mugs," John Andersons and Toby Philpots. A good calabash, full of

"Freshening wine

More bounteous far than all the frantic juice

Which Bacchus pours,"

was produced, although the drought and scarcity of June rain had

dried the palms. Before I outstretched myself, the fairer half of

the population sent a message to say that they had never seen a

white man: what less could be done than to distribute a few beads

and pat the children, who screamed like sucking pigs and

"squirmed" like young monkeys?

The Chrononhotonthologus of a king came in the afternoon with a

tail of a hundred vertebræ: he was a milder specimen than usual;

he had neither Mambrino's helmet nor beadle's cloak, and perhaps

his bashfulness in the presence of strangers arose from a

consciousness that his head-gear and robes were not in keeping

with his station. But he did not fail to grumble at his "dash;"

indeed, he must be more than African who shall say, "Hold!

enough." He vouchsafed a small return in fowls and "beneficent

manioc," and sent with us three slaves, to serve, not as guides,

but as a basis for a separate charge.

After sunset all was made ready for the Batuque. The ball-room

was the village square; the decorations were the dense trees; the

orchestra consisted of two drums, a grande caisse eight feet and

a half long, placed horizontally, and a smaller specimen standing

on a foot like that of an old-fashioned champagne-glass; the

broader ends were covered with deer skins, upon which both hands

perform; and the illuminations were flaming heaps of straw,

which, when exhausted, were replaced by ground-nuts spitted upon

a bamboo splint. This contrivance is far simpler than a dip-

candle, the arachis is broken off as it chars, and, when the lamp

dims, turning it upside down causes a fresh flow of oil. The

ruder sex occupied one half of the ring, and the rest was

appropriated to dame and damsel. The Batuque is said to be the

original Cachucha; Barbot calls it a danse des filoux, and it has

the merit of perfectly expressing, as Captain Cook's companions

remarked of the performances in the South Sea Islands, what it

means.

The hero of the night was Chico Mpamba; he must have caused a

jealous pang to shoot through many a masculine bosom. With

bending waist, arms gracefully extended forwards, and fingers

snapping louder than castanets; with the upper half of the body

fixed as to a stake, and with the lower convulsive as a scotched

snake, he advanced and retired by a complicated shuffle, keeping

time with the tom-tom and jingling his brass anklets, which

weighed at least three pounds, and which, by the by, lamed him

for several days. But he was heroic as the singer who broke his

collar-bone by the ut di petto. A peculiar accompaniment was a

dulcet whistle with lips protruded; hence probably the fable of

Pliny's Astomoi, and the Africans of Eudoxus, whose joined lips

compelled them to eat a single grain at a time, and to drink

through a cane before sherry-cobblers were known. Others joined

him, dancing either vis-à-vis or by his side; and more than one

girl, who could no longer endure being a wall-flower, glided into

the ring and was received with a roar of applause. In the

feminine performance the eyes are timidly bent upon the ground;

the steps are shorter and daintier, and the ritrosa appears at

once to shun and to entice her cavalier, who, thus repulsed and

attracted, redoubles the exciting measure till the delight of the

spectators knows no bounds. Old Gidi Mavunga flings off his upper

garment, and with the fire of a youth of twenty enters the

circle, where his performance is looked upon with respect, if not

with admiration. Wilder and wilder waxeth the "Devil's delight,"

till even the bystanders, especially the women, though they keep

their places in the outer circle, cannot restrain that wonderful

movement of haunch and flank. I laughed till midnight, and left

the dancers dancing still.

At 5 A.M. the strayed revellers found to their disgust a thick

fog, or rather a thin drizzle, damping grass and path, and

suggesting anything but a pleasant trudge. They declared that

starvation awaited us, as the "fancy cloths" were at an end, but

I stopped that objection by a reference to the reserved fund.

After an hour of sulky talk we set out towards the upper part of

Banza Vivi, passing a small but pretty hill plain, with manioc-

fields, gum-trees, and the bombax very symmetrical. We saw no

animals: here and there appeared the trail of a hyaena, the only

larger carnivor that now haunts the mountains. The song of Mkuka

Mpela, the wild pigeon, and Fungú, the cuckoo, were loud in the

brake: the Abbé Proyart makes the male cuculus chant his coo,

coo, coo; mounting one note above another with as much precision

as a musician would sound his ut, re, mi: when he reached the

third note, his mate takes it up and ascends to the octave. After

this both recommence the same song.

The stiff ascent gave us lovely views of the lake-like river and

both its banks: after three quarters of an hour we reached Vivi

of Banza Simbo. The people vainly called to us, "Wiza!"-- "Come

thou!" and "Luiza! luiza kwenu!"-- "Come, come here!" Our

moleques, disliking the dangerous proximity, advanced at a walk

which might be called a canter.

Presently we reached the dividing ridge, 1,394 feet high, between

Banza Vivi and Nkulu, whose palm-trees, thrown out against the

sky, bore 82° (M.) Looking to the north with easting, we had a

view of no less than six distinct distances. The actual

foreground, a hollow between two land-waves, could not conceal

the "Crocodile's Head:" the latter, five miles off and bearing

65° (M.), forms the southern staple of the Yellala Gate, whose

rapids were not visible, and it fronts the Quoin, which hems in

the stream on the other side. The key-stone of the inverted arch

between them was a yellow-flanked, tree-topped hill, rising

immediately above the great rapids: beyond if waved, in far

succession, three several swells of ground, each flatter and

bluer than its nearer neighbour, and capping the whole stood

Kongo de Lemba, a tall solitary sugarloaf, bearing 75° (M.), with

its outlying conelets concealing like a mass of smoke the world

that lay beyond.

The ridges appeared to trend north and south, and to approach the

river's bending bed at different angles; their sides were steep,

and in places scarped where they fell into the intervening

hollows. The valleys conducted many a water to the main drain,

and during the wet season they must be well-nigh impassable. At

the end of the dries the only green is in the hill-folds and the

basin-sinks, where the trees muster strong enough to defend

themselves from the destructive annual fires. These bush-burnings

have effectually disforested the land, and in some places

building timber and even fuel have become scarce. In the Abrus,

barely two feet high, I could hardly recognize the tall tree of

Eastern Africa, except by its scarlet "carats," which here the

people disdain to use as beads. The scorching of the leaves

stunts the shrubs, thickens the bark, and makes the growth

scrubby, so that the labourer has nothing to do but to clear away

the grass: I afterwards remarked the same effects on the

Brazilian Campos.

We descended the dividing ridge, which is also painfully steep,

especially near the foot, and crossed the rolling hollow with its

three chalybeate brooks, beyond which lay our destination. Tuckey

describes the hills between Boma and Nkulu as stony and barren,

which is perhaps a little too strong. The dark red clay soil,

dried almost to the consistency of laterite, cannot be loosened

by rain or sun, and in places it is hardened like that of

Brazilian Porto Seguro, where the people complain that they

cannot bury their dead. All the uplands, however, grow grass

which is sometimes ten to twelve feet tall, and in places there

are shrubs and trees. About Nkulu the highlands are rightly

described as "steep hills of quartz, ferruginous earth, and

syenite with fertile tops:" rocks and stones are rare upon the

plateaux: they are rich enough to produce everything from wheat

to coffee, and hardly a hundredth part is cultivated. Thin and

almost transparent lines of palms denote the several Banzas on

the ridges, and in the valley are rock circles like magnified and

prostrated Stonehenges.

The "termes arborum" is universal, and anthills form a prominent

feature. It has been remarked that these buildings are the most

conspicuous architectural efforts of the country, and the Abbé

Proyart observes that here more effectually than in any other

land man ought to be sent to the ant school. The material is of

dark and sometimes black earth as in the Gaboon, and the shape is

the umbrella, rarely double or pagoda-roofed. The column may be

twelve to eighteen inches high, and the diameter of the capital

attains two feet: I never saw, however, a "gigantic toadstool as

high as a one-storied house."[FN#28] Nor are the mushroom tops

now used as chafing-dishes.