There was no doubt that these people were not inventing. Their
vehemence, their flashing eyes, their excitement, was not simulated.
Doubtless they exaggerated the numbers, but they were clearly telling
what they knew and loathed. I was told that they often became so furious
at the recollection of what had been done to them that they lost control
over themselves. One of the men before me was getting into this state
now.
I asked whether L* tribes were still running from their country, or
whether they now stayed at home and worked voluntarily.
N N answered: “They cannot run away now--not easily; there are sentries
in the country there between the Lake and this; besides, there are few
people left.”
P P said: “We heard that letters came to the white men to say that the
people were to be well treated. We heard that these letters had been
sent by the big white men in ‘Mputu’ (Europe); but our white men tore up
these letters, laughing, saying: ‘We are the “basango” and “banyanga”
(fathers and mothers, _i.e._, elders). Those who write to us are only
“bana” (children).’ Since we left our homes the white men have asked us
to go home again. We have heard that they want us to go back, but we
will not go. We are not warriors, and do not want to fight. We only want
to live in peace with our wives and children, and so we stay here among
the K*, who are kind to us, and will not return to our homes.”
_Q._ “Would you not like to go back to your homes? Would you not, in
your hearts, all wish to return?”
_A._ (By many.) “We loved our country, but we will not trust ourselves
to go back.”
P P: “Go, you white men, with the steamer to I*, and see what we have
told you is true. Perhaps if other white men, who do not hate us, go
there, Bula Matadi may stop from hating us, and we may be able to go
home again.”
I asked to be pointed out any refugees from other tribes, if there were
such, and they brought forward a lad who was a X**, and a man of the
Z**. These two, answering me, said there were many with them from their
tribes who had fled from their country.
* * * * *
Went on about fifteen minutes to another L* group of houses in the midst
of the K* town. Found here mostly W**, an old Chief sitting in the open
village Council-house with a Z** man and two lads. An old woman soon
came and joined, and another man. The woman began talking with much
earnestness. She said the Government had worked them so hard they had
had no time to tend their fields and gardens, and they had starved to
death. Her children had died; her sons had been killed. The two men, as
she spoke, muttered murmurs of assent.
The old Chief said: “We used to hunt elephants long ago, there were
plenty in our forests, and we got much meat; but Bula Matadi killed the
elephant hunters because they could not get rubber, and so we starved.
We were sent out to get rubber, and when we came back with little rubber
we were shot.”
_Q._ “Who shot you?”
_A._ “The white men ... sent their soldiers out to kill us.”
_Q._ “How do you know it was the white man who sent the soldiers? It
might be only these savage soldiers themselves.”
_A._ “No, no. Sometimes we brought rubber into the white man’s stations.
We took rubber to D E’s station, E E*, and to F F* and to ...’s station.
When it was not enough rubber the white man would put some of us in
lines, one behind the other, and would shoot through all our bodies.
Sometimes he would shoot us like that with his own hand; sometimes his
soldiers would do it.”
_Q._ “You mean to say you were killed in the Government posts themselves
by the Government white men themselves, or under their eyes?”
_A._ (Emphatically.) “We were killed in the stations of the white men
themselves. We were killed by the white man himself. We were shot before
his eyes.”
The names D E, B C, and L M, were names I heard repeatedly uttered.
The Z** man said he, too, had fled; now he lived at peace with the K*.
The abnormal refugee population in this one K* town must equal the
actual K* population itself. On every hand one finds these refugees.
They seem, too, to pass busier lives than their K* hosts, for during all
the hot hours of the afternoon, wherever I walked through the town--and
I went all through N* until the sun set--I found L* weavers, or iron and
brass workers, at work.
Slept at M M’s house. Many people coming to talk to us after dark.
Left N* about 8 to return to the Congo bank. On the way back left the
main path and struck into one of the side towns, a village called A A*.
This lies only some 4 or 5 miles from the river. Found here thirty-two
L* houses with forty-three K*, so that the influx of fugitives here is
almost equal to the original population. Saw many L*. All were
frightened, and they and the K* were evidently so ill at ease that I did
not care to pause. Spoke to one or two men only as we walked through the
town. The L* drew away from us, but on looking back saw many heads
popped out of doors of the houses we had passed.
Got back to steamer about noon.
* * * * *
Heard that L* came sometimes to M* from I*. I am now 100 miles (about)
up-river from N*. Went into one of the M* country farm towns called B
B*. Found on entering plantation two huts with five men and one woman,
who I at once recognized by their head-dress as L*, like those at N*.
The chief speaker, a young man named ... who lives at B B*. He seems
about 22 or 23, and speaks with an air of frankness. He says: “The L*
here and others who come to M*, come from a place C C*. It is connected
with the lake by a stream. His own town in the district of C C* is D D*.
C C* is a big district and had many people. They now bring the
Government india-rubber, kwanga, and fowls, and work on broad paths
connecting each village. His own village has to take 300 baskets of
india-rubber. They get one piece of cotton cloth, called locally sanza,
and no more.” (Note.--This cannot be true. He is doubtless
exaggerating.) Four other men with him were wearing the rough palm-fibre
cloth of the country looms, and they pointed to this as proof that they
got no cloth for their labours. K K continuing said: “We were then
killed for not bringing in enough rubber.”
_Q._ “You say you were killed for not bringing in rubber. Were you ever
mutilated as proof that the soldiers had killed you?”
_A._ “When we were killed the white man was there himself. No proof was
needed. Men and women were put in a line with a palm tree and were
shot.”
Here he took three of the four men sitting down and put them one in line
behind the other, and said: “The white men used to put us like that and
shoot all with one cartridge. That was often done, and worse things.”
_Q._ “But how, if you now have to work so hard, are you yourselves able
to come here to M* to see your friends?”
_A._ “We came away without the sentries or soldiers knowing, but when we
get home we may have trouble.”
_Q._ “Do you know the L* who are now at N*?” (Here I gave the names of N
N, O O, and P P.)
_A._ “Yes; many L* fled to that country. N N we know ran away on account
of the things done to them by the Government white men. The K* and L*
have always been friends. That is why the L* fled to them for refuge.”
_Q._ “Are there sentries or soldiers in your villages now?”
_A._ “In the chief villages there are always four soldiers with rifles.
When natives go out into the forest to collect rubber they would leave
one of their number behind to stay and protect the women. Sometimes the
soldiers finding him thus refused to believe what he said, and killed
him for shirking his work. This often happens.”
Asked how far it was from M* to their country they say three days’
journey, and then about two days more on to I* by water, or three if by
land. They begged us to go to their country, they said: “We will show
you the road, we will take you there, and you will see how things are,
and that our country has been spoiled, and we are speaking the truth.”
Left them here and returned to the river bank.
* * * * *
The foregoing entries made at the time in my note-book seemed to me, if
not false, greatly exaggerated, although the statements were made with
every air of conviction and sincerity. I did not again meet with any
more L* refugees, for on my return to G* I stayed only a few hours. A
few days afterwards, while I was at Stanley Pool, I received further
evidence in a letter of which the following is an extract:--
* * * * *
“I was sorry not to see you as you passed down, and so missed the
opportunity of conveying to you personally a lot of evidence as to the
terrible maladministration practised in the past in the district. I saw
the official at the post of E E*. He is the successor of the infamous
wretch D E, of whom you heard so much yourself from the refugees at N*.
This D E was in this district in ..., ..., and ..., and he it was that
depopulated the country. His successor, M N, is very vehement in his
denunciations of him, and declares that he will leave nothing undone
that he can do to bring him to justice. He is now stationed at G G*,
near our station at H H*. Of M N I have nothing to say but praise. In a
very difficult position he has done wonderfully. The people are
beginning to show themselves and gathering about the many posts under
his charge. M N told me that when he took over the station at E E* from
D E he visited the prison, and almost fainted, so horrible was the
condition of the place and the poor wretches in it. He told me of many
things he had heard of from the soldiers. Of D E shooting with his own
hand man after man who had come with an insufficient quantity of rubber.
Of his putting several one behind the other and shooting them all with
one cartridge. Those who accompanied me, also heard from the soldiers
many frightful stories and abundant confirmation of what was told us at
N* about the taking to D E of the organs of the men slain by the
sentries of the various posts. I saw a letter from the present officer
at F F* to M N, in which he upbraids him for not using more vigorous
means, telling him to talk less and shoot more, and reprimanding him for
not killing more than one in a district under his care where there was a
little trouble. M N is due in Belgium in about three months, and says he
will land one day and begin denouncing his predecessor the next. I
received many favours from him, and should be sorry to injure him in any
way.... He has already accepted a position in one of the Companies,
being unable to continue longer in the service of the State. I have
never seen in all the different parts of the State which I have visited
a neater station, or a district more under control than that over which
this M N presides. He is the M N the people of N* told us of, who they
said was kind.
“If I can give you any more information, or if there are any questions
you would like to put to me, I shall be glad to serve you, and through
you these persecuted people.”