MORE VIEWS OF THE CONGO REGION.
Back, stretching far behind the lofty banks of the noble Congo, lies a country rich in its enormous wealth of natural productions. The toil and enterprise of another generation can hardly hope to gauge its resources, and it is doubtful if even coming generations can exhaust its stores.
The vegetation of the Upper Congo region is most wonderful. Whole forests of the oil palm are a common feature. From this tree vast quantities of oil are obtained, while the kernels are used for oil cakes. The India-rubber plant is another important production. Stanley believed that enough of the gum could be exported in a single year to defray the cost of a railway through that section. Vegetables of all descriptions are also abundant.
The trade in ivory alone would furnish, according to Stanley, an enormous revenue. He estimated that one million dollars' worth of ivory could be exported annually for twenty-five years, before the elephant would become extinct in the basin of the Upper Congo.
The banana and the plantain flourish, as do fruits and herbs of many kinds. Potatoes, onions, and cabbages have been introduced from Europe, and thrive here. Rice, wheat, and other grains have done well, when suitable localities have been chosen for them. There is, in fact, scarcely any limit to the natural advantages of an area of over a million square miles. Its fertility and richness of soil are at once a wonder and delight.
It must have been a great disappointment to Stanley, when, on his return from an official visit to Europe, he found that there had been gross and wanton neglect on the part of many whom he had left in charge of the settlement at Leopoldville.
He had pictured to himself well-cultivated gardens and flourishing fields. To his dismay, he found the native town almost hidden by the rank growth which held almost undisputed possession of the soil.
The steel boats were at anchor, as they had been for more than a year. No attempt had been made to clean them or to keep them in repair.
The Europeans and the natives were on the worst of terms. One of the first things he did was to hold a conference with all the neighboring chiefs, and endeavor to restore the feelings of good-fellowship which had previously existed. So successful was he, that he soon induced the chiefs to sign a treaty, in which they agreed to unite with him, as a representative of the Association, to control the entire country south and west of Stanley Pool for the purpose of promoting civilization.
The Association had always been regarded as the chief power. It was in the eyes of the native chiefs invested with sovereign rights affecting peace, war, and commerce. Each chief received a flag of the Association as a symbol of the new confederation. This he was to hoist above his grass-roofed hut on specified state occasions.
Soon after this treaty was signed, Stanley and his little fleet prepared to depart for the Upper Congo. He had a force of about eighty men and a cargo of about six tons, on board his little fleet of vessels, which consisted of two steamers, a launch, a whale boat, and a canoe.
He writes of his outfit: "We have axes to hew the forests, hammers to break the rock, spades to turn up the sod and to drain the marsh, or shovels to raise the rampart, scythes to mow the grass, hatchets to penetrate the jungle, and seeds of all kinds for sowing, saws to rip planking, and hammers, nails, and cabinet-makers' tools to make furniture, needles and thread for sewing all the cloth in these bales, twine to string their beads; and besides these useful articles in the cases, there are also countless 'notions' and fancy knick-knacks to appease the cupidity of the most powerful chief, or excite the desire for adornment in woman."
Among other items may be mentioned some articles used in trade by the white man when he journeyed on the Congo: "A case of velvet caps and hats, six cases of fancy beads, forty-seven bales of cloth, an enormous quantity of medicine, ammunition, and provisions, and four thousand pounds of brass rods."
It is interesting to know that the currency of this section of Africa consists of a brass rod, short and slender. Great numbers of these are required to equal the value of a very small amount of money. Stanley, at one time, had to pay eight hundred of these rods for provisions enough to last the station at Leopoldville three days.
Stanley gives an interesting description of the Upper Congo above Chumbiri, where the wide stretches of the river are thickly studded with islets.
"We have been voyaging, since leaving Boma and the estuary-like breadth of the Lower Congo, in a pass, or defile. From Boma to Vivi, we steamed between two lines of mountain heights. Between Vivi and Isangila, we traveled in a narrow valley parallel with the chasmic trough of the Congo. Between Isangila and Manyanka, our boats ran up the crooked, ravine-like valley of the river. Between Manyanka and Leopoldville, we marched along the edge of the deep fracture in the high land through which the Congo continuously roars.
"Then, after a slight relief, obtained by the lake-like expansion called Stanley Pool, we have been confined again between two mountain lines of more or less picturesqueness, up as far as the rocky point above Chumbiri, to finally emerge into the lacustrine breadth, which the voluminous waters of the Congo have scooped out of the plains and lowlands which we now behold on either hand.
"The real heart of Equatorial Africa is this central fertile region, whose bountiful, unparalleled richness of soil will repay the toil and labor required to bring it within the reach of Europe.
"It was not the uplands of the maritime region, with their millions of ravines and narrow, oven-hot valleys, and bald grass tops, and limited bits of grassy plateaus, with here and there a grove of jungly forest scattered like islets amid the grassy wastes, that I strove for; it was this million square miles of almost level area, which we may call the kernel, that was worth the trouble of piercing the two hundred and thirty-five miles of thick, rude mountain husk which separates it from the energies of Europeans, who, could they but reach it, would soon teach the world what good might come out of Africa."
At the junction of the Ruki River with the Congo, Stanley established a settlement, first called Equator Station, then Equatorville, as it is situated on the Equator.
Proceeding always up stream, Stanley passed through a perfect archipelago; for islets without number dotted the river current.
Here the forest trees attained a height of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet. The underbrush was so dense as to require the use of a hatchet before it could be penetrated.
While passing these "green-walled straits," Stanley had an experience with one of the violent storms sometimes met with in a tropical country.
With a sudden rustle and roar, as though mile after mile of forest were buffeted by a mighty whirlwind, such a storm begins.
The river, which a moment before was like glass, now becomes disturbed by waves, which increase in size and strength each minute.
Huge trees, holding their burdens of parasites and creepers, sway to and fro, and shriek and moan, as if in mortal agony.
The wind sweeps the leaves before it in perfect clouds, and then down comes the rain.
Not a gentle shower, but a genuine rain of the tropics. It drenches one to the skin in a twinkling. It pelts one with hailstones as large as marbles.
The ground, which, perhaps, was parched and dry but a moment ago, is now covered with running water. The grass, which was like dry tinder an hour before, is replaced by the vegetation about it, which now begins to revive under the action of the life-giving bounty of Heaven.
Gathering force from the four quarters of the globe, the clouds have first merged, then burst directly overhead, to let fall a flood of water, which is precipitated to the earth as rain,—a tropical rain!
Man and beast must alike seek shelter from the fury of such a tempest, whether its force is felt on the open savanna or amid a forest of trees groaning under the strain of the gigantic wind and the weight of the mighty flood descending from the sky.
In an hour the clouds have scattered, the hail and the rain have ceased. The gusts of wind grow fainter and fainter. The gentle patter of the drops as they fall from leaf to leaf, the rapid streams, and the shattered boughs are but the few footprints that mark the track of the storm.
The sky is as blue, the sun is as fierce as ever; the thermometer ranges higher and higher; the last solitary trace of the storm cloud vanishes below the horizon, and the storm departs as suddenly as it arrived. Such, then, is a tropical tornado!