Samba: A Story of the Rubber Slaves of the Congo

by Herbert Strang

CHAPTER XI

Bula Matadi comes to Ilola

"Well, Barney," said Jack, when Mr. Martindale's canoe had disappeared, "I don't know how a first mate would feel if he lost his captain in mid-ocean, but I should fancy he'd feel pretty much as I do now."

"And what sort of feeling is now consuming ye, sorr?"

"Mixed, Barney, very mixed! I like the idea of being left in charge, trusted, you know; there's something jolly pleasant about that. But that's the point, you see; I am left in charge."

"Sure I see your maning widout your telling me, sorr. 'Tis just the very same feeling I used to have whin a bhoy, and me mither put the baby in me arms and tould me to sit wid her on the doorstep. 'Twas a sweet pretty colleen, an' I thought a powerful deal uv having such a heap uv loveliness in me arms; but thin, just as you say, sorr, she was in me arms, an' they being thin an' she being fat—begorra! I was soon mighty tired uv it, an' I wished she was ugly so that I might hate her widout sin."

"I hope I shan't feel quite so bad as that, Barney," said Jack with a laugh. "But I own I'm a little anxious with so many people in my charge."

"And not wan uv them to be trusted, saving Pat and meself."

"And this mining claim of my uncle's to keep an eye on and defend without using force."

"And wild beasts prowling around——"

"And that villainous uncle of Samba's somewhere in the neighbourhood, I suppose, waiting a chance to molest us."

"And bedad! if he does, he'll find an Irishman, an Englishman, and a terrier, Irish by breed and Irish by nature, and them three are a match for any fifty Blokos, widout a doubt."

"You're an optimist, Barney. But you're right. It's silly to meet troubles half-way. We had better set about doing something. I used to think our house-master kept our noses rather too close to the grindstone, but I begin to see he was right when he said work was the best cure for the dumps."

"And for what the advertisements call a tindency to corpilence. But what will you be after doing at all, sorr?"

"Well, don't you think that, now our numbers are reduced, it would be as well to move our camp nearer to Imbono's village? We shall be here for a couple of months or so, and if Boloko is still on our tracks we should be less open to surprise near Ilola. Besides, it will give the men something to do. They'd better build grass huts for the whole party, and I don't see why we shouldn't try our hands at architectural improvements."

"Indeed, 'tis a good notion, sorr. But are ye sure Imbono would be willing to have us for close neighbours?"

"We can try. He's my blood brother, you know. And I dare say we can put him up to a thing or two."

The chief made no objection to the suggested change of site; indeed, he offered the assistance of his men in the construction of the new huts. This, however, Jack declined in the politest terms, thinking it better to provide plenty of work for his own men until he had had time to take his bearings. The new huts were built within a short distance of Ilola, near a stream. They were the ordinary grass huts of the natives, but Jack, seeing a number of wooden slabs taken from the bottoms of old canoes, had purchased them from Imbono, and when shaped a little they made a very fair substitute for flooring boards. The new settlement was surrounded with a stockade in the native manner, space enough being left within to accommodate Mr. Martindale and his party when they should return.

This work occupied a fortnight. Everything had gone smoothly, save for trifling squabbles among the natives. These Jack managed to settle with little difficulty, in great part through the excellent qualities of Lepoko, who turned out to be a much better man all round than his brother Nando. When the new village was completed, Jack set the men to make Indian clubs from the trees near at hand, and spent part of the cool hours in instructing his followers in their use. They took readily to the new pastime, and very quickly became proficient in executing a great variety of intricate figures. Jack was elated at the success of his experiment: it not only provided an admirable drill for the men, but accustomed them to take commands from him and thus consolidated his authority.

Imbono's men caught the infection: Indian clubs were soon the order of the day in Ilola; and it gave Jack and Barney no little amusement to see men, women, and children at all times of the day whirling clubs around their heads. Imbono saw that his men's performances were greatly lacking in rhythm and grace, and he begged his blood brother (whom he had named Lokolobolo, "strong leg") to allow some of his men to join in the daily practising. Jack was nothing loth; the more influence he could obtain in this way the better his chances of success in the task his uncle had set him.

He was casting about for some new employment to occupy and interest his men, when a couple of canoes came up the river bearing a letter from Mr. Martindale, and a small consignment of Mauser rifles and ammunition. The letter was dated from Baraka.

DEAR JACK,—

I've got here safely, no interference, no upsets. I've managed to get hold of some rifles—I won't tell you how—and send them to you in charge of some canoe "boys." Hope they'll reach you safely. I've paid the boys well, and promised them as much more if they return and meet me with an acknowledgment from you. I'm off to Boma; will write you again from there if I can find a means of sending the letter. Let me know by the bearer how you are getting on.

On the way down I made more particular inquiries than were possible in coming up as to the methods of the Congo Government. At Stanleyville I met a Frenchman who told me a good deal, and here got rather chummy with an English missionary on his way home to tell the British public some of the effects of King Leopold's rule. One need only look at the man to see that he is the right sort, with the stuff in him for martyrdom if the call came. The things he told me made my skin creep. Leopold seems to be doing his best to depopulate the country. He'll soon make Vanderbilt sing small as a multi-millionaire; but when his pile's made this State of his will be a wilderness.

I find that the natives are required to bring in four kilos of rubber every fortnight. They're supposed to be paid for it, and they do get brass rods or something of the sort; but the pay works out at the rate of three cents a pound—when rubber to my knowledge fetches about eighty cents a pound in the European market! I hear of cases where they don't even get that; a spoonful of salt is supposed to be sufficient. If the rubber don't measure up to the standard, the least punishment the poor wretches get is twenty-five lashes with a whip of hippo hide—the chicotte, an outrageous thing that would cut through a pine log. But they don't stop at twenty-five; a hundred ain't uncommon; no wonder some of the poor creatures peg out after it.

But that's not the worst. These precious "forest guards," as they call them, seem to be little less than fiends. I saw with my own eyes, at one of the villages on the way down, a basket filled with hands, cut from the people these savages have killed for not bringing in enough rubber. The Frenchman told me they have to produce these hands before the Commissary to prove they haven't wasted their cartridges. According to State law they oughtn't to be armed with rifles, but they've got a Belgian thing called the Albini, and that's how they use it. I wouldn't believe that this hand-chopping was done with the knowledge of the officials, though even then it don't relieve them of responsibility; but I heard of a State officer at one of the outposts who actually paid in brass rods for the hands brought him.

Law doesn't count here, and justice is only a name. What do you think of this? A Belgian official quartered himself with twenty native soldiers on a small village, and because they couldn't fix up at once the food required for the visitors, he carried the chief and some of his men to his camp up river, and kept 'em there tied up for a month till a fine of 5,000 brass rods had been paid—ruination for such a small place. The missionary told me that "fights" are constantly taking place, and "fight" simply means massacre. Districts that once held a thousand people are now reduced to a hundred; what natives are not killed get so worn out and dispirited that they are bowled over by sleeping sickness. If this sort of thing goes on much longer, the whole population will be wiped out.

You'll be surprised to get such a long letter; but fact is, I can't think of anything else just now. It makes me fairly sick to think that America had a hand in putting this huge territory under the control of a man whose philanthropic high-falutin comes to this. The whole system is organized murder and pillage under the form of law, and for this King Leopold, who pockets a thumping profit, is responsible before God and man. Now I've told you this you'll know how to deal with that fellow Elbel if he tries any tricks. But remember, no fighting except in self-defence. Patience, my boy—toujours la patience, as the Frenchman said to me when I was boiling with rage and wanted to go right away and speak my mind to the Governor.

Your affectionate uncle,
JOHN MARTINDALE.

P.S.—I saw and heard nothing of Samba.

There was plenty of food for thought here, especially when Jack learnt from the head paddler who had brought the letter that the officials of the Trust in which Ilola was situated were coming up the river to establish new dépôts for the rubber. He wrote a brief account of what he had been doing, and despatched it by the same men. Then, to be prepared for eventualities, he picked out the most intelligent of his followers and began to teach them the use of the rifle. Only a few of them showed any promise as marksmen. But Jack was very patient with them; and having a good stock of ammunition and the promise of more, he did not spare practice, and in a short time had about fifteen fairly trustworthy shots. One man, named Makoko, took to the rifle from the first and ran Jack close as a marksman. Jack was very proud of his pupil. He himself had been the crack shot of his school company; and though there was all the difference in the world between shooting at the butts from a position of rest and shooting at alligators or hippos from a canoe, he had tested his marksmanship with success as he came up the Congo.

Now that some of his men had rifles it occurred to Jack to teach them what he remembered of his company drill. It was a welcome change after their long practice with the Indian clubs, and they entered into it with the pleasure and zest of children. Lepoko was gratified with the rank of sergeant, and Makoko made corporal in recognition of his diligence and skill in musketry. When the company was formed Barney reminded Jack that he had been a corporal in the Irish Fusiliers. "And sure I'd be in the army now, sorr, only they didn't invent the Irish Guards till I was a time-expired man. But having been a corporal, it's meself that is cut out to be your liftinant here, sorr. We've got Pat for the pet uv the reg'mint," he added, "and the only thing that's wanting is the uniform."

"Well, Barney, perhaps for the sake of uniformity we'd better strip and take to the loincloth."

"Ah! you must always be having your bit uv fun, sorr. We'd be far too conspicuous, for my skin at any rate would turn red wid modesty, and the generals say that red coats make the best targets for the inemy."

The drilling of Jack's company was followed with great interest and admiration by Imbono and his men. They never failed to attend the daily parade, and soon desired to join it. Jack delighted the chief by putting the villagers through the same exercises as his own men, excepting, of course, the musketry practice, for which they had no rifles. Before long Jack found himself captain of a company a hundred and fifty strong, all but his fifteen riflemen being spearmen.

Nearly two months had now passed. Jack had not heard again from his uncle, whose return he daily expected. He was anxious to see him again, for lately news had been brought in by excited natives that the servants of the Great White Chief were drawing nearer, their progress being attended by wanton cruelties which boded ill for the men of Ilola. So distressed was Imbono at the tales he heard from these messengers that he thought of dismantling his village and migrating into the depths of the forest. There for a time he and his people might hide from the destroyer. But to a people accustomed to the open the prospect of making a new home in the forest was gloomy indeed. Most of them would probably die of disease before they became acclimatised, and there was great risk of starving while clearings were being made and brought under cultivation. Imbono resolved to wait a little longer, hoping that Bula Matadi might turn back, sated with the spoils from lower reaches of the Lemba.

One day, the visitors so long expected and so little desired arrived at the village. Jack's settlement being on the further side of Ilola from the river, he did not know of their approach until informed of it by a messenger from Imbono. Thirty forest guards of the Great White Chief had come, and with them twenty nondescripts, hangers-on of the licensed pillagers. Their leader was not a white man, as Imbono had expected, but a black man like themselves. This surprised Jack. It was of rather ill omen that the first representatives of King Leopold in Imbono's village should be negroes free from white men's control. But the strangers reported that a white man—his name, they said, was Elobela—was coming up the river behind them. Meanwhile they, in his name, called upon the chief to supply rubber. Imbono desired that his brother Lokolobolo would come into the village and give him advice.

"Faith, I'd do nothing of the sort, sorr," said Barney. "What would ye have any truck wid Elbel's scoundhrels for?"

"But it would be a poor return for Imbono's kindness to refuse. I shall certainly go; the question is, shall I go armed?"

"The blessed angels help ye if ye don't, sorr. Take your revolver; I'll come wid ye, and so will Pat; 'tis right to make a good show for the honour of the reg'mint."

Accordingly captain, lieutenant, and regimental pet, with Lepoko as interpreter, left the stockaded camp and crossed to Ilola. They found the thirty forest guards already swaggering about the village as if it belonged to them. They were big muscular Ngombe, armed with rifle, cutlass, and whip. Their leader was engaged in conversation with the chief. No sooner did Pat perceive him than he darted forward with a growl, and coming to the negro, began to bark furiously at his heels. The man turned round quickly and aimed a blow with his whip at the dog, which made Pat bark and jump more vigorously than ever. At the same moment the man caught sight of Jack, and his face expressed surprise, guilt, and bravado in turn.

"Begorra!" said Barney under his breath, "'tis Bloko himself!"

The chief's countenance cleared; he was unmistakably pleased at Jack's ready response to his request. Then he anxiously asked what he should do.

"I don't think you can do anything but obey," replied Jack. "Undoubtedly the Great White Chief is lord of the land. By the laws he has made you are bound to supply these people with rubber. It is your tax. If you resist it will mean ruin to yourself and your villages. How is the rubber to be paid for?"

"In brass rods."

"Well, let your men do their best. We will see if you get your due pay. My uncle will soon be back; he is a determined man, and if you are not properly treated he will take care that somebody hears of it."

Boloko scowled, then laughed, when Lepoko translated this answer to the chief. He swaggered away to his men, and the whole crowd were soon laughing heartily, every now and then making derisive gestures at the white men. With some difficulty Barney had got hold of Pat, whose barking had subsided into a rumbling growl. But for his restraining hand Barney knew well that the dog would have thrown prudence to the winds and set upon the strange negroes.

From that day Imbono's villagers began the collection of rubber. Boloko and his men seized as many huts as they required, and demanded regular and copious supplies of food for themselves and their hangers-on. Before twenty-four hours had passed Boloko, with half a dozen of his guards, strolled over to Jack's village, and looked in at the gateway of the stockade. Jack had already decided to adopt military precautions. Two of his best men were doing sentry-go at the gate. When Boloko saw them and their rifles he thought better of entering as he had purposed. He stood for some time taking stock of the tidy compound and the neat new huts around, and discussing with his men this unexpected discovery. Then with a malignant scowl he returned to Ilola.

For some days Jack saw no more of Boloko. He remained within his own stockade, thinking it would do the chief no good if he too openly showed friendship. Every day he put the men through their usual drill, never giving the least sign that he was aware of being closely observed by the forest guards. The drilling of Imbono's men had ceased; the adult villagers were now engaged in the collection of rubber.

From what Jack heard from his men, it soon became clear to him that Boloko was anxious to pick a quarrel with the chief. His motive, Jack guessed, was partly to show his authority, partly to flaunt his contempt of the friendship between Imbono and the white men. His design was to some extent kept in check by the knowledge that Jack had fifteen men well armed and trained, and the presence of the two white men, Inglesa too—he had a wholesome respect for the Inglesa—was in itself a considerable deterrent. But he began to find fault with the quality of the rubber brought in; declared that the villagers kept the best fish for themselves and gave him the worst; complained that his men were made ill by rotten manioc. Imbono took care that the details of these grievances were carried to Jack, who, however, held aloof, still feeling that interference on his part would do no good, while it would certainly aggravate the situation. When the Congo Free State entrusted the collection of its revenue to such subordinates as Boloko, commanding ruthless savages like the forest guards, there was nothing to be done.

One evening, after sunset, Lepoko came into Jack's hut to say that the chief desired to see him. Jack hurried out, and found Imbono in company with one of his villagers. He invited them into his hut, lighted a candle, and setting food and palm wine before them, inquired the object of their visit.

"Look, my brother!" said the chief, pointing to his companion.

The man turned, and showed three terrible gashes in his back. He lifted his right foot and removed a bandage; Jack saw that two of the toes were missing.

"You see, brother!" said Imbono. "Ifumi was eating caterpillars in his hut. The guard Bomolo saw him and came to him and said, 'Your rubber is short. You eat caterpillars instead of collecting rubber.' Ifumi said: 'No, my rubber is not short. There is my basket; you see it is full.' But Bomolo cut three gashes in his back, and struck off two of his toes with his knife."

"That is the truth, Ifumi?" asked Jack.

"It is true," replied the man.

"You did not provoke Bomolo?"

"No, I said to him only what the chief has told."

"You did right to come, Imbono," said Jack quietly. "Go back now: you had better not be seen here. I will send you a message in the morning."

The two men thanked him and went away, Ifumi limping as he walked, supported by the chief's arm. Jack called Barney and told him what had happened.

"It makes my blood boil, Barney. I hoped it would not come to this. Poor wretches—to be at the mercy of such savages! I can't stand by and see such things done. I'm sure my uncle would not wish me to. Yet what can I do? We could fight Boloko and his men, and beat them I hope; but goodness knows what that would lead to. Whatever little right they have to maim these poor people, we have none whatever to interfere, and we should have the regular forces of the State down on us for treason or rebellion or what not. But something must be done. I wish my uncle were here!"

"Well, sorr, I'm ready for anything. The quickest and easiest way would be to fight, for wid all this drill wan uv our men is worth two uv those blagyards."

"No, my uncle said we were to fight only in self-defence. I can't go against that. Couldn't we persuade Boloko to keep his men in order—bribe him, perhaps?"

"I'd sooner try to persuade the divil, sorr."

"Well, I shall try it. I'll invite him to a palaver. We'll give him a feast—open our last bottle of soda water; a good dinner improves a man's temper sometimes, you know, Barney."

"True, sorr; but it sometimes makes a man very impident. Will I send Lepoko over wid the invitation the morn's morn, sorr?"

"Yes, directly after breakfast. Say that I shall be pleased if Boloko will come to see me in my camp. He may bring his rifle and half a dozen of his men."