The Upper Ubangi.—Banzyville to Yakoma.
Banzyville has been built on a beautiful site at a double bend of the river. Opposite is the French Post of Mobaie and between them roars a rapid. The country on each side is hilly, while the soil is rocky, great boulders of granite and quartz lying about in isolated grandeur. We reach the Post on the morning of September 26th and are met by Captain Auita, an Italian, who is the Zone Chief here. The buildings are arranged on two sides of a square, the other two being formed by the river as it turns to the left, and the open space is covered with gravel which makes a welcome change from sand and clay while the house placed at our disposal looks particularly inviting after a week of tents and the small launch. Everything is wet through and has to be spread out on the gravel to dry under nature's great fire. Unfortunately some of the skins, which perforce have been left in cases for a week, under water one minute and baked in the sun the next, have hopelessly rotted and have to be thrown away. Next morning we interviewed numbers of native Chiefs who were all very anxious to exchange lances and other curiosities for European clothes. All were content with «Bulamatadi,» although some grumbled at the necessity to find porters and paddlers.
This is evidently one of the most populous districts in the whole Congo, for on all sides, both at the river edge and on the hill tops, are large villages consisting of tent-shaped huts and «shimbeks,» or square open sheds, under which the natives sit and sleep most of the day. Besides rubber, great quantities of rice are grown here, the plantations extending parallel to the river for more than two miles. Here men, women, and children are at work and those near the road come forward, give a military salute and shake hands, a custom peculiar to this part, for hitherto the women have not saluted and only the chiefs offered the hand. Many of the people have thin lips and Semitic noses and most are well made. As usual, if one meets a husband and wife, the former strolls ahead with a spear or stick, while the latter follows carrying a baby riding on one of her hips, tied on by her wrap of cloth, and with a heavy load of wood or food-stuff on her head. We cross the river in the evening and dine with Captain Meilleur at Mobaie. The French villages are identical with those on the State side, but the natives are, if possible, still more idle.
Next morning much rubber is brought into Banzyville. Strings of natives, each with a little basket-full of this substance, march into the square and sit down in lines on the gravel. The baskets are then weighed on a yard arm and the weights entered in a book by Captain Auita until a record of the whole has been made when the chattering throng departs to a shed near by where five cooks have been hard at work preparing dinner for them. The natives here are paid in cloth at the rate of 50 or 60 centimes a kilogramme according to the quality of the rubber and although each man is supposed to supply only one kilogramme a month some of the villages here send in more than a ton in that time.
Mr. Fernaka, the second in command, arrived on the 28th after marching for thirty days in the interior over unexplored ground. He said it was mostly marsh land containing a few villages from which the inhabitants, seeing the white man approach with his soldiers, fled into the bush. At first indeed the natives are always fearful of the whites, but in a short time are willing to trade and soon become very friendly. The native, in fact, quickly acquires absolute confidence in Europeans and his fear at first is, obviously, only the fear of the unknown. It is rather amusing to see the children in villages where few white men have penetrated, run shrieking with terror to their mothers when a strange looking person, with a white face and clothes appears. At the sound of the launch whistle also many children run away. One of the soldiers, a sergeant of some years' standing who accompanied Mr. Fernaka on his arduous march, unfortunately contracted dysentery and arrived at Banzyville only to die. We attend the funeral, the absolute simplicity of the ceremony being very impressive. All the troops here, perhaps seventy or eighty marched with reversed arms to the cemetery after the buglers sounding the Last Post and lined up opposite the grave. The order was given to present arms, the coffin was lowered, each person present threw a handful of earth into the grave and all was over. Far into the night, however, one could hear the mournful dirge the soldiers were chanting for their dead comrade. Hunting here is difficult although game abounds, the grass being high enough to conceal antelopes and everything else except elephants. After a walk through rough country and water for six hours without success, I was glad to get into my hammock and was jogged back home by perspiring natives, who took turns to carry their burden and changed about every ten minutes. Altogether the hammock is not comfortable, and it is obviously useless hunting here until the grass is burnt. Next day, being very tired and stiff, I pass the time looking through Civilisation in Congoland again. Having now visited many of the places mentioned in that book, the difficulties which beset a writer who publishes a work on a country he has never seen, become very apparent. In fact, it gives no more idea of the condition of the Congo than a file of the Police News would convey an impression of English civilisation. When one has visited some hundreds of villages and seen perhaps a million of natives, most of whom seem cheerful and contented, one marvels indeed how such absolutely false reports of the condition of the country can have originated. On the other hand, it is impossible to travel several thousands of miles in the Congo—especially in the unfrequented parts—without constantly wondering what is the extraordinary power which enables a few hundred white men, not only to govern as many million blacks, but to open up and develop a country as large as the continent of Europe, which a few years ago was absolutely unknown.
We can dismiss at once the idea that the native is suppressed by military despotism, for the Posts are isolated and the number of troops in them merely sufficient to guard property and stores, that is to say, to fulfil the duties of policemen in England. At any moment the thousands of natives who live in or near the Posts, could overwhelm these small forces long before help could arrive from the next Government Station, in many cases a week's journey distant. The fact that they do not do so, is at least negative evidence that the white men do not ill treat the people. There is however, much positive evidence that the native has, not only a great respect, but also an affection for his new rulers, and it is not difficult to understand the reason, when we compare his fate before the advent of the Europeans with his condition at present.
In each village was a Chief or Chiefs, freemen and slaves who passed their lives hunting and fighting other tribes. The sole property of the Chiefs and freemen were their huts, canoes, and slaves, and the rude instruments they used in war and hunting. The unfortunate slaves were bought and sold, captured in war and were often killed and eaten. One slave was worth so many goats, lances, or knives, and one large canoe would buy several women. Legislation rested with the Chiefs and trial by ordeal was common, but always so arranged that the result could be controlled by the judge. This is not the place however, to describe these interesting, if horrible practices.
Now at present the people are rich beyond the wildest dreams of their ancestors for the value of the property of the great Chiefs has greatly increased, since they have dealt with Europeans. Again the Chief of a small village containing 1000 men supplies 1000 kilogrammes of rubber each month to the State for 50 centimes a kilo. To collect this amount takes two or three days; each year therefore the village receives £240 for collecting a substance of no value at all to the natives whose daily routine in the meantime is scarcely affected at all. The natives used ivory chiefly to make war horns, but some of the Chiefs had so much that they constructed fences of fine points round their mud huts little thinking that in the white man's country, those useless tusks would be worth a small mountain of salt. Now they exchange them for clothes, cloth, salt, and other useful commodities. The lucky owner of a canoe, it is true, can no longer buy three or four slaves with it, but he can use it to transport produce or to catch fish, for which he is well paid. Again compare the lot of the slave in the past with his present condition. He was liable to the most terrible fate at any moment; now he can enter the army, work in the plantations or remain safely in his village and do a few hours' work each month. There is however, another force acting which we should hardly expect would affect the mind of a savage. He is greatly influenced by a desire to ascend the social ladder at the summit of which, is of course, the white man, and anyone having direct dealings with him, at once knows himself to be superior to the naked cannibal of the forest. The servant, or «boy,» of the white man, holds a high rank and considers himself to be quite another species of man than his cousin, who is still uncivilised. So also the soldiers and workers in the plantations, who come into daily contact with the officials. All the most intelligent and ambitious natives are thus drawn away from their primitive condition of life and become attached to their masters, who give them cloth to wear and beads with which to beautify themselves. The most important Chiefs are as anxious indeed to appear like Europeans, as a prosperous native of Sierra Leone, is to wear patent boots and carry a silk umbrella. There is one near here named Bayer, a young man of much intelligence and business capacity, who has built himself a brick house, dresses like a European, and is a proud man when he is asked to smoke a cigar on the verandah of the mess. The Chiefs are, however, never asked to eat with the Europeans, a distinction which is both necessary and wise.
YOUNG SANGO GIRLS AT BANZYVILLE.
It daily becomes more and more obvious that the white man is greatly respected and that his word is absolutely trusted. What he says is true and what he promises, he does. The native appears to respect these characteristics perhaps all the more because he is so lamentably deficient in them himself.
It is indeed the respect caused by moral not physical force which enables a few Europeans to govern this great country with success, and permits one or two white men to live securely with a few soldiers in an isolated Post surrounded by thousands of natives most of whom are savage cannibals.
There are, however, many difficulties yet to be surmounted, and among them is the arrangement of a satisfactory currency. This was brought home forcibly on October 1st when according to weekly custom, the people in the villages around brought in food for the Post. Many women appeared with large bunches of bananas for which as a rule, they are paid by beads. In this prosperous part the heads of the women are already fully adorned with beads and most of their household ornaments also, so they demanded cloth instead.
The question of the currency is a very difficult one. There is the danger of flooding the banks of the Congo with mitakos, and the banks of the Ubangi with beads. In other words these articles which function as money are not used as rapidly as they are supplied, and a lady whose limbs are already weighted with brass rings and whose head is heavy with beads, wishes for some other payment. There is a warehouse at each of the State Posts in which cloth, clothes, beads, salt, and many other commodities likely to be of use to the natives are kept, but it is manifestly impossible to give as wages to each individual the particular object he desires at the particular moment. The objection to beads and mitakos, does not apply to salt and cloth, the former being at once consumed, and the latter being worn out in course of time. Nevertheless it is not well to have a currency which is continually being formed only to be destroyed. The money currency, already existing in the Lower Congo will, however, in course of time be extended, but there are still many difficulties in the way. Francs and centimes will of course be of no use to the natives, unless Stores are still kept at the State Posts at which they can buy whatever they wish. This great question is, however, occupying the careful attention of the Government, and will no doubt be settled as satisfactorily as many others have been which were equally difficult.
Sunday is always an interesting day in a State Post, for the Chiefs with many followers come in for a friendly chat and to ask advice. October 2nd was particularly exciting for a new Chief had been elected in a village near Banzyville, and great rejoicings consequently followed. Singing, shouting, dancing and a general hubbub, went on from morning to night, and if the desire to make a noise is any criterion of happiness, these people must be the happiest in the world. There are many forms of dances; sometimes each one shuffles his legs without moving more than a foot or two and then swings his arms, head and body solemnly backwards and forwards; sometimes a number will form a ring, and one after the other will leap into it and rapidly rotate themselves; but whatever the form, all seemed to be keenly excited and to enjoy it thoroughly.
The natives near the Ubangi have a very distinctive tatouage. It consists of five elevated knobs of skin which form a straight line continuing the line of the nose up the forehead. These are formed by making for each knob two parallel incisions in the skin about half an inch apart and lifting the flap between. A piece of ivory is then inserted under the flap and left in until the wound has healed, the result being a knob of skin elevated above the level of the rest of the surface. All the tatouage in the Congo consists in raising the skin in this manner, but in each district the design is different. Simple tatooing by pricking in colours does not appear to be practised at all.
Fishing here is very simple and very effective. Large baskets tapering to a point and open at the broad end are fixed by ropes, or rather by the strong vines which function as ropes here, just at the top of the rapids and the water rushes through with great force. The fish are carried into the baskets, but cannot pass through or return against the current, and are then simply speared and lifted out. They have firm, white flesh and are good eating.
On October 3rd the Chief of the Banzas comes to the Post to call. He is a fine, intelligent-looking man and rules his people, who are very numerous, admirably. In this part of the Congo, the chieftainship descends from father to son, but in some districts the succession passes through the family of the wife of the Chief.
Numerous petty Chiefs drop in to the Post at intervals during the day and are rather a nuisance, for they are always begging for clothes and offering lances and presents in exchange. They do not realise that one does not carry a superfluity of clothes when travelling, or that one or two lances are quite sufficient to keep as curios. Probably they think we are traders for we are not bulamatadi, and no one I believe, has ever ascended the Ubangi on a pleasure tour before. The newly-elected Chief was very anxious to be given a suit of clothes as he had none and wished to make an impression on his new subjects. He described with many gestures, that he was elected with much beating of drums, which indeed was only too true and said he always intended to remain a great friend of the State. After that, of course he had to be given some clothes. The system of giving «tips» indiscriminately is however, carried much too far in the State, and if it is not stopped, will soon prove to be a very heavy tax on the white man. Every native demands a tip on every possible occasion whether he has done a service or not, and if he has done some work and is only paid his due, is as discontented and abusive as a cabman who has only received his legal fare.
There are many native thieves all over the Congo—one of them actually penetrated into the house of Captain Auita at midday in bright sunshine and stole a spear and a native knife. He was however, soon caught and marched off to prison. Trials by ordeal used to be very common among the natives. A favourite method was to give a dose of strychnine to a fowl and if it died, the accused was guilty, but if it lived, he was innocent. The wretched fowl, feeling in any case very ill, walked about wondering at the excitement and followed by the complainant shouting «die, die, die, fowl» and the defendant shouting «live, live, live, fowl.» The strength of the solution was always arranged by the judge so the verdict was known to him beforehand. A curious instrument to take the place of a jury, is a nut through which a piece of fibre has been passed in such a way, that when it is held vertically, the nut slides up and down. By a curious twist of the fibre however, it is possible to prevent the nut falling. At the trial, the nut is raised to the top of the string and if it stays there, the accused is innocent, but if it falls, he is guilty. Here again, the judge can make the machine decide either way at his will.
Among the many objectionable insects of the Congo is the «jigger,» a kind of sand fly which burrows under the skin, usually of a toe, and deposits eggs in a sack there. Unless these are removed an abscess forms. The natives sit about calmly removing jiggers from each other's feet with needles, and show considerable skill in this small operation. It is necessary therefore never to move about with bare feet, for the boys carry them into every place.
Much ivory comes into the Post at intervals, the points sometimes weighing 70 or 80 lbs. each. The State preserves the elephant very strictly, and the export duty on tusks above 6 kilos in weight, is 21 frs. per kilo. Still it is not likely that the Congo will continue to yield such large quantities of ivory, for the elephant only bears one offspring in three years and the growth of the baby is very slow. There is a baby elephant here one year old. He stands about 4 feet, 6 inches high, and has no sign of tusks at present. He is fed on rice, milk and bananas and is a playful little fellow. A tame ape here fears the elephant very much and at his approach at once clings to the native who tends him or climbs over his shoulder, so as to place the boy's body always between himself and the elephant.
On Monday October 10th we prepare to continue our journey up river. We shall now require six or seven canoes, as they are not so large as the ones lower down and our crews, servants, escort and camp followers total up to nearly two hundred. Captain Auita sends a few State capitas with us and Captain Meilleur lends us some French soldiers belonging to the 1st Senegalese Tirailleurs, a splendid set of fellows, very smart in their khaki uniforms. We can, therefore, land with impunity on either side of the river, i.e. in the French or the State Congo, and be able to communicate with the Chiefs, for it will be rather difficult perhaps to feed so many people.
Next day we start amid the most terrific din. Each of the seven canoes carries one or two tom-toms and some have also native bells. All the capitas and most of the paddlers shout orders to each other which no one regards, even if they hear them, while the friends of the paddlers howl farewells from the beach. At length however, the baggage is arranged and the little fleet starts in single file, for each canoe hugs the bank. Before half an hour had elapsed my canoe struck a rock and stuck on it. Fortunately we were not travelling faster than two miles an hour, or a hole would have been made in the bottom. As it was, it was necessary for half the crew to go overboard, stand on the rock, and lift the canoe off. Never was a ship so speedily lightened, and in a few moments we were once more afloat.
The river now passes through a kind of gorge not more than half a mile wide and continues between hills clad with long grass but after an hour or two, it widens out again and the banks become low. The heat is great and the unceasing blows on the tom-tom within three feet of one's ears are very annoying, but if it is stopped, the crew no longer keep good time, and the boat, therefore, travels very slowly. The singing, on the other hand, is by no means unpleasant. One of the crew sings a solo, a kind of recitative, the words being an extempore criticism, as a rule, of the white passenger, and then the whole join in chorus in perfect harmony. The music is now wild and weird, now passionate and joyful, but always natural. There is nothing of the catch penny type of ditties, which become popular in England and America, in these savage African songs, nor are they in the least like Chinese or Indian music. The instruments are rudimentary; simple zithers, rattles, bells and a kind of guitar, but it is probable that all these, except the bells, have been introduced by the Europeans or Arabs.
On we creep slowly until we reach the island of Ya which belongs to the State. All the other islands, except Bamu, being no man's land. Here we land at a large village and while the boys are arranging the camp, we see that our party are all fed. The Chiefs are requested to provide food, and soon nearly two hundred women appear, each with a wooden vessel containing a ration of kwanga, palm oil, salad, bananas, plantains, fish, meat, or a general mixture. These they deposit on the ground and stand at attention each behind the meal she has prepared. The sergeants and capitas distribute the rations among the soldiers and paddlers, and at an order of the Chief, the whole crowd disappears into the huts. Then we eat our dinner, consisting of the usual chicken and eggs, have a game of two-handed bridge and turn in.
Suddenly shrieks are heard coming from a hut and we order the sentry to discover the cause. He soon appears with one of our paddlers, who states that another one stole his ration, and when he endeavoured to get it back, beat him severely. We order him therefore more food, and decide to investigate the case in the morning.
Next day after giving cloth to the Chiefs in payment for the food, we send for the youth who made so much noise in the night. A poleman now stated that the boy had stolen his loin cloth and that therefore he had beaten him. This story contradicted the other and further native evidence complicated the story still more, so after explaining to the poleman that he had no right to beat the boy, even if he were one of his crew, and that if such a thing occurred again, he would be severely punished, we decided to take no further action.
One of the French soldiers now appeared and told a romantic story. He had found a long lost blood sister in the village, the mutual recognition being confirmed by the tribal marks. Both had been sold as slaves when children; he had drifted into the French native army and she had married one of the subjects of the State. Now she wished to leave her husband and go away with her brother, who was willing to pay compensation for her loss if necessary. As this seemed to raise some delicate questions, we refused to take any step, except to report the matter to the proper authorities.
After these delays, we started up the river, lined on both sides by thickly populated villages. About midday an excited crowd stopped us at one of these and asked for our help. As everyone shouted at once and probably no one told the truth, it was difficult to discover what was the matter, but some women were missing from the French Congo and an elephant from the State, and the natives on each bank wished the white men to punish those on the other. As private travellers, of course we could take no action, even if we had wished, and continued on our way already two or three hours late. At length at 6 p.m., Zinga is reached, a large village with a fine plantation, and here we camp.
Just above the village the rapids are so strong that it is dangerous to take the canoes up charged, and it is necessary to carry all the baggage for about three miles across country until smooth water is reached again. The capitas wished to attempt the ascent with the canoes full, for the native dislikes carrying, more than anything else. We explain that if it is necessary for the white men, who can swim, to walk, how much more necessary is it to carry the baggage, which would at once sink if the canoes capsized. However, this did not convince them and Europeans who have had accidents on the river say, that although the whole crew, who all swim like fishes, go to the assistance of the white man when a canoe capsizes, not one will take the trouble to rescue the baggage. Probably the native, whose personal property is limited to a loin cloth, thinks all other possessions are useless vanities and not worth troubling about. The view here is very beautiful, the river taking a double bend between hills which are well wooded and traversed by mountain torrents of clear water hastening to join the main stream roaring in its rocky bed below. Numerous pintades are usually found here, the finest game bird for eating in the whole of Africa, and I go ahead of the bearers to search for them, but see nothing of interest.
THE STATE POST AT DJABIR.
By 8 a.m. the canoes have all passed the rapids, and are charged again, so once more we make a start. Soon another rapid is reached which it is impossible to negotiate with the paddles. Some of the crew therefore, go overboard and standing on the rocks up to their waists in water, literally lift the boat up foot by foot until the top is reached. After this the river widens again and the current is not so strong. One of the canoes is now reserved as a kitchen and carries the goats, chickens and other food. It is interesting to watch Luembo sitting smoking his pipe over the fire as he cooks the lunch. Nothing disturbs his calm serenity and he goes on philosophically making soup even in the roughest water. When lunch is ready we stop by the bank, the kitchen comes alongside and the hot, strong soup is very acceptable, for it is impossible to eat much in the heat of the day.
At night time we decide to stop at the mouth of the Koto river, where is a post of the Trading Company of that name, and the two agents there kindly extend hospitality to us. Some of the natives here show well marked Semitic features and a few, oddly enough, have eyes shaped like the Chinese. They are all ready to bring rations for the paddlers and accept payment without comment. Indeed, the native never says «thank you,» but as he speedily lets you know when he is dissatisfied, silence obviously means contentment. The Company has a rubber plantation and a well kept farm with cows, pigs and sheep which live healthily here.
The Koto river is almost as large as the continuation of the Ubangi and rises far away up north. Passing it we continue ascending between banks, on which villages are practically continuous the whole way until we reach Gumba, a large village on the French side with a hospitable Chief and a mud guest house. In this we store the baggage and arrange to sleep on the verandah which has fortunately a water-tight, roof for the almost daily tornado happened to be of an unusually violent description. The lightning is practically continuous and of a vivid, blinding green colour; the thunder sounds as if whole streets have been struck and knocked down, while the rain descends like the stream of a shower bath.
The Chief's house in this village is oblong, but at the two ends of the roof, spire-like tops are affixed, similar to those on the rest of the huts in the village. They are not ornamental nor useful, but interesting as marking a native characteristic on a house copied from those in the Government Posts.
Next morning it was still raining hard, so we waited in the dry without anxiety, as we knew the journey to Yakoma would only take five or six hours, but about 10 a.m. having emptied the canoes, which were full of water, we arranged the baggage and made a start. Village succeeded village, in which were numerous people elaborately decorated with beads and paint, but not otherwise covered. All the Chiefs were well disposed and presented eggs or chicken, and took the cloth or salt offered in return without grumbling. About midday we reached the commencement of the Yakoma village, which extends for some miles along the bank. Most of the crew were evidently well known here and several lived in the village. Their well-meaning friends therefore, jumped on to the canoes as they passed or swam out to them and took the paddles and poles from their tired comrades. With a greatly augmented company, with the canoes dangerously deep in the water, with tom-toms beating, bells ringing, bugles sounding and people shouting, we arrived at Yakoma about 5 p.m. on October 15th thus completing a voyage along the whole length of the Ubangi river.