Yakoma to Djabir.
Yakoma is built on the banks of the Uele just before it joins with the Bomu to form the Ubangi. The voyage up that river from its entrance into the Congo to its source here occupied seven weeks of which half the time, however, was spent in State Posts. Canoe travelling is terribly tiring, although one merely sits still in a hammock chair all day, and it has not been by any means comfortable camping in the forest during or after the daily tornado. Still the trip has been very interesting for this is one of the least known parts of the world and the people are probably the least civilised.
This experience brought home the fact with something like a shock that human nature is much the same everywhere and that if the savage leads the life practically of an animal, he is at the same time not very much unlike modern civilised man. He does not wear clothes, but he is very vain and adorns himself with beads and bangles, his hair dressing requiring hours of patient labour. He is often as pleased at being photographed as a young fashionable beauty and, if a warrior, is as proud of the paint which shows he has killed some one in battle, as a soldier is of his medals. He is frankly commercial in his dealings and as anxious to say what he thinks will please his guest as the most tactful of society's hostesses. He is as keen to win in a canoe race as any undergrad in his college boat and is a genuine and true sportsman. He is very jealous as a husband and devoted as a father, characteristics common both to animals and to the most intellectual of men. He is, as a Chief, by no means hard on his subjects although his punishments are barbarous and his sense of justice not greatly developed. He eats human flesh but not the diseased livers of geese and he prefers his meat decomposing as some like their game. He takes no more thought for the morrow than many civilised people who live from hand to mouth without considering the future and finally he sees the world from his point of view and has little desire to discuss that of others. Mr. Van Luttens the Chef du Poste kindly meets us and places a house at our disposal. We then read our mail, the first news from home since July, and glance through the newspapers. The country around Yakoma is flat and as there is no sign of forest, the plantation consists of rubber bushes only. Much rice is also grown here and at one time a large amount of coffee was raised from plants brought from Liberia but these have since died. The native coffee, however, does well and is certainly as good as any in the world, so it seems to be wiser to cultivate this and to leave foreign varieties alone.
This is one of the very few places in the Congo where the cows give more milk than is required by their calves, and where butter can be made. The farm is well stocked with horses and cattle for breeding purposes which function they fulfil very well, the foals and calves looking strong and healthy. All the Chiefs in the neighbourhood come and call upon us. They are all very rich, powerful and loyal in this district and delight in wearing European clothes or uniforms. One of them was dressed in an old naval uniform with an antique sword and another as a captain in the State service although he had no right to wear the uniform of the Force Publique at all. Just opposite Yakoma on the opposite bank of the Uele is a village for retired soldiers where they have their own gardens and plantations and live a life of ease but are not pensioned. The term of service is for three or seven years with option of signing for another three years after the long period with increased pay and another three years if desired after that. It is not at all uncommon to find sergeants who have served ten or twelve years and they are always very responsible men.
As usual the people offer us many native articles in return for cloth and we add to our already large collection.
As there is no big game near at hand I decide to make a collection of small birds, of which there are very many here, with most beautiful plumage. Unfortunately I have no smaller shot than 5-1/2 and it is difficult to avoid damaging the smaller varieties. However, by firing with the full choke barrel at about fifty yards two or three pellets almost always hit even the smallest birds. A very good method of preserving them is to inject formol into the bodies which at once stiffen out and become rigid in any position they are placed. Birds can thus be set with the wings extended in a flying position or as if roosting, the effect being much prettier than any which can be obtained by stuffing. If is however, necessary to arrange them and inject very soon after they are dead for if rigor mortis once sets in, it is impossible to alter the position assumed by the head and wings. There were great numbers of beautiful birds in the plantation and it was easy to obtain over a dozen different specimens in less than an hour[3]. Red-legged partridges are also found here in the rice, but as in Europe this variety will not rise and one may walk all day hearing the familiar call on all sides and only obtain one or two shots.
On October 19th I had my first attack of fever, which was not severe and soon yielded to phenacetin. It was however, rather a disappointment for I had taken five grains of quinine regularly every day since arriving in the Congo. The fever ran the same course that it used to do in India ten years ago but as it only once appeared in England during that period, I hoped it had gone for ever. Hundreds of mosquitoes hummed around with the ambitious idea presumably of carrying the germs to some other unfortunate.
THE RIVER NEAR BANZYVILLE.
As we shall now leave the French frontier and travel altogether in State territory we send the Senegalese escort down the river back to their station at Mobaie. The sergeant who was in charge was a most responsible man and was evidently held in great respect by the Chiefs of the French villages through which we passed. One day a Chief was greatly disturbed because two men from his village had migrated into State territory. Although this is against the law it is apparently not a very unusual occurrence. Generally these emigrants have committed some crime and are fleeing from justice. One Chief, however, at Banzyville stated he had left the State territory because he objected to working rubber and had returned because he objected still more to paying the tax in the French Congo. It is impossible indeed to say which side gains by this emigration but it is very evident that it is not altogether one-sided and not great enough to affect seriously the size of the population of either the French or Free State Congo.
In Yakoma the people are paid chiefly by beads and salt and it is interesting to watch the long string of workers filing to the office of the Chef du Poste on Saturday, each one carrying a plate, a tin can or some other receptacle in which to receive his wages.
On October 22nd we decide to pack up and move on. The skins of the larger birds the toucans, razor-bills and serpent birds are keeping very badly but those of the monkeys, leopards and antelopes are in better condition. It is however, doubtful if they will last, for to preserve them it is necessary to hang them out in the sun every day which is obviously impossible when travelling. As a small native war is in progress higher up the Uele, Mr. Van Luttens kindly arranges to accompany us for the first three days in order to ensure that relays of paddlers shall be forthcoming for many of those gentlemen have forsaken the wooden blade for the iron lance. We are therefore a large party on October 23rd when we leave Yakoma in a drizzling rain, the remains of the usual nightly tornado. Although the paddlers wear no clothes and do not hesitate to jump into the water at any moment it is curious that they dislike rain very much and never work so well as when a hot sun is shining. The least diminution of temperature indeed affects them very much and they sit drowsily over the fire hugging themselves, being aroused to action only with difficulty. We number now about two hundred including the thirty soldiers and armed capitas, but as the current is not very strong we make good headway through somewhat flat and uninteresting country until we arrive at Prekissa, a large village on the north bank of the Uele.
Here we were received by the Chief of the Abira tribe, a great potentate who sat in a long hammock chair surrounded by courtiers and ministers squatting on the ground and holding spears of state on each side of him. Having welcomed us he escorted us through the village which is of great extent and well arranged. Opposite his square hut or palace is the Guard House in which are a few soldiers armed with cap-guns for he has some independent authority and the power of life and death in certain limited cases. Behind the palace are many rows of round huts close together. Not a soul is visible or a sound heard for these are the quarters of the wives of the Chief and except the official lady who acts as legal queen none are presented to the white men. The present Chief is a keen commercial man and understands the advantage of being on good terms with the Slate for he has a large rubber plantation and also works metals. The blast furnace is most interesting. It is simply a pit about two feet wide and deep formed by banking up clay and earth for several feet around which has been dried by the great heat of the furnace into a hard stony substance. Indeed at first sight the pit looks like a hole dug in solid rock. In it is placed iron stone and wood charcoal which is lighted and a blast made by several pairs of bellows formed of antelope skins. The molten metal is not run off but remains with the slag in the pit until it is cool when the latter is chipped away and the shapeless mass of iron is ready to be worked into spears and lances by the blacksmiths. Probably this method is a very ancient one indeed, and it is curious that it should resemble so closely the modern Bessemer process for making steel. Having walked through the village we return to our camp on the river bank and the Chief presents spears. He then proceeds to ask for anything he takes a fancy to in return. We had already given him cloth much more valuable than his lances when he suddenly demanded tobacco. I gave him the contents of my pouch and he then asked for that also. He next asked me to give him my jacket and finally wished to buy my cap for two ivory finger rings. To receive a present from a Congo chief is thus a very expensive honour. He then sat down and smoked while we eat, for it is contrary to custom to ask a native to dine at the same table as a white man.
We start again next morning at 6 a.m. The banks of the river are now assuming an equatorial appearance for we are in the third degree of latitude and palms grow in great profusion but the country is flat and uninteresting. About midday we land at Gembele, a large village with an extensive plantation. The Chief is a young, good-looking man with refined European features and a very gentlemanly manner. He owns a large island, many iron and copper mines and is very wealthy. When one was introduced to him he pointed with pride to the State medal he was wearing round his neck, a medal which is given to all Chiefs of whose election or succession the Government approves. An important feature of this village is a round enclosure built of trunks of trees and roofed with leaves which serves as a Chamber of State wherein discussions take place and justice is administered. Gembele only succeeded his father a year ago and among other responsibilities he has to take care of numerous wives, step mothers and aunts, the legacies of his father and uncles. They seem, however, to be well-disciplined for they were sunning themselves when we suddenly appeared round a corner but at a wave of the hand of the boy of the Chief, they all rushed for cover and not one turned round to try and catch a glimpse of the white men. Possibly they have peep-holes in the walls of their huts for it would be too much to expect them to have no feminine curiosity. Gembele is evidently respected by his people but he has a somewhat serious look as though he felt the cares of his position heavily. There is a strong rapid opposite the village so we allow the canoes to go up empty and enter them again above it. It is now intensely hot and progress is slow but we reach the village of Sembile before sundown and pitch our tents in a clearing. The huts here are still round and the people practically nude but the custom of wearing beads has disappeared and very few are painted.
There is a bright moon which acts here as a clock by night as the sun does by day. As the latter passes practically straight overhead it is astonishingly easy to tell the time within half an hour after a very little practice. It is more difficult to use the moon as the point of the hour-hand and requires some care. This, however, is the only means the sentry has of determining 5 a.m. when we wish to be roused for he could not read a watch.
We start again at daylight and ascend the river to Voro where we land with all baggage for the rapids here are so strong that it is necessary to walk for several miles. We therefore start in a procession of more than one hundred people along a narrow foot-path while the crews take up the empty canoes. The guide leads and I follow next, hoping to shoot any game that may exist in the neighbourhood before it is disturbed by the bearers. It is, however, speedily apparent that with the exception of birds it will not be possible to see any game at all for the grass is very thick and about eight feet high. After a time my gun weighs heavy so I give it to a bearer and a moment after two fine pheasants rise a few yards away. All around is evidence of game. Great tracts through the grass where the stately elephant has passed to drink at the river, spoor of buffalo and antelope at every water course and yet not a sign of life now for the sun is high up and a hundred bearers are yelling and singing close behind. After walking for about two hours we reach forest and enter its welcome shade. A small stream prattles cheerfully along under the trees and as the path several times passes through it we keep our feet comfortably cool. About 2 p.m. we reach a village beautifully situated on a slope in the midst of dense forest. This is protected on all sides by a strong stockade twelve feet high for leopards abound and when game is difficult to find do not hesitate to enter villages and carry off people. Here we halt for lunch and then on again through the forest full of cuckoo pheasants. These are not much more difficult to shoot than hand reared birds at home although they fly higher to clear the tall trees. They do not, however, appear to travel very quickly but this may be a delusion as it is difficult to judge distance in Africa. No other game birds come within range. Late in the afternoon we reach Bogosi, a large clean and well arranged village. The Chief is a pleasant fellow perfectly willing to sell us food for our party; and monkeys, tortoises or anything else we may desire for ourselves. Here we change all our paddlers the present ones going back to their villages. As the tribe is at war with one higher up the river, Mr. Van Luttens thought it might be difficult to obtain paddlers here and so came himself. With his aid, however, the difficulty vanished for he arranged with the Chief that the paddlers who took us to Djabir should not be called upon to do any more work for the State for nine months. That is to say that the enforced forty hours a month would work out at six or seven days paddling in nine months and as each man was liberally paid in cloth no one could possibly say that he was used hardly. Having bathed in the swiftly running river we dined in the enclosure which did duty as the Council Chamber and then thoroughly tired turned in early.
It was not until 9 a.m. in the morning that we could make a start for all the baggage had to be fitted into the canoes and the paddlers arranged in their places. The first day with new crews is always a trouble but this is never repeated for the native has a good memory and every bale, bag, gun and even small articles like books are taken from the canoes each evening and put back in identically the same place in the morning. This is remarkable when one thinks that some hundreds of separate articles have to be placed in one of seven or eight different canoes in one particular place.
The river is heavily in flood for this is the end of the wet season and the current is very strong indeed. Soon we come to the first rapid and one of the men drops his pole overboard at the critical moment. The other two, however, hold the canoe up by pressing against the rocks while the water whirls past within an inch of the edge of the little craft. At a word from the capita one of the paddlers jumps into the rushing water, rescues the pole and lands safely with it on the bank, fifty or sixty yards below. All the Sangos swim like salmon but cannot of course leap up rapids. They however, swim so powerfully that they steer clear of the rocks and reach the side even in the swiftest current. On we go slowly struggling up rapid after rapid and when it is impossible to paddle and pole the canoes against the stream the crew stand on the rocks and lift them up. Sometimes the drop is three feet at one spot and it is perfectly marvellous how these men can thus stand waist deep in the water. Naturally we ship a good deal of water which wets everything through and through but the crew take this as a matter of course and bale it out at intervals while the boys take care the firearms are not injured. The amount of actual work the crew do must be enormous yet they never seem fatigued and sing as lustily at the end as at the beginning of the day. At length we pass the island of Mutemu and seek for a place for a camp. There is not much choice for the forest is very dense here and it is necessary in every place to clear the undergrowth before the tents can be pitched. Then fires are lighted and all are soon asleep.
We start again at daybreak and at once commence the fight with the rapids. Soon after a Chief appears in a canoe, and having explained that he is at war with a neighbouring tribe hopes it will not inconvenience the white man. On being asked why he is fighting he states that he has lost two women and thinks they have been stolen. I then told him war was a mistake and I hoped he would make peace as soon as possible, at which he looked a little surprised and answered that he expected to be successful and capture several women as well as men.
The navigation of the Uele at this part of its course is so difficult that there are very few villages on its banks for the native who lives near a stream hardly ever walks and he will not settle unless he can travel by canoe. For this reason there is often no pathway at all between villages only a mile or two apart on the river bank. The few people there are have probably never seen a white man for as far as one can ascertain no one has been up here for ten years. However, where there is a village the Chief comes on board and presents a chicken. About midday the kitchen canoe paddles by with fire alight and pot boiling. Soon after Chikaia shouts: Le cuisinier est tombé dans l'eau, and a little way ahead is seen a canoe apparently upside down close to the bank and twelve or fifteen black heads bobbing up and down in the water. Mountmorres is just ahead in his canoe and easily within reach but to my surprise his paddlers suddenly turn away from the bank and make for mid-stream evidently straining every muscle. Turning round I order my crew to pull rapidly to the rescue but to my disgust they also turn into mid-stream and take no notice of my command. Having asked Chikaia the meaning of this he replied: La petite bête qui mange l'homme. Chikaia's knowledge of zoology and French being somewhat limited every animal is for him either a «petite» or a «grande bête». The information was therefore not very valuable for it was impossible to imagine what small beast was in the habit of eating people. Thinking, however, of a crocodile I took my rifle but Chikaia laughed and said: «Non, non, la petite.» By this time we were well out in mid-stream opposite the kitchen canoe which—to add to the mystery—was not upset at all. The cook, the crew, the goats and the fowls were all, however, in the water. No danger was apparent for the crew were swimming at their ease and hoisting the live stock back into the canoe. It is useless being astonished at anything in Africa and there was obviously nothing to do but sit still while the crew raced along as fast as they could paddle. In a few minutes they pulled into the bank and there we waited for the kitchen which presently appeared with the cook reclining in the arms of one of the crew and moaning: «Je mart, je mort.» After a rapid examination, however, I could find nothing at all the matter. At length we discover the truth. His canoe had run into a large hornet's nest hanging from the branch of a tree and he had been stung in the head. To avoid further damage, he and the whole of the crew not only jumped into the water themselves but threw all the live stock overboard as well, for the natives believe that the sting of this insect kills and they fear it more than an encounter with a wild beast. The cook was therefore in a highly hysterical condition and no doubt in considerable pain also although no mark of a sting could be discovered, amidst his thick curly black hair. Still I took him into my canoe, gave him whisky internally and bathed his head with permanganate of potassium and he was quite well next day. After this delay we struggle on until just before dark we reached the worst rapid on the river the Kandoko Falls, up which the canoes are lifted inch by inch. Everything was already wet so the fact that a terrific tornado burst before we could pitch the tents added but little to our discomfort.
On again at daybreak and after one or two ineffectual attempts to negotiate the last strong rapid on this piece of the river we conquer it and reach smooth water. In the course of the morning a canoe intercepts us in which is a native dressed as a State capita and armed with a gun. He says he has been sent by a white man to tell us not to sound our tom-toms as it will attract the hostile tribe and they will attack our camp. We ask for the letter for white men never send verbal messages by natives and when it was not forthcoming became suspicious that our visitor was spying our strength. We told him that we were peaceful travellers, that we should beat our tom-toms as much as we liked and camp where we wished and that if the tribe attacked us we should defend ourselves. Probably our rifles made an impression for we were not molested at all during the day and at night camped in the village of the hostile tribe. Our paddlers indeed fraternised with the enemy, against whom they would have been fighting if they had not been employed by us.
THE SULTAN OF DJABIR.
The usual tornado burst in the night and we did not make a start until 7 a.m. when we continued up the river and passed several villages before 2 p.m. when Djabir came in sight. The view of the town from the distance is very pretty indeed. In the centre is an old fort with four towers now partly demolished and on each side the houses of the officials stretching along the river bank. Here we land two hours afterwards and feel that at last we shall have a night's rest without fear that our habitation will be blown away or soaked with water.