[to be continued.]
[EXPLORING NEW-FOUND RIVERS.]
BY C. C. ADAMS
ome of the leading African explorers have never written a book. They have had other work besides exploration, and have been too busy to write long accounts of their discoveries. A single copy of this paper would hold all that Alexander Delcommune, who has travelled further in the Congo basin than any other explorer, has written about his work. Captain Van Gele, who has had remarkable experiences, and who took the last step in the solution of a great geographical conundrum—the destination of Schweinfurth's "Welle" river—has written very little. But we know what all these men have done. Every new map of Africa that is worth anything differs from all its predecessors, because it contains later and better information. These men have done much to change and improve the maps, and their short reports to geographical and other societies have been very interesting and important.
Foremost among these men is George Grenfell, of the Baptist Missionary Society of England, whose travels in 1884-5 gave us our first knowledge of six of the largest Congo tributaries. Many thousands of black people in the middle Congo basin first learned of the white man when they saw Grenfell pushing up their rivers on his little steamboat. He travelled for over three thousand miles on the Congo and its tributaries, and always as a man of peace, winning the confidence of barbarous tribes by patience and kindness. He never shed a drop of blood nor laid violent hands upon a native. How much better was this policy than to respond with violence to the mistrust and opposition of these frightened and savage peoples.
Mr. Grenfell's steel steamer Peace was built in England, and when she was shipped to the Congo all her plates and pieces of machinery were taken apart and packed into eight hundred loads; for every bit of the vessel had to be carried on the backs of men around two hundred and thirty-five miles of cataracts to Stanley Pool, where the long caravan of black porters arrived without losing a load. Another Congo steamboat was not so fortunate, for its brass fittings were stolen while in transit, and transformed into neck ornaments for native women. It has been said that a pioneer in Africa should be able to build a boat or a house without a nail or a tool. Grenfell seems to be that kind of man. The engineers who had been sent to put the Peace together died of fever; so Grenfell trained natives in the art of riveting, and with their aid he put the eight hundred pieces together. When the Peace was launched there was not a leak. All of the parts had been placed where they belonged. She was seventy feet long, and under her wooden roof were a cabin and cook-room, with an engine amidships. Her twin screws drove her ten miles an hour, and in all respects she was well fitted for her work. So in 1884 Mr. Grenfell and his wife, with a crew of fifteen natives, set out to find favorable points for mission stations on the great unexplored tributaries that stretch away hundreds of miles north and south of the middle Congo.
We cannot describe here all the discoveries Grenfell made. He greatly changed our notions of the extent, direction, and importance of quite a number of rivers, chief among which were the Mobangi and Mongala north of the Congo, and the Bussera, Chuapa, Lulonga, and Lomami south of it. You may easily find these large rivers on the map, and they are Grenfell's greatest contribution to our knowledge of Africa.
Most of the tribes whom Grenfell met live away from the Congo, and had never heard of the world outside the districts they occupy. We can scarcely imagine the astonishment and even terror which the white man and his puffing river monster inspired as the Peace would suddenly round some river bend and pause at a village front. The natives did not always flee nor offer hostilities at once. Many stood motionless, as if rooted to the spot, with straining eyes, and hands over their wide-open mouths, a common practice among savages when they are greatly surprised. If one fled he was speedily followed by others. If one gathered his wits and began to poise his spear or bend his bow, others followed his example. Once a woman fell in spasms to the ground. One day, on the Ruki River, Grenfell surprised a party of fifty fisherwomen, who took one look at the wheezing Peace, and then sprang shrieking out of their boats, and swam, as a dog does, to the shore. A large crowd of men on an island in the Bussera saw the apparition, and rushed pell-mell for their boats, forgetting their paddles in their fright; and so, with frantic energy, they used their hands as paddles in their flight to the mainland. Grenfell was accompanied by the German explorer Von François on his ascent of some of the southern rivers, and sometimes the natives thought their white visitors came from the spirit world, and called to them, "We fear you because you are white ghosts."
GRENFELL AS HE SOMETIMES TRAVELLED WHEN ON SHORE.
On all such occasions there was nothing to do except to wait for the excitement to subside, very quietly displaying presents of beads, wire, and cloth, while anchored at a distance from the shore. Grenfell's interpreter would strain his lungs with shouting words of soothing and friendship. Sometimes he would cry "Ba, ba, ba," to indicate that he wished to buy goats, and he would exhibit trade goods to pay for them. On some island, in the night, while alarm drums were arousing the country for miles along the banks, Grenfell would kindle fires, and in the bright light display his presents to the best advantage. Once while a howling crowd were bending their bows, the Peace was sent at full speed within a rod of the shore, and a cloth full of beads and cowrie-shells was thrown among them. Before the astounded natives had recovered their wits, the Peace was again in mid-stream beyond the reach of arrows. This set the savages thinking, and they listened quietly when Grenfell shouted that he wished to buy fire-wood. They filled a canoe with wood, and tying to the boat a long rope made of vines, let it drift down stream to the steamer, where the canoe was emptied, and the beads which the explorers placed in it were hauled back to the shore. The ice was broken now, weapons were laid aside, and soon a dozen canoes pushed out from the shore with natives having wood or provisions to sell.
A DWARF OF THE CONGO FOREST.
All of Grenfell's blandishments failed sometimes, and he was fiercely attacked. Only one instance is recorded where he fired a gun, and then it contained only a blank cartridge. He proved the efficacy of unusual noises, for the explosion, reverberating along the forest-lined shores, sent the enemy scampering. A blast from the whistle was sometimes enough to turn pursuing canoes about face. The explorer did everything possible to protect his men, and not one of them was hurt. Wire netting completely covered the open sides of the vessel and caught many flying missiles, while others lodged in the wooden roof. A few natives in one village on the Bussera appeared to have seen or heard of guns, for Grenfell was much surprised when the very friendly people told him that they had intended to attack the vessel until they saw his firearms. One village that had accepted the explorer's presents on his ascent of the river, attacked him on his return because the river had risen meantime, a most uncommon thing at that season, they said, and ample proof that the white man was bad. The explorer found himself in a predicament on the last day he spent upon the Bussera, but Mrs. Grenfell helped him out of it. While the Peace was in shore, a party of warriors rushed to the bank with their weapons all ready to launch. In a moment Mrs. Grenfell had thrown among them a double handful of beads, and while the crowd were scrambling and fighting for the prizes, the Peace reached a safe distance. Usually an hour or two of waiting and conciliatory talk turned foes into friends. Sometimes, however, the alarm drums would notify the villages for miles around that an enemy was coming; and when Grenfell saw a throng of armed warriors waiting for him, and not a woman on the ground, he knew that trouble was brewing.
THE "PEACE" SURPRISING A PARTY OF FISHERWOMEN ON THE RUKI RIVER.
Geographical information imparted by the natives was apt to be wholly incorrect. They had ready answers for all questions, but if they imagined Grenfell would like to hear of a lake a little inland, or five days more of navigation up the river, they would make replies which they thought would please him, regardless of truth. This is a widespread practice among savages. At the same time they were often eager to learn of his discoveries. They would ask him how many days' journey his vessel made above their village, and whether the natives he met dealt in ivory and slaves. Some tribes had not the slightest idea that ivory had any value, and thought it strange that any man should have occasion to buy wood. Some of them had no names for the rivers where they live. They were children of the earth, they said, and if he wished to know the names of the rivers he must ask the children of the water. The southern tributaries—Bussera, Chuapa, and Lulonga—are in the great belt of dense Congo forest, and in the upper reaches of the rivers the big branches form a complete roof over the streams, which are in deep shadow even on the brightest days; and in this roof Grenfell found some of his most persistent enemies. They were the little folks of Africa, the pygmies, who would clamber out on the branches overhanging the streams, and shoot their poisoned arrows into the wooden covering of the vessel.
It was Grenfell who gave us our first positive information of the many dwarfs who live in the forest south of the Congo, though about the same time other explorers discovered them further south. One evening a canoe drew up at some distance from the Peace, and when the interpreter asked the natives who they were they said they were Batwa. This is the name of the dwarfs living in the southern Congo forests, and Grenfell and Von François were overjoyed at the prospect of seeing them. It was now so dark that they could not determine what the canoemen looked like, but in the morning they found near by a cluster of huts inhabited by these little people, and then they knew they were in the land of the pygmies. Grenfell found many dwarfs on the Lomami, Chuapa, and Bussera rivers, and they proved to be the most troublesome and vindictive people with whom he had to deal. His black crew were badly frightened when they heard the dwarfs were near. All their lives they had been told that the dwarfs were most unpleasant people to meet. It was common report that they shot with poisoned arrows, permitted no one to live in their country, and excelled all warriors and hunters in skill with the bow and spear. We shall see later what Grenfell and other explorers have learned about these strange and interesting people, and also about the cannibals who are spread so widely over the Congo basin. Very little was known of the cannibals as long as explorers kept to the main river, but after Grenfell began his work along the tributaries the world soon came to know the appalling extent of this evil.
Nearly all the tribes discovered by Grenfell are cannibals. An interpreter whom he took with him from the Congo was in constant fear of being captured and eaten, and he would never venture ashore except in company with six or eight comrades: "You eat goats and hens," said some natives to Grenfell one day, "because you are rich and able to buy them; but we are poor, and have to eat men, whom we can get for nothing." Under the laws of the Congo State it is now a capital crime to eat human flesh. Wherever the influence of the white man extends, the practice is being discontinued, and some day this stigma upon human nature will disappear from all the parts of Africa where it has so long prevailed.
There are missionary stations now in some parts of the large regions that Grenfell traversed. His peaceful and friendly methods made it easy for other white men to go among the people he brought to light. The natives who sought to kill him are now glad to sell ivory and rubber to traders. His discoveries during fifteen months added about one thousand eight hundred miles to the known navigable waters of the Congo basin. No one except Stanley has surpassed him in the extent and value of his work among the waterways of the second largest river system in the world.
[AN HOUR IN BICYCLELAND.]
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF A PNEUMATIC CIRCUS.
BY HAYDEN CARRUTH.
I.
Kenneth had got his bicycle at last, and he was taking his first long ride on it. It was warm, and the road seemed to be all up hill. "If this road keeps on like this much longer," said Kenneth to himself, "I'll run into the moon. I guess papa was right when he said that bicycle-riding reminds him a good deal of work in its milder stages. However, I'd rather ride than work."
He went on a little farther, but the afternoon sun shone down hotter and hotter, and the road still seemed to have more uphill than a well-behaved road ought to have. After a while he came to a fine grove of trees. "I think I'll just turn in here and rest a few minutes, and then go back," said Kenneth. "Seems to me I ought to be able to coast about three-quarters of the way home—unless the road tilts the other way before I start, like a seesaw," he went on. He trundled his wheel into the grove out of sight of the road, stood it against a big tree, and lay down on the soft grass-covered ground in the shade.
"It seems to me," he mused, "that bicycles ought to be made so they would run themselves like—like—like horses. Then hills wouldn't make any difference." He was speaking very slowly, and half wondering if talking wasn't work too. "Then it wouldn't make any difference if the road did tilt up or—or—or turn sommersaults if it wanted to. Just think of a road ten miles long turning a sommersault." He laughed a little at the idea, but that was work too. "I—I wonder if bicycles couldn't be—be trained to—to—." It really was too hard work to talk. He hadn't noticed that another wheelman had come into the grove to rest, and left his bicycle by the same tree.
"Trained to do what?" said the other, who was enough bigger than Kenneth to be a young man. "To talk like a parrot, or to sit up and beg like a pug-dog?"
Kenneth laughed at the idea of a bicycle sitting up and hanging down its handle-bar and begging; and then he answered:
"Oh, no; just to go themselves, you know." The presence of the stranger seemed to revive him, so he sat up and looked at the other.
"Oh, shucks!" said the young man. "Trained to go themselves! Where did you come from?"
"Smithville," replied Kenneth.
"Thought so," answered the other. "You're in Bicycle-land now, where they are trained to go themselves. Come here!" he said, snapping his finger at his wheel, which rolled over and stopped by his side. "That's the way we have 'em trained here."
"Well, that's what I meant," returned Kenneth, not liking the lofty tone of the other very well. "That's precisely the way I am going to train mine." And he turned and snapped his fingers at his wheel, and it came toward him, though it wavered a good deal, and would have fallen if he hadn't caught it.
"That's very good," said the young man; "very good indeed. You have an extremely intelligent bicycle. Keep training it for a week; and it will go almost as well as mine."
"There aren't any pedals on yours," said Kenneth, as he looked at the other's wheel.
"Well, there aren't any pedals on a horse either, are there?" asked the young man, promptly. "Did you ever see a man riding a horse in Smithville, and pumping him along with pedals?"
"I forgot," said Kenneth. "I'll take them off of mine," and he reached down and did so. "What shall I do with them?"
"Oh, throw 'em in the ash-can," said the other, airily. "They're no good."
Kenneth didn't see any ash-can, so he tossed them behind some bushes, and began to give his bicycle practice at going alone about on the grass-plot. It learned rapidly, and he soon ventured to mount it, and after one or two tumbles it circled around, went ahead, and backed up very well indeed.
"Well, now, what shall we do?" asked the young man.
"I hardly know," answered Kenneth. "You're better acquainted with the country than I. You suggest something."
"I was on my way to the circus," said the other. "Suppose you come along. They say it's a very good show. It certainly has one great curiosity which I am anxious to see."
"What's that?" asked Kenneth.
"They have in this circus," answered the young man, speaking very slowly and impressively—"they have in a cage—a—live—horse!"
"Well, I don't—" began Kenneth; then he checked himself and went on, "I don't see where they got that."
"Captured it in the Smithville country at great expense and loss of life," replied the young man, proudly. "The Largest and most Ferocious Horse ever in the Captivity of Man. This Savage and Awe-inspiring Beast will daily Devour in Full View of the Breathless Audience a Peck of Oats and an Armful of Hay. At the Sight of his Food he Utters Blood-curdling Roars which bring Spasms of Fear to the Bravest. Don't miss this Chance of a Lifetime. I was just quoting from the bills," explained the young man hurriedly, as he lowered his voice again.
They then mounted their bicycles and rode away out of the grove and down a side road. The pedals being gone, Kenneth rested his feet on the coasters, as did his companion, and they sped along faster than he had ever ridden on the wheel before. It was, in fact, just like coasting down a long steep hill, but without the danger, as he soon came to have perfect confidence in the ability of his newly trained steed to keep upright.
"You see," said the young man, "that it's the simplest thing in the world to train a bicycle. Whoa!" he shouted, and his wheel began to stop. "Get up!" and it increased its speed again. "Yours doesn't know that yet, but it will soon learn. By-the-way," he continued, "they say a man actually goes into the cage with that horse at the circus. Don't fail to see Señior Jimjamdaza enter Fearlessly into the Cage of the Raging Bucephalus and Handle him as a Child might Handle a Bicycle. Remember, one Ticket admits to each and all of the Stupendous Wonders contained in this Gigantic Tentatorial Aggregation of— Oh, I beg pardon; those bills will keep running in my head," said the young man, just a little sheepishly.
"Oh, I don't mind," answered Kenneth; "only I think it's a good deal of a fuss to make over a horse. Why, I wouldn't be afraid to go into his cage myself."
"Now, see here," said the young man, "that won't do, you know. You can't fool me that way. You must think I'm green. The horse is the worst animal that ranges the Perilous and Deadly Jungle, spreading Terror and Destruction wherever he chances to show the Fiery Fury of his Face, and only Captured by our Agents after weeks of Superhuman Effort involving the Dreadful loss of Precious Life and the Sacrifice of Untold Treasure— There I go again, quoting those bills; but, anyhow, you see what sort of an animal the horse is. And still you pretend to say that you wouldn't be afraid to enter the cage with one!"
"Well, I wouldn't," insisted Kenneth. "Didn't you ever have horses in this country?"
"They became extinct ages ago," answered the young man. (Kenneth thought of the pictures of mastodons and such things which he had seen in his physical geography book at school.) "Ages ago," repeated the young man. "Sometimes we find remains of 'em. Only last week a man discovered some horse bones while digging the cellar for a new bicycle-factory."
They had been wheeling along pretty fast, and had made several turns. There were a great many other people on the road, mostly going in the same direction as they were, evidently also on their way to the circus. Nearly all of them were riding bicycles precisely as they were, though a few were in carriages driving bicycles, usually two side by side. Suddenly at a sharp turn in the road they came face to face with a long bill-board covered with immense colored pictures and letters as high as Kenneth. The young man stopped the moment he saw it, and said:
"There, see that! There's a true picture of the gentle beast you say you would like to go in with."
Kenneth looked, and saw a picture of an animal ten or twelve feet high, with a great mouth like a hippopotamus, wide open, showing rows of teeth six inches long. A lot of hunters and black natives were trying to get out of his way, but the biggest hunter had fallen, and the horse was about to come down upon him with his forward feet. The animal's eyes seemed to be flashing fire, and he had a mane like a lion.
"How long do you think you'd like to stay in a cage with an animal like that?" asked the young man, proudly. "Like to sit down with him and do your sums, perhaps? Or maybe you'd rather lie down on the floor of the cage and take a nap—eh?"
"I can't say about that sort of a horse," admitted Kenneth, doubtfully. "I never saw a horse just like that, you know."
"See what it says," cried the young man. "'The Dreadful Terror in his Native Jungle! Captured after Awful Weeks of Cyclonic Struggle! To be seen in the Full and Excruciating Exuberance of his own Tremendous Verbosity in this Show alone!' What do you think of that?"
"Well, I don't know, hardly. I can tell better after I have seen the horse," said Kenneth.
"Yes, and we must be moving or we'll be late," returned the young man. "Here we go!" and off along the road they went again. In a few minutes they came to the circus-grounds. There were two large tents connected, with many smaller ones standing alone. There were great banners everywhere showing pictures of the wonders within, the largest being devoted to the horse. They left their bicycles in a shed, and after buying tickets, went into the first of the big tents. There was a great crowd inside, especially over at one side. "I think the horse is over there," whispered the young man. Just then they heard a man shouting:
"This way, ladies and gentlemen, to see the Mighty Monarch of the Trackless Jungle, the only Horse ever captured by Man. He is now about to be fed a Peck of Hardened Oats, which he will Crunch and Rend by the Terrific Force of his Unaided and Unassisted Jaws! Step up, ladies and gentlemen; step up!"
"We've got to see that horse if half of our bones are broken," exclaimed the young man, as he seized Kenneth by the arm, and began to force their way through the crowd.