[to be continued.]
[STANLEY'S GREAT JOURNEY.]
BY WILLIAM L. ALDEN.
The great journey of Mr. Henry M. Stanley, in which he crossed the continent of Africa, was both the longest and the most important journey that any African traveller has made. Both Dr. Livingstone and Commander Cameron had already crossed Africa, but they crossed it by a more southerly and much shorter path than that taken by the American traveller. They suffered a great deal from fever and weariness and the terrible heat; but Mr. Stanley, in addition to these miseries, was compelled to fight his way through tribe after tribe of blood-thirsty cannibals, and to follow the course of a dangerous river, full of rapids, in a frail boat. It is almost a miracle that he ever lived to reach the civilized world; and had he not been as prudent and skillful as he was brave and persevering, he never would have finished his journey.
Mr. Stanley started from Zanzibar—a town on the east coast of Africa—in November, 1874, with three young Englishmen and three hundred and fifty-three native Africans. Only a few of these were armed with rifles, for most of them were porters. In Africa, calico and beads are used for money, and as a traveller must have plenty of these with him, he has to employ a great many porters. You will ask why he does not have horses or oxen to carry his goods. The reason is that there is an insect in Africa, called the tsetse, the bite of which kills all animals of burden, so that travellers have to hire natives to carry all their property on their heads.
Stanley marched first to Lake Victoria—a lake discovered by Captain Speke in 1858, and which is one of the sources of the Nile. After sailing all around this lake in a boat which was made for him in England, and was built so that it could be taken apart and carried by the porters, he went to another great lake, discovered by Captain Burton in 1856, and called Lake Tanganyika. This he also circumnavigated in his boat, and discovered that it had no outlet. West of Lake Tanganyika Dr. Livingstone had discovered a great river, which he thought might be the Congo. Commander Cameron had also seen this river, and both of them wanted to descend it to its mouth, but they thought it would be impossible to make their way through the fierce savages who live on its banks.
When Stanley reached this great river, two of the young Englishmen that had started with him, Fred Barton and Edward Pocock, had already died of the deadly African fever, and so many of his other men had died, or deserted, or been killed, that he had only one white man, Frank Pocock, and one hundred and forty-nine natives—some of whom were women—who were willing to join him in a voyage down the river. He bought a number of canoes, and with these and his English boat, the Lady Alice, began his voyage. He had to fight almost constant battles with the natives, and the great river, with its swift current, that swept many of his canoes over the rapids, was almost as dangerous as the savages. In one of these rapids poor Frank Pocock was drowned, and when, after suffering the most terrible hardships, Stanley reached the Portuguese settlement near the mouth of the Congo, he had only one hundred and fifteen followers left, and these, like himself, were nearly dead from starvation, disease, and hardship.
One day Mr. Stanley was sailing on Lake Victoria in the Lady Alice with eleven natives, and being out of provisions, and very hungry, they rowed toward the shore, intending to land and buy food. About two hundred savages, armed with spears and bows and arrows, gathered to meet them. Stanley's men called to them, and told them they were friends, and wanted to buy food. The savages seemed to be peaceful, but as soon as the boat touched the shore, they seized it, and dragged it twenty yards up the beach, with Mr. Stanley sitting in it.
Then they swarmed around him, yelling and flourishing their clubs and spears. Many of them took aim at Stanley with their arrows; but he told his men to speak gently to them, and to convince them that they were friends. They demanded calico and beads, and Stanley gave them all they asked. Then they seized the boat's oars, and carried them off; but still the traveller made no resistance. The crowd constantly increased, until there were at least three hundred of the savages, all armed and painted for battle. They abused Stanley and his men, telling them they were cowards, and that they were going to kill them, and twenty times Mr. Stanley thought his last moment had come. Finally he told one of his men to go a little distance away from the boat, and to engage the attention of the savages, while the rest of them should take hold of the boat on each side, and at the word of command try to launch it. They did so; but the savages saw the boat moving, and rushed to the water's edge just as she glided into the lake. The man who had tried to attract the attention of the wretches while the boat was launched sprang into the water after her, and a savage was just on the point of spearing him, when Stanley fired, and saved his follower's life by shooting the spear-man. The men now climbed into the boat, and tearing up the bottom boards, tried to paddle with them away from the shore, while Stanley threatened the savages with his gun, and for a few moments kept them at a distance. They soon plucked up courage, however, and springing into their canoes, paddled after the Lady Alice. There was no escape except by driving the enemy back, and Mr. Stanley, with four shots from his elephant rifle, loaded with explosive balls, sunk two of the canoes, and killed five men, after which the others retreated, and the Lady Alice, after paddling all night, and driving before a heavy gale all the next day and all the next night, in imminent peril of sinking, brought her exhausted crew to an uninhabited island, seventy-six hours after the fight. Instead of showing a hard-hearted readiness to fire on the poor Africans, in this, as in all his other fights, Stanley showed the most wonderful self-control, and only used his rifle when he had to choose between being killed, together with his men, and firing on his brutal foes.
STANLEY ATTACKED BY THE NATIVES.
The greater part of Stanley's battles were fought while descending the Congo. Sometimes the natives came out in canoes and attacked him on the river, and sometimes they attacked him while he was camping on the shore. Once fifty-four canoes, carrying at least two thousand men, were successfully beaten off in a sharp battle. At night the camp had to be protected by a stockade made of brush-wood; and often the tired explorer, after paddling all day, had to watch all night to repel the constant attacks of the enemy. Sometimes, when they were dragging the canoes through the forest around the rapids, the woods would suddenly be alive with cannibals who had been lying in ambush. Armed with clubs and spears and poisoned arrows, they would rush on Stanley and his handful of men, shouting that they would eat the strangers for dinner. But whether there were a hundred or a thousand of them, Stanley always managed to drive them back. It was his cool courage, quite as much as the rifles of his men, which gave him the victory. Had he not been a man born to command, he could never have inspired his men with courage to face such swarms of savages; and had he not been as brave a man as ever lived, he could never have fought hand to hand with a score of hungry cannibals all at once, and driven them back in terror of the dauntless white man.
Mr. Stanley has furnished a splendid example of what patience, perseverance, and courage can accomplish in the face of the most formidable obstacles, and he will always be celebrated as one of the greatest explorers the world has ever known.
"PERSEVERANCE."
[A STRANGE VALENTINE.]
BY KATE McD. R.
"When will you be ready to go down street for our valentines, Lilla?" asked Margie Goold, as she stood listlessly at the window watching the passers-by. "You said you'd go half an hour ago, and I've been waiting ever since."
But Lilla was deep in her arithmetic, and apparently unconscious that Margie had asked any question, until suddenly she jumped up, and throwing some papers well covered with figures into the grate, exclaimed,
"I would have been ready long ago had it not been for that horrid D."
"Why, Lilla Goold, you ought to be ashamed to call D. horrid," cried little Fay, indignantly, from her seat on the rug, where she was giving Fido a lesson in making believe dead.
"Yes, indeed, you ought," seconded Margie. "Mamma was saying just a day or two ago that we must respect D., and remember what a faithful nurse she was to all of us. And you, of all others, to call her names, when she sat up night after night with you when you were so ill! And anyway she has only come to bring the clothes home, and will probably go right away again, as she always does."
Lilla interrupted Margie's praise of their old nurse by throwing herself on the sofa and laughing immoderately.
Margie looked indignant, Fay puzzled, while Fido came quickly to life and barked vociferously.
"There! even Fido resents having D. so talked about," cried Margie, triumphantly.
"I never meant Dinah at all," laughingly protested Lilla. "She is a dear old soul. I mean the D in my example, who is digging a ditch with A, B, and C, and I'm to find out how long it takes them, and then how much faster D works than A. I get along finely until D appears, and then I don't know how to go on."
"Oh," said Margie, in a relieved tone; "but wasn't it strange that just as you said something about D, old nurse D. came across the street with the washing, and of course I thought you meant her. Here she comes out again, and the poor thing can hardly stand, it is so slippery. Mamma"—as Mrs. Goold entered the room—"why does D. bring the clothes still? I should think Rosa would offer to come with them, instead of sending her old aunt out. Why, just see! she can scarcely stand."
"Rosa does not send her, dearie," said Mrs. Goold, joining her little girls at the window, "for she told me she thought it dangerous for Dinah to be out in the winter so unprepared as she is, but that Dinah persists in coming, no matter what the weather, that she may inquire herself about 'de chillen.'"
"Good old D.," said Fay, using the name that Lilla—the first baby—had given Dinah, and both the others had adopted in their turn. "Why, mamma," continued the little one, straining her eyes to catch a glimpse of Dinah's departing figure, "how will she ever get home? There! good! Rosa has met her. I'm so glad!"
"D. needs a pair of that new kind of rubbers that we stopped to look at to-day in Mr. Brooks's store window," said Lilla, putting away her books, "and then she could get along finely."
"Let's get her a pair," exclaimed the wide-awake Margie, "when we go for our valentines. Will you give us the money, mamma? I think the price is a dollar."
"I'll give twenty-five cents toward it," answered Mrs. Goold, as she laid some money on the table, and left the room.
"Of course mamma means by that that we ought to give the rest. What do you say to getting the rubbers, instead of valentines for Lou and Jess?" suggested Margie.
"Then they won't send us any. They never do, you know, until they get ours."
"That's so; and Madge Hammond proposed to-day that all the girls bring their valentines to school Monday, and we want to have as many as we possibly can, and here"—spreading them out upon the table as she spoke—"so far I've got only three."
Fay's brown eyes were opening wider and wider as she listened. "Papa gave me a lot of pennies to send a vantaline to Cousin Daisy, but I'd rather send a rubber vantaline to Dinah."
"You little darling!" cried Lilla, kissing her, "you're a lesson to us." Then, turning to Margie: "I guess if baby can give her money, we can. Let's go right down for the rubbers, and send them in valentine style, as Fay proposes. Yes, of course Fay shall go too," she added, noticing the large eyes turned questioningly to hers.
About an hour later they rushed into the sitting-room, exclaiming, "We've got them, and they're beauties—lined throughout, and come over the ankles."
"How did you know the size?" inquired Mrs. Goold, after she had duly admired them.
"The most fortunate thing in the world," answered Margie, "was our meeting Rosa just as we were going into the store, and after she had promised not to breathe a syllable to D., we told her the plan, took her into the store with us, and she selected the rubbers."
And as Margie paused, Lilla went on: "Rosa says they're just the thing, and she's coming over to-night to tell us how D. likes them. Mr. Brooks waited on us himself at first, and looked crosser than a bear. He had his green glasses on, and stared at us so hard that I was glad when a gentleman came in to see him, and one of the clerks took his place."
"And the clerk," put in Margie, "kept telling us that the rubbers were the latest thing in the market, and I laughed right out at the thought of D.'s knowing or caring whether they were in style."
"Then," resumed Lilla, "as we were leaving the store, Mr. Brooks stepped forward, and said, in the sternest tone, to Rosa—you know she used to work at his house—'I wish you would wait a few moments, Rosa; I desire to speak to you;' so we left her there."
It was a picture not soon to be forgotten that met Mr. Goold's gaze as he came upon the little group in the cozy sitting-room, lighted only by the bright coals in the grate.
"Still talking valentines?" he asked, kissing mamma, and lifting Fay from her arms to his own. Then sitting down, and putting her on his knee, he questioned, "Well, how about them?"
Lilla and Margie then began an account of buying Dinah's rubber shoes, and when they were brought for his inspection, to their great delight he dropped a piece of money in each.
"Now Rosa will have a s'prise too," cried Fay, clapping her hands.
Supper over, the sleigh came round, and soon the package was left at Dinah's door, and the children were home again.
"Now I must try that example once more," announced Lilla, as she bent over her book. Then, after a few moments' study, "Oh! I see—I have it!" she cried, triumphantly: "D works just twice as fast as A."
"D must have worn a pair of stylish rubbers," laughed Margie. "Probably A couldn't stand as firmly in the ditch."
While they were laughing at Margie's explanation, Jane came to the door with some valentines, which excited the usual amount of wonderment.
"I had no idea we'd get so many," said Lilla, in a satisfied, tone; "I don't believe Madge can be ahead of us."
Another knock, and Rosa presented herself with a "Can I come in?" which showed all her beautiful teeth. The children made a rush for the young colored girl, and overwhelmed her with questions.
"Oh, chillen, she was so pleased, and so berry thankful! She wanted to come right over and show dem to you all, but I 'suaded her to wait till mornin'." And then Rosa went on to say what a perfect fit the rubbers were, and how Dinah was singing around, as happy as could be, and in a hurry for morning, that she might wear them.
"Does she s'pect who sent 'em?" asked Fay.
"I's 'fraid she does, honey, 'cause when she went to try dem on, some money fell out, an' I said: 'Dem careless chillen! I's feared Miss Goold's bringin' dem up to tink money grows on bushes'; an' Aunt Dinah said, 'Did dey gib 'em?' so I jest said, 'I'll take de money dar fust, anyway, an' see,'" and Rosa held up two silver pieces, saying, "Who lost, I's found?"
"Why, Rosa, it's your s'prise," explained Fay—"your vantaline," at which Rosa's astonishment and delight knew no bounds.
"Altogether it's been the nicest Valentine's Day we've ever had," Lilla and Margie agreed, as they were getting ready for bed, and Fay said, drowsily, from her crib, "I shouldn't think you'd care, now, if Madge Hammond"—and then the words came slower and slower, "should bring—twenty—rubbers—in—a—ditch."
Jane came into the nursery next morning, saying, "There is a valentine at each of your plates this morning;" but not another word would she say about them.
You may be sure no one was late to breakfast that morning, and I wish you could have seen how three expectant faces lit up as each spied a tiny basket of flowers at her plate.
"When did they come?" "Who could have sent them?" "Will they keep fresh till Monday?"
"Wait a minute," said papa, feeling for his pencil. "I must write down all these questions. Now I'm ready for number four."
"Don't tease us, papa," pleaded Margie. "Just answer what we've asked already."
"Agreed: firstly, they came last night, and mamma thought it best not to wake you; secondly, Mr. Brooks sent them."
"Mr. Brooks!" all in chorus.
"Yes, he's a kind of bear, I heard yesterday," said papa.
Lilla looked ashamed.
"Thirdly, they will keep till Monday, if good care is taken."
"Then we can carry them to school," joyfully exclaimed Lilla.
"And what do you think of Mr. Brooks now?" asked mamma.
"Why, I don't know what to think, I'm so surprised. Are you certain they're from him?"
"I judge so, from what Rosa told me last night. Mr. Brooks asked her who you were, and when she told him you were going to send the rubbers as a valentine to Dinah, he said, 'I believe I'll write down their names: "One good turn deserves another."' And more than that, Rosa says he is one of the kindest men she ever knew, and far from being as cross as he looks."
"I think," said Lilla, "I shall remember after this lesson to 'judge not by appearances.'"
"I guess I'll keep account of all the proverbs about Mr. Brooks," said Margie, and reaching mischievously for papa's pencil, she wrote:
"Before you say 'tis chill December,
Know all the signs of mild September."
Said Blackbird to Miss Yellow-Bird:
"How bright the sun does shine!
And you look sweet. Oh, pray consent
To be my Valentine!"
"I really can't," said Yellow-Bird;
"I don't to you incline;
I am too blonde—indeed, I am—
To be your Valentine."