“Tuesday, May 10, 1887.—We started from Underhill Station at 2.30. Our men were sent on before to a town called Vunda, where they were to pitch the tent for the night. The caravan consisted of thirty-five carriers—eight for my hammock, six for the hammock used in turn by Mr. Phillips and Mr. Lewis, and the rest for loads—Malevo, who was our interpreter, Mpombolo, who was our cook, two personal boys, my Cameroon girl Marian, and ourselves. Mr. Scrivener took us in a boat to Noki, where we disembarked. I got into my hammock and the others followed on foot. We soon reached the bottom of a steep hill, where Mr. Scrivener said goodbye, and returned. It was dreadful work for the hammock-bearers to get up this hill. Most of the time I was nearly perpendicular. They stumbled once but did not let me down. The country here is a succession of steep and barren hills.
“We arrived at Vunda about six o’clock, just as it was getting dark. Here we met another caravan from San Salvador with letters from Messrs. Weeks and Graham, reporting all well and welcoming us. The Underhill boys were sent back, and we went on with those from San Salvador. After prayers, we retired to bed at eight o’clock. The mosquitoes were very bad. Mr. Phillips slept in a native house.
“Wednesday, 11th.—We got up at four-thirty and had breakfast in our tent by candle light. The morning was very damp, but as I was wrapped up for the journey in a waterproof sheet and had a waterproof rug for awning, I did not get wet. It amuses the people very much to see Mr. Lewis lift me into the hammock. The carriers object to stooping, so I am lifted in and tucked up in rug and rainsheet. Soon after starting we encountered a very steep hill, but as the path was wide, I was carried up comfortably sideways. On our way we passed a market where the people all screamed out on seeing me, ‘Mundele ankento’ (a white woman), and were delighted when I pulled back the awning and looked out. We reached our next camping-place, a little town with a big name, Kingonde a miezi, about 10 a.m. Here also I was an object of interest and wonder, as Mrs. Weeks was the only white woman they had ever seen before, and she was very ill as she passed through on her way home.
“Thursday, 12th.—We started early. The road to-day is much smoother, and now and then we come upon pretty patches of tropical vegetation. We have seen a great number of brilliant birds, red, with black rings about their necks. The road being smoother, the carriers took me along at a brisk run, and I suffered a severe shaking up. They make the most fearful noises when running, to keep up their spirits. About 10.30 we came to a large plateau where we were to camp for the day. There were few trees, and it reminded me of Hampstead Heath, only it was flat. We managed to find one tree which afforded a little shade, and sat under it until the others came up. Mr. Phillips was suffering with a touch of fever, and had his travelling bed set up until the tents were ready. We have Mr. Weeks’ tent which is a large one, with a small room behind in which Marian sleeps. It was dreadfully hot all day, and we were glad to retire to our tents. In some respects it is pleasanter to camp out than to stay in a town. One is tired after a journey and does not desire to be stared at for the remainder of the day.
“Friday, 13th.—Last night we were much disturbed by the carriers, who, having no other shelter, got under the fly of our tent, and spent the greater part of the night in telling Congo tales. After very little sleep, we rose and had breakfast by moonlight. Mr. Phillips, still feeling poorly, took the hammock most of the way. We crossed one or two small streams and passed through some splendid scenery. A tree covered with bright scarlet blossoms, and some magnificent boulders, balanced one on another, specially attracted my attention.
“About 9 a.m. we came to a place where some women appeared with ‘chop,’ ready cooked, for sale. Although we wanted very much to get on the men insisted on buying; so we got out of our hammocks and sat on a rock while they took their refreshment. After making another start we reached Lombo town. There the hammock men made a stand, determined to wait for Mr. Lewis. At this place a kind of play is performed by which it is hoped to frighten strangers. Men called ‘Nkimba,’ smeared all over with white stuff, and wearing petticoats of grass, rush out, make whirring noises, and screech horribly. However, seeing two white men, they did not come very near to us.”
“About 11 a.m. we halted at Kiunga, a small, wretched place where the people were exceedingly troublesome. It was some time before the tent men arrived, and we had to sit under the eaves of a native house and take our ‘chop.’ Having a severe headache, Mr. Phillips retired into the native house in which he was to sleep, and lay down to rest. Mr. Lewis fell asleep in his chair. In the meantime the chief, who was absent when we arrived, returned. Seeing us he ran up, shook hands with me, and having shaken up Mr. Lewis went into the house, and in spite of the boys’ protest insisted upon waking Mr. Phillips. After this he brought us some palm wine. It was refreshing, but I do not care for it. Later, having fallen asleep, I was rudely awakened by some one shaking me, and shrieking something in Portuguese. It was another man who had just come home and was decidedly the worse for drink. Of course, I had to smile and shake hands with him. Mr. Lewis had retired to our tent. I followed him, but both he and Mr. Phillips had to submit to the same process. We were all very tired, and it was very hot, but there was no rest for us that afternoon. We were just beginning to enjoy a little quiet, when a number of men appeared at the tent door, gesticulating and talking loudly, several of them having obviously had too much to drink. They spoke Portuguese, and upon sending for Lembwa we found they were insisting that we should give them gin. It was long before we could be rid of them. At tea-time they returned clamouring for sugar. As we were short of that article, we put them off by allowing them to have a drink of tea all round, which not being sweet they did not like. We were glad when the time came for bed, though even there we had little rest, for the mosquitoes were dreadful in spite of curtains.
“Saturday, 14th.—We started early, as usual, and left Kiunga without regret. Hence to San Salvador the track runs mostly through long grass. It is from twelve to twenty feet high, and so thick and strong that the carriers had hard work to pull the hammock through. In the early mornings the dews were so heavy that the water was running off the hammock-pole, and Mr. Lewis and Mr. Phillips were wet to the skin. We reached Kongo dia Ntinu about 10.30. I arrived some time before the others, alighted from the hammock, and sat on the cushions in the shade of a house. Here the people did not venture near me at first, but sat at a respectful distance, staring with all their might. When our ‘chop’ box arrived we found, on opening it, that the bottle containing butter had been broken, and that consequently everything was bathed in oil. We managed to save a little, but must needs take everything out, as milk, tea-leaves, butter, and salt were well mixed together. A man here brought a queer little animal for sale. It was quite tame and the boys declared it would make good ‘chop.’ After some discussion, we decided that it was an ant-eater. Mr. Phillips bought it as a pet, but since our arrival at San Salvador it has disappeared. Kongo dia Ntinu is a clean town, and a nice native house was placed at our service, which we found much cooler than the tent in the afternoon. While walking in the town we came upon some splendid lime trees growing wild and laden with fruit; also some guava trees. We refreshed ourselves from the latter, and gathered a lot of limes to take with us. I should have mentioned that our new pet received the honoured name of ‘Jeremiah.’
“Sunday, 15th.—It was not considered advisable to make a halt on Sunday, so we started as usual. The height of the grass made it impossible for my carriers to turn, so I was carried up hills with head where my feet ought to be, a posture which was not productive of pleasant sensations. At the foot of one hill I had to alight to cross a small stream, and as I happened to be ahead of the others I did not relish the prospect of getting in again on the slope of such a steep hill, so I ventured to walk up with the assistance of Lembwa’s climbing-stick. But my husband and Mr. Phillips shook their heads so gravely over my imprudence that I did not dare to repeat the exploit.
“To-day we crossed a river called the Lusu, which is bridged by a few branches of trees, twisted and tied together. It was rather awkward, but we took off our boots and got over safely. On this side we were detained for some time by a long palaver about paying toll for the use of the bridge. When this was settled the chief ‘dashed’ us a goat, for which we returned about twice its value in cloth. We then resumed our journey. At most of the towns they ‘dashed’ us fowls, and sometimes one of the women would bring me something special. Just before arriving at Mongo Kongo, where we camped to-day, we had to cross a small stream, in doing which Mr. Lewis sat down in the middle, and was carried into camp in a sopping condition, as his boots were off and shared the immersion. He had to sit, minus some of his garments, wrapped up in a rug in a native house till the man arrived with his bag. We passed through some lovely bits of forest to-day, but the greater part is not what we understand by ‘tropical.’