An African road—Our mode of travelling through the forests—Farewell to Jameson and the Major—160 days in the forest—The Rapids of Yambuya—Attacked by natives of Yankonde—Rest at the village of Bahunga—Description of our march—The poisoned Skewers—Capture of six Babali—Dr. Parke and the bees—A tempest in the forest—Mr. Jephson puts the steel boat together—The village of Bukanda—Refuse heaps of the villages—The Aruwimi river scenery—Villages of the Bakuti and the Bakoka—The Rapids of Gwengweré—The boy Bakula-Our "chop and coffee"—The islands near Bandangi—The Baburu dwarfs—The unknown course of the river—The Somalis—Bartering at Mariri and Mupé—The Aruwimi at Mupé—The Babé manners, customs, and dress—Jephson's two adventures—Wasp Rapids—The chief of the Bwamburi—Our camp at My-yui—Canoe accident—An abandoned village—Arrival at Panga Falls—Description of the Falls.
1887.
June 28.
Yambuya. An African road generally is a foot-track tramped by travel to exceeding smoothness and hardness as of asphalt when the season is dry. It is only twelve inches wide from the habit of the natives to travel in single file one after another. When such a track is old it resembles a winding and shallow gutter, the centre has been trodden oftener than the sides—rain-water has rushed along and scoured it out somewhat—the sides of the path have been raised by humus and dust, the feet of many passengers have brushed twigs and stones and pressed the dust aside. A straight path would be shorter than the usual one formed by native travel by a third in every mile on an average. This is something like what we hoped to meet in defiling out of the gate of the intrenched camp at Yambuya, because during four preceding Expeditions into Africa we had never failed to follow such a track for hundreds of miles. Yambuya consisted of a series villages. Their inhabitants must have neighbours to the 1887.
June 28.
Yambuya. Eastward as well as to the Southward or Westward. Why not?
MARCHING THROUGH THE FOREST.
We marched out of the gate, company after company in single file. Each with its flag, its trumpeter or drummer, each with its detail of supernumeraries, with fifty picked men as advance guard to handle the bill-hook and axe, to cut saplings, "blaze," or peel a portion of the bark of a tree a hand's-breadth, to sever the leaves and slash at the rattan, to remove all obtrusive branches that might interfere with the free passage of the hundreds of loaded porters, to cut trees to lay across streams for their passage, to form zeribas or bomas of bush and branch around the hutted camp at the end of the day's travel. The advance guard are to find a path, or, if none can be found, to choose the thinnest portions of the jungle and tunnel through without delay, for it is most fatiguing to stand in a heated atmosphere with a weighty load on the head. If no thinner jungle can be found, then through anything, however impenetrable it may appear; they must be brisk—"chap-chap"—as we say, or an ominous murmur will rise from the impatient carriers 1887.
June 28.
Yambuya. behind. They must be clever and intelligent in wood-craft; a greenhorn, or as we call him "goee-goee," must drop his bill-hook, and take the bale or box. Three hundred weary fellows are not to be trifled with, they must be brave also—quick to repel assault—arrows are poisonous, spears are deadly—their eyes must be quick to search the gloom and shade, with sense alert to recognition, and ready to act on the moment. Dawdlers and goee-goees are unbearable; they must be young, lithe, springy—my 300 behind me have no regard for the ancient or the corpulent—they would be smothered with chaff and suffocated with banter. Scores of voices would cry out, "Wherein lies this fellow's merit? Is it all in his stomach? Nay, it is in his wooden back—tut—his head is too big for a scout. He has clearly been used to hoeing. What does the field hand want on the Continent? You may see he is only a Banian slave! Nay, he is only a Consul's freed man! Bosh! he is a mission boy." Their bitter tongues pierce like swords through the armour of stupidity, and the bill-hooks with trenchant edges are wielded most manfully, and the bright keen axes flash and sever the saplings, or slice a broad strip of bark from a tree, and the bush is pierced, and the jungle gapes open, and fast on their heels continuously close presses the mile-long caravan.
This is to be the order, and this the method of the march, and I have stood observing the files pass by until the last of the rear guard is out of the camp, and the Major and Jameson and the garrison next crowd out to exchange the farewell.
"Now, Major, my dear fellow, we are in for it. Neck or nothing! Remember your promise and we shall meet before many months."
"I vow to goodness. I shall be after you sharp. Let me once get those fellows from Bolobo and nothing shall stop me."
"Well, then, God bless you—keep a stout heart—and Jameson—old man—the same to you."
Captain Nelson, who heard all this, stepped up in his turn to take a parting grasp, and I strode on to the 1887.
June 28.
Yambuya. front, while the Captain placed himself at the head of the rear guard.