Makoneh led the way, and just skirting the first line of breakers he landed on a pebbly beach. The village of Itsi was in sight, he being the petty king of a neighboring tribe. Some canoes soon crossed from it, and were received so kindly that the natives went back with such wonderful stories to their king that next day he paid Stanley a visit. He came in a large canoe carrying eighty-six persons. It was over eighty-five feet long, and propelled by sixty paddlers. These, standing up and keeping time with their strokes to the steady beat of a drum, sent the boat like an arrow through the water and made a stirring picture as they dashed up to Stanley's camp. There were several gray-headed men present, one of whom was introduced to Stanley as the king. The latter noticed that the rest laughed heartily at this, which afterwards turned out to be a practical joke. However, Stanley sat down with the venerable person in amicable conversation, while a young native and Frank seemed to strike up a warm friendship for each other, or at least the native for Pocoke, judging by the way he pressed presents on him.
It seemed strange to Stanley that the young savage should give twice as much to Frank as the king gave to him, but it now came out that this young man was the king, and the aged man Stanley had been conversing with was merely one of his counselors. Stanley at once changed his attention, and asked him what present would please him. The royal young savage had been looking about at the various things in camp, and seeing a very large goat, told Stanley that he wished "big goat." Now this happened to be the last thing the latter wished to part with. A lady in England had requested him to bring back a goat of this very breed, and he had purchased several, of which this alone had survived the long and dangerous journey. He therefore endeavored to bribe the young king by doubling the other presents he had prepared. No, he would have the "big goat." Stanley then offered to give him an ass instead. At this the savage seemed to hesitate. The donkey was very desirable, but at this critical moment the animal sent up a huge bray, which so frightened the women that he would not take him. Other tempting offers were made but nothing would do but the "big goat," and as Stanley was short of provisions (the men having squandered those the king of Chambiri had given them), and as he must have these, he reluctantly turned over the big goat and the young king departed highly delighted. The next day he returned bringing three ordinary goats in exchange and some provisions. Soon the kings or chiefs of other neighboring tribes came in bringing fruit, and everything was harmonious, and treaties of amity were made with all. The one with Itsi was quite ceremonious. Among other things, he gave Stanley a white powder as a charm against evil, in return for which, the latter, with all due gravity, presented him with a half-ounce vial full of magnesia as the white man's charm. This and blood-brotherhood closed the formal proceedings of the treaty-making powers—quite as important, in their way, as similar councils in civilized countries.
Stanley found by observation that though he had traveled from Nyangwe over one thousand two hundred miles, he had descended not quite a thousand feet.
CHAPTER XXIV. AMONG THE CATARACTS.
It is a little singular, that in this age of inquiry and persistent effort to get at the cause of things, no one has yet attempted to explain the reason of tribal differences. Aborigines occupying the same parallels of latitude and longitude, subject to the same influences of climate, living on the same diet, are different in color, features, and more than all, in disposition. The real, or supposed influences, that lie at the bottom of the different races, do not apply here. Difference of origin, of climate, of food, all these must have great effect in changing color, features and character, and hence, to a certain extent, explain how such distinct nationalities exist, but they do not in the least account for tribal differences where all these are the same, and where there are not even barriers of mountains and rivers separating them. Why should our western Indian tribes, roaming over the same prairies, living on the same food, and similar in all their modes of life, be yet so different in form, feature and disposition? Is there really no way of getting a satisfactory, true explanation of all this?
So in Africa, Stanley crossed the continent in the same general range of latitude. The savages he met were all dwellers of the equatorial region, and hence lived in the same climate, used the same food, dressed in the same way, and lived the same life, and yet they were as dissimilar as different nationalities. If any educational influences had been brought to bear upon them one could understand this, but none have been exerted. These same tribal differences Stanley found on the Congo. Fierce cannibals and gentle agricultural people were living side by side. Suspicious, faithless men, differing very little from the better class of monkeys, lived neighbors to tribes unsuspicious and trustful, and wonderfully advanced in the arts of mechanism. At the falls, which were named "Stanley Falls," the natives were suspicious, faithless, cruel, but when he reached the Livingstone Falls, he found the people hospitable, kind and trustful. When this difference burst on Stanley practically, he felt it sensibly, but he philosophically dismissed it with the simple remark, such "is the effect of trade." We cannot accept this explanation at all, for they had no trade with the outside world, and they showed the same kindly natures before he commenced trading with them. The only evidence of their connection with civilized life was that they had muskets, and yet the very first tribe which possessed them was the most fierce, implacable and relentless he met with. This ethnological question has never yet been settled. Still it is not singular that Stanley did not just then trouble himself with it. As long as the difference existed and was now in his favor he was content, as well he might be. The friendly natives at the head of these falls assured him that he had passed the cannibal country, but they differed materially as to the number of falls below—one making them three, another a half dozen or more. No matter whether they were few or many, they must be passed, though he dragged his canoes over lofty mountains to do it.
But if the differences in the character of the natives was great, that in the character of the scenery and aspect of the river was no less so. The wild, fierce savages had become tame, while the gently flowing river, studded with green islands, had become wild and fierce and angry. The gradually descending plain was transformed into the terrific gorge over which hung beetling cliffs, and the placid current into a roaring torrent dashing amid rocks, plunging over precipices, and filling the solitudes with an ever-angry voice. Hostile savages were behind, but hostile nature was before the adventurers, to whom there would be no rest till they found the restless sea.
Immediately before them were two stretches of rapids and then a cataract. The first was a mere piece of broken water that was easily passed. Having no fear of hostile natives, Stanley leisurely explored both river and shore to ascertain the best way of getting around the second rapids. The goods, asses, women and children were taken overland, while the boats were led with hawsers from rock to rock along the shore. Fortunately not a rope broke, and by five o'clock the rapids were passed and all were in camp together.