From Pole to Pole: A Book for Young People

by Sven Anders Hedin

Even for such a man as Stanley this primeval forest was a hard nut to crack. Sickness, weariness, and insubordination prevailed in his troop. The great Tippu Tib considered it impossible to advance through such a country, and wished to turn back with all his black rabble, but after much hesitation he was at last persuaded to accompany Stanley for twenty days longer. So on they went once more, and after innumerable difficulties came again to the bank of the Lualaba.

The huge volumes of water glided along silently and majestically. Brown and thick with decaying vegetation, the Lualaba flowed between dense woods to the unknown region inhabited by negro tribes never heard of by Europeans, and where no white man had ever set his foot. Here Stanley decided to leave the terrible forest and to make use of the waterway of the Lualaba. There were the boats in sections, and a whole fleet of canoes could soon be made from the splendid trees growing at hand. The whole caravan was accordingly assembled, and Stanley explained his purpose. At first the men grumbled loudly, but Stanley declared that he would make the voyage even if no one went with him but Frank Pocock, the only survivor of the three white men who had started with him from Zanzibar. He turned to his boat's crew and called out, "You have followed me and sailed round the great lakes with me. Shall I and my white brother go alone? Speak and show me those who dare follow me!" On this a few stepped forward, and then a few more, and in the end thirty-eight men declared themselves willing to take part in the voyage.

At this juncture many canoes full of natives were observed at the opposite side of the river, so Stanley and Tippu Tib and some other Arabs entered the boat and rowed up to a small island in mid-stream.

Here the black warriors were in swarms, and thirty canoes lay at the water's edge. At a safe distance, Stanley's interpreter called out that the white man only wished to see their country, that nothing belonging to them should be touched, and that they themselves should not be disturbed. They answered that if the white man would row out to the island in the morning with ten servants, their own chief would meet him with ten men, and would enter into blood-brotherhood with him. After that the strangers might cross the river and visit their villages.

Suspecting treachery, however, Stanley sent twenty armed men by night to the island to hide themselves in the brushwood. Then in the morning Pocock and ten men rowed out to the meeting-place, near which Stanley waited in his boat. A swarm of canoes put out from the western bank, and when they came to the island the rowers raised their wild war-whoop, Ooh-hu! Ooh-hu-hu! and rushed ashore with bows bent and raised spears. Then Stanley's twenty men came out of their hiding-place, the fight was short, and the savages dashed headlong into their boats and rowed away for their lives.

The next morning, with thirty men on board his boat, Stanley began his journey down the river, while Tippu Tib and Pocock marched with all the rest of the troop along the bank. The natives had retired, but their cry of Ooh-hu-hu! was still heard in the distance. On an island between the main river and a tributary Stanley's party landed to wait for the caravan and help it over the affluent. In the meantime Stanley made a short excursion up the tributary, the water of which was inky-black owing to the dark tree roots which wound about its bottom. On his return he found the camp island surrounded by hostile canoes and heard random shots, but when his boat drew near, the savages were frightened and rowed away.

At length Tippu Tib straggled up with his party, and the journey could be continued. The boat was rowed near the bank, and the two divisions were kept in touch with each other by means of drums. All the villages they came to were deserted, but the natives were evidently keeping a close watch on these wonderful strangers, for one day when some of Stanley's men were out scouting on two captured canoes, they were attacked, and when they tried to escape they came among eddies and rapids, where their boats capsized and four rifles were lost. The men climbed up and sat astride the upturned canoes until they were rescued by their comrades.

Then the expedition went on again. The river was usually half a mile broad or more, and frequently divided by long rows of islands and holms. The large village of Ikondu consisted of cage-like reed huts built in two long rows. All the inhabitants had fled, but pitchers full of wine were suspended from the palms, melons and bananas emitted their fragrance, and there was plenty of manioc plantations, ground-nuts, and sugar-cane. Near the place was found a large old canoe, cracked, leaky, and dilapidated, but it was patched up, put in the river, and used as a hospital. Smallpox and dysentery raged in the caravan, and two or three corpses were thrown daily into the river.

Once, as the small flotilla was rowing quietly along not far from the bank, a man in the hospital canoe cried out. He had been hit in the chest by a poisoned barb, and this was followed by a whole shower of arrows. The boats were rowed out from the dangerous bank, and a camp was afterwards pitched on an old market-place. The usual fence was set up round the tents, and sentinels were posted in the bush. Then were heard shots, cries, and noise. The watchman ran in calling out, "Look out, they are coming," and immediately arrows and javelins rattled against the stockade, and the savages rushed on, singing their dreadful war-songs. But their arrows and javelins were little use against powder and ball, and they soon had to retire. They were reinforced, however, and returned again and again to the attack, and did not desist till the fight had lasted two hours and twilight had come on.

After other combats, Stanley and Tippu Tib came to a country on the western bank densely peopled with hostile natives, where they had to fight again. The savages were repulsed, and rowed out to a long island, where they moored their canoes by ropes fastened round posts. They would certainly renew the attack next day. But this time they were to be thoroughly checkmated. Rain pelted down on the river, the night was pitch dark, and there was a fresh breeze. Stanley rowed to the island, and his boat stole silently and cautiously under the high tree-covered bank. He cut the ropes of every canoe he got hold of, and in a short time thirty canoes were sent adrift down the river, many of them being caught by boatmen posted farther down stream. Before dawn the men were back at the camp with their looted boats.