A Journal of a Tour in the Congo Free StateDorman, Marcus R. P.
History
A Journal of a Tour in the Congo Free State
Dorman, Marcus R. P.
Congo (Democratic Republic) -- Description and travel
We leave Irebu on August 29th in the _Florida_ and steam up the river
Ubangi. The colour of the water at once changes for whereas the Congo
carries much sand and is brown, the Ubangi carries much clay and is a
dirty yellow. The banks are densely wooded and in the stream are many
islands also covered with forest. Lying on patches of sand or on the
fallen trunks of trees are many crocodiles asleep. There is not much
sport in shooting them but one which was leisurely swimming up stream
about fifty yards from the ship, made a sporting shot and was killed
with a bullet in the heart. As the cabin is small and hot, we arrange to
sleep on the bridge of the steamer which is almost embedded in trees
when we tie up to the bank for the night. A tornado bursts about
midnight, but the dense foliage acts as a protection and very little
water finds its way into our improvised bedroom.
Next day we stop at Bobanghe, a native Wood-Post, and go ashore. The
huts here are thatched with grass, for palms seem scarce. Some of the
men have black beards which they plait into one or two tails, producing
a curious appearance and while they fish, the women do the work of the
village and the marketing. Several of them were sitting on logs,
contentedly puffing tobacco smoke from wooden pipes while they offered
fish, fruit and vegetables for sale to our crew and native passengers.
One variety of fish was particularly noticeable; it was coloured like a
trout, but had a long snout on the dorsal side. We bought one, and it
proved very good eating. The forest here is full of rubber plants,
nearly every vine and leaf, when broken, yielding the milky sap which
dries, or can be coagulated, into rubber.
One day the boy Jean fell overboard, but leisurely undressed in the
water and swam to the bank, whence he was rescued by the canoe of the
steamer. He was perfectly calm but Chikaia burst into tears and loudly
blubbered. Very little indeed is sufficient to arouse emotionalism in
some-of the natives, who are always laughing or crying, fortunately the
former more often than the latter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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