As illustrative of the preceding remarks the following unvarnished story is unfortunately too _à propos_: A State steamer in 1890 was proceeding up a tributary of the Congo, and on its upper deck two white officers were sitting holding a discussion on marksmanship, when they saw, at some distance in front of them, a native standing in his canoe paddling it from one side to the other of the river. The two officers instantly made a bet as to which of them could knock the man over. Guns were raised and fired, and Captain X. brought down the poor unsuspecting wretch and pocketed the stakes;[4] but he left a heritage of hate that has lasted to this day, if there are still alive in that district any relatives of the murdered man, or witnesses of the foul murder. Footnote 4: In 1890 this incident was common talk in that district. Besides the two men who laid the wager, there were two other white men on board—captain of the steamer and the engineer. This incident was more frequently related as a joke than otherwise. It seemed to some of us a righteous retribution when a couple of years later Captain X. himself was shot by his native attendant, whether accidentally or purposely nobody knew. Let me say, once for all, that among the State officers there were gentlemen of fine, sterling character who acted fairly and honourably in all their dealings with the natives; men whose ideals were high, whose motives were good, and who desired nothing better than the amelioration of the tribes with which they came into contact. If such men had been in the majority, and had had a free hand, the pitiful, horrible story of Congo atrocities would never have been written. About twenty-five miles above Bokomela we came upon the Monsembe district. There were three bays crowded with large towns, and only two miles beyond Monsembe was a long creek teeming with people. We reckoned also that Bungundu and Bokomela districts would come within the sphere of our influence; but before fixing on Monsembe as our centre we went still higher up-river to weigh the possibilities of other places. Town after town we passed of prosperous, healthy, fierce, and barbarous savages. Very often we were amongst them and shaking hands with them before they had decided whether to welcome or fight us; then seeing two friendly, unarmed white men in their midst they greeted us heartily and were soon bartering fowls, plantain, and various food-stuffs for empty bottles, old meat tins, and Manchester goods. Diboko (or Nouvelles Anvers) was visited; and with our colleagues at Bopoto we spent a pleasant time. At Bumba we came upon a continuous stretch of villages for nearly two miles in length. As we steamed close to the bank we observed that the villages were divided by gullies which were bridged by old canoe planks. The folk were quiet, and as the place looked well populated with apparently prosperous people, we decided to land. [Illustration: