_Photo by_: _Rev. C. J. Dodds_ A VILLAGE STREET IN MONSEMBE This row of houses belongs to one man, and while he may have one for himself, he will also have a wife in each hut. Every marriage means an additional house, for the Congo native is too cute to put two women in one house. ] Arriving at the extreme upper end of the series of Bumba villages, we tied our steamer to a tree on the bank and went ashore. A few miserable, half-starved dogs barked at us; but there was no one to greet us, or object to our landing. We moved slowly forward, and then we noticed that the virile, young men, armed with spears and shields, were keeping about fifty yards ahead of us; that the old men and the sick were crouching over their fires warming their hands and keeping up a constant chatter; and that there was an absence of women and children in the villages. Now when there is an absence of women and children in an African town or village, you may be fairly certain that the men are up to mischief, or think a fight is to the fore. We walked warily to keep ourselves out of any possible ambush; and as we came to the gullies dividing the villages we found the planks had been removed, this necessitated our going down and up the sides of the gullies. Arriving at the last ditch we started to cross it as we had done the others, when we observed a rustle in the tall grass on the further side, and looking closely we saw that the bush was alive with armed men with spears gripped threateningly. Just beyond them in the forest were their women and children, and they were standing between them and possible death or capture as represented, so they thought, by the two white men on the opposite side of the gully. To have run away would have meant a shower of spears hurtling through the air after us from the excited people, so we sat down and parleyed with them. “Did you ever know,” we asked, “white men coming to fight without soldiers?” “No,” was their ready though surly reply. “Well, we have no soldiers with us,” was our quick rejoinder. That was self-evident, for there were only a few of our personal lads about us. With a little more hope in our heart of escaping from another difficult fix, we began again. “Did you ever know white men to come and fight without guns and swords?” was our next question. “No,” again was their reply. This time a little more friendliness in their tone, for their fears of a fight were, like ours, passing away. “Well,” we argued, “we are two white men without guns or soldiers, but with simply walking-sticks in our hands; and are all your men armed with spears afraid of two white men with walking-sticks? Come and put up the bridge and help us across.” After a short consultation among themselves, some young men replaced the plank and helped us over; and the discreet distribution of a few beads, spoons, and penny looking-glasses won for us their eternal good-will.