Every village had been burnt to the ground, and as I fled from the country I saw skeletons, skeletons everywhere; and such postures, what tales of horror they told! Let this suffice, worse than all this I saw, and that I have not exaggerated one jot or tittle, may God bear me witness! I would not have entered into these revolting details, but that I think it advisable that those who have not the chance of seeing for themselves should know what is going on every day in this country. A beautiful yellow covers this spot on the map, with a fringe of red spots with flags attached, denoting (as the map informs you) stations of the Congo Free State. And yet a peaceful agricultural people can be subjected to horrors like this for months (_without any one knowing_). And why? Because the whole system is bunkum--the so-called partition of Africa. The stations marked do not exist; and read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest this fact: I have to pay a licence _to carry a gun_ in the country. The next day I reached Kishari, and found that this beautiful and well-watered country had been converted into a howling wilderness, Kameronse having suffered to the same extent. Thus a tract of country about 3,000 square miles in extent has been depopulated and devastated. I do not believe that two per cent. of the thousands of inhabitants have survived the massacre and famine: in Kishari and Kameronse there is not one single soul. And all this is directly attributable to the revolted Askaris of the Congo: they led the attack with thirty guns, took all the cattle, and then departed, leaving this horde of hyænas in their wake; and a similar fate has, I suppose, befallen all those tribes between Tanganyika and Albert Edward through whose country they passed.