“The old chief pointed with his finger to the face of Frank, which shone white amongst the dusky bodies of his comrades, and I beckoned to him. The canoes were all to anchor 100 yards off shore, but Frank was required to respond to the chief of Rubunga’s wish for friendship. We distributed presents to each native, and in return we received great bunches of mellow, ripe, and green bananas, as well as of fish. It was agreed between us that we should encamp on this little islet, on which we find ourselves to-night, with a feeling as though we were approaching home. “Before leaving the chief of Rubunga’s presence, I asked him the name of the river, in a mongrel mixture of Ki-swahili, Kinyamwezi, Kijiji, Ki-regga, and Ki-Kusu. He understood after a while, and replied it was ‘Ibari.’ But after he had quite comprehended the drift of the question, he replied in a sonorous voice, ‘_Ikutu ya Kongo!_’ “There had really been no doubt in my mind since we had left the Stanley Falls that the terrible river would prove eventually to be the river of Congoland, but it was very agreeable to be told so. “We have received food sufficient to last us for this day. The native women require a longer time to muster courage to make the acquaintance of the strangers, and have postponed their visit until to-morrow. A grand market for our special benefit is to be held on this island. The drums of Rubunga will be beaten to-morrow morning, not for war, but to summon the aborigines to come forward with provisions to sell. In the meantime hunger has been expelled, the gnawing emptiness has been banished, and our long-harassed minds are at rest. May this happy friendship be the first of many more!” CHAPTER X. High art in tattooing—Suspicious friendliness—Friends or foes?—A treacherous attack—The fauna of the Livingstone—Among the “Houyhynyms”—The “Yaha-ha-has”—Frank’s courage and narrow escape—Our fight with the Bangala—The mirage on the river—The great tributary of the Livingstone—Among friends. _Feb. 9._—While we rested on the jungle-covered islet opposite Rubunga, we experienced that repose of spirits which only the happy few who know neither care nor anxiety can enjoy. For the first time for many weeks we had slept well. There was no simulation in the cheerful morning greetings which were passed from one man to another. That wide-eyed suspicious look and the swift searching glance of distrust had toned down, and an unreserved geniality pervaded the camp.