"SMOKE-RESOUNDING" FALLS OF THE ZAMBESI."SMOKE-RESOUNDING" FALLS OF THE ZAMBESI.
The natives were too much in awe of these falls to approach near enough to them to examine them. They viewed them with fear and wonder from a distance. They would refer to thevapor and noise with the remark, "Smokedoessound there!"
Livingstone learned that at one time another name had been given to these falls by the natives. He was unable to find the exact translation of the name, but believed it to have meant "seething caldron."
Embarking in a canoe Livingstone, after about twenty minutes' sail, came in sight of the falls. The columns of vapor, so appropriately called smoke, rose to a distance of five or six miles. He had noticed much the same appearance when large tracts of grass were burning on the African plains.
As he looked on the wonderful sight, five columns of smoke arose. They seemed to bend in the direction of the wind, as if to lean against a low ridge covered with trees. Seen from a distance, the tops of the columns appeared to mingle with the clouds. White below, and somewhat darker above, the resemblance was a striking one.
The whole scene was most beautiful. The banks of the river and the islands dotting the stream were covered with foliage and vegetation of the most beautiful form and color. At that season of the year several of the trees were covered with blossoms.
Towering over all stood the great burly baobab, with its enormous branches, each as large as the trunk of a tree. To add to the beauty of the scene, groups of graceful palms waved their feather-shaped leaves in the air, against the background of the sky.
To Livingstone the sight of these trees, native to Africa, was always suggestive of "far from home."He could not remain unconscious of the foreign tone they gave to every picture of the landscape.
A silvery-leaved tree, which bore a strong resemblance to the cedar of Lebanon, stood in pleasing contrast with one of cypress-like form and dark-colored foliage, dotted over with scarlet fruit. Here were trees, too, like our spreading oak; others like our elms and chestnuts.
No one could picture the beauty of the scene as it revealed itself to Livingstone's appreciative eyes. To him it seemed as if so lovely a scene could have been gazed upon only by angels in their flight.
The wonder had never before been viewed by white men; for none had ever penetrated the mysterious realms of the Zambesi waters. Mountains in the background was the only feature lacking to make the picture perfect.
Livingstone found that the falls are bounded on three sides by high ridges. These ridges are from three hundred to four hundred feet high, and are covered with forests. Here and there the red soil appears among the trees.
Not half a mile from the falls Livingstone left the canoe in which he had started upon his journey, and embarked in a lighter one. This was manned by menwell acquainted with the rapids. By passing down the center of the stream and taking advantage of the eddies and still places caused by the jutting rocks, he was able to reach an island in the middle of the river. This island was on the edge of the lip over which the water rolled.
In trying to reach this island there was danger of being swept along in some one of the streams which rushed by it. Fortunately the river was low, and Livingstone thus accomplished what he could not have done had it been high.
Though he had reached the island, and was within a few yards of the falls, of which he could command a good view, yet he could not solve the problem of where the vast volume of water went.
It seemed to lose itself as it disappeared into this fissure, the opposite lip of which was only eighty feet distant.
Livingston could not comprehend this mystery, till, creeping to the edge of the abyss, he peered with awe down into a large rent extending from bank to bank of the Zambesi. The river, a stream a thousand yards broad, took this gigantic leap of a hundred feet and became suddenly compressed into a space of from fifteen to twenty yards.
Livingstone found that the entire falls are but a crack made in a hard basaltic rock. This crack extends from the right to the left bank of the river. It is then prolonged on the left bank of the stream through thirty or forty miles of hills.
Looking down into the fissure on the right of theisland, he saw nothing but a dense white cloud. At the time of his visit two beautiful rainbows gave added beauty to the scene. From this dense white cloud a great jet of vapor, looking exactly like steam, mounted some two hundred or three hundred feet into the air.
As the vapor became condensed, Livingstone saw its hue change to the color of dark smoke. As it fell to the ground in a constant shower, he became wet to the skin.
The shower fell for the most part upon the opposite side of the fissure. Back a few yards from the lip stood a straight hedge of evergreen trees, whose leaves were always wet.
From the roots of these trees numberless little rills ran back into the abyss. As they flowed down the steep rocky wall the columns of ascending vapor greedily absorbed them, and mounted with them into the air.
Constantly running down the side of the fissure, yet never reaching the bottom of it, these rills were an ever-active example of the laws of condensation and vaporization in nature.
On the left of the island, Livingstone saw the water at the bottom of the fissure moving away towards the place of its escape near the left bank of the river. The walls of this gigantic crack he found to be perpendicular. The rock itself is one solid mass. On the side over which the water falls he found the edge worn off two or three feet. Pieces of the rock had fallen away, owing to the action of the water. This gave to the edge a somewhat serrated appearance.
The rock is of a dark brown color. About ten feet from the bottom he found it somewhat discolored, from the annual rise of the water.
On the left side of the island Livingstone got a good view of the mass of water which causes one of the columns of vapor to rise. It leaped quite clear of the rock. It was the color of snow, and had the appearance of a thick, unbroken fleece all the way to the bottom.
As he describes it, it seemed to break intoflakes, all moving in the same direction, like bits of steel giving off sparks when burned in a flame of oxygen gas.
To Livingstone this snow-white sheet of water seemed like myriads of small comets. As they rushed in one general direction, each seemed to leave behind it tiny bodies of foam.
It appeared to him like a mass of water leaping impetuously, at one bound, to clear the rock, and finally breaking gradually into spray.
Three spots near these falls—one of them the island on which Livingstone landed—were former sites of worship. Here it was that the chiefs of native tribes offered prayers and sacrifices.
These places of worship were chosen within hearing of the cataract's roar, and in full sight of the bows in the cloud of vapor.
With awe and wonder these children of Nature looked upon the scene. The river to them was most mysterious, and feelings of fear, no doubt, influenced them somewhat in their selection of places of worship.
Livingstone describes a canoe-song of the natives, the words of which, rudely translated, are:—
"The Leeambye! Nobody knowsWhence it comes and whither it goes."
"The Leeambye! Nobody knowsWhence it comes and whither it goes."
The Leeambye, you remember, was one of the many names of the river given to it by the natives.
The play of colors on the cloud may have given them the idea that this was the abode of the Deity. Elsewhere they had seen this play of colors only in the rainbow. When seen in the heavens they gave it a name signifying "the pestle of the gods."
"Here," says Livingstone, "they could approach the emblem and see it stand steadily above the blustering uproar below,—a type of Him who sits supreme, alone, unchangeable, though ruling all changing things. But not aware of His true character, they had no admiration of the beautiful and good in their bosoms. They did not imitate His benevolence, for they were a bloody, imperious crew."
When the Zambesi River is full, or in flood, the natives told Livingstone that the columns of vapor can be seen ten miles off, and the roar of the cataract can be heard at fully that distance.
It would be interesting if we could linger longer in this region of the Zambesi River; but, for lack of space, we must hasten on towards the sea.
As the river descends to the ocean, it takes a southeast course. During the rainy seasons its width increases from five hundred yards to two miles or more, according to the amount of rainfall.
In its course to the sea the river becomes navigable from the Portuguese town of Tete downward to the mouth. During the dry season, however, navigation is somewhat difficult.
Working its way through the Lupata Mountains the river comes to one or two narrow, rocky gorges which tend to make ugly rapids, except in the rainy season, when the river is high.
About eighty miles from the mouth, the Zambesi receives the waters of the Shiré, which flows out from Lake Nyassa.
Lake Nyassa is a sheet of water about two hundred miles long. It attains a width of fifty miles at its widest point.
The Zambesi enters the low country about fifty miles from its mouth. It separates into various streams to form a large delta. The neighborhood of this delta bears the reputation of being very unhealthy.
The most northern stream of the Zambesi is the Kuaka; the most southern, and the one with the deepest channel, is the Luabo.
Various ports and entrances lie along the Zambesi. These were formerly used by slaving vessels and others not engaged in very honorable trade.
These ports are not shown very accurately upon the maps, and it is considered a very difficult and dangerous undertaking to attempt to enter the river without a good pilot.
The falls and the rapids of the Zambesi region, together with its elevated lakes and sites of settlements, are its most picturesque features.
Tete, a Portuguese town, is about four hundred feet above the level of the sea. The rapids of Lake Nyassa where the Shiré issues from it, are more than fifteen hundred feet higher than the ocean. A smaller lake southeast of Nyassa is two thousand feet above the level of the sea.
The coast region drained by the Zambesi is inhabited by natives of a pure negro type. In the central and upper parts of the Zambesi region are tribes of a little higher grade of intelligence. They are the conquerors of the original tribes, many of whom still exist.
The Zulu tribes occupy the elevated region which divides the Limpopo from the Zambesi. They have overrun nearly all the territory south of them and subjugated most of its tribes.
In the sections claimed by the Portuguese the slave trade was for many years the shame and disgrace of the white man. All attempts to civilize and educate the natives, by missionaries from other countries, were met by great hostility on the part of the Portuguese. Even the best efforts of the most unselfish and faithful of missionaryworkers were well nigh fruitless. The greed and the cruelty of the men engaged in the traffic of human beings were almost beyond belief.
Villages were depopulated, homes were laid waste, and fields once under cultivation were despoiled. On every side, ruin and desolation were the work of the destroying hand of the slave trader.
Torn from home, family, and country, their wretched victims were conveyed to the coast, loaded upon some vessel engaged in the inhuman trade, and sold into slavery.
"Faint, gazing on the dying orb of day,As Afric's injured son expiring lay,His forehead cold and laboring bosom bare,His dewy temples, and his sable hair,His poor companions wept, and cried aloud,Rejoicing, while his head in peace he bowed,'Now, thy long, long task is done!Swiftly, brother, wilt thou run,Ere to-morrow's golden beam,Glitters in thy parent stream,Swiftly the delights to share,The feast of joy that waits thee there.Swiftly, brother, wilt thou glideO'er the long and stormy tide,Fleeter than the hurricane,Till thou see those scenes again,Where thy father's hut was reared;Where thy infant brothers played'Neath the fragrant citron's shade,Where, through green savannas wide?Cooling rivers silent glide,And the shrill cigarras singCeaseless to their murmuring."'Where the dance and festive songOf many a friend divided long,Doomed through strangers' lands to roam,Shall bid thy spirit welcome home!Then fear no more the tyrant's power!Past is his insulting hour!Mark no more the sullen traitOn slavery's brow of scorn and hate;Hear no more the long sigh borneMurmuring on the gales of morn.Yet we remain, far distant,Toiling on in pain and want.When the great sun fires the skies,To our work of woe we rise"'And see each night without a friend,The world's great comforter descend.Tell our brethren when ye meet,Thus we toil with weary feet;Tell them, that love's gen'rous flame,In joy, in wretchedness the same,In distant lands was ne'er forgot;And tell them that we murmur not.Tell them though the pang will startAnd drain the lifeblood from the heart,Tell them generous shame forbidsThe tear to stain our burning lids;Tell them in weariness and wantFor our native hills we pant,Where soon from shame and sorrow free,We hope in death to follow thee.'"
"Faint, gazing on the dying orb of day,As Afric's injured son expiring lay,His forehead cold and laboring bosom bare,His dewy temples, and his sable hair,His poor companions wept, and cried aloud,Rejoicing, while his head in peace he bowed,'Now, thy long, long task is done!Swiftly, brother, wilt thou run,Ere to-morrow's golden beam,Glitters in thy parent stream,Swiftly the delights to share,The feast of joy that waits thee there.Swiftly, brother, wilt thou glideO'er the long and stormy tide,Fleeter than the hurricane,Till thou see those scenes again,Where thy father's hut was reared;Where thy infant brothers played'Neath the fragrant citron's shade,Where, through green savannas wide?Cooling rivers silent glide,And the shrill cigarras singCeaseless to their murmuring.
"'Where the dance and festive songOf many a friend divided long,Doomed through strangers' lands to roam,Shall bid thy spirit welcome home!Then fear no more the tyrant's power!Past is his insulting hour!Mark no more the sullen traitOn slavery's brow of scorn and hate;Hear no more the long sigh borneMurmuring on the gales of morn.Yet we remain, far distant,Toiling on in pain and want.When the great sun fires the skies,To our work of woe we rise
"'And see each night without a friend,The world's great comforter descend.Tell our brethren when ye meet,Thus we toil with weary feet;Tell them, that love's gen'rous flame,In joy, in wretchedness the same,In distant lands was ne'er forgot;And tell them that we murmur not.Tell them though the pang will startAnd drain the lifeblood from the heart,Tell them generous shame forbidsThe tear to stain our burning lids;Tell them in weariness and wantFor our native hills we pant,Where soon from shame and sorrow free,We hope in death to follow thee.'"
Most of the productions of the tropics are found in the Zambesi region. The constant insurrections and disturbances among the native tribes have tended to keep the country from being extensively cultivated.
The animals of this section are very similar to those of South America. The trade in ivory is large. Vast quantities are exported from the west and east coasts.
The mineral wealth is considerable. There are extensive coal fields, and gold has been found near Tete and Senna.
Livingstone relates that when he visited a hot spring near the Zambesi, he found the valleys near Tete very fruitful and well cultivated.
The whole country lying north and northwest of Tete is hilly. These hills are covered with trees, and present a very picturesque scene. It was in this neighborhood that he found evidences of extensive coal mines, which he felt sure could be worked with little labor and at little cost.
While in the vicinity of the hot spring he availed himself of the opportunity of visiting some former gold washing localities. The banks of the rivulet were covered with large groves of fine mango trees. The Portuguese used to live among these trees while they kept supervision over the natives engaged in the gold washing.
The process of washing the sand of the rivulet was hard and very tedious; for the gold was found in minute scales, like mica.
Towards the west various gold washing stations were pointed out to Livingstone. One station, where gold had been found more abundantly than in any other locality, was supposed by some to be the "Ophir of King Solomon."
He saw at this station gold flakes as large as grains of wheat. He found that the natives would wash for gold only when in need of a little calico.
He was very sure that they knew the value of the gold, for they brought it for sale, packed in goose quills, and demanded twenty-four yards of cloth in exchange for a quill.
They were not unaware of the advantages of this section, for when the waters of the river overflow, they leave a coating of mud upon the banks, and the natives quickly noticed which spots dried soonest, and would begin to dig there, in the firm belief that the gold lay in these spots.
They had a superstition that if they dug deeper than their chins the ground would fall in and kill them.
When they found a piece of gold,—literally a flake,—it was their custom to bury it again. This was due to a superstition that it was the seed of the gold. The value of the flake they knew very well, but they preferred to lose this seed rather than a full crop in the future.
It would be interesting to read more of Livingstone's stories of the Zambesi, but we must pass on to other topics.
The deserts of South Africa, which include the great Kalahari, are, strictly speaking, savannas.
This section of what we might term semi-deserts lies between 20° and 30° south latitude. It is aboutone thousand miles long and seven hundred miles wide. The great Kalahari Desert is in the center of this vast area. Naturally, we should look for a variety of physical features in so vast a territory.
On its outer edges the desert tract of South Africa consists of broad plains. These are intersected by rugged, though not very lofty, mountains.
During the wet season these plains are covered with a rich, succulent herbage. This disappears, however, in the dry season. Under the scorching heat it is literally burned off, and leaves the ground parched and dusty.
At intervals in this territory may be found vast tracts overgrown with low bushes covered with thorns. These thorny bushes grow in such dense masses that the traveler is compelled to cut his way through them.
The colonists of South Africa give the name "Wait-a-bit" to this bush. Its short, hooked thorns check the progress of the traveler and compel him to wait a bit at almost every step he takes in advance.
Andersson, an early explorer, once came upon a forest of thornless trees in this section. In his journal he describes his feelings at the sight: "I do not think that I was ever so surprised in my life. I hesitated to trust my senses. Even the dull faces of my attendants seemed to relax from their usual heavy, unintelligent cast, and to express joy at the novel scene."
The climate is characterized by a brief wet season, when the rain falls in torrents. This season is succeeded by months of complete drought. During these droughts water can be found only in solitary fountains,appearing at rare intervals, or in a few stagnant pools.
Accounts of travelers are filled with the record of suffering that has been endured in this region, by man and beast, just from the lack of water.
Although this country may seem uninviting in many respects, yet to the sportsman it seems a veritable paradise. In no other section of the globe has he so many species of large game to choose from.
South Africa is like a vast zoölogical garden. Here are found the giraffe, the gigantic wild boar, the clumsy hippopotamus, and the rhinoceros. Leopards and hyenas seek their prey here among the many species of the antelope family.
Lions lurk on every side. Elephants haunt the lonely pools, where they seek to quench their thirst.
Ostriches, zebras, deer, springboks, and many other animals, the names of which we do not find in any zoölogy, make their home here.
Naturally, with so much animal life to be supported, there must be the need of vegetable growth.
The beasts of prey find no difficulty in appeasing their hunger; but the animals of the grazing families would fare badly, had not Nature provided them with the proper instinct for seeking their food. This instinct leads them to wander far and wide wherever herbage is to be found.
The region forms so large a pasture ground that it would be unlikely that the whole expanse would suffer from drought at any one time.
As the deer and the antelope families wander insearch of fresh pasturage, the beasts of prey, eager for their food, follow in their wake.
In this peculiar region, nature has provided several plants especially adapted to the limitations of the soil. These plants seem to store up food, and even water, under what seems to be the dry sand of this sterile tract.
One such plant has a low stalk not much larger than the quill of a crow's feather. This plant sends its roots down into the sandy soil. At a depth of one or two feet the root expands into a tuber. This tuber is about the size of a small melon. It consists of a mass of watery, cellular tissue, much like a young turnip.
Another variety of plant is a low creeper. It expands into a cluster of tuberous roots. Some of these tubers are as large as a man's head. The clusters sometimes measure a yard in diameter.
A native searching for one of these clusters pounds the ground with stones, till a hollow sound indicates the spot where he will find the prize.
Many of the animals dig away the sand with their sharp hoofs from these spots, which instinct teaches them to find, just as the reindeer finds the moss of the Arctic regions buried beneath the snow.
A kind of gourd grows in great abundance, covering large tracts. Both men and animals are very fond of it.
One traveler relates that in crossing the desert, during the season for these gourds, he found them in great abundance. So numerous, in fact, were they, that he and his cattle lived on them for three weeks. Duringthis interval no water was to be had. When a supply of water was reached, all seemed to have lost their liking for it.
Another variety of gourd seeks the low sand hills. It has a fruit about the size of a turnip. The outside of this fruit is of a greenish yellow; the inside is of a deep orange color.
In the neighborhood of Walfish Bay man and beast live upon this gourd almost exclusively for three months in the year.
The seeds of this plant look and taste something like an almond. When the season of the fruit is over, the seeds, which have been carefully gathered, dried, and preserved, are used for food.
Geologists are of the opinion that by boring deep enough in almost any section of this semi-desert territory of South Africa water might be found.
The rainfall in the wet season is very great. Scarcely any of this rainfall finds an outlet through the rivers.
Much of it must sink down through the sand till it reaches beds of clay or strata of rock. Here the water would be held as in a basin, and man, by digging, could obtain it.
Wherever subterranean supplies of water are to be found there are possibilities for the fertilization of the soil.
The perforating of the arid plains of South Africa with artesian wells would soon transform them into luxuriant gardens.
In the Kalahari, pits of slight depth are not unfrequently found. These contain water throughout theyear, unless there have been two successive years of drought.
The natives hide these pits with the utmost precaution. Sometimes they fill them with loose sand and build a fire over them. This is to mislead any one searching for water. One would scarcely expect to find water under a heap of ashes.
When the natives build their huts, they are careful to locate them at some distance from these hidden mines of liquid treasure.
It is a curious sight to see the women of a village start out from their huts for a supply of water. Their water vessels are a string of ostrich eggshells, with a small hole in the end of each shell.
The women make use of a reed for drawing water. This is nearly a yard long, and has a bunch of grass fastened to the end.
The reed, with its bunch of grass, is sunk down through the sand. The sand is then packed closely around it.
Placing her mouth at the upper end of the reed, the woman who wishes to fill her shells makes a vacuum in the sponge-like bunch of grass by sucking through the reed. The water from the pit flows into the grassy sponge, thence up through the reed into the mouth, when, by a dexterous movement, it is thrown into the water vessels.
The women are very skillful in the use of this primitive pump, and it answers very well for water at so little depth.
Livingstone believed that water existed in the Kalahariat no great depth below the surface. He reasoned from these circumstances: For two successive seasons there had been an extreme drought. During neither of these droughts had more than five inches of rain fallen. Everything was parched. The ground was so hot that if beetles were placed upon it, they were killed in a few seconds, as if they had been placed upon a sheet of hot iron. He noticed that a certain species of ants which always dig their tunnels deep into the ground, did not seem affected by the heat. He opened some of their chambers, curious to learn the reason, and invariably found that the walls were moist.
The inhabitants of this territory are of varied character. Many of them are of the very lowest types of mankind. Others are far superior, and seem susceptible to civilization and education.
In their home life they cultivate their garden patches with a great deal of care and no little skill. They rear small herds of goats, though often forced to dig water for them by the spoonful, as we might say.
In their way they are keen traders. Their trade, though primitive, answers all their needs. They barter the skins of animals that they have slain, for spears, knives, tobacco, and other articles.
Livingstone, in his travels across the Kalahari, speaks of the hot wind which blows over the desert from north to south occasionally. This wind feels as if it came from an oven. Fortunately, it rarely lasts longer than three days. It resembles the harmattan of North Africa.
Many years ago, when missionaries first entered thecountry, this wind came loaded with fine reddish sand.
Now it does not come laden with sand, but it is so drying in its effects as to shrink even the best seasoned English wood. Hence all wooden articles become warped.
This wind comes strongly charged with electricity. A bunch of ostrich feathers held for a few seconds against it becomes charged as if by an electrical machine. If one should grasp the bunch, it would give forth a sharp, crackling sound.
Livingstone noticed this electrical state of the atmosphere when traveling in a wagon with one of the native chiefs. The fur of the chief's mantle became, through a slight friction, quite luminous. Livingstone rubbed it smartly with his hand, and found it gave out quite bright sparks, with distinct crackling noises.
Turning to the chief, Livingstone said, "Do you see this?" His reply was, "The white man did not show us this; we had it long before white men came into the country,—we and our forefathers of old."
The Orange River flows through South Africa. It rises in theMont aux Sources, at an elevation of about ten thousand feet above sea level. It flows in a westerly direction for about one thousand miles, and enters the Atlantic Ocean.
It is a river of no special importance, and is of little value for any practical purposes of navigation.
It skirts the northern edge of Cape Colony throughout almost its entire course. It thus serves to separate this colony from the Orange River Free State and from the adjoining territories, occupied by various independent native tribes.
Orange River Free State was settled by the Dutch who had previously occupied Natal. When Great Britain established her rule, the Dutch boers, or colonists, migrated from their former home, and settled in the section now known as the Orange River Free State.
The Vaal, a tributary of the Orange River, skirts the northern edge of the State. The Orange River skirts its southern edge.
The Vaal River flows west, then bends a little to the south. The Orange River also flows west, but bends a little to the north.
As the two rivers sweep around, they inclose the Orange River Free State, not only forming its northern and southern boundaries, but turning their courses so as to unite about midway on the western border. Under the name of the Orange River, the united streams flow west, along the northern edge of Cape Colony and the southern edge of Great Namaqua Land, to the Atlantic Ocean.
The Orange River Free State may be called the connecting link between Cape Colony, the Transvaal Republic, and Natal. The total area of the State is estimated above fifty thousand square miles.
A SCENE IN THE DRACHENBERG MOUNTAINS.A SCENE IN THE DRACHENBERG MOUNTAINS.
The whole region drained by the Orange River may be considered as a vast plateau, which rises from three thousand to five thousand feet above the level of the sea. Very little woodland is to be found except along the banks of the river and its tributaries.
That portion of the country which comprises the Orange River Free State is diversified by vast undulating plains. These slope from one of the mountain systems down to the Vaal River. They are dotted at intervals by rocky hills.
On the east and southeast the Drachenberg Mountains form a natural barrier between this section and the coast regions.
The northern part of the State is very level. Hundreds of square miles of territory are to be found with scarcely a break in the horizon.
In strong contrast to the northern sections are those of the eastern part of the State.
If we should cross the State from Cape Colony to Natal, we should arrive at the summit of the passes that lead to the latter colony without finding a single mountain in sight. Suddenly, an advance of a step or two would bring us to the edge of an immense mountain chasm. At its foot, nearly a thousand feet below us, we should perceive the coast region stretching out towards the Indian Ocean.
When the Dutch took possession of the Orange River Free State, it was inhabited by different native tribes. Most of these have been driven off to other sections, just as the Indians of America have been driven out by the white man to seek new hunting grounds. A few of the more powerful tribes, however, still dispute the possession of the soil with the settlers.
All the rivers of the State belong to the Orange River system. Many of them have distinctly Dutch names. In fact, the whole State bears abundant evidence of the presence and personality of the colonists. It is rather curious that they have had to wrest their land from the hands of native tribes, or have had to struggle with foreign powers, just as their ancestors had to wrest Holland from the grasp of Old Father Ocean, or engage in a war with other nations, that looked with longing on the little country of dykes and ditches.
The history of the struggles of the colonists is an interesting one. We are led to wonder if the Dutch nation must always struggle for the possession of any land it may wish to occupy, whether in the Netherlands or in the Dark Continent.
In the early days of colonization vast herds of the larger varieties of antelopes roamed over the great plain of the State; most of them have disappeared as man has invaded their grazing places.
Interest has centered about the Orange River Free State, owing to the discovery of diamonds here, and in Griqualand, a narrow strip of land bounding it upon the west. It will be interesting to view these diamond sections later on in our reading.
The Senegal River rises not very far from the source of the Niger, at the extreme west of the so-called Kong Mountains. It flows first northwest and then west, and loses itself in the Atlantic Ocean a little north of Cape Verd.
The length of the river has been estimated as upwardsof eleven hundred miles. The last seven or eight hundred miles are navigable only for flat-bottomed boats. In fact, here and there throughout its whole course, the navigation of the river is frequently interrupted by cataracts, shoals, and rocks.
The banks of the river are covered with verdure, and in some sections with timber. In the lower part of its course the river is dotted with numerous islands. These are usually large, well cultivated, and fertile.
The entrance to the river is somewhat difficult, owing to the breakers and to the existence of a sandbar. In dry weather this bar has been known to be covered by only eight or nine feet of water.
The Gambia is a smaller stream than the Senegal, flowing about in the same direction and through the same section of country. Its length is estimated at about one thousand miles. The mouth of the river is about four miles broad. Just before the river reaches the sea its current is fully double its width at the mouth.
The river is navigable for vessels of one hundred and fifty tons as far as the town of Barraconda. This town is situated on the right bank of the stream, about two hundred miles from the sea. The river enters the sea a little to the south of Cape Verd.
The Senegal and Gambia drain the tract of country named, most appropriately, Senegambia. It is a large maritime tract, bounded on the north and west by the Sahara and the Soudan, on the south by Sierra Leone, and on the west by the Atlantic Ocean.
Between the two rivers, which are two hundred andfifty miles apart, there are no very important water-courses. Between the Gambia and the frontier of Sierra Leone there is but one stream of any size, the Rio Grande.
The coast of Senegambia is deeply indented by various arms of the sea, which resemble somewhat the estuaries of rivers.
The country forms the western and northern slope of the Kong plateau. Portions of it are still but partially explored.
The soil of Senegambia differs widely. On the coast we find either low, flat, alluvial plains, or an undulating country broadening to the north. In the northern frontier this tract merges into the Sahara. In the interior the plateau rises from the coast plains in a series of mountainous terraces, and finally loses itself in the Kong Mountains. The loftiest elevations of the soil are only a little more than three thousand feet.
Strictly speaking, the country is divided into three sections, High, Middle, and Low Senegambia. High Senegambia lies to the north of the Senegal and is inhabited chiefly by the Moors. Middle Senegambia is the section along the borders of the Senegal. It is inhabited chiefly by negroes, who divide themselves into numerous tribes. The climate of this section is extremely hot and in the marshy districts it is very unhealthy. The soil is fertile, and yields the usual productions of the hot regions of Africa. Lower Senegambia includes the sections bordering on the Gambia.
As a country, Senegambia has a most luxuriant vegetation. The monkey bread tree is characteristic of the country. It is considered the most enormous tree uponthe globe, and while other trees may surpass it in height none equal it in the size of its gigantic trunk and limbs. Specimens have been found measuring sixty, seventy-five, and even a hundred feet in circumference.
While the native population of Senegambia consists of negroes of various types, European nations are well represented. The British have a number of settlements along the banks of the Gambia. Along the banks of the Senegal are various French settlements. Scattered along the rivers at various points are numerous small factories managed by the Portuguese.
The chief commercial products of Senegambia consist of gum, beeswax, ivory, bark, and hide.
The Congo River flows into the Gulf of Guinea and is a most magnificent river, more wonderful in some respects than the Nile. It is the only one of the large rivers of Africa which has anything approaching an estuary; all the others having delta mouths. So great is the volume of water which it discharges at its mouth, that forty miles out at sea its water is only partially mingled with that of the Atlantic, while nine miles from the coast the water is perfectly fresh.
The Congo River was for many years a veritable Will-o'-the-wisp to explorers. Its identity was lostso many times, that the geographers looked upon the course of this river as one of the greatest problems connected with the study of Africa they had ever been called upon to solve.
The Congo has a length of more than three thousand miles. The maritime region of the Congo River basin is restricted in its character. For a few miles inward the ground has an upward slope; then the traveler is confronted by ridge upon ridge of hills, which gradually assume the character of high mountains.
The Congo rushes on through this mountainous section, as though through one of our western cañons, till it reaches Stanley Pool. Here the channel becomes much broader, the stream attaining a width of five miles, with an extraordinary depth of water. As the river spreads itself to attain this breadth, it flows placidly on through fertile plains, rich in vegetation.
Geographers have, for convenience, divided the river into well-defined sections, the Upper and the Lower Congo.
The Lower Congo has a length of about three hundred and thirty miles. It is the part of the river between Leopoldville—situated on the banks of Stanley Pool—and the sea and has a navigable current for about one hundred miles, between Vivi and the sea. Above Vivi the river for about fifty miles is lined on either side by high slate cliffs. These tend, of course, to narrow the channel. It is in this section that the Lower Livingstone Falls occur, and prevent navigation.
For a distance of about ninety miles above these falls the course of the river is somewhat broken, but it becomesnavigable as far as Manyanka. Here the Upper Livingstone Falls are situated, and the river again becomes unnavigable.
The Upper Congo starts at Stanley Pool, and as far as Stanley Falls—a distance of over one thousand miles—has a navigable current. It is, in fact, the grand highway for commerce right into the heart of Africa.
From Stanley Falls to Nyangwé, a distance of nearly four hundred miles, the river has a more or less broken current.
Between Nyangwé and Lake Moero there is still another stretch of four hundred miles.
More than two hundred miles from Lake Moero lies Lake Bangweolo, or Bemba. At a distance of nearly four hundred miles from Bemba the Congo, under the name of the Chambesi, takes its rise.
During Dr. Livingstone's explorations to discover the sources of the Nile and to penetrate the secrets of the lake region of Africa, he became much interested in the course of the Chambesi, which he thought, at first, might be one section of the Zambesi. The names seemed to him somewhat similar in sound, and he decided to make an exploration of the stream.
Later, he became convinced that it was not a part of the Zambesi, but he was firmly impressed that its identity with the Lualaba could be established.
Many years of his life were devoted to the study of the Lualaba and the great system of inland lakes of Africa.
Just as the whole of the civilized world lookedeagerly for more definite information of Livingstone's success, all news of him ceased. Much anxiety for his safety and welfare was felt. Months of weary waiting brought at last only the most conflicting reports. Finally the news of his death was received.
This was sad news for the world to believe. Determined to know, if possible, more definitely the fate of this intrepid explorer, those who were most interested sent out relief parties in search of him.
As a final result of all this intense interest, Mr. Henry Stanley was appointed commander of the celebrated expedition which afterwards penetrated into the interior of Africa. The expedition had for its chief object the finding of Livingstone, if he were living. If his life had been sacrificed in the interests of science, the mission of the expedition was to discover his resting place, and the journals and letters that he must have left as a priceless legacy to the world.
The thrilling incidents of Stanley's labor of love, the accounts of the hardships, privations, and stirring adventures, as he relates them in his journals are intensely interesting.
Impressed by the results of Livingstone's work, Stanley followed the Lualaba River from the point where Livingstone's investigations had ceased, and named it the Livingstone, in honor of the great explorer.
Through Stanley's efforts, the identity of the Chambesi, the Lualaba, and the Congo was fully established.
It seems unfortunate that the name Lualaba—which translated means "mother of waters"—could not have been retained throughout the entire course of the stream.It was a name which, to Livingstone, seemed most appropriate for the wonderful river whose course he had delighted to trace.
Stanley's work was a magnificent proof of what intrepid courage and grand enthusiasm can accomplish. In one expedition after another he completed the discoveries of other explorers, penetrated the mysteries of the lake region and revealed its secrets, explored the very heart of Africa, and traced the course of that wonderful river, Livingstone's Lualaba, till it reached the sparkling waters of the South Atlantic.
The Congo has several large affluents. On the south we find the Kiva, into which a most noble river, the Kasai, flows; the Lulongo, which flows through a densely populated region; and the Ruki River, on the mouth of which Equatorville has been built.
On the north bank of the river we find such tributaries as the Mobangi, the most important of all the rivers flowing into the main stream; for it drains, by means of its multitude of head streams, the whole of the region that lies between the Congo and the equatorial provinces of Egypt. The Itimbiri is another river flowing into the Congo from the north. It enters the river just where the stream attains its greatest breadth. About one hundred and fifty miles below Stanley Falls, the waters of the Aruwimi enter the Congo to swell its current.
Stanley estimated the population of the Upper Congo basin at forty-three millions. Other explorers testify to the dense population and to the extent of the villages, as they are termed.
One writer tells of the great astonishment he felt at the length of these villages. It was no uncommon thing to find five and six miles of continuous street.
An Arab guide told Stanley that he had sometimes been two hours in passing through some of these villages. An eminent German explorer states that in one section of the country an almost unbroken line of huts and structures stretches along the established caravan route.
The people are often barbarous to strangers, yet it is possible to approach them by means of trade. They are very keen to take advantage of the trader who offers the goods of the white man in exchange for the articles they have to barter.
Stanley wrote a detailed account of his explorations in this region under the title "Across the Dark Continent." The book was eagerly read, and had a great influence upon the civilized world at the time of its publication.
The most noticeable result was the establishment of missions, not only along the Congo, but around LakeVictoria and Lake Tanganyika, and even in West, East, and Central Africa.
Travelers from France, Portugal, and Germany, fired with enthusiasm, set out to explore these vast regions; and, as a result, most of the European nations became interested in making as many annexations as they could to their possessions in Africa.
As a direct result of all this great interest, the savage tribes that infest the region of the Upper Congo were brought into a state of semi-civilization, and to the point where they would show, if not a friendly, at least a reasonably tolerant spirit towards the white man.
The aim of the missionaries was to bring the minds of these poor savages from the darkness, of ignorance, superstition, and idolatry into the light of Christianity, to show them the benefits of peace, the advantages of trade, and the results of an intercourse with the world of civilization.
Above all other objects that the hearts of the missionaries held sacred was the abolition of the slave trade, which, with all its attendant horrors, was the destruction of the people.
The enormity of the African slave trade was not over-estimated. The Arabs made it their special occupation to deal in what was known as the "ebony trade." Under the pretext of searching for ivory, they perpetrated the most cruel and heartless deeds.
Without a thought of the poor savages, they kept up a system of slaughter that knew no mercy, and drained the very life blood of the people of Central Africa.
Even from a selfish point of view, the white man sawit was for his advantage to destroy the slave trade. How could he be expected to advance into the heart of Africa without the aid of the strong, able-bodied natives? With the depopulation of the country, too, the well-worn, beaten tracks, the shady groves of banana trees, the broad fields of waving grain would disappear, and only devastation and ruin remain, as distressing pictures in this now fertile section.
The white man saw only too plainly that the slave trade did not affect the negro alone, but that it affected the loss or the profit of the whole civilized world. What availed it that the riches of Central Africa were apparently inexhaustible, if the native tribes were not left to help gather them?
We can form some estimate of the cruel work of the Arab slave traders from the account of it given by one author. In his book, "The Arab in Central Africa," he describes the destructive work of an Arab caravan. In the course of eleven months, not only had they pillaged an extent of country containing some thirty thousand square miles, but they had secured nearly twenty-five thousand captives. Nor was this the extent of their cruel work; for, during that time, they destroyed upwards of one hundred villages, and killed about four thousand of the inhabitants.
As this was the fifth caravan which had hunted this territory over, it was estimated that no less than thirty thousand lives had been sacrificed to secure a comparatively small number of slaves.
Another writer declares that it was no unusual thing for four hundred thousand slaves to be brought intomarket in the course of a single year, while as many as two million lives were sacrificed in order to bring these slaves to the coast for trading purposes.
Stanley, in his journey through Manyema, was impressed by the extreme fertility of the section and by the numerous villages, as he traversed the country from Tanganyika to Nyangwé. A few months later the whole country presented the distressing pictures of depopulation and devastation.
The region of Tanganyika Lake was considered a high road by caravans. Professor Drummond, in his interesting book, gives a description of the crafty Arab, who would sometimes settle in a well-favored spot for a year, or even longer. Here, he would accumulate immense quantities of ivory, until his money was exhausted. Then, on some slight pretext, he would engage in a quarrel with one or two of the natives. He would soon be pined by his friends, all well armed. The quarrel would become general, and would assume the character of a general massacre. Villages would then be burned, homes laid waste, and the strongest, ablest natives spared only to serve as beasts of burden to transport the tons of ivory to the coast. Here, when his load of ivory had been sold, the wily Arab traded off his "ebony" to the masters of slaving vessels.
In view of such facts, it is not surprising that representatives of different European nations formed "The International Association of the Congo." Its objects were threefold: philanthropic, scientific, and commercial.
We have seen the need of a spirit of philanthropyand the object of the missionaries in dealing with the tribes of the Congo River basin. Science was now to be advanced by means of surveys of the river basin; for this would reveal the physical features of the country, its natural facilities, and its wealth of productions. The interests of commerce were also to be considered and extended.
First, an outlet was to be provided for the great wealth of the interior of Africa, and an opening made for trade in the manufactures of all Europe. Second, roads and bridges were to be built, settlements were to be formed, and land cultivated. Third, hostile tribes were to be brought into harmony; a main road was to be established, not only for the transportation of goods, but to open a means of communication with the many Congo tribes, and gradually to bring them into a state of civilization.
Stanley was offered the important position of director of the expedition which the association sent out. He sailed for the Congo, after leaving Zanzibar, by way of the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, landing at Banana Point, which is at the mouth of the river.
The Congo, as far as Ponta de Lenha, or Wood Point, at a distance of thirty-four miles from Banana Point, is navigable by large seagoing steamers. Above thisplace the river grows rapidly shallow. Though shallow at any time, its waters become very much affected during the change of seasons.
The next important settlement beyond Wood Point is Boma. This, like Banana Point, is a great factory town. Numerous warehouses, belonging to English, Dutch, French, and Portuguese trading companies, comprise its main features.
These different companies own many steamers, both large and small. The small steamers are for river traffic; the large ones ply between Europe and the coast. Stanley found these steamers a frequent feature in the rather monotonous scene; for, at the time of his arrival on the west coast, the Lower Congo, between Banana Point and Boma, had all the bustling appearance of a mercantile river of some importance.
Boma is a most attractive spot in the landscape of this vast region, which stretches far and wide. To the north rise the ridges of a long, uneven mass of hills. Against the background of sultry sky they look cool and beautiful in their blue coloring, seen through the hazy distance. Southward lies a miniature repetition of these hills. In the foreground and midway in the picture, the mighty Congo sweeps towards one on the left, away from one on the right. Silently, steadily, with even pace, it moves onward to the sea.
After a rainy season the whole country rejoices in a carpet of velvety green; a few months later, and the relentless rays of a tropical sun scorch leaf and blade to a dreary waste in the landscape.
Then the earth, dry as tinder, offers an inviting fieldfor the bush fires, which, departing, leave as a legacy only burning embers, where once flourished the brilliant flowers, dense underbrush, and verdant grasses of a tropical world.
But these are not the only features to be found in this section to-day. Here may be seen machine shops ringing with the clang of busy workmen, iron sheds, and coal yards. Here, too, is a whole settlement of European houses, and a small town of huts, which serve as the dwellings of the native workmen. Situated on an elevated, airy site, a large, handsomely designed hospital greets the eye. While, as a crowning feature, a strong, substantial iron pier extends far out into the river.
Thus can we get some little idea of what the energy and the perseverance of the white man have accomplished within the last few years.
About forty miles from Boma the Congo suddenly changes its character, and temporarily becomes a veritable Colorado River. Madly, tempestuously, it rushes downward in its course, through a canon of bold, bare rocks, which tend to form a succession of falls and rapids. The foot of this canon forms a natural limit to navigation from the sea. Hence, all goods for the upper river stations have to be carried overland.
It was at this point that Stanley formed his first settlement. Just at the foot of the rapids, on the right bank of the river, the mountain of Vivi rises. About three hundred and fifty feet above the river, on an irregular plateau of the mountain, Stanley set to work.
First of all, the plateau was leveled, the immenserocks that reared their heads here and there were ground to pieces and used for road and house foundations. A road was built from the narrow beach to the selected site. Several houses were built, not only for the representatives of European nations, but for the natives also. Last but not least, a large garden was made by transporting the rich soil of the valley and filling in a tract previously excavated for the purpose.
This garden in a short time became a source of rest and enjoyment to the white residents at the station. It was the only spot on the bare and sterile hills where a particle of shade could be found from the glaring heat of the sun.
Stanley's great success in all his expeditions was due to the fact that he believed in the nobility of labor. It is interesting to learn that, during the work of founding the settlement, Stanley showed such skill in pulverizing the scattered rocks with his sledge hammer as to earn the name of Stone-breaker from the native chiefs. He soon became known by this title among all the tribes dwelling upon the Congo.
At the end of three months the settlement at Vivi was completed. Leaving an American, Mr. Sparhawk, in charge, Stanley proceeded to Isangila. His object was to discover in which direction to build the projected road.
From Vivi to Isangila, we must remember, the river is unnavigable. The numerous cataracts and rapids of Livingstone Falls make a formidable obstruction. Isangila lies about fifty miles from Vivi. The interlying country is of an exceedingly rocky, rugged character.
The well-worn roads of the natives led, as is the custom, up and down the hills and valleys. "Straight as Roman roads," it was not possible for a wagon road to be laid over such ground.
After much planning and arduous labor a road was completed to Isangila. From this point, goods brought overland from Vivi could be transported by boats launched upon the river. Then, with the exception of the upper Livingstone Falls, the wide stretches of the Congo from Isangila to the foot of Stanley Falls formed a natural highway, which required only navigation.
Stanley's journal gives many details of the work of building the road from Vivi to Isangila. This road, which was fifteen feet broad, took a year to complete, but when finished it was a masterpiece. So strong was it, that heavy wagons, even when laden with steamers, launches, and boats, could safely travel over it.
Just above the cataracts, which mark the sudden decline from Stanley Pool to the river current, the settlement of Leopoldville was founded on the southern bank of the stream. It has an excellent situation on the northwest corner of the pool which serves as the connecting link between the Lower and Upper Congo.
On a piece of lofty ground, sloping down to the river and overlooking Kintamo Bay, Stanley decided to clear a site and begin to build.
Upon a long, wide terrace, which he cut out of the hillside, various buildings were erected. The largest house and all the headquarters were stoutly built of wood, and then plastered over with clay to the depth of two feet. This was to insure a fort in case ofsubsequent hostilities, when a garrison would be needed.
A little distance off the native village was built. Its proportions were considerable, as it had to accommodate upwards of one hundred and fifty natives.
The headquarters were commodious. They comprised five bedrooms, a large dining room, and a strong magazine. A large garden was laid out, and sheds and houses for live stock of various sorts were erected.
Petty acts of hostility committed by one of the native tribes occasioned much annoyance to the settlers. In order to preserve peace Stanley had resource to a rite known as blood brotherhood. He thus describes this curious performance, which he had frequently taken part in. The ceremony took place between Stanley and a native chief, Ngalyema.
"We crossed arms, an incision was made in each arm, some salt was placed on the wound, and then a mutual rubbing took place, while the great fetich man of Kintamo pronounced an inconceivable number of curses on my head if I ever proved false. Susi, formerly Livingstone's head man, not to be outdone by him, solicited the gods to visit unheard-of atrocious vengeances on Ngalyema if he dared to make the slightest breach in the sacred brotherhood, which made him and the Stone-breaker one and indivisible forever."
Stanley thus describes the town: "Leopoldville, with its one-story block house, commanding from its windows all approaches, impregnable to musket-armed natives, and proof against fire, despite its grass roof, because underneath that grass roof there was an earthroof two feet thick, on which fire might burn itself out harmlessly, offered a safe refuge, should trouble arise.
"The terrace was long and wide—the native village was formed of one broad street—flanked by a row of clay huts on either side. Slanting from a point thirty feet below the block house, and sloping gently down to the landing place, gardens of young bananas and vegetables extended beyond these huts. Water was handy, fuel was abundant."
From the summit of Leopold Hill, above the station, a most magnificent view lies before one. "The vast circle of water formed by Stanley Pool, the amphitheater of rocky mountains and lofty white cliffs, the large island of Bamu with many attendant satellites, combine to make a scene of a striking character."