AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

 BY THE SAME AUTHOR

 ADVENTURES IN INTERVIEWING

 PEACE AND BUSINESS

 S. O. S: AMERICAS'S MIRACLE IN FRANCE

 THE BUSINESS OF WAR

 THE REBIRTH OF RUSSIA

 THE WAR AFTER THE WAR

 LEONARD WOOD: PROPHET OF PREPAREDNESS

[Illustration: KING ALBERT]

 AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

 BY

 ISAAC F. MARCOSSON

AUTHOR OF "ADVENTURES IN INTERVIEWING, " ETC. 

 NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD

 MCMXXI

 COPYRIGHT · 1921 BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY

 COPYRIGHT · 1921 BY JOHN LANE COMPANY

 THE PLIMPTON PRESS NORWOOD · MASS · U·S·A

 _To_ THOMAS F. RYAN WHO FIRST BEHELD THE VISION OF AMERICA IN THE CONGO

FOREWORD

From earliest boyhood when I read the works of Henry M. Stanley andbooks about Cecil Rhodes, Africa has called to me. It was not until Imet General Smuts during the Great War, however, that I had a definitereason for going there. 

After these late years of blood and battle America and Europe seemedtame. Besides, the economic war after the war developed into a struggleas bitter as the actual physical conflict. Discord and discontent becamethe portion of the civilized world. I wanted to get as far as possiblefrom all this social unrest and financial dislocation. 

So much interest was evinced in the magazine articles which first setforth the record of my journey that I was prompted to expand them intothis book. It may enable the reader to discover a section of theone-time Dark Continent without the hardships which I experienced. 

 I. F. M. 

NEW YORK, _April, 1921_

CONTENTS

 CHAPTER PAGE

 I. SMUTS 15

 II. "CAPE-TO-CAIRO" 57

 III. RHODES AND RHODESIA 103

 IV. THE CONGO TODAY 139

 V. ON THE CONGO RIVER 177

 VI. AMERICA IN THE CONGO 225

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

 King Albert _Frontispiece_

 Groote Schuur _facing page_ 28

 General J. C. Smuts 44

 Mr. Marcosson's Route in Africa 56

 Cecil Rhodes 76

 The Premier Diamond Mine 90

 Victoria Falls 102

 Cultivating Citrus Land in Rhodesia 110

 The Grave of Cecil Rhodes 132

 A Katanga Copper Mine 138

 Lord Leverhulme 144

 Robert Williams 144

 On the Lualaba 150

 A View on the Kasai 150

 A Station Scene at Kongola 156

 A Native Market at Kindu 162

 Native Fish Traps at Stanley Falls 168

 The Massive Bangalas 176

 Congo Women in State Dress 176

 Central African Pygmies 182

 Women Making Pottery 190

 The Congo Pickaninny 190

 The Heart of the Equatorial Forest 198

 Natives Piling Wood 204

 A Wood Post on the Congo 204

 Residential Quarters at Alberta 210

 The Comte de Flandre 210

 A Typical Oil Palm Forest 216

 Bringing in the Palm Fruit 216

 A Specimen of Cicatrization 220

 A Sankuru Woman Playing Native Draughts 220

 The Belgian Congo 224

 Thomas F. Ryan 228

 Jean Jadot 236

 Emile Francqui 242

 A Belle of the Congo 246

 Women of the Batetelas 246

 Fishermen on the Sankuru 254

 The Falls of the Sankuru 254

 A Congo Diamond Mine 260

 How the Mines Are Worked 260

 Gravel Carriers at a Congo Mine 266

 Congo Natives Picking out Diamonds 266

 Washing out Gravel 272

 Donald Doyle and Mr. Marcosson 272

 The Park at Boma 278

 A Street in Matadi 278

 A General View of Matadi 282

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

AN AFRICAN ADVENTURE

CHAPTER I--SMUTS

I

Turn the searchlight on the political and economic chaos that hasfollowed the Great War and you find a surprising lack of realleadership. Out of the mists that enshroud the world welter only threecommanding personalities emerge. In England Lloyd George survives amidthe storm of party clash and Irish discord. Down in Greece Venizelos, despite defeat, remains an impressive figure of high ideals anduncompromising patriotism. Off in South Africa Smuts gives freshevidence of his vision and authority. 

Although he was Britain's principal prop during the years of agony anddisaster, Lloyd George is, in the last analysis, merely an eloquent andspectacular politician with the genius of opportunism. One reason why heholds his post is that there is no one to take his place, --anothercommentary on the paucity of greatness. There is no visible heir toVenizelos. Besides, Greece is a small country without internationaltouch and interest. Smuts, youngest of the trio, looms up as the mostbrilliant statesman of his day and his career has just entered upon anew phase. 

He is the dominating actor in a drama that not only affects the destinyof the whole British Empire, but has significance for every civilizednation. The quality of striking contrast has always been his. Theone-time Boer General, who fought Roberts and Kitchener twenty yearsago, is battling with equal tenacity for the integrity of the ImperialUnion born of that war. Not in all history perhaps, is revealed a morepicturesque situation than obtains in South Africa today. You have thewhole Nationalist movement crystallized into a single compellingepisode. In a word, it is contemporary Ireland duplicated withoutviolence and extremism. 

I met General Smuts often during the Great War. He stood out as the mostintellectually alert, and in some respects the most distinguished figureamong the array of nation-guiders with whom I talked, and I interviewedthem all. I saw him as he sat in the British War Cabinet when the Germanhosts were sweeping across the Western Front, and when the Germansubmarines were making a shambles of the high seas. I heard him speakwith persuasive force on public occasions and he was like a beacon inthe gloom. He had come to England in 1917 as the representative ofGeneral Botha, the Prime Minister of the Union of South Africa, toattend the Imperial Conference and to remain a comparatively short time. So great was the need of him that he did not go home until after thePeace had been signed. He signed the Treaty under protest because hebelieved it was uneconomic and it has developed into the irritant thathe prophesied it would be. 

In those war days when we foregathered, Smuts often talked of "the worldthat would be. " The real Father of the League of Nations idea, hebelieved that out of the immense travail would develop a largerfraternity, economically sound and without sentimentality. It was agreat and yet a practical dream. 

More than once he asked me to come to South Africa. I needed littleurging. From my boyhood the land of Cecil Rhodes has always held a lurefor me. Smuts invested it with fresh interest. So I went. 

The Smuts that I found at close range on his native heath, wearing themantle of the departed Botha, carrying on a Government with a minority, and with the shadow of an internecine war brooding on the horizon, wasthe same serene, clear-thinking strategist who had raised his voice inthe Allied Councils. Then the enemy was the German and the task was todestroy the menace of militarism. Now it was his own unreconstructedBoer--blood of his blood, --and behind that Boer the larger problem of arent and dissatisfied universe, waging peace as bitterly as it wagedwar. Smuts the dreamer was again Smuts the fighter, with the fight ofhis life on his hands. 

Thus it came about that I found myself in Capetown. Everybody goes outto South Africa from England on those Union Castle boats so familiar toall readers of English novels. Like the P. & O. Vessels that Kiplingwrote about in his Indian stories, they are among the favorite firstaids to the makers of fiction. Hosts of heroes in books--and some inreal life--sail each year to their romantic fate aboard them. 

It was the first day of the South African winter when I arrived, butback in America spring was in full bloom. I looked out on the same viewthat had thrilled the Portuguese adventurers of the fifteenth centurywhen they swept for the first time into Table Bay. Behind the harborrose Table Mountain and stretching from it downward to the sea was aland with verdure clad and aglare with the African sun that was toscorch my paths for months to come. 

Capetown nestles at the foot of a vast flat-topped mass of graniteunique among the natural elevations of the world. She is another meltingpot. Here mingle Kaffir and Boer, Basuto and Britisher, East Indian andZulu. The hardy rancher and fortune-hunter from the North Country rubshoulders with the globe-trotter. In the bustling streets moderntaxicabs vie for space with antiquated hansoms bearing names like "NeverSay Die, " "Home Sweet Home, " or "Honeysuckle. " All the horse-drawnpublic vehicles have names. 

You get a familiar feel of America in this South African country andespecially in the Cape Colony, which is a place of fruits, flowers andsunshine resembling California. There is the sense of newness in theatmosphere, and something of the abandon that you encounter among thepeople of Australia and certain parts of Canada. It comes from lifespent in the open and the spirit of pioneering that within acomparatively short time has wrested a huge domain from the savage. 

What strikes the observer at once is the sharp conflict of race, first, between black and white, and then, between Briton and Boer. South of theZambesi River, --and this includes Rhodesia and the Union of SouthAfrica, --the native outnumbers the white more than six to one and he isincreasing at a much greater rate than the European. Hence you have aninevitable conflict. Race lies at the root of the South African troubleand the racial reconciliation that Rhodes and Botha set their hopes uponremains an elusive quantity. 

I got a hint of what Smuts was up against the moment I arrived. I hadcabled him of my coming and he sent an orderly to the steamer with anote of welcome and inviting me to lunch with him at the House ofParliament the next day. In the letter, among other things he said: "Youwill find this a really interesting country, full of curious problems. "How curious they were I was soon to find out. 

I called for him at his modest book-lined office in a street behind theParliament Buildings and we walked together to the House. Heretofore Ihad only seen him in the uniform of a Lieutenant General in the BritishArmy. Now he wore a loose-fitting lounge suit and a slouch hat wasjammed down on his head. In the change from khaki to mufti--and few mencan stand up under this transition without losing some of the characterof their personal appearance, --he remained a striking figure. There issomething wistful in his face--an indescribable look that projectsitself not only through you but beyond. It is not exactly preoccupationbut a highly developed concentration. This look seemed to be enhanced bythe ordeal through which he was then passing. In his springy walk was asuggestion of pugnacity. His whole manner was that of a man in actionand who exults in it. Roosevelt had the same characteristic but hedisplayed it with much more animation and strenuosity. 

We sat down in the crowded dining room of the House of Parliament wherethe Prime Minister had invited a group of Cabinet Ministers and leadingbusiness men of Capetown. Around us seethed a noisy swirl whichreflected the turmoil of the South African political situation. Parliament had just convened after an historic election in which theNationalists, the bitter antagonists of Botha and Smuts, had elected amajority of representatives for the first time. Smuts was hanging on tothe Premiership by his teeth. A sharp division of vote, likely at anymoment, would have overthrown the Government. It meant a régime hostileto Britain that carried with it secession and the remote possibility ofcivil war. 

In that restaurant, as throughout the whole Union, Smuts was at thatmoment literally the observed of all observers. Far off in London thepowers-that-be were praying that this blonde and bearded Boer couldsuccessfully man the imperial breach. Yet he sat there smiling andunafraid and the company that he had assembled discussed a variety ofsubjects that ranged from the fall in exchange to the possibilities ofthe wheat crop in America. 

The luncheon was the first of various meetings with Smuts. Some wereamid the tumult of debate or in the shadow of the legislative halls, others out in the country at _Groote Schuur_, the Prime Minister'sresidence, where we walked amid the gardens that Cecil Rhodes loved, orsat in the rooms where the Colossus "thought in terms of continents. " Itwas a liberal education. 

Before we can go into what Smuts said during these interviews it isimportant to know briefly the whole approach to the crowded hour thatmade the fullest test of his resource and statesmanship. Clearly tounderstand it you must first know something about the Boer and his longstubborn struggle for independence which ended, for a time at least, inthe battle and blood of the Boer War. 

Capetown, the melting pot, is merely a miniature of the larger boilingcauldron of race which is the Union of South Africa. In America we alsohave an astonishing mixture of bloods but with the exception of theBolshevists and other radical uplifters, our population is loyallydedicated to the American flag and the institutions it represents. Withus Latin, Slav, Celt, and Saxon have blended the strain that proved itsmettle as "Americans All" under the Stars and Stripes in France. We havegiven succor and sanctuary to the oppressed of many lands and theseforeign elements, in the main, have not only been grateful but haveproved to be distinct assets in our national expansion. We are a mergedpeople. 

With South Africa the situation is somewhat different. The roots ofcivilization there were planted by the Dutch in the days of the DutchEast India Company when Holland was a world power. The Dutchman is atenacious and stubborn person. Although the Huguenots emigrated to theCape in considerable force in the seventeenth century and intermarriedwith the transplanted Hollanders, the Dutch strain, and with it theDutch characteristics predominated. They have shaped South Africanhistory ever since. This is why the Boer is still referred to in popularparlance as "a Dutchman. "

The Dutch have always been a proud and liberty-loving people, as theDuke of Alva and the Spaniard learned to their cost. This inheriteddesire for freedom has flamed in the hearts of the Boers. In the earlyAfrican day they preferred to journey on to the wild and unknown placesrather than sacrifice their independence. What is known as "The GreatTrek" of the thirties, which opened up the Transvaal and subsequentlythe Orange Free State and Natal, was due entirely to unrest among theCape Boers. There is something of the epic in the narrative of thosedoughty, psalm-singing trekkers who, like the Mormons in the AmericanWest, went forth in their canvas-covered wagons with a rifle in one handand the Bible in the other. They fought the savage, endured untoldhardships, and met fate with a grim smile on their lips. It took Britainnearly three costly years to subdue their descendants, an untrained armyof farmers. 

A revelation of the Boer character, therefore, is an index to the SouthAfrican tangle. His enemies call the Boer "a combination of cunning andchildishness. " As a matter of fact the Boer is distinct amongindividualists. "Oom Paul" Kruger was a type. A fairly familiar storywill concretely illustrate what lies within and behind the race. On oneoccasion his thumb was nearly severed in an accident. With hispocket-knife he cut off the finger, bound up the wound with a rag, andwent about his business. 

The old Boer--and the type survives--was a Puritan who loved hisfive-thousand-acre farm where he could neither see nor hear hisneighbors, who read the Good Word three times a day, drank prodigiousquantities of coffee, spoke "_taal_" the Dutch dialect, and reared ahuge family. Botha, for example, was one of thirteen children, and hisfather lamented to his dying day that he had not done his full duty byhis country!

Isolation was the Boer fetich. This instinct for aloofness, --principallyracial, --animates the sincere wing of the Nationalist Party today. Menlike Botha and Smuts and their followers adapted themselves toassimilation but there remained the "bitter-end" element that rebelledin arms against the constituted authority in 1914 and had to be put downwith merciless hand. This element now seeks to achieve through morepeaceful ends what it sought to do by force the moment Britain becameinvolved in the Great War. The reason for the revolt of 1914, in aparagraph, was Britain's far-flung call to arms. The unreconstructedBoers refused to fight for the Power that humbled them in 1902. Theyseized the moment to make a try for what they called "emancipation. "

To go back for a moment, when the British conquered the Cape andthousands of Englishmen streamed out to Africa to make their fortunes, the Boer at once bristled with resentment. His isolation was menaced. Heregarded the Briton as an "_Uitlander_"--an outsider--and treated him asan undesirable alien. In the Transvaal and the Orange Free State he wasdenied the rights that are accorded to law-abiding citizens in othercountries. Hence the Jameson Raid, which was an ill-starred protestagainst the narrow, copper-riveted Boer rule, and later the final andsanguinary show-down in the Boer War, which ended the dream of Boerindependence. 

In 1910 was established the Union of South Africa, comprising theTransvaal, the Orange Free State, Natal and the Cape Colony whichobtained responsible government and which is to all intents and purposesa dominion as free as Australia or Canada. England sends out aGovernor-General, usually a high-placed and titled person but he is abe-medalled figure-head, --an ornamental feature of the landscape. Hisprincipal labours are to open fairs, attend funerals, preside atharmless gatherings, and bestow decorations upon worthy persons. FirstBotha, and later Smuts, have been the real rulers of the country. 

The Union Constitution decreed that bi-lingualism must prevail. As aresult every public notice, document, and time-table is printed in bothEnglish and Dutch. The tie of language is a strong one and this eternaland unuttered presence of the "_taal_" has been an asset for theNationalists to exploit. It is a link with the days of independence. 

Following the Boer War came a sharp cleavage among the Boers. That greatfarm-bred soldier and statesman, Louis Botha, accepted the verdict andbecame the leader of what might be called a reconciled reconstruction. Firm in the belief that the future of South Africa was greater than thesmaller and selfish issue of racial pride and prejudice, he rallied hisopen-minded and far-seeing countrymen around him. Out of this groupdeveloped the South African Party which remains the party of the Dutchloyal to British rule. To quote the program of principles, "Itspolitical object is the development of a South African spirit ofnational unity and self-reliance through the attainment of the lastingunion of the various sections of the people. "

Botha was made Premier of the Transvaal as soon as the Colony wasgranted self-government and with the accomplishment of Union was namedPrime Minister of the Federation. The first man that he called to thestandard of the new order to become his Colonial Minister, or moretechnically, Minister of the Interior, was Smuts, who had left his lawoffice in Johannesburg to fight the English in 1900 and who displayedthe same consummate strategy in the field that he has since shown inCabinet meeting and Legislative forum. With peace he returned to law butnot for long. Now began his political career--he has held public officecontinuously ever since--that is a vital part of the modern history ofSouth Africa. 

In the years immediately following Union the genius of Botha had fullplay. He wrought a miracle of evolution. Under his influence the landwhich still bore the scars of war was turned to plenty. He was a farmerand he bent his energy and leadership to the rebuilding of the shatteredcommonwealths. Their hope lay in the soil. His right arm was Smuts, whobecame successively Minister of Finance and Minister of Public Defense. 

The belief that reconciliation had dawned was rudely disturbed when theGreat War crashed into civilization. The extreme Nationalists rebelledand it was Botha, aided by Smuts, who crushed them. Beyers, theringleader, was drowned while trying to escape across the Vaal River, DeWet was defeated in the field, De la Rey was accidentally shot, andMaritz became a fugitive. Botha then conquered the Germans in GermanSouth-West Africa and Smuts subsequently took over the command of theAllied Forces in German East Africa. When Botha died in 1919 Smuts notonly assumed the Premiership of the Union but he also inherited thebitter enmity that General J. B. M. Hertzog bore towards his lamentedChief. 

Now we come to the crux of the whole business, past and present. Who isHertzog and what does he stand for?

If you look at your history of the Boer War you will see that one of thefirst Dutch Generals to take the field and one of the last to leave itwas Hertzog, an Orange Free State lawyer who had won distinction on theBench. He helped to frame the Union Constitution and on the day hesigned it, declared that it was a distinct epoch in his life. A Boer ofthe Boers, he seemed to catch for the moment, the contagion thatradiated from Botha and spelled a Greater South Africa. 

Botha made him Minister of Justice and all was well. But deep down inhis heart Hertzog remained unrepentant. When the question of SouthAfrica's contribution to the Imperial Navy came up in 1912 he fought ittooth and nail. In fiery utterances attacking the Government hedenounced Botha as a jingoist and an imperialist. Just about this timehe made the famous speech in which he stated his ideal of South Africa. He declared that Briton and Boer were "two separate streams"--twonationalities each flowing in a separate channel. The "two streams"slogan is now the Nationalist battlecry. 

Such procedure on the part of Hertzog demanded prompt action on the partof Botha, who called upon his colleague either to suppress hisparticular brand of anathema or resign. Hertzog not only built a biggerbonfire of denunciation but refused to resign. 

Botha thereupon devised a unique method of ridding himself of hisuncongenial Minister. He resigned, the Government fell, and the Cabinetdissolved automatically. Hertzog was left out in the cold. TheGovernor-General immediately re-appointed Botha Prime Minister and hereorganized his Cabinet without the undesirable Hertzog. 

Hertzog became the Stormy Petrel of South Africa, vowing vengeanceagainst Botha and Britain. He galvanized the Nationalist Party, which upto this time had been merely a party of opposition, into what wasrapidly becoming a flaming secession movement. The South African Partydeveloped into the only really national party, while its opponent, although bearing the name of National, was solely and entirely racial. 

The first real test of strength was in the election of 1915. Thecampaign was bitter and belligerent. The venom of the Nationalist Partywas concentrated on Smuts. Many of his meetings became bloody riots. Hewas the target for rotten fruit and on one occasion an attempt was madeon his life. The combination of the Botha personality and the Smutscourage and reason won out and the South African Party remained inpower. 

Undaunted, Hertzog carried on the fight. He soon had the supremeadvantage of having the field to himself because Botha was off fightingthe Germans and Smuts had gone to England to help mould the Alliedfortunes. The Nationalist leader made hay while the red sun of warshone. Every South African who died on the battlefield was for him justanother argument for separation from England. 

When Ireland declared herself a "republic" Hertzog took the cue andcounted his cause in with that of the "small nations" that neededself-determination. "Afrika for the Afrikans, " the old motto of the_Afrikander Bond_, was unfurled from the masthead and the seditionspread. It not only recruited the Boers who had an ancient grievanceagainst Great Britain, but many others who secretly resented the Bothaand Smuts intimacy with "the conquerors. " Some were sons and grandsonsof the old "_Vortrekkers_, " who not only delighted to speak the "_taal_"exclusively but who had never surrendered the ideal of independence. 

While the Dutch movement in South Africa strongly resembles the Irishrebellion there are also some marked differences. In South Africa thereis no religious barrier and as a result there has been muchintermarriage between Briton and Boer. The English in South Africa bearthe same relation to the Nationalist movement there that the Ulsteritesbear to the Sinn Feiners in Ireland. Instead of being segregated as arethe followers of Sir Edward Carson, they are scattered throughout thecountry. 

At the General Election held early in 1920, --general elections are heldevery five years, --the results were surprising. The Nationalistsreturned a majority of four over the South African Party in Parliament. It left Smuts to carry on his Government with a minority. To add to histroubles, the Labour Party, --always an uncertain proposition, --increasedits representation from a mere handful to twenty-one, while theUnionists, who comprise the straight-out English-speaking Party, whosestronghold is Natal, suffered severe losses. Smuts could not very wellcount the latter among his open allies because it would have alienatedthe hard-shell Boers in the South African Party. 

This was the situation that I found on my arrival in Capetown. On onehand was Smuts, still Prime Minister, taxing his every resource asparliamentarian and pacificator to maintain the Union and prevent arevolt from Britain--all in the face of a bitter and hostile majority. On the other hand was Hertzog, bent on secession and with a solid arrayof discontents behind him. The two former comrades of the firing line, as the heads of their respective groups, were locked in a momentouspolitical life-and-death struggle the outcome of which may prove to bethe precedent for Ireland, Egypt, and India. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright South African Railways_

GROOTE SCHUUR]

II

Yet Smuts continued as Premier which means that he brought the life ofParliament to a close without a sharp division. Moreover, hemanœuvered his forces into a position that saved the day for Unionand himself. How did he do it?

I can demonstrate one way and with a rather personal incident. Duringthe week I spent in Capetown Smuts was an absorbed person as you mayimagine. The House was in session day and night and there were endlessdemands on him. The best opportunities that we had for talk were atmeal-time. One evening I dined with him in the House restaurant. When wesat down we thought that we had the place to ourselves. Suddenly Smutscast his eye over the long room and saw a solitary man just commencinghis dinner in the opposite corner. Turning to me he said:

"Do you know Cresswell?"

"I was introduced to him yesterday, " I replied. 

"Would you mind if I asked him to dine with us?"

When I assured him that I would be delighted, the Prime Minister got up, walked over to Cresswell and asked him to join us, which he did. 

The significant part of this apparently simple performance, which hadits important outcome, was this. Colonel F. H. P. Cresswell is theleader of the Labour Party in South Africa. By profession a miningengineer, he led the forces of revolt in the historic industrialupheaval in the Rand in what Smuts denounced as a "SyndicalistConspiracy. " Riot, bloodshed, and confusion reigned for a considerableperiod at Johannesburg and large bodies of troops had to be called outto restore order. At the very moment that we sat down to dine that nightno one knew just what Cresswell and the Labourites with their new-wonpower would do. Smuts, as Minister of Finance, had deported some ofCresswell's men and Cresswell himself narrowly escaped drasticpunishment. 

When Smuts brought Cresswell over he said jokingly to me:

"Cresswell is a good fellow but I came near sending him to jail once. "

Cresswell beamed and the three of us amiably discussed various topicsuntil the gong sounded for the assembling of the House. 

What was the result? Before I left Capetown and when the first of thefew occasions which tested the real voting strength of Parliament arose, Cresswell and some of his adherents voted with Smuts. I tell this littlestory to show that the man who today holds the destiny of South Africain his hands is as skillful a diplomat as he is soldier and statesman. 

It was at one of these quiet dinners with Smuts at the House that hefirst spoke about Nationalism. He said: "The war gave Nationalism itsdeath blow. But as a matter of fact Nationalism committed suicide in thewar. "

"But what is Nationalism?" I asked him. 

"A water-tight nation in a water-tight compartment, " he replied. "It isa process of regimentation like the old Germany that will soon mergeinto a new Internationalism. What seems to be at this moment an orgy ofNationalism in South Africa or elsewhere is merely its death gasp. TheNew World will be a world of individualism dominated by Britain andAmerica. 

"What about the future?" I asked him. His answer was:

"The safety of the future depends upon Federation, upon a League ofNations that will develop along economic and not purely sentimentallines. The New Internationalism will not stop war but it can regulateexchange, and through this regulation can help to prevent war. 

"I believe in an international currency which will be a sort of legaltender among all the nations. Why should the currency of the countrydepreciate or rise with the fortunes of war or with its industrial orother complications? Misfortune should not be penalized fiscally. "

I brought up the question of the lack of accord which then existedbetween Britain and America and suggested that perhaps the fall inexchange had something to do with it, whereupon he said: "Yes, I thinkit has. It merely illustrates the point that I have just made about aninternational currency. "

We came back to the subject of individualism, which led Smuts to say:

"The Great War was a striking illustration of the difference betweenindividualism and nationalism. Hindenberg commanded the only army in thewar. It was a product of nationalism. The individualism of theAnglo-Saxon is such that it becomes a mob but it is an intelligent mob. Haig and Pershing commanded such mobs. "

I tried to probe Smuts about Russia. He was in London when I returnedfrom Petrograd in 1917 and I recall that he displayed the keenestinterest in what I told him about Kerensky and the new order that I hadseen in the making. I heard him speak at a Russian Fair in London. Thewhole burden of his utterance was the hope that the Slav would achievediscipline and organization. At that time Russia redeemed from autocracylooked to be a bulwark of Allied victory. The night we talked aboutRussia at Capetown she had become the prey of red terror and theplaything of organized assassination. 

Smuts looked rather wistful when he said:

"You cannot defeat Russia. Napoleon learned this to his cost and so willthe rest of the world. I do not know whether Bolshevism is advancing orsubsiding. There comes a time when the fiercest fires die down. But thebest way to revive or rally all Russia to the Soviet Government is toinvade the country and to annex large slices of it. "

These utterances were made during those more or less hasty meals at theHouse of Parliament when the Premier's mind was really in theLegislative Hall nearby where he was fighting for his administrativelife. It was far different out at _Groote Schuur_, the home of the PrimeMinister, located in Rondebosch, a suburb about nine miles fromCapetown. In the open country that he loves, and in an environment thatbreathed the romance and performance of England's greatestempire-builder, I caught something of the man's kindling vision andrealized his ripe grasp of international events. 

_Groote Schuur_ is one of the best-known estates in the world. CecilRhodes in his will left it to the Union as the permanent residence ofthe Prime Minister. Ever since I read the various lives of Rhodes I hadhad an impatient desire to see this shrine of achievement. Here Rhodescame to live upon his accession to the Premiership of the Cape Colony;here he fashioned the British South Africa Company which did forRhodesia what the East India Company did for India; here came prince andpotentate to pay him honour; here he dreamed his dreams of conquestlooking out at mountain and sea; here lived Jameson and Kipling; herehis remains lay in state when at forty-nine the fires of his restlessambition had ceased. 

_Groote Schuur_, which in Dutch means "Great Granary, " was originallybuilt as a residence and store-house for one of the early DutchGovernors of the Cape. It is a beautiful example of the Dutcharchitecture that you will find throughout the Colony and which is notsurpassed in grace or comfort anywhere. When Rhodes acquired it in theeighties the grounds were comparatively limited. As his power andfortune increased he bought up all the surrounding country until todayyou can ride for nine miles across the estate. You find no neat lawnsand dainty flower-beds. On the place, as in the house itself, you getthe sense of bigness and simplicity which were the keynotes of theRhodes character. 

One reason why Rhodes acquired _Groote Schuur_ was that behind it rosethe great bulk of Table Mountain. He loved it for its vastness and itssolitude. On the back _stoep_, which is the Dutch word for porch, he satfor hours gazing at this mountain which like the man himself wasinvested with a spirit of immensity. 

It was a memorable experience to be at _Groote Schuur_ with Smuts, whohas lived to see the realization of the hope of Union which thrilledalways in the heart of Cecil Rhodes. I remember that on the first nightI went out the Prime Minister took me through the house himself. It hasbeen contended by Smuts' enemies that he was a "creature of Rhodes. " Idiscovered that Smuts, with the exception of having made a speech ofwelcome when Rhodes visited the school that he attended as a boy, hadnever even met the Englishman who left his impress upon a whole land. 

_Groote Schuur_ has been described so much that it is not necessary forme to dwell upon its charm and atmosphere here. To see it is to get afresh and intimate realization of the personality which made theestablishment an unofficial Chancellery of the British Empire. 

Two details, however, have poignant and dramatic interest. In thesimple, massive, bed-room with its huge bay window opening on TableMountain and a stretch of lovely countryside, hangs the small map ofAfrica that Rhodes marked with crimson ink and about which he made thefamous utterance, "It must be all red. " Hanging on the wall in thebilliard room is the flag with Crescent and Cape device that he had madeto be carried by the first locomotive to travel from Cairo to the Cape. That flag has never been unfurled to the breeze but the vision thatbeheld it waving in the heart of the jungle is soon to become anaccomplished fact. 

It was on a night at _Groote Schuur_, as I walked with Smuts through theacres of hydrangeas and bougainvillea (Rhodes' favorite flowers), with anew moon peeping overhead that I got the real mood of the man. Pointingto the faint silvery crescent in the sky I said: "General, there's a newmoon over us and I'm sure it means good luck for you. "

"No, " he replied, "it's the man that makes the luck. "

He had had a trying day in the House and was silent in the motor carthat brought us out. The moment we reached the country and he sniffedthe scent of the gardens the anxiety and preoccupation fell away. Healmost became boyish. But when he began to discuss great problems thelightness vanished and he became the serious thinker. 

We harked back to the days when I had first seen him in England. I askedhim to tell me what he thought of the aftermath of the stupendousstruggle. He said:

"The war was just a phase of world convulsion. It made the first rent inthe universal structure. For years the trend of civilization was towarda super-Nationalism. It is easy to trace the stages. The Holy RomanEmpire was a phase of Nationalism. That was Catholic. Then came thedevelopment of Nationalism, beginning with Napoleon. That wasProtestant. Now began the building of water-tight compartments, otherwise known as nations. Germany represented the most completedevelopment. 

"But that era of 'my country, ' 'my power, '--it is all a form of nationalego, --is gone. The four great empires, --Turkey, Germany, Russia andAustria, --have crumbled. The war jolted them from their high estate. Itstarted the universal cataclysm. Centuries in the future someperspective can be had and the results appraised. 

"Meanwhile, we can see the beginning. The world is one. Humanity is oneand must be one. The war, at terrible cost, brought the peoplestogether. The League of Nations is a faint and far-away evidence of thissolidarity. It merely points the way but it is something. It is notacademic formulas that will unite the peoples of the world butintelligence. "

Smuts now turned his thought to a subject not without interest forAmerica, for he said:

"The world has been brought together by the press, by wireless, indeedby all communication which represents the last word in scientificdevelopment. Yet political institutions cling to old and archaictraditions. Take the Presidency of the United States. A man waits forfour months before he is inaugurated. The incumbent may work untoldmischief in the meantime. It is all due to the fact that in the dayswhen the American Constitution was framed the stagecoach and the horsewere the only means of conveyance. The world now travels by aeroplaneand express train, yet the antiquated habits continue. 

"So with political parties and peoples, the British Empire included. They need to be brought abreast of the times. The old pre-war BritishEmpire, for example, is gone in the sense of colonies or subordinatenations clustering around one master nation. The British Empire itselfis developing into a real League of Nations, --a group of partnerpeoples. "

"What of America and the future?" I asked him. 

"America is the leaven of the future, " answered Smuts. "She is thelife-blood of the League of Nations. Without her the League is stifled. America will give the League the peace temper. You Americans are apacific people, slow to war but terrible and irresistible when you onceget at it. The American is an individualist and in that new andinevitable internationalism the individual will stand out, the Americanpre-eminently. "

Throughout this particular experience at _Groote Schuur_ I could nothelp marvelling on the contrast that the man and the moment presented. We walked through a place of surpassing beauty. Ahead brooded the blackmystery of the mountains and all around was a fragrant stillness brokenonly by the quick, almost passionate speech of this seer and thinker, animate with an inspiring ideal of public service, whose mind leapedfrom the high places of poetry and philosophy on to the hivingbattlefield of world event. It seemed almost impossible that nine milesaway at Capetown raged the storm that almost within the hour would againclaim him as its central figure. 

The Smuts statements that I have quoted were made long before thePresidential election in America. I do not know just what Smuts thinksof the landslide that overwhelmed the Wilson administration and with itthat well-known Article X, but I do know that he genuinely hopes thatthe United States somehow will have a share in the new internationalstewardship of the world. He would welcome any order that would enableus to play our part. 

No one can have contact with Smuts without feeling at once his intenseadmiration for America. One of his ambitions is to come to the UnitedStates. It is characteristic of him that he has no desire to seeskyscrapers and subways. His primary interest is in the great farms ofthe West. "Your people, " he once said to me, "have made farming ascience and I wish that South Africa could emulate them. We have farmsin vast area but we have not yet attained an adequate development. "

I was amazed at his knowledge of American literature. He knows Hamiltonbackwards, has read diligently about the life and times of Washington, and is familiar with Irving, Poe, Hawthorne and Emerson. One reason whyhe admires the first American President is because he was a farmer. Smuts knows as much about rotation of crops and successful chickenraising as he does about law and politics. He said:

"I am an eighty per cent farmer and a Boer, and most people think a Boeris a barbarian. "

Despite his scholarship he remains what he delights to call himself, "aBoer. " He still likes the simple Boer things, as this story will show. During the war, while he was a member of the British War Cabinet andwhen Lloyd George leaned on him so heavily for a multitude of services, a young South African Major, fresh from the Transvaal, brought him a boxof home delicacies. The principal feature of this package was a piece ofwhat the Boers call "biltong, " which is dried venison. The Major gavethe package to an imposing servant in livery at the Savoy Hotel, wherethe General lived, to be delivered to him. Smuts was just going out andencountered the man carrying it in. When he learned that it was fromhome, he grabbed the box, saying: "I'll take it up myself. " Before hereached his apartment he was chewing away vigorously on a mouthful of"biltong" and having the time of his life. 

The contrast between Smuts and his predecessor Botha is striking. Thesetwo men, with the possible exception of Kruger, stand out in the annalsof the Boer. Kruger was the dour, stolid, canny, provincial trader. Theonly time that his interest ever left the confines of the Transvaal waswhen he sought an alliance with William Hohenzollern, and that person, Imight add, failed him at the critical moment. 

Botha was the George Washington of South Africa, --the farmer who becamePremier. He was big of body and of soul, --big enough to know when he wasbeaten and to rebuild out of the ruins. Even the Nationalists trustedhim and they do not trust Smuts. It is the old story of the prophet inhis own country. There are many people in South Africa today who believethat if Botha were alive there would be no secession movement. 

The Boers who oppose him politically call Smuts "Slim Jannie. " TheDutch word "slim" means tricky and evasive. Not so very long ago Smutswas in a conference with some of his countrymen who were not altogetherfriendly to him. He had just remarked on the long drought that wasprevailing. One of the men present went to the window and looked out. When asked the reason for this action he replied:

"Smuts says that there's a drought. I looked out to see if it wasraining. "

When you come to Smuts in this analogy you behold the Alexander Hamiltonof his nation, the brilliant student, soldier, and advocate. Of all hisBoer contemporaries he is the most cosmopolitan. Nor is this dueentirely to the fact that he went to Cambridge where he left a recordfor scholarship, and speaks English with a decided accent. It is becausehe has what might be called world sense. His career, and more especiallyhis part at the Peace Conference and since, is a dramatization of it. 

To the student of human interest Smuts is a fertile subject. His lifehas been a cinema romance shot through with sharp contrasts. Here is oneof them. When leaders of the shattered Boer forces gathered in_Vereeniging_ to discuss the Peace Terms with Kitchener in 1902, Smuts, who commanded a flying guerilla column, was besieging the little miningtown of O'okiep. He received a summons from Botha to attend. It wasaccompanied by a safe-conduct pass signed "D. Haig, Colonel. " Later Haigand Smuts stood shoulder to shoulder in a common cause and helped tosave civilization. 

Smuts is more many-sided than any other contemporary Prime Minister andfor that matter, those that have gone into retirement, that is, men likeAsquith in England and Clemenceau in France. Among world statesmen theonly mind comparable to his is that of Woodrow Wilson. They have incommon a high intellectuality. But Wilson in his prime lacked the hardsense and the accurate knowledge of men and practical affairs which areamong the chief Smuts assets. 

Speaking of Premiers brings me to the inevitable comparison betweenSmuts and Lloyd George. I have seen them both in varying circumstances, both in public and in private and can attempt some appraisal. 

Each has been, and remains, a pillar of Empire. Each has emulated theAdmirable Crichton in the variety and multiplicity of public posts. Lloyd George has held five Cabinet posts in England and Smuts hasduplicated the record in South Africa. Each man is an inspired oratorwho owes much of his advancement to eloquent tongue. Their platformmanner is totally different. Lloyd George is fascinatingly magnetic inand out of the spotlight while Smuts is more coldly logical. When youhear Lloyd George you are stirred and even exalted by his goldenimagery. The sound of his voice falls on the ear like music. You admirethe daring of his utterance but you do not always remember everything hesays. 

With Smuts you listen and you remember. He has no tricks of thespellbinder's trade. He is forceful, convincing, persuasive, and what ismore important, has the quality of permanency. Long after you have lefthis presence the words remain in your memory. If I had a case in court Iwould like to have Smuts try it. His specialty is pleading. 

Lloyd George seldom reads a book. The only volumes I ever heard him saythat he had read were Mr. Dooley and a collection of the Speeches ofAbraham Lincoln. He has books read for him and with a Roosevelt facultyfor assimilation, gives you the impression that he has spent his life ina library. 

Smuts is one of the best-read men I have met. He seems to know somethingabout everything. He ranges from Joseph Conrad to Kant, from BookerWashington to Tolstoi. History, fiction, travel, biography, have allcome within his ken. I told him I proposed to go from Capetown to theCongo and possibly to Angola. His face lighted up. "Ah, yes, " he said, "I have read all about those countries. I can see them before me in mymind's eye. "

One night at dinner at _Groote Schuur_ we had sweet potatoes. He askedme if they were common in America. I replied that down in Kentucky whereI was born one of the favorite negro dishes was "'possum and sweetpotatoes. " He took me up at once saying:

"Oh, yes, I have read about ''possum pie' in Joel Chandler Harris'books. " Then he proceeded to tell me what a great institution "Br'erRabbit" was. 

We touched on German poetry and I quoted two lines that I consideredbeautiful. When I remarked that I thought Heine was the author hecorrected me by proving that they were written by Schiller. 

Lloyd George could never carry on a conversation like this for thesimple reason that he lacks familiarity with literature. He feelsperhaps like the late Charles Frohman who, on being asked if he read thedramatic papers said: "Why should I read about the theatre. I _make_dramatic history. "

I asked Smuts what he was reading at the moment. He looked at me withsome astonishment and answered, "Nothing except public documents. It's agood thing that I was able to do some reading before I became PrimeMinister. I certainly have no time now. "

Take the matter of languages. Lloyd George has always professed that hedid not know French, and on all his trips to France both during andsince the war he carried a staff of interpreters. He understands a gooddeal more French than he professes. His widely proclaimed ignorance ofthe language has stood him in good stead because it has enabled him tohear a great many things that were not intended for his ears. It is partof his political astuteness. Smuts is an accomplished linguist. It hasbeen said of him that he "can be silent in more languages than any manin South Africa. "

Lloyd George is a clever politician with occasional inspired moments buthe is not exactly a statesman as Disraeli and Gladstone were. Smuts hasthe unusual combination of statesmanship with a knowledge of everywrinkle in the political game. 

Take his experience at the Paris Peace Conference. He was distinguishednot so much for what he did, (and that was considerable), but for whathe opposed. No man was better qualified to voice the sentiment of the"small nation. " Born of proud and liberty-loving people, --an infantamong the giants--he was attuned to every aspiration of an hour thatrealized many a one-time forlorn national hope. Yet his statesmanshiptempered sentimental impulse. 

In that gallery of treaty-makers Lloyd George, Clemenceau, and Wilsonfocussed the "fierce light" that beat about the proceedings. But it wasSmuts, in the shadow, who contributed largely to the mental power-plantthat drove the work. Lloyd George had to consider the chapter he wrotein the great instrument as something in the nature of a campaigndocument to be employed at home, while Clemenceau guided a steamrollerthat stooped for nothing but France. The more or less unsophisticatedidealism of Woodrow Wilson foundered on these obstacles. 

Smuts, with his uncanny sense of prophecy, foretold the economicconsequences of the peace. Looking ahead he visualized a surly andunrepentant Germany, unwilling to pay the price of folly; a bitter anddisappointed Austria gasping for economic breath; an aroused andindignant Italy raging with revolt--all the chaos that spells "peace"today. He saw the Treaty as a new declaration of war instead of anantidote for discord. His judgment, sadly enough, has been confirmed. Aderanged universe shot through with reaction and confusion, and withhalf a dozen wars sputtering on the horizon, is the answer. The sob andsurge of tempest-born nations in the making are lost in the din of olderones threatened with decay and disintegration. It is not a pleasingspectacle. 

Smuts signed the Treaty but, as most people know, he filed a memorandumof protest and explanation. He believed the terms uneconomic andtherefore unsound, but it was worth taking a chance on interpretation, adesperate venture perhaps, but anything to stop the blare and bicker ofthe council table and start the work of reconstruction. 

At Capetown he told me that for days he wrestled with the problem "tosign or not to sign. " Finally, on the day before the Day of Days in theHall of Mirrors at Versailles, he took a long solitary walk in theChamps Elysee, loveliest of Paris parades. Returning to his hotel hesaid to his secretary, Captain E. F. C. Lane, "I have decided to sign, but I will tell the reason why. " He immediately sat down at his desk andin a handwriting noted for its illegibility wrote the famousmemorandum. 

III

What of the personal side of Smuts? While he is intensely human it isdifficult to connect anecdote with him. I heard one at Capetown, however, that I do not think has seen the light of print. It reveals hismethods, too. 

When the Germans ran amuck in 1914 Smuts was Minister of Defense of theUnion of South Africa. The Nationalists immediately began to make lifeuncomfortable for him. Balked in their attempt to keep the Union out ofthe struggle they took another tack. After the Botha campaign in GermanSouth-West Africa was well under way, a member of the Opposition askedthe Minister of Defense the following question in Parliament: "How muchhas South Africa paid for horses in the field and the Nationalistssought to make some political capital out of an expenditure that theyremounts?" The Union forces employed thousands of called "waste. "

Smuts sent over to Army Headquarters to get the figures. He was toldthat it would take twenty clerks at least four weeks to compile thedata. 

"Never mind, " was his laconic comment. The next day happened to beQuestion Day in the House. As soon as the query about the remount chargecame up Smuts calmly rose in his seat and replied:

"It was exactly eight million one hundred and sixty-nine thousandpounds, ten shillings and sixpence. " He then sat down without anyfurther remark. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright by Harris & Ewing_

GENERAL J. C. SMUTS]

When one of his colleagues asked him where he got this information hesaid:

"I dug it out of my own mind. It will take the Nationalists a month tofigure it out and by that time they will have forgotten all about it. "And it was forgotten. 

Smuts not only has a keen sense of humor but is swift on the retort. While speaking at a party rally in his district not many years after theBoer War he was continually interrupted by an ex-soldier. He stopped hisspeech and asked the man to state his grievance. The heckler said:

"General de la Rey guaranteed the men fighting under him a living. "

Quick as a flash Smuts replied:

"Nonsense. What he guaranteed you was certain death. "

Like many men conspicuous in public life Smuts gets up early and haspolished off a good day's work before the average business man hassettled down to his job. There is a big difference between his methodsof work and those of Lloyd George. The British Prime Minister only goesto the House of Commons when he has to make a speech or when someimportant question is up for discussion. Smuts attends practically everysession of Parliament, at least he did while I was in Capetown. 

One reason was that on account of the extraordinary position in which hefound himself, any moment might have produced a division carrying withit disastrous results for the Government. The crisis demanded that heremain literally on the job all the time. He left little to hislieutenants. Confident of his ability in debate he was always willing torisk a showdown but he had to be there when it came. 

I watched him as he sat in the House. He occupied a front bench directlyopposite Hertzog and where he could look his arch enemy squarely in theeyes all the time. I have seen him sit like a Sphinx for an hour withoutapparently moving a muscle. He has cultivated that rarest of arts whichis to be a good listener. He is one of the great concentrators. In thisgenius, for it is little less, lies one of the secrets of his success. During a lull in legislative proceedings he has a habit of taking asolitary walk out in the lobby. More than once I saw him pacing up anddown, always with an ear cocked toward the Assembly Room so he couldhear what was going on and rush to the rescue if necessary. 

In the afternoon he would sometimes go into the members' smoking roomand drink a cup of coffee, the popular drink in South Africa. In the oldBoer household the coffee pot is constantly boiling. With a cup ofcoffee and a piece of "biltong" inside him a Boer could fight or trekall day. Coffee bears the same relation to the South African that teadoes to the Englishman, save that it is consumed in much largerquantities. I might add that Smuts neither drinks liquor of any kind norsmokes, and he eats sparingly. He admits that his one dissipation isfarming. 

This comes naturally because he was born fifty years ago on a farm inwhat is known as the Western Province in the Karoo country. He did hisshare of the chores about the place until it was time for him to go toschool. His father and his grandfather were farmers. Inbred in him, asin most Boers, is an ardent love of country life and especially anaffection for the mountains. On more than one occasion he has climbed tothe top of Table Mountain, which is no inconsiderable feat. 

There are two ways of appraising Smuts. One is to see him in action asI did at Capetown, while Parliament was in session. The other is to gethim with the background of his farm at Irene, a little way station aboutten miles from Pretoria. Here, in a rambling one-story house surroundedby orchards, pastures, and gardens, he lives the simple life. In thewestern part of the Transvaal he owns a real farm. He showed hisshrewdness in the acquisition of this property because he bought it at atime when the region was dubbed a "desert. " Now it is a garden spot. 

Irene has various distinct advantages. For one thing it is his permanenthome. _Groote Schuur_ is the property of the Government and he owes histenancy of it entirely to the fortunes of politics. At Irene is plantedhis hearthstone and around it is mobilized his considerable family. There are six little Smutses. Smuts married the sweetheart of his youthwho is a rarely congenial helpmate. It was once said of her that she"went about the house with a baby under one arm and a Greek dictionaryunder the other. "

Most people do not realize that the Union of South Africa has twocapitals. Capetown with the House of Parliament is the center oflegislation, while Pretoria, the ancient Kruger stronghold, with itsmagnificent new Union buildings atop a commanding eminence, is thefountain-head of administration. With Irene only ten miles away it iseasy for Smuts to live with his family after the adjournment ofParliament, and go in to his office at Pretoria every day. 

I have already given you a hint of the Smuts personal appearance. Let usnow take a good look at him. His forehead is lofty, his nose arched, hismouth large. You know that his blonde beard veils a strong jaw. The eyesare reminiscent of those marvelous orbs of Marshal Foch only they areblue, haunting and at times inexorable. Yet they can light up with humorand glow with friendliness. 

Smuts is essentially an out-of-doors person and his body is wiry andrangy. He has the stride of a man seasoned to the long march and who isequally at home in the saddle. He speaks with vigour and at times notwithout emotion. The Boer is not a particularly demonstrative person andSmuts has some of the racial reserve. His personality betokens potentialstrength, --a suggestion of the unplumbed reserve that keeps peopleguessing. This applies to his mental as well as his physical capacity. Frankly cordial, he resents familiarity. You would never think ofslapping him on the shoulder and saying, "Hello, Jan. " More than oneblithe and buoyant person has been frozen into respectful silence insuch a foolhardy undertaking. 

His middle name is Christian and it does not belie a strong phase of hischaracter. Without carrying his religious convictions on hiscoat-sleeve, he has nevertheless a fine spiritual strain in his make-up. He is an all-round dependable person, with an adaptability toenvironment that is little short of amazing. 

IV

Now let us turn to another and less conspicuous South African whosepoint of view, imperial, personal and patriotic, is the exact oppositeof that of Smuts. Throughout this chapter has run the strain of Hertzog, first the Boer General fighting gallantly in the field with Smuts asyouthful comrade; then the member of the Botha Cabinet; later the bitterinsurgent, and now the implacable foe of the order that he helped toestablish. What manner of man is he and what has he to say?

I talked to him one afternoon when he left the floor leadership to hischief lieutenant, a son of the late President Steyn of the Orange FreeState. Like his father, who called himself "President" to the end of hislife although his little republic had slipped away from him, he hasnever really yielded to English rule. 

We adjourned to the smoking room where we had the inevitable cup ofSouth African coffee. I was prepared to find a fanatic and fire-eater. Instead I faced a thin, undersized man who looked anything but a generaland statesman. Put him against the background of a small New Englandtown and you would take him for an American country lawyer. He resemblesthe student more than the soldier and, like many Boers, speaks Englishwith a British accent. Nor is he without force. No man can play the rôlethat he has played in South Africa those past twenty-five years withouthaving substance in him. 

When I asked him to state his case he said:

"The republican idea is as old as South Africa. There was a republicbefore the British arrived. The idea came from the American Revolutionand the inspiration was Washington. The Great Trek of 1836 was a protestvery much like the one we are making today. 

"President Wilson articulated the Boer feeling with his gospel ofself-determination. He also voiced the aspirations of Ireland, India andEgypt. It is a great world idea--a deep moral conviction of mankind, this right of the individual state, as of the individual for freedom. 

"Never again will Transvaal and Orange Free State history be repeated. No matter how a nation covets another--and I refer to Britishcovetousness, --if the nation coveted is able to govern itself it cannotand must not be assimilated. It is one result of the Great War. "

"What is the Nationalist ideal?" I asked. 

"It is the right to self-rule, " replied Hertzog. "But there must be noconflict if it can be avoided. It must prevail by reason and education. At the present time I admit that the majority of South Africans do notwant republicanism. The Nationalist mission today is to keep the torchlighted. "

"How does this idea fit into the spirit of the League of Nations?" Iqueried. 

"It fits in perfectly, " was the response. "We Nationalists favor theLeague as outlined by Wilson. But I fear that it will develop into acapitalistic, imperialistic empire dominating the world instead of aleague of nations. "

I asked Hertzog how he reconciled acquiescence to Union to the presentNationalist revolt. The answer was:

"The Nationalists supported the Government because of their attachmentto General Botha. Deep down in his heart Botha wanted to be free andindependent. "

"How about Ireland?" I demanded. 

The General smiled as he responded: "Our position is different. It doesnot require dynamite, but education. With us it is a simple matter ofthe will of the people. I do not think that conditions in South Africawill ever reach the state at which they have arrived in Ireland. "

Commenting on the Union and its relations to the British Empire Hertzogcontinued:

"The Union is not a failure but we could be better governed. The thingto which we take exception is that the British Government, through ourconnection with it, is in a position by which it gets an undue advantagedirectly and indirectly to influence legislation. For example, we werenot asked to conquer German South-West Africa; it was a command. 

"Very much against the feeling of the old population, that is the Dutchelement, we were led into participation in the war. Today this oldpopulation feels as strongly as ever against South Africa being involvedin European politics. It feels that all this Empire movement only leadsin that direction and involves us in world conflicts. 

"One of the strongest reasons in favor of separation and the setting upof a South African republic is to get solidarity between the English andthe Dutch. I cannot help feeling that our interests are being constantlysubordinated to those of Great Britain. My firm conviction is that thefreer we are, and the more independent of Great Britain we become, themore we shall favor a close co-operation with her. We do not dislike theBritish as such but we do object to the Britisher coming out as asubject of Great Britain with a superior manner and looking upon theDutchman as a dependent or a subordinate. There will be a conflict solong as they do not recognize our heroes, traditions and history. Inshort, we are determined to have a republic of South Africa and Englandmust recognize it. To oppose it is fatal. "

"Will you fight for it?" I asked. 

"I hardly think that it will come to force, " said the General. "It mustprevail by reason and education. It may not come in one year but it willcome before many years. "

Hertzog's feeling is not shared, as he intimated, by the majority ofSouth Africans and this includes many Dutchmen. An illuminating analysisof the Nationalist point of view was made for me by Sir Thomas Smartt, the leader of the Unionist Party and a virile force in South Africanpolitics. He brought the situation strikingly home to America when hesaid:

"The whole Nationalist movement is founded on race. Like the Old Guard, the Boer may die but it is hard for him to surrender. His heart stillrankles with the outcome of the Boer War. Would the American South haveresponded to an appeal to arms in the common cause made by the North in1876? Probably not. Before your Civil War the South only had individualstates. The Boers, on the other hand, had republics with completelyorganized and independent governments. This is why it will take a longtime before complete assimilation is accomplished. A second Boer War isunthinkable. "

We can now return to Smuts and find out just how he achieved the miracleby which he not only retained the Premiership but spiked the guns of theopposition. 

When I left Capetown he was in a corner. The Nationalist majority notonly made his position precarious but menaced the integrity of Union, and through Union, the whole Empire. For five months, --the whole sessionof Parliament, --he held his ground. Every night when he went to bed at_Groote Schuur_ he did not know what disaster the morrow would bringforth. It was a constant juggle with conflicting interests, ambitionsand prejudices. He was like a lion with a pack snapping on all sides. 

Now you can see why he sat in that front seat in the House morning, noonand night. He placated the Labourites, harmonized the Unionists, andflung down the gauntlet openly to the Nationalists. Throughout thathistoric session, and although much legislation was accomplished, he didnot permit the consummation of a single decisive division. It was atriumph of parliamentary leadership. 

When the session closed in July, --it is then mid-winter in Africa, --hewas still up against it. The Nationalist majority was a phantom thatdogged his official life and political fortunes. The problem now was totake out sane insurance against a repetition of the trial anduncertainty which he had undergone. 

Fate in the shape of the Nationalist Party played into his hands. Underthe stimulation of the Nationalists a _Vereeniging_ Congress was calledat Bloenfontein late last September. The Dutch word _Vereeniging_ means"reunion. " Hertzog and Tielman Roos, the co-leader of thesecessionists, believed that by bringing the leading representatives ofthe two leading parties together the appeal to racial pride might carrythe day. Smuts did not attend but various members of his Cabinet did. 

Reunion did anything but reunite. The differences on the republicanissues being fundamental were likewise irreconcilable. The Nationalistsstood pat on secession while the South African Party remained loyal toits principles of Imperial unity. The meeting ended in a deadlock. 

Smuts, a field marshal of politics, at once saw that the hour ofdeliverance from his dilemma had arrived. The Nationalists had declaredthemselves unalterably for separation. He converted their battle-cryinto coin for himself. He seized the moment to issue a call for a newModerate Party that would represent a fusion of the South Africanistsand the Unionists. In one of his finest documents he made a plea for theconsolidation of these constructive elements. 

In it he said:

 Now that the Nationalist Party is firmly resolved to continue its propaganda of fanning the fires of secession and of driving the European races apart from each other and ultimately into conflict with each other, the moderate elements of our population have no other alternative but to draw closer to one another in order to fight that policy. 

 A new appeal must, therefore, be made to all right-minded South Africans, irrespective of party or race, to join the new Party, which will be strong enough to safeguard the permanent interests of the Union against the disruptive and destructive policy of the Nationalists. Such a central political party will not only continue our great work of the past, but is destined to play a weighty rôle in the future peaceable development of South Africa. 

The end of October witnessed the ratification of this proposal by theUnionists. The action at once consolidated the Premier's position. Idoubt if in all political history you can uncover a series of eventsmore paradoxical or perplexing or find a solution arrived at withgreater skill and strategy. It was a revelation of Smuts with his ripestatesmanship put to the test, and not found wanting. 

At the election held four months later Smuts scored a brilliant triumph. The South African Party increased its representation by eighteen seats, while the Nationalists lost heavily. The Labour Party was almost lost inthe wreckage. The net result was that the Premier obtained a workingmajority of twenty-two, which guarantees a stable and loyal Governmentfor at least five years. 

It only remains to speculate on what the future holds for thisremarkable man. South Africa has a tragic habit of prematurelydestroying its big men. Rhodes was broken on the wheel at forty-nine, and Botha succumbed in the prime of life. Will Smuts share the samefate?

No one need be told in the face of the Smuts performance that he is aworld asset. The question is, how far will he go? A Cabinet Minister attwenty-eight, a General at thirty, a factor in international affairsbefore he was well into the forties, he unites those rare elements ofgreatness which seem to be so sparsely apportioned these disturbingdays. That he will reconstruct South Africa there is no doubt. Whatlarger responsibilities may devolve upon him can only be guessed. 

Just before I sailed from England I talked with a high-placed Britishofficial. He is in the councils of Empire and he knows Smuts and SouthAfrica. I asked him to indicate what in his opinion would be the nextgreat milepost of Smuts' progress. He replied:

"The destiny of Smuts is interwoven with the destiny of the wholeBritish Empire. The Great War bound the Colonies together with bonds ofblood. Out of this common peril and sacrifice has been knit a closerImperial kinship. During the war we had an Imperial War Cabinet composedof overseas Premiers, which sat in London. Its logical successor will bea United British Empire, federated in policy but not in administration. Smuts will be the Prime Minister of these United States of GreatBritain. "

It is the high goal of a high career. 

[Illustration: THE HEAVY LINE INDICATES MR. MARCOSSON'S ROUTE INAFRICA]

CHAPTER II--"CAPE-TO-CAIRO"

I

When you take the train for the North at Capetown you start on the firstlap of what is in many respects the most picturesque journey in theworld. Other railways tunnel mighty mountains, cross seething rivers, traverse scorching deserts, and invade the clouds, but none has soromantic an interest or is bound up with such adventure and imaginationas this. The reason is that at Capetown begins the southern end of thefamous seven-thousand-mile Cape-to-Cairo Route, one of the greatestdreams of England's prince of practical dreamers, Cecil Rhodes. Today, after thirty years of conflict with grudging Governments, the project ispractically an accomplished fact. 

Woven into its fabric is the story of a German conspiracy that was asdefinite a cause of the Great War as the Balkan mess or any other phaseof Teutonic international meddling. Along its highway the Americanmining engineer has registered a little known evidence of hisachievement abroad. The route taps civilization and crosses the lastfrontiers of progress. The South African end discloses an illuminatingexample of profitable nationalization. Over it still broods thepersonality of the man who conceived it and who left his impress and hisname on an empire. Attention has been directed anew to the enterprisefrom the fact that shortly before I reached Africa two aviators flewfrom Cairo to the Cape and their actual flying time was exactlysixty-eight hours. 

The unbroken iron spine that was to link North and South Africa andwhich Rhodes beheld in his vision of the future, will probably not bebuilt for some years. Traffic in Central Africa at the moment does notjustify it. Besides, the navigable rivers in the Belgian Congo, Egypt, and the Soudan lend themselves to the rail and water route which, withone short overland gap, now enables you to travel the whole way fromCape to Cairo. 

The very inception of the Cape-to-Cairo project gives you a glimpse ofthe working of the Rhodes mind. He left the carrying out of details tosubordinates. When he looked at the map of Africa, --and he was foreverstudying maps, --and ran that historic line through it from end to endand said, "It must be all red, " he took no cognizance of theextraordinary difficulties that lay in the way. He saw, but he did notheed, the rainbow of many national flags that spanned the continent. Alittle thing like millions of square miles of jungle, successions ofgreat lakes, or wild and primitive regions peopled with cannibals, meantnothing. Money and energy were to him merely means to an end. 

When General "Chinese" Gordon, for example, told him that he had refuseda roomful of silver for his services in exterminating the Mongolianbandits Rhodes looked at him in surprise and said: "Why didn't you takeit? What is the earthly use of having ideas if you haven't the moneywith which to carry them out?" Here you have the keynote of the wholeRhodes business policy. A project had to be carried through regardlessof expense. It applied to the Cape-to-Cairo dream just as it applied toevery other enterprise with which he was associated. 

The all-rail route would cost billions upon billions, although now thatGerman prestige in Africa is ended it would not be a physical andpolitical impossibility. A modification of the original plan into acombination rail and river scheme permits the consummation of the visionof thirty years ago. The southern end is all-rail mainly because theUnion of South Africa and Rhodesia are civilized and prosperouscountries. I made the entire journey by train from Capetown to therail-head at Bukama in the Belgian Congo, a distance of 2, 700 miles, thelongest continuous link in the whole scheme. This trip can be made, ifdesirable, in a through car in about nine days. 

I then continued northward, down the Lualaba River, --Livingstone thoughtit was the Nile--then by rail, and again on the Lualaba through theposts of Kongolo, Kindu and Ponthierville to Stanleyville on the CongoRiver. This is the second stage of the Cape-to-Cairo Route and knocksoff an additional 890 miles and another twelve days. Here I left thehighway to Egypt and went down the Congo and my actual contact with thefamous line ended. I could have gone on, however, and reached Cairo, with luck, in less than eight weeks. 

From Stanleyville you go to Mahagi, which is on the border between theCongo and Uganda. This is the only overland gap in the whole route. Itcovers roughly, --and the name is no misnomer I am told, --680 milesthrough the jungle and skirts the principal Congo gold fields. A roadhas been built and motor cars are available. The railway route fromStanleyville to Mahagi, which will link the Congo and the Nile, issurveyed and would have been finished by this time but for the outbreakof the Great War. The Belgian Minister of the Colonies, with whom Itravelled in the Congo assured me that his Government would commence theconstruction within the next two years, thus enabling the traveller toforego any hiking on the long journey. 

Mahagi is on the western side of Lake Albert and is destined to be thelake terminus of the projected Congo-Nile Railway which will be anextension of the Soudan Railways. Here you begin the journey thatenlists both railways and steamers and which gives practically astraight ahead itinerary to Cairo. You journey on the Nile by way ofRejaf, Kodok, --(the Fashoda that was)--to Kosti, where you reach thesouthern rail-head of the Soudan Railways. Thence it is comparativelyeasy, as most travellers know, to push on through Khartum, Berber, WadyHalfa and Assuan to the Egyptian capital. The distance from Mahagi toCairo is something like 2, 700 miles while the total mileage fromCapetown to Cairo, along the line that I have indicated, is 7, 000 miles. 

This, in brief, is the way you make the trip that Rhodes dreamed about, but not the way he planned it. There are various suggestions foralternate routes after you reach Bukama or, to be more exact, after youstart down the first stage of the journey on the Lualaba. At Kabalo, where I stopped, a railroad runs eastward from the river to Albertville, on the shores of Lake Tanganyika. Rhodes wanted to use the 400-milewaterway that this body of water provides to connect the railway thatcame down from the North with the line that begins at the Cape. The ideawas to employ train ferries. King Leopold of Belgium granted Rhodes theright to do this but Germany frustrated the scheme by refusing torecognize the cession of the strip of Congo territory between LakeTanganyika and Lake Kivu, which was an essential link. 

This incident is one evidence of the many attempts that the Germans madeto block the Cape-to-Cairo project. Germany knew that if Rhodes, andthrough Rhodes the British Empire, could establish through communicationunder the British flag, from one end of Africa to the other, it wouldput a crimp into the Teutonic scheme to dominate the whole continent. She went to every extreme to interfere with its advance. 

This German opposition provided a reason why the consummation of theproject was so long delayed. Another was, that except for the explorerand the big game hunter, there was no particular provocation for movingabout in certain portions of Central Africa until recently. But Germanyonly afforded one obstacle. The British Government, after the fashion ofgovernments, turned a cold shoulder to the enterprise. History was onlyrepeating itself. If Disraeli had consulted his colleagues England wouldnever have acquired the Suez Canal. So it goes. 

Most of the Rhodesian links of the Cape-to-Cairo Route were built byRhodes and the British South Africa Company, while the line from BrokenHill to the Congo border was due entirely to the courage and tenacity ofRobert Williams, who is now constructing the so-called Benguella Railwayfrom Lobito Bay in Portuguese Angola to Bukama. It will be a feeder tothe Cape-to-Cairo road and constitute a sort of back door to Egypt. Itwill also provide a shorter outlet to Europe for the copper in theKatanga district of the Congo. 

When you see equatorial Africa and more especially that part which liesbetween the rail-head at Bukama and Mahagi, you understand why theall-rail route is not profitable at the moment. It is for the most partan uncultivated area principally jungle, with scattered whitesettlements and hordes of untrained natives. The war set back thedevelopment of the Congo many years. Now that the world is beginning tounderstand the possibilities of Central Africa for palm oil, cotton, rubber, and coffee, the traffic to justify the connecting railways willeventually come. 

II

Shortly after my return from Africa I was talking with a well-knownAmerican business man who, after making the usual inquiries about lions, cannibals and hair-breadth escapes, asked: "Is it dangerous to go aboutin South Africa?" When I assured him that both my pocket-book and I weresafer there than on Broadway in New York or State Street in Chicago, hewas surprised. Yet his question is typical of a widespread ignoranceabout all Africa and even its most developed area. 

What people generally do not understand is that the lower part of thatone-time Dark Continent is one of the most prosperous regions in theworld, where the home currency is at a premium instead of a discount;where the high cost of living remains a stranger and where you getlittle suggestion of the commercial rack and ruin that are disturbingthe rest of the universe. While the war-ravaged nations and theirneighbors are feeling their dubious way towards economic reconstruction, the Union of South Africa is on the wave of a striking expansion. Itaffords an impressive contrast to the demoralized productivity of Europeand for that matter the United States. 

South Africa presents many economic features of distinct and uniqueinterest. A glance at its steam transportation discloses rich material. Fundamentally the railroads of any country are the real measures of itsprogress. In Africa particularly they are the mileposts ofcivilization. In 1876 there were only 400 miles on the whole continent. Today there are over 30, 000 miles. Of this network of rails exactly11, 478 miles are in the Union of South Africa and they comprise thesecond largest mileage in the world under one management. 

More than this, they are Government owned and operated. Despite thisusual handicap they pay. No particular love of Governmentcontrol, --which is invariably an invitation for political influence todo its worst, --animated the development of these railways. As inAustralia, where private capital refused to build, it was a case ofnecessity. In South Africa there was practically no private enterpriseto sidestep the obligation that the need of adequate transportationimposed. The country was new, hostile savages still swarmed thefrontiers, and the white man had to battle with Zulu and Kaffir forevery area he opened. In the absence of navigable rivers--there are nonein the Union--the steel rail had to do the pioneering. Besides, theBoers had a strong prejudice against the railroads and regarded the ironhorse as a menace to their isolation. 

The first steam road on the continent of Africa was constructed byprivate enterprise from the suburb of Durban in Natal into the town. Itwas a mile and three-quarters in length and was opened for traffic in1860. Railway construction in the Cape Colony began about the same time. The Government ownership of the lines was inaugurated in 1873 and it hascontinued without interruption ever since. The real epoch of railwaybuilding in South Africa started with the great mineral discoveries. First came the uncovering of diamonds along the Orange River and theopening up of the Kimberley region, which added nearly 2, 000 miles ofrailway. With the finding of gold in the Rand on what became the siteof Johannesburg, another 1, 500 miles were added. 

Since most nationalized railways do not pay it is interesting to take alook at the African balance sheet. Almost without exception the SouthAfrican railways have been operated at a considerable net profit. Theseprofits some years have been as high as £2, 590, 917. During thewar, when there was a natural slump in traffic and when all soldiers andGovernment supplies were carried free of cost, they aggregated in 1915, for instance, £749, 125. 

One fiscal feature of these South African railroads is worthemphasizing. Under the act of Union "all profits, after providing forinterest, depreciation and betterment, shall be utilized in thereduction of tariffs, due regard being had to the agricultural andindustrial development within the Union and the promotion by means ofcheap transport of the settlement of an agricultural population in theinland portions of the Union. " The result is that the rates onagricultural products, low-grade ores, and certain raw materials arepossibly the lowest in the world. In other countries rates had to beincreased during the war but in South Africa no change was made, so asnot to interfere with the agricultural, mineral and industrialdevelopment of the country. 

Nor is the Union behind in up-to-date transportation. A big program forelectrification has been blocked out and a section is under conversion. Some of the power generated will be sold to the small manufacturer andthus production will be increased. 

Stimulating the railway system of South Africa is a single personalitywhich resembles the self-made American wizard of transportation morethan any other Britisher that I have met with the possible exception ofSir Eric Geddes, at present Minister of Transport of Great Britain andwho left his impress on England's conduct of the war. He is Sir WilliamW. Hoy, whose official title is General Manager of the South AfricanRailways and Ports. Big, vigorous, and forward-looking, he sits in asmall office in the Railway Station at Capetown, with his fingerliterally on the pulse of nearly 12, 000 miles of traffic. During the warWalker D. Hines, as Director General of the American Railways, wassteward of a vaster network of rails but his job was an emergency oneand terminated when that emergency subsided. Sir William Hoy, on theother hand, is set to a task which is not equalled in extent, scope orresponsibility by any other similar official. 

Like James J. Hill and Daniel Willard he rose from the ranks. AtCapetown he told me of his great admiration for American railways andtheir influence in the system he dominates. Among other things he said:"We are taking our whole cue for electrification from the railroads ofyour country and more especially the admirable precedent established bythe Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railway. I believe firmly in wideelectrification of present-day steam transport. The great practicaladvantages are more uniform speed and the elimination of stops to takewater. It also affords improved acceleration, greater reliability as totiming, especially on heavy grades, and stricter adherence to schedule. There are enormous advantages to single lines like ours in South Africa. Likewise, crossings and train movements can be arranged with greateraccuracy, thereby reducing delays. Perhaps the greatest saving is inhaulage, that is, in the employment of the heavy electric locomotive. Itall tends toward a denser traffic. 

"Behind this whole process of electrification lies the need, created bythe Great War, for coal conservation and for a motive power that willspeed up production of all kinds. We have abundant coal in the Union ofSouth Africa and by consuming less of it on our railways we will be in astronger position to export it and thus strengthen our internationalposition and keep the value of our money up. "

Since Sir William has touched upon the coal supply we at once get alink, --and a typical one--with the ramified resource of the Union ofSouth Africa. No product, not even those precious stones that lie in thebosom of Kimberley, or the glittering golden ore imbedded in the Rand, has a larger political or economic significance just now. Nor does anycommodity figure quite so prominently in the march of world events. 

In peace, as in war, coal spells life and power. It was the cudgel thatthe one-time proud and arrogant Germany held menacingly over the head ofthe unhappy neutral, and extorted special privilege. At the moment Iwrite, coal is the storm center of controversy that ranges from the RuhrValley of Germany to the Welsh fields of Britain and affects thedestinies of statesmen and of countries. We are not without fueltroubles, as our empty bins indicate. The nation, therefore, with cheapand abundant coal has a bargaining asset that insures industrial peaceat home and trade prestige abroad. 

South Africa not only has a low-priced and ample coal supply but it isin a convenient point for distribution to the whole Southernhemisphere, --in fact Europe and other sections. On past production theUnion ranked only eleventh in a list of coal-producing countries, theoutput being about 8, 000, 000 tons a year before the war and somethingover 10, 000, 000 tons in 1919. This output, however, is no guide to themagnitude of its fields. Until comparatively recent times they have beenlittle exploited, not because of inferiority but because of therestricted output prior to the new movement to develop a bunker andexport trade. Without an adequate geological survey the investigationsmade during the last twelve months indicate a potential supply of over60, 000, 000 tons and immense areas have not been touched at all. 

The war changed the whole coal situation. Labour conflicts have reducedthe British output; a huge part of Germany's supply must go to France asan indemnity, while our own fields are sadly under-worked, for a varietyof causes. All these conditions operate in favor of the South Africanfield, which is becoming increasingly important as a source of supply. 

Despite her advantage the prices remain astonishingly low, when youcompare them with those prevailing elsewhere. English coal, which in1912 cost about nine shillings a ton at pithead, costs considerably morethan thirty shillings today. The average pithead price of South Africancoal in 1915 was five shillings twopence a ton and at the time of myvisit to South Africa in 1919 was still under seven shillings a ton. Capetown and Durban, the two principal harbours of the Union, arecoaling stations of Empire importance. There you can see the flags of adozen nations flying from ships that have put in for fuel. Thanks to thewar these ports are in the center of the world's great trade routes andthus, geographically and economically their position is unique forbunkering and for export. 

The price of bunker coal is a key to the increased overhead cost ofworld trade, as a result of the war. The Belgian boat on which Itravelled from the shores of the Congo to Antwerp coaled at Teneriffe, where the price per ton was seven pounds. It is interesting to comparethis with the bunker price at Capetown of a little more than two poundsper ton, or at Durban where the rate is one pound ten shillings a ton. In the face of these figures you can readily see what an economicadvantage is accruing to the Union of South Africa with reference to thewhole vexing question of coal supply. 

We can now go into the larger matter of South Africa's businesssituation in the light of peace and world reconstruction. I have alreadyshown how the war, and the social and industrial upheaval that followedin its wake have enlarged and fortified the coal situation in the Union. Practically all other interests are similarly affected. The outstandingfactor in the prosperity of the Union has been the development ofwar-born self-sufficiency. I used to think during the conflict thatshook the world, that this gospel of self-containment would be one ofthe compensations that Britain would gain for the years of blood andslaughter. So far as Britain is concerned this hope has not beenrealized. When I was last in England huge quantities of German dyes werebeing dumped on her shores to the loss and dismay of a new coal-tarindustry that had been developed during the war. German wares like toysand novelties were now pouring in. And yet England wondered why herexchange was down!

In South Africa the situation has been entirely different. She alone ofall the British dominions is asserting an almost pugnaciousself-sufficiency. Cut off from outside supplies for over four years bythe relentless submarine warfare, and the additional fact that nearlyall the ships to and from the Cape had to carry war supplies oressential products, she was forced to develop her internal resources. The consequence is an expansion of agriculture, industry andmanufactures. Instead of being as she was often called, "a country ofsamples, " she has become a domain of active production, as is attestedby an industrial output valued at £62, 000, 000 in 1918. Before thewar the British and American manufacturer, --and there is a considerablemarket for American goods in the Cape Colony, --could undersell the SouthAfrican article. That condition is changed and the home-made articleproduced with much cheaper labour than obtains either in Europe or theUnited States, has the field. 

Let me emphasize another striking fact in connection with this SouthAfrican prosperity. During the war I had occasion to observe atfirst-hand the economic conditions in every neutral country in Europe. Iwas deeply impressed with the prosperity of Sweden, Spain andSwitzerland, and to a lesser extent Holland, who made hay while theirneighbors reaped the tares of war. Japan did likewise. These nationswere largely profiteers who capitalized a colossal misfortune. They gotmuch of the benefit and little of the horror of the upheaval. 

Not so with South Africa. She played an active part in the war and atthe same time brought about a legitimate expansion of her resources. Onepoint in her favor is that while she sent tens of thousands of her sonsto fight, her own territory escaped the scar and ravage of battle. Allthe fighting in Africa, so far as the Union was concerned, was in GermanSouth-West Africa and German East Africa. After my years intempest-tossed Europe it was a pleasant change to catch the buoyant, confident, unwearied spirit of South Africa. 

I have dwelt upon coal because it happens to be a significant economicasset. Coal is merely a phase of the South African resources. In 1919the Union produced £35, 000, 000 in gold and £7, 200, 000 indiamonds. The total mining production was, roughly, £50, 000, 000. This mining treasure is surpassed by the agricultural output, of whichnearly one-third is exported. Land is the real measure of permanentwealth. The hoard of gold and diamonds in time becomes exhausted but thesoil and its fruits go on forever. 

The moment you touch South African agriculture you reach a real romance. Nowhere, not even in the winning of the American West by the Mormons, doyou get a more dramatic spectacle of the triumph of the pioneer overcombative conditions. The Mormons made the Utah desert bloom, and theBoers and their British colleagues wrested riches from the bare veldt. The Mormons fought Indians and wrestled with drought, while the Dutch inAfrica and their English comrades battled with Kaffirs, Hottentots andZulus and endured a no less grilling exposure to sun. 

The crops are diversified. One of the staples of South Africa, forexample, is the mealie, which is nothing more or less than our ownAmerican corn, but not quite so good. It provides the principal food ofthe natives and is eaten extensively by the European as well. On a dishof mealie porridge the Kaffir can keep the human machine going fortwenty-four hours. Its prototype in the Congo is manice flour. In theUnion nearly five million acres are under maize cultivation, which isexactly double the area in 1911. The value of the maize crop last yearwas approximately a million six hundred thousand pounds. Similarexpansion has been the order in tobacco, wheat, fruit, sugar and half adozen other products. 

South Africa is a huge cattle country. The Boers have always excelled inthe care of live stock and it is particularly due to their efforts thatthe Union today has more than seven million head of cattle, whichrepresents another hundred per cent increase in less than ten years. 

This matter of live stock leads me to one of the really picturesqueindustries of the Union which is the breeding of ostriches, "the birdswith the golden feathers. " Ask any man who raises these ungainly birdsand he will tell you that with luck they are far better than theproverbial goose who laid the eighteen-karat eggs. The combination ofF's--femininity, fashion and feathers--has been productive of manyfortunes. The business is inclined to be fickle because it depends uponthe female temperament. The ostrich feather, however, is always more orless in fashion. With the outbreak of the war there was a tremendousslump in feathers, which was keenly felt in South Africa. With peace, the plume again became the thing and the drooping industry expanded withget-rich-quick proportions. 

Port Elizabeth in the Cape Colony is the center of the ostrich feathertrade. It is the only place in the world, I believe, devoted entirely toplumage. Not long before I arrived in South Africa £85, 000 offeathers were disposed of there in three days. It is no uncommon thingfor a pound of prime plumes to fetch £100. The demand has becomeso keen that 350, 000 ostriches in the Union can scarcely keep pace withit. Before the war there were more than 800, 000 of these birds but thedepression in feathers coupled with drought, flood and other causes, thinned out the ranks. It takes three years for an ostrich chick tobecome a feather producer. 

America has a considerable part in shaping the ostrich feather market. As with diamonds, we are the largest consumers. You can go to PortElizabeth any day and find a group of Yankees industriously biddingagainst each other. On one occasion two New York buyers started acompetition that led to an eleven weeks orgy that registered a total netsale of more than £100, 000 of feathers. They are still talkingabout it down there. 

South Africa has not only expanded in output but her area is alsoenlarged. The Peace Conference gave her the mandate for GermanSouth-West Africa, which was the first section of the vanished TeutonicEmpire in Africa. It occupies more than a quarter of the whole area ofthe continent south of the Zambesi River. While the word "mandate" asconstrued by the peace sharks at Paris is supposed to mean the amiablestewardship of a country, it really amounts to nothing more or less thanan actual and benevolent assimilation. This assimilation is very muchlike the paternal interest that holding companies in the good old WallStreet days felt for small and competitive concerns. In other words, itis safe to assume that henceforth German South-West Africa will be apermanent part of the Union. 

The Colony's chief asset is comprised in the so-called German South-WestAfrican Diamond Fields, which, with the Congo Diamond Fields, provide aconsiderable portion of the small stones now on the market. These twofields are alike in that they are alluvial which means that the diamondsare easily gathered by a washing process. No shafts are sunk. It isprecisely like gold washing. 

The German South-West mines have an American interest. In thereorganization following the conquest of German South-West Africa by theSouth African Army under General Botha the control had to becomeAnglo-Saxon. The Anglo-American Corporation which has extensiveinterests in South Africa and which is financed by London and New Yorkcapitalists, the latter including J. P. Morgan, Charles H. Sabin and W. B. Thompson, acquired these fields. It is an interesting commentary onpost-war business readjustment to discover that there is still a Germaninterest in these mines. It makes one wonder if the German will ever beeradicated from his world-wide contact with every point of commercialactivity. 

It is not surprising, therefore, that South Africa, in the light of allthe facts that I have enumerated, should be prosperous. Take the money, always a test of national economic health. At Capetown I used the firstgolden sovereign that I had seen since early in 1914. This was not onlybecause the Union happens to be a great gold-producing country butbecause she has an excess of exports over imports. Her money, despiteits intimate relation with that of Great Britain, which has so sadlydepreciated, is at a premium. 

I got expensive evidence of this when I went to the bank at Capetown toget some cash. I had a letter of credit in terms of English pounds. Tomy surprise, I only got seventeen shillings and sixpence in Africanmoney for every English pound, which is nominally worth twentyshillings. Six months after I left, this penalty had increased to threeshillings. To such an extent has the proud English pound sterlingdeclined and in a British dominion too!

South Africa has put an embargo on the export of sovereigns. One reasonwas that during the first three years of the war a steady stream ofthese golden coins went surreptitiously to East India, where anunusually high premium for gold rules, especially in the bazaars. Thegoldsmiths find difficulty in getting material. The inevitable smugglinghas resulted. In order to put a check on illicit removal, all passengersnow leaving the Union are searched before they board their ships. Nor isit a half-hearted procedure. It is as drastic as the war-time scrutinyon frontiers. 

To sum up the whole business situation in the Union of South Africa isto find that the spirit of production, --the most sorely needed thing inthe world today--is that of persistent advance. I dwell on this becauseit is in such sharp contrast with what is going on throughout the restof a universe that staggers under sloth, and where the will-to-work hasalmost become a lost art. That older and more complacent order which isrepresented for example by France, Italy and England may well seekinspiration from this South African beehive. 

III

With this economic setting for the whole South African picture and avisualization of the Cape-to-Cairo Route let us start on the longjourney that eventually took me to the heart of equatorial Africa. Theimmediate objectives, so far as this chapter is concerned, areKimberley, Johannesburg and Pretoria, names and towns that aresynonymous with thrilling chapters in the development of Africa and moreespecially the Union. 

You depart from Capetown in the morning and for hours you remain in thefriendly company of the mountains. Table Mountain has hovered over youduring the whole stay at the capital and you regretfully watch this"Gray Father" fade away in the distance. In the evening you pass throughthe Hex River country where the canyon is reminiscent of Colorado. Soonthere bursts upon you the famous Karoo country, so familiar to allreaders of South African novels and more especially those of OliveSchreiner, Richard Dehan and Sir Percy Fitz Patrick. It is an almosttreeless plain dotted here and there with Boer homesteads. Theirisolation suggests battle with element and soil. The country immediatelyaround Capetown is a paradise of fruit and flowers, but as you travelnorthward the whole character changes. There is less green and morebrown. After the Karoo comes the equally famous veldt, studded withthe _kopjes_ that became a part of the world vocabulary with the BoerWar. Behind these low, long hills, --they suggest flat, rockyhummocks--the South African burghers made many a desperate stand againstthe English. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright by W. & D. Downey_

CECIL RHODES]

When you see the _kopjes_ you can readily understand why it took so longto conquer the Boers. The Dutch knew every inch of the land and everyman was a crack shot from boyhood. In these hills a handful could hold asmall army at bay. All through this region you encounter places thathave become part of history. You pass the ruins of Kitchener'sblockhouses, --they really ended the Boer War--and almost before yourealize it, you cross the Modder River, where British military prestigegot a bloody repulse. Instinctively there come to mind the struggles ofCronje, DeWet, Joubert, and the rest of those Boer leaders who made thisregion a small Valhalla. 

Late in the afternoon of the second day you suddenly get a "feel" ofindustry. The veldt becomes populated and before long huge smokestacksloom against the sky. You are at Kimberly. The average man associatesthis place with a famous siege in the Boer War and the equally famousdiamond mines. But it is much more for it is packed with romance andreality. Here came Cecil Rhodes in his early manhood and pulled off thebiggest business deal of his life; here you find the first milepost thatthe American mining engineer set up in the mineral development ofAfrica: here is produced in greater quantities than in any other placein the world the glittering jewel that vanity and avarice set theirheart upon. 

Kimberley is one of the most unique of all the treasure cities. It ispractically built on a diamond mine in the same way that Johannesburgrests upon a gold excavation. When the great diamond rush of theseventies overwhelmed the Vaal and Orange River regions, what is now theKimberley section was a rocky plain with a few Boer farms. The influx offortune-hunters dotted the area with tents and diggings. Today athriving city covers it and the wealth produced--the diamond output isninety per cent of the world supply--exceeds in value that of a bigmanufacturing community in the United States. 

At Kimberley you touch the intimate life of Rhodes. He arrived in 1872from Natal, where he had gone to retrieve his health on a farm. Themoment he staked out a claim he began a remarkable career. In his earlyKimberley days he did a characteristic thing. He left his claims eachyear to attend lectures at Oxford where he got his degree in 1881, afteralmost continuous commuting between England and Africa. Hence the RhodesScholarship at Oxford created by his remarkable will. History containsno more striking contrast perhaps than the spectacle of this tallcurly-haired boy with the Caesar-like face studying a Greek book whilehe managed a diamond-washing machine with his foot. 

Rhodes developed the mines known as the DeBeers group. His great rivalwas Barney Barnato, who gave African finance the same erratic andpicturesque tradition that the Pittsburgh millionaires brought toAmerican finance. His real name was Barnett Isaacs. After kicking aboutthe streets of the East End of London he became a music hall performerunder the name by which he is known to business history. The diamondrush lured him to Kimberley, where he displayed the resource andingenuity that led to his organization of the Central mine interestswhich grouped around the Kimberley Mine. 

A bitter competition developed between the Rhodes and Barnato groups. Kimberley alternated between boom and bankruptcy. The genius of diamondmining lies in tempering output to demand. Rhodes realized thatindiscriminate production would ruin the market, so he framed up thedeal that made him the diamond dictator. He made Barnato an offer whichwas refused. With the aid of the Rothschilds in London Rhodes secretlybought out the French interests in the Barnato holdings for $6, 000, 000, which got his foot, so to speak, in the doorway of the opposition. Buteven this did not give him a working wedge. He was angling with otherbig stockholders and required some weeks time to consummate the deal. Meanwhile Barnato accumulated an immense stock of diamonds which hethreatened to dump on the market and demoralize the price. The releaseof these stones before the completion of Rhodes' negotiations would haveupset his whole scheme and neutralized his work and expense. 

He arranged a meeting with Barnato who confronted him with the pile ofdiamonds that he was about to throw on the market. Rhodes, so the storygoes, took him by the arm and said: "Barney, have you ever seen abucketful of diamonds? I never have. I'll make a proposition to you. Ifthese diamonds will fill a bucket, I'll take them all from you at yourown price. "

Without giving his rival time to answer, Rhodes swept the glitteringfortune into a bucket which happened to be standing nearby. It alsohappened that the stones did not fill it. This incident shows the extentof the Rhodes resource, for a man at Kimberly told me that Rhodes knewbeforehand exactly how many diamonds Barnato had and got the rightsized bucket. Rhodes immediately strode from the room, got the time hewanted and consummated the consolidation which made the name DeBeerssynonymous with the diamond output of the world. One trifling feature ofthis deal was the check for $26, 000, 000 which Rhodes gave for some ofthe Barnato interests acquired. 

The deal with Barnato illustrated the practical operation of one of therules which guided Rhodes' business life. He once said, "Never fightwith a man if you can deal with him. " He lived up to this maxim evenwith the savage Matabeles from whom he wrested Rhodesia. 

Not long after the organization of the diamond trust Rhodes gave anotherevidence of his business acumen. He saw that the disorganized marketingof the output would lead to instability of price. He therefore formedthe Diamond Syndicate in London, composed of a small group of middlemenwho distribute the whole Kimberley output. In this way the availablesupply is measured solely by the demand. 

Rhodes had a peculiar affection for Kimberley. One reason perhaps wasthat it represented the cornerstone of his fortune. He always referredto the mines as his "bread and cheese. " He made and lost vast sumselsewhere and scattered his money about with a lavish hand. The diamondmines did not belie their name and gave him a constant meal-ticket. 

In Kimberley he made some of the friendships that influenced his life. First and foremost among them was his association with Doctor, afterwards Sir, Starr Jameson, the hero of the famous Raid and aromantic character in African annals. Jameson came to Kimberley topractice medicine in 1878. No less intimate was Rhodes' life-longattachment for Alfred Beit, who arrived at the diamond fields fromHamburg in 1875 as an obscure buyer. He became a magnate whoseoperations extended to three continents. Beit was the balance wheel inthe Rhodes financial machine. 

The diamond mines at Kimberley are familiar to most readers. They differfrom the mines in German South-West Africa and the Congo in that theyare deep level excavations. The Kimberley mine, for example, goes down3, 000 feet. To see this almost grotesque gash in the earth is to get theimpression of a very small Grand Canyon of the Colorado. It is anawesome and terrifying spectacle for it is shot through with green andbrown and purple, is more than a thousand feet wide at the top, andconverges to a visible point a thousand feet below. You feel that out ofthis color and depth has emerged something that itself incarnates lureand mystery. Even in its source the diamond is not without its elementof elusiveness. 

The diamonds at Kimberley are found in a blue earth, technically knownas kimberlite and commonly called "blue ground. " This is exposed to sunand rain for six months, after which it is shaken down, run over agrease table where the vaseline catches the real diamonds, and allowsthe other matter to escape. After a boiling process it is the "rough"diamond. 

I spent a day in the Dutoitspan Mine where I saw thousands of Kaffirsdigging away at the precious blue substance soon to be translated intothe gleaming stone that would dangle on the bosom or shine from thefinger of some woman ten thousand miles away. I got an evidence ofAmerican cinema enterprise on this occasion for I suddenly debouched ona wide level and under the flickering lights I saw a Yankee operatorturning the crank of a motion picture camera. He was part of a movieoutfit getting travel pictures. A hundred naked Zulus stared withopen-eyed wonder at the performance. When the flashlight was touched offthey ran for their lives. 

This leads me to the conspicuous part that Americans have played atKimberley. Rhodes had great confidence in the Americans, and employedthem in various capacities that ranged from introducing Californiafruits into South Africa and Rhodesia to handling his most importantmining interests. When someone asked him why he engaged so many heanswered, "They are so thorough. "

First among the Americans that Rhodes brought to Kimberley was GardnerF. Williams, a Michigander who became General Manager of the DeBeersCompany in 1887 and upon the consolidation, assumed the same post withthe united interests. He developed the mechanical side of diamondproduction and for many years held what was perhaps the most conspicuoustechnical and administrative post in the industry. He retired in favorof his son, Alpheus Williams, who is the present General Manager of allthe diamond mines at Kimberley. 

A little-known American had a vital part in the siege of Kimberley. Among the American engineers who rallied round Gardner Williams wasGeorge Labram. When the Boers invested the town they had the greatadvantage of superiority in weight of metal. Thanks to Britain's lack ofpreparedness, Kimberley only had a few seven pounders, while the Boershad "Long Toms" that hurled hundred pounders. At Rhodes' suggestionLabram manufactured a big gun capable of throwing a thirty-pound shelland it gave the besiegers a big and destructive surprise. This gun, which was called "Long Cecil, " was built and booming in exactlytwenty-eight days. Tragically enough, Labram was killed by a Boer shellwhile shaving in his room at the Grand Hotel exactly a week after thefirst discharge of his gun. 

IV

The part that Americans had in the development of Kimberley is slightcompared with their participation in the exploitation of the Rand goldmines. Not only were they the real pioneers in opening up this greatestof all gold fields but they loomed large in the drama of the JamesonRaid. One of their number, John Hays Hammond, the best-known of thegroup, was sentenced to death for his rôle in it. The entire technicalfabric of the Rand was devised and established by men born, and who hadthe greater part of their experience, in the United States. 

The capital of the Rand is Johannesburg. When you ride in a taxicab downits broad, well-paved streets or are whirled to the top floor of one ofits skyscrapers, it is difficult to believe that thirty years ago thisthriving and metropolitan community was a rocky waste. We are accustomedto swift civic transformations in America but Johannesburg surpasses anyexhibit that we can offer in this line. Once called "a tin town with agold cellar, " it has the atmosphere of a continuous cabaret with a jazzband going all the time. 

No thoroughly acclimated person would ever think of calling Johannesburgby its full and proper name. Just as San Francisco is contracted into"'Frisco, " so is this animated joytown called "Joburg. " I made themistake of dignifying the place with its geographical title when Iinnocently remarked, "Johannesburg is a live place. " My companion lookedat me with pity--it was almost sorrow, and replied, "We think that 'Joburg' (strong emphasis on 'Joburg') is one of thehottest places in the world. "

The word Rand is Dutch for ridge or reef. Toward the middle of theeighties the first mine was discovered on what is the present site ofJohannesburg. The original excavation was on the historic place known as_Witwatersrand_, which means White Water Reef. Kimberley historyrepeated itself for the gold rush to the Transvaal was as noisy andpicturesque as the dash on the diamond fields. It exceeded the Klondikemovement because for one thing it was more accessible and in the secondplace there were no really adverse climatic conditions. Thousands diedin the snow and ice of the Yukon trail while only a few hundredsuccumbed to fever, exposure to rain, and inadequate food on the Rand. It resembled the gold rush to California in 1849 more than any othersimilar event. 

The Rand gold fields, which in 1920 produced half of the world's gold, are embodied in a reef about fifty miles long and twenty miles wide. Allthe mines immediately in and about Johannesburg are practicallyexhausted. The large development today is in the eastern section. Peopledo everything but eat gold in Johannesburg. Cooks, maids, waiters, bootblacks--indeed the whole population--are interested, or at some timehave had an interest in a gold mine. Some historic shoestrings havebecome golden cables. J. B. Robinson, for example, one of the well-knownmagnates, and his associates converted an original interest of£12, 000 into £18, 000, 000. This Rand history sounds like anAladdin fairy tale. 

What concerns us principally, however, is the American end of the wholeshow. Hardly were the first Rand mines uncovered than they felt theinfluence of the American technical touch. Among the first of ourengineers to go out were three unusual men, Hennen Jennings, H. C. Perkins and Captain Thomas Mein. Together with Hamilton Smith, anothernoted American engineer who joined them later, they had all worked inthe famous El Callao gold mine in Venezuela. Subsequently came John HaysHammond, Charles Butters, Victor M. Clement, J. S. Curtis, T. H. Leggett, Pope Yeatman, Fred Hellman, George Webber, H. H. Webb, andLouis Seymour. These men were the big fellows. They marshalled hundredsof subordinate engineers, mechanics, electricians, mine managers andothers until there were more than a thousand in the field. 

This was the group contemporaneous and identified with the Jameson Raid. After the Boer War came what might be called the second generation ofAmerican engineers, which included Sidney Jennings, a brother of Hennen, W. L. Honnold, Samuel Thomson, Ruel C. Warriner, W. W. Mein, the son ofCapt. Thomas Mein, and H. C. Behr. 

Why this American invasion? The reason was simple. The American miningengineer of the eighties and the nineties stood in a class by himself. Through the gold development of California we were the only people whohad produced gold mining engineers of large and varied practicalexperience. When Rhodes and Barnato (they were both among the early ninemine-owners in the Rand) cast about for capable men they naturallypicked out Americans. Hammond, for example, was brought to South Americain 1893 by Barnato and after six months with him went over to Rhodes, with whom he was associated both in the Rand and Rhodesia until 1900. 

Not only did Americans create the whole technical machine but one ofthem--Hennen Jennings--really saved the field. The first mines were"outcrop, " that is, the ore literally cropped out at the surface. Thisoutcrop is oxidized, and being free, is easily amalgamated with mercury. Deeper down in the earth comes the unoxidized zone which continuesindefinitely. The iron pyrites found here are not oxidized. They holdthe gold so tenaciously that they are not amalgamable. They musttherefore be abstracted by some other process than with mercury. At thetime that the outcrop in the Rand become exhausted, what is today knownas the "cyanide process" had never been used in that part of the world. The mine-owners became discouraged and a slump followed. Jennings hadheard of the cyanide operation, insisted upon its introduction, and itnot only retrieved the situation but has become an accepted adjunct ofgold mining the world over. In the same way Hammond inaugurateddeep-level mining when many of the owners thought the field wasexhausted because the outcrop indications had disappeared. 

These Americans in the Rand made the mines and they also made history astheir part in the Jameson Raid showed. Perhaps a word about the Reformmovement which ended in the Raid is permissible here. It grew out of theoppression of the _Uitlander_--the alien--by the Transvaal Governmentanimated by Kruger, the President. Although these outsiders, principallyEnglish and Americans, outnumbered the Boers three to one, they weredeprived of the rights of citizenship. The Reformers organized an armedcampaign to capture Kruger and hold him as a hostage until they couldobtain their rights. The guns and ammunition were smuggled in fromKimberley as "hardware" under the supervision of Gardner Williams. Itwas easy to bring the munitions as far as Kimberley. The Boers set upsuch a careful watch on the Transvaal border, however, that everysubterfuge had to be employed to get them across. 

Dr. Jameson, who at that time was Administrator of Southern Rhodesia, had a force of Rhodesian police on the Transvaal border ready to come tothe assistance of the Committee if necessary. The understanding was thatJameson should not invade the Transvaal until he was needed. Hisimpetuosity spoiled the scheme. Instead of waiting until the Committeewas properly armed and had seized Kruger, he suddenly crossed the borderwith his forces. The Raid was a fizzle and the commander and all his menwere captured by the Boers. This abortive attempt was the real preludeto the Boer War, which came four years later. 

Most Americans who have read about this episode believe that John HaysHammond was the only countryman of theirs in it. This was because he hada leading and spectacular part and was one of the four ringleaderssentenced to death. He afterwards escaped by the payment of a fine of$125, 000. As a matter of fact, four other prominent American miningengineers were up to their necks in the reform movement and got longterms in prison. They were Capt. Thomas Mein, J. S. Curtis, Victor M. Clement and Charles Butters. They obtained their freedom by the paymentof fines of $10, 000 each. This whole enterprise netted Kruger somethinglike $2, 000, 000 in cash. 

The Jameson Raid did more than enrich old Kruger's coffers and bring theAmerican engineers in the Rand to the fore. Indirectly it blocked aGerman scheme that might have played havoc in Africa the moment theinevitable Great War broke. If the Boer War had not developed in 1899 itis altogether likely that, judging from her whole campaign of world-wideinterference, Germany would have arranged so that it should break out in1914. In this unhappy event she could have struck a death blow atEngland in South Africa because in the years between the Boer War and1914 she created close-knit colonial organizations in South-West andEast Africa; built strategic railways; armed and drilled thousands ofnatives, and could have invaded the Cape Colony and the Transvaal. 

In connection with the Jameson Raid is a story not without interest. Jameson and Rudyard Kipling happened to be together when the news ofRoosevelt's coup in Panama was published. The author read it first andhanded the paper to his friend with the question: "What do you think ofit?"

Jameson glanced at the article and then replied somewhat sadly, "Thismakes the Raid look like thirty cents. "

I cannot leave the Rand section of the Union of South Africa without aword in passing about Pretoria, the administrative capital, which isonly an hour's journey from Johannesburg. Here you still see the oldhouse where Kruger lived. It was the throne of a copper-rivetedautocracy. No modern head of a country ever wielded such a despotic ruleas this psalm-singing old Boer whose favorite hour for receivingvisitors was at five o'clock in the morning, when he had his first cupof strong coffee, a beverage which he continued to consume throughoutthe day. 

The most striking feature of the country around Pretoria is the Premierdiamond mine, twenty-five miles east of the town and the world'sgreatest single treasure-trove. The mines at Kimberley togetherconstitute the largest of all diamond fields but the Premier Mine is thebiggest single mine anywhere. It produces as much as the four largestKimberley mines combined, and contributes eighteen per cent of theyearly output allotted to the Diamond Syndicate. 

It was discovered by Thomas M. Cullinan, who bought the site from a Boerfarmer for $250, 000. The land originally cost this farmer $2, 500. Themine has already produced more than five hundred times what Cullinanpaid for it and the surface has scarcely been scraped. You can see thenatives working in its two huge holes which are not more than sixhundred feet deep. It is still an open mine. In the Premier Mine wasfound the Cullinan diamond, the largest ever discovered and which madethe Koh-i-noor and all other fabled gems look like small pebbles. Itweighed 3, 200 karats and was insured for $2, 500, 000 when it was sent toEngland to be presented to King Edward. The Koh-i-noor, by the way, which was found in India only weighs 186 karats. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright by South African Railways_

THE PREMIER DIAMOND MINE]

V

No attempt at an analysis of South Africa would be complete without somereference to the native problem, the one discordant note in the economicand productive scheme. The race question, as the Smuts dilemma showed, lies at the root of all South African trouble. But the racial conflictbetween Briton and Boer is almost entirely political and in no waythreatens the commercial integrity. Both the Dutchman and the Englishmanagree on the whole larger proposition and the necessity of settling onceand for all a trouble that carries with it the danger of sporadicoutbreak or worse. Now we come to the whole irritating labor troublewhich has neither color, caste, nor creed, or geographical line. 

First let me bring the South African color problem home to America. Inthe United States the whites outnumber the blacks roughly ten to one. Our coloured population represents the evolution of the one-time Africanslave through various generations into a peaceful, law-abiding, anduseful social unit. The Southern "outrage" is the rare exception. Wehave produced a Frederick Douglass and a Booker Washington. Our Negro isa Christian, fills high posts, and invades the professions. 

In South Africa the reverse is true. To begin with, the nativesoutnumber the whites four and one-half to one--in Rhodesia they aretwenty to one--and they are increasing at a much greater rate than theEuropeans. Moreover, the native population draws on half a dozen races, including the Zulus, Kaffirs, Hottentots and Basutos. These Negroesrepresent an almost primitive stage of development. They are mainlyheathens and a prey to savagery and superstition. The Cape Colony is theonly one that permits the black man to go to school or become a skilledartisan. Elsewhere the white retains his monopoly on the crafts and atthe same time refuses to do any labour that a Negro can perform. Hencethe great need of white immigration into the Union. The big task, therefore, is to secure adequate work for the Negro without permittinghim to gain an advantage through it. 

It follows that the moment the Kaffir becomes efficient and picks up asmattering of education he begins to think about his position and unrestis fomented. It makes him unstable as an employee, as the constantdesertions from work show. The only way that the gold and diamond mineskeep their thousands of recruited native workers is to confine them incompounds. The ordinary labourer has no such restrictions and he is heretoday and gone tomorrow. 

It is not surprising to discover that in a country teeming with blacksthere are really no good servants, a condition with which the Americanhousewife can heartily sympathize. Before I went to Africa nearly everywoman I knew asked me to bring her back a diamond and a cook. They weremuch more concerned about the cook than the diamond. Had I kept everypromise that I made affecting this human jewel, I would have had tocharter a ship to convey them. The only decent servant I had in Africawas a near-savage in the Congo, a sad commentary on domestic serviceconditions. 

The one class of stable servants in the Colony are the "Cape Boys, " asthey are called. They are the coloured offspring of a European and aHottentot or a Malay and are of all shades, from a darkish brown to amere tinge. They dislike being called "niggers. " The first time I sawthese Cape Boys was in France during the war. South Africa sent overthousands of them to recruit the labour battalions and they didexcellent work as teamsters and in other capacities. The Cape Boy, however, is the exception to the native rule throughout the Union, whichmeans that most native labour is unstable and discontented. 

Not only is the South African native a menace to economic expansion buthe is likewise something of a physical danger. In towns like Pretoriaand Johannesburg there is a considerable feeling of insecurity. Womenshrink from being left alone with their servants and are filled withapprehension while their little ones are out under black custodianship. The one native servant, aside from some of the Cape Boys, who hasdemonstrated absolute fidelity, is the Zulu whom you see in largestnumbers in Natal. He is still a proud and kingly-looking person and hecarried with him a hint of the vanished greatness of his race. Perhapsone reason why he is safe and sane reposes in his recollection of therepeated bitter and bloody defeats at the hands of the white men. Yetthe Zulu was in armed insurrection in Natal in the nineties. 

South Africa enjoys no guarantee of immunity from black uprising evennow in the twentieth century when the world uses the aeroplane and thewireless. During the past thirty years there have been outbreaksthroughout the African continent. As recently as 1915 a fanatical formof Ethiopianism broke out in Nyassaland which lies north-east ofRhodesia, under the sponsorship of John Chilembwe, a negro preacher whohad been educated in the United States. The natives rose, killed anumber of white men and carried off the women. Of course, it wassummarily put down and the leaders executed. But the incident wassignificant. 

Prester John, whose story is familiar to readers of John Buchan's fineromance of the same name, still has disciples. Like Chilembwe he was apreacher who had acquired so-called European civilization. He dreamed ofan Africa for the blacks and took his inspiration from the old kings ofAbyssinia. He too met the fate of all his kind but his spirit goesmarching on. In 1919 a Pan-African Congress was held in Paris to discusssome plan for what might be called Pan-Ethiopianism. The following yeara negro convention in New York City advocated that all Africa should beconverted into a black republic. 

One example of African native unrest was brought strikingly to mypersonal attention. At Capetown I met one of the heads of a large CapeColony school for Negroes which is conducted under religious auspices. The occasion was a dinner given by J. X. Merriman, the Grand Old Man ofthe Cape Colony. This particular educator spoke with glowing enthusiasmabout this institution and dwelt particularly upon the evolution thatwas being accomplished. He gave me a pressing invitation to visit it. Hehappened to be on the train that I took to Kimberley, which was also thefirst stage of his journey home and he talked some more about the greatwork the school was doing. 

When I reached Kimberley the first item of news that I read in thelocal paper was an account of an uprising in the school. Hundreds ofnative students rebelled at the quality of food they were getting andwent on the rampage. They destroyed the power-plant and wrecked severalof the buildings. The constabulary had to be called out to restoreorder. 

In many respects most Central and South African Negroes never reallylose the primitive in them despite the claims of uplifters andsentimentalists. Actual contact is a disillusioning thing. I heard of aconcrete case when I was in the Belgian Congo. A Belgian judge at a postup the Kasai River acquired an intelligent Baluba boy. All personalservants in Africa are called "boys. " This particular native learnedFrench, acquired European clothes and became a model servant. When thejudge went home to Belgium on leave he took the boy along. He decided tostay longer than he expected and sent the negro back to the Congo. Nosooner did the boy get back to his native heath than he sold hisEuropean clothes, put on a loin cloth, and squatted on the ground whenhe ate, precisely like his savage brethren. It is a typical case, andmerely shows that a great deal of so-called black-acquired civilizationin Africa falls away with the garb of civilization. 

The only African blacks who have really assimilated the civilizinginfluence so far as my personal observation goes are those of the WestCoast. Some of the inhabitants of Sierra Leone will illustrate what Imean. Scores have gone to Oxford and Cambridge and have become doctors, lawyers and competent civil servants. They resemble the American Negromore than any others in Africa. This parallel even goes to theirfondness for using big words. I saw hundreds of them holding downimportant clerical positions in the Belgian Congo where they are knownas "Coast-men, " because they come from the West Coast. 

I had an amusing experience with one when I was on my way out of theCongo jungle. I sent a message by him to the captain of the littlesteamboat that took me up and down the Kasai River. In this message Iasked that the vessel be made ready for immediate departure. TheCoast-man, whose name was Wilson--they all have English names and speakEnglish fluently--came back and said:

"I have conveyed your expressed desire to leave immediately to thecaptain of your boat. He only returns a verbal acquiescence but I assureyou that he will leave nothing undone to facilitate your speedydeparture. "

He said all this with such a solemn and sober face that you would havethought the whole destiny of the British Empire depended upon theelaborateness of his utterance. 

To return to the matter of unrest, all the concrete happenings that Ihave related show that the authority of the white man in Africa is stillresented by the natives. It serves to emphasize what Mr. LothropStoddard, an eminent authority on this subject, so aptly calls "therising tide of colour. " We white people seldom stop to realize howoverwhelmingly we are outnumbered. Out of the world population ofapproximately 1, 700, 000, 000 persons (I am using Mr. Stoddard's figures), only 550, 000, 000 are white. 

A colour conflict is improbable but by no means impossible. We have onlyto look at our own troubles with the Japanese to get an intimate glimpseof what might lurk in a yellow tidal wave. The yellow man humbled Russiain the Russo-Japanese War and he smashed the Germans at Kiao Chow inthe Great War. The fact that he was permitted to fight shoulder toshoulder with the white man has only added to his cockiness as we havediscovered in California. 

Remember too that the Germans stirred up all Islam in their mad attemptto conquer the world. The Mohammedan has not forgotten what the Teutonicpropagandists told him when they laid the cunning train of bad feelingthat precipitated Turkey into the Great War. These seeds of discord arebearing fruit in many Near Eastern quarters. One result is that aBritish army is fighting in Mesopotamia now. A Holy War is merely thefull brother of the possible War of Colour. In East Africa the Germansused thousands of native troops against the British and Belgians. Theblacks got a taste, figuratively, of the white man's blood and it didhis system no good. 

Throughout the globe there are 150, 000, 000 blacks and all but 30, 000, 000of them are south of the Sahara Desert in Africa. They lack the highmental development of the yellow man as expressed in the Japanese, buteven brute force is not to be despised, especially where it outnumbersthe whites to the extent that they do in South Africa. I am no alarmistand I do not presume to say that there will be serious trouble. I merelypresent these facts to show that certainly so far as affectingproduction and economic security in general is concerned, the nativestill provides a vexing and irritating problem, not without danger. 

The Union of South Africa is keenly alive to this perplexing nativesituation. Its policy is what might be called the Direct Rule, in whichthe whole administration of the country is in the hands of the Europeansand which is the opposite of the Indirect Rule of India, for example, which recognizes Rajahs and other potentates and which permits the brownman to hold a variety of public posts. 

The Government of the Cape Colony is becoming convinced that BookerWashington's idea is the sole salvation of the race. That great leadermaintained that the hope for the Negro in the United States andelsewhere lay in the training of his hands. Once those hands wereskilled they could be kept out of mischief. I recall having discussedthis theory one night with General Smuts at Capetown and he expressedhis hearty approval of it. 

The lamented Botha died before he could put into operation a plan whichheld out the promise of still another kind of solution. It lay in thesoil. He contended that an area of forty million acres should be setaside for the natives, where many could work out their destiniesthemselves. While this plan offered the opportunity for theestablishment of a compact and perhaps dangerous black entity, hisfeeling was that by the avoidance of friction with the whites thepossibility of trouble would be minimized. This scheme is likely to becarried out by Smuts. 

Since the Union of South Africa profited by the whirligig of war to theextent of acquiring German South-West Africa it only remains to speak ofthe new map of Africa, made possible by the Great Conflict. Despite thereturn of Alsace-Lorraine to France one fails to see concrete evidenceof Germany's defeat in Europe. Her people are still cocky and defiant. There is no mistake about her altered condition in Africa. Her flagthere has gone into the discard along with the wreck of militarism. Theimmense territory that she acquired principally by browbeating is lost, down to the last square mile. 

Up to 1884 Germany did not own an inch of African soil. Within two yearsshe was mistress of more than a million square miles. Analyze her wholeperformance on the continent and a definite cause of the World War isdiscovered. It is part of an international conspiracy studded withastonishing details. 

Africa was a definite means to world conquest. Germany knew of her vastundeveloped wealth. It is now no secret that her plan was to annex thegreater part of French, Belgian, Italian and Portuguese Africa in theevent that she won. The Berlin-to-Bagdad Railway would have hitched upthe late Teutonic Empire with the Near East and made it easy to link theAfrican domain with this intermediary through the Turkish dominions. Here was an imposing program with many advantages. For one thing itwould have given Germany an untold store of raw materials and it wouldalso have put her into a position to dictate to Southern Asia and evenSouth America. 

The methods that Germany adopted to acquire her African possessions werepeculiarly typical. Like the madness that plunged her into a strugglewith civilization they were her own undoing. Into a continent whosemiddle name, so far as colonization goes, is intrigue she fittedperfectly. Practically every German colony in Africa represented thetriumph of "butting in" or intimidation. The Kaiser That Was regardedhimself as the mentor, and sought to recast continents in the same grandway that he lectured his minions. 

The first German colony in Africa was German South-West, as it wascalled for short, and grew out of a deal made between a Bremen merchantand a native chief. On the strength of this Bismarck pinched out an areaalmost as big as British East Africa. Before twelve months had passedthe German flag flew over what came to be known as German East Africa, and also over Togoland and the The Cameroons on the West Coast. 

Germany really had no right to invade any of this country but she wasdeveloping into a strong military power and rather than have trouble, the other nations acquiesced. Once intrenched, she started her usualinterference. The prize mischief-maker of the universe, she began tostir up trouble in every quarter. She embroiled the French at Agadir andgot into a snarl with Portugal over Angola. 

The Kaiser's experience with Kruger is typical. When the Jameson Raidpetered out William Hohenzollern sent the dictator of the Transvaal atelegram of congratulation. The old Boer immediately regarded him as anally and counted on his aid when the Boer War started. Instead, he gotthe double-cross after he had sent his ultimatum to England. At thattime the Kaiser warily side-stepped an entanglement with Britain for thereason that she was too useful. 

It is now evident that a large part of the Congo atrocity was a Germanscheme. The head and front of the exposé movement was Sir Roger Casementof London. He sought to foment a German-financed revolution in Irelandand was hanged as a traitor in the Tower. 

Behind this atrocity crusade was just another evidence of the Germandesire to control Africa. By rousing the world against Belgium, Germanyexpected to bring another Berlin Congress, which would be expected togive her the stewardship of the Belgian Congo. The result would havebeen a German belt across Africa from the Indian to the Atlantic Oceans. She could thus have had England and France at a disadvantage on thenorth, and England and Portugal where she wanted them, to the south. Hence the Great War was not so much a matter of German meddling in theBalkans as it was her persistent manipulation of other nations' affairsin Africa. She was playing "freeze-out" on a stupendous scale. You cansee why Germany was so much opposed to the Cape-to-Cairo Route. Itinterfered with her ambitions and provided a constant irritant to her"benevolent" plans. 

So much for the war end. Turn to the peace aspect. With Germanyeliminated from the African scheme the whole region can enter upon aharmonious development. More than this, the fact that she is nowdeprived of colonies prevents her from recovering the world-wideeconomic authority she commanded before the war. A congested populationallows her no more elbow room at home. Before she went mad her wholehope of the future lay in a colonization where her flag could fly inpublic, and in a penetration which cunningly masked the German hand. Theworld is now wise to the latter procedure. 

The new colour scheme of the African map may now be disclosed. The Unionof South Africa, as you have seen, has taken over German South-WestAfrica; Great Britain has assumed the control of all German East Africawith the exception of Ruanda and Urundu, which have become part of theBelgian Congo. Togoland is divided between France and Britain, while thegreater part of The Cameroons is merged into the Lower French WestAfrican possessions of which the French Congo is the principal one. Britain gets the Cameroon Mountains. 

The one-time Dark Continent remains dark only for Germany. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright British South Africa Co. _

VICTORIA FALLS]

CHAPTER III--RHODES AND RHODESIA

I

For fifty-eight hours the train from Johannesburg had travelled steadilynorthward, past Mafeking and on through the apparently endless stretchesof Bechuanaland. Alternately frozen and baked, I had swallowed enoughdust to stock a small-sized desert. Dawn of the third day broke and withit came a sharp rap on my compartment door. I had been dreaming of awarm bath and a joltless life when I was rudely restored to reality. Thecar was stationary and a blanketed Matabele, his teeth chattering withthe cold, peered in at the window. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

"You are in Rhodesia and I want to know who you are, " boomed a voice outin the corridor. 

I opened the door and a tall, rangy, bronzed man--the immigrationinspector--stepped inside. He looked like a cross between an Arizonacowboy and an Australian overseas soldier. When I proved to hissatisfaction that I was neither Bolshevik nor Boche he departed with theremark: "We've got to keep a watch on the people who come into thiscountry. "

Such was my introduction to Rhodesia, where the limousine and theox-team compete for right of way on the veldt and the 'rickshaw yieldsto the motor-cycle in the town streets. Nowhere in the world can youfind a region that combines to such vivid and picturesque extent theromance and hardship of the pioneer age with the push and practicalityof today. Here existed the "King Solomon's Mines" of Rider Haggard'sfancy: here the modern gold-seekers of fact sought the treasures ofOphir; here Nature gives an awesome manifestation of her power in theVictoria Falls. 

It is the only country where a great business corporation rules, not bymight of money but by chartered authority. Linked with that rule is thestory of a conflict between share-holder and settler that is unique inthe history of colonization. It is the now-familiar and well-nighuniversal struggle for self-determination waged in this instance betweenall-British elements and without violence. 

All the way from Capetown I had followed the trail of Cecil Rhodes, which like the man himself, is distinct. It is not the succession ofuseless and conventional monuments reared by a grateful posterity. Rather it is expressed in terms of cities and a permanent industrial andagricultural advance. "Living he was the land, " and dead, his imperiousand constructive spirit goes marching on. The Rhodes impress iseverywhere. Now I had arrived at the cap-stone of it all, the domainthat bears his name and which he added to the British Empire. 

Less than two hours after the immigration inspector had given me theonce-over on the frontier I was in Bulawayo, metropolis of Rhodesia, which sprawls over the veldt just like a bustling Kansas communityspreads out over the prairie. It is definitely American in energy andatmosphere. Save for the near-naked blacks you could almost imagineyourself in Idaho or Montana back in the days when our West was young. 

Before that first day ended I had lunched and dined in a club that woulddo credit to Capetown or Johannesburg; had met women who wore Frenchfrocks, and had heard the possibilities of the section acclaimed by adozen enthusiasts. Everyone in Rhodesia is a born booster. Again you getthe parallel with our own kind. 

To the average American reader Rhodesia is merely a name, associatedwith the midnight raid of stealthy savage and all the terror and tragedyof the white man's burden amid the wild confines. All this happened, tobe sure, but it is part of the past. While South Africa still wrestleswith a serious native problem, Rhodesia has settled it once and for all. It would be impossible to find a milder lot than the survivors and sonsof the cruel and war-like Lobengula who once ruled here like a despot ofold. His tribesmen--the Matabeles--were put in their place by a stronghand and they remain put. 

Bulawayo was the capital of Lobengula's kingdom. The word means "Placeof Slaughter, " and it did not belie the name. You can still see the treeunder which the portly potentate sat and daily dispensed sanguinaryjudgment. His method was quite simple. If anyone irritated or displeasedhim he was haled up "under the greenwood" and sentenced to death. Ifgout or rheumatism racked the royal frame the chief executed the firstpasserby and then considered the source of the trouble removed. The onlything that really departed was the head of the innocent victim. Lobengula had sixty-eight wives, which may account for some of hiseccentricities. Chaka, the famous king of the Zulus, whose favouritesport was murdering his sons (he feared a rival to the throne), was anamateur in crime alongside the dusky monarch whom the Britishsuppressed, and thereby gained what is now the most prosperous part ofSouthern Rhodesia. 

The occupation and development of Rhodesia are so comparativelyrecent--(Rhodes and Dr. Jameson were fighting the Matabeles at Bulawayoin 1896)--that any account of the country must at the outset include abrief historical approach to the time of my visit last May. Probe intothe beginnings of any African colony and you immediately uncoverintrigue and militant imperialism. Rhodesia is no exception. 

For ages the huge continent of which it is part was veiled behindmystery and darkness. The northern and southern extremes early came intothe ken of the explorer and after him the builder. So too with most ofthe coast. But the vast central belt, skirted by the arid reaches ofSahara on one side and unknown territory on the other, defiedcivilization until Livingstone, Stanley, Speke, and Grant blazed theway. Then began the scramble for colonies. 

Early in the eighties more than one European power cast covetous glancesat what might be called the South Central area. Thanks to the economicforesight of King Leopold, Belgium had secured the Congo. Between thisregion which was then a Free State, and the Transvaal, was an immenseand unappropriated country, --a sort of no man's land, rich withminerals, teeming with forests and peopled by savages. Two territories, Matabeleland, ruled by Lobengula, and Mashonaland, inhabited by theMashonas, who were to all intents and purposes vassals to Lobengula, were the prize portions. Another immense area--the present Britishprotectorate of Bechuanaland--was immediately south and touched the CapeColony and the Transvaal. Portuguese East Africa lay to the east butthe backbone of Africa south of the Congo line lay ready to be pluckedby venturesome hands. 

Nor were the hands lacking for the enterprise. Germany started tostrengthen the network of conspiracy that had already yielded her amillion square miles of African soil and she was reaching out for more. Control of Africa meant for her a big step toward world conquest. PaulKruger, President of the Transvaal Republic, which touched the southernedge of this unclaimed domain, saw in it the logical extension of hisdominions. 

Down at Capetown was Rhodes, dreaming of a Greater Britain anddetermined to block the Kaiser and Kruger. It was largely due to hisefforts while a member of the Cape Parliament that Britain was persuadedto annex Bechuanaland as a Crown Colony. Forestalled here, Kruger wasdetermined to get the rest of the country beyond Bechuanaland andreaching to the southern border of the Congo. His emissaries began todicker with chiefs and he organized an expedition to invade theterritory. Once more Rhodes beat him to it, this time in history-makingfashion. 

Following his theory that it is better to deal with a man than fighthim, he sent C. D. Rudd, Rochfort Maguire, and F. R. ("Matabele")Thompson up to deal directly with Lobengula. They were ideal envoys forThompson in particular knew every inch of the country and spoke thenative languages. From the crafty chieftain they obtained a blanketconcession for all the mineral and trading rights in Matabeleland for£1, 200 a year and one thousand rifles. Rhodes now converted thisconcession into a commercial and colonizing achievement withoutprecedent or parallel. It became the Magna Charta of the great BritishSouth Africa Company, which did for Africa what the East India Companydid for India. Counting in Bechuanaland, it added more than 700, 000square miles to the British Empire. 

Like the historic document so inseparably associated with the glories ofClive and Hastings, its Charter shaped the destiny of the empire and isassociated with battle, blood, and the eventual triumph of theAnglo-Saxon over the man of colour. Other chartered companies havewielded autocratic power over millions of natives but the royal right toexist and operate, bestowed by Queen Victoria upon the British SouthAfrica Company--the Chartered Company as it is commonly known--was thefirst that ever gave a corporation the administrative authority over apolitically active country with a white population. The record of itsrule is therefore distinct in the annals of Big Business. 

It was in 1899 that Rhodes got the Charter. In his conception of theRhodesia that was to be--(it was first called Zambesia)--he had twodistinct purposes in view. One was the larger political motive which wasto widen the Empire and keep the Germans and Boers from annexingterritory that he believed should be British. This was Rhodes theimperialist at work. The other aspect was the purely commercial side andrevealed the same shrewdness that had registered so successfully in thecreation of the Diamond Trust at Kimberley. This was Rhodes the businessman on the job. 

The Charter itself was a visualization of the Rhodes mind and it matchedthe Cape-to-Cairo project in bigness of vision. It gave the Company theright to acquire and develop land everywhere, to engage in shipping, tobuild railway, telegraph and telephone lines, to establish banks, tooperate mines and irrigation undertakings and to promote commerce andmanufacture of all kinds. Nothing was overlooked. It meant the union ofbusiness and statesmanship. 

Under the Charter the Company was given administrative control of anarea larger than that of Great Britain, France and Prussia. It dividedup into Northern and Southern Rhodesia with the Zambesi River as theseparating line. Northern Rhodesia remains a sparsely settledcountry--there are only 2, 000 white inhabitants to 850, 000 natives--andthe only industry of importance is the lead and zinc development atBroken Hill. Southern Rhodesia, where there are 35, 000 white persons and800, 000 natives, has been the stronghold of Chartered interests and thebattleground of the struggle to throw off corporate control. It is theRhodesia to be referred to henceforth in this chapter without prefix. 

The Charter is perpetual but it contained a provision that at the end oftwenty-five years, (1914) and at the end of each succeeding ten years, the Imperial Government has the power to alter, amend or rescind theinstrument so far as the administration of Rhodesia is concerned. Novital change in the original document has been made so far, but by thetime the next cycle expires in 1924 it is certain that the Companycontrol will have ended and Rhodesia will either be a part of the Unionof South Africa or a self-determining Colony. 

The Company is directed by a Board of Directors in London, but nodirector resides in the country itself. Thus at the beginning thefundamental mistake was made in attempting to run an immense area atlong range. With the approval of the Foreign Office the Company names anAdministrator, --the present one is Sir Drummond Chaplin, --who, like theaverage Governor-General, has little to say. The Company has exerciseda copper-riveted control and this rigid rule led to its undoing, as youwill see later on. 

The original capitalization was £1, 000, 000, --it was afterwardsincreased to £9, 000, 000, --but it is only a part of the stream ofpounds sterling that has been poured into the country. In all the yearsof its existence the company has never paid a dividend. It is only since1914 that the revenue has balanced expenditures. More than 40, 000shareholders have invested in the enterprise. Today the fate of thecountry rests practically on the issue between the interests of theseshareholders on one hand and the 35, 000 inhabitants on the other. Oncemore you get the spectacle, so common to American financial history, ofa strongly intrenched vested interest with the real exploiter or theconsumer arrayed against it. The Company rule has not been harsh but ithas been animated by a desire to make a profit. The homesteaders wantliberty of movement without handicap or restraint. An irreconcilableconflict ensued. 

[Illustration: _Photograph Copyright by British South Africa Co. _

CULTIVATING CITRUS LAND IN RHODESIA]

II

We can now go into the story of the occupation of Rhodesia, which notonly unfolds a stirring drama of development but discloses something ofan epic of adventure. With most corporations it is an easy matter to getdown to business once a charter is granted. It is only necessary tosubscribe stock and then enter upon active operations, whether theyproduce soap, razors or automobiles. The market is established for theproduct. 

With the British South Africa Company it was a far different andinfinitely more difficult performance, to translate the license tooperate into action. Matabeleland and Mashonaland were wild regionswhere war-like tribes roamed or fought at will. There were no roads. Theonly white men who had ventured there were hunters, traders, andconcession seekers. Occupation preceded exploitation. A white man'scivilization had to be set up first. The rifle and the hoe went intogether. 

In June, 1890, the Pioneer Column entered. Heading it were two men wholeft an impress upon African romance. One was Dr. Jameson, hero of theRaid and Rhodes' most intimate friend. The first time I met him Imarvelled that this slight, bald, mild little man should have been thecentral figure in so many heroic exploits. The other was the famoushunter, F. C. Selous, who was Roosevelt's companion in British EastAfrica. Under them were less than two hundred white men, includingCaptain Heany, an American, who now invaded a country whereLobengula had an army of 20, 000 trained fighters, organized into_impis_--(regiments)--after the Zulu fashion and in every respect aformidable force. Although the old chief had granted the concession, noone trusted him and Jameson and Selous had to feel their way, sleepunder arms every night, and build highways as they went. 

Upon Lobengula's suggestion it was decided to occupy Mashonaland first. This was achieved without any trouble and the British flag was raised onwhat is now the site of Salisbury, the capital of Southern Rhodesia. Most of the members of the expedition remained as settlers, and farmssprang up on the veldt. The Company had to organize a police force topatrol the land and keep off predatory natives. But this was purelyincidental to the larger troubles that now crowded thick and fast. Inthe South the Boers launched an expedition to occupy Matabeleland byforce and it had to be headed off. To the east rose friction with thePortuguese and a Rhodesian contingent was compelled to occupy part ofPortuguese East Africa until the boundary line was adjusted. 

In 1893 came the first of the events that made Rhodesia a storm center. A Matabele regiment raided the new town of Victoria and killed some ofthe Company's native servants. The Matabeles then went on the warpathand Dr. Jameson took the field against them. For five weeks a bitterstruggle raged. It ended with the defeat and disappearance of Lobengulaand the occupation of Bulawayo by the Company forces. This brought thewhole of Matabeleland under the direct authority of the British SouthAfrica Company. The campaign cost the Company $500, 000. 

Three years of peace and progress followed. Railway constructionstarted in two directions. One line was headed from the south throughBechuanaland toward Bulawayo and another from Beira, the Indian Oceanport in Portuguese East Africa, westward toward Salisbury. Gold mineswere opened and farms extended. At the end of 1895 came the JamesonRaid. Practically the entire force under the many-sided Doctor wasrecruited from the Rhodesian police and they were all captured by theBoers. Rhodesia was left defenceless. 

The Matabeles seized this moment to strike again. Ever since the defeatof 1893 they had been restless and discontented. Various other causescontributed to the uprising. One is peculiarly typical of the Africansavage. An outbreak of rinderpest, a disease hitherto unknown inSouthern Africa, came down from the North and ravaged the cattle herds. In order to check the advance of the pest the Government established aclear belt by shooting all the cattle in a certain area. It wasimpossible for the Matabeles to understand the wisdom of this procedure. They only saw it as an outrage committed by the white men on theirproperty for they were extensive cattle owners. In addition many diedafter eating infected meat and they also held the settlers responsible. The net result of it all was a sudden descent upon the white settlementsand scores of white men, women and children were slaughtered. 

This time the operations against them were on a large scale. The presentLord Plumer, who commanded the Fourth British Army in France against theGermans, --he was then a Lieutenant Colonel--came up with eight hundredsoldiers and drove the Matabeles into the fastnesses of the Matopos, --arange of hills fifty miles long and more than twenty wide. Here thesavages took refuge in caves and could not be driven out. 

You now reach one of the remarkable feats in the life of Cecil Rhodes. The moment that the second Matabele war began he hastened northward tothe country that bore his name. As soon as the Matabeles took refuge inthe Matopos he boldly went out to parley with them. With three unarmedcompanions, one of them an interpreter, he set up a camp in the wildsand sent emissaries to the syndicate of the chiefs who had succeededLobengula. He had become Premier of the Cape Colony, was head of thegreat DeBeers Diamond Syndicate, and had other immense interests. He wasalso Managing Director of the British South Africa Company and thebiggest stockholder. He was determined to protect his interests and atthe same time preserve the integrity of the country that he loved sowell. 

He exposed himself every night to raids by the most blood-thirstysavages in all Africa. Plumer's command was camped nearly five milesaway but Rhodes refused a guard. 

Rhodes waited patiently and his perseverance was eventually rewarded. One by one the chiefs came down from the hills and succumbed to thepersuasiveness and personality of this remarkable man who could dealwith wild and naked warriors as successfully as he could dictate to agroup of hard-headed business men. After two months of negotiating theMatabeles were appeased and permanent peace, so far as the natives wereconcerned, dawned in Rhodesia. After his feat in the Matopos theMatabeles called Rhodes "The Man Who Separated the Fighting Bulls. " Itwas during this period in Rhodesia that Rhodes discovered the placewhich he called "The View of the World, " and where his remains now liein lonely grandeur. 

At Groote Schuur, the Rhodes house near Capetown, which he left as thepermanent residence of the Prime Minister of the Union of South Africa, I saw a prized souvenir of the Matopos conferences with the Matabeles. On the wall in Rhodes' bedroom hangs the faded picture of an old andshriveled Matabele woman. When I asked General Smuts to tell me who shewas he replied: "That is the woman who acted as the chief negotiatorbetween Rhodes and the rebels. " I afterwards found out that she was oneof the wives of Umziligazi, father of Lobengula, and a noted Zuluchieftain. Rhodes never forgot the service she rendered him and causedthe photograph of her to be taken. 

Following the last Matabele insurrection the Imperial Government whichis represented in Rhodesia by a Resident Commissioner assumed control ofthe natives. The Crown was possibly guided by the precedent of Natal, where a premature Responsible Government was followed by two Zulu warswhich well-nigh wrecked the province. It has become the policy of theHome Government not to permit a relatively small white population torule the natives. Whatever the influence, Rhodesia has had no troublewith the natives since Rhodes made the peace up in the hills of theMatopos. 

The moment that the war of force ended, another and bloodless war ofwords began and it has continued ever since. I mean the fight forself-government that the settlers have waged against the CharteredCompany. This brings us to a contest that contributes a significant andlittle-known chapter to the whole narrative of self-determination amongthe small peoples. 

Through its Charter the British South Africa Company was able to fastena copper-rivetted rule on Rhodesia. Most of the Directors in London, with the exception of men like Dr. Jameson, knew very little about thecountry. There was no resident Director in Africa and the members of theBoard only came out just before the elections. The Administrator wasalways a Company man and until 1899 his administrative associates in thefield were the members of an Executive Council nominated by the Company. Meanwhile thousands of men had invested their fortunes in the land andthe inevitable time came when they believed that they should have avoice in the conduct of its affairs. 

This sentiment became so widespread that in 1899 the country was given aLegislative Council which for the first time enabled the Rhodesians toelect some of their own people to office. At first they were onlyallowed three members, while the Company nominated six others. Thisalways gave the Chartered interests a majority. Subsequently, as theclamour for popular representation grew, the number of electedrepresentatives was increased to thirteen, while those nominated byCharter remained the same. To get a majority under the new deal it wasonly necessary for the Company to get the support of four electedmembers and on account of its relatively vast commercial interest it wasusually easy to do this. 

It would be difficult to find an exact parallel to this situation. InAmerica we have had many conflicts with what our campaign orators call"Special Privilege, " an institution which thrived before the searchlightof publicity was turned on corporate control and prior to the time whenfangs were put into the stewardship of railways. These contestants weresometimes decided at the polls with varying degrees of success. Perhapsthe nearest approach to the Rhodesian line-up was the struggle of theCalifornia wheat growers against the Southern Pacific Railway, whichFrank Norris dramatized in his book, "The Octopus. "

All the while the feeling for Responsible Government in Rhodesia grew. Astrong group which opposed the Chartered régime sprang up. At thebeginning of the struggle the line was sharply drawn between the Charteradherents on one side and unorganized opponents on the other. By 1914the issue was sharply defined. The first twenty-five years of theCharter were about to end and the insurgents realized that it was anopportune moment for a show of strength. The opposition had three plans. Some advocated the conversion of Rhodesia into a Crown Colony, othersstrongly urged admission to the Union of South Africa, while stillanother wing stood for Responsible Government. It was decided to uniteon a common platform of Responsible Government. 

For the first time the Company realized that it had a fight on its handsand Dr. Jameson, who had become president of the corporation, went outto Rhodesia and made speeches urging loyalty to the Charter. Hisappearance stirred memories of the pioneer days and almost withoutexception the old guard rallied round him. A red-hot campaign ensuedwith the result that the whole pro-Charter ticket, with one exception, was elected, although the antis polled 45 per cent of the total vote. 

Out of this defeat came a partial victory for the Progressives. TheImperial Government saw the handwriting on the wall and acting withinits powers, which permitted an administrative change in the Charter atthe end of every ten years, granted a Supplemental Charter whichprovided that the Legislative Council could by an absolute majority ofall its members pass a resolution "praying the Crown to establish inSouthern Rhodesia the form of Government known as ResponsibleGovernment, " provided that it could financially support this procedure. It gave the insurgents fresh hope and it made the Company realize thatsooner or later its authority must end. 

Then the Great War broke. Every available man that could possibly bespared went to the Front and the life of the Council was extended until1920, when a conclusive election was to be held. Meanwhile the Company, realizing that it must sooner or later bow to the people's will, gotbusy with an attempt to realize on its assets. Chief among them were themillions of acres of so-called "unalienated" or Crown land in SouthernRhodesia. The Chartered Company claimed this land as a private asset. The settlers alleged that it belonged to them. The Government said itwas an imperial possession. The Privy Council in London upheld thelatter contention. Thereupon the Company filed a claim for$35, 000, 000. 00 against the Government to cover the value of this landand its losses throughout the years of administration. 

Yielding to pressure the Legislative Council in 1919 asked the BritishGovernment to declare itself on the question of replacing the Charterwith some form of Government suited to the needs of the country. LordMilner, the Colonial Secretary, answered in what came to be known as the"Milner Despatch. " In it he said that he did not believe the territory"in its present stage of development was equal to the financial burdenof Responsible Government. " He mildly suggested representativegovernment under the Crown. 

The general expectation throughout Rhodesia was that no election wouldbe held until a Government Commission then sitting, had inquired intothe validity of the Company's immense claim for damages. Early in March1920, however, the Legislative Council gave notice that the election wasset for April 30th. It proved to be the most exciting ever held inRhodesia. The Chartered Company made no fight. The contest was reallywaged between the two wings of the anti-Charter crowd. One favoredResponsible Government and the other, admission to the Union of SouthAfrica. 

The arguments for Responsible Government briefly were these: That underthe Supplemental Charter it was the only constitutional change possible;that the financial burden was not too heavy; that the native questionwas no bar; that the Imperial Government would never saddle the countrywith the huge debt of the Company; that under the Union a hatefulbi-lingualism would be introduced; that taxation would not be excessive, and that finally, the right of self-determination as to Government wasthe birthright of the British people. 

The adherents of Union contended that the original idea of Cecil Rhodeswas to make Rhodesia a part of the Union of South Africa; that by thisprocedure the vexing problem of customs with the Union would be solved;that the system of self-government in South Africa meets everyrequirement of self-determination. Moreover, the point was made that bybecoming a part of the Union the whole railway question would besettled. At present the Rhodesian railways have three ends, one in SouthAfrica at Vryburg, another on the Belgian border, and a third at the seaat Beira. It was claimed that through the Union, Rhodesia would benefitby becoming a part of the nationalized railway system there and get theadvantage of a British port at the Cape instead of Beira, which isPortuguese. In other words, Union meant stability of credit, politics, finance and industry. 

The outcome of the election was that twelve Responsible Governmentcandidates, one of them a woman, were elected. Women voted for the firsttime in Rhodesia and they solidly opposed the union with South Africa. The thirteenth member elected stood for the conversion of the countryinto a Crown Colony under representative government. Throughout thecampaign the Chartered Company remained neutral, although it wasobviously opposed to Responsible Government. The feeling throughoutRhodesia is that it favors Union because it could dispose of its assetsto better advantage. 

I arrived in Rhodesia immediately after the election. The country stillsizzled with excitement. Curiously enough, the head, brains and front ofthe fight for union with South Africa was a former American, now aBritish subject and who has been a ranchman in Rhodesia for some years. He prefers to be nameless. 

In the light of the landslide at the polls it naturally followed thatthe new Legislative Council at its first meeting passed a resolutiondeclaring for Responsible Government. The vote was twelve to five. Sincethis was not an absolute majority, as required by the SupplementaryCharter, it is expected that the Imperial Government will decide againstgranting this form of government just now. The next procedure willprobably be a request for representative government under the Crown orsome modification of the Charter, and for an Imperial loan. Rhodesia hasno borrowing power and the country needs money just as much as its needsmen. The adherents of Union claim that on a straight show-down betweenCrown Colony or Union at the next election, Union will win. From what Igathered in conversation with the leaders of both factions, there wouldhave been a bigger vote, possibly victory for Union, but for theNationalist movement in South Africa, which I described in a previouschapter. The Rhodesians want no racial entanglements. 

Northern Rhodesia has no part in the fight against the Charter. It isonly a question of time, however, when she will be merged into SouthernRhodesia for, with the passing of the Company, her destiny becomesidentical with that of her sister territory. Northern Rhodesia's chiefcomplaint against the Company was that it did not spend any money withinher borders. After reading the story of the crusade for ResponsibleGovernment you can understand the reason why. 

Whatever happens, Charter rule in Rhodesia is doomed and the greatCompany, born of the vision and imperialism of Cecil Rhodes, and whichbattled with the wild man in the wilderness, will eventually vanish fromthe category of corporations. But Rhodesia remains a thriving part ofthe British Empire and the dream of the founder is realized. 

III

Rhodesia produces much more than trouble for the Chartered Company. Sheis pre-eminently a land of ranches and farms. Here you get still anotherparallel with the United States because it is no uncommon thing to finda farm of 50, 000 acres or more. 

I doubt if any other new region in the world contains a finer orsturdier manhood than Rhodesia. Like the land itself it is a strongholdof youth. Likewise, no other colony, and for that matter, no othermatured country exercises such a rigid censorship upon settlers. Untilthe high cost of living disorganized all economic standards, no onecould establish himself in Rhodesia without a minimum capital of£1, 000. So far as farming is concerned, this is now increased to£2, 000. Therefore, you do not see the signs of failure which sooften dot the semi-virgin landscape. Knowing this, you can understandwhy the immigration inspector gives the incoming travellers a rigidcross-examination at the frontier. 

Also it is simon-pure British, and more like Natal in this respect thanany other territory under the Union-jack. I had a convincingdemonstration in a personal experience. I made a speech at the BulawayoClub. The notice was short but I was surprised to find more than ahundred men assembled after dinner, many in evening clothes. Some hadtravelled all day on horseback or in buckboards to get there, others hadcome hundreds of miles by motor car. 

I never addressed a more responsive audience. What impressed me was thekindling spirit of affection they manifested for the Mother Country. Inconversation with many of them afterwards it was interesting to hear thesons of settlers referring to the England that they had never seen, as"home. " That night I realized as never before, --not even amid the agonyand sacrifice of the Somme or the Ancre in France, --one reason why theBritish Empire is great and why, despite all muddling, it carries on. Itlies in the feeling of imperial kinship far out at the frontiers ofcivilization. The colonial is in many respects a more devoted loyalistthan the man at home. 

Wherever I went I found the Rhodesian agriculturist--and he constitutesthe bulk of the white population, --essentially modern in his methods. Hereminds me more of the Kansas farmer than any other alien agriculturiststhat I have met. He uses tractors and does things in a big way. There isa trail of gasoline all over the country. Motorcycles have become anordinary means of transport for district officials and engineers, whofly about over the native paths that are often the merest tracks. Youfind these machines in the remotest regions. The light motor car is alsobeginning to be looked upon as a necessary part of the outfit of thefarmer. 

There was a time when the average Rhodesian believed that gold was thesalvation of the country. Repeated "booms" and the inevitable losseshave brought the people to agree with the opinion of one of thepioneers, that "the true wealth of the country lies in the top twelveinches of the soil. " Agriculture is surpassing mining as the principalindustry. 

The staple agricultural product is maize, which is corn in the Americanphraseology. Until a few years ago the bulk of it was consumed at home. Recently, however, on account of the farm expansion, there is anincreasing surplus for export to the Union of South Africa, the BelgianCongo, and even to Europe. 

The facts about maize are worth considering. Every year 200, 000, 000bags, each weighing 200 pounds, are consumed throughout the world. Heretofore the principal sources of supply have been the Argentine andthe United States. We have come to the time, however, when we absorbpractically our whole crop. Formerly we exported about 10, 000, 000 bags. There is no decrease in corn consumption despite prohibition. HenceRhodesia is bound to loom large in the situation. Last year she producedmore than a million bags. Maize is a crop that revels in sunshine and inRhodesia the sun shines brilliantly throughout the year practicallywithout variation. This enables the product to be sun-dried. 

Other important crops are tobacco, beans, peanuts (which are invariablycalled monkey nuts in that part of the universe), wheat and oranges. Under irrigation, citrus fruits, oats and barley do well. 

Cattle are a bulwark of Rhodesian prosperity. The immense pasturageareas are reminiscent of Texas and Montana. For a hundred years beforethe white settlers came, the Matabeles and the Mashonas raised livestock. The natives still own about 700, 000 head, nearly as many as thewhites. I was interested to find that the British South Africa Companyhas imported a number of Texas ranchmen to act as cattle experts andadvise the ranchers generally. This is due to a desire to begin acompetition with the Argentine and the United States in chilled andfrozen meats. One of the greatest British manufactures of beef extractsowns half a dozen ranches in Rhodesia and it is not unlikely thatAmerican meat men will follow. Mr. J. Ogden Armour is said to be keenlyinterested in the country with the view of expanding the resources ofthe Chicago packers. This is one result of the World War, which hascaused the producer of food everywhere to bestir himself and insurefuture supplies. 

In connection with Rhodesian farming and cattle-raising is a situationwell worthy of emphasis. There is no labour problem. You find, forexample, that miracle of miracles which is embodied in a native at work. It is in sharp contrast with South Africa and the Congo, where, withmillions of coloured people it is almost impossible to get help. TheRhodesian black still remains outside the leisure class. Whether it isdue to his fear of the whites or otherwise, he is an active member ofthe productive order. 

The native will work for the white man but, save to raise enough maizefor himself, he will not become an agriculturist. I heard a typicalstory about Lewaniki, Chief of the Barotses, who once ruled a large partof what is now Northern Rhodesia. Someone asked him to get his people toraise cotton. His answer was:

"What is the use? They cannot eat it. "

In Africa the native's world never extends beyond his stomach. I wassoon to find costly evidence of this in the Congo. 

The African native is quite a character. He is not only a born actor buthas a quaint humor. In the center of the main street at Bulawayo is abronze statue of Cecil Rhodes, bareheaded, and with his face turnedtoward the North. Just as soon as it was unveiled the Matabelesexpressed considerable astonishment over it. They could not understandwhy the figure never moved. Shortly afterwards a great drought came. Anative chief went to see the Resident Commissioner and solemnly told himthat he was quite certain that there would be no rain "until they put ahat on Mr. Rhodes' head. "

The Lewaniki anecdote reminds me of an admirable epigram that wasproduced in Rhodesia. Out there food is commonly known as "skoff, " justas "chop" is the equivalent in the Congo. A former ResidentCommissioner, noted for the keenness of his wit, once asked a travellingmissionary to dine with him. After the meal the guest insisted uponholding a religious service at the table. In speaking of the performancethe Commissioner said: "My guest came to 'skoff' and remained to pray. "

Whenever you visit a new land you almost invariably discover mentalalertness and progressiveness that often put the older civilizations toshame. Let me illustrate. Go to England or France today and you touchthe really tragic aftermath of the war. You see thousands of demobilizedofficers and men vainly searching for work. Many are reduced to theextremity of begging. It has become an acute and poignant problem, thatis not without its echo over here. 

Rhodesia, through the British South Africa Company, is doing its bittoward solution. It has set aside 500, 000 acres which are being allottedfree of charge to approved soldier and sailor settlers from overseas. Not only are they being given the land but they are provided with expertadvice and supervision. The former service men who are unable to borrowcapital with which to exploit the land, are merged into a scheme bywhich they serve an apprenticeship for pay on the established farms andranches until they are able to shift for themselves. 

The Chartered Company, despite its political machine, has developedRhodesia "on its own, " and in rather striking fashion. It operatesdairies, gold mines, citrus estates, nurseries, ranches, tobaccowarehouses, abattoirs, cold storage plants and dams, which insuresadequate water supply in various sections. It is a profitable example ofconstructive paternalism whose results will be increasingly evident longafter the famous Charter has passed into history. 

No phase of the Company's activities is more important than itsconstruction of the Rhodesian railways. They represent adouble-barrelled private ownership in that they were built and areoperated by the Company. There are nearly 2, 600 miles of track. Onesection of the system begins down at Vryburg in Bechuanaland, where itconnects with the South African Railways, and extends straight northwardthrough Bulawayo and Victoria Falls to the Congo border. The otherstarts at Beira on the Indian Ocean and runs west through Salisbury, thecapital, to Bulawayo. 

These railways have a remarkable statistical distinction in that thereis one mile of track for every thirteen white inhabitants. No othersystem in the world can duplicate it. The Union of South Africa comesnearest with 143 white inhabitants per mile or just eleven times asmany. Canada has 27, Australia 247, the United States and New Zealand400 each, while the United Kingdom has over 200 inhabitants for everymile of line. 

Rhodesia is highly mineralized. Coal occurs in three areas and one ofthem, Wankie, --a vast field, --is extensively operated. Gold is foundover the greater part of the country. Here you not only touch anAmerican interest but you enter upon the region that Rider Haggardintroduced to readers as the setting of some of his most famousromances. We will deal with the practical side first. 

Rhodes had great hopes of Rhodesia as a gold-producing country. Hewanted the economic value of the country to rank with the political. Thousands of years ago the natives dug mines and many of these ancientworkings are still to be seen. They never exceed forty or fifty feet indepth. Many leading authorities claimed that the South Arabians of theKingdom of Saba often referred to in the Bible were the pioneers in theRhodesian gold fields and sold the output to the Phoenicians. Otherscontended that the Phoenicians themselves delved here. Until recently itwas also maintained by some scientists and Biblical scholars that modernSouthern Rhodesia was the famed land of Ophir, whence came the gold andprecious stones that decked the persons and palaces of Solomon andDavid. This, however, has been disproved, and Ophir is still the butt ofarchaeological dispute. It has been "located" in Arabia, Spain, Peru, India and South-East Africa. 

Rhodes knew all about the old diggings so he engaged John Hays Hammond, the American engineer, to accompany him on a trip through Rhodesia in1894 and make an investigation of the workings. His report stated thatthe rock mines were undoubtedly ancient, that the greatest skill inmining had been displayed and that scores of millions of pounds worth ofthe precious metal had been extracted. It also proved that practicallyall this treasure had been exported from the country for no visibletraces remain. This substantiates the theory that perhaps it did go tothe Phoenicians or to a potentate like King Solomon. Hammond wrote themining laws of Rhodesia which are an adaptation of the American code. 

The Rhodesian gold mines, which are operated by the Chartered Companyand by individuals, have never fully realized their promise. One reason, so men like Hammond tell me, is that they are over-capitalized and aresmall and scattered. Despite this handicap the country has produced£45, 227, 791 of gold since 1890. The output in 1919 was worth£2, 500, 000. In 1915 it was nearly £4, 000, 000. 

Small diamonds in varying quantities have also been found in Rhodesia. In exchange for having subscribed heavily to the first issue of BritishSouth Africa Company stock, the DeBeers which Rhodes formed received amonopoly on the diamond output and with it the assurance of a rigidenforcement of the so-called Illicit Diamond Buying Act. This law, morecommonly known as "I. D. B. " and which has figured in many South Africannovels, provided drastic punishment for dishonest dealing in the stones. More than one South African millionaire owed the beginnings of hisfortune to evasion of this law. 

Just about the time that Rhodes made the Rhodesian diamond deal aprospector came to him and said: "If I bring you a handful of roughdiamonds what will I get?"

"Fifteen years, " was the ready retort. He was never at a loss for ananswer. 

We can now turn to the really romantic side of the Rhodesian mineraldeposits. One of the favorite pilgrimages of the tourist is to theZimbabwe ruins, located about seventeen miles from Victoria in SouthernRhodesia. They are the remains of an ancient city and must at varioustimes have been the home of large populations. There seems little doubtthat Zimbabwe was the work of a prehistoric and long-forgotten people. 

Over it hangs a mantle of mystery which the fictionist has employed tofull, and at times thrilling advantage. In this vicinity were the "KingSolomon's Mines, " that Rider Haggard wrote about in what is perhaps hismost popular book. Here came "Allan Quartermain" in pursuit of love andtreasure. The big hill at Zimbabwe provided the residence of "She, " thelovely and disappearing lady who had to be obeyed. The ruins in thevalley are supposed to be those of "the Dead City" in the same romance. The interesting feature of all this is that "She" and "King Solomon'sMines" were written in the early eighties when comparatively nothing wasknown of the country. Yet Rider Haggard, with that instinct whichsometimes guides the romancer, wrote fairly accurate descriptions of thecountry long before he had ever heard of its actual existence. Thusimagination preceded reality. 

The imagination miracles disclose in the Haggard books are surpassed bythe actual wonder represented by Victoria Falls. Everybody has heard ofthis stupendous spectacle in Rhodesia but few people see it because itis so far away. I beheld it on my way from Bulawayo to the Congo. Likethe Grand Canyon of the Colorado, it baffles description. 

The first white man to visit the cataract was Dr. Livingstone, who namedit in honor of his Queen. This was in 1855. For untold years the nativesof the region had trembled at its fury. They called it _Mois-oa-tunga_, which means "Smoke That Sounds. " When you see the falls you can readilyunderstand why they got this name. The mist is visible ten miles awayand the terrific roar of the falling waters can be heard even farther. 

The fact that the casual traveller can see Victoria Falls from the trainis due entirely to the foresight and the imagination of Cecil Rhodes. Heknew the publicity value that the cataract would have for Rhodesia andhe combined the utilitarian with his love of the romantic. In planningthe Rhodesian railroad, therefore, he insisted that the bridge acrossthe gorge of the Zambesi into which the mighty waters flow after theirfall, must be sufficiently near to enable the spray to wet the railwaycarriages. The experts said it was impossible but Rhodes had his way, just as Harriman's will prevailed over that of trained engineers in theconstruction of the bridge across Great Salt Lake. 

The bridge across the Zambesi is a fit mate in audacity to the fallsthemselves. It is the highest in the world for it rises 400 feet abovethe low water level. Its main parabolic arch is a 500 foot span whilethe total length is 650 feet. Although its construction was fraught withcontrast hazard it only cost two lives, despite the fact that sevenhundred white men and two thousand natives were employed on it. In thebuilding of the Firth of Forth bridge which was much less dangerous, more than fifty men were killed. 

I first saw the Falls in the early morning when the brilliant Africansun was turned full on this sight of sights. It was at the end of thewet season and the flow was at maximum strength. The mist was so greatthat at first I could scarcely see the Falls. Slowly but defiantly thefoaming face broke through the veil. Niagara gives you a thrill but thistoppling avalanche awes you into absolute silence. 

The Victoria Falls are exactly twice as broad and two and one-halftimes as high as Niagara Falls. This means that they are over a mile inbreadth and four hundred and twenty feet high. The tremendous flow hasonly one small outlet about 100 yards wide. The roar and turmoil of thisworld of water as it crashes into the chasm sets up what is well called"The Boiling Pot. " From this swirling melee the Zambesi rushes withunbridled fury through a narrow and deep gorge, extending with manywindings for forty miles. 

In the presence of this marvel, wars, elections, economic upheavals, thehigh cost of living, prohibition, --all "that unrest which men miscalldelight"--fade into insignificance. Life itself seems a small andpitiful thing. You are face to face with a force of Nature that istitanic, terrifying, and irresistible. 

[Illustration: THE GRAVE OF CECIL RHODES]

IV

Since we bid farewell to Cecil Rhodes in this chapter after havingalmost continuously touched his career from the moment we reachedCapetown, let us make a final measure of his human side, --and he wasintensely human--particularly with reference to Rhodesia, which is soinseparably associated with him. His passion for the country that borehis name exceeded his interest in any of his other undertakings. Heliked the open life of the veldt where he travelled in a sort of gypsywagon and camped for the night wherever the mood dictated. It enabledhim to gratify his fondness for riding and shooting. 

He was always accompanied by a remarkable servant named Tony, ahalf-breed in whom the Portuguese strain predominated. Tony bought hismaster's clothes, paid his bills, and was a court of last resort "belowstairs. " Rhodes declared that his man could produce a satisfactory mealalmost out of thin air. 

Rhodes and Tony were inseparable. Upon one occasion Tony accompanied himwhen he was commanded by Queen Victoria to lodge at Sandringham. Whilethere Rhodes asked Tony what time he could get breakfast, whereupon theservant replied:

"Royalty does not breakfast, sir, but you can have it in the dining-roomat half past nine. " Tony seemed to know everything. 

Throughout Rhodesia I found many of Rhodes' old associates whoaffectionately referred to him as "The Old Man. " I was able to collectwhat seemed to be some new Rhodes stories. A few have already beenrelated. Here is another which shows his quickness in capitalizing asituation. 

In the days immediately following the first Matabele war Rhodes had moretrouble with concession-hunters than with the savages, the Boers, or thePortuguese. Nearly every free-lance in the territory produced some fakedocument to which Lobengula's alleged mark was affixed and offered it toRhodes at an excessive price. 

One of these gentry framed a plan by which one of the many sons ofLobengula was to return to Matabeleland, claim his royal rights, andcreate trouble generally. The whole idea was to start an uprising andderange the machinery of the British South Africa Company. The name ofthe son was N'jube and at the time the plan was devised he held a placeas messenger in the diamond fields at Kimberley. By the system ofintelligence that he maintained, Rhodes learned of the frame-up, thewhereabouts of the boy, and furthermore, that he was in love with aFingo girl. These Fingoes were a sort of bastard slave people. Marriageinto the tribe was a despised thing, and by a native of royal blood, meant the abrogation of all his claims to the succession. 

Rhodes sent for N'jube and asked him if he wanted to marry the Fingogirl. When he replied that he did, the great man said: "Go down to theDeBeers office, get £50 and marry the girl. I will then give you ajob for life and build you a house. "

N'jube took the hint and the money and married the girl. Rhodes now sentthe following telegram to the conspirator at Bulawayo:

"Your friend N'jube was divided between love and empire, but he hasdecided to marry the Fingo girl. It is better that he should settledown in Kimberley and be occupied in creating a family than to plot atBulawayo to stab you in the stomach. "

This ended the conspiracy, and N'jube lived happily and peacefully everafterwards. 

Rhodes was an incorrigible imperialist as this story shows. Upon oneoccasion at Bulawayo he was discussing the Carnegie Library idea withhis friend and associate, Sir Abe Bailey, a leading financial andpolitical figure in the Cape Colony. 

"What would you do if you had Carnegie's money?" asked Bailey. 

"I wouldn't waste it on libraries, " he replied. "I would seize a SouthAmerican Republic and annex it to the United States. "

Rhodes had great admiration for America. He once said to Bailey: "Thegreatest thing in the world would be the union of the English-speakingpeople. I wouldn't mind if Washington were the capital. " He believedimplicitly in the invincibility of the Anglo-Saxon race, and he gave hislife and his fortune to advance the British part of it. 

For the last I have reserved the experience that will always rank firstin my remembrance of Rhodesia. It was my visit to the grave of Rhodes. Most people who go to Rhodesia make this pilgrimage, for in thewell-known tourist language of Mr. Cook, like Victoria Falls, it is "oneof the things to see. " I was animated by a different motive. I had oftenread about it and I longed to view the spot that so eloquentlysymbolized the vision and the imagination of the man I admired. 

The grave is about twenty-eight miles from Bulawayo, in the heart of theMatopo Hills. You follow the road along which the body was carriednineteen years ago. You see the native hut where Rhodes often lived andin which the remains rested for the night on the final journey. You passfrom the green low-lands to the bare frontiers of the rocky domain wherethe Matabeles fled after the second war and where the Father of Rhodesiaheld his historic parleys with them. 

Soon the way becomes so difficult that you must leave the motor andcontinue on foot. The Matopos are a wild and desolate range. It is notuntil you are well beyond the granite outposts that there bursts uponyou an immense open area, --a sort of amphitheatre in which the Druidsmight have held their weird ritual. Directly ahead you see a battlementof boulders projected by some immemorial upheaval. Intrenched betweenthem is the spot where Rhodes rests and which is marked by a brass platebearing the words: "Here Lie the Remains of Cecil John Rhodes. " In hiswill he directed that the site be chosen and even wrote the simpleinscription for the cover. 

When you stand on this eminence and look out on the grim, broodinglandscape, you not only realize why Rhodes called it "The View of theWorld, " but you also understand why he elected to sleep here. Theloneliness and grandeur of the environment, with its absence of any signof human life and habitation, convey that sense of aloofness which, in aman like Rhodes, is the inevitable penalty that true greatness exacts. The ages seem to be keeping vigil with his spirit. 

For eighteen years Rhodes slept here in solitary state. In 1920 theremains of Dr. Jameson were placed in a grave hewn out of the rock andlocated about one hundred feet from the spot where his old friend rests. It is peculiarly fitting that these two men who played such heroic partin the rise of Rhodesia should repose within a stone's throw of eachother. 

During these last years I have seen some of the great things. Theyincluded the British Grand Fleet in battle array, Russia at the daybreakof democracy, the long travail of Verdun and the Somme, the firstAmerican flag on the battlefields of France, Armistice Day amid thetragedy of war, and all the rest of the panorama that those momentousdays disclosed. But nothing perhaps was more moving than the silence andmajesty that invested the grave of Cecil Rhodes. Instinctively therecame to my mind the lines about him that Kipling wrote in "The Burial":

 It is his will that he look forth Across the world he won-- The granite of the ancient North-- Great spaces washed with sun. 

When I reached the bottom of the long incline on my way out I lookedback. The sun was setting and those sentinel boulders bulked in thedying light. They seemed to incarnate something of the might and powerof the personality that shaped Rhodesia, and made of it an annex ofEmpire. 

[Illustration: A KATANGA COPPER MINE]

CHAPTER IV--THE CONGO TODAY

I

Unfold the map of Africa and you see a huge yellow area sprawling overthe Equator, reaching down to Rhodesia on the south-east, and convergingto a point on the Atlantic Coast. Equal in size to all Latin andTeutonic Europe, it is the abode of 6, 000 white men and 12, 000, 000blacks. No other section of that vast empire of mystery is so packedwith hazard and hardship, nor is any so bound up with Americanenterprise. Across it Stanley made his way in two epic expeditions. Livingstone gave it the glamour of his spiritualizing influence. Fourteen nations stood sponsor at its birth as a Free State and thewhole world shook with controversy about its administration. Once thedarkest domain of the Dark Continent, it is still the stronghold of theresisting jungle and the last frontier of civilization. It is theBelgian Congo. 

During these past years the veil has been lifted from the greater partof Africa. We are familiar with life and customs in the British, French, and to a certain degree, the Portuguese and one-time German colonies. But about the land inseparably associated with the economicstatesmanship of King Leopold there still hangs a shroud of uncertaintyas to régime and resource. Few people go there and its literature, savethat which grew out of the atrocity campaign, is meager andunsatisfactory. To the vast majority of persons, therefore, the countryis merely a name--a dab of colour on the globe. Its very distance lendsenchantment and heightens the lure that always lurks in the unknown. What is it like? What is its place in the universal productive scheme?What of its future?

I went to the Congo to find out. My journey there was the logical sequelto my visit to the Union of South Africa and Rhodesia, which I havealready described. It seemed a pity not to take a plunge into the regionthat I had read about in the books of Stanley. In my childhood I heardhim tell the story of some of his African experiences. The man and hisnarrative were unforgettable for he incarnated both the ideal and theadventure of journalism. He cast the spell of the Congo River over meand I lingered to see this mother of waters. Thus it came about that Inot only followed Stanley's trail through the heart of Equatorial Africabut spent weeks floating down the historic stream, which like the riversthat figured in the Great War, has a distinct and definite humanquality. The Marne, the Meuse, and the Somme are the Rivers of Valour. The Congo is the River of Adventure. 

In writing, as in everything else, preparedness is all essential. Ilearned the value of carrying proper credentials during the war, whenevery frontier and police official constituted himself a stumbling-blockto progress. For the South African end of my adventure I provided myselfwith letters from Lloyd George and Smuts. In the Congo I realized that Iwould require equally powerful agencies to help me on my way. Wanderingthrough sparsely settled Central Africa with its millions of natives, scattered white settlements, and restricted and sometimes primitivemeans of transport, was a far different proposition than travelling inthe Cape Colony, the Transvaal, or Rhodesia, where there are throughtrains and habitable hotels. 

I knew that in the Congo the State was magic, and the King's name one toconjure with. Accordingly, I obtained what amounted to an order from theBelgian Colonial Office to all functionaries to help me in everypossible way. This order, I might add, was really a command from KingAlbert, with whom I had an hour's private audience at Brussels before Isailed. As I sat in the simple office of the Palace and talked with thisshy, tall, blonde, and really kingly-looking person, I could not helpthinking of the last time I saw him. It was at La Panne during thatterrible winter of 1916-1917, when the Germans were at the high tide oftheir success. The Belgian ruler had taken refuge in this bleak, sea-swept corner of Belgium and the only part of the country that hadescaped the invader. He lived in a little châlet near the beach. Everyday the King walked up and down on the sands while German aeroplanesflew overhead and the roar of the guns at Dixmude smote the ear. He wasthen leading what seemed to be a forlorn hope and he betrayed hisanxiety in face and speech. Now I beheld him fresh and buoyant, andmonarch of the only country in Europe that had really settled down towork. 

King Albert asked me many questions about my trip. He told me of his ownjourney through the Congo in 1908 (he was then Prince Albert), when hecovered more than a thousand miles on foot. He said that he was gladthat an American was going to write something about the Congo at firsthand and he expressed his keen appreciation of the work of Americancapital in his big colony overseas. "I like America and Americans, " hesaid, "and I hope that your country will not forget Europe. " There wasa warm clasp of the hand and I was off on the first lap of the journeythat was to reel off more than twenty-six thousand miles of strenuoustravel before I saw my little domicile in New York again. 

Before we invade the Congo let me briefly outline its history. It can betold in a few words although the narrative of its exploitations remainsa serial without end. Prior to Stanley's memorable journey ofexploration across Equatorial Africa which he described in "Through theDark Continent, " what is now the Congo was a blank spot on the map. Nowhite man had traversed it. In the fifties Livingstone had opened uppart of the present British East Africa and Nyassaland. In the Luapulaand its tributaries he discovered the headwaters of the Congo River andthen continued on to Victoria Falls and Rhodesia. After Stanley foundthe famous missionary at Ujiji on Lake Tanganyika in 1872, he returnedto Zanzibar. Hence the broad expanse of Central Africa from Nyassalandwestward practically remained undiscovered until Stanley crossed itbetween 1874 and 1877, when he travelled from Stanley Falls, where theCongo River actually begins, down its expanse to the sea. 

As soon as Stanley's articles about the Congo began to appear, KingLeopold, who was a shrewd business man, saw an opportunity for theexpansion of his little country. Under his auspices severalInternational Committees dedicated to African study were formed. He thensent Stanley back to the Congo in 1879, to organize a string of stationsfrom the ocean up to Stanley Falls, now Stanleyville. In 1885 the famousBerlin Congress of Nations, presided over by Bismarck, recognized theCongo Free State, accepted Leopold as its sovereign, and the jungledomain took its place among recognized governments. The principalpurposes animating the founders were the suppression of the slave tradeand the conversion of the territory into a combined factory and a marketfor all the nations. It was largely due to Belgian initiative that thetraffic in human beings which denuded all Central Africa of its bone andsinew every year, was brought to an end. 

The world is more or less familiar with subsequent Congo history. In1904 arose the first protest against the so-called atrocitiesperpetrated on the blacks, and the Congo became the center of aninternational dispute that nearly lost Belgium her only colonialpossession. In the light of the revelations brought about by the GreatWar, and to which I have referred in a previous chapter, it is obviousthat a considerable part of this crusade had its origin in Germany andwas fomented by Germanophiles of the type of Sir Roger Casement, who washanged in the Tower of London. During the World War E. D. Morel, hisprincipal associate in the atrocity campaign, served a jail sentence inEngland for attempting to smuggle a seditious document into an enemycountry. 

With the atrocity business we are not concerned. The only atrocitiesthat I saw in the Congo were the slaughter of my clothes on the nativewashboard, usually a rock, and the American jitney that broke down andleft me stranded in the Kasai jungle. As a matter of fact, the Belgianrule in the Congo has swung round to another extreme, for the Negrothere has more freedom of movement and less responsibility for actionthan in any other African colony. To round out this brief history, theCongo was ceded to Belgium in 1908 and has been a Belgian colony eversince. 

We can now go on with the journey. From Bulawayo I travelled northwardfor three days past Victoria Falls and Broken Hill, through theundeveloped reaches of Northern Rhodesia, where you can sometimes seelion-tracks from the car windows, and where the naked Barotses emergefrom the wilds and stare in big-eyed wonder at the passing trains. Untilrecently the telegraph service was considerably impaired by thecuriosity of elephants who insisted upon knocking down the poles. 

While I was in South Africa alarming reports were published about astrike in the Congo and I was afraid that it would interfere with myjourney. This strike was without doubt one of the most unique in thehistory of all labor troubles. The whole Congo administration "walkedout, " when their request for an increase in pay was refused. Thestrikers included Government agents, railway, telegraph and telephoneemployes, and steamboat captains. Even the one-time cannibals employedon all public construction quit work. It was a natural procedure forthem. Not a wheel turned; no word went over the wires; navigation on therivers ceased. The country was paralyzed. Happily for me it was settledbefore I left Bulawayo. 

Late at night I crossed the Congo border and stopped for the customs atSakania. At once I realized the potency that lay in my royal credentialsfor all traffic was tied up until I was expedited. I also got theinitial surprise of the many that awaited me in this part of the world. In the popular mind the Congo is an annex of the Inferno. I can vouchfor the fact that some sections break all heat records. The air thatgreeted me, however, might have been wafted down from Greenland's icymountain, for I was chilled to the bone. In the flickering light ofthe station the natives shivered in their blankets. The atmosphere wasanything but tropical yet I was almost within striking distance of theEquator. The reason for this frigidity was that I had entered theconfines of the Katanga, the most healthful and highly developedprovince of the Congo and a plateau four thousand feet above sea level. 

[Illustration: LORD LEVERHULME]

[Illustration: ROBERT WILLIAMS]

The next afternoon I arrived at Elizabethville, named for the Queen ofthe Belgians, capital of the province, and center of the copperactivity. Here I touched two significant things. One was the group ofAmerican engineers who have developed the technical side of mining inthe Katanga as elsewhere in the Congo; the other was a contact with theindustry which produces a considerable part of the wealth of the Colony. 

There is a wide impression that the Congo is entirely an agriculturalcountry. Although it has unlimited possibilities in this direction, thereverse, for the moment, is true. The 900, 000 square miles of area (itis eighty-eight times the size of Belgium) have scarcely been scraped bythe hand of man, although Nature has been prodigal in her share of thedevelopment. Wild rubber, the gathering of which loosed the storm aboutKing Leopold's head, is nearly exhausted because of the one-timeruthless harvesting. Cotton and coffee are infant industries. Theprincipal product of the soil, commercially, is the fruit of the palmtree and here Nature again does most of the ground work. 

Mining is, in many respects, the chief operation and the Katanga, whichis really one huge mine, principally copper, is the most prosperousregion so far as bulk of output is concerned. Since this area figures soprominently in the economic annals of the country it is worth more thanpassing attention. Like so many parts of Africa, its exploitation isrecent. For years after Livingstone planted the gospel there, itcontinued to be the haunt of warlike tribes. The earliest white visitorsobserved that the natives wore copper ornaments and trafficked in a rudeSt. Andrew's cross--it was the coin of the country--fashioned out ofmetal. When prospectors came through in the eighties and nineties theyfound scores of old copper mines which had been worked by the aboriginesmany decades ago. Before the advent of civilization the Katanga blacksdealt mainly in slaves and in copper. 

The real pioneer of development in the Katanga is an Englishman, RobertWilliams, a friend and colleague of Cecil Rhodes, and who constructed, as you may possibly recall, the link in the Cape-to-Cairo Railway fromBroken Hill in Northern Rhodesia to the Congo border. He has done forCongo copper what Lord Leverhulme has accomplished for palm fruit andThomas F. Ryan for diamonds. Congo progress is almost entirely due toalien capital. 

Williams, who was born in Aberdeen, Scotland, went out to Africa in 1881to take charge of some mining machinery at one of the Kimberley diamondmines. Here he met Rhodes and an association began which continued untilthe death of the empire builder. On his death-bed Rhodes asked Williamsto continue the Cape-to-Cairo project. In the acquiescence to thisrequest the Katanga indirectly owes much of its advance. Thus theconstructive influence of the Colossus of South Africa extends beyondthe British dominions. 

In building the Broken Hill Railway Williams was prompted by tworeasons. One was to carry on the Rhodes project; the other was to linkup what he believed to be a whole new mineral world to the needs ofman. Nor was he working in the dark. Late in the nineties he had sentGeorge Grey, a brother of Sir Edward, now Viscount Grey, through thepresent Katanga region on a prospecting expedition. Grey discoveredlarge deposits of copper and also tin, lead, iron, coal, platinum, anddiamonds. Williams now organized the company known as the TanganyikaConcessions, which became the instigator of Congo copper mining. Subsequently the Union Miniere du Haut Kantanga was formed by leadingBelgian colonial capitalists and the Tanganyika Concessions acquiredmore than forty per cent of its capital. The Union Miniere took over allthe concessions and discoveries of the British corporation. The UnionMiniere is now the leading industrial institution in the Katanga and itsstory is really the narrative of a considerable phase of Congodevelopment. 

Within ten years it has grown from a small prospecting outfit in thewilderness, two hundred and fifty miles from a railway, to an industryemploying at the time of my visit more than 1, 000 white men and 15, 000blacks. It operates four completely equipped mines which produced nearly30, 000 tons of copper in 1917, and a smelter with an annual capacity of40, 000 tons of copper. A concentrator capable of handling 4, 000 tons ofore per day is nearing completion. This bustling industrial communitywas the second surprise that the Congo disclosed. 

Equally remarkable is the mushroom growth of Elizabethville, the onewonder town of the Congo. In 1910, when the railway arrived, it was ageographical expression, --a spot in the jungle dominated by the hugeant-hills that you find throughout Central Africa, some of them fortyfeet high. The white population numbered thirty. I found it a thrivingplace with over 2, 000 whites and 12, 000 blacks. There are one third asmany white people in the Katanga Province as in all the rest of theCongo combined, and its area is scarcely a fourth of that of the colony. 

The father of Elizabethville is General Emile Wangermee, one of thepicturesque figures in Congo history. He came out in the early days ofthe Free State, fought natives, and played a big part in the settlementof the country. He has been Governor-General of the Colony, Vice-Governor-General of the Katanga and is now Honorary Vice-Governor. In the primitive period he went about, after the Congo fashion, on abicycle, in flannel shirt and leggins and he continued thisrough-and-ready attire when he became a high-placed civil servant. 

Upon one occasion it was announced that the Vice-Governor of the Katangawould visit Kambove. The station agent made elaborate preparations forhis reception. Shortly before the time set for his arrival a manappeared on the platform looking like one of the many prospectors whofrequented the country. The station agent approached him and said, "Youwill have to move on. We are expecting the Vice-Governor of theKatanga. " The supposed prospector refused to move and the agentthreatened to use force. He was horrified a few minutes later to findhis rough customer being received by all the functionaries of thedistrict. Wangermee had arrived ahead of time and had not bothered tochange his clothes. 

When I rode in a motor car down Elizabethville's broad, electric-lightedavenues and saw smartly-dressed women on the sidewalks, beheld Belgiansplaying tennis on well-laid-out courts on one side, and Englishmen atgolf on the other, it was difficult to believe that ten years ago thiswas the bush. I lunched in comfortable brick houses and dined at nightin a club where every man wore evening clothes. I kept saying to myself, "Is this really the Congo?" Everywhere I heard English spoken. This wasdue to the large British interest in the Union Miniere and the presenceof so many American engineers. The Katanga is, with the exception ofcertain palm fruit areas, the bulwark of British interests in the Congo. The American domain is the Upper Kasai district. 

Conspicuous among the Americans at Elizabethville was Preston K. Horner, who constructed the smelter plant and who was made General Manager ofthe Union Miniere in 1913. He spans the whole period of Katangadevelopment for he first arrived in 1909. Associated with him werevarious Americans including Frank Kehew, Superintendent of the smelter, Thomas Carnahan, General Superintendent of Mines, Daniel Butner, Superintendent of the Kambove Mine, the largest of the Katanga group, Thomas Yale, who is in charge of the construction of the immenseconcentration plant at Likasi, and A. Brooks, Manager of the WesternMine. For some years A. E. Wheeler, a widely-known American engineer, has been Consulting Engineer of the Union Miniere, with Frederick Snowas assistant. Since my return from Africa Horner has retired as GeneralManager and Wheeler has become the ranking American. Practically all theYankee experts in the Katanga are graduates of the Anaconda or UtahMines. 

With Horner I travelled by motor through the whole Katanga copper belt. I visited, first of all, the famous Star of the Congo Mine, eight milesfrom Elizabethville, and which was the cornerstone of the entire metaldevelopment. Next came the immense excavation at Kambove where I watchedAmerican steam shovels in charge of Americans, gouging the copper oreout of the sides of the hills. I saw the huge concentrating plant risingalmost like magic out of the jungle at Likasi. Here again an Americanwas in control. At Fungurume I spent the night in a native house in theheart of one of the loveliest of valleys whose verdant walls will soonbe gashed by shovels and discoloured with ore oxide. Over all the areathe Anglo-Saxon has laid his galvanizing hand. One reason is that thereare few Belgian engineers of large mining experience. Another is thatthe American, by common consent, is the one executive who gets thingsdone in the primitive places. 

I cannot leave the Congo copper empire without referring to anotherRobert Williams achievement which is not without internationalsignificance. Like other practical men of affairs with colonialexperience, he realized long before the outbreak of the Great Warsomething of the extent and menace of the German ambition in Africa. AsI have previously related, the Kaiser blocked his scheme to run theCape-to-Cairo Railway between Lake Tanganyika and Lake Kivu, after KingLeopold had granted him the concession. Williams wanted to help Rhodesand he wanted to help himself. His chief problem was to get the copperfrom the Katanga to Europe in the shortest possible time. Most of it isrefined in England and Belgium. At present it goes out by way ofBulawayo and is shipped from the port of Beira in Portuguese EastAfrica. This involves a journey of 9, 514 miles from Kambove to London. How was this haul to be shortened through an agency that would be proofagainst the German intrigue and ingenuity?

[Illustration: ON THE LUALABA]

[Illustration: A VIEW ON THE KASAI]

Williams cast his eye over Africa. On the West Coast he spotted LobitoBay, a land-locked harbour twenty miles north of Benguella, one of theprincipal parts of Angola, a Portuguese colony. From it he ran a linestraight from Kambove across the wilderness and found that it covered adistance of approximately 1, 300 miles. He said to himself, "This is thenatural outlet of the Katanga and the short-cut to England and Belgium. "He got a concession from the Portuguese Government and work began. TheGermans tried in every way to block the project for it interfered withtheir scheme to "benevolently" assimilate Angola. 

At the time of my visit to the Congo three hundred and twenty miles ofthe Benguella Railway, as it is called, had been constructed and asection of one hundred miles or more was about to be started. The linewill pass through Ruwe, which is an important center of gold productionin the Katanga, and connect up with the Katanga Railway just north ofKambove. It is really a link in the Cape-to-Cairo system and whencompleted will shorten the freight haul from the copper fields to Londonby three thousand miles, as compared with the present Biera itinerary. 

There is every indication that the Katanga will justify the earlyconfidence that Williams had in it and become one of the greatcopper-producing centers of the world. Experts with whom I have talkedin America believe that it can in time reach a maximum output of 150, 000tons a year. The ores are of a very high grade and since the UnionMiniere owns more than one hundred mines, of which only six or seven arepartially developed, the future seems safe. 

Copper is only one phase of the Katanga mineral treasure. Coal, iron, and tin have not only been discovered in quantity but are being minedcommercially. Oil-shale is plentiful on the Congo River nearPonthierville and good indications of oil are recorded in other places. The discovery of oil in Central Africa would have a great influence onthe development of transportation since it would supply fuel forsteamers, railways, and motor transport. There is already a big oilproduction in Angola and there is little doubt that an important fieldawaits development in the Congo. 

It is not generally realized that Africa today produces the three mostvaluable of all known minerals in the largest quantities, or has thebiggest potentialities. The Rand yields more than fifty per cent of theentire gold supply and ranks as the most valuable of all gold fields. Ninety-five per cent of the diamond output comes from the Kimberley andassociated mines, German South-West Africa, and the Congo. The Katangacontains probably the greatest reserve of copper in existence. Now youcan see why the eye of the universe is being focused on this region. 

II

When I left Elizabethville I bade farewell to the comforts of life. Imean, for example, such things as ice, bath-tubs, and running water. There is enough water in the Congo to satisfy the most ardent teetotalerbut unfortunately it does not come out of faucets. Most of it flows inrivers, but very little of it gets inside the population, white orotherwise. 

Speaking of water brings to mind one of the useful results of such atrip as mine. Isolation in the African wilds gives you a newappreciation of what in civilization is regarded as the commonplacethings. Take the simple matter of a hair-cut. There are only two barbersin the whole Congo. One is at Elizabethville and the other at Kinshassa, on the Lower Congo, nearly two thousand miles away. My locks were notshorn for seven weeks. I had to do what little trimming there was donewith a safety razor and it involved quite an acrobatic feat. Takeshaving. The water in most of the Congo rivers is dirty and full ofgerms. More than once I lathered my face with mineral water out of abottle. The Congo River proper is a muddy brown. For washing purposes itmust be treated with a few tablets of permanganate of potassium whichcolours it red. It is like bathing in blood. 

Since my journey from Katanga onward was through the heart of Africa, perhaps it may be worth while to tell briefly of the equipment requiredfor such an expedition. Although I travelled for the most part in thegreatest comfort that the Colony afforded, it was necessary to preparefor any emergency. In the Congo you must be self-sufficient andabsolutely independent of the country. This means that you carry yourown bed and bedding (usually a folding camp-bed), bath-tub, food, medicine-chest, and cooking utensils. 

No detail was more essential than the mosquito net under which I sleptevery night for nearly four months. Insects are the bane of Africa. Themosquito carries malaria, and the tsetse fly is the harbinger of thatmost terrible of diseases, sleeping sickness. Judging from personalexperience nearly every conceivable kind of biting bug infests theCongo. One of the most tenacious and troublesome of the little visitorsis the jigger, which has an uncomfortable habit of seeking a soft spotunder the toe-nail. Once lodged it is extremely difficult to get himout. These pests are mainly found in sandy soil and give the Negroes whowalk about barefooted unending trouble. 

No less destructive is the dazzling sun. Five minutes exposure to itwithout a helmet means a prostration and twenty minutes spells death. Stanley called the country so inseparably associated with his name"Fatal Africa, " but he did not mean the death that lay in the murderousblack hand. He had in mind the thousand and one dangers that beset thestranger who does not observe the strictest rules of health and diet. From the moment of arrival the body undergoes an entirely newexperience. Men succumb because they foolishly think they can continuethe habits of civilization. Alcohol is the curse of all the hotcountries. The wise man never takes a drink until the sun sets and then, if he continues to be wise, he imbibes only in moderation. The morning"peg" and the lunch-time cocktail have undermined more health in thetropics than all the flies and mosquitoes combined. 

The Duke of Wellington recommended a formula for India which may well beapplied to the Congo. The doughty old warrior once said:

 I know but one recipe for good health in this country, and that is to live moderately, to drink little or no wine, to use exercise, to keep the mind employed, and, if possible, to keep in good humour with the world. The last is the most difficult, for as you have often observed, there is scarcely a good-tempered man in India. 

If a man will practice moderation in all things, take five grains ofquinine every day, exercise whenever it is possible, and keep his bodyclean, he has little to fear from the ordinary diseases of a countrylike the Congo. It is one of the ironies of civilization that afterpassing unscathed through all the fever country, I caught a cold themoment I got back to steam-heat and all the comforts of home. 

No one would think of using ordinary luggage in the Congo. Everythingmust be packed and conveyed in metal boxes similar to the uniform casesused by British officers in Egypt and India. This is because the whiteant is the prize destroyer of property throughout Africa. He cutsthrough leather and wood with the same ease that a Southern Negro'steeth lacerate watermelon. Leave a pair of shoes on the ground overnight and you will find them riddled in the morning. These ants eat awayfloors and sometimes cause the collapse of houses by wearing away thewooden supports. Another frequent guest is the driver ant, which travelsin armies and frequently takes complete possession of a house. Itdestroys all the vermin but the human inmates must beat a retreat whilethe process goes on. 

Since my return many people have asked me what books I read in theCongo. The necessity for them was apparent. I had more than three monthsof constant travelling, often alone, and for the most part on smallriver boats where there is no deck space for exercise. Mail arrivesirregularly and there were no newspapers. After one or two days theunceasing panorama of tropical forests, native villages, and nakedsavages becomes monotonous. Even the hippopotami which you see in largenumbers, the omnipresent crocodile, and the occasional wild elephant, cease to amuse. You are forced to fall back on that unfailing friend andcompanion, a good book. 

I therefore carried with me the following books in handy volumesize:--Montaigne's Essays, Palgrave's Golden Treasury of English Verse, Lockhart's Life of Napoleon, Autobiography of Cellini, Don Quixote, TheThree Musketeers, Lorna Doone, Prescott's Conquest of Mexico and TheConquest of Peru, Les Miserables, Vanity Fair, Life and Writings ofBenjamin Franklin, Pepys' Diary, Carlyle's French Revolution, The Lastof the Mohicans, Westward Ho, Bleak House, The Pickwick Papers, A Taleof Two Cities, and Tolstoi's War and Peace. When these became exhaustedI was hard put for reading matter. At a post on the Kasai River the onlyEnglish book I could find was Arnold Bennett's The Pretty Lady, whichhad fallen into the hands of an official, who was trying to learnEnglish with it. It certainly gave him a hectic start. 

Then, too, there was the eternal servant problem, no less vexing in thatland of servants than elsewhere. I had cabled to Horner to engage me twopersonal servants or "boys" as they are called in Africa. When I gotto Elizabethville I found that he had secured two. In addition toSwahili, the main native tongue in those parts, one spoke English andthe other French, the official language in the Congo. I did not like thelooks of the English-speaking barbarian so I took a chance on NumberTwo, whose name was Gerome. He was a so-called "educated" native. I wasto find from sad experience that his "education" was largely in thedirection of indolence and inefficiency. I thought that by having a boywith whom I had to speak French I could improve my command of thelanguage. Later on I realized my mistake because my French is anon-conductor of profanity. 

[Illustration: A STATION SCENE AT KONGOLA]

Gerome had a wife. In the Congo, where all wives are bought, the consortconstitutes the husband's fortune, being cook, tiller of the ground, beast-of-burden and slave generally. I had no desire to incumber myselfwith this black Venus, so I made Gerome promise that he would not takeher along. I left him behind at Elizabethville, for I proceeded toFungurume with Horner by automobile. He was to follow by train with myluggage and have the private car, which I had chartered for the journeyto Bukama, ready for me on my arrival. When I showed up at Fungurume thefirst thing I saw was Gerome's wife, with her ample proportions swathedin scarlet calico, sunning herself on the platform of the car. He couldnot bring himself to cook his own food although willing enough to cookmine. 

I paid Gerome forty Belgian francs a month, which, at the rate ofexchange then prevailing, was considerably less than three dollars. Ialso had to give him a weekly allowance of five francs (about thirtycents) for his food. To the American employer of servants these figureswill be somewhat illuminating and startling. 

One more human interest detail before we move on. In Africa every whiteman gets a name from the natives. This appellation usually expresses hischief characteristic. The first title fastened on me was "_Bwana ChaCha_, " which means "The Master Who is Quick. " When I first heard thisname I thought it was a reflection on my appetite because "_Cha Cha_" ispronounced "Chew Chew. " Subsequently, in the Upper Congo and the Kasai Iwas called "_Mafutta Mingi_, " which means "Much Fat. " I must explain inself-defense that in the Congo I ate much more than usual, first becausesomething in the atmosphere makes you hungry, and second, a goodappetite is always an indication of health in the tropics. 

Still another name that I bore was "_Tala Tala_, " which means spectaclesin practically all the Congo dialects. There are nearly two hundredtribes and each has a distinctive tongue. In many sections that Ivisited the natives had never seen a pair of tortoise shell glasses suchas I wear during the day. The children fled from me shrieking in terrorand thinking that I was a sorcerer. Even gifts of food, the oneuniversal passport to the native heart, failed to calm their fears. 

The Congo native, let me add, is a queer character. The more I saw ofhim, the greater became my admiration for King Leopold. In his presentstate the only rule must be a strong rule. No one would ever think ofthanking a native for a service. It would be misunderstood because theblack man out there mistakes kindness for weakness. You must be firm butjust. Now you can see why explorers, upon emerging from long stays inthe jungle, appear to be rude and ill-mannered. It is simply becausethey had to be harsh and at times unfeeling, and it becomes a habit. Stanley, for example, was often called a boor and a brute when inreality he was merely hiding a fine nature behind the armour necessaryto resist native imposition and worse. 

III

The private car on which I travelled from Fungurume to Bukama was myfinal taste of luxury. When Horner waved me a good-bye north I realizedthat I was divorcing myself from comfort and companionship. In thirtyhours I was in sun-scorched Bukama, the southern rail-head of theCape-to-Cairo Route and my real jumping-off place before plunging intothe mysteries of Central Africa. 

Here begins the historic Lualaba, which is the initial link in thealmost endless chain of the Congo River. I at once went aboard the firstof the boats which were to be my habitation intermittently for so manyweeks. It was the "Louis Cousin, " a 150-ton vessel and a fair example ofthe draft which provides the principal means of transportation in theCongo. Practically all transit not on the hoof, so to speak, in theColony is by water. There are more than twelve thousand miles of riversnavigable for steamers and twice as many more accessible for canoes andlaunches. Hence the river-boat is a staple, and a picturesque one atthat. 

The "Louis Cousin" was typical of her kind both in appointment, orrather the lack of it, and human interest details. Like all her sistersshe resembles the small Ohio River boats that I had seen in my boyhoodat Louisville. All Congo steam craft must be stern-wheelers, firstbecause they usually haul barges on either side, and secondly becausethere are so many sand-banks. The few cabins--all you get is the bareroom--are on the upper deck, which is the white man's domain, while theboiler and freight--human and otherwise--are on the lower. This is thebailiwick of the black. These boats always stop at night for wood, theonly fuel, and the natives are compelled to go ashore and sleep on thebank. 

The Congo river-boat is a combination of fortress, hotel, and menagerie. Like the "accommodation" train in our own Southern States, it is mostobliging because it will stop anywhere to enable a passenger to get offand do a little shopping, or permit the captain to take a meal ashorewith a friendly State official yearning for human society. 

The river captain is a versatile individual for he is steward, doctor, postman, purveyor of news, and dictator in general. He alone makes theschedule of each trip, arriving and departing at will. Time in the Congocounts for naught. It is in truth the land of leisure. For the man whowants to move fast, water travel is a nightmare. Accustomed as I was toswift transport, I spent a year every day. 

The skipper of the "Louis Cousin" was no exception to his kind. He was a big Norwegian named Behn, --many of his colleagues areScandinavians, --and he had spent eighteen years in the Congo. He knewevery one of the thousand nooks, turns, snags and sand-bars of theLualaba. One of the first things that impressed me was the uncannyingenuity with which all the Congo boats are navigated through whatseems at first glance to be a mass of vegetation and obstruction. 

The bane of traffic is the sand-bar, which on account of the swiftcurrents everywhere, is an eternally changing quantity. Hence a nativeis constantly engaged in taking soundings with a long stick. You canhear his not unmusical voice, from the moment the boat starts until sheties up for the night. The native word for water is "_mia_. " Whenever Iheard the cry "_mia mitani_, " I knew that we were all right because thatmeant five feet of water. With the exception of the Congo River no boatcan draw more than three feet because in the dry season even themightiest of streams declines to an almost incredibly low level. 

My white fellow passengers on the "Louis Cousin" were mostly Belgians ontheir way home by way of Stanleyville and the Congo River, after yearsof service in the Colony. We all ate together in the tiny dining saloonforward with the captain, who usually provides the "chop, " as it iscalled. I now made the acquaintance of goat as an article of food. Theyoung nanny is not undesirable as an occasional novelty but when she isserved up to you every day, it becomes a trifle monotonous. 

The one rival of the goat in the Congo daily menu is the chicken, themainstay of the country. I know a man who spent six years in the Congoand he kept a record of every fowl he consumed. When he started for homethe total registered exactly three thousand. It is no uncommonexperience. Occasionally a friendly hunter brought antelope or buffaloaboard but goat and fowl, reinforced by tinned goods and an occasionalegg, constituted the bill of fare. You may wonder, perhaps, that in acountry which is a continuous chicken-coop, there should be a scarcityof eggs. The answer lies in the fact that during the last few years thenatives have conceived a sudden taste for eggs. Formerly they wereafraid to eat them. 

Of course, there was always an abundance of fruit. You can getpineapples, grape fruit, oranges, bananas and a first cousin of thecantaloupe, called the _pei pei_, which when sprinkled with lime juiceis most delicious. Bananas can be purchased for five cents a bunch ofone hundred. It is about the only cheap thing in the Congo exceptservants. 

[Illustration: A NATIVE MARKET AT KINDU]

Not all my fellow passengers were desirable companions. At Bukana fivenaked savages, all chained together by the neck, were brought aboard incharge of three native soldiers. When I asked the captain who and whatthey were he replied, "They are cannibals. They ate two of their fellowtribesmen back in the jungle last week and they are going down the riverto be tried. " These were the first eaters of human flesh that I saw inthe Congo. One conspicuous detail was their teeth which were all fileddown to sharp points. I later discovered that these wolf teeth, as theymight be called, are common to all the Congo cannibals. The punishmentfor cannibalism is death, although every native, whatever his offence, is given a trial by the Belgian authorities. 

So far as employing the white man as an article of diet is concerned, cannibalism has ceased in the Congo. Some of the tribes, however, stillregard the flesh of their own kind as the last word in edibles. Thepractice must be carried on in secret. To have partaken of the humanbody has long been regarded as an act which endows the consumer withalmost supernatural powers. The cannibal has always justified hisprocedure in a characteristic way. When the early explorers andmissionaries protested against the barbarous performance they wereinvariably met with this reply, "You eat fowl and goats and we eat men. What is the difference?" There seems to have been a particular lure inwhat the native designated as "food that once talked. "

In the days when cannibalism was rampant, the liver of the white man waslooked upon as a special delicacy for the reason that it was supposed totransmit the knowledge and courage of its former owner. There was also atradition that once having eaten the heart of the white, no harm couldcome to the barbarian who performed this amiable act. Although theseodious practices have practically ceased except in isolated instances, the Congo native, in boasting of his strength, constantly speaks of hisliver, and not of his heart. 

It was on the Lualaba, after the boat had tied up for the night, that Icaught the first whisper of the jungle. In Africa Nature is in herfrankest mood but she expresses herself in subdued tones. All my life Ihad read of the witchery of these equatorial places, but no descriptionis ever adequate. You must live with them to catch the magic. Nopainter, for instance, can translate to canvas the elusive andever-changing verdure of the dense forests under the brilliant tropicalsun, nor can those elements of mystery with their suggestion of wildbird and beast that lurk everywhere at night, be reproduced. Life flowson like a moving dream that is exotic, enervating, yet intoxicating. 

Accustomed as I was to dense populations, the loneliness of the Lualabawas weird and haunting. On the Mississippi, Ohio, and Hudson rivers inAmerica and on the Seine, the Thames, and the Spree in Europe, you seecongested human life and hear a vast din. In Africa, and with thepossible exception of some parts of the Nile, Nature reigns with almostundisputed sway. Settlements appear at rare intervals. You onlyencounter an occasional native canoe. The steamers frequently tie up atnight at some sand-bank and you fall asleep invested by an uncannysilence. 

I spent six days on the Lualaba where we made many stops to take on andput off freight. Many of these halts were at wood-posts where our supplyof fuel was renewed. At one post I found a lonely Scotch trader who hadbeen in the Congo fifteen years. Every night he puts on his kilts andparades through the native village playing the bagpipes. It is his onetouch with home. At another place I had a brief visit with anotherScotchman, a veteran of the World War, who had established a prosperousplantation and who goes about in a khaki kilt, much to the joy of thenatives, who see in his bare knees a kinship with themselves. 

At Kabalo I touched the war zone. This post marks the beginning of therailway that runs eastward to Lake Tanganyika and which Rhodes includedin one of his Cape-to-Cairo routes. Along this road travelled thethousands of Congo fighting men on their way to the scene of hostilitiesin German East Africa. 

When the Great War broke out the Belgian Colonial Government held thatthe Berlin Treaty of 1885, entitled "A General Act Relating toCivilization in Africa" and prohibiting warfare in the Congo basin, should be enforced. This treaty gave birth to the Congo Free State andmade it an international and peaceful area under Belgian sovereignty. Following their usual fashion the Germans looked upon this document as a"scrap of paper" and attached Lukuga. This forced the Belgian Congo intothe conflict. About 20, 000 native troops were mobilized and under thecommand of General Tambeur, who is now Vice-Governor General of theKatanga, co-operated with the British throughout the entire East Africancampaign. The Belgians captured Tabora, one of the German strongholds, and helped to clear the Teuton out of the country. 

Lake Tanganyika was the scene of one of the most brilliant andspectacular naval battles of the war. Two British motor launches, whichwere conveyed in sections all the way from England, sank a Germangunboat and disabled another, thus purging those waters of the German. The lake was of great strategic importance for the transport of food andmunitions for the Allied troops in German East Africa. It is one of theloveliest inland bodies of water in the world for it is fringed withwooded heights and is navigable throughout its entire length of fourhundred miles. Ujiji, on its eastern shore, is the memorable spot whereStanley found Livingstone. The house where the illustrious missionarylived still stands, and is an object of veneration both for black andwhite visitors. 

From Kabalo I proceeded to Kongolo, where navigation on the Lualabatemporarily ends. It is the usual Congo settlement with the officialresidence of the Commissaire of the District, office of the NativeCommissioner, and a dozen stores. It is also the southern rail-head ofthe Chemin de Fer Grands Lacs, which extends to Stanleyville. Early inthe morning I boarded what looked to me like a toy train, for it wastinier than any I had ever seen before, and started for Kindu. Thejourney occupies two days and traverses a highly Arabized section. 

Back in the days when Tippo Tib, the friend of Stanley, was king of theArab slave traders, this area was his hunting ground. Many of thenatives are Mohammedans and wear turbans and long flowing robes. Theircleanliness is in sharp contrast with the lack of sanitary precautionsobserved by the average unclothed native. The only blacks who wash everyday in the Congo are those who live on the rivers. The favorite methodof cleansing in the bush country is to scrape off a week's or a month'saccumulation of mud with a stick or a piece of glass. 

In the Congo the trains, like the boats, stop for the night. Variouscauses are responsible for the procedure. In the early days ofrailroading elephants and other wild animals frequently tore up thetracks. Another contributory reason is that the carriages are only builtfor day travel. Native houses are provided for the traveller atdifferent points on the line. Since everyone carries his own bed it iseasy to establish sleeping quarters without delay or inconvenience. Onthis particular trip I slept at Malela, in the house ordinarily occupiedby the Chief Engineer of the line. The Minister of the Colonies had usedit the night before and it was scrupulously clean. I must admit that Ihave had greater discomfort in metropolitan hotels. 

I was now in the almost absolute domain of the native. The only whitemen that I encountered were an occasional priest and a still moreoccasional trader. At Kibombo the train stopped for the mail. When I gotout to stretch my legs I saw a man and a woman who looked unmistakablyAmerican. The man had Texas written all over him for he was tall andlank and looked as if he had spent his life on the ranges. He cametoward me smiling and said, "The Minister of the Colonies was throughhere yesterday in a special train and he said that an Americanjournalist was following close behind, so I came down to see you. " Theman proved to be J. G. Campbell, who had come to install an Americancotton gin nine kilometers from where we were standing. His wife waswith him and she was the only white woman within two hundred miles. 

Campbell is a link with one of the new Congo industries, which is cottoncultivation. The whole area between Kongolo and Stanleyville, three-fourths of which is one vast tropical forest, has immensestretches ideally adapted for cotton growing. The Belgian Government haslaid out experimental plantations and they are thriving. In 1919 fourthousand acres were cultivated in the Manyema district, six thousand inthe Sankuru-Kasai region, and six hundred in the Lomami territory. Altogether the Colony produced 6, 000, 000 pounds of the raw staple in1920 and some of it was grown by natives who are being taught the art. The Congo Cotton Company has been formed at Brussels with acapitalization of 6, 000, 000 francs, to exploit the new industry, whichis bound to be an important factor in the development of the Congo. Itshows that the ruthless exploitation of the earlier days is succeeded byscientific and constructive expansion. 

Campbell's experience in setting up his American gin discloses theprincipal need of the Congo today which is adequate transport. Betweenits arrival at the mouth of the Congo River and Kibombo the mass ofmachinery was trans-shipped exactly four times, alternately changingfrom rail to river. At Kibombo the 550, 000 pounds of metal had to becarried on the heads of natives to the scene of operations. In the Congopractically every ton of merchandise must be moved by man power--theaverage load is sixty pounds--through the greater part of its journey. 

Late in the afternoon of the day which marked the encounter with theCampbells I reached Kindu, where navigation on the Lualaba is resumedagain. By this time you will have realized something of the difficultyof travelling in this part of the world. It was my third change sinceBukama and more were to come before I reached the Lower Congo. 

[Illustration: NATIVE FISH TRAPS AT STANLEY FALLS]

At Kindu I had a rare piece of luck. I fell in with Louis Franck, theBelgian Minister of the Colonies, to whom I had a letter ofintroduction, and who was making a tour of inspection of the Congo. Hehad landed at Mombassa, crossed British East Africa, visited the newBelgian possessions of Urundi and Ruanda which are spoils of war, andmade his way to Kabalo from Lake Tanganyika. He asked me to accompanyhim to Stanleyville as his guest. I gladly accepted because, aside fromthe personal compensation afforded by his society, it meant immunityfrom worry about the river and train connections. 

Franck represents the new type of Colonial Minister. Instead of being amusty bureaucrat, as so many are, he is a live, alert progressive man ofaffairs who played a big part in the late war. To begin with, he is oneof the foremost admiralty lawyers of Europe. When the Germans occupiedBelgium he at once became conspicuous. He resisted the Teutonic schemeto separate the French and Flemish sections of the ravaged country. After the investment of Antwerp, his native place, accompanied by theBurgomaster and the Spanish Minister, he went to the German Headquartersand made the arrangement by which the city was saved from destruction bybombardment. He delayed this parley sufficiently to enable the BelgianArmy to escape to the Yser. Subsequently his activities on behalf of hiscountrymen made him so distasteful to the Germans that he was imprisonedin Germany for nearly a year. For two months of this time he shared thenoble exile of Monsieur Max, the heroic Burgomaster of Brussels. 

I now became an annex of what amounted to a royal progress. To theBelgian colonial official and to the native, Franck incarnated a sort ofAll Highest. In the Congo all functionaries are called "Bula Matadi, "which means "The Rock Breaker. " It is the name originally bestowed onStanley when he dynamited a road through the rocks of the Lower Congo. Franck, however, was a super "Bula Matadi. " We had a special boat, the"Baron Delbecke, " a one hundred ton craft somewhat similar to the "LouisCousin" but much cleaner, for she had been scrubbed up for the journey. The Minister, his military aide, secretary and doctor filled the cabins, so I slept in a tent set up on the lower deck. 

With flags flying and thousands of natives on the shore yelling andbeating tom-toms, we started down the Lualaba. The country between Kinduand Ponthierville, our first objective, is thickly populated andimportant settlements dot the banks. Wherever we stopped the nativetroops were turned out and there were long speeches of welcome from thelocal dignitaries. Franck shook as many black and white hands as anAmerican Presidential candidate would in a swing around the circle. Iaccompanied him ashore on all of these state visits and it gave me anexcellent opportunity to see the many types of natives in their Sundayclothes, which largely consist of no clothes at all. This appliesespecially to the female sex, which in the Congo reverses Kipling'stheory because they are less deadly than the male. 

At Lowa occurred a significant episode. This place is the center of animmense native population, but there is only one white resident, theusual Belgium state official. We climbed the hill to his house, wherethirty of the leading chiefs, wearing the tin medal which the BelgianGovernment gives them, shook hands with the Minister. The ranking chief, distinguished by the extraordinary amount of red mud in his wool and thegrotesque devices cut with a knife on his body, made a long speech inwhich he became rather excited. When the agent translated this in Frenchto Franck I gathered that the people were indignant over the advance incost of trade goods, especially salt and calico. Salt is more valuablethan gold in the Congo. Among the natives it is legal tender for everycommodity from a handkerchief to a wife. 

Franck made a little speech in French in reply--it was translated by theinterpreter--in which he said that the Great War had increased the priceof everything. We shook hands all round and there was much muttering of"yambo, " the word for "greeting, " and headed for the boat. 

Halfway down the hill we heard shouting and hissing. We stopped andlooked back. On the crest were a thousand native women, jeering, hooting, and pointing their fingers at the Minister, who immediatelyasked the cause of the demonstration. When the agent called for anexplanation a big black woman said:

"Ask the 'Bula Matadi' why the franc buys so little now? We only get afew goods for a big lot of money. "

I had gone into the wilds to escape from economic unrest and all theconfusion that has followed in its wake, yet here in the heart ofCentral Africa, I found our old friend the High Cost of Living workingovertime and provoking a spirited protest from primitive savages! Itproves that there is neither caste, creed nor colour-line in thepocket-book. Like indigestion, to repeat Mr. Pinero, it is the universalleveller of all ranks. 

IV

On this trip Franck outlined to me his whole colonial creed. It was agorgeous June morning and we had just left a particularly picturesqueArabized village behind us. Hundreds of natives had come out to welcomethe Minister in canoes. They sang songs and played their crude musicalinstruments as they swept alongside our boat. We now sat on the upperdeck and watched the unending panorama of palm trees with here and therea clump of grass huts. 

"All colonial development is a chain which is no stronger than itsweakest link and that is the native, " said the Minister. "As you buildthe native, so do you build the whole colonial structure. Hence theimportance of a high moral standard. You must conform to the native'straditions, mentality and temperament. Give him a technical educationsomething like that afforded by Booker Washington's Tuskegee Institute. Show him how to use his hands. He will then become efficient andtherefore contented. It is a mistake to teach him a European language. Iprefer him to be a first-class African rather than third-class European. 

"The hope of the Congo lies in industrialization on the one hand, andthe creation of new wealth on the other. By new wealth I mean such newcrops as cotton and a larger exploitation of such old products as riceand palm fruit. Rubber has become a second industry although thecultivated plantations are in part taking the place of the old wildforests. The substitute for rubber as the first product of the land isthe fruit of the oil palm tree. This will be the industrial staple ofthe Congo. I believe, however, that in time cotton can be produced inlarge commercial quantities over a wide area. "

Franck now turned to a subject which reflects his courage andprogressiveness. He said, "There is a strong tendency in other Coloniesto give too large a place to State enterprise. The result of this systemis that officers are burdened with an impossible task. They must lookafter the railways, steamers, mills, and a variety of tasks for whichthey often lack the technical knowledge. 

"I have made it a point to give first place to private enterprise and totransfer those activities formerly under State rule to autonomousenterprises in which the State has an interest. They are run by businessmen along business lines as business institutions. The State's principalfunction in them is to protect the native employes. The gold mines atKilo are an example. They are still owned by the State but are worked bya private company whose directors have full powers. The reason why theState does not part with its ownership of these mines is that it doesnot want a rush of gold-seekers. History has proved that in a countrywith a primitive population a gold rush is a dangerous and destructivething. 

"We are always free traders in Belgium and we are glad to welcome anyforeign capital to the Congo. We have already had the constructiveinfluence of American capital in the diamond fields and we will be gladto have more. "

The average man thinks that the Congo and concessions are practicallysynonymous terms. In the Leopold day this was true but there is a newdeal now. Let Monsieur Franck explain it:

"There was a time when huge concessions were freely given in the Congo. They were then necessary because the Colony was new, the countryunknown, and the financial risk large. Now that the economicpossibilities of the region are realized it is not desirable to grantany more large concessions. It is proved that these concessions arereally a handicap rather than a help to a young land. The wise procedureis to have a definite agricultural or industrial aim in mind, and thenpick the locality for exploitation, whether it is gold, cotton, copperor palm fruit. "

"What is the future of the Congo?" I asked. 

"The Congo is now entering upon a big era of development, " was theanswer. "If the Great War had not intervened it would have been wellunder way. Despite the invasion of Belgium, the practical paralysis ofour home industry, and the fact that many of our Congo officials andtheir most highly trained natives were off fighting the Germans in EastAfrica, the Colony more than held its own during those terrible years. In building the new Congo we are going to profit by the example of othercountries and capitalize their knowledge and experience of tropicalhygiene. We propose to combat sleeping sickness, for example, with anagency similar to your Rockefeller Institute of Research in New York. 

"The Congo is bound to become one of the great centers of the worldsupply. The Katanga is not only a huge copper area but it has immensestores of coal, tin, zinc and other valuable commodities. Our diamondfields have scarcely been scraped, while the agricultural possibilitiesof hundreds of thousands of square miles are unlimited. 

"The great need of the Congo is transport. We are increasing our riverfleets and we propose to introduce on them a type of barge similar tothat used on the Ohio and the Mississippi Rivers. 

"An imposing program of railway expansion is blocked out. For one thingwe expect to run a railway from the Katanga copper belt straight acrosscountry to Kinshassa on the Lower Congo. It is already surveyed. Thiswill tap a thickly populated region and enable the diamond mines of theKasai to get the labour they need so sorely. The Robert Williams railwaythrough Angola will be another addition to our transportationfacilities. One of the richest regions of the Congo is the north-easternsection. The gold mines at Kilo are now only accessible by river. Weplan to join them up with the railway to be built from Stanleyville tothe Soudan border. This will link the Congo River and the Nile. With ourrailroads as with our industrial enterprises, we stick to privateownership and operation with the State as a partner. 

"The new provinces of Ruanda and Urundi will contribute much to ourfuture prosperity. They add millions of acres to our territory and3, 000, 000 healthy and prosperous natives to our population. These newpossessions have two distinct advantages. One is that they provide aninvigorating health resort which will be to the Central Congo what theKatanga is to the Southern. The other is that, being an immense cattlecountry--there is a head of live stock for every native--we will be ableto secure fresh meat and dairy products, which are sorely needed. 

"The Congo is not only the economic hope of Belgium but it is teachingthe Belgian capitalist to think in broad terms. Henceforth the businessman of all countries must regard the universe as his field. As apractical commercial proposition it pays, both with nations as withindividuals. We have found that the possession of the Congo, huge as itis, and difficult for a country like ours to develop, is a stimulatingthing. It is quickening our enterprise and widening our world view. "

It would be difficult to find a more practical or comprehensive colonialprogram. It eliminates that bane of over-seas administration, red tape, and it puts the task of empire-building squarely up to the business manwho is the best qualified for the work. I am quite certain that theadvent of Monsieur Franck into office, and particularly his trip to theCongo, mean the beginning of an epoch of real and permanent exploitationin the Congo. 

[Illustration: THE MASSIVE BANGALAS]

[Illustration: CONGO WOMEN IN STATE DRESS]

CHAPTER V--ON THE CONGO RIVER

I

Two days more of travelling on the Lower Lualaba brought us toPonthierville, a jewel of a post with a setting of almost bewilderingtropical beauty. Here we spent the night on the boat and early thefollowing morning boarded a special train for Stanleyville, which isonly six hours distant by rail. Midway we crossed the Equator. 

Thirty miles south of Stanleyville is the State Experimental Coffee Farmof three hundred acres, which produces fifteen different species of thebean. This institution is one evidence of a comprehensive agriculturaldevelopment inaugurated by the Belgian Government. The State has about10, 000 acres of test plantations, mostly Para rubber, cotton, and cacao, in various parts of the Colony. 

One commendable object of this work is to instill the idea ofcrop-growing among the natives. Under ordinary circumstances the man ofcolour in the tropics will only raise enough maize, manioc, or tobaccofor his own needs. The Belgian idea is to encourage co-operative farmingin the villages. In the region immediately adjacent to Stanleyville thenatives have begun to plant cotton over a considerable area. At KongoloI saw hundreds of acres of this fleecy plant under the sole supervisionof the indigenes. 

Stanleyville marked one of the real mileposts of my journey. Here cameStanley on his first historic expedition across Central Africa anddiscovered the falls nearby that bear his name; here he set up theStation that marked the Farthest East of the expedition which foundedthe Congo Free State. Directly south-east of the town are seven distinctcataracts which extend over fifty miles of seething whirlpools. 

Stanleyville is the head of navigation on the Congo and like Paris, isbuilt on two sides of the river. On the right bank is the place of theVice-Governor General, scores of well stocked stores, and many desirableresidences. The streets are long avenues of palm trees. The left bank isalmost entirely given over to the railway terminals, yards, and repairshops. My original plan was to live with the Vice-Governor General, Monsieur de Meulemeester, but his establishment was so taxed by thedemands of the Ministerial party that I lodged with Monsieur Theews, Chief Engineer of the Chemin de Fer des Grands Lacs, where I was mostcomfortable in a large frame bungalow that commanded a superb view ofthe river and the town. 

At Stanleyville the Minister of the Colonies had a great reception. Fivehundred native troops looking very smart were drawn up in the plaza. Onthe platform of the station stood the Vice-Governor General and staff inspotless white uniforms, their breasts ablaze with decorations. On allsides were thousands of natives in gay attire who cheered and chantedwhile the band played the Belgian national anthem. Over it all waved theflag of Belgium. It was a stirring spectacle not without its touch ofthe barbaric, and a small-scale replica of what you might have seen atDelhi or Cairo on a fête day. 

I was only mildly interested in all this tumult and shouting. Whatconcerned me most was the swift, brown river that flowed almost at ourfeet. At last I had reached the masterful Congo, which, with the soleexception of the Amazon, is the mightiest stream in the world. As Ilooked at it I thought of Stanley and his battles on its shores, and thehardship and tragedy that these waters had witnessed. 

Stanleyville is not only the heart of Equatorial Africa but it is alsoan important administrative point. Hundreds of State officials report tothe Vice-Governor General there, and on national holidays and occasionslike the visit of the Colonial Minister, it can muster a gay assemblage. Monsieur Franck's presence inspired a succession of festivitiesincluding a garden party which was attended by the entire whitepopulation numbering about seventy-five. There was also a formal dinnerwhere I wore evening clothes for the first and only time betweenElizabethville and the steamer that took me to Europe three monthslater. 

At the garden party Monsieur Franck made a graceful speech in which hesaid that the real missionaries of African civilization were the wiveswho accompanied their husbands to their lonely posts in the field. Whathe said made a distinct impression upon me for it was not only the truthbut it emphasized a detail that stands out in the memory of everyone whovisits this part of the world. I know of no finer heroines than thesewomen comrades of colonial officials who brave disease and discomfort toshare the lives of their mates. For one thing, they give the native anew respect for his masters. All white women in the Congo are called"mamma" by the natives. 

The use of "mamma" by the African natives always strikes the newcomer asstrange. It is a curious fact that practically the first word uttered bythe black infant is "mamma, " and in thousands of cases the finalutterance of both adult male and female is the same word. In northernRhodesia and many parts of the Congo the native mother frequently refersto her child as a "piccannin" which is almost the same word employed bycoloured people in the American South. 

Stanleyville's social prestige is only equalled by her economicimportance. It is one of the great ivory markets of the world. Duringthe last two years this activity has undergone fluctuations that almostput Wall Street to the blush. 

During the war there was very little trafficking in ivory because it wasa luxury. With peace came a big demand and the price soared to more than200 francs a kilo. The ordinary price is about forty. One trader atStanleyville cleaned up a profit of 3, 000, 000 francs in three months. Then came the inevitable reaction and with it a unique situation. Intheir mad desire to corral ivory the traders ran up the normal pricethat the native hunters received. The moment the boom burst the whitebuyers sought to regulate their purchases accordingly. The native, however, knows nothing about the law of demand and supply and he holdsout for the boom price. The outcome is that hundreds of tons of ivoryare piled up in the villages and no power on earth can convince thesavage that there is such a thing as the ebb and flow of price. Such iscommercial life in the jungle. 

Northeast of Stanleyville lie the most important gold mines in theColony. The precious metal was discovered accidentally some years ago inthe gravel of small rivers west of Lake Albert, and near the small townsof Kilo and Moto. Four mines are now worked in this vicinity, two by theGovernment and two by a private company. At the outbreak of the war thisarea was on the verge of considerable development which has just beenresumed. At the time of my visit all these mines were placers and theoperation was rather primitive. With modern machinery and enlarged whitestaffs will come a pretentious exploitation. The Government mines aloneyield more than $2, 000, 000 worth of gold every year. Shortly before myarrival in the Congo what was heralded as the largest gold nugget everdiscovered was found in the Kilo State Mine. It weighed twelve pounds. 

Stanleyville has a significance for me less romantic but infinitely morepractical than the first contact with the Congo River. After long weeksof suffering from inefficient service I sacked Gerome and annexed a boynamed Nelson. The way of it was this: In the Katanga I engaged a youngBelgian who was on his way home, to act as secretary. He knew the nativelanguages and could always convince the most stubborn black to part withan egg. Nelson was his servant. He was born on the Rhodesian border andspoke English. I could therefore upbraid him to my heart's content, which was not the case with Gerome. Besides, he was not handicapped witha wife. In Africa the servants adopt the names of their masters. Nelsonhad worked for an Englishman at Elizabethville and acquired hiscognomen. I have not the slightest doubt that he now masquerades undermine. Be that as it may, Nelson was a model servant and he remained withme until that September day when I boarded the Belgium-bound boat atMatadi. 

Nelson reminded me more of the Georgia Negro than any other one that Isaw in the Congo. He was almost coal black, he smiled continuously, andhis teeth were wonderful to look at. He had an unusual capacity forwork and also for food. I think he was the champion consumer of_chikwanga_ in the Congo. The _chikwanga_ is a glutinous dough made fromthe pounded root of the manioc plant and is the principal food of thenative. It is rolled and cut up in pieces and then wrapped in greenleaves. The favorite way of preparing it for consumption is to heat itin palm oil, although it is often eaten raw. Nelson bought these_chikwangas_ by the dozen. He was never without one. He even ate as hewashed my clothes. 

The Congo native is in a continuous state of receptivity when it comesto food. Nowhere in the world have I seen people who ate so much. I haveoffered the leavings of a meal to a savage just after he had apparentlygorged himself and he "wolfed" it as if he were famished. The invariablecustom in the Congo is to have one huge meal a day. On this occasionevery member of the family consumes all the edibles in sight. Then thecrowd lays off until the following day. All food offered in the meantimeby way of gratuity or otherwise is devoured on the spot. 

In connection with the _chikwanga_ is an interesting fact. The Congonatives all die young--I only saw a dozen old men--because they areinsufficiently nourished. The _chikwanga_ is filling but not fattening. This is why sleeping sickness takes such dreadful toll. From anestimated population of 30, 000, 000 in Stanley's day the indigenes havedwindled to less than one-third this number. Meat is a luxury. Althoughthe natives have chickens in abundance they seldom eat one for thereason that it is more profitable to sell them to the white man. 

It is not surprising, therefore, that the Congo native suffers fromailments. Unlike the average small boy of civilization, he delightsin taking medicine. I suppose that he regards it as just another form offood. You hear many amusing stories in connection with medicinalarticles. When you give a savage a dozen effective pills, for example, and tell him to take one every night, he usually swallows them all atone time and then he wonders why the results are disastrous. A sorcererin the Upper Congo region once obtained what was widely acclaimed asmiraculous results from a red substance that he got out of a tin. Itdeveloped that he had stolen a can of potted beef and was using it as"medicine. "

[Illustration: CENTRAL AFRICAN PYGMIES]

Stanleyville was called the center of the old Arab slave trade. Whilethe odious traffic has long ceased to exist, you occasionally meet anold native who bears the scars of battle with the marauders and who cantell harrowing tales of the cruelties they inflicted. 

The slave raiders began their operations in the Congo in 1877, the sameyear in which Stanley made his historic march across Africa fromZanzibar to the north of the Congo. It was the great explorer whounconsciously blazed the way for the man-hunters. They followed him downthe Lualaba River as far as Stanley Falls and discovered what was tothem a real human treasure-trove. For twenty years they blighted thecountry, carrying off tens of thousands of men, women and children andslaughtering thousands in addition. This region was a cannibalstronghold and one bait that lured local allies was the promise of thebodies of all natives slain, for consumption. Belgian pioneers in theCongo who co-operated with the late Baron Dhanis who finally put downthe slave trade, have told me that it was no infrequent sight to beholdnative women going off to their villages with baskets of human flesh. They were part of the spoils of this hideous warfare. 

Tippo Tib was lord of this slave-trading domain. This astounding rascalhad a distinct personality. He was a master trader and drove the hardestbargain in all Africa. Livingstone, Cameron, Stanley, and Wissmann alldid business with him, for he had a monopoly on porters and no one couldproceed without his help. He invariably waited until the white manreached the limit of his resources and then exacted the highest price, in true Shylockian fashion. 

According to Herbert Ward, the well-known African artist and explorer, who accompanied Stanley on the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition, Tippo Tibwas something of a philosopher. On one occasion Ward spent the eveningwith the old Arab. He occupied a wretched house. Rain dripped in throughthe roof, rats scuttled across the floor, and wind shook the walls. Whenthe Englishman expressed his astonishment that so rich and powerful achief should dwell in such a mean abode Tippo Tib said:

"It is better that I should live in a house like this because it makesme remember that I am only an ordinary man like others. If I lived in afine house with comforts I should perhaps end by thinking too much ofmyself. "

Ward also relates another typical story about this blood-thirsty bandit. A missionary once called him to account for the frightful barbarities hehad perpetrated, whereupon he received the following reply:

"Ah, yes! You see I was then a young man. Now my hair is turning gray. Iam an old man and shall have more consideration. "

Until his death in 1907 at Zanzibar, Tippo Tib and reformation wereabsolute strangers. He embodied that combination of cruelty andreligious fanaticism so often found in the Arab. He served his God andthe devil with the same relentless devotion. He incarnated a type thathappily has vanished from the map of Africa. 

The region around Stanleyville is rich with historic interest andassociation. The great name inseparably and immortally linked with it isthat of Stanley. Although he found Livingstone, relieved Emin Pasha, first traversed the Congo River, and sowed the seeds of civilizationthroughout the heart of the continent, his greatest single achievement, perhaps, was the founding of the Congo Free State. No other enterprisetook such toll of his essential qualities and especially his genius fororganization. 

Stanley is most widely known as an explorer, yet he was, at the sametime, one of the master civilizers. He felt that his Congo adventurewould be incomplete if he did not make the State a vast productiveregion and the home of the white man. He longed to see it a Britishpossession and it was only after he offered it twice to England and wastwice rebuffed, that he accepted the invitation of King Leopold II toorganize the stations under the auspices of the International AfricanAssociation, which was the first step toward Belgian sovereignty. 

I have talked with many British and Belgian associates of Stanley. Without exception they all acclaim his sterling virtues both in thephysical and spiritual sense. All agree that he was a hard man. The bestexplanation of this so-called hardness is given by Herbert Ward, whoonce spoke to him about it. Stanley's reply was, "You've got to be hard. If you're not hard you're weak. There are only two sides to it. "

Stanley always declared that his whole idea of life and work wereembodied in the following maxim: "The three M's are all we need. Theyare Morals, Mind and Muscles. These must be cultivated if we wish to beimmortal. " To an astonishing degree he worked and lived up to theseprinciples. 

No explorer, not even Peary in the Arctic wilds, was ever prey to alarger isolation than this man. In the midst of the multitude he wasalone. He shunned intimacy and one of his mournful reflections was, "Ihave had no friend on any expedition, no one who could possibly be mycompanion on an equal footing, except while with Livingstone. "

I cannot resist the impulse to make comparison between those twooutstanding Englishmen, Rhodes and Stanley, whose lives are intimatelywoven into the fabric of African romance. They had much in common andyet they were widely different in purpose and temperament. Each was anautocrat and brooked no interference. Each had the same kindling idealof British imperialism. Each suffered abuse at the hands of hiscountrymen and lived to witness a triumphant vindication. 

Stanley had a rare talent for details--he went on the theory that if youwanted a thing done properly you must do it yourself--but Rhodes onlysaw things in a big way and left the interpretation to subordinates. Stanley was devoutly religious while Rhodes paid scant attention to thespiritual side. Each was a dreamer in his own way and merely regardedmoney as a means to an end. Rhodes, however, was far more disdainful ofwealth as such, than Stanley, who received large sums for his books andlectures. It is only fair to him to say that he never took pecuniaryadvantage of the immense opportunities that his explorations in theCongo afforded. 

Still another intrepid Englishman narrowly missed having a big rôle inthe drama of the Congo. General Gordon agreed to assume the Governorshipof the Lower Congo under Stanley, who was to be the Chief Administratorof the Upper Congo. They were to unite in one grand effort to crush theslave trade. Fate intervened. Gordon meanwhile was asked by the BritishGovernment to go to Egypt, then in the throes of the Mahdist uprising. He went to his martyrdom at Khartoum, and Stanley continued his workalone in Central Africa. 

While Stanley established its most enduring traditions, other heroicsoldiers and explorers, contributed to the roll of fame of the UpperCongo region. Conspicuous among them was Captain Deane, an Englishmanwho fought the Arab slave traders at Stanley Falls and who figured in asuccession of episodes that read like the most romantic fiction. 

With less than a hundred native troops recruited from the West Coast ofAfrica, he defended the State Station founded by Stanley at the Fallsagainst thousands of Arab raiders. Most of the caps in his riflecartridges were rendered useless by dampness and the Captain and hissecond in command, Lieutenant Dubois, a Belgian officer, fought shoulderto shoulder with his men in the hand-to-hand struggle that ensued. Subsequently practically all the natives deserted and Deane was leftwith Dubois and four loyal blacks. Under cover of darkness they escapedfrom the island on which the Station was located. On this journey Duboiswas drowned. 

For thirty days Deane and his four faithful troopers wandered throughthe forests, hiding during the day from their ferocious pursuers andsleeping in trees at night. On the thirtieth day he was captured by thesavages. Unarmed, he sank to the ground overcome with weariness. A bignative stood over him with his spear poised for the fatal thrust. Amoment later the Englishman was surprised to see his enemy lower theweapon and grasp him by the hand. He had succored this savage two yearsbefore and had not been forgotten. Deane and his companions wereconvoyed under an escort to Herbert Ward's camp and he was nursed backto health. 

Deane's death illustrates the irony that entered into the passing of somany African adventurers. Twelve months after he was snatched from thejaws of death on the banks of the Congo in the manner just described, hewas killed while hunting elephants. A wounded beast impaled him on atusk and then mauled him almost beyond recognition. 

II

Since Stanleyville is the head of navigation on the Congo there isordinarily no lack of boats. I was fortunate to be able to embark on the"Comte de Flandre, " the Mauretania of those inland seas and the mostimposing vessel on the river for she displaced five hundred tons. Sheflew the flag of the Huileries du Congo Belge, the palm oil concernfounded by Lord Leverhulme and the most important all-British commercialinterest in the Congo. She was one of a fleet of ten boats that operateon the Congo, the Kasai, the Kwilu and other rivers. I not only had acomfortable cabin but the rarest of luxuries in Central Africa, aregulation bathtub, was available. The "Comte de Flandre" had cabinaccommodations for fourteen whites. The Captain was an Englishman andthe Chief Engineer a Scotchman. 

On this, as on most of the other Congo boats, the food is provided bythe Captain, to whom the passengers pay a stipulated sum for meals. Onthe "Comte de Flandre, " however, the food privilege was owned jointly bythe Captain and the Chief Engineer. The latter did all the buying and itwas almost excruciatingly funny to watch him driving real Scotchbargains with the natives who came aboard at the various stops to sellchickens, goats, and fruit. The engineer could scarcely speak a word ofany of the native languages, but he invariably got over the fact thatthe price demanded was too high. 

The passenger list of the "Comte de Flandre" included Englishmen, Belgians, Italians, and Portuguese. I was the only American. Thesteerage, firemen, and wood-boys were all blacks. With thisinternational congress over which beamed the broad smile of Nelson, Istarted on the thousand-mile trip down the Congo River. 

It is difficult to convey the impression that the Congo River gives. Serene and majestic, it is often well-nigh overwhelming in itsimmensity. Between Stanleyville and Kinshassa there are four thousandislands, some of them thirty miles in length. As the boat picks its waythrough them you feel as if you were travelling through an endlesstropical park of which the river provides the paths. It has been wellcalled a "Venice of Vegetation. " The shores are brilliant with avariegated growth whose exotic smell is wafted out over the waters. Yousee priceless orchids entwined with the mangroves in endless profusion. Behind this verdure stretches the dense equatorial forest in whichStanley battled years ago in an almost impenetrable gloom. Aigrettes andbirds of paradise fly on all sides and every hour reveals a hideouscrocodile sunning himself on a sandspit. 

Night on the Congo enhances the loneliness that you feel on all theCentral African rivers. Although the settlements are more numerous andlarger than those on the Lualaba and the Kasai, there is the samefeeling of isolation the moment darkness falls. The jungle seems to bean all-embracing monster who mocks you with his silence. Joseph Conradinterpreted this atmosphere when he referred to it as having "astillness of life that did not resemble peace, --the silence of animplacable force brooding over an inscrutable intention. " This is theCongo River. 

The more I saw of the Congo River--it is nearly twice as large as theMississippi--the more I realized that it is in reality a parent ofwaters. It has half a dozen tributaries that range in length from 500 to1, 000 miles each. The most important are the Lualaba and the Kasai. Others include the Itimbiri, the Aruwimi and the Mubangi. Scores ofsmaller streams, many of them navigable for launches, empty into themain river. This is why there is such a deep and swift current in thelower region where the Congo enters the sea. 

[Illustration: WOMEN MAKING POTTERY]

[Illustration: THE CONGO PICKANINNY]

The astonishing thing about the Congo River is its inconsistency. Although six miles wide in many parts it is frequently not more than sixfeet deep. This makes navigation dangerous and difficult. As on theLualaba and every other river in the Colony, soundings must be takencontinually. This extraordinary discrepancy between width and depthreminds me of the designation of the Platte River in Nebraska by aKansas statesman which was, "A river three-quarters of a mile wide andthree-quarters of an inch deep. " Thus the Congo journey takes on aconstant element of hazard because you do not know what moment you willrun aground on a sand-bank, be impaled on a snag, or strike a rock. 

Although the "Comte de Flandre" was rated as the fastest craft on theCongo our progress was unusually slow because of the scarcity of woodfor fuel. This seems incredible when you consider that the whole CongoBasin is one vast forest. Millions of trees stand ready to be sacrificedto the needs of man, yet there are no hands to cut them. In the Congo, as throughout this distracted world, the will-to-work is a lost art, noless manifest among the savages than among their civilized brothers. Theordinary native will only labour long enough to provide himself withsufficient money to buy a month's supply of food. Then he quits andjoins the leisure class. Hence wood-hunting on the Congo vies with thetrip itself as a real adventure. The competition between river captainsfor fuel is so keen that a skipper will sometimes start his boat atthree o'clock in the morning and risk an accident in the dark in orderto beat a rival to a wood supply. 

All up and down the river are wood-posts. Most of them are owned by thesteamship companies. It was our misfortune to find most of thempractically stripped of their supplies. A journey which ordinarily takestwelve days consumed twenty. But there were many compensations and I hadno quarrel with the circumstance:

I had the good fortune to witness that rarest of sights that falls tothe lot of the casual traveller--a serious fight between natives. Westopped at a native wood-post--(some of them are operated by theoccasionally industrious blacks)--for fuel. The whole village turned outto help load the logs. In the midst of the process a crowd of nativesmade their appearance, armed with spears and shields. They began totaunt the men and women who were loading our boat. I afterwards learnedthat they owned a wood-post nearby and were disgruntled because we hadnot patronized them. They blamed their neighbours for it. Almost beforewe realized it a pitched battle was in progress in which spears werethrown and men and women were laid out in a generally bloody fracas. Oneman got an assegai through his throat and it probably inflicted a fatalwound. 

In the midst of the mêlée one of my fellow passengers, a Catholic priestnamed Father Brandsma, courageously dashed in between the flying spearsand logs of wood and separated the combatants. This incident shows thehostility that still exists between the various tribes in the Congo. Itconstitutes one excellent reason why there can never be any concerteduprising against the whites. There is no single, strong, cohesive nativedynasty. 

Father Brandsma was one of the finest men I met in the Congo. He was amember of the society of priests which has its headquarters at Mill Hillin England. He came aboard the boat late one night when we were tied upat Bumba, having ridden a hundred miles on his bicycle along the nativetrails. We met the following morning in the dining saloon. I sat at atable writing letters and he took a seat nearby and started to make somenotes in a book. When we finished I addressed him in French. He answeredin flawless English. He then told me that he had spent fifteen years inUganda, where he was at the head of the Catholic Missions. 

The Father was in his fifth year of service in the Congo and hisanalysis of the native situation was accurate and convincing. Amongother things he said, "The great task of the Colonial Government is toprovide labour for the people. In many localities only one native out ofa hundred works. This idleness must be stopped and the only way to stopit is to initiate highway and other improvements, so as to recruit alarge part of the native population. "

Father Brandsma is devoting some of his energy to a change in copalgathering. This substance, which is found at the roots of trees inswampy and therefore unhealthy country, is employed in the manufactureof varnish. To harvest it the natives stand all day in water up to theirhips and they catch the inevitable colds from which pneumonia develops. Copal gathering is a considerable source of income for many tribes andusually the entire community treks to the marshes. In this way thelives of the women and children are also menaced. The Father believesthat only the men should go forth at certain periods for this work andleave their families behind. 

Father Brandsma was the central actor in a picturesque scene. One Sundaymorning I heard a weird chanting and I arose to discover the cause. Ifound that the priest was celebrating mass for the natives on the maindeck of the boat. Dawn had just broken, and on the improvised altarseveral candles gleamed in the half light. In his vestments the priestwas a striking figure. All about him knelt the score of naked savageswho made up the congregation. They crossed themselves constantly andmade the usual responses. I must confess that the ceremony was strangelymoving and impressive. 

As soon as I reached the Congo River I saw that the natives were biggerand stronger than those of the Katanga and other sections that I hadvisited. The most important of the river tribes are the Bangalas, whoare magnificent specimens of manhood. In Stanley's day they were mastersof a considerable portion of the Upper Congo River region and contestedhis way skilfully and bitterly. They are more peacefully inclined todayand hundreds of them are employed as wood-boys and firemen on the riverboats. 

The Bangalas practice cicatrization to an elaborate extent. This processconsists of opening a portion of the flesh with a knife, injecting anirritating juice into the wound, and allowing the place to swell. Theeffect is to raise a lump or weal. Some of these excrescences are tinybumps and others develop into large welts that disfigure the anatomy. Extraordinary designs are literally carved on the faces and bodies ofthe men and women. Although it is an intensely painful operation, --someof the wounds must be opened many times--the native submits to it withpleasure because the more ornate the design the more resplendent thewearer feels. The women are usually more liberally marked than the men. 

Cicatrization is popular in various parts of Central Africa but nowhereto the degree that it prevails on the Congo River and among theBangalas, where it is a tribal mark. I observed women whose entirebodies from the ankles up to the head were one mass of cicatrizeddesigns. One of the favorite areas is the stomach. This is just anotherargument against clothes. Cicatrization bears the same relation to theAfrican native that tattooing does to the whites of some sections. Humanvanity works in mysterious ways to express itself. 

In this connection it is perhaps worth while to point out one of thereasons why the Congo atrocity exhorters found such ready exhibits fortheir arguments. The Central African native delights in disfigurementnot only as a sign of "beauty, " but as a means of retaliation for realor fancied wrongs among his own. In the old days dozens of slaves, andsometimes wives, were sacrificed upon the death of an important chief. Their spirits were supposed to provide a bodyguard to escort thedeparted potentate safely into the land of the hereafter. One of theformer prerogatives of a husband was the sanction to chop off the handor foot of a wife if she offended or disobeyed him. Hence Central Africaabounded in mutilated men, women and children. While some of thesebarbarities may have been due to excessive zeal or temper in State orcorporation officials there is no doubt that many instances were theresult of native practices. 

The reference to cicatrization brings to mind another distinctiveCentral African observance. I refer to the ceremony of bloodbrotherhood. When two men, who have been enemies, desire to make thepeace and swear eternal amity, they make a small incision in one oftheir forearms sufficiently deep to cause the flow of blood. Each thenlicks the blood from the other's arm and henceforth they are related asbrothers. This performance was not only common among the blacks but wasalso practiced by the whites and the blacks the moment civilizationentered the wild domains. Stanley's arms were one mass of scars as theresult of swearing constant blood brotherhood. It became such a nuisanceand at the same time developed into such a serious menace to his health, that the rite had to be amended. Instead of licking the blood thecomrades now merely rub the incisions together on the few occasionsnowadays when fealty is sworn. I am glad to say that I escaped theordeal. 

Much to my regret I saw only a few of the much-described pygmies whodwelt mainly in the regions northeast of Stanleyville, where Stanleyfirst met them. They are all under three feet in height, are light brownin colour, and wear no garments when on their native heath. They are theshyest of all the tribes I encountered. These diminutive creaturesseldom enter the service of the white man and prefer the wild life ofthe jungle. I was informed in the Congo that the real pygmy is fastdisappearing from the map. Intermarriage with other tribes, andsettlement into more or less permanent villages, have increased theheight of the present generation and helped to remove one of the lasthuman links with Stanley's great day. 

The Congo River native is perhaps the shrewdest in all Central Africa. He is a born trader, and he can convert the conventional shoe-stringinto something worth while. One reason why the Bangalas take positionsas firemen and woodboys on the river boats is that it enables them to gointo business. The price of food at the small settlements up river ismuch less than at Kinshassa, where navigation from Stanleyvillesouthward ends. Hence the blacks acquire considerable stores of palm oiland dried fish at the various stops made by the steamers and dispose ofit with large profit when they reach the end of the journey. I have inmind the experience of a capita on the "Comte de Flandre. " When we leftStanleyville his cash capital was thirty-five francs. With this hepurchased a sufficient quantity of food, which included dozens of piecesof _chikwanga_, to realize two hundred and twenty francs at Kinshassa. 

These river natives are genuine profiteers. They invariably make it arule to charge the white man three or four times the price they exactfrom their own kind. No white man ever thinks of buying anythinghimself. He always sends one of his servants. As soon as the vendorknows that the servant is in the white employ he shoves up the price. Idiscovered this state of affairs as soon as I started down the Lualaba. In my innocence I paid two francs for a bunch of bananas. The moment Ihad closed the deal I observed larger and better bunches being purchasedby natives for fifty centimes. 

This business of profiteering by the natives is no new phase of life inthe Congo. Stanley discovered it to his cost. Sir Harry Johnston, thedistinguished explorer and administrator, who added to his achievementsduring these past years by displaying skill and brilliancy as anovelist, tells a characteristic story that throws light on thesubject. It deals with one of the experiences of George Grenfell, theeminent British missionary who gave thirty years of his unselfish lifeto work in the Congo. On one of his trips he noticed the corpse of awoman hanging from the branches of a tree over the water of the greatriver. At first he thought that she had been executed as a punishmentfor adultery, one of the most serious crimes in the native calendar. Oninvestigation he found that she had been guilty of a much more seriousoffense. A law had been imposed that all goods, especially food, must besold to the white man at a far higher price than the local market value. This unhappy woman had only doubled the quotation for eggs, had beenconvicted of breaking the code, and had suffered death in consequence. 

Since I have referred to adultery, let me point out a situation thatdoes not reflect particular credit on so-called civilization. Before thewhite man came to Africa chastity was held in deepest reverence. Theusual punishment for infidelity was death. Some of the early white menwere more or less promiscuous and set a bad moral example with regard tothe women. The native believed that in this respect "the white man cando no wrong" and the inevitable laxity resulted. When a woman desertsher husband now all she gets is a sound beating. If a man elopes withthe wife of a friend, he is haled before a magistrate and fined. 

[Illustration: THE HEART OF THE EQUATORIAL FOREST]

III

On the Congo I got my first glimpse of the native fashion in mourning. It is a survival of the biblical "sackcloth and ashes. " As soon as adeath occurs all the members of the family smear their faces and bodieswith ashes or dirt. Even the babies show these rude symbols of woe. Itgives the person thus adorned a weird and ghastly appearance. When ashesand dust are not available for this purpose, a substitute is found infilthy mud. The mourner is not permitted to wash throughout the entireperiod of grief, which ranges from thirty to ninety days. 

Like the Southern Negro in America these African natives are not onlyborn actors but have a keen sense of humour. They are quick to imitatethe white man. If a Georgia darkey, for example, wants to abuse a memberof his own race he delights to call him "a fool nigger. " It is the lastword in reproach. In the Congo when a native desires to express contemptfor his fellow, he refers to him as a _basingi_, which means bush-man. It is a case of the pot calling the kettle black. 

Up the Kasai I heard a story that admirably illustrates the nativehumour. A Belgian official much inclined to corpulency came out to takecharge of a post. After the usual fashion, he received a native name themoment he arrived. It is not surprising that he became known as _MafuttaMingi_. As soon as he learned what it meant he became indignant. Likemost fat men he could not persuade himself that he was fat. He demandedthat he be given another title, whereupon the local chief solemnlydubbed him _Kiboko_. The official was immediately appeased. He noticedthat a broad smile invariably illumined the countenance of the personwho addressed him in this way. On investigation he discovered that theword meant hippopotamus. 

The Congo native delights in argument. Here you get another parallelwith his American brother. A Bangala, for example, will talk for a weekabout five centimes. One day at Dima I heard a terrific shouting andexhorting down at the native market which is held twice a week. I wascertain that someone was being murdered. When I arrived on the scene Isaw a hundred men and women gesticulating wildly and in a great state ofexcitement. I learned that the wife of a wood-boy on a boat had eithersecreted or sold a scrap of soap, and her husband was not only beratingher with his tongue but telling the whole community about it. 

The chief function of most Belgian officials in the Congo is to presideat what is technically known as a "palaver. " This word means conferencebut it actually develops into a free-for-all riotous protestation by thenatives involved. They all want to talk at the same time and it is likean Irish debating society. Years ago each village had a "palaverground, " where the chief sat in solemn judgment on the disputes of hishenchmen. Now the "palavers" are held before Government officers. Mostof the "palavers" that I heard related to elopements. No matter howgrievous was the offense of the male he invariably shifted the entireresponsibility to the woman. He was merely emulating the ways ofcivilization. 

Between Stanleyville and Kinshassa we not only stopped every nightaccording to custom, but halted at not less than a dozen settlements totake on or deliver cargo. These stations resemble each other in thatthey are mainly a cluster of stores owned or operated by agents ofvarious trading companies. Practically every post in the Congo has, inaddition, a shop owned by a Portuguese. You find these traderseverywhere. They have something of the spirit of adventure and thehardihood of their doughty ancestors who planted the flag of Portugal onthe high seas back in that era when the little kingdom was a worldpower. 

Some of them have been in the Congo for fifteen and twenty years withoutever stirring outside its confines. On the steamer that took me toEurope from the Congo was a Portuguese who had lived in the bush fortwenty-two years. When he got on the big steamer he was frightened atthe noise and practically remained in his cabin throughout the entirevoyage. As we neared France he told me that if he had realizedbeforehand the terror and tumult of the civilization that he hadforgotten, he never would have departed from his jungle home. He was asshy as a wild animal. 

One settlement, Basoko, has a tragic meaning for the Anglo-Saxon. Heredied and lies buried, the gallant Grenfell. I doubt if explorationanywhere revealed a nobler character than this Baptist minister whosecareer has been so adequately presented by Sir Harry Johnston, and whoranks with Stanley and Livingstone as one of the foremost of Africanexplorers. In the Congo evangelization has been fraught with a trulynoble fortitude. When you see the handicaps that have beset bothCatholic and Protestant missionaries you are filled with a newappreciation of their calling. 

The most important stop of this trip was at Coquilhatville, named inhonor of Captain Coquilhat, one of the most courageous of the earlyBelgian soldier-explorers. It was the original Equatorville (it is atthe point where the Equator cuts the Congo), founded by Stanley when heestablished the series of stations under the auspices of theInternational African Association. Here dwells the Vice-Governor of theEquatorial Province. Near by is a botanical garden maintained by theColonial Government and which contains specimens of all the flora ofCentral Africa. 

At Coquilhatville I saw the first horse since I left Rhodesia and it wasa distinct event. Except in the Kasai region it is impossible tomaintain live stock in the Congo. The tsetse fly is the devastatingagency. Apparently the only beasts able to withstand this scourge aregoats and dogs. The few white men who live in Coquilhatville have beenable to maintain five horses which are used by the so-called RidingClub. These animals provide the only exercise at the post. They areowned and ridden by the handful of Englishmen there. A man must drivehimself to indulge in any form of outdoor sport along the equator. Theclimate is more or less enervating and it takes real Anglo-Saxon energyto resist the lure of the _siesta_ or to remain in bed as long aspossible. 

Bolobo is a reminder of Stanley. He had more trouble here than at any ofthe many stations he set up in the Congo Free State in the earlyeighties. The natives were hostile, the men he left in charge proved tobe inefficient, and on two occasions the settlement was burned to theground. Today it is the seat of one of the largest and most prosperousof all the English Baptist Congo missions and is presided over by aCongo veteran, Dr. Stonelake. One feature of the work here is a manualtraining school for natives, who manufacture the same kind of wickerchairs that the tourist buys at Madeira. 

The farther I travelled in the Congo the more deeply I became interestedin the native habits and customs. Although cluttered with ignorance andsuperstition the barbaric mind is strangely productive of a rudephilosophy which is expressed in a quaint folklore. Seasoned Congotravellers like Grenfell, Stanley, Ward, and Johnston have all recordedfascinating local legends. I heard many of these tales myself and Ishall endeavour to relate the best. 

Some of the most characteristic stories deal with the origin of death. Here is a Bangala tradition gathered by Grenfell and which runs asfollows:

 The natives say that in the beginning men and women did not die. That one day, _Nza Komba_ (God) came bringing two gifts, a large and a small one. If they chose the smaller one they would continue to live, but if the larger one, they would for a time enjoy much greater wealth, but they would afterwards die. The men said they must consider the matter, and went away to drink water, as the Kongos say. While they were discussing the matter the women took the larger gift, and _Nza Komba_ went back with the little one. He has never been seen since, though they cried and cried for Him to come back and take the big bundle and give them the little one, and with it immortality. 

The Baluba version of the great mystery is set forth in this way:

 God (_Kabezya-unpungu_) created the sun, moon, and stars, then the world, and later the plants and animals. When all this was finished He placed a man and two women in the world and taught them the name and use of all things. He gave an axe and a knife to the man, and taught him to cut wood, weave stuffs, melt iron, and to hunt and fish. To the women he gave a pickaxe and a knife. He taught both of them to till the ground, make pottery, weave baskets, make oil, --that is to say, all that custom assigns to them to-day. 

 These first inhabitants of the earth lived happily for a long time until one of the women began to grow old. God, foreseeing this, had given her the gift of rejuvenating herself, and the faculty, if she once succeeded, of preserving the gift for herself and for all mankind. Unfortunately, she speedily lost the precious treasure and introduced death into the world. 

 This is how the misfortune occurred: Seeing herself all withered, the woman took the fan with which her companion had been winnowing maize for the manufacture of beer and shut herself into her hut, carefully closing the door. There she began to tear off her old skin, throwing it on the fan. The skin came off easily, a new one appearing in its place. The operation was nearing completion. There remained the head and neck only when her companion came to the hut to fetch her fan and before the old woman could speak, pushed open the door. The almost rejuvenated woman fell dead instantly. 

 This is the reason we all die. The two survivors gave birth to a number of sons and daughters, from whom all races have descended. Since that time God does not trouble about His creatures. He is satisfied with visiting them incognito now and again. Wherever He passes the ground sinks. He injures no one. It is therefore superfluous to honour him, so the Balubas offer no worship to Him. 

The animal story has a high place in the legends of these peoples. Theyrepresent a combination of Kipling's Jungle Book, Aesop's Fables, andBr'er Rabbit. Nor do they fail to point a moral. Naturally, the elephantis a conspicuous feature in most of them. The tale of "The Elephant andthe Shrew" will illustrate. Here it is:

[Illustration: NATIVES PILING WOOD]

[Illustration: A WOOD POST ON THE CONGO]

 One day the elephant met the shrew mouse on his road. "Out of the way, " cried the latter. "I am the bigger, and it is your place to look out, " replied the monster. "Curse you!" retorted the shrew mouse furiously. "May the long grass cut your legs!" "And may you meet your death when you walk in the road!" replied the other crushing him under his huge foot. Both curses have been fulfilled. From that day the elephant wounds himself when he goes through the long grass, and the shrew-mouse meets her death when she crosses the road. 

The story of the elephant and the chameleon is equally interesting. Oneday the chameleon challenged the elephant to a race. The latter acceptedthe challenge and a meeting was arranged for the following morning. During the night the chameleon placed all his brothers from point topoint along the length of the track where the race was to be run. Whenday came the elephant started. The chameleon quickly slipped behindwithout the elephant noticing. "Are you not tired?" asked the monster ofthe first chameleon he met. "Not at all, " he replied, executing the samemanœuvre as the former. This stratagem was renewed so many times thatthe elephant, tired out, gave up the contest and confessed himselfbeaten. 

In the wilds, as in civilization, the relation between husband and wife, and more especially the downfall of the autocrat of the home, is afavorite subject for jest. From the northeastern corner of the Congocomes this illuminating story:

 A man had two wives, one gentle and prepossessing, the other such a gossip that he was often made angry. Neither remonstrances nor beating improved her, and finally he made up his mind to drive her into a wood amongst the hyenas. There she built herself a little hut into which a hyena came and boldly installed herself as mistress. The wife tried to protest but the hyena, not content with eating and drinking all that the wife was preparing, compelled her furthermore to look after her young. One day the hyena had ordered the woman to boil some water. While waiting the wife had the sudden idea of seizing the young hyenas and throwing them into the boiling water. She did this and then she ran trembling to take refuge in the home of her husband whom she found calmly seated at the entrance of the house, spear in hand. She threw herself at the feet of her spouse, beseeching him for help and protection. When the hyena arrived foaming with rage her husband stretched it dead on the ground with a blow of his spear. The lesson was not lost on the wife. From that day forth she became the joy and delight of her husband. 

The Congo can ever reproduce its own version of the fable of "The Goosethat Laid the Golden Egg. " It is somewhat primitive but serves the samepurpose. As told to the naked piccaninnies by the flickering camp-firesit runs thus:

 Four fools owned a chicken which laid blue glass beads instead of eggs. A quarrel arose concerning the ownership of the fowl. The bird was subsequently killed and divided into four equal portions. The spring of their good fortune dried up. 

To understand the significance of the story it must be understood thatfor many years beads have been one of the forms of currency in CentralAfrica. Formerly they were as important a detail in the purchase of awife as copper and calico. The first piece of attire, if it may bedesignated by this name, that adorns the native baby after its entranceinto the world is an anklet of blue beads. Later a strand of beads isplaced round its loins. 

When you have heard such stories as I have just related, you realizethat despite his ignorance, appetite, and indolence, the Congo nativehas some desirable qualities. He is shiftless but not without humaninstincts. Nowhere are they better expressed than in his folklore. 

IV

Two stops on the Congo River deserve special attention. In the Congothere began in 1911 an industry that will have an important bearing onthe economic development of the Colony. It was the installation of thefirst plant of the Huileries du Congo Belge. This Company, which is anoffshoot of the many Lever enterprises of England, resulted from thegrowing need of palm oil as a substitute for animal fat in soap-making. Lord Leverhulme, who was then Sir William Lever, obtained a concessionfor considerably more than a million acres of palm forests in the Congo. He began to open up so-called areas and install mills for boiling thefruit and drying the kernels. He now has eight areas, and two of them, Elizabetha and Alberta, --I visited both--are on the Congo River. 

For hundreds of years the natives have gathered the palm fruit andextracted the oil. Under their method of manufacture the waste wasenormous. The blacks threw away the kernel because they were unaware ofthe valuable substance inside. Lord Leverhulme was the first to organizethe industry on a big and scientific basis and it has justified hisconfidence and expenditure. 

Most people are familiar with the date and the cocoa-nut palms. From thedays of the Bible they have figured in narrative and picture. The oilpalm, on the other hand, is less known but much more valuable. It is thestaff of life in the Congo and for that matter, practically all WestAfrica. Thousands of years ago its sap was used by the Egyptians forembalming the bodies of their kingly dead. Today it not only representsthe most important agricultural industry of the Colony, having longsince surpassed rubber as the premier product, but it has an almostbewildering variety of uses. It is food, drink and shelter. Out of thetrunk the native extracts his wine; from the fruit, and this includesthe kernel, are obtained oil for soap, salad dressing and margarine; theleaves provide a roof for the native houses; the fibre is made intomats, baskets or strings for fishing nets, while the wood goes intoconstruction. Even the bugs that live on it are food for men. 

The "H. C. B. " as the Huileries du Congo Belge is more commonly known inthe Congo, really performed a courageous act in exploitation when it setup shop in the remote regions and devoted itself to an absolutely freshenterprise, so far as extensive development is concerned, at a time whenthe rich and profitable products of the country were rubber, ivory andcopal. The company's initiative, therefore, instigated the trade inoleaginous products which is so conspicuous in the economic life of thecountry. 

The installation at Alberta, while not so large as the Leverville areaon the Kwilu River, will serve to show just what the corporation isdoing. Five years ago this region was the jungle. Today it is the modelsettlement on the Congo River. The big brick office building stands on abrow of the hill overlooking the water. Not far away is the large millwhere the palm fruit is reduced to oil and the kernels dried. Stretchingaway from the river is a long avenue of palms, flanked by the commodiousbrick bungalows of the white employes. The "H. C. B. " maintains a storeat each of its areas, where food and supplies are bought by thepersonnel. These stores are all operated by the Société d'EntreprisesCommerciales au Congo Belge, known locally under the name of "Sedec, "formed as its name indicated, with a view of benefiting by the greatresources opened to commerce in the Colony. 

For miles in every direction the Company has laid out extensive palmplantations. In the Alberta region twenty-five hundred acres are incourse of cultivation in what is known as the Eastern Development, whilesixteen hundred more acres are embodied in the Western development. Anoil palm will bear fruit within seven years after the young tree isplanted. The fruit comes in what is called a _régime_, which resembles ahuge bunch of grapes. It is a thick cluster of palm fruit. Each fruit isabout the size of a large date. The outer portion, the pericarp, isalmost entirely yellow oil encased in a thick skin. Imbedded in this oilis the kernel, which contains an even finer oil. The fruit is boileddown and the kernel, after a drying process, is exported in bags toEngland, where it is broken open and the contents used for salad oil ormargarine. 

Before the war thousands of tons of palm oil and kernels were shippedfrom the West Coast of Africa to Germany every year. Now they arediverted to England where large kernel-crushing plants have beeninstalled and the whole activity has become a British enterprise. Withthe eclipse of the German Colonial Empire in Africa it is not likelythat she can regain this lost business. 

The creation of new palmeries is merely one phase of the company'sdevelopment. One of its largest tasks is to safeguard the immensenatural palmeries on its concessions. The oil palm requires constantattention. The undergrowth spreads rapidly and if it is not removedis liable to impair the life of the tree. Thousands of natives areemployed on this work. A large knife something like the Cuban machete isused. 

[Illustration: RESIDENTIAL QUARTERS AT ALBERTA]

[Illustration: THE COMTE DE FLANDRE]

Harvesting the _régimes_ is a spectacular performance not without itselement of danger. The _régime_ grows at the top of the tree, usually aheight of sixty or seventy-five feet and sometimes more. The nativeliterally walks up the trunk with the help of a loop made from somestout vine which encircles him. Arriving at the top he fixes his feetagainst the trunk, leans against the loop which holds him fast, andhacks away at the _régime_. It falls with a heavy thud and woe betidethe human being or the animal it strikes. The natives will not cut fruitin rainy weather because many have slipped on the wet bark and fallen totheir death. 

So wide is the Alberta fruit-producing area that a narrow-gauge railwayis necessary to bring the fruit in to the mill. Along its line arevarious stations where the fruit is mobilized, stripped from the_régime_ and sent down for refining in baskets. Each station has asuperintendent who lives on the spot. The personnel of all the staff inthe Congo is almost equally divided between British and Belgians. 

While the "H. C. B. " is the largest factor in the palm oil industry inthe Congo, many tons of kernels are gathered every year by individualswho include thousands of natives. One reason why the savage takesnaturally to this occupation is that it demands little work. All that heis required to do is to climb a tree in the jungle and lop off a_régime_. He uses the palm oil for his own needs or disposes of it to amember of his tribe and sells the kernels to the white man. 

The "H. C. B. " is independent of all other water transport in theCongo. Its river tonnage aggregates more than 6, 000, and in addition ithas many oil barges on the various rivers where its vessels ply. Thecapacity of some of the barges is 250 tons of oil. They are usuallylashed to the side of the steamer. The decks of these barges are oftenpiled high with bags of kernels and become a favorite sleeping place forthe black voyagers for whom the thousands of insects that lurk in themhave no terrors. No bug inflicts a sharper sting than these pests whomake their _habitat_ among the palm kernels. 

One of my fellow passengers on the "Comte de Flandre" was I. F. Braham, the Associate Managing Director of the "H. C. B. " in the Congo. Long thefriend and companion in Liberia of Sir Harry Johnston, he was a mostdesirable and congenial companion. It was on his suggestion andinvitation that I spent the week at Alberta and he shared the visit. Ourhosts were Major and Mrs. Claude Wallace. 

Major Wallace was the District Manager of the Alberta area and occupieda brick bungalow on the bank of the river. He is a pioneer inexploration in the French Congo and Liberia and went almost straightfrom the battlefields of France, where he served with distinction in theWorld War, out to his post in the Congo. His wife is a fine example ofthe white woman who has braved the dangers of the tropics. She left theluxury and convenience of European life to establish a home in thejungle. 

It is easy to spot the refining influence of the woman in the Africanhabitation. You always see the effect long before you behold the cause. One of these effects is usually a neat garden. Mrs. Wallace had half anacre of English roses in front of her house. They were the only ones Isaw in Central Africa. The average bachelor in this part of the world isnot particularly scrupulous about the appearance of his house. Themoment you observe curtains at the window you know that there is afemale on the premises. 

My life at Alberta was one of the really delightful experiences in theCongo. Every morning I set out with Braham and Wallace on some tour ofinspection. Often we rode part of the way on the little light railroad. The method of transport was unique. An ordinary bench is placed on asmall flat car. The propelling power is furnished by two husky nativeswho stand on either side of the bench and literally shove the vehiclealong with long sticks. It is like paddling a railroad canoe. Thistransportation freak is technically called a _maculla_. The strong-armedpaddlers were able to develop an astonishing speed. I think that this isthe only muscle-power railroad in the world. Light engines are employedfor hauling the palm fruit trains. 

After our day in the field--for frequently we took our lunch with us--wereturned before sunset and bathed and dressed for dinner. In the Congoonly a madman would take a cold plunge. The most healthful immersion isin tepid water. More than one Englishman has paid the penalty with hislife, by continuing his traditional cold bath in the tropics. Thisreminds me of a significant fact in connection with colonization. Everyone must admit that the Briton is the best colonizer in the world. One reason is that he knows how to rule the man of colour for he does itwith fairness and firmness. Another lies in the fact that he not onlykeeps himself clean but he makes his environment sanitary. 

There is a tradition that the Constitution follows the flag. I contendthat with the Englishman the bath-tub precedes the code of law and whatis more important, it is in daily use. There are a good many bath-tubsin the Congo but they are employed principally as receptacles for foodsupplies and soiled linen. 

Those evenings at Alberta were as unforgettable as their setting. Brahamand Wallace were not only men of the world but they had read extensivelyand had travelled much. A wide range of subjects came under discussionat that hospitable table whose spotless linen and soft shaded lightswere more reminiscent of London and New York than suggestive of afar-away post on the Congo River on the edge of the wilderness. 

At Alberta as elsewhere, the "H. C. B. " is a moral force. Each area hasa doctor and a hospital. No detail of its medical work is more vital tothe productive life of the Colony that the inoculation of the nativesagainst sleeping sickness. This dread disease is the scourge of theCongo and every year takes toll of hundreds of thousands of natives. Noris the white man immune. I saw a Belgian official dying of thisloathsome malady in a hospital at Matadi and I shall never forget hisravings. The last stage of the illness is always a period when thevictim becomes demented. The greatest boon that could possibly be heldout for Central Africa today would be the prevention of sleepingsickness. 

Another constructive work carried out under the auspices of the "H. C. B. " is embodied in the native schools. There is an excellent one atAlberta. It is conducted by the Catholic Fathers of the Scheut Mission. The children are trained to become wood-workers, machinists, painters, and carpenters. It is the Booker Washington idea transplanted in thejungle. The Scheut Missionaries and their Jesuit colleagues are doingan admirable service throughout the Congo. Some of them are infused withthe spirit that animated Father Damien. Time, distance, and isolationcount for naught with them. It is no uncommon thing to encounter in thebush a Catholic priest who has been on continuous service there forfifteen or twenty years without a holiday. At Luluaburg lives a MotherSuperior who has been in the field for a quarter of a century withoutwandering more than two hundred miles from her field of operations. 

V

Now for the last stage of the Congo River trip. Like so many of my otherexperiences in Africa it produced a surprise. One morning when we wereabout two hundred miles north of Kinshassa I heard the whir of a motorengine, a rare sound in those parts. I thought of aeroplanes andinstinctively looked up. Flying overhead toward Coquilhatville was a300-horse power hydroplane containing two people. Upon inquiry Idiscovered that it was one of four machines engaged in carryingpassengers, mail, and express between Kinshassa and Coquilhatville. 

The campaign against the Germans in East Africa proved thepracticability of aeroplanes in the tropics. The Congo is the first ofthe Central African countries to dedicate aviation to commercial usesand this precedent is likely to be extensively followed. Fifteenhydroplanes have been ordered for the Congo River service which willeventually be extended to Stanleyville. Only those who have endured theagony of slow transport in the Congo can realize the blessing that airtravel will confer. 

I was naturally curious to find out just what the African native thoughtof the aeroplane. The moment that the roar of the engine broke themorning silence, everybody on the boat rushed to some point of vantageto see the strange sight. The blacks slapped each other on the shoulder, pointed at the machine, and laughed and jabbered. Yet when my secretaryasked a big Baluba if he did not think that the aeroplane was awonderful thing the barbarian simply grunted and replied, "White man cando anything. " He summed up the native attitude toward his conqueror. Ibelieve that if a white man performed the most astounding feat of magicor necromancy the native would not express the slightest surprise. 

[Illustration: A TYPICAL OIL PALM FOREST]

[Illustration: BRINGING IN THE PALM FRUIT]

At Kwamouth, where the Kasai flows into the Congo River, we entered theso-called "Channel. " From this point down to Stanley Pool the river isdeep and the current is swift. This means that for a brief time thetraveller enjoys immunity from the danger of running aground on asandbank. The whole country-side is changed. Instead of the low andluxuriantly-wooded shores the banks become higher with each passinghour. Soon the land adjacent to the river merges into foothills andthese in turn taper off into mountains. The effect is noble andstriking. No wonder Stanley went into ecstasies over this scenery. Hedeclared on more than one occasion that it was as inspiring as any hehad seen in Wales or Scotland. 

In the "Channel" another surprise awaits the traveller. The mornings arebitterly raw. This is probably due to the high ground on either side ofthe river and the strong currents of air that sweep up the stream. I canfrankly say that I really suffered from the cold within strikingdistance of the equator. I did not feel comfortable until I had donned aheavy sweater. 

This sudden change in temperature explains one reason why so many Congonatives die under forty. They are scantily clad, perspire freely, andlie out at night with scarcely any covering. They go to sleep in a humidatmosphere and wake up with the temperature forty degrees lower. Thenatural result is that half of them constantly have colds and themoment pneumonia develops they succumb. Congestion of the lungs vieswith sleeping sickness as the ravager of Middle Africa, and especiallycertain parts of the Congo. 

Kinshassa is situated on Stanley Pool, a lake-like expansion of theCongo more than two hundred square miles in area. It is dotted withislands. Nearly one-third of the northern shore is occupied by the rockyformations that Stanley named Dover Cliffs. They reminded him of thefamous white cliffs of England and with the sunlight on them they dobear a strong resemblance to one of the familiar signposts of Albion. More than one Englishman emerging from the jungle after long serviceremote from civilization has gotten a thrill of home at the name andsight of these hills. 

Stanley Pool has always been associated in my mind with one of the mostpicturesque episodes in Stanley's life. He tells about it in hismonumental work on the Congo Free State and again relates it in hisAutobiography. It deals with Ngalyema, who was chief of the Stanley PoolDistrict in the early eighties. He demanded and received a largequantity of goods for the permission to establish a station here. Afterthe explorer had camped within ten miles of the Pool the old piratepretended that he had not received the goods and sought to extort more. Stanley refused to be bullied, whereupon the chief threatened to attackhim in force. Let Stanley now tell the story, for it is an illustrationof the way he combated the usury and cunning of the Congo native. 

 I had hung a great Chinese gong conspicuously near the principal tent. Ngalyema's curiosity would be roused. All my men were hidden, some in the steamboat on top of the wagon, and in its shadow was a cool place where the warriors would gladly rest after a ten-mile march. Other of my men lay still as death under tarpaulins, under bundles of grass, and in the bush round about the camp. By the time the drum-taps and horns announced Ngalyema's arrival, the camp seemed abandoned except by myself and a few small boys. I was indolently seated in a chair reading a book, and appeared too lazy to notice anyone; but, suddenly looking up and seeing my "brother Ngalyema" and his warriors, scowlingly regarding me, I sprang up and seized his hands, and affectionately bade him welcome, in the name of sacred fraternity, and offered him my own chair. 

 He was strangely cold, and apparently disgruntled, and said:--

 "Has not my brother forgotten his road? What does he mean by coming to this country?"

 "Nay, it is Ngalyema who has forgotten the blood-bond which exists between us. It is Ngalyema who has forgotten the mountains of goods which I paid him. What words are these of my brother?"

 "Be warned, Rock-Breaker. Go back before it is too late. My elders and people all cry out against allowing the white man to come into our country. Therefore, go back before it be too late. Go back, I say, the way you came. "

 Speech and counter-speech followed. Ngalyema had exhausted his arguments; but it was not easy to break faith and be uncivil, with plausible excuse. His eyes were reaching round seeking to discover an excuse to fight, when they rested on the round, burnished face of the Chinese gong. 

 "What is that?" he said. 

 "Ah, that--that is a fetish. "

 "A fetish! A fetish for what?"

 "It is a war-fetish, Ngalyema. The slightest sound of that would fill this empty camp with hundreds of angry warriors; they would drop from above, they would spring up from the ground, from the forest about, from everywhere. "

 "Sho! Tell that story to the old women, and not to a chief like Ngalyema. My boy tells me it is a kind of a bell. Strike it and let me hear it. "

 "Oh, Ngalyema, my brother, the consequences would be too dreadful! Do not think of such a thing!"

 "Strike it, I say. "

 "Well, to oblige my dear brother Ngalyema, I will. "

 And I struck hard and fast, and the clangourous roll rang out like thunder in the stillness. Only for a few seconds, however, for a tempest of human voices was heard bursting into frightful discords, and from above, right upon the heads of the astonished warriors, leaped yelling men; and from the tents, the huts, the forest round about, they came by sixes, dozens, and scores, yelling like madmen, and seemingly animated with uncontrollable rage. The painted warriors became panic-stricken; they flung their guns and powder-kegs away, forgot their chief, and all thoughts of loyalty, and fled on the instant, fear lifting their heels high in the air; or, tugging at their eye-balls, and kneading the senses confusedly, they saw, heard, and suspected nothing, save that the limbo of fetishes had suddenly broken loose!

 But Ngalyema and his son did not fly. They caught the tails of my coat, and we began to dance from side to side, a loving triplet, myself being foremost to ward off the blow savagely aimed at my "brothers, " and cheerfully crying out, "Hold fast to me, my brothers. I will defend you to the last drop of my blood. Come one, come all. "

 Presently the order was given, "Fall in!" and quickly the leaping forms became rigid, and the men stood in two long lines in beautiful order, with eyes front, as though "at attention!" Then Ngalyema relaxed his hold of my coat-tails, and crept from behind, breathing more freely; and, lifting his hand to his mouth, exclaimed, in genuine surprise, "Eh, Mamma! where did all these people come from?"

 "Ah, Ngalyema, did I not tell you that thing was a powerful fetish? Let me strike it again, and show you what else it can do. "

 "No! no! no!" he shrieked. "I have seen enough!"

 The day ended peacefully. I was invited to hasten on to Stanley Pool. The natives engaged themselves by the score to assist me in hauling the wagons. My progress was thenceforth steady and uninterrupted, and in due time the wagons and good-columns arrived at their destination. 

[Illustration: A SPECIMEN OF CICATRIZATION]

[Illustration: A SANKURU WOMAN PLAYING NATIVE DRAUGHTS]

Kinshassa was an accident. Leopoldville, which is situated about tenmiles away and the capital of the Congo-Kasai Province, was expected tobecome the center of white life and enterprise in this vicinity. It wasfounded by Stanley in the early eighties and named in honour of theBelgian king. It commands the river, cataracts, forests and mountains. 

Commerce, however, fixed Kinshassa as its base of operation, and itsexpansion has been astonishing for that part of the world. It is abustling port and you can usually see half a dozen steamers tied up atthe bank. There is a population of several hundred white people and manythousands of natives. The Banque du Congo Belge has its principalestablishment here and there are scores of well-stocked mercantileestablishments. With the exception of Matadi and Thysville it has theone livable hotel in the Congo. Moreover, it rejoices in that nowindispensable feature of civic life which is expressed in a cinematheatre. In the tropics all motion picture houses are open-airinstitutions. 

In cataloguing Kinshassa's attractions I must not omit the feature thathad the strongest and most immediate lure for me. It was a barber shopand I made tracks for it as soon as I arrived. I was not surprised tofind that the proprietor was a Portuguese who had made a small fortunetrimming the Samson locks of the scores of agents who stream into thelittle town every week. He is the only barber in the place and there isno competition this side of Stanleyville, more than a thousand milesaway. 

The seasoned residents of the Congo would never think of callingKinshassa by any other name than "Kin. " In the same way Leopoldville isdubbed "Leo. " Kinshassa is laid out in streets, has electric lights, andwithin the past twelve months about twenty automobiles have beenacquired by its residents. There is a gay social life, and on Julyfirst, the anniversary of the birth of the Congo Free State, and when acelebration is usually held, I saw a spirited football game betweenBritish and Belgian teams. Most of the big international British tradingcompanies that operate in Africa have branches in Kinshassa and it isnot difficult to assemble an English-speaking quorum. 

In the matter of transportation Kinshassa is really the key to the heartof the Congo. It is the rail-head of the narrow-gauge line from Matadiand all merchandise that comes from Europe is transshipped at this pointto the boats that go up the Congo river as far as Stanleyville. Thusevery ton of freight and every traveller bound for the interior mustpass through Kinshassa. When the railway from the Katanga is constructedits prestige will increase. 

Kinshassa owes a part of its development to the Huileries du CongoBelge. Its plant dominates the river front. There are a dozen huge tanksinto which the palm-oil flows from the barges. The fluid is then runinto casks and sent down by rail to Matadi, whence it goes in steamersto Europe. More than a hundred white men are in the service of the "H. C. B. " at Stanley Pool. They live in standardized brick bungalows intheir own area which is equipped with tennis courts and a library. Onall English fête days the Union Jack is hoisted and there is muchfestivity. 

Two months had elapsed since I entered the Congo and I had travelledabout two thousand miles within its borders. This journey, short as itseems as distances go these days, would have taken Stanley nearly twoyears to accomplish in the face of the obstacles that hampered him. Ihad only carried out part of my plan. The Kasai was calling. The timewas now at hand when I would retrace my way up the Congo River and turnmy face towards the Little America that nestles far up in the wilds. 

[Illustration: THE BELGIAN CONGO]

CHAPTER VI--AMERICA IN THE CONGO

I

Go up the Kasai River to Djoko Punda and you believe, despite thebackground of tropical vegetation and the ever-present naked savage, that for the moment you are back in the United States. You see Americanjitneys scooting through the jungle; you watch five-ton Americantractors hauling heavy loads along the sandy roads; you hear Americanslang and banter on all sides, and if you are lucky enough to be invitedto a meal you get American hot cakes with real American maple syrup. Theair tingles with Yankee energy and vitality. 

All this means that you have arrived at the outpost of Little America inthe Belgian Congo--the first actual signboard of the least known andmost picturesque piece of American financial venturing abroad. It hashelped to redeem a vast region from barbarism and opened up an area offar-reaching economic significance. At Djoko Punda you enter the domainof the Forminiere, the corporation founded by a monarch and which has akingdom for a partner. Woven into its story is the romance of a one-timebarefoot Virginia boy who became the commercial associate of a king. 

What is the Forminiere and what does it do? The name is a contraction ofSociété Internationale Forestiere & Miniere du Congo. In the Congo, where companies have long titles, it is the fashion to reduce them tothe dimensions of a cable code-word. Thus the high-sounding CompagnieIndustrielle pour les Transports et Commerce au Stanley Pool ismercifully shaved to "Citas. " This information, let me say, is alife-saver for the alien with a limited knowledge of French and whosepronunciation is worse. 

Clearly to understand the scope and purpose of the Forminiere you mustknow that it is one of the three companies that have helped to shape thedestiny of the Congo. I encountered the first--the Union Miniere--themoment I entered the Katanga. The second is the Huileries du CongoBelge, the palm-oil producers whose bailiwick abuts upon the Congo andKwilu Rivers. Now we come to the third and the most important agency, sofar as American interest is affected, in the Forminiere, whose empire isthe immense section watered by the Kasai River and which extends acrossthe border into Angola. In the Union Miniere you got the initial hint ofAmerica's part in the development of the Congo. That part, however, wasentirely technical. With the Forminiere you have the combination ofAmerican capital and American engineering in an achievement that is, tosay the least, unusual. 

The moment I dipped into Congo business history I touched the Forminierefor the reason that it was the pet project of King Leopold, and the lastand favorite corporate child of his economic statesmanship. Moreover, among the leading Belgian capitalists interested were men who had beenStanley's comrades and who had helped to blaze the path of civilizationthrough the wilds. King Albert spoke of it to me in terms ofappreciation and more especially of the American end. I felt a sense ofpride in the financial courage and physical hardihood of my countrymenwho had gone so far afield. I determined to see the undertaking atfirst hand. 

My experience with it proved to be the most exciting of my whole Africanadventure. All that I had hitherto undergone was like a springtimefrolic compared to the journey up the Kasai and through the jungle thatlurks beyond. I saw the war-like savage on his native heath; I travelledwith my own caravan through the forest primeval; I employed everyconceivable kind of transport from the hammock swung on a pole andcarried on the shoulders of husky natives, to the automobile. Theprimitive and modern met at almost every stage of the trip which provedto be first cousin to a thriller from beginning to end. Heretofore I hadbeen under the spell of the Congo River. Now I was to catch the magic ofits largest tributary, the Kasai. 

Long before the Forminiere broke out its banner, America had beenassociated with the Congo. It is not generally known that Henry M. Stanley, who was born John Rowlands, achieved all the feats which madehim an international figure under the name of his American benefactorwho adopted him in New Orleans after he had run away to sea from a Welshworkhouse. He was for years to all intents and purposes an American, andcarried the American flag on two of his famous expeditions. 

President Cleveland was the first chief dignitary of a nation torecognize the Congo Free State in the eighties, and his name isperpetuated in Mount Cleveland, near the headwaters of the Congo River. An American Minister to Belgium, General H. S. Sanford, had aconspicuous part in all the first International African Associationsformed by King Leopold to study the Congo situation. This contact, however, save Stanley's share, was diplomatic and a passing phase. Itwas the prelude to the constructive and permanent part played by theAmerican capitalists in the Forminiere, chief of whom is Thomas F. Ryan. 

The reading world associates Ryan with the whirlpool of Big Finance. Heruled New York traction and he recast the tobacco world. Yet nothingappealed to his imagination and enthusiasm like the Congo. He saw it invery much the same way that Rhodes viewed Rhodesia. Every great Americanmaster of capital has had his particular pet. There is always somedarling of the financial gods. The late J. P. Morgan, for example, regarded the United States Steel Corporation as his prize performanceand talked about it just like a doting father speaks of a successfulson. The Union Pacific System was the apple of E. H. Harriman's eye, andthe New York Central was a Vanderbilt fetish for decades. So with Ryanand the Congo. Other powerful Americans have become associated with him, as you will see later on, but it was the tall, alert, clear-eyedVirginian, who rose from penniless clerk to be a Wall Street king, whofirst had the vision on this side of the Atlantic, and backed it withhis millions. I am certain that if Ryan had gone into the Congo earlierand had not been engrossed in his American interests, he would probablyhave done for the whole of Central Africa what Rhodes did for SouthAfrica. 

We can now get at the beginnings of the Forminiere. Most largecorporations radiate from a lawyer's office. With the Forminiere it wasotherwise. The center of inspiration was the stone palace at Brusselswhere King Leopold II, King of the Belgians, held forth. The year 1906was not a particularly happy one for him. The atrocity campaign was atits height abroad and the Socialists were pounding him at home. Despite the storm of controversy that raged about him one clear ideashone amid the encircling gloom. That idea was to bulwark the Congo FreeState, of which he was also sovereign, before it was ceded to Belgium. 

[Illustration: THOMAS F. RYAN]

Between 1879 and 1890 Leopold personally supported the cost of creatingand maintaining the Free State. It represented an outlay of more than$2, 500, 000. Afterwards he had adequate return in the revenues fromrubber and ivory. But Leopold was a royal spender in the fullest sense. He had a variety of fads that ranged from youthful and beguilingfemininity to the building of palaces and the beautifying of his owncountry. He lavished millions on making Brussels a sumptuous capital andOstend an elaborate seaside resort. With his private life we are notconcerned. Leopold the pleasure-seeker was one person; Leopold thebusiness man was another, and as such he was unique among the rulers ofEurope. 

Leopold contradicted every known tradition of royalty. The king businessis usually the business of spending unearned money. Your royalspendthrift is a much more familiar figure than the royal miser. Moreover, nobody ever associates productive power with a king save inthe big family line. His task is inherited and with it a bank accountsufficient to meet all needs. This immunity from economic necessity is alarge price to pay for lack of liberty in speech and action. Theprincipal job of most kings, as we all know, is to be a noble andacquiescent figure-head, to pin decorations on worthy persons, and toopen public exhibitions. 

Leopold did all of these things but they were incidental to his largertask. He was an insurgent from childhood. He violated all the rules ofthe royal game not only by having a vision and a mind all his own butin possessing a keen commercial instinct. Geography was his hobby atschool. Like Rhodes, he was forever looking at maps. When he became kinghe saw that the hope of Belgium economically lay in colonization. In1860 he made a journey to the Far East, whence he returned deeplyimpressed with trade opportunities in China. Afterwards he was the primemover in the construction of the Pekin-Hankow Railway. I do not thinkmost persons know that Leopold at one time tried to establish a Belgiancolony in Ethiopia. Another act in his life that has escaped the casualbiographer was his effort to purchase the Philippines from Spain. Nowyou can see why he seized upon the Congo as a colonizing possibility themoment he read Henry M. Stanley's first article about it in the LondonTelegraph. 

There was a vital reason why Belgium should have a big and prosperouscolony. Her extraordinary internal development demanded an outletabroad. The doughty little country so aptly called "The Cockpit ofEurope, " and which bore the brunt of the first German advance in theGreat War, is the most densely populated in the world. It has twohundred and forty-seven inhabitants for each square kilometer. Englandonly counts one hundred and forty-six, Germany one hundred andtwenty-five, France seventy-two, and the United States thirteen. TheBelgians had to have economic elbow room and Leopold was determined thatthey should have it. 

His creation of the Congo Free State was just one evidence of hisshrewdness and diplomacy. Half a dozen of the great powers had their eyeon this untouched garden spot in Central Africa and would have riskedmillions of dollars and thousands of men to grab it. Leopold, through aseries of International Associations, engineered the famous BerlinCongress of 1884 and with Bismarck's help put the Free State on the map, with himself as steward. It was only a year ago in Germany that a formerhigh-placed German statesman admitted to me that one of the fewfundamental mistakes that the Iron Chancellor ever made was to permitLeopold to snatch the Congo from under the very eyes and hands ofGermany. I quote this episode to show that when it came to businessLeopold made every king in Europe look like an office boy. Even somasterful a manipulator of men as Cecil Rhodes failed with him. Rhodessought his aid in his trans-African telegraph scheme but Leopold was tooshrewd for him. After his first audience with the Belgian king Rhodessaid to Robert Williams, "I thought I was clever but I was no match forhim. "

The only other modern king interested in business was the former Kaiser, Mr. Wilhelm Hohenzollern. Although he has no business sense in the waythat Leopold had it, he always had a keen appreciation of big businessas an imperial prop. Like Leopold, he had a congested country andrealized that permanent expansion lay in colonization. The commercialmagnates of Germany used him for their own ends but their teamworkadvanced the whole empire. Wilhelm was a silent partner in the potash, shipping, and electric-machinery trusts. He earned whatever he receivedbecause he was in every sense an exalted press-agent, --a sort ofglorified publicity promoter. His strong point was to go aboutproclaiming the merits of German wares and he always made it a point toscatter samples. On a visit to Italy he left behind a considerablequantity of soap. There was a great rush to get these royal left-overs. Two weeks later a small army of German soap salesmen descended upon thecountry selling this identical product. 

Whatever may be said of Leopold, one thing is certain. He was not small. Wilhelm used the brains of other men; Leopold employed his own, andevery capitalist who went up against him paid tribute to this asset. 

We can now go back to 1906, the year that was to mark the advent ofAmerica into the Congo. Leopold knew that the days of the Congo as aFree State were numbered. His personally-conducted stewardship of theColony was being assailed by the Socialists on one hand and the atrocityproclaimers on the other. Leopold was undoubtedly sincere in his desireto economically safeguard the African possession before it passed out ofhis control. In any event, during the summer of that year he sent amessage to Ryan asking him to confer with him at Brussels. The summonscame out of a clear sky and at first the American financier paid noattention to it. He was then on a holiday in Switzerland. When a secondinvitation came from the king, he accepted, and in September there begana series of meetings between the two men which resulted in theorganization of the Forminiere and with it the dawn of a realinternational epoch in American enterprise. 

In the light of our immense riches the timidity of American capital inactual constructive enterprise overseas is astonishing. Scrutinize theworld business map and you see how shy it has been. We own rubberplantations in Sumatra, copper mines in Chile, gold interests inEcuador, and have dabbled in Russian and Siberian mining. Theseundertakings are slight, however, compared with the scope of the worldfield and our own wealth. Mexico, where we have extensive smelting, oil, rubber, mining and agricultural investments, is so close at hand that itscarcely seems like a foreign country. Strangely enough our capitalthere has suffered more than in any other part of the globe. Thespectacle of American pioneering in the Congo therefore takes on apeculiar significance. 

There are two reasons why our capital has not wandered far afield. Oneis that we have a great country with enormous resources and consequentlyalmost unlimited opportunities for the employment of cash at home. Theother lies in the fact that American capital abroad is not afforded thesame protection granted the money of other countries. Take Britishcapital. It is probably the most courageous of all. The sun never setson it. England is a small country and her money, to spread its wings, must go elsewhere. Moreover, Britain zealously safeguards her Nationalsand their investments, and we, I regret to say, have not always donelikewise. The moment an Englishman or the English flag is insulted awarship speeds to the spot and John Bull wants to know the reason why. 

Why did Leopold seek American capital and why did he pick out Thomas F. Ryan? There are several motives and I will deal with them in order. Inthe first place American capital is about the only non-political moneyin the world. The English pound, for example, always flies the UnionJack and is a highly sensitive commodity. When England puts money intoan enterprise she immediately makes the Foreign Office an accessory. German overseas enterprise is even more meddlesome. It has always beenthe first aid to poisonous and pernicious penetration. Even Frenchcapital is flavoured with imperialism despite the fact that it is theproduct of a democracy. Our dollars are not hitched to the star ofempire. We have no dreams of world conquest. It is the safestpolitically to deal with, and Leopold recognized this fact. 

In the second place he did not want anything to interfere with his Congorubber industry. Now we get to the real reason, perhaps, why he sent forRyan. In conjunction with the late Senator Nelson W. Aldrich, Ryan haddeveloped the rubber industry in Mexico, by extracting rubber from theguayele shrub which grows wild in the desert. Leopold knew this--he hada way of finding out about things--and he sought to kill two birds withone stone. He wanted this Mexican process and at the same time he neededcapital for the Congo. In any event, Ryan went to see him and theForminiere was born. 

There is no need of rehearsing here the concrete details of thisenterprise. All we want are the essential facts. Leopold realized thatthe Forminiere was the last business venture of his life and heprojected it on a truly kingly scale. It was the final chance for hugegrants and the result was that the Forminiere received the mining andmineral rights to more than 7, 000, 000 acres, and other concessions foragriculture aggregating 2, 500, 000 acres in addition. 

The original capital was only 3, 000, 000 francs but this has beenincreased from time to time until it is now more than 10, 000, 000 francs. The striking feature of the organization was the provision inserted byLeopold that made Belgium a partner. One-half of the shares wereassigned to the Crown. The other half was divided into two parts. One ofthese parts was subscribed by the King and the Société Generale ofBelgium, and the other was taken in its entirety by Ryan. SubsequentlyRyan took in as associates Daniel Guggenheim, Senator Aldrich, HarryPayne Whitney and John Hays Hammond. When Leopold died his share went tohis heirs. Upon the death of Aldrich his interest was acquired by Ryan, who is the principal American owner. No shares have ever been sold andnone will be. The original trust certificate issued to Ryan andGuggenheim remains intact. The company therefore remains a closecorporation in every respect and as such is unique among kindredenterprises. 

II

At this point the question naturally arises--what is the SociétéGenerale? To ask it in Belgium would be on a par with inquiring the nameof the king. Its bank notes are in circulation everywhere and it isknown to the humblest peasant. 

The Société Generale was organized in 1822 and is therefore one of theoldest, if not the oldest, joint stock bank of the Continent. Thegeneral plan of the famous Deutsche Bank of Berlin, which planted theGerman commercial flag everywhere, and which provided a large part ofthe bone and sinew of the Teutonic world-wide exploitation campaign, wasbased upon it. With finance as with merchandising, the German is a prizeimitator. 

The Société Generale, however, is much more than a bank. It is thedynamo that drives Belgian enterprise throughout the globe. We inAmerica pride ourselves on the fact that huge combinations of capitalgeared up to industry are a specialty entirely our own. We are muchmistaken. Little Belgium has in the Société an agency for developmentunique among financial institutions. Its imposing marble palace on theRue Royale is the nerve center of a corporate life that has nogeographical lines. With a capital of 62, 000, 000 francs it has piled upreserves of more than 400, 000, 000 francs. In addition to branches called"filial banks" throughout Belgium, it also controls the powerful "Banquepour l'Etranger, " which is established in London, Paris, New York, Cairo, and the Far East. 

One distinctive feature of the Société Generale is its close alliancewith the Government. It is a sort of semi-official National Treasury andperforms for Belgium many of the functions that the Bank of Englandtransacts for the United Kingdom. But it has infinitely more vigour andpush than the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street in London. Its leadingofficials are required to appear on all imposing public occasions suchas coronations and the opening of Parliament. The Belgian Governmentapplies to the Société Generale whenever any national financialenterprise is to be inaugurated and counts upon it to take the initialsteps. Thus it became the backbone of Leopold's ramified projects and itwas natural that he should invoke its assistance in the organization ofthe Forminiere. 

[Illustration: JEAN JADOT]

Long before the Forminiere came into being, the Société Generale was thechief financial factor in the Congo. With the exception of the Huileriesdu Congo Belge, which is British, it either dominates or has largeholdings in every one of the sixteen major corporations doing businessin the Colony and whose combined total capitalization is more than200, 000, 000 francs. This means that it controls railways and rivertransport, and the cotton, gold, rubber, ivory and diamond output. 

The custodians of this far-flung financial power are the money kings ofBelgium. Chief among them is Jean Jadot, Governor of the SociétéGenerale--the institution still designates its head by this ancienttitle--and President of the Forminiere. In him and his colleagues youfind those elements of self-made success so dear to the heart of thehuman interest historian. It would be difficult to find anywhere a morepicturesque group of men than those who, through their association withKing Leopold and the Société, have developed the Congo and so many otherenterprises. 

Jadot occupies today the same position in Belgium that the late J. P. Morgan held in his prime in America. He is the foremost capitalist. Across the broad, flat-topped desk of his office in that marble palacein the Rue Royale the tides of Belgian finance ebb and flow. Just asMorgan's name made an underwriting in New York so does Jadot's put thestamp of authority on it in Brussels. Morgan inherited a great name anda fortune. Jadot made his name and his millions. 

When you analyze the lives of American multi-millionaires you find acurious repetition of history. Men like John D. Rockefeller, Henry H. Rogers, Thomas F. Ryan, and Russell Sage began as grocery clerks insmall towns. Something in the atmosphere created by spice and sugar musthave developed the money-making germ. With the plutocrats of Belgium itwas different. Practically all of them, and especially those who ruledthe financial institutions, began as explorers or engineers. This showsthe intimate connection that exists between Belgium and her overseasinterests. 

Jadot is a good illustration. At twenty he graduated as engineer fromLouvain University. At thirty-five he had directed the construction ofthe tramways of Cairo and of the Lower Egyptian Railways. He was nowcaught up in Leopold's great dream of Belgian expansion. The moment thatthe king obtained the concession for constructing the 1, 200 mile railwayfrom Pekin to Hankow he sent Jadot to China to take charge. Within eightyears he completed this task in the face of almost insuperabledifficulties, including a Boxer uprising, which cost the lives of someof his colleagues and tested his every resource. 

In 1905 he entered the Société Generale. At once he became fired withLeopold's enthusiasm for the Congo and the necessity for making it anoutlet for Belgium. Jadot was instrumental in organizing the UnionMiniere and was also the compelling force behind the building of theKatanga Railway. In 1912 he became Vice Governor of the Société and thefollowing year assumed the Governorship. In addition to being Presidentof the Forminiere he is also head of the Union Miniere and of the newrailroad which is to connect the Katanga with the Lower Congo. 

When you meet Jadot you are face to face with a human organizationtingling with nervous vitality. He reminds me more of E. H. Harrimanthan of any other American empire builder that I have met, and likeHarriman he seems to be incessantly bound up to the telephone. He iskeen, quick, and forceful and talks as rapidly as he thinks. Almostslight of body, he at first gives the impression of being a student forhis eyes are deep and thoughtful. There is nothing meditative in hismanner, however, for he is a live wire in the fullest American sense. Every time I talked with him I went away with a new wonder at his stockof world information. Men of the Jadot type never climb to the heightsthey attain without a reason. In his case it is first and foremost anaccurate knowledge of every undertaking. He never goes into a projectwithout first knowing all about it--a helpful rule, by the way, that theaverage person may well observe in the employment of his money. 

If Jadot is a live wire, then his confrere, Emile Francqui, is a wholebattery. Here you touch the most romantic and many-sided career in allBelgian financial history. It reads like a melodrama and is packed withaction and adventure. I could almost write a book about any one of itsmany stirring phases. 

At fourteen Francqui was a penniless orphan. He worked his way through aregimental school and at twenty was commissioned a sub-lieutenant. Itwas 1885 and the Congo Free State had just been launched. Having studiedengineering he was sent out at once to Boma to join the TopographicBrigade. During this first stay in the Congo he was in charge of aboat-load of workmen engaged in wharf construction. The captain of aBritish gunboat hailed him and demanded that he stop. Francqui replied, "If you try to stop me I will lash my boat to yours and destroy it withdynamite. " He had no further trouble. 

After three years service in the Congo he returned to Brussels andbecame the military instructor of Prince Albert, now King of theBelgians. The African fever was in his veins. He heard that a missionwas about to depart for Zanzibar and East Africa. A knowledge of Englishwas a necessary part of the equipment of the chief officer. Francquiwanted this job but he did not know a syllable of English. He went to afriend and confided his ambition. 

"Are you willing to take a chance with one word?" asked his colleague. 

"I am, " answered the young officer. 

He thereupon acquired the word "yes, " his friend's injunction being, "Ifyou say 'yes' to every question you can probably carry it off. "

Francqui thereupon went to the Foreign Office and was immediately askedin English:

"Can you speak English?"

"Yes, " was his immediate retort. 

"Are you willing to undertake the hazards of this journey to Zanzibar?"queried the interrogator. 

"Yes, " came the reply. 

Luck was with Francqui for, as his good angel had prophesied, his oneword of English met every requirement and he got the assignment. Sincethat time, I might add, he has acquired a fluent command of the Englishlanguage. Francqui has always been willing to take a chance and lead aforlorn hope. 

It was in the early nineties that his exploits made his name one of thegreatest in African conquest and exploration. He went out to the Congoas second in command of what was known as the Bia Expedition, sent toexplore the Katanga and adjacent territory. After two hard years ofincessant campaigning the expedition fell into hard lines. Captain Biasuccumbed to smallpox and the column encountered every conceivablehardship. Men died by the score and there was no food. Francqui tookcharge, and by his indomitable will held the force together, starvingand suffering with his men. During this experience he travelled morethan 5, 000 miles on foot and through a region where no other white manhad ever gone before. He explored the Luapula, the headwaters of theCongo, and opened up a new world to civilization. No other single Congoexpedition save that of Stanley made such an important contribution tothe history of the Colony. 

Most men would have been satisfied to rest with this achievement. WithFrancqui it simply marked a milepost in his life. In 1896, when heresigned from the army, Leopold had fixed his eyes on China as a sceneof operations, and he sent Francqui there to clinch the Pekin-Hankowconcession, which he did. In the course of these negotiations he metJadot, who was later to become his associate both in the SociétéGenerale and in the Forminiere. 

In 1901 Francqui again went to China, this time as agent of theCompagnie d'Orient, which coveted the coal mines of Kaiping that weresupposed to be among the richest in the world. The British and Germansalso desired this valuable property which had been operated for someyears by a Chinese company. As usual, Francqui got what he went afterand took possession of the property. The crude Chinese method of mininghad greatly impaired the workings and they had to be entirelyreconstructed. Among the engineers employed was an alert, smooth-faced, keen-minded young American named Herbert Hoover. 

Upon his return to Brussels Francqui allied himself with Colonel Thys, who was head of the Banque d'Outremer, the rival of the SociétéGenerale. After he had mastered the intricacies of banking he became adirector of the Société and with Jadot forged to the front in finance. If Jadot stood as the Morgan, then Francqui became the Stillman of theBelgian money world. 

Then came the Great War and the German avalanche which overwhelmedBelgium. Her banks were converted into hospitals; her industry layprostrate; her people faced starvation. Some vital agency was necessaryto centralize relief at home in the same way that the Commission forRelief in Belgium, --the famous "C. R. B. "--crystallized it abroad. 

The Comite Rationale was formed by Belgians to feed and clothe thenative population and it became the disbursing agent for the "C. R. B. "Francqui was chosen head of this body and directed it until thearmistice. It took toll of all his energy, diplomacy and instinct fororganization. Needless to say it was one of the most difficult of allrelief missions in the war. Francqui was a loyal Belgian and he wassurrounded by the suspicious and domineering German conquerors. Yetthey trusted him, and his word in Belgium for more than four years wasabsolute law. He was, in truth, a benevolent dictator. 

[Illustration: EMILE FRANCQUI]

His war life illustrates one of the quaint pranks that fate often plays. As soon as the "C. R. B. " was organized in London Francqui hastened overto England to confer with the American organizers. To his surprise anddelight he encountered in its master spirit and chairman, thesmooth-faced young engineer whom he had met out in the Kaiping coalmines before. It was the first time that he and Hoover had seen eachother since their encounter in China. They now worked shoulder toshoulder in the monster mercy of all history. 

Francqui is blunt, silent, aggressive. When Belgium wants something doneshe instinctively turns to him. In 1920, after the delay in fixing theGerman reparation embarrassed the country, and liquid cash wasimperative, he left Brussels on three days' notice and within afortnight from the time he reached New York had negotiated afifty-million-dollar loan. He is as potent in official life as infinance for as Special Minister of State without portfolio he is a realpower behind a real throne. 

Although Francqui is a director in the Société Generale, he is also whatwe would call Chairman of the Board of Banque d'Outremer. This showsthat the well-known institution of "community of interests" is notconfined to the United States. With Jadot he represents the Société inthe Forminiere Board. I have used these two men to illustrate the typerepresented by the Belgian financial kings. I could mention variousothers. They include Alexander Delcommune, famous as Congo fighter andexplorer, who is one of the leading figures of the Banque d'Outremer;Edmond Solvay, the industrial magnate, and Edward Bunge, the Antwerpmerchant prince. Almost without exception they and their colleagues haveeither lived in the Congo, or have been guided in their fortunes by it. 

You have now had the historical approach with all personal side-lightsto the hour when America actually invaded the Congo. As soon as Leopoldand Ryan finally got together the king said, "The Congo must haveAmerican engineers. They are the best in the world. " Thus it came aboutthat Central Africa, like South Africa, came under the galvanizing handof the Yankee technical expert. At Kimberley and Johannesburg, however, the task was comparatively easy. The mines were accessible and thecountry was known. With Central Africa it was a different and moredangerous matter. The land was wild, hostile natives abounded on allsides, and going in was like firing a shot in the dark. 

The American invasion was in two sections. One was the group ofengineers headed by Sydney H. Ball and R. D. L. Mohun, known as theBall-Mohun Expedition, which conducted the geological investigation. Theother was in charge of S. P. Verner, an American who had doneconsiderable pioneering in the Congo, and devoted itself entirely torubber. The latter venture was under the auspices of the American CongoCompany, which expected to employ the Mexican process in the Congo. After several years the attempt was abandoned although the company stillexists. 

I will briefly narrate its experience to show that the product whichraised the tempest around King Leopold's head and which for years wassynonymous with the name of the Congo, has practically ceased to be animportant commercial commodity in the Colony. The reason is obvious. InLeopold's day nine-tenths of the world's supply of rubber was wild andcame from Brazil and the Congo. It cost about fifty cents a pound togather and sold for a dollar. Today more than ninety per cent of therubber supply is grown on plantations in the Dutch East Indies, theMalay States, and the Straits Settlements, where it costs about twentycents a pound to gather and despite the big slump in price since thewar, is profitable. In the Congo there is still wild rubber and amovement is under way to develop large plantations. Labor is scarce, however, while in the East millions of coolies are available. This tellsthe whole rubber story. 

The Ball-Mohun Expedition was more successful than its mate for itopened up a mineral empire and laid the foundations of the LittleAmerica that you shall soon see. Mohun was administrative head and Ballthe technical head and chief engineer. Other members were Millard K. Shaler, afterwards one of Hoover's most efficient aids in the relief ofBelgium, and Arthur F. Smith, geologists; Roland B. Oliver, topographer;A. E. H. And C. A. Reid, and N. Janot, prospectors. 

Mohun, who had been engaged on account of his knowledge of the country, had been American Consul at Zanzibar and at Boma, and first leftdiplomacy to fight the Arab slave-traders in the interior. When someoneasked him why he had quit the United States Government service to go ona military mission he said, "I prefer killing Arabs in the interior tokilling time at Boma. " He figured as one of Richard Harding Davis'"Soldiers of Fortune" and was in every sense a unique personality. 

You get some idea of the hazards that confronted the American pioneerswhen I say that when they set forth for the Kasai region, which is thesouthwestern part of the Congo, late in 1907, they were accompanied by abattalion of native troops under Belgian officers. Often they had tofight their way before they could take specimens. On one occasion Ballwas prospecting in a region hitherto uninvaded by the white man. He wasattacked by a large body of hostile savages and a pitched battlefollowed. In informal Congo history this engagement is known as "TheBattle of Ball's Run, " although Ball did no running. As recently as 1915one of the Forminiere prospectors, E. G. Decker, was killed by thefierce Batshoks, the most belligerent of the Upper Kasai tribes. TheBall-Mohun group, which was the first of many expeditions, remained inthe field more than two years and covered a wide area. 

Up to this time gold and copper were the only valuable minerals that hadbeen discovered in the Congo and the Americans naturally went afterthem. Much to their surprise, they found diamonds and thereby opened upa fresh source of wealth for the Colony. The first diamond was found at_Mai Munene_, which means "Big Water, " a considerable waterfalldiscovered by Livingstone. This region, which is watered by the KasaiRiver, became the center of what is now known as the Congo DiamondFields and remains the stronghold of American engineering and financialenterprise in Central Africa. On a wooded height not far from theheadwaters of the Kasai, these path-finding Americans established a postcalled Tshikapa, the name of a small river nearby. It is the capital ofLittle America in the jungle and therefore became the objective of thesecond stage of my Congo journey. 

[Illustration: A BELLE OF THE CONGO]

[Illustration: WOMEN OF THE BATETELAS]

III

Kinshassa is nearly a thousand miles from Tshikapa. To get there I hadto retrace my way up the Congo as far as Kwamouth, where the Kasaiempties into the parent stream. I also found that it was necessary tochange boats at Dima and continue on the Kasai to Djoko Punda. Herebegins the jungle road to the diamond fields. 

Up to this time I had enjoyed the best facilities that the Congo couldsupply in the way of transport. Now I faced a trip that would not onlytry patience but had every element of the unknown, which in the Congomeans the uncomfortable. Fortunately, the "Lusanga, " one of theHuileries du Congo Belge steamers, was about to start for the KwiluRiver, which branches off from the Kasai, and the company was kindenough to order it to take me to Dima, which was off the prescribeditinerary of the vessel. 

On a brilliant morning at the end of June I set forth. Nelson was stillmy faithful servant and his smile and teeth shone as resplendently asever. The only change in him was that his appetite for _chikwanga_ hadvisibly increased. Somebody had told him at Kinshassa that the Kasaicountry teemed with cannibals. Being one of the world's champion eaters, he shrank from being eaten himself. I promised him an extra allowance offood and a khaki uniform that I had worn in the war, and he agreed totake a chance. 

Right here let me give an evidence of the Congo native's astoundingquickness to grasp things. I do not refer to his light-fingeredpropensities, however. When we got to Kinshassa Nelson knew scarcely aword of the local dialect. When we left a week later, he could jabberintelligently with any savage he met. On the four weeks' trip fromElizabethville he had picked up enough French to make himselfunderstood. The Central African native has an aptitude for languagesthat far surpasses that of the average white man. 

I was the only passenger on the "Lusanga, " which had been reconstructedfor Lord Leverhulme's trip through the Congo in 1914. I occupied thesuite installed for him and it was my last taste of luxury for many aday. The captain, Albert Carrie, was a retired lieutenant in the BritishRoyal Navy, and the chief engineer was a Scotchman. The Congo Riverseemed like an old friend as we steamed up toward Kwamouth. As soon aswe turned into the Kasai I found that conditions were different than onthe main river. There was an abundance of fuel, both for man and boat. The daily goat steak of the Congo was relieved by duck and fish. TheKasai region is thickly populated and I saw a new type of native, lighter in colour than elsewhere, and more keen and intelligent. 

The women of the Kasai are probably the most attractive in the Congo. This applies particularly to the Batetelas, who are of light browncolour. From childhood the females of this tribe have a sense of modestythat is in sharp contrast with the nudity that prevails elsewherethroughout the country. They swathe their bodies from neck to ankle withgaily coloured calico. I am often asked if the scant attire in CentralAfrica shocked me. I invariably reply by saying that the contemporaryfeminine fashion of near-undress in America and Europe made me feelthat some of the chocolate-hued ladies of the jungle were almostover-clothed!

The fourth day of my trip was also the American Fourth of July. CaptainCarrie and I celebrated by toasting the British and American Navies, andit was not in Kasai water. This day also witnessed a somewhat remarkablerevelation of the fact that world economic unrest has penetrated to thevery heart of the primitive regions. While the wood-boys were gettingfuel at a native post, Carrie and I went ashore to take a walk and visita chief who had once been in Belgium. When we got back to the boat wefound that all the natives had suspended work and were listening to animpassioned speech by one of the black wheelmen. All these boats havenative pilots. This boy, who only wore a loin cloth, was urging hisfellows not to work so hard. Among other things he said:

"The white man eats big food and takes a big sleep in the middle of theday and you ought to do the same thing. The company that owns this boathas much money and you should all be getting more wages. "

Carrie stopped the harangue, fined the pilot a week's pay, and the menwent back to work, but the poison had been planted. This illuminatingepisode is just one of the many evidences of industrial insurgency thatI found in Africa from the moment I struck Capetown. In the Rand goldmining district, for example, the natives have been organized by Britishagitators and it probably will not be long before Central Africa has theI. W. W. In its midst! Certainly the "I Won't Works" already exist inlarge numbers. 

This essentially modern spirit was only one of the many surprises thatthe Congo native disclosed. Another was the existence of powerful secretsocieties which have codes, "grips, " and pass-words. Some antedate thewhite man, indulge in human sacrifice, and have branches in a dozensections. Although Central Africa is a land where the husband can strayfrom home at will, the "lodge night" is thus available as an excuse fordomestic indiscretion. 

The most terrible of these orders is the Society of the Leopard, formedto provide a novel and devilish method of disposing of enemies. Themembers wear leopard skins or spotted habits and throttle their foeswith a glove to which steel blades are affixed. The victim appears tohave been killed by the animal that cannot change its spots. To make theillusion complete, the ground where the victim has lain is marked with astick whose end resembles the feet of the leopard. 

The leopard skin has a curious significance in the Congo. For occasionswhere the white man takes an oath on the Bible, the savage steps overone of these skins to swear fealty. If two chiefs have had a quarrel andmake up, they tear a skin in two and throw the pieces into the river, toshow that the feud is rent asunder. It corresponds to the pipe of peaceof the American Indian. 

Another secret society in the Congo is the Lubuki, whose initiationmakes riding the goat seem like a childish amusement. The candidate istied to a tree and a nest of black ants is distributed over his body. Heis released only after he is nearly stung to death. A repetition of thisjungle third degree is threatened for violation of any of the secrets ofthe order, the main purpose of which is to graft on non-members for foodand other necessities. 

In civilized life the members of a fraternal society are summoned to ameeting by telephone or letter. In the Congo they are haled by thetom-tom, which is the wireless of the woods. These huge drums have anuncanny carrying power. The beats are like the dots and dashes oftelegraphy. All the native news of Central Africa is transmitted fromvillage to village in this way. 

I could continue this narrative of native habits and customsindefinitely but we must get back to the "Lusanga. " On board was a realcharacter. He was Peter the capita. In the Congo every group of nativeworkmen is in charge of a capita, who would be designated a foreman inthis country. Life and varied experience had battered Peter sadly. Hespoke English, French, German, Portuguese, and half a dozen of the Congodialects. He learned German while a member of an African dancing teamthat performed at the Winter Garden in Berlin. His German almost had aPotsdam flavour. He told me that he had danced before the former Kaiserand had met many members of the Teutonic nobility. Yet the thing thatstood out most vividly in his memory was the taste of German beer. Hesighed for it daily. 

Six days after leaving Kinshassa I reluctantly bade farewell to Peterand the "Lusanga" at Dima. Here I had the first piece of hard luck onthe whole trip. The little steamer that was to take me up the KasaiRiver to Djoko Punda had departed five days before and I was forced towait until she returned. Fifteen years ago Dima was the wildest kind ofjungle. I found it a model, tropical post with dozens of brick houses, ashipyard and machine shops, avenues of palm trees and a farm. It is theheadquarters of the Kasai Company in the Congo. 

I had a brick bungalow to myself and ate with the Managing Director, Monsieur Adrian Van den Hove. He knew no English and my alleged Frenchwas pretty bad. Yet we met three times a day at the table and carriedon spirited conversations. There was only one English-speaking personwithin a radius of a hundred miles and I had read all my English books. I vented my impatience in walking, for I covered at least fifteen milesthrough the jungle every day. This proceeding filled both the Belgiansand the natives with astonishment. The latter particularly could notunderstand why a man walked about the country aimlessly. Usually anative will only walk when he can move in the direction of food orsleep. On these solitary trips I went through a country that stillabounds in buffalo. Occasionally you see an elephant. It is one thing towatch a big tusker doing his tricks in a circus tent, but quite anotherto hear him floundering through the woods, tearing off huge branches oftrees as he moves along with what seems to be an incredible speed for soheavy an animal. 

There came the glad Sunday--it was my thirteenth day at Dima--when Iheard the whistle of the steamboat. I dashed down to the beach and therewas the little forty-ton "Madeleine. " I welcomed her as a long-lostfriend and this she proved to be. The second day afterwards I wentaboard and began a diverting chapter of my experience. The "Madeleine"is a type of the veteran Congo boat. In the old days the Belgianpioneers fought natives from its narrow deck. Despite incessant combatwith sand-banks, snags and swift currents--all these obstructions aboundin the Kasai River--she was still staunch. In command was the onlyBelgian captain that I had in the Congo, and he had been on these watersfor twenty years with only one holiday in Europe during the entire time. 

I occupied the alleged cabin-de-luxe, the large room that all theseboats must furnish in case an important State functionary wants totravel. My fellow passengers were two Catholic priests and three Belgian"agents, " as the Congo factors are styled. I ate alone on the main deckin front of my cabin, with Nelson in attendance. 

Now began a journey that did not lack adventure. It was the end of thedry season and the Kasai was lower than ever before. The channel wasalmost a continuous sand-bank. We rested on one of them for a whole day. I was now well into the domain of the hippopotamus. I am notexaggerating when I say that the Kasai in places is alive with them. Youcan shoot one of these monsters from the bridge of the river boatsalmost as easily as you could pick off a sparrow from the limb of a parktree. I got tired of watching them. The flesh of the hippopotamus isunfit for white consumption, but the natives regard it as a luxury. Thewhite man who kills a hippo is immediately acclaimed a hero. One reasonis that with spears the black finds it difficult to get the better ofone of these animals. 

Our first step was at a Lutheran Mission set in the middle of a populousvillage. As we approached I saw the American flag hanging over the doorof the most pretentious mud and grass house. When I went ashore I foundthat the missionaries--a man and his wife--were both American citizens. The husband was a Swede who had gone out to Kansas in his boyhood towork on a farm. There he married a Kansas girl, who now speaks Englishwith a Swedish accent. After spreading the gospel in China andelsewhere, they settled down in this lonely spot on the Kasai River. 

I was immediately impressed with the difference between the Congo Riverand the Kasai. The Congo is serene, brooding, majestic, and fringedwith an endless verdure. The Kasai, although 1, 500 miles in length, isnarrower and more pugnacious. Its brown banks and grim flankingmountains offer a welcome change from the eternal green of the greatriver that gives the Colony its name. The Kasai was discovered byLivingstone in 1854. 

I also got another change. Two days after I left Dima we were blanketedwith heavy fog every morning and the air was raw and chill. On the Kasaiyou can have every experience of trans-Atlantic travel with the soleexception of seasickness. 

As I proceeded up the Kasai I found continued evidence of the advance inprice of every food commodity. The omnipresent chicken that fetched afranc in 1914 now brings from five to ten. My old friend the goat hasrisen from ten to thirty francs and he was as tough as ever, despite therise. But foodstuffs are only a small part of these Congo economictroubles. 

We have suffered for some time under the burden of our inseparablecompanion, the High Cost of Living. It is slight compared with the HighCost of Loving in the Congo. Here you touch a real hardship. Before thewar a first-class wife--all wives are bought--sold for fifty francs. Today the market price for a choice spouse is two hundred francs and ittakes hard digging for the black man to scrape up this almostprohibitive fee. Thus the High Cost of Matrimony enters the list ofuniversal distractions. 

On the "Madeleine" was a fascinating black child named Nanda. He wasabout five years old and strolled about the boat absolutely naked. MostCongo parents are fond of their offspring but this particular youngster, who was bright and alert, was adored by his father, the head firemanon the vessel. One day I gave him a cake and it was the first piece ofsweet bread he had ever eaten. Evidently he liked it for afterwards heapproached me every hour with his little hands outstretched. I wasanxious to get a photograph of him in his natural state and took himashore ostensibly for a walk. One of my fellow passengers had a cameraand I asked him to come along. When the boy saw that he was about to besnapped he rushed back to the boat yelling and howling. I did not knowwhat was the matter until he returned in about ten minutes, wearing anabbreviated pair of pants and a short coat. He was willing to walk aboutnude but when it came to being pictured he suddenly became modest. Thisstate of mind, however, is not general in the Colony. 

[Illustration: FISHERMEN ON THE SANKURU]

[Illustration: THE FALLS OF THE SANKURU]

The African child is fond of playthings which shows that one touch ofamusement makes all childhood kin. He will swim half a mile through acrocodile-infested river to get an empty tin can or a bottle. One of thefavorite sports on the river boats is to throw boxes or bottles into thewater and then watch the children race for them. On the Congo thefathers sometimes manufacture rude reproductions of steamboats for theirchildren and some of them are astonishingly well made. 

Exactly twelve days after we left Dima the captain told me that we werenearing Djoko Punda. The country was mountainous and the river hadbecome swifter and deeper for we were approaching Wissmann Falls, theend of navigation for some distance. These falls are named for HermanWissmann, a lieutenant in the Prussian Army who in the opinion of suchauthorities as Sir Harry Johnston, ranks third in the hierarchy of earlyCongo explorers. Stanley, of course, comes first and Grenfell second. 

On account of the lack of certain communication save by runner in thispart of Africa--the traveller can always beat a wireless message--I wasunable to send any word of my coming and I wondered whom and what Iwould find there. I had the strongest possible letters to all theForminiere officials but these pieces of paper could not get me on toTshikapa. I needed something that moved on wheels. I was greatlyrelieved, therefore, when we came in sight of the post to see twounmistakable American figures standing on the bank. What cheered mefurther were two American motor cars nearby. 

The two Americans proved to be G. D. Moody and J. E. Robison. The formeris Assistant Chief Engineer of the Forminiere in the field and thelatter is in charge of the motor transport. They gave me a genuineAmerican welcome and that night I dined in Robison's grass house offAmerican food that had travelled nearly fifteen thousand miles. I heardthe first unadulterated Yankee conversation that had fallen on my earssince I left Elizabethville two months before. When I said that I wantedto push on to Tshikapa at once, Moody said, "We will leave at five inthe morning in one of the jitneys and be in Tshikapa tomorrow night. "Moody was an incorrigible optimist as I was soon to discover. 

IV

At dawn the next morning and after a breakfast of hot cakes we set out. Nelson was in a great state of excitement because he had never ridden inan automobile before. He was destined not to enjoy that rare privilegevery long. The rough highway hewed by American engineers through thethick woods was a foot deep in sand and before we had proceeded ahundred yards the car got stuck and all hands save Moody got out to pushit on. Moody was the chauffeur and had to remain at the wheel. Draped infog, the jungle about me had an almost eerie look. But aesthetic andemotional observations had to give way to practicality. Laboriously thejitney snorted through the sand and bumped over tree stumps. After astrenuous hour and when we had reached the open country, the machinegave a groan and died on the spot. We were on a broad plain on theoutskirts of a village and the broiling sun beat down on us. 

The African picaninny has just as much curiosity as his American brotherand in ten minutes the whole juvenile population was assembled aroundus. Soon the grown-ups joined the crowd. Naked women examined the tiresas if they were articles of food and black warriors stalked about withthe same sort of "I told you so" expression that you find in the face ofthe average American watching a motor car breakdown. Human nature is thesame the world over. The automobile is a novelty in these parts and whenthe Forminiere employed the first ones the natives actually thought itwas an animal that would finally get tired and quit. Mine stoppedwithout getting tired!

For six hours Moody laboured under the car while I sat in the glaringsun alongside the road and cursed fate. Nelson spent his time eating allthe available food in sight. Finally, at three o'clock Moody gave up andsaid, "We'll have to make the rest of this trip in a teapoy. "

A teapoy is usually a hammock slung on a pole carried on the shouldersof natives. We sent a runner in to Robison, who came back with twoteapoys and a squad of forty blacks to transport us. The "teapoy boy, "as he is called, is as much a part of the African scheme of life as adriver or a chauffeur is in America. He must be big, strong, and soundof wind, because he is required to go at a run all the time. For anyconsiderable journey each teapoy has a squad of eight men who alternateon the run without losing a step. They always sing as they go. 

I had never ridden in a teapoy before and now I began a continuous tripin one which lasted eight hours. Night fell almost before we got startedand it was a strange sensation to go sailing through the silent blackwoods and the excited villages where thousands of naked persons of allsizes turned out to see the show. After two hours I began to feel as ifI had been tossed up for a week in an army blanket. The wrist watch thatI had worn throughout the war and which had withstood the fiercest shellshocks and bombardments, was jolted to a standstill. After the fourthhour I became accustomed to the movement and even went to sleep for awhile. Midnight brought us to Kabambaie and the banks of the Kasai, where I found food and sanctuary at a Forminiere post. Here thethousands of tons of freight that come up the river from Dima bysteamer and which are carried by motor trucks, ox teams, and on theheads of natives to this point, are placed on whale-boats and sent upthe river to Tshikapa. 

Before going to bed I sent a runner to Tshikapa to notify Donald Doyle, Managing Engineer of the Forminiere in the field, that I was coming andto send a motor car out to meet me. I promised this runner much_matabeesh_, which is the African word for a tip, if he would run thewhole way. The distance through the jungle was exactly seventy-two milesand he covered it, as I discovered when I reached Tshikapa, in exactlytwenty-six hours, a remarkable feat. The _matabeesh_ I bestowed, by theway, was three francs (about eighteen cents) and the native regarded itas a princely gift because it amounted to nearly half a month's wages. 

By this time my confidence in the African jitney was somewhat shaken. Anew motor-boat had just been received at Kabambaie and I thought I wouldtake a chance with it and start up the Kasai the next day. Moody, assisted by several other engineers, set to work to get it in shape. Atnoon of the second day, when we were about to start, the engine went ona sympathetic strike with the jitney, and once more I was halted. I saidto Moody, "I am going to Tshikapa without any further delay if I have towalk the whole way. " This was not necessary for, thanks to theForminiere organization, which always has hundreds of native porters atKabambaie, I was able to organize a caravan in a few hours. 

After lunch we departed with a complete outfit of tents, bedding, andservants. The black personnel was thirty porters and a picked squad ofthirty-five teapoy boys to carry Moody and myself. Usually thesecaravans have a flag. I had none so the teapoy capita fished out a bigred bandanna handkerchief, which he tied to a stick. With the crimsonbanner flying and the teapoy carriers singing and playing rude nativeinstruments, we started off at a trot. I felt like an explorer goinginto the unknown places. It was the real thing in jungle experience. 

From two o'clock until sunset we trotted through the wilds, which werealmost thrillingly beautiful. In Africa there is no twilight, anddarkness swoops down like a hawk. All afternoon the teapoy men, aftertheir fashion, carried on what was literally a running crossfire ofquestions among themselves. They usually boast of their strength andtheir families and always discuss the white man they are carrying andhis characteristics. I heard much muttering of _Mafutta Mingi_ and Iknew long before we stopped that my weight was not a pleasant topic. 

I will try to reproduce some of the conversation that went on thatafternoon between my carriers. I will not give the native words but willtranslate into English the questions and answers as they were hurledback and forth. By way of explanation let me say beforehand that thereis no word in any of the Congo dialects for "yes. " Affirmation is alwaysexpressed by a grunt. Here is the conversation:

"Men of the white men. "

"Ugh. "

"Does he lie?"

"He lies not. "

"Does he shirk?"

"No. "

"Does he steal?"

"No. "

"Am I strong?"

"Ugh. "

"Have I a good liver?"

"Ugh. "

[Illustration: A CONGO DIAMOND MINE]

[Illustration: HOW THE MINES ARE WORKED]

 * * * * *

So it goes. One reason why these men talk so much is that all their workmust be accompanied by some sound. Up in the diamond fields I watched anative chopping wood. Every time the steel blade buried itself in thelog the man said: "Good axe. Cut deep. " He talked to the weapon just ashe would speak to a human being. It all goes to show that the Congonative is simply a child grown to man's stature. 

The fact that I had to resort to the teapoy illustrates theunreliability of mechanical transport in the wilds. I had tried in vainto make progress with an automobile and a motor boat, and was forced asa last resort to get back to the human being as carrier. He remains theunfailing beast of burden despite all scientific progress. 

I slept that night in a native house on the outskirts of a village. Itwas what is called a _chitenda_, which is a grass structure open at allthe sides. The last white man to occupy this domicile was Louis Franck, the Belgian Minister of the Colonies, who had gone up to the Forminierediamond fields a few weeks before. He used the same jitney that I hadstarted in, and it also broke down with him. Moody was his chauffeur. They made their way on foot to this village. Moody told the chief thathe had the real _Bula Matadi_ with him. The chief solemnly looked atFranck and said, "He is no _Bula Matadi_ because he does not wear anymedals. " Most high Belgian officials wear orders and the native dotes onshiny ornaments. The old savage refused to sell the travellers any foodand the Minister had to share the beans of the negro boys whoaccompanied him. 

Daybreak saw us on the move. For hours we swung through dense forestwhich made one think of the beginnings of the world when the big treeswere king. The vastness and silence were only comparable to the broodingmystery of the jungle nights. You have no feel of fear but oddly enough, a strange sense of security. 

I realized as never before, the truth that lay behind one of Stanley'sconvictions. He once said, "No luxury of civilization can be equal tothe relief from the tyranny of custom. The wilds of a great city aregreater than the excruciating tyranny of a small village. The heart ofAfrica is infinitely preferable to the heart of the world's largestcity. If the way were easier, millions would fly to it. "

Despite this enthralling environment I kept wondering if that runner hadreached Doyle and if a car had been sent out. At noon we emerged fromthe forest into a clearing. Suddenly Moody said, "I hear an automobileengine. " A moment later I saw a small car burst through the trees farahead and I knew that relief was at hand. Dr. John Dunn, the physicianat Tshikapa, had started at dawn to meet me, and my teapoy adventures, for the moment, were ended. Dr. Livingstone at Ujiji had no keenerfeeling of relief at the sight of Stanley that I felt when I shook thehand of this bronzed, Middle Western medico. 

We lunched by the roadside and afterwards I got into Dunn's car andresumed the journey. I sent the porters and teapoy men back toKabambaie. Late in the afternoon we reached the bluffs overlooking theUpper Kasai. Across the broad, foaming river was Tshikapa. If I had notknown that it was an American settlement, I would have sensed itssponsorship. It radiated order and neatness. The only parallels in theCongo are the various areas of the Huileries du Congo Belge. 

V

Tshikapa, which means "belt, " is a Little America in every sense. Itcommands the junction of the Tshikapa and Kasai rivers. There are dozensof substantial brick dwellings, offices, warehouses, machine-shops and ahospital. For a hundred miles to the Angola border and far beyond, theYankee has cut motor roads and set up civilization generally. You seeAmerican thoroughness on all sides, even in the immense native villageswhere the mine employees live. Instead of having compounds the companyencourages the blacks to establish their own settlements and live theirown lives. It makes them more contented and therefore more efficient, and it establishes a colony of permanent workers. When the native isconfined to a compound he gets restless and wants to go back home. TheAmericans are helping to solve the Congo labour problem. 

At Tshikapa you hear good old United States spoken with every dialecticflavour from New England hardness to Texas drawl. In charge of all theoperations in the field was Doyle, a clear-cut, upstanding Americanengineer who had served his apprenticeship in the Angola jungles, wherehe was a member of one of the first American prospecting parties. Withhis wife he lived in a large brick bungalow and I was their guest in itduring my entire stay in the diamond fields. Mrs. Doyle embodied thesame courage that animated Mrs. Wallace. Too much cannot be said of thefaith and fortitude of these women who share their husband's fortunesout at the frontiers of civilization. 

At Tshikapa there were other white women, including Mrs. Dunn, who hadrecently converted her hospitable home into a small maternity hospital. Only a few weeks before my arrival Mrs. Edwin Barclay, wife of themanager of the Mabonda Mine, had given birth to a girl baby under itsroof, and I was taken over at once to see the latest addition to theAmerican colony. 

On the day of my arrival the natives employed at this mine had sent Mrs. Barclay a gift of fifty newly-laid eggs as a present for the baby. Accompanying it was a rude note scrawled by one of the foremen who hadattended a Presbyterian mission school. The birth of a white baby isalways a great event in the Congo. When Mrs. Barclay returned to herhome a grand celebration was held and the natives feasted and danced inhonour of the infant. 

There is a delightful social life at Tshikapa. Most of the mines, whichare mainly in charge of American engineers, are within a day'stravelling distance in a teapoy and much nearer by automobile. Some ofthe managers have their families with them, and they foregather at themain post every Sunday. On Thanksgiving, the Fourth of July, andChristmas there is always a big rally which includes a dance andvaudeville show in the men's mess hall. The Stars and Stripes areunfurled to the African breeze and the old days in the States recalled. It is real community life on the fringe of the jungle. 

I was struck with the big difference between the Congo diamond fieldsand those at Kimberley. In South Africa the mines are gaping gashes inthe earth thousands of feet wide and thousands deep. They are all"pipes" which are formed by volcanic eruption. These pipes are the realsource of the diamonds. The precious blue ground which contains thestones is spread out on immense "floors" to decompose under sun andrain. Afterwards it is broken in crushers and goes through a series ofmechanical transformations. The diamonds are separated from theconcentrates on a pulsating table covered with vaseline. The gems clingto the oleaginous substance. It is an elaborate process. 

The Congo mines are alluvial and every creek and river bed is thereforea potential diamond mine. The only labour necessary is to remove theupper layer of earth, --the "overburden" as it is termed--dig up thegravel, shake it out, and you have the concentrate from which a nakedsavage can pick the precious stones. They are precisely like the minesof German South-West Africa. So far no "pipes" have been discovered inthe Kasai basin. Many indications have been found, and it is inevitablethat they will be located in time. The diamond-bearing earth sometimestravels very far from its base, and the American engineers in the Congowith whom I talked are convinced that these volcanic formations whichusually produce large stones, lie far up in the Kasai hills. Thediamond-bearing area of the Belgian Congo and Angola covers nearly eightthousand square miles and only five per cent has been prospected. Thereis not the slightest doubt that one of the greatest diamond fields everknown is in the making here. 

Now for a real human interest detail. At Kimberley the Zulus and Kaffirsknow the value of the diamond and there was formerly considerablefilching. All the workers are segregated in barbed wire compounds andkept under constant surveillance. At the end of their period ofservice they remain in custody for two weeks in order to make certainthat they have not swallowed any stones. 

[Illustration: GRAVEL CARRIERS AT A CONGO MINE]

[Illustration: CONGO NATIVES PICKING OUT DIAMONDS]

The Congo natives do not know what a diamond really is. The majoritybelieve that it is simply a piece of glass employed in the making ofbottles, and there are a good many bottles of various kinds in theColony. Hence no watch is kept on the hundreds of Balubas who are mainlyemployed in the task of picking out the glittering jewels. During thepast five years, when the product in the Congo fields has grownsteadily, not a single karat has been stolen. The same situation obtainsin the Angola fields. 

In company with Doyle I visited the eight principal mines in the Congofield and saw the process of mining in all its stages of advancement. Atthe Kisele development, which is almost within sight of Tshikapa, thesmall "jigs" in which the gravel is shaken, are operated by hand. Thisis the most primitive method. At Mabonda the concentrate pans aremounted on high platforms. Here the turning is also by hand but on alarger scale. The Ramona mine has steam-driven pans, while at Tshisundu, which is in charge of William McMillan, I witnessed the last word inalluvial diamond mining. At this place Forminiere has erected animposing power plant whose tall smokestack dominates the surroundingforest. You get a suggestion of Kimberley for the excavation is immense, and there is the hum and movement of a pretentious industrialenterprise. Under the direction of William McMillan a researchdepartment has been established which is expected to influence andpossibly change alluvial operations. 

Our luncheon at Tshisundu was attended by Mrs. McMillan, anotherheroine of that rugged land. Alongside sat her son, born in 1918 at oneof the mines in the field and who was as lusty and animated a youngsteras I have seen. His every movement was followed by the eagle eye of hisnative nurse who was about twelve years old. These native attendantsregard it as a special privilege to act as custodians of a white childand invariably a close intimacy is established between them. They reallybecome playmates. 

It is difficult to imagine that these Congo diamond mines were merepatches of jungle a few years ago. The task of exploitation has been animmense one. Before the simplest mine can be operated the dense forestmust be cleared and the river beds drained. Every day the mine manageris confronted with some problem which tests his ingenuity and resource. Only the Anglo-Saxon could hold his own amid these trying circumstances. 

No less difficult were the natives themselves. Before the advent of theAmerican engineers, industry was unknown in the Upper Kasai. The onlyorganized activity was the harvesting of rubber and that was rather ahaphazard performance. With the opening of the mines thousands ofuntrained blacks had to be drawn into organized service. They had nevereven seen the implements of labour employed by the whites. When theywere given wheel-barrows and told to fill and transport the earth, theyplaced the barrows on their heads and carried them to the designatedplace. They repeated the same act with shovels. 

The Yankees have thoroughly impressed the value and the nobility oflabour. I asked one of the employes at a diamond mine what he thought ofthe Americans. His reply was, "Americans and work were born on the sameday. "

The labour of opening up the virgin land was only one phase. Every pieceof machinery and every tin of food had to be transported thousands ofmiles and this condition still obtains. The motor road from Djoko Pundato Kabambaie was hacked by American engineers through the jungle. It iscomparatively easy to get supplies to Djoko Punda although everythingmust be shifted from railway to boat several times. Between Djoko Pundaand Tshikapa the material is hauled in motor trucks and ox-drawn wagonsor conveyed on the heads of porters to Kabambaie. Some of it istransshipped to whale-boats and paddled up to Tshikapa, and theremainder continues in the wagons overland. During 1920 seven hundredand fifty tons of freight were hauled from Djoko Punda in this laboriousway. 

At the time of my visit there were twelve going mines in the Congofield, and three new ones were in various stages of advancement. TheForminiere engineers also operate the diamond concessions of the KasaiCompany and the Bas Congo Katanga Railway which will run from theKatanga to Kinshassa. 

More than twelve thousand natives are employed throughout the Congo areaalone and nowhere have I seen a more contented lot of blacks. TheForminiere obtains this good-will by wisely keeping the price of tradegoods such as salt and calico at the pre-war rate. It is an admirableinvestment. This merchandise is practically the legal tender of thejungle. With a cup of salt a black man can start an endless chain oftrading that will net him a considerable assortment of articles in time. 

The principal natives in the Upper Kasai are the Balubas, who bear thesame relation to this area as the Bangalas do to the Upper Congo. Themen are big, strong, and fairly intelligent. The principal tribal markis the absence of the two upper central incisor teeth. These are usuallyknocked out in early boyhood. No Baluba can marry until he can show thisgaping space in his mouth. Although the natives abuse their teeth byremoving them or filing them down to points, they take excellent care ofthe remaining ivories. Many polish the teeth with a stick and wash theirmouths several times a day. The same cannot be said of many civilizedpersons. 

I observed that the families in the Upper Kasai were much more numerousthan elsewhere in the Congo. A Bangala or Batetela woman usually has onechild and then goes out of the baby business. In the region dominated bythe Forminiere it is no infrequent thing to see three or four childrenin a household. A woman who bears twins is not only hailed as a realbenefactress but the village looks upon the occasion as a good omen. This is in direct contrast with the state of mind in East Africa, forexample, where one twin is invariably killed. 

I encountered an interesting situation concerning twins when I visitedthe Mabonda Mine. This is one of the largest in the Congo field. Barclay, the big-boned American manager, formerly conducted engineeringoperations in the southern part of America. He therefore knows the Negropsychology and the result is that he conducts a sort of amiable andpaternalistic little kingdom all his own. The natives all come to himwith their troubles, and he is their friend, philosopher and guide. 

After lunch one day he asked me if I would like to talk to a native whohad a story. When I expressed assent he took me out to a shed nearby andthere I saw a husky Baluba who was labouring under some excitement. Thereason was droll. Four days before, his wife had given birth to twinsand there was great excitement in the village. The natives, however, refused to have anything to do with him because, to use their phrase, "he was too strong. " His wife did not come under this ban and was thecenter of jubilation and gesticulation. The poor husband was a sort ofheroic outcast and had to come to Barclay to get some food and a drinkof palm wine to revive his drooping spirits. 

The output in the Congo diamond area has grown from a few thousandkarats to hundreds of thousands of karats a year. The stones are smallbut clear and brilliant. This yield is an unsatisfactory evidence of therichness of the domain. The ore reserves are more than ten per cent ofthe yearly output and the surface of the concession has scarcely beenscratched. Experienced diamond men say that a diamond in the ground isworth two in the market. It is this element of the unknown that givesthe Congo field one of its principal potentialities. 

The Congo diamond fields are merely a part of the Forminieretreasure-trove. Over in Angola the concession is eight times larger inarea, the stones are bigger, and with adequate exploitation shouldsurpass the parent production in a few years. Six mines are already inoperation and three more have been staked out. The Angola mines arealluvial and are operated precisely like those in Belgian territory. Themanaging engineer is Glenn H. Newport, who was with Decker in the fatalencounter with Batchoks. The principal post of this area is Dundu, whichis about forty miles from the Congo border. 

As I looked at these mines with their thousands of grinning natives andheard the rattle of gravel in the "jigs" my mind went back to Kimberleyand the immense part that its glittering wealth played in determiningthe economic fate of South Africa. Long before the gold "rush" opened upin the Rand, the diamond mines had given the southern section of thecontinent a rebirth of prosperity. Will the Congo mines perform the sameservice for the Congo? In any event they will be a determining factor inthe future world diamond output. 

No record of America in the Congo would be complete without a referenceto the high part that our missionaries have played in thespiritualization of the land. The stronghold of our religious influenceis also the Upper Kasai Basin. In 1890 two devoted men, Samuel N. Lapsley, a white clergyman, and William H. Sheppard, a Negro fromAlabama, established the American Presbyterian Congo Mission at Luebowhich is about one hundred miles from Tshikapa straight across country. 

The valley of the Sankuru and Kasai Rivers is one of the most denselypopulated of all the Belgian Congo. It is inhabited by five powerfultribes--the Baluba, the Bena Lulua, the Bakuba, the Bakete and theZappozaps, and their united population is one-fifth of that of the wholeColony. Hence it was a fruitful field for labour but a hard one. From anhumble beginning the work has grown until there are now seven importantstations with scores of white workers, hundreds of native evangelists, one of the best equipped hospitals in Africa, and a manual trainingschool that is teaching the youth of the land how to become prosperousand constructive citizens. Under its inspiration the population of Luebohas grown from two thousand in 1890 to eighteen thousand in 1920. 

The two fundamental principles underlying this splendid undertakinghave been well summed up as follows: "First, the attainment of a Churchsupported by the natives through the thrift and industry of their ownhands. The time is past when we may merely teach the native to become aChristian and then leave him in his poverty and squalor where he can beof little or no use to the Church. Second, the preparation of the nativeto take the largest and most influential position possible in thedevelopment of the Colony. Practically the only thing open to theCongolese is along the mechanical and manual lines. "

[Illustration: WASHING OUT GRAVEL]

[Illustration: DONALD DOYLE (LEFT) AND MR. MARCOSSON]

One of the noblest actors in this American missionary drama was the lateRev. W. M. Morrison, who went out to the Congo in 1896. Realizing thatthe most urgent need was a native dictionary, he reduced theBaluba-Lulua language to writing. In 1906 he published a Dictionary andGrammar which included the Parables of Christ, the Miracles, theEpistles to the Romans in paraphrase. He also prepared a Catechism basedon the Shorter and Child's Catechisms. This gave the workers in thefield a definite instrument to employ, and it has been a beneficentinfluence in shaping the lives and morals of the natives. 

One phase of the labours of the American Presbyterian Congo Missiondiscloses the bondage of the Congo native to the Witch Doctor. Themoment he feels sick he rushes to the sorcerer, usually a bedaubedbarbarian who practices weird and mysterious rites, and who generallysucceeds in killing off his patient. More than ninety per cent of thepagan population of Africa not only acknowledges but fears the powers ofthe Witch Doctor. Only two-fifths of one per cent are under Christianmedical treatment. The Presbyterian Missionaries, therefore, from thevery outset have sought to bring the native into the ken of the whitephysician. It is a slow process. One almost unsurmountable obstacle liesin the uncanny grip that the "medicine man" wields in all the tribes. 

It is largely due to the missionaries that the practice of handshakinghas been introduced in the Congo. Formerly the custom was to clap handswhen exchanging greetings. The blacks saw the Anglo-Saxons grasp handswhen they met and being apt imitators in many things, they started to dolikewise. One of the first things that impressed me in Africa was theextraordinary amount of handshaking that went on when the people meteach other even after a separation of only half an hour. 

VI

I had originally planned to leave Africa at St. Paul de Loanda inPortuguese West Africa, where Thomas F. Ryan and his Belgian associateshave acquired the new oil wells and set up still another importantoutpost of our overseas financial venturing. But so much time had beenconsumed in reaching Tshikapa that I determined to return to Kinshassa, go on to Matadi, and catch the boat for Europe at the end of August. 

There were two ways of getting back to Kabambaie. One was to go in anautomobile through the jungle, and the other by boat down the Kasai. Between Kabambaie and Djoko Punda there is practically no navigation onaccount of the succession of dangerous rapids. Since my faith in thejitney was still impaired I chose the river route and it gave me themost stirring of all my African experiences. The two motor boats atTshikapa were out of commission so I started at daybreak in a whale-boatmanned by forty naked native paddlers. 

The fog still hung over the countryside and the scene as we got underway was like a Rackham drawing of goblins and ghosts. I sat forward inthe boat with the ranks of singing, paddling blacks behind me. From themoment we started and until I landed, the boys kept up an incessantchanting. One of their number sat forward and pounded the iron gunwalewith a heavy stick. When he stopped pounding the paddlers ceased theirefforts. The only way to make the Congo native work is to provide himwith noise. 

All day we travelled down the river through schools of hippopotami, someof them near enough for me to throw a stone into the cavernous mouths. The boat capita told me that he would get to Kabambaie by sundown. Likethe average New York restaurant waiter, he merely said what he thoughthis listener wanted to hear. I fervently hoped he was right because wenot only had a series of rapids to shoot up-river, but at Kabambaie is aseething whirlpool that has engulfed hundreds of natives and theirboats. At sunset we had only passed through the first of the troubledzones. Nightfall without a moon found me still moving, and with theswirling eddy far ahead. 

I had many close calls during the war. They ranged from the first-linetrenches of France, Belgium, and Italy to the mine fields of the NorthSea while a winter gale blew. I can frankly say that I never felt suchapprehension as on the face of those surging waters, with black nightand the impenetrable jungle about me. The weird singing of the paddlersonly heightened the suspense. I thought that every tight place would bemy last. Finally at eight o'clock, and after it seemed that I had spentyears on the trip, we bumped up against the shore of Kabambaie, within ahundred feet of the fatal spot. 

The faithful Moody, who preceded me, had revived life in the jonahjitney and at dawn the next day we started at full speed and reachedDjoko Punda by noon. The "Madeleine" was waiting for me with steam up, for I sent a runner ahead. I had ordered Nelson back from Kabambaiebecause plenty of servants were available there. He spent his week ofidleness at Djoko Punda in exploring every food known to the country. Atone o'clock I was off on the first real stage of my homeward journey. The swift current made the downward trip much faster than the upward andI was not sorry. 

As we neared Basongo the captain came to me and said, "I see twoAmericans standing on the bank. Shall I take them aboard?"

Almost before I could say that I would be delighted, we were withinhailing distance of the post. An American voice with a Cleveland, Ohio, accent called out to me and asked my name. When I told him, he said, "I'll give you three copies of the _Saturday Evening Post_ if you willtake us down to Dima. We have been stranded here for nearly three weeksand want to go home. "

I yelled back that they were more than welcome for I not only wanted tohelp out a pair of countrymen in distress but I desired somecompanionship on the boat. They were Charles H. Davis and HenryFairbairn, both Forminiere engineers who had made their way overlandfrom the Angola diamond fields. Only one down-bound Belgian boat hadpassed since their arrival and it was so crowded with Belgian officialson their way to Matadi to catch the August steamer for Europe, thatthere was no accommodation for them. By this time they were joined by acompanion in misfortune, an American missionary, the Rev. Roy FieldsCleveland, who was attached to the Mission at Luebo. He had come toBasongo on the little missionary steamer, "The Lapsley, " and sent itback, expecting to take the Belgian State boat. Like the engineers, hecould get no passage. 

Davis showed his appreciation of my rescue of the party by immediatelyhanding over the three copies of the Post, which were more than sevenmonths old and which had beguiled his long nights in the field. Cleveland did his bit in the way of gratitude by providing hot griddlecakes every morning. He had some American cornmeal and he had taught hisnative servant how to produce the real article. 

At Dima I had the final heart-throb of the trip. I had arranged to takethe "Fumu N'Tangu, " a sister ship of the "Madeleine, " from this point toKinshassa. When I arrived I found that she was stuck on a sandbank onehundred miles down the river. My whole race against time to catch theAugust steamer would have been futile if I could not push on toKinshassa at once. 

Happily, the "Yser, " the State boat that had left Davis, Fairbairn, andCleveland high and dry at Basongo, had put in at Dima the day before torepair a broken paddle-wheel and was about to start. I beat the"Madeleine's" gangplank to the shore and tore over to the Captain of the"Yser. " When I told him I had to go to Kinshassa he said, "I cannot takeyou. I only have accommodations for eight people and am carrying forty. "I flashed my royal credentials on him and he yielded. I got the sofa, orrather the bench called a sofa, in his cabin. 

On the "Yser" I found Mr. And Mrs. Charles L. Crane, both Southerners, who were returning to the United States after eight years at service atone of the American Presbyterian Mission Stations. With them were theirtwo youngest children, both born in the Congo. The eldest girl, who wasfive years old, could only speak the Baluba language. From her infancyher nurses had been natives and she was facing the problem of going toAmerica for the first time without knowing a word of English. It wasquaintly amusing to hear her jabber with the wood-boys and the firemenon board and with the people of the various villages where westopped. 

[Illustration: THE PARK AT BOMA]

[Illustration: A STREET IN MATADI]

The Cranes were splendid types of the American missionary workers forthey were human and companionable. I had found Cleveland of the samecalibre. Like many other men I had an innate prejudice against theforeign church worker before I went to Africa. I left with a strongadmiration for him, and with it a profound respect. 

Kinshassa looked good to me when we arrived after four days' travelling, but I did not tarry long. I was relieved to find that I was in ampletime to catch the August steamer at Matadi. It was at Kinshassa that Ilearned of the nominations of Cox and Harding for the Presidency, although the news was months old. 

The morning after I reached Stanley Pool I boarded a special car on thehistoric narrow-gauge railway that runs from Kinshassa to Matadi. At thestation I was glad to meet Major and Mrs. Wallace, who like myself werebound for home. I invited them to share my car and we pulled out. Onthis railway, as on all other Congo lines, the passengers provide theirown food. The Wallaces had their servant whom I recognized as one of thestaff at Alberta. Nelson still held the fort for me. Between us wemobilized an elaborate lunch fortified by fruit that we bought at one ofthe many stations where we halted. 

We spent the night at the hotel at Thysville high in the mountains andwhere it was almost freezing cold. This place is named for GeneralAlbert Thys, who was attached to the colonial administration of KingLeopold and who founded the Compagnie du Congo Pour le Commerce etl'Industrie, the "Queen-Dowager, " as it is called, of all the Congocompanies. His most enduring monument, however, is the Chemin de Fer duCongo Matadi-Stanley Pool. He felt with Stanley that there could be nodevelopment of the Congo without a railway between Matadi and StanleyPool. 

The necessity was apparent. At Matadi, which is about a hundred milesfrom the sea, navigation on the Congo River ceases because here begins asuccession of cataracts that extend almost as far as Leopoldville. Inthe old days all merchandise had to be carried in sixty-pound loads toStanley Pool on the heads of natives. The way is hard for it is up anddown hill and traverses swamps and morasses. Every year ten thousand menliterally died in their tracks. The human loss was only one detail ofthe larger loss of time. 

Under the stimulating leadership of General Thys, the railway wasstarted in 1890 and was opened for traffic eight and a half years later. Perhaps no railway in the world took such heavy toll. It is two hundredand fifty miles in length and every kilometer cost a white life andevery meter a black one. Only the graves of the whites are marked. Youcan see the unending procession of headstones along the right of way. During its construction the project was bitterly assailed. The wiseacrescontended that it was visionary, impracticable, and impossible. In thisrespect it suffered the same experience as all the other pioneeringAfrican railways and especially those of Sierra Leone, the Gold Coast, Uganda, and the Soudan. 

The scenery between Thysville and Matadi is noble and inspiring. Thetrack winds through grim highlands and along lovely valleys. The hillsare rich with colour, and occasionally you can see a frightened antelopescurrying into cover in the woods. As you approach Matadi the landscapetakes on a new and more rugged beauty. Almost before you realize it, you emerge from a curve in the mountains and the little town sointimately linked with Stanley's early trials as civilizer, lies beforeyou. 

Matadi is built on a solid piece of granite. The name is a version ofthe word _matari_ which means rock. In certain parts of Africa theletter "r" is often substituted for "d. " Stanley's native name was inreality "Bula Matari, " but on account of the license that I haveindicated he is more frequently known as "Bula Matadi, " the title nowbestowed on all officials in the Congo. It was at Matadi that Stanleyreceived the designation because he blasted a road through the rockswith dynamite. 

With its winding and mountainous streets and its polyglot population, Matadi is a picturesque spot. It is the goal of every official throughthe long years of his service in the bush for at this place he boardsthe steamer that takes him to Europe. This is the pleasant side of thepicture. On the other hand, Matadi is where the incoming ocean travellerfirst sets foot on Congo soil. If it happens to be the wet season thefoot is likely to be scorched for it is by common consent one of thehottest spots in all the universe. That well-known fable about frying anegg in the sun is an every-day reality here six months of the year. 

Matadi is the administrative center of the Lower Congo railway which hasextensive yards, repair-shops, and hospitals for whites and blacks. Nearby are the storage tanks and pumping station of the oil pipe linethat extends from Matadi to Kinshassa. It was installed just before theGreat War and has only been used for one shipment of fluid. With theoutbreak of hostilities it was impossible to get petroleum. Now thatpeace has come, its operations will be resumed because it is planned toconvert many of the Congo River steamers into oil-burners. 

Tied up at a Matadi quay was "The Schoodic, " one of the United StatesShipping Board war-built freighters. The American flag at her stern gaveme a real thrill for with the exception of the solitary national emblemI had seen at Tshikapa it was the first I had beheld since I leftCapetown. I lunched several times on board and found the internationalpersonnel so frequent in our merchant marine. The captain was a nativeof the West Indies, the first mate had been born in Scotland, the chiefengineer was a Connecticut Yankee, and the steward a Japanese. They werea happy family though under the Stars and Stripes and we spent manyhours together spinning yarns and wishing we were back home. 

In the Congo nothing ever moves on schedule time. I expected to boardthe steamer immediately after my arrival at Matadi and proceed toAntwerp. There was the usual delay, and I had to wait a week. Hence thediversion provided by "The Schoodic" was a godsend. 

The blessed day came when I got on "The Anversville" and changed fromthe dirt and discomfort of the river boat and the colonial hotel to theluxury of the ocean vessel. It was like stepping into paradise to getsettled once more in an immaculate cabin with its shining brass bedsteadand the inviting bathroom adjacent. I spent an hour calmly sitting onthe divan and revelling in this welcome environment. It was almost toogood to be true. 

Nelson remained with me to the end. He helped the stewards place myluggage in the ship, which was the first liner he had ever seen. He wasalmost appalled at its magnitude. I asked him if he would like toaccompany me to Europe. He shook his head solemnly and said, "No, master. The ship is too big and I am afraid of it. I want to go home toElizabethville. " As a parting gift I gave him more money than he hadever before seen in his life. It only elicited this laconic response, "Now I am rich enough to buy a wife. " With these words he bade mefarewell. 

[Illustration: A GENERAL VIEW OF MATADI]

"The Anversville" was another agreeable surprise. She is one of threesister ships in the service of the Compagnie Belge Maritime du Congo. The other two are "The Albertville" and "The Elizabethville. " Theoriginal "Elizabethville" was sunk by a German submarine during the waroff the coast of France. These vessels are big, clean, and comfortableand the service is excellent. 

All vessels to and from Europe stop at Boma, the capital of the Congo, which is five hours steaming down river from Matadi. We remained herefor a day and a half because the Minister of the Colonies was to go backon "The Anversville. " I was glad of the opportunity for it enabled me tosee this town, which is the mainspring of the colonial administration. The palace of the Governor-General stands on a commanding hill and is apretentious establishment. The original capital of the Congo was Vivi, established by Stanley at a point not far from Matadi. It was abandonedsome year ago on account of its undesirable location. There is a strongsentiment that Leopoldville and not Boma should be the capital and it isnot unlikely that this change will be made. 

The Minister of the Colonies and Monsieur Henry, the Governor-General, who also went home on our boat, received a spectacular send-off. Athousand native troops provided the guard of honour which was drawn upon the bank of the river. Native bands played, flags waved, and thepopulace, which included hundreds of blacks, shouted a noisy farewell. 

Slowly and majestically the vessel backed away from the pier and turnedits prow downstream. With mingled feelings of relief and regret Iwatched the shores recede as the body of the river widened. Near themouth it is twenty miles wide and hundreds of feet deep. 

At Banana Point I looked my last on the Congo River. For months I hadfollowed its winding way through a land that teems with hidden life andresists the inroads of man. I had been lulled to sleep by its dull roar;I had observed its varied caprice; I had caught the glamour of itssubtle charm. Something of its vast and mysterious spirit laid hold ofme. Now at parting the mighty stream seemed more than ever to beinvested with a tenacious human quality. Sixty miles out at sea itssullen brown current still vies with the green and blue of the oceanswell. It lingers like the spell of all Africa. 

The Congo is merely a phase of the larger lure. 

INDEX

Albert, King of Belgium, 141, 226, 240Albert, Lake, 60, 180Alberta, 208, 209, 211, 212, 214Albertville, 60Ants, 155, 156Armour, J. Ogden, 125

Bailey, Sir Abe, 135Ball, Sidney H. , 244, 245Baluba, 203Bangala, The, 194, 195, 200, 203Barclay, Mrs. Edwin, 265Barclay, Mr. Edwin, 265, 270Barnato, Barney, 70-80, 86Basuto, 92

Bechuanaland, 103, 106-108, 113Behr, H. C. , 86Beira, 119, 127, 150Belgian Congo, 59, 81, 107, 124, 125, 130, 139-177, 225, 227-230, 241-284Benguella, 151Bia Expedition, 241Bolobo, 202Botha, General, 16-17, 19, 22, 23, 24-26, 38, 39, 74, 98Braham, I. F. , 212, 213, 214Brandsma, Father, 192, 193British South Africa Company, 108-111, 115, 126-127Broken Hill Railway, 146Bukama, 61, 160, 163Bulawayo, 104-106, 112, 113, 127, 130, 134, 135, 144, 150Bunge, Edward, 244Butner, Daniel, 149Butters, Charles, 86, 88

Cairo, 57Cameroons, 100, 101Campbell, J. G. , 167-168"Cape-boy, " 93Cape Colony, 23, 64"Cape-to-Cairo, " 57-101, 108, 146, 150-151Capetown, 17, 28-30, 57, 68, 74, 76, 104, 105, 114Carnahan, Thomas, 149Carrie, Albert, 248-249Carson, Sir Edward, 27Casement, Sir Roger, 100, 142Chaka, 105Chaplin, Sir Drummond, 109-110Chilembwe, John, 94Clement, Victor M. , 86, 88Cleveland, President, 227Cleveland, Rev. Roy Fields, 277, 278"Comte de Flandre, " 189-192, 197Congo-Kasai Province, 221, 246, 248Congo River, The, 59, 140-145, 153, 160-162, 179-284Coquilhatville, 201-202, 216Crane, Mr. And Mrs. Charles L. , 278-279Creswell, Col. F. H. P. , 29-30Cullinan, Thomas M. , 90Curtis, J. S. , 86, 88

Davis, Charles H. , 277, 278Dean, Captain, 187, 188DeBeers, 78-80, 129Delcommune, Alexander, 243-244Diamonds, 64, 76, 77-90, 94, 134, 135, 146, 152, 244, 265; Congo Fields, 265-269; Congo Output, 152Djoko Punda, 225, 247, 255, 269, 275, 276Doyle, Donald, 259, 262, 267Doyle, Mrs. Donald, 264Dubois, Lieutenant, 187-188Dunn, Dr. John, 262Durban 69Dutoitspan Mine, 81

Elizabethville, 145, 147, 148, 149, 153, 157, 181

Fairbairn, Henry, 277, 278Forminiere, The, 225-228, 232-234, 237, 256, 257, 261, 277Franck, Louis, 169-176, 179Francqui, Emile, 239-243Fungurume, 157, 160

George, Lloyd, 15, 38, 40-42, 45German East Africa, 70, 101, 166German South-West Africa, 25, 70, 73, 81, 99, 101, 152Germany in Africa, 98-101, 150, 151, 165, 166, 174, 210, 216, 231Gerome, 157, 181Gordon, General, 58, 187Grenfell, George, 198, 201, 203, 255Grey, George, 147Groote Schuur, 32-34, 36, 41, 47, 53, 114Guggenheim, Daniel, 235

Hammond, John Hays, 84, 86, 88, 128-129, 235Harriman, E. H. , 238, 239Hellman, Fred, 86Hertzog, General W. B. M. , 25-28, 46, 50-51, 53Hex River, 76Honnold, W. L. , 86Horner, Preston K. , 149, 157Hottentot, 92, 93Hoy, Sir William W. , 66-67Huileries du Congo Belge, 189, 208-212, 222, 226, 263

Jadot, Jean, 237-238, 239, 241, 243Jameson, Raid, 23, 86, 87, 89, 100, 115Jameson, Sir Starr 80, 89, 106, 111, 117, 136Janot, N. , 245Jenkins, Hennen, 86, 87Jennings, Sidney, 86Johannesburg, 30, 65, 76, 78, 84, 85, 89, 93, 103, 105, 244Johnston, Sir Harry, 197, 201, 203, 212, 255

Kabalo, 60, 165Kabambaie, 258, 259, 275, 276Kaffir, 64, 71, 82, 92, 266Kahew, Frank, 149Kambove, 149, 150Karoo, 77Kasai River, 95-96, 156, 189, 191, 199, 217, 223, 225, 227, 246, 247, 249, 253-258, 264, 269, 275Katanga, 145-146, 147, 148, 149, 150-153, 165, 174-175, 181, 194, 226, 241Kimberley, 64, 76, 77, 90, 94, 134, 135, 146, 154, 244, 265Kindu, 59, 168-169, 170Kinshassa, 153, 190, 201, 216, 217, 221-222, 247, 275, 281Kitchener, Lord, 15, 39, 77Kito, 180-181Kongolo, 59, 166, 168, 177Kruger, Paul, 22, 38, 47, 87-88, 89, 100, 107Kwamouth, 217, 247Kwilu River, 47, 209, 226

Labram, George, 82-83Lane, Capt. E. F. C. , 43Leggett, T. H. , 86Leopold, King, 106, 139, 142, 150, 158, 226, 227, 228, 229, 230-235, 244, 245Leopoldville, 221, 222Leverhulme, Lord, 189, 208, 248Leverville, 209Lewaniki, 125Livingstone, Dr. , 184, 185, 254Lobengula, 105, 106, 112, 115, 134"Louis Cousin, " 160-162Lowa, 170Lualaba River, 59, 60, 160, 161-164, 168, 170, 177, 190, 191, 197Luluaburg, 215Lusanga, 249, 251

Mabonda Mine, 265, 270"Madeleine, " 252-254, 276Mafeking, 103Maguire, Rochfort, 107Mahagi, 59-60, 62Maize, 124-125Mashonaland, 106, 111-112Matabele, 103, 105, 106, 112, 113, 115, 126, 134Matadi, 279-281, 282Matopo Hills, 113-114, 115, 135McMillan, William, 267McMillan, Mrs. William, 268Mein, Capt. Thomas, 86, 88Mein, W. W. , 86Merriman, J. X. , 94Milner, Lord, 118Mohun, R. D. L. , 244, 245, 246Moody, G. D. , 256, 257, 258, 259, 261, 276Morgan, J. P. 74, 228, 238Morrison, Rev. W. M. , 273Moul, R. D. , 143

Nanda, 254, 255Natal, 21, 23, 78, 122Nelson, 181-182, 248, 257, 258, 276, 282, 283Newport, Glenn H. , 271Nile River, 59, 60, 175Nyassaland, 94, 142

Oliver, Roland B. , 245Orange Free State, 21, 23, 25, 50, 106, 139

Perkins, H. C. , 86Plumer, Lord, 113Ponthierville, 59, 152, 170Port Elizabeth, 72, 77Portuguese East Africa, 106, 112, 113, 150Prester, John, 94Pretoria, 47, 76, 90, 93

Rand, The, 84-85, 86, 87, 89, 152, 249Reid, A. E. H. , 245Reid, C. A. , 245Rey, General de la, 25, 45Rhodes, Cecil, 17, 20, 32, 58, 60-61, 77-83, 86, 104-110, 114-121, 125, 129-137, 150, 165, 186, 230Rhodesia, 18, 33, 59, 94, 103-110, 114-121, 122-131Roberts, Lord, 16Robinson, J. B. , 85Robison, J. E. , 256, 258Rondebosch, 32Roos, Tielman, 53-54Roosevelt, Theodore, 19Rudd, C. D. , 107Ryan, Thomas F. , 228, 232-235, 244, 275

Sabin, Charles H. , 74Sakania, 144Sanford, General H. S. , 227, 228Selous, F. C. , 111Seymour, Louis, 86Shaler, Millard K. , 245Smartt, Sir Thomas, 52Smith, Hamilton, 86Smuts, Jan Christian, 15-20, 23, 24-26, 28, 29-56, 98Snow, Frederick, 149Société Generale, 234-236, 239Solvay, Edmond, 244Soudan Railway, 60Stanley, Henry M. , 159, 166, 170, 177, 183, 184, 185-188, 194, 196, 201, 203, 217, 218-221, 227, 228, 230, 255, 262Stanley Pool, 218, 222, 279Stanleyville, 59, 162, 166, 168, 169, 175, 177-180, 183, 185, 189, 190, 196, 200Steyne, President, 49Stoddard, Lothrop, 96Stonelake, Dr. , 202

Tambeur, General, 165Tanganyika Lake, 60, 142, 150, 166, 169Teneriffe, 69Thompson, F. R. , 107Thompson, Samuel, 86Thompson, W. B. , 74Thys, General Albert, 279, 280Tippo Tib, 166, 184-185Togoland, 100-101"Tony", 133Transvaal, 21, 23, 50, 106Tshikapa, 247, 256, 259, 262, 263, 264, 265, 267, 275, 282

Uganda, 59Union of South Africa, 18, 20, 23

Van den Hove, Adrian M. , 251-252Venezilos, 15Verner, S. P. , 244Victoria Falls, 104, 127, 130-132Vryburg, 119

Wallace, Major Claude, 212, 213, 214Wallace, Mrs. Claude, 212Wangermee, General Emile, 148Wankie, 128Ward, Herbert, 184-188, 203Warriner, Ruel C. , 86Webb, H. H. , 86Webber, George, 86Wheeler, A. E. , 149Whitney, Harry Payne, 235Williams, Gardner F. , 82, 88Williams, Robert, 61, 146, 150, 151, 175Wilson, Woodrow, 37, 40, 42, 43, 50Wissmann, Herman, 255

Yale, Thomas, 149Yeatman, Pope, 86

Zambesi River, 18, 109, 131-132Zambesia, 108Zimbabwe Ruins, 130Zulu, 64, 71, 82, 92, 93, 266

 *Transcriber's notes:*

 Typos replaced:

 Pg 26: separate streams → separate streams" Pg 38: Africa. --the → Africa, --the Pg 40: betwen → between Pg 49: man con → man can Pg 51: betwen → between Pg 52: Britian → Britain Pg 56: 'The destiny → "The destiny Pg 56: Britian → Britain Pg 57: n the world → in the world Pg 59: beteween → between Pg 72: It no → It is no Pg 73: a quarter or → a quarter of Pg 73: reoganization → reorganization Pg 82: speriority → superiority Pg 89: Eeast → East Pg 89: stragetic → strategic Pg 100: auother → another Pg 101: Belian → Belgian Pg 103: III → CHAPTER III Pg 103: 'We've → "We've Pg 110: irrenconcilable → irreconcilable Pg 124: considering, Every → considering. Every Pg 124: stock, The → stock. The Pg 131: maximun → maximum Pg 132: marval → marvel Pg 139: IV → CHAPTER IV Pg 139: controversay → controversy Pg 152: developent → development Pg 163: invarably → invariably Pg 163: conspicious → conspicuous Pg 166: rail-dead → rail-head Pg 169: distaseful → distasteful Pg 174: Rockerfeller → Rockefeller Pg 177: V → CHAPTER V Pg 182: Adthough → Although Pg 184: invaribly → invariably Pg 184: cruelity → cruelty Pg 186: exporations → exploration Pg 187: capured → captured Pg 190: removed whole line "from his automobile and the creaky, jolty train started" from between "that you" and "feel on" Pg 191: sacrified → sacrificed Pg 193: Uguanda → Uganda Pg 195: resplendant → resplendent Pg 201: high sease → high seas Pg 210: incased → encased Pg 214: unforgetable → unforgettable Pg 219: arival → arrival Pg 222: Begian → Belgian Pg 225: VI → CHAPTER VI Pg 226: Transporte → Transports Pg 241: Forminere → Forminiere Pg 243: Banqe → Banque Pg 249: chololate-hued → chocolate-hued Pg 255: heirarchy → hierarchy Pg 255: Wissman → Wissmann Pg 258: Fir → For Pg 270: that → than Pg 283: that → than Pg 285: 194 → 194, Pg 286: 85' → 85, Pg 287: Societe → Société Pg 288: Wissman → Wissmann

 No attempt was made to harmonise inconsistent hyphenation; e. G. Both spellings _bed-room_ and _bedroom_ can be found in this book.