Boloho.
limited that we are obliged to sit down or stand up
all the long way. The eyes, the only organs exercised,
are easily sated. The weariness is only created by
our compulsory inactivity. Our eyes are feasting continually
upon petty details, of the nature of which we
are scarcely conscious. The flitting of a tiny sun-bird,
the chirping weavers at their nests; the despondent
droop of a long calamus which cannot find support,
and which, like the woodbine, flourishes best when it
has a tall stem to cling to ; the bamboo-like reeds ; the
swaying-tufted head of an overgrown papyrus; the
floating by of a Pistia stratiotes; a flock of screeching
parrots hurrying by overhead; that great yawning
hippopotamus lazily preparing for a plunge into his
watery bed; that log-like form of the crocodile, roused
from his meditations, loth to go, but compelled by the
whirr of paddle-wheels to submerge himself; those
springing monkeys, skurrying in their leafy homes
away from the increasing noise ; that white-collared fish
eagle out-spreading his wings for flight; that darting
diver and’ little kingfisher hurrying ahead, heralding
our approach; yonder flock of black ibis alarmingly
screaming their harsh cries; that little blue-throated
fantail which has just hopped away from the yellow-
blossomed acacia bush; those little industrious wagtails
pecking away so briskly on the sandy strip by the edge
of the forest; there is a jay which has just fled into the
woods; look at those long-legged flamingoes at that
spit of land ; and—-but the details are endless, for every
minute of time has its incident. As for your own
TEE MISSISSIPPI AND TEE CONGO. 7
fancies, during this day trance, created mainly by what
you see as the banks glide steadily past, who will
dare to fathom them ? They come in rapid succession
on the mind, in various shapes, rank after rank.
Unsteadfast as the grey clouds which you see to
the westward, they pile into cities, and towns, and
mountains, growing ever larger, more intense, but
still ever wavering and undergoing quick transitions
of form. The flowing river, the vast dome of sky;
the aspiring clouds on the horizon; the purpling
blue, as well as the dark spectral isles of the stream;
the sepulchral gloom beneath the impervious forest
foliage; those swaying reeds; that expanse of sere-
coloured grassy plain; that grey clay bank, speckled
with the red roots of some shrub; that narrow pathway
through the forest—all suggest some new thought,
some fancy which cannot be long pursued, since it
is constantly supplanted by other ideas suggested
by something new, which itself is but a momentary
flash.
But supposing that a steamer similar to those we
have on the Mississippi bore you up the Congo, rushing
up stream at the rate of twelve knots an hour against
the current, while you could travel up and down a long,
broad deck protected by a sun-proof awning, with
luxurious board and lodging at your command, your
view of the Congo would be very different. I do
believe you would express a preference for it to any
river known to you. You would naturally think of
comparisons. The Rhine ? Why the Rhine, even
1883.
May28
Bolobo