dancing corps of copper-breasted braves; tbe right
bank, as well as tbe left bank, salute us with these
exhibitions. There is a mile long stretch of butted
bank, followed by about two miles long of forest; then
a similar village, followed by a similar forest, and over
tbe villages are ¿be bananas, seen to wave softly, with
the darker palms nodding in harmony, while the white
sun shines steadily over all. At noon we are 0° 6' S.
Lat. The day before we were in 0° 4' 1ST. Lat., and in
this interval of time we had crossed the Equator twice.
The Black River, from bank to bank, was 400 yards
in width, with a 2 | knot current; the depth, by continuous
trial with sounding pole, was unknown. Tiny
hills began to appear to relieve the monotony of the
level. At about the eightieth mile from the confluence
we slackened speed, and tried to open a conversation
with the people of a pleasant-looking village. A
few of the: principal men advanced firmly to the edge of
the river bank, and one spoke tmhesitatingly thus :—*
“ We do not know who you are, or whence you
came, or whither you go, or what is your intent. If
you come near ’enough to the shore we will begin
fighting. If you wish to go on—go. If you wish to
return, the river is free, but touch not the land.”
Was there ever such candour, so beautifully and
clearly expressed, or was it the guide’s way of
speaking ?
We returned the way we came, our departure being
accompanied by a shower of sticks, clods, stones, &c.,
which, however, did not approach within 200 yards of
our steamer. I t is probably in this way these equa- 1883.
torial people express their farewell! wangata.
At 8 p.m. we reached the camp we had left in the
morning, and arrived at noon the next day at the
A NATIVE ISSUING TO THE WAR.
June 12.
junction of the Mohindu, or Black River, with the
[Congo.
At Wangata, seven miles below, ’ commanding a
¡view of the junction of three channels—the right
going up to Bungata, the-middle leading to the Ikel-
emba and the Lulungu rivers, the left leading to the