CHAPTER III.
The struggle with the river renewed— Passing the “Father”
—In the “ Cauldron ” --Poor Kalulu!—Soudi’s strange adventures—
Our system of progress—At the “ Whirlpool Narrows”—
Lady Alice Rapids—Our escape from death—Four
cataracts in view of us— Thieves amongst us—Tuckey’s
Cataract ever receding — The Inkisi Falls — The canoes
dragged over the mountain—Trade along the Livingstone
—Ulcers and entozoa—An artful compound.
(March 15—April 28, 1877.)
T he wide wild land which, by means of the
greatest river of Africa, we have pierced, is now
about to be presented in a milder aspect than
that which has filled the preceding pages with
records of desperate conflicts and furious on-
slaughts of savage men. The people no longer
resist our advance. Trade has tamed their natural
ferocity, until they no longer resent our approach
with the fury of beasts of prey.
It is the dread river itself of which we shall
have now to complain. It is no longer the
stately stream whose mystic beauty, noble
grandeur, and gentle uninterrupted flow along a
course of nearly nine hundred miles, ever fascinated
us, despite the savagery of its peopled
shores, but a furious river rushing down a steep
, March 15, 1877- I OUR STRUGGLE WITH THE RIVER. 67 [Gordon-Bennett R.J
bed obstructed by reefs of lava, projected barriers
of rock, lines of immense boulders, winding
in crooked course through deep chasms,
and dropping down over terraces in a long series
of falls, cataracts, and rapids. Our frequent
contests with the savages culminated in tragic
struggles with the mighty river as it rushed and
roared through the deep, yawning pass that
leads from the broad table-land down to the
Atlantic Ocean.
Those voiceless'and lone streams meandering
between the thousand isles of the Livingstone;
those and silent wildernesses of water over
which we had poured our griefs and wailed in
our sorrow; those woody solitudes where nightly
we had sought to soothe our fevered brows,
into whose depths we breathed our vows; that
sea-like amplitude of water which had proved
our refuge in distress, weird in its stillness, and
solemn in its mystery, are now exchanged for
the cliff-lined gorge, through which with inconceivable
fury the Livingstone sweeps with foam?
ing billows into the broad Congo, which, at a
distance of only x 55 geographical miles, is nearly
1100 feet below the summit of the first fall.
On the 16th March, having explored as far
as the Gordon-Bennett River, and obtained a
clear idea of our situation during the 15th, we
began our labours with energy. Goods, asses»
women, and children, with the guard under Prank,