o at once. And no one--no one,
mind--must know of this."

"No one shall know of it," he answered.

CHAPTER X. LOANGO

Faithful and hopeful, wise in charity,
Strong in grave peace, in pity circumspect.

Those who for their sins have been to Loango will scarcely care to have
its beauties recalled to memory. And to such as have not yet visited the
spot one can only earnestly recommend a careful avoidance.

Suffice it to say, therefore, that there is such a place, and the
curious may find it marked in larger type than it deserves on the map of
Africa, on the West Coast of that country, and within an inch or so of
the Equator.

Loango has a bar, and outside of that mysterious and somewhat suggestive
nautical hindrance the coasting steamers anchor, while the smaller local
fry find harbour nearer to the land. The passenger is not recommended
to go ashore--indeed, many difficulties are placed in his way, and he
usually stays on board while the steamer receives or discharges a scanty
cargo, rolling ceaselessly in the Atlantic swell. The roar of the surf
may be heard, and at times some weird cry or song. There is nothing to
tempt even the most adventurous through that surf. A moderately large
white building attracts the eye, and usually brings upon itself a
contemptuous stare, for it seems to be the town of Loango, marked so
bravely on the map. As a matter of fact the town is five miles inland,
and the white building is only a factory or trading establishment.

Loango is the reverse of cheerful. To begin with, it is usually raining
there. The roar of the surf--than which there are few sadder sounds on
earth--fills the atmosphere with a never-ceasing melancholy. The country
is overwooded; the tropical vegetation, the huge tangled African trees,
stand almost in the surf; and inland the red serrated hills mount
guard in gloomy array. For Europeans this country is accursed. From
the mysterious forest-land there creeps down a subtle, tainted air that
poisons the white man's blood, and either strikes him down in a fever
or terrifies him by strange unknown symptoms and sudden disfiguring
disease. The Almighty speaks very plainly sometimes and in some
places--nowhere more plainly than on the West Coast of Africa, which
land He evidently wants for the black man. We of the fairer skin have
Australia now; we are taking America, we are dominant in Asia; but
somehow we don't get on in Africa. The Umpire is there, and