ntered neither treachery nor guile, and we floated
down, down, hundreds of miles. The river curved westward, then
south-westward. Ah, straight for the mouth of the Congo. It widened
daily. The channels became numerous."

Through the country of the Bangala they now fought their way. These
people were armed with guns brought up from the coast by native traders.
It was indeed an anxious moment when, with war-drums beating,
sixty-three "beautiful but cruel canoes" came skimming towards
Stanley with some three hundred guns to his forty-four. For nearly
five hours the two fleets fought until the victory rested with the
American. "This," remarks Stanley, "was our thirty-first fight on the
terrible river, and certainly the most determined conflict we had
endured."

They rowed on till the 11th of March; the river had grown narrower
and steep, wooded hills rose on either side above them. Suddenly the
river expanded, and the voyagers entered a wide basin or pool over
thirty square yards. "Sandy islands rose in front of us like a seabeach,
and on the right towered a long row of cliffs white and glistening,
like the cliffs of Dover."

"Why not call it Stanley Pool and those cliffs Dover Cliffs?" suggested
Frank Pocock. And these names may be seen on our maps to-day. Passing
out of the Pool, the roar of a great cataract burst upon their ears.
It was the first of a long series of falls and rapids which continued
for a distance of one hundred and fifty-five miles. To this great
stretch of cataracts and rapids Stanley gave the name of the
"Livingstone Falls." At the fifth cataract Stanley lost his favourite
little native page-boy, Kalulu. The canoe in which he was rowing shot
suddenly over the rapids, and in the furious whirl of rushing waters
poor little Kalulu was drowned. He had been born a prince and given
to Stanley on his first expedition into Africa. Stanley had taken him
to Europe and America, and the boy had repaid his kindness by faithful
and tender devotion till that fatal day, when he went to his death
over the wild Livingstone Falls. Stanley named the rapid after him,
Kalulu Falls.

But a yet more heart-rending loss was in store for him. Progress was
now very slow, for none of the cataracts or rapids could be navigated;
canoes as well as stores had to be dragged over land from point to
point. Frank Pocock had fallen lame and could not walk with the rest.
Although accidents with the canoes were of daily occurrence, alth