these canoes will carry.

Soon after starting we pass the Catholic Mission on the French bank and
immediately begin to fight a rapid. The paddlers strain every muscle,
the pole men push with all their strength against rocks and tree trunks
and the soldiers help by pulling on branches of trees or anything else
which is fixed. The water whirls past as we creep up inch by inch. At
one moment gaining, at another losing, the excitement being intense, for
if once we are conquered by the stream, the canoe will probably be
broken to pieces on the rocks. At times some of the crew jump out and
clinging with their feet to the rocks, while up to their middle in the
torrent, push the boat up with all their strength. At length smooth
water is reached and on we go quietly for an hour or two, when another
rapid is reached and the struggle commences again. The work is intensely
hard and dangerous, but the Sangos are expert boatmen and seem anxious
to finish their task as soon as possible. In rough water or smooth, the
crews race along, singing, shouting and encouraging each other to make
one more effort. After an exciting and tiring day we reach a village and
having seen the crews rationed, pitch our tents.

On again at 6.30. a.m. in a heavy river mist which however, is soon
dispersed as the sun rises. The rapids, which at first had the
excitement of novelty, began to pall for it was tiresome not being able
to read or sleep without being disturbed by the possibility of a bath in
a current running, at the rate of perhaps fifteen miles an hour, between
rocks. Towards sunset we reach the site of Bokanda, a village now
deserted, for some years ago the Chief with his people migrated across
the river to the French side. We decide therefore, to sleep in the new
village and proceed to cross, but are still in mid stream when we see
the majority of the people running away into the forest behind, the
women gathering up their children and household utensils, while the men
followed more leisurely. The Chief however, and a few braves appear on
the beach with guns and for a moment it looks as though they mean
mischief. They evidently however think better of it, for we land
unmolested and send interpreters to say we are hunters and only desire a
place for our camp and food for our men. The Chief at once advances and
gives us chickens and eggs while the soldiers pitch the tents in the
square of the village.

On again at daybreak, the journey being st