way
already two or three hours late. At length at 6 p.m., Zinga is reached,
a large village with a fine plantation, and here we camp.

Just above the village the rapids are so strong that it is dangerous to
take the canoes up charged, and it is necessary to carry all the baggage
for about three miles across country until smooth water is reached
again. The capitas wished to attempt the ascent with the canoes full,
for the native dislikes carrying, more than anything else. We explain
that if it is necessary for the white men, who can swim, to walk, how
much more necessary is it to carry the baggage, which would at once sink
if the canoes capsized. However, this did not convince them and
Europeans who have had accidents on the river say, that although the
whole crew, who all swim like fishes, go to the assistance of the white
man when a canoe capsizes, not one will take the trouble to rescue the
baggage. Probably the native, whose personal property is limited to a
loin cloth, thinks all other possessions are useless vanities and not
worth troubling about. The view here is very beautiful, the river taking
a double bend between hills which are well wooded and traversed by
mountain torrents of clear water hastening to join the main stream
roaring in its rocky bed below. Numerous pintades are usually found
here, the finest game bird for eating in the whole of Africa, and I go
ahead of the bearers to search for them, but see nothing of interest.

[Illustration: THE STATE POST AT DJABIR.]

By 8 a.m. the canoes have all passed the rapids, and are charged again,
so once more we make a start. Soon another rapid is reached which it is
impossible to negotiate with the paddles. Some of the crew therefore, go
overboard and standing on the rocks up to their waists in water,
literally lift the boat up foot by foot until the top is reached.
After this the river widens again and the current is not so strong. One
of the canoes is now reserved as a kitchen and carries the goats,
chickens and other food. It is interesting to watch Luembo sitting
smoking his pipe over the fire as he cooks the lunch. Nothing disturbs
his calm serenity and he goes on philosophically making soup even in the
roughest water. When lunch is ready we stop by the bank, the kitchen
comes alongside and the hot, strong soup is very acceptable, for it is
impossible to eat much in the heat of the day.

At night time we decide to stop at the mouth of the Koto river, wher