358 AFRICA SPEAKS 



There was a boom going on in one district, and along 

 our route for miles the natives were clearing the forest 

 and building new huts. I wondered what price business 

 sites were bringing at the corner of Elephant Trail 

 Avenue and Leopard Path Boulevard and how many 

 centuries would have to come and go before the streets 

 would be paved I 



Immediately after passing one of these new country 

 homes, something leaped from the tall grass into the 

 jungle road. As it ran down the path in front of me, 

 I recognized it to be one of the rarest of animaJs, a 

 black leopard. Before I could get a rifle to my shoulder 

 the cat jumped back into the dense fifteen-foot-high 

 grass, where it was hopeless to follow. 



The Belgians have instilled respect for the white 

 race into the black men of the Congo. As we sped by 

 natives walking on the road, they would stand to atten- 

 tion and salute. I shaJl never forget the grotesque 

 figure of one old man with an ancient musket. This 

 gray-headed giant was clothed in tatters and wore a 

 forlorn hat that must have been as aged as the muzzle- 

 loader which he carried. When the truck approached, 

 he wheeled around and presented arms in the most 

 approved fashion, the combination of man, clothes, 

 and musket making a pathetic but ludicrous picture. 



The sound of the approaching trucks brought men, 

 women, and children running to the road from all direc- 

 tions. Then they would line up to salute as the motors 

 went roaring by. We were continually crossing rivers, 

 none of the larger streams being bridged. At some of 

 them we found native ferries, but as we penetrated 

 farther into the country our difficulties in travehng 

 steadily increased. 



