HEART OF THE CONGO 361 



Among the things that the traveler in this part of 

 Africa will never forget are the tiny gnats and sand 

 flies that pester you night and day, leaving white 

 blisters that itch for hours. Instead of enjoying a 

 refreshing sleep, the nights are spent in scratching 

 bites and fighting mosquitoes. During the daytime 

 we would forget these annoyances while speeding among 

 the ferns which filled the spaces beneath towering 

 trees that hemmed in the narrow roadway. We 

 journeyed through the cool, unending forest, where 

 the songs of birds, the call of monkeys, the lazy drone 

 of insects, and the multitudes of brightly colored 

 butterflies added color and sound to the allurement of 

 a pristine paradise. 



The Belgian Congo is forty-four times as large as 

 the motherland and is rich in natural resources. I 

 found her transplanted sons to be industrious, but 

 working under serious handicaps. There is a lack of 

 sufficient capital and also a shortsighted policy which 

 discourages development by foreign nationals. 



Upon arrival at Api, we found conditions to be much 

 the same as those at Wanda. The wild elephants were 

 two days* foot safari away, and there were no porters 

 to carry our equipment. Regardless of this situation, 

 I decided to try for elephant pictures in this district, 

 so camp was made. Now Jones became seriously ill, 

 the symptoms indicating sleeping sickness, making it 

 necessary that I drive one hundred seventeen miles to 

 the mission station at Buta, where I placed him under 

 the care of the Sisters. 



After arranging things for Jones, I made a tour around 

 the town, which I found to be quite an unusual place. 

 While stopped in front of a store, a young Belgian came 



