> «aa -. a 1 
Bee LF, Sw 
80 A JOURNEY UP THE RIVER CONGO. 
coming civilization would entail. How lovely the. forest 
looked in its virgin state! Man had meddled with it 
just enough to make a decent path, but no more. One 
could look down, down, down through the mazes of green 
leaves and grey boughs at the twinkling water, which 
flowed under the massive trees in a still and quiet back- 
water. It was a beautiful semi-transparent screen between 
me and the ardent sun, who, through the great and 
spreading leaves, sent shafts of hght and glorified whole 
masses of foliage with an aureole of golden green. Up 
above, in the dim purple solitudes of the forest, there were 
mysterious possibilities, an endless field for conjecture and 
for the flight of fancy. What strange creatures might not 
live in its depths? What sylvan tragedies went on there 
at night, when the leopard made his descent on a family 
of monkeys just asleep, and awakened the forest with a 
momentary clamour. Perhaps, here at night you would 
hear the great elephants tearing down saplings and 
feeding themselves with juicy leaves and young shoots, 
At any rate you know the vast green gloom stretches far, 
far away in one direction, and that you will not come — 
suddenly upon a row of villas at the other end. And 
when, satiated and filled with beauty, you do leave the 
wood, it 1s quite comforting to continue your road along a 
plain hillside which calls for no admiration. Beautiful 
scenery 18 as overwhelming sometimes as the society of 
very distinguished people—the incessant admiration it 
calls for is fatiguing. We crossed a pretty little river, 
and camped out that night on the rising-ground above it. 
Everybody seemed contented and satisfied. I had a 
well-cooked dinner, and sat long afterwards looking at 
the southern constellations and the crescent moon. The 
men chatted and sang round their fires in a happy state 
of fulness, and I went to sleep that night convinced that 
all the disagreeables of the journey were over, and that 
to-morrow morning would see me comfortably settled at 
Isangila. But on the morrow, alas! the sky was lowering, 
and soon after our departure the rain began. All the 
pathways were turned into rushing brooks of red water ; 
