156 A JOURNEY UP THE RIVER OONGO. 
We advanced but little to-day beyond the Kwa _ for 
continuing to feel poorly, I stopped the boat at noon and 
had my tent put up on the eastern shore, so that I might 
go to bed and get rid of the fever. We were here nearly 
opposite to the embouchure of some large river flowing 
in on the western bank of the Congo.* The country is so 
populous hereabouts that it is impossible to camp any- 
where without being near a village, consequently we were — 
soon surrounded by “crowds of noisy though good-tempered 
natives. I noticed this afternoon among the people that 
came to look at me a curious type, quite different from — 
the rezt, a small youth (or a young man?) with rather 
long, curly, and yellowish hair, arranged on his scalp in 
separate tufts, floconné, as the French would call it, having, 
moreover, a savage and wild expression on his features 
and a general tournwre of body recalling the bushmen ~ 
whom I have seen in South-Western Africa. Curiously 
enough, there was an old woman,-also with yellowish hair, 
and stunted in form, in the last village we passed. 
“Yellowish” is perhaps not quiteaccurate enough. I might 
rather say a dirty dun-colour like the skins of these queer 
beings. I made inquiries through the Zanzibaris as to 
who they were in each village, but beyond learning that 
they were slaves and came from the East; I ascertained 
nothing further, nor could I find out whether they belonged 
to a tribe of dwarfs or not. The little boy with his bow 
and arrows and his savage face and gestures was a strange 
and striking type, utterly different to the grinning, sood- 
tempered children round him, who, by contrast, appeared 
quite black, so pale in colour was his skin. 
* De Brazza’s Alima. ‘The “ Lawson” River of Stanley. 
