IO 
Le Plateau , 
a scattered look about the metropolis of the 
“ Gabon,” which numbers one foot of house to a 
thousand of “ compound.” 
Suddenly a bonnet like a pair of white gulls’ 
wings and a blue serge gown fled from us, despite 
the weight of years, like a young gazelle ; the 
wearer was a sister of charity, one of five bonnes 
scours. Their bungalow is roomy and comfortable, 
near a little chapel and a largish school, whence 
issue towards sunset the well-known sounds of the 
Angelus. At some distance down stream and on 
the right or northern bank lies a convent, and a 
house superintended by the original establisher of 
the mission in 1844, the bishop, Mgr. Bessieux, 
who died in 1872, aged 70. There are extensive 
plantations, but the people are too lazy to take 
example from them. 
Before we hear the loud cry a table , we may 
shortly describe the civilized career of the Gaboon. 
In 1842, when French and English rivalry, burn¬ 
ing hot on both sides of the Channel, extended 
deep into the tropics and spurned the equator, 
and when every naval officer, high and low, went 
mad about concluding treaties and conquering 
territory on paper, France was persuaded to set 
up a naval station in Gorilla-land. The northern 
and the southern shore each had a king, whose 
consent, after a careless fashion, was considered 
decorous. His Majesty of the North was old King 
