The Departure. 2 1 
the wind, with a steady and pertinacious speed, 
showing.that mischief was meant. The “cruel, 
crawling sea ” began to rough, purr, and tumble ; a 
heavy cross swell from the south-west dandled the 
up-torn mangrove twigs, as they floated past us 
down stream, and threatened to swamp the deeply 
laden and cranky old boat, which was far off letter 
A 1 of Lloyd’s. The oarsmen became sulky be¬ 
cause they were not allowed to make sail, which, 
in case of a sudden squall, could not have been 
taken in under half an hour. Patience ! Little 
can be done, on the first day, with these demi- 
semi-Europeanized Africans, except to succeed in 
the inevitable trial of strength. 
The purple sky-ground backing the Gaboon’s 
upper course admirably set off all its features. 
Upon the sea horizon, where the river measures 
some thirty miles across, I could distinctly see the 
junction of the two main branches, the true Olo’ 
Mpongwe,the main stream flowing from the Eastern 
Ghats, and the Rembwe (Ramboue) or south¬ 
eastern influent. At the confluence, tree-dots, 
tipping the watery marge, denoted what Barbot 
calls the “ Pongo Islands.” These are the quoin¬ 
shaped mass “Dambe” (Orleans Island) alias 
“Coniquet” (the Conelet), often corrupted to 
Konikey ; the Konig Island of the old Hollander, 1 
1 Barbot, book iv. chap. 9. 
