MATADI — Feby. 21.
We are now at Matadi. The Captain invited us to stop on
board and it is well he did. We dine on deck where the wind
blows but the rest of the ship is being cleaned and painted
for the trip North. Four hatches are discharging cargo all at
once, from four in the morning until midnight. Officers and
kroo boys get four hours sleep out of the twenty-four, but I
sleep right through it, so does Cecil. Sometimes they take
out iron rails and then zinc roofs and steel boats, 6000 cases
of gin and 1000 tons of coal. Still, it is much better than
in the Hotel Africa on shore. Matadi is a hill of red iron
and the heat is grand. Everything in this country is grand.
The river is, in places, seven miles wide, the sunsets are
like nothing earthly, and the black people are like brooding
shadows of lost souls, that is, if souls have shadows. Most
of the
blacks in this town are "prisoners" with a steel ring around
the neck, and chained in long lines. I leave on the 23d to go
up the Kasai River, because that is where the atrocities come
from and up there there are many missionaries. I don't want
you to think I say this to "calm your fears," but I say it
because it is as true of this place as of every other one in
the world, and that is, that it is as easy to get about here
as it is in Rhode Island. It is not half as dangerous as
automobiling. I have not even felt feverish, neither has
Cecil. I never felt better. Cecil stays on board and goes
back to Boma. There she stops a week and then takes another
ship back to London. She will not wait at Boma for me, at
least, I hope not and cannot imagine her doing so. In any
event, after I start, there will be no way for us to
communicate, and I will act on the understanding that she has
started North.
I have two very good boys and both speak English, and are
from Sierra Leone. I take a two-day trip of 200 miles by
rail, then four days by boat up the Kasai and then I may come
back by boat or walk. It depends on how I like it, how long I
stay, for I can hope to see very little, as under a year it
would be impossible to write with authority of this country.
But I'll see more of it than some at home, and I'll hear what
those who have lived here for years have to say. It is
awfully interesting, absolutely different and more uncivilized
than anything I ever saw. But all the time you are depressed
with how little you know and can know of it. I will be here
six weeks or two months and then should get up the coast to
London about the middle of May or sooner.
DICK.
From diary of February 22nd, 1907.
Spent about the worst night of my life. No mattress, no
pillow. Not space enough for my own cot. Every insect in the
world ate me. After a bath and coffee felt better. It rained
heavily until three P. M. Read Pendennis, and loved it. The
picture of life at Clavering and Fairoaks, and Dr. Portman and
Foker are wonderful. I do not know when I have enjoyed and
admired a work so much. For some reason it is all entirely
new again. I will read them all now in turn. After rain
cleared took my slaves and went after "supplies." Met a King.
I thought he was a witch doctor, and the boys said he was a
dancing man. All his suite, wives and subjects followed,
singing a song that made your flesh creep. At Hatton and
Cookson's bought "plenty chop" for "boys" who were much
pleased. Also a sparklet bottle, some whiskey and two pints
of champagne at 7 francs the pint. Blush to own it was demi
Sec. Also bacon, jam, milk, envelopes, a pillow. Saw some
ivory State had seized and returned. 15 Kilo's. Some taken
from Gomez across street not returned until he gave up half.
No reason given Taylor agent H. & C. why returned Apparently
when called will come down on the ivory question. Cuthbert
Malet, coffee planter, came call on me. Only Englishman still
in Service State. Had much to say which did not want printed
until he out of country which will be in month or two.
Anstrossi has given me side of cabin where there is room for
my cot, so expect to sleep.
