CONGO RIVER — March 1, 1907.
[DEAR MOTHER:]
I have been up the Congo as far as the Kasai river, and
up that to a place called Dima. There I found myself in a
sort of cul de sac. I found that the rubber plantations I had
come to see, were nine days journey distant. In this land
where time and distance are so differently regarded than with
us, a man tells you to go to Dima to see rubber. He means
after getting to Dima, you must catch a steamer that leaves
every two weeks and travel for five days. But he forgets that
that fact is important to visitors. As he is under contract
to stay here three years, it does not much matter to him how
he spends a month, or so. Dima was two hundred yards square,
and then the jungle. In half an hour, I saw it all, and met
every one in it. They gave me a grand reception, but I could
not spend ten days in Dima. The only other thing I could do
was to take a canoe to the Jesuit Mission where the Fathers
promised me shooting, or, try to catch the boat back to
England that stops at interesting ports. Sooner than stop in
Boma, I urged Cecil to take that boat. So, if I catch it, we
will return together. It is a five weeks journey, and rather
long to spend alone. In any event my letters will go by a
faster boat. I have had a most wonderfully interesting visit,
at least, to me. I hope I can make it readable. But, much of
its pleasure was personal.
I have just had to stop writing this, for what when I get
back to New York will seem a perfectly good reason for
interrupting a letter to even you. A large hippopotamus has
just pushed past us with five baby hippos in front of her.
She is shoving them up stream, and the papa hippo is in the
wake puffing and blowing. They are very plenty here and on
the way up stream, I saw a great many, and every morning and
evening went hunting for them on shore. I wanted the head of
a hippopotamus awfully keenly for the farm. But of the only
two I saw on land, both got away from me. I did not shoot at
any I saw in the water, although the other idiot on board did,
because if you kill them, you cannot recover them, and it
seems most unsportsmanlike. Besides, I was so grateful to
them for being so proud and pompous, and real aristocrats
dating back from the flood. But I was
terribly disappointed at losing both of those I saw on land.
One I dropped at the first shot, and the other I missed, as he
was running, to get back into the water. The one I shot, and
that everyone thought was dead,
after the "boys" began to cut
him up, decided he was not going to stand for that, and to
our helpless dismay suddenly rolled himself into the water.
If that is not hard luck, I don't know it. All I got was a
bad photograph of him, and I had already decided where I would
hang his head, and how much I would tip the crew for cutting
him up. It was a really wonderful journey. I loved every
minute of it and never was I in better health.
If I only could have known that you knew that I was all
right, but instead you were worrying. The nights were bright
moonlight, and the days were beautiful; full of strange people
and animals, birds and views. We three sat in the little
bridge of the tinpot boat, and smoked pipes and watched the
great muddy river rushing between wonderful banks. There was
the Danish Captain, an Italian officer and the engineer was
from Finland. The Italian spoke French and the two others
English, and I acted as interpreter!! Can you imagine it? I
am now really a daring French linguist. People who understand
me, get quick promotion. If I only could have been able to
tell you all was well and not to be worried. At Kwarmouth I
have just received a wire from Cecil saying she expects to
leave by the slow boat but will stay if I wish it. So, now we
can both go by the slow boat if I can catch it. I hope so.
She must have found Boma as bad as it looked. God bless you
all.
DICK.
On April 13, Richard was back in London and in his diary
of that date he writes, "Never so glad to get anywhere. Went
to sleep to the music of motorcars. Nothing ever made me feel
so content and comfortable and secure as their `honk, honk.'"
