The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-08-22

IL WAS ike assisting al SOME huge AliiCaH
fair. Two hundred and eighty Zanzibarris
had arrived the day before, in addi-
ton to those that were already
at the station, and then there were "Kru-
boys" "Cabindas," and many of the natives
from the vicinity; for in addition to the al
ready numerous arrivals several important
chiefs, with their crowds of followers, had
come to hold a palaver of honor, a sort of
afternoon call, on "Bule Matade," to well
come him back to his work on the Congo. L
was glad to seek shelter from the hot sun,
the restless throng of people and the babel
of tongues, under the cool veranda OF the
central house, and here the chief OF the sta
ton sent word that he would be with me di-
rectly the palaver was finished.
While waiting a 1.-the looking young man,
dressed in a suit of Indian flannel, whose
handsome features seemed incongruous with
his dark-brown skin; passed by me with a
little tea tray and its grateful accessories. 1t
was Dualla, SANKEY'S factotum and major
domo; but l did not kno this at the time.
and rather looked after the disappearing
tea with a longing thirst, remaining lost in a
wistful reverie, when a voice at my elbow
said in English, How do you do?" | looked
up to see the kindly face of Lieutenant Van
develd, the chief of Vivi, who at the very
first sight seemed a sympathetic host, and
one who would greatly temper the effect OF
any impatient greeting or the great explor-
er's part. A few steps with Nandeveld out
into the open, where a great circle OF grim
ming kinglets was squatting. and / stood face
to face with Stanley, who neither proffered
any abrupt questions as to my identity or
my attentions, nor turned on his heel, nor
even waited for a formal Introduction, but
led me to a chair, gave me a cup of tea and
commenced at once such a kindly, genial
conversation that l quite forgot my previous
apprehensions, and ceased altogether TO
watch for the moment when he should turn
on his heel' as a signal that the interview
was over.
To describe one of Mr.. SANKEY'S stations is
no very satisfactory task, for by the time
your description is printed and published
the place may be utterly transformed, and,
indeed, so quickly do things march now on
the Congo that Vivi, the most stable of all
the establishments, is probably no longer as
| knew it. However, in the month of May
last this was more or less the arrangement of
the buildings: On the summit, and near the
riverward edge of the cliff, is a fiat and level
platform, nearly artificial. and about eighty
feet square. Here are placed several import
ant houses. The principal one contains an
upper story, with Mr.. Stanley's bedroom,
and on the ground floor a large s%itting-room,
surrounded by amply-flled book-shelves;
the doctors room and laboratory, the bed
room of the second in command, a store, }"
an office or bureau and a gun-room. This
house is going to be removed, as it is very
hot and badly adapted for the climate; the
double walls do not seem to render it
much cooler, and, moreover, have be-
come the home OF a colony of abominable
little bats, whose squeaking, both at down
and sunset, is most fidgety. Perhaps, how
ever, on account of the bats, mosquitoes are
almost absent at Vivi, a great and apprecia-
BILE relief to those who suffer from their
venomous bites. The opposite building to
"Stanley's house" is a large sort of one
stored barrack, containing a number of bed
rooms for the white residents, and a large
dining-room open on three sides to the air.
There are also on this upper plateau, which
may be called the fashionable part of Vivi,
an observatory, a shower bath, a pigeon
house, and the usual domestic offices. From
the yeranda that runs along the shady side
of SANKEY'S house a most beautiful view of
the Lower Congo, with it's woody islands, its
swirling rapids and noble downs, may be
obtained. Here, also, are placed many COM
Portable seats and chairs, and in the warm
afternoon hours it is pleasant to rest here,
half dreamily, with a nice book from the
well-furnished library, and let ones eyes
wander from its pages to the sun-steeped
landscape below the hill.
LIFE AT THE STATION.
What did you eat at Vivi?" people
anxiously inquire, especially people who
think of "trying the Congo" 1t is a most
important question, and | will try to answer
it as fully as possible. Perhaps, to redeem
the grossness of the subject, l might describe
how we passed the day in Vivi, and then the
meals will CONF naturally into the descrip-
ton. In the early morning-I shall give my
own experiences, presuming them to have
been much the same as other people's-in
the early morning, about six, my Zanzibar
servant would come to the door with a little
tray of coffee, Swiss milk, sardines, ham,
| fanHt1a n - cOpNa .troh Gfinnall' YNAof Ara,l
and butter-tinned butter, of course-and
marmalade. Having a hearty appetite, l par
took pretty well of this small meal, and en-
joyed it the more as l was in very light at
tire and had round my room about a hun-
bred books to choose from. After eating
and reading | would go down
10 the shower bath, just outside the
house, and refresh myself with a good
douche, then dress and take a walk to
botanic or sketch. At noon we ali met at
breakfast, which was laid on the long table
in the nearly open-air dining-rOom | have
already mentioned. This meal generally be-
gan with soup, and then there would follow
roast meet and boiled-the flesh of sheep,
goat, pig or an occasional antelope; chicken,
cooked i'll different ways, curry. and all the
most dazzling show that timed meats could
offer-not very brilliant or toothsome these
latter, it must be owned, and l myself al
ways preferred plain roast goat. however
tough, to the insipid contents of tin, not
outstanding the attractive title it might
bear in the menu. Lisbon wine and Bor-
deaux were always on the table, and occa-
sionally beer. Breakfast wound up with
coffee and biscuits, and, the meal finished,
everyone separated to pass away the hot
hours of the day either in siesta or reading
beneath the cool veranda. This was the
silenthour, when scarcely even a Zanzibar was
seen stirring, and when the European per-
spired TRANQUILITY in pyjamas.
About 4 afternoon tea was brought, or af-
ternoon coffee, or chocolate; as you prefer it.
1t was generally made separately for YOU by
your own 'boy," and either drunk in ones
s..n ~ - aniauaa nraid a .ra.r Af -.