The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1890-05-23
THE TROPIC FOREST.
Stanley's March Through the
African Conservatory.
TREES. NOTHING BUT TREES
Warn vspsrs From tAe seil aad inter-
weeds Whers Rails The Csnxo.


Of H. n. Stanley q the reception rendered
By the Emin Relief committee in London,
giving m account OF his terrible journey
through the heart Of tropical forest:
Day after dan week after week. from
dawn Of morning TO near ere. with . noon
interval Of rest, We are urged on unrest
ingiy. Step by step We gain our miles and
penetrate deeper and deeper into that
strange conservatory of nature, the inner
womb of true tropical forest. The warm
vapors arise from it as from . great
fermenting vat, until so dense are
the Civilizations in . few days that
only the flaming bolt can let in the
sunlight on that impervious and end
less foliage above our heads After .
months unbroken march We halt for rest.
and for the first time attempt to question
natives, who have hitherto artfully eluded
chr efforts TO gain intelligence We ask
/hem il they know OF any grass land lying
Feast, north or south of their district. and
they reply in the negative in q manner
that seems to imply that We must be
strange creatures to suppose that 1t would
be possible for any world to exist save this
illimitable forest world. Taking grass
blade from the river bank--for only few
struggling blades can be found--we hold it up
70 view. What, no fieid--no limited stretch
of land with something like this growing?"
No, they reply, shaking their heads COM
passionately plying our absurd questions.
'AiI like this. " and they wave their hands
sweepingiy to illustrate that Ill the world
was alike, nothing but trees, trees and
treesp Great trees, rising as arrows shot
toward the sky, uniting their crowns, in
teriacing their branches. pressing and
crowded one against another until neither
sunbeam nor shaft of light may pene-
trate it.
No sooner are these words heard by our
men than their imaginations conceive the
forest under the most oppressive and for
bidding aspect. Hitherto it had been .
tract of land of uncertain extent, growing
trees, which few weeks march would en-
able us to pierce through, mere pleasant
variation in the experiences Of an African
journey maker; but . month had already
elapsed, and they now heard with their
own ears that the forest was without end.
The little religion they knew was nothing
more than legendary lore. and in their
memories there dimly foated story Of q
land that grew darker and darker as you
travelled towards the end of the world. and
drew nearer to the place where great SER
pent lay supine and cooled round the whole
earth. All, then. the ancients must have
referred to this, where the light Is so
CHASTITY, where the woods are endless, and
are so still and solemn and gray. to this
oppressive loneliness, amid 80 much lie,
which is 50 chilling to the poor distressed
heart! And the horror grows darker with
their fancies. the cold Of early morning.
the comfortless gray Of the dawn. the dead
white mist. the overlapping tears Of the
dew, theeluging rains. the appall-
ing thunder-bursts and the rolling echoes,
and the wonderful play of the dazzling light
ming. And when the night comes with its
thick palpabls darkness, and they lie
cuddled in their little damp huts, and
they hear the tempest overhead, the
bowling Of the wild winds. the grind
ing and groaning Of storm-tossed trees,
the dread sounds Of falling giants. and the
shock of the trembling earth, which sends
their hearts with ftful leaps to their
throats, and . roaring and rushing as of
. mad, overwhelming sea-ohl then the
horror is intensified.
they hear the shrill sounds Of the whistle
dawn, and the blare Of the trumpet is
heard, and there is stir and tumult OF pre-
paration, and action. that the morbid
thoughts of the night and memories Of
terrible dreams will be effaced for . time;
but when the march has begun once again.
and the files are slowly moving through
the woods, they renew their morbid brood
ings, and ask themselves, How long is
u ~ IL A.
Must We jog on day after day in this
cherries gloom and this joyiess duskiness,
until we stagger and fall, and rot among
the toads'" Then they disappear into the
woods by twos and threes and skies, and
after the caravan has passed return By the
trail. some to reach Yambuya and upset
the young officers by their tales of woe and
war, some 10 fall sobbing under spear
thrust, some to wander and stray in the
dark mazes of the woods hopelessIy lost,
and some to be carved for the cannibal
feast And those who remain. compelled to
it by fears of greater dangers, mechanically
march on prey to dread and weakness, the
scratch of thorn. the puncture OF pointed
cane, the bite of an ant, or the sting of
wasp. The smallest thing serves to start
an ulcer. which presently becomes virulent
and eats its way to the hone. and the man
dies. These sores rage like an epidemic,
and dozens are sufferers. Then the reck-
lessness with which the men eat up their
stores of provisions, What might have
lasted ten days is eaten up in two or three,
and they starve the rest of the time, for the
spaces between the banana plantations
may be only days march. but they may
be twenty days. But il requires q calamity
to teach blacks as well rs white how To live.
On the eighty-hrst day of the march
from Yambuya We came across commun-
ity of ivory raiders from an Arab station
called kibonge, on the Lualaba. We leave
ffsy-six of our sick people with them to be
boarded for money. Seventeen DAYS later
we leave Captain Nelson with fifty-two