The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-03-13
LIFE ON THE CONGO.
Where Black Men Sell Their
Parents Into Bondage.
USE OF PRoMIssoRY NOTES.
The African Slave Is Better or Than
the Gree" Toiier of London
Power Of Makito Of Ngombs.

lor some years, inducing them to carry up
from the coast loads of merchandise for
stations IN the interior. For their ser
vices they received payment-at known
rate-in pieces of cloth, such as striped
calicoes. blue indigos, strips of handker-
chiefs, each consisting of a dozen uncut,
| gaudliy-colored squares of cotton, or such
other cloth as my stores contained or their
fancy dictated. Handkerchiefs were as a
rule the fashion, although a check known
as "nkelele," or the guinea-fowl, by reason
OF its white spots, ran them hard.
Money was quite unknown. I myself
| never saw it, never possessed it, never
| longed for any for period of close on
| three years spent in this life up country.
From an elephants tusk, worth $500 in
| Europe. to a single purple nsafu fruit, of
| an unknown absence of value, cloth such
as l have described, blue glass beads, or
brass wire in eighteen-inch lengths, alone
| served for the purpose.
Sometimes it happened that carriers ar
rived, and my paying store was empty
until fresh supplies of cloth could reach
me from the coast.
| In these cases each carrier readily &C
| cepted scrap of paper "good for" the
number of pieces due to him, to be re-
deemed at sight.
A smiling circle of gazing, wondering
| faces would surround me as I wrote these
"minkanda" or skins" as the natives
term paper, believing it to be the skin OF
| some unknown creature.
Turning them round and round in their
| fingers, or holding them upside down,
| each native in turn would take with q grin
his billet d'echange.
Some, more bold or more full of fun than
| others, after having drunk in their fill of
the strange hieroglyphics my pen had
| traced on their "bon," would hold it to-
| ward me, and half laughing, half doubt
ing, would gasp out:
And does this really show three pieces
| of handkerchief
Then gravely would point it all out,
word for word, tracing which of the lines
| represented the bearers name, which
| stood for the magical number "three'
| pieces, and showing where the 'handker-
| chiefs in heightened characters sprawled
across the page, finally pointing out the
| letters at the front that stood for my own
name, and which gave to the paper its
| value as "bon."
A pleased sigh, half of wonder, half
| of intense longing, generally greeted
| "handkerchiefs.
Then turning away, they would smack
| their thighs and break into peals of laugh
| ter, as they tied UP the scraps of paper In
| their loin cloths, to be treasured up until
| the day when they should return to de-
mand the promised payment. 1t thus
| happens there is often "paper money"
| floating round Kongo villages, bearing
| perhaps half dozen signatures of differ
| ent white men. At times the wrong white
man will be requested to pay on the
| strength of some dirty shred of paper
| dated years previously, and signed posi-
| bly, by comrade who had long since jour
| neyed the long, long journey-opportun
| not having offered to the native earlier to
| present the draft, and though time had
| killed the drawer of it, the bearers faith
| had waxed strong and blossomed with the
| years.
The would-be recipients face grew long
! er and longer as his mind gradually
| grasped through maze of questions and
| explanations, the fact that the paper he
| held was no longer negotiable; and turn
| ing sadly away he would gaze ruefully on
| it, while his hand still firmly grasped the
bond for-"Slx yards of Red Saved list,
payable to Lutete Mbonzo by John Will
Jams, Sd September, 1884," which now
could never be presented save in the courts
of death.
But such cases were very rare; the claim
was almost invariably acknowledged by
the white trader, or missionary, or gov
| eminent officials, as the case might be;
and an infinite faith born of past expert
ence in the white mans bond rendered the
payment by "minkanda," when q tempo
rary lack of cloth compelled it, means al
ways accepted by if not always acceptable
to the natives.
One busy morning, while engaged in
paying a newly-arrived caravan, Maquala,
the chiefs nephew and successor, marched
gaily up, as was his wont, with floating
cloth of blue and red and, offering me the
preliminary greeting of "Mbote Nfumu, +"
presented me with nonchalant manner an
apparent "bon," carefully folded up as if
1t had just emerged from its resting place
| in the loin cloth, and then stood awaiting
payment. Finishing with the carriers,
turned my attention to Maquala and,
slowly unrolling the somewhat greasy
morsel Of paper, discovered it to be the
| off sheet of a piece of note paper, such as
one tears away and keeps when destroying
the written half of ones old letters
Across il wandered a struggling entangle-
ment of ink strokes, spluttering and thick,
| somewhat rs though bird had trod in an
upset inkpot and hepped across the page
Round and round the page they wandered,
| and ended in a grand climax of circles and
blots near the bottom.
studied this composition for some time
and then raised my eyes to Maquaia's
calmly and reposefully looking back into
mine.
We regarded each other in silence for
some moments, and as | slowly shook NV
mead and handed back the supposed bon"
broad smile rippled and spread over
/ Maquala's youthful countenance-a smile
OF amused disappointment.
so you won't pay it, eh?" he queried,
still looking al me, as the smile deepened
and broadened, while 4 dying CLEAN Of
hope vet fingered in his eyes.
NO, Maquala. not that one" I said
with emphasis, as | vainly struggled to
hopelessy dishonest, yet hoping all
things" heir apparent to an African
throne.
As MaQuala Joined group of lads who
had been waiting for him he shook his
head laughingly as he held out the re-
jected paper, exclalming:
No good; he wont pay IL" and shrieks
of laughter arose from all as the wouId-be
forger disconsolately turned tins seif-in-
spired infant attempt at African forgery
round and round in his hand, striving to
detect W herein lay the difference, evidently
so apparent to me, between il and a
genuine effort OF white mans pen.
The past in tropical Africa is a blank
the future, an unknown possibility, peo-
pied in each savage mind with horrible
fears OF witchcraft and spirit-world devil
trv. mingled with tieeting hopes of more
wives. more slaves, more ''zimbongo. -
Or white mans CoOds-and visionary