Bembe is the third great elevation, and it stands boldly and cliff-like out of the broad plain on which we have been travelling, and at its base runs the little river Luqueia.

Approaching it from the westward, we see a high mountain to the right of the plateau of Bembe, separated from it by a narrow gorge thickly wooded that drains the valley, separating in its turn the table-land of Bembe from the high flat country beyond, in a north and easterly direction. This valley, in which the great deposit of malachite exists, is about a mile long in a straight line and runs N.N.W. by S.S.E. (Plate VIII.).

It is a cul-de-sac at its northern end, terminating in a beautiful waterfall which the waters of a rivulet have worn in the clay slate of the country. This rivulet, after running at the bottom of the valley, takes a sudden bend at its southern end, and escapes through the narrow gorge described above as separating the peak or mountain from the table-land of Bembe. The side of the valley next to Bembe is very steep along its whole length, and shows the clay slate of the country perfectly; the other side, however, is a gradual slope, and is covered by a thick deposit of clayey earths, in which the malachite is irregularly distributed for the whole length of the valley.

The malachite is often found in large solid blocks;—one resting on two smaller ones weighed together a little over three tons, but it occurs mostly in flat veins without any definite dip or order, swelling sometimes to upwards of two feet in thickness, and much fissured in character from admixture with dark oxide of iron, with which it is often cemented to the clay in which it is contained.

Two kinds of clay are found, a ferruginous red, and an unctuous black variety. The malachite occurs almost entirely in the former. A large proportion was obtained in the form of small irregularly-shaped shot, by washing the clay in suitable apparatus. Large quantities had been raised by the natives from this valley before the country was taken possession of by the Portuguese.

For about fifteen years previously, as before stated, from 200 to 300 tons per annum had been brought down to Ambriz by the natives for sale. The mining captain sent out by the English Company did not judiciously employ his force of miners in properly exploring the deposit, so that its extent was never fully ascertained; no shafts were sunk to more than six or eight fathoms in depth at the bottom of the valley, from the quantity of water met with, but in several places the bottom of these shafts was found to be pure solid malachite. In no case was malachite ever found in the clay-slate rock of the country, and there can be no doubt that this vast deposit was brought and deposited in the valley by the agency of water. No other mineral is to be found in the valley, and only some rounded, water-worn pieces of limestone were found in the clay and associated with the malachite.

In some pieces of this a few crystals of atacamite are to be rarely seen. The clay-slate is completely bare of minerals,—with very few veins of quartz, which is highly crystalline,—has well-defined cleavage planes, with a strike of N.W. by S.E., and dips to the S.S.W. at an angle of about 55°.

In no part of Angola, except at Mossamedes, have any regular lodes or deposits of copper or other metals (except iron) been found in situ; all bear unmistakable evidences of having been brought from elsewhere, and deposited by the action of water in the places where they are now found.

I have no doubt that the country farther to the interior will be found immensely rich—in copper principally—where the lodes most likely exist that have supplied the enormous amount of copper carbonates found all over Angola, and farther north at Loango.

Some idea may be formed of the great extent of the Bembe deposit, if we consider the manner in which the natives formerly extracted the malachite. It was entirely by means of little round pits, about three or four feet in diameter, sunk in the bottom of the valley and along its whole length, particularly at several places where the water draining from the country above had washed away the clay, and formed little openings on the same level as the bottom of the valley. When I arrived at Bembe, many of these pits were still open for a couple of fathoms deep, as many as eight or nine pits being sunk together in a rich spot. They sunk them only in the dry season, and as deep as four or five fathoms, but of course they were never carried down quite perpendicularly, but in an irregular zigzag fashion, and not being timbered they often fell together, and numbers of blacks were buried alive in them every year. We several times came across bones of blacks who had thus lost their lives. During the rainy season, of course, these pits were filled up with water and mud, and fresh ones had to be dug in the succeeding dry season.

To ascend and descend them the natives drove wooden pegs into the walls, and their only mining tools were the little hoes used in clearing and cultivating the ground, and the cheap spear-pointed knives, ten or eleven inches long, they received in barter at Ambriz from the traders.

The mines belonged to several of the towns in the immediate neighbourhood, principally to one called Matuta; but they allowed the natives of other towns to extract malachite from them, on payment of a certain quantity of the ore they raised.

The natives of Ambriz who went up to Bembe to buy malachite of the Mushicongos were seldom allowed to pass the River Luqueia, where the malachite was brought down for sale by measure, in little baskets, being like the red gum copal, broken into moderate-sized pieces, except the finer lumps, which were sold entire. Most of the malachite has since been obtained by means of levels driven into the side from the bottom of the valley, but the great mass, below the level at which water is reached, remains practically untouched.

The failure of the English Company, from causes to which it is here unnecessary further to advert, caused the works at the mines to be gradually abandoned, and for the last few years the Portuguese have allowed the blacks to work them in their own fashion again; and I was very sorry to see the place in a complete state of ruin, with only a few stone walls overgrown with a luxuriant growth of creepers and other plants to mark the places where the houses and stores formerly stood, and where several hundred natives used to be daily at work.

During the years 1858 and 1859, when I was first at Bembe, any number of natives could be had from the neighbouring towns, willing to work at the mines, and as many as 200 to 300 were daily employed, principally in carrying the ore and clay to the washing-floors, cutting timber, clearing bush, &c.; they were generally engaged for a week’s time, their pay ranging from one to three cotton handkerchiefs, and twenty or thirty beads for rations per day. Some few worked steadily for several weeks or even months, when they would go off to their towns, with perhaps only a few handkerchiefs, leaving the rest of their earnings to the care of some friend at Bembe till their return, as, if they took such an amount of wealth to their towns, they ran the risk of being accused of “fetish” and of having the whole taken from them, with perhaps a beating besides. Very often they would go “on the spree” for a week or more till they had spent it all on drink and rioting, when they would return to visit their towns nearly as poor as when they arrived.

Our best workmen were the soldiers of the garrison, mostly blacks and mulattoes from Loanda, and belonging to a sapper corps, and consequently having some knowledge of working, and of tools and implements. It was great trouble to teach the natives the use of the pick and shovel, and the wheelbarrow was a special difficulty and stumbling-block;—when not carrying it on their heads, which they always did when it was empty, two or three would carry it; but the most amusing manner in which I saw it used, was once where a black was holding up the handles, but not pushing at all, whilst another in front was walking backward, and turning the wheel round towards him with his hands. As many as 1000 carriers at a time could easily be had from the neighbouring towns to carry the copper ore to Quiballa or Ambriz, by giving them two or three days’ notice.

The carriers, either at Bembe or on the coast, are always accompanied by a head-man, called a “Capata” (generally from each town, and bringing from 10 to 100 or more carriers), who is responsible for the loads and men. The load of the carriers used to be two and a half “arrobas” or eighty pounds of malachite, and some few strong fellows used to carry two such loads on their heads all the way to Ambriz. Their pay was one piece of ten cotton handkerchiefs, and 300 blue glass beads for each journey—the “Capata” taking double pay and no load. This was equal to about 5l. per ton carriage to Ambriz. At present the cost would be much more on account of the great decrease of population from several epidemics of small-pox, and from the very large carrying trade in ground-nuts and coffee.

At the end of the valley, where it joins the narrow gorge that drains it, an enormous mass of a very hard metamorphic limestone, destitute of fossil remains, rises from the bottom to a height of about thirty feet, and in it are contained two caverns or large chambers. This mass of rock is imbedded in a dense forest, and is overgrown by trees and enormous creepers, the stems of which, like great twisted cables, hang down through the crevices and openings to the ground below.

Great numbers of bats inhabit the roof of the darkest of these caverns, and some that I once shot were greatly infested with a large, and very active, nearly white species of the curious spider-looking parasite Nyctiribia, that lives on this class of animals.

In the thick damp shade of the trees surrounding this mass of rock, we collected the rose-coloured flowers of that extremely curious root parasite, the Thonningea sanguinea (Dr. Hooker, ‘Transactions of the Linnean Society,’ 1856).—These specimens are now in the Kew Museum.

The Portuguese built a fine little fort at Bembe, with a dry ditch round it, which has stood one or two sieges; but the Mushicongos are a cowardly set without any idea of fighting, so that they were easily beaten off by the small garrison.

At the time of my first arrival at Bembe, there were about 200 men in garrison, who were well shod, clothed, and cared for. They had a band of music of some fifteen performers, and the manner in which it was got up was most amusing. One of the officers sent to Loanda for a number of musical instruments, and picking out a man for each, he was given the option of becoming a musician, or of being locked up in the calaboose on bread and water for a certain period. They all, of course, preferred the former alternative, and there happening to be a mulatto in the garrison who had been a bandsman, he was elevated to the post of bandmaster, and forthwith ordered to teach the rest.

The performances of this band may be best left to the imagination, but wonderful to relate, the governor (Andrade) used to take pleasure in listening to the excruciating din, which would have delighted a Hottentot, and would make them play under his quarters several evenings a week.

On the anniversary of the signing of the “Carta Constitucional,” a great day in Portugal, the same governor invited us all to a picnic at the top of the Peak, where a large tent had been erected and a capital breakfast provided: a three-pounder gun had been dragged up to fire salutes, and we enjoyed a very pleasant day. From the summit a magnificent view of the surrounding country is obtained, and on descending, we proceeded to visit the town of Matuta, some little distance off. On approaching the town, the band struck up, accompanied by the big drum beaten to the utmost. Our approach had not been perceived, and at the unaccountable uproar of the band as we entered the town, a most laughable effect was produced on the inhabitants, who fled in all directions in the greatest dismay, with the children crying and yelling as only small negroes can. After our sitting down, and holding out bottles of rum and bunches of beads, they quickly became convinced of our peaceable intentions and flocked round us, and in a little time the king, a short thin old man, made his appearance, dressed in a long red cloak, a large cavalry helmet on his head, and carrying a cutlass upright in his hand, at arm’s-length. After the usual drinks and compliments, the band played again, to the now intense enjoyment of the inhabitants, who capered and danced and shouted around like demons. So great was the effect and pleasure produced on them by the band, that they made a subscription of beads, and presented it to the performers.

From this town we went to another close by, separated only by a small stream, which was governed by another king, also a very old man, who, we found, was nearly dying of age and rheumatism. In crossing the stream, our king of the red cloak and helmet presented a comical appearance, for to save his finery from wetting, he tucked it up rather higher than was necessary or dignified. This same king, having on one occasion brought into Bembe a couple of blacks who had robbed their loads in coming up the country from Ambriz, got so drunk upon the rum which he received as part of the reward for capturing them, that his attendants stripped him of his state uniform and helmet, and left him by the side of the road stark naked, with a boy sitting by his side holding an umbrella over him till his everyday clothes were sent from his town, and he was sufficiently sober to walk home. In Africa, as everywhere else, there is often but a step from the sublime to the ridiculous!

Mr. Flores’s agent at Bembe used to buy ivory, though after a time he had to give up trading there, partly on account of having to carry up the goods for barter from Ambriz, and from the natives wanting as much for the tusks as they were in the habit of getting on the coast;—blacks having no regard whatever for time or distance, eight or ten days’ journey more or less being to them perfectly immaterial. The road followed by the caravans of ivory from the interior passes, as I have said before, near Bembe; consequently a good many caravans left the usual track and came there to sell their ivory, or if they could not agree on the terms, passed on to the coast, and it was interesting to see them arrive, and watch the process of bartering.

From Bembe we could descry the long black line of negroes composing the “Quibucas” or caravans, far away on the horizon across the mine valley, and it was here that I became convinced of the superiority of the negro’s eyesight over the white man’s. Our blacks, particularly old Pae Tomás, could tell with the naked eye the number of tusks, and the number of bags of “fuba” or meal, in a caravan, and whether they brought any pigs or sheep with them, at such a distance that not one of us could distinguish anything without a glass—in fact, when we could only see a moving black line. Caravans of 200 and 300 natives, bringing as many as 100 large tusks of ivory, were not unfrequent.

As soon as they came within hearing distance, they beat their “Engongui,” as the signal bells are called, one of which accompanies every “Quibuca,” and is beaten to denote their approach, the towns answering them in the same manner, and intimating whether they can pass or not, if there is war on the road, and so on. These “Engongui” (Plate IV.) are two flat bells of malleable iron joined together by a bent handle, and are held in the left hand whilst being beaten with a short stick. There is a regular code of signals, and as each bell has a different note, a great number of variations can be produced by striking each alternately, or two or three beats on one to the same, or lesser number on the other; a curious effect is also produced by the performer striking the mouths of the bells against his naked stomach whilst they are reverberating from the blows with the stick.

As the caravans were coming down the valley, Pae Tomás used to amuse himself sometimes by signalling “war,” or that the road was stopped, when the whole caravan would squat down, whilst the “Capatas,” or head-men in charge, would come on alone, but at the signal “all right,” or “road clear,” all would start forward again.

Only one “Engongui” can be allowed in each town, and belongs to the king, who cannot part with it on any account, as it is considered a great “fetish,” and is handed down from king to king. To obtain the one in my possession, I had to send Pae Tomás to the “Mujolo” country, where they are principally made, but as he was away only four days, I believe he must have got it nearer Bembe than the “Mujolo,” which lies to the N.N.E. of Bembe, but according to all accounts at many days’ journey, which I am inclined to believe, as these “Mujolos” never come down to the coast, and were formerly very rarely brought as slaves in the caravans. They are greatly prized as slaves by the Portuguese, as they are very strong and intelligent, and work at any trade much better than any other race in Angola. They have very peculiar square faces, and are immediately known by their cheeks being tattooed in fine perpendicular lines, in fact the only race in Angola that tattoo the face at all. They are said to be a very savage race, and to practise cannibalism.

When the caravans approached Bembe, the “Capatas” would dress themselves in their best and each carry an open umbrella, or when the “Capata” was a very important personage, the umbrella used to be carried before him by a black, whilst he followed behind in the sun.

The day of their arrival was always spent in looking over the stock of goods, and receiving presents of cloth and rum, and generally a pig for a feast. The next day the tusks would be produced and the barter arranged in the manner explained in the preceding chapter.

The caravans seldom brought any curiosities, only very rarely a few mats or skins; one skin that I purchased proved to be that of a new monkey, described by Dr. P. L. Sclater as the Colobus Angolensis (‘Proceedings of the Zoological Society of London,’ May, 1860).

A few slaves were sometimes brought to Bembe from the interior, and sold to the Cabinda blacks, who were our washer-boys, and also to the Ambriz men, our servants, slaves being amongst the natives in Angola the principal investment of their savings. The prices paid for them varied according to size, sex, age, and freedom from blemish or disease, and ranged from one to two pieces of “chilloes” (a Manchester-made cloth, in pieces of fourteen yards, and costing about 3s. each) for a boy or girl; to six or seven pieces, at most, for a full-grown man or woman.

Gum Elemi, called “Mubafo,” used to be brought in large cakes, and is said to be very abundant not many days’ journey from Bembe, but its low price in Europe does not allow of its becoming an article of trade from this part of Africa at present.

There are no cattle from the River Congo to the latitude of Loanda. At Bembe a few oxen used to arrive from a country eight to ten days’ journey off, in a S.E. direction, but, although carefully tended, would gradually lose flesh and die in a few months. On the coast they seem to thrive very well in the hands of white men, but yet the natives never breed them, whether from indolence, or from the climate not being quite suitable to them, it is difficult to say, but most likely from the former.

The Portuguese expedition to occupy Bembe took mules, donkeys, and camels from the Cape de Verde Islands, but they all died, though in charge of a veterinary surgeon, who attributed their death to the character of the grass, most of the species having the blades very serrated, and according to him causing death by injury to the coats of the stomach.

In connection with the mortality of cattle and other animals, I may mention that all the cats at Bembe had their hind quarters more or less paralysed, generally when a few months old, sometimes even when quite young kittens, when it certainly could not be the result of any blow. This was the case without exception during the two years I was at Bembe. I have seen the same occur on the coast, but more rarely.

Sheep and goats breed very well, particularly about Ambrizzette. The sheep are a very peculiar variety, long-legged, and covered with short hair. The goats are small but especially beautiful, and generally black and white in colour. Cocks and hens are small and tasteless and always scarce, as the natives are too indolent to rear any, only keeping a few animals that can find their own living: they never think of giving them any food or water unless they are actually dying, the consequence is that only sheep and goats and a few fowls thrive or are seen in their towns. I have only seen a few pigeons in two or three towns. Their pigs, as might be imagined, are painful to look upon, living on grass and what few roots they can grub up, and on all the excrement and filth of the towns. It is impossible to conceive anything more distressingly thin and gaunt than the poor pigs, perfectly flat, and hardly able to trot along.

On our journey to Bembe the natives were greatly surprised at our giving some boiled rice from our plates to a brood of pretty little chickens at a town where we breakfasted, as they did not belong to us. Their dogs, wretched, small, starved, long-eared animals, like little jackals, live, like the pigs, upon rubbish, and hunt rats and other small game. I once saw a dog eating the grains off a green indian-corn cob, which he was holding down with his two front paws, nibbling it as a sheep would, and seeming to enjoy it. Cats are very rarely seen in the towns;—they are greatly esteemed by the Mushicongos for food, and their skins for wearing as an ornament. I once shot a half-wild cat that used to visit my fowl-yard, and had eaten some chickens; my cook skinned it, and sold the flesh for 300 beads, and the skin for 200—300 beads being then a fancy price for the largest fowl, ordinary chickens usually averaging 100 beads each only.

Provisions at that time were fabulously cheap, though not more so, perhaps, than should be expected from the wonderful fertility of the soil, the little trouble the natives have in its cultivation, and their small necessities. Eggs and bananas were sold at one blue glass bead each, of a kind made in Bohemia, and costing wholesale under twopence for a bunch of 600. Mandioca-meal, beans, &c., were sold at a similar rate.

One ugly black was the principal purveyor of eggs; he used to collect them at all the towns and fairs around, and bring them into Bembe for sale, but he was a sad rogue, and never sold a basketful of eggs but a number were sure to be found rotten. At the fort he was once tied over a gun and well thrashed, but this did not cure him, and at last, tired of buying bad eggs from him, I had him held by a couple of our servants the next time he brought me a basket of eggs for sale, whilst my cook broke them into a basin one by one, the rotten ones being rubbed on his great woolly head, on which he had allowed the hair to grow like a great frizzled bush. His appearance when released was most comical, and produced the greatest excitement among the rest of the niggers, who danced and yelled and hooted at him as he ran along, crying, to the stream at the mines to wash himself. The cure was effectual this time, and we never had further cause of complaint against him.

There are four weekly fairs or markets held near Bembe, the principal one being at Sona, about six miles off. To this market natives from many miles distant come with produce, &c., to barter for cloth, rum, and beads from the coast. To travel two or three days to attend a fair is thought nothing of by the blacks,—this is not to be wondered at when we consider the climate, and that a mat to sleep on is the most they need or carry with them on a journey. Their food being almost entirely vegetable and uncooked, they either take it with them, or buy it on the road.

Another celebrated fair is at Quimalenço, on the road to Bembe, and about thirty miles distant, and our servants and blacks working at the mine were constantly asking leave to go to it. Both at Sona and the latter fair no blacks are allowed with sticks or knives, a very wise precaution, considering the quantity of palm wine, garapa, and other intoxicating liquors consumed. I have seen not less than 2000 natives assembled at these fairs, selling and buying beans, mandioca roots and meal of different kinds, Indian corn, ground-nuts, palm-nuts and oil; pigs, sheep, goats, fowls; cotton cloth, handkerchiefs, &c.; crockery, clay pipes, and pipe-stems, but not a single article manufactured by themselves, with the exception, perhaps, of a few sleeping-mats, and the conical open baskets called “Quindas,” in which the women carry roots, meal, and other produce on their heads.

During my first stay in Bembe, the king of Congo having died, his successor, the Marquis of Catende, came in state to Bembe to ask the Portuguese to send priests to San Salvador, to bury his predecessor and to crown him king. In former times, San Salvador, the capital of the kingdom of Congo, was the chief missionary station of the Portuguese, who built a cathedral and monasteries there, the ruins of which still exist; they appear to have been very successful in civilizing the natives, and though the mission was abandoned more than a hundred years ago, their memory is revered in the country to this day. I have been told by the Portuguese priests and officers who have been at San Salvador that the graves of the former missionaries are still carefully tended and preserved, with every sign of respect, and that missals and other books, letters, chalices, and other church furniture of the olden time still exist, and the natives would not part with them on any account.

In times past the King of Congo was very powerful; all the country, as far as and including Loanda, the River Congo, and Cabinda, was subject to him, and paid him tribute. The missionaries under his protection worked far and wide, attained great riches, and were of immense benefit to the country, where they and the Portuguese established and fostered sugar-cane plantations, indigo manufacture, iron smelting, and other industries. With the discovery and colonization of the Brazils, however, and the expulsion of the Jesuits from Angola, the power of the Portuguese and of the king of Congo has dwindled away to its present miserable condition. The king of Congo is now only the chief of San Salvador and a few other small towns, and does not receive the least tribute from any others, nor does he possess any power in the land. Among the natives of Angola, however, he still retains a certain amount of prestige as king of Congo, and all would do homage to him in his presence, as he is considered to possess the greatest “fetish” of all the kings and tribes, though powerless to exact tribute from them.

The Marquis came to Bembe attended by a retinue of 300 blacks and his private band, consisting of eight elephant tusks blown like horns, and six drums. These tusks were moderate sized, about three to three and a half feet long, and were bored down the centre nearly to the point, to a small hole, or narrow aperture cut in the side, to which the lips are applied to produce the sound, which is deep and loud, but soft in tone, and can be heard at a great distance. The drums are hollowed out of one piece of wood, generally of the “Mafumeira” tree, which is very soft and easily worked: the open end is covered with a sheepskin tightly stretched and rubbed over with bees-wax, a small portion of which is left sticking in the middle. Before use, these drums are slightly warmed at a fire to soften the wax and make the skin a little sticky, when being struck by the flat of the fingers (not the palms of the hands) they adhere slightly, and cause the blows to produce a more resonant sound. The better made ones are rubbed quite smooth on the outside with the dry leaf of a certain tree, which is very rough, and acts like sand-paper, and then dyed a bright red with the fresh red pulp enveloping the seeds of the Annatto plant (Bixa Orellana), which I have seen growing wild in the interior.

When the Marquis approached Bembe he made known his coming by his band blowing the horns and thumping the drums, and we could see the caravan in the distance slowly winding through the grass. On arriving at the edge of the mine valley they all halted, and the band again struck up. The Marquis got out of his hammock, attired like any other black, unlocked a small box containing his wardrobe, and proceeded to dress himself, in which operation he was assisted by his two secretaries;—first he put on a white shirt, but not having taken the precaution to unbutton the front, it was some time before his head emerged from it; a gaily-coloured cloth was next produced from the box and fastened round his waist; a blue velvet cloak edged with gold lace was put on his shoulders, and on his head a blue velvet cap, which completed his royal costume; his feet bare of course.

They then came into Bembe, and proceeded to the fort, where they were received with a salute of four guns, which it was the Marquis’s right to receive from the Portuguese, but which being evidently unexpected, made one half of the crowd scamper as fast as they could, till they were recalled. At the gate the guard turned out and presented arms, and, preceded by the band of the fort, he was taken to the Governor’s quarters, where we were all assembled to meet him.

The usual complimentary speeches then took place, his secretary translating for him, and the Governor’s cook being interpreter on our side. The Marquis spoke only a few words of Portuguese, and never having been among white men, he was rather strange to the use of knives and forks, so at dinner his meat was cut up small for him, which he forked slowly into his mouth, now and then draining a whole tumblerful of Lisbon wine. The dinner-service of crockery and glass, &c., seemed to strike him as being of marvellous magnificence.

After first tasting a glass of beer myself, according to the fashion of the country, I offered it to him, to see how he would like it; he took a mouthful, but immediately turned round and spat it out, with a very wry face. He passed the remainder to his two secretaries, who were squatted on the ground behind him, eating stewed fowl and mandioca-meal out of a dish with their fingers. As it would have been an unpardonable incivility on their part not to drink whatever he gave them, they each took a mouthful from the glass, though he was making faces and wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, but both got up instantly and hurried outside, where we could hear them spitting and sputtering at the bitter draught.

On handing round the “palitos” or toothpicks after dinner, he took one, but did not know what to do with it till he saw to what use they were applied by us, when he burst out laughing, and said in Congo language, “that the white men were very strange people, who, after putting such delicious food into their mouths, must needs pick out the little bits from their teeth with a stick,” and he asked for a few, which he gave to his secretaries to keep, to take back to his country as curiosities.

He is a handsome, stout, middle-aged man, and with a very much better cast of countenance than is usual among the Mushicongos.

During the time that he was at Bembe, the kings of the neighbouring towns came together one morning to pay him homage, and his state reception was a very amusing and interesting ceremony.

The kings and their people appeared, not in their best, but in the poorest and most ragged condition possible, whether according to custom, or from a fear that the Marquis might, in view of their riches, demand tribute from them as formerly, I know not. The Marquis was seated on a chair placed on a large mat, with his bare feet on a leopard skin;—behind his chair squatted the whole of his retinue.

The kings, with their people, not less than 100 blacks, on arriving at some little distance, dropped on their knees, bowed their heads to the ground, and then clapped their hands, to which the Marquis replied by moving the fingers of his right hand to them; one of his secretaries, a very tall, lanky negro, dressed in a quaker coat with a very high, straight collar, then knelt before him, and presented him with the sword of state, which the Marquis pulled out of the scabbard and returned to him.

The tall secretary now borrowed a red cloak from one of the retinue, which he secured round his waist with his left hand, allowing it to drag behind him like a long red tail, and commenced a series of most extraordinary antics, dancing about brandishing his sword, and pretending to cut off heads, to exemplify the fate in store for his majesty’s enemies.

Approaching the kneeling embassy, he shook his sword at them like a harlequin at a clown in a pantomime, when they all rose and followed him for a few paces, and then dropped on their knees whilst he went through the dance and sword exercise again; this performance repeated, brought them nearer the Marquis, and a third time brought the whole lot to his feet, where they all rubbed their foreheads and fingers in the dust, whilst the secretary knelt and placed the sword across his knees; then came a general clapping of hands, and the king of Matuta and several others made long speeches, to which the Marquis replied, not to them directly, but to his secretary, who repeated it, every twenty or thirty words being interrupted by a great blowing of the horns and beating of the drums, lasting for a couple of minutes.

After the speeches the kings presented their offering, which consisted only of a gourd of palm wine, of which, according to custom, the Marquis had to drink.

The Governor of Bembe had provided him with a couple of bottles of Lisbon wine for the ceremony, and also a tumbler; this last was filled with palm wine from the gourd, and given to the secretary, and he handed it to the Marquis, who made the sign of the cross over it with his hand, repeating at the same time some words in Latin: this they have learnt from the ceremonies of the mass in the old Roman Catholic missals still in their possession.

The Marquis, not feeling inclined to drink palm wine, availed himself of the custom of the kings of Congo not eating or drinking in public, to practise a little deception. Whilst two attendants held up a large mat before him, he passed the tumblerful of palm wine to his secretaries, who quickly swallowed its contents, and taking up one of the bottles of Lisbon wine from under his chair, put it to his mouth, and nearly emptied it at a draught. The curtain was then removed, and the nearly empty bottle of wine passed to the king of Matuta, who poured the contents into the tumbler, took a drink himself, and passed it to the rest, who had a sip each till it was drained dry. Speeches were again made, and the embassy, having once more rubbed their foreheads and fingers in the dust, got up and bent nearly double, then turned and walked away very slowly and carefully, reminding me most comically of cats after they have been fighting.

A singular custom of the kings of Congo is that of never expectorating on the ground in public, it being “fetish” to do so, and foretelling some calamity. When the Marquis wished to clear his throat, the lanky secretary would kneel before him, and taking a dirty rag out of a grass pouch suspended from his shoulder, would present it to him with both his hands, to spit into; the rag was then carefully doubled up, kissed, and replaced in the pouch.

I was told by the padre at Bembe, who went on a mission to Engoge, that the king there, the “Dembo Ambuilla,” also has the same custom, but performed in a much more disgusting manner, as, instead of spitting into a rag like the King of Congo, the “Dembo” expectorates into the palm of an attendant’s hand, who then rubs it on his head!

Having heard at Loanda that Dr. Bastian had passed through San Salvador, I inquired of the Marquis whether he had seen him. He replied that a white man, whose name he knew not, had lately been through his town (a little distance from San Salvador), and had given him a “mucanda” or letter, which he would show me: and, taking me into his hut, he took out of his box a parcel of rags, which he carefully undid till he came to a half-sheet of small paper, on which was engraved the portrait of some British worthy dressed in the high-collared coat in fashion some thirty or forty years ago. As the lower half of the sheet was torn off, there was no inscription on it by which I could identify the portrait, which seemed to have been taken from a small octavo volume. The Marquis would not show the portrait to the Governor or any Portuguese, as he was afraid that it might say something that would compromise him with them, and on my assuring him that there was no danger whatever in it, he seemed to be much easier in his mind.

On the Sunday morning the Marquis attended the garrison’s military mass, and caused much amusement by bringing his band with him, which played during the service. Although he had never before heard mass, his conduct, and that of the head men who accompanied him, was most proper and decorous; they knelt, crossed themselves, and seemed to pray as earnestly as if they had been brought up to it all their lives.

A visit they paid the works at the mines greatly interested them, the steam-engine and saw-mill specially attracting their attention; but the most incomprehensible wonder to them was an ordinary monkey, or screw-jack, which was fixed under one end of a huge trunk of a tree lying on the ground, and on which as many blacks were asked to sit as it could carry;—great was their astonishment to see me lift the whole tree and blacks by simply turning the handle of the monkey. After much clapping of their hands to their mouths, the universal way of expressing surprise by the blacks, the Marquis asked, through his tall secretary, how I had performed the wonderful “fetish?” I explained as well as I could, that it was due to the mechanism inside, but I could see they did not believe me, and I afterwards ascertained that they thought the power was contained in the handle.

The king only spoke a few words of Portuguese, but the tall secretary not only spoke, but wrote it very fairly. He assured me that he had not been taught by the white men, but by blacks whose ancestors had acquired the language from the old missionaries. I am inclined to believe that he must have been a native of Ambaca, or some other province of the interior of Angola, where a great many of the natives at the present day can read and write Portuguese, transmitted from father to son since the olden time.

Some time after the Marquis left, the Portuguese sent a padre from Loanda to join the one at Bembe, and proceed together to San Salvador, with an escort in charge of the officer at Bembe, an ignorant man, who, after the old king had been buried, became frightened and suddenly decamped without allowing them to crown the Marquis of Catende. A second expedition of 100 soldiers was then sent. The priests were welcomed with demonstrations of the greatest joy by the natives, who loaded them with presents; but the military were coldly received, and not a single present was given to them or the officer in command, who, alarmed at their hostility and vexed at the reception given to the padres, again retreated to Bembe as fast as he could, and to screen his want of success and cowardice, intrigued with the Governor-General at Loanda, and the padres were censured for that for which he himself was alone to blame.

Nearly 200 blacks presented themselves to the padres, saying that they were the descendants of the slaves of the former missionaries, and offering to rebuild the church and monasteries, if they were only directed and fed.

Had the Portuguese allowed the padres to go to San Salvador alone, unaccompanied by a military force, which gave an air of conquest to the expedition, a great step would have been made in the introduction of trade and civilization in that part of the interior, and it would have opened the way to geographical discovery. I am convinced that the invincible opposition to Lieutenant Grandy’s passage into the interior was due principally to the fear of the natives that the Portuguese might follow in his steps, and annex the country from whence they derive their ivory.

The soil about Bembe is magnificent, and will produce almost anything. Sugar-cane grows to a huge size, and vegetables flourish in a remarkable manner. During the time I was there I had a fine kitchen-garden, and not only kept the miners supplied with vegetables, but almost every day sent as much as one, and sometimes two, blacks could carry to the fort for the soldiers. Greens of all kinds and cabbages grow beautifully, although the latter seldom form a hard head; all kinds of salad grow equally well, such as endive, lettuce, radishes, mustard and cress, &c.; peas, turnips, carrots, mint, and parsley also flourish, and tomatoes, larger than I ever saw them even in Spain and Portugal. Cucumbers, melons, and vegetable-marrows, we obtained very fine the first season, but the succeeding year a swarm of very small grasshoppers prevented us from getting a single one. Broad beans, although growing and flowering luxuriantly, never produced pods. I gave seeds to the old King of Matuta, and promised to buy their produce from him, and we very quickly had a load of beautiful vegetables every day.

It is almost impossible to estimate the advantage, in a country and climate like Africa, of an abundant supply of fresh salad and vegetables, and yet, although growing so luxuriantly, and with so small an amount of trouble, they are never cultivated by the natives of any part of Angola, and rarely by the Portuguese; the market at Loanda, for instance, is very badly supplied with vegetables.

Benguella and Mossamedes—particularly the latter—are the only exceptions to the general and stupid want of attention to the cultivation of vegetables. The only vegetable introduced by the former missionaries that still exists in cultivation in the country is the cabbage, which is sometimes seen in the towns (generally as a single plant only), growing with a thick stem, which is kept closely cropped of leaves, and as much as four or five feet high, surrounded by a fence to keep the goats and sheep from browsing on it; but I have never seen it in their plantations.

About Bembe a handsome creeper (Mucuna pruriens), with leaves like those of a scarlet-runner, and bearing large, long bunches of dark maroon bean-like flowers, grows very abundantly. The flowers are succeeded by crooked pods covered with fine hairs (cow-itch) which cause the most horrible itching when rubbed on the skin. The first time I pulled off a bunch of the pods I shook some of the hairs over my hand and face, and the sensation was alarming, like being suddenly stung all over with a nettle. I have seen blacks, when clearing bush for plantations, shake these hairs on their hot, naked bodies, and jump about like mad, until they were rubbed with handfuls of moist earth.

I saw at Bembe a striking illustration of the immunity of Europeans from fever and ague when travelling or otherwise actively employed.

One hundred Portuguese soldiers having misconducted themselves in some way at Loanda, were ordered to Bembe as a punishment. They marched from Ambriz in the worst part of the rainy season without tents (which, singular to say, are never used in Angola by the Portuguese troops), and were a fortnight in reaching Bembe.

They were not a bad-looking set of men, and were well shod and clothed, but had been badly fed on the road, principally on beans and mandioca-meal, and had had only water from the swollen pools and rivers to drink. Notwithstanding the exposure and hardships, only twelve fell ill on the march, and of those, only four or five had to be brought into Bembe in hammocks.

Fine barracks at the fort had been prepared for them, but next morning, on inspection by the doctor, no less than forty were ordered into hospital; next day thirty more followed, and within a week of their arrival every one of the 100 men had passed through the doctor’s hands, suffering principally from attacks of intermittent fever and ague, remittent fever, and a few cases of diarrhœa; but, to show the comparatively healthy climate of Angola, only one man died.

We were not so fortunate with our Cornish miners, all fine, strong, healthy, picked men; several causes contributed to their ill-health and deaths; exposure to sun and wet whilst at work, bad lodging, but principally great want of care on their part in eating and drinking whilst recovering from an attack of illness.

One circumstance that struck the doctor greatly, was the total want of pluck in the Cornishmen when ill; they used actually to cry like children, and lie down on their beds when suffering from only a slight attack of fever that a Portuguese would think nothing of. When they were seriously ill, it was with the greatest difficulty we could make them keep up their spirits, which is so essential to recovery, in fevers particularly. When convalescent, on the contrary, they could not be kept from eating or drinking everything, however indigestible or objectionable, that came in their way; and often was our good doctor vexed, and obliged to employ the few words of abuse he knew in English, on finding them, after a serious illness, eating unripe bananas, or a great plateful of biscuit and cheese and raw onions.

So constant were their relapses, from want of the commonest care on their part, that the doctor at last refused to attend them unless they were placed under lock and key till fit to be let out and feed themselves. Their complaints and grumblings, when well even, were incessant, and they were the most unhandy set imaginable; they could not even mend a broken bedstead, or put up a hook or shelf to keep their things from the wet or rats. There was but one exception, a boiler-maker, named Thomas Webster, who was a universal favourite from his constant good-humour and willingness. Poor fellow! after recovering from a very severe attack of bilious fever, he died at Ambriz, whilst waiting for the steamer that was to take him home.

The worthy Portuguese officer in command at Bembe on my last visit, Lieutenant Vital de Bettencourt Vasconcellos Canto do Corte Real, had prepared for our use the old house in which I had formerly lived, and received us most hospitably. We breakfasted and dined with him for the eight days of our stay, and with Lieutenant Grandy and his brother, who were also his guests. We were all the more thankful for Lieutenant Vital’s very kind reception, from our cook having fallen ill the day before we arrived, and being consequently unable to prepare our food.

Plate IX-BEMBE PEAK

Plate IX.
BEMBE PEAK.
To face page 231.

We made several excursions to the mines and to the caves, and one morning my wife and myself ascended to the top of the peak or mountain (Plate IX.), and breakfasted there.

On the 15th April, 1873, we bade good-bye to Bembe, and to the brothers Grandy and Lieutenant Vital, who accompanied us to the River Luqueia. On the third day we arrived at Quiballa, where we remained four days, employing them, as before, in collecting butterflies and drying some fine plants, amongst others the beautiful large red flowers almost covering a fine tree (Spathodea campanulata—R. de B.?).

The second afternoon we were visited by a terrific thunderstorm; one vivid flash of lightning was followed almost instantaneously by a deafening clap of thunder; the former must have struck the ground very near our hut, as both my wife and myself felt a slight shock pass through our ankles quite distinctly, and on asking the owner of the hut and one of our blacks who were with us, if they had felt anything, they both described having felt the same sensation.

So much rain fell during this storm that we were forced to remain a couple of days longer, as some carriers had been obliged to return to Quiballa, unable to pass the rivers. It was now nearly the end of the rainy season, when the heaviest falls occur, and we had already, after leaving Bembe, found that a lovely bank on the River Lifua, on our journey up the country, had been swept away by a flood, and a high pile of sand covered the beautiful carpet of flowers and ferns.

A small dog that we had taken a fancy to on board the steamer in which we went out, and who had been our constant companion, also accompanied us on this journey, and it was amusing to see her attempts to swim the swift currents, where she generally had to be carried across. The faithful creature seemed to know that there was danger in crossing the swollen streams, and she would yelp and cry on the bank till my wife and myself had been carried over, when she would express her delight by tearing along the banks and paths like mad.

Her solicitude for our safety was sometimes rather embarrassing, as whenever she had passed a swamp, in which her legs generally sank deep into the black mud, she would always insist on jumping up on the hammocks, evidently to ascertain that we were all right, and of course quite unmindful of the dreadful mess she made with her wet paws.

Like all European dogs, she never got over a certain antipathy to the black race, and although on the best terms with our own boys, who delighted in petting her, she always showed her contempt for the natives by making sudden rushes at them, from under her mistress’s hammock, when in passing through a town the women and children came running along cheering and shouting, to see the “white woman.” Though she never bit them, her sudden and fierce-looking attack would generally scatter the crowd, who, however, always took it in good part. At night we always put her under the Madeira chair, which made a very good kind of cage, and which we placed at the foot of our bed under the mosquito curtain, thus saving her from these pests, and also preventing her from rushing out at any noise outside the tent.

The evening before we reached Quingombe, we raced the blackest thunderstorm I have ever witnessed. About four o’clock in the afternoon of the very fierce, hot and sultry day, the wind began to lull and distant thunder was heard behind us. The sky indicated plainly that no ordinary storm was gathering, the clouds deepening in colour till at last they seemed to descend and touch the ground, forming a nearly black curtain, which as it slowly advanced hid hills, trees, and everything behind it; the top part of this thick black curtain seemed to travel at a faster rate than the rest below, and slowly formed a black arch over-head; at about five o’clock it seemed to be only a few hundred yards behind us, like a solid angry night trying to overtake us. Sudden flashes and long streaks of lightning seemed to shoot out of it, up and down and in all directions, with scarcely any intermission of the explosions of thunder that accompanied them.

Our carriers seemed perfectly frightened, and ran us along in our hammocks as if racing for life, till, a little before sunset, we reached a small village near the road, just as the advancing raindrops at last overtook and began pattering down upon us. We hurried with our baggage into a hut, but the wind suddenly seemed to increase in power from the south, and blew the storm away from its path to the westward, so that it only rained for about half an hour, and we had just time to set up our tent before the darkness of night, calm and cool, came on. Some of our carriers, who had remained behind and not been able to keep ahead of the storm, described the rain as coming down on them like a perfect deluge.

Next day we arrived late in the afternoon at Quingombe, and our carriers tried to dissuade us from proceeding on to Ambriz, alleging that the heavy rains had filled the marshes, so that they were impassable in the dark; but disbelieving them, I hurried them on, and reached the swamp that separates the town of Quingombe from the ferry on the River Loge at Quincollo;—sure enough it was one sheet of water, but unwilling to brave another night of mosquitoes we pushed on. Twice we had to get out of our hammocks (which were slung as high as they could possibly be) on to the Madeira chair, to be carried across deep places; and for about two miles there was hardly a dry place, our poor dog swimming and carried most of the time.

At last, at seven in the evening, we arrived at Quincollo to find that the river had overflowed the banks, and that, with the exception of a house and cane-mill, there was not a foot of dry ground to encamp upon, except a great heap of cane refuse from the mill. This and the house belonged to a convict, who had been a swineherd in Portugal, but in consequence of the abolition of capital punishment in that country, had escaped hanging, after committing a cruel murder. He is now a large slaveholder, agent to the line of steamers from Lisbon owned by an English firm at Hull, and much protected by the Portuguese authorities at Loanda!

Not caring to sleep on his premises, we encamped on the heap of refuse, on which we found it impossible to put up our tent, contenting ourselves with hanging up the mosquito-bar alone. We had reached our last biscuit and tin of preserved provision, and had just finished our tea and supper when the white man in charge of the convict’s premises, with his servants, came out with torches and armed, to find out who we were, fearing it might be an attack of the natives of Quingombe. He was most kind and pressing in his offers of shelter, in the absence of the owner, but we declined. He made us promise, however, that we would accept a canoe of his in the morning, which took us down the river about six miles to the bar, from whence we rode in our hammocks along the beach to Ambriz, thus happily ending our last excursion in Africa.

We had been absent just one month, in the worst part of the rainy season, without the slightest illness, and returned laden with a very interesting collection of insects and plants.