Their villages are built in just sufficient cleared ground to contain the number of huts required, and are often very picturesque, for they frequently contain palm-trees. The huts are made of leaves, and many of them are so primitive as to lack walls, resembling the sheds under which the Bangongo work in the daytime at Misumba. But if their dwellings are of a primitive nature, the houses which, in common with their Batetela neighbours, they erect over the tombs of their dead are well built, neat, and tidy. Respect for the graves of the departed is more noticeable among the peoples of the forest than among any of the other natives we visited. One often passes deserted villages in this part of the country whose inhabitants have left them and built another settlement upon the death of a chief or some other important member of the community. In this the primitive Batetela differ considerably from their more advanced cousins of Mokunji, who, the reader will remember, were only too pleased to sell us the skulls of their dead. We did not collect any skulls in the forest; to have suggested that any should be brought to us would have grievously wounded the feelings of the natives. The Akela provide little houses for their chickens, a luxury to which most Congo fowls are unaccustomed. In their methods of warfare these immigrants from the north display a difference from their neighbours, for shields are still in use among them. These are hewn out of solid wood, but are remarkably light, and are large enough to afford ample shelter to a man crouching behind them. We were not so hospitably received by the Akela as by their neighbours, and even had great difficulty in persuading them to lead us from one village to another, but no violence was attempted towards us, and the people appeared to be quite peaceful if not provoked by any act of aggression on the part of the traveller or his men. On the whole, we were not sorry when, turning southwards from a point about five-and-twenty miles south of the Government station of Lomela, and, marching along the well-worn caravan track which is usually followed from Lodja to Lomela, we at last reached that land of plenty and hospitable natives, Kandolo’s territory, and thence retraced our steps to the Lukenye. Our wanderings among the Batetela had shown us what an extraordinary difference can exist in manners and customs and in general character in peoples occupying similar country; for as my narrative, I hope, has shown, no two tribes could be less alike than the Bankutu and their Batetela neighbours. I have already stated that when we were leaving the forest an idea was mooted of colonising the Bankutu country with the captured Batetela mutineers, and this plan appears to me to be an admirable one. The villages near Lodja, such as Kandolo, show what Batetela energy can get out of the rich forest soil, and the rapid spread of civilised ideas, emanating from the more advanced Batetela, can influence their neighbours. It seems quite reasonable to hope, therefore, that the colonisation of the Bankutu country by civilised Batetela will lead to the cannibals around Kole gradually absorbing the ideas of the new-comers, and thus step by step advancing from their degraded condition. The Bankutu is too much of a savage to understand or appreciate any innovations introduced directly by the European, but he may be able to receive the seed of civilisation sown by other natives, and soon be ready to receive and even welcome the changes in his mode of life which the arrival of the white man must inevitably introduce among the native races over whom he rules. A scheme for the civilisation of the peoples of the southern portion of the great equatorial forest would be to introduce any useful innovations that may be acceptable to the progressive Batetela and allow them to pass them on to their neighbours; for the primitive peoples of the forest would be more likely to copy the ways of another native tribe than those of the white man himself.

We spent some days in Lodja after our journey in the forest, to rest after the fatigue of almost daily marching, and here our fox-terrier bitch, which together with a young dog we had brought out with us from England, presented us with a litter of puppies. With the exception of one, which died in a few weeks’ time, all the puppies lived and thrived, an indication that hardy European dogs, such as fox-terriers, can exist and reproduce even in the bad climate of the forest. We gave away the father of the litter and all the puppies excepting one to various white men whom we met, but Sanga, the mother, and Lubudi, the puppy we kept, stayed with us until our wanderings were at an end, and never were sick nor sorry for a single day. At the end of our journey, Lubudi was given to some nuns who were proceeding to a mission station, but Sanga returned with us to Europe, only to succumb to an abscess on the brain, after enduring the captivity enforced by the quarantine regulations and the rigours of one English winter. Poor little Sanga! She was a faithful companion, and I think that the shooting of her after our return was far the most unpleasant task I was called upon to perform in connection with our journey. She is buried in a Kentish garden, quite close to the cottage where she was born, and a little tombstone marks the last resting-place of a bitch who travelled far and endured many hardships and privations. She never loved the natives except our own “boys,” but all the natives who saw her were most anxious to possess her, and used to offer us high prices for her. It used to be quite amusing to place her on a table and promise to give her to any one who would lift her from it. Several people have approached the table, but no one has dared to touch her!

Upon leaving Lodja we marched to Idanga, the Kasai Company’s factory, on the left bank of the Sankuru at the confluence of that river with the Lubefu. The way lay through several outlying villages of the Bankutu, but these people were far less disagreeable than their kinsmen around Kole, and our progress through their country was uneventful. We were delighted to leave the forest, and, weary and footsore as we were, to reach a place by the riverside where travelling is done in canoes, and where we could work up at our leisure the results of our wanderings in the equatorial forest.