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CORISCO THE BEAUTIFUL.

CHAPTER IV.

Corisco the Beautiful.-The Mbingas.-Missionary Stations.-African Wake.-Set out for the Muni.-An Explorer's Outfit.-Plan of Operations.-Poor Debtor in Africa.-Lynch Law.-My Canoe.-The Muni.-Mangrove Swamps.-Lost.King Dayoko.-Salutations.

THE Gaboon, being old and beaten ground, did not need my explorations. It was useful to me as a starting-place or point of departure, because here only could I lay in such supplies of goods as I needed from time to time to make my way into the interior; and hither I returned to rest and regain health and strength after cach of my tours. Beyond this we shall have nothing to do with the Gaboon henceforth.

It was my intention to proceed first on an exploration of the River Muni, and for this purpose I sailed from Gaboon for Corisco Island, where I was to get canoes and men to help me at least a part of the way up river. Corisco-the picturesque Corisco it deserves to be called-is an island situated in the bay of the same name, and at about twelve miles from the main land of Cape St. John, between that and Cape Steiras. It is a tolerably high and well-wooded island, and its shores are lined chiefly with cocoanutpalms, the produce of some cocoanuts floated hither from the isles of Prince's and St. Thomas, where they are very plenty, whereas here the cocoanut is scarce known.

Though but a small island, Corisco has its hills and valleys, forests and prairies, and has even a little lake or pond, where ducks often come to bathe and fish. It seems a little world, and a very lovely little world at that. The shores are sometimes rocky and steep, presenting a firm front to the waves which rage and dash against its sides; and then again flat and sandy, forming beautiful white shell-strewn beaches backed by lovely palms, among which the little native villages are clustered, with their plantations of plaintain, manioc, peanuts, and corn showing through the palmgroves.

The villages are scattered all along the shore, so that, which

ever side you sail past, you see the smoke pleasantly curling above the tree-tops. Great quantities of beautiful shells are found on the shores, and among the rocks at low tide sea-birds also abound, and on almost any steep rock overhanging the water the hunter may see fish-hawks and eagles patiently sitting and watching for their finny prey below. Great quantities of fish are caught by the natives, and at certain seasons turtle frequent the shores, and are "turned" in considerable numbers. The interior forests abound in parrots and smaller birds.

The climate of the island is healthier than that of the neighboring coast. Water is scarce at certain seasons, though there are a few springs and little rivulets of pure water in the centre of the island which never run dry. The soil produces, besides cocoanuts, manioc, plantain, sweet potatoes, yams, and ground-nuts; limes are also abundant. Manioc is, however, the chief food of the people. Palm-oil-trees grow abundantly, but not much palmoil is made, and the natives consume all the island produces. But the palm adds another grace to a landscape of which my eyes never tired, and the bright-feathered parrots and other beautiful birds, and squirrels who constantly run about this palm and feed on its bunches of yellow nuts, make the tree a favorite with lovers of nature.

The island is not more than twelve miles in circumference. Its population, of about 1000 souls, is scattered all over the island. They are a quiet, peaceable people, hospitable to strangers and fond of white men, particularly of the missionaries who have settled among them. They belong to the Mbenga tribe, who are the most enterprising traders and the most daring boatmen of the coast. They were formerly the most warlike tribe of this part of the country, and, when I first came on the coast, were continually fighting with their neighbors. About ten years ago the Presbyterian Board of Missions sent out some missionaries, and the labors. of these worthy gentlemen have almost entirely changed the character of the Mbenga. They are no longer so quarrelsome, and have lost that reputation for ferocity which formerly they prided themselves on.

This tribe inhabits not only Corisco, but also the land about the neighboring Capes Steiras and St. John. Their language differs somewhat from the Bakalai, but has, like that, no letter R, while the Mpongwe and its dialects abound in the use of this letter.

D

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MISSIONARY LABORS.

Corisco has no cattle nor wild beasts, the only quadrupeds found being three varieties of squirrels. Snakes, however, are common, particularly a venomous black snake. The island produces little that can be traded away except vegetables. The meat of the inhabitants consists of fish and turtle. The energies of the Mbenga, finding no field in their little island, carry them to the main land, where they are in great repute as traders. In their canoes they sail up the Muni and Moondah rivers, and as far as Banoko, and many of them are regularly employed by the white merchants to do their trading.

There are three missionary stations on the island, Evangasimba, Ngobi, and Olongo. There is a school at each station, and when I was last there these schools were attended during the week by about 100 scholars, and on Sunday by about 125. Many of the children are growing up in Christian habits of life, and it is not too much to hope that the next generation will live a different life from this poor heathen and ignorant existence of their fathers. There are about 75 church members.

The missionaries have scholars in the schools from tribes on the main land, and these they hope to send out by-and-by to tell the glad tidings of salvation, each to his own people.

But much remains to be done. It is almost impossible to rout superstitious customs out of the hearts of those who have grown old in their practice. Upon such the missionaries can have but little influence. They say "Yes, yes," but they go ahead in their old ways. They respect and love the missionaries; they see the absurdity of their fetich worship; they are convinced of the wickedness of slave-killing and other cruelties; and then at the first excitement they sink back supinely into every superstitious or cruel custom. It is to the rising generation that the good missionaries have to look for the full reward of their faithful labors.

A few days before I left the island, Tonda, a Mbenga fellow who had traveled with me on the Muni, died, and at his funeral I was witness to a singular ceremony, akin to the "waking" of the body.

The mother of poor Tonda, who heard that I wished to see him once more, led me to the house where the body was laid. The narrow space of the room was crowded; about two hundred women were sitting and standing around, singing mourning songs to doleful and monotonous airs. They were so huddled

A MBINGA FUNERAL.

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together that for a while I could not distinguish the place of the corpse. At last some moved aside, and behold! the body of my friend.

It was seated in a chair.

It was dressed in a black tail-coat and a pair of pantaloons. It had several strings of beads about the neck.

Altogether, it was a ghastly sight, though the pallid face of death can not be seen in the negro.

As I stood looking, filled with solemn thoughts, in spite of, or rather because of, perhaps, the somewhat ludicrous contrasts about me, the mother of Tonda approached.

She threw herself at the feet of her dead son, and begged him to speak to her once more.

And then, when the poor corpse did not answer, she uttered a shriek, so long, so piercing, such a wail of love and grief, that the tears came into my eyes. Poor African mother! she was literally as one sorrowing without hope; for these poor people count on nothing beyond the present life. For them there is no hope beyond the grave. "All is done," they say, with an inexpressible sadness of conviction that sometimes gave me a heartache. Truly, it is worth while to bear words of comfort and promise to such as these.

As I left the hut, thinking these things, the wailing recommenced. It would be kept up by the women, who are the official mourners on these occasions, till the corpse was buried. Then the family and friends would lay aside their ornaments for many months, would refrain from dancing and all manner of merrymaking, till at last all is forgotten again.

At the funeral the friends of poor Tonda wished to bury with him a quantity of goods; but as the poor fellow was being buried according to the Christian manner, Rev. Mr. Mackey properly objected. The good missionary preached words of hope to the many hundreds standing about the grave, and perhaps the poor lone grieving mother found some comfort in her heart when she went away. I was glad to hope so at any rate.

The Bay of Corisco, across whose mouth lies the island of the same name, is one of the loveliest bays on the whole African coast. It would be also one of the finest for mercantile purposes were it not for its numerous shallows. It is about twelve miles deep, by twenty-five miles across at the mouth, and contains several

lesser islands and some sandy islets, which afford shelter for seabirds, and are famous places for picking up fine sea-shells. The rivers Muni and Moondah empty their waters into the bay; and on a clear day one can see from the hill-tops of Corisco the distant highlands of the interior main land, and the high mountains yet farther back in which the Muni has its source.

This bay was formerly much frequented in the season (July and August) by whales, who came here to drop their young; but the whale-ships have pursued them so regularly that now they are very shy, and no longer come in such quantities as formerly. I have known a vessel to get in two months sixteen or eighteen whales.

At Corisco I enjoyed the hospitality of the missionaries, and take this occasion to offer my grateful acknowledgments to the Rev. Messrs. James Mackey and Clemens for many kind attentions received from them.

It was here that I made preparations for a long journey, in which I intended to explore the Muni to its head-waters; to cross, if possible, the Sierra del Crystal, and see what kind of country and what manner of people were to be found there. I wanted particularly to visit the cannibal tribes in the Sierra, and to ascertain if the Congo, which had been supposed to flow northward back of these mountains, was there to be found.

My voyage was to be made alone, so far as white companions were concerned. Mbango, a chief or head-man among the Corisco people, was engaged to accompany me, to introduce me to a friend of his, an influential king on the Muni.

We set out in Mbango's canoe on the 27th of July. The canoe was hewn out of a single tree, and, though narrow, was commodious and safe enough for so rough a journey.

My crew consisted of twelve black fellows, besides Mbango, all armed with guns. I foresaw that, from the dread all the coast natives have of the cannibal tribes, I should have difficulty in carrying all my baggage. I therefore determined not to encumber myself with supplies of provisions or any thing else that could be spared. My outfit consisted only of the following articles: A chest containing 100 fathoms of prints, 19 pounds of white beads, a quantity of small looking-glasses, fire-steels and flints, a quantity of leaf tobacco. In addition to which came my greatest dependence, viz.: 80 pounds of shot and bullets, 25 pounds of pow der, and my guns.