fires and arrange their beds for the night. They sleep on mats or with
the whole body, and head also, wrapped up closely in rugs. Either their
feet or heads are always within a few inches of the fire and their
bodies radiate out like the spokes of a wheel. Until 9.30 p.m., however,
when all lights on the steamer must be put out, a ceaseless chatter
proceeds with an occasional angry discussion as the natives take their
meal of kwanga, fish, and any odd piece of meat they can procure. It is
a somewhat weird sight, the black forms showing dimly in the ruddy light
of the fires under the trees. The bell on the steamer rings the command
and everyone goes to bed, and then one appreciates the real silence of
the equatorial forest which one has heard about at home. Within a few
yards, hundreds of frogs commence to croak loudly and continue steadily,
with a few pauses to breathe, until daybreak. Hundreds of monkeys
screech shrilly in the trees and millions of mosquitoes hum steadily
within an inch or two of one's ears. All manner of animal cries are
heard in the forest and the hippos blow loudly as they rise to the
surface to breathe. As a matter of fact, the noise at midnight in the
forest, when every beast, bird and insect is busy hunting for food, is
greater than at any other time, and at midday only, one enjoys
comparative quiet when all the animal kingdom is asleep.

[Illustration: THE AMERICAN MISSION HOUSE AT LEOPOLDVILLE.]

One evening I went ashore with Chikaia for a stroll on the beach,
carrying only a gun. We soon found a number of ducks and as they had
never been fired at before probably, they were not scared away by the
noise of the gun, but kept wheeling round and round overhead affording
very easy shots. It would indeed have been easy to shoot them all. There
was, however, no reason to do so and having collected a couple or two to
make a welcome change from the daily goat of the steamer, we started