A Journal of a Tour in the Congo Free State | Page 8

Channel to ultra marine at Teneriffe, was now of a fine amber
tint. As yet land was not in sight; it was comparatively cool and a slight
breeze was blowing. About midday the low lying coast of Central
Africa became visible as a dark line and half an hour afterwards a
simple break could be seen in this line which was the clearly defined
mouth of the Congo. On reference to the chart it became clear that
although the lower Congo forms a delta in some places twenty miles in
width, all the streams coalesce and flow through an opening not more
than five miles wide. On both sides the coast is low lying and well
wooded.
As we approach nearer, the northern point resolves itself into the
extremity of a peninsula, for one branch of the river turns northward
thus leaving a strip of land a few hundred yards wide. We pass through
the mouth of the river, thread our way between several buoys, turn up
this northern channel and arrive at an anchorage in which eight or nine
small ships are riding. As we take up our position a boat leaves the
shore flying the Congo Flag, a blue ground with a golden star in the
centre. Soon after we go ashore in a dug out. propelled by Kru boys to
the town of Banana, which is built on this sandy peninsula and is thus
guarded by sharks on one side and crocodiles on the other. We land at a
wooden pier used chiefly for loading canoes. On each side are
magnificent palms, some being more than fifty feet high and all bearing
many cocoa nuts at this season about half ripe. These palms are not
indigenous, but flourish here. The main highway of Banana is a path of
clean yellow sand about ten feet wide, shaded by an avenue of these
palms and crosses at intervals small tidal streams by rustic wooden
bridges. Many tropical trees and shrubs grow on each side of the
avenue, and in the bright sunshine the whole forms a very beautiful
picture. It is unfortunate that the effect reminds one somewhat forcibly
of a transformation scene of a pantomime and thus appears artificial
although in reality, it is absolutely natural. The resemblance is still
further strengthened by the numerous ladies of the ballet who leisurely
stroll along clothed in nature's ebony black. No one seems to know the
origin of the name of the town, for the Banana palm is not found here at
all.

At the extreme end of the point, and extending inwards for several
hundred yards, are the grounds of the Dutch Trading Company, which
has been established here for more than fifty years and ships many of
the products of the country. The wooden sheds painted white are very
picturesque amid the vivid green foliage. Beyond this area is the house
of Dr. Carre, the Commissaire of the District of Banana, which like all
the other houses in the town is raised on piles above the level of the
sand, for the double purpose of ensuring a current of air beneath and of
keeping it dry when the peninsula is flooded. It faces the sea and
behind is a small garden in which are many meteorological instruments.
Among these are an anemometer slowly revolving in the light air,
maximum and minimum bulbs in the shade, on the ground and beneath
it, a most ingenious sun dial, and a heliometer. Walking inland along
the central avenue, we pass some native shops, one of which bears the
interesting name of Williams Brothers. In many of the verandahs,
native women wrapped in highly coloured cloths but with bare feet and
legs, are working sewing machines or tending their children. Further on
is a space laid out in regular squares, in each of which is a well built
wooden house raised on piles, and an ornamental garden, the flower
beds being bordered either with sea shells or with glass bottles pushed
neck downwards into the sand, leaving about two inches projecting
above the surface. A little further on is an hotel facing the sea in which
is apparently poor accommodation and not much to eat or drink.
Beyond this is the native village, consisting of square huts and rough
gardens in which some potatoes seem to be growing in spite of the soil
and temperature.
Only about twenty Europeans live at Banana and their chief excitement
is the arrival of the steamer. Most of them indeed came off to dinner
and held a kind of concert in the saloon afterwards. All night long
winches and men were creaking, groaning, and shouting, as some of the
cargo was put overboard into two large lighters. It was not however,
destined for Banana and was transshipped