ellow passengers, a Catholic priest
named Father Brandsma, courageously dashed in between the flying spears
and logs of wood and separated the combatants. This incident shows the
hostility that still exists between the various tribes in the Congo. It
constitutes one excellent reason why there can never be any concerted
uprising against the whites. There is no single, strong, cohesive native
dynasty.

Father Brandsma was one of the finest men I met in the Congo. He was a
member of the society of priests which has its headquarters at Mill Hill
in England. He came aboard the boat late one night when we were tied up
at Bumba, having ridden a hundred miles on his bicycle along the native
trails. We met the following morning in the dining saloon. I sat at a
table writing letters and he took a seat nearby and started to make some
notes in a book. When we finished I addressed him in French. He answered
in flawless English. He then told me that he had spent fifteen years in
Uganda, where he was at the head of the Catholic Missions.

The Father was in his fifth year of service in the Congo and his
analysis of the native situation was accurate and convincing. Among
other things he said, "The great task of the Colonial Government is to
provide labour for the people. In many localities only one native out of
a hundred works. This idleness must be stopped and the only way to stop
it is to initiate highway and other improvements, so as to recruit a
large part of the native population."

Father Brandsma is devoting some of his energy to a change in copal
gathering. This substance, which is found at the roots of trees in
swampy and therefore unhealthy country, is employed in the manufacture
of varnish. To harvest it the natives stand all day in water up to their
hips and they catch the inevitable colds from which pneumonia develops.
Copal gathering is a considerable source of income for many tribes and
usually the entire community treks to the marshes. In this way the
lives of the women and children are also menaced. The Father believes
that only the men should go forth at certain periods for this work and
leave their families behind.

Father Brandsma was the central actor in a picturesque scene. One Sunday
morning I heard a weird chanting and I arose to discover the cause. I
found that the priest was celebrating mass for the natives on the main
deck of the boat. Dawn had just broken, and on the improvised altar
several candles glea