asongo the captain came to me and said, "I see two
Americans standing on the bank. Shall I take them aboard?"

Almost before I could say that I would be delighted, we were within
hailing distance of the post. An American voice with a Cleveland, Ohio,
accent called out to me and asked my name. When I told him, he said,
"I'll give you three copies of the _Saturday Evening Post_ if you will
take us down to Dima. We have been stranded here for nearly three weeks
and want to go home."

I yelled back that they were more than welcome for I not only wanted to
help out a pair of countrymen in distress but I desired some
companionship on the boat. They were Charles H. Davis and Henry
Fairbairn, both Forminiere engineers who had made their way overland
from the Angola diamond fields. Only one down-bound Belgian boat had
passed since their arrival and it was so crowded with Belgian officials
on their way to Matadi to catch the August steamer for Europe, that
there was no accommodation for them. By this time they were joined by a
companion in misfortune, an American missionary, the Rev. Roy Fields
Cleveland, who was attached to the Mission at Luebo. He had come to
Basongo on the little missionary steamer, "The Lapsley," and sent it
back, expecting to take the Belgian State boat. Like the engineers, he
could get no passage.

Davis showed his appreciation of my rescue of the party by immediately
handing over the three copies of the Post, which were more than seven
months old and which had beguiled his long nights in the field.
Cleveland did his bit in the way of gratitude by providing hot griddle
cakes every morning. He had some American cornmeal and he had taught his
native servant how to produce the real article.

At Dima I had the final heart-throb of the trip. I had arranged to take
the "Fumu N'Tangu," a sister ship of the "Madeleine," from this point to
Kinshassa. When I arrived I found that she was stuck on a sandbank one
hundred miles down the river. My whole race against time to catch the
August steamer would have been futile if I could not push on to
Kinshassa at once.

Happily, the "Yser," the State boat that had left Davis, Fairbairn, and
Cleveland high and dry at Basongo, had put in at Dima the day before to
repair a broken paddle-wheel and was about to start. I beat the
"Madeleine's" gangplank to the shore and tore over to the Captain of the
"Yser." When I told him I had to go to Kinshassa he said, "I cannot take
yo