nd
everything connected with the State, Commandant and Madame Sillye, Judge
and Madame Webber, and some others. Afterwards, Mr. Webber, the Judge of
the Court of Premiere Instance, who is an excellent pianist, gives us
proof of his talent. This is the last pleasant music we are fated to
hear for many a month, for nothing but concertinas and gramophones are
found in the interior.

[Illustration: THE CATARACTS RAILWAY NEAR MATADI.]

Having obtained bundles of permits to do various things, and arranged
for letters and parcels to be sent after us into the interior, we left
Boma on the morning of July 19th for Matadi in the _Leopoldville_.. The
Congo just above Boma somewhat resembles the Highlands of Scotland, and
the similarity was emphasised by the fact that it was raining hard.
The hills were bare of trees, the current ran rapidly, forming
whirlpools, while many sleepy crocodiles lazily flopped into the water
as we passed. After ascending some twenty miles, the river turns sharply
to the right and runs between cliffs which descend sheer into the water,
forming a narrow chasm not more than half a mile broad. As the whole of
the immense volume of water in the Congo has to pass through this gorge,
it is enormously deep and the current is very rapid. The depth has not
been accurately ascertained, but it is certainly 500 feet, if not more,
and the flow of the water is at the rate of nearly ten knots an hour, so
that the smaller steamers cannot ascend at all, and the larger only
creep slowly up.

[Illustration: THE RAILWAY STATION AT MATADI.]

Matadi is soon after in sight. It is built on the south side of the
Congo valley, for, as a glance at the map will explain, the State owns
both banks at this point, but further up, the river becomes the frontier
with the French Congo. Matadi is an ancient--if the word may be used in
connection with the Congo at all--settlement, constructed at the point
where navigation on the river is interrupted by cataracts and rapids for
some two hundred miles until smooth water is reached again at Stanley
Pool. A caravan route runs from Matadi to Leopoldville, and it was
during the march of twenty days over the mountains that in the early
days, so much trouble was occasioned by the native porters. All this is
abolished now by the railway. The town itself stands on the side of a
steep hill and consists of narrow streets paved with cobbles. Here as
usual in the Congo, man is restricted to his prime