Two Maps so you can see why Hayes has arrived at a place called The Heart of Africa Mission. If you zoom in on the one showing the Welle river, you can see enormous stretches of white water.
February 8, 1914 – February 21, 1914
With fresh porters, Hayes made good time on the 50 miles between Aba and Faradje: “I did it in three days. good time in Africa with heavy loads.” This is lion country: lots of tracks, lots of spoor, lots of roaring, but the porters laugh mimicking the lion’s roaring. “This morning I was far behind the men, and a lioness emerged from the grass and sat on her haunches beside the road, looking like nothing more than a great Dane dog. I stopped and returned her stare, and after a time she galloped away.” The porters tell Hayes none of the lions in this area are man-eaters.
The great excitement for the Europeans at Faradje concerns an American elephant hunter named Pickering. The Belgian officers at the post invited him to a friendly game of chemin de fer. When Pickering learned that they had “combined against him,” first he shot the flagpole with his elephant gun. Getting no results from that display, he shot toward the door of the station, “and after a few shots they hurriedly tossed out his goods, money boxes, ivory and all.” Another pair of American elephant hunters, Pierce and Rogers, illegally shot an elephant in British territory and fled into Belgian territory where an over-zealous askari mortally wounded Rogers in the hip. Hayes believes the British government paid Rogers’ family $60,000 compensation as they had no jurisdiction in the Belgian Congo.
At the tumble down Catholic mission at Faradje missionaries teach their faith. “Naturally the people are wishful to add another god to their already numerous collection, especially one recognized by the superior musungus.” Hayes notes that “musungu” has two meanings for the the natives of this area: it denotes any white but also all strong intoxicants. He writes, “I wonder if there be any connection between these two?” (A friend just returned from Uganda says she was called “mzungu” there; “azungu” in Malawi.)
On February 10, 1914, his thirty-sixth birthday, Hayes records a travelogue of where he’d been on this date in previous years: “The last one was in Southampton, and I had little thought of being in the middle of Africa. The ones preceding were in Sydney, the Woodlark Islands, in New Guinea, Ellice Islands, NorthBend Oregon; at Little River, California; in Nigeria, at Seattle, and so on. One shifts about.”
After two hard days march with “a wild turbulent crew” of new porters who also mock the lions – and Hayes’ fear of the wild roaring – the caravan arrived at “a vast wooded plain, with forest galleries on every stream” where the natives beg Hayes to shoot the marauding “mbongos” (elephants). Based on the spoor, he estimates hundreds maraud in the vicinity but declines to shoot any – perhaps not properly armed. He notes, however, “Ivory is the chief export of this country, but the white hunters will soon exterminate the herds if left to shoot as they are doing now.”
We know from his notes that Hayes received at least one bite from a tsetse fly: “These insects are scarcely equal to an American or Australian horsefly in size. They alight without bing noticed, and have driven their proboscis deep before one realizes their presence. The bite is as painful as a red hot needle.” Like any European traveler in central Africa in 1914, Hayes necessarily adopted a certain stochastic resignation: “As few flies are infected with the germ of sleeping sickness, it is improbable any untoward happening will take place.” He never subsequently reported suffering sleeping sickness.
If he wasn’t particularly afraid of tsetse fly, Hayes’ approach to the Heart of Africa Mission and C. T. Studd filled him with foreboding: “I am drawing near my journey’s end and don’t like it. There is an insistent warning of evil to come that will not be denied.… This always happens when I fall into hard places.” In the center of the African continent what could one do with such a premonition but press on?
150 miles from Aba, after nine days “actual marching time,” Hayes and the safari arrived at the station at Dungu where the the Dungu and Kibali Rivers merge to form “the Welle, or Uele, as called by the Belgians. Later on the river becomes the Makua, then the Oubangui of the French, or plain Ubangi of the British. It is the great northern tributary of the Congo, and has a course of more than 2,000 miles.” This is territory of the Azanedes; “They are a warlike people, hate the Belgians and would drive the latter out if they could.”
On a windy hill “above the fever” on the north bank of the Dungu River, two white representatives of the Africa Inland Mission direct construction of a new mission station. “These men have recently been associated with Mr. Studd.” They say Studd quarreled with the American, Charles Hurlburt, who heads the Africa Inland Mission and “suggest I will find Mr. Studd difficult to get along with. This adds to my fears of strife to come, but it is too late now to remedy matters.”
Hayes had one last brief idyll before reaching Niangara and the Heart of Africa Mission. “The Chef De Poste gave me a large canoe and a crew of Bakango boatman, so for two days we have been poling down the Welle.” For the most part the men “dawdle and sing songs of the river.” But approaching a stretch of wild water they put Hayes off to walk the shore, “saying they would be held responsible if a white man was lost, whereas nothing would happen if it was merely one of themselves.” The reader gets the distinct impression that Hayes would rather have been aboard: “These wild Bakangos stripped themselves of their scant clothing and drove the canoe into the white water. Every man was crouched and yelling his best. All knew their work, for with poles they warded off every rock thrust up through the surge of foam, kept their craft headed into the main channel and finally out into the boiling maelstrom and on into quiet water below… Triumphant yells rose high when they floated again in safety.” (Welch, Conley, and Dimock cite Perkins as conversant with Buzz Holmstrom about African whitewater (incorrectly asserting Perkins made a small fortune mining in Africa) in The Doing of the Thing: The brief Brilliant Whitewater Career of Buzz Holmstrom.)
One more day watching crocodiles, hippos, and spur-winged geese while the boatmen loaf and sing before pulling into Niangara to be met by Buxton and Studd.