After the third hour we
passed the "Fan Komba Vina," or village of King Vina. It stood in
a pretty little bay, and the river, some 400 feet broad, was
fronted, as is often the case, by the "palaver tree," a glorious
Ceiba or bombax. All the people flocked out to enjoy the sight,
and my unpractised eye could not distinguish them from Bakele.
Above it, also on the right bank, is the now-deserted site where
Messrs. Adams and Preston nearly came to grief for bewitching the
population with "bad book."
Five slow hours from Anenge-nenge finally placed us, about
sunset, at Mayyan, or Tippet Town. The depot lies a little above
the confluence of the Mbokwe and the Londo, or south-eastern fork
of the latter. A drunken pilot and a dark and moonless night,
with the tide still running in, delayed us till I could hardly
distinguish the sable human masses which gathered upon the Styx-
like stream to welcome their new Matyem--merchant or white man.
Before landing, all the guns on board the steamer were double-
loaded and discharged, at the instance of our host, who very
properly insisted upon this act of African courtesy--"it would be
shame not to fire salute.
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