It
is an incredible state of affairs, so insolent, so magnificent in
its impertinence, that it would be humorous, were it not for its
background of misery and suffering, for its hostage houses, its
chain gangs, its _chicottes_, its nameless crimes against the human
body, its baskets of dried hands held up in tribute to the Belgian
blackguard.
III
THE CAPITAL OF THE CONGO
Leopold's "shop" has its front door at Banana. Its house flag is a
golden star on a blue background. Banana is the port of entry to the
Congo. You have, no doubt, seen many ports of Europe--Antwerp,
Hamburg, Boulogne, Lisbon, Genoa, Marseilles. Banana is the port of
entry to a country as large as Western Europe, and while the imports
and exports of Europe trickle through all these cities, the commerce
of the Congo enters and departs entirely at Banana. You can then
picture the busy harbor, the jungle of masts, the white bridges and
awnings of the steamers. By the fat funnels and the flags you can
distinguish the English tramps, the German merchantmen, the French,
Dutch, Italian, Portuguese traders, the smart "liners" from
Liverpool, even the Arab dhows with bird-wing sails, even the steel,
four-masted schooners out of Boston, U.S.A. You can imagine the
toiling lighters, the slap-dash tenders, the launches with shrieking
whistles.
Of course, you suspect it is not a bit like that. But were it for
fourteen countries the "open door" to twenty millions of people,
that is how it might look.
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