It seemed so
much too good to be true that I may have expressed some doubt, for
he said: "Why, of course and certainly. Already this morning one was
at Sariski Station and another at Sipeto." And instead of looking
out of the window I had been reading an American magazine, filched
from the smoking-room, which was one year old!
At Thysville the railroad may have opened a hotel, but when I was
there to hunt for a night's shelter it turned you out bag and
baggage. The French officers decided to risk a Portuguese trading
store known as the "Ideal Hotel," and the missionaries very kindly
gave me the freedom of their Rest House. It is kept open for
those of the Mission who pass between the Upper and Lower Congo.
At the station the young missionaries were met by two older
missionaries--Mr. Weekes, who furnished the "Commission of Enquiry"
with much evidence, which they would not, or were not allowed to,
print, and Mr. Jennings. With them were twenty "boys" from the
Mission and, with each of them carrying a piece of our baggage on
his head, we climbed the hill, and I was given a clean, comfortable,
completely appointed bedroom. Our combined chop we turned over to a
black brother. He is the custodian of the Rest House and an
excellent cook. While he was preparing it my boys spread out my
folding rubber tub. Had I closed the door I should have smothered,
so, in the presence of twenty interested black Baptists, I took an
embarrassing but one of the most necessary baths I can remember.
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