Page:Travels in West Africa, Congo Français, Corisco and Cameroons (IA travelsinwestafr00kingrich).pdf/143

 swish huts of the Effiks, or the Moorish-looking mud ones you see round Cape Coast Castle, &c., and notably inferior to the exceedingly neat Dualla huts of Cameroons; but they are better than any other type of African house I have seen.

They are made of split bamboo with roofs of mats like the Effik roofs, but again inferior. I notice sometimes the sections of the walls are made on the ground and then erected. The builder drives in a row of strong wooden poles, and then ties the sections on to them very neatly with "tic-tie." The door and window-frames and shutters are made of plank painted a bright cobalt blue as a rule, but now and then red—a red I believe that had no business there, as it looks like some white gentleman's red oxide he has had out for painting the boats with.

Sometimes, however, instead of the sections being made on the ground of closely set split bamboos, the poles of unsplit bamboo are driven in, and the split bamboos are lashed on to them, alternately inside and outside, and between these are fixed palm-leaf mats. I suspect this style of architecture of being cheaper. Although there are a good many houses of both these types being erected on the hills round Glass and Libreville, I cannot say building operations are carried on with much vigour, for there are plenty of skeletons up, with just one or two sections tied in place, and then left as if the builder had gone on strike or got sick of the job somehow.

The stretch of broiling hot grass is trying, but interesting; some of it is intensely fine and a beautiful yellow-green, which I am told is gathered and dried and made into pillows. Some again is long lank stuff, carrying a maroon-coloured ear, which when ripe turns gold colour, and in either state is very lovely when one comes across stretches of it down a hillside.

On either side of us show wooded valleys like those we saw this morning; and away to the east the line of mangrove swamp fringing the little river we rowed up. Away to the west are the groves of mango trees round Libreville; mango trees are only pretty when you are close to them, prettiest of all when you are walking through an avenue of them, and you can see their richness of colour; the deep myrtle-green