Once Upon the Congo

by Chap Harper

  “Yes, Emily Dickinson, go for it.”

  “The floor of the Congo shines green and blue at night

  They call it chimpanzee fire, but that’s not right

  Some fungus and mushroom and stuff glowing in the dark

  They eat what falls on the ground gobbling like a shark

  It’s pretty to see, like jewels all aglow on the jungle floor

  Don’t lie down after sunset cause they’ll eat everything and a little more

  The chimps and monkeys are not to blame

  It that damn jungle, it’s impossible to tame.”

  “Really clever poem. Do kids say damn?” John asked.

  “Most of the kids I know back in Texas learn ‘shit’ right after they master ‘mama’ and ‘dada.’”

  ‘Fuck’ works its way in somewhere between the third and fourth grade,” Vikki said.

  “Are you okay after today?” John asked.

  “I was scared to death, and I still am.”

  She hesitated, and her voice cracked, and tears swelled in her eyes. “I’ve never seen anyone killed before. I hate that they died. They belong here—we don’t.”

  John took her in his arms and hugged her while she cried. He kissed her and blotted the moisture below her eyes with his red bandana.

  “Vikki, I love you and your tender heart. None of us wanted to shoot the pygmies. We didn’t have a choice.”

  “John, I love you so much. I didn’t know this trip was going to be this hard. I want us to be back home in a bed—making love—in our house—married. I want to have a baby with you.” She kissed him long and hard.

  “Dear, we’ll do all those things. I love you, too—probably even more.” He kissed her again.

  “John, why does it always have to be a competition?” She laughed and kissed him softly.

  John and Vikki stayed and admired the glowing fungi for a short while and then walked back to their tent.

  Late morning of the next day, the island became visible, huge with towering cliffs at the center. They hiked almost a half-hour to the river bank directly across from the east end of the island where the land was level with the water. Sony had purchased a few inflatable four-man rafts and foot pumps for getting across to the island. John took turns on pumping duty and was glad he didn’t have to carry the rafts during the expedition. There was a good chance they might use them to go back down stream instead of hiking. Small plastic paddles were furnished with the boats, but they wouldn’t help much in a strong current.

  With most of the gear left on the bank of the river, the first boatloads of the group crossed the fast moving stream. Although they didn’t land exactly where they had planned, the crossing was easier than expected. The rubber rafts then returned to the river bank opposite the island, picked up the gear and the rest of the expedition and made it back across. After securing the rafts they started up the steep cliffs. At times they would have to take off their backpacks and pull them up afterwards with ropes. Once everyone was assembled on the top of the bluff, they climbed another, less steep bluff to reach to the forested area.

  John and Vikki agreed with the old journal that the trees were so close together, most likely they had been planted many years ago. Some of the men scouted around to see if there was a trail through the jungle, but no one could find an opening. Therefore, the expedition members started cutting and squeezing through any opening they could find. This process went slowly, sometimes requiring backpacks to be taken off and pulled through an opening in the trees. Deeper into the forest, the trees were not as thick, since sparse sunlight retarded the growth quite a bit. Using compass readings, they pushed on for nearly an hour.

  Suddenly, everything was murky as though darkness had fallen in front of them yet daylight remained behind them. They could see a ring of tall, wild date palms surrounding a black lava stone wall that was excellently crafted. John knew the gate would be nearby. The group walked several hundred yards and came to an open set of ironwood doors about twenty feet tall. The doors appeared to be in good condition. All the expedition members stood at the entrance of the quarry, staring in amazement.

  Chapter 8

  The Quarry

  The group of explorers gazed all around the enclosure, focusing on the beautiful blue hole situated almost dead center. A deep blue color surrounded by green soil almost hurt the eyes with such a burst of bright hues. Beyond the loud blues and greens were piles of orange and silver colored soil. One area was entirely black with no vegetation growing on it—yet bones were scattered over the surface.

  A peculiar stone structure sat at the northern shore of the blue hole. It was made of stone blocks and had originally had doors and windows, but now they were sealed with the same type stones. The roof sloped down towards the water and formed a porch where three stone columns supported it. Steps led down into the water from a sealed door.

  Everyone moved into the enclosure and walked towards the stone cottage. It was then they noticed the snakes. A low hissing sound caused everyone to freeze and check the proximity to the serpents. It seemed they were everywhere and most were venomous types such as forest cobras, boomslangs, twig snakes, Gabon vipers, and a few green mambas. So many small animals came to the watering hole it was a feasting table for the snakes. Machetes were quickly employed to cut up the snakes, but the burrowing asps dug in before they could be killed. The natives dug them up and chopped them apart.

  After machetes put an end to the snakes, John, Vikki, and Marc set out to survey the mineral deposits. A black spot among the orange soil towards the north part of the quarry alarmed them. Maybe twenty feet across, the black spot had no vegetation, and bones lay both on and near the surface. Marc and John looked at each other and in unison said, “Pitchblende.”

  High grade uranium that was sixty to seventy percent pure had been found only once in the world. That ore, from the Congo, was used in the first atomic bomb dropped on Hiroshima at the end of World War II. Proximity to the black surface sent John’s Geiger counter to the maximum. Immediately they marked off the area with sticks so no one would accidently take a damaging dose of radiation. The orange ore was a good grade of ore as well, but not really toxic.

  Besides the kimberlite and coltan ores, another section of the compound had quartz outcroppings containing small veins of gold. The three geologists took and tested many samples. Additional findings included copper, iron, bauxite, and several other ores. Most were not rich enough to pay for the cost of mining them.

  “This place is a freak of nature to have such a collection of minerals. There is a town in Arkansas called Magnet Cove that has dozens of minerals in one small location, but none of them are minable ores like the kimberlite and uranium here,” John said not able to contain his excitement.

  “John…Marc…do you see the masks and stuff on the walls?” asked Vikki.

  “What in the hell are they doing there?” asked John

  Closer inspection also revealed shields attached to the walls and handmade dolls not unlike voodoo dolls John had seen in Haiti.

  “I do believe this place may be sacred to the natives, and if they catch us here, we will be in trouble,” Marc explained.

  “If I am correct, those are pygmy markings on the shields and masks, and judging by the amount of them a very large tribe may be nearby. I wonder if the pygmies are the ones who planted trees so close together to protect this spot,” said Marc, a native of the Congo, who had some knowledge about native customs.

  Sony directed the setting up of camp, after conferring with Marc about the possibility of a pygmy attack from atop the walls or through the front doors. Marc recommended the tents be placed some distance from the uranium ore and as far away from the walls as possible. They took shields from the walls and propped them up on the sides of the tents for protection from arrows and snakes that might strike at warm bodies inside of the tents.

  Once the tents were pitched and meals prepared, John, Vikki and Marc, along with a couple of native porters sta
rted removing the stones that sealed the front door to the cottage. A material similar to mortar or concrete sealed the doorway. After an hour of whacking away with rock picks and folding shovels, they cleared the doorway of rubble. Vikki was allowed to use the ‘ladies first’ rule and flicked on her flashlight to enter.

  “Wow…Jesus!…Look at this place!” she exclaimed.

  John, Marc, and Sony walked in behind her, and Jan stood at the entrance peering in as well. Stacked to the ceiling in one corner was a steam-powered compressor, a motorized shaker along with all kinds of mining equipment dating from the early 1800s. A circular metal entryway was in place in the center of the floor. A few feet away metal hoses led through the floor to the area below and appeared to be set up to pump in air. As much as the two porters tried to unscrew the sealed area the wheel would not budge; however they were able to slowly move the circular wheel a few inches with a metal rod Sony handed them. Sony stuck his head out the door and asked for his pack to be brought to him. He dug around in his pack and found a can of gun oil and applied a generous amount to the edges of the metal gangway.

  With some stopping and re-oiling the round door was freed. Four members of the crew pulled. Hissing air and foul smells met them in the face as the hinges opened. Vikki explored first using her flashlight and then her body as she found her footing on the metal ladder that led down to the next level. John followed and Marc was next. Sony stayed topside and had the crew cleaning and oiling the seals on the airtight door.

  The door was a design first used on reefer ships that carried ice all over the world for ice houses so frozen water could be used in the summer months, a luxury commodity enjoyed by those who could afford the high price of ice. The airtight door was designed to make the ice storage area totally insulated, and early submarines and warships used the same basic design. A large round rubber or leather ‘o’ ring and a center wheel, when tightened, pushed four metal bars towards the outside ring to seal the door. The door didn’t provide a very large opening, just enough for people to squeeze through. It was heavy and left the whole group wondering how it and the other equipment were carried to this location.

  Vikki, John and Marc explored the lower room first with their flashlights. They carefully picked up items and examined them with the beams of light. Soon they found oil lamps with wicks.

  “Lift up the glass so I can get to the wick with my lighter,” John said to Vikki. Eventually, after turning it over and letting the oil flow into the wick, it fired up, illuminating the room with a ghostly flickering flame. They found other lamps and lit them. Now the items in the room were taking shape. There were a couple of wooden chairs and sturdy tables perfect for holding the lanterns. Marc was walking across the room when he tripped over something—another airtight bulkhead door. The three geologists summoned Sony, along with the doctor to join in a heated discussion. Why was there an airtight compartment under the ground next to a blue hole in the middle of the Congo? , they mused. Jan said the compartment appeared to have been set up as a chamber to equalize pressure, so water would be kept out of the lower regions of the tunnel to make diving or mining possible. Everyone voiced an opinion on the purpose of the airlock, but all agreed the integrity of the seal should be kept intact. The group explored the room in search of journals or logs, but noted the room had been cleaned out when the previous occupants had abandoned the quarry.

  Sony instructed some of his men to start oiling the lower bulkhead door and gave strict orders to not attempt to open it just yet. The group went topside while the men worked oiling and cleaning both airtight doors. As they walked out into the fading sunlight they noticed the men had pulled the steam powered engines out of the cottage. A manufacture’s plate on the steam engine stated it was built by the Medhurst Company in London, England. The date of the patent was 1830 but didn’t nail down the date the engine was purchased and brought to the deepest reaches of Africa. Everyone believed it was carried in pieces and reassembled inside the enclosure. Speculation was several safaris and hundreds or even thousands of porters carried the equipment to the site. Jan recalled that Stanley lost 511 people on his expedition to rescue the Emin Pasha in 1887-88, and although he carried a steel boat and a Maxi gun, he would have lost many more men carrying this mining equipment. After checking patent stamps and plates on all the equipment, the latest date found was 1833. This would have been one of the earliest full scale expeditions to the Congo in history and apparently the most secretive, since there was no known record of the expedition anywhere. The only logical explanation shared by the group was no one survived to tell of the adventure.

  Vikki and John held hands and walked over to the front gates to marvel at the huge doors. A couple of the men were banging on the bronze hinges to free them of at least a hundred years of corrosion.

  “I wonder if the walls and doors were built before the expedition in the 1830s?” asked John.

  “I don’t think the expedition had the capacity to build this compound. It was built by an ancient civilization where hundreds of people worked for many years,” explained Vikki who minored in archeology and spent her summers on digs in Egypt.

  “I believe you are right, dear.”

  “I’m always right, my love,” she said, being cocky. They kissed for a minute then walked just outside the gate to look around. The distance between the line of palms and the wall was about fifteen feet and provided a good killing field for anyone trying to breach the wall from the tree line. Sony was building ladders to reach the top of the wall so he could post guards on both sides of the gate.

  “Excuse me a moment,” John said, pulling out his machete and cutting a forest cobra in half as it moved behind Vikki.

  “Could I interest you in a lovely pair of snake skin shoes?” He walked to the edge of the forest and pitched the dead snake into the underbrush.

  “Thanks, anyway. I usually wear them for brunch at my dad’s club. Hate for you to tote them all the way back to Texas.” She grabbed John and huddled next to him after he disposed of the big serpent.

  “Probably use rattlesnakes for shoes in Texas?”

  “Mainly cowboy boots. We eat ‘em too. Mighty good.” She was laughing as she took John’s hand as they walked towards the cottage.

  “Taste like chicken?”

  “Sort of fishy chicken. Maybe a cross between frog legs and alligator.”

  John realized that she had eaten several critters that he had never found on his plate.

  “Is there a restaurant in Texas where I can try all that stuff?”

  “We may have to go to two different ones, but I promise I will find all of them for you.” She smiled and kissed him slowly for a long time.

  Outside the cottage, the men were tinkering with the steam compressor. They primed it and pulled a rope that turned the crankshaft. It sputtered but refused to come back to life. More adjustments were made and more fire was used to heat the steam. Vikki sat down on a rock near the compressor so she could watch the men work and began a conversation with Jan and Marc, who were seated nearby.

  “I think that the stone wall could be 500 to 1000 years old,” she said nonchalantly.

  Both men agreed with her, but had she invited them to bathe naked in acid with her the horny guys would have agreed to that as well.

  “You realize that there are similar walls in Namibia which, many believe, was the city of a black king. It also dates back several hundred years,” Marc said.

  “I’ve seen pictures of it, and it’s really interesting. Didn’t some people think it was one of King Solomon’s temples?” Vikki inquired.

  “Yes, but according to most biblical scholars, King Solomon was way up in North Africa and never had any mines. You know if he was ever in West Africa this quarry could have been his,” Marc said.

  Vikki laughed. “It makes for a good story, but I prefer the movie version with Stewart Granger.”

  They talked a while, and Vikki left to go to her tent.

  When darkness fell, night gu
ard duty consisted of two men on the wall and one on the ground at the gates, to kill snakes as they came out of the jungle toward the camp. Tomorrow they would break the seal on the lower part of the tunnel below the second airlock. Vikki had trouble sleeping amidst the thoughts of what was hidden there and other things such as the smell in the tent. John had been on top of her and pumped hard but he had kept very quiet. Moans would project through to all the tent occupants around them. She felt he had tried to catch up on the lack of sex in the jungle. He was now snoring and apparently a happy man. Her issue was not with the sex, as she enjoyed it as much as John, but the raw smell of John and her own body was beyond a passable stench even for a Texas girl who ate frog legs, alligators, and rattlesnakes. Vikki thought about the beautiful blue hole. Tomorrow she would take a bath if she had to strip naked and jump in the blue hole in front of the whole crew.

  Chapter 9

  The Blue Hole

  In the early morning darkness, Vikki shook John. “Get up,” she whispered. “I want to take a bath in the blue hole.”

  “Are you kidding me? In front of all these horny men?” John desperately tried to wake up.

  Vikki dug around in her pack and found a small camp towel and a light weight blanket. She grabbed her change of clothes and unzipped the front of the tent. Since she and John slept commando style, they were naked as they exited the tent, but John stumbled into a pair of shorts that included his utility belt. Vikki wrapped the blanket around as much of her body as she could. As they walked toward the blue hole, few people were stirring. The guards on the wall were changing shifts on the wall, and the two men climbing down the new ladders were expected to go to their tents for some sleep. The main fire was burning a distance from the cottage and blue hole. John noticed one of the men putting branches on the burning pile of wood.

  Vikki walked to the front of the cottage and placed her change of clothes near the steps that led into the water. Quickly she pulled off the blanket, slowly walked down, and put her feet in the water. The light from the distant fire flickered across the compound, and revealed a lovely silhouette of her perfect body. Her long slender legs disappeared under the water, followed by curvaceous hips that melted into a slim waist. He could barely see the outline of her firm breasts.