The following is my translation of an article called: Im Okapirevier am Uelle. It appeared in a German popular science magazine, Kosmos Handweiser für Naturfreunde 1913, Heft 4, Seiten 145-149. The original article is kissed by several photos of outstanding beauty, so I'm keeping them to myself. Find your own. As was usual enough at the time for naturalists interested in rare and endangered species, Dr H Schubotz, the main author, was particularly anxious to admire the animals in their natural environment, and show his appreciation by gunning one (or preferably more) down.
I'm not aware of any previous translation.
Trevor Dykes.

In the okapi country on the Uelle.
His first great expedition to Central Africa in 1907/08 had already brought Duke Adolf Friedrich zu Mecklenburg an honourable place in the ranks of the explorers of the Dark Continent. It took the now Governor of Togo and a team of scientific specialists into the still barely explored regions between the Lakes of Victoria and Kiwu, in the northwest corner of our German East African Protectorate, led them through the volcanic area and the Central African Trench, and ended with a complete crossing of Africa. The Duke undertook a second great expedition in 1910 into the interior of Africa, as can be read in a two volume work, marvellously produced in all regards: Vom Kongo zum Niger und Nil, Berichte der deutschen Zentralafrika-Expedition 1910/11 von Adolf Friedrich zu Mecklenburg. Mit 512 bunten und einfarbigen Abbildungen nach Photographien und Zeichnungen, sowie mit 6 Karten (1912, Leipzig, Brockhaus, eleg geb., M20,-.)).
The expedition travelled through a significant part of the continent, and frequently through completely unknown or, until then, insufficiently explored districts and, as with the first expedition, sub-expeditions were undertaken with much care. In the resultant work, those who went with the Herzog as leaders of sub-expeditions report on their experiences and observations, and these various reports collectively build a whole, which is in a high degree both compelling and attractive.

The main expedition itself, under the Duke, travelled from the mouth of the Congo to Lake Chad; of the sub-expeditions, one went from the Congo through South Cameroon and on to the island of Guinea, while the second led east through the states of the Asande, and along the Uelle (one of the two rivers feeding the Ubangi) on to the Nile. The journey of the Duke has produced very valuable results; there are new gained understandings about routes through wide areas, and the processing of the ethnographic and zoological collections will be of great importance for science. It goes without saying that the okapi, a forest animal first discovered in 1900 in the northern part of the Congolese forests (Okapia johnstoni Ray Lankaster), is not missing from this collection, and Dr H Schubotz reports on the zoology of the expedition of the Uelle route, as instructed by the Duke. With the agreement of the publishers, we can provide our readers with the following chapter: Im Okapirevier along with three illustrations, and these come from the second volume of the report.

"Angu lies on the southern bank of the Uelle, a few days' journey upriver from Bando. As the journey over land via Likati requires about double the time to cover it, I decided, with some reluctance, once more for a journey by boat. This was more pleasant than I had expected, then the dug outs were large and spacious, the crew was excellent, and the scenery along the river was more attractive than any other I have seen in Africa.

At noon on 30th May we arrived in Angu. This small post, owned by a single white, lies right by the river bank on a felled area of the jungle. Its buildings are made only from mud and straw, and they do not inspire an impression of much trust, then it appeared to me as more than doubtful that they would offer protection against the rainy season. The chief of the post happened to be away on a business trip, and the supervision of the station had been entrusted to a black sergeant. Among his handful of soldiers was luckily one who mastered Kiswahili, so it was at least possible for me to make myself understood and talk to him. My knowledge of Bangala, spoken in the whole Uelle District as the first language of communication and trade, was then very poor.

I explained the objective of my journey to the soldiers, told them how much importance was attached to shooting an okapi, but that I also wanted other animals of the forest, whether large or small, and was ready to pay large rewards should such ones be brought in. It was with great joy that I discovered the okapi was well known there. They immediately recognised it from the photographs of specimens collected by Boyd Alexander, and provided its local name of Ndumbe. The next day, they already wanted to bring some men who had killed one. Two days later, a tall, thin Negro really turned up, Etumba Mingi, meaning the 'argumentative one' in German, and he was the young chief of a nearby village and had a reputation as being a successful okapi hunter. As evidence for this, he had brought a large kind of handled basket, and this contained some tough skin from an okapi and elephant which had been sewn together. I made it clear to him that I had to have an okapi in all circumstances. I was willing to give him a weapon, much powder, firing caps and lots of other beautiful things, should he want to bring such an animal into my possession. He replied that he knew where okapis could be found and wanted to do everything possible, but this hunt would be hard work and was not suitable for white men. The okapi moves aimlessly through the forest, one has to follow it for many days through thick and thin, through swamp and jungle, and Europeans would make too much noise. We may be able to shoot elephants and buffalo, which are stupid and allow themselves to be overcome, but not the shy and cautious Ndumbe, which always keeps itself far from human habitations. In short, he thanked me for my company. (Additional note: The thanks were for the company just past, and not for any future occasion!)

The man gave a very trustworthy impression, and everything he had told me was something I had already said myself after unsuccessful okapi hunts, which we had attempted during our first expedition with the Pygmies of the Ituri forest. However, I wanted to fulfil my greatest wish of being the first European to shoot one of these rare game animals; not to give up without trying. The periodically voiced rumours that a European has shot and okapi by his own hand have, so far, always turned out to be incorrect. But my wish was unachievable with Etumba Mingi. So I left him with the commission to hunt on his own, and send me a message urgently in case of success.

A few days after my arrival in Angu, the Chef de poste returned, Mr Andersson, a former junior officer in the Swedish Field Artillery and a military agent in the service of the Belgian Congo. He was very willing to meet my wishes, and immediately took measures to make my hunting easier.

Andersson recommended that I should use the small village of Chief Koloka as a headquarters, which lay some two days' march southeast of Angu, and offered to accompany me there so as to introduce me to the Chief. We reached Koloka on 8th June. The residents of the village are Mbatti, and they are a tribe belonging to the great Ababua people. The Mbatti are almost entirely hunters, they own no banana of cassava plantations. As with the Asande, it is the women who do all work on the fields and in the village. The men lie around for days on their wooden cots, smoke terrible tobacco or hemp in their large, wooden pipes, and drink great quantities of a young wine-like drink made from bananas. Were it not for the hunger for meat and Bula matadi -that is the native name for the government of the whole of the Belgian Congo- then these lucky Negroes would spend their whole lives on the cots and dream themselves away in dolce far niente. However, they are great lovers of meat. Slaughtering people is strongly forbidden and their only domestic animals, dogs and chickens, are not enough to still their hunger. Consequently, they now and then go hunting.

My host, Koloka, looked something of a fool. He wore an old European suit and hat. His large, round eyes varied from kindness, fear and concern, and constantly rolled here and there disquietly. Being concerned about me was his outstanding characteristic. Andersson made him know that he was responsible for my well being, and that had the result that Koloka never let me take a step without following, and that often made my hunting trips very wearing. On the day of our arrival, I also found the chiefs of the neighbouring villages were there. I explained my wishes to them with Andersson's help. I had to have all the animals that lived in the forest, above all a Ndumbe and a 'Bangana' Boocercus eurycerus, a jungle antelope as large, and almost as rare, as the okapi. I would pay well for what I was brought with cloth, salt, knives and mirrors, and with powder and firing caps for especially rare animals, and even with a gun for an okapi or a Bangana. After the subject had been introduced in this manner, Andersson left me the next morning so as to return to his post. And life became lively in my camp.

I remained for fourteen days in this jungle village, and collected more than a hundred mammals during that time. The most remarkable and rare animals, as unusual as the adventurous area of the jungle itself, were brought to me.

But the okapi still remained missing, and my chances of obtaining one looked small. Shortly after my arrival at Koloka's, a Congolese soldier, Koki, arrived earlier than expected, whom Commander Bareau in Bondo had recommended as an excellent hunter. He should have accompanied me from Bondo. But, on the day before my departure, his wife had been attacked by a crocodile whilst fetching water from the Uelle, drowned and was presumably eaten. Luckily, Koki had four wives, so the loss was not all too upsetting. Nevertheless, he searched unsuccessfully for the body for a number of days. With this man, a personification of strength and skill, I roamed the jungle in the vicinity of Koloka from early until late.

The forest in which the okapi lives is presently, as with many other areas of the equatorial jungle, extremely difficult to move through. Elephant and buffalo tracks provide the only possibilities for leaving the narrow native paths between the isolated villages, so as to penetrate into the inner forest. Fallen tree trunks, thick, large leaved undergrowth, thorns, vines, swamp, swollen streams are incessant obstacles. One works oneself forward in the literal sense of the word, climbing, creeping or often up to the shoulders in water. And then there is the humid temperature forcing the sweat from every pore, the dull, rotten steam rising from the thick humus layer of the ground and, over time, the endless monotony of the evergreen sea of leaves to depress one's spirit. In short, a trip into this forest is sufficient to rob even the fittest of men of their breath. The far carried precision weapon is of no help here, and the strong magnification of a prism glass serves no purpose. One must be as near as ten or, in helpful conditions, twenty metres of game in order to recognise it, and what works well enough are the strong Mobatti spear or a large lead bullet shot from the percussion weapon of the natives, the fusil à piston. The only thing I carried back from these trips was an ever increasing sense of hopelessness, and this finally ended with the sad certainty, that I would never achieve my objective of killing as okapi with my own hands.

My health was far from what it had been. The cold and damp nights, spent within the thin walls of my tent, were making themselves felt unpleasantly, the first thick mists of noon and the frequent rainfall, which even changed the jungle into a swamp during the dry season, all this gnawed at me along with the tortures of forcing my exhausted body through the forest. A cold led to an outbreak of a fever that had lain latent for some time, and I had to spend ever more days in bed.

So finally, as with all my predecessors, I was also entirely dependent upon the help of the native hunters. However, so far, they had always failed. Evening after evening they returned from unsuccessful hunts. The rubber harvesters had scared the okapi away, it was said, or the hunters had wounded an animal but it had escaped. Their powder had run out, and they must have more in order to kill it. Powder, powder, powder was as enticing for them as the okapi was for me.

Finally, a change occurred. As, on the evening of the 18th June following a feverish day spent in bed, wrapped in my coat as I sat in front of my tent, a messenger arrived, breathless from a long run, and brought me the news that Etumba Mini had shot an okapi.

"Is it dead?" I asked, as I was used to hearing that it was wounded but had run off.

Yes, it is dead and lying over four hours from my camp in the middle of the thickest jungle. I immediately roused my people, explained to them how important it was for us all to obtain the skin and skeleton in good condition, and ordered a preparator and one of the soldiers Andersson had left with me, to set off on that evening for the okapi. If it was still fresh when they found it, then they were to bring it back to the camp come what may, and find the necessary porters from local villages. I was burning with ambition to see this rare animal and to get a good photographic image. That had previously never happened. Apart from the previous photographs of a live young animal, all other pictures of okapis are of stuffed animals. Therefore, despite great weakness, I set out on the next morning in an effort to reach the place of the deed. But I already met porters recruited by the soldiers, more than thirty, while underway, and they would have sufficed to have transported a complete buffalo. The preparator had removed the skin and dissected the skeleton. My hope of taking a photograph of the whole animal was thwarted. But my joy at possessing a complete okapi, and thereby having fulfilled the greatest wish of the Duke, was greater than my disappointment.

This did not end my work in Angu, then the wealth of this forest in animals of great scientific interest appears endless. Even if rarer, I received evidence for this almost daily. One of my most valuable specimens, after the okapi, was the striped forest antelope known there as Bangana (Added note: the bongo.), a reward for which I had also placed upon its head. The skin of the okapi had just been prepared and recovered (see Illustration 1), when the people of the nearby Asande Chief Mussumba brought me such an animal. While it was not an adult, it was a young male, it was a beauty the size of a Roe deer with a very lovely fur. While I was staying with Koloka, I had expressed the wish of getting second specimens of these rare animals, the okapi and the Bangana, for the Hamburg Museum. However, there then occurred something which caused me to suddenly break off my collecting activities with Koloka.

One evening, a messenger from Angu appeared after a hurried journey. He had travelled this some 50km long path in a day, having been sent by the black sergeant, to inform me that Andersson was badly ill and had shot at his boys in his fevered delirium. The message shocked me greatly. When I had met him, this man was renowned for being so acclimatized to Africa, that he was able to stay free of fever without regularly taking quinine. And now, only a couple of weeks later, he was in the greatest danger. I immediately searched for porters from the surrounding huts and, as twenty were gathered on the next morning, we went as quickly as possible. I felt too weak to manage the whole stretch in one day by foot. My cot was lashed to two strong poles and, carried by twelve men in rotation, we left at a marching pace along the narrow, forest path. By 5 in the evening I was, fevered and exhausted by the long and uncomfortable journey, back in Angu. During the entire march, I naturally had to wonder whether Andersson would recognise me again, or whether he might open fire on me with the revolver.

Andersson seemed to have passed the dangerous crisis, but he looked extremely weak. He was very concerned regarding my opinion about his deed, and I could only convince him with much difficulty that he had done nothing as an act of violence, but rather it should be seen as a symptom of a fever. I did everything I could to bring him physically and emotionally back into order, and it was precisely the latter which proved the most difficult. The loneliness in Angu -I was the first white he had seen in seven months, and only the second in a year- and much trouble with his underlings had left him embittered, mistrustful and most excitable, and this lonely life and a lack of sleep, one of the most widespread evils in Africa, had weakened his capacity for resistance. I recognised that I could not leave Angu without putting his life in danger until a replacement man for him had arrived. I described the situation and its urgency in a long letter to the chief of the zone in Buta, explained that Andersson needed replacing and, indeed, the replacement was actually there after only eight days.

Fortunately, my collection was progressing well. I had my people, who had remained with Koloka, follow on, and then sent them to the area around Angu, meaning within a circle of four to six hours range, to hunt. And it was again the indefatigable Etumba Mingi who fulfilled my hopes of a second okapi and a second Bangana. I felt just about well enough to undertake a trip into the forest when the news arrived, that this excellent hunter had shot a second striped antelope. I immediately sent a preparator to the place, so as to take possession of the animal, and followed on an hour later with the photographic apparatus.

After three hours, I had reached the village near to where the Bangana had reportedly been killed, and then spent two hours searching around in the forest without finding a trace of the shooter or his prize. Our calls and my shots received no answer. The sun grew rusty, and with that disappeared the possibility of taking the desired photograph of this rare game. I had to turn back with these things undone. Following much aimless wandering, we eventually found the village, and I arrived back in Angu, tired and defeated, at eight o'clock in the evening. A flask of cold tea and a bar of chocolate had again replaced my midday meal. But at least the prize had not been lost. Twelve strong men carried the Bangana into the post at midnight and, with the help of a few soldiers and labourers, we were able to prepare the valuable skin during that night. Almost exactly the same events repeated themselves a few days later -but with a pleasing variation- with the second okapi.

It was just before sundown and the rain was streaming down. Another attack of fever on the previous evening is reason why I had not gotten up in any great hurry. I was driven out of bed by an announced message: Etumba Mingi has shot an okapi! I did not known at that moment how my so far unfulfilled hopes, of seeing and photographing this animal, could work out, as the sky looked like lead and the rain pelted down in the quantities of some November days in Germany. The paths of the post had already been transformed into ankle deep mud, to say nothing of the swampy jungle. I myself felt physically weak, and was only held upright by my joy and excitement about the new prize.

Andersson came to my aid. He sent four soldiers and twenty labourers and ordered them, under all circumstances, to carry the okapi to the next village nearest to its finding place. I was to go there, when the rain had stopped, and finally obtain the valuable picture. But the rain did not stop until the afternoon and, despite all my hurry, the Sun was going day when I finally reached that village. There was nothing to be seen of the okapi, and not to be heard, not even the sounds of an approaching transport. Hurriedly, I searched the few huts for a guide, finally found a young chap and, as he maintained that he knew the forest, I followed him. But the swamp and thick growth held us up, and I was soon convinced it was pointless to press further in. The Sun had already sunk so low as to leave the forest half dark, and hardly to allow for a photograph. Besides, I could only have found a dry area with great difficulty on which I might have arranged the animal into a favourable position.

I decided to wait in an abandoned banana plantation and sent just my people forwards to search for the okapi, and encourage the porters to their utmost efforts. They did not manage to find the spot during half-an-hour or so, and again, it had all been pointless. One anxious minute stretched after another. It was half-past-five and, on this day as with all days, the light would disappear at six. Finally, dull noises of shouting could be heard in the distance, the complaining of Negro voices. There was no doubt this was because they were carrying the okapi. No similar noise would have otherwise have broken the silence of the immeasurable forest at that hour.

Finally, the column emerged from the green background and was in front of me. Tied by its legs to a young tree hung an animal as large and heavy as an average horse, and fifteen struggling, spluttering blacks were carrying it from in front and behind, conducted by the swearing soldiers. I will not deny that this image of the dead animal caused me some excitement: its powerful dark brown body, the proportionately long neck, the black-brown 'donkey' ears over the grey face with the long giraffe tongue hanging down, the death stare of the large dark eyes, and the long, beautiful black and white striped legs. I hurriedly took a number of photographs from all angles so as, despite the semi-darkness, to be entirely sure that at least one worked out. E M Heims painted a living okapi based on the photograph reproduced in Illustration 2 which, for the first time, shows the okapi in its own poise. One of the two specimens of Okapia johnstoni obtained by the expedition is now displayed in the Senckenberg Museum in Frankfurt.

I was overcome with small satisfaction after this experience, comparable to that felt by the mountaineer after taking in the beautiful landscape from the summit of a previously unclimbed mountain. Somebody else will come after him and do the same, and perhaps do it better, but he was nevertheless the first."

An index of more of my translations of old Kosmos articles can be found at:

Kosmos Translations Archive

A number of Mesozoic (and post-Mesozoic) location summaries can be found at Localities.