In November 1485, midstream of the Congo River, more than a thousand miles from the great river’s mouth lay Gombe Matadi. In the Congo language, this na ans "walking in the land of rocks."
The tumultuous rapids rushed down from the highlands above, battering the steep riverbanks and scouring the dense rainforest. White pelicans flapped their wings, soaring up and down the azure river, hunting for plump fishes. Swarms of black mosquitoes buzzed and whirled, clustering in the blue sky, following the scent of blood. Farther off, a hazy mist rose and wound around, while the unbounded jungle shaded the sun, and no trace of civilization was to be seen, only untouched wilderness.
At this mont, three caravels were making their difficult journey upstream toward the East, making use of the slight westerly winds amidst the raging rapids. The flagship at the fore was slightly larger, and the high mast bore the flag of the Portuguese Royal Family. Several curious birds, drawn to the slow-moving vessels, chased the ships and circled the masts.
The captain, Diogo Cao, was pale and morose. He sat motionless in the captain’s quarters at the stern of the ship, like a silent statue. Even in the heat of the tropics, he was wrapped in a thick woolen blanket. From ti to ti, the "statue" would tremble slightly, emitting a few suppressed coughs.
In front of the "statue" lay a scroll of parchnt. Next to the parchnt were an ink-dipped feather, a crude protractor, and a pair of parallel rulers used for navigation. The parchnt was covered with curving lines, precise lines of latitude, blurry lines of longitude, and densely-packed Portuguese annotations. Clearly, this was a recently drawn navigational chart.
To the north on the map lay the starting point of the voyage, the Capital City, Lisbon. In August of the previous year, the Portuguese fleet had sailed from Lisbon, heading southwards, passing the Madeira Islands, Canary Islands, Cape Verde Islands, crossing the Gulf of Guinea, approaching the Gold Coast, and finally reaching the newly constructed Elmina Castle in this year’s spring.
At Elmina Castle, the fleet divided. Two-thirds of the ships and the majority of the soldiers were stationed at the castle’s harbor under the command of Sir Dias.
Sir Dias was to lead the over six hundred sailors and soldiers aboard the ships to subdue the nearby indigenous tribes. The Royal Family’s orders were explicit: gold, gold, and more gold! They were to scour the surrounding villages, plundering precious gold, capturing strong slaves to be put to work in the gold mines around Elmina Castle.
Captain Diogo continued southward with five caravels. He navigated the difficult doldrums of the Equator, losing one ship, and once more reached the wide rivermouth of the Congo River. Then, the turbulent river, the endless rainforest, and the swarming mosquitos appeared before them once again. Seeing this, the sailors who survived the previous expedition cried out in terror, whispering "the land of the Demon."
Diogo was not afraid. His expression grim, he personally hanged the most vociferous sailor at the bow of the ship. Then, holding a Silver Cross gifted by an old friend, he prayed devoutly to the Lord before leading the fleet without hesitation into the rivermouth, toward the land of the Demon.
Under the scorching sun, the fleet sailed upriver for six to seven hundred miles. The land of the Demon was filled with dark-skinned pagans, sinister bloody altars, powerful native Kingdoms, and thousands of Tribal Warriors ard with iron spears.
Suppressing his murderous urges, Diogo t the Envoy of the King of Congo with a mild expression and exchanged gifts to show friendship. Then, two Priests from Lisbon and four Envoys disembarked from the fleet, accepting an invitation from the King of Congo to go to the Capital City Mbanza Kongo. There, they were to preach the doctrine of the Lord to King Nzinga Mbemba and seek to spread the glory of the Lord.
After brief resupplying, Diogo left the bustling native Kingdom. The crew continued up the Congo River, in search of the legendary land of abundance, the mighty Kingdom of Elder Yue. As the fleet ventured deeper, sightings of human habitation beca scarce, the jungle grew denser, and the power of the Demon grew stronger.
One robust sailor after another succumbed to the Demon’s Curse. They suffered from fevers and chills, had bloodshot eyes and tongues, and even bled from mouth and nose, covered in red rashes, they moaned desperately before dying. The number of sailors quickly dwindled, forcing the fleet to abandon another ship. Even Diogo himself occasionally suffered the alternating pains of chills and fever.
Facing such adversity, Diogo could only grit his teeth and endure, praying devoutly to the Lord and tossing the sick sailors into the swift Long River. Finally, he relaxed his stance and allowed the sailors to go ashore to plunder and slaughter a few tribal villages, unleashing their beastly desires, and then capturing so of the locals as ship’s crew.
Under Diogo’s steely resolve, the deadly route continued for another four hundred miles. The route transford into the freshly inked Long River on the map before him, flowing towards the mysterious and unknown East. The captain felt the clear call of the Lord’s voice, as though it were right before him.
With this thought, Diogo looked up slightly, peering through the small window of the captain’s quarters toward the birds atop the mast. The brave birds circled amidst the flags of the Royal Family, much like the irises of the cape, searching for a land to rest, chasing after the holy light.
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