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The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Country of the Dwarfs, by Paul Du Chaillu.
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<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 48643 ***</div>
<p class="box">Transcriber's Notes:<br />
<br />
Blank pages have been eliminated.<br />
<br />
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<div class="figcenter"><a name="front"><img src="images/i_p001.png" width="470"
height="750" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
DU CHAILLU AND KING QUENGUEZA. [See p. 43.]
</div></div>
<h1>THE COUNTRY OF THE DWARFS.</h1>
<p class="p4 center">BY</p>
<p class="p2 center">PAUL DU CHAILLU,<br />
AUTHOR OF</p>
<p class="smcap center">"Adventures and Explorations in
Equatorial Africa," "A Journey
to Ashango Land," "Stories of
the Gorilla Country," "Wild
Life under the Equator,"
"My Apingi Kingdom."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><a name="first"><img src="images/ia_p01a.png" width="500"
height="391" alt="" title="" /></a>
</div>
<p class="center p2">
<i>NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS.</i></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/ib_p01a.png" width="160"
height="111" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<p class="center p2 ht">
NEW YORK:<br />
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,<br />
FRANKLIN SQUARE.<br />
1872.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p>
<p class="center p6 ht">
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by<br />
<br />
<span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>,<br />
<br />
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p>
<p class="p6">
<i>TO</i></p>
<p>
<i>FLETCHER HARPER, <span class="smcap">Esq.</span></i></p>
<p><i><span class="smcap">Dear Sir</span>:—I dedicate this volume to you, not
only as an acknowledgment of many kindnesses which I have
received from you during the years in which you have been
the publisher of my books, but also as a token of the personal
affection and esteem of</i></p>
<p><i>Your friend</i>,</p>
<p class="i2 smcap"><i>Paul B. Du Chaillu.</i></p>
<p class="p2 ht"><i>North Cape, Norway, August, 1871.</i></p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a><br /><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p005.png" width="450"
height="89" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5" summary="indice">
<tr>
<td class="tdr" colspan="2">Page</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">How Paul set out for the Country of the Dwarfs, and what he took
with him.</td>
<td class="tdrb">11</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">On the African Coast.—Meeting with old Friends.—Changes in
Four Years.—The Captain's Misgivings.</td>
<td class="tdrb">20</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Landing Goods.—Among the Breakers.—King Ranpano.—Loss of
Instruments.—King Quengueza.—A Palaver.—Changing Names.</td>
<td class="tdrb">31</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Honest Africans.—Distributing Presents.—Quengueza's
Diplomacy.—Another Palaver.—A new Settlement.—Rabolo's
Monda.—Ranpano's Superstition.</td>
<td class="tdrb">41</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Departure of the Mentor.—Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Chimpanzee.—Thomas
in London.—Left alone in Africa.—Departure from Plateau.—A
Tornado.—Nengué Shika.—Traces of Gorillas.—Nengué Ncoma.—King
Olenga-Yombi.—The Ipi.</td>
<td class="tdrb">52</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Hunting for the Ipi.—Camping out in the Woods.—Capture of an
Ipi.—Description of the Animal.—A new species of Ant-eater.</td>
<td class="tdrb">64</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Life at Nkongon-Boumba.—Gorillas and Plantains.—Odanga scared
by a Gorilla.—A captive Gorilla.—Superstitions respecting the
Leopard.</td>
<td class="tdrb">72</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Wounded Gorilla and her young ones.—Taking their
Photographs.—Tom and Minnie.—Arrival of my Vessel.—Hurra for
Baring Brothers.—A smoking Ship.—King Quengueza goes on
board.—Preparations for Journey.</td>
<td class="tdrb">80</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Down the River in a Canoe.—A strange Passenger.—Talk with a
Gorilla.—Landing through the Breakers.—Preparing to cross the
Continent.—The Departure.</td>
<td class="tdrb">91</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">A royal Welcome.—Departure from Goumbi.—The Story of Nchanga
and Enomo.—Ascending the Ovenga River.—A hostile Barrier
removed.—The Advice of Quengueza.</td>
<td class="tdrb">105</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Bustle in the Camp.—A magic Horn.—Quengueza's Idol.—A living
Skeleton.—Terrific Thunder-storm.—A Gorilla Family.—Stupendous
Cataract.</td>
<td class="tdrb">111</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">The Death of Remandji.—A singular Superstition.—Outbreak of the
Plague.—A touching Incident.—Dying off by Scores.—Death of
Olenda.</td>
<td class="tdrb">121</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Burial of Olenda.—A desolated Valley.—Suspicions
aroused.—Robbery.—Paul in perplexing circumstances.—Freeing
a Man from the Stocks.—Ravages of the Plague.</td>
<td class="tdrb">131</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Departure from Ashira Land.—A silent Leave-taking.—Thievish
Porters.—A cunning old Rascal.—Misfortune on
Misfortune.—Without Food in the Forest.—A desperate
Plot.—Feasting on Monkey-meat.—Out of the Woods.</td>
<td class="tdrb">139</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">In the open Country at last.—Interview with Mayolo.—Igala falls
Sick.—A Mutiny.—The Otando Prairie on Fire.—Return of Macondai
and Igalo.—Their Adventures.—All together again.</td>
<td class="tdrb">153</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Terrible Storms of Thunder.—Days of Anxiety.—Shooting an
Antelope.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span>—Brighter Prospects.—Mayolo has a hard time with his
Doctors.—Basket-making.</td>
<td class="tdrb">165</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Departure from the Otando Country.—Talk with Mayolo.—Living on
Monkey-meat.—Astronomical Studies.—Lunar
Observations.—Intense Heat.</td>
<td class="tdrb">173</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Saying Good-by.—A panic-stricken Village.—Pacifying the
People's Fears.—A tipsy Scene.—Majesty on a Spree.—Lunch by a
River side.</td>
<td class="tdrb">184</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Rumors of War.—Through a burning Prairie.—Imminent
Peril.—Narrow Escape from a horrible Death.—A lonely
Night-watch.</td>
<td class="tdrb">194</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">A Deputation from the Village.—A plain Talk with them.—A
beautiful and prosperous Town.—Cheerful Character of the
People.—More Observations.</td>
<td class="tdrb">199</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Great Excitement in the Village.—A deserted Town.—The
Inhabitants frightened away.—Afraid of the Evil Eye.—The Author
taken for an Astrologer.—Lost among the Plantations.</td>
<td class="tdrb">206</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">First Sight of a Village of the Dwarfs.—A strange and
interesting Spectacle.—An abandoned Town.—A Reverie beside a
Stream.—The Leaf, the Butterfly, and the Bird.—The blessing of
Water.</td>
<td class="tdrb">214</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Grotesque Head-dresses.—Curious fashions in Teeth.—A venerable
Granite Boulder.—Interior of a Hut.—A warlike race of
Savages.—Giving them an Electric Shock.</td>
<td class="tdrb">226</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Visit to a Village of the Dwarfs.—Walk through the Primeval
Forest.—An ancient Account of this strange Race.—A great
Ashango Dance.—A Watch and a tremendous Sneeze.—First View of
the Dwarfs.—Queer specimens of Humanity.</td>
<td class="tdrb">239</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Making friends with the Dwarfs.—A Surprise Visit.—A gorgeous
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>Feast.—Ridiculous Show of Babies.—The Dwarf Language.—A Dwarf
Dance.—The old Fable of the Cranes and the Pigmies.</td>
<td class="tdrb">252</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">A modern Traveler's Account of the Dwarfs and their Habits.—Where
and how they Bury their Dead.—Hunting for the Dwarfs.—How they
make their Huts.</td>
<td class="tdrb">265</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Traveling Eastward.—Measuring Heights.—Instruments used.—Reach
Mouaou-Kombo.—Apprehensions of the People.—Palaver with the
Chief.—An unlucky Shot.—Hostilities commenced.</td>
<td class="tdrb">274</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Retreat from Mouaou-Kombo.—The Attack.—Paul is wounded.—A
Panic.—The Fight renewed.—The Enemy re-enforced.—Lying in
Ambush.—The Enemy repulsed.—A poisoned Arrow.—Mouitchi
safe.—Death of the Dogs.</td>
<td class="tdrb">286</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Traveling Westward.—A Night in the Forest.—Paul's Speech to his
Men.—Their Reply.—The Retreat resumed.—Taking Food and
Rest.—Meeting with Friends.</td>
<td class="tdrb">301</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdch" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.</a></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl">Conclusion.—Return to the Coast.—Desolation of the
Country.—Fate of old Friends.—Reach the Settlement.—Departure
for England.—Au Revoir.</td>
<td class="tdrb">312</td>
</tr>
</table>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p008.png" width="200"
height="199" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p class="p6"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p009.png" width="450"
height="93" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
<table border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="5" summary="illustrations">
<tr>
<td class="tdr" colspan="2">PAGE</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#front">Du Chaillu and King Quengueza</a></td>
<td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece.</i></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#first">Sketch Map of part of Western Africa</a></td>
<td class="tdrb"><i>Title-page.</i></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#meets">Du Chaillu meets his old Friend Adjouatonga</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">22</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#ipi">Capture of the Ipi</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">67</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Gorillas">Photographing Gorillas</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">83</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Departure">The Departure</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">101</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Family">Surprising a Family of Gorillas</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">117</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#dead">Olenda is dead</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">129</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Nchogo">Prisoner in Nchogo</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">136</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Measures">Decisive Measures</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">146</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Macondai">Meeting with Macondai</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">159</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Antelope">Hunting an Antelope</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">167</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Basket">Otaitai, or Porter's Basket</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">171</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Taking">Taking an Observation</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">180</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Village">Apono and Ishogo Village</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">208</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Doors">Ishogo Houses, with Ornamental Doors</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">211</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Huts">Huts of the Dwarfs</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">216</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Head">Ishogo Head-dresses</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">227, 228</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Idol">African Goat, Chicken, Parrot, and Idol</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">231</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Ashangos">Shocking the Ashangos</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">236</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Dinner">Dinner with the Dwarfs</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">271</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Observation">Instruments for Observations</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">275</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Fight">The Fight with the Ashangos</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">289</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdl smcap"><a href="#Darkness">Friends in the Darkness</a></td>
<td class="tdrb">309</td>
</tr>
</table>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a><br /><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p011.png" width="450"
height="98" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2>THE COUNTRY OF THE DWARFS.</h2>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</h2>
<p class="center">HOW PAUL SET OUT FOR THE COUNTRY OF THE DWARFS,
AND WHAT HE TOOK WITH HIM.</p>
<p class="p2">I<span class="smcap">n</span> the month of July, 1863, if you had been in London,
you might have seen in St. Catharine's Dock a
schooner called the Mentor, a little vessel of less than
one hundred tons' measurement, and if you had gone on
board you would have encountered your old friend Paul
Du Chaillu busily superintending the taking of the cargo,
and getting all things in readiness for the voyage
upon which he is now going to take you.</p>
<p>Captain Vardon, the commander of the vessel, was
generally by his side, and I am sure you would have
been happy to make his acquaintance, for he was a very
pleasant man.</p>
<p>Every body was busy on board, either on deck or below
deck, storing away the goods. Boxes upon boxes
came alongside the Mentor from morning till evening.
These contained my outfit and the equipment necessary
for the expedition.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>
Paul Du Chaillu had an anxious look, and you need
not wonder at it, for he was about to undertake a journey
of explorations of about five years' duration, and had
to think of many things. It was, indeed, no small undertaking.
What an outfit it was! I will give you some
idea of it.</p>
<p>Clothing for five years was to be provided; the very
smallest article must not be forgotten, even to needles,
thread, and scissors.</p>
<p>It would never do again to be left without shoes, as I
was in Apingi Land, so I had seventy-two pairs of Balmoral
lace-boots made specially for journeying in the
great forest, with soles flexible enough to allow me to
bend my feet while jumping from rock to rock, or from
the base of one tree to another. Besides these lace-boots
I had twenty-four pairs of shoes and twelve pairs of linen
slippers. Twelve pairs of leggins were to protect
my legs from thorns, briers, and the bite of snakes; so
you see my feet and legs were to be well taken care of
in that journey, and for my further comfort I laid in
twelve dozen pairs of socks. I took so many because I
do not know how to darn socks, and when a pair became
full of holes they would have to be thrown away.</p>
<p>All my shirts were made of light-colored flannel; these
were more healthy than linen shirts, and, besides economizing
soap, it saved me from the necessity of getting
under-garments, and consequently allotted me space
which could be devoted to other articles.</p>
<p>With an eye to the great wear and tear of pantaloons,
I had ordered six dozen pairs made of the strongest
twisted blue drill that could be got. Instead of coats I
ordered two dozen blouses, made of durable linen stuff,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>
of a color not easily seen in the woods. The blouse was
a very convenient garment, admitting of numerous pockets,
in which I could keep many things while on the
march. Every thing was made for wear and not for show,
and to go through the thickest and most thorny jungle.</p>
<p>Several dozen pocket-handkerchiefs completed my
wearing outfit. Besides their ordinary use, these were
to be worn, generally wet, inside the three fine soft Panama
hats I had provided to protect my head from the
rays of a burning sun. No collars, no neck-ties were
necessary.</p>
<p>Clothes must be washed, so I took with me one hundred
pounds of the hardest Marseilles soap. That quantity
was not much, but then I would probably be able
some time to make my own soap with palm-oil.</p>
<p>Then came the drugs, and these gave me more embarrassment
than any thing else. If it had been only to
take medicines for myself, the matter would have been
simple enough. A compact little medicine-chest, with
an extra quantity of quinine, laudanum, and a few other
remedies used in tropical climates more frequently than
in ours, would have sufficed; but I had to think of my
followers and porters—a retinue that would sometimes
number five and six hundred—and accordingly I purchased</p>
<ul>
<li>75 ounce bottles of quinine.</li>
<li>10 gallons of castor-oil.</li>
<li>50 pounds of Epsom salts.</li>
<li>2 quarts of laudanum.</li>
</ul>
<p>These were the medicines which would be the most
needed; but, besides these, I had pretty nearly all the
drugs to be found at the apothecary's.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p>
<p>Of arsenic I took one hundred pounds, to preserve the
skins of animals and birds I expected to kill in my journeyings.</p>
<p>Most of these and my wearing apparel were packed in
japanned tin boxes, which would be serviceable afterward
for the preservation of my butterflies and stuffed
birds. Tin boxes were safer than wooden ones; the
white ants would not be able to pierce through them.</p>
<p>Though I did not set out to make war, I felt that I
ought to be prepared for any emergency. Besides, I was
to hunt, and I must have guns. After a great deal of
thinking it over, I came to the conclusion that, for such
a wild country, where I might get short of cartridges,
the greater part of my guns should be muzzle-loaders,
so I bought four splendid English muzzle-loaders, four
long muzzle-loading rifles, two very short smooth-bore
muzzle-loaders, and two very short muzzle-loading rifles.</p>
<p>Then I took a magnificent double-barrel breech-loading
rifle which could throw steel-pointed bullets weighing
more than two ounces. I had Dean and Adams's
revolvers, magnificent arms that never got out of order,
and several long, formidable hunting-knives.</p>
<p>These guns were for my own special use, and they
were supplied with moulds for making bullets, etc., etc.</p>
<p>Besides these, I had ordered in Birmingham two hundred
and fifty cheap guns for my body-guard and the
native king, to whom I might desire to give one. Most
of them were flint-locks, and of the pattern called the
Tower.</p>
<p>I had great trouble in knowing what quantity of ammunition
to take, for lead is heavy; but, then, what would
a man do in a savage country without powder and bullets?</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p>
<p>The great difficulty with rifle muzzle-loaders is, that
when the charge has been driven home the bullets can
not be easily withdrawn. So it is with the revolvers;
and a great deal of ammunition would be lost on that
account.</p>
<p>My ammunition consisted of 15,000 cartridges for my
revolvers, in soldered tin boxes of fifties; 15,000 bullets
for my guns and rifles, and lead for 20,000 more, for the
practice of my men before starting into the desert; 1000
pounds of small shot of different sizes, for birds; 400
pounds of fine powder; 50,000 caps. I also took 200
10-pound barrels of coarse powder for my body-guard
and to give away to my friends, or as presents.</p>
<p>So you see the warlike and hunting apparatus of the
expedition was very heavy, but we were to depend in a
great measure on our guns for food. Elephants, antelopes,
hippopotami, gazelles, crocodiles, and monkeys
would be our chief diet. Then came the scientific instruments:</p>
<ul>
<li>4 strong, splendid hunting-case watches, by Brock, London.</li>
<li>1 watch made by Frodsham, London.</li>
<li>48 spare watch-keys and 24 spare glasses.</li>
<li>3 sextants, 8, 6, and 4 inches radius.</li>
<li>1 binocular yachting-glass.</li>
<li>1 telescope.</li>
<li>1 universal sun-dial (a magnificent instrument).</li>
<li>1 aneroid.</li>
<li>2 compasses, prismatic, with stand, shades, and reflector three
inches in diameter, to take the bearings of land, etc., etc.</li>
<li><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>2 pocket compasses.</li>
<li>1 set drawing instruments (German silver).</li>
<li>2 dozen drawing-pens.</li>
<li>2 artificial horizons, folding roof, improved iron trough,
and bottles containing quicksilver, in sling case.</li>
<li>1 hypsometrical apparatus.</li>
<li>2 bull's-eye lanterns, copper boiler, three reservoirs for
spirits, oil, or candles.</li>
<li>3 thermometers for measuring heights and boiling water.</li>
<li>2 thermometers for the sun (to know its power).</li>
<li>2 thermometers graduated Fahrenheit and Centigrade.</li>
<li>1 thermometer graduated Centigrade and Reaumur.</li>
<li>1 powerful electro-magnetic machine, with 90 feet of
conducting wire or cord.</li>
<li>2 large magnifying-glasses.</li>
<li>7 pounds of mercury, in a bottle, as a reserve supply.</li>
<li>Parallel rule (German silver).</li>
<li>Protractor, circular, with compass rectifier, in a mahogany box.</li>
<li>3 rain-gauges and spare glasses, to tell the amount of
rain falling at a given time.</li>
<li>Scale, 18 inches, metal, graduated to inches, and
sub-divided to tenths and hundredths, in a box.</li>
<li>Tape, 100 feet, to measure trees.</li>
<li>75 sheets of skeleton maps, ruled in squares, to mark
out in the rough my daily route as determined by compass.</li>
<li>4 Nautical Almanacs, 1863, '4, '5, '6, to be used in my
astronomical observations; and several other scientific books.</li>
<li>12 blank books for keeping my daily journal.</li>
<li><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>10 memorandum-books.</li>
<li>10 quires of paper.</li>
<li>Ink, pens, pencils, slates.</li>
</ul>
<p>For illumination I provided 100 pounds of wax candles,
10 gallons of spirits (alcohol) for lamps, thermometers,
etc., etc.; 12 gross of matches in boxes, each dozen
boxes inclosed in a separate soldered tin box. Though
I had fire-steel and flint, the matches could light a fire
much quicker, and they were "big things" with the natives.</p>
<p>So you see I had a complete set of instruments, and
in sufficient number, so that in case of accident I could
replace the injured one; and accidents I knew were sure
to happen.</p>
<p>If I did not explain to you why I took five watches, I
am sure you would say that I was foolish to spend so
much money in watches. Then let me tell you that I
bought so many because I was afraid that if I took only
one or two, they might stop running, and in this event it
would have been impossible for me to know my longitude,
that is to say, how far east or west I might be, and
to ascertain the day and month, should illness have
caused me to forget the calendar. No watch can be
safely depended upon to run for five years in such a climate
without cleaning. But as four of them had been
made specially for the journey, I felt assured that at least
one or two out of the five would run till my return.</p>
<p>But we have not yet done with my equipment. There
were 18 boxes containing photographic apparatus, with
tent, and chemicals for 10,000 photographs. The transportation
of these alone would require twenty men.</p>
<p>All that I have enumerated to you constituted but a
small proportion of the things that came on board, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>
were for my special use, with the exception of the 250
common guns and a great part of the ammunition.</p>
<p>There are yet to be mentioned the presents for my old
friends, who had been so kind to me in my former journeys,
and whom I hoped to see again. These were the
chiefs whose hospitality I had enjoyed, and my dear
hunters Aboko, Fasiko, Niamkala, Malaouen, Querlaouen,
Gambo, dear old Quengueza, Ranpano, Rikimongani,
and Obindji, the Bakalai chief. Presents, too, were indispensable
for the people who were to take me from
tribe to tribe, and the right of way I knew would often
have to be bought. So more than two months had been
spent by me in the London clothing, hardware, and dry-goods
establishments, finding what I wanted.</p>
<p>I bought more than 5000 pounds of beads of different
sizes and colors, several hundred pieces of cotton goods,
some pieces of silks, coats, waistcoats, shirts, 2000 <i>red
caps</i>, a few umbrellas, files, knives, bells, fire-steels, flints,
looking-glasses, forks, spoons, some <i>stove-pipe</i> hats for
the kings near the sea-shore, straw hats, etc., etc.</p>
<p>Then, to impress the wild people with what I could do,
I bought several large Geneva musical boxes, one powerful
electrical battery, several magnets, and six ship
clocks, etc., etc.</p>
<p>The abundant results of the sale of my "Adventures
in Equatorial Africa," and the proceeds arising from the
disposal of my gorillas, and my collection of beasts, birds,
insects, and shells, alone enabled me to undertake this
new expedition, for not one dollar has ever been given
by any scientific society to help me in any of my travels
or explorations; but I was very happy in expending a
part of my means in the interest of science and for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
enlargement of our knowledge of unknown countries. I
only wish now I could have done more, but really I think
that I did the best I could.</p>
<p>Years had passed away since I had gone first to Africa,
my parents were both dead, I was alone in the world
and the world was before me, and I thought I could do
nothing better than make another exploration.</p>
<p>I had made up my mind, without confiding my purpose
to any one, to cross the continent of Africa near the
equator, from the west to the head waters of the Nile,
and to set out from the Commi country. I knew my
old negro friends would help me. That was the reason
my outfit was on so large a scale.</p>
<p>The only thing that worried me before my departure
was our civil war, but then I thought it was soon to end.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p019.png" width="200"
height="147" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p020.png" width="375"
height="104" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</h2>
<p class="center">ON THE AFRICAN COAST.—MEETING WITH OLD FRIENDS.—CHANGES
IN FOUR YEARS.—THE CAPTAIN'S MISGIVINGS.</p>
<p class="p2">O<span class="smcap">n</span> the 5th of August we sailed from London. I will
not weary you with a narrative of the voyage. The days
passed pleasantly on board the Mentor. By the end of
the month of August we were not far from the Tropic
of Cancer. September glided away calmly, and on the
7th of October Captain Vardon said that the following
day we should come in sight of land.</p>
<p>Accordingly, the next morning I heard from the main-top
the cry of "Land! land!" Two hours afterward
from the deck I could discern the low lands of the Commi
country. Nearer and nearer the coast we came, until
we could see the white surf breaking with terrific
force on the shore, and hear the booming sound of the
angry waves as they dashed against the breakers. The
country was so monotonous in its outlines that we could
not make out exactly where we were; we only knew that
we were south of Cape Lopez, and not very far from it.
I thought it strange that I could not recognize the mouth
of the Fernand Vaz or Commi River.</p>
<p>No canoes could ride through the surf, so no natives
could come on board. In the evening we stood off the
land and shortened sail, and afterward we cast anchor.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a><br /><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><a name="meets"><img src="images/i_p022.png" width="435"
height="700" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
DU CHAILLU MEETS HIS OLD FRIEND ADJOUATONGA.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
The next morning we sailed again in a southerly direction,
and at last we saw a canoe pass through the
breakers; it came alongside, and the negroes in it shouted
in English, "Put down the anchor! Plenty of ivory,
plenty of every thing; load the ship in a fortnight."</p>
<p>We had passed the Fernand Vaz, having sailed too far
south. The mouth of the river itself is very difficult to
discover. Perhaps you may recollect my having formerly
described it as discernible only by the white surf
combing over its bar, by large flocks of fish-eating birds
hovering in the air above it, and by a long, white sandy
point forming the extremity of the land on the left
bank.<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
<p>As we approached the river, two canoes left the shore
and made for the vessel. In the first, as it neared us, I
recognized my friend Adjouatonga, a chief belonging to
the clan Adjiéna, whose villages occupied the mouth of
the river. He climbed up the vessel's side, and went to
shake hands with the captain, and then advanced toward
me to do the same. I had not said a word, but upon my
raising my hat, which had been pulled down so as partly
to conceal my face, and turning round upon him, he
stepped back in astonishment, and, recognizing me at
once, cried out in his own language, "Are you Chally,
or his spirit? Have you come from the dead? for we
have heard you were dead. Tell me quickly, for I do
not know whether I am to believe my own eyes. Perhaps
I am getting a kendé" (an idiot, a fool). And I
said, "Adjouatonga, I am Chally, your friend!" The
good fellow embraced me in a transport of joy, but he
hugged me so tight and so long that I wished his friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>ship
had been less enthusiastic. Four years had nearly
gone by since I had left the Commi country.</p>
<p>As the second canoe came nearer, I ordered Adjouatonga
not to say a word. My heart leaped for joy, for
in it were my own people from the dear, good old African
Washington of mine. Sholomba, the nephew of King
Ranpano, was there, and my boy Macondai; all my former
canoe-men, Kombé, Ratenou, Oshimbo, were in that
canoe. I longed for them to come on board. I could
hardly restrain myself; but I felt that I must appear like
as if I did not know them, and see whether they would
recognize me.</p>
<p>In a moment they were on deck, and a wild shout
of joy came from them, "Our white man has come
back! Chally! Chally!" and they all rushed toward me.
Good fellows! in their savage natures they loved me,
and they remembered the friend who had never wronged
them. I was seized and almost pulled to pieces, for they
all wanted to hug me at the same time. Captain Vardon
looked with perfect amazement at the scene of greeting.
They seemed to be crazy with joy to see me again.</p>
<p>Then followed a long and confused account of what
had taken place since my departure, all talking at the
same time.</p>
<p>When we had come back to our senses, the next subject
to be considered was how I was to get ashore. Of
course I wished to go by the mouth of the river, but Sholomba
assured me it could not be done. The mouth of
the Fernand Vaz had changed much for the worse, and
it would be less dangerous to run a canoe through the
surf to the beach than to attempt to cross the bar of the
river. It was now the beginning of the rainy season,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
when the winds are less violent than in the dry season,
but the surf had not subsided from the agitation of the
heavy south winds of the dry season.</p>
<p>The anchor was cast, and I left the Mentor in Adjouatonga's
canoe, which was a better one than the other.</p>
<p>All was excitement in the canoe, and the men sang.
Adjouatonga, looking more and more anxious as we approached
the rollers, rested outside for a while, and then,
at the proper moment, skillfully directed the frail canoe
over the crest of a huge wave, which bore us with lightning
speed to the beach, where I was caught up by the
natives that were waiting for us, and carried safely to
dry land. Tremendous huzzas were given.</p>
<p>Once more I stood on African soil.</p>
<p>The people recognized me, and I was hurried along,
amidst a crowd of several hundred savages, all dancing
and shouting with frantic joy, across the sandy tongue
of land to the banks of the Commi, my own Commi River,
where canoes were waiting to take us to Washington
and to old King Ranpano.</p>
<p>Time had wrought great changes in the land of my
former explorations. The mouth of the river had altered
so much that I could hardly recognize it. The long,
sandy, reed-covered pits, which projected three miles
from the southern point of the river's mouth, and which
had been the scene of many hunting adventures with
ducks, cranes, and sea-gulls, had disappeared, and the sea
had washed the sand away, and taken the greater part of
it to the northern side of the village of Elinde, whose
chief, Sangala, had given me so much trouble in former
times. The spot where Sangala's village had stood had
become untenanted, and the people had removed. Many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>
a dear little island, where I used to hide to shoot birds,
had also been submerged or washed away, and I no longer
saw the flocks of sea-fowl which formerly frequented
the locality.</p>
<p>I felt sad indeed; a pang of sorrow shot through me.
It was like a dream; the scene of my former hunting
had vanished, and nothing but the record of what I had
written about the land was left. I can not express to
you the lonely feeling that came over me. Though every
thing was changed, the former picture of the landscape
was before me. I remembered every island, every
little outlet, the herd of hippopotami, the "Caroline" inside
the bar quietly at anchor.</p>
<p>Oh, I would have given any thing if I could have seen
the country as it was when I left it! I had been so happy,
I spent so many pleasant days there, I had so loved to
roam on that sandy point, and to lie on its sand! Now
it was nothing but a dream; it had been swept away.</p>
<p>The canoes in the river being ready, I embarked in
one, followed by all the others, the people singing, "Our
ntangani (white man) has come back. Oh, how we love
our white man! Oh, how our white man loves us! for
he has come back to us. Yes, we never stole from our
white man; our white man remembers that, and he
comes back to us, for he is not afraid of us."</p>
<p>Paddling up the stream, many, many sights I recognized;
many mangrove-trees I remembered; the old
banks of the river were familiar to me. I looked eagerly
at every thing around.</p>
<p>Halloo! what do I see yonder? a herd of hippopotami
motionless in the water, and looking for all the world
like old logs stuck in the mud. Familiar species of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
cranes stalked about here and there, the pelican swam
majestically, the kingfishers were watching for their
prey, with white cranes and ducks not far from them.</p>
<p>Thus we glided along up the river. My heart was full;
I did not speak a word. Soon we came in front of my
old settlement of Washington, of which I gave you a picture
in my Apingi Kingdom.</p>
<p>Oh! what do I see? Nothing but ruins! The houses
had all tumbled down; a few bamboos and rotting poles
alone remained to show me where my big house stood.
The four trees between which my house had been built
were still there; the gum copal tree was in front. The
little village for my men was not to be seen; desolation
had taken possession of the place. One single house was
still standing. The men stopped their singing; their
faces became sad. A feeling that some misfortune had
happened seized me.</p>
<p>I got up and shouted, looking the men steadily in the
face, "Where is Rikimongani, my friend, he whom I intrusted
with the settlement of Washington?" "Dead,
dead," said they. "The people were jealous that you
loved him so well, and they did not want him to see you
again, and they bewitched him; he fell ill, and died."</p>
<p>"Rikimongani dead!" I exclaimed. I took off my hat
as we passed the place, and said, "Oh, how sorry I am,
Rikimongani! What shall I do with the fine old coat I
have for you? what shall I do with the nice cane and
the fine hat I have brought for you? Oh, dear Rikimongani,
I have many presents for you. Rikimongani, did
you know how much I loved you?"</p>
<p>"See," shouted the men, "how much he loved Rikimongani!"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
<p>"Oh yes," said the canoe-men, "he always talked of
you, and said he was sure you would come back, though
we all said that you would not, and that you would forget
us. Rikimongani used to say, 'One day we shall see
a white sail, and Chally will be on board, and he will
land and come to see us again.' In the evenings he
would talk of you to us boys."</p>
<p>Tears filled my eyes. Then Sholomba whispered to
me, "When the wizards who were accused of having bewitched
Rikimongani were about to drink the mboundou,
they said, 'Chally has killed Rikimongani, for he
will never come back here, and he loves Rikimongani so
much that he has killed him, so that he might have his
spirit always with him.' And," said Sholomba, "many
believed them, but many did not."</p>
<p>"We must not land here," said Sholomba. "Chally,
you must never build here; the people are afraid of the
place; nobody will dare to come here, for people die always
in this place. Several times villages had been
built, and the people had to leave this spot. Witchcraft
is here."</p>
<p>I felt that I had come back to a wild life, full of superstitions
and legends.</p>
<p>We paddled till we came two miles above my place
of Washington, which had brought back so many reminiscences
to me. Though I would have liked to build
again there, I could not think of it on account of the superstitious
dread of the natives for the spot.</p>
<p>When we stopped, Sholomba and Djombouai had
reached their little village. Ranpano was away from
home, on the Ogobai River. So I resolved to build a
new settlement close to their village.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p>
<p>Messengers were sent to King Ranpano to tell him to
come, and the news spread over the country that Chally
had come back, and the people from all the villages and
the country round came trooping by land and water to
see their old friend, and to hear about the stores of good
things he had brought with him. They came pouring
in day after day, camping in the woods, on the prairie,
every where. They would endure hunger rather than
go home. Many, many an old face I saw; many a kind-hearted
woman came and told me how glad she was to
see me; many boys and girls who had grown up said
they wanted to work for me; many people brought me
presents of food.</p>
<p>How pleased I was! Oh yes, I had tried to do right
with these savages, and they knew it, and they loved me
for it. I knew that not one of them thought unkindly
of me.</p>
<p>The day after my landing I dispatched Sholomba with
a canoe filled with paddlers up the river. Those among
you who have followed me in my former adventures
must guess where I sent that canoe.</p>
<p>To the village of King Quengueza, that dear old chief.
I wanted to see his face. I had brought great numbers
of presents for him, to show him that in the white man's
country I had thought of him. I had brought presents
for many of his people, his nephews, sons, and nieces.
His old faithful slaves were not forgotten—good old Etia
among them; and his head slave Mombon.</p>
<p>So one canoe had gone for friend Ranpano, and another
for good old Quengueza.</p>
<p>Canoes strong enough to go through the surf were
coming from all the villages. Huts were given to me in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
which to store my goods, and now we had reached the
point of bringing them ashore.</p>
<p>It was necessary for me to go on board the Mentor,
and arrange the mode of disembarkation of my extensive
outfit and stock of goods. As the mouth of the river
had become unsafe on account of the breaking-up of
the sandy spit, and was now an uninterrupted line of
breakers, we resolved to land every thing on the beach
through the surf, and then carry them across to the river,
and put them in other canoes, which were to carry them
to my new settlement.</p>
<p>So on the 14th I went to the schooner, and slept on
board that night. Captain Vardon was somewhat anxious;
he had never been on this wild and unfrequented
part of the coast, so far from any civilized settlements,
and when he saw me he was delighted, and said that he
began to think that the natives had murdered me. He
had kept an armed guard on the watch all the time, for,
said he, such a country looked exactly like one where
the natives could pounce upon the unsuspecting vessel,
murder the crew, and rob the ship. I assured him that
there was no danger; that I could do what I wished with
the Commi people, as he would be able to see for himself;
and that, though many of the boxes would have to
be opened, and the goods deposited loose in the canoes,
not a single thing would be stolen.</p>
<p>Knowing the negroes of the Coast (for he had been a
trader), he seemed somewhat incredulous at my statement.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p031.png" width="450"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</h2>
<p class="center">LANDING GOODS.—AMONG THE BREAKERS.—KING RANPANO.—LOSS
OF INSTRUMENTS.—KING QUENGUEZA.—A PALAVER.—CHANGING
NAMES.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> next morning, at daybreak, three canoes came
alongside to take off the cargo. The men brought the
news that King Ranpano had arrived, and was on the
beach.</p>
<p>My most precious things were lowered into the canoes,
and when every thing was ready, the captain concluded
to go ashore with me.</p>
<p>The captain and I got into the canoe containing all
my scientific instruments, medicines, some of my best
guns, my watch chronometers, five Geneva musical boxes,
etc., etc. Before we left the captain ordered the
mate to keep a sharp lookout, and fasten to the anchors
seventy fathoms of chain, for the sea was heavy. The
crew came to say good-by to me, and as our canoes left
the side of the Mentor they gave three cheers for me.
Then, as fast as our paddles could propel us, we made
for the beach.</p>
<p>As we approached the breakers, the faces of the canoe-men
looked anxious, for the swells were heavy, and
I could hear the roar of the surf. Nearer and nearer
we came. The two other canoes were ahead of us.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p>
<p>The men were watching the swells, resting on their
paddles. At last we hear their cheers; they plunge
their paddles into the water, and onward they go toward
the shore, rolling on the top of a heavy, long swell.</p>
<p>My men thought we were too late, as we were behind,
and had better wait for the next lull. In the mean time
we watched the two canoes; they seemed for a while to
be buried in the foaming billows. "Surely," I said to
Captain Vardon, "those canoes will never reach the shore
safely."</p>
<p>"I don't believe they will," was his answer.</p>
<p>"We had reached a point just outside the breakers,
where we watch; the two canoes appear again; they
have not capsized; the men are covered with spray;
they are paddling as hard as they can; they are over the
breakers; they land safely; the people on the shore seize
the canoes, and bring them up the beach.</p>
<p>Now our time has come, and the men are watching
anxiously. I have the finest canoe-men of the Commi
tribe in my canoe. Oshimbo holds the steering-paddle.
Kombé, Ratenou, Ondonga, Gonwe, Sholomba, and the
others, are not only splendid paddlers, but they all swim
like fish—a very important thing for me if we capsize.
My sixteen men are resting on their paddles; they are
all looking outside, and watching the heavy rollers as
they come in. Generally six of these come, and then
there is a kind of a lull. "Get ready! paddle hard!"
shouted Oshimbo. The men gave a terrific Commi hurra,
and down went their paddles, and with heavy strokes
we got on what we thought a gentle swell. We had
hardly got on it when the swell became higher and higher,
carrying us almost with lightning speed; then it be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>gan
to crest itself; we were caught, and finally were
dashed upon a white foaming wave with fearful force.
"Be careful!" shouted Oshimbo. "Have your eyes upon
our white man!"</p>
<p>Though we did not upset, our canoe was partly filled
with water, and the rush of the wave had prevented
Oshimbo's paddle from acting as a rudder, and the canoe
was now lying broadside at the mercy of the next
wave that should come.</p>
<p>"Hurry!" shouted Oshimbo to the men; "let us bring
back the canoe's head on to the waves!" and the men
put forth all their might to rescue us from our perilous
position. Just as we had succeeded in bringing the canoe
round, a second immense roller, coming from far
out at sea, and mounting higher and higher as it approached,
threatened our destruction. We were in fearful
suspense. Perhaps we will be able to ride upon it;
perhaps it will break ahead of us. It was a terrific one.
My men cried again with one voice, "Let us look out
for our white man!"</p>
<p>These words were hardly uttered when the huge wave
broke over the stern of our canoe with appalling force,
instantly upsetting it and hurling us into the sea, where
we were deeply submerged in the spray.</p>
<p>I do not know how I ever got back on the surface of
the water, but when I did I was some forty feet from the
canoe, and all the men were scattered far and wide.</p>
<p>I was almost stunned. Breaker upon breaker succeeded
each other with awful rapidity, sending us rolling
about under them, and giving us hardly time to breathe.
The sea all round became a mass of foaming billows.
By this time all my faithful negroes were around me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
shouting to each other, "To our ntangani—our ntangani
(white man)!" It was indeed high time, for I felt myself
sinking. A minute more, and I would have sank
helpless to the bottom of the sea, never to rise again.
The Commi swam round me and held me up, till another
wave would scatter us again, and then they came back
to my succor.</p>
<p>In spite of all their efforts, I became weaker and weaker.
They had succeeded in ridding me of the greater
part of my clothing, but, notwithstanding this relief, my
strength was fast failing me, and I had drank large
quantities of salt water.</p>
<p>I cried, "Where is the captain? Go for him!" My
cry was just in time, for he was in his last struggle for
life. Once we had got hold of the canoe, but the waves
had made us loose our grip. Loud shouts came from
the shore; the people were almost frantic. Canoe after
canoe was launched, but only to be swamped in the breakers
the next instant.</p>
<p>At length the tumult of the waves subsided; there
came a lull, and the rising tide had driven us toward the
beach. We were not far from it, indeed, and now we
rested a little, holding fast to our capsized canoe.</p>
<p>At last a canoe succeeded in leaving the shore, and
came to our rescue. As it reached us the crew jumped
into the sea to give us their places, and, in order not to
load it too heavily, they swam alongside, holding fast to
it to keep it steady.</p>
<p>As we neared the shore, the natives did not wait for
me to land, but ran into the water, and, seizing me, carried
me off in their arms, in the midst of deafening cries
and cheers, the women wringing their hands and shout<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>ing,
"The sea wanted <i>to eat</i> our white man; the sea
wanted <i>to eat</i> our white man."</p>
<p>The people led me into a thicket of trees, where a
bright fire was lighted, and whom should I see but King
Ranpano seated on the ground, his little idol before him,
his eyes shining with excitement, and his body trembling
all over. I drew myself up, trying to look haughty and
displeased.</p>
<p>"Ranpano," I said, "if any one had told me that you
did not care for me, I would not have believed them.
What!" said I, "every one was on the shore to see what
they could do to save us from drowning; even your wife,
the queen, was there, and went into the sea to catch me
as we landed, and I might have died and been drowned
for all that you cared. You were cold, and you sat by
the fire."</p>
<p>"Oh," said Ranpano, "my white man die in the water?
Never, while I am alive! How could it be? how
could it be? Oh no, Chally, you could not be drowned—you
could not, my white man; my Chally will never die
in our country. I have a fetich, and as long as I wear
it you can not be drowned. I was talking to my idol;
I was invoking before her the spirit of my father to protect
you in the sea. When the waves were around you,
I begged the idol to send the sharks away from you. Oh,
Chally, I would not leave the idol for fear you might perish.
Oh!" exclaimed Ranpano, with a stentorian voice,
"there are people already jealous of me and of my village.
Some village has sent an aniemba to upset the
canoe."</p>
<p>The wildest excitement prevailed around me. I was
partly stunned, and I had drunk a great deal of salt wa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>ter.
Poor Captain Vardon had a narrow escape, and, as
he said, he was sinking when my boys—my good boys—clinched
him. And once more I thanked silently the
great God that had watched so mercifully over me.</p>
<p>After a while I realized the severe blow I had received
when the great loss I had sustained presented itself to
my mind. Scientific instruments, watch chronometers,
medicines, guns, musical instruments, etc., etc., had gone
to the bottom of the sea.</p>
<p>"Oh dear," said I to myself, "I must remain here on
this barren and lonely coast, and wait for a vessel to come
back and bring me new scientific instruments, for without
them I can not go across the continent toward the
Nile. I wish to make a good map of the country, to
take accurate astronomical observations, to determine
the height of the mountains, and to be able to ascertain
at any time the day and the month if I should forget
their regular succession in the calendar, and, without my
instruments, all this will be impossible."</p>
<p>I can not tell you how sorry I felt. That evening I
felt utterly heart-broken, and I could have cried. "But,"
said I to myself, "to bear my misfortune with fortitude
is true manhood;" and, though it was hard to believe it,
I knew that all that had happened was for the best.</p>
<p>Captain Vardon felt a sincere sympathy with me. The
poor man was himself an object of commiseration, for he
was so exhausted and had drank so much water that he
was quite ill.</p>
<p>My mind was made up, however, that very day as to
what I should do. I must manage to have a letter reach
the island of Fernando Po, and then that letter would be
forwarded to London. That letter will be for Messrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span>
Baring Brothers, and I will ask them to send me a vessel
with all I need.</p>
<p>The next night, as I lay on my hard bed pondering
my wondrous escape from the deep sea, I could not help
thinking bitterly of the heavy loss I had sustained. It
was not so much for the large sum of money that had
been sacrificed, but for the great waste of time this catastrophe
had entailed upon me.</p>
<p>I could not sleep; these thoughts kept me awake. I
turned from side to side in the hope that an easier position
would put me to sleep, but it was of no avail, when
suddenly I heard the sound of the natives' bugles on the
river. The people were blowing their bugles made of
antelopes' horns, and then I heard the songs of a multitude
of paddlers. The sound became more and more
distinct as the canoes neared my cabin. Then I could
hear distinctly, "Quengueza, our king, comes to see his
great friend Chally—Chally, who has returned from the
white man's country."</p>
<p>Soon after the singing stopped, and I knew that they
had landed.</p>
<p>All my gloomy fancies were soon forgotten, and I got
up and dressed myself as quickly as possible. As I
opened my door, whom should I see, as quiet as a statue
in front of my hut, but King Quengueza, the venerable
chief. He opened his arms to receive me, and we hugged
each other without saying a word. The great and powerful
African chief, the dread of the surrounding tribes
and clans, the great warrior, held me in his arms, and
after a while he said, "Chally, I would have staid before
your door all night if I had not seen you. I could not
go to sleep without embracing you, for you do not know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
how much I love you. You do not know how many
times I have thought of you, and many, many times I
have said to my people, 'We shall not see Chally again.'
And first, when Sholomba told me you had come, and
had sent for me, I said, 'Sholomba, this is a lie; Chally
has not come. Four rainy seasons and four dry seasons
have passed away, and if he had intended coming he
would have been here long ago. No, Sholomba, why do
you come and make fun of me? It is a lie; Chally has
not come—Chally has not come, and he will not come
any more to the country of the black man.'"</p>
<p>"Here I am," I said, "friend Quengueza; your friend
Chally is before you. He has thought of you many and
many a time in the white man's country; he has not forgotten
you;" and I whispered in his ears, "He has brought
you a great many fine things which no black man has
seen before, and which no black man will have but yourself."</p>
<p>Then the old chief ordered his attendants to retire, and
when he had entered my little hut I lighted a torch, and
he looked at me and I looked at him without our saying
a word. Then I seated myself on the edge of my bed,
and the king seated himself on the little stool close to
me, and filled his pipe with native Ashira tobacco, and
we had a long talk.</p>
<p>I said, "Quengueza, I have come. Since I saw you a
great many things have happened. I have been in different
countries of the white man. Many know you,
many love you, for I have told the white man what great
friends we were—how much we loved each other. I have
told them how kind you were to your friend Chally; that
every thing he wanted you gave to him, and that not one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>
of your people ever took any thing from Chally—if he
had he would have had his head cut off or been sold into
slavery. Many white men and white women, boys and
girls, know you, and I have presents from them for you,
which you shall see in a few days. I have told them
what we did together, how we went into the woods together,
and how we cut that big ebony-tree"—here I
stopped a while, and presently said, "how I hope to go
farther inland than I have ever been, and will come back
again by the sea."</p>
<p>Then I remained silent, and the old chief rose up, the
shadow of his stately form falling behind him. For a
few moments he did not utter a word, and then he said,</p>
<p>"Chally, my town is yours; my forests, my slaves are
yours; all the girls and women of my village are yours;
I will have no will of my own when you are with me.
You shall be the chief, and whatever you say shall be
obeyed. You shall never know hunger as long as there
is a plantain-tree on our plantation, or a wild animal in
the forests. And, Chally, when you shall say 'I must
go—go far away, where nobody has been,' I will let you
go; I will help you to go, though my heart will be sad
when you depart."</p>
<p>I found Quengueza still in mourning for his brother,
whom he had succeeded, and that he had taken his brother's
name, "Oganda," which is the name taken by every
chief of the Abouya clan. What a queer custom they
have! The law of inheritance there is from brother to
brother, and Quengueza's name had been Ratenou Kombé
Quengueza, and now came the last, which he was to
carry to his grave, <span class="smcap">Oganda</span>.</p>
<p>I said, "Friend Quengueza, it will be hard for me to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
call you Oganda, for the name by which I have learned
to love you is Quengueza."</p>
<p>"Never mind, Chally, call me Quengueza," said he;
and, as he left my hut, he implored me once more in a
whisper not to tell any one that I had brought him presents,
"for," said he, "if the people knew that you had
brought me many fine things, they would bewitch me,
and I should die."</p>
<p>I saw that poor Quengueza was as superstitious as ever.</p>
<p>The old chief then went to the hut that had been prepared
for him during his visit to me. By this time it
was four o'clock in the morning, and the cock in the village
had already begun to crow when I lay down to sleep.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p040.png" width="175"
height="149" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p041.png" width="450"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</h2>
<p class="center">HONEST AFRICANS.—DISTRIBUTING PRESENTS.—QUENGUEZA'S
DIPLOMACY.—ANOTHER PALAVER.—A NEW SETTLEMENT.—RABOLO'S
MONDA.—RANPANO'S SUPERSTITION.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> day after the arrival of Quengueza, word was sent
to me by the canoe-men on the shore that the surf was
quiet, and that canoes could go to sea and return in perfect
safety.</p>
<p>During the day seven large canoes were carried over
the narrow tongue of land to the beach, and twenty-one
remained on the river-side to take to my new settlement
the goods that would be landed.</p>
<p>It was important to expedite as much as possible the
landing of the goods, for this would only be safe for a
few days, till the change of the moon.</p>
<p>The next morning, at daylight, seven canoes left for
the vessel, and each canoe made that day three trips, so
that twenty-one canoe-loads of goods were landed and
carried across to the canoes on the river. Then we got
ready to go home, but not before hauling high up on the
beach our seven sea-canoes.</p>
<p>After four days' hard work, seventy canoe-loads had
been landed, and the cargo was all ashore. I breathed
freely once more; not a load had been swamped. We
had just finished when the breakers became dangerous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
again, and in a day or two more it would have been impossible
to go through them.</p>
<p>Not an article was missing. Captain Vardon was
amazed. I said to him, "Did I not tell you that my
Commi men would not steal?"</p>
<p>You would have laughed to see the miscellaneous articles
which formed part of the cargo. Many of them
were specially manufactured for the African market,
and the heavy goods were to be given to Quengueza,
Ranpano, Olenga-Yombi, Obindji, and the chiefs living
on the banks of the Rembo and Ovenga rivers.</p>
<p>The great trouble was to put all the goods under shelter.
They had to be stored in several huts. There were
no locks on the doors, but I was not afraid of the people,
and my confidence was justified, for not an article
was stolen. Captain Vardon wondered at it; he had
been a trader for a good many years on the Coast, and
said it was marvelous. So it was; there is no city in
any Christian country where these thousands of dollars'
worth of goods could be as safe. I loved the Commi,
and the Commi loved me.</p>
<p>After every thing had been housed, I thought it was
time to make a distribution of the presents I intended
for my friends. Quengueza's presents will give you a
fair idea of the articles I had brought into the country.</p>
<p>So one afternoon I went for friend Quengueza when
every body was taking their afternoon nap. He followed
me, accompanied by several of his great men, nephews,
and wives; for a great king like Quengueza could not
walk alone; he must have a retinue, or escort. Quengueza
was very fond of this sort of thing, but that day
he did not like it a bit; he did not want his people to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
see what I was going to give him, but he did not dare to
send them away, so he whispered into my ear, "Chally,
send them away when you come to your house, for I do
not want any body inside."</p>
<p>So I dismissed Quengueza's people, and, after Quengueza
and I had entered the hut, he closed the door himself,
to make sure, and peeped through the crevices to see
that nobody was trying to look in. Then he seated himself
and awaited developments.</p>
<p>I opened a chest filled with presents for him. The
first thing I displayed before his wide-open eyes was a
huge long coat, similar to those worn by the London
beadles. This coat had been made specially for his majesty,
and to fit his tall figure, for Quengueza was over
six feet high. It was of the most glaring colors—blue,
with yellow fringe, and lined with red. There was also
a splendid plush waistcoat, with big brass buttons. His
coat fell to his feet. I gave him no pantaloons, for
Quengueza never liked to wear them.</p>
<p>After Quengueza's admiring eyes had looked with
amazement on his splendid coat and bright yellow waistcoat,
he must try them on; but, before doing so, he went
again to see that no one was peeping in. I wondered
why his majesty, who was a perfect despot, was so much
afraid.</p>
<p>Having put on his robe or morning-gown, I gave him
an enormous drum-major's cane, with a tremendous gilded
head, to be used as a staff.<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> He stiffened himself at
the sight, and asked for a looking-glass, in which he regarded
himself with an air of supreme satisfaction. Then
I took out of my trunk my opera hat, which of course<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
was flat when shut up, and gave it a slight punch, when
the springs immediately threw it out into the shape of a
splendid <i>stove-pipe hat</i>, to the utter astonishment and bewilderment
of King Quengueza. Then I put the hat on
his head, and his majesty walked to and fro, drawing
himself to his full height. After some minutes he took
off his imperial costume, putting the clothes back in the
chest where they came from, and proceeded to inspect
the other presents, among which were</p>
<ul>
<li>6 pieces of silk, of different colors.</li>
<li>100 pieces of calico prints.</li>
<li>6 silver spoons, knives, and forks.</li>
<li>1 silver goblet.</li>
<li>1 magnificent red, blue, and yellow silk umbrella.</li>
<li>Among the larger articles were</li>
<li>1 common brass kettle.</li>
<li>100 iron bars, 6 feet long, 1-3/4 wide.</li>
<li>50 large copper plates 24 inches in diameter.</li>
<li>50 small brass kettles.</li>
<li>50 iron pots.</li>
<li>50 guns.</li>
<li>50 kegs of powder.</li>
<li>25 wash-basins.</li>
<li>12 dozen plates.</li>
<li>6 dozen glasses.</li>
<li>300 pounds of beads, of different colors and sizes.</li>
<li>50 pine chests.</li>
<li>200 pairs of ear-rings for his wives.</li>
<li>Several chests containing trinkets, mirrors, files, forks, knives, etc.</li>
<li>A chest filled with nice presents sent to him by some of my friends.</li>
</ul>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
The chests were his delight, for the wealth of a king
here is composed chiefly of chests, which, of course, are
supposed to be filled with goods.</p>
<p>King Quengueza never thought that his friend Chally
would have remembered him so profitably.</p>
<p>After showing him all these things, I made him a
speech, and said, in a low tone, "Quengueza, Chally has
a heart (ore'ma); he has a heart that loves you. When
he left you the last time he was poor, and had nothing to
give you, but you loved him the same as if he had possessed
a thousand chests filled with goods. Now he is
rich, and has just come back from the white man's country,
and he brings you all these fine presents, for Chally
loves you;" and when I said "loves you" I looked at him
steadily in the face. The sight of all this wealth had
almost dumbfounded the old man, and for a while he
could not speak. Finally he said,</p>
<p>"Do you love me, Chally? If you do, do not tell the
people what you have given me, or they will bewitch me
to have my property."</p>
<p>The fear of witchcraft was a great defect in the character
of poor Quengueza. He was always in dread of
being bewitched, and consequently of dying.</p>
<p>Then he knelt down and clasped my feet with his
hands, and, with his face distorted by fear, begged me
again not to tell any body in the country what I had
given him. This taking hold of a man's feet is the most
imploring way of asking a favor; it was the first time
in his life that Quengueza, the great chief of the Abouya
clan, had done such a thing. I promised him, of course,
never to tell any thing to his people.</p>
<p>After a while he went away, and his subjects crowded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
round him, expecting fully to hear what fine things his
friend Chally had brought him, when I heard him shout,
with the loudest voice he could summon,</p>
<p>"My friend Chally knows nothing but talk, and has
brought me nothing." Coming toward me, he repeated
the statement just as loudly, and looked at me at the
same time with an imploring sort of a look, as if to say,
"Do not say any thing." But Quengueza's people knew
me better; they knew very well that Chally, the great
friend of Quengueza, would not come back from the
white man's country without bringing him something,
and they were smiling all the while, for they were well
acquainted with the ways of their beloved old chief, who
was a miser, and never wanted his people to know what
he possessed. I kept his presents till his departure.</p>
<p>I gave presents also to good old Ranpano, to the chiefs
that had come to see me, to their wives, and to my old
friends, and then the people returned to their different
villages. Quengueza's people were busy every day collecting
the long bamboo-like branches of palm-trees for
my new settlement, which they were to build for me.</p>
<p>Before the departure of the chiefs, I assembled them,
and we held a grand palaver, at which they agreed that
the Mentor should not leave their country until they had
laden her with their products—woods, India-rubber,
ivory, wax, etc.</p>
<p>The night Quengueza took leave his confidential slaves
were busy taking his presents from my hut to the large
canoes they had with them, which having been safely accomplished,
they departed before daylight. Quengueza
threatened with death any one of his men who should
say a word of what had passed.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
<p>Then, for the first time since my arrival, it looked as if
I was going to have a quiet time. I was glad of it, for I
had been ill with fever, and wanted rest and quiet in order
to get well. Old Ranpano would stay for hours by
my bedside, hardly ever uttering a word, but I could see
by his face that the old man felt anxiety on my account.
He would say sometimes, "Chally, Chally, you must not
be ill; none of my people want to see you ill. I love
you; we all love you;" and when he went away he muttered
words which no doubt were invocations to spirits,
for Ranpano, like the rest of his people, was very superstitious.</p>
<p>The superstition of the natives being so great about
the site of my old settlement of Washington, I found it
was impossible to build there again. Not far from it
there was a nice spot, just on the bank of the river, which
I liked very much; but at that spot there was a little
Commi village, whose chief was called Rabolo. The only
thing to be done was to buy Rabolo out, and I succeeded
in purchasing the whole village for several guns, some
kegs of powder, a brass kettle, a few brass rings and iron
bars, and two or three pieces of cloth. I allowed the
people to take the houses away with them, and I set to
work immediately to build my new settlement.</p>
<p>Quengueza's people went at it vigorously, and, with
the help of Ranpano's people, we began building in earnest,
Captain Vardon, myself, and a negro being the carpenters.
The doors and windows we made with the bottoms
of large canoes.</p>
<p>The smaller buildings were soon finished, and the people
were hard at work on my large dwelling-house; but
when we came to the veranda, and the posts had to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
put in the ground, my men were suddenly seized with
fear.</p>
<p>There was in the ground a formidable <i>monda</i>, or fetich,
which my friend Rabolo had buried in his village before
I purchased it, and which happened to be exactly upon
the site of my house, and almost in front of my door.</p>
<p>Poor Rabolo had never dreamed that I would build
my house just on that very spot.</p>
<p>Rabolo was not in town, and the builders did not dare
to remove the monda, declaring that there would be a
great palaver if they touched Rabolo's monda; "for,"
said they, "Rabolo's monda, which he has put in the
ground, is a very good one; for, since his village has been
established, twelve dry and twelve rainy seasons ago, no
one has died there." This was no great monda after all,
for Rabolo's village was only composed of his family,
and there were fifteen inhabitants in all, not including
the dogs, goats, fowls, and parrots.</p>
<p>Rabolo was sent for. He was loth to agree to have
the monda removed; "for," said he, "not one of us has
died since I made it. You can not take it." "Then,"
said I, "Rabolo, give me back the goods I have given
you; I must go somewhere else." But poor Rabolo had
given away the goods—had bought two more wives—and
could not give me back my money. I knew it, and was
firm. I insisted that the whole place belonged to me;
that I bought it, above the ground and under the ground,
to the very water's edge. So at last Rabolo, with a sad
face, consented to have the monda removed.</p>
<p>To enter Rabolo's settlement you had to go under a
portal, which was made of two upright poles and a crossbar.
Round the poles grew a talismanic creeper, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
had been planted immediately after the queer gate had
been erected; but at the erection of the gate there were
great ceremonies, for Rabolo's powerful monda was to be
buried in the ground, and that monda was to protect the
village, and Rabolo and his family, from aniemba (witchcraft)
and death; so I did not wonder that it was with a
frightened face poor Rabolo allowed me to take away
what he considered the protector of himself and family.</p>
<p>Rabolo was a quiet man—a good man; not a bloodthirsty
savage. His little village lived at peace with all
the Commi villages around him.</p>
<p>Rabolo asked to be allowed to take the monda away
himself. This I granted. Then he began to cut the
bushes and the creeper, which was of the same kind that
grew on the gate, that in the course of time had grown
over his talisman, and, digging a hole in the ground, soon
came to the spot where the wonderful monda lay. The
first thing he turned up was the skull of a chimpanzee;
then came the skull of a man, probably of one of the ancestors
of Rabolo. The people were looking in silence
at the scene before them; they seemed to think that Rabolo
was doing a wonderful thing, and some thought that
he would have to pay with his life for his daring deed.
Poor superstitious fellow! around the skulls were pieces
of pottery and crockery of all sorts, which had been put
there as an offering, or to keep company with the skulls.</p>
<p>Then we went to the entrance, and he removed the upright
posts of the gate, and cut away the creeper that
twined itself around it. This creeper was a long-lived
species, and the superstition was that as long as it kept
alive the monda would retain its power. Rabolo dug in
the sandy soil of the prairie near where the creeper grew,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
and turned up more skulls of chimpanzees and broken
pieces of pottery. The two idols on either side of the
gate were removed also.</p>
<p>A few days after, I heard the people say that it was
Rabolo's monda that had made me come to that spot;
for they believe, in that far-away country which is the
land of the chimpanzee, that the chimpanzee and the
white man have something to do with each other, the
pale yellow face of the chimpanzee seeming somewhat
to resemble ours, while the dark face of the gorilla leads
them to believe that the gorilla sprung from the black
man. Skulls of chimpanzees were just now in great demand,
as mondas were to be made with them in many
villages, for they were fully persuaded that if they had
them people from the land of the white man would come
and settle among them.</p>
<p>Four weeks after my arrival in the Commi country my
new settlement was built, and was exactly like my old
settlement of Washington, a picture of which I gave you
in my Apingi Kingdom, and I gave to it the name of
Plateau, on account of the country being flat.</p>
<p>After the completion of my house there was great excitement
in the settlement. Ranpano had declared that
he could not enter my house; a doctor had told him that
some person who was an aniemba, a wizard, had made a
monda, a charm, and had put it under the threshold of
the door of my house, so that if he entered my hut the
witch or aniemba would go into him, and he would die.</p>
<p>I got furious at Ranpano's superstition, and said to him
that, while he pretended to love me, he insulted me by
not coming to see me. His answer was that he loved
me. His people felt badly about it. Doctors were sent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
for; they drank the mboundou, and declared that it was
true that some one wanted to bewitch him, and had put
a monda under my door to kill him.</p>
<p>Immediately ceremonies for driving away the witch
were begun. For three days they danced almost incessantly,
making a terrible noise near my premises, which
almost set me crazy; drums were beating day and night.
At the end of the third day I heard suddenly a tremendous
noise made with the drums, and a gun was fired at
my door. Ranpano entered muttering invocations, and
wild with excitement, and the people declared that the
aniemba under my door that was to kill the king had
been driven away.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p051.png" width="175"
height="148" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p052.png" width="450"
height="88" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</h2>
<p class="center">DEPARTURE OF THE MENTOR.—MR. AND MRS. THOMAS CHIMPANZEE.—THOMAS
IN LONDON.—LEFT ALONE IN AFRICA.—DEPARTURE
FROM PLATEAU.—A TORNADO.—NENGUÉ
SHIKA.—TRACES OF GORILLAS.—NENGUÉ NCOMA.—KING
OLENGA-YOMBI.—THE IPI.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> day of departure of the Mentor had come. My
heart was heavy; my good friend and companion, Captain
Vardon, was going to leave me. I was to be left all
alone in that wild country, when but a few months before
I had been in the big city of London. How lonely
I should feel! My old life was to come again.</p>
<p>It was the 18th of January, 1864. I remember well
the day, for I left the shore with Captain Vardon to go
on board the Mentor, which was to sail that day for London.</p>
<p>Captain Vardon and I did not talk much—our hearts
were too full; but the good captain kept repeating to
me, "My dear good friend, I do not like to leave you in
this wild part of the world all alone; who will take care
of you when you are sick?"</p>
<p>"Captain," I said, "God will take care of me."</p>
<p>Soon after we reached the vessel the anchor was
weighed, the sails were shaken out, the jibs were set,
and the schooner began to make a little headway.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p>
<p>I was loth to part with the dear little schooner Mentor,
for I knew I should never see it again, and perhaps I
should never see good Captain Vardon again.</p>
<p>When the moment of parting arrived, my negroes
stood ready to receive me in their canoe alongside. I
took Captain Vardon by the hand for a little time; we
looked each other in the face without saying a word;
our eyes were big—a little more, and tears would have
rolled from them. I went over the vessel's side, Captain
Vardon still holding my hand, and began to descend the
stairs into the canoe, when the captain was obliged to let
my hand go. In a minute I was in the canoe; the canoe
and the vessel parted company, and the distance between
them began rapidly to widen. My men gave three
cheers for the Mentor; the sailors responded, all standing
by the bulwarks looking at me.</p>
<p>Captain Vardon had on board with him as passengers
two chimpanzees, Thomas, and his wife Mrs. Thomas.
Thomas was, I judge, about three years old, and Mrs.
Thomas might have been a year old. Mr. Thomas was
a tricky little rascal, and I had any amount of fun with
him. He was very tame, like all the young chimpanzees.</p>
<p>Thomas's capture was attended with adventures. He
was with his mother in the woods; the mother was killed,
and Thomas was seized and brought to the village two
days after. Before he was tamed he escaped into the forest.
The dogs were sent after him, and he was speedily
retaken, but not without his having bitten the dogs and
been severely bitten by them in return. Several of his
fingers were broken, and upon knitting together they left
his hand in a distorted condition.</p>
<p>I was compelled to keep Master Tom tied, for after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
he was quite tame he became very troublesome, and
would go into my hut and disturb every thing. He
would upset the plates, break the glasses, and when he
saw the mischief he had done he would run off, and that
was the last seen of him for the day. So I tied him by
a cord to a pole under the veranda of my hut, and at the
foot of the pole I built a little house, into which he could
retire when he pleased. Every day it was filled with fresh
straw from the prairie, and he enjoyed it very much, and
loved to sleep on it.</p>
<p>Every thing I ate Tom would eat; every thing I drank
Tom would drink; tea, coffee, lemonade were drinks he
liked very much. He would eat fish, crocodile, turtle,
elephant, hippopotamus, chicken, bananas, plantains, biscuit,
etc., etc.</p>
<p>Among the pets I had with me was a cat. One day
the cat came near Tom's pole, when suddenly Master
Tom, who had never seen a cat, flew in alarm to his pole,
and clambered up it, the hair on his body becoming erect,
and his eyes glaring with excitement. He really looked
like a porcupine-chimpanzee, such as I had never seen
before.</p>
<p>In a moment, recovering himself, he came down, and,
rushing to the cat before pussy had time to run away,
with one of his feet-like hands he seized the nap of the
animal, and with the other pressed on its back, as if trying
to break its neck or spine. He was jerking the poor
cat as hard as he could when I came to the rescue—just
in time, for I am sure, if the struggle had lasted two or
three minutes more, the cat would have been killed.
The poor cat could not turn its head and bite, nor use its
paws for scratching, and was, indeed, utterly helpless.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p>
<p>The big chimpanzees and the gorillas are said to fight
the formidable leopard in that manner. It must be a
grand sight to see such an encounter.</p>
<p>One day, while hunting, my dogs captured another
young chimpanzee, which I gave to Master Tom for a
wife. He seemed exceedingly fond of her, and would
spend the greater part of his time in embracing her.
Their married life appeared one of unalloyed happiness.
Unfortunately, Mrs. Thomas was never very strong, and
she died of consumption on the passage, to the great sorrow
of Mr. Thomas, who felt very sad for a good many
days after her death.</p>
<p>I am happy to say that Mr. Thomas reached London
in very good health, in the beginning of the year 1864,
and was presented in my name to the Crystal Palace at
Sydenham, near London, by Captain Vardon.</p>
<p>There he received a complete education; a nice place
was built for him in the conservatory, where the exotic
plants grew well, and there, for the sum of sixpence, he
would sell his photograph to any one who chose to buy
it. His principle was, money first, <i>carte de visite</i> afterward;
and if, perchance, any visitor took off his <i>carte de
visite</i> without paying for it, he would rush forward,
screaming, to the length of his tether, to prevent this irregular
transaction, and would not cease his noisy expressions
till the money was paid down. Then he would
give a low grunt in sign of satisfaction.</p>
<p>Thomas thrived well there, and there was a prospect
of his living many years; but he met with an untimely
end when the Crystal Palace burnt. The poor fellow
met his death in the flames, but not before giving the
most fearful screams of despair, which were unavailing,
since no one could reach him.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
<p>The breeze was stiff, and carried the Mentor swiftly
away from the shore as we paddled toward the breakers.
I turned my head back now and then to have a look at
the dear little schooner.</p>
<p>We passed safely through the breakers, and after landing
I seated myself to look for the last time at the vessel
as she glided away; fainter and fainter became the
sails, till finally I could see nothing but the horizon.</p>
<p>I tore myself from the shore. How sad I was that
evening! "How long," thought I, "shall I have to wait
for a vessel to come to me? Oh dear, I hope the Messrs.
Baring will send me one, with scientific instruments;
then I shall start on that long journey to the Nile, from
which, perhaps, I shall never come back. Never mind,"
said I, "friend Paul, try your best. If you do not succeed,
it is no disgrace."</p>
<p>I lay down to sleep sad and dejected indeed. That
night I dreamed of my departed mother and father. I
dreamed of dear friends—of girls and boys, the companions
of my school-days, that were no more—of days when
I was happy and without a care. That dream was so
pleasurable that it awoke me. As my eyes opened, the
walls of bamboo, the queer bed, told me that I was in a
wild country. I got up feeling feverish and sick at
heart in my loneliness, to which I was not yet accustomed.</p>
<p>That day I said to myself, "Paul, several weary months
will pass away before a vessel can come for you, so take
courage, go hunting, visit the country round, and do the
best you can to while away the time. Keep up your
spirits; faint heart has never yet succeeded;" and toward
evening I felt more cheerful, and chatted with my Com<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>mi
men, and afterward said to myself, "How grateful I
ought to be that I can feel so safe in such a wild country;
that I have so many friends among the natives; and
that there is not a man of them all who would dare to
rob me! Surely," I reflected, "there is not a civilized
country where I could be as safe; the robbers of civilization
would break through these thin walls, and steal
every thing I have." The next day I put into practice
the resolution I had formed, and made preparations for
a journey. I wanted to visit many Commi villages.</p>
<p>My premises were filled with goods under the care of
the Commi. "Be without fear," said good old Ranpano;
"every thing will be safe when you come back. Malonga,
my brother, will take care of your premises as
did Rikimongani." So I set out and advanced toward
Cape St. Catharine, for I intended to make a visit first to
my old friend King Olenga-Yombi, with whom you have
become acquainted in one of my preceding volumes.</p>
<p>It was a fine evening when we left Plateau. We
were now in the height of the rainy season, and it was
so hot in the day that I thought we might sail more comfortably
on the river at night. We were pretty sure to
get a ducking, but I thought it was better to get wet than
to have the rays of a tropical sun pouring down on our
heads. Malonga (Ranpano's brother) and my men had
been busy making mondas to keep the rain off, and as
we left the shore old Malonga said we should have clear
weather. In this country, unlike South Africa, the doctors
are unmakers, and not makers of rain.</p>
<p>The evening, indeed, was fine, and I began to think
that Malonga, after all, might be right; the moon shone
in an almost cloudless sky; but after the setting of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span>
moon at 10 o'clock, a thick black cloud rose in the northeast,
and we began to feel not so sure about a dry night.
I was watching all the time anxiously in that northeastern
direction, for I was afraid a tornado was coming. We
were in the season of the tornadoes, and a constant lookout
had to be kept, for it would never have done to have
been caught napping. The flashes of lightning became
more and more vivid as we skirted the river bank, paddling
as fast as we could, and looking for a quiet little
nook; and we were getting near one, when suddenly a
white patch shone under the black mass in the heavens.
In an instant that black mass overspread the sky; the
part which a little before was blue had become black
and lurid; the clouds drove from the northeast with fearful
rapidity, and all above seemed to be in a blaze with
lightning; the thunder pealed incessantly, and the rain
poured down, as it were, by bucketsful. Our canoes were
driven ashore by the force of the terrific wind, and we
immediately hauled them out of water, although it was
pitch dark, and we could only see each other by the glare
of the lightning. Near by was a little village composed
of a few huts, and we made for it, but found only a few
women, and not wood enough for a fire, in consequence
of which I had to remain all night wet to the skin.</p>
<p>The next morning the sky was clear and the sun
rose beautifully, and soon after sunrise you could have
heard the paddlers sing merry songs of the Commi. We
ascended the river till we came to the island of Nengué
Shika. Nengué, as you know, means an island; you
may perhaps remember Nengué Ngozo. Shika means
white, silverlike. After paddling along the shore of
Nengué Shika, which was covered with palm-trees, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
made for the main land, toward the banks of a little
creek over which swallows were flying. It was a sweet
spot, of prairie and luxuriant wood. There a shed had
been built for me by our old friend King Olenga-Yombi,
and many of his slaves were waiting for me with a goat,
a few fowls, several bunches of bananas and plantains.
The king had sent these provisions and his best wishes
for good luck in my hunts, and a message that I must
come and see him when I was tired of the woods.</p>
<p>Not far from our camp there were several "ivolos"—wooded
bogs; there the vegetation was very rank, and
these bogs were known to be the haunts of the gorilla.
That day we rested in camp, and the next morning we
started with two native dogs for the ivolos. It was very
hard work; we had to struggle through the thorny and
swampy thickets for a long time, and now and then we
would sink knee-deep in the mud. My followers were
slaves of King Olenga-Yombi. Hark! hark! I hear a
noise as if some one was breaking the branches of trees.
I gave a cluck; I looked at the men behind. This noise
was made by gorillas. Silence. My gun is ready; I
advance, but it is all I can do to keep the dogs in check.
The creatures of the woods were tearing down branches
to pick off the berries. Unfortunately, one of the dogs
broke from us. I heard a shriek—a sharp cry; the gorillas
fled; they were females, but the men assured me
the males could not be far off. This was, beyond all
doubt, the spot for gorillas. I could see many of their
footmarks on the soft mud; their heels were well marked,
but their toes were hardly seen. Where they had
been on all-fours I could see the marks of their knuckles.</p>
<p>But that day I could not come in sight of gorillas.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
The following day I hunted near the sea-shore, from
which I then concluded to go to Amembié to see Olenga-Yombi.</p>
<p>On our way we passed by an island of trees growing
in the midst of the prairie. That island is called "Nengué
Ncoma." The people are afraid of Nengué Ncoma,
and at night nobody would dare to pass by it; and,
though we were far away, my men looked at it with superstitious
dread, and quickened their steps. "Oh," said
one of my guides, "whoever enters this island is likely
to die suddenly in it; if he does not die he becomes
crazy, and roams about till he dies. There is a woman
that we see now and then, crazy and wandering all over
it. In this island of Nengué Ncoma lives a crocodile,
whose scales are of brass, that never leaves the island;
he lives in the centre of it; no gun can kill that crocodile."</p>
<p>"It is a lie!" I shouted; "how foolish you are, my
boys, to believe such things! To show you that it is a
lie, I will enter that island of Nengué Ncoma," and I
rushed, gun in hand, toward the island. A wild shriek
came from the men. They shouted, "Oh, Chally, do not
go." They did not dare to follow me. A little while
after I touched the branches of the trees of Nengué
Ncoma, but before I entered I turned back and looked
toward the men, and as I looked at them I saw them
mute with astonishment; and as I turned my back and
entered the wood, terrific cries rent the air. They thought
it was the last they should see of me. Surely the crocodile
with brass scales would kill me, who dared to go
into that island of which he was the king and sole inhabitant.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
<p>I walked on and explored every part of this small island
of trees. I need not say that I did not meet with
the crocodile. When I came out a wild shout greeted
me; it was from my men, who were still at the same
place where I had left them. I came toward them smiling
and saying, "Do you think I am crazy? I tell you
I have not seen that crocodile with scales of brass. I
looked every where, and I saw nothing but trees." They
all shouted, "You are a mbuiti"—a spirit.</p>
<p>We continued our way till we came to Amembié.
Poor King Olenga-Yombi was drunk as usual; he was
so tipsy, indeed, that he could not stand on his legs.
Nevertheless, he welcomed his friend Chally, and said
all his country belonged to me, and in joy he ordered
another calabash full of palm wine to be brought to him,
and drank off about half a gallon of it at once. This
finished him up for the day; he fell back in the arms
of his wives, shouting many times over, "I am a big
king! I am a big king! I am Olenga-Yombi!" and was
soon asleep. Poor Olenga-Yombi, he is an inveterate
drunkard; not a day passes by that he is not tipsy.</p>
<p>The next morning I started for a large plantation of
the king's before he was awake. The name of that
plantation was "Nkongon-Boumba." There I found a
large number of the king's slaves, and among them were
a great many good hunters. These slaves knew me; they
knew that I was their master's great friend; they knew
I was theirs also, and that I had a good stock of beads
for them and their wives. The head slave of the king,
an Ishogo man called Ayombo, welcomed me, and brought
me food.</p>
<p>I said to them, "Friends, I have come to live with you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
They shouted "Yo! yo! yo!" "I want to hunt, and kill
an ipi." "Yo! yo! yo! You shall kill an ipi," they
shouted. "I want to kill gorillas and chimpanzees."
"Yo! yo! yo! You shall kill gorillas and chimpanzees."
"But, above all, I want to kill an ipi. My heart will go
away sad if I do not kill an ipi." "Yo! yo! yo! You
shall kill an ipi. We know where some are. Yo! yo!
yo! You shall see an ipi."</p>
<p>You ask yourself what an ipi is. The ipi was an unknown
animal. How did I come to know that such an
animal existed? One day I saw a monda to which was
suspended a large and thick yellow scale, such as I had
never seen before. The pangolin had scales, but they
were much smaller. There was no doubt that this scale
belonged to the pangolin family, only I learned that the
animal from which it was taken was of a larger variety.</p>
<p>The ipi, I was told, was very rare. Years had passed
away, and no ipi had been seen by me; but some time
ago King Olenga-Yombi had sent me word that an ipi
had been near his plantation of Nkongon-Boumba, and
I had come specially to hunt the ipi.</p>
<p>Many of the king's slaves had come from far-away
tribes, and queer and ugly fellows they were, with lean
legs, prominent abdomens, retreating foreheads, and projecting
mouths.</p>
<p>The day of my arrival we rested. The good slaves
and their kind wives brought fowls, plantains, pea-nuts,
sugar-cane, some pine-apples, little lemons, wild honey,
dried fish—in fact, they brought to me the best things
they had. I gave them nice beads, and to some of the
leading slaves I gave red caps.</p>
<p>That night there was dancing. The idol or mbuiti<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
was consulted as to the results of the chase, for these
interior people are very superstitions. They sang songs
welcoming me.</p>
<p>The next morning a few of the leading slaves and myself
started for an ipi hunt.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p063.png" width="200"
height="139" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p064.png" width="450"
height="88" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</h2>
<p class="center">HUNTING FOR THE IPI.—CAMPING OUT IN THE WOODS.—CAPTURE
OF AN IPI.—DESCRIPTION OF THE ANIMAL.—A
NEW SPECIES OF ANT-EATER.</p>
<p class="p2">W<span class="smcap">e</span> left the plantation at daybreak. Mayombo, the
head slave, was the leader, and some of his children were
with us. We all had guns; the boys carried, besides, two
axes. In a little while we were in the forest. It was
an awful day's hunt, and the first time since my return
that I had to rough it in such a manner. We wandered
over hills and dales, through the woods and the streams,
now and then crossing a bog, leaving the hunting-paths,
struggling for hours through the tangled maze and
through patches of the wild pine-apple, which tore my
clothes to rags and covered my poor body with scratches.
The thorns and cutting edges of sword-like grass which
grew in many places, and the sharp points of the pine-apple
leaves, were not very pleasant things to get among.
It was like the good old time, but I did not fancy the
good old time. I was not yet inured to such tramps; I
had forgotten all about them, but I knew that it was
nothing but child's play when compared with the hardships
I had suffered in my former explorations, or with
what I expected to undergo in the future. I knew that
I was hardening myself for what was coming by-and-by,
and that it was necessary that I should go through such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
a schooling before starting for that long Nile journey
from which I knew not if I should ever come back. I
must get accustomed to sickness, to hunger, to privations
of all kinds, to forced marches; I must be afraid of nothing,
and trust in God for the result.</p>
<p>The end of the day was approaching; the birds gave
forth their last songs, calling their mates, so that they
might not be far apart for the night; the butterflies had
ceased to fly, and were hiding themselves under the large
leaves to keep away from the rains.</p>
<p>We had not been successful, but did not despair. We
were to sleep in the woods, for the plantation was too
far away. Oh, I was so tired. Mayombo immediately
went off to cut some poles to support the large leaves
which were to protect us from the rains, while his two
sons collected as fast as they could the leaves, and I
looked after firewood. I soon came to a spot where the
dead branches lay thick on the ground, and I shouted,
"Come here, boys!" A little after sunset our camp was
built and our fires were lighted; then the boys pulled
from their bags several plantains and a little parcel of
dried fish packed in leaves. Not far from our camp a
little rivulet ran meandering toward the sea; its water
was clear and cool, so we had chosen a nice spot for the
bivouac; but fires were to be kept burning brightly all
night, "for," said Mayombo, "leopards are very plentiful
here; we can not keep our goats; and two men have been
missing within a month." After that exhortation, Mayombo,
who was a great smoker, filled his pipe and lay
down by the fire. In the mean time my supper had
been cooked, but I was too tired to enjoy it, and I was
too tired even to sleep.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p>
<p>The next evening we returned to the plantation, where
all were glad to see us. After a day of rest we started
again, for Mayombo swore that I should not rest till I
had an ipi. We went in another direction, and Mayombo
again took his two sons with him. Toward noon
Mayombo gave a cluck, and pointed out to me a dead
tree lying on the ground, and a strange-looking track
leading up to it, and whispered into my ears the word
"Ipi!"</p>
<p>That dead tree had been lying there, I suppose, for
hundreds of years; nothing remained of it but the trunk,
which was hollow throughout, and looked like a tube fifty
or sixty feet long.</p>
<p>I examined the ground carefully at one end of the
trunk, and saw no footprint there, so the animal had not
gone out; at the other end the tracks were fresh, and it
was evident that the animal had hidden inside the night
before. I said to Mayombo, "Perhaps the ipi has gone
away." "Oh no," said he; "don't you see there is only
one track? Besides, it could not turn on itself, and, in
order to get out, it has to go straight on to the other end."</p>
<p>Immediately he took the axe and cut down some
branches of a tree, of which he made a trap to catch
the animal if it should come out. The branch was put
firmly in the ground, and the top was bent over with a
creeper attached to it, at the end of which was a ring,
through which the animal would have to pass before he
could get out; a little forked stick held the ring, which
the animal would shake as it passed through; the limb
would fly up instantly, and high in the air would the ipi
dangle.</p>
<p>When all this had been done, Mayombo, who had collected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a><br /><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a><br /><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
wood at the other end, set fire to it, to smoke the
animal out. He was not mistaken; the ipi was inside,
and it made for the opposite extremity and was caught.
There was a short struggle, but we ran up and ended it
by knocking the ipi with all our might on the head.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="ipi"><img src="images/i_p067.png" width="450"
height="282" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
CAPTURE OF THE IPI.
</div></div>
<p>I saw at once that the ipi belonged to the pangolin
genus (<i>Manis</i> of the zoologists), which is a very singular
kind of animal. They are ant-eaters, like the Myrmecophaga
of South America; but, while the South American
ant-eater is covered with hair like other mammalia, the
pangolins have an armor of large scales implanted in the
skin of the upper surface of the body, from the head to
the tip of the tail, each scale overlapping the other like
the slates on the roof of a house.</p>
<p>Like the ant-eater of South America, the pangolins
have no teeth, but they have a long extensile tongue, the
extremity of which is covered with a glutinous secretion
so sticky that their prey, after having been touched, adheres
to the tongue and can not get away. The tongue
of an ipi may be extended out several inches. The ipi
feeds on ants.</p>
<p>During the day the ipi hides itself in its burrow in
the earth, or sometimes in the large hollows of colossal
trunks of trees which have fallen to the ground, like the
tree just described to you; but they generally prefer to
burrow in the soil, and these burrows are usually found
in light soil on the slope of a hill. By the singular
structure of the ipi, it can not turn to the right or to the
left at once; in fact, it is quite incapable of bending its
body sideways, so it can not "right about face" in its
burrow. Accordingly, there are two holes in each burrow,
one for entrance and one for exit.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p>
<p>But if the ipi and the pangolin can not bend their
bodies sideways, they are very flexible vertically, their
stomachs having no scales; so, if they are surprised or
want to sleep, they roll themselves in a ball, the head being
inside and forming the centre, and they coil and uncoil
themselves in this manner very readily.</p>
<p>The only way you can find the ipi or the pangolin is
by the trail they leave on the soil, and following them
till you reach their burrows.</p>
<p>The great trouble in finding the ipi is not only that
the animal is very scarce, but that it never comes out
except at night, when the rattle it makes among the
dead leaves is great. The strange creature must see well
with its queer little eyes to be able to perceive the ants
upon which it mostly feeds, and it must take time in satisfying
its appetite, for a great many little ants must be
required to fill its stomach. When the ipi has found a
spot where the ants it wants to eat are plentiful, it stops
by them, and with its long tongue, which protrudes several
inches, catches them one by one. When an ant is
caught the tongue goes in again. I wonder how many
hundreds of times the tongue must come out and go in
with an ant before the hunger of the ipi is satisfied!</p>
<p>I was not mistaken; this ipi was a new species, and
the scientific name is Pholidotus Africanus. This large
one was a female, and measured four feet six inches from
the head to the tip of the tail. It was very stout and
heavy, the tail very short in comparison with its body,
and the scales very thick, and of a yellow or tawny color.
The males are said to be much larger, and, according to
what the negroes say, must reach the length of six feet.
They are very ugly to look at. Their tail, being very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
thick, makes a large trail on the ground as they move
about.</p>
<p>Though in some respects they may be thought to resemble
the lizard, the pangolins have warm blood, and
nourish their young like the rest of the mammalia.</p>
<p>I need not tell you that I was glad to discover this
new species. After securing the ipi we returned at once
to the plantation, and as soon as I arrived I went to work
and took off its skin, and hard work it was, I assure you,
the scales were so thick and big.</p>
<p>When we came into the village with the ipi there was
great excitement, for the animal is so rare that but two
or three persons there had ever seen a specimen.</p>
<p>I went to bed happy, feeling that I had had the good
fortune of discovering a new and most remarkable animal,
which God had long ago created, but which had
never before been seen by the white man.</p>
<p>Of course I had a curiosity to see how the ipi tasted,
and I had some for breakfast the next morning, and it
was good, but not fat, though the natives said that at certain
seasons they are very fat.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p071.png" width="150"
height="154" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p072.png" width="450"
height="80" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</h2>
<p class="center">LIFE AT NKONGON-BOUMBA.—GORILLAS AND PLANTAINS.—ODANGA
SCARED BY A GORILLA.—A CAPTIVE GORILLA.—SUPERSTITIONS
RESPECTING THE LEOPARD.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> dry season had now fairly begun. We were in
the month of June, and the nights and evenings were
quite pleasant. The days were generally cloudy, and it
was a good time of the year for hunting, as most of the
bog-land was drying fast.</p>
<p>Nkongon-Boumba was situated in a charming spot
on the summit of a gentle hill, at the foot of which ran
a little stream of clear water. The country which surrounded
it was partly prairie and partly wooded; the
soil on the prairie was sandy, but where the woods grew
the soil was better. In many places the primitive growth
had been cut down, and there the fine plantation of plantain-trees
and bananas of King Olenga-Yombi were flourishing
well.</p>
<p>How beautiful the country looked in the morning just
before sunrise, when a veil of mist seemed to hang over
it, and when the dew was still thick on the blades of
grass, or was dropping fast from the plantain-leaves! I
would get up just at daylight, and would start with my
gun on my shoulder, in the hope that I might see a gazelle
or an antelope feeding.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p>
<p>Gorillas were very plentiful near Nkongon-Boumba,
and were committing great depredations among the plantain
and banana trees; the patches of sugar-cane were
also very much devastated. I heard one afternoon that
the day before gorillas were in the forest not far from
the village, and had already begun to play sad havoc
with the plantain-trees.</p>
<p>The morning after the news, if you had been in the
village, you would have seen me, just a little before daybreak,
getting ready to go after the gorillas. I was painting
my face and hands with a mixture of powdered charcoal
and oil. After my toilet was done, I put on my old,
soiled Panama hat, took one of my best guns, called
Odanga, one of my boys, to accompany me, and started
off. There was just daylight enough for us to see our
way, and in a short time we came to a plantation, surrounded
by virgin forest, covered with plantain and banana
trees, most of which were bearing fruit in different
stages of growth. This plantation had just been made
on the skirt of the forest.</p>
<p>It was a lovely morning; the sky was almost cloudless;
every thing was still, and one could only hear the slight
rustling of the tree-tops moved by the gentle land breeze.
Before reaching the grove of plantain-trees I had to pick
my way through a maze of tree-stumps, half-burnt logs,
and dead, broken, and half-burnt limbs of trees, where
the land had been prepared for a new plantation. If
gorillas are to be seen in a plantation near a village they
most generally come in the early morning.</p>
<p>By the side of the plantain-trees was a field of cassada,
and just as I was going by it I heard suddenly in the
plantain-grove a great crashing noise like the breaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
of limbs. What could this be? I immediately hid myself
behind a bush, and then looked in the direction from
which the sound proceeded. What do I see? A gorilla,
then a second gorilla, and a third one, coming out of a
thick bush; then another one made his appearance—there
were four altogether. Then I discovered that one
of the females had a baby gorilla following her.</p>
<p>So do not be astonished when I tell you that my eyes
were wide open, and that I gazed on the scene before me
with intense excitement. These gorillas looked so droll,
walking in the most absurd way on all fours, and now
and then walking erect. How impish the creatures
seemed! how intensely black their faces were! how hideous
their features! They looked like men, but like wild
men with shaggy hides, and their big, protuberant abdomens
did not make them less ridiculous or repulsive.</p>
<p>The gorillas went immediately at their work of destruction.
I did not stop them, but merely looked on.
Plantain-tree after plantain-tree came down; it seemed
to me that they were trying to see which could bring
down the greatest number of trees in the shortest space
of time. They were amusing themselves, I suppose. In
destroying a tree, they first grasped the base of the stem
with one of their powerful hand-like feet, and then with
their prodigious long arms pulled it down. This, of
course, did not require much strength with so light a
stem as that of the plantain. Then they would set their
big mouths upon the juicy heart of the tree, and devour
it with great avidity; at another time they would give
one bite, or would simply demolish the tree without eating
it.</p>
<p>How strange sounded the chuckle they gave as if to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
express their contentment! Now and then they would
sit still and look around—and such a look! Two or three
times they looked in the direction where I was; but I lay
so quiet, and was so concealed, they could not see me,
and, as the wind was blowing from them to me, they
could not smell me. How fiendish their look was! A
cold shiver ran through me several times, for, of all the
malignant expressions I had ever seen, theirs were the
most diabolical. Two or three times they seemed to be
on the point of running away, and appeared alarmed, but
recovered their composure, and began anew the work of
destruction.</p>
<p>The little baby gorilla followed his mother wherever
she went. Gradually, without my taking notice of it,
they came to the edge of the dark forest, and all at once
disappeared like a vision—like a dream. I went to look
at the spot where they had made such havoc, and counted
over one hundred plantain-trees down on the ground,
which they had destroyed.</p>
<p>The next morning I went again with Odanga to the
same spot, with no expectation of seeing gorillas again,
for I did not think they would make another visit there
with their roving propensities, but I thought I might see
an antelope or two, attracted by the young leaves of the
cassada-tree, of which they are very fond. I carried a
light double-barreled shot-gun, while Odanga carried my
heavy double-barreled rifle, to use in case we should see
an elephant.</p>
<p>The part of the plantation upon which we had come
extended over two hills, with a deep hollow between
planted with sugar-cane. I was taking the lead in the
narrow path, and just as I was going down the hill to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
get over to the other side of the hollow, my eyes suddenly
fell upon a monstrous gray-haired male gorilla
standing erect and looking directly toward me. I really
did not know if he was looking at me or at something
else, or if he thought of crossing to my side, in which
case he would have come toward me. Without turning
my head (for I did not dare to lose sight of the gorilla),
I beckoned Odanga to come toward me, so that I might
get hold of my rifle and shoot down the huge monster.
I beckoned in vain. I made a quicker motion with my
hand for Odanga to come, but no Odanga was coming.
The huge beast stared at me, or at least seemed to stare
at me, for two minutes, and then, without uttering any
roar, moved off into the great forest on all fours. Then
I looked round to see what was the matter with my boy
Odanga, but no Odanga was to be seen; I was all alone.
The fellow had bolted, gun and all; the gorilla had
frightened him, and he had fled. I was furiously angry,
and promised myself to give friend Odanga such a punishment
as he would not soon forget, that he might not
play me such a trick a second time.</p>
<p>Odanga had fled to the plantation, and a little after
what I have just related I heard a good many voices.
They were the plantation people, all armed to the teeth,
coming to my rescue; but Odanga had taken good care
to remain out of the way, though he had sent the gun.
The little scamp knew very well what was coming, but
when I went back he was not to be seen, and the fellow
hid himself for two days. When at last I got hold of
him he made me the most solemn promise never to do
such a thing again, and said, "Chally, Abamboo (the
devil) must have made me leave you."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
<p>On my return from Nkongon-Boumba a great surprise
awaited me—a <i>live</i> gorilla. An old chief, a friend
of mine, named Akondogo, had just returned from the
Ngobi country, situated south of Cape St. Catharine, and
there, with some slaves of Olenga-Yombi, he had killed
the mother, and captured the rascal before me. He was
bigger than any gorilla I had captured, or that had ever
been taken alive. Bigger he was than Fighting Joe,
which many of you no doubt remember.</p>
<p>Like Joe, this fellow showed the most ungovernable
temper, and to bite somebody seemed to be the object
he was always aiming at. We had no chain with which
to confine him, so that a long forked stick round his neck
was the only means we could employ of keeping him at
a safe distance.</p>
<p>In the evening, as Akondogo and I were seated together,
the good fellow, smoking his huge pipe, said to me,
"Chally, I have had a great deal of trouble since I have
seen you. A leopard has killed two of my people, and
I have had a great many palavers with their families on
account of their death."</p>
<p>I said, "Akondogo, you could not help it; you are not
chief over the leopards. But, after the first man had
been killed, why did you not make a trap to catch the
leopard?"</p>
<p>"The leopard I mean," said he, "is not one that can be
trapped; it was a man who had changed himself into a
leopard, and then, after he had been a leopard for some
time, he changed himself into a man again."</p>
<p>I said, "Akondogo, why do you talk to me in that
way? You know I do not believe that men are turned
into beasts, and afterward into men again. It is stupid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
for people to believe so, but I can not shake that belief
in you alombè" (black men).</p>
<p>Poor Akondogo said, "Chally, I assure you that there
are men who change into leopards, and from leopards
into men again."</p>
<p>Not wishing to argue the question, I said, "Never
mind; tell me the story of your trouble." Then Akondogo
once more filled his pipe with tobacco, gave three
or four big puffs of smoke, which rose high in the air,
and thus begun:</p>
<p>"My people and myself had been in the woods several
days collecting India-rubber. One day a man disappeared,
and nothing could be found of him but a pool
of blood. The next day another man disappeared, and
in searching for him more blood was found. We all got
alarmed, and I sent for a great doctor; he came and
drank the mboundou, so that he might be able to say
how these two deaths came about. After the ouganga
(doctor) had drank the mboundou, and as all the people
stood round him asking him what had killed these two
men, and just as we were waiting with breathless silence
for what he was going to say, he spoke to me and said,
'Akondogo, your own child [his nephew and heir] Akosho
killed the two men.' Immediately Akosho was sent
for and seized, and he answered that it was true that he
had killed the two men, but that he could not help it; he
remembered well that that day, as he was walking in
the woods, he suddenly became a leopard; that his heart
longed for blood, and that he had killed the two men,
and then, after each murder, he became a man again.</p>
<p>"There was a great uproar in the village; the people
shouted, 'Death to the aniemba Akosho!'</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p>
<p>"But," said Akondogo, "I loved my boy so much that
I said to the people, 'Let us not believe Akosho; he must
have become a kendé' (idiot, fool). But Akosho kept
saying he had killed the men, and took us into the woods
where lay the two bodies, one with the head cut off, and
the other with the belly torn open.</p>
<p>"Upon this," said Akondogo, "I ordered Akosho to be
bound with cords, and tied in a horizontal position to a
post, and to have a fire lighted at his feet, and be burned
slowly to death, all which was done, the people standing
by until he expired."</p>
<p>The end of the story was so horrid that I shuddered.
It was a case of monomania. Akosho believed that he
had been turned into a leopard, and committed two murders,
the penalty of which he paid with his life. Here,
in our country, he would have been sent to the insane
asylum.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p079.png" width="200"
height="81" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p080.png" width="450"
height="79" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
<p class="center">WOUNDED GORILLA AND HER YOUNG ONES.—TAKING THEIR
PHOTOGRAPHS.—TOM AND MINNIE.—ARRIVAL OF MY VESSEL.—HURRA
FOR BARING BROTHERS.—A SMOKING SHIP.—KING
QUENGUEZA GOES ON BOARD.—PREPARATIONS FOR
JOURNEY.</p>
<p class="p2">A <span class="smcap">few</span> days after my return home, one evening a
strange sight presented itself in front of my house—a
sight which I firmly believe had never before been witnessed
since the world began. There was great commotion
and tremendous excitement among the Commi people.</p>
<p>There stood in front of my bamboo house a large female
gorilla, bound hand and foot, and alive, but frightfully
wounded. A large gash might have been seen on
her scalp, and her body was covered with clotted blood.
One of her arms had been broken, and she bore wounds
upon the head and chest. Now and then the creature
would give a sharp scream of pain, which lent horror to
the darkness by which we were surrounded, the half dozen
lighted torches making the scene still more wild.</p>
<p>This adult female gorilla had been mortally wounded
in the morning, and lay on the ground senseless for a
long time. A bullet from one of my hunters had fractured
her skull, and in that state of insensibility she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
been securely tied to a stout stick, and in such an ingenious
manner that there was no chance of her escaping.
Her wrists and ankles had been tied strongly together,
while the stick had been adjusted between her mouth
and feet and hands in such a way that she could not
reach out to sever the cords with her teeth.</p>
<p>Hanging from her bosom was a baby gorilla (her child).
The little creature was a female but a few months old,
and now and then, after feeding from its mother's breast,
it would give a plaintive wail. By the side of both stood
a young live male gorilla, a fierce-looking fellow, which
seemed afraid of nothing, and looked around with its
deep grayish, fiendish eyes as if to say, "What does all
this mean? I have not seen this sight in the woods before."
Not far off lay the corpse of a large female gorilla,
quiet in the embrace of death, her face yet distorted
by the death-agony.</p>
<p>It was dark, as I have told you, and the scene was so
strange and so wild that I will never forget it. The
fiendish countenances of the living calibanish trio, one of
them—the wounded one—with a face distorted by pain,
were lit up by the ruddy glare of the native's torches, and
they seemed even more repulsive than their dead companion.
"What a commotion this sight would create,"
I said to myself, "in a civilized land!"</p>
<p>There was no sleep for me that night; the terrific
screams of the wounded mother kept me awake. Two
or three times I got up and went out to see what was the
matter, for I was in constant dread of the big gorilla's
untying the cords.</p>
<p>The next morning I immediately prepared my photographic
apparatus, and took an excellent photograph of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
the wounded mother with her child on her lap. As for
Master Tom (I gave that name to the fierce-looking young
male), I could not succeed in taking a very good likeness
of him; he would not keep still long enough. I untied
his hands and feet after putting a chain round his neck,
and to show his gratitude he immediately made a rush
at me to the length of his chain, screaming with all his
might. Happily, the chain was too short for him to
reach me, or I should have come off minus a little piece
of the calf of my leg.</p>
<p>The night after I had taken the photograph of the
mother her moanings were more frequent, and in the
morning they gradually became weaker as her life ebbed
out, and about ten o'clock she died. Her death was painfully
like that of a human being, and her child clung to
her to the last, and even tried to obtain milk after she
was dead. How still was that fierce, scowling black
face! There was something so vindictive in it, and at
the same time so human, that I almost shrunk from the
sight as I contemplated that wonderful creature which
God has made almost in the image of man.</p>
<p>Now all I had to do was to take care of Tom and of
Minnie. Tom gave me no trouble, for he was quite old
enough to feed upon the nuts and the berries that were
gathered for him; but with little Minnie it was a different
thing, as she was too young to eat berries. Happily,
I had a goat that gave milk, and I fed her on that milk,
but I am sorry to say that she lived only three days
after her mother's death. She died the fourth day toward
noon, having taken an unconquerable dislike to the
goat's milk. She died gently; her tiny legs and arms
had become shriveled, her ribs could all be seen, and her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
small hands had wasted almost to nothing. She died
on the little bed of straw I made for her as if she went
to sleep, without a struggle.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Gorillas"><img src="images/i_p083.png" width="450"
height="282" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
PHOTOGRAPHING GORILLAS.
</div></div>
<p>So no one was now left of my family of gorillas but
Master Tom, and he was healthy and strong enough, and
ate all the berries, nuts, and fruits we brought to him.
For days I tried to take the little demon's photograph,
but all in vain. The pointing of the camera toward him
threw him into a perfect rage, and I was several times on
the point of giving him a severe thrashing. At last I
succeeded in taking two views, not very perfect; but this
was better than nothing.</p>
<p>The place where these gorillas had been captured was
about thirty miles above my settlement, up the river; at
this point a low, narrow promontory projects into the
stream. This spot was my favorite hunting-ground for
gorillas, which came there to eat the wild pine-apple, and
it was there I intended to take my good friend Captain
Burton, the great African traveler, the man who made
the pilgrimage to Mecca, for he was now at Fernando
Po, and had promised to make me a visit.</p>
<p>The gorillas were discovered in this way: A woman
passing through that region came to her village and said
she had seen two squads of female gorillas, some of them
followed by <i>their children</i>; they were going, she thought,
to her plantain field. My hunters were on the spot where
I had left them the day before, and with the villagers,
who armed themselves with guns, axes, and spears, at
once sallied forth in pursuit. The situation was very favorable
for the hunters, who formed a line across the narrow
strip of land, and pressed forward, shouting and
driving the animals to the edge of the water, their ter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>rific
noise bewildering the gorillas, which were shot and
beaten down in their endeavors to escape. There were
eight adult females together, but not a single male.</p>
<p>Time now began to weigh heavily upon me, and a
weary interval passed by. I did not know how long it
might be before a vessel would come to me. Had my
letter to Messrs. Baring reached them? If it had not,
what should I do?</p>
<p>I begun to feel very lonely despite hunting excursions
and the gorilla scene I have just described to you. I
would go almost every day on the sea-shore and watch
for a sail; now and then I would see one, but it was the
sail of a whaler or of a trader, who took good care not
to come to anchor near this wild part of the western
coast.</p>
<p>On the 30th of June, as I came down the River Commi
from a hunting excursion, having bade adieu to Olenga-Yombi,
and was returning to my own settlement, expecting
to remain there and wait for the coming vessel,
I saw a canoe with sail set coming up the river and making
for us. I immediately ordered my paddlers to go
toward the canoe. Soon we met, when Kombé shouted,
"Chally, your vessel has come!" I jumped from my
seat and cried back, "What do you say, Kombé?" He
repeated, "Your vessel has arrived." I was wild; I was
crazy with joy; no news could have been more welcome.
I shouted (I could not help it), "Good for you, Baring
Brothers! You have acted like true friends. Three
cheers," I called to the boys, "three cheers for Baring
Brothers, who have sent the ship to me. Let us paddle
with all our might," said I; "let us not stop; I must
reach Plateau before morning."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p>
<p>On my arrival at that place, Ranpano handed me two
letters which the captain of the ship had sent for me.
One was from the captain himself, announcing his arrival;
the other was from Baring Brothers. Yes, they had
sent me all the goods I wanted—a second supply of scientific
instruments. These great bankers and merchants
had taken the trouble to send to Paul Du Chaillu all he
had asked for, and they did not know when they would
be paid. I assure you I was so overjoyed that for a few
minutes I did not know what I was doing.</p>
<p>I ordered at once all the sea-canoes to be ready. I
must go on board; no time must be lost. The next
morning it was hardly daylight when I had left for the
mouth of the river. Soon after our canoes were put
over to the sea-side, we passed the surf smoothly, and I
was on board the vessel shaking hands with Captain Berridge,
the commander.</p>
<p>Oh, what an enjoyment I had! how many letters from
friends told me that I was not forgotten! Then newspapers
came, and my heart became sad when I saw
that the civil war was still raging in America; "but,"
said the captain, "there is a prospect that it will soon be
over."</p>
<p>My vessel had only arrived two days when a native
entered my hut in great consternation, and said that a
smoking vessel with ten guns was in the river, and they
thought it had come to make war. After a while, a flat-bottomed
steamer, forty feet in length, put out her anchor
in front of my settlement, and fired off a gun to salute
me.</p>
<p>I need not tell you that there was tremendous excitement
among the natives now that an ouatanga otouton<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>
(smoking ship) had entered their river. The name of
this little vessel was the Leviathan.</p>
<p>A few days after I was on board of the Leviathan
steaming for Goumbi, for I wanted Quengueza to see
what a steamer was. The appearance of this little boat,
which did not draw more than two feet of water, created
the most intense excitement. The Leviathan was
a screw steamer. "Oh," exclaimed the people, "look!
look! the vessel goes by itself, without sails, without paddles!
Oh! oh! oh! what does that mean?" They would
spy us far off, and then would crowd the banks of the
river. Many were stupefied at the sight, and could not
make out what it meant, especially when they recognized
me, while others would deny that it was me, and
others exclaimed, "Chally, is that you? Do not our eyes
belie us? Tell us—shout back to us!" and then I would
say, "It is I—Chally." Then they would recognize me,
put out in their canoes, and paddle with all their might
in order to catch us.</p>
<p>As we approached Goumbi, where the river, in descending
from the interior, bends in its westerly course,
the banks were high and wooded, and the river very tortuous.
Here the steamer puffed its way right up to the
villages before it could be seen, and the alarmed natives,
who heard the strange noise of the steam-pipe and machinery,
were much frightened, and, as we came in sight,
peeped cautiously from behind the trees, and then ran
away.</p>
<p>At last we came in sight of Goumbi. The excitement
was intense. From Goumbi the people could see well
down the river. The drums began to beat, and the people
were greatly frightened. Then we cast anchor, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
as I landed the people shouted, "It is Chally; so let us
not be afraid, for no one will harm us when Chally is
with them."</p>
<p>Captain Labigot and Dr. Touchard, who had landed
with me, received an ovation; guns were fired, and in a
short time we found ourselves in the presence of the
great King Quengueza. He did not know what all this
meant, but he felt big. Hundreds of Bakalai and Ashira
were around him; he looked at them, and said, "Do you
see? do you see? I am Quengueza; my fame is great,
and the white man comes to see me," and he turned
away without saying another word.</p>
<p>My great desire was to persuade Quengueza to come
on board, and I was afraid I would not be able to effect
this. I said, "Quengueza, I have brought you white people
who want to see your river, and I want you to come
on board with us; they want to see the Niembouai and
the Bakalai." The old chief said he would go; "for,"
said he, "Chally, I know that no one will hurt me when
I am with you." Good Quengueza knew me quite well;
he had perfect faith in me; he knew that I loved him as
he loved me. I said, "Quengueza, you are right."</p>
<p>Early the next morning the steam was up, and, in despite
of the protestations of his people, the old king came
on board, and was received with a royal salute from the
two small guns. The excitement on the shore was intense;
the booming of the guns re-echoed from hill to
hill, and lost itself in the immense forest. Many a wild
beast must have been astonished; gorillas must have
roared, and thought that it was strange that there was
any thing besides thunder that could make a noise louder
than their own roars. The old African chieftain ac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>companied
us unattended, and as the anchor was raised
and we began to steam up the river, he looked backward
toward his people, who were dumb with astonishment, as
if to say, "Do you see? your old chief is afraid of nothing."
I had induced good Quengueza to wear a coat,
though he was in deep mourning.</p>
<p>You would have liked to see King Quengueza seated
on a chair on deck. As we passed village after village,
he looked at the Bakalai with silent contempt, and they
could hardly believe their own eyes. The crafty old
king took care to let the people see him, for it was to
give him great fame: the people would say, "We saw
Quengueza on a vessel of fire and smoke, going up the
river without sails or paddles."</p>
<p>After two days we came back to Goumbi, and I said
to the people, "I bring your old chief back to you." A
feast was given us by Quengueza, and we steamed once
more down the river. Then I ordered every thing to be
got ready, for I was soon to set out upon my long journey.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p090.png" width="175"
height="101" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p091.png" width="400"
height="103" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</h2>
<p class="center">DOWN THE RIVER IN A CANOE.—A STRANGE PASSENGER.—TALK
WITH A GORILLA.—LANDING THROUGH THE BREAKERS.—PREPARING
TO CROSS THE CONTINENT.—THE DEPARTURE.</p>
<p class="p2">O<span class="smcap">n</span> the 18th of August, 1864, I sent back the vessel to
England to the Messrs. Baring, and early that morning we
left my settlement and sailed down the river in my largest
canoe. We had a strange lot of passengers with us.
The most remarkable of them was Master Tom Gorilla;
not far from him, at the bottom of the canoe, alive and
kicking, was a yellow wild boar, which I had raised from
a little bit of a fellow; and near the boar were two splendid
fishing eagles. Another canoe contained the skins
and skeletons of several gorillas, the skins of chimpanzees
and other animals, besides a great many insects,
butterflies, and shells.</p>
<p>Tom had managed to get on top of the little house I
had made for him, and there he sat screaming. It was
a good thing that the chain around his neck kept him at
a safe distance from us. This morning, as we came
down the river, he was fiercer than I had ever before
seen him. Tom was much stronger than Fighting Joe,
with whom you became acquainted in one of my preced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>ing
volumes, and consequently a more formidable fellow
to deal with. Happily, he could not come down upon us
and bite any of us. I could not help laughing when I
saw him so angry. He could not understand why he
had been disturbed; he did not like the looks of things
around him, and his fierce and treacherous eyes did not
bode us any good.</p>
<p>I said to him, "Tom, you are going to the white man's
country; I wish you health. You are an ugly little rascal;
all my kindness to you has not made you grateful.
The day that I am to bid you good-by sees you as intractable
as ever. You always snatch from my hands
the food I give you, and then bolt with it to the farthest
corner of your abode, or as far as the length of your
chain will allow. I have to be very careful with you,
for fear of your biting me. Tom, you have a very bad
temper. When you are angry you beat the ground with
your hands and feet, just like a big, grown-up gorilla. I
suppose, if you were a full-grown gorilla, you would beat
your chest. Tom," said I, "many times you have woke
me in the night by your sudden screams; often you have
tried to take your own life—I suppose it was because
you could not bear captivity. I have rescued you several
times from death in your attempts to strangle yourself
with your chain, through rage at being kept a prisoner.
Oh, Tom, how often you have twisted that chain
around and around the post to which you were attached,
until it became quite short, and then pressed with your
feet the lower part of the post, till you almost succeeded
in committing suicide by strangulation, and would have
succeeded if I had not come to your rescue. Tom, I
have been patient with you; I have taken care of you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
and you have my best wishes for a prosperous voyage,
and I hope you will reach the white man's country in
safety."</p>
<p>The moment I paused in this address Tom would answer
me with a growl.</p>
<p>"Tom, I have laid in a great deal of food for you on
shipboard: there are two hundred bunches of bananas
and plantains, a great many pine-apples, a lot of sugar-cane,
and many barrels of berries and nuts; so you will
have plenty of food. But, Tom, you must try to eat the
white man's food, for the bananas and the berries will
not last all the voyage. Thus far I have not been able
to cook you any of the white man's food, though I have
nearly starved you, and kept you for days with hardly
any food at all."</p>
<p>Another growl greeted this talk, as if to say, "I know
what you say to me."</p>
<p>"The captain will take you, Tom." Then I looked at
Captain Berridge.</p>
<p>"Yes," said he; "Tom, all I ask of you is to keep well,
and to reach safely the country of the white men, so they
may see how a young gorilla looks."</p>
<p>By the time I had ended this queer conversation with
Tom we had reached our place of landing, and on the
sea-shore several canoes were waiting for us. The breakers
were high; several canoes had been upset, and their
contents lost.</p>
<p>When I saw the state of the breakers, I concluded not
to ship my photographs, and I tried to prevail on the captain
not to go on board that day; "but," said he, "I have
my life-preserver with me, and I will run the risk." The
large surf-canoe was got ready; Tom was put on board<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
with his house, and the first thing he did was to get on
top of it, where for a moment he yelled in affright at the
foaming billows around him, and then hid himself in his
house. The men had to be on the alert, and in the
twinkling of an eye two stout fellows took Captain Berridge
in their arms and put him in the canoe. They
started off at once, passing the first breaker without accident;
but the second, a huge one, broke over the canoe,
filling it with water, and very nearly upsetting it. The
wave went right over Master Tom, who gave a most terrific
howl, and the bath, instead of cooling his rage, made
him more violent than ever. The yellow wild boar gave
several piercing screams, and the poor eagles were almost
drowned, for the live-stock were all together.</p>
<p>I could not restrain my laughter at the rage of Tom;
he did not seem at all to like the taste of salt water.
When the canoe returned, for upon this attempt it was
found impossible to pass the breakers, he jumped on the
top of his house, shaking himself, and looking fiercely all
around. No one dared to approach him after the canoe
had landed, though really I could not help laughing to
see poor Tom in such a plight—it was so unlike the
woods where he had lived. I gave him a fine ripe banana,
which he ate voraciously, and he became more quiet
afterward.</p>
<p>In the afternoon, just at low tide, before the sea began
to rise again, the captain, Tom, the wild pig, and the
eagles went safely through the breakers.</p>
<p>I did not go on board. I took a bill of lading for
Tom, and gave a draft for one hundred pounds sterling
to the captain, to be paid to him by Messrs. Baring Brothers
on the receipt of a live gorilla.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p>
<p>Would you like to hear the end of the story of Tom,
which I heard on my return?</p>
<p>After three weeks all the bananas, plantains, berries,
and nuts which he had not consumed were spoiled, and
there was nothing left to give Tom but white man's food,
though, as long as he could get his native aliment, the
captain had tried in vain to make him eat of it. But
when the fruits had been exhausted Captain Berridge
called the cook, whereupon pies and puddings were
made, and rice was boiled, plain and with molasses, but
all these dainties Tom rejected. Crackers were offered
him with no better result. Tom refused all kinds of
food for three days, and the fourth day he died of starvation,
and to the day of his death he was as ugly as the
day he was captured.</p>
<p>A few days after the departure of the vessel, all the
Commi chiefs met at my request, for I was ready to leave
the country, and we held a grand palaver.</p>
<p>"I am your friend," said I to them; "I know that you
love me. The vessel has gone, and now I am ready to
go to the other side of your island" (I tried to make them
understand that Africa was almost an island). "The
journey will be a long one. I may have to go through
a hundred tribes; there may be war; I may encounter
hunger and starvation. We shall sail and paddle over
many rivers; I shall cross over many mountains, and see
many valleys and prairies. I am going toward the spot
where the sun rises."</p>
<p>"Oh! oh! oh!" shouted the chiefs.</p>
<p>"Yes," said I, "I have told you the truth; and now I
want some of your people to go with me. At the end of
the long journey they will find all that they most desire—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>all
the coats, all the hats, all the shirts, all the beads, all
the guns, all the powder they want, and then a vessel will
bring them back to you. It will be a rough journey, and
perhaps some of those who go with me will never return
again to you. But so it is with you when you go trading;
one after another dies on the road, but it is not long
before you go trading again. I want no man to come
with me by force—sent by his chief or father; I want
free men, with strong and brave hearts, who have heard
all that I have said, so that when we are pinched for food
there may be no grumbling. I do not go to make war,
for war would stop our progress."</p>
<p>"What a talker our white man is!" they shouted.
"Yes," said all the Commi chiefs at once, "we will not
forbid any one to go with you. You have talked to us
right; you have told us no lies. If a man comes back,
he will come back rich."</p>
<p>Great excitement prevailed among the Commi for several
days after my speech. Many young men wanted to
follow me, but their families objected. In the mean time
I was busy packing up my large outfit.</p>
<p>"I will be satisfied," said I to myself, "if I can get
twenty-five Commi men to accompany me." But many
had been frightened at my speech. Nevertheless, a few
days after what I have related to you, there might have
been seen several canoes on the river bank just opposite
my settlement. Among them were two very large war-canoes,
the largest in the country, which sat deep into the
water, laden with the bulky equipment which was to be
used by me in crossing the immense wilderness of Equatorial
Africa. We were all ready to leave the country.</p>
<p>Many of the Commi people were to accompany me as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
far as Goumbi, while the men who were to follow me
were but few; but we were great friends. My companions
for the great expedition were ten altogether.</p>
<p>There was Igala, whom I considered my right-hand
man, a warrior of great repute, one of the most famous
hunters of the country. He was a negro of tall figure
and noble bearing, cool and clear-headed in face of danger,
fierce as a lion, but with me docile and submissive.
Igala was to be my leader; he was to be foremost in the
fight, if fighting had to be done. He or I were to lead
the van into the jungle, and he was to keep a sharp lookout
and see that the porters did not run away with their
loads. With twenty such men as Igala I would have
been afraid of nothing in Africa. Igala had a great reputation
as a fetich-man, and his war and hunting fetiches
especially were thought by the people to be very potent.</p>
<p>Next to Igala came Rebouka, a big, strapping negro,
whose chief fault was that he always bragged about the
amount he could eat; and he had really sometimes too
good an appetite, for the fellow could eat an enormous
quantity of food. But Rebouka had many good qualities,
one of which was that he was a good fighting man,
a very important one for me.</p>
<p>Igalo, bearing almost the same name with the fierce
Igala, was a tall young man, full of spirit and dash, impetuous,
excitable, and I had always my eye upon him
for fear that he would get us into trouble. He could
fight well too.</p>
<p>My good boy Macondai, a fellow I had almost brought
up, the only sea-shore boy whom Quengueza had allowed
to be with me in the country of the Bakalai in former
times, was also of my party.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p>
<p>Then came Mouitchi, a powerful negro, not a Commi,
but a slave, who had come into the Commi country when
a mere boy. Mouitchi had been a slave of Djombouai,
Ranpano's nephew, but his freedom had been given him,
and now he wanted to be five years on the road, and to
see the white man's country. Mouitchi was very black,
not very tall, a short-necked fellow, and was the very type
of the negro, with thick lips, and a big nose, almost as
flat as that of a gorilla.</p>
<p>Another of my fellows was Rapelina, a short, stout negro,
young, but strong as an ox. One of the chief faults
of Rapelina was that he was sulky and obstinate, but I
could always get along with him. He was a slave of
Sholomba, another nephew of Ranpano, who did not
want to be behindhand in manifesting an interest in my
expedition, and, as Rapelina wished to accompany me,
Sholomba gave him his freedom.</p>
<p>Retonda, Ngoma, Igala-Yengo, boys, were three other
slaves that wanted to go to the white man's country, and
so their freedom was also given them. Ngoma and Macondai
were to be my servants; Ngoma was to be my
cook, and Macondai was to wait upon me while eating.</p>
<p>Igala, Rebouka, Igalo, and Macondai belonged to the
best blood of the country; they were descended from
men who had been great in their tribe, but, as I said to
them before we started, "Boys, there are to be no distinctions
among you; we all have stout hearts, and the white
men will thank us all alike if we succeed in our journey."
I made Igala chief over them, and his orders were to be
implicitly obeyed.</p>
<p>You have now a pretty good idea of the men and boys
who were to follow me into that great equatorial jungle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
and share my perils in countries so wild that we had not
the slightest idea what we should meet with, either in
the people or in the wild beasts.</p>
<p>I had a nice outfit for each one of my boys (for so I
called them). Each one of them had three thick blue
woolen shirts, of the best quality that I could find, and,
with care, these would last the whole of the journey.</p>
<p>They had, besides, each two pairs of thick canvas trowsers,
which they were to wear sometimes on the line of
march to protect them against the stings of insects, from
thorns, and many other injuries; but ordinarily the trowsers
were to be worn only when making their appearance
in the villages. At such times the boys were also to
wear red worsted caps.</p>
<p>So they were not to look like the olomeiga (bushmen),
as they called the interior people, whom they despised
most thoroughly, being, they said, the class from which
the slaves came.</p>
<p>Every man had a good thick blanket to keep him
warm at night, and to protect him from the mosquitoes.
I had given to each man a fine gun; besides, they had
each a pair of pistols, a bag to contain their ammunition,
and a huge hunting-knife.</p>
<p>For weeks before our departure I had drilled my men
in the use of their guns, or in practicing target-shooting,
so that they might be splendid shots from the start; and
in this, of course, a great deal of ammunition was wasted.</p>
<p>As the hour for our departure approached, the banks
of the river were crowded with people. It was on the
2d of October, 1864. That unfortunate shipwreck had
caused me a great loss of time, but at last we were ready,
and the people had come to see us off and say good-by.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
Many a sad heart was on that shore; many a mother and
sister thought it was the last time they should see the
men and boys that were going with me. I felt the great
responsibility I had assumed in taking away my men
from their people.</p>
<p>Every thing was ready, good-by had been said a hundred
times, the men had been in the canoes and had gone
ashore again, when I said, "Boys, let us break off. I know
it is hard to leave home. Don't you think it was hard
for me to leave the white man's country?"</p>
<p>Igala, my right-hand man, my warrior, my hunter—Igala,
with the heart of a lion, was the only one left
ashore. He could not tear himself away from his little
daughter, whom he tenderly loved, and who clung closely
to her father, the tears streaming from her eyes, and
begging him not to go with the white man on the okili
mpolo (long road), for he would never come back. It
was a great trial for Igala. I could see by the working of
his face that his pangs at parting were severe. "Do not
cry, ouana amée (my child); I am coming back; we shall
reach the other side. I am going with Chally; I will
bring plenty of beads from the white man's country."
Then, by a sudden effort, he left her and jumped into my
canoe; I gave the order for departure, and in the midst
of tremendous shouting and firing of guns we got in motion.
I hoisted the Stars and Stripes at the stern of my
big canoe, and turned my head toward the mouth of the
river as if to catch a glimpse of the sea once more.</p>
<p>As I looked at my men in that canoe my heart melted
with love for them. What a strong faith they must have
had in me! They had left father, mother, wife, sister,
to follow me. I swore to myself that their confidence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
in me should not be misplaced; henceforth they were to
be brothers to me.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Departure"><img src="images/i_p101.png" width="450"
height="281" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
THE DEPARTURE.
</div></div>
<p>That night, as we stood by the fire in our camping-ground,
I said, "Boys, you have left fathers, mothers,
brothers, sisters, wives, your children, for me, because you
would not permit me to go alone from tribe to tribe; for
you said, 'If you get sick, who shall take care of you? if
you are hungry, who shall get food for you? We will
follow you to the end of the journey to the other side of
the island, for we know that if you reach the white man
you will bring us back to our country; we know that,
even if one white man should be willing to give ten ship-loads
of goods for one of us, you would not sell us.'
Boys, you have always heeded what I said to you; we
are friends. When you come back and walk in your villages,
the people will say, 'Here are the men with strong
hearts; they went with Chally, and have seen what neither
black men nor white men had ever seen before.'"</p>
<p>Where we had stopped for the night lived a celebrated
doctor who the people believed could foretell events. His
name was Oune-jiou-e-maré (head of a bullock); he was
about seventy years of age, and a kind-hearted old man.
As he enjoyed the reputation of being a great prophet,
my people asked him whether our journey would be prosperous.
He replied that we should go very far, and that
a big chief would ask Chally to marry his daughter, and
then, if Chally married her, and gave her all she asked,
and made her heart glad, she would lead us from tribe
to tribe until we reached the far-off sea where we wished
to go.</p>
<p>"Chally, you must marry that girl," they all shouted;
"yes, you must."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
<p>The next day Ranpano left us, but not before I granted
a strange request of his. He wanted me to take off
the garment I wore next to my skin; "not," said he, "that
I want it to wear, but I will keep it, and then you will
be sure to come back."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p104.png" width="100"
height="82" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p105.png" width="450"
height="91" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</h2>
<p class="center">A ROYAL WELCOME.—DEPARTURE FROM GOUMBI.—THE STORY
OF NCHANGA AND ENOMO.—ASCENDING THE OVENGA
RIVER.—A HOSTILE BARRIER REMOVED.—THE ADVICE OF
QUENGUEZA.</p>
<p class="p2">A<span class="smcap">fter</span> a few days we reached the kingdom of Quengueza,
and I received a royal welcome from the sturdy
old chief, for he loved me more than any body else. That
evening we remained together all alone, and talked about
my long journey. He said to me, "Chally, every body is
afraid; none of my free men want to follow you. They
think they will never come back; but one of my slaves
says he will go with you, and you can depend upon him.</p>
<p>"To make sure of your success," said the old king, "I
want you to go where you like. I am an old man, but I
am strong, and, though more than forty dry and forty
rainy seasons have passed since I have been to the Ashira
country, I will go there with you. I will put you myself
in the hands of my friend Olenda, the Ashira king, and
tell him to send you on."</p>
<p>Thirteen days after my arrival at Goumbi the beating
of the kendo (the royal standard alarum) awoke
me just before sunrise, and I heard the voice of the old
chief invoking, in a loud tone, the spirits of his famous
royal ancestors to protect us on our journey. The spirits
he invoked were those of men who had been famous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
in war or as rulers, and their names had been handed
down from generation to generation. Igoumbai, Wombi,
Rebouka, Ngouva, Ricati, Olenga-Yombi—the skulls
of all these great men were kept in the alumbi house of
the king.</p>
<p>Quengueza was prouder than any chief I knew of the
powers of his deceased ancestors, and well might he be,
for several had been great warriors, and some had been
wise rulers.</p>
<p>At 10 o'clock on the 28th of October we left Goumbi,
followed by a large array of canoes. We had had some
trouble before the start, for Quengueza's slaves were
alarmed, and many had hid in the woods. They were
afraid that their master would give them to me, and they
did not desire to go off into the far country.</p>
<p>"Good-by" shouted the villagers on the shore; "good-by,
Chally; come back to us. Take care of our king;
we do not like him to go so far away with you, for he
is old; but he loves you, and will accompany you part of
the way." And just as we disappeared from sight a wild
shout rang through the air. It was the last farewell to
me of the Goumbi people.</p>
<p>That evening we reached the junction of the Niembai
and Ovenga Rivers, and resolved to pass the night
on the shore. The rivers were low, for the dry season
had been unprecedented in its length—indeed, the longest
that the people could remember. In that country
the rainy season comes from inland, and gradually makes
its way to the sea-shore, while the dry season begins at
the sea-shore, and gradually makes its way inland.</p>
<p>That evening our camp was a merry one, for the men
who went out caught a great many fish (mullets and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>dos).
The number was prodigious, for at that season of
the year these fish ascend the river as the shad do in
spring in America. The smoke of many a camp-fire ascended
among the trees, and jokes, and laughter, and story-telling
were carried far into the night. A negro is
never happier than when he has nothing to do and plenty
to eat.</p>
<p>My couch, made of leaves, was by the side of Quengueza's,
and my brave companions were all around us.</p>
<p>Some funny stories were told that night, and one of
them I wrote down. The long dry season was the subject
of conversation. A man belonging to Goumbi got
up. Nchanga means the wet, Enomo the dry season.
These two seasons are personified with the African. So
the story went:</p>
<p>Nchanga and Enomo had a great dispute as to which
was the oldest, that is to say, which was the first to begin,
and finally an assembly of the people of the air met to
decide the question. Nchanga said, "When I come to a
place, rain comes." Enomo retorted, "When I make my
appearance, the rain goes." "Verily, verily," said the
people of the air, who had listened to Enomo and Nchanga,
"you must be of the same age."</p>
<p>These long dry seasons have a special name, and are
called <i>enomo onguéro</i>; they last about five months. The
showers coming at the close are very light, and produce
no impression on the rivers.</p>
<p>Next morning we ascended the Ovenga, which was very
low, being about twenty feet below the high-water mark.
The narrow stream was encumbered with fallen trees and
sand-banks, and the journey was difficult and slow.</p>
<p>We were getting among the Bakalai villages which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>
lined the river banks from place to place, when suddenly
we came to a spot where the river had been fenced or
obstructed right across on account of some petty trade
quarrel which the people of the village opposite had had
with some other village higher up.</p>
<p>As soon as King Quengueza saw this his countenance
changed, and wore the fiercest expression, and for the
first time I could see that the terrible accounts I had
heard of his warlike disposition when younger were true.
The face of the man fairly changed its color. He, the
King of the Rembo, traveling with his ntangani (white
man), saw that his river had been barred.</p>
<p>He got up and shouted, "Where are the axes and the
cutlasses? where are the spears and the guns?" and he
took up a gun himself, and fired into the air.</p>
<p>The fence was demolished in a few seconds, and onward
we went. Our canoe took the lead, and just as we
turned a bend in the river I saw five elephants crossing
it, and before I had time to get a shot at them the huge
creatures reached the bank and plunged into the forest,
demolishing all the young trees which stood in the way
of their flight.</p>
<p>Finally we reached the junction of the Ovenga River
and of the Ofoubou, and set up our camp there. Quengueza
immediately dispatched messengers to the Ashira
king, asking him to send us men. Our camp was close
by the village of friend Obindji, with whom you are already
acquainted, who came to see us every day.</p>
<p>You remember the description I gave you of Obindji,
and the fierce witchcraft-palaver that took place at his
cabin, Pende, his brother, having been accused of stealing
dead men's bones, etc.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p>
<p>I had brought with me a nice present for Obindji, besides
what I had sent him by Quengueza on my arrival.
The good old Bakalai chief was delighted.</p>
<p>We remained for several days at our encampment here,
till at last the Ashira people, sent by their King Olenda,
arrived.</p>
<p>The water was now so low that from the northern
bank of the Ovenga, on which our camp was placed,
there stretched a long point of beautiful sand, upon
which turtles would come during the night and lay their
eggs.</p>
<p>We soon found that the large number of men Olenda
had sent were not sufficient for repacking our baggage,
and I remained behind with Quengueza.</p>
<p>Three nephews of Quengueza—Adouma, Ouendogo,
and Quabi—went with the Ashira men, taking with them
all that the men could carry. When I saw that I had
really too much luggage, I gave to Quengueza nearly all
the salt I had, a great many brass rings, an additional
supply of powder, etc.</p>
<p>After a few days the Ashiras returned, and we concluded
to take our departure the next morning.</p>
<p>Quengueza, besides being an illustrious warrior, was a
man who had a great deal of common sense, and, after
every thing was packed and ready, he ordered my men
to come to him. The old chief's countenance wore a
grave aspect, and, after looking in the fire for some time,
smoking all the while as hard as he could, he said, "You
are going into the bush; you will see there no one of
your tribe; look up to Chally as your chief, and obey
him. Now listen to what I say. You will visit many
strange tribes. If you see on the road, or in the street<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
of a village, a fine bunch of plantains, with ground-nuts
lying by its side, do not touch them; leave the village at
once; this is a tricky village, for the people are on the
watch to see what you are going to do with them.</p>
<p>"If the people of a village tell you to go and catch
fowls or goats, or cut plantains for yourselves, say to
them, 'Strangers do not help themselves; it is the duty
of a host to catch the goat or fowl, and cut the plantains,
and bring the present to the house which has been given
to the strangers.' When a house is given to you in any
village, keep to that house, and go into no other; and if
you see a seat, do not sit upon it, for you know there are
seats upon which nobody but the owners are permitted
to sit.</p>
<p>"But, above all, beware of women; do not get in love
with any of them, for you will be strangers in a strange
land. I tell you these things that you may journey in
safety; I want you to have a smooth journey, and get into
no trouble. I need not tell you to take care of Chally."</p>
<p>The speech of the old sage was listened to with great
attention, and Igala said, "<i>Rera</i> (father, king), we will
follow your advice, for we know that when salt or food
is left on the road-side it is to catch people; we know
that you must not go into other people's houses, for in
some no one but the owner can go; and as for sitting on
somebody else's seat, we know better. We don't want to
be made slaves. Rera (father), we will remember what
you have said to us."</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p110.png" width="60"
height="59" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p111.png" width="400"
height="89" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</h2>
<p class="center">BUSTLE IN THE CAMP.—A MAGIC HORN.—QUENGUEZA'S
IDOL.—A LIVING SKELETON.—TERRIFIC THUNDER-STORM.—A
GORILLA FAMILY.—STUPENDOUS CATARACT.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> next morning after this fine speech of Quengueza
all was bustle in the camp, and every thing was now
ready. Quengueza stood by my side, wearing a coat,
and having a green cloth around his loins; from his
shoulder hung his bag, in which there was a large supply
of tobacco and his kendo; close by him stood a slave
and one of his nephews, carrying his gun and the sword
I had given him. Adouma, Ouendogo, and Quabi were
also near at hand.</p>
<p>I was in walking trim, with leggins on, carrying by
my side a superb pair of revolvers. I bore also a double-barreled
rifle, and in my bag were 100 cartridges for my
revolvers, and 150 bullets for my gun. Every man of
my company was armed to the teeth, and they seemed
greatly to enjoy looking formidable.</p>
<p>A gun is fired, the echo of which reverberates from
mountain to mountain, and then more guns are fired by
the Bakalai, who know that King Quengueza and his
friend Chally are now on their journey.</p>
<p>We paddled up the Ofoubou for a little while, when we
went ashore, and pursued our journey overland. That
night we slept at the Bakalai village of Ndjali-Coudie.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p>
<p>The next morning we continued our journey, my dear
friend Quengueza and I sticking close together. We
had left Ndjali-Coudie a little before six o'clock, just at
daybreak, and after a little more than two hours we
reached the top of a steep hill (369 feet in height), called
by the people Nomba-Rigoubou, where we stopped for
breakfast. Immediately after breakfast we marched onward,
and as toward four o'clock poor Quengueza appeared
tired, I thought it best to stop for the night at
the base of a hill called Ecourou. Here there were the
remains of an Ashira encampment, which was nothing
but an old shed, loosely covered with pieces of bark, in
many places of which I could see through. I had not
much faith in its excellence for shelter, and wanted to
send the men to collect leaves, but they were so tired
that I let them rest. It did not rain every evening, and
perhaps it would not rain that evening; besides, we had
an Ashira doctor with us, who blew his magic horn to
drive the rain away.</p>
<p>Quengueza was an excellent companion on the march;
full of pride, he would never complain of being tired,
and disliked above all things to appear old. He was, indeed,
an odd sort of person, and the eccentricities of his
character were endless. Of course he never traveled
without his idol, which was an ugly, pot-bellied image of
wood, four or five inches in height, with a row of four
cowries imbedded in its abdomen, and was generally carried,
when traveling, in one of his coat pockets or in his
bag. Walking or sleeping, the idol was never suffered
to be away from him. Whenever he ate or drank, he
would take the wooden image and gravely pass his tongue
and lips over its abdomen, and before drinking any of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
native beer he would always take it out of his pocket or
bag, lay it on the ground, and pour a libation over its
feet. Poor Quengueza! I used to talk enough to him
about his superstitions; I tried to shake his blind faith in
them, and to teach him to adore the true God and Creator.
That evening he held a long parley with the idol.</p>
<p>The next morning old Quengueza appeared to feel stiff
as he got up, but he took care not to tell it to any body,
and immediately we started. That day we reached the
Ashira Land, which was the country to which Quengueza
purposed to escort me himself on my way to the interior.
It is a mark of great friendship here to accompany
a man part of his journey, and Quengueza, though a man
beyond threescore and ten, went with me over rough
mountains, through rushing streams, and along thorny,
bad roads, to show me how much he loved me.</p>
<p>As we emerged from the forest into the prairies of
Ashira Land, the magnificent mountains of Igoumbi-Andelè
and Ofoubou-Orèrè burst upon our view in the south,
while in the north the lofty ridge of Nkoumou-Nabouali
stood out in majestic grandeur against the sky.</p>
<p>Old King Olenda received us with great demonstrations
of joy; he came to meet us beating his kendo, and
seemed delighted to meet me again. How glad he was
to see Quengueza! They had not seen each other for
forty dry seasons and forty rainy seasons (forty years).</p>
<p>I have given you before, in two of my works, a description
of old Olenda, the oldest man I ever saw. He
was much the same now as when I last saw him: his
cheeks sunken, his legs and arms thin and bony, and covered
with wrinkled skin. He appeared, in fact, a living
skeleton, yet retained his sight and hearing unimpaired.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
<p>After we had come to the ouandja (palaver house),
Quengueza said, "I have come to see you again, Olenda;
I have come to see you, to bring you with my own hands
my friend Chally, the spirit, and I want you to provide
him with an escort to conduct him on to the next tribe."</p>
<p>Olenda promised every thing. The Ashira came to
us in great crowds, for they wanted not only to greet
me, but to see the great Quengueza.</p>
<p>The next day presents of slaves were brought to Quengueza.
I begged the old chief not to take them; but the
trouble was, that, according to the customs of the country,
it would be an insult for him to refuse them, for he
was the guest. Nevertheless, I took the responsibility,
and I said I did not desire Quengueza to take away any
slaves from the country. Immense quantities of supplies
were brought to us—goats, plantains, fowls, pea-nuts, sugar-cane,
wild pine-apples, berries, and fruits of all sorts.
After a few days I held a palaver, and said, "I must see
the great waterfall of Samba-Nagoshi."</p>
<p>We started in light marching order, the only heavy
baggage being my photographic apparatus, for I wanted
to take accurate views of the splendid scenery which I
expected to behold. I took only four of my faithful
Commi boys—Rebouka, Igala, Macondai, and Ngoma.
The rest of my followers were Ashiras; among them
were three of Olenda's grand-nephews—Arangui, Oyagui,
and Ayagui.</p>
<p>We pursued a northeast direction till we struck the
Ovigui River, crossing it on an immense tree which had
been felled for the purpose, and which had lodged about
fifteen feet from the water. Then we took a path which
was to lead us to the country of the Kambas. The for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>est
was exceedingly dense. The first evening we had a
fearful thunder-storm—the rainy season had begun in
these mountains. The thunder was terrific, and the flashes
of lightning vividly illuminated the thick woods by
which we were surrounded. The next morning we resumed
our march along the western foot of a hilly range,
and not a sound was heard as we trudged steadily along
in Indian file. On the way we passed through a little
bit of prairie, the name of which was Opangano, and before
noon we came to a village of Bakalai. The village
was fenced; that is to say, each side of the street was
barred with long poles. The street was very narrow,
and none of the houses had outside doors.</p>
<p>The Ashiras were afraid to go into the villages. They
said that after the people were in, sometimes the gates
were shut, and then strangers were killed or plundered.
A great panic seized the Bakalai as I entered the village,
but their fears were somewhat allayed when they recognized
Arangui. We remained but a little while, and
continued our march northward, passing near several villages
of the warlike Bakalai, two of which were entirely
abandoned, and before sunset we reached a little prairie
called the Lambengue. We had had a hard day's work;
it had been raining all the afternoon, and we had been
compelled to travel through the mire and over miles of
slippery stones; so we built sheds, covering them with
large leaves, and surrounded ourselves with roaring big
fires to keep away the snakes and wild beasts.</p>
<p>The night's rest did little to refresh us, and the next
morning we still felt weary. For myself, I was quite
unwell, and found my gun too heavy to carry. The feet
of my men were sore on account of the pebbles with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
which the path was filled the day before. So I took the
lead to cheer them up, and we were soon lost again in
that great jungle. Oh, how wild it was! how desolate!
how solitary! There was not an elephant to be seen,
nor did the chatter of a monkey break the silence of the
forest. I was ahead of the party, trying to descry the
future, when suddenly I was startled by a loud noise of
the breaking of branches of trees. It was a family of
gorillas. They had seen me, and began to hurry down
the trees which they had ascended to pick the berries.
How queer their black faces looked as they peeped
through the leaves to see what was the matter! As they
came hastily down, the branches would bend with their
weight. They were of different sizes. "It must be a
family of gorillas," said I to myself. All at once I saw
a huge black face looking through the foliage. There
was no mistake—it was a huge male gorilla. He had
caught sight of me, and I could distinctly see his hideous
features, his ferocious eyes and projecting eyebrows. I
was on the point of running away as fast as I could toward
my men, when I heard their voices; they were
coming up to the rescue. The shaggy monster raised a
cry of alarm, scrambled to the ground, and disappeared
in the jungle, going, no doubt, where his mate or family
had gone before him.</p>
<p>A few days after meeting the gorillas I was seated on
the banks of the River Rembo-Ngouyai, looking at a very
grand and impressive scene. It was, indeed, a magnificent
freak of nature. The great body of water rushed
through a narrow gorge with headlong fury, and the
whole stream was white with foam. To reach this spot
we had gone through dense forests, having been led thither<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
only by the roar of the rushing waters. We had passed
two tribes before gaining the fall—the Kambas and
the Aviia. The latter were our guides, and they said
that the Fougamou, the real fall, was above; so we ascended
the steep banks of the river for about a quarter
of an hour, when we came upon the object of our
search. The river here was about 150 yards wide. In
the middle of it was an island, dividing the fall into two
parts, and I could only see the half of the fall on our
side. Between the island and the main land, where I
stood, the distance was not more than 70 or 80 yards.
The fall was hardly greater than 15 feet, and that was
broken in the centre by two huge granite boulders, which
the water had not succeeded in wearing away or detaching
from the bed of rock over which the river there descended.
The water seemed to rush in an enormous volume
down a steep incline. The cataract itself I thought
was not imposing, but below it was one of the grandest
sights I ever saw. A torrent of fearful velocity and
great volume leaped madly along in huge billows, as
though the whole river had dropped into a chasm, and
bounded out again over ridges of rocks. The scene was
rendered more magnificent by the luxuriant tropical foliage
of the banks. Nothing could be heard but the noise
of the cataract. The sky was cloudy, a fine rain was
falling, and that day I could not take a photograph of
the grand scene. I wanted to sleep that night near the
fall, but my Aviia guides were frightened, and said that
the great spirit Fougamou would come during the night
and roar with such fury in our ears that we could not
survive it; besides which, no one had ever slept there.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Family"><img src="images/i_p117.png" width="450"
height="278" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
SURPRISING A FAMILY OF GORILLAS.
</div></div>
<p>I gave you, in my Apingi Kingdom, the legend con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>cerning
the Samba-Nagoshi Falls just as I heard it from
the Apingi, and the Aviia repeated it to me. I found
that the Apingi had added nothing to it at all.</p>
<p>I had at last seen the famous Samba-Nagoshi Falls at
the base of the towering Nkoumou-Nabouali Mountains.
I was satisfied, and a few days after I was on my way
back to Olenda's village.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p120.png" width="175"
height="173" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p121.png" width="400"
height="91" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</h2>
<p class="center">THE DEATH OF REMANDJI.—A SINGULAR SUPERSTITION.—OUTBREAK
OF THE PLAGUE.—A TOUCHING INCIDENT.—DYING
OFF BY SCORES.—DEATH OF OLENDA.</p>
<p class="p2">W<span class="smcap">hile</span> on my way from the Falls of Samba-Nagoshi
to Olenda a secret deputation had been sent to him from
the Apingi country, where, as you are aware, I had been
made king, and where the people were so superstitious
about me. The King of Apingi had sent word that
Olenda must endeavor to dissuade me from going into
Apingi Land.</p>
<p>It appears that, after I had left the Apingi country, the
people could not comprehend what had become of me.
They would come to Remandji and ask him if he knew
where I was. They declared that he had hid me in the
forest for himself; that he was jealous, and did not want
his people to see me. They came and asked for presents,
but poor Remandji told them that the Spirit had not left
him many things, and that really he did not know where
I had gone; that they had seen me disappear in the forest,
and had heard me say good-by to the people just as
he had.</p>
<p>A few days after my departure Remandji was found
dead in his little hut, on his bed. A cry of anguish rose
from one end of the village to the other when the news
of Remandji's death spread; the people felt sorry, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
they loved him. There was mourning and lamentation
in the Apingi tribe.</p>
<p>A party among the people rose and exclaimed that
some of the neighboring people had killed their chief
by aniemba (witchcraft), because they were jealous of
him—jealous that he was my great friend—jealous that
he possessed me.</p>
<p>Another party, and a very powerful one, having on its
side the great doctors of the tribe, who had been consulted
about Remandji's death, declared that the Spirit himself,
meaning me, had killed Remandji, for I loved him
so much I could not part with him, and I wanted to take
his spirit with me wherever I went.</p>
<p>A few days after Remandji's death his son Okabi died
also. Fear seized upon the Apingi people. "Surely,"
said they, "the Spirit has killed Okabi and Remandji,"
and many were oppressed with a presentiment of death,
for many had been my friends, and from that day they
believed that when I left a country I killed my friends
in order not to part from them. The present chief of
the Apingi Land, having heard of my arrival, sent a deputation
to Olenda with the words "I do not want to see
the Spirit. I do not want to follow him, as Remandji
and his son have done, but rather prefer to stop at home
and eat plantain. This present world is good enough for
me."</p>
<p>The Apingi messengers were afraid of me, and had
gone back to their own country without waiting for my
appearance. So, after the departure of the Apingi messengers,
a great council of all the Ashira chiefs was held
to decide by which route I should be sent into the far
country.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span></p>
<p>It was determined at last that I should go through the
Otando country, and that messengers should be sent at
once to the king of that far-off land, telling him that
Olenda was to send me to him. Quengueza then made
his preparations to return to Goumbi.</p>
<p>I sent my men out hunting every day to drill them
and accustom them to fire-arms. I made them practice
shooting every day, so that they might become better
marksmen. I do not speak of Igala, who was what
might have been called a dead shot.</p>
<p>A few days after what I have just related to you, a
man called Elanga, a grand-nephew of Olenda, was taken
ill with a disease which the natives had never seen.
Elanga lived a long distance from our village, but his
people came to me to see what I could do for him. The
description they gave me was that of the small-pox. I
promised to go and see him the next day, but that day
the news came that Elanga had died. There was a great
deal of mourning and wailing among the people; they
all went to Elanga's village except Olenda, my Commi
men, and Quengueza's people.</p>
<p>Elanga had been to our camp to fetch our baggage, so
immediately the people said Elanga had been bewitched.
I went to see the body of Elanga; it could not have been
recognized. I was not mistaken; the worst type of confluent
or black small-pox had killed him. So when I saw
the people around him I tried to dissuade them from
touching him, and advised them to burn every thing
with which he had ever come in contact, even the house
where he slept. Nevertheless, the mourning ceremonies
took place as usual. My worst fears were realized. Soon
after, two cases occurred among the mourners; then it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
spread like wildfire. Pestilence had come over the land.
It came from the interior, and was working its way toward
the sea.</p>
<p>The plague broke out with terrible violence all over
the country. Olenda's village was attacked; Olenda's
favorite wife was the first victim. Every body who was
attacked died. It was in vain that I begged them to stop
their "mourning" ceremonies. Almost every body who
had attended Elanga's funeral had caught the plague
and died. A cry of anguish rose over the land.</p>
<p>I established a quarantine camp, and forbid my men
to move out of it. I was full of anxiety on account of
poor Quengueza.</p>
<p>Half of the people of Olenda had died; half of the
Ashira had gone down to their graves. Olenda is still
well.</p>
<p>I implored Quengueza to go back to his country. "If
you love me, Quengueza," I said, "go home." "No,"
said the old chief; "to leave you when you are in trouble!
I, Quengueza, do such a thing! No, Chally; the
people would laugh at me, and say 'Quengueza had no
power to help Chally on his way.'"</p>
<p>Things had now become gloomy indeed; the storm is
threatening. Rigoli, Quengueza's favorite little slave, had
taken the plague, which had at last invaded our premises.
Quengueza took him into his own hut. I was horror-struck
at the idea, and cried, "Do you want to die,
Quengueza?" His answer was beautiful. "I love Rigoli,"
said he; "he is the child of an old slave my brother
Oganda left me. I can take better care of him here.
If I get the plague it will be God's palaver." I looked
at this savage king, and his noble reply made me love<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
him more than ever. A few days afterward Rigoli was
dead.</p>
<p>Three several times a gang of men had been sent for
the transportation of my baggage to the Otando country;
three times within a few days the plague had carried
away the greater number of them.</p>
<p>I succeeded in making Quengueza send a large number
of his people back to Goumbi. Then thirty Ashira
men were mustered. I wanted them to go with my men
to the Otando country with part of the luggage. To this
my Commi men demurred. "How can we leave you
here? Who, in the midst of this fearful disease, shall
cook for you? Some of us must remain with you.
These Ashira may poison you by putting the gall of a
leopard into your food. Some of us will stay with you,
come what may; if we are to die, we will die by you."
Noble fellows!</p>
<p>So, with the thirty men which Olenda could now place
at my disposition, I sent Igala, Rebouka, Mouitchi, Rapelina,
Rogueri. Poor Olenda could only give me thirty
men, for his people were either down with the plague or
dead. Olenda promised solemnly to Quengueza that as
soon as the men came back he would send them with me
to the Otando.</p>
<p>In the mean time intelligence had been received that
the plague had reached the banks of the Rembo-Ovenga,
and that Bakalai and Commi were dying fast; so old
Quengueza took his departure for Goumbi, but not before
I took a good photograph of him.</p>
<p>Before he left us he said, "Chally, when you come
back with your people, bring me a big bell that rings
ding, dang, dong, a silver sword that will never rust, a
brass chest, and plenty of fine things."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p>
<p>I accompanied Quengueza part of the way over the
prairie. How sad I felt! for if I ever loved a friend I
loved friend Quengueza, and just before we were to turn
our backs upon each other there was a pause. "Chally,
go back to Olenda," said Quengueza to me. Then he
took my two hands in his own, blew upon them, and invoked
the spirits of his ancestors to follow me as they
had followed him. We looked in each other's face once
more for an instant, and parted, he going toward the sea,
and I toward the interior. I stood still as the old man
moved away; he turned several times to get a glimpse
of me, but soon disappeared in the tall grass of the prairie.
He had but few of his people with him, for the
plague had come heavily on Goumbi, and many had
died of it.</p>
<p>Quengueza had hardly left the country when the
plague became yet more terrible; not a day passed without
its hundreds of victims. A cry of anguish was all
over the land; the wailings, the mournful songs were
heard every where.</p>
<p>At last there were not left well people enough to fetch
food, and famine succeeded to the pestilence. My poor
Commi men, who went in search of food in the neighboring
villages, were driven back, threatened with death
by the terrified inhabitants, who shouted, "The Spirit
with whom you came has brought this <i>eviva</i> (plague)
upon us. What have we done to him?"</p>
<p>Not one of Olenda's numerous wives was well, but the
king remained my steadfast friend. He said to his sick
people that he remembered that when he was a boy the
same thing had come over the land. How glad I was to
have Olenda on my side!</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
<p>A few days after the departure of Quengueza, if you
had been in my little hut, you would have seen me seated
on the side of my bed, my head resting on my hands,
in utter loneliness and desolation of heart.</p>
<p>My boy Retonda had died and been buried that day.
How could I feel otherwise than unhappy when a whole
country was cursing me, and the people were more afraid
of me than of the plague itself?</p>
<p>In my own little hut Ngoma was lying near unto death;
the crisis had come to him; his pulse was low. Was he
to die also?</p>
<p>After a while I approached Ngoma, and said, "Ngoma,
my boy, how do you feel?" He could hardly speak; the
disease had gone also into his throat; he could not see—he
was blind; mortification had set in, and the smell emanating
from him was dreadful, and yet there I had to
sleep.</p>
<p>In the next hut to mine lay Igala-Yengo; he too was
taken with the plague. Poor Igala-Yengo was one of
Quengueza's slaves, and had said to his master that he
would go with me.</p>
<p>Those were indeed dark days for me. One morning,
as I went to ask old Olenda how he was, he said, "My
head pains me, and I am so thirsty." That day he laid
him down on his bed never to get up again. For two
days the fever increased, and part of the time I was by
his bedside. The good chief, seeing my sorrowful countenance,
would say, "Chally, do not grieve. It is not
your fault if I am sick. You have not made me ill."</p>
<p>Oh, these words sounded sweetly to me. I left him
toward nine o'clock in the evening to go to my hut to
get a little rest, and found poor Ngoma a little better.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
I did not want Macondai to sleep in my hut; he was
the only one besides myself that had not been seized by
the plague.</p>
<p>As I lay wide awake on my couch, suddenly I heard a
cry of anguish, a shriek from house to house. A shudder
came over me. Olenda was dead—Olenda, my only
friend, was dead.</p>
<p>As soon as that shriek was heard, Macondai, in despite
of my former orders, rushed into my hut and said, "Chally,
are your guns loaded? are your revolvers ready? for
I do not know what the Ashira may do, since the great
Olenda is dead."</p>
<p>I confess that I partook of Macondai's apprehensions,
but I said to him, "Be of good cheer, my boy; there is
but one God, and he will battle for us. Men can only
kill the body."</p>
<p>This was a terrible blow for me, the consequences of
which I could not foresee. Olenda, before dying, ordered
his people to take care of me, and in a short time
passed away as peacefully as if he had gone to sleep.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p128.png" width="125"
height="66" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><a name="dead"><img src="images/i_p129.png" width="450"
height="279" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
"OLENDA IS DEAD!"
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p131.png" width="400"
height="103" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
<p class="center">BURIAL OF OLENDA.—A DESOLATED VALLEY.—SUSPICIONS
AROUSED.—ROBBERY.—PAUL IN PERPLEXING CIRCUMSTANCES.—FREEING
A MAN FROM THE STOCKS.—RAVAGES
OF THE PLAGUE.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> day of Olenda's burial had come, but there were
hardly people enough left to bury him—such had been
the devastations of the plague. Not far from the village
stood in the prairie a little grove of trees, beneath whose
shade the chiefs of the Ademba clan, to which Olenda
belonged, were always buried; but it had been long since
an interment had taken place there, for Olenda had outlived
his brothers a score of years. All the people who
could came to the funeral of their chief.</p>
<p>Olenda looked as if he were asleep. They had dressed
him in the big coat I had given him, and came to ask me
if I would give to my friend Olenda the umbrella I had.
It was the only one I had, but I could not well refuse,
and I said, "Take it."</p>
<p>They bore Olenda's body to the grove of trees with
many manifestations of deep sorrow, shouting, "He will
not talk of us any more; he will not speak to us any
more. Oh, Olenda, why have you left us? Is it because
we are all dying?" I followed the body to the grave,
and I saw that they seated him on his big coat, and put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
over his head the umbrella I had given them for him.
By his side was placed a chest containing the presents I
had brought for him, and also plates, jugs, cooking utensils,
his favorite pipe, and some tobacco; a fire was kindled,
which was to be kept up from day to day for a long
time, and food and water was brought, which was also to
be daily replenished for an indefinite period.</p>
<p>Before dying, Olenda had told his people that he was
not to leave them entirely; he would come back from
time to time to see how they were getting on; so, for a
few days after his death, the people would swear that
they saw Olenda in the middle of the night walking in
the village, and that he had repeated to them that he
had not left them entirely.</p>
<p>The once beautiful Ashira, at the sight of which I had
fallen into ecstasies, had now become the valley of death.
Crazy men and women, made crazy only by the plague,
wandered about till they died on the road-side. Every
body was afraid of his neighbor; they had found out,
at last, that the disease was contagious, and when one got
it he was left to himself, and the poor creature would
die of starvation: his wife, his father, his mother, his sister,
his brother, if any such relatives had been left to him
by the plague, would fly away from him as from the curse
of God.</p>
<p>My Commi men did not come back; I wondered why,
and began to feel very anxious about them. What had
become of them? What a blunder I had made in letting
these men go ahead of me! I would have given the
world to see them again with me, for I did not know
what those far-away people would do to them.</p>
<p>Strange rumors came from the Otando country: the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
news was that the people did not want me to come, as I
carried with me the <i>eviva</i> (plague) wherever I went.</p>
<p>Several weeks passed away; no tidings of my men,
no tidings of Arangui, or of the Ashiras who had gone
with them. The plague was now diminishing in virulence
for want of victims, for, except Macondai and myself,
every body had been attacked with it, and those who
did not succumb had recovered or were fast recovering.
In the beginning, every body attacked was sure to die.</p>
<p>I began to feel suspicious, for three Otando men had
come to me and told me they had important intelligence
to communicate, but could not give it just then, and had
promised to come back after two days. Three days had
passed away, and I heard one night somebody talking in
a hut; I listened outside, and was rewarded by finding
out that the Ashiras had frightened away the three Otando
men, who had gone back to Mayolo.</p>
<p>At length three of my Commi men suddenly made
their appearance from Mayolo by themselves. I was
thunderstruck; the Ashiras of the village were frightened.
What did all this mean?</p>
<p>Rebouka, Mouitchi, and Rapelina were the good fellows.
Though it had taken four days to come from the
Otando country, they had found their way back. They
were armed to the teeth, and looked like terrible warriors.
Igala, tired of waiting for me, had sent them
back to see what was the matter.</p>
<p>I now learned that the Ashiras had returned long ago,
and, though weeks had passed away, I had seen none of
them. I heard also that several of the loads had never
reached Mayolo; that the porters had gone back to their
plantations with them; that Arangui was at the bottom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
of all the thieving; and that Igala, with all his threats,
could not make the porters sleep together near him at
night. Then, to cap the whole thing, they told me that
Arangui had seized one of the Otando men that had
come to see me, and that this was the reason why the
other two had fled.</p>
<p>"What is to be done?" said I to myself. "I must be
crafty and cunning, and as wise as a serpent." It would
never have done to get in a rage.</p>
<p>I told my men to keep quiet, and not to say a word
about the robbery. I did not want to frighten them—I
wanted more porters.</p>
<p>It did, indeed, require a great amount of self-control
for me to keep cool when I was quite certain that all the
men of the village knew that I had been plundered by
their own people, and that probably most of them had
been sharers of the plunder. Even Ondonga, who now
was chief of the village and a cousin of Arangui, knew
all about it. It is wonderful how savages can keep secrets:
not a child, not a woman, not a man in the country
had breathed to me the slightest word on the subject.</p>
<p>That night I kept revolving in my mind how I must
act to get out of the scrape. I said to myself, "I must
become a hypocrite, and fight cunning with cunning, in
order to win."</p>
<p>The next morning I said to my men, "Tell the Ashiras
that you have not said a word to me about the robbery,
for you were afraid that I might kill some of them if I
knew it; and tell Ondonga, Mintcho, and their people
that you know they are too great friends of mine and of
Quengueza to have had any thing to do with the plunder.
Tell them that you were obliged to tell me about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
Arangui and the seizure of the man in order to give
an excuse for your coming." I then dismissed them
with saying, "Boys, mind and do just as I have told
you."</p>
<p>To Ondonga, patting him on the shoulder, though I
felt like blowing out his brains, I said, "Ondonga, I know
that you are my friend; I know that the Olenda people
are good people. I know that you never knew of the
return of Arangui; if you had known it you would have
surely told me."</p>
<p>Ondonga swore that it was so; he would have told me
at once.</p>
<p>I shouted so that every body could hear me, "Of
course, Ondonga; I know that you would have told me,
for you have a heart, and would not tell a lie. Why did
friend Arangui do such a thing as to seize that Otando
man—Arangui, whom I loved so much? The only thing
Arangui can do is to give up the man. Must he not give
up the man, Ashiras?" I cried.</p>
<p>"Yes!" exclaimed the people; "Arangui must give
up the man."</p>
<p>I knew very well that no Ashira man would dare to
go into the Otando country after having put in nchogo
an Otando man, for they would all be seized, and then
who should carry my baggage?</p>
<p>Mintcho and Ondonga said to me, "We will go at once
to Arangui's plantation to see if he is there." "He must
have been hiding from us," said Mintcho, with a laugh.
"Hypocrite," said I to myself, "what a lying rascal you
are!"</p>
<p>They went to Arangui's plantation, and on their return,
as soon as they saw me, they shouted, "That is so;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
Arangui is back. Arangui is a <i>noka</i> (rogue, liar), and
none of us knew it."</p>
<p>"Ondonga, my friend," I whispered, "a necklace of
beads shall be on your neck to-night" (and I felt very
much like putting a rope around his neck and choking
him). "Now tell me the palaver."</p>
<p>Ondonga said, "Two dry and two rainy seasons ago,
the Otando people seized a relative of Arangui because
Arangui owed them two slaves and had not brought the
goods, and the man is still kept in nchogo (the native
stocks). Arangui wanted his relative back, and by keeping
that man he thought they would send back his relative."</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Nchogo"><img src="images/i_p136.png" width="450"
height="394" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
PRISONER IN NCHOGO.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
I knew that, according to African fashion, this palaver
would last several years. That would never do for me,
for I must be off.</p>
<p>My men said that what Ondonga had said was true;
they had heard so in the Otando country; so I sent Mintcho
back, and said to him, "Tell friend Arangui that he
must give up the man. If I had not to take care of my
people I would go and see him. Tell him that he must
do that for his friend Chally. Did not Arangui take
Quengueza and myself from Obindji's place to come
here?"</p>
<p>The two rascals Mintcho and Ondonga went again,
and several days elapsed before Arangui let the man go.
He did not do it until he was taken ill with the plague;
then he became frightened, and thought I was going to
kill him, so he immediately gave up the man, and Ondonga
and Mintcho brought him in triumph to me.
Poor fellow! his legs were dreadfully lacerated.</p>
<p>The plague was in its last stage. Arangui had been
the only one who had not taken it before. The Otando
man had not had it, and I was afraid he would catch it.
If he were to die of it in the country of the Ashiras, not
one of them would dare to go into that of the Otandos,
and that would be the end of my trip; so it was necessary
that I should hurry my departure. If it had not
been for the rascality of Arangui I would have been in
the Otando country two months ago. The thought of
this made my blood boil, and I felt very much like hanging
Arangui to the nearest tree.</p>
<p>It was the first time that I had been robbed in Africa,
and that by Olenda's people. I knew they would not
have done it if their old chief had been alive.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
What a sea of trouble poor Paul Du Chaillu had to
contend with! Indeed, these were days of trial; but I
had to face them, and I faced them manfully, though
several times I was on the verge of despair.</p>
<p>By some means news of the death of Olenda had
reached Quengueza, and I was astonished one day to receive
a messenger from him with word that, as Olenda
had left no people to carry me and my goods to the next
country, he was coming to take me to another Ashira
clan that had people. This frightened Ondonga, and he
tried hard to get porters for me.</p>
<p>Terrible tidings now came from Goumbi: all the
Goumbi people that had come with Quengueza to the
Ashira country had died of the plague; nearly all the
nephews of Quengueza were dead; Obindji had died,
and every Bakalai chief. In some of the Bakalai villages
not a human being had been left. Death had
come over the land. But Quengueza had been spared;
the plague had not touched him, though his head slave,
good old Mombon, was no more.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p138.png" width="125"
height="85" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p139.png" width="400"
height="81" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
<p class="center">DEPARTURE FROM ASHIRA LAND.—A SILENT LEAVE-TAKING.—THIEVISH
PORTERS.—A CUNNING OLD RASCAL.—MISFORTUNE
ON MISFORTUNE.—WITHOUT FOOD IN THE FOREST.—A
DESPERATE PLOT.—FEASTING ON MONKEY-MEAT.—OUT
OF THE WOODS.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> threat of Quengueza had the desired effect. At
last Ondonga succeeded in getting porters, who, with my
own men, made the number of our company about thirty.
No amount of pay could induce more to come.
They were afraid of trouble. They could not tell what
the trouble would be, but they had a vague fear that
something dreadful was impending.</p>
<p>Every thing that we could not take with us I either
gave away or destroyed.</p>
<p>Early in the morning of the 16th of March I left
Ashira Land. How I had suffered in that poor, unfortunate
land! The plague had destroyed the people, and
the survivors accused me of having destroyed the victims
of the plague. Then things had looked so dark that
many and many a time I thought the end had come;
that no more explorations were to be made, and I fully
expected to be murdered by the infuriated savages.</p>
<p>My party of ten Commi men had been reduced to seven.
Retonda had died; Rogueri, a slave, had run away,
and it was he who had advised the Ashira to rob me, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
who had tried to disabuse them of my power. The
plague had disabled Igala-Yengo. He was going back
to Goumbi now that he was much better, and he was to
take letters for me.</p>
<p>I felt thankful that God had spared the lives of so
many of my men, for Rebouka, Mouitchi, and Rapelina
took it on their return from Otando.</p>
<p>I was anxious about Macondai; he was the only one
who had not had the plague, as you are aware; and, leaving
the Ashira country, I knew that I was going into a
country where the plague had not yet disappeared.</p>
<p>This time there was no gun-firing as we left old Olenda's
village, no singing, nothing—we left silently. I had
misgivings. I thought of mischief brewing ahead, and I
was not mistaken.</p>
<p>That day we crossed the Ovenga, and followed a path
which led to one of Olenda's large plantations; there I
found a considerable village of Olenda's slaves, a slave
himself being chief over the village. His name was Mayombo.</p>
<p>All the porters did not reach the place that evening.
Ondonga himself had not come. The next morning he
came with the news that several of the porters had run
away, leaving their boxes in the path, and that he had
been compelled to go back and fetch more porters.</p>
<p>Then I discovered that three boxes of goods were missing,
and I became furious. Ondonga got frightened; I
knew the rascal was at the bottom of the mischief, and
once or twice I felt like making an example of him by
calling a council of war, composed of my men and myself,
and, upon the clear proof of his guilt, shooting him
dead on the spot.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
<p>Ondonga swore that he would find the thieves; but the
boxes came back, and they had been broken open, and
many things were missing. Ondonga pretended to be
in a violent rage, and declared in a loud voice that there
should be war, and that the thieves should be sold into
slavery. It was all I could do to restrain myself from
breaking the fellow's head.</p>
<p>The acting was superb. The old chief and some of
the slaves seized their spears, and shouted, "Let us go
after the thieves!" They hurried out of the place shouting,
cursing, and vowing death to the thieves. They were
the thieves themselves; but I kept cool, and thought the
day of reckoning would come.</p>
<p>Misfortune seemed to come upon misfortune. That
day Macondai complained of a violent back-ache. He
had the plague; this was one of the first symptoms.</p>
<p>What could I do? When we left the plantation the
dear good fellow tried to walk with us, but he became
so ill that we were forced to come to a stand in the
woods. No greater calamity could have befallen me. I
felt as if I could cry, for my fortitude was on the point
of giving way, and it seemed as though the hand of God
was against me.</p>
<p>When any thing very important had taken or was
about to take place, it was always my custom to summon
my Commi men, and hold a council to see what was to
be done. So my faithful body-guard were now summoned
to my side. As soon as we were seated together,
every one of us wearing an anxious look, I said, "Boys,
you will go ahead; I will remain here and take care of
Macondai."</p>
<p>The men said, "No, Chally." Macondai himself said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
no. "If we go without you," said the men, "they will
begin stealing again." "If you do not go," said Macondai
at once, "you will not have one porter left, for I heard
to-day some say they were afraid to follow you; they
were afraid on account of those who had robbed you;
and if you give them time to talk together, they will
agree to run away. Go now, Chally," said Macondai,
"for if you do not you will never reach Mayolo. I shall
get well."</p>
<p>After some consultation it was agreed that Igalo
should remain with Macondai on a small plantation near
at hand, and Ondonga said the Ashira would take care
of him. I could not bear parting with Macondai. I
knew, of course, that the Ashira would not dare to murder
him, but then he was ill.</p>
<p>After making every possible provision I could for the
comfort of the sick boy, and enjoining upon Igalo never
to leave him, and after weighing out medicine to be given
him at stated times, we continued our march; but I
was so wretched that I can not describe to you my feelings.</p>
<p>The traveling was exceedingly toilsome. The men
were overloaded, and I myself carried on my back in my
otaitai over sixty pounds of ammunition, besides having
my heavy revolvers slung by my side, and my most formidable
double-barreled breech-loader on my shoulder.
The path—for there was a path—lay through a most picturesque
country, and along a mountain range, extending
north and south, which lies between the country of the
Ashira and the Otandos. The hills of this range were
very much broken up, so that we did nothing else than
make continuous ascents and descents. The forest was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
dense, and impeded with numerous blocks of quartz
which lay strewn along the path nearly all the way, and
quartz crystals covered the beds of the sparkling rivulets
that flowed at the bottom of every valley.</p>
<p>It was very tiresome indeed, and I felt sad, very sad,
for I knew not how things would end. I kept thinking
of Macondai. I was not master of the position; they
might rob me. I could do nothing, for two of my men
were left in their hands—Igalo and Macondai.</p>
<p>The second day of our march we came to the River
Louvendji, which I had crossed, if you remember, in former
years going to the Apingi country; and very beautiful
the Louvendji is. The banks where we forded the
river were lined with beautiful palm-trees.</p>
<p>The porters began to lag behind under the pretext that
the loads were too heavy for them. For two days I had
succeeded in making all the porters keep up with me
and sleep in my bivouac; but there was not much sleep
for me or my men, for we had to keep a sharp look on
the porters, though they were not armed, lest they should
have given word to their people beforehand to hide spears
and bows and arrows somewhere in the forest near where
they knew we would camp for the night.</p>
<p>The third night, in despite of all my endeavors, some
of the men would not keep pace with us; so, when I ordered
the people to stop for the night, Mintcho and a few
men were missing. I knew at once that something was
wrong, and I said to the Ashira that were with me that
if I saw one of them move off I would shoot him on the
spot.</p>
<p>The next morning we waited for Mintcho and the men,
and they made their appearance an hour after sunrise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
Mintcho immediately affected to be very angry with them.
"I waited for you," shouted he, "and you did not come,
so I could not come and sleep by the side of my friend
Chally. Where did you sleep? I blew the horn and you
did not answer."</p>
<p>He raised some of the boxes from the ground, and
cried, "Yes, these are not as heavy as they were; you
have been stealing my white man's things; you are
thieves." At this the culprits got frightened for fear
of punishment from me, and, leaving their loads in the
road, fled into the jungle.</p>
<p>Then came a tremendous excitement. The men openly
declared that it was no use to go farther with the white
man, for they would not get any pay, as some people had
robbed him; that they had worked for nothing.</p>
<p>It was a plot; they were all in it. I saw that they
wanted to leave me in the forest. Some had not dared
to steal, but Mintcho was the chief thief. I forgot myself,
and accused him of it. It was a mistake on my part.
Mintcho appeared to be terribly angry at my accusing
him. I saw the blunder at once, and I retracted and
said that his people had stolen my property, and I did not
see why he should not be responsible for them; that such
was the law of the country. "But," said I, "Mintcho, I
know that you are my friend, and that you would not do
such a thing yourself." As we were talking, more porters
ran away, leaving their loads on the ground.</p>
<p>This strange scene had taken place at a distance from
any river. Things had come to a crisis; something was
to be done at once, or I should be left alone in the woods.
Mintcho and a few porters were the only ones left. I
could not allow them to go; so, calling my Commi men,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145"></a><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146"></a><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
I said, pointing my gun at Mintcho, "If you make a step
one way or the other, you are a dead man." In the mean
time my men, pointing their guns at the Ashira, shouted,
"You are dead men if you move." The fact was simply
that, if Macondai and Igalo had not been left behind,
there would have been bloodshed. Apprehensions for
their safety alone prevented me from resorting to very
strong measures.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Measures"><img src="images/i_p146.png" width="450"
height="282" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
DECISIVE MEASURES.
</div></div>
<p>So I said, "Mintcho and you Ashira men must take
those loads and carry them to the river; then you will
come back and take what remains to the same place, till
every one of the packages has been carried thither. If
you try to run away you will be shot;" and I ordered all
my Commi men, who had now become furious, to shoot
down the first man that tried to escape into the jungle.
"Follow them," said I to Rebouka; "never let Mintcho
move from you more than a step; shoot him dead if he
goes two yards." Rebouka swore that he would shoot
him dead. Mouitchi, Ngoma, and Rapelina followed the
other Ashiras.</p>
<p>So they went, I remaining all alone to watch the goods.
I had become furious, and it required all my self-command
not to shoot Mintcho as a robber. I kept the
sharpest lookout in every direction; my revolvers were
ready, and all my double-barreled guns were loaded and
by me; but nobody came.</p>
<p>Rebouka, my Commi, and the Ashira came back a
short time afterward. They had left the loads near a
stream, and Mouitchi had remained behind watching
them with six guns by his side. His orders were to fire
on the first Ashira that came from the woods. Our blood
was up, and we were getting desperate.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
<p>The Ashiras took each another load, and I repeated
again to Rebouka and the Commi men to shoot them
down as they would shoot a monkey if any should try
to run away.</p>
<p>At last all the baggage was safely deposited on the
margin of a little stream, where we were to build our
camp.</p>
<p>The Ashiras then became really frightened, and began
to think they should never get back to their country.
That night I remained awake with my men, and they
saw that they could not escape. I had become vindictive,
and they knew it. Mintcho seized my feet, and
shouted, "Do not kill us; let me go, and keep the other
hostages. I will have all the things that have been stolen
restored to you. I will make the porters come back."
"No," said I, "Mintcho, there is no going away for you;
if you move a step you are dead;" and, to frighten him,
I fired a gun at a tree, and he saw that the bullet had
made a great gash in the tree.</p>
<p>Then I ordered Mintcho and an Ashira, with one of
my Commi, to go to Mayolo to get porters. At first they
would not do it. They were afraid. The game they
had played had not been quite as successful as they had
expected.</p>
<p>We had no food; it rained every night, and we could
find no large leaves to shelter us from the heavy fall of
water. Oh dear! how far off was Mayolo? It was clear
that strong measures must be taken immediately.</p>
<p>There was still with us our Otando prisoner whom
Arangui had given back to me. So I said, "Mouitchi,
hurry to Mayolo with that man, and tell Mayolo to send
men and food at once, so that we may go to his country."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
Mouitchi departed with the Otando man, taking with
him a necklace of large beads for Mayolo.</p>
<p>I was now left with Mintcho and seven Ashira rascals,
and had only two of my faithful Commi men with me—Rebouka
and Ngoma—to keep watch over them. We
were encamped in a small open space in the loneliest
and gloomiest part of the forest, by the path leading to
the Otando country. We were absolutely without food.
Rebouka, Ngoma, and myself agreed to keep watch over
our eight Ashiras, who were now our prisoners. Now
and then the rascals would pretend to be asleep, and
snored hard. They lay on one side of the path, and we
were on the other side, with the luggage piled by us.
They saw there was no escape, for two of us were always
wide awake, with all our guns by our side ready to
fire into the first man who tried to run away.</p>
<p>The Ashiras felt that they were caught, and began to
curse those who had robbed me. Mintcho was accused
by two of them as having been at the bottom of the
whole plot. Mintcho got angry, and swore that it was
a lie. I knew that they had told the truth.</p>
<p>It was very plain that something must be done, or we
should die of hunger, unless the Mayolo men came with
food. If it had been the season of the koola-nut, we
should have had plenty to eat. So I determined to go
into the bush in search of food, and ordered an Ashira
to follow me to find berries for his people. I again instructed
Rebouka and Ngoma to shoot Mintcho or the
Ashiras if they tried to escape. I was getting very weak;
for, besides the want of food, anxiety had almost killed
me. I really could hardly walk when I left the camp.
I came back without game. I had heard a gorilla, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
if I could have killed him we should have had plenty to
eat, but he ran away before I came up with him.</p>
<p>That evening I felt so exhausted that I said to my
Commi boys, "I will rest a little. Keep watch; let not
one of these rascals escape. Talk all the time; tell stories;
then I will keep watch after I awake, and you shall
go to sleep."</p>
<p>There was no sleep for me, and I began to think I was
getting crazy for want of food. I thought of home, of
dinners, of beef and mutton, and I recalled the hot turkey,
and the fish, and the buckwheat cakes; I could remember
distinctly several dinners that had taken place
years before, and I could have named every dish that
came on the table in those days of plenty.</p>
<p>I sent two Ashiras with Rebouka out to hunt, warning
them that if they tried to run away they would be killed,
and that I would put to death every Ashira that remained
in my hands. I assumed a fierce look, and swore
that I would do it.</p>
<p>They were more successful than I had been. They
came back with two monkeys.</p>
<p>Mintcho and the Ashiras put the meat before me, and
insisted that I should eat it all alone, saying that they
were accustomed to starving, and could wait. How
strange, I thought, these Ashiras were! They had tried
to leave me in the woods; they had plundered me, no
doubt thinking that I could get other goods; and, in despite
of the hard treatment they were now subjected to,
their hearts yearned toward me in kindness.</p>
<p>I said, "Ashiras, we are all hungry together, and I will
divide the meat in exactly equal portions." This astounded
the Ashiras, for with them the chief had always
the lion's share.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
<p>Those monkeys made a delicious repast. How I enjoyed
my share! they were so fat and so nice—only we
could have eaten ten monkeys instead of two.</p>
<p>As the Otando people appeared, the allayed fears of
the Ashiras returned; they began to believe that I had
sent word by Mouitchi for the Otandos to come in great
force, and that I was to take them captive for their
treachery. Once more some of them wanted to go
back. I swore that they could not go; that I would
shoot them down; and that, if any escaped, Quengueza
would make war upon the Ashiras, and capture all those
who had come to trade on the banks of his river, and
then would call on all the Ashira people to destroy the
clan of Olenda.</p>
<p>This talk was hardly ended when I thought I heard
voices far in the distance. "Hark!" said I to my Commi,
"I hear voices." Were they the Otando people, or
were they the Ashiras coming back to rescue their men?
I immediately placed the Ashiras in a group together,
tied their hands behind their backs, and got the guns in
readiness, for I was getting desperate. If the Ashiras
dared to come, they were to be met with a warm reception
of bullets.</p>
<p>I was mistaken; the Otandos were coming. A gun is
fired—up bounded Rapelina to the rescue, followed by a
long line of Otando men laden with food sent by King
Mayolo. A wild hurra from every body, including the
Ashiras, welcomed the party. That night we rested and
feasted in order to be strong for the journey. I slept
well, and it was the first good rest I had had for a long
time. The next morning I awoke very much refreshed,
and at sunrise the horns of the Otandos blew the signal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
for our departure. It had been raining hard during the
night, and the rain-drops on the leaves of the trees glittered
in the early sunlight. We marched off at great
speed, for I was determined not to sleep another night in
the forest. On the tramp we crossed a river called the
Oganga, on the banks of which the koola-trees were
growing luxuriantly. Nuts in abundance were lying on
the ground, and the men fed on them, after which we
continued our journey. I remember well it was the 10th
of March, in the evening, just at sunset, that we emerged
from the solitude of the forest into the Otando prairie,
so called because the Otandos lived on it. Never shall
I forget how glad I felt when I came on the margin of
the forest, and saw the blue sky appearing through the
breaks in the tree-tops.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p152.png" width="100"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p153.png" width="375"
height="80" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2>
<p class="center">IN THE OPEN COUNTRY AT LAST.—INTERVIEW WITH MAYOLO.—IGALA
FALLS SICK.—A MUTINY.—THE OTANDO
PRAIRIE ON FIRE.—RETURN OF MACONDAI AND IGALO.—THEIR
ADVENTURES.—ALL TOGETHER AGAIN.</p>
<p class="p2">A <span class="smcap">stretch</span> of open undulating country was before me.
Guns were fired by my men, and soon after I entered the
first Otando village. It was the village of Mayolo, who
was the only chief that was willing to receive me. We
went right to the ouandja, and I seated myself in the
centre of the building. Soon after, the beating of the
kendo was heard; Mayolo, the chief, his body streaked
with alumbi chalk, was coming, muttering mysterious
words as he advanced toward me. When he came nearer,
he shouted, "Here is the great Spirit, with his untold
wealth." The language of the Otando people was the
same as that of the Ashiras, so I had no difficulty in understanding
him. He looked at me with perfect astonishment
for a while, and then told me the trouble he had
with his people on my account, since they did not want
me to come into the country; "for," said they, "he brings
the plague and death wherever he goes." "I told them
that the plague had killed our people before we ever
heard of you, and that the plague was in our country before
it went to the Ashira Land to kill the people there."</p>
<p>"That was right," said I; "Mayolo, I love you; I kill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
no people—I send no plague. I will be your friend, and
the friend of your people."</p>
<p>As Mayolo was talking to me, I took a good look at
him. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and almost yellow
in color; his eyes were small and piercing. When young
he had gone toward the sea, and in his trading had succeeded
in buying a gun, and, not knowing how to load it,
it had burst and taken off three of his fingers while firing
at an elephant.</p>
<p>After Mayolo had retired, a large goat and two enormous
bunches of plantains were brought before me. I
wish you could have seen the faces of my Commi men,
the prospect of a good meal made them grin so complacently.</p>
<p>Immediately after Mayolo had taken leave of me I
went to see Igala. Poor Igala was very sick: the plague
had seized him; his body seemed a mass of putrid flesh.
How glad he was to see me! I do believe he would have
died if I had not come to take care of him. There he
lay in a large hut, with all my goods around him. I went
to him, took hold of both his hands, and looked him in
the face. He said, "Chally, are you not afraid to get the
plague by taking my hands?" "No," said I; "Igala, I
will take care of you as if you were my brother." Immediately
I warmed some water in a kettle, and then
washed him delicately, and he felt more comfortable.</p>
<p>Poor Igala! he was my right arm, my fighting man.
I depended upon him.</p>
<p>The next morning, opening my packages and boxes, I
saw the sad havoc the Ashira thieves had made with my
goods. They had stolen a great deal, but, strange to say,
they had left a certain quantity in each parcel.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
<p>I felt furious at the discovery. Oh, how sorry I was
that Igalo and Macondai had remained behind; for, if
they had not, the Ashiras would never have gone back to
their own country: I would have made porters of them.</p>
<p>I boldly accused Mintcho of the robbery, and seized
the gun he had. The hypocritical rascal pretended to be
in a rage at the discovery I had made; he foamed at the
mouth, and exclaimed, "Let me go back, Chally; I will
find the robbers, and kill them if they do not give up every
thing you have lost."</p>
<p>Just at this time his brother Ayagui came, with a gun
which Rebouka had foolishly lent him. I ordered him
to give up the gun; he was unwilling, and threatened to
shoot the first man who approached him. When I heard
this, I ordered my four Commi men to level their guns at
him and shoot him dead if in an instant he did not lay
it on the ground. The gun was handed to Mayolo.</p>
<p>The Ashiras thought the end of Ayagui had come, and
fled in the direction of the forest. We pursued them,
and captured one, whom I resolved to retain as a hostage
for the restitution of my property; but it so happened
that the captive was the son of Adingo, an Ashira chief
who was a good friend of mine. The guilty Ashiras
were terribly frightened, and I shouted, "Bring the things
back, and the boy shall be returned."</p>
<p>Mintcho, in his flight, passed near Igala, who could
have seized him, but, as his shelter was a little way off,
Igala did not suspect his intentions, and let him escape,
thinking that he was only going into the woods.</p>
<p>The Otando people had seen by our prompt action of
what stuff we were made. I regretted the necessity for
such measures, but it was the first time since I began my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
travels that the natives had dared to rob me on the road,
and the news would spread. All this was Rogueri's doings.</p>
<p>In the mean time, Rebouka had secured our little prisoner
so tightly with ropes that he fairly moaned with
pain. As I came up to him, he said, "Chally, you are
my father's great friend. I am but a child; I can not
run away. The Ashiras will come back with all your
stolen goods. I am your boy; I did not leave you in
the woods, but followed you here. Do loosen the cords
which hurt me so much." I ordered Rebouka to slacken
the cords, which he did; but he remonstrated firmly, saying
that I was too kind; that I did not know negroes; that
negroes were not children at that age. "Do you think,"
said he, "that a child could have come from the Ashira
country here with the load this boy has carried?" We
then secured him under the veranda of my hut, and I set
a watch over him during the night. Mayolo recommended
me to keep a good lookout on the boy, "for," said he,
"the goods are sure to come back." Adingo was a powerful
chief, and, as soon as he should hear of the cause
of his son's captivity, he would threaten war, and, in order
to secure peace, every thing would have to be returned.</p>
<p>The moon was full, and it was quite light, so that every
thing around could be easily seen.</p>
<p>Rebouka was right; I had loosened the cords too much,
and the cunning little fellow escaped during that first
night. I felt sorry, for I knew now that nothing that
had been stolen would ever come back, especially with
Macondai and Igalo in the hands of the Ashiras; but,
after all, I did not feel so badly as if some others of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span>
Ashiras had run away. If I had only secured Mintcho,
I assure you he would never have run away. Happily
I had a great many goods left, and all the scientific instruments
necessary to make astronomical observations.</p>
<p>The next morning Mayolo, being the head man of his
clan, ordered the chiefs of the different villages of the
clan to come to see me. They came, and a grand reception
took place. Mayolo made a great speech. I gave
presents to the men who had come to fetch me out of
the woods, and to all the leading men and women. Then
Mayolo shouted, pointing to the goods, "This is the plague
the Spirit brings."</p>
<p>We had hardly been four days in Otando Land when
Mayolo fell ill. How sorry I felt! Fear seized upon his
people. Surely I was an evil spirit. Olenda had died;
I had killed him, and now I wanted to kill Mayolo.
Night after night I was kept awake with anxiety, for
Mayolo was very unwell. I found that he had a disease
of the heart; his sufferings were intense at times, and his
moanings filled me with distress. Surely if Mayolo was
to die I could not advance a step farther inland.</p>
<p>A few days after my arrival I had an uncomfortable
fright; the Otando prairie became a sheet of fire, and
threatened the destruction of the village of Mayolo.
Should the fire get into the village, I said to myself,
what a terrible explosion would take place! So I immediately
called the men and moved the powder into the
woods. Happily, the natives prevented the fire from
reaching the village.</p>
<p>Time went on slowly, and one day, about noon, as I
was wondering when Igalo and Macondai would come
back to us, I heard guns fired in the forest. My Commi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
men at that time were round me. Perhaps the Ashiras
were coming back with their plunder! We looked
toward the path which led into the forest, when lo! what
should we see but Macondai, my boy, and Igalo. They
were safe. A wild cheer welcomed them, and they went
directly to the olako or hospital, where Igala and Rebouka
were confined with confluent small-pox, for, since my
return Rebouka had been seized with the malady. Igalo
left Macondai with them, and continued his way to
our village, to give me mbolo, "good-morning salutation."
The Otando people seemed almost as delighted as ourselves.
We were again all together. I had now learned
wisdom, and promised myself never to divide our party
again, happen what might. After I had heard the news
from Igalo, I went to the camp, and there I looked at
my boy Macondai, and took his hand into mine. What
a sight! Poor Macondai was more frightfully disfigured
than I could possibly have imagined, or than I can describe,
and I shuddered as I gazed upon him. A chill
ran through me as I thought he might not yet recover,
but I felt so thankful that I had all the medicines necessary
for his proper treatment.</p>
<p>"Macondai, my boy," I said, "you do not know how
glad I am to see you. You do not know how often I
have thought of you; indeed, several times I wanted to
go back for you."</p>
<p>I seated myself on a log of wood, and all was silence
for a little while. Then Macondai spoke and said, "Chally,
I have been very ill; I thought I would die." The
boy's throat was too full; he could say no more. Then
Igalo, his companion, became the spokesman, and I give
you the whole of his speech just as it was written out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159"></a><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160"></a><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
by me at the time. "Chally, after you left us we went
to an olako in a plantation close by, where we slept.
Ondonga took us there, saying that the head man was
his ogoï (relation), and that he would take care of us.
Then he said he was going to Ademba (Olenda village),
to see how things were getting along in the village, and
that he would return in two days. He borrowed from
us our cutlass, saying that he would return it when he
came back. This was the last we saw of him. Then
the next day the chief came and said he wanted his pay
for keeping us, as we staid in his olako. Finally he
agreed that he would wait till Macondai could get well.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Macondai"><img src="images/i_p159.png" width="450"
height="280" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
MEETING WITH MACONDAI.
</div></div>
<p>"Four days after you had gone, some of the boys who
had accompanied you returned. We knew that they
could not have gone to the Otando country and got back
in so short a time, and, being well aware themselves that
we knew it, they said at once, 'We have left Chally with
Mintcho and the other people one day's journey from
the Otando country, for we have had palavers with the
Otando people, and we were afraid to proceed farther
for fear that the Otando people would seize us;' and they
also went away. Some time afterward Ayagui and
Etombi made their appearance. They said they had left
you well, but that you said you would not pay them until
Macondai had come to the Otando; and they added,
'Make haste, Macondai, and cure yourself, so that we
may go. If you were well now, I would say we must go
in two days; that would just give us time to rest and get
food for the journey.' Then, as they were leaving, they
said they would come back in two days. This was the
last we saw of them. Then the chief wanted us to move
off. Macondai said he was so ill that he could not move;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
'I would rather die where I am.' I did not want," said
Igalo, "to go back to the plantation or to the village. I
had had enough of Olenda's village. Then the chief
took another tack. 'What shall I do?' said he. 'Ondonga,
who brought you to me, has not again shown
himself here; he has deserted you.' And he added,
'These people have come back. Chally has seized two
gangs of slaves because the Ashira stole some of his
things, and Mintcho has come to see if he can get the
things back, for one of the gangs seized belongs to him,
and the other to Ondonga.' The chief left us after saying
this, telling us that he was going to see a friend, and
would come back in the evening, and we never saw him
again. Three days afterward two old men and three
young lads came; they slept near us, and said, 'Igalo,
you must not stop washing Macondai's body; we see that
you wash only his leg.' By seeing me taking great care
of Macondai's leg they thought we probably intended to
leave, which we wanted to do as soon as Macondai was
well enough to walk. Then they added, 'Go to the
spring, and fetch plenty of water, and wash Macondai
well, for this disease requires it.' Then," said Igalo, "I
went to the spring, and during the time I was gone they
plundered us of our things, seized the gun I had left behind,
and Macondai's double-barreled gun, a box containing
beads and our clothes, and escaped to the woods, and
when I came back with the water I learned our misfortune.
They had come to the plantation under the pretext
of getting plantains.</p>
<p>"When I saw how things stood—that we had not a gun
with which to defend ourselves—mistrusting the Ashiras,
I thought best to leave the place, and said to Macon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>dai,
'Let us go.' Rebouka had told us the road before
you left for the Otando, so we loaded ourselves with
plantains which we got in the plantations, and left at
once, with the utmost speed, the deserted olako, and we
have been four nights and four days on the road."</p>
<p>"Well done!" we shouted with one voice; "well done,
boys! Macondai and Igalo, you are men! you are men!"</p>
<p>"Then," added Igalo, "I forgot to tell you that the
man of the olako had told us that Mintcho and Ondonga
had made a plot for a general robbery, but that you
watched them so closely that they could not accomplish
it."</p>
<p>I was so angry that I felt very much like going to the
Ashira country, all of us armed to the teeth, when my
followers should have quite regained their health and
strength, and carrying fire and sword through all the villages
that belonged to the clan of Olenda, and raising
the whole country against them. I knew I could have
done this easily, but then I had not come to make war.</p>
<p>After hearing the pitiful story of Macondai and Igalo
I went back to the village, and heated some water in one
of my huge kettles; then, returning to the camp, I gave
poor Macondai a tepid bath with a sponge, and ordered
some chicken soup to be prepared for the sufferer.</p>
<p>How poor Macondai enjoyed his soup! It did me
good to see him lap it up. I had forbidden him to eat
any thing without my permission, telling him that I
should feed him well, so that he might get strong, but
that it would be some few days before I could let him
eat to his heart's content, for he had been starved so long
that I was afraid he would get ill if he was permitted to
indulge his appetite to repletion.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
<p>Though filled with anxiety about Macondai, I slept
well that night. We were all together again; it was so
nice, for getting all our party together again gave me a
lively satisfaction.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p164.png" width="125"
height="124" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p165.png" width="400"
height="84" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
<p class="center">TERRIBLE STORMS OF THUNDER.—DAYS OF ANXIETY.—SHOOTING
AN ANTELOPE.—BRIGHTER PROSPECTS.—MAYOLO
HAS A HARD TIME WITH HIS DOCTORS.—BASKET-MAKING.</p>
<p class="p2">H<span class="smcap">ow</span> strange the Otando prairie looks since the fire
has burnt the grass! Tens of thousands of gigantic
mushroom-like ant-hills are seen every where. I had
never met such a great number before. I have given
you a picture of these queer ant-hills in my "Apingi
Kingdom."</p>
<p>We are in the season of tornadoes, of thunder and
lightning. Hardly a day passes that some terrible storm
does not burst upon us; and such thunder—how terrific!
We have not the slightest idea at home of what thunder
is. Among the mountains here it is perfectly appalling
and terrific. It is grand and sublime, and fills one with
awe. The whole of the heavens at times seems entirely
illuminated by the lightning; and I find that it rains quite
often during the day. The heaviest tornadoes in these
regions seem to occur in the month of April.</p>
<p>Days pass in the Otando country which are full of
anxiety for me. Mayolo is sick, and some of my Commi
men are down with the plague. Oh dear, how the time
is going! How far the head waters of the Nile are!
What a tremendous journey ahead! How many days<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
of hunger do I see looming before me; how many days
of sickness and of anxious care! But my heart is strong.
God has been kind to me. The plague has spared me;
it has been around me; it has lived with me, and in my
own dwelling; and I stand safe amid the desolation that
it has spread over the country. I am surrounded here
by savage men. May I live uprightly, so that, after I
have left, the people may think well of me!</p>
<p>But when am I ever to leave this Otando country?
Just as I am wondering over this, and thinking of the
principal events that have taken place since I left the
sea-shore, my revery is broken by the barking of my
dogs in the prairie. I look, and what do I see? A beautiful
antelope closely pursued by my six dogs. Andèko,
and Commi-Nagoumba, and Rover cling to the
neck of the antelope, with their teeth in the flesh, while
Turk, Fierce, and Ndjègo are barking and biting the poor
creature wherever they can. I run with the villagers in
chase. Soon I am on the spot, and, aiming carefully at
the beast, I bring it down with a single shot. It is a
very fine hart. There is great joy in the village, and I
divide the meat among the villagers, giving a big piece
to friend Mayolo, who is delighted, for he says he is very
fond of antelope's meat.</p>
<p>By the end of April things began to look bright.
Mayolo was getting well; Macondai was improving very
fast, and Igala and Rebouka were almost recovered. But,
as soon as Mayolo got better, he was more afraid than
ever of witchcraft, and he and his people had a great
time in "pona oganga." Pona oganga is a strange ceremony,
which I am about to describe to you. It was performed
because Mayolo wanted to know who were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167"></a><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168"></a><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
people who had bewitched his place, and made the plague
come among his people.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Antelope"><img src="images/i_p167.png" width="450"
height="280" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
HUNTING AN ANTELOPE.
</div></div>
<p>A great doctor had been sent for, and, after his arrival,
he went into a hut, carrying with him a large bag. Soon
afterward he came out, looking horribly. He was dressed
in a most fantastic manner: his body was painted with
ochre of three different colors—red, white, and black; he
wore a necklace formed of bones, the teeth of animals,
and seeds; around his waist was a belt of leather, from
which dangled the feathers of the ogoloungoo; and his
head-dress was made of a monkey's skin. As he came
out he spoke in an unnatural and hollow voice, then
filled a large basin with water, looked intently into it,
and shook his head gravely, as if the signs were bad.
Then he lighted a big torch, and looked steadily at the
flame, as if trying to discover something, moved the torch
over the water, shook his body terribly, smoked a condo-quai,
made a number of contortions and gestures, and
again spoke in a loud tone, repeating the same words
over and over. The people, in the mean time, were silent,
and looked at the great man attentively. Then he
gazed steadily into the water again, and said, while the
people listened in breathless silence, "There are people
in your own village who want to bewitch it, and bring
the plague and kill people." Immediately a great commotion
took place. The crowd shouted, "Death to the
sorcerers!" and rose up and swore vengeance. "The
mboundou must be drunk!" cried Mayolo; "we want no
wizards or witches among us." The paths leading to
the village were closed. No strangers were to be admitted.</p>
<p>The next morning the village was empty; the people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
had all gone into the woods. I could hear their voices;
they had gone to make some of their number drink the
mboundou.</p>
<p>Poor Mayolo really had a hard time with his different
doctors. He was continually changing them, and they
came from all the adjacent villages. At last he gave up
the men doctors, and had a celebrated female doctor, an
old, wrinkled woman, who had gained a great reputation.
The visit of a physician among these people is very unlike
that of a physician at home. This female doctor
was a very singular person. She appeared to be about
sixty years of age, and was short, and tattooed all over.
When she came to make her visit she was dressed for the
occasion. Her body was painted, and she carried a box
filled with charms. When Mayolo expected her he was
always ready, seated on a mat, and with a genetta-skin
by him. The female doctor would come in muttering
words which nobody could understand; then she would
rub Mayolo's body with her hand, and mark his forehead
with the chalk of the alumbi; then she made a broad
mark with the chalk on his chest, and drew stripes the
whole length of his arms, muttering unintelligibly all the
time; she then chewed the leaves of some medicinal
plant, and spat the juice over Mayolo's body, especially
on the affected part, near the heart, still muttering magical
words. Afterward she lighted a bunch of a peculiar
kind of grass, and as it burned, made the flames almost
touch the body of poor Mayolo. Two or three times it
seemed as if the fire was burning him. She began the
fire-ceremony at the sole of his foot, gradually ascending
to the head, and, when the flames ceased, she made the
smouldering fire touch his person.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>
<p>When I asked her why she used fire, she said that it
was to prevent disease from coming into Mayolo's body
from the outside.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Basket"><img src="images/i_p171.png" width="450"
height="549" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
OTAITAI, OR PORTER'S BASKET.
</div></div>
<p>All this time the Otando people were busy making
<i>otaitais</i>, or porters' baskets. The otaitai is a very ingenious
contrivance for carrying loads in safety on the backs
of men. I have brought one of these baskets home, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
preserve it as a keepsake. It is long and narrow; the
wicker-work is made of strips of a very tough climbing
plant; the length is about two and a half feet, and the
width nine inches; the sides are made of open cane-work,
capable of being expanded or drawn in, so as to admit of
a larger or smaller load. Cords of bast are attached to
the sides, for the purpose of securing the contents. Straps
made of strong plaited rushes secure the basket to the
head and arms of the carrier, as shown in the preceding
picture.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p172.png" width="175"
height="101" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p173.png" width="400"
height="87" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
<p class="center">DEPARTURE FROM THE OTANDO COUNTRY.—TALK WITH
MAYOLO.—LIVING ON MONKEY-MEAT.—ASTRONOMICAL
STUDIES.—LUNAR OBSERVATIONS.—INTENSE HEAT.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> day of my departure from the Otando country
was approaching. Mayolo was getting better and better
every day. So, two days after the ceremony I have
described in the preceding chapter, I summoned Mayolo
and his people, and received them in state. I was
dressed for the occasion, as if ready to start, with my
otaitai on my back. I was surrounded by my body-guard,
and they also were ready for the start, each man
carrying his otaitai. I spoke to the people in similitudes,
in the African fashion:</p>
<p>"Mayolo, I have called you and your people, that you
may have my mouth. You black people have a saying
among yourselves that a man does not stand alone—that
he has friends. You Otando people have friends among
the Apono and Ishogo people." "We will take you
there!" shouted the Otandos. "I come to ask you the
road through the Apono country. Come and show me
the road. It is the one I like best; it is the shortest. I
will make your heart glad if you make my heart glad.
I have nice things to give you all, and I want the news
to spread that Mayolo and I are two great friends, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
that after I am gone people may say, 'Mayolo was the
friend of the Oguizi.'" The last part of the speech was
received with tremendous shouts of applause, and cries
of "Rovano! Rovano!"</p>
<p>Mayolo deferred his answer till the next day. I suppose
he wanted to prepare himself for a great speech.
The following morning he came before my hut, surrounded
by his people. Mayolo began:</p>
<p>"When a hunter goes into the forest in search of
game, he is not glad until he returns home with meat;
so Chally's heart will not be glad until he finishes what
he wishes to do." Then he continued to speak for more
than an hour, and ended by saying, "Chally, we shall
soon be on the <i>long road</i>, and go toward where the sun
rises."</p>
<p>As soon as the recovery of Mayolo seemed certain, the
people prepared to celebrate the event. Jar after jar of
native beer came in, and in the evening the people of
the village had a grand time. Mayolo was the most uproarious
of all, dancing, slapping his chest, and shouting,
"Here I am, alive! The Otando people said I should
die because the Spirit had come, but here I am! Here
I am, Chally, well at last! I tell you I am well, Oguizi!"
and, to show me that he was well, he began to leap about,
and to strike the ground with his feet, saying, "Don't
you see I am well? The Otando people said, the Apono
said, as soon as they heard you had arrived in my village,
'Mayolo is a dead man!' As soon as I fell ill, they said,
'Mayolo will never get up again! Has not the Oguizi
killed Remandji and Olenda?' But here I am, alive and
well! Fire guns, that the people of the villages around
may know that Mayolo is well!" As he went, he shout<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span>ed,
"I knew that the Oguizi did not like to see me ill.
I am Mayolo! I will take him farther on!"</p>
<p>I never knew how good Mayolo was till I saw him in
better health. He had a good, kind heart, though he was
a savage, and we had nice talks together. He asked me
all sorts of questions. When I told him that in my country
we had more cattle than he, but that they remained
on our plantations, just as his goats did, he seemed incredulous.
Then I told him that as I went inland I
would meet tribes of blacks who kept tame cattle. He
said he had never heard of such people; he could not
believe what I said. But when I told him that there
were countries where elephants were tamed, and that
the people rode on their backs, the astonishment of Mayolo
and of his people became great. Then I showed
him an illustrated paper. "Oh! oh! oh!" they shouted.
In the evening Mayolo presented me with a splendid fat
monkey.</p>
<p>I should tell you that all this time I had really splendid
food. The monkeys were delicious, and so plentiful
in the woods near Mayolo's village that we could have
them wherever we pleased. It was in the season when
they were fat. The nchègai, the nkago, the miengai,
and the ndova were also abundant, and we enjoyed eating
them, for those creatures seemed, in the months of
April and May, to be nothing but balls of fat. It was
the time of the year, too, when the forest trees bore most
fruit, berries, and nuts. The miengai and the ndova
were the species of animals which I preferred for food.
I defy any one to find nicer venison in any part of the
world. A haunch grilled on a bright charcoal fire was
simply delicious. "Horrible!" you will say; "the idea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
of eating monkeys! It is perfectly dreadful!" and at
the same time I am sure you will make a face so ugly
that it would frighten you if you were to look at yourself
in the glass. You may say, "Oh, a roast monkey
must look so much like a roasted little baby! Fy!"
Never mind. I can only say that if you ever go into
the forests of Equatorial Africa, and taste of a monkey
in the season when those animals are fat, you will exclaim
with me, "What delicious and delicate food! how
exquisite!" As I am writing these lines, the recollection
of those meals makes me hungry. I wish I had a monkey
here, ready for cooking. I would invite you to partake
of it; and I think you could eat the monkey without
being accused of cannibalism.</p>
<p>The first time after my arrival at Mayolo's village that
I took my photographic tent out of its japanned tin box,
I called him to look at it after I had fixed it ready for
use, but it was not easy to get him to come. He had a
suspicion that there was witchcraft in it. Finally I succeeded
in getting him to look at the apparatus. I made
him look at the prairie through the yellow window-glass
by which the light came into the little tent while I was
working with the chemicals or the plates. As he looked,
the trees, the grass, the sunlight, the ant-hills, the people,
the fowls, the goats, all appeared yellow to him. The
good old fellow was frightened out of his wits. He
thought I was practicing witchcraft. I believe if he had
gone into the tent he would have died of fright. He
stepped back, looked at me with fear and amazement,
and went away, raising his hands, and with his mouth
wide open. After a while he said that I had turned the
world to another color. The next day all the people
came to see the wonderful thing.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
<p>I had so little to do that I gave my whole heart to the
contemplation of the heavens. Many hours of the night
were spent by me looking at the stars. When every one
had gone to sleep, I stood all alone on the prairie, with a
gun by my side, watching. There was no place upon
our earth where one could get a grander view of the
heavens than that I now occupied, for I stood almost under
the equator, and the months of April and May in
Mayolo were the months when the atmosphere is the
purest; for after the storms the azure of the sky was so
intensely deep that it made the stars doubly bright in
the blue vault of heaven.</p>
<p>At that period the finest constellations of the southern
hemisphere were within view at the same time—the constellations
of the Ship, the Cross, the Centaur, the Scorpion,
and the Belt of Orion, and also the three brightest
stars in the heavens, Sirius, Canopus, and α Centauri.</p>
<p>How fond I was of looking at the stars! I loved many
of them; they were my great friends, for they were my
guides in their apparently ascending and descending
course. How glad I was when one of these lovely friends
again made its appearance after a few months' absence!
how anxiously I watched toward the east for its return!
and at last, as it rose from the dim horizon, and became
brighter and brighter in ascending the heavens, how it
delighted my heart! Do not wonder at it when I say I
love the stars, for without them I would not have known
where to direct my steps. I watched them as a tottering
child watches his mother.</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">
<div class="line">"Oft the traveler in the dark</div>
<div class="line">Thanks you for your tiny spark;</div>
<div class="line">Would not know which way to go</div>
<div class="line">If you did not twinkle so."</div>
</div></div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
Venus shone splendidly, and threw her radiance all
around; red Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn were in sight;
the Southern Cross (so named on account of the four
bright stars which form a cross); not far from the cross
were the "Coal-sac," like two dark patches. No telescope
powerful enough has ever been made to see any
star there. There is no other spot of the kind in the
starry heavens.</p>
<p>The Magellanic clouds were also seen; they were like
two white-looking patches—especially the larger one—brightly
illuminated as they revolve round the starless
South Pole. Then, as if the scene was not beautiful
enough, there stood that part of the Milky Way between
the 50th and the 80th parallel, so beautiful and rich in
crowded nebulæ and stars that it seemed to be in a perfect
blaze; between Sirius and the Centaur the heavens
appeared most brilliantly illuminated, and as if they were
a blaze of light.</p>
<p>At the same time, looking northward, I could see the
beautiful constellation of the Great Bear, which was
about the same altitude above the horizon as the constellation
of the Cross and of the Centaur, some of the stars
in the two constellations passing the meridian within a
short time of each other: γ Ursæ Majoris half an hour
before α Crucis, and Benetnasch eleven minutes before
β Centauri.</p>
<p>Where could any one have a grander view of the heavens
at one glance? From α Ursæ Majoris to α Crucis
there was an arc of 125°; and, as if to give a still grander
view of the almost enchanting scene, the zodiacal light
rose after the sun had set, increasing in brilliancy, of a
bright yellow color, and rising in a pyramidal shape high<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179"></a><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180"></a><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
into the sky, often so bright that the contrast between
the blue sky and this yellow glow was most beautiful.
It often became visible half an hour after the sun had
disappeared, and was very brilliant, like a second sunset;
it still increased in brilliancy, and often attained a
bright orange-color at the base, gradually becoming fainter
and fainter at the top. It could be seen almost every
night during the months of April and May. So if, under
the equator, I had not the splendid Aurora Borealis to
behold, I had the soft zodiacal light to contemplate.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Taking"><img src="images/i_p180.png" width="438"
height="700" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
TAKING AN OBSERVATION.
</div></div>
<p>I would take astronomical observations whenever I
could, so that I might know my latitude and longitude,
and I took a great many at Mayolo. In the evening I
would bring out my sextant, my policeman's lantern, my
artificial horizon, my thermometer, and would work for
hours.</p>
<p>I will explain to you the use of the artificial horizon.
It is so called on account of being an imitation of the
natural horizon. Quicksilver is the best material. The
heavenly bodies are reflected upon it, and you must lay
your artificial horizon in such a way that the object you
are watching is reflected on it, and then, with your sextant,
you bring the direct object to its reflected image on
the quicksilver, and the reading of the sextant gives you
the number of degrees, minutes, and seconds of altitude.</p>
<p>It is always good to take two stars, one north and the
other south of the zenith of the place. While at Mayolo
I would often take one of the stars of the constellation
of the Great Bear and one of the constellation of the
Cross the same evening. You have to watch carefully
when the star has reached its highest altitude, that is to
say, when it appears neither to ascend or descend.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p>
<p>But the most difficult observations were those of the
lunar distances for longitude. In those observations I
generally used three sextants, one for the altitude of the
moon, another for the altitude of a star, and another for
the distance between the moon and the star. My watch,
my slate, my pencil, and my policeman's lantern were
also placed near me. The two artificial horizons were in
front of me, and when every thing was ready I would
take an altitude of the moon, then that of the star, then
look at my watch, and note down the exact time of each
observation; then take four distances, and note the exact
time each distance was taken, and then again the altitude
of the star and moon in the reverse order of the first portion
of the observation.</p>
<p>The following example will show you how a lunar distance
is taken with a sextant:</p>
<table class="small" border="1" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="observations">
<tr>
<td class="tdc" colspan="15">OBSERVATIONS FOR LUNAR DISTANCES.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">Date.</td>
<td class="tdc">Place.</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">Time.</td>
<td class="tdc">Object.</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">Alt. and Distance.</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">Index Error</td>
<td class="tdc">Temp.</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">Resulting Longitude, E.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlt" rowspan="9">1865, May 6</td>
<td class="tdlt" rowspan="9">Máyolo (cont<sup>d</sup>.)</td>
<td class="tdc">H.</td><td class="tdc">M.</td><td class="tdc">S.</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc">°</td><td class="tdc">'</td><td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdc">'</td><td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdc">Fahr.</td>
<td class="tdc">°</td><td class="tdc">'</td><td class="tdc">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">1</td><td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdl">☾ Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">121</td><td class="tdr">12</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdr">on 6</td><td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td class="tdr">15</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">4</td><td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdl">Jupiter Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">62</td><td class="tdr">44</td><td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdr">on 5</td><td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">7</td><td class="tdr">25</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">43</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdr">on 0</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">9</td><td class="tdr">42</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">42</td><td class="tdr">50</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">53</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">42</td><td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">13</td><td class="tdr">27</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">42</td><td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">15</td><td class="tdr">10</td>
<td class="tdl">Jupiter Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">67</td><td class="tdr">31</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">18</td><td class="tdr">2</td>
<td class="tdl">☾ Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">113</td><td class="tdr">5</td><td class="tdr">10</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> </td>
<td class="tdl">77.0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">Planet E. of moon</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdlt" rowspan="8"> "</td>
<td class="tdlt" rowspan="8"> "</td>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">19</td><td class="tdr">44</td>
<td class="tdl">☾ Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">112</td><td class="tdr">16</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdr">on 6</td><td class="tdr">50</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">15</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">22</td><td class="tdr">7</td>
<td class="tdl">Jupiter Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">70</td><td class="tdr">37</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdr">on 5</td><td class="tdr">20</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">24</td><td class="tdr">24</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">38</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdr">on 0</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">26</td><td class="tdr">18</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">37</td><td class="tdr">50</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">31</td><td class="tdr">43</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">37</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">33</td><td class="tdr">10</td>
<td class="tdl">Distance</td>
<td class="tdr">85</td><td class="tdr">36</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">35</td><td class="tdr">8</td>
<td class="tdl">Jupiter Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">76</td><td class="tdr">22</td><td class="tdr">0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2">"</td>
<td class="tdl"> </td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">"</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdr">11</td><td class="tdr">36</td><td class="tdr">40</td>
<td class="tdl">☾ Alt.</td>
<td class="tdr">103</td><td class="tdr">59</td><td class="tdr">30</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="2"> </td>
<td class="tdl">77.0</td>
<td class="tdc" colspan="3">Planet E. of moon</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>Take as many lunar observations as you can east and
west of the moon—the more the better—and you will
be able to know your exact longitude with more certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>ty.
It would be here too complicated to tell you how to
make the calculations, but I am sure that after a while
many of you would be able to make them.</p>
<p>By lunar observations, if sickness or some other cause
has made you forget the day of the month, or even the
year, you can find it again. Several times I lost my days
while traveling.</p>
<p>The heat was intense at Mayolo. The rays of the sun
were very powerful, and raised the mercury nearly to
150°. Just think of it! In order to know the heat of
the sun, the thermometer was only a glass tube supported
by two little sticks. I had to take care that the rays
of the sun fell always perpendicularly on the mercury.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p183.png" width="175"
height="40" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p184.png" width="400"
height="67" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
<p class="center">SAYING GOOD-BY.—A PANIC-STRICKEN VILLAGE.—PACIFYING
THE PEOPLE'S FEARS.—A TIPSY SCENE.—MAJESTY
ON A SPREE.—LUNCH BY A RIVER SIDE.</p>
<p class="p2">O<span class="smcap">n</span> the 30th of May, early in the morning, there was
great excitement in Mayolo's village. That morning we
were to leave for the Apono country. Mayolo himself
was to take me there, and we were all getting ready, the
men carefully arranging their otaitais. The horns were
blown as the signal for our departure, and we took the
path in single file, Igala leading, and Mayolo and I bringing
up the rear.</p>
<p>"Good-by, Oguizi!" shouted the people. "Don't forget
us, Oguizi! Come back, Oguizi!"</p>
<p>Following a path in the prairie, we traveled directly
east. Our road lay among the ant-hills, which could be
counted by tens of thousands, of which I gave you a
description in my "Apingi Kingdom." After a march
of seven miles we came to Mount Nomba-Obana. Mayolo
once lived on the top of this mountain, but moved his
village to its base, and afterward went to the place where
I found him. At the foot of Nomba-Obana, on the somewhat
precipitous side, were great quantities of blocks of
red sandstone, and in this neighborhood we saw the ruins
of Mayolo's former village. Mayolo is always chang<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>ing
his home, for he fancies that the places he occupies
are bewitched.</p>
<p>At a distance of about three miles from Nomba-Obana
we came to a stream called Ndooya, which we forded,
but in the rainy season it must be a considerable body of
water. We were approaching the Apono villages, and I
felt somewhat anxious, for I did not know what kind of
reception the people would give me. Groves of palm-trees
were very abundant, and I could see numerous calabashes
hanging at the tree-tops, ready to receive the sap,
which is called palm wine.</p>
<p>At last we came in sight of the village of Mouendi,
where we intended to stay. The chief was a great friend
of Mayolo. As soon as the inhabitants saw me a shout
rent the air. All the people fled, the women carrying
their children, and weeping. The cry was, "Here is the
Oguizi! Oguizi! Now that we have seen him, we are
going to die." I saw and heard all this with dismay.</p>
<p>We entered the village. Not a soul was left in it; it
was as still as death. I could see the traces of hurried
preparations for flight as we continued our march through
the street of this silent village till we came near the ouandja.
There I saw Nchiengain, the chief, and two other
men, who had not deserted him. These were the only
inhabitants we could see. The body of the chief was
marked, striped, and painted with the chalk of the alumbi.
He seemed filled with fear; but the sight of Mayolo,
his <i>nkaga</i>, "born the same day," seemed somewhat to reassure
him.</p>
<p>Mayolo said, "Nchiengain, do not be afraid; come
nearer. Do not be afraid. Come!" Then we went
under the ouandja, and seated ourselves. In the mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
time, I had taken a look at Nchiengain. He was a tall,
slender old negro, with a mild and almost timid expression
of countenance.</p>
<p>Then Mayolo said, "I told you, Nchiengain, that I was
coming with the Oguizi. Here we are. The Spirit has
come here to do you good—to give you beads, and many
nice things. Then he will leave you after a while, and
go still farther on."</p>
<p>Then I spoke to Nchiengain in his own language, for
the Aponos speak the same language as the Ashira and
Otando people. I said, "Nchiengain, do not be afraid of
me. I come to be a friend; I come to do you good. I
come to see you, and then will pass on, leaving beads and
fine things for your women and yourselves. Look here"—pointing
to all the loads which my Otando porters had
laid on the ground—"part of these things will be for
your people," and immediately I put around his neck a
necklace of very large beads, and placed a red cap on his
head. I then gave necklaces of smaller beads to the two
other men, and said, "Nchiengain, you will have more
things, but your people must come back; I do not like to
live in a village from which all the people have run
away. Mayolo's people did not run away, and you do
not know what great friends we are. Call your people
back."</p>
<p>I then went around the village, and hung a few strings
of beads to the trees, and Nchiengain shouted, "Come
back, Aponos; come back! Do not be afraid of the
Spirit. As you come back, look at the trees, and you
will see the beads the Spirit has brought for us, and
which he will give to us." The two men then went out
upon the prairie and into the woods, and before sunset<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
a few men and women, braver than the rest, returned to
the village, taking with them the beads which they had
seen hanging from the branches of the trees.</p>
<p>In the evening the bright fires blazing in all directions
showed that the fears of the people had been allayed, and
that many of them had returned to their homes.</p>
<p>How tired I felt that evening! for not only had I been
excited all day, but I had left Mayolo's village in the
morning with a heavy load on my back. Besides my
revolvers, I carried a double-barreled gun, and in my bag
I had fifty cartridges for revolvers, ten bullets for a long-range
Enfield rifle, ten bullets for smooth-bore guns, ten
steel-pointed bullets, and more than twenty pounds of
small shot, buck-shot, powder, etc. In all, I carried a
weight of over sixty pounds, besides my food, and my
aneroids, barometers, policeman's lantern, and prismatic
compass. I was so weary that I could not sleep. I resolved
not to carry such big loads any more.</p>
<p>But my work was not yet done: in the evening I had
to make astronomical observations. As I was afraid of
frightening the people, I had to do this slyly. I was
glad when I had finished it, but I found by my observations
that we had gone directly east from Mayolo's village.</p>
<p>The next morning I walked from one end of the village
of Mouendi to the other. The street was four hundred
and forty-seven yards long, and eighteen yards
broad. The soil was clay and not a blade of grass could
be seen. The houses were from five to seven yards long,
and from seven to ten feet broad; the height of the
walls was about four feet, and the distance from the
ground to the top of the roof was seven or eight feet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>
Back of the houses were immense numbers of plantain-trees.
In the morning many of the people returned.
Mayolo and Nchiengain had a long talk together. Nchiengain
was fully persuaded that I could do any thing I
wished; consequently, that I could make any amount of
goods and beads for him. A grand palaver took place,
and Mayolo began the day by making a speech. He
said,</p>
<p>"The last moon I sent some of my people to buy salt
from you Apono. You refused to sell salt, and sent word
that you did not want the Oguizi to come into your country,
because he brought the plague, sickness, and death.
So I said to the Oguizi, 'Never mind; there is a chief in
the Apono country who is my <i>nkaga</i> (born the same
day); I will send messengers to him; he has big canoes,
and I am sure he will let us cross the river with
them.' Then I sent three of my nephews to you, Nchiengain,
my nkaga, with beads and nice things, and I said
to them, 'Go and tell Nchiengain that I am coming with
the Oguizi, who is on his way to the country of the Ishogos.'
You sent back your kendo, Nchiengain, with the
words, 'Tell Mayolo to come with his Oguizi.' Here we
are, Nchiengain, in your village, and I am sure you and
your people will not slight us" (<i>mpouguiza</i>).</p>
<p>I gave to Nchiengain one shirt, six yards of prints, one
coat, a red cap, one big bunch of white beads and one
of red, a necklace of very large beads, files, fire-steels,
spoons, knives and forks, a large looking-glass, and some
other trinkets, and then called the leading men and women,
and gave them presents also. This settled our friendship,
for the people were pleased with the wonderful
things I gave them.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p>
<p>The news of my untold wealth spread far and wide.
People from a neighboring village, who had been very
much opposed to my journey through their country,
made their appearance. When Nchiengain saw them,
he said, "Go away! go away! now you come because
you have smelt the <i>niva</i> (goods and nice things). You
are not afraid now."</p>
<p>After two or three days the people of Mouendi began
to say, "How is it that two or three days ago we were so
afraid of the Spirit? Now our fears are gone, and we
love him. He plays with our children, and gives beads
to our women." When I heard them utter these words,
I said, "Apono, that is the way I travel. Those fine
things that I give you are the plague I leave behind me!
I bring not death, but beads; so do not be afraid of
me." They replied, "Rovano! Rovano!" ("That is so!")</p>
<p>A few days passed away, and then the Apono and I
became great friends. They began to wonder why they
had been so frightened by the <i>Ibamba</i> (a new name given
me by the Apono), and soon all the people had returned
to the village. Good old Nchiengain and Mayolo
had at last a jolly frolic together, and got quite tipsy
with palm wine. I wish you had heard them talk. The
way they were going to travel with me was something
wonderful. Such fast traveling on foot you never heard
of before. Tribe after tribe were to be passed by them.
They were not afraid; they did not care. We were even
to travel by night over the prairie, for the full moon was
coming.</p>
<p>After a few days at Mouendi, Nchiengain with his
Aponos, and Mayolo with his own people, took me farther
on; but before our departure Nchiengain and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
Apono went out before daylight to obtain the palm wine
which had fallen into their calabashes during the night.
By sunrise they were all tipsy, and Nchiengain was reeling,
but he was full of enthusiasm for the journey; Mayolo
also was tipsy, but not quite so far gone as his friend
Nchiengain. When I saw this state of things I demolished
all the <i>mbomi</i> (calabashes), spilling on the ground
the palm wine they contained, to the great sorrow of the
Aponos.</p>
<p>"Where is Nchiengain?" I inquired, when we were
ready to start. He could not be found; and, suspecting
that he was somewhere behind his hut, drinking more
palm wine before starting, I went to hunt for him. The
old rascal, thinking I was busy engaged in looking after
my men, was quietly drinking from the mbomi itself,
with his head up and his mouth wide open. Before he
had time to think, I seized his calabash, and poured the
contents on the ground. Poor Nchiengain! he supplicated
me not to pour it all away, but to leave a little bit
for him. "I will go with you at once," he said; "give
me back my mug" (a mug I had given him); "oh, Spirit,
give it back to me!" By this time all the villagers
had gathered about us. I put the mug on the ground,
and told Nchiengain's wife to come and take it; and
this gave great joy to the people, who exclaimed, "Nchiengain,
go quick! go quick!"</p>
<p>When we left I went to the rear, to see that all the
porters were ahead; but old Nchiengain lagged behind,
for he could not walk fast enough.</p>
<p>Three quarters of an hour afterward we found ourselves
on the banks of a large river, the same which is
described in my "Apingi Kingdom"—that kingdom be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>ing
situated farther down the stream than the point at
which we were now to cross. The river could not be
seen from the prairie, for its banks were lined with a
belt of forest trees. We found on the banks of the
stream Nchiengain's big canoe waiting for us, together
with some smaller ones. The large canoe was very capacious,
but before all my luggage could be ferried over
it was necessary to make seven trips. I sent Igala, Rebouka,
and Mouitchi to the other side with the first load
to keep watch. The canoe had just returned from its
seventh trip, and the men were landing, when suddenly
I heard the voice of Nchiengain in the woods shouting,
"I am coming, Spirit! Nchiengain is coming!" It was
half past four P.M. A whole day had been lost.</p>
<p>Not caring to take his majesty Nchiengain reeling
drunk into my canoe, I jumped into it and ordered the
men to push from the shore with the utmost speed. We
started in good time, for we were hardly off when I began
to distinguish the king's form through the woods, and
when he reached the shore we were about fifty yards
distant. We heard him shout "Come back! come back
to fetch me;" but the louder he called the more deaf we
were. "Go on, boys!" I ordered. As our backs were
turned to the king, of course we could not see him. Finally
we landed, and, taking my glass, I saw poor Nchiengain
gesticulating on the other side, apparently in a dreadful
state, thinking that I had left him. The canoe was
sent back for him, and a short time afterward he was
landed on our side of the river, to his great delight.
Two or three times during the passage he lost his equilibrium,
but he did not fall. When he joined us he was
about as tipsy as when I left him in the morning.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p>
<p>Poor Mayolo, who had been continually tipsy since we
had left his village, fell ill during the night, and a very
high fever punished him for his sins.</p>
<p>We built our camp where we had landed. A thick
wood grew on the bank of the river, and firewood was
plentiful. In the evening Nchiengain was sober again,
and before ten o'clock every body was fast asleep except
three of my Commi men, who were on the watch. The
dogs were lying asleep, and almost in the fire. Every
thing now promised well, and I was anxious to hurry forward
as rapidly as possible on the following day.</p>
<p>At a quarter past six o'clock A.M. we left our encampment,
every body being perfectly sober. Soon afterward
we emerged from the woods into a prairie, and passed
several villages, the people of which seemed to have heard
wonderful stories of my wealth. They came out, and
followed me with supplies of goats and plantain, and
begged Nchiengain and his people to remain with the
Oguizi. In the villages they went so far as to promise
several slaves to Nchiengain if he would do this. Hundreds
of these villagers, while following us, gazed at me,
but if I looked at them they fled in alarm. Finally, seeing
that it was useless to follow, they went back, shouting
to Nchiengain and to Mayolo that it was their fault
if I did not stop. My porters joined them in their grumbling,
for the fat goats tempted them.</p>
<p>About midday we halted in a beautiful wooded hollow,
through which ran a little rivulet of clear water,
and by its side we seated ourselves for breakfast. I was
really famished. After spending an hour in eating and
resting, we started again. When we came out of the
wood we saw paths leading in different directions, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
going directly east to several Apono villages. Nchiengain
was opposed to our passage through them, and therefore
we struck a path leading in a more southerly direction,
or S.S.E. by compass. For three hours we journeyed
over an undulating prairie dotted with clumps of woods,
and then crossed a prairie called Matimbié irimba (the
prairie of stones), the soil of which was covered with little
stones containing a good deal of iron. The men suffered
greatly as they stepped upon them.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p193.png" width="150"
height="147" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p194.png" width="400"
height="66" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
<p class="center">RUMORS OF WAR.—THROUGH A BURNING PRAIRIE.—IMMINENT
PERIL.—NARROW ESCAPE FROM A HORRIBLE
DEATH.—A LONELY NIGHT-WATCH.</p>
<p class="p2">W<span class="smcap">ar</span> began to loom up as we reached the southeast
end of the Matimbié irimba. We came to a village
called Dilolo, the path we were following leading directly
to it, and as we approached we found that the place
had been barricaded, and that it was guarded outside by
all its fighting men. On the path charms had been
placed, to frighten away the Aponos. The men were
armed with spears, bows and arrows, and sabres. When
we came near earshot, having left the path with the intention
of passing by the side of the village, they vented
bitter curses against Nchiengain for bringing the Oguizi
into their country—"the Oguizi who comes with the <i>eviva</i>
(plague) into villages," they shouted. "Do not come
near us; do not try to enter our village, for there will
be war!" The war-drums were beaten, and the men advanced
and retired before us, spear in hand, as if to
drive us away, for they thought we had come too near.
We marched forward, nevertheless. So long as the Apono
porters did not show the white feather, I felt safe;
they also had their spears and their bows, and my men
held their guns in readiness. Suddenly fires appeared
in different parts of the prairie. The people of Dilolo
had set fire to the grass, hoping that we might perish in
the flames. The fire spread with fearful rapidity, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
we soon came to a place where our path made a turn by
the village, and we reached the rear of the place. At
that moment we observed a body of villagers moving in
our direction, evidently intending to stop our progress.
Presently two poisoned arrows were shot at us. I thought
we were going to have a fight, but ordered my men to
keep cool, and not to fire. Nchiengain walked all along
the line to cheer up his men, and shouted that "Nchiengain's
people were not afraid of war," but at the same
time he begged me not to fire a gun unless some of our
people were hit with the arrows.</p>
<p>We continued our march, keeping close together, so
that we might help each other in case of need. My men
were outside the path, between Nchiengain and the Dilolo
people, with their guns ready to fire when I gave
the word. The villagers, mistaking our forbearance for
fear, became bolder, and the affair was coming to a crisis.
A warrior, uttering a fierce cry of battle, came toward
us, and, with his bow bent, stood a few yards in
front of Rapelina, threatening to take his life. I could
see the poison on the barbed arrow. My eyes were fixed
upon the fellow, and I felt very much like sending a
bullet through his head. Plucky Rapelina faced his enemy
boldly, and, looking him fiercely in the face, uttered
the war cry of the Commi, and, lowering the muzzle of
his gun, advanced two steps, and shouted in the Apono
language that if the Dilolo did not put down his bow he
would be a dead man before he could utter another word.
By this time all my Commi men had come up, with the
muzzle of their guns pointing toward the Dilolo, awaiting
my order to fire. The bow fell from the warrior's
hand, and he retreated.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
<p>Nchiengain behaved splendidly. He began to curse
the Dilolo people, and said to them, "You will hear of
me one of these days;" and my Aponos threw down their
loads and got ready to fight.</p>
<p>"Let us hurry," I said to the men; "don't you see the
country is getting into a blaze of fire? We must get out
of it."</p>
<p>I fired a gun after we had passed the village, and the
inhabitants were terrified at the noise. Nchiengain was
furious, and again shouted to the enemy, "You will see
that I am not a boy, and that my name is Nchiengain!"</p>
<p>The discomfited warriors of Dilolo gradually left us,
probably thinking that the fire, so rapidly spreading,
would do the work they could not perform; and, indeed,
while we had escaped a conflict through our good common
sense, we were now exposed to a far greater danger.
The fire was gaining fearfully. The whole country
seemed to be in a blaze. Happily, the wind blew from
the direction in which we were going; still the flames
were fast encircling us, and there was but one break in
the circuit it was making. I shouted, "Hurry, boys!
hurry! for if we do not get there in time, we shall have
to go back, and then we must fight, for we will have to
get into the village of Dilolo." So we pressed forward
with the utmost speed, and finally our road lay between
two walls of fire, but the prairie was clear of flames
ahead. Although the walls of fire were far apart, they
were gaining upon us. "Hurry on, boys!" I exclaimed;
"hurry on!" We walked faster and faster, for the smoke
was beginning to reach us. The fire roared as it went
through the grass, and left nothing but the blackened
ground behind it. We began to feel the heat. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
clear space was getting narrower and narrower. I
turned to look behind, and saw the people of Dilolo
watching us. Things were looking badly. Were we
going to be burned to death? Again looking back toward
Dilolo, I saw that the fires had united, and that the
whole country lying between ourselves and Dilolo was a
sheet of flame.</p>
<p>Onward we sped, Nchiengain exhorting his men to
hurry. We breathed the hot air, but happily there was
still an open space ahead. We came near it, and felt
relieved. At last we reached it, and a wild shout from
Nchiengain, the Aponos, and my Commi rent the air.
We were saved, but nearly exhausted.</p>
<p>I said to my Commi men, "Are we not men? There
is no coming back after this! Boys, onward to the River
Nile!" They all shouted in reply, "We must go forward;
we are going to the white man's country."</p>
<p>Between four and five o'clock we came to another
wood, in the midst of which was a cool spring of water.
We encamped there for the night, and not far in the distance
on the prairie we could see the smoke coming out
of a cluster of Apono villages. They dreaded our approach.
In the silence of the twilight, the wind from
the mountains brought to us the cries of the people.
We could hear the shrieks and the weeping of the women,
and the beating of the war-drums. Afterward the
people came within speaking distance, and shouted to us,
"Oh, Nchiengain, why have you brought this curse upon
us? We do not want the Oguizi in our country, who
brings the plague with him. We do not want to see the
Ibamba. The Ishogo are all dead; the Ashango have
all left; there is nothing but trees in the forest. Go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
back! go back!" They yelled and shouted till about
ten o'clock, and then all became silent, and soon afterward
my people were asleep by the fires which they had
lighted. They all suffered from sore feet. Igala, Mouitchi,
and Rapelina were to keep watch with me, while
my other Commi men were resting; but they, too, after
a while, went to sleep. Even our poor dogs were tired,
and were also sound asleep.</p>
<p>I stood all alone, watching over the whole camp, so
anxious that I could not sleep. Things did look dark
indeed. A most terrible dread of me had taken possession
of the people. Something had to be done to allay
their fears, or my journey would come to an end.</p>
<p>How quiet every thing was! The rippling of the water
coming from the little brook sounded strangely in the
midst of the silent night. I looked at the strange scene
around me. Each of my men had his gun upon his arm,
but I thought of how useless the weapons would be in the
hands of men so weary, and sunk in deep sleep. If, that
night, any one of you could have been there, you would
have seen Paul Du Chaillu leave the camp and the woods,
and then have seen him all alone upon the prairie, standing
like a statue, no one by him, his gun in one hand, his
revolvers hung by his side. The stars shone beautifully
above his head, as if to cheer him in his loneliness, for
lonely and sad enough he felt. Then, with an anxious
feeling, he looked through his spy-glass in the direction
of the Apono villages to see if any thing was going on
there. No. All there, too, was silent as death.</p>
<p>At three o'clock in the morning I awakened Igala and
some of my Commi boys, and told them to keep watch
while I tried to get a little sleep.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p199.png" width="400"
height="66" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</h2>
<p class="center">A DEPUTATION FROM THE VILLAGE.—A PLAIN TALK WITH
THEM.—A BEAUTIFUL AND PROSPEROUS TOWN.—CHEERFUL
CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE.—MORE OBSERVATIONS.</p>
<p class="p2">B<span class="smcap">efore</span> daylight I arose, and again went out upon the
prairie, but saw no one there from the Apono villages,
and heard no war-drumming. After a while a deputation
of three men came from the village to Nchiengain,
and said, "Why have you brought this Oguizi to us? He
will give us the eviva."</p>
<p>"No," said Nchiengain; "months ago the eviva was in
the country. I myself got it; people died of it, and others
got over it. The eviva has worked where it pleased,
and gone where it pleased, and that when the Spirit had
never made his appearance. He has nothing to do with
the eviva. Go and tell your people that Nchiengain said
so, and that the Spirit has only been a few days in our
country." The men went off without seeing me, for
Nchiengain was afraid they might be frightened.</p>
<p>Toward ten o'clock Nchiengain and Mayolo were sent
for, and, a short time after they had gone, some of Nchiengain's
people came for me, saying that the Aponos
wanted to see me, and that Nchiengain was talking to
them; so, followed by all my Commi men, armed to the
teeth, I started. We left the wood and entered the
beautiful prairie, and soon I saw Nchiengain standing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>
up, and by him, seated in rows upon the ground in a
semicircle, were several hundreds of Aponos. As I approached
they began to move backward, each row trying
to hide behind the other. Then Nchiengain said, "Do
not be afraid," and they stopped.</p>
<p>Nchiengain said to me, in a loud voice, so that every
one could hear, "The Aponos sent for me this morning
to ask me to tell you to come out of that wood. They
want to see you, the great Spirit. Then they want you
to go on the top of that hill" (pointing to it), "and stay
there three days, so that the people may come and look
at you, and bring you food."</p>
<p>"No," said I, in a loud voice, "no, I shall not go on
the top of that hill. I am angry with the Apono people,
for they curse me by saying that I bring the eviva with
me. Has not the eviva been here long? Did not the
people die of it long before they ever heard of me?"</p>
<p>"Rovano! Rovano!" ("That is so!") shouted the Aponos.</p>
<p>"Aponos," I resumed, "do not be frightened; I will
make you hear a noise you never heard before," and I
ordered my men to discharge their guns. The Apono
chiefs stood by me, and I said to them, "Do not be
afraid." Nevertheless, a good many of the people fled.
The chiefs did not move. Then, putting beads around
their necks, I said to them, "Go away in peace; the Spirit
loves the Aponos." The people departed, and I went
back into the wood, for the heat was intense on the
prairie.</p>
<p>In the afternoon the Aponos became emboldened, and
hundreds of them came to get a look at me, taking care
not to come too near. Presents of goats, fowls, ground-nuts,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
sugar-cane, and plantains were sent to me. Afterward
a deputation came to ask me to leave the wood,
and to come to a wood nearer their villages, which I did.
Then the different chiefs of the adjacent Apono villages
begged me to become their guest, and to remain in their
villages.</p>
<p>After consultation with Nchiengain, it was arranged
that we were to go to a village called Mokaba, and accordingly
we left our encampment, and were received in
the midst of the most intense excitement by the villagers,
who exclaimed, "The Spirit is coming!" How frightened
they seemed to be!</p>
<p>The chief came and walked around me, fanning me
with a fan made of the ear of an elephant, and saying,
"Oguizi, do not be angry with me; Oguizi, do not be
angry with me. Oguizi, I never saw thee before; I am
afraid of thee. I will give thee food; I will give thee
all I have!"</p>
<p>That night the village of Mokaba was as silent as the
grave. The next morning immense crowds of Aponos
came to see me. The noise was perfectly deafening.
The people hid themselves behind the trees, in the tall
grass around the villages, and behind the huts, or wherever
they could see me without being seen by me. If
perchance I cast my eyes upon one of them, he ran away
as fast as his legs could carry him.</p>
<p>I spent the evening in making a great number of astronomical
observations. The Aponos, when they saw
me do this, were seized with fear, and the next morning
they came to ask me to go back into the wood, promising
that they would bring food to me. I refused, saying,
"I was in the wood, and you told me to come to Mokaba;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
and now that I am here, you ask me to go back into the
wood. I will not go. Do not be afraid; I am not an
evil spirit. I love to look at the stars and at the moon."</p>
<p>The chief of Mokaba, named Kombila, seemed to be a
nice fellow, of medium height, black as jet, with several
huge scars of sabre wounds on his back and arms, showing
that he was a great fighter, I liked him very much.</p>
<p>The village of Mokaba was beautiful. It was situated
on a hill in the prairie, just at the foot of the woody mountains
which form a part of the immense equatorial range.
From the mountains came a stream of clear water, which
ran at the foot of the hill upon which Mokaba was built.
The mountains in the background seemed to be very high,
and the country was picturesque. The village was not
large, but its houses were nice, and each family possessed a
square yard, around which the dwellings were built. The
whole place was adorned with three squares, in the midst
of which grew many gigantic palm-trees. Back of the village
there were also great numbers of palm-trees, which
were planted by the parents of the present inhabitants.
Goats and chickens were abundant. The plantain, however,
is the food of the country, and the hills surrounding
Mokaba were covered with plantain groves. Handsome
lime-trees, covered with little yellow blossoms, were also
to be seen every where.</p>
<p>The grass of the prairie was yellow and tall, and reminded
me of the wheat-fields at home when ready for
the scythe. Each of the palm-trees around the village,
grown from seeds planted by the people, had its owner.
The palm is a precious tree, for each man draws from it
his palm wine, and makes oil from the nuts, which, when
they are ripe, are of a beautiful rich dark yellow color.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p>
<p>There was an atmosphere of comfort about Mokaba,
and the whole country adjacent to it, which did my heart
good. The Mokabans are a jolly people when they do
not fight with their neighbors. They are fond of dancing,
and the ocuya is one of the principal amusements.
This is a queer pastime, and I will try to describe it for
you.</p>
<p>One day, while I was quietly seated with Kombila, I
heard at the end of the village a great noise, caused by
loud singing, and immediately afterward saw a crowd of
people walking backward, beating their hands and singing,
with their bodies bent almost double, and all shouting,
dancing, and singing at the same time. Then I saw
a tall figure suddenly emerge from behind a house and
come into the street, and Kombila exclaimed, "The ocuya!
the ocuya!"</p>
<p>The tall figure seemed to be about twelve feet in height.
It wore a long dress made of grass-cloth, and reaching
nearly to the ground. The creature's face was covered
with a white mask painted with ochre. The lips of the
mask appeared to be open, showing that the two upper
and middle incisor teeth were wanting. The funniest
part of the costume was that the mask had a head-dress,
looking for all the world like a lady's bonnet, made of a
monkey's skin, with the tail hanging on the back, while
the part of the bonnet around the face was surrounded
with feathers. The figure was a man on stilts.</p>
<p>But troubles and cares again came to destroy the enjoyment
I had in their lively village. Mayolo fell ill
once more, and grew worse so rapidly that his people determined
to take him back to his village. A litter was
made on which to carry him. But his own people said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
he had become jealous, and did not want any of them to
get my fine things; he wanted them all for himself.</p>
<p>The party left early in the morning. In the afternoon
news came that the chief of the village of Dilolo had
died that day. Fortunately, the people of Mokaba did
not like him, and they shouted with joy when they heard
the news. He wanted war when he tried to prevent the
Oguizi and his people from passing, and if war had come
at that time he would have been killed. They all shouted,
"He had aniemba, and aniemba has killed him!
He will give us no more trouble; he will prevent no
more people from coming to us! He will not stop the
people who come to sell us salt!"</p>
<p>Two days after the departure of Mayolo, some of the
Otandos, with some of the Mouendi people, came back
to Mokaba. They came for Nchiengain. He was wanted.
I never learned the reason. No doubt his people
were afraid to leave him longer with me. Mayolo's life
was now despaired of, and the Otando people told me
slyly that they had mpoga-oganga, and that the oganga
had said that the Nchiengain people had put things in
the palm wine Mayolo drank in order to kill him.</p>
<p>Nchiengain came to me with a frightened air to tell
me he had to go. He seemed to be afraid of me. I believe
he thought I was going to kill him, as I had killed
Remandji, Olenda, and Mayolo, and that now his turn
had come. I said to him, "We are great friends. Make
a good speech to the Apono for me, and I will give you
such nice presents!" He promised to do it.</p>
<p>So all the Mokaba people were called. Nchiengain
came out, and made a great speech. He said, "Kombila
and Mokaba people, let the people who are to go with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
the Spirit come before me." They came and seated
themselves on the ground, and I then gave to each a present,
or his pay in goods, beads, trinkets. Then Nchiengain
said, "Kombila, the Oguizi was brought to me by
Mayolo, and before he reached Mayolo's village he passed
through many countries of the black man. Now I
leave him in your hands; pass him to the Ishogos.
Then, when you leave him with the Ishogos, tell them
they must take him to the Ashongos. After you leave
him with the Ishogos your hands will be cleared, for you
will have passed him over your tribe and clans. I am
going; I leave him in your hands!" They all shouted,
"We will take the Oguizi to the Ishogos! we will start
the day the Oguizi wishes to start! We are men! the
Mokaba people are men!"</p>
<p>Then Nchiengain added, "Wherever he goes, let the
people give him plenty of goats, fowls, plantains, and
game!" There was a great shout of "Rovana!"—"That
is so! that is so!" "Do not be afraid of him," shouted
Nchiengain; "see how well he has treated us! At first
we were afraid of him; after a while our fears ceased.
He will treat you just the same. He paid us when we
left the village, and when we leave he gives us a parting
present. Take him away to-morrow. Start for the country
of the Ishogos. Hurry, for he does not want to tarry."</p>
<p>Then, in the presence of the people, he returned to me
the brass kettle I had lent him for cooking his food,
and the plate I had given him, and said to me, "Oguizi,
good-by! I have not <i>mpouguiza</i> (slighted) you; I go
because I must go." As he disappeared behind the
palm-trees he shouted again, "Oguizi, I have not <i>mpouguiza</i>
you!" I answered, "No, Nchiengain, I am not
angry with you; I am only sorry we part."</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p206.png" width="400"
height="77" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
<p class="center">GREAT EXCITEMENT IN THE VILLAGE.—A DESERTED TOWN.—THE
INHABITANTS FRIGHTENED AWAY.—AFRAID OF
THE EVIL EYE.—THE AUTHOR TAKEN FOR AN ASTROLOGER.—LOST
AMONG THE PLANTATIONS.</p>
<p class="p2">O<span class="smcap">n</span> the morning of the 10th of June there was great
excitement in the village of Mokaba. The Apono, headed
by Kombila, were ready to take me to the Ishogo
country. All the porters wore the red caps I had given
them, and had put on their necklaces of beads. At a
quarter past ten o'clock, just as we started, I ordered
guns to be fired, to the immense delight of the Mokaba
people. Kombila gave the word for departure, and one
by one we took the path leading to the hills which lay directly
east of the village, and soon afterward we were in
the woods, passing plantation after plantation that had
been abandoned, for they never planted twice in the
same place. We finally arrived at a plantation called
Njavi, where thousands of plantain-trees were in bearing,
and where sugar-cane patches were abundant. Fields of
pea-nuts were also all around us soon afterward. We
rested to take a meal, and, as Njavi was situated on the
plateau, I had a good view of the country.</p>
<p>When we resumed our march eastward the Apono
were in great glee, for they had become accustomed to
me. Kombila was filled with pride at the idea that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207"></a><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208"></a><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
was going to take the Spirit to the Ishogo country. The
men were talking loudly, and I saw that there was no
chance for killing game. The country was splendid.
The hills had been getting higher and higher till we
had reached Njavi, but since leaving that point we had
been going down the slope. We crossed a dry stream
with a slaty bottom, and soon afterward came to a stream
called Dougoundo, the Apono porters walking as fast as
they could. Toward four o'clock we reached the large
Ishogo village of Igoumbié, but found it deserted. The
few men who saw us ran into their houses and shut their
doors—for they had doors in Igoumbié. The people reminded
me of frightened chickens hiding their heads in
dark corners. A few men had been so alarmed that they
had lost the power of walking, and as I passed did not utter
a single word nor move a step. We walked through
the whole length of the street, then got into the woods,
and stopped. Kombila said to me, "Let me, Spirit, go
to the village;" and he went with a few of his men.
Soon afterward an Ishogo man came with Kombila, and
asked me to remain in his village. "The Mokaba people
are our friends," he said; "they marry our daughters;
how can we let them pass without giving them food?"
Rebouka being lame (one of my heavy brass kettles having
fallen on one of his feet), I consented.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Village"><img src="images/i_p208.png" width="414"
height="700" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
APONO AND ISHOGO VILLAGE.
</div></div>
<p>Now I found that I could no more know who was the
chief of a village. Kombila, I began to suspect, was not
the chief of Mokaba. The chiefs had a superstition that
if I knew who they were I would kill them.</p>
<p>In the Ishogo village I was among a new people, and,
indeed, their appearance was strange to me. Little by
little they came back to the village, for the Mokaba peo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>ple
were great friends of theirs, and they told the Ishogos
not to be afraid. Many of the villagers, as they had
to pass by me, would put their hands over their eyes so
as not to see me. They were afraid.</p>
<p>I took a walk through the long street of that strange
Ishogo village, and counted one hundred and ninety-one
houses. The houses were much larger than those
of many other tribes, and were from twenty to twenty-two
feet in length, and from nine to twelve feet in width.
Each had a door in the middle from two to two and a
half feet in width, and about three and a half feet high.
The height of the lower walls was four and a half feet,
and the distance to the top of the roof eight or nine feet.
The doors of the houses were very tasteful. Each owner
seemed to vie with his neighbor in the choice of the
prettiest patterns. Every door was carved and painted
in different colors. On the opposite page is a representation
of some of the patterns, so you may judge for
yourself of the taste of the Ishogos.</p>
<p>As I walked through the village, I thought what a great
Spirit I must have seemed to the savage people of the interior
of Africa. When I passed the houses of Igoumbié,
some of the people, thinking I was not looking at
them nor at their dwellings, partially opened their doors
to get a peep at me; but if I happened to glance at them
they immediately retired, evidently believing that I had
an "evil eye."</p>
<p>I remained a day in the village of Igoumbié to make
friends, so that the news might spread among the Ishogos
that I was not an evil spirit; but most of them were
so shy that when they had to pass the door of my hut
they put their hands up to the side of their face so that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
they might not see me. Yet, in spite of their shyness, I
made friends with many, and gave them beads.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Doors"><img src="images/i_p211.png" width="400"
height="363" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
ISHOGO HOUSES, WITH ORNAMENTAL DOORS.
</div></div>
<p>One night the village was filled with fear. The people
could not understand my doings. They were unable
to discover what I meant by looking at the stars and at
the moon with such queer-looking things as the instruments
I held in my hand, and with dishes of quicksilver
before me in which the moon and the stars were reflected.
The aneroids, barometers, thermometers, boiling barometers,
watches, and policemen's lanterns puzzled them
extremely. They could not see why I should spend the
greater part of the night with all those things around me.</p>
<p>I could not afford to lose much time in this village, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>
I had been so much detained before by the plague and
other impediments, which have already been described,
that it became necessary for me to go. I had still to pass
through the territory of tribe after tribe; the Congo River
was far to the eastward of us; the sources of the Nile
were far away. So I said to Kombila, "Let us hurry.
Take me to the farthest Ishogo village that you can.
There we will remain a little while, and then I shall
know all about the Ishogos."</p>
<p>We left Igoumbié, and once more plunged into the
great forest. As I lost sight of the village, I heard the
inhabitants crying loudly, "The Spirit has gone! the
Spirit has gone!"</p>
<p>Suddenly, toward midday, the Apono porters stopped.
I saw that a palaver was about to take place. I ordered
my Commi men to be in readiness in case of any trouble.
Kombila said, "Spirit, the people of Igoumbié wanted
to have you among them. We said <i>nèshi</i> (no). The
loads you have are heavy, and my people do not want to
go farther unless you give them more beads, for their
backs are sore."</p>
<p>I answered, "I have a heart to feel, and eyes to see.
I intend to give to each of you a present before we part.
Go ahead." The four elders or leaders of the party
shouted, "It is so! it is so!" So we continued our
march, and passed several villages, but the people were
dumb with astonishment and fear.</p>
<p>In the country through which we were traveling, paths
led from village to village, and when we came to a settlement
we had to go through the whole length of it.
Some of the villages in which the people had heard of
my approach were perfectly deserted. In others the in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>habitants
had hidden themselves in their huts, and we
saw none of them.</p>
<p>Once we lost our way, having taken the wrong path,
and, being bewildered among the plantations of the natives,
we had a hard time. Finally we came to a stream
which the men recognized, and ascended it; but the day
was then far advanced, and we concluded to build our
camp. We all felt very tired, the men having sore feet
on account of little ferruginous pebbles which covered
the ground. After our fires had been lighted, and the
men had smoked their pipes, and put the soles of their
feet as near the fire as they could without burning them,
we began to have a nice talk, and I asked the Aponos
many questions.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p213.png" width="200"
height="77" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p214.png" width="400"
height="82" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
<p class="center">FIRST SIGHT OF A VILLAGE OF THE DWARFS.—A STRANGE
AND INTERESTING SPECTACLE.—AN ABANDONED TOWN.—A
REVERIE BESIDE A STREAM.—THE LEAF, THE BUTTERFLY,
AND THE BIRD.—THE BLESSING OF WATER.</p>
<p class="p2">E<span class="smcap">arly</span> the next morning we started again on our journey
through the great forest, passing many hills and several
rivulets with queer names. Suddenly we came upon
twelve strange little houses scattered at random, and I
stopped and asked Kombila for what use those shelters
were built. He answered, "Spirit, those are the houses
of a small people called Obongos."</p>
<p>"What!" said I, thinking that I had not understood
him.</p>
<p>"Yes," repeated Kombila, "the people who live in such
a shelter can talk, and they build fires."</p>
<p>"Kombila," I replied, "why do you tell me a story?
How can people live in such little places? These little
houses have been built for idols. Look," said I, "at
those little doors. Even a child must crawl on the
ground to get into them."</p>
<p>"No," said Kombila, "the Dwarfs have built them."</p>
<p>"How can that be?" I asked; "for where are the
Dwarfs now? There are no plantain-trees around;
there are no fires, no cooking-pots, no water-jugs."</p>
<p>"Oh," said Kombila, "those Obongos are strange peo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215"></a><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216"></a><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>ple.
They never stay long in the same place. They cook
on charcoal. They drink with their hands, or with large
leaves."</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Huts"><img src="images/i_p216.png" width="450"
height="275" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
HUTS OF THE DWARFS.
</div></div>
<p>"Then," I answered, "do you mean to say that we are
in the country of the Dwarfs?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said Kombila, "we are in the country of the
Dwarfs. They are scattered in the forest. Their little
villages, like the one you see before you, are far apart.
They are as wild as the antelope, and roam in the forest
from place to place. They are like the beasts of the
fields. They feed on the serpents, rats and mice, and
on the berries and nuts of the forest."</p>
<p>"That can not be," I said.</p>
<p>"Yes, Oguizi, this is so," replied the porters. "Look
for yourself;" and they pointed to the huts.</p>
<p>"Is it possible," I asked myself, "that there are people
so small that they can live in such small buildings as
those before me?"</p>
<p>How strange the houses of the Dwarfs seemed! The
length of each house was about that of a man, and the
height was just enough to keep the head of a man from
touching the roof when he was seated. The materials
used in building were the branches of trees bent in the
form of a bow, the ends put into the ground, and the
middle branches being the highest. The shape of each
house was very much like that of an orange cut in two.
The frame-work was covered with large leaves, and there
were little doors which did not seem to be more than
eighteen inches high, and about twelve or fifteen inches
broad. Even the Dwarfs must have lain almost flat on the
ground in order to pass through. When I say door I mean
simply an opening, a hole to go through. It was only a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
tiny doorway. But I managed to get inside one of these
strange little houses, and I found there two beds, which
were as curious as every thing else about the premises.
Three or four sticks on each side of the hut were the
beds. Each bed was about eight inches, or, at the most,
ten inches in width. One was for the wife and the other
for the husband. A little piece of wood on each bed
made the pillows. It was almost pitch dark inside, the
only light coming from the opening or door. Between
the two beds were the remains of a fire, judging by the
ashes and the pieces of burnt wood.</p>
<p>These huts did really look like the habitations of men—the
homes of a race of Dwarfs. But had Kombila told
me a falsehood? Were not these huts built for the fetichs
and idols? It was true the great historian Herodotus
had described a nation of Dwarfs as living on the
head waters of the Nile; Homer had spoken of the cranes
and of the land of the Pigmies; and Strabo thought that
certain little men of Ethiopia were the original Dwarfs,
while Pomponius Mela placed them far south, and, like
Homer, spoke of their fighting with cranes; but then
nobody had believed these stories. Could it be possible
that I had discovered these people, spoken of thousands of
years before, just as I had come face to face with the gorilla,
which Hanno had described many centuries before?</p>
<p>How excited I became as I thought this strange matter
over and over! Finally, however, my mind became
settled, and I said to myself, "No, these mean shelters
could never have been built by man, for the nshiego-mbouvé
builds as good a house. Kombila tells me a
story. These houses are built for a certain purpose, and
he does not want to tell me the reason."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p>
<p>So we left the so-called abandoned village of the
Dwarfs, and onward we traveled toward the east, and
soon came to a river called Ogoulou, on the bank of
which was situated an Ishogo village of the name of
Yengué.</p>
<p>We entered, but the villagers received us in profound
silence. Kombila all the time said to them, "Do not be
afraid. We have come here as friends." At last we
reached the ouandja, and there I seated myself. I could
not find out who the chief was, but the people evidently
knew the Mokaba tribe. The old men, after a while,
gave me a house for myself and my Commi, while my
Aponos went to lodge with their friends. I heard that
the chief had fled.</p>
<p>Nothing important took place that day. In the evening,
while in my hut, in the midst of a profound silence,
I heard a voice exclaiming "Beware! We have an oguizi
among us! Beware! There is no <i>monda</i> (fetich) to
prevent us from seeing him during the day, but let no
one try to see him in his house at night, for whoever does
so is sure to die." So no one dared to come. After
hearing this speech, in order to give the savages an idea
of my great power, I fired a gun. Its report filled the
people with awe.</p>
<p>After resting in Yengué we made preparations to cross
the beautiful Ogoulou River, and when I stood upon its
bank I said, "Ogoulou—such is thy Ishogo name; but,
as I am the first white man who sees thy waters, I call
thee Eckmühl, in remembrance of a dear friend!"</p>
<p>We crossed the river in canoes, and then continued our
way, and after about six miles' journeying came to an
Ishogo village called Mokenga. It was the last Ishogo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
village to which the Apono were to take me. They had
fulfilled their mission, and had led me toward the east
as far as they could go.</p>
<p>Mokenga was a beautiful village, with a wide and
clean street; but as we walked through it we saw that
the doors of the houses were all shut, and there was not
one Ishogo to be seen. Nevertheless, we marched through
the village until we came to the ouandja. A few men
were then seen peeping at us from afar with frightened
looks. Kombila called to them, saying, "How is it that
when strangers come to your village you do not hasten
to salute them?" Then they recognized some of my
porters, and shouted back, "You are right! you are
right!" Some of the elders came to us, and saluted us
in the Ishogo fashion—that is, by clapping the hands together,
and then stretching them out again, showing the
palms.</p>
<p>Kombila made a speech, and other Aponos also spoke.
Kombila cried out, in his stentorian voice, "If you are
not pleased, tell us, and we will take the Spirit to another
village where the people will be glad to welcome us."
Then the elders of the village withdrew together, and
presently came back, saying, "We are pleased, and gladly
welcome the Oguizi;" and then huts were given to us.</p>
<p>The Ishogos have really good large huts, many of
which were adorned with roomy piazzas. The forest
round the village of Mokenga was filled with leopards,
so that the people could not sleep outside their huts in
very warm weather, and every goat was carefully guarded
in order not to become the prey of those beasts. In
the centre of the village were two goat-houses, built so
strongly that the leopards could not get in, and every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
evening the goats were shut up. The Ishogos not only
have goats, but also a small species of poultry, and almost
every house has a parrot of the gray variety with red tail.
Bee-hives were also plentiful.</p>
<p>Not far from the goat-house were found two large
trees that were planted when the village was built, and
upon them were thousands of birds' nests, with myriads
of birds, which made a fearful noise. These birds lived
all the year round in Mokenga. I have given you a description
of their colony in "Wild Life under the Equator."</p>
<p>One morning, before the people were up, I took the
road leading to the spring from which the villagers got
their water, for I wanted to see it. The path led down
the hill, and soon a charming sight met my eye. The
landscape was lovely. A rill of water, clear, cold, and
pure, leaped from the lower part of a precipitous hill,
and, with a fall of about nine feet, fell into a crystal basin
filled with beautiful pebbles. From the basin a rivulet
crawled along a bed of small pebbles down to the
lower level, winding through a most beautiful forest.
The scene was very beautiful.</p>
<p>One day, when I had seated myself below the fall, the
rays of the sun, peeping through an opening, happened
to shine upon the water, and made it look like running
crystal. Below the cascade, the bed of the little stream,
filled with pebbles of quartz, sparkled as if the pebbles
had been diamonds; they might have been taken for
gems while the sun was shining upon them. Water-lilies,
white as snow, grew here and there, and moved to and
fro, tossed by the water flowing toward the great river
Rembo. The water looked like the water of life, and so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
it was. I said to myself, "When God is good to man, he
is good to all; for all kinds of living creatures come to
this stream, and drink of the water which is life to them."</p>
<p>The gentle ripple of the stream, as it glided down,
sounded like music, and made me think. I could not
help it. My thoughts wandered far over the mountains,
and the lands I had crossed and discovered, and far beyond
the sea, to the land where the great Mississippi
flows. I looked intently at the water. Now and then
I could see a little pebble rolling along; then it would
stand still for a while, and again roll on, and every roll
wore it away and rounded it. As it kept rolling down
the stream day after day, year after year, it would
become daily less and less in size. I said to myself,
"What does keep still? Since the beginning of the
world, nothing has stood still; every thing goes on and
on, and will continue to do so till the end."</p>
<p>Just as I was beginning to think deeply on the subject,
a leaf fell from a tree into the water, and was carried
away down the stream. Now it would strand on
the shore, or on some little island which seemed to have
been made for a resting-place, and then it would be carried
away again by the swift current. I wondered what
would be the journey of that little leaf. Would it be
carried all the way to the sea? Surely it could not tell,
neither could I tell how long a time it would take to get
to the sea, nor what would happen to it during the passage.
Our life, I thought, is very much like the journey
of that little leaf: it knew not what was before it, nor
do we know what will happen to us.</p>
<p>Such is life. From the day we are born we know not
how we shall be carried on by the stream of life. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>
may strand on the shore, or we may glide gently down
the current; but, like this little leaf, on our journey we
must meet with whirlpools and rocky shores, rapids and
precipices, and many obstacles. Storms may overtake
us and strand us, but the end of the journey is sure to
come, and then the great and the learned, the rich and
the poor, the Christian and the heathen, the Moslem and
the Jew, are sure to meet.</p>
<p>I followed the little leaf till it disappeared from my
sight forever. Another came and followed it, and another,
and another, and they all vanished after a while,
never to come back to the same spot. So it is with man,
I thought. One disappears from sight—Death has taken
him. Another comes and takes his place; another and
another follow each other, as these leaves did, and all go
to the same goal—Death.</p>
<p>I said to myself, "I have drifted away like one of
these leaves; sometimes tossed by the sea, sometimes by
the wind, going to and fro, carried down the journey of
life, meeting storms and breakers. I can not tell where
I shall drift, for no man can tell what the future has in
store for him. God alone knows whither the little leaf
and I are drifting."</p>
<p>As I continued my reverie, thinking of life and its
mysteries, and of the future, a beautiful butterfly made
its appearance. Its colors were brilliant—red and white,
blue and gold. It went from lily to lily, caring apparently
for nothing but the sweets of life. I could not help
saying to myself, "How many are like this little butterfly!
but how little we know, for I am sure this butterfly has
its troubles, and so have those who have made the world
and its pleasures the flowers upon which they live."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p>
<p>The butterfly had hardly disappeared from sight when
a bird came—what a sweet little bird! I see it still by
that little stream of Mokenga, though years have passed
away. Down the tree he came fluttering from branch to
branch, looking at the water, calling for his mate, as if to
say, "I have found water; come and let us drink together;"
but the absent one did not come. Soon afterward
the bird was on the shore, its little feet leaving prints
upon the sand. It came to one spot and stopped, gave a
warble of joy, then drank, and between each sip sang, as
if to tell how happy he was, and to thank God for that
beautiful water. After drinking, it spread its wings and
bathed its little body in the spring of Mokenga, then
flew away, hid in the thick leaves out of my sight, and
for a while I heard it singing.</p>
<p>"How grateful you seemed to be, little birdie, to that
God who gave you this nice water to drink!" I said;
"but, though you are happy just now, I know that you
have your sorrows and troubles,<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> like every creature
which God has made, from man down to the smallest insect."</p>
<p>After the little bird had gone I went to the spot where
it had drank. Nothing could be seen but its footprints,
and even these would remain but a short time, and after
a while no one would ever know where its feet had been.
So it is with the footprints of man—who can tell where
they come upon the highways?</p>
<p>Not far from where I stood the stream was deeper.
The little pebbles looked so pretty, the water so clear, so
pure, and so cool, that I could not withstand the tempta<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>tion,
and, like the little bird, I drank, and thought there
was not a beverage that ever was so good, for God had
made it for man and for his creatures. Many times, in
these grand and beautiful regions of Equatorial Africa,
I have exclaimed, on beholding the beautiful water which
abounds every where, and after I had quenched my thirst,
"There is nothing so good and so harmless as the water
that God created!"</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p225.png" width="150"
height="150" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p226.png" width="400"
height="83" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
<p class="center">GROTESQUE HEAD-DRESSES.—CURIOUS FASHIONS IN TEETH.—A
VENERABLE GRANITE BOULDER.—INTERIOR OF A
HUT.—A WARLIKE RACE OF SAVAGES.—GIVING THEM
AN ELECTRIC SHOCK.</p>
<p class="p2">H<span class="smcap">ow</span> strange were those Ishogos! They were unlike
all the other savages I met. What a queer way to arrange
their hair! It requires from twenty-five to thirty
years for an Ishogo woman to be able to build upon her
head one of their grotesque head-dresses. The accompanying
pictures will show you how they look. But you
will ask how they can arrange hair in such a manner. I
will tell you: A frame is made, and the hair is worked
upon it; but if there is no frame, then they use grass-cloth,
or any other stuffing, and give the shape they wish
to the head-dress. A well-known hair-dresser, who, by
the way, is always a female, is a great person in an Ishogo
village, and is kept pretty busy from morning till afternoon.
It takes much time to work up the long wool on
these negroes' heads, but, when one of these heads of hair,
or <i>chignons</i>, is made, it lasts for a long time—sometimes
for two or three months—without requiring repair. I
need not tell you that after a few weeks the head gets
filled with specimens of natural history. The Ishogo
women use a queer comb: it is like a sharp-pointed needle
from one to eighteen inches in length, and, when the
insects bite, the point is applied with vigor.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Head"><img src="images/i_p227a.png" width="300"
height="323" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
HORIZONTAL CHIGNON.
</div></div>
<div class="figcentern6"><img src="images/i_p227b.png" width="275"
height="356" alt="" title="" />
<div class="caption">
VERTICAL CHIGNON.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcentern6"><img src="images/i_p228a.png" width="375"
height="485" alt="" title="" />
<div class="caption">
MALE HEAD-DRESS.
</div></div>
<div class="figcentern6"><img src="images/i_p228b.png" width="375"
height="472" alt="" title="" />
<div class="caption">
OBLIQUE CHIGNON.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span></p>
<p>A great quantity of palm oil is used in dressing the
hair, and, as the natives never wash their heads, the odor
is not pleasant. When a woman comes out with a newly-made
<i>chignon</i>, the little Ishogo girls exclaim, "When
shall I be old enough to wear one of these? How beautiful
they are!"</p>
<p>Every morning, instead of taking a bath, the Ishogos
rub themselves with oil, mixed with a red dye made from
the wood of a forest tree.</p>
<p>All the people have their two upper middle incisor
teeth taken out, with the two middle lower ones, and
often the four upper incisors are all extracted. They
think they look handsome without front teeth. Their
bodies are all tattooed. Their eyebrows are shaved at
intervals of a few days, and their eyelashes are also
pulled out from time to time.</p>
<p>Many who can afford it wear round the neck a loose
ring of iron of the size of a finger, and if they are rich
they wear on their ankles and wrists three or four loose
iron or copper rings, with which they make music when
they dance. Not an Ishogo woman has her ears pierced
for ear-rings. This is extraordinary, for all savages seem
fond of ear-rings.</p>
<p>The days passed pleasantly while I was in the village
of Mokenga. I loved the villagers, and, besides, the
country was beautiful. The mountains were lovely; the
streams of clear water were abundant; around the village
were immense groves of plantain-trees, in the midst
of which, giant-like, rose gracefully a great number of
palm-trees; the lime-trees were covered with ripe yellow
limes; wild Cayenne pepper grew every where; and back
of all stood the great tall trees of the forest, with their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
dark foliage, and with creepers hanging down from their
branches, while underneath the trees was the thick jungle,
into which man could hardly penetrate. All was romantic
and wonderful.</p>
<p>Not far from the village stood a very large solitary
boulder of granite. How did it come there? The people
looked at the huge stone with veneration. They said
a spirit brought it there long, long ago. This boulder
stood by the path leading to the spring which supplied
the villagers with drinking water, and the women of the
village were constantly going with their calabashes to get
the cool water. When I ascended the hill in returning
from my walks, I was fond of stopping to rest upon this
boulder, and it was a perpetual wonder to me.</p>
<p>But one day there was a great excitement in Mokenga.
The people would go toward the boulder, and then
come back with a frightened aspect, and look toward
my hut apparently in great fear. Indeed, they were so
alarmed that they fled from me when I looked at them.
The Oguizi, they said, had got up from his slumber during
the night, and had gone to the boulder, and taken it
upon his shoulders and moved it away; for all said it
was not in the same place that it had formerly occupied.
"How strong is the Oguizi!" they said; "he can move
mountains!" During the day they came, covered with
the chalk of the alumbi, and danced around my hut
while I was in the forest, shouting, "Great Oguizi, do
not be angry with us!"</p>
<p>The hut which the Mokenga people gave me was quite
a sight. The furniture of an Ishogo house is unique, and
I am going to give you an inside view of it.</p>
<p>My own house was twenty-one feet long and eight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
feet wide. In the middle there was a door, with twelve
carved round spots, painted black; the outside ring was
painted white, and the background was red. The door
was twenty-seven inches in height. The house had three
rooms, and from the roof were suspended great numbers
of baskets and dishes of wicker-work, made from a kind
of wild <i>rotang</i>. Baskets and dishes constitute a part of
the wealth of an Ishogo household, and great numbers
of them are given to the girls when they marry. Hung
to the roof were also large quantities of calabashes which
had been hardened by the smoke. A large cake of tobacco
had also been hung up, and all around were earthen-ware
pots and jars, used for cooking purposes, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
cotton bags, several looms, spears, bows, arrows, battle-axes,
and mats.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Idol"><img src="images/i_p231.png" width="400"
height="358" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
AFRICAN GOAT, CHICKEN, PARROT, AND IDOL.
</div></div>
<p>The Ishogos and I gradually became very friendly.
We had many nice talks together, and I heard strange
tales, and more stories about the Dwarfs.</p>
<p>"Yes," said the Ishogos, "but a little while ago there
was a settlement of the Dwarfs not far from Mokenga,
but they have moved, for they are like the antelope; they
never stay long at the same place."</p>
<p>"You are in the country of the Dwarfs, Oguizi," they
continued; "their villages are scattered in our great forest,
where they move from place to place, and none of us
know where they go after they leave."</p>
<p>An Ashango man was in Mokenga on a visit while I
staid there. An Ishogo had married his daughter. He,
too, said that there were many settlements of Dwarfs in
his country, and he promised that I should see them when
I went there. The name of his village is Niembouai,
and he said he should tell his people that we were coming;
for the Ishogos were to take me there, and leave
me in the hands of the Ashangos, who, in their turn,
were to take me, as the Ishogos often say, where my
heart led me.</p>
<p>After a very pleasant time in Mokenga, we left that
place for the Ashango country, inhabited by the new
people who were said by the Ishogos to speak the same
language as the Aponos. The villagers had begun to
love me, for I had given them many things; having too
much luggage, I was rather generous with them, and had
given the women great quantities of beads. There was
great excitement in Mokenga before we left, and, as my
Ishogo porters, headed by Mokounga, took up their loads,
the people were wild with agitation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p>
<p>During the day we crossed a mountain called Migoma,
and saw Mount Njiangala. From Migoma I could see
the country all around. As far as my eye could reach I
saw nothing but mountains covered with trees. "There,"
said the Ishogos to me, "live gorillas, chimpanzees,
Dwarfs, elephants, and all kinds of wild beasts."</p>
<p>The traveling was hard, but on we went, still toward
the east, and before dark of the first day we came to a
mountain called Mouïda. At its base was a beautiful
stream called Mabomina. We encamped for the night,
all feeling very tired. We had to keep watch carefully
over our fires, for leopards were plentiful. The next
morning we started, glad to get out of the haunts of these
animals, which had been prowling around our camp all
night.</p>
<p>After some severe traveling we arrived at the bank of
a river called Odiganga. After crossing the stream we
came upon a new tribe of wild Africans called the Ashangos.
There was a scream of fear among them when I
made my appearance; but the Ishogos cried out, "Ashango,
do not be afraid; we are with the Oguizi." I could
see at a glance that the Ashangos were a warlike race.
The village was called Magonga, meaning "spear."
Back of it was a mountain, towering high in the air,
called Madombo. We spent the night in the village,
and after leaving it we had an awful task in ascending
Mount Madombo. The path was so steep that we had
to aid ourselves by using the bushes and creepers hanging
from the trees. It was all we could do to succeed.
I would not have liked any fighting at that spot.</p>
<p>On our journey we found that these wild Ashangos
were very numerous in these mountains. Village after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
village was passed by us in the midst of a profound silence,
sometimes broken by the people who had heard of
our approach, and were hiding themselves in their huts.
At other times, after we had passed, they would shout,
"The Oguizi has black feet and a white face!" (They
thought my boots were my own skin.) "He has no toes!
What queer feet the Oguizi has!"</p>
<p>My seven Commi were perfectly delighted with their
journey; our misfortunes were forgotten.</p>
<p>After a long journey over the mountains and through
a wild region, we came at last to the village of Niembouai.
I was glad to reach it, for there seemed to be no
dry season in that part of the world. It rains all the
year round. The people, though shy, did not run away,
but were very difficult of approach. Our Ashango friend,
whom we had met at Mokenga, had done his best to allay
their fears, and he and a deputation of the Niembouai
had come to Magonga to meet us, and to take us to their
own country. So every thing was ready for my reception.
When I reached Niembouai the best house of the
village was given to me. It belonged to the elder who
had seen me at Mokenga, and who claimed the right to
have me as his guest.</p>
<p>The next day after my arrival the supposed chief came.
I had no way of knowing if he was the true chief. A
grand palaver was held, and I gave presents of beads,
trinkets, etc., to him and to forty-three elders, and to the
queen and other women. After the presents had been
given I thought I would show them my power, and ordered
guns to be fired. This filled them with fear. "He
holds the thunder in his hand!" they said. "Oh, look at
the great Oguizi! look at his feet! look at his hair! look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235"></a><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236"></a><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
at his nose! Look at him! Who would ever have
thought of such a kind of oguizi, for he is so unlike other
oguizis?"</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Ashangos"><img src="images/i_p236.png" width="450"
height="280" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
SHOCKING THE ASHANGOS.
</div></div>
<p>After the excitement was over I told the Ashangos to
keep still. I then went into my hut and brought out a
Geneva musical box of large size, and when I touched
the spring it began to play. I moved off. A dead silence
prevailed. By instinct the Ashangos moved off
too, and a circle was formed by them around the box.
They all listened to "the spirit," to "the devil that was
inside of that box" talking to me. Fear had seized upon
them. I walked away. They stood like statues, not daring
to move a step. They were spell-bound.</p>
<p>After a few moments I took the box back into my hut,
and brought out a powerful electric battery. Then I ordered
the forty-three elders and the king to come and
stand in a line. They came, but were evidently awed.
The people dared not say a word. Every thing being
ready, I told them to hold the ninety feet of conducting
wire. "Hold hard!" I cried.</p>
<p>The people looked at the old men with wonder, and
could not understand how they dared to hold that charmed
string of the Oguizi. The Ishogos, my guides, were themselves
bewildered, for they had not seen this thing in their
village. My Commi men did not utter a word, but their
faces were as long as if they never had seen any thing.</p>
<p>"Hold on!" I repeated; "do not let the string go out
of your hands." I then gave a powerful continuous
shock. The arms of the elders twisted backward against
their will, and their bodies bent over; but they still held
the wire, which, indeed, now they had not the power to
drop. Their mouths were wide open; their bodies trem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>bled
from the continuous electric shock; they looked at
me and cried "Oh! oh! oh! Yo! yo! yo!" I had really
given a too powerful shock. The people fled.</p>
<p>In an instant all was over. I stopped the current of
electricity. The wire fell from the elders' hands, and
they looked at me in perfect bewilderment. The people
came back. The elders explained their electric sensation,
and then a wild hurra and a shout went up. "There
is not another great oguizi like the one in our village,"
was the general exclamation; and they came and danced
around me, and sang mbuiti songs, bending their bodies
low, and looking at me in the face as if I had been one
of their idols. "Great Oguizi, do not be angry with us,"
they cried repeatedly.</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid, Ashangos," I said. I then ordered
my men to fire their guns again, and, to add to the noise,
our dogs began to bark; so that, with the barking, the
shouting, the firing, and the beating of drums by the natives,
Niembouai was very lively for a few minutes.</p>
<p>"Come again!" shouted the Ishogos. "The Oguizi we
brought to you has more things to show you." Then I
came out with a powerful magnet, which held many of
the implements of iron used by the Ashangos. Up and
down went the knives; the magnet sometimes held them
by the end, sometimes by the blade. The people were
so afraid of the magnet that not one of them dared to
touch it when I asked them to do so.</p>
<p>That night I hung a large clock under the piazza, and
the noise it made frightened the Ashangos very much.</p>
<p>My power was established. The electric battery had
been effective. How droll the sight was when they received
the shock! You would have laughed heartily if
you could have seen them.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p239.png" width="400"
height="103" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
<p class="center">VISIT TO A VILLAGE OF THE DWARFS.—WALK THROUGH
THE PRIMEVAL FOREST.—AN ANCIENT ACCOUNT OF THIS
STRANGE RACE.—A GREAT ASHANGO DANCE.—A WATCH
AND A TREMENDOUS SNEEZE.—FIRST VIEW OF THE
DWARFS.—QUEER SPECIMENS OF HUMANITY.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">he</span> day after I had done before the Ashangos the
wonderful things I have described to you, as I was seated
under the veranda of the king with Mokounga and a
few Ashango elders, I began to talk of the country, and
I said to them, "People say that there are Dwarfs living
in the forest. Is it so, Ashangos? How far are they
from Niembouai?" "At no great distance from this
spot," said the chief, "there is a village of them; but,
Oguizi, if you want to see them you must not go to them
with a large number of attendants. You must go in a
small party. Take one of your Commi men, and I will
give you my nephew, who knows the Dwarfs, to go with
you. You must walk as cautiously as possible in the forest,
for those Dwarfs are like antelopes and gazelles;
they are shy and easily frightened. To see them you
must take them by surprise. No entreaty of ours could
induce them to stay in their settlements if they knew you
were coming. If you are careful, to-morrow we shall
see them, for as sure as I live there are Dwarfs in the
forest, and they are called Obongos."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p>
<p>Early the next morning the Ashango chief called one
of his nephews and another Ashango, and ordered them
to show me the way to the country of the Dwarfs. So
we got ready to start, I taking three of my Commi men
with me—Rebouka, Igalo, and Macondai. I had put on
a pair of light India-rubber boots in order not to make
any noise in the forest. Before leaving I gave a large
bunch of beads to one of the Ashango men, and told him
as soon as we made our appearance in the village to
shout, "Obongos, do not run away. Look here at the
beads which the Spirit brings to you. The Spirit is
your friend; do not be afraid; he comes only to see
you."</p>
<p>After leaving Niembouai we walked through the forest
in the most cautious manner, and as we approached the
settlement the Ashango man who was in the lead turned
his head toward us, put a finger on his lips for us to be
silent, and made a sign for us to walk very carefully, and
we advanced with more circumspection than ever. After
a while we came to the settlement of the Dwarfs.
Over a small area the undergrowth had been partially
cut away, and there stood twelve queer little houses,
which were the habitations of these strange people, but
not a Dwarf was to be seen. They had all gone. "Nobody
here," shouted the Ashangos, and the echo of their
voices alone disturbed the stillness of the forest. I looked
around at this strange little settlement of living Dwarfs.
There was no mistake about it. The fires were lighted,
the smoke ascended from the interior of their little shelters;
on a bed of charcoal embers there was a piece of
snake roasting; before another were two rats cooking;
on the ground there were several baskets of nuts, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
one of berries, with some large wild fruits that had been
gathered by the Dwarfs in the woods; while near by
stood several calabashes filled with water, and some bundles
of dried fish.</p>
<p>There was, indeed, no mistake: the huts I had seen on
my way to Niembouai were the same as these, and had
been made surely by the same race of Dwarfs. The
Ishogos had told me no idle stories. I wish you could
have seen the faces of Rebouka, Igalo, and Macondai.
"Oh! oh! oh!" they exclaimed. "Chally, what are we
not going to see in the wild countries you bring us to?
These people must be <i>niamas</i> (beasts); for, look," said
they, pointing to their huts, "the shelters of the nshiego-mbouvé
are quite as good."</p>
<p>I lingered a long while in the hope that the Dwarfs
would return, but they did not. We called for them,
but our voices were lost; we followed some of their
tracks, but it was of no use. "You can not overtake
them," said the Ashangos, "for they can run through the
jungle as fast as the gazelle and as silently as a snake,
and they are far off now. They are afraid of you." Before
leaving their settlement I hung on the lower branches
of trees surrounding their village strings of beads of
bright colors which I carried with me in my hunting-bag,
for I always had some ready to give away whenever I
wanted to do so. I had red, white, and yellow beads with
me that day, and the trees looked gay with these strings
hanging from them. We had taken goat-meat for the
Dwarfs, and I hung up three legs of goats also, and several
plantains, and I put a little salt on a leaf near a hut,
and we departed. So I hoped that the dwarfs, seeing
what we had left behind us, would become emboldened,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
and see that we did not desire to do them harm, and that
the next time they would not be afraid of us.</p>
<p>I was pleased to perceive on our arrival in the evening
at Niembouai that the Ashangos seemed glad to see us
again, though the chief was quite disappointed that we
had not seen the little Obongos.</p>
<p>That evening the Ashangos clustered around me, and
wanted me to talk to them, not in their own language,
but in the language of the oguizis (spirits). So I talked
to them, and their wonder was great, and I read to them
from a book, all of them listening the while with their
mouths wide open. Then I took my journal, and read
to them aloud in English, and after reading the part
which related to what I had done in the Ishogo village
of Mokenga, I translated it to them, to the great delight
of the Ishogos. The part I read related to my arrival in
Mokenga; how the people were afraid of me, and what
warm friends we became, and how the villagers said I
had moved the big boulder of granite. At this there
was a tremendous shout. Then I said, "Ashangos, the
oguizis do not forget any thing. What I write will always
be remembered. Now I will read you something
we have from an oguizi who wrote about Dwarfs. The
name of that oguizi was Herodotus." "And yours,"
shouted the Ishogos, "is Chally!"</p>
<p>"That oguizi, Herodotus," I continued, "wrote about
what he heard and what he saw, just as I do. Long, long
ago, before any tree of the forest round you had come out
of the ground" (I could not count in their language, and
say about 2300 years ago), "that oguizi, Herodotus, traveled
just as I am traveling to-day"—"<i>Oh! oh!</i>" shouted
the Ashangos. "Mamo! mamo!" shouted the Ishogos.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span>
"Listen! listen!" said my Commi men in English, for
they all now could talk a little English—"and he writes:</p>
<p>"'I did hear, indeed, what I will now relate, from certain
natives of Cyrene. Once upon a time, when they
were on a visit to the oracular shrine of Ammon, when
it chanced in the course of conversation with Etearchus,
the Ammonian king, the talk fell upon the Nile—how
that its source was unknown to all men. Etearchus,
upon this, mentioned that some Nasamonians had come
to his court, and, when asked if they could give any information
concerning the uninhabited parts of Libya, had
told the following tale (the Nasamonians are a Libyan
race who occupy the Syrtes and a tract of no great size
toward the east). They said there had grown up among
them some wild young men, the sons of certain chiefs,
who, when they came to man's estate, indulged in all
manners of extravagances, and, among other things,
drew lots for five of their number to go and explore the
desert parts of Libya, and try if they could not penetrate
farther than any had done previously. (The coast of Libya,
along the sea, which washes it to the north throughout
its entire length from Egypt to Cape Soloeis, which
is its farthest point, is inhabited by Libyans of many distinct
tribes, who possess the whole tract except certain portions
which belong to the Phœnicians and the Greeks.)
Above the coast-line and the country inhabited by the
maritime tribes, Libya is full of wild beasts, while beyond
the wild-beast region there is a tract which is wholly sand
and very scant of water, and utterly and entirely a desert.
The young men, therefore, dispatched on this errand by
their comrades, with a plentiful supply of water and provisions,
traveled at first through the inhabited region, pass<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span>ing
which they came to the wild-beast tract, whence they
finally entered upon the desert, which they proceeded to
cross in a direction from east to west. After journeying
for many days over a wide extent of land, they came at
last to a plain where they observed trees growing: approaching
them and seeing fruit on them, they proceeded
to gather it; while they were thus engaged there came
upon them some <i>dwarfish men under the middle height</i>,
who seized them and carried them off. The Nasamonians
did not understand a word of their language, nor had
they any acquaintance with the language of the Nasamonians.
They were carried across extensive marshes, and
finally came to a city in which all the men were of the
height of their conductors, and dark complexioned. A
great river flowed by the city, running from west to east,
and containing crocodiles. Etearchus conjectured this
river to be the Nile, and reason favors this idea.'"</p>
<p>"Oh! oh!" shouted my Commi men. "It is no wonder
that the white man forgets nothing. Chally, will
what you write about the strange things we see be remembered
in the same manner with what that man Herodotus
wrote?"</p>
<p>"I do not know," said I. "If the white people think
that what we saw is worthy of preservation, it will be remembered;
if not, it will be forgotten. But never mind,"
I said; "let us see for ourselves, and what a tale we shall
have to tell to our people on our return; for what we see
no other men have ever seen before us."</p>
<p>After my story of Herodotus the shades of evening
had come, and a great Ashango dance took place. How
wild, how strange the dancing was in the temple or house
of the mbuiti (idol)! The idol was a huge representa<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>tion
of a woman, and it stood at the end of the temple,
which was about fifty feet in length, and only ten feet
broad. The extremity of the building, where the mbuiti
was kept, was also dark, and looked weird by the light of
the torches as I entered. It was painted in red, white,
and black.</p>
<p>Along the walls on each side were Ashango men seated
on the ground, each having a lighted torch before him.
In the centre were two mbuiti-men (doctor, priest) dressed
with fibres of trees round their waist; each had one side
of his face painted white and the other side red. Down
the middle of the breast they had a broad yellow stripe,
and the hollow of the eye was painted yellow. They
make these different colors from different woods, the
coloring matter of which they mix with clay. All the
Ashangos were also streaked and daubed with various
colors, and by the light of their torches they looked like
a troop of devils assembled on the earth to celebrate
some diabolical rite. Round their legs were bound
sharp-pointed white leaves from the heart of the palm-tree;
some wore feathers, others had leaves behind their
ears, and all had a bundle of palm-leaves in their hands.
They did not stir when I came in. I told them not to
stop; that I came only to look at them.</p>
<p>They began by making all kinds of contortions, and
set up a deafening howl of wild songs. There was an
orchestra of instrumental performers near the idol, consisting
of three drummers beating as hard as they could
with their sticks on two <i>ngomas</i> (tam-tams), one harper,
and another man strumming with all his might on a
sounding-board. The two mbuiti-men danced in a most
fantastic manner, jumping and twisting their bodies into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span>
all sorts of shapes and contortions. Every time the
mbuiti-men opened their mouths to speak a dead silence
ensued. Now and then the men would all come and
dance round the mbuiti-men, and then they would all
face the idol, dance before it, and sing songs of praise
to it.</p>
<p>I could not stand this noise long, so I left my Ashangos
to enjoy themselves, and, as usual before retiring, ordered
my men to keep their watch in a proper manner.</p>
<p>"Don't be disheartened," said the chief of Niembouai
to me after my unsuccessful attempt to see the Dwarfs.
"I told you before that the little Obongos were as shy
as the antelopes and gazelles of the woods. You have
seen for yourself now that what I said was true. If you
are careful when you go again to their settlement, you
will probably surprise them, only don't wait long before
going again, for they may move away."</p>
<p>Before sunrise the next morning we started again for
the settlement of the little Dwarfs. We were still more
cautious than before in going through the jungle. This
time we took another direction to reach them, lest perhaps
they might be watching the path by which we had
come before.</p>
<p>After a while I thought I saw through the trunks of
the trees ahead of us several little houses of the Dwarfs.
I kept still, and immediately gave a sign to make my
guides maintain silence. They obeyed me on the instant,
and we lay motionless on the ground, hardly daring to
breathe. There was no mistake about it; we could see,
as we peeped through the trees, the houses of the Dwarfs,
but there seemed to be no life there, no Obongos. We
kept watching for more than half an hour in breathless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
silence, when lo! Rebouka gave a tremendous sneeze. I
looked at him. I wish you had seen his face. Another
sneeze was coming, and he was trying hard to prevent it,
and made all sorts of faces, but the look I gave him was
enough, I suppose, and the second sneeze was suppressed.
Then we got up and entered the little settlement of the
Dwarfs. There was not one of them there. The village
had been abandoned. The leaves over the little houses
were dry, and, while we were looking all round, suddenly
our bodies were covered with swarms of fleas, which
drove us out faster than we came. It was awful, for
they did bite savagely, as if they had not had any thing
to feed upon for a whole month.</p>
<p>We continued to walk very carefully, and after a while
we came near another settlement of the Dwarfs, which
was situated in the densest part of the forest. I see the
huts; we cross the little stream from which the Dwarfs
drew their water to drink. How careful we are as we
walk toward their habitations, our bodies bent almost
double, in order not to be easily discovered. I am excited—oh,
I would give so much to see the Dwarfs, to
speak to them! How craftily we advance! how cautious
we are for fear of alarming the shy inmates! My
Ashango guides hold bunches of beads. I see that the
beads we had hung to the trees have been taken away.</p>
<p>All our caution was in vain. The Dwarfs saw us, and
ran away in the woods. We rushed, but it was too late;
they had gone. But as we came into the settlement I
thought I saw three creatures lying flat on the ground,
and crawling through their small doors into their houses.
When we were in the very midst of the settlement I
shouted, "Is there any body here?" No answer. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
Ashangos shouted, "Is there any body here?" No answer.
I said to the Ashangos, "I am certain that I have
seen some of the Dwarfs go into their huts." Then they
shouted again, "Is there any body here?" The same silence.
Turning toward me, my guides said, "Oguizi,
your eyes have deceived you; there is no one here; they
have all fled. They are afraid of you." "I am not mistaken,"
I answered. I went with one Ashango toward
one of the huts where I thought I had seen one of the
Dwarfs go inside to hide, and as I came to the little door
I shouted again, "Is there any body here?" No answer.
The Ashango shouted, "Is there any body inside?" No
answer. "I told you, Oguizi, that they have all run
away." It did seem queer to me that I should have suffered
an optical delusion. I was perfectly sure that I had
seen three Dwarfs get inside of their huts. "Perhaps
they have broken through the back part, and have escaped,"
said I; so I walked round their little houses, but
every thing was right—nothing had gone outside through
the walls.</p>
<p>In order to make sure, I came again to the door, and
shouted, "Nobody here?" The same silence. I lay flat
on the ground, put my head inside of the door, and again
shouted, "Nobody here?" It was so dark inside that,
coming from the light, I could not see, so I extended my
arm in order to feel if there was any one within. Sweeping
my arm from left to right, at first I touched an empty
bed, composed of three sticks; then, feeling carefully, I
moved my arm gradually toward the right, when—hallo!
what do I feel? A leg! which I immediately grabbed
above the ankle, and a piercing shriek startled me. It
was the leg of a human being, and that human being a
Dwarf! I had got hold of a Dwarf!</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p>
<p>"Don't be afraid; the Spirit will do you no harm,"
said my Ashango guide.</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid," I said, in the Ashango language,
and I immediately pulled the creature I had seized by
the leg through the door, in the midst of great excitement
among my Commi men.</p>
<p>"A Dwarf!" I shouted, as the little creature came out.
"A woman!" I shouted again—"a pigmy!" The little
creature shrieked, looking at me. "Nchendé! nchendé!
nchendé!" said she. "Oh! oh! oh! Yo! yo! yo!" and
her piercing wail rent the air.</p>
<p>What a sight! I had never seen the like. "What!"
said I, "now I do see the Dwarfs of Equatorial Africa—the
Dwarfs of Homer, Herodotus—the Dwarfs of the
ancients."</p>
<p>How queer the little old woman looked! How frightened
she was! she trembled all over. She was neither
white nor black; she was of a yellow, or mulatto color.
"What a little head! what a little body! what a little
hand! what a little foot!" I exclaimed. "Oh, what
queer-looking hair!" said I, bewildered. The hair grew
on the head in little tufts apart from each other, and the
face was as wrinkled as a baked apple. I can not tell
you how delighted I was at my discovery.</p>
<p>So, giving my little prize to one of the Ashangos, and
ordering my Commi men to catch her if she tried to run
away, I went to the other little dwelling where I thought
I had seen another of the Dwarfs hide himself. The
two little huts stood close together. I shouted, "Nobody
here?" No answer. Then I did what I had done before,
and, getting my head inside of the hut through the
door, again shouted, "Nobody here?" No answer. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
moved my right hand to see if I could feel any body,
when, lo! I seized a leg, and immediately heard a shriek.
I pulled another strange little Dwarf out of the door.
It was also a woman, not quite so old as the first, but
having exactly the same appearance.</p>
<p>The two Dwarf-women looked at each other, and began
to cry and sing mournful songs, as if they expected
to be killed. I said to them, "Be not frightened!"</p>
<p>Then the Ashangos called to the last Dwarf who had
hid to come out; that it was no use, I had seen them all.
They had hardly spoken when I saw a little head peeping
out of the door, and my Ashangos made the creature
come out. It was a woman also, who began crying, and
the trio shrieked and cried, and cried and shrieked, wringing
their hands, till they got tired. They thought their
last day had come.</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid," said the Ashangos; "the Oguizi is
a good oguizi." "Don't be afraid," said my Commi men.</p>
<p>After a while they stopped crying, and began to look
at me more quietly.</p>
<p>For the first time I was able to look carefully at these
little Dwarfs. They had prominent cheek-bones, and
were yellow, their faces being exactly of the same color
as the chimpanzee; the palms of their hands were almost
as white as those of white people; they seemed well-proportioned,
but their eyes had an untamable wildness that
struck me at once; they had thick lips and flat noses, like
the negroes; their foreheads were low and narrow, and
their cheek-bones prominent; and their hair, which grew
in little, short tufts, was black, with a reddish tinge.</p>
<p>After a while I thought I heard a rustling in one of
the little houses, so I went there, and, looking inside, saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
it filled with the tiniest children. They were exceedingly
shy. When they saw me they hid their heads just as
young dogs or kittens would do, and got into a huddle,
and kept still. These were the little dwarfish children
who had remained in the village under the care of the
three women, while the Dwarfs had gone into the forest
to collect their evening meal—that is to say, nuts, fruits,
and berries—and to see if the traps they had set had
caught any game.</p>
<p>I immediately put beads around the necks of the
women, gave them a leg of wild boar and some plantains,
and told them to tell their people to remain, and
not to be afraid. I gave some meat to the little children,
who, as soon as I showed it to them, seized it just
in the same manner that Fighting Joe or ugly Tom would
have done, only, instead of fighting, they ran away immediately.</p>
<p>Very queer specimens these little children seemed to
be. They were, if any thing, lighter in color than the
older people, and they were such little bits of things that
they reminded me—I could not help it—of the chimpanzees
and nshiego-mbouvés I had captured at different
times, though their heads were much larger.</p>
<p>I waited in vain—the other inhabitants did not come
back; they were afraid of me. I told the women that
the next day I should return and bring them meat (for
they are said to be very fond of it), and plenty of beads.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p110.png" width="60"
height="59" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p252.png" width="400"
height="103" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV.</h2>
<p class="center">MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE DWARFS.—A SURPRISE VISIT.—A
GORGEOUS FEAST.—RIDICULOUS SHOW OF BABIES.—THE
DWARF LANGUAGE.—A DWARF DANCE.—THE OLD FABLE
OF THE CRANES AND THE PIGMIES.</p>
<p class="p2">A<span class="smcap">fter</span> several visits to the settlement of the Dwarfs
we became friends, but it took time. My great friend
among them was Misounda, an old woman, the first one
I had seen, and whom I pulled out of her own house; but
I had some trouble before I could tame friend Misounda.</p>
<p>One day I thought I would surprise the Dwarfs, and
come on them unawares, without having told my friend
Misounda I was coming. When I made my appearance
I just caught a glimpse of her feet as she was running
into her house. That was all I saw of Misounda. At all
the other huts little branches of trees had been stuck up
in front to show that the inmates were out, and that their
doors were shut, and that nobody could get in. These
were, indeed, queer doors. I had never seen the like.
They were of little use except for keeping out the dogs
and wild beasts. When I went in Misounda's hut and
got hold of her, she pretended to have been asleep. "So,
after all, these little Dwarfs," said I, "know how to lie
and how to deceive just as well as other people."</p>
<p>Upon one of my visits to the village I saw two other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
women, a man, and two children; all the other Obongos
had gone. So I made friends with them by giving them
meat and beads. I saw that the women were not the
mothers of the children. I looked at the doors of all
the huts; they all had branches put at the entrance to
signify that the owner was out. I do not know why, but
I begun to suspect that the mother of the children was
in the settlement, and close by where they stood. I had
my eyes upon one of the little houses as the one where
she was hiding; so I put aside the branches at the entrance,
and, putting half of my body into the hut, I succeeded
in discovering in the dark something which I recognized
after a while as a human being.</p>
<p>"Don't be afraid," I said. "Don't be afraid," repeated
my Ashango guides. The creature was a woman.
She came out with a sad countenance, and began to
weep. She had over her forehead a broad stripe of yellow
ochre. She was a widow, and had buried her husband
only a few days before.</p>
<p>"Where is the burial-ground of the Dwarfs?" I asked
of my Ashango guides. "Ask her," said I to them.</p>
<p>"No, Spirit," said they, "for if you ask them such a
question, these Dwarfs will fear you more than ever, and
you will never see them any more. They will flee far
away into the thickest part of the forest. We Ashango
people do not know even where they bury their dead.
They have no regular burial-ground. How could they?"
added my guide, "for they roam in the forest like the
gorilla, the nshiego-mbouvé, the kooloo-kamba, and the
nshiego. I believe," said the Ashango, "that all these
Dwarfs have come from the same father and the same
mother long, long ago."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p>
<p>Another time I came to the village of the Obongos
with two legs of goats, a leg of wild boar, ten house-rats
which had been trapped, a large dead snake, and two
land turtles, which I intended to give as a feast to the
Obongos. Rebouka, Macondai, and Igalo were with me,
and several Ashango women accompanied us. We had
several bunches of plantain, for I had resolved to give
them a regular banquet, and we had set out to have a
good time in their settlement. I had brought beads, a
looking-glass, some spoons, knives, forks, and one of my
little Geneva musical boxes. Guns were also to be fired,
for I was going to show the Dwarfs what the Oguizi could
do. When they saw us with food they received us with
great joy. "What a queer language," I thought, "these
Dwarfs have!" There was a wild Dwarf hurra, "Ya!
ye! yo! <i>Oua! oua!</i> Ké! ki-ke-ki!" when they saw
the good things that were to be eaten.</p>
<p>Nearly all the Dwarfs were here; very few of them
were absent. Misounda, who was my friend, and who
seemed to be less afraid of me than any body else, stood
by me, and kept her eyes upon the meat. There were
fifty-nine Dwarfs all told, including men, women, children,
and babies. What little things the babies were!
Smoke came out of every hut, fires were lighted all
round, nuts were roasting, berries and fruits had been
collected in great abundance, and snake-flesh was plentiful,
for the Dwarfs had been the day before on a feeding
excursion. Rats and mice had also been trapped.</p>
<p>"Obongos," said I, "we have come to have a good time.
First I am going to give to every one of you beads."
Then the Ashangos brought before them a basket containing
the beads, and I asked who was the chief. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
could not find him, and they would not tell me. Among
them were several old people.</p>
<p>The Dwarfs were now eager for beads, and surrounded
me, and, though I am a man of short stature, I seemed
a giant in the midst of them; and as for Rebouka and
Igalo, they appeared to be colossal. "Ya! ya! yo! yo!
ye! qui! quo! oh! ah! ri! ri! ké! ki! ké! ki!" seemed
to be the only sounds they could make in their excitement.
Their appearance was singular indeed, the larger
number of them being of a dirty yellow color. A few
of them were not more than four feet in height; others
were from four feet two inches to four feet seven inches
in height. But if they were short in size they were stoutly
built; like chimpanzees, they had big, broad chests,
and, though their legs were small, they were muscular
and strong. Their arms were also strong in proportion
to their size. There were gray-headed men, and gray-headed,
wrinkled old women among them, and very hideous
the old Dwarfs were. Their features resembled
very closely the features of a young chimpanzee. Some
had gray, others hazel eyes, while the eyes of a few were
black.</p>
<p>As I have said before, their hair was not like that of
the negroes and Ashangos among whom the Dwarfs live,
but grew in little short tufts apart from each other, and
the hair, after attaining a certain length, could not grow
longer. These little tufts looked like so many little balls
of wool. Many of the men had their chest and legs covered
with these little tufts of woolly hair. The women's
hair was no longer than that of the men, and it grew exactly
in the same manner.</p>
<p>I could not keep my eyes from the tiny babies. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
were ridiculously small, and much lighter in color than
the older people. Their mothers had a broad string of
leather hanging from their shoulders to carry them in.</p>
<p>There was great excitement among them as I distributed
the beads, and they would shout, "Look at his djivie
(nose); look at his mouna (mouth); look at his diarou
(head); look at his nchouié (hair); look at his mishou
(beard)!" and, in spite of my big mustache, they would
shout, "Is he a bagala oguizi (man spirit), or an oguizi
mokasho (woman spirit)?" Some declared that I was a
mokasho, others that I was a bagala. I did not forget
my friend Misounda.</p>
<p>After I had given them beads I took out a large looking-glass
which I had hidden, and put it in front of them.
Immediately they trembled with fright, and said, "Spirit,
don't kill us!" and turned their heads from the looking-glass.
Then the musical box was shown, and when
I had set it playing the Dwarfs lay down on the ground,
frightened by the brilliant, sparkling music of the mechanism,
and by turns looked at me and at the box. Some
of them ran away into their little huts. After their fears
were allayed I showed them a string of six little bells,
which I shook, whereat their little eyes brightened, and
their joy was unbounded when I gave them the bells.
One, of course, was for friend Misounda, who hung it by
a cord to her waist, and shook her body in order to make
it ring.</p>
<p>After this I ordered Igalo to bring me the meat, and
taking from my sheath my big, bright, sharp hunting-knife,
I cut it and distributed it among the Dwarfs.
Then I gave them the plantains, and told them to eat.
I wish you had seen the twisting of their mouths; it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
would have made you laugh. Immediately the little
Dwarfs scattered round their fires, and roasted the food
I had given them, and it was no sooner cooked than it
was eaten, they seemed to be so fond of flesh.</p>
<p>When they had finished eating the Obongos seemed
more sociable than I had ever seen them before. I seated
myself on a dead limb of a tree, and they came round
me and asked me to talk to them as the spirits talk. So
I took my journal, and read to them in English what I
had written the day before. After speaking to them in
the language of the Oguizis, I said, "Now talk to me in
the language of the Dwarfs;" and, pointing to my fingers,
I gave them to understand that I wanted to know how
they counted. So a Dwarf, taking hold of his hand, and
then one finger after another, counted one, moï; two,
beï; three, metato; four, djimabongo; five, djio; six, samouna;
seven, nchima; eight, misamouno; nine, nchouma;
ten, mbò-ta; and then raised his hands, intimating
that he could not count beyond ten.</p>
<p>One of them asked me if I lived in the soungui (moon),
then another if I lived in a niechi (star), another if I had
been long in the forest. Did I make the fine things I
gave them during the night?</p>
<p>"Now, Obongos," I said to them, "I want you to sing
and to dance the Dwarf dance for me." An old Dwarf
went out, and took out of his hut a ngoma (tam-tam), and
began to beat it; then the people struck up a chant, and
what queer singing it was! what shrill voices they had!
After a while they got excited, and began to dance, all
the while gesticulating wildly, leaping up, and kicking
backwards and forwards, and shaking their heads.</p>
<p>Then I fired two guns, the noise of which seemed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
stun them and fill them with fear. I gave them to understand
that when I saw an elephant, a leopard, a gorilla,
or any living thing, by making that noise I could
kill them, and to show them I could do it I brought down
a bird perched on a high tree near their settlement. How
astonished they seemed to be!</p>
<p>"After all," I said to myself, "though low in the scale
of intelligence, like their more civilized fellow-men, these
little creatures can dance and sing."</p>
<p>"Now, Obongos, that you have asked me about the
Oguizis," I said to them, "tell me about yourselves. Why
do you not build villages as other people do?"</p>
<p>"Oh," said they, "we do not build villages, for we never
like to remain long in the same place, for if we did we
should soon starve. When we have gathered all the
fruits, nuts, and berries around the place where we have
been living for a time, and trapped all the game there is
in the region, and food is becoming scarce, we move off
to some other part of the forest. We love to move; we
hate to tarry long at the same spot. We love to be free,
like the antelopes and gazelles."</p>
<p>"Why don't you plant for food, as other people do?"
I asked them.</p>
<p>"Why should we work," said they, "when there are
plenty of fruits, berries, and nuts around us? when there
is game in the woods, and fish in the rivers, and snakes,
rats, and mice are plentiful? We love the berries, the
nuts, and the fruits which grow wild much better than
the fruits the <i>big people</i> raise on their plantations. And
if we had villages," they said, "the strong and tall people
who live in the country might come and make war upon
us, kill us, and capture us."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p>
<p>"They do not desire to kill you," I said to them. "See
how friendly they are with you! When you trap much
game you exchange it for plantains with them. Why
don't you wear clothing?"</p>
<p>"Why," said they, "the fire is our means of keeping
warm, and then the <i>big people</i> give us their grass-cloth
when they have done wearing it."</p>
<p>"Why don't you work iron, and make spears and battle-axes,
so that you might be able to defend yourselves,
and be not afraid of war?"</p>
<p>"We do not know how to work iron; it takes too
much time; it is too hard work. We can make bows,
and we make arrows with hard wood, and can poison
them. We know how to make traps to trap game, and
we trap game in far greater number than we can kill it
when we go hunting; and we love to go hunting."</p>
<p>"Why don't you make bigger cabins?"</p>
<p>"We do not want to make bigger cabins; it would be
too much trouble, and we do not know how. These are
good enough for us; they keep the rain from us, and we
build them so rapidly."</p>
<p>"Don't the leopards sometimes come and eat some of
you?"</p>
<p>"Yes, they do!" they exclaimed. "Then we move off
far away, several days' journey from where the leopards
have come to eat some of us; and often we make traps
to catch them. We hate the leopards!" the Obongos
shouted with one voice.</p>
<p>"How do you make your fires? tell me;" and I could
not help thinking that, however wild a man was, even
though he might be apparently little above the chimpanzee,
he had always a fire, and knew how to make it.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
<p>They showed me flint-stones, and a species of oakum
coming from the palm-tree, and said they knocked these
stones against each other, and the sparks gave them fire.</p>
<p>Then, to astonish them, I took a match from my match-box
and lighted it. As soon as they saw the flame a wild
shout rang through the settlement.</p>
<p>"Obongos, tell me," said I, "how you get your wives,
for your settlements are far apart, and you have no paths
leading through the forest from one to another. You
never know how far the next settlement of the Dwarfs
may be from yours."</p>
<p>"It is true," said they, "that sometimes we do not
know where the next encampment of the Obongos may
be, and we do not wish to know, for sometimes we fight
among ourselves, and if we lived near together we should
become too numerous, and find it difficult to procure
berries and game. Our people never leave one settlement
for another. Generation after generation we have
lived among ourselves, and married among ourselves. It
is but seldom we permit a stranger from another Obongo
settlement to come among us."</p>
<p>"How far," said I, pointing to the east, "do you meet
Obongos?"</p>
<p>"Far, far away," they answered, "toward where the
sun rises, Obongos are found scattered in the great forest.
We love the woods, for there we live, and if we
were to live any where else we should starve."</p>
<p>"As you wander through the forest," I asked, "don't
you sometimes come to prairies?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said they, and here an old Obongo addressed
himself to my Ashango interpreter. "When I was a boy,
we had our settlement for a long time in the forest not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
far from a big <i>prairie</i>, and farther off there was a big
river. Since then," said the old Obongo, "as we moved
we have turned our backs upon where the sun rises, and
marched in the direction where the sun sets" (which
meant that they had been migrating from the east toward
the west).</p>
<p>"Did you not see," said I, continuing my questions,
"birds with long legs and long beaks in those prairies?"</p>
<p>"Yes," said all the Obongos; "sometimes we kill them,
for we love their flesh."</p>
<p>I could not but remember the description Homer gave
of the cranes and the Pigmies, and I here give it to you
in the translation of a man of whom every American
should be proud as one of the greatest poets of the age.
Mr. William Cullen Bryant's translation reads as follows:</p>
<div class="poetry-container">
<div class="poetry"><div class="stanza">
<div class="line i6">"As when the cry</div>
<div class="line">Of cranes is in the air, that, flying south</div>
<div class="line">From winter and its mighty breadth of rain,</div>
<div class="line">Wing their way over ocean, and at dawn</div>
<div class="line">Bring fearful battle to the Pigmy race,</div>
<div class="line">Bloodshed and death."—<i>Iliad</i>, iii., 3-8.</div>
</div></div></div>
<p>Of course our friend Homer, the grand old bard that
will never die, did not see the Dwarfs, and only related
what he had heard of them, and, like every thing that is
transmitted from mouth to mouth, and from country to
country, the story has become very much exaggerated.</p>
<p>Beyond a doubt, at certain seasons of every year the
cranes left the country of which Homer spoke, for cranes
are migratory, and their migration was toward the Nile;
thence they winged their flight toward the Upper Nile,
and spread all over the interior of Africa; and, as they
came to the country of the Dwarfs, the Dwarfs came out
to kill them, instead of their coming to kill the Dwarfs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
The dwarfs of Homer's time killed them for food, as they
still kill them in Equatorial Africa in certain seasons of
the year.</p>
<p>I am now going to tell you what I wrote about these
big cranes before I had even heard of the Country of the
Dwarfs, or that such people as the Obongos ever existed:</p>
<p>"This account of Homer has been thought fabulous;
for 'How,' it has been asked, 'could cranes attack a race
of men?'</p>
<p>"Where were these pigmies to exist? I will try to
show that Homer had some reason to say what he wrote.
In the first book which I published (called 'Explorations
in Equatorial Africa') I did not mention what Homer had
written. I had heard of the Dwarfs, but I dismissed the
account given to me by the Apingi as fabulous. In chap.
xiv., p. 260, I say:</p>
<p>"'The dry season was now setting in in earnest, and I
devoted the whole month of July to exploring the country
along the sea-shore. It is curious that most of the
birds which were so abundant during the rainy season
had by this time taken their leave, and other birds in immense
numbers flocked in to feed on the fish, which now
leave the sea-shore and bars of the river mouth, and ascend
the river to spawn.'</p>
<p>"In the four paragraphs in advance on the same page
I said, 'Birds flocked in immense numbers on the prairies,
whither they came to hatch their young.</p>
<p>"'The ugly marabouts, from whose tails our ladies get
the splendid feathers for their bonnets, were there in
thousands. Pelicans waded on the river's banks all day
in prodigious swarms, gulping down the luckless fish
which came in their way.'</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
<p>"In the next paragraph, page 261, I continue:</p>
<p>"'And on the sandy point one morning I found great
flocks of the <i>Ibis religiosa</i> (the sacred Ibis of the Egyptians),
which had arrived overnight, whence I could not
tell.</p>
<p>"'Ducks of various kinds built their nests in every
creek and on every new islet that appeared with the receding
waters. I used to hunt those until I got tired of
duck-meat, fine as it is. Cranes, too, and numerous other
water-fowl, flocked in every day, of different species. All
came, by some strange instinct, to feed upon the vast
shoals of fish which literally filled the river.</p>
<p>"'On the sea-shore I sometimes caught a bird, the
<i>Sula capensis</i>, which had been driven ashore by the
treacherous waves to which it had trusted itself, and
could not, for some mysterious reason, get away again.</p>
<p>"'And, finally, every sand-bar is covered with gulls,
whose shrill screams are heard from morning till night
as they fly about greedily after their finny prey.'</p>
<p>"I terminated the description by saying, 'It is a splendid
time now for sportsmen, and I thought of some of
my New York friends who would have enjoyed the great
plenty of game that was now here.'</p>
<p>"In chap. xiii. of the same book, p. 199, I wrote:</p>
<p>"'From Igalé to Aniambié was two hours' walk,
through grass-fields, in which we found numerous birds,
some of them new to me. One in particular, the <i>Mycteria
Senegalensis</i>, had such legs that it fairly outwalked
me. I tried to catch it, but, though it would not take to
the wing, it kept so far ahead that I could not even get
a fair shot at it.</p>
<p>"'These <i>Mycteria Senegalenses</i> are among the largest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
of cranes. They have a long neck, and a very powerful
beak, from eight to ten inches in length, and I killed several
of them, which I brought back. I had grand shooting
with them, and many a time I gave up the chase;
but when I killed one I took good care to see that the
bird could not hurt me and was quite dead before I approached
it.'</p>
<p>"Hence I conclude that the description of Homer is
correct as regards the great number of cranes, and that
he was right, for you see that they came in the dry season,
and when the rains came they disappeared from the
country.</p>
<p>"The dwarfish race of whom I speak are great hunters,
and is it not probable that during the dry season, when the
cranes came, there was rejoicing in the Pigmean race? for
there would be food and meat for them; and they would
fight also with the large crane, the <i>Mycteria Senegalensis</i>,
which probably they could not kill at once, and hence it
required on the part of the Dwarfs great dexterity to
capture them. For myself, I was always careful in approaching
the <i>Mycteria Senegalensis</i>, whose height is
from four to five feet, as I have said, when quite clear.
The natives, as I approached the first that I killed, shouted
to me, 'Take care; he will send his beak into your eye.'"</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p264.png" width="100"
height="162" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p111.png" width="400"
height="89" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI.</h2>
<p class="center">A MODERN TRAVELER'S ACCOUNT OF THE DWARFS AND
THEIR HABITS.—WHERE AND HOW THEY BURY THEIR
DEAD.—HUNTING FOR THE DWARFS.—HOW THEY MAKE
THEIR HUTS.</p>
<p class="p2">N<span class="smcap">ow</span> that I have told you what Herodotus and Homer
wrote about the Dwarfs, let us come to a more modern
account of them. We read the following in Rev. Dr.
Krapf's "Travels and Missionary Labors in East Africa:"</p>
<p>"Noteworthy are the reports which in the year 1840
were communicated to me by a slave from Enarea, who,
by order of the King of Shoa, was charged with the care
of my house in Angolala during my residence in Onkobez.
His name was Dilbo, and he was a native of Sabba,
in Enarea. As a youth, he had made caravan journeys
to Kaffa, and accompanied the slave-hunters from Kaffa
to Tuffte, in a ten-days' expedition, where they crossed
the Omo, some sixty feet wide, by means of a wooden
bridge, reaching from thence to Kullu in seven days,
which is but a few days' journey from the Dokos, a Pigmy
race of whom Dilbo told almost fabulous stories" (p. 50).</p>
<p>Then Dr. Krapf gives an account of Dilbo, which does
not bear on the subject, and then continues:</p>
<p>"He told me that to the south of Kaffa and Sura there
is a very sultry and humid country, with many bamboo
woods (meaning, no doubt, palm-trees), inhabited by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
race called Dokos, who are no bigger than boys ten years
old; that is, only four feet high. They have a dark olive-colored
complexion, and live in a completely savage
state, like the beasts, having neither houses, temples, nor
holy trees, like the Gallas, yet possessing something like
an idea of a higher being, called Yer, to whom, in moments
of wretchedness and anxiety, they pray, not in an
erect posture, but reversed, with the head on the ground,
and the feet supported upright against a tree or stone.
In prayer they say, 'Yer, if thou really dost exist, why
dost thou allow us thus to be slain? We do not ask thee
for food and clothing, for we live on serpents, ants, and
mice. Thou hast made us, why dost thou permit us to
be trodden under foot?' The Dokos have a chief, no
laws, no weapons. They do not hunt nor till the ground,
but live solely on fruits, roots, mice, serpents, ants, honey,
and the like, climbing trees and gathering the fruits like
monkeys, and both sexes go completely naked. They
have thick protruding lips, flat noses, and small eyes.
The hair is not woolly, and is worn by the women over
the shoulders. The nails on the hands and feet are allowed
to grow like the talons of vultures, and are used in
digging for ants, and in tearing to pieces the serpents,
which they devour raw, for they are unacquainted with
fire. The spine of the snake is the only ornament worn
around the neck, but they pierce the ears with a sharp-pointed
piece of wood."</p>
<p>Then Dr. Krapf adds that they are never sold beyond
Enarea, and continues as follows:</p>
<p>"Yet I can bear witness that I heard of these little
people not only in Shoa, but also in Ukambani, two degrees
to the south, and in Barava, a degree and a half to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
the north of the equator. In Barava a slave was shown
to me who accorded completely with the description of
Dilbo. He was four feet high, very thick set, dark complexioned,
and lively, and the people of the place assured
me that he was of the Pigmy race of the interior. It is
not impossible, too, that circumstances, such as continual
rains from May to January, and other means, may contribute
to produce a diminutive people of stunted development
in the interior of Africa. <i>A priori</i>, therefore,
the reports collected from different and mutually independent
points of Africa can not be directly contradicted,
only care must be taken to examine with caution the fabulous
element mixed up with what may be true by native
reporters. In the Suali dialect 'dogo' means small, and
in the language of Enarea 'doko' is indicative of an ignorant
and stupid person."</p>
<p>Now I think, though Dr. Krapf was a long way from
where I was, that his Dwarfs must be the same people as
the Obongos, though they do not bear the same name;
but you must remember that the Obongos are called by
three different names by other tribes. It is true the
Dwarf he saw was very black, but then there may be
some Dwarfs much darker than others, just as some negroes
are darker than others.</p>
<p>Then I said to the Ashango interpreter, "Ask the little
Obongos where they bury their dead." I wanted to know,
though I did not tell him why. I wanted the skeleton
of an Obongo to bring home, and I would have been
willing to give a thousand dollars for one.</p>
<p>"Don't ask such a question of the Obongos," said he.</p>
<p>"And why?" I inquired.</p>
<p>"Because," he answered, "they would be so frightened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
they would all run away. Even we ourselves, the Ashangos,
who are their friends, know not where they bury their
dead, and I will tell you why: they are afraid that the
Ashangos would steal the skulls of the dead people for
fetiches, and if they could procure but one they would
always know where the Obongos were in the forest."</p>
<p>"Tell me," said I, "how they bury their dead."</p>
<p>"When an Obongo dies," said my Ashango friend,
"there is great sorrow among the Dwarfs, and the men
are sent into every part of the forest to find a tall tree
which is hollow at the top. If they find one, they come
back to the settlement and say, 'We have found a tree
with a hollow.' Then the people travel into the forest,
guided by the man who has found the hollow tree, and
taking with them the body of the dead Obongo. When
they have reached the spot, some of them ascend the
tree, carrying with them creepers to be used as cords for
drawing up the body, and the corpse is then drawn up
and deposited in the hollow, which is immediately filled
with earth, and dry leaves, and the twigs of trees."</p>
<p>"But," said I, "big hollow trees, such as you have been
speaking of, are not found every day. If they do not
find one, what then?"</p>
<p>"It is so, Oguizi. Sometimes they can not find a big
hollow tree; then," said my Ashango guide, "they wander
into the forest, far from paths and villages, in search
of a little stream, which they turn from its natural bed,
and then dig in it a big, deep hole, wherein they bury
the body of the Obongo, after which they bring back the
water to its own bed again, and the water forever and
ever runs over the grave of the Obongo, and no one can
ever tell where the grave of the Obongo is."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p>
<p>"Why," said I to myself, "this way of burying an
Obongo reminds me of the burial of Attila."</p>
<p>This is all I know of the way the Obongos bury their
dead, and this was told me by the Ashangos. The Obongos,
who had seen me holding so long a talk with the
Ashangos, began to appear frightened, and asked what
we had been talking about. The Ashangos answered
that we had been talking about hunting wild beasts.
After a while we departed, apparently good friends with
them, but not before promising the Obongos that I would
come again and see them.</p>
<p>The next day I went hunting in order to kill meat and
bring it to the Dwarfs, and their delight was great when
I brought them five monkeys. A little while after I had
put the monkeys on the ground I said, "Dwarfs, let us
be good friends. Don't you see that I do not desire to
kill you or capture you? I wish only to know you well.
Every time I come to see you I bring you food and nice
things." "That is so," said the Dwarfs, headed by my
friend Misounda.</p>
<p>The hours passed away, and as evening approached I
said, "Dwarfs, what do you say to my spending the night
in your settlement, and going back to-morrow to Niembouai?"
"Muiri! muiri!" said the Dwarfs, and immediately
a little house was given me for the night. I was
glad, for I wanted to be able to say when I came back
home that I had slept in a house of the Dwarfs.</p>
<p>The little Dwarfs went into the woods to collect firewood
for me, and to look after their traps. After a while
they came back, and they, too, brought food. Misounda
brought me a basket of wild berries, and the other Obongos
presented me game, consisting of three beautiful fat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>
rats, a nice little mouse, one squirrel, two fish, and a piece
of snake. They laid these things before me. To please
them, I ordered the squirrel to be cooked on a bright charcoal
fire, and how delighted they were to see me eat it!
how they shouted when they saw me take mouthful after
mouthful!</p>
<p>The sun went down behind the trees, and soon after
it was dark in the village of the Dwarfs. I could see
that they were still afraid of me. They had an idea that
probably I wanted to capture some of them. At last the
time came for me to go to bed. I had some trouble to
get through the door, and when I was inside I lay down
on my bed made of sticks, and put my head on my revolvers
as a pillow. I had a little fire lighted so that the
smoke would drive the mosquitoes away, and before lying
down I looked round to see if there were any snakes.
You must always take that precaution in that part of the
world. The Dwarfs kept awake all night outside of
their huts, for they were not yet certain that I had not
come to capture some of them.</p>
<p>Their little huts were of a low, oval shape, like gipsy
tents. The lowest part, that nearest the entrance, was
about four feet from the ground; the greatest breadth
was also four feet. On each side were three or four
sticks for the man and woman to sleep upon. The huts
were made of flexible branches of trees, arched over and
fixed into the ground, the longest branches being in the
middle, and the others successively shorter, the whole being
covered with large leaves.</p>
<p>The next morning the Ashangos and the Dwarfs went
into the forest to look after the traps they had made to
capture game.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Dinner"><img src="images/i_p271.png" width="450"
height="281" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
DINNER WITH THE DWARFS.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></a><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
As the time of our departure from Niembouai had arrived,
I said to the Dwarfs that I must bid them good-by,
for I was going away toward where the sun rises. "Now
you see," said I, "you have always been afraid of me.
Tell me, have I done harm to any one of you?" "No,
no," they exclaimed; "no, no," said my friend Misounda.
So I shook hands with them, and they said to me in parting,
"You will see more little Dwarfs in the countries
where you are going. Be kind to them, as you have been
to us."</p>
<p>As I walked on through the jungle, my mind kept
dwelling on the strange Obongos. "If you want one of
them to take away with you," said my Ashango guide,
"we will capture one for you, if you will give us beads
and copper rings." "No, no," said I, "the Spirit does
not want to capture people; he wants only to see people."</p>
<p>Now I must tell you what I think of these Obongos.
I think that they are the very same people of whom Herodotus
and Homer had heard; that they are closely allied
to the Bushmen of South Africa, for the hair on
their heads grows in the same way; only they are darker
in color, and in that respect seem to be a shade between
the negro and the Bushman. They are also a little
shorter in stature than the Bushmen, and I have a
strong belief that in times past they belonged probably
to the same nation.</p>
<p>And now we must take leave of the Dwarfs, for I am
to talk to you of the great negro tribes in whose country
the little creatures live. If I should learn any thing
more about the Dwarfs as I go forward, I will surely relate
it to you.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p031.png" width="450"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
<p class="center">TRAVELING EASTWARD.—MEASURING HEIGHTS.—INSTRUMENTS
USED.—REACH MOUAOU-KOMBO.—APPREHENSIONS
OF THE PEOPLE.—PALAVER WITH THE CHIEF.—AN UNLUCKY
SHOT.—HOSTILITIES COMMENCED.</p>
<p class="p2">S<span class="smcap">everal</span> days have passed away since I have left the
Pigmies and the village of Niembouai, and I am traveling
toward the rising sun. The country is getting more
and more mountainous as we advance eastward, the forests
are very thick, the jungle is very dense, and many
of the trees are of immense size. An apparently perpetual
mist shrouds the summit of many of the hills, where
it rains almost every day, though on the sea-shore it is the
dry season. Village after village of the wild Ashango
inhabitants of the country have been passed by us; many
are deserted. The people are afraid of me, and do not
wish to see me.</p>
<p>Some of the mountains we passed had queer names.
One was called Birougou-Bouanga. I remember well
Birougou-Bouanga; it was 2574 feet in height.</p>
<p>In order to know the elevation of the country as I traveled
along, I had two kinds of instruments with me—aneroids,
and an apparatus for ascertaining at what point
water boils. The boiling apparatus was a queer-looking
instrument, and was a great object of fright to the negroes.
The illustration gives you an idea of the instru<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>ment.
Here is a policeman's lantern; in it is a lamp,
and on the top is a kind of kettle in which water is put
when to be used. To the kettle is attached by a screw
a thermometer, the bulb of which is immersed in the water.
A short time after the lamp is lit, the water boils
and forces the mercury along the tube; then the degrees
are read off on the instrument. With this reading
entered on the tables which are made for this instrument,
the height of the place where you are is obtained.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Observation"><img src="images/i_p275.png" width="450"
height="233" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
<p>INSTRUMENTS FOR OBSERVATIONS.</p>
<p>1. Iron Bottle for Quicksilver. 2. Aneroid. 3. Thermometer. 4. Artificial Horizon.
5. Sextant. 6. Glass to measure the cubic inches of Rain. 7. Rain-gauge
and Bottle. 8. Policeman's Lantern with Thermometer, <i>a</i>. 9. Brass Tube in
which to keep the Thermometer, <i>a</i>.</p>
</div></div>
<p>The aneroid looks very much like a large watch, but
having only one hand. The higher you ascend, the lower
the reading, on account of the atmospheric pressure.
This reading, referred to a table, gives the height, as by
boiling water. Any one of you, procuring these instruments
when going in the country, can amuse himself
when he travels in taking the height of the hills and
mountains he passes over.</p>
<p>On my return from the country of the Dwarfs I found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
improvements in the boiling apparatus, and also in the
artificial horizon. There is now a very small artificial
horizon, invented by my friend Captain George, of the
British Navy, and it is very portable, especially when
compared with the old one travelers had to use. It will
be a great boon to explorers. I doubt that a more useful
and safe one to the traveler can be made. Captain
George, I am very happy to say, is the gentleman who
taught me how to take astronomical observations, and
how to calculate them.</p>
<p>At the foot of Birougou-Bouanga was the village of
Niembouai-Olomba, which meant Upper Niembouai.
The head men of Niembouai and of Upper Niembouai
were two brothers, so the people consented to receive
me, and we tarried there a few days. The village was
situated just at the junction of two gorges or valleys, one
of which ran almost directly north and south, and the
other east and west. From the village, looking up, I
could see the sun as it rose almost from the natural horizon.
The wind during the day blew all the time from
the south, and early in the morning the temperature was
quite cool—69° Fahrenheit.</p>
<p>After leaving Niembouai-Olomba, and traveling
through the great and dense forest, we came to a village
called Mobana, the inhabitants belonging to the Ashango
tribe, for we were still in the Ashango territory. The
chief of Mobana was called Rakombo. The village was
situated at the summit of a mountain 2369 feet in height,
at the foot of which ran a beautiful stream called Bembo.
The Bembo was the first river I had reached which
ran toward the east, toward where the sun rose. How
glad I was! "It no doubt falls into the Congo River,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
I said, for I began to hear of a large stream in our line
of march going toward the rising sun.</p>
<p>The great embarrassment now was that the people
were so much afraid of me, not as a spirit who brings
the plague, but as a spirit whose evil eye they dared not
meet. I succeeded in leaving Mobana, as I had left
scores of villages before, without trouble, and Rakombo
had taken me to a village farther east with the name of
Mouaou-Kombo. The name of the village proper was
Mouaou, and the chief's name was Kombo. If the people
of the wild tribes I had passed before had been afraid
of me, the people of Mouaou-Kombo stood in still greater
dread of my coming. The people of Mobana, who
had taken me to that village, had disappeared one by one,
and Rakombo himself, their chief, had deserted me. So
I was left all alone with my Commi men among the
Mouaou-Kombo people.</p>
<p>A few days after my arrival at Mouaou-Kombo, if you
had sought me or my Commi men in the village, you
would not have found us there. Where were we? We
were encamped by ourselves not far from the village,
from which we had withdrawn to show the people that
we were tired of remaining there, and impatient to take
our departure. We had been busy that day in cutting
down trees around our camp to serve as an abatis and
safeguard, so that nobody could approach us without
making us aware of it by their noise in penetrating the
dense branches. We passed the night in reasonable security,
though without much fire, for our dogs, Andèko,
Commi-Nagoumba, Rover, Turk, Fierce, and Ndjègo,
would have in an instant apprised us by their barking of
any strange visitor attempting to enter the camp. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
our luggage was by us. The path from Mouaou-Kombo
to our retreat was very steep.</p>
<p>I had that day sent Igala, Rebouka, and Mouitchi,
armed to the teeth, along the path leading eastward, telling
them to look sharp, and to ascertain, if they came to
a village whether the inhabitants did not want us to pass
through their country; in fact, to learn all the news they
could, and make report to me. After two hours Igala
came back laughing, and saying that he had entered a
big village, from which the people had fled in perfect
terror, thinking I had come with him, but that finally he
had succeeded in holding a parley with some of the inhabitants,
and learned that they had trouble with the
Mouaou-Kombo people. Igala told them not to be
afraid of me, and that they must not be alarmed if they
should see me come to their village. So far all was
right; we knew exactly what was ahead of us. "Well
done," I said, "my boys."</p>
<p>The next morning a deputation of villagers of Mouaou-Kombo
came to our camp and begged us to come
back, saying that if I would return, in two days they
would conduct me by another route to the southeast in
order to avoid the hostile villages. So we returned to
the village, the villagers helping my men in carrying our
luggage back. Now I regretted that I had no more
Commi men with me, so that we might have been independent
of strangers for the transportation of our luggage.</p>
<p>As I came back to Mouaou-Kombo, little did I know
what a dark cloud was hanging over us, for my heart
was filled with joy at the prospect of soon continuing
our journey. Little did I dream of the storm that in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
short time was to burst upon us. Little did I think, as I
ascended the hill in the midst of the peals of laughter of
my Commi men and of the Ashangos, that there was
fighting and bloodshed in store; that I was soon to be
engaged with my men in defending our lives, and in
beating a disastrous retreat along the way we had come,
and see the mournful end of that glorious journey upon
which I had set my heart! Like the little leaf cast upon
the stream of Mokenga, I was drifting I knew not whither.
I had no knowledge then of the breakers ahead, and
now I am going to relate to you the sad story.</p>
<p>I had entered again the village of Mouaou-Kombo;
our luggage had been put back in the huts; Kombo, the
chief, headed by his elders, had come to receive me, beating
his kendo as he advanced. After a while the elders
departed, and the chief and his queen were seated by my
side in the street. The people were passing to and fro
to their accustomed avocations, and every thing was going
on as usual.</p>
<p>"Is it true," said Kombo to me, "that you Oguizis kill
people as we Ashangos kill monkeys and the wild beasts
of the forest? We Ashangos believe you do it, and that
is the reason we are afraid of you. We are even afraid
that your eye is an evil one, and that a look of yours can
bring death." Then the chief stopped and looked at me.</p>
<p>"Nèshi, nèshi, nèshi," I repeated three times (no, no, no),
and I spat on the ground to show him how I hated what
he had said. "No," said I, "Kombo, the Oguizi loves
people, loves the Ashangos, and kills no one."</p>
<p>As I was speaking, a goat, the peace-offering of the
king, stood before me, and several bunches of plantain
lay near by, which had been brought in a little before by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
his people. The king said, "Eat these, Spirit. In two
days I will conduct you where you want to go. I am so
glad to hear that you do not kill people, but surely us
Ashangos are afraid of you; but in a day's journey you
will reach the Njavi country."</p>
<p>Then the queen said, "I told you, my husband, that the
Oguizi did not kill people as the Ashangos kill monkeys.
Now don't you believe me?" said she, looking at the king
right in the face. Then, turning to me, she said, "Oguizi,
I am cooking a pot of <i>koa</i> (a root) for you and your men;
will you eat them?"</p>
<p>"Certainly," said I.</p>
<p>I had hardly uttered those words when there appeared
before us four warriors of a hostile village, who said they
would make war on the Mouaou-Kombo people if they
dared to take me through their village; that they did not
want me to pass that way.</p>
<p>Kombo, the chief, said to me, "Oguizi, go in your hut;
I do not want these people to see you," and he asked my
men to fire guns to frighten the warriors. Igala fired,
advancing toward the four warriors, who fled. I could
not help laughing. Other guns were fired, when I heard,
back of where the king and queen and myself were seated,
the report of another gun, and I was startled to see
the Mouaou villagers, with affrighted looks and shouts of
alarm, running away in every direction. The king and
queen got up, and fled along with the rest.</p>
<p>"Mamo! mamo!" was heard every where.</p>
<p>I got up, and, looking back in the direction where the
gun had been fired, I saw, not far from my hut, the lifeless
body of a leading Ashango man.</p>
<p>Igalo had done the deed. He rushed toward me and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
shouted, "I did not do it on purpose; the gun went off
before I had raised it."</p>
<p>Now, indeed, I might be sure that the Ashangos would
believe that the Oguizi could kill people as they did monkeys.</p>
<p>What was to be done? I was hundreds of miles away
from the sea.</p>
<p>I called the king back. "Do not be afraid," I said.</p>
<p>Kombo cried back to me, "You say you come here to
do no harm, and you do not kill people. Is not this the
dead body of a man?" and in an instant he was out of
sight.</p>
<p>Oh, how sorry I felt! but there was but little time for
melancholy reflections.</p>
<p>I shouted back, "Ashango people, I am very sorry.
What can I do? I will pay you the price of twenty men
for that man who has been killed."</p>
<p>In the mean time the war-drums began to beat furiously
in every part of this large village, and the warriors
came out by hundreds, armed with spears, bows and
poisoned arrows, battle-axes, and other murderous implements
of war.</p>
<p>My men held beads and goods in their hands, and
shouted, "Come, we will pay you for that man that has
been killed."</p>
<p>Then suddenly one of the elders, bolder than the rest,
shouted, "Let there be no war; let us have peace. The
Oguizi will pay for that man's life."</p>
<p>There was a lull. Some said, "Let us make war; let
us kill the people who have come with the Oguizi, for
they have come to kill us," while another party shouted,
"Let us have peace." The war-drums for a while ceased<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
to beat, and the horns calling the warriors from the forest
had ceased to blow.</p>
<p>There was a lull—just what I wanted. I knew it was
utterly impossible to make those people believe that that
man had been killed by accident. I might just as well
have tried to make them believe that a spear would go
through a man and kill him without being hurled by
another man.</p>
<p>That lull was precious time to me, though it was but
short. I encouraged my seven Commi men, who had
come close to me for advice. "Don't be afraid, boys," I
said. "We are men; we can fight. Not one of you will
be delivered to the Ashangos for this palaver. We will
fight our way back; get ready. Though they may be inclined
for peace, let us prepare for the worst, and woe to
our enemies if they want to fight." Then, turning toward
Igalo, I said to him reproachfully, though kindly,
"See what your carelessness has brought upon us."</p>
<p>In a very short time we had got out an additional supply
of ammunition, two hundred bullets extra for each
man, and six one-pound cans of powder. We could not
be taken unawares, for our guns had never left our hands,
and by the side of each man hung always a bag containing
one hundred bullets and two or three pounds of powder;
so you see we had ammunition enough to carry on
a desperate fight, and we were bound to sell our lives
dearly, but not before having exhausted every means of
conciliation.</p>
<p>Then, pointing to seven otaitais, I said, "Get ready to
put them on at an instant's notice." They contained my
precious things—photographs, scientific instruments, and
valuable notes.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p>
<p>We were ready for our retreat in case war should be
decided upon by the Ashangos.</p>
<p>The appearances were hopeful, and I began to think
that the palaver would be settled satisfactorily, when suddenly
a woman, whom afterward I recognized to be the
queen, came wailing and tearing her hair. Stripping off
her garment of grass-cloth, she rolled herself on the
ground before me, crying, "Oguizi, what have I done to
you? Why have you killed my sister? What had she
done to you? She gave you food—that is the harm she
has done you. Go and see her body behind the hut,"
and she wailed aloud. Then from afar the friendly
elder, who did not desire at first to make war, shouted,
"Why have you killed my wife, oh wicked Oguizi?"</p>
<p>The fatal bullet had gone through the man, and then
through a hut, killing the sister of the queen, who was
busy behind her dwelling.</p>
<p>As the sad news spread, a general shout for war arose
from the increasing multitude, and every man who had
not his spear or bow rushed for it, and those who had
them brandished them in sign of defiance. War was
declared—there was no help for it. Oh dear, what was
to be done? I had not come into that far country to
kill these savages, but then my men, who had left their
homes, their wives, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, children,
must not be killed—they trusted in me. What
shall we do? Is Paul Du Chaillu to run away from the
enemy? Shall these savages call him a coward? Such
thoughts made the blood rush to my head. I shall never
play the coward, but then there are many ways besides
fighting to show one's courage. My mind was made up;
so I girded my loins for the fight, sad at heart. First I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
thought I would set fire to the house where my baggage
was, but there was so much powder there—several hundred
pounds—that in exploding it more Ashangos would
be killed. We had shed the first blood; we must be
careful to shed no more without being obliged to do so,
and I offered a silent prayer to God to guide me in what
was to be done.</p>
<p>My seven Commi men stood by me, ready to start with
their otaitais on their backs. "Be not afraid, boys," said
I; "we are men."</p>
<p>We had to go through the whole length of the village
before we could reach the path by which we had come
to Mouaou-Kombo.</p>
<p>I shouted, "Ashangos, all the goods I have I give to
you for the people that have been killed. Now we go
away. We did not come here to make war; we did not
come here to kill people. We don't wish to kill you, so
do not compel us to do so."</p>
<p>My Commi boys were cool and steady, and, keeping a
firm line, we marched through the street of the village.
A rain of spears and of poisoned arrows came from behind
the huts, and showered all around us. I am wounded—a
sharp-pointed arrow pierces me. Then Igala, my
right-hand man, is wounded. "Don't fire, boys; let us
shed no more blood in this village if we can help it," I
said. "Press onward; do not be afraid. There is but
one God, the ruler of the universe; all will be for the
best."</p>
<p>We advance steadily, the crowd ahead of us in the
street brandishing their spears and sending arrows at us;
but they keep far away, while, with guns pointed toward
them, we continue to advance, Rebouka and Mouitchi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
looking around toward the huts, for our hidden enemies
were the ones we dreaded the most. Another shower of
spears and arrows fell in the midst of us. I look around—no
one is wounded; when, lo! Macondai is struck by
an arrow. The infuriated savages, shouting their terrific
war-cries, become bolder, and come nearer. Must more
blood be shed? And now Rebouka is wounded. Five
spears fall by me, and a perfect shower of them fly all
around.</p>
<p>Igala says, "Chally, do you think we are going to let
these savages wound you? A man in our country would
be put to death if he dared to raise his hand against you.
Don't you see our blood? May we not fire and kill some
of them?"</p>
<p>"Be patient, my boys. Remember we shed the first
blood. Wait a little while; perhaps they will desist.
They dare not come too near; when they do we will kill
them."</p>
<p>Oh dear, one of our dogs is killed—poor Andèko!
three spears go into him and lay him prostrate; he gives
a shriek of pain, and he is dead. Our other dogs are by
us. Commi-Nagoumba is in a great rage; he barks furiously
at the Ashangos; a spear has just wounded him
slightly on the back. Rover, Fierce, Turk, and Ndjègo
are ready to help us; we have trouble to keep them in
check. They are going to be useful in the forest—they
will discover the men in ambush. The Ashangos know
this, and they try to kill them. Just as we reach the end
of the village, Rover and Fierce are wounded, each receiving
an arrow in his body.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p080.png" width="450"
height="79" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2>
<p class="center">RETREAT FROM MOUAOU-KOMBO.—THE ATTACK.—PAUL IS
WOUNDED.—A PANIC.—THE FIGHT RENEWED.—THE ENEMY
RE-ENFORCED.—LYING IN AMBUSH.—THE ENEMY
REPULSED.—A POISONED ARROW.—MOUITCHI SAFE.—DEATH
OF THE DOGS.</p>
<p class="p2">W<span class="smcap">e</span> enter the great forest; we are going to leave the
village of Mouaou-Kombo forever. We are on the path
which we took on our way eastward. We are going back.
The forest near the village is filled with savages waiting
for us behind the trees.</p>
<p>We can only go single file. I give command. Igala
is to take the lead; then follow Rebouka, Rapelina, Ngoma,
Macondai, and Igalo, the cause of our trouble. I
guard the rear; the post of danger, of honor, must belong
to me, their chieftain, for I have sworn to them, and
their people when I left the sea-shore, to protect them.</p>
<p>All at once I remember Mouitchi. I do not see him.
He is not with us. "Mouitchi, where are you?" I cry.
"He is dead," replied the Ashangos. "He will never
come to you. We have killed him. You will never see
him again."</p>
<p>Before plunging into the forest we turn back and
shout, "Ashangos, we do not want war. We did not
come to your country to kill people. Beware! We leave
your village; do not follow us, for if you do there will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span>
be war." They answer by a fierce war-cry, and hundreds
of spears from afar are thrown at us as in defiance.</p>
<p>"Now," said I, "boys, no more mercy! blood for blood!
Fight valiantly, but kill no women, no old men, no children;
for remember, you are with a white man, and we
never make war on these. I would not dare to raise my
head in my country if I had killed women and children."</p>
<p>Three dogs are left. Poor Rover and Fierce have just
been killed. More than fifty spears had been thrown at
them. They fell bravely in our defense. The forest
was filled with armed Ashangos. When we got into the
path a large spear was thrown at me from behind a big
tree; Macondai saw the man. "Do not kill him," said
I; "he is an old man, and he is disarmed." He had no
other spear with him. At this moment a poisoned arrow
struck into me—a long, slender, bearded arrow, which
first pierced the leather belt that held my revolvers. I
had no time to take the arrow out; the fighting was too
terrific. Six savages all at once rushed upon Macondai
from behind a tree. Macondai fired at them, and I came
to the rescue. Bang, bang, bang from my revolvers, and
the miscreants troubled us no more. Igalo now received
a wound from a poisoned arrow, and we were almost surrounded.</p>
<p>My men quickened their speed. "Don't go so fast,"
I shouted from the rear; but they went on faster and
faster. The shouts of the savages became more violent,
and they were shooting at us from behind every tree.
My Commi ran as fast as they could. Igalo and I remained
behind. "Olome (men)," shouted I, "what are
you doing?" A panic seized them; they ran faster and
faster along the path, and I shouted in vain for them to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
stop. Wild shouts, and the tramp of scores of infuriated
men thirsting for blood, were heard close behind us, and
the Ashangos got bolder and bolder as they saw that we
quickened our steps. They began to realize that my
men were demoralized.</p>
<p>Just as I was raising my gun, an arrow cut the flesh
of my middle finger to the bone, severing the small artery,
and causing the blood to flow copiously on the path.
A little after I heard the Ashangos shout, "Ah! ah! we
see your blood on the track; you lose blood. Not one
of you shall see the sun set to-day. We are coming; all
the villages in front of you will fight you. You shall lie
dead like the man you killed. We will cut you to pieces."</p>
<p>I rushed ahead, shouting to my Commi men to stop.
Suddenly, as I advanced to overtake them, I see their
loads strewn on the ground along the path. They had
thrown down their baggage. It was now my turn to be
infuriated. I rushed ahead, revolver in hand, and shouted,
"I will shoot the first man of you that dares to move
a step." They stopped for sheer want of breath. My
breath was also almost taken away. I said, "Boys, what
have you done? You have run away from the Ashangos.
You have left me behind all alone to fight for you.
You are to be called by those savages cowards; they will
say that you do not know how to fight," and I looked Igala
and the other men boldly in the face, and shook my
head sorrowfully. "What have you done?" I added.
"Where are my photographs? where my note-books?
where my route maps? where are those mementos of
friends at home? where are my scientific instruments?
Gone, thrown away; the toils of years irrecoverably lost.
My boys, what have you done?"</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Fight"><img src="images/i_p289.png" width="450"
height="286" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
THE FIGHT WITH THE ASHANGOS.
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290"></a><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
The panic had lasted about ten minutes. Their flight
had been so hurried that we had left all the savages somewhat
in the rear. "Boys," said I, "think a little while,
and don't run away any more. Don't you see that the
Ashangos have the disadvantage? They are obliged to
stop every time they want to adjust an arrow and take
aim, and as for their spears they can not manage them
in the thick jungle, for they have not space enough. Besides,
we are often out of sight before they can deliver
their shot, and the only people we have to fear are those
who are waiting in ambush for us. Their bravest men
will think twice before they come to us at close quarters,
and if they do, have we not guns and revolvers? have we
not guns whose bullets will go through four or five men,
one after another? So be not afraid."</p>
<p>By the time I had finished this little speech, and had
just taken breath, the infuriated savages were again upon
us. Their hatred seemed to be now against Igala, whom
they called <i>malanga</i>, cursing him. They dodged about,
taking short cuts through the jungle, and surrounding us.
"You have tasted blood," they cried; "you are all dead
men. It is no use for you to try to fight."</p>
<p>My men by this time had recovered from their panic,
and sent back the Commi war-cry, and shouted, "Yogo
gou-nou (come here)! We are ready; come here; we
will make you taste death. Many of you will never go
back by the path you came;" and we stood still. "Well
done, boys!" I shouted. "Show the people what you can
do," and many Ashangos fell on the ground never to rise
again.</p>
<p>In a little while we came to a village from which the
people had fled. There I discovered the plan of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
Ashangos. They wanted to flank us, while some of them
were going forward to rouse the other villages ahead to
fight us. If they could succeed in flanking us, they
would soon finish us; if not, they could make all the
population ahead hostile to us on our way back. There
lay our great danger. If they succeeded in rousing the
population against us, it would be impossible for us to
escape. We could not keep fighting forever. I was already
beginning to feel very weak. We had had no
food since the day before, for the trouble came before
our breakfast. The poisonous arrows began to show the
effect of the poison in the blood, and I felt a raging thirst.
My men were very much frightened at this. The Commi
knew nothing of the poisoned missiles, but had heard
of the dreadful effects of poisonous wounds from the
slaves coming from the interior.</p>
<p>Poor Igala complained of great pain and great thirst.
"I shall die, Chally," said he; "I shall never see my
daughter again!"</p>
<p>"If God wills it, you shall not die, Igala," I said.</p>
<p>Let us get ready. The Ashangos are coming silently
this time; we hear their footsteps; they are in sight.
We hid at the extremity of the village, and I shouldered
my long-range rifle. The Ashango leader advanced, and
as he was adjusting his bow I fired. His right arm
dropped down broken and powerless by his side, and the
next man behind fell with a crash in the bush in the
midst of fallen leaves and branches. Rebouka fired, and
down came another man, and one by one my men kept
up the fire. The Ashangos had now received a momentary
check. The bravest among them had fallen in the
dust, and my men shouted to the Ashangos that fell, "You<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
will never return by the path you came." The panic was
over; my Commi men were ashamed to have acted as
they had done.</p>
<p>We jogged on now leisurely till we came to a rivulet.
I could not stand; I lay flat, and drank, and drank as
much as I could. How fervently I wished Mouitchi was
with us! Poor Mouitchi! where was he killed? His
body must have been hacked to pieces. Another dog
was missing; two only were left. They had been killed
for being our friends, and finding out our enemies behind
the trees.</p>
<p>The Ashangos began to learn how to fight us. We
had not gone far when suddenly they came again in
great numbers without uttering a war-cry. The path
was most difficult when we became aware of their appearance;
steep hill lay beyond steep hill; stream after
stream had to be crossed, and we increased our speed,
for we were to be under a disadvantage; but it was fortunate
that we knew the ground by having been over it
before. Suddenly a paralyzing thud, accompanied by a
sharp pain, told me that I had been struck from behind
my back or in flank by an unknown enemy. This time
it was in my side that I was wounded. We were just
going up a steep hill, and I turned to see my assailant.
Igalo, the poor good fellow, the unfortunate cause of our
woe, was by my side, and turned round also to see who
had launched the missile. Lo, what do we descry lying
flat on the ground among the dry leaves, still as death?
An Ashango, crouched as still as a snake in its coil, his
bright eyes flashing vindictively at me. Igalo, in the
twinkling of an eye, discharged his gun at him, and the
too-skillful bowman lay low, never to rise again. I could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
not help it—I felt sorry; I deplored that fight with my
whole heart from the beginning. This time I was wounded
badly. The arrow was bearded, small, and slender,
and had gone deeply into my stomach, and if the leather
belt which held my revolvers, and through which it
passed, had not weakened its force. I should have been
mortally wounded; but a kind Providence watched over
me, and, though another wound disabled that poor, tired,
worn-out body of mine, I did not grumble. I had reached
that state in which I did not care. The trouble was that
I had to go with that arrow in my body, for there was no
time to disengage it.</p>
<p>My men came around me, for they saw that the pain
had turned me deadly pale, and, though not a cry of anguish
was uttered by me (for I, their chief, must teach
them how to suffer), they saw that my strength was gradually
giving away.</p>
<p>How painful that little bit of bearded arrow was as
part of it lay inside, and the other part in the leather!</p>
<p>We were now near Mobana, and the Mouaou warriors,
and those that had been added to them, were still pursuing
us. Happily, we knew every hill and every stream.
We crossed the Bembo, a stream with which you were
made acquainted on our way east, and the ascent of the
steep hill on the other side was terrible. The Mouaou
warriors were shouting all the time, "Men of Mobana, do
not let the Oguizi pass! They have killed our people!"</p>
<p>Approaching Mobana, we could hear the war-drums
beating in the village, but fortunately the path led us by
the end of the street, and as we passed we saw the Mobanians
in battle array, and heard them sending fierce
war-cries at us.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p>
<p>The Mobanians made common cause with the Mouaou
people, and they were like a body of fresh troops coming
to the rescue—they were not tired. The situation was
becoming grave, especially if the people ahead of us were
also in sympathy with the Mouaou people.</p>
<p>We recognized the leading Mobana warrior, armed
with his bow and several quivers of arrows. Happily
they were at some distance from us, and I ordered my
men not to fire at them, thinking that perhaps when they
saw that we did not desire to make war they might remain
quiet in their village, and not pursue us.</p>
<p>We had no time to lose, for I knew that Mobana was
situated on the top of a very steep and high hill, and of
course I did not want to be taken in the rear by those
savages, and subjected to a plunging fire of spears and
arrows from their high elevation, from which they could
look down on us.</p>
<p>"Boys," said I, "let us go down this hill quickly, so
that we may reach the bottom and ascend the other before
they come; then we shall have a great advantage
over our enemies. We descended the hill, the multitude
of savages following us, shouting, "Ah! ah! you run
away! You do not know this forest; you shall never
leave it; we will kill you all; we will cut your bodies
to pieces!"</p>
<p>My blood was getting up. At last we reached the bottom
of the hill, and began to ascend the other by the
path. "Boys," said I, "don't you remember that there
is a big fallen tree near the path up this hill where the
jungle is very thick? We are getting weak; let us lay
in ambush there, and be as silent as if we were all dead,
and wait for the Ashangos."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p>
<p>After a while we came to the place I had spoken of,
and in the thick bushes just by the side of the path, not
far from the big fallen tree, I ordered Igala, Rapelina,
and Ngoma to lie down together. On the other side, in
a position which I thought would be a good one, I put
Igalo, Macondai, and Rebouka. I myself kept the centre,
facing the path, and could see tolerably well what
was going on around.</p>
<p>We lay almost flat on the ground, nearly hidden by the
underbrush, with our bags of bullets hanging in front, our
flasks of powder handy, and our cartridges ready. We
kept as silent as the grave, moving not a muscle, and
hardly daring to breathe, and waited for the slightest
rustling of the leaves as a warning that the Ashangos
were coming.</p>
<p>Hark! hark! we hear a very slight distant noise, which
seems as if an antelope or gazelle was passing through
the forest. We look at each other as if to say, "They
are coming." As by instinct we look at our guns and
our ammunition, and see that every thing is ready for
the fray. We were indeed desperate, for now we knew
it was a death-struggle—that we must either vanquish
the Ashangos or be killed by them.</p>
<p>The rustling in the midst of the leaves becomes more
distinct, and we glance rapidly in front of us, on the right
of us, on the left of us, and behind us.</p>
<p>We see the sharp-shooters forming the Ashango vanguard
advancing carefully, with their bows and arrows in
readiness. They came in almost a sitting posture. Now
and then the leaders would stop to wait for the men behind,
their fierce, savage faces looking all around at the
same time, and their ears erect to catch the slightest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span>
sound. Suddenly they stop, perhaps to listen and know
where we are. They look at each other as if to say, "We
don't hear any thing," or perhaps they mistrust the bush
ahead. Then I get a glimpse of the great Mobana warrior,
and also of one of the leading Mouaou warriors.
All at once they gave a cluck, the meaning of which I
could not tell. Perhaps it meant danger.</p>
<p>I had been looking intently for a minute at these savages,
when I cast a glance in the direction where Igala,
Rapelina, and Ngoma were. Igala was aiming with an
unerring and steady hand at the great Mobana warrior,
and Rapelina was aiming at the Mouaou warrior; whether
Ngoma was aiming at any one I could not see. It took
only one glance for me to see what was going on in that
direction. Then, turning in the other direction, I saw
that Macondai, Rebouka, and Igalo were getting ready;
they had also caught sight of some sly and silent enemy.
I shouldered my rifle also. Not twenty seconds had
passed after I had looked at Igala when I heard in his
direction, bang! bang! The great Mobana warrior was
shot through the abdomen, and uttered a cry of anguish,
while Rapelina had sent a bullet through the lower jaw
of the Mouaou warrior, smashing it completely. Ngoma
fired, but I could not see the man he fired at. All at
once, bang! bang! bang! I hear from Igalo, Macondai,
and Rebouka's side. Bang! bang! bang! three guns
from the other side. Bang! from my own gun.</p>
<p>"Well done, boys!" I cried. "Forward, and charge,
and let us show the Ashangos we are men." We rush
through the jungle in the direction from which the warriors
had come. They are surprised; their leading chiefs
are killed. Bang! bang! bang! from revolvers and guns;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span>
we are fighting like lions at bay. We are victorious; our
enemies fly in abject terror.</p>
<p>We shouted to the fleeing Ashangos cries of defiance:
"Come here! Come again; not one of you shall go back
to your villages. We are coming; we will kill you all
before night. You made war; we did not make it.
Come and look at your dead in the forest. Come and
fetch them if you dare! Tonight we are coming to
your villages, and will destroy them!"</p>
<p>The voices of the Ashangos became fainter and fainter,
and there were no more answers to our cries of defiance.</p>
<p>Some of us had been wounded again. As we came to
a little stream, my exhaustion was such that every thing
became dim before me; the trees of the forest seemed
to be moving, and finally I fell almost unconscious to the
ground. After a while I drank copiously of the refreshing
water of the stream, for the poisoned arrows had given
me an unquenchable thirst. The men drank also;
none of us seemed ever to be satisfied. A few minutes
after, and we drank again. Now we breathed more freely,
and rested a little while, keeping a sharp lookout,
however, at the same time. I examined the wounds of
Igala and the others, and said, "Igala, don't be afraid;
you are not going to die from the effects of the poisoned
arrow. I am going to put in your wound something that
will burn you, but do you good." It was ammonia. I
applied it, and he gave a piercing shriek.</p>
<p>The slender, small, sharp-pointed, bearded arrow had
remained in my body the whole of the day; two or three
times I tried in vain to pull it out, but it seemed to stick
fast in the flesh; so I took off the belt of my revolver,
and said to Igala, "Pull that arrow out for me." He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span>
tried gently, but it would not come. I said, "Pull it
with all your strength."</p>
<p>Oh how it pained! It was like a little fish-hook—a
little bit of a thing, but it so tore the flesh that I felt like
giving a cry of anguish. I became deadly pale, but did
not utter a word; I wanted to set an example of fortitude
to my men. Then I put ammonia in all my wounds and
those of my men, for I always carried a little bottle of it
to use in case of snake-bites. The blood had flowed
freely from my finger, and I was sorry to see that my
clothes were quite saturated, but the effusion of blood
had carried off the poison.</p>
<p>I found that the effect of the poison was to bring on
mortification of the flesh, and was not so dangerous as I
had been led to believe, though I was very sick a few
days after the fight.</p>
<p>After resting a while, and after equalizing our munitions
of war, we shouldered our empty otaitais. Just as
we were ready to start we heard again a rustling of
leaves. Are the Ashangos coming back? We are silent,
and look in the direction of the noise. We see a
man—our guns are directed toward him. I make a sign
not to fire, I do not know why—God directs me. Now
and then he hides himself—stops—watches—he is advancing,
not in the path, but a little way from it. The
man comes nearer; we see a gun in his hand—it is Mouitchi!
I am the first to recognize him. "Mouitchi!" I
shouted. "I am Mouitchi," the answer was. He rushes
toward us; he is safe; he is not even wounded, and with
tremulous voice I said, "Boys, God is with us; I thank
thee, Father." I could say no more, but this came from
the inmost depths of my heart.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p>
<p>Mouitchi's story was this: He had mistaken the path
in the panic, and finally had gone through the jungle and
followed us by the halloing of the fierce Ashangos, but
kept at a good distance from them. He heard them crying
out that the great warriors of Mobana and of Mouaou
were killed. They had fled in the utmost terror.</p>
<p>Poor Commi-Nagoumba was the only dog left; all the
others had been killed. If I could have collected their
bodies I would have dug a grave for them at the foot of
a big tree, and written on it the words,</p>
<p class="p2 center">HERE ARE BURIED</p>
<p class="p2 center">THE DOGS</p>
<p class="p2 center large">ANDÈKO, ROVER, FIERCE, TURK, and NDJÈGO.</p>
<p class="p2 center"><i>They were faithful unto death.</i></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p120.png" width="175"
height="173" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p173.png" width="400"
height="87" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX.</h2>
<p class="center">TRAVELING WESTWARD.—A NIGHT IN THE FOREST.—PAUL'S
SPEECH TO HIS MEN.—THEIR REPLY.—THE RETREAT RESUMED.—TAKING
FOOD AND REST.—MEETING WITH
FRIENDS.</p>
<p class="p2">T<span class="smcap">his</span> meeting with Mouitchi revived for a while my
failing strength. I saw in his safety the decree of a kind
Providence. My warriors were by me; though wounded,
none of us had been killed.</p>
<p>We continued our journey westward. The forest had
resumed its accustomed stillness, undisturbed by the savage
war-cries of the infuriated Ashangos. I felt so weak
that it was with great difficulty I could walk. I had been
obliged to get rid of my splendid formidable double-barreled
breach-loading rifle by breaking the butt-end and
throwing the barrel into the woods. I had tried as hard
as I could to carry two guns, but at last I had to give up.
Now I had only a smooth-bore to carry.</p>
<p>A little after we had resumed our march, as we walked
silently in the forest, we met suddenly two Mobana women.
Igala at once was going to shoot them; I forbid him
doing it. Poor Igala said he did not like this way of
making war; he said it was not the white man's country,
and we ought not to fight in the white man's fashion.
He was for shooting every Ashango he saw; and, pointing
to our wounds, he said, "Don't you think they would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>
have killed all of us if they had been able?" I answered,
"Never mind, Igala; they will tell their people that, after
all, we did not want to kill every body."</p>
<p>Poor women! they really thought they were going to
be murdered, but they had no idea of what had taken
place.</p>
<p>We went on, though I was becoming weaker and weaker.
A high fever had set in, and my thirst continued to
be intense; at the sight of a stream I thought I could
drink the whole of the water. My men were pretty
nearly in the same condition as myself.</p>
<p>Thus we traveled on till near sunset, when at last I
said, "Boys, I can not go any farther; I can not walk, I
am so weak, so weary, so ill. There is that big village
of Niembouai-Olomba near us; we are all too tired to go
through it and fight our way if the people want to fight
us. It will soon be dark; let us leave the path, and go
into the forest and rest. At midnight, when the people
are asleep, we will go through the village, and continue
our way toward the sea."</p>
<p>"You are right," said the men. "You are our chief;
we will do as you say."</p>
<p>We left the path and plunged into the woods, and after
a while we halted in one of the thickest parts of the forest,
where no one could see us but that good and merciful
God whose eye was upon us in that day of our great trials,
and who had given us strength to contend with our
enemies. We were hidden from the sight of man, and
hundreds of miles away from the Commi country—I was
thousands of miles away from my own. It was, indeed, a
day of tribulation. The men were afraid to light a fire,
for fear that it might betray our hiding-place. We did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span>
not even dare to speak aloud; we were almost startled at
the rustling of the leaves, for we knew not but that it
might be the enemy. Our pride had left us with our
strength. We were helpless, wounded, weak, hungry;
the future before us was dark and gloomy. What a picture
of despondency we presented!</p>
<p>After a while we lay on the ground to sleep, muzzling
our only dog, that he should not betray our hiding-place.
Darkness came on, and the silence of the night was only
broken by the mournful cry of a solitary owl that came
to perch near us. In a little time my exhausted men
thought not of leopards, or poisonous snakes, or hostile
savages, in the deep slumber that enwrapped them. Igala
alone now and then moaned from pain. The night air
was misty and cold. As I lay awake on the damp
ground, an intense feeling of sadness came over me.
There was I, far from home. I thought of our northern
climes, of spring, of summer, of autumn, of winter, of
flakes of snow, of a happy home, of girls and boys, of
friends, of schoolmates. I knew that if any of them
could have been made aware of my forlorn condition
they would have felt the tenderest sympathy with me in
my misfortunes, and I thought if I could see them once
more before dying I should die happy.</p>
<p>Hours passed by, and at last I thought it must be time
to start. I took a match from my match-box, and lighted
a wax candle (I always kept one in my bag), and
looked at my watch. It was just midnight. We lay in
a cluster, and I awoke my men in a moment. "Boys,"
said I, "it is time for us to start, for the hours of the
night are passing away; the people of the village must
have retired. Two of you must go as scouts, and see if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span>
the people of Niembouai-Olomba are asleep." Mouitchi
and Igala at once started. "Be as cunning," said I, "as
leopards, and noiseless as snakes."</p>
<p>After a while they came back, telling us that every
body was asleep in the village of Niembouai-Olomba,
and that we had better start immediately, "for," said
they, "the first sleep is the deepest."</p>
<p>Then, calling my boys around me, I gave them what I
thought might be my last words of admonition. With
dead silence they waited for what I was going to say:</p>
<p>"Little did we know, boys, at sunrise this morning,
what would happen to us to-day. Men can not look into
the future. I was leading you carefully across that big
country of the black man toward the land of the white
man. I did not defeat the journey—one of you has done
it. Poor Igalo is sorry for it, but no one is more sorry
than I am, for I had set my heart on taking you by the
okili mpolo. I was leading you on well to the white
man's country. Now all hope of this is over. We are
poor; every thing we had has been left behind, and we
have nothing else to do but go back to the sea, following
the road by which we came.</p>
<p>"In a little while we shall start. I have called you
around me to give you advice, for I am ill and weary,
and if there is much fighting to be done I am afraid I
shall not have the strength to take part in it. If perchance
you see me fall on the ground, do not try to raise
me up; let me alone; don't be frightened. Stand close
together; do not run, each man his own way. You have
guns; you can reach the Commi country if you are wise
as serpents, and then you will behold the beautiful blue
sea and your Commi country once more.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p>
<p>"I have kept my word with your people. I have stood
by you to the last. My boys, I have fought for you as
resolutely as I could, but the time may be at hand when
I shall be able to fight no more. I may be killed to-night,
as I have said to you, or I may not be strong
enough to raise my gun. Whatever happens, remain together;
listen to Igala, your chief.</p>
<p>"We have lost nearly every thing, but these books (my
journal), in which I have written down all we have done,
are yet safe. If I fall, take them with you to the sea,
and when a vessel comes, give them to the captain, and
tell him 'Chally, Chally, our friend, the great friend of
the Commi, is dead. He died far away, calmly, without
fear, and he told us to give these to the white man.'<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>
Take also the watch I carry on my person, and that little
box, which contains four other watches, aneroids, and
compass, and give them to the captain. All the other
things and the guns I give you to remember me by. You
will give a gun to Quengueza, and a gun to Ranpano."</p>
<p>My men crept close around me as I spoke. I had
hardly spoken the last words when they stretched their
arms toward me, and these lion-hearted negroes wept
aloud, and, with voices full of love and kindness, said,
"Chally, Chally, you are not to die. We will take you
alive to our people. No, no; we will all go back to the
sea-shore together. You shall see the deep blue ocean,
and a vessel will come and carry you back home. Do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span>
you think that, even if you were killed, we would leave
your body here? No; we would carry it with us, and
tarry somewhere and bury you where nobody could find
you, for we do not want the people to cut off your head
for the alumba. Chally, Chally, you are not to die."</p>
<p>"Boys," I answered, in a laughing tone, in order to
cheer them up, "I did not say I expected to die to-night,
only that I might die. You know that Chally is not
afraid of death, and many and many times he has told
you that men could kill the body, but could not kill the
spirit. Don't you know that Chally knows how to fight?
We are men. If I have talked to you as I have, it is because
I want to prepare you for the worst. Be of good
cheer, and now let us get ready."</p>
<p>We got up and girded our loins for the fight, and
swore, if necessary, to die like brave men. We examined
our guns by the light of the candle, and refilled our
flasks with powder, and replaced our cartridges and bullets.
Ncommi-Nagoumba, our last dog, was looking at
us. He seemed to understand the danger, and to say,
"Don't kill me; I will not bark." I looked at him and
said, "Ncommi-Nagoumba, don't bark. You have been
our friend. You discovered many of our enemies behind
the trees ready to spear us, and you have warned us of
our danger. Our friends, the other dogs, have been
killed; you alone now stand by us, but we are not ungrateful,
and we shall not kill you, Ncommi-Nagoumba.
Don't bark, don't bark," I said to the dog, looking earnestly
at him.</p>
<p>Then, shouldering our bundles and guns, we struggled
through the entangled thicket, tearing ourselves with
thorns, into the path, and at last came to the village<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span>
street. We here paused, and called to each other in a
low tone of voice, to make sure that no one was left behind,
for it was so intensely dark that we could not see a
yard before us. It was necessary to guard against any
possible ambush. We then stepped forward like desperate
men, resolved to fight for our lives to the last, and,
entering the village, took the middle of the street, our
feet hardly touching the ground. Igala carried Ncommi-Nagoumba
in his arms, for we were afraid that, if suffered
to run loose, he might possibly bark. I shall never
forget that night. We threaded the long street cautiously,
with our guns cocked, and ready at the slightest warning
to defend ourselves. Onward we went, our hearts beating
loudly in our terrible suspense, for we feared a surprise
at any moment. Now and then we could hear the
people talking in their huts, and at such times we would
carefully cross to the other side of the street. At one
house we heard the people playing the wombi (native
harp) indoors, and again we crossed lightly to the other
side, and passed on without having alarmed the inmates.
Then we came to an ouandja where three men were lying
by the side of a fire stretched out on their mats, smoking
their pipes, and talking aloud. I was afraid Ncommi-Nagoumba
would bark at them, but we passed without
being detected. It was no wonder that we were afraid
of every body, for we were so weak and helpless. Thus
we continued our march through that long street, and it
seemed as if we should never reach the end of it.</p>
<p>At last we came to the farthest confine of the village,
rejoicing that we had so successfully avoided creating
an alarm, when all at once a bonfire blazed up before us!
As we stood motionless, waiting for the next move, a kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span>
voice spoke out from the darkness, "It is the Oguizi people.
Go on; you will find the path smooth. There is
no more war for you." It was the voice of the old king
of Niembouai-Olomba. But, being not sure that some
treachery was not intended, we passed on without saying
a word in reply to the kind speech of the chief. As it
proved, however, instead of a death-struggle we had
found friends.</p>
<p>On we went in the darkness of the night, losing the
path at times, and finding it again; in swamps and water-courses,
over stony hills, and through thorny brakes.
Finally, at three o'clock, we came to a field of cassava.
Here we halted, made a fire, gathered some of the roots,
and, having roasted them, ate of them plentifully. This
food renewed our strength. We had been more than
thirty-three hours without a particle of nourishment.</p>
<p>Then, after I had taken my meal, I thought it would
be better to burn some of my clothes which were saturated
with blood, so that the natives might not suspect that I
had been wounded, for they all thought I was a spirit,
and consequently invulnerable to the implements of war.
So we lighted a larger fire, and the blood-stained clothes
were burned. After this I laid down to rest a little, but
not before I had offered a silent thanksgiving to that gracious
Providence who had so marvelously preserved my
little band of followers and myself.</p>
<p>We rested for the remainder of the night on the hard
ground, and at daylight continued our march, but mistook
the path, and finally came to a plantation belonging
to an old man, the next in authority to the king of
Niembouai-Olomba. By that time it was midday. He
had heard of our fight a short time before. We were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309"></a><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310"></a><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span>
received kindly by the old man, and, after we had partaken
of the food his people had cooked for us, my men
gave him an account of our deadly encounter with the
Ashangos.</p>
<div class="figcentern6"><a name="Darkness"><img src="images/i_p309.png" width="450"
height="288" alt="" title="" /></a>
<div class="caption">
FRIENDS IN THE DARKNESS.
</div></div>
<p>Then the old man said, "What an Oguizi you have
had with you! It is no wonder that none of you were
killed, for I have heard by the messenger that brought
the news that sometimes he would hide and change himself
into an elephant, and charge the Ashangos, and throw
fire from his trunk, and would then become a man again.
At other times we hear that the Oguizi turned himself
into a leopard, and as the sharp-shooters came after you
he pounced upon them from the branches of the trees,
and that when tired of being a leopard he would transform
himself into a gorilla, and roar till the trees of the
forest shook and toppled down upon your enemies. The
Mouaou-Kombo and Mobana people sent us word that
we must fight you, but their quarrels are not ours. We
are your friends."</p>
<p>But there was no time to be lost on the way, and after
a little talk we bade good-by to our kind host, and once
more directed our steps toward the setting sun.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p152.png" width="100"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312"></a></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p041.png" width="450"
height="100" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<h2 id="CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX.</h2>
<p class="center">CONCLUSION.—RETURN TO THE COAST.—DESOLATION OF THE
COUNTRY.—FATE OF OLD FRIENDS.—REACH THE SETTLEMENT.—DEPARTURE
FOR ENGLAND.—AU REVOIR.</p>
<p class="p2">I <span class="smcap">need</span> not recount to you our journey back, only that
there was no more fighting, and that we returned by exactly
the same road we had taken going eastward, reached
the same villages, and were received every where with
great kindness by the different tribes and their chiefs,
who seemed all so glad to see us. Kombila, Nchiengain,
Mayolo, begged me to come back again. But, when we
reached the Ashira country, I did not go to see Olenda's
people, nor did we stop at any village belonging to his
clan, but went and tarried at Angouka's village, where
we were hospitably welcomed, his people saying, "Why
did not Quengueza bring you to us instead of taking you
to Olenda?" Then we glided down the now placid waters
of the Ovenga and the Rembo.</p>
<p>From the Ashira country to the sea-shore a picture of
desolation every where met our eyes. The poor Bakalais
seemed to have suffered heavily from the plague;
many of their villages were silent, and as we entered
them nothing but grim skeletons was presented to our
view. Obindji, Malaouen, and my hunters were all dead;
three men only were left of the Obindji village.</p>
<p>But when I reached Goumbi the havoc made by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>
plague seemed the most terrible of all. Every one of
the nephews of the king who had gone to the Ashira
country with us was dead; all my friends were dead. I
felt the sincerest compassion for poor Quengueza: Goumbi
had been abandoned, and all his warriors, his slaves,
his wives, his family, his children, had been taken from
him.</p>
<p>This plague had been a fearful visitation, and hundreds
of thousands of people must have been carried off
by it.</p>
<p>Finally I reached my settlement on the River Commi,
and on my way there I missed many faces; but I was
rejoiced that friend Ranpano's life had been spared.
How glad the good old chief was to see me! He gave
me back the shirt I had given him on my departure.
"I knew you would not die," said the old chief.</p>
<p>We had all returned safely but one—Retonda. Many
of those who had said of us when we started upon our
journey, "We shall see them no more; they are going
into the jaws of the leopards; they are courting death,"
were no more. The plague, which had spared us, had
swept them away.</p>
<p>I had gone safely through pestilence, fire, famine, and
war, and when I looked at the sea once more my heart
rose in gratitude to that God who had so marvelously
watched over me, the humble traveler in Equatorial Africa.</p>
<p>I found at the mouth of the river an English trading-vessel
ready to start for London. The name of the vessel
was the Maranee, Captain Pitts, and six days after my
arrival on the coast, at the close of the year 1866, I sailed
for England.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span></p>
<p>And thus I left the shores of Equatorial Africa, followed
to the beach with the blessings and good wishes
of its inhabitants.</p>
<p>Since that time years have gone by, but I think often
of the fierce encounters I have had with the wild beasts
in that far-off country; of our camp-fires; of the Dwarfs;
of dear, good Quengueza; of my hunters, Aboko, Niamkala,
and Fasiko; of Malaouen, Querlaouen, Gambo; of
friend Obindji, the Bakalai chief of Mayolo; of Ndiayai,
the king of the Cannibals; of Remandji; of my brave
boys, Igala, Rebouka, Mouitchi, Ngoma, Rapelina, Igalo,
and dear Macondai, and of other friends, and I hope that
I may meet them again in the Spirit Land.</p>
<p>And now, my dear young friends, let us bid forever
adieu to the regions of Equatorial Africa, whither I have
taken you in imagination, and concerning which I have
given you a faithful record of what I did, saw, and heard
there.</p>
<p>I think we have had some pleasant hours together, and,
at the same time, I hope that your knowledge of that unknown
part of the world has been enlarged by the reading
of the volumes I have specially written for your
benefit.</p>
<p>Let us always be friends, and when I travel again in
distant lands I shall not fail to tell you what I have seen
in my journeyings.</p>
<p>Norway, Sweden, and Lapland are the countries where
I am going to take you next. Meanwhile I say good-by.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/i_p314.png" width="200"
height="68" alt="" title="" />
</div>
<div class="footnotes"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2>
<div class="footnote">
<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Explorations in Equatorial Africa.</p>
<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> See <a href="#front">Frontispiece.</a></p>
<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> See chapter on "The Sorrows of Birds," in "Wild Life under the
Equator."</p>
<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> On the first page of each journal I had written, "Copy of Du Chaillu's
African Journal. Should death overtake me, and should these my
journals find their way to a civilized country, it is my wish that Messrs.
John Murray, of London, and Harper & Brothers, of New York, shall publish
an account of my journey, if they feel inclined to do so.</p>
<p class="right">"<span class="smcap">P. B. Du Chaillu.</span>"</p>
</div></div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1a" id="Page_1a"></a></span></p>
<h2>INTERESTING BOOKS
FOR THE YOUNG.</h2>
<p><span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span> <i>will send away any of the following works by mail, postage
prepaid, to any part of the United States, on receipt of the price</i>.</p>
<p>DU CHAILLU'S COUNTRY OF THE DWARFS. The Country
of the Dwarfs. By <span class="smcap">Paul B. Du Chaillu</span>. Illustrated.
12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>DU CHAILLU'S APINGI KINGDOM. My Apingi Kingdom:
with Life in the Great Sahara, and Sketches of the Chase of the
Ostrich, Hyena, &c. By <span class="smcap">Paul B. Du Chaillu</span>. Illustrated.
12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>DU CHAILLU'S LOST IN THE JUNGLE. Lost in the Jungle.
By <span class="smcap">Paul B. Du Chaillu</span>. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>DU CHAILLU'S WILD LIFE UNDER THE EQUATOR.
Wild Life Under the Equator. By <span class="smcap">Paul B. Du Chaillu</span>. Illustrated.
12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>DU CHAILLU'S GORILLA COUNTRY. Stories of the Gorilla
Country. By <span class="smcap">Paul B. Du Chaillu</span>. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth,
$1.75.</p>
<p>ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG NATURALIST. By <span class="smcap">Lucien
Biart</span>. Edited and Adapted by <span class="smcap">Parker Gillmore</span>. With 117
Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>PUSS-CAT MEW, and other New Fairy Stories for my Children.
By <span class="smcap">E. H. Knatchbull-Hugessen</span>. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth,
$1.25.</p>
<p>LABOULAYE'S FAIRY BOOK. Fairy Tales of all Nations.
By <span class="smcap">Edouard Laboulaye</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary L. Booth</span>.
Elegantly Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $2.00; gilt, $2.50.</p>
<p>MACÉ'S FAIRY TALES. Home Fairy Tales (<i>Contes du Petit
Château</i>). By <span class="smcap">Jean Macé</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Mary L. Booth</span>.
With Engravings. 12mo, Cloth, Beveled Edges, $1.75; gilt,
$2.25.</p>
<p>MISS MULOCK'S FAIRY BOOK. The best Popular Fairy Stories
selected and rendered anew. Engravings. 16mo, Cloth, $1.50;
gilt, $2.00.</p>
<p>FAIRY BOOK ILLUSTRATED. Containing Twelve New Stories,
expressly Translated for this Work. With 81 fine Engravings
by <span class="smcap">Adams</span>. 16mo, Cloth, $1.50; gilt, $2.00.</p>
<p>BOURNE'S LONDON MERCHANTS. Famous London Merchants.
A Book for Boys. By <span class="smcap">H. R. Fox Bourne</span>. With
Portrait of George Peabody and 24 Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth,
$1.00.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2a" id="Page_2a">[2]</a></span>
ABBOTT'S SCIENCE FOR THE YOUNG. Science for the
Young. By <span class="smcap">Jacob Abbott</span>.</p>
<p class="i2">HEAT. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.<br />
LIGHT. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.<br />
WATER AND LAND. Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S ROMANCE OF SPANISH HISTORY. The Romance
of Spanish History. By <span class="smcap">John S. C. Abbott</span>. With Illustrations.
12mo, Cloth, $2.00.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S FRANCONIA STORIES. Illustrations. Complete
in 10 vols., 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents each. The volumes may be
obtained separately; or complete, in neat case, $9.00:</p>
<p class="i2">Malleville.—Mary Bell.—Ellen Linn.—Wallace.—Beechnut.—Stuyvesant.—Agnes.—Mary
Erskine.—Rodolphus.—Caroline.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S LITTLE LEARNER SERIES. Harper's Picture-Books
for the Nursery. Illustrated. In 5 vols., 90 cents each.
The volumes complete in themselves, and sold separately; or the
Set complete, in case, for $4.50:</p>
<p class="i2">Learning to Talk.—Learning to Think.—Learning to Read.—Learning
about Common Things.—Learning about Right and
Wrong.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S MARCO PAUL'S VOYAGES AND TRAVELS
IN THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE. Illustrated. Complete
in 6 vols., 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents each. The Volumes may
be obtained separately; or complete, in neat case, for $5.40:</p>
<p class="i2">In New York.—On the Erie Canal.—In the Forests of Maine.—In
Vermont.—In Boston.—At the Springfield Armory.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S STORIES OF RAINBOW AND LUCKY. Illustrated.
5 vols., 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents per vol. The volumes
may be obtained separately; or complete, in neat case, for $4.50:</p>
<p class="i2">Hardie.—Rainbow's Journey.—Selling Lucky.—Up the River.—The
Three Pines.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORIES. Illustrated with
numerous Engravings. 16mo, Cloth, $1.20 per vol. The volumes
may be obtained separately; or the Set complete, in box,
for $38 40:</p>
<p class="i2">Cyrus the Great.—Darius the Great.—Xerxes.—Alexander the
Great.—Romulus.—Hannibal.—Pyrrhus.—Julius Cæsar.—Cleopatra.—Nero.—Alfred
the Great.—William the Conqueror.—Richard
I.—Richard II.—Richard III.—Mary Queen of
Scots.—Queen Elizabeth.—Charles I.—Charles II.—Josephine.—Marie
Antoinette.—Madame Roland.—Henry IV.—Margaret
of Anjou.—Peter the Great.—Genghis Khan.—King
Philip.—Hernando Cortez.—Joseph Bonaparte.—Queen Hortense.—Louis
XIV.—Louis Philippe.</p>
<p>ABBOTT'S YOUNG CHRISTIAN SERIES. Engravings. The
volumes sold separately. 4 vols., 12mo, Cloth, $1.75 each:</p>
<p class="i2">The Young Christian.—The Corner-Stone.—The Way to do
Good.—Hoaryhead and M'Donner.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3a" id="Page_3a">[3]</a></span></p>
<p>BOOKS FOR GIRLS. Written or Edited by the Author of "John
Halifax."</p>
<p class="i2">LITTLE SUNSHINE'S HOLIDAY. By the Author of
"John Halifax." Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents.</p>
<p class="i2">THE COUSIN FROM INDIA. By <span class="smcap">Georgiana M. Craik</span>.
Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents.</p>
<p>AIKIN'S EVENINGS AT HOME; or, The Juvenile Budget
Opened. By Dr. <span class="smcap">Aikin</span> and Mrs. <span class="smcap">Barbauld</span>. With 34 Engravings
by <span class="smcap">Adams</span>. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By <span class="smcap">Charles Dickens</span>.
2 vols., 16mo, Cloth, $2.00.</p>
<p>A CHILD'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES. By <span class="smcap">John
Bonner</span>. 3 vols., 16mo, Cloth, $3.75.</p>
<p>A CHILD'S HISTORY OF ROME. By <span class="smcap">John Bonner</span>. With
Illustrations. 2 vols., 16mo, Cloth, $2.50.</p>
<p>A CHILD'S HISTORY OF GREECE. By <span class="smcap">John Bonner</span>. With
Illustrations. 2 vols., 16mo, Cloth, $2.50.</p>
<p>BAKER'S CAST UP BY THE SEA. Cast Up by the Sea. A
Book for Young People. By Sir <span class="smcap">Samuel Baker</span>. With numerous
Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>MUTINY OF THE BOUNTY. By Lady <span class="smcap">Belcher</span>. Illustrated.
12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>EDGAR'S BOYHOOD OF GREAT MEN. With Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, $1.20.</p>
<p>EDGAR'S FOOTPRINTS OF FAMOUS MEN. With Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, $1.20.</p>
<p>EDGAR'S HISTORY FOR BOYS; or, Annals of the Nations
of Modern Europe. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1.20.</p>
<p>EDGAR'S SEA-KINGS AND NAVAL HEROES. A Book for
Boys. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1.20.</p>
<p>EDGAR'S WARS OF THE ROSES. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth,
$1.20.</p>
<p>REID'S ODD PEOPLE. Being a Popular Description of Singular
Races of Men. By Captain <span class="smcap">Mayne Reid</span>. Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>MISS MULOCK'S OUR YEAR. A Child's Book in Prose and
Verse. Illustrated by <span class="smcap">Clarence Dobell</span>. 16mo, Cloth, Gilt
Edges, $1.00.</p>
<p>CHILDREN'S PICTURE-BOOKS. Square 4to, about 300 pages
each, beautifully printed on Tinted Paper, with many Illustrations
by <span class="smcap">Weir</span>, <span class="smcap">Steinle</span>, <span class="smcap">Overbeck</span>, <span class="smcap">Veit</span>, <span class="smcap">Schnorr</span>, <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>,
and others. Bound in Cloth, Gilt, $1.50 a volume; or the Series
complete, in neat case, $7.50:</p>
<p class="i2">The Children's Bible Picture-Book.—The Children's Picture
Fable-Book.—The Children's Picture-Book of Quadrupeds and
other Mammalia.—The Children's Picture-Book of the Sagacity
of Animals.—The Children's Picture-Book of Birds.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4a" id="Page_4a">[4]</a></span>
HARPER'S BOYS' AND GIRLS' LIBRARY. 32 Volumes.
Engravings. 18mo, Cloth. Sold separately at 75 cts. a volume:</p>
<p class="i2">Lives of the Apostles and Early Martyrs.—The Swiss Family
Robinson, 2 vols.—Sunday Evenings, comprising Scripture
Stories, 3 vols.—Mrs. Hofland's Son of a Genius.—Thatcher's
Indian Traits, 2 vols.—Thatcher's Tales of the American Revolution.—Miss
Eliza Robins's Tales from American History, 3
vols.—Mrs. Hofland's Young Crusoe; or, The Shipwrecked
Boy.—Perils of the Sea.—Lives of Distinguished Females.—Mrs.
Phelps's Caroline Westerley.—Mrs. Hughs's Ornaments
Discovered.—The Clergyman's Orphan; the Infidel Reclaimed.—Uncle
Philips Natural History.—Uncle Philip's Evidences
of Christianity.—Uncle Philip's History of Virginia.—Uncle
Philip's American Forest.—Uncle Philip's History of New
York, 2 vols.—Uncle Philip's Whale Fishery and the Polar
Sea, 2 vols.—Uncle Philip's History of the Lost Colonies of
Greenland.—Uncle Philip's History of Massachusetts, 2 vols.—Uncle
Philip's History of New Hampshire, 2 vols.</p>
<p>HARPER'S STORY BOOKS. Narratives, Biographies, and Tales
for the Young. By <span class="smcap">Jacob Abbott</span>. With more than 1000
beautiful Engravings.</p>
<p>"H<span class="smcap">arper's Story Books</span>" can be obtained complete in
Twelve Volumes, each one containing Three Stories, at the price
of $21 00; or in Thirty-six Thin Volumes, each containing One
Story, at the price of $32 40. The volumes sold separately, the
large ones at $1.75 each, the others at 90 cents each.</p>
<table class="i2" border="0" cellpadding="5" cellspacing="0" summary="books">
<tr>
<td class="tdc">Volume</td>
<td class="tdl">I.—Bruno; Willie and the Mortgage; The Strait Gate.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">II.—The Little Louvre; Prank; Emma.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">III.—Virginia; Timboo and Joliba; Timboo and Fanny.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">IV.—The Harper Establishment; Franklin; The Studio.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">V.—The Story of Ancient History; The Story of English
History; The Story of American History.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">VI.—John True; Elfred; The Museum.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">VII.—The Engineer; Rambles among the Alps; The Three Gold Dollars.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">VIII.—The Gibraltar Gallery; The Alcove; Dialogues.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">IX.—The Great Elm; Aunt Margaret; Vernon.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">X.—Carl and Jocko; Lapstone; Orkney the Peace-maker.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">XI.—Judge Justin; Minigo; Jasper.</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td class="tdc">"</td>
<td class="tdl">XII.—Congo; Viola; Little Paul.</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>Some of the Story Books are written particularly for Girls,
and some for Boys; and the different volumes are adapted to
various ages, so that the Series forms a complete Library of Story
Books for Children of the Family and the Sunday-School.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5a" id="Page_5a">[5]</a></span>
HARPER'S FIRESIDE LIBRARY: expressly adapted to the
Domestic Circle, Sunday-Schools, &c. Cloth, 75 cents each:</p>
<p class="i2">Alden's Alice Gordon.—Alden's Lawyer's Daughter.—Alden's
Young Schoolmistress.—Burdett's Arthur Martin.—The Dying
Robin.—Ellen Herbert; or, Family Changes.—Mayhew's Good
Genius that turned every thing into Gold.—William the Cottager.—Mayhew's
Magic of Kindness.</p>
<p>MAYHEW'S BOYHOOD OF MARTIN LUTHER; or, The
Sufferings of the Little Beggar-Boy who afterward became the
Great German Reformer. Beautifully Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth,
$1.25.</p>
<p>MAYHEW'S PEASANT-BOY PHILOSOPHER. The Story of
the Peasant-Boy Philosopher; or, "A Child Gathering Pebbles
on the Sea-Shore." (Founded on the Early Life of Ferguson,
the Shepherd-Boy Astronomer, and intended to show how a Poor
Lad became acquainted with the Principles of Natural Science.)
Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1.25.</p>
<p>MAYHEW'S WONDERS OF SCIENCE; or, Young Humphrey
Davy (the Cornish Apothecary's Boy, who taught himself Natural
Philosophy, and eventually became President of the Royal
Society). The Life of a Wonderful Boy written for Boys. Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, $1.25.</p>
<p>MAYHEW'S YOUNG BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; or, the Right
Road through Life. A Story to show how Young Benjamin
Learned the Principles which Raised him from a Printer's Boy to
the First Embassador of the American Republic. A Boy's Book
on a Boy's own Subject. With Illustrations by <span class="smcap">John Gilbert</span>.
16mo, Cloth, $1.25.</p>
<p>FOLKS AND FAIRIES. Stories for Little Children. By <span class="smcap">Lucy
Randall Comfort</span>. Illustrated. Square 4to, Cloth, $1.00.</p>
<p>MRS. MORTIMER'S READING WITHOUT TEARS; or, A
Pleasant Mode of Learning to Read. Beautifully Illustrated.
Small 4to, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>MRS. MORTIMER'S LINES LEFT OUT; or, Some of the Histories
left out in "Line upon Line." With Illustrations. 16mo,
Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>MRS. MORTIMER'S MORE ABOUT JESUS. With Illustrations
and a Map. 16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>MRS. MORTIMER'S STREAKS OF LIGHT; or, Fifty-two
Facts from the Bible for Fifty-two Sundays of the Year. Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>HARRY'S LADDER TO LEARNING. With 250 Illustrations.
Square 4to, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>HARRY'S SUMMER IN ASHCROFT. Illustrations. Square
4to, Cloth, 75 cents.</p>
<p>KINGSTON'S FRED MARKHAM IN RUSSIA; or, The Boy
Travelers in the Land of the Czar. By <span class="smcap">W. H. G. Kingston</span>.
Illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, Gilt, 75 cents.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6a" id="Page_6a">[6]</a></span></p>
<p>THE ADVENTURES OF REUBEN DAVIDGER, Seventeen
Years and Four Months Captive among the Dyaks of Borneo.
By <span class="smcap">James Greenwood</span>. With Engravings. 8vo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>WILD SPORTS OF THE WORLD: A Book of Natural History
and Adventure. By <span class="smcap">James Greenwood</span>, Author of "The True
History of a Little Ragamuffin," "The Seven Curses of London,"
&c. With 147 Illustrations. Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2.50.</p>
<p>SELF-MADE MEN. By <span class="smcap">Charles C. B. Seymour</span>. Many Portraits.
12mo, 588 pages, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>SMILES'S SELF-HELP; with Illustrations of Character and Conduct.
By <span class="smcap">Samuel Smiles</span>. 12mo, Cloth, $1.00.</p>
<p>SMILES'S CHARACTER. By <span class="smcap">Samuel Smiles</span>. 12mo, Cloth,
$1.25.</p>
<p>ROUND THE WORLD; Including a Residence in Victoria, and
a Journey by Rail across North America. By a Boy. Edited
by <span class="smcap">Samuel Smiles</span>. Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth.</p>
<p>THACKERAY'S ROSE AND THE RING; or, The History of
Prince Giglio and Prince Bulbo. A Fireside Pantomime for
Great and Small Children. By Mr. <span class="smcap">M. A. Titmarsh</span>. Numerous
Illustrations. Small 4to, Cloth, $1.00.</p>
<p>WOOD'S HOMES WITHOUT HANDS: being a Description of
the Habitations of Animals, classed according to their Principle
of Construction. By <span class="smcap">J. G. Wood</span>, M.A., F.L.S., Author of
"Illustrated Natural History." With about 140 Illustrations.
8vo, Cloth, Beveled, $4.50.</p>
<p>A FRENCH COUNTRY FAMILY. Translated by the Author
of "John Halifax" from the French of Madame <span class="smcap">De Witt</span>, <i>née</i>
<span class="smcap">Guizot</span>. Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>MOTHERLESS. Translated by the Author of "John Halifax"
from the French of Madame <span class="smcap">De Witt</span>, <i>née</i> <span class="smcap">Guizot</span>. Illustrated.
12mo, Cloth, $1.50.</p>
<p>NINETEEN BEAUTIFUL YEARS; or, Sketches of a Girl's Life.
Written by her Sister. With an Introduction by Rev. R. S.
Foster, D.D. 16mo, Cloth, $1.00.</p>
<p>HOOKER'S CHILD'S BOOK OF NATURE. The Child's Book
of Nature, for the Use of Families and Schools: intended to aid
Mothers and Teachers in Training Children in the Observation of
Nature. In Three Parts. Part I. Plants. Part II. Animals.
Part III. Air, Water, Heat, Light, &c. By <span class="smcap">Worthington
Hooker</span>, M.D. Engravings. The Three Parts, complete in
One Volume, Small 4to, Cloth, $2.00; or, separately, 90 cents
each.</p>
<p>MACÉ'S SERVANTS OF THE STOMACH. The Servants of
the Stomach. By <span class="smcap">Jean Macé</span>. 12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>MACÉ'S HISTORY OF A MOUTHFUL OF BREAD, and its Effect
on the Organization of Men and Animals. 12mo, Cloth, $1.75.</p>
<p>MISS WARNER'S THREE LITTLE SPADES. Illustrations.
16mo, Cloth, $1.00.</p>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 48643 ***</div>
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