ENTICING THE LEOPARD.
ENTICING THE LEOPARD.
A VILLAGE ON THE SEASHORE—LYING IN WAIT FOR A LEOPARD.
On the promontory called Cape St. John, about a degree north of the Equator stood a Mbinga village, whose chief was called Imonga. This was, I think, in the year 1852. The country around was very wild. The village stood on the top of a high hill which ran out into the sea, and formed thecape itself. The waves there beat with great violence against a rock of the tertiary formation. It was a grand sight to see those angry billows white with foam dashing against the shore. You could see that they were wearing away the rock. To land there safely was very difficult. There were only two or three places where between the rocks a canoe could reach the shore. The people were as wild as the country round them, and very warlike. They were great fishermen, and many of them spent their whole time fishing in their little canoes. Game being very scarce, there were but few hunters.
Imonga, the chief, had a hideous large scar on his face, which showed at once that he was a fighting man. Not a few of his men showed signs of wounds which they had received in battle. Many of these fights or quarrels took place in canoes on the water, among themselves, or with people of other villages.
I do not know why, but Imonga was very fond of me, and so also were his people. But one thing revolted me. I found that several of Imonga's wives had the first joint of their little finger cut off. Imonga did this to make them mind him; for he wanted his wives to obey him implicitly.
The woods around the village were full of leopards. They were the dread of the people, for they were constantly carrying off some one. At night, they would come into the villages on their errands of blood, while the villagers were asleep. There was not a dog nor a goat left; and within two months three people had been eaten by them; the very places could be seen in the huts where the leopards had entered. They would tear up the thin thatched palm leaves of the roofs, and having seized their victims, they would go back through the hole with a tremendous leap, and with the man in their jaws, and run off into the forest.
The last man taken uttered a piercing cry of anguish, which awoke all the villagers. They at once arose and came to the rescue, but it was too late. They only found traces of blood as they proceeded. The leopard had gone far into the woods, and there devoured his victim. Of course there was tremendous excitement, and they went into the forest in search of the leopard; but he could never be found. There were so many of these savage beasts that they even walked along the beach, not satisfied with the woods alone; and when the tide was low, during the night, the footprints of their large paws could be seen distinctly marked on the sand. After ten or eleven o'clock at night, no native could be seen on the seashore without torches.
During the day the leopard hides himself either in the hollow of some one of the gigantic trees, with which these forests abound, or sleeps quietly on some branch, waiting for the approach of night. He seldom goes out before one o'clock in the morning, unless pressed by hunger, and about four o'clock he goes back to his lair.
I was now getting accustomed to face danger. Killing the buffalo that attacked me had given me confidence.
To kill a leopard must be my next exploit.
I selected a spot very near the sands of the sea, where I remarked the leopards used to come every night, when the tide was low. I chose a day when the moon began to rise at midnight, so that it might not be so dark that I could not take a good aim at the leopard, and see what was going on.
I then began to build a kind of pen or fortress; and I can assure you I worked very hard at it. Every day I went into the forest and cut branches of trees, with which I made a strong palisade. Every stick wasabout six feet high, and was put in the ground about a foot deep. These posts were fastened together with strong creepers. My little fortress, for so I must call it, was about five feet square. This would never answer; for the leopard might leap inside and take hold of me. So with the help of some strong branches all tied strongly together I built a roof. Then I made loopholes on all sides for my guns, so that I might fire at the beast whenever he came in sight.
I was glad when I had finished, for I felt very tired. My axe was not sharp, and it had required several days to complete my work.
One clear starlight night, at about nine o'clock, I went and shut myself up in my fortress. I had taken a goat with me, which I tied a few yards from my place of concealment. It was quite dark. After I had tied the goat, I went back and shut myself very securely inside my stronghold.
I waited and waited, but no leopard came. The goat cried all the time. It was so dark that even if the leopard had come I could not have seen it.
The moon rose by one o'clock. It was in its last quarter; and very strange and fantastic it made everything look. There were the shadows of the tall trees thrown upon the white sand of the beach, while in the forest the gloom was somewhat greater. The sea came rolling on the beach in gentle waves, which, as they broke, sent up thousands of bright, phosphorescent flashes. There was a dead silence everywhere, except when the goat cried, or some wild beast made the forest resound with its dismal howl. The wind whispered gently, mournfully through the woods.
I could not account for it, but now and then a cold shudder ran through me. I was quite alone, for the negro I had taken with me was fast asleep.
One o'clock. No leopard. I looked in vain all round me: I could see nothing.
Two o'clock. Nothing yet.
Suddenly, I spied something a long way off on the beach, so far that I could not make out what it was. It came slowly towards me. What could it be? I asked myself. Soon I recognised a big spotted leopard. The goat, which had seen it, began to cry more loudly. The big beast came nearer and nearer. He began to crouch. Then he lay flat on the ground. How his eyes glittered! They looked like two pieces of bright, burning charcoal.
My heart beat. The first thought that came to me was—Is my house strong enough to resist his attack, in case I should wound him, or if, perchance, he should prefer me to the goat, and make an onslaught upon it?
The savage beast crawled nearer, and again crouched down on the ground. I took my gun; and, just as I was getting ready to fire, he made an immense leap, and bounded upon the goat. I fired. I do not know how, but, in the twinkling of an eye, the goat was seized, and both leopard and goat disappeared in the dark forest. I fired again, but with no better success. In the morning, I saw nothing but the traces of the poor goat's blood.
I did not return to the village till morning; for I dared not go outside of my palisade that night. So, the goat being gone, I concluded I had better light a fire, to warm myself, and drive away the mosquitoes. I always carried a box of matches with me. I struck one, and soon succeeded in making a blaze with the little firewood I had collected.
Strange enough I must have looked, inside of my cage, while the fire sent its glimmering light around.
Finally, seeing that everything was well secured, I went to sleep, taking good care to put myself in the middle of the fort, so that if, by any chance, a leopard came, he could not get hold of me with his paw. When I awoke it was broad daylight, and I immediately started for Imonga's village.
FLOCKS OF BIRDS.
FLOCKS OF BIRDS.
THE BAY OF CORISCO—THE MANGROVE TREES—THE WONDERFUL FLOCKS OF BIRDS—WHAT I FOUND IN THE POUCH OF A PELICAN—HOW AN OLD KING IS BURIED, AND THE NEW KING CROWNED.
Now that you have followed me in the Benito country, and to Cape St. John, I will take you a little further down the coast to the Bay of Corisco. There, two rivers empty their waters into the sea. One of them is called the Muni river, and the other the Monda.
I will leave the Muni, for we shall have to come toit by-and-by, and will speak to you only of the Monda. It is throughout a low-banked swampy stream. The banks are covered with mangrove trees. Every limb or branch that grows in the water is covered with oysters—real oysters too; so that at low tide you can see, in some places for a long distance, immense beds of this kind of shell-fish.
The mangroves, on which the oysters grow so curiously, are very extraordinary trees. The main trunk, or parent tree, grows to an immense size. From a single tree a whole forest will grow up in time, for the branches send down shoots into the ground, which in their turn take root and become trees; so that, generally, almost the whole of the mangrove forest may be said to be knitted together.
The inhabitants of the country at the mouth of the river are called Shekiani. They are a very warlike tribe, and many of them are armed with guns, which they obtain from the vessels that come here from time to time to buy bar wood, ivory, or india-rubber.
I arrived at the mouth of the river, in a small canoe, manned by several Mbinga men. The canoe was made of the trunk of a single tree, and had a mat for a sail. At the mouth of the river, high above the swamps that surround its banks, are two hills. On the top of one of these hills, a village was situated. There I stayed. It was a village of insignificant size.
At low tide, the high muddy banks of the river are exposed. So many birds as are there, I never saw elsewhere: they are to be seen in countless thousands. The shore, the mud islands, and the water were so covered with them, that it was really a sight worth seeing. Here and there flocks of pelicans swam majestically along, keeping at a good distance from my canoe. You would probably wish to know what these pelicans are like. I will tell you. They are largebirds, and have an enormous bill, under which is a large pouch, capable of containing several pounds of fish. They have webbed feet, and their feathers are white. I wish you could see them looking out for their prey. How slyly they pry in the water for the fish they are in search of, and how quickly they pounce upon them unawares with their powerful beak! In an instant the fish are killed and stored away in the pouch; and when this is full, then Master Pelican begins to eat. The fish are put in the pouch as if it were a storehouse.
Now and then a string of flamingoes go stretching along the muddy shore, looking for all the world like a line of fire. Most beautiful are these flamingoes! and very singular they appear when not on the wing, but standing still on their long red legs! They are very wild, however, and difficult of approach.
Wherever the mud peeped out of the water, there were herons, cranes, gulls of various kinds. Scattered everywhere were seen those beautiful white birds (Egretta flavirostris). Some of the shore trees were covered with them, looking like snow in the distance.
Of course I wished to kill some of these birds. So I took a tiny little canoe, and covered it with branches of trees, that the birds might think it was a tree coming down the stream, as is often the case. Then I took a Shekiani with me to paddle, and, putting two guns in the canoe, we made for the pelicans. The sly birds seemed to suspect something, and did not give me a chance to approach them for a long time. But, as you know, in order to succeed in anything, people must have patience and perseverance. So, after chasing many, I finally succeeded in approaching one. He was just in the act of swallowing a big fish, when—bang!—I fired, and wounded him so that he could not fly. His wing had been broken by my shot. At the noise made by firing my gun, the birds flew away bythousands. I made for Master Pelican. The chase became exciting; but at last we succeeded in coming near him. But how to get hold of him was now the question. His wing only was broken; and, with his great beak, he might perhaps be able to cut one of my fingers right off. I was afraid to spoil his feathers if I fired again. He became exhausted, and with one of the paddles I gave him a tremendous blow on the head, which stunned him. Another blow finished him, and we lifted him into the canoe.
I cannot tell you how pleased I was. His pouch was full of fish. They were so fresh that I resolved to make a meal out of them.
I had hardly put the bird at the bottom of the canoe, when there came flying towards me a flock of at least two hundred flamingoes. In a moment I had my gun in readiness. Would they come near enough for me to get a shot at them? I watched them anxiously. Yes! Now they are near enough; and—bang! bang!—I fired the two barrels right into the middle of the flock, and two beautiful flamingoes fell into the water. Quickly we paddled towards them. In order to go faster I took a paddle also, and worked away as well as I could. They were dead. Both had received shots in the head.
We made for the shore. When I opened the pouch of the pelican—just think of it!—I found a dozen large fishes inside! They were quite fresh; and I am sure they had not been caught more than half an hour. You will agree with me that the pelican makes quick work when he goes a-fishing.
In the evening I felt so tired that I went straight to bed; and I slept so soundly, that if the Shekianis had chosen, they could have murdered me without my even opening my eyes.
This village had a new king; and I wondered if hismajesty were made king in the same fashion as the sovereign of the Mpongwe tribe; a tribe of negroes among whom I have resided, and I will tell you how their king was made.
Old King Glass died. He had been long ailing, but clung to life with determined tenacity. He was a disagreeable old heathen; but in his last days he became very devout—after his fashion. His idol was always freshly painted, and brightly decorated; his fetich, or "monda," was the best cared for fetich in Africa, and every few days some great doctors were brought down from the interior, and paid a large fee for advising the old king. He was afraid of witchcraft: he thought everybody wanted to put him out of the way by bewitching him. So the business of the doctors was to keep off the witches, and assure his majesty that he would live a long time. This assurance pleased him wonderfully, and he paid his doctors well.
The tribe had got tired of their king. They thought, indeed, that he was himself a most potent and evil-disposed wizard; and, though the matter was not openly talked about there were very few natives indeed who would pass his house after night, and none who could be tempted inside, by any slighter provocation than an irresistible glass of rum. In fact, if he had not been a great king, he would probably have been killed.
When he got sick at last, everybody seemed very sorry; but several of my friends told me in confidence, that the whole town hoped he would die; and die he did. I was awakened one morning, by those mournful cries and wails with which the African oftener covers a sham sorrow than expresses a real grief. All the women of the village seemed to be dissolved in tears. It is a most singular thing to see how readily the women of Africa can supply tears on the slightestoccasion, or for no occasion at all. They will cry together, at certain times of the day, on mourning occasions, when a few minutes before they were laughing. They need no pain or real grief to excite their tears. They can, apparently, weep at will.
The mourning and wailing on this occasion lasted six days. On the second day the old king was secretly buried, by a few of the most trusty men of the tribe, very early in the morning, before others were up; or perhaps at night. Some said he had been buried at night, while others said he had been buried in the morning, thus showing that they did not know. This custom arises from a belief that the other tribes would much like to get the head of the king, in order that with his brains they might make a powerful fetich.
During the days of mourning, the old men of the village busied themselves in choosing a new king. This, also, is a secret operation, and the result is not communicated to the people generally till the seventh day.
It happened that Njogoni (fowl), a good friend of mine, was elected. I do not know that Njogoni had the slightest suspicion of his elevation. At any rate, he shammed ignorance very well.
While he was walking on the shore, on the morning of the seventh day—probably some one had told him to go—he was suddenly set upon by the entire populace, who proceeded with a ceremony which is preliminary to the crowning. In a dense crowd they surrounded him, and then began to heap upon him every manner of abuse that the worst of mobs could imagine. Some spat in his face. Some beat him with their fists, not very hard of course. Some kicked him. Others threw dirty things at him. Those unlucky cues who stood on the outside and could only reach the poor fellow with their voices, assiduouslycursed him, and also his father, and especially his mother, as well as his sisters and brothers, and all his ancestors to the remotest generation. A stranger would not have given a farthing for the life of him who was presently to be crowned.
Amid the noise and struggle, I caught the words which explained all to me; for every few minutes some fellow, administering a comparatively severe blow or kick, would shout out, "You are not our king yet; for a little while we will do what we please with you. By-and-by we shall have to do your will."
Njogoni bore himself like a man, and a prospective king, and took all this abuse with a smiling face. When it had lasted about half an hour, they took him to the house of the old king. Here he was seated, and became again for a little while the victim of his people's curses and ill-usage.
Suddenly all became silent, and the elders of the people rose, and said solemnly (the people repeating after them), "Now we choose you for our king; we engage to listen to you, and to obey you."
Then there was silence; and presently the silk hat, of "stove-pipe" fashion, which is the emblem of royalty among the Mpongwe and several other tribes, was brought in, and placed on Njogoni's head. He was then dressed in a red gown, and received the greatest marks of respect from all those who had just now abused him.
Then followed six days of festival, during which the poor king, who had taken the name of his predecessor, was obliged to receive his subjects in his own house, and was not allowed to stir out. The whole time was occupied in indescribable gorging of food, and drinking of bad rum and palm wine. It was a scene of beastly gluttony and drunkenness and uproarious confusion. Strangers came from the surrounding villages. Everything to eatand drink was furnished freely, and all comers were welcome.
Old King Glass, for whom during six days no end of tears had been shed, was now forgotten; andnewKing Glass, poor fellow, was sick with exhaustion.
Finally, the rum and palm wine were drank up, the food was eaten, the allotted days of rejoicing had expired, and the people went back to their homes.
SCENE WITH THE MBOUSHA.
SCENE WITH THE MBOUSHA.
AN OLD MAN KILLED FOR WITCHCRAFT—MY JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY OF THE CANNIBALS—STARTING ON THE ROUTE.
In the year 1856 I was again in the equatorial regions. I was in the great forest, on my way to the cannibal country; yes, the country where the people eat one another. It was a long way off, and how was I to get there through the dense jungle? How was I to find my way in that vastAfrican forest? These were the thoughts that troubled me when I was in the village of Dayoko.
The village of Dayoko lies not far from the banks of the Ntambounay river, and is surrounded by beautiful groves of plantain trees.
Dayoko is one of the chiefs of the Mbousha tribe, and a wild and savage set of people they are I can tell you. But Dayoko became my friend, and said he would spare me a few men to take me part of the way.
These Mbousha people look very much like the Shekiani I have already described. They are superstitious and cruel, and believe in witchcraft. I stayed among them only a few days. I will now tell you what I saw there.
In a hut I found a very old man. His wool (hair) was white as snow, his face was wrinkled, and his limbs were shrunken. His hands were tied behind him, and his feet were placed in a rude kind of stocks. Several negroes, armed to the teeth, stood guard over him, and now and then insulted him by angry words and blows, to which he submitted in silence. What do you suppose all this meant?
This old man was to be killed for witchcraft!
A truly horrible delusion this witchcraft is!
I went to Dayoko, the chief, to try to save the old man's life, but I saw it was in vain.
During the whole night I could hear singing all over the town as well as a great uproar. Evidently they were preparing for the sacrifice of the old man.
Early in the morning the people gathered together with the fetich-man. His blood-shot eyes glared in savage excitement, as he went around from man to man. In his hands he held a bundle of herbs with which he sprinkled, three times, those to whom hespoke. Meantime, there was a man on the top of a high tree close by, who shouted, from time to time, "Jocou! Jocou!" at the same time shaking the trees.
"Jocou" means "devil" among the Mbousha; and the business of this man was to scare the evil spirit, and keep it away.
At last they all declared that the old man was a most potent wizard, that he had killed many people by sorcery, and that he must be killed.
You would like to know, I dare say, what these Africans mean by a wizard, or a witch? They believe that people have, within themselves, the power of killing anyone who displeases them. They believe that no one dies unless some one has bewitched him. Have you ever heard of such a horrible superstition? Hence those who are condemned for witchcraft are sometimes subjected to a very painful death; they are burnt by slow fire, and their bodies are given to the Bashikouay ant to be devoured. I shall have something to tell you about ants by-and-by. The poor wretches are cut into pieces; gashes are made over their bodies and cayenne pepper is put into the wounds. Indeed it makes me shudder to think of it, for I have witnessed such dreadful deaths, and seen many of the mutilated corpses.
After I witnessed the ceremony, the people scattered, and I went into my hut, for I was not well. After a while I thought I saw a man pass my door, almost like a flash, and after him rushed a horde of silent but infuriated men towards the river. In a little while, I heard sharp, piercing cries, as of a man in great agony, and then all became still as death.
I came out, and going towards the river was met by the crowd returning, every man armed, with axe, spear, knife or cutlass; and these weapons, as well as their own hands, and arms, and bodies were sprinkled with blood.
They had killed the poor old man they called a wizard, hacked him to pieces, and finished by splitting open his skull, and scattering the brains into the water. Then they returned. At night these blood-thirsty men seemed to be as gentle as lambs, and as cheerful as if nothing had happened.
Ought we not to be thankful that we were born in a civilized country?
Now came the "grand palaver" over my departure. I called Dayoko and all the elders of the village together. When they had all assembled, I told them I must go into the Fan country inhabited by the cannibals.
Dayoko said I should be murdered by the cannibals, and eaten up, and tried to dissuade me from going.
Finally I said that go I would.
So it was determined that I should go under Dayoko's protection. Accordingly he gave me two of his sons to accompany me, and ordered several men to carry my chests, guns, powder, bullets, and shot. They were to take me to one of Dayoko's fathers-in-law, a Mbondemo chief who lived in the mountains.
I was going farther and farther from the sea; if the savages were to leave me and run away in the forest, what would become of me?
We started in canoes, ascended the Muni river, and then paddled up the river called the Ntambounay (you must not mind these hard names, they are not of my choice. I must call things by the names the natives give them).
After paddling all day, towards sunset we all felt very tired; for we had gone a long way up the river, and reached a Shekiani village. I was quite astonished to meet Shekiani here, but so it happened.
I shall always remember this Shekiani village, for I thought I should be murdered and plundered there. After we had landed in the village, I was told at once, that I could not go any further, for the road belonged to them. I must pay a tribute of six shirts similar to those I wore, three great-coats, beads, etc., etc. This would have entirely ruined me.
I could not sleep at all. Through the whole night a crowd surrounded my hut, talking, shouting, and singing in the greatest excitement. My guns and revolvers were all loaded and I made up my mind not to be killed without fighting desperately. If I was to die, I resolved at all events to die like a brave man. All my party were in my hut except Dayoko's two sons, who had gone to talk with the Shekiani chief. The Shekiani chief was a friend of Dayoko, and Dayoko's sons told him I was their father's stranger-friend.
At last, things became more quiet; and, towards morning, the people were still or asleep.
We left the hut. All was still peaceful. My men said that Dayoko's sons had a big fetich to avert war.
I gave a present to the Shekiani chief, and off we started. We left our large canoes and took smaller ones; for we were to go through a very small stream.
As we ascended the beautiful river, we could see the lofty mountains of the interior. A great many islands studded the stream. From the trees on the banks, the monkeys looked down at us with astonishment. What curious creatures they were, with their black faces peeping out through the dark foliage, and looking as if they were making grimaces at us. By-and-by we left the river and made our way along the creeks or through the woods towards the Mbondemo village. Now and then we walked freely through the wide openingswhich the elephants had made. The rushing of a herd of elephants effects quite a clearing in the forest. On we went, till finally we came to a place where a great number of large trees had been prostrated. Wherever we looked, trees were lying on the ground, many of them of enormous size. As I looked I heard, not far off, a tremendous crash—a most awful noise. I could not conjecture what was the matter. It turned out that a tree had come down; and as it fell, being a huge one, it crushed a dozen others around it, and each as it broke gave a great crash, so that the combined effect was awful to hear.
We had to go through these fallen trees; and what tough work it was! I never had seen anything like it. Now we had to climb on a fallen tree and follow its trunk; then we had to come down, and were entangled in its branches or in those of other trees. At other times we had to creep under them. I was continually afraid that my gun would be fired off by some creepers or boughs getting hold of the trigger.
At last, when my patience was entirely gone, and my few clothes literally hanging in ribbons about me, my legs sadly wounded, and my face and hands scratched, we arrived at the camp of the Mbondemos, situated almost at the foot of the mountain.
These mountains were covered with an immense forest; and so thick were the trees that no open view could be obtained in any direction. The mountains ended somewhere in the interior, no one knew where, but this they knew, that it was near the home of the Fans, a cannibal tribe, and that elephants were plentiful, and gorillas were occasionally seen there. This encampment of the Mbondemos was called an Olako. There was not a house in the camp, and it was a romantic scene to look at. Scattered under huge trees, on the edge of the woods, were leafy shelters, openingtowards the forest. Under these the people lived. A few sticks put close together formed their beds. They contrived to sleep upon them, and I did the same. I assure you that they were hard enough, and reminded me that a mattress was a very good thing. Every family had its fire prepared beside the beds; and around these fires in the evening they clustered, men, women, and children.
The chief of this Mbondemo encampment was called Mbéné, and I liked him very much. He was very kind to me, and always tried to furnish me with food. There was scarcity of provisions, at the time, in the camp of the Mbondemos. There were no plantain and cassada fields near, and often I had to go without breakfast or dinner. The people lived chiefly on the nuts of the forest, and at that season of the year these were very scarce.
Poor Mbéné said they had very little to eat, but would give me what they could. I had carried with me a few little crackers, which I found very precious, more precious than gold, and which I reserved for time of sickness; but one by one they disappeared. I looked at them every time I took one; but I felt so hungry that I could not refrain from eating them.
Have you known what hunger is—real craving hunger? I can assure you it is a dreadful feeling.
During that time of the year, this people had half the time nothing to eat but the nut of a kind of palm.
This nut was so bitter I could scarcely eat it. It is shaped like an egg, with rounded ends. To prepare it for eating, it is divested of its husk, and soaked in water for twenty-four hours, when it loses part of its exceedingly bitter taste, and becomes tolerably palatable, that is, to a starving man. Sometimes hunger willmake them eat the nut without soaking it. I have done so myself, when lost in the forest. It is dreadfully disagreeable.
Now and then, the women succeeded in getting a few little fish in the streams, and gave me some. I could bear a good deal, for I had firmly resolved to go into the cannibal country.
These Mbondemos are continually moving their villages. Mbéné has moved his village three times within a few years. I asked him why he made these frequent changes. He said he moved the first time because a man had died, and the place was "not good" after that event. The second time he was forced to move because they had cut down all the palm trees, and would get no more mimbo (palm wine), a beverage of which they are excessively fond. They tap the palm, just as the maple tree is tapped in America, only they tap the tree at the top. This palm wine has somewhat of a milky colour; and, when drunk in great quantity, it intoxicates. The palm trees are very plentiful all over this part of the country, and it seems easier for them to move than to take care of the trees surrounding their settlements, useful as they are to them; for they furnish not only the wine they love, but the bitter nut I mentioned before, which often keeps them from actual starvation. When the tree is cut down they get what we call the palm cabbage which grows at the top. When cooked this palm cabbage is very good.
A country which has plenty of palm trees, plenty of game, a good river or rivulet, and plenty of fish, is the country for a Mbondemo settler or squatter.
In these forests there is a vine or creeper which I might call the traveller's vine. If thirsty you may cut it, and within less than a minute a tumblerful of waterwill come out of it. This vine hangs about in the forest, and seemed to me to grow without leaves. What a capital thing it would be if water were not abundant in this country! The water procured from it has hardly any taste, and is perfectly pure and limpid.
Being unable to endure the continual hunger, I called Mbéné, and told him that his place had no food to give, and he must take me to a country where there was something to eat, and which would be on my way to the Fan country. Good Mbéné said, "Spirit, I will try the best I can to take you where you want to go. I will send some of my people with you."
In the meantime, Dayoko's people had all returned to their village. These forests had no game. I spent hour after hour scouring the forest, but I could see nothing, except birds, some of which were extremely pretty. I am afraid that if I had succeeded in killing a snake I should have eaten it, as I felt desperately hungry. I did not like the bitter nuts; so it was agreed that Mbéné's brother Mcomo, together with several of his people, should accompany me as far as the country of the Fan tribe. I could hardly believe such good news to be true.
Mbéné's wife always cooked my food. She was a dear good old woman, and I gave her a fine necklace of beads when I left. She was delighted with my present. They were big white porcelain beads of the size of a pigeon's egg. One day Mbéné succeeded in getting a fowl for me. His wife cooked it; she made soup, and put plenty of cayenne pepper into it. I had also some plantain. How I enjoyed this meal! the more so that it was probably the last I should get for a good many days, unless we were unusually lucky, and should kill some antelopes or elephants on our road to the Fan country.
Elephant meat is execrable, as you would say on tasting it. But as you may not have the chance I will tell you by-and-by how it tastes.
As much food as possible was collected for our journey, and at last everything was ready.
KILLING THE SNAKE.CHAP. VII.
KILLING THE SNAKE.CHAP. VII.
OUR JOURNEY THROUGH THE WILDERNESS CONTINUED—A REBELLION IN CAMP—NOTHING TO EAT—I SHOOT A FISH AND MISS AN ELEPHANT—I KILL A BIG SNAKE, AND THE OTHERS EAT HIM—MY FIRST SIGHT OF GORILLAS.
Before we renewed our journey the natives had done all they could to gather provisions; but the result was poor enough. By going to distant villages they had succeeded in getting a few bunches of plantain.
Mcomo, Mbéné's brother, backed out. He said he was not going into the cannibal country to be eaten up. But I must tell you that Mbéné had some friends among the cannibals. And he sent with me two of his sons called Miengai and Makinda, together with twelve good hunters, and six women who were the wives of some of the men. The women carried the provisions, etc.
I took seventy pounds of shot and bullets, nineteen pounds of powder, ten pounds of arsenic for preserving the birds and animals I should kill, for I knew I should probably succeed in getting some new specimens.
When all was arranged, when everybody had taken leave of all his friends, for this was a very great journey, and they came back half-a-dozen times to take leave over again, or say something they had forgotten, when all the shouting and quarrelling about who should carry the smallest load was over, we at last got away.
We had left the camp of Mbéné behind us at a distance of about five miles when we came to the banks of a little river called the Noonday, a clear and beautiful stream. I was ahead of the party with Miengai, and was waiting for the others to come up before crossing. As we stood on the banks I spied a fish swimming along. Immediately the thought came into my mind, "How nicely that fish would taste if I could get it and boil it in a pot over the fire!" I fired a charge of small shot into it; but no sooner had I pulled the trigger than I heard a tremendous crash on the opposite bank about six or seven yards off. Small trees were torn down violently, and then we heard the shrill trumpetings of a party of frightened elephants. They were probably sleeping or standing in a dead silence on the opposite bank in the jungle. I was sorry I had fired, for after crossing the stream we might have killed an elephant. Poor Miengai was terribly vexed. "I am sure," said he, "they had big tusks of ivory."
Our party, as soon as they heard the gun, came up in haste, and asked what was the matter. When they heard the story they began to lament our not killing an elephant; for then we should have had meatenough for the whole journey; and they shouted with one accord: "Elephant meat is so good!"
This exclamation made me wonder how an elephant steak would taste.
On we went, and got fairly into the mountainous country. The hills became steeper as we advanced. How tired I felt; for the diet at Mbéné's camp had not strengthened me. These Mbondemos had a great advantage over me. They used their bare feet almost as deftly as monkeys, and hence got their foothold more easily than I.
Miengai and I were in advance. All at once he made me a sign to keep very still. I thought he had discovered a herd of elephants, or seen the traces of an enormous leopard. He cocked his gun; I cocked mine; the other men did the same; and there we stood in perfect silence, for at least five minutes. Suddenly Miengai sent a "hurrah" echoing through the forest. It was immediately answered by shouts from many voices not very far off, but whose owners were hidden from us by huge rocks and trees. Miengai replied with the fierce shout of the Mbondemo warriors, and was again answered. Thinking we were going to have a general fight, I looked carefully after my powder flask and my bullets, and found they were all right. Going a little farther on, we came in sight of the encampment of a large party, who proved to be some of Mbéné's people just returning from a trading expedition to the interior. Two men of this camp offered to go with us. Their names were Ngolai and Yeava. We consented to take them.
What a journey it was! Nothing but thick woods to struggle through, hills to climb, rivers to cross, and nearly all the time it rained; in fact, I was wet from morning to night. How glad I was when, in the evening, we had made our camp, and built great fires!For my part, I had three fires lit about my bed of leaves; and in the evening I always hung up my clothes to dry, so as to have them ready for the next day.
One morning my men came to tell me they were tired, and would not go a step farther unless I gave them more cloth.
They seemed in earnest; and I began to question myself whether they meant to plunder me or to leave me in these mountains. To be left thus alone would have been almost certain death. To give them what they asked was to show them I was afraid of them. If they knew I was afraid of them I did not know what they might next do. So I determined to put on a bold front. Taking my two revolvers in my hand, I said: "I will not give you any more cloth. I will not let you leave me, because your father Mbéné has given you to me to accompany me to the Fan tribe. You must therefore go with me, or" (here I motioned with my pistols) "there will be war between us. But," said I, "this is a very hard road, and at the end of the journey I will give you something more."
This satisfied them, and we again resumed our journey. Up, and up, and up we struggled, and now we began to meet with immense boulders. Not the scream of a bird, or the shrill cry of a monkey, broke the stillness of the dark solitude. Nothing was heard but the panting breaths of our party as we ascended the hills.
At last we came to an immense mountain torrent, which rushed down the hillside with fearful force, and was white with foam. Its course was full of huge granite boulders, which lay about as though the Titans had been playing at skittles in that country. Against these the angry waters dashed as if they would carryall before them, and, breaking, threw the milky spray up to the very tree-tops. As I looked up the torrent seemed to pour its foaming waters directly down upon us.
This was the head of the Ntambounay river which I had ascended in a canoe, and on the banks of which I came near being murdered in the Shekiani village. What a change had taken place in it! Here a canoe would be dashed into a hundred pieces against the rocks.
I was so thirsty and tired that I went to the river's bank, and drank a few handfuls of the pure, clean cold water.
After resting a little while, we continued our course till we reached the top of a very high mountain, whence I could see all the country round. How wild and desolate it looked! Nothing but forest and mountains stretching away as far as the eye could reach.
I was sitting under a very large tree, when, suddenly looking up, I saw an immense serpent coiled upon the branch of a tree just above me; and I really could not tell whether he was not about to spring upon me and entangle me in his huge folds. You may well believe that I very quickly "stood from under." I rushed out, and taking good aim with my gun, I shot my black friend in the head. He let go his hold, tumbled down with great force, and after writhing convulsively for a time, he lay before me dead. He measured thirteen feet in length, and his ugly fangs proved that he was venomous.
My men cut off the head of the snake, and divided the body into as many pieces as there were people. Then they lighted a fire, and roasted and ate it on the spot. They offered me a piece; but, though very hungry, I declined. When the snake was eaten I was the only individual of the company that had an emptystomach; I could not help reflecting on the disadvantage it is sometimes to have been born and bred in a civilized country, where snakes are not accounted good eating.
We now began to look about the ruins of the village near which we sat. A degenerate kind of sugar-cane was growing on the very spot where the houses had formerly stood. I made haste to pluck some of this, and chew it for the little sweetness it had. While thus engaged my men perceived what instantly threw us all into the greatest excitement. Here and there the cane was beaten down or torn up by the roots; and, lying about, were fragments which had evidently been chewed. There were also footprints to be seen, which looked almost like those of human beings. What could this mean? My men looked at each other in silence, and muttered, "Nguyla!" (Gorillas!).
It was the first time I had seen the footprints of these wild men of the woods, and I cannot tell you how I felt. Here was I now, it seemed, on the point of meeting, face to face, that monster, of whose ferocity, strength, and cunning the natives had told me so much, and which no white man before had hunted. My heart beat till I feared its loud pulsations would alarm the gorilla. I wondered how they looked. I thought of what Hanno the Carthaginian navigator said about the wild hairy men he had met on the West Coast of Africa more than two thousand years ago.
By the tracks it was easy to know that there must have been several gorillas in company. We prepared at once to follow them.
The women were terrified. They thought their end had come—that the gorilla would be soon upon them. So, before starting in search of the monster, we left two or three men to take care of them and reassure them. Then the rest of us looked once more carefullyat our guns; for the gorilla gives you no time to reload, and woe to him whom he attacks! We were fortunately armed to the teeth.
My men were remarkably silent, for they were going on an expedition of more than usual risk; for the male gorilla is literally the king of the forest—the king of the equatorial regions. He and the crested lion of Mount Atlas are the two fiercest and strongest beasts of that continent. The lion of South Africa cannot be compared with either for strength or courage.
As we left the camp, the men and women left behind crowded together, with fear written on their faces. Miengai, Ngolai, and Makinda set out for the hunt in one party; myself and Yeava formed another. We determined to keep near each other; so that in case of trouble, or in a great emergency, we might be at hand to help one another. For the rest, silence and a sure aim were the only cautions to be given.
As we followed the footprints, we could easily see that there were four or five of them, though none appeared very large. We saw where the gorillas had run along on all fours, which is their usual mode of progression. We could perceive also where, from time to time, they had seated themselves to chew the canes they had borne off. The chase began to be very exciting.
We had agreed to return to the women and their guards and consult about what was to be done, after we had discovered the probable course of the gorilla; and this was now done. To make sure of not alarming our prey, we moved the whole party forward a little way, to some leafy huts, built by passing traders, and which served us for shelter and concealment. Here we bestowed the women, whose lively fear of the terrible gorilla arises from various stories current among the tribes, of women having been carried off into thewoods by the fierce animal. Then we prepared once more to set out on our chase, this time hopeful to get a shot.
Looking once more to our guns, we started off. I confess that I was never more excited in my life. For years I had heard of the terrible roar of the gorilla, of its vast strength, of its fierce courage when only wounded. I knew that we were about to pit ourselves against an animal which even the enormously large leopards of the mountains fear, which the elephants let alone, and which perhaps has driven away the lion out of this territory; for the "king of beasts," so numerous elsewhere in Africa, is not met with in the land of the gorilla.
We descended a hill, crossed a stream on a fallen log, crept under the trees, and presently approached some huge boulders of granite. In the stream we had crossed we could see plainly signs that the animals had just crossed it, for the water was still disturbed. Our eyes wandered everywhere to get a glimpse of our prey. Alongside of the granite blocks lay an immense dead tree, and about this the gorillas were likely to be.
Our approach was very cautious; I wish you could have seen us. We were divided into two parties. Makinda led one, and I the other. We were to surround the granite block, behind which Makinda supposed the gorillas to be hiding. With guns cocked and ready we advanced through the dense wood, which cast a gloom, even in midday, over the whole scene. I looked at my men, and saw that they were even more excited than myself.
Slowly we pressed on through the dense bush, dreading almost to breathe, for fear of alarming the beasts. Makinda was to go to the right of the rock, while I took the left. Unfortunately he and his party circled it at too great a distance. The watchful animals sawhim. Suddenly I was startled by a strange, discordant, half human, devilish cry, and beheld four young and half-grown gorillas running towards the deep forest. I was not ready. We fired, but hit nothing. Then we rushed on in pursuit; but they knew the woods better than we. Once I caught a glimpse of one of the animals again; but an intervening tree spoiled my mark, and I did not fire. We pursued them till we were exhausted, but in vain. The alert beasts made good their escape. When we could pursue no more we returned slowly to our camp, where the women were anxiously expecting us.
I protest I felt almost like a murderer when I saw the gorilla this first time. As they ran on their hind legs, with their heads down, their bodies inclined forward, their whole appearance was that of hairy men running for their lives. Add to all this their cry, so awful, yet with something human in its discordance, and you will cease to wonder that the natives have the wildest superstitions about these "wild men of the woods."
In our absence the women had made large fires, and prepared the camp. I changed my clothes, which had become drenched by the frequent torrents and puddles we ran through in our eager pursuit. Then we sat down to our supper, which had been cooked in the meantime. I noticed that all my plantains were gone—eaten up. What was to become of us in the great forest? I had only two or three biscuits, which I kept in case of actual starvation or sickness.
As we lay by the fire in the evening before going to sleep, the adventure of the day was talked over to those who had not gone with us; and, of course, there followed some curious stories of the gorillas. I listened in silence.
One of the men told a story of two Mbondemo women who were walking together through the woods,when suddenly an immense gorilla stepped into the path, and, clutching one of the women, bore her off in spite of the screams and struggles of both. The other woman returned to the village much frightened, and told the story. Of course her companion was given up for lost. Great was the surprise when, a few days afterwards, she returned to her home.
"Yes," said one of the men, "that was a gorilla inhabited by a spirit." This explanation was received by a general grunt of approval.
One of the men told how, some years ago, a party of gorillas were found in a cane-field tying up the sugar-cane in regular bundles, preparatory to carrying it away. The natives attacked them, but were routed, and several killed, while others were carried off prisoners by the gorillas; but in a few days they returned home, not uninjured indeed, for the nails of their fingers and toes had been torn off by their captors.
Then several people spoke up, and mentioned names of dead men whose spirits were known to be dwelling in gorillas.
Finally came the story that is current among all the tribes who are acquainted with the habits of the gorilla, that this animal will hide himself in the lower branches of a tree, and there lie in wait for people who go to and fro. When one passes sufficiently near, the gorilla grasps the luckless fellow with his powerful feet, which he uses like giants' hands, and, drawing the man up in to the tree, he quietly chokes him there.
Hunger and starvation began to tell upon us severely. When we started I did not calculate on meeting with gorillas. I had eaten all my sea bread. There was not a particle of food among us, and no settlement near us. I began to feel anxious for fear that we should die. Berries were scarce; and nuts werehardly to be found. The forest seemed deserted. There was not even a bird to kill. To make matters worse, we had been misled. We were lost—lost in the great forest!—and we failed to reach a certain settlement where we had expected to arrive.
Travelling on an empty stomach is too exhausting to be very long endured. The third day I awoke feeble, but found that one of the men had killed a monkey. This animal, roughly roasted on the coals, tasted delicious. How I wished we had ten monkeys to eat! but how glad and grateful we were for that single one.
Presently, Makinda, looking up, discovered a beehive. He smoked the bees out, and I divided the honey. There might have been a fight over this sweet booty had I not interposed and distributed it in equal shares. Serving myself with a portion not bigger than I gave the rest, I at once sat down, and devoured honey, wax, dead bees, worms, dirt, and all; I was so hungry. I was only sorry we had not more.
I had really a hard time getting through the old elephant tracks, which were the best roads through the jungle. The men seemed to have lost their way. We saw no animals, but found several gorillas' tracks.
At last my men began to talk more cheerfully; they knew where they were: and, soon after, I saw the broad leaves of the plantain, the forerunner of an African town. But, alas! as we approached, we saw no one coming to meet us; and when we reached the place we found only a deserted village. But even for this how thankful I was! Since I left Dayoko I had experienced nothing but hunger and starvation; and these were the first human habitations we had met.
Presently, however, some Mbicho people made their appearance. They were relatives of Mbéné, and their village was close by. They gave us some plantains, but no fowls. I wished very much to get a fowl. I feltgouamba (which means hunger) for meat, and knew that a good warm fowl broth would have done me a great deal of good. We spent the evening in the houses, drying and warming ourselves. It was much better than the forest, even if it was only a deserted town.
I asked if we should ever reach the cannibal country, and found that, with the exception of the Mbicho village near at hand, we were already surrounded on three sides by Fan villages.
I was too tired to rest. Besides, I was getting deep into the interior of Africa, and was in the neighbourhood of the Fans, the most warlike tribe that inhabited the country. So I barricaded my hut, got my ammunition ready, saw that my guns were all right, and then lay awake for a long time, before I could go to sleep.