PRISONER IN NCHOGO.
PRISONER IN NCHOGO.
I knew that, according to African fashion, this palaver would last several years. That would never do for me, for I must be off.
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?"
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Thethreat 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.
Every thing that we could not take with us I either gave away or destroyed.
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.
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, andwho 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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."
The men said, "No, Chally." Macondai himself saidno. "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."
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.
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.
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 wasdense, 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
The next morning we waited for Mintcho and the men, and they made their appearance an hour after sunrise.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."
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.
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.
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.
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,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.
DECISIVE MEASURES.
DECISIVE MEASURES.
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.
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.
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.
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.
At last all the baggage was safely deposited on the margin of a little stream, where we were to build our camp.
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.
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.
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.
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."Mouitchi departed with the Otando man, taking with him a necklace of large beads for Mayolo.
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.
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.
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, andif I could have killed him we should have had plenty to eat, but he ran away before I came up with him.
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."
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.
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.
They were more successful than I had been. They came back with two monkeys.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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 signalfor 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.
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.
Astretchof 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."
"That was right," said I; "Mayolo, I love you; I killno people—I send no plague. I will be your friend, and the friend of your people."
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.
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.
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.
Poor Igala! he was my right arm, my fighting man. I depended upon him.
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.
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.
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."
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.
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."
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.
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 mytravels that the natives had dared to rob me on the road, and the news would spread. All this was Rogueri's doings.
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.
The moon was full, and it was quite light, so that every thing around could be easily seen.
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 theAshiras 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.
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."
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.
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.
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 Commimen 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.
"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."
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 outby 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.
MEETING WITH MACONDAI.
MEETING WITH MACONDAI.
"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;'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.
"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 Macondai, '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."
"Well done!" we shouted with one voice; "well done, boys! Macondai and Igalo, you are men! you are men!"
"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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
TERRIBLE STORMS OF THUNDER.—DAYS OF ANXIETY.—SHOOTING AN ANTELOPE.—BRIGHTER PROSPECTS.—MAYOLO HAS A HARD TIME WITH HIS DOCTORS.—BASKET-MAKING.
Howstrange 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."
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.
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 daysof 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!
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.
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 thepeople who had bewitched his place, and made the plague come among his people.
HUNTING AN ANTELOPE.
HUNTING AN ANTELOPE.
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.
The next morning the village was empty; the peoplehad all gone into the woods. I could hear their voices; they had gone to make some of their number drink the mboundou.
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.
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.