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Title: Wild life under the equator
narrated for young people
Author: Paul B. Du Chaillu
Release date: December 28, 2024 [eBook #74984]
Language: English
Original publication: United States: Harper & Brothers
Credits: Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WILD LIFE UNDER THE EQUATOR ***
[Illustration: UNDER WAY IN AFRICA.]
WILD LIFE
UNDER THE EQUATOR.
NARRATED FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BY PAUL DU CHAILLU,
AUTHOR OF
“DISCOVERIES IN EQUATORIAL AFRICA,” “STORIES OF THE GORILLA COUNTRY,”
ETC.
_WITH NUMEROUS ENGRAVINGS._
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
FRANKLIN SQUARE.
1869.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CONTENTS.
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER Page 13
CHAPTER II.
Parrot Island.—How the Parrots build their Nests.—Parrot Soup 15
CHAPTER III.
An African Creek.—A Leopard among the Chickens.—A night Watch
for Leopards 25
CHAPTER IV.
Hunting Elephants and Buffaloes.—A venomous Serpent.—A Snake
charmer.—He is bitten.—He commits Suicide 34
CHAPTER V.
At Court in Africa.—Costumes of the Court.—An African
Household.—A false Alarm 44
CHAPTER VI.
Hunt for Gorillas.—A large one shot.—The Negroes make Charms of
his Brain.—Mourning in a Bakalai Town 50
CHAPTER VII.
An African Fireside.—A Camp by the Sea-shore.—The first Gorilla
Hunter.—Negro Blarney 61
CHAPTER VIII.
Hippopotamus hunting.—We kill one.—The Men eat it.—Poor
Beef.—What the Tusks are for 69
CHAPTER IX.
A great Gorilla 75
CHAPTER X.
Death in an African Village.—Lamentations.—The Funeral
Ceremonies.—An African Cemetery 82
CHAPTER XI.
A Tornado.—Before the Storm.—Thunder and Lightning.—After the
Storm 87
CHAPTER XII.
A Creek infested by Snakes.—Snake in the Boat.—An ugly Visitor 93
CHAPTER XIII.
Drinking the Mboundou.—How Olanga-Condo could do it.—How the
Mboundou is made.—The Effect of the Poison 101
CHAPTER XIV.
A royal Feast.—On the Banks of the Ovenga.—Preparations.—The
Bill of Fare.—A taste of Elephant and a mouthful of Monkey 108
CHAPTER XV.
The terrible Bashikouay.—March of an ant Army.—They build
Bridges.—They enter Houses.—Their Habits 114
CHAPTER XVI.
The Sorrows of the Birds.—Curious African Birds.—The Barbatula
du Chaillui.—The Barbatula Fuliginosa.—The Sycobius
Nigerrimus 125
CHAPTER XVII.
On the Ofoubou River.—Elephants bathing.—Pursuit through the
Swamp.—Escape of the Elephants 138
CHAPTER XVIII.
Njali-Coudié.—An African Town.—The Chief.—Courtship and
Marriage in Africa.—Buying a Wife.—Quarrel over the Spoils 145
CHAPTER XIX.
The Feast of Njambai.—The talking Idol.—Secret Proceedings.—The
Women and their Mysteries 150
CHAPTER XX.
Sick in a strange Land.—Adventure with a Snake.—How a Squirrel
was charmed 157
CHAPTER XXI.
Witchcraft.—Accusation of Pendé.—Result of his Trial 163
CHAPTER XXII.
Gorilla hunting.—Preparations.—We kill a male Gorilla.—Bringing
him to Camp 169
CHAPTER XXIII.
In the Buffalo Country.—The Paradise of Flies.—The various
Species 177
CHAPTER XXIV.
Elephant Pits.—A Captive.—Dividing the Meat.—The Alethe
Castanea 183
CHAPTER XXV.
A deserted Village.—Fear of Death.—Wars between
Villages.—African wild Boar.—The Hunt 189
CHAPTER XXVI.
In the wild Forest.—Hostile Tribes.—An intrenched Camp.—Forays
for Provisions 197
CHAPTER XXVII.
We discover human Foot-prints.—We spy out the Enemy.—A female
Gorilla.—Maternal Fondness 208
CHAPTER XXVIII.
How we were received at Camp.—Threatened with Starvation.—A
Night in Camp.—Malaouen’s Story 215
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
UNDER WAY IN AFRICA _Frontispiece._
PARROT ISLAND 21
AN AFRICAN WAR DANCE 27
ENCOUNTER WITH A LEOPARD 30
LYING LOW FOR ELEPHANTS 35
THE SNAKE CHARMER 41
APPEARANCE OF THE KING AND HIS COURT 45
FIERCE ATTACK OF A GORILLA 55
EVENING AMUSEMENTS IN AFRICA 63
HUNTING HIPPOPOTAMI 71
HEAD OF HIPPOPOTAMUS 74
FOOT-PRINTS OF THE GORILLA 76
FEMALE GORILLA AND HER YOUNG 79
MOURNING THE DEAD 84
A NIGHT STORM IN AFRICA 89
IN THE CREEK OF SNAKES 95
DRINKING THE MBOUNDOU 103
MARCH OF BASHIKOUAY ANTS 119
THE BASHIKOUAY ANT, MAGNIFIED TO TWICE ITS NATURAL SIZE 123
THE BARBATULA WORKING 131
AFRICAN HANGING BIRDS’ NESTS 133
HUNTING ELEPHANTS 143
INTERIOR OF THE NJAMBAI-HOUSE 154
CHARMING THE SQUIRREL 161
THE TRIAL OF PENDÉ 165
DEATH OF A MALE GORILLA 173
DANCING AROUND THE ELEPHANT MEAT 186
KILLING FOUR WILD BOARS 195
SMOKING OUT THE BEES 204
TRAPPING THE MONKEY 206
WE DISCOVER FOOT-PRINTS 209
ARRIVAL AT THE STOCKADE 217
GOOD-BYE TO THE BAKALAIS 227
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
WILD LIFE UNDER THE EQUATOR.
PRELIMINARY CHAPTER.
Dear young folks!—In the book I wrote for you last _year_, called
“Stories of the Gorilla country,” I said to you “_au revoir_:” that
means good-bye till I come again.
I have come again to my publishers, who are also my good friends, and
who have let me have my own way about the illustrations of this book;
they have told me that you were pleased with the last book. Not only
have they told me so, but many of you have said the same thing to me.
This was good news, for I delight to tell stories to young folks, and
“Stories of the Gorilla Country” being the first book I ever wrote for
you, I was delighted to hear of its success.
I felt quite happy when I learned that I had been able to interest you
in what interested me, while travelling in far-distant countries.
I have taken my pen once more. I am going to lead you into the great
forest of Equatorial Africa. I am going to try to make you travel with
me in the wild country I have explored. I am going to bring you face to
face with the gorilla, and lead you into the midst of the wild tribes of
men I have discovered. I will tell you how they live, what queer
superstitions they have, and what sort of people these poor savages are.
I shall tell you about snakes, leopards, elephants, hippopotami, and
other wild beasts of the forest. About insects, wonderful ants, and many
other curious things.
You will follow me in that great jungle; you will get lost in it; you
will build your camp with me, and you will hunt with me; you will be
hungry with me; you will have the flies to plague you; you will have
lots of adventures, and perhaps when you close this book you will shout,
“What a glorious time we have had with our friend Paul!” I hope you will
not only be amused, but that you will be also instructed.
I have written two large volumes—“Explorations in Equatorial Africa” and
“Journey to Ashango Land”—for older people than yourselves, and I do not
see why I should not write for young folks. Now let me lead you into
that land of wonders, where no civilized man had ever trodden before me.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER II.
PARROT ISLAND.—HOW THE PARROTS BUILD THEIR NESTS.—PARROT SOUP.
There is an Island by the sea, in a far country, called Nengue Ngozo.
I shall always remember that Island; for when I went there I was young
and wild—as wild as the waves of that sea. I had no mother to care for
me; I had no sister to love me when I came to this Island. The wide
world was before me. But I loved to roam in wild and distant countries;
I loved to look upon and study the men, the beasts, the birds, the
fishes, the insects, and the trees. I had no one with me, but God was
kind to me, and took care of me, and he has now brought me back safely,
so that I might tell you all I have seen.
On Nengue Ngozo there was a little village. That village had a King, who
instead of a crown wore a woolen cap, and for a sceptre he had a cane.
Indeed, the Island of Nengue Ngozo, which means Parrot Island, is a
little kingdom of itself. It is covered with forest, and is situated in
the estuary called the Gaboon, formed in the bight of Guinea, on the
west coast of Africa, some fifteen or sixteen miles north of the
equator, and a few miles from the sea. Not far from it there is another
Island called Konikey. (Both of these islands are marked in the map
published in my work called “Explorations in Equatorial Africa.”)
One part of Nengue Ngozo is tolerably high, the other part is low and
swampy. It is covered with a great forest; some of the trees are very
large and tall, and the foliage of the palm-trees is very beautiful.
The Island is but a few miles in circumference.
The people of this Island are safe from wild beasts, as there are no
leopards to carry them away or kill their goats, no elephants to destroy
their plantations, and no gorillas to roam about and frighten them. The
cries of the chimpanzee are not heard, the wild buffalo is not to be
seen, the graceful antelopes and gazelles are unknown, and the chatter
of monkeys does not fall upon the ear of the people or resound strangely
in the woods. But all these roam at leisure on the main-land, where the
villages of the warlike Shekiani and Bakalai people are scattered over
the great, wild forest.
As I looked upon the water I could see the majestic pelican chasing the
fishes, and the gulls flying in great numbers through the air, their
shrill cries sounding strangely in the midst of the grand solitude by
which I was surrounded.
Cranes and other birds were walking to and fro on the beach in search of
their food. How quiet, silent and sly they were as they stepped from
place to place looking for their prey; and, when they saw it, how
quickly their long beaks dipped into the water to seize it!
It was a very warm day when I landed on Nengue Ngozo. The rays of the
sun were powerful, and there was not a ripple on the water. It was so
hot that my men had not even strength to paddle. Our sail, made of
natives’ mats, flapped against the mast and was not of the slightest use
except to fan us. Happily the tide carried us toward the Island. I had
an umbrella over my head, and now and then I wetted a handkerchief which
was in my hat to keep my head cool. I felt that I was as red as a boiled
lobster. I remember well how much I suffered from the heat that day.
[Sidenote: _SHARKS._]
Now and then we could see the fins of sharks as they came near our
canoe, and a shudder went through us all, for we knew well what would
become of us if by some misfortune we were to upset.
A few days before a fine boy had been devoured by these monsters. The
sight of a shark when I am in a canoe always makes me shudder. I fear a
shark more than I do snakes. Which is saying a great deal!
How glad I was when I landed and rested myself under the shade of the
forest which grew to the very water’s edge. I quenched my thirst in a
little brook which rose in the interior of the Island, and oh! how much
better I felt afterward. I had to drink out of a large leaf which I
folded in the form of a cornucopia.
I saw on the sands what I knew to be the foot-prints of men; we followed
them and at last came to the very small village of which I have spoken
to you. The men with me were Mpongwes, and belonged to the same tribe as
the people of the Island.
The King and his people at first stared at me, but a word or two from my
men made every thing right.
The luggage was landed from our canoe, the canoe was then hauled on to
the main-land and put under the shade of the trees, and we were ready to
rest, for we were all very tired and I felt rather feverish.
The wives of the King cooked food for us, and in the mean time huts had
been given to us by his sable Majesty.
I hardly tasted the food that was presented to me. After my sham meal I
fell asleep, and when I awoke the sun had set, and all was dark and
silent. I felt better, however, and came out of my hut; the King was
quietly smoking his pipe, and we had a chat together; the Queen came
forth also; then a few old men of the place, whom we may call the
gray-beards, made their appearance.
These people of course knew what the sea was, knew that the vessels
sailed upon it to come to their country; but they asked me many
questions about the white man’s country. For instance:—
Had we men with only one eye in the middle of the forehead?
Did our babies feed on milk? They had heard they fed on spirits.
Of what material were our houses? Were they built with the bark of
trees? And many other apparently foolish questions.
When I told them that we had no people with one eye in the middle of
their foreheads they did not believe me. They had never seen any white
man manufacturing before them the goods we brought, therefore they
thought another species of men must make them, from whom we bought them.
At last, looking at my watch, I saw that it was ten o’clock: time to go
to bed: so I bade good-night to the King and his people and went back to
my hut. I barricaded myself; slept with my gun by my side, and for my
pillow laid my head on my revolvers.
[Sidenote: _THE PARROTS COME._]
Toward three or four o’clock in the morning I was startled by a
tremendous noise. At first, just waking up, I could not make out what it
was; when lo! I discovered it was made by parrots, chattering away in a
most jolly and discordant manner. I had never heard such a noise in my
life before. The Island must have been full of them. I tried in vain to
sleep—turned myself one way, then the other, but it was of no avail; the
noise was so terrific there was no rest for me. I don’t think a hundred
bells tolling together could have made more noise. At any rate as they
went on I wondered if they could understand each other, and how they
could have come to the Island. They had probably arrived while I was
asleep, just before sunset.
Before the morning twilight came I was out, and as soon as the dawn of
day made its appearance, flock after flock flew from the trees and went
in different directions toward the main-land. I followed them as far as
my eyes could reach, but soon lost sight of them, for they were going
far away, very far away. They were in flocks, and each flock went in
search of places where they knew food was abundant. They went off by
tens, by twenties, and by hundreds together.
By sunrise not a parrot was to be seen on the Island, and I could only
hear the chatter of other birds. How silent then every thing seemed!
During the day I went to the top of the hill in search of land shells,
and after five o’clock in the afternoon the parrots began to arrive
again. From the top of the hill I could see them as far as my eyes could
reach: they were coming from immense distances. They continued pouring
in and pouring in, and I should not wonder if some had come from thirty
or forty miles, or perhaps even more. They came and they came, and they
continued coming, even after the sun had set, and two flocks came when
it was almost dark. These had probably come from far away and had
miscalculated the time their flight would take; or perhaps they had been
detained by some dainty fruit on the road. At any rate they came very
late. I calculated that at least twenty thousand parrots had arrived on
the Island, although there may have been one hundred thousand, for I do
not claim to have counted them all. They came to spend the night on the
Island of Nengue Ngozo, and I now ceased to wonder at the strange name
the natives had given to the Island.
These gray parrots are said to live to be a hundred years old and even
more. Some years ago I myself knew a sea-captain in New York by the name
of Brown, an old trader on the African coast, who had a parrot which he
had kept for thirty years. I wish you could have heard him talk and sing
songs. Captain Brown is dead, and I know not where his widow has gone,
but perhaps the parrot is still living. I could not help thinking that
some of these old parrots had come here every day, perhaps, for a
hundred years.
They perched by hundreds and perhaps thousands on the same trees, and
the trees on which they perched showed their heads far above those of
the other trees. How beautifully their gray plumage and their red tails
contrasted with the green leaves from the midst of which they appeared!
Some of the old ones were almost white. When old their feathers seem to
be covered with a white powder, and if you pass your hand over their
plumage this powder comes off. I have killed wild ones perfectly
splendid, much larger and handsomer than any I have seen tame.
[Sidenote: _HOW PARROTS BUILD THEIR NESTS._]
I wondered why these parrots had chosen this Island as their bedroom.
Why did they come from such distances every day when there were so many
tall trees in the forest on the main-land? I found that it was because
they were safer than on the main-land; there were no _genetta_ (a kind
of wild cat) to pounce upon them and disturb, or rather devour, them at
night.
[Illustration: PARROT ISLAND.]
Days passed, and every morning and every evening the parrots went away
and the parrots came back, and between three and four o’clock in the
morning began their _charming_ noise; but I became quite accustomed to
it and did not mind it at all after a while. I noticed also that
generally the same number that started together in the morning came back
together.
These parrots must certainly be endowed with a very great instinct to
know the way to the Island, as they come from great distances, and from
every direction.
Not only do they come to the Island of Nengue Ngozo to sleep, but in the
month of February and the beginning of March many remain and have their
nests on the Island. They all would have had their nests, I am sure, if
there had been hollows of trees enough for them.
These gray parrots do not build a regular nest, but choose a tree where
there is a deep hollow to lay their eggs in. The nests are discovered by
hearing their young calling all day long for their parents to feed them.
I never saw more than two young ones in one nest, or hollow of a tree,
and very funny they looked when covered with down before their feathers
had grown.
What awful cries they utter as they see the human hand coming through
the darkness ready to catch hold of them. And you had better look out
for your fingers, for they bite terribly hard, I assure you, as I know
by experience, and that in despite of their being very young. There were
days when I hid myself near a tree close by the place where they came to
sleep, but the parrots seemed to know it, and would fly round and round
it, and then go away. It is but very seldom that I ever was able to
approach parrots when they were perched on a tree standing by itself:
they would fly away before I could come within gunshot distance. They
are exceedingly shy.
When they approach their nests they always come in the most silent
manner, not uttering a single cry.
[Sidenote: _PARROT SOUP._]
For a while after they have taken their flight the young ones will
follow their parents; after a while the birds of the same age flock
together. A young gray parrot has entirely black eyes. Before he is a
year old a change takes place: a ring shows itself round the black,
which gradually turns yellow, then whitish-yellow. In the breeding
season the natives capture a great many young ones in their nests before
they can fly away.
After a few days the fowls of the little kingdom of Nengue Ngozo became
scarce, and at last the King had no more to give me; so I said to
myself, Why should not I kill some parrots and cook them?
One morning I awoke before daylight. Two evenings before I had watched a
tree not far away where the parrots were roosting in great numbers, and
had made a path leading to it. When I went by that path it was pitch
dark; I could not help thinking of snakes, but at last I came to the
foot of the tree. It was just before daybreak; the birds did not see me,
but they seemed to mistrust something, for, though I had come very
noiselessly, their chatter was of that kind which showed distinctly that
they were disturbed.
At last I raised my gun in the direction of what I thought the midst of
the tree; then I touched both triggers, and, _bang! bang!_ I let go both
barrels at the same time. The gun gave an awful recoil which almost
knocked me down, and I heard a shower of parrots falling all round me;
one fell right on the top of my head and nearly frightened the life out
of me, for I fancied a snake had just tumbled on top of me, or that a
bough of the tree was coming down.
What a terrific noise followed my two shots! I had never heard any thing
like it. They fled in dismay, screaming with all their might; but where
were they to go? it was dark, and the whole population of parrots was in
terrible trouble. The next evening not a parrot came upon that tree, and
they were all very suspicious as they came to the Island, flying round
and round the trees before they roosted.
When daylight came, I found twenty dead parrots on the ground, and had a
grand feast. I had parrot soup, which was not at all bad; roasted
parrot; and grilled parrot. The old parrots were very tough, but the
young ones were excellent; their flesh was black and resembled in taste
that of the pigeon.
Now I have told you all I know about Nengue Ngozo. Nengue, as I have
said before, means an Island, and Ngozo, parrot. Should any one of you
ever go to the Gaboon country he will find the Island, and he will see
the parrots—unless the natives have cut down all the trees.
In that part of Africa there are only two kinds of parrots: the gray
sort—which is very abundant, and much handsomer than the gray one found
near Sierra Leone, the gray being of a lighter color—and the green one,
which is very rare.
But I have one now in my possession, the only one I have ever seen which
is extraordinary. It is pink and gray; that is, it has pink and gray
feathers, and is a very beautiful bird, the rarest that was ever brought
to America or Europe, and probably the only one of its kind that ever
existed, for it is not a distinct species, but a freak of Nature.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER III.
AN AFRICAN CREEK.—A LEOPARD AMONG THE CHICKENS.—A NIGHT WATCH FOR
LEOPARDS.
Now I had just left the Island of Nengue Ngozo, and if your eyes could
have reached that part of the world, you might have seen me still in the
same little canoe, made of the trunk of a single tree, armed to the
teeth, making for the Ikoi Creek, which was not far distant. (This creek
is also marked on my large map published in my work called “Explorations
in Equatorial Africa.”)
The canoe was going swiftly through the water, the wind was good, and
soon after our departure we entered the creek. I felt anxious, for the
Bakalai and Shekiani villages were at war with each other—a wild and
treacherous set they are—and either tribe might have taken my canoe for
that of their enemy, and so pounced upon us in great numbers and killed
us all before we could let them know that we were strangers belonging to
the Mpongwe tribe, their friends. I was watching continually to see if
there were not some canoes in ambush. After a while the creek became
narrower, the breeze ceased, the sail had to be furled along the mast,
the men took to the paddles, and our canoe glided onward upon the waters
of the Ikoi.
The sight was dismal enough: both banks were flanked with swampy forests
of mangrove; the tide was low, and a prodigious number of oysters were
seen on the roots of the mangrove-trees. As we came near them I took an
axe and cut some of the roots, which were literally covered with
oysters. We lit a fire at the bottom of the canoe and roasted these
oysters, and they were excellent. I assure you it was quite a treat.
Feeling better after our meal, we paddled on again. The mangrove-trees
became more scarce, and at last we came in sight of a village of
Shekianis.
As soon as they saw us they met in great numbers on the top of the hill
where the village stood, and I could hear their wild shouts of war. As
we approached nearer their excitement increased; the war-drums beat, and
I could see them brandishing their spears. My men sang songs in the
Mpongwe language to show that we were not their enemies.
In the mean time I did not feel comfortable at all, and really thought
that we might have a fight. I knew these Shekiani people to be funny
fellows: if we had gone back, a dozen canoes armed with men would have
been after us, for they would have immediately thought we were their
enemies. So we pushed on, and at last came opposite the village. Here we
had to stop to speak to them, and finally they entreated us to pass the
night among them, the chief himself coming to beg us to stay.
As it was nearly night I concluded that it would be better to sleep in a
village than in the woods, for there we might have been attacked
unawares, the people not knowing who we were.
[Illustration: AN AFRICAN WAR DANCE.]
[Sidenote: _SHEKIANI VILLAGE._]
These Shekianis crowded round to see me, and at every move I made they
all sent up wild shouts of astonishment.
They were all armed to the teeth, and had the air of men continually on
the lookout for a fight.
Night soon came, and I went into the hut that had been given to me, but
could not sleep, for all the villagers were awake, and the drums were
beating from one end of the village to the other. Songs of war were sung
by the men, women, and children around their Mbuiti (an enormous wooden
idol, which was in the midst of the village). Besides, I thought the
village might be surprised during the night by the warlike and
treacherous Bakalais. So I need not tell you that all my guns were
loaded and all the guns of my men likewise.
I did not like this kind of travelling at all.
These men were all painted with colored chalk, red and yellow being the
favorite colors; they were covered with fetiches, which they believed
would protect them from the deadly weapons of their enemies; and by the
dim light of their fires and torches they appeared to me more like
devils than men. The village was also strongly fenced with long poles.
At last the morning twilight made its appearance, and after giving a
present to the King, we got ready and by sunrise were on our way.
We soon came to a Bakalai village, and there I made my head-quarters.
The country abounded in birds; wild boars were also said to be abundant,
and leopards were rather common. This was just the country in which I
expected to discover new species of birds and to enjoy some grand
hunting.
The house I lived in was at the extreme end of the village, and the
villagers were very kind to me.
[Illustration: ENCOUNTER WITH A LEOPARD.]
One night I heard a great cackling of my fowls, who perched on a tree
near my hut, and soon after I heard them flying away in every direction.
I jumped from my couch and opened my door, thinking some one was trying
to steal some of them. The moon was in its last quarter, so it was not
dark as I stepped into the yard, when lo! I was struck with terror to
find myself face to face with a tremendous leopard! How big he looked! I
was so astonished that for the space of thirty seconds—which seemed to
me to be minutes—or perhaps more, I did not stir a step. I looked at the
leopard, which certainly was not more than six yards from me, and the
leopard, which probably was quite as much astonished at my sudden
apparition, looked at me. I must have appeared to him like a ghost. I
seemed to be spell-bound. So did the leopard.
[Sidenote: _A NIGHT WATCH FOR LEOPARDS._]
Suddenly I came to my senses, and having no weapon with me I made a rush
for the door, shut myself inside, seized my rifle, then opened the door
in the quietest possible way. Now I felt strong with my gun in hand and
so looked out for Mr. Leopard; but the great beast had gone. I fancy he
was as much frightened as I was.
Such a sudden meeting in the night had never happened to me before, and
has never happened to me since; and I hope never will happen to me
again. In the morning, when I awoke, the enormous foot-prints of the
beast reminded me that it was not a dream.
The next day I bought a goat and tied it by the neck to a tree, just on
the border of the forest clearing. Not far from the tree where the goat
was tied there was another tree, a huge one, so I concluded to lay in
wait there for the leopard, and at night, every preparation having been
made before dark, I brought back the goat to the village.
About ten o’clock, with a torch in one hand and leading the goat with
the other, I tied the animal in the most secure manner, and so that the
leopard would have trouble to carry it off at once. I went and seated
myself on the ground, my back protected by the trunk of the huge tree I
have just spoken to you of, and facing the goat. I am sure I was not
more than six yards from it. I extinguished the torch so that it was
pitch dark. At first I could not see a yard off, but at last my eyes got
accustomed to the darkness, and I could see the goat plainly. The night
was clear and the stars shone most beautifully above my head. But how
strange every thing looked around me! A chill ran through me as I gazed
around: every thing seemed so mournful; I alone in such a place; while
now and then the cry of the solitary owl broke the deadness of the awful
silence.
The goat in the mean time was continually bleating, for the little
creature had an instinctive dread of being alone in such a place. I was
glad he cried, for I knew it would make the leopard come if the animal
could only hear him.
One hour passed away: no leopard! Two hours: no leopard! Three hours:
nothing! I began to feel tired, for I was seated on the bare ground.
Once or twice I thought I heard snakes crawling, but it was no doubt a
fancy.
I do not know, but I think I must have fallen asleep, for on a sudden,
looking for the goat, I saw that it was not there. I rubbed my eyes, for
I really was not sure of them, but I was not mistaken; no goat was to be
seen! I got up, and my wonder was great when at the place where the goat
had been I found blood. I could not believe my senses. I lighted the
torch and looked at my watch: it was four o’clock in the morning: and
then I saw distinctly the foot-prints of the leopard. There was no
mistake about it; the leopard had come, killed and carried away the
goat, and during that time I was fast asleep!
Just think of it! I must have slept almost two hours, and I thanked my
stars that the leopard had taken the goat instead of myself! It would
have been a dreadful feeling if I had been awakened as I was carried
away in the jaws of the leopard, his teeth deep into my body, as the
thing might well have happened. I wondered why it had not, and promised
myself to be more careful in future. Then I remembered how tired I felt
before I went to sleep.
If the goat had not been carried away I should certainly have thought
that I never had fallen asleep.
As I learned more about leopards I found they do not generally leave
their lairs before one o’clock, unless pressed by hunger.
[Sidenote: _A WOMAN KILLED._]
Sorrow soon afterward came in that village—a woman was killed on the
roadside by some unknown enemy: the villagers retaliated and went and
laid in ambush and killed some one belonging to another village; the
whole country had been involved in war for some time, and as it was
unsafe to walk anywhere, I concluded to leave the poor deluded people
who had been very kind to me. So, after packing my collections of
specimens of Natural History, I bade them a friendly farewell.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER IV.
HUNTING ELEPHANTS AND BUFFALOES.—A VENOMOUS SERPENT.—A SNAKE CHARMER.—HE
IS BITTEN.—HE COMMITS SUICIDE.
It was midnight; the moon had risen, and I could look at the expanse of
the prairies situated near Point Obenda, on the Gaboon estuary. The moon
threw just light enough to show me the great solitude, in the midst of
which there was not a living soul with me. As my eyes gazed upon the
broad expanse, I tried to see if I could perceive any wild beast. At
last I spied far off what I thought to be a huge elephant; it stood
still: the great beast neither walked nor fed.
I immediately put my old Panama hat flat on my head and walked in a
stooping posture toward the huge monster, who was far off. I approached
nearer and nearer, when lo! the big beast began to move toward me. A
feeling of awe crept over me; there was not a hill near to hide myself;
there was not a tree for me to climb upon; I thought how small I looked
by the side of this, the largest of the animals of the forest!
Did the elephant see me?
Did he come to meet me and attack me?
[Illustration: LYING LOW FOR ELEPHANTS.]
[Sidenote: _AN UGLY VISITOR._]
Such were the questions that came at once to my mind. My courage began
to quail. I was, as I said, quite alone; I had left all my men in the
camp: these men were the slaves of some of my Mpongwes’ friends, and
they were, I knew, fast asleep; in case of accident I had no one to come
to the rescue. At that time I was a young lad, and had no confidence in
myself, and to fight an elephant which looked so big, seemed to me
perfectly impossible. But very soon I got accustomed to face danger, and
loved to hunt elephants. I was no more afraid of them. Well, the
elephant kept still coming toward me as I lay flat on the ground. At
last he stopped, and then I saw him raise his trunk; my heart began to
beat terribly, for I thought he was coming down to charge upon me. Then
he sniffed two or three times and suddenly ran away. I had shouldered my
gun, resolved at any rate to try to kill him instead of being trampled
down by his huge feet.
The sound of every one of his steps could be heard distinctly, as he ran
away from me, and he was soon out of sight. He had gone into the forest,
and nature fell back into its accustomed stillness. Now and then the
voice of a frog resounded strangely from the prairie.
Suddenly a cloud came over the moon, and it grew almost dark; the wind
blew strongly, for it was in the dry season and was quite chilly. After
wandering a while I came at last to a large ant-hill and sheltered
myself there, thinking at the same time that it would be a splendid
place to hide and look for game.
How strange my shadow appeared by the side of that ant-hill, when the
moon shone again!
I did not wait long for game. I had not lain long by the ant-hill before
I saw coming out of the forest not far off a herd of _Bos brachicheros_,
the wild bull of this part of Africa. How fantastic their bodies
appeared, as one by one they came out of the forest: they were coming
toward where I stood, and the wind blew toward me. I counted, I think,
twenty of these wild buffaloes. They stopped for a while as if to
determine what direction to take, and perhaps also to see if they might
discover or smell the leopard, which is their most dangerous enemy, and
then continued their march toward the ant-hill where I was. I became
very excited, cocked my gun, and aimed at the bull which was heading the
herd, then pulled the trigger; bang! and down he came. A general
stampede followed, but just in the direction of the ant-hill. What did
these fellows mean? Did they all want to charge me? No, they passed to
the right and left of the ant-hill. After they had passed I turned round
and fired another shot into the midst of them, but this time with less
effect, for none fell, and this second shot made them run away with
greater speed than before. At any rate I was glad, for I had knocked
down the bull, the head of the herd.
I wished I had a horse and a lasso; how quickly I should have come to
them, and killed enough of them to give meat to all my men for several
days to come.
I went back and saw the bull lying on the ground, not dead, but moaning
terribly from pain. As I approached he tried to get up, but in vain; so
another bullet in the head finished him.
[Sidenote: _RETURN TO THE CAMP._]
My men, who had been awakened by the shot, looked round for me, and
finding that I had gone, made for the direction of the firing, and there
was great rejoicing as they approached and saw the huge bull lying on
the ground, for plenty was to enter the camp with his carcase.
The beast was at once cut to pieces; each man took a load, and we made
for the camp; for it was too cold to linger. Besides, I was getting
tired. We were afraid to leave the animal alone during the night for
fear of leopards.
It was four o’clock in the morning when I reached the camp.
Our camp was protected by the forest and was situated on the edge of it.
I immediately started a tremendous fire, and felt so tired that I fell
asleep directly on the bare ground, telling my men to keep watch. The
good fellows were in good spirits, and already began to roast pieces of
meat on the bright charcoal fire, and were eating in such big mouthfuls
that it would have made you laugh to see them.
As for me, as I said, I went to sleep, and my men the next morning said
that I made a terrible noise snoring. I denied it and said I never
snored, but they said I did. But after all, you know, I had no pillow,
and I should not wonder if I did snore a little.
Next morning the sun rose brightly, the air was somewhat chilly, the
breeze was fresh. I was happy, I remember. These were bright days for
me: I was without care, and for some time the fever had left me. I was
in good health and spirits.
After an early breakfast I started for the hunt. I had with me my best
gun; the slave that followed me had another gun; this one was loaded
with bullets; I had my dinner with me, and that dinner was a piece of
the bull I had killed the day before which had been roasted on charcoal.
I intended to dine on the banks of some little rivulet so that I might
have water to drink during my meal. I would have no plate except a leaf;
the trunk of a fallen tree was to be my seat, and my knees were to be my
table.
With a light step I left our camp. My spirits were buoyant; discoveries
of new animals, of new birds, of new countries loomed up in the
distance. How much I would have to tell my friends on my return from
that strange and wild land I had come to see, if God granted me life and
health!
[Sidenote: _A RUN FROM A DANGEROUS SNAKE._]
We went through prairies, swamps, and forest. At last we came to a spot
where once a plantation stood; it was intersected by several little
brooks of clear water. My man shouted, “_Omemba ompolo!_” (a large
snake), and I saw at the same moment an enormous black shining snake (a
species of naja), one of the most dangerous species. I knew he was
coming in our direction and belonged to that species that when bullied
raises itself erect and wants to fight. He was a terribly big fellow,
one of the largest I had ever seen; he looked loathsome and horrid; I
could see distinctly his triangular head. I fired in haste, hoping to
break his spine, but missed the reptile, and immediately he erected
himself to a few feet in height and whistled in the most horrid manner,
his tongue coming out sharp and pointed like an arrow. I fired again
right into his head, and I do not know why, but I missed him again. Then
the fellow gave a spring; I really do not know if he came toward me, for
I fled panic-stricken, and when at a safe distance reloaded my gun with
small shot, and returned to the spot where I had shot at him. I spied
something just getting out of a little rivulet. It was the very snake
itself which had crossed the water, and before he was entirely out I
fired and killed him, or rather I succeeded in breaking his spine and
making him helpless for attack or for running away. But he was not dead,
and when I approached him he again gave a sharp whistle. I cut a branch
of a tree for a stick to kill him with, and then examined his fangs:
they were of enormous size, and almost an inch in length.
This snake was about ten feet long. We left it on the spot, taking its
head and tail with us, which we carefully packed in leaves, for we
wanted to show to our fellows of the camp what a big snake we had
killed.
This species of naja is the only one I have ever seen which could erect
itself.
One day I witnessed a fearful scene. A man, a native of Goree, an island
on the coast of Senegambia, who had the reputation of being a snake
charmer and was then at the Gaboon, had succeeded in capturing one of
these large naja. He was a bold man, and prided himself on never being
afraid of any snake, however venomous the reptile might be; nay, not
only was he not afraid of any of them, but he would fight with any of
them and get hold of them.
I had often seen him with snakes in his hands. He was careful, of
course, to hold them just by the neck below the head, in such a manner
that the head could not turn on itself and bite him.
That day he brought into a large open place, perfectly bare of grass,
one of these wild naja that he had just captured, and was amusing
himself by teasing the horrid and loathsome creature when I arrived. It
was a huge one!
Most of the people of the village had fled, and those natives who like
myself were looking on, kept a long way off. Not a Mpongwe man, not a
single inhabitant of the whole region I have explored, would have ever
dared to do what the Goree man did.
Two or three times, as the snake crawled on the ground, we made off in
the opposite direction with the utmost speed, myself, I am afraid,
leading off in the general stampede; though I had provided myself with a
gun.
It was perfectly fearful, perfectly horrid and appalling to see that man
making a plaything of this monster; laughing, as we may say, at death,
for it could be nothing else, I thought.
[Sidenote: _CHARMING A NAJA._]
At first when I saw him he had the snake around his body, but he held it
firmly just below the neck, and I could see by the muscles of his arm
that he had to use great strength. As long as this part of the body is
held firmly the snake loses much of its great power of crushing one to
death as the boa-constrictor or python does with larger animals, and as
small snakes do with smaller game; but with this naja the danger would
have been the venomous bite.
[Illustration: THE SNAKE CHARMER.]
Then with his other hand he took the tail of the snake, and gave it a
swing and gradually unfolded the reptile from his black body, which was
warm and shining with excitement, but always holding the head. On a
sudden he threw the snake on the ground. Then the creature began to
crawl away, when suddenly the Goree man came in front of it with a light
stick and instantly the monster erected itself almost to half its full
length, gave a tremendous whistle, which we all heard, looked glaringly
and fiercely in the man’s face with its sharp, pointed tongue out, and
then stood still as if it could not move. The Goree man, with his little
stick in his left hand, touched it lightly as though to tease it. It was
a fearful sight—and if he had been near enough the snake would no doubt
have sprung upon its antagonist. The man, as he teased and infuriated
the snake with the rod he held in his left hand, drew the attention of
the reptile toward the stick; then suddenly and in the wink of an eye,
almost as quick as lightning, with his right hand he got hold of the
creature just under his head.
The same thing that I have just described again took place. The snake
folded itself round his body; then he unfolded the snake, which was once
more let loose, and now this horrid serpent got so infuriated that as
soon as he was thrown on the ground he erected himself, and the glare of
his eyes was something terrific. It was indeed an appalling scene; the
air around seemed to be filled with the whistling sound of the creature.
[Sidenote: _THE SNAKE CHARMER DIES._]
Alas! a more terrible scene soon took place! The man became bolder and
bolder, more and more careless, and the snake probably more and more
accustomed to the mode of warfare of his antagonist, and just as the
monster stood erect, the man attempted to seize its neck as he had done
many and many a time before, but grasped the body too low, and before he
had time to let it go the head turned on itself and the man was bitten!
I was perfectly speechless, the scene had frozen my blood, and the wild
shrieks of all those round rent the air. The serpent was loose and
crawling on the ground, but before it had time to go far a long pole
came down upon its back and broke its spine, and in less time than I
take to write it down the monster was killed.
To the French doctor who had charge of the little colony the man went
(happily he was just at hand); all the remedies were prompt and
powerful; the man suffered intensely, his body became swollen, his mind
wandered, and his life was despaired of; but at last he got better, and
though complaining of great pain near the heart, he was soon able to go
out again. A short time after this accident, having an axe in his hand,
going as he said to cut wood, he suddenly split his own head in two. He
had become insane!
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER V.
AT COURT IN AFRICA.—COSTUMES OF THE COURT.—AN AFRICAN HOUSEHOLD.—A FALSE
ALARM.
In the midst of the great forest, far from the sea, stands a village of
Mbondemo.
Before I entered it the gate had to be opened in order to let me in. The
village was composed only of a single street, each end was barricaded
with stout sticks or palisades, and, as there was war, the doors or
gates of the village were finally closed, and persons approaching, if
they could not explain their intentions, were remorselessly speared and
killed.
On the ends of the sticks making the palisades were skulls of wild
boars, of gorillas and of chimpanzees. At the gate I entered there was a
large wooden idol, and close by the idol was a very large elephant’s
skull.
If I had come alone I should probably never have entered the village,
but I had with me one of the King’s numerous sons-in-law belonging to a
far town, and he had sent word that I was coming with him and some of
his people.
I had hardly entered when all sorts of wild shouts were heard from one
end of the village to the other; the women ran away; the children hid in
their huts; and the men kept at a distance, so the way to the
palaver-house was free.
[Sidenote: _A ROYAL RECEPTION._]
These men were all armed to the teeth and were ready for fight. They
were continually in hot water with their neighbors, and never knew when
they were to be attacked. They are a quarrelsome people.
[Illustration: APPEARANCE OF THE KING AND HIS COURT.]
The palaver-house was a large shed built in the middle of the street,
and there we seated ourselves. A few men braver than the rest came to
look at what they thought the strange being, “the Spirit,” that had come
among them.
His Majesty headed the party, followed by his head-man. He wore an old
red English coat and no other garments. He was a short, thick-built
negro, and wore an immense pair of iron ear-rings. He was followed by
what I supposed to be the second head-man, or prime minister. This one
had for his costume an old shirt which had only one sleeve and no sign
of a button to be seen anywhere, a shirt that formerly must have been
white but had never been washed since he got it, which was several years
before. This prime minister had nothing else on. The third man, who of
course formed part of his Majesty’s suite, had on an old beaver hat and
nothing else. Another that followed him had one of those old-fashioned
black neck-ties (as tight as the neck itself, and attached with a
buckle) which were worn some thirty years ago, and nothing else. How the
deuce did that fellow get that cravat? I asked myself. I learned
afterward that he had inherited it. Then came a fellow who by hook or by
crook had possession of an old pair of shoes; how he had got them I was
unable to find out. His father had perhaps left them to him. How steady,
how grave they looked, as they passed one after another before me. These
were the leading men of this Mbisho village. They thought themselves
splendid, and their people thought the same. They came out in state.
I had seen before so much of the same kind of African court costumes
that I tried to look sober, as they made their appearance in the midst
of the shouts of their people, who praised their good looks.
They looked at me and I looked at them, and at last with one voice they
asked me to notice how handsome they were, each at the same time in one
way or another making the most of what he wore. I said they were very
fine.
The houses of that village had no windows or doors, except on the side
toward the street; and when the gates of the streets at each end were
locked the village was indeed a fortress. As an additional protection
trees had been cut down, and all the surrounding approaches had been
thus blocked up. This village was situated on the top of a high hill.
Interiorly the houses were divided by a bark partition into two rooms;
one the kitchen, where every body sits or lies down on the ground about
the fire, smokes his pipe, and goes to sleep, while listening to the
others. There also in the evening the harp is played.
The other is the sleeping apartment. This one is perfectly dark, and
here are stored all their provisions, all their riches. To ascertain how
large a family any householder has, you have only to count the little
doors which open into the various sleeping apartments: “So many doors,
so many wives.” These houses, like all the houses I had seen in the
interior, were made of the bark of trees.
There is nothing more disgusting than the toilet of one of these
Mbondemo fellows, except it be the toilet of his wife. The women seem to
lay on the oil and red earth thicker than their husbands.
[Sidenote: _THE NEW MOON IN AFRICA._]
The third night after I arrived in that strange village there was a new
moon. As soon as the shades of evening came no one talked except in an
under-tone. The people hardly came out of their huts; all was silent. In
the evening the King came out of his house and danced along the street;
his face and body were painted white, black, and red, and spotted all
over with spots the size of a peach. In the dim moonlight he had a
frightful appearance, which made me shudder at first, for I could not
help thinking of the devil. I asked him why he painted thus, but he only
answered by pointing to the moon without speaking a word.
The day of the new moon when the evening comes a strange kind of dread
seems to seize these people. In all the tribes that day they mark their
bodies with ochre, but I have never been able to find out the reason. To
them the moon is the emblem of time. Hence, as the moon appears, many
think that before it has disappeared again it will eat people; that is
to say, that some one may die.
The fifth day I had been in that village, in the middle of the night, I
was awakened by the war-drum beating, shouts of war, and a terrific
uproar. Men and women were running to and fro, and all said the enemy
was near. One man had been seen outside the palisade and when challenged
had run away. “Let them come!” they shouted, “let them come! We have the
_Spirit_ among us!” (meaning me). “Dare to come, and we will kill you
all!”
It was not a very pleasant situation to be in. I did not come to make
war with one party or the other. The large Mbuiti was instantly brought
out, and the people danced round it in the most strange and fantastic
way; one by one the great Mbisho warriors came by her, and sung songs to
her—the idol was a woman. One warrior danced tremendously before her; he
kicked his legs up and down one after the other, then put himself in the
most supplicating posture, his two hands forward, and simply asked that
he might kill every man that came to attack him. At last he got so
excited that I thought he would go mad. His eyes became wild, the foam
came out of his mouth, the muscles on his face worked convulsively, he
seized his spear with tremendous force, and his face looked like that of
a demon. While he was in that state the other people caught the
excitement, the drum beat more loudly, they sung more ferociously than
before, the whole town became warlike in the extreme. Of course there
was no more sleep for me.
[Sidenote: _A FALSE ALARM._]
The morning at last came, but no warriors had appeared to attack the
village. I am sure a panic had seized my friends, and that which they
took for a man was nothing but some wild animal passing by the village
walls.
The rainy season had fairly set in in these regions at the time of my
arrival, and thunder, lightning, and heavy showers were common both day
and night.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER VI.
HUNT FOR GORILLAS.—A LARGE ONE SHOT.—THE NEGROES MAKE CHARMS OF HIS
BRAIN.—MOURNING IN A BAKALAI TOWN.
I am in the densest part of the jungle!
What am I doing in that jungle, armed to the teeth, and loaded with
provisions?
If you could have looked closely you would have seen three black men
with me. They also were armed to the teeth and were loaded with
provisions. Their bodies were painted and they were covered with
warfetiches; and if they thought their fetiches had any power it was
time to wear them, for if we were not going to make war with man, we
were to hunt and try to meet the terrible and ferocious gorilla.
Yes, we were in fighting trim, and we intended to remain in the forest
as long as our provisions would hold out.
I had my best gun with me, which had been loaded in the most careful
manner that very morning. My three men, Miengai, Makinda, and Yeava, had
also loaded their guns, which were flint-locks. They had loaded them
tremendously, and instead of lead bullets had rammed down four or five
pieces of iron bar or rough broken castiron pieces, making the whole
charge eight or ten fingers deep.
[Sidenote: _AFTER GORILLAS._]
The country was very rough, hilly, and densely crowded with trees, and
under the trees the jungle was almost impassable, consequently our
hunting could hardly be counted sport, for we had to work fearfully hard
and with the greatest care; but I felt strong, for I had rested for two
or three days and the fever had let me alone.
We saw several gorilla tracks, and about noon divided our party in the
hope of surrounding the resting-place of one whose tracks were very
plain. I had scarcely got away from my party when I heard a report of a
gun, then of three more going off one after the other. Of course I ran
back as fast as I could, hoping to see a dead animal before me, but was
disappointed: my Mbondemo fellows had fired at a female, and had wounded
her, as I saw by the clots of blood which marked her tracks, but she had
made good her escape. We set out in pursuit; but these woods were too
thick, she knew their depths better than we did, and could go through
them much faster.
I was greatly disappointed. This was the second time I had seen gorillas
and they had run away.
I had heard of the fierce courage of the gorilla and his attacking man.
I began to believe that all that had been told me was untrue; and said
so to Miengai, who for sole answer said—“We have not yet seen a man
gorilla. The mother gorilla does not fight.”
Night came upon us as we were still beating the bush, and it was
determined a little before sunset to camp by the side of a beautiful
stream of clear water and to try our luck the next day. We had shot some
monkeys and two beautiful guinea-fowls. After our fire had been lit the
men roasted their monkey-meat over the coals; I roasted my birds before
the blaze on a stick. I was very hungry and enjoyed them.
Then I fixed my two fires in such a way that they would last for a long
time. I laid between them, and instead of a roof of leaves I made one
with the bark of trees, and soon fell asleep; but the _roars_ of the
leopards and the dismal cries of the owls awoke me several times.
We started early the next day, not discouraged, and pushed for the most
dense and impenetrable part of the forest, for there, in those deep
recesses, we hoped we might find a gorilla. Hour after hour we
travelled, and yet no signs of gorillas—we had hardly met a track. We
could only hear at long intervals the little chattering of monkeys, and
occasionally of birds. The solitude was grand, the silence profound, so
much so that we could hear our panting breath as we ascended hill after
hill. I was beginning to despair.
Suddenly Miengai uttered a little _cluck_ with his tongue, which is the
native’s way of showing that something is stirring, and that a sharp
lookout is necessary; in a word, to keep ourselves on our guard, or that
danger was surrounding us. Presently I noticed, ahead of us seemingly, a
noise as of some one breaking down branches or twigs of trees.
We stopped and came close together. I knew at once by the eager and
excited looks of the men that it was a gorilla. They looked once more
carefully at their guns, to see if by any chance the powder had fallen
out of the pans; I also examined mine, to make sure that all was right,
and then we marched on cautiously.
[Sidenote: _AN ENORMOUS GORILLA._]
The singular noise of the breaking of the branches continued. We walked
with the greatest care, making no noise at all. The countenances of the
men showed that they thought themselves engaged in a very serious
undertaking; but we pushed on, until I thought I could see through the
woods the moving of the branches and small trees which the great beast
was tearing down, probably to get from them the berries and fruits he
lives on.
I remember how close we were to each other.
Suddenly, as we were still creeping along, in a silence which made a
heavy breath seem loud and distinct, the woods were at once filled with
the tremendous barking roar of the gorilla.
Then the underbrush swayed rapidly ahead, and presently there stood
before us an immense male gorilla. He had come through the jungle on
all-fours, to see who dared to disturb him; but when he saw our party he
stood up and looked us boldly in the face. He stood about a dozen yards
from us, and it was a sight I shall never forget. He looked so big!
Nearly six feet high, with immense body, huge chest, and great muscular
arms, with fiercely-glaring, large, deep, gray eyes, and a hellish
expression of face, which seemed to me like some nightmare vision. Thus
stood before me the king of the African forest.
How black his face was!
He was not afraid of us. He stood there, and beat his breast with his
huge fists till it resounded like an immense bass drum, which is their
mode of offering defiance; meantime giving vent to roar after roar.
This roar was the most singular and awful noise I had ever heard in
these African forests. It began with a sharp _bark_, like that of an
angry dog; then glided into a deep bass _roll_ which literally and
closely resembled the roll of distant thunder along the sky. I have
heard the lion roar, but greater, deeper, and more fearful is the roar
of the gorilla. So deep is it that it seems to proceed less from the
mouth and throat than from the deep chest and vast paunch of the beast.
The earth was literally shaking under my feet as he roared, and for a
while I knew not where I was. Was it an apparition from the infernal
regions? Was I asleep or not? I was soon reminded that it was not a
dream.
I said quietly to myself—“Du Chaillu, if you do not kill this gorilla,
as sure as you are born he will kill you.”
His eyes began to flash fierce fire as we stood motionless on the
defensive, and the crest of short hair which stands on his forehead
began to twitch rapidly up and down and was perfectly frightful to look
at. His powerful fangs, or enormous canines, were shown as he again sent
forth a thunderous roar: the red inside of his mouth contrasted
singularly with his intensely black face.
And now truly he reminded me of nothing but some hellish
dream-creature—a being of that hideous order, half man, half beast,
which we find pictured by old artists in some representations of the
infernal regions; but nothing they ever painted could approach this
horrid monster in ugliness.
He advanced a few steps in a waddling way, for his short legs seemed
incapable of supporting his huge body; then stopped to utter that
hideous roar again—advanced again, and finally stopped when at a
distance of five or six yards from us. And then—as he extended his arms
as though ready to clutch us, and just as he began another of his
frightful roars, beating his breast with rage—what a huge hand he had!—I
fired, and killed him.
[Illustration: FIERCE ATTACK OF A GORILLA.]
[Sidenote: _THE GORILLA IS SHOT._]
With a groan that had something terribly human in it, and yet was full
of brutishness, he fell forward on his face like a man when he is struck
by a bullet in the chest. He shook convulsively for a few minutes, his
limbs moved about in a struggling way, the tremor of the muscles ceased,
and then all was quiet—death had done its work.
The monster was hardly dead when I suddenly began to tremble all over,
my lower jaw met my upper one in a way I did not like at all, and my men
looked at me with their mouths wide open in perfect amazement. They
could hardly believe their eyes, but having recovered themselves, they
asked me what was the matter. I answered that I did not know, and that I
had asked myself the same question.
For fifteen minutes my jaws went on cracking against each other, and the
more I tried to stop them the more they chattered. I felt awfully
mortified; but there was no help for it.
I said—“Next time you will see; I shall not do it again.” I kept my
word, but I never met a large male gorilla without thinking that it
might be the last of me.
There was great rejoicing, but it did not last long, for they soon began
to quarrel about the apportionment of the meat. They really eat the
creature, and the Fans told me that next to the flesh of man the gorilla
meat was the best. It looked wonderfully like beef, only it seemed to be
almost wholly composed of muscle.
I saw that they would come to blows presently if I did not interfere;
hence I said that if they were going to fight I would join in; and
taking the butt-end of my gun, I said I would smash the heads of the
three while they were fighting with each other.
This saying of mine at once made them laugh and they became quiet. They
knew that I meant what I said, and they did not fancy getting a
thrashing.
The subject of the quarrel was about the brain of the gorilla. Miengai
said he would have the whole of it, for he was the oldest. What would
they have known about the spirit pointing out to me if it had not been
for him? He said this with such complacency and self-satisfaction that I
could not help smiling; but this argument of Miengai did not seem to
satisfy Makinda and Yeava.
So I said I would give part of the brain to each of them, and when they
had it they wrapped it most carefully in leaves, and I was told that
_monda_ (charms) were to be made of this—charms of two kinds. Prepared
in one way, and mixed with bone, claws, feathers, ashes of certain
beasts, birds, and trees, the charm would give the wearer a strong hand
for the hunt, after he had rubbed his hands and arms with the mixture.
Prepared another way it gave the wearer success with women; he became
irresistible, and all the pretty girls were willing to become his wives.
I could not help thinking that if that latter charm was real, how much
bachelors and widowers would like to possess it at home where pretty
girls are so difficult to please.
My men in the evening fed on the gorilla meat, and I fed on the meat of
a small and beautiful little gazelle which Makinda had killed.
[Sidenote: _THE PEOPLE SCARED._]
The blazing fires shed their light through the beautiful forest, and I
went to sleep happy: but during the night I awoke, uttering a tremendous
shout which made my men laugh, for they had been up for some time in
order to eat a little more of the gorilla meat. I had the nightmare, and
had dreamed that I was pursued by half a dozen gorillas, and when I gave
that awful shriek I had just fancied that one of these monsters was
clutching me and was going to carry me away to the forest.
We were tired and worn out, but at last we reached a deserted village
which we had found before our hunting and where we had our camp. Judge
of our astonishment when I found the place in possession of a division
of travelling Bakalais! The village was full of them: men, women,
children and babies were there; they had quantities of food; all their
baggage, composed of old baskets, cooking-pots, calabashes, mats; and
all their farming implements. The men were all armed.
My apparition among them threw them into the utmost confusion, and if I
had not been followed by Miengai, who shouted to them to keep still,
they would have fled; but after a while we were great friends,
especially after I had distributed a few beads among the women.
They had been living on the banks of a river called Noya, and were
moving far from that place toward another village where the old chief
had two or three sons-in-law and the same number of fathers-in-law.
These people seemed to be in dread of something. They seemed to be in
retreat, as though they had fled from their former place of abode.
I learned that, a few days before, one of their men while bathing in the
river had been killed by some unknown enemy. Hereupon they were seized
with a panic, believed their village attacked by witches, that the
Aniemba witchcraft was among them, and they must abandon it and settle
elsewhere or they would all die one after the other.
Just a little before sunset I saw every one of them retire within doors;
the children ceased to play, and all became very quiet in the camp,
where just before there was so much noise and bustle. Then suddenly
arose on the air one of those mournful, heart-piercing chants which you
hear among all the tribes of this land. It was a chant for one of their
departed friends. As they sang, tears rolled down the cheeks of the
women, fright distorted their faces and cowed their spirits.
I listened and tried to gather the words of their chants. There was a
very monotonous repetition of one idea—that of sorrow at the departure
from among them of one of their friends and fellow-villagers.
Thus they sang:
_We chi noli lubella pe na beshe_
“Oh, you will never speak to us any more,
We can not see your face any more;
You will never walk with us again,
You will never settle our palavers for us.”
And so on.
They sang until the sun had disappeared below the horizon, till the orb
that gives gladness to the heart and life to the world had gone from
sight, and they chose the time of its disappearance to pour out their
mourning-songs. I thought there was something very poetical in the
relationship of the time to the subject. For what should we do without
the sun? It is the very heart of life!
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER VII.
AN AFRICAN FIRESIDE.—A CAMP BY THE SEA-SHORE.—THE FIRST GORILLA
HUNTER.—NEGRO BLARNEY.
As I and my men lay by the fire, I said to them—“Now to-night I am going
to tell you a story; an old story from the white man’s country
concerning yours.” There was a very great silence at once, for they knew
it was not often I came out with a story, and they all shouted with one
accord—“Tell us a story!” at the same time forming a circle round me.
So I begun: “Ever so long ago, and a long way off from here, but still
in your own land, there was a powerful country called Carthage. The
people of that country were brave and not afraid of war. They had many
ships, and their ships went into different countries. At that time the
Commi nation must have been a long way in the interior and your people
had never seen the sea.
“Would you believe,” said I, “that these Carthaginians came with their
ships round here? And I really think they saw the very country in which
we now are! They not only saw this country, but saw the gorilla, yes,
saw the gorilla! If you were in the white man’s country I would show you
the old manuscript (the book), where we have an account of what I am
going to say. You know,” said I, “that words coming from the mouth are
soon forgotten, but these words that are written are not.” Then taking
from my chest my journal, I read it to them, and then said—“When I am
dead, and you and your children are dead, and for ever so long
afterward, that journal, if it is not lost, will be read in the same
manner as I read it to you to-day, and the people will understand the
meaning of it then as you do to-day, and will know what I did, though
thousands of rainy and dry seasons may pass away.
“So Hanno the Carthaginian,” I continued, “was the head-man of all these
ships, and left Carthage with sixty vessels. In that time the ships were
unlike those you see now, and thirty thousand men and women are said to
have sailed with him. Each ship was rowed by fifty oarsmen. When we read
that book called the ‘Periplus; or, The Voyage of Hanno,’ we find the
following words in which we now suppose he alludes to the gorilla:
“‘On the third day, having sailed from thence, passing the streams of
fire, we came to a bay called the Horn of the South.’
[“That ‘Horn of the South,’” I added, “might be Cape Lopez.”]
“‘In the recess was an island like the first, having a lake, and in this
there was another island full of wild men.’”
[At this point of my story they looked in each other’s faces with
amazement.]
“‘But the greater part of them were women with hairy bodies, whom the
interpreters called Gorillas.’”
[Here there rose a wild shout of astonishment.]
[Sidenote: _THE FIRST GORILLA HUNTER._]
“‘But pursuing them, we were not able to take the men, who all escaped
from us by their great agility, being _cremenobates_ (that is to say,
climbing precipitous rocks and trees, and defending themselves by
throwing stones at us). We took three women, who bit and tore those who
caught them, and were unwilling to follow them. We were obliged to kill
them, and took their skins off, which skins were brought to Carthage,
for we did not navigate further, provisions becoming scarce.’”
[Illustration: EVENING AMUSEMENTS IN AFRICA.]
During this latter part of my story there was a dead silence, and as
soon as I had finished they said—“Chaillu, is this a real story or not?”
And when I assured them it was, they said—“Yes, it must be the gorilla
that that man called Hanno saw.”
I was quite astonished at their remembering the name of the admiral; it
showed me what an impression my story had created on their minds.
Then said I: “Boys, there are two or three points in the story I have
told you which inclines me to believe that the country Hanno speaks of
is not this one, and still there are several facts which make me think
that the country where we are now is the same.
“The very land on which we stand is sandy; not far off is the River
Fernand Vaz, and on one side another river, the Commi River, is found.
It may be that the land on which we stand was then an island, and that
Cape Lopez is the Horn of the South of which that great man Hanno
speaks. Time changes countries; in one part the sea will take away, in
another part the sea will give. Such is the country in which we are.”
They shouted with one accord that it could not be; how could land rise?
how could the land go down? As to the sea eating away the land, they
believed it, for they had seen it; and as to the land gaining in some
places, they believed that also, for they had seen it.
They all wondered how near the word Gorilla was to that of Ngina and
Nguyla, the latter name being given by the Bakalai to the beast.
After my story, we all went to bed. I wrapped myself carefully in my
blanket and soon fell asleep, thinking unconsciously of the gorillas,
and hoping soon to meet some.
It was the dry season; we were in the month of August, and I was near
Cape St. Catherine. The wind was blowing hard, the atmosphere was
chilly, the sky was clouded as though it was going to rain, but no rain
was coming, for no rain falls at this time of the year. The thermometer
stood at 70°, but I felt quite cold, and I wore a sailor’s woolen shirt.
[Sidenote: _ON THE SEA-SHORE._]
The sea was rolling up the shore in heavy rollers which would upset a
canoe in the twinkling of an eye; we had just arrived, and had come to
hunt, fish, and be merry.
My Commi men had all gone to the woods to cut branches of palm-trees,
and collect poles to build shelters.
I wish you could have seen the place where I had my encampment. On that
part of the coast from Cape Lopez, and further south than Cape St.
Catherine, the whole coast is low and covered with prairies which lift
but a few feet above the sea level. They are wooded here and there, and
shrubs are often mixed with the grass growing on the sandy soil; the
grass is good, not growing to a great height, but at this time of the
year it has been burned down. The landscape has a great sameness, and
from the sea it is most difficult to know any special spot of the land.
Altogether it is a dreary country, a very dreary country to look at, but
after all I was thankful not to be shut up in the forest; for to see
nothing but trees and trees is very tiresome; besides, the Atlantic was
before me, and as I gazed upon its broad waters I wished I could see the
shores of America.
The spot where I stood was about two degrees south of the equator.
Our camp was to be built near one of those numerous islands of trees
which dot the prairie, and we were to have it built in such a manner as
to protect us from the high winds which blew almost directly from the
south that time of the year.
One by one the men came back—some with a load of long-stem branches of
the palm; others with the leaves; others with fire-wood, and others with
sticks to make our beds with.
Then we went to work in earnest, and as they worked the men sang songs.
These men, my own people, had always been with me wherever I went except
when I went too far into the interior. They were all splendid canoe-men.
There was Kombé whom we had called the quarreller; Ratenou his brother,
who was a splendid fellow to go with his canoe through the breakers;
Oshimbo, who could paddle better than any man I ever knew; Ritimbo, a
jolly good fellow, always ready to beat the tamtam when asked for;
Makombé, a splendid one to tell us marvellous stories in the evening;
Rakenga, a great fisherman; Bandja, a man who knew how to climb the
palm-trees and get palm wine; Adouma, who could trap game and was said
to possess a wonderful fetich to make the game come to him; Risani, a
good carpenter, who said he was willing to work, but who was continually
talking of the amount of food he could eat; then came Yombi, who
constantly bragged of how much palm wine he could swallow, but was
always promising never to get tipsy—for I had promised him as good a
drubbing as ever he would wish to get if I caught him in a state of
intoxication. The last man of the party was a slave, a harp player.
There was no hunter but myself.
So you see we were a nice set altogether, and all were devoted to me and
obeyed me cheerfully. They all loved me dearly. Indeed, all the people
of that country loved me.
[Sidenote: _NEGRO BLARNEY._]
We had also quite an outfit of things with us. The cooking utensils were
numerous: we had three brass kettles, three iron pots, one frying-pan,
and three waterjars. We had also three axes, half a dozen machetes, and
several fishing-nets, and I had three of my guns, fifty pounds of shot,
a couple of hundred bullets, and there were flint-lock guns for the men.
We did not care to be armed; we were in our own country—in the Commi
Country, where my settlement of Washington is situated.
I had three chests, one containing my clothes and one filled with
splendid heads of Kentucky tobacco for my men, for they were all
inveterate smokers, myself being the only one that did not smoke. I had
also several dozens of pipes.
All rejoiced at the unbounded supply of tobacco and pipes: they were to
have such a glorious time; they were to take such great care of their
friend Chaillee, their king; there was no other Ntangani (white man)
like him; he was their good Mbuiti (spirit); all this talk was to soften
my heart about the tobacco.
At last the camp was done, and we were not sorry, for we had worked hard
the whole day. We had a huge pile of plantains with us, which the wives
and slaves of King Olenga Yombi had brought to us; we had a large
quantity of sugar-cane and some baskets of ground-nuts; the river and
the sea were not far off, and having our nets with us there was a
prospect of getting plenty of fish.
In the evening, when my men were smoking their pipes, we quietly talked
about our hunting and fishing prospects.
I had discovered that this Cape St. Catherine was a very great gorilla
country. These huge beasts roam in the forests which grow down to the
very edge of the sea, and now and then get a peep at the ocean. I wonder
what they think of it. I would have given the world to see them looking
at it; to see their deep gray eyes gazing on the broad expanse of the
waters. I have seen their very footsteps within a few yards of the
beach.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER VIII.
HIPPOPOTAMUS HUNTING.—WE KILL ONE.—THE MEN EAT IT.—POOR BEEF.—WHAT THE
TUSKS ARE FOR.
It was night; the moon had just risen, and threw a strange glare on
every thing round; I was in the prairie, and had been there since ten
o’clock in the morning, looking for wild beasts.
At last I saw five hippopotami grazing. I approached with cautious
steps, or rather I crawled on the ground toward the huge beasts, till I
came near enough to see the shadows their immense bodies threw around
them.
The question was how to get within gunshot without being seen. There was
nothing to protect me from their view, for the grass had been burned;
there was nothing either to protect me against their assault. Supposing
that I killed the one I should shoot at, the others might take it into
their heads to charge upon me. Not a tree was within reach. Now I had
been so accustomed to hunt wild beasts that I was not afraid of any of
them, but I knew that I could not kill five hippopotami at once.
Suddenly the animals turned round and gradually approached a grove of
trees; but what was to be done? the wind almost blew from that grove
toward them! “At any rate I will try,” said I to myself, “to go there,
but I must take a roundabout way.” How careful I had to be in order not
to be seen!
I felt very much excited, and when I reached the little island, or
grove, of trees without being discovered I was mightily pleased with
myself. It was, I thought, a splendid piece of woodcraft on my part. I
fancied I was almost the equal of Aboko, who had killed the rogue
elephant at Cape Lopez. I had reached the grove from the opposite side
to that where I supposed the hippopotami to be. The only sure way for me
to come close to them was to go through the grove and wait until they
should come within gunshot from the other side.
The trees were not very thick, and I could pass through the underbrush
without making much noise. I thought that perhaps there was a leopard
there, and if so he would leap upon me before I was aware. It was just
the time of the night when they were out, and they abounded in that
region. I therefore entered the woods, looking to the left and to the
right and ahead of me, in order not to be surprised, and met several
hippopotami tracks.
Just as I was in the midst of the grove I suddenly heard a great crash
in the direction I was going. Then followed several other crashes coming
from other parts. I listened: they were the hippopotami: they had
entered the grove by several paths converging toward me.
I kept still. I do believe my hair must have stood up on my head, for I
was awfully excited. The hippopotami were coming just where I was.
[Illustration: HUNTING HIPPOPOTAMI.]
I cocked my gun, hid myself behind a big tree, and waited. I heard the
crash of branches in all directions except one, and finally saw the
branches of the trees moving not far from me, and by the dim moonlight
piercing through the not very thick foliage, I perceived a monster
hippopotamus, the male of the herd, coming sideways so as to pass within
a few yards of me. Suddenly he stopped; gave one of his sonorous grunts;
and then advanced. What a monster he was! What a huge body! What short
legs! At last, just as he had passed me, so that he could not face me
without turning his unwieldy body, I fired into his ear, and the monster
dropped on the spot with scarcely a struggle. But I wish you had been
with me to hear the rush of the others. I thought all the trees were
coming down! One in his fright came down in my direction. I thought he
was charging me, so I fired, and I heard the bullet strike some part of
his body, probably one of his tusks, for it made a great noise; but that
was all; he passed on with a rapidity of which I thought these beasts
perfectly incapable. I was glad when they were all out of the way.
It had been an exciting hunt and I was satisfied. So I returned to the
camp, and the next day we all went to cut up the beast. Some of the
married men cut long strips of the hide to make whips, which they use
pretty freely on the backs of their wives; but I made them promise not
to use these whips except in self-defense.
[Sidenote: _A DINNER OF HIPPOPOTAMUS._]
There was joy in the camp in the evening. We had music, and I enjoyed
the broth amazingly; it was really good, and I wish I could say the same
of the flesh; but he was an old fellow and the meat was exceedingly
tough. I soon gave up the job of trying to eat it.
It did me good to see how my men enjoyed it. They had a dance in the
evening.
In the book called “Stories of the Gorilla Country” I have not told how
curious is the head of this great, unwieldy creature.
[Illustration: HEAD OF HIPPOPOTAMUS.]
Look at the huge, crooked tusks! What are they for?
After watching a great many times the movements of the hippopotamus, I
became assured that these huge, crooked tusks, which give its mouth such
a savage appearance, are designed chiefly to hook up the long
river-grasses on which these animals feed in great part. I have often
seen one descend to the bottom, remain a few minutes, and re-appear with
its tusks strung with grass, which was then leisurely chewed up.
There are no large herds of hippopotami in the parts of Africa I have
explored, like those found in South Africa, thirty being about the
greatest number I have ever seen together.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER IX.
A GREAT GORILLA.
A few days after killing the hippopotamus I took a solitary path in the
woods, leading to one of the lagoons or creeks so common along this
coast. Many of the trees growing in the woods belonged to a species of
African teak. The soil being sandy, the forest was not dense. Here and
there a cluster of palms, bearing the nut that furnishes the palm-oil,
was seen. Liannes and creepers twined round some of the trees and hung
gracefully down. The limbs and trunks of many trees were literally
covered with orchidæ, commonly called _air plant_. These when in bloom
bear very beautiful flowers which shed a delicious fragrance.
In many places the pine-apple plants were very abundant and grew by
thousands close together.
Now and then a little stream, meandering through the woods, found its
way to the creek or to the sea.
Birds were scarce, very scarce, and the silence of the woods was only
broken by the booming sound of the heavy surf, as each wave broke in
foaming white billows before it reached the shore. The wind blew hard,
as usual at that time of the year, and whispered strangely as it passed
through the trees to the country behind.
Now and then I could see the foot-prints of gorillas that had wandered
like myself through the woods, but these foot-prints were several days
old. I came to a place where the pine-apple plants were abundant, and
where the gorillas had evidently feasted on the leaves, for thousands of
them had been plucked out and only the white part eaten. Here and there
a young pine-apple had been partly eaten away by these hairy men of
Hanno, one or two bites taken and the fruit then thrown aside.
[Illustration: FOOT-PRINTS OF THE GORILLA.]
I had to be very careful in walking for fear of making a noise, for the
forest not being dense, gorillas could have seen me at a long distance.
The tondo fruit was also abundant throughout the wood.
[Sidenote: _A GREAT GORILLA._]
After I had followed the woods along the sea-shore for a while I
suddenly came to a place where a large male gorilla had been: the
foot-prints were of enormous size and he must have been a monstrous
fellow.
This place was not further than three feet from the beach, and I could
distinctly see by the foot-prints of the monster that it had been on
all-fours and suddenly had raised itself to an erect posture; while the
bending of a branch about eight or nine feet high, just above the marks,
showed that the animal had supported himself by it. By the position of
the heels I knew that the monster had been looking at the sea.
Yes, he had been looking, probably in great wonder, at the broad expanse
of water before him: he had seen the waves as they came in white billows
breaking themselves on the beach; as far as his deep-sunken gray eyes
could reach they had seen nothing but the ocean: perhaps he had also
been looking at the sun as it disappeared below the horizon.
I could but wonder what the thoughts of that great ape might have been!
“Yes,” said I to myself, “this must be the country where Hanno the
Carthaginian came.” And for a while I thought of those men of old whose
history we learn at school or college.
They have gone, but they have left their mark behind them, and will
continue to be remembered for a long time. Then I put my feet inside of
the foot-prints of the gorilla—how small they did look when compared
with those of the huge creature!—and for a while I stood exactly on the
same spot where he had stood. I do not know why, but I felt a kind of
satisfaction in doing so; and like him I gazed at the sea, but, unlike
him, I thought of the dear friends who lived on the other side, and I
blessed them!
Then, looking carefully at my gun, I left the place and continued my
ramble, when lo! in the far distance I spied a gorilla! The beast did
not see me: it was a female, and must have been half a mile from the
sea. I hid myself behind a tree in order to watch all her movements
unseen. She was seated on the ground before a cluster of pine-apples,
quietly eating one: she soon threw it away and plucked some of the
leaves. How black the face was! She grinned now and then, probably from
the joy the food gave her, when suddenly, to my utter astonishment, a
little gorilla, about two feet and a half in height, came running to its
mother, who gave a kind of chuckle that resembled very much the click of
the Bushmen of Southern Africa.
I began to be terribly excited. I must kill the mother and try to
capture the young one. How sorry I was to be alone. I wished my men had
been with me.
Unfortunately there were many intervening trees, and she was about three
hundred yards off. How could the bullet from my rifle reach her? I had
just left my place of concealment when she perceived me. She uttered a
piercing cry and disappeared, with her young one following her.
[Sidenote: _A YOUNG GORILLA._]
When I returned to the camp every body had gone except Kombé, who had
been left in charge. On my way back I took the sea-shore, and saw on the
beach for the first time the foot-prints made by the hippopotami, and I
wondered what they came to do so near the sea. So I followed one and was
surprised to see their heavy footsteps along the beach: they must
certainly have come there to bathe, and this I had never seen before.
[Illustration: FEMALE GORILLA AND HER YOUNG.]
One fine morning, just at sunrise, I spied a sail coming from the south.
How glad I was as I saw that sail coming nearer and nearer!
I knew that white men were on board!
The canoe which my men had fetched from Amimbri lay on the beach ready
to be launched: the men were there with their paddles ready. Ratenou was
in command and waiting for my orders.
What was to be done? I had left the flag at Washington! How sorry I
felt!
A long pole which Kombé had cut was brought, and instead of the flag one
of my white shirts was tied to its top by the sleeves, and then the pole
was elevated, and soon the shirt floated in the shape of a flag.
The vessel came nearer and nearer the shore, and I could soon make out
that it was a whaler: there was no mistake about it, for I could see the
whale-boats.
With my spy-glass I looked and saw the white faces of the men.
The ship hoisted its flag, and the stars and stripes of the great
Republic displayed themselves. A wild hurrah from me greeted their
appearance, and my men gave three cheers.
The breakers were heavy, very heavy, but we must go on board; I must
hear the news; I must see the face of a white man—I who had been so long
away from civilization, from my kindred, and from the world.
“Boys, let us try!” I shouted with excitement; “let us go on board!”
All the voices of my men shouted, “Let us try!” and immediately the
canoe came down the beach, five men on each side paddle in hand, Ratenou
and I standing by the stern.
We were watching an opportunity when the angry billows should calm down
and there should be a lull. The lull came, and almost as quick as
lightning the canoe was in the sea and we were off. My men paddled as
hard as they could in order to pass the surf before the heavy rollers
should break again.
[Sidenote: _A GREAT GORILLA._]
But lo! when we were about midway, the face of Ratenou changed color,
for from far away came one of those heavy swells that, as he knew, would
gradually change itself into a heavy roller as it neared the shore, and
in breaking dash to pieces all that came in contact with it. If that
roller broke before it reached us, however, all would be right.
It came on, rising and rising, when suddenly Ratenou said—“Commi, you
are men! Let us take care of our white man!”
Then the paddles stood still; the roller crested and broke right upon
our canoe, upsetting it with fearful force, and whirling us round and
round. I was stunned by the force of the waves; breaker after breaker
came dashing upon us, one after the other, but the faithful Commi men
were there, shouting one to another—“Let us take care of our white man!”
Ratenou, Kombé, and Oshimbo were swimming under me; I was surrounded by
them all; good, noble fellows they were. At last we reached the shore. I
looked round. Every man was there; no one had been drowned; no one had
had his head smashed by the upsetting of the canoe. With a grateful
heart I thanked God for his goodness to us all. The tide was coming up,
and our canoe and paddles were soon thrown on the beach by the force of
the waves and the current.
I looked at that vessel, and how sorry when I was gradually its white
sails became dimmer and dimmer in the distance. At last it disappeared,
and with a heavy sigh I made for the camp.
If you had been in a strange land amid savages, I am sure you would have
felt as I did then.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER X.
DEATH IN AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.—LAMENTATIONS.—THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES.—AN
AFRICAN CEMETERY.
What a strange thing is an African funeral! In a town on the banks of
the Rembo, called Conaco, where I had just arrived in my canoe, a man
was very ill. These poor savages seemed to be very sorry for him, but
did not know what to do. If I remember aright, the name of that man was
Irende. He had been a great warrior and a great hunter, but disease had
laid him prostrate, though he was still a young man.
The next day a great many people came into the village with their
tam-tams, or drums, and different sorts of musical instruments. They
were to try if they could not drive the devil away. With a great deal of
trouble a few guns had been obtained, and also some powder, in order to
make more noise.
[Sidenote: _DEATH IN A VILLAGE._]
In the evening the people entered the hut of Irende and began to sing.
The drummers had already gone inside and were beating their drums most
furiously; a few broken brass kettles added their noise to that of the
drums; some beat sticks on pieces of wood. In fact, every body tried to
make all the noise he could. At last those who had the guns came and
fired them close to the ears of the poor fellow, and also near his
stomach, where the _abambo_ (the devil) was supposed to be. I could not
stay more than five minutes in the hut, for the din was too great for
me. They wanted to drive the abambo out of the poor sick man so that he
might get well. But all the drumming they did, all the _mbuiti_ (idol)
had said concerning his recovery, all the care his wives, sisters and
his mother bestowed upon him, were of no avail.
The poor fellow died the second day after my arrival, right in the midst
of the drumming, just a few minutes after the guns had been fired near
his ears and stomach. It was midnight when he died. I was in my hut,
which was not far off, when suddenly there burst from one end of the
village to the other a wail that told me the sad story. Irende was dead!
What a wail it was! It went right to my heart, it was so piercing, so
heart-rending; I could not help but feel sorry for these poor people.
The wailing and the mourning-songs lasted all night; there was no sleep
for me.
In the morning I was led once more to the house where the body was laid.
The room was crowded: women from all the villages round had come, and
they were all seated on the floor. There must have been about three
hundred of them, and they were singing mournful songs to doleful and
monotonous airs. The tears were running down their cheeks. The wives of
the poor fellow, ten in number, had shaven their hair, had taken off
their garments and were almost naked, and they had rubbed their bodies
with ashes. Their anklets and bracelets had been removed, and round
their necks they wore a piece of native cord indicating that they were
widows and in mourning.
At length through the thick crowd I discovered the body of Irende. It
was seated on a stool, the back leaning against the wall. It was dressed
in an old coat, and by its side was a harp—for Irende had the reputation
of being a great musician; there also lay his spear and his gun, which
were to be buried with him.
[Illustration: MOURNING THE DEAD.]
His wives were round him, talking, begging him to speak to them, and
then silence followed. No answer came. Then there burst forth a
heart-piercing wail. “He is dead! he is dead!” they shouted. “His lips
will speak to us no more; he will not hunt for us any more; he will play
no more on the _wombi_ for us!” Then all ended in a long plaintive song.
The mother came, and kneeling before him took hold of his feet, which is
the most supplicating manner of address in Africa; she looked in his
face and said in a very plaintive voice—“My son, you have not spoken to
your wives, but I know you will speak to your mother. You will say to
her that you are not dead.”
The same silence ensued.
They all waited in vain for an answer for a few minutes; then the poor
mother rolled herself on the ground at her son’s feet, shrieked and
cried, and said—“Irende, why do you not speak to your mother?” The poor
mother’s shrieks were so long, so piercing, and she uttered such a wail
of grief, that the tears came into my eyes. The poor African mother had
a heart!
As I left the hut, thinking how strangely the mind of man is
constituted, the wailing continued, and was to be kept up until the
burial of the corpse.
[Sidenote: _AN AFRICAN FUNERAL._]
The day of the funeral came, and we went to the burial-ground. As the
body left the village and was put into a canoe, the wailing was
tremendous. The men that were to paddle were all painted, almost naked,
and covered with fetiches. The drum beat as we descended the stream.
As we approached the burial-ground (for these Commi have a sort of
cemetery) all became silent. Not a word was said; they prayed _Ovengua_
not to get hold of them, and the corpse was left on the sand, a certain
amount of which was thrown over it. His _wombi_ was laid by his side,
his gun and his spear were placed in his hand, and necklaces and
ornaments were left with him. A cooked dish of plantain and a jar of
water were placed beside him, so that he might drink and eat if he
chose, then all was over and we came away.
What a strange burial-ground it was! It was situated on a prairie, with
no trees in the neighborhood, and poles were the only signs that could
show it to be a cemetery. Here and there a grim skeleton could be seen,
and the remains of things that had accompanied the deceased men and
women to the grave.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XI.
A TORNADO.—BEFORE THE STORM.—THUNDER AND LIGHTNING.—AFTER THE STORM.
We had just returned to our camp in the forest. The day was intensely
warm; the rays of the sun poured down upon mother-earth with fearful
force; in the forest all was silent as death, for Nature herself seemed
prostrated.
We were in the season of the tornadoes—the latter part of the month of
March.
The light air that we had, had ceased. The horizon toward the north-east
grew black; at first a black spot had appeared only a little above the
horizon, then gradually rose higher and higher. The sight of this token
inspired awe. The wind was blowing from the opposite direction. The
white and fleecy clouds that were hanging in the atmosphere as they came
near the black spot gradually stopped, and were slowly absorbed into
black cloud.
I looked anxiously on. To a stranger the appearance of the sky showed
that a fearful storm was coming.
The birds began to fly in the air in a frightened manner; my goats began
to seek for shelter; the hens hid in the huts; the dogs also sought
shelter; and the people were returning in hot haste from the
plantations.
Every living thing seemed to know what was coming: even in the far
distance I could hear the roar of the gorilla.
The black spot gradually rose and formed a semicircle, while now and
then the distant sound of thunder came upon our ears, warning us of the
approaching storm.
At last not a breath of air could be detected, and in an instant a white
spot rose under the black horizon, and instantaneously scattered it into
a thousand clouds. How wild and lurid the sky suddenly appeared! In less
than two minutes it was one mass of blackness, the clouds fleeing with
terrible velocity, driven away by the white spot, which now increased to
huge dimensions. The tops of the trees began to sway rapidly, and before
we knew it the fearful wind was upon us. Our little houses were
unroofed, and the wind came with a violence that was quite appalling.
The limbs of the trees broke down first, then the trees themselves, and
as they fell each brought down half a dozen others with it, which in
falling occasioned a booming sound that resounded from hill to hill. The
monkeys became frightened, and their wild chattering indicated that they
were filled with terror. It was indeed a wild and terrible spectacle.
Flashes of lightning were followed by terrific claps of thunder. The
first clap brought me upon my feet, for I thought the lightning must
have struck some of us. I was almost blinded by the flash. What a
terrific report followed! It came on sudden and sharp like the firing of
a cannon, and made my ears ring and ring till I thought I should be
deafened.
[Illustration: A NIGHT STORM IN AFRICA.]
[Sidenote: _THUNDER AND LIGHTNING._]
This was followed by other terrific claps of thunder and flashes of
lightning which seemed to illuminate the whole sky, accompanied by a
pouring rain, a rain so dense that one might have fancied the skies to
have been rent in two. Finally the wind ceased, and, thank God! had only
lasted about ten minutes, though turning all round the compass. The
rain, thunder and lightning still continued. Such a storm I had seldom
witnessed even in this region of thunder and tornado. Wherever I turned,
the bright light in the skies met my eyes: from the West to the North,
from the North to the East, and from the East to the South.
The flashes of lightning were horizontal, of tremendous glare and
length, and zigzag; sometimes they were perpendicular. For hours and
hours the boom of thunder went on, fearful claps bursting from every
corner of the sky without intermission. There was scarcely a moment’s
interval between the reports. I took special pains to notice this fact.
The sound of the thunder seemed to come from all round the sky; the
whole of the heavens seemed to be a sea of fire. What could be more
sublime, in the whole domain of Nature, than this grand storm in these
equatorial regions of Africa? It was worth coming from our milder
climate to see it, to behold this war of the elements, to hear such
claps of thunder, to see such torrents of rain pouring down.
Though filled with awe and a dread of I did not know what, I looked on
till my eyes were almost blinded; I listened and listened until my ears
were deafened by the appalling noise of the thunder. I am certain that
no country can boast of more fearful thunder than these equatorial and
mountainous regions of Western Africa.
At last, after a few hours, the claps of thunder became less terrible,
and there were greater intervals between the flashes of lightning, which
began to diminish in brightness. Gradually the storm ceased, the clouds
disappeared, and the bluest of skies was disclosed overhead. What a deep
blue it was; how beautiful, how lovely, how pure, and how serene!
O God, how great thou art! I said to myself. What is man that thou
lookest down upon him? He is a creature of thy hands.
The stars shone with all their brightness. At that time of the year the
southern heaven was in its full beauty. All the constellations of the
Southern Hemisphere were in view, and the whole sky seemed to be in a
perfect blaze of light. How beautiful and resplendent the Milky Way
looked! Being not far from the equator, I could see also many of the
northern constellations.
The constellation of the Great Bear was in full sight, and reminded me
of my northern home, of dear friends, of joys that have gone, of
friendships which distance could not kill, of boys and girls I knew, and
I wondered if sometimes they thought of me as I thought of them.
I was wet through; for our fires had been extinguished and we had the
greatest trouble to light them again; and during the night nothing was
heard but the mournful cries of the owl and now and then the
disagreeable howl of the hyena.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XII.
A CREEK INFESTED BY SNAKES.—SNAKE IN THE BOAT.—AN UGLY VISITOR.
It is intensely hot. We are at the end of the month of March, and the
rays of the sun are pouring upon us with a power which is terrific.
Every two or three minutes I dip my umbrella into the water, for after
this lapse of time it is perfectly dry; green leaves and a wet
handkerchief are in my Panama hat, which now and then I also dip into
the water of the stream.
You will ask me in what kind of country I find myself in such a plight.
I am in a very complicated network of creeks, swamps, dense forest, and
overflowed lands, forming a delta, which in the work I published in 1861
I named the Delta of the Ogobai. For several days I have been here in a
canoe exploring the country by water. What a lonely place! We have not
seen a single village, we have met not a single human being; it is a
complete desolation, and on the day in question it seemed more desolate
than usual. The creek we had got into was narrow, and on both sides
there was an interminable forest of palms, that kind which yields bitter
nuts to eat; these grow to the water’s edge and many of their graceful
branches are bathed in the stream.
The current was strong, and evidently a tremendous quantity of fresh
water coming from the interior was carried by it into the sea.
The atmosphere was hazy, and, as is generally the case in those
equatorial regions, I could see the vapor arising and quivering as it
ascended.
At last we entered a narrow creek, where the current was not so strong.
We had hardly proceeded two or three miles when snakes became quite
abundant in the water. We were in the Creek of Snakes. I do not know
what else to call it.
What a horrid sight! They were of all colors and sizes: some were small
and slender, others short and thick. One peculiar kind struck me at once
as one that I had never seen before. It swam not far from our canoe, and
appeared to be of a bright orange-yellow color. I am sure it was a very
venomous one, one whose bite would kill a man in less than five minutes,
for the head was very triangular. Then came a large black one with a
yellow stripe on the belly; it appeared to me to be ten feet long; the
black shone as if it had been oiled. This fellow I also knew to be very
poisonous; so when he raised his head above the water I sent a load of
small shot into it, literally crushing it to pieces. Then we went
immediately at him, and with a few strokes of the paddles we finished
him up. I was going to make off, when two of the slaves who were of our
party said we must put it in our canoe, and that they should eat the
fellow in the evening. This created a great laugh from my Commi boys,
and after making sure that the loathsome creature was dead we fished him
out of the water. There was at first a jumping about of the men which I
was afraid would upset the canoe, in which case we would have been in a
pretty fix, swimming about in a stream filled with snakes. At last order
was restored; the snake was cut into several pieces, which continued to
move and almost appeared like several separate snakes. The pieces were
put in a basket, and the eyes of my Apingis began to shine with delight,
and it made their mouths water, they said, to think of the nice meal
they were going to have in the evening.
[Illustration: IN THE CREEK OF SNAKES.]
[Sidenote: _IN THE CREEK OF SERPENTS._]
Just at this moment I spied one of these black snakes trying to get into
our canoe by the bow. I made a tremendous leap, as if I had been bitten
by a scorpion, the sight was so sudden. I took my gun, loaded with small
shot—the best load to kill serpents with—and fired, cutting the saucy
fellow in two; then we paddled on, leaving master snake to take care of
himself, knowing that his case had been settled.
I really believe all the snakes of the country had come to bathe in this
creek on that day, and I did not wonder at it, it was so hot and sultry.
I had often met with snakes in the river before, but never in such great
numbers and of so many different species. In little more than one hour
and a half I must have seen two hundred of them. I had never seen such a
sight before and never have since.
Snakes are nasty things! I do not like them at all. They will never be
my pets. But there is a country in the Bight of Benin where snakes can
not be killed, under penalty of death.
The sun began to go down, and as we paddled along we looked for a dry
place on the shore where we might spend the night. The snakes had
disappeared, and none were to be seen in the water. Of that circumstance
I was very glad.
To find a dry place was not an easy matter, for the land was low,
swampy, and overflowed. The prospect of sleeping in the canoe and of
being eaten up by musquitoes was not very cheering to my spirits. But
the men knew a place where all the year round there was a dry spot, and
where they often stopped when fishing; but we must pull very hard in
order to reach there before dark. As none of us wished to sleep in the
canoe, the fellows paddled as hard as they could, and by half-past five
o’clock we reached the place.
It was sunset at six o’clock, so that we had plenty of time to fix our
camp.
The place was dreary enough and not very safe, to judge from the
foot-prints of wild beasts that had come prowling about there, among
which I could see distinctly the tracks of what must have been an
enormous leopard. Happily we had plenty of fire-wood in our canoe.
[Sidenote: _CAMPING OUT._]
The spot where we were to spend the night was miserable: the ground was
damp, and it was also dirty, for there were bones of fishes and wild
animals, the skins of plantains scattered all over, and the remains of
extinguished fires. The whole country seemed to be nothing but bog land.
The first thing we did was to attend to our musquito-nets. We cut the
large branches of the palm and stuck four of them into the ground to
hang our nets upon. How to sleep? this was the next great question. I
did not like the idea of sleeping on the bare ground in a country where
snakes were abundant. But what was to be done? It was getting late, so
reluctantly I cut the leaves of the palm, put them thick one upon the
other, and then laid my mat over the whole; my men did the same; the
fires were lighted—about which we had some trouble, for my matches were
wet. During the day, it being so warm, I had been afraid to carry them
in my pocket or put them in a place where the sun shone, for fear that
they would light of themselves. I had therefore placed them under the
seat, and they had dropped down to the bottom of the canoe. So we had to
use our flints and tinder.
When night came our fires were blazing, and the sight of our camp was
curious in the extreme. I was quietly lying between two immense fires,
which almost surrounded me, for I had a lively fear of the snakes and I
did not like the idea of one coming round me at night. It is strange how
it is possible to enjoy a fire in the woods in this damp and warm
climate.
My men killed one of the three fowls I had with me; others took off the
skins from the plantains, while the rest were preparing to boil the dry
fish which we had in great abundance, for before entering the Delta of
the Ogobai we had gone on a fishing excursion.
Our cooking implements consisted of a kettle for boiling the plantains,
which, by the way, was getting to be much worn out, and my men were
beginning to look forward to the time when it should be broken so that I
would give it to them to make bracelets of; and two cooking-pots, one
especially for my use and the other for the use of the men; I also had a
frying-pan, but nothing had been fried in it since I had it, for want of
lard or oil. Our entire cooking operations consisted of boiling or
roasting over a charcoal fire.
The two poor fellows with the snake had no pot to cook it in, my Commi
men objecting strongly to have any thing of the kind cooked in such a
vessel. The Apingis were much downhearted, for they had anticipated much
pleasure from their snake-broth, the snake being, they said, very fat.
They had on hand a little salt and a little Cayenne pepper. It would
have tasted so good! So they had to be satisfied with roasting the snake
over the fire.
After our meal I opened my chest to get some tobacco. This of course
“brought down the house,” and they seemed perfectly happy after their
hard day’s work, for the poor fellows had worked very hard.
They seated themselves round the fires, smoked their pipes, and
gradually one by one fell asleep. It was a fortunate thing we had
musquito-nets, for I could hear these insects buzzing about in such a
manner that one might have almost thought a band of music was playing in
the neighborhood.
[Sidenote: _SNAKES BY NIGHT._]
At length I wrapped myself well in my blanket and went to sleep. But lo!
in the middle of the night I was awakened by the cackling of one of the
fowls, which was tied by the leg to a stick we had put on the ground. I
popped my head out of my musquito-net, when I beheld by the glow of the
fire an enormous python (or snake), a tremendous big fellow, who had
just come out of the water and was about to gobble up one of the two
fowls, and would have swallowed both of them if it had had time to do
so. No others were aroused by the noise the fowls made, so I quietly
took my gun that laid alongside of me, and sent two loads into the
python, which settled him.
My men jumped up in alarm, seized their guns, and looked as warlike as
possible. They thought we were attacked unawares by some Oroungou
fellows, and set up a wild yell of defiance, which was responded to by a
most hearty laugh on my part. In the mean time the defeated boa had
moved about in the midst of us and sent all the fellows off, just as
they were asking, “Who has been killed by that gun?” and I shouted in
reply, “This enormous snake.”
My two Apingi fellows’ eyes brightened as they thought of the good food
they were going to have, and said—“Ah! ah! if we had only known we
should have brought a cooking-pot of our own; we would have had such
nice snake-broth all the time!” This snake measured almost sixteen feet
in length, and would have kept the fellows in broth for a long while.
We went to sleep again, leaving the two Apingis busily engaged in
cutting the boa into small pieces and in roasting some of it over the
fire.
The next morning when I awoke the sun was bright; a kind of vapor was
rising from the waters of the Delta of the Ogobai, and all Nature was
still. I could not hear the song of a single bird or the chatter of a
single monkey; now and then a fishing-eagle passed over our heads, and
the whole scene presented was one of desolation.
We cooked our breakfast, and immediately after our meal we again set out
and soon entered a very narrow creek—so narrow in some places that the
trees on the two banks were so close together that we had trouble in
passing through with our canoe; in one place I thought it would be
utterly impossible.
At last we emerged into the waters of the Npouloulay and soon after
found ourselves on the broad and placid waters of the Fernand Vaz,
coming in sight of my settlement at Washington.
A thrill of joy filled my heart when I saw my little settlement, for I
was tired and worn out, and I needed a little rest—a little comfort in a
plain way. I wanted to see my plantation, to see how it had grown since
we parted, and if my stock of fowls had increased by new broods, or I
could get a little milk from my goats. Then I wanted to see good King
Ranpano and his brother Rinkimongani and all the good folks of Biagano.
They were there on the shore ready to receive me. They were honest,
straightforward people.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XIII.
DRINKING THE MBOUNDOU.—HOW OLANGA-CONDO COULD DO IT.—HOW THE MBOUNDOU IS
MADE.—THE EFFECT OF THE POISON.
What a wild scene I beheld; one which had never been seen before by any
white man!
Olanga-Condo, a mighty _ouganga_ (doctor), was to drink the _mboundou_.
What an awful poison this _mboundou_ is! Nevertheless, Olanga-Condo
could drink it; yes, he could drink it by bowlfuls, one of which was
more than sufficient to kill any man or woman.
You will ask me, How is it that Olanga-Condo could drink this _mboundou_
and that other people could not? I suppose he accustomed his body to it
by drinking it little by little from his childhood, but of course he
would not tell any one how he could drink it without being hurt.
The strange scene took place at Goumbi.
King Quengueza had a dream, and in that dream he saw that there were
people who were _aniemba_ (wizards), and who wished to take his life. So
he rose in the morning possessed with the belief that such designs were
entertained against him. His already stern countenance became harsher,
and the good old chief began to dread those around him. It was useless
for me to tell him that there were no such people as wizards, and that
no living being had power to kill another by witchcraft.
He became suspicious of his dearest friends. His nearest relatives, he
thought; were those who wanted to get rid of him in order to get his
wives, slaves, ivory, and goods.
What a terrible superstition this belief in witchcraft is! The father
dreads his children, the son his father and mother, the man his wife,
and the wives their husbands. A man fancies himself sick; he imagines
the sickness has been brought upon him by those who want him out of the
way, and at last becomes sick through his fears. At night he fancies
himself surrounded by the _aniemba_ who are prowling round his huts, and
that evil spirits are ready to enter into him as he comes out; and if
this should happen he believes that disease and death are surely near.
So Quengueza covered himself with fetiches, and every day invoked the
spirits of his ancestors—Igoumbai, Ricati, Kombi, and Niavi (his
mother)—to protect him from the _aniemba_. How strangely his voice
sounded in the silence of the night! One could not but be awed by it.
Every morning he told the wonderful and frightful dreams he had—for
these people believe in dreams—and he was so convinced that the village
was full of wicked sorcerers, that at last the whole people became
infected by his fears, each one thinking that his life was at stake.
Hence the _ouganga_, Olanga-Condo, had been ordered by the King to drink
the _mboundou_, and then tell the names of the sorcerers.
The leading people of Goumbi had met, and protested that no one wanted
to bewitch their king; they all wanted him to live to the end of time.
Now they all sat in a circle on the ground; each man had a short stick
in his hand; and Olanga-Condo was to take his position in the centre and
drink the _mboundou_ in their presence.
[Sidenote: _HOW THE MBOUNDOU IS MADE._]
In the mean time I had assisted in the operation of making the
_mboundou_, an operation which the drinker does not witness. A few red
roots of the plant called by them the _mboundou_ were brought in, and
the bark was scraped off by several of the natives into a vessel; into
this a pint of water was poured, and in about a minute fermentation took
place, and the beverage effervesced almost like champagne. The water
soon became quite red, and was the very color of the bark when the
effervescing ceased. Two of Olanga-Condo’s friends were present during
this operation to see that all was fair.
[Illustration: DRINKING THE MBOUNDOU.]
When the mixture was ready Olanga-Condo came, went to the centre of the
circle, and the bowl containing the poison was banded to him: without
faltering for a single moment, but full of faith, he emptied the bowl at
one draught.
In about five minutes the poison took effect. He began to stagger about;
his eyes were injected; his limbs twitched convulsively; his voice grew
thick; his veins showed themselves prominently, and his muscles
contracted. His whole behavior was that of a drunken man. He began to
babble wildly, and then it was supposed that the inspiration was upon
him. The people beat regularly upon the ground with the short sticks
they held, and sang in a sort of doleful voice—
“If he is a witch, let the _mboundou_ kill him,
If he is not, let the _mboundou_ go out.”
Then at times Layibirie, Quengueza’s heir, and his nephews, Quabi,
Adouma, and Rapeiro, asked if there was any man that wanted to bewitch
King Quengueza.
Olonga-Condo went on talking wildly, not answering the questions, which
were repeated over and over again. At last he said—“Yes; some one is
trying to bewitch the King.”
Then came the query, “Who?”
By this time the poor fellow was fortunately hopelessly tipsy, and
incapable of reasonable speech. He babbled some unintelligible jargon,
and presently the inquest was declared at an end.
No persons had been accused, hence nobody was to be killed. But
sometimes these doctors do mention names, and one of these days I may
give you an account of murders committed in the name of witchcraft.
[Sidenote: _MURDERS ON ACCOUNT OF WITCHCRAFT._]
The _mboundou_ is a dreadful poison,[1] one from which very few escape.
Sometimes the veins of the victim will burst open, at other times blood
will flow from his nose and eyes, and he drops dead a few minutes after
drinking it. Hence the great power of the doctor. If a poor fellow is
supposed to be a wizard, or to have bewitched the King or somebody else,
he is forced to drink the _mboundou_ whether he likes it or not. If the
man dies, he is declared a witch; if he survives, he is declared
innocent, and those who have accused him pay him a fine.
Footnote 1:
This _mboundou_ pretty certainly belongs to a natural order that
contains many venomous plants, viz., the LOGANIACEÆ; and, from the
peculiar veining of the leaves, it is probably a species of
_Strychnos_, belonging to that section of the genus which includes _S.
nux vomica_.
The taste of the infusion is extremely bitter. I gave some of the
roots to Professor John Torrey, of New York. In the book published by
the Messrs. Harper, called “Explorations in Equatorial Africa,” I
published the letter this able chemist wrote me on the properties of
the _mboundou_.
The ordeal is much dreaded by the negroes, who often run away from home
and stay away all their lives rather than submit to it, and will often
rather enslave themselves to another tribe.
When the wizards are said to belong to another village, then wars
frequently ensue. The man thought guilty is demanded to drink the
_mboundou_, while his friends, who know that he will probably die,
refuse to give him up.
This belief in witchcraft is the great curse of Africa. According to
this doctrine, every man that dies has been bewitched by some one. Death
came into the world by witchcraft. For almost every man that dies
somebody is killed, and often several persons are killed.
The women being deemed of very little account in this part of the world,
it is very seldom that at the death of one of them any body is killed.
These poor heathen think no torture cruel enough to inflict upon a
wizard. Sometimes the accused will be tied to a tree and burned by a
slow fire; at other times they will bind him and put him in the track of
an army of bashikouay ants.
I remember the horrid sight I met one day; it made my blood freeze all
over. I shall never forget the scene as long as I live. I was hunting in
the woods for birds, when I spied two green pigeons (_treron
nudirostris_), which I wanted for my collection of birds. By dint of
great exertions I penetrated the jungle to the foot of the tree, when
lo! a ghastly sight met my eyes. It was the corpse of a woman, young
evidently, and with features once mild and amiable. She had been tied up
here, on some infernal accusation of witchcraft, and tortured with a
cruelty which would have done honor to the Inquisition.
The torture consisted in the laceration of the flesh all over the body,
and fresh Cayenne pepper had been rubbed in the gashes. A cold
perspiration covered my body; my eyes became dim; “Was it a dream?” I
asked myself. The devil himself could not have displayed more ingenuity
in torture. I approached the corpse. It was cold. The poor girl was
dead. What terrible sufferings she must have endured!
Will you think hard of me when I say to you that I felt I could go into
that village of wild men and shoot every one of them?
[Sidenote: _A SPECIMEN OF TORTURE._]
_Aniemba!_ What a terrible meaning that word possesses in the mind of
the poor African of Equatorial Africa! To be bewitched is almost certain
death. What an awful superstition! It leads to the most inhuman and
abominable acts of cruelty.
How many I have seen of these acts! what refinement of barbarism I have
seen displayed! what numbers of poor innocent creatures I have seen
slain! what numbers of families have in this way been made unhappy!
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XIV.
A ROYAL FEAST.—ON THE BANKS OF THE OVENGA.—PREPARATIONS.—THE BILL OF
FARE.—A TASTE OF ELEPHANT AND A MOUTHFUL OF MONKEY.
A royal feast is to be given to me: a real feast, where the King is
going to show me what are the splendors of his kitchen department. That
feast is to take place in the equatorial regions of Western Africa, on
the banks of the Ovenga River.
King Obindji is to give the repast. My friend King Quengueza and myself
will be the guests at the feast, and it promises to be a great affair.
For some time past hunters have gone into the forest to kill and trap
game, fishermen have been catching fish, and the women have been
watching their plantain-trees and their cassada plantations, while the
boys have been scouring the forest to look after wild fruits.
A good deal of pottery has been manufactured, so that they may have
plenty of cooking-pots. Earthen jars have also been made in great
numbers, so that vessels for palm wine may be abundant. The women have
also worked steadily in making mats, so that many might be spread on the
ground. Several boloko have been made. What a strange kind of arm-chair
those bolokos are! King Obindji delights to rest upon one. A large shade
has been built, so that Quengueza and myself will have plenty of room.
Oralas are abundant, and meat has been smoked in abundance during these
last few days.
[Sidenote: _PREPARATIONS._]
At last the day of the feast has come. There is a great stir in the
village. The hunters have all returned, the men have also come back from
their fishing excursion, and for the last few days a great quantity of
palm wine has been collected. Bakalai chiefs have come from all the
surrounding country, with a great number of their wives and of their
people; they are all scattered about over the little olakas round the
village. After the feast a grand palaver is to come off, and the affairs
of the country will be discussed. Friend Quengueza seems to be the King
of the Kings, for they all show him great marks of respect.
Toward noon the tables are set. Do not think for a moment that I mean
real tables; I mean the mats are laid on the ground. Under our shade
several mats are put, and many are scattered under the trees round.
Quengueza and I are to eat under the shade, the other chiefs under the
trees.
The drums begin to beat, wild songs are sung, and there is a great stir.
The wives of the King have all turned cooks, and are all busy; the
village seems to be in a blaze of smoke, for every thing is cooking, and
soon the repast is to be ready.
All sorts of pleasant odors are coming out of these pots: what curious
dishes some of them will be!
The drums are beating furiously again and again. Twenty of the King’s
wives have come out, each bringing a dish with her, which they deposit
on the mats.
Then Obindji came to Quengueza and to me, and bade us come and sit
before what was presented to us, and tasted of every dish to show us
that no food was poisoned, for such is the custom of the country.
What a curious bill of fare! I must give it to you, and I will try to
remember it all.
First, there was a huge pot containing an enormous piece of an elephant,
which had been boiling since the day before, so that the meat might be
tender. Another dish was the boiled smoked foot of an elephant, which
had been specially cooked for me, this being considered by many the best
piece.
Then came a large piece of boiled crocodile, the broth of which was
recommended to us, lemon juice and Cayenne pepper having been
bountifully mixed with it to give it a flavor. Then came a charming
monkey, which had been roasted entire on a blazing fire of charcoal. The
little fellow seemed to be nothing but a ball of fat, and looked
wonderfully like a roasted baby. It was cooked to perfection, and really
had a fine flavor.
Then a huge leg of a wild boar made its appearance, the flavor of which
was very high, and it must have been killed days before; but these
people like their game high; in fact, it is often decomposed when eaten.
Then came the boiled tongue of the _Bos brachicheros_, the wild buffalo.
Another dish was boiled buffalo ribs. This latter had been cooked with
the ndika, a kind of paste made from the seed of the wild mango fruit;
this was put close to me, Quengueza never touching the buffalo meat,
some of his ancestors having long ago given birth to a buffalo (at least
so he said), and his clan, the Abouya, never taste buffalo.
[Sidenote: _QUENGUEZA AS A GOURMAND._]
Then came a dish of smoked mongon (otter); another of antelope, called
kambi, and a beautiful little gazelle, called ncheri. These meats had
all been smoked a long time. In the centre there were two huge baskets
of plantains, which were to be used as bread.
Do not think this is the end of the bill of fare. The fishes are still
to come, as well as other African dainties.
An enormous dish of manatee was next brought in, which was immediately
followed by another dish of boiled mullet. Then came some land and water
turtles. I wondered why a boiled snake had not made its appearance, and
also some roast gorilla and chimpanzee, these to be surrounded by a few
mice and rats. But these are entirely Bakalai dishes, no Commi eating
those animals.
It was a sumptuous feast. Obindji was in his glory, and the drummers
sang, “Who can give such a feast to the Ntangani except Obindji? Obindji
has a fetich”—they continued singing—“that makes the wild beasts come to
him, the fish come to him, the white man come to him!”
Quengueza was seated on one side and I on the other, and round us stood
the twenty wives and Obindji’s slaves, to wait upon us. Quengueza, who
is a great gourmand, took a glance at every dish before him and
concluded that he would go into the manatee first, then he would follow
up with some fish, and then would pitch into the fat monkey, finishing
up with antelope; and he said to me, in his bland and kind manner, that
if there was room left he would eat some ncheri (gazelle), but he
intended specially to go into the wild boar and the manatee to his
heart’s content. “Then,” said he, close to my ear, “you will give me a
little glass of brandy.”
I thought I would taste a little of every thing, and bring my stomach to
its utmost capacity. Though it was against etiquette, for Obindji could
not eat with Quengueza, I told him we had better invite friend Obindji.
We called the good fellow, and made him sit with us amid the abundant
cheer round us, for all were as merry as they could be.
His Bakalai Majesty was quite proud to eat with a fork which I presented
him.
Since Obindji was to eat with us, an addition to the bill of fare—a dish
of boiled gorilla—came for his especial benefit; also a dish made of
part of a large snake cooked in leaves, the smell of which made
Obindji’s mouth water.
The people all round us were eating. The first mouthful I put into my
mouth caused cheer after cheer to go up. “The ntanga is eating! The
ntanga is eating of the elephant!” For I thought I would begin with King
Elephant.
It was a pretty tough piece of meat, I assure you; the grain was very
coarse, and the meat was somewhat tasteless and rather dry. The boiled
elephant’s foot was better, and I rather liked it. The elephant meat I
did not like; it was really too tough.
Obindji recommended to me a bit of crocodile, and the wife who had
cooked it said she had been very careful that there was plenty of
Cayenne pepper and of lemon juice, and she was sure the broth was
excellent. I must say I did not like the idea of eating of the
crocodile, but I wanted to know how it tasted. The flesh was very
white—somewhat fishy, I thought—and the grain of the meat coarse. I did
not like either the broth or meat. The former was so terribly hot with
Cayenne pepper that it tasted of nothing else. I was glad to get through
with the crocodile.
[Sidenote: _MONKEY, BOAR, AND BUFFALO MEAT._]
The monkey was perfectly delicious; I had not enjoyed any thing so much
for a long time, despite his looking so much like a roasted baby. I am
sure no venison at home could have tasted better.
The wild boar was so terribly high that I backed out, but friend
Quengueza thought it was exquisite; and when he had finished eating it,
he told Obindji’s head-wife to keep what was left for him, as he
intended to eat the whole of it. At the same time he got up as if he
wanted to stiffen himself for more food, and then sat down, saying that
he was ready to go on again.
Just for fun I offered to friend Quengueza a piece of the tongue of the
buffalo and part of his boiled rib. The old chief recoiled, for none of
his clan (the Abouya), as I have said, can eat of this meat, for they
have a legend that once one of their clan gave birth to such an animal;
and if they were to eat of it disease would creep upon them, they would
die, and their women would give birth again to such a monster. Quengueza
told Obindji that the vessels that cooked the buffalo must be broken,
for fear that his wives might cook his food in them.
Every clan has some kind of animal they do not eat. Quengueza assured me
that when a boy he saw a woman who had given birth to a crocodile. I
scarcely touched the buffalo meat; the otter I did not like. When I came
to the antelope my appetite had gone, to my great sorrow, for I am very
fond of this dish. I finished up my dinner with a slice of pine-apple. I
doubt very much if a more curious dinner could be given anywhere.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XV.
THE TERRIBLE BASHIKOUAY.—MARCH OF AN ANT ARMY.—THEY BUILD BRIDGES.—THEY
ENTER HOUSES.—THEIR HABITS.
One day I was plodding along in the vast forest in search of game, and
was suddenly startled by a strange noise falling upon my ears. I heard
the footsteps of wild beasts running away. I thought even that I saw the
glimpse of a gorilla; I certainly heard distinctly the footsteps of an
elephant soon after. At last I heard at a great distance a mighty crash
as if elephants were running at great speed through the forest, breaking
every thing before them.
What can all this mean? I asked myself; and I knew not why, but a vague
feeling of awe began to creep over me. I knew that something strange
must have happened or was coming. Were we going to have an earthquake?
It could not be a tornado, for we were in the beginning of the dry
season.
[Sidenote: _THE BASHIKOUAY ANT._]
Finally the insects which had begun to fly at the beginning of this
tumult now grew thicker and thicker, when suddenly I was annoyed by
fearful bites, and in less time than I have taken to write I was covered
by a kind of ants called by the Bakalais _Bashikouay_. I leaped and fled
with the utmost haste in the same direction the insects and beasts had
taken. An army of bashikouay ants was advancing, and devouring every
living thing in its way. I was almost crazy, for they were in my clothes
and on my body, and often when they gave a bite a little piece of flesh
would come out.
When I thought I was out of reach I immediately took off my clothes.
They had, in their fury, literally buried themselves in these, and their
pincers were deep into them; and like the fierce bull-dog of our own
country, when once they bite they never let go their hold; and many and
many a time their bodies were severed from their head as I pulled them
out; their pincers clung still to my flesh.
I defy any living man to stand quiet before an army of bashikouay; he
would certainly be killed and devoured. This was incontestably the
largest army of bashikouay I have ever seen, and how it swept over the
forest, driving every thing before it!
These little ants are more powerful when combined in such an army than
any living thing in the forest. All other animate things are put to
flight before their march. It is only in the interior that one can have
an idea of their number.
I dressed myself again, and began to breathe freely, when lo! these
bashikouay were again coming in my direction. So I fled, striking for a
path that led to a stream, and at last reached the wet and swampy
grounds, which I knew they would not care to approach if they continued
to spread and advance in the direction I had taken.
How many and how many times I have been disturbed by these ants in the
forests of Africa!
Of all the ants which inhabit the regions I have explored, the most
dreaded of all is the bashikouay; it is very abundant, and is the most
voracious creature I have ever met. It is the dread of all living
animals, from the elephant and the leopard down to the smallest insect.
At the end of this chapter is the drawing of an ordinary bashikouay,
taken by the artist from one of the four I had with me.
No wonder that the animal and insect world flies before them! And now I
am going to say a good deal of what I know about them; if I should tell
you all, the account would appear so incredible that perhaps you would
say it must be untrue; but I write this book to instruct you, and to
show you that the ways of Nature are wonderful.
These bashikouay, so far as I have been able to observe, do not build a
nest or house of any kind; they wander throughout the year, and seem
never to have any rest. They are on the march day and night. I never saw
them carry any thing away; they devour every thing on the spot.
It is their habit to march through the forests in a long regular line,
just as soldiers would do, and with quite as much order and regularity.
The line is about two inches broad, and must be often several miles in
length. All along this line are larger ants, who act as officers,
standing outside the ranks, and keeping this singular army in order.
These officers stand generally with their heads facing their
subordinates. They remain thus until their squads have passed, and then
join them, while others take their place.
[Sidenote: _UNDERGROUND TUNNELS._]
The number of a large army is so great that I should not even dare to
enter into a calculation. I have seen one continual line passing at good
speed a particular place for twelve hours. It was sunrise when I saw
them, and it was only a little before sunset that their numbers began to
diminish. An hour before the end of the column came, it was not so
compact, and I could see that these were the stragglers; and many of
these stragglers also seemed to be of a smaller size: they were
evidently tired. When I saw them in the morning I did not know how long
since this vast army of bashikouay had begun their march. This was the
largest column I ever saw. You may imagine how many millions on millions
there must have been included in this column. I have seen much smaller
columns on the march, but it generally required several hours for them
to pass.
Strange as it may seem, these ants can not bear the heat of the sun,
hence they could not be found in a country where the forests are scarce.
If they come to a place where there are no trees to shelter them from
the sun, they immediately build underground tunnels, through which the
whole army passes in column to the forest beyond. These tunnels are four
or five feet underground, and are only used during the heat of the day.
I have noticed that these open spaces are often passed by them during
the night to the forest beyond.
I suppose that these underground tunnels must be numerous; I do not see
how otherwise the ants could protect themselves against the heavy rains.
I have never seen them lying drowned on the ground after a storm. Hence
they must know, when a storm is coming, how to disappear; and generally
after a heavy rain these armies are more numerous in the forest, for
they probably come in quest of food, of which they have been deprived
during their subterranean marches. They always attack with a fury which
passes description. Where the soil is sandy, no bashikouay can be found.
When they get hungry the long file spreads and scatters itself through
the forest in a front line: how the order reaches from one extremity of
the line to the other almost at the same time I can not tell. Then they
attack and devour all that comes within their reach with a fury and
voracity which is quite astonishing. As I have said, the elephant and
gorilla fly before this attack; the leopard disappears from his den; the
black men run away for their lives; for who would dare to stand still
before such an army? In a very short time any adversary would be
overpowered, and I am sure that in about two or three hours nothing
would be left of the opposition. Antelopes which I have killed have been
stripped of every bit of flesh in that time. At times, when they have
spread themselves, they do not advance with rapidity, but seem to go in
a rambling sort of a way.
It is said that now and then a man is put to death in the following
manner. He is tied to a tree which is in the path of this bashikouay
army. What a terrible death it must be!
[Sidenote: _THE ATTACK._]
Every animal that lives on the line of march where they have spread is
pursued, and, though instinct seems to indicate the forthcoming danger,
many are caught. In an incredibly short space of time the mouse, the
insect, and many small animals are overwhelmed, killed, eaten, and their
bare skeletons only remain. If they ever get into a fowl-house, it is
all over with the fowls. The insects seem to be the greatest sufferers.
The ants seem to understand and act upon the tactics of Napoleon, and
concentrate with great speed their heaviest forces upon the point of
attack. They must certainly understand each other; but how, we shall
never be able to know. Surely there must be commanders for these vast
hordes of soldier ants, for when in a line on the march not one will
leave the ranks, even though the insects, which they would devour in an
instant when spread for a raid, are close by. It is but seldom that they
are able to capture antelopes, for these animals run away too fast for
them.
[Illustration: MARCH OF BASHIKOUAY ANTS.]
As I have said before, they travel night and day. Many a time some of
you who have perused my books may have read that I have been roused from
sleep and obliged to rush from the hut, sometimes into the water, or at
other times have been obliged to protect myself with fires, or by
spreading hot ashes or boiling water around me. Often I have suffered
terribly from their advanced guard, who had got into my clothes, and who
would not get out, and soon managed to get on my body.
When they enter a house they clear it of all living things. Roaches are
devoured in an instant. Rats and mice spring round the room in vain. An
overwhelming force of ants kills a strong rat in less than a minute or
two, and in an incredibly short time, despite the most frantic
struggles, its bones are stripped. Every living thing in the house is
devoured. Centipedes, scorpions, small spiders can not escape, and of
this I was glad. They will not touch vegetable matter. Thus they are in
reality very useful; for without them the insects would become so
numerous that man would not be able to live. I always rejoiced when they
got hold of a serpent, though these are pretty shy, and manage generally
to get out of the way, except when they are in a state of torpor.
When on the march the insect world flees before them, and, as you have
seen in the beginning of the chapter, I had the approach of a bashikouay
army heralded to me by this means. Wherever they go they make a clean
sweep, even ascending to the top of many small trees in search of birds’
nests, and to devour the young of caterpillars. They pursue their poor
prey with an unrelenting fury, and seem to be animated with the genius
of destruction. Their manner of attack is by an impetuous _leap_.
Instantly the strong pincers are fastened, and they only let go when the
piece seized upon gives way. If they were large they would certainly be
the most fearful creature man could ever encounter, and they would
destroy all the living creatures of the forest.
When on their line of march they often find little streams—which of
course are not very wide; they throw themselves across and form a
bridge, a living bridge, connected by two trees or high bushes on
opposite sides of the stream. This is done with great care, and is
effected by a great number of ants, each of which clings with his
fore-claws to his next neighbor’s body or hind-claws. Thus they form a
high, safe bridge, over which the whole vast regiment marches in regular
order. If disturbed, or if the bridge is broken by the violence of some
animal, they instantly attack the offender with the greatest animosity.
To find the place for these bridges must require a good deal of
sagacity. By one way or another they find a spot where on each side
there is a branch of a tree, almost always a dead one, that has fallen
on the ground, and which overlaps the stream. Often in falling this tree
has broken in two pieces, and the piece on the other side almost joins
it. The branch on the further side must be lower on the ground, so that,
as they form the bridge, they begin it from the higher side.
[Illustration: THE BASHIKOUAY ANT, MAGNIFIED TO TWICE ITS NATURAL SIZE.]
[Sidenote: _VARIOUS SPECIES._]
These bashikouay do smell things a long way off, and they are guided by
their sense of smell. They are quite large, often the ordinary-sized
ones being half an inch long, and are armed with very powerful fore-legs
and large strong jaws, or nippers, with which they bite. The head is
almost if not quite as large as the body; the large ones are almost one
inch in length. The kind of which I have spoken is dark brown in color,
but I have found in the mountains of the interior a somewhat larger
species, almost black, and intensely voracious. Besides these two there
is still another species of bashikouay, which I have only met two or
three times in the mountains south of the equator. It is of a great
size, at least double the size of the one I have just spoken to you
about. The body is grayish-white in color, the head of reddish-black;
its fangs are very powerful, and it is able to make a clean bite out of
one’s legs. It is thus a very formidable animal, but fortunately its
motions are not as quick as those of its fierce brother; for if they
were, I do not know what would become of a man in the midst of such an
army. It does not march in such vast armies, nor does it precipitate
itself upon its prey with such an irresistible fury. In its motions it
is almost sluggish. They do not invade villages, or climb trees in
pursuit of prey, and they are not so voracious as their fellows before
mentioned. If they were, they would doubtless clear the country of every
living thing, for they are much more powerful. They are, in fact, to the
other ants what whales are to fish. If as ferocious, they would
depopulate the country, and would themselves have to starve and then
disappear.
Now I have told you about the bashikouay, and feel that I could tell you
more; and you may rely implicitly on what I have said, for what I have
written is from very close observation. I wish this record of the
bashikouay to stand.
Some day civilization may reach Equatorial and Central Africa; then the
forest will give place to open fields, and the bashikouay ant will
disappear, for it can not bear an open country. Such is the order of
nature which God has created, that when a race of men or beasts has gone
it will never come back. The mastodon, and those gigantic animals and
reptiles which once were, have never reappeared.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SORROWS OF THE BIRDS.—CURIOUS AFRICAN BIRDS.—THE BARBATULA DU
CHAILLUI.—THE BARBATULA FULIGINOSA.—THE SYCOBIUS NIGERRIMUS.
Now I must speak to you of little birds!
I do love birds. They are Nature’s beautiful creatures.
They are one of God’s loveliest creations.
They cheer us in our lonely hours, when from their bowers their songs
come upon our ears and gladden our hearts. Their melodies have often
told me how happy they were, and how much one bird loved the other. They
are the poets of nature.
Oh, little birds, I have often wondered how many sorrows you have! Pain
I know you have. The shrill cries and plaintive notes I have often heard
from you have told me that your little breasts felt the pangs of
anguish. The hurried flights which I have often watched have said how
anxious you were.
In our Northern climes, when the leaves have withered, when the cold
winds blow, when the snow covers the earth, I know that you suffer from
hunger, and I feel so sorry for you. When you come by the window you
seem to say—“Do feed me, for I am so hungry and so cold!”
I have crossed the seas, and hundreds of miles away from land I have
seen you, in your forlorn flight, looking in vain for the way that might
lead to a land where your poor little bodies and tired wings and tiny
little feet could find rest. The storm and the winds had carried you
away from the land where you were accustomed to rejoice and sing, and
taken you above that ocean on which you looked with such dread, and
which is always ready to engulf you. You were so tired that you had not
even the strength to utter your cries. How then I pitied you, for I
thought of the days and sleepless nights you had spent over the vast
sea! how weary those little wings of yours were! how painful must have
been each effort you made to support you in the air. How sad must have
been your thoughts, for you could see nothing to guide you to that place
you longed to reach!
I have seen you when the good ship was close at hand. How welcome its
sight seemed to be to you, who had suffered so much from thirst, hunger,
and starvation, fatigue and exhaustion! and, as I watched your coming, I
could detect joy and fear; for how strange the vessel appeared to you,
how strange its ropes, how strange its sails.
[Sidenote: _DEATH OF THE BIRDS._]
When I have thought its masts and ropes would afford you rest, and seen
you ready to reach them, you have dropped on the waves to rise no more.
How you struggled before you came to this! You almost touched the water,
when another effort would send you flying high above the sea; then again
your flight became weaker; gradually you came down and made another
frantic effort to escape by flight. At last you seemed not to know any
longer what you were doing, and despite all your valiant struggles for
life your doom came, and you dropped into the waves; and as the vessel
sailed away I left you to your sad fate. At other times you fell on
deck, for you were not strong enough to perch. Then how your bright
little eyes became dim, for the touch of death was soon to close them,
despite the care and the little water I would give you. How sweetly you
looked as you laid still in the embrace of death! The storms of your
life were over, your sorrows were ended, and your merry songs were to be
heard no more in the groves you used to love. I know of nothing sweeter
to look at than a dead little bird! and yet there is nothing which more
pathetically touches my heart.
When the eagle, the hawk, and the falcon soar high in the sky, I know
that they are your enemies. When the snake glides from branch to branch
in search of your nest, to destroy your offspring, I know that pain will
reach your heart. When you and your mate are flying above the earth,
perchance a heartless sportsman appears, and with his gun brings one of
you down. How I have seen you follow the unfortunate one in its downward
flight! How painful to hear were your cries; how you tried to arrest the
fall of the poor wounded one, and how touching was the scene as you
soared and soared above the body of the little victim who had fallen on
the ground. So plaintive were your cries that they ought to have
disarmed the ruthless hand that separated you, so that he would say to
himself—“I will nevermore kill a harmless little bird, for God has given
them to us to cheer, to enliven the nature that surrounds us.” When
night comes, and your mate does not return, how anxious and sad you seem
to feel! Perhaps a cruel cat, or some wild animal has destroyed his
life. How often I have heard you call for the missing one, and could
detect despair in the tone of your voice!
When the young fall from the nest I have watched your anxiety, and when
danger threatened them I have seen you brace up your courage; and how
angry then you did look, with your little feathers all standing out as
if you were ready for a fight! When the storms had tumbled down the
little nest you had built with so much trouble, how distressed you
seemed to be, and how industrious you were to build another one! So,
little birdies, I found that, like man, you have your joys, your cares,
your troubles, and your sorrows. The stormy billows of life are also for
you. I love you the more for this. I wish I were a poet, so that my lyre
could sing songs to you, and I might tell you a softer tale than that
which the nightingale tells to us.
Dear little birds, I thank you for all the joys you have given me during
my wanderings. Your songs and melodies have often cheered me when
wearied and lonely. Your plumage I have admired, and often have I
exclaimed—“Little birds, how beautiful you are!” I thank you for the
many days I have passed pleasantly while watching you; for I love dearly
to look at you, to study your habits, to see how nice and loving you
are. Many times I have said to myself, when admiring you—“Little birdie,
do come to me, so that I may kiss thee and feel thy little beak upon my
lips.” O God, how kind to man thou art! for he is able to understand thy
works. The wonders of thy creation he can admire, so that he may praise
thee for thy goodness.
[Sidenote: _AFRICAN BIRDS._]
And now I will speak to you of some little birds of which we knew
nothing, of little birds that had no name, and wandered unknown to
civilized man, till he who has written this book saw them and brought
them here.
In a forest of Equatorial Africa, on the banks of the Ovenga River not
far from Obindji Village, there was a plantation where birds came every
day. There were many curious kind of birds there, and many I had never
seen before. The time to see them was early in the morning, before the
sun became so hot that they had to retire in the forest, or in the
afternoon after the sun was hidden by the hills. But the morning was the
best time. The natives had no name for many of these birds. Among the
most curious ones were the fly-catchers, the stranger bee-eaters, the
queer crimpers, and some very strange woodpeckers; while flying over
them all were some nice little black swallows that were very pretty
indeed. I remember how much I loved in the morning to go over that
plantation and watch them all, so that I might learn their habits and
tell you something about them.
Among the strangest of them all there was one that especially attracted
my attention. As I approached the plantation I could hear, just on the
edge of the forest, a noise that sounded very much as if some far-away
people were hammering at something, or I should rather say, as if people
were hammering at a tree. I carefully approached the place. I am sure
you could not have heard my steps on the ground, so carefully I
approached. I was dressed in a dark-blue suit of cotton goods, so that
the birds might not notice me. At last I recognized the noise as coming
from old friends of mine. They were birds that were hammering at two or
three dead trees in such earnest that none of them observed me.
It was a very pretty sight! The country being nothing else than a
gigantic forest, of course, wherever a village or plantation is made,
the trees have to be cut down, and nearly all are cut from a height of
ten or fifteen feet. These in the course of time become dry, and after
being dead a sufficient time the wood softens, and becomes the object of
the attack of the beautiful little bird I am writing about. It is really
a beautiful bird, and was unknown before I brought it here. It has been
named the _Barbatula du Chaillui_. The throat and breast are of a glossy
blue-black color; the head is scarlet; a line of canary yellow from
above the eyes surrounds the neck, and the back, which is black, is
covered with canary yellow spots. Above the bill it has what might be
termed two little brushes.
The trunks of the trees on which they were so busily engaged were within
a few yards of the forest. These birds were hard at work with their
bills, pecking out circular openings about two inches in diameter. It
was a tedious operation, and now and then a little bird had to rest, or
its mate would come and take its place. Their little feet are
constructed like those of the woodpeckers, to whom they are somewhat
related, but their bill is much thicker, stronger, and shorter, hence
better adapted to make holes in the trunks of trees.
[Sidenote: _HOW THEY BUILD THEIR NESTS._]
It was very interesting to see them holding to the trees, sometimes with
their heads upward and sometimes with their heads downward. Some had
just begun to work at the aperture, others had already made a pretty
deep hole, and the end of their tail only could be seen, while still
others were working inside, and their bodies could not be seen at all,
though now and then they came forth, bringing the wood they had pecked
out.
[Illustration: THE BARBATULA WORKING.]
What difficult and patient toil! The making of one of these nests
requires many days. It is no easy work for birds a little bigger than a
sparrow to peck out a circular opening of two inches in diameter, and
more than two inches deep. This done, they dig perpendicularly down for
about four inches. The cavity thus made is their nest. As they are small
birds, it takes them a long time to finish this piece of
carpentering—often two or three weeks. There the female lays her eggs
and hatches them in security, no snake or wild animal being able to
disturb them.
Not only do they use these nests while they are hatching, but also
during the rainy season. How cosy they must feel in these places of
refuge when a storm is raging! Nothing could be safer, or better shelter
them from the rain. The aperture being about two inches in thickness
before you come to the perpendicular hollow, of course the rain can not
reach the inside.
I have seen trees entirely perforated by them; that is to say, having
more than a dozen of these holes in them; and thus forming what we may
call a little village of themselves. I wonder if they had a king! These
birds are very shy, and the least noise will frighten them. How
affectionate the pair seemed to be, how willing they were to help each
other in their work!
There is also another species of _Barbatula_ which I have discovered, of
a gray color, called now _Barbatula fuliginosa_, of the same habits, but
found in greater numbers. I have seen colonies of them, composed of
thirty or forty nests, on the same tree.
The picture given by the artist represents the birds working and making
their nests.
[Sidenote: _THE SYCOBIUS NIGERRIMUS._]
Now I must speak to you of another bird, a very curious one, the
_Sycobius nigerrimus_, which is found in almost if not all the regions I
have explored in Equatorial Africa. The habits of this bird are most
extraordinary. They are extremely sociable birds; the woods or the
uninhabited plantations have no charm for them; they must be where
people live, and hence they prefer always to live in the neighborhood of
a village. If there are trees in the middle of the village they will
live there, or on the trees back of the huts, and not far from where the
palm or plantain-trees abound; but man must be in sight, for they seem
to love his society.
[Illustration: AFRICAN HANGING BIRDS’ NESTS.]
In some villages they are found in immense numbers, often there are
several hundreds of nests on the same tree, but it depends on the size
of the tree. I have seen several thousands of nests on a single tree, of
which they take entire possession for years. The _Sycobii_ are a little
larger than sparrows, and the habits of these little twitterers are so
remarkable that I never wearied of watching their curious ways, and very
skillful and intelligent manœuvres in nest-building or in gathering
food. A native village would lose a great charm without them. In many
villages of the interior, where people do not move about, trees are
planted specially for them, and it is considered an ill omen if they do
not come. They make such a noise from morning till night that sometimes
it is almost impossible to hear when close to them; the harder at work
they are the more noise they make.
There are two species, but both live in the same trees and associate
indiscriminately with each other, though not, of course, in the same
nests. The male of one species is entirely black, and the female a dark
gray, while in the other the male is yellow, with black and yellow
throat. The eggs of the first mentioned are bluish, with black spots,
while those of the other species are light pink, with dark spots. Both
kinds of eggs are very beautiful.
They are singularly industrious birds: they seem never to weary of work.
When they have settled upon a tree on which to plant a colony, they
labor from daylight till dark, day after day, with seemingly the utmost
joy, fun, and perseverance at their very singular pendent nests.
The nest is round in shape, or nearly so, with a narrow passage for
entrance and exit leading down one side and opening beneath. It is
securely fastened to an outstretched twig, and I have sometimes counted
in one tree more than two thousand of such pendent little balls, each
inhabited by a family, male and female, of these birds; and once I am
sure I saw four or five thousand of these nests. This I saw in the
Ishogo country, of which I may speak to you one of these days. The birds
when building strip the leaf off the palm, or plantain, or banana tree.
They split the leaf into very narrow strips, not more than two or three
lines wide, but through the whole length of the leaf in the palm, and
the whole breadth of the leaf in the plantain, beginning from the rib.
Male and female both work at gathering this material, and every piece is
brought up to the tree. How strangely they look as they fly with them
from the place where they took them to that where their colony is
situated! It seems as if they were carrying away a long, narrow ribbon.
The pendent twig having been chosen, the birds begin to turn their
leaf-strips over the twig, and to interlace them below in such a way as
to enable the finished nest to shed rain. The birds work with the
greatest assiduity with both beak and feet, sometimes with the head up,
sometimes with the head down. Often I would see one little fellow one
minute holding by his feet and working the strips in with his bill, the
next suspended by his bill and pushing all together with his feet, then
adroitly slipping inside, and by pushing and working with his body
giving the nest a round shape. The entrance is the last made, and they
are knowing enough to build its mouth down, so that the inside may be
sheltered from the rains, which I can assure you pour down in good
earnest in these equatorial regions. A few leaves are put inside where
the eggs are to be laid.
[Sidenote: _TIME OF NEST-BUILDING._]
Sometimes trees on which these industrious little fellows build are
quite killed by the weight of so many nests, and by the space they
occupy preventing the regular growth of the branches. The nests are not
only used to breed in, but also to live in, and each pair breeds several
times a year, raising two young ones in a brood. Of course, with such a
rapid increase, they are always needing new nests, so that the building
process is going on almost all the time.
The nests looked all alike to my eyes, yet each bird was always able to
find its own. But sometimes I noticed a strong fellow trying with might
and main to oust one of his weaker brethren from his home, or to drive
him from the work he had begun; then there was a downright fight for
possession.
They have a foreknowledge of the rainy season evidently, for just before
this sets in they are particularly active in building and repairing, and
at such a time the village where they have settled is alive with their
merry twittering and active bustle.
Of course, during the dry or cold season very little building is going
on.
I shall always have a pleasant recollection of these _Sycobii_, and no
one was ever allowed to disturb them at Washington, where I had three or
four little trees full of their nests. The natives like to see them
round them, and no village is thought to be perfect without them.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XVII.
ON THE OFOUBOU RIVER.—ELEPHANTS BATHING.—PURSUIT THROUGH THE
SWAMP.—ESCAPE OF THE ELEPHANTS.
If you could have visited me, you would have found me on the banks of
the Ovenga River, at the village of my Bakalai friend Obindji.
Numbers of canoes, made each from the trunk of a single tree, are on the
river-bank. My friend Quengueza is giving his orders for the comfort of
Ntangani: “his friend Paul” is going away with him.
We are going to leave, for there is nothing more to eat at friend
Obindji’s. Game has become scarce, elephants and gorillas have destroyed
their plantations, and disappeared. We are too kind-hearted, however, to
tell good Obindji that we are obliged to leave his village because we
are hungry every day.
We are going to ascend the Ofoubou River, which is one of the affluents
of the Ovenga, and are bound for the village of Njali-Coudié. This is a
strange name to give to a town, but there are many strange names in this
country. I hope you will be able to pronounce them according to the
African standard, and that you will remember them.
[Sidenote: _THE DEPARTURE._]
Obindji is on the beach, beating his _kendo_ (the royal sceptre) and
invoking the spirits of his ancestors to protect his friend Quengueza,
and his Ntanga (white man). He is covered with fetiches, and has rubbed
his body with the chalk of the Alumbi.
The _kendo_ is the badge of royalty in some of these tribes of Africa. I
will give you a description of the _kendo_. It is a rude ball of iron,
fashioned with a long handle, also of iron, and of the same piece. The
sound which with us announces the vicinity of a herd of cows or sheep,
in Africa precedes the advent of the sovereign, who uses the _kendo_
only when on visits of state or on business of importance.
When they wear the _kendo_ it is on the shoulder, and there is put over
it the skin of a genetta, in which some of the Alumbi powder is kept.
In this case friend Obindji thought it was very important that the
spirits of his ancestors should follow us. He wanted good wishes to
precede us. Hence he said, he hoped we would have plenty to eat, and
that I would kill all the game I wanted.
Obindji was really in earnest, and jabbered away in a manner and with an
eagerness that was laughable; he had certainly plenty of faith in the
powers he was invoking.
The canoes were ready, and soon friend King Quengueza gave the order for
our departure. His Majesty was in his royal travelling costume. He had
on a coat which I had given him, but no shirt; he had a cravat round his
neck, and instead of pantaloons, which, by the way, I had never been
able to make him wear, he had a cloth round his waist. His bag hung over
his shoulder, and in this was his _ogana_ (idol); there also he had a
good supply of tobacco, his pipes, and several other things, among which
were articles for the toilet of his Majesty, such as a little calabash
of palm-oil to rub on his skin to soften it, and to give to some of his
wives when he wished to be particularly amiable.
In this journey his Majesty thought he would have ten wives to accompany
him, and to provide for his comfort; and though King Quengueza was, I
should judge, at least seventy-five, the oldest among these ten wives
could not have been more than fourteen years of age, and he had left a
few behind still younger than these.
Quengueza and I, with two of the favorite wives, including a Bakalai
one, were in the royal canoe, at the head of which was a drummer. I
fired a salute, and soon a bend of the river hid us from Obindji’s view.
The drums were beating, and all the men were singing. All the other
canoes paddled in front of us except one, which kept in the rear.
The starry flag floated gracefully in the royal canoe. Quengueza was
wonderfully pleased with the flag. We entered the Ofoubou River and
fired another gun, the echo of which resounded from hill to hill, and
started the roar of a gorilla, which could not have been half a mile
distant from where we were. That fellow was certainly a large male
gorilla.
The Ofoubou was a narrow river, but deep at that time of the year: trees
and palm lined its banks, which it had overflowed, spreading its waters
over the strip of lowlands which bounded it, and which separated it from
the hills.
[Sidenote: _A HERD OF ELEPHANTS BATHING._]
Njali-Coudié was situated about ten miles distant from the banks of the
Ofoubou. By-and-by the singing ceased, and we paddled silently along,
when suddenly one of the canoes ahead made us a sign to be very quiet.
“What is going on?” I whispered to Quengueza. Quengueza in a low voice
replied, “I know not.” Every man looked carefully at his gun. The canoe
ahead had stopped, neither retreating or advancing. What could it be? We
pulled with the utmost care; our paddles, as they dipped into the water,
made no noise at all, and at last we all met.
Then Adouma, the king’s nephew, came and whispered low—“Elephants are
here, they are bathing in the river. I have heard them.”
“Are you sure they are elephants?”
“Are they not hippopotami?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, “they are elephants.”
The countenances of all the fellows brightened up; the ivory tusks of
the noble beast were, they thought, already in their possession—they
were selling the skin of the fox before having killed the animal.
We let all our canoes pass down the stream a little way, in order that
we might hold a grand palaver. Adouma, Quabi, Rapero, all Quengueza’s
nephews, were present. Querlaouen and Malaouen, the two most redoubtable
warriors of the Bakalai of the Ovenga, were also there; these five, with
Quengueza and myself, formed the Grand Council.
Quengueza, being an old man, was to remain where he was with all the
party, while myself and the five others were to move in a canoe and make
land near where the elephants were.
Immediately the fellows covered themselves with their fetiches;
Querlaouen and Malaouen bled their hands, and then we looked carefully
at our guns. Though we were more than one hundred men altogether, the
falling of a leaf could have been heard by any one of us, the silence
was so profound.
The canoe that was to take us came. Adouma and Quabi paddled, and onward
we went until we reached a bend of the river, and I could distinctly
hear the elephants. So we thought best to land inside of the bend, which
we did without uttering a whisper for fear of alarming the elephants.
After landing the great difficulty was how to gain the other side. The
country was overflowed, it was all bog land, yet to the elephants we
must go. We could not possibly follow the edges of the forest that
bordered the Ofoubou, for we should have soon found ourselves in twenty
feet of water, and in the middle of a strong current. These bog-lands
are always dangerous things on the banks of the overflowed African
rivers.
I hung my powder-flask close to my neck, and also my watch, in case the
water should be deep, for I am not tall. My men took the same precaution
with their bags, and then Malaouen took the lead. Where we landed there
was no dry spot, and as we advanced through the woods we immediately
found ourselves entangled in the midst of the roots of the trees, with
the water above our waists, sinking knee deep into the mud, ignorant at
every step whether the next might bring us into water up to our necks or
above our heads. That was about as difficult a tramp as I ever had had
in all my travels. Suddenly Querlaouen’s foot caught under some roots,
and down he went into the water, gun and all. He immediately swore in
Bakalai that somebody had bewitched him, and did not want him to kill an
elephant. Finally we came to a place where the water reached my neck, I
being the shortest of all; so I took my watch and powder in one hand and
my gun in the other, raising both arms as high as I could, and at every
moment I fully expected to go down. One step more and the water just
reached my mouth, but happily the next step took me on higher ground.
[Sidenote: _WE ARE TOO LATE._]
At last we succeeded in crossing the bend, and came in sight of the
elephants, who did not observe our approach.
They were seven altogether. What a huge beast the male was! The other
six were all females, so said Malaouen. They were perfectly unconscious
of our presence, and swam to and fro in the narrow river. Unfortunately
they were very far from us, being very nearly half a mile off, and to
come to a good shooting distance in this awful swamp would take some
time.
[Illustration: HUNTING ELEPHANTS.]
Their large ears contrasted singularly with the small ears of their
Asiatic brethren; they were also somewhat smaller. Several of them had
huge tusks of ivory; those of the bull were gigantic. They were bathing,
and evidently enjoying themselves.
We now followed with great care the banks of the river about ten or
fifteen yards inside of them, until at last the water became so deep
that we came to a halt. How sorry we felt! I would have given much if I
could have come near the elephants; but as we approached the banks we
saw the elephants leaving the river. What monsters they seemed! I
shouldered my long-range rifle, aimed at the big male, with but little
hope of killing it, as I must have been several hundred yards off. I
fired, heard the bullet strike one of the tusks, when the animals
plunged into the forest, breaking down every thing before them.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XVIII.
NJALI-COUDIÉ.—AN AFRICAN TOWN.—THE CHIEF.—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE IN
AFRICA.—BUYING A WIFE.—QUARREL OVER THE SPOILS.
Now, after many wanderings, I find myself in the very large village of
Bakalai called Njali-Coudié. Often I wonder that I have not been
murdered by these Bakalai, for they are very treacherous, and life seems
to them to be of no value.
The village of Njali-Coudié is situated in the very hilly country
between the Ofoubou and Ovenga Rivers. It was one of the largest Bakalai
villages I had ever seen. The people were wild; their houses were small,
very small indeed, and built with the bark of trees. It was surrounded
by large plantain groves and clusters of sugar-cane.
The name of the chief of that strange village was Mbango, and a fine
savage he was. His hair and his beard were white. Round his waist was a
piece of grass-cloth; by his side hung a tremendous war-knife; and on
each of his ankles he wore two tremendous iron rings. Round his neck he
wore some _monda_ fetich, which he thought could protect him from evil
spirits and from being bewitched. Round him hung some charmed powder,
preserved in the skin of a wild animal. Around his chest he wore a strip
of leopard’s skin, which his people believed could never be pierced by
spears or arrows. So we might say that King Mbango thought himself
invulnerable.
The people of the village were a hard set of quarrelsome-looking
fellows. The women were not beautiful, indeed they were very ugly; and
even King Mbango’s head-wife was far from being a belle. She was a tall
woman; her teeth were filed to a point; her hair was anointed profusely
with palm-oil; her face was all tattooed; and on each side of her cheek,
a little below the eye, there were two round spots of flesh of the size
of a quarter of a dollar. They had succeeded in raising the flesh, and
it must have required a good deal of skill. On her chest any amount of
fantastical tattooing could be seen; even her back was not free from
this ornamentation. Such is the faithful picture of Mbango’s head-wife,
whose name I have forgotten. She wore several brass anklets, and also
several bracelets. King Mbango had a score of wives besides her, but she
was the first woman he had married; hence she was the Queen—the foremost
of them all. When Mbango married a new wife, she gave her advice and
told her how she must love Mbango, how she must obey him, how
laboriously she must cultivate the soil in order to bring food to her
husband, and how she must often fish in order to feed her lord well. If
she does all this, the king will say, “This wife really loves me.” But
if she does not, beware! If she is lazy, the lash of whips made from the
hide of the hippopotamus, or of the manatee, will remind her of her
duties, and of the love she owes to her husband.
[Sidenote: _AN AFRICAN BETROTHAL._]
Do not think for a moment that women in that far-off country of which I
speak to you choose their husbands. Nothing of the sort! When a girl is
born among the Bakalai, while she is still a child she is often
betrothed, and now and then she goes to the village where her future
husband lives. Her mother or her father will take her there, and after a
while she comes back to her home, and this continues until she is
finally given away. As she grows older she visits her intended husband
less frequently, while he, on the other hand, comes oftener to the
village of her parents.
You will ask me how they get betrothed or engaged. No ring is given. The
man who comes to ask the girl comes first to talk the matter over. He
brings a few presents, say a goat or a few fowls, and a few jars of palm
wine, and places them at the feet of the girl’s father. Then he begins a
long rigmarole, and if he could he would go as far back as Adam. At
first he speaks at random, talking to somebody else all the time, for
they never speak directly to the person they address. Thus he goes on
for a couple of hours before he comes to the point. In the mean time the
presents are still lying before the father. The whole people of the
village are there listening, and approving or disapproving by grunts.
The man gets tremendously excited, and begins to halloo until he is
covered with perspiration. After he has finished there is a pause.
Somebody else gets up, and pleads sometimes for the suitor, and
sometimes in behalf of the villagers or relatives to whom the girl
belongs.
At last the father gets up, and he tries to play a shrewd game. He never
means what he says; he talks not to the suitor but to one that has come
with him, for it is the fashion here, as I have said, never to speak
directly to the person whom you wish to address. He seems astonished
that a man is bold enough to ask his beautiful daughter in marriage. He
sings her praises, generally pockets the presents, and says he will
think about it.
After this palaver the relations on the mother’s and the father’s side
are presented with the amount for which the girl is sold; and when the
final agreement has been made, the spoils are divided among the two
families.
This is the way girls are given in marriage in this part of the world.
Mbango had a beautiful girl, whom he seemed to love dearly, and she was
not betrothed. One day a fellow came from a neighboring village. He had
with him a slave to give to Mbango, several jars of palm wine, a goat,
some native tobacco coming from a country of the interior, called
Ashira, and he put all these things at the feet of Mbango, who was
seated on a stool and ready to hear him. After having talked a long
time, he presented his slave, his goat, and all the presents he had
brought with him to the King, and asked his daughter in marriage.
Old Mbango got up and pretended to be in a furious rage, but it was all
sham; he kicked and broke the jars of palm wine. How could a man come
and presume to offer him only one slave for his daughter, she who was
sought after by so many suitors? He could not believe his ears; and
Mbango went roaming about, brandishing his cane. In the mean time the
poor fellow had fled in dismay, leaving his slave, his goat, and all his
presents behind.
[Sidenote: _MBANGO GIVES HIS DAUGHTER IN MARRIAGE._]
Mbango’s pretended anger was a humbug. He wanted more presents, and
appeared highly indignant. So the next day the suitor came back, and
brought with him another slave he had kept in reserve, guessing that
King Mbango would not be satisfied with one. He knew well that it
required more than one in order to marry the daughter of a chief, and he
wanted to get his bride as cheap as he could. Mbango looked very stern.
How had he dared to come with one slave only? Did he think his daughter
was good for nothing?
Mbango was far more gentle. He took the other slave, and then said that
one more would settle the bargain—then he could take his bride with him.
The next day another slave came; the man swore that his uncle gave the
man to him, though I learned afterward that he had that third slave
ready, but that he thought that two slaves would do. The share of Mbango
for his daughter was two slaves, and that of the relatives of the mother
of the girl was one slave; and Mbango, wishing to appear generous, gave
them the goat. The relatives on the mother’s side of the girl tried to
get two slaves out of the three; it was a hard palaver, and lasted
several days, but Mbango was inexorable—he must have two slaves for his
share.
There was no ceremony. The man took his bride with him, and after a few
days she was to return to her father.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XIX.
THE FEAST OF NJAMBAI.—THE TALKING IDOL.—SECRET PROCEEDINGS.—THE WOMEN
AND THEIR MYSTERIES.
The village of Njali-Coudié became full of strangers, so full indeed
that many could not find shelter there, hence little olakos were
surrounding the village everywhere.
When I inquired the cause why so many strangers were in the village, I
was told that the Njambai feast was coming.
The first night I could not sleep, as no African feast is complete
without shouting, drumming, singing, dancing, and a good deal of
drinking, when the latter can be got. The noise was terrific; more than
one hundred tam-tams must have been beating.
At last I got up and went into the street. It was crowded with men,
women, and children. Fires and torches lighted it up, and gave a strange
appearance to the savages, who were painted in different colors.
[Sidenote: _THE NJAMBAI FEAST._]
Seeing a great crowd, I went there, and I saw in the middle of the
street a large wooden idol. It was a female figure, nearly of life size,
and with cloven feet like those of a stag. Her eyes were of copper; one
cheek was painted red, and the other yellow. About her neck hung a
necklace of leopard’s teeth. This idol is said to have great power, and
the people believe that on certain occasions she nods her head. She is
said to talk quite frequently—as might, indeed, be expected. She is very
highly venerated by the people. Before her stood plantains, sugar-cane,
and a piece of antelope. The people were dancing around her, singing
most furiously and drumming with tremendous force. They were so much
excited and so much in earnest that their bodies were bright and shiny;
for the oil their skin naturally possesses comes out so abundantly that
one might have thought they had dipped themselves in it. The perfume was
not particularly pleasant, but I had become accustomed to it.
How wild the scene, how wild the men as they danced round! They looked
almost like demons. Sometimes a single man would come forth and dance
before the idol, making the most horrid contortions possible, and,
speaking to her, would vanish again. This idol belonged to the clan of
which Mbango was the chief, and had been in their possession as far back
as they had any remembrance. The clan of Mbango includes half a dozen
large villages within a circuit of thirty miles; hence the idol of the
clan remains with him. But that night there was no nodding and no
talking of the idol. The people began to be frightened, and their
ignorant doctors were at their wits’ end, and did not know what to do.
On the night of the two following days there was a dead silence and a
great darkness: no fire was allowed in the village, no torch could be
lighted. The only light was mine, and that was closely shut up in my
hut.
What a strange scene! Not a voice could be heard; for he who should have
dared to talk would have probably paid with his life for his rashness.
Two or three times a strange feeling of awe took hold of me, for I stood
alone in the midst of this wild people, and what could be wilder than
these superstitious scenes? It is not wonderful that these poor weak
creatures, in sight of such idols as they have, are frightened even at
themselves.
The Mbuiti was set out in the middle of the street, and the people stood
round her in the pitchy darkness. She is said to have bowed, walked
about, and spoken to some one, expressing her pleasure at two gazelles
that had been offered to her. She ate some of the meat—so I was
assured—and left the rest for the people.
Yes! they all believed the reports which I have just related to you. I
felt very sorry that the mind of man could be so debased. What they
asked of the idol I have never been able to find out; they were
unwilling to tell me. At any rate, they were pleased, for they thought
the idol had spoken, had nodded, and had eaten.
Now let us come to Njambai. Njambai is a spirit, a very good spirit, who
protects the women. All the tribes I have visited believe in him or her,
though with all the name is not the same. All the women venerate
Njambai. This worship of the women is a kind of mystery, no men being
admitted to the ceremonies, which are carried on in a house very
carefully closed. This house was covered with dry palm and banana
leaves, and had not even a door open to the street. To make all close,
so as to prevent the eyes of man from penetrating into it, it was set
against two other houses, and the entrance was through one of these, so
that complete darkness reigned in the house of Njambai. Mbango and
friend Quengueza warned me not to go to the place, for the King
said—“Ntanga, I myself can not go and have a look.”
[Sidenote: _MYSTERIOUS WORSHIP OF THE WOMEN._]
The feast of Njambai takes place once a year.
The women had come from all the villages round; they had come for the
Njambai feast. They had all painted their faces and bodies, were beating
drums, and marching about the town. Now and then they would all go into
the forest, whence I could hear their wild songs. From time to time they
entered the Njambai-house, where they danced inside and outside; and one
night they made a most outrageous noise, far greater than even the men
had made when I came to the village.
I thought it pretty hard not to be able to sleep. After a few days I
began to feel the need of it, but I did not wish to go and make my camp
in the woods, for I wanted to see the feast of Njambai. The men were
hunting all the time, and all the game they killed or caught they
brought to the women, who offered them all to Njambai.
On the second day they nearly all went off into the woods, and their
songs were something wonderful. Now and then I could hear the name of
Njambai. I noticed that in the morning a few had entered the
Njambai-house, where they remained, keeping a mysterious silence. Now my
curiosity, which had been greatly excited to know what took place in
that secret worship, finally overcame me. I resolved to see the inside
of this house if I could. I fancy many of you would have done the same.
I walked several times up and down the street to avoid suspicion.
Looking round and seeing nobody, I went quietly by the house, and at
last suddenly pushed aside some of the leaves that formed the walls and
stuck my head through it. For a moment I could distinguish nothing in
the darkness. Then I beheld three perfectly naked old hags sitting on
the clay floor, with an immense bundle of greegrees or fetiches before
them, which they seemed to be contemplating in silent adoration.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE NJAMBAI-HOUSE.]
[Sidenote: _AM BESIEGED BY THE WOMEN._]
I was put aback, for I expected to see no one. As soon as their fear and
wonder had somewhat subsided, they set up a hideous howl of rage, and
rushed out to call their companions in the bush. In a few minutes these
came rushing toward me with gesture of anger, and threatening me for my
offense. I quickly reached my house, and, seizing my gun in one hand and
my revolver in the other, told them I would shoot the first one that
came inside my door. I never saw such an infuriated set. My house was
surrounded by above three hundred angry women, every one shouting out
curses at me; and still they kept coming in, their number every moment
growing greater and greater.
King Mbango came to the rescue. I was glad of it, for I had never been
in such a predicament before. I had never faced in my life an angry mob
of women before; and here there were hundreds of them before me, who
seemed ready to tear my eyes out of my head, or commit such other gentle
little deeds as I certainly thought no female could attempt.
Presently they went back to the Njambai-house, and I felt quite
relieved. I had become almost deaf, and had wondered how I should get
out of the scrape.
At last a deputation of the women came to King Mbango and to Quengueza,
who told the women I was their guest. The women did not wish to yield,
but at last King Mbango and his male subjects came one by one and put
their offerings before the women. These consisted of grass-cloth,
knives, plates, bracelets, anklets, etc., etc. With these the angry
women were appeased, and there the quarrel ended. Of course I could not
make any further investigations into their mysteries. I was watched very
closely, and Mbango came and implored me not to go again, saying—“The
wrath of Njambai may come upon us!”
The Njambai feast lasted about two weeks. I could learn very little
about the spirit which they call by this name. It protects the women
against their male enemies, avenges their wrongs, and serves them in
various ways.
What I have told you is all I know about it, but I thought it might
interest you as it did me. I only hope that, whenever you travel, it
will never happen to you to have several hundreds of infuriated women
after you, for I can assure you that I would have rather encountered a
gorilla of the worst kind than to face them.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XX.
SICK IN A STRANGE LAND.—ADVENTURE WITH A SNAKE.—HOW A SQUIRREL WAS
CHARMED.
I was in the forest, under a large tree, very ill. I had been sick with
a fever for some weeks, and all the medicine I had taken seemed to do me
no good. Little by little my strength gave way. The days and the nights
seemed so long! I am sure that if you had seen me you would have pitied
me. There I was in that great forest, which was full of wild men and
still wilder beasts. How helpless, how sad, how lonely I felt!
The hand of death was close upon me. Looking at myself in the
looking-glass, the sunken and pallid cheeks told how much I had
suffered. My eyes grew dim, and I began to realize that soon my days
were to be ended, and that I was to die in that desert place, far away
from home and friends, and that the wild beasts of the woods would come
and devour me.
My bed was made of leaves, my pillow was the branch of a tree. Instead
of blankets I had two fires, but I was so burning hot the greater part
of the time with fever that I cared not for these. Close to me lay my
little Bible, on my small and now almost empty medicine chest, but I
could only look at it, for I could not read any more; there were a few
books also, and a few old newspapers from New York.
Over my bed was a covering of leaves to protect me from the rains.
At last I was too feeble to rise and quench my thirst in the little
stream near where my camp was made, or to go there and bathe my burning
head. So the kind women got water and bathed my head. I could not eat,
for I had nothing. At times I thought that if I could only have a little
piece of dry bread, how much I should relish it! I could bear the
plantains and the wild berries and fruits no longer. There were days
when I felt so lonely, so wretched, so poor, so helpless, that the tears
rolled down my cheeks. The days of my boyhood came back before me, for
they had been happy days. Then, instead of a piece of wood, I had a soft
pillow to lay my head upon; then there were gentle hands that caressed
me when I was sick. Where was that cosy little bed now? What a contrast!
I thought of the friends of my youth—of little Lucy, of Julia, and
Laura, and Jessie. What had become of beautiful little Lottie, with her
fair hair, and of charming little Maggie, with her dark hair? What
friends we had once been! Lottie had been like a sister to me. I
wondered if they thought sometimes of me, or if some of them might have
gone to heaven. What had become of them? I knew that, if they were by,
they would take care of “little Paul,” as they used to call me.
I remembered the ladies that were so kind to me when I had no mother to
care for me; I knew that if I had any thing good and amiable in my
nature they had taught it to me.
[Sidenote: _REMEMBRANCES._]
Where were all my playmates? How we would have laughed if any one had
said that little Du Chaillu would one day go into unknown countries,
where no white man had been before, and there spend the best days of his
life, and be, as his fathers of old were, a _chevalier errant_.
I remembered my two tiny little black ponies which my father had given
me, and how kind he had been to me, and I also remembered my good nurse
Rosee. My heart was sore and heavy, and I could not help thinking of the
happy days gone by; for I was but three-and-twenty, with the world still
bright before me, when I was thus sick and lonely.
The stars peered through the dark foliage of the forest trees. How
beautiful and bright they looked, reminding me of the heavens whither
our spirits go! I thought of my mother, and where she might be, and
wondered if she could see me as I lay alone in that dark forest under
the big tree. I remember how I said, Oh, my mother, my heart is sore and
weary, I want to come to thee!
Such were often my thoughts when lying so ill under the big tree. I knew
not if I should see the morrow. So I prayed God to care for me.
One day, after feeling so sad, I went to sleep; when I awoke my Bakalai
men had returned from the hunt and were watching over me, and I felt
relieved. God had taken care of me. Days went by, and I regained slowly
my strength; my men went out hunting and brought me game, the women of
the country went out fishing and brought me fish, the people brought me
food. None of them wanted their Ntangani to die. They were all kind to
me in that far country where they might have killed and plundered me.
I shall always remember Quengueza. I do love old Quengueza; nor shall I
ever forget old Anguilai, the Bakalai chief who, when I was so ill, gave
the only goat he had for me to eat, to make me strong, he said. It was
the goat that he had laid by for a wife.
Good Obindji was not behindhand in kindness, and I shall never forget
friends Querlaouen and Malaouen, and I often hope that we may meet
again. I wish they could know that I often think of them, and that I
have a heart full of gratitude for all their kindness to me.
I began now to get stronger and stronger, and was soon able to go about
with my gun. How glad I was to be again able to shoot gorillas, and make
collections of curious animals and birds to bring with me to New York
and show them to my friends and tell them how hard I had worked to
collect them!
I shall never forget that, one day as I lay ill under that big tree, I
spied an enormous snake folded among the branches of another tree not
far off from me. My attention had been drawn to that tree by the cries
of a squirrel. I wished some of my men had been with me to kill it, so
that I might have something nice to eat, though I was not very hungry;
but there was no man with me, only three women who were taking care of
me. I was not strong enough to take my gun. I was so weak that I did not
mind having the snake so close to me.
I will tell you what that squirrel and that snake were doing.
The snake was charming the poor little squirrel. How nice the squirrel
was! how beautiful his little tail! how black and bright seemed his
little eyes! His little feet were moving onward toward the snake; his
little tail was up, and he chippered as he advanced toward certain
death.
[Illustration: CHARMING THE SQUIRREL.]
[Sidenote: _THE SNAKE AND THE SQUIRREL._]
The snake was still as death, not one of his folds could have been seen
moving. How black and shiny the ugly creature was, and what a contrast
with the green leaves of the trees! Part of his body was coiled on a
limb of the tree. How fixedly he looked at the squirrel! His head was
triangular, and he belonged to that family of snakes that spend the
greatest portion of their time on trees. This was of a very venomous
kind. I wished I had been strong enough to take my gun and kill the
serpent, and so save the life of the little squirrel.
Nearer and nearer the squirrel came; louder and louder were his
chipperings; he tried to run away, but could not. At last he came within
a foot of the snake. There was a pause; then suddenly, like a flash of
lightning, the snake sprung: the poor little squirrel was in the folds
of the ugly reptile, and soon I saw his body gradually disappearing into
its inflated mouth, and the broken silence of the forest resumed its
sway.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXI.
WITCHCRAFT.—ACCUSATION OF PENDÉ.—RESULT OF HIS TRIAL.
War is looming on the banks of the Ovenga. Witchcraft is at the bottom
of the trouble. The Bakalais have met from every vale and from every
hill, and chiefs and elders and warriors have come to ask for the head
of Pendé. I am alone of all my race in this turmoil.
Pendé was a younger brother of King Obindji, and was himself the chief
of a village. Pendé was disliked by every body. The fearful accusation
which the Bakalais brought against him was this. Pendé was said to have
stolen the bones of dead persons in the forest and to have made a fetich
with them, which fetich was to keep trade away from a particular
village. Pendé was an _aniemba_ (a wizard); for who ever heard of men
who went and stole human bones and kept them, that were not sorcerers?
Pendé’s ways were strange and mysterious. People could not understand
them, and he must be killed. Obindji being the eldest brother, they
called on him to issue an order for the killing of Pendé.
Obindji must give up his brother. Quengueza being in the country, the
discussion took place before him. I and Quengueza stood on two stools in
the midst of the two opposite camps. One camp demanded Pendé’s life,
while the people of the other said Pendé was not guilty of what he had
been accused. Hence these latter were unwilling to deliver him to be
killed.
With the exception of Quengueza, every man there was armed to the teeth.
They were all covered with fetiches and war-charms; they were painted in
all sorts of fantastic colors. How ugly many of them looked! how
devilish, how blood-thirsty many of them seemed to be! O God, how kind
thou art! Thou makest the rain fall on the evil, and on the good; thou
makest the dew of heaven fall on the poisonous plant, and on the plant
that feedeth man. Still, in despite of the blood-thirstiness of these
people; in despite of their superstitions and horrid customs, now and
then the better nature of man would get possession of them, and their
hearts were susceptible of better feelings.
So a man of the name of Mashamamai came forward; he was thin and wiry,
tall and slender; his features were sharp, his eyes sunken, his cheeks
somewhat prominent, and his filed teeth showed themselves every time he
opened his mouth to speak. His body was tattooed all over; he wore round
the waist a leopard’s belt, which he himself had entrapped and killed, a
necklace of leopard’s and gorilla’s teeth; on his side hung a huge
war-knife. His eyebrows were painted yellow; on his forehead there was a
broad white mark, while one of his cheeks was painted red, and the other
yellow. He certainly had succeeded in his attempt to look horrid.
He began in a hollow, sonorous voice, and said—
[Illustration: THE TRIAL OF PENDÉ.]
[Sidenote: _ACCUSATION OF PENDÉ._]
“Bakalai, people among us have been dying. Where is Aqualai? he is gone.
Where is Anguilai? he is gone. Where are Djali and Ratenou, our great
hunters? they are gone. Where is Olenda? Where are the people of our
once large clan? They have all gone, to come no more to us. How is this?
For they were well before death got hold of them, and they could not
have died unless people had bewitched them. Where are our women who once
danced and sang for us, who went on our plantations, who gave us food,
who went fishing and gave us fish, and who bore children to us? They,
too, have gone. The forest is full of dead men’s bones. How could this
be, unless we have sorcerers among us?”
The whole crowd of the two camps shouted with one accord, “How could men
die unless they are bewitched?” The dread of death was on the face of
all; their eyes became wild, and they sought revenge, for none of them
wanted to die. “There would be no death without _aniemba_,” they all
shouted; “without _aniemba_ there would be no sickness.” A little more,
and the frenzied crowd of the two camps would have rushed forward and
cut poor Pendé to pieces. The speaker who was speaking was considered
one of their most powerful orators. He went on to say that he had had a
dream—many others had the same dream—it was that Pendé had gone into the
woods and stolen men’s bones. Yes, he was sure of it, for his dreams
could not lie. They all shouted on the accuser’s side, “Our dreams can
not lie! They must be true. It must be so. Pendé has gone into the
forest, and stolen men’s bones to make a _monda_ fetich to kill us, and
to prevent trade from coming to us.” Then a dead silence followed. Pendé
came forward, and in a loud voice said, “No, I have never done such a
thing—I am not a wizard. I will drink the _mboundou_ if I am accused of
being one.” He was sure he was not one—he would not die, and he would
make them give him plenty of slaves for having insulted him. He had
never taken in his hands any human bones. There were wizards, but he was
not one of them. He wanted them to live long—he wanted them to kill
plenty of elephants, to marry plenty of wives, to have plenty of
children, and a great number of slaves; he was not jealous of them.
Their dreams were false. He could never wish such evil things upon them.
On the contrary, somebody was jealous of him, and wanted the people to
kill him, so that they might divide his wives and slaves, and take his
spear and his gun.
Pendé’s speech produced a good effect, especially as he was backed by a
strong force. All the time he addressed himself to King Quengueza, who
was seated, sedate and stately, and at whose side stood his (organa)
idol. I was listening in wonder, astonished at this strange spectacle.
Quengueza got up, and in a short time the palaver was over, and, in
order to have peace, Pendé had to give away three slaves to the three
chief accusers. But Pendé was suspected of being a wizard, and when once
the suspicion of being such an awful _evil being_ takes possession of
the people, it never wears out of their minds. So, a short time after,
poor Pendé was again accused of witchcraft—of having bewitched a man who
had died. Obindji himself got afraid of his brother, and Pendé was
killed, and his body was thrown in the river, after having been cut into
more than a hundred pieces.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXII.
GORILLA HUNTING.—PREPARATIONS.—WE KILL A MALE GORILLA.—BRINGING HIM TO
CAMP.
We are merry. Our camp has been built; we are in a country where
elephants, gorillas, leopards, and wild boars are abundant. There are
also antelopes and gazelles, and other wild animals.
We are seated round the fire and talking of to-morrow, for we are going
hunting.
We are far away from any village of the Ashankolo Mountains, and are
near the Ovenga River. Our little canoe that took us there we have
hidden in the forest. We are not very far from the land called _Kanga
Niaré_.
There was Malaouen, the Bakalai hunter; there was Querlaouen, another
savage who knew not what fear was. There was Gambo, the son of an Ashira
chief, who was not behind any one in courage. Elephants, gorillas, and
leopards had been killed by him, and he was the nimblest fellow I ever
saw. To each I had given a present of a nice gun, to each I had given
also a keg of powder and several flints. We were all very good friends,
every body said so in the country. They were, they said, the good
friends of the spirit.
Before we had started their wives had loaded our canoe with provisions.
They had put sugar-cane in it for me, saying I must eat it on my return
from the chase when I should feel tired. We had two little Bakalai boys
to take care of our camp, to fetch fire-wood, and to cook our food. The
only fear we had was that the Bakalai of the interior might come upon us
on the sly and shoot some of us, but then we were far away from them. We
all swore that if any one of us was killed we would avenge him.
The night came, the fires were kept bright, our meal of plantain was
cooked, and I roasted on charcoal a piece of wild boar which friend
Querlaouen had given me. Our guns were as clean and bright as buttons,
the powder was safe, the bullets were right, and we were to have a jolly
time. I went to sleep, and dreamed of whole herds of elephants being
slaughtered, of gigantic gorillas being killed, of new animals being
discovered.
Before daylight we were awake; my men cut their hands and made them
bleed, in order, they said, to steady them. They also covered themselves
with fetiches, to be protected from the evil spirits and to have luck in
the chase.
I blackened my face and hands with charcoal mixed with oil, so that I
might look like them. We looked at our guns, unloaded them, and then
reloaded, and saw every thing was right. It was daylight when we
started, and for the first day it was agreed that we should go gorilla
hunting.
We had come to a country where we knew that gorillas were sure to be
found, for there grew a pulpy pear-shaped fruit the tonda, of which the
animal is very fond. It grows almost upon a level with the ground, and
is of a splendid red color. Not only were gorillas fond of the tonda,
but I myself liked it very much, as did also the negroes. I am very fond
of the subdued and grateful acid of this fruit. The kind that grows on
the sandy prairies of the sea-shore is not fit to eat. Many and many
times I would have starved in the forest without the tonda.
[Sidenote: _ON THE TRAIL._]
We were not mistaken, for we found everywhere gorilla marks, and now and
then we could see the huge foot-prints of some old monster, which
probably would have come and offered us battle if he had been near at
hand; at other places we saw where they had seated themselves and been
eating the tonda. At another place near a little stream we discovered
that a female gorilla and her baby had been drinking, for I could see
the tiny feet of the little one.
“There must be gorillas not far off,” whispered Malaouen into my ears,
and at the same time he looked carefully at his gun. Querlaouen and
Gambo gave a chuckle, and looked at Malaouen and at me. We all listened
in silence; we were then in one of the thickest and densest parts of the
forest; all was apparently still, but the quick ear of Malaouen had
detected something, had heard a noise, and he wanted to know the cause
of it.
We were so excited that our breathing was loud and distinctly audible.
We were all close together and did not move. We at once cocked our guns,
for we heard the moving of branches just ahead of us, when lo! the
forest resounded with the terrific roar of the gorilla which made the
very earth fairly shake under our feet. As soon as the gorilla saw us he
stood up, and beat his chest with his powerful hands until it resounded
like an immense bass drum. His intensely black face was something horrid
to behold; his sunken deep gray eyes looked like the eyes of a demon,
and he opened his mouth and gave vent to roar after roar, showing his
powerful canine teeth. How big they were! they were frightful to look
upon; the inside of his mouth was so red.
It was a male gorilla, a real fighting fellow, and was not afraid of us.
How horrid he looked as the hair on the top of his head twitched up and
down, and as he made the woods ring with his awful roar until the forest
was full of the din!
We stood in silence, gun in hand, and I was ready to fire, when
Malaouen, who is a cool fellow, said, “Not yet.” The monster, according
to them, was not near enough. He stopped for a minute or so, and then
seated himself, for his legs did not seem well adapted to support his
huge body. The gorilla looked at us with his evil gray eyes, then beat
his breast with his long, powerful, and gigantic arms, giving another
howl of defiance. How awful was that howl! He then advanced upon us. Now
he stopped, and, though not far off, they all said, “Not yet.” I must
own to having been somewhat accustomed to see gorillas. I was terribly
excited, for I always felt that, if the animal was not killed, some one
of us would be killed.
[Illustration: DEATH OF A MALE GORILLA.]
[Sidenote: _A MALE GORILLA KILLED._]
I now judged he was not more than ten or twelve yards from us, and I
could see plainly the ferocious and fiendish face of the monstrous ape.
It was working with rage; his huge teeth were ground against each other,
so that we could hear the sound; the skin of the forehead was moved
rapidly back and forth, bringing a truly devilish expression upon the
hideous face; then once more he opened his mouth and gave a roar which
seemed to shake the woods like thunder, and, looking us in the eyes and
beating his breast, advanced again. This time he was within eight yards
from us before he stopped again. My breath was growing short with
excitement as I watched the huge beast. Malaouen said “Steady,” as he
came up. When he stopped, Malaouen said “Now;” and before he could utter
the roar for which he was opening his mouth, three musket balls were in
his body, and he fell dead almost without a struggle. Gambo had not
fired; he had kept his gun in reserve in case of accident. “Do not fire
too soon. If you do not kill him he will kill you,” said friend Malaouen
to me—a piece of advice which I found afterward to be literally true. It
was a huge beast, and a very old one indeed. Gorillas vary in height
like men. This one was over 5 feet 6 inches. Its arms spread out 7 feet
and 2 inches. Its bare, huge, brawny chest measured 50 inches round; and
the big toe or thumb of its foot measured nearly 6 inches in
circumference. Its arm seemed only like an immense bunch of muscle, and
its legs and claw-like feet were so well fitted for grabbing and holding
on that I did not wonder that the negroes believed that this animal
concealed itself in trees, and pulled up with his foot any living thing,
leopard, ox, or man, that passed beneath. There is no doubt that the
gorilla could do this, but that he does, I do not believe. They are
ferocious and mischievous, but not carnivorous.
Though you see by the description I have given you that the animal is
large, I have killed others much larger, about one of which I will speak
to you.
The face of this gorilla was entirely black. The vast chest, which
proved his great power, was bare, and covered with a parchment-like
skin. Its body was covered with gray hair, the hair being longer on the
arms.
Though there is much dissimilarity between this animal and man, I never
kill one without having a sickening realization of the horrid human
likeness of the beast. This was particularly the case to-day when the
animal approached us in its fierce way, and walking on its hind-legs and
looking us boldly in the face, seemed to me like an incarnate fiend.
I stuffed and preserved its skin and skeleton, and a few years ago many
of you saw them in New York or Boston.
[Sidenote: _BRINGING HIM TO CAMP._]
I was delighted that we had killed a gorilla. We had the greatest
trouble in bringing the beast to the camp. We had to disembowel him on
account of his weight, in order to carry him. We cut a long pole, and
then tied its body on it. Then at one end there was Querlaouen, and at
the other Gambo and Malaouen, while I took the lead, and so we returned
by the way we had come. That gorilla must have weighed between three and
four hundred pounds.
You might ask how we could find our way back in this immense forest,
where the trees are so thick and close together. I will tell you.
As we advanced, we bent down or broke the boughs of trees which we
passed. If afraid of making a noise, we quietly took the leaves, and as
we went on we spread them on the ground, but above all we noticed every
thing, especially the trees, and it is wonderful how quick one acquires
this habit of observation. Yet, despite all this, now and then people
get lost, but it is generally because they have not been careful enough,
and have not followed the rules of which I have told you.
On the hunting grounds the Bakalai seemed to know every inch of ground,
every tree and shrub.
At last we reached the camp. How glad we were! It was almost dark, and
we were very tired; the two boys welcomed us and cooked our evening
meal. Tremendous fires were lighted, and my three fellows laid flat on
the ground, the soles of their feet almost touching the fire. It is
wonderful how by doing this they rest them, and cure the soreness which
a long march occasions.
I do not know how, but we all fell asleep without knowing it, leaving
the boys to keep watch; and when I awoke during the night Gambo was
snoring in a most fearful manner, Malaouen had almost his back in the
fire and did not feel it, while the position of Querlaouen was something
laughable, his arms being extended their full length; for he lay on his
back, while his big fetich was resting on the middle of his chest; his
gun lay by his side, and one of his knees was up, while the other limb
was stretched out to its full length. All three carried on a little
snoring musical concert, but that evening Gambo certainly carried off
the palm for noise. I did not want to awake the good fellows, for they
had worked hard, and we intended to have another tremendous hunt, for we
designed to kill a leopard if possible. I told the boys to go to sleep,
and I myself kept watch. It was soon four o’clock in the morning, and
the singing of the gray partridge, a new species which I discovered,
soon warned me that another day was about to begin.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN THE BUFFALO COUNTRY.—THE PARADISE OF FLIES.—THE VARIOUS SPECIES.
Now, though we have not left our hunting grounds of the preceding
chapter, we have moved toward the Ovenga River, and have built our camp
not far from its shore. We are now really in the heart of Kanga-Niaré,
the name which Quengueza people give to the land. Niaré means buffalo,
but I have forgotten the meaning of Kanga.
We have changed our camp, for Malaouen was fearful that some of our guns
might have been heard by the warlike Bakalais of the Ashankolo; and as
their clans had had some trouble with them, he was afraid that they
might come in ambush and shoot some of us. This, of course, was not a
very pleasant prospect. These Bakalai are so treacherous that they are
capable of any thing; they kill without warning any one that comes in
their way, whatever they may be, even women, children or old men.
As we worked hard all day we could not keep watch all night, so we had
concluded to move.
Our little camp is pleasantly situated on the edge of the forest in
front of a beautiful little prairie. There are several of these, and
rambling about I saw that traces of wild buffaloes were abundant. I had
not tasted buffalo for a long time, and I thought it would be a nice
thing if I could kill one.
Querlaouen, Gambo, and Malaouen had been feasting on gorilla meat,
though I had not. Not only had they feasted on it, but they had smoked a
good deal of it to take back with them.
The first day we kept quiet. The soil was sandy, the grass was very
luxuriant, growing at least two feet high. The sun is very oppressive in
these clear spots or little prairies. We were tormented terribly by
flies; the country of the Ovenga seems to be the paradise of flies.
During the day they often wear a man’s life out. They sting you, they
suck your blood, and they plague you beyond expression.
As for musquitoes, they were swarming at this time of the year, and I
would defy any one to sleep at night without musquito-nets, unless his
skin were bullet proof, or as hard as the skin of an elephant or
hippopotamus; and as mine was not, I always carried with me a net made
of the grass-cloth of the interior.
Three of these day-flies might have almost been called the three
plagues; in fact, in these parts there was always some kind of insect to
annoy one.
Early in the morning, just at sunrise, the _igooguai_ makes its
appearance and only disappears when the sun becomes too warm, as it does
toward nine or ten o’clock. The igooguai is a small, almost
imperceptible gnat, which appears in incredible numbers in the morning
in certain regions. From ten o’clock it is seen no more till four, when
its operations are recommenced, and last till sunset.
[Sidenote: _THE IGOOGUAI GNAT._]
It is a very, very small fly, which can hardly be noticed; it might be
called a sand-fly, and a dreadful little creature it is. In some regions
it is found in such great numbers that it is almost impossible to secure
quiet in the morning, hence the people have to surround themselves with
smoke to drive them away; and one must remain in his hut, which must be
filled entirely with smoke, in order to be free from them. If I stood
still outside for a while, my face and hands were covered with them.
After they have fed themselves their bodies become almost of a blood
color. You have hardly killed one hundred on your hand or face, when a
few minutes after the same number is found. Of course you can not kill
them one by one, so the only way is to pass your hand right over them
all on your face. My unprotected skin was covered then with little red
spots as if I had the measles.
I really can not tell you how these _igooguai_ troubled me; sometimes
they almost made me crazy. They are most determined blood-suckers,
leaving a bite which itches terribly and for a considerable time. They
are only found in open places generally.
The heat of the sun had hardly driven the _igooguai_ out of the field
and obliged them to take shelter in the forest or somewhere else (for
during the heat of the day they do not trouble any one), than the
flies—which we might call the three plagues—the _iboco_, the _nchouna_,
and the _ibolai_, began to make their appearance. These are quiet in the
morning, and remain so until the sun has warmed the atmosphere, then
they begin to buzz around the people; hence, as you see, there was no
peace for poor me. I had hardly got rid of one kind of the igooguai when
I got into the hands of these three other suckers by way of a change.
In certain regions, from eleven o’clock till three, I certainly thought
I should lose my senses, especially when living on the banks of rivers.
The most dreaded of all, and the most savage of these three species of
flies, is the _iboco_. I shall never forget the iboco as long as I live.
I have been stung too many times by them to forget it. A hot day, and
under a powerful sun, these insects attacked us with a terrible
persistency that left us no peace.
The iboco is a large fly of the size of a hornet, with yellow body and a
large green head; it flies with a wonderful rapidity; and when it wants
to rest on somebody it whirls round and round so rapidly that the eyes
become quite bewildered, and in the wink of an eye they rest on the bare
back of some poor negro, and give a sting which draws often from him a
cry of anguish. There is always great rejoicing when an iboco is killed.
They are very plentiful in the regions of the Ovenga River; indeed, I
have never seen them in such great numbers anywhere else. They like to
be by the water and in open places. I have never seen them except in the
clearings.
Many and many times have I started as if stung by a scorpion or
centipede, when it was nothing but an iboco, whose bill had gone through
two or three of my garments. Their bite is quite as painful as that of a
scorpion, but happily it is not venomous, and the pain does not last
long; but its sharpness makes up for the shortness of its duration.
Often the blood has run down my face or arm, from their savage attacks,
and even the well-tanned skin of the negroes is punctured till it
bleeds, so that one would almost think that a leech had been at work on
them.
[Sidenote: _THE NCHOUNA._]
The _nchouna_ has quite another sort of tactics. It is not so large as
the iboco, is far more sly, and is also found in greater numbers. If the
iboco were as numerous as the nchouna, the people would surely not be
able to live in the regions of the Ovenga. The nchouna is somewhat of
the shape of our common flies, but of at least twice the size; it is of
a yellowish color, and perhaps more elongated, resembling very much the
_tsetche_ of Southern Africa, of which species it may be a variety.
As one is seated, he sees several nchounas flying in a quiet way round
about him. They are very sly, and the least movement one makes sends
them off. As they fly around one they do not appear as if intent upon an
attack, but before you know it the fly has come, and in such a gentle
way that you do not notice it at all, for they insert their bill very
gently into your body. They will stay until they have sucked your blood
and filled themselves with it, and generally I never knew of their
attack till I felt the itch which follows the bite when the fly has
gone. Then this is followed by a little painful swelling. The itching
begins, and lasts often for several hours, especially if the fly has
been disturbed before its full allowance has been taken. In the height
of the rainy season in the country of the Ovenga no day passed without
my being bitten several times by the nchouna.
The negroes usually have a little broom, made of the stem of the leaves
of certain trees, to keep off this insect; often the tail of an elephant
is used for the same purpose.
The third species, I remember well, is called _ibolai_. It is an insect
twice as large as our common house-fly. The wings cross each other. This
fly is black, more elongated than the nchouna, and quicker on the wing;
its sting is long, and strong enough to pierce the thickest clothes one
can wear in the heat of an African summer. The sting is so terribly
sharp that I have often jumped up with the sudden pain, which was as if
a pin had been stuck savagely into my person; but the bite of this
insect, if painful, does not last like that of the nchouna. You need not
think for a moment that the day is over with the flies, and that one is
going to rest. Toward four o’clock, when the sun begins to go down and
lays hidden back of the hills, the iboco, nchouna, and ibolai disappear.
The _igooguai_, as I have said before, makes again its appearance to
plague and annoy; toward sunset they retire for parts unknown to me, and
several varieties of musquitoes make their appearance to remind man that
he is made of flesh and blood. In some parts of the country they are
very plentiful, and absolutely terrible, but I am happy to say that on
the banks of the Ovenga, where the flies I have described to you are
very abundant, the musquitoes are not so very numerous. The rainy season
is the time when all those flies are most abundant; the dry season is
almost free from them, and in many places they then become almost
unknown.
Such is, I assure you, a faithful picture of the flies of that region.
The best way to get rid of them is to keep in motion. If you stand still
they are sure to come upon you.
You will ask yourselves, How can people live in such a country? It is
wonderful how one gets accustomed to snakes, ants, flies, musquitoes,
scorpions, and centipedes. To be sure, they are not pleasant companions.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXIV.
ELEPHANT PITS.—A CAPTIVE.—DIVIDING THE MEAT.—THE ALETHE CASTANEA.
Querlaouen, Malaouen, and their wives and children, and all their
families, which amounted to about forty people, had worked hard at
digging elephant pits, of the same shape as those I have described to
you in “Stories of the Gorilla Country,” and which I saw in the cannibal
country. The pits had been covered with branches of trees, while others
were not for elephants to fall into. Often when they roam at night,
before they know it, down they are. A great work it must have been to
dig them; they were about fifteen feet deep, perfectly perpendicular,
and about eight or ten feet in length and six feet broad.
_Hanous_ had also been fixed, such as I have described to you while
among the cannibals, in a preceding volume. These were about ten or
fifteen feet long; and at a distance of about a foot apart there were
huge sharp-pointed iron spikes about six or eight inches in length. Each
of these hanous must have weighed several hundred pounds; and as they
fell from a great height, the weight falling on an elephant’s spine must
be very great, and more than sufficient to break it.
So, passing through these tangled forests, we had to be very careful, in
order not to fall into pits or to have a hanous fall upon our heads; for
in that case you would never have heard from me again. Malaouen knew
exactly where these pits were.
We were going through the forest with the greatest care, thinking that
we might meet gorillas, among which might be one of those lone fierce
males.
Suddenly we heard a noise in the distance. We listened. What could it
be? Malaouen’s quick ear soon detected that an elephant had been caught
either by a hanou, or that he had fallen into the pit. We listened, to
make sure of the direction the noise came from. We looked most carefully
at our guns, to make sure that we could fully depend upon them, and then
set out for the place where we suspected the huge beast was lying
prostrate.
As we approached the spot, the moans of the elephant became louder and
louder, and we at last fell into its track, which we followed, our
direction being thus clearly indicated. At length we came to the pit.
How careful we were in approaching it, and what a sight met our eyes! I
came trembling on its brink, for fear that the earth would give way and
precipitate me into the pit where the poor elephant was. What a sight
met my eyes as I looked down! The bottom of the pit was filled with a
black mass, which I recognized to be an elephant; the earth around was
saturated with its blood. The poor creature was not dead. In its fall
its ponderous weight had broken its four legs, and one of its
magnificent tusks had been dashed to pieces; its head was all bleeding,
and its trunk now and then moved up and down. The agonies of the poor
creature were great. I was glad that we had come to end the sufferings
of the poor beast.
So we raised our guns and fired right into its ear. Malaouen’s gun gave
a fearful recoil that almost knocked him down. I thought it had burst.
All became silent. The elephant’s ears and trunk dropped down, there was
no more moaning; death had done its work.
Like almost all the people of his tribe, he carried an axe with him; a
creeper was cut down, and tied to a tree near by to serve as a ladder,
and Malaouen dropped down into the pit. He had thrown his axe first and
then descended; and as he stood on the elephant, how small he looked by
the size of the huge beast! Then he cut the end of his tail, which is
made of very coarse and very dark bristly hair ending in a tuft, and
came up again. Joy filled his heart as we set out for the camp, and next
for the village.
[Sidenote: _THE GOOD NEWS._]
As soon as the news spread, we were received with wild demonstrations of
joy. They were going to have a nice time. They were going to have plenty
of elephant meat to eat. The children were also glad. I can assure you
that a big elephant forms a large mass of flesh, and would help to
pretty well fill a butcher shop. Then the news came that in a
neighboring village, not far from ours, three elephants had been killed.
I was quite astonished, for the animals are not plentiful in the region
I was in; but I was obliged to believe the report when I saw the three
new freshly-cut tails of the elephants. One was given to me afterward,
and a splendid thing it was to kill the nchouna, the ibolai, and the
iboco flies.
I just came into the town when the ceremonial dance was about to be
performed which precedes the division of the elephant meat. This is a
thank-offering to two spirits, _Mondo_ and _Olombo_, who seem to have a
presiding influence over the hunt.
A doctor from a country called Ashira, of which I will speak to you
hereafter, was leading the ceremonies. I find it here as we find it
often at home, that the prophet gains in repute the further he travels
from home. In Goumbi, Quengueza’s village, a Bakalai doctor was held in
high repute. In Biagano, a Goumbi doctor was chief of all the prophets.
Here among the Bakalai, only an Ashira doctor was thought worthy of
performing the ceremonies.
The Ashira doctor of course was covered with all sorts of fetiches. He
had painted his body in order to impress his audience with his great
power, and every thing he did was done in a mysterious manner.
They had three pieces, cut from the hind-quarters of the elephants,
boiling in large pots. Around these they danced, while the Ashira doctor
chanted praises and petitions to Mondo and Olombo.
[Illustration: DANCING AROUND THE ELEPHANT MEAT.]
[Sidenote: _THE ALETHE CASTANEA._]
A piece was cut off and sent into the woods to appease the hunger of
these deities (or, more likely, of their representatives, the leopards,
or the bashikouay or hyenas), and then the rest was eaten by the people,
all in the presence of the doctor.
Next came the division of the great heaps of uncooked meat. The town,
the town’s friends, the hunters, the hunters’ friends and _their_
friends, all came and got shares. I received about fifty pounds for
myself, then besides I had a piece of the trunk, and four of the feet
were given to me. These, by the way, must have weighed more than fifty
pounds by themselves.
As soon as I went back to my place I got an _orala_ and smoked my meat,
which I intended to keep, as we say, for a rainy day, that is, for a day
when I would have nothing to eat.
I do not know why, but for a few days after the killing of the elephants
the country was full of bashikouays. I could scarcely move anywhere
without falling in with these fellows, and their bites were, as usual,
very severe. They had no doubt smelled the elephant flesh and claimed
their shares. I noticed that there was a curious little bird with these
bashikouays, the _Alethe castanea_. This is a beautiful bird, which
follows or precedes these bashikouays, and feeds on the insects that fly
away from the ants; it is a new species. They fly in small flocks, and
follow industriously the bashikouay ants in their marches about the
country. The birds eat insects; and when the bashikouay army routs
before it the frightened grasshoppers and beetles, this bird, like a
regular camp-follower, pounces on the prey and carries it off.
The natives have some superstitions about this bird, and it is said by
them to have a devil in it. For what reason they say so I could not find
out.
My old enemies the snakes were also quite abundant, and as we pushed
through the woods we often saw several great anacondas hanging from a
projecting bough, waiting their prey. I shot a little bird, a very
curious one, which, in its fall, lodged among some vines. I was anxious
to get it, and began to climb up after it. Just as I was reaching out
for my bird, a snake, belonging to one of the most venomous kinds found
in these woods, stuck out his head at me from the thick vine foliage. I
was very much startled, and dropped down to the ground without any loss
of time. I could almost feel the reptile’s breath against my face. It
was a great scare. People do not get over snake bites very easily, and I
am sure you are not astonished that I was frightened.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXV.
A DESERTED VILLAGE.—FEAR OF DEATH.—WARS BETWEEN VILLAGES.—AFRICAN WILD
BOAR.—THE HUNT.
I have just arrived in a deserted village; there was not a soul to be
seen. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to remind us of living man
except the abandoned huts. How sad every thing looked all around! The
plantain-trees were growing back of the huts, and young bunches of
plantains were gracefully hanging down from them.
Even the little Sycobii birds had left, and only their deserted nests on
the trees testified that once they had built their homes there.
What had become of the people? They had left: they had abandoned their
village. How often I have met these abandoned villages in the forests of
Africa, but especially in the regions inhabited by the Bakalais, the
Mbondemos, the Mbishos, the Shekianis.
This village was situated on the broad waters of the River Ovenga, about
90 miles south of the equator. As I was not afraid of evil spirits, I
concluded I should use the huts to sleep in at night; but there was
tremendous opposition at first, for the men who were with me said it was
a bewitched village; two people had died there within a few days of each
other; the place was not good to live in; some of us would die if we
remained. Poor creatures, though daring and brave in the hunt, how
afraid they are of death! Hence if a man dies in a village there is a
great commotion, if another dies the village must be abandoned.
A village is scarce built, often the plantations have not borne fruit
for the first time, when they feel impelled to move. Then every thing is
abandoned; they gather up what few stores of provisions they may have,
and start off, often for great distances, to make, with tedious labor, a
new settlement, which will be abandoned in turn after a few months.
Sometimes, however, they remain for two or even three months more in the
same place.
Many things contribute to their roving habits, but first of all I have
said is their great fear of death. They dread to see a dead person.
Their sick, unless they have good and near friends, are often driven out
of the village to die in loneliness in the forest. Those Bakalai have no
burying-ground. After a man is dead the body is thrown anywhere in the
forest, and no more attention is paid to it.
The people of these tribes are very superstitious, and often after the
death of a man several friendless creatures are accused and condemned in
a breath, and murdered in cold blood. Afterward the village is broken
up, the people set up again after their wanderings, and fix upon some
lonely spot for a new plantation and a new home.
What a life this must be, to be all the while vainly fleeing from the
dread face of death, as if such a thing were possible. What can stand
still in the world? Nothing; absolutely nothing; constant changes are
taking place.
[Sidenote: _WARS BETWEEN VILLAGES._]
These people are of a treacherous disposition, and are constantly
quarrelling among their neighbors. They are most barbarous in their mode
of warfare, in which women, children, and even babies are killed. Once
while staying in a Bakalai village there were two women, who were
quietly washing, and were killed and left there, until the people,
wondering at their disappearance, looked for them, and found them dead.
When war has once really broken out in the country there is no rest or
safety. No man or woman in any village can take a step in any direction,
day or night, without fear of death. They lie in ambush to surprise each
other’s villages. If they have guns, they come on the sly and shoot
through the bark of which their houses are made, and kill sleeping
persons; hence no one could sleep for two consecutive nights at the same
place. In passing a tree, sometimes the enemy steals in behind, and will
spear the poor luckless man, woman, or child. They use every unfair
means of warfare; and the meaner the attack, and the greater the
treachery, the more glory they have won. In such times of war the fires
are put out after dark, because they give light to the enemy, and the
glare of the fire makes blind those near it, while those who come
through the darkness can see well. The people keep a dead silence, lest
their voices should betray their whereabouts; the hunters are loth to
hunt, for fear of falling into an ambush of some hidden enemies; the
women and slaves fear to plant, and therefore every body approaches a
condition of semi-starvation. This sometimes lasts for months. At last
whole districts are depopulated; those who are not killed desert their
villages to seek safety in some remote and unknown spot of the forest
where they think they may be safer; hence very often I felt quite
astonished to meet little villages far off. Many of their villages are
palisaded, and their dogs keep watch.
Yes, among such people I have lived for a long time when there was war
in the country, and I never knew if by mistake they might not kill me.
Now I have given you a slight idea of these warlike and treacherous
Bakalai. I am happy to say that on the right bank of the Ovenga
Quengueza has succeeded in preventing these wild men from making war
upon each other’s villages.
We have come to shoot wild boar. It is the season when they are very
fat, for we are in the month of March, and I tell you these wild boars
of Equatorial Africa are glorious eating, and are magnificent beasts to
bag.
Do not think they look like the wild boars they have in Europe. Nothing
of the kind. It is no easy matter to come near enough to have a shot at
these wild beasts, for they are exceedingly shy.
Night came, and my fellows were so afraid of evil spirits that they kept
tremendous fires and kept talking all night, and when daylight came they
felt so tired that they all went to sleep. This will never do, I said to
myself, for if a man does not sleep at night he certainly can not work
hard in the day.
After they awoke they came in a body, friend Malaouen leading, saying
that we had better go and make our camp far away in the forest, for the
place where we were was not good at all. I thought some of them might
get ill through fear, so I concluded I had better move, for the people
would lay the blame upon me. People have to be very prudent in such a
wild country.
[Sidenote: _AFRICAN WILD BOAR._]
So we moved our traps a few miles off and built our camp; this was
hardly done when a storm burst upon us, and the rain poured down by
bucketsful, and the thunder and the lightning was something terrific. It
was a good thing that our shades were right, for we should have been wet
to the skin.
Early the next morning I shouldered my rifle and set off for the wildest
part of the wood with friends Malaouen and Querlaouen, who now felt
quite happy since we had left the abandoned village. The woods were
pretty hard to go through, for the hunting-paths had not been used
often, for fear of the Bakalai living in the Ashankolo.
In this gigantic forest there is a most extraordinary kind of wild boar,
its body being of a bright red-yellow color, somewhat like that of an
orange. How strange they look as they wander through the forest,
sometimes a few together, at other times twenty or thirty, or even
larger numbers!
That morning we got into new and fresh tracks of the wild boars; the
earth was all uprooted by their snouts. I am sure they had not come to
the place a half-hour before we did, and what a havoc they had made! We
followed the tracks in hot haste; soon we could hear their grunts, and
we thought they must be numerous by the noise they made.
How to approach them was the difficult question; for if there is any
wild game, this is certainly one of the wildest sort I know. If there
had been two or three of them together we might not have had so much
difficulty in approaching them; but how were we to approach so many
without being detected?
So we concluded to go by a roundabout way and try to get ahead of them,
and then lay in ambush, waiting for them to pass.
The wild boars were in a valley, where the ground was somewhat soft, and
they would, I thought, continue to follow it. In the midst of this
valley there was a beautiful little rivulet of clear water meandering
crookedly on in the same uneven manner as the narrow valley itself,
which was flanked on each side by tremendous high hills, covered like
the valley and all the country round with gigantic trees, which bore
different kinds of fruits and nuts.
Then we concluded to ascend a hill close by and descend in as swift a
manner as we could into the valley on the other side, which was the same
one in which we were standing: by doing so, we could make a short cut
and get ahead of the wild boars, and then choose our ground and wait for
them.
The plan succeeded perfectly. After crossing, we found a huge dead tree
fallen on the ground, and behind it we hid ourselves.
Soon we heard the grunts of the wild boars coming; we were delighted; we
looked at our guns, then fixed the barrels on the trunk of the tree,
raised our heads hardly above it, and only so high that our eyes could
get a glimpse at the wild boars.
[Sidenote: _A PIECE OF STRATEGY._]
Here they come! I can see them through the jungle, snorting
unconsciously and eating what they have uprooted. How little do they
think there are such formidable enemies close at hand! They came nearer
and nearer. Then after looking at each other, as if to say, Is it time?
we took steady aim, put our fingers on the triggers, and bang! bang!
bang! our three guns went off at the same time, three wild boars biting
the ground, and the others giving tremendous leaps. Four of them, crazy
with fright, came rushing along, leaping over the trunk of the trees
behind which we were hidden, and right above our heads. My goodness! if
they had come down upon us they would have completely smashed us. I
turned round, fired my second shot, and bagged another.
“Four wild boars are killed!” we shouted with frantic joy!
[Illustration: KILLING FOUR WILD BOARS.]
What splendid animals two of them were! How big! The wild boars of the
black forest in Germany could not have compared with them.
This wild boar is a new species, and I have called it _Potamochœrus
albifrons_: that is to say, white-fronted.
What strange-looking animals! They had a long muzzle, and on each side
there was a large warty protuberance half-way between the nose and the
eyes. These, and a singular sort of bristle, surround the eyes. The
ears, which are long and ended in tufts of coarse hair, give the animal
a strange expression. The bodies of the boars were of the color I have
mentioned.
On my return to the United States, in 1860, I gave a full description of
this curious animal, and of many others I discovered, before the Boston
Society of Natural History. I have always retained a pleasant
recollection of my visit to that society, of its president, Professor
Jeffries Wyman, of its secretary, my friend Dr. Kneeland, and of many
other members, who were very kind to me.
But how to take away that meat? We could by no possible means carry the
meat of four wild boars. So myself and Malaouen were to keep watch and
sleep in the forest while Querlaouen would go and fetch the people to
assist us.
This _Potamochœrus albifrons_ is a great jumper. I have seen no antelope
that could leap as it does; one day I saw three of them leap over the
Ovenga River, the distance being thirty or forty yards. It was the dry
season, and one of them fell into the water. The bank from which they
sprung was much higher than the opposite one.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXVI.
IN THE WILD FOREST.—HOSTILE TRIBES.—AN INTRENCHED CAMP.—FORAYS FOR
PROVISIONS.
I am in the midst of the densest and wildest part of the forest,
situated not far from the Ashankolo Mountains.
Who are these three wild-looking men that are with me?
They are Querlaouen, Malaouen, and Gambo.
What are we doing seated on the ground, each one of us seeming so
thoughtful?
We are holding a grand council.
The country to which we have come is a very dangerous one, for war is
raging in the Ashankolo land; and though the Ovenga River lies between
us and the Ashankola people, and though we are at a good distance from
them, we do not feel safe. They might come to hunt in this very region.
The Bakalais of the Ovenga were at war with them, or rather the
Ashankolo had declared war against the people of the Ovenga, and had
killed two men a few weeks before belonging to the village of a chief
called Anguilai.
We ran the chance of being killed at night when asleep if these fellows
discovered where we were; and during the day they might lie in ambush
for us, or they might go and fetch a great number of people to attack
us.
These were some of the many thoughts that suggested themselves to us as
we talked matters over together.
Besides Malaouen, Querlaouen, and Gambo, we had two boys with us; one
was named Njali and the other Nola.
We agreed that the first thing we must do was to build an intrenched
camp.
You will all say at once, “What a wild and reckless set of fellows you
were to choose such a place for a hunting-ground!”
So we were. We seemed to delight in danger for the sake of the
excitement it afforded.
So, having made up our minds what to do, we rose, and taking in one hand
our gun and in the other an axe, we went bravely to work and cut long
poles about fifteen feet in length, which we brought to the place we had
chosen for our camp. As we cut these young trees we laid our guns close
by; we did not stop cutting these poles until we had a few hundreds of
them, and for three days we were at work as hard as we could.
After we had collected all the poles we commenced building. We had
chosen a place where four large trees made the four corners of a square.
They were about thirty feet apart from each other. We then begun to
drive palisades, making them go down about six inches into the ground;
these we tied close together with strong lianas we had collected, until
at last the square was finished. We cut all the underbrush inside, and
made a very clean place for the interior of our fort.
[Sidenote: _AN INTRENCHED CAMP._]
Then the question was how to get inside? So we made two ladders, one of
creepers, flexible like ropes, for the outside; the other, for the
inside, was a very strong step-ladder. For the latter we cut two poles,
and tied crossed sticks upon them for steps. This ladder, as we have
said, was for the inside, so that after we should reach the top of the
palisade we could pull inside our ladder made of creepers, and that
would thus be quite safe, for we knew that no one could leap over the
palisade.
We then, in the inside of the palisade, stuck leaves upon the walls, so
that if perchance any one came they could not get a peep at us.
In the interior of our square there was a somewhat tall, slender tree,
up which we could climb and observe our enemies, and get a good shot at
them in case we should be attacked; besides this, we had made a good
many loop-holes about seven feet above the ground, so that no one
outside could see through them, and before each we had made a high stand
from which we could fire upon them at our ease.
How glad we were when it was over! We had then to build some huts inside
for ourselves, to shelter us from the rain. We built roofs for these
huts, which we covered with the bark of trees, and under it we built an
orala, to smoke the meat we might get from the game we should kill.
These oralas are made in the following manner. Four sticks about four
feet in height, which are forked, are stuck in the ground, then cross
sticks join these, and across them are laid quite a number of sticks.
This orala was of course one of the most useful and necessary things we
required.
Then we built another shelter for myself, and how careful they were
about this; it was a real hut, eight feet long, six feet broad, with
walls five feet high, and the ridge of the roof about eight feet in
height from the ground. There I slept; the powder was carefully stored,
and much of it, together with bullets, were buried in the ground, so
that if any one should come when we were absent they would not know
where our ammunition was. My four men built also another hut for
themselves.
These huts were in the centre of the yards. By the time we had finished
our camp, our plantains and our smoked cassada were stored away
carefully; fortunately the coola nut was there abundant, and we would
have plenty to eat.
We had three very nice dogs with us, splendid hunters; besides, they
would keep watch at night and warn us of danger.
We had also four Ashinga nets; each one of us had his own gun and a
spare gun also.
Malaouen, Gambo, Querlaouen, and I were to hunt, while the boys were to
attend to the fire-wood and to our cooking, and also were to collect the
wild nuts or berries of the forest.
All this work was finished, and we went into the forest and collected a
large quantity of fire-wood, and I can assure you that we had real hard
work, and I wish you could have seen us. I stood on the top and threw in
the inside of the fort the wood that was handed to me by the others.
At last a great pile of fire-wood was safely stored inside, and we could
withstand a siege. A little brook rose from under a rock inside of our
palisade not far from one of the big trees, so that we had plenty of
water to drink; it was a beautiful little spring.
We felt very cosy and safe. We had only two cooking-pots with us. I had
a good deal of tobacco, for I knew Querlaouen, Malaouen, and Gambo to be
tremendous smokers, and they seemed to enjoy their pipes so much in the
evening when the day’s work was over.
[Sidenote: _HUNTING WITH ASHINGA NETS._]
The medicines I had taken with me were quinine, laudanum, rhubarb, and a
few other articles. I had also a bottle of brandy, which I intended to
preserve most carefully for a case of need.
So, after every thing was built, one fine morning we ascended the inside
steps, hung down our outside ladder, and came out. We had with us the
Ashinga nets, with which we were going to hunt. We spread them in the
forest in the same manner as I have described to you in “Stories of the
Gorilla Country;” but instead of being many we were only four people,
and we had only four Ashingas, yet we were very successful; we trapped
two charming gazelles, called ncheri; and a nchombi, another beautiful
little gazelle of reddish color, and captured also a kind of wild cat,
which got entangled, and which we had to kill on the spot with the
butt-end of our guns.
I ordered the men not to kill the nchombi and one of the ncheri, which
we seized and tied with native creepers and carried to our camp, since I
wished to keep them alive if possible.
It was a pretty good day’s hunt, considering that we had not fired a
gun, and that we had not been more than three miles from our camp.
As we approached our fort we gave the signal agreed upon, which was
three separate whistles, imitating the cry of a certain bird called
_pipiyo_.
Soon the heads of the boys peeped out; they brought and fastened the
rope-ladder outside, and greeted us with a smile which showed their nice
filed teeth, and cast sly glances at the game which we had brought.
We were glad when we were inside, for our live stock had not been very
easy to carry; besides, the Ashingas were heavy.
We immediately loosened the cords of the ncheri and nchombi, who for a
few minutes could not walk, but soon afterward found their legs and made
most tremendous leaps, cutting up wonderful capers. They were perfectly
wild, but it was of no use, they could not leap over the palisades.
Part of the ncheri that had been killed was cut and cooked, and we had a
most delicious meal. We went to sleep in safety, but nevertheless we
kept our guns by our sides.
Early the next morning Querlaouen and I went to see if our little canoe,
that had carried us up the river, and which we had hidden in a little
narrow creek somewhat remote from the main river, was still there, and
also to see if we would not meet with strange human foot-prints, which
might indicate the near presence of an enemy and that we had been
discovered. We came back perfectly satisfied that no one had discovered
our whereabouts and that our canoe was quite safe. So we returned to
tell the news, and in the afternoon we went and set traps for monkeys,
which were evidently somewhat abundant, as we could hear their
chattering all day long. Querlaouen, besides his gun, had an axe with
him, and I carried my huge hunting-knife.
We came to a little spring and felled a small tree across for the monkey
to use as a bridge; then not far from the end of the tree or bridge we
bent a bough, at the extremity of which we made a ring. This ring,
touching the bridge, was fixed in such a manner that the monkey would
have to pass through it to go to the other side, and in doing so would
start a spring, when the ring would fly up before the monkey could get
through it, and thus the animal would be hung by the neck and choked to
death.
[Sidenote: “_NOTHING TO WEAR._”]
We made two of these traps.
Then we went and looked for wild honey, but could not at first see any
bee-hive in the hollows of trees. I had just made up my mind that I
should like to have some honey. Besides, I wanted to get some wax in
order to make some candles.
Just as we were returning to the camp we discovered two bee-hives; we
smoked the bees, and then took the honey-combs.
The next morning I went right to work to make wax with the honey-comb we
had collected. After having boiled it and made the wax, there was a new
difficulty—I had no wick. I had never thought of it before; of course I
had not a bit of cotton with me, and I finally concluded that I would
tear off the lower part of one of the two only shirts I possessed to
make wick. Acting with the thought, I tore the shirt. I had a good deal
of trouble to make these candles. First I dipped the whole length of the
wick in the hot wax, holding each extremity by my hands; then I let the
wax which had adhered to the wick get cold, and dipped again and again
by the same process until I had obtained the size of a candle. I
succeeded in making eight candles.
My clothes were getting very much worn; my pantaloons had been mended
over and over again, and were getting so old and rotten that I did not
know what to do. I wanted to save a pair for the sea-shore. So I
resolved that we should go Ashinga hunting again, and that I would make
clothes from the skins of the wild animals we should capture.
[Illustration: SMOKING OUT THE BEES.]
We all turned out with our Ashingas, leaving, of course, Njali and Nola
to take charge of the premises. We left them the three spare guns. We
took the dogs with us.
We captured, in the first place, a hyena, which I dispatched as it laid
entangled in the net with a bullet through the head. It uttered a
fearful groan. We captured a porcupine, which we killed with a club.
Then we laid unsuccessfully the Ashingas three times, and I began to
think that we would have nothing but hyena for dinner and supper, and no
skins to make clothes with. We must make another trial.
[Sidenote: _MAKING CLOTHES._]
We went a long distance to haul our nets again, and then captured two
ncheris and two nchombis. We killed them on the spot with clubs, and
then returned home.
I insisted on having these four animals skinned, for I wanted their
skins to make a pair of trowsers. We had taken off the hyena skin and
left its body on the spot, no one fancying the meat, especially as we
had other game to eat.
Njali and Nola received us with open arms, but did not show their heads
above the fence until they had heard our peculiar whistle. I was glad of
our success, for I wanted some clothes very much.
I dried the skins, and then tried to tan them by beating them, and using
the bark of a certain tree. Then with the fibres of the leaves of the
pine-apple I made some thread; and I had with me strong needles, which I
used in preparing the skins of animals. I cut these skins in such a
shape that I thought I would make from them a pretty comfortable pair of
pantaloons.
I wish you had seen me dressed in those pantaloons. They were very tough
and hard. Then I made a kind of shirt with the skin of the hyena; that
is, I joined two flat pieces together, left a hole for my head to pass
through, and on each side holes for my arms. I did not want any sleeves.
This hyena shirt was short, and only reached my waist. How strangely I
looked, dressed in these long shaggy skins!
Afterward we went to work, and closed with sticks and branches of trees
a little shallow creek—almost a pond—which communicated with a larger
one, in order to prevent the fish from going out, and thus there was a
prospect of having plenty of fish to eat. Then, when this work was done,
we went again in search of bee-hives, which are abundant in these
forests. We discovered two, which were very high, and, of course, in the
hollow of the trees. We concluded to come and smoke them out the next
day.
These two hives were made by two different kinds of bees, one very small
black kind, looking almost like a little fly, and the other by a bee of
the size of our bees in America; the honey of the latter is excellent
when the comb is white and new.
So after all we were, I thought, in a pretty good country, but
unfortunately not very safe, on account of its warlike inhabitants;
hence we were always on the alert for fear that they might find our
whereabouts.
[Illustration: TRAPPING THE MONKEY.]
[Sidenote: _A TRAPPED MONKEY._]
The next day Querlaouen and I, when visiting monkey traps, found that a
beautiful ndova had been caught. He was hanging high in the air quite
dead, but the body still warm. It had just been trapped.
These ndovas are most beautiful monkeys, being among the prettiest I
have ever seen. This was very large, and such a fat one! The face of
Querlaouen grinned with joy at the thought of the splendid feast he was
to have on our return. The fur is splendid.
These ndovas are very abundant in the forests of Africa, and the hair is
of a beautiful dark color.
The great peculiarity of the animal is his perfectly white nose. How
strange they look while peeping at you in the forest with that strange
white spot! They are called by naturalists white-nosed monkeys.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXVII.
WE DISCOVER HUMAN FOOT-PRINTS.—WE SPY OUT THE ENEMY.—A FEMALE
GORILLA.—MATERNAL FONDNESS.
One morning, just at daylight, Querlaouen and I, without saying a word
to Gambo and Malaouen, scaled our palisade with the ladder and went to
look after the traps we had made for the monkeys, in order to see if we
had caught some more.
We were going silently into the forest, and as noiselessly as we could,
in the hope of seeing an antelope or wild boar, or some other kind of
wild animal on our way. At last we reached the banks of a little stream,
situated, as I judged, about six or seven miles from our camp, when lo!
Malaouen and I saw what threw us into a great state of excitement.
Human foot-prints!
Yes, there was no mistake about it; there were eight foot-prints in the
mud on the banks of the creek, and these were the marks of four men who
had been there. They were fresh tracks.
Who were they?
Were they warlike Bakalais of the Ashankolo country? Were they enemies
or friends?
[Sidenote: _WE DISCOVER FOOT-PRINTS._]
Querlaouen and I looked in each other’s face without saying a word, and
by instinct both of us looked most carefully at our guns, and we began
to mistrust every tree around us, for some one might be hiding behind
them, and getting ready to send a bearded spear through us.
[Illustration: WE DISCOVER FOOT-PRINTS.]
We did not like at all the idea of people being in our hunting-ground,
but we liked still less the idea that these people might be our enemies.
My pair of revolvers were in good order, and I do not know why, but I
always felt very strong and reckless when I had them with the belt
holding them round my waist, and that very morning I felt confident and
secure.
After consultation, we concluded that we would follow the foot-prints to
the point they had come from, which we did, and at last reached a spot
where we saw a small canoe tied to a tree. This canoe certainly did not
belong to any people we knew, and consequently must come from some far
village situated on the very head-waters of the Ovenga River, and
belonged no doubt to those savage and warlike Bakalai inhabiting that
wild mountainous region.
Our great object was to prevent them from following our tracks, and thus
finding our camp. What was to be done?
Our foot-prints were mixed with theirs, and my shoes had left
unmistakable marks of their heels and soles, and I wondered what those
fellows would think in seeing them. My only hope was that they would be
seized with terror, and that in those marks they might see the tokens of
a mighty spirit.
Close by, entering into that creek, there was a beautiful little rivulet
of clear water, whose pebbly bed suggested to me that we had better
follow its course, and then make a short cut and find our way the best
we could.
Another idea occurred to me that Querlaouen and I had better ascend some
tree not far off, and wait and see really who these men were.
[Sidenote: _WHAT WE SAW._]
So we ascended the pebbly stream, leaving no marks behind us, and then
made for the forest again, and proceeded almost to the spot where the
canoe was. Not far from there were two short trees, the thick foliage of
which would shelter us from any ordinary gaze, and whose heavy limbs
would afford us comfortable rest. These two trees were very close
together. Querlaouen ascended one, and I ascended the other by the help
of the lianas and creepers which hung from their branches to the ground.
Our guns were slung on our backs. We never uttered a word, but fixed
ourselves as comfortably as we could, and in such manner that we could
fire at our enemies if attacked. Malaouen looked at his gun. I did the
same, and then petted my two revolvers, as if to say, You, boys, are the
good fellows for a true fight.
We were as silent as two statues, waiting patiently for something to
turn up.
At last we thought we heard voices in the far distance, which we had at
first taken for the chatter of monkeys. The noise came nearer and
nearer, and we finally distinguished the sound of human voices.
I got so excited that I could hardly breathe, and every beat of my heart
became very distinct.
At last we saw four stalwart fellows, tattooed all over, covered with
hunting and war fetiches, armed to the teeth with spears, and two of
them carried Ashinga nets, with which they had been hunting on a small
scale, and had with them one gazelle (a ncheri).
Suddenly coming to their canoe, they saw Querlaouen’s foot-prints, which
threw them into a great state of excitement, when one of them pointed to
the other, my foot-prints, saying, “What are those marks? they must be
the marks of a spirit!” They looked at them, and suddenly an
uncontrollable panic seized the four, and they rushed for their canoe,
seized their paddles, and went down the stream with the utmost
precipitation, as if fire and brimstone were after them.
In the wink of an eye they were out of sight, and Querlaouen and I came
down from our trees. We had not been mistaken. The fellows were Bakalai
of the Ashankola country.
It was late in the day, and there was no hope of our reaching our
fortified camp before dark. We moved toward it, and at sundown we
collected fire-wood, lighted three tremendous piles of it, and soon had
splendid fires, cooked the three plantains each of us had for our
dinner, and after our meal Malaouen and I had a grand chat.
Querlaouen is a splendid fellow. I love him dearly, and we are sworn
friends. I feel that if any one should try to injure or kill him I
should fight to the death for him. He is so brave, he is so
kind-hearted, such a noble specimen of a savage as we seldom see! I wish
I could have only been able to root out of him his belief in witchcraft
and fetiches.
Querlaouen then told me his history.
“Chaillee,” said he, “my father belonged to a clan which lived in the
Ashankolo Mountains, and in his younger days had crossed a large river,
called the Ngouyai. He was the chief of a village, and a great warrior.
In the country where we lived there was nothing but fighting and
fighting; village was against village, and often brother against
brother; not a day passed that some one was not killed. You know our
mode of warfare; we kill any one, old man, woman, or babe—we have no
mercy. One night my father’s village was attacked. We fought and fought,
and at last repulsed the enemy, who fled in dismay. My father was
killed, two sisters of mine were killed, also several other people of
the village. Then we moved toward the banks of the Ovenga; we soon came
down the stream, and now I have grown a man, and live where my village
is. I only wish you would live all the time among us. We should take
such care of you.”
[Sidenote: _A FEMALE GORILLA._]
After fixing our fires we went to sleep, and early the next morning we
made for our camp. We had hardly gone two miles into the woods, when lo!
I heard a kind of chuckle which told me that a gorilla was not far off.
The sound came from a densely-wooded and dark ravine, and from the very
bottom of it. When we reached the place we found it to be one of those
ugly bogs where you go knee deep into the mud, walking on the roots of
trees, and sometimes get stuck fast in this position.
The gorilla was right in the midst of the bog; it was a female, and at
every moment we expected to see a large male standing before us, roaring
like a demon, and asking us what we came to do in this dark recess of
the forest, where it had made its abode with his wife, and perhaps his
baby gorilla.
How carefully we looked at our guns! how watchful our eyes were! We were
not to be easily surprised. The bog was like one of the worst kind we
have in America in the overflowed and woody land of the Western country;
only here we have creepers, thorny bushes, and hanging lianas, and grass
that cuts like a razor.
We entered the swamp, and went nearer and nearer the sound we had heard
first, and came to a dry spot, when lo! we spied a female gorilla and
her young baby. The baby was very small, a very dear little baby it was
to its mother, for she appeared with her extremely black face, to look
at it with great fondness. I was disarmed; I could not possibly fire. I
seemed spell-bound, and could not raise my gun to fire. Yes, there was
something too human in that female and her offspring; it hung by her
breast, but, unlike our babies, who have to be entirely supported, its
little hands clutched its mother’s shoulders and helped it to support
itself. The little fellow gave a shrill and plaintive cry, and crawled
from its mother’s arms to her breast to be fed, and the mother lowered
her head and looked at her offspring, and with his little fingers he
pressed and pressed her breast, so that the milk could come more freely.
On a sudden the mother gave a tremendous cry, and before I knew it she
had disappeared through the forest.
I would not have missed this scene for a great deal, and I wish that you
had all been with me to see it, for I know that perhaps such scenes may
never be seen again by a civilized man; I knew that it had never been
seen before. The gorilla will one day disappear. A day will come when he
who writes these pages will have been long dead and forgotten, but
perhaps the record of what he has seen may, like the record of Hanno,
fall into the hands of some one, and it will be read like a strange
tale.
I have brought away, altogether, thirty-one gorilla skins and skeletons;
I have captured more than a dozen live gorillas, young ones, of course,
and, altogether, I must have seen at different times during my twelve
years’ explorations more than three hundred of them.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
CHAPTER XXVIII.
HOW WE WERE RECEIVED AT CAMP.—THREATENED WITH STARVATION.—A NIGHT IN
CAMP.—MALAOUEN’S STORY.
We left the gorilla scene I have just described to you in the preceding
chapter, and made for our camp. As we came in sight of it Querlaouen
gave the peculiar whistle agreed upon to announce our arrival, and soon
after we saw the head of Gambo and Malaouen peeping out above the fence,
also the heads of the two boys Njali and Nola.
The ladder was handed down to us; soon we were inside, and, before I
knew it, Malaouen was hugging me as hard as he could; when he had done,
and before I had time to breathe and free myself from his embrace
entirely, I was hugged by friend Gambo. The boys jumped around, and
there was tremendous excitement in the camp. The poor fellows had been
very anxious, and did not know what had become of us. When night came
they became very uneasy; perhaps we had been killed by the Ashankolo
Bakalai, or by some wild beasts.
Gambo, looking with pride into Malaouen’s face, said, “Did I not tell
you that they would come back all safe?” They were washed with the chalk
of the Alumbi, covered with their fetiches, and had gone through all
sorts of heathen ceremonies to find out whether we were safe. The little
wooden idol of Gambo had also been consulted. Gambo is a celebrated
doctor who can tell future events; and, as a proof, he pointed us to his
friend, shouting, “Did I not tell you that they would return safely?”
Both Gambo and Malaouen had been looking at us with keen eyes upon our
arrival, to know if we had come with a well-provided larder, and seemed
somewhat disappointed when they saw us empty-handed, for they had
fancied us coming back with a fat monkey or a nice gazelle.
There was nothing in the camp, with the exception of the nchombi and
ncheri gazelles which we had kept alive, and these I did not wish to
kill then. So we concluded that Gambo and the two boys should go to a
secluded plantation belonging to Malaouen and gather plantains, while
Malaouen, Querlaouen, and myself would go hunting and try to kill a wild
boar. It was the season when these latter were splendid eating. In the
mean time we would collect nuts and live upon them; if we could not find
these, we would then quietly starve, waiting for Gambo and the boys with
their plantains.
We all bade good-by to friend Gambo, and to Njali and Nola, wishing them
good luck and plenty of nuts on the road to fill their empty stomachs;
and as they disappeared they reciprocated our wishes about the nuts, and
we had a jolly laugh.
After Gambo’s departure we held a great council, and agreed that we had
better empty the little creek we had dammed to prevent the fish from
going out, and see if we would meet with good fortune there. So we took
our kettle with us, and every thing else that could draw water, and
started, leaving our camp entirely unprotected. I need not tell you that
we had our guns, and plenty of powder, shot, and bullets.
[Illustration: ARRIVAL AT THE STOCKADE.]
[Sidenote: _DRAINING OUR FISH-POND._]
It was no small work to empty this creek or little pond, I can assure
you. For hours we went on dipping our kettles and baskets and throwing
the water out, until at last the water became shallow, and we could see
great quantities of ground fish, called _niozi_, together with other
large ones whose names I forget. These niozi are splendid little fishes,
and the natives think a great deal of them. In the dry season a great
many are caught, and they are smoked and kept for hard times.
We made a bountiful harvest, and had to make baskets with the branches
of trees in order to carry our loads to the camp. Then we lighted fires
under our oralas to smoke the fish, and after cooking we ate some of
them.
We had had a grand success with the fish, and now we determined to try
our hands at a wild boar hunt, which is certainly one of the most
difficult, for the wild boar is very shy in these forests; but when fat,
the animal is the nicest game one can kill, for the flesh is very savory
and delicious.
And successful we were. Two large enormous wild boars were bagged, one
of them by myself—a splendid fellow, weighing several hundred pounds. We
were very thankful that these two fellows were killed within about two
miles from the camp. We disemboweled them, cut their hind and fore
quarters apart, and the rest of the body in large pieces, and brought
the meat to the camp. We had to make several journeys, till I began to
feel so tired that I wished the boar meat anywhere else, but we must
make hay while the sun shines.
In the evening we had bright fires under the oralas. This is the way to
smoke meat here: we boil the meat for a short time, and then put it over
the fire on the oralas, and leave it there until it is perfectly smoked.
What a splendid flavor, and how nice the meat would have been if we
could only have some plantains to eat with it! When is Gambo coming? How
near is he on the road? Have the elephants or gorillas destroyed the
plantation of plantain-trees where they have gone? Such were the
questions we asked ourselves. People can not live on fish and meat
alone. That evening we fed on boar’s meat, thankful for having been so
successful.
The next morning the voice, or rather the peculiar whistle agreed upon
outside, told us that Gambo had come. I was the first to peep my head
above the fence, when I saw friend Gambo and Njali and Nola loaded with
plantain and cassada, and we gave them a grand hurrah of welcome.
I wish you could have seen the face of Gambo as he looked at the
wild-boar meat which was being smoked; he was tremendously hungry, he
said, as soon as he saw the meat. So we prepared food ourselves for
them, as we wanted them to rest, they looked so tired. They ate such
quantities of wild boar! I was glad they had brought some Cayenne pepper
with them and some lemons. I had some salt, but no one could take any
without my permission.
We remained in the camp all day, lying down on our beds of leaves and
taking naps from time to time, my men meanwhile smoking their pipes and
telling stories. Gambo swore that he saw a ghost, a real evil spirit,
and they all believed it except myself. We had a grand time listening to
Gambo’s stories. The boys swore that what Gambo said was all true. They
had seen the ghost too.
[Sidenote: _A NIGHT IN CAMP._]
If you could have had a peep at us, you would have seen us inside of our
fortress by the side of a bright fire round our orala, enjoying and
warming ourselves. We were perfectly happy; how the men seemed to enjoy
their smoke of tobacco! Malaouen had been collecting some palm wine, and
each of them had had a good draught of the beverage—the empty calabash
was now lying by their side.
Our nchombi and ncheri were getting somewhat tame, and were lying on the
ground not far from us. They had got accustomed to the fire and to
ourselves. Our dogs were there also; the poor fellows had had a hard
fare of late.
Each one of us had one hand resting on his gun, which was supported by a
forked stick, stuck in the ground for that purpose, and our hunting-bag
was hung by the side of the gun. In our bags we had each of us a flask
full of powder, two or three scores of bullets, and shot of two or three
sizes. We could seize all these in an instant, if danger were to
threaten us. In such a wild country people must never fancy themselves
secure, and must be always ready for any emergency, for any fighting
against the savages, or against the attacks of the ferocious leopard;
and I got so accustomed to carry arms that I never left my gun by itself
if I went anywhere, however short the distance might be; my revolvers,
of course, hanging always by my side.
I was dressed with the clothes I had made from the skins of wild
animals. I wish I could have gone into the woods like my men, that is to
say, with almost nothing to cover them.
If you could have had a peep at us, you would have seen us as I have
just been describing ourselves to you; and I have no doubt many of you
would have been glad to join our party. I love to look back upon those
days. It was a wild life indeed, one that no civilized man had led
before me, for no one had ever gone into such a country.
Friend Malaouen then told us the story of a leopard, and began thus:
“When I was a boy our clan lived on the banks of the Rembo Ngouyai, a
river which flows the other side of the Ashankolo Mountains, and which
you have not seen, Chaillee.
“The village where my parents lived was very large, and, as the people
were always at war, it was fenced about. While there, one of our men
disappeared, and was changed into a leopard. From that time people from
time to time began to disappear; they were carried away by that leopard,
and we could only see the clots of blood left behind, but could not
trace them into the woods. We were afraid—for nothing is so terrible as
a leopard that was once a man. No spear can go through him, no trap can
ever catch him, and woe to the man who ever tries to face the beast;”
and, as Malaouen said this, his face and that of Querlaouen and Gambo
contracted themselves with fear; their superstitions were very strong,
and overcame the great courage they possessed. I could hear distinctly
the breathing of each man, as by instinct each seized his gun near by.
Then Malaouen continued:
[Sidenote: _A WOMAN CHANGED INTO A LEOPARD._]
“One day several women had gone to the plantation with me, and as we
returned to the village, it was just getting dark, when lo! I heard a
tremendous, a fearful scream from the woman ahead of me, and I had just
time to see through the darkness a tremendous leopard carrying her away
into the woods. We all shouted, but in vain. All became silent; the
leopard had disappeared with its prey. Fear seized upon us, and we made
off for the village with the utmost speed.
“When we brought the news, there was great consternation and wailing,
for the woman who had been taken away was very beautiful.
“The next day we danced round the mbuiti, and the mbuiti told us that we
should kill the leopard.
“So thirty men prepared themselves for the hunt. We cooked the war dish,
bled our hands, covered ourselves with our war fetiches, marked our
bodies with the ochre of the Alumbi, invoked the spirits of our
ancestors to be with us, and departed.
“The day before some people came to the place where they had seen the
leopard’s foot-prints, and not far off was a tremendous jungle, very
thick, and several trees had been brought down by a tornado. The
leopard’s lair was there.
“At last we came round the lair. Some said the leopard was not there,
while others said he was. In the mean time we shouted, and all the time
our spears were in readiness, and the dogs were barking; we had a hope
that it would spring on one of them, then we would transpierce it with
our spears.
“When a man who said the leopard was not there first entered the jungle,
he had hardly made a step into it, when lo! a terrible cry sprung from
among us. The leopard, which was probably watching, with a tremendous
leap sprung on the intruder, his claws fastened deeply into his
shoulder, and the teeth of his powerful jaws holding the neck of the
man, who uttered a fearful shriek. In less time than I can tell you the
leopard was covered with the spears that had gone through him; he
dropped down dead with the man whom he had killed.”
They all shouted, “Yes, this leopard had been once a man who was
possessed with witchcraft.”
My breath was becoming short with excitement, and I was glad when the
story was over, for the sweat was fast coming down from my face.
We turned the meat on the other side on the orala, and left our three
native dogs, Kambi, Goa and Andeko, to take care of the premises (they
were now lying by the fires, enjoying the heat thoroughly), and then we
went to sleep.
During the night I woke, thinking I heard a booming sound like that of
heavy footsteps, when the dogs began to bark, and soon I heard a crash
through the forest. It was a herd of elephants which was wandering not
far from us, and then the forest resumed its wonted stillness.
Now I had remained a long time at the head-waters of the Ovenga—a long
time has gone by since the last chapter. Months had been spent in that
region, and I thought now of descending the river to visit my settlement
of Washington on the sea-side. It was high time. I was still suffering
from fever attacks, and had not quinine enough left for a large dose.
[Sidenote: _DESIRE TO RETURN._]
Not only was I sick, but also poor and ragged. My clothes were torn and
patched, and I looked in reality very little better than my negro
friends. My stock of powder was small, my bullets were nearly exhausted,
and my small shot were almost gone. I was wearing my last pair of shoes.
My goods were all gone, and skins of animals made a great part of my
garments.
The numerous hardships of this long trip; the sleeping night after night
in wet clothes; the tramping through rain, through rivers, and under the
hot sun; the sufferings from the intolerable _gouamba_, and the still
less tolerable starvation; the attacks of fever that followed one upon
the other—all these had done their work upon me. Food had been scarce,
very scarce for a long time, and I began to feel as if I wanted a long
rest. I wanted to breathe the salt air; I wanted to see the deep blue
sea, and to look at the waves which came in heavy surfs upon the beach;
I wanted to see that sea on which I expected to sail one day for home.
Do you not think that I deserved to go back? I had worked hard, very
hard. I had made beautiful collections; and I was to carry with me
gorillas, hippopotami, manatee, nshiego-mbouvé, kooloo-kamba, no end of
birds (more than two thousand), a great many monkeys, and the skins of
several hundreds of animals. I had worked hard to kill them, and worked
still harder to stuff them, hunting them during the day, and preparing
their skins during the night. So I told friend Quengueza we must go.
I called the Bakalai together and told friend Obindji that his Ntangani
must leave him. As soon as I said this, the old chief said, “Neshi (no).
What will Obindji do without his Ntangani?” They all shouted, “What
shall we do without our Ntangani?” The women shouted, “Chaillee, you
must not go!”
Gambo, Malaouen, and Querlaouen made long faces and were sad, for we had
a real affection for each other, we were such great friends, and how
could it be otherwise? We had braved danger together; we had gone
through hardships and starvation together; many and many a night had we
spent together in the forest. Of any wild animal they killed I was sure
to have a piece; the best plantains were sure to be mine; the nicest
fishes their women caught they brought to me. How kind they were to me,
how gentle! No children could have been more docile, and yet how fierce,
how brave, when the day of battle or of danger came!
I was sorry to leave, for I had come to love these wild men who had
never seen a white man before. I had also a kind of affection for the
country, where, in the discovery of new and strange animals, I had
enjoyed one of the greatest pleasures a naturalist can have. The rough
life was forgotten when I looked at my precious collections, and the
thought of a gorilla even now enabled me to shake off the fever, and
gave strength to my feeble limbs.
Quengueza, too, was tired of bush life, and had several times sworn that
he had never known a man like me; that he could not understand what was
moving me; that I had a heart of njego (leopard). His Majesty called
those Bakalais his bushmen, and to whatever village he would set his
foot he had a right at once to at least a wife.
[Illustration: GOOD-BYE TO THE BAKALAIS.]
[Sidenote: _PARTING DEMONSTRATIONS._]
Quengueza is the best friend I ever had in Africa, indeed one of the
best friends I ever had anywhere. This old and powerful chief—the dread
in his younger days of all the tribes around—the man whom every body
respected, the man whose word was law, was gentle with me, was kind to
me, and never did a single mean thing, never took any advantage of me;
and whatever I said was sure to be attended to, if possible.
Going to a hunt, his last words were always to those who went with me,
“Take care of my white man;” and, as he often said, if he had been a
young man he would have gone with us. Every fowl or goat he had he gave
to me, every bit of game his slaves or his friends killed for him was
mine, and when we travelled in company we always ate together, and we
always managed to make a pleasant table. For I wanted to show these
people the difference between civilized and savage life, and Quengueza
always ate with a fork and on a plate. I love old Quengueza, and it
makes me happy to think that he knows I love him.
As we were preparing to go, my Bakalai friends came in with presents of
provisions. Baskets of cassava, smoked-boar hams, smoked fishes, sweet
potatoes, were brought as free-will offerings.
Malaouen, Gambo, and Querlaouen were always near me, their wives came
every day to see me, and their children were always around me. All the
Bakalai seemed to me to be kinder than ever.
Good Obindji seemed so sorry! The evening before my departure I called
him into my hut and gave him a nice coat and a red cap, which I had kept
especially for him, and to his head-wife I gave a necklace of large
beads. I did not forget friends Malaouen, Gambo, and Querlaouen.
When the morning arrived, our canoes were on the beach. I was on the
shore ready to embark; Obindji stood near me; every woman and man
brought to me a parting gift. I was very much touched by their simple
ways.
When all was ready for a start, Macondai, my boy, fired a gun, and then
I swung the American flag to the breeze, the first time that it or any
other flag of a civilized nation was over these waters. The people
shouted, and we were off; and as we glided down, and before we
disappeared by the bend of the river, I saw Obindji’s hand waving
farewell to me.
Presently several miles down the stream we passed Querlaouen’s
plantation. He and his kind wife and their children stood on the shore
and beckoned me to stop. We paddled in, and the good fellow silently put
into my canoe another smoked-boar ham, while his wife gave me a great
basket of sweet potatoes. As we started away again, the wife shouted,
“When you come back bring me some beads.” The children cried out, “When
you come back bring us some clothes.” But old Querlaouen stood still and
silent, like a black statue, until, by a turn of the river, he was lost
to our sight.
Quengueza accompanied me to Washington and Biagano, and all of the
Goumbi people that had canoes accompanied us, beating tam-tams, singing
songs, and firing guns as we descended the stream.
Quengueza was bringing back safely to Ranpano his friend Chaillee. At
last we reached the place where the old bamboo house was, and the whole
population turned out to receive me, headed by King Ranpano and old
Rinkimongani, my housekeeper, and brother to the King. I found my house
undisturbed, all my valuables and goods safe, and my live stock on hand
and in good condition, and made old Rinkimongani very proud by
expressing my satisfaction. He said, “Now you tell me what I stole?” And
King Ranpano exclaimed, “Ah! we don’t steal from our white man. We are
people, we have a heart that feels, we love our white man, for he is the
first that ever came to live among us.”
[Sidenote: _AU REVOIR._]
And now I must say good-by again to you; and I wish that, in reading
this book, you may think that you have been travelling with me for a
while in the great forests of the Equatorial regions of Africa. I have
many more things to say to you, but will wait for another year before I
do so.
I hope that I have been able to instruct as well as to amuse you, and
that, as the years go by, and you become men and women, you may remember
some of the stories I have told you. Some of you, no doubt, have seen
me, while others do not know me. My great wish is that you may think
kindly of me, and remember him who will always be happy to call himself
the boys’ and girls’ friend.
[Illustration: FINIS]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DU CHAILLU’S
EQUATORIAL AFRICA.
EXPLORATIONS AND ADVENTURES IN EQUATORIAL AFRICA: with Accounts of the
Manners and Customs of the People, and of the Chase of the Gorilla,
the Crocodile, Leopard, Elephant, Hippopotamus, and other Animals.
By PAUL B. DU CHAILLU, Author of “Stories of the Gorilla Country,”
“Wild Life under the Equator,” &c. With numerous Illustrations. 8vo,
Cloth, $5 00.
“The notes and descriptions of a man of uncommon nerve and daring.
They trace the course of a traveller who, forsaking all beaten tracks,
plunged into the wilds of a country where no white man appears to have
preceded him, and who brings before us tribes marked by hideous moral
degradation, and yet of not unhopeful prospects; while as a hunter,
sportsman, and naturalist, he has tales to tell which make the ears of
all who hear to tingle.”—_London Review._
“Strikingly attractive and wonderful as are his descriptions, they all
carry in themselves an impress of substantial truthfulness.”—_Sir
Roderick Murchison._
“In this large volume we have not found one page which we were
inclined to skip. We can not too strongly express our admiration of
the undaunted pluck and resolution which carried him to the point
actually accomplished. He performed the whole distance, eight thousand
miles, on foot, and the amount of fever he went through may be judged
of by the fact that he consumed in four years fourteen _ounces_ of
quinine.”—_London Spectator._
“Its literary merits are considerable, for it is clear, lively, and
judiciously pruned of unimportant details. His explorations were in no
degree exempt from the hardships and dangers which are the condition
of African travel. He sojourned among cannibals, panthers, crocodiles,
and snakes—underwent fifty attacks of the fever—walked several hundred
miles on foot, and was constantly in a condition so nearly bordering
on starvation that he was sometimes, for days together, without any
other food than roots and berries.”—_London Saturday Review._
“We must go back to the voyages of La Perouse and Captain Cook, and
almost to the days of wonder which followed the track of Columbus, for
novelties of equal significance to the age of their discovery. Du
Chaillu struck into the very spine of Africa, and lifted the veil of
the torrid zone from its western rivers, swamps, and forests. He found
therein a variety of new types of living creatures, and others which
were only partially and imperfectly known. He sojourned among tribes
or races who feed on their kind, and he encountered the animal more
formidable than any yet heard of.”—_London Times._
“He has contrived to render his name forever memorable in the annals
of geographical discovery. He traveled on foot, unattended by any
other white man, eight thousand miles, secured two thousand birds, and
killed upward of two thousand quadrupeds.”—_London Morning Post._
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
☞ _Sent by mail, postage prepaid, on receipt of $5 00._
DU CHAILLU’S
GORILLA COUNTRY.
STORIES OF THE GORILLA COUNTRY: Narrated for Young People. By PAUL B.
DU CHAILLU, Author of “Discoveries in Equatorial Africa,” “Wild Life
under the Equator,” &c. Profusely Illustrated. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75.
“The stories it contains are full of the kind of novelty, peril, and
adventure which are so fascinating to children.... It is a capital
book for boys.”—_London Spectator._
“Exceedingly interesting—as much so as even ‘Robinson Crusoe’ ever
was—not only to young people on account of its striking novelty and
charming and natural style, but to the aged and learned as well.”—_New
York Herald._
“These stories are entertaining, and are well told, and they are
calculated to impart much knowledge of natural history to youthful
readers.”—_Boston Traveller._
“M. Du Chaillu tells his stories in a ‘once-upon-a-time’ way, with a
personal zest which is quite captivating.”—_Hartford Press._
“Almost a rival of ‘Robinson Crusoe’ for intense interest, while it
has this advantage over that work, that it is a narrative of
facts.”—_Sunday-School Times._
“It is a book for young people—true, every line of it, but full of
action, adventure, enterprise, and peril, and as exciting as a
well-told fairy tale.”—_Philadelphia Press._
“Du Chaillu’s stories of the cannibals, and of his adventures in the
vast forests of Africa, and among the wild beasts and men no less
wild, are told in a picturesque, vivacious style.”—_New York Times._
“Fresh, original narratives related in a style of incomparable
naiveté, and with a delightful confiding tone that must find its way
to the heart of every juvenile lover of the marvels of nature.”—_New
York Tribune._
“Full of rare adventure, and probably what is better, of
truth.”—_Zion’s Herald._
“Too strange, as well as too life-like, not to be true.”—_Christian
Advocate._
PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK.
☞ _Sent by mail, postage prepaid, on receipt of $1 75._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
● Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
● Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.
● Enclosed blackletter font in =equals=.
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