In Savage Africa / Or, The adventures of Frank Baldwin from the Gold Coast to Zanzibar.

One of the huts was at once made over to Tom and me. He made signs we were to remain there till night came, which he intimated by lying down and pretending to go to sleep, and he said, “Fader come.” I found the hut very clean and comfortable, and there being a bed-place made of canes, I, thoroughly tired and worn out, threw myself on it, and was soon sound asleep.

CHAPTER X.

FETICHMEN.

He and the fetichmen had an eager discussion, and at last Tom said, “Bery good—can go;” and leading me to a door in the stockade opposite to that by which we had entered, we went out down a path towards an open marshy plain through which a stream ran, where we found great quantities of ducks and other water-fowl. I was lucky enough, though the gun was but an old flint-lock single barrel, to knock over several, and Tom ran hither and thither to pick them up like a delighted school-boy. At last he pointed out to me a cluster of a dozen ducks on the stream all swimming together, and made signs that I should fire into the middle of them, which I did, killing three and wounding four more. Tom instantly dashed off to secure them. I was with great interest watching him hunting after one of the wounded birds, when suddenly I heard some ducks rising with a loud whirr close behind me. Looking round I saw a huge python, over twenty feet in length, rearing itself up within three feet of me.

I had not reloaded the gun, and, seizing it by the barrel with both hands, I was about to club the snake on the head with it, when suddenly it lowered its head and began to creep away. I called out to Tom, who came running with the ducks, and seeing the snake, said, “Dat be big fetich,” and he signed to me to return to the fetichmen’s village at once.

As we were retracing our steps the snake followed us. Dreadfully scared by the neighbourhood of the huge reptile, we dashed into the enclosure, and it followed us in. When the fetichmen saw the snake, instead of being alarmed, they seemed very much pleased, and while some of them commenced to beat drums and play upon pipes, others opened the entrance into the inner enclosure. The snake made its way right in. Looking in I saw that the whole space inside was full of huge snakes, though none was so large as the monster which had so frightened me.

As soon as it was inside the fetichmen closed the opening again, and surrounded Tom, and began asking him a number of questions. His answers seemed to give them great pleasure, and all the ducks which I had shot were thrown into the snakes for them to feed on. For the new-comer a goat was provided, which, despite its desperate struggles, was forced inside, where instantly the python seized on it, and after reducing it to an almost shapeless mass by coiling itself around it, commenced to swallow it.

I was sitting on the top of the stockade watching this operation, which Tom kept on saying was “bery good,” when we heard yells similar to those by which he had heralded our arrival, and he jumped down from where he was sitting beside me and said, “Dat fader come.”

With Tom and one of the fetichmen we went out to meet Hararu, alias Jack Sprat, who said it was lucky indeed that I had got away from his village when I did, for messengers had come over from Okopa to ask where the white man was who had arrived that morning.

“How can they know anything about it?” I asked.

“How dey sabey? dey sabey plenty quick; one man tell man, him tell noder, so him sabey one time.”

“What am I to do? But are you afraid of Okopa?”

“Okopa no care one lilly bit, but slaver man say him ship come fire s’pose no gib massa up; so me say what time white man come, me gib um chop and gib um coat, and me tell him sleep. What time me come see he run away, he be tief.”

All this seemed very curious to me, for certainly Hararu, when he thought I was a Spaniard, was about to have me killed, and as that did not say much for his fear of the Spaniards, I ventured to suggest this to him.

“Dat palaver true, but what time me carey kill Spagnole me no sabey dat oder Spagnole ship lib for riber. One me sabey break for bar; me tink dat all.”

“But now,” I said, “the Spaniards, if they care about catching me, will know that I can’t go about in the jungle by myself, and will soon find out where I am.”

“Dat be so,” said Jack Sprat, “so what time chicken cry my boy take you long way, and s’pose men come look, no catch Inglishman.”

I was fain to be satisfied with this, and when we all got into the fetichmen’s village Hararu was at once taken to see the big snake, which had now gorged the goat and was lying torpid. He came to me and said I must be a very big fetich, or otherwise the snake would have attacked me.

I wondered at this, as the priest at the snakes’ house at Whydah had said the very same thing. I was very glad to hear it, but I did not think, notwithstanding Jack Sprat’s kindness to me, that his gratitude would go so far as resisting the Spaniards if they came up to search his village for me. I was sure that Pentlea and Camacho, if they had not been lost in the schooner on the bar, would not believe in any fetich story, or that Jack Sprat and his people could not find me.

I was told I must get what rest I could, as the next day we should have to travel far, and we should start very early. So I went to the hut which had been assigned to me and lay down; but I could not sleep, and wondered what possibly could be my future. Evidently I had not been recognized by those on board the Petrel, or my father would never have left the river without an attempt to rescue me. Now I was apparently going to be sent away into the interior, and how I should ever reach the coast again, or get back to England, seemed a mystery. I remembered, however, what I had heard about Livingstone, and thought that, like him, I should keep up a brave heart, and by God’s mercy I might ultimately return home in safety. As I thought of this I remembered I had been neglecting my prayers very much, and so getting off the couch on which I was lying, I knelt and prayed long and heartily for protection, not forgetting to return thanks for the many mercies which had been vouchsafed to me.

When I had finished I heard a noise outside, and trying to open the door of my hut, I found it fastened on the outside. I looked through some chinks in the wall, and I saw that the principal fetichman was alone

in the middle of the village, close to the entrance to the inner enclosure, and was going through some mysterious performances. All the huts were closed, and the only light was that afforded by a small fire.

I watched him for some time whilst he poured from a goat’s horn some fluid into his left hand, and carefully watching the drops as they fell, chanted all the time in a curious kind of a monotone. Evidently he was much puzzled, for sometimes he seemed displeased, and at others he smiled. At last he jumped up and gave a great shout, and running round unfastened the doors of the huts, calling to the inmates to come out.

Fresh fuel was heaped on the fire, and all danced round the place in a weird and uncanny way, only old Jack Sprat refraining from joining. All at once they stopped, and Jack Sprat calling to me to come out, said, “Fetich say you be good; man make good for you; he catch good. Now two tree hour Tom he take you. Canoe lib for riber; four day catch good man he send you one bery big riber where plenty ship come. You catch go your country.”

I thanked the old man for all he was doing, and asked what I could do for him if ever I got back to England.

“Dat be long time,” he said, “and me old. P’raps me die, but tell good men come and make trade for Tom, make book, and no trade with Okopa.”

CHAPTER XI.

AN EXCITING JOURNEY.

I tried to thank the old man for all his kindness; but he would not listen to me, and putting his two hands on my shoulders he gently forced me out of the village, barring the gate behind Tom and me.

I followed Tom along the path which led to where I had been frightened by the snake, and on the stream we found a small canoe made of bark, about eighteen inches wide and twenty feet long, in which a man was waiting for us. Tom made me get into this frail and rickety specimen of naval architecture, and though I had to kneel down in the middle and grip either gunwale with my hands to prevent capsizing the craft, I was astonished to see that Tom and the other man were both able to stand up and paddle.

We were soon flying down the stream, the little canoe trembling under their powerful strokes. In less than a quarter of an hour I saw that in front of us was open water. Immediately afterwards we ran alongside of a canoe manned by a dozen men, into which Tom and I got, and we then commenced the ascent of the Ogowai.

Though we were some way up the river beyond Okopa’s and Hararu’s villages, Tom insisted on perfect silence, as on the other bank all the villages acknowledged Okopa’s authority. We paddled up close under the bushes on Hararu’s side, to avoid the current, and also to be seen as little as possible. The middle of the canoe had a thatch of palm leaves over it, which had been prepared for me by the orders of Jack Sprat, and underneath I found some packages of beads and cloth and other things likely to be useful to me, arranged so that I could either sit or lie down comfortably.

For some time we paddled along in silence. A thick mist which was rising from the river was illumined by the rays of the moon, and we could see the dim forms of the trees as we passed by them. At last I began to hear the sounds of insects and the movements of birds succeeding to the deadly stillness which characterizes the last two hours of the tropical night, and then suddenly it became light. The mist began to roll away down the middle of the river, leaving the part where we were paddling up close to the trees quite clear.

The loveliness of the trees covered with creepers, some of them having flowers and fruit which rose from the water like a sea of foliage, was marvellous to me. The long feathery spikes of the calamus palm (the ratan cane so dearly loved by schoolboys—or by schoolmasters, should I say?) shot out for fifteen or twenty feet above the general surface. Flocks of hornbills and other birds were disturbed as we passed along. As the mist kept getting less and less, we could see spur-wing plovers and other strange birds on the banks, and sitting on the snags which here and there jutted from the water were kingfishers watching for their prey, some being large and of a sober gray, while others were scarcely larger than humming-birds, and rivalled them in the beauty of their plumage.

Tom now began to scan the banks curiously and closely, and urged the men to paddle their strongest and best. Just as the sun showed above the tree-tops he ordered the canoe to stop, and some of the men,

getting into the water, began to remove a portion of a screen of canes which hid the mouth of a creek, into which we ran the canoe and then replaced the canes.

The canoe was now unloaded and sunk, and we all waded a long way up the creek until we came to a small footpath, which we followed. After a time we came to a small clearing where were a couple of huts, and here we prepared to camp for the day, Tom saying, “Bery good, bery good.”

I could not understand what we were doing this for, and asked Tom. After much trouble I made him know what I wanted, when he said, “Okopa man catch nigger lib for riber.” I managed also to get out of him that a large party of Okopa’s people had gone up the river to get slaves for the Spaniards, and might at any moment be met coming down, when they would not let our canoe pass without a fight.

Some of our men slept, some smoked, and some ate; but all the time men were stationed to keep a vigilant outlook in case any of Okopa’s people might find where our canoe was hidden. As the cane screen was similar to hundreds of others made at the mouths of the small streams falling into the Ogowai to catch fish, there was not much chance of its being discovered.

I was now able to overhaul the goods which the kindness of Jack Sprat had provided for me, and every moment found more cause for thankfulness to Providence for having guided me to his village instead of to one belonging to Okopa or any of his allies. Not only did I find a supply of cloth and beads for buying food and paying my way, but I also found another jacket and pair of trousers, and four good white shirts, for my own wear. What I really wanted now was something to protect my head from the sun, for the cap which had been given me was not sufficient, and some kind of shoes to guard my feet from thorns and stones, from which they had already suffered severely.

I explained this to Tom, and he produced a needle, and unravelled a piece of cloth for thread. I cut some pieces of white stuff, which I made into a cover for the cap, with a flap to hang down on my neck behind. Whilst I was doing this Tom had twisted up some fibrous bark into coarse cords, and made me understand that I should sew this together so as to make a kind of sandal. After much trouble I managed to make this cord into two pieces the shape of the soles of my feet. I then fastened into them broad strips of strong cotton cloth, by which I was able to tie them on.

This, and eating the food which Tom brought me at mid-day, kept me pretty well occupied. Late in the afternoon we heard the noise of drums and the song of paddlers, which I soon found proceeded from Okopa’s slaving-party, who were going down the river with their cargo of slaves. Our look-outs kept us informed as to what went on, and reported that five large canoes passed loaded with slaves. As at sunset no more were in sight or hearing, we returned to our canoe, which we baled out and reloaded, and then started again on our voyage up-stream.

We paddled on for some hours in silence. We saw and heard nothing until about eleven o’clock, when we saw on the bank opposite to that by which we were ascending the light of a fire, and heard the screams of people as if in pain, followed almost immediately by a bullet splashing in the water in front of our canoe.

We stopped paddling, and letting the canoe drift back till we were sheltered by a wooded point, began to consult what should be done. We heard fresh screams, and though I could not understand what Tom and the men were saying, they were evidently very excited. Guns were loaded, primings looked to, and knives and axes were brandished. The screams continued, and among them there seemed to be articulate sounds. We pushed out from behind the trees where we had taken shelter, and as we paddled at full speed toward the fire, Tom said, “Okopa man bad; tief wife for dat man,” pointing to one who was standing in the bow of the canoe brandishing his musket and dancing about as if he were possessed.

One or two more shots were fired at us as we drew near; but as the bow of the canoe touched the bank and we all jumped ashore, most of the men who were in charge of the captives fled, only two or three waiting our onslaught. In less time than it takes to write these three were killed, but not before they had inflicted severe wounds on their assailants.

Close to the bank we found some men and women held captive by long logs lashed together, between which one of their feet was secured, so that it was impossible for them to move. In a few moments they were freed, and we were all back into the canoe and paddling for dear life towards the other side of the stream, some of the slaves whom we had freed having taken the paddles of the men who had been wounded.

After some time I made out from Tom that the people we had freed belonged to a village some way up the river, and that while they were on their way to one of the local markets, they had been surprised and made prisoners by a large party of men belonging to Okopa and his allies. The man who had thought that his wife was among them proved to be right—he having many wives in different parts of the country in order to give him influence when he went on any trading expedition. Their captors had fallen behind the main body of Okopa’s men, having stopped to drink with some friends near where we had found them.

The wounded men were brought under my shelter in the middle of the canoe, and I aided Tom in binding up their wounds as we best could. Whilst we were engaged in this task we heard behind us the splashing of paddles and the voices of men, and it soon became evident that we were pursued.

Our men, who up to this had paddled in silence, now

broke into a loud song, and redoubled their efforts to make the canoe travel. For the whole night we kept on paddling, the only rest being that one of the men was relieved from his paddle for a time, even the women taking their share in the arduous work.

The night at length passed away. When it became light we could see that we were pursued by two canoes, which were each about as large as the one we were in, and manned by the same number of men. On seeing us our pursuers gave a chorus of yells, and one man in each canoe coming to the bows commenced firing at us; but fortunately their bullets fell short.

Our people were now getting tired. It was evident to me that if we did not soon reach a place of safety, or manage to cripple our pursuers, we would soon fall into their hands, and from them we could certainly expect no mercy. Tom now signed to me to take my gun, and with him I went to the stern of our canoe. The bullets of our pursuers falling nearer and nearer, we at last commenced to return their fire.

I found firing from the canoe a very difficult thing, and as reloading my gun was a matter requiring considerable management, our fire was very slow and uncertain. Fortunately our pursuers laboured under the same disadvantages, and did us no damage. After we had been firing for half-an-hour or so, without any casualty on either side, I heard a bullet whiz close by my head, a thud as it struck some one behind me, and then a splash.

The man at the after-paddle had been struck in the head and had fallen overboard. He never rose again. The lurch the canoe gave as he went overboard, and a momentary cessation of paddling on the part of the men, let our enemies draw up a bit, and they were now no more than fifty yards astern of us. I felt more determined than ever, and taking a very careful aim I fired, and the man who was firing from the nearer of the two canoes threw his arms in the air and fell backwards. This caused some confusion on board his canoe, and Tom, at the same moment, being fortunate enough to hit one of the paddlers in the other, we regained the distance that we had lost. Soon after two of our paddles were broken by a bullet, and another of our men was wounded. I thought that in another few minutes they must be alongside, and we should be involved in a hand-to-hand conflict.

I said so to Tom; but in response he showed all his teeth, and said, “Bery good, bery good.” At the same instant I heard the beat of a big drum, and looking round saw that we were just coming in sight of a large village, where people were launching canoes. Tom, as he saw me look, said, “Dem be good;” and our pursuers, who evidently had followed us further than they intended, turned round and began to paddle downstream.

In a few minutes half-a-dozen big canoes from the village were in full chase after them, in which we joined. In less than half-an-hour our whilom pursuers were made prisoners, and we were all landed in the village, where Tom was evidently made much of, and where his white man was regarded with much curiosity—no specimen of that strange race having ever before been seen so far up the Ogowai.

The prisoners we had released had come from this place, and all was rejoicing and festivity in honour of their release from captivity, the best of everything that the village afforded being placed at our disposal. Our wounded men were now handed over to the native doctors, and Tom, after seeing them attended to, came and informed me they soon would be “bery good.”

I was very anxious to know what was to become of me, and where I was going. All this time I had been coming away from the coast, and it seemed to me that though I might be getting safer from pursuit by Camacho, Pentlea, and Okopa, the chances of my ever rejoining the Petrel were becoming smaller and smaller.

All my questions only elicited from Tom the answer of “Bery good,” and I soon found that he, with all the other men of our party, were so much under the influence of the palm wine, gin, and other liquors which were provided in honour of our victory, that I could hope to get no sensible answer until the feasting and festivity were over.

CHAPTER XII.

IN THE INTERIOR.

After a time the chief, who Tom told me was called Karema, ordered his head-men, wives, drummers, and musicians to assemble. They formed in a semicircle round him, whilst the rest of the people drew away a little distance and left them alone in an open space. For some twenty minutes drums and horns had their own way; and though I could not discern much harmony in their notes, they seemed to give intense satisfaction to the hearers as well as to the performers.

All at once Karema held up his hand and the music ceased, and springing to his feet, he began an impassioned harangue, striding up and down and gesticulating wildly. Every now and again, as he paused, the drummers smote their drums fiercely, and the men with horns blew a long shrill note, while all the people cried out, “Eh-a-a-a-a-n! Karema! Eh-a-a-a-a-n!” in token of their approval of what he was saying.

At last Karema ceased, and sank back on his seat exhausted with his vehemence. Tom and the men who had formed the crew of our canoe then rushed forward, brandishing their arms, and went through a lively representation of a fight, in which they were soon joined by the warriors of Karema’s village. The antics of the men, their yells, and the noise of drums and horns, all combined to form a regular pandemonium; and I was astonished to see that my friend Tom, whom I had come to consider as partly civilized, was as wild in his antics and gestures as any of the other performers.

This went on for over an hour, and two or three times I was seized upon by the excited dancers and hurried round with them or carried on their shoulders, while Tom shouted out, “English bery good.” I was glad when this was over, and the men dropped off one by one as they became too tired to caper about any more.

Tom having apparently danced all his drink and excitement out of him, took me to Karema’s hut to have a conference together as to getting me out of the country.

Karema’s hut stood in the centre of a separate enclosure, around the sides of which were rows of smaller huts belonging to his wives. It was well built, with clay walls and a thatched roof. Inside I found some chairs of the familiar Windsor pattern, evidently regarded as most precious, on one of which I, as a white man and visitor, was given a seat. Karema himself lounged on a cane bed-place in one corner, smoking a water-pipe made out of a cocoa-nut shell with a piece of reed, and Tom squatted down on an elaborately carved native stool.

Tom spoke long and, I could see, earnestly. Karema, lying back on his couch, puffed steadily at his pipe, sending forth huge volumes of smoke, and occasionally, as Tom made an extra point, giving a grunt of approval or disapproval.

At length, when Tom had finished, Karema made an equally long-winded reply, which from Tom I made out to be to the following effect:—Karema was very proud that a white man had come to see him, as it would give him importance in the eyes of neighbouring chiefs; but he would not permit me to go beyond his country, for then his rivals would be able to boast they had also seen a white man, and he steadily refused to fall in with the proposals of Tom that I should be sent across the country to a big river where white men were said to trade, and which I supposed, as we were on the Ogowai, would be either the Gaboon or the Congo.

I asked him to again urge Karema to let me go on; for I did not want to stop for ever in Africa, but wished to get back to my own country and my own people.

Tom again spoke to Karema; but he refused to let me go beyond his country. He said that as long as I chose to stop with him he would look after me as if I were his own son, and that surely some day an English ship would visit the river, and then I would be able to get away without encountering the dangers inseparable from a long land journey in Africa.

On reflection this seemed to me the best thing that could be done. Perhaps my father might meet with a man-of-war and get her to come and punish Okopa for his attack on the Petrel, when I would at once be able to get away.

Tom said that was a good idea, and that though I could not live in his father’s village without danger of troubles with the Spaniards and Okopa, I should be perfectly safe with Karema, and I had better therefore accept his offer.

When Karema heard that we agreed to his proposals he gave a grunt of delight and approval, and said that next day he would, before all his people, exchange blood with me, and I would be accepted as one of his tribe. He also would give me a hut to live in, and wives and slaves to cultivate ground for me and to cook for me.

This question having been settled, Karema got up from his bed and led Tom and me to a small enclosure in the village just finished, in which was a new hut which had never been used, and the materials for building others. This he said should now be mine; and then, saying he would send food and drink to the hut in which I had passed the previous night, he retired to his own quarters.

When Tom and I were again alone in our hut all was quiet, the whole population of the village apparently being engaged in sleeping off the effects of the day’s rejoicings. Tom said, “All bery good, massa. One time English ship come you catch; now s’pose lib here very good.”

“That’s all right, Tom; but suppose no English ship comes, how then?”

“No good s’pose bad ting,” said Tom, who was rapidly remembering his English, and who now told me that he had been for a short time on board an English ship as a pledge for goods with which his father had been trusted, and had there learned to speak it “all proper.”

With much difficulty he also explained to me what the ceremony of exchanging blood would be; and when I said I did not want a black wife, he said, “How be dat? S’pose no wife lib, who make chop? who make fire, bring water—who do all ting for hut?”

“Yes, Tom; but a woman can do all that without being my wife. Your father has given me plenty of cloth and beads; cannot I give some to people to do those things for me?”

“No, massa; s’pose pay ebery time, bead soon go. Best take wife.”

“But, Tom, if I go back to my own country how shall I do with a black wife, and what can she do in England?”

“Oh, s’pose you no care take wife own country, gib her me. Me like plenty wife; dat be good—bery good have plenty wife.”

I tried in vain to explain to him my ideas on the subject of marriage; but at last he said, “S’pose you no want wife, me tell Karema dat be your fetich. No have wife, but plenty slave must have.”

I tried to make him understand also that Englishmen would have nothing to do with slaves; but that he resolutely refused to agree to. At last, as the lesser of two evils, I consented to become nominally the owner of such slaves as Karema might assign to me; and I made up my mind to see that when I left the country they were made actually free and well rewarded for any services which they might render me.

By the time this long discussion was over it was time for sleep. Tom leaving me to myself, I said my prayers, and throwing myself on a bed which was covered with skins and mats, I was soon dreaming of all sorts of things. Sometimes I thought myself again on board the Petrel; and sometimes I was in the clutches of Pentlea and Camacho.

I slept long and soundly. When Tom came in and woke me the sun was already high in the heavens, and everything was prepared for the ceremony of my exchanging blood with Karema.

I washed my face and hands in a calabash of water which Tom brought me; and coming out of the hut with him I found all the people of the village squatted round a clear space, in which a couple of stools had been placed for Karema and me to sit on during the ceremony. As soon as the villagers saw me they sent up a great shout, and made way for Tom to lead me to the stool, where I sat down, he standing by me to act as my sponsor.

As soon as we were in our places Karema came out of the enclosure where his huts were, accompanied by his wives and drummers. All his followers remained outside the circle, except one man, who was to promise for him; and a fetichman, who was to perform the operation of exchanging our blood. The body, face, and arms of the fetichman were painted white, and he wore round his neck and waist great quantities of birds’ skulls, antelopes’ horns, bones, shells, and other things in which great virtue was supposed to reside.

Karema sat down on the other stool facing me, and took hold of my right hand with his left and my left with his right. Tom and Karema’s sponsor stood each behind the one he was to answer for; and the fetichman, after drawing a circle round us, stood with his arms upraised and chanted a long monotonous song, to which the people, who were sitting round, occasionally joined in chorus.

When he had finished this, a woman came into the circle and placed a large covered gourd on the ground close by us, and then withdrew. The fetichman opened the gourd, and out of it he took two large buffalo horns and some grease, leaves, and earth, which he mixed up into a sort of paste; then putting some into each horn, he stuck them in the ground between Karema’s legs and mine.

He now took a goat’s horn, into which he put a lot of small pebbles, beads, and some carved bits of wood; then shaking them up together, he let them fall on the ground and eagerly scrutinized the forms in which they fell. This he repeated several times; and as Tom kept on saying, “Bery good, bery good,” I supposed that the auguries he drew from them were favourable to me.

He next took out of the gourd a square black gin bottle full of oil, which he poured over the heads of Karema and myself. Karema seemed to enjoy this; but as the oil was rancid and highly-flavoured, I cannot say that I found this anointing very agreeable.

Next he produced a small piece of a broken plate and a little packet of gunpowder, which he mixed into a paste with some oil; then turning back my shirt and laying bare my breast, with a very sharp knife he made a smart cut over my left breast and squeezed out a few drops of blood, which Tom caught in a leaf given him for the purpose.

Karema had to suffer a similar wound, and his sponsor caught his blood on another leaf. When this had been done, the fetichman made a long speech, which was repeated by Tom and his colleague. Tom afterwards translated it to me, and it proved to be a most elaborate series of curses on Karema and myself, and all our relations and friends, if we ever did any harm to each other, or if we, being in need or danger, did not at once hasten to each other’s assistance. Indeed we should have been as well cursed as the jackdaw of Rheims if in any way we either of us failed of our mutual duties; and as I am now well and hearty, I must have always fulfilled my share.

This having been completed, the two sponsors exchanged the leaves with the blood in them, and the fetichman putting his forefinger in the leaf containing my blood, rubbed it into the cut on Karema’s chest, and then rubbed his blood into mine. He next took some of the gunpowder and oil and rubbed it over the wounds. He then put the leaves and the remainder of the blood and gunpowder into the two buffalo horns.

As soon as this was done the people gave a mighty yell, and all who were possessed of drums, horns, bells, or other instruments of noise, made the most of their powers. The din lasted for about five minutes, and on a sign from the fetichman it ceased as suddenly as it had commenced.

I supposed that now the ceremony was over, but soon found I was mistaken, as two old and wrinkled women came into the circle, one of whom carried a cocoa-nut shell and a gourd of water, and the other a square bottle of gin. From the large gourd, which seemed inexhaustible, the fetichman now drew out some roots and pieces of bark, which he cut into several small pieces and put into the cocoa-nut. Then pouring a little water on them, he stirred it up vigorously with an antelope’s horn, and filling it up with gin handed it to Karema, who took a large draught and gave it back to the fetichman. He placed it in my hands and signed that I should follow Karema’s example. I took a moderate sip, and found that it tasted very bitter, the gin burning my throat and almost taking away my breath.

The shell was now passed to Tom and Karema’s sponsor, who each took a drink, and the fetichman then finished off the remainder. The two buffalo horns were now taken up from the ground and filled up with mud. The one that had been between my legs was given to Karema, and his was given to me. We were led to the entrance to our enclosures, where the horns were hung up in order to keep all evil spirits and wicked men from injuring us; then returning once more to the middle of the village, the fetichman proclaimed in a stentorian voice that Franki was brother of Karema. This he did four times, first facing north, then south, then east, and lastly west.

Each time as he called out the people shouted, “Eh-a-a-a-n, Eh-a-a-a-n! Franki Karema, Karema Franki!” and drums, bells, horns, and whistles were brought into requisition to increase the noise.

The ceremony was now finished, and I was one of the Adiana, as Karema’s people were called. From all in the village came presents, mostly small, such as a leaf of tobacco or an egg, a fowl or something of that sort; but from Karema came three women and three men carrying earthen pots, mats, hoes, stools, calabashes, and driving half-a-dozen goats. These people, as well as what they brought me, Tom told me, were now my property, and would have to cultivate my farm for me and do all the work that I required. One of the women, who was young and good-looking, he advised me to take for a wife.

I again told him that it was impossible, and at last he ceased to urge me to marry, saying, “Bery good. Me no sabey white man palaver; black man s’pose he get slave what be good he marry him one time.”

My new hut soon began to look habitable, and by Karema’s orders all the people of the village brought in poles and thatch and strips of bark to tie the frames together. Before evening huts were nearly finished to shelter my servants—for I would not call them slaves—and my live stock.

Next day these were finished, and with Karema I went out of the village and chose a piece of ground which was to be cultivated for me, and for which he gave me seed. Tom stopped this day with me, and advised me to make presents, out of the goods his father had supplied me with, to all the principal men among my new countrymen, not forgetting the fetichman who had performed the ceremony of exchanging blood between Karema and me. Next day he left to go back to Jack Sprat’s village, and after bidding me good-bye most warmly, he got into the canoe which had brought us up and paddled away down-stream.

As he left, a sense of great loneliness came over me, for though I and Karema were brothers, I could not exchange a word with him, and how long it would be necessary for me to remain where I was I did not know. However, I consoled myself by thinking that I might have been in a much worse plight, and set myself to make the best of my present situation.

I soon found that I was able to pick up sufficient of the native language to make myself understood. I found employment to fill up my days in looking after my servants and farm, in hunting and shooting, and in learning the use of spear and bow, and how to manage a canoe, in all of which I became very expert. I found that the natives, after their first superstitious reverence for a white man had worn off, began to treat me as if I was not so good as themselves. When, however, they saw that I could surpass them at their own callings; that I was always to the front in hunting the wild cattle which abounded in the neighbouring woods, or in the more exciting and dangerous pastime of spearing hippopotami from our canoes; that no man’s spear was hurled further or with truer aim; and that my arrows pierced deeper in the bodies of our prey than those of any of my companions—they looked upon me as one of their leading warriors, and openly spoke of me as the successor of Karema.

Among the whole tribe I could count only a few enemies, and these were a younger brother of Karema, named Dala—who before I came had expected to be his heir—and his special friends. I often tried to explain to Dala that it was impossible I should become the chief of the Adiana, as my intention was, as soon as ever I heard of the arrival of an English ship in the river, to make my way on board and return to my own country. Though Dala was forced to own the truth of what I said, he was so blinded with jealousy that he continued to try to do me harm. My plantations were often damaged, my fowls stolen, and my goats killed.

Karema loyally fulfilled all the obligations of brotherhood to me, and always made good my losses. The only actual annoyance they caused me was in proving that, notwithstanding anything I might do, Dala was my persistent enemy.

From time to time Tom came to visit me, but, alas! he never brought me news of the appearance of an English ship. Instead, he imparted the unpleasant intelligence that Pentlea and Camacho had made a large barracoon on the creek where the two schooners had been hidden, and that Okopa, having thrown in his lot with them, was daily becoming possessed of more muskets and ammunition. Okopa was now more hostile than ever to all the people on Hararu’s side of the river, having even dared to destroy one or two small villages and carry off their inhabitants, besides constantly kidnapping fishermen and women.

Seed-time and harvest, dry and rainy seasons, passed by. I had been nearly two years with the Adiana, and was thinking I must at all risks try to get away, and I had sought to get Karema to allow me to try to make my way towards the big river of which he had told me when I first came to his country, when a circumstance occurred which had an important influence on my future.

CHAPTER XIII.

CAPTURED BY CANNIBALS.

“No, Franki,” said Fumo; “there are seven here who wish to go far. The others who want to go back are women and not men.”

I soon made inquiries among our party, and found that some of the men said Karema had always said to return in eight days from the time of leaving the village, and not to go beyond a certain distance; and that now, if we were to obey his orders, we ought to set about returning at once.

I was looked upon by all the men as leader of the party, and I knew that I should have done right in complying with the wishes of Karema, from whom I had received nothing but kindness. Fumo’s words, however, excited in me a desire to see more of the country, and a hope that I might find some way of escape. I had no intention of being so base as to go away without telling Karema; but I thought the more I became acquainted with the country, the better I should be able to make my way to where I could find some traces of Englishmen.

After a long argument we decided that the men who wished to return to the village should do so, and Fumo and the other seven men who were willing to follow me should send word that we were going to remain out for another week, in the hope of finding game more plentiful. We were under the guidance of one of our number to make our way to a place where not only buffaloes and antelopes were known to be plentiful, but where elephants often came.

I knew, if we could get any ivory, Karema would willingly overlook our remaining away beyond the time he had fixed; but it was because I could not be sure of his consenting to my going so far from the village that I determined on going to this place without returning to the village and telling him of my intention.

Fumo and I with our companions exchanged broken spears for sound ones with those who were returning, and took all the spare bowstrings and arrows we could muster. I was the only one of our number who possessed a gun, and my stock of ammunition was so scanty that I hoarded it with most jealous care, and had for some time made up my mind never to fire a shot except in a case of urgent necessity.

As soon as our companions had left us to go back to the village, we started off under the leadership of a man called Wanda, who said he knew the road. For the whole of that day we forced our way through almost impenetrable jungle, and camped for the night on the bank of a small stream.

Next morning we came into rather more open forest, and we were able to spread out in search of sport. Soon after we had started, I heard a great crashing among some undergrowth near us, and immediately afterwards a large antelope dashed out across our path with a leopard clinging to his shoulders. As quick as thought I brought my gun to my shoulder and fired, and the bullet struck the leopard full in the flank.

At once it quitted its prey and commenced to come towards us. My gun being unloaded, I threw it on the ground, and essayed to pick up my spear, which I had dropped when in the act of firing; but I could not find it. Hearing Fumo, whose attention had been attracted by my firing, calling out, “Run, Franki, run!” I took to my heels, closely followed by the leopard.

I was running towards two of my companions, from whom I might get a spear, and with whose assistance I might have a chance of turning the tables on the leopard, when I heard a roar and a yell behind me. Looking round I saw that the faithful Fumo had attacked the leopard with a spear, but from some cause or other his blow had not been successful; and the infuriated beast, turning on him as he attempted to get away, had seized him by the back with claws and teeth.

I seized on a spear from the man nearest to me, and hurled it at the leopard and transfixed it through the loins. It at once let go its hold of Fumo, who fell forward on his face bleeding from his wounds, and turned towards its new assailants. We met its onslaught resolutely. Finding my own and Fumo’s spears, we all three kept stabbing at the beast as it attempted to tear us down to the ground. Fortunately the wounds which I had inflicted with bullet and spear had crippled the leopard’s movements, or we should have fared badly in the encounter. Except the one or two comparatively slight wounds which I received on my fore arms while driving my spear into its breast, we did not have any damage done to us. The rest of our companions, hearing our shouts, came rushing up, and with their assistance we soon despatched our antagonist.

As soon as we were done with the leopard, I turned my attention to poor Fumo, who was in a terrible condition, the brute having torn the flesh off his back so that the bones were visible. I scarce knew what I should do to dress his wounds, and the only thing possible was to cut great slices of flesh from the leopard and tie them over the wounds; then, as he could not bear to be moved, we set to work and built a small hut over him. As my arms prevented my being of any use, I sat by his side to attend to his wants. The rest made a camp, cut firewood, and went to hunt for game to supply our larder.

Poor Fumo! I do not know what might have been done for him if we had had any knowledge of surgery or any proper appliances for dressing his wounds. For days he lingered on, not getting either any better or apparently any worse, and I thought it best to send word to Karema of what had occurred, and how we might be still delayed by Fumo being unable to travel. When I mentioned this, I was astonished to find that some of our companions wished to abandon Fumo to his fate, as it was impossible for him to recover, and to make our way back with all speed, for evidently there was some fetich against us.

I was indignant at this proposal, and said all could go if they chose, but when I returned I would tell Karema that they were not men but women, and they