Volume I Part 6 (1/2)
At that moment the rain-clouds burst, and in five minutes after the first spatter all were wet to the skin. Selim and I stood close together, trying to light a match, when a sheet of white fire seemed to be let down from the black sky, pa.s.sing between us with a simultaneous thundering crash and rattle, and a sulphurous smell, as if a battery had been discharged. I saw my factotum struck down whilst in the act of staggering and falling myself; we lay still for a few moments, when a mutual inquiry showed that both were alive, only a little shaken and stunned; the sensation was simply the shock of an electrical machine and the discharge of a Woolwich infant --greatly exaggerated.
We then gave up the partie; it was useless to contend against Jupiter Tonans as well as Pluvialis. I opened my bedding, drank a ”stiffener” of raw cognac, wrapped myself well, and at once fell asleep in the heavy rain, whilst the crew gathered under the sail. The gentlemen who stay at home at ease may think damp sheets dangerous, but Malvern had long ago taught me the perfect safety of the wettest bivouac, provided that the body remains warm. At Fernando Po, as at Zanzibar, a drunken sailor after a night in the gutter will catch fever, and will probably die. But he has exposed himself to the inevitable chill after midnight, he is unacclimatized, and both places are exceptionally deadly--to say nothing of the liquor. The experienced African traveller awaking with a chilly skin, swallows a tumbler of cold water, and rolls himself in a blanket till he perspires; there is only one alternative.
Next day I arose at 4 A.M., somewhat cramped and stiff, but with nothing that would not yield to half a handful of quinine, a cup of coffee well ”laced,” a pipe, and a roaring fire. Some country people presently came up, and rated us for sleeping in the bush; we retorted in kind, telling them that they should have been more wide-awake. Whilst the boat was being baled, I walked to the sh.o.r.e, and prospected our day's work. The forest showed a novel feature: flocks of cottony mist-clouds curling amongst the trees, like opals scattered upon a bed of emeralds; a purple haze banked up the western horizon, whilst milk-white foam drew a delicate line between the deep yellow sand and the still deeper blue. Far to the south lay the Serna or prairillon of Sanga-Tanga, a rolling patch, ”or, on a field vert,” backed by the usual dark belt of the same, and fronted by straggling dots that emerged from the wave--they proved to be a thin line of trees along sh.o.r.e. We were lying inside the mouth of the ”Habanyaa” alias the Shark River, which flows along the south of a high gra.s.sy dome, streaked here and there with rows of palms, and broken into the semblance of a verdure-clad crater. According to the people the Nkonje (Squalus) here is not a dangerous ”sea-tiger” unless a man wear red or carry copper bracelets; it is caught with hooks and eaten as by the Chinese and the Suri Arabs. The streamlet is a favourite haunt of the hippopotamus; a small one dived when it sighted us, and did not reappear. It was the only specimen that I saw during my three years upon the West African Coast,--a great contrast to that of Zanzibar, where half a dozen may be shot in a single day. The musket has made all the difference.
At 6 A.M. on Friday, March 28, the boat was safely carried over the bar of Shark River, and we found ourselves once more hugging the sh.o.r.e southwards. The day was exceptional for West Africa, and much like damp weather at the end of an English May; the grey air at times indulged us with a slow drizzle. After two hours we pa.s.sed another maritime village, where the farce of yesterday evening was re-acted, but this time with more vigour. Ignorant of my morning's private work, Hotaloya swore that it was Sanga- Tanga. I complimented him upon his proficiency in lying, and poor Langob.u.mo, almost in tears, confessed that he had pointed out to me the real place. Whereupon Hotaloya began pathetically to reproach him for being thus prodigal of the truth. Nurya, the ”head trader,” coming down to the beach, with dignity and in force told me in English that I must land, and was chaffed accordingly. He then bl.u.s.tered and threatened instant death, at which it was easy to laugh. About 10 A.M. we lay off our destination, some ten miles south of Dyanye Point. It was a beautiful site, the end of a gra.s.sy dune, declining gradually toward the tree-fringed sea; the yellow slopes, cut by avenues and broken by dwarf table-lands, were long afterwards recalled to my memory, when sighting the fair but desolate scenery south of Paraguayan Asuncion. These downs appear to be a sea-coast raised by secular upheaval, and much older than the flat tracts which encroach upon the Atlantic. We could now understand the position of the town which figures so largely in the squadron-annals of the equatorial sh.o.r.e; it was set upon a hillock, whence the eye could catch the approaching sail of the slaver, and where the flag could be raised conspicuously in token of no cruiser being near.
But the glory had departed from Sanga-Tanga (Peel-White? Strip- White?); not a trace of the town remained, the barrac.o.o.ns had disappeared, and all was innocent as upon the day of its creation. A deep silence reigned where the song of joy and the shrieks of torture had so often been answered by the voice of the forest, and Eternal Nature had ceased to be disturbed by the follies and crimes of man.
Sanga-Tanga was burned down, after the fas.h.i.+on of these people, when Mbango, whom Europeans called ”Pa.s.s-all,” King of the Urungu, who extend up the right bank of the Ogobe, pa.s.sed away from the sublunary world. King Pa.s.s-all had completed his education in Portugal: a negro never attains his highest potential point of villany without a tour through Europe; and thus he rose to be the greatest slave-dealer in this slave- dealing sc.r.a.p of the coast. In early life he protected the Spanish pirates who fled to Cape Lopez, after plundering the American brig ”Mexico:” they were at last forcibly captured by Captain (the late Admiral) Trotter, R.N.; pa.s.sed over to the United States, and finally hanged at Boston, during the Presidency of General Jackson. Towards the end of his life he became paralytic, like King Pepple of Bonny, and dangerous to the whites as well as to the blacks under his rule. The people, however, still speak highly of him, generosity being a gift which everywhere covers a mult.i.tude of sins. He was succeeded by one of his sons, who is favourably mentioned, but who soon followed him to the grave. I saw another, a boy, apparently a slave to a Mpongwe on the coast, and the rest of the family is scattered far and wide. Since Pa.s.s-all's death the ”peddlers in human flesh and blood” have gone farther south: men spoke of a great depot at the Mpembe village on the banks of the Nazareth River, where a certain Ndabuliya is aided and abetted by two Utangani. Now that ”'long-sea” exportation has been completely suppressed, their only markets must be the two opposite islands.
South of Sanga-Tanga, lay a thin line of deeper blue, Fetish Point, the eastern projection of Cape Lopez Bay. From Mbango's Town it is easy to see the western headland, Cape Lopez, whose low outliers of sand and trees gain slowly but surely upon the waters of the Atlantic. I deferred a visit until a more favourable time, and--that time never came.
Cape Lopez is said to have considerable advantages for developing trade, but the climate appears adverse. A large Catholic mission, described by Barbot, was established here by the Portuguese: as in the Congo, nothing physical of it remains. But Mr. Wilson is rather hard when he a.s.serts that all traces have disappeared-- they survive in superior 'cuteness of the native.
Little need be said about our return, which was merrier than the outward bound trip. Wind, tide, and current were now in our favour, and we followed the chords, not the arcs, of the several bays. At 9.30 P.M. we gave a wide berth to the rollers off Point Nyonye and two hours afterwards we groped through the outer darkness into Bwamange, where the good Azizeh and Asunye, who came to receive us, shouted with joy. On the next day another ”gorilla palaver,” when a large male was reported to have been shot without a shadow of truth, detained me: it was the last straw which broke the patient camel's back. After ”das.h.i.+ng” to old King Langobomo one cloth, one bottle of absinthe, two heads of tobacco, and a clay pipe, we set out betimes for the fifteen miles' walk to Mbata. Various obstacles delayed us on the way, and the shades of evening began to close in rapidly; night already reigned over the forest. Progress under such circ.u.mstances requires the greatest care; as in the streets of Damascus, one must ever look fixedly at the ground, under penalty of a shaking stumble over cross-bars of roots, or fallen branches hidden by gra.s.s and mud. And the worst of these wet walks is that, sooner or later, they bring on swollen feet, which the least scratch causes to ulcerate, and which may lame the traveller for weeks. They are often caused by walking and sitting in wet shoes and stockings; it is so troublesome to pull off and pull on again after wading and fording, repeated during every few hundred yards, that most men tramp through the brooks and suffer in consequence. Constant care of the feet is necessary in African travel, and the ease with which they are hurt--sluggish circulation, poor food and insufficient stimulants being the causes--is one of its deplaisirs. The people wash and anoint these wounds with palm oil: a hot bath, with pepper-water, if there be no rum, gives more relief, and caustic must sometimes be used.
We reached Mbata at 6.15 P.M., and all agreed that two hours of such forest-walking do more damage than five days along the sands.
Since my departure from the coast, French naval officers, travellers and traders, have not been idle. The Marquis de Compiegne, who returned to France in 1874, suffering from ulcerated legs, had travelled up the Ferno Vaz, and its tributary the highly irregular Ogobai, Ogowa, or Ogowe (Ogobe); yet, curious to remark, all his discoveries arc omitted by Herr Kiepert. His furthest point was 213 kilometres east of ”San Quita” (Sankwita), a village sixty-one kilometres north (??) of Pointe Fetiche, near Cape Lopez; but wars and receding waters prevented his reaching the confluence where the Ivindo fork enters the north bank of the Ogobe. He made observations amongst the ”Kamma” tribe, which differs from the Bakele and other neighbours. M. Guirold, commanding a cruiser, was also sent to the estuary of the Rembo or Ferno Vaz, into which the Mpungule (N'poulounay of M. du Chaillu?), ascended only by M. Aymes, discharges. The explorers found many shoals and s.h.i.+fting sands before entering the estuary; in the evening they stopped at the Ogobe confluence, where a French seaman was employed in custom- house duties. M. de Compiegne, after attending many palavers, was duly upset when returning to the s.h.i.+p.
On the Ferno Vaz there are now (1873) five factories, each named after some French town: Paris Factory, however, had fallen to ruins, the traders having migrated 150 miles higher up the Kamma River. Here a certain drunken kinglet, ”Rampano,” breaks everything he finds in the house, and pays damages when he returns to his senses. On March 31st there was a violent quarrel between the women of two settlements, and the ”reguli” embarked with all their host, to fight it out; Rampano was the victor, and after the usual palaver the vanquished was compelled to pay a heavy fine. M. du Chaillu's descriptions of the country, a park land dotted with tree-mottes, are confirmed; but the sport, excepting hippopotamus, was poor, and the negroes were found eating a white-faced monkey--mere cannibalism amongst the coast tribes. The fauna and flora of the Ogobe are those of the Gaboon, and the variety of beautiful parrots is especially remarked.
On January 9, 1874, M. de Compiegne pa.s.sed from the Ferno Vaz through the Obango Ca.n.a.l into the Ogobe, which, bordered by Fetish rocks, flows through vast forests; his object was to study the manners and customs of the Kammas, a more important tribe than is generally supposed, far outnumbering the Urungus of the coast. Their country is large and contains many factories, the traders securing allies by marrying native women. The princ.i.p.al items of import are dry goods, guns, common spirits, and American tobacco; profits must be large, as what costs in France one franc eighty cents, here sells for ten francs' worth of goods. The exports are almost entirely comprised in gum mastic and ivory. At the factory of Mr. Watkins the traveller secured certain figures which he calls ”idols”--they are by no means fitted for the drawing-room table. He also noticed the ”peace of the household,”
a strip of manatus nerve, at times used by paterfamilias.
Mr. R. B. N. Walker, who made sundry excursions between 1866 and 1873, also wrote from Elobe that he had left the French explorers, MM. de Compiegne and Marche, on the Okanda River which M. du Chaillu believes to be the northern fork of the Ogobe.
Their letters (Feb. 12, 1874) were dated from Osse in the Okanda country, where they had made arrangements with the kinglet for a journey to the ”Otjebos,” probably the Moshebo or Moshobo cannibals of the ”Gorilla Book.” The rocks, shoals, and stony bottom of the Ogobe reduced their rate of progress to three miles a day, and, after four wearisome stages, they reached a village of Bakele. Here they saw the slave-driving tribe ”Okota,” whose appearance did not prepossess them and whose chief attempted unsuccessfully to stop the expedition. They did not leave before collecting specimens of the language.
Further eastward, going towards the country of the Yalimbongo tribe, they found the Okanda River, which they make the southern fork, the Okono being the northern, descending from the mountains; here food was plentiful compared with Okota-land. The active volcano reported by Mr. R. B. N. Walker, 1873, was found to bear a lake upon the summit--which, in plutonic formations, would suggest an extinct crater. East of the Yalimbongo they came upon the Apingis, whom M. du Chaillu, after two visits, also placed upon the southern fork of the Ogobe. The tribe is described as small in stature, of mild habits, and fond of commerce; hence their plantations on the north or right bank of the river are plundered with impunity by the truculent ”Os.h.i.+eba”
(Moshebo or Moshobo?). Further east the river, after being obstructed by rapids, broadens to a mile and becomes navigable-- they were probably above the ”Ghats.” It is supposed to arise south in a lakelet called Tem or N'dua. A Bakele village was seen near Ochunga, a large riverine island; and thence they pa.s.sed into the country of the mountaineer Okandas. They are described as fine men, but terrible sorcerers; their plantations of banana and maize are often plundered by the ”Os.h.i.+eba,” the latter being now recognized as a kindred tribe of the Pahouin (Fan).
Chapter VI.
Village Life in Pongo-land.
The next day was perforce a halt. Forteune and his wives did not appear till 9 A.M., when it was dead low water. I had lent Nimrod a double-barrelled gun during the march, and he was evidently anxious to found a claim upon the protracted usufruct. ”Dashes”
also had to be settled, and loads made up. The two women to whose unvarying kindness all my comfort had been owing, were made happy with satin-stripe, ca.s.sis, and the inevitable nicotiana. In an unguarded moment my soft heart was betrayed into giving a bottle of absinthe to the large old person who claimed to be Forteune's mamma. Expecting nothing, had nothing been offered she would not have complained; the present acted upon her violently and deleteriously; she was like the cabman who makes mauvais sang because he has asked and received only twice his fare; briefly, next morning she was too surly to bid us adieu.
When giving Forteune his ”dash,” I was curious to hear how he could explain the report about the dead gorilla shot the night before last: the truth of the old saying, ”a black man is never fast for an excuse,” was at once ill.u.s.trated; the beast had been badly wounded, but it had dragged itself off to die. And where was the blood? The rain had washed the blood away!
Nimrod seemed chagrined at the poor end of so much trouble, but there was something in his look and voice suggesting a suppressed thought--these people, like the English and the Somal, show their innermost secrets in their faces. At last, I asked him if he was now willing to try the Shekyani country. He answered flatly, ”No!” And why?
Some bushmen had bewitched him; he knew the fellow, and would quickly make ”bob come up his side:” already two whites had visited him with a view of shooting gorillas; both had failed; it was ”shame palaver!”
This might have been true, but it certainly was not the whole truth. I can hardly accept M. du Chaillu's explanation, that the Mpongwe, who attack the beasts with trade muskets and pebbles, will not venture into the anthropoid's haunts unless certain of their white employer's staunchness. What could that matter, when our Nimrod had an excellent weapon in his hand and a strong party to back him? Very likely Forteune was tired with walking, and five dollars per shot made the game not worth the candle. Again, perhaps the black diplomatist feared to overstock the market with Njinas, or to offend some regular customer for the sake of an ”interloper.” In these African lands they waste over a monkey's skin or a bottle of rum as much intrigue as is devoted to a contested election in England.
I then asked the guide if my staying longer would be of any use?
He answered with a simple negative. Whilst the Utangani remained the Mbunji (spell) would still work, but it would at once be broken by our departure, and he would prove it by sending down the first-fruits. This appeared to me to be mere Mpongwe ”blague,” but, curious to say, the sequel completely justified both a.s.sertions. He threw out a hint, however, about certain enemies and my ”medicine,” the a.r.s.enical soap; I need hardly say that it was refused.