Every step that he went the ground grew softer and more swampy, and
he at length determined to push on no farther in this direction, but
turning to his left to try and gain higher ground, and then to continue
on the line he had marked out for himself.
His progress was now very slow. The bush was thick and close, thorny
plants and innumerable creepers continually barred his way, and the
necessity for constantly looking up through the trees to catch a glimpse
of the sun, which was his only guide, added to his difficulty. At
length, when his watch told him it was eleven o'clock, he came to a
standstill, the sun being too high overhead to serve him as a reliable
guide. He had now been walking for nearly six hours, and he was utterly
worn out and exhausted, having had no food since his midday meal on
the previous day. He was devoured with thirst, having merely rinsed his
mouth in the black and poisonous water of the swamps he had crossed. His
sleepless night, too, had told on him. He was bathed in perspiration,
and for the last hour had scarcely been able to drag his feet along.
He now lay down at the foot of a great tree, and for three or four hours
slept heavily. When he awoke he pursued his journey, the sun serving
as a guide again. In two hours' time he had got upon higher ground. The
brushwood was less dense, and he again turned his face to the north, and
stepped forward with renewed hopes.
It was late in the afternoon when he came upon a native path. Here he
sat down to think. He did not remember having crossed such a path on
the day before. Probably it crossed the stream at some point above the
encampment. Therefore it would serve as a guide, and he might, too, come
upon some native village where he could procure food. By following it
far enough he must arrive somewhere. He sat for a quarter of an hour to
rest himself, and then proceeded along the path, whose direction seemed
to be the northwest.
For an hour he proceeded and then paused, hearing a sudden outcry ahead.
Scampering along the path came a number of great baboons, and Frank at
once stepped aside into the bush to avoid them, as these are formidable
creatures when disturbed. They were of a very large species, and several
of the females had little ones clinging around their necks. In the
distance Frank could hear the shouts of some natives, and supposed that
the monkeys had been plundering their plantations, and that they were
driving them away. The baboons passed without paying any attention to
him, but Frank observed that the last of the troop was carrying a little
one in one of its forearms.
Frank glanced at the baby monkey and saw that it had round its waist a
string of blue beads. As a string of beads is the only attire which a
negro child wears until it reaches the age of ten or eleven years old,
the truth at once flashed upon Frank that the baboons were carrying off
a native baby, which had probably been set down by its mother while she
worked in the plantation. Instantly he drew his pistol, leaped into the
road, and fired at the retreating ape. It gave a cry, dropped the baby
and turned to attack its aggressor.
Frank waited till it was within six feet, and then shot it through the
head. He sprang forward and seized the baby, but in a moment he was
attacked by the whole party of baboons, who, barking like dogs, and
uttering angry cries, rushed at him. Frank stood his ground, and
discharged the four remaining barrels of his revolver at the foremost
animals. Two of these dropped, but the others who were only wounded
sprang upon him. Frank struck out with the butt end of his pistol, but
in a minute he was overpowered.
One monkey seized him by the leg with his teeth, while another bit his
arm. Others struck and scratched at him, and he was at once thrown down.
He tried to defend his face with his arms, kicking and struggling to
the best of his power. With one hand he drew the long knife for skinning
animals, which he wore at his belt, and struck out fiercely, but a
baboon seized his wrist in its teeth, and Frank felt that all was over,
when suddenly his assailants left him, and the instant afterwards he was
lifted to his feet by some negroes.
He had, when attacked by the apes, thrown the baby into a clump of ferns
close by, in order to have the use of both his hands, and when he looked
round he found that a negress had already picked it up, and was crying
and fondling it. The negroes appeared intensely astonished at Frank's
color, and he judged by their exclamations of surprise that, not only
had they not seen a white man before, but that they had not heard of one
being in the neighborhood.
Frank had been too severely bitten and mauled by the baboons to be able
to walk, and the negroes, seeing this, raised him, and four of them
carried him to their village, which was but a quarter of a mile distant.
Here he was taken to the principal hut, and laid on a bed. His wounds
were dressed with poultices formed of bruised leaves of some plant, the
natives evincing the utmost astonishment as Frank removed his clothes to
enable these operations to be performed.
By pointing to his lips he indicated that he was hungry and thirsty.
Water was brought to him, and cakes made from pounded yams pressed and
baked. Having eaten and drank he closed his eyes and lay back, and the
natives, who had before been all noisily chattering together, now became
suddenly silent, and stealing away left the strange white visitor to
sleep.
When Frank woke he could see by the light that it was early morning. A
woman with a child in her lap, whom Frank recognized as the negress
who had picked up the baby, was sitting on a low stool by his side. On
seeing him open his eyes she came to the bed, took his hand and put it
to her lips, and then raised the baby triumphantly and turned it round
and round to show that it had escaped without damage. Then when Frank
pointed again to his lips she brought him a pineapple, roughly cut off
the skin, and sliced it. Frank ate the juicy fruit, and felt immensely
refreshed, for the West Coast pineapple is even more delicious than
that found in the West Indies. Then the woman removed the bandages and
applied fresh poultices to his wounds, talking in low soft tones, and,
as Frank had no doubt, expressing sorrow at their cause.
Frank now endeavored to explain to her that he had a white companion
in the woods, but the woman, not understanding, brought in two or three
other natives, who stood round the couch and endeavored to gather what
he wished to say.
Frank held up two fingers. Then he pointed to himself and shut down one
finger, keeping the other erect, and then pointed all round to signify
that he had a friend somewhere in the wood. A grin of comprehension
stole over the faces of the negroes, and Frank saw that he was
understood.
Then he again held up his two fingers, and taking the hands of the
negress raised all her fingers by the side of the white ones to signify
that there were many natives with them. Then he took aim, with an
imaginary gun, up at the roof of the hut, and said “Bang” very loud,
and a chorus of approving laughter from the negroes showed that he was
understood. Then one of them pointed towards the various points of the
compass, and looked interrogatively at Frank. The sun was streaming in
through the doorway, and he was thus able to judge of the direction
in which the camp must lie. He made a sweep with his hand towards the
northwest, signifying that they were somewhere in that direction.
That afternoon fever set in, and for the two next days Frank was
delirious. When he recovered consciousness he found Mr. Goodenough
sitting beside him. The latter would not suffer him to talk, but gave
him a strong dose of quinine and told him to lie quiet and go to sleep.
It was not till the next day that Frank learned what had happened in
his absence. The Houssa had not returned until long after nightfall. He
reported that Frank had told him to wait with the guns, and that he had
waited until it grew nearly dark. Then he had fired several times and
had walked about, firing his gun at intervals. Obtaining no responses he
had made his way back to the camp, where his arrival alone caused great
consternation.
It was impossible to do anything that night, and the next morning Mr.
Goodenough, accompanied by five of the Houssas, one only remaining to
keep guard over the camp, had gone to the place where Frank had last
been seen. Then they scattered in various directions, shouting and
firing their guns. The search had been continued all day without
success, and at nightfall, disheartened and worn out, they had returned
to the camp. The next day the search had been continued with an equal
want of success, and the fears that a leopard had attacked and killed
Frank became stronger and stronger. On the third day the whole of the
carriers were sent out with instructions to search the woods for native
paths, to follow these to villages, and to enlist the natives in the
search. One of these men had met one of the villagers on the search for
the party of the white man.
It was another ten days before Frank was sufficiently recovered from his
fever and wounds to march back to the camp. After a stay there of two
or three more days, to enable him completely to regain his strength, the
party started again on their journey.
In another three weeks they had descended the hills, and the Fans
announced their unwillingness to travel farther. Mr. Goodenough,
however, told them quietly that they had promised to go on until he
could obtain other carriers, and that if they deserted him he should pay
them nothing. They might now expect every day to meet people of another
tribe, and as soon as they should do so they would be allowed to depart.
Finding that he was firm, and having no desire to forfeit the wages they
had earned, the Fans agreed to go forward, although they were now in a
country entirely unknown to them, where the people would presumably be
hostile. They had, however, such faith in the arms carried by the white
men and Houssas, that they felt comparatively easy as to the result of
any attack which might be made upon them.
The very day after this little mutiny, smoke was seen curling up from
the woods. Mr. Goodenough deemed it inexpedient to show himself at once
with so large a number of men. He, therefore, sent forward Ostik with
two of the Fans, each of whom could speak several native dialects, to
announce his coming. They returned in an hour saying that the village
was a very large one, and that the news of the coming of two white men
had created great excitement. The people spoke of sending at once to
their king, whom they called Malembe, whose place, it seemed, was a
day's march off.
They now prepared to enter the village. Ostik went first carrying
himself with the dignity of a beadle at the head of a school procession.
Two of the Houssas walked next. Mr. Goodenough and Frank followed, their
guns being carried by two Fans behind them. Then came the long line of
bearers, two of the Houssas walking on each side as a baggage guard.
The villagers assembled in great numbers as they entered. The head man
conducted the whites to his hut. No women or children were to be seen,
and the expression of the men was that of fear rather than curiosity.
“They are afraid of the Fans,” Mr. Goodenough said. “The other tribes
all have a species of terror of these cannibals. We must reassure them
as soon as possible.”
A long palaver then took place with the chief, with whose language one
of the Fans was sufficiently acquainted to make himself understood.
It was rather a tedious business, as each speech had to be translated
twice, through Ostik and the Fan.
Mr. Goodenough informed the chief that the white men were friends of his
people, that they had come to see the country and give presents to the
chiefs, that they only wished to pass quietly through and to journey
unmolested, and that they would pay handsomely for food and all that
they required. They wished to obtain bearers for their baggage, and
these they would pay in cloth and brass rods, and as soon as they
procured carriers the Fans would return to their own country.
The chief answered expressing his gratification at seeing white men in
his village, saying that the king would, no doubt, carry out all their
wishes. One of the boxes was opened and he was presented with five yards
of bright colored calico, a gaudy silk handkerchief, and several strings
of bright beads. In return a large number of plantains were presented to
the white men. These were soon distributed among the Fans.
“Me no like dat nigger,” Ostik said. “Me think we hab trouble. You see
all women and children gone, dat bad. Wait till see what do when king
come.”
That day and the next passed quietly. The baggage had been piled in a
circle, as usual, in an open space outside the village; the tent being
pitched in the center, and Ostik advised Mr. Goodenough to sleep here
instead of in the village. The day after their arrival passed but
heavily. The natives showed but little curiosity as to the newcomers,
although these must have been far more strange to them than to
the people nearer the coast. Still no women or children made their
appearance. Towards evening a great drumming was heard in the distance.
“Here is his majesty at last,” Mr. Goodenough said, “we shall soon see
what is his disposition.”
In a short time the village was filled with a crowd of men all carrying
spears and bows and arrows. The drumming came nearer and nearer, and
then, carried in a chair on the shoulders of four strong negroes,
while ten others armed with guns marched beside him, the king made his
appearance.
Mr. Goodenough and Frank advanced to meet him. The king was a tall man
with a savage expression of countenance. Behind Mr. Goodenough, Ostik
and the Fan who spoke the language advanced. The king's chair was
lowered under the shade of a tree, and two attendants with palm leaf
fans at once began to fan his majesty.
“Tell the king,” Mr. Goodenough said, “that we are white men who have
come to see his country, and to pass through to the countries beyond. We
have many presents for him, and wish to buy food and to hire carriers in
place of those who have brought our things thus far.”
The king listened in silence.
“Why do the white men bring our enemies into our land?” he asked
angrily.
“We have come up from the coast,” Mr. Goodenough said; “and as we passed
through the Fan country we hired men there to carry our goods, just as
we wish to hire men here to go on into the country beyond. There were
none of the king's men in that country or we would have hired them.”
“Let me see the white men's presents,” the king said.
A box was opened, a bright scarlet shirt and a smoking cap of the same
color, worked with beads, a blue silk handkerchief and twenty yards of
bright calico, were taken out. To these were added twelve stair rods,
five pounds of powder, and two pounds of shot.
The king's eye sparkled greedily as he looked at the treasures.
“The white men must be very rich,” he said, pointing to the pile of
baggage.
“Most of the boxes are empty,” Mr. Goodenough said. “We have brought
them to take home the things of the country and show them to the white
men beyond the sea;” and to prove the truth of his words, Mr. Goodenough
had two of the empty cases opened, as also one already half filled with
bird skins, and another with trays of butterflies and beetles.
The king looked at them with surprise.
“And the others?” he asked, pointing to them.
“The others,” Mr. Goodenough said, “contain, some of them, food such
as white men are accustomed to eat in their own country, the others,
presents for the other kings and chiefs I shall meet when we have passed
on.
“The fellow is not satisfied,” he said to Ostik, “give him two of the
trade guns and a bottle of brandy.”
The king appeared mollified by these additional presents, and saying
that he would talk to the white men in the morning, he retired into the
village.
“I don't like the looks of things,” Mr. Goodenough said. “I fear that
the presents we have given the king will only stimulate his desire for
more. However, we shall see in the morning.”
When night fell, two of the Houssas were placed on guard. The Fans slept
inside the circle formed by the baggage. Several times in the night the
Houssas challenged bodies of men whom they heard approaching, but these
at once retired.
In the morning a messenger presented himself from the king, saying that
he required many more presents, that the things which had been given
were only fit for the chief of a village, and not for a great king.
Mr. Goodenough answered, that he had given the best he had, that the
presents were fit for a great king, and that he should give no more.
“If we are to have trouble,” he said to Frank, “it is far better to have
it at once while the Fans are with us, than when we are alone with no
one but the Houssas and the subjects of this man. The Fans will fight,
and we could hold this encampment against any number of savages.”
A quarter of an hour later the drums began beating furiously again. Loud
shouts and yells arose in the village, and the natives could be seen
moving excitedly about. Presently these all disappeared.
“Fight come now,” Ostik said.
“You'd better lower the tent at once, Ostik. It will only be in our
way.”
The tent was speedily lowered. The Fans grasped their spears and lay
down behind the circle of boxes and bales, and the six Houssas, the two
white men and Ostik, to whom a trade musket had been entrusted, took
their places at regular intervals round the circle, which was some
eight yards in diameter. Presently the beat of the drums again broke the
silence, and a shower of arrows, coming apparently from all points of
the compass, fell in and around the circle.
“Open fire steadily and quietly,” Mr. Goodenough said, “among the
bushes, but don't fire fast. We must tempt them to show themselves.”
A dropping fire commenced against the invisible foe, the fire being no
more frequent than it would have been had they been armed with muzzle
loading weapons. Presently musketry was heard on the enemy's side, the
king's bodyguard having opened fire. This was disastrous to them, for,
whereas the arrows had afforded but slight index as to the position of
those who shot them, the puffs of smoke from the muskets at once showed
the lurking places of those who used them, and Mr. Goodenough and Frank
replied so truly that in a very short time the musketry fire of the
enemy ceased altogether. The rain of arrows continued, the yells of the
natives rose louder and louder, and the drums beat more furiously.
“They will be out directly,” Mr. Goodenough said. “Fire as quickly as
you can when they show, but be sure and take good aim.”
Presently the sound of a war horn was heard, and from the wood all round
a crowd of dark figures dashed forward, uttering appalling yells. On
the instant the dropping fire of the defenders changed into an almost
continuous fusillade, as the Sniders of the Houssas, the breech loading
rifle of Mr. Goodenough, and the repeating Winchester of Frank were
brought into play at their full speed. Yells of astonishment broke
from the natives, and a minute later, leaving nearly a score of their
comrades on the ground, the rest dashed back into the forest.
There was silence for a time and then the war drums began again.
“Dey try again hard dis time, massa,” Ostik said. “King tell 'em he cut
off deir heads dey not win battle.”
This time the natives rushed forward with reckless bravery, in spite of
the execution made among them by the rapid fire of the defenders, and
rushed up to the circle of boxes. Then the Fans leaped to their feet,
and, spear in hand, dashed over the defenses and fell upon the enemy.
The attack was decisive. Uttering yells of terror the natives fled, and
two minutes later not a sound was to be heard in the forest.
“I tink dey run away for good dis time, sar,” Ostik said. “Dey hav'
'nuf of him. Dey fight very brave, much more brave than people down near
coast. Dere in great battle only three, four men killed. Here as many
men killed as we got altogether.”
This was so, nearly fifty of the natives having fallen between the trees
and the encampment. When an hour passed and all was still, it became
nearly certain that the enemy had retreated, and the Houssas, who are
splendid scouts, divested themselves of their clothing and crawled away
into the wood to reconnoiter. They returned in half an hour in high
glee, bearing the king's chair.
“Dey all run away, sar, ebery one, de king an' all, and leab his chair
behind. Dat great disgrace for him.”
A council was now held. The Fans were so delighted with the victory they
had won, that they expressed their readiness to remain with their white
companions as long as they chose, providing these would guarantee that
they should be sent home on the expiration of their service. This Mr.
Goodenough readily promised. After discussing the question with Frank,
he determined to abstain from pushing farther into the interior, but to
keep along northward, and then turning west with the sweep of the coast
to travel slowly along, keeping at about the same distance as at present
from the sea, and finally to come down either upon Cape Coast or Sierra
Leone.
This journey would occupy a considerable time. They would cross
countries but little known, and would have an ample opportunity for the
collection of specimens, which they might, from time to time, send down
by the various rivers they would cross, to the trading stations at their
mouths.
It was felt that after this encounter with the natives it would be
imprudent in the extreme to push further into the interior. They would
have continual battles to fight, large numbers of the natives would
be killed, and their collecting operations would be greatly interfered
with. As a lesson to the natives the village was burnt to the ground;
the presents, which the king in the hurry of his flight had left behind
him, being recovered.
A liberal allowance of tobacco was served out as a “dash” or present to
the Fans, and a bright silk handkerchief given to each. Then they
turned off at right angles to the line they had before been pursuing and
continued their journey.
Two days later Mr. Goodenough was prostrated by fever, and for several
days lay between life and death. When he became convalescent he
recovered strength very slowly. The heat was prodigious and the
mosquitos rendered sleep almost impossible at night. The country at this
place was low and swampy, and, weak as he was, Mr. Goodenough determined
to push forward. He was, however, unable to walk, and, for the first
time, a hammock was got out and mounted.
There is no more comfortable conveyance in the world than a hammock in
Africa. It is slung from a long bamboo pole, overhead a thick awning
keeps the sun from the hammock. Across the ends of the pole boards of
some three feet long are fastened. The natives wrap a piece of cloth
into the shape of a muffin and place it on their heads, and then take
their places, two at each end of the pole, with the ends of the board on
their heads. They can trot along at the rate of six miles an hour, for
great distances, often keeping up a monotonous song. Their action is
perfectly smooth and easy, and the traveler in the hammock, by shutting
his eyes, might imagine himself swinging in a cot on board ship on an
almost waveless sea.
After two days traveling they got on to higher ground, and here they
camped for some time, Mr. Goodenough slowly recovering strength, and
Frank busy in adding to their collections. In this he was in no slight
degree assisted by the Fans, who, having nothing else to do, had now
come to enter into the occupation of their employers. A good supply of
muslin had been brought, and nets having been made, the Fans captured
large quantities of butterflies, the great difficulty being in
convincing them that only a few of each species were required. They were
still more valuable in grubbing about in the decaying trunks of fallen
trees, under loose bark, and in broken ground, for beetles and larvae,
a task which suited them better than running about after butterflies,
which, moreover, they often spoilt irreparably by their rough handling.
Thus Frank was able to devote himself entirely to the pursuit of birds,
and although all the varieties more usually met with had been obtained,
the collection steadily increased in size.
Frank himself had severe attacks of fever, but none of these were so
severe as that which he had had on the day of the death of the leopards.
At the end of a month Mr. Goodenough had recovered his strength, and
they again moved forward.