A HAPPY ENDING.
We remained in Kazeh for about a fortnight while Hatibu was engaging men
to carry his ivory down to the coast; then, amid the farewells of the
whole settlement, who were much excited by the news of the plenty and
cheapness of ivory in Manyuema, we left for Bagamoyo, I being mounted on
a donkey given me by Musa Mzuri (handsome Moses), an Indian merchant,
who had been one of the first to settle in this place for trade.
Of my further journey to the coast there is little to tell. We
experienced the usual difficulties with the churlish Wagogo, and had to
endure hunger, thirst, and fatigue; but the countries through which we
passed have been so well and often described by travellers such as
Burton, Speke, and Stanley, that the history of our journey to Bagamoyo
would possess but little interest.
It was with feelings of joy and gratitude that I again saw the briny
waters of the ocean. Still more thankful was I when a few days
afterwards I landed at Zanzibar and heard again the English language,
to which I had so long been a stranger. Her Majesty’s consul, Colonel
Hamerton, congratulated me on being still alive and in good health after
so many and so strange adventures and experiences.
Fortunately, a few days after my arrival, the German house of Witt and
Company had a small brig which they were going to send home, and which
was to touch at various places on the West Coast of Africa to exchange
cowries collected on the shores and reefs near Zanzibar for palm oil.
With great generosity they gave me a free passage in her, either to
Hamburg, whither she was ultimately bound, or, if I preferred it, till
such time as I might fall in with an English vessel which would take me
to my own country.
We had a favourable voyage to the Bights, and I found that I had not
altogether forgotten to be a sailor; but judge of my happiness and
delight when just before entering the Old Calabar river we met a brig
coming out at whose main-royal masthead flew the familiar black flag
with a red diamond, which showed that she was the property of my father.
Captain Schmidt at once hove-to his vessel and lowered a boat, and soon
I was again standing on the quarter-deck of the _Petrel_. My brother was
now in command, with Jimmy Duds as his first mate, and their
astonishment and joy were great when they at last understood that one
they had mourned as dead was alive and again on board the old craft.
[Illustration: WAGOGO WAR-DANCE.
_Page 353._]
My brother went back with me to the German brig to thank Captain Schmidt
for his kindness and care of me, and wished him to accept payment for my
passage from Zanzibar; but the worthy fellow refused any recompense, and
it was with much difficulty that my brother induced him to accept a
silver mug, which he chanced to have on board, as a remembrance of me.
When we were again on board the _Petrel_ my brother gave me news of my
father and aunt, who were both well and hearty. The former had now given
up going down to the sea in ships, having settled down at Bristol, and
put Willie, who had obtained his masters certificate, in command of the
brig.
Pentlea, I heard, had been killed in resisting the capture of a slaver
on board which he was, and his friend Camacho had shared his fate.
At the time I had seen the _Petrel_ in the river they had been put on
their guard by my cutting the branches from the schooner’s masthead, and
they had fortunately been able to beat off the attack made by Okopa’s
people and the schooner. The latter they had jammed on the bar, where
she must have become a complete wreck. As they had not recognized me,
they had no idea of my being in their neighbourhood. Indeed they had all
supposed that I was either drowned or carried off by sharks when the
boat capsized at Whydah.
My father had reported the attack on the _Petrel_, but having been
seized with a bad fever he had gone home without revisiting the river.
It was not till on a subsequent voyage that he again visited the Ogowai,
and this time in company with an English man-of-war. They had punished
Okopa; and from Hararu, or Jack Sprat, they had learned of my being with
Karema, and had sent messengers up to bring me down, but they had
returned with the story that I was dead.
Willie said that now, if I wished, as he was free to go where he liked,
he would go to the Ogowai, and there we accordingly sailed. On entering
the river we were boarded by a canoe in which was my old friend Tom, who
had succeeded to his father, and now ruled over both his village and
that of Okopa.
Great were the rejoicings when it was known that I was alive, and these
were not lessened by the gifts that we made to all who had befriended
me.
I wished much to go up and visit Karema, but he, alas! was dead, and had
been succeeded by one of his sons, to whom I sent a present of cloth,
beads, guns, and powder, which would prove I was not ungrateful for the
kindness I had received at his father’s hands.
Tom had plenty of ivory, india-rubber, logwood, and other produce, and
before we left the Ogowai our holds were full, and we could shape our
course for England, where in due time we arrived, and my father welcomed
me as one from the dead.
Since then I have been to sea, and now command the _Petrel_, my brother
having the charge of a fine barque called the _Ocean Queen_, which my
father was able to buy a couple of years ago; and now, lying off Whydah,
I have employed my leisure time in writing down my experiences of
Africa.
One thing I have learned, and that is to commiserate the lot of the
slave. I trust that in a short time the inland traffic in human flesh
will utterly cease, and that the labours of Livingstone and those who
have followed in his footsteps will result in the opening up of Africa
to the blessings of Christianity and civilization.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Marimba are instruments formed of a number of keys of very hard
wood, arranged on a frame under which are secured a number of gourds of
various sizes. They are played on with two small sticks, and are much
more pleasant to hear than most of the instruments of savages.
[B] The people of Zanzibar when in the interior always speak of the
island we erroneously call by that name as “the island.” Unguja is the
native name of the town known as Zanzibar by Europeans.
[C] When devout Moslems mention the name of the founder of their
religion, they always add the words “whom God bless.”
End of Project Gutenberg's In Savage Africa, by Verney Lovett Cameron