Ah! what joy, after so many years, to be once more in the saddle in an
open country, with a steed of fire and spirit bounding beneath my
exhilarated frame! It was long before I could consent to obey the
summons of our guide to follow him on the path. When the gates of Kya
were behind, and the wider roads opened invitingly before me, I could
not help giving rein to the mettlesome beast, as he dashed across the
plain beneath the arching branches of magnificent cotton-woods. The
solitude and the motion were both delightful. Never, since I last
galloped from the _paseo_ to Atares, and from Atares to El Principe,
overlooking the beautiful bay of Havana, and the distant outline of
her purple sea, had I felt so gloriously the rush of joyous blood that
careered through my veins like electric fire. Indeed, I know not how
long I would have traversed the woods had not the path suddenly ended
at a town, where my Arabian turned of his own accord, and dashed back
along the road till I met my wondering companions.
Having sobered both our bloods, I felt rather better prepared for a
visit to the Satanic personage who was the object of our excursion.
About two miles from Kya, we struck the foot of a steep hill, some
three hundred feet in height, over whose shoulder we reached a deep
and tangled dell, watered by a slender stream which was hemmed in by a
profusion of shrubbery. Crossing the brook, we ascended the opposite
declivity for a short distance till we approached a shelving precipice
of rock, along whose slippery side the ledgelike path continued. I
passed it at a bound, and instantly stood within the arched aperture
of a deep cavern, whence a hot and sulphurous stream trickled slowly
towards the ravine. This was the fountain, and the demon who presided
over its source dwelt within the cave.
Whilst I was examining the rocks to ascertain their quality, the guide
apprised me that the impish proprietor of these waters was gifted with
a "multitude of tongues," and, in all probability, would reply to me
in my own, if I thought fit to address him. "Indeed," said the savage,
"he will answer you _word for word_ and that, too, almost before you
can shape your thought in language. Let us see if he is at home?"
I called, in a loud voice, "KYA!" but as no reply followed, I
perceived at once the wit of the imposture, and without waiting for
him to place me, took my own position at a spot inside the cavern,
where I knew the _echoes_ would be redoubled. "Now," said I, "I know
the devil is at home, as well as you do;"--and, telling my people to
listen, I bellowed, with all my might--"_caffra fure!_" "infernal
black one!"--till the resounding rocks roared again with demoniac
responses. In a moment the cavern was clear of every African; so that
I amused myself letting off shrieks, howls, squeals, and pistols,
until the affrighted natives peeped into the mouth of the cave,
thinking the devil in reality had come for me in a double-breasted
garment of thunder and lightning. I came forth, however, with a whole
skin and so hearty a laugh, that the Africans seized my hands in token
of congratulation, and looked at me with wonderment, as something
greater than the devil himself. Without waiting for a commentary, I
leaped on my Arab and darted down the hill.
"And so," said I, when I got back to Kya, "dost thou in truth believe,
beloved Ibrahim, that the devil dwells in those rocks of the sulphur
stream?"
"Why not, brother Theodore? Isn't the water poison? If you drink,
will it not physic you? When animals lick it in the dry season, do
they not die on the margin by scores? Now, a 'book-man' like you, my
brother, knows well enough that _water_ alone can't kill; so that
whenever it does, the devil _must_ be in it; and, moreover, is it not
he who speaks in the cavern?"
"Good," replied I; "but, pry'thee, dear Ibrahim, read me this riddle:
if the devil gets into _water_ and kills, why don't he kill when he
gets into '_bitters_?'"
"Ah!" said the Ali--"you white men are infidels and scoffers!" as he
laughed like a rollicking trooper, and led me, with his arm round my
neck, into supper. "And yet, Don Teodore, don't forget the portable
imp that you carry in that Yankee flask in your pocket!"
We did not dispute the matter further. I had been long enough in
Africa to find out that white men made themselves odious to the
natives and created bitter enemies, by despising or ridiculing their
errors; and as I was not abroad on a mission of civilization, I left
matters just as I found them. When I was among the Mahometans, I was
an excellent Mussulman, while, among the heathen, I affected
considerable respect for their _jujus_, _gree-grees_, _fetiches_,
_snakes_, _iguanas_, _alligators_, and wooden images.
Ere we set forth next morning, my noble host caused a generous meal to
be dispensed among the caravan. The breakfast consisted of boiled rice
dried in the sun, and then boiled again with milk or water after being
pounded finely in a mortar. This nutritive dish was liberally served;
and, as a new Mongo, I was tendered an especial platter, flanked by
copious bowls of cream and honey.
It is true Mandingo etiquette, at the departure of an honored friend,
for the Lord of the Town to escort him on his way to the first brook,
drink of the water with the wayfarer, toast a prompt return, invoke
Allah for a prosperous voyage, shake bands, and snap fingers, in token
of friendly adieu. The host who tarries then takes post in the path,
and, fixing his eyes on the departing guest, never stirs till the
traveller is lost in the folds of the forest, or sinks behind the
distant horizon.
Such was the conduct of my friend Ibrahim on this occasion; nor was
it all. It is a singular habit of these benighted people, to keep
their word whenever they make a promise! I dare say it is one of the
marks of their faint civilization; yet I am forced to record it as a
striking fact. When I sallied forth from the gate of the town, I
noticed a slave holding the horse I rode the day before to the Devil's
fountain, ready caparisoned and groomed as for a journey. Being
accompanied by Ibrahim on foot, I supposed the animal was designed for
his return after our complimentary adieus. But when we had passed at
least a mile beyond the parting brook, I _again_ encountered the
beast, whose leader approached Ali-Ninpha, announcing the horse as a
gift from his master to help me on my way. Ere I backed the blooded
animal, an order was directed to my clerk at Kambia for two muskets,
two kegs of powder, two pieces of blue cotton, and one hundred pounds
of tobacco. I advised my official, moreover, to inclose in the core of
the tobacco the stoutest flask he could find of our fourth proof
"bitters!"