AT WASHINGTON ONCE MORE.--DELIGHTS OF THE SEA-SHORE.--I HAVE
BEEN MADE A MAKAGA.--FRIENDS OBJECT TO MY RETURN INTO THE
JUNGLE.--QUENGUEZA TAKEN SICK.--GIVES A LETTER TO HIS
NEPHEW.--TAKING LEAVE.
Time passed away. In the mean time I had returned to Washington, that
beautiful little village I had built near the sea-shore on the banks of
the Fernand Vaz River. I brought down the innumerable trophies of my
wanderings while "lost in the jungle"--gorillas, chimpanzees,
kooloo-kamba, and other animals; also reptiles. The birds could be
counted by thousands, the other specimens by hundreds, all of which I
carefully stored.
Every day I would cross the tongue of land separating the Fernand Vaz
from the sea, and would go and look at the deep water of the ocean. My
eyes would try to look far into the distance, in the hope of spying a
sail. There was no vessel for me. I was still alone on that deserted
coast of the Gulf of Guinea.
I loved to steal away from Washington, and seat myself all alone on the
shore, and look at the big, long, rolling billows of the surf as they
came dashing along, white with foam; the booming sound they gave in
breaking was like music to me. It was so nice to have left that
everlasting jungle; to see prairie land and the wide expanse of the
Atlantic; to look at the sun as it disappeared, apparently under the
water. How grand the spectacle was! I loved to look at the gulls, to
hear their shrill cries, for these cries were so unlike those of the
birds of the great forest. There was also something very invigorating in
that strong sea breeze that came from the south and southwest. Beyond
the breakers I could see now and then the fins of some huge sharks
searching for their prey; sometimes they would hardly appear to move, at
other times they swam very fast.
The time had not yet come for me to return to New York. I must go back
again into the great jungle; I must discover new mountains, new rivers,
new tribes of people, new beasts, and new birds; I must have more fights
with gorillas, more elephant-hunting. I would be so glad to see
Querlaouen, Malaouen, and Gambo.
While I was in the interior, the Commi people, in great council, had
made me a _makaga_, which title only one man, and he generally the best
hunter and bravest, may bear. The office of the makaga is to lead in all
desperate frays. He is the avenger of blood. If any one has murdered one
of his fellow-villagers, and the murderer's townspeople refuse to give
him up (which almost always happens, for they think it a shame to
surrender any one who has taken refuge with them), then it is the office
of the makaga to take the great warriors of the tribe, to attack and
destroy the village, and cut off the heads of as many people as he can.
If any one is suspected of being a wizard, and runs away from his
village, it is the business of the makaga to follow and capture him. In
that case he is a kind of sheriff. In fact, he has to see that the laws
are executed.
It was only among the Commi that I heard of a makaga.
So you may conceive I did not care to be a makaga, and in a great
meeting of the chiefs I declared I could not be. But they all shouted,
"We want you, the great slayer of beasts, to be our makaga; we want you
to stay with us all the time."
I was getting well and strong again, for I had taken a long rest. I
concluded I must go again into the jungle.
My good friend Ranpano said, "Why do you wish to go back into the
forest? If you go again to countries where not one black man has ever
gone before, we shall never see you again. I have heard that the people
want you; they only desire to kill you, for they want to get your skull;
they want to make a fetich of your hair. They have many fetiches, but
they want one from your hair and brain. We love you; you are our white
man. What you tell us to do, we do. When you say it is wrong, we do not
do it. We take care of your house, your goats, your fowls, your parrots,
your monkeys, and your antelopes;" then shouted with a loud voice, "We
love you!"
To which all the people answered, "Yes, we love him. He is our white
man, and we have no other white man."
Then the king continued: "We know that writing talks; write to us,
therefore, a letter to prove to your friends, if you do not come back,
that we have not hurt you; so that when a vessel from the white-man
country comes, we can show your letter to the white men." These poor
people had an idea that every white man must know me like they knew me.
Finally, when they saw I was bound to go once more to the jungle, they
gave me up, all exclaiming in accents of wonder, "Ottangani angani (man
of the white men), what is the matter with you that you have no fear?
God gave you the heart of a leopard; you were born without fear!"
Just as I was making the final preparations for my departure, a great
trial came upon me. Quengueza, who had accompanied me to the coast,
became dangerously ill. There were murmurs among the up-river people.
I began to despair of his life. All the medicine I gave him seemed for a
while to do him no good, and he became thinner and thinner every day,
till at last he looked almost like a skeleton.
How anxious I felt! Was my great and beloved African friend to die? What
would the people say? for I had brought him down from his country. They
would surely say that I had killed their king. I could not make out what
would be the end if so great a misfortune was to happen. The murmurs of
the people, which had already began, caused me sad forebodings of the
future.
But there was still a bright spot.
Quengueza knew that, even if I could, I would not make him ill; he knew
I loved him too well, and every day he would declare that whoever said
that I had made him ill was a liar. And one morning I heard him protest
that the man who would say that his friend Chally had made him ill was a
wizard. Of course, after such talk, the people took good care to keep
their tongues quiet.
Finally he got better and better, and became stronger. What a load of
anxiety was removed from my mind!
I felt that I must go now; the rainy season was coming on. Quengueza
was not strong enough; besides, he wanted to remain, for he had business
to transact with some of the sea-shore chiefs after he was well enough
to go about.
So Quengueza called one of his nephews of the name of Rapero, and as
these people do not write, he gave him "his mouth;" that is to say, he
sent word to his brother, or, as I discovered after, to his nephew, who
reigned in his stead in Goumbi, to give me as many people as I wanted;
and he ordered that his nephew Adouma must be the chief of the party who
were to accompany me in the Ashira country, and to take me to Olenda,
the king of that people.
My dear little Commi boy Macondai was to come with me, and he was the
only one at the sea-side Quengueza would allow to return.
Then, when all was ready for our departure, I went to bid good-by to my
two best friends in Africa, King Ranpano and King Quengueza. I have told
you before how much I loved King Quengueza, the great chief of the Rembo
River. In the presence of all the people, having his idol by his side,
covered with the chalk of the Alumbi, he took my two hands in his, the
palms of our hands touching each other. Then he invoked the spirits of
his ancestor Kombe Ricati Ratenou, and of his mother Niavi, marking me
on the forehead with the _mpeshou_ (ochre) of his mother Niavi; then he
invoked her spirit, for his sake, to protect me, his great friend. He
invoked, also, the spirits of his ancestors who had done great deeds to
follow me once more in the jungle where he and his people had never
been, so that no one could hurt me.
There was a dead silence when the old chief spoke. After pausing a
while, he took a piece of wild cane, which he chewed; then put in his
mouth a little piece of the _mpeshou_, and chewed the two together. He
then spat the stuff he had chewed on me and round me, still holding my
hands, upon which he breathed gently and said, "May the spirits of my
ancestors, as the wind that I have blown upon you, follow you wherever
you go." And then he shouted with a tremendous voice, "Niavi, Kombe
Ricati Ratenou, be with my white man in the jungle where he goes!"
[Illustration: BIDDING GOOD-BY TO QUENGUEZA.]