LOST IN THE FOREST—A HERD OF ELEPHANTS LURES ME ON—SEPARATED FROM MY
HUNTERS—TWO NIGHTS ON THE GROUND AND ONE IN A TREE—FOUND AT
LAST—JOY OF THE MEN.
We had not left our encampment two hours when we fell in with a great
number of elephant tracks. These seemed to show that the elephants had
been there during the night. Further on the tracks became so numerous
that we thought several herds must have followed each other, for the
jungle was trodden down in every direction. We held a council. The men
said that the elephants were not very far away, and agreed to leave the
path and hunt the huge beasts, meeting in the evening in the spot where
we then stood. We made marks on the trees, and cut a number of boughs
and broke others, in order that we might recognize the place.
Oshoria and I were to hunt together. Quabi, Ogoola, and Ngola made up
the other party. We left the path and got into thick forest. I had never
seen so many elephant tracks before. There must have been at least one
hundred elephants together.
After two hours’ walk, we heard the tramping of the elephants ahead of
us. They were breaking the branches of trees and feeding upon the
leaves. Soon after we heard them trumpeting. I looked at “Bulldog,”
Oshoria looked at his gun also, and we marched carefully in the
direction of the elephants. I got a glimpse of several, and went towards
them. Just as I was on the point of taking aim, the elephants fled,
breaking and treading down the saplings that were in their way. I
followed the track they had left behind them, in the hope of seeing them
again. Ere long I spied a bull elephant, and seven cows. These fled
also. I chased them but was not able to overtake them.
Without my being aware of it, time had passed more quickly than I
thought. It was getting late, and I retraced my steps towards the place
where we had agreed to meet. I had lost sight of Oshoria. After a while
I found I did not recognize some of the trees I had especially noticed,
and did not see the marks we had made when following the elephants. I
began to suspect that I was walking in a wrong direction. I had not met
two ebony trees which had particularly attracted my attention on account
of their size. Surely I had gone the wrong way. I shouted after Oshoria,
but received no answer back.
Finally I came to a path which I thought was the one upon which we had
agreed to meet, but I could not tell whether I was beyond or lower down
than our place of meeting. I walked on for a while to see if I could
recognize some of the trees, but I could not.
I seated myself on the trunk of a tree that had fallen across the path
and waited for Oshoria and the other men. I had hardly seated myself
when the bloody head of a monkey with its eyes plucked out fell within a
yard in front of me, and I knew that a guanionien, the largest eagle of
the forest, was devouring his prey, perched on a giant tree, though the
foliage was so thick that I could not see the bird, called by the
natives the leopard of the air. Then I tried to call to mind how it had
happened that I had lost Oshoria, and I remembered that we had not
before seen the fallen tree upon which I was seated. This made me
believe that I was further on. I waited but Oshoria did not come. Then I
thought that perhaps he was waiting for me still further ahead, and
decided to go on myself. I broke a few branches on each side of the path
and made marks on the bark of the trees with my hunting knife. I put a
big handful of leaves on the tree upon which I had been seated, and I
laid parallel with the path three sticks, with sharp points at one end,
indicating the direction I was to take. Thus Oshoria would be sure to
know where I had gone when he passed the place.
I walked slowly. Time passed; but no Oshoria came, and night was near.
To add to my difficulties, I came to a place where the path forked into
three distinct branches. I determined to go no further that day, but to
camp for the night at the junction of these paths.
I shouted with all my might after Oshoria and the rest of my hunters,
but only the echo of my voice came back. I fired a gun, but the same
silence continued.
Fortunately I had some koola nuts with me, but before eating them, as it
was getting late, I collected a lot of dead branches, of which the
forest is full, and made four separate piles of wood for fires,—when lo!
I remembered that Oshoria had my steel and flint. I had lent them to him
to light his pipe before we started in the morning, and he had forgotten
to return them to me; and I had left my matches at Regundo’s.
I took two pieces of very dry wood, a large and a small one, and after
rubbing them rapidly and vigorously together I succeeded in getting a
little fire, to which I added some dried fungus, and soon my four fires
were in full blaze. I slept surrounded by them. During the night a dead
branch fell with a great crash and awoke me. I put more wood on the
fires to keep away the wild beasts, and went to sleep again.
When I awoke in the morning I thought of Oshoria and of my hunters and
said to myself: “Surely we shall find one another to-day.”
Taking from my bag twenty koola nuts, I ate them for breakfast; I
counted the others, and found that I had enough for a day and a half,
that is, for three meals.
When I was ready to start, I chose the centre path out of the three
branching ones, cut tree-limbs on each side, then again sharpened three
sticks at one end and laid them parallel with the path, the sharp end
designed to show the direction I had taken. I shouted now and then with
the whole strength of my lungs, “Oshoria, Oshoria,” but the forest
remained silent. Then I gave the peculiar native cry of “Whoo, whoo,
whoo—a,” which reaches very far, but no answer came back. I fired
“Bulldog,” but only its echo returned to me.
I kept on walking slowly, and towards noon I took a meal of koola nuts,
but ate only ten of them. While I was eating, “Bulldog” lay at my side.
I looked at the dear old rifle, and said to it: “‘Bulldog,’ you are the
only friend I have now: I think a great deal of you, and I love you. Do
not fail me in time of danger or hunger.”
Then, taking the precious rifle on my shoulders, I continued my way.
After a while, I heard a rustling in the jungle, and looking in that
direction, a strange sight met my eyes. I saw a bald-headed ape, the
nshiego mbouvé, with a baby. The mother had a very black face, while the
face of the baby was so white that the little fellow looked quite human.
The mother was seated on the ground eating some fruit and giving some to
the little nshiego mbouvé, that was looking in her face, seated between
her legs. I hid behind a tree and watched the two.
Then the little fellow lay on his back and his mother cleaned his skin
with her nails, taking off dandruff, or killing little insects. Once or
twice the baby nshiego mbouvé said, “Woe, woe,” and afterwards clung to
his mother’s breast. Then he climbed to her shoulders, the mother
uttering low, guttural sounds of happiness or contentment.
How human they both looked! The little fellow’s face was so pale that
one might have thought he had just recovered from a long illness. But it
was his natural color. Suddenly the big nshiego mbouvé gave a shrill,
piercing cry and with her baby holding on to her ran away into the thick
of the forest. She had evidently seen me.
I continued my way. I do not know why, but the forest seemed to me more
silent than before. I began to feel very anxious at the non-appearance
of Oshoria and my hunters. “Paul,” I said, “are you going to be lost in
this great forest, and die of starvation or illness? Your ammunition
cannot last forever, and the fever may come at any time and you may be
so feeble afterwards that you cannot help yourself. Then it will be all
over with you.”
The day went by. The path still led on—and no answer had come to my
cries of “Whoe—whoe—whoe—a.” The dim light of the forest told me that
the day was coming to its close and that it was about time to make my
camp. I stopped beside a little stream of clear water. I thought of
Oshoria, of Ngola, Quabi, and Ogoola. I wondered if they also were lost
and making their camp, and whether they were separated or together. I
looked for two pieces of dry wood, and lighted four fires, as the day
before, in the midst of which I lay down. I was very tired, for
“Bulldog” was very heavy. I was soon lulled to sleep by the murmur of
the little rivulet winding its way to some bigger one. I dreamt of home,
of friends, of corn-bread, of turkey, of roast beef. When I awoke it was
broad daylight—and only the embers of the fires remained. It was
fortunate that no leopards had been round during the night, this unusual
sleep had done me good.
I ate the last of my koola nuts, and before starting for the day I made
the same kind of marks I had made each morning, so that my men could
know the direction I had taken. I hoped I should find some koola trees,
for I was hungry. I had not left the camp ten minutes before I came to
two koola trees under which the path passed. There were but few nuts on
the ground, as the wild boars had been there but a short time before,
judging from the freshness of their tracks.
I collected what nuts there were. I was sure not to starve on that day.
“Providence,” I exclaimed, “thou art kind to me. Thou hast always been
kind to me.”
After a hearty meal of nuts I continued on my way. The path seemed
endless and was very crooked. Many a time I shouted “Oshoria, Ogoola,
Ngola, Quabi,” but got no answer. Taking courage, I said: “This path
must come to an end or reach some inhabited place.” I only fired
“Bulldog” once that day, for I had become chary of my ammunition. Again
the day passed without sight of any of my hunters. The country I
traversed was in many places very marshy, which made me believe that a
river was not far off. Before dark I built my camp. I then tried to make
a fire with two pieces of wood. I rubbed them against each other; the
little piece dug quite a hole in the big one, but no smoke came; either
it was not the right sort of wood, or it was too damp. I took some other
wood but succeeded no better. Night was fast coming on. Then I said to
myself: “I cannot sleep on the ground in the dark, for if a leopard
passes by he is sure to spring on me and devour me. Even if I climb a
tree and rest in the midst of its branches, he is sure to climb also if
he scents me.” The leopards are great tree-climbers. The only way for me
was to ascend a tall and very slim tree that no leopard could climb on
account of the small size of its trunk. Looking ahead in the path I saw
three very slender trees close together. Their branches intertwined with
each other, after a certain height. I saw that from the first tree I
could reach the second by creeping on one of its branches, and would be
able to reach the third tree, that was the highest, in the same manner.
I spied a branch about thirty feet from the ground, upon which I could
rest for the night. There the prowling leopards could not reach me. I
cut a slender creeper for a strap with which to fasten “Bulldog” on my
back when I ascended the trees; then unloaded the dear rifle, to guard
against accident. I climbed the first tree, took hold of one of its
branches and lifted myself up; but not without great trouble, for
“Bulldog” was much in the way. I succeeded, however, in reaching the
second tree; I was then about fifteen feet above the ground. To reach
the third tree from the second one was a very hazardous undertaking, and
I ran great risk of tumbling down and breaking my neck, for the branch
that was to help me to cross over was very slender; and I had some doubt
if it would carry me safely. At first I thought I would drop “Bulldog”
down, but I said upon reflection, “Paul, whatever you do, do not let
your rifle be separated from you; an elephant might come and get hold of
it with his trunk and break it; some leopard or other wild beast might
beset you.”
With some hesitation I crept upon the transverse limb—but finally
succeeded in reaching the third tree. Then I took a long breath and
rested a while, after which I ascended still higher until I reached a
height of about thirty feet, where I found a branch upon which I could
rest for the night. There the prowling leopard could not reach me. A
slender liane hung from a tree above my head, looking exactly like a
snake, and I cut off about eight feet of it, and using it as a rope,
made it fast round my waist and the trunk of the tree, so that, in case
I fell asleep, I should not fall to the ground. I should have to remain
on the tree eleven hours, for daylight would not come before that time.
Soon darkness set in.
In the silence of the night I could hear the slightest noise. Two or
three times I thought I heard little night animals walking on the dead
leaves in search of prey, but I could not see two feet ahead of me, it
was so dark. Once I thought I saw through the darkness the shining eyes
of a leopard. I thought he was looking at me. The cold perspiration
dropped from my forehead at the idea, but I was mistaken. The eyes were
two big fireflies.
[Illustration: “_With some hesitation I crept upon the transverse
limb_”]
Time seemed so long I thought the night would never come to an end. At
last I heard the cackling of the guinea fowl, the forerunner of morning,
and dawn came at last! I came down the same way I had ascended. After
reaching the ground I stretched my legs, for they were very stiff, then
ate some koola nuts. I did not like them any more; I had “gouamba,” or
hunger for meat. I shouted with all my might, “Oshoria, Ngola, Ogoola,
Quabi.” No answer. Then I fired “Bulldog,” and lo! in less than two
minutes I heard what I thought to be the detonation of a gun, far, far
off. It was certainly not the echo of “Bulldog.” A thrill of joy ran
through me. It was an answer from one of my hunters. But I did not dare
to trust my ears. Perhaps I was mistaken. To make sure, I loaded two
cartridges with twice the usual amount of powder, and then fired. The
charge was so heavy that it almost threw me over. Soon after I heard two
guns. There was no mistake this time. These were answers to mine.
I followed the path in the direction where I thought the sound came
from. After a while I fired another shot; then I heard another in
answer. This time it was much nearer. Forward I went, and after a little
while I fired again. The firing of another gun responded to mine, and
this time the detonation was quite near. I shouted, “Oshoria, Ogoola,
Ngola, Quabi,” and heard the shouts of “Oguizi, Oguizi,” in answer. A
short time after I saw in the path Oshoria, Ogoola, Quabi, and Ngola.
They were all there. In the twinkling of an eye we were in each other’s
embrace, after which the men shouted: “We are men! we are men!” Then
Oshoria seated himself on the ground, took his idol from his bag,
muttered words I could not understand, and said, “Oguizi, the idol told
me this morning that we should meet you to-day.”
Soon after a big blazing fire was burning, and a great quantity of wood
was piled upon it, and when it was reduced to charcoal, three men put
some large pieces of boar upon the embers. They had killed the animal
while searching for me. The smell of the roasted boar was delicious to
me, for I had “gouamba” badly.
Oshoria was the salt carrier. Salt was very precious to us, and it made
the boar’s meat taste so good. After our meal I recounted to them how I
had lost Oshoria, and what had happened to me.
Then came the turn of Oshoria, who said: “The elephants are the cause of
the Oguizi and me becoming separated. I followed that day the track
which I thought the Oguizi had taken, but it was the wrong one. The
second day I saw in one place the marks of the Oguizi’s shoes, but when
the ground became hard I lost them. The second day in the morning I came
to the place where we had agreed to meet. There I found Ngola, Ogoola,
and Quabi waiting for us. They asked me: ‘Where is the Oguizi?’ I
replied: ‘He is gone, he has disappeared.’ We followed the path, and saw
the marks you had left to guide us. How glad we were this morning when
we heard ‘Bulldog’ talk. Then our guns talked to ‘Bulldog.’ Our hearts
were filled with joy, for we thought we should never see the Oguizi any
more.”
Then they all cried: “Here we are once more with the good Oguizi!”
Oshoria said: “Oguizi, we thought you had changed shape, and left us.
Then we said: ‘The good Oguizi would not leave us without saying
good-by, for he told us that he loved us.’”
“You are right, my hunters,” I replied, “the Oguizi would not go away
without saying good-by to you, for you are his friends, and he loves
you.”
At my words they came forward closer to me and all looked in my face,
with great wonder. I wished I could know what their thoughts were.
“Oguizi,” said Oshoria, “though I have hunted many dry and rainy seasons
in the forest, I have never seen so many elephant tracks before. The
animals must have been driven here by being too much hunted further
inland, or by the bashikouay ants. To-morrow the path will end in a
beautiful prairie, and there we shall meet, I think, many elephants.”
We were so tired that we determined to remain where we were for the rest
of the day, as there was a clear rivulet of water close by. We had some
boar’s meat for supper, and after our meal, my hunters lay flat on their
backs upon the ground, and held the soles of their feet within a few
inches of the fire. The sole of the foot often becomes very sore from
walking upon pebbles, or upon the roots of trees, and that was the way
the natives cured the soreness of their feet. Before we knew it we were
all fast asleep.