OUTFITTING
The trip was begun very much as Mr. Wallace had outlined. The news
spread rapidly that Burt and Howard were going to Africa, and when the
two boys arrived at the station early Monday morning a good-sized crowd
of friends was present to see them off.
"Take good care of yourself," cautioned Mrs. St. John as she kissed her
son good-bye. "Don't be afraid to telegraph us!"
The train pulled out with a last cheer from the frat fellows, and Burt
and Howard realized that they were actually off. They arrived in New
York at noon and Mr. Wallace took them direct to the Explorers' Club for
luncheon.
Here they first began to feel in touch with the outside world. The club
was an institution composed of explorers, hunters and wanderers in
foreign lands. Its walls were decorated with game heads, arms and armor
of many savage tribes, while in glass cases were hung odd costumes and
headgear and unique relics and curios. At the dining-room tables the
boys saw bronzed and bearded men who nodded to Mr. Wallace like old
friends or spoke to him in strange tongues.
"You fellows wait for me in the library," said the explorer as they
finished luncheon. "I guess you'll find plenty to amuse you there. We'll
stop here for to-night. I'm going down to send off some cables now and
get part of our outfit ordered ahead. When I come back we'll go out and
see the town a little."
"Did you get rooms on the steamer?" asked Critch.
"Wired last night. The answer will be down here at the office but
there's not much doubt about getting them. See you in the library."
The boys made themselves at home in the library and in half an hour Mr.
Wallace returned with the stateroom slips. Then they took a taxi and
made a few purchases for the voyage. As there was nothing to be obtained
except some clean linen and a steamer rug each, they spent most of the
afternoon "seeing" New York City.
The evening spent at the club was a wonderful one to the boys. On
talking it over later they found that they had only a confused memory
of meeting several famous men and of hearing some surprising stories.
"Critch!" whispered Burt as they lay in bed. "'Member that thin fellow
with the scar on his chin? S'pose his yarn was true!"
"What? About being tortured by New Guinea cannibals?" returned his chum.
"Prob'ly. That sure was a whopper though that the man with the black
beard told! The one that'd been in China, I mean."
"Said he had photos of the Forbidden City, didn't he?" asked Burt. "Gee!
That story of his about the joss with the emerald eyes and the ropes of
pearls--"
So it went until long past midnight when the boys finally fell asleep.
They were up early and after breakfast took a taxi again and went on
board the _Carmania_, which was to sail at ten.
The voyage was uneventful to Mr. Wallace but proved of tremendous
novelty to the boys. By the time they reached Liverpool Burt felt like
new. His color was returning fast and the sea air had filled out his
lungs once more and put him into prime condition. The question of their
outfit was what puzzled the boys most until they put it up to Mr.
Wallace.
"Oh, we'll get all that in London," he explained. "I cabled ahead so
that most of it will be ready. You see, boys, these outfitters put up
boxes of food in regular amounts for each day. All I have to do is to
tell 'em how long we'll be gone and how many of us there are. They pack
a box--chop-boxes, they're called--holding enough for so many days.
According to custom the blacks only expect to carry sixty pounds, so
these boxes are made up at that weight. All are of tin, hermetically
sealed. Some firms use colored bands to distinguish the boxes but ours
numbers each box and furnishes us with lists of what they contain."
"Some system, isn't it!" exclaimed Critch admiringly. "Do we have to
carry everything with us? Must be an awful freight bill!"
"Can't go to Africa for nothing," laughed Mr. Wallace. "Yes, we'll get
most of that stuff here. We could get it at Boma but I'd sooner depend
on the English firm."
"Wish we could stay longer in London," sighed Burt. "I hate to rush off
without seeing anything of the city."
"Well, our boat leaves Tuesday afternoon and this is Friday," replied
his uncle. "Our chop-boxes are already on board, I suppose. Our
trunks--tin-lined by the way--will probably go down Monday night if we
get our stuff Saturday. I'd like to spend a week in London myself but if
we're to be back home by November we haven't much time to waste."
The Liverpool customs did not delay them long as they had only a suit
case each, and they took the night express for London. The boys were
much surprised and not a little dismayed when they entered the English
compartment cars, so different from the coaches they were used to. They
soon found that it was much nicer to travel by themselves, however, as
Mr. Wallace interviewed the guard and provided against intrusion. In the
morning they awoke to find themselves in London.
Mr. Wallace took them to the famous Carleton House for breakfast, now
entirely rebuilt after its fire of the year before. When they had
finished, all three went to the writing room.
"Take out your pencils now," said the explorer, "and get busy. I know
just about what I want to take and a list ready-made will save a lot of
time in the shops. Ready?"
The two boys were not only ready but anxious. The lists that they wrote
out were identical. Here is that of their personal effects and clothes
as Burt made it out.
Four suits underwear, Indian gauze.
Two ditto, woolen.
Two heavy gabardine shooting suits.
Two flannel shirts, khaki cartridge pockets.
Two pair high boots. One pair of soft leather.
Extra thick leggings, two pairs.
Camelshair poncho blanket, convertible.
Kid-lined gloves, two pairs.
Sleeping bag, waterproof.
Wool socks and pajamas.
Two khaki helmets.
Mosquito net for head and body.
Cholera belt, flannel.
Zeiss field glasses.
Large colored silk handkerchiefs, six.
Compass. Toilet articles.
"There," exclaimed Mr. Wallace as he ran over Burt's list, "that looks
pretty good to me. You won't need the wool underwear unless you get
prickly heat. The leggings are the most important. If you get scratched
up by spear-grass and thorns and then step into some swamp-pool it's all
off. You'd get craw-craw sure."
"What's that?" asked Critch. "Sounds like crow!"
"It's a skin disease," replied Mr. Wallace. "Something frightful, too.
The poncho will serve for blanket and raincoat, but this is the dry
season. Must have the mosquito net, though. When we get up the Aruwimi
we'll find little bees about as big as gnats but a whole lot worse, and
it'll need thick nets to keep 'em out. New for the armament."
Burt's "armory" consisted of the following weapons:
Double-barreled Holland .450 cordite rifle, for close quarters.
Winchester .405 rifle for general use.
Twenty-gauge Parker shotgun.
Eight-inch skinning knife.
"Ain't we going to take revolvers?" asked Burt disappointedly as his
uncle finished.
"No," replied the latter. "They're of no use whatever. I'll take mine
from force of habit but you chaps will never need one. Oh, the
ammunition! Put down a hundred solid and a hundred soft-nosed cartridges
for the Hollands; for the Winchesters two hundred of each, and six boxes
of shells. That'll be enough to last us double the time."
"How 'bout a camera?" asked Critch anxiously. "Will we be able to tote
one along?"
"Surest thing you know!" replied Mr. Wallace. "We'll take one of those
new moving-picture machines. They're no larger than a camera and you can
take motion pictures or straight shots on the reel."
"Gee! That'll be great!" cried Burt delightedly. "But won't the heat
spoil the reels? An' don't they cost like fury?"
"The reels will be hermetically sealed before and after using,"
explained his uncle. "Needn't worry 'bout them. The whole outfit only
costs twelve or thirteen pounds--say sixty dollars. It's well worth it,
too. Now for the tents. We're going to travel light as possible, so put
down two double-roofed ridge tents twelve by ten, with ground-sheets.
Three cots without mattresses. You'll have to do without them or
pillows--they're a beastly nuisance to pack along. Canvas bath each and
condensing outfit to supply fresh water."
"Why's that, uncle?" asked Burt in surprise. "Lots of fresh water, ain't
there?"
"Lots," smiled his uncle, "and lots o' guinea worms, fever germs,
poisons and other things in it. Better add a four-quart canteen, glass
stoppers, to your personal list. Can't take any cork or the roaches'll
eat it. Two blankets for each person, and six towels. I guess that's all
we need put down now, boys."
"Hold on there!" cried practical Critch abruptly. "How 'bout eatin'
utensils and fryin' pans, medicine, can openers and all them things?"
"All arranged for," laughed Mr. Wallace. "The cooking part of it will be
up to John Quincy Adams Washington."
"John--who?" stammered Burt. "Say it again, please!"
For answer Mr. Wallace pressed a button and a footman appeared.
"Send the manager here at once, please." The man bowed and withdrew and
while the boys were still staring at the explorer in wonder a dapper
little man appeared bowing.
"Mr. Wallace? Glad to see you looking so well, sir! What can I do for
you?"
"I want that fellow Washington," smiled the explorer. "Can you let me
have him for say three months? I'm going down to Africa and he'll have
to go along."
"Certainly! I'll send him right up, sir." The manager vanished with
another bow and Mr. Wallace turned to the boys.
"Washington--or John rather--is a Liberia boy I picked up five years
ago. He's the best cook on earth! He's been in China and South America
with me and whenever I don't need him he has a steady job as fifth chef
here. Ah, here he is!"
An immense black man appeared, wearing a grin that almost hid his face,
as Burt expressed it. He stepped up and caught the explorer's hand, not
shaking it but pressing it to his forehead as he spoke.
"Glad to see you, sar! What for you want John now?"
"Africa, John. This is my nephew, Mr. St. John, and my friend, Mr.
Critchfield, who will go along. We leave for the Congo Tuesday."
"Pleased to meet you, sar!" The grinning black pressed the hands of Burt
and Howard to his forehead in turn. "What boat we leave, sar?"
"The _Benguela_. African Steamship Company docks."
"Hit's Liverpool boat, sar! What time hit leave London docks?"
"Three o'clock, John. Here's a hundred pounds." Mr. Wallace peeled off
five twenty-pound bank notes and handed them to the negro; "that ought
to buy your outfit, eh?"
"By hall means, sar! Thank you. Hi'll 'ave most helegant brass pots,
sar!"
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Burt as the cook withdrew. "You hand out bank
notes as if you're made o' money! S'pose the coon'll ever show up with
all that wad on him?"
"Show up?" repeated Mr. Wallace. "Why, I'd turn over my bill book to him
and never count it when he gave it back! He's a blamed sight more honest
than most white men you'll meet down there. And nerve! He carried me
five miles on his back once, in northern China, stopping occasionally
to fight off a bunch of bandits. That's the kind of man John is."
"Funny accent he's got," said Critch. "I thought all coons talked like
they do down south."
"You'll get over that pretty quick!" laughed the explorer heartily.
"John can use West Coast, cockney, Spanish and half a dozen other
accents accordin' to whom he's been mixing up with latest. When we
strike the Congo he'll probably fall into French. Well, let's trot along
to Piccadilly and get measured. It's gettin' on toward noon."