In the meantime, clouds had been gathering round the head of King Ja Ja.

His wonderful success since 1870 had gradually obscured his former keen

perception of how far his rights as a petty African king would be

recognised by the English Government under the new order of things just

being inaugurated in the Oil Rivers; honestly believing that in signing

the Protectorate treaty of December 19th, 1884, with the _sixth_ clause

crossed out, he had retained the right given him by the commercial

treaty of 1873 to keep white men from proceeding to his markets, he got

himself entangled in a number of disputes which culminated in his being

taken out of the Opobo River in September, 1887, by Her Britannic

Majesty's Consul, Mr. H. H. Johnston, C.B., now Sir Harry Johnston, and

conveyed to Accra, where he was tried before Admiral Sir Hunt Grubbe,

who condemned him to five years' deportation to the West Indies, making

him an allowance of about L800 per annum and returning a fine of thirty

puncheons of palm oil, value about L450 in those days, which the late

Consul Hewett had imposed upon him, a fine that the Admiral did not

think the Consul was warranted in having imposed.

Poor Ja Ja did not live to return to his country and his people whom he

loved so well, and whose condition he had done so much to improve,

though at times his rule often became despotic. One trait of his

character may interest the public just now, as the Liquor Question in

West Africa is so much _en evidence_, and that is, that he was a strict

teetotaler himself and inculcated the same principles in all his chiefs.

In his eighteen years' rule as a king in Opobo he reduced two of his

chiefs for drunkenness--one he sent to live in exile in a small fishing

village for the rest of his life, the other, who had aggravated his

offence by assaulting a white trader, he had deprived of all outward

signs of a chief and put in a canoe to paddle as a pull-away boy within

an hour of his committing the offence.

During the Ashantee campaign of 1873 Sir Garnet Wolseley sent Captain

Nicol to the Oil Rivers to raise a contingent of friendly natives; on

his arrival in Bonny he was not immediately successful, so continued on

to Opobo, where he was the guest of the writer. Upon Captain Nicol

explaining his errand, Ja Ja furnished him with over sixty of his

war-boys, most of whom had seen considerable fighting in the late war

between Bonny and Opobo. The news reaching Bonny of what Ja Ja had done,

put the Bonny men upon their mettle, and when Captain Nicol reached

Bonny on his way back to Ashantee, he found a further contingent waiting

for him from the Bonny chiefs.

This combined contingent did good work against the Ashantees, being

favourably mentioned in despatches. Poor Captain Nicol, who raised them,

and commanded them in most of their engagements with the enemy, was, I

regret to say, killed whilst gallantly leading them on in one of the

final rushes just before Coomassie was taken.

In recognition of the above services of his men, Her Most Gracious

Majesty Queen Victoria presented King Ja Ja with a sword of honour, the

King of Bonny receiving one at the same time.

Shipwrecked people were always sure of kindly treatment if they fell

into the hands of Ja Ja's subjects, for he had given strict orders to

his people dwelling on the sea-shore to assist vessels in distress and

convey any one cast on shore to the European factories, warning them at

the same time on no account to touch any of their property. He was also

the first king in the Delta to restrain his people from plundering a

wrecked ship, though the custom had been from time immemorial that a

vessel wrecked upon their shores belonged to them by rights as being a

gift from their Ju-Ju--an idea held by savage people in many other parts

of the world.

It seems a pity that a man who had so many good qualities should have

ended as he did. He was a man who, properly handled, could have been

made of much use in the opening up of his country. Unfortunately, the

late Consul Hewett was prejudiced against Ja Ja from his first interview

with him, finding in this nigger king a man of superior natural

abilities to his own.

Had the late Mr. Consul Hewett had the fiftieth part of the ability in

dealing with the natives his sub and successor, Mr. H. H. Johnston,

showed, there would never have been any necessity to deport Ja Ja.

Unfortunately, between Ja Ja's stubbornness and the late Consul Hewett's

bungling, matters had come to such a pass that some decisive measures

were actually necessary to uphold the dignity of the Consular Office.

When Mr. H. H. Johnston succeeded the late Mr. Consul Hewett, the Opobo

palaver was in about as muddled a state as it was possible for it to

have got into. Matters had been in an unsatisfactory state for some

years between King Ja Ja and the late Consul. Ja Ja had over-stepped the

bounds of propriety in more ways than one. He tried the same tactics

with Mr. Johnston, who to look at, is the mildest-looking little man you

can imagine, and therefore did not fill the native's eye as a ruler of

men; but Mr. Johnston very soon let Ja Ja and the natives generally see

he was made of different stuff to his predecessor, and the first

attempts on Ja Ja's part not to act up to the lines he laid down for him

settled his fate. Mr. Johnston offered him the choice of delivering

himself up quietly as a prisoner or being treated as an enemy of the

Queen, his town destroyed and himself eventually captured and exiled for

ever. He elected to give himself up, was taken to Accra and there tried

and condemned after a fair hearing. I was present myself at the trial,

and old friend as I was to him, I don't think the verdict would have

been otherwise had I been in the judge's place, though there were many

extenuating circumstances in his case, all of which were fully

considered by Admiral Hunt Grubbe in his final sentence.

I feel confident that had Mr. Consul Johnston had the management of

affairs in the Opobo a few years earlier, Ja Ja would never have been

deported, and instead of having to censure him, he would have handled

him in such a manner as to make use of his influence in furthering

British interests. I do not think I can describe the late King Ja Ja

better than Mr. Consul Johnston did in a letter he addressed to Lord

Salisbury under date of September 24th, 1887, wherein he writes as

follows:--"Ja Ja's chief friends and supporters for years past have been

the naval officers on the coast. His generous hospitality, his frank,

engaging manner, his naif discourse, and amusing crudities of diction

have gained the ready sympathy of these gentlemen; no doubt Ja Ja is no

common man, though he is in origin a runaway slave,[89] he was cut out

by nature for a king, and he has the instinct of rule, though it not

unfrequently degenerates into cruel tyranny.

"His demeanour is marked by quiet dignity, and his appearance and

conversation are impressive.

"Nevertheless, I know Ja Ja to be a deliberate liar,[90] who exhibits

little shame or confusion when his falsehoods are exposed. He is a

bitter and unscrupulous enemy[91] of all who attempt to dispute his

trade monopolies, and the five British firms whose trade he has almost

ruined during the past two years."

A complaint often made against the Government by merchants established

on the West Coast of Africa is want of official protection and

assistance; in many cases in the past this has been the case; but they

certainly could not make this complaint during the few months that Mr.

Consul Johnston was at the head of the Consular service in the Oil

Rivers. I will here give a summary of what exertions were made by the

Government to assist the merchants in their praiseworthy attempts to get

behind the middlemen in this one river, where Ja Ja was always given the

credit of being the head and front of the obstruction, nothing ever

being said about the king and chiefs of Bonny, who were equally

interested with Ja Ja in keeping the white men out of the markets, their

principal markets being on the River Opobo.

Owing to the energetic representations of Mr. Consul H. H. Johnston, the

British Government placed at his disposal for the settlement of the

market question and the Ja Ja palaver the following Government vessels,

viz., the _Watchful_, the _Goshawk_, the _Alecto_, the _Acorn_, the

_Royalist_, and the _Raleigh_, the latter bringing Admiral Sir Hunt

Grubbe up from the Cape of Good Hope for the trial of King Ja Ja.

Result: Within a very short time after the deportation of Ja Ja, all the

firms who had been so anxious to establish in the interior markets and

thus get behind the middlemen (without doubt the curse of the Oil Rivers

and every part of Africa where they are tolerated) gave up trading at

the interior markets that had caused the Government so much trouble to

open for them, and made an agreement with the middlemen, represented in

this case by the Bonny men and Opobo men, that they would not attempt to

trade any more in the interior markets if the middlemen would promise to

trade with no European firm that attempted to trade in the interior

markets. On the writer's last visit to the Opobo in 1896 there was only

one firm trading in the interior markets, and that firm was not one of

those that were in the river at the time of the clamour for the removal

of Ja Ja and the opening of the interior in 1887.

KWO IBO.

This river was first visited in modern days in 1871 by the late Mr.

Archie McEachan, who found the people very troublesome to deal with, and

did not long remain there. No doubt the people were not so easy to deal

with as those natives that have been for some hundreds of years dealing

with Europeans; but as he was at the same time posing as a friend and

supporter of Ja Ja, and the oil he got in Kwo Ibo was being diverted

from Ja Ja's markets, the latter no doubt exerted a certain amount of

pressure on his friend, and aided, if he did not actually cause him to

decide to withdraw from Kwo Ibo.

Kwo Ibo lay fallow for some time, then one or two Sierra Leone men

attempted to trade there, but with little success, owing to the

influence King Ja Ja had in the country. It was not until 1880-1 that

any sustained effort was made to trade in this river; but about this

time a Mr. Watts established a small trading station there, and

succeeded in creating a trade, though he had a very difficult task to

combat the opposition of King Ja Ja, who considered he was being

defrauded of some of his supposed just rights. Had Mr. Watts pushed his

way into the interior markets and dealt direct with the producers, he

would deserve the united thanks of every merchant connected with the

trade in the Niger Delta; but he did not, and contented himself with

buying his produce on a little better terms than he could have done in

Opobo or Old Calabar, and created another set of middlemen, who to-day

consider they, like their neighbours, are justified in doing their

utmost in keeping the European out of the interior. Mr. Watts eventually

sold out his interest in the trade of this river to the combination of

river firms now known under the name of the African Association of

Liverpool.

A mission has been established here for some years and I had the

pleasure of meeting the missionary in charge, some two years ago, on his

way home after a long sojourn in the Kwo Ibo; his description of the

people and of the success of his mission work was most interesting. If

he has returned to the seat of his labours and is still alive, I can

only wish him every success in the work in which evidently his whole

heart was centred.

The name Kwo Ibo, which has been given to this river, gives one the idea

that the inhabitants are a mixture of Kwos and Ibos. This to a certain

extent may be a very good description as regards the inhabitants of the

upper reaches of the river, which takes its rise, so it is supposed, in

a lake in the Ibo country, afterwards passing through the Kwo, and

discharges itself into the sea about half-way between the east point of

the Opobo River and the Tom Shotts Point.

The lower part of the river is inhabited principally by Andoni men by

origin, but calling themselves Ibenos or Ibrons.

These people deserve a great deal of credit for the plucky manner in

which they withstood the numerous attacks the late King Ja Ja made upon

them, and their stubborn refusal to discontinue trading with the white

men established in their river, though they were but ill-provided with

arms to defend themselves. During several years they must have suffered

severely from the repeated raids the late King Ja Ja made upon them, not

only from losses in battle, but also in having their towns destroyed and

many of their people carried off as prisoners. Some of the earlier raids

made by Ja Ja, I must in fairness to him say, were to a great extent

brought on by the actions of the Ibrons themselves, who were not slow to

attack and slay any Opobo men they caught wandering about, if the latter

were not in sufficient numbers to defend themselves.

In language, these people are closely allied to the old Calabar people,

and many of their customs show them to have had more communication with

those people than they have had with the Andoni people, at any rate for

many years. I find no mention amongst the writings of the early

travellers to Western Africa of their having visited this river, nor is

it even named on any old chart that I have consulted, though on some I

have seen a river indicated at the spot where the Kwo Ibo enters the

sea.

Needless to mention, they were, and the majority are to-day, steeped in

Ju-Juism, witchcraft, and their attendant horrors.

The Kwo people, whose country lies on both sides of the Kwo Ibo, and

behind the Ibenos, are the tribe from whom were drawn the supplies of

Kwo or Kwa slaves known under the name of the Mocoes in the West Indies.

OLD CALABAR.

I now come to the last river in the Niger Coast Protectorate, both banks

of which belong to England, the next river being the Rio del Rey, of

which England now only claims the right bank, Germany claiming the left

and all the territory south to the river Campo, a territory almost as

large as, if not equal to, the whole of the Niger Coast Protectorate,

which ought to have been English, for was it not English by right of

commercial conquest, if by no other, and for years had been looked upon

by the commanders of foreign naval vessels as under English influence?

Owing to some one blundering, this nice slice of African territory was

allowed to slip into the hands of the Germans, hence my account of the

Oil Rivers ought to be called an account of the Oil Rivers reduced by

Germany.

In speaking of the inhabitants of this river, I must also include the

people who inhabit the lower part of the Cross River. This explanation

would not have been necessary some few years ago, but I notice the more

recent hydrographers make the Cross River the main river and the Old

Calabar only a tributary of that river, which is, without doubt, the

most correct.

The principal towns are Duke Town (where are to be found nowadays the

headquarters of the Niger Coast Protectorate, the Presbyterian Mission,

and the principal trading factories of the Europeans), Henshaw Town,

Creek and Town; besides these, the various kings and chiefs have

numberless small towns and villages in the environs. In the lower part

of the Cross river are many fishing villages, the inhabitants of which

are looked upon as Old Calabar people, and owing to the latter being the

dominant race they have to-day lost, or very nearly so, any trace of

their forefathers, who I believe to have been Kwos with a strong strain

of Andoni blood.

These villages did, in days anterior to the advent of the European

traders, an immense business with the interior in dried shrimps, the

latter being used by the natives, not only as a flavouring to their

stews and ragouts, but as a substitute for the all necessary salt.

The original inhabitants of the district now occupied by the Old Calabar

people were the Akpas, whom the Calabarese drove out, and to a great

extent afterwards absorbed. This immigration of the Calabarese is said

to have taken place very little over one hundred and fifty years ago.

Originally coming from the upper Ibibio district of the Cross River,

they belong to the Efik race, and speak that language, though nowadays,

owing to numerous intermarriages with Cameroon natives and the great

number of slaves bought from the Cameroons district, they are of very

mixed blood. Most of the kings and chiefs of Old Calabar owe their rank

and position to direct descent, some of them being of ancient lineage, a

fact of which they are very proud. In this respect they differ in a

great measure from their neighbours in Bonny and Opobo, where, oftener

than otherwise, the succession falls to the most influential man in the

House, slave or free-born.

The principal town of these people boasted, some few years ago, of many

very nice villa residences, belonging to the chiefs, built of wood, and

roofed with corrugated iron, mostly erected by a Scotch carpenter, who

had established himself in Old Calabar, and who was in great request

amongst the chiefs as an architect and builder. Unfortunately, these

houses being erected haphazard amongst the surrounding native-built

houses did not lend that air of improvement to the town they might

otherwise have done if the chiefs had studied more uniformity in the

building of the town, and arranged for wide streets in place of alley

ways, many of which are not wide enough to let two Calabar ladies of the

higher rank pass one another without the risk of their finery being

daubed with streaks of yellow mud from the adjacent walls.

The native houses of the better classes are certainly an improvement

upon any others in the Protectorate, showing as they do some artistic

taste in their embellishments. They are generally built in the form of a

square or several squares, more or less exact, according to the extent

of ground the builder has to deal with and the number of apartments the

owner has need for. In some cases, I have seen a native commence his

building operations by marking out two or three squares or oblongs,

about twenty feet by fifteen, round which he would build his various

apartments or rooms. In the centre of the inner squares, which are

always left open to the sky, you almost invariably find a tree growing,

either left there purposely when clearing the ground, or planted by the

owner; occasionally you will find a fine crop of charms and Ju-Jus

hanging from the branches of these trees.

The inner walls, especially of the courtyards, are in most cases

tastefully decorated with paintings, somewhat resembling the arabesque

designs one sees amongst the Moors. No doubt this art and that of

designing fantastic figures on brass dishes, which they buy from the

Europeans and afterwards embellish with the aid of a big-headed nail and

a hammer, comes to them from the Mohammedans of the Niger, of whom they

used to see a good deal in former days.

With regard to the dress of these people, I have not anything so

interesting to relate about them as I had of the New Calabar gentlemen.

Except on high days and holidays, there is little to distinguish the

upper classes here from the same classes in any of the other rivers of

the Protectorate, except that it might be in the peculiar way they knot

the loin cloth on, leaving it to trail a little on the ground on one

side, and their great liking for scarlet and other bright coloured

stove-pipe hats. On their high festivals the kings appear in crowns and

silk garments; the chiefs, who do not stick to the native gala garments

of many-hued silks, generally appear in European clothes, not always of

irreproachable fit, their queen, as every chief calls his head wife,

appearing in a gorgeous silk costume that may have been worn several

seasons before at Ascot or Goodwood by a London belle. Sometimes you may

be treated to the sight of a dusky queen gaily displaying her ample

charms in a low-cut secondhand dinner or ball dress that may have

created a sensation when first worn at some swagger function in London

or Paris. As the native ladies do not wear stays, and one of the

greatest attributes of female beauty in Calabar is plumpness, and plenty

of it, you may imagine that the local _modiste_ has her wits greatly

exercised in devising means to fill up the gaping space between the

hooks and eyes. I once heard a captain of one of the mail steamers

describe this job as "letting in a graving piece down the back."

One of the customs peculiar to the Old Calabar people, practised

generally amongst all classes, but most strictly observed by the

wealthier people, is for a girl about to become a bride to go into

retirement for several weeks just previous to her marriage, during which

time she undergoes a fattening treatment, similar to that practised in

Tunis. The fatter the bride the more she is admired. It is said that

during this seclusion the future bride is initiated into the mysteries

of some female secret society. Many of the chiefs are very stout, and

given to _embonpoint_, a fact of which they are very proud.

The lower-class women are not troubled with too much clothing, but still

ample enough for the country and decency's sake. As one strolls through

the town to see the market or pay a visit to some chief, one often

encounters young girls, and sometimes women, in long, loose, flowing

robes, fitting tight round the neck, and on inquiring who these are, the

reply generally comes, "Dem young gal be mission gal, dem tother one he

be Saleone woman."

The mission here is the United Presbyterian Mission of Scotland,[92] and

a great deal of good has been done by it for these people, and is being

done now, and great hopes are expected from their industrial mission,

started only a few years ago, therefore, it would be unfair to make

further comment on the latter; it is a step in the right direction.

Some of the missionaries to Old Calabar have put in about forty years of

active service, most of it passed on the coast. Amongst others who have

lived to a great age in this mission should be mentioned the Rev. Mr.

Anderson, who lived to the advanced age of between eighty and ninety

years, greatly respected by both the European and native population.

Amongst the lady missionaries the name of Miss Slessor stands out very

prominently, and, considering the task she has set herself, viz., the

saving of twin children and protection of their mothers, her success has

been marvellous, for the Calabarese is, like his neighbours, still a

great believer in the custom that says twin children are not to be

allowed to live. This lady has passed about twenty years in Old Calabar,

a greater part of the last ten years all alone at Okyon, a district

which the people of Duke Town and the surrounding towns preferred not to

visit, if they could manage any business they had with the people of

Okyon without going amongst them. Many of these old customs will now be

much more quickly stamped out than in the past, owing to the fact that

it is in the power of the Consul-General to punish the natives severely

who practise them. The preaching and exhortation of the missionaries to

the people in the past was met by the very powerful argument, in a

native's mind, that "it was a custom his father had kept from time

immemorial, and he did not see why he should not continue it," the Ju-Ju

priests being clever enough to point out to the natives that, though the

missionaries preached against Ju-Juism, they could not punish its

votaries. But that is all changed now, and even the Ju-Ju priests begin

to feel that the power of the Consul-General is much greater than that

of their grinning idols and trickery.

Though these people have been in communication with Europeans for at

least two centuries, and under British influence for upwards of sixty

years, and a mission has been established in their principal town for

the best part of fifty years, it was a common thing to see human flesh

offered for sale in the market within a very few years of the

establishment of the British Protectorate.

In judging the result of missionary effort in this river, or, in fact,

any other part of Western Africa, one is apt to exclaim, "What poor

results for so much expenditure in lives and money!" The cause is not

far to seek if one knows the native, and has sufficiently studied his

ways and customs as to be able to understand or read what is working in

his brain.

The upper or dominant classes, consisting of the kings, the chiefs, the

petty chiefs and the trade boys (the latter being the traders sent into

the far distant markets to buy the produce for their masters, and it is

from this class that many of the chiefs in most of these rivers spring)

are all, to a man, working either openly or secretly against the

missionaries. Even when they have become converts and communicants, in

very many cases they are as much an opponent as ever of the missionary.

I can fancy I see some enthusiastic missionary jumping up with

indignation depicted in every feature to tell me I am not telling the

truth about his particular converts. Well, as I expect to be called a

liar, I have taken care to admit that a very few converts are not

opposed to the missionary, in order that I may say to any missionary

that particularly wishes to wipe the floor with me that perchance his

special converts are included in the minority that is represented by the

very few cases where the convert is wholly and solely for the mission.

What are the causes that lead these people to work against the missions?

First and foremost is Ju-Ju and its multifarious ramifications,

consisting of Ju-Ju priests of the district, the Ju-Ju priests of the

surrounding country, and the travelling Ju-Ju men, described by the

natives as witch doctors, who keep up a communication of ideas and

thought from end to end of the pagan countries of West and South-West

Africa.

Secondly, not only is the teaching of Christianity opposed to Ju-Juism,

but it is also opposed to the whole fabric of native customs other than

Ju-Juism. Polygamy, for example, is an actual necessity, according to

native custom, thus a wife after the birth of an infant retires from the

companionship of her husband and devotes herself for the following two

years to the cares of nursing. Then, again, at certain times, according

to native custom, a woman is not allowed to prepare food that has to be

eaten by others than herself. This would place the man with only one

wife in a peculiar position, as it is a general custom in all these

rivers, from the kings downwards, to have their food cooked by one of

their wives. This custom arises from the fact that poisoning is known to

be very much practised amongst all the Pagan tribes, and experience has

taught the men that their greatest safety lies in the faithfulness of

their wives, for the wives are aware that they have all to lose and

nothing to gain by the death of their husbands.

Many people who have visited Western Africa will say that the reports of

secret poisoning on the coast are travellers' yarns; but to refute that

I will here describe a custom met with still in many places on the

coast, and invariably practised amongst all natives in the purely native

towns in the immediate vicinity of the coast towns. Even the coast towns

people practise it still in every case amongst themselves and in some

cases with the Europeans. Of course, I don't say that the educated negro

or coloured missionary will do it with Europeans, but many of the

educated natives will do it with the uneducated native, and this custom

is that your native host will never offer you food or drink without

first tasting it to show you it is not poisoned. While I am on this

topic, let me give any would-be travellers amongst the Pagans a bit of

advice. Once they strike in amongst the purely native, always follow

this custom; it will do no harm and may save them from unpleasant

experiences.

Thirdly, the native instinct of self-preservation is as much the first

law of nature to the negro as it is to the rest of mankind. At first

sight it might be said, "Where is the link between self-preservation and

missionary effort, and how comes it to work against the missions?" I

will try to explain this point as clearly as possible.

Naturally the first people the missionary came in contact with were the

coast tribes. These people, in almost if not every case, are

non-producers, being simply the brokers between the white man and the

interior; in not a few cases behind the coast tribes are other tribes

who are again non-producers and are the brokers of the coast brokers, or

make the coast brokers pay a tribute to them for passing through their

country. No place so well illustrated this system as the trade on the

lower Niger as it used to be conducted by the Brass, New Calabar and

Bonny men. Previous to the advent of the Royal Niger Company in that

river, these people paid a small tribute to perhaps a dozen different

towns on their way up to Abo on the Niger--some of the Brass men used

even to get as far as Onicha or Onitsha. Now that the Royal Niger

Company is trading on the Niger, none of these people can go to the

Niger to trade. Well, there you have one of the great objections to

mission effort. Each of these small tribes who were non-producers have

lost the tribute they used to exact from the Brass, Bonny and New

Calabar native brokers, therefore all the non-producers are averse to

the white man passing beyond them, be he missionary or trader. Of

course, the greatest objectors to the white man penetrating into the

interior are the coast middlemen, for it strikes at once at the source

of all their riches, all the grandeur of their chieftainship, and for

the rising generation all hope of their ever arriving to be a chief like

their father or their masters, and have a large retinue of slaves, for

the favourite slaves are in no way anxious to see slavery abolished,

because with its abolition they only foresee ruin to their ambitious

views.

Thus you will understand me when I point out to you the weak spot in

nine-tenths of the mission effort. They have been trying to look after

the negro's soul and teaching him Christianity, which in the native mind

is cutting at the root, not only of all their ancient customs, but

actually aims at taking away their living without attempting to teach

them any industrial pursuit which may help them in the struggle for

life, which is daily getting harder for our African brethren as it is

here in England.

When I am speaking of mission effort I ought to include Government

effort in the older colonies. No attempt has been made, as far as I am

aware of, to open technical schools or to assist the natives to learn

how to earn their living other than by being clerks or petty traders.

SECRET SOCIETIES AND FESTIVALS IN OLD CALABAR--AND THE COUNTRIES UP THE

CROSS RIVER

To describe all the customs of the Old Calabar people would take up more

space than I am allowed to monopolise in this work.

They have numerous plays or festivals, in which they delight to disguise

themselves in masks of the most grotesque ugliness. These masks are, in

most cases, of native manufacture, and seem always to aim at being as

ugly as possible. I never have seen any attempt on the part of a native

manufacturer of masks to produce anything passably good looking.

Egbo, the great secret society of these people, is a sort of

freemasonry, having, I believe, seven or nine grades. To attempt to

describe the inner working of this society would be impossible for me,

as I do not belong to it. Though several Europeans have been admitted to

some of the grades, none have ever, to my knowledge, succeeded in being

initiated to the higher grades. The uses of this society are manifold,

but the abuses more than outweigh any use it may have been to the

people. As an example, I may mention the use which a European would make

of his having Egbo, viz., if any native owed him money or its

equivalent, and was in no hurry to pay, the European would blow[93] Egbo

on the debtor, and that man could not leave his house until he had paid

up. Egbo could be, and was, used for matters of a much more serious

nature than the above, such as the ruin of a man if a working majority

could be got together against him. This society could work much more

swiftly than the course adopted in other rivers to compass a man's

downfall; _vide_ Will Braid's trouble with his brother chiefs in New

Calabar.

The country up the Cross River, which is the main stream into the

interior, improves a very few miles after leaving Old Calabar; in fact,

the mangrove disappears altogether within twenty miles of Duke Town,

being replaced by splendid forest trees and many clearings, the latter

being, in some instances, the farms of Old Calabar chiefs. On arriving

at Ikorofiong, which is on the right bank of the river, you find

yourself on the edge of the Ikpa plain, which extends away towards Opobo

as far as the eye can see. I visited this place thirty-five years ago,

and stayed for a couple of days in the mission house, the gentleman then

in charge being a Dr. Bailey. At that time this was the farthest station

of the Old Calabar mission; since then they have established themselves

in Umon, and have done great service amongst these people, who were

previously to the advent of the mission terribly in the toils of their

Ju-ju priests. The people of Umon speak a language quite different from

the Calabarese. Umon is about one hundred miles by water from Old

Calabar.

Twenty or thirty miles further up the Cross River you come to the

Akuna-Kuna country, inhabited by a very industrious race of people,

great producers and agriculturists, and having abundance of cattle,

sheep, goats and poultry. These people received one of Her Majesty's

consuls with such joy and good feeling, and so loaded him with presents

of farm produce, that his Kroo boatmen suffered severely from

indigestion while they remained in the Akuna-Kuna country. A little

farther up the river is the town of Ungwana, a mile or so beyond which

is now to be found a mission station. This district is called Iku-Morut,

and a few years ago the inhabitants were never happy unless they were at

war with the Akuna-Kuna people. This state of things has been much

modified by the presence in the country of protectorate officials.

About sixty miles by river beyond Iku-Morut is the town Ofurekpe, in the

Apiapam district. This place, its chief and people are everything to be

desired, the town is clean, the houses are commodious, the inhabitants

are friendly, and their country is delightful. They are a little given

to cannibalism, but, I am very credibly informed, only practise this

custom on their prisoners of war.

Beyond this point the river passes through the Atam district, a country

inhabited, so I was informed, by the most inveterate of cannibals. Not

having visited these people, I am not able to speak from personal

experience; but as I have generally found in Western Africa that a

country bearing a very bad character does not always deserve all that is

said against it, I shall give this country the benefit of the doubt, and

say that once the natives get accustomed to having white people visit

them, and have got over the fearful tales told them by the interested

middlemen about the ability of the white men to witch them by only

looking at them, then they will be as easy to deal with, if not easier,

than the knowing non-producers.

I know of one interior town, not in Old Calabar, where the principal

chief had given a warm welcome to a white man and allotted him a piece

of ground to build a factory on, which he was to return and build the

following dry season. Before the time had elapsed the chief died,

without doubt poisoned by some interested middleman. When the white man

went up to the country according to his agreement, the new chief would

not allow him to land, and accused him of having bewitched the late

chief. The white trader was an old bird and not easily put off any

object he had in view, so stuck to his right of starting trade in the

country, and by liberal presents to the new chief at last succeeded in

commencing operations, with the result that the new chief died in a very

short time and the white man, who was put in charge of the factory, was

shot dead whilst passing through a narrow creek on his way to see his

senior agent, this being done in the interior country so as to throw the

blame upon the people he was trading with. No one saw who fired the

fatal shot, and the body was never recovered, as the boys who were with

him were natives belonging to the coast people and in their fright

capsized the small canoe he was travelling in, so they reported; but

some months after the white man's ring mysteriously turned up, the tale

being it was found in the stomach of a fish.

I will here describe one other very practical custom that used to be

observed all over the Old Calabar and Cross River district, but which

has disappeared in the lower parts of the river, owing no doubt to the

efforts of the missionaries having been successful in instilling into

the native mind a greater respect for their aged relatives than formerly

existed. If it ever occurs nowadays in the Calabar district it can only

take place in some out of the way village far away in the bush, from

whence news of a little matter of this kind might take months to reach

the ears of the Government or the missionary; but this custom is still

carried on in the Upper Cross River, and consists in helping the old and

useless members of the village or community out of this world by a tap

on the head, their bodies are then carefully smoke-dried, afterwards

pulverised, then formed into small balls by the addition of water in

which Indian corn has been boiled for hours--this mixture is allowed to

dry in the sun or over fires, then put away for future use as an

addition to the family stew.

With all the cannibalistic tastes that these people have been credited

with, I have only heard of them once ever going in for eating white men,

and this occurred previous to the arrival in the Old Calabar river of

the Efik race, if we are to trust to what tradition tells us. It appears

that in 1668-9 four English sailors were captured by the then

inhabitants of the Old Calabar River; three of them were immediately

killed and eaten, the fourth being kept for a future occasion. Whether

it was that being sailors, and thus being strongly impregnated with salt

horse, tobacco and rum, their flesh did not suit the palate of these

natives I know not, but it is on record that the fourth man was not

eaten, but kindly treated, and some years after, when another English

ship visited the river, he was allowed to return to England in her.

Since that date, as far as I know, no white men have ever been molested

by the Old Calabar people.

There has been occasionally a little friction between traders and

natives, but nothing very serious, though it is said some queer

transactions were carried on by the white men during the slave-dealing

days.

FOOTNOTES:

[80] "Shake-hand" was a present given by a trader each voyage on his

arrival on the coast to the king and the chiefs who traded with him; the

Europeans themselves gradually increased this to such an extent that

some of the kings began to look upon it as a right, which led to endless

palavers; if it is not completely abolished by now, it ought to be.

[81] "Dashing"--native word for making presents. This word is a

corruption of a Portuguese word.

[82] Brohemie, founded by the late chief Alluma between fifty and sixty

years ago. Chinome, a powerful chief, fought with Allumah in 1864-5 for

supremacy; the former was conquered, and died some few years after.

Chief Dudu, not mentioned in the text, founded in 1890 Dudu town, and is

to-day a most loyal and respected chief. Chief Peggy died in 1889. Chief

Ogrie died in 1892, Chief Bregbi also died some years ago.

[83] This preparation is made from the pericarp of the Raphia Vinifera

pounded up into a pulplike mass, which they mix in the water in their

canoes and then bale out into the water in the creek.

[84] One good thing the missionaries have done since they have been in

Brass, and that is, that, of persuading the natives, or at least the

greater part of them, to give up the worship of this snake; and this

part must have included the most influential portion of Brass society,

for since about the year 1884 the Ju-Ju snake is killed wherever seen

without any disastrous consequences to the killer.

[85] As an evidence of how secret the natives of these parts have always

tried to keep, and have to a great extent kept, the knowledge of the

various various creeks from the white men since the abolition of the

slave trade, I may point to this creek, which is clearly marked and the

soundings given in the old charts, _circa_ 1698, but was quite unknown

to the present generation of traders, until Capt. Cawthorne, of the

African Steamship Company rediscovered it about 1882-4. I well remember

this creek being carefully described to me by Bonny men in 1862 as the

haunt of lawless outcasts from Bonny and the surrounding countries,

cannibals and pirates. About this time I was stationed in New Calabar,

and in roaming about the creeks looking for something to shoot, I came

across this beautiful wide creek and followed it until I sighted Breaker

Island; but being only in a small shooting canoe I was forced to turn

back the way I had come. The next morning I was favoured by the visit of

King Amachree, the father of the present king, who said he had heard

from his people that I had been down this creek, and he had come to warn

me of the danger I ran in visiting that creek, giving me the same

description that the Bonny men had done some months earlier. I laughed

and told him I had heard the same yarn from the Bonny men. Later in the

same year I mentioned my visit to an old freeman in Bonny, named Bess

Pepple. He being a little inebriated at the time, let his tongue wag

freely, and informed me that it was a creek often used by the slavers

during the time the preventive squadron was on the coast, to take in

their cargo. In one instance that he remembered he said there were five

slavers up that creek when two of Her Majesty's gunboats were in Bonny,

about the year 1837. About this time (1862) a mate of a ship who was in

charge of a small schooner running between New Calabar and Bonny was

forced by stress of weather to anchor inside the seaward mouth of this

creek, and was attacked during the night by some natives, carried on

shore, tied to a tree and flogged, the cargo of the schooner plundered,

and the Kroomen also flogged. Complaint being made to the kings of New

Calabar and Bonny, they both replied with the same tale: "We no done

tell you we no fit be responsible for dem men who live for dem creek; he

be dam pirate." This was true they had, but the mate swore he recognised

some Bonny men amongst his assailants.

[86] Efik race--the inhabitants of Old Calabar, said to have come from

the Ibibio country, a district lying between Kwo country and the Cross

River.

[87] Jamming, a trade term, meaning making an agreement to buy or sell

anything at an agreed price.

[88] This king is now dead, he was the last of the kings of New Calabar,

the country being now ruled over by a native council under the direction

of the Niger Coast Protectorate officials.

[89] This is an error into which the late Consul Hewett no doubt led Mr.

Johnston, as Ja Ja had been since 1861-2 a chief in Bonny and recognised

as one of the regents of that place; originally a slave, I will admit,

but not a runaway one.

[90] This failing is called diplomacy in civilised nations.

[91] Monopolies have led Europeans on the West Coast of Africa to be

equally as unscrupulous and bitter enemies of any one, white or black,

who have attempted to dispute their trade monopolies.

[92] Established in Old Calabar in 1846.

[93] It is called blowing Egbo because notice is given of the Egbo law

being set in motion against any one by one of the myrmidons of Egbo

blowing the Egbo horn before the party's house.

APPENDIX II

PART I

A VOYAGE TO THE AFRICAN OIL RIVERS TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AGO. BY JOHN

HARFORD

It was in the month of December, 1872, when I with seventeen others left

our good old port of Bristol bound for one of the West African oil

rivers on a trading voyage. It was a splendid morning for the time of

year: bright, fine, and clear, when we were towed through our old lock

gates, with the hearty cheers, good-byes, and God-speed-yous from our

friends ringing in the air; and although there were some of us made sad

by the parting kiss, which to many was the last on this earth, there was

one whose heart felt so glad that he has often described the day as

being one of the happiest in his life, and that one was your humble

servant, the writer. Our first start was soon delayed, as we had to

anchor in King Road and wait a fair wind. And now a word to any hearers

who may be about to start on a new venture. Always wait for a fair

wind--when that comes make the best use you can of it. Our fair wind

came after some two weeks, and lasted long enough for us to get clear of

the English land; but before we were clear of the Irish, we encountered

head winds again. Being too far out to return, we had to beat our ship

about under close reefed topsails for another week. This was a rough

time for all on board. At last the wind changed, and we this time

succeeded in clearing the Bay of Biscay and then had a fairly fine run

until we reached St. Antonia, one of the Cape de Verde Islands. This we

sighted early one morning, and in the brilliant tropical sunshine it

appeared to me almost a heavenly sight. We soon passed on, the little

island disappeared, and once more our bark seemed to be alone on the

mighty ocean. After a week or so we sighted the mainland of that great

and wonderful continent Africa--wonderful, I say, because it has been

left as if it were unknown for centuries, while countries not nearly its

equal in any way have had millions spent upon them. Our first land fall

was a port of Liberia. Liberia, I must tell you, is part of the western

continent with a seaboard of some miles. It was taken over by the

American Republic and made a free country for all those slaves that were

liberated in the time of the great emancipation brought about by that

good man William E. Channing. Here, on their own land, these people, who

years before had been kidnapped from their homes, were once more free.

After a week's buffeting about with cross currents and very little wind

we at last reached the noted headland of Cape Palmas, a port of Liberia;

we anchored here for one night and next morning were under way again.

This time, having a fair wind and the currents with us, we soon made our

next stopping place, which was a little village on the coast-line called

Beraby. Here we had our first glimpse of African life. Directly we

dropped anchor a sight almost indescribable met the eye of what appeared

to be hundreds of large blackbirds in the water. We had not long to wait

before we knew it was something more than blackbirds, for soon the ship

was crowded from stem to stern with natives from the shore jabbering

away in such a manner very alarming to a new-comer. I am not ashamed to

confess that I was anything but sorry when the ship was cleared and we

were off once more; this was soon done as we had only to take on board

our Kroo men, or boys, as they are always called, although some of them

are as finely built as ever a man could wish to be. We took about twenty

of these boys, who engage for the voyage and become, like ourselves,

part of the ship's crew. After each one had received one month's pay

from our captain, and duly handed it over to their friends, and said

their good-byes, general good-wishes were given, and we again up anchor,

and set sail for the well-known port of Half Jack, which ought to be

called the Bristol port of Half Jack, for here we met some half-dozen

Bristol ships, who gave our captain a regular good old Bristol welcome.

A few words about this important port may be of interest, although I am

sorry to say we have managed to let it, valuable as it is, get into the

hands of the French, like many more in that part. Half Jack is a very

low-lying country with a large lagoon, as it is called running, between

it and the mainland. Along the sides of this lagoon the country villages

are situated, which produce that great product palm oil; this is sold to

the Half Jack men, who in turn sell to our Bristol men and they ship it

to all parts of Europe. We now leave Half Jack to its traders and

natives, and after our captain has paid his complimentary visits, we set

sail for the Gold Coast town of Accra; but before reaching that, we have

to pass many fine ports and splendid headlands. Axim, in particular, I

must mention, as it has recently come very much to the fore, owing to

the great quantity of mahogany that is now being exported from there, a

wood that has revolutionised the furniture industries of this

country--it has also enabled the thrifty men and women of England to

make their homes more bright and cheerful by giving them the very cheap

and beautiful furniture they could not have dreamed of years ago, when

the only mahogany procurable was the black Spanish, which was far too

expensive for ordinary persons to think about. Axim, in addition to this

great export of wood, is the port of departure for the West African gold

mines, and they will I have no doubt, in time prove of great value. The

Ancobra River empties itself here. Axim being at its mouth, this river

would be very useful in helping to develop the interior of this part,

were it not that the mouth was so shallow and dangerous, two obstacles

that the science of the future will, I expect, remove. We are now

passing some of the finest specimens of coast scenery it is possible to

see. I can better describe it by comparing it somewhat to our North

Devon and Cornwall coasts, such splendid rocks and headlands and land

that I venture to say will eventually prove very valuable.

We next come to the important town of Elmina, one of the departure ports

of the Ashantee country, and also where all noted prisoners are kept.

King Prempeh, late of Ashantee, is now awaiting her Majesty's pleasure

there; many others have found Elmina their home of detention after

attempting to disobey our gracious Queen's commands.

Cape Coast Castle is our next noted place. This is the chief departure

port for the Ashantee country, and was at one time the Government seat

for the Gold Coast Colony. It is a very fine rock-bound port, and from

the sea its square-topped, white-washed houses, and its Castle on the

higher promontory, form an imposing-looking picture. It is second to

Accra for importance in this part; much gold comes from here. It is also

a celebrated place for the African-made gold jewellery, some of which is

very beautiful in design and workmanship. The grey parrots form a great

article of barter here. Hundreds of these birds are brought to Liverpool

every week, I may almost say all from this place. The people are chiefly

of the Fantee tribe, and a fine and intelligent race they are. They have

good schools, and many of the younger men ship off to other parts of the

coast as clerks, &c. Good cooks may be engaged from here, which is a

fact I think well worth mentioning.

And now we sail on to the present seat of Government for the Gold Coast

Colony, Accra. This is a fine country, a flat, table-like land along the

front, with the hills of the hinterland rising in the background. The

landing here is somewhat dangerous in the rough season, and great care

has to be taken by the men handling the surf-boats to avoid them

capsizing. Many lives have been lost here in days gone by.

I told you before why we called at the Kroo village Beraby, and the port

of Half Jack. We now anchored at Accra to engage our black mechanics,

for which the place is noted. Here you may procure any kind of mechanic

you may mention--coopers, carpenters, gold-and silver-smiths,

blacksmiths, &c. In those early days the coopers and carpenters were

engaged to assist our Bristol men, but to-day the whole of the work is

done by the natives themselves. I do not think you would find a white

cooper or carpenter in any of the lower ports, some of the natives

being very clever with their tools. We also engaged our cooks, steward,

and laundry men, which any establishment of any size in these parts must

keep. For all these trades the natives have to thank chiefly the Basel

Mission, which is, I believe, of Swiss origin. This mission started

years ago to not only teach the boys the word of God, but to teach them

at the same time to use their hands and brains in such a way that they

were bound to become of some use to their fellow men, and command ready

employment. This mission, I cannot help feeling, has been one of the

greatest blessings they have ever had on that great continent. It has

sent out hundreds of men to all parts, and to-day the whole of the West

Coast is dependent upon Accra for its skilled labour. This way of

instructing the natives is now, I am pleased to say, being followed by

nearly all our missionary societies, and it is certainly one of the best

means of civilising a great people like the Africans are.

Not to take powder and shot and shoot them down because they don't

understand our Christian law, but teach them how to make and construct,

that they in time may become useful citizens, and that they may be

better able to learn the value of the many valuable products growing in

their midst, they will be ever thankful to us and bless our advent among

them. These Accra people are a very fine race, clean, and distinctly

above the ordinary type of negro, clearer cut features, well-built men

and women. The women, especially, are superior to any of the West

Africans I have met with up to the present. They, like their husbands,

are fond of dress, and, like their husbands too, are hard-working and

industrious; this was shown by the readiness of these people to

undertake the porterage in the prompt manner they did for the late

Ashantee Expedition, and which must have done a great deal towards

bringing about the success of the same. You will be better able to

understand this if you will suppose, we will say, six thousand men were

landed at Land's End, their destination being Bristol, and with no train

or horse to carry the food supply and ammunition, let alone the heavy

guns. For this work some thousands of porters are required, each one of

which must carry from 60 to 100 pounds in weight. This is carried on the

head, and when I tell you these people think nothing of doing twenty

miles a day, day after day, you will realise how physically strong they

must be. The manner in which they rallied round the Government--men,

women, and children--as soon as it was decided an expedition should be

sent, must have been very encouraging to those in command.

One thing, however, about these Accra people, while they have very much

improved themselves in their dress they have not improved their villages

as much as we would wish to see, but this will all come in time. Our old

towns used to abound in narrow courts and lanes, while we to-day like to

see open spaces, broad streets, &c., with plenty of fresh air, knowing

it is an absolute necessity to us, and it should be the first care of

our councillors to do away as far as possible with all dens and alleys,

so that if the cottage is small, the cottager can breathe pure, fresh

air; for, as you all know, the working man's stock-in-trade is his

health--when that goes, the cupboard is often bare.

Now, I think it is about time we hove anchor and said good-bye to Accra.

Our coopers and carpenters are engaged, and our crew being completed we

set sail for our destination.

After being some four or five days crossing the Bight of Biafra, we

sighted the island of Fernando Po. Here our captain having to do a

little business, we anchor for the night in the harbour of Santa Isabel.

The little island of Fernando Po once belonged to us, but we exchanged

it some years ago with the Spanish Government for another island in the

West Indies, which our Government thought of more value. This, as far as

the West Coast was concerned, was a pity, because at the time I am

speaking of the island was a flourishing place, with about half-a-dozen

or so English merchants, and a fairly good hotel; but not so now, for

while there is still business going on, the place is not advancing, and

a place that does not advance must go back. The chief merchants there

to-day are English. This the Spanish would not have if they could help

it, but being under certain obligations to them they suffer them to

remain.

The first view of Fernando Po when you arrive in the bay is a perfect

picture; it makes one almost feel they would never like to leave there;

its white houses all round the front on the higher level, its wharves

and warehouses at the bottom, and its beautiful mountain rising

magnificently in the background. Its whole appearance is very similar to

the island of Teneriffe. It seems strange that here, almost in the

middle of the tropics, if you have any desire to feel an English winter,

you have only to go to the top of the Fernando Po mountain, which can

easily be done in two days, or even less, for while at the foot the

thermometer is registering 85 deg. or 90 deg. in the shade, on the top there is

always winter cold and snow.

Now, I think we had better continue our journey. We took a few

passengers on board, and then set sail for the Cameroon River. This

being only fifty or sixty miles distant, we were not long before we came

to anchor off what is called the Dogs' Heads. Here we had to wait the

flood, and almost three-quarter tide, to enable our ship to pass safely

over a shallow part of the river called the flats. Now we come in sight

of the then noted King Bell's Town, called after a king of that name.

Here our ship is moored with two anchors, and here she has to remain

until the whole of her cargo has been purchased. This was done, and is

even to-day, by barter, that is exchanging the goods our ship has

brought out for the products of the country, which at that time

consisted only of palm oil, ivory, and cocoa-nuts; but before we

commence to trade the ship has to be dismantled--top spars and yards

taken down, and carefully put away with the rigging and running gear;

spars are then run from mast to mast, and bow to stern, forming a ridge

pole; then rafters are fastened to these coming down each side,

supported by a plate running along the side, supported by upright posts

or stanchions; the rafters are then covered with split-bamboos, over

these are placed mats made from the bamboo and palm trees. It takes, of

course, some thousands of mats to cover the ship all over, but this is

done in about a month, and all by natives who are engaged for that

particular work and belonging to that place. Our ship now being housed

in, all hands who have not been sent to assist in taking another ship to

England are given their different duties to assist the captain in

carrying on the trade.

TRADING IN THE CAMEROONS

Each ship in those days had what was then called a cask house, that was

a piece of land as nearly opposite as possible to where the ship lay

moored. This land was always kept fenced round with young mangrove props

or sticks, forming a compound; inside this compound would be two,

perhaps three, fairly good sized stores or warehouses, and also an open

shed for empty casks which had to be filled with palm oil and stowed in

the ship for the homeward voyage. Now the first work to be done after

the ship was made ready for trading, was to land as much of her cargo as

was not immediately required for trading purposes, such as salt,

caskage, earthenware, and all heavy goods. Salt in those days, as in the

present, formed one of the staple articles of trade, therefore a ship

would generally have from 200 to 300 tons of this on board, all of which

would have to be landed into one of these store houses. At that time

that meant a lot of labour, as every pound had to be carried by the

natives from the boats to the store in baskets upon the head, over a

long flat beach. To-day all this is altered, the salt is sent out in

bags, and each store has a good iron wharf running out into the river

with trolly lines laid upon it, which runs the goods right into the

store, and so saves an immense amount of labour. After the salt came the

casks, packed in what are called shooks; that is, the cask when emptied

at home here, is knocked down and made into a small close package and in

that condition only taking up an eighth part of the room it would take

when filled with the palm oil, thus enabling the ship to carry, in

addition to her cargo, enough casks to fill her up again completely

when filled with oil. To carry on this work the crew of the ship was

divided into two parts, one to work on board, the other on shore. The

shore work was generally allotted to the Kroo boys we engaged up the

coast, with one of the white men in charge, while the white crew with

three or four natives would work the ship. In addition to all this work,

trade would be going on every day, which meant 100 or so natives coming

and going constantly from half-past five in the morning until three or

four in the afternoon, when trade would cease for the day. This release,

I need scarcely tell you, was most welcome to us all, for during the

whole of this time the ship was nothing but a continual babel, which not

unfrequently ended in a free fight all round, when, of course, a little

force had to be used to restore quiet.

The trading would be carried on in this way. The after end of the ship

was partitioned off and made to resemble a shop as nearly as possible,

in this were displayed goods of all kinds and descriptions too numerous

to mention here. In front of this shop, at a small table, the captain

sat, while an assistant would be in the shop ready to pass any goods

that were required out to the purchasers, who first had to take their

produce, whatever it might be, to the mate, who would be on the main

deck to examine the oil and see that it was clean and free from dirt of

any kind; he would also measure whatever was brought by the natives,

then give them a receipt, or what was commonly called a book. This book

was taken to the captain, who would ask what they required. All that

could be paid for from the shop was handed over, while for the heavy

goods another receipt or book was given which had to be handed to the

man in charge of the store on the beach, who gave the native his

requirements there. So the work would go on from day to day, and month

to month, until the whole of the ship's cargo had been bought, then the

mat roof was taken off, masts and spars rigged up, sails bent and the

ship made ready to sail for Old England. This, I must tell you, was a

happy time for all on board, after lying, as we often did, some fourteen

or fifteen months in the manner I have described. During these long

months many changes took place; some of our crew fell ill with fever,

and worst of all dysentery, one of the most terrible diseases that had

to be contended with at that time. Three of our number, one after the

other, we had to follow to the grave, while others were brought down to

a shadow.

Here I experienced my first attack of African fever, which laid me low

for some two weeks. I remember quite well getting out of my bed for the

first time; I had no idea I had been so ill; I could not stand, so had

to return to my berth again. This was a rough time for us--we had no

doctor, and very little waiting upon, I can tell you. If the

constitution of the sufferer was not strong enough to withstand the

attack he generally had to go under, as it was impossible for the

captain to look after the sick and do his trade as well, and as he was

the only one supposed to know anything about medicine, it was a poor

look out. (I have known, after a ship had been out a few months, not a

white man able to do duty out of the whole of the crew.) These were our

hard times, as, in addition to working all day, the white crew had to

keep the watch on board through the night, while the Kroo boys did the

same on shore. So that when any of our men were ill, the watch had to be

kept by the two or three that were able. Many a night after a hard day's

work I have fallen fast asleep as soon as I had received my

instructions from the man I relieved. I fear my old captain got to know

this, for he used to come on deck almost always in my watch, and

sometimes ask me the time, which I very rarely could tell him. One night

he caught me nicely. I was fast asleep, when suddenly I felt something

very peculiar on my face. I put my hands up to rub my eyes as one does

when just awakening, and, to my horror, my face was covered with palm

oil, our captain standing at the cabin door laughing away. "What is the

matter?" he said; "has anything happened?" "Yes," I replied; "you have

given me the contents of the oil-can." I need scarcely tell you I did

not sleep much on watch after that. The wonder to me now is that we did

not lose more lives during that trying time.

Rumours of wars, as they were called, amongst the natives occasionally

reached us, but we were left pretty much unmolested. One day the captain

and I had a free fight with fifty or sixty natives, some of whom had

stolen a cask from our store, which I happened to discover. We got our

cask back and a few of them had more than they bargained for. Another

time while I was on board a ship fitting out for home, the captain of

her saw a native chief coming alongside who was heavily in his debt, so

he made up his mind, without saying a word to any one, to make him a

prisoner, so he invited him downstairs to have a glass of wine, leaving

the forty or so people who had accompanied their chief in his canoe on

deck. The captain then quietly locked him up, the chief shouted for

assistance, his people rushed down and the tables were soon turned, for

they took the captain prisoner and nearly killed him into the bargain,

one man striking him with a sword nearly severed his hand from his arm,

the two or three whites on board were powerless. The natives having

taken complete charge of the ship, we managed to hoist our flag for

assistance, which was soon at hand, but too late to be of any use, for

as soon as they had liberated their chief from his imprisonment, they

all made off as quickly as they could to their own village. The captain

was of course greatly to blame for not saying a word to any of us of his

intention and for so underrating the strength of the chief's people. The

chief was eventually brought to justice, however, by our own Consul.

One other little break occurred to me to vary the monotony of those long

months. Attached to our ship was a small cutter which used to run down

to small villages outside the Cameroon River. To one called Victoria I

journeyed once with the mate and our little craft on a small trading

venture. Victoria is situated at the foot of the splendid Cameroon

mountain, which, like its neighbour at Fernando Po, always has snow at

the peak; it is over 13,000 feet high and at that time only one or two

men had ventured to the summit--one was, I believe, the late Sir Richard

Burton. Since then several others have succeeded, amongst them the

present Sir Harry Johnston, who did a lot of travelling when he was

Vice-Consul, in those parts. Victoria is a snug little place. It was

founded some years ago by a very old missionary, a Mr. Seagar, a man who

did a great work in his time and whose name will never be forgotten in

the Cameroon River. It lies in what is called Ambas Bay, which is

sheltered somewhat from the south-west winds by two small islands. On

one of these a British Consulate was erected a few years ago. The whole

of this part as well as the Cameroon River is now a portion of the

German Colony. We soon completed our business here and returned once

more to our duties in the river. Between Victoria and Cameroon is the

village of Bimbia, said to be one of the most noted slave depots in the

district. Hundreds of slaves used to be shipped from here in the days

when the trade was allowed, and it is said that some time after the

trade was prohibited one of these slave ships was just about to embark

her human freight, when a British man-o'-war hove in sight. The captain,

thinking his ship would be taken--and it was, I believe--and wanting to

secure the golden dollars he had, took them to the shore and buried

them. This is said to be thousands and thousands of pounds and is still

unfound, so goes the tale. I tell it to you as it was told to me.

Our daily routine in the river was so similar that we will now consider

the whole of the ship's cargo had been bought, and she is getting ready

to make a start for home, which we were all very glad of; but our joy

did not last long, for the mail arriving just at that time with letters

from England, the captain received communication from our owners that

they were sending out another ship, which he was instructed was for our

chief mate to take charge of. That meant that the mate would have to

remain to lay the cargo of her, while our old ship went home; but the

poor man had been very ill for some time previous to this news, and was

totally unfit to take charge; so under the circumstances there was only

one thing to be done, and that was for the captain to remain and send

the mate home. As soon as this was decided upon, two of us were asked to

stay behind and help to work the newly-arrived vessel. I was one, the

cook was the other (our skipper liked to be looked after in the eating

department). Well, we soon settled down in our new quarters, and in a

week or so said good-bye to our old ship and shipmates, who were jolly

glad to get out of the river, and did not envy us poor fellows who had

to go through all the old duties over again without a bit of change.

However, we entered upon our work with cheerful hearts. We had a good

captain, and had no intention of leaving him as long as he remained out.

Perhaps a word or two about the natives' trade tricks might interest

you, then you will see a mate's life on an African trading ship was not

altogether a "bed of roses"; and he had to be pretty sharp to catch

them, otherwise our wily friends would be sure to have him. For

instance, they had a happy knack of half-filling their casks with thick

wood, secured in such a way to the inside of the heads that, instead of

there being fifty gallons of oil in the cask which it would measure by

the gauging rod, it would possibly not contain more than twenty-five;

water, too, was very often introduced to make up a deficiency, and if

you happened to tell our friend his oil contained water, you were told

not water, it is rain. Another dodge was to mix a certain kind of herb

with the oil, which caused it to ferment, so that half casks could very

easily be made to look full ones. Dirt as well was freely used by the

natives when they thought they could get it passed, so one had to keep

one's eyes open.

APPENDIX II

PART II

PIONEERING IN WEST AFRICA; OR, "THE OPENING UP OF THE QUA IBOE RIVER"

In the year 1880, I was asked by a Liverpool firm to undertake certain

work in connection with one of the trading establishments on the Old

Calabar River. The offer came at a very opportune time. Being anxious to

improve my position, like most young fellows, I accepted, and was soon

on the way to my new undertaking. My first business was to take an old

ship, that had seen the best of her days, and had been lying there in

the stream for many years as a trading hulk, now being considered unsafe

to remain longer afloat. I had to place her on the beach in such a way

that she could still be used as a trading establishment. This was not a

small matter, as the beach upon which she had to be placed was not a

good one for the purpose. However, I found that if I could get her to

lie on a certain spot I had carefully marked out, there was every

possibility of a success; but I fear I was the only one that thought so,

as it was fully twelve months before my senior would let me undertake

the venture; at last I got his consent, and in a very short time the

vessel was landed safely, and, I am pleased to say, did duty for over

ten years. It was while waiting for this consent that the beginning of

the events I am going to narrate took place.

Business was somewhat quiet in the Old Calabar, so our senior thought he

would go for a bit of an excursion to a place called Qua Iboe, which was

supposed to be a small tributary of the great river of Old Calabar, but

which he found to his astonishment was some twenty-five miles westward

of the mouth of the Old Calabar, and ninety miles from our main station

at Calabar; however, he did not like to return without seeing the place,

so he and his crew went, and after two or three days' journey, they

suddenly found themselves in the midst of breakers, and it was only by

luck they got washed into the mouth of the river Qua Iboe, half-dead

with fright, so much so that our senior would not venture back in the

boat, but preferred walking overland.

After being absent seven or eight days, he returned to headquarters with

a very lively recollection of what he had gone through. Not being

accustomed to the sea, the knocking about of the small boat very much

upset him, then the long overland journey back took all the pleasure out

of what he had intended to be a little holiday. Consequently, on his

return he had but little to say about the river he had gone to see; and

not being of a talkative disposition, had I not pressed him on the

subject, I think, as far as our establishment was concerned, the Qua

Iboe would have been a blank space on the map to-day, as many more fine

places are in that great continent.

So while we were at dinner, an evening or so after his return, feeling

very anxious to hear something about his excursion, I remarked that we

had not heard him say much about the new river. "No," said he; "for the

simple reason is that I know but very little about it, except that I

nearly got capsized in the breakers." "Well," I said, "is it a river of

any size? Would it not be a good place to open up a new business?" "Oh,

yes!" he said; "the river is a fair size, and it may or may not be a

good place for business. We can't go there, we have not the means; we

could not go without a vessel of some sort." "Well," said I, "would you

go if you could? Or, in other words, will you give me all the support I

need if I undertake to go?" "Yes, certainly," he said; "I shall be only

too pleased to give you anything we have here."

That night I got to work and laid out all my plans. First I had to find

a vessel. We had attached to our hulk a good large boat that would carry

about ten tons. This boat I soon got rigged up with mast and sails. This

done, I had a house constructed about sixty or seventy feet long by

twenty wide, made ready to be put up on whatever spot I should pitch

upon when I reached my new destination. This work, of course, took some

little time. However, the eighth day after I had my senior's consent to

go, I was sailing away from the Old Calabar, with my little craft and

sixteen people besides myself.

It took some four or five days to get to the long-looked-for Qua Iboe.

At last we were rewarded with a glimpse of the bar and its breakers,

which we had to pass before we could get into the river. We, however,

reached it safely, and with thankful hearts I can tell you, as our

journey had been anything but a pleasant one--so many of us in such a

small craft. I felt bound to take this number, as in addition to wanting

these people for the building of the establishment, I wished to make as

big a show as I could to the, at that time, unknown natives, who had

the reputation of being as bad a lot as were to be met with anywhere on

the West Coast. Anyhow, I thought they would have to be pretty bad if I

could not make something of them, so I sailed my boat flying up the

river to the first village, which was supposed to be the senior one in

the river, and was always called Big Town. It was just dusk when we

arrived. We dropped anchor, and decided to rest for the night; but I

found the villagers very excited, and not liking at all my advent among

them, as they had just had news from the up-country informing them that

if they allowed a white man to remain in their river, King Ja Ja, who

was the very terror not only of this place, but of some fifty or sixty

miles all round, had threatened to burn their towns down; he laying

claim to all this country, allowed no one to trade there but himself.

The advice I had from these people was that I had better go back and

leave them and their river to themselves. But I said, No, I am not going

back. I have come to open a trading station and to remain with you, and

that King Ja Ja, or any one else but our British Consul, would never

drive me from that river alive. I saw, though, it was useless taking any

notice of these frightened people, so I up anchor the next morning, and

sailed up the river; near the next village I saw a suitable spot for our

establishment. I at once anchored our boat, landed our people with house

and everything we had brought, put up a bit of a shanty to sleep under

for the time, and set to work to build our house; this, I may tell you,

did not take long, for by the end of the week we had a fine-looking

place up, such a one had never been seen in that part before. The house

complete, my next work was to get goods for the natives to buy from us.

This meant a journey for me.

Ten days after our first arrival, our house and store were up and built,

and I was away to the Old Calabar in our boat with some of my people to

get goods to start our trade with; the remainder stayed to put the

finishing touches to our building and to clear the land near.

I was soon back at my post again and trade started. After this I had to

make several journeys to keep our supply good, and all went well for

about three months, with the exception of continuous rumours as to what

King Ja Ja intended to do; these I took no notice of, as I did not

anticipate he would molest me or my people. However, my peaceful

occupation was not to last for long; for while I was away at Old Calabar

replenishing our stock, a day or two previous to my return King Ja Ja,

with about a thousand of his men, pounced down unexpectedly on these Qua

Iboe people, burnt down seven villages, took one hundred prisoners, and

drove the remainder of the population into the woods, cutting down every

plantain tree, and destroying everything in the way of food stuff that

was growing in the place. I arrived off the bar the day after this

terrible business had taken place. When I left the river I left twelve

of my people there. The head man had instructions that as soon as they

saw me off the bar, when the tide was right for me to come in, to hoist

a white flag.

The day I arrived, after waiting until I knew high water must have

passed, I took my glasses, but there was not a soul visible. Not caring

to risk our little vessel without the signal, I took a small boat we had

with us and started over the bar into the river. What my surprise was

you will readily understand when, arriving at the store, I found only

one man, half-dead with fright, and crying like a child; all I could get

out of him was that Ja Ja had been there and killed every one in the

place. The first thing I did was to at once return to the vessel, and

bring her in with the remainder of my people. We landed all our stores,

then I immediately hoisted our English ensign on the flag-staff. I

prayed to the Almighty to defend us and the country from the tyranny of

these dreadful men who had caused so much misery for these poor people.

Their wretchedness I was soon brought face to face with.

The morning after my arrival, if ever a man's heart was softened mine

was, and the tears came to my eyes when I saw crawling into the house

from the woods a poor, half-starved cripple child, covered with sores,

and in a dreadful state. We took it in at once and cared for it. Then I

sent my people into the woods to see if they chanced to come across any

one, and to tell them to come in under our flag, and I would see that no

harm again befell them. In this we were very successful, for one after

the other they arrived, more dead than alive, until some 700 of them

were in and around our house. The next thing to be thought about was

food for them. My last cargo fortunately was all rice and biscuits. This

relieved me somewhat, and I felt we could at least manage for a short

time.

To find food for such a great number gave me, as you may suppose,

serious thought, for there was not a scrap left in the district; the

land in this particular part being of a poor nature, the food grown at

the best of times was very small, and this little had all been

destroyed. But we had not to wait long before witnessing one of the

greatest blessings that could have happened. As soon as the men had

somewhat recovered from their fright, they began to go out into the

river to fish, when such quantities were caught that never in the

remembrance of any person in that country had such an amount of fish

been seen. Load after load was brought to the shore, in fact, some had

to spoil before it could be cured.

What did all this wonderful catch bring about? While a short time before

these people had been in the greatest poverty and distress, now they are

rejoicing and thankful for this abundance of food and wealth. I say

wealth because fish in this part of Africa is more precious than gold

with us. With fish anything can be bought in the market, from the

smallest article to the largest slave. So you see here was our relief

brought about by the ever bountiful Providence, whose all-seeing eye is

ever near those who are in want and need and ask His aid, whether it be

the poorest slave in Africa or the orphan child in England.

From this time we began to gather strength day by day. New arrivals came

in who had managed to get away to some place of safety until they felt

they could return to their native place with security.

As soon as Ja Ja and his men had destroyed the villages they returned to

their town of Opobo, with the hundred prisoners, the whole of whom they

massacred in cold blood, and exhibited to their townspeople, and, I am

sorry to say, to some Europeans, for days. While this fearful murdering

was going on twenty-five miles away from us I, with a few of the most

courageous Ibunos, or Qua Iboe people, made a tour of the principal

villages in the Ibuno country to let the inhabitants know of the deadly

onslaught that had been committed on the people at the mouth of the

river. They all swore to stand by us to a man, and to keep themselves

free from Ja Ja's tyrannical rule. After making this round we returned

to the mouth of the river and turned our attention to the defence of the

new villages that were about to be built.

A little accident occurred to us while leaving the last village, called

Ikoropata, that may be worth mentioning as a warning to others who might

be placed in a similar situation. We had just started after having a

long palaver with the chiefs, our men, about twenty, marching in single

file, I near the leading man. All at once I noticed he was carrying his

gun in a very alarming and unsuitable way. Had it gone off by accident,

which is not an unusual occurrence, the man behind him was bound to

receive the contents, with perhaps fatal results. Having stopped them

and explained the danger of carrying guns in this position, we started

off again, every man with his weapon to his shoulder. Strange to say, a

few minutes after the very man's gun I had noticed at first blew off

into the air with a tremendous report. Had this happened before, I fear

we might have had to take one of our comrades back more dead than alive.

The escape was a marvellous one, and not easily forgotten by any of us.

Now being back amongst our own people, we set about to get all the guns

we could together, and all able bodied men I told off for gun practice

and defence drill. This I carried on day after day, until we had quite a

little band of well-trained men. All this time we were continually

receiving rumours from the Opobo side as to what Ja Ja's next intentions

were, and to keep up the excitement he sent about 200 men as near the

mouth of the river as he dared. They settled themselves in a creek two

or three miles away from us, and here they used to amuse themselves by

letting off now and again a regular fusilade of guns. This generally

occurred in the middle of the night when every one but the watchmen had

gone to sleep, and had such an effect on the frightened Ibunos that

often two-thirds of them would rush off to the woods under the

impression that the Opobos were again making a raid upon them. This went

on for weeks, so much so that I was almost losing heart, and sometimes

thought I should never get confidence in the people. At last, to my

great surprise one evening in walked to my house the whole of the

chiefs, who had just held a meeting in the village and passed a law that

no person should again leave the town. They said they had come to tell

me they felt ashamed of themselves for running away so many times and

leaving me alone and unprotected in their country, and had decided to

leave me no more, but that every man should stand and die if needs be

for the defence of their towns. Whether Ja Ja's people heard of this

resolution I don't know, but they soon dropped their gun firing at

night, and eventually left their camping ground. Their next move was to

get into the Ibunos' markets, and worry them there. This I was

determined should not be done if I could help it. It was a long time

before there was any real disturbance, although I could see that the

Ibunos were daily getting more frightened that the Opobo people would

monopolise their markets, and in that case they knew there would be very

little chance for them.

At last news came down the river that the Opobos had that afternoon sent

a canoe to a market or town called Okot for the purpose of starting a

trade with the natives. Now Okot was at that time one of the best

markets the Ibunos had, and for them to be suddenly deprived of this

trading station would be a terrible calamity to us all. I did not know

what was to be done. The Ibunos would not go to the market to face the

Opobos, neither would they go further up the river for fear of being

molested by them. The only thing to do was to go myself and start a

station at the same place, and which would enable me to keep an eye on

their movements, so I at once made ready to start the same evening, and

by five o'clock next morning I landed at Okot, and found the Opobo canoe

there also, but like all Africans, time not being an object to them,

they had not gone to the king or the owner of the land at the landing

place. We did not wake the Opobos up on our arrival, but I immediately

started for the village, and at daylight walked into the presence of the

king of that part, who was so surprised to see a white man in his

village that it took him some time to believe his eyes. Poor old chap! I

fear he must have wished several times afterwards that he had never seen

a white man, for he was taken prisoner by the Government in 1896 or 1897

for insisting, I believe, in carrying out some human sacrifice at one of

the feast times, and died in prison. But to return to my mission. I soon

made him understand that I had come to start a trading station at his

beach, but before doing this I had to secure the land at the landing

place for the purpose. This he readily consented to, telling me at the

same time that although the land at that particular spot did not belong

to him he would instruct the owner of it to sell me all I wanted. So

after paying the usual compliments to the old king, I started back for

the landing place with the owner, who had already sold his right to me,

and was now only coming to show us the extent, which was the whole of

the land of any use on this spot. Just as we got back we found our

Opobo friends preparing to go to the village to see the king and also

get permission to build on this land, but their surprise on being told

by him that he had no land on the spot to give them I will leave you to

imagine. But the Opobos at that time took a lot of beating, and they

decided to build a house without getting the permission of any one, and

an iron roofed house too, which was considered by the natives then a

great thing. After the house had stood for some time, our consul being

in the river, we had the disputed land brought before him and thoroughly

discussed. After hearing evidence on both sides for two days, it was

decided that it belonged to us, and the Opobos were ordered to remove

their house. But before this settlement occurred we had a lot to contend

with from them. They did all in their power to debar us from keeping our

establishments open there, and for two or three years we had continual

trouble with them, occasionally firing at our people; luckily they

seldom hit any one. Then they tried competing with us in trading. This I

did not mind, as I considered it a fair means of testing who was who. Ja

Ja, I knew, was a very rich man, and if we attempted to follow them in

their extravagant prices we should soon be ruined. My policy was to let

them go ahead, which they did, paying almost twice as much for their

produce as we could possibly afford to pay. This lasted a great deal

longer than I anticipated, and I feel sure Ja Ja must have lost a deal

of money. After about twelve months of this reckless trading we were

left pretty much to ourselves at Okot, and being fairly well settled

down I began to look about for a good beach to start my next

establishment. I had not to look far. On the left bank of the river,

about two and a half miles down from Okot, was the landing beach of

Eket. Here there is a rising cliff about fifty feet high, and I had

often remarked when passing this spot, "If I were going to build a house

to live in here I should like to build it on this hill." The situation

was so good, as it was right in an elbow of the river, and from the top

of the hill you had a view of the river branching off both up and down

at right angles. An opportunity occurring for me to start a house at

Eket, I went and saw the people, who were very pleased for me to come

among them. So a little house was built, and a young coloured assistant

named William Sawyer placed in charge, who proved to be one of the best

men I ever had in the country. He needed to be, too, for the Ekets were

the most trying of any of the peoples we had to deal with. I never left

my stations for any length of time. Once or twice a week I visited them,

but no matter how short a time I was away there was always a grievance

to be settled at Eket. Poor Sawyer had a terrible time; the people had

an idea they could do as they liked with the factory keeper, and would

often walk off with the goods without paying for them, which Mr. Sawyer

naturally objected to, usually ending in a free fight, sometimes my

people coming off second best. The trade at that time at Eket was not

large, although it was a good one, and I did not want to give it up if

it could be helped. But my patience came to an end when I arrived upon

the scene one day and found Mr. Sawyer had been terribly handled the day

before. There had been a big row, and I could see by his face he had had

very much the worst of the fight. I felt I could not allow this any

longer, so summoned a meeting of all the chiefs and people. We had a

very large meeting, one of the largest I ever remember, and after

explaining to them my reason for calling them together, told them it was

my intention to close the little house and go to some people higher up

the river, who would be pleased for us to come among them, and would not

ill-use my people as the Ekets were doing, and showing them how badly

they had treated Mr. Sawyer, who had done nothing more than his duty in

trying to protect the property that was under his care, and which they

seemed to think they had a better right to than he. When they had heard

my complaint and warning to close the house, the old and ever respected

chief of all the Ekets rose to his feet. The people seeing this, there

was silence in a moment (which every one knows who has happened to have

been present at an African palaver is indeed a rarity), he being much

loved and reverenced in his own town. As soon as he started I felt we

were going to hear something worth hearing, and we did, for if ever

there was a born statesman this was one. He said, "We have heard with

sorrow of the way in which your people have been so ill-used by our

people, and it is a shame to us a stranger should be so treated who is

trying to do his best to bring business among us. Not only have you

brought a business to us, where we can come and exchange our produce for

our requirements, but you have opened our eyes to the light, as it were,

and we have no intention that you should leave us. You have been sent to

us by Abassy (which means God), and he will never let you leave us. Your

trade will grow in such a way that you will see here on this beach far

more trade than you will be able to cope with, so cast away from your

mind the thought of leaving us. The disturbances that have been going on

we will stop. It is not our wish that it has been so; it is the young

boys of the village who know no better. We will put a stop to it in

such a way that you will find your people from this time will have but

little to complain about." After such a speech you may be sure I gave up

all thought of leaving the Eket people, and I need scarcely tell you

that this same spot has become the centre of the whole of the trade of

this river. The words spoken by the venerable and, I believe, good old

chief came as true as the day. We did see often and often more trade

than we could cope with, and the establishment grew in such a way that

the natives themselves often used to wonder. I never had anything to do

with a more prosperous undertaking in Africa, and to-day there are few

establishments on the West Coast that can surpass it, either in its

quiet, steady trade or healthy climate. I used to say one could live as

long as they liked. On the hill there is a very fine house, with acres

and acres of good land at the back of it, while at the foot of the hill

are all the stores and the shop where the daily work and trade goes on

year in year out.

Several very remarkable incidents happened here. One evening, just as we

were going to dinner, a woman came and stood a little way from the

house. I could see that she was crying bitterly and evidently in great

distress. "What is the matter?" I said. "Affya (that is her brother) is

dying, and I want you to come and see him before it is too late." Now

Affya was one of the finest young fellows at Eket, and one whom I felt

would be a sad loss to a people who wanted so much leading and

governing, as it were. So I lost no time, but went off at once with the

woman to see if I could do anything. On our arrival at the house things

looked bad enough, and I feared the worst when I saw him laid out, as

every one there thought, for dead--the finest young fellow at Eket. I

fell on my knees by his side and prayed as earnestly as man could to

our Heavenly Father, and begged for this life to be spared to us. All at

once he moved as though suddenly aroused from sleep, and in a moment I

had him up and on the back of one of my boys, and away to Eket House as

fast as possible, and laid him on the verandah to sleep and rest free

from the close and stuffy hut he had been in before. After a little

nourishment he slept all night. I kept watch near him, and next morning

what was my surprise when he told me he was feeling quite strong and

able to walk back to the village. This I allowed him to do after the sun

had got well high, as I could plainly see the lad was out of all danger.

Should these lines ever get into the hands of that lad, for lad he will

always be to me, I feel very sure he will say, "Yes, this wonderful

returning to life did indeed happen to me, Affya, son of Uso, at Eket,

at the village of Usoniyong, in the month of July, 1892." This is one of

the many incidents that occurred whilst I was in charge at Eket and the

Qua Iboe River. Another evening, just after dinner, my steward came to

me saying there was a rat under the house (our house stood on iron

columns). "A rat," I said; "what do you mean?" "Well, a small woman."

"Go and bring her up; do not be afraid." He looked at me as much as to

say you will be afraid when I do bring her up. Presently he appeared

with a child in his arms, such a sight I never shall forget--almost

starved to death, and covered with marks where she had been burnt with

fire-sticks. This poor little thing, after wandering many days in the

wood, at last found her way to our house. She was too ill to have

anything done to her that evening, so I had a bed made for her in the

sitting-room, close to my door, so that I could hear should she get

frightened in the night. The little thing woke up many times, but was

soon off to sleep again when I had patted and spoken to it. The next day

we had her seen to, the steward boy set about and made her some dresses,

and after a warm bath and plenty of food, in a few days the little girl

was the life of our house. The poor little thing had been left without

father or mother, and had become dependent upon an uncle, or some other

relative, who had ill-used her in such a terrible manner that he had

left her for dead. How she ever found strength to get to our house was

almost a mystery.

After being with us for twelve months, some other relatives laid claim

to her, and as I was just leaving for England, I allowed them to take

her, but not without making four or five of the principal chiefs

responsible for her welfare. She will now be a grown woman, but will

look back upon those happy months with pleasure, I feel sure.

Another incident may be of interest--quite a change of scene--showing

you how you may be as kind and as good to a people as it is possible to

be, yet you must always be ready to defend yourself at a moment's

notice, which will be seen from the following circumstances. We had been

troubled for some time past with night robberies, not very serious at

first, but they became more frequent than I cared about. I gave the

matter serious attention, but we could not trace the thieves, do what we

would; the strange thing was, that as soon as a robbery had been

committed, a native, a sort of half slave, was sure to be seen about the

beach putting on what seemed to me a sort of bravado manner; but, of

course, he never knew anything about the people who had been tampering

with the premises, and he always appeared to be surprised to think that

any one should do such a thing, but at last matters came to a climax;

our plantain trees had been cut down, and a whole lot of fine plantains

stolen, as well as a lot of wire fencing. I was vexed to the extreme

when this dastardly work was brought to my notice. But what was my

surprise, no sooner had my lad reported the matter to me, when along

walked the very man I have just described, looking as bold as brass.

Said I to myself, "If you have not done this stealing you know something

about it, and you will have to give an account of your movements before

you leave these premises." So I sent orders to have him immediately put

under arrest, which was done, and he was given to understand that until

the thieves, whoever they were, had been brought to justice, he would

have to remain under arrest.

This was an unexpected blow for my friend, but he proved one too many

for my people. He managed to get the best side of his keeper, and

slipped; next morning we had no prisoner, the bird had flown. I knew he

would work no good for us in the villages, neither did he; he went from

village to village, right through the Eket country, telling the people

the most dreadful things, and the most abominable lies, of what had been

done to him the short time he was our prisoner; so much so, that he got

the people quite furious against me and my people. Just as an agitator

will work up strife in England if he is not checked, so it was with this

man; he got every village to declare war against me. This went on for

three or four days, until he got them all to concentrate themselves.

They were all brought one night to within a quarter of a mile of our

establishment; here they had their war dances all night, yet I did not

think there was any likelihood of their attacking us. Still, for a

couple of days things did not appear right, the people seemed strange in

their manner; so I thought it not wise to be caught napping, and I made

some preparations for an attack if we were to have one, and had the

Gatling gun placed in position at the rear of the house. This I felt was

quite enough to defend the house, if I could but get a fair chance to

use it, although I was in hope I should not be called upon to do so.

We had not long to wait, for at 5.30 in the morning after a continuous

beating of drums all night, I got up and walked out on the verandah,

which was my usual custom, not thinking we were going to be attacked,

but when I looked round, the wood and bush seemed to be alive with

people, and some of them were already advancing towards the house, while

one chief, more daring than the others, came on near enough for me to

speak to him. Seeing this unexpected development of affairs, and the

suspicious look of my friend near at hand, I called to my boy, who was

near, to bring my revolver, and no sooner had the chief got within

twenty paces or so of the house, when I called upon him to stop and tell

me what was their mission so early in the morning. He said they had come

to talk over the matter of the man I had imprisoned. But I said this is

not the time of day we usually talk over matters we may have in

dispute--the afternoon being always the recognised time. "Yes," said my

friend, "but we want to settle matters now." "All right," I said, and

with that I held my revolver at his head, and ordered him to stand, and

not move an inch, or I would shoot him dead on the spot. The people at

the back, seeing what was taking place, began to move towards the

house. I said to my boy, "run to the beach and tell Mr. Sawyer to come

up." This was my coloured assistant, whom I knew I could trust. The lad

was away, and Mr. Sawyer at my side before the people had got too near.

"What am I to do, sir?" "Take this revolver and hold it to that man's

head, whilst I jump to the Gatling; if he moves, shoot him down." There

was not half a move in him, and in a moment I was at the Gatling. By

this time there was a general move forward from all parts of the bush,

but no sooner did this black mass see I was at the gun, and determined

to fight or die, quicker than I can write these words, I saw the whole

body fall back in dismay. There was my opportunity. I jumped from the

Gatling, went straight to the people, and demanded of them what they

wanted to do. Their answer was--"We don't know; we are a lot of fools,

and we have lost our heads; send us back, we have no business to come to

fight against you, and we don't want to."

By seven o'clock that morning the trade was going on in our

establishment as though nothing had happened. This little incident I

have always described as a bloodless battle, won in a few moments; yes,

in almost less time than it has taken me to write its description. This

matter we finally settled, after holding a large meeting with all the

chiefs and people. The laws of these people are very definite; you must

have absolute proof of a person's guilt, before you can even accuse him.

I had to sit as judge over my own case, which was rather an unfair

position for one to be placed in. But as the laws are definite it was

simple enough to decide. The question was--"Had I any proof that this

man was one of the thieves, or in any way connected with the affair?" I

had not; my evidence was purely suppositional. This ended the matter. I

was in the wrong, therefore I had no alternative but to put a fine upon

myself, which I did, and was very pleased to end what had nearly cost me

my life, and probably also a number of my people. After this affairs

went on merrily at Eket.