For several weeks after this we wandered about in the woods searching for gorillas. We were very successful, and shot so many that I had the satisfaction of making elaborate notes of specimens of nearly all ages and kinds.
But an event was looming in the future which we little thought of, and which ultimately compelled us to abandon the gorilla country and retrace our steps towards the southern part of the continent.
One day we set out, as was our wont, to hunt for gorillas, accompanied only by our faithful follower Makarooroo. It chanced to be a lovely day, and the country through which we were passing was exceedingly beautiful, so that we found more pleasure at that time in conversing together on the beauties of nature and on the wonderful works of nature’s God than in contemplating our chances of falling in with game.
“It’s a splendid country,” said Jack, as we walked along under the shade of some magnificent ebony trees. “I wish that it were inhabited by a Christian people. Perhaps this may be the case one of these days, but I don’t think we shall live to see it.”
“There’s no saying, Jack,” observed Peterkin. “Does not the Bible speak of a ‘nation being born in a day?’ Of course that must be figurative language; nevertheless it must mean something, and I incline to think that it means that there shall be a time when men shall flock rapidly, and in unusually great numbers, to the Saviour.”
“It may be so,” observed I, “but I have made up my mind on this point, that Christian people are not sufficiently awake to the terrible condition of the natives of countries such as this, or to the fact that they have much in their power to do for the amelioration of both their temporal and spiritual welfare. I, for one, will, if spared to return home, contribute more largely than I have been wont to do to the cause of missions.”
“Talking of that,” said Peterkin, “do you think it right to support the missions of other churches besides your own?”
“Do I think it right?” I exclaimed in surprise. “Of course I do. I think it one of the greatest evils that can befall a Christian, that he should become so narrow-minded as to give only to his own church, and think only of his own church’s missions. Why, surely a soul saved, if a matter of rejoicing in heaven, ought to be a matter of joy on earth, without reference to the particular church which was the instrument used by the Holy Spirit for that end. I feel very strongly that all Christians who love our Saviour with deep sincerity must of necessity have a warm feeling towards His people in all churches. At any rate we ought to cultivate such a feeling.”
“Who can these be?” cried Jack, stopping and pointing to some figures that appeared to be approaching us in the distance.
“They are negroes, at any rate,” said I; “for they seem to be black, and are evidently naked.”
“Warriors, too, if I mistake not. They have not yet observed us. Shall we hide and let them pass?”
Jack hesitated a moment, then leaping behind a bush, cried—
“Ay, ’tis well to be cautious when nothing is to be gained by daring. These fellows outnumber us, and war-parties are not to be trusted—at least not if these of Africa resemble those of North America.”
“Hollo! there’s a white man with them,” cried Peterkin, as he peeped over the bushes behind which we were hid.
“You don’t say so, eh? So there is. Come; we have nothing to fear from the party of a traveller.—What, Mak, you shake your head! What mean you?”
Makarooroo increased the shaking of his head, and said, “Me no know dat, massa. P’raps hab more to fear dan you tink.”
“Oh, stuff! come along. Why, Mak, it seems as if gorilla-hunting had failed to improve your courage.”
As Jack said this he stepped out from among the bushes and advanced to meet the strangers. Of course we all followed, and although we carried our rifles in a careless manner, as if we expected no evil, yet we held ourselves in readiness to take instant action if necessary.
The moment the negroes perceived us, they set up a great shout and brandished their spears and guns, but the voice of their leader was instantly heard commanding them to halt. They obeyed at once, and the European stranger advanced alone to meet us. As he drew near we observed that he was a splendid-looking man, nearly as large as Jack himself, with a handsome figure and a free, off-hand gait. But on coming closer we saw that his countenance, though handsome, wore a forbidding, stern expression.
“Dat am a slabe-dealer,” whispered our guide, as the stranger came up and saluted us in French.
Jack replied in the same language; but on learning that we were Englishmen, he began to talk in our own tongue, although he evidently understood very little of it.
“Do you travel alone with the natives?” inquired Jack, after a few preliminary remarks.
“Yaas, sair, I doos,” replied the stranger, who was a Portuguese trader, according to his own account.
“You seem to carry little or no merchandise with you,” said Jack, glancing towards the party of natives, who stood at some distance looking at us and conversing together eagerly.
“I has none wis me, true, bot I has moche not ver’ far off. I bees go just now to seek for ivory, and ebony, and sl–a–— w’at you call him? barwood.”
The man corrected himself quickly, but the slip confirmed Makarooroo’s remark and our own suspicions that he was a slave-dealer.
“De day is far gone,” he continued, putting as amiable a smile on his countenance as possible; “perhaps you vill stop and we have dine togedder.”
Although we did not much like the appearance of our new friend or his party, we felt that it would be uncourteous in so wild a country, where we had so few chances of meeting with white faces, to refuse, so we agreed. A camp-fire was speedily kindled, and the two parties mingled together, and sat down amicably to discuss roast monkey and venison steaks together.
During the course of the meal the Portuguese trader became so communicative and agreeable that we all began to think we had judged him harshly. We observed, too, that Makarooroo and the negroes had fraternised heartily, and our guide was singing and laughing, and making himself agreeable at a very uncommon rate, so much so as to call forth our surprise.
“Mak seems to be mad to-day,” observed Peterkin, as one of our guide’s jovial laughs rang through the wood and was echoed by his new acquaintances.
“Bees him not always so?” inquired the Portuguese.
“He’s always hearty enough,” replied Jack, “but I must confess I never saw him in such high spirits as he seems to be in just now. It must be the effect of meeting with new faces, I suppose.”
“Ah! s’pose so,” remarked the trader.
I was struck with the manner in which this was said. There was a tone of affected indifference, such as one assumes when making a passing remark, but at the same time a dark frown rested for one moment on his brow, and he cast a piercing vindictive glance at our guide. Next moment he was smiling blandly and making some humorous remark to Peterkin.
I looked at my companions, but they had evidently not observed this little piece of by-play. It seemed to me so unaccountable, considering that the two men had never met before, that I resolved to watch them. I soon observed that Makarooroo’s mirth was forced, that he was in fact acting a part, and I noticed once or twice that he also cast an occasional stealthy and piercing glance at the Portuguese. It afterwards turned out that both men had been acting the same part, and that each had suspected what the other was doing.
When our meal was concluded we prepared to resume our separate routes.
“I goes to de west,” observed the Portuguese, in a casual way, as he buckled on the belt that supported his hunting-knife.
“Indeed! I had understood you to say that you were going south.”
“No; you not have onderstand me. I goes to de west, ver’ long way.”
“Then, sir, I wish you a safe and pleasant journey,” said Jack, lifting his cap.
“De same to you, sairs, an’ goot plenty of gorillas to you. Farder nord dey be more plenty. Adieu!”
We took off our caps to each other, and saying farewell, we turned away, and soon lost sight of the party.
“Ho! de yaller-faced villain,” exclaimed Makarooroo between his clinched teeth, after we were out of earshot.
“Why, what’s wrong, Mak?” inquired Peterkin, in great surprise.
“Ho! noting porteekler,” replied the guide, with an air and tone of sarcasm that quite amused us. “Hims not go sout’, ho no! hims go west, ho yis! Hims advise us to go nort’, ho dear! dat bery clibber, bery mush clibber; but we is clibberer, we is, ho! ho! ho!”
Our worthy guide looked so terribly fierce as he uttered this fiendish laugh, that we all came to a stand and gazed at him in surprise; we fancied that something must have deranged his mind.
“Mak,” said Peterkin, “you are mad. What mean you by such grimaces?”
Pursing his lips tightly, and looking at each of us for a few moments in silence, he finally crossed his arms on his chest, and turning eagerly to Jack, said with extreme volubility—
“Dat rascal! dat tief! Him’s no trader, him’s slabe-dealer; hims no go west, hims go south; an’ w’at for hims go? W’at for hims carry guns so many, eh? Hims go” (here the guide dropped his voice into a whisper of intense bitterness)—“hims go for attack village an’ take all peepils away for be slabes. No pay for ’em—tief!—take dem by force.”
“Why, how did you come to know all this,” said Jack, “or rather to suspect it? for you cannot be sure that you are right.”
“W’at, no can be sure me right? ho, yis, me sartin sure. Me bery clibber. Stop, now. Did him—dat tief!—speak bery mush?”
“Certainly he did, a good deal.”
“Yis, ho! An’ did him make you speak bery mush?”
“I rather think he did,” replied Peterkin, laughing at our guide’s eagerness.
“Yis, ho! hims did. An’ did him ax you plenty question, all ’bout where you go, an’ where you come from, an’ de way back to village where we be come from? An’ did hims say, when him find you was come from sout, dat hims was go west, though before dat hims hab say dat hims be go sout, eh?”
“Certainly,” said Jack, with a thoughtful look, “he did say all that, and a great deal more to that effect.”
“Yis, ho! hims did. Me know bery well. Me see him. An’ me also dood to de niggers what hims do to you. Me talk an’ laugh an’ sing, den me ax dem questions. But dey bery wise; dey no speak mush, but dey manage to speak ’nuff for me. Yis, me bam—bam—eh?”
“Boozle,” suggested Peterkin.
“Vis, bamboozle dem altogidder, ho! ho!”
After a little further explanation we found that this Portuguese trader was a man-stealer, on his way to one of the smaller villages, with the intention of attacking it. Makarooroo ascertained that they meant to proceed direct to that of King Jambai, first, however, getting one of the neighbouring tribes to pick a quarrel with that monarch and go to war with him; and we now recollected, with deep regret, that in our ignorance of what the Portuguese was, we had given him a great deal of information regarding the village of our late hospitable entertainer which might prove very useful to him, and very hurtful to poor King Jambai, in the event of such a raid being carried out.
But, in addition to this, Makarooroo had ascertained that it was possible that, before going to King Jambai’s village, they might perhaps make a descent on that of our friend Mbango, with whom we had left poor Okandaga. It was this that raised the wrath of our guide to such a pitch.
The instant we heard it Jack said—
“Then that settles the question of our future proceedings. We must bid adieu to the gorillas at once, and dog the steps of this marauding party, so as to prevent our good friends Mbango and Jambai being surprised and carried into slavery along with all their people. It seems to me that our path is clear in this matter. Even if we were not bound in honour to succour those who have treated us hospitably, we ought to do our best to undo the evil we have done in telling their enemies so much about them. Besides, we must save Okandaga, whatever happens. What say you, comrades?”
“Of course we must,” said Peterkin. I also heartily concurred.
“You’s a good man,” said Makarooroo, his eyes glistening with emotion.
“If I did not stand by you at such a time as this,” replied Jack, smiling, “I should certainly be a very bad man.”
“But what are we to do about our goods?” inquired I, “We cannot hope to keep up with these robbers if we carry our goods with us; and yet it seems hard to leave them behind, for we should fare ill, I fear, in this country if we travel as beggars.”
“We shall easily manage as to that,” replied Jack. “I have observed that one of our niggers is a sensible, and, I am disposed to think, a trustworthy fellow—”
“D’you mean the man with the blind eye and the thumping big nose?” inquired Peterkin.
“The same. Well, I shall put him in charge, and tell him to follow us to Mbango’s village; then we four shall start off light, and hunt our way south, travelling as fast as we can, and carrying as many strings of beads, by way of small change, as we can stuff into our pockets and fasten about our persons.”
“The very thing,” cried Peterkin. “So let’s put it in practice at once.”
“Ay, this very night,” said Jack, as we hurried back to the spot where our goods had been left.
As we went along in silence I noticed that Peterkin sighed once or twice very heavily, and I asked him if he was quite well.
“Well? Ay, well enough in body, Ralph, but ill at ease in mind. How can it be otherwise when we are thus suddenly and unexpectedly about to take leave of our dear friends the gorillas? I declare my heart is fit to break.”
“I sympathise with you, Peterkin,” said I, “for I have not yet made nearly as many notes in regard to these monster-monkeys as I could have wished. However, I am thankful for what I have got, and perhaps we may come back here again one of these days.”
“What bloodthirsty fellows!” cried Jack, laughing. “If you talk so, I fear that Mak and I shall have to cut your acquaintance; for, you see, he and I have got a little feeling left.”
“Well, it’s natural, I fancy,” observed Peterkin, “that gorillas should feel for their kindred. However, I console myself with the thought that the country farther south is much better filled with other game, although the great puggy is not there. And then we shall come among lions again, which we can never find, I believe, in the gorilla country. I wonder if the gorilla has really driven them out of this part of Africa.”
“Some think it probable,” observed I, “but we cannot make sure of that point.”
“Well, we can at all events make sure of this point,” cried Peterkin, as we came in sight of our encampment, “that lions are thick enough in the country whither we are bound; so let’s have a good supper, and hurrah for the south! It’s a bright prospect before us. A fair lady to be saved; possibly a fight with the niggers, and lion, elephant, rhinoceros, alligator, hippopotamus, and buffalo shooting by way of relaxation in the intervals of the war!”
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