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CHAPTER XIX

RUMORS OF WAR. – THROUGH A BURNING PRAIRIE. – IMMINENT PERIL. – NARROW ESCAPE FROM A HORRIBLE DEATH. – A LONELY NIGHT-WATCH

War began to loom up as we reached the southeast end of the Matimbié irimba. We came to a village called Dilolo, the path we were following leading directly to it, and as we approached we found that the place had been barricaded, and that it was guarded outside by all its fighting men. On the path charms had been placed, to frighten away the Aponos. The men were armed with spears, bows and arrows, and sabres. When we came near earshot, having left the path with the intention of passing by the side of the village, they vented bitter curses against Nchiengain for bringing the Oguizi into their country – "the Oguizi who comes with the eviva (plague) into villages," they shouted. "Do not come near us; do not try to enter our village, for there will be war!" The war-drums were beaten, and the men advanced and retired before us, spear in hand, as if to drive us away, for they thought we had come too near. We marched forward, nevertheless. So long as the Apono porters did not show the white feather, I felt safe; they also had their spears and their bows, and my men held their guns in readiness. Suddenly fires appeared in different parts of the prairie. The people of Dilolo had set fire to the grass, hoping that we might perish in the flames. The fire spread with fearful rapidity, but we soon came to a place where our path made a turn by the village, and we reached the rear of the place. At that moment we observed a body of villagers moving in our direction, evidently intending to stop our progress. Presently two poisoned arrows were shot at us. I thought we were going to have a fight, but ordered my men to keep cool, and not to fire. Nchiengain walked all along the line to cheer up his men, and shouted that "Nchiengain's people were not afraid of war," but at the same time he begged me not to fire a gun unless some of our people were hit with the arrows.

We continued our march, keeping close together, so that we might help each other in case of need. My men were outside the path, between Nchiengain and the Dilolo people, with their guns ready to fire when I gave the word. The villagers, mistaking our forbearance for fear, became bolder, and the affair was coming to a crisis. A warrior, uttering a fierce cry of battle, came toward us, and, with his bow bent, stood a few yards in front of Rapelina, threatening to take his life. I could see the poison on the barbed arrow. My eyes were fixed upon the fellow, and I felt very much like sending a bullet through his head. Plucky Rapelina faced his enemy boldly, and, looking him fiercely in the face, uttered the war cry of the Commi, and, lowering the muzzle of his gun, advanced two steps, and shouted in the Apono language that if the Dilolo did not put down his bow he would be a dead man before he could utter another word. By this time all my Commi men had come up, with the muzzle of their guns pointing toward the Dilolo, awaiting my order to fire. The bow fell from the warrior's hand, and he retreated.

Nchiengain behaved splendidly. He began to curse the Dilolo people, and said to them, "You will hear of me one of these days;" and my Aponos threw down their loads and got ready to fight.

"Let us hurry," I said to the men; "don't you see the country is getting into a blaze of fire? We must get out of it."

I fired a gun after we had passed the village, and the inhabitants were terrified at the noise. Nchiengain was furious, and again shouted to the enemy, "You will see that I am not a boy, and that my name is Nchiengain!"

The discomfited warriors of Dilolo gradually left us, probably thinking that the fire, so rapidly spreading, would do the work they could not perform; and, indeed, while we had escaped a conflict through our good common sense, we were now exposed to a far greater danger. The fire was gaining fearfully. The whole country seemed to be in a blaze. Happily, the wind blew from the direction in which we were going; still the flames were fast encircling us, and there was but one break in the circuit it was making. I shouted, "Hurry, boys! hurry! for if we do not get there in time, we shall have to go back, and then we must fight, for we will have to get into the village of Dilolo." So we pressed forward with the utmost speed, and finally our road lay between two walls of fire, but the prairie was clear of flames ahead. Although the walls of fire were far apart, they were gaining upon us. "Hurry on, boys!" I exclaimed; "hurry on!" We walked faster and faster, for the smoke was beginning to reach us. The fire roared as it went through the grass, and left nothing but the blackened ground behind it. We began to feel the heat. The clear space was getting narrower and narrower. I turned to look behind, and saw the people of Dilolo watching us. Things were looking badly. Were we going to be burned to death? Again looking back toward Dilolo, I saw that the fires had united, and that the whole country lying between ourselves and Dilolo was a sheet of flame.

Onward we sped, Nchiengain exhorting his men to hurry. We breathed the hot air, but happily there was still an open space ahead. We came near it, and felt relieved. At last we reached it, and a wild shout from Nchiengain, the Aponos, and my Commi rent the air. We were saved, but nearly exhausted.

I said to my Commi men, "Are we not men? There is no coming back after this! Boys, onward to the River Nile!" They all shouted in reply, "We must go forward; we are going to the white man's country."

Between four and five o'clock we came to another wood, in the midst of which was a cool spring of water. We encamped there for the night, and not far in the distance on the prairie we could see the smoke coming out of a cluster of Apono villages. They dreaded our approach. In the silence of the twilight, the wind from the mountains brought to us the cries of the people. We could hear the shrieks and the weeping of the women, and the beating of the war-drums. Afterward the people came within speaking distance, and shouted to us, "Oh, Nchiengain, why have you brought this curse upon us? We do not want the Oguizi in our country, who brings the plague with him. We do not want to see the Ibamba. The Ishogo are all dead; the Ashango have all left; there is nothing but trees in the forest. Go back! go back!" They yelled and shouted till about ten o'clock, and then all became silent, and soon afterward my people were asleep by the fires which they had lighted. They all suffered from sore feet. Igala, Mouitchi, and Rapelina were to keep watch with me, while my other Commi men were resting; but they, too, after a while, went to sleep. Even our poor dogs were tired, and were also sound asleep.

I stood all alone, watching over the whole camp, so anxious that I could not sleep. Things did look dark indeed. A most terrible dread of me had taken possession of the people. Something had to be done to allay their fears, or my journey would come to an end.

How quiet every thing was! The rippling of the water coming from the little brook sounded strangely in the midst of the silent night. I looked at the strange scene around me. Each of my men had his gun upon his arm, but I thought of how useless the weapons would be in the hands of men so weary, and sunk in deep sleep. If, that night, any one of you could have been there, you would have seen Paul Du Chaillu leave the camp and the woods, and then have seen him all alone upon the prairie, standing like a statue, no one by him, his gun in one hand, his revolvers hung by his side. The stars shone beautifully above his head, as if to cheer him in his loneliness, for lonely and sad enough he felt. Then, with an anxious feeling, he looked through his spy-glass in the direction of the Apono villages to see if any thing was going on there. No. All there, too, was silent as death.

At three o'clock in the morning I awakened Igala and some of my Commi boys, and told them to keep watch while I tried to get a little sleep.

CHAPTER XX

A DEPUTATION FROM THE VILLAGE. – A PLAIN TALK WITH THEM. – A BEAUTIFUL AND PROSPEROUS TOWN. – CHEERFUL CHARACTER OF THE PEOPLE. – MORE OBSERVATIONS

Before daylight I arose, and again went out upon the prairie, but saw no one there from the Apono villages, and heard no war-drumming. After a while a deputation of three men came from the village to Nchiengain, and said, "Why have you brought this Oguizi to us? He will give us the eviva."

"No," said Nchiengain; "months ago the eviva was in the country. I myself got it; people died of it, and others got over it. The eviva has worked where it pleased, and gone where it pleased, and that when the Spirit had never made his appearance. He has nothing to do with the eviva. Go and tell your people that Nchiengain said so, and that the Spirit has only been a few days in our country." The men went off without seeing me, for Nchiengain was afraid they might be frightened.

Toward ten o'clock Nchiengain and Mayolo were sent for, and, a short time after they had gone, some of Nchiengain's people came for me, saying that the Aponos wanted to see me, and that Nchiengain was talking to them; so, followed by all my Commi men, armed to the teeth, I started. We left the wood and entered the beautiful prairie, and soon I saw Nchiengain standing up, and by him, seated in rows upon the ground in a semicircle, were several hundreds of Aponos. As I approached they began to move backward, each row trying to hide behind the other. Then Nchiengain said, "Do not be afraid," and they stopped.

Nchiengain said to me, in a loud voice, so that every one could hear, "The Aponos sent for me this morning to ask me to tell you to come out of that wood. They want to see you, the great Spirit. Then they want you to go on the top of that hill" (pointing to it), "and stay there three days, so that the people may come and look at you, and bring you food."

"No," said I, in a loud voice, "no, I shall not go on the top of that hill. I am angry with the Apono people, for they curse me by saying that I bring the eviva with me. Has not the eviva been here long? Did not the people die of it long before they ever heard of me?"

"Rovano! Rovano!" ("That is so!") shouted the Aponos.

"Aponos," I resumed, "do not be frightened; I will make you hear a noise you never heard before," and I ordered my men to discharge their guns. The Apono chiefs stood by me, and I said to them, "Do not be afraid." Nevertheless, a good many of the people fled. The chiefs did not move. Then, putting beads around their necks, I said to them, "Go away in peace; the Spirit loves the Aponos." The people departed, and I went back into the wood, for the heat was intense on the prairie.

In the afternoon the Aponos became emboldened, and hundreds of them came to get a look at me, taking care not to come too near. Presents of goats, fowls, ground-nuts, sugar-cane, and plantains were sent to me. Afterward a deputation came to ask me to leave the wood, and to come to a wood nearer their villages, which I did. Then the different chiefs of the adjacent Apono villages begged me to become their guest, and to remain in their villages.

After consultation with Nchiengain, it was arranged that we were to go to a village called Mokaba, and accordingly we left our encampment, and were received in the midst of the most intense excitement by the villagers, who exclaimed, "The Spirit is coming!" How frightened they seemed to be!

The chief came and walked around me, fanning me with a fan made of the ear of an elephant, and saying, "Oguizi, do not be angry with me; Oguizi, do not be angry with me. Oguizi, I never saw thee before; I am afraid of thee. I will give thee food; I will give thee all I have!"

That night the village of Mokaba was as silent as the grave. The next morning immense crowds of Aponos came to see me. The noise was perfectly deafening. The people hid themselves behind the trees, in the tall grass around the villages, and behind the huts, or wherever they could see me without being seen by me. If perchance I cast my eyes upon one of them, he ran away as fast as his legs could carry him.

I spent the evening in making a great number of astronomical observations. The Aponos, when they saw me do this, were seized with fear, and the next morning they came to ask me to go back into the wood, promising that they would bring food to me. I refused, saying, "I was in the wood, and you told me to come to Mokaba; and now that I am here, you ask me to go back into the wood. I will not go. Do not be afraid; I am not an evil spirit. I love to look at the stars and at the moon."

The chief of Mokaba, named Kombila, seemed to be a nice fellow, of medium height, black as jet, with several huge scars of sabre wounds on his back and arms, showing that he was a great fighter, I liked him very much.

The village of Mokaba was beautiful. It was situated on a hill in the prairie, just at the foot of the woody mountains which form a part of the immense equatorial range. From the mountains came a stream of clear water, which ran at the foot of the hill upon which Mokaba was built. The mountains in the background seemed to be very high, and the country was picturesque. The village was not large, but its houses were nice, and each family possessed a square yard, around which the dwellings were built. The whole place was adorned with three squares, in the midst of which grew many gigantic palm-trees. Back of the village there were also great numbers of palm-trees, which were planted by the parents of the present inhabitants. Goats and chickens were abundant. The plantain, however, is the food of the country, and the hills surrounding Mokaba were covered with plantain groves. Handsome lime-trees, covered with little yellow blossoms, were also to be seen every where.

The grass of the prairie was yellow and tall, and reminded me of the wheat-fields at home when ready for the scythe. Each of the palm-trees around the village, grown from seeds planted by the people, had its owner. The palm is a precious tree, for each man draws from it his palm wine, and makes oil from the nuts, which, when they are ripe, are of a beautiful rich dark yellow color.

There was an atmosphere of comfort about Mokaba, and the whole country adjacent to it, which did my heart good. The Mokabans are a jolly people when they do not fight with their neighbors. They are fond of dancing, and the ocuya is one of the principal amusements. This is a queer pastime, and I will try to describe it for you.

One day, while I was quietly seated with Kombila, I heard at the end of the village a great noise, caused by loud singing, and immediately afterward saw a crowd of people walking backward, beating their hands and singing, with their bodies bent almost double, and all shouting, dancing, and singing at the same time. Then I saw a tall figure suddenly emerge from behind a house and come into the street, and Kombila exclaimed, "The ocuya! the ocuya!"

The tall figure seemed to be about twelve feet in height. It wore a long dress made of grass-cloth, and reaching nearly to the ground. The creature's face was covered with a white mask painted with ochre. The lips of the mask appeared to be open, showing that the two upper and middle incisor teeth were wanting. The funniest part of the costume was that the mask had a head-dress, looking for all the world like a lady's bonnet, made of a monkey's skin, with the tail hanging on the back, while the part of the bonnet around the face was surrounded with feathers. The figure was a man on stilts.

But troubles and cares again came to destroy the enjoyment I had in their lively village. Mayolo fell ill once more, and grew worse so rapidly that his people determined to take him back to his village. A litter was made on which to carry him. But his own people said he had become jealous, and did not want any of them to get my fine things; he wanted them all for himself.

The party left early in the morning. In the afternoon news came that the chief of the village of Dilolo had died that day. Fortunately, the people of Mokaba did not like him, and they shouted with joy when they heard the news. He wanted war when he tried to prevent the Oguizi and his people from passing, and if war had come at that time he would have been killed. They all shouted, "He had aniemba, and aniemba has killed him! He will give us no more trouble; he will prevent no more people from coming to us! He will not stop the people who come to sell us salt!"

Two days after the departure of Mayolo, some of the Otandos, with some of the Mouendi people, came back to Mokaba. They came for Nchiengain. He was wanted. I never learned the reason. No doubt his people were afraid to leave him longer with me. Mayolo's life was now despaired of, and the Otando people told me slyly that they had mpoga-oganga, and that the oganga had said that the Nchiengain people had put things in the palm wine Mayolo drank in order to kill him.

Nchiengain came to me with a frightened air to tell me he had to go. He seemed to be afraid of me. I believe he thought I was going to kill him, as I had killed Remandji, Olenda, and Mayolo, and that now his turn had come. I said to him, "We are great friends. Make a good speech to the Apono for me, and I will give you such nice presents!" He promised to do it.

So all the Mokaba people were called. Nchiengain came out, and made a great speech. He said, "Kombila and Mokaba people, let the people who are to go with the Spirit come before me." They came and seated themselves on the ground, and I then gave to each a present, or his pay in goods, beads, trinkets. Then Nchiengain said, "Kombila, the Oguizi was brought to me by Mayolo, and before he reached Mayolo's village he passed through many countries of the black man. Now I leave him in your hands; pass him to the Ishogos. Then, when you leave him with the Ishogos, tell them they must take him to the Ashongos. After you leave him with the Ishogos your hands will be cleared, for you will have passed him over your tribe and clans. I am going; I leave him in your hands!" They all shouted, "We will take the Oguizi to the Ishogos! we will start the day the Oguizi wishes to start! We are men! the Mokaba people are men!"

Then Nchiengain added, "Wherever he goes, let the people give him plenty of goats, fowls, plantains, and game!" There was a great shout of "Rovana!" – "That is so! that is so!" "Do not be afraid of him," shouted Nchiengain; "see how well he has treated us! At first we were afraid of him; after a while our fears ceased. He will treat you just the same. He paid us when we left the village, and when we leave he gives us a parting present. Take him away to-morrow. Start for the country of the Ishogos. Hurry, for he does not want to tarry."

Then, in the presence of the people, he returned to me the brass kettle I had lent him for cooking his food, and the plate I had given him, and said to me, "Oguizi, good-by! I have not mpouguiza (slighted) you; I go because I must go." As he disappeared behind the palm-trees he shouted again, "Oguizi, I have not mpouguiza you!" I answered, "No, Nchiengain, I am not angry with you; I am only sorry we part."

CHAPTER XXI

GREAT EXCITEMENT IN THE VILLAGE. – A DESERTED TOWN. – THE INHABITANTS FRIGHTENED AWAY. – AFRAID OF THE EVIL EYE. – THE AUTHOR TAKEN FOR AN ASTROLOGER. – LOST AMONG THE PLANTATIONS

On the morning of the 10th of June there was great excitement in the village of Mokaba. The Apono, headed by Kombila, were ready to take me to the Ishogo country. All the porters wore the red caps I had given them, and had put on their necklaces of beads. At a quarter past ten o'clock, just as we started, I ordered guns to be fired, to the immense delight of the Mokaba people. Kombila gave the word for departure, and one by one we took the path leading to the hills which lay directly east of the village, and soon afterward we were in the woods, passing plantation after plantation that had been abandoned, for they never planted twice in the same place. We finally arrived at a plantation called Njavi, where thousands of plantain-trees were in bearing, and where sugar-cane patches were abundant. Fields of pea-nuts were also all around us soon afterward. We rested to take a meal, and, as Njavi was situated on the plateau, I had a good view of the country.

When we resumed our march eastward the Apono were in great glee, for they had become accustomed to me. Kombila was filled with pride at the idea that he was going to take the Spirit to the Ishogo country. The men were talking loudly, and I saw that there was no chance for killing game. The country was splendid. The hills had been getting higher and higher till we had reached Njavi, but since leaving that point we had been going down the slope. We crossed a dry stream with a slaty bottom, and soon afterward came to a stream called Dougoundo, the Apono porters walking as fast as they could. Toward four o'clock we reached the large Ishogo village of Igoumbié, but found it deserted. The few men who saw us ran into their houses and shut their doors – for they had doors in Igoumbié. The people reminded me of frightened chickens hiding their heads in dark corners. A few men had been so alarmed that they had lost the power of walking, and as I passed did not utter a single word nor move a step. We walked through the whole length of the street, then got into the woods, and stopped. Kombila said to me, "Let me, Spirit, go to the village;" and he went with a few of his men. Soon afterward an Ishogo man came with Kombila, and asked me to remain in his village. "The Mokaba people are our friends," he said; "they marry our daughters; how can we let them pass without giving them food?" Rebouka being lame (one of my heavy brass kettles having fallen on one of his feet), I consented.

Now I found that I could no more know who was the chief of a village. Kombila, I began to suspect, was not the chief of Mokaba. The chiefs had a superstition that if I knew who they were I would kill them.

In the Ishogo village I was among a new people, and, indeed, their appearance was strange to me. Little by little they came back to the village, for the Mokaba people were great friends of theirs, and they told the Ishogos not to be afraid. Many of the villagers, as they had to pass by me, would put their hands over their eyes so as not to see me. They were afraid.

I took a walk through the long street of that strange Ishogo village, and counted one hundred and ninety-one houses. The houses were much larger than those of many other tribes, and were from twenty to twenty-two feet in length, and from nine to twelve feet in width. Each had a door in the middle from two to two and a half feet in width, and about three and a half feet high. The height of the lower walls was four and a half feet, and the distance to the top of the roof eight or nine feet. The doors of the houses were very tasteful. Each owner seemed to vie with his neighbor in the choice of the prettiest patterns. Every door was carved and painted in different colors. On the opposite page is a representation of some of the patterns, so you may judge for yourself of the taste of the Ishogos.

As I walked through the village, I thought what a great Spirit I must have seemed to the savage people of the interior of Africa. When I passed the houses of Igoumbié, some of the people, thinking I was not looking at them nor at their dwellings, partially opened their doors to get a peep at me; but if I happened to glance at them they immediately retired, evidently believing that I had an "evil eye."

I remained a day in the village of Igoumbié to make friends, so that the news might spread among the Ishogos that I was not an evil spirit; but most of them were so shy that when they had to pass the door of my hut they put their hands up to the side of their face so that they might not see me. Yet, in spite of their shyness, I made friends with many, and gave them beads.

One night the village was filled with fear. The people could not understand my doings. They were unable to discover what I meant by looking at the stars and at the moon with such queer-looking things as the instruments I held in my hand, and with dishes of quicksilver before me in which the moon and the stars were reflected. The aneroids, barometers, thermometers, boiling barometers, watches, and policemen's lanterns puzzled them extremely. They could not see why I should spend the greater part of the night with all those things around me.

I could not afford to lose much time in this village, for I had been so much detained before by the plague and other impediments, which have already been described, that it became necessary for me to go. I had still to pass through the territory of tribe after tribe; the Congo River was far to the eastward of us; the sources of the Nile were far away. So I said to Kombila, "Let us hurry. Take me to the farthest Ishogo village that you can. There we will remain a little while, and then I shall know all about the Ishogos."

We left Igoumbié, and once more plunged into the great forest. As I lost sight of the village, I heard the inhabitants crying loudly, "The Spirit has gone! the Spirit has gone!"

Suddenly, toward midday, the Apono porters stopped. I saw that a palaver was about to take place. I ordered my Commi men to be in readiness in case of any trouble. Kombila said, "Spirit, the people of Igoumbié wanted to have you among them. We said nèshi (no). The loads you have are heavy, and my people do not want to go farther unless you give them more beads, for their backs are sore."

I answered, "I have a heart to feel, and eyes to see. I intend to give to each of you a present before we part. Go ahead." The four elders or leaders of the party shouted, "It is so! it is so!" So we continued our march, and passed several villages, but the people were dumb with astonishment and fear.

In the country through which we were traveling, paths led from village to village, and when we came to a settlement we had to go through the whole length of it. Some of the villages in which the people had heard of my approach were perfectly deserted. In others the inhabitants had hidden themselves in their huts, and we saw none of them.

Once we lost our way, having taken the wrong path, and, being bewildered among the plantations of the natives, we had a hard time. Finally we came to a stream which the men recognized, and ascended it; but the day was then far advanced, and we concluded to build our camp. We all felt very tired, the men having sore feet on account of little ferruginous pebbles which covered the ground. After our fires had been lighted, and the men had smoked their pipes, and put the soles of their feet as near the fire as they could without burning them, we began to have a nice talk, and I asked the Aponos many questions.