I gave a present to the Shekiani chief, and off we started. We left our large canoes and took smaller ones; for we were to go through a very small stream.
As we ascended the beautiful river, we could see the lofty mountains of the interior. A great many islands studded the stream. From the trees on the banks, the monkeys looked down at us with astonishment. What curious creatures they were, with their black faces peeping out through the dark foliage, and looking as if they were making grimaces at us. By-and-by we left the river and made our way along the creeks or through the woods towards the Mbondemo village. Now and then we walked freely through the wide openings which the elephants had made. The rushing of a herd of elephants effects quite a clearing in the forest. On we went, till finally we came to a place where a great number of large trees had been prostrated. Wherever we looked, trees were lying on the ground, many of them of enormous size. As I looked I heard, not far off, a tremendous crash – a most awful noise. I could not conjecture what was the matter. It turned out that a tree had come down; and as it fell, being a huge one, it crushed a dozen others around it, and each as it broke gave a great crash, so that the combined effect was awful to hear.
We had to go through these fallen trees; and what tough work it was! I never had seen anything like it. Now we had to climb on a fallen tree and follow its trunk; then we had to come down, and were entangled in its branches or in those of other trees. At other times we had to creep under them. I was continually afraid that my gun would be fired off by some creepers or boughs getting hold of the trigger.
At last, when my patience was entirely gone, and my few clothes literally hanging in ribbons about me, my legs sadly wounded, and my face and hands scratched, we arrived at the camp of the Mbondemos, situated almost at the foot of the mountain.
These mountains were covered with an immense forest; and so thick were the trees that no open view could be obtained in any direction. The mountains ended somewhere in the interior, no one knew where, but this they knew, that it was near the home of the Fans, a cannibal tribe, and that elephants were plentiful, and gorillas were occasionally seen there. This encampment of the Mbondemos was called an Olako. There was not a house in the camp, and it was a romantic scene to look at. Scattered under huge trees, on the edge of the woods, were leafy shelters, opening towards the forest. Under these the people lived. A few sticks put close together formed their beds. They contrived to sleep upon them, and I did the same. I assure you that they were hard enough, and reminded me that a mattress was a very good thing. Every family had its fire prepared beside the beds; and around these fires in the evening they clustered, men, women, and children.
The chief of this Mbondemo encampment was called Mbéné, and I liked him very much. He was very kind to me, and always tried to furnish me with food. There was scarcity of provisions, at the time, in the camp of the Mbondemos. There were no plantain and cassada fields near, and often I had to go without breakfast or dinner. The people lived chiefly on the nuts of the forest, and at that season of the year these were very scarce.
Poor Mbéné said they had very little to eat, but would give me what they could. I had carried with me a few little crackers, which I found very precious, more precious than gold, and which I reserved for time of sickness; but one by one they disappeared. I looked at them every time I took one; but I felt so hungry that I could not refrain from eating them.
Have you known what hunger is – real craving hunger? I can assure you it is a dreadful feeling.
During that time of the year, this people had half the time nothing to eat but the nut of a kind of palm.
This nut was so bitter I could scarcely eat it. It is shaped like an egg, with rounded ends. To prepare it for eating, it is divested of its husk, and soaked in water for twenty-four hours, when it loses part of its exceedingly bitter taste, and becomes tolerably palatable, that is, to a starving man. Sometimes hunger will make them eat the nut without soaking it. I have done so myself, when lost in the forest. It is dreadfully disagreeable.
Now and then, the women succeeded in getting a few little fish in the streams, and gave me some. I could bear a good deal, for I had firmly resolved to go into the cannibal country.
These Mbondemos are continually moving their villages. Mbéné has moved his village three times within a few years. I asked him why he made these frequent changes. He said he moved the first time because a man had died, and the place was "not good" after that event. The second time he was forced to move because they had cut down all the palm trees, and would get no more mimbo (palm wine), a beverage of which they are excessively fond. They tap the palm, just as the maple tree is tapped in America, only they tap the tree at the top. This palm wine has somewhat of a milky colour; and, when drunk in great quantity, it intoxicates. The palm trees are very plentiful all over this part of the country, and it seems easier for them to move than to take care of the trees surrounding their settlements, useful as they are to them; for they furnish not only the wine they love, but the bitter nut I mentioned before, which often keeps them from actual starvation. When the tree is cut down they get what we call the palm cabbage which grows at the top. When cooked this palm cabbage is very good.
A country which has plenty of palm trees, plenty of game, a good river or rivulet, and plenty of fish, is the country for a Mbondemo settler or squatter.
In these forests there is a vine or creeper which I might call the traveller's vine. If thirsty you may cut it, and within less than a minute a tumblerful of water will come out of it. This vine hangs about in the forest, and seemed to me to grow without leaves. What a capital thing it would be if water were not abundant in this country! The water procured from it has hardly any taste, and is perfectly pure and limpid.
Being unable to endure the continual hunger, I called Mbéné, and told him that his place had no food to give, and he must take me to a country where there was something to eat, and which would be on my way to the Fan country. Good Mbéné said, "Spirit, I will try the best I can to take you where you want to go. I will send some of my people with you."
In the meantime, Dayoko's people had all returned to their village. These forests had no game. I spent hour after hour scouring the forest, but I could see nothing, except birds, some of which were extremely pretty. I am afraid that if I had succeeded in killing a snake I should have eaten it, as I felt desperately hungry. I did not like the bitter nuts; so it was agreed that Mbéné's brother Mcomo, together with several of his people, should accompany me as far as the country of the Fan tribe. I could hardly believe such good news to be true.
Mbéné's wife always cooked my food. She was a dear good old woman, and I gave her a fine necklace of beads when I left. She was delighted with my present. They were big white porcelain beads of the size of a pigeon's egg. One day Mbéné succeeded in getting a fowl for me. His wife cooked it; she made soup, and put plenty of cayenne pepper into it. I had also some plantain. How I enjoyed this meal! the more so that it was probably the last I should get for a good many days, unless we were unusually lucky, and should kill some antelopes or elephants on our road to the Fan country.
Elephant meat is execrable, as you would say on tasting it. But as you may not have the chance I will tell you by-and-by how it tastes.
As much food as possible was collected for our journey, and at last everything was ready.
CHAPTER VII
Before we renewed our journey the natives had done all they could to gather provisions; but the result was poor enough. By going to distant villages they had succeeded in getting a few bunches of plantain.
Mcomo, Mbéné's brother, backed out. He said he was not going into the cannibal country to be eaten up. But I must tell you that Mbéné had some friends among the cannibals. And he sent with me two of his sons called Miengai and Makinda, together with twelve good hunters, and six women who were the wives of some of the men. The women carried the provisions, etc.
I took seventy pounds of shot and bullets, nineteen pounds of powder, ten pounds of arsenic for preserving the birds and animals I should kill, for I knew I