A ROAST.-TOO COLD TO SLEEP. 127 I assure you I thought once or twice I should have tumbled into the water. At sunset we stopped, quite tired out. We made our camp in the midst of the prairie in order to have the nice grass to lie upon. It was the dry season, and we were not afraid of getting wet. The people went into the nearest forest and collected an immense quantity of firewood; not a difficult task, as so many dead limbs were lying on the ground. We lighted a great many large fires, which blazed up fiercely, for the wind blew hard. The country around was illuminated, and the glare of our fires must have been seen a long way off. We took our dinner and supper at the same time. I roasted my own share of the gazelle myself; I put a piece of stick through the flesh, and laid the skewer across two forked sticks, which I fixed in the ground on each side of the fire. I longed for some lard to baste the roasting meat; but I was thankful for the good dinner I had, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. I had a little bit of salt to eat with it, and also some nice Cayenne pepper. My men also seemed to enjoy their meal very much, for they had meat to their heart's content; and these negroes are very gluttonous generally. It was laughable to see how lazily we lay around on the grass by our fires; some were smoking, others tried to sleep, while others told stories, but we all tried to warm ourselves, and kept continually adding fuel to the already bright fires. The night was clear and almost frosty. The stars shone brilliantly above our heads, and it was bright moonlight. It became so windy and cold that we regretted we had not encamped by the forest, where we should have been sheltered from the wind. It was too cold to sleep, even with my blanket; and my poor men, who had no blankets, were shivering around the fires. So at two o'clock in the morning I ordered the men to get up. A couple of hours' sharp walking brought us to a thick wood, and there we were sheltered. We quickly made up one very large fire, enough for all of us, and stretched ourselves pell-mell around it for a short nap. We were so tired that we soon fell asleep, not caring for leopards or any thing else. We were awakened by the cry of the gray partridge (Francolinus squamatus), called quani by the natives. I will now say a word about these partridges. Unlike our partridges, they perch on trees. When evening comes, the old cock perches himself first, and calls the flock together. They all settle near each other. In the morning, before daylight, they begin to cluck; and it was this noise that we heard. They do not sleep on the ground, like our partridges, because there are too many snakes crawling about, and too many carnivorous animals. THE HIPPOPOTAMUS.-A SPECK OF WAR.-REACH NGOLA.- SUNRISE found us under way again; and before us lay a fine stretch of prairie, on the farther borders of which were quietly grazing several herds of buffaloes, which, as we approached them, quickly ran into the woods. While they remained in sight they gave the country a civilized appearance; it looked like a large grazing farm in June, with cattle, and hay almost ready for harvest; a fine, quiet, Old-country picture here in the wilds of Africa, that reminded me so much of home scenes that I felt happy and elated. We pushed on rapidly in order to travel as far as pos sible before the heat of the day should set in. We came to a large pool or lakelet, and, while looking at the water, I suddenly saw something strange coming out from under its surface. It was a hippopotamus-the first I had seen. I thought it was a log of wood; then I fancied it was the head of a horse; for certainly, from a distance, the head of a hippopotamus looks like that of a horse. Then I heard a great grunt, and down went the head under water. Suddenly a number of the animals made their appearance; there were at least a dozen of them. They began sporting in the water, now popping their huge heads out and snorting, and then diving to the bottom, and remaining there for some time. I watched them for a while, and then I took my gun, intending to send a bullet into the head of one and haul him ashore, but Aboko said they would sink to the bottom. Not wishing to kill one of these creature for nothing, I took Aboko's advice, and we went away. We had not met a single human being since we left Sangatanga till now. As we journeyed, I saw in the distance what I at first took to be a herd of buffaloes, but soon perceived it was a caravan of natives coming in our direction. Immediately we looked at our guns; for in this country there is no law, and every man's hand is against his brother. We saw that they, too, prepared for an encounter; that most of them hid in the grass, watching. Four fellows came toward us to reconnoitre, and to ask if it was peace or war; when suddenly they got a glimpse of me, and I do not know how, but they at once saw, from the fact of my being there, that there would be no war. They shouted to their companions to come and see the Otangani. They were Shekianis, who, as I have said, are a very warlike people, and this part of the country, I was told, was thickly inhabited by them. We left them in the midst of their wonders, and traveled as fast as we could, for we wanted to reach a village of their tribe, named Ngola, whose chief was a friend of King Bango, and was his vassal, having married one of his daughters. At last, after much traveling, we reached the village of Ngola. As we approached, and as soon as the women caught sight of me, they ran screaming into the houses. Njambai, the chief, received us very kindly, and gave me a house to live in. Ngola was a very pretty village, and the house I lived in belonged to Shinshooko, the brother of the chief. You will agree with me that Shinshooko had a funny name. He was a worthy fellow, and tolerably honest too, for he gave me the key of one of his doors-(I wonder where he got the old padlock that was on it) and he recommended me to shut my door every time I went away, as the people might steal something. Sunday came; I remained in the village. They all understood the Oroungou language, so I could speak to them. I told them there was no such thing as witchcraft, and that it was very wrong to accuse people of it, and kill them; that there was only one God, who made both the whites and the blacks, and we should all love him. This elicited only grunts of surprise and incredulity. They all shouted that there were two Gods—the God of the Ntangani (white men), and the God of the Alombai (black men). The God of the black men had never given them any thing, while the God of the white men had sent them guns, powder, and many other fine |