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succeed in finding at home' five or six women and a youth, whom he took the trouble to measure, and found their average height to be about four feet eight inches :
One of the women,' he says, 'in the course of a short time, lost all her shyness, and began to ridicule the men for having run from us. She said they were as timid as the nchende (squirrel), who cried “ qué qué," and in squeaking she twisted her little body into odd contortions, with such droll effect that we all laughed. When I brought out my tape to measure her, her fears returned; thinking perhaps that it was a kind of snake I was uncoiling out of its case, she trembled all over. I told her I was not going to kill her, but it required another present to quiet her again. I accomplished my task at last.'
After leaving Niembouai, the Ashango porters repeated the experiment which had been formerly tried by the Ishogos. They laid down their loads and demanded more pay. Again the Commi negroes took up their guns and pointed them at the heads of the offenders, who instantly yielded, and said laughing, · Let us stop awhile and have a smoke. Do you think we would leave you in the woods ? People may be left in a village, but not in the forest.' The Ashangos seem to be more civilised than the other tribes nearer the coast. One proof of this is the extent of their dress, which is made of the palm-leaves of the country.
Even the children do not go naked, and the robes of the chiefs are of unusually large size, worn gracefully on their bodies. All of the inhabitants, both male and female, shave off their eyebrows and pluck out their eyelashes, and, like the Ishogos, smear themselves with a red powder. They are not drunkards like the Aponos, though palm-trees are abundant in the country, and they drink the palm wine but in moderation. Mr. Du Chaillu was now on his way to the territory of the Njavi tribe, who live to the east of Ashango land, and as he approached the village of Mobana through the forest he was again robbed by his porters, three of whom ran away with their loads. The boxes, however, were recovered, with the articles they contained, minus the contents of some medicine bottles, which, amongst other things, held arsenic; and there was afterwards a report that some of the natives had died mysteriously after touching the white man's goods. Next day two more boxes were stolen in Mobana, and the chief was summoned, and he and his people were accused of the theft. Many were the palavers, and in vain were the detectives set to work. A novel kind of distress' was proposed by the natives to recover the goods, for they said that if they only knew the village to which the things had been taken, they would go and seize some of their women!
* Mobana is situated on the top of a high hill, and the land slopes down gradually towards the east. Here Mr. Du Chaillu heard again of a large river flowing further to the eastward, which he supposes to be the Congo; but, as we shall see, he was unable to reach it, for an unexpected disaster awaited him, which brought his expedition to an untimely end. The same kind of country through which he had already travelled seemed to extend onwards to the east : hilly ranges, clothed with forest and interspersed with open prairies, in which lie the villages of the negroes. At last, on the 21st of July, he reached the village of Mouaou Kombo, which was fated to be the limit of his journey. The natives became more and more unwilling to allow him to proceed, and a deputation from some villages further ahead arrived at Mouaou to threaten the inhabitants with war if they came with him through their country. Of course there was a palaver, and in the meantime Mr. Du Chaillu was obliged to stay at Mouaou. But he did not like to remain in the village, and formed an encampment at some little distance in the woods on the borders of one of the beautifully clear streams which he says are so frequent in this mountainous region.
• The place was a very pleasant one, under the shade of magnificent trees, whose closely-interwoven arms would protect us from the night mist which dissolves in a soaking drizzle almost every night in this humid country.'
But this distrust of the hospitality of the villagers displeased them, and they came and entreated him to come back. He at last complied with the request, and entered Mouaou with all his baggage in a sort of triumphal procession. The chief came out in state with his countenance painted and his royal bell ringing ; and his head-wife told them that she was cooking a large pot of vegetables to refresh the travellers. Alas!'
says Mr. Du Chaillu, 'the joy was soon turned into terror ! Four men from the hostile village, arrayed in warrior's attire, and brandishing plaintain-leaves over their heads, came in. They said they had held their palaver this morning, and had decided not to let the Oguizi pass; there would be war if the Mouaou people attempted to bring me.
Kombo, who was seated by my side, told me to hide myself in my hut, so as not to give the strangers the pleasure of seeing me; he then ordered my men to make a demonstration with their guns to intimidate these vapouring warriors. I laughed as I saw the men taking to their heels as soon as Igala advanced towards them, firing his gun in the air. But my men got excited, and hurrying forward into the open space to fire their guns in the air, one of the weapons loaded with ball went off before the muzzle was elevated. I did not see the act, but immediately after the report of the guns, I was startled to see the Mouaou villagers, with affrighted looks and shouts of alarm, running in all directions. The king and his kondé, who were both near me, fled along with the rest.'
A negro had been killed not far from the hut, and at first it was thought that he was the only victim. This accident might have been got over, for the natives seemed willing to take payment in beads and cloth as the price of the life that had been lost. The war drums had ceased beating, and they were going to hold a palaver, when suddenly a woman came rushing out of a hut, wailing and tearing her hair, to announce that the head wife of the chief had been killed by the bullet, which, after passing through the body of the negro, had pierced the thin wall of her hut. There was now a general shout of War!' and Mr. Du Chaillu and his little party were compelled to retreat.
* Away we went; Igala took the best of our remaining dogs, and led the van, I bringing up the rear. It was not an instant too soon. Before we were well on the forest-path leading from the village, a number of arrows were discharged at us; Igala was hit in the leg, and one of the missiles struck me on the hand, cutting through one of my fingers to the bone. Macondai and Rebouka, in leaving the village, narrowly escaped being transfixed with spears, and only succeeded in repelling their assailants by pointing their guns at them. If I had not stopped them from firing they would have shot a number of them. Wild shouts and the tramp of scores of infuriated savages close behind us put us on our mettle. I shouted to my men not to fire, for we were in the wrong, and I told the villagers we should not shoot them if they did not pursue us to the forest, but that if they followed us we should certainly kill them. My Commi boys behaved exceedingly well; they were cool and steady, and keeping a firm line, we marched away through the street of the village.'
After running four or five miles pursued by the infuriated blacks, Mr. Du Chaillu ordered his men to make a stand, and, firing his rifle, shot two of the leading negroes. This made them keep at a more respectful distance, but they still followed the retreating party, and Mr. Du Chaillu was again struck by a barbed arrow in his side. He says:-
• The unfeigned sorrow and devotion of my men at this juncture were most gratifying to me. I was getting weak from loss of blood, and a burning thirst was tormenting me. They asked what was to become of them if I should die? I told them to keep together, come what might; and if they escaped, to deliver all my journals and papers to the white men.' Twice again the Commi negroes fired upon their pursuers,
and each time with effect. This effectually frightened them, and although they followed at a distance for some time through the forest, they did not venture to show themselves, and at last were heard no longer. One of Mr. Du Chaillu's men was badly wounded, and he himself suffered acute pain from the poisoned arrows which had struck him. But the poison is not very virulent, and if the wound is an external one, it is seldom fatal.
We need not give details of the rest of Mr. Du Chaillu's retreat. It was over the same ground which he had formerly traversed, and he met with no opposition from the natives. On the contrary, they welcomed him in the most friendly manner, and often pressed him to stay with them. The Ishogos especially, whom he calls the kindest-hearted and gentlest negroes he ever met with, received the fugitives with enthusiasm, and as he passed through their villages followed him with shouts, ‘Go on well, go on well; nothing bad shall happen to you.' Perhaps the boasting of his Commi body-guard had something to do with this, by inspiring admiration of their valour; for as they increased the distance between themselves and the Ashangos, they magnified their own prowess, and told wonderful stories of the numbers of the enemy they had slain. In a short time the three or four who had fallen by their guns were multiplied to a hundred and fifty, and, like Falstaff about his men in buckram, each told a tale of the numbers he had killed with his own hand. We need not wonder at the awe which such deeds of prowess inspired, nor that the audience clapped their hands, and cried out, “You are men! You are men!' As he passed along he saw fearful evidences of the violence of the small-pox which had raged in the district. In many places the ground was strewed with human skulls and bones, and some villages had been entirely deserted. Goumbi, on the Rembo, one of the chief towns of king Quengueza, had become a ruin, and one clan of the Commi tribe was almost wholly destroyed.
The old man himself was broken-hearted, but he refused to listen to his people who wished human victims to be sacrificed as the authors of the witchcraft which had caused the plague. "No,' he said, “it was no witchcraft, but a wind sent by God. Enough people have died, and we must kill no more.' He entreated Mr. Du Chaillu to return again to Africa. «Come again,' he exclaimed, 'and go no more into the bush ; and when you come bring me a big bell, a sword with a silver handle that will not rust, and two chests, one of brass, and another of ebony, for I want to see how you work the wood that we send to you.'
At last, on the 21st of September, 1865, Mr. Du Chaillu Vol. 122.-No. 244.
reached the mouth of the Fernand Vaz river, and found a vessel there loading for London. He had lost everything but his journals, and had neither money nor property with him, but he was taken on board as a passenger, and soon after arrived safely in England. Thus ended this second most adventurous journey, of which some may think that the results have been meagre, if we compare them with the danger and the cost. It is the narrative of brave adventure, dogged by misfortune, and ending in disappointment. But this was not Mr. Du Chaillu's fault.
Though his advance from the coast has not exceeded 240 miles in a direct line, he has made many important additions to natural history, and thrown a new and interesting light on the nature of the country, and the manners and condition of its inhabitants. The region is almost impenetrable from the want of harbours on the surf-beaten coast, the deadliness of the climate, the rains which last for ten months of the year, the intricacy of the jungle which covers nearly the entire surface, and the jealous suspicions of the natives. The narrative affords abundant proof that, if any one could overcome these obstacles it was Mr. Du Chaillu—the man who, in the first instance, had been the victim of a conspiracy to make him out an impostor, to deny him all merit as a discoverer, and to suppress his name from the very specimens he had sent home. This second journey places him above the reach of cavil; and if he has failed, he has shown all future travellers the qualities needed for success.
Almost acclimatised by residence on the coast ; endued with rare energy, courage, and perseverance; personally popular with the natives for that kindly disposition which we see in the management of his guides, speaking their dialects with fluency, and showing masterly tact in his palavers’ with them, thoroughly acquainted with their habits, he seems to possess all the qualifications of an African traveller. But he was able to advance only a few hundred miles inland, and then barely escaped the fate which has befallen so many brave and distinguished men, from Mungo Park down to—we can scarcely bring ourselves to abandon hope, as, with deepest sorrow, we add the last most honoured name-Livingstone. It may be well worth while seriously to consider whether it is wise or right to expose valuable lives to such risks in such expeditions. To solve the great problem of the sources of the Nile, to dispel the darkness which has shrouded the cradle of the mysterious river for so many ages, and to set at rest a question which from the time of Herodotus had vexed geographers, historians, and philosophers, is a feat to immortalise the name of the discoverer. We can quite understand, therefore, why travellers persevered in the attempt,