PIONEERING IN WEST AFRICA; OR, “THE OPENING UP OF THE QUA IBOE RIVER”
In the year 1880, I was asked by a Liverpool firm to undertake certain work in connection with one of the trading establishments on the Old Calabar River. The offer came at a very opportune time. Being anxious to improve my position, like most young fellows, I accepted, and was soon on the way to my new undertaking. My first business was to take an old ship, that had seen the best of her days, and had been lying there in the stream for many years as a trading hulk, now being considered unsafe to remain longer afloat. I had to place her on the beach in such a way that she could still be used as a trading establishment. This was not a small matter, as the beach upon which she had to be placed was not a good one for the purpose. However, I found that if I could get her to lie on a certain spot I had carefully marked out, there was every possibility of a success; but I fear I was the only one that thought so, as it was fully twelve months before my senior would let me undertake the venture; at last I got his consent, and in a very short time the vessel was landed safely, and, I am pleased to say, did duty for over ten years. It was while waiting for this consent that the beginning of the events I am going to narrate took place.
Business was somewhat quiet in the Old Calabar, so our senior thought he would go for a bit of an excursion to a place called Qua Iboe, which was supposed to be a small tributary of the great river of Old Calabar, but which he found to his astonishment was some twenty-five miles westward of the mouth of the Old Calabar, and ninety miles from our main station at Calabar; however, he did not like to return without seeing the place, so he and his crew went, and after two or three days’ journey, they suddenly found themselves in the midst of breakers, and it was only by luck they got washed into the mouth of the river Qua Iboe, half-dead with fright, so much so that our senior would not venture back in the boat, but preferred walking overland.
After being absent seven or eight days, he returned to headquarters with a very lively recollection of what he had gone through. Not being accustomed to the sea, the knocking about of the small boat very much upset him, then the long overland journey back took all the pleasure out of what he had intended to be a little holiday. Consequently, on his return he had but little to say about the river he had gone to see; and not being of a talkative disposition, had I not pressed him on the subject, I think, as far as our establishment was concerned, the Qua Iboe would have been a blank space on the map to-day, as many more fine places are in that great continent.
So while we were at dinner, an evening or so after his return, feeling very anxious to hear something about his excursion, I remarked that we had not heard him say much about the new river. “No,” said he; “for the simple reason is that I know but very little about it, except that I nearly got capsized in the breakers.” “Well,” I said, “is it a river of any size? Would it not be a good place to open up a new business?” “Oh, yes!” he said; “the river is a fair size, and it may or may not be a good place for business. We can’t go there, we have not the means; we could not go without a vessel of some sort.” “Well,” said I, “would you go if you could? Or, in other words, will you give me all the support I need if I undertake to go?” “Yes, certainly,” he said; “I shall be only too pleased to give you anything we have here.”
That night I got to work and laid out all my plans. First I had to find a vessel. We had attached to our hulk a good large boat that would carry about ten tons. This boat I soon got rigged up with mast and sails. This done, I had a house constructed about sixty or seventy feet long by twenty wide, made ready to be put up on whatever spot I should pitch upon when I reached my new destination. This work, of course, took some little time. However, the eighth day after I had my senior’s consent to go, I was sailing away from the Old Calabar, with my little craft and sixteen people besides myself.
It took some four or five days to get to the long-looked-for Qua Iboe. At last we were rewarded with a glimpse of the bar and its breakers, which we had to pass before we could get into the river. We, however, reached it safely, and with thankful hearts I can tell you, as our journey had been anything but a pleasant one—so many of us in such a small craft. I felt bound to take this number, as in addition to wanting these people for the building of the establishment, I wished to make as big a show as I could to the, at that time, unknown natives, who had the reputation of being as bad a lot as were to be met with anywhere on the West Coast. Anyhow, I thought they would have to be pretty bad if I could not make something of them, so I sailed my boat flying up the river to the first village, which was supposed to be the senior one in the river, and was always called Big Town. It was just dusk when we arrived. We dropped anchor, and decided to rest for the night; but I found the villagers very excited, and not liking at all my advent among them, as they had just had news from the up-country informing them that if they allowed a white man to remain in their river, King Ja Ja, who was the very terror not only of this place, but of some fifty or sixty miles all round, had threatened to burn their towns down; he laying claim to all this country, allowed no one to trade there but himself.
The advice I had from these people was that I had better go back and leave them and their river to themselves. But I said, No, I am not going back. I have come to open a trading station and to remain with you, and that King Ja Ja, or any one else but our British Consul, would never drive me from that river alive. I saw, though, it was useless taking any notice of these frightened people, so I up anchor the next morning, and sailed up the river; near the next village I saw a suitable spot for our establishment. I at once anchored our boat, landed our people with house and everything we had brought, put up a bit of a shanty to sleep under for the time, and set to work to build our house; this, I may tell you, did not take long, for by the end of the week we had a fine-looking place up, such a one had never been seen in that part before. The house complete, my next work was to get goods for the natives to buy from us. This meant a journey for me.
Ten days after our first arrival, our house and store were up and built, and I was away to the Old Calabar in our boat with some of my people to get goods to start our trade with; the remainder stayed to put the finishing touches to our building and to clear the land near.
I was soon back at my post again and trade started. After this I had to make several journeys to keep our supply good, and all went well for about three months, with the exception of continuous rumours as to what King Ja Ja intended to do; these I took no notice of, as I did not anticipate he would molest me or my people. However, my peaceful occupation was not to last for long; for while I was away at Old Calabar replenishing our stock, a day or two previous to my return King Ja Ja, with about a thousand of his men, pounced down unexpectedly on these Qua Iboe people, burnt down seven villages, took one hundred prisoners, and drove the remainder of the population into the woods, cutting down every plantain tree, and destroying everything in the way of food stuff that was growing in the place. I arrived off the bar the day after this terrible business had taken place. When I left the river I left twelve of my people there. The head man had instructions that as soon as they saw me off the bar, when the tide was right for me to come in, to hoist a white flag.
The day I arrived, after waiting until I knew high water must have passed, I took my glasses, but there was not a soul visible. Not caring to risk our little vessel without the signal, I took a small boat we had with us and started over the bar into the river. What my surprise was you will readily understand when, arriving at the store, I found only one man, half-dead with fright, and crying like a child; all I could get out of him was that Ja Ja had been there and killed every one in the place. The first thing I did was to at once return to the vessel, and bring her in with the remainder of my people. We landed all our stores, then I immediately hoisted our English ensign on the flag-staff. I prayed to the Almighty to defend us and the country from the tyranny of these dreadful men who had caused so much misery for these poor people. Their wretchedness I was soon brought face to face with.
The morning after my arrival, if ever a man’s heart was softened mine was, and the tears came to my eyes when I saw crawling into the house from the woods a poor, half-starved cripple child, covered with sores, and in a dreadful state. We took it in at once and cared for it. Then I sent my people into the woods to see if they chanced to come across any one, and to tell them to come in under our flag, and I would see that no harm again befell them. In this we were very successful, for one after the other they arrived, more dead than alive, until some 700 of them were in and around our house. The next thing to be thought about was food for them. My last cargo fortunately was all rice and biscuits. This relieved me somewhat, and I felt we could at least manage for a short time.
To find food for such a great number gave me, as you may suppose, serious thought, for there was not a scrap left in the district; the land in this particular part being of a poor nature, the food grown at the best of times was very small, and this little had all been destroyed. But we had not to wait long before witnessing one of the greatest blessings that could have happened. As soon as the men had somewhat recovered from their fright, they began to go out into the river to fish, when such quantities were caught that never in the remembrance of any person in that country had such an amount of fish been seen. Load after load was brought to the shore, in fact, some had to spoil before it could be cured.
What did all this wonderful catch bring about? While a short time before these people had been in the greatest poverty and distress, now they are rejoicing and thankful for this abundance of food and wealth. I say wealth because fish in this part of Africa is more precious than gold with us. With fish anything can be bought in the market, from the smallest article to the largest slave. So you see here was our relief brought about by the ever bountiful Providence, whose all-seeing eye is ever near those who are in want and need and ask His aid, whether it be the poorest slave in Africa or the orphan child in England.
From this time we began to gather strength day by day. New arrivals came in who had managed to get away to some place of safety until they felt they could return to their native place with security.
As soon as Ja Ja and his men had destroyed the villages they returned to their town of Opobo, with the hundred prisoners, the whole of whom they massacred in cold blood, and exhibited to their townspeople, and, I am sorry to say, to some Europeans, for days. While this fearful murdering was going on twenty-five miles away from us I, with a few of the most courageous Ibunos, or Qua Iboe people, made a tour of the principal villages in the Ibuno country to let the inhabitants know of the deadly onslaught that had been committed on the people at the mouth of the river. They all swore to stand by us to a man, and to keep themselves free from Ja Ja’s tyrannical rule. After making this round we returned to the mouth of the river and turned our attention to the defence of the new villages that were about to be built.
A little accident occurred to us while leaving the last village, called Ikoropata, that may be worth mentioning as a warning to others who might be placed in a similar situation. We had just started after having a long palaver with the chiefs, our men, about twenty, marching in single file, I near the leading man. All at once I noticed he was carrying his gun in a very alarming and unsuitable way. Had it gone off by accident, which is not an unusual occurrence, the man behind him was bound to receive the contents, with perhaps fatal results. Having stopped them and explained the danger of carrying guns in this position, we started off again, every man with his weapon to his shoulder. Strange to say, a few minutes after the very man’s gun I had noticed at first blew off into the air with a tremendous report. Had this happened before, I fear we might have had to take one of our comrades back more dead than alive. The escape was a marvellous one, and not easily forgotten by any of us.
Now being back amongst our own people, we set about to get all the guns we could together, and all able bodied men I told off for gun practice and defence drill. This I carried on day after day, until we had quite a little band of well-trained men. All this time we were continually receiving rumours from the Opobo side as to what Ja Ja’s next intentions were, and to keep up the excitement he sent about 200 men as near the mouth of the river as he dared. They settled themselves in a creek two or three miles away from us, and here they used to amuse themselves by letting off now and again a regular fusilade of guns. This generally occurred in the middle of the night when every one but the watchmen had gone to sleep, and had such an effect on the frightened Ibunos that often two-thirds of them would rush off to the woods under the impression that the Opobos were again making a raid upon them. This went on for weeks, so much so that I was almost losing heart, and sometimes thought I should never get confidence in the people. At last, to my great surprise one evening in walked to my house the whole of the chiefs, who had just held a meeting in the village and passed a law that no person should again leave the town. They said they had come to tell me they felt ashamed of themselves for running away so many times and leaving me alone and unprotected in their country, and had decided to leave me no more, but that every man should stand and die if needs be for the defence of their towns. Whether Ja Ja’s people heard of this resolution I don’t know, but they soon dropped their gun firing at night, and eventually left their camping ground. Their next move was to get into the Ibunos’ markets, and worry them there. This I was determined should not be done if I could help it. It was a long time before there was any real disturbance, although I could see that the Ibunos were daily getting more frightened that the Opobo people would monopolise their markets, and in that case they knew there would be very little chance for them.
At last news came down the river that the Opobos had that afternoon sent a canoe to a market or town called Okot for the purpose of starting a trade with the natives. Now Okot was at that time one of the best markets the Ibunos had, and for them to be suddenly deprived of this trading station would be a terrible calamity to us all. I did not know what was to be done. The Ibunos would not go to the market to face the Opobos, neither would they go further up the river for fear of being molested by them. The only thing to do was to go myself and start a station at the same place, and which would enable me to keep an eye on their movements, so I at once made ready to start the same evening, and by five o’clock next morning I landed at Okot, and found the Opobo canoe there also, but like all Africans, time not being an object to them, they had not gone to the king or the owner of the land at the landing place. We did not wake the Opobos up on our arrival, but I immediately started for the village, and at daylight walked into the presence of the king of that part, who was so surprised to see a white man in his village that it took him some time to believe his eyes. Poor old chap! I fear he must have wished several times afterwards that he had never seen a white man, for he was taken prisoner by the Government in 1896 or 1897 for insisting, I believe, in carrying out some human sacrifice at one of the feast times, and died in prison. But to return to my mission. I soon made him understand that I had come to start a trading station at his beach, but before doing this I had to secure the land at the landing place for the purpose. This he readily consented to, telling me at the same time that although the land at that particular spot did not belong to him he would instruct the owner of it to sell me all I wanted. So after paying the usual compliments to the old king, I started back for the landing place with the owner, who had already sold his right to me, and was now only coming to show us the extent, which was the whole of the land of any use on this spot. Just as we got back we found our Opobo friends preparing to go to the village to see the king and also get permission to build on this land, but their surprise on being told by him that he had no land on the spot to give them I will leave you to imagine. But the Opobos at that time took a lot of beating, and they decided to build a house without getting the permission of any one, and an iron roofed house too, which was considered by the natives then a great thing. After the house had stood for some time, our consul being in the river, we had the disputed land brought before him and thoroughly discussed. After hearing evidence on both sides for two days, it was decided that it belonged to us, and the Opobos were ordered to remove their house. But before this settlement occurred we had a lot to contend with from them. They did all in their power to debar us from keeping our establishments open there, and for two or three years we had continual trouble with them, occasionally firing at our people; luckily they seldom hit any one. Then they tried competing with us in trading. This I did not mind, as I considered it a fair means of testing who was who. Ja Ja, I knew, was a very rich man, and if we attempted to follow them in their extravagant prices we should soon be ruined. My policy was to let them go ahead, which they did, paying almost twice as much for their produce as we could possibly afford to pay. This lasted a great deal longer than I anticipated, and I feel sure Ja Ja must have lost a deal of money. After about twelve months of this reckless trading we were left pretty much to ourselves at Okot, and being fairly well settled down I began to look about for a good beach to start my next establishment. I had not to look far. On the left bank of the river, about two and a half miles down from Okot, was the landing beach of Eket. Here there is a rising cliff about fifty feet high, and I had often remarked when passing this spot, “If I were going to build a house to live in here I should like to build it on this hill.” The situation was so good, as it was right in an elbow of the river, and from the top of the hill you had a view of the river branching off both up and down at right angles. An opportunity occurring for me to start a house at Eket, I went and saw the people, who were very pleased for me to come among them. So a little house was built, and a young coloured assistant named William Sawyer placed in charge, who proved to be one of the best men I ever had in the country. He needed to be, too, for the Ekets were the most trying of any of the peoples we had to deal with. I never left my stations for any length of time. Once or twice a week I visited them, but no matter how short a time I was away there was always a grievance to be settled at Eket. Poor Sawyer had a terrible time; the people had an idea they could do as they liked with the factory keeper, and would often walk off with the goods without paying for them, which Mr. Sawyer naturally objected to, usually ending in a free fight, sometimes my people coming off second best. The trade at that time at Eket was not large, although it was a good one, and I did not want to give it up if it could be helped. But my patience came to an end when I arrived upon the scene one day and found Mr. Sawyer had been terribly handled the day before. There had been a big row, and I could see by his face he had had very much the worst of the fight. I felt I could not allow this any longer, so summoned a meeting of all the chiefs and people. We had a very large meeting, one of the largest I ever remember, and after explaining to them my reason for calling them together, told them it was my intention to close the little house and go to some people higher up the river, who would be pleased for us to come among them, and would not ill-use my people as the Ekets were doing, and showing them how badly they had treated Mr. Sawyer, who had done nothing more than his duty in trying to protect the property that was under his care, and which they seemed to think they had a better right to than he. When they had heard my complaint and warning to close the house, the old and ever respected chief of all the Ekets rose to his feet. The people seeing this, there was silence in a moment (which every one knows who has happened to have been present at an African palaver is indeed a rarity), he being much loved and reverenced in his own town. As soon as he started I felt we were going to hear something worth hearing, and we did, for if ever there was a born statesman this was one. He said, “We have heard with sorrow of the way in which your people have been so ill-used by our people, and it is a shame to us a stranger should be so treated who is trying to do his best to bring business among us. Not only have you brought a business to us, where we can come and exchange our produce for our requirements, but you have opened our eyes to the light, as it were, and we have no intention that you should leave us. You have been sent to us by Abassy (which means God), and he will never let you leave us. Your trade will grow in such a way that you will see here on this beach far more trade than you will be able to cope with, so cast away from your mind the thought of leaving us. The disturbances that have been going on we will stop. It is not our wish that it has been so; it is the young boys of the village who know no better. We will put a stop to it in such a way that you will find your people from this time will have but little to complain about.” After such a speech you may be sure I gave up all thought of leaving the Eket people, and I need scarcely tell you that this same spot has become the centre of the whole of the trade of this river. The words spoken by the venerable and, I believe, good old chief came as true as the day. We did see often and often more trade than we could cope with, and the establishment grew in such a way that the natives themselves often used to wonder. I never had anything to do with a more prosperous undertaking in Africa, and to-day there are few establishments on the West Coast that can surpass it, either in its quiet, steady trade or healthy climate. I used to say one could live as long as they liked. On the hill there is a very fine house, with acres and acres of good land at the back of it, while at the foot of the hill are all the stores and the shop where the daily work and trade goes on year in year out.
Several very remarkable incidents happened here. One evening, just as we were going to dinner, a woman came and stood a little way from the house. I could see that she was crying bitterly and evidently in great distress. “What is the matter?” I said. “Affya (that is her brother) is dying, and I want you to come and see him before it is too late.” Now Affya was one of the finest young fellows at Eket, and one whom I felt would be a sad loss to a people who wanted so much leading and governing, as it were. So I lost no time, but went off at once with the woman to see if I could do anything. On our arrival at the house things looked bad enough, and I feared the worst when I saw him laid out, as every one there thought, for dead—the finest young fellow at Eket. I fell on my knees by his side and prayed as earnestly as man could to our Heavenly Father, and begged for this life to be spared to us. All at once he moved as though suddenly aroused from sleep, and in a moment I had him up and on the back of one of my boys, and away to Eket House as fast as possible, and laid him on the verandah to sleep and rest free from the close and stuffy hut he had been in before. After a little nourishment he slept all night. I kept watch near him, and next morning what was my surprise when he told me he was feeling quite strong and able to walk back to the village. This I allowed him to do after the sun had got well high, as I could plainly see the lad was out of all danger. Should these lines ever get into the hands of that lad, for lad he will always be to me, I feel very sure he will say, “Yes, this wonderful returning to life did indeed happen to me, Affya, son of Uso, at Eket, at the village of Usoniyong, in the month of July, 1892.” This is one of the many incidents that occurred whilst I was in charge at Eket and the Qua Iboe River. Another evening, just after dinner, my steward came to me saying there was a rat under the house (our house stood on iron columns). “A rat,” I said; “what do you mean?” “Well, a small woman.”
“Go and bring her up; do not be afraid.” He looked at me as much as to say you will be afraid when I do bring her up. Presently he appeared with a child in his arms, such a sight I never shall forget—almost starved to death, and covered with marks where she had been burnt with fire-sticks. This poor little thing, after wandering many days in the wood, at last found her way to our house. She was too ill to have anything done to her that evening, so I had a bed made for her in the sitting-room, close to my door, so that I could hear should she get frightened in the night. The little thing woke up many times, but was soon off to sleep again when I had patted and spoken to it. The next day we had her seen to, the steward boy set about and made her some dresses, and after a warm bath and plenty of food, in a few days the little girl was the life of our house. The poor little thing had been left without father or mother, and had become dependent upon an uncle, or some other relative, who had ill-used her in such a terrible manner that he had left her for dead. How she ever found strength to get to our house was almost a mystery.
After being with us for twelve months, some other relatives laid claim to her, and as I was just leaving for England, I allowed them to take her, but not without making four or five of the principal chiefs responsible for her welfare. She will now be a grown woman, but will look back upon those happy months with pleasure, I feel sure.
Another incident may be of interest—quite a change of scene—showing you how you may be as kind and as good to a people as it is possible to be, yet you must always be ready to defend yourself at a moment’s notice, which will be seen from the following circumstances. We had been troubled for some time past with night robberies, not very serious at first, but they became more frequent than I cared about. I gave the matter serious attention, but we could not trace the thieves, do what we would; the strange thing was, that as soon as a robbery had been committed, a native, a sort of half slave, was sure to be seen about the beach putting on what seemed to me a sort of bravado manner; but, of course, he never knew anything about the people who had been tampering with the premises, and he always appeared to be surprised to think that any one should do such a thing, but at last matters came to a climax; our plantain trees had been cut down, and a whole lot of fine plantains stolen, as well as a lot of wire fencing. I was vexed to the extreme when this dastardly work was brought to my notice. But what was my surprise, no sooner had my lad reported the matter to me, when along walked the very man I have just described, looking as bold as brass. Said I to myself, “If you have not done this stealing you know something about it, and you will have to give an account of your movements before you leave these premises.” So I sent orders to have him immediately put under arrest, which was done, and he was given to understand that until the thieves, whoever they were, had been brought to justice, he would have to remain under arrest.
This was an unexpected blow for my friend, but he proved one too many for my people. He managed to get the best side of his keeper, and slipped; next morning we had no prisoner, the bird had flown. I knew he would work no good for us in the villages, neither did he; he went from village to village, right through the Eket country, telling the people the most dreadful things, and the most abominable lies, of what had been done to him the short time he was our prisoner; so much so, that he got the people quite furious against me and my people. Just as an agitator will work up strife in England if he is not checked, so it was with this man; he got every village to declare war against me. This went on for three or four days, until he got them all to concentrate themselves. They were all brought one night to within a quarter of a mile of our establishment; here they had their war dances all night, yet I did not think there was any likelihood of their attacking us. Still, for a couple of days things did not appear right, the people seemed strange in their manner; so I thought it not wise to be caught napping, and I made some preparations for an attack if we were to have one, and had the Gatling gun placed in position at the rear of the house. This I felt was quite enough to defend the house, if I could but get a fair chance to use it, although I was in hope I should not be called upon to do so.
We had not long to wait, for at 5.30 in the morning after a continuous beating of drums all night, I got up and walked out on the verandah, which was my usual custom, not thinking we were going to be attacked, but when I looked round, the wood and bush seemed to be alive with people, and some of them were already advancing towards the house, while one chief, more daring than the others, came on near enough for me to speak to him. Seeing this unexpected development of affairs, and the suspicious look of my friend near at hand, I called to my boy, who was near, to bring my revolver, and no sooner had the chief got within twenty paces or so of the house, when I called upon him to stop and tell me what was their mission so early in the morning. He said they had come to talk over the matter of the man I had imprisoned. But I said this is not the time of day we usually talk over matters we may have in dispute—the afternoon being always the recognised time. “Yes,” said my friend, “but we want to settle matters now.” “All right,” I said, and with that I held my revolver at his head, and ordered him to stand, and not move an inch, or I would shoot him dead on the spot. The people at the back, seeing what was taking place, began to move towards the house. I said to my boy, “run to the beach and tell Mr. Sawyer to come up.” This was my coloured assistant, whom I knew I could trust. The lad was away, and Mr. Sawyer at my side before the people had got too near. “What am I to do, sir?” “Take this revolver and hold it to that man’s head, whilst I jump to the Gatling; if he moves, shoot him down.” There was not half a move in him, and in a moment I was at the Gatling. By this time there was a general move forward from all parts of the bush, but no sooner did this black mass see I was at the gun, and determined to fight or die, quicker than I can write these words, I saw the whole body fall back in dismay. There was my opportunity. I jumped from the Gatling, went straight to the people, and demanded of them what they wanted to do. Their answer was—“We don’t know; we are a lot of fools, and we have lost our heads; send us back, we have no business to come to fight against you, and we don’t want to.”
By seven o’clock that morning the trade was going on in our establishment as though nothing had happened. This little incident I have always described as a bloodless battle, won in a few moments; yes, in almost less time than it has taken me to write its description. This matter we finally settled, after holding a large meeting with all the chiefs and people. The laws of these people are very definite; you must have absolute proof of a person’s guilt, before you can even accuse him. I had to sit as judge over my own case, which was rather an unfair position for one to be placed in. But as the laws are definite it was simple enough to decide. The question was—“Had I any proof that this man was one of the thieves, or in any way connected with the affair?” I had not; my evidence was purely suppositional. This ended the matter. I was in the wrong, therefore I had no alternative but to put a fine upon myself, which I did, and was very pleased to end what had nearly cost me my life, and probably also a number of my people. After this affairs went on merrily at Eket.
There was a place called Okon some few miles up the river from Eket, and here I proposed to start another establishment, so had made all preparations at Ibuno for that purpose, and left the latter place with my boat, people, provisions and materials. We arrived at Okot overnight, intending to sleep there, as it was the nearest beach to Okon. All went well until the next morning, when we were preparing to start. My factory keeper at Okot came to me in the most serious manner possible, wanting to know if I really meant going to Okon. I said “Certainly, we have come up for the purpose.” “Well,” he said, “I think you had better not go; there are very nasty rumours about here that it is intended to do you some harm if you should attempt to open up at Okon; in other words, men have been appointed to take your life.” “All right,” I said; “we must take our chance; we shall not turn back until we have tried.” So away we went, I in a small boat with a few boys, the others in another boat with the etceteras. We arrived at Okon and landed our goods, but we found a number of Ja Ja’s people had arrived before us. I took no notice of them any more than passing the time of day. However, I must confess [I did not like their demeanour.] Nothing was said and our provisions were safely housed in a native shanty. Here I intended to remain while building our own house. The timber, iron and other goods were placed on the spot we intended to occupy. This done, I started off with a couple of boys to acquaint the king and the people of the village of our arrival, and to get the king or some of his chiefs to come down and allot me the land I required. We had been in the village some little time, and matters were well-nigh settled, when all at once there was a general stampede from the meeting house, and just at that moment I heard a regular fusilade of guns, and in came running one of my people from the beach, nearly frightened to death. “Massa, massa, come quick to the beach; Ja Ja’s men have burnt down the house and want to shoot us all, and all our [goods are in their hands.”] By this time a lot of Ja Ja’s men were in the village, and I was left absolutely alone with the exception of my own boys and the one that had run up from the beach. Every native had rushed to his compound as soon as the firing had commenced. I turned to my boys, told them not to fire, but to keep cool, do as I told them, and be ready to protect themselves if any one attacked them, not else. So down we slowly walked to the beach. Here was a sight for me! All my goods thrown to the four winds, my house burnt to the ground, and about a hundred or more of Ja Ja’s or Opobo men arranged up in line, every man with his rifle and cutlass, ready to fight, which they evidently anticipated I should do as soon as I appeared on the scene; but this I had no intention of doing. To attempt to show fight against such odds would have been simply suicidal, so I made up my mind to show the best front possible under the circumstances, called my boys, placed them in equal numbers on either side of me, with our backs to the bush and facing our would-be enemies. I then inquired what they wished to do. Drawing my revolver, which was a six chambered one, I held it up. “If you want my life you may have it, but, FIRST, let me tell you, inside this small gun I hold six men’s lives; those six men I WILL have, then you may have me.” Not a word was uttered. Then I said, “If you do not want that, I and my people will leave you here in possession of these goods and the house that you have already partly destroyed.” With this I ordered my boys to the boats, to which we went quietly and in order, leaving our Opobo friends dumbfounded and baulked of the main object of their mission.
When we had got well clear of the beach I was thankful indeed, for never was a man nearer death than I was at that time, I think. We went down to Ibuno as fast as our boats could go, our boys singing as Kroo boys can sing when they feel themselves free from danger. I only stayed a few hours at Ibuno. As soon as the tide served I made right away to Old Calabar to lay the whole affair before H.M. Consul. After this I felt I had done my duty in the matter of the Opobo business. The affair was, of course, settled against the Opobos, and they had to leave the Okon beach to us absolutely.
I must not deal with the rough side only of pioneer life in West Africa, so I think I will just touch upon one of the many kindnesses shown to me by the Ibunos during these troublous times. The Qua Iboe bar, like many others along the coast, more so in this particular part, is very treacherous, being composed of quicksand. It is always on the move, so the channel changes from place to place. Sometimes you go in and out at one side, sometimes at the other, and sometimes straight through the centre. These moving sands require a great deal of careful watching and constant surveying, which I used to invariably see to and do myself about once a fortnight. While out on this work one day, with four boys and Mr. Williams, who at that time had a small establishment at Ibuno, and was as anxious as I was to know the true position of the channel, we were both working small sailing craft—we had not risen to a steamer then—(now there is, and has been for a considerable time, one working the same river), and started off, the weather being fairly fine, and to all appearances the sea very quiet. All went well with us going out. I got soundings right through the channel, and after passing safely we turned our boat about to come back into the river again. Along we came until we got right into the centre of the bar, then suddenly a sea took us, and before any one could speak the boat was over. We were under water and the boat on top of us. Being a good swimmer, I was not afraid, but immediately dived down and came up alongside the boat. My boys were round me like a swarm of fish, not knowing whether I could swim or not. I soon put their minds at rest and told them not to trouble about me, but to get everything together belonging to the boat and get her righted. This done, “Now,” I said, “if you will all keep your heads and do as you are told, we shall get the boat and ourselves through all right.” So we divided, three on one side, three on the other, and swam with the boat until we reached the beach, which was about a mile and a half distant, and I can tell you took us some considerable time. Before we landed we had been something like three hours in the water, which is no small matter anywhere, much less in West Africa, where one is not always in the best of condition. Mr. Williams got very frightened and, I think, was in doubt once or twice as to whether we should reach the shore; but we did, and were truly thankful, and although we did not openly show it, we gave none the less hearty thanks from our inmost hearts. After landing we righted our boat and paddled off up river to our factory. Here we arrived before any of the natives knew what had happened. Our boys soon put the news about, as they felt they had had a marvellous escape. Mr. Williams and I drank as much brandy as we could manage, then I jumped into bed and remained until the next morning. I believe he did the same too. At daylight I awoke and felt, to my surprise, as well as I ever felt in my life. Being so long in the water, I fully anticipated a severe attack of fever next day, but it wasn’t so, and I was about my business as though nothing had happened. I don’t think I should have thought any more about it had not the Ibunos so forcibly reminded me of the danger we really had passed through. After having so many narrow escapes this one appeared to pass as a matter of ordinary occurrence. Not so to them; the afternoon of the day after the accident, while I was out about the work, I saw an unusual number of natives going to the house, each little contingent carrying baskets of yams and fish. I had not long to wait before one of my boys came to tell me the Ibuno people wished to speak with me at the house. I went to them at once. Here was my dining room full of natives, and in the centre a pile of yams two or three feet high, and fish, the very finest that had been caught that day, as well as some very beautiful dried fish, enough to last me and my people, I should think, a month or more. This sight took me rather by surprise, not quite knowing what was about to take place. I took the chair which was placed for me and waited. All being quiet, one of the chiefs rose up and said, “We know you are somewhat surprised to see all us villagers here to-day, and also the food we have brought with us which is now in front of you, but we have come to tell you how sorry we all were, men, women and children throughout our villages, when we heard you had been thrown into the sea, and all had such a narrow escape of losing your lives. We are all the more sorry to think that not one of our people were able to render you the slightest assistance. Had we seen you or known what was taking place every canoe would have come to your aid, but we did not, and while we were sitting comfortably in our houses you were struggling in the water. To us this has been a grief, and to show you how thankful we are to think you have been preserved to us through this danger and many others, we have brought for your acceptance the best we can offer you. We are but poor, as you know, but these gifts come from our hearts as a present to you and a thank-offering to our Father in Heaven who has been pleased to restore you to us unhurt. We are, we must tell you, thankful in more ways than one for your deliverance, because had you been lost our great enemy Ja Ja would at once have said his Ju Ju had worked that it should be so.” With this he sat down.
For me to attempt to express what I felt at that moment would be impossible; I must say I felt a very unpleasant feeling in my throat, and I don’t know but that some of the water I had had too much of the day before was having a good try to assert itself. If it had, it was not to be wondered at; for any one would have to have been hard indeed if such kindness did not touch them; even the strongest of us are bound sometimes to give way for a moment. I did not attempt to hide from them the fulness of my heart, and the gratitude I felt for such kindness, where I least expected it. I told them I had not thought much of the accident, but I was thankful to think my life and my people had been spared, and I only hoped I should live to show them how their great kindness would ever be remembered by me, and would not be forgotten as long as life lasted. After general thanks our meeting broke up and ended, but has never been forgotten.
After we had got fairly well established and our trade began to develop itself, our firm at Liverpool chartered a small brig, with a general cargo of goods for us, which in due time I was notified of. Now this was a great event, not only for us, but for the river, as this would be the first sailing ship that had ever entered the Qua Iboe to bring in and take out a cargo direct. Everything that had been done before this was by small craft, and transhipped at one of the main rivers; so I was very anxious that the arrival of this ship should be made as complete a success as possible. I knew it would be next to impossible to bring her in right over the bar, as deeply laden as she would be from England, as our depth of water was not more than 8 ft. 6 in. to 9 ft. at spring tides, and this vessel would draw from 10 to 11 ft. at the very least.
In due time the little ship was sighted off the bar. As soon as the tide made, I put off to her to receive her letters, and to give the captain instructions as to what I wished him to do. On arriving alongside, the first thing I found was that her draft of water was 11 ft., so I told the captain he could not possibly go into the river with that draft, so we decided to lighten her all we could; I left again for the shore to make all the necessary arrangements to this end. The next morning our boats were started off out; the day being fine they all got alongside without much trouble, and brought away as much as they could carry, which was not more than about twenty tons; this from 200 did not make much impression on the ship’s draught. Next day all the boats were again despatched; this time the weather was anything but favourable, and, to my dismay, while all the boats crossed the bar in safety, not one could get to the ship; the wind and current being so strong down from the westward against them, they all fell away to leeward. When night came on they anchored, as they could neither get to the ship nor back to the river; here they were without food or fire. All remained until the next day, when the weather, if anything, was worse; so when evening came and they all found it was useless trying to get back into the river or to the ship, and being without food, they all ran before the wind for the Old Calabar River, which was some twenty-five miles to the mouth, then about thirty-five miles more of river, until they got to our establishment there; here they eventually arrived nearly starved; while I, with only one boy, was left at the Ibuno factory in a dreadful state of mind, as you may imagine, wondering what had happened to our people, and also what was to be done with the ship and cargo. The spring tides were upon us, and the vessel either had to come in at once, or remain out another fortnight, and be under demurrage, which meant a very serious matter for us. Being our first ship, it was most unfortunate. The only thing to do was to bring her in as she stood. This had to be done at all costs; so I at once got Mr. Williams, who, by-the-bye, was generally to the fore in time of need, to lend me his boat, with three of his boys; these, with my one, made up some sort of a crew. Away we went, and got safely out. On the way I had a good survey of the bar, so as to get every inch of the water it was possible. This carefully done, we arrived alongside the ship, and no one was more surprised than the captain, when I told him I had come out to take his ship into the river, if he was ready. “Yes,” he said; “if you will undertake to do it.” “I will,” I said. “You work your ship as I tell you, and we shall get in all right, I feel confident.”
The order was given to loose all sails and heave anchor, which was done in a very short time. As the tide was near to being high, there was no time to be lost. We were soon under way, and our little craft, with all sails set, bounding for the bar. I had my channel to a nicety; over we went, to my astonishment, without a touch. The relief I felt when this was passed, I am unable to describe. In a short time the first ship that had ever entered Qua Iboe River from England direct was anchored off our factory. The natives crowded down to see this, to them, wonderful sight, and when I landed I was immediately carried on the shoulders of some of the crowd up to my house. The delight in the river that evening was great indeed; so much so, that I shall not easily forget that event.
Still, my troubles were not quite at an end, for while we had the ship in, we had no one to discharge her cargo; but “necessity being the mother of invention,” I called the chiefs of the village together, and told them of my position. One boy was all I had, and the cargo must come out of the ship. “All right,” they said, “show our people what has to be done; we will discharge the ship.” Next morning our beach was alive with people, and by the evening of the next day she was completely discharged and ready for homeward cargo. We could now afford to take more time. The next thing was to commence loading; this we had got well on with, when our people returned. After this we were not long in getting our ship ready for going out over the bar again, which was done as successfully as she was brought in. After getting her clear we ran her to Old Calabar to complete her loading for England. This ended our first ship, others followed after, one of which got left on the bar a wreck, and another turned back and was condemned in the river. We soon gave up the idea of working sailing ships. A small steamer was bought, and after this things went fairly well.