The Dantec passed through with us without difficulty, and it was now the turn of the Aube. Digui attempted a manœuvre with her of positively extraordinary audacity. Knowing all too well that the rock which had been nearly fatal to us could not possibly be evaded, he simply flung the boat upon the grass-covered bank, and she climbed up, driven on by the great speed of the current. Then he let her slide down again backwards, or, to use the strictly nautical term, to fall astern.
For all this, however, we every one of us had to pay toll in one way or another at this infernal Labezenga. The Aube grated on the point of a hidden rock just as she was about to join us again in quiet water.
It was now two o’clock in the afternoon, and we had been eight hours getting over a little more than half a mile in a straight line. We were famished with hunger, and our craving for food became almost unbearable. I constituted myself cook, and drawing upon our reserves of tinned meats and preserved vegetables, which we all felt we were justified in doing under the circumstances, I seized what came first, and tumbled everything helter-skelter into a saucepan. We all devoured the result, which I called tripes à la Labezenga, without in the least knowing what we were eating. I will give the recipe to all who wish to emulate Vatel: tripes à la mode de Caen, truffles, esculent boletus, haricots verts, with plenty of pepper and spice, served hot. In N. Lat. 14° 57′ 30″, after just escaping from drowning or from death in the jaws of a crocodile, nothing could be more delicious, but somehow I have never ventured to try my olla podrida again in France.
After a little rest, which was indeed well earned, Baudry went with Digui to the village of Labezenga to try and get guides. He came back in a state of terror at what he had seen.
For more than a month we had to lead a life such as I have just described. What I have said will give an idea of all we went through. I don’t want to dwell too much on our sufferings now that they are over. Once embarked on such an enterprise as this there is nothing for it but to go straight ahead, and by degrees one gets accustomed to the danger to a certain extent. I swear, however, that not all the gold in the world would induce me to do again what we did on this trip under similar conditions. Ten times a day at least we had to face these awful rapids, to go through all the agony of suspense, succeeded by the awful sensation of passing over the obstacles before us, whilst the boat seemed to rush from beneath us and plunge into the foam, from which it seemed simply impossible that she should ever again emerge.
Or again some rock barred our passage, and only by force of moving were we able to make our way inch by inch against the current which threatened to sweep us away. Then, as we literally scraped the rock, we knew that two or three inches made all the difference between life and death! For there would have been no hope of escape if we were once upset in these awful rapids. Death would have been inevitable, for the best swimmer could not have made head against such currents as these, but would have been dashed to pieces by them against the rocks.
Or supposing that by a miracle he should escape death by drowning or by being flung upon the rocks, a yet more awful danger awaited him after he had safely passed the rapids, for beneath all of them many terrible crocodiles lie concealed, on the watch for the luckless fish, which, rendered giddy by the whirling turmoil of water, simply swim into their jaws. Crocodiles, you must know, do not kill their prey as sharks do, and no death could be more terrible than that inflicted by these awful denizens of the Niger, for they plunge their victims under water and drown them. Imagine what it must be to feel oneself gripped by the huge teeth of a merciless brute and dragged along until death from suffocation ensues.
THE ‘AUBE’ IN THE LAST LABEZENGA RAPID.
General Skobeleff said one day, “If any one says to you that he has never been afraid, spit in his face and tell him he is a liar!”