Like other savage chiefs, Quengueza could not bear his white visitors to leave him. He openly thwarted Mr. Reade, and it is evident from M. du Chaillu’s account that, while he was pretending to procure porters for the journey to the Bakalai, he was in reality throwing every obstacle in the way. The possession of a white man is far too valuable to a black chief to be surrendered in a hurry, and Quengueza knew his own interests too well to allow such profitable visitors to leave his land as long as he could detain them in it.
Once Mr. Reade had succeeded in slipping off, in spite of the king’s assertion that he would accompany his “dear friend” and his continual procrastination. He had paddled to some distance, when “suddenly my men stopped, and looked at each other with anxious faces. Lazily raising myself, I looked back, and could see at a great distance a large black spot, and something rising and falling like a streak of light in the sunshine. The men put their hands to their ears: I listened, and could hear now and then a faint note borne toward us on the wind.
“‘What’s that, Mafuk?’
“‘King, sir.’
“‘O, he is coming, is he?’ said I, laughing. ‘Well, he can easily catch us, now he is so near. Kabbi!’ (i. e. Paddle!)
“My stewards gave an uneasy smile, and did not answer me.
“The men dipped their paddles into the water, and that was all. Every man was listening with bent head, as if trying to detect the words, or the tune. I looked round again. I could see that it was a large canoe, manned by about twenty men, with a kind of thatched house in its stern. The song still continued, and could now be heard plainly. My men flung their paddles down, and began to talk to one another in an excited manner.
“‘What is the matter?’ said I, pettishly.
“The sweat was running down Mafuk’s forehead. He knew what he had to fear, if I did not.
“‘It is the war song!’