Meanwhile I made the most of my situation, and endeavoured as best I could to vary its miserable monotony by observing whatever of Nature could be seen around. Even within the circumference of my vision from the Pandora’s deck, there was much that was new to me and interesting. The country around was entirely without inhabitants. The houses upon the banks of the river were mere temporary dwellings. They constituted the “factory” of King Dingo Bingo—that is, his slave-mart; but his majesty did not reside there. His town and palace were farther up the river, where the country was higher and more healthy—for here, near the sea, the climate was rife with malaria, and all the diseases for which the west coast of Africa is so notorious. The king only visited this place at “intervals,” sometimes only once a year, when the Pandora or some other vessel came for her cargo of slaves—the chief product of King Dingo Bingo’s dominions. Then would he descend the river with his “crop,” gathered from all parts—the produce of many a sanguinary conflict—many a bloodstained man-chase, in which he and his myrmidons had been engaged. He would bring with him his picked bodyguard, and his following of wives and women; for the visit to the slave-ship, with her cargo of strong waters, was the signal for a series of coarse festivities on the grandest scale.
At all other times of the year the factory would be deserted, its huts uninhabited by man, and its barracoon empty. Fierce beasts of prey would occupy the place where man had dwelt—scarce less ferocious than themselves—and Nature would be left to her silence and solitude.
For this reason the scene around had its charms for me. Its very wildness was charming, and, even within the circumscribed circle of my view, I saw much to gratify my curiosity and give me pleasure.
I saw the gigantic “river-horse,” wallowing through the flood, and dragging his clumsy body out upon the bank. Of these I observed two sorts—for it is a fact, though scarce known to naturalists, that there are two distinct kinds of the hippopotamus found in the rivers of Western Africa—the one least known being a much smaller animal than the hippopotamus of the Nile and the Hottentots. I saw daily, almost hourly, the huge crocodiles, lying like dead trees along the edge of the stream, or swimming rapidly through the river in pursuit of their finny prey; large porpoises, too, leaping high above the surface, sometimes passing the vessel so near that I could have struck them with a handspike. These were from the sea, making long excursions up the river in search of a favourite food that floated plenteously in the fresh-water. Other amphibious creatures I perceived at times—a large water-lizard that almost rivalled the crocodiles in bulk—and I once had a peep at the rare creature, the “red water-bog” of the Cameroons—for the little river we were anchored in was not far from the same latitude as the Cameroons itself, and the same species inhabited both.
Land animals, too, occasionally made their appearance on the bank, within sight of the barque. A lion was observed skulking through the trees; and huge monkeys, both red and black ones, appeared through the branches, whose wild, sometimes human, voices could be heard at all times of the night,—moaning, screaming, and chattering. Beautiful birds, too—wood-pigeons, parrots, and strange kinds of water-birds—were constantly hovering over the river, flying from bank to bank, or perched on the tops of the trees, giving utterance to their varied notes.
In truth it was an animated scene, and had I been allowed time and leisure I could have regarded it for a long while without being wearied with its monotony. As it was, however, those voices and movements of the beasts and birds only increased my longings to visit their wild wood-haunts, and make nearer acquaintance with those of them that were innocent and beautiful. With what joy then did I learn from Brace that upon the morrow he was to have “his day,” and that he had succeeded in obtaining leave for me to accompany him!
The boon had been granted in a surly manner—not to me, but to Brace himself, who had represented that he wanted me to assist him. He was going upon a hunt—for, like most of his countrymen, Brace had a little of the sportsman in him—and he would need some one to carry his game. For this reason was I allowed to go along.
For my part, I cared not for the reason. I was too happy in the prospect to cavil about the motives; and I prepared to accompany my patron with a feeling of joyful anticipation, such as I had never experienced before at the prospect of any happiness in store for me.