Chapter Twenty Eight.
You will be surprised to hear, that I was not far more frightened than he. It would have been natural that I should—being younger and less courageous, but in reality I was not. In fact, after a little terror which I experienced at the first shock, I was not frightened at all.
Of course such a wild, hideous spectacle—those three skeleton forms, with rigid limbs and bodies, and rows of white grinning teeth—was calculated to produce fear in any one, particularly when discovered in such a singular place, and seen, as we saw them, under the glaring light of a torch: and I will not deny, that at the first glance I was as badly terrified as my companion, and perhaps even worse.
But my terror was short-lived, for almost in the next moment I was quite free from it; and I stood regarding the skeleton bodies with no other feelings than those of a keen curiosity—just as if I had been looking at mummies in a museum.
I know you will be surprised at this exhibition of sangfroid on my part, and deem it extraordinary; but there is nothing extraordinary about it. It was easily explained, and I proceed to give the explanation.
My “wonder book” is again the key—it was to this I was indebted for ridding me of my fright, and once more giving me the advantage over my unlettered companion. In that book I remembered having read—of course in the same chapter that treated of the baobab—how a curious practice existed among some tribes of negroes, of hollowing out the great trunks of these trees into vaults or chambers, and there depositing their dead. It was not those who died naturally who were thus disposed of, but malefactors—men who had been executed for some great crime; and whose bodies were denied the right of burial in the regular way; for these savage people have strong prejudices in such matters, just as we find among the most Christian and civilised nations.
Instead therefore of flinging the bodies, of those upon whom capital punishment has been inflicted, to the hyenas and jackals, and leaving them to be devoured by these voracious brutes, the negroes give them a species of sepulture; and that is as described, by closing them up in vaults hewn in trunks of the baobab—and in my opinion a very comfortable kind of tomb it is. The bodies thus deposited do not decompose or decay as those buried in the ordinary way; on the contrary, from some preservative quality in the wood, or the atmosphere of the place, they become desiccated, or dried up very much after the manner of mummies, and in this state remain for hundreds of years.
You may wonder why the negroes, for the sake of mere criminals, take so much trouble as to form these large vaults in the solid trunks of trees; and especially with such rude implements as they are used to make them with. But this wonder will cease when I inform you, that the hallowing out of a chamber in the trunk of a baobab is a mere bagatelle, and costs but trifling labour. The wood of this great tree is remarkably soft and porous, and a cavity can be scooped out in it, almost as easily as in the side of a turnip—at all events with not greater difficulty than in a hard bank of clay or earth; and it is not uncommon for the negroes to hew out large chambers in the trunks of the baobab for other purposes besides the one above-mentioned.
Remembering to have read the account of all these matters, I had, therefore, quite the advantage of my companion, who had never read a word about them; and, when Ben turned round and perceived that I was regarding the scene with perfect coolness, while he himself was shaking in his shoes, he appeared quite astonished at my behaviour.
I soon explained to him the reason why I was so brave; on hearing which Ben grew brave himself; and, after replenishing our torch by fresh faggots from the fire, we both squeezed ourselves through the narrow entrance, and stood within the chamber of the dead. We were no longer afraid, even to lay our hands upon the skeletons—which we found perfectly dry and in no way decayed, either by being eaten with moths, ants, or destroying insects of any kind—all of which must have been kept away from them by the peculiar odour of the wood by which they were surrounded.