In African Forest and Jungle

by Paul B. Du Chaillu

We hurried back as fast as our legs could carry us, and it was a good thing that we returned. Otherwise we should surely have found only the skeleton of Akenda-Mbani, as I had said, for we had not been at home an hour before the bashikouays made their appearance.

Fortunately we were ready to receive them. In a number of places within our enclosure firewood had been piled up and was all ready to be lighted. Water was boiling in all the pots we had, and we had plenty of hot ashes. The smoke prevented the bashikouays from ascending the trees, and we spread hot ashes wherever they appeared.

After this I said to Rogala: "We must take Akenda-Mbani out of the nchogo. I do not care whether he runs away or not. I do not want his death on my head or on yours. The Oguizi wishes nobody to die. Just think what a narrow escape he had! If he had been eaten up by the bashikouays, it would have been our fault. It will never do to keep a man in nchogo unless some one is near to watch him."

"You are right, Oguizi. It is so; it is so," he repeated half a dozen times. Then he added thoughtfully: "Yes, when people have been discovered to be wizards, they are tied to a tree when the bashikouays are in the neighborhood, and in a short time nothing is left of them but their bones."

So Rogala and I took Akenda-Mbani out of his nchogos, first freeing his hands, and then his feet.

I felt now quite happy, for Akenda-Mbani was free, and if we had been sure of him at first he would not have been placed in nchogo at all. He was now one of us. The next day we all went again into the forest in search of firewood, and without being told to do so, Akenda took a heavy load on his back, and carried it to the camp. The day following, he went into the forest by himself, and set traps for game, coming back with a porcupine and a pangolin or ant-eater. So plenty was in the camp once more for the moment. The porcupine meat is very good, the pangolin's was very strong.

But when these were eaten, no more game was trapped, and we again boiled some of the antelope skin.

I had such a "gouamba"—that is, such a longing for meat—that the nuts and the boiled antelope skin became loathsome to me. I ate them just as a man would eat, day after day, bread soaked in water.

What a fearful meaning there is, I said to myself, "in that native word 'gouamba'!" I spent hours in a sort of waking dream in which I fancied that I had returned home, and had met many friends, one after another, as I walked about the streets. The first one would say: "Hello, is that you, Paul? Welcome home. Won't you dine with me to-day? My wife and children will be so glad to see you back again. We have roast beef to-night."

Then, in a moment, I found myself at the family table. A big, juicy piece of roast beef was before my eyes on the table. I saw my friend cut the roast beef. A big piece was served to me. I was then asked if I would have sweet potatoes, corn, and other vegetables. I could see the smoke rise from these hot dishes. How I enjoyed the pudding and the ice-cream at the end of the dinner!