SCENE WITH THE MBOUSHA.
CHAPTER VI.
AN OLD MAN KILLED FOR WITCHCRAFT—MY JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY OF THE CANNIBALS—STARTING ON THE ROUTE.
In the year 1856 I was again in the equatorial regions. I was in the great forest, on my way to the cannibal country; yes, the country where the people eat one another. It was a long way off, and how was I to get there through the dense jungle? How was I to find my way in that vast African forest? These were the thoughts that troubled me when I was in the village of Dayoko.
The village of Dayoko lies not far from the banks of the Ntambounay river, and is surrounded by beautiful groves of plantain trees.
Dayoko is one of the chiefs of the Mbousha tribe, and a wild and savage set of people they are I can tell you. But Dayoko became my friend, and said he would spare me a few men to take me part of the way.