Before starting I called Ranpano and all his people together, and said that I had perfect confidence in them; that I was their white man, and had come to them through much difficulty and many dangers. (Cheers.) That Sangala's people wanted me, but I was determined to live with the honest folks of Biagano (Ranpano's village). (Tremendous applause.) That I was going away for a few days, and hoped to find my goods all safe when I came back.
At this, there were great shoutings of "You can go! Do not fear! We love you! You are our white man! We will take care of you!" and so on; amid which my sixteen men seized their paddles, and shoved off.
At nine in the evening, the moon rose; and we pulled along through what seemed a charming scene. The placid stream was shaded by the immense trees which overhung its banks; and the silence was broken, now and then, by the screech of some night-prowling blast, or, more frequently, by the sudden plunge of a playful herd of hippopotami, some of which came very dangerously near us, and might have upset our canoe.
Towards midnight, my men became very tired, and we went ashore, at a little village which was nearly deserted. We could find only three old women, who were fast asleep and were not particularly anxious to make us welcome. I was too sleepy to stand upon ceremonies, and stowed myself away under a rough shed without walls. I had scarcely lain down, when there came up, suddenly, one of those fierce tornadoes which pass over these countries in the rainy season.
Fortunately, it was a dry tornado. In my half-sleepy state I did not care to move. As the tornado had unroofed every other shed as well as mine, nothing would have been gained by moving, even if it had rained.
The next morning we paid for our lodging, not in hard cash, but with some leaves of tobacco, and up the river we paddled until we reached a village called Igala Mandé, which is situated on the banks of the river. In a two hours' walk through grass fields we found numerous birds. One, in particular, was new to me, the Mycteria senegalensis. It had such long legs that it fairly outwalked me. I tried to catch it; but, though it would not take to its wings, it kept so far ahead that I did not even get a fair shot at it. This Mycteria senegalensis is a beautiful bird, and wanders here through the grass of the prairie.
There were also great flocks of a beautiful bird, whose dark golden body-plumage and long snow-white downy necks make a very fine and marked contrast with the green grass. Next to these, in point of number, was the snow-white egretta, which is found in vast flocks all along this coast.
At last we came to Aniambia. Olenga-Yombi, the king, came in from his plantation when he heard the joyful news that a white man had arrived. I paid him a state visit. He was a drunken old wretch, surrounded by a crowd of the chief men of the town. His majesty had on a thick overcoat, but no trousers; and, early as it was, he had already taken a goodly quantity of palm-wine, and was quite drunk. I was invited to sit at his right hand.
King Olenga-Yombi was one of the ugliest fellows I ever met with. He always carried with him a long stick; and when drunk he struck at his people right and left, and shouted, "I am a big king!" Happily, they managed to keep out of his way.