The Country of the Dwarfs

by Paul B. Du Chaillu

We continued our journey westward. The forest had resumed its accustomed stillness, undisturbed by the savage war-cries of the infuriated Ashangos. I felt so weak that it was with great difficulty I could walk. I had been obliged to get rid of my splendid formidable double-barreled breach-loading rifle by breaking the butt-end and throwing the barrel into the woods. I had tried as hard as I could to carry two guns, but at last I had to give up. Now I had only a smooth-bore to carry.

A little after we had resumed our march, as we walked silently in the forest, we met suddenly two Mobana women. Igala at once was going to shoot them; I forbid him doing it. Poor Igala said he did not like this way of making war; he said it was not the white man's country, and we ought not to fight in the white man's fashion. He was for shooting every Ashango he saw; and, pointing to our wounds, he said, "Don't you think they would have killed all of us if they had been able?" I answered, "Never mind, Igala; they will tell their people that, after all, we did not want to kill every body."

Poor women! they really thought they were going to be murdered, but they had no idea of what had taken place.

We went on, though I was becoming weaker and weaker. A high fever had set in, and my thirst continued to be intense; at the sight of a stream I thought I could drink the whole of the water. My men were pretty nearly in the same condition as myself.

Thus we traveled on till near sunset, when at last I said, "Boys, I can not go any farther; I can not walk, I am so weak, so weary, so ill. There is that big village of Niembouai-Olomba near us; we are all too tired to go through it and fight our way if the people want to fight us. It will soon be dark; let us leave the path, and go into the forest and rest. At midnight, when the people are asleep, we will go through the village, and continue our way toward the sea."

"You are right," said the men. "You are our chief; we will do as you say."

We left the path and plunged into the woods, and after a while we halted in one of the thickest parts of the forest, where no one could see us but that good and merciful God whose eye was upon us in that day of our great trials, and who had given us strength to contend with our enemies. We were hidden from the sight of man, and hundreds of miles away from the Commi country—I was thousands of miles away from my own. It was, indeed, a day of tribulation. The men were afraid to light a fire, for fear that it might betray our hiding-place. We did not even dare to speak aloud; we were almost startled at the rustling of the leaves, for we knew not but that it might be the enemy. Our pride had left us with our strength. We were helpless, wounded, weak, hungry; the future before us was dark and gloomy. What a picture of despondency we presented!

After a while we lay on the ground to sleep, muzzling our only dog, that he should not betray our hiding-place. Darkness came on, and the silence of the night was only broken by the mournful cry of a solitary owl that came to perch near us. In a little time my exhausted men thought not of leopards, or poisonous snakes, or hostile savages, in the deep slumber that enwrapped them. Igala alone now and then moaned from pain. The night air was misty and cold. As I lay awake on the damp ground, an intense feeling of sadness came over me. There was I, far from home. I thought of our northern climes, of spring, of summer, of autumn, of winter, of flakes of snow, of a happy home, of girls and boys, of friends, of schoolmates. I knew that if any of them could have been made aware of my forlorn condition they would have felt the tenderest sympathy with me in my misfortunes, and I thought if I could see them once more before dying I should die happy.

Hours passed by, and at last I thought it must be time to start. I took a match from my match-box, and lighted a wax candle (I always kept one in my bag), and looked at my watch. It was just midnight. We lay in a cluster, and I awoke my men in a moment. "Boys," said I, "it is time for us to start, for the hours of the night are passing away; the people of the village must have retired. Two of you must go as scouts, and see if the people of Niembouai-Olomba are asleep." Mouitchi and Igala at once started. "Be as cunning," said I, "as leopards, and noiseless as snakes."

After a while they came back, telling us that every body was asleep in the village of Niembouai-Olomba, and that we had better start immediately, "for," said they, "the first sleep is the deepest."