Another party, and a very powerful one, having on its side the great doctors of the tribe, who had been consulted about Remandji's death, declared that the Spirit himself, meaning me, had killed Remandji, for I loved him so much I could not part with him, and I wanted to take his spirit with me wherever I went.
A few days after Remandji's death his son Okabi died also. Fear seized upon the Apingi people. "Surely," said they, "the Spirit has killed Okabi and Remandji," and many were oppressed with a presentiment of death, for many had been my friends, and from that day they believed that when I left a country I killed my friends in order not to part from them. The present chief of the Apingi Land, having heard of my arrival, sent a deputation to Olenda with the words "I do not want to see the Spirit. I do not want to follow him, as Remandji and his son have done, but rather prefer to stop at home and eat plantain. This present world is good enough for me."
The Apingi messengers were afraid of me, and had gone back to their own country without waiting for my appearance. So, after the departure of the Apingi messengers, a great council of all the Ashira chiefs was held to decide by which route I should be sent into the far country.
It was determined at last that I should go through the Otando country, and that messengers should be sent at once to the king of that far-off land, telling him that Olenda was to send me to him. Quengueza then made his preparations to return to Goumbi.
I sent my men out hunting every day to drill them and accustom them to fire-arms. I made them practice shooting every day, so that they might become better marksmen. I do not speak of Igala, who was what might have been called a dead shot.
A few days after what I have just related to you, a man called Elanga, a grand-nephew of Olenda, was taken ill with a disease which the natives had never seen. Elanga lived a long distance from our village, but his people came to me to see what I could do for him. The description they gave me was that of the small-pox. I promised to go and see him the next day, but that day the news came that Elanga had died. There was a great deal of mourning and wailing among the people; they all went to Elanga's village except Olenda, my Commi men, and Quengueza's people.
Elanga had been to our camp to fetch our baggage, so immediately the people said Elanga had been bewitched. I went to see the body of Elanga; it could not have been recognized. I was not mistaken; the worst type of confluent or black small-pox had killed him. So when I saw the people around him I tried to dissuade them from touching him, and advised them to burn every thing with which he had ever come in contact, even the house where he slept. Nevertheless, the mourning ceremonies took place as usual. My worst fears were realized. Soon after, two cases occurred among the mourners; then it spread like wildfire. Pestilence had come over the land. It came from the interior, and was working its way toward the sea.
The plague broke out with terrible violence all over the country. Olenda's village was attacked; Olenda's favorite wife was the first victim. Every body who was attacked died. It was in vain that I begged them to stop their "mourning" ceremonies. Almost every body who had attended Elanga's funeral had caught the plague and died. A cry of anguish rose over the land.
I established a quarantine camp, and forbid my men to move out of it. I was full of anxiety on account of poor Quengueza.