When all was ready for a start, Macondai, my boy, fired a gun, and then I swung the American flag to the breeze, the first time that it or any other flag of a civilized nation was over these waters. The people shouted, and we were off; and as we glided down, and before we disappeared by the bend of the river, I saw Obindji’s hand waving farewell to me.
Presently several miles down the stream we passed Querlaouen’s plantation. He and his kind wife and their children stood on the shore and beckoned me to stop. We paddled in, and the good fellow silently put into my canoe another smoked-boar ham, while his wife gave me a great basket of sweet potatoes. As we started away again, the wife shouted, “When you come back bring me some beads.” The children cried out, “When you come back bring us some clothes.” But old Querlaouen stood still and silent, like a black statue, until, by a turn of the river, he was lost to our sight.
Quengueza accompanied me to Washington and Biagano, and all of the Goumbi people that had canoes accompanied us, beating tam-tams, singing songs, and firing guns as we descended the stream.
Quengueza was bringing back safely to Ranpano his friend Chaillee. At last we reached the place where the old bamboo house was, and the whole population turned out to receive me, headed by King Ranpano and old Rinkimongani, my housekeeper, and brother to the King. I found my house undisturbed, all my valuables and goods safe, and my live stock on hand and in good condition, and made old Rinkimongani very proud by expressing my satisfaction. He said, “Now you tell me what I stole?” And King Ranpano exclaimed, “Ah! we don’t steal from our white man. We are people, we have a heart that feels, we love our white man, for he is the first that ever came to live among us.”
AU REVOIR.
And now I must say good-by again to you; and I wish that, in reading this book, you may think that you have been travelling with me for a while in the great forests of the Equatorial regions of Africa. I have many more things to say to you, but will wait for another year before I do so.
I hope that I have been able to instruct as well as to amuse you, and that, as the years go by, and you become men and women, you may remember some of the stories I have told you. Some of you, no doubt, have seen me, while others do not know me. My great wish is that you may think kindly of me, and remember him who will always be happy to call himself the boys’ and girls’ friend.
DU CHAILLU’S