We were watching an opportunity when the angry billows should calm down and there should be a lull. The lull came, and almost as quick as lightning the canoe was in the sea and we were off. My men paddled as hard as they could in order to pass the surf before the heavy rollers should break again.
A GREAT GORILLA.
But lo! when we were about midway, the face of Ratenou changed color, for from far away came one of those heavy swells that, as he knew, would gradually change itself into a heavy roller as it neared the shore, and in breaking dash to pieces all that came in contact with it. If that roller broke before it reached us, however, all would be right.
It came on, rising and rising, when suddenly Ratenou said—“Commi, you are men! Let us take care of our white man!”
Then the paddles stood still; the roller crested and broke right upon our canoe, upsetting it with fearful force, and whirling us round and round. I was stunned by the force of the waves; breaker after breaker came dashing upon us, one after the other, but the faithful Commi men were there, shouting one to another—“Let us take care of our white man!” Ratenou, Kombé, and Oshimbo were swimming under me; I was surrounded by them all; good, noble fellows they were. At last we reached the shore. I looked round. Every man was there; no one had been drowned; no one had had his head smashed by the upsetting of the canoe. With a grateful heart I thanked God for his goodness to us all. The tide was coming up, and our canoe and paddles were soon thrown on the beach by the force of the waves and the current.
I looked at that vessel, and how sorry when I was gradually its white sails became dimmer and dimmer in the distance. At last it disappeared, and with a heavy sigh I made for the camp.
If you had been in a strange land amid savages, I am sure you would have felt as I did then.
CHAPTER X.
DEATH IN AN AFRICAN VILLAGE.—LAMENTATIONS.—THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES.—AN AFRICAN CEMETERY.
What a strange thing is an African funeral! In a town on the banks of the Rembo, called Conaco, where I had just arrived in my canoe, a man was very ill. These poor savages seemed to be very sorry for him, but did not know what to do. If I remember aright, the name of that man was Irende. He had been a great warrior and a great hunter, but disease had laid him prostrate, though he was still a young man.