Ndong Koni and Ndong Bisia, besides the stranger, returned with me. Both boys made humorous comments upon the canoe and begged me not to attempt to cross the bay in it. But I did not see that I had any alternative. So we set out upon the deep with no other material resources than a saucepan and a ball of twine. At first we were in quiet water; but after a few minutes, having turned a point of land, we were suddenly out on the bay. As we got further out the wind increased and blew hard, and the sea, though not really bad, was far too rough for such a canoe. Nothing but sheer exhaustion saved me from a state of fright. But, what was more significant, the two Ndongs were also alarmed for our safety.

I was in the bottom of the canoe, reclining against a thwart, on the verge of sleep, but conscious of all that was going on. With the increasing wind and the straining of the whole canoe I felt that something must soon happen by way of climax. The only question was whether the collapse, when it came, would be particular or general. Suddenly a gust of wind was followed by a crash. The boom was gone, the sheet broken, the sail torn. A passing wave drenched us and almost swamped the canoe. Then I plied the saucepan diligently, while Ndong Koni dexterously managed the canoe—for we were in the trough of the sea—and Ndong Bisia and the other man, using the ball of twine, made a new sheet and tied the torn sail. Before long we were again speeding ahead, though not so fast, for we had no boom. We had other startling experiences during the night; but at length we reached the land shortly before daylight.

I have told more than enough for my purpose and have admitted irrelevant details. We were in extreme danger that night, and more than once we doubted whether we would reach land. But through all the long night, with its mischances and dangers, nothing else so impressed me even at the time, and nothing else still remains with me so vividly, as the devotion of those two boys, Ndong Koni and Ndong Bisia; their anxiety for my safety and their utter disregard of their own danger. And if occasion had come, I know that they would have sacrificed their lives to save mine. Such boys are worth labouring for and worth living for.

THE PRIMARY CLASS IN MELVIN FRASER’S BULU SCHOOL.

XI
SCHOOLBOYS

Upon my first arrival in Africa—at Batanga—Dr. Good, Mr. Kerr and myself immediately prepared for an overland journey to the Bulu interior.

Early one morning, the caravan being ready and in form, we were about to move, when, at the last moment, a small boy, frightfully dirty, came bounding out of the dark forest, all out of breath as if chased by cannibals, and throwing himself at my feet, entreated me to take him to the interior as my personal attendant. Every white man is supposed to have a “boy.” I had expected to engage a Bulu boy upon reaching the interior. But the African has a remarkable talent for importunity. This boy said his name was Lolo, and I half relented at the sound of it. Lolo might have been ten or eleven years old; although, as Dr. Good remarked at the time, it was not easy to understand how he could get so much dirt on him in only ten years.

“Go and wash yourself in the Atlantic Ocean,” I said; “and when I see what colour you are I shall consider the matter of engaging you.”

As a matter of feet, the African is surprisingly clean—for a savage; and this boy had probably accumulated most of his dirt in his desperate plunge through the jungle-paths that he might reach Batanga before the caravan should set out. He proved to be a very handsome boy, of delicate features and intelligent expression, and with irresistibly beautiful eyes. He was lighter in colour than the average. And I take this opportunity of saying that there are as many shades of complexion among Africans as among other people. There are differences between tribes and between individuals of the same tribe. As one goes towards the interior the tribal colour is decidedly lighter. The Mpongwe people are black—sometimes almost coal-black—beside the light-brown Fang. There are individual Fang who are yellow. Ndong Koni is as fair as an average mulatto. And when the skin is smooth and soft this colour is the favourite complexion. But the albino (and they are not uncommon) is an abhorrence.