“Is he not a man, and suffers pain like us? Go, get leaves and get drink for him.”
Getting into the canoe, she seated herself by my side, and began to bind up the worst of my wounds with plantain leaves, which she arranged as deftly as any member of the College of Surgeons would have done a bandage.
I felt instant relief from her services, and when she gave me a bowl of fresh plantain wine which one of the other women brought her, I began to have hope once more. Whilst she was busied about me Kifura came to see what she was doing, and rebuked her for wasting her time about a slave and a prisoner.
She answered: “O Kifura! he is a slave and a prisoner, it is true; but even slaves and prisoners have feelings, and die like other men; and this man is a white man. Now when Kifura comes to-night to his home, people at the dance will say there is no chief like Kifura, who has brought a white man to Kitaka; and words will go to all that Kifura has a white man at Kitaka, and people will come from all places to see him, and say that Kifura is indeed a big chief. But if he die, it is finished, and people will say that the words of Kifura are emptiness, and that he is no better than another.”
Kifura was somewhat convinced by her arguments, and told her she might continue her care of me; but that, if I escaped, her life would be the forfeit. Having obtained permission to attend on me, the old woman, whose name she told me was Teta, managed to rig up a place so that I could sit up in the canoe. Having done all she could for my comfort, she said that I would have to remain in it while it was hauled up the rapids, for it would be impossible for me to climb the hills, and that in the evening when we arrived at Kitaka she would take me to her own hut and tend me as if I were a son.
The canoes were now cleared of their contents, and only three men left in each canoe to manage them and fend them off rocks and snags while they were hauled up the rapids by the ropes which all hands had been busy preparing.
Shoving off from the shore we pushed round a small point and came full in sight of the rapids. I confess as I saw what was before us I did not care about making the ascent in the helpless condition in which I was; for the waters were rushing down at an angle of sixty degrees with the horizon, and huge and ugly rocks showed their heads above the surface, the foam flying wildly round them.
One by one the canoes were brought out of the still water, where they had been made fast to long ropes which were manned by men on shore and on the rocks above. Even before they commenced the actual ascent they were knocked about in the Witches’ Caldron into which the waters fell, as if they were certain to be swamped or capsized. The canoe in which I was a helpless passenger was the last to make the journey, so I had lots of time to contemplate the risks that we were about to undergo. The first canoe went safely through the boiling and seething water at the foot of the rapids, and was dragged to the ascent. At the commencement she dipped her bow and shipped a huge quantity of water; but recovering herself it went flying out over her stern, washing out a quantity of small articles which their owners had been too lazy or careless to remove. I at once saw that if the same thing happened to ours I myself should be washed out and drowned to a certainty.
My kind old woman Teta was standing on the bank near me. I called to her and told her of my fears. She laughed, and comforted me like a wayward child, and tried to persuade me that it was impossible; but at last she yielded to my persuasions, and taking off a cloth she wore she passed it behind my back and under my armpits, and knotted it securely to a piece of wood running across the canoe.
By the time she had finished a great shout announced the safe arrival of the first canoe at the summit of the rapids; and the ropes were brought down