The spare ends of the knot grew shorter and shorter, and it became a question whether the knot would hold out or slip before we arrived at the top of the rapids. Slowly we made our way, and were almost in safety, when a log coming down the river struck against the bow of the canoe. This extra strain was too much for the knot, and it slipped.
Instantly the canoe swung out against the rocks and hung below one of them, with the water rushing over her, half capsized, and then the three men who formed her crew were thrown out into the rapids. I was in a most perilous position, half suffocated by the water tearing over me, and expecting every moment that the other rope would be cut through by the rocks against which it was grinding, and that I and the canoe would be dashed to pieces. I could do nothing to help myself; and there I hung in the canoe for a time which seemed to me an eternity, only waiting for the end.
I had entirely given myself up for lost, and was trying to frame a prayer imploring forgiveness for my sins, when I felt that the grating of the rope over the rocks, which was causing the whole canoe to vibrate, had ceased. Then I felt myself being again hauled through the water, sometimes under and sometimes above water, the canoe rolling over and over as we were hauled over the edge of the rapids.
Just at the last moment I received a blow on my head which stunned me, whether from a piece of wood or a rock I know not. When I recovered consciousness I found myself lying on a rock with old Teta bending over me and bathing my forehead. As I opened my eyes she bade me be of good cheer, as I had a strong fetich and the river could not kill me. I do not know that I felt much comfort from her assurance, for I thought if the future had as much suffering in store for me as the past, death would be a merciful release to me. She told me the three men who had been in the canoe with me were all drowned, and I could not help feeling how fate seemed to be against all those who were in any danger with me. First Fumo, then Wanda, then Chaka and Dala, and now these three Balaba, all dead, but I, who had undergone more perils than all of them, was still alive.
As I was thinking of this a feeling of thankfulness to God for my preservation took the place of despondency, and aided by Teta I sat up and looked round. I saw that the rapids up which we had been dragged were only a portion of the ascent which had to be made; for on the other side of a pool of still water were a series of vertical falls about twenty feet high, and men were busy hauling the canoes over the rocks that divided them.
I was now put in another canoe and paddled across the pool, with my head resting in Teta’s lap, who had now removed the cloth with which she had tied me into the canoe, and which had formed the principal portion of her dress. Under her direction I was carefully carried up the rocks, and put into another canoe, in which we soon reached Kifura’s village, the principal village among the Balaba.
Here Teta carried me to her own hut, where she nursed and tended me carefully. Though my recovery was slow and tedious, I was at length restored to health and strength. As soon as I was able to go about I turned all my attention to get away and, if possible, descend the river and again get in communication with my friends Karema, Tom, and Jack Sprat. I found, however, that my every movement was so jealously watched that it was impossible to think of getting away; and when I confided my intentions to Teta she said it would be no good trying to escape, but I had much better sit down quietly where I was and trust that in time Kifura would let me go.
I asked if there was any chance of people coming up to the Balaba to trade. She said they never allowed people living below the rapids to come above them, and by that means they managed to keep the whole trade of the river in their own hands.