As soon as we were left alone, we fell asleep, being very tired after our night’s work. We must have slept soundly for some hours, when we were awakened by some people talking loudly near the bottom of our tree. I thought that these would be the people whom the chief had promised to send with food, and would have at once gone to the hole to see who the people were; but Pipa caught hold of me and prevented me from doing so, and made signs for us to be silent and listen.
We soon made out that the speakers were some Bateke in chase of us, and that our landing had been found out through the vanity of the chief. Proud of the brass-bound, antique weapon obtained from us, he had not been able to refrain from firing it. The unaccustomed sound had brought a number of the Bateke to the spot; for it was known that no one in the neighbourhood possessed a gun besides that which we had stolen.
Pipa listened eagerly to make out if the chief had betrayed us. He had made an excuse that he supposed we were people in pursuit of fugitives, and the gun had been given him as a pledge of amity and a token that we were sent out by our master. The Bateke were consulting as to what course they should take in pursuit, and as far as we could make out the river was the only avenue to safety left open.
After some time the Bateke who had aroused us started off again. Soon after a messenger arrived from our friendly chief to say how sorry he was his indiscretion had betrayed that we had landed, and to lead us to a place where a canoe and provisions were in readiness.
We did not wait long before following the messenger. He led us by wild-beast tracks and hippopotamus paths to a creek where the canoe was. We immediately put out and recommenced our voyage down-stream; and drifting and paddling during the night, we halted for the day on a small uninhabited island.
Nothing occurred to frighten or disturb us. At sunset we again launched our frail vessel; but we soon found that the stream was increasing in rapidity, and hearing the sound of falling water ahead, both Duma and Pipa said we must now abandon the canoe and take to the shore.
We accordingly put into the southern bank, just missing, owing to the force of the current, a little creek that we had been aiming for; but catching hold of some branches, we began to land our scanty belongings. I was carrying away the paddles, which we intended to take with us as weapons, or in case we might be fortunate enough to find another canoe below the rapids, when I heard a splash and a cry. Rushing to the bank, I saw that one of my companions had fallen overboard and that the other had let go the tree which he or she had been holding on to, and that both were rapidly drifting with the canoe down-stream.
I was powerless to assist. Forgetting my own safety, I made my way as well as I could along the bank, only to arrive, long after the catastrophe had occurred, at the head of the falls, over which they must have been swept.
Though it did not seem probable, I imagined there might possibly be a chance of their surviving, and with great difficulty made my way down the rocks by the side of the river, and at the foot of the falls I cried long and loudly, “Duma! Pipa!” No answer came in response to my shouts save the scream of some night birds which I scared and the howl of a prowling hyena. When the rising sun put an end to a long night of agonizing suspense, I found that the bruised and battered bodies of my two friends and the broken remains of the canoe had been cast ashore almost at my feet.
I think now my brain and mind must have given way for a time, for I have only an indistinct memory of being recaptured and bound and taken back to the care of the old hag, my master’s mother, who was a perfect mistress of the art of ingenious torture. I often fancied that I must have fallen into the hands of friends. It is still a wonder to me how I survived what I must have undergone at this time, as several large and ugly scars prove it was not a dream but an absolute reality.