In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

I need scarcely say that I looked out anxiously all the day in the hope that Stanley or some of our other friends might pass in that direction on a hunting expedition. Natty asked how it was they had not come to look for us. I accounted for it from their naturally supposing that if we had not lost our lives, we were detained somewhere on the lake, and that they would therefore search for us there.

Natty grew no worse, but still he did not appear to gain strength. Often he urged me to set off without him; but to this I would not consent. The journey might occupy me two or even three days, and it would take as long a time to return to him. “No,” I replied; “until you are well enough to move, I will stay by you.” I thought that if I could but procure some variety of food, he might improve faster; but I had now only five or six charges of powder left, and I was anxious to preserve these for any emergency. One of my fears was, that from so frequently shooting the birds in the neighbourhood of the pool, they might grow wary of me. However, they did not appear to be more alarmed when I came near them than at first. Sometimes I went in the evening, sometimes in the morning, and never failed to bring down three or four birds. I think that I must have frightened away the lions, for I never saw them again, though I heard their roars in the distance. I suspect that they waited to visit the pool till they saw me take my departure.

I was one day about half a mile from the baobab-tree, when I saw, perched on a bush near me, a little bird about the size of a chaffinch, of a light grey colour. It seemed in no way afraid of me, but continued chattering and twittering in a state of great excitement. Then it got up and flew backwards and forwards before me, apparently endeavouring to attract my attention. As I approached it flew on a little in front. I followed it. On seeing this, it went on and on in a wavy course, a few yards before me, alighting every now and then on a bush, and looking back to see if I was still following, all the time keeping up an incessant twitter. Though I had no idea at the time of its object, I continued following it. At length I saw a short distance ahead the huge trunk of a fallen tree. The bird appeared still more excited; and when I happened to turn aside, apparently to take an opposite direction, it came flying back, and twittering louder than before, trying, I was sure, to make me turn in the direction of the tree. I accordingly did so, when, satisfied, the bird went on as before. It now hovered for a moment over a part of the trunk at which it pointed with its bill, and it then turned and pitched on the top of a decayed branch which rose in the air out of the trunk, and fluttered its wings and twittered still more violently than ever. There it sat while I examined the trunk. I was not long in discovering a hollow surrounded by wax, and the idea at once occurred to me that this was a bees’ nest, and that the bird was the honey-bird of which I had heard. On a further examination I was convinced that I was right. I therefore collected a number of dried leaves and twigs, in order to light a fire, and with the smoke to drive the bees from their habitation. I also manufactured some torches, which might assist me in the operation, and would, I hoped, enable me to defend myself should the bees take to flight and attack me. As soon as I had got everything ready, I lighted a fire under the nest, and taking a torch, waved it about in front of it. No bees came out, and I began to fancy that the nest must be empty. After a time, however, on looking in, I found that the effect of the smoke had been to stupify the bees. I therefore, without fear, began to cut out the nest. It consisted of cells of wax full of honey. The difficulty was to carry it. However, as the wax was tolerably hard, I tied it up in a large handkerchief I fortunately had in my pocket, in which I hoped at all events to be able to carry home a good quantity of honey for poor Natty, trusting that it would be beneficial to his health. While employed in putting it up, I observed the honey-bird fluttering about in a state of great agitation close to me. “Oh, I almost forgot you,” I said, turning to the bird. “You deserve some honey;” and accordingly, taking some from the nest, I placed it on the trunk of the fallen tree. Instantly the bird dashed down, and began eating it with evident delight. As soon as he had finished the portion I had bestowed on him, he rose and began fluttering about as before in front of me. I whistled to him, to try and induce him to come with me, but I have since heard that whistling encourages the bird, and makes him more eager to go off in search of another nest. “As you will not come with me, I must go and see what you want now,” I said to the bird, following the way he led. In vain I whistled. On he went in a wavy course, as before, directly in front of me. I rather doubted, however, should he lead me to another honeycomb, whether I could carry it. Still, I did not like to miss the opportunity of obtaining what might prove so valuable. I therefore went on in the direction the honey-bird led. I could not help thinking of tales I had read in my boyhood of kind fairies or good spirits leading travellers who had lost their way to some enchanted castle, where a comfortable couch and an ample banquet was prepared for them. Perhaps the honey-bird may have been the origin of such tales. Sometimes, indeed, an evil fairy has appeared, and beguiled thoughtless travellers to their destruction. After the conduct of my honey-bird I had no doubt about his good intentions. I had gone on for twenty minutes or more, when the bird pitched on the bough of another decayed tree still standing upright. Seeing me approach, it began fluttering about, and pointing its beak towards a hole some way above my head. “I should have thought you might have known I could not reach that,” I said, looking up at him. “However, I will do my best to accomplish the feat.” The quickest way, I thought, would be to build a platform on which to stand whilst cutting out the honey. I accordingly chopped down some stout poles and drove them into the earth, securing cross-pieces with vines to the trunk. I thus formed an erection similar to a builder’s scaffolding, and now climbing to the top, I made another small platform directly under the entrance to the nest. I then proceeded as before, by burning leaves and twigs, and having thoroughly smoked the unfortunate bees, took possession of their habitation and store of food. With this further supply I descended, and having given the honey-bird a share, put the remainder into the handkerchief. I had to make it more capacious, by fastening a number of vines round it, so as to form a sort of basket. “Well, Master Honey-bird, if you will lead me to another nest, I think I could manage to carry it in this fashion,” I said to my little conductor, who seemed to understand me, and off he flew as merrily as before. This time he did not appear quite so steady in his course. Suddenly he made his way towards a small wood which I saw in the distance. I followed him, and every now and then he stopped and looked back to see if I was coming. It was a tiring walk, for the sun struck down with unusual heat after the rain, and I began to think that I should have acted more wisely had I returned at once with my sweet stores. Still, I did not wish to disappoint the honey-bird, as I was in hopes he would on another day be on the look-out for me, and help me to get a further quantity when we might need it.

At last the wood was reached, when, making his way into it, I saw him pitch on a bough as before; but the trees were small, and I could see none round likely to contain a cavity in which bees would have formed a nest. Still, I thought I would examine the spot, supposing that perhaps some decayed trunk of a fallen tree might lie beneath. I was advancing rapidly, when, to my horror, I saw before me a pair of glaring eyes, and there stood within the thicket an enormous lion with a huge mane. The king of beasts had just aroused himself apparently from his noonday rest, and was stretching himself, wondering who the bold intruder could be who had ventured into his domains. I gazed at the lion, and the lion gazed at me. I know I did not like the appearance of the monstrous brute. My rifle was loaded with ball, but still I dreaded lest, should I fire and not kill him outright, he might yet attack me. I therefore, keeping my face towards him, slowly retired, hoping earnestly that he would go to sleep again, and allow me to retreat unmolested. Still, from his attitude, I had some doubts whether or not he was going to spring at me. I dared not take my eye off him, for I knew that my best prospect of escaping was to continue facing him boldly. I suspect that he had gone into the wood to indulge in a nap, after having taken a full meal off some unfortunate gnu or antelope. I was very thankful when I at length managed to get to the edge of the wood without stumbling. I continued to retreat backwards, however, after this, fearing lest the lion might pounce out upon me. Every moment I expected to see his enormous head and shaggy mane appear amid the bushes. It would have been a very grand sight, but a very disagreeable one. As I retreated through the wood the treacherous honey-bird flew out also, twittering as before, just as if he had not played me a scurvy trick. “What, do you not like the last honeycomb I showed you?” he seemed to say. I began to think that he was an evil spirit instead of a kind fairy; but yet, perhaps, after all, he was as much astonished at finding a lion instead of a honeycomb as I was. At all events, he appeared regardless of the danger into which he had led me, and not aware that I might have shot him dead in a moment. I could not at the time account for the trick he had played me; but I have since heard that such is not at all an uncommon occurrence, and that honey-birds frequently take the natives who are in pursuit of honey in the same way up to some savage monster.

Having got to a considerable distance from the wood, I ventured to turn round and walk forwards, at the same time very frequently casting anxious glances over my shoulder to ascertain whether the lion was coming in pursuit of me. In vain the honey-bird tried to draw me off on one side. I declined after this accompanying my little friend any further.

I had taken the bearings of the baobab-tree grove, so that I could easily find it. When at length I reached it Natty was in a state of great agitation at my long absence, but was delighted with the delicious honey I had brought him.

“Perhaps the honey-birds want to have the wild beasts killed, and are not aware that when people are only in search of honey they are not prepared to encounter a lion or a rhinoceros,” he remarked, when I described my adventure.

He might have been incredulous about my account, but I showed him the honey-bird, which had perched on a branch near us; and, as soon as I took out the honey, down it came and ate some of it with the greatest confidence. I then felt convinced, from his unsuspicious behaviour, that he had had no intention of leading me into danger.

We immediately ate some of the honey spread on the mushrooms. I wished that I could find some means of stewing those curious productions of nature, for they would he, I was sure, a valuable addition to our fare. Poor Natty still continued very weak. I did my best to forage for him, but, in spite of my exertions, the only food I could procure was not satisfactory for a sick person. As to leaving him, the more I thought of it the more dangerous for him did it appear. Even were there nothing to apprehend from the attacks of wild beasts, he was too weak to obtain even water for himself, and we had no means of preserving the food I obtained for any length of time. I should not have cared so much for myself, but I felt all the time how alarmed our friends would be on our account, besides which I felt very anxious to go in search of Leo and his companion. We had reason to be thankful that we were in so sheltered a spot, as for several days in succession violent storms burst over us, heavy downfalls of rain flooding the lower ground in our neighbourhood.

My honey-bird led me in the interval to more bees’ nests, and I got an ample supply of mushrooms; but they, as may be supposed, were not sufficient to support life. The birds, getting an abundance of water elsewhere, no longer visited the pool, and I became greatly afraid of starving.