We found two fine boys about twelve and fourteen years old, both in a raging fever. David, I should have said, had come provided with a few medicines, which he thought most likely to be of use, and he now sent all the people out of the house except the mother of the boys and our friend. “Tell him,” he said to Timbo, “that he must get me some pure water.” This was easily procured from a stream which came rushing down the side of the mountain at no great distance. David gave each of the boys a cooling draught, and made their parents understand that they were to take no food except such as he ordered. He watched by the children till they at length fell into a profound sleep, charging Igubo not to allow anybody to enter the house. David then proposed that we should take a turn through the village, of which we had not seen much on our previous visit. I need not again describe the village. We had not got far when we met several slaves bringing us a number of fowls, some bunches of plantains, and baskets of cassava. These they placed at our feet with a message from the chief to say that we were welcome, for he had heard of our brave deeds. We of course received them, and they were carried to a sort of verandah in front of Igubo’s house, while through Timbo we returned our thanks to the chief. He himself soon afterwards made his appearance, followed by several attendants. Unless by his anklets and necklace, and the rich tattooing on his breast, he was not to be distinguished from the rest of the people. His only clothing was a piece of fine matting, worn round the waist in the form of a kilt.
David was unwilling to leave the boys, and we therefore consented to remain till the following day. They were then somewhat better, but when we proposed going their father entreated that we would remain. David explained that he was wanted at home, that one of our party was sick, and that if Igubo would follow his directions the boys would probably recover.
“Dat’s de bery t’ing dey will not do,” said Timbo. “He say, if you go, de boys go too. We make carriage and take dem.”
“The best thing, probably, that can be done,” said David; and we accordingly agreed to let the boys be brought with us.
The litters were soon constructed, and were by David’s advice covered over thickly with branches of trees, so as completely to shade them from the heat of the sun. Eight stout fellows undertook to carry them, and all things being ready, we bade farewell to the chief, who, however, seemed rather angry at our departure.
“He no good man,” said Timbo, as we came away. “Better go dan stay. I find out he take elephant’s tusks and de meat de oder day, but he no tell us, lest we ask to have dem again.”
We considered it wise not to say anything about the elephant’s tusks, and, glad to get out of the village, we proceeded homewards.
“Whom have you brought?” exclaimed Leo, when he saw us arrive.
When we told him, he and Natty expressed themselves well pleased at having some companions. “We will look after them,” said Leo.
“And I will teach them to read,” exclaimed Natty. “I hope they will not want to be going away, though. We must nurse them in the meantime, and try and get them well.”