some fifteen feet or so below ground level, at the bottom of a
bag-shaped game pit.
It is at these times you realise the blessing of a good thick
skirt. Had I paid heed to the advice of many people in
England, who ought to have known better, and did not do it
themselves, and adopted masculine garments, I should have
been spiked to the bone, and done for. Whereas, save for a
good many bruises, here I was with the fulness of my skirt
tucked under me, sitting on nine ebony spikes some twelve
inches long, in comparative comfort, howling lustily to be
hauled out. The Duke came along first, and looked down at
me. I said, “ Get a bush-rope, and haul me out.” He grunted
and sat down on a log. The Passenger came next, and
he looked down. “ You kill ? ” says he. “ Not much,” say I ;
“ get a bush-rope and haul me out.” “ No fit,” says he, and
sat down on the log. Presently, however, Kiva and Wiki came
up, and Wiki went and selected the one and only bush-rope
suitable to haul an English lady, of my exact complexion,
age, and size, out of that one particular pit. They seemed
rare round there from the time he took ; and I was just casting
about in my mind as to what method would be best to employ
in getting up the smooth, yellow, sandy-clay, incurved walls,
when he arrived with it, and I was out in a twinkling, and very
much ashamed of myself, until Silence, who was then leading,
disappeared through the path before us with a despairing yell.
Each man then pulled the skin cover off his gun lock, carefully
looked to see if things there were all right and ready
loosened his knife in its snake-skin sheath; and then we set
about hauling poor Silence out, binding him up where necessary
with cool green leaves ; for he, not having a skirt, had got
a good deal frayed at the edges on those spikes. Then we
closed up, for the Fans said these pits were symptomatic of
the immediate neighbourhood of Efoua. We sounded our
ground, as we went into a thick plantain patch, through
which we could see a great clearing in the forest, and the low
huts of a big town. We charged into it, going right through
the guard-house gateway, at one end, in single file, as its
narrowness obliged us, and into the street-shaped town, and
formed ourselves into as imposing a looking party as possible
in the centre of the street. The Efouerians regarded us with
much amazement, and the women and children cleared off into
the huts, and took stock of us through the door-holes. There
were but few men in the town, the majority, we subsequently
learnt, being away after elephants. But there were quite sufficient
left to make a crowd in a ring round us. Fortunately
Wiki and Kiva’s friends were present, and we were soon
in another word-fog, but not so bad a one as that at M’fett-a ;
indeed Efoua struck me, from the first, favourably; it was, for
one thing, much cleaner than most Fan towns I have been in.
As a result of the confabulation, one of the chiefs had his
house cleared out for me. It consisted of two apartments
almost bare of everything save a pile of boxes, and a small
fire on the floor, some little bags hanging from the roof poles,
and a general supply of insects. The inner room contained
nothing save a hard plank, raised on four short pegs from the
earth floor.
I shook hands with and thanked the chief, and directed
that all the loads should be placed inside the huts. I must
admit my good friend was a villainous-looking savage, but he
behaved most hospitably and kindly. From what I had
heard of the Fan, I deemed it advisable not to make any
present to him at once, but to base my claim on him on the
right of an amicable stranger to hospitality. When I had
seen all the baggage stowed I went outside and sat at the
doorway on a rather rickety mushroom-shaped stool in the
cool evening air, waiting for my tea which I wanted bitterly.
Pagan came up' as usual for tobacco to buy chop with ; and
after giving it to him, I and the two chiefs, with Gray Shift
acting as interpreter, had a long chat. O f course the first
question was, Why was I there ?
I told them I was on my way to the factory of H. Snd C.
on the Rembwe. They said they had heard of “ Ugumu,” i.e.y
Messrs Hatton and Cookson, but they did not trade direct
with them, passing their trade into towns nearer to the
Rembwe, which were swindling bad towns, they said; and
they got the idea stuck in their heads that I was a trader, a
sort of bagman for the firm, and Gray Shirt could not get this
idea out, so off one of their majesties went and returned with