fellow friendly tribesfolk, yet they like to keep a little some
thing belonging to them as a memento. This touching trait
in their character I learnt from W ik i; and, though its to t eir
credit, under the circumstances, still its an unpleasant
practice when they hang the remains in the bedroom you
occupy, particularly if the bereavement in your host s farm y
has been recent. I did not venture to prowl round Efoua;
but slid the bark door aside and looked out to get a breath ot
fresh air. .. .
It was a perfect night, and no mosquitoes. The town, wa led
in on every side by the great cliff of high black-forest, looked
very wild as it showed in the starlight, its low, savage-built bark
huts, in two hard rows, closed at either end by a guard-house.
In both guard-houses there was a fire burning, and in their
flickering glow showed the forms of sleeping men. Nothing
was moving save the goats, which are always brought into the
special house for them in the middle of the town, to keep
them from the leopards, which roam from dusk to dawn.
Dawn found us stirring, me getting my tea, and the rest of
the party their chop, and binding up anew the loads with
Wiki’s fresh supple bush-ropes. Kiva amused me much ;
during our march his costume was exceeding scant, but when
we reached the towns he took from his bag garments, and
attired himself so resplendently that I feared the charm of his
appearance would lead me into one of those dreadful wife
palavers which experience had taught me of old to dread :
and in the morning time he always devoted some time to repacking.
I gave a big dash to both chiefs, and they came out
with us, most civilly, to the end of their first plantations ; and
then we took farewell of each other, with many expressions
of hope on both sides that we should meet again, and many
warnings from them about the dissolute and depraved
character of the other towns we should pass through before
we reached the Rembwe.
Our second day’s march was infinitely worse than the first,
for it lay along a series of abruptly shaped- hills with deep
ravines between them ; each ravine had its swamp and each
swamp its river. This bit of country must be absolutely impassable
for any human being, black or white, except during
the dry season. There were representatives of the three chief
forms of the West African bog. The large deep swamps
were best to deal with, because they make a break in the
forest, and the sun can come down on their surface and bake
a crust, over which you can go, if you go quickly. From experience
in Devonian bogs, I knew pace was our best chance,
and I fancy I earned one of my nicknames among the Fans on
these. . The Fans went across all right with a rapid striding
glide, but the other men erred from excess of caution,, and while
hesitating as to where was the next safe place to plant their
feet, the place that they were standing on went in with a glug.
Moreover, they would keep together, which was more than the
crust would stand. The portly Pagan and the Passenger gave
us a fine job in one bog, by sinking in close together. Some
of us slashed off boughs of trees and tore off handfuls of hard
canna leaves, while others threw them round the sinking-
victims to form a sort of raft, and then with the aid of bush-
rope, of course, they were hauled out.
The worst sort of swamp, and the most frequent hereabouts,
is the deep narrow one that has no crust on, because it is too
much shaded by the forest. The slopes of the ravines too are
usually covered with an undergrowth of shenja, beautiful
beyond description, but right bad to go through. I soon
learnt to dread seeing the man in front going down hill, or to
find myself doing so, for it meant that within the next half
hour we should be battling through a patch of shenja. I believe
there are few effects that can compare with the beauty of
them, with the golden sunlight coming down through the
upper forest’s branches on to their exquisitely shaped, hard,
dark green leaves, making them look as if they were sprinkled
with golden sequins. Their long green stalks, which support
the leaves and bear little bunches of crimson berries, take
every graceful curve imaginable, and the whole affair is
free from insects ; and when you have said this, you have
said all there is to say in favour of shenja, for those long
green stalks of theirs are as tough as twisted wire, and the
graceful curves go to the making of a net, which rises round
you shoulder high, and the hard green leaves when , lying on
the ground are fearfully slippery. It is not nice going down
T 2