had now also acquired a small dug-out canoe as tender,
and a large fishing-net.
About 4 A.M. in the moonlight we started to drop down
river on the tail of the land breeze, and as I observed Obanjo
wanted to sleep I offered to steer. After putting me through
an examination in practical seamanship, and passing me, he
gladly accepted my offer, handed over the tiller which stuck
out across my bamboo staging, and went and curled himself
up, falling sound asleep among the crew in less time than it
takes to write. On'the other nights we spent on this voyage
I had no need to offer to steer ; he handed over charge to me
as a matter of course, and as I prefer night to day in Africa,
I enjoyed it. Indeed, much as I have enjoyed life in Africa,
I do not think I ever enjoyed it to the full as I did
on those nights dropping down the Rembwe. The great,
black, winding river with a pathway in its midst of frosted
silver where the moonlight struck i t : on each side the ink-
black mangrove walls, and above them the band of star and
moonlit heavens that the walls of mangrove allowed one to
see. Forward rose the form of our sail, idealised from bed-
sheetdom to g lo ry ; and the little red glow of our cooking
fire gave a single note of warm colour to the cold light of the
moon. Three or four times during the second night, while
I was steering along by the south bank, I found the mangrove
wall thinner, and standing up, looked through the network
of their roots and stems on to what seemed like plains,
acres upon acres' in extent, of polished silver— more
specimens of those awful slime lagoons, one of which, before
we reached Ndorko, had so very nearly collected me. I
watched them, as we leisurely stole past, with a sort of
fascination. On the second night, towards the dawn, I had
the great joy of seeing Mount Okoneto, away to the S.W.,
first showing moonlit, and then taking the colours of the
dawn before they reached us down below. Ah m e ! give me
a West African river and a canoe for sheer good pleasure.
Drawbacks, you say? Well, yes, but where are there not
drawbacks ? The only drawbacks on those Rembwd nights
were the series of horrid frights I got by steering on
to tree shadows and thinking they were mud banks, or trees
themselves, so black and solid did they seem. I never roused
the watch fortunately, but got her off the shadow gallantly
single-handed every time, and called myself a fool instead of
getting called one. My nautical friends carp at me for getting
on shadows, but I beg them to consider before they judge
me, whether they have ever steered at night down a river quite
unknown to them an unhandy canoe, with a bed-sheet sail,
by the light of the moon. And what with my having a theory
of my own regarding the proper way to take a vessel round
a corner, and what with having to keep the wind in the bed-
sheet where the bed-sheet would hold it, it’s a wonder to me
I did not cast that vessel away, or go and damage Africa.
By daylight the Rembwe scenery was certainly not so
lovely, and might be slept through without a pang. It had
monotony, without having enough of it to amount to
grandeur. Every now and again we came to villages, each of
which was situated on a heap of clay_ and sandy soil, presumably
the end of a spit of land running out into the
mangrove swamp fringing the river. Every village we saw
we went alongside and had a chat with, and tried to look up
cargo in the proper way. One village in particular did we
have a lively time at. Obanjo had a wife and home there,
likewise a large herd of goats, some of which he was desirous
of taking down with us to sell at Gaboon. It was a pleasant-
looking village, with a clean yellow beach which most of the
houses faced. But it had ramifications in the interior. I
being very lazy, did not go ashore, but watched the pantomime
from the bamboo staging. The whole flock of goats
enter at right end of stage, and tear violently across the
scene, disappearing at left. Two minutes elapse. Obanjo
and his gallant crew enter at right hand of stage, leg it
like lamplighters across front, and disappear at left. Fearful
pow-wow behind the scenes. Five minutes elapse. Enter
goats at right as before, followed by Obanjo and company as
before, and so on da capo. It was more like a fight I once
saw between the armies of Macbeth and Macduff than anything
I have seen before or since ; only our Rembwe play was
better put on, more supers, and noise, and all that sort of
thing, you know. It was a spirited performance I assure you
Z 2