saying that it was not he but the other boy who “ got fright
too much.”
As the black sergeant was nominally our guide, I asked
him for his views on the situation. He said that when he got
back to the camp the boys were drunk, which I daresay was
true, but left the explanation of why he went back out of the
affair. I pointed this out, and Bum, the Head man, charged
into the gap with the statement that Black boy had got “ sick
in him tummick, he done got fever bad bad too much,” and
so he and the rest had to escort Black boy back to camp.
This statement, though a contribution to the knowledge of
the reason of the return, was manifestly untrue ; because
Black boy, who did not know English, sat laughing and
talking at the fire during this moving recital of his woes.
Those men should have rehearsed their explanations, and then
Black boy could have done a good rousing writhe to support
poor Bum’s statement.
I closed the palaver promptly with a brief but lurid sketch
of my opinion on the situation, and ordered food, for not
having had a thing save that cup of sour claret since 6.30 A.M.,
and it being now 11 P.M., I felt sinkings. Then arose another
beautiful situation before me. It seems when Cook and
Monrovia got back into camp this morning Master Cook was
seized with one of those attacks of a desire to manage things
that produce such. awful results in the African servant, and
sent all the beef and rice down to Buea to be cooked, because
there was no water here to cook it. Therefore the men have
got nothing to eat. I had a few tins of my own food and so
gave them some, and they became as happy as kings in a
few minutes, listening and shouting over the terrible adventures
of Xenia, who is posing as the Hero of the Great Cameroon.
I get some soda-water from the two bottles left and some
tinned herring, and then write out two notes to Herr Liebert
asking him to send me three more demijohns of water, and
some beef and rice from the store, promising faithfully to pay
for them on my return.
I would not prevent those men of mine from going up that
peak above me after their touching conduct to-day. Oh ! no ;
not for worlds, dear things.
CHAPTER X X V I
THÉ GREAT PEAK OF CAMEROONS— {Continued)
Setting forth how the Voyager for a second time reaches the S.E. crater,
with some account of the pleasures incidental to camping out in the
said crater.
September 24th.— Lovely morning, the grey-white mist in the
forest makes it like a dream of Fairyland, each moss-grown tree
stem heavily gemmed with dewdrops. A t 5.30 I stir the boys,
for Sasu, the sergeant, says he must go back to his military
duties. The men think we are all going back with him as he is
our only guide, but I send three of them down with orders to go
back to Victoria— two being of the original set I started with.
They are surprised and disgusted at being sent home, but they
have got “ hot foot,” and something wrong in the usual seat
of African internal disturbances, their “ tummicks,” and I am
not thinking of starting a sanatorium for abdominally-
afflicted Africans in that crater plain above, Black boy is
the other boy returned, I do not want another of his attacks.
They go, and this leaves me in the forest camp with Kefalla,
Xenia, and’ Cook, and we start expecting the water sent for
by Monrovia boy yesterday forenoon. There are an abominable
lot of bees about ; they do not give one a moment’s pèace,
getting beneath the waterproof sheets over the bed, and pretending
they can’t get out and forthwith losing their tempers,
which is imbecile, because the whole four sides of the affair
are broad open.
The ground, bestrewn with leaves and dried wood, is a mass
of large flies rather like our common house-fly, but both butterflies
and beetles seem scarce ; but I confess I do not feel up