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 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST, 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://archive.org/details/storiestoldinafrOOjeph 
 
STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN 
 FOREST 
 
 BY GROWN-UP CHILDREN OF AFRICA. 
 
 by vj e 
 
 A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON, 
 
 One of Mr. Stanley's officers; and Author of "Emin Pasha and the 
 Rebellion at the Equator.'' 
 
 With numerous Illustrations from drawings by 
 WALTER W. BUCKLEY. 
 
 l^ ' 
 
 LONDON: 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, 
 
 LIMITED, 
 
 %s\. Dunstan's i^ousr, 
 
 Fetter Lane, Fleet Street. 
 1S93. • 
 
CHISWICK PRESS:— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCERY LANE. 
 
I DEDICATE 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK 
 
 TO 
 
 MY TWENTY-NINE NEPHEWS AND NIECES ! 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 N offering this little book to the public I fee! 
 that I ought also to offer with it a short 
 explanation and apology. 
 
 An explanation of how it came to be 
 written at all, and an apology for calling it a book, when 
 it is scarcely more than a few little sketches strung 
 together. 
 
 It was written originally as a series of articles for a 
 children's magazine. 
 
 When I was travelling last year in America I was asked 
 by an editor of a magazine to write some short articles on 
 Africa for children. At his rather urgent request I con- 
 sented, and wrote the following little sketches, most of 
 which are taken from some of the common Zanzibar 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 stories such as are told by the men in almost every 
 African caravan. 
 
 For various reasons I withdrew them from publication 
 in the magazine, but at the request of some of my friends 
 who liked them I now publish them in the form of this 
 little book. 
 
 ii, St. James's Place, London, 
 September, 1892. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introductory i 
 
 The Story of Mahomet 22 
 
 The Story of the Lion and Mr. Hunger 37 
 
 The Story of the Leopardess and the Dog 51 
 
 The Story of Kintu 68 
 
 The Story of Daoud the Fisherman 87 
 
 The Story of Kieindi 116 
 
 The Story of the Cat and the Rat 145 
 
LIST OF FULL-PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 TAGE 
 
 Fort Bodo 8 
 
 Cornfields round Fort Bodo 1 1 
 
 Mr. Stanley christened them Adam and Eve 12 
 
 " Sometimes I would lend her my looking glass " 19 
 
 " I can see her now walking proudly through the camp " ... 19 
 
 " Telling stories on Sunday afternoon" 31 
 
 " He dwelt in a dark cave "' ( frontispiece) 40 
 
 "' Not yet,' feebly roared the lion'' 47 
 
 " The lion killed by Mr. Hunger" 48 
 
 "She lived in a cave with her two cubs" 54 
 
 "A hyena, a fox, and a dog stood before her" 55 
 
 " Kintu and his wife brought with them to Uganda a cow, a 
 
 sheep, and a chicken " 72 
 
 " Seated on the grass, they saw a circle of old men clad in white 
 
 robes " 82 
 
 Saphoom and his wives 96 
 
 " The Stranger glided softly into the room " 109 
 
 " The slaves told them stories of far-away lands " 123 
 
 " The boat drifted out to sea " 131 
 
 " So, drawn by the fishes, the boat sailed back to Kilindi" . . 138 
 
 " They fed upon nuts and wild fruits and roots" 163 
 
 "They found that they had become monkeys" ...... 163 
 
STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN 
 
 FOREST 
 
 BY GROWN-UP CHILDREN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 OME time ago, when I was in America, I 
 was asked to write some stories for children. 
 I hardly knew what to write about, for 
 American children know so much more 
 than English children, and therefore it is a good deal 
 harder to write for them. I recollect telling some stories 
 to some little American children who constantly wanted to 
 know the reason for everything I told them ; and that was 
 just what I was not always able to do. 
 
 My first experience of the precocity of American children 
 
2 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 was, I remember, on board ship on my way to the United 
 States. I was watching a sailor drawing water in a bucket 
 from the sea, and asked a bystander what he was doing. 
 A little American boy of eight years old heard my 
 question and answered in a pitying tone, " Oh, don't you 
 know ? We are now in the Gulf Stream, that sailor is 
 drawing water in order to take the temperature and write 
 it down in the Log Book." I immediately "took a back 
 seat," feeling ashamed that my ignorance should have 
 been so apparent to that small boy. 
 
 And so I asked myself " What can I write about in 
 order to satisfy American children?" I cannot tell them 
 stories of " ologies " and " isms," as cousin Cram-child or 
 Professor Huxley would. 
 
 But the idea of writing something for children has been 
 put into my head. So I will try if I can to interest 
 English children by telling them about the life of a little 
 band of men who were closed in for many months in a 
 great dark forest in the heart of Africa. 
 
 Yes, shut off far away from civilization and home, know- 
 ing nothing of what was going on in the outside world, 
 surrounded by hostile tribes of savage cannibals and 
 hordes of vicious, spiteful little dwarfs, who were ever 
 ready to attack, with their poisoned arrows, any one whom 
 they found wandering far from our camp. 
 
INTR OD UCTOR I '. 3 
 
 1 might tell you about our life there, of our work, 
 and how we cleared the land and planted Indian corn 
 and beans ; of some of our experiences with these spiteful 
 little pigmies, and of the troops of elephants which used to 
 
 " WE .MADE AND MENDED OUR CLOTHES AND BOOTS." 
 
 come into our fields at night to eat and destroy our crops. 
 I can tell you also of how we built our Fort ; how we made 
 and mended our clothes and boots ; how we listened to 
 the strange allegorical legends told us by our men (our 
 
4 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 faithful Negroes), and of all that we hoped and feared and 
 suffered. How would this do ? 
 
 Well, I will begin from the time when we first came to 
 that part of the country, and I hope before long I shall 
 be able to interest you young people, and give you a 
 glimpse of the hard-working adventurous life we led in 
 that great forest, far away from home. 
 
 Our party consisted of Mr. Stanley with his little fox 
 terrier dog Randy, who was the faithful companion of 
 his master. Then there were Captain Stairs, Captain 
 Nelson, Dr. Parke and myself (four young Englishmen who 
 had gone out as officers under Mr. Stanley). 
 
 With us were about 200 black men ; not like the Negroes 
 in America, who have been spoilt by civilization, and give 
 themselves airs of equality with the white men — I may 
 almost say of superiority. No ! our Negroes were not like 
 them, their faces were similar, but their hearts were quite 
 different. Neither did they dress in fine European clothes, 
 as the American Negroes do, but they dressed only in the 
 white or coloured cotton clothes they were accustomed to 
 in their own country — and very nice they looked in them, 
 too, for they were far prettier and more suitable to the hot 
 climate. 
 
 Our Negroes were simple-hearted, good-natured, bois- 
 terous people, who looked up to us as their head and loved 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 5 
 
 to work with us, for they knew that we cared for them, and 
 trusted them and treated them kindly. They used to work 
 hard for us and bring us food, and then when work was 
 over and the day was done, they would come and sit round 
 the camp fires with us as we smoked our pipes in the 
 evenings, gossiping and talking and dancing as merrily as 
 if they were children. 
 
 They told us stories about the Arab caravans with 
 which they had travelled ; about the wonderful countries 
 and people they had seen in their wanderings, or about 
 their wives and homes in the far-off island of Zanzibar. 
 
 They were a primitive, kindly, ignorant people, who 
 did not know a word of English and could not read. They 
 were never able even to catch our names, and so they 
 invented nick-names which they thought suited us. 
 
 Mr. Stanley they called Bula Matari, or the Rock- 
 breaker, because years before when he was cutting the 
 roads by the river Congo he used to make his men break 
 stones for paving. They called Captain Stairs, who had 
 our big Maxim gun under his charge, Bwana Mazinga, or 
 the Master of the Cannon. Captain Nelson, who was a big, 
 tall fellow, they named Pandalamona, or the Big-Strong 
 man. Doctor Parke received the nick-name of Bwana 
 Doctari, or Mr. Doctor ; while I was named Bubarika, or 
 the Chetah, because they said I w r as so headstrong and 
 
6 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 rash. Each European had his nick-name and was always 
 known to our Negroes by that name. I remember hearing 
 on the Congo there was a white man who had rather a 
 bad temper and used to make a tremendous noise when 
 he blew his nose. Well, the Negroes immediately named 
 him Barragourm, or the War Horn. Sometimes, early on 
 a still morning, when he came out of his tent, he could 
 be heard in the distance, blowing his nose, and the men 
 would immediately call to each other, " Look out, boys ! 
 Mind what you are about ! Here comes the War Horn ! " 
 And so, except among ourselves, we never heard our own 
 names. 
 
 But, dear me ! How forgetful I am, I have not told 
 you yet how it was that we came to be in Africa at 
 all. 
 
 Well, we had gone out there to rescue a brave man 
 called Emin Pasha, who was surrounded by hostile tribes 
 in a distant country on the river Nile. 
 
 Years before, the Mahdi, who was the False Prophet of 
 the Soudan, had killed the noble General Gordon and 
 taken the great town of Khartoum. Emin Pasha was one 
 of General Gordon's officers, and was Governor of a 
 country called Hatlastiva. It was in this country that he 
 was attacked by the Mahdi and found himself unable to 
 retreat. Nothing had been heard of Emin Pasha for years, 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 7 
 
 and everyone thought he was dead, when suddenly one 
 day news reached England that he had beaten back the 
 Mahdi and was still alive, but was in great danger. 
 
 The English people at once got up an expedition to 
 carry him help, and Mr. Stanley said he would lead it, 
 so we were now on our way to rescue Emin Pasha from 
 the clutches of the Mahdi. 
 
 Our path had led through a trackless forest, where we 
 suffered terribly from hunger and sickness ; we had been 
 obliged to eat toad-stools and fungus — blue, green and 
 yellow — which we picked from the rotten stumps of trees. 
 Our men ate dried caterpillars, and slugs, and nasty bitter 
 beans like horse-chestnuts ; and it was a wonder that we 
 were not all poisoned by the things we ate. We had one 
 donkey with us belonging to Mr. Stanley, and at last, 
 when we were almost starving, we killed it. It was very 
 tough, and did not taste at all nice, but we were so hungry 
 we did not care, and ate it all up, from its nose to its tail. 
 And so we struggled on, and at last emerged from the 
 forest, and came upon a huge clearing planted with 
 bananas. In this clearing we found a large village 
 called Ibwiri ; it had been deserted by the natives, and 
 here we determined to stay and rest awhile, and recover 
 our strength before moving on. And now I have told you 
 how it was we came to be in Africa and to build our 
 
8 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 village, which we called Fort Bodo, or the Peaceful Fort, 
 and I will now go on to tell you how we built it. 
 
 First of all we measured off a large space shaped like a 
 diamond, and fenced it in with a strong, high palisade of 
 young saplings, to defend ourselves against the attacks 
 of the savages. Round this fence we dug a broad, deep 
 ditch, and put thorns in the bottom of it, so that if the 
 savages tried to get over it they would prick their feet and 
 legs, for they were quite naked and wore no boots. Then we 
 built four high watch towers at each corner of the fort, and 
 put two men in them each day and night so that they 
 could look round and see that no enemy approached ; they 
 had guns, too, to shoot at the savages if they tried to get 
 into the Fort. And when we had done this we made our- 
 selves mud huts and thatched them with leaves, and then 
 we began to feel snug and comfortable, and turned our 
 attention to clearing the forest and making fields in which 
 to plant corn and beans. 
 
 One party of men cut down the thick underwood and 
 tangled masses of creepers which covered the ground, 
 while another carried away the rubbish and burned it in 
 large bonfires. 
 
 We worked from six in the morning till six at night, and 
 only had an hour's rest at midday. The sun was broiling 
 hot and it was very hard work, but the men were cheery 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 9 
 
 and gay-hearted, and lightened their labour by singing 
 their Zanzibar songs which were exceedingly enlivening 
 and tuneful. 
 
 One man would sing a song, the words of which he made 
 up as he went along, while his companions joined in the 
 chorus, keeping time with their axes and hoes. 
 
 It is, of course, impossible to translate their songs — 
 which they would keep up for an hour at a time — exactly 
 into English, but the following doggerel verses may give 
 you some idea of the way the songs went. The chorus 
 was " Nainda-Shamba-Kulima," which means " Go to the 
 fields and hoe," and the chorus was sung very short and 
 staccato. 
 
 ZANZIBAR FIELD SONG. 
 
 We passed through the gloomy forest — 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 Many a comrade died there — 
 Chorus Go the fields and hoe. 
 
 We starved and toiled by night and day ; 
 
 We fought with savages on the way ; 
 
 Till we came to this place, where now we say — 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 But our leader, Bula-Matari — 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 Was always so " hodari " (clever) — 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 And our little masters led the way 
 
io STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Through forest, rivers, mire, and clay, 
 Till we came to this place, where we can say — 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 We came to the open country ; 
 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 There were cattle and sheep in plenty ; 
 
 Chorus Go to the fields and hoe. 
 
 We ate, we drank, we rose to play, 
 
 And we laughed and sang like children gay, 
 
 When we came to this place, where we could say — - 
 
 Chorus Go the fields and hoe. 
 
 It was very inspiriting to hear the axes and hoes all come 
 down together in time as the men sang ;< Go to the fields 
 and hoe." 
 
 Frequently large rats, which abounded in great numbers 
 about our fort, would scamper out from hollow trees as the 
 men struck them with their axes, and this was at once a 
 signal for every one to seize sticks and give chase. The 
 rats ran in and out among the men's legs, while they struck 
 wildly everywhere in the greatest excitement, often hitting 
 each other across the shins, shouting and laughing withal 
 like a lot of children. Sometimes a huge poisonous puff 
 adder would glide hissing from under a rotting log, or a 
 brilliant blue and red horned cerastus — a most deadly snake 
 — would drop from the bough of a tree almost on the men's 
 backs. Then there was a stampede, for our men with their 
 bare legs and feet were very much afraid of them, and 
 
V 
 
 ill 
 
 
 "CORNFIELDS ROUND FORT EODO. 
 
IN TROD UC TOR Y. 1 1 
 
 would run away shouting to one of us white men, " Hi, 
 Master ! here 's a snake, kill him ! " Then we would run up 
 and despatch it with our sticks, and the Zanzibaris, after he 
 was dead, chopped him viciously to bits with their hoes, 
 and hurled curses at the whole family of snakes. All 
 these little events created a diversion, and took away some- 
 what from the monotony of the day's work. 
 
 And so, at last, after many days' work, we had cleared 
 quite a large tract of land all round the Fort. It was 
 several acres in extent, and in a few weeks' time we had 
 the satisfaction of seeing" green cornfields springing up 
 around us, giving promise of a plentiful harvest. 
 
 You must understand that all this time we had to be 
 most vigilant and careful in keeping a good look out for 
 the savage natives who lived in the forest round us. Our 
 men were very foolhardy and often went out in twos and 
 threes and strayed far from the fort in search of ripe 
 bananas or plantains. Often they came in wounded, and 
 several times men went out who never returned, having 
 probably been killed by the savages, who unceasingly 
 prowled about the plantations and lay in wait to kill them. 
 They became so bold that at last we found it necessary to 
 send out a party of ten men as scouts every day to drive 
 away any natives they might find lurking near the planta- 
 tions and fields. 
 
12 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Whilst we were at the fort we constantly came upon 
 traces of the dwarfs, who, as I said before, abounded in the 
 neighbourhood. They were most artful and cunning in 
 sticking poisoned spikes in the paths in order to lame our 
 men, and in laying in wait for them in the bushes. There 
 must have been several thousands of these dangerous little 
 people in the forest around us. 
 
 Far away back in the forest we had come upon little 
 temporary encampments made of boughs of trees and 
 green leaves. In these we found tiny bows and 
 arrows, little spears and diminutive-looking pots. We 
 could not think what sort of people these could be who 
 inhabited these queer little huts and used such tiny 
 weapons. At last, after passing a good many of these 
 settlements, some of our scouts suddenly came upon a small 
 band of dwarfs, busily engaged in peeling bananas in the 
 midst of the forest. Our men pounced on them and 
 captured two, a man and a woman. Mr. Stanley christened 
 them Adam and Eve. They were brought before us in 
 fear and trembling, for to them we must have looked like 
 giants, and they evidently thought we were going to eat 
 them. We tried to reassure them and made gentle croon- 
 ing noises over them. We put some beads into their 
 hands and closed their little fingers over them — for they 
 were too frightened to shut them themselves — but there 
 
MR. STANLEY CHRISTENED THEM ADAM AXD EVE. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 13 
 
 they stood, shivering and shaking before us, with the beads 
 dribbling out of their fingers and their little knees knock- 
 ing; together from sheer terror. However, after a while we 
 managed to calm their fears. We smiled sweetly at the 
 little man and chucked the little woman under the chin, 
 and so by degrees they felt rather less uncomfortable, and 
 at last became quite certain that we did not want to eat them. 
 
 Then we began to talk to them by signs and gestures, 
 using the few words which we knew of their language, 
 asking them who they were, and information about the 
 country in general. 
 
 Now, I must tell you there are certain tribes in Africa 
 who talk in dialects resembling the Swahili — which is the 
 language of Zanzibar. Many of the common words, such 
 as corn, water, etc., are very similar in this group of 
 dialects. Some of our Negroes, who had frequently 
 travelled in different countries with Arab caravans, had 
 picked up a number of words which were used by the 
 natives in the forest. These words they eked out with a 
 great many expressive gestures, by which means they 
 were able to converse tolerably easily with the natives 
 of the forest. For instance, we wanted to know whether 
 there were bananas in the country ahead of us. Well, a 
 Zanzibari took up a banana from the ground, and 
 holding it up before the little people, pointed a-head, and 
 
H STORIES TOLD IN A A 7 AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 asked by signs if there was anything like it in the country 
 ahead of us. The dwarfs understood at once and smilingly 
 held up their left arms, and placing their right hands upon 
 their forearms, they grunted expressively ; meaning to say 
 there were bananas as big as their forearms. Our inter- 
 preter then asked them with most telling gestures if there 
 were plenty. " Ugh ! Ugh ! Ugh ! " grunted the dwarfs, 
 delightedly, holding their hands about a foot in front of 
 their little stomachs, by which they meant to say that 
 bananas were so plentiful in the country ahead that our 
 stomachs would be swelled to that size from the quantities 
 we should be able to eat. 
 
 Of course we were able to understand such gestures per- 
 fectly, and so we were able to converse quite freely with 
 the pigmies. 
 
 These pigmies are generally believed to represent the 
 original people who inhabited the forest which extended 
 over the whole of Equatorial Africa. Other larger tribes 
 have grown up and have scattered the pigmies, so that they 
 no longer have the forest all to themselves. 
 
 Several travellers have spoken of them, but they only 
 saw them in such small numbers that it was usually sup- 
 posed they did not represent any distinct nation. We now, 
 however, struck right through a country peopled by several 
 thousands of dwarfs. 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 15 
 
 The dwarfs seldom have fixed villages, but roam about 
 the forest in small bands, usually consisting of members of 
 one family, and they are never known of their own free will 
 to leave the forest for the open country. 
 
 They live solely on the produce of the chase, and form 
 small temporary encampments near to the villages and 
 clearings of the larger forest natives. With these they 
 exchange the spoils of their hunting expeditions, such as 
 meat, skins, feathers, etc., for corn, bananas, or such things 
 as they require. They are very clever in setting traps and 
 snares for the small animals which abound in the forest, 
 and in digging pitfalls, which they artfully cover with 
 boughs and leaves in order to catch the elephants, who, 
 thinking it is solid ground, vyalk over the boughs and 
 tumble through into the pits, while the dwarfs, who have 
 been watching in the trees close by, jump down and kill 
 them with their spears. When they have killed an 
 elephant they build little huts all round and remain there 
 until they have eaten him entirely up. We often came 
 upon an old pitfall with the remains of little huts all round 
 it, and the elephant bones lying about on the ground. 
 
 The dwarfs are the most primitive people it is possible 
 to imagine, in fact, they may be called the gipsies of the 
 forest. 
 
 They are cannibals, and in some cases have their teeth 
 
16 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 filed — in order — so we were told — to eat human flesh with 
 greater facility. You know, children, when you are fight- 
 ing these dwarfs it is rather humiliating to feel that they 
 look upon you, not so much as a human being, but rather 
 as an appetising meal. Of our party I was always the 
 least thin, and my fellow officers used to chaff me and say 
 that the pigmies looked at me with hungry eyes, and 
 their mouths watered to think what a splendid steak they 
 could cut off me if they could only get me ! But I am 
 thankful to say they never did ! When any of their own 
 people die they always eat them, unless the person dies of 
 a skin disease. 
 
 The pigmies are fierce, brave, and cunning; their tiny 
 bows, poisoned arrows, and barbed spears making them 
 very formidable assailants. You can easily understand, 
 therefore, that the larger natives are generally afraid to 
 offend them, for they are quick to resent any slight 
 put upon them, and, like most little people, are very 
 spiteful. 
 
 Their settlements are sometimes formed of several 
 dozens of little huts, about three feet six inches high and 
 three feet in diameter, which are made of boughs and green 
 leaves. 
 
 We were told that in some parts of the forest the pigmies 
 sleep with their bodies in the huts and their legs sticking 
 
IN TR OD UCTORY. 17 
 
 out of the doors. Over their entire bodies they have a 
 thick fell of stiff greyish hair, which gives them a dusty 
 and peculiarly elfish appearance. They have, moreover, a 
 strong and most unpleasant odour, like the lions' cage at 
 the Zoological Gardens — our Zanzibaris said it was because 
 they ate human flesh. 
 
 I remember a little dwarf woman in Emin Pasha's 
 country. Emin was measuring her height and size, and 
 asked me to help him. The little wcman was dreadfully 
 frightened, for she thought we were going to kill her, and 
 she broke out into a cold perspiration from sheer terror. 
 The smell she emitted from her skin was so strong that I 
 had to wash my hands several times after touching her 
 before I could get rid of the unpleasant odour. The dwarfs 
 usually measure about four feet ten inches in height, but 
 they are well formed and exceedingly intelligent. They 
 have a language of their own, but ordinarily speak the 
 language of the natives in whose country they are staying. 
 The dwarf babies are very funny ! They are like tadpoles, 
 all head and stomach, and looking so round, fat, and 
 shiny, are most tempting to smack. They run about and 
 play together in the forest, and almost as soon as they can 
 walk they begin to practise shooting with tiny bows and 
 arrows. 
 
 Emin had a little dwarf boy, and I asked him one day 
 
 c 
 
i8 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 to show me how he could shoot. He answered, " Speak, 
 Master, what shall I shoot at ? " 
 
 I pointed out to him a cock which was in the act of 
 crowing at some little distance. The boy smiled disdain- 
 fully at the easiness of the task, and quickly drawing the 
 string of his bow, he transfixed the bird through the head. 
 
 Now, from what I have told you, you must not think 
 these dwarfs are of a low type of humanity. You will 
 make a great mistake if you think that. 
 
 I will tell you about a little dwarf woman who was the 
 Queen of the Pigmies. 
 
 She was captured in a fight, and remained in our camp 
 for a long time, and every one became fond of her, for she 
 was so cheerful and bright and industrious, and was full of 
 fun and laughter. It is true that when she came to us first 
 her only clothing was an iron girdle and a necklace of 
 dog's teeth over her little brown skin, and very nice she 
 looked in it, just like a little bronze statue, and she was 
 modest and well behaved too. 
 
 She took a great fancy to our doctor, and used to cook 
 his food and bring him fire for his pipe. After a while the 
 nights became so cold that Dr. Parke wished to give her 
 some clothes. We were all so poverty-stricken that we 
 had not much to give her, but he gave her what he could, 
 which was an old Macintosh coat — once upon a time it was 
 
"SOMETIMES I WOULD LEND HER MY LOOKING GLASS." 
 
"I CAN" SEE HER NOW WALKING PROUDLY THROUGH THE CAAIP. ,; 
 
INTR OD L/C TOR V. 19 
 
 waterproof, but it had lost its waterproof qualities long 
 since. Though she had never worn clothes before the little 
 dwarf dame took most kindly to it, and I can see her now, 
 walking proudly through the camp, with the Macintosh 
 coat trailing on the ground. She would twist her head this 
 way and that to get a good view of the sweep of her 
 garment behind, with the same gestures and evident 
 pleasure with which a lady in a London drawing room 
 would manage her train of six feet long. 
 
 She would look with pity upon the other women in the 
 camp, who were not to her mind dressed as elegantly as 
 herself. She would contemplate the noble sweep of her 
 garment with childlike pleasure, I will not say with pride, 
 for a good heart is never proud, and even the joy of possess- 
 ing such a magnificent garment as that old Macintosh 
 coat could not spoil the kind heart of that sweet, simple- 
 natured little dwarf dame. 
 
 Sometimes as a treat I would lend her my looking glass, 
 before which — if I allowed it, she would sit for hours 
 gazing at her face with a pleased smile. 
 
 Now most of you have seen a lady when she comes into 
 a room where there is a mirror and thinks no one is looking. 
 She will go before the looking glass and give her tucker a 
 twitch on one side and fluff her hair up rapidly and lightly 
 with her hands, and then, with a side look into the mirror, 
 
2o STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 she will tilt up her chin, give herself one more finishing 
 touch, and turning round will be ready to face the whole 
 world. 
 
 Well, I have often seen that little dwarf lady go through 
 just such movements as that before my looking glass. She 
 would give her necklace of dog's teeth a hitch to the right, 
 and would fluff up her black wool more fetchingly over her 
 little ears ; and then, turning round, she would receive the 
 advances of some love-sick Zanzibari swain with all the airs 
 of a great lady — and she had a great many admirers, for 
 she was very good looking. 
 
 And so, I say, do not think these pigmies are a low caste 
 people. I have travelled through many countries and have 
 seen strange people, but the more I travel, the more the 
 conviction grows upon me, that big or small, black or 
 white, women are much the same all the world over, and 
 even though they have never seen them before, they all 
 love pretty frocks ! 
 
 For many months that little pigmy dame accompanied 
 our caravan, endearing herself to all by her bright, cheer- 
 ful, kindly ways. Alas ! in the open country, the con- 
 tinuous marching and the heat of the sun were too much 
 for her, after being accustomed to the dark shades of the 
 forest all her life. And so she sickened and pined for her 
 forest home, and when we were only twenty days' march 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 21 
 
 from the coast we were obliged to leave her behind 
 with a friendly tribe of natives who promised to look after 
 her. 
 
 We were all sorry to part w r ith that gentle little lady, for 
 we felt that some of the sunlight had gone from the camp, 
 and in those days we needed some cheering and softening 
 element in our midst. 
 
 We know not now what has become of her, she may be 
 still living with the natives, or she may be dead : but she 
 has left behind her the feeling with us that in the hearts of 
 rough untutored " savages " the same kindly human element 
 beats strongly as in ours, making us all kin. 
 
 And now I have come to the end of the chapter, and 
 hope I have been able to interest you children. If so, in 
 the next chapter I will tell you some more about ourselves 
 and our life. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 
 
 ■.'^Qe&kj 
 
 1 
 
 WILL now draw you a little picture of Fort 
 Bodo, in which we were destined to spend so 
 many months. In the inner part of the Fort 
 were the mud-houses of Mr. Stanley and our- 
 selves, a store house, and three houses for some of our 
 chiefs. In the middle were two large granaries for Indian 
 corn. These were raised upon legs nine feet high, in order 
 to keep out the rats, which infested the place. Outside, in 
 another inclosure, were two long lines of huts for the 
 Zanzibaris, behind which were their little gardens for 
 growing native vegetables or tobacco. 
 
 The whole place was kept beautifully clean and neat, 
 for in those hot countries any dirt or garbage lying about 
 immediately brings fever and sickness. Therefore, every 
 day when work was finished we had the whole place swept 
 clean, and large fires were kept burning, into which the 
 refuse was thrown — a kind of Gehenna. 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 
 
 23 
 
 We had quite a number of animals with us which gave 
 the place a homelike appearance. 
 
 There were four cows that we had brought back with us 
 
 U THE LITTLE ZANZIBAR BOYS DELIGHTED IN MAKING THE 
 TWO FIGHT." 
 
 from the open country near the Albert Nyanza ; we also 
 had twelve goats, several of which had kids, and large 
 numbers of chickens. These animals were very tame, and 
 used to wander about the fort. It was pleasant to watch 
 
24 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 the chickens clucking and scratching about, while the kids 
 leaped and played together round their mothers. These 
 homelike scenes were soothing in the middle of that wild 
 forest, and we loved to hear the well-known sounds : the 
 lowing of cows, the bleating of goats, the crowing of cocks, 
 and the chuckling of a hen as she announced proudly 
 to all the world that she had laid an egg. Amongst our 
 pets we had a tame heron, which used to hop about the 
 fort picking up snails and slugs. It was amusing to see 
 the rivalry between this bird and Mr. Stanley's fox terrier 
 Randy. Whenever the heron approached Mr. Stanley's 
 house Randy would dash out and drive it away, barking 
 furiously. The heron, which was lame in one leg, hopped 
 about in the most comical way, and made vicious pecks 
 at Randy, who never dared to approach too close to the 
 bird, having several times experienced the sharpness of 
 its beak. The little Zanzibar boys delighted in making 
 the two fight, and would dance round clapping their hands 
 and encouraging them. 
 
 To many of you children, who see such scenes everyday, 
 these things would pass unnoticed. But to us men, who 
 for so many months had been accustomed to fight with 
 savages and cannibals, and had lived through wild and 
 weird experiences, these simple scenes came as a relief, 
 and were a rest to minds wearied and hardened from loner 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 25 
 
 struggling with death and disaster. They were as a breath 
 from home, and brought with them a calm and civilizing 
 influence, which, God knows, is necessary to men amid such 
 rough surroundings. You children, who can get anything 
 you want from shops, cannot understand what pleasure we 
 took in all the little things we made for ourselves. I 
 remember, when our house was built, I made a table of 
 which I was extremely proud. I had no tools to make it 
 with, except a hammer and an old cold chisel. Near the 
 fort I found a rough native-made plank, and at this I 
 chipped and chipped during my spare time. After I had 
 brought it to a certain rough smoothness, I fixed four 
 rather shaky and uneven legs to it, and planting it proudly 
 in the middle of the floor of our hut, said to my fellow 
 officers, " There, boys, we've got a real table at last." 
 
 Well, that table was warranted to upset anything that 
 was put upon it ! Some of my fellow officers would 
 incautiously put down their cups of tea on it, and I can 
 almost hear them still exclaiming, " confound that old 
 table of Jephson's ! There it is again, all my tea upset ! " 
 
 However, in spite of it all, I used to walk round that 
 table and view it from different points of vantage with a 
 feeling of intense pride. No shop-made English table from 
 Maple's or Hampton's could ever be so beautiful to me as 
 was that ricketty plank in our little mud hut in Africa. 
 
26 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Then we made bedsteads, too, and put them in the four 
 corners of our huts. Dear me! We have reason to 
 remember those bedsteads, they were as uneven as a 
 switch-back railway. Still, we were lenient to their short- 
 comings, and covered their inequalities with a plentiful 
 sprinkling of dry leaves, and bore patiently with all their 
 deficiencies, simply because we had made them ourselves. 
 
 It was just the same out of doors — never did cornfields 
 look to us so lovely ; never was there, in our eyes, a crop 
 so fine, or corn so sweet and succulent as that which came 
 from the fields which we ourselves had planted. 
 
 And so, my young friends, hard work honestly and 
 conscientiously done always carries with it a certain 
 reward, a proud feeling that you have done some real good 
 yourself. Who among you does not know how sweet the 
 vegetables taste grown in the little patch of ground which 
 your mother or father has given you in the garden ? With 
 what pride you eat the little bunch of radishes, the first 
 fruits of your labours ! 
 
 Well, so it was with us men. All the fresh and natural 
 feelings we had as children came back to us in the midst 
 of that dark forest, and prevented our becoming callous 
 and hardened. 
 
 Sunday at the Fort was always a day of rest, and was 
 eagerly looked forward to by Europeans and Zanzibaris 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 27 
 
 alike, for we could always lie in bed and rest till breakfast 
 time, and could do many little things for which we had no 
 time during the week. 
 
 Early in the morning our men used to troop down to 
 the creek close by to bathe, and wash such poor clothes as 
 they had — for the Negro is, by nature, a cleanly being, and 
 does not love dirt and disorder ; then they would sit under 
 the trees chatting and smoking as they waited for their 
 clothes to dry, which had been spread out in the sun upon 
 the bushes, for in those days they were poor and had only 
 the clothes they stood in. 
 
 Some of our men, however, were great " Mally-Daddies " 
 (Zanzibar word for dandies), and after washing themselves 
 and fluffing out their wool, they would arrange their scanty 
 clothes to the best advantage, and taking a little stick in 
 their hands, strutted about the fort just as they were 
 accustomed to do in the town of Zanzibar. 
 
 Others might be seen preparing bananas, beans, yams, 
 corn, or such wild herbs as they had collected about the 
 clearings ; and groups of them gathered about the fires, 
 talking and laughing quietly, as they stirred or tasted the 
 simmering contents of the pots, and discussed the impor- 
 tant question as to whether more " pili-pili " (pepper) 
 would be an improvement or not. 
 
 The very goats and cattle seemed to know it was 
 
28 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Sunday, and lay lazily chewing the cud and blinking in 
 the sun ; while the chickens, making little gentle clucking 
 sounds, plumed themselves or dusted their feathers in 
 the hollows they had scratched under the shade of the 
 granaries. 
 
 The whole place had that air of quiet and repose which 
 seems only to exist on Sunday. 
 
 On these mornings Mr. Stanley generally sat in his 
 house and wrote up the rough notes he had made during 
 the week. We officers took the opportunity of mending 
 our tattered clothes and making rough boots (for those we 
 brought from Europe had long since worn out, and for 
 many months we wore only such boots as we were able to 
 make for ourselves. It was difficult work at first, but we 
 soon became great adepts in the art of shoemaking. 
 
 We made the upper part of our boots of raw, sun-dried 
 cowhide, the soles were made from seasoned buffalo hide 
 which we found in the native huts. In the open country 
 we found numbers of hide shields which the natives wore 
 round their bodies to protect them from arrows. They 
 cut large oblong pieces of thick buffalo hide, and these 
 they hang up in the roofs of their huts, and in a 
 few months' time the heat and smoke of the fires season 
 the hide and make it hard and impervious to arrows. 
 When the hide is sufficiently cured the natives bend it into 
 
THE STORY OE MAHOMET. 29 
 
 a cylindrical shape and lace it up round their bodies. 
 These hardened shields made excellent leather for boot 
 soles, and we brought quite a number of them with us to 
 the fort for that purpose. We manufactured awls out of 
 sharpened nails and fixed them in wooden handles ; with 
 these we made holes in the hide for the thread to pass 
 through. Big needles were very precious in those days, 
 and were always jealously guarded by us. I made an 
 excellent needle by filing the knob off the end of an old 
 brass bodkin which was in my housewife. How useful 
 that old needle was ! I have got it still, as a momento of 
 our shoemaking days. On one side of it is stamped 
 "Victoria, Queen of England, born 1819," and, on the 
 other side " Ascended the throne 1837." 
 
 It is, however, so worn from constant use that I can 
 only just decipher the inscription. If only that old needle 
 could speak, what tales it could tell ! It has travelled over 
 many thousand miles of rough country, it has sewn more 
 ragged clothes, I suppose, than any other needle existing, 
 and it certainly has helped to manufacture the strangest 
 looking of shoes. It has pricked the thorns from many a 
 lame and weary foot, and my European and Zanzibar! 
 friends in the expedition knew well its value. And it now 
 lies before me. It is true its eye is sadly worn out of 
 shape, its body is dull, its nose is bent and blunted, but still 
 
3o STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 that old brass needle is more beautiful to me than the 
 finest needle made of the brightest and newest steel ; for it 
 is an old and tried friend, and has saved my feet from 
 many a blister and many a sore in that long and weary 
 march through Central Africa. 
 
 And so the morning would pass peacefully and usefully 
 away, and after our midday meal was over Mr. Stanley 
 and we officers, taking our chairs, used to go up the path 
 to the edge of the cornfields and sit smoking our pipes on 
 a little mound under the shadow of a great tree, whose 
 branches threw a cool and chequered shade over the broad 
 pathway. From here we could see the fort and the waving 
 green cornfields around it ; fields which were the work of 
 our own hands. We used to talk of our work, our plans 
 and experiences ; of the time when we should reach Emin 
 Pasha and be able to help him ; of the Rear Column and 
 our companions far away, and finally, of our people and 
 home. The breeze rustling the leaves of the trees carried 
 the sounds of the fort faintly to our ears, and in the 
 distance we could hear our men singing verses of the 
 Khoran in the monotonous voice peculiar to Mahome- 
 dans. 
 
 As the afternoon shadows lengthened our Zanzibaris 
 would strollout in twos and threes, and join us under the 
 tree until most of our people were gathered round us. 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 31 
 
 After some talk Raschid, our head chief, would ask Mr- 
 Stanley for a story, and he, ever ready to gossip with the 
 men, would tell them some story from the Old Testament, 
 or of Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp. Various com- 
 ments and interruptions came from the men as they listened 
 to the stories and asked questions on various points they 
 did not quite understand. They seemed best to like 
 Scriptural tales, which, they said, reminded them of their 
 own Mahomedan stories. 
 
 I remember one afternoon as we sat together saying, 
 " Raschid, I have seen you writing verses of the Khoran 
 with a charred stick on boards, and the men sit in front of 
 the boards and sing what they say is written on them. 
 Now, do they understand what they are singing, do they 
 really know anything about Mahomet ? " 
 
 " Yea, Master, verily they do," answered Raschid. " All 
 of us know about Him ; even Binza there, who was only a 
 Ma-shenzi (Pagan) two years ago, have we not taught him 
 the beliefs of Islam ? Speak, boy, and tell the little 
 Master what you know of the prophet." 
 
 " Yes, speak up boy,'' said all the men, " tell the Masters 
 the story of Mahomet." 
 
 Binza, smiling shyly, rose to his feet and shifting uneasily 
 from leg to leg began to tell the story in the picturesque 
 language of Zanzibar. 
 
32 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Master, it is true M'seh Raschid has told me of the 
 Prophet, still, I am but a thoughtless boy, and it may be 
 that I have forgotten part of the story, for, as you know, 
 we black boys think more of filling our stomachs and of 
 sleeping than of anything else. But I will tell you as well 
 as I can remember all that he told me. 
 
 " Far, far away, towards the rising sun, is a country 
 called Arabia. It is a land of sand and rocks, where the 
 sun beats down like a fire at midday, and makes the whole 
 land quiver and swim before the eyes. In this country is 
 a town called Muscat, it is the same same town, Master, 
 from which the grandfather of our Said (Sultan) of 
 Zanzibar originally came, and brought with him the Maho- 
 medan religion, which, as you know, is now the religion of 
 all Zanzibaris. 
 
 " Long, long ago, so long that I cannot tell you the 
 number of years, there lived a man called Mahomet — to 
 whom we bow. He was a man of good family, and used to 
 drive His uncle's camels with merchandise between Muscat 
 and Jerusalem. 
 
 " Being very clever, and of an inquiring mind, He used, 
 while staying in these places, to spend all His spare time 
 with the holy men who lived in caves near by, and among 
 the hermits in the country round His native town of 
 Muscat. From these holy men He obtained books, which 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 33 
 
 He used diligently to read during His journeys between 
 Jerusalem and Muscat. From leading this life He became 
 well versed in the Scriptures and in all Holy Lore, and 
 grew to be fanatical in His love of all holy things. 
 
 " One night as He was sleeping on the roof of His house 
 at Muscat, the Angel Gabriel appeared to Him, and told 
 Him he had come to call Him into the presence of God, 
 who had a great work for Him to do. 
 
 " The angel then transported Mahomet to the Holy Hill 
 of Jerusalem in two hours, which to ordinary mortals was 
 seven days' journey from Muscat. 
 
 " He here gave Him a steed called El Borak, upon whose 
 back He was able to ascend in the space of a few minutes 
 into the Seventh Heaven, in which God dwelt. To an 
 ordinary mortal it was a journey of three thousand five 
 hundred years, but God was pleased to permit His servant 
 and prophet Mahomet — in whom we trust — to reach His 
 Presence immediately. On reaching the First Heaven He 
 saw the prophet Moses ; in the Second Heaven was the 
 prophet Joseph ; in the Third Heaven was the prophet 
 Jacob ; in the Fourth Heaven was the prophet Isaac ; and 
 in the Fifth Heaven was the prophet Abraham ; and in the 
 Sixth Heaven He bowed before the prophet Jesus, who 
 was sent down to conduct Him to the Seventh Heaven, 
 into the Presence of God. 
 
 D 
 
34 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " He prostrated Himself before the Divine Presence, and 
 God told Him He had a great work for Him to do. He 
 was to found a New Religion among God's chosen people, 
 and it was to be called Islam. After explaining to 
 Mahomet the beliefs and laws of this New Religion God 
 laid a strict injunction upon Him that the people were 
 to pray fifty times a day. 
 
 " Having heard all God's commands, He again mounted 
 the steed El Borak, who immediately began to descend. 
 
 " On reaching the First Heaven He told the prophet 
 Moses all that God had commanded Him to do, and the 
 strict injunction that the people should pray fifty times a day. 
 
 " And Moses said, ' Your people are wicked and slothful 
 people, given up to pleasure and lust, they will never pray 
 fifty times a day, you will gain no converts to your New 
 Religion, turn again into the Presence of God and entreat 
 Him to lessen the number.' 
 
 " Mahomet, therefore, returned to the Seventh Heaven, 
 and prostrating Himself, entreated God to lessen the 
 number to forty times, then to thirty, and so on until he 
 had reduced the number to five times. And God said five 
 times was the law, and the law must be kept. 
 
 " The Prophet — to whom our greetings — then descended 
 to the Holy Hill of Jerusalem, and the Angel Gabriel 
 transported Him back to Muscat. In the morning, when 
 
THE STORY OF MAHOMET. 35 
 
 He awakened from His sleep, He pondered over all that 
 had passed, and went out in the wilderness for forty days 
 and forty nights, and was lost in deep meditation and 
 prayer. 
 
 " And after these days had elapsed He went out among 
 the people and preached the New Religion called Islam, 
 which rapidly spread among the nations of the earth. 
 
 "And this, Master," said Binza, "is the story of the 
 Prophet before whom we bow — as I remember it, but it 
 may be that I have not told it right. Speak, Father 
 Raschid, and tell the Masters if I have said truly." 
 
 "Yes, boy, you have spoken the truth," said Raschid. 
 " Among the Arabs there is but one belief." 
 
 " Eh Baba ! " exclaimed Murabo, "is it not true that our 
 Said of Zanzibar, Prince Burghash, believes it to be impos- 
 sible for the Prophet to have been transported into the 
 Seventh Heaven so rapidly ? I think, M'seh (old man), 
 you are wrong." 
 
 " Nonsense," answered Raschid, with an air of dignity. 
 " In these days young men think that they know better than 
 their elders, but things were different when I was youno-. 
 We used gratefully to listen to what our elders told us. 
 Ah, the world is sadly changed ; the young men now wish 
 to take the places of the elders — there is no place for old 
 men in these days ! " 
 
36 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Nay, M'seh, he meant no harm," exclaimed the rest 
 of the men, " we all know that you are our father and 
 mother." 
 
 But Raschid's dignity was hurt, and shaking the dust 
 from his feet, he left the group, repeating that there was no 
 place for old men in these days. 
 
 But now the shadows had grown long and the daylight 
 was closing in. We reluctantly broke up the group and 
 returned to the fort, agreeing that every Sunday we would 
 meet under the tree and tell stories. 
 
 And so night fell on the Peaceful Fort, and we sat down 
 to our frugal suppers, refreshed by our Sunday rest, and 
 ready with the daylight to begin the work of a new week. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 
 
 FIND under the date of April ist, 1888, the 
 following remark in my journal : 
 
 " All this (Sunday) morning we have been 
 trying our hands at soap making, and by mid- 
 da)' managed to make quite a decent amount, and are all 
 very proud of the result." 
 
 For months we had been without soap, and the only way 
 we had of washing our clothes at all was to boil them in 
 a big native-made earthenware jar. We only had the 
 clothes we stood in, so that while our servants were 
 boiling them we had to wrap ourselves in blankets and sit 
 in our huts or tents until they were ready for us to put 
 on again. 
 
 The night before, being Saturday night, a cow had been 
 killed and the meat divided among the men as a treat for 
 their Sunday dinner. We had taken most of the fat, and 
 with it proposed to make soap. We were novices in the 
 
38 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 art of soap-making, but, as you all know, " necessity is the 
 mother of invention," and so we invented as we went on. 
 Fat or oil, we knew, was the chief ingredient, and that the 
 next thing was to obtain potash and soda. We cudgelled 
 our brains as to how we could obtain soda. We had 
 observed that when we burnt a certain kind of tree it 
 yielded a very white ash, so we mixed this with water and 
 used it as a wash for whitewashing the walls of our mud 
 houses. Well, one thing led to another. One morning 
 some of us noticed that if this whitewash was left standing 
 all night the ash sank to the bottom, leaving the water a 
 clear yellowish colour. This water had an acrid, bitter 
 taste, which we knew must contain a certain amount of soda, 
 and so, by a mere chance we discovered this method of 
 making soap. 
 
 To return to my story. On this particular Sunday 
 morning we collected all the fat, mixed it with a quantity 
 of the ash-water, and pouring it all into the largest pot we 
 could find, set it on a big fire to boil. We were all much 
 interested in the experiment, and every now and again 
 went out to see that the boys were keeping up the fire and 
 stirring the pot. 
 
 From early morning till midday we kept it going, and at 
 last had the satisfaction of seeing the mixture gradually 
 thickening and becoming like soap. 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 39 
 
 When we considered that it had boiled enough we let it 
 cool and made the thick brown mass into balls about the 
 size of an orange. It had not the delicate odour of Pears' 
 soap, but what a triumph it was to find that on using it it 
 lathered splendidly ! With what satisfaction we contem- 
 plated that row of dirty-looking brown balls, and what 
 pride we experienced in feeling that we had actually been 
 able, in that lonely forest, to make real soap ! The 
 Zanzibaris were all equally interested in watching our 
 soap-making, and were proud that their white masters 
 should be so clever. As we gathered under the tree that 
 afternoon they all talked about it and wondered how we, 
 who in our own country had been accustomed to have 
 everything we wanted, should be willing to come into 
 Africa, where we had to do things ourselves and " work 
 like slaves." 
 
 "Ah!" said Uledi, "though the Masters are accustomed 
 in Uliah (Europe) to do nothing but eat and sleep, it is 
 trouble which has taught them how to work with their 
 hands. And hunger, too, how it teaches people ! Do you 
 remember the starvation days before we came to this 
 place, and what they taught us ? Our little Masters were 
 proud, Allah ! how proud ! when we started, but hunger 
 and trouble has brought us all together. In those days, 
 white men or black, we were all in the same pit, and but 
 
40 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 for those times, perhaps, we should not now understand 
 our little Masters, or they us." 
 
 " Eh, Wallah ! but hunger bends the stiff neck and 
 softens the heart. Tell the Master, Murabo, for you are a 
 "fundi" (skilled hand) at story-telling, tell them the story 
 we tell our children in Zanzibar of the Lion and Mr. 
 Hunger." 
 
 Then Murabo, who was the wit of the party, and always 
 full of saws and sayings, got up and told us the following 
 tale. 
 
 " Once upon a time, in the desert of M'Gunda Makali, 
 which lies far to the East, in the country of Unyamwezi, 
 there lived a Lion. He was the terror of all the country, 
 being the strongest and fiercest lion in the whole of Africa. 
 When he roared it was as if the thunder shook the earth, 
 and the beasts of the forest bowed down before him, for he 
 was the king of them all. 
 
 " The elephant and rhinoceros, the leopard, buffalo, and 
 hyena, all owned him as their chief, and did his bidding in 
 obedience and fear. He dwelt in a dark cave under the 
 shadow of a great rock, which was strewn all round with the 
 skulls and bones of his enemies, who had come from time 
 to time to try their strength against him. 
 
 " Allah ! Master, he was a fearsome beast ! As he stood 
 before his cave tossing his tawny mane, gnashing those 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 41 
 
 terrible teeth, and lashing his tail, he was a sight to make 
 the bravest quake ! And at night, when from afar his 
 fearful roar boomed across the country and echoed among 
 the rocks, the prowling hyena would slink away in fear and 
 trembling, and the antelope would spring from his mossy 
 couch by the running stream, and speed, terror-stricken, 
 across the plain. 
 
 " The young warrior princes of Uganda and Unyoro, of 
 Usukuma and Ruanda had all come to do battle with the 
 Lion, for his fame had gone through all the land. The 
 African bards sang of his wondrous strength, and of the 
 bloody battles which had been fought at the mouth of that 
 dark cave in the gloomy wilderness of M'Gunda Makali. 
 But one after another the Lion had killed them all, and his 
 cave had become a charnel house, strewn with the bones of 
 his enemies. 
 
 " And so every one who came against him fell before him, 
 till at last he cried out in the pride of his heart, ' I am the 
 chief of all the land, for no one is so strong and great as I.' 
 
 " Now hard by the Lion's den there dwelt a rabbit. He 
 was in no way afraid of his savage neighbour, for he was so 
 small and weak that he was beneath the lion's enmity, and 
 was, therefore, treated with a certain tolerance by him. 
 
 " You know how it is, Master. Look at big Alusa there, 
 he is strong enough to fell a buffalo, and no man dare 
 
42 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 quarrel with him. Yet you have seen how the children in 
 the camp play tricks upon him, and tease and worry him 
 like mosquitoes, for they know they are so small that he 
 will never hurt them. 
 
 " Well, so it was with the Rabbit and the Lion." 
 
 Murabo here ducked his head, as a corn cob, thrown by 
 the subject of his remarks, whizzed past his ear, and the 
 " big Musa," with a broad grin on his good-natured face, 
 lazily re-settled himself against the trunk of a tree. 
 
 " Well, one morning when the Rabbit was out for a walk, 
 he met the Lion. 
 
 " ' Good day, B'wana Lion/ squeaked the Rabbit. 
 
 " ' Good mor-r-r-r-ning, Rabbit,' roared the Lion. ' Look 
 at me, did you ever see any one so great and strong as I ?' 
 
 " And the Lion, making the dust fly as he pawed the 
 ground, gave out such a terrific roar that the Rabbit, nearly 
 deafened, put his paws to his ears. 
 
 " ' Thou art great, it is true, B'wana Lion,' answered the 
 Rabbit, ' yet I know a man who is even stronger than 
 thou.' 
 
 "'Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Where is he? What is his name ? 
 Show him to me. Let me tear him in pieces and grind his 
 bones to powder.' And the Lion struck the ground 
 furiously with his huge paws and made the whole country 
 side ring with his deafening roar. 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 43 
 
 " ' His name is B'wana Hunger,' replied the Rabbit, 'and 
 he is everywhere. If thou wilt wait till to-morrow, I will 
 lead thee to a place where thou wilt be able to find him.' 
 
 "'It is well,' yelled the Lion, beside himself with rage. 
 
 ' Only show him to me to-morrow, and we will see who is 
 the stronger.' 
 
 " ' Verily, we will see,' muttered the Rabbit to himself, as 
 he bade the Lion good morning - . 
 
44 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " All that day the Lion could be heard roaring in his cave, 
 as he prepared for the next day's encounter with his 
 unknown enemy, B'wana Hunger. 
 
 " The beasts of the forest heard the thunder from afar, and 
 wondered in fear and trembling what it could mean. 
 
 "Meanwhile the Rabbit went gaily off to his warren, and 
 calling all his friends and relations round him, unfolded his 
 plans. 
 
 " ' Now, friends, I have a plan in my head, and I want you 
 all to help me to carry it out. You hear that roaring away 
 in the distance, and you all know it is our dreaded neigh- 
 bour, the bloodthirsty Lion, who is the scourge and terror 
 of the whole countryside. Now I have an idea in my 
 brain,' said the Rabbit, meditatively scratching his head, 
 'by which we, the smallest and feeblest of all the animals, 
 can rid the land of this scourge and free the country from 
 this tyrant. 
 
 " ' I have this morning seen B'wana Lion, and I have told 
 him that I know a man called B'wana Hunger, who is 
 stronger than he. I have promised to show him to B'wana 
 Lion to-morrow. Now, I want your help, and you must 
 all do as I tell you and be guided by me. Will you help 
 me ?' 
 
 " 'We will, we swear it,' cried all the rabbits together. 
 ' Only show us how.' 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 45 
 
 " ' Thank you,' answered the Rabbit, ' I knew I could 
 depend upon you.' 
 
 " ' Now brother Sandy, take with you fifteen of your 
 brothers, with their axes, and go to the forest and cut down 
 a number of strong young saplings.' 
 
 " ' You, brother Brindle, take thirty or forty of your friends, 
 and bring the saplings to the wooded dell near the river. 
 Meanwhile Long-Whisker and I will take the rest with 
 spades, and cut a deep trench in which to plant the poles as 
 you bring them.' 
 
46 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' Oueri !' cried they all, and away scampered the rabbits 
 to perform their various tasks. All day long they worked 
 hard without any rest, and by nightfall they had made a 
 strong inclosure with no outlet but a narrow gate. 
 
 " That night they went to bed well pleased with their 
 labours, certain that their plan would be successful. Early 
 next morning the Rabbit was at the appointed place, where 
 he found the Lion eager for his encounter with Mr. Hunger. 
 
 "'Good morning, B'wana Lion,' sweetly squeaked the 
 Rabbit, 'Are you ready for your fight with Mr. Hunger?' 
 
 " ' Ready ! ' roared the Lion ' I've been thinking of nothing 
 else all night. Where is he ? Show him to me without 
 delay,' and the Lion ground his teeth in a frenzy of 
 expectation and rage. 
 
 " ' Follow me,' said the Rabbit, ' he is not far off.' 
 
 " The Lion, still growling in a threatening manner, fol- 
 lowed the Rabbit, who led him to the entrance of the 
 inclosure he had built the day before. 
 
 " ' He 's in there, waiting for you,' said the Rabbit, point- 
 ing through the gateway. 
 
 "With a mighty bound the Lion leapt through the 
 entrance, and the Rabbit immediately closed the gate after 
 him. 
 
 "The Lion rapidly searched the inclosure, and asked with 
 a defiant roar, 'Where is Mr. Hunger ?' 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 47 
 
 "'He will come soon enough, only wait a little,' said the 
 Rabbit, as he turned on his heel and rejoined his com- 
 panions. 
 
 " The Lion waited and waited, and made several attempts 
 to get out of the trap, but the cunning rabbits had made it 
 so strong and high that he was forced to remain where he 
 was. 
 
 "After two days the Rabbit returned. 'How are you, 
 Mr. Lion ?' asked he, as he looked through the bars. 
 1 Have you seen any signs of Mr. Hunger yet ?' 
 
 '"Not yet,' feebly roared the Lion, 'but I am read)- for 
 him when he comes. Only bring him quickly that I may 
 tear him limb from limb.' 
 
 "'He will be here shortly now,' said the Rabbit, 'I do 
 not think he will be long,' and he trotted away through 
 the bushes. 
 
 " Two more days passed before the Rabbit returned. 
 This time he found the Lion helplessly stretched upon the 
 ground. His skin hung in folds over his ribs, and the head 
 he had once held so proudly aloft was now sunk between 
 his paws in the dust. 
 
 '"Have you encountered Mr. Hunger yet?' inquired the 
 Rabbit. 
 
 " ' Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! ' moaned the Lion, ' what is this strange 
 faintness which has come over me, blinding my eyes and 
 
48 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 sapping my strength ? It is something that I have never 
 felt before, for it has taken away my strength and humbled 
 me to the dust.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' said the Rabbit triumphantly, ' it is Mr. Hunger, 
 I told you he would come, and that he was stronger even 
 than you.' 
 
 " The Lion looked reproachfully at the Rabbit ; he made 
 one more effort to rise, but rolling helplessly over on the 
 sand, he breathed his last. 
 
 " Quickly the news went through the land that the Lion 
 was dead. The beasts of the forest soon gathered round 
 the body of their dead king, and asked in astonishment 
 who was the enemy who had slain him ; and the rabbits 
 answered that it was Mr. Hunger. 
 
 "And so you see," concluded Murabo, "what hunger can 
 do. It tames the fiercest of us, and makes our hearts like 
 water. We, Master of all people, know what it can do, and 
 how sometimes it makes the kindest of us selfish and cruel." 
 
 " But observe, boys," interrupted Raschid, who was 
 always ready to point a moral to every tale, " the Lion was 
 so pleased with his strength and his head became so 
 swollen with pride, that he boasted that no one was so 
 strong as he. Therefore, do not forget young men, that 
 though you may be as strong as lions, and swift as ante- 
 lopes to-day, do not boast, for a time may come when 
 
THE STORY OF THE LION AND MR. HUNGER. 49 
 
 hunger and sickness will drag you down, even as Mr. 
 Hunger humbled the proud Lion in the dust.'' 
 
 "What you say, Raschid, is quite true," broke in Binza, 
 " but though the Lion ma}- have been proud and cruel, I 
 have no opinion whatever of the Rabbit, who deceived 
 the Lion when he trusted him. He had two faces, and 
 his heart was no bigger than a pebble. For my part, I 
 think the Rabbit deserved to starve, and the beasts of the 
 forest should have torn him to pieces." 
 
 " Allah ! listen to Binza," interrupted Saleh, Mr. Stanley's 
 black boy. " He speaks like the Pagan he is, who has only 
 just begun to learn about the Prophet, and is not a true son 
 of Islam. Of course the Rabbit was right, he was the more 
 ' hodari ' of the two, for though he was so small he was clever, 
 and outdid the Lion, with all his strength." 
 
 " Pagan or not, Saleh," cried Binza furiously, " I had rather 
 be a Pagan and single-hearted than a son of Islam and 
 two-tongued, like the snake that you are. We all know 
 who it is makes so much trouble in the camp, and whispers 
 stories in the B'wana M'Kubwa's ears about us all. You 
 are like the Rabbit, who betrayed the Lion who trusted 
 him, in order to gain credit for being 'hodari' among the 
 beasts of the forest. Bah ! let me remain a Pagan then, 
 if that is what Islam puts into your heart." 
 
 Saleh, with a gesture of contempt, appealed to us, saying, 
 
 E 
 
50 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 " Hear, Little Masters, the words of Binza, who a few years 
 ago was not only a Pagan, but a cannibal." 
 
 This last taunt cut Binza to the quick, for he always 
 studiously ignored his cannibal descent, and any allusion to 
 it made him beside himself. Starting furiously to his feet, 
 he seized a stick with which to break Saleh's head, and a 
 row seemed imminent. 
 
 The men who had been silent and amused spectators of 
 the war of words between the two boys, rose at this juncture 
 to interfere, when suddenly the distant sound of a horn fell 
 upon our ears, and announced the return of a party of 
 scouts, who had been sent out three days before to find a 
 path to the river Ihuru. We therefore broke up the 
 gathering quickly and returned to the Fort, to hear what 
 news they had brought. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AXD THE DOG. 
 
 NOTHER Sunday came round, and with it 
 the usual homelike occupations and cares. 
 
 Stairs had gone back to Ipoto to fetch 
 the boat, which we had been obliged to 
 leave behind. 
 
 All of us missed him about the Fort, for there were so 
 few of us that the absence of one even of our fellow officers 
 made a great gap in our little family circle. Besides, too, 
 we all liked him well, he was Mr. Stanley's second in 
 command, and we found it pleasant to work with him. He 
 had left one of his servants, Abedi, behind in my care, as 
 the boy was unwell and unable to march rapidly. He was 
 an amusing little fellow and entertained us often with his 
 stories and remarks. He used to tell me about his life in 
 Zanzibar, and about his father, who was a carpenter, and 
 had made him a wonderful bed, which he described in 
 glowing terms ; according to him there never was such a 
 
52 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 bed. He told me about a favourite dog he had, called 
 Pensil, and a dozen other little things, all of which he 
 chattered about as I sat mending my clothes on Sunday 
 mornings. 
 
 There were great numbers of black and white wagtails 
 about the Fort. At night they used to roost in the roofs of 
 the houses, and all day long one might hear their cheerful 
 song as they chirped to each other and ran along the 
 ground after insects, wagging their tails and looking so 
 bright and happy. They were as tame as robins, and used 
 sometimes even to come into the houses if they saw some 
 temptingly fat insect near the door. 
 
 The Zanzibaris loved to see these wagtails about the 
 huts, and pretended to understand what their different 
 notes signified. Abedi told me if a wagtail came and sang 
 before the door in a particular way, and ran three times 
 round wagging his tail, that it portended the near ap- 
 proach of a friend. And so we whiled away the time 
 until the afternoon ; when we repaired as usual to our 
 tree. 
 
 Mr. Stanley used to tell the men the story of Joseph and 
 his brethren, of which they were very fond, and about 
 which they made all sorts of remarks concerning Joseph 
 and his treatment of his brothers. Their interest always 
 grew intense at that part of the story where Joseph sends 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 53 
 
 for Jacob, and Mr. Stanley described in picturesque 
 language the meeting of the young man with his aged 
 father. It was a story which appealed strongly to their 
 sympathies, and tears came into the eyes of many a rough 
 Negro as he listened to the tale ; for the Negroes are a 
 natural, simple race, and usually love their old people, 
 looking upon them as a sacred charge, most unlike the 
 young people of the present day, who look upon their old 
 people as a burden and a bore. 
 
 When Mr. Stanley had finished the story, Abedi, who 
 had been stroking Randy as he sat by his master's chair, 
 called upon Uledi to tell us the story of how the dog first 
 gave up his wild habits and lived with the children of men. 
 
 " Ay, Uledi, tell the Master about it," said Kheri, a huge, 
 good-natured chief, over six feet high, and as black as a 
 coal. 
 
 " Nay," said Uledi, " I am no story-teller, and words do 
 not roll from my tongue as they do from Murabo's. He is 
 the best story-teller of us all. Let him tell the Masters 
 about it." 
 
 " It is always I who am called upon," answered Murabo, 
 " and it is now your turn, Uledi ; we all know you have 
 more brains in your head than most of us." 
 
 But Uledi was not in a talking mood that day and 
 would only promise that if Murabo would relate the story 
 
54 STORIES TOLD JN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 of the Bog and the Leopardess he would tell us the story 
 of Kintu the following- Sunday. With this Murabo was 
 forced to content himself, and getting up began : 
 
 " Long years ago, before Zanzibar was a town or the 
 Arabs had penetrated Africa, the inhabitants lived in their 
 villages without any domestic animals. There were no 
 tame cattle, or goats, or even chickens in those days. Any 
 meat the people required they obtained by hunting the 
 wild animals of the forest ; game in those days was even 
 more plentiful than now, so that the natives never wanted 
 for food, and could kill enough game in a day to last them 
 a week. 
 
 " Now the first wild animal to become tame and domesti- 
 cated was a dog ; and it fell about thus. 
 
 " Far away to the West, near the outskirts of the Great 
 Forest there dwelt a widowed Leopardess. She lived with 
 her two cubs, Kenyi and Tomba, in a warm, sandy cave on 
 the shores of lake Tanganyka. Her husband, some time 
 before, had fallen into a pitfall and been killed by the 
 natives, and she now lived alone with her twin cubs, who 
 were only two months old. 
 
 " She was obliged to be out all day long hunting for 
 food, and was unable to look after her twins, whom she was 
 forced to leave alone in the cave. 
 
 " Like most mothers, she was very fond of her children, 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 55 
 
 and did not at all like leaving them alone, so at last she 
 determined to engage a nurse. 
 
 " She went round the country therefore and told all the 
 beasts of the forest that she wished to find a good, steady 
 nurse who could be depended upon to look after her 
 children carefully. Her friends promised to let it be 
 known that she required a nurse, and on the following day 
 three applicants for the post, a hyena, a fox, and a dog 
 stood before her. 
 
 " They asked her what wages she gave, and she told 
 them that they should have a comfortable home in her 
 cave and a share of the meat she brought home at night 
 from her hunting excursions. In return for this the nurse 
 would be required to look after her cubs while she was 
 away. 
 
 "'How do you think it would suit you?' asked the 
 Leopardess of the first applicant. 
 
 " ' He-yah, He-yah ! He-yah ! ' laughed the Hyena. ' I 
 don't know but what it might suit me, if there was not too 
 much to do, He-yah, he-yah, he-yah ! ' And the Hyena 
 laughed so loud and long that the Leopardess drove him 
 away, saying that such a flighty and flippant creature was 
 not fit to look after her precious babies. 
 
 " Turning to the second applicant, she said, ' What do you 
 think, Mr. Fox ; how would the place suit you ? ' 
 
56 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' Well,' said the Fox, ' I don't think the wages are 
 particularly good ; but I shall want three evenings out 
 during the week, for I have a family hard by.' 
 
 " ' Nay,' answered the Leopardess, ' I cannot have my 
 servants running out at night ; I know what it means, you 
 will be carrying away all the broken meat and scraps, and 
 I shall have to keep your family as well as yourself. 
 Besides, Mr. Fox, there is a cunning, crafty look in your 
 eyes which I do not like ; you too, may go, for I can see 
 that you will not suit me.' And the Leopardess, with a wave 
 of her paw dismissed him. 
 
 " ' What do you say, Dog ? ' she then asked. 
 
 " ' Well, I think, Madam, the place will suit me very well," 
 said the Dog ; " all I want is a comfortable home, and I 
 shall be satisfied with the bones ; besides, too, I am fond 
 of children.' 
 
 " 'Very well,' said the Leopardess, ' I think you will suit 
 me exactly ; you shall have as many bones as you like. 
 But before engaging you I must make one condition, 
 which is that everything that you eat must be eaten inside 
 the cave. If you take anything outside something dreadful 
 will happen, and a terrible disaster will come on me and 
 my family. Do you hear, Dog ? ' and the Leopardess 
 looked dreadfully savage. 
 
 "'I hear, Madam, I quite understand,' humbly answered 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 57 
 
 the Dog, as he wagged his tail in a deprecating manner. 
 ' It is an easy condition to observe, and I will see that it is 
 fulfilled.' 
 
 '"Very well,' said the Leopardess, somewhat mollified by 
 the Dog's humble answer, ' you may consider yourself 
 engaged.' 
 
 " For a week all went well. The Dog attended assiduously 
 to his duties ; he washed the Leopard cubs, and tended 
 them carefully : he smoothed the sandy floor of the cave, 
 and kept things neat and tidy. When the Leopardess 
 returned each evening tired out after her hunting excursions 
 she found everything" in order ; the cubs were clean and 
 neat, and when she lay down each night and called for the 
 twins to suckle them, the Dog brought them and laid them 
 by her side. Everything was as it should be, and she felt 
 thankful to have engaged so good and trusty a servant. So 
 things went on smoothly, until one evening the Leopardess 
 returned from a very successful hunting excursion, bringing 
 with her the meat of a beautiful fat giraffe. 
 
 " Oh ! those marrowbones ! How the Dog smacked his 
 lips and licked his jaws when he saw them ! After the 
 Leopardess had eaten her evening meal she retired to bed, 
 and the Dog secreted the choicest bones and promised 
 himself a splendid meal next day. 
 
 " Next morning as usual the Leopardess went out to hunt, 
 
58 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 leaving the Dog alone with the cubs. ' Now,' said the 
 Dog, smacking his lips, ' I'll have those bones. Dear me, 
 what a meal I'll have!' and his mouth watered at the 
 very thought of it. He took the cubs and laid them in the 
 sun, near the mouth of the cave, and stealing off to 
 the place in the back of the cave where he had hidden his 
 
 treasures, he selected a big shin bone, full of marrow, with 
 juicy little bits of meat sticking to it. Taking it in his 
 mouth he carried it to the entrance of the cave, and sitting 
 down began his meal. 
 
 " Ah ! how good it tasted ! and he smacked his lips again. 
 
 " But the floor was a little uneven, and the sand stuck to 
 the marrow and spoilt its taste, so little by little he shifted 
 
SWRY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 59 
 
 and wriggled himself ahead, until at last he had edged him- 
 self to the very mouth of the cave. 
 
 " There just ahead of him, a few feet only from the 
 entrance of the cave, he saw a little patch of green sward. 
 It looked so inviting, as the sun fell warmly and lovingly 
 upon it, that he said to himself, ' Ah, that 's just the place 
 for me to enjoy my bone,' and, forgetting the Leopardess' 
 warning, he carried the bone out of the cave. 
 
 " How velvety and soft the grass felt as the Dog lay down 
 with a sigh of content, and taking the bone between his 
 paws gave it a preliminary lick. 
 
 "But what happened to the bone? It would not keep 
 still ! The Dog attempted to seize it, but it evaded him 
 and began leaping in every direction as if possessed. Up 
 and down, in and out it leapt, pursued by the Dog, until 
 just as he thought he had caught it, the bone, giving one 
 final bound, struck Tomba, one of the leopard cubs on the 
 head and killed him on the spot. 
 
 " ' What s/uil/ I do now ? ' exclaimed the Dog, horror- 
 stricken, as he gazed ruefully at the dead body of poor 
 little Tomba. If Mistress returns and finds out what I 
 have done she will surely kill me. The best thing I can do 
 is to run away as fast as I can and get out of reach before 
 she returns," and suiting the action to the words, the Dog 
 turned to fly. 
 
60 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 " But it was too late, for as he reached the entrance of 
 the cave he saw the Leopardess advancing towards him. 
 The only thing now left for him to do was to hurry back 
 into the cave and put the cubs to bed. He had hardly 
 done so before the Leopardess entered. 
 
 " The Dog wagged his tail obsequiously and said ' Good 
 afternoon, Mistress, you are back early to-day, have you 
 not been successful out hunting ? ' 
 
 " ' No,' answered the Leopardess shortly. ' Nothing 
 seems to go right to-day. I just missed catching a fat 
 antelope, and almost immediately afterwards I got a thorn 
 in my foot, but I knew there was plenty of giraffe meat 
 left over from yesterday, so I returned home ; I shall do 
 no more hunting to-day. I don't know what it is, but I 
 feel as if something had gone wrong. Are Kenyi and 
 Tomba well ? ' And the Leopardess threw herself dis- 
 contentedly down on the floor of the cave and called for 
 her cubs. 
 
 "'Yes, Mistress,' cried the Dog, 'they are quite well, I 
 will bring them to you one by one.' 
 
 " The Dog went to the bed, and taking Kenyi in his arms, 
 laid him at his mother's breasts. When he had sucked his 
 fill the Leopardess called for Tomba. The Dog then 
 carried off Kenyi, and made as if to put him to bed, but 
 brought him back and laid him at his mother's breasts, 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 61 
 
 hoping she 
 would not 
 notice the 
 deception. The 
 Leopardess, however, 
 turning to caress the 
 cub, noticed at once 
 that it was Kenyi who was 
 again lying beside her. 
 
 ' What trick are you playin 
 
 me ? ' shouted the Leopar- 
 dess, and her suspicions 
 being aroused, she sprang 
 to the bedside and saw ly- 
 ing there the dead body of 
 Tomba. 
 
 " With a howl of fury she 
 turned upon the Dog, and 
 just caught sight of him as 
 he shot out of the door of 
 the cave and sped across 
 the plain. 
 
 "'Traitor!' shrieked the 
 Leopardess, as she bounded 
 after him, and then the 
 chase began. 
 
 " Up hill and down dale 
 
 they went, the 
 
 Dog in front 
 
 and the 
 
62 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Leopardess closely following him, the fire of fury darting 
 from her eyes making her terrible indeed. On and 
 on they went, over rocks and boulders, through streams 
 and bushes, till the Dog's tongue hung out from his 
 mouth and his breath came and went in painful gasps. 
 At last, when he was wellnigh exhausted, and the 
 Leopardess was close upon him, he spied a wart-hog's 
 burrow, and into this he shot for refuge. The Leopardess 
 strove in vain to follow him, for the entrance was too 
 small, and she stood glaring at the Dog, who sat panting 
 just out of her reach. 
 
 " ' I'll be even with you yet ! ' roared the Leopardess, 
 lashing her tail furiously at finding herself baffled. Look- 
 ing round to find some way of getting at the Dog, she saw 
 seated on the bough of a tree close by, a monkey, who was 
 an interested spectator of the scene. 
 
 " ' Ah ! I have him now ! ' thought the Leopardess, and 
 she called out to the Monkey, 'Monkey, Monkey, come 
 here ; I want you to help me, but if you refuse to aid me, 
 or play me false, I will kill you on the spot.' The Monkey, 
 in fear and trembling, promised to help her, and asked her 
 what he should do. 
 
 " ' I want you,' said the Leopardess, ' to stand here 
 and keep watch over the Dog while I go and collect 
 some sticks to burn him alive in the hole. If he 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 63 
 
 attempts to escape call out, and 1 will be after him like 
 lightning.' 
 
 "'Very well, Mistress,' replied the Monkey, 'you may 
 depend upon me.' And he took up his position as watcher 
 at the mouth of the burrow. 
 
 " Away went the Leopardess to gather sticks, and no 
 sooner was her back turned than the Dog called out, 
 ' Monkey, Monkey, you wouldn't be hard on a poor fellow 
 who has done you no harm ! I know many of your family, 
 and we have always been friends together. Pray let me 
 out of this hole before the Leopardess returns ! ' 
 
 " ' I don't want to harm you," replied the monkey, " I have 
 no grudge against anyone, but if the Leopardess comes 
 back and finds you gone she will surely turn and kill me.' 
 
 " ' Nay,' said the Dog, ' pretend that I am still in the 
 hole, and when the Leopardess returns, drop the sticks in. 
 She will never know that I am not here. Do but let me 
 out, and I will show you a dell, known only to myself, 
 where grow the choicest nuts ! 
 
 "The Monkey was not a bad fellow at heart, in spite of 
 his mischievous ways, and the Dog's promise made him 
 still more well disposed towards him, so he stood aside and 
 the Dog dashed off into the bushes. 
 
 " Almost immediately the Leopardess returned, bearing a 
 large bundle of dry twigs. 
 
64 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' Is the Dog safe ? ' cried she. 
 
 " ' Oh, yes, Mistress, he is safe enough,' answered the 
 Monkey, 'give me the sticks.' And the Monkey, seizing 
 the bundle, dropped the twigs into the hole, and with 
 them he also dropped some hickory nuts he had in his 
 pouch. 
 
 " In a short time the burrow was quite full of sticks, and 
 the Leopardess having set fire to them, sat down to witness 
 the burning of Tomba's murderer. 
 
 " As the flames burned up the hickory nuts began to 
 crack. 
 
 " ' Listen, Mistress ! ' exclaimed the Monkey, ( how his 
 bones are crackling. Oh, but he is having a hot time 
 down there ! ' 
 
 "'Ah!' roared the Leopardess, 'I swore I would have 
 my revenge.' 
 
 " Now all would have gone well," continued Murabo, " if 
 the Dog had behaved with simple common sense. But, 
 Master, he was as curious as a woman and wanted to see how 
 his plan worked. So, instead of making off as fast as he 
 could, he returned to a little hillock close by, and peeped 
 over a stone to see what was going on. 
 
 " But just at that very moment the Leopardess happened 
 to look up, and catching sight of him, uttered a roar and 
 was after him again like a streak of light. This time there 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 65 
 
 seemed no hope for the Dog, for 
 he was already tired. Away 
 they went across the plain, and 
 the Monkey at last lost sight of 
 them as they swept over a hill. 
 The Dog held on until he could 
 almost feel the Leopardess' 
 breath on his flanks, when sud- 
 denly in the distance he caught sigl 
 native village, with a number of people sitting 
 smoking round the fires. Gathering together 
 all his strength he made for the village, and 
 slipping through the palisade, took refuge in 
 one of the huts, where he fell down 
 exhausted. 
 
 " The infuriated Leopardess tried 
 to follow him, but the villagers, 
 who loved fair play, 
 
66 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 was the smaller of the two, and seizing their spears, after a 
 fierce fight they slew the Leopardess before his eyes. The 
 Dog was so grateful to the natives for protecting him, that 
 he passed his life amongst them, and died at a good old age, 
 with his children and grandchildren around him. 
 
 " Ever since then," continued Murabo, " dogs have 
 preferred to live with the children of men, knowing that 
 they were their best friends. The natives, growing accus- 
 tomed to having dogs about them, began taming other 
 animals, such as cattle and goats and chickens, and thus 
 it came to pass how animals were first used for domestic 
 purposes." 
 
 " Yes, Murabo has told the story well ; all that he says is 
 true," exclaimed Abedi, stroking Randy affectionately, 
 " and that is the reason, though we are Mahomedans, we 
 all like dogs." 
 
 " Yes," added Raschid, who could not bear to be left out 
 of the conversation, " most Mahomedans do not care greatly 
 for dogs, and consider them unclean animals. I remember 
 when I was a boy in Muscat if we wished to insult anyone 
 we called him " Kelb " (dog), but we in Zanzibar love our 
 dogs, for we remember that it is thanks to a Dog we first 
 had domestic animals." 
 
 " Eh, Baba," put in Abedi, " you know my dog Pensil, in 
 Zanzibar, and how I love him. He follows me about all 
 
STORY OF THE LEOPARDESS AND THE DOG. 67 
 
 day, and at night he creeps into bed with me. Ah, poor 
 Pensil, but he'll be old by the time I get back to Ungujia." 
 And Abedi heaved a deep sigh as the recollection of his 
 home in far-off Zanzibar floated across his mind. 
 
 The men, too, seemed struck by the same train of 
 thought, and a silence fell upon the group. So, wishing to 
 put an end to their broodings, we broke up the meeting, 
 and returned to the Fort. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE STORY OF KINTU. 
 
 OWARDS the end of March a gloom came 
 over our life at the Fort. Captain Stairs had 
 left us and had gone down river a month's 
 journey to Ugarrowa's to bring back the sick 
 men we had left there to the Fort. Captain Nelson was 
 prostrated with fever, and our leader, Mr. Stanley, was 
 suddenly struck down with an illness which wellnigh proved 
 fatal. 
 
 Dr. Parke was very busy in those days, and his entire 
 time was taken up in attending on Mr. Stanley, Captain 
 Nelson, and our sick Zanzibaris. How we blessed our 
 stars that he was with us ; how anxiously we looked for 
 his coming and going, and hung upon his words as if he 
 were an oracle ! The gloomy feeling extended itself to 
 the men, who went listlessly about their work, and asked 
 anxiously for news of the B'wana M'Kubwa's (Big Master's) 
 condition. The one thought in each mind was " what will 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 69 
 
 become of the Expedition if anything happens to our 
 Leader." 
 
 We thought of Major Barttelot and the rear column far 
 away ; of our sick men, with Captain Stairs, many days 
 distant ; of ourselves at the Fort, with the main body of 
 the men ; and of Emin Pasha, waiting anxiously for help. 
 In spite of ourselves, gloomy and depressing thoughts 
 would steal over us, and more and more anxiously we 
 hung on Dr. Parke's words, as we came from our Leader's 
 bedside. 
 
 Work, however, and action is the panacea for uncertainty 
 and brooding, and we went to work with a will. There 
 was still much to be done at the Fort, and I kept the men 
 hard at it all day. One party digging a deep trench and 
 raising earthworks, another building an outer stockade and 
 generally improving the defences of the Fort ; while a third 
 party continued to clear more land for planting corn and 
 beans. 
 
 The only thing to be done was to keep the men at work, 
 just as if our Leader were well, and to speak as little as 
 possible about his illness to the men, and pretend it was 
 nothing serious. The work went on therefore as usual, and 
 at the end of each day's work I went and sat by my 
 Leader's bedside, and told him what had been done and 
 how the work was progressing. 
 
70 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 Uledi fully shared our anxiety, but had sense enough not 
 to show it to the men, and he had promised me to do all he 
 could to help me to keep up their spirits. 
 
 Sunday came round, and all the morning I was in my 
 Leader's sick room. In the afternoon we met as usual 
 under the tree and I, being the only officer there that day, 
 called upon Uledi for the promised story of Kintu. He 
 was, I could see, taking our Leader's illness very much to 
 heart, and seemed disinclined to speak when the men urged 
 him to begin. 
 
 Looking at him, I said, " Uledi, I particularly wish you 
 to tell a story to-day ; remember what you promised me." 
 He understood at once, and answered, "Eh, Walah-Bwana, 
 I will try, but I am no story-teller. If it is work you want, 
 a coxswain for the boat, or somebody to lead the men, I'm 
 ready ; but as to telling a story, Bah, Master, what can I 
 do !" And he shrugged his shoulders and turned the palms 
 of his hands towards us, with a gesture expressive of 
 deprecation. 
 
 "Marwee!" cried the man jeeringly, "Who is it we look to 
 to help us when we are in trouble ? who is it cheers us up 
 and makes us laugh when our hearts are down in our 
 stomachs ? who is it we call Shaurihamseen (Fifty Plans) 
 because of his cleverness ? Why, even our little masters 
 themselves go to you sometimes for counsel when they are 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 71 
 
 in doubt ! You are too modest, Uledi, begin without more 
 talk, and keep your breath for the story." And the men 
 began to pelt him with bits of stick. 
 
 A gleaming row of white teeth was revealed, as a grin 
 came over Uledi's ugly, pock-marked face- — albeit a face we 
 all loved — and, warding off the sticks thrown at him, he 
 began his story without more ado. 
 
 " It is an old legend, master, which I learnt many years 
 ago, when I was little more than a kijana (youth). It was 
 during my first expedition with the Bwana M'Kubwa, when 
 he first sailed down the river Congo. Allah ! What a 
 journey that was, and how the Pagans fought us, and 
 shouted to us that they would have meat that night for 
 their cannibal feast ! It was when we were at Rubaga, and 
 the Bwana M'Kubwa was the guest of M'Tesa the king. 
 I will try to relate the story as it was told me by an old 
 man who was a sweeper in M'Tesa's palace. He called it 
 Hadithi Ya Kintu.' 
 
 {The Story of Kintu) 
 " In days gone by, many scores of generations ago, before 
 the world was as it now is, and when crime and bloodshed 
 were unknown, there lived a man called Kintu, a gentle, 
 holy, and guileless man, whose heart was as that of a little 
 child. 
 
72 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 "Now Kintu and his wife — whose name I do not re- 
 member — were wandering in search of a land in which they 
 might dwell and till the soil. After many years' wandering 
 in the wilderness, they came to a country on the shores of 
 the great lake Nyanza, which is now called Uganda. It 
 was a beautiful country, Master, with rich fertile valleys, 
 watered by the clearest streams. The hills were covered 
 with grass and trees, and the breezes from the Nyanza 
 blew over them at night, making them fresh and cool. 
 Allah ! It was a veritable Paradise ! 
 
 " Now Kintu and his wife brought with them to Uganda a 
 cow, a sheep, a goat, a chicken, a grain of matama, a banana 
 root, and a sweet potato, and with these they began their 
 work. They planted the roots in the rich soil, and imme- 
 diately there grew up vast fields of potatoes and corn and 
 great green groves of bananas, which yielded large bunches 
 of luscious fruit. The cow, the sheep, the goat and 
 chicken were so prolific that soon there sprang up great 
 flocks and herds of cattle, sheep and goats, and chickens 
 were as plentiful as the grass of the plain. Kintu's wife, 
 too, bore him sons and daughters, until Uganda was 
 peopled by his children and grandchildren, who tilled the 
 soil and milked the cattle and goats. Some of his children 
 moved away to the West, taking with them sweet potatoes, 
 which they planted in the soil. That, Master, is why to 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 73 
 
 this day the sweet potato is most eaten in Unyoro. Ihose 
 who moved north planted the grains of corn, and that is 
 why to this day the Shulis grow matama. 
 
 "And Kintu and his wife kept the bananas, which now 
 grow so plentifully in Uganda and Usoga, and his children 
 built themselves fine basket-work huts, and made large 
 villages, round which they planted shady plantain groves, 
 and here they dwelt in peace and plenty. 
 
 " Kintu ruled over his people with kindness and wisdom, 
 and as the sun set over the waters of the glorious Nyanza, 
 he looked out from his palace on the hill of Rubaga, over 
 the peaceful land, with a happy and contented heart, and 
 he found that his work was good, for there was no country 
 in the length and breadth of the land so happy and 
 prosperous as Uganda. 
 
 " But as the years rolled on, and Kintu grew to be an old, 
 old man, a change came over the land. The people became 
 slothful and wicked ; too much prosperity had spoiled them, 
 even as it does us to-day. Is it not true, Master, if we 
 become too rich and have no care or trouble, we become 
 selfish and slothful, thinking only of ourselves and our 
 stomachs ? We grow to be lazy, wicked, and quarrelsome, 
 and Shaitan enters our hearts and drives out love and 
 charity. 
 
 " And thus it was with the people of Uganda in that far-off 
 
74 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 time. They became lustful and envious, and grew bananas 
 only to make wine, which intoxicated and maddened them. 
 The son rose up against his father ; the daughter became 
 wicked and cursed her mother ; each man turned against 
 his neighbour to rob and pillage and kill, until the 
 whole land was drenched with blood ; and the wailing of 
 the helpless rose up to Kintu's throne, and cried out for 
 protection and mercy. In vain did the good old man 
 appeal to the people, and exhort them to return to their 
 former virtuous life ; they only scoffed at and mocked him, 
 and at last answered him even by threats. 
 
 " The old man sat in his lonely palace on the hill of 
 Rubaga and talked sadly to his wife of his ruined hopes 
 and the wickedness of their children. They thought of the 
 peaceful and happy days that were past, and of what 
 Uganda had been in the old days, when crime and blood- 
 shed were unknown. Then despair entered Kintu's heart, 
 for he felt that his work had been vain. 
 
 "At last he said to his wife, 'This land of Uganda, oh 
 wife, is no more a home for us, there is no longer place or 
 part for us in the life here. Whithersoever I turn I see 
 bloodshed and cruelty, and my ears are tortured by sounds 
 of war and woe, of weeping and lamentation. The young 
 men no longer listen to my words, my counsel falls on un- 
 heeding ears, for their hearts are hardened by wickedness ; 
 
THE STORY OF KIXTU. 
 
 75 
 
 wheresoever I go all men turn from me and draw away with 
 looks of mistrust and hate. 
 
 " ' Come, wife, let us be going. Let us rise up and depart 
 
 ir .,. : s ^r% \Xf% '/fi«cK;a 
 
 from this wicked land, we will not return until bloodshed 
 and cruelty have ceased.' 
 
 " Going out from his palace, he took a last look over the 
 beautiful land — still beautiful — but alas! given up now to 
 cruelty and lust. He stretched out his hands yearningly 
 
76 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 over his beloved country and lifted up his voice and wept. 
 Then, turning to his wife, he said, ' Come, wife, the day- 
 light is past, let us be going. We will take with us only 
 our original cow, sheep, goat, chicken, banana and potato 
 roots — perchance we may yet find a land where bloodshed 
 and cruelty are unknown.' 
 
 " And so, as the night fell, the Blameless Kintu and his 
 old wife passed away, hand in hand, into the Great 
 
 Unknown. 
 
 ****** 
 
 "When morning was come, the news spread abroad that 
 Kintu and his wife had departed, and sounds of fear and 
 lamentation were heard throughout the land. The people 
 were sore afraid now that he was gone, and feared lest 
 some evil should befal the country ; the blindness fell from 
 their eyes, and at last they understood all that he had been 
 to them, and bitterly bemoaned their loss. 
 
 " For many months they searched for Kintu, but in vain, 
 they found him not. And the Blameless Kintu, their 
 Priest, Patriarch and King, was no more seen in the fair 
 land of Uganda. 
 
 " But soon troubles of war fell on Uganda, and a plague 
 swept over the land. Strong men were stricken down with 
 a sore disease ; the women as they went to draw water from 
 the well fell by the wayside, and the children sickened and 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 77 
 
 died. Till the voice of the people rose up in a mighty wail, 
 and they cried out in terror and agony, 'Oh! why did we 
 let Kintu go ! It is our wickedness which has driven him 
 away and brought a curse upon the land.' 
 
 " Then they searched again yet more diligently for their 
 father, but alas ! they found him not, for he had vanished 
 from the land. 
 
 "And so king succeeded king and sat upon the throne of 
 Uganda ; but as the years rolled on the people never forgot 
 their father Kintu, and each successive king searched for 
 him in all the surrounding countries, for there was a belief 
 among the people that Kintu was immortal and would one 
 day return to Uganda. 
 
 " Now, after many generations, a king called Ma'anda 
 came to the throne : he was a just king and full of wisdom. 
 In the days of his childhood, as he sat by his mother's 
 knee, he heard from her lips the story of Kintu, and how, 
 through the wickedness of the people, he had departed from 
 the land and been no more seen. As he grew in years he 
 heard it, too, from the old servants about his father's house, 
 and it took strong hold upon his mind. When he grew 
 older he took a seven days' journey down the lake, to the 
 huts of the wise men, who charmed away evil spirits and 
 brought the rain, and they too told him the story. The 
 boy seemed never weary of listening to the legend, and 
 
78 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 sometimes he would wander off by himself in the forest 
 and ponder deeply over all that he had heard. And so, 
 day by day, a resolve grew up in his heart that when he 
 became king he would rule his country so wisely that 
 bloodshed should cease, and he would search yet more 
 diligently than any other king for the Patriarch Kintu. 
 
 " Under his rule Uganda became peaceful and happy once 
 more, and cruelty and murder were at last banished from 
 the land. At each new moon he went long journeys into 
 the forests and mountains of distant Unyoro and Usoga, 
 accompanied only by his faithful Katikiro (prime minister), 
 so that the people, thinking he followed the chase, called 
 him Ma'anda the Hunter. But it was not for the beasts 
 of the forest that he hunted, for the one thought that lay 
 ever at his heart was, ' Oh, if I could but find my father 
 Kintu.' 
 
 " Now one day as evening fell and the setting sun lit up 
 the waves of the Nyanza, touching the distant peaks of 
 Usoga with golden red, Ma'anda sat outside his palace on 
 the hill of Rubaga brooding sadly. The scene pleased him 
 not, and in his breast there was no joy for ruling over so fair 
 a land, for his heart was sore within him because he could 
 not find Kintu ; and he stretched out his hands towards the 
 distant mountains and cried in silent prayer, ' Father, have 
 I not obeyed thy commands ? Have I not banished murder 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 
 
 79 
 
 and bloodshed from the land ? Yet hast thou turned away 
 from me. Kintu, my father — where art thou ? ' 
 
 "And even as he stretched out his hands the faithful 
 
 "SPEAK quickly thy message.' 
 
 Katikiro came into his presence, and bowing to the ground 
 before him, said, ' May peace be with thee, my Master, as 
 incessantly as the flowing of waters. A. strange peasant 
 has just come from a distant country towards the setting 
 
So STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 sun, saying he has a message for thee, King, and it is for 
 thine ears only — may his tidings bring thee peace.' 
 
 " Trembling with eagerness, Ma'anda commanded the 
 stranger to be brought before him, and soon the King and 
 the peasant stood alone in the twilight on the hill of 
 Rubaga. Eagerly the King asked, ' What news hast thou 
 brought ? Speak quickly thy message, for I am weary of 
 waiting for the tidings my heart tells me thou hast brought 
 at last.' 
 
 " The peasant bowed before him and said, ' Thy servant 
 will speak quickly that which he has to tell thee. Many 
 days ago, O King, I was hunting in the forest near my 
 home beyond distant Unyoro, by the banks of the swift 
 M'werango, but that day the antelope kept far from my 
 feet, and wandering on till sunset I came to a mossy dell. 
 There were great trees round it, through the branches of 
 which the sunbeams fell, and from the middle of the soft 
 greensward rose a spring of crystal clear water. The 
 water bubbled up from the middle, and made the pure 
 white sand dance and play at the bottom of the fountain. 
 A clear bright stream ran from it, and laughed and sang in 
 the sunshine as it flowed over the pebbles and was lost in 
 the forest beyond. Ah ! King ! never have I seen a spot 
 so beautiful. 
 
 "'And as I drank eagerly from the spring, a feeling of 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. Si 
 
 drowsiness crept over me, and lying down at the foot of a 
 great tree I fell into a deep sleep, and as I slept I dreamed 
 a dream. An old man with a snow-white beard stood 
 before me, saying, " Rise up and go into the country of 
 Uganda, and tell my words to King Ma'anda. Say that 
 an old man awaits him here who will give him good tidings, 
 which will make his heart leap for joy. He must follow 
 thee to this place, accompanied only by his mother. Tell 
 him not a servant, not even a dog must he bring with him, 
 but only his mother and thee." 
 
 "'Thrice did the dream come to me,' continued the 
 peasant, ' and I journeyed day and night to bring thee the 
 message. And this is what thy servant hath to tell thee.' 
 
 " ' It is Kintu, my father ! ' cried Ma'anda, and the tears 
 rolled down his cheeks. ' Thou shalt be rich, O peasant, 
 and thy name made honourable in the land.' Then the 
 King, rejoicing, told his mother the story, and the three, 
 taking only a little food with them, stole off secretly by 
 night to the forest. 
 
 " But the faithful Katikiro had been watching them, and 
 fearing lest harm should befall his beloved master, he seized 
 his spear and followed them from afar unseen. Day and 
 night they journeyed on for many days ; at every fresh 
 opening in the forest Ma'anda turned to see that no one 
 was following, but the Katikiro watched carefully, and 
 
 G 
 
82 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 always hid himself behind a tree and kept from his master's 
 sight. 
 
 " At last, led by the peasant, they came to the mossy dell, 
 and there before them, seated upon the grass, they saw a 
 circle of old men clad in white robes. In front of them was 
 one with a snow-white beard, more venerable than the rest, 
 who rose as Ma'anda approached. 
 
 " ' Who art thou ? ' he asked in a clear, sweet voice, ' and 
 from whence hast thou come ? ' 
 
 " ' I am Ma'anda, King of Uganda,' answered the King. 
 
 " ' And who is this woman with thee ? ' 
 
 " ' She is my mother, whom thou hast commanded me to 
 bring.' 
 
 "'And hast thou brought no one with thee but thy 
 mother and this peasant ? ' demanded the old man. 
 
 " ' No one but these two,' answered Ma'anda. 
 
 "' It is well,' said the sage, 'for the words I have to say 
 are for thine ears only. My son, I am thy father Kintu. 
 Bloodshed and violence drove me from my beloved country, 
 and I vowed I would not return until they had ceased, and 
 a king should reign upon whose hands tJiere zaas no stain 
 of blood. I have watched thee, my son, with love in my 
 heart, for I have seen how bravely thou hast struggled 
 against the temptations that beset thee, and how nobly 
 thou hast striven to banish murder from the land. I have 
 
r S2 w 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 83 
 
 seen how thou hast searched for me, a hundredfold more 
 than any other king, and how thou hast kept all my com- 
 mandments, and my heart went out to thee to see how 
 nobly thou hast borne the test. And now, my son, the 
 
 time has come when ' But here the old man stopped 
 
 suddenly, saying, ' Thou hast deceived me — who is this 
 man behind thee ? ' 
 
 "Ma'anda turned and saw the Katikiro, who had crept 
 up to hear what the old man was saying. With a cry of 
 rage he bounded towards him, and seizing the spear from 
 his hand he drove it into the heart of his faithful servant. 
 The Katikiro, with a groan, immediately fell, and his blood 
 floiued out over the hands of Ma'anda. 
 
 " ' Ah ! Woe is me,' cried Kintu ; ' there is blood even 
 upon thy hands,' and even as Ma'anda turned, Kintu and 
 the elders, with a cry of horror, vanished from his sight 
 while their voices rang out through the forest, ' Woe ! Woe ! 
 Woe ! to the bloody land of Uganda ! ' 
 
 "Ma'anda and his mother rent their clothes in despair, 
 and cried wildly for Kintu to return, but the wind only 
 answered through the tree-tops, ' Woe ! Woe ! Woe ! ' 
 
 "And so," continued Uledi, "Ma'anda and his mother 
 
 returned sadly to their home, and from that day to this 
 
 Kintu has never more been seen, nor will he appear again 
 
 until bloodshed has ceased in Uganda." 
 
 ****** 
 
8 4 
 
 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 The men were all greatly struck with the story, and for 
 awhile we were silent. Uledi had told the tale most vividly, 
 using the quaint figures of speech with which the Zanzibaris 
 usually garnish their narrations. He seemed to feel it all 
 deeply, and as he repeated the tale in a low voice his ugly 
 
 J^^iax/wam^-- "=£. 
 
 face had grown softened and troubled, till he seemed to be 
 almost good-looking. 
 
 Binza was the first to break the silence. " Ah ! the 
 people of Uganda did not know how happy they were in 
 having such a king to rule over them until he had gone. 
 It is always so : there are times when our old people annoy 
 
THE STORY OF KINTU. 85 
 
 us and seem to thwart our wishes, and then in our anger we 
 rebel against them, and think that we ourselves know much 
 better than they ; there are times even when we almost 
 wish that they were gone. And yet, when they are gone, 
 remorse knocks at our hearts till, like the people of Uganda, 
 we cry out in our sorrow, " Ah ! why did we let our anger 
 burn hot against them ; why did we not love and value the 
 old people whom Allah in his goodness had given us ? " 
 
 " Ay ! " said the men, " it is always so : we never knew 
 how much we all cared for Khamis-kururu until he was 
 gone, and we used sometimes to think him a tiresome, 
 talkative, lazy old man. But when death took him we 
 remembered his kindly ways and missed his cheerful voice 
 about the camp. Then we recollected the good advice he 
 had often given us, and the thought of the many kind 
 things he had done rose up in our hearts and choked us as 
 we dug his grave on the banks of the Ihuru river, and left 
 him lying there, far from his home, with only Pagans around 
 him. Eh, Wallah Bwana, surely we should value our old 
 people while they are with us, and do our best to make 
 their lives peaceful and happy, lest Allah in his anger 
 should take them from us and leave our hearts sorrowing 
 and full of remorse." 
 
 "You speak with akilli " (sense), exclaimed Murabo, "we 
 never value our old men as we ought when we see that they 
 
86 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 can no longer run and hunt and have no strength. But 
 their heads are generally wiser than ours and their advice 
 worth listening to. I will tell you all a story about an old 
 man and five young men who thought they were wiser than 
 he ; but that story will do for another day when we and 
 the Masters meet here again together, and when Inshallah 
 (by the grace of God) the Bwana M'Kubwa is recovered. 
 We get so used to seeing our old people with us that we 
 do not understand how things would be without them." 
 
 "Ay, verily," cried all the men, "what should we do 
 without M'seh (old man) Raschid. He is no longer as 
 quick and strong as he used to be, but he is our father and 
 mother, and the old man's advice is always good. Truly 
 we should be uneasy if we did not see his face among us. 
 How do you treat your old people, Master, in Ulaiah ? " 
 (Europe). 
 
 And I answered I was sorry to say that we did not 
 always value them and treat them as we should, and that 
 white men as well as black had much to learn from the 
 story of Kintu. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 
 
 ^^p^^plN SUNDAY, March nth, 1888, I see in my 
 journal the following entry: 
 
 "This morning at 3.30 we were all turned 
 out of our beds by an invasion of red ants, 
 and most of us were frightfully bitten. We rushed out of 
 our huts stamping and beating ourselves and tearing off 
 our night clothes in our wild endeavours to get rid of the 
 ants, which had swarmed all over our legs and were biting 
 us viciously. The poor goats, which were tied to the 
 granary, were nearly driven mad, so we had to let them 
 loose, and could hear them running about in the darkness 
 bleating piteously." 
 
 Now one of the pests which troubled us at the Fort were 
 these red ants. None of the plagues of Egypt in the days 
 of Moses and Pharoah could have been worse than the 
 plague of these biting, ferocious ants. They made their 
 nests in holes deep down under ground, but at certain 
 
88 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 times they would issue forth in millions from their nests 
 and travel round ; sometimes they would go a distance of 
 half a mile in search of food. 
 
 They preferred travelling along the pathways, but 
 nothing stopped their progress. One would see sometimes 
 what, at a little distance, looked like a long reddish 
 coloured rope, about two inches broad, stretched along the 
 ground, but when you approached this seeming rope you 
 found it to be a moving line, formed of millions and millions 
 of red ants. On examining them, you found there were 
 two kinds, the workers and the warriors. They always 
 travelled together, the workers in the middle, protected by 
 the warriors, who marched on either side of them. The 
 workers were comparatively small, but the warrior ants 
 were quite half an inch long, and had enormous mandibles 
 or nippers, with which they seized upon any living thing 
 which came across their line of march. Sometimes when 
 we were marching, the men would unwarily step amongst 
 them, and the whole caravan would be routed by the 
 furious attack these red ants immediately made upon them ; 
 the men would throw down their loads and dash into the 
 bushes, madly trying to beat them off. It was useless 
 attempting to brush them away, for they held on far too 
 tightly, and even if you pulled their bodies in two, their 
 heads would still hang on and continue to bite. And so 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 89 
 
 you may imagine all living things fled before them and 
 gave them a wide berth. If they are passing near a hut, 
 and smell anything good to eat, they immediately swarm 
 into it and never leave off until they have eaten up every- 
 thing. If they cannot find the door they come in through 
 the roof or search for a hole or chink in the wall, through 
 which they pour like a stream of reddish brown water. 
 The only way in which to stop them is by emptying burn- 
 ing ashes about the floor, but they generally find another 
 way round. I myself have sometimes sat up half the night 
 surrounded by a little circle of burning ashes, waiting till 
 the red ants, which swarmed all over the camp, had gone. 
 
 One good thing they do is to clear out all the cock- 
 roaches, rats, and mice they find in the hut, into which they 
 go ; they make a clean sweep of everything, so that after 
 one of their visits the hut is for a while entirely free from 
 vermin. 
 
 There was a bird in the forest which the Zanzibaris used 
 to call the ant-bird, because they said it used to call out to 
 the ants where food was to be found. It had a peculiar 
 note, which the men interpreted thus : 
 
 " N ! jo ! N' jo ! N' jo ! 
 Watu ! hapa ! watu ! 
 Chakula siafu n' jo ! " 
 
 which in English means : 
 
90 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Come, ants, come ! 
 Here are some people ! 
 Come and eat the food ! " 
 
 And then the men told us the bird hopped about the trees 
 and waited till the ants had eaten their fill, and then, as pay- 
 ment for telling them where the food was, would suddenly 
 pounce down and make its own meal on a hundred or two 
 of the ants themselves. 
 
 Many of the birds and animals in the forest round the 
 Fort used to make very curious sounds, which at a short 
 distance sounded almost human. 
 
 There were big Chimpanzee monkeys which looked like 
 fat old men and women ; they were as big as the dwarfs 
 themselves. Sometimes we heard the little ones crying up 
 in the trees just like children ; we could hear the old ones 
 scolding them, just as if they were telling them they were 
 wicked, undutiful children. And then the little monkeys 
 cried again still more, and seemed to realize how bad they 
 were. We were seldom able to see them, for the branches 
 were interlaced so thickly together that it was like another 
 world, away up far above our heads, among those great 
 high tree tops. Still, if we kept quiet, we could often hear 
 them laughing and playing and quarrelling together, just 
 like so many human beings. 
 
 I remember one day we were rowing up the Aruwimi 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 
 
 9i 
 
 river in our boat the "Advance," and we passed by a place 
 where a number of huge apes were leaping from tree to tree 
 
 in a long procession. When they saw us they evidently 
 wondered who we could be, for they came and sat on a 
 bough overhanging the water, and watched us gravely. 
 
92 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 They looked so funny, sitting in a row with their arms 
 round each other's necks, and their tails hanging straight 
 down. Then two great big red monkeys, the patriarchs of 
 the family, came down lower and chattered at us ; they 
 seemed to be making rude, personal remarks about our 
 appearance, for all the rest of the family immediately joined 
 them, shaking the boughs on which they were sitting and 
 making faces at us ; it seemed just as if they were jeering 
 at and mocking us. We looked down at our tattered 
 clothes and felt absolutely ashamed, and for the first time 
 realized what ragged, dirty objects we must be. We abso- 
 lutely blushed, for those monkeys put us quite out of conceit 
 with ourselves and made us feel our inferiority. We all 
 seemed struck dumb with shame, and pulled on as fast as 
 we could to get out of reach of their rude and ill-bred 
 remarks ! 
 
 I recollect on this particular Sunday, seven of our men, 
 whom we had left because they were sick, some months 
 before, in a Manyema slave-raiders' camp, arrived at the 
 Fort. Poor fellows ! they were perfect skeletons, and they 
 told us terrible stories of the cruelty they had experienced 
 in the slavers' camp. Our Zanzibaris were delighted to see 
 them again, and nearly killed them with kindness. They 
 stuffed them with ripe bananas and goat's meat, and all 
 crowded round them to watch how much they enjoyed 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 93 
 
 having food again. They would not allow them to stop 
 eating, until at last, after being nearly dead from starvation, 
 they were in danger of being killed by too much food. 
 Our Leader, Mr. Stanley, was still very ill, and could not yet 
 be moved, but his illness had taken a change for the better, 
 and we were all in good spirits with the news the doctor had 
 given us of his improved condition. 
 
 That afternoon we met as usual under the tree, and some 
 of the men, who had that day come in from the slavers' 
 camp, came and sat with us, and told us such stories about 
 the Manyema that the men were all furious and indignant. 
 We talked of what we ourselves had suffered from them ; 
 of the time when we, a mere handful of tattered and half 
 starved strangers, had arrived at their village of Ipoto, and 
 been robbed by them. 
 
 No words of abuse were strong enough for our Zanzibaris 
 to describe in fitting terms what they thought of them, and 
 when all other words had failed, they ended up, as they 
 usually did, by exclaiming, with a shrug of their shoulders 
 " Bah ! Masters, what else could we expect from Pagans ! " 
 
 " But," we exclaimed, " the Manyema profess to be 
 Mahomedans ! " 
 
 " Nay, Masters," exclaimed Kheri, one of our chiefs, " you 
 must not think the Manyema are true sons of Islam, and 
 really know anything about the Prophet ; they are at heart 
 
9+ STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 nothing but Pagans, just as some of the white men are on 
 the West Coast, who profess to be followers of the Nazarene. 
 The Prophet teaches us to be kind to all strangers who 
 come to us in trouble, and tells us it is one of the things 
 which is most pleasing to Allah. True sons of Islam 
 should always be kind to strangers in distress." 
 
 "Eh Wallah, Abdullah," exclaimed Uledi, "can you not 
 remember the story of Daoud, which our mothers used to 
 tell us years ago. Tell it to the Masters now, and they 
 will see what we, the true sons of Islam, are taught about 
 hospitality even when we are children." 
 
 "Yes, Abdullah," we all cried, "tell it to us, for it is your 
 turn to-day for a story." 
 
 " Bah, Masters," interrupted Laki, who was one of the 
 wits of the camp, " I don't know what sort of hand Abdullah 
 is at telling a story, but I know he is a fundi at the cooking 
 pots. He eats more food on Jumah Tato (Sunday) than 
 would last me for the whole week. On Sundays he 
 is usually ' sJicba sana' (quite full), and is only fit to 
 sleep." 
 
 This sally of Laki's called forth a laugh from us all, for 
 Abdullah's love for the flesh-pots was proverbial. However, 
 unlike most greedy people, he was very good-natured, 
 so nothing abashed, he laughed good humouredly and 
 exclaimed, " Hold your tongue then, Laki, and be silent 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 95 
 
 while I tell the Masters the story of Daoud the Fisherman, 
 and how, through his kindness and hospitality to a stranger 
 in trouble, he gained his King's gratitude and became ruler 
 over all his household. 
 
 " Long, long ago, before Said Said came over from Arabia 
 and conquered the land, making Zanzibar an Arab country, 
 the kingdom of Ungujia consisted of several different 
 countries and islands, and each had its own king and 
 court. 
 
 "Far away to the south of Zanzibar lay an island, called 
 Combro, the first ruler of which was a king named 
 Saphoom. 
 
 " He was a wise king, and was much beloved by his 
 subjects, over whom he ruled in a firm and beneficent 
 manner. It was a beautiful and rich island, with great 
 mango and cocoa-nut groves growing down to the sea 
 shore, just as there are, Masters, in Zanzibar. You have 
 seen them there and know how beautiful they are, and how 
 the children play under the thick shade of the mangoes, 
 which grow up in dark green billowy masses high up like 
 mountains, with the orange trees among them, laden with 
 bright golden fruit and the cocoa-nut trees leaning lovingly 
 over till their long fan-like leaves almost kiss the water." 
 Here Abdullah heaved a sigh as he drew this picture of 
 far-off Ungujia and thought of his bright, peaceful home 
 
96 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 among the cocoa-nut and mango groves. How far off it 
 seemed to us all, that day ! 
 
 "Well, Masters, just such an island as Zanzibar was the 
 island of Combro, and there the King dwelt in his palace 
 by the sea shore with his two wives, Tijara and Hanima. 
 From the windows of the palace he caught glimpses 
 through the palm trees of the bright blue ocean rolling 
 in in great white breakers upon the golden strand. Every- 
 thing was bathed in sunshine. The cool breeze blew in 
 through the open windows of the King's palace, bringing 
 with it the scent of flowers, the distant sound of the sea, 
 and the gay laughter of the children as they played in the 
 surf on the beach below. 
 
 " And as evening was falling, the King would stand with 
 his two wives and watch his boats as they sailed gaily 
 home in the setting sun, laden with rich spices and stuffs 
 which they brought from the merchants of Ungujia and 
 the mainland. 
 
 " Allah ! Masters, how beautiful it all was, and what a 
 happy, peaceful life Saphoom led in his island out on the 
 great blue ocean. 
 
 " Now the King loved both his wives ; but he loved 
 Tijara best, for she was so beautiful, and gentle, and kind, 
 and was beloved by all who approached her, by reason of 
 her kindly gracious ways. But Hanima saw this, and was 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 97 
 
 consumed with jealousy, for she perceived that the King 
 cared more for a glance from Tijara than for all her 
 caresses. Then Shaitan entered her heart, and day by 
 day she sat in her chamber and brooded how she could 
 ruin Tijara and win all the King's love for herself. 
 
 " So one night she secretly stole from the palace and 
 made her way through the darkness to the hut of an old 
 medicine man who lived far away by a lonely swamp in 
 the middle of a great forest. She carefully concealed her 
 face so that the old man might not recognize her, and 
 asked him to give her a strong potion which would plunge 
 the person who drank it into a deep sleep. 
 
 " Having obtained the medicine, she hurried back to the 
 palace without anyone knowing where she had been. She 
 crept silently into the chamber where Tijara lay peacefully 
 sleeping. Allah ! how beautiful she looked as she lay 
 stretched upon the couch, with her long silken lashes 
 fringing her cheeks, and her beautiful bosom rising and 
 falling as she slept peacefully on, dreaming of Saphoom 
 and of her sweet happy life. But the sight of her beauty 
 only hardened the heart of Hanima, and as she gazed on 
 Tijara's loveliness she became almost mad with jealousy and 
 hate. Leaning over the prostrate form of her rival she 
 gently poured a few drops of the poison between the lips 
 of Tijara, who immediately fell into a stupor. 
 
 H 
 
98 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' Now,' muttered Hani ma, ' I will ruin her beauty, so 
 that she shall no longer find favour in the eyes of the 
 King,' and seizing a glittering knife she cut out the eyes 
 of Tijara. 
 
 " After a few hours the effect of the poison wore off and 
 Tijara awoke, and putting her hands to her eyes she found 
 she was blind. As she sprang from her couch she heard 
 the taunting voice of Hanima near her, saying, ' Now, oh 
 hateful Tijara, I have destroyed thine eyes, thou art no 
 longer beautiful, the King will turn from thee with loathing, 
 and will transfer all his love to me.' 
 
 "'Ah!' moaned the wretched woman, 'what have I 
 done to thee that thou hast destroyed my life and made 
 the world darkness to me for ever ? ' 
 
 "'Done!' hissed Hanima, 'hast thou not stolen from 
 me the love of my lord, and turned his heart against me, 
 and now I am revenged upon thee.' 
 
 " Stung by the taunts of her rival, and maddened with 
 despair for the loss of her beauty, Tijara fled from the 
 palace, followed by the mocking laugh of Hanima. On 
 and on through the dark night she fled, until she reached 
 the sea-shore, and then with a long, despairing cry she 
 threw herself into the sea and the waters closed over her. 
 ****** 
 
 " Now when morning was come, sounds of weeping and 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 99 
 
 wailing reached the King's ears, and hurrying past the 
 panic-stricken slaves, he came to Tijara's chamber. There 
 surrounded by weeping women, he saw the empty, and 
 blood-stained couch, and he understood that Tijara, the 
 light of his life was dead. 
 
 " Then the King rent his clothes, and throwing himself 
 upon the couch, kissed the pillows which had been so 
 recently pressed by the head of his beloved Tijara. 
 
 " Then there was a hurrying to and fro of the King's 
 warriors, who searched through the length and breadth of 
 the land for the destroyer of the Queen, but no traces of 
 the murderer were found. 
 
 " For many moons the King covered his head and lay 
 upon the ground and refused to be comforted. But the cun- 
 ning Hanima moved softly round Saphoom, and wept with 
 him ; and when the days of mourning were over, the King 
 rose and washed and anointed himself, and took her again 
 to his bosom, and Hanima was content. And so the years 
 rolled on, and Tijara and her sad fate seemed almost to be 
 forgotten by the people. But Saphoom never forgot her, 
 and when at night Hanima lay sleeping beside her lord, 
 he secretly mourned for the loss of his gentle companion, 
 and ceased not to cry in silent prayer, ' Tijara, Tijara, 
 Allah-hu Akabara.' 
 
ioo STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Now hard by the city dwelt a fisherman called Daoud. 
 He lived in a poor hut with his. seven daughters in a little 
 
 cocoa-nut grove by the sea-shore. He was very poor, and 
 toiled all day to support himself and his children. Early 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 101 
 
 in the morning he would be out in his tiny boat setting his 
 nets, and at mid-day it was his custom to carry his fish 
 into the city and sell them for a small piece of money, 
 which he exchanged for rice and 'bizarre' (curry stuffs). 
 But times were hard, for fish were scarce, and for many 
 days he had hardly caught anything, and Daoud began to 
 despair by reason of his ill-luck. 
 
 " Now early one morning as he cast his net he felt it was 
 heavy, and his heart leaped with joy, for he thought his ill- 
 luck had turned and at last he had caught a great draught 
 of fishes. What was his surprise on drawing the net to land 
 to find in its meshes a blind but beautiful woman. Then a 
 great fear fell on Daoud when the woman, as if awakening 
 from a long sleep, rose up, and in a sweet voice asked, 
 'Who art thou, and what is this land upon which I have 
 awakened ? ' 
 
 " ' And he answered, ' I am Daoud the fisherman, and 
 this, oh Lady, is the island of Combro.' 
 
 "'And who is the ruler of this land?' asked the 
 Stranger. 
 
 " ' The good King Saphoom is the ruler of the land, and 
 hard by is the palace where he lives with the Queen 
 Hanima.' 
 
 " 'The Stranger heaved a deep sigh and said : ' Has the 
 King then none other wife than Hanima ? ' 
 
102 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' None other, Lady, than Hanima,' replied Daoud, 'but 
 I have heard that years ago, when I lived in the island of 
 Pemba, the king had yet another wife, called Tijara, who 
 was more beautiful than the day. But one night she 
 disappeared, and though they searched throughout the 
 land for her, she was never found. The people say 
 the King has never been the same since then, for Tijara 
 was the light of his eyes.' 
 
 " Then the Stranger wept bitterly, and clasping her 
 hands over her sightless eyes, she talked to herself in a 
 low voice, so low that Daoud could not hear her words ; 
 but though he was only a rough fisherman his heart was 
 large, and he tried to comfort her. 
 
 "At length the Stranger drying her tears, said, 'Daoud, 
 mine heart tells me that thine is kind: wilt thou have pity 
 on a blind woman, and help a stranger who is poor and in 
 deep distress. Take me to thine house, and may God 
 reward thee for thy charity.' 
 
 " ' Nay, Lady,' said Daoud, ' though my hut is humble 
 and we are poor, I will turn no stranger in distress from my 
 door ; who but the poor should help the poor, and such 
 food and shelter as I have, I offer you in the name of the 
 Gods,' and taking her by the hand he led her to his hut. 
 
 " ' Now when the daughters saw their father bringing the 
 Stranger home they were wroth, and cried : ' Who is this 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 103 
 
 Stranger that thou hast brought ; hast thou not enough 
 mouths to feed, without taking in a stranger, and that a 
 blind woman ? ' 
 
 And Daoud's daughters began to reproach their father, 
 until the old man knew not what to do. 
 
 " But the youngest daughter, the gentle Dahara, with 
 tears of pity in her sweet eyes, exclaimed : 'Nay, father, 
 turn not the Stranger away, there is the little hut close by 
 in the cocoa-nut grove which thou madest last summer for 
 the fishing-nets, let her stay there, and I myself will tend 
 her ; it may be that her coming will bring us good luck.' 
 
 "Then Dahara led the Stranger to the little hut, and 
 making her a soft bed of sweet-scented grass, told her to 
 lie down and rest. And when the sun became low in the 
 heavens, Dahara taking a portion of her own frugal meal, 
 brought it to the Stranger and bade her eat. - Then saying 
 kind words to her, she called upon the Gods to watch over 
 the helpless woman, and bade her good night. 
 
 " Now when the sun rose, and Dahara went to the hut, 
 the Stranger said she wished to bathe, and Dahara brought 
 her a bath and clear cool water from the well in an 
 earthern jar. And as she washed the water fell from 
 her in a flood of gold and silver. It filled the bath and 
 flowed out over the floor, until the poor hut glittered in 
 the morning sun like a king's palace. 
 
104 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Running to the sea-shore, Dahara told her father what 
 had befallen, and going to the hut they gathered up the 
 gold and silver and hid it in a hole under the hearth. 
 
 "For three successive mornings the Stranger washed and 
 
 the gold fell trom her in streams, until Daoud had stores of 
 gold and silver as large as any noble in the land. 
 
 "Now on the fourth day Dahara dreamed a dream. As 
 she slept she heard a voice saying, ' Rise up, my daughter, 
 and go into the city, taking with thee a piece of the gold 
 which has fallen from the Stranger thou hast befriended. 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 105 
 
 Go into the market-place, and there thou shalt see an old 
 man with a green turban seated upon the ground with his 
 tray of merchandise before him. Give him the piece of 
 gold, and tell him thou comest in the name of the Gods. 
 He will give thee a red fish and a piece of ' Oudi ' wood. 
 Take them to the hut of the Stranger, and placing the eyes 
 of the fish in her eyes, thou shalt light the ' Oudi ' wood 
 and waft the smoke upon them. Do this, and the Gods will 
 reward thee.' 
 
 " As soon as Dahara awoke she told her father the 
 dream, and, taking a piece of gold with her, she wended 
 her way towards the city. And there, on entering the 
 market-place she saw an old man with a green turban 
 seated upon the ground, just as the voice in her dream had 
 described him. The old man on seeing her called out that 
 he had bracelets and wares for pretty maidens, and held 
 out towards her yellow amber necklets and glittering beads 
 of gold and silver. 
 
 " But Dahara put them aside, and offering the piece of 
 gold said, ' Nay, Baba, I want none of these, for I come in 
 the name of the Gods.' 
 
 "'And may they reward thee, gentle maiden, for thy 
 kindly heart,' answered the old man, as he drew out from 
 under his tray a red fish and a piece of ' Oudi ' wood, and 
 gave them to Dahara. 
 
106 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' Assanti Baba, lubda takuyia Kheri,' (thank you, father, 
 it may be good luck will come), she murmured, as she hid 
 them in her kanso, and turned towards her home. 
 
 " That night she and her father came quietly into the 
 Stranger's hut, and as she slept they put the red-fish' eyes 
 into hers and wafted the smoke of the ' Oudi ' wood around 
 her. Then, with a humble prayer to the Gods to bless 
 their efforts, the gentle girl and her good old father crept 
 silently away. 
 
 "With dawn of day Dahara stood by the couch of the 
 Stranger and watched in fear and trembling to see what 
 would befall. And as she watched, the sleeper's lips moved, 
 she stirred uneasily, and raising her hands to her eyes she 
 woke, no longer blind, but restored to all her former 
 glorious beauty. And at the sight of her dazzling beauty 
 Dahara fell on her knees and bowed herself to the ground 
 before her. 
 
 " But the Stranger raised her up and kissing her kindly, 
 said : 
 
 " ' My heart went out towards thee, Dahara, when I, a 
 blind outcast, first heard thy sweet voice pleading with thy 
 father and sisters for the Stranger. Thou knewest not 
 whom thou wast rescuing from despair, but knew only that 
 I was poor and in trouble, and that was enough for thy 
 gentle heart. Surely thy reward shall be great and thy 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 107 
 
 life made rich and happy. Go, fetch thy good old father, 
 that I may look upon his face and thank him for his 
 kindness and hospitality to the Stranger.' 
 
 " And when Dahara brought her father to the hut, the 
 Stranger spoke kindly, gracious words to him, and the two 
 bowed low before her, for she was of Queenly Presence. 
 ****** 
 
 " Now hard by Daoud's little plot of land lay a cocoa- 
 nut grove belonging to Najumbi, the King's steward. That 
 morning as Najumbi walked in the grove, he climbed a 
 cocoa-nut tree to gather fruit, and looking over the wall he 
 saw the Stranger washing, and as the sun fell on her he was 
 astonished at her loveliness. Quickly descending from the 
 tree he made his way to the royal palace, and prostrating 
 himself before the King said: 'Master, without offence, 
 I beg to kiss thine hands, and to tell thee what thy 
 servant has seen. As I walked this morning, Oh King, in 
 my cocoa-nut grove by the sea-shore, I became thirsty and 
 climbed a tree to gather some fruit. And there I saw in 
 the garden of Daoud the fisherman a woman more beauti- 
 ful than the day washing herself before a little hut in the 
 morning sun. And as I gazed some memory of past years 
 rose before me, for the woman seemed to me to be like the 
 lost Queen Tijara — peace be to her memory, only this 
 woman was ten times more beautiful. Then I hastened to 
 
108 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 come down from the tree and come before thee, oh ! King, 
 to tell thee what thy servant has seen.' 
 
 " Then the King trembled, for as he looked back through 
 the memory of past days, all his tenderness and love for 
 Tijara welled up in his heart, till he was consumed by 
 love and longing to see the strange woman who was like 
 her. So as the evening fell, the King, disguised as a 
 merchant, made his way to Daoud's hut, accompanied by 
 the steward. 
 
 " Entering the house he called for Daoud and told him 
 he had heard that he had a beautiful daughter and com- 
 manded him to bring her before him. Daoud, who 
 recognized the King through his disguise, was sore afraid 
 and stricken with fear, for he thought of the Stranger and 
 of the gold, and feared lest it might be found hidden under 
 the hearth and he and his children branded as robbers. 
 
 One by one he tremblingly brought his daughters before 
 the King, who impatiently waved each away. At last 
 Dahara came in, and Daoud told the King that she was the 
 youngest, and these daughters, seven in number, were all 
 that he had. The King looked at the gentle Dahara and 
 said, ' Verily, this maiden, thy youngest daughter, is fair 
 to see, but it is not she I seek, thou hast yet another 
 whom thou hast hidden from me. Bring her at once before 
 me or my vengeance shall fall upon thine head.' 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 109 
 
 "Daoud in terror threw himself at the King's feet, and 
 protested that he had no other daughter, and Dahara sank 
 on her knees before him and begged him to be merciful to 
 her father. 
 
 " But the King was wroth, and ordered the Steward to 
 bind him hand and foot and cast him into prison. 
 
 " But even as the Steward moved forward to do the 
 King's bidding, the Stranger glided softly into the room. 
 
 "Allah ! how beautiful she looked, with the flickering 
 lamp light falling upon her, as she stood there before the 
 King, with her hands crossed upon her breast and her sweet 
 eyes cast down. It seemed as if some beautiful spirit had 
 come down from above to that poor fishing-hut upon the 
 sea-shore. 
 
 " Then a loud cry of gladness rang out upon the still 
 evening, as the King crying : ' Tijara ! Tijara ! ' Allah- 
 hu-Akabara clasped her in his arms. 
 
 " Thus, after long years of separation and mourning, 
 King Saphoom and the long lost Tijara met once more. 
 ****** 
 
 " Soon it became known to the people in the city that 
 the dead was living, the lost was found, and that Tijara, 
 their Queen was restored to them. 
 
 " Hanima, as she sat in the Palace waiting for Saphoom 
 to return and wondering what kept her lord so long from 
 
no STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 her side, heard the criers in the streets shouting news 
 abroad, which was answered from all sides by loud acclama- 
 tions from the people. 
 
 " Some instinct of fear made her heart sink, for she 
 fancied she caught the name of Tijara, and creeping from 
 the palace on to the city wall she listened with bated 
 breath. 
 
 " And as she listened and strained her ears to catch 
 their words, the crowd came nearer and nearer until at last 
 she heard above the shouts of the people the words of the 
 criers, ' Hadithi ! Hadithi ! Hear oh people the welcome 
 news and rejoice ! This night our Beloved Queen, the 
 beautiful Tijara has been restored to us. Through the 
 wickedness of the cruel Hanima she was driven from us 
 and was lost, but this night, through the goodness of the 
 Gods she has been found by the King in the hut of the 
 fisherman Daoud.' 
 
 " Loud cries of joy greeted the words of the criers, and 
 the people, like a mighty flood, streamed out of the city 
 gate to welcome the King and Tijara. 
 
 " Then a great fear and trembling took hold upon 
 Hanima, and covering her head she fled through the dark- 
 ness and cowered, terror-stricken, among the rocks by the 
 sea-shore. 
 
 " And soon she heard in the distance a sound of horns 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. in 
 
 and drums, and the joyful shouts of the people, as they 
 moved along the sea-shore from Daoud's hut to the King's 
 palace. And as the procession approached, she saw by the 
 light of a thousand torches, surrounded by the dancing, 
 
 shouting crowd, the King reclining on his litter, and in his 
 arms was Tijara, more beautiful than ever. 
 
 '" I have lived long enough!' hissed Hanima, as with a 
 cry of fury and hate she leaped from the rocks into the sea ; 
 and the next morning her dead body was washed up upon 
 
ii2 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 the shore at the place where Daoud had drawn the blind 
 Stranger to shore in his net. 
 
 " And so it came to pass," continued Abdullah, " that 
 the King in his gratitude made the poor fisherman Daoud 
 ruler over all his house, and Dahara became the chief 
 woman in the Queen's chamber. 
 
 " And as time went on, Hanamouri, the King's young 
 brother, took the gentle Dahara for his wife, and she, too, 
 lived in a palace by the sea, and had servants and slaves to 
 do her bidding, and jewels and fine raiment to wear. 
 
 " There they dwelt in Combro in happiness and peace. 
 Tijara bore the king sons and daughters, and we, Master, 
 the people of N'gazijah, are the descendants of the good 
 King Saphoom and the beautiful Tijara. This, Masters," 
 concluded Abdullah, " is the story of Daoud the fisherman 
 as it is related to us in Zanzibar by our mothers when we 
 are children. And they tell us that we should remember, 
 like Daoud, to be kind to strangers, lest we turn some one 
 in distress from our doors whom Allah has sent to 
 befriend." 
 
 yfc ^ ^ •& ^k * 
 
 "That is a very pretty story, Abdullah," we all exclaimed, 
 " And we are glad to know that your mothers teach you 
 such things as gratitude and hospitality, for truly they are 
 pleasing to Allah. Know you not what the Hadji Abdullah 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 113 
 
 (Sir Richard Burton) has said about the Negroes having no 
 gratitude ? " 
 
 " Nay, Masters," interrupted Raschid, our head chief, 
 " the white man is not always just to the black, and does 
 not sometimes understand him. We have heard what the 
 Hadji Abdullah has said of us, and we know that 
 many white men in Ulaiya (Europe) are of his mind, 
 too. Yet, Masters, what kind of man is the Hadji 
 Abdullah ? Did he not, after a battle, gather together the 
 heads of his enemies in a sack and send them to Ulaiya, 
 so that all the people gave him the name of ' M'zungu 
 M'baiya ? ' (the wicked white man). What care we for his 
 words, even though he says that the black man has not 
 love for his women folk ; neither has he gratitude to those 
 who befriend him, nor affection for his kindred. I know, 
 Master, you and the little Masters would never say such 
 things of us, for we have been through troubles and have 
 faced death together ; it has made us to be of one mind 
 and heart, and the remembrance of many things we have 
 passed through together in the forest will always be in our 
 hearts. Do you not remember, Masters, when Osmani died 
 in the forest in the days of our wanderings, when we fought 
 against hunger and sickness ? Have you forgotten how, 
 when we left him lying there by the path, his last words 
 were of his mother ? Nay, if you have forgotten them I 
 
 I 
 
1 1.4 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 will repeat them, for they will remain ever here in my heart. 
 ' Give my greetings to my mother, and say In-shallah, 
 we shall meet in the land of God.' Those were Osmani's 
 words. Do not believe them, Masters, when they say that 
 the Negro knows not love, and has neither gratitude nor 
 affection ; for we love our mothers, even as the white man 
 does. Have we not the saying which was brought by our 
 grandfathers from the East, ' Allah cannot be everywhere, 
 therefore he has made mothers ? ' When we are children 
 is it not to our mothers that we always turn ? Is it not 
 she whom we think wiser than all the world, for she tends 
 us lovingly when we are sick and when we are tired with 
 play we love to return to her, to sit by her knee and hear 
 her tell us stories of far away countries and times. 
 
 " Then, too, is it not our mother who first tells us of 
 Allah and his goodness, and teaches us to pray to him for 
 all that we need. And, Masters, when our life is ended, and 
 we have reached the boundary of that long and rugged 
 way, where the gates of Paradise stand, and we see — if 
 Allah wills it — those gates roll open before us, whose hand 
 is it but our mother's which has helped us to open them, for 
 she has first given us the key ? And who knows, perhaps, 
 she will be the first to welcome us on the other side 
 when we have passed through the gateway of life and 
 death ? 
 
THE STORY OF DAOUD THE FISHERMAN. 115 
 
 " We know there are many bad and ungrateful men 
 among us, whose hearts are no bigger than a pebble, who 
 regard none else but themselves, and remember not in 
 their hearts the kindness of others. But what people are 
 there in all the world — whether black or white — who have 
 not bad men among them ? 
 
 " In-shallah, Masters, if we reach Zanzibar our mothers 
 
 and sisters, our wives and children and brothers will come 
 
 down with light in their eyes and love in their hearts to 
 
 greet us, then you will see if the Negro has not love and 
 
 affection for his kindred. 
 
 " So, B'wana. if when you return to Ulaiya you hear 
 
 people say that the black man is bad, think of the days of 
 
 our wanderings together, remember those days of starvation, 
 
 disaster and sickness ; forget not how the black man held 
 
 to you, and then tell them by the recollection of all these 
 
 things, that, though the Negro is rough, ignorant and often 
 
 wicked, he, too, has a heart and can remember." 
 
 "Eh, wallah B'wana," murmured the men, "verily 
 
 Raschid our father has the gift of speech, he has spoken 
 
 nothing but the truth, and has told you all that is in our 
 
 hearts." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE STORY OF KILINDI. 
 
 HE Fort and its surroundings were now 
 almost completed. Our four big watch towers 
 were finished and roofed in, they looked in 
 the distance like little Swiss Chalets. A big 
 ditch and earthworks had been dug round the Fort and 
 broad pathways and roads had been cut in the banana 
 plantations up to the edge of the forest. Our cornfields 
 too which were our greatest pride, and which promised an 
 abundant crop, had been completely fenced in by high 
 wattled hurdles. 
 
 We had now about eleven acres of ground under culti- 
 vation ; our beans had been ready some time, and we were 
 just beginning to eat green corn from the field which had 
 only been planted six weeks before. This will give some 
 idea of the rapidity with which things grew in our tropical 
 climate. We had a patch of tobacco growing well, and 
 all our men had their little gardens at the back of 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 117 
 
 their huts in which they grew pot herbs and wild 
 spinach. 
 
 In fact, things were now so complete that we felt we 
 might at last think of moving on and trying a second time 
 to reach Emin Pasha. Our leader, Mr. Stanley, had now 
 almost recovered his strength and was able to walk about 
 the Fort and direct the work, as he had been accustomed 
 to before his illness. 
 
 We had been working every day except Sundays, for two 
 months, from six in the morning till five at night, and we 
 all felt very proud of our work, for in the middle of that 
 great dark forest, shut away from all the world and 
 surrounded by hostile savages, we had made ourselves a 
 safe and comfortable home. This Sunday morning had 
 however been a sad one to us. Some days before a party 
 of thirty men had been sent out under one of our chiefs, 
 Munia Pembe, to try and find a ford by which we could 
 cross the river Ihuru. That morning they had returned 
 greatly dispirited, carrying in a hammock Munia Pembe, 
 who had been wounded by the savages. They brought 
 the news also that two of our best men, Salimani and 
 Kamweia, had been killed by poisoned arrows. 
 
 The men told us that they had all reached the river two 
 days after they started from the Fort and had encamped 
 in a small village, which they found deserted, on the river 
 
n8 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 bank. But that night, when they were sleeping, great 
 numbers of savages had come over in large canoes from 
 the other side of the river, and had attacked them, while 
 another band had crept up in the forest unawares and had 
 fallen upon them from behind. 
 
 Salimani and Kamweia had been killed at the first rush, 
 while several others had been wounded, and it had taken 
 them three days to fight their way back to the Fort, for 
 the savages had followed them nearly all the way. 
 
 We were all very sad at the news, for so many of our 
 men had already been killed by the natives, and we were 
 now reduced to a small band of men, 180 in all, so small a 
 band that every single friendly face was greatly missed 
 among us. The sick men were tended by Dr. Parke, and 
 Munia Pembe's wound was carefully dressed with medicine 
 which took away the poisonous effect of the arrrow with 
 which he had been struck. Numbers of our men too had 
 been waylaid and killed by the savages who prowled about 
 the forest near by, and now the death of these two had 
 made us feel more than ever how wise we had been to make 
 our Fort safe and strong. 
 
 We were talking rather sadly together when we took our 
 pipes that afternoon, and repaired as usual to the shade 
 of our tree. The men were speaking sorrowfully among 
 themselves about Salimani's wife, and Kamweia's mother, 
 
THE STORY OF KIL1NDI. 119 
 
 whom they knew in Zanzibar, and were saying how sad 
 they would be when we reached Zanzibar and found that 
 they were dead. 
 
 Alas ! there were many sad hearts on that day when 
 we reached Zanzibar nearly two years later, and the 
 news was told of the death of so many of our faithful 
 men. 
 
 Seeing how depressed the men were one of us told them 
 a story, I think it was the story of the Patriarch Abraham 
 with his flocks and herds. After the usual comments had 
 been made upon it by the men, we called upon Khamis 
 Parri, one of our chiefs, for a story. He had travelled about 
 the world a good deal, and spoke several languages, 
 English among them, for he had once been an interpreter 
 on board an English man-o'-war. He at once complied 
 with our request, saying, " M'seh Raschid last Sunday 
 spoke about the goodness and kindness of mothers ; I 
 will now tell you a story, Masters, about a step-mother 
 who was wicked and cruel. 
 
 " Long years ago, Masters, in the days of the good King 
 Saphoom of Combro, there lay on the sea coast, to the 
 north of Ungujia, a beautiful country called Kilindi. King 
 Munia Pembe ruled over the country, and built his city on 
 that fair tract of land which stands out into the sea in the 
 shape of a man's hand. You may see its form to this day, 
 
i2o STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 but now behind it runs the clear, deep harbour, which in 
 the first days of Kilindi was not there." 
 
 " How was that, Khamis," we interrupted, " why was the 
 harbour not there ? " 
 
 "Nay, Masters, be not so impatient. Nigojia kidojo 
 (wait a little). Had you been silent awhile you would 
 have heard, as my story went on, how it was that the 
 harbour was first made." 
 
 Khamis was quite put out at our interruption, for he was 
 a man who did not love to be hurried, but liked to take 
 things in their proper order, and tell his story in his own 
 way. 
 
 "Well, Khamis, tupa hadithi, tell your story as you 
 please ; our tongues shall be still and all our ears shall be 
 yours." 
 
 Khamis pretended not to notice what we had said. 
 He stretched himself out on the ground and gazed round 
 indifferently at the trees — at the cornfields — at the distant 
 Fort — and remarked that we should have a storm before 
 night. 
 
 "Nay, Khamis," cried the men, "the Masters wait for 
 the story, their ears are stretched to hear it, and they will 
 be dumb as stones." 
 
 After a pause sufficiently long to impress us with 
 the magnitude of our offence in breaking in upon the 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 121 
 
 story, he continued. " Well, Masters, Munia Pembe was a 
 powerful king, and Kilindi was a rich country. He had 
 servants and slaves in numbers, who used to bringdown to 
 the coast great caravans of ivory, oil and precious woods 
 from the unknown heart of Africa. 
 
 "Then, too, he had dhows and boats in plenty, which 
 carried his merchandise to Ungujia and Hindee, and 
 brought back rich eastern stuffs and spices, and gold for 
 ornaments from the Arabs and merchants. Oueri, Masters, 
 believe me, he was a very great king. 
 
 " Now, though he was rich and powerful, and had all 
 that the world could give him, he was sorrowful and weary 
 of his life. 
 
 "Once he had a beautiful son called Oumouri, who 
 was the light of his house ; but one day, when he 
 was swimming with his playfellows in the surf, a great fish 
 had seized him and carried him away before their eyes. 
 Since then the King's heart has known no rest, for God 
 had given him no other children. 
 
 " ' What,' cried he, ' are my riches, my ships, and my 
 palaces, when the son who was the joy of my heart is no 
 more ! ' 
 
 " Now after the King, the next man of power in the 
 land of Kilindi was the Kadi Mwili-fetha, or the Golden 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDL 123 
 
 instruments and sang wild, weird songs which they had 
 learnt in distant lands. 
 
 " Then, too, when Armi commanded them, they told 
 the girls of the strange things they had seen in the distant 
 countries and savage lands they had reached in their 
 search for ivory and gold. They told strange tales of the 
 countries they had seen in their travels ; countries inhabited 
 by savages who ate the enemies they killed in battle. 
 Countries where there were great forests which were 
 watered by rivers on whose banks lived people who wore 
 no clothes, and had tails like apes. People who trained 
 savage dogs to fight against their enemies and guard their 
 homes in the dark recesses of a great forest which stretched 
 far away towards the setting sun. 
 
 " And so the three grew up together in a friendship 
 that was strong and true. 
 
 " Now one day the Kadi Mwili-fetha sent for his 
 daughter, and Sophonea coming to him, said, ' Speak, 
 father, for thy daughter is before thee, and heareth with 
 an obedient heart.' 
 
 " And the Kadi answered and said : 
 
 " ' My daughter, I have seen the strong love which has 
 grown up between Karibu and thee. It makes mine heart 
 glad to see it, for she is a pure maiden and true, and I love 
 her almost as I love thee, mine own daughter. For 
 
124 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 many moons a thought has lain at mine heart how both 
 our lives may be brighter and made more full of happiness 
 and content. My daughter, though the freshness of my 
 youth is past, it has come to me that it were a good thing 
 to take to myself the mother of Karibu — the Bibi Raba — 
 for my wife. She, too, has lost the first freshness of youth, 
 yet she is still pleasing to the sight, and has long looked 
 upon me with kindly eyes. She would be a mother to 
 thee and Karibu alike, and we might all live together, in 
 this mine house, in happiness and peace. And now, my 
 daughter, I have opened mine heart, and have shown thee 
 the thought which has lain there so long. Speak, then, 
 all that is in thine heart, and tell me if this thing be 
 pleasing to thee.' 
 
 " ' Nay, father,' answered Sophonea, ' it is true that thy 
 first youth hath departed, but thou art not yet stricken in 
 years. If thine heart is set on the Bibi Raba, I bow to thy 
 will, for thy happiness is mine.' 
 
 "'Yet, my daughter,' answered the Kadi, 'though the 
 thought of this hath been with me long, a fear has come 
 over me lest perchance when the Bibi Raba came to mine 
 house she would not love thee, and then my heart would 
 break.' 
 
 " ' Fear not for me, my father,' said Sophonea, ' if thou 
 takest the Bibi Raba to wife I will be a dutiful and 
 
THE STORY OF KILIND1. 125 
 
 obedient daughter to her, and she cannot help but love 
 me.' 
 
 " ' What thou sayest is true,' answered the Kadi, ' thou 
 art so gentle and good, my child, that she cannot help but 
 love thee.' 
 
 " So, when the days of the wedding-feast were over, 
 Mwili-fetha took Raba for his wife, and brought her and 
 Karibu home, and the four lived together in his palace by 
 the sea. 
 
 " Now the Widow Raba had long coveted the riches 
 of Mwili-fetha, and the high and honourable place she 
 would take among the women of Kilindi as the Kadi's 
 wife. She had therefore feigned great love for Sophonea, 
 and had used every art to gain the affection of Mwili- 
 fetha's daughter. But now that she was his wife and 
 mistress of his house, she began to plot how she could ruin 
 Sophonea, for at heart she hated her with a bitter hatred, 
 and was jealous of her step-daughter because of her father's 
 strong love for her. She thought, too, if she could but get 
 rid of Sophonea that all the Kadi's riches and possessions 
 would fall to her and her own daughter, Karibu. But she 
 must be secret and wary, for she feared the Kadi, and 
 dared not do anything openly against Sophonea. Day by 
 day she watched, and waited, and plotted, till at last she 
 had weaved a plan for her step-daughter's destruction. 
 
126 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FORES'/. 
 
 So one day when the Kadi sat in the Temple of Judgment 
 dispensing justice to the different applicants who sat on 
 the pavement around the judgment-seat, Raba came out 
 into the baraza of the palace, where Sophonea and Karibu 
 were weaving the soft, coloured mats which the women of 
 Kilindi to this day love to make. 
 
 " She spoke soft words to them and said, ' come, my 
 daughters, the day is hot, put by the weaving. The karaffe 
 (clove) harvest is now at its height ; let us go into the 
 field and see how the labourers proceed with their work.' 
 The girls gladly threw their work aside, and Sophonea 
 — always kind and good — thanked her step-mother for 
 wishing to give them pleasure. But her very gentleness 
 served but to increase Raba's hatred towards her, and 
 hardened her heart against her to carry out the plan she 
 had made for her destruction. 
 
 " The bearers carried them in their litter to the karaffe 
 grove, and there, under the shade of the trees, the slaves 
 spread gay-coloured mats and soft cushions, and Raba and 
 the two girls reclined upon them. Fruit was brought 
 them by the slaves ; rich mellow plantains and juicy pine- 
 apples from the plantations hard by, and luscious aromatic 
 tasting mangoes and oranges from the fields and gardens 
 of Ungujia. A servant by Raba's order then climbed a 
 cocoa-nut tree and laid large green cocoa-nuts before them 
 
THE STORY OF KIL1NDL 127 
 
 — the tops of these being cut off furnished cups of sweet 
 cool milk, a drink fit for kings. 
 
 " Now Raba had hidden a small but poisonous asp in her 
 cloth and, unseen by anyone, she slipped it into her step- 
 daughter's cup. Then raising the fruit in her hand she 
 said, ' Let us drink, my daughters, of the cocoa-nut milk, 
 and be grateful to the Gods for having given us a draught 
 so sweet.' 
 
 " The girls raised the cocoa-nuts to their lips, but as they 
 drank the snake slipped down the throat of Sophonea, who 
 was immediately taken with strange pains and convulsions, 
 and fell to the ground. With a cry of terror and affright 
 Karibu raised her in her arms, while the slaves gathered 
 round with sounds of fear and pity, for they all loved their 
 young mistress. Raba, too, pretending to be full of 
 astonishment at the strange sickness which had seized her 
 step-daughter, called loudly for help. A litter was quickly 
 brought, and Sophonea being laid softly in it, the poor 
 girl, with moans and cries of pain and agony, was borne to 
 her father's house followed by the weeping servants. 
 
 ''As the Kadi sat in the Judgment Hall a slave rushed 
 suddenly in, and throwing himself at his master's feet cried 
 aloud, ' Rise up, oh Kadi, and come in haste, for Sophonea, 
 thy beloved daughter, lies sick in thine house, with the 
 pains of death upon her.' 
 
128 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 " Quickly the Kadi rose up, and entering his house he 
 beheld his daughter, supported by Karibu, lying on a couch, 
 like one in death. With a cry of sorrow and despair he 
 threw himself on his knees beside her and called wildly 
 upon her to speak. But his voice fell on unheeding ears; 
 for the the pains had again come upon her, and falling into 
 a deep swoon she lay like one in a trance. 
 
 " The wise men of Kilindi and the medicine men from 
 far and near were sent for, and they all talked learnedly 
 and shook their heads wisely round the couch of Sophonea, 
 but none of them could tell the nature of the malady 
 which had come thus suddenly upon her. 
 
 " All that night the Kadi and Karibu watched in turn by 
 the bedside of Sophonea ; but alas ! she grew worse and 
 worse, and the convulsions became stronger and stronger. 
 
 " Raba watched, too, with words of sorrow and pity on 
 her lips, but jealousy and hatred shone in her eyes, and 
 feelings of triumph were in her heart at the success of her 
 plot. 
 
 " The weary days dragged on and Sophonea grew weaker 
 and weaker, till she seemed to be slowly fading away before 
 their eyes. 
 
 " Now on the seventh day, as the Kadi watched by his 
 daughter's couch, Karibu lay down to sleep, and as she 
 slept dreamed a dream. A beautiful prince stood before 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 
 
 129 
 
 her and said : ' I know, Karibu, that thou lovest thy sister ; 
 give ear, therefore, to the words I speak, and follow the 
 counsel I give thee. Thy sister Sophonea lies at the point 
 of death, and her sickness has been caused by her wicked 
 
 " THE TWO WENT BEFORE THE KADI. 
 
 step-mother, the Bibi Raba. There is but one way by 
 which thy sister may be made whole. Listen then, and let 
 my words sink into thine heart. In the morning thou 
 shalt go before the Kadi and bid him send thy sister and 
 thee in a boat out to sea, and having done this he shall 
 put his trust in the gods and wait for what shall befall.' 
 
 K 
 
130 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " When morning broke Karibu rose up and stood before 
 the Kadi and told him her dream. Then was the Kadi 
 filled with wrath against Raba, but he refused to let 
 Karibu go, for his heart sank at the thought of losing 
 both his daughters. 
 
 "'What!' cried he; 'is it not enough that the wife I 
 took to comfort me in my old age has turned against me 
 and made my house a house of mourning, without sending 
 my daughter away, so that I shall not even see her die, and 
 shall I lose thee also ? Nay, my daughter, I will not let 
 thee go.' 
 
 " Karibu begged and prayed, but the Kadi only answered, 
 ' I will not let thee go.' So Karibu, weeping, left the 
 Kadi's presence and going to the young man Armi told 
 him her dream and asked him to help her. 
 
 " Then the two went hand in hand before the Kadi and 
 begged so earnestly, that at length a hope sprang up in 
 his heart that perhaps good luck would come of it and 
 Sophonea be healed. So at last he granted their prayer 
 and a boat was got read)', and food for the girls was put 
 into it. 
 
 " Next day the Kadi slaughtered cows and goats to 
 propitiate the gods, and at night he and Armi secretly 
 bearing Sophonea down to the sea-shore laid her in the 
 boat, while Karibu took her place beside her sister. Sad 
 
THE STORY OF K1LINDI. 131 
 
 were their farewells, and bitter the tears they shed as 
 Mwili-fetha and Armi raised their hands above their 
 heads and besought the gods to watch over the helpless 
 girls and guide the boat which held them. 
 
 " Then they pushed the boat into the water, and the 
 breeze caught the sail and carried her on through the 
 darkness till she faded away from their sight. And Armi 
 led the heart-broken Kadi back to his house and abode 
 there with him. 
 
 "The boat drifted out to sea with Sophonea lying still in 
 a trance and Karibu watching beside her. The tide took 
 them and carried them down the coast, and the winds and 
 waves caught the boat and tossed it to and fro, till Karibu 
 wept aloud in her loneliness and sang songs of lamentation 
 and farewell to her home and friends in Kilindi. The 
 fishermen of Pemba and Combro as they lay in their huts 
 heard her singing as the boat drifted by in the darkness ; 
 and as they listened to the sweet and mournful sound of 
 her voice they thought that the ' Spirit of the Sea ' passed 
 by, and hastened in the morning to light fresh lamps in her 
 temple and lay fresh offerings of fruit and flowers on her 
 altar. And the boat drifted on and on, the plaything of the 
 winds and waves. She drifted past islands and rocks 
 where the great seals lay basking in the sun, and they 
 
132 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 blinked their eyes lazily as the boat sailed by, asking each 
 other who these strange creatures were. Then they barked 
 and growled among themselves, till Karibu in fear clasped 
 her sister and cowered terror-stricken in the bottom of the 
 boat. She did not know that the seal is a kindly, harm- 
 less creature, and does not hurt people — she did not 
 understand, Masters, that seals, like a good many other 
 people in the world, bark and growl a great deal but mean 
 no harm by it. The dolphins and bonitos played and 
 dived in front of the boat as much as to say, 'You cannot 
 catch us,' and the flying fish flew like clouds of silver over 
 their heads. But still Sophonea lay in a trance, and the 
 boat drifted on and on. They passed the islands and 
 away from the land, and out on to the wide ocean where 
 the great green icebergs bowed their heads and plunged 
 and sailed before the breeze. Among them Karibu could 
 see the great whales, which looked far off like the black 
 hulls of ships, as they rose and fell in the water, and 
 spouted up clouds of spray and foam — till she feared lest 
 they should upset the boat. 
 
 " Here, too, flocks of birds filled the air. The great 
 white albatross — the holy bird which brings the breeze- 
 sailed in the air with outstretched wings, far above their 
 heads, while the greedy Molly hawks and gulls followed 
 the boat and quarrelled and screamed around them. 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 133 
 
 The wave birds, the little stormy petrels, skimmed over 
 the waves and darted in and out about the boat, like big 
 black and white butterflies. So all the birds of the air 
 followed them and watched them, and they too, like the 
 seals, wondered who the two girls could be. 
 
 " They drifted south till a great storm arose and drove 
 them northward : the sky became black as ink and the 
 wind raged and howled around them. The waves rose up 
 like mountains and swept the boat along while the spray 
 drove over them in showers. The thunder crashed and 
 roared, the lightning lit up the sky, and the boat shook and 
 strained and groaned as she bounded before the storm. 
 Karibu, with the sleeping Sophonea in her arms, crouched 
 down in terror, and prayed aloud to the gods to watch over 
 and protect them. 
 
 " For three days and nights the storm raged around them, 
 till at last, worn out with watching, Karibu fell asleep. How 
 long she slept she knew not, but when she awoke she found 
 the storm had ceased and the sun was shining bright and 
 warm upon her. Looking round she saw that the boat had 
 drifted towards an island, and was lying in a beautiful bay, 
 quite still upon the glassy sea. The bay lay stretched out 
 before her like the arc of a bow, and the soft swell lapped 
 up upon the golden strand and fell back into the sea in 
 tiny ripples with a sound like laughter. The cocoa-nut 
 
134 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 trees grew down to the water's edge, and their leaves 
 waved slowly to and fro in the soft morning breeze, while 
 the low hum of insects filled the air, and all the world 
 seemed bright and beautiful. 
 
 " Ah ! how peaceful the scene seemed to her eyes after 
 drifting so long on the ocean, tossed by the winds and 
 waves. Karibu rose up and ate and drank, the first food 
 she had eaten for many days, and as she leaned over the 
 side of the boat to wash the cup, she saw deep down in 
 the water below what seemed to her to be an enchanted 
 garden at the bottom of the sea. 
 
 " There were great red and yellow and purple wreaths 
 of sea-weed which grew up like trees from the snow-white 
 sand below, and as they moved to and fro with the tide 
 it seemed almost as if their branches were swayed by 
 the breeze. In and out among them swam gold and 
 silver fish, chasing each other round and round and playing 
 among their branches. 
 
 " Allah ! was anything ever so beautiful ! And as she 
 gazed into the depths below, slowly out from a cave of 
 coral at the bottom of the sea swam a beautiful Diamond 
 Fish which glittered like a jewel in the sun. Up and up it 
 swam towards her till it reached the surface, and looking at 
 her with human eyes, asked, ' Who art thou, fair maiden, 
 and from whence hast thou come ? ' 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 
 
 135 
 
 '"We are two maidens of Kilindi,' answered Karibu, 
 ' and my sister lies here like one in death.' 
 
 " Then she told the story of Sophonea's sickness, of her 
 dream, and of how they had drifted far across the ocean 
 to the island. 
 
 "'I will help thee,' said the Fish, and diving to the 
 
 bottom of the sea, it brought up in its mouth a little sand 
 and laid it in the hand of Karibu. 
 
 "'Now,' said the Fish, 'thou shalt make " uji upasi " 
 (thin porridge) of pili-pili and rice, and putting the sand 
 into it, thou shalt give it to thy sister to drink, and she 
 will be healed.' 
 
136 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " ' And what reward dost thou demand for thy service ? ' 
 asked Karibu. 
 
 "'At sun-down I will return to claim my reward,' 
 answered the Fish, as he dived down again to the bottom 
 of the sea. 
 
 " Karibu obeyed the Fish's commands, and making the 
 uji, she poured it down the throat of Sophonea. Violent 
 convulsions immediately came over the sick girl, until 
 Karibu feared lest her sister was dying ; but when the 
 convulsions had reached their height, the snake which she 
 had swallowed at last slid from her mouth and fell into the 
 sea. Soon the trance left her ; her blood resumed its flow, 
 and life came back to her once more. As Karibu stood 
 watching her she opened her eyes and awoke, and the tw r o 
 girls wept together and kissed each other in deep joy. 
 Then Karibu told her sister all that had happened, and 
 how the Fish who had helped her was to come at sun-down 
 and claim his reward. 
 
 " All day long they sat talking together in the boat, and 
 wondering what would happen. In fear and trembling 
 they watched as the sun grew low in the heaven for the 
 coming of the Diamond Fish, for they knew not what the 
 reward he Avould ask might be. Anxiously they watched 
 the sun as he dropped like a ball of fire into the sea, 
 and as he disappeared a sudden movement behind them 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDL 137 
 
 startled the girls, and turning round quickly they saw 
 standing before them a beautiful Prince. 
 
 " Sophonea started up in astonishment, crying, ' It is 
 Oumouri, the playmate of my childhood, and the Prince of 
 my dreams ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes, I am Oumouri, thou hast not forgotten me ! ' 
 cried the Prince, clasping her in his arms. 
 
 "'Ay! I remember thee too,' cried Karibu, 'thou art he 
 who came to me in my dream, and told me how I could 
 save my sister.' 
 
 " ' Yea,' answered Oumouri, ' I am he who appeared to 
 thee in a dream the night thy sister lay dying ; my thanks 
 be with thee for ever for listening to the words I spoke, 
 for thou hast saved both her and me.' 
 
 " Then Oumouri leaned over the boat and called aloud, 
 and up from the bottom of the sea swam a cloud of gold 
 and silver fish. And by the Prince's command they 
 fastened long wreaths of sea-weed to the boat, and taking 
 the ends in their mouths the}- drew it rapidly through the 
 water, away from the island, and out to sea. 
 
 "And Oumouri sat in the stern of the boat with 
 Sophonea's hand in his, and told the girls his story. He 
 told them that the big fish who had carried him away was 
 a wicked Magician, and how when he was dragged under 
 the water he had lost his senses, and awoke to find him- 
 
138 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 self transformed into a Diamond Fish on the shores of the 
 island of Lanka. 
 
 " The cruel Magician had power over his body, but the 
 Sea-God had had pity upon him, and had allowed his spirit 
 to appear to Sophonea in her dreams. The God had told 
 him that if he could but restore life to one of his fellow- 
 creatures he would be able to resume his own form once 
 more and escape from the power of the Magician. The 
 Magician had shut him up in a coral cave at the bottom of 
 the sea, and he had not been able to escape from the bay. 
 As the years went on, and no human beings had come 
 over the sea to the island he had despaired of ever regain- 
 ing his form and returning to Kilindi, but from time to time 
 he had appeared to Sophonea. His spirit had seen Raba's 
 cruel act to her step-daughter, and he had thought that by 
 this plan of the boat he might save both Sophonea and him- 
 self. The Sea-God had helped him, and had commanded the 
 winds and waves to bring the boat to the island of Lanka. 
 
 " The sand he had given to Karibu was the Magician's 
 magic sand and possessed marvellous powers of healing ; 
 and when Sophonea came back to life, at sun-down he had 
 been freed from the power of the Magician. 
 
 " And so, drawn by the gold and silver fishes, the boat 
 sailed back to Kilindi. 
 
 " The people in the city saw the boat coming and 
 
THE STORY OE KILINDI. 139 
 
 hurried down to the sea-shore to see who the strangers 
 could be. But the fish swam quickly on round the head- 
 land and past the city, and ran the boat upon the shore 
 with such force that it cut deep into the land. And, 
 Masters," continued Khamis, " it was by the boat that the 
 far-famed harbour of Kilindi was made. 
 
 " Immediately the boat struck the shore the gold and 
 silver fish regained their forms, and became men ; for they, 
 too, were youths of Kilindi who had long been under the 
 spell of the wicked Magician. 
 
 " The strangers were soon recognized, and messengers 
 were quickly sent to earn- the news to the King and the 
 Kadi, while the people, with joyful acclamations, accom- 
 panied them to the King's palace. 
 
 " The whole people of the city had assembled before the 
 palace, for the news of their return had spread abroad. And 
 a great cry of joy arose from the multitude when the aged 
 King, Munia Pembe, came down the steps of the palace, 
 and with tears of joy fell on the neck of his long-lost son 
 Oumouri. 
 
 " The Kadi, too, was sent for to his house where he had 
 shut himself up alone with Armi, mourning for the loss of 
 his daughter. And soon the two came to the King's 
 palace and clasped the wanderers in their arms. 
 
140 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " Then a great banquet was spread, and the whole of 
 the King's household sat down to eat and listened to 
 their wonderful story. And when the tale was told abroad 
 the people laughed and sang, and there was great joy 
 that night in Kilindi. For six days the whole city feasted 
 and rejoiced, and on the seventh day Oumouri took 
 Sophonea for his wife, while Armi married Karibu. 
 
 " This," said Khamis Parri, " is the legend ; some call it 
 the story of Mwili-fetha, and others the story of Kilindi." 
 
 " And what became of Raba ? " asked Binza, who always 
 wanted to know everything. 
 
 "Yes," exclaimed all the men, "tell us, Khamis, what 
 became of the wicked step-mother. The Kadi's vengeance 
 surely fell upon her ? " 
 
 ''Well," answered Khamis, "I will tell you. That night 
 when the girls started on their long journey in the boat, 
 the Kadi returned to his house to find that Raba, fearing 
 his vengeance, had fled, taking with her all the jewels she 
 could carry. By offering a large reward she persuaded a 
 boatman to row her across secretly to the island of Pemba, 
 hoping to hide herself there and escape punishment. But 
 in the night a storm arose which wrecked the boat, and 
 Raba never reached the shore, but was overwhelmed in the 
 raging sea." 
 
 " Ah ! " murmured Abedi, " it was but right that Raba 
 
THE STORY OF KILINDI. 141 
 
 should perish, for she was too wicked to live. How is it, 
 M'seh Raschid, that while our mothers are so kind, our 
 step-mothers are often so cruel ? " 
 
 Raschid scratched his head and seemed puzzled what 
 to say, but never liking to appear unable to answer 
 anything, he tried to turn the question aside by saying 
 to me, 
 
 " Do white men, Master, in Ulayia often take to them- 
 selves a second wife ? " 
 
 " Oueri, Raschid, indeed they do," I answered laughingly, 
 "and sometimes not more happily than Mwili-fetha. There 
 are Rabas in every country, Raschid, who are unkind to 
 their husband's children ; still, there are many step-mothers 
 who are kind." 
 
 " That is true, Master," remarked some of the men near 
 me, who immediately began to talk about some of the step- 
 mothers they knew, but from the remarks they made about 
 them I gathered that step-mothers were not much appre- 
 ciated in Zanzibar. 
 
 After some little talk, Mr. Stanley announced to the men 
 he had at last decided that at the beginning of the next 
 week he intended to start a second time for the Nyanza. 
 They hailed the news with joy, for the Zanzibaris do not 
 love to stay long in one place, and are never so happy as 
 when they are on the march. Noisy shouts of pleasure, 
 
H2 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 therefore, greeted this announcement, and everyone talked 
 excitedly about it. Some wondered, whether Stairs would 
 return from Ugarrowa's in time to go with us ; what path 
 we were likely to take, and whether we would find plenty 
 of food on the way. Others questioned whether we should 
 have much fighting with the natives ; how and when we 
 should at last find Emin Pasha, and twenty other things, all 
 of which they talked about at the top of their voices. 
 
 Everyone had something to say or some suggestion to 
 make, and they were still talking excitedly when the night 
 fell and we returned to the Fort. 
 
 That night we sat with our leader talking over various 
 plans and the prospects of the march before us. We could 
 hear our men outside talking and laughing round their 
 fires, some of them were even singing. Their sadness of 
 the morning seemed all swept away by the delightful 
 prospect of once more being on the march. 
 
 It was not that they did not grieve truly for the death 
 of their comrades, it was not that their hearts were un- 
 kindly, but it was merely because the) 7 were like children, 
 and each new feeling soon swept away the last. For 
 these simple, laughter-loving Negroes are most of them 
 in heart, after all, nothing but grown-up children. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. 
 
 HIS Sunday of April 1st, 1888, was our last 
 Sunday at the Fort, and on the next day 
 we were to start a second time for the Albert 
 Nyanza, leaving Captain Nelson, with forty- 
 five men and some women and children, to look after the 
 Fort while we were away. 
 
 Captain Stairs had not yet returned from Ugarrowa's 
 with the sick men we had left behind there. When 
 he started we expected him back in thirty-five days, 
 but he had now been gone forty-five days and we had 
 heard no tidings of him. What had happened to him 
 we could not imagine. Had he and his little band of 
 men lost their way and perished in that dark forest ? 
 Had hostile natives lain in wait for them and killed 
 them by the way ? Had he ever even reached Ugarrowa's 
 village ? These and a score of others were the questions 
 we asked each other as we anxiously waited his arrival. 
 
144 STORIES TOLD JN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 The pleasure of again being on the march and returning 
 to the Lake was greatly spoilt for me by his not being 
 with us. After our leader he was the most useful man 
 in the expedition, and worked well with Negroes and 
 Europeans alike. I myself was greatly attached to him, 
 for we thought alike on so many subjects, and had never 
 had an angry word together. Whenever he was away I 
 always missed him, for there is no place like Africa for 
 teaching one the value of a good and true comrade. I 
 knew, moreover, how disappointed he w T ould be at 
 having missed going back to the Lake and meeting 
 Emin, and how, with his love of movement and action, 
 he would fret his life out at the Fort, if indeed he ever 
 reached it. 
 
 But it was of no use repining, for we could not wait 
 for him. We could not rest ; we could not think of 
 lingering by the way ; we could not turn aside until we 
 had carried help to Emin ; for had he not written in 
 despair to the people of England, " Help us quickly, or 
 we perish." 
 
 So all that week we went on working hard to have 
 everything ready for a start. 
 
 Our Fort was now snug and safe for Captain Nelson 
 and his men, and it would be almost impossible for the 
 savages ever to get into it. We had overhauled and put 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. 145 
 
 in order all our guns, and had given a fresh supply of 
 ammunition to our men in case we should have fighting 
 on the way. They had got large supplies of flour ground 
 ready for the road, and all the boxes and loads had 
 been distributed to the different men to carry. The boat, 
 upon which depended so much, had also been got in 
 readiness. It was in twelve pieces, and each piece was 
 tied to a long pole and carried on the shoulders of two 
 men. Then, for the last few days, I had been busily 
 engaged in making new oars for the boat from small 
 trees which we cut down in the forest. It was our first 
 attempt at making oars, and Uledi, the coxswain of the 
 the boat, and I felt immensely proud of them. 
 
 We had forgotten nothing, and when that Sunday 
 morning broke all our preparations were finished. 
 
 In the morning Dr. Parke and I sat in the veranda 
 of our mud hut and patched and darned our tattered 
 clothes, for we wanted to cut a respectable appearance 
 when we met Emin Pasha's people. 
 
 The clothes we brought with us from home were 
 nearly finished, but we were clever in making others. I 
 remember Dr. Parke made himself a wonderful pair of 
 trousers out of an old blue and white-checked bed coverlet. 
 He covered his umbrella, too, with the same stuff, to match 
 his trousers, and very smart he looked with them. He 
 
 L 
 
146 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 was just like the " Blackamoor " in " Strewel Peter " who 
 walked out with his umbrella to take the air. and was 
 shouted at and pursued by the naughty little boys until 
 the great Magrippa caught them and dipped them all 
 into the ink. But the little Negro boys in our camp 
 were well behaved, and saw nothing to laugh at in our 
 Doctor's appearance. On the contrary, he looked very 
 grand and smart in their eyes, and when, later on, we 
 reached the Lake all the natives thought he must be a 
 king, or at least a prince, and brought him presents of 
 chickens and eggs, all on account of his blue and white 
 umbrella and trousers. 
 
 I worked away at my clothes, too, and patched up the 
 holes in my stockings with bits of cloth from an old 
 coat. And then I made myself two pairs of shoes, for 
 I was an excellent cobbler. I made them out of the 
 skin of a black and white spotted cow, and I left the 
 hair on, so that I, too, should have a gay appearance like 
 the Doctor, for I did not like to be outdone by him ! 
 And so we worked on, until by the afternoon we had 
 patched and mended ourselves from head to foot. 
 
 Doubtless, in Europe, we should have cut a sorry 
 figure, and appeared to be " mere things of shreds and 
 patches," but we ourselves thought we were splendid, 
 and were ready to face the whole world now that we 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AXD THE RAT. 147 
 
 were mended up. We walked proudly through the Fort 
 with a conscious feeling of satisfaction that our men were 
 all admiring our appearance, for we felt that we couldn't 
 possibly have looked better if we had been rigged out from 
 head to foot by the best London tailor and shoemaker. 
 
 And why was it that we were so satisfied ? I will tell 
 you ; it was simply because we had made everything 
 ourselves. 
 
 You will perhaps laugh at this, children, but it is true 
 for all that. You need to go through trials and hard- 
 ships far away from home ; to be shut away from civiliza- 
 tion for long months in the heart of an African forest ; 
 to be forced to depend upon yourselves for everything 
 you eat or wear to realize how little we can be happy 
 and satisfied with. 
 
 ****** 
 
 There were not many men under the tree that after- 
 noon when I strolled up with my pipe and sat down 
 at the edge of the forest for the usual Sunday gossip. 
 Raschid, our head chief, was there however, and Murabo 
 and several others. Mr. Stanley and Dr. Parke were still 
 in their huts, finishing little jobs or writing up their 
 journals, while most of the men were preparing and 
 packing up their food for the morrow's march. 
 
 After some talk one of the men began to speak about 
 
148 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 being worried the night before by the rats running over 
 him in his hut, Now as we extended our cultivation 
 and our granaries had become full, so the rats about 
 the Fort had increased and multiplied in proportion, 
 until at last they had become a positive plague. They 
 often disturbed us at night by scampering over us, or 
 dropping down upon our beds from the rafters of the 
 roof. We were wishing we had some cats about the Fort 
 to kill them, and I asked Raschid how it was that 
 while we saw so many dogs in the native huts we never 
 saw any cats. He told me that even in the villages 
 near the town of Zanzibar the people could never keep 
 their cats, for they always roamed away into the country 
 and became wild, preferring to hunt for their own food. 
 
 "You know, I suppose, Master," here remarked Nelson's 
 boy, Osmani, " why it is that the cat and the rat are such 
 enemies ? " 
 
 " No, Osmani," I answered ; "were they not always so ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, B'wana," he replied ; " they were once 
 great friends. Shall I tell you how through the greed 
 and laziness of the rat they first fell out ? " 
 
 " Aywah," exclaimed the men, "tell us about it !" and, 
 as we settled ourselves comfortably down to listen to the 
 story, Osmani began. 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. 
 
 149 
 
 "Once upon a time, long ago, Paka the cat and Pania 
 the rat lived together as friends on the island of Myoti, 
 or, as some call it, Maori. It was one of those small 
 islands which lie together, like a string of beads, to the 
 south of Ungujia. These islands were small and were 
 covered with woods, but were seldom visited by human 
 
 LET US LEAVE THIS ISLAND." 
 
 beings, who lived in the larger islands of Mouali, Combro, 
 Pemba, or on the mainland of Ungujia. 
 
 " And it was here that Paka the cat and Pania the 
 rat dwelt together alone in close friendship. They lived 
 in a small, dry, sandy cave in the rocks, and made 
 themselves warm, comfortable beds of dry leaves and 
 sa-ass. 
 
150 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 " They led a pleasant easy life, for there was plenty 
 for them to eat. The cat caught birds in the trees, and 
 the rat lived upon nuts and the roots of the mahogo 
 (manioc) plant which grew wild in great abundance on 
 the island. 
 
 " Now after they had lived together many years on the 
 island of Myoti, the rat one day said, ' Let us leave this 
 island, Paka, and go to the island of Mouali, in which 
 dwell human beings, I am tired of the life here alone ; 
 let us go and see how the children of men live.' 
 
 "'To be sure, Pania,' answered the cat; 'I am willing 
 to go, but between us and Mouali rolls the deep salt sea. 
 How shall we cross it, for the tide runs strong, and we 
 cannot swim so far?' 
 
 " ' Let us build a boat,' answered the rat. ' We will dig 
 up a big mahogo root which we can scoop out and 
 make into a canoe.' 
 
 " ' Queri/ said the cat, 'we will try.' 
 
 " After searching for some time they found a mahogo 
 root which the rat said was large enough, and digging 
 it up they set to work to scoop it out. 
 
 " The rat with his sharp teeth bit out pieces from the 
 inside, while the cat scratched and scratched at it with 
 his long claws, until, after several days' work, between 
 them they managed to make the mahogo root into a 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AXD THE RAT. 151 
 
 canoe. It was very thin and frail, and the cat wondered 
 much whether it would safely hold them. 
 
 "'Have no fear,' said the rat, 'it will carry us well; 
 
 " THEY SET TO WORK TO SCOOP IT OUT." 
 
 we will make some oars to paddle it along, and you 
 will see we shall reach Mouali safely.' 
 
 " Then they pushed the mahogo root into the water and 
 started off on their voyage to Mouali. 
 
152 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 "But it was farther than they thought and the tide ran 
 strong against them. 
 
 "The rat, who was lazy, soon got tired and hungry and, 
 laying down his paddle began to eat pieces of the mahogo- 
 root canoe. The cat, however, who was sitting in front, 
 went on paddling diligently until at last he was out of 
 breath. Turning round he saw that the rat had put 
 down his paddle and was greedily nibbling away at the 
 bottom of the boat. 
 
 " ' What are you doing,' asked the cat, ' am I to do all 
 the work ? Take care or you will eat a hole in the boat.' 
 
 " ' Nay,' answered the rat, ' I stopped but for a moment 
 to take breath, I am hungry, too, and am only eating a 
 little of the mahogo.' 
 
 "The cat was satisfied and went on paddling until he 
 was tired out, but the canoe seemed to him to move 
 very slowly, and looking round again he saw that the 
 rat was still nibbling at the canoe. 
 
 " This time he was very angry and cried ' You lazy, 
 greedy fellow ! you not only leave me to do all the 
 work, but in your greediness you will make a hole in the 
 boat and we shall both be drowned.' 
 
 " The rat, somewhat frightened by the cat's anger, begged 
 his pardon, and hurriedly taking up his paddle he began to 
 row again. 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. 153 
 
 " And so they worked on together for awhile, until the 
 boat was half-way between the two islands. But soon the 
 rat's greediness again got the better of him, and once 
 more he began to nibble at the boat, until he had gnawed 
 the bottom so thin that the water burst in and the 
 boat be^an to fill. 
 
 " AND SO THEY WORKED ON TOGETHER." 
 
 " The cat started up with an exclamation of fur)' and 
 anger and tried to seize the rat, but before he could do 
 so the boat sank and left them both struggling in the 
 water. 
 
 " ' You good-for-nothing fellow,' spluttered the cat as 
 he rose to the surface and swam towards the rat, ' you 
 
154 
 
 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 have eaten the boat, and now I will revenge myself by 
 eating you.' 
 
 " 'Wait,' gasped the rat, 'you cannot eat me here, for 
 the salt water will get down your throat, and make your 
 stomach sick ; let us swim on to the island and when we 
 land you can eat me.' 
 
 "'Very well,' said the cat, 'you swim on, and I will 
 swim behind to see that you do not escape.' 
 
 M s 
 
 " VERY WELL, YOU SWIM ON." 
 
 " So on they swam until they had reached the shore. 
 
 "'Now,' cried the cat, as they scrambled on land, 'now 
 I will make a meal off you, and punish you for your 
 greediness and treachery.' 
 
 " ' Wait,' answered the rat, at his wits' end what to do ; 
 ' be not so impatient, there is plenty of time to eat me, 
 let me but shake the salt water from my sides, I shall 
 taste much better without salt. Sit down in the sun and 
 dry your own coat, I shall be ready for you very soon.' 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AXD THE RAT. 
 
 155 
 
 " The cat agreed, and, sitting down, began to dry himself 
 in the sun. 
 
 " Meanwhile the rat, pretending to dry himself, began 
 scratching a hole in the ground as fast as he could, 
 
 
 " BUT THE RAT SHOT INTO THE HOLE/' 
 
 thinking if he only had time to make it deep enough, he 
 might even yet get out of the cat's clutches. 
 
 " The cat looked round suspiciously and asked him what 
 he was doing, but the rat assured him that he was only 
 shaking the water off his back, and the cat, satisfied 
 with his answer, went on cleaning himself in the sun. 
 
 " The rat went on scratching hard, and every now and 
 
156 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 then peeped round to see that the cat was not looking, 
 until at last he had made quite a deep hole and paused 
 on the edge to take breath. 
 
 "Just then the cat, who was now quite dry, made a 
 spring at him crying, ' Now, you treacherous friend, I 
 will eat you up ! ' 
 
 " But the rat shot into the hole and escaped from his 
 clutches. 
 
 "And from that time to this," continued Osmani, "all 
 cats have been enemies with the whole tribe of rats and 
 their cousins, the mice. 
 
 " So whenever you see a cat prowling round, you will 
 know, Master, that it is looking for its enemy the rat ; 
 for every cat tells her kittens the story of Pania the 
 rat's treachery to Paka the cat, and bids them never to 
 cease hunting for him." 
 
 "Is that really so, Osmani?" we asked. 
 
 " Oueri," interrupted Binza, " it is, I know, a true story, 
 for I have heard it told man)' times before. I wish, 
 though, the cat had caught the rat, for he deserved to 
 die for playing his friend so dirty a trick. The cat was 
 a great fool not to see through his trick, he should not 
 have waited, but should have eaten him up, ' chop ! 
 chop ! ' " 
 
 " Ay," said Raschid, as usual trying to point a moral 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AXD THE RAT. 157 
 
 to every tale, " see what a bad thing is laziness, and 
 the greediness which always goes with it, and how 
 often it kills friendship between us. Do we not see 
 greediness and laziness about us every day, and what 
 it leads to? Are there not 'goee goees ' (idlers) in 
 our camp who are never to be found when work is to 
 be done, who try to shift their work, as the rat did, 
 on to their comrades' shoulders, but are ever at hand 
 when the time for giving potio (rations of food) draws 
 near? It is the 'goee goees' who in the camp or 
 on safari who make bad blood among us, and give more 
 trouble to the Masters than all the rest. And greed 
 of gain and money is just the same thing, and works 
 the same mischief to us all. It was greed of gain 
 which turned Said Said, the Sultan of Muscat, against 
 our own Said Burghash his brother, and brought war 
 upon Ungujia. It is greed which changes the merchants 
 of Ungujia into slave and ivory raiders, like Tippu Tib 
 and Kilonga-longa, who have turned this land into a 
 desert. Why Masters, it was through greed that men 
 first became monkeys." 
 
 "You don't mean to say so, Raschid ! " I exclaimed. " Is 
 there a story about that too ? " 
 
 "Oueri, Masters," he replied, "it is called the story of 
 Kema na Niaan (the monkey and the ape) ; it is a 
 
158 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST 
 
 common story which we tell our children in Zanzibar, 
 every Zanzibari knows it. Hyia Omari, you have two 
 children and have often told it to them, I am sure, you 
 speak and tell us the story." 
 
 " No, M'seh, you know the story better than I, you 
 tell it to us." 
 
 The old man was quite pleased at having pointed 
 a moral, as he thought, so aptly, and nothing loth to 
 follow it up, he began the story without more persuasion. 
 
 " Years ago in the island of Pemba there lived two 
 friends called Makasara and Hassara. Makasara was a 
 big strong man, and Hassara was small and weak.' 
 
 " They had a little shamba (farm) where they used to 
 grow cloves, but they were idle and worthless, and loved 
 better to steal the fruit and corn from their neighbours' 
 fields than to cultivate their own crops. 
 
 " Near them lived an old man called Kibongi. He had 
 plantations of cloves, cocoa-nuts, and mangoes, and large 
 fields of corn and potatoes. He was a very rich man, 
 but miserly, and lived alone on his shamba with an old 
 slave woman who used to look after his house and cook 
 his food. 
 
 " One day as Makasara passed by he saw the old man 
 sitting on the floor of his hut counting over his money, 
 which he took from a large bag. He crept quietly round 
 
"EAGERLY HE WATCHED THE OLD MAN. 
 
160 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 the hut and watched him through a chink in the wall, 
 and as he saw the heaps of gold and silver his heart 
 was consumed with greed for it. Eagerly he watched 
 the old man, who, when he had finished counting it, put 
 it back into the bag and hid it in a hole in the floor 
 at one of the corners of the hut. Then Makasara crept 
 silently away, and told Hassara all that he had seen. 
 He told him that there was enough to keep them 
 in comfort and idleness for the rest of their lives if 
 they could only steal it. 
 
 " Hassara, who was timid, was afraid that they might 
 be found out. But Makasara told him how easy it 
 would be to get it, for the old man slept alone in his 
 hut. 
 
 " At last he persuaded Hassara to help him, and they 
 decided to steal the old man's treasure, and made a 
 secret place in their hut in which to hide it. In the 
 dead of night, therefore, they stole up to Kibongi's hut, 
 and opening one of the windows they crept into the 
 room. The old man was lying on his bed and seemed 
 to be sound asleep, so they crept past him to the corner 
 of the hut where the treasure was hidden, and began to 
 dig up the mud floor with their knives. But just as 
 they had found it and were dragging it out of the hole, 
 the cr ld gave forth a chinking noise, and at the sound 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. 161 
 
 the old man awoke. He started up in his bed, and 
 seeing, by the moonlight, the robbers making oft* with 
 his treasure, he called out ' m'wivi ! m'wivi ! ' (thieves ! 
 thieves !) and shouted loudly for help. 
 
 "In rushed the old slave woman, and she too set up 
 a shrill screaming, but Makasara seized the old man by 
 the throat and stabbed him to the heart, while Hassara, 
 
 ^^1^ 
 
 tfsr^ 
 
 "all joined in the chase." 
 
 thrusting the old woman aside, made off with the treasure, 
 followed by Makasara. 
 
 " Kibongi's cries for help and the screams of the old 
 woman had, however, awakened the people of the village 
 near by, who came running from ever)- side to see 
 what had befallen, and as the robbers ran away from 
 the hut, bearing the treasure between them, they were 
 seen by the villagers, who all joined in the chase to 
 hunt down the murderers. But the robbers ran so fast 
 that they distanced their pursuers and managed to 
 
 M 
 
1 62 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 reach the forest. And so they ran on and on through 
 the night until they were tired out, and when morn- 
 ing broke they climbed up into a big tree and hid 
 themselves among its branches. There they stayed, for 
 they were afraid to come down from the tree for fear 
 of being seen by the people and being killed by 
 them. 
 
 " They dared not leave the forest, and were afraid even 
 to light a fire to cook their food, lest their hiding place 
 would be discovered, so they fed upon nuts and wild 
 fruit and roots. 
 
 " The days passed by and grew into weeks and months, 
 until from being up in the tree so long, and holding on 
 to the branches, their feet became like hands. Their 
 fingers grew like claws from digging up roots, and, as 
 as their clothes wore out, hair began to grow all over 
 their bodies. Their mouths, too, became large and wide 
 and their teeth long and sharp, from cracking nuts 
 and eating roots. So day by day they became more 
 and more ugly, until at last they began to lose their 
 power of speaking and could only make chattering 
 noises. 
 
 " One day they discovered that each had a white spot 
 in the middle of his back, at which they became very 
 frightened, and tried to hide it. 
 

 %%mM 
 
 THEY FED UPON XUTS AND WILD FRUITS AND ROOTS" 
 
"THEY FOUND THAT THEY HAD BECOME MONKEYS." 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AND THE RAT. i6j 
 
 " But slowly out from the white spots grew long hairy 
 tails, until one morning when they woke up they found 
 that they had become monkeys. Makasara was changed 
 into a big, savage ape, and Hassara into a little, chattering 
 monkey. 
 
 " And that Master," concluded Raschid, " is how mon- 
 keys were first made. The savage baboons, and gorillas, 
 and apes are the murderers and felons, and the small 
 monkeys are the thieves and liars. And all this, Master, 
 as I said before, came from greed." 
 
 "Oueri," murmured the men, "that is the truth ; the old 
 man has Akili, and speaks well. 
 
 " What you say, Raschid," I exclaimed, " is strange, for 
 we have a learned man in Ulayia, called Bwana Darwin, 
 and he tells us that men have sprung from monkeys ; that 
 agrees not with your story." 
 
 " Then, Bwana Bubarika," answered Raschid contemp- 
 tuously, " Bwana Darwin must be without sense, for who 
 ever heard of monkeys becoming men ? I never have, and 
 I am now an old man. The Wa-Swahili are not the only 
 people who believe that wicked men are changed into 
 animals ; why, even the Wa-Shenzi (Pagans) know that 
 hyenas and leopards, and other fierce beasts, have once 
 been evil men." 
 
 "Well, Raschid," I replied, "I think that Bwana Darwin 
 
1 64 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 probably knows better than you do, and is more likely to 
 be right, for he is a real fundi and speaks with Akilli. 
 And he has books, too, Raschid, by hundreds, books 
 which have been written by other fundis as clever as 
 himself." 
 
 Raschid seemed staggered by this ; for he thought that 
 evidence coming from books must be right, and he 
 scarcely knew what to say. The men, too, looked at each 
 other in doubt, as if they hardly knew which of the two, 
 Raschid or I, was most likely to be right. 
 
 But Murabo, the wit of the party, covered Raschid's 
 confusion, and came to his rescue by exclaiming, with a 
 twinkle in his eye, " Eh, Wallah Bwana, you may both be 
 right. It is quite possible that white men may have 
 sprung from monkeys, but we all know that black men 
 have not. Raschid, our father, is not mistaken." 
 
 We smiled at this suggestion of the inferiority of white 
 men's origin, and I laughingly retorted, " Nay, Murabo, I 
 do not think that that is likely, for you must allow that 
 the black man's nose and mouth is much more like a 
 monkey's than a white man's." 
 
 " It may be so, Bwana," he answered, " yet if you take 
 any monkey and thrust his hair aside with your fingers you 
 will find that his skin is always white." 
 
 As he said this he pulled down his lower eyelid with his 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT A AH THE RAT. 165 
 
 finger and looked sideways at me in such a comical 
 manner that we all burst out laughing, and I had to admit 
 that he had the best of the argument. 
 
 And so, with a good deal of chaff and laughter at my 
 discomfiture, we returned to the Fort, from which for the 
 last half hour the sound of horns and drums had reached 
 our ears faintly across the corn-fields. 
 
 As we entered the gate we found that all was noise and 
 laughter. Drums and horns were sounding, while one of 
 the men was strutting about in imitation of General 
 Mathews, the head of the troops in Zanzibar, pretending to 
 drill a body of men who were got up fantastically in skins 
 and feathers. He gave the words of command, " Shoulder 
 arms," " Present arms," " Stand at ease," in broken 
 English, and made the men go through the most absurd 
 figures, much to the amusement of us all. They were all 
 perfectly wild with excitement at the thoughts of marching 
 on the morrow and reaching the open country, where there 
 would be plenty of good food to eat. 
 
 We stood on one of the watch-towers looking at them 
 all dancing and singing until darkness came on, and we 
 went to our huts to eat our frugal supper of porridge, the 
 last I was to eat at the Fort. 
 
 Though I was glad to be on the move again I could not 
 help feeling a little sad when I went to bed that night at 
 
1 66 STORIES TOLD IN AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 the thought of leaving the place which we had made 
 ourselves, and which had sheltered us so long. 
 
 ****** 
 
 At daybreak next morning, when the trumpet sounded, 
 most of us were already astir, packing up the few things 
 which we had left out over-night. The men were drawn 
 up in companies in the square yard, those who were going 
 with us on the one side, and those who were remaining 
 with Captain Nelson on the other. 
 
 When all the loads were given out, and everyone was 
 ready to start, Mr. Stanley stepped out before the men 
 and said a few helpful, kindly words to all. 
 
 To the men who were going to the Lake he spoke of 
 reaching Emin Pasha and of the march before us. To 
 those who were remaining at the Fort he said farewell, 
 promising a speedy return and urging them to be obedient 
 and faithful to Captain Nelson, and to have all things in 
 order when he returned from the Lake. 
 
 This they all cheerfully promised, and the final farewells 
 being said, amid many expressions of good-will from 
 all, the trumpet sounded, the flags were unfurled, and 
 each man, picking up his load, marched away from the 
 Fort. 
 
 I brought up the rear and was the last to leave. 
 Captain Nelson accompanied us to the edge of the forest 
 
THE STORY OF THE CAT AXD THE RAT. 167 
 
 and stood waving his hat to us until a turn in the road 
 hid him from our view, and we left the Peaceful Fort 
 behind. 
 
 It had really been to us, up to that time, a peaceful fort 
 in spite of the hard work and many troubles we had had 
 there. There had been a certain element of home about 
 it, and I could not but experience a feeling of regret at 
 leaving it behind. Aly fellow officers returned to it after- 
 wards and lived there a long time, but I myself did not 
 come back, long months of imprisonment were in store 
 for me, and I never saw it again. 
 
 This, children, is the end of my little book, and I hope I 
 have been able to interest you in what I have told you. If 
 it did not take too long I should like to have told you more 
 about our life ; how we found and rescued Emin Pasha, and 
 brought him with his people safely down to the coast. I 
 should like to have told you, too, something of how we 
 lived happily for months in little grass huts among the 
 hospitable " Stranger People," the Wa-huma, or Shepherd 
 Kings, who dwelt among their flocks and herds on the 
 breezy, grassy uplands near the great lakes of Central 
 Africa. A kindly people, living in all simplicity and in 
 happy ignorance of everything belonging to the great rest- 
 less world outside. Not knowing what hurry and bustle 
 
1 68 STORIES TOLD IA T AN AFRICAN FOREST. 
 
 is, but living as their fathers and grandfathers have lived 
 before them, unchanging for a hundred generations. 
 
 But I must say farewell to you now. As I write these 
 words, and think of those days that we passed there, a 
 kindly feeling of sympathy and gratitude rises up in my 
 heart for those simple, trustful people who live contented 
 with their lot in that rich, fertile country in the heart of 
 Africa — people who showed us so much kindness and 
 hospitality. My thoughts go back, too, to our faithful 
 Zanzibaris who stood by us so loyally and worked for us 
 so well in our long and terrible march across Africa. 
 And this little book contains some of the stories they 
 told us in the middle of the cn-eat dark forest. 
 
 CHISWICK PRESS :— C. WHITT1NGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. 
 
^ 
 
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