Ja-Ja was rather overcome with the responsibility of entertaining the consul and his friend at so short a notice, and seemed so distressed that he had no civilised ‘chop’ to offer us, that we proposed to go on to the mouth of the river and dine with the white traders in the hulks, and return on the morrow to a grand ‘chop’ or banquet at Ja-Ja’s. So the old king brought out some calabashes of _mimbo_ or palm-wine—which tastes like soap-suds and gin—and, what was more acceptable, a bottle of very drinkable Rudesheimer, and saw us down to our boat, followed by all his rabble rout of subjects. The next morning, in a tropical downpour, we were received at Opobó with due honour. One of the rusty old guns had been turned right side uppermost, and was being banged away at a great rate, to the imminent risk of everybody within a hundred yards of it. Ja-Ja, with a largely reinforced guard of more truculent-looking ragamuffins than ever, awaited us on the beach. Tom-toms and horns vied in their din with the shrieks, yells, and howls with which the untutored subjects of Ja-Ja honoured their monarch’s guests. In the principal room of the palace we found the table laid for our repast, and Miss Johnson was continually changing from the languid super-fine importance of the reception-room to the fierce invective and stern command of the kitchen, or back again, as circumstances required. It required several applications of severe corporal punishment to the wretched slaves—to judge from the howls we heard when any hitch occurred—before what is termed the ‘chop’ was served. Neither beef nor mutton can be reared on this pestilent coast, so the choice of viands is not large; but what was wanting in variety was made up in quantity. Kids stewed and roasted whole, great fish, and fowls enough for a ship’s company, were served up, all in great clay bowls, and all made into ‘palm-oil chop,’ the prevailing dish of the coast. This is a sort of greasy curry, made with many spices and the finer parts of the palm-oil, very trying to European stomachs unaccustomed to such delicacies. Mimbo, again, was the principal drink, and Ja-Ja pledged us all in mimbo many a time and oft; but although I can stand palm-oil _or_ mimbo, I cannot stand palm-oil _and_ mimbo, so contented myself with a beverage at once less soap-suddy and less intoxicating. Ancient steel knives and forks were produced with an air of proud superiority by Miss Johnson for our use; but Ja-Ja, although he made a timid attempt to use them too, soon gave it up as a dangerous experiment, and took to his fingers with a sigh of relief, handing us out the titbits, moreover, by the same medium.