“There!” said he to himself, “just what I expected. The crocodile isn’t
far off!”
With this he dived swiftly, but not sufficiently so to avoid coming
into contact with an enormous body, the scaly surface of which
scratched him as he passed. He thought himself lost and swam with
desperate energy. Then he rose again to the top of the water, took
breath and dived once more. Thus passed a few minutes of unspeakable
anguish, which all his philosophy could not overcome, for he thought,
all the while, that he heard behind him the sound of those huge jaws
ready to snap him up forever. In this state of mind he was striking out
under the water as noiselessly as possible when he felt himself seized
by the arm and then by the waist.
Poor Joe! he gave one last thought to his master; and began to struggle
with all the energy of despair, feeling himself the while drawn along,
but not toward the bottom of the lake, as is the habit of the crocodile
when about to devour its prey, but toward the surface.
So soon as he could get breath and look around him, he saw that he was
between two natives as black as ebony, who held him, with a firm grip,
and uttered strange cries.
“Ha!” said Joe, “blacks instead of crocodiles! Well, I prefer it as it
is; but how in the mischief dare these fellows go in bathing in such
places?”
Joe was not aware that the inhabitants of the islands of Lake Tchad,
like many other negro tribes, plunge with impunity into sheets of water
infested with crocodiles and caymans, and without troubling their heads
about them. The amphibious denizens of this lake enjoy the
well-deserved reputation of being quite inoffensive.
But had not Joe escaped one peril only to fall into another? That was a
question which he left events to decide; and, since he could not do
otherwise, he allowed himself to be conducted to the shore without
manifesting any alarm.
“Evidently,” thought he, “these chaps saw the _Victoria_ skimming the
waters of the lake, like a monster of the air. They were the distant
witnesses of my tumble, and they can’t fail to have some respect for a
man that fell from the sky! Let them have their own way, then.”
Joe was at this stage of his meditations, when he was landed amid a
yelling crowd of both sexes, and all ages and sizes, but not of all
colors. In fine, he was surrounded by a tribe of Biddiomahs as black as
jet. Nor had he to blush for the scantiness of his costume, for he saw
that he was in “undress” in the highest style of that country.
But before he had time to form an exact idea of the situation, there
was no mistaking the agitation of which he instantly became the object,
and this soon enabled him to pluck up courage, although the adventure
of Kazeh did come back rather vividly to his memory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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