‘I was born in a wood near a river. The trees grew in the water, and the slime of the water was oily at their roots. At night a hot mist came—very damp. Sometimes no moon, no stars, shine through that mist. It is the breath of the spirit of that land, and it kills strangers who come from afar. In the woods it was very dark, the branches kept the sun out; but near the river were huts, and round them corn grew and maize, for there the trees were burnt with fire, and the sun came hot—hot. My father was a warrior, and could slay his foes. He was strong, and had a great fetish. His war-club was heavy, and his bow was long, and his arrows hit the mark. My mother toiled, she reaped and baked, she thatched the hut, she paddled the canoe, she was strong. If she grew tired, my father lifted his war-club and then she worked on. In the hut was a broad bed of leaves, also calabashes to drink from, spears and clubs, and tools of iron. Also knives and an axe, which white men made. Also a god of palm-wood, with a necklace of wild beasts’ teeth. One hour from the hut, the brown river met the sea: there was a bay there, and many huts. Where the river met the sea were rocks: canoes could go from the salt-water to the fresh, but not ships, because of the rocks, on which were white waves, very fierce and high. In a big hut near the sea, the king lived, with all his wives and slaves. He was a great king, and made war upon other kings. My father went to these wars, but I stayed in the hut at home. When I was yet little, I learned to dive and to swim, and to paddle a canoe. I loved the water better than the woods. I loved the brown river, and the sea which tossed, and heaved. If the waves filled the canoe, it was nothing to me; I laughed and swam. If a great root of a tree in the brown slimy river upset the canoe, it was nothing to me; I laughed and swam. I did not fear the shark out in the blue water; I could dive under him when he turned upon his back to swallow me, and his teeth glistened in white rows. I did not fear the muddy crocodile in the river, and in the silent creeks, black and deep, which he loves: his back is hard, but his belly is soft, and I could drive a knife into him, so that he would lash his scaly tail and die. I tell you I could swim on the water like birds which live there, and I could dive like the fishes which are beneath. My father could swim and he could dive, but I could swim further and dive deeper. My father called me the “Long-breathed,” and when ships came to where the river joins the sea, I dived down from them, and the mariners gave me cloth and nails. Then I was happy; I had enough to eat, and oil to anoint me and make my limbs supple and strong, and a fetish which was very good.