Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic OceanStanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic Ocean
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904 -- Travel -- Africa, Central
While all this was at its height, and as we were unable to comprehend
anything that the natives bawled out to us, we placed our captives in
their canoe, and, giving each a few shells, motioned them to depart. As
the warriors on the bank saw their friends return, they all gathered
round the landing-place, and, as they landed, asked scores of questions,
the replies to which elicited loud grunts of approval and wonder. The
drumming gradually ceased, the war-cries were heard no more, the people
left their processions to crowd round their countrymen, and the enormous
spear-blades no longer flashed their brightness on us. We waited about
an hour, and, taking it for granted that after such a signal instance of
magnanimity they would not resume their hostile demeanour, we quietly
embarked, and glided down the river unopposed.
Not desirous of risking another encounter this day, we sought the
shelter of a wooded island opposite an uninhabited forest, and arranged
ourselves in the wild woods with due regard to safety. Yet we were not
unobserved. Some stray fishermen gave notice to the populous settlements
below, and a furious drumming at once began from each bank, which was
maintained without intermission until morning.
The river was gradually increasing in breadth; from 3000 yards it grew
to 4000 yards wide. Islands also were more numerous, with dense roofs of
green foliage upheld by the trunks of the tall patriarchs. We were
getting weary of fighting every day. The strain to which we were exposed
had been too long, the incessant, long-lasting enmity shown to us was
beginning to make us feel baited, harassed, and bitter. Dared we but
dash down by night? Ah, but who could tell us what lay below! Whom could
we ask, when everything in the shape of man raised his spear and
screamed his rage at us as soon as we were observed!
So we emerged out of the covert and forest shades of the island with
soured and embittered feelings. But we would cling to the islands, and
close our ears against their infernal noise, and turn our eyes
resolutely away from the advancing cannibals until they came within
spear-throw of us, and then, why—we will fight again.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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