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Updated: May 23, 2025
The path I was following led to an open space, which had been used as a plantation by the natives, I guessed, by finding a few plantains growing on it. Passing across it, we discovered another path, which led further into the forest. "Dis no man path," observed Chickango. "Elephant make it."
Senhor Silva, with Stanley and Chickango, accordingly started off, the two boys and I accompanying them to see the sport. Chickango led us some way up the stream, where, on a rock among the trees which lined the island in the centre, we saw a huge monster.
Our assailant, meantime, disconcerted by the piece of the tree still clinging to his tusks, went crashing on through the underwood till he had got to a considerable distance from us. His nearest companion, fortunately a female, followed him. "Load, massa, load!" cried Chickango to me. Alas!
They had recovered their spears, which, still red with the blood of the elephants, they held in their hands, ready to dart at Timbo and Chickango. Seeing this, my friends halted, and placing their muskets on the ground, held up their hands as a sign of peace, addressing their countrymen, who quickly replied, turning their glances every now and then at me.
Scarcely expecting that Senhor Silva could have returned so soon, they set off in the hope of falling in with the strangers, accompanied by an escort of the Kabomba people, who were anxious to show their gratitude by guarding them on their way. They had fallen in, as I have mentioned, with Chickango, and arrived safely at Donald Fraser's camp.
Jack Handspike undertook to act as chief architect, although Chickango and Timbo, I suspect, knew more about the actual work than he did. "Now, boys," he sung out, "the first thing we have got to do is to place the craft in the right position for launching, so just see that the tree falls towards the river." Senhor Silva interpreted Jack's remark to Chickango.
"I must trust, therefore, to others." "No fear, captain," observed Timbo. "Jack, Chickango, and I soon do de work. First t'ing find big tree; and Senhor Silva got axes, so we soon cut it down." Before the day was over we found a large tree, not more than three hundred yards from the bank of the river, which was likely to answer our purpose.
Their notes, too, reminded me, as they sang their morning song, of the mistletoe thrush. Presently they flew off together, some way up the stream. Turning round, I saw Chickango, Igubo, and several of Mr Fraser's blacks following, with guns in their hands, accompanied by a pack of dogs. I pointed out the birds to them. "'Noceros not far off," observed Chickango.
Near the banks of the stream we passed a grove of curious trees with short stems, on either side of which projected huge long leaves with feather-like branches on the top. Amid them was an immense number of clusters of nuts, each larger than a pigeon's egg. Chickango ordered one of the men to climb up and bring down a cluster when he saw us looking at them.
"Had my rifle been loaded with ball, I should have saved that poor fellow the last fearful crush; and in future we must not go without one or two of our fowling-pieces loaded with ball," observed Stanley, ramming down a bullet into his rifle. Chickango and I did the same. We then constructed a rough litter, on which we placed the injured negro.
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