I now returned to my hut, and waited anxiously for the time when I was to start, for I could not feel safe so long as I was anywhere in the neighbourhood of Pentlea, Camacho, and the other slavers. Though the two Americans might be inclined to befriend me, they were only two, and evidently did not possess much influence.

At last I heard the cocks crowing, and Jack Sprat came and said, “Now, massa, Tom him be ready.” I jumped up at once from my bed, and found Tom with a torch of palm branches ready to start. Jack Sprat gave me the gun I had used the day before. Both he and the fetichman whom I had seen performing in the night rubbed some stuff on my forehead, and the latter bound round my wrist a piece of knotted string on which were two little sticks, of which my old friend said to me, “Him be bery trong fetich for true.”

I tried to thank the old man for all his kindness; but he would not listen to me, and putting his two hands on my shoulders he gently forced me out of the village, barring the gate behind Tom and me.

I followed Tom along the path which led to where I had been frightened by the snake, and on the stream we found a small canoe made of bark, about eighteen inches wide and twenty feet long, in which a man was waiting for us. Tom made me get into this frail and rickety specimen of naval architecture, and though I had to kneel down in the middle and grip either gunwale with my hands to prevent capsizing the craft, I was astonished to see that Tom and the other man were both able to stand up and paddle.

We were soon flying down the stream, the little canoe trembling under their powerful strokes. In less than a quarter of an hour I saw that in front of us was open water. Immediately afterwards we ran alongside of a canoe manned by a dozen men, into which Tom and I got, and we then commenced the ascent of the Ogowai.

Though we were some way up the river beyond Okopa’s and Hararu’s villages, Tom insisted on perfect silence, as on the other bank all the villages acknowledged Okopa’s authority. We paddled up close under the bushes on Hararu’s side, to avoid the current, and also to be seen as little as possible. The middle of the canoe had a thatch of palm leaves over it, which had been prepared for me by the orders of Jack Sprat, and underneath I found some packages of beads and cloth and other things likely to be useful to me, arranged so that I could either sit or lie down comfortably.

For some time we paddled along in silence. A thick mist which was rising from the river was illumined by the rays of the moon, and we could see the dim forms of the trees as we passed by them. At last I began to hear the sounds of insects and the movements of birds succeeding to the deadly stillness which characterizes the last two hours of the tropical night, and then suddenly it became light. The mist began to roll away down the middle of the river, leaving the part where we were paddling up close to the trees quite clear.

The loveliness of the trees covered with creepers, some of them having flowers and fruit which rose from the water like a sea of foliage, was marvellous to me. The long feathery spikes of the calamus palm (the ratan cane so dearly loved by schoolboys—or by schoolmasters, should I say?) shot out for fifteen or twenty feet above the general surface. Flocks of hornbills and other birds were disturbed as we passed along. As the mist kept getting less and less, we could see spur-wing plovers and other strange birds on the banks, and sitting on the snags which here and there jutted from the water were kingfishers watching for their prey, some being large and of a sober gray, while others were scarcely larger than humming-birds, and rivalled them in the beauty of their plumage.

Tom now began to scan the banks curiously and closely, and urged the men to paddle their strongest and best. Just as the sun showed above the tree-tops he ordered the canoe to stop, and some of the men,

getting into the water, began to remove a portion of a screen of canes which hid the mouth of a creek, into which we ran the canoe and then replaced the canes.

The canoe was now unloaded and sunk, and we all waded a long way up the creek until we came to a small footpath, which we followed. After a time we came to a small clearing where were a couple of huts, and here we prepared to camp for the day, Tom saying, “Bery good, bery good.”

I could not understand what we were doing this for, and asked Tom. After much trouble I made him know what I wanted, when he said, “Okopa man catch nigger lib for riber.” I managed also to get out of him that a large party of Okopa’s people had gone up the river to get slaves for the Spaniards, and might at any moment be met coming down, when they would not let our canoe pass without a fight.

Some of our men slept, some smoked, and some ate; but all the time men were stationed to keep a vigilant outlook in case any of Okopa’s people might find where our canoe was hidden. As the cane screen was similar to hundreds of others made at the mouths of the small streams falling into the Ogowai to catch fish, there was not much chance of its being discovered.

I was now able to overhaul the goods which the kindness of Jack Sprat had provided for me, and every moment found more cause for thankfulness to Providence for having guided me to his village instead of to one belonging to Okopa or any of his allies. Not only did I find a supply of cloth and beads for buying food and paying my way, but I also found another jacket and pair of trousers, and four good white shirts, for my own wear. What I really wanted now was something to protect my head from the sun, for the cap which had been given me was not sufficient, and some kind of shoes to guard my feet from thorns and stones, from which they had already suffered severely.

I explained this to Tom, and he produced a needle, and unravelled a piece of cloth for thread. I cut some pieces of white stuff, which I made into a cover for the cap, with a flap to hang down on my neck behind. Whilst I was doing this Tom had twisted up some fibrous bark into coarse cords, and made me understand that I should sew this together so as to make a kind of sandal. After much trouble I managed to make this cord into two pieces the shape of the soles of my feet. I then fastened into them broad strips of strong cotton cloth, by which I was able to tie them on.

This, and eating the food which Tom brought me at mid-day, kept me pretty well occupied. Late in the afternoon we heard the noise of drums and the song of paddlers, which I soon found proceeded from Okopa’s slaving-party, who were going down the river with their cargo of slaves. Our look-outs kept us informed as to what went on, and reported that five large canoes passed loaded with slaves. As at sunset no more were in sight or hearing, we returned to our canoe, which we baled out and reloaded, and then started again on our voyage up-stream.

We paddled on for some hours in silence. We saw and heard nothing until about eleven o’clock, when we saw on the bank opposite to that by which we were ascending the light of a fire, and heard the screams of people as if in pain, followed almost immediately by a bullet splashing in the water in front of our canoe.

We stopped paddling, and letting the canoe drift back till we were sheltered by a wooded point, began to consult what should be done. We heard fresh screams, and though I could not understand what Tom and the men were saying, they were evidently very excited. Guns were loaded, primings looked to, and knives and axes were brandished. The screams continued, and among them there seemed to be articulate sounds. We pushed out from behind the trees where we had taken shelter, and as we paddled at full speed toward the fire, Tom said, “Okopa man bad; tief wife for dat man,” pointing to one who was standing in the bow of the canoe brandishing his musket and dancing about as if he were possessed.

One or two more shots were fired at us as we drew near; but as the bow of the canoe touched the bank and we all jumped ashore, most of the men who were in charge of the captives fled, only two or three waiting our onslaught. In less time than it takes to write these three were killed, but not before they had inflicted severe wounds on their assailants.

Close to the bank we found some men and women held captive by long logs lashed together, between which one of their feet was secured, so that it was impossible for them to move. In a few moments they were freed, and we were all back into the canoe and paddling for dear life towards the other side of the stream, some of the slaves whom we had freed having taken the paddles of the men who had been wounded.

After some time I made out from Tom that the people we had freed belonged to a village some way up the river, and that while they were on their way to one of the local markets, they had been surprised and made prisoners by a large party of men belonging to Okopa and his allies. The man who had thought that his wife was among them proved to be right—he having many wives in different parts of the country in order to give him influence when he went on any trading expedition. Their captors had fallen behind the main body of Okopa’s men, having stopped to drink with some friends near where we had found them.

The wounded men were brought under my shelter in the middle of the canoe, and I aided Tom in binding up their wounds as we best could. Whilst we were engaged in this task we heard behind us the splashing of paddles and the voices of men, and it soon became evident that we were pursued.

Our men, who up to this had paddled in silence, now

broke into a loud song, and redoubled their efforts to make the canoe travel. For the whole night we kept on paddling, the only rest being that one of the men was relieved from his paddle for a time, even the women taking their share in the arduous work.

The night at length passed away. When it became light we could see that we were pursued by two canoes, which were each about as large as the one we were in, and manned by the same number of men. On seeing us our pursuers gave a chorus of yells, and one man in each canoe coming to the bows commenced firing at us; but fortunately their bullets fell short.

Our people were now getting tired. It was evident to me that if we did not soon reach a place of safety, or manage to cripple our pursuers, we would soon fall into their hands, and from them we could certainly expect no mercy. Tom now signed to me to take my gun, and with him I went to the stern of our canoe. The bullets of our pursuers falling nearer and nearer, we at last commenced to return their fire.

I found firing from the canoe a very difficult thing, and as reloading my gun was a matter requiring considerable management, our fire was very slow and uncertain. Fortunately our pursuers laboured under the same disadvantages, and did us no damage. After we had been firing for half-an-hour or so, without any casualty on either side, I heard a bullet whiz close by my head, a thud as it struck some one behind me, and then a splash.

The man at the after-paddle had been struck in the head and had fallen overboard. He never rose again. The lurch the canoe gave as he went overboard, and a momentary cessation of paddling on the part of the men, let our enemies draw up a bit, and they were now no more than fifty yards astern of us. I felt more determined than ever, and taking a very careful aim I fired, and the man who was firing from the nearer of the two canoes threw his arms in the air and fell backwards. This caused some confusion on board his canoe, and Tom, at the same moment, being fortunate enough to hit one of the paddlers in the other, we regained the distance that we had lost. Soon after two of our paddles were broken by a bullet, and another of our men was wounded. I thought that in another few minutes they must be alongside, and we should be involved in a hand-to-hand conflict.

I said so to Tom; but in response he showed all his teeth, and said, “Bery good, bery good.” At the same instant I heard the beat of a big drum, and looking round saw that we were just coming in sight of a large village, where people were launching canoes. Tom, as he saw me look, said, “Dem be good;” and our pursuers, who evidently had followed us further than they intended, turned round and began to paddle downstream.

In a few minutes half-a-dozen big canoes from the village were in full chase after them, in which we joined. In less than half-an-hour our whilom pursuers were made prisoners, and we were all landed in the village, where Tom was evidently made much of, and where his white man was regarded with much curiosity—no specimen of that strange race having ever before been seen so far up the Ogowai.

The prisoners we had released had come from this place, and all was rejoicing and festivity in honour of their release from captivity, the best of everything that the village afforded being placed at our disposal. Our wounded men were now handed over to the native doctors, and Tom, after seeing them attended to, came and informed me they soon would be “bery good.”

I was very anxious to know what was to become of me, and where I was going. All this time I had been coming away from the coast, and it seemed to me that though I might be getting safer from pursuit by Camacho, Pentlea, and Okopa, the chances of my ever rejoining the Petrel were becoming smaller and smaller.

All my questions only elicited from Tom the answer of “Bery good,” and I soon found that he, with all the other men of our party, were so much under the influence of the palm wine, gin, and other liquors which were provided in honour of our victory, that I could hope to get no sensible answer until the feasting and festivity were over.