Travels in West Africa eBook

I hear more details about the death of poor Freiherr von Gravenreuth, whose fine monument of a seated lion I saw in the Government House grounds in Cameroons the other day.  Bush fighting in these West African forests is dreadfully dangerous work.  Hemmed in by bush, in a narrow path along which you must pass slowly in single file, you are a target for all and any natives invisibly hidden in the undergrowth; and the war-hedge of Buea must have made an additional danger and difficulty here for the attacking party.  The lieutenant and his small band of black soldiers had, after a stiff fight, succeeded in forcing the entrance to this, when their ammunition gave out, and they had to fall back.  The Bueans, regarding this as their victory, rallied, and a chance shot killed the lieutenant instantly.  A further expedition was promptly sent up from Victoria and it wiped the error out of the Buean mind and several Bueans with it.  But it was a very necessary expedition.  These natives were a constant source of danger to the more peaceful trading tribes, whom they would not permit to traverse their territory.  The Bueans have been dealt with mercifully by the Germans, for their big villages, like Sapa, are still standing, and a continual stream of natives come into the barrack-yard, selling produce, or carrying it on down to Victoria markets, in a perfectly content and cheerful way.  I met this morning a big burly chief with his insignia of office—­a great stick.  He, I am told, is the chief or Sapa whom Herr von Lucke has called to talk some palaver with down in Victoria.

At last I leave Herr Liebert, because everything I say to him causes him to hop, flying somewhere to show me something, and I am sure it is bad for his foot.  I go and see that my men are safely quartered.  Kefalla is laying down the law in a most didactic way to the soldiers.  Herr Liebert has christened him “the Professor,” and I adopt the name for him, but I fear “Windbag” would fit him better.

At 7.30 a heavy tornado comes rolling down upon us.  Masses of indigo cloud with livid lightning flashing in the van, roll out from over the wall of the great crater above; then with that malevolence peculiar to the tornado it sees all the soldiers and their wives and children sitting happily in the barrack yard, howling in a minor key and beating their beloved tom-toms, so it comes and sits flump down on them with deluges of water, and sends its lightning running over the ground in livid streams of living death.  Oh, they are nice things are tornadoes!  I wonder what they will be like when we are up in their home; up atop of that precious wall?  I had no idea Mungo was so steep.  If I had—­well, I am in for it now!

CHAPTER XVIII.  ASCENT OF THE GREAT PEAK OF CAMEROONS—­(continued).

Wherein is recounted how the Voyager sets out from Buea, and goes up through the forest belt to the top of the S.E. crater of Mungo Mah Lobeh, with many dilemmas and disasters that befell on the way.