Ah! thought I to myself as we walked back to the camp. Then, allowing
an average of twenty to a canoe, the Pongo tribe number about two
thousand males old enough to paddle, an estimate which turned out to
be singularly correct.
Next morning at dawn we started, with some difficulty. To begin with,
in the middle of the night old Babemba came to the canvas shelter
under which I was sleeping, woke me up and in a long speech implored
me not to go. He said he was convinced that the Pongo intended foul
play of some sort and that all this talk of peace was a mere trick to
entrap us white men into the country, probably in order to sacrifice
us to its gods for a religious reason.
I answered that I quite agreed with him, but that as my companions
insisted upon making this journey, I could not desert them. All that I
could do was to beg him to keep a sharp look-out so that he might be
able to help us in case we got into trouble.
"Here I will stay and watch for you, lord Macumazana," he answered,
"but if you fall into a snare, am I able to swim through the water
like a fish, or to fly through the air like a bird to free you?"
After he had gone one of the Zulu hunters arrived, a man named Ganza,
a sort of lieutenant to Mavovo, and sang the same song.
Pages:
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354