CHAPTER XXYV. 
A DESERTED VILLAGE.—FEAR OF DEATH.—WARS BETWEEN 
VILLAGES.—AFRICAN WILD BOAR.—THE HUNT. 
I HAVE just arrived in a deserted village; there was 
not a soul to be seen. There was nothing, absolutely 
nothing, to remind us of living man except the aban- 
doned huts. How sad every thing looked all around! 
The plantain-trees were growing back of the huts, and 
young bunches of plantains were gracefully hanging 
down from them. 
Even the little Sycobii birds had left, and only their 
deserted nests on the trees testified that once they had 
built their homes there. 
What had become of the people? They had left: 
they had abandoned their village. How often I have 
met these abandoned villages in the forests of Africa, 
but especially in the regions inhabited by the Bakalais, 
the Mbondemos, the Mbishos, the Shekianis. 
This village was situated on the broad waters of the 
River Ovenga, about 90 miles south of the equator. As 
I was not afraid of evil spirits, I concluded I should use 
the huts to sleep in at night; but there was tremendous 
opposition at first, for the men who were with me said 
it was a bewitched’ village; two people had died there 
within a few days of each other; the place was not good 
