DESIRE TO RETURN. 225 
clothes were torn and patched, and I looked in reality 
very little better than my negro friends. My stock of 
powder was small, my bullets were nearly exhausted, 
and my small shot were almost gone. I was wearing my 
last pair of shoes. My goods were all gone, and skins of 
animals made a great part of my garments. 
The numerous hardships of this long trip ; the sleeping 
night after night in wet clothes; the tramping through 
rain, through r vers, and under the hot sun; the sufferings 
from the intolerable gouamba, and the still less tolerable 
starvation ; the attacks of fever that followed one upon 
the other—all these had done their work upon me. 
Food had been scarce, very scarce for a long time, and I 
began to feel as-if I wanted a long rest. I wanted to 
breathe the salt air; I wanted to see the deep blue sea, 
and to look at the waves which came in heavy surfs upon 
the beach; I wanted to see that sea on which I expected 
to sail one day for home. 
Do you not think that I deserved to go back? I had 
worked hard, very hard. I had made beautiful collec- 
tions; and I was to carry with me gorillas, hippopotami, 
- manitee, nshiego-mbouvé, kooloo-kamba, no end of birds 
(more than two thousand), a great many monkeys, and 
the skins of several hundreds of animals. I had work- 
ed hard to kill them, and worked still harder to stuff 
them, hunting them during the day, and preparing their 
skins during the night. So I told friend Quengueza we 
must go. 
I called the Bakalai together and told friend Obindji 
that his Ntangani must leave him. As soon as I said this, 
the old chief said, “ Neshi (no). What will Obindji do 
without his Ntangani?” They all shouted, ‘ What shall 
K 2 
