Chap. XVIII. NIGHT-MARCH THROUGH NIEMBOUAI. 3(55 



not throw them away, but deliver them into tlie 

 hands of the white men on the coast." 



My men clung close round me as I spoke, and all, 

 with voices full of love, said, " Chaillie, you are not 

 to die ! You are not to die ! We will bring you 

 alive to our people ! You shall always be with us." 

 I answered, in a laughing tone, in order to cheer 

 them up : " I did not say I am to die to-night ; but 

 only that I might die. Don't you know that Chaillie 

 knows how to fight?" They all said, "Yes, yes; 

 and we also know how to fight — we are men ! " We 

 then shouldered our bundles and guns, and strug- 

 gled through the entangled thicket, tearing ourselves 

 with thorns, into the path, and thence to the village 

 street. We here paused, and called each other in a 

 low voice to make sure we were all together ; for it 

 was so intensely dark that we could not see a yard 

 before us. It was necessary to guard against a pos- 

 sible ambush, for the villagers must have been aware 

 that we were near their place on the preceding 

 evening, and they knew that we could not ven- 

 ture to travel except along the main road of the 

 country, which passed through their village. We 

 then stepped forward, like desperate men resolved 

 to fight for our lives to the last. We took the 

 middle of the street, which was a very long one, 

 treading cautiously, with our guns cocked, and ready 

 at the slightest warning. At one house we heard 

 people playing the wombi (native harp *) inside ; 

 we crossed lightly to the opposite side of the street, 



* See, for tlescriptiou of this instrument, 'Adventures in Equatorial 

 Africa.' 



