A FREE FIGHT 



Leaving Farbra I struck out in a southerly direction 

 along the foot of the mountains towards the Mullah in 

 the south-west corner of the Enclave. Crossing the 

 river about half a mile below the waterfall I found that 

 in the centre it reached just up to my armpits, and as 

 it was running fairly strong several of the boys were 

 afraid to go over, but a little persuasion soon remedied 

 matters. When I made my first trip in the Congo I 

 used to get my burliest follower to carry me across the 

 rivers on his shoulders. One day his foot slipped, and I 

 was pitched headlong into the swirling current, and 

 when I came to the surface the water was rushing out 

 of my nose, ears, and mouth. That afternoon Monica, 

 my personal " boy," came to the hut at the customary 

 hour for my bath, and said, " Bwana, do you like hot 

 water or cold ? " 



The river had not long been left behind when we 

 came upon the remnants of a once peaceful hamlet, and 

 while foraging around I came upon a human skeleton, 

 whose very posture sent a chill through me. I now 

 guessed the reason why the people at Farbra refused 

 to guide me in this direction in spite of a liberal amount 

 of cloth that I had offered for the services of two of their 

 people. But for the pile of blackened stones against 

 which the remains rested in a sitting position I should 

 perhaps have paid less attention to it. Several bones 

 lay on the ground amidst a mass of broken gourds and 

 earthenware. It was a ghastly sight. The boys made 

 a detailed inspection of the wrecked dwelling, and dis- 

 covered a lot of native stringed instruments, armlets, 

 pieces of earthenware vessels, grass matting, and a few 

 arrow heads, two of which were covered with a dark 

 thick substance, probably poisoned. They were beauti- 

 fully made and were of a fantastic pattern. On making 

 a further inspection myself I discovered a number of 

 bones thrown down in one of the huts, the roof of which 



103 



