VICTORIA AND CAMEROONS. 
59 
burst into roars of laughter, again and again renewed 
(probably because the sound was similar to many of 
their native names — Kombi, Koombi, Koombo, &c.). 
At Bosama Mr. Comber was able to sleep with more 
ease of mind and less apprehension than at Bomano, 
but the rats were very troublesome, eating a good bit 
of his shoes, and nibbling away at his men’s toes, and 
squealing, scratching, scrambling, in the most uproari- 
ous style. This part of the journey had been traversed 
some time before by Mr. Thomson, but at Mweali the 
people had never seen a white man, consequently the 
amount of staring Mr. Comber was subjected to was 
“something awful,” and, of course, as he remarks, 
most embarrassing to a nervous, modest man ; while 
eating, there were some fifty or sixty natives watching 
every morsel as it went from his plate to his mouth. 
At this place; as elsewhere on the route, there was 
much displeasure expressed when the intention to 
proceed was announced. 
At Booba, the limit of the Bamboko country, he 
was able to gain some information of Bakundu, the 
place he wished particularly to reach. Being told that 
it was not very far distant, and could be reached by 
dark, he pushed forward with Mr. Wilson as his com- 
panion. But the distance was farther than was 
expected, and being overtaken by the darkness, they 
returned until the men were met coming on with their 
loads. A place was chosen for encampment, a fire lit, 
which it was difficult to keep blazing all night ; but it 
was safe, as it was also safe to keep his rifle by his 
side in case any hungry leopard might stray that way. 
He was lulled, he says, to sleep, after committing him- 
self and his attendants to the care and protection of 
his Heavenly Father, by the strange mingling of 
nightly sounds in a tropical forest— the whistling of 
the grasshoppers, the clack, clack of the huge bats, the 
shrill cry of the bush-dog, and all the innumerable 
voices of insects unknown. 
Early next morning Bakundu was reached, Mr. 
