During my husband's absence from the station we had quite an invasion of baboons. A piece of ground in front of our house had been cultivated and planted with maize, which was just then in wonderful condition, and the cobs well filled with milky grain. We had often seen a few monkeys in the trees bordering the garden, which had evidently come as spies to find out if the corn was yet ripe; but we did not pay much attention to them.
There were many species of monkeys in the district, and we quite enjoyed seeing them running up and down, and swinging on the branches of the trees, on either side of the stream which tumbled down past our house.
Further back in the forest, were colonies of large, ferocious baboons, which were a continual source of danger to the natives, having often attacked and killed defenseless women, by seizing them in their powerful arms and burying their sharp-edged teeth in the necks of their victims. These baboons were most accomplished thieves, and the native gardens suffered much from their plundering raids.
One day, the cook rushed in and told me that a herd of them were in our maize garden. I told him to go and chase them away, but he said they would not go unless he had a spear or bow and arrows. These he took; but when he approached the first animal—a monstrous male—the very look of its face, and its determined attitude, struck terror into his heart and he fled hastily.
When I went unto the verandah of the house, I saw that a large number of the older and more experienced ones were busy breaking off the cobs of corn, and dropping them over the thorny fence to their companions, who quickly gathered up the spoil. Several alert sentinels had been posted on the fence, at different points of advantage, to give warning of the approach of danger. Not until they were satisfied that they could carry no more, and the guards had sounded a retreat, did they quietly move out of the garden and run off through the forest with their pickings.
Some time later, when my husband had returned to the station, they came once again in large numbers, and he immediately shot one of the most daring of the invaders, after which we had no further trouble. The natives said that the baboons had told all their friends about the power of the master's rifle, and had warned them not to return.
The smaller kinds of monkeys were very entertaining and frolicsome. One very handsome bearded species used to mount our milch cows, and seemed to enjoy the ride very much, quite heedless of the cow's discomfort and fright, as she ran around seeking to get rid of her load.
Due to the number of wild animals of different kinds which prowled around our house at night, I suffered very much from sleeplessness, although they never disturbed my husband in the slightest; in fact, their varied sounds seemed to him but a lullaby.
Lions and leopards were very abundant in the endless wilds around, and frequently came near to our home. The leopards made much less noise than the lions, but I heard them grunting and growling as they passed nightly along our verandah. Our doors and windows were not very safe, having neither locks nor hinges. They were made of reeds lashed closely together, and could offer no resistance to the stroke of a leopard's paw.
The howl of the hyena was the most frequent of all night-time sounds, while the booming and fear instilling roar of the Lion roused my mind, at times, to sleepless activity.
As a rule, the lion roars only after seizing his victim, and very seldom when going about in search of prey.
The prophet Amos asks the question, "Will a lion roar in the forest when he hath no prey? Will a young lion cry out of his den if he has caught nothing?" The answer is obvious. The quiet approach of the King of Beasts, in which he is aided by his cushioned paws, is as noiseless as that of a snake; and, when near to the dwellings of men, he springs upon the prey and devours it without uttering a single sound.
When, however, he finds himself outside the boundary line of the odor of mankind, the moment he springs upon the prey he gives forth a terrific bellow which seems to shake the earth.
There is no doubt whatever that on exceptional occasions, the terror inspiring roar is a great aid to him in his predatory exploits. When he has slyly stalked, in the darkness of the night, a herd of antelopes on a shrubless plain, drawing as near as the existing cover will allow, and finding the game already startled by the feline odor, he then lowers his muzzle to the earth, and gives forth that deep roar which, once heard, can never be forgotten, as it echoes among the rolling flat terrain and nearby hills.
The startled animals become panic-stricken and confused, not knowing from whence the sound proceeds. In their anxiety they run hither and thither, and unguardedly rush towards the lurking lion, when the fatal leap of the seasoned foe brings the prey to earth; and then a few sharply-repeated roars is the signal for the lioness and her cubs to come to feast.
Leopards were very plenteous in the district of Viangi, and were our most cunning and troublesome carnivores. They carried away our two young heifers in the light of day, from within fifty yards of the house. So persistent were they in their exploits, that my husband found it necessary to lay a trap for them, so as to lessen their number. He got the natives to build a hut with heavy trees; and at one end of it was made a strong and secure cage for a goat, which was to be used as a lure for the leopard. At the entrance to the hut was placed a large steel trap, with a strong chain attached, which was fastened to an adjoining tree. The trap was covered with leaves and dry grass to simulate the surface of the ground.
On the following morning at gray dawn, we heard a noise in the vicinity of the trap and my husband rushed out with his rifle. As he approached the place, he saw a huge leopard with his head projecting out of the hut. The moment the leopard caught sight of the approaching human figure, he gave a terrific roar, which caused me to jump out of bed. I immediately heard the crack of the rifle, and then all was still.
At the moment of the roar the leopard made a violent jump to reach my husband, who instantly fired; and the beast dropped stone dead, shot through the heart. The force of the spring broke a link in the heavy iron chain which secured the trap, so that, if the leopard had not been shot dead on the leap, my husband would have been torn to pieces that moment.
We had two Arabian riding donkeys on the station, which we valued very much for our itinerating work among the villages during the rainy season, when numerous gullies among the hills were difficult to cross. They were also of great service when we were convalescent and weak from attacks of malarial fever.
We had a small shed for them, made of forest trees; but not having any hinges for the door, it was fastened only with a crossbar. The donkeys became quite skillful in removing this bar with their nose, so that the door fell inwards, and they were thus able to make their way out to pasture at will.
These donkeys would never leave their stall at night, as they were evidently conscious of the danger that existed from lions during the hours of darkness. One night, however, when the moon was in her last quarter, I suppose they mistook the late moonlight for the early dawn, and, opening the door, they made their way out. In the morning only one donkey was to be seen, and, down in the long grass near to the river bed, was found the carcass of the other, still warm.
A lion had killed the animal early in the morning and, tearing open the abdomen, had devoured the intestines and internal organs, which always seem to be tidbits relished most by carnivores, and of which they partake before touching the carcass. Daylight had evidently come too early upon him, and he had shied away to his lair unsatiated, leaving the donkey almost intact.
Knowing that the lion was likely to come back for the carcass at the return of darkness, my husband determined to sit up and wait for him during the night. Within a few yards of the spot where the dead donkey lay, there was a tree running up unbranched for about twelve feet from the ground. The lowest limb of the tree offered a seat, not too comfortable, but still out of reach of the spring of a wounded lion, and my husband elected to take advantage of this, and there wait for the King of Beasts. He arranged to ascend by means of a small rough ladder made of saplings, placed against the tree, so that after climbing with his rifle the ladder could be withdrawn.
As the sun disappeared that day in the west, we were sitting down to our evening meal; and, inasmuch as at the equator darkness follows immediately after the disc of the sun has sunk below the horizon, my husband quickly finished his meal. Taking a lighted candle lantern in his hand, he hastened towards the carcass, which was lying by the side of the river bed, calling out to one of his men to follow quickly with the rifle and cartridge bag.
Pushing his way alone through the long reed grass, which was about six feet high, he heard, some distance in front of him, a peculiar sound; and, thinking that some of his native men had taken upon themselves to change the position of the carcass, he proceeded unarmed to the spot from which the sound emanated; and, raising the lantern, he found himself in the very presence of the lion, who had already returned for his plunder and was carrying away the animal in his mouth.
The moment the light of the lantern fell upon his glaring eyeballs, he dropped the carcass and bounded away. In this case, as in many others, the light of a lamp proved to be an efficient protection to human life, as it blinded the dilated pupils of the lion's eyes, which nature had constructed for night-time vision. Against these fierce and predatory animals, the blazing light of a camp fire is an adequate defense for the
European and his weary porters, who sleep encircled around it.
The monotony of our lonely life in the jungle was not only broken by the depredations and exploits of leopards and lions, but occasionally by the more welcome arrival of mail from Europe.
Those who dwell at home, near to shops and markets, and within the area of postal deliveries, can hardly conceive what it means in this postless and shopless land to have to order goods twelve to eighteen months before they are required; and when dispatching a letter to catch some home-going steamer, half a year must go by before a reply can be received.
Our Mission agents at Zanzibar sent up country a mail caravan, consisting of a number of rifle-armed Coastmen, carrying a small bag of letters, about a dozen times every year. As the time drew near for these mailmen to arrive at the isolated stations of the interior, the eagerness with which the Missionaries awaited news of the outer world can readily be imagined. It was the custom for these runners to fire a volley from their rifles as they approached the Mission station, to herald their own arrival. There was then considerable strained, nervous expectation until the contents of the mail bag were disclosed.
With similar desire we looked for a caravan bearing our much needed supplies, but oftentimes the unpacking brought with it much disappointment. No doubt the goods had been carefully packed in London in good order, but alas, in what a deplorable condition they were often received in the heart of Africa! We open a tin of flour; and it is so full of grubs that we are in doubt as to whether the greater portion is animal or vegetable matter. We turn out the contents on a sheet of linen, carry it into the sun, and there find our tin of flour literally crawling away.
Another box is opened; and we find an empty syrup tin, while every package of goods in the same case is besmeared and soaked with the former contents of the empty container.
A case containing tea and sugar, which, with its carrier, has fallen into one of the many swamps en route, is now opened. Whatever sugar remains still retains some of its sweetness, but it has acquired many flavors besides, while the tea is covered with mold and is already growing a beard.
We find that a wooden box containing boots and clothing has been eaten during a single night, and portions of the contents completely destroyed. A box of haberdashery and underclothing has been dropped in the water while its carrier was fording a rushing stream. The needles, pins and scissors are corroded by rust, and the clothing covered with mildew.
We once thought how beneficial it would be to have a few English potatoes for planting purposes, in case they might thrive in our climate, and an order was sent to London for twenty-eight pounds of seed. Contrary to instructions, they were sent out in a zinc-lined case, which weighed an additional twenty-eight pounds. When the package arrived with some other goods, a native who attempted to open it was struck with fright, for, on thrusting the box opener into the air-tight lining of zinc, he heard a loud explosion. The odor was so extremely offensive that box and contents had both alike to be buried.
To be harassed or discouraged by such incidents as these is to be unfitted for living in the wilds of Equatorial Africa. One must "take joyfully the spoiling of their goods." It is probable, however, that in some cases the lives of Missionaries have been shortened by the privations endured, the disappointments experienced, and the lack of suitable nourishment.
We often pitied our few natives who lived with us on the Station, as they had far less variety of food than the natives of the surrounding tribe. They begged of my husband to go and shoot some meat for them, which he promised to do. The larger antelopes do not make their way far into the thick bush, but confine themselves to open grassy plains, and the forest nearby to these feeding places. It was ten hours' march through thick jungle to the nearest place where these animals were to be found in numbers. My husband and his men started one morning and arrived at the rendezvous of the game in the evening, and there pitched their tents.
The following day, an eland and a zebra fell to the shot of the rifle, and my husband dispatched two men with a leg of the meat and a message for me. In about an hour's time one of the carriers was seen returning to camp. Catching sight of him in the distance, my husband noticed a spear in his hand, and knew that something must be wrong, for our men never carried spears. He went forward to meet him; and, as he approached, it could be seen that the man was utterly exhausted and his body all bleeding and torn. He told his story.
As the two men were proceeding on their way, about half an hour's march from camp, there suddenly sprang out of the bush, a short distance in front of them, about ten ruga-ruga of the Wahehe tribe, and the same number at their rear, who simultaneously launched their spears at them. Our porters called out that they belonged to the Mzungu (White man), but the spears came thick and fast all the same.
The leg of meat was thrown down and the man, who afterward managed to return to camp, immediately rushed for the thick bush, on the side of the track on which the camp was pitched. In doing so, a spear passed through his loincloth, grazing the flesh, and dropped a few yards in front of him. This he instinctively picked up for defense, in case he were brought to bay by his pursuers. He crawled through the densest part of the thorny bushes which studded the undergrowth of the forest, followed by the ruga-ruga at his heels.
This man himself had once been a highway murderer among his own tribe, and knew the only stratagy which might save his life. He wormed himself in and out through the thorny thicket in serpentine fashion, until his pursuers gave up the chase; and then he moved on as rapidly as his legs could carry him, towards the camp, where he arrived with his body bleeding and lacerated by the stout prickles of the bushes, through which he had made his escape.
"And what about your friend?" My husband anxiously asked; but the man could give no information as to what had become of him. Determined to try to save the life of the missing porter, my husband rushed to the tent for his rifle and cartridge bag. Leaving his few men in charge of the camp, with instructions to keep a sharp lookout for the enemy, he took the wounded native with him, so that he might point out the place where they had been attacked.
When they had made their way along the track through the bush for about half an hour, my husband turned round and found that his man was shaking with terror, and his eyes seemed starting from their sockets, as he glanced from side to side. He then said, in a low, quivering voice, that they were now getting near to the place. Moving quietly and cautiously along a short distance further in oppressive silence, the man whispered, "This is the spot."
They crouched down and carefully scanned each bush within the range of their vision. There was no movement of twig or leaf, and not a sound to be heard but the beating of their own hearts.
My husband then put his magazine rifle to his shoulder, and fired several shots in quick succession, hoping thereby to startle any ruga-ruga who might be under cover in the vicinity. There was, however, no response, except the resounding echoes through the forest of the report of the repeating rifle.
They both looked about to see if they could discern any smoke through the openings in the thick bush, where the waylayers might be roasting the meat they had taken as booty; but of this there was no visible sign, nor could they find anywhere a trace of fire or smoldering embers.
Just as they were about to come away, my husband noticed in the grass, not far from where he stood, something like the exposed root of an ebony tree. He went forward to look at it more closely: and there was his faithful man lying on his back, dead, with three spear wounds in his chest. He stooped down and kissed his brow, and with a heavy burdened heart returned to camp.
At first he thought it unwise to tell his men what had happened, lest they should be afraid to return through the thick forest where the murder had been committed, and flee from the camp in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, he was eventually convinced that, whatever the men might be led to do, it would be wiser to tell them the whole story. Calling the men together, he said to them in their own language, "My children, your brother has been murdered by the Wahehe in the forest. I saw his dead body with three spear wounds in his breast. My duty is now to endeavor, with the help of God, to take you safely home, and not remain any longer in this district, where your lives are in great danger from these bloodthirsty men.
"You must not take any of this meat with you, which has cost the life of your comrade. We have no tools with which to dig a grave for the body now lying in the bush. That, however, is a matter of very little importance. We know that he has gone to be with the Savior, whom he had learned to trust and love, for, as you know, just five days ago in the presence of you all he testified that Christ had saved him.
"You will now leave our camp and we shall return. Although darkness will soon be upon us, we can make our way slowly through the night and reach home in the morning."
They unanimously exclaimed, "Sir! surely you do not mean to return by the very path through the forest, where our friend has met his death? "My husband, however, persisted in his determination, and explained to them that if they went many hours further round, by some unknown track, they might only meet with a larger band of murderers. They pleaded with him that they might rest that night and retrace their steps homeward the next day, by daylight. My husband told them that, when man was their foe, it was much safer to travel by night, since they could then see in the distance the glare of the enemy's camp fire, and avoid the onslaught; while in the daytime they might fall into the ambush of the waylayers at any moment, as had been the case with their friend.
This explanation satisfied them. The tent was immediately taken down, and the few camp items packed into convenient loads, and off they started into the dark jungle, not knowing what the end might be. As they passed by the place where the body of their comrade lay, the whole caravan were trembling with fear; but as hour after hour elapsed, and they gradually left behind them the territory of the Wahehe, they breathed more freely. Nevertheless, they kept a sharp watch, for, having no light of any kind, they were in considerable danger of being attacked by lions and leopards.
Towards morning they had a little faint moonlight, from an expiring moon, and, as they wended their way along the zigzag path in the bush, my husband, who was in front of the men, caught sight of some moving object in the distance, which he supposed to be one of the forward scouts of a marauding band. In a moment the figure was covered by the muzzle of the rifle and, preparing to fire, he called out, "Who's that?" and a well-known voice replied, "Baruti."
I had sent Baruti away before dawn to take to my husband some prepared food and a little milk, and return to me with news of the camp. The little caravan reached home in the early morning, and when I heard the news about the loss of our man, I could not help weeping bitterly, though thankful to God that my husband and the rest of his men had been piloted safely through that wild and unsafe district.