<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></SPAN>CHAPTER V.</h2>
<h3>THE GIANT'S FINGER.</h3>
<p><span class="smcap">For</span> quite three weeks we pushed forward through the
interminable forest until one day we came to a small
village beyond which lay a great broad river glistening in
the noon-day sun. It was the mighty Comoe. We had
entered the kingdom of Anno. In the village I saw
traces of human sacrifices, and Omar, in reply to a
question, told me that although these happy-looking<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/32.png">32</SPAN>]</span>
natives were very skilful weavers and dyers who did a
brisk trade in <i>fu</i>, a bark cloth of excellent quality—which
I found afterwards they manufactured from the
bark of a tree apparently of the same species as the
much-talked-of <i>rokko</i> of Uganda—they nevertheless at
the death of a chief sacrificed some of his slaves to
"water the grave," while the memory of the departed was
also honoured with gross orgies which lasted till everything
eatable or drinkable in the village was consumed.</p>
<p>We only remained there a few hours, then embarked
in three large canoes that were moored to the bank
awaiting us. The chief of the village came to pay his
respects to Omar, as the son of a ruling monarch, and
presented us with food according to the usual custom.</p>
<p>Soon, amid the shouts of the excited villagers who
had all come down to see us start, our canoes were
pushed off, and the carriers, glad to be relieved of their
packs, took the paddles, and away we went gaily up the
centre of the winding river. Emerging as suddenly as
we had from the gloomy forest depths where no warmth
penetrated, into the blazing tropical sun was a sudden
change that almost overcame me, for as we rowed along
without shelter the rays beat down upon us mercilessly.</p>
<p>The banks were for the most part low, although it was
impossible to say what height they were because of the
lofty hedges of creeping plants which covered every inch
of ground from the water's edge to as high as fifty feet
above in some places, while behind them towered the
black-green forest with here and there bunches of brilliant
flowers or glimpses of countless grey trunks. Sometimes
these trees, pressing right up to the edge of the warm
sluggish water, grew horizontally to the length of fifty feet
over the river. Creepers, vines, whip-like calamus, twisting<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/33.png">33</SPAN>]</span>
lianes and great serpent-like convolvuli grew in profusion
over everything, while the eye caught glimpses everywhere
of gorgeous clouds of insects, gaily-plumaged birds,
paraquets, and monkeys swinging in their shaded bowers.</p>
<p>Basking on the banks were crocodiles and hippopotami,
while the river itself swarmed with fish and water-snakes.
And over all rose the mist caused by heat and moisture,
the death-dealing miasma of that tropic world.</p>
<p>But all were in good spirits, for rowing was more
pleasurable than tramping in that dismal monotonous
primeval forest that rose on either side, therefore against
the broad, slowly-flowing waters our carriers bent to their
paddles, grinning and joking the while.</p>
<p>Throughout that day Kouaga sat near us, smoking and
thinking. Perhaps the responsibilities of State weighed
heavily upon him; perhaps he was contemplating with
trepidation the passage that would be necessary through
a country held by the enemies of Mo; at all events he
was morose and taciturn, his dark face bearing a strange,
stern look such as I had never before noticed.</p>
<p>During the weeks I had been travelling up country I
had embraced every opportunity of improving my knowledge
of the curious language spoken by Omar and his
mother's subjects, until I found I could understand a
large portion of a conversation and could even give
directions to our carriers in their own tongue.</p>
<p>Omar was in high spirits, eager, it seemed, to return
to his own people. He took a gun and some ammunition
from one of the cases that Kouaga had conveyed
from England and gave us an exhibition of his skill with
the rifle. He was a dead shot. I had no idea he could
aim so true. As we sped past in our canoe he would raise
his weapon from time to time and pick off a bird upon<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/34.png">34</SPAN>]</span>
the wing, or fire directly into the eye of some basking
animal, causing it to utter a roar, lash its tail and disappear
to die. He seldom missed, and the accuracy of his aim
elicited from the sable rowers low grunts of admiration.</p>
<p>A lazy and enjoyable week we thus spent in the ascent
of the Comoe, mostly through forest scenery or undulating
grass-lands. By day our rowers bent with rhythmic
music to their paddles, and at evening we would disembark,
cook our food, and afterwards with Kouaga and
my friend I would sleep in our canoe upon the heap of
leopard skins that formed our couches. Here we were
free from the pest of the myriad insects we had encountered
in the forest; and at night, under the brilliant
moon, the noble river and giant trees presented a fine
picture of solitary grandeur. Onward we pressed through
the flourishing country of the Jimini, where we saw many
prosperous villages of large roomy houses of rectangular
form and reed thatched, wide tracts under cultivation
with well-kept crops of cotton and rice. Everywhere we
passed, without opposition, and with expressions of good-will
from the natives.</p>
<p>One evening when the blood-red sun had sunk low in
the water behind us, we suddenly rounded a sharp bend of
the river and there burst upon us, rising on our right high
into the clouds, the great snow-capped crest of Mount
Komono. Near its base it was hidden by a bank of cloud,
but above all was clear and bright, so that the summit
had the appearance of being suspended in mid-air.</p>
<p>"The Giant's Finger at last!" cried Omar, jumping up
excitedly and pointing at the mountain. "We leave the
river a little higher up, and push again across the bush a
twelve days' journey until we come to the Volta, which
will take us forward to the boundary of Mo."</p>
<p><span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/35.png">35</SPAN>]</span>
"The Volta!" I cried, remembering the incident at
school when he had answered correctly the master's
question as to the estuary of that river, and had been
dubbed "the Guinea Pig." "Why could we not have
ascended it from the sea?"</p>
<p>"Because we should, by so doing, pass nearly the
whole distance through the country of Prempeh, of
Ashanti, one of our bitter foes. The Adoo, the Anno,
and the Jimini kings have long ago made blood-brotherhood
with our chiefs, therefore we are enabled to pass in
peace by this route alone."</p>
<p>Before darkness fell we disembarked at a small village
on the left bank, the name of which I learnt was
Tomboura, and after our evening meal were given a hut
in which to spend the night. Soon after dawn, however,
we heard Kouaga astir, giving rapid orders to the
carriers, and when we went out to go down to the
canoes they were nowhere to be seen. We noticed,
however, that the carriers were preparing their loads
which they had no doubt landed during the night, and
Omar, advancing towards the Grand Vizier, asked:</p>
<p>"Why do we not ascend the river further? We must
cross to the other side if we would join the Great Salt
Road."</p>
<p>"Dangers lurk there, O my Master," the negro answered,
hitching his burnouse about his shoulders.
"We must travel by a circuitous route."</p>
<p>"Did not my mother command me to speed unto
her?" Omar asked, puzzled. "Is it not necessary that
we should travel by the shortest path?"</p>
<p>"The safest is the shortest," Kouaga answered with a
frown.</p>
<p>"But by following this bank we are turning our backs<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/36.png">36</SPAN>]</span>
upon Mo. See!" and he produced from his pocket an
instrument which I did not know he possessed, a cheap
mariner's compass.</p>
<p>"Bah!" cried Kouaga in anger, after he had looked
at it a long time. "That clock of the white men has an
evil spirit within. See! its trembling finger points always
in the direction of the Great Evil. It is bewitched. Cast
it away. Kouaga has already made fetish for this journey."</p>
<p>"But why should we travel in an entirely opposite
direction to Mo?" I argued, seeing that a crowd of
grinning impish-looking carriers had gathered around us,
enjoying our controversy.</p>
<p>"For three-score years Kouaga has lived in the forest
and on the plains," he answered, turning to me. "He
knows the direction of Mo."</p>
<p>"Oh, let him have his own way," Omar cried at last,
finding persuasion of no avail. Then turning to the
Grand Vizier he said in a firm tone: "Listen, Kouaga.
If by your obstinacy we are delayed one single day, I shall
inform my mother of that fact, and you will assuredly lose
your office and most likely your head also. Therefore act
as you think fit. Omar, Prince of Mo, has spoken."</p>
<p>"Kouaga bore the staff of the Great White Queen
unto thee. He is the trusted of the Naya, if not of her
son," the negro answered, turning away. But in that
brief instant I noticed an expression on his face of
relentless cruelty. An expression such as one might
expect to see upon the face of a murderer.</p>
<p>Truth to tell, I had never liked Kouaga; now I instinctively
hated him. But ere he had strode a dozen
paces he turned back smiling, saying:</p>
<p>"I mean no defiance to the Son of my Queen. He
is in my charge, and I will take him safely back unto Mo,<span class='pagenum'><SPAN name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></SPAN>[<SPAN href="./images/37.png">37</SPAN>]</span>
the city with walls unbreakable, the capital of the kingdom
unconquerable."</p>
<p>"I shall act as I have decided," Omar answered with
true princely hauteur. "The rulers of Mo never depart
from their word."</p>
<p>"Very well," the other answered laughing, at the same
time lighting his pipe with cool indifference. Then,
glancing round to see that all was ready, he shouted an
order to the head-man and the string of carriers moved
away, jabbering and shouting, down the path into the dark
gloomy forest depths.</p>
<p>In ill-humour we followed. I must confess that towards
Kouaga I entertained an ill-defined feeling of distrust.
Once or twice during that day's march in the dull dispiriting
gloom, almost every ray of daylight being shut
out by the thick canopy of creepers spreading from tree
to tree, I had caught Omar surreptitiously consulting his
pocket compass, and saw upon his face a look of anxiety.
Yet, on the other hand, Kouaga had become particularly
jocular, and the carriers were now singing snatches of
songs, joking, and laughing good-humouredly at each
other's misfortunes, whereas on our journey from the coast
to the river they had generally preserved a sullen silence.</p>
<p>No. Try how I would I could not rid myself of the
thought that there was something very mysterious in
Kouaga's actions.</p>
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