clock they went on board the Niger, bound for the west coast
of Africa. This would carry them as far as Sierra Leone, whence Mr.
Goodenough intended to take passage in a sailing ship to his starting
point for the interior.
Frank enjoyed the voyage out intensely, and three days after sailing
they had left winter behind; four days later they were lying in the
harbor of Funchal.
"What a glorious place that would be to ramble about!" he said to Mr.
Goodenough.
"Yes, indeed. It would be difficult to imagine a greater contrast than
between this mountainous island of Madeira and the country which we are
about to penetrate. This is one of the most delightful climates in
the world, the west coast of Africa one of the worst. Once well in
the interior, the swamp fevers, which are the curse of the shores,
disappear, but African travelers are seldom long free from attacks of
fever of one kind or the other. However, quinine does wonders, and we
shall be far in the interior before the bad season comes on."
"You have been there before, you said, Mr. Goodenough?"
"Yes, I have been there twice, and have made excursions for short
distances from the coast. But this time we are going into a country
which may be said to be altogether unknown. One or two explorers have
made their way there, but these have done little towards examining
the natural productions of the country, and have been rather led by
inducements of sport than by those of research."
"Did you have fever, sir?"
"Two or three little attacks. A touch of African fever, during what is
called the good season, is of little more importance than a feverish
cold at home. It lasts two or three days, and then there is an end
of it. In the bad season the attacks are extremely violent, sometimes
carrying men off in a few hours. I consider, however, that dysentery is
a more formidable enemy than fever. However, even that, when properly
treated, should be combated successfully."
"Do you mean to hire the men to go with you at Sierra Leone?"
"Certainly not, Frank. The negroes of Sierra Leone are the most
indolent, the most worthless, and the most insolent in all Africa. It is
the last place in the world at which to hire followers. We must get them
at the Gaboon itself, and at each place we arrive at afterwards we take
on others, merely retaining one of the old lot to act as interpreter.
The natives, although they may allow white men to pass safely, are
exceedingly jealous of
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