About midday the kitchen canoe paddles by with fire alight and pot
boiling. Soon after Chikaia shouts: _Le cuisinier est tombe dans l'eau_,
and a little way ahead is seen a canoe apparently upside down close to
the bank and twelve or fifteen black heads bobbing up and down in the
water. Mountmorres is just ahead in his canoe and easily within reach
but to my surprise his paddlers suddenly turn away from the bank and
make for mid-stream evidently straining every muscle. Turning round I
order my crew to pull rapidly to the rescue but to my disgust they also
turn into mid-stream and take no notice of my command. Having asked
Chikaia the meaning of this he replied: _La petite bete qui mange
l'homme_. Chikaia's knowledge of zoology and French being somewhat
limited every animal is for him either a _petite_. or a _grande
bete_. The information was therefore not very valuable for it was
impossible to imagine what small beast was in the habit of eating
people. Thinking, however, of a crocodile I took my rifle but Chikaia
laughed and said: "_Non, non, la petite._" By this time we were well out
in mid-stream opposite the kitchen canoe which--to add to the
mystery--was not upset at all. The cook, the crew, the goats and the
fowls were all, however, in the water. No danger was apparent for the
crew were swimming at their ease and hoisting the live stock back into
the canoe. It is useless being astonished at anything in Africa and
there was obviously nothing to do but sit still while the crew raced
along as fast as they could paddle. In a few minutes they pulled into
the bank and there we waited for the kitchen which presently appeared
with the cook reclining in the arms of one of the crew and moaning: "_Je
mart, je mort_." After a rapid examination, however, I could find
nothing at all the matter. At length we discover the truth. His canoe
had run into a large hornet's nest hanging from the branch of a tree and
he had been stung in the head. To avoid further damage, he and the whole
of the crew not only jumped into the water themselves but threw all the
live stock overboard as well, for the natives believe that the sting of
this insect kills and they fear it more than an encounter with a wild
beast. The cook was therefore in a highly hysterical condition and no
doubt in considerable pain also although no mark of a sting could be
discovered, amidst his thick curly black hair. Still I took him into my
canoe, gave him whisky internally