lid was painted； 〃The Reverend Henry Austin。 Passenger to Acra；〃
showing that it had once been his uncle's cabin box。 The key hung from
the handle； and having lit more candles； Alan drew it out and unlocked
it； to be greeted by a smell of musty documents done up in great
bundles。 One by one he placed them on the floor。 It was a dreary
occupation alone there in that great； silent room at the dead of
night； one indeed with which he was soon satisfied； for somehow it
reminded him of rifling coffins in a vault。 Before him so carefully
put away lay the records of a good if not a distinguished life； and
until this moment he had never found the energy even to look through
them。
At length he came to the end of the bundles and saw that beneath lay a
number of manuscript books packed closely with their backs upwards；
marked〃Journal〃and with the year and sometimes the place of the
author's residence。 As he glanced at them in dismay； for they were
many； his eye caught the title of one inscribedas were several
others〃West Africa；〃 and written in brackets beneath〃This vol。
contains all that is left of the notes of my escape with Jeekie from
the Asiki Devil…worshippers。〃
Alan drew it out； and having refilled and closed the box； bore it off
to his room； where he proceeded to read it in bed。 As a matter of fact
he found that there was not very much to read； for the reason that
most of the closely…written volume had been so damaged by water； that
the pencilled writing had run and become utterly illegible。 The centre
pages； however； not having been soaked； could still be deciphered； at
any rate in part； also there was a large manuscript map； executed in
ink； apparently at a later date； on the back of which was written： 〃I
purpose； D。V。； to re…write at some convenient time all the history of
my visit to the unknown Asiki people； as my original notes were
practically destroyed when the canoe overset in the rapids and most of
our few possessions were lost； except this book and the gold fetish
mask which is called Little Bonsa or Small Swimming Head。 This I think
I can do with the aid of Jeekie from memory； but as the matter has
only a personal and no religious interest； seeing that I was not able
even to preach the Word among those benighted and blood…thirsty
savages in whose country； as I verily believe； the Devil has one of
his principal habitations； it must stand over till a convenient
season； such as the time of old age or sickness。 H。A。〃
〃P。S。 I ought to add with gratitude that even out of this hell fire I
was enabled to snatch one brand from the burning； namely； the negro
lad； Jeekie； to whose extraordinary resource and faithfulness I owe my
escape。 After a long hesitation I have been able to baptize him；
although I fear that the taint of heathenism still clings to him。 Thus
not six months ago I caught him sacrificing a white cock to the image；
Little Bonsa； in gratitude； as to my horror he explained； for my
having been appointed an Honorary Canon of the Cathedral。 I have told
him to take that ugly mask which has been so often soaked in human
blood； and melt it down over the kitchen stove； after picking out the
gems in the eyes； that the proceeds may be given to the poor。 /Note。/
I had better see to this myself； as where Little Bonsa is concerned；
Jeekie is not to be trusted。 He says （with some excuse） that it has
magic； and that if he melts it down； he will melt down too； and so
shall I。 How dark and ridiculous are the superstitions of the heathen！
Perhaps； however； instead of destroying the thing； which is certainly
unique； I might sell it to a museum； and thus spare the feelings of
that weak vessel； Jeekie； who otherwise would very likely take it into
his head to waste away and die； as these Africans do when their nerves
are affected by terror of their fetish。〃
CHAPTER VII
THE DIARY
Reflecting that time evidently had made little change in Jeekie； Alan
studied this route map with care； and found that it started from Old
Calabar； in the Bight of Biafra； on the west coast of Africa； whence
it ran up to the Great Qua River； which it followed for a long way。
Then it struck across country marked 〃dense forest；〃 northwards； and
came to a river called Katsena； along the banks of which the route
went eastwards。 Thence it turned northward again through swamps； and
ended in mountains called Shaku。 In the middle of these mountains was
written 〃Asiki People live here on Raaba River。〃
The map was roughly drawn to scale； and Alan； who was an engineer
accustomed to such things； easily calculated that the distance of this
Raaba River from Old Calabar was about 350 miles as the crow flies；
though probably the actual route to be travelled was nearer five
hundred miles。
Having mastered the map； he opened the water…soaked diary。 Turning
page after page； only here and there could he make out a sentence；
such as 〃so I defied that beautiful but terrific woman。 I； a Christian
minister； the husband of a heathen priestess！ Perish the thought。
Sooner would I be sacrificed to Bonsa。〃
Then came more illegible pages and again a paragraph that could be
read〃They gave me 'The Bean' in a gold cup； and knowing its deadly
nature I prepared myself for death。 But happily for me my stomach；
always delicate； rejected it at once； though I felt queer for days
afterwards。 Whereon they clapped their hands and said I was evidently
innocent and a great medicine man。〃
And again； further on〃never did I see so much gold whether in dust；
nuggets； or worked articles。 I imagine it must be worth millions； but
at that time gold was the last thing with which I wished to trouble
myself。〃
After this entry many pages were utterly effaced。
The last legible passage ran as follows〃So guided by the lad Jeekie；
and wearing the gold mask； Little Bonsa； on my head； I ran through
them all； holding him by the hand as though I were dragging him away。
A strange spectacle I must have been with my old black clergyman's
coat buttoned about me； my naked legs and the gold mask； as pretending
to be a devil such as they worship； I rushed through them in the
moonlight； blowing the whistle in the mask and bellowing like a bull。
。 。 。 Such was the beginning of my dreadful six months' journey to the
coast。 Setting aside the mercy of Providence that preserved me for its
own purposes； I could never have lived to reach it had it not been for
Little Bonsa； since curiously enough I found this fetish known and
dreaded for hundreds of miles； and that by people who had never seen
it； yes； even by the wild cannibals。 Whenever it was produced food；
bearers； canoes； or whatever else I might want were forthcoming as
though by magic。 Great is the fame of Big and Little Bonsa in all that
part of West Africa； although； strange as it may seem； the outlying
tribes seldom mention them by name。 If they must speak of either of
these images which are supposed to be man and wife； they call it the
'Yellow…God…who…lives…yonder。'〃
Not another word of all this strange history could Alan decipher； so
with aching eyes he shut up the stained and tattered volume； and at
last； just as the day was breaking； fell asleep。
At eleven o'clock on that same morning； for he had slept late； Alan
rose from his breakfast and went to smoke his pipe at the open door of
the beautiful old hall in Yarleys that was clad with brown Elizabethan
oak for which any dealer would have given hundreds of pounds。 It was a
charming morning； one of those that comes to us sometimes in an
English April when the air is soft like that of Italy and the smell of
the earth rises like that of incense； and little clouds float idly
across a sky of tender blue。 Standing thus he looked out upon the park
where the elms already showed a tinge of green and the ash…buds were
coal black。 Only the walnuts and the great oaks； some of them pollards
of a thousand years of age； remained stark and stern in their winter
dress。
Alan was in a reflective mood and involuntarily began to wonder how
many of his forefathers had stood in that same spot upon such April
mornings and looked out upon those identical trees wakening in the
breath of spring。 Only the trees and the landscape knew； those trees
which had seen every one of them borne to baptism； to bridal and to
burial。 The men and women themselves were forgotten。 Their portraits；
each in the garb of his or her generation； hung here and there upon
the walls of the ancient house which once they had owned or inhabited；
but who remembered anything of them to…day？ In many cases their names
even were lost； for believing that they； so important in their time；
could never sink into oblivion； they had not thought it necessary to
record them upon their pictures。
And now the thing was coming to an end。 Unless in this way or in that
he could save it； what remained of the old place； for the outlying
lands had long since been sold； must go to the hammer and become the
property of some pushing and successful person who desired to found a
family； and perhaps in days to be would claim these very pictures that
hung upon the walls as those of his own ancestors； declaring that he
had brought in the estate bec