.

.

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.