The Columbus journal., 1883-02-21

lu& SuuOIcu 1uCcS soutly 1TOu AcScEs
starvation. the rude embraces of lions
and elephants. the bites of deadly ser
penis. and The cruelties of native Kings.
was nearly worn ou.. He arrived late
M afternoon on the shore of q mighty
lake which no other white man had eveI
seen. and which Wa at least five hun
dred miles distant from any of the
various localities in which European
map-mskers had previously placed It
He lay down under the shadow of the
trees. faint with all the various things that
predispOse . nan to be faint in Central
Africa. but sxulting in the thought that
he would compel the map-maksrs to
place Lake Mjxmbwe where hs wanted
Il, and not where they selfishly i'm
agined that It would present the most
picturesque appearance. Suddenly he
remembered that it was the Path of De-
cember. and that Christmas eve would
naturally arrive in the course of the
next two hours. The thought saddened
him. He glanced at his bare feet-for
his supply of stockings had long since
given out-and he thought of the happy
homes in England. where the children
were preparing to hang up their moth
ers' largest stockings. while he must
spend the blessed Christmas season
among savage heather and unframed
animals. He felt at that moment that
he would give his new lake for an hour
in his English home. and he covered
his face with his hands and sobbed him.
self asleep.
When he awoke it was broad day
light. The woods were vocal with par
rots who necessarily remarked: Polly
wants a cracker" and ostriches. and
other tropical birds. each singing at the
top of its voice. On the bosom of the
lake hoated immense native canoes
bearing parties of excursionists, the
music Of whose accordions and banjoes
came YER the water to the wearied
traveller. He was hungry. and felt in
his pockets for his yquinine pills. but
they were all gone. He tried to rise to
his feet. but he was too weak and rheu-
matte to rise without help. so he sank
back. murmuring: "'Tis ard. ard in
deed. to die on Christmas among the
'eathen."
The sound of womeL's voices reused
him. Three native women. clad only
with the tsetse and pombo worn by their
sex In that part OF Africa, emerged
from the forest on their way to draw
water from the lake. They saw
the traveller, and one of them. moved
with compassion. sang. in q low, mourn
full tone: 1.-The poor white trash done
come to Africa He hasn't no mother
for to fry hominy for him. nor no wife
for to send to the store with q Jug"
Enfeebled as he was the traveller knew
that this was wrong. for he had read
Mungo Parks Travels. and he could
not help r~emarking: You women don't
sing that song IS it ought to be sung
Sing it yourself, them" retorted the
singer. in . cold. heartless way, and
thereupon the women passed on. and
left the wretched white man to perish.
The cruelty of the women made the
traveller so indignant that he resolved
He managed to rise. after painful exer-
tons and the use of many scientific
terms. and hobbled slowly toward q
native village about . quarter of q mile
away. He had scarcely reached it when
he was seized by two gigantic canni-
balls and dragged to the kings palace,
where he hoped that either death or
breakfast, he did not much care which,
awaited him.
The palace consisted of one large
room with AZ enormous throne extend
ing entirely across M end Of it. On
this throne sat twelve native Kings in q
row, each n with q musical instru-
ment in his hand. The one who sat in
the middle looked ~fiercely ut the trav-
eler, and demanded of his captors what
was the charge against him.
"Poor white trash, Mr.. Johnsing."
briefly replied the largest of the two
cannibals.
MI. Bones-Ish should say. prisoner"
began the King, ''whst do you say for
yourself?"
II am a white man." replied the
traveller; ''but l 'aven't 'ad any SOAP
for years. so l plead Matchmaking cir
cumstances. Besides. | am 'ungry. Will
you not give me some breakfast
The Kings face grew bright with
rage--for 1t could not grow any darker
than it was--and he turned to his
brother Kings, and conversed with them
rapidly in the Mjambwe tongue. They
were evidently discussing the fate of the
traveller, for presently the middle King
cleared his throat. and said:
Prisoner. you have forfeited your
life, but we are disposed to be merciful.
You ought properly to be baked alive.
and afterward eaten. but we shall pro-
nounce . lighter sentence. You will
listen attentively while we sing the
opening chorus and the favorite planta-
ton melodies. and you will guess every
conundrum and laugh at every joke.
Say I not wisely. Brother Bones?"
A unanimous yah! YAH" from the
other Kings expressed their warm up.
prevail.
mo! nor cried the traveller, in an
agony of fear. "Give me some little
show. Burn me. If you will. but do not
torture me on this oily Christmas morn
ing with your lawful songs and CO
nnndrums- I've card them all At
'Ome." And In his desperation the
wretched man fell on his knees before
tho native King who had pronounced
the dreadful sentence. That monarch.
indignant beyond measure, raised his
blow over the head. Tho whole earth
o0cu10u u IcCl, 0uO IuO uOOLu0O WHO
man became unconscious.
When he regained his senses he
found himself sitting on the shore Of the
lake where he had sat the night before.
A young man neatly dressed In Euro
pean clothes stood before him. and re-
marked, in . graceful way: "Mr. Jones'
I believe"
"And you are Nh. Smith. I desssy,"
replied the traveller. lave you go4
anything to heat with your
The young man had been sent to find
the traveller. He had with him all sorts
of stores. including canned plum-pud-
ding and boned turkey. As he drew the
travellers arm in his. and assisted him to
the place where breakfast was awaiting
them. he said: II wish you . merry
Christmasr'
1t was the merr!est Christmas the
traveller had ever known, and when he
returned to England with more new
rakes. and two private sources of the
Nile. he said that Ill his honors could
not give him thu deliDht which he had