The Worst Of This
Was, However, That While Obanjo's Face Was To The Coming Foe, His
Back Was To The Crew, And They Forthwith Commenced To Re-Subside
Into The Bottom Of The Boat, Paddles And All.
I, as second in
command, on seeing this, said a few blood-stirring words to them,
and Obanjo sent a few more of great power at them over his shoulder,
and so we kept the paddles going.
Presently from round the corner shot a Fan canoe. It contained a
lady in the bows, weeping and wringing her hands, while another lady
sympathetically howling, paddled it. Obanjo in lurid language
requested to be informed why they were following us. The lady in
the bows said, "My son! my son!" and in a second more three other
canoes shot round the corner full of men with guns. Now this looked
like business, so Obanjo and I looked round to urge our crew to
greater exertions and saw, to our disgust, that the gallant band had
successfully subsided into the bottom of the boat while we had been
eyeing the foe. Obanjo gave me a recipe for getting the sweeps out
again. I did not follow it, but got the job done, for Obanjo could
not take his eye and gun off the leading canoe and the canoes having
crept up to within some twenty yards of us, poured out their simple
tale of woe.
It seemed that one of those miscreant boys was a runaway from a Fan
village.
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