The method of
landing the surf boats and the wonderful dexterity with which the
natives handle them is worth a whole chapter to itself. But it
might prove tedious reading, so suffice it to say, that with one man
standing erect in the stern with a steering oar, and the others
paddling like demons, the Ivory Coast boatmen invariably land their
passengers, in a smother of foam which seems overwhelming, without
spilling a drop of water on them. Not a visitor to this coast but
has been impressed by their wonderful skill.
"Well, here we are," remarked Billy, looking about him at the novel
surroundings.
"The first thing to do," announced Frank, "is to go to the house of
Monsieur Desplaines, to whom Mr. Barr gave us a letter of introduction,
and talk over our plans."
Monsieur Desplaines was the consular agent of the United States
government at Assini, which is a French port, and had promised by
cable to Mr. Barr to give, the young travelers all the advice that
his experiences could suggest. He had also volunteered to select
for them a train of native baggage carriers, and hunters that would
be reliable. There are no roads into the heart of Africa and
everything is transported by human pack-trains. The natives of this
part of the coast are strong, muscular men not easily fatigued and
are capable of carrying burdens on their heads twenty-five miles or
more a day without exhaustion.
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