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 The natives having taken complete charge of the ship, we managed to hoist our flag for assistance, which was soon at hand, but too late to be of any use, for as soon as they had liberated their chief from his imprisonment, they all made off as quickly as they could to their own village. The captain was of course greatly to blame for not saying a word to any of us of his intention and for so underrating the strength of the chief's people. The chief was eventually brought to justice, however, by our own Consul.

One other little break occurred to me to vary the monotony of those long months. Attached to our ship was a small cutter which used to run down to small villages outside the Cameroon River. To one called Victoria I journeyed once with the mate and our little craft on a small trading venture. Victoria is situated at the foot of the splendid Cameroon mountain, which, like its neighbour at Fernando Po, always has snow at the peak; it is over 13,000 feet high and at that time only one or two men had ventured to the summit one was, I believe, the late Sir Richard Burton. Since then several others have succeeded, amongst them the present Sir Harry Johnston, who did a lot of travelling when he was Vice-Consul, in those parts. Victoria is a snug little place. It was founded some years ago by a very old missionary, a Mr. Seagar, a man who did a great work in his time and whose name will never be forgotten in the Cameroon River. It lies in what is called Ambas Bay, which is sheltered somewhat from the south-west winds by two small islands. On one of these a British Consulate was erected a few years ago. The whole of this part as well as the Cameroon River is now a portion of the German Colony. We soon completed our business here and returned once more to our duties in the river. Between Victoria and