Kitabı oku: «Stories of the Gorilla Country», sayfa 13

CHAPTER XXIX

WAR THREATENED – OSHORIA ARMS HIS MEN – WE BLUFF THEM OFF, AND FALL SICK WITH FEVER – THE MBOLA IVOGA, OR END OF MOURNING TIME – A DEATH AND BURIAL – FINDING OUT THE SORCERER – THE VILLAGE DESERTED – I BECOME VICEROY AT WASHINGTON

News came that Oshoria, the chief of Guabuirri, a village situated at the junction of the Ogobai and Anengue rivers, intended to stop me on my way back to Washington. It was reported that he had assembled all his fighting men, and was bent upon war.

Poor Damagondai was much troubled. He wanted no war. He sent his brother down with a plate, a mug, and a brass pan, to propitiate Oshoria. These were great presents. A plate, a mug, and a pan are thought to be very valuable in the regions of the Anengue.

I was very angry. I had done no harm to the people of Guabuirri; I had passed their village in peace. Oshoria wanted to exact tribute for my passage; but he was not the king of the country, and I determined to put down Mr. Oshoria.

We cleaned our guns, and I prepared my revolvers, and the next morning we set out, without waiting for the return of the king's brother, greatly to the dismay of Damagondai and of his peaceful people. But nothing must stop us. We must return to Washington. My men swore that they would fight to the death.

When we came in sight of Guabuirri, I saw that some of my fellows, who, a short time before, were going to be so brave, began to show the white feather. I therefore pointed to my revolver, and told them that I would blow out the brains of the first man who failed to fight to the last. They had a great respect for this wonderful revolver, and they immediately answered, "We are men."

So we pulled down the stream and soon came almost opposite Oshoria's people. I gave orders to make for the town. On the shore stood about one hundred and fifty fellows armed with spears and axes, and led by ten men who had guns. All of them were making a great noise.

My men were all well armed, and, if I remember well, there were only sixteen of us. I had my revolver in one hand and a double-barrelled gun in the other. The men all had guns, which were placed beside them in such a way that the natives on the shore could see them. At this piece of bravado, Oshoria's men became very civil. They retreated as we approached the landing; and instead of continuing their war-shouts and firing at us, they received us peaceably, and shouted to us not to fire.

Damagondai's brother hurried down to meet me, and announced that there was no palaver: I must not kill anybody. I was then led to where the quarrelsome Oshoria stood. Looking at him with a stern look, I reproached him for his conduct, telling him that if anybody had been killed, the palaver would have been on his own head. He said he had been vexed that I did not stop to see him on my way up; and, after making further excuses, added, "Aouè olomé," "thou art a man;" an expression used in several ways, either to designate a smart man or a rascal, or, in the best sense, a very brave man. I was content to accept it as an intended compliment.

I was presented with fruits and fowls, and we were presently the best of friends. To show them what I could do in the way of shooting, I brought down a little bird which sat on a very high tree. They all declared that I must have a very big shooting fetich; and they reverenced me greatly.

The next morning, I left Oshoria, and once more I glided down the placid waters of the Ogobai. I reached Washington in safety.

It was in the month of August, and the malaria of the Anengue marshes began to tell on me. I fell sick with dysentery and symptoms of malignant fever. In three days I took one hundred and eighty grains of quinine, and thus happily succeeded in breaking the force of the fever, which was the most dangerous of the two diseases. I was ill from the 18th to the 31st of August; and I did not regain my strength till the 9th of September. The Commi waited patiently for my recovery before they would go through some of then ceremonies.

There was to be a mbola ivoga at Biagano, that is, an end of the mourning time, to be celebrated with ceremonies and a terrible noise.

When anyone of importance dies, the clan, or town, or the relatives, cease to wear their best clothes, and make it a point to go unusually dirty. No ornaments whatever, such as earrings or bracelets or beads, are worn. This is the way they "mourn." Mourning lasts generally from one year to two years. The ceremonies at the breaking-up of this mourning are what I am now about to describe.

The man who had died left seven wives, a house, a plantation, several slaves, and other property. All this the elder brother inherited; and on him, as the heir, it devolved to give the grand feast. For this feast every canoe that came brought jars of mimbo, or palm-wine. Sholomba and Jombouai, the heir, with his people, had been out for two weeks, fishing, and now returned with several canoe-loads of dry fish. From his plantation a large supply of palm-wine was brought in. The women and slaves had prepared a great quantity of food. Everything needful was provided in great abundance.

In the village the people all got ready their best clothes and furbished up their ornaments. Drums and kettles were collected for music; powder was brought out for the salutes; and at last all was ready for the mbola ivoga.

The seven wives of the deceased seemed quite jolly, for to-morrow they were to lay aside their widows' robes, and to join in the jollification as brides. The heir could have married them all; but he had generously given up two to a younger brother, and one to a cousin. He had already sixteen wives, and might well be content with only four more. Twenty wives is a pretty good number.

No wonder the widows were glad to see the time of mourning over. For two whole years they had been almost imprisoned in their husband's house, hardly ever going out.

At seven o'clock three guns were fired off, to announce that the widows had done eating a certain mess, mixed of various ingredients, supposed to have magical virtues, and by which they are released from their widowhood. This was the first part of the ceremony. They then put on bracelets and anklets, and the finest calico they had. Some of the Commi women wear brass anklets on each leg almost as high as the knee, as you see represented in the picture. The weight must be between twenty and thirty pounds on each leg. Besides these anklets, they wear a few bracelets of the same material. On their necks they wear beads.

From early morning the guests had been coming, all bringing provisions and mimbo (palm-wine) with them, and dressed in their best clothes. There were several hundreds in all. The guests that lived far away had come the day before. About nine o'clock all the guests sat down on mats, spread about outside of the house of the deceased, and along the main street. They were divided into little groups; and before each was set an immense jar of mimbo, and food was spread before them. All began to talk pleasantly, till, suddenly, the Biagano people fired off a volley of about one hundred guns. This was the signal for the drinking and eating to begin. Men, women, and children set to, and ate as much as they could; and from this time till the next morning the orgies were continued without interruption. They drank, they sang, they shouted, they fired guns, and loaded them so heavily when they got tipsy that I wonder the old trade-guns did not burst. They drummed on everything that could possibly give out a noise. The women danced – such dances as are not seen elsewhere! You may imagine what they were, when every woman was so furiously tipsy.

This mbola ivoga would have lasted probably for several days, but the victuals and palm-wine finally gave out.

Next day, about sunrise, Jombouai came and asked me to assist at the concluding ceremony; for I had told him that I wanted to see every scene of the mbola ivoga. His brother's house, according to the custom, was to be torn down and burned – yes, burned to the ground, so that not a vestige of it would remain to remind the people that once there stood a house whose possessor was dead.

The people came around the house and fired guns; then, in a moment, as if they were an infuriated mob, they hacked the old house to pieces with axes and cutlasses; then they set fire to it. When the ruins were burnt, the feast was done.

This is the way they go out of mourning among the Commi. The widows were all married again, and, until another death should occur, everything would go smoothly again.

Hardly were the rejoicings over, when Ishungui, the man who had faithfully taken care of my house in my absence, lay at death's door. He had gone out on Jombouai's fishing excursion, in order to catch fish for the mbola ivoga which I have just described. He caught cold, and had now a lung fever. The people called for me. I knew as soon as I saw him that he must die, and I tried to prepare his mind for the change. But his friends and relatives by no means gave him up. They sent for a distinguished fetich doctor, and under his auspices they began the infernal din with which they seek to cure a dying man. I am afraid the cure is worse than the disease.

One of the Commi people's theories of disease is, that Obambou (the devil) has got into the sick man, and as long as the devil remains in the body there is no hope of curing the man. Now this devil is only to be driven out by noise, and accordingly a great crowd surround the sick man and beat drums and kettles close to his head, fire off guns close to his ears, and in every part of the house they sing, shout, dance, and make all the noise they can. This lasts till the poor fellow either dies or is better; but I must say that he generally dies, unless the operators get tired out first.

Ishungui died. He left no property, and his brother buried him in the sand, without a coffin, in a grave so shallow (as is the custom) that, when I came upon it some days after, I saw that the wild beasts had been there and eaten the corpse.

The mourning was short in this case; it lasted only six days. There were no wives or property; there was no feast. The relatives of the deceased slept one night in his house, as a mark of respect.

Among the Commi it is the custom, when a man has died, to keep the nchougou. The nchougou is a feast that takes place generally, if not always, after the man has been dead six days. There is drinking, eating, and dancing; but the rejoicing is not so uproarious as the ceremony of the mbola ivoga. Then the mourning begins. I think you will agree with me that the nchougou is a most extraordinary custom.

After Ishungui had died, it became necessary to discover the persons who had bewitched the dead man; for the Commi said, "How is it that a young man, generally healthy, should die so suddenly?" This they did not believe to be natural; hence they attributed his death to sorcerers, and were afraid that the sorcerers would kill other people.

A canoe had been despatched up to Lake Anengue to bring down a great doctor. They brought down one of Damagondai's sons, a great rascal. He had been foremost in selling me the idol, or mbuiti, of the slaves of which I spoke to you, and he was an evident cheat.

When all was ready for the trial, I went down to look at the doctor, who looked really diabolical. I never saw a more ugly-looking object.

He had on a high head-dress of black feathers. His eyelids were painted red, and a red stripe, from the nose upward, divided his forehead into two parts; another stripe passed around his head. The face was painted white, and on each side of the mouth were two round red spots. About his neck hung a necklace of grass, and also a cord, which held a box against his breast. This little box is sacred, and contains spirits. A number of strips of leopard's skin, and of skin of other animals, crossed his breast, and were exposed about his person; and all these were charmed and had charms attached to them. From each shoulder down to his hands was a white stripe, and one hand was painted quite white. To complete this horrible array, he wore around his body a string of little bells.

He sat on a box. Before him stood another box containing charms. On this stood a looking-glass, before which lay a buffalo-horn. In this horn there was some black powder, and it was said to be the refuge of many spirits. The doctor had also a little basket of snake-bones, which he shook frequently during his incantations, and several skins, to which little bells were attached. Near by stood a fellow beating a board with two sticks.

All the people of the village gathered about this couple. The doctor had, no doubt, impressed the people with his great power. His incantations were continued for a long time, and at last came to the climax. Jombouai was told to call over the names of persons in the village, in order that the doctor might ascertain if any of those named were sorcerers. As each name was called, the old cheat looked in the looking-glass to see the result.

During the whole operation I stood near him, which seemed to trouble him greatly. At last, after all the names were called, the doctor declared that he could not find any "witch-man," but that an evil spirit dwelt in the village, and many of the people would die if it continued there. I have a suspicion that this final judgment with which the incantations broke up was a piece of revenge upon me. I had no idea until the next day how seriously the word of one of these ougangas (doctors) is taken.

The next morning all was excitement. The people were scared. They said their mbuiti was not willing to have them live longer here; that he would kill them, etc. Then began the removal of all kinds of property, and the tearing down of houses, and by nightfall I was actually left alone in my house with a Mpongwe boy and my little Ogobai boy, Macondai, both of whom were anxious to be off.

Old Ranpano came to beg me not to be offended; he said that he dared not stay; that the mbuiti was now in town. He advised me as a friend to move also; but nobody wished me ill, only he must go, and would build his house not far off.

I did not like to abandon my house and settlement at Washington, which it had cost me a good deal of trouble to build. I called a meeting of the people, and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could get some of my own canoe boys and a few men to come and stay at my place. These began immediately to build themselves houses, and a little village was built, of which I was now, to my great surprise, offered the sovereignty. I remembered how the new king was made in the Gaboon, and I did not know but that the Commi had the same custom. The thought of the ceremony which precedes the assumption of royalty deterred me. Finally, the men determined to have me as their chief, next to Ranpano; and with this my ambition was satisfied.

CHAPTER XXX

HUNTING IN THE WOODS – THE MBOYO WOLF – WE CATCH ANOTHER YOUNG GORILLA – HE STARVES TO DEATH

Everything went on smoothly among the good Commi. When I absented myself they took great care of my property. They seemed proud of their honesty; and though it was a wild country, and they were a wild people, I felt very safe among them.

Now and then I left Washington to go and live entirely in the woods, and hunt, sometimes for gorillas, at other times for wild boars or buffaloes, or something else.

I was also very fond of hunting the mboyo, a very shy animal of the wolf kind, with long yellowish hair and straight ears. They are very cunning; and now and then you can see them in the grass engaged in hunting for themselves. I have often watched these animals surrounding and chasing game. They run very well together in a drove; and as their policy is to run round and round, they soon bewilder, tire out, and capture any animal of moderate endurance. As they run round, gradually their circle grows smaller and smaller; and of course the smaller it becomes the more bewildered becomes their prey.

Often I have seen them prying about alone in search of prey. How roguish they look! and I could only shoot them at very long distances. I never was able to get near one of them.

At times I went into the country where gorillas were plentiful, and had a good deal of fun and plenty of excitement. This country was not far from the village of a chief called Makaga Oune-jiou. This chief was affected with leprosy. He had already lost all the fingers of his left hand and two fingers of his right hand, besides the big toe of his left foot. But Makaga was very kind to me, and was much beloved by his people. His village was small, but was a very dear little village to him. It was surrounded by fields of sugar-cane, plantain trees, and little fields of ground-nuts; and now and then the gorillas came and helped themselves to the good things these people had planted. This made them very wroth, and they were always glad to have me come and spend a few days among them.

Early in the morning I could sometimes hear the gorillas, who then came quite near the village. Here I found that I need not make long journeys in order to reach the hunting ground. But they are difficult of approach; the slightest noise alarms them and sends them off. It is only once in a while that you can surprise an old male, and then he will fight you.

While staying with Makaga Oune-jiou I captured a second young gorilla; and we had an exciting time, I assure you, before we got him.

We were walking along in silence, when I heard a cry, and presently I saw not far from me, in the midst of a dense foliage, a female gorilla, with a tiny baby gorilla hanging to her breast. The mother was stroking the little one, and looking fondly down at it; and the scene was so pretty and touching that I withheld my fire and considered (like a soft-hearted fellow) whether I had not better leave them in peace. Before I could make up my mind, however, my hunter fired and killed the mother, who fell dead without a struggle.

The mother fell, but the baby clung to her, and, with piteous cries, endeavoured to attract her attention. I came up, and when it saw me it hid its poor little head in its mother's breast. It could neither walk nor bite, it was such a tiny little baby gorilla. We could easily manage it; and I carried it, while the men bore the mother on a pole.

When we got to the village another scene ensued. The men put the body down, and I set the little fellow near. As soon as he saw his mother he crawled to her and threw himself on her breast. He did not find his accustomed nourishment, and perceived that something was the matter with his mother. He crawled over her body, smelt at it, and gave utterance from time to time to a plaintive cry, "Hoo, hoo, hoo," which touched my heart.

I could get no milk for this poor little fellow. He could not eat, and consequently he died on the third day after he was caught.

CHAPTER XXXI

GOING TO UNKNOWN REGIONS – QUENGUEZA SENDS HIS SON AS A HOSTAGE – I TAKE HIM ALONG WITH ME – RECEPTION BY THE KING – OUR SPEECHES – QUENGUEZA AFRAID OF A WITCH – AN INCANTATION SCENE

Time passed on. It was several years since I left the United States, but nevertheless I determined to set out for the head waters of the Fernand-Vaz, and for countries undiscovered as yet by white men.

Quengueza had sent to me his eldest son, named Kombé (the sun), with a present of ebony wood, and his youngest son, a boy of ten, called Akounga; and he said I must come and leave Akounga in Ranpano's hands as a hostage for my safety. "You see," he sent word, "that I am not afraid of you. You may trust me."

I had to take my big boat, because no canoe would hold all the goods, powder and shot, guns, provisions, and medicines, I took along. It was to be a very, very long journey. I was the first white man to venture up in this direction, and I was anxious to get as far as possible.

We were fifteen in all in my boat. Another canoe, with fifteen more men, followed us. Quengueza's little boy was with us too. I would never have thought of such a thing as keeping the poor little fellow away from his mother and father. I took also the brave little Macondai, whom I had at first determined to leave behind, as being too small to stand the fatigues of such a journey. The little fellow entreated so much to be taken that I at last consented. He behaved like a man. Macondai grew fast as years went by, and I wish you could have seen him fighting by my side in Ashango land.

At last, after much fatigue and hard pulling, we reached the village of Goumbi, the residence of King Quengueza. Here I was received in the most triumphant manner. I could not make myself heard for the shouts and firing of guns. The whole population of Goumbi crowded down to the shore to see me, and I was led up in procession to an immense covered space, capable of holding at least a thousand people, and surrounded by seats. I found there strangers from various parts of the interior, who gazed at me, and especially at my hair, with the greatest wonder.

A large high seat was appointed for me, and another close to it was for Quengueza, who presently arrived with a face beaming with joy. He shook hands with me and then seated himself.

There was a dead silence in the vast crowd before us. Quengueza was an old, white-woolled negro, very tall, spare, and of a severe countenance, betokening great energy and courage, qualities for which he was celebrated all over their country. When younger he was the dread of all, but now that he had become the chief of his clan, and was getting old, he had grown milder, and become peaceful, to the great joy of the surrounding villages. He was a very remarkable man for his opportunities. He made haste to tell me that he was in mourning for his eldest brother, who had died two years before, and left him chief of their clan, the Abouya.

Quengueza had on a finely-knit black cap, and a grass body-cloth, which was black also; both the cap and cloth were of Ashira make, and were really beautiful. He had no shirt; that article is not allowed to mourners; but he wore an American coat which was too small for him.

After the king had done welcoming me, I called his little son, Akounga. When he had come forward, I said to the king in a loud voice, that the people might hear: "You sent your son to me to keep, so that I might feel safe to come to you. I am not afraid. I like you, and can trust you. Therefore I have brought your little son back to you. I do not want him as a hostage for my safety. Let him remain by the side of his mother."

At this there was a tremendous shouting, and the people seemed overjoyed.

The king rose to reply. There was immediately a dead silence; for Quengueza was greatly reverenced by his people. The king said: "This is my ntangani (white man), he has come from a far country to see me. I went down to beg him to come up to me. Now he has come. Let no one do harm to his people; for him I need not speak. Give food to his people. Treat them well. Do not steal anything. If you do not do as I say, A BIG PALAVER WILL COME UPON YOU!" This last sentence he uttered in a tremendous voice.

Then he addressed himself to the Ashira and Bakalai who were present, saying,: "Beware! Do not steal my white man, for if you should make the attempt, I will sell you all."

Then loads of plantains and sugar-canes, together with a hundred fowls, and several goats, were presented to me by the king, and this closed the ceremony.

The longer I stayed with Quengueza, the more I loved him; I was only sorry that he was so curiously superstitious. For a year he had not passed down the street which led most directly to the water, but had gone always by a roundabout way, because, when he came to the throne, this street was pronounced bewitched by a secret enemy of his; and he was persuaded that if he passed by it, he would surely die. This superstitious notion had originated in a dream of the king's which had been interpreted in that way.

Several times efforts had been made by distinguished doctors to drive away the aniemba (witch), which there lay in wait; but the king, though he believed in sorcery, did not have much faith in the exorcisers or doctors. He thought that, perhaps, the aniemba had not gone, and that it was better to be on the safe side, which was not to go on the road at all. But his subjects felt very much troubled about this matter; for they wanted their king to pass through their street sometimes.

Once more a last attempt was made to drive off the aniemba, or witch. A famous doctor from the far-off Bakalai country had been brought down to perform this act. His name was Aquailai.

In the evening the people gathered in great numbers under the immense hangar, or covered space in which I had been received, and there lit fires, around which they sat. The space thus covered was one hundred and fifty feet long by forty wide, and was roofed with palm branches and leaves.

About ten o'clock, when it was pitch dark, the doctor commenced operations by singing some boastful songs, recounting his power over witches. Immediately all the people gathered into their houses, and with such great haste, that two women failing to get home, and afraid to go farther through the streets, took refuge in my house. Then all the fires in the houses were carefully extinguished, those under the hangar having been already put out; and, in about an hour more, there was not a light of any kind in the whole town except mine. They had only asked of me that I should shut my door. The most pitchy darkness and the most complete silence reigned everywhere. No voice could be heard, even in a whisper, among the several thousands of people gathered in the gloom.

At last the silence was broken by the doctor, who, standing in the centre of the town, began some loud babbling, of which I could not make out the meaning. From time to time the people answered him in chorus. This went on for an hour, and was really one of the strangest scenes I ever took part in. I could see nothing but the faces of the two women in my house, who were badly frightened, poor things, as, in fact, all the people were. The hollow voice of the witch-doctor resounded curiously through the silence; and when the answer of many mingled voices came through the darkness, the ceremony really assumed the air of a poet's incantation scene.

At last, just at midnight by my watch, I heard the doctor approach. He had bells girded about him, which he jingled as he walked. He went to every family in the town, successively, and asked if to them belonged the aniemba (witch) that obstructed the king's highway. Of course, all answered no. Then he began to run up and down the bewitched street, calling out loudly for the witch to go off. Presently he came back and announced that he could no longer see the aniemba, which had doubtless gone, never to come back. At this, all the people rushed out of their houses, and shouted, "Go away! go away! and never come back to hurt our king!"

Then fires were lit, and all sat down to eat. This done, all the fires were once more extinguished; and the people sung wild songs until four o'clock. Then the fires were lit again.

At sunrise the whole population gathered to accompany their king down the dreaded street to the water. Quengueza, I know, was brave as a hunter and as a warrior. He was also very intelligent about many things regarding which his people were very stupid; but the poor old king was now horribly afraid. He was assured that the aniemba was gone; but he evidently thought that he was walking to almost certain death. He hesitated; but at last he determined to face his fate, and walked manfully down to the river and back, amidst the plaudits of his loyal subjects. So ended the ceremony; but Quengueza never went again on that road; his dread of it still remained.