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CHAPTER XXVI
A MODERN TRAVELER'S ACCOUNT OF THE DWARFS AND THEIR HABITS. – WHERE AND HOW THEY BURY THEIR DEAD. – HUNTING FOR THE DWARFS. – HOW THEY MAKE THEIR HUTS
Now that I have told you what Herodotus and Homer wrote about the Dwarfs, let us come to a more modern account of them. We read the following in Rev. Dr. Krapf's "Travels and Missionary Labors in East Africa:"
"Noteworthy are the reports which in the year 1840 were communicated to me by a slave from Enarea, who, by order of the King of Shoa, was charged with the care of my house in Angolala during my residence in Onkobez. His name was Dilbo, and he was a native of Sabba, in Enarea. As a youth, he had made caravan journeys to Kaffa, and accompanied the slave-hunters from Kaffa to Tuffte, in a ten-days' expedition, where they crossed the Omo, some sixty feet wide, by means of a wooden bridge, reaching from thence to Kullu in seven days, which is but a few days' journey from the Dokos, a Pigmy race of whom Dilbo told almost fabulous stories" (p. 50).
Then Dr. Krapf gives an account of Dilbo, which does not bear on the subject, and then continues:
"He told me that to the south of Kaffa and Sura there is a very sultry and humid country, with many bamboo woods (meaning, no doubt, palm-trees), inhabited by the race called Dokos, who are no bigger than boys ten years old; that is, only four feet high. They have a dark olive-colored complexion, and live in a completely savage state, like the beasts, having neither houses, temples, nor holy trees, like the Gallas, yet possessing something like an idea of a higher being, called Yer, to whom, in moments of wretchedness and anxiety, they pray, not in an erect posture, but reversed, with the head on the ground, and the feet supported upright against a tree or stone. In prayer they say, 'Yer, if thou really dost exist, why dost thou allow us thus to be slain? We do not ask thee for food and clothing, for we live on serpents, ants, and mice. Thou hast made us, why dost thou permit us to be trodden under foot?' The Dokos have a chief, no laws, no weapons. They do not hunt nor till the ground, but live solely on fruits, roots, mice, serpents, ants, honey, and the like, climbing trees and gathering the fruits like monkeys, and both sexes go completely naked. They have thick protruding lips, flat noses, and small eyes. The hair is not woolly, and is worn by the women over the shoulders. The nails on the hands and feet are allowed to grow like the talons of vultures, and are used in digging for ants, and in tearing to pieces the serpents, which they devour raw, for they are unacquainted with fire. The spine of the snake is the only ornament worn around the neck, but they pierce the ears with a sharp-pointed piece of wood."
Then Dr. Krapf adds that they are never sold beyond Enarea, and continues as follows:
"Yet I can bear witness that I heard of these little people not only in Shoa, but also in Ukambani, two degrees to the south, and in Barava, a degree and a half to the north of the equator. In Barava a slave was shown to me who accorded completely with the description of Dilbo. He was four feet high, very thick set, dark complexioned, and lively, and the people of the place assured me that he was of the Pigmy race of the interior. It is not impossible, too, that circumstances, such as continual rains from May to January, and other means, may contribute to produce a diminutive people of stunted development in the interior of Africa. A priori, therefore, the reports collected from different and mutually independent points of Africa can not be directly contradicted, only care must be taken to examine with caution the fabulous element mixed up with what may be true by native reporters. In the Suali dialect 'dogo' means small, and in the language of Enarea 'doko' is indicative of an ignorant and stupid person."
Now I think, though Dr. Krapf was a long way from where I was, that his Dwarfs must be the same people as the Obongos, though they do not bear the same name; but you must remember that the Obongos are called by three different names by other tribes. It is true the Dwarf he saw was very black, but then there may be some Dwarfs much darker than others, just as some negroes are darker than others.
Then I said to the Ashango interpreter, "Ask the little Obongos where they bury their dead." I wanted to know, though I did not tell him why. I wanted the skeleton of an Obongo to bring home, and I would have been willing to give a thousand dollars for one.
"Don't ask such a question of the Obongos," said he.
"And why?" I inquired.
"Because," he answered, "they would be so frightened they would all run away. Even we ourselves, the Ashangos, who are their friends, know not where they bury their dead, and I will tell you why: they are afraid that the Ashangos would steal the skulls of the dead people for fetiches, and if they could procure but one they would always know where the Obongos were in the forest."
"Tell me," said I, "how they bury their dead."
"When an Obongo dies," said my Ashango friend, "there is great sorrow among the Dwarfs, and the men are sent into every part of the forest to find a tall tree which is hollow at the top. If they find one, they come back to the settlement and say, 'We have found a tree with a hollow.' Then the people travel into the forest, guided by the man who has found the hollow tree, and taking with them the body of the dead Obongo. When they have reached the spot, some of them ascend the tree, carrying with them creepers to be used as cords for drawing up the body, and the corpse is then drawn up and deposited in the hollow, which is immediately filled with earth, and dry leaves, and the twigs of trees."
"But," said I, "big hollow trees, such as you have been speaking of, are not found every day. If they do not find one, what then?"
"It is so, Oguizi. Sometimes they can not find a big hollow tree; then," said my Ashango guide, "they wander into the forest, far from paths and villages, in search of a little stream, which they turn from its natural bed, and then dig in it a big, deep hole, wherein they bury the body of the Obongo, after which they bring back the water to its own bed again, and the water forever and ever runs over the grave of the Obongo, and no one can ever tell where the grave of the Obongo is."
"Why," said I to myself, "this way of burying an Obongo reminds me of the burial of Attila."
This is all I know of the way the Obongos bury their dead, and this was told me by the Ashangos. The Obongos, who had seen me holding so long a talk with the Ashangos, began to appear frightened, and asked what we had been talking about. The Ashangos answered that we had been talking about hunting wild beasts. After a while we departed, apparently good friends with them, but not before promising the Obongos that I would come again and see them.
The next day I went hunting in order to kill meat and bring it to the Dwarfs, and their delight was great when I brought them five monkeys. A little while after I had put the monkeys on the ground I said, "Dwarfs, let us be good friends. Don't you see that I do not desire to kill you or capture you? I wish only to know you well. Every time I come to see you I bring you food and nice things." "That is so," said the Dwarfs, headed by my friend Misounda.
The hours passed away, and as evening approached I said, "Dwarfs, what do you say to my spending the night in your settlement, and going back to-morrow to Niembouai?" "Muiri! muiri!" said the Dwarfs, and immediately a little house was given me for the night. I was glad, for I wanted to be able to say when I came back home that I had slept in a house of the Dwarfs.
The little Dwarfs went into the woods to collect firewood for me, and to look after their traps. After a while they came back, and they, too, brought food. Misounda brought me a basket of wild berries, and the other Obongos presented me game, consisting of three beautiful fat rats, a nice little mouse, one squirrel, two fish, and a piece of snake. They laid these things before me. To please them, I ordered the squirrel to be cooked on a bright charcoal fire, and how delighted they were to see me eat it! how they shouted when they saw me take mouthful after mouthful!
The sun went down behind the trees, and soon after it was dark in the village of the Dwarfs. I could see that they were still afraid of me. They had an idea that probably I wanted to capture some of them. At last the time came for me to go to bed. I had some trouble to get through the door, and when I was inside I lay down on my bed made of sticks, and put my head on my revolvers as a pillow. I had a little fire lighted so that the smoke would drive the mosquitoes away, and before lying down I looked round to see if there were any snakes. You must always take that precaution in that part of the world. The Dwarfs kept awake all night outside of their huts, for they were not yet certain that I had not come to capture some of them.
Their little huts were of a low, oval shape, like gipsy tents. The lowest part, that nearest the entrance, was about four feet from the ground; the greatest breadth was also four feet. On each side were three or four sticks for the man and woman to sleep upon. The huts were made of flexible branches of trees, arched over and fixed into the ground, the longest branches being in the middle, and the others successively shorter, the whole being covered with large leaves.
The next morning the Ashangos and the Dwarfs went into the forest to look after the traps they had made to capture game.
As the time of our departure from Niembouai had arrived, I said to the Dwarfs that I must bid them good-by, for I was going away toward where the sun rises. "Now you see," said I, "you have always been afraid of me. Tell me, have I done harm to any one of you?" "No, no," they exclaimed; "no, no," said my friend Misounda. So I shook hands with them, and they said to me in parting, "You will see more little Dwarfs in the countries where you are going. Be kind to them, as you have been to us."
As I walked on through the jungle, my mind kept dwelling on the strange Obongos. "If you want one of them to take away with you," said my Ashango guide, "we will capture one for you, if you will give us beads and copper rings." "No, no," said I, "the Spirit does not want to capture people; he wants only to see people."
Now I must tell you what I think of these Obongos. I think that they are the very same people of whom Herodotus and Homer had heard; that they are closely allied to the Bushmen of South Africa, for the hair on their heads grows in the same way; only they are darker in color, and in that respect seem to be a shade between the negro and the Bushman. They are also a little shorter in stature than the Bushmen, and I have a strong belief that in times past they belonged probably to the same nation.
And now we must take leave of the Dwarfs, for I am to talk to you of the great negro tribes in whose country the little creatures live. If I should learn any thing more about the Dwarfs as I go forward, I will surely relate it to you.
CHAPTER XXVII
TRAVELING EASTWARD. – MEASURING HEIGHTS. – INSTRUMENTS USED. – REACH MOUAOU-KOMBO. – APPREHENSIONS OF THE PEOPLE. – PALAVER WITH THE CHIEF. – AN UNLUCKY SHOT. – HOSTILITIES COMMENCED
Several days have passed away since I have left the Pigmies and the village of Niembouai, and I am traveling toward the rising sun. The country is getting more and more mountainous as we advance eastward, the forests are very thick, the jungle is very dense, and many of the trees are of immense size. An apparently perpetual mist shrouds the summit of many of the hills, where it rains almost every day, though on the sea-shore it is the dry season. Village after village of the wild Ashango inhabitants of the country have been passed by us; many are deserted. The people are afraid of me, and do not wish to see me.
Some of the mountains we passed had queer names. One was called Birougou-Bouanga. I remember well Birougou-Bouanga; it was 2574 feet in height.
In order to know the elevation of the country as I traveled along, I had two kinds of instruments with me – aneroids, and an apparatus for ascertaining at what point water boils. The boiling apparatus was a queer-looking instrument, and was a great object of fright to the negroes. The illustration gives you an idea of the instrument. Here is a policeman's lantern; in it is a lamp, and on the top is a kind of kettle in which water is put when to be used. To the kettle is attached by a screw a thermometer, the bulb of which is immersed in the water. A short time after the lamp is lit, the water boils and forces the mercury along the tube; then the degrees are read off on the instrument. With this reading entered on the tables which are made for this instrument, the height of the place where you are is obtained.
The aneroid looks very much like a large watch, but having only one hand. The higher you ascend, the lower the reading, on account of the atmospheric pressure. This reading, referred to a table, gives the height, as by boiling water. Any one of you, procuring these instruments when going in the country, can amuse himself when he travels in taking the height of the hills and mountains he passes over.
On my return from the country of the Dwarfs I found improvements in the boiling apparatus, and also in the artificial horizon. There is now a very small artificial horizon, invented by my friend Captain George, of the British Navy, and it is very portable, especially when compared with the old one travelers had to use. It will be a great boon to explorers. I doubt that a more useful and safe one to the traveler can be made. Captain George, I am very happy to say, is the gentleman who taught me how to take astronomical observations, and how to calculate them.
At the foot of Birougou-Bouanga was the village of Niembouai-Olomba, which meant Upper Niembouai. The head men of Niembouai and of Upper Niembouai were two brothers, so the people consented to receive me, and we tarried there a few days. The village was situated just at the junction of two gorges or valleys, one of which ran almost directly north and south, and the other east and west. From the village, looking up, I could see the sun as it rose almost from the natural horizon. The wind during the day blew all the time from the south, and early in the morning the temperature was quite cool – 69° Fahrenheit.
After leaving Niembouai-Olomba, and traveling through the great and dense forest, we came to a village called Mobana, the inhabitants belonging to the Ashango tribe, for we were still in the Ashango territory. The chief of Mobana was called Rakombo. The village was situated at the summit of a mountain 2369 feet in height, at the foot of which ran a beautiful stream called Bembo. The Bembo was the first river I had reached which ran toward the east, toward where the sun rose. How glad I was! "It no doubt falls into the Congo River," I said, for I began to hear of a large stream in our line of march going toward the rising sun.
The great embarrassment now was that the people were so much afraid of me, not as a spirit who brings the plague, but as a spirit whose evil eye they dared not meet. I succeeded in leaving Mobana, as I had left scores of villages before, without trouble, and Rakombo had taken me to a village farther east with the name of Mouaou-Kombo. The name of the village proper was Mouaou, and the chief's name was Kombo. If the people of the wild tribes I had passed before had been afraid of me, the people of Mouaou-Kombo stood in still greater dread of my coming. The people of Mobana, who had taken me to that village, had disappeared one by one, and Rakombo himself, their chief, had deserted me. So I was left all alone with my Commi men among the Mouaou-Kombo people.
A few days after my arrival at Mouaou-Kombo, if you had sought me or my Commi men in the village, you would not have found us there. Where were we? We were encamped by ourselves not far from the village, from which we had withdrawn to show the people that we were tired of remaining there, and impatient to take our departure. We had been busy that day in cutting down trees around our camp to serve as an abatis and safeguard, so that nobody could approach us without making us aware of it by their noise in penetrating the dense branches. We passed the night in reasonable security, though without much fire, for our dogs, Andèko, Commi-Nagoumba, Rover, Turk, Fierce, and Ndjègo, would have in an instant apprised us by their barking of any strange visitor attempting to enter the camp. All our luggage was by us. The path from Mouaou-Kombo to our retreat was very steep.
I had that day sent Igala, Rebouka, and Mouitchi, armed to the teeth, along the path leading eastward, telling them to look sharp, and to ascertain, if they came to a village whether the inhabitants did not want us to pass through their country; in fact, to learn all the news they could, and make report to me. After two hours Igala came back laughing, and saying that he had entered a big village, from which the people had fled in perfect terror, thinking I had come with him, but that finally he had succeeded in holding a parley with some of the inhabitants, and learned that they had trouble with the Mouaou-Kombo people. Igala told them not to be afraid of me, and that they must not be alarmed if they should see me come to their village. So far all was right; we knew exactly what was ahead of us. "Well done," I said, "my boys."
The next morning a deputation of villagers of Mouaou-Kombo came to our camp and begged us to come back, saying that if I would return, in two days they would conduct me by another route to the southeast in order to avoid the hostile villages. So we returned to the village, the villagers helping my men in carrying our luggage back. Now I regretted that I had no more Commi men with me, so that we might have been independent of strangers for the transportation of our luggage.
As I came back to Mouaou-Kombo, little did I know what a dark cloud was hanging over us, for my heart was filled with joy at the prospect of soon continuing our journey. Little did I dream of the storm that in a short time was to burst upon us. Little did I think, as I ascended the hill in the midst of the peals of laughter of my Commi men and of the Ashangos, that there was fighting and bloodshed in store; that I was soon to be engaged with my men in defending our lives, and in beating a disastrous retreat along the way we had come, and see the mournful end of that glorious journey upon which I had set my heart! Like the little leaf cast upon the stream of Mokenga, I was drifting I knew not whither. I had no knowledge then of the breakers ahead, and now I am going to relate to you the sad story.
I had entered again the village of Mouaou-Kombo; our luggage had been put back in the huts; Kombo, the chief, headed by his elders, had come to receive me, beating his kendo as he advanced. After a while the elders departed, and the chief and his queen were seated by my side in the street. The people were passing to and fro to their accustomed avocations, and every thing was going on as usual.
"Is it true," said Kombo to me, "that you Oguizis kill people as we Ashangos kill monkeys and the wild beasts of the forest? We Ashangos believe you do it, and that is the reason we are afraid of you. We are even afraid that your eye is an evil one, and that a look of yours can bring death." Then the chief stopped and looked at me.
"Nèshi, nèshi, nèshi," I repeated three times (no, no, no), and I spat on the ground to show him how I hated what he had said. "No," said I, "Kombo, the Oguizi loves people, loves the Ashangos, and kills no one."
As I was speaking, a goat, the peace-offering of the king, stood before me, and several bunches of plantain lay near by, which had been brought in a little before by his people. The king said, "Eat these, Spirit. In two days I will conduct you where you want to go. I am so glad to hear that you do not kill people, but surely us Ashangos are afraid of you; but in a day's journey you will reach the Njavi country."
Then the queen said, "I told you, my husband, that the Oguizi did not kill people as the Ashangos kill monkeys. Now don't you believe me?" said she, looking at the king right in the face. Then, turning to me, she said, "Oguizi, I am cooking a pot of koa (a root) for you and your men; will you eat them?"
"Certainly," said I.
I had hardly uttered those words when there appeared before us four warriors of a hostile village, who said they would make war on the Mouaou-Kombo people if they dared to take me through their village; that they did not want me to pass that way.
Kombo, the chief, said to me, "Oguizi, go in your hut; I do not want these people to see you," and he asked my men to fire guns to frighten the warriors. Igala fired, advancing toward the four warriors, who fled. I could not help laughing. Other guns were fired, when I heard, back of where the king and queen and myself were seated, the report of another gun, and I was startled to see the Mouaou villagers, with affrighted looks and shouts of alarm, running away in every direction. The king and queen got up, and fled along with the rest.
"Mamo! mamo!" was heard every where.
I got up, and, looking back in the direction where the gun had been fired, I saw, not far from my hut, the lifeless body of a leading Ashango man.
Igalo had done the deed. He rushed toward me and shouted, "I did not do it on purpose; the gun went off before I had raised it."
Now, indeed, I might be sure that the Ashangos would believe that the Oguizi could kill people as they did monkeys.
What was to be done? I was hundreds of miles away from the sea.
I called the king back. "Do not be afraid," I said.
Kombo cried back to me, "You say you come here to do no harm, and you do not kill people. Is not this the dead body of a man?" and in an instant he was out of sight.
Oh, how sorry I felt! but there was but little time for melancholy reflections.
I shouted back, "Ashango people, I am very sorry. What can I do? I will pay you the price of twenty men for that man who has been killed."
In the mean time the war-drums began to beat furiously in every part of this large village, and the warriors came out by hundreds, armed with spears, bows and poisoned arrows, battle-axes, and other murderous implements of war.
My men held beads and goods in their hands, and shouted, "Come, we will pay you for that man that has been killed."
Then suddenly one of the elders, bolder than the rest, shouted, "Let there be no war; let us have peace. The Oguizi will pay for that man's life."
There was a lull. Some said, "Let us make war; let us kill the people who have come with the Oguizi, for they have come to kill us," while another party shouted, "Let us have peace." The war-drums for a while ceased to beat, and the horns calling the warriors from the forest had ceased to blow.
There was a lull – just what I wanted. I knew it was utterly impossible to make those people believe that that man had been killed by accident. I might just as well have tried to make them believe that a spear would go through a man and kill him without being hurled by another man.
That lull was precious time to me, though it was but short. I encouraged my seven Commi men, who had come close to me for advice. "Don't be afraid, boys," I said. "We are men; we can fight. Not one of you will be delivered to the Ashangos for this palaver. We will fight our way back; get ready. Though they may be inclined for peace, let us prepare for the worst, and woe to our enemies if they want to fight." Then, turning toward Igalo, I said to him reproachfully, though kindly, "See what your carelessness has brought upon us."
In a very short time we had got out an additional supply of ammunition, two hundred bullets extra for each man, and six one-pound cans of powder. We could not be taken unawares, for our guns had never left our hands, and by the side of each man hung always a bag containing one hundred bullets and two or three pounds of powder; so you see we had ammunition enough to carry on a desperate fight, and we were bound to sell our lives dearly, but not before having exhausted every means of conciliation.
Then, pointing to seven otaitais, I said, "Get ready to put them on at an instant's notice." They contained my precious things – photographs, scientific instruments, and valuable notes.
We were ready for our retreat in case war should be decided upon by the Ashangos.
The appearances were hopeful, and I began to think that the palaver would be settled satisfactorily, when suddenly a woman, whom afterward I recognized to be the queen, came wailing and tearing her hair. Stripping off her garment of grass-cloth, she rolled herself on the ground before me, crying, "Oguizi, what have I done to you? Why have you killed my sister? What had she done to you? She gave you food – that is the harm she has done you. Go and see her body behind the hut," and she wailed aloud. Then from afar the friendly elder, who did not desire at first to make war, shouted, "Why have you killed my wife, oh wicked Oguizi?"
The fatal bullet had gone through the man, and then through a hut, killing the sister of the queen, who was busy behind her dwelling.
As the sad news spread, a general shout for war arose from the increasing multitude, and every man who had not his spear or bow rushed for it, and those who had them brandished them in sign of defiance. War was declared – there was no help for it. Oh dear, what was to be done? I had not come into that far country to kill these savages, but then my men, who had left their homes, their wives, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, children, must not be killed – they trusted in me. What shall we do? Is Paul Du Chaillu to run away from the enemy? Shall these savages call him a coward? Such thoughts made the blood rush to my head. I shall never play the coward, but then there are many ways besides fighting to show one's courage. My mind was made up; so I girded my loins for the fight, sad at heart. First I thought I would set fire to the house where my baggage was, but there was so much powder there – several hundred pounds – that in exploding it more Ashangos would be killed. We had shed the first blood; we must be careful to shed no more without being obliged to do so, and I offered a silent prayer to God to guide me in what was to be done.
My seven Commi men stood by me, ready to start with their otaitais on their backs. "Be not afraid, boys," said I; "we are men."
We had to go through the whole length of the village before we could reach the path by which we had come to Mouaou-Kombo.
I shouted, "Ashangos, all the goods I have I give to you for the people that have been killed. Now we go away. We did not come here to make war; we did not come here to kill people. We don't wish to kill you, so do not compel us to do so."
My Commi boys were cool and steady, and, keeping a firm line, we marched through the street of the village. A rain of spears and of poisoned arrows came from behind the huts, and showered all around us. I am wounded – a sharp-pointed arrow pierces me. Then Igala, my right-hand man, is wounded. "Don't fire, boys; let us shed no more blood in this village if we can help it," I said. "Press onward; do not be afraid. There is but one God, the ruler of the universe; all will be for the best."
We advance steadily, the crowd ahead of us in the street brandishing their spears and sending arrows at us; but they keep far away, while, with guns pointed toward them, we continue to advance, Rebouka and Mouitchi looking around toward the huts, for our hidden enemies were the ones we dreaded the most. Another shower of spears and arrows fell in the midst of us. I look around – no one is wounded; when, lo! Macondai is struck by an arrow. The infuriated savages, shouting their terrific war-cries, become bolder, and come nearer. Must more blood be shed? And now Rebouka is wounded. Five spears fall by me, and a perfect shower of them fly all around.
Igala says, "Chally, do you think we are going to let these savages wound you? A man in our country would be put to death if he dared to raise his hand against you. Don't you see our blood? May we not fire and kill some of them?"
"Be patient, my boys. Remember we shed the first blood. Wait a little while; perhaps they will desist. They dare not come too near; when they do we will kill them."
Oh dear, one of our dogs is killed – poor Andèko! three spears go into him and lay him prostrate; he gives a shriek of pain, and he is dead. Our other dogs are by us. Commi-Nagoumba is in a great rage; he barks furiously at the Ashangos; a spear has just wounded him slightly on the back. Rover, Fierce, Turk, and Ndjègo are ready to help us; we have trouble to keep them in check. They are going to be useful in the forest – they will discover the men in ambush. The Ashangos know this, and they try to kill them. Just as we reach the end of the village, Rover and Fierce are wounded, each receiving an arrow in his body.
