AN OLD MAN KILLED FOR WITCHCRAFT--MY JOURNEY TO THE COUNTRY OF THE
CANNIBALS--STARTING ON THE ROUTE.
In the year 1856 I was again in the equatorial regions. I was in the
great forest, on my way to the cannibal country; yes, the country where
the people eat one another. It was a long way off, and how was I to get
there through the dense jungle? How was I to find my way in that vast
African forest? These were the thoughts that troubled me when I was in
the village of Dayoko.
The village of Dayoko lies not far from the banks of the Ntambounay
river, and is surrounded by beautiful groves of plantain trees.
Dayoko is one of the chiefs of the Mbousha tribe, and a wild and savage
set of people they are I can tell you. But Dayoko became my friend, and
said he would spare me a few men to take me part of the way.
These Mbousha people look very much like the Shekiani I have already
described. They are superstitious and cruel, and believe in witchcraft.
I stayed among them only a few days. I will now tell you what I saw
there.
In a hut I found a very old man. His wool (hair) was white as snow,
his face was wrinkled, and his limbs were shrunken. His hands were
tied behind him, and his feet were placed in a rude kind of stocks.
Several negroes, armed to the teeth, stood guard over him, and now and
then insulted him by angry words and blows, to which he submitted in
silence. What do you suppose all this meant?
This old man was to be killed for witchcraft!
A truly horrible delusion this witchcraft is!
I went to Dayoko, the chief, to try to save the old man's life, but I
saw it was in vain.
During the whole night I could hear singing all over the town as well
as a great uproar. Evidently they were preparing for the sacrifice of
the old man.
Early in the morning the people gathered together with the fetich-man.
His blood-shot eyes glared in savage excitement, as he went around
from man to man. In his hands he held a bundle of herbs with which he
sprinkled, three times, those to whom he spoke. Meantime, there was a
man on the top of a high tree close by, who shouted, from time to time,
"Jocou! Jocou!" at the same time shaking the trees.
"_Jocou_" means "devil" among the Mbousha; and the business of this man
was to scare the evil spirit, and keep it away.
At last they all declared that the old man was a most potent wizard,
that he had killed many people by sorcery, and that he must be killed.
You would like to know, I dare say, what these Africans mean by a
wizard, or a witch? They believe that people have, within themselves,
the power of killing anyone who displeases them. They believe that no
one dies unless some one has bewitched him. Have you ever heard of such
a horrible superstition? Hence those who are condemned for witchcraft
are sometimes subjected to a very painful death; they are burnt by slow
fire, and their bodies are given to the Bashikouay ant to be devoured.
I shall have something to tell you about ants by-and-by. The poor
wretches are cut into pieces; gashes are made over their bodies and
cayenne pepper is put into the wounds. Indeed it makes me shudder to
think of it, for I have witnessed such dreadful deaths, and seen many
of the mutilated corpses.
After I witnessed the ceremony, the people scattered, and I went into
my hut, for I was not well. After a while I thought I saw a man pass
my door, almost like a flash, and after him rushed a horde of silent
but infuriated men towards the river. In a little while, I heard sharp,
piercing cries, as of a man in great agony, and then all became still
as death.
I came out, and going towards the river was met by the crowd returning,
every man armed, with axe, spear, knife or cutlass; and these weapons,
as well as their own hands, and arms, and bodies were sprinkled with
blood.
They had killed the poor old man they called a wizard, hacked him to
pieces, and finished by splitting open his skull, and scattering the
brains into the water. Then they returned. At night these blood-thirsty
men seemed to be as gentle as lambs, and as cheerful as if nothing had
happened.
Ought we not to be thankful that we were born in a civilized country?
Now came the "grand palaver" over my departure. I called Dayoko and all
the elders of the village together. When they had all assembled, I told
them I must go into the Fan country inhabited by the cannibals.
Dayoko said I should be murdered by the cannibals, and eaten up, and
tried to dissuade me from going.
Finally I said that go I would.
So it was determined that I should go under Dayoko's protection.
Accordingly he gave me two of his sons to accompany me, and ordered
several men to carry my chests, guns, powder, bullets, and shot. They
were to take me to one of Dayoko's fathers-in-law, a Mbondemo chief who
lived in the mountains.
I was going farther and farther from the sea; if the savages were to
leave me and run away in the forest, what would become of me?
We started in canoes, ascended the Muni river, and then paddled up the
river called the Ntambounay (you must not mind these hard names, they
are not of my choice. I must call things by the names the natives give
them).
After paddling all day, towards sunset we all felt very tired; for we
had gone a long way up the river, and reached a Shekiani village. I was
quite astonished to meet Shekiani here, but so it happened.
I shall always remember this Shekiani village, for I thought I should
be murdered and plundered there. After we had landed in the village,
I was told at once, that I could not go any further, for the road
belonged to them. I must pay a tribute of six shirts similar to those
I wore, three great-coats, beads, etc., etc. This would have entirely
ruined me.
I could not sleep at all. Through the whole night a crowd surrounded my
hut, talking, shouting, and singing in the greatest excitement. My guns
and revolvers were all loaded and I made up my mind not to be killed
without fighting desperately. If I was to die, I resolved at all events
to die like a brave man. All my party were in my hut except Dayoko's
two sons, who had gone to talk with the Shekiani chief. The Shekiani
chief was a friend of Dayoko, and Dayoko's sons told him I was their
father's stranger-friend.
At last, things became more quiet; and, towards morning, the people
were still or asleep.
We left the hut. All was still peaceful. My men said that Dayoko's sons
had a big fetich to avert war.
I gave a present to the Shekiani chief, and off we started. We left our
large canoes and took smaller ones; for we were to go through a very
small stream.
As we ascended the beautiful river, we could see the lofty mountains
of the interior. A great many islands studded the stream. From the
trees on the banks, the monkeys looked down at us with astonishment.
What curious creatures they were, with their black faces peeping out
through the dark foliage, and looking as if they were making grimaces
at us. By-and-by we left the river and made our way along the creeks or
through the woods towards the Mbondemo village. Now and then we walked
freely through the wide openings which the elephants had made. The
rushing of a herd of elephants effects quite a clearing in the forest.
On we went, till finally we came to a place where a great number of
large trees had been prostrated. Wherever we looked, trees were lying
on the ground, many of them of enormous size. As I looked I heard, not
far off, a tremendous crash--a most awful noise. I could not conjecture
what was the matter. It turned out that a tree had come down; and as it
fell, being a huge one, it crushed a dozen others around it, and each
as it broke gave a great crash, so that the combined effect was awful
to hear.
We had to go through these fallen trees; and what tough work it was! I
never had seen anything like it. Now we had to climb on a fallen tree
and follow its trunk; then we had to come down, and were entangled in
its branches or in those of other trees. At other times we had to creep
under them. I was continually afraid that my gun would be fired off by
some creepers or boughs getting hold of the trigger.
At last, when my patience was entirely gone, and my few clothes
literally hanging in ribbons about me, my legs sadly wounded, and my
face and hands scratched, we arrived at the camp of the Mbondemos,
situated almost at the foot of the mountain.
These mountains were covered with an immense forest; and so thick were
the trees that no open view could be obtained in any direction. The
mountains ended somewhere in the interior, no one knew where, but this
they knew, that it was near the home of the Fans, a cannibal tribe,
and that elephants were plentiful, and gorillas were occasionally
seen there. This encampment of the Mbondemos was called an Olako.
There was not a house in the camp, and it was a romantic scene to look
at. Scattered under huge trees, on the edge of the woods, were leafy
shelters, opening towards the forest. Under these the people lived.
A few sticks put close together formed their beds. They contrived to
sleep upon them, and I did the same. I assure you that they were hard
enough, and reminded me that a mattress was a very good thing. Every
family had its fire prepared beside the beds; and around these fires in
the evening they clustered, men, women, and children.
The chief of this Mbondemo encampment was called Mbéné, and I liked him
very much. He was very kind to me, and always tried to furnish me with
food. There was scarcity of provisions, at the time, in the camp of the
Mbondemos. There were no plantain and cassada fields near, and often
I had to go without breakfast or dinner. The people lived chiefly on
the nuts of the forest, and at that season of the year these were very
scarce.
Poor Mbéné said they had very little to eat, but would give me what
they could. I had carried with me a few little crackers, which I found
very precious, more precious than gold, and which I reserved for time
of sickness; but one by one they disappeared. I looked at them every
time I took one; but I felt so hungry that I could not refrain from
eating them.
Have you known what hunger is--real craving hunger? I can assure you it
is a dreadful feeling.
During that time of the year, this people had half the time nothing to
eat but the nut of a kind of palm.
This nut was so bitter I could scarcely eat it. It is shaped like an
egg, with rounded ends. To prepare it for eating, it is divested of its
husk, and soaked in water for twenty-four hours, when it loses part of
its exceedingly bitter taste, and becomes tolerably palatable, that
is, to a starving man. Sometimes hunger will make them eat the nut
without soaking it. I have done so myself, when lost in the forest. It
is dreadfully disagreeable.
Now and then, the women succeeded in getting a few little fish in the
streams, and gave me some. I could bear a good deal, for I had firmly
resolved to go into the cannibal country.
These Mbondemos are continually moving their villages. Mbéné has moved
his village three times within a few years. I asked him why he made
these frequent changes. He said he moved the first time because a man
had died, and the place was "not good" after that event. The second
time he was forced to move because they had cut down all the palm
trees, and would get no more mimbo (palm wine), a beverage of which
they are excessively fond. They tap the palm, just as the maple tree is
tapped in America, only they tap the tree at the top. This palm wine
has somewhat of a milky colour; and, when drunk in great quantity, it
intoxicates. The palm trees are very plentiful all over this part of
the country, and it seems easier for them to move than to take care of
the trees surrounding their settlements, useful as they are to them;
for they furnish not only the wine they love, but the bitter nut I
mentioned before, which often keeps them from actual starvation. When
the tree is cut down they get what we call the palm cabbage which grows
at the top. When cooked this palm cabbage is very good.
A country which has plenty of palm trees, plenty of game, a good river
or rivulet, and plenty of fish, is the country for a Mbondemo settler
or squatter.
In these forests there is a vine or creeper which I might call the
traveller's vine. If thirsty you may cut it, and within less than a
minute a tumblerful of water will come out of it. This vine hangs
about in the forest, and seemed to me to grow without leaves. What a
capital thing it would be if water were not abundant in this country!
The water procured from it has hardly any taste, and is perfectly pure
and limpid.
Being unable to endure the continual hunger, I called Mbéné, and told
him that his place had no food to give, and he must take me to a
country where there was something to eat, and which would be on my way
to the Fan country. Good Mbéné said, "Spirit, I will try the best I can
to take you where you want to go. I will send some of my people with
you."
In the meantime, Dayoko's people had all returned to their village.
These forests had no game. I spent hour after hour scouring the forest,
but I could see nothing, except birds, some of which were extremely
pretty. I am afraid that if I had succeeded in killing a snake I should
have eaten it, as I felt desperately hungry. I did not like the bitter
nuts; so it was agreed that Mbéné's brother Mcomo, together with
several of his people, should accompany me as far as the country of the
Fan tribe. I could hardly believe such good news to be true.
Mbéné's wife always cooked my food. She was a dear good old woman, and
I gave her a fine necklace of beads when I left. She was delighted
with my present. They were big white porcelain beads of the size of a
pigeon's egg. One day Mbéné succeeded in getting a fowl for me. His
wife cooked it; she made soup, and put plenty of cayenne pepper into
it. I had also some plantain. How I enjoyed this meal! the more so that
it was probably the last I should get for a good many days, unless we
were unusually lucky, and should kill some antelopes or elephants on
our road to the Fan country.
Elephant meat is execrable, as you would say on tasting it. But as you
may not have the chance I will tell you by-and-by how it tastes.
As much food as possible was collected for our journey, and at last
everything was ready.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: KILLING THE SNAKE.
CHAP. VII.]
[Illustration]