NJALI-COUDIÉ.—AN AFRICAN TOWN.—THE CHIEF.—COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE IN
AFRICA.—BUYING A WIFE.—QUARREL OVER THE SPOILS.
Now, after many wanderings, I find myself in the very large village of
Bakalai called Njali-Coudié. Often I wonder that I have not been
murdered by these Bakalai, for they are very treacherous, and life seems
to them to be of no value.
The village of Njali-Coudié is situated in the very hilly country
between the Ofoubou and Ovenga Rivers. It was one of the largest Bakalai
villages I had ever seen. The people were wild; their houses were small,
very small indeed, and built with the bark of trees. It was surrounded
by large plantain groves and clusters of sugar-cane.
The name of the chief of that strange village was Mbango, and a fine
savage he was. His hair and his beard were white. Round his waist was a
piece of grass-cloth; by his side hung a tremendous war-knife; and on
each of his ankles he wore two tremendous iron rings. Round his neck he
wore some _monda_ fetich, which he thought could protect him from evil
spirits and from being bewitched. Round him hung some charmed powder,
preserved in the skin of a wild animal. Around his chest he wore a strip
of leopard’s skin, which his people believed could never be pierced by
spears or arrows. So we might say that King Mbango thought himself
invulnerable.
The people of the village were a hard set of quarrelsome-looking
fellows. The women were not beautiful, indeed they were very ugly; and
even King Mbango’s head-wife was far from being a belle. She was a tall
woman; her teeth were filed to a point; her hair was anointed profusely
with palm-oil; her face was all tattooed; and on each side of her cheek,
a little below the eye, there were two round spots of flesh of the size
of a quarter of a dollar. They had succeeded in raising the flesh, and
it must have required a good deal of skill. On her chest any amount of
fantastical tattooing could be seen; even her back was not free from
this ornamentation. Such is the faithful picture of Mbango’s head-wife,
whose name I have forgotten. She wore several brass anklets, and also
several bracelets. King Mbango had a score of wives besides her, but she
was the first woman he had married; hence she was the Queen—the foremost
of them all. When Mbango married a new wife, she gave her advice and
told her how she must love Mbango, how she must obey him, how
laboriously she must cultivate the soil in order to bring food to her
husband, and how she must often fish in order to feed her lord well. If
she does all this, the king will say, “This wife really loves me.” But
if she does not, beware! If she is lazy, the lash of whips made from the
hide of the hippopotamus, or of the manatee, will remind her of her
duties, and of the love she owes to her husband.
[Sidenote: _AN AFRICAN BETROTHAL._]
Do not think for a moment that women in that far-off country of which I
speak to you choose their husbands. Nothing of the sort! When a girl is
born among the Bakalai, while she is still a child she is often
betrothed, and now and then she goes to the village where her future
husband lives. Her mother or her father will take her there, and after a
while she comes back to her home, and this continues until she is
finally given away. As she grows older she visits her intended husband
less frequently, while he, on the other hand, comes oftener to the
village of her parents.
You will ask me how they get betrothed or engaged. No ring is given. The
man who comes to ask the girl comes first to talk the matter over. He
brings a few presents, say a goat or a few fowls, and a few jars of palm
wine, and places them at the feet of the girl’s father. Then he begins a
long rigmarole, and if he could he would go as far back as Adam. At
first he speaks at random, talking to somebody else all the time, for
they never speak directly to the person they address. Thus he goes on
for a couple of hours before he comes to the point. In the mean time the
presents are still lying before the father. The whole people of the
village are there listening, and approving or disapproving by grunts.
The man gets tremendously excited, and begins to halloo until he is
covered with perspiration. After he has finished there is a pause.
Somebody else gets up, and pleads sometimes for the suitor, and
sometimes in behalf of the villagers or relatives to whom the girl
belongs.
At last the father gets up, and he tries to play a shrewd game. He never
means what he says; he talks not to the suitor but to one that has come
with him, for it is the fashion here, as I have said, never to speak
directly to the person whom you wish to address. He seems astonished
that a man is bold enough to ask his beautiful daughter in marriage. He
sings her praises, generally pockets the presents, and says he will
think about it.
After this palaver the relations on the mother’s and the father’s side
are presented with the amount for which the girl is sold; and when the
final agreement has been made, the spoils are divided among the two
families.
This is the way girls are given in marriage in this part of the world.
Mbango had a beautiful girl, whom he seemed to love dearly, and she was
not betrothed. One day a fellow came from a neighboring village. He had
with him a slave to give to Mbango, several jars of palm wine, a goat,
some native tobacco coming from a country of the interior, called
Ashira, and he put all these things at the feet of Mbango, who was
seated on a stool and ready to hear him. After having talked a long
time, he presented his slave, his goat, and all the presents he had
brought with him to the King, and asked his daughter in marriage.
Old Mbango got up and pretended to be in a furious rage, but it was all
sham; he kicked and broke the jars of palm wine. How could a man come
and presume to offer him only one slave for his daughter, she who was
sought after by so many suitors? He could not believe his ears; and
Mbango went roaming about, brandishing his cane. In the mean time the
poor fellow had fled in dismay, leaving his slave, his goat, and all his
presents behind.
[Sidenote: _MBANGO GIVES HIS DAUGHTER IN MARRIAGE._]
Mbango’s pretended anger was a humbug. He wanted more presents, and
appeared highly indignant. So the next day the suitor came back, and
brought with him another slave he had kept in reserve, guessing that
King Mbango would not be satisfied with one. He knew well that it
required more than one in order to marry the daughter of a chief, and he
wanted to get his bride as cheap as he could. Mbango looked very stern.
How had he dared to come with one slave only? Did he think his daughter
was good for nothing?
Mbango was far more gentle. He took the other slave, and then said that
one more would settle the bargain—then he could take his bride with him.
The next day another slave came; the man swore that his uncle gave the
man to him, though I learned afterward that he had that third slave
ready, but that he thought that two slaves would do. The share of Mbango
for his daughter was two slaves, and that of the relatives of the mother
of the girl was one slave; and Mbango, wishing to appear generous, gave
them the goat. The relatives on the mother’s side of the girl tried to
get two slaves out of the three; it was a hard palaver, and lasted
several days, but Mbango was inexorable—he must have two slaves for his
share.
There was no ceremony. The man took his bride with him, and after a few
days she was to return to her father.
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]