XII

_SOUTH AFRICAN RELIGION_

The provisional hypothesis by which I try to explain the early stages

of religion may be stated in the words of a critic, Mr. Hartland.

'Apparently it is claimed that the belief in a supreme being came,

in some way only to be guessed at, first in order of evolution, and

was subsequently obscured and overlaid by belief in ghosts and in a

pantheon of lesser divinities.'[1] I was led to these conclusions,

first, by observing the reports of belief in a relatively supreme

being and maker among tribes who do not worship ancestral spirits

(Australians and Andamanese), and, secondly, by remarking the otiose

unworshipped supreme being, often credited with the charge of future

rewards and punishments, among polytheistic and ancestor-worshipping

people too numerous for detailed mention. The supreme being among

these races, in some instances a mere shadow of a children's tale, I

conjectured to be a vague survival of such a thing as the Andamanese

Puluga, or the Australian Baiame.

Granting the validity of the evidence, the hypothesis appears to

colligate the facts. There is a creative being (not a spirit, merely

a being) before ghosts are worshipped. Where ghosts are worshipped,

and the spiritual deities of polytheism have been developed, and are

adored, there is still the unworshipped maker, in various degrees of

repose and neglect. That the belief in him 'came in some way, only to

be guessed at,' is true enough. But if I am to have an hypothesis like

my neighbours, I have suggested that early man, looking for an origin

of things, easily adopted the idea of a maker, usually an unborn man,

who was before death, and still exists. Bound this being crystallised

affection, fear, and sense of duty; he sanctions morality and early

man's remarkable resistance to the cosmic tendency: his notion of

unselfishness. That man should so early conceive a maker and father

seems to me very probable; to my critics it is a difficulty. But one

of Dr. Callaway's native informants remarks: 'When we asked "By what

was the sun made?" they said "By Umvelinqangi." For we used to ask when

we were little, thinking that the old men knew all things.'[2] What a

savage child naturally asks about, his yet more savage ancestors may

have pondered. No speculation seems more inevitable.

As soon as man was a reasoning being he must have wondered about

origins; he has usually two answers: creation, complete or partial,

and evolution. Like Topsy 'he 'specs things growed,' when he does

not guess that things were made by somebody. As far as totemism is

religious, it accepts the answer of evolution, men were evolved out of

lower types, beasts and plants, their totems. But these are not always

treated with _religious_ reverence, as sometimes are such creative

beings and fathers as Baiame. In many cases, as I have kept on saying,

the savage creative being has a deputy, often a demiurge, who exercises

authority. Where this is the case, and where ancestor-worship is the

working religion, the deputy easily comes to be envisaged as the first

man, unborn of human parents, maker of things, or of many things, and

culture hero. Mr. Tylor says: 'In the mythology of Kamchatka the

relation between the Creator and the first man is one not of identity,

but of parentage.' It is clear that, in proportion to the exclusive

prevalence of ancestor-worship as a working religion, the idea of the

Creator might be worn away, and the first man might be identified with

him. It would not follow that the idea of creation was totally lost.

The first man might be credited with the feat of creation. Mr. Tylor

observes that 'by these consistent manes-worshippers, the Zulus, the

first man, Unkulunkulu, is identified with the Creator.'[3]

Mr. Tylor's statement, of course, involves the opinion that the idea

of creation is present to the Zulu mind. Unkulunkulu made things, as

Baiame, and Puluga, and other beings did. Like them he is no spirit,

but a magnified non-natural man. Unlike them, he is subject to the

competition of ancestral ghosts, the more recent the better, in receipt

of prayer and sacrifice. Having no special house which claims him as

ancestor, and being very remote, he is now believed by many Zulus to be

dead. His name is a fable, like that of Atahocan, a thing to amuse or

put off children with; they are told to call on Unkulunkulu when their

parents want to send them out of the way.

All this is exactly what my theory would lead me to anticipate, if

the Zulus had once possessed the idea of an unworshipped creative

being, and had lost it under the competition of worshipped, near akin,

and serviceable ghosts. Their ancestral character would be reflected

on him. It is just as if the Australian Kurnai were to take to

ancestor-worship, glorify Tundun, the son and deputy of Mungan-ngaur;

neglect Mungan-ngaur, look on Tundun as the creator, and finally

neglect _him_ in favour of ancestral spirits less remote, and more

closely akin to themselves. This process is very readily conceivable,

and, from our point of view, it would look like degeneration in

religion, under stress of a new religious motive, the _do ut des_ of

sacrifice to ancestral ghosts. That Unkulunkulu should come to be

thought dead is the less surprising, as a Zulu in bad luck will be so

blasphemous as to declare that the ancestral spirits of his worship

are themselves dead. 'When we sacrifice to them, and pray that a

certain disease may cease, and it does not cease, then we begin to

quarrel with them, and to deny their existence. And the man who has

sacrificed exclaims: "There are no Amadhlozi; although others say there

are, but for my part I say that the Amadhlozi of our house died for

ever."'[4]....

Thus I can easily suppose that the Zulus once had an idea of a creative

being; that they reduced him, on the lines described, to a first man;

that they neglected him in favour of serviceable ghosts; and that they

now think him extinct; like the ghosts themselves when they cease to be

serviceable.

Mr. Hartland's theory is the reverse of mine. He says: 'In fact, so

far as can be gathered, the very idea of creation was foreign to their

minds.' ... 'The earth was in existence first, before Unkulunkulu as

yet existed.'[5] But heaven, and the sun, and all things were not in

existence before Unkulunkulu: he made them, according to other native

witnesses, and Dr. Callaway, in his first page, says that the Zulus

regard Unkulunkulu as the Creator.

The evidence, as Mr. Hartland urges with truth, is 'contradictory.'

But its contradictions contradict his statement that 'the very idea

of creation was foreign to their minds.' Many witnesses attest the

existence in the Zulu mind of the idea of creation.

'It was said at first, before the arrival of missionaries, if we asked,

"By what were the stones made?" "They were made by Umvelinqangi."' 'The

ancients used to say, before the arrival of the missionaries, that

all things were made by Umvelinqangi; but they were not acquainted

with his name.' 'The natives,' says Dr. Callaway, 'cannot tell you his

_name_, except it be Umvelinqangi.'[6] 'The sun and moon we referred

to Unkulunkulu, together with all the things in this world, and

yonder heaven we referred to Unkulunkulu.... We said all was made by

Unkulunkulu.'[7] 'At first we saw that they were made by Unkulunkulu,

but ... we worshipped those whom we had seen with our eyes' (the

ghosts of their fathers), 'so then we began to ask all things of the

Amadhlozi.' This convenient Zulu, Umpengula Mbanda, states my very

hypothesis.[8] But he seems to have been a Christian convert, and

probably constructed his theory after he heard of the Christian God.

'We seek out the Amadhlozi that we may not be always thinking about

Unkulunkulu.' So spiritualists are more interested in ghosts than in

the Christian God. 'In process of time we have come to worship the

Amadhlozi only, because we knew not what to say about Unkulunkulu,'

just as the spiritualist 'knows what to say' about his aunt, who speaks

to him through the celebrated Mrs. Piper.[9]

Dr. Callaway consulted a very old Zulu, Ukoto, whose aunt was the

mother of King Chaka (Utshaka). Mr. Rider Haggard dates Chaka

about 1813-1828. With him began seventy years of Zulu conquest and

revolution, in which old ideas might be obliterated. Ukoto answered

Dr. Callaway's inquiries thus: 'When we were children it was said the

Lord is in heaven.... We heard it said that the Creator of the world

(Umdabuko) is the Lord which is above. When I was growing up, it used

to be said the Creator of the world is above.'[10]

So far we must either reject most respectable evidence, going back

to the earliest years of last century, before the Zulu period of

revolution, or dismiss Mr. Hartland's opinion that the very idea of

creation is foreign to the Zulu mind. A very old woman, whose childhood

was prior to Chaka's initiation of the revolutionary period of conquest

(1813), being interrogated by the Zulu, Umpengula, said that 'when we

asked of the origin of corn, the old people said "it came from the

Creator who created all things. But we do not know him." The old people

said 'the Creator of all things is in heaven.'[11] The old woman then

abounded in contradictions. She said that Unkulunkulu was the Creator

in heaven, but only the day before she had denied this. Dr. Callaway

thought not that her mind was wandering, but that 'there appears in

this account to be rather the intermixture of several faiths, which

might have met and contended or amalgamated at the time to which she

alludes'--the early days of Chaka--' 1. Primitive faith in a heavenly

Lord or Creator. 2. The ancestor-worshipping faith, which confounds the

Creator with the first man. 3. The Christian faith, again directing the

attention of the natives to a God who is not anthropomorphic' She might

also, in a part of her tale, allude to the fabled ascension of the

father of King Chaka prior to 1813.

From my point of view, Dr. Callaway's theory seems possible. The

memories and ideas of people who were 'ancient,' when Chaka and this

old woman were young, before the Zulus entered on a 'wolf age, a war

age,' went far back into the Zulu past, when their belief may have been

nearer to that kind of savage deism which Waitz regards as unborrowed

and indigenous to Africa.[12] Another very old man, Ubebe, who had

fought against Chaka, said: 'As to the source of being' (_Umdabuko_),

'I know only that which is in heaven. The ancient men said _Umdakuko_

is above ... for the Lord gives them life.' _Umdabuko_, source of

life, may be 'local or personal, the place in which man was created,

or the person who created him.' ... Here the Umdabuko is called 'the

lord which gives them life.'[13] Here, too, the evidence is of Zulu

antiquity, the words of the ancients of Chaka's time. The use of the

same name for a person and a place is familiar to us in 'Zeus' and

'Hades,' and we use 'Heaven' ourselves for God, as in 'the will of

Heaven.' The old man uses Umdabuko as a personal name; elsewhere it is

equivalent to Uthlanga, the impersonal metaphysical source of being,

_not_ identical with _Um_H_langa_, 'a bed of reeds,' from which mankind

arose in Zulu myth. 'Um_h_langa is the place where they broke off, or

out came, from U_h_langa.'[14]

Old Ubebe said to Umpengula: 'Do you not understand that we said

Unkulunkulu made all things that we see or touch.' And Unkulunkulu, he

added, was a man, and now a dead man; then he considered, and added:

'It is evident that all things were not made by a man who is dead;

they were made by one who now is.' He began with the creator vouched

for by the other old people; he relapsed into the confusion of him

with the first man, and either reverted to the original idea, or to

a natural reflection of his own. Dr. Callaway found Ubebe declaring

that tradition averred the maker to have been a man, but that the

missionaries averred the Creator to be 'the heavenly Lord.' 'The old

men said that Unkulunkulu was an ancestor and nothing more, an ancient

man who begat men, and gave origin to all things.'[15] In fact the

primal being of lower savages, Andamanese and Australians, _is_ a

man, without human limitations, and creative. My hypothesis, like

Dr. Callaway's, is that Ubebe and the rest wandered between three

faiths: a faith analogous to that of the Andamanese and Australians;

that faith modified by ancestor-worship carried to a great pitch--the

creator being identified with the first man, and the doctrine of the

missionaries. It is no wonder that these ancients are confused, but

perhaps my hypothesis, which is Dr. Callaway's, so far, helps to

explain their contradictions. 'They talk of Providence, but I reckon

there is One above he,' said the British agriculturist, quite as

confused as Ubebe.

Dr. Callaway interrogated another very old man, Ulangeni. He denied

that Utikxo, his name for God, was a Hottentot word, introduced by

missionaries, misled by what Dr. Callaway thinks their erroneous idea

that the Hottentot Utikxo represented a lofty and refined theistic

belief. Ulangeni utterly rejected with extreme contempt the idea that

his tribe borrowed Utikxo from a people broken and contaminated by the

Dutch.[16] 'We have learnt nothing of them.' In Ulangeni's opinion,

Utikxo created Unkulunkulu, but, being invisible, was disregarded

in favour of his visible deputy, as Mungan-ngaur might come to be

disregarded in favour of Tundun. 'And so they said Unkulunkulu was

God.' I am grateful to Ulangeni for again anticipating my humble

theory. He gave a humorous account of the arrival of the first

missionary, Unyegana (Gardiner?), of his 'jabbering,' of his promise

to give news of Utikxo, and of the controversies of Zulu theologians.

A native convert won the day and composed a hymn: all this is recorded

by Umpengula. With all respect for Ulangeni, he appears to have been in

the wrong about Utikxo. Kolb (1729) gives Gounja Ticquoa (Utikxo) as

the Hottentot word for a supreme deity; but, if Dr. Callaway is right,

Kolb was in error.

'Nothing is more easy than to inquire of heathen savages the nature of

their creed, and during the conversation to impart to them great truths

and ideas which they never heard before, and presently to have these

come back to one as articles of their own original faith....'[17]

But Kolb's Hottentots, as Dr. Callaway notes, say that Ticquoa 'is a

good _man_' They did not get that from Kolb, or any missionary: as I

have said it is the regular preanimistic savage theory, as in Australia

and the Andaman Isles. Later investigations down to Hahn tell us of

Tsui Goab, 'wounded knee,' a Hottentot being who is only an idealised

medicine-man. Shaw says that 'the _older_ Kaffirs used to speak of

Umdali, the Creator;' but Moffat found no trace of anything higher

than Morimo, another mythical first ancestor, who came out of the

earth. Livingstone asserts just the reverse. 'There is no necessity

for beginning to tell even the most degraded of these people of the

existence of God, or of a future state, the facts being universally

admitted.'[18] As to the Bechuana Morimo, Mr. Hartland gives the

etymology of his name: it is said to be derived from _gorimo_, above,

with the singular prefix _mo_. It would thus mean 'Him who is above.'

But why, then, did Morimo come out of a hole in the earth? Was he once

'He who is above,' and was he confused with the first man? The plural,

_Barimo,_ seems to mean the spirits of the dead. Molsino, _teste_

Cassilis, is used for an ancestral ghost. Mr. Hartland is 'inclined to

regard Morimo not as a once supreme deity fading away, but as a god in

process of becoming.'[19] I feel that I have no grounds whereon to base

even a conjecture.

A curious piece of evidence by Dr. Callaway is given in a note not in

his book. One Zulu account is that Unkulunkulu was created by Utikxo.

Now Unkulunkulu was visible, Utikxo was invisible, and so was more

prominent and popular.'[20] Thus regarded, Unkulunkulu is the demiurge

and deputy of Utikxo, as sometimes are Daramulun, Tundun, Hobamok,

Okee, Bobowissi, the deputies of Baiame, Mungan-ngaur, Kiehtan, Ahone,

Nyankupon, and so on. The idea is usual in savage theologies. Now Dr.

Callaway cites the evidence of another Zulu: I We had this word before

the missionaries came; we had God (Utikxo) long ago; for a man when

dying would utter his last words, saying, "I am going home; I am going

up on high." For there is a word in a song which says:

Guide me, O Hawk!

That I may go heavenward,

To seek the one-hearted man,

Away from double-hearted men,

Who deal in blessing and cursing.

We see, then, that those people used to speak of a matter of the

present time, which we clearly understand by the word which the

missionaries teach us.... So we say there is no God' (no new God) 'who

has just come to us.' Dr. Callaway explains: 'That God of whom the

missionaries speak is not a new God, but the same God of whom we spoke

by the terms Ukqamata and Utikxo.'[21]

Dr. Callaway could not produce this testimony, or translate it, owing

to the archaisms and allusions demanding familiarity with ancient Zulu

songs, till he got the aid of a Kxosa Kaffir.

I am apt to regard the archaic character of the piece as fairly good

proof of genuine antiquity. If the testimony is accepted, it settles

the question in my sense. The Zulu religion, in its higher elements,

was a waning religion Utikxo was, 'with his one foot in the grave,'

like John Knox; he was not, as by Mr. Hartland's theory, a god in the

making. Old hymns are our best authorities, and the hymn proves a

belief in a future far nobler than the transfiguration of Zulu souls

into serpents. A deity is also attested by the witness. But from the

use of the word Utikxo by this witness, he may be speaking of ideas

borrowed by Hottentots from the Dutch, and by Kaffirs from Hottentots.

Another odd example occurs elsewhere. Mr. Frazer quotes the King of

Sofala, or of Quiteva, or 'The Quiteva.'[22] This king ranks with the

deity; in fact, 'the Caffres acknowledge no other gods than their

monarch,' says Dos Santos. But Mr. Frazer omits the circumstance that

the same author adds: 'They acknowledge a God who both in this world

and the world to come they fancy measures retribution for the good and

evil done in this.... Though convinced of the existence of a deity they

neither adore nor pray to him.'[23] Here we have a belief in a future

life and a god (Molunga) analogous to that revealed in the archaic

Zulu hymn. But Dos Santos only recognised as god a god who receives

prayer and adoration; hence he says that the Kaffirs have no gods, and

also that they 'acknowledge a god'--unworshipped. The name of that god,

Molunga, is the same, I presume, as Mulungu, who now, 'in the world

beyond the grave, is represented as assigning to spirits their proper

places.'[24]

To myself, then, Zulu religion, now almost exclusively

ancestor-worship, does seem to contain a broken and almost obliterated

element of belief in a high unworshipped god, presiding over a future

life. Obviously archaic hymns are better evidence, with their native

interpretation, than the contradictory statements of individual Zulus,

who speak dubiously of what the fathers used to say. The analogy

between the Utikxo and Mulungu belief also counts as corroboration,

while the unworshipped supreme being, with a deputy or deputies

(Utikxo--Unkulunkulu), is a pervading feature of savage religion. If

philology could throw any certain light on the meanings of names like

Mulungu, and so forth, more sure ground might be reached. Again, when

the name of a relatively supreme being may be regarded as a plural,

like _Elohim_, the inference may be that many ancestral spirits are

being blended, or have been blended, into one being. The case of the

Mura Mura of the Australian Dieri has met us already, in the essay on

'Magic and Religion.' Is it a case of 'They' or 'He?' 'Mulungu= God,'

a native told Mr. Clement Scott; 'you can't put the plural, as God is

One.' 'Spirits are spirits of people who have died' (_Mzima_), 'not

gods.' On the other hand, Mr. Macdonald learned that 'people who have

died become Mulungu.' Yet he is also regarded as a separate and supreme

being, who assigns their places to the spirits of the dead. His very

name is variously interpreted as 'sky' or 'ancestor.'

We may argue that Mulungu is primal, and that the spirits of the dead,

_Mzima_, are only 'the people of Mulungu,' who was, in the myth, prior

to death. Or we may argue that many Mzima have been combined in a later

conception of Mulungu as a single being. Such beings do occur, it is

certain, where spirits of the dead are held of no account in religion.

I fear that, in the condition of the evidence, students will take sides

in accordance with their bias: at least both parties will think that

their opponents do so. I have observed that many writers appear only to

be aware of the existence of the religious bias, which denotes lack of

humour.

As to Utikxo, Mr. Beiderbecke, like Dr. Callaway, thinks that Kaffirs,

living near Hottentots, borrowed their name for god, Tixo (Utikxo), and

dropped Unkulunkulu. Among the Ovaherero, in a region 'which had not

yet been under the influence of civilisation and Christianity' (1873),

Mr. Beiderbecke found that a god called Karunga was believed in. 'Look

at our oxen and sheep: is it not Karunga who has made us so rich,' as

Jehovah made the Israelites? Mukuru was used by believers in Kuringa

as the name for the missionaries' God. Mukuru 'is in Otyihereró _the_

name for god.' The derivation is unknown, but Omurunga, the sacred

fan-palm tree, must be derived from Omuru, not Omuru from Omurunga. The

Otyihereró word for spirit differs from both: it is _Otyimbosi_. As a

god, Karunga seems to have no sacrifices: these are made to ancestral

spirits. Karunga does not appear to be offended by sin, but this seems

merely to be inferred from his receiving no atonement, as the spirits

do. When people are dying they say 'Karunga has bid them come.' Traces

of him as a creator are very dubious, but rain, thunder, and so on come

from him, as proverbial sayings prove, and he is prayed to in time of

danger--the prayers may be post-Christian. The Omuambo creation tale,

or one of the tales, makes Kalunga, like Morimo, come out of the earth,

and create men and women. He is no ghost. 'They also had ghosts,' the

witness said, I but Kalunga was quite a distinct and unique being.'[25]

My bias in favour of my own theory is unconcealed, but I conceive that

South African belief in a god, 'a unique being,' indicates itself in

Mr. Beiderbecke's evidence.

There are different words for this being and for ghosts and spirits;

though in other cases philology finds cognate African words for both.

Dr. Callaway concludes: 'It appears that in the native mind there is

scarcely any idea of deity, if any at all, wrapped up in their sayings

about a heavenly chief. When it is applied to God it is simply the

result of teaching. Among themselves he is not regarded as the Creator,

nor as the preserver of men; but as a power, it may be nothing more

than an earthly chief, still celebrated by name--a relic of the king

worship of the Egyptians; another form of ancestor-worship'--only he

is _not_ worshipped![26] Dr. Callaway, a most impartial inquirer, has

given several cases of very old Zulus, who in childhood heard from

their elders about a creator, a creative lord. But this excellent

collector had just a trifle of most justifiable bias. He was arguing to

prove that Unkulunkulu, Uthlanga, Utikxo, and the rest were not safe

equivalents to be used by missionaries for God. And they were not safe

equivalents. Umpengula argued that point to perfection. Unkulunkulu,

he said, was a name to deceive children with; you must not come to us

with a new great god, and call him by the name of a being whom every

adult Zulu despises.[27] But that the name was despised, say in 1860,

by 'convinced manes-worshippers,' by no means proves the non-existence

of a higher belief in the past. Mr. Ridley deemed Baiame a fit name for

the Christian God: probably it was imprudent to employ it in teaching

natives.

Urged by his justifiable objection to the use of native names to

indicate the Christian God, Dr. Callaway, in the conclusion just

quoted, forgot, or had abandoned, his opinion that the evidence of old

Zulus represented a blending of beliefs, beginning with 'a primitive

faith in a heavenly Lord or Creator.'[28] I entirely go with his

conclusion that the natives at large, of his generation, did not regard

'the heavenly chief as the Creator or preserver of men,' and that

'they had scarcely any notion of deity at all.' But, on the evidence

collected from very old people by Dr. Callaway, I feel disposed to

think it probable enough that, under stress of military life, conquest,

and ancestor-worship, the Zulus may have forgotten and almost

obliterated the higher belief which the old men had heard of in their

infancy. If so, the Zulus fall into the general line of my argument.

Their faint traditions (as in the case of Atahocan) have dwindled to

children's tales. They are not the 'theoplasm' of a god who was in

course of becoming. But, of course, it may be argued that these faint

rudiments came in, with Utikxo, through the Hottentots, who picked them

up in conversation with the Dutch. This process, however, does not

apply to the belief in superior beings, carefully concealed from the

native women, the children, and the Europeans, by the Australians. Nor

does it apply to the American Kiehtan, Ahone, Andouagni, Atahocan, and

many others. Such are the hesitating conclusions which I venture to

draw from what we are told about religion among the peoples of South

Africa. In favour of my theory is the fact that the oldest evidence,

that of persons born before the genius of Chaka revolutionised Zulu

life, agrees with what I expect to find, a creative tradition.

The success of either of the competing theories--that which sees

elements of a high religion among low savages, and that which denies

the existence of these elements--does not appear to me to affect our

ideas about 'the truth of religion.' Each theory regards religion as

a thing evolved by mankind in accordance with their essential nature.

The only question is as to the sequence of stages of evolution. Suppose

that the beginning of religion was (as in my hypothesis) regard for a

maker and father, who was credited with sanctioning morality, and, in

some cases, with rewarding or punishing the good or bad in a future

life. These ideas occur in modern religion. But the circumstance

that they also occurred in primitive religion would not prove modern

religion to be 'true.' It would only prove that the men who evolved

primitive religion were really human: very like their descendants. Why

not? They did not produce the higher ideas pure: or at least, as we

find them, they are always contaminated, soften overlaid, by myths of

every degree of absurdity and viciousness. But it is to be observed

that the faith of primitive man, as far as it is represented by the

evidence which I offer as to very backward man, had not some of the

worst elements of the creeds of more advanced races. Sacrifices there

were none. But when agriculture arose, it brought with it hecatombs

of human sacrifices, especially if we agree with Mr. Frazer's theory

stated in 'The Golden Bough.' So far it cannot be doubted that, as

man advanced in social progress, he became more deeply stained with

religious cruelty. In similar fashion the religion of peace and

goodwill came to be accompanied, thanks to the nature of mankind, by

religious cruelties as barbarous as those of the Aztecs. _Tantæ molis

erat_: so hard has it been to elevate the race in any one direction

without introducing new depressions in other directions.

[1] _Folk Lore_, March 1901, p. 21. Presidential address.

[2] Callaway, _Religion of the Amazulu_, p. 10 1868.

[3] _Primitive Culture_, ii. pp. 312, 313, 1873.

[4] Callaway, p. 29.

[5] Callaway, p. 41; _Folk Lore, ut supra_, p. 23.

[6] Callaway, p. 10, note 25.

[7] _Ibid._ p. 21.

[8] _Ibid_. p. 17.

[9] _Ibid._ pp. 26, 27.

[10] _Umdabuko_ is derived from _ukadabuka_, to be broken off, a word

implying the pre-existence of something from which the division took

place. Callaway, i. note 3, 50, note 95. It is usually a vaguely

metaphysical term.

[11] Callaway, pp. 52, 53.

[12] Waitz, _Anthropologie_, i. 167.

[13] _Ibid._ p. 59, and note 12.

[14] _Ibid_. 61, and note 17, 9, and note 22.

[15] Callaway, 63, and note 23.

[16] _Ibid._ p. 65.

[17] Waitz, _Anthropologie_, pp. 105, 106.

[18] _Missionary Travels_, p. 158.

[19] _Folk Lore_, March 1901, pp. 26, 27.

[20] Callaway, _Rel. of Amazulu_, p. 67.

[21] _Folk Lore Journal_, South Africa, ii. iv. 1880, p. 59, _et seq._

[22] _Golden Bough_, i. 155; ii. 10. Dos Santos, in Pinkerton, xvi.

682-687, _et seq._

[23] Dos Santos; in Pinkerton, xvi. 687. He confuses Quiteva, the

country, and the king, the Quiteva. Cf. supra, p. 97 note 3.

[24] Macdonald, _Africana_, i. 66, 67. For etymological guesses, and

the application of _Mulungu_ (as of _Barimo_) to ancestral spirits, and

the statement that 'all things in the world were made by Mulungu,' who

was prior to death, see _Africana_, and Mr. Clement Scott's _Dictionary

of the Mang'anja Language in British Central Africa_, and _Making of

Religion_, pp. 232-238.

[25] Beiderbecke, _F. L. Journal_, South Africa, iv. v. 88-97.

[26] Callaway, p. 124.

[27] Callaway, pp. 74-76.

[28] Callaway, p. 55, note 4.

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