AT THE COURT OF AN AFRICAN KING
We spent a few days at Idanga awaiting the arrival of a steamer going
down-river to carry us to Bolombo, whence we were to start upon our
march to the capital of the Bushongo nation. During the greater part of
our stay the Kasai Company’s agent was absent, visiting the villages in
the interior behind the forest which borders the Sankuru, and which at
Idanga is a comparatively narrow strip of woodland on the left bank of
the river; we therefore encamped in his factory garden, and occupied our
time in labelling and packing curios, writing up notes upon the forest
tribes, and resting after our weary marches in the forest. Idanga has its
drawbacks, for there is little to be done there either by the naturalist
or the ethnologist, and the mosquitos and tsetse-flies are more numerous
than is pleasant; but after a stay in the forest one can sit all day and
gaze with enjoyment at the view, extensive compared with any obtainable
in the woods, over the fine broad reach of the Sankuru, at the time of
our visit much broken by sandbanks, for the dry season was now fast
drawing to its close and the water was at its lowest. Upon the sandbanks
numberless temporary huts had been erected by the local Bushongo, who
could be seen from the factory busily employed all day long at making
and setting fish-traps, by means of which they caught a lot of large
fish, always bringing the best of them for sale to us. One day we hired
a canoe from the fishermen and went down-stream to Bena Dibele to call
upon the Italian cavalry officer who had recently taken over the command
of the post, and to bring away the baggage we had left there upon setting
out into the forest. We found Lieutenant Morretti’s civilian assistant
in a very bad state of health. There was, I think, little really the
matter with him, but he had allowed the gloom of the surrounding forest
to get upon his nerves to such an extent that he could talk of nothing
but death, and mistook a small piece of metal lying on the ground for
the number-plate of his coffin! He was eventually moved to rather more
cheerful surroundings, and, I believe, quite recovered his mental
equilibrium. In the forest it is absolutely necessary to force oneself
to look at the bright side of everything; if once one allows oneself to
become pessimistic one is pretty sure to break down in health; and the
bright side of life in the forest is not always easy to find.
While we were calling at Dibele a Government steamer came down the
river having on board Captain the Hon. W. G. Thesiger, D.S.O., then his
Majesty’s consul at Boma. This gentleman had just completed a tour of
some few months’ duration over a large area of the southern Congo, in the
course of which he had paid a brief visit to the capital of the Bushongo
people and made the acquaintance of their king. Captain Thesiger informed
us that he had seen many beautiful wood-carvings, chief among which were
the portrait statues of the two old-time national heroes, which were
apparently regarded with the greatest reverence by the king and the
people. We had heard of the existence of these statues during our stay at
Misumba, but up to now had been doubtful if we should be allowed to see
them. Captain Thesiger reassured us on this point, but seemed to think
that there would be no chance of our being able to purchase one for the
Museum; we dared not hope so much ourselves; but I shall have more to say
about these statues later. Captain Thesiger gave us another interesting
piece of information: he had recently visited Kanda Kanda, a Government
station about one hundred and sixty miles to the south-east of Luebo, and
had there found that lions had just appeared in the neighbourhood. From
what we are able to gather, lions are unknown north of this district;
although I have seen it stated that the Sankuru was their northern limit,
I was not able to obtain any evidence to show that they have been found
so far north as the middle course of that river. It has been rumoured
that a lion was killed near the confluence of the Kwango and the Kasai
some few years back, but I believe the rumour is generally discredited.
Around Kanda Kanda the country is better supplied with game than the
districts we visited, but even there the newly arrived lions had taken
to man-eating to such an extent as to cause a panic in the villages. As
soon as we had packed our curios at Idanga we were ready to start for the
Mushenge, so the Kasai Company’s steamer found us waiting to go on board
with as little delay as possible when it descended the river on its way
from Batempa to Dima. The voyage passed off without incident, excepting
that one night during a tornado, our camp on the shore was very nearly
set on fire by sparks driven by the wind from the fires of the crew;
only the dampness saved our tents from catching fire. In the matter of
fires one’s “boys” are usually extremely careless, making them in the
most dangerous places, and one has to be constantly on the look-out for
accidents arising from the placing of a candle too close to the sloping
roof of one’s tent, or some other equally foolish and avoidable cause.
It seems remarkable that natives whose habitations are very inflammable
should be so careless, but it is a fact.
At Bolombo we stayed for a few days awaiting the arrival of an answer
from the king of the Bushongo, to whom we sent a message informing him
of our desire to visit his capital, and inquiring if he would send
porters to carry our loads from the river. In due course a number of men
arrived, under the leadership of one of the Nyimi’s (this is the title
of the king) courtiers, who told us that his master had heard of our
visit to the eastern part of his territory, and had expected to see us
earlier at his capital; now that we were coming he would be pleased to
welcome us. We noticed one or two differences, even among the porters
who came to carry our baggage, between the Bangongo of the Lubudi River
and the natives from the country around the Mushenge. Whereas at Misumba
only the elders wore little conical caps of plaited grass upon their
top-knots, this head-gear seemed to be quite commonly worn by the people
of Mushenge, and we looked in vain for signs of the lavish application
of tukula dye to the person and loin-cloths which is so noticeable
at Misumba; moreover, most of the men who came to carry for us wore
European cotton around their waists. We crossed the Sankuru in a large
dug-out as soon as all our baggage had been transported over the river.
We had not very much with us, for our stock of provisions was well-nigh
at an end, and we were relying upon receiving from Luebo many cases of
stores which should have been there since the beginning of the year
awaiting our arrival. Also we carried with us very little in the way of
trade goods, for we knew that there was a factory near the Mushenge where
we could purchase such articles as would be most readily accepted by the
natives. The country between the Sankuru and the Mushenge is hilly. The
belt of forest that borders the river is only about six miles wide, and
gives place to grass land, fairly thickly studded with small trees in
which extensive patches of woodland are very numerous. Near to the angle
formed by the confluence of the Sankuru and the Kasai the forest belts
of both these rivers meet, and the country is therefore densely wooded.
As one goes on southward towards the Mushenge the plains become more
extensive and less studded with trees until one reaches a high grassy
plateau about twenty miles south of the Sankuru which forms the watershed
between that river and the Luchwadi (marked Lotjadi on the accompanying
map), a stream that flows westwards into the Kasai. The distance from
Bolombo to the Mushenge is only about thirty miles, in a direct line,
but we marched by easy stages in order to see something of the villages
we passed through, and did not arrive at the capital until the fifth
day after our start from the Sankuru. The villages in this part of the
country disappointed us very much after becoming accustomed to associate
the Bushongo with such beautiful villages as Misumba. In place of the
neatly decorated houses which we had admired so much among the Bangongo
we found dwellings of a similar design, but built simply of palm leaves,
with no attempt at ornamentation, and little or none of the regularity
with which the villages of the eastern Bushongo are laid out. The places
were often very pretty, with their huts dotted about under the shade of
fine old raphia or elais palms, but the beauty was the beauty of nature,
and showed little of the artistic tendencies which we knew the natives
must possess. We subsequently learned that the people of the eastern
part of the Bushongo territory are famous for the skill with which they
build and decorate their houses, and that we must not set up Misumba as
a standard whereby to judge all the Bushongo villages. At the entrance
to one hamlet we came across a quaint “charm” overhanging the road.
This consisted of a square piece of wickerwork, suspended from a pole,
which had been literally riddled with arrows, many of which were still
sticking in it. At another place we found a very old elephant’s tusk, of
considerable size, firmly planted point downwards in the ground under
a shelter in the village street. We learned that it was formerly the
custom when the great king paid a State visit to the villages to plant
an elephant’s tusk in such a manner that he could lean back upon it when
sitting upon his throne; the tusks so placed were never removed, but were
left sticking in the ground as a souvenir to the villagers of the visit
of their king. The tusk we saw was so weather-worn that a small piece of
it which I brought away has not been recognised as ivory by any one to
whom I have shown it. I ought, perhaps, to say that this souvenir of a
former king is not regarded with respect by the villagers or I should,
of course, not have touched it, much less removed a piece from inside
its cavity; we were always most careful to avoid hurting the natives’
feelings by treating with contempt anything they might possibly consider
sacred, for had we done so we could not have expected to gain their
confidence and learn anything of their customs and beliefs. A negro is
very unlikely to tell you any legend or piece of tribal history if he
thinks there is any chance of your disbelieving or laughing at it.
Buffaloes are to be found in the country between the Mushenge and the
Sankuru, and we came across the fresh tracks of one or two small herds,
but we did not make any serious attempt to hunt them, as I intended to
take a short trip in search of sport after we had settled down at the
capital. Upon the fifth day we were ferried in small canoes across the
lagoons around the stream of the Luchwadi, the boats winding in and out
amidst a tangle of the most glorious vegetation, and thence walked the
remaining five miles or so to the Mushenge. Leaving the mission station
of the Pères de Scheut about half a mile to the left of the main road, we
ascended the steep slope to the crest of the hill on which the capital
stands and found ourselves almost unexpectedly in the village, which we
had not seen until we entered it. There were no signs of any extensive
cultivation by the roadside which would have indicated that we were
approaching a large native settlement.
Upon our arrival we were conducted at once towards the dwelling of the
great chief, but on reaching the gates of his “palace” yard the king
came out to meet us accompanied by one of the Belgian priests from the
mission, who were preparing to leave the Mushenge in a few days, the
mission station having been abandoned. The priest, after exchanging
greetings with us, left us to make the acquaintance of our host, and we
looked with no little curiosity upon the man who ruled over so remarkable
a people as the Bushongo. Of medium height (short by comparison with
many of his stalwart subjects) but remarkably well-built, Kwete Peshanga
Kena looked every inch a chief. He was dressed in native costume; a
very long pink loin-cloth, gathered into many folds around his waist,
was held in place by a girdle in which was stuck a broad-bladed knife,
similar to that carried by the meanest of his subjects, except that its
blade was neatly inlaid with a design in brass resembling a crocodile;
he wore a small conical cap upon his head, held in place by a copper
hatpin, the sign of an elder, for only court dignitaries may wear hatpins
made of copper. The only ornaments he displayed were two bracelets on
each arm, of iron and of copper, an iron ring on each of his big toes,
and a thin strip of zebra skin, imported from the far south, worn like
a bandolier over one shoulder. But perhaps the most remarkable thing
about the Nyimi’s appearance is his face. I have seldom seen so strong
a face in a negro; he has steady, unflinching eyes, a high forehead, a
nose and lips which are quite fine for a negro, and a very well-shaped,
determined jaw. He greeted us quite simply, and when he spoke it was in
such a quiet, almost musical voice that one might almost have imagined,
were it not for the Chituba language in which we conversed, that one was
listening to a refined, well-educated European. The Nyimi was attended
by a few old men, evidently dignitaries of his court, and a score or so
of younger ones, most of them probably slaves. He conducted us to a spot
in the middle of the principal street of the Mushenge where we could
conveniently pitch our tents, and then we all sat down under a shelter
formed by the pent-shaped roof of a hut, which was waiting to be placed
bodily in position when walls had been built to support it, while the
king inquired our business in the village. Torday had heard that the
Nyimi was an exceptionally intelligent native, and had determined to
take him fully into our confidence. He therefore laid before him the
objects of our journey. He asked if the chief had not noticed that, as
the influence of the white man advances, the natives change their tribal
customs; it was to write down and so preserve these customs together with
the religious beliefs of the people that we had come. He pointed out how
many native arts were dying out, and he said that we desired to purchase
objects of native manufacture in order to place them for all the world
to see in a large house in the capital town of our country, where were
kept specimens of the manufactures of all the peoples in the world. Thus
any one visiting the house would see the carvings, the pile-cloth, and
the ironwork of the Bushongo, and would realise what wonderful workmen
these people are. “Often,” said Torday, “you give away some keepsake to
a white man, but what becomes of it? It is lost, or in years to come no
one will know what it is or whence it came. Everything that you or your
people will sell to me will go to the big house I have mentioned, and
there remain for all time as evidence of the skill and greatness of your
race.” Thus he explained to the chief the uses of the British Museum.
Kwete at once grasped the situation, and remarked that the greatness of
his people as manufacturers of objects of art was fast passing away;
he would be glad, therefore, to think that their handiwork was being
kept and exhibited, and he would give orders that any one who wished to
dispose of any carvings, &c., should offer them for sale to us. With
regard to the history and customs of his tribe, he said that he would
himself furnish us with all the particulars he could, and that he would
summon various old men from his country to supply any information which
he himself might not possess; he wished it to be written down. Several
times in the months which followed the king remarked to us, “Writing:
that is the strength of the white man.” Of course the Nyimi had heard
of our stay at Misumba, and no doubt had been told that we were popular
there, and had done no harm to any one, so he was probably predisposed
towards us before we arrived at his capital, and he subsequently became
our firm friend. Having welcomed us to his village, Kwete returned to
his own dwelling, accompanied by his courtiers, and left us to walk
over to the Kasai Company’s factory to order a supply of trade goods,
and inquire if our provisions had arrived from Luebo. The factory lies
about three-quarters of an hour’s walk to the south of the village,
on the opposite side of a ravine in which there flows a little brook;
the mission station is a similar distance to the east of the capital.
We found the company’s agent at home, and fell to discussing with him
what goods to offer in exchange for curios. He informed us that cotton
materials sold well, and that cowrie shells were very acceptable as small
change, in addition to the salt which is so commonly used as currency in
the Kasai. We accordingly purchased a good amount of commodities, and
then asked if any boxes had come for us from Luebo. Nothing had arrived.
This was very annoying, for we had expected that our stores would have
been waiting for us, and we had practically nothing left in the way of
tea, flour, sugar, and the other necessities of life which one brings out
from Europe; so we despatched a messenger at once to Luebo, asking for
the things to be sent on without delay, and meanwhile settled down to
exist on short commons and commence our work in the Mushenge.
[Illustration: A BELLE OF THE MUSHENGE.]
[Illustration: A BUSHONGO ELDER.]
The first thing to be done was to explore the village. The Mushenge is
by no means so imposing a village as one might expect to find as the
capital of the greatest tribe of the Kasai. The Bushongo are far too
conservative in their ideas to have taken to building houses of plaster
modelled upon a white man’s dwelling, and, as I have remarked, the neatly
decorated huts seen at Misumba are peculiar to the eastern sub-tribes
of the Bushongo; the dwellings at the Mushenge are simple rectangular
huts built of palm leaves, such as the natives have inhabited for many
generations. Each of their huts stands in its own little courtyard,
which is surrounded by a wall of palm leaves, about six or seven feet
in height, so that in passing through the village one sees very few of
the buildings themselves, the roadway being bordered by the walls of
the courtyards. Between these yards is a regular labyrinth of narrow
tortuous passages, which constitute the by-roads of the place, there
being two wide streets, in one of which our camp was pitched, running
through the village. As the Mushenge has no other inhabitants than those
attached to the court of the king, the place is not a large one; I should
doubt if it contains two thousand people. To the west of the village,
just outside the cluster of huts, is an open space, cleared of scrub
and high grass, where dances and public meetings are very frequently
held. In the midst of his capital is situated the dwelling of the king.
It is surrounded by a higher wall than any other houses in the place,
and inside this palisade are innumerable courtyards connected by small
doorways, in which are built store-houses, treasure-houses, accommodation
for the king’s wives and for his personal slaves, and a guard-room. The
guard-room is situated at the entrance to the courtyard through which
one must pass if one would visit the royal sleeping-house, and there are
always a few slaves waiting in it to carry messages for the king, and
to keep out intruders. These sentries are unarmed. At the entrance to
the small enclosure in which the king’s private house stands is a shed,
beneath which the Nyimi sits when in council with his elders or when
trying a case, for he acts as judge himself in all important cases; and
here it was that we used to visit the king during the early part of our
stay at the Mushenge, before we became so friendly with him that he would
receive us anywhere and without any attendants. The private house of the
king consists of a very large replica of a Misumba hut, with the black
patterns worked on its walls which are so noticeable a feature in the
villages of the eastern Bushongo; it is divided into two spacious rooms,
in one of which is situated another rectangular house, exactly resembling
in shape, ornamentation, and size a hut of Misumba; in this inner house
the king sleeps. The roof of the palace is supported by massive wooden
pillars, elaborately carved, and in the centre of the little doorway is a
beautifully carved door-post dividing the entrance into two. Door-posts
such as this, some of them of great age, are common at the Mushenge, and
one often sees specimens of wood-carving of an artistic quality, worthy
of place in any European mansion, supporting the doorway of the most
dilapidated leaf huts. The other buildings in the precincts of the palace
are mostly of the ordinary pattern used in the village, but of rather
larger size.
I have mentioned the fact that one sees no plantations around the
Mushenge when entering the village from the north. In days gone by it
was not customary for the Nyimi or his courtiers to cultivate any land
for themselves, their wants being supplied by the other villages in the
neighbourhood. It is therefore only quite recently that any plantations
at all have been made near the dwelling of the king. Acting on the
advice of a Government official, the Nyimi has now ordered plantations
to be made around his capital, and has thus removed a considerable
burden from his subjects, who had previously to cultivate sufficient
land to supply him and his court with food as well as themselves. As a
result many acres are now planted with ground nuts, cassava, and maize,
especially on the western side of the village. These plantations are
concealed from view by woodlands, so that any one who does not wander
much around the outskirts of the place might easily visit the Mushenge
and come away with the impression that its plantations are extremely
meagre, very few of them being visible from the paths leading to the
mission or to the factory. During our stay of nearly four months at the
capital we took our exercise in the form of rambles with the gun, and
it was when out in search of guinea-fowl that we were able to form some
estimate of the extent of the plantations. Many of the fields had only
recently been cleared of forest or grass in 1908, but by the time these
lines are in print the output of food-stuffs from them should be very
considerable. In following the advice of the Government official with
regard to the formation of these plantations, the Nyimi has displayed
an inclination to introduce useful innovations suggested by the white
man, which is characteristic of him, but which is not shared by his
extremely conservative councillors. In days gone by the Bushongo have
been a very mighty people; fifty or sixty years ago it was sufficient for
a man to be able to say, “I am a subject of the Nyimi,” to ensure his
being received with honour in the villages of the neighbouring tribes.
The more primitive peoples who dwell around them used to respect the
Bushongo; they admired their skill in carving, weaving, and embroidering;
they admired the glamour of the court of their king; they respected the
ruler who held sway over such extensive dominions. But when the white
man appeared in Central Africa, their neighbours realised that there
are peoples more advanced, more powerful, and more clever than the
Bushongo, and the fact that nowadays the Nyimi would be prevented by
the European from calling his people to arms and annihilating one of
his weaker neighbours, has helped to lessen the respect in which he and
his people are held. But the Bushongo, particularly the older people,
are just as proud as ever they were. The inhabitants of the Mushenge
despise not only all foreigners, but even members of their own tribe
who do not happen to be attached to the court of the king. They have in
their language the “bokono,” which corresponds to our “yokel” or “country
cousin,” and is applied to the Bushongo who live in villages other than
the Mushenge; these people are considered by the courtiers to be less
educated and refined than themselves. In the capital are to be found
many descendants of former kings, so its people are really the cream of
Bushongo aristocracy. These people, particularly the old councillors
of the king, are much opposed to the presence of the European in their
country, and to the introduction of any of his ways. As a rule most of
the high dignitaries of his court are not officially present when the
king interviews a white man, but any one who knows them personally may
find them in the background of many a group photographed by travellers,
just mingling with the throng, but always at hand to hear what their
ruler may be saying to the European. Most of the white men who have
visited the Nyimi are probably in ignorance of the existence of elders of
especial importance, but in reality the king can do practically nothing
without the consent of his council.
In 1904 the Bushongo took up arms against the white man, but the king
himself was much opposed to the rising, which was practically forced
upon him, so he informed us, when we became better acquainted with
him, by his elders. The insurrection, it appears, was of a very tame
character, partly because the Nyimi entered into it in a very halfhearted
spirit, which doubtless soon spread through the ranks of his warriors,
and partly because the Bushongo, having for centuries been considered
invincible by their neighbours, had no opportunity of maintaining the
military qualities which they must once have possessed, and had become
more accustomed to the arts of peace than to the stern business of war.
The Bangongo did not, I believe, take any part whatever in the rising of
1904, and their absence from the field deprived the Nyimi of some of his
best fighting men. The present-day youth of the Mushenge is certainly no
warrior; he is a typical “young man about town.” He loves to idle away
his days lounging about the streets or around the precincts of the royal
dwelling in no official capacity whatever, but merely as a hanger-on
to the court, and to sit up far into the night talking and joking with
his friends, a habit which soon lowers him in the estimation of the
European traveller whose tent happens to be pitched in the middle of the
local “Piccadilly” and who desires to sleep after a hard day’s work. The
natives of the Mushenge sit up much later than do the natives of any
other place we visited, and in order to recover from the strain of the
gay life in the capital the children of the courtiers are frequently sent
out into the neighbouring hamlets to visit their country relations.
[Illustration: BUSHONGO ELDERS DANCING.]
Life at the Mushenge is certainly gay. A certain amount of work is got
through owing to the plantations, but the clearing of the ground is done
mainly by slaves and the cultivation by the women, so that it does not
fall upon the young men of the Bushongo; and as every third day is kept
as a “bank-holiday,” no one is overburdened with toil. The men can very
often find employment whereby to earn some European cloth by carrying
loads to and from the Kasai Company’s factory, and the cloth thus earned
is rapidly replacing the palm fibre material formerly always worn around
the waist. The gaieties of the Mushenge usually take the form of dances;
the Nyimi is a most enthusiastic dancer, and likes nothing better than to
hold State dances in the open space to the east of the village, in which
he himself takes part. The first dance we saw was a large one which was
held shortly after our arrival in the village to celebrate the conclusion
of a period of mourning through which the nation had just passed owing to
the death of the king’s sister.
As the sun was beginning to sink a little and the great heat of the
afternoon became rather less oppressive, the elders assembled in the
dancing-ground attired in all their ceremonial finery. This consisted
of voluminous loin-cloths of raphia fibre bordered by strips of the
same material elaborately embroidered in patterns, and in some cases
ornamented by fringes of innumerable small tassels; around their waists
they wore belts covered with beads or cowrie shells, and upon their heads
nodded plumes of gaily coloured feathers. They carried in their hands
large iron knives, the hilts of which were of carefully carved wood.
A throng of ordinary natives and slaves sat upon the ground to watch
the proceedings, forming three sides of a square, the fourth side being
left for members of the royal household. The king walked the hundred
yards or so from his palace gates to the dancing-ground in a procession
formed by dignitaries attached to his person, preceded by an elder
blowing discordant notes upon a horn made of the hollowed tusk of a young
elephant, and followed by his wives and their attendant women. The Nyimi
has about five-and-twenty wives, but the number of women of the royal
household present at the dance must have been close upon a hundred. The
Nyimi, dressed in a scarlet loin-cloth covered with cowries, huge armlets
and leg coverings of cloth decorated with beads, and wearing a large
plume of crested eagles’ feathers, sat cross-legged upon a dais under a
canopy of mats, leaning his back upon an elephant’s tusk planted point
downwards in the ground. As soon as the king was seated the ceremonies
commenced. Only a few of the people took part in the actual dancing,
which to begin with consisted in single individuals executing a few steps
and then sitting down, but later on groups of elders danced, leaping
round in a circle and brandishing their knives, the brilliant colours of
their feathers and costumes making up a brilliant picture in the light
of the setting sun. Lastly, the king himself left his dais and strutted
with a peculiar stiff gait around the ground, amid the enthusiastic
cheering of his people, preceded by an elder who carefully removed any
sticks or other small obstacles from his path. The elder who performs
this duty possesses a title and occupies a high position in the court.
We had been given places close to the dais on which the king had sat, so
we had been able to obtain a splendid view of the proceedings, and had
found out from natives sitting near us who were the numerous officials
taking part in the dance. We witnessed several dances similar to the
one I have described, and were much struck with the manner of the king
when he talked to the dignitaries who performed in them. He would walk
about among the elders nodding to one, speaking earnestly to another,
cracking a joke with a third, evidently taking care to avoid giving
offence by talking to one more than to another or by omitting to greet
any particular councillor who might be present. The countenances of the
old aristocrats to whom he spoke showed clearly in what respect they hold
their king, and how a word from him is held to be an honour to the man to
whom it is addressed. But if the big ceremonial dances are interesting
and even beautiful to look at, there is another ceremony, in which only
one man takes part in, that is much more interesting. It is a ghost
dance. Many years ago a henpecked chief devised a plan for frightening
his wives into obedience by disguising himself as a fearsome ghost.
That is the origin of the ceremony which is still gone through
periodically by the present king of the Bushongo. He tells his wives that
he is going to visit a neighbouring village and will be absent all day.
He then secretly retires into a hut near the royal dwelling and dresses
himself in garments made of raphia fibre covered with cowrie shells; no
part of his person is exposed to view when he is arrayed in this dress,
and he even wears on his head a carved wooden mask rendered hideous
by the application of red dye, to the top of which is affixed a huge
fan-shaped plume of eagles’ feathers. Thus attired he walks around the
village accompanied by yelling crowds and preceded by drummers. Every
now and then he pauses in his promenade and indulges in a wild dance,
leaping furiously up and down and violently shaking himself. Overcome by
these exertions, which, overpowered as he is by a mass of heavy clothing,
must be most exhausting during the heat of a tropical afternoon, he
breathlessly sinks on to a stool and is fanned by his attendant courtiers
while he takes a few moments’ repose. At the conclusion of his tour of
the village, he is placed (often together with one or more of his little
sons) in a large wooden box fitted with carrying poles, in which he is
borne shoulder high about the village by the populace, even grave-faced
old warriors fighting for the honour of carrying the royal burden. The
fact that the king’s feet are covered during the dance and that he is
carried in the box are interesting survivals of a custom now no longer
observed. In former times (even until quite recent years) the king of
the Bushongo was never allowed to touch the ground! Whenever he wished
to move he was carried, and whenever he desired to sit down he sat upon
a slave! Even nowadays should the Nyimi wish to sit, a slave will throw
himself upon his hands and knees to form a chair for his master; and if
when sitting upon an ordinary chair or stool the king stretches out his
leg, a slave will usually interpose his own foot between his master’s
foot and the ground. There is exhibited in the Ethnographical Gallery of
the British Museum an enlarged photograph of Kwete sitting upon a slave
in the manner I have described. The person of the Nyimi is considered
sacred, for he is believed to be the direct descendant of God. As a
matter of fact the present king is the one hundred and twenty-first
ruler of his dynasty to occupy the Bushongo throne. The succession to
the kingship is in the female line. Torday was able to obtain precise
information as to the names of all the Bushongo kings, for the king
himself is obliged to know the names of all his predecessors, and there
is, too, a court dignitary whose duty it is to carry the history of
the people in his head, and many of the elders of the Mushenge pride
themselves upon their historical knowledge. Torday checked the statements
of all these informants in every way that he could think of and found no
discrepancy in them. The work of compiling the history of the people, and
of writing down and considering the various legends which bear upon it,
constituted the greater part of his labours at the Mushenge.
[Illustration: THE NYIMI IN HIS GHOST-DANCE.]
[Illustration: AN ELDER DISPLAYING A STATUE.]
From the legends, as well as from certain evidence in the culture of
the people, Torday has been able to determine that, many centuries ago,
the Bushongo migrated from the north, possibly from the Shari River.
It is not my purpose here to discuss the history of this remarkable
tribe, nor to relate their legends; it would take a whole volume to do
justice to the subject, and Torday has, in collaboration with Mr. T. A.
Joyce of the British Museum, already published the scientific results
of our visit to their country; but I mention these matters to show how
extraordinarily complete are the traditions of the Bushongo, a people
to whom writing, of course, is unknown, and who possess no record of
their history other than that handed down from generation to generation,
and retained in the memories of the elders. One figure looms large in
Bushongo history—that of the King Shamba Bolongongo, the greatest of
their national heroes. This chief ruled at the time when his tribe was
at the zenith of its power, and he appears to have been a remarkably
enlightened king. In his young days he travelled widely to the west, even
reaching as far as the Kancha River; and in thinking of this journey
one must remember that before the arrival of the European in Africa the
natives practically never left the territory of their own tribes, and
rarely knew more of the country around them than could be visited in a
day’s march. Shamba’s journey, therefore, was a very extraordinary one.
Furthermore, he travelled with his eyes open, and introduced among the
Bushongo on his return many innovations which had struck him as useful
during his wanderings. At the commencement of the seventeenth century
this negro chief had ideas so advanced that he issued an order forbidding
his troops to take more life in war than was absolutely necessary, and
instructing them to, where possible, gain their victories by temporarily
disabling their enemies. Until one has visited Central Africa, and to
some extent studied the various tribes with whom one comes in contact,
it is hard to believe that such humane and civilised ideas could have
emanated from the brain of a negro despot. One is too apt to imagine
that all African natives were, before the arrival of the European, as
savage and as degraded as are the Bankutu of the great forest. The
Bushongo offer a striking proof to the contrary. Another curious custom
introduced by Shamba is that of never carrying a knife when there is no
moon; it is forbidden by the tribal law to do so. This rule was no doubt
found necessary to keep down treacherous murders in the darkness, and
it has given rise to the habit of wearing a wooden imitation of a knife
stuck into the girdle when the moon is not shining, for the youth of the
Mushenge would not consider his costume complete without something in his
belt. When confronted with a long list of chiefs it is very difficult to
fix with any certainty the dates at which any one of them sat upon the
throne. It is quite possible, for instance, that two or three kings may,
in troublous times, have succeeded one another in the course of a single
year. In the case of Shamba, however, Torday was able to fix his date at
the commencement of the seventeenth century with certainty, as during
the reign of his successor there occurred a total eclipse of the sun, a
phenomenon which is duly remembered as an incident in Bushongo history.
Shamba’s words are still quoted upon many occasions by the people of his
tribe, and he appears to have made many trite remarks which have become
proverbs. “To every man his wife, to every dog his bone, and you will
have peace in the village,” is an example of one of these sayings.
At the time of Shamba, Bushongo art had reached a very high standard.
The Nyimi one day showed to us the statues of former kings about which
Captain Thesiger had spoken, and among which was a portrait of Shamba.
This was a wonderful piece of wood-carving, one of the finest examples
of Bushongo work that we came across, and it is no exaggeration to say
that the figure bears quite a resemblance in the face to the descendant
to Shamba who occupies the throne to-day. The statue is in the British
Museum, so is the photograph of the present Nyimi—my readers can observe
the likeness for themselves. The purchase of this statue was one of the
most difficult things that Torday accomplished during his journey in the
Kasai. It not only belonged to the nation, and so was not the personal
property of the king, but it was regarded with the greatest reverence
by the natives. Some objects are held very sacred by the Bushongo. For
example, there exists an ivory trumpet which led to a serious war because
a visitor from another village made a scratch upon it with his finger
when examining it. The statues, four in number, of the heroes which
the Nyimi showed to us were regarded with a respect similar to that
accorded to the trumpet. We were, of course, most anxious to secure these
wonderful specimens of carving for the National Museum, but at first
it seemed highly improbable that we should succeed in doing so. Torday
commenced by tactfully sounding the Nyimi as to whether he would be much
opposed to the sale of these treasures, and rather to our surprise we
learned that he would not. He had fully understood what Torday had told
him about the uses of the Museum as a treasure-house for such objects,
and he was content that the statues of his ancestors should find a
permanent home in it. “I would sell them to you if they were mine,”
he said, “but if I suggest such a thing to my councillors they will
immediately oppose the idea. You must talk to the elders yourself, and
tell them that I do not wish to let the statues go; then, in their usual
spirit of contrariness, they may desire to sell them.” Torday thereupon
proceeded to win over the elders. This necessitated a good deal of
expenditure of trade goods in presents to the various dignitaries who
would have a voice in the matter of the sale, and occupied a considerable
time, for each councillor had to be interviewed separately and in secret
when Torday discussed this all-important question. Eventually, owing to
Torday’s persuasive powers, and to the fact that our interest in their
customs had caused the elders to take a liking to us, all the dignitaries
concerned agreed to use their influence with the king to induce him to
sell us the statues.
[Illustration: THE STATUE OF SHAMBA BOLONGONGO (NOW IN THE BRITISH
MUSEUM).]
At a solemn gathering of the elders the matter was discussed. The Nyimi
told us afterwards that he had let it appear that he was not desirous of
parting with the treasures, but when the council had urged him to do so
in order that all the world might see and marvel at them in the museum he
had agreed to let them go too, and the question of price was then raised.
The price demanded for the first statue was a very high one, to be paid
mainly in a kind of dark red cloth which we could purchase from the Kasai
Company, but we could not let such an opportunity go by of securing so
important an object, and were, therefore, obliged to pay what was asked.
As time went on Torday managed, by the same means, to secure all the four
statues that we had seen, three of which are now on view at the museum.
They are, I believe, considered by scientists to be some of the most
remarkable objects of native manufacture that have been brought out of
Central Africa.
It may seem rather like vandalism to deprive the Bushongo people of
the statues to which such importance is attached—it seemed so to us at
the time—but when one remembers that the respect with which they are
regarded will, as the inevitable change in native customs and beliefs
following upon the introduction of European ideas gradually spreads over
the dark continent, slowly, perhaps, but surely fade away until the
statues, if left at the Mushenge, would have come to be looked upon as
valueless, one cannot help thinking that it is better that such objects
should be permanently preserved in a place where they are appreciated,
and where they run the smallest risk of damage or destruction. If left in
the care of the Nyimi such things are constantly exposed to the danger of
loss by fire or damage by white ants; in years to come they would very
likely have been given away to any casual traveller when the Bushongo
had ceased to care about them, and thus perhaps be lost for ever. As it
is they are safe; and I do not think that we can reproach ourselves for
putting them in a place of safety. We collected in the Mushenge a large
number of other objects illustrative of Bushongo art, including some very
fine specimens of the velvet-like pile cloth made of raphia fibre and
embroidered with many curious patterns, each of which has its meaning and
its name.
Among the many pieces of elaborate wood-carving that we purchased were
some very curious “divining” instruments, by means of which crimes are
brought home to their perpetrators by a fetish-man. These instruments
consisted of models of crocodiles, rather conventional in shape, about a
foot in length, hewn from solid wood and ornamented with carefully carved
patterns upon the sides; the backs of the creatures are flat. The method
of using the diviner is as follows:—When a man has lost something which
he thinks may have been stolen, he goes to the fetish-man and, after
paying him a fee, for the services of the magician are never given for
nothing, requests him to find out the name of the thief. The divining
instrument is then produced, and the fetish-man commences to rub its flat
back with a small wooden disc, repeating, as he does so, the names of
every one who might possibly be the guilty party. When the name of the
culprit is mentioned, the disc refuses to be moved along the crocodile’s
back, thereby indicating the person to whom the poison test is to be
applied. If after swallowing the poison the suspect does not die, he is
paid heavy damages by the man who has caused him to undergo the ordeal by
suggesting his name to the wizard as the possible thief. If he dies—well,
he was guilty, and there is one thief less among the Bushongo.
We secured a number of carved pieces of tukula, the meaning of which we
were for some time at a loss to understand. We discovered that when a
man dies it is usual for his widows to distribute these objects among
his relations and intimate friends as souvenirs of the deceased, a
custom which resembles very closely the old English habit of giving away
mourning rings. The death of a Court dignitary and the investiture of
his successor gives occasion for a lot of ceremonial. During our stay at
the capital an important functionary, whose duties resemble those of a
herald, died, and the king ordered a mourning dance to be held in honour
of his memory. This dance, which was not in the least mournful, was
similar to the dances so frequently held at the Mushenge, and consisted
of a number of gorgeously arrayed elders dancing round in a circle,
brandishing their great ceremonial knives. The body of the dead herald
was in the meantime lying in state in a shed specially erected for the
purpose in the bush, a hundred yards or so outside the village. It was
encased in a coffin made of mats, and was guarded by the dead man’s
female relatives. Eventually his lying-in-state became almost intolerable
to any one living close at hand, for many days elapsed before the corpse
was buried, but it gave us an opportunity of observing the funeral rites
of the Bushongo.
I have alluded so often to the courtiers of the Nyimi and to his
council that I ought to give my readers some idea of the composition
of the king’s household. The full number of dignitaries amounts to
about one hundred and forty, but there is an upper chamber of a very
few of the highest dignitaries, such as the prime minister and the
commander-in-chief of the warriors. All sorts of officials make up
the one hundred and forty. Heralds, military officers, magistrates,
representatives of outlying districts, a number of female officials, the
man who picks up obstacles in the king’s path, the keeper of the records,
and representatives of the various arts and crafts of the Bushongo, are
but a few of the persons who hold positions at Court. The representatives
of the arts and crafts are the heads of bodies closely resembling the
Guilds of London. For instance, there exists at the Mushenge the weavers,
cordwainers, and fishmongers; carvers, builders, and hunters are also
represented, although the Bushongo are by no means famous for their skill
in the chase. It is noteworthy that certain positions at Court are held
always by slaves. Slaves are, as a rule, well treated by the Bushongo,
but are considered very much lower in the social scale than their
aristocratic masters. We were kept very hard at work gleaning information
about the matters to which I have briefly alluded in the foregoing pages
and in collecting legends and other items of interest to scientists,
but our life, although full of interest, was rendered very trying by a
foolish mistake about the forwarding of our stores. As I have said, we
arrived at the Mushenge with practically nothing in the way of European
comestibles, relying upon receiving a depot of “chop-boxes,” as one’s
cases of provisions are termed in the Congo, which should have been
waiting for us at Luebo, but the days grew into weeks and the weeks into
months before they reached us, having been left at Dima by mistake. The
Kasai Company’s agent very kindly sent us such things as he could spare,
but he himself was living on very short commons, pending the arrival of
his own stores, and the missionaries departed very soon after our coming
to form a new station near the Kasai Company’s new hospital at the mouth
of the Lubue River, we were therefore obliged to exist almost entirely
upon native fare.
“Palm oil chop,” a dish consisting of cassava dough and a chicken cooked
in palm oil flavoured with red pepper, is by no means a bad breakfast
dish taken occasionally, but to live on the stuff is to learn to dislike
it. In addition to this, poultry is very difficult to obtain in the
Mushenge, so that we had quite frequently to partake of a meal of the
manioc dough without the chicken, washed down with water, for we soon
came to an end of our tea and coffee, and we carried no wines with us.
It appears that during the rising of 1904, when the Bushongo deserted
their villages, the chickens died in great numbers, and very few have
since been reared, accordingly the fowls one can sometimes obtain are
very expensive and very skinny. Although we tried to make the best of
things, and to keep up appearances by dining off manioc dough at a table
faultlessly appointed (I defy any one who is not in the best of health to
attack such a meal if it is badly served up), the starvation soon began
to tell upon us. When we left the forest we were feeling the strain of
our journey in its terrible climate, and we really needed “feeding up,”
so that we were more affected by the lack of supplies than we should have
been earlier in our stay in Africa. Torday suffered more than I did; I
escaped with neuralgia and loss of strength; but one night Torday was
taken very seriously ill, his heart had begun to feel the strain. With
nothing whatever in the way of comforts at hand, I think he is remarkably
fortunate to have survived the attack; for a night and a day I feared
that he might succumb. I suppose that his will power had a good deal to
do with his recovery, which was certainly not due to the nourishment
that could be found for him. Our clothes, too, had practically come to
an end, for we had intended only to spend six months in the basin of the
Sankuru, but our visit had extended to over a year, and what with wear
and tear, and having to part with garments in exchange for curios, our
wardrobes were reduced to very scanty proportions. I had no boots. The
ones I brought up country with me, cracked by constant wettings, followed
by exposure to the scorching sun, were quite worn out, I was therefore
obliged to wear an old pair of canvas shoes, the rubber soles of which
quickly wore into holes, letting my feet through on to the ground. It
is remarkable how one unconsciously avoids treading upon things that
will hurt one when walking in the rough grass of the plains or in the
woodlands; although I marched a good deal when wearing these old shoes,
for I used to go out every day in a usually unsuccessful search for
guinea-fowls, and I made a journey of over a fortnight’s duration to the
north-west of the Mushenge, I do not remember once seriously cutting my
feet.
We were unlucky in being at the Mushenge when our stores were delayed,
for the local tobacco is scarcely smokable, and we are both of us
inveterate smokers. In many places the natives grow tobacco which, dried
in the native manner, is really not bad, but the Bushongo cook a green
leaf over a fire and tear it up and put it in their pipes; this was the
only tobacco we could get to smoke, and as it crumbles when dried into
a fine powder, it is almost useless in a pipe, and even when carefully
rolled in fragments of the weekly edition of the _Times_, it makes a
truly disgusting cigarette. The Bushongo themselves, however, appear to
thoroughly enjoy it. Concerning the introduction of smoking among them,
the Bushongo have a curious legend. Many years ago one of them returned
from a long journey, and he was describing to his compatriots the many
strange sights that he had seen, when he produced a pipe and some tobacco
and commenced to smoke. His companions were astounded—“Look at the man,”
they cried, “he is drinking smoke!” The traveller then explained to them
wherein the charm of smoking lay, and induced them to try it. When they
said that they found it agreeable, he said, “When you have a quarrel
with your brother, in your fury you may wish to slay him; sit down and
smoke a pipe. When the pipe is finished you will think that perhaps
death is too great a punishment for your brother’s offences, and you
will decide to let him off with a thrashing. Relight your pipe and smoke
on. As the smoke curls upward you will come to the conclusion that a few
hard words might take the place of blows. Light up your pipe once more,
and when it is smoked through, you will go to your brother and ask him
to forget the past.” Living in their very midst, we soon became friendly
with all the natives of the Mushenge. For the first week or so of our
stay the King used to call upon us and receive our visits, attended by
a number of his courtiers, but as he became better acquainted with us,
he would visit us unattended, or accompanied only by one or two intimate
friends, and would often sit with us until far into the night discussing
his kingdom or listening eagerly to everything we told him about Europe.
We were astonished to find the ruler of so conservative a people as the
Bushongo so progressive in his ideas.
He bitterly regretted the departure of the Roman Catholic missionaries
from his village. The priests had received orders to abandon their
mission near the Mushenge, and to found a new station at Pangu, near
the spot where the waters of the Lubue flow into the Kasai, in order
that their medical knowledge might be turned to account in assisting to
nurse the sick who would be sent there to a new hospital which the Kasai
Company was building. No doubt their work at Pangu has been most useful,
and very likely several Europeans by this time owe their lives to their
care, but I cannot help thinking that it is a thousand pities that they
ever left the Mushenge. One of the two priests was a man who had spent a
dozen years in Africa, and who was a great favourite with the Nyimi; with
his experience, and the goodwill of the king, his work among the Bushongo
might have been wonderful. It may seem strange to say so, but I do not
think a missionary could wish for a better field than that offered by
the ultra-conservative Bushongo, so long as the missionary knows their
history and their religion thoroughly before he attempts to introduce his
own faith among them. It is not my purpose here to describe in detail the
religious beliefs of the Bushongo—Torday has dealt at length with them
elsewhere; but when I say that they contain one God, the creator, and a
set of moral laws of an extraordinarily high character, which take the
place among the Bushongo occupied in Christendom by the Ten Commandments
and the Sermon on the Mount, my readers may begin to think that there
is quite a possibility that by tactful management a missionary might
be able to convert the legends and precepts of the Bushongo into those
of Christianity. But such a work requires a thorough knowledge of the
local beliefs, a keen insight into the native character, and great tact
combined with patience. I have never been a missionary, and therefore
cannot pretend to be able to teach others how to carry on their most
difficult work, but I do venture to think that more could be accomplished
by becoming intimate with the Nyimi and very gradually bringing to his
notice, and to the notice of his elders, points of similarity between
the Christian religion and the Bushongo belief, and thus slowly letting
the natives regard the former as an amplification of the latter, than by
inducing a number of children, too young to have yet learned anything of
their tribal religion, to attend Christian services in a mission chapel.
The Nyimi is most anxious that all the children of his tribe should
learn to read and write, and also that his people should learn such
useful crafts as carpentering, &c. For this reason he is anxious that
the mission should be re-established near the Mushenge, and the man upon
whom the task of re-establishing it devolves will find that the king is
predisposed in his favour. When once he has succeeded, by tact and by the
example of a strictly fair and honourable life, in winning the affection
of the elders and the people, then, I think, he may reasonably hope to be
able to slowly introduce his real mission, and to attempt the conversion
of the king. But let the missionary understand the native religion as
thoroughly as he possibly can before he tries to supplant it with his
own, and I am sure that he will find many of the Bushongo beliefs helpful
rather than otherwise in his work. If it is the duty of the traveller
who, like Torday, goes out to Africa in the interests of ethnographical
science to learn what he can of native religions, surely it is the duty
of the missionaries to turn the information thus gained to good account.
There is an American Presbyterian Mission at Ibanshe, a few days’ journey
to the south of the Mushenge, and another at Luebo; the mission at the
capital itself was Roman Catholic; Bushongo children have attended both.
It seems to me that the very greatest care must be necessary to avoid
the work done by these two branches of the Christian religion injuring
one another’s utility. The native children notice difference in their
teaching. I know that from remarks made to me by lads who had received
instruction at both, and the youthful Bushongo would very likely not be
at all averse to discovering what might appear to them contradictory
ideas in their doctrines; this would act as a severe check upon the
progress of Christianity in the country. I think that not only might the
missionary turn to account the intelligence of the Nyimi, but I believe
that a resident advisor could easily guide the king into the path of a
very enlightened ruler. I have shown that he is progressive in his ideas,
and that his tribal laws are far in advance of any one would expect to in
an African tribe; I can also say that in character Kwete is remarkably
just. We came across several instances of the fairness with which he
presides over trials of his subjects, one of which I may quote here. We
were sitting one evening endeavouring to make ourselves believe that we
were enjoying a remarkably scanty meal of cassava dough and one skinny
chicken about as big as an English wood-pigeon, when we were startled
by the shrieks of a woman arising from a hut close at hand. We hurried
to the spot, and discovered that a man had been practising the brutal
habit (very common in Africa) of putting red pepper into his wife’s
eyes because she had in some way annoyed him; the pain produced by this
diabolical punishment must be terrible. Naturally we were infuriated,
and found it very hard to resist the temptation to give the barbarous
husband the thrashing he so thoroughly deserved. Instead of touching the
man, however, we decided to take him before his chief. Torday remained
to prevent him escaping while I went round to see the Nyimi. I found him
at his dwelling, and informing him of what had occurred, I requested
him to at once put the scoundrel in chains and keep him there for a
good long time. “I will have him put in the guard-room by the gates of
my courtyard,” replied the chief, “but I cannot put him in chains until
I have heard his case in the morning.” In my anger I had asked him to
condemn a man unheard, and I had been rightly snubbed for it. Next day
the man was brought up before the king and a number of the elders,
Torday appearing as counsel for the prosecution, and was sentenced to
three weeks in chains. “In chains” simply meant the ignominy of having
to sleep in the guard-room, and to walk about in the daytime with a rope
tied loosely round his neck, so the culprit got off rather more easily
than he deserved; but one must remember that an act of cruelty such as
he had committed is not looked upon with so much horror by natives as by
ourselves, and to judge by the number of women who came to Torday after
this incident to beg for a supply of boracic acid wherewith to bathe
their own eyes when their husbands administered red pepper to them, such
acts must be far from uncommon. A resident advisor could do more to stamp
out such practices as this and the trial by poison ordeal by setting
the Nyimi against them, than can be effected by any number of decrees
forbidding such things issued from Boma or Brussels. Such an official
might, I think, do a lot towards restoring and remodelling according to
modern ideas the greatness of the Bushongo nation, which is but a shadow
of what it was, say, a hundred years ago. The predecessors of Kwete upon
the Bushongo throne were by no means all so enlightened as the great
Shamba, or as Kwete himself; numerous cruel tyrants ruled the tribe, men
who, in fits of savage passion at some delay in the payment of tribute,
have massacred hundreds of their subjects, and who did much to shake the
allegiance of many of the remoter districts to the chief.
Now that the white man can prevent the Nyimi from taking summary
vengeance on his subjects, even if he desired to do so, some of the
sub-tribes of the Bushongo, mindful of the deeds of former days, are by
no means so loyal as are the inhabitants of the Mushenge. During our
stay at the capital some of the Bangendi, a portion of the tribe living
near the Lubudi River, rose against their king. The Nyimi himself set
out for the scene of the disturbance, accompanied by a number of his
troops (Baluba and Batetela slaves for the most part), who were many of
them armed with old muzzle-loading guns. During his absence messengers
were constantly arriving at the Mushenge from the scene of the disorder,
and reports of severe fighting were quickly circulated. “So-and-so has
killed three of the Bangendi with his own hand”—“The king has sent for
every man to join him, as the Bangendi are too strong for his force”;
such rumours kept the village in a great state of excitement. At last
a wounded man was carried home, and we were requested to give him what
medical attendance we could. The man had been shot by a gun in the
stomach, and after a day or two he succumbed to his injuries, for which
we could do little or nothing except endeavour to keep his strength
up by administering to him the last remaining item of our European
provisions—namely, a bottle of Bovril. When the Nyimi and his men
returned we found out that the whole affair had really been remarkably
tame. The man who had died was the only one of the king’s followers to
be wounded, and the Government troops had appeared upon the scene before
serious hostilities could commence; on their arrival the Bangendi had
dispersed. I do not know if the insurgents had sustained any losses,
but if they did, they could only have been very slight. This affair,
insignificant in itself, serves to show that the unity of the Bushongo is
not so firm as it was, and with its unity the race has lost much of its
former greatness.
[Illustration: CHILDREN AT THE MUSHENGE IMITATING A BEARDED EUROPEAN.]
[Illustration: THE NYIMI’S SONS PLAYING WITH OUR FIREARMS.]
We became friendly not only with the Nyimi and the great dignitaries
of his Court, but with all classes of natives during our stay at the
Mushenge, and particularly with the children; two or three of the king’s
little sons, all under seven years of age, and some of their playmates
became our constant companions. When we got up in the mornings we would
find the children waiting outside the tents eager to be allowed to
perform some service for us, such as holding a mirror while we shaved.
All day long they would sit beside us in the shed in which we worked,
or accompany us upon our rambles round the village, and at meal-times
they dearly loved to take the place of a “boy” and hand us our food.
We used to spend most of our spare time playing with these youngsters,
and I remember once, just after the death of the herald alluded to
above, I returned from a search after guinea-fowl to find the children
playing the parts of dignitaries at a funeral ceremony, in which Torday,
reclining in his deck-chair, was acting as the corpse! The children were
very good as a rule, and remarkably fair in all their games and disputes.
Two of them, by name Mikope and Mingi Bengela, who were bosom friends
really, would fight just after we had partaken of our midday meal. These
conflicts were often most amusing, the blows delivered (which, by the
way, never landed upon the person of the adversary) were so terrific that
their impetus frequently caused the champion who dealt them to sprawl
upon the ground, and tears of rage would spring into the hero’s eyes as,
time after time, they beat the air. But should another child attempt to
do anything so unfair as to touch either combatant during the fray both
Mikope and Mingi Bengela, forgetting their own differences, would turn
upon the intruder and belabour him as hard as they could. As soon as
one of these fights was over (that is to say, when the combatants were
weary or when anything else more exciting attracted their attention) it
was forgotten, and the two gladiators became as friendly as before their
dispute. During the time that food was very scarce I undertook a trip
to the north-west of the Mushenge, towards the confluence of the Kasai
and Sankuru, in the hope of being able to shoot some game and send the
meat back to Torday, for at this time several European travellers were
expected at the capital, including a Belgian journalist, a military
officer, and Colonel Chaltin, famous in the Arab wars, who had recently
become director of the Kasai Company. I stayed in several small villages
in a thickly-wooded country, where I tried to obtain an elephant.
The natives told me that the forest on the left bank of the Sankuru
is rapidly spreading southwards towards the Mushenge, and I was shown
several places now clothed thickly with young woods which had been open
country in the memory even of natives of about twenty-five years of age.
Elephants are fairly numerous in this country, but I was never able to
obtain one. They pass their time in the low-lying part of the woodlands,
which is mostly submerged and in which the undergrowth is so dense as
to render a very near approach necessary before even so large a beast
as an elephant can be seen, and when one is continually slipping about
on roots concealed from view by the water one can scarcely hope to get
very near to a beast without attracting his attention. Upon the only
occasion when I did really believe that I should succeed in bagging an
elephant the native that accompanied me got such a bad attack of nerves
that he bolted, making off in one direction while the elephant retired
hurriedly in another, and leaving me to follow him as best I could
through a forest swamp with darkness rapidly coming on. I had no choice
but to follow the man, for the whole country was under water, often as
deep as one’s waist, and I knew that I should have very little chance of
getting out of the woods at all if I allowed my companion to get out of
sight or earshot. After several unsuccessful attempts to get an elephant
I realised that I was wasting time and sending Torday nothing to eat, so
I turned my attention to some buffalo which I heard were to be found in
a clearing near a tiny village called Ikwembe. Ikwembe was a miserable
place, consisting of only about ten extremely dilapidated huts, and the
natives, who had probably never received a white man to stay in their
village before, did not seem particularly pleased to see me. They were
not in the least hostile, of course, for they knew that I travelled under
the protection of the king, but I received a very poor welcome. Upon my
explaining that I wished to shoot a buffalo, the chief, a very old man
with a deformed leg, in which the knee would seem to have been dislocated
in early youth and never put into place again, with the result that the
limb had not grown properly, informed me that a herd of these animals
habitually fed close to the village, and that his people would show me
where to search for them. Just as the sun was nearing the horizon, and
I was endeavouring to secure a guinea-fowl for my supper, a native came
hurrying to call me, having seen five buffalo in the clearing. When I
returned, bringing with me the head of one of the beasts, I began to be
regarded as a welcome guest, for the Bushongo are not keen enough hunters
to often succeed in killing buffaloes themselves. At dawn I sent off my
six men (all the porters I had, for I was travelling with practically
no baggage) to carry the meat to the Mushenge, of course presenting the
inhabitants of Ikwembe with their share, and in the evening I again found
the buffaloes and bagged another. On my return to Ikwembe the old chief
formally requested me never to leave his village! After a few days,
however, in the course of which I added nothing but a duiker to my bag,
my popularity began to wane. Unfortunately much of the meat that I sent
back to Torday was bad before it reached him, for I had had to wander
some distance from the capital to find any game at all. The buffaloes I
shot at Ikwembe appear to be “Congo buffaloes,” the _bos caffer nanus_ of
naturalists, and I should think they were larger than the animals whose
tracks I had seen in the great forest. The bulls are rather darker in
colour than the mounted specimen of a “Congo buffalo” from Nigeria in
the Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road. Of other game there are very
few species, bush-buck and duiker representing the antelope family here
as in most of the districts we visited, while the ubiquitous red pig is
to be found in the forests. On the whole my shooting trip, though very
enjoyable and affording me an opportunity of seeing something of the
country and the Bushongo other than the courtiers of the king, was not
very profitable as regards the amount of meat sent back to the Mushenge.
In the course of his investigations into the history of the Bushongo,
Torday elicited some information which enabled him to form a theory as
to the origin of the Bashilele, a people whom I have mentioned in an
earlier chapter as attacking the official in charge of Basongo, near the
confluence of the Kasai and the Sankuru. From what the Nyimi told him he
came to the conclusion that these people and their western neighbours,
hitherto known to us as the Tukongo, must be really a branch of the
Bushongo stock. Before leaving Europe Torday had conceived a great desire
to visit the hitherto unexplored country between Kasai and its tributary
the Loange where dwell these two tribes, and now it seemed to him that,
in order to complete his study of the Bushongo, it was imperative that
we should make a determined effort to get into touch with the peoples
whom he believed to be their kinsmen. We learned that the word “Tukongo,”
which figures on many maps, is really a misnomer, like the word “Bakuba,”
and that the natives of the Loange region call themselves Bakongo, by
which name in future I shall refer to them. They are not, however, to
be confused with the other Bakongo who inhabit the lower Congo near the
coast, with whom they are in no way connected.
[Illustration: MIKOPE AND MINGI BENGELA.]
[Illustration: A BUSHONGO VILLAGE NEAR THE MUSHENGE.]
The Bashilele and Bakongo bore a bad reputation. They had burnt a factory
belonging to the Kasai Company on the banks of the Upper Kasai; they
had repulsed with considerable losses two military expeditions directed
across their country from the East; and in the North they continually
snipe at the soldiers and porters whenever the white officer commanding
at Basongo endeavours to penetrate inland from the river bank. This much
is true: the Bashilele and Bakongo must plead guilty to this; but with
these facts to go upon imaginative persons had endowed the tribes with
a truly terrible reputation. They were cannibals of the most debased
type, treacherous and warlike; their country consisted of dense forest,
in which even a strong escort would be at the mercy of the natives. All
the white men to whom we had mentioned our desire to visit the country
between the Loange and the Kasai had been fully convinced that if we
once succeeded in entering the unknown tract we should never be seen
again; but the king of the Bushongo, whose opinion we regarded as of
more value than those of Europeans, considered it quite possible that
if once we could establish friendly relations with outlying villages of
either the Bakongo or Bashilele tribes, we might reasonably hope to be
able to cross their territory. Torday therefore decided to proceed to the
Kwilu River, where he had previously carried on a great deal of research
work among the natives, and to attempt to march overland from the Kwilu
River to the Upper Kasai, thereby connecting the work he had done on
the Kwilu with that which he had now accomplished in the region of the
Sankuru. It was, therefore, with this somewhat ambitious plan in our mind
that we left the Mushenge at Christmas 1908, after nearly four months
of interesting work at the court of the Nyimi, and returning to the
Sankuru at Bolombo, descended the river by steamer to the Kasai Company’s
headquarters at Dima.