A native of Batanga recently described to me the war-fetich as formerly

prepared by his people. The medicine for it is arranged for thus. A house

is built at least several hundred yards from the village. There will be

present no one but the doctor, who eats and sleeps there while he is

arranging with the spirits and deciding on the medicine. After two days he

tells the people that he has finished it, that his preparations are ready,

and that they must assemble at his house. He tells them to bring with them

a certain shaped spear with prongs. Men have already gathered in the

village, to the number of several hundred, waiting for the war. The doctor

chooses from among them some man whom he sends to the forest to get a

certain ingredient, a red amomum pod. (It contains the "Guinea grains," or

Malaguetta pepper, which taste like cardamom seeds, which a century ago

were so highly valued in Europe that only the rich could buy them.) Then

the doctor and the man, leaving the crowd, go together to the forest with

knife and machete and basket. They may have to go several miles in order

to find a tree called "unyongo-muaele." The doctor holds the chewed amomum

seeds in his mouth, and blows them out against the tree, saying,

"Pha-a-a! The gun shots! Let them not touch me!" The assistant holds the

basket while the doctor climbs the tree and rubs off pieces of loose bark

which are caught in the basket as they fall. They then go on into the

forest to find another tree named "kota." There he blows the chewed seeds

in the same way saying the same,--"Pha-a-a! Thou tree! Let not the bullets

hit me!" And the assistant, with basket standing below, catches the bark

scraped down as the doctor climbs this tree.

They return to the village and enter the doctor's house. No women or

children may enter the house or be present at the ceremonies. The men

bring into the house a very big iron pot, and the doctor says, "This is

what is to contain all the ingredients of the medicine." Then the doctor,

with two other men, takes that spear by night, leaving all the other men

to occupy themselves with songs of war, while the townspeople are asleep;

they go to the grave of some man who has recently died. They dig open the

grave, and force off the lid of the coffin. The doctor thrusts the spear

down into the coffin into the head of the corpse. He twirls the spear

about in the skull, so as to get a firm grip on it with the prongs of the

spear. He changes his voice, and speaking in a hoarse guttural manner

says, "Thou corpse! Do not let any one hear what I say! And do not thou

injure me for doing this to you!" When the spear is well thrust into the

skull, he stoops into the grave, and with a machete cuts off the head. He

goes away carrying the head on the spear-point. While doing all this, he

wears not the slightest particle of clothing. They go back to the village

to the doctor's house; and there they catch a cock, and in the presence of

the crowd the doctor twists (not cuts) off its head. The blood of the cock

is caught in a large fresh leaf. He takes the fowl to the big pot, and

lets some of its blood drip into it. The head of the corpse is also put

into the pot, with water, and all the other ingredients, including the

spear. The bullets of the doctor's gun are also to go into the pot, which

is then set over a fire.

After the water has boiled the doctor takes a furry skin of a bush-cat,

and all the hundreds of men stand on one side in a line. He dips the skin

into the pot, and shakes it over them. As he thus sprinkles them, he lays

on them a prohibition, thus: "All ye! this month, go ye not near your

wives!" All that month is spent by them practising war songs and dances.

Then the doctor takes the blood that was collected on the leaf, and mixes

it with powdered red-wood. This mixture is tied up with the human head in

a flying-squirrel's skin. He hangs this bundle up in the house over the

place where he sits. The body of the fowl next day is torn in pieces, not

cut with a knife, and placed in a small earthen pot with njabi oil (the

oil of a large pulpy forest fruit), and ngândâ (gourd) seeds. An entire

fresh plantain bunch is cut, and successive squads of the men peel each

man his small piece with his finger-nails. These also they shred with

their nails, part into the pot, and part on a plantain leaf, as the pot is

small, and all the pieces will be added as the contents of the pot are

gradually reduced. The doctor himself lifts the pot from the fire, and

first eats of the mess, and then gives each of the men, with his hand, a

small share.

When all have finished eating, he opens the bundle that had been tied in

the squirrel skin, and with the fibrous inner bark of a tree,

kimbwa-mbenje (from which formerly was made the native bark-cloth),

sponges the red rotten stuff on their breasts, saying, "Let no bullet come

here!" Then, led by the doctor, they march in procession to the town.

There he tells the people of the town to try to shoot him, explaining that

he does not wish any one to be in doubt of the efficacy of the charm. As

he leads the procession, he holds the bundle in his hand, shouting, "Budu!

hah! hah! Budu! hah! hah!" The "hah" is uttered with a bold aspiration.

This is to embolden his followers. ("Budu! hah!" does not mean anything;

it is only a yell.) The people are terrified, though he is still shouting

to them to fire at him. He is safe; for he leads the procession to where

is stationed a confederate, who does fire at him point blank from a gun

from which the bullets have been removed. It is a triumph for him! The

crowd see that not only he does not fall dead, but he is not even wounded!

The charm has turned aside the bullets!

The townspeople are then invited to join the procession. They stand up

with the doctor and his crowd, and dance the war-dance. When the dancing

is ended, he takes the bundle and anoints all the townspeople, even the

women and children. And the men go to their war, sure of victory. But the

doctor himself does not go; he remains safely behind, saying that it is

necessary for him to watch the bundle in his house. Defeat in the war is

easily explained by saying that some one in the crowd had spoiled the

charm by not obeying some item in the ritual.

_For Trading._ One method is described to me by a Batanga native who had

seen it used by a certain man of his tribe. This man obtained the head of

a dead person who had been noted for his intelligence. This he kept hidden

in his house, lying in a white basin. To assure himself that it should be

seen by no one else, he built a small hut in the behu (kitchen-garden),

detached from his dwelling, and into which none but himself and wife

should enter. There he kept the head in its basin. When he had occasion to

go to a white man's trading-house to ask for goods or any other favor, he

first poured water into this basin, mixed it with the decomposed brain

that had oozed from the skull, and washed his cheeks in this dirty water.

He also took some brain-matter, mixed it with palm-oil, and rubbed it over

his hands. Then, on his going to the trading-house, when the white man

shakes hands with him and looks on his face, he will be pleased and

generously disposed, and will grant any request made.

My informant told me that when he was a lad he assisted his father in

using another method. His father was intimate with white men, trading

extensively with them in ivory. To increase his credit, he set out to make

a new fetich. He called the son to accompany him to the forest, and handed

him a basket to carry. They searched among the trees until they found two

growing near together, but bent in such a way toward each other that their

trunks crossed in contact, and were rubbed smooth by abrasion; and when

violently rubbing, in a storm, gave out a creaking sound. In that

mysterious sound inhered the fetich power. He chose the trees, not for any

value in their kind, but because of their singular juxtaposition and their

weird sounds. He gathered bark from these trees, and the son carried the

basketful back to their village. The father fixed the time of arrival and

point of entrance so that they should not be seen as they came to their

house. He then went out to the behu (kitchen-garden) and plucked four ripe

plantains (mehole); and gathered leaves of a certain tree, by name "boka."

An earthen pot containing water and pieces of the twin-tree bark was set

over the fire, and into the pot were finely sliced the mehole and the boka

leaves. To these were added a certain kind of fish, by name "hume," a

bottle of palm-oil, gourd seeds, and ground-nuts. All these were

thoroughly boiled together. When they were sufficiently boiled, he lifted

off the pot from the fire, not by his hands, but by clasping its hot sides

with his feet, as he sat on a low stool, and placed it on the ground.

Sitting by it, he held his face over it, with a cloth thrown over his

head, thus inhaling the steam. He remained in this steam bath for about an

hour.

At food time he cut two pieces of leaves from plantains, spread them on

the ground and sat on them, and ate the mess that was in the pot. While

eating, he uttered into the pot adjurations, _e. g._, "Let no one, not

even a Mabeya tribesman, hinder me from the white man's good-will! When I

go some day to make my request to the white man, let him grant it!" When

he had finished eating, he told his son to carry the pot into an inner

room and deposit it in a large box, which the father opened for that

purpose. The pot was not washed; it still contained the remains of the

pottage. He told his son to reveal to no one what they had done.

That very day he heard that his trade friend in the adjacent inferior

Mabeya tribe had obtained an ivory tusk for him. He at once started out

alone to meet his friend on the way, so as to be sure that it would not be

carried to some one else; but not as on other ordinary journeys. He was to

look neither to the right nor to the left (as if watchful of possibly

ambushed enemies), nor to look back, even if called by name; but with eye

straightforward, to walk steadily to the goal. Before starting, he had

rubbed some of the pottage mess on his hand and tongue. On reaching the

Mabeya village, his friend did not hesitate or haggle about the price, but

promptly told him to take the tusk. Before selling it to the white trader,

he scraped some ivory flakes from the outside of the tusk, put them into a

decanter with two bottles of rum (before foreign liquor was known, native

plantain beer was used) and pieces of the twin-tree bark. When

subsequently he had occasion to go to the trading-house, he first drank a

little from this decanter.

Another Bwanga-bwa-Ibâmâ, or trade medicine, is concocted as follows: A

man who decides to make one for himself does not allow any one but his

wife to know what he is about to do. He gathers from the forest leaves of

a tree, by name "kota," the skin of a flying-squirrel (ngunye), from some

dead person the nail from the fourth or little finger (of either hand),

and the tip of the tongue, some drops of his wife's menses, a solution of

red-wood powder, and the long tail-feathers of a forest bird, by name

"kilinga." He then provides himself with an antelope's horn. Having burned

the squirrel skin, he puts its ashes into the horn, mixed with the

above-named articles, including the feather, whose end is allowed to stick

out. Then, with the gum of the okume, or African mahogany tree, he closes

the mouth of the horn, as with a cork, to prevent the liquid contents from

escaping. This horn he suspends by a string from his neck or shoulder

whenever he takes it with him on a journey. He uses it in his trade

dealings with both whites and blacks. Before beginning a bargain or asking

a white trader or another person for gifts of goods, he secretly pulls out

the feather through the soft gum, and rubs a little of the liquid on the

end of his nose. When this fetich is not in use, it is hidden in his

bedroom or other private part of his house. But no one, not even his own

family, is allowed to know where it is kept.

Among the Mpongwe tribes of the equator in West Africa there are trade

medicines that involve actual murder. One of these is called "Okundu."

Like modern spiritualism, it seeks to employ a human medium to communicate

with the dead; but it is unlike spiritualism in that the medium must

actually be killed before he can go on his errand.

In the case of a man who seeks to become wealthy in trade and goes to a

magic doctor for that purpose, the doctor tells him of the different kinds

of medicine, and some of the most important things required for each. The

seeker may choose what he is able and willing to do. For Okundu medicine

it is required that the seeker shall name some one or more of his

relatives who he is willing should die, and that their spirits be sent to

influence white traders or other persons of wealth, and make them

favorably disposed toward the seeker, so that they may employ him in

positions of honor and profit. If the seeker hesitate to do the actual

murder, the doctor, by his black art, is to kill the person nominated and

send him on his errand. If the fear should occur to the seeker that

perhaps the murdered relative, instead of devoting himself in the

spirit-world to the trade interests of his murderer, should attempt to

avenge himself, the subject is dismissed by the doctor's assurance that

either the spirit shall not know that the death of its body was premature,

or that he will overrule it for the desired purpose.

I know, personally, a Mpongwe man still living in Gabun who is believed to

have done this Okundu. He is of prominent family, and had held lucrative

service with white traders. His fortunes began to wane; he fell into debt,

and white men began to doubt him and hesitated to entrust him. Though

wearing the dress of a civilized gentleman, he is a heathen at heart. He

had a little slave boy. The child suddenly and mysteriously disappeared.

Those who asked questions received evasive and contradictory answers. A

very reliable native told me that it was known that this man had been

communicating with an Okundu doctor, and many believed that the child had

been put to death. But no one dared to say anything openly, and there was

not sufficient proof on which to lay an information before the French

governor, only a mile distant.

Another Mpongwe trade medicine is Mbumbu (which means "rainbow"). Old

tradition said that the rainbow was caused by a forest vine which a great

snake had changed to the form of the sun-colored arc. The seeker of wealth

is aided by the doctor to obtain a piece of this rainbow, which he keeps

in secret, and can carry hidden with him. By it he is able at any time to

kill any one of his relatives whom he may choose (of course unknown to

them) and send their spirits off to induce foreign traders to give him a

store of goods (the children's pot of gold at the rainbow's end?).

_For Sickness._ Among the Mpongwe and adjacent tribes there are three

kinds of spirits invoked, according to the character of the disease. These

are Nkinda, Ombwiri, and Olâgâ.

It is clear that these, as explained in a previous chapter, are names of

spirits, but the same names (as in the case of other fetich mixtures) are

given to the medicines in whose preparation they are invoked. But my

informants differed in their opinions whether these names indicate

different kinds of spirits, or only a difference in the functions or works

done by them. One very intelligent and prominent native at first seemed

uncertain, but subsequently said that "Nkinda" indicated the spirits of

the common dead; "Ombwiri" the spirits of distinguished dead, kings, and

other prominent men; and "Olâgâ," a higher class, who had been admitted to

an "angelic" position in the spirit-world. All, however, asserted that all

these are spirits of former human beings. Which kind shall be invoked

depends on the doctor's diagnosis of the disease.

[Illustration: NATIVES TRADING IN PLANTAINS AND BAMBOO BUILDING

MATERIALS.--GABUN.]

Take the case of some one who has been sick with an obscure disease that

has not yielded to ordinary medication: the doctor begins his

incantations with drum and dance and song. This is sometimes kept up all

night, and in minor cases the patient is required to join in these

ceremonies. But in the more mystic Nkinda, Ombwiri, and Olâgâ the sick

person sits still, being required to do so as a part of the diagnosis. For

if after a while the patient shall begin to nod his head violently, it is

a sign that a spirit of some one of these three classes has taken

possession of him. The doctor then takes him to a secret place in the

forest, and asks the spirit what kind it is, and what the nature of the

disease. The reply, though made by the patient, is not supposed to be his,

but the spirit's who is using his mouth. Really the sick, dazed,

submissive patient does not know what he is saying. After this diagnosis

the doctor goes to seek plants suitable for the disease. By chance the

patient may recover. If he does not, the doctor asserts that the spirit

had misinformed him, and the ceremony must be performed again.

One of the physical signs indicating that Olâgâ, rather than Nkinda or

Ombwiri, is the medicine to be used, is vomiting. Hemorrhages from the

lungs would be included in the Olâgâ diagnosis.

"Among the Mashonas of South Africa a 'medicine' used is a small antelope

horn called 'egona,' in which was a mixture of ground-nut oil and a

medicinal bark known as 'unchanya.' The concoction is taken out on the end

of a stick termed 'mutira,' and administered to the patient by dropping it

into his ear. The doctor stated that it was a sure cure for headache.

"Another horn, four inches long, called 'mulimate,' was for the purpose of

cupping and bleeding, and is used in this wise: An incision is made with a

knife into the body, the large end of the horn is placed over the wound;

then a vacuum is formed by the doctor's sucking the air out through an

opening at the little end. The small hole is closed with wax, and the horn

is left until it has become filled with clotted blood. This is the process

of curing rheumatism and other maladies, which are supposed by the

Mashonas to be literally drawn out with the blood. Bleeding is practised

extensively; and I have seen natives bled from arms, legs, body, and head

until they were so exhausted that weeks were required for their recovery.

"Another important instrument was a brush made of a zebra's tail, among

the hairs of which were tied many small roots and herbs possessing various

medicinal properties. One of the remedies was known as 'gwandere,' and,

taken internally, was a sure cure for worms, so the doctor stated. The

brush was called 'muskwa,' this being the name of any animal's tail. The

doctor demonstrated its use by operating upon a man in my presence. He

placed some powdered herbs in a bowl of water, then dipped the brush in,

and sprinkled the patient. Next, he performed several magic evolutions

with the brush around the patient's body, at the same time repeating, 'May

the sickness leave this person!' and so forth. The doctor told me that

after this operation the patient was certain of recovery, unless some

witch or spirit intervened to prevent it or to cause his death."[66]

_For Loving._ Love philtres are common, even among the civilized and

professedly Christian portion of the community. Philtres are both male and

female. If a woman says to herself, "My husband does not love me; I will

make him love me!" or if any woman desires to make any man love her, she

prepares a medicine for that purpose. This charm is called "Iyele." The

process is as follows: First, she scrapes from the sole of her foot some

skin, and lays it carefully aside. Next, when she has occasion to go to

the public latrine at the seaside or on the edge of the forest, she washes

her genitals in a small bowl of water, which she secretly carries to her

house. Then, with a knife, she scrapes a little skin and mucous from the

end of her tongue. These three ingredients she mixes in a bottle of water,

which is to be used in her cooking.

The most attractive native mode of cooking fish and meat is in jomba

("bundle"). The flesh is cut into pieces and laid in layers with salt,

pepper, some crushed oily nut, and a little water. These all are tied up

tightly in several thicknesses of fresh green plantain leaves, and the

bundle is set on a bed of hot coals. The water in the bundle is converted

into steam before the thick fleshy leaves are charred through. The steam,

unable to escape, permeates the fibres of the meat, thoroughly cooking it

without boiling or burning.

When the above-mentioned woman cooks for the man, her husband, or any

other for whom she is making the philtre, the water she uses in the jomba

is taken from that prepared bottle. This jomba she sets before him, and he

eats of it (unaware, of course, of her intention, or of the special mode

of preparation). It is fully believed that the desired effect is

immediate; that, as soon as he has finished eating, all the thoughts of

his heart will be turned toward this woman, and that he will be ready to

comply with any wish of hers. No objection to her, or to what she says,

coming from any other person in the village, male or female, will be

regarded by him.

I know a certain Gabun woman who boasted of her power, by the

above-described means, to cause a certain white man whom she loved (but

who was not her husband) to do anything at all that she bade him.

Also a small portion from that bottle may be poured (secretly) into the

glass of liquor that is to be drunk by a favored guest. This is practised

alike on visitors, white or black.

The process of making a love charm by a man is more elaborate. The

ingredients are more numerous and require more time in their collection.

Having fixed his desire on some woman, he decides in his heart, "I am

going to marry such and such a woman in such and such a village!" But he

keeps his intention entirely secret. He proceeds to make the male charm

called "Ebâbi." (I do not know the origin of this word; it looks as if it

belonged to the adjective "bobâbu" = soft, which is a derivative of the

verb "bâbâkâ," to yield, to consent, to soften.) The first ingredient is

coconut oil, which is poured into a flask made of a small gourd or

calabash. Then, going to the forest, he gathers leaves of the bongâm tree.

Another day he will go again to the forest, and find leaves of the bokadi

tree. Then he plucks some hairs from his arm-pits, and puts them and the

bruised leaves, with some of his own urine, into the flask. This flask he

then suspends from his kitchen roof above the itaka frame or hanging-shelf

that in almost all kitchens is placed above the fire-hearth. It remains

there in the smoke for ten days. Then taking it down, he inserts into it,

tip downward, a long tail-feather of a large bird called "koka." He is

ready then for his experiment. Any day that he chooses to go to seek the

woman, he first draws out the feather, with whatever of the mixture clings

to it, and wipes it on his hands. His hands he then rubs over his face

rapidly and vigorously, saying, "So will I do to that woman!" He must

immediately then start on his journey. This act of anointing his hands and

face must have been his very last act before starting. And there are

several prohibitions. He must have thought beforehand of all things needed

to be done or handled, for after the anointing he must not touch any other

thing. In taking the gourd-flask from above the hanging-shelf he must not

touch the shelf. He must not rub or scratch his head. He must not handle a

broom. He must not shake hands with any one on the path to the woman's

village. All these prohibitions are in order that the anointed mixture may

not be rubbed off, or its effect counteracted by contact with anything

else. When he reaches the woman's village, he goes directly to her, and

clasping her on the shoulder, he rubs his hands downward on her arm,

saying, "You! you woman! I love you!" Instantly the medicine is operative,

and she is willing to go with him.

If it is only a love affair, she goes secretly. If he offers her marriage,

there is first the amicable settlement by the council that is then held by

the woman's family as to the amount of the dowry to be paid for her.

Presents having been given to her by him, the woman goes with the man

without further objection. On reaching his house, he points out to her the

gourd-flask hanging in the kitchen, and tells her, "Let that thing alone."

But he does not inform her what it is; nor does she know or suspect that

it is anything more than an ordinary fetich. Nor does any one else know;

for no one had been allowed to see him perform any part of the several

processes of the ritual in compounding the charm.

_For Fishing._ The prescription for making the fetich for success in

fishing is as follows: Go in the morning early, while the rest of the

villagers are asleep, to an adjacent marsh or pond. (Almost all African

villages are built on or near the bank of some stream or lake.) Find a

place where pond-lilies are growing. Wade into the pond, bend low in the

water, and pluck three lily-pads. There are water-spiders, called

"mbwa-ja-miba" (dogs of the water), generally running over the surface of

the water at such places; catch four of them. Gather also leaves of

another water-plant called "ngâma." All these articles leave in the

village in a safe place. When other fishers come in from the sea, go to

the beach to meet them; and if they have among their catch a certain fish

called "hume," having three spines, beg or buy it. This you are to dry

over the fire. Watch the daily fishing until some one has killed a shark;

obtain its heart, which also is to be dried. Take also a plate full of

gourd seeds (ngândâ) and some ground-nuts (mbenda); also five "fingers" of

unripe plantains cut from the living bunch on the stalk, and a tumblerful

of palm-oil. All these above-named ingredients are to be mixed in one pot

(which must be earthen) and are to be cooked in it. While the mess is

boiling, sit by, face over the pot, in the steam rising from it, and speak

into the pot, "Let me catch fish every day! every day!" No people are to

be present, or to see any of these proceedings. Take the pot off the fire,

not with your hands, but by your feet, and set it on the ground. Take all

your fish-hooks, and hold them in the steam arising from the pot. Take a

banana leaf that is perfect and not torn by wind, and laying it on the

ground, spread out the hooks on it. Then eat the stewed mess, not with a

real spoon, but with a leaf twisted as a spoon. In eating, the inedible

portions, such as fish-bones, skins, rind, and so forth, are not to be

ejected from the mouth on the ground, but must be removed by the fingers

and carefully laid on the banana leaf. Having finished eating, call one of

the village dogs, as if it was to be given liberty to eat the remains of

the mess. As the dog begins to eat, strike it sharply, and as the animal

runs away howling, say, "So! may I strike fish!" Then kick the pot over.

Take the refuse of food from the banana leaf, and the hooks, and lay them

at the foot of the plantain stalk from which the five "fingers" were cut.

Leave the pot lying as it was until night. Then, unseen, take it out into

the village street, and violently dash it to pieces on the ground, saying,

"So! may I kill fish!" It is expected that the villagers shall not hear

the sound of the breaking of the vessel; for it must be done only when

they are believed to be asleep. When the bunch of plantains from which

those fingers were taken ripens, and is finally cut down for food by

others, you are forbidden to eat not only of it, but of the fruit of any

of its shoots that in regular succession, year after year (according to

the manner of bananas and plantains), take the place of the predecessor

stalk. You may never eat of their fruit.

_For Planting._ Planting is done almost entirely by women. If a woman says

to herself, "I want to have plenty of food! I will make medicine for it!"

she proceeds to gather the necessary ingredients. She takes her ukwala

(machete), pavo (knife), short hoe (like a trowel), and elinga (basket),

and goes to the forest. She must go very early in the morning, and alone.

She gathers a leaf called "tube," another called "injenji," the bark

of a tree called "bohamba," the bark also of elâmbâ, and leaves of bokuda.

Hiding them in a safe place, she goes back to her village to get her

earthen pot. Returning with it to the forest, she makes a fire, not with

coals from the village, but with new, clean fire made by the two

fire-sticks. These, used by natives before steel and flint were

introduced, require often an hour's twirling before friction develops

sufficient heat to cause a spark. The sparks are caught on thoroughly

dried plantain fibre. Then she builds her fire. She goes to some spring or

stream for water to put in the pot with the leaves and barks, and sets it

on the fire. All this while she is not to be seen by other people. When

the water has boiled, she sets the pot in the middle of the acre of ground

which she intends to clear for her garden until its contents cool. In the

meanwhile she goes to some creek and gets "chalk" (a white clay is found

in places in the beds of streams). She washes it clean of mud and rubs it

on her breast. Then she takes the pot, and empties its decoction by

sprinkling it, with a bunch of leaves, over the ground, saying, "My

forefathers! now in the land of spirits, give me food! Let me have food

more abundantly than all other people!" Then she again sets the pot in the

middle of the proposed plantation. She takes from it the tube leaves

and puts them into four little cornucopias (ehongo), which she rolls from

another large leaf of the elende tree. She sets these in the four corners

of the garden. Whenever she comes on any other day to work in the garden,

she pulls a succulent plant, squeezes its juice into the ehongo; and this

juice she drops into her eye. To be efficient, this medicine has a

prohibition connected with it, viz., that during the days of her menses

she shall not go to the garden.

When her plants have grown, and she has eaten of them, she must break the

pot. Having done so, she makes a large fire at an end of the garden, and

burns the pieces of earthenware so that they shall be utterly calcined. It

is not required that she shall stay by the fire awaiting that result. She

may, if she wishes, in the meanwhile go back to her village. She takes the

ashes of the pot, mixes them with chalk in a jomba (bundle) of leaves,

which she ties to a tree of her garden in a hidden spot where people will

not see it.

Another strict prohibition is required of her by the medicine, _viz._,

that she is not to steal from another woman's garden. If she break this

law, her own garden will not produce. The jomba is kept for years, or as

long as she plants at that place, and the chalk mixture is rubbed on her

breast at each planting season. From time to time also, as the leaves of

the jomba decay or break away, she puts fresh ones about it, to prevent

the wetting of its contents by raid or its injury in any other way.

CHAPTER XIII

THE FETICH--SUPERSTITION IN CUSTOMS

The observances of fetich worship fade off into the customs and habits of

life by gradations, so that in some of the superstitious beliefs, while

there may be no formal handling of a fetich amulet containing a spirit,

nor actual prayer or sacrifice, nevertheless spiritism is in the thought,

and more or less consciously held.

In our civilization there are thousands of professedly Christian people

who are superstitious in such things as fear of Friday, No. 13, spilled

salt, etc. In my childhood, at Easton, Pa., I was sent on an errand to a

German farmhouse. The kind-hearted Frau was weeding her strawberry bed in

the spring garden-making, and was throwing over the fence into the public

road superfluous runners. I asked permission to pick them up to plant in

my own little garden. She kindly assented, and I thanked her for them,

whereupon she exclaimed, "Ach! nein! nein! Das ist no goot! You say, 'Dank

you'; now it no can grow any more!" I was too young to inquire into the

philosophy of the matter. Surely she would not forbid gratitude. I think

the gist of what she thought my error was, that I had thanked her for what

she considered a worthless thing and had thrown away. I do not think she

would have objected to thanks for anything she valued sufficiently to

offer as a gift.

The difference between my old Pennsylvania-Dutch lady and my "Number 13"

acquaintances, and my African Negro friend is that to the former, while

they are somewhat influenced by their superstition, it is not their God.

To the latter it is the practical and logical application of his religion.

Theirs is a pitiable weakness; his a trusted belief.

It would be impossible to enumerate all the thousands of practices

dominated by the superstitious beliefs of the Bantu,--practices which

sometimes erect themselves into customs and finally obtain almost the

force of law. Many of these are prevalent all over Africa; others are

local.

RULES OF PREGNANCY.

Everywhere are rules of pregnancy which bind both the woman and her

husband. During pregnancy neither of them is permitted to eat the flesh of

any animal which was itself pregnant at the time of its slaughter. Even of

the flesh of a non-pregnant animal there are certain parts--the heart,

liver, and entrails--which may not be eaten by them. It is claimed that to

eat of such food at such a time would make a great deal of trouble for the

unborn infant. During his wife's pregnancy a man may not cut the throat of

any animal nor assist in the butchering of it. A carpenter whose wife is

pregnant must not drive a nail. To do so would close the womb and cause a

difficult labor. He may do all other work belonging to carpentering, but

he must have an assistant to drive the nails.

In my early years on Corisco Island, and while I was expecting to become a

father, I was one day superintending the butchering of a sheep. It was not

necessary that I should actually use the knife; that was done by the cook;

but I stood by to see that the work was done in a cleanly manner, and that

in the flaying the skin should be rolled constantly away, so that the hair

should not touch the flesh. In the dissection I assisted, so that the

flesh should not be defiled by a carelessly wounded entrail. My servant

was amazed, and said my child would be injured. He was still more shocked

when Mrs. Nassau herself came to urge haste and to secure the liver for

dinner.

Among the station employees on Corisco in 1864 was an ex-slave, a recent

convert, whose freedom had been purchased by one of the missionaries. The

native non-Christian freemen begrudged him his position as a mission

employee; for his wages were now his own, and could no longer be claimed

by his former master. Some of his fellow-servants, freemen, put off on

him, as much as they could, the more menial tasks. It was incumbent,

therefore, on the missionaries to see that he was not oppressed by his

fellows. Clearing of the graveyard was a task no one liked to have

assigned to him; and it was often thrown on poor Evosa. One day a newly

arrived missionary, the Rev. George Paull, the noblest of my associates

these forty years, who just then knew little of the language or of native

thought or custom, ordered Evosa to take his hoe and clean the cemetery

path. Evosa bluntly said, "Mba haye!" (I won't). "You won't! You refuse to

obey me?" "Mba haye!" "Then I dismiss you." Evosa went away, much cast

down. Some of his fellow-Christians came to me saying they were sorry for

him, and asked me to interfere. "But," I said, "he should obey; the work

is not hard." "Oh! but he can't do it!" "Why not?" "Because his wife is

pregnant." Immediately I understood. Evosa may not have believed in the

superstition, but for all that, if he did the work and subsequently there

should be anything untoward in his wife's confinement, her relatives would

exact a heavy fine of him. We had not required our converts to disregard

these prohibitions, if only they did not actually engage in any act of

fetich worship. I was careful to say nothing to the natives that would

undermine my missionary brother's authority; but privately I intimated to

Mr. Paull that I thought that if he had been fully aware of the state of

the case, he would not have dismissed the man. He was just, and reversed

the dismissal. Evosa was pardoned also for the bluntness of his refusal;

it was a part of his slavish ignorance. In conclusion, I warned him that

he should have explained to Mr. Paull the ground of his refusal, and

should have asked for other work. He had not supposed that the white man

did not know; and the asking of excuse is a part of politeness that has to

be taught. Almost every new missionary makes unwise or unjust orders and

decisions before he learns on what superstitious grounds he is treading.

Not all are willing to be rectified as was my noble brother Paull.

In the burial of a first-born infant the lid of the coffin is not only not

allowed to be nailed down, but it must not entirely cover the corpse; a

space must be left open (generally above the child's head); the

superstition being that if the coffin be closed, the mother will bear no

more children.

OMENS ON JOURNEYS.

Almost every traveller in Africa, in publishing his story, has much to say

about the difficulties in getting his caravan of porters started on their

daily journey. His detailed account of slowness, disobedience, and

desertions is as monotonous to the reader as they were distressing to

himself. Did he but know it, the fault was often largely his own. The man

of haste and exactitude, that has grown up on railroad time-tables,

demands the impossible of aborigines who never have needed to learn the

value of time. Anglo-Saxon, Teutonic, and even Latin diligence expects too

much of the happy-go-lucky African. The traveller fumes, and frets, and

works himself into a fever. He would gain more in the end if he would

_festina lente_. He would save himself many a quarrel or case of

discipline (for which he earns the reputation of being a hard master; and

for which, further on in the journey, he may be shot by one of his

outraged servants) if he only knew that superstition had met his servant,

as the angel "with his sword drawn" met Balaam's ass, "in a narrow place";

and that servant could no more have dared to go on in the way than could

that wise ass who knew and saw what his angry master did not know.

Mr. R. E. Dennett, for many years a resident in Loango among the Bavili

people, and author of "Seven Years among the Fjort," recognizes this in "A

Few Signs and Omens," contributed recently to a Liverpool weekly journal,

"West Africa." What he says of the Fyât (Fiot) tribes is largely true of

all the other West African tribes. "They have a number of things to take

into consideration, when setting out upon a journey, which may account

for many of those otherwise inexplicable delays which so annoy the white

man at times when anxious to start 'one time' for some place or other.

"The first thing a white man should do is to see that the Negro's fetiches

are all in order; then, when on the way, he must manage things so that the

first person the caravan shall meet shall be a woman; for that is a good

sign, while to meet a man means that something evil is going to happen.

Then, to meet the bird Kna that is all black is a bad sign; while the Kna

that has its wings tipped with white is a good sign.

"The rat Benda running across your path from left to right is good; from

right to left fairly good; should it appear from the left and run ahead in

the direction you are going, 'Oh! that is very good!' but should it run

towards you, well, then the best thing for you to do is to go back; for

you are sure to meet with bad luck!

"See that your men start with their left foot first, and that they are

'high-steppers'; for if their left foot meet with an obstacle, and is not

badly hurt, it is not a bad sign; but if their right foot knocks against

anything, you must go back to town.

"See that you do not meet that nasty brown bird called Mvia, that is

always crying out, 'Via, via'; for that means 'witch-palaver,' and strikes

consternation into your people. Nobody likes to be reminded of his sins or

witch deeds, and be condemned to be burnt in the fire; and that is what

'via' means.

"Then there is that moderately large bird with wings tipped with white

called 'Nxeci,' also reminding one of 'witch-palaver,' and continuously

crying out, 'Ke-e-e,' or 'No.' You had far better not start.

"Take care also to shoot the cukoo o Nkuku before it crosses your path;

for if you allow it to pass, you had better return; it is a bad omen.

"Then, concerning owls: see that your camp at night is not disturbed by

the cry of the Kulu (spirit of the departed), that warns you that one of

you is going to die; or that of the Xi-futu-nkubu, which means that you

may expect some evil shortly. On the other hand, let the Mampaulo-paulo

hoot as much as it likes; for that is a good sign.

"Then look out that the snake Nduma does not cross your path; for that is

a sign of death, or else of warning to you that you should return and see

to the fetich obligations the iron bracelet Ngofu reminds you of. Examine

your men, and ask those who wear the bracelet the following questions:

Have you eaten the flesh of anything (save birds) on the same day that it

was killed? Have you pointed your knife at any one? Did you know your wife

on the Day of Rest (Nsâna, Sunday)? Have you looked upon a woman during a

certain period of the month? Have you eaten those long 'chilli' peppers

instead of confining yourself to the smaller kinds?

"You must send those who have not the bracelet, together with those who

have not been true to ngofu, back to town, to set this 'palaver' right.

Take great care of your fowls, and see that you have no ill-regulated cock

to crow between 6 P. M. and 3 A. M., as that means that there is a palaver

in town to which your men are called, so that it may be settled at once.

"Then, there is that large bird Knakna, whose cry warns your men that

there is something wrong with the fetich Mabili ('the east wind,' on the

gateway at the east entrance to each town), and this knowledge will hang

as a dead weight on all their energies until they have just run back to

town to see what the matter may be.

"Get your men to sleep early, lest they should see the 'falling stars';

for it means that one of their princes is about to die, and that is

disquieting. Then don't let it thunder out of season; for that portends

the death of an important prince.

"And if you determine to go out fishing, and meet the rat Benda (as above

noted), go or not, as the signs command you. If you meet the bird Mbixi

that sings 'luelo-elo-elo,' go on your way rejoicing; or when the little

bird Nxexi, true to nature, sings 'xixexi,' all is well; but when it

sings, 'tietie,' go back, for you will catch nothing.

"Then there is the wild dog Mbulu; well, that must not cross your path at

starting. You laugh? Well, so did Nyambi, the brother of my headman,

Bayona; and what happened? Nyambi had come down from the interior with his

master; and after a short stay was ordered back to his trading post, his

master saying that he would follow him shortly. A friend handed him a son

of his for him to educate, and to attend upon him; in fact, to be his

'boy.' Everything being ready, he set out from Loango; and the first thing

they met on the road was the wild dog. Now Nyambi was a plucky Bantu and

took no notice of this warning, but continued on his way. On reaching the

forest country in Mayomba, the boy entrusted to him ran away. Nyambi, true

to his trust, came after him back to his town, to see that the boy was

once more placed in the care of his father, and so to avoid any further

complications. Then he once more started on his way, and, nearing the

forest country again, was bitten severely on the foot by a snake. He tied

a rag around his leg just under the knee, and another just above his

ankle, and squeezed as much blood as he could from the wound itself. Then

he hobbled into the nearest town, and waited there for assistance from his

family, to whom he had at once despatched a messenger. They sent men and

women to bring him back to Loango, where he arrived in a very weak

condition, and with a fearful sore on his foot,--an awful warning to all

those who will not take the omens sent to them in earnest! What! you still

laugh? Well, there is no hope for you; you are too persistent, and have

not read the story of the rabbit and the antelope, and of the trap laid

for the former.[67] And if you keep on laughing at these superstitions of

the natives, don't blame any one if they call you a 'rabbit,' and refuse

to follow you in your wanderings through their land. Most haste is very

often worst speed in Africa; and the white man who ignores all but

physical difficulties does well to stay his impatient hand when about to

strike his most provoking and apparently dilatory black carrier, who is

beset by endless moral obstacles retarding his progress as no physical

difficulties can."

When I was beginning my pioneering of the Ogowe River in

September-November, 1874, I had with me one Christian coast native. I

completed my canoe's crew with four heathen Galwa, placed myself under the

patronage of the Akele chief Kasa, resided in his village, and bought from

him a site, Belambila, for my mission station, about a mile distant from

him. Daily I went with my crew in the canoe to work at the building of a

temporary house on the Belambila premises. One day a water-snake crossed

the canoe's bow, and I struck at it. The Christian looked serious, and the

four heathen laid down their paddles. It was sufficiently disastrous that

the snake had crossed our path; I had made matters worse by attempting to

injure it. They said, "You should not have done that." "Why?" "Because

somewhere and sometime it will follow us and will bite us. Let us go back

to Kasa's." I refused, and insisted on our proceeding with the day's work.

I might better have yielded to their request. It was as if I were under an

Ancient Mariner's curse. My snake was as bad as his albatross. My men

either could not or would not. Everything went wrong. They worked without

heart and under dread. What they built that day was done with so many

mistakes that I had to tear it down. I did not fully appreciate at that

time, but I do not now think that they were intentionally disobedient or

recalcitrant. Just as well compel a crew of ignorant sailors to start

their voyage on a Friday. The fear of ominous birds and other animals is

over all Africa. In Garenganze, according to Arnot, "many have a

superstitious dread of the horned night-owl. Its cry is considered an evil

omen, which can only be counteracted effectually by possessing a whistle

made out of the windpipe of the same kind of bird.

[Illustration: TRAVELING BY CANOE.--OGOWE RIVER.]

"Jackals, wild dogs, also are very much disliked. The weird cry of one of

these animals will arouse the people of a whole village, who will rush out

and call upon the spirit-possessed animal to be quiet and leave them, or

to come into the village, and they will feed and satisfy it.

"When travelling, they are careful to notice the direction this animal may

take. Should its cry come from the direction in which they are going, they

will not venture a step farther until certain divinations have been

performed that they may learn the nature of the calamity about to befall

them."[68]

The chameleon is an object of dread to all natives wherever I have lived.

I have never met, even among the most civilized, any man or woman who

would touch one. For friendship, or to make a sale, they would bring it to

me at the end of a long stick, in my various efforts at zoölogical and

other collections.

The millepedes they also dread. I handle them with impunity, and my little

daughter, on the Ogowe, in 1888 did so too, under my example. But her

young Negro companions soon made her afraid. True, the adult millepede

ejects a dark liquid which stained my hands and which natives said was

poisonous if taken internally. (That I never tested.)

A native friend, one of my Batanga female church-members, a sincere

Christian, of bright mind but limited education, told me recently (1902)

of her belief in the chameleon as a bad omen. She was visiting relatives a

dozen miles north. Word was sent her to return, as another relative, a

woman in my Bongaheli village, was dangerously ill. Her host told her to

go, and advised her to gather on the way a certain fern, parasitic on

trees, that is used medicinally in the disease of which the woman was

sick. My friend started on her day's journey, came to the tree, and was

about to pluck the ferns when she observed a chameleon clasping the tree;

it stood still and looked at her. She instantly left the tree, abandoned

the ferns, went back to tell her host that a chameleon was in possession

of them and had stared at her, and that it was useless to gather the

medicine, for she was sure their relative was dead. And she resumed her

journey, coming back to Bongaheli in order to attend the mourning. It was

true; the relative was dead, and the mourning had begun. Her belief was

not shaken when I reminded her that that chameleon was only doing just

what all chameleons do when they are not walking, and when confronted by

any one. They all clasp the branch on which they happen to be, and stare

at their supposed pursuer, if unable to escape.

LEOPARD FIENDS.

Formerly a strange superstition said that on him who should kill a leopard

there would come an evil disease, curable only by ruinously expensive

ceremonies of three weeks' duration, under the direction of the Ukuku

(Spirit) Society. So the natives allowed the greatest ravages, until their

sheep, goats, and dogs were swept away; and were aroused to self-defence

only when a human being became the victim of the daring beast. The carcass

of a leopard, or even the bones of one long dead, were not to be touched.

While I was living at Benita, about 1869, the losses by leopards became so

great that, in desperation, some of the braver young men, under my

encouragement, determined that the depredator should be caught. (Nothing

was just then said about what should be done with it when caught.) A trap

was built in one of the villages, and baited with a live goat. Soon a

leopard was entrapped. What to do with it was then the question. Some

favored leaving it alone till they could ask permission of Ukuku to kill

it, even if they had to pay heavily for the permission. Others, who had

heard me laugh at their superstition, proposed that I should be asked to

shoot it. They came at night; I willingly and promptly went with my

Winchester repeating rifle, which could easily be thrust into the chinks

between the logs of which the trap was built. When the animal was shot,

came the question, Who should remove it? None would touch it. Among my

employees were two young men of another tribe with whom that superstition

did not exist. With their aid I lifted the carcass upon a wheelbarrow, and

took it to a place where I could comfortably skin it. Some objected to my

retaining the skin. They wanted the whole animal put out of sight. But the

majority agreed that the skin should be my compensation for my rifle's

service. Then a deputation carefully followed me out on the prairie, to

see that the spot where the skinning was to be done was not near any of

their frequented paths. After the flaying was complete, what was best to

do with the carcass? The majority objected to its being buried, fearing to

tread over its grave. So I sent the two young men in a canoe, to sink the

carcass out in the river's mouth toward the sea. Even then there were

those who for two weeks afterward would eat no fish caught in the river.

With this fear of the leopard was united a superstition similar to that of

the "wehr-wolf" of Germany, _viz._, a belief in the power of human

metamorphosis into a leopard. The natives had learned, from foreigners who

were ignorant of the fact that there are no tigers in Africa, to call this

leopard fiend a "man-tiger." They got their fears still more mixed by a

belief in a third superstition, _viz._, that sometimes the dead returned

to life and committed depredations. This belief was not simply that

disembodied spirits (mekuku) returned, but that the entire person, soul

and body (ilina na nyolo), rose temporarily from the grave, with a few

changes (among the rest, that the feet were webbed). Such a being, as

mentioned in a previous chapter, was called "Uvengwa." At one time, while

I was at Benito, intense excitement prevailed in the community: doors and

shutters were violently rattled at night; marks of leopard's claws

scratched doorposts; their tracks lay on every path; women and children in

lonely places saw their flitting forms, in the dark were knocked down by

their spring, or heard their growl in the thickets. It was difficult to

decide, in hearing these reports, whether it was a real leopard, a leopard

fiend, or only an uvengwa. To native fear, they were practically the same.

I felt certain that the uvengwa was a thief disguised in a leopard skin.

Under such disguise murders were sometimes committed. By bending my thumb

and fingers into a semi-closed fist, I could make an impression in the

sand that exactly resembled a leopard's track; and this confirmed my

conclusions as to the real cause of the phenomenon.

The pioneer of the Gabun Mission, Rev. Dr. J. L. Wilson, in 1842, found

the wehr-wolf superstition prevalent among all the tribes of Southern

Guinea. The leopard "is invested with more terror than it otherwise would

have, by a superstitious apprehension on the part of the natives, that

wicked men frequently metamorphose themselves into leopards and commit all

sorts of depredations, without the liability or possibility of being

killed. The real leopard is emboldened by impunity, and often becomes a

terrible scourge to the village he infests. I have known large villages to

be abandoned by their inhabitants, because they were afraid to attack

these animals on account of their supposed supernatural powers."

At Gabun, about 1865, there still remained a jungle on one side of the

public road that constituted the one street of the town of Libreville, as

it followed the curve of the bay for three miles. There were frequent

alarms and occasional murders along lonely parts of that road. The natives

believed that the leopard fiend was a beast; the French commandant

believed it was a human being. He had the jungle cut away. Since then, no

mangled bodies have been found there.

Among the Garenganze people, in 1884, Mr. Arnot often chid them "for their

want of bravery in not hunting down the many wild animals that prey around

their towns, carrying off the sick people, and frequently attacking and

seizing solitary strangers. They excused themselves by explaining that

these wild animals are really 'men of other tribes,' turned, by the magic

power they possess, into the form of lions, panthers, or leopards, who

prowl about to take vengeance on those against whom they are embittered.

In defending this absurd theory, one man said it was not possible for a

Luba and a Lamba man to go out into the country together without one

stealing a march on his neighbor, getting out of sight, and returning

again in the form of a lion or leopard, and devouring his travelling

companion. Such things, they say, are of daily occurrence amongst them;

and this foolish superstition leads them not only to tolerate the wild

animals about, but almost to hold them sacred."

This particular superstition still exists extensively. As late as 1898, it

is stated of the Barotse of Southeast Africa: "They believe that at times

both living and dead persons can change themselves into animals, either to

execute some vengeance or to procure something that they wish for: thus a

man will change himself into a hyena or a lion in order to steal a sheep,

and make a good meal off it; into a serpent, to avenge himself on some

enemy. At other times, if they see a serpent, it is one of the 'Matotela'

or slave tribe, which has thus transformed himself to take some vengeance

on the Barotse."[69]

LUCK.

There exists a custom, even among the civilized, for the seller of an

article to hold back a small portion after his price has been paid. When I

first met with this custom, I was indignant at what seemed like stealing;

and yet it was so open, and without any attempt at concealment, that I was

amazed. One who brought for sale a bunch of plantains twisted off and took

away one of its "fingers." Another who had just been paid for a peck of

sweet potatoes deliberately picks off one tuber. Another who brought a

gazelle for sale would not complete the bargain till I had consented that

he might remove the gall-bladder and a portion of the liver. I learned

that all these were for "luck": in order that the garden whence came that

plantain bunch or potato should be blessed with abundance; and the

hunter, that he might be successful in his next hunt. The gazelle is

credited with being a very artful animal, the cunning being located

especially in the liver.

One might ask why, if those pieces are so needed for luck, the owner did

not take them before selling, and while they were still his own and under

his entire control. I do not know their exact thought; but the statement

was that the chances of good luck were greater if the pieces of plantain,

potato, meat, etc. were abstracted after the article had actually passed

out of the seller's possession.

On the Ogowe, at Lake Azyingo, in 1874, I was present at the cutting up of

a female hippopotamus which a hunter had killed the night before. By favor

of the native Ajumba chief, Anege, I was allowed to see the ceremonies.

They were many; of most of them I did not understand the significance; and

the people were loath to tell me, lest I should in some way counteract

them. Even my presence was objected to by the mother of the hunter (he,

however, was willing).

After the animal had been decapitated, and its quarters and bowels

removed, the hunter, naked, stepped into the hollow of the ribs, and

kneeling in the bloody pool contained in that hollow, bathed his entire

body with that mixture of blood and excreta, at the same time praying the

life-spirit of the hippo that it would bear him no ill-will for having

killed it, and thus cut it off from future maternity; and not to incense

other hippopotami that they should attack his canoe in revenge. (Hippos

are amphibians, but are generally killed in the water.) He kept choice

parts of the flesh to incorporate into his luck fetich.

Mr. Arnot mentions the same custom in Garenganze: "One morning I shot a

hyena in my yard. The chief sent up one of his executioners to cut off its

nose and the tip of its tail, and to extract a little bit of brain from

the skull. The man informed me that these parts are very serviceable to

elephant hunters, as securing for them the cunning, tact, and power to

become invisible, which the hyena is supposed to possess. I suppose that

the brain would represent the cunning, the nose the tact, and the tip of

the tail the vanishing quality." The stomach of the hyena is valued by the

Ovimbundu (of Southwest Africa) as a cure for apoplexy.

TWINS.

Mr. Arnot states that in Garenganze "cases of infanticide are very rare.

Twins, strange to say, are not only allowed to live, but the people

delight in them." Though they are not regarded as monstrosities deserving

death, as among the Calabar people on the West Coast, it is nevertheless

considered necessary that certain preservative ceremonies should be

performed on the infants and their parents.

Mr. Swan, an associate of Mr. Arnot, describes a ceremony he was

unexpectedly made to share in while on a visit to the native king Msidi:

"My attention was drawn to a crowd of folk, mostly women, who approached,

singing and ringing a kind of bell. They formed in lines opposite to us.

In front of the rest were a man and woman, each holding a child not more

than a few days old. I learned that the little ones were twins, the man

and woman holding them being the happy parents, who had come to present

their offspring to the king. They wore nothing but a few leaves about

their loins,--a hint to Msidi, I suppose, that they would like some cloth.

"After chanting a little, an elderly woman came forward, with a dish in

her left hand and an antelope's tail in her right. When she reached Msidi,

I was astonished at her dipping the tail in the dish and dashing the

liquid over his face. Msidi's wife had a like dose. But my surprise

increased when she came to us and gave us a share. What was in the dish I

cannot say, but it struck me as possessing a very disagreeable odor. This

discourteous creature was the Ocimbanda (fetich doctor). She did not cease

her dousing work till she had favored all sitting around. The king then

went into the house, and his wife came out with some cloth, which she

tied around the mother's waist; and then a piece of cloth was given to the

husband. The friends had brought some native beer; and when Msidi came

out, he went to one of the pots, filled his mouth, spouting the beer in

his wife's face; she did the same to him, after which the spouting became

general.... They told me it was their custom to act thus when twins are

born."

In the Benga tribe, thirty-five years ago, I observed that if one of a

pair of twins died, a wooden image was substituted for it on the bed or in

the cradle-box, alongside of the living child. I strongly suspected

Animism in the custom; but some Christians explained that the image was

only a toy, so that the living babe should not miss the presence of an

object resembling its mate.

Names of twins are always the same, in the same cognate tribes. In Benga

they are always Ivaha (a wish) and Ayenwe (unseen). These names are

given irrespective of sex. But not every man or woman whom one may meet

with these names is necessarily a twin. They may have inherited the name

from ancestors who were twins.

All over Africa the birth of twins is a notable event, but noted for very

different reasons in different parts of the country. In Calabar they are

dreaded as an evil omen, and until recently were immediately put to death,

and the mother driven from the village to live alone in the forest as a

punishment for having brought this evil on her people.

In other parts, as in the Gabun country, where they are welcomed, it is

nevertheless considered necessary to have special ceremonies performed for

the safety of their lives, or, if they die, to prevent further evil.

In the Egba tribes of the Yoruba country they become objects of worship.

As in other parts of Africa where twins are preserved, they are given twin

names; which, of course, differ in different languages. Among the Egbas

the first-born is Taiwo, _i. e._, "the first to taste the world," and the

other Kehende, _i. e._, "the one who comes last."[70] About eight days

after their birth, or as soon as the parents have the money for the

sacrificial feast, they invite all relatives on both sides, neighbors and

friends together. Various kinds of food are prepared, consisting chiefly

of beans and yams. A little of each kind of food is set apart with some

palm-oil thrown upon it, and the small native plates or basins containing

it are set before the children in their cradle. They are then invoked to

protect their mother from sickness, to pity their parents and remain with

them, to watch over them at all times. I quote in this connection the

following from a West African newspaper:

"After the ceremony an elderly man or woman who has been a twin is called

upon to split the kola nuts, in order to find out whether the children

will live or die. This is their way of asking the god or goddess to answer

their requests (and it is singular that this throwing of kolas may be done

repeatedly until the reply is favorable to the inquirer). Thus: if a kola

nut is split into four parts in throwing it down, they say, "You Idol,

please foretell if the children will live long or die." If all the four

pieces of the kola fall flat on their backs, or all flat with their faces

to the ground, or if two of them fall with their faces downward and the

other two upward, then in each of those cases the reply is favorable, and

it means they will live long and not die. But if three pieces of the kola

should turn their faces to the ground and only one fall flat on its back,

or if the three pieces should turn their faces upward and only one

downward, the reply is unfavorable, and it means that the children will

die before long. In such cases they continue throwing the kola nut

indefinitely until they obtain their wish; or, in rare cases of total

failure, the subject of inquiry is reserved till a future time, when they

hope the idol may speak more favorably. Thus, twin children are worshipped

every month.

"In some cases, where the parents have the means, an invitation goes round

to as many twins as they can get to partake of the sacrificial feasts. Of

course, the people enjoy themselves at the feast.

"The twins have everything in common; they eat the same kind of food and

wear the same dress. If one of them should die, the mother is bound to

make a wooden image to represent the dead child. This kind of image is

generally about a foot in length, and is made of Ire wood, which is

flexible and durable. It is carved in such a manner as to represent the

human anatomy."

These images, substitute for a dead twin, are used very extensively among

all the tribes of Africa. Various reasons are given for their use: that

the surviving twin shall not be lonely; that the departed one may be sure

it is not forgotten; and other reasons. The images are retained as family

fetiches, to ward off evil from the mother.

"If both children should die, the mother must have two wooden images, and

regard them as her living children; she worships them every morning by

splitting kola nuts and throwing down a few drops of palm-oil before them.

Of course, the occasional feasts follow in their due course, and as

oftentimes as she may happen to see them in her dreams.

"If they should live, and both are males, they make engagements and marry

at the same time. If one is male, and the other is female, their dowry

must be given the same day; the parents believe that if things done for

them are not alike or do not go together, one will soon die."[71]

CUSTOMS OF SPEECH.

Superstition mingles in customs of speech. There is the custom of Kombo,

existing to-day. Something about the act of sneezing is considered

uncanny. A phrase or a cabalistic word, intended as an adjuration or a

protestation in the nature of a prayer for protection or blessing, is very

commonly ejaculated by one who sneezes and sometimes when one stumbles.

(In the old despotic days of native kings, in the Benito region, if a

king, on first emerging from his house in the morning, should happen to

stumble, he would order the nearest person in sight to be killed.) That

word is uttered by an adult for himself, by a parent or other relative

for an infant child. It may be an archaism whose meaning has been

forgotten. Generally the Kombo is an epigrammatic phrase invented by the

individual himself, and to be used only by him.

Sometimes, instead of a phrase, the single word "Kombo!" as representing

the custom, is uttered.

Some forty years ago the ejaculation, before the invariable "Mbolo"

salutation was uttered, that was used by visitors to the Mpongwe king on

the south side of the Gabun estuary, was, "What evil law has God made?"

The response was, "Death!" Little as the heathen natives liked to talk of

death, their use of that word to their king was in the nature of a good

wish that he might escape the universal law. And the "Mbolo!" (gray hairs)

that followed was a wish that he might live to have gray hairs.

His son, an educated man and a nominal Romanist, is now saluted quite as

formally, but the ejaculation has been changed to a more respectful and

Christian recognition of God.

OATHS.

Blasphemy of the Divine name, so fearfully common in professedly Christian

countries, is almost unknown to the African heathen. Though the native

name for God, Anyambe, is improperly used in names of persons (which is

not intended for disrespect), it is not often actually blasphemed. An

equivalent blasphemy, is occasionally practised in the misuse of the name

of their great and sacred spirit-society. In the Benga tribe "Saba?" and

"Sabali?" used interrogatively, mean only "True?" "Is that so?"; but, used

positively, they are of the nature of an oath, especially when the

society's name (Ukuk) was added: "Saba n' Ukuku" (True! by Ukuk!).

On the Ogowe River, in the Galwa tribe, the name of that society was

Isyoga, more commonly spoken of as Yasi. In the initiation into it the

neophytes were taught a long and very solemn adjuration, that could be

uttered only among the initiated, as an oath; but they were allowed

commonly to use simply its title "Yasi," the utterance of that one word

being accompanied by a downward sweep of the right hand over the left arm

from shoulder to hand. It was not permitted to women to speak this word.

In no tribes with which I have lived was this "By-the-Spirit" oath used so

much as among the Galwa of the Ogowe. It became monotonously frequent, in

and out of season, in all conversations and on the slightest assertion or

the simplest excitement.

I became very tired of "Yasi! Yasi! Yasi!" and that sweep of the right

hand, for the doing of which the canoe paddle or a tool was laid down.

And, by the way, the more of a liar a man was, the more frequent and

vociferous was he in his persistent use of "By Yasi!"

TOTEM WORSHIP.

Totem worship is found in Africa, though nothing at all to the extent to

which it existed among the Indian tribes of the United States, and

especially Alaska.

In Southern Africa it exists among the Bechuanas (who, however, are not

pure Bantu); not in the form of carving and setting up poles in their

villages, but in the respect which different clans give to certain

animals, _e. g._, one clan being known as "buffalo-men," another as

"lion-men," a third as "crocodile-men," and so forth. To each clan its

totem animal is sacred, and they will not eat of its flesh. In some parts

this sanctity is regarded as so great that actual prayer and sacrifice are

made to it. But in most of the Bantu tribes this totem idea does not exist

as a worship. Indeed, the animal (or part of an animal) is not sacred to

an entire clan, but only to individuals, for whom it is chosen on some

special occasion; and its use is prohibited only to that individual. Only

in the sense that it may not be used for common purposes is it "sacred" or

"holy" to him.

TABOO.

"Taboo" is a Polynesian term, and indicates that which man must not touch

because it belongs to a deity. The god's land must not be trodden, the

animal dedicated to the god must not be eaten, the chief who represents

the god must not be lightly treated or spoken of. These are examples of

taboo where the inviolable object or person belongs to a good god, and

where the taboo corresponds exactly with the rule of holiness. But

instances are still more numerous, among savages, of taboo attaching to an

object because it is connected with a malignant power. The savage is

surrounded on every side by such prohibitions; there is danger at every

step that he may touch on what is forbidden to him, and draw down on

himself unforeseen penalties.[72]

This idea exists very largely in the Gabun and Loango coasts: as described

in a previous chapter, the custom is there called "orunda"; _e. g._, such

and such an animal (or part of an animal) is "orunda," or taboo, to such

and such a person.

The Portuguese Roman Catholic missionaries to the Kingdom of Kongo, more

than two hundred and fifty years ago, found this custom "of interdicting

to every person at their birth some one article of food, which they were

not through life, upon any consideration, to put into their mouths. This

practice was regarded [by those Roman Catholic priests] as specially

heathenish, and was unconditionally" forbidden.

Explanation may here be found why a church which two hundred years ago had

baptized members by the hundreds of thousands, with large churches, fine

cathedrals, schools, colleges, and political backing, and no other form of

Christianity to compete with it, shows in Kongo to-day no results in the

matters of civilization, education, morality, or pure religion. Its

baptism was only an outward one, the heathen native gladly accepting it as

a powerful charm. For each and all his heathen fetiches the priest simply

substituted a Roman Catholic relic. The ignorant African, while he learned

to bow to the Virgin, kept on worshipping also fetich. The Virgin was only

just another fetich. The Roman Catholic priests were to him only another

set of powerful fetich doctors. They commanded that, instead of the

orunda, "the parents should enjoin their children to observe some

particular devotion, such as to repeat many times a day the rosary or the

crown, in honor of the Virgin; to fast on Saturdays; to eat no flesh on

Wednesdays; and such other things as are used among Christians."

A similar substitution was made in the case of a superstition of the Kongo

country which exists universally among all African tribes to-day, _viz._,

"to bind a cord of some kind around the body of every new-born infant, to

which were fastened the bones and teeth of certain kinds of wild animals."

In place of this, the Roman Catholic records enjoin "that all mothers

should make the cords with which they bound their infants, of palm-leaves

that had been consecrated on Palm Sunday, and, moreover, guard them well

with other such relics as we are accustomed to use at the time of

baptism."

Thus the heathen, in becoming a baptized "Christian," left behind him only

the name of his fetich ceremonies. Some new and professedly more powerful

ones were given him, which were called by Christian names, but which very

much resembled what he had been using all his life. His "conversion"

caused no jar to his old beliefs, nor change in its practice, except that

the new fetich was worshipped in a cathedral and before a bedizened altar.

BAPTISM.

Forty years ago, on Corisco Island, I found the remains of a custom which

resembled baptism.[73] Before that time it was very prevalent in other

parts of the Gabun country, whose people probably had derived it, like

their circumcision, from East Africa and from Jewish traditions. As

described at that time, "a public crier announces the birth, and claims

for the child a name and place among the living. Some one else, in a

distant part of the village, acknowledges the fact, and promises, on the

part of the people, that the new-born babe shall be received into the

community, and have all the rights and immunities pertaining to the rest

of the people. The population then assemble in the street, and the

new-born babe is brought out and exposed to public view. A basin of water

is provided, and the headman of the village or family sprinkles water upon

it, giving it a name, and invoking a blessing upon it, such as, that it

may have health, grow up to manhood or womanhood, have a numerous progeny,

possess much riches, etc."[74] The circumcision of the child is performed

some years later.

SPITTING.

The same Benga word, "tuwaka," to spit, is one of the two words which mean

also "to bless." In pronouncing a blessing there is a violent expulsion of

breath, the hand or head of the one blessed being held so near the face of

the one blessing that sometimes in the act spittle is actually expelled

upon him.

This blessing superstition exists among the Barotse of South Africa (whose

dialect is remarkably like the Benga). "Relatives take leave of each other

with elaborate ceremony. They spit upon each other's faces and heads, or,

rather, pretend to do so, for they do not actually emit saliva. They also

pick up blades of grass, spit upon them, and stick them about the beloved

head. They also spit on the hands: all this is done to warn off evil

spirits. Spittle also acts as a kind of taboo. When they do not want a

thing touched, they spit on straws, and stick them all about the

object."[75]

NOTICE OF CHILDREN.

Recently (1903), in passing through a street of Libreville, I saw several

women sitting on the clay floor of the wide veranda of a house. In their

arms or playing on the ground were a number of children. I was attracted

by their gambols, and stopped on my way, and having saluted the mothers, I

began to notice the children. The women knew me by sight, but I was a

stranger to most of them. I thought they would be pleased by attention to

their children. There were seven of them; and I exclaimed, "Oh! so many

children!" And I began counting them, "One, two, three, four--" But I was

interrupted by a chorus from the mothers, of "No! no! no! Stop! That is

not good! The spirits will hear you telling how many there are, and they

will come and take some away!" They were quite vexed at me. But I could

not understand why, if spirits can see, they would not know the number

without hearing my count. Perhaps my enthusiastic counting brought the

number more obviously to the attention of the surrounding spirits.

CHAPTER XIV

FETICH--ITS RELATION TO THE FUTURE LIFE--CEREMONIES AT DEATHS AND FUNERALS

When a heathen Negro is sick, the first thing done, just as in civilized

lands, is to call the "doctor," who is to find out what is the particular

kind of spirit that, by invading the patient's body, has caused the

sickness.

This diagnosis is not made by an examination and comparison of the

physical and mental symptoms, but by drum, dance, frenzied song, mirror,

fumes of drugs, consultation of relics, and conversation with the spirit

itself. Next, as also in civilized lands, must be decided the ceremony

particular to that spirit, and the vegetable and mineral substances

supposed to be either pleasing or offensive to it. If all those cannot be

obtained, the patient must die; the assumption probably being that some

unknown person is antagonizing the "doctor" with arts of sorcery.

Fearing this, all the family relatives and friends come, having been

informed by a messenger of the state of the case. They speak to and try to

comfort the sick, as would be done in civilization. But to believers in

fetich their coming means more than that. They have come from distant

places as soon as the news had spread that their relative was seriously

ill, without waiting for summons. Their coming is, indeed, a necessary

mark of respect for the sick; but it may happen, too, in case of the sick

man's dying, that it would be a proof for them of their innocence if a

charge should come up of witchcraft as the cause of death. The neglect to

make this prompt visit of condolence would be resented by the sick should

he recover, or, in case of his death, in the days when witchcraft arts

were more common, would have been held as a proof that the absentee had

purposely absented himself, under a sense of guilt.

In the sick man's village there already has been a slight wailing the

while that he is dying. Before life is extinct, and while yet the sick may

still be conscious though speechless, a low wail of mourning is raised by

the female relatives who have gathered in the room.

These visitors have sat quietly in the sick-room while the patient was

still conscious. To a foreigner that quiet is very strange in its

oppressive silence and in the stolidity of faces (at other times

expressive), whose very reason for being present is supposed to be the

expression of sympathy. Only a few assist in the making of food or

medicine for the patient, even when the medicines are not fetich. All the

others are spectators, smoking, lounging, dozing, or, if conversing,

speaking in a low tone. At the first report that death has actually come,

the women break into a louder wail.

But about a quarter of an hour is spent by some of the old members of the

family, testing to see whether life is really extinct. When that fact is

fully certified to the crowd in the street, the wailing breaks forth

unrestrainedly from men, women, and children. The moment that death is

declared, grief is demonstrated in screams, shrieks, yells, pitiful

supplication, and extravagant praise by the entire village.

Shortly after this first frantic outburst quiet is ordered, and the

arrangements for burial begin. The body is bathed and the limbs are

straightened. The stomach is squeezed so as to make the contents emerge

from the mouth in order that decomposition may be delayed and the body

kept as long as possible. The time will vary according to the necessity of

the case and the social position of the dead. Usually the corpse is

retained only one day; but in case of a prominent person as many as five

days, and in case of kings in some tribes, _e. g._, of Loango, the rotting

corpse, rolled in many pieces of matting, is retained for weeks.

When the washing and vomiting have been done, the corpse is dressed in its

finest clothing. The bed-frame is often enlarged so that many of the

chief mourners may be able to sit on it.

The body is generally taken from the bed and laid on a piece of matting on

the floor. The chief female mourner is given the post of honor, to sit

nearest to the dead, holding the head in her lap.

During the time until the burial the women keep bending the joints of the

corpse to prevent the body becoming stiff. The day before the burial (but

if in haste, on the very day of the death) the coffin is made. During the

making the mourning which had been resumed is again bidden to cease, in

order that the spirit may be pleased with the wooden house that is being

constructed for it. For the same reason the wailing is again intermitted

while the grave is being dug. Those who are digging it must not be called

off or interrupted in any way. When begun, the job must be continued to

completion.

After the grave is completed, when they leave it and go to arrange the

coffin, they must put into the excavation some article, _e. g._, a stick

of wood, as a notice to any other wandering spirit not to occupy that

grave.

When all these preparations are complete, the corpse is laid in the

coffin, and some goods of the deceased, such as pieces of cloth and other

clothing, are stuffed into it for his use in the other world. If the

deceased was addicted to smoking, a pipe and tobacco are laid in the

coffin, or if accustomed to spirituous drink, some liquor is often placed

there, either native palm-wine or foreign rum.

Recently, while the Rev. F. S. Myongo, a native clergyman, was visiting on

Corisco Island, he saw a mother put into a coffin a bundle of salt for her

daughter to eat in the future world.

If the deceased was a rich man, the people of his mother's side do not

allow him to be buried without their first being given a part of his

property by the people of the father's side.

If there be a suspicion that he has been killed by witchcraft, and yet not

enough proof to warrant a public charge and investigation, the relatives

take amomum seeds (cardamom), chew them, and put them into the mouth of

the dead, as a sign that the spirit shall itself execute vengeance on the

murderer, and that the survivors will take no further steps. It is a

_nolle prosequi_ of a judicial case.

All being ready, the lid of the coffin is nailed down, except in the case

of a first-born only child, as has been stated.

In former days, before coffins were used, the bamboo tatta of the

bed-frame, the pandanus leaf mat, palm-fibre mosquito-net, and other

bedding were all rolled about the corpse as it lay, and were buried with

it.

While the corpse is being arranged in the coffin, the women have resumed

their wailing. The coffin is lifted by strong men and hurriedly taken to

the grave, the locality of which varies in different tribes,--sometimes in

the adjacent forest, sometimes in the kitchen-garden of plantains

immediately in the rear of the village houses, sometimes under the clay

floor of the dwelling-house. With the men who are carrying the coffin may

go some women as witnesses.

Formerly also slaves carried boxes of the dead man's goods, cloth,

hardware, crockery, and so forth, to be laid by the body, which in those

days was not interred, but was left on the top of the ground covered with

branches and leaves.

In carrying the coffin to the grave it must not be taken through the

village street but by the rear of the houses, lest the village be

"defiled." As a result of such "defilement," all sorts of difficulties

will arise, such as poor crops from the gardens and short supplies of

fish.

The coffin is laid with the face of the dead looking eastward. During the

interment people must not be moving about from place to place, but must

remain at whatever spot they were when the coffin passed, until the burial

is completed.

The digging of the grave, the carrying of the coffin, and the closing of

the grave are all done only by men. When these have finished the work of

burial, they are in great fear, and are to run rapidly to their village,

or to the nearest body of water, river or lake or sea. If in their running

one should trip and fall, it is a sign that he will soon die. They plunge

into the water as a means of "purification" from possible defilement. The

object of this purification is not simply to cleanse the body, but to

remove the presence or contact of the spirit of the dead man or of any

other spirit of possible evil influence, lest they should have ill-luck in

their fishing, hunting, and other work.

During the time of these burial and other ceremonies the women have

refrained from their mourning.

Women who have babes must not go along the route that was taken in the

carrying of the coffin, lest their children shall become sick.

When all parties have returned from the grave, the wailing is resumed.

They all mark their faces with ashes, and then begins the regular official

kwedi (mourning). During the continuance of this, pregnant women and

mothers with young children are not allowed to come near lest evil happen

to them. To prevent any possibility of the just-departed spirit injuring

any children of the village, leaves of a common weed, kâlâkâhi, are laid

on their heads.

The day after the funeral a decoction is made of the bark of a well-known

tree, bolondo. With it the doctor sprinkles the people, their houses,

their utensils and weapons, and the two entrances to the village. During

the ceremony the people are shouting an ejaculatory prayer, "Goods!

Possessions! Wealth! Do not allow confusions to come to us!" this is

distinctly a petition that the spirit should bring to them goods or help

them to obtain wealth; "Let us have food!" and many other similar cries

for good things. What remains in the vessel of the decoction of bolondo

bark after the general sprinkling is carried to the ends of the village

street, and emptied there, as a prevention against the entry of evil

spirits.

Also there is made a mixture of scrapings of bolondo, powdered red-wood,

and chalk. This is rubbed on the cheeks of the people to keep off the evil

spirits. It is rubbed also, for that same purpose, on the walls of

houses.

The cutlass (machete) and native hoe that was used in the digging of the

grave are washed with the bolondo decoction after having been left exposed

to rain over night.

Then one of the houses of the village is chosen as the ndabo ya kwedi

(house of mourning). The mourners are to sit only in that house. If they

should eat in any other house, the spirit of the dead would come and eat

with them and would make them sick. During the days of kwedi the men go in

the mornings to fish; while they are away at the work, the weeping is

intermitted lest in some way it spoil the fishing.

The bedstead in the house of mourning must be constantly occupied, even

during the daytime, by some persons sitting there, lest the spirit come to

take any vacant space; and the house itself must not, by day or night, be

without some occupant. The near relatives, when one has occasion to go out

of that house, must not go unaccompanied, lest the spirit follow them and

attempt to resume earthly companionship and thus injure them.

If it was a great man who has died, an occasional dance is held during the

prescribed mourning time to please his spirit, which is supposed to be

walking around and observing what is done.

The kwedi formerly lasted a month, or, for a prominent person, a month and

a half.

People who while they were living were supposed to have witch power are

believed to be able to rise in an altered form from their graves. To

prevent one who is thus suspected from making trouble, survivors open the

grave, cut off the head, and throw it into the sea,--or in the interior,

where there is no great body of water, it is burned; then a decoction of

the bolondo bark is put into the grave. (The bolondo is a poison; even a

little of it may be fatal.)

When affairs are going wrong in the villages, and the people do not know

the cause, offerings of food and drink are taken to the grave to cause the

spirit to cease disturbing them, and prayers are made to it that it may

the rather bless them.

If the deceased was a very important person, the kwedi is interrupted on

the fifth day, for the selection of his successor as chief or king. This

ceremony is called "ampenda" (glories). The successor is placed on the

vacant seat or "throne"; and songs are sung in his praise. But first, a

herald is sent to the forest, or wherever the burial was made, to call the

dead to come and dispute his right to the throne, if he be not really

dead. The herald stands and calls on the dead by name, "Such an one!" This

he does slowly once, twice, thrice, until five times. He returns, and

reports to the waiting assembly, "He is really dead. I called five times,

and he did not answer." Then, this herald, standing in the street before

all the people, praises the dead for all his good deeds, and blames for

some of his bad ones. He turns to the chosen successor sitting on the

throne, and asks pardon for the candor he is about to exercise: "To-morrow

I will bow to you and take off my hat, but to-day I will tell the whole

truth about you." Turning to the crowd, he says, "The man who is gone was

good, and he has given us this new man. We hope that he too will be good.

You all help me now to tell him his bad points." Then, addressing the new

chief, he specifies, "You have a bad habit of so and so." And the crowd

responds affirmatively, "Bad! cease it!" After this, when the herald has

ended his own list of rebukes, any one else may call him aside and tell

him of any other evil of which he knows, and ask him to direct the new

king to reform it. This ceremony was particularly observed by the

Mpongwe-speaking tribes of the Gabun country. In the presence of the

domination by foreign governments, but little of it now exists there or in

any other tribes to the north.

In the improvised songs and ejaculations of the kwedi period the goodness

and greatness of the dead are recounted. The praise is fulsome,

exaggerated, and often preposterously untrue. Some declare their

hopelessness of ever again seeing any joy. Supplications are shrieked by

others for the departed to come back and reanimate the dead body. By most

the wailing is a song in moans. Men tear their garments; women dishevel

their hair; all take off their ornaments, and disfigure their faces with

ashes or clay. The female relatives reduce their clothing to a minimum of

decency. In all tribes formerly, and in some interior tribes still, the

wives are made naked, and compelled to remain so for months, especially if

they were known not to have been as submissive as is expected in the

slavery of savage African marriage.

During my early days in the Ogowe, about 1876, a native Akele chief, Kasa,

who had been my patron at my first residence in the Ogowe, Belambila, died

after I had removed to my second station, Kângwe. I made a ceremonious

visit of respect and condolence about a month after his death, for Kasa,

though a heathen and often cruel, to me had been true and helpful. His

family appreciated the compliment of my visit. I looked around the room,

and missed his wives. I did not know that they had been divested of all

clothing. I asked for them. A man hastened to go out and call them. I

wondered somewhat at the delay in their coming. I was afterward told that

though they were accustomed to the disgrace of nakedness before native

eyes, they did not wish to meet mine, for I had always treated them

respectfully. A half-dozen of them sidled into the room, each carrying in

their hands, as their only protection, a plate, and quickly huddled

together in a corner of the room. I as quickly dismissed them, telling

them I had not known of the rule under which they were living.

In the Batanga interior, among the Bulu-Fang tribe, where women at all

times wear scarcely any clothing, most widows are still required to go

perfectly naked, sometimes for a whole year.

All this wailing and mourning, while sincere on the part of some, is by

most simply a yielding to the contagion of sympathy. By some it is a mere

formality, and with many even a pretence.

In the older days, before Christianity had obtained any influence, or

before foreign governments had exercised power to force away barbarous

rites and compel civilized ones, when almost every death was regarded as

due to the exercise of black art, and was always followed by a witchcraft

investigation and by the putting to death of from one to ten so-called

"witches" and "wizards" (in the case of kings, fifty to one hundred), no

one, except the doctor and his secret councillors, knew on whom suspicion

for the death might fall, and all were quick to be demonstrative in their

grief, whether real or feigned, as a means of warding off the dreaded

accusation against themselves.

Though those witchcraft executions have ceased wherever foreign power

exists, the wailing is still as demonstrative, either as a sign of real

grief or as a mere custom; and the mourning after burial continued for

weeks (or even months) is an enormous evil. Wives and husbands abandoning

their duties to their own villages; children either slighted at their own

homes or idly helping to swell the confusion at the town of mourning; men

neglecting their fishing, and women neglecting their gardens,--all these

visitors are an expensive draft on the hospitality and resources of the

town of kwedi, or on their other relatives who may happen to be living

near. Inevitably there is not enough food for all, and they stanch their

hunger by immoderate drinking of foreign alcoholic liquors.

After the first paroxysms of grief, in a few days the mourning is reduced

to a perfunctory wail by the women for a short time each morning and

evening. The remainder of the day is spent in idle talk, which always runs

into quarrels; and the nights in dances, which generally end in dissolute

revelry. A month of mourning lays up a list of assignations and intrigues

that result in trials for adultery and broken marriage relations.

The feelings in the hearts of the mourners are very mixed. The outcry of

affection, pleading with the dead to return to life, is sincere, the

survivor desiring the return to life to be complete; but almost

simultaneous with that cry comes a fear that the dead may indeed return,

not as the accustomed embodied spirit, helpful and companionable, but as a

disembodied spirit, invisible, estranged, perhaps inimical, and

surrounded by an atmosphere of dread imparted by the unknown and the

unseen. The many then ask, not that the departed may return, but that, if

it be hovering near, it will go away entirely.

Few were those who during the life of the departed had not on occasions

had some quarrel with him, or had done him some injustice or other wrong,

and their thought is, "His spirit will come back to avenge itself!" So

guns are fired to frighten away the spirit, and to cause it to go off to

the far world of spirits, and not take up a residence in or near the town

to haunt and injure the living.

Nevertheless, the kwedi is kept up, if for nothing else than to satisfy

the self-complacence of the dead. It is believed that the dead, sometimes

dissatisfied with the extent or character of the mourning ceremony, have

returned and inflicted some sickness on the village, for the removal of

which other ceremonies have to be performed.

Thus far acts which are dictated by natural feelings, good and otherwise,

have been dealt with; but there are a multitude of other ceremonies,

varied in different tribes and never the same in any one tribe, which are

performed under the direct influence of religious duty as well as

superstitious fear. What has been thus far described is especially true of

the Mpongwe, Benga, and Batanga tribes of western Equatorial Africa,

typical for most Bantu tribes of the continent. The following quotations

afford a comparison of the burial customs of savages in other regions with

those I have observed:

Lumholtz,[76] describing the burial customs of Australia, writes: "The

natives in the neighborhood of Portland Bay, in the southwestern part of

South Australia, cremate their dead by placing the corpse in a hollow tree

and setting fire to it.... The natives of Australia have this peculiarity,

in common with the savages of other countries, that they never utter the

names of the dead, lest their spirits should hear the voices of the living

and thus discover their whereabouts. There seems to be a widespread belief

in the soul's existence independently of matter. On this point Fraser

relates that the Kulie tribe (Victoria) believes that every man and animal

has a muriep (ghost or spirit) which can pass into other bodies. A

person's muriep may in his lifetime leave his body and visit other people

in his dreams. After death the muriep is supposed to appear again, to

visit the grave of its former possessor, to communicate with living

persons in their dreams, to eat remnants of food lying near the camp, and

to warm itself by the night fires. A similar belief has been observed

among the blacks of Lower Guinea. On my travels I, too, found a widespread

fear of the spirits of the dead, to which the imagination of the natives

attributed all sorts of remarkable qualities. The greater the man was on

earth, the more his departed spirit is feared.... An old warrior who has

been a strong man and therefore much respected by his tribe, is, after his

death, put on a platform made with forked sticks, cross-pieces, and a

sheet or two of bark; he is hoisted up amidst a pandemonium of noise,

howling, and wailing, besides much cutting with tomahawks, and banging of

heads with nolla-nollas. He is laid on his back with his knees up, like

the females, and the grass is cleared away from under and around. The

place is now for a long time carefully avoided, till he is quite

shrivelled, whereupon his bones are taken away and put in a tree.

"The common man is buried like a woman, only that logs are put over him,

and his bones are not removed. Young children are put bodily into the

trees.

"The fact that the natives bestow any care on the bodies of the dead is

doubtless owing to the fear of the spirits of the departed. In some places

I have seen the legs drawn and tied fast to the bodies, in order to hinder

the spirits of the dead, as it were, from getting out to frighten the

living. Women and children, whose spirits are not feared, receive less

attention and care after death.

"In several tribes it is customary to bury the body where the person was

born. I know of a case where a dying man was transported fifty miles in

order to be buried in the place of his nativity. It has even happened

that the natives have begun digging outside a white man's kitchen door,

because they wanted to bury an old man born there. In Central Queensland I

saw many burial-places on hills. Such are also said to be found in New

South Wales and in Victoria. These burial grounds have been in use for

centuries, and are considered sacred.

"In South Australia and in Victoria the head is not buried with the body,

for the skull is preserved and used as a drinking-cup. It is a common

custom to place the dead between pieces of bark and grass on a scaffold,

where they remain till they are decayed, and then the bones are buried in

the ground.

"In the northern part of Queensland I have heard people say that the

natives have a custom of placing themselves under these scaffolds to let

the fat drop on them, and that they believe that this puts them in

possession of the strength of the dead man.

"A kind of mummy dried by the aid of fire and smoke, is also found in

Australia; male children are most frequently prepared in this manner. The

corpse is then packed into a bundle, which is carried for some time by the

mother. She has it with her constantly, and at night sleeps with it at her

side. After about six months, when nothing but the bones remain, she

buries it in the earth. Full-grown men are also sometimes carried in this

manner, particularly the bodies of great warriors."

W. H. Brown, in "On the South African Frontier," describes a burial in

Mashona-land: "When a member of the community dies, he or she, as the case

may be, is usually buried under a shelf of rock in a reclining position,

with arms folded and legs doubled up. In some districts, where heaps of

rocks are scarce, I have seen graves made in large ant-heaps. As a rule, a

small canopy or thatched roof is built over the grave, and under this it

is common to see placed, as an offering, a pot of beer and a plate of

sadza. The beer evaporates, and the ants eat the sadza; but, to the

Mashona mind, the disappearance is due to supernatural causes. At the

burial the near relatives of the deceased cry aloud. I was camping one

night near a village where a child died. The obsequies took place next

morning between dawn and sunrise. The mother cried loudly while the

ceremony was proceeding, but her wailing ceased soon after the funeral,

and there was no more noise made over it. I went into the village about

two hours later, and saw some men, women, and children quietly sitting

around the hut in which the death had taken place, and looking very

solemn. The child was about two weeks old, and the cause of death was

attributed by the Mashonas to the fact that the mother had not given beer

to her grandfather when he wanted it at his death.

"If a woman's husband dies, and she afterwards procures another, the new

man takes up his abode in the hut of the dead one, becomes owner of his

assegais and battle-axes, and assumes his name. Whether or not the second

husband is supposed to enter into possession of the spirit of the

deceased, I could not discover. Some Mashonas have told me that they

believe that the spirits of their departed relatives enter the bodies of

animals, particularly those of lions.

"At the end of the lunar month during which a death has taken place, the

surviving partner, man or woman, kills a goat, and its meat is cooked, as

well as quantities of other food, and a large amount of Kaffir beer is

brewed. The people gather from the neighboring kraals, and an all-night

feast and dance ensue.

"Monthly 'dead-relative dances,' which are called 'machae' are very

common; and if no one has been accommodating enough to die during the

month, the feast and dance may be held in honor of some one who departed

years before."

A similar dance is held in the Gabun region of West Africa, partly as a

consolatory amusement for the living, near the close of whatever

prescribed time of mourning. It is called "Ukukwe" (for the spirit), as if

for the gratification of the hovering spirit of the dead; but in many

places in that region this dance has lost all reference to or for the

dead, or even any connection with a time of mourning, and has become

simply a common amusement.

In the Bihe country of Southwest Africa,[77] "death is surrounded by many

strange and absurd superstitions. It is considered essential that a man

should die in his own country, if not in his own town. On the way to

Bailundu, shortly after leaving Bihe territory, I met some men running at

great speed, carrying a sick man tied to a pole, in order that he might

die in his own country. I tried to stop them; but they were running, as

fast as their burden would allow them, down a steep rocky hill. By the

sick man's convulsive movements I could see that he was in great pain,

perhaps in his death throes; hence the great haste. If a Bailundu man dies

in Bihe, the Bihe people have to pay the Bailundu heavily for the shameful

conduct of the Bihe demons in killing a stranger; and _vice versa_.

"When a man dies at home, his body is placed on a rude table, and his

friends meet for days round the corpse, drinking, eating, shouting, and

singing, until the body begins actually to fall to pieces. Then the body

is tied in a fagot of poles and carried on men's shoulders up and down

some open space, followed by doctors and drummers. The doctors demand of

the dead man the cause of his death, whether by poison or witchcraft; and

if by the latter, who was the witch? Most of the deaths I have known of in

Negro-land were from pulmonary diseases, but all were set down to

witchcraft. The jerking of the bier to and fro, causing the men bearing it

to stumble hither and thither, is taken as the dead man's answer; thus, as

in the case of spirit-rapping at home, the reply is spelled out. The

result of this enquiry is implicitly believed in; and, if the case demands

it, the witch is drowned."

Among the Barotse of South Africa[78] "funerals take place at night, and

generally immediately after death, while the body is still warm. If the

person, when alive, possessed the skin of an animal, they wrap the body in

it, and also in a plain mat, and then bury it near the hut. But death

inspires them with a mortal terror, and thus the hut of the dead man is

nearly always abandoned. Anything that has been used for the burial, such

as the wood on which the corpse was carried, is left near the grave. It is

the fashion to display great external signs of grief, howls and cries of

lamentation and the like. Formerly the graves of chiefs were distinguished

by elephant tusks turned toward the east. All cattle belonging to the

deceased are killed; and any animal of which he was particularly fond,

such as the cow whose milk he drank, is killed first. They bury in the

kraal itself those who died in the kraal; but whenever it is possible, the

dying are taken out and laid in the fields or forest. There are two

reasons for this: first, they think that away from other people is a

better chance of the invalid making a recovery; and, secondly, wherever

the person dies he must be buried; therefore, if possible, far from their

habitations. When a man dies, visits of condolence are paid to the

relatives, the visitors bringing a calf or a head of cattle as a mark of

sympathy, which is killed and eaten as a kind of consolation. The night

after the funeral is passed in tears and cries. A few days later, the

doctor comes and makes an incision on the forehead of each of the

survivors, and fills it with medicine, in order to ward off contagion and

the effect of the sorcery which caused the death. They place on their

tombs some souvenir of the profession or vocation of the defunct; for

example,--if he had been a hunter, horns or skins; if a chairmaker, a

chair; and so on. Over the grave a sacred tree is planted. The tree is a

kind of laurel called 'morata.'... A man will kill himself on the tomb of

his chief; he thinks, as he passes near by, that he hears the dead man

call him and bid him bring him water. These natives believe in

transmigration of the soul into animals; thus, the hippopotamus is

believed to shelter the spirit of a chief. Nevertheless, they do not

appear very clear that the soul cannot be in two places at once; else, if

a chief has become a hippopotamus in the Zambesi, why should one slay

one's self to bring water to his tomb?"

Perhaps Declè was not aware of a widespread belief in a dual soul,

consisting of a "spirit," that, as far as known, lives forever in the

world of spirits, and a "shadow" that for an uncertain length of time

hovers around the mortal remains. Some, as already mentioned in a previous

chapter, also name a third entity, the "life,"--that which, being "eaten"

by sorcerers, causes the living being to sicken, and which the sorcerer,

if detected, can be compelled to return to its owner. Miss Kingsley

thought also she had discovered a belief in a fourth entity, the

"dream-soul." But this, though doubtless believed in as that which

sometimes leaves the sleeping body and goes on distant wanderings, is the

same as the "spirit," during whose temporary absence the body continues

its breathing and other physical motions, in virtue of the presence of its

second and third soul-entities.

The funeral practices of all the tribes, with very few exceptions, over

all Africa, however much they may and do vary, contain all of them, as

shown by the preceding quotations, a decided belief in, and fear of, the

intelligent and probably inimical activity of the spirits of their dead.

They include also the custom of the burial with the dead man of more or

less of his property, together with the destruction of such things as

cannot be conveniently placed in the grave,--clothing, crockery, utensils,

wives, slaves, trees of fruitage, etc.

Even among the civilized and enlightened, while of course there would be

no excessive destruction of property, nor murder of widow or slave, an

extravagant amount of wearing apparel is stuffed into the coffin (which is

sometimes made large for that purpose) as a sign of the importance of the

dead, and of the sacrifice the love and grief of the living are willing to

make.

The residence of the transmigrated spirit is probably not a permanent one.

The Wa-nya-mwesi of East Africa "believe in transmigration both during

life and after it. Thus, according to them, a sorcerer can transform

himself into a wild animal to injure his enemies; but in such cases the

change is not permanent, and the soul does not remain in its new

habitation."[79]

Leaving out of view the immense difference, caused by the absence of

Christianity, in the moral life of native Africa, as compared with that of

the United States, there is no one thing that more painfully strikes me,

in the low civilization of the former, than their customs for the dead. It

would occupy too much space to recount at length all the reasons the

natives give for their sometimes apparently heartless ceremonies. The true

explanation lies in their belief in witchcraft and their fear of spirits.

From the testimony of travellers, burial customs are much the same all

over Africa. What I have written is my personal knowledge of what prevails

on the West Coast, in the equatorial regions, and especially in the

portion lying along the course of the Ogowe River,--a river that was first

brought to public notice through the writings of Paul Du Chaillu, the

journeys of a British trader, Mr. R. B. N. Walker, and subsequently by the

thorough explorations of Count P. S. De Brazza.

There are in Africa social distinctions of rich and poor, higher and lower

classes, just as there are, and always will be, all the world over, the

claims of communism to the contrary notwithstanding. These distinctions

follow their subjects to the grave,--just as, in our own civilization, one

is laid in the sculptured cemetery and another in the Potter's Field.

The African burial-grounds are mostly in the forest, in the low-lying

lands and tangled thickets along the sea-beach, or the banks of rivers.

Hills and elevated building-sites are reserved for villages and

plantations. If a traveller, in journeying along the main river of the

country, observes long reaches of uncleared thickets, he will probably be

correct in suspecting that these are burial-grounds. His native crew will

be slow to inform him of the fact or to converse on the subject, unless to

object to an order to go ashore there.

Some of the interior tribes bury all their dead under the clay floors of

their houses. The living are thus actually treading and cooking their food

over the graves of their relatives.

This mode of burial is reserved as a distinction, in the case of some

coast tribes, for a very few of their honored chiefs, or for a specially

loved relative.

Over or near the graves of the rich are built little huts, where are laid

the common articles used by them in their life,--pieces of crockery,

knives, sometimes a table, mirrors, and other goods obtained in foreign

trade. Once, in ascending the Ogowe, I observed, tied to the branches of a

large tree extending over the stream from the top of the bank, a wooden

trade-chest, five pitchers and mugs, and several fathoms of calico prints.

I was informed that the grave of a lately deceased chief was near, that

these articles were signs of his wealth, and were intended as offerings to

spirits to induce them to draw to the villages of his people the trade of

passing merchant vessels.

A noticeable fact about these gifts to the spirits is that, however great

a thief a man may be, he will not steal from a grave. The coveted mirror

will lie there and waste in the rain, and the valuable garment will flap

itself to rags in the wind, but human hands will not touch them. Sometimes

the temptation to steal is removed by the donor fracturing the article

before it is laid on the grave.

Actual interment is generally given to all who in life were regarded as at

all worthy of respect. Native implements for excavating being few and

small, the making of a grave is quite a task; it is often, therefore, made

no deeper than is actually sufficient for covering the corpse. This,

according to the greatness of the dead or the wealth of the family, is

variously encased. Sometimes it is placed in a coffin made of the ends of

an old canoe; or, more shapely, of boards cut from the canoe's bottom and

sides; or, even so expensively as to use two trade-boxes, making one long

one by knocking out an end from each and telescoping them.

Sometimes the corpse is cast out on the surface of the ground, and perhaps

a pile of stones or brushwood gathered over it. Sometimes it lies

uncovered. Sometimes they are cast into the river.

Many years ago, I was ascending the Ogowe River in my boat, painfully

toiling against the current. I had unwisely refused the wish of my crew to

stop for our mid-day meal at a desirable ulako (camping-ground), as the

hour was too early; and I determined to go on, and stop at some other

place. But I regretted presently; for, instead of finding forest and high

camping-ground, we came to a long stretch of papyrus swamp; and, after

that, to low jungle. We pulled on for another mile, the sun growing

hotter, along the unsheltered bank, and we growing faint with hunger as

the hour verged to noon. Becoming desperate, I directed the crew to stop

at the very first spot that was solid enough for foothold, intending to

eat our dry rice without fire. Presently we came to a clump of oil-palms.

Their existence showed solid ground, and I seized the rudder and ran the

boat ashore. The crew objected, hungry though they were, that "it was not

a good place"; but they did not mention why. I jumped ashore, however, and

ordered them to follow, and gather sticks for fire. As they were rather

slow in so doing, and I overheard murmuring that "firewood is not gotten

from palm trees" (which is true), I set them an example by starting off on

a search myself.

I had not gone far before I found a pile of brushwood, and, rejoicing at

my success, I called out to the crew to come and carry it. While they were

coming, I stooped down and laid hold of an eligible stick. But an odor

startled me; and the other sticks that I had dislocated falling apart,

there was revealed a human foot and shin, which, from the ornaments still

remaining about the ankle, I suppose was a woman's. My attendants fled;

and I re-embarked in the boat, sufficiently unconscious of hunger to await

a late meal that was not cooked until we reached a comfortable village a

short distance beyond. My crew then explained their slowness to obey me at

that clump of palm trees, by saying that they knew it looked like a

burying-place.

A less respectful mode of burial (if, indeed, the term be not a misnomer)

is applied to the poor, to the friendless aged who have wearied out the

patience of relatives by a long sickness, and to those whose bodies are

offensive by a leprous or otherwise ulcerous condition. Immediately that

life seems extinct (and sometimes even before) the wasted frame is tied up

in the mat on which it is lying, and, slung from a pole on the shoulders

of two men, is flung out on the surface of the ground in the forest, to

become the prey of wild beasts and the scavenger "driver" (Termes

bellicosa) ants.

Of one tribe in the upper course of the Ogowe, I was told, who, in their

intense fear of ghosts, and their dread of the possible evil influence of

the spirits of their own dead relatives, sometimes adopt a horrible plan

for preventing their return. With a very material idea of a spirit, they

seek to disable it by beating the corpse until every bone is broken. The

mangled mass is hung in a bag at the foot of a tree in the forest. Thus

mutilated, the spirit is supposed to be unable to return to the village,

to entice into its fellowship of death any of the survivors.