Some dead bodies are burned, particularly those of criminals. Persons

convicted on a charge of witchcraft are "criminals," and are almost

invariably killed. Sometimes they are beheaded. I have often had in my

possession the curved knives with which this operation is performed.

Sometimes torture is used: a common mode is to roast the condemned over a

slow fire, which is made under a stout bed-frame built for the purpose. In

such a case almost the entire body is reduced to ashes. When I was

clearing a piece of ground at Belambila in the Ogowe in 1875, for the

house which I afterward occupied, my workmen came on a pile of ashes,

charcoal, and charred bones, where, they assured me, a criminal had been

put to death.

A barely mentionable method of disposal of the bodies of the dead is to

eat them. That is possible only in a cannibal country. That it was actual

was known among the Gabun Fang fifty years ago, and among my Ogowe Fang

twenty-five years ago. None ate of their own dead; adjacent towns

exchanged corpses. Women were not allowed to partake. The practice was

confined to the old men. One such was pointed out to me at Talaguga in

1882. He robbed graves for that purpose.

Among the coast tribes of the Gabun region of West Africa cremation is not

known, nor are corpses thrown out on the ground. Under the influence of

foreign example, the dead are coffined, more or less elaborately,

according to the ability of the family; and the interment is made in

graves of proper depth. In some of these tribes a locality of low, dark,

tangled forest, not suitable as site for a village or for a plantation, is

used as a public cemetery.

Among the tribes of Batanga in the German Kamerun territory, though the

people are civilized, the old unsanitary custom of burying in the

kitchen-gardens immediately in the rear of the village, and sometimes

actually in the clay floor of the dwelling itself, is still kept up, even

by the more enlightened natives. The Christians are not in numbers

sufficiently large in any family to control all the burial ceremonies of

its dead members. The strange spectacle is therefore presented of a

mixture of Christian ritual and fetich custom. In my own experience at

funerals of some children of church-members at Batanga, the singing of

hymns of faith and hope by the Christian relatives alternated with the

howling of half-naked heathen death-dancers in an adjoining house. And

when I had read the burial service to the point of beginning the march of

the procession to the grave, perhaps only a few rods distant, the heathen

remained behind; and while I was reading the "dust to dust" at the

grave-side, they would be building a quick fire of chips and dried leaves

on the exact spot where the coffin had last stood in the village street.

The ashes they would gather and incorporate into their family fetiches, to

insure fertility to the mother and other near female relatives of the dead

child.

Also, in the Gabun region, there is the remains of a custom, practised

especially by the Orungu tribe of Cape Lopez, of a pretended quarrel

between two parties of mourners on a question whether or not the burial

shall actually be made, even though there is no doubt that it will be, and

the coffin is ready to be carried. This contest concluded, a second

quarrel is raised on a question as to which of two sets of relatives, the

maternal or the paternal, shall have the right to carry it. Very recently

this actually occurred at the town of Libreville, and on the premises of

the American Presbyterian Mission, the fight being shamefully waged by

young men who formerly had been professing Christians. They had been given

permission to bury a young man in our Protestant cemetery. The missionary

in charge of the station heard a great hubbub on the path entering the

mission grounds, as if a fight was in progress. Going to investigate, he

found an angry contest was being carried on, under the old heathen idea

that the spirit of the dead must see and be pleased by a demonstration of

a professed desire to keep him with the living, and not to allow him to be

put away from them. The contest of words had almost come to blows, and the

victors had set up a disgraceful shout as they seized the coffin to bring

it to the grave.

Another custom remains in Gabun,--a pleasant one; it may once have had

fetich significance, but it has lost it now, so that Christians may

properly retain it. Just before the close of the kwedi, friends (other

than relatives) of the mourners will bring some gift, even a small one,

make a few remarks appropriate to it and to the circumstances of the

receiver, and give it to his or her mourning friend. It is called the

"ceremony of lifting up," _i. e._, out of the literal ashes, and from the

supposed depths of grief. For instance, if the gift be a piece of soap,

the speech of donation will be, "Sit no longer in the dust with begrimed

face! Rise, and use the soap for your body!" Or if it be a piece of cloth,

"Be no longer naked! Rise, and clothe yourself with your usual dress!" Or

if it be food, "Fast no longer in your grief! Rise, and strengthen your

body with food!"

[Illustration: A CIVILIZED FAMILY.--GABUN.]

As to the status of the departed in the spirit-world, though all those

African tribes from old heathen days knew of the name of God, of His

existence, and of some of His attributes, they did not know of the true

way of escape from the evils of this present life, of any system of reward

and punishment in the future life, nor of any of the conditions of that

life. That they had a belief in a future world is evidenced by survivors

taking to the graves of their dead, as has been described in the preceding

pages, boxes of goods, native materials, foreign cloth, food, and

(formerly) even wives and servants, for use in that other life to which

they had gone. Whatever may have been supposed about the locality or

occupations of that life, the dead were confidently believed to have

carried with them all their human passions and feelings, and especially

their resentments. Fear of those possible resentments dominated the living

in all their attempts at spiritual communication with the dead.

As to the locality of the latter, it was not believed that all of them

always remained in that unknown other world. They could wander invisibly

and intangibly. More than that, they could return bodily and resume this

earthly life in other forms; for belief in metempsychosis is a common one

among all these tribes. The dead, some of them, return to be born again,

either into their own family or into any other family, or even into a

beast.

Who thus return, or why they return, is entirely uncertain. Certainly not

all are thus born again. Those who in this present life had been great or

good or prominent or rich remain in the spirit-world, and constitute the

special class of spirits called "awiri" (singular, "ombwiri").

But these awiri are at liberty to revisit the earth if they choose,

taking a local habitation in some prominent natural object, or coming on

call to aid in ceremonies for curing the sick. Other spirits, as explained

in a previous chapter, are sinkinda, the souls of the common dead; and

ilâgâ, unknown spirits of other nations, or beings who have become

"angels," all of these living in "Njambi's Town."

As to Father Njambi Himself, the creator and overseer of all, both living

and dead, every kind of spirit--ombwiri, nkinda, olâgâ, and all sorts of

abambo--is under His control, but He does not often exercise it.

CHAPTER XV

FETICHISM--SOME OF ITS PRACTICAL EFFECTS

DEPOPULATION.

One of the effects of witchcraft beliefs in Africa is the depopulation of

that continent. Over enormous areas of the country the death rate has

exceeded the birth rate. Much of Africa is desert--the Sahara of the

north, and the Kalahari of the south--with estimated populations of only

one to the square mile. Another large area is a wilderness covered by the

great sub-equatorial forest,--a belt about three hundred miles wide and

one thousand miles long, with an estimated population of only eighteen to

the square mile (among whom are the Pygmy tribes); and these not scattered

uniformly, but gathered chiefly on the banks of the watercourses, the only

highways (except narrow footpaths) through that dismal forest.

The entire population of Africa, including all nationalities,--Copts of

Egypt, Moors and Berbers of the north, Arabs of the east, Abyssinians,

Pygmies, and Cannibals of the centre, Negroes, both Bantu and Negroid, of

the west, south, centre, and east,--probably do not number two hundred

million. Of these, the Negroes probably do not amount to one hundred

million. German authorities variously estimate the population of their

Kamerun country at from two to five million, and they have been vigorously

reducing it by their savage punitive expeditions in the interior. The

French authorities of the Kongo-Français estimate theirs at from five to

ten million.

The population of the great Kongo River was much overestimated after the

opening of that river by Stanley. Its people were massed on the river

banks, and gave an impression of density which subsequent interior travel

has not verified. To walk slowly in an hour over a mile of road that

constitutes the one street of a town; to count the huts, and allot such or

such a number to each, would give a sufficiently accurate census of one

thousand or perhaps two thousand to that town. But that place is the

centre of travel or traffic of that region. A half-day's journey on any

radius from that town through the surrounding forest would confront the

traveller with scarcely any other evidences of human habitation. Towns of

the thousands are not the usual sight; rather the villages of one hundred,

and the hamlets of twenty, excepting in the Sudan, in the Yoruba and other

countries of the Niger, and in the large capitals of Dahomey and other

Guinea kingdoms. There walled cities of from fifty to one hundred thousand

inhabitants are known.

These congested districts help to lift the average that would be made low

by the paucity in the wilderness and desert portions. Probably the

population of the entire continent was much greater two hundred years ago.

Depopulation was hastened by the export slave-trade. Livingstone estimated

that, on the East Coast, for every slave actually exported, nineteen

others died on the way. The foreign slave-trade has long ceased, except

from the Upper Nile down through Egypt and Arabia, and from the Sudan

across the Sahara to Morocco. But far worse than Arab slave-trade are the

diabolical atrocities, committed during the last fifteen years and

actually at the present time, in the Kongo, under white officers of the

miscalled "Free State," and with the knowledge and allowance of the King

of Belgium.

But, aside from all these and other civil and political causes, the fetich

religion of Africa has been a large part of its destruction. It has been a

Moloch, whose hunger for victims was never satisfied: as illustrated in

the annual sacrifice of hundreds and thousands by the priests of the kings

of Dahomey and Ashanti; and the burial victims at the funerals of great

kings, as in Uganda and all over the continent. If the destruction of such

human victims is not so great to-day as it was twenty years ago, due to

enlightenment by Christian missions and forceful prohibition by civilized

governments, the spirit of and disposition to destruction is not

eradicated; it is only suppressed. It is so deep seated and ingrained as a

part of religion, that it is among the very last of the shadows of

heathenism to disappear after individuals or tribes are apparently

civilized and enlightened. Under transforming influences the native has

been lifted from dishonesty to honesty, from untruth to truth, from

immorality to virtue, from heathenism to Christianity; and yet there still

clings to him, though he no longer worships the fetich, a belief in and

fear of it. The presence of foreign governments can and does prevent

witchcraft murder for the dead; but if these governments were withdrawn

from English Sierra Leone, French Kongo-Français, and other partitions of

Africa, the witchcraft ordeal and murder would be at once resumed. And no

wonder. Inbred beliefs, deepened by millenniums of years of practice, are

not eliminated by even a century of foreign teaching. Costume of body and

fashion of dress are easily and voluntarily changed; not so the essence of

one's being.

Under the assurance that a consecrated charm can be made for the

accomplishment of any purpose whatever, it results that almost every

native African heathen, in hours of fear or anger or revenge, has made, or

has had made, for himself amulets, or has performed rites intended to

compass an injury to, and perhaps the death of, some other person. Should

that other die, even as long a time as a year afterward, it will be

believed that that fetich amulet or act caused the death.

It follows, therefore (although even heathen natives do, in rare cases,

say of a death, "Yes, Anzam took this one," _i. e._, that he died a

natural death), that almost universally at any death which we would know

as a natural one, surviving relatives and friends make the charge of

witchcraft, and seek the witch or wizard, by investigation involving, in

the trial, torture, or ordeal by poison, fire, or other tests. For every

natural death at least one, and often ten or more, have been executed

under witchcraft accusation.

I have pleaded for the lives of accused when I believed them innocent, and

whenever I was informed that an investigation was in progress, I said to

the crowd assembled in the street, "When you kill these three people

to-day, do I see three babies born to take their place in the number of

the inhabitants of your village?"

The Balengi on the Benita River, among whom I travelled in 1865-70, were

then a large tribe. It is now very small, exterminated largely by

witchcraft murders for the dead. The aged, defenceless, and slaves are

generally selected as victims. But no one is secure. Relatives of a chief

who during his life may have seemed envious of his power, are often

suspected and put to death.

For the determination of a doubtful cause of decease post-mortems are

made, but not on any rational basis or with any knowledge of anatomy. In

the autopsy of an ordinary person the object is to find among the bowels

or other internal organs some sign which the doctor-priest may declare to

be the path of the supposed sorcery-injected destroying spirit. In case of

a magician, the object is to see whether his own "familiar" had "eaten"

him. Cavities in the lungs are considered proof positive that one's own

power has destroyed him. The fimbriated extremities of the fallopian tubes

of a uterus are also declared to be "witch." Their ciliary motions on

dissection are regarded as a sign that the woman was a witch. In proof,

the native doctor said to me, "See! those are the spirit-teeth. Don't you

see how they move and extend in desire to catch and eat?" It was in vain

that I declared to him that if that was true then every woman all over the

world was a witch, and that he was bound to go ahead and kill them all;

for that God had made no woman without those things. (Was this "doctor's"

idea the same reason for which the old anatomists called those fimbriæ

"morsus Diaboli"?)

In Garenganze, among the Barotse,[80] "the trial for witchcraft is short

and decisive. If one man suspects another of having bewitched him,--in

fact, if he has a grudge against him,--he brings him before the council,

and the ordeal of the boiling pot is resorted to. My proposal is that if

they consider it a fair trial of 'whiteness' or 'blackness' of heart, as

they call it, then let both the accuser and the accused put their hands

into the boiling water. The king is strongly in favor of this proposal,

and would try any means to stop this fearful system of murder which is

thinning out many of his best men; but the nation is so strongly in favor

of the practice that he can do nothing. An old friend of mine, Wizini, who

took quite a fatherly care and interest in me, for some peculiar reason of

his own, was charged with witchcraft. He pleaded earnestly to be spared

the terrible trial, and was reprieved because of his years, but banished

from his people and country for life, for no other reason than that a

neighbor had an ill feeling against him. Had he been first to the king

with his complaint, he might have gotten his neighbor burned or banished

instead of himself.... Their punishments are very cruel. Burning alive is,

among the Barotse, a common occurrence; also tying the victim hand and

foot and laying him near a nest of large black ('driver') ants, which in a

few days pick his bones clean."

But it is well to repeat my own qualification of most statements about

"African" customs, which Arnot makes in connection with the above, that,

"when manners and customs are referred to, the particular district must be

borne in mind. Africa is an immense continent, and there is as much

variety in the customs of the different tribes as in their languages.

Certain tribes take delight in cruelty and bloodshed; others have a

religious fear of shedding human blood, and treat aged people with every

kindness, to secure their good-will after death. By other tribes the aged

would be cast out as mere food for wild animals."

The testimony of Declè[81] as to the tribes of South-Central Africa is:

"You would suppose that the African expected everybody to live forever,

since his one explanation of death is an immediate recourse to witchcraft.

It is hardly an exaggeration to say that every natural death entails a

violent one as its consequence. Along with witchcraft and the inevitable

accusation of sorcery when one dies, goes the custom of 'muavi,' the

ordeal by poison.... It is plain what complete domination this practice

has got over the native mind. The reason is that he thoroughly believes in

its efficiency. My own porters have constantly offered to submit to the

ordeal on the most trivial charges. Of course, this thorough belief in

'muavi' hands the native over completely defenceless to the witch doctor.

The doctor can get rid of anybody he likes to. Besides this, he is a kind

of public prosecutor; that is to say, that when he accuses any man or

woman of sorcery, he is not obliged, like any ordinary accuser, to take

the poison himself."

The "ordeal" or test of the innocence of a person accused of practising

witchcraft or of having caused the death of any one (except in places

where Christianity has attained power), is almost the same now as that

described by Rev. Dr. J. L. Wilson, and subsequently by Du Chaillu, as

existing fifty years ago on the entire West Coast of Africa. On the Upper

Guinea coasts it is called the "red water." "It is a decoction made from

the inner bark of a large forest tree of the mimosa family." At Calabar a

bean was used, an extract of which since has been employed in our

pharmacopoeia, in surgical operations of the eye.

In the Gabun country the bark and leaves of a small tree called "akazya"

are used. Farther south, in the Nkâmi (miswritten, "Camma") country, it is

called "mbundu."

The decoction itself is supposed to have almost sentience,--an ability to

follow, in the various organs of the body, like a policeman, and detect

and destroy the witch-spirit supposed to be lurking about.

Accused persons sometimes even demand that they be given the ordeal. This

an innocent person could fearlessly do, feeling sure of his innocence,

and thinking, as any honest person in a civilized country charged with

theft would feel, that it was perfectly safe to have his house searched,

sure that no stolen article was secreted there. So here the ignorant

native is willing to take this poison, not looking on it as what we call

"poison."

People who know that they have at times used witchcraft arts will

naturally be unwilling to undergo the test; but if the charge is made

after a death, an accused is compelled to drink. "If it nauseates and

causes him to vomit freely, he suffers no injury, and is at once

pronounced innocent. If, on the other hand, it causes vertigo, and he

loses his self-control, it is regarded as evidence of guilt; and then all

sorts of indignities and cruelties are practised on him.... On the other

hand, if he escapes without injury his character is thoroughly purified,

... and he arraigns before the principal men of the town his accusers, who

in their turn must submit to the same ordeal, or pay a large fine to the

man whom they attempted to injure.... There is seldom any fairness in the

administration of the ordeal. No particular quantity of the 'red water' is

prescribed." The doctor, by collusion and family favoritism, may make the

decoction very weak; or, influenced by public feeling inimical to the

accused, he may compel him to swallow a fatal amount; or he may save his

life by a subsequent emetic.[82]

CANNIBALISM.

African cannibalism has been regarded as only a barbarism; but for many

years I have strongly suspected that it had some connection with the

Negro's religion. It may be a corollary of witchcraft.

Declè intimates the same:[83] "I do not mean such cannibalism as that of

certain Kongo tribes, or of the Solomon Islanders, who kill people to eat

them, as we eat game. With such tribes I did not come in contact. But

there is another form of cannibalism less generally known to Europeans,

and perhaps even more grisly, which consists in digging up dead bodies to

feast on their flesh. This practice exists largely among the natives in

the region of Lake Nyasa.[84] I know of a case in which the natives of a

village in this region seized the opportunity of a white man's presence to

break into the hut of one of these reputed cannibals, and found there a

human leg hanging from the rafters. This incident shows that cannibalism

is practised; but also that it is not universal with the tribes among whom

it is found, and is condemned by the public opinion of those who do not

practise it. But public opinion in Africa is not a highly developed

power.... The real public opinion is witchcraft. And, indeed, in the case

of cannibalism, the real public opinion tends to shield the perpetrators,

because they are reputed to be sorcerers of high quality."

Rev. Dr. H. C. Trumbull, in his "Blood Covenant" (1893), while gathering

testimony from all nations to illustrate his view of the universality of

blood as representing _life_, and the _heart_ as the seat of life, as a

part of the religious rite of a covenant, comes incidentally on this same

idea of cannibalism as having a religious significance, or at least, as I

have expressed above, as a corollary of witchcraft. This will explain why

the African cannibal, in conquering his enemy, also eats him; why the

heart is especially desired in such feasts; and why the body of any one of

distinguished characteristics is prized for the cannibal feast. His

strength or skill or bravery or power is to be absorbed along with his

flesh.

Trumbull[85] quotes from Réville, the representative comparative

religionist of France: "Here you will recognize the idea so widely spread

in the two Americas, and indeed almost everywhere amongst uncivilized

people (nor is it limited to the uncivilized), that the heart is the

epitome, so to speak, of the individual,--his soul in some sense,--so

that to appropriate his heart is to appropriate his whole being."

A constant charge against sorcerers in West African tribes is that they

have made a person sick by stealing and eating the sick one's "heart," and

that the invalid cannot recover till the "heart" is returned.

Also, see Trumbull:[86] "The widespread popular superstition of the

Vampire and of the ghoul seems to be an outgrowth of this universal belief

that transfused blood is revivifying. The bloodless shades, leaving their

graves at night, seek renewed life by drawing out the blood of those who

sleep, taking the life of the living to supply temporary life to the

dead.... An added force is given to all these illustrations of the

universal belief that transferred blood has a vivifying power, by the

conclusions of modern medical science concerning the possible benefits of

blood-transfusion. The primitive belief seems to have had a sound basis in

scientific fact."

Histories of our American Indians are full of incidents showing how the

heart of a captive who in dying had exhibited bravery in the endurance of

torture, was promptly cut in pieces and eaten, to absorb his courage.

"The Ashanti fetichmen of West Africa, apparently acting on a kindred

thought, make a mixture of the hearts of enemies mingled with blood and

consecrated herbs, for the vivifying of the conquerors."

"In South Africa, among the Amampondo, one of the Kaffir tribes, it is

customary for the chief, on his accession to authority, to be washed in

the blood of a near relative, generally a brother, who is put to death on

the occasion, and has his skull used as a receptacle for blood."[87]

SECRET SOCIETIES.

Another outcome of witchcraft belief is the formation of secret societies,

both male and female, of crushing power and far-reaching influence,

which, in one aspect of their influence, the governmental, were the only

authority, before the intrusion of foreign powers, which could settle a

fierce personal dispute or enforce intertribal peace. But their

possibilities for good were overbalanced by their actualities of evil.

Among these societies I have, in a previous chapter, mentioned as

governmental agencies the Egbo of the Niger Delta, Ukuku of the Corisco

region, and Yasi of the Ogowe. There is also in the Gabun region of the

equator, among the Shekani, Mwetyi; among the Bakele, Bweti; among the

Mpongwe-speaking tribes, Indâ and Njembe; and Ukuku and Malinda in

the Batanga regions.

A detailed account of the ceremonies of an initiation into Malinda is

contained in Chapter XVI.

In a previous chapter I have mentioned my own coming in contact with Ukuku

and Yasi.

All these societies had for their primary object the good one of

government, for this purpose holding the fetich in terror; but the means

used were so arbitrary, the influences employed so oppressive, and the

representations so false, that they almost all were evil. Most of them are

now discontinued as a tribal power by the presence of foreign governments,

the foreign power having actually come in conflict with some of them, as

in the case of England recently with the Aro of Nigeria; or, where they

still exist, they have degenerated to mere amusement, as Ukukwe, in Gabun;

or are kept up as a traditional fashion, as Njembe.

But they all exist, as described by Rev. Dr. Wilson a generation ago, and

are at this very present among the tribes of the interior, where foreign

government is as yet only nominal.

Mwetyi "is a great spirit, who is supposed to dwell in the bowels of the

earth, but comes to the surface of the ground at stated seasons, or when

summoned on any special business. A large flat house of peculiar form is

erected in the middle of the village for the temporary sojourn of this

spirit. The house is always kept perfectly dark, and no one is permitted

to enter it, except those who have been initiated into all the mysteries

of the order, which includes, however, almost the whole of the adult male

population of the village.... When Mwetyi is about to retire from a

village, the women, children, uninitiated lads, and any strangers who may

be there at the time, are required to leave the village."

"Indâ is an association whose membership is confined to the adult male

population. It is headed by a spirit of that name, who dwells in the

woods, and appears only when summoned by some unusual event,--at the death

of a person connected with the order, at the birth of twins, or at the

inauguration of some one into office.... If a distinguished person dies,

Indâ affects great rage, and comes the following night with a large posse

of men to seize the property of the villagers without discrimination. He

is sure to lay hands on as many sheep and goats as are necessary to make a

grand feast, and no man has any right to complain.... The institution of

Indâ, like that of Mwetyi, is intended to keep the women, children, and

slaves in subjection."

"Njembe is a pretty fair counterpart of Indâ, but there is no

special spirit nor any particular person representing it." Its power

resides in the society as a body, and rests on the threat of the

employment of fetich medicines to injure recalcitrant persons. Only women

are admitted to it. A very considerable fee is demanded for admission to

membership. Formerly it was considered an honor to be allowed to be

initiated; now, to perpetuate itself, it compels young women to enter it,

especially if they have made derogatory remarks about Njembe. The

initiation then becomes a kind of punishment. Strange to say, young women

thus compelled to enter accept the society, and become zealous to drag

others in. The initiation occupies about two weeks, and is accompanied

with harsh treatment. Njembe has no special meeting-house. They

assemble in a cleared place in the centre of a jungle, where their doings

are unseen by outsiders by night or day. Nothing is known of their rites,

except that they dance in a nude state, and the songs of their dances are

openly heard, and are often of the vilest character.

"They pretend to detect thieves, to find out the secrets of their

enemies," to direct women in pregnancy, and in other ways claim to be

useful.

"The object of the institution originally, no doubt, was to protect the

females from harsh treatment on the part of their husbands."

As a rule, the Mpongwe women say that every woman should be in the

Njembe Society; so, at a certain age of a girl, they decide that she

shall "go in." But she is not always put through all the ceremonies at

once. She may be subjected to only a part of the initiation, the remainder

to be performed at another time.

The special occasion for an initiation may be perhaps because the spirit

of some recently dead member wants a new one to take her place; or if any

young woman has escaped being initiated during her youth or if she is

charged with having spoken derisively of Njembe, she may be seized

by force and compelled to go through the rite.

The entire process so beats down the will of the novices and terrorizes

them, that even those who have been forced into it against their will,

when they emerge at the close of the rite, most inviolably preserve its

secrets, and express themselves as pleased.

Just before the novices or "pupils" are to enter, they have to prepare a

great deal of food,--as much as they can possibly obtain of cassava, fish,

and plantains. Two days are spent, before the ceremonies begin, in cooking

this food. They make big bundles of ngândâ (gourd seed) pudding, others of

ground-nuts and odika (oily kernel of the wild mango), pots of odika and

fish boiled, boiled hard plantains, and ripe plantains beaten into rolls

called "fufu." This food is to be eaten by them and the older members of

the society the first night.

Those older ones, as a part of the hazing which they always practise,

deceive the new ones by advising them in advance: "Eat no supper this

evening. Save up your appetite. All this food you have prepared is your

own, and you will be satiated at the feast to-night." This is said in

order to play a hard joke on them. But sometimes a more tender-hearted

relative will pity them, and will privately warn them to eat something,

knowing that they will be up all night, and that the older members intend

to seize and eat what these "pupils" had prepared for themselves, allowing

the latter to be faint with hunger.

That evening the society goes into the adjacent jungle, the spot selected

including a small stream of water. There they clear a small space for

their ceremonies. They dance all night, part of the time in this camp, and

part of the time in the street of the town, but always going back to the

camp at some early morning hour.

On the second day they come to town, dance there a little while, and then

go back to the forest. They beat constantly and monotonously, without

time, a short straight stick on a somewhat crescent-shaped piece of board

(orega) that is slightly concave on one side. It makes a clear but not

a musical note; is heard quite far, and is the distinctive sign of the

Njembe Society. No other persons own or will strike the orega

music.

In the part of the ceremonies that are public in the village street, a man

is invited to assist by beating on a drum, a matter in which women here

are not expert. This drum does not exclude the orega, several of which

may be beaten at the same time; at least one must be kept sounding during

the whole two weeks by one or another of the candidates, or if these

become exhausted, by some other member of the society.

One of the first public preparations is the bending of a limber pole

(ilala) as an arch, or two branches, their tops woven together, over the

path entering the village. They are wreathed with lycopodium ferns, and at

their bases are stuck a young, short, recently half-unfolded palm-leaf,

painted with Njembe dots of white, red, and black. At the distance

of a few hundred feet may be another ilala; indeed, there may be several

of them on the way to the camp.

While dancing during the first few days, the society occupies itself with

preparations, unknown to the public, for their "work" in the camp. Thither

come older members from afar, especially those related to the candidates.

Certain women skilled in the Njembe dances and rules are called

"teachers." The first step which an already initiated member takes to

become a "teacher" is to find and introduce a new recruit, with whom she

must again go through all the rites of initiation more severely than at

her first experience. She makes herself perfect in the lessons impressed

on her by impressing them on the new pupil. The prospective "teacher" has

thus to endure, in this second passage through the rites, all and more

than is put on the novice. Little as is known of these rites, it is

certain they are severe.

In the singing, each song is known by its own descriptive motions. The

motion mentioned is to be actually performed, however difficult or

immodest it may be. Generally the immodest portions are reserved for the

seclusion of their camp; but the words sung at the camp can be heard at

the village, so that all hear them,--men, women, and little children.

One common public song has for its refrain, "Look at the sun"; while that

song is being danced, the candidate must gaze steadily at the hot sun,

even if it be blinding. Most of the "rules" (and the teacher may invent as

many new ones as she chooses) are purposely hard in order to make the

candidate suffer, and as part of the process of breaking her will, and

ensuring secrecy by a reign of terror.

Also most of the nights the candidate (or several of them if there are a

number) must spend hours in keeping a fire burning in some part of the

forest. That fire, once started, must be kept burning day and night during

the whole two weeks. A girl who in ordinary times would be afraid to go

out into the forest alone at night, will, under the Njembe

initiation, go out in storm and rain to see that the fire is not

extinguished. Sometimes the teacher will lighten the task for her by

accompanying her; or some one, pitying, will help to gather the dead wood

with which the fire is kept smouldering.

There are also rules for the breaking of which there are fines, _e. g._,

"When you are dancing in public during the initiation, do not laugh

aloud." Another rule is that no salutation is to be given or received, nor

the person or even the clothing of a visitor touched by a candidate.

The teacher must be quick to imitate, in this her second "degree" or

passage through the rites, the rapid motions of the skilled older one who

is teaching her and her new recruit.

In order to increase the severity, the pupil, though she may be already

wearied, is required to repeat her dance before every newcomer or

spectator. The teacher will start the beat of the orega and take a few

steps of the dance, and then stop and rest comfortably, the tired pupil

taking the orega and continuing the dance.

If pupils are sulky or shy, their teacher and other older members will

scold them: "Go on! dance! You may not stand or rest there! Go on! You!

this girl with your awkwardness! Do you own the Njembe?" Sometimes a

pupil is sulky or stubborn, or, disheartened, begins to cry. No mercy is

shown her. Others, in anxiously trying to follow motions, will make absurd

mistakes, and bring down on themselves the derision of the spectators.

Some pupils really like the dancing, and endeavor to learn quickly. Such

as these are praised: "This one knows, and she will some day be a

teacher."

It is expected that the relatives of the pupils will be present and

encourage them with some little gifts.

It is remarkable how well the secrets of the society are kept. No one has

ever been induced to reveal them. Those who have left the society and have

become Christians do not tell. Foreigners have again and again tried to

bribe, but in vain. Traders and others have tried to induce their native

wives to reveal; but these women, obedient to any extent on all other

matters, maintain a stubborn silence. Nothing is known outside of the

society of their doings in their camp, except that they are all naked, lay

aside all modesty, make personal examinations of each other's bodies, sing

phallic songs, and indulge in the hardest, severest, and most violent

insults and curses heaped up in assumed wrath as jokes on each other. It

is really a school in which to learn the fine art of using insults and

curses which will be utilized outside the society, upon other persons on

occasions of real anger. No man can equal these women in their volubility

and bitter tirades when really angry. It is Billingsgate in its glory.

After keeping up the ceremonies for a number of days, the society chooses

one for their "last." The day preceding it, they go out in procession with

baskets, kettles, and basins, from village to village, still singing, the

song being adapted for their errand of begging, and still beating the

orega, to get offerings of food, or gifts of rum, tobacco, plates, and

cloth. (In a civilized religious worship this would be the taking up of

the collection.) At each village on their route any member of the society

will direct one of the new pupils to dance, as an exhibition of her

recently acquired ability. She does not hesitate, but asks, "Which dance?"

The teacher replies, "I will show you," and starting a few steps measured,

she stops, and the designated pupil takes it up.

During the initiation the pupils are required to go bare-footed; and if

they have been wearing dresses, the dresses are taken off and only a

native cloth worn. But a slight concession has occasionally been made in

favor of some mission-school girls when forced into Njembe, who,

accustomed to dresses, were allowed to wear them when walking in this

public collecting procession.

The night of the day on which they come back from this collecting of gifts

is the "last night." Dancing is then done by all, both by the teachers and

the pupils.

It is not known who is leader. One is spoken of as the "Mother," but it

is not known who she is. The chief teacher is seen whenever they come from

their camp, and is known by the colored chalk markings different from

others.

[Illustration: NJEMBE. FEMALE SECRET SOCIETY.--MPONGWE, GABUN.]

The next morning, the morning of the "last day," all go out fishing, young

and old, along the river or sea beach. This fishing is done among the

muddy roots of the mangrove trees. They gather shell-fish of different

kinds. But whatever they do or do not obtain, they do not return till each

one has caught a small common snake which lives in holes at the mangrove

roots. The sound of the orega (which is still constantly beaten) seems

to act as a charm, and the snake emerges from its hole and is readily

caught; or the hand is boldly thrust into the hole in search of the

reptile. In starting out on this fishing the new members do not know that

they are to handle snakes. They go as on a happy fishing excursion.

Really, it is their final test. They are told to put their hands into

these holes, and not to let go of the "fish" they shall seize there. The

novice obeys, but presently screams in alarm as she feels a snake-like

form wriggling about her hand. Her teacher terribly threatens her; she

begs to be excused, dares not let go, and is compelled to pull out the

snake twining about her arm. They all then return to the camp, each with

her snake in her basket. It is not known what is done with these snakes.

The teacher is to be paid for her services. As the pupils come from

different villages, each one has to ask her teacher's permission to go to

her relatives to collect the fee. This is done a few days before the final

day. They are allowed to go, but with an escort to watch them that they

break no rule of the initiation. They do not go into the houses, nor do

they speak. They stand in the street. Those who escort them have to do the

talking, thus: "We have come to collect our money, as the Njembe

will soon be done." If they get a plenty, the pupils are glad; otherwise

they have to stand in the hot sun uncovered, except by their crown-like

wreath of lycopodium fern. It is a trying and humiliating position for any

girl whose people are poor or unwilling. She must stand there till some

one of her people shall contribute what the escort deems sufficient.

Having collected each her fee for the teacher, the pupils go back to her

at the village, and seat themselves on the ground under the eaves of the

houses on one side of the street, each with her pile of goods near her.

The teacher eyes these piles, and selects the girl who apparently has the

most, to be the first to begin to pay. Just previous to this, stalks of

amomum are laid down in the street, parallel to each other, about eighteen

inches apart, in number according with the teacher's random guess of the

number of articles in the chosen pile. Then she lays the articles of the

pile, one by one, on the amomum stalk. Then another of the teachers seizes

the hand of the girl who owned these goods, and swinging her from side to

side, runs with her rapidly over that line of goods, herself stepping

carefully on the interspaces, but apparently trying to confuse the girl

into stepping on and breaking some one of the articles, _e. g._, a mirror

or a plate. This ordeal safely passed, the goods of that girl are accepted

and put aside near the teacher. The goods of each of the other new girls

are treated in the same way, and laid, one by one, on the amomum stalks.

The number of some girl's articles may not equal the standard set by the

first, and there may be not enough to cover every stalk. In that case the

teacher will allow some article, _e. g._, a head of tobacco-leaves, to be

opened and its separate leaves used to piece out the number. Nevertheless,

she will demand that something be added. It is an anxious time for the

pupils, watching to see whether their fee is accepted. Sometimes the

teacher, seeing that a girl's pile of goods is small, will not even

attempt to count or divide it, but, looking at it, sneeringly says, "I see

nothing here! Sit you there in the sun till some one brings you more!"

The last act of the "last day," before adjourning, is a public dance

called Njegâ (Leopard). For that, the members of the society, and most

spectators, dress up in fine clothes. It is performed in the afternoon,

and visitors go to see it. The "Leopard" is done by the teachers, two at a

time. All these pairs must have their faces painted, each in a different

style, no piece of skin left untouched.

In beginning the Leopard dance, one of the pair imitates a leopard

sneaking around the corners of the houses; while the other one, waiting,

has collected perhaps a dozen of the members as her "children," whom she

as their "mother" is to guard from the "leopard." This teacher-mother

begins a song, "Children! there is the leopard in shape of a person,"

adding as a refrain the word, "Mbwero! mbwero! mbwero!" which is repeated

rapidly as a warning that the leopard is coming, ending with, "my

children!" They sing, and step backward and forward to a drum

accompaniment. While these "children" are in great pretended excitement,

the leopard is advancing slowly, steadily, and nearer from the ogwerina

(rear of the houses) into the street, with extended tongue, and growling.

When the mother sees this, her dance step grows quicker, and she backs and

motions to her children behind her, they imitating all her steps. The

leopard advances with a swaying step in time with the music, and then

suddenly dashes forward, and catches one of the children, and sets her

aside. This is kept up by the leopard till most of the children are

caught, only one or two being left. The mother then seems very much

exhausted, with a sad slow step; but the leopard at last catches the

others. Now that her children are all dead, the mother is aroused to fury.

The conflict remains between her and the leopard. And "mother" must

finally kill "leopard." The dance becomes very much more rapid; the two

approach nearer and nearer. Mother has a stick like a sword, and finally

she kills leopard with a light blow. This coup is received by a shout from

the spectators of "o-lo-lo!"

Then another pair are selected to go through the parts of mother and

leopard again. Sometimes one will refuse to act, or to be mated with the

other one. Then, like a singer in civilized lands, she is met with

entreaties from the crowd, "Do act! You know so well how to do it!" And

then she yields. If at the last there is remaining only one teacher who

has not done the act, one of those who has already performed will mate

with her.

At night, the last work of the society is to put out their fire. If the

leader has come from a distant village, she wants to go, and she will

extinguish the fire that night; or, if she lives near, she may choose to

wait several days longer. But during that time the dancing and singing are

not kept up, for the society has adjourned.

Whatever else is unknown of the objects of Njembe, it is known that

it is a government. It was formerly much more powerful than it is now. At

Libreville, Gabun, thirty years ago, no woman dared to speak against it.

Mission school-girls, feeling themselves secure on the mission premises,

sometimes in their school-girl talk foolishly made disparaging remarks

about it. When this reached the ear of Njembe, those girls would

some day be caught when they were visiting their villages, and forced

through the rites. Parents did not dare interfere, and missionaries had no

authority to do so.

In one case, however, a missionary did make a successful interference. The

girl did not belong to Mpongwe (the tribe of Gabun); she was a slave-waif

that had been picked up by the mission, and therefore, in a sense, the

mission's daughter. The senior missionary, Rev. William Walker, was a

tall, powerful, utterly fearless man, and his custom was always to carry a

heavy cane. That day, the Njembe lessons that were being given to

the abducted girl had only begun in the village street; she had not yet

been taken to their secret camp. Mr. Walker strode among the women and

laid hold of the unresisting girl. When some women attempted to drag her

away, he brought down his cane heavily at random over any head or shoulder

within reach of his long arm; and the girl was glad to be led back to the

mission. The rescue was successful. Mr. Walker's use of force was

justifiable as against Njembe's forcible abduction of the girl; and

his parental position in the case would have justified him if the women

had made any complaint against him before the local French magistrate on

charge of assault.

In a somewhat similar case, more recently, Njembe sued a missionary,

he having assaulted them when they refused to remove their distressingly

noisy camp from a too great proximity to the mission grounds. The

magistrate dismissed the case, resenting Njembe's existence as a

secret society, and its assumption of exercise of governmental authority.

Recently also a native man was successful in thwarting Njembe. A

certain native Christian woman had escaped being forced into Njembe

during her youth; and by her being very much in mission employ during her

adult years, Njembe had ceased to threaten her. Her daughter, of

about eighteen years of age, though not a Christian, had also, by her

mother's care of her, escaped, though often threatened. A cousin of this

daughter had been put through the rite while her father was away on a

journey. And now this cousin was trying to induce the daughter to enter.

The daughter refused, and perhaps may have made some slighting remark.

This remark her cousin reported to Njembe; and some intimations were

made that the young woman would be seized. The father of the cousin had

formerly been a church-member, is educated and gentlemanly. Though he had

fallen away from the church, he had no desire to see his niece dragged

down. He spoke severely to his daughter about the excitement she was

trying to raise, and threatened to call in the aid of the French Chief of

Police. The firm stand taken by him and also by the young woman's mother

was efficient in preventing her seizure by Njembe. Both these

parents are of unusual strength of character and advance in civilization.

Without their efficient backing, this young woman would have been forced

into Njembe.

Rev. J. L. Wilson,[88] wrote of Njembe almost fifty years ago:

"There is no spirit, so far as is known, connected with this association,

but all its proceedings are kept profoundly secret. The Njembe make

great pretensions, and as a body are really feared by the men. They

pretend to detect thieves, to find out the secrets of their enemies; and

in various ways they are useful to the community in which they live, or,

at least, are so regarded by the people. The object of the institution

originally, no doubt, was to protect the females from harsh treatment on

the part of their husbands; and as their performances are always veiled in

mystery, and they have acquired the reputation of performing wonders, the

men are, no doubt, very much restrained by the fear and respect which they

have for them as a body."

Most of the above description is, after so many years, true now, except

that the power of and respect for the society is lessened by the

permeating leaven of a Christian mission and by the dominance of a foreign

government; but even in that same region, in portions where these two

forces are not in immediate contact with the community, Njembe still

is feared.

It is true, also, that there is no special spirit belonging to

Njembe, but when the society has occasion to investigate a theft or

other crime, it invokes the usual ilâgâ and other spirits.

It is also still true that in the tribes where Njembe exists women

have much more freedom from control by men than in tribes where it does

not exist. But even if it has been thus a defence to women against man's

severity, it undeniably has been an injury to them by its indecent

ceremonies and phallic songs. Such things may make men fear them, but also

make it impossible for men to respect them.

Those songs I myself have heard when the Njembe camp was in a jungle

near to a village. The male generative organ was personified, and, in the

song addressed to it, the name of a certain man, who was known by the

singers to be at that very time in the adjacent village, was tauntingly

referred to. Even immoral men were overwhelmed with shame at the

shamelessness of the women. And yet those same women, when their

Njembe adjourned, resumed in their individual capacities their usual

apparent modesty which, as a collective body, they had cast aside. Little

has been printed of Njembe's secret proceedings more than Dr. Wilson

wrote fifty years ago.

Paul Du Chaillu makes a short statement that he was allowed to witness a

part; and he describes a hut containing a few almost nude old women

sitting around some skulls and other fetiches. Doubtless he saw what he

asserts. But, unusual as were his opportunities, and large as was his

personal influence with his "Camma" (Nkâmi) native chiefs, it is positive

that what was shown him was only a little of Njembe, if indeed it

was Njembe at all.

Other white men, with, indeed, perhaps less tact than he, but of greater

money power and larger trade opportunities, failed to see anything.

Some twenty-five years ago two Germans (now dead) trading in the Gabun

determined secretly to spy out Njembe.

The merchant, the head of the trading-house, was a well-educated

gentleman, and his clerk was an active, intelligent young man. Both knew

native customs well, and both spoke the Mpongwe language fluently. Each

had a native wife, and being generous and liberal-handed, had many native

friends; but they had been unable to bribe any Njembe women, even

their own wives, to reveal anything.

One dark night when the society was in session in a small jungle not far

from their trading-house, they went secretly and cautiously through the

bushes. They had not approached near enough to the circle of women around

the camp-fire to actually recognize any of them (it would have been

difficult to recognize their painted faces even by daylight); and they

really did not see anything of what was being done. Somehow their approach

was discovered, either by information treacherously carried from some one

in their retinue of household servants, or by being seen by one of the

pickets of the camp, or by the breaking of a branch as they crept through

the trees, or, possibly, by their white odor carried on the wind,--odor

which to Africans is almost as distinct as is Negro odor to the white

race.

Njembe raised a frenzied cry, and started to seize them. The two men

fled desperately through the thick bushes. The clerk was recognized, and

his name was called out, and the other was assumed to be his employer.

They escaped to the safety of their house. Njembe did not dare

assault it, French policemen being within call; but next day word was sent

by the society denouncing them both, laying a curse on them, and plainly

saying that they should die. If the threat had been that the means of

death would be magic, these gentlemen would have laughed; but the women

did not hesitate to say that they would poison them in their food. This

would be entirely possible, even without collusion among the several men

and boys that ranged from steward to cook and waiters as their household

servants; though, if need were, some of these servants would sooner be

treasonable to the white master than dare to refuse Njembe. The case

was serious. The older man, as a dispenser of wealth to the entire

community, was, even in Njembe's eye, too valuable to be killed; his

wife, herself a Njembe woman, interceded for him, and the curse was

removed from him on the payment of a large fine. But the curse was doubled

over the poor clerk. Njembe would listen to no appeal, nor accept

any bribe for him, as they had actually seen him at their camp.

It is a fact that shortly after this this clerk did fall into a decline,

with strange symptoms which no doctor understood nor any medicines seemed

to touch. He became weaker and weaker, and his life was despaired of.

Njembe openly boasted that it was killing him.

I do not know why an appeal was not made to the local French authorities.

Perhaps because the merchant did not wish to give more publicity to his

escapade; perhaps because it would be difficult to prosecute a society, no

individual Njembe woman appearing to be responsible.

To save his clerk, the merchant offered to pay a very large sum.

Njembe having had a partial revenge, having demonstrated its power,

and standing victorious before the community, was induced to accept. It

was never known publicly how much was paid. The curse was withdrawn, and

the clerk immediately began to recover; but it was some months before the

evil was entirely eradicated from his system.

Beyond Dr. Wilson's and Du Chaillu's short statements about Njembe,

I have seen nothing else in print, except the mere mention of the

existence of the society by several African travellers. What I have

written in the above I have obtained piecemeal at various times from

different men and women, Christian and heathen; but all of them spoke with

hesitation, and under promise that I should mention no names.

POISONING FOR REVENGE.

There are native poisons. It is known that sometimes they are secretly

used in revenge, or to put out of the way a relative whose wealth is

desired to be inherited. This much I have to admit, as to charges of

"bewitching" and so-called "judicial executions," therefore, that in the

case of some deaths they are actual murders, and that the perpetrator

deserves to be executed. But it is rare that the proof of guilt is clear.

I have to be guarded in my admission of an accused person's guilt, lest I

give countenance to the universal belief in death as the result of fetich

agencies. I explain to my native questioner: If what the accused has done

in fetich rite with intent to kill had any efficiency for taking away

life, I allow that he shall be put to death; if he made only fetiches,

even if they were intended to kill, he is not guilty of this death, for a

mere fetich cannot kill. But if he used poison, with or without fetich,

then he is guilty.

But even so, the distinction between a fetich and a poison is vague in the

thought of many natives. What I call a "poison" is to them only another

material form of a fetich power, both poison and fetich being supposed to

be made efficient by the presence of an adjuvant spirit.

Not all the deaths of foreigners in Africa are due to malaria. Some of

them have been doubtless due to poison, administered by a revengeful

employee. Very many white residents in Africa treat their servants in

oppressive and cruel ways. Even those who are not cruel are often

autocratic and arbitrary. In a country that has little law to hinder, and

no public opinion to shame them, some white men treat the natives almost

as slaves, cheating them of their wages, cursing, kicking, striking,

beating, and otherwise maltreating and even mutilating them. Some are kind

and just; but even they are at times severe in enforcing their authority.

So it could occur that even a kindly-disposed foreigner might have his

life attempted by an evil-disposed employee whose anger he had aroused.

In general, the Bantu natives of Africa are patient, long-suffering, and

not easily aroused to violence, but taking their revenge, if finally their

endurance is exhausted, by robbing their master of his goods or otherwise

wasting his trade; abandoning him in sickness, so that he dies really of

neglect, or, when his boat upsets in the surf of the sea, making no effort

to rescue him.

The Bantu tribes are less revengeful and more amiable than the Negroes of

Upper Guinea, or the tribes of Senegal and of the Sudan, with their

mixture of Arab blood and Mahometan beliefs.

An English traveller recently, in the Igbo country of Nigeria, in

discussing the native belief in occult forces, says: "It is impossible for

a white man to be present at their gatherings of 'medicine men,' and it is

hard to get a native to talk of such things; but it seems evident to me

that there is some reality in the phenomena one hears of, as they are

believed everywhere in some degree by white men as well as black. However

that may be, the native doctors have a wide knowledge of poisons; and if

one is to believe reports, deaths from poison, both among white and black

men, are of common occurrence on the Niger. One of the white man's often

quoted proverbs is, 'Never quarrel with your cook'; the meaning of which

is that the cook can put something in your food in retaliation if you

maltreat him.

"There is everywhere a belief that it is possible to put medicine on a

path for your enemy which, when he steps over it, will cause him to fall

sick and die. Other people can walk uninjured over the spot, but the

moment the man for whom the medicine is laid reaches the place, he

succumbs, often dying within an hour or two. I have never seen such a case

myself; but the Rev. A. E. Richardson says he saw one when on the journey

with Bishop Tugwell's house-party. He could offer no explanation of how

the thing is done, but does not doubt that it is done. Some of the best

educated of our native Christians have told me that they firmly believe in

this 'medicine-laying.'"

The most distinct instance of attempt at poisoning which I have met was

related to me in March, 1902, by Mr. H. L. Stacey, of the English

trading-house of J. Holt & Co. Ltd. I took the following statement from

his own lips, and he gave me liberty to use it publicly. He has since

died, and his death was sudden.

Mr. Stacey was a gentleman of courteous manner and of good education;

fearless, universally kind, and generally just in his treatment of the

natives. He was a Christian in his belief, and endeavored to be one in his

life. His truthfulness is beyond doubt, thus making his statement entirely

reliable.

He had his headquarters at Bata, with native sub-traders scattered north

and south and up the Benita River, some twenty-three miles south of Bata.

There came to him for employment a Lagos man, by name Croly or Crowley. He

spoke English well, could read and write, had quite a display of manner,

and made himself very useful by his apparent devotion, faithfulness, and

honesty. All this deceived Mr. Stacey, who thought he had obtained a

valuable servant; and rewarded him by giving him a sub-factory at Lobisa,

a few miles up the Benita River. To have a factory of one's own is the

goal of the ambition of every white trader's employees.

Mr. Stacey had also a Benga sub-trader on the river at Senje, some ten

miles above Lobisa. This Benga went to Bata and reported to Mr. Stacey

that Crowley was wasting his goods in riotous living and extravagant

giving. While the Benga was away, Crowley falsely told the native Fang,

who had been paid in advance by the former to collect india-rubber for

him, that the Benga had been dismissed, was in jail, and would never come

back, and induced them to sell to himself the rubber they had collected

for the Benga. When the Benga returned to his post, and asked his Fang to

pay their debt, they told him of the deception Crowley had practised on

them. There was, therefore, a triangular quarrel, the Benga suing the Fang

for their debt to him, the Fang denouncing Crowley for his cheat, and

Crowley angry at the Benga for informing Mr. S. on him.

Just at this stage of affairs Mr. S. came on one of his usual visits of

inspection to Senje. The Fang immediately sent secretly a deceptive

message down to Crowley, saying that Mr. S. wished to see him. As soon as

he came, the Fang began to fight him. Notwithstanding Crowley's dishonesty

to him, Mr. S. magnanimously defended his life, locked him for safety in

the Benga's bedroom, and then made the quarrel a quadrilateral by

protesting to the Fang against their assaulting his premises. His

contention with them was "talked" in public "palaver," and finally was

amicably settled. During the "talk" a lad came to Mr. S. excitedly, saying

that Crowley was spreading "medicine" in the bed of the Benga, with intent

to kill the latter. This aroused again the indignation of the Fang. But

Mr. S. laughed down their anxiety, telling them that he was not afraid of

"medicine" (he thought it was only fetich); that fetich could not kill a

white man; and that, to prove it, he would that night sleep in that bed,

and the Benga should sleep elsewhere. When all was settled, he got Crowley

quietly away, and sent him down river to his Lobisa house, with

expectation of dismissal. At night Mr. S. awoke with a great pain in his

abdomen, a great sense of constriction in his chest, skin hot, and body

tortured with shooting pains. Only his head was clear and free from any

distress. The symptoms were not those of malarial fever. The next day his

limbs were paralyzed. The natives said that Crowley had scattered in the

bedding and through the mosquito net a poisonous powder.

Mr. S. was taken helpless in his canoe down river, on the way passing very

near Lobisa, to a house on the sea-beach near the river's mouth. Believing

that Crowley had attempted the life of the Benga, Mr. S., while lying

sick, sent word to the adjacent Spanish Government Post for two soldiers

to come and arrest Crowley. (Mr. S. had been informed that C. was on his

way to him.) For C., when he saw Mr. S. lying sick in his passing canoe,

surmised what had happened, and was afraid the Fang would follow him to

Lobisa and assault him there. So he had closed his house and fled,

following Mr. S. He was coming with a double purpose: first, to plead with

Mr. S. against dismissal; second, as he promptly had heard of Mr. Stacey's

sleeping in the poisoned bed and being sick, he feared arrest and was

ready also to make the murder plan complete, if his plea for mercy was

denied. To this end he came prepared with a handful of the powder.

Before he had reached the house where Mr. S. was, the two soldiers had met

and arrested him, and were taking him to jail. He asked permission first

to be allowed to see his "master." So they brought him to the sick-room,

where he made many protestations of friendship and devotion, and plead for

mercy. Mr. S. rebuked the soldiers for hesitating in their duty, and for

having brought their prisoner there, and bade them take him away to the

magistrate; then he fell back on his pillow exhausted, and lay with closed

eyes, only semi-conscious. The soldiers went out of the room, leaving C.

clinging to the bed. He fell on his knees by Mr. S.'s head, as if still to

beg for pardon. Mr. S. felt C.'s hand insinuated under the bed cover near

his pillow, and suddenly opened his eyes, to find C.'s closed hand near

his face. He struck away the hand. A quantity of dark powder fell on the

pillow near his nose. Half suffocated, by an effort he shouted to the

soldiers, who came and took C. away. Mr. Stacey's little waiter-boy, who

had also come in at the shout, was horrified to see the poison-powder on

the pillow. He snatched away the pillow, threw the powder out of doors,

and told the soldiers. They, without waiting for official judgment at the

Post, gave C. twenty-five lashes at once. Farther blows, twenty-five at a

time, were given him while waiting in jail for Mr. S. to get well enough

to appear against him. Subsequently the _Chef de Poste_ appointed a day

for the hearing; but Mr. S., in his devotion to the trade interests of his

employers, asked that the day be postponed, as his sub-traders needed just

then much supervision. So the _Chef_ dismissed the matter, seeming to

think that if Mr. S. regarded his trade as of more importance than the

defence of his life, it was no business of the government to hold the

prisoner; and took no farther interest in it.

Having been given, in instalments, an aggregate of two hundred lashes, C.

was discharged. He wandered about that region gathering a little food,

without friends, feared and hated, and not allowed by some even to enter

their villages.

The reputation of the Lagos powder as a powerful agent in destroying life

has been known for years among the equatorial coast tribes. Reports of it

are well known among white men on the steamers. It is believed in, not as

a superstition, nor as a fetich, but as a powerful poison. Clerks and

other workmen from Lagos are not welcomed in the Gabun region, as are

clerks from other parts of Upper Guinea, for fear of their carrying that

poison with them.

DISTRUST.

As a result of the universal employment of fetiches in African tribes,

there is no confidence between man and man. Every one is in distrust of

his neighbor; every man's hand against his fellow.

"The natives of Africa, though so thoroughly devoted to the use of

fetiches, acquire no feeling of security in consequence of using them.

Perhaps their only real influence is to make them more insecure than they

would have been without them. There is no place in the world where men

feel more insecurity. A man must be careful whose company he keeps, what

path he walks, whose house he enters, on what stool he seats himself,

where he sleeps. He knows not what moment he may place his foot or lay his

hand upon some invisible engine of mischief, or by what means the seeds of

death may be implanted in his constitution."[89]

Because of this lack of confidence, the natural affections and the duties

of the dearest relations are perverted. Wives afraid of husbands, and

husbands afraid of wives; children afraid of parents, and parents afraid

of children; the chief of the village uncertain of his people; and the

entire community that must live and eat and associate together, living and

eating and associating with a constant secretly entertained suspicion of

each other.

JUGGLERY.

While in some of the rites performed by the native doctor-priest there is

real diabolism, _i. e._, communication with Satan, and certain wonders are

performed through the Prince of the Power of Darkness, I am disposed to

believe that in most cases the "doctor" is self-deceived, certainly in

many cases I believe him to be a deliberate deceiver. The native so-called

"prophet" is probably an artful mind-reader; and the fortune-teller, like

our own fortune-tellers, a skilful observer of the subject's tones,

manner, and unguarded admissions in conversation which give ground for

shrewd guessing.

Arnot[90] says: "These professional diviners are no doubt smart fellows,

arch-rogues though they be. The secret of their art lies in their constant

repetition of every possibility in connection with the disaster they are

called upon to explain until they finally hit upon that which is in the

minds of their clients. As the people sit around and repeat the words of

the diviner, it is easy for him to detect in their tone of voice or to

read in their faces the suspected source of the calamity.

"A man had a favorite dog which was attacked by a leopard, but succeeded

in escaping with one of its eyes torn out. To ascertain the reason of this

calamity, the owner sent to call one of these diviners. When he arrived,

to test him, he was told that a disaster had befallen my acquaintance, and

was asked to find out by divination what it was. The diviner with his

rattles and other paraphernalia, and dances, and other movements to occupy

attention, after the manner of jugglers, asked leading questions of the

spirit he was professing to consult, but really he was watching the faces

of his audience for their unconsciously given assent or dissent. Thus, in

succession, he found that the misfortune, whatever it was, was not to a

human being; then not to certain families; then to some object possessed

by a certain man; then that it was not about an ox nor about a goat; then

that it was about a dog; then, after certain other possibilities, was it

connected with a leopard? So excited were the audience that they forgot

that they had been 'giving themselves away,' and when the diviner asked

the spirit, 'Was it a leopard?' they shouted with admiration at his

supposed skill. After a whole day of such proceedings the diviner

triumphed by announcing 'that the spirit of the father of one of the man's

wives had been grieved at the man's long absence from his town and family,

and had employed the leopard to tear the dog's eye as a gentle reminder

that it was time he should go back to his own village.'"

In connection with the Yoruba custom of parents of twins having images

carved of their dead twins, "the carving of those images is a flourishing

and money-making trade. If the parents of the dead child are in

comfortable circumstances, the carvers tell them that they have seen in

their dreams the dead twin, and that he or she has asked them to send such

and such clothes, articles of food, money, etc.

"Sometimes they say the twins appeared to them in the forest when they

went to cut the Ire-wood to be carved, and bade them not to venture it. In

such cases special sacrifices must be offered before taking any steps. In

this way months pass before the carving is complete; during which time

the carvers demand of the parents whatever they feel they are capable of

supplying them with."[91]

In the Corisco region, some thirty years ago, I knew a native sorcerer who

achieved quite a reputation because he could perform the thimble-rig

juggler-trick of making a leaf appear and disappear between two plates.

One of my associates in the Ogowe, the late H. M. Bachelor, M.D., had

brought with him from the United States a few tricks of "parlor magic." He

quite astonished my school-children by swallowing and subsequently

vomiting up a penknife, and by passing a threaded needle through the thigh

of one of the boys. Dr. B. did the tricks so artistically that even I did

not detect the deception about the penknife; and the boy solemnly asserted

that he felt the needle travelling through his leg. The exhibition was a

happy one in revealing to the natives how an evil-disposed sorcerer would

be able to deceive them.

A lady of the West African Mission of the American Board says: "I once

witnessed the performance of a witch-doctor on one of my visits among the

villages. The chief of the country was sick, and the doctor was giving him

a massage treatment. By sleight of hand he seemed to draw from the

patient's side chicken's claws, feathers, bones, sticks, pebbles, etc.

Some "witch," it was supposed, had caused these things to grow in the

man's body with intent to kill. It was evident to the astonished crowd

which had gathered around, that their king would probably get well, now

these things were removed. The doctor's bill was promptly paid,--a

thousand balls of rubber, ten pieces of cloth, and a large pig. An ox was

slaughtered, and a beer drink indulged in to celebrate the occasion and to

appease any offended spirit."

TREATMENT OF LUNATICS.

The insane being supposed to be physically and mentally possessed by an

intruding spirit, their actions are necessarily not considered to be the

outcome of their own volitions. This view does not always, in the native

mind, relieve a lunatic of the burden of the consequences of his acts.

There is great diversity, therefore, in the treatment of the insane in

different districts and in different tribes. In some regions a tribe holds

to the following reasoning: This person is possessed by a spirit. That

spirit is occupying his body and using his voice and limbs for some

reason. If we interfere with this person's doings, then we will be

interfering with the spirit and may bring evil on ourselves. Therefore it

is considered proper to make offerings and some degree of worship to the

incarnated spirit. But it is not true that the lunatic himself is an

object of worship. The gifts and sacrifices are made solely to and for the

spirit; the prayer of the petitioners being that it may refrain from

inciting the possessed person to do them evil, and in the hope that it may

conclude to depart and leave the patient and them alone.

In other places this same belief of possession leads to a very different

logical conclusion. The thought is: This person is possessed by an evil

spirit; if we allow him to remain, that evil spirit will do us only evil;

let us put this man, who is thus being utilized for evil, out of the way,

and perhaps in so doing we may get rid of the possessing spirit also. So

the lunatic is put to death. The manner of death sometimes chosen is a

cruel one, as if thereby the spirit itself might also be injured or

incapacitated to do further evil. Observe that this cruelty is not

directed against the demented human being, but against the indwelling

spirit. The maniac in being put to death is sometimes beaten with clubs,

sometimes burned, sometimes drowned, as if the evil possessing spirit

might itself be fractured or charred or sunk.

The forms of lunacy I have seen are mild, rarely maniacal. The lunatics I

have met in the Gabun region were both men and women. Among women I have

thought a cause was uterine complications; among both men and women,

excessive use of tobacco; in two cases of men the cause was

hashish-smoking. These last were characterized by a deep melancholy; all

the others were marked by absurd hallucinations. Undeniably, in two cases

in Gabun, the paroxysms were influenced by the stage of the moon.

The only medication of which the natives know is exorcism by fetich with

drum and dance, baths and purgatives. When a person is discovered to be

crazy, he is taken to the doctor, who gathers medicinal barks and leaves,

makes a very hot decoction, and puts it under a seat on which is placed

the patient. Both seat and patient are covered by a cloth, and he is

subjected to a severe sweating process. During this time the doctor calls

out to the supposed possessing spirit, "Who are you? who are you?" Perhaps

the sick man will say (his voice supposed to be under control of nkinda),

"I am So-and-so." The doctor replies, "Eh! you So-and-so! leave him, or I

will catch you and put you in prison." The prison is a section of

sugar-cane stalk with its leaves twined together; and the doctor is

believed to be able to confine the nkinda there. And it remains there

indefinitely; but it may be released by the will of the doctor, who will

choose to free it some day unless he is paid not to do so. Sometimes the

crazy person has so many sinkinda that he becomes a maniac, losing all

sense of shame or even of hunger. In such a case he is tied till he

becomes quiet and the doctor announces that the sinkinda have all gone

out. The patient is then washed, and the doctor with song and drum calls

on good sinkinda to come and enter, and directs them to take care of the

man's body.

THE AMERICAN NEGRO VOODOO.

When the Negro was brought to America as a slave, he brought with him a

variety of African things, some good, some bad.

When hurried upon the slave-ships in the Kongo or at Lagos, the slave tied

into a little package, hung among his other fetich treasures, seeds of his

favorite foods. At least one of these seeds survived, in the West Indies

and thence to the United States, with a native name "gumbo." It is the

okra (Abelmoschus esculentus), that exists all over Africa, and has spread

over the United States.

Ground-nuts--"pea-nuts" (Arachis hypogea), which botanists claim to be a

native of South America--have been grown from time immemorial all over

Africa, and, in the Loango country bordering on the Kongo River, by the

Ashira and some other tribes are used as their staple article of food,

rather than the plantain (Musa sapientum), or "manioc," cassava (Jatropha

manihot). It is an important export from those regions and from the Gambia

to-day. If the nut itself was not carried from Africa to America, its

native name was; that name is "mbenda," and it was corrupted to "pindar"

in parts of the Southern States.

The evil thing that the slave brought with him was his religion. You do

not need to go to Africa to find the fetich. During the hundred years that

slavery in our America held the Negro crushed, degraded, and apart, his

master could deprive him of his manhood, his wife, his child, the fruits

of his toil, of his life; but there was one thing of which he could not

deprive him,--his faith in fetich charms. Not only did this religion of

the fetich endure under slavery; it grew. None but Christian masters

offered the Negro any other religion; and, by law, even they were debarred

from giving him any education. So fetichism flourished. The master's

children were infected by the contagion of superstition; they imbibed some

of it at their Negro foster-mother's breast. It was a secret religion that

lurked thinly covered in slavery days, and that lurks to-day beneath the

Negro's Christian profession as a white art, and among non-professors as a

black art; a memory of the revenges of his African ancestors; a secret

fraternity among slaves of far-distant plantations, with words and

signs,--the lifting of a finger, the twitch of an eyelid,--that

telegraphed from house to house with amazing rapidity (as to-day in

Africa) current news in old slave days and during the late Civil War;

suspected, but never understood by the white master; which, as a

superstition, has spread itself among our ignorant white masses as the

"Hoodoo." Vudu, or Odoism, is simply African fetichism transplanted to

American soil.

"It is almost impossible for persons who have been brought up under this

system ever to divest themselves fully of its influence. It has been

retained among the blacks of this country, and especially at the South,

though in a less open form, even to the present day, and probably will

never be fully abandoned until they have made much higher attainments in

Christian education and civilization. In some of the plantations of the

South, as well as in the West Indies, where there has been less Christian

culture, egg-shells are hung up in the corners of their chimneys to cause

the chickens to flourish; an extracted tooth is thrown over the house or

worn around the neck to prevent other teeth from aching; and real

fetiches, though not known by this name [perhaps "mascots"?], are used

about their persons to shield them from sickness or from the effects of

witchcraft."[92]

While on a furlough in the United States in 1891, I visited a town in

Southern Virginia, and by invitation of the Negro pastor of the African

church addressed them on foreign missions. Somewhat at a loss what

attitude to take toward a Negro audience in speaking to them of Africa, I

candidly asked the pastor what I should say. He bade me speak exactly as

if I was addressing an educated white assembly. I did so. In describing

native African virtues and vices, I mentioned their fetichism, and

remarked that it was the same that obtained in the United States; and lest

my hearers might think I was personally attacking them, I added, "down

South in Georgia and Louisiana." The bench of elders sitting just in front

of me broke out, "And jist around hyar, too."

I had read Cable's "Creole Tales." One of his characters is sick with a

strange vague affection whose symptoms medicine had failed to reach. He is

superstitious, and one morning he wakes in horror at finding a dead frog

secreted under his pillow. That fetich was no novelist's conjecture; it

was true to life. About 1894 or 1895, while I was alone in charge of Gabun

Station, for three successive mornings when I opened the front door, I

found a dried frog leaning against the threshold. I did not care enough

about it to inquire its significance or to ascertain who put it there.

Since then I have found that it is not used as a fetich by people of the

Gabun region, but probably by Upper Coast people. I remember that at that

time I had three Bassa workmen from Liberia whom I suspected of stealing

and who then suddenly deserted my service. I think they placed the frog

there, either to injure me or to prevent my following up their theft.

FOLK-LORE.

An attractive survival of African life in America are "Uncle Remus's"

mystic tales of "Br'er Rabbit." They are the folk-lore that the slave

brought with him from his African home, where in village hut and forest

camp often have been told to my own ears similar weird personifications

before Harris had actually written them. There being no rabbits in West

Africa, "Br'er Rabbit" is an American substitution for "Brother" Njâ

(Leopard), or Brother Iheli (Gazelle), in Paia Njambi's (the Creator's)

council of speaking animals.

CHAPTER XVI

TALES OF FETICH BASED ON FACT

The view-point of the native African mind, in all unusual occurrences, is

that of witchcraft. Without looking for an explanation in what

civilization would call _natural_ causes, his thought turns at once to the

supernatural. Indeed, the supernatural is so constant a factor in his

life, that to him it furnishes explanation of events as prompt and

reasonable as our reference to the recognized forces of nature. Mere

coincidences are often to him miracles.

In the large mass of materials which I gathered from all native sources of

information for the formulation of the philosophy of fetichism, as

presented in the former part of this work, I found many remarkable tales

some of whose incidents were probable, and which to me were explicable on

natural grounds, but which my native friends believed were the effect of

witchcraft power. I did not dispute them. To do so would either have

closed their lips or made them omit the witchcraft element from any

subsequent stories they might narrate to me. I thus secured these tales as

a purely native product.

I did not use a note-book, fearing that its presence would hamper the

freedom of the story-teller, but listened carefully and wrote down the

interview immediately at its close. Not all knew that I was writing for

publication. That knowledge would have interfered with the simplicity of

their utterances. Of my several informants, some were ignorant, some

heathen, some Christian, only a few well educated. Of the most intelligent

of my informants, two allowed me to take notes as they were speaking, and

I really wrote from dictation; they considerately spoke slowly, so that I

should miss nothing, while I wrote rapidly and at the same time had to

translate their language into English. Of those two, one was able to give

part of the interview in English. The thoughts in these stories are

entirely native. So are most of the words. I tried to retain the

narrators' own structure of sentences, sacrificing a little of English for

the sake of native idioms. The prevalence of short words is due to my

effort at exact translation of their own words. Occasionally I have used

longer words of Latin origin because I had forgotten their word, and in an

effort to repeat their idea. The shortness of the sentences is due to the

natives' graphic and animated style of speaking. Long sentences are

foreign to their mode of speech.

The following two stories are illustrative of the native belief, mentioned

in Chapter IV, that we possess not only our physical body, but also an

essential or "astral" form, in shape and feature like the body. This form,

or "life," with its "heart," can be stolen by magic power while one is

asleep, and the individual sleeps on unconscious of his loss. If the

life-form is returned to him before he awakes, he will be unaware that

anything unusual has happened. If he awakes before that portion of him has

been returned, though he may live for a while, he will sicken and

eventually die. If the magicians who stole the "life" have eaten the

"heart," he sickens at once, and will soon die.

I. A WITCH SWEETHEART.

A certain man loved a woman whom he expected to marry. He visited her

regularly. Whenever he intended to visit her, he always notified her thus:

"I will be coming such a day" or "such an hour." Then she would say,

"Yes." But it happened on a particular day when he told her, "I'll be

coming to-night," she said, "No, not to-night, wait till next night." He

replied, "No, for I will come to-night." But she refused, "No, I do not

want you to come to-night." Then he asked, "What is your objection?

Hitherto you have let me come when I pleased. What is the matter

to-night?" So she said, "I do not want you to come, because I will be

absent to-night." "Where are you going?" he asked. To this she gave as

answer only, "Don't come! I don't want you to come!" So the man said, "All

right! I will not come. If you don't want me, then I'm not coming." So he

left her, very much surprised at what she had said, and began to think

something was going wrong; he thought he would like to know for himself

what it was.

This woman was one of those who belonged to the Witch Society, and engaged

in its plays. But the man had not suspected this, and did not know that

she was one of those who played.

The native belief is that when a witch or wizard has seized some one to

"eat" his "life" or do him other harm, if there be a non-society witness

hidden or in the open, the odor of that witness weakens the witch power,

and the attempt at witchcraft fails.

This man, not suspecting the real state of the case, but in order to know

what was going on with the woman, came softly and hid near her house,

where he might be able to see whether any one went in or came out. Soon he

heard the door of her house open. He saw her come out of the house without

any clothing, and she quietly pulled the door to after her and closed it,

and then walked away from the place. All this the man saw, but he said

nothing. He stood outside waiting, waiting until she should return. After

a long while, as he was tired standing, he thought he would go into the

house and hide himself somewhere. It was not long after this that he heard

a little noise outside, and looking through the apertures of the bamboo

wall saw her and others with her, men and women. Some of them were

carrying the form of a man on their shoulders. Others spread out on the

ground green plantain leaves, and stretched the form on the leaves. Each

of the party had a knife, and they began their work of cutting the form

into pieces. While thus occupied, they saw that their knives would not

penetrate. Some of them began to step around, peeping into recesses as if

they were looking for something. Still trying to cut, their knives seemed

dulled; no one of them could succeed in cutting out a single piece. So

they stopped, and began to sharpen their knives, and again tried to cut,

using more force in their efforts. They worked rapidly, for they had to

hasten, as there were signs of approaching day.

As they still were unable to make any incisions after the sharpening of

the knives, they thought it very strange, and began to suspect that some

one was near witnessing what they were doing. So some of them began to

search in different directions; they sniffed to detect the odor of a

person. This they did over and over again, and came back, and again

sharpened their knives, and again they failed. And then they would again

go around, sniffing for a human being.

At last, as it was near morning, they had to give up their intention of

cutting into this form. So they had to take it up again on their shoulders

and carry it back to where they had brought it from, and lost their feast.

Then the woman came back to her house, very much disappointed and excited.

Though it was still dark, it was so near daybreak that she did not go to

bed, but took a light, and began to hunt all through her house, having at

last begun to suspect that perhaps her lover was there. Finally she found

him where he was hiding. She was very angry, saying, "Who told you to come

here? What brought you? And when did you come? Did I not tell you not to

come to-night?" But he turned on her, saying, "But where have you yourself

been? And what have you yourself been doing? I came here expecting to find

another man here. But that is not what I saw!"

She trembled, saying, "Have you been here a long time?" And he

significantly said, "Yes, I have!" Then, furious, she said, "Now you have

seen all that we were doing, and you have found me out! And as you have

discovered that I am engaged in witchcraft, and lest you tell others about

it, you shall see that I will put an end to your life! You shall not go

out of this house alive!" So she pulled out her knife. But the man was

quite strong, and though he had no weapon, made a hard fight. He was

stronger than the woman, was able to get away from her, and left the house

just before daylight.

From that day their friendship was broken; neither cared again to see the

face of the other. The man informed on the woman. But she was not

prosecuted; for no one was able to make specific complaint that they had

lost their "heart-life." That form had been restored to its person

unrecognized and uninjured. No one out of the society, not even the victim

himself, knew of the attempt that had been made on him.

II. A JEALOUS WIFE.

A man of the Orungu tribe in the Ogowe region had several wives, of whom

the chief, commonly called the "queen" or head-wife, had no children. This

was a grief to her and a disappointment to the husband. But one of his

younger women, who had now become his favorite, had a baby, and the

head-wife was jealous of her.

The husband still retained the older one as the bearer of the keys and in

direction of the other women, though he was beginning to doubt her, as he

suspected her of witchcraft. But he said nothing about it, not being sure.

It is believed that witches can enter houses without opening doors or

breaking walls, and can do what they please without other people knowing

of it at the time. So one night this man and his young wife were sleeping

in the same bed with their little babe. Suddenly, after midnight, the

mother happened to wake up startled. She missed her baby from the bed. She

looked and looked all over the bed from head to foot, and did not find it.

Then she was frightened, woke up her husband gently, and told him in a

whisper, "The child is missing! I don't see the child!"

The husband told her to get up and light a gum-torch (for there were coals

smouldering on the clay hearth used as a fireplace), that they might look

for the child. She did so, and both hunted, looking under the bedstead and

elsewhere, but did not find the child. Then they examined the windows and

door; for perhaps the child had been taken out by some one. The door and

windows were all properly fastened. The mother was very much troubled; but

her husband, keeping his own counsel, advised her not to scream or make a

noise, but said, "Let us go back to bed, but not to go to sleep; and let

the room be dark again." So the wife put out the torch, leaving the room

in darkness; and they returned to bed. Then the husband said, "Maybe we

can prove or see something before morning" (for he suspected); and he

added, "Whoever or whatever has taken the child out so secretly, will

secretly bring it back. So we must not sleep, but watch."

So both lay awake in bed for a few hours. Then, just before morning, while

it was still dark, they heard a little noise outside near the house, like

the rustling of wings and the panting of breath. They were both anxious,

and had their eyes wide open. Soon they saw the room flashed full of a

bright light from the roof. [Witchcraft people are noted for having a

light which they can thus flash.] Then the wife, as soon as she saw the

light, quietly nudged her husband; and he returned the pressure, to let

her know that he was aware, and also to intimate that she should continue

silent as himself; and they pretended to be sleeping soundly.

Soon they saw the figure of a woman descend from the low roof, but with no

hole in the roof. The figure came to the bedside and lifted up the edge of

the mosquito-net with one hand, in the other holding a child. As soon as

she attempted to put the baby back in its place, between the father and

mother, the father, as he was the stronger, and nearer to the figure on

the outside of the bed, got up quickly, and seized both hands of the woman

before she had time to let go of the child and escape from the room. He

said aloud to the mother, "Get up! Your baby has been missing. Now light

the light, and we will see the person face to face who has taken the child

out!"

The young mother did so, and they discovered that it was the head-wife who

had brought in the child.

Then, when the father felt the body of the babe, it was limp and burning

with fever.

As it was so near daylight the father did not delay, but began at once to

make a fuss, and shouted for the people of the village to gather together.

And he began a "palaver" (investigation) immediately. When all the people

had assembled to hear the palaver, both the father and the mother related

what had passed during the night, about their missing the child, and its

return.

The head-wife, being accused, was silent, having nothing to say for

herself; for she was both ashamed and afraid to confess that she had been

eating the life of the baby. But all the people knew that such things were

done, and they believed that this woman had done with the baby whatever

she wanted to do while she had it outside that night.

Then the father of the child tied up the head-woman, and said to her, "Now

I have you in my hands, I will not let you go until you give back the

baby's life, and make it well again." [The belief is that if the

"heart-life" has not been eaten the victim can recover.] This she was not

able to do, for she had eaten its "heart." So the next day the baby died.

And the husband executed that head-woman by cutting her throat.

* * * * *

The above incident was told me at Libreville by a very intelligent Mpongwe

as having actually occurred in the Gabun region. It is fully believed that

walls are no obstacle to the passage of the bodies of those possessing the

power of sorcery. The "light" spoken of I have seen. I do not know what it

was. From a small point it would flash with starlike rays. It was carried

by a man, who disappeared when pursued. A Christian native told me that he

once pursued it, and caught the bearer with a torch concealed in a hollow

cylinder; the flashing was caused by his thrusting it in and out of the

cylinder.

III. WITCHCRAFT MOTHERS.

(On an itineration in my boat on the Ogowe interior, in 1890, I came to a

village of the Akele tribe, whose inhabitants were in an intense state

of excitement. All the men were brandishing guns and spears or daggers;

women were gesticulating and screaming; the loins of all were girded for

fight; and a few only of the older men and some strangers were appealing

for quiet.

Among the latter was a native trader of the Mpongwe coast tribe. His trade

interests made for peace. I knew him, as he had received some education in

our Gabun school.

I saw that in such confusion it would be useless to attempt to ask a

hearing for my gospel message. I did not wait to inquire the cause of the

day's commotion, and passed on to another village.

Subsequently the Mpongwe man told me the story. Though slightly educated

and enlightened, he was not a Christian and believed in fetiches. His

account, therefore, was from the heathen standpoint. I cannot repeat his

own wording, but the outline of the story is exactly his.)

In that village were two slave women, each married to a free husband. Each

was expecting to become a mother,--No. 1 in three months, and No. 2 in six

months. They were friends; and, unknown to their husbands, were members of

the Witchcraft Society, and were accustomed secretly to attend and take

part in the society's midnight meetings and plays. Just what is the nature

of those plays is not quite certain, but it is known that wild orgies of

dancing constitute a part of them.

These two women, that they might be freer for their dancing and other

movements, were accustomed, in going to the meetings, to divest themselves

temporarily of their unborn babes. This they were able to do by witchcraft

power, in virtue of which the possessor can pass, or cause any one else

to pass, uninjured through any material object, as a ray of light passes

through glass.

This they did on their way to the meeting-place on the edge of the forest.

They laid their babes on the grass in a secluded spot, and resumed them on

their return. As they did so, No. 1 observed that hers was a male, and No.

2 that hers was a female. They did this many nights in succession.

Subsequently No. 2 began to be envious of No. 1 in the possession by the

latter of a male child. The husband of No. 2 had been very anxious for a

son. She knew that if she could present him with a son he would be very

proud, and would enlarge her position and privileges in the family. So,

one night, she did not wait for her friend No. 1 to return with her, but,

excusing herself from the play, came back on the path alone. Coming to

where the two babes were lying, she deliberately exchanged her own girl

for the boy of No. 1.

The latter stayed very late at the play,--so late that, as she hasted

home, fearful lest the morning light should find her on the path (a

dangerous thing to a witch-player), on coming to where the babes had been

deposited, she snatched up the remaining one without examining it, and,

supposing it to be hers, resumed the natural possession of it.

Shortly after this, the nine months of No. 1 were fulfilled, and she bore

a child which, to her surprise, she saw was a female. She made no remark,

as she immediately suspected what had been done. She waited three months,

until the days of No. 2 also were fulfilled. At the birth of the child of

No. 2 there was great rejoicing by the husband in the possession of a son.

He made a great feast, and called together a large gathering of people.

Among them was not invited the woman No. 1; for she and No. 2 were no

longer friendly, though neither of them had said anything.

In the midst of the rejoicings No. 1 made her appearance, though

uninvited, and striding among the guests, went silently into the bedroom,

carrying a three-months-old female babe. She went to the side of the bed

of No. 2, laid down the female child, saying, "There's your baby!"

snatched up the male infant, saying, "This is mine!" and strode out of the

room into the street and on the way to her house.

A scream from No. 2 startled the crowd of guests; word was passed that the

boy was being stolen, and No. 1 was pursued and brought back; but she

desperately refused to give up the boy. The whole village was at once

thrown into confusion.

That was the state of affairs on the day that I arrived there. My

informant told me that he and others induced the crowd to quiet, by saying

that the matter could better be settled by a talk than by guns, by sitting

down in council than by standing up in fight.

On being brought before the council or palaver, No. 1 was calm and firm.

She still held to the boy-baby. She said she was willing to be judged, but

demanded that No. 2 should also be made to confront the council. The sense

of guilt of the latter made her weak and unable to face the friend she had

wronged.

Charged with stealing, No. 1 made a bold speech. She said, "Yes; I have

taken my own! If that be stealing, I have stolen!" And then she told the

whole truth of the witchcraft plays of herself and No. 2. The latter,

overcome with shame for her crime, did not deny; she admitted all. And No.

1 closed her defence by saying, "So this other woman has nothing about

which to make complaint. She has her child, and I have mine, and that

settles the matter."

The crowd was amazed, and the husbands were ashamed at finding that their

wives were witches. The husband of No. 2 was no longer disposed to fight

after his wife had admitted that the boy-baby was not her own. The matter

was dropped, as no one was really harmed. Neither husband was disposed to

fine the wife of the other for her witchcraft, as both were guilty.

The guests ate the feast, but the host had no satisfaction in its now

useless expenditure except that it was considered sufficient reparation to

the husband of No. 1 for his own wife's original theft.

IV. THE WIZARD HOUSE-BREAKER.

(The incidents narrated in the following three stories, The Wizard

House-Breaker, The Wizard Murderer, The Wizard and his Invisible Dog, my

informant asserted were actual occurrences; Nos. IV. and VI. occurring in

the Gabun region, and the parties known. The witchcraft part of the

stories consists in the strange light which wizards and witches are said

to possess; it is under their control to display or hide, and it gives

them power to overcome time and space. The scene of No. V. is on the Ogowe

River.)

There were a husband and wife who had been married a number of years. She

had a child, a little boy. The husband had a brother; and this brother had

taken a strong fancy to the woman, and wanted to possess her. Secretly he

was asking her to live with him. But the woman always refused, saying,

"No, I do not want it!" Then this brother's love began to change to anger.

He cherished vexation in his heart toward the woman, and asked her, "Why

do you always refuse me? You are the wife, not of a stranger, but of my

brother. He and I are one, and you ought to accept me." But she persisted,

"No, I don't want it!"

The brother's anger deepened into revenge. He possessed nyemba (witchcraft

power), and determined to use it.

One day this woman had to go to her plantation; and she arranged for the

journey, taking her little boy with her. Before she left the village to go

to the plantation, she told the townspeople, "I will remain at the

plantation for some days, to take care of my gardens; for I am tired of

losses by the wild beasts spoiling my crops." But the other women said,

"Ah! your plantation is too far; it is not safe for you to be by

yourself." But she said, "I cannot help it; I have to go." She was brave,

and persisted in her plan, and made all preparations. On a set day, with

her basket on her back, her child on her left hip, and her machete in her

right hand, she started. She went on, on, steadily; reached the

plantation, and rested there the remainder of that day with her child.

After her evening meal she shut the door of the hut and went to bed. The

door was fastened with strings and a bar, for the plantation hamlets had

no locks.

She awoke suddenly about midnight, and thought she heard a noise outside.

She listened quietly. Then she heard the sound again. Presently she

discovered by the noise that some one was trying to climb upon the top of

the hut, for the roof was low. Soon, then, she observed that this person

was trying to break open the palm-thatch of the low roof. She still lay

quietly. But she remembered a big spear which the husband always kept in

one of the rooms of that hut; so she slowly got out of bed, and very

softly went to the corner of the room where the spear was standing, and

returned to bed with it.

The breaking of the thatch continued. Soon she saw the room filled with a

strange light, and then she saw a man trying to enter the roof head

foremost. She bravely kept still, and watched his head and shoulders

enter. She could not see his face, and did not know who he was. But she

did not wait for certainty; she thrust the spear upward at the man's head.

Immediately the figure disappeared, and she heard a heavy thud as he fell

to the ground into the street outside.

She now began to be frightened; she no longer felt safe, and dreaded what

might happen before morning. So she began to get ready to return to town

that very night. She girded her loin garment, fastened the cloth for

carrying her child, took her machete, hasted out of the hut, and started

for her village. In her fear she ran, and rested by walking. Thus,

alternately running and walking, she reached the village so exhausted and

weak with loss of sleep that when her husband's door was opened she fell

fainting on the floor. He and others were alarmed, and asked, "What?

What's the matter?" As soon as she was able to speak, she told the whole

story. They asked her, "Did you see the person? Do you know him?" She

said, "No; only one thing I know: it was a man, and he fell into the

street."

So, when daylight came, the husband and others went to the plantation to

see whether they could find the man. When they reached the plantation,

they were very much surprised to see that the man was this brother. He was

lying dead, with the spear in his neck.

The husband was not vexed at his wife for the death of his brother; he was

pleased that she had so well defended herself.

V. THE WIZARD MURDERER.

(My informant asserted that this really happened in the Ogowe.)

The parties are a husband and wife, their two little children, and a

younger brother of the husband. One of the children, a boy, was a lad old

enough to understand affairs.

The brother-in-law loved the woman, and secretly tried to draw her

affections to himself; but to all his solicitation she gave only

persistent refusal. Thus matters went on, he asking and she refusing; and

then his love turned to hatred.

It happened one day that the husband and wife had a big quarrel of their

own. The wife was so angry that she said she would leave him, take the

children, and go to her father's house. But that home was far away, and

could not be reached in one day. Other women tried to prevent her going,

as she would have to spend the night in the forest on the way; but she

insisted.

Leaving her clothing and other goods, she started off with the two

children, a little food, and her machete. Trying to make the journey in

one day, she walked very fast. But when the sun had set, and soon darkness

would fall, the lad said, "Mother, as we cannot reach there to-night,

don't you think we'd better stop and arrange a sleeping-place before

dark, and let the spot be a little aside from the public path?" The mother

said, "Yes; that is good!" Then she gave the babe to the lad to hold,

while she with her machete began to cut away bushes and clear the ground

for a convenient sleeping-spot. After she had cut away some bushes, the

lad watching her, saw that she was clearing a space larger than was needed

for herself. He asked her, "Do you intend that we all shall sleep in that

one place,--you and baby and I?" The mother said, "Yes." But he said,

"Why, no! Fix two places,--I by myself, and you and baby in another

place." The mother replied, "No, I cannot let you sleep alone in this

forest; I want you near me." However, the lad insisted: "But if anything

happens to us in the night, then we will be lost all together. I am not

willing that we should be all in the same place."

So the lad began to search for a place for himself, and came to a big tree

which was not very far from his mother's chosen spot. He called her to

him, and said, "I have found a good place. Just you clear for me behind

this big tree, and dig a trench for me to lie in, just below the level of

the ground." The mother did so.

After the two spots were cleared, they ate their little evening meal, and

night came. Then the lad said, "Now I go to lie in the trench, and you

sprinkle leaves over me to hide me, and then you go to your

sleeping-place. And if anything happens to me at night, I promise I will

not cry out; I will remain silent. And you promise that if anything

happens to you, you also will not cry out, nor call to me." The mother

agreed, and both went to sleep.

Not long after this, both were awakened by a strange flashing light, and

the mother saw some one coming to the place where she was lying. Then the

light was suddenly extinguished; and she saw a man near her, and

recognized that he was her brother-in-law. She was exceedingly alarmed,

knowing that he did not come with good intent. In her fright she hoped to

gain time by pretending to be friendly with him. So she exclaimed, "Oh! My

young husband! Now you have come after me, so that your brother's wife

will not have to sleep in the forest alone. Now we will make friendship

and be good friends." But he replied in anger: "Friends, you say? You

shall see what kind of friends I will make with you to-night! You, the

woman who hates me! Where is the lad?" She, determined to shield the

child, said, "The lad did not come with me; he preferred to stay in town

with his father." The man replied, "You are not telling me the truth. Tell

me where the lad is!" But she persisted in her statement, "He is left in

town with his father."

Then the man walked about in search of the lad, going even very near to

where he was lying awake in the trench. But the leaves hid him, and his

uncle did not discern that the ground had been disturbed. Returning to the

woman, he said, "Good! you are telling the truth. I don't see the lad. But

now I am ready to attend to you. You shall see." So he approached the

woman to seize her. She was so paralyzed with fear that she neither

attempted to run away, nor, though her machete was lying near, did she lay

hold of it. Even had she done so, she was too weak with her journey to

defend herself. The man snatched up the babe that still was sleeping, and

looking around for a rough, projecting root, violently flung the babe

against it. It made no cry; and both he and the mother supposed it was

instantly killed. Then he drew his machete, which he had made very sharp,

and began to cut and slash the woman. She pleaded and cried for help; but

there was no help near. She fell, covered with wounds, and died on the

spot. All this the lad saw and heard. After killing the mother, the man

began again to search for the lad, but did not find him; and, as it was

now after midnight, he left the place to go back to town.

Soon after he was gone, the lad, exhausted with terror and fatigue, fell

asleep. But he awoke again in the early daylight. Arising from his trench,

he went with grief and distress to see the two corpses. Looking at his

mother's blood-covered form, he saw that she was dead. Looking at his

baby brother lying on the root, he took up the little form, sobbing, "Only

I am alive. Even this little child was not spared. Am I to go on my

journey all alone?" Examining the limp body still further, it seemed still

to show signs of life; and he said to himself, "I think I will try to save

it. I am strong enough to carry it to my mother's people, to whom I shall

tell this whole story."

So he took up the cloth in which his mother had carried the child,

adjusted it for himself, placed the unconscious form in it, and started on

his journey. A short distance beyond brought him to a brook. Before he

crossed it, he stooped to take a drink of water. Then examining the little

body again, he felt that it was not stiff and was still warm. Said he,

"Ah! perhaps it has a little life! I better give it a drink." So he tried;

and the baby drank. He rejoiced. "So perhaps it will be alive. I better

bathe it." And he did so. Then he crossed the brook, and journeyed on.

Before he reached his grandfather's village, he crossed another brook, and

bathed the babe, and gave it a drink as at the first brook.

On his arrival at the village the people were surprised to see him without

his mother. His grandfather at once wanted to know his story and why he

had come there alone. Said he, "Please, before I tell my story, try to

save this baby."