In a country where pottery is scarce and dear, the buyu or Cucurbita

lagenaria supplies every utensil except those used for cooking; its many

and various adaptations render it a valuable production. The people

train it to grow in the most fantastic shapes, and ornament it by

tatooing with dark paint, and by patterns worked in brass tacks and

wires; where it splits, it is artistically sewn together. The larger

kinds serve as well-buckets, water-pots, travelling-canteens, churns,

and the sounding-boards of musical instruments: a hookah, or water-pipe,

is made by distorting the neck, and the smaller varieties are converted

into snuff-boxes, medicine-cases, and unguent-pots. The fruit of the

calabash-tree is also called buyu: split and dried it is used as ladles,

but it is too small to answer all the purposes of the gourd.

The East Africans excel in the manufacture of mtemba or

bori--pipe-heads. These are of two kinds. One is made from a soft stone,

probably steatite, found in Usonga, near Utumbara, and on the road to

Karagwah: it is, however, rare, and about ten times the price of the

clay bowls, because less liable to break. The other is made of a plastic

or pipe-clay, too brittle to serve for pots, and it invariably cracks at

the shank, unless bound with wire. Both are hand-made, and are burned in

the same rough way as the pottery. At Msene, where the clay pipe is

cheapest, the price of the bowl is a khete, or double string of white or

blue beads. The pipe of Unyamwezi is of graceful shape, a cone with the

apex downwards; this leaves but little of the hot, oily, and

high-smelling tobacco at the bottom, whereas in Europe the contrary

seems to be the rule. In Ujiji the bowl is small, rounded, and shallow;

it is, moreover, very brittle. The most artful “mtemba” is made by the

people of Uvira: black inside, like other pottery, its exterior is

coloured a greyish-white, and is adorned with red by means of the Indian

geru (Colcothar or Crocus Martis). Bhang is always, and tobacco is

sometimes, smoked in a water-pipe: the bowl is of huge size, capable of

containing at least half a pound, and its upper half is made to incline

towards the smoker’s face. The Lakist tribes have a graceful variety,

like the Indian “chillam,” very different from the awkward, unwieldy,

and distorted article now fashionable in Unyamwezi and the Eastern

countries. The usual pipe-stem is a tube of about 1·5 feet long,

generally a hollow twig of the dwarf melewele-tree. As it is rudely

bored with hot wire, it must be made air-tight by wax and a coating of

brass or copper wire; a strap of hairy skin prevents the pipe-shank

parting from the stick. Iron and brass tubes are rare and highly prized;

the fortunate possessor will sometimes ask for a single specimen two

shukkahs.

Basket-making and mat-weaving are favourite occupations in East Africa

for both sexes and all ages; even the Arabs may frequently be seen

absorbed in an employment which in Oman would be considered derogatory

to manliness. The sengo, or common basket, from the coast to the Lake,

is an open, shallow, and pan-shaped article, generally made of mwanzi,

or bamboo-bark, reddened in parts and stained black in others by the

root of the Mkuruti and other trees, and white where the outer coat has

been removed from the bamboo. The body, which resembles a popular

article in ancient Egypt, is neatly plaited, and the upper ends are

secured to a stout hoop of the same material. The kanda (in the plural

makanda) acts in the interior as matting for rooms, and is converted

into bags for covering bales of cloth, beads, and similar articles. It

is made from the myara (myala) or Chamærops humilis; the leaf is peeled,

sun-dried, and split with a bit of iron into five or six lengths, joined

at the base, which is trimmed for plaiting. The Karagwah, the only mat

made in the interior of Africa, is used as bedding and carpeting; on

journeys the porters bivouac under it; it swells with the wet, and soon

becomes impervious to rain or heavy dew. It is of two kinds: one of

rushes growing in the vicinity of water, the other of grass rolled up

into little bundles. A complicated stitch runs along the whole length in

double lines. The best description of mat is called mkeke. It is made

at Zanzibar and the coast, from the young fronds of the ukhindu or brab,

neatly stained with various dyes. Women of family pride themselves upon

their skill in making the mkeke, which still attains a price of four

dollars. Amongst the maritime races none but the chiefs have a right to

sit upon it; there are no such distinctions in the interior, where these

mats are carried for sale by the slaves. From the brab also are made

neat strainers to purify honey, pombe, and similar articles. They are

open-mouthed cylinders, from one to two feet long, and varying in

diameter from three to six inches. The bottom is narrowed by whipping

fibre round the loose ends of the leaves. The fishing-nets have been

described when treating of the Tanganyika. The luávo, or hand-net, is

made of calabash or other fibre, with coarse wide meshes; it is affixed

to two sticks firmly planted in the ground, and small animals are driven

into it by beaters.

The basts or barks and fibrous substances in East Africa are cheap and

abundant, but labour and conveyance being difficult and expensive, they

would require to be shipped from Zanzibar in the condition of

half-stuff. The best and most easily divisible into pliant and

knot-tying fibres are, upon the coast the pineapple, and in the interior

the plantain. The next in value are the integuments of the calabash and

the myombo tree. These fibres would produce a good article were it not

for the artlessness of African manipulation. The bark is pounded or

chewed, and, in lieu of spinning, is twisted between the hands; the

largest ropes are made in half an hour, and break after a few minutes of

hard work. A fine silky twine, used for fishing, is made from the

aloetic plants called by the Wasawahili mkonge, and by the Arabs bag,

masad and kideh: it is the hig or haskul of Somaliland, where it affects

the poorest ground, cannot be burnt down, and is impassable to naked

legs and cattle. The leaves are stripped of their coats, and the ends

being tightly bound between two pieces of wood, the mass of fibre is

drawn out like a sword from its sheath. Fatilah, or matchlock matches,

are made in Zanzibar of cotton, and in the interior of calabash fibre.

As might be expected among a sparse population leading a comparatively

simple life, the vast variety of diseases which afflict more civilised

races, who are collected in narrow spaces, are unknown in East Africa

even by name. Its principal sporadic is fever, remittent and

intermittent, with its multitudinous secondaries, concerning which

notices have been scattered through the preceding pages. The most

dangerous epidemic is its aborigen, the small-pox, which, propagated

without contact or fomites, sweeps at times like a storm of death over

the land. For years it has not left the Arab colony at Kazeh, and,

shortly before the arrival of the Expedition, in a single month 52

slaves died out of a total of 800. The ravages of this disease amongst

the half-starved and over-worked gangs of caravan porters have already

been described; as many as a score of these wretches have been seen at a

time in a single caravan; men staggering along blinded and almost

insensible, jostling and stumbling against every one in their way; and

mothers carrying babes, both parent and progeny in the virulent stage of

the fell disease. The Arabs have partially introduced the practice of

inoculating, anciently known in South Africa; the pus is introduced into

an incision in the forehead between the eyebrows. The people have no

remedy for small-pox: they trust entirely to the vis medicatrix. There

is a milder form of the malady, called shúrúá, resembling the

chicken-pox of Europe; it is cured by bathing in cold water and smearing

the body with ochreish earth. The Arab merchants of Unyanyembe declare

that, when they first visited Karagwah, the people were decimated by the

táún, or plague. They describe correctly the bubo under the axillæ, the

torturing thirst, and the rapid fatality of the disease. In the early

part of 1859 a violent attack of cholera, which extended from Maskat

along the eastern coast of Arabia and Africa, committed terrible ravages

in the island of Zanzibar and throughout the maritime regions. Of

course, no precautions of quarantine or cordon militaire were taken, yet

the contagion did not extend into the interior.

Strangers in East Africa suffer from dysenteries and similar disorders

consequent upon fever; and, as in Egypt, few are free from hæmorrhoids,

which in Unyamwezi are accompanied by severe colics and umbilical pains.

Rheumatism and rheumatic fever, severe catarrhs and influenzas, are

caused by the cold winds, and, when crossing the higher altitudes,

pneumonia and pleurisis abound in the caravan. On the coast many

settlers, Indian and Arab, show upon the skin whitish leprous spots,

which are treated with various unguents. In the interior, though well

provided with fresh meat and vegetables, travellers are attacked by

scurvy, even in the absence of its normal exciting causes, damp, cold,

and poor diet. This phenomenon has often been observed upon the upper

course of the Nile; Europeans have been prostrated by it even in the dry

regions westward of the Red Sea, and the Portuguese officers who

explored Usenda of the Kazembe suffered tortures from the complaint.

Common diseases among the natives are umbilical hernia and prolapsus:

the latter is treated by the application of powdered bhang, dry or mixed

with ghee. They are subject to kihindu-hindu--in Arabic, sara--the

epilepsy, which they pretend to cure by the marrow of rhinoceros’ shank.

Of the many fits and convulsions which affect them, the kichyoma-chyoma

is the most dreaded. The word, which means the “little irons,” describes

the painful sensations, the cramps and stitches, the spasms and

lancinations, which torment the sufferer. Many die of this disease. It

is not extraordinary that the fits, convulsions, and contortions which

it suddenly induces should lead the people to consider it in the light

of possession, and the magician to treat it with charms. Madness and

idiocy are not uncommon: of the patient it is said, “Ana wazimo”--“he

has fiends.” In most parts the people, after middle age, are tender-eyed

from the effects of smoke within, glare without, exposure and

debauchery. Not a few samples of acute ophthalmic disease were seen.

In the lower and more malarious spots, desquamations, tumours, and skin

diseases are caused by suddenly suppressed perspiration. The terrible

kidonda or helcoma of the maritime regions and the prurigo of Ujiji have

already been alluded to. The “chokea” is a hordeolum or large boil,

generally upon the upper eyelid. The “funza” is supposed to result from

the bite of a large variety of fly. It begins with a small red and fiery

swelling, which bursts after a time and produces a white entozoon about

half an inch in length. “Kumri” are common blains, and “p’hambazi”

malignant blind-boils, which leave a deep discoloured scar; when the

parts affected are distant from the seat of circulation, the use of the

limb is sometimes lost. For most of these sores tutiya or murtutu,

blue-stone, is considered a specific.

As might be expected amongst an ignorant and debauched race coming in

direct contact with semi-civilisation, the lues has found its way from

the island of Zanzibar to Ujiji and into the heart of Africa. It is

universally believed both by the natives and by the Arabs, who support

the assertion with a host of proofs, to be propagated without contact.

Such, indeed, is the general opinion of the Eastern world, where perhaps

its greater virulence may assimilate it to the type of the earlier

attacks in Europe. The disease, however, dies out, and has not taken

root in the people as amongst the devoted races of North America and the

South Sea islands. Although a malignant form was found extending

throughout the country, mutilation of the features and similar

secondaries were not observed beyond the maritime region. Except

blue-stone, mineral drugs are unknown, and the use of mercury and

ptyalism have not yet exasperated the evil. The minor form of lues is

little feared and yields readily to simples; the consequences, however,

are strangury, cystitis, chronic nephritic disease, and rheumatism.

“Polypharmacy” is not the fault of the profession in East Africa, and

the universal belief in possession tends greatly to simplify the

methodus modendi. The usual cathartic is the bark of a tree called

kalákalá, which is boiled in porridge. There is a great variety of

emetics, some so violent that several Arabs who have been bold enough to

swallow them, barely escaped with life. The actual cautery--usually a

favourite counter-irritant amongst barbarous people--is rarely practised

in East Africa; in its stead powder of blue-stone is applied to the sore

or wound, which has been carefully scraped, and the patient howls with

pain for twenty-four hours. They bleed frequently as Italians, who even

after being startled resort to a mild phlebotomy, and they cut down

straight upon the vein with a sharp knife. They prefer the cucurbitula

cruenta, like the Arabs, who say,--

“Few that cup repent;

Few that bleed, rejoice.”

A favourite place is the crown of the head. The practitioner, after

scarifying the skin with a razor or a dagger, produces a vacuum by

exhausting the air through a horn applied with wetted edges; at the

point is a bit of wax, which he closes over the aperture with his tongue

or teeth, as the hospital “singhi” in India uses a bit of leather.

Cupping--called ku hu míká or kumíká--is made highly profitable by

showing strange appearances in the blood. They cure by excision the bite

of snakes, which, however, are not feared nor often fatal in these

lands. They cannot reduce dislocations, and they never attempt to set or

splint a broken bone.

The mganga or medicine-man, in his character of “doctor,” is a personage

of importance. He enters the sick-room in the dignity of antelope-horn,

grease, and shell-necklace, and he sits with importance upon his

three-legged stool. As the devil saves him the trouble of diagnosis, he

begins by a prescription, invariably ordering something edible for the

purpose, and varying it, according to the patient’s means, from a

measure of grain to a bullock. He asserts, for instance, that a pound of

fat is required for medicine; a goat must be killed, and his perquisite

is the head or breast--a preliminary to a more important fee. Then the

price of prescription--a _sine quâ non_ to prescribing--is settled upon

and paid in advance. After certain questions, invariably suggesting the

presence of poison, the medical practitioner proceeds to the cure; this

is generally a charm or periapt bound round the part affected. In common

diseases, however, like fever, the mganga will condescend to such

profane processes as adhibiting sternutatories and rubbing the head with

vegetable powders. If the remedies prove too powerful or powerless, he

at once decamps; under normal circumstances he incapacitates himself for

performing his promise of calling the next day by expending his fee in

liquor. The Africans have in one point progressed beyond Europeans:

there are as many women physicians as men.

[Illustration: A Mnyamwezi.

A Mheha.]

CHAP. XIX.

THE CHARACTER AND RELIGION OF THE EAST AFRICANS; THEIR GOVERNMENT, AND

SLAVERY.

The study of psychology in Eastern Africa is the study of man’s

rudimental mind, when, subject to the agency of material nature, he

neither progresses nor retrogrades. He would appear rather a degeneracy

from the civilised man than a savage rising to the first step, were it

not for his apparent incapacity for improvement. He has not the ring of

the true metal; there is no rich nature, as in the New Zealander, for

education to cultivate. He seems to belong to one of those childish

races which, never rising to man’s estate, fall like worn-out links from

the great chain of animated nature. He unites the incapacity of infancy

with the unpliancy of age; the futility of childhood, and the credulity

of youth, with the scepticism of the adult and the stubbornness and

bigotry of the old. He has “beaten lands” and seas. For centuries he has

been in direct intercourse with the more advanced people of the eastern

coast, and though few have seen an European, there are not many who have

not cast eyes upon an Arab. Still he has stopped short at the threshold

of progress; he shows no signs of development; no higher and more varied

orders of intellect are called into being. Even the simple truths of El

Islam have failed to fix the thoughts of men who can think, but who,

absorbed in providing for their bodily wants, hate the trouble of

thinking. His mind, limited to the objects seen, heard, and felt, will

not, and apparently cannot, escape from the circle of sense, nor will it

occupy itself with aught but the present. Thus he is cut off from the

pleasures of memory, and the world of fancy is altogether unknown to

him. Perhaps the automaton which we call spiritual suffers from the

inferiority of the mechanism by which it acts.

The East African is, like other barbarians, a strange mixture of good

and evil: by the nature of barbarous society, however, the good element

has not, whilst the evil has, been carefully cultured.

As a rule, the civilised or highest type of man owns the sway of

intellect, of reason; the semi-civilised--as are still the great nations

of the East--are guided by sentiment and propensity in a degree

incomprehensible to more advanced races; and the barbarian is the slave

of impulse, passion, and instinct, faintly modified by sentiment, but

ignorant of intellectual discipline. He appears, therefore, to the

civilised man a paralogic being,--a mere mass of contradictions; his

ways are not our ways, his reason is not our reason. He deduces effects

from causes which we ignore; he compasses his ends by contrivances

which we cannot comprehend; and his artifices and polity excite, by

their shallowness and “inconsequence,” our surprise and contempt. Like

that Hindu race that has puzzled the plain-witted Englishman for the

century closing with the massacres of Delhi and Cawnpore, he is

calculated to perplex those who make conscience an instinct which

elevates man to the highest ground of human intelligence. He is at once

very good-tempered and hard-hearted, combative and cautious; kind at one

moment, cruel, pitiless, and violent at another; sociable and

unaffectionate; superstitious and grossly irreverent; brave and

cowardly, servile and oppressive; obstinate, yet fickle and fond of

changes; with points of honour, but without a trace of honesty in word

or deed; a lover of life, though addicted to suicide; covetous and

parsimonious, yet thoughtless and improvident; somewhat conscious of

inferiority, withal unimprovable. In fact, he appears an embryo of the

two superior races. He is inferior to the active-minded and objective,

the analytic and perceptive European, and to the ideal and subjective,

the synthetic and reflective Asiatic. He partakes largely of the worst

characteristics of the lower Oriental types--stagnation of mind,

indolence of body, moral deficiency, superstition, and childish passion;

hence the Egyptians aptly termed the Berbers and negroes the “perverse

race of Kush.”

The main characteristic of this people is the selfishness which the

civilised man strives to conceal, because publishing it would obstruct

its gratification. The barbarian, on the other hand, displays his

inordinate egotism openly and recklessly; his every action discloses

those unworthy traits which in more polished races chiefly appear on

public occasions, when each man thinks solely of self-gratification.

Gratitude with him is not even a sense of prospective favours; he looks

upon a benefit as the weakness of his benefactor and his own strength;

consequently, he will not recognise even the hand that feeds him. He

will, perhaps, lament for a night the death of a parent or a child, but

the morrow will find him thoroughly comforted. The name of hospitality,

except for interested motives, is unknown to him: “What will you give

me?” is his first question. To a stranger entering a village the worst

hut is assigned, and, if he complain, the answer is that he can find

encamping ground outside. Instead of treating him like a guest, which

the Arab Bedouin would hold to be a point of pride, of honour, his host

compels him to pay and prepay every article, otherwise he might starve

in the midst of plenty. Nothing, in fact, renders the stranger’s life

safe in this land, except the timid shrinking of the natives from the

“hot-mouthed weapon” and the necessity of trade, which induces the

chiefs to restrain the atrocities of their subjects. To travellers the

African is, of course, less civil than to merchants, from whom he

expects to gain something. He will refuse a mouthful of water out of his

abundance to a man dying of thirst; utterly unsympathising, he will not

stretch out a hand to save another’s goods, though worth thousands of

dollars. Of his own property, if a ragged cloth or a lame slave be lost,

his violent excitement is ridiculous to behold. His egotism renders him

parsimonious even in self-gratification; the wretched curs, which he

loves as much as his children, seldom receive a mouthful of food, and

the sight of an Arab’s ass feeding on grain elicits a prolonged “Hi!

hi!” of extreme surprise. He is exceedingly improvident, taking no

thought for the morrow--not from faith, but rather from carelessness as

to what may betide him; yet so greedy of gain is he that he will refuse

information about a country or the direction of a path without a present

of beads. He also invariably demands prepayment: no one keeps a promise

or adheres to an agreement, and, if credit be demanded for an hour, his

answer would be, “There is nothing in my hand.” Yet even greed of gain

cannot overcome the levity and laxity of his mind. Despite his best

interests, he will indulge the mania for desertion caused by that

mischievous love of change and whimsical desire for novelty that

characterise the European sailor. Nor can even lucre prevail against the

ingrained indolence of the race--an indolence the more hopeless as it is

the growth of the climate. In these temperate and abundant lands Nature

has cursed mankind with the abundance of her gifts; his wants still

await creation, and he is contented with such necessaries as roots and

herbs, game, and a few handfuls of grain--consequently improvement has

no hold upon him.

In this stage of society truth is no virtue. The “mixture of a lie” may

“add to pleasure” amongst Europeans; in Africa it enters where neither

pleasure nor profit can arise from the deception. If a Mnyamwezi guide

informs the traveller that the stage is short, he may make up his mind

for a long and weary march, and _vice versâ_. Of course, falsehood is

used as a defence by the weak and oppressed; but beyond that, the

African desires to be lied to, and one of his proverbs is, “’Tis better

to be deceived than to be undeceived.” The European thus qualifies the

assertion,

“For sure the pleasure is as great

In being cheated as to cheat.”

The Lake Regions of Central Africa: A Picture of Exploration, Vol. 2 · 第 23 / 37 段