"Sir," said Baruti, after we had all gathered around the evening fire,
and were waiting expectant for the usual story, "Kassim's tale about the
City of the Elephants and the peace that was entered into between the
elephants and the Bungandu has reminded me of what happened between a
tribe living on the banks of the little Black River above the Basoko,
and a Gorilla."
"Wallahi, but these Basoko boys beat everybody for telling stories,"
exclaimed a Zanzibari. "I wonder, however, whether they invent them, or
they really have heard them from their old folk, as they say they did."
"We heard them, of course," replied Baruti, with an indignant look; "for
how could Kassim or I imagine such things? I heard something each day
almost from the elders, or the old women of the tribe. My mother also
told me some, and my big brother told me others. At our village
talk-house, scarcely a day passed but we heard of some strange thing
which had happened in old times. It is this custom of meeting around
the master's fire, and the legends that we hear, that reminds us of what
we formerly heard, and by thinking and thinking over them the words come
back anew to us."
"But do you think these things of which you talk are true?" the
Zanzibari asked.
"True!" he echoed. "Who am I that I should say, This thing is true, and
that is false! I but repeat what my betters said. I do not speak of
what I saw, but of what I heard, and the master's words to us were: `Try
and remember what was said to you in your villages by the ancients among
your people, and if you will tell it to me properly, I will give you a
nice cloth.' Well, when our old men were in good-humour, and smoked
their long pipes, and the pot of wine was by their side, and we asked
them to tell us somewhat about the days when they were young, they would
say, `Listen to this now,' and they would tell us of what happened long
ago. It is the things of long ago that we remember best, because they
were so strange that they clung on the mind, and would not altogether be
forgotten. If there is aught unpleasing in them, it is not our fault,
for we but repeat the words that entered into our ears."
"That will do, Baruti; go on with your story; and you, Baraka, let your
tongue sleep," cried Zaidi.
"I but asked a question. Ho! how impatient you fellows are!"
"Nay, this is but chatter--we shall never hear the story at this rate.
Hyah! Barikallah! [Hurry on, in God's name!] Baruti."
Well (began Baruti), this tribe dwelt on the banks of the Black River
just above Basoko town, and at that time of the far past the thick
forest round about them was haunted by many monstrous animals; big apes,
chimpanzees, gorillas and such creatures, which are not often seen
nowadays. Not far from the village, in a darksome spot where the
branches met overhead and formed a thick screen, and the lower wood
hedged it closely round about so that a tortoise could scarcely
penetrate it, there lived the Father of the Gorillas. He had housed
himself in the fork of one of the tallest trees, and many men had seen
the nest as they passed by, but none as yet had seen the owner.
But one day a fisherman in search of rattans to make his nets, wandered
far into the woods, and in trying to recover the direction home struck
the Black River high up. As he stood wondering whether this was the
black stream that flowed past his village, he saw, a little to the right
of him, an immense gorilla, who on account of the long dark fur on his
chest appeared to be bigger than he really was. A cold sweat caused by
his great fear began to come out of the man, and his knees trembled so
that he could hardly stand, but when he perceived that the gorilla did
not move, but continued eating his bananas, he became comforted a
little, and his senses came back. He turned his head around, in order
to see the clearest way for a run; but as he was about to start, he saw
that the gorilla's eyes were fixed on him. Then the gorilla broke out
into speech and said:
"Come to me, and let me look at thee."
The fisherman's fear came back to him, but he did as he was told, and
when he thought he was near enough, he stood still.
Then the gorilla said:
"If thou art kin to me, thou art safe from harm; if not, thou canst not
pass. How many fingers hast thou?" he asked.
"Four," the fisherman answered, and he held a hand up with its back
towards the gorilla, and his thumb was folded in on the palm so that it
could not be seen by the beast.
"Ay--true indeed. Why, thou must be a kinsman of ours, though thy fur
is somewhat scanty. Sit down and take thy share of this food, and eat."
The fisherman sat down, and broke off bananas from the stalk and ate
heartily.
"Now mind," said the gorilla, "thou hast eaten food with me. Shouldst
thou ever meet in thy wanderings any of my brothers, thou must be kind
to them in memory of this day. Our tribe has no quarrel with any of
thine, and thy tribe must have none against any of mine. I live alone
far down this river, and thy tribe lives further still. Mind our
password, `_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_.' By that we know who is friendly and
who is against us."
The fisherman departed, and speeding on his way reached his village
safely; but he kept secret what he had seen and met that day.
Some little time after, the tribe resolved to have a grand hunt around
their village, to scare the beasts of the forest away; for in some
things they resemble us. If we leave a district undisturbed for a moon
or so, the animals think that we have either departed the country or are
afraid of them. The apes and the elephants are the worst in that
respect, and always lead the way, pressing on our heels, and often
sending their scouts ahead to report, or as a hint to us that we are
lingering too long.
The people loaded themselves with their great nets, and first chose the
district where the Gorilla Father lived. They set their nets around a
wide space, and then the beaters were directed to make a large sweep and
drive all the game towards the nets, and here and there where the
netting was weak, the hunters stood behind a thick bush, their heavy
spears ready for the fling.
Well, it just happened that at that very time the Father of the Gorillas
was holding forth to his kinsmen, and the first they knew of the hunt,
and that a multitude of men were in the woods, was when they heard the
horrid yells of the beaters, the sound of horns, the jingle of iron, and
the all-round swish of bushes.
The fisherman, like the rest of his friends, was well armed, and he was
as keen as the others for the hunt, but soon after he heard the cries of
the beaters, he saw a large gorilla rushing out of the bushes, and knew
him instantly for his friend, and he cried out "_Tu-wheli! Tu-wheli_!"
At the sound of it the gorilla led his kinsmen towards him, and passed
the word to those behind, saying, "Ah, this is our friend. Do not hurt
him."
The gorillas passed in a long line of mighty fellows, close by the
fisherman, and as they heard the voice of their father, they only
whispered to him, "_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_," but the last of all was a big,
sour-faced gorilla, who, when he saw that the pass was only guarded by
one man, made a rush at him. His roar of rage was heard by the father,
and turning back he knew that his human brother was in danger, and he
cried out to those nearest to part them, "The man is our brother;" but
as the fierce gorilla was deaf to words, the father loped back to them,
and slew him, and then hastened away as the hunters were pressing up.
These, when they came up and observed that the fisherman's spear was
still in his hand, and not painted with blood, were furious, and they
agreed together that he should not have a share of the meat, "For," said
they, "he must have been in a league against us." Neither did he obtain
any share of the spoil.
A few days after this the fisherman was proceeding through a part of the
forest, and a gorilla met him in the path, and said:
"Stay, I seem to know thee. Art thou not our brother?"
"_Tu-wheli, Tu-wheli_!" he cried.
"Ah, it is true, follow me;" and they went together to the gorilla's
nesting-tree, where the fisherman was feasted on ripe bananas, berries,
and nuts, and juicy roots, and he was shown which roots and berries were
sweet, and which were bitter, and so great was the variety of food he
saw, that he came to know that though lost in the forest a wise man need
not starve.
When the fisherman returned to his village he called the elders
together, and he laid the whole story of his adventures before his
people, and when the elders heard that the berries and roots, nuts, and
mushrooms in the forest, of which they had hitherto been afraid, were
sweet and wholesome, they exclaimed with one voice, that the gorillas
had proved themselves true friends, and had given them much useful
knowledge; and it was agreed among them that in future the gorillas
should be reckoned among those, against whom it would not be lawful to
raise their spears.
Ever since the tribes on the Black River avoid harming the gorilla, and
all his kind big and little; neither will any of the gorilla trespass on
their plantations, or molest any of the people.