When the Inkum people first came to the Cross River about one hundred
years ago, Chief Indoma established the five Inkum towns on the right
bank of the river, and Chief Awum took his people over to the other
side, and, having given the Enfitop people presents, asked them to
allow him to build his town there, and also requested them to give him
sufficient bush where he and his people could make their farms.
The Enfitop people eventually agreed to do this, and Chief Awum built
his town, which he called Aliese, and appointed a man called Osode to
be his second chief. Both these chiefs were under Chief Indoma of Inkum.
When the houses were finished and their farms made, Chief Awum called a
society to play, the name of the society being Eberambi.
It was one of the rules of the society that anyone wishing to join
must pay fifty rods, one goat, and five pots of tombo, which would be
divided amongst the members.
Then Chief Osode sent invitations to the young men of Enfitop to come
and join their society, and altogether about fifty of them became
members.
Now, when the young men of Enfitop joined and paid their goats, rods,
and tombo, Chief Osode divided up all the things they brought amongst
the Inkum members, and never gave the Enfitop boys their share.
This caused great dissatisfaction, and at last they became so vexed
that the Chief of Enfitop gave orders that for the future no more of
his boys were to join the Eberambi Society.
When Chief Awum heard this, it made him angry, so he made a scheme or
plan to rid the society of the Enfitop boys, who were no longer of any
use, as they had paid up their presents to the society.
The Chiefs Awum and Osode then went into the bush, and searched about
until they found an open space, which could be cleared without much
trouble. There was a big rock in the middle, and the members all began
working on the ground, and after a few days had it quite clear.
Chief Awum then told his young men to dig a very deep pit on one side
of the rock next to its deepest side, and, when it was finished, he
placed sharp stakes firmly in the ground with the points upwards.
A meeting of the members was called for the next evening, and the chief
told his young men to sit all round the rock.
When the Enfitop boys arrived, they all sat together a little distance
off, and one of their head boys was told to sit on the rock with his
back to the pit, which he could not see, as it was dark.
The singing and dancing then began, and the tombo was passed round,
but when it came to the turn of the man sitting on the rock, just at
the moment when he began to drink, one of the Inkum boys, who had been
instructed by the chief what to do, seized him by the ankles and
pushed him over backwards, so that he fell into the pit on the sharp
stakes and was killed at once. As it was quite dark and such a noise
was going on, no one missed the boy or saw what had happened.
Then, in the early morning, before it was light, the Inkum boys went to
the pit, and having taken out the body, covered the blood stains with
sand and carried the body back to the town. The body was then cut up
into small pieces and divided amongst the members of the society, who
lit fires and cooked and eat their portions.
That night Chief Awum said to Osode:--“Well! that accounts for one of
the members, and I hope soon that we shall have got rid of all of them.”
Chief Osode said that he thought the plan a very good one, particularly
as it brought them in a supply of food which was always welcome.
Then, for four nights running, the same thing was done, and the boy
who had been killed the previous night was divided up and eaten by the
Inkum members of the society on the following day.
On the sixth night, however, the Enfitop boys met together, and counted
their numbers. Finding that there were five of their members missing,
they could not understand what had happened, so they decided not to
attend the play that night.
This enraged the Inkum people, and the next day Chief Osode went to
Enfitop and told them that, as they had refused to attend the play,
they would not be members of the society any longer. So, after that,
the Enfitop boys did not go to the play again, and the Inkum people
lost their chance of getting any more of them for food.
After a short time had elapsed, Chief Awum consulted with Osode as to
how they should get some more Enfitop boys to eat. After thinking some
time, he said he thought the best way was to steal the children from
the town.
So the following morning the Inkum young men surrounded Enfitop, but
hid themselves in the bush, and waited there until all the men and
women had gone to their farms to work, leaving only the old people and
young children in the town.
When they had all gone, the Inkum men went very quietly into the town
from house to house, and stole all the children they could find and
carried them off. They did not take any of the old people as they were
not much good for food.
That night they had a great feast in the town.
When the parents of the children who had been stolen returned from
their farms they missed their little ones, and so they went and
complained to the head chief.
The next day he called all his people together, and they held a big
palaver to settle what should be done. At the meeting, one of the boys
who had been a member of the Eberambi society got up and said that five
of their members were missing, and he believed that it was the Inkum
people who had killed them, and that they had stolen the children as
well.
After a long discussion, it was decided to drive the Inkum people away,
and to send them back across the river again, so a message was sent to
Chief Indoma to tell his people to leave their town at Enfitop and go
over to the Inkum side.
Chief Indoma could not understand the reason of this message being
sent, so he replied that he certainly would not tell his people to
move, and that he would see what they could do.
When the Enfitop people had completed their preparations for war, the
head chief took one of his slaves to his ju-ju as a sacrifice, and the
blood was sprinkled all round the ju-ju, the chiefs dancing in it. The
body was then cut up and divided amongst the fighting men, who eat it.
The chief then addressed the ju-ju as follows:--
“You always help us in the time of trouble. Here are my fighting men.
I want you to make them strong and so that they will not receive any
wounds from their enemies. If you help me, when the war is over, I will
bring all the heads of the men we kill to you as tribute. I will also
bring the prisoners we capture and kill them before you as a sacrifice.”
The chief then put his hand into the ju-ju pot containing water, rotten
eggs, and mashed-up leaves and roots, and having stirred it well up,
the fighting men all came up to him one after another, and he smeared
them with the liquid on the forehead and breast.
After this ceremony was over, all the people went to the chief’s
compound, where he consulted his head ju-ju man as to what the result
of the war with the Inkum people would be. The ju-ju man then cast
lots, and told them that they would drive the Inkum people away,
killing many men and taking many men, women and children prisoners, but
he warned them that they must not commence the fight, as it was the
Inkum people who were in the wrong and had killed the Enfitop people.
They then armed themselves with bows and arrows, stones, and short
heavy throwing sticks sharp at both ends, so that one end or the other
would stick into their enemies. The next morning they surrounded the
town of Aliese, and very soon the Inkum men came out.
The first arrow was fired by an Inkum man named Osim, and at once the
fight became general. They fought for the greater part of the day,
until at last the Inkum men were beaten, many having been killed and
wounded. The survivors, including Chief Indoma, who was present at the
fighting, escaped into the bush, leaving the women and children and old
men at the mercy of the Enfitop people.
Most of the old men were killed, and the women and children were made
prisoners and taken to Enfitop.
That very night they held a big play, and the heads of all the men who
had been killed were placed before the ju-ju. Six of the best of the
prisoners were then killed in front of the ju-ju, and after their blood
had been sprinkled on the ground, the bodies were cut up and given to
the fighting men, who lit fires and boiled the flesh with yams, pepper
and salt.
While the food was cooking, a big dance was being held, and one of the
prisoners was placed on his back upon the ground in front of the ju-ju.
He was then staked securely to the ground, and a heavy wooden drum was
placed upon his stomach and was beaten with sticks while the fighters
were dancing.
When the food was sufficiently cooked the fighting men eat it, and
then, after drinking plenty of tombo, went to bed. The prisoner was
left on the ground all night with the heavy drum on top of him.
The next morning the head fighting man released the prisoner, and
having tied him up to a tree, cut his head off with his matchet. He
then dressed himself up in the long hair (mane) of a ram, wrapped a
leopard skin round his waist, painted his face, breast and right hand
with white chalk, and placed four feathers from the black-and-white
fishing eagle in his hair, one down the centre in front, one behind,
and one on either side. He then took the head of the man he had just
killed in his left hand, and holding his matchet in his right, he
danced all round the town, shouting out that they were great fighters,
and that the ju-ju had made them successful in the battle. When he
had been all round, he went into the open space in the middle of the
compound, and the women came up to him with presents; some would
present him with a fathom of cloth, but the poorer people would offer a
few rods, yams, or some salt. The body of the man was then divided up
amongst the chiefs, the head chief getting the right arm, shoulder and
breast for his share, and the head fighter was given the man’s heart to
eat.
All the heads were then collected and placed over a fire to singe the
hair off. They were then given to the head chief, who boiled and eat
the meat off them with his sons and people. The chief placed the skulls
on the ground of the room where he slept, so that the room was quite
paved with them. This was done so that the chief could put his feet on
them, to show that he had trampled on the enemies whom he had conquered.
The head of the man who was first sacrificed before the war commenced
was not eaten, but was left on the ground in front of the ju-ju as his
share.
To return to the Inkum people, who had escaped into the bush on the
night of the battle, as soon as it was dark, Chief Indoma called them
all together and asked his ju-ju man what he had done to make him so
unfortunate in the battle and to lose so many people. The ju-ju man
told him that Chief Awum and Chief Osode had caused all the trouble by
killing the Enfitop boys and stealing the children for food. He also
said that the Inkum people had gone to fight like women; they had not
consulted him (by which he lost a handsome present) neither had they
killed a slave as a sacrifice to their ju-ju.
Chief Indoma agreed with the ju-ju man, and said he would not forget
again, and that in the future when he went to war he would see that the
proper precautions were taken and the usual sacrifices made as had
always been done in the past.
He then spoke to Awum and Osode, saying “I am very angry with both
of you. Up to the present I have been known to all people as a good
fighter and leader, but I shall always be ashamed to meet the Enfitop
people now. You have done wrong. You have killed and eaten many of the
Enfitop people and told me nothing about it. When they sent a message
to me, I told them that I would not move my people across the river, as
I never thought they would fight against me, but now I am compelled to
do so, as they have either killed or taken as prisoners nearly all the
men, women and children of the town. I look to you to arrange how to
get me and the remaining people over the river in safety.”
Then Chief Osode stood up, and said that he could manage that quite
easily, as he was a ju-ju man, and would make a bridge for them out of
his body.
Now, in those days there was a big snake who used to live on the land,
and when he grew to be as long as a palm oil tree is high, he forsook
the land and lived in the small creeks and rivers, where he grew to a
tremendous size. The name of the snake was Ku Ku Barakpa.
In the early morning, Osode turned himself into the snake, and placed
himself across the river with his tail on the Enfitop side and his head
on the Inkum side, his back being out of water, so that the people
could cross over in safety. As soon as he had done this the survivors
of the Inkums, headed by Chief Indoma, walked over the snake’s body,
but, when the Enfitop people tried to follow them, the snake waited
until they were in the middle and then sank, leaving the Enfitop men to
drown. After two days their bodies floated and were picked up by the
Inkum people who carried them back to their town and eat them.
Chief Indoma blamed Chief Awum very much for what had happened, but he
praised Chief Osode for getting them back in safety across the river,
and also for his ingenious device in getting them some more human food
without any risk or fighting.
Told by Abassi of Inkum, 7th June, 1910.
X.--HOW AN INKUM BOY WAS DROWNED BY HIS COMPANIONS AND HOW THEY WERE
PUNISHED.
There was once an Inkum woman named Omegha, who was considered very
good-looking, but, curiously enough, no man had ever wanted to marry
her, although she was very popular and went about from one man to
another. She also went from town to town, showing off her beauty, in
the hopes that some man might fancy her and ask her to marry him.
At last she got tired of walking about, and returned home to live with
her parents. Her father was very fond of her, but often said that he
wished she had been a boy as she would then have been able to help him
with his work on the farm.
After Omegha had been living at home for a little time, her father said
to her, “I wish you would get a son who would help me on the farm when
he grew up.” Omegha replied that, although she slept with plenty of
men, she had never conceived. Her father then warned her that she would
never bear a child if she went on as she was doing, always changing and
sleeping with so many different men.
He then advised her to live with the same man for a whole month, and
then see what would happen. Omegha waited for a week, and then did
as she had been advised to do by her father, and, after a month had
elapsed, she found that she had conceived.
A few months after this, Omegha’s father died, leaving her mother and
herself in the house. Then her mother said to her “Now that your father
is dead, you must not go about as you did before, as there are only two
of us. You shall stay at home and I will look after you and the child
who is soon to be born.” They then wrapped the dead body up in mats,
and made a hole in a room at the back of the house, where they buried
the corpse.
Some time afterwards, Omegha gave birth to a son, whom she called Ogor.
The boy grew very fast, and after a time he was able to walk.
As Omegha was a poor woman, she used to take her little son with her to
the farm every day. But when Ogor was six years old, she got tired of
doing this, and used to leave him in the house with his grandmother,
who was very fond of him. Then Omegha used to go off alone, and visit
her numerous men friends.
Ogor had often been told by his mother not to go near the river, and he
was frequently warned not to play about with the other boys of his age
in the town, as they would surely lead him into mischief.
One day, while his grandmother was cooking, he heard the company of
small boys to which he belonged playing outside, so he stole out of the
house and joined them. When the boys saw who it was had come to play
with them, they asked him why he did not always come out and join them,
so he told them that his grandmother would not allow him to go out of
the house.
The boys then said they were hot from playing and were going down to
the river to bathe. They invited Ogor to go with them, but he refused
and ran home.
Before he reached the house, his mother, who was returning from
visiting one of her lovers, met him and gave him a sound flogging for
being so disobedient.
That night, the boys belonging to Ogor’s company, of whom there were
eight, met together and decided that Ogor had been very rude to them.
They therefore determined to punish him the next time they caught him.
A few days afterwards, Ogor again stole out of the house when his
grandmother was busy, and joined his companions who were playing in the
town not far from the beach.
When the play was finished, they all went down to the river to bathe,
and swam out to a sand bank in the middle of the river, it being the
dry season.
One of the boys had brought some strong tie-tie with him, and two
others went off and soon came back again with a heavy stone. Ogor
was then put on his back and securely fastened to the stone with the
tie-tie. He did not struggle or cry out, as he thought it was all done
in play.
When the boys had finished tying up their companion, they looked round
very carefully to see whether anyone was watching them, but, finding
there was no one about, they carried Ogor out into the river, and threw
him into the water where it was deep, and he sank at once. The boys
then swam back to the beach, and went off to their various homes.
Just about this time, Omegha returned home, and, missing Ogor, asked
her mother what had become of the boy. The old woman told her daughter
that Ogor had stolen out of the house as he had done on the previous
day, and she thought he had most likely gone to join the small boys’
company as she had heard them playing in the town.
Both the women then went out to look for the boy, but could not find
him or any of his companions, as they had all returned to their
parents’ houses. They searched everywhere for Ogor, but could not
find him, so at last Omegha thought of the porcupine, and made up her
mind to ask his advice as to what had happened to Ogor, and what was
the best thing to do to get him back again. She then walked to the
porcupine’s house and told him that she was in great grief as she had
lost her only son Ogor, and could not find out what had become of him.
Omegha then asked the porcupine to help her, which he promised to do.
He then went into his back room to consult his ju-ju, and, being very
clever, it did not take him long to find out what had happened to the
boy, so he soon returned to Omegha, and told her that her son had been
thrown into the river by his companions, and that the water ju-ju had
taken him to his house at the bottom of the deep pool in the river.
Omegha then went down to the beach with the porcupine, and, when
they arrived at the water’s edge, the porcupine, who was a very good
swimmer, at once dived into the river and swam to the water ju-ju’s
house. The porcupine then told the water ju-ju that he had promised to
help Omegha, and asked if the boy was there. The water ju-ju replied
that he had saved Ogor’s life as he was sorry for Omegha and her
mother, who were poor people, and only had this one boy.
He then said that he had no objection to returning Ogor to his mother,
and that the porcupine might take him away when he departed, but he
insisted that the boys who had thrown Ogor into the river should be
punished, and told the porcupine to tell the chiefs of the town that,
if they did not punish the boys very severely, he would seize everyone
who came into the river and keep them in his house for all time.
The water ju-ju also told the porcupine that he must take Ogor to his
mother when it was dark, and hide him in the house until the palaver
was heard, so that no one should know that Ogor was alive.
The porcupine waited until the evening came, and then, having thanked
the water ju-ju for his kindness, swam off with Ogor, and took him
to his mother’s house, taking care to go by the back way so that no
one should see them. Omegha was delighted to get her son back again,
and hid him away. She then thanked the porcupine, who went off to the
chiefs of the town and delivered to them the message from the water
ju-ju.
The chiefs at once sent the drummer round the town to tell all the
people to attend at the palaver house the next day, that no one was
to go to their farms, and that all the small boys of the town were to
attend.
In the morning, the chiefs took their seats, and the people sat down
all round them. The porcupine was then called upon to tell all the
people what had happened. So he stood up and said that Ogor, the son
of Omegha, had been thrown into the river by his companions, they
having first tied him up and fastened a heavy stone to him to make
him sink. They had then left him to drown, but the water ju-ju, being
kind-hearted, had saved him.
Ogor was next called, to the great astonishment of the eight boys who
thought he was dead. He pointed them all out, and told the chiefs which
of the boys had tied him up and those who had carried him and thrown
him into the river.
The head chief then said that all the eight boys were guilty of trying
to drown their companion, and that they should all be taken to the
beach and killed as a warning to other boys not to kill one another. He
also pointed out that the water ju-ju had threatened to seize all the
people who went into the river if the boys were not properly punished.
All the people agreed that it was a just sentence, but one chief,
called Eka, refused to allow his son, who was one of the eight boys, to
be killed, and said he would see what the water ju-ju could do.
All that night, the mothers of the seven boys cried bitterly; and
begged the chief not to kill their sons, but he told them that the
sentence must be carried out, as otherwise the water ju-ju would be
angry and kill many people.
The next day, the seven boys were taken down to the beach and killed,
and their fathers took their bodies home and buried them. The town then
mourned for three days.
The head chief then called the porcupine to him, and told him to go
to the water ju-ju and tell him that the seven boys had been killed,
but that Chief Eka had refused to allow his son to be killed, and had
defied the water ju-ju to do his worst.
So the porcupine set off and dived into the river and reported to the
water ju-ju all that had happened. The water ju-ju said the head chief
had done quite right to kill the seven boys, as, had he not done so, he
would have made the people suffer very much. He also said that he would
deal with Chief Eka’s son later on. Then the porcupine returned to the
land and reported to the head chief all that the water ju-ju had said.
When Chief Eka heard the threat of the water ju-ju he at once gave
orders to all his people that none of them were to go into the river,
but, that, if they wanted to wash, they must carry the water to their
houses for the purpose.
This was done for two years and nothing happened, but, in the
commencement of the third year, Chief Eka’s son, thinking he was quite
safe, thought he would like to bathe, so he went down to the river and
went into the water as far as his knees; he then washed himself and
returned home. As nothing had happened to him the first day, he went
down again in the afternoon when the sun was not quite so hot, and
jumped into the deep water, but the water ju-ju, who was waiting for
him, at once seized him and dragged him out of sight under the water.
The people who were bathing at the time, when they saw the boy
disappear at once, guessed that it must be the water ju-ju who had
taken him, so they went and told Chief Eka what they had seen. When he
heard what had happened, he went to the porcupine and asked him to go
to the water ju-ju, and offer him two slaves if he would return his
son. The porcupine agreed to go, providing Chief Eka gave him one slave
and 500 rods for his trouble. The chief willingly agreed to this, and
the slave and rods were brought to the porcupine’s house that very
night.
In the morning the porcupine went down to the river, and dived in as
he had done before, and swam to the water ju-ju’s house and told him
that Chief Eka offered to give him two slaves if he would release his
son. But the water ju-ju refused them, and said, “Tell Chief Eka, if he
wants to see his son, let him look in the river in two days’ time.” So
the porcupine went back and delivered the message to Chief Eka, who was
very sorry as he was so fond of his son.
Two days afterwards, Chief Eka went down to the beach, where he saw the
dead body of his son floating down the river, so he sent some men out
in a canoe and they brought back the dead body and it was buried.
Ever since that time, the people of Inkum believe, when anyone is
drowned and his body floats after three days without being eaten by
the fish or crocodiles, that the water ju-ju has killed the dead man
because he had done some evil thing.