THE NGINAS, OR GORILLAS, AND NJOKOOS, OR ELEPHANTS
Huge male ngina, or gorilla, was standing perfectly still one day in a
very dense part of the forest. He was thinking. He looked fierce and
ugly. His intensely black face was furrowed with deep wrinkles. Under
his overhanging brows, his gray, vindictive eyes seemed to flash hate
and ferocity. His neck was so short that his head appeared set on his
huge broad shoulders,—a sign of his herculean strength. His chest was so
broad that two human beings side by side standing behind him could not
have been seen. His belly protruded, his arms were of immense strength,
and his body was supported by short, flexible muscular legs without
calves.
Looking down finally at his feet, he exclaimed, “With these I can
clutch.” What a big foot he had! Then he stretched his long muscular
arms and looked at the palms of his hands, which were as hard as horn,
then at his callous fingers and at his black nails, and muttered, “When
I strike with these, I kill. I break the ribs of creatures, or I kill
them outright, and when my hands hold something, nothing is powerful
enough to take it away from my clutches;” and he grinned and looked more
horrid and repulsive than before.
[Illustration: [Gorilla]]
Then he beat his chest with his great fist. The sound was like that of a
huge partly muffled drum, for his chest was as hard as wood. To try his
immense strength, he went to a tree several inches in diameter near him,
and seizing it with both hands and feet broke it in two as if it had
been a young sapling. He was delighted when he saw how strong he was,
and gave a chuckle of satisfaction, a horrid one peculiar to the nginas.
Looking round, he saw a big thigh-bone of a very large antelope, which
had been devoured by a njego. He picked it up and crushed it into
splinters between his jaws, which have more power than those of a lion.
Then he gave another chuckle of satisfaction, for he saw how hard he
could bite an enemy.
Then he yelled. These yells sounded somewhat like the barking of angry
dogs, only a hundred times louder. They were followed by roar after
roar, which filled the great forest with their din and were re-echoed
from hill to hill until they sounded like distant thunder.
All the animals and birds of the forest were filled with fear and said,
“The huge ngina speaks. No one among us has such a powerful voice.”
These roars were roars of defiance with which he challenged the
creatures of the forest to come and fight him. In his pride he thought
himself the ruler of the great forest. After he stopped roaring there
was a great silence. All the animals were filled with fright.
Suddenly the shrill trumpeting of a njokoo was heard. It was indeed a
fearful trumpeting, a trumpeting of defiance. It meant: “I am not afraid
of you, ngina, neither of your yells and roars. If you should ever dare
to attack me and seize my trunk, I could crush you against a tree. And
if you climbed on my back, I would run, and the branches of the trees
under which I would pass would make short work of you.” After the
challenge of the njokoo to the ngina came another silence. It was soon
broken, however. Once more the ngina gave terrific yells and roars. The
njokoo at the same time repeated his ugly trumpeting. Both continued for
some time, but they did not come together, nor even in sight of each
other.
The ngina was thinking: “No creature of this forest can fight the
njokoo. Not even I with my great strength would dare to attack him, for
though I can kill a leopard, I cannot kill a njokoo. If he comes to
attack me, I can climb a tree which he cannot uproot, and from there I
can dare him and yell and roar at him.”
After a while the njokoo and the ngina went each his own way. No wonder
that the human beings of the forest, who possess only spears and arrows,
are afraid of the ngina and never dare to attack him. Woe to those who
come unexpectedly upon one, for a single blow from the hand of the
monster would suffice to slay a man!
The ngina wandered through the forest in the direction of his mate and
baby, who were far away. They held a conversation, though they were
several miles apart, and when they met they greeted each other with
great affection.
The big ugly creatures looked at each other and at their baby ngina, and
once in a while gave chuckles which in the ngina language meant, “How
happy I am! How I love you both!” The baby ngina was about two years old
and was trying to break with its teeth some of the nuts which had fallen
on the ground, but his jaws were not yet strong enough to do so. His
mouth was yet too small for nuts of such a size. Mamma Ngina came to his
help, crushed them with her powerful jaws, and handed the pits to her
little one, uttering a peculiar sound at the same time, which meant,
“Here, dear, are the cracked nuts. Take them.” He, in return, made some
kind of noise expressing his feelings, which might be translated, “I
thank you, Mamma Ngina.”
The baby ngina was just beginning to learn the language of the nginas
from his father and mother, who taught him to speak, and he was making
good progress.
As the nginas were enjoying their nuts, they were suddenly disturbed by
the sharp whistling buzz of an ibolai fly, which was trying to alight
upon their bodies and bite them. “Bother the ibolai fly!” said the big
ngina; “it bites so hard.” At the same time his eyes were watching for a
chance to catch it, but the ibolai was so quick in its motion that he
could not follow it.
The ibolai is cunning, and succeeded, unknown to him, in getting on the
ngina’s back, and gave him a most painful bite. The pain made the ngina
cry out. At that very time a fly called the nchouna, which makes no
noise at all and which is very cunning and sly, alighted on the face of
his mate, inserted its bill in her cheek so gently that she did not feel
it, and, after having had its fill of blood, left without its presence
being known. Soon after, the itching began, giving at times sharp stings
of pain.
“Bother the nchouna!” she cried angrily; “they are so sly that one never
knows when they alight upon one and the pain is only felt after the fly
has left. I wish all the nchounas were dead.”
A short time afterward the nginas heard a sharp whistle made by an iboco
fly, as it flew round them with such rapidity that their eyes could not
follow it in its course. The iboco would at times go far away and then
come back. At last it succeeded in alighting on the back of the big
ngina, who suddenly uttered a howl of pain.
“What is the matter, dear?” inquired her mate.
“Don’t speak of it; an iboco has given me a fearful bite. These ibocos
are the worst flies I know of. Let us get out of the way of the nchouna,
the ibolai, and the iboco, and go into the thickest part of the jungle.
There they will have no room to fly around us in.” And they immediately
moved into the thick jungle.
After they were comfortably seated in the jungle, the big ngina said to
his mate: “We have to roam continually, far and wide in the forest, to
get our living, and we eat so much every day that we cannot stay long in
one place. It is about time for us to travel toward the land of
pineapples. These must be good to eat now, for it is the moon of
thunder, great heat and rain. That land is a long way off, but we will
manage to get a living as we journey along. The tondos [a red fruit
growing above the ground] are plentiful, and we shall find also many
nuts.”
Toward sunset, when it was time for the nginas to go to sleep, they came
to a fine tree, and the huge fellow said to his mate, “Here is a good
place for us to spend the night.” Then Mamma Ngina ascended the tree
with her baby hanging to her, and seated herself on a heavy cross
branch, and placed her back against the trunk of the tree. After she was
comfortably settled, she looked down and said to her mate, “I know,
dear, that you will let no animal climb this tree, even if it is a
njego, and that you will fight to the death to protect us, for we do not
fight.”
“Surely,” answered her mate, with roars of defiance, “I will protect you
and our little one.”
Then he made himself comfortable on the ground, as was his custom every
evening, at the foot of the tree, where his mate slept, resting his back
against the trunk. That night their sleep was much disturbed, for a
leopard was in their neighborhood. He was lonely and wanted a mate, and
called for one, but he did not attack them.
At dawn they left their sleeping-place, and going first in search of
their breakfast, picked berries, nuts, and fruits, as they travelled in
the direction of the land of the pineapples, for they knew the way,
having been there before. Sometimes they had to separate during the day,
as there was not food enough for them all in any one place, but they
always remained within the sound of one another’s voices.
That evening, before they went to sleep, the big ngina said to his mate:
“To-morrow we will travel fast. Many nginas are travelling to the land
of the pineapples, as we are; and if we are late, we shall find that all
the pineapples have been eaten up, and we shall have made our long
journey for nothing.”
Toward dawn they were awakened by the cackling of partridges calling for
their mates. But it was not light enough for them to start. At daybreak
Mamma Ngina and her baby came down from their tree, and after greeting
one another the three continued their journey to the land of the
pineapples.
They passed through a region where food was scarce, so they broke
saplings of certain trees, tearing the outside and eating the heart,
that was very juicy and sweet, and the baby ngina was never forgotten
and was the first to be fed, and when they saw a few berries, these were
always for him.
One day the big ngina left his mate and baby and wandered through the
forest. After a while he scented leopards. At once the hair on his body
became erect, and he gave terrific yells and roars of defiance. When he
came to the lair of the leopards, he yelled again, but the leopards were
out seeking food for their young. Suddenly the big ngina became silent,
for his eyes were trying to see into the lair. Finally he made out three
little baby leopards walking about, and with one of his huge long arms
he seized one and flung him to the ground, killing him instantly. Then
he slew the two others in the same way and went off to rejoin his mate
and baby, to defend them against the njegos, should the latter be
prowling near them.
Great indeed was the rage of the leopards when they returned and saw
their young lying dead, but by that time the nginas were far away.
After a few days’ journey they came to the land of the pineapples, which
extended as far as the sea. Here they rejoiced greatly, and said, “The
pineapples are just right. We have come in good time.”
The pineapples were still green and hard; but they made great havoc
among them. The big ngina ate at least a barrel full without stopping,
his big stomach sticking out as if he had swallowed a barrel itself.
Then they went to rest in the thick of the forest, for where pineapples
grow in abundance the trees are not thick, and the nginas do not like to
spend the night in such exposed places.
The next morning the big ngina said to his mate, “To-day let us change
our food. Let us go after nuts, for we shall be sick if we eat
pineapples day after day.”
They found trees with plenty of nuts on that day, and stopped only when
they could not eat any more. The following day they went back to the
pineapple land, and there met a number of nginas who had come to feast
on the fruit. And as there was plenty of food for all, there was no
quarrelling, and the younger nginas made love to those who were not
mated.
After a few days the nginas began to get very fat. They approached the
sea and wondered what the constant booming was. At first they were shy,
but as the booming continued, their fear left them, and they walked
toward the Atlantic. Pineapples were still plentiful even near the
shore. They looked thoughtfully at the big sea. What they thought only
themselves knew.
After leaving the land of the pineapples, the three nginas wandered
through the forest, and got far away from the sea. At times they had
trouble to find food with which to satisfy their hunger, and had to go
during the day through large districts of the forest to seek it, and
many a time they went to sleep hungry and with their big stomachs much
shrunken. They had to separate during the day after, and each went in
search of food for himself, and before sunset they met again. Sometimes
when one of them came to a spot where food was abundant, he would call
the others to come, telling of the lucky find.