ARTS AND CRAFTS AND NATIVE INDUSTRY
A Congo lad in England—People doing no work—Erroneous views—A
condemnation of “niggers”—Its answer—White employers of black
labour—Allowances to be made—Leather-work—String making—Bark
cloth—Basket-work—Pottery—Dyeing and painting—Working in
metal—Aptitude for learning handicrafts.
Many years ago I brought a native lad of quick intelligence from the
wilds of Congo to my home in London. He noticed the people crowding the
pavements, filling the tram-cars, omnibuses, and trains; and his
frequent question was: “How do all these people live, for they seem only
to ride and walk about and do no work?” Later he observed that all the
articles in the various windows of the different tradespeople had prices
marked on them, and that money was necessary with which to buy them. He
had tried to procure things himself from the shops, and had learned by
sad experience that not only was money needful for that purpose, but the
right amount was requisite before he could become the happy possessor of
the coveted article so luringly displayed in the window; and then his
question was: “How do the people get the money with which to buy all
those things?”
“They have to work for their money,” I replied. “Some have to work hard
for very little money, others earn more by less laborious work, and
others again are fortunate enough to have had fathers who worked hard
and have left their sons and daughters so rich that they have no need to
work.”
“Work hard!” he exclaimed incredulously. “Why, they only ride, or walk
about the streets, or sit in shops eating and drinking. I do not see
them at work.”
I fear that if that lad had returned to his country then, he would have
carried with him a very poor idea of white folk, and would have regarded
us as a lazy lot who only walked or rode about the streets, or sat
eating and drinking in shops. It took many a long talk to explain our
system, and when later I had the opportunity of taking him behind the
scenes into factories, and over buildings in the course of erection, he
modified his views and came to understand that the white man _works_. At
the back of his mind was the idea, very prevalent among some of the
Congo tribes, that all our articles of barter are manufactured by the
blacks, whose dead bodies we have bought in Africa and sent to Mputu
(countries of the white people), where by the wonderful magic of the
white men the bodies are resurrected, and they are now doing our work
for us so that we can walk and ride about with nothing whatever to do.
It is the ignorance of one people about another that causes such
misunderstandings, prejudices, and erroneous judgments. The lad would
never have thought of charging the traders, the missionaries, or
Government officials with laziness, for he saw and understood their
work; but these white folk who crowded the streets, filled the vehicles
and the shops, what work did they do? He could not see it, and his
superficial and mistaken opinion was that they were an indolent lot of
folk.
Sitting at tea with me one day at Monsembe was the captain of a State
steamer. _À propos_ of nothing in particular, he exclaimed: “What lazy
fellows these niggers are!”
“To whom are you specially referring?” I inquired of him.
“Well,” he said, “before coming to your house to tea this afternoon I
took a walk through the town and saw some men lounging about talking,
and others asleep under the shade of some plantain and fig trees.”
“Oh, yes,” I replied; “I know them very well. Some of them have been for
several weeks over on the islands, living in rough shanties, fishing all
day and smoke-drying their fish over their fires during the evenings.
They returned this morning after their long spell on the islands, and
they are resting for a few days before starting on another fishing
expedition. Another lot of men came in yesterday with that heavy canoe
in the rough that you saw on the beach. They were away some weeks
felling a huge tree, hollowing it out, and shaping it in the rough with
their little axes—a laborious job. Yesterday they floated it home, and
are now enjoying a well-earned rest before finishing the canoe and
selling it. What you saw was not an exhibition of laziness, but a
relaxation after prolonged arduous work.”
Just then a strongly-formed, well-built young man went past the house.
“There, do you see him?” asked my visitor; “I saw him asleep in his
hammock-chair.”
“Yes, I know him,” was my reply; “he is one of the head-men of this
district. His father was wealthy as natives go in this part, and left
him enough to give him the equivalent of £300 a year in your money.
Would you work if you had £300 a year coming in?”
“By Jove, no!” he quickly replied, slapping his knee at the very idea of
possessing £300 a year without working for it. “I would have a nice
little house with a fine garden, and I would sit smoking all day in the
midst of my flowers.”
“Just so!!!” was my comment.
The natives of Africa live in an enervating climate, with a temperature
frequently nearer 95° in the shade than 70°. They dwell in the midst of
a prolific nature that supplies their vegetable foods with very little
exertion, and in such environments that their needs are few and easily
met. In their natural state there are both lazy and industrious folk as
in other countries.
When the white man arrives he engages his native workman, at so much per
month, for twelve, eighteen, or twenty-four months. For the first time
in his life the native has to work regular hours, starting and leaving
off to the deep notes of a bell, or the tap, tap of a drum. At first the
experience is novel, and he is most willing and hard-working; but
pay-day is a long way off, his enthusiasm cools as the novelty passes
away, and then the master will have to look vigilantly and constantly
after his hired workman. Give him piece-work and pay him by results and
you will see prodigies of labour, for every payment made on those lines
is an incentive to further effort. The native as keenly enjoys money and
what money brings in extra food, comforts, and prestige as the white
man, and is as willing to work for them.
The employer of labour in Africa is the white man, and he desires to get
as much work as he can for his money, and the employee tries to give as
little of his energy and strength as he can for the pay he is to receive
twelve, eighteen, or twenty-four months hence, consequently there is a
clash of interests; and while the white man has the opportunity, among
his friends, of talking loudly about the “lazy niggers,” let him sit
with the natives round the fire one evening, and he may be surprised to
learn that there is another point of view, and that not over-flattering
to his fairness as a master.
I have frequently asked employers of labour in England whether they were
satisfied with the work done for them by their day labourers, and while
they readily allowed for exceptions, yet they spoke strongly of such men
as “doing as little as possible for their pay.” Every branch of work
that it is possible to give out as piece-work is nowadays so arranged.
Why? The masters are satisfied, for they get done that for which they
pay; the men are better pleased, for they receive what they earn, and
the quickest and most industrious man gains the largest pay, and his
superior energy is not balanced against the laziest man in the shop. Let
us do justice to the black man. He is the only one who in such a climate
can work long hours at a time, and for months at a stretch. All the
evidences of civilization on the Congo are the results of his energy and
endurance directed by his white master. He is, however, no fonder of
work than the average white man; but like the latter he is willing to
labour to increase his comforts in the house, his prestige in the
village, and to meet his obligations as a man, a husband, and a father,
for each relationship makes its own demands on his resources.
In 1890 we opened our Mission station at Monsembe, but previous to our
arrival the natives had not had sufficient intercourse with white people
either to increase their arts and industries or even to modify them by
the introduction of new methods or new tools. The natives then were as
they had been for many a generation, and their manufactures were limited
by the materials at their disposal. In judging of the merits or demerits
of the manufactures of a tribe, it is necessary to take into
consideration the materials to be obtained in their district and the
tools with which they are compelled, by force of circumstances, to do
their work. Suppose the Lancashire people were restricted in their
manufactures to such material as they could obtain from the surface of
their county, and the small supplies that filtered through to them from
the adjacent counties by laborious and costly transport over the hills,
or by canoes on their rushing streams, we should hear nothing of the
cotton mills, the weaving, the iron works, etc., of that industrious and
hardy folk. It is what has been brought into the county, what has been
dug from the bowels of its land, and the machinery and tools that have
been imported into it that have given Lancashire the place it rightly
holds in the commercial and industrial world. And what has been written
of Lancashire can also be said of many another county in Great Britain,
and should be recognized when judging of the merits or demerits of the
arts and crafts of an African tribe.
Before the arrival of white men at Monsembe it was the practice of the
natives to ornament their saucepans with a herring-bone pattern and with
bands; their knives and spears with parallel incised lines, and with
herring-bone pattern; their shields being made of basket-work material
had often a border of lozenge pattern round the edge. The blades of
paddles had parallel incised lines, and their canoes had the same kind
of lines along the outer top edge. Handles of knives and hafts of spears
were made in various shapes, and studded with brass nails, or bound
round with brass ribbon. I never saw any drawings until I had been there
a considerable time, and then they took to sketching on the fronts of
their houses, and on letters they sent to each other. These sketches
were of steamers, houses, and people. The drawings were done in
charcoal, and when outlining a figure the cock’s-comb tattoo on the
forehead was usually much exaggerated. They had no idea of perspective,
but a sense of humour was often exhibited when “taking off” a person.
The hides and skins of animals were employed for various purposes. The
skin of the hippopotamus was used for cuirasses; that of the buffalo,
antelope, goat, and sheep for belts, basket-straps, and knife sheaths;
that of the monkey, sygale, monitor, mongoose and civet cat for hats,
belts, small sheaths, and ornamental aprons, or for containing charms;
that of the boa constrictor and other large snakes for belts, sheaths,
and drum heads. The skin was either stretched and pinned by wooden pegs
on the ground, or laced on a frame. The bits of flesh were cut off, some
wood ash rubbed on, and then it was left to dry in the sun. If a soft,
flexible skin was desired, oil was rubbed into the skin after it was
thoroughly dry. It was not the custom to take the hair off any of the
skins. Leopard skins were prepared by the above mode, and were usually
preserved whole as mats upon which chiefs and head-men sat.
If the owner of an animal wished to sell the flesh in open market the
skin was not taken off, but the animal was so cut up that a piece of
skin was left on each portion. The buyer could then see the kind of
animal flesh offered for sale, and would know for a certainty whether it
was tabooed to him or not. Goats, sheep, and dogs were thus cut up and
hawked for sale through the villages. This custom of cutting up the
animals so that the requirements of taboo might be met accounts for the
destruction of a large number of skins in Africa; but when a party of
hunters captured an antelope it was skinned, or when a family killed a
goat or sheep and did not wish to sell any of it, the animal was skinned
whole, and the hide was preserved and utilized. Although the skin of the
electric fish (_nina_) is more than half an inch thick, I never saw it
used for any purpose; in fact, the people would not even eat the flesh.
I once tried to dry the skin in the hot, strong sun, but it became
putrid before the sun had any effect on it.
There was a great demand for string, and it was met in the following
way: The bark of a water-plant, called by the natives _munkungi_, was
manufactured into rope and string. The withes were cut into lengths from
3 to 4 feet long and carried into the town, the bark was then peeled
off—it strips easily—carefully scraped on both sides by running it
between the edge of a knife and a board, and then spread in the sun to
dry. The strips were taken in the hand, length by length, and spun by
twisting them between the palm of the hand and the thigh of the
operator. The different threads were then plaited into a string, and
these were twisted together into cords three-eighths of an inch in
diameter. Sometimes the palm-frond fibres were employed for making the
finer strings and twine.
The strong cords were used for tying up their canoes and bundles; and
also plaited into mats about 3 feet long by 1 foot to 1 foot 6 inches
wide, for crushing the sugar-cane fibre when making sugar-cane wine. The
better-made strings and twines were made into shoulder-bags or satchels,
and also into fighting-belts. These belts were from 9 to 12 feet long,
and about 4 or 5 inches wide, and were generally well smeared with pipe
clay; they were wound round the abdomen just before a fight, and
afforded a good protection against spear-thrusts. The string was wound
on a wooden spool, and the fish-nets, of all sizes and shapes, were made
by the ordinary process of netting, the mesh varying according to the
size and purpose of the net.
For some years after we arrived at Monsembe the old folk wore bark
cloth. A strip of bark 18 inches long by 5 or 6 inches wide, and 1½
inches thick was taken from the tree—the wild fig tree, or from a tree
called _ngumbu_. The strip of bark was soaked in water for a time, and
then beaten with an ivory mallet as it lay across the palm of the hand.
The strip of bark gradually widened to 18 inches, and lengthened to 3 or
4 feet. Some cloths were very evenly beaten, so that no holes appeared;
others were not so well done, and holes and uneven places showed in the
finished cloth. _Likuta_ was the name given to the finished cloth. I
never saw any weaving among these Boloki folk, but they told me of an
ancient native-made cloth called _pelele_; but I never saw a specimen of
it, and cannot speak of its texture.
[Illustration:
A BANGALA WOMAN’S DRESS
This is one of about fifteen fringes that a woman wears tied round her
waist. The more _chic_ the wearer the shorter the fringes are cut.
They are made from scraped palm leaves.
]
Not many baskets were made by the Boloki folk, but the most common was a
wedge-shaped basket of medium texture, and with a capacity of about half
a bushel, used for carrying home farm produce. This was made of split
cane, of the same thickness and style as the seat of a cane chair. It
was a large oval at the mouth running down to a small oval at the
bottom, and was carried on the back either by a single strap across the
chest or forehead, or by two small loops through which the arms were
passed. For soaking their cassava roots long conical baskets were used
with lids to tie down. Occasionally I saw their large sugar-cane
wine-pots covered with stout basket-work, and strong handles plaited on
to them. Other kinds of baskets found amongst this tribe were made by
slaves captured or bought from neighbouring districts; and their shields
of basket-work were, I believe, bought ready-made from other tribes. I
never saw one in the making. A very large variety of fish-traps and
baskets were made by these folk. Some were over 6 feet in diameter and
long in proportion, while others were small enough for a child to
handle. They were very dexterous in twisting canes into various shapes
for their basket-work, and in making mats from papyrus.
The pottery made by the Boloki women divides itself easily into three
kinds: 1. Saucepans of various sizes but only one shape. 2. Wine-pots
from 6 inches high to 2 and 3 feet high and broad in proportion. 3.[11]
Firepans or hearths for carrying fire in their canoes when travelling.
These latter had three prongs overhanging the top of the saucepan, upon
which an ordinary cooking-pot could be placed, and allow of a free
passage of air to the fire.
Footnote 11:
No. 1 was called _lobeki_. No. 2 _mobako_, or a small size _ndubu_.
No. 3 was named _lokenge_. There were many other names, but they only
differentiated the sizes, and also showed whether they were well or
badly made, etc.
They had no knowledge of a wheel, but built up their pottery on a base
by rolling the clay between the palms of the hands into long pencils
about the size of a finger, and then welding the strip to the base and
flattening it out with the fingers as they worked round the pot. The
only decorations I have seen on their pottery are “chevrons” and
“herring-bone.”
In baking their pottery no kilns were used, but firewood was laid
carefully on the ground, and the pots arranged on the top, and then
small firewood, twigs, etc., were thrown over the whole pile and the
fire lighted.
On the Mobangi River I saw some varnishing done. When the pots were
sufficiently baked, and while still very hot, they were rubbed over with
lumps of gum copal. Pots treated in this way were suitable for
drinking-vessels, or as dishes in which to place food; but they were
unsuitable for cooking purposes, for directly the pot got hot the gum
copal caught fire. Some, before being rubbed over with the gum copal,
were smeared with arnotto dye, and thus showed red through the glazing.
Iron ore was imported from the upper reaches of the Lulanga River, and
smelted in native crucibles. The furnace was a hole about 18 inches
deep, about 15 inches in diameter at the top, and 8 to 10 inches at the
bottom. Charcoal made from hard woods was the heating medium. The
smelting pot with the ore was put in the middle of the furnace, and the
blast was furnished by native bellows and conducted to the heart of the
furnace by a funnel-shaped tube of burnt clay. The bellows were cut out
of a solid block of wood. There were two holes, each from 8 to 12 inches
in diameter, which opened below into a common wooden tube which fitted
into the above-mentioned clay funnel. Over each of the holes a soft skin
was securely tied, and to the centre of each skin was fixed a stick
about 3 feet 6 inches long. The operator worked the sticks up and down
alternately, and the more vigorously he worked the more powerful the
blast.
[Illustration:
_Photo by_: _Rev. R. H. Kirkland_
POTS AND SAUCEPANS FOR SALE. LIBINZA LAKE
A wheel is unknown, but the pottery is generally very perfect in
shape. The pots are baked, and sometimes glazed with gum copal.
Those with three prongs are used for cooking while travelling in a
canoe. The saucepan of food is supported on the three prongs, and
small firewood is put in the openings.
]
The native blacksmith made hoes and axes; knives of various shapes and
sizes; spear-heads of different kinds, barbed for fishing-spears,
small-bladed ones for fighting, or broad-bladed fancy spears for
purposes of show when visiting friends and neighbours. He also fashioned
large hooks for catching crocodiles, the razors for shaving the head or
face, lances for killing hippopotami, knives for household use, gouges
and chisels for canoe-making, and piercers for matmaking. Unfortunately
the introduction of European knives, hoes, and axes has ruined this
native industry.
For some time after we settled at Monsembe the blacksmith would buy up
the iron bands from our bales and boxes, and work them up into hoes,
knives, axes, and spear-heads. The anvil was a block of hard wood, the
hammer was a bar of iron about 8 or 10 inches long, and 1¼ inches
square. They had no pincers, but when the piece of iron was too short to
hold while working it they made a wooden handle for it, which they
slipped on and off as required. They knew the process for making steel,
and could put a very fine edge on their razors, spears, and knives.
Large brass rings for the neck were made in the following way: The
potato-like substance of the plantain root was cut into shape of the
desired circumference and thickness; this model was surrounded with
well-kneaded clay, a funnel-shaped opening being made to let off steam,
to clear out the charred fibre of the plantain root, and to pour in the
molten metal. This mould, when completed, was baked in the fire, and as
it baked the plantain-root model inside was burnt; the ashes were
cleared out and the liquid brass poured in. When cool, the mould was
broken and the brass ring was well polished by scraping and rubbing, and
“herring-bone,” and “lozenge” patterns were cut on it.
Small rings were made for the legs and wrists. A ring was put on each
leg, resting on the ankles; a year or so later another pair of rings was
added to the first pair, and so on, until the rings almost reached the
knees. By gradually adding ring to ring the wearer became used to the
weight, and the ankles became corneous. I once took more than a dozen
rings from the legs of a woman, weighing 60 lbs. in all—30 lbs. of brass
on each leg. When these heavy rings had been removed the woman seemed
top-heavy; her legs were now so light that apparently she had no control
over them, and she crossed our enclosure like a drunken person. I have
seen solid brass necklets weighing from 20 to 28 lbs. each. On one
occasion, while chatting with a chief, I asked him if he buried the
brass rings when his wives died, and he at once replied: “No.”
“How do you remove such heavy, strong rings from the neck of a dead
woman?” was my next question.
He did not reply in words, but he ran his finger round his own neck,
indicating that under such circumstances they cut off the head in order
to remove the rings.
Long spiral leg rings were made in the following manner: A bamboo, from
12 to 15 feet long, was split (bamboo, _Raphia vinifera_, in which there
are no nodes). The pith, to the desired depth and width, was taken out
of one half and the molten brass[12] was poured along this channel. This
gave the operator a long brass rod about the thickness of the index
finger, and this rod was carefully beaten round, scraped, and polished;
and starting from the ankle it was wound round and round the leg nearly
up to the knee, each circumference of the spiral being made a little
larger than the one immediately below it. At the bottom the leglet
impinged on the ankle, which bore the whole weight; but at the top it
had 2 or 3 inches’ play about the calf of the leg. Brass ribbon was made
by beating out the brass rods to the required width, and this ribbon was
used for ornamenting spear and knife handles, the hafts of paddles, and
knife sheaths.
Footnote 12:
Copper (_dikulu_) was known, but I never saw any of it worked, and
only very little worn as ornaments.
The social position of a smith among the natives was very high, and he
was regarded with as much respect as a professional man is in Europe.
The natives thought that the smith was not only wise and skilful, but
that he practised witchcraft in order to perform his work properly. No
one was allowed to step over a smith’s furnace, nor blow it with his
mouth, nor spit into it, as either of these actions would pollute the
fire, and thus cause bad workmanship. Any person polluting the fire
would have to compensate the smith by the payment of a heavy fine. A
smith taught his son or his nephew the trade, but would not take an
apprentice on any consideration. He was always known by the name of his
trade, and was consequently called _motuli_ = the one who _tula_, or
works in iron.
[Illustration:
A NATIVE WOMAN OF WEALTH
She has highly prized beads across her chest, a brass chain around her
waist from which dangles a large brass bell, numerous brass rings
round her arms, and brass rings on her big toes. On her legs she has
spiral brass rings.
]
How did the smith procure his brass for the making of rings, etc.? The
currency of the country was the brass rod, and the rods were also used
for their brass-work. The brass-worker would collect as many rods as
possible, and cut from half an inch to one inch off each rod, and thus
get his material for nothing.
Before, and for some time after, the arrival of white men salt[13] was
made by the natives burning two different kinds of vegetation. (1) The
thick, succulent stems of a grass[14] that grew in the water along the
banks of the river. This was cut in large quantities and heaped along
the bank until dry, when it was carried to the town. (2) It was also
made from a small plant from 4 to 5 inches in diameter, with thickish
leaves, no stem, rootlets coming straight from the leaves, with the
leaves arranged like a rosette. This plant floats on the river in large
quantities, being torn from the banks by every storm that ruffles the
river. The process of manufacturing salt with either the plants or the
grass was the same. A large quantity, say of the succulent grass, or
grass and plants mixed, was collected on the bank, turned over from time
to time until thoroughly dry; then it was carried to the town, heaped
up, and burnt to ashes. A large funnel was made of leaves, folded and
plaited together, and suspended from a stick. Into this funnel some
ashes were put and water poured on them. The water dissolved the greater
part of the ashes and percolated gently through the leaves into a
shallow saucepan, where the moisture evaporated, leaving behind a dirty
white granulated substance which was used and sold as salt. About a
tablespoonful cost 1½d. I knew a semi-mad man who ate two tablespoonfuls
of this salt and died in a few hours from the effect of it.
Footnote 13:
Native names for salt, _monana_ and _mokwa_.
Footnote 14:
Called by the natives _monkoko mwa njoko_ = sugar-cane of the
elephant, because it was so juicy.
The Boloki were very fond of music, and quickly acquired a new tune.
Their voices, as a rule, were loud, clear, steady, and flexible, and
they sang from the chest. There were harsh, strident voices among them,
but they were the exception, and at certain ages their voices broke and
became falsetto. Their singing was mixed, i.e. men and women sang
together, and was generally accompanied by an instrument, or by the
beating of a stick on a plank, or the clapping of hands to give the
time. In some ceremonies the women sang by themselves, at other times
the men by themselves, and very often the two sexes together, as when
travelling in their canoes. The companies sang in unison, and recitative
time. Many of their songs were a combination of solo and chorus.
When paddling their canoes, either a small drum was beaten or a stick
struck rhythmically on the edge of the canoe to give time to the stroke
of their paddles, and to the rhythm of their songs, solos, and choruses.
As a rule one sang a solo, and the others took up the chorus. Their
songs were generally topical, and as they paddled up- or down-river they
gave all the latest information of interest to the villages as they
passed them. I have often been amazed at the rapidity and accuracy with
which news was spread in this way. A canoe leaving Nouvelles Anvers
(Diboko), where the State had a large station, would carry up or down
river all the gossip about the doings and sayings of the white men of
the station, accounts of their punitive expeditions, judgments passed on
captives and prisoners, their treatment of the natives who had taken the
taxes there, what new white folk were expected and who was leaving for
Europe, etc. The white officers told their personal boys any item of
news, and they passed on the items to their friends; hence in the course
of an hour or two everybody on a station was acquainted with all the
special bits of information worth knowing.
[Illustration:
_Photo by_: _Rev. R. H. Kirkland_
BURNING GRASS FOR MAKING SALT
The proper kind of grass is collected, dried, and burnt. A funnel of
large leaves is prepared, some of the ashes are put in the funnel
and water poured over them. This percolates through the leaves, and
when evaporated leaves a thin layer of salt.
]
This singing answered another purpose: it gave warning to the village
that a canoe was approaching, and that the folk in it were friendly. A
canoe of any size that approached a town without singing and drumming
was regarded as an enemy’s canoe, and was treated as such, i.e. spears,
stones, etc., would be thrown at the occupants of it.
Occasionally a professional singer would visit our town and teach the
young men a new tune. He charged two or three brass rods per person, but
would not teach the tune unless he had enough pupils to pay him, and
then he would stay a day or two until they had learned the tune
perfectly; and when once they had caught it they would set their own
words to it. A few years ago I wrote in my notebook as follows: “A
professional dancer and singer has recently visited the town, and, like
so many of his European brethren, he was marked by some eccentricity in
dress. He wore a belt of red and blue baize about 18 inches wide (the
usual width is 4 to 8 inches), which made him the observed of all
observers. Our professional in walking about the town put on a swagger
fully in keeping with his position and dignity—his bells tingled, and
his monkey and wild cat skins dangled to and fro. He received a large
fee from a mourning family that engaged him to dance and sing in honour
of their dead relatives.”
The native songs may be divided into three classes: (_a_) topical, as
sung in canoes while distributing news; (_b_) local songs, in which the
events of the daily life of the village are temporarily recorded, as the
bravery, cowardice, unsociability, generosity, meanness, thievishness,
etc., of the men and women of village or town. These local songs have a
great effect on the people, for they crystallize the public opinion
concerning an individual, and the African hates nothing so much as being
sung against or ridiculed in a song. (_c_) Songs at funeral festivities,
when the praises of the dead are sung.
They borrowed tunes freely from other tribes, and soon learned to sing
all the European tunes we cared to teach them; but I do not think that
any sounds affected them like the rhythmical beat of their own drums. To
that beat they would paddle vigorously for hours beneath the tropical
sun; dance perspiringly through a long afternoon, or through a long
night; fight recklessly, or drink their sugar-cane wine until their
stomachs were well distended.
[Illustration:
A WOODEN HEAD-REST OR PILLOW
When the hair has been dressed, at the expense of much time and money,
the dandy sleeps with his neck on a pillow of this kind to avoid
disarranging the hair.
]
They were clever in making canoes, which were cut out of solid trees,
sometimes from soft woods, but generally from hard timber, such as
cedar, mahogany, and even camwood. These canoes were sometimes small
enough to be handled by a child, and carried by one person, and so
shallow of draught that they would run easily over a few inches of
water; but they were also made large enough to take from 60 to 70
paddlers, and more than half a ton of cargo. The tree was felled and
roughly shaped in the forest, and then floated to the town of the maker.
It was drawn up out of the river, and a rough shelter built over it to
shade the worker and keep the canoe from warping. A piece of _Euphorbia
candelabra_ was tied to it, and the maker was not to drink water while
working on it, otherwise it would leak; and the charm kept it from
cracking and warded off all evil influences from spoiling it.
They were also expert in making paddles, handles for axes and hoes, and
in carving out chairs from solid blocks of wood. These latter had four
legs and gracefully curving backs, but cost so much that only chiefs and
head-men could afford them; and when they went to a drinking-bout at a
neighbour’s it was no uncommon sight to see the women carrying the
chairs and stools to accommodate their lords and masters in comfort
while drinking. The natives, with teaching, made good carpenters, and
were always handy with tools. Our advent, with new ideas of building and
with many tools the like of which they had never seen before, opened to
them fresh channels of industry; and as they lost their fear of the
“witch-doctor” and were set free from his accusations of “witchcraft”
they gave vent to their skill by imitating our dwellings, our furniture,
and other conveniences that they saw about our houses, and had seen us
make out of the very materials that they had always had to their hand.
They eagerly exchanged fowls and other kinds of food for our tools, and
we were always ready to help them. Before our arrival the
“witch-doctor,” by threats of “witchcraft,” killed every aspiration of
the people and smothered every sign of inventive genius that exhibited
itself. To make anything out of the ordinary—any new article—was to be
regarded as a “witch,” and trouble was sure to follow any suspicion of
that kind. There was no hope for them until they burst the bonds that
held them in thraldom to their “witch-doctors”; but once released from
those miserable trammels, no limits can be set to their future progress.
------------------------------------------------------------------------