MYTHOLOGY AND FOLK LORE
Ideas concerning rebirth—Ideas concerning white men—A hippopotamus
spirit—A prediction—Reticence of natives—Recited round the fire—The
origin of man—The sun—A deluge—The destruction of the world—Fifteen
folk-lore stories.
There were misty ideas, but no definite belief, concerning the rebirth
of their deceased ancestors. A few years before Stanley descended the
Congo there was a general belief extant among the Boloki that many of
their ancestors would appear in another form, and yet would be
recognizable by similarity of features to those whose _appearances_ the
spirits took. When the white men arrived this belief seemed to be
confirmed by the fact that the natives often thought they saw a likeness
in the features, walk, or gestures of some of the white men to dead men
whom they knew. I myself have often been surprised and amused when a
motion, a glance, or some little peculiarity among these folk has called
vividly to mind some person I knew at home. There was one man I never
met without having a certain uncle of mine recalled to mind, and another
person—a girl—always by an indescribable something reminded me of a girl
I knew in England.
When we came here in 1890 my colleague was thought to resemble a chief
who had died some time before, and I was thought to be like another
deceased chief belonging to a family that had a hippopotamus for its
omen (not totem, that is another word); and this view was confirmed by
my firing on two successive nights at a hippopotamus that came prowling
about our beach, for the animal sent me a message.[21]
Footnote 21:
See Chapter XIX, p. 266, for full details.
We found a prediction extant that white men would come, and some of them
would be like chiefs who had died; but this slight suspicion of a belief
in reincarnation may, I think, be accounted for by rumours of the white
men having filtered through from the coasts. The Boloki thirty-five
years ago were a strong, war-loving people who travelled far and wide on
the river; and slaves were bought and exchanged from widely different
parts, and, of course, carried with them the news and rumours, true and
false, of their last residences. This factor in the disseminating of
religious belief, and the interweaving of those beliefs into what is
often a patchwork system of belief, has not always been properly allowed
for in dealing with the superstitions of African races.
Soon after we opened our station in August, 1890, I tried to procure
some native stories from the boys, but failed in every attempt. I felt
sure, however, that they had folk tales, and therefore persevered,
though nearly two years passed before I was successful. One evening, in
the early months of 1892, some boys sat on the floor of my house talking
while I was busy writing. After a time I noticed that one was talking
and the others listening intently. I made a mental note of the
circumstance, and the next day I asked the lad to write out on a slate
(for in the meantime we had taught them to read and write) the palaver
he had told the boys on the previous evening. He did so, and I found it
was a native story. I gave him a few brass rods, asked him to write some
more, which he did; and in a short time I had four or five boys writing
stories on my verandah, and very often one boy who knew a story, but
could not write, sat and told it to one who could, and then shared the
spoil. We have between sixty and seventy native stories, and most of
them were handed down by one chief who, although he died long before we
came here, was spoken of to us with respect on account of his wide
knowledge of the ancient myths[22] and customs. Most of the stories we
printed in a book and used it as a reading-book in the classes. There
were many stories about men, women, and animals, and to each story a
moral was attached.
Footnote 22:
In the chapter on Religious Beliefs will be found some information on
their ideas of a Supreme Being; and in Chapter XIX, on spirits and
mythical monsters that inhabit the islands and forests.
The stories were told on moonless nights around the village fires when
it was too dark to dance and play, or around the camp fires when
travelling and fishing. The stories relate the cunning way in which some
animals outwit others—generally the smaller ones outwitting the larger
and more cumbersome; that the biter is himself bit, and the bully
overwhelmed with ridicule. Many of the stories try to account for the
peculiarities observed in nature, as why birds build nests in certain
ways, or have no nests at all; the enmity among the various animals; the
presence of dogs and fowls in the towns; the cause of death and the
origin of fire. Some stories would well illustrate the text: “Be sure
your sin will find you out”; while others are absurdly comic, and many
of them dirty.
A line from some of the stories was often used as a proverb, or to call
up the situation described in the story as a warning to a person not to
overreach another, or he himself may fall. No European elements were to
be found in them, as they were procured before we could talk freely with
the natives, and certainly before our teaching had in any way influenced
their thoughts and modes of expression.
Many of the stories were recited for amusement, but most of them were
told as true, even the amusing ones; and they undoubtedly embody the
wit, wisdom, and philosophy of life. Some are only remarkable for the
way in which they account for the present state of affairs in the
physical and moral worlds; others give a clear insight into the mind of
the native, and his view of the spirit-world; and these stories were at
times narrated in their “palavers” to enforce a point and drive home a
moral.
I did not meet, among the Boloki, with any stories or legends regarding
the origin of man, of the sun, of a deluge, or of the destruction of the
world. There were stories of folk with tails, but not of animal
ancestors; of dwarfs and frightful monstrosities—all heads and no
body—but not of giants. When the end of a rainbow touches a town a death
is sure to occur there, and the bright red after-glow occasionally seen
at sunset indicates the death of a chief. I have already given the
legend about the moon having once been a python.
The following are a few typical stories,[23] and in translating them I
have kept as near the original as possible. No ideas have been added,
and no plot has been altered, but the translator has tried to give in
easy English a true representation of the stories.
Footnote 23:
The stories given are of course Boloki stories; but the writer has
published some forty Lower Congo stories in _Congo Life and
Folk-Lore_, R.T.S. 5s. net.
It must be remembered that the morals appended to the stories were put
there by the natives when they wrote them down for me; and when I was
sitting with them around their fires and hearing them relate the stories
I noticed that the moral was always given, and frequently formed the
subject of comment, and of angry curses being called down on the one who
was credited with starting such bad customs.
[Illustration:
_Photo by: Rev. C. J. Dodds_
BOLOKI BOYS WITH WINE JAR
This well illustrates the methods of wearing a cloth by the male folk.
Either a string is tied round the waist and the cloth hung—back and
front—over it, or the corners are tied at the side. The wine jar has
a capacity of several gallons. There are not more than two or three
in a large village; but they are freely lent.
]
STORY I
_The Adventures of Libanza; or, a Boloki version of
Jack and the Beanstalk_
Libanza and his sister, Nsongo, started on their travels in the long
ago, and as they journeyed Libanza changed himself into a boy covered
with yaws. A man out hunting turned aside from his party of hunters, and
meeting Libanza and his sister, he exclaimed: “I have found some
slaves!” He thereupon took possession of them and led them to the
hunting camp.
Their new master and the other hunters were there for the purpose of
snaring monkeys, and although their master caught some, yet he was not
very successful. So one day Libanza said to him: “Give me the snares,
and let me try to catch some monkeys.”
But as he appeared to be such a poor, weak boy covered with yaws, the
master laughed at him, and twitted him with his smallness. However, on
being repeatedly asked, the master gave the boy the snares, and he
caught thirty monkeys in a very little time, and brought them back to
the camp to be divided among the hunters.
While the hunters were busy dividing the monkeys, Libanza and his sister
took some meat and ran away. After journeying for a long distance they
came near to a large town, and again Libanza turned himself into a boy
covered with yaws.
The people of the town were pounding sugar-canes for making sugar-cane
wine; but a man seeing them claimed them as his slaves, and brought them
and sat them on the end of the large wooden mortar in which the other
men were pounding up the canes.
After a time Libanza said: “Give me a pestle,[24] so that I may crush
the canes.” But the people laughed that so small a lad should make such
a request.
Footnote 24:
The pestles for crushing sugar-canes are like heavy clubs, made of
hard wood, and weigh from 20 lbs. to 30 lbs. each.
However, after he had repeatedly asked, they gave him a pestle, and
Libanza used it with such vigour that it snapped in two. They brought
him two others, and taking one in each hand he pounded so strongly that
they also broke; and thus he broke all they had in the town except the
last one, and with that he ran away, and the people feared to follow
him.
As they travelled, Nsongo caught sight of a person in the distance and
wanted to marry him; but on being called the person would not come to
her. So Libanza changed himself, first into a shell and then into a
saucepan, and followed the man; but in these disguises Libanza was not
able to catch the man for his sister because he ran away filled with
fear.
Libanza then turned himself into the handle of an axe, and when the man
came to pick up the handle, Libanza caught him and led him to his
sister. Now this person had only one leg and simple stumps for fingers;
and Nsongo, on a closer view observing these deformities, refused to
have him for a husband.
Libanza and his sister, Nsongo, resumed their wanderings, and on passing
a palm tree Nsongo saw a bunch of ripe palm nuts, and she implored her
brother to ascend the tree and cut down the nuts. Libanza climbed the
palm tree, and as he ascended it the palm tree grew higher and higher
and higher, until the top was hid in the heavens,[25] and there Libanza
alighted, leaving his sister down below on the earth.
Footnote 25:
The word used here is _bolobo_ = the upper regions, of which place
they had very hazy ideas. About the lower regions—_longa_—they always
spoke more definitely, and would describe what took place there.
When Nsongo was left on the earth she heard a rumbling noise, which she
thought was her brother, Libanza, scolding up above. She called a
“wizard,” and asked him how she could rejoin her brother.
The “wizard” said: “You must call a Hawk, and tell him you want to send
a packet to your brother, Libanza; and then tie yourself up into a
packet and put yourself on the roof of a house, and when the Hawk sees
it he will say, ‘That is surely the parcel I am to take,’ and the Hawk
will carry you up above.”
Nsongo did as she was told by the “wizard,” and the Hawk saw the bundle
and picked it up; but twice on the way the Hawk rested and tried to open
the parcel, and would have done so, but at each attempt he heard a deep
sigh proceed from the interior of the bundle, and desisted.
At last the Hawk reached the place where Libanza was, and said to him,
“Here is a packet which your sister has sent to you.” Now when Libanza
essayed to undo the parcel, out came his sister.
Libanza became a blacksmith, and there was in that country a person
whose name was Ngombe, and because he swallowed people every day he was
also called Emele Ngombe (Ngombe the Swallower).
When Libanza heard about this Swallower of people, he called his bellows
blower, Nkumba (Tortoise), and they heated an ingot of iron. Now as the
Swallower was passing the smithy he made the sound “Kililili,” and
Libanza mocked him by saying, “Alalalala.” Ngombe the Swallower then
asked: “Who dares to ridicule me?” And again he murmured, “Kililili.”
And Libanza answered him by saying: “Ngalalala,[26] I am anjaka-njaka
lokwala la lotungi, Libanza, the brother of Nsongo.”
Footnote 26:
This is the full name of Libanza. It means: The one who makes things
with force and noise and runs off with them, whose scraped
finger-nails are tied with cane, he who is Libanza the brother of
Nsongo.
The Swallower went at Libanza with his mouth wide-stretched to gulp him
down, and as he went his lower jaw dragged along the ground. Libanza
stirred the molten metal, the Tortoise blew the bellows, and as the
Swallower rushed forward with his mouth wide open Libanza threw the
liquid metal right into the gaping jaws, and the Swallower of people
fell dead.
There are several folk-lore stories that have crystallized for us their
ideas concerning Libanza, and it is interesting to note that such
stories are called _Mabanza_ (plural form of Libanza), and these contain
a statement of some of the doings of Libanza, whereas their word for
fable, parable, story is _mokulu_. The common opinion was that Libanza
lived on the earth, and was the first to go into heaven. His origin,
life, and adventures as told in their folk stories are briefly as
follows:
Libanza’s mother (names of father and mother were never given) gave
birth first to elephants, the various kinds of bush animals, the
different varieties of flies and insects, and to the amphibia; then his
mother told him to come out, but before Libanza would do so he ordered
his mother to scrape her finger-nails; when she had done this he threw
out spears, shield, a chair covered with brass nails, and finally came
out himself.
Libanza’s father, according to another folk story, was trapped and
killed while stealing some _nsafu_ fruit for his wife. And he acquainted
his wife of his death by causing a fetish horn he had left with her to
overflow with blood. As soon as Libanza was born he inquired about his
father and the manner of his death, and set himself to punish the one
who had killed him, which after a series of futile attempts he finally
accomplished by slaying the murderer of his father. Then comes the story
of his own adventures, which reach their climax in the destruction of
the Swallower of people.
It is not at all improbable that Libanza is the name of some great chief
who by his resource and courage delivered the people from great peril
and oppression, and around whose name have gathered many myths, and to
him is ascribed great magical power. In the original story much magic is
performed to meet the various difficulties that arise, as changing
himself into different shapes, making horns and saucepans move and
speak, and resurrecting broken and dead animals. No moral qualities were
ascribed to Libanza, but he was regarded as being very strong, and rich.
When our steamer, the _Peace_, made her first journey up-river, the
Boloki of Monsembe told me that they thought it was “Libanza going to
Singitingi (Stanley Falls) to visit his sister Nsongo.” They could hear
the noise of the engines, but as they could see no paddles they thought
that “the river _mingoli_ (water-spirits) were pushing the steamer
along.”
STORY II
_The Fowl and the Hippopotamus; or,
the Cause of the Enmity among Birds and Animals._
A Fowl, on returning from a trading journey, hid one of his legs under
his wing and said: “I sold my leg for two thousand brass rods in the
towns I have been visiting.”
A greedy hippopotamus, hearing this, said: “If the Fowl could receive
two thousand brass rods for his small leg, how much shall I receive for
mine?” So calling some of his friends they entered a canoe and paddled
down-river to the towns. On arriving, the leg of the Hippopotamus was
cut off, carried ashore, and sold for a large number of brass rods.
When the Hippopotami returned to the canoe, after selling the leg, they
discovered that their friend had bled to death, so they picked up their
paddles in great anger and returned to their town.
On arriving at their town they sought out the Fowl and charged him with
the death of their friend, for they said, “Because of your lying
deception he went and sold his leg.”
In their anger they called on the Hawks and Kites to swoop down and
carry off the chickens belonging to the Fowls; and they told the wild
bush-cat that whenever he found the door of the Fowl-house open he was
to creep in and kill the Fowls.
In this way so many Fowls were killed, that in defence the Fowls called
on the Crocodiles to bite the Hippopotami and wound them to death; and
they asked Man whenever he saw a Hippopotamus to hurl his spear at it
and kill it. Thus, through the Fowl’s one deception, enmity, quarrels,
and death were first introduced among the birds and animals.
STORY III
_The Punishment of the Inquisitive Man_
Motu made a large garden, and planted it with many bananas and plantain.
The garden was in a good position, so the fruit ripened quickly and
well. Arriving one day at his garden he found the ripe bunches of
bananas and plantain had been cut off and carried away.
After that he did not go once to his garden without finding that some of
the fruit had been stolen, so at last he made up his mind to watch the
place carefully, and hiding himself he lay in ambush for the thief.
Motu had not been in hiding very long before he saw a number of
Cloud-folk descending, who cut down his bananas, and what they could not
eat they tied into bundles to carry away. Motu rushed out, and, chasing
them, caught one woman whom he took to his house, and after a short time
he married her, and gave her a name which meant Favourite.
Although Favourite had come from the Cloud-land she was very
intelligent, and went about her housework and farming just like an
ordinary woman of the earth. Up to that time neither Motu nor the people
of his village had ever seen a fire. They had always eaten their food
raw, and on cold, windy, rainy days had sat shivering in their houses
because they did not know anything about fire and warmth.
Favourite, however, told some of the Cloud-folk to bring some fire with
them next time they came to visit her, which they did. And then she
taught the people how to cook food, and how to sit round a fire on cold
days.
Motu was very happy with his wife, and the villagers were very glad to
have her among them, and, moreover, Favourite persuaded many of the
Cloud-folk to settle in her husband’s village.
One day Favourite received a covered basket, and putting it on a shelf
in the house she said to her husband, “We are now living with much
friendship together; but while I am away at the farm you must not open
that basket, if you do we shall all leave you.”
“All right,” replied the husband, “I will never undo it.”
Motu was now very glad in his heart, for he had plenty of people, a
clever wife, and the villagers treated him as a great man. But he had
one trouble: Why did his wife warn him every day not to open the basket?
What was in that basket? What was she hiding from him? And foolish-like
he decided to open it. Waiting therefore until his wife had gone as
usual to the farm he opened the basket, and—there was nothing in it, so
laughingly he shut it up and put it in its place.
By and by Favourite returned, and, looking at her husband, she asked
him: Why did you open that basket?” And he was speechless at her
question.
On the first opportunity, while Motu was away hunting, Favourite
gathered her people, and ascended with them to Cloud-land, and never
again returned to the earth.
That is how the earth-folk received their fire and a knowledge of
cooking; and that is also how Motu through being too inquisitive lost
his wife, his people, and his importance as a big man in the village.
STORY IV
_Mbungi and his Punishment_
Mbungi one day said to his wife: “Dig up some cassava, prepare it, and
cut down some plantain, for we will go hunting and fishing.”
The wife did as she was told, and in a short time everything was ready
for the journey. They put their goods into a canoe and paddled away to
their hunting and fishing camp.
After resting, the man went and dug a hole and set his traps; and the
next morning he found an antelope and a bush-pig in the hole. These he
took to the camp, cut up, and gave to his wife to cook. By and by when
all was cooked she brought the meat to her husband, and as she was
taking her portion he said: “Wait, I will ask the forest-folk (or
spirits) if you may eat it.”
He went and pretended to ask the forest-folk, and brought back a message
that if she ate the meat the traps would lose their luck and catch no
more animals. In this way the selfish husband had all the meat for
himself and his wife went hungry.[27] Mbungi found many animals in his
traps, and the woman, because of the prohibition, did not have her share
of them.
Footnote 27:
A person considered he had not made a meal if he had no meat or fish
to eat with his cassava.
One day the woman made some fish-traps and set them, and on her return
to the camp the husband wanted to know where she had been, but she
refused to tell him. Next day she went to look at her traps and found
many fish in them, which she brought to the camp and cooked. Mbungi,
however, returned unsuccessful from his traps; but when he saw his
wife’s fish he laughed and said: “Bring the fish here for me to eat.”
“Wait,” answered the woman, “I will ask the forest-folk if you may eat
the fish.” And she brought back a reply that he was not to eat the fish,
for if he did so the fish-traps would lose their luck.
It was now Mbungi’s turn to be hungry. Days and days passed and he
caught no more animals; but his wife always had plenty of fish. He
became very thin and angry. One day he drew his large knife, and cutting
off the head of his wife he buried the head and the trunk together in
the ground, and departed for his town.
Mbungi had not gone very far on his way when he heard a voice shouting:
“Mbungi, wait for me, we will go together!” He wondered who was calling
him, so he hid himself, and in a little time he saw the head of his wife
coming along the road calling after him.
He went, and catching the head he cut it into small pieces and buried it
again; but before he had gone far he heard it shouting: “Mbungi, wait
for me, we will go together!” He cut and buried it again and again, but
it was no use, it continued to follow and call after him.
Mbungi reached his town, and his wife’s family asked him: “Where is your
wife?” “Oh, she is coming on behind,” he replied. They accused him of
killing her, but this he strongly denied. While he was denying the
charge of murder the head came right into the town; and when the family
saw it they immediately tied up Mbungi and killed him.
This was how murder was first introduced into the world.
STORY V
_Why the Fowl and Dog are abused by the Birds_
There was a time when all the birds and animals lived in the sky. One
day it was very rainy and cold—so cold that they were all shivering. The
birds said to the Dog: “Go down and fetch us some fire to warm
ourselves.”
The Dog descended, but seeing plenty of bones and pieces of fish lying
about on the ground he forgot to take the fire to the shivering birds.
The birds and animals waited, and the Dog not returning they sent the
Fowl to hasten him with the fire.
The Fowl, however, on arriving below, beheld plenty of palm nuts, pea
nuts, maize, and other good things, so he did not tell the Dog to take
up the fire, and did not take any himself.
This is the reason why you can hear of an evening a bird that sings with
notes like this, “_Nsusu akende bombo! nsusu akende bombo!_” which
means, The Fowl has become a slave! the Fowl has become a slave!
And the Heron sometimes sits on a tree near a village and cries, “_Mbwa
owa! mbwa owa!_” = Dog, you die! dog, you die![28]
Footnote 28:
I have often heard these birds, and their notes quickly suggested the
phrases quoted above, and undoubtedly gave rise to the story.
This is why you hear these birds jeer at and abuse the Fowl and Dog,
because they left their friends to shiver in the cold while they enjoyed
themselves in warmth and plenty.
STORY VI
_The Eagle leaves the Tortoise in the lurch_
A Leopard had three young children, and she asked the Tortoise to take
care of them while she was away hunting.
“Very well,” said the Tortoise, “I will nurse them for you.”
So the Leopard went hunting, and after a time she returned with some
meat which she wished to give to her children.
“No, no, do not open the door,” whispered the Tortoise, “your children
are asleep. Throw the meat in at the window.” The meat was passed
through the window, and the Leopard went off hunting again.
While the Leopard was gone the second time, an Eagle came to the
Tortoise and said: “Friend Tortoise, let us make blood-brotherhood.”
The Tortoise agreed, and the friendship was properly made. After a short
time the Eagle asked the Tortoise for one of the children to eat, and
one was taken, and they ate it between them.
By and by the Leopard returned again from the hunt with some more meat;
but the Tortoise pretended that the children were asleep; so the meat
was again put through the window, and off went the Leopard to hunt in
the forest.
The Eagle then came and begged for another child, and receiving it he
went and ate it on a high tree.
When the Leopard returned next time, she insisted on seeing the
children, but the Tortoise said: “You stop there and I will show them to
you at the window.”
The Tortoise then took up the only child left, and holding it at the
window he said, “That is one.” He put it down and held it up again, and
said, “That is two.” Then he showed it again at the window for the third
time, and said, “That is three.” The Leopard, thereupon, went away
satisfied.
The Eagle came again and asked for the “other child to eat.”
“What shall I do,” asked the Tortoise, “when the Leopard returns and
finds all her children are gone?”
“Oh, I will take care of you,” said the Eagle reassuringly; “I will fly
with you to a high tree.” The last child was given and eaten, and then
the Eagle took the Tortoise to the branch of a very high tree.
Shortly after the Eagle had carried off the Tortoise the Leopard
returned, and finding all her children gone she wept very loudly for
some time; then looking about her she saw the Tortoise on the top of a
tree.
The Leopard gnawed at the tree, and just as it was going to fall the
Tortoise called out to his friend, the Eagle, to help him. The Eagle
carried him to another tree. The Leopard gnawed that one; so the Eagle
removed the Tortoise to another high tree; but the Leopard gnawed that
also.
The Tortoise called for his friend, the Eagle; but the Eagle replied: “I
am tired of helping you, take care of yourself,” and off he flew,
leaving his friend in the lurch, and never returned again. The tree
fell, and the Leopard killed the Tortoise. That is why the bush animals
are afraid to hurt the Leopard’s children.
STORY VII
_The Kite breaks his promise to the Tortoise_
When the Tortoise and the Kite made blood-brotherhood the Kite said:
“Friend Tortoise, now that we have become brothers, catch an electric
fish for me.”
“Friend Kite,” replied the Tortoise, “when you see a skin floating on
the river you will know that I have caught the fish you desire. Swoop
down and take it; and, friend Kite, thou art one who lives in the air,
tie up the wind and bring it to me.”
By and by the Tortoise killed an electric fish (_nina_), and set it
floating on the river. When the Kite saw it he said: “Ah, there is the
fish my friend Tortoise has sent me.” He thereupon dropped to the river,
picked up the fish, and carried it away to a high tree, where he ate it.
The Tortoise waited a long time, but the Kite never brought him the
wind; so seeing the Eagle one day fishing by the river bank he said to
him, “Come here, friend Eagle,” and when the Eagle had alighted on a
branch near by, the Tortoise continued: “Well, my friend the Kite and I
made blood-brotherhood, and he asked me to send him an electric fish,
and I asked him to bring me the wind, and he agreed to this bargain. I
have sent him his fish, but he has not brought me the wind. When you see
the Kite remind him of his promise.”
The Eagle met the Kite next day on the top of a tree and said to him:
“When you make blood-brotherhood with a person you should keep your
promise to him. Why don’t you take the wind to the Tortoise?”
“I have not yet tied it up,” said the Kite as he flew off.
The Tortoise waited, but the Kite not coming he went ashore, climbed to
the roof of a house, and tied himself into a bundle like a parcel of
fish.
The Kite, seeing the bundle and thinking it was some fish, he swooped
down on it and carried it away to a tree, and while he was undoing the
bundle the Tortoise said: “Friend Kite, you have deceived me, and you
have broken your promise. Where is the wind you agreed to bring to me?”
The Kite was so alarmed that he dropped the Tortoise and flew away. And
because of his broken promise to his friend he has lost the power to
sail on the wind like the Eagle; but has to constantly flutter and flap
his wings.[29]
Footnote 29:
To break a promise made at the time of making blood-brotherhood is
considered very bad, and is regarded as certain to bring punishment.
STORY VIII
_Why the Plantain-eater did not build a Nest_
The Plantain-eater is a gaudy-plumaged bird, not quite so large as a
Cockatoo. It is called by the natives _Lukulukoko_. Its notes are,
_Kulu!_ _kulu!_ _kulukoko!_ hence the natives say, “It is always talking
about itself.”
All the birds built nests so that when it rained they could enter them
and remain dry. The Plantain-eater, however, never troubled to build a
nest, but when the rain fell in torrents he went to a neighbour and
said: “Let me come into your nest out of the rain.”
But his neighbour answered him: “No, go and cut some palm fronds and
build your own nest.”
The Plantain-eater, at this reply, went off crying: “_Kulu!_ _kulu!_
_kulukoko!_ Wait until the rain stops, and then I will fetch fronds to
build my nest.”
By and by the rain ceased and the neighbours called out:
“Plantain-eater, the rain is finished, now get your fronds for nest
building.”
But the Plantain-eater said: “I will stop where I am, and when it rains
I will raise my shoulders and put my head under my feathers, and the
rain will not hurt me.”
The next time it rained, however, he found it was very unpleasant to be
out in it; and again he asked to be allowed to enter a neighbour’s nest,
but he was driven off. Thus it always happened that when it rained he
intended to build a house; and when it was fine he said he did not need
a house, but would put his head under his feathers.
And that is why the Plantain-eater is seen jumping from branch to branch
in the rain, trying to enter other people’s nests, making all kinds of
promises in the rain, and only talking loudly and boasting in the fine
weather of what he will do.
STORY IX
_Why the Water-snake has no Poison_
When the Python had given birth to all the snakes she said to them: “You
have no poison now, but another day I will call you, and give to each of
you a proper share of poison.”
After a time the day arrived, and the Python called all her children to
receive the promised gift. The green snake, the viper, the whip-snake,
the diamond-headed snake all arrived, and each received his share of the
poison so as to defend himself from his enemies. Wherever these snakes
went on a journey everybody jumped out of their way, for if they did not
they were bitten and suffered much pain.
The Water-snake, however, instead of obeying his mother’s call, went off
to the river to fish. By and by he became tired of fishing, and thought
he would go and hear what his mother the Python wanted.
As he went he met the other snakes returning, and heard that they had
received their gifts from their mother. On his arrival he asked her for
his share of the poison.
But the Python said: “No, I called you, and instead of coming you went
fishing, so now you have lost your share of the poison through
disobedience.”
That is why the Water-snake is only laughed at when he bites, and no one
thinks of moving out of his way, for he has no poison through
disregarding his mother’s call.
STORY X
_How the Squirrel outwitted the Elephant_
The Squirrel and the Elephant met one day in the forest and had a big
discussion about forest matters. At last the Elephant sneeringly said:
“You are a Squirrel, you are only a little bit of a thing. Can you hold
either my foot or my leg? No, you are too small to touch even one of my
legs!”
“You may be a big thing,” retorted the Squirrel, “but can you keep on
eating palm nuts as long as I can?”
After much talk they decided to collect bunches of palm nuts, and when
all was ready they sat down to the eating contest. Before beginning,
however, the Squirrel had secreted a number of his friends in the forest
near by.
The Elephant began the contest by putting a bunch of palm nuts into his
mouth; but the Squirrel took the nuts one by one and ate them. And when
the Squirrel was full he made some excuse and slipped away, and another
squirrel took his place. In this way Squirrel after Squirrel exchanged
places with each other unnoticed by the Elephant, who continued to eat
all the morning, and the big pile of palm nuts grew smaller and smaller.
At last the Elephant asked: “Are you full, friend Squirrel?”
“No,” answered the last Squirrel, “I feel as though I had only just
begun.”
“Is that so?” grunted the Elephant. “Well, you are a wonderful little
thing. Why, I am getting fuller and fuller.”
After that they went on eating again.
In the afternoon the Elephant asked again: “Friend Squirrel, are you
full yet?”
“No,” replied the last Squirrel, “I have not eaten half enough yet.” And
he took up some more nuts to eat.
The Elephant had not room for more than a sigh; and towards sunset he
said: “I am full, and cannot eat any more palm nuts.”
Thus the Elephant confessed he was beaten, and ever after that he
refrained from annoying and ridiculing his friends and neighbours
because they were smaller than himself.
* * * * *
The natives are very careful not to taunt slaves about their condition,
or to twit a person about poverty or lowly birth. It is considered to be
the acme of rudeness to remind another that he is not so fine a fellow
as you are, or as he thinks he is. Of course, folk often lost their
temper and said bitter things to each other. The following story shows
the punishment that fell to a man because in his anger he was rude to
his slave wife.
STORY XI
_Rudeness and its Punishment_
There was a man once who built a house on an island and went fishing in
its creeks and pools. He plaited a large number of fish-traps, and set
them in good places for catching fish.
One morning he went to look at the traps and found one full of fish, and
among the fish was a Lolembe.[30] He took them to his house, and then
went to another part of the island to visit some other traps; but on his
return he found some food cooked and placed in a saucepan by the fire.
In his surprise he called out, “Who has cooked this food?” but there was
no answer. All night he pondered this wonder in his heart, for he knew
he was alone on the island.
Footnote 30:
_Notopterus afer._
The next morning he pretended to go to his traps, but turning back
quickly he hid himself behind his house and watched through an opening
in the wall. By and by he was amazed to see the Lolembe turn into a
woman, who at once began to cook the food, whereupon the man showed
himself to her and said: “Oh, you are the one who cooked my food
yesterday!”
“Yes,” she replied. They were married, and in due time the woman gave
birth to two boys and a girl; and they lived with much contentment on
the island.
One day the man said to one of his sons: “You come and help me with the
fish-traps,” and away they went together to look at the various traps.
The lad was a lazy, disobedient boy who would not listen properly to
what was told him, so when the father wanted to empty the water out of
the canoe and told him to go to the right side, the boy went straight to
the left side, because it was nearer to him than the other side. The
father became very vexed, and beating him in his anger, he said: “You
are too lazy and too proud to do what you are told. Do you know that
your mother came out of one of these fish-traps, for she was only a
Lolembe?”
The boy on hearing this went crying to his mother, and told her all his
father had said. The mother soothed him, but in her heart she said: “My
husband jeers at me because I am only a Lolembe, yet I have been a good
wife to him; perhaps some other day he will call me worse names, and
when we return to the town everybody will know that I came out of one of
his fish-traps. I will return to my own place in the river.”
She thereupon fell into the river, and changing into a Lolembe she swam
away. “Therefore,” says the native storyteller, “never taunt a person
with being a slave.”
* * * * *
The next two stories are illustrative of the native reason for the loss
of eternal life, or why people die, instead of continuing to live for
ever on the earth.
STORY XII
_Nkengo fails to obtain lasting life_
Nkengo was the son of Libuta, and he noticed that the people were dying
daily in great numbers. So one day he called out loudly: “You
Cloud-folk, throw me down a rope!”
The Cloud-folk heard and threw him a rope. Nkengo held on to it and was
pulled up to the Cloud-land.
When he arrived there Nkengo had to wait one day, and in the morning the
Cloud-folk said to him: “You have come here to receive lasting life
(_lobiku_) and escape from death. You cannot make your request for seven
days, and in the meantime you must not go to sleep.”
Nkengo was able to keep awake for six days, but on the seventh day he
nodded and went to sleep. The Cloud-folk woke him up, saying: “You came
here to receive lasting life and escape from death. You were able to
keep awake six days. Why did you abandon your purpose on the seventh
day?” They were so angry with him that they drove him out of Cloud-land
and lowered him to the earth.
The people on the earth asked him what had happened up above, and Nkengo
replied: “When I reached Cloud-land they told me that in order to gain
lasting life I must keep awake for seven days. I did not sleep for six
days and six nights; but on the seventh day I nodded in sleep; whereupon
they drove me out, saying: “Get away with your dying; you shall not
receive lasting life, for every day there shall be death among you!”
His friends laughed at him because he went to receive lasting life and
lost it through sleeping. That is the reason why death continues in the
world.
* * * * *
The following story also gives the reason for the continuance of death
in the world. It was told me by a friend who lived for many years among
the Balolo tribe at Bolengi (Equatorville district), about fifty or
sixty miles below Monsembe.
STORY XIII
_The Two Bundles_
While a man was working one day in the forest a little man with two
bundles—one large and one small—went to him and asked: “Which of these
two bundles will you have? This one” (taking up the large bundle)
“contains looking-glasses, knives, beads, cloth, etc.; and this one”
(taking up the little bundle) “contains lasting life.”
“I cannot choose by myself,” answered the man; “I must go and ask the
other people in the town.”
While he was gone to ask the other people some women arrived, and the
choice was put to them. The women tried the edges of the knives,
bedecked themselves in the cloth, admired themselves in the
looking-glasses, and without more ado they selected the big bundle and
took it away. The little man, picking up the small bundle, vanished.
On the return of the man from the town both the little man and his
bundles had disappeared. The women exhibited and shared the things, but
death continued on the earth. Hence the people say: “Oh, if those women
had only chosen the small bundle, we folk would not be dying like this!”
STORY XIV
_The Spider regrets her Marriage_
There was a Spider who lived with her parents in their town. She was
unmarried, and it was very difficult to find a husband for her as she
was so hard to please.
One young man asked her father for her in marriage, but he said: “You
must ask her yourself.” And when he said to her: “I love you. Will you
be my wife?” she replied, “No,” in such a way that he went back to his
house very angry.
Another young man came, and she said: “I refuse all husbands, for I am
going to remain as I am.”
After a time another suitor came, and when the Spider declined him he
said: “You refuse all offers of marriage from us; but a person will come
who will not be a proper person at all, for he will have changed himself
to look like a nice man. You will marry him, and you will have much
trouble on going with him, for he will take you to his country, which
will be far away, and you will regret that you have refused all of us.”
“Be quiet!” she shouted; “you are angry because I will not marry you,
and that is why you threaten me.”
“Very well,” said he, “you think I am telling you a lie,” and away he
went to his town. Now this was the Python who spoke to the girl.
The Python waited in his town for some time, and then he changed himself
into another and nicer form and paid a visit to the Spider, and said to
her: “Spider, I have come to marry you.”
The Spider asked him: “Do you love me or not?”
He answered her: “I love you,” and they were married.
After a time he said: “Spider, we must return to my town.” And he
deceitfully told her that he lived in a fine town, and was very rich. He
also promised his father-in-law that he would return in six months—a
promise he never intended to keep.
The Spider and her husband started on their journey, and went on and on
and on for two months, and the wife became very tired with the long
walk.
As they were nearing their town a person said to her: “The one who is
travelling with you is not a real person, but a snake that has changed
itself to look like a person. Do not believe in him.”
They reached the husband’s town, which she found was simply a tree with
a large hole in it. The husband changed back to his snake form, and
coiling himself up in the hole he left his wife to do the best she could
outside.
The Spider was very angry, and repented having been so stupid as to
refuse all the nice young men of her own town to be deceived by this
snake from a distance. The poor Spider became very thin and would have
died, only someone helped her back to her father.
* * * * *
The custom of making blood-brotherhood was very common on the Upper
Congo. The ceremony has already been described in a previous chapter,
and therefore it is not necessary to go again into detail. During the
performance of the rite the contracting parties who exhibited any doubt
of each other’s faithfulness in properly observing the bond would put
one another under a prohibition or taboo, and so long as they carefully
obeyed the prohibition the blood bond remained in force.
In the following story the birds enter into this blood bond, and the
peculiarities of each are regarded as prohibitions placed on them during
the ceremony. There are many such stories accounting for the physical
idiosyncrasies of various birds and animals.
STORY XV
_The Heron and the Parrot are unbelieving_
When the Heron and the Parrot entered into the bonds of
blood-brotherhood the Heron put the Parrot under a ban, saying: “Friend
Parrot, you must always remain in the tree-tops, and never alight on the
ground. If you do so you will not be able to fly again, for you will be
caught, killed, and eaten; and even if you are not killed the folk who
catch you will tame you, and you will lose your power to fly again in
the air.”
The Parrot said: “Friend Heron, you must never build a house to sleep in
it; if you do you will die.”
After some time the Heron began to doubt the words of the Parrot, and he
said to himself: “Perhaps my friend told me a lie about sleeping in a
house. I will test his words, and if I die my family will know that the
words of the Parrot are true, and they will never sleep in a house.”
That evening the Heron entered a house (nest), and next morning his
family found him lying dead. Ever since that time the Herons have always
slept on the branches of the trees.
The Parrot also doubted the power of the Heron’s prohibition, and said
to himself: “I will alight on the ground, and if I am unable to fly
again my family will know the Heron’s words are true ones.”
So down the Parrot flew, and alighting on the ground he found there
plenty to eat, but when he tried to rise again he was not able to use
his wings. Some people caught him and tamed him, and he remained a slave
in their town.
That is the reason why the Parrots always fly high above the tree-tops
and never alight on the earth, because of the prohibition of their
friend the Heron.
* * * * *
The writer has many more of these stories, but the above are fairly
typical of the lines upon which they run, although every story has its
own little plot and exhibits some characteristic trait of native mind
and habit.
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