The Batoana.—Government.—Eloquence.—Language.—Mythology.—
Religion.—Superstition.—The Rain-maker.—Polygamy.—Circumcision.—
Burial.—Disposition of the Bechuanas.—Thievish Propensities.—
Dress.—Great Snuff-takers.—Smoking.—Occupations.—Agriculture.—
Commerce.—Hunting and Fishing.
The people who dwell on the shores of the Lake are, as before said,
called Batoana,[87] under the rule of Lecholètébè. They are a small tribe
of that large family of “blacks” known as Bechuanas, who, as a whole,
are probably the most widely distributed and the most powerful of all the
dark-colored nations in Southern Africa. The Batoana have not been long
dwellers in the Lake regions; they came as conquerors under Lecholètébè’s
father. Having dispossessed the aborigines, they reduced them to a state
of slavery, giving them a name corresponding to their condition, viz.,
_Bakoba_ or _Makoba_, that is, “serfs.” These people, however, style
themselves Bayeye, or “Men;” and by that appellation I shall hereafter
call them.
In giving a general description of the manners and customs, religious
rites, superstitions, &c., of the Bechuanas—the parent stock, as shown,
of the Batoanas—I shall also have described those of the latter tribe;
for, though they may differ in some respects, they agree in the main.
“The government of the people is at once both monarchical and
patriarchal, and comparatively mild in its character. Each tribe has
its chief or king, who commonly resides in the largest town, and is
held sacred from his hereditary right to that office. A tribe generally
includes a number of towns or villages, each having its distinct head,
under whom there are a number of subordinate chiefs. These constitute
the aristocracy of the nation, and all acknowledge the supremacy of
the principal one. His power, though very great, and in some instances
despotic, is, nevertheless, controlled by the senior chiefs, who, in
their _pichos_ or _pitshos_ (their Parliament or public meetings),
use the greatest plainness of speech in exposing what they consider
culpable or lax in his government. An able speaker will sometimes turn
the scale even against the king.... These assemblies keep up a tolerable
equilibrium of power between the chiefs and their king; but they are only
convened when it is necessary to adjust differences between tribes—when
a predatory expedition is to be undertaken—or when the removal of a
tribe is contemplated, though occasionally matters of less moment are
introduced.”[88]
[Illustration: THE BECHUANA PICHO.]
The language used by the natives on public occasions, and more especially
by the chiefs, is often powerful, eloquent, shrewd, and fluent, and would
do honor to the best educated European. Take the following speech as an
example, which contains the address of the famous Basuto king, Mosheshe,
to his people, when congratulating them on the happy event of having
received three worthy missionaries among them:
“Rejoice, you Makare and Mokatchani! you rulers of cities, rejoice! We
have all reason to rejoice on account of the news we have heard. There
are a great many sayings among men. Among them some are true and some are
false; but the false have remained with us and multiplied; therefore we
ought to pick up carefully the truths we hear, lest they should be lost
in the rubbish of lies. We are told that we have all been created by one
Being, and that we all spring from one man. Sin entered man’s heart when
he ate the forbidden fruit, and we have got sin from him. These men say
that they have sinned; and what is sin in them is sin in us, because we
come from one stock, and their hearts and ours are one thing. Ye Makare
have heard these words, and you say they are lies. If these words do not
conquer, the fault will lie with you. You say you will not believe what
you do not understand. Look at an egg! If a man break it, there comes
only a watery and yellow substance out of it; but if it be placed under
the wing of a fowl, a living thing comes from it. Who can understand
this? Who ever knew how the heat of the hen produced the chicken in the
egg? This is incomprehensible to us, yet we do not deny the fact. Let us
do like the hen. Let us place these truths in our hearts as the hen does
the eggs under her wings; let us sit upon them, and take the same pains,
and something new will come of them.”
The language of the Bechuanas (the plural of Mochuana, a single
individual) is called Sichuana, an adjective implying any thing belonging
to the nation. It is exceedingly soft and mellifluous, owing to there
being few syllables that end with a consonant. The only exceptions are
“nouns in the ablative case, plural verbs, verbs definite, and the
interrogatives _why_, _how_, and _what_, all of which end with the
ringing n.”
The first acquaintance of Europeans with the Bechuanas dates from an
early period of the history of the Cape Colony. There is reason to
believe that this nation once extended as far as the Orange River, but at
the present day none of the tribes are found beyond the 28th parallel of
south latitude.
The Bechuanas (as already mentioned in the history of the Damaras)
believe that they originally sprang from a cave, said to exist in the
Bakone country, where the footmarks of the first man may still be seen in
the rock.
If we are to credit the testimony of some missionaries, the Bechuanas
have no notion of a Superior Being. It is a strong argument in favor
of this hypothesis that no word in their language properly denotes God.
Speaking of these people, Mr. Moffat says: “I have often wished to find
something by which I could lay hold on the minds of the natives; an
‘altar to the unknown God,’ the faith of their ancestors, the immortality
of the soul, or any religious association; but nothing of this kind ever
floated in their minds. ‘They looked on the sun with the eyes of an ox.’
To tell the greatest of them that there was a Creator, the Governor
of the heavens and earth—of the fall of man, or the redemption of the
world—the resurrection of the dead, and immortality beyond the grave,
was to tell them what appeared to be more fabulous, extravagant, and
ludicrous than their own vain stories about lions, hyænas, and jackals.
To tell them that these (referring, of course, to the different elements
of our creed) were articles of our faith would extort an interjection
of superlative surprise, as if they were too preposterous for the most
foolish to believe.”
“‘What is the difference?’ said a native one day to the writer just
quoted, pointing to his dog, ‘between me and that animal? You say I am
immortal, and why not my dog or my ox? They die; and do you see their
souls? What is the difference between man and beast? None, except that
man is the greater rogue of the two!’
“They could not see that there was any thing in our customs more
agreeable to flesh and blood than in their own, but would, at the same
time, admit that we were a wiser and a superior race of beings to
themselves. For this superiority, some of their wise heads would try to
account; but this they could only do on the ground of our own statement,
that God made man.
“A wily fellow, who was the oracle of the village in which he dwelt, once
remarked, after hearing me enlarge on the subject of creation, ‘If you
verily believe that one Being created all men, then, according to reason,
you must also believe that, in making white people, he had improved on
his work. He tried his hand on Bushmen first, and he did not like them,
because they were so ugly, and their language like that of frogs. He then
tried his hand on the Hottentots; but these did not please him either.
He then exercised his power and skill, and made the Bechuanas, which was
a great improvement; and at last he made the white people. Therefore,’
exulting with an air of triumph at the discovery, ‘the white people are
so much wiser than we are in making walking houses (wagons), teaching the
oxen to draw them over hill and dale, and instructing them also to plow
the gardens, instead of making their wives do it, like the Bechuanas.’”
Dealers in the black art are numerous among the Bechuanas, who place the
most implicit confidence in the sayings and prescriptions of the wizards.
This applies more especially to those persons who devote themselves to
the study of “rain-making.”
The rain-maker possesses an influence over the minds of the people
superior even to that of their king, who is likewise compelled to yield
to the dictates of these “arch-officials.” They are, in general, men
of natural talent and ingenuity. Indeed, it is probable that, in the
full consciousness of their superiority, they are emboldened to lay the
public mind prostrate before their mysteries. Being, moreover, usually
foreigners, they take good care to magnify prodigiously their feats
abroad. Each tribe has one rain-maker, and sometimes more. The wizards
are also doctors; and, at times, they assume the office of sextons by
superintending the disposal of the dead, it being generally believed that
the ceremonies practiced by these impostors have some influence over the
watery treasures floating in the skies. It not unfrequently happens that
the rain-maker prohibits the usual form of interment, and perhaps orders
the dead to be dragged to a distance to be devoured by beasts of prey.
Mr. Moffat, in his “Missionary Labors and Scenes in Southern Africa,”
has given at some length a very striking account of one of these
rain-makers, which amply illustrates the immense influence exercised by
them over the ignorant and superstitious mind, as also the craft and
ingenuity of the men themselves, in order to effect their purpose. It is
in substance as follows:
Having for a number of years experienced severe droughts, the Bechuanas
at Kuruman held a council as to the best measures for removing the evil.
After some debate, a resolution was passed to send for a rain-maker
of great renown, then staying among the Bahurutsi, two hundred miles
N.E. of the station. Accordingly, commissioners were dispatched, with
strict injunctions not to return without the man; but it was with some
misgivings as to the success of their mission that the men started.
However, by large promises, they succeeded beyond their most sanguine
expectations.
During the absence of the embassadors the heavens had been as brass, and
scarcely a passing cloud obscured the sky, which blazed with the dazzling
rays of a vertical sun. But, strange to relate, the very day that the
approach of the rain-maker was announced, the clouds began to gather
thickly, the lightning darted, and the thunder rolled in awful grandeur,
accompanied by a few drops of rain. The deluded multitude were wild with
delight; they rent the sky with their acclamations of joy, and the earth
rang with their exulting and maddening shouts. Previously to entering the
town, the rain-maker sent a peremptory order to all the inhabitants to
wash their feet. Scarcely was the message delivered before every soul,
young and old, noble and ignoble, flew to the adjoining river to obey the
command of the man who they imagined was now collecting in the heavens
all his stores of rain.
The impostor proclaimed aloud that this year the women must cultivate
gardens on the hills and not in the valleys, for the latter would be
deluged. The natives, in their enthusiasm, saw already their corn-fields
floating in the breeze, and their flocks and herds return lowing homeward
by noonday from the abundance of pasture. He told them how, in his wrath,
he had desolated the cities of the enemies of his people by stretching
forth his hand and commanding the clouds to burst upon them; how he had
arrested the progress of n powerful army by causing a flood to descend,
which formed a mighty river, and stayed their course. These, and many
other pretended displays of his power, were received as sober truths, and
the chief and the nobles gazed on him with silent amazement The report of
his fame spread like wildfire, and the rulers of the neighboring tribes
came to pay him homage.
In order to carry on the fraud, he would, when clouds appeared, command
the women neither to plant nor sow, lest the seeds should be washed
away. He would also require them to go to the fields, and gather certain
roots and herbs, with which he might light what appeared to the natives
mysterious fires. Elate with hope, they would go in crowds to the hills
and valleys, collect herbs, return to the town with songs, and lay
their gatherings at the magician’s feet. With these he would sometimes
proceed to certain hills, and raise smoke; gladly would he have called
up the wind also, if he could have done so, well knowing that the latter
is frequently the precursor of rain. He would select the time of new
and full moon for his purpose, aware that at those seasons there was
frequently a change in the atmosphere. But the rain-maker found the
clouds in these parts rather harder to manage than those of the Bahurutsi
country, whence he came.
One day, as he was sound asleep, a shower fell, on which one of the
principal men entered his house to congratulate him on the happy event;
but, to his utter amazement, he found the magician totally insensible to
what was transpiring. “Hela ka rare! (halloo, by my father!) I thought
you were making rain,” said the intruder. Arising from his slumber,
and-seeing his wife sitting on the floor, shaking a milk-sack in order to
obtain a little butter to anoint her hair, the wily rain-maker adroitly
replied, “Do you not see my wife churning rain as fast as she can?” This
ready answer gave entire satisfaction; and it presently spread through
the length and breadth of the town that the rain-maker had churned the
shower out of a milk-sack.
The moisture, however, caused by this shower soon dried up, and for many
a long week afterward not a cloud appeared. The women had cultivated
extensive fields, but the seed was lying in the soil as it had been
thrown from the hand; the cattle were dying from want of pasture, and
hundreds of emaciated men were seen going to the fields in quest of
unwholesome roots and reptiles, while others were perishing with hunger.
All these circumstances irritated the rain-maker very much, and he
complained that secret rogues were disobeying his proclamations. When
urged to make repeated trials, he would reply, “You only give me sheep
and goats to kill, therefore I can only make goat-rain; give me fat
slaughter oxen, and I shall let you see ox-rain.”
One night a small cloud passed over, and a single flash of lightning,
from which a heavy peal of thunder burst, struck a tree in the town. Next
day the rain-maker and a number of people assembled to perform the usual
ceremony on such an event. The stricken tree was ascended, and roots and
ropes of grass were bound round different parts of the trunk. When these
bandages were made, the conjuror deposited some of his nostrums, and got
quantities of water handed up, which he poured with great solemnity on
the wounded tree, while the assembled multitude shouted “Pùla! pùla!”
The tree was now hewn down, dragged out of the town, and burned to
ashes. Soon after, the rain-maker got large bowls of water, with which
was mingled an infusion of bulbs. All the men of the town were then made
to pass before him, when he sprinkled each person with a zebra’s tail
clipped in water.
Finding that this did not produce the desired effect, the impostor had
recourse to another stratagem. He well knew that baboons were not very
easily caught among rocky glens and shelving precipices, and, therefore,
in order to gain time, he informed the men that, to make rain, he
must have a baboon; moreover, that not a hair on his body was to be
wanting; in short, the animal should be free from blemish. After a long
and severe pursuit, and with bodies much lacerated, a band of chosen
runners succeeded in capturing a young baboon, which they brought back
triumphantly and exultingly. On seeing the animal, the rogue put on a
countenance exhibiting the most intense sorrow, exclaiming, “My heart is
rent in pieces! I am dumb with grief!” Pointing, at the same time, to the
ear of the baboon, that was slightly scratched, and the tail, which had
lost some hair, he added, “Did I not tell you I could not bring rain if
there was one hair wanting?”
He had often said that, if they could procure him the heart of a lion,
he would show them he could make rain so abundant that a man might think
himself well off to be under shelter, as when it fell it might sweep
whole towns away. He had discovered that the clouds required strong
medicines, and that a lion’s heart would do the business. To obtain this,
the rain-maker well knew, was no joke. One day it was announced that a
lion had attacked one of the cattle outposts not far from the town, and
a party set off for the twofold purpose of getting a key to the clouds
and disposing of a dangerous enemy. The orders were imperative, whatever
the consequences might be. Fortunately, the lion was shot dead by a
man armed with a gun. Greatly elated by their success, they forthwith
returned with their prize, singing the conqueror’s song in full chorus.
The rain-maker at once set about preparing his medicines, kindled his
fires, and, standing on the top of a hill, he stretched forth his hands,
beckoning to the clouds to draw near, occasionally shaking his spear,
and threatening them with his ire should they disobey his commands. The
populace believed all this, and wondered the rain would not fall.
Having discovered that a corpse which had been put into the ground some
weeks before had not received enough water at its burial, and knowing
the aversion of the Bechuanas to a dead body, he ordered the corpse to
be taken up, washed, and re-interred. Contrary to his expectation, and
horrible as the ceremony must have been, it was performed. Still the
heavens remained inexorable.
Having exhausted his skill and ingenuity, the impostor began to be
sorely puzzled to find something on which to lay the blame. Like all
of his profession, he was a subtle fellow, in the habit of studying
human nature, affable, acute, and exhibiting a dignity of mien, with an
ample share of self-complacency, which he could not hide. Hitherto, he
had studiously avoided giving the least offense to the missionaries,
who he found were men of peace, who would not quarrel. He frequently
condescended to visit them, and in the course of conversation would often
give a feeble assent to their opinion as to the sources of that element
over which he pretended to have sovereign control. However, finding all
his wiles unavailing to produce the desired result, and notwithstanding
the many proofs of kindness he had received from the missionaries, he
began to hint that the reverend gentlemen were the cause of the obstinacy
of the clouds! One day it was discovered that the rain had been prevented
by Mr. Moffat bringing a bag of salt with him from a journey that he had
undertaken to Griqua-town. But finding, on examination, that the reported
salt was only white clay or chalk, the natives could not help laughing at
their own credulity.
From insinuations he proceeded to open accusations. After having kept
himself secluded for a fortnight, he one day appeared in the public fold
and proclaimed that he had at last discovered the cause of the drought.
After keeping the audience in suspense for a short time, he suddenly
broke forth, “Do you not see,” he asked, “when clouds cover us, that
Hamilton and Moffat looked at them? Their white faces scare them away,
and you can not expect rain so long as they are in the country.” This
was a home stroke. The people became impatient, and poured forth their
curses against the poor missionaries as the cause of all their sorrows.
The bell, which was rung for public worship, they said, frightened the
vapors; the prayers even came in for a share of the blame. “Don’t you,”
said the chief one day rather fiercely to Mr. Moffat, “bow down in your
houses, and pray and talk to something bad in the ground?”
But to shorten a long story: after exposing the missionaries to much risk
and danger by his insinuations and accusations, the tables were turned in
their favor. The rain-maker was now suspected; his gross impositions were
unveiled, and he was about to pay the penalty of death—the well-merited
reward for his scandalous conduct—when Mr. Moffat generously interfered,
and, through his presence of mind and humanity, succeeded in saving the
life of one who had so often threatened his own, and who would not have
scrupled to take it, could he thereby have served his purpose. Death,
however, soon overtook him, for he was eventually murdered among the
Bauangketsi nation.
Mr. Moffat concludes his remarks on the career of this notable rain-maker
by the following observation:
“It is a remarkable fact that a rain-maker never dies a natural death.
I have known some, and heard of many, who had, by one means or other,
fallen a prey to the fury of their disappointed employers; but,
notwithstanding this, there was no want of successors. There is not one
tribe whose people have not imbrued their hands in the blood of these
impostors, whom they first adore, then curse, and lastly destroy.”
Polygamy exists to an almost unlimited extent. A man may have as many
wives as he chooses, provided he can pay for such privilege the usual
fees, which vary according to the wealth of the husband.
Like the Damaras, the Bechuanas practice circumcision. From an early age
upward, even to manhood, the males are circumcised. Children, however,
born of parents previously to their having been operated upon, can not
inherit regal power. The ceremony being performed, the youth is anointed,
and at once assumes the character, air, and dress of a man. He is also
considered fit to carry arms.
The females have also their “religious” festival about the same age as
the boys, and, for a certain period, are under the tuition of matrons,
who indoctrinate them in all the duties of wives—passive obedience being
especially inculcated. As a last ordeal, they are made to carry a piece
of heated iron, in order to show that their hands are fit for labor.
They are then lubricated with grease; the lower part of their hair is
shaven off, and the remainder profusely bedaubed with a paste of butter
and sebilo (dark, shining ochre). They now adopt the usual female dress.
“Raised thus from comparative infancy to what they consider womanhood,
they view themselves with as much complacency as if they were enrobed
in the attire of a daughter of an Eastern potentate. They have reached
nearly to a climax in their life, for they expect soon to be married; to
be a mother they consider the chief end of a woman’s existence.”
The Bechuanas generally bury their dead. The ceremony of interment, &c.,
varies in different localities, and is influenced by the rank of the
deceased; but the following is a fair specimen of the way in which these
obsequies are managed.
On the approaching dissolution of a man, a skin or net is thrown over
the body, which is held in a sitting posture, with the knees doubled
up under the chin, until life is extinct. A grave is then dug—very
frequently in the cattle-fold—six feet in depth, and about three in
width, the interior being rubbed over with a certain large bulb. The
body, having the head covered, is then conveyed through a hole made for
the purpose in the house and the surrounding fence, and deposited in the
grave in a sitting position, care being taken to put the face of the
corpse against the north. “Portions of an ant-hill are placed about the
feet, when the net which held the body is gradually withdrawn. As the
grave is filled up, the earth is handed in with bowls, while two men
stand in the hole to tread it down round the body, great care being taken
to pick out every thing like a root or pebble. When the earth reaches the
height of the mouth, a small twig or branch of an acacia is thrown in,
and on the top of the head a few roots of grass are placed. The grave
being nearly filled, another root of grass is fixed immediately over
the head, part of which stands above ground. When this portion of the
ceremony is over, the men and women stoop, and with their hands scrape on
to the little mound the loose soil lying about. A large bowl of water,
with an infusion of bulbs, is now brought, when the men and women wash
their hands and the upper part of their feet, shouting ‘Pùla! pùla!’
(Rain! rain!) An old woman, probably a relative, will then bring the
weapons of the deceased (bow, arrows, war-axe, and spears); also grain
and garden-seeds of various kinds; and even the bone of an old pack-ox,
with other things. They finally address the grave, saying, ‘These are all
your articles.’ The things are then taken away, and bowls of water are
poured on the grave, when all retire, the women wailing ‘Yo! yo! yo!’
with some doleful dirge, sorrowing without hope.”
“The ancients were of opinion that the face was always the index of
the mind. Modern physiognomists have gone a step farther, pretending
that a fine form, perfect in all its parts, can not contain a crooked
or an imperfect mind.” Judging the mind of a Bechuana by such a rule,
it would not be pronounced deficient in talent. Nor is it. But, though
the Bechuanas are a very superior race of men, they frequently conceal
cunning and duplicity under an open and dignified exterior. Any act,
no matter how disgraceful, if attended with success, will make them
perfectly happy. “The Bechuana character is frank and sociable, which,
however, does not appear to rise from benevolence of disposition, so
much as from a degree of etiquette, and habits arising from relationship
and docility.” Like most barbarians, their political wisdom consists in
duplicity and petty cunning, and their ordinary wars are merely predatory
incursions upon weaker neighbors for the purpose of carrying off cattle
with as little exposure as possible of their own lives.
They are exceedingly vindictive and revengeful; but if the injured party
be propitiated with gifts, and the enemy acknowledge the error of his
doings, apparent cordiality and unanimity generally succeed to the most
inveterate hatred.
From the king to the slave, theft is a prevailing vice with the
Bechuanas, and, from what I have seen of them, I am confident that the
wealthiest and the most exalted among them would not hesitate to steal
the shirt off one’s back, could he effect it without being compromised.
Their pilfering habits know no bounds, and they carry on the game with
much dexterity. When grouped about our camp-fires I have known them to
abstract the tools with which we have been working; nay, indeed, the very
knives and forks from our plates. Once they actually took the meat out of
the pot as it was boiling on the fire, substituting a stone! They will
place their feet over any small article lying on the ground, burying it
in the sand with their toes, and, if unable to carry it away at the time,
they return to fetch it at a more convenient period.
I have suffered cruelly from their thievish propensities. When at the
Lake they deprived me of almost the whole of my wardrobe, besides
numerous other articles. Not liking to make a disturbance, and knowing
the uselessness of complaining, I bore my misfortunes for a time with
patience; but there is a limit to every thing. Finding, one morning, that
a bag containing no less than forty pounds of shot (a most invaluable
treasure to me) had disappeared in a mysterious manner, I could no longer
restrain my rage. We tracked the thief to the water, but here, of course,
all our efforts to follow him farther were frustrated. I then proceeded
direct to the chief, and represented to him, in the strongest colors,
the abominable conduct of his people, who robbed me with impunity under
his very eyes, adding that their behavior was the more flagitious, as
I had loaded both him and his men with presents, and treated them with
undeviating kindness. To my astonishment and disgust, he laughed outright
in my face, and told me that he could not control his men in this
respect. Indeed, his own relations would play him the same trick.
“So much the more disgraceful to you,” I remarked, adding that he
might rest assured I would take good care to tell my countrymen of the
villainous conduct of the people at Lake Ngami.
“Well,” he replied, “I really can not assist you in this matter, but will
give you wholesome advice, and my authority for acting on it; that is, to
hang on the nearest tree the first man you catch stealing.”
He said this with so much coolness, indifference, and good-humor, that I
could not, vexed as I was, refrain from smiling; and, half reconciled,
I turned away from him, exclaiming, “Well, Lecholètébè, you are an
incurable rogue!”
That the people really did purloin articles from their own chief I had an
instance when at the Lake. Entering a trader’s hut one day, I observed
some beautiful hippopotamus teeth, and on inquiring how he had become
possessed of them, he replied, “Why, Lecholètébè has just asked the same
question. They were stolen from the chief by his own uncle this very
morning, who sold them to me as his individual property not above half an
hour ago.”
The attire of the Bechuanas is scanty enough. Those, however, who have
had much intercourse with Europeans begin to adopt their mode of dress;
but the women, contrary to custom, are very tenacious of their peculiar
toilet, apparently preferring the garb of mother Eve. The appearance
of the ladies is masculine, and far from prepossessing. Their figures
are usually short, stout, and clumsy, which is still farther increased
by the vast numbers of beads worn by the more wealthy, which hang in
cumbrous coils round the waist and neck. Their wrists, arms, and ankles,
moreover, are encircled by rings of copper, iron, and brass, of various
forms and sizes. They delight in finery, and besides the decoration
of their own persons, they profusely ornament their skin, shirts, and
cloaks, the whole being bedaubed with masses of fat and red ochre. “Their
naturally woolly hair is twisted in small cords, and matted with the
above substances into apparently metallic pendules, which, being of equal
length, assume the appearance of a skull-cap or inverted bowl of steel.”
Notwithstanding the Bechuanas acknowledge us to be a superior race to
themselves, they have no hesitation to pronounce many of our habits and
customs both clumsy and troublesome. They laugh at us for putting our
legs and arms into bags, and using buttons for the purpose of fastening
bandages round our bodies, instead of suspending them as ornaments
from the neck or hair of the head. Once initiated in the use of these
things, however, they are but too glad to benefit by them. To wash the
body instead of lubricating it with grease and red ochre seems to them a
disgusting custom, and cleanliness about one’s food, house, bedding, &c.,
often creates their mirth and ridicule.
The Bechuanas are great snuff-takers, and they indulge in the luxury to
excess. Sharing the contents of your snuff-box with a stranger is almost
the greatest compliment that can be paid to him. Knowing their propensity
in this respect, I brought with me a large supply, but, on my arrival at
the Lake, was astonished to find that they scarcely deigned to look at
it. I soon discovered the cause of their singular abstinence, which arose
simply from the article not being sufficiently pungent. Unless it forces
tears into their eyes, they look upon snuff as worthless.
The way in which the Bechuanas themselves manufacture snuff is singular
enough. A piece of tobacco being presented to a man, two stones are
forthwith procured, between which the weed is carefully ground, and,
when of sufficient fineness, a quantity of wood-ash is added, which,
to their nostrils, constitutes the very perfection of snuff. When the
amalgamation of the ingredients is perfected, every one present presses
eagerly forward to have a pinch. Each fills the palm of his hand with the
mixture, and scoops it into the nose with a peculiarly shaped iron or
ivory spoon, hung round the neck, drawing every grain leisurely up into
the nostrils in such abundance as to force big tears into the eyes, thus
proving the extent of the enjoyment. “Worse than barbarian would that man
be esteemed who would wantonly interrupt a social party so employed.”
Their greasy fingers constitute their handkerchiefs on such occasions,
and their faces, after one of these “snuff-floods,” may not inaptly be
likened to a dewy and furrowed field. Their snuff-boxes are either the
kernel of the palm-fruit, hollowed out, or a diminutive gourd, and, like
the ladles, are suspended round the neck, though sometimes they are
secured to the arm above the elbow.
The Bechuanas smoke, but it can hardly be said to be a fashionable vice
among them. This is, at least, as regards the men, for the women, on
the contrary, are inveterate smokers, a habit (as already mentioned
when speaking of the Hill-Damaras) often productive of serious bodily
disorders.
The occupations of the men consist chiefly in going to war, hunting,
preparing fur and skins for carosses, milking the cows, &c., while those
of the women are by far the heaviest—namely, the erection of houses,
collecting and bringing fuel, tilling, sowing, reaping, thrashing and
grinding the corn, not to mention the heavy task of rearing a family.
While cultivating the ground, I have often seen a woman with one or two
babies fastened to her back under a scorching sun. Yet, notwithstanding
all these exhausting and galling duties, they would be amazed were
a person to tell them that a state of “single blessedness” would be
preferable to that of being the drudge of a haughty and indolent husband.
“While standing near the wife of one of the grandees,” writes Mr.
Moffat, “who, with some female companions, was building a house, and
making preparations to scramble, by means of a branch, on to the roof,
I remarked that they ought to get their husbands to do that part of the
work. This set them all into a roar of laughter. Mahuto, the queen, and
several of the men drawing near to ascertain the cause of the merriment,
the wives repeated my—to them—strange and ludicrous proposal, when
another peal of mirth ensued. Mahuto, who was a sensible and shrewd
woman, stated that the plan, though hopeless, was a good one, as she
often thought our custom was much better than theirs. It was reasonable
that woman should attend to household affairs and the lighter parts of
labor, while man, wont to boast of his superior strength, should employ
his energy in more laborious occupations; adding, she wished I would give
their husbands medicine to make them do the work.”
The Bechuanas who inhabit the shores of the Ngami are rich in sheep and
goats, but possess comparatively few horned cattle. Like other tribes
of that nation, they are excessively fond of their oxen, but more
particularly prize their cows, which scarcely any thing can induce them
to part with. Indeed, they will readily give ivory, when plentiful, in
exchange for cows.
Gardening and agriculture are much practiced by the Bechuanas. These
occupations are conducted in nearly a similar manner as that described
among the Ovambo. The vegetables and the grain are also very much the
same.
The only marketable articles as yet ascertained at the Lake are ostrich
feathers, furs and skins of various sorts, rhinoceros horns, and ivory
(elephant and hippopotamus). The staple articles of exchange are beads,
and more especially ammunition. Clothing is as yet but very little in
demand, the people not being sufficiently advanced in civilization to
care for such a luxury. Even beads are not sought after with the avidity
they used to be, such quantities having of late been exported to the
Lake country that (to use a vulgar, but very emphatic expression of
Lecholètébè) “the women,” who chiefly wear beads, “grunt under their
burdens like pigs.” No visitor, however, should be entirely without
them. All large beads are useless. Small beads of the following colors,
pink, dull white, light green, brick-colored, light blue, dark blue, and
yellow, are chiefly in demand.
The Bechuanas of the Lake are fond of the chase, and almost daily parties
are sent out to provide for the chief’s table. But, though possessed of
a great number of fire-arms, few of the men have as yet attained any
proficiency in their use. By far the greater portion of animals slain are
obtained by means of pitfalls dug by the Bushmen and the Bayeye along
the banks of the rivers. As many as thirty to forty pitfalls may be seen
extending in one continuous line.
Though the finny tribe is pretty numerous in the Lake and its rivers,
none of the Bechuanas take the trouble to catch them. The conquered race,
the Bayeye, however, are very expert and industrious fishermen.