KING OLENDA COMES TO RECEIVE ME.--HE IS VERY OLD.--NEVER SAW A
MAN SO OLD BEFORE.--HE BEATS HIS KENDO.--HE SALUTES ME WITH HIS
KOMBO.--KINGS ALONE CAN WEAR THE KENDO.
Olenda village was situated at the top of a high hill. The people, with
the exception of a few, had fled. All were afraid to see the moguizi
close by them.
"How could King Olenda run off, when his great friend Quengueza sent him
a moguizi?" shouted Okendjo; "the people will return when they see
Olenda facing you."
I was led to the onandja, and had scarcely seated myself on a native
stool when I heard the sound of the kendo--the king was coming. The
kendo was ringing, and no one can possess or ring a kendo but a king.
So, at every step the king made the kendo rang, and at last Olenda stood
before me.
[Illustration: RECEPTION OF THE KING OF THE ASIHRAS.]
Never in my life had I seen a man so old; never did I dream that a man
could be so old, and I wondered not that his fame had spread far and
wide on account of his age. He was a man with wool as white as snow, and
his face was a mass of wrinkles. Every rib could be seen, for the skin
was like parchment. His body was bent almost double with age, and the
legs and arms were like sticks, apparently not bigger than
broom-handles. His cheeks were so hollow that the skin seemed to cling
to the bones. He had painted with the chalk of the Alumbi his haggard
old face, red on one side and white on the other, in streaks, and, as he
stood before me, I wondered as much at his appearance as he did at mine.
He carried a long stick or cane to support himself. The like I had never
seen. He seemed the apparition of some man who had lived in our world a
couple of hundred years.
When we had gazed at each other (he looking at me with deep little eyes
for at least five minutes, and beating his kendo all the time with his
palsied hand), he suddenly spoke and said, "I have no bowels; I am like
the Ovenga River--I can not be cut in two. I am also like the Niembai
and Ovenga Rivers, which unite together. Thus my body is united, and
nothing can divide it."
This gibberish had some deep mystic significance. It was the regular and
invariable salutation of the Ashira kings, Olenda's predecessors, time
out of mind. Each chief and important person has such a salutation,
which they call _kombo_.
I will explain Olenda's kombo to you. If you had before you a map of the
countries I have explored in Equatorial Africa, which are published in
my larger works, you would see on it the River Ovenga. Olenda means,
when he says that he can not be cut in two and is like the River Ovenga,
that his body can not be divided any more than the River Ovenga can be
cut in twain. The Niembai and Ovenga unite together and form one river,
called Rembo; so, if his body was cut in two, it could not be separated,
for, as the two rivers unite and form one, so the two parts of his body
would reunite again and form one.
Then he continued, beating his kendo from time to time, "You, the
spirit, have come to see Olenda; you, the spirit, have put your feet
where none like you have ever been. You are welcome."
Here the old king's son, also a very old negro, with white wool on his
head, handed over to the king two slaves, which his majesty formally
presented to me, together with three goats, twenty bunches of plantains,
twenty fowls, five baskets of ground-nuts, and several bunches of
sugar-cane.
"This," said he, "is to salute you. Whatever else you want, tell me. I
am the king of this country; I am older than any tree you see around
you."
I replied that slaves I did not want, but the food and other presents I
would take.
Then more of the old man's children came, all old, and wrinkled, and
white-headed men. They stood before me, regarding me with wonder and
awe, while the people, of whom thousands were gathered from all the
villages of the plain, had returned while their old king was speaking to
me. They looked on in silence, and expressed their surprise in whispers.
At last the old king turned to his people and said, "I have seen many
things in my life--many wonderful things; but now I am ready to die, for
I have received the moguizi spirit, from whom we receive all things. It
will always be said in our nation, by those coming after us, that in the
time of Olenda the spirit first appeared and dwelt among us. You are
welcome (turning to me). Keep this spirit well (to his people); he will
do us good."
I was amazed; my eyes could not keep away from Olenda. I knew not that
men could become so old.
Then Olenda began to beat his kendo again, invoking the spirits of his
ancestors to be with him and his, and, with big body bent double, and
supported by his cane, he returned to his hut, ejaculating "_Ma-mo_,
_ma-mo_, _ma-mo_!"
The kendo is the symbol of royalty in most of the tribes of this part of
the interior of Africa. It is a rude bell of iron, furnished with a long
handle, also of iron, and of the same piece, as shown in the engraving.
The sound, which at home announces the vicinity of a herd of cows or
sheep, in Africa precedes the advent of the sovereign, who uses the
kendo only when on visits of state or on business of importance. When
not beating it they wear it on the shoulder. The bell may vary from six
to eight inches in length, and the handle from twelve to fifteen inches.
When they wear the kendo they fill it with a skin, generally of an
oshengui, which contains monda, or charms, to keep away the aniemba.
A nice little hut was given to me, and I was soon safely housed in it.
One of the chickens given to me by Olenda was killed, and a soup made
with it. It was excellent, and did me good.