FIRST DAY IN APINGI LAND.--I FIRE A GUN.--THE NATIVES ARE
FRIGHTENED.--I GIVE THE KING A WAISTCOAT.--HE WEARS IT.--THE
SAPADI PEOPLE.--THE MUSIC-BOX.--I MUST MAKE A MOUNTAIN OF
BEADS.
In the morning when I awoke I looked round my room. Of course I did not
have to look far, for the house was small; besides, it was filled with
my baggage. Several fetiches hung on the walls, and in a corner was the
skull of an antelope fastened to the roof. There were no windows, the
floor of pounded yellow clay, and just by the few sticks which formed my
bed were the remains of an extinguished fire. It was daylight, for I
could hear the birds singing. The sun had risen, for I could see the
sunshine through the crevices of the walls, which were made of the bark
of trees, and through these the light came in. I listened to hear voices
in the village; but no, all was silent. I got up, intending to go to the
river to wash my face, and opened the door, which had been made with the
bottom of an old canoe. Every hut in the village had its door, for there
were famished leopards in the forest which often carried away people.
I had hardly stepped out of the house when I saw before me a very large
crowd of people, who gave a loud yell at my appearance. I instinctively
put my hand on one of my revolvers and held my gun in readiness; then
looked at these people, who had been surrounding my hut since daylight,
without saying a word.
Their yells were pretty loud. I knew not what they meant at first. I
looked at them, when most of the women and children, and some of the
men, ran away, although I cried out to them not to be afraid.
King Remandji soon arrived to say good-morning to me, and, while he was
by my side, I raised the double-barreled gun I had with me, which I had
loaded with a very heavy charge of powder, and fired it off. The gun
recoiled on my shoulder, and hurt me slightly. The people fled in
dismay, and the noise of the detonation re-echoed through the forest.
Remandji regarded me with fear and trembling. I reassured him by a
smile, and by putting on his head a most flaming red cap which I had got
ready for him. How he admired the bright red! He shouted to his people
to come back, which they all did.
After washing my face in the river I returned to the village. It was a
beautiful village. The houses were small, most of them being eight or
ten feet long and six or eight feet wide. The walls were built with the
bark of trees, and were about five feet high. The roofs were thatched
either with large leaves or with the leaves of the palm, and at the top
were about seven feet high. At the rear of the houses were large groves
of plantain-trees.
Walking through the street, I came to the big idol, or mbuiti of the
place, which stood under a ouandja (a covered roof), and there kept
guard. That morning a few plantains, ground-nuts, sugar-cane, and a
piece of a deer were before it. There was also a vessel with palm wine.
After walking to the end of the village I came back to Remandji, the
people hollaing and shouting all the time, "The good spirit has come!
the spirit has come!"
I breakfasted outside of my hut, a few roasted plantains and a boiled
fowl being my fare. How wild the shouts of these people were when they
saw me eating! They were perfectly frantic. The fork was an object of
the greatest wonder. They exclaimed, "The spirit does not eat with his
hand; the spirit has a queer mouth; the spirit has teeth that are not
filed sharp to a point; the spirit has a nose; how strange is the hair
of the spirit!"
The crowd was pouring in from all the surrounding villages, and the
excitement was intense. They were afraid, but, in despite of their fear,
they came to see the great spirit who had arrived in their country.
After breakfast I called Remandji, and led him into my hut, and also the
two head men, or graybeards of his village. Then I put on his majesty a
flaming red waistcoat. I could not spare a coat, and I had no pantaloons
to give him; luckily, they never want to wear the latter in this part of
the world. He looked splendid with his waistcoat on. I also put round
his neck a necklace of large blue and white beads, of the size of
sparrow's eggs. I gave him, into the bargain, a looking-glass, and he
was very much frightened when he saw his face in it, and he looked at me
as if to say "What next?"
To the two elders, or graybeards, I gave each a necklace of large beads,
and put on the head of each a red cap. Then we came out. As soon as the
people saw them appear in such great style, they became very wild. I
fired two guns, and Remandji and the two graybeards told the people not
to be afraid. Immediately, guided by the same instinct, they all
advanced toward us in a half-sitting posture, clapping their hands, and
at the same time shouting "Ah! ah! ah!" When they thought they were near
enough, they stopped, looked at me with a queer expression, and then
shouted, "You are a great spirit! you are a great spirit!" and then they
suddenly got up, and ran away to the other end of the village.
"Really the Apingi country is a strange land," said I to myself.
In the afternoon several thousand strangers filled the village. They had
come to look at me, but before sunset almost all of them had returned to
their homes. They had come by water and by land, from the mountains and
from the valleys. The story of the arrival of the spirit in Remandji
Village had spread far and wide, and every one came to see if it was
true, desiring to see for themselves. But how afraid they were when I
looked at them! How fast they ran away, and how quickly they would come
back, but always keeping at a respectful distance!
In the evening there was a grand ball. The noise was horrible, the
dancing was grand, the gesticulations and contortions were funny, the
tam-tams sounded strangely, the singing was powerful, and I, of course,
enjoyed the affair amazingly. I staid out all night to please them, and
they were glad to see me look at them and laugh.
After a few days I became the great friend of a good many. I gave them
beads, especially the women. I handled their little babies, and never
got angry, though sometimes their curiosity annoyed me very much indeed.
Remandji and I became great friends. He was a real nice king, and we
spent hours together. I was obliged to use Minsho as an interpreter, for
I do not understand the Apingi tongue very well. It seems to me like
the language of the Mbinga, a tribe which I have spoken of in "Stories
of the Gorilla Country."
One day a great crowd came and asked me to take my shoes off. When I
asked them why, they said they wanted to know if I had toes like they
had. "You have ears like we have," said they, "and we want to see if you
have cloven feet like an antelope. We want to see if your feet are like
those of a people who live far away from here, of whom we have heard,
and who are called _Sapadi_. Yes," they exclaimed, with one voice, "far
away in the mountains there are Sapadi; they do not have feet like other
people; they have feet like antelopes; they have cloven feet."
I told them that there were no such people. Remandji immediately called
one of his slaves, a man to whose country none of the Apingi had ever
been (the Shimba country), and he declared positively, with a look of
great truthfulness, that he had seen Sapadi. Another man also came
forward and declared the same thing--they were people like the Apingi,
only their feet were like those of antelopes.
To please them, I took off my boots. This was done in the midst of most
vociferous cheers. They took my socks to be my skin. After my socks were
taken off, and my naked feet burst upon their sight, the excitement
became intense. The idol was brought out, the drums began to beat, and
they sang songs to me, shouting and hollaing in the most approved
African manner. Remandji took one of my feet in his lap and touched it,
declaring that it was softer than the skin of a leopard. When his people
saw this they became frantic. "The great spirit has come! the great
spirit has come!" they shouted; "the king holds one of his feet!"
Remandji rose, and, in a half-squatting position, danced and sang before
me, the drums in the mean time beating furiously. The noise was
deafening. They took me for a god.
[Illustration: THE MUSIC-BOX.]
When they had calmed down a little I went into my hut, wound up my large
music-box, and, coming out, set it on an Apingi stool in the midst of
the crowd, who immediately retreated farther off. I then let the spring
go, and at once the music began to play. A dead silence followed the
tumult; the drums dropped down from between the drummers' legs; a leaf
falling on the ground could have been heard; they were perfectly mute.
Remandji and the people looked at me in affright. I went away, but of
course the music continued to go on. They looked from me to the box,
and back again, and finally exclaimed, "Lo! the devil speaks to him." I
disappeared into the woods, and the music continued--the devil continued
to speak.
The town is filled once more with strangers from the countries round,
who have come to see the spirit that is stopping with Remandji. The
forests are full of olakos in which these people sleep. The women appear
hideously ugly; every one of them seems to have three or four children,
and they are tattooed all over. On the bodies of many of them one could
not find a spot as big as a pea that was free from this tattooing. They
think that cutting their bodies in this way is beautifying. It is simply
hideous. They file their teeth sharp to a point, which gives their faces
a frightfully savage appearance; but, with all their ugliness, the
Apingi were kind-hearted, always treated me well, and loved me. I always
tried to do what was right by them.
One day they saw me writing my journal, and they said I was making print
and cloth to give them. During the nights they all believed I did not
sleep, but that I was at work making beads and all the things I gave
them, whereupon ensued a great council of above thirty Apingi chiefs,
who, after due deliberation with Remandji, who was at their head, came
to me, surrounded by thousands of their people, and then their king
delivered the following speech: "Spirit, you are our king; you have come
to our country to do us good." The people, with one accord, repeated
what Remandji had said--"You can do every thing." I wondered what was
coming next. Then, in a loud voice, he added, "Proceed now to make for
us a pile of beads, for we love the beads you make and give us. Make a
pile of them as high as the tallest tree in the village," and he pointed
to a giant tree which could not have been less than two hundred feet in
height, "so that our women and children may go and take as many beads as
they wish. You must give us cloth, brass kettles, copper rods, guns, and
powder."
The people liked the speech of Remandji, and shouted "Yo! yo!" a sign of
approval.
He continued: "The people will come to see you after you have gone; and
when we shall say to them, 'The spirit who came has gone,' they will
say, 'It is a lie! it is a lie! no spirit ever came to visit Remandji.'
But when the whole country shall be filled with the things which we ask
you to make, then, though they do not see you, they will say, 'Truly a
spirit has visited the land of the Apingi, and lived in Remandji's
village.'"
The faces of the crowd were beaming with satisfaction, for they approved
of Remandji's speech. Then there was a dead silence again. I did not
know what to say. I did not want to tell them I was a spirit, nor did I
wish to tell them I was not one, for prestige is a great thing in a
savage country.
They felt grieved when I told them I brought them things, and did not
make them. They did not believe me, and said, "Thy spirit does not wish
to do what we ask of it. Why, spirit, will you not do what we ask you!"
and then the whole crowd began to dance and sing before me, saying,
"Moguizi, do not be angry with us. Moguizi, we love you. Moguizi, you
are good. Moguizi, stay with us."
On my continued refusal they scattered, and I went among them.