A GREAT HUNTING-FEAST—“ROONDAH”—DIFFERENT VIANDS OF THE MENU—SPEECHES
AT THE BANQUET—MUSIC AND DANCING—A WEIRD FOREST-SCENE IN THE
TORCHLIGHT.
One afternoon Regundo said to me: “Oguizi, all the hunters and all the
men on the different plantations have gone into the forest to hunt, for
we want to give a big feast. They will not return for three days. Some
have gone net-hunting, others will make traps to catch game, and some
hunters have gone with their guns.”
I had accustomed myself to eat the food of the natives. I often fed,
while hunting, on fruits, berries and nuts. I ate all that came in my
way—elephant, crocodile, buffalo, antelope, monkey, and all kinds of
strange animals—and, when starving, I ate even snakes. Bread had been
unknown to me since I had lived in the country. Plantain and manioc were
my bread when I could get them. In a word, I ate whatever I could get;
it was better to do so than to die of starvation.
During the absence of the men, I saw that the women were preparing food;
large wooden mortars were filled up with manioc, a root which had been
left to soak in the water. The manioc was pounded into a paste which was
boiled and became thick and firm. This paste was then shaped into long
loaves, enveloped with plantain leaves, these being used instead of the
paper we should use at home. These loaves can be kept quite a number of
days. To the palate the manioc is somewhat sour.
Some women had been collecting njavi nuts, which come from one of the
most beautiful and largest trees of the forest. They boiled the seed,
which they mashed afterward on hollowed-out boards, squeezing the paste
with their hands, thus extracting the oil, which they poured into
gourds.
The small children were busy skinning the squash-seeds, after which the
seed was put into a mortar and pounded, forming a very fine paste to
which, from time to time, a little njavi oil was added. This is mixed
with meat afterwards.
One woman was busy making ndica. She had put seeds of the wild mango
into a mortar, and pounded these into a paste, after which the paste was
kneaded into the form of a big square cake and left to dry.
“I hope,” said Regundo to me, “the men will return with much game, for I
have ‘gouamba.’”
“What is ‘gouamba’?” I asked.
[Illustration: “_The women were preparing food_”]
He replied, “It is a craving for meat. When plantain or manioc is set
before us day after day without meat or fish, we begin to look at the
food with disgust.”
Regundo was right in his description. I had had “gouamba” many times,
and I longed for meat, experiencing the same effect as if at home one
were fed day after day on bread and water.
But Regundo’s wish was gratified. The hunters returned with a great
quantity of game. The most successful were those who had gone
net-hunting. Great numbers of long nets tied together had been spread in
the forest, and the game had been driven into them.
Everybody was happy. Thank-offerings of game to the spirits “Olombo” and
“Mombo” were taken into the forest for them to eat.
That day Regundo made a great offering of food to “Abamboo,” game,
plantains, nuts, sugar-cane, ground-nuts, and placed them carefully in
the forest. On his return he shouted, “Abamboo, I love you. I offer the
best of the food I have to you. Be good to me. Do not let sickness come
to me, Abamboo. Kill my enemies, those who wish me evil by witchcraft.”
He also made a sumptuous offering to “Mbuiri.”
The following morning the plantation wore an unusual aspect. Every woman
was busy cooking something. I waited around to see what.
In one pot a piece of elephant was boiling; in another a piece of
antelope was being cooked. Further on a big fat monkey was roasting on a
bright charcoal fire. In another place, the ribs of a huge boar were
being roasted in the same manner. Not far from where the boar was being
cooked, a big piece of smoked hippopotamus was being boiled. Still
further, a piece of smoked buffalo was also boiling, and the cook was
scraping ndica into the pot, to add to the flavor of the meat, while
another woman was mixing njavi oil with some other kind of meat. In one
pot a piece of a large python was boiling.
When all the meats were nearly ready, the women cooked green plantains,
took their skins off, cut them in two or three pieces, and then put them
in earthenware pots, covering them with green plantain leaves, and in
less than half an hour they were ready to be eaten. The plantain must be
eaten when quite warm; then it is mealy; when cold it becomes hard, and
is not very good.
In the meantime, some of the men were beating tomtoms furiously. Then
men appeared with calabashes filled up with palm wine, a liquid coming
from the sap of a species of palm-tree which, after it has fermented,
becomes intoxicating.
Mats had been spread upon the ground. Baskets and home-made earthenware
pots were to be used as dishes. Leaves took the place of plates, gourds
of goblets, and fingers of forks.
When everything was ready, we seated ourselves cross-legged on the
ground, upon the mats that had been spread. Regundo, Oshoria, Ngola,
Ogoola, Quabi, the medicine doctor, or ouganga, and I were close
together. Dishes containing the meat of the animals I have mentioned
were put before us. I offered to Regundo some buffalo meat.
“No, Oguizi,” said Regundo; “I never touch buffalo meat when it is
before me, for it is ‘roondah’ [a forbidden thing]. In the days of old,
one of my ancestresses gave birth to a buffalo, and since that time it
is ‘roondah’ to all the people that belong to our camp to eat of the
buffalo. A vessel in which buffalo has been cooked is never used by our
clan. I can eat all other animals.”
Then the ouganga, or medicine-man, exclaimed: “The wild boar is
‘roondah’ to me and to my clan;” and as I was on the point of putting a
piece of hippopotamus on the leaf of Oshoria, the latter said: “No, no,
Oguizi. I never eat hippopotamus meat. It is ‘roondah’ to me, because in
the days of old one of my clan gave birth to a hippopotamus.”
I laughed so much after he said this, shouting, “Never did a human being
give birth to a hippopotamus!” that Oshoria said, very seriously: “I
speak the truth, Oguizi, believe me.”
Every man had a “roondah,” and never used the vessel in which his
forbidden meat had been cooked.
We all had voracious appetites. Big pieces of meat disappeared fast one
after another. The men did not seem to take time to chew their food—they
took such big mouthfuls. I did not wonder at the size of the pieces they
seemed to swallow, for the mouths of most of them, when they laughed
almost spread from ear to ear.
Once in a while they would look suspiciously towards the Waterbury
clock. They could not get accustomed to it, for it was in their eyes a
supernatural thing that was always talking. As to myself, to show them
that I had no “roondah,” I tasted of every dish, but ate most of the
monkey, for its meat was fat and juicy, and tasted very good.
The dogs surrounded us, and with expectant look were waiting for a bone,
and as soon as one got a bone he disappeared to eat it alone.
After every dish had been cleared of its contents I got up from my seat
and said: “Slaves of King Mombo, and you belonging to other masters, the
Oguizi loves you all.”
Thereupon all shouted at the same time: “We love you also, for you are
good, Oguizi. Stay with us all the time.”
At these words Regundo rose and said: “You will not be hungry, Oguizi,
while you are with us. The hunters will go and hunt with you; there is
plenty of game in the forest—plenty of plantain trees and manioc in the
ground.”
“Yes,” shouted all the hunters, “we will go and hunt and kill game for
you. Stay with us, good Oguizi.”
At this I got up, telling them not to go away, went into my house, and
came out with some beads, looking-glasses, files, fire-steel, flints and
powder, and distributed these among them, giving to the women beads and
looking-glasses, and to the men the rest. Great excitement ensued. They
shouted: “We can die for you, Oguizi, for we love you.” Then in a
quieter manner they added: “Every evening after our day’s work is over
we will come and talk to you, for it does us good to see you.”
In the evening the slaves came with strange-looking musical instruments.
I was to be present at an African concert. The first musician played on
a “handja.” How queer the instrument looked! It consisted of a frame
about three feet and a half long, and two feet broad, in which were set
some ten or twelve hollow gourds covered by thin strips of hardwood.
These gourds and the strips of wood were of different sizes and so
graduated that they formed a regular series of notes. The tone was clear
and good.
When the player had finished his piece, another got up and played upon a
kind of harp, covered with the skin of a gazelle, and sang at the same
time.
Then another man took his place and played on what we might call a small
guitar, covered with a snake skin, singing at the same time. The strings
of these instruments were of vegetable fibre.
Ten men then came on with their tomtoms, which varied in size and length
according to the fashions of the tribes to which they belonged. The
cylinder of the longest was about six feet in length, of the shortest
about four feet. The wood was hollowed out quite thin, and antelope skin
stretched over both ends tightly. The drummers beat furiously on the
upper or larger end with two sticks. The more excited the people became,
the louder the drummers beat. No music can excite the savage more than
these tomtoms. The singing became terrific; the women, as well as the
men, made the wildest contortions and gesticulations as they danced. By
the light of the torches, with the great forest surrounding us, the
scene appeared weird and fantastic, as if it did not belong to this
world. It was almost morning when the festivities ended.
[Illustration: “_The first musician played on a ‘handja’_”]