THE NEAM-NAM, DÔR, AND DJOUR TRIBES.
LOCALITY OF THE NEAM-NAM TRIBE -- THEIR WARLIKE NATURE -- A SINGULAR
RECEPTION -- EFFECT OF FIRE-ARMS -- DRESS AND GENERAL APPEARANCE
OF THE NEAM-NAM TRIBE -- MODE OF HUNTING ELEPHANTS -- REMARKABLE
WEAPONS -- THE DÔR TRIBE AND ITS SUBDIVISIONS -- WEAPONS OF THE DÔR
-- A REMARKABLE POUCH OR QUIVER -- THE ARROWS AND THEIR TERRIBLE
BARBS -- A DÔR BATTLE -- TREATMENT OF DEAD ENEMIES -- “DROPPING
DOWN” UPON THE ELEPHANT -- DRESS OF THE DÔR -- THE LIP-ORNAMENT --
THEIR ARCHITECTURE -- CURIOUS APPROACH TO THE VILLAGE -- THE WOODEN
CHIEFS AND THEIR FOLLOWERS -- MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS -- THE DJOUR TRIBE
-- ABSENCE OF CATTLE -- THE TSETSE-FLY -- METALLURGY -- INGENIOUS
SMELTING FURNACE -- WOMEN’S KNIVES -- EXTENSIVE TRAFFIC -- SMOKING --
THE BARK “QUIDS.”
Just over the Equator, and in the Nile district, is a very remarkable
tribe called the NEAM-NAM. They are a fierce and warlike people, and
aggressive toward all the surrounding tribes, making incursions into
their territories, and carrying off their children into slavery.
Consequently they are held in the utmost dread, and the lands that
surround the Neam-Nam borders are left uncultivated, no one daring to
occupy them for fear of their terrible neighbors. The Neam-Nam seem not
only to have firmly established themselves, but even to have gradually
extended their boundaries, their neighbors falling farther and farther
back at each successive raid.
When Mr. Petherick passed through their country, many of his porters
could not be induced to enter the territory of such a terrible tribe,
even though protected by the white man’s weapons. Several of them
deserted on the way, and at last, when they were come in sight of the
first village, the rest flung down their loads and ran away, only the
interpreter being secured.
As they neared the village, the menacing sound of the alarm drum was
heard, and out came the Neam-Nams in full battle array, their lances in
their right hands and their large shields covering their bodies. They
drew up in line, and seemed disposed to dispute the passage; but as
the party marched quietly and unconcernedly onward, they opened their
ranks and allowed them to enter the village, from which the women and
children had already been removed. They then seated themselves under
the shade of a large sycamore tree, deposited the baggage, and sat in
a circle round it, keeping on all sides a front to the armed natives,
who now began to come rather nearer than was agreeable, some actually
seating themselves on the traveller’s feet. They were all very merry
and jocose, pointing at their visitors continually, and then bursting
into shouts of approving laughter. There was evidently some joke which
tickled their fancy, and by means of the interpreter it was soon
discovered.
The fact was, that the Neam-Nam were cannibals, and meant to eat the
strangers who had so foolishly trusted themselves in the country
without either spears, swords, or shields, but they did not like
to kill them before their chief arrived. When this pleasant joke
was explained, the astonished visitors were nearly as amused as the
Neam-Nam, knowing perfectly well that their weapons were sufficient to
drive off ten times the number of such foes.
Presently the chief arrived--an old, gray-headed man, who, by his
sagacity, certainly showed himself worthy of the post which he held.
After a colloquy with the interpreter, he turned to his people, and the
following extraordinary discourse took place:--
“Neam-Nam, do not insult these strange men. Do you know whence they
come?”
“No; but we will feast on them,” was the rejoinder. Then the old man,
holding up his spear, and commanding silence, proceeded thus:
“Do you know of any tribe that would dare to approach our village in
such small numbers as these men have done?”
“No!” was again vociferated.
“Very well; you know not whence they come, nor do I, who am greatly
your senior, and whose voice you ought to respect. Their country must
indeed be distant, and to traverse the many tribes between their
country and ours ought to be a proof to you of their valor. Look at the
things they hold in their hands: they are neither spears, clubs, nor
bows and arrows, but inexplicable bits of iron mounted on wood. Neither
have they shields to defend their bodies from our weapons. Therefore,
to have travelled thus far, depend on it their means of resistance must
be as puzzling to us, and far superior to any arms that any tribe, ay,
even our own, can oppose to them. Therefore, Neam-Nam, I, who have led
you to many a fight, and whose counsels you have often followed, say,
shed not your blood in vain, nor bring disgrace upon your fathers,
who have never been vanquished. Touch them not, but prove yourselves
to be worthy of the friendship of such a handful of brave men, and do
yourselves honor by entertaining them, rather than degrade them by the
continuance of your insults.”
It is impossible not to admire the penetration of this chief, who was
wise enough to deduce the strength of his visitors from their apparent
weakness, and to fear them for those very reasons that caused his more
ignorant and impetuous people to despise them.
Having thus calmed the excitement, he asked to inspect the strange
weapons of his guests. A gun was handed to him--the cap having been
removed--and very much it puzzled him. From the mode in which it was
held, it was evidently not a club; and yet it could not be a knife, as
it had no edge; nor a spear, as it had no point. Indeed, the fact of
the barrel being hollow puzzled him exceedingly. At last he poked his
finger down the muzzle, and looked inquiringly at his guest, as if to
ask what could be the use of such an article. By way of answer, Mr.
Petherick took a gun, and, pointing to a vulture that was hovering over
their heads, fired, and brought it down.
“But before the bird touched the ground, the crowd were prostrate, and
grovelling in the dust, as if every man of them had been shot. The old
man’s head, with his hands on his ears, was at my feet; and when I
raised him, his appearance was ghastly, and his eyes were fixed on me
with a meaningless expression. I thought that he had lost his senses.
“After shaking him several times, I at length succeeded in attracting
his attention to the fallen bird, quivering in its last agonies
between two of his men. The first sign of returning animation he gave
was putting his hand to his head, and examining himself as if in
search of a wound. He gradually recovered, and, as soon as he could
regain his voice, called to the crowd, who one after the other first
raised their heads, and then again dropped them at the sight of their
apparently lifeless comrades. After the repeated call of the old man,
they ventured to rise, and a general inspection of imaginary wounds
commenced.”
This man, Mur-mangae by name, was only a sub-chief, and was inferior
to a very great chief, whose name was Dimoo. There is one single king
among the Neam-Nam, who are divided into a number of independent
sub-tribes, each ruled by its own chief, and deriving its importance
from its numbers. While they were recovering from the effect of the
shot, Dimoo himself appeared, and, after hearing the wonderful tale,
seemed inclined to discredit it, and drew up his men as if to attack.
Just then an elephant appeared in the distance, and he determined to
use the animal as a test, asking whether the white men’s thunder could
kill an elephant as well as a vulture, and that, if it could do so, he
would respect them. A party was at once despatched, accompanied by the
chief and all the savages. At the first volley down went most of the
Neam-Nam, including the chief, the rest running away as fast as their
legs could carry them.
After this event the whole demeanor of the people was changed from
aggressive insolence to humble respect, and they immediately showed
their altered feelings by sending large quantities of milk and porridge
for the party, and half a fat dog for Mr. Petherick’s own dinner. They
also began to open a trade, and were equally astonished and amused that
such common and useless things as elephants’ tusks could be exchanged
for such priceless valuables as beads, and were put in high good-humor
accordingly. Up to that time trade had been entirely unknown among the
Neam-Nam, and, though the people made great use of ivory in fashioning
ornaments for themselves, they never had thought of peaceful barter
with their neighbors, thinking that to rob was better than to exchange.
Dimoo, however, still retained some of his suspicious nature, which
showed itself in various little ways. At last Mr. Petherick invented
on the spur of the moment a plan by which he completely conquered
his host. Dimoo had taken an inordinate fancy for the tobacco of his
guests, and was always asking for some. As the supply was small, Mr.
Petherick did not like to make it still smaller, while, at the same
time, a refusal would have been impolitic. So, one day, when the usual
request was made, he acceded to it, at the same time telling Dimoo that
the tobacco was unsafe to smoke, because it always broke the pipes of
those who meditated treachery toward him.
Meanwhile, a servant, who had been previously instructed, filled
Dimoo’s pipe, at the same time inserting a small charge of gunpowder,
for which there was plenty of room, in consequence of the inordinate
size of the bowl. Dimoo took the pipe and began to smoke it defiantly,
when all at once an explosion took place, the bowl was shattered
to pieces, and Dimoo and his councillors tumbled over each other
in terror. Quite conquered by this last proof of the white man’s
omniscience, he humbly acknowledged that he did meditate treachery--not
against his person, but against his goods--and that his intention was
to detain the whole party until he had got possession of all their
property.
The appearance of the Neam-Nam tribe is very striking. They are not
quite black, but have a brown and olive tint of skin. The men are
better clothed than is usually the case in Central Africa, and wear a
homemade cloth woven from bark fibres. A tolerably large piece of this
cloth is slung round the body in such a way as to leave the arms at
liberty. The hair is plaited in thick masses, extending from the neck
to the shoulders.
In the operation of hair dressing they use long ivory pins, varying
from six to twelve or fourteen inches in length, and very slightly
curved. One end is smoothly pointed, and the other is much thicker, and
for some four inches is carved into various patterns, mostly of the
zigzag character which is so prevalent throughout Africa. When the hair
is fully combed out and arranged, two of the largest pins are stuck
through it horizontally, and a number of shorter pins are arranged in
a radiating form, so that they form a semi-circle, something like the
large comb of a Spanish lady.
One of these pins is now before me. It is just a foot in length, and
at the thick end is almost as large as a black-lead pencil, tapering
gradually to the other end. The butt, or base, is covered with a
multitude of scratches, which are thought to be ornamental, but which
look exactly as if they had been cut by a child who for the first time
had got hold of a knife, and they are stained black with a decoction of
some root.
The dress of the women consists partly of a piece of cloth such as has
been described, but of smaller dimensions, and, besides this, they
wear a rather curious apron made of leather. The one in my collection
somewhat resembles that of the Zulu apron, shown in “Articles of
Costume,” at page 33, fig. 3, but is not nearly so thick nor so heavy,
and indeed is made on a different plan. The top is a solid square of
thick leather doubled in the middle and then beaten flat. To both of
the edges has been firmly sewed a triple row of flat leathern thongs,
almost the eighth of an inch in width, and scarcely thicker than brown
paper. Six rows of these flat thongs are therefore attached to the
upper leather. All the ornament, simple as it is, is confined to the
front layer of thongs, and consists entirely of iron. Flat strips
of iron, evidently made by beating wire flat, are twisted round the
thongs and then hammered down upon them, while the end of each thong is
further decorated with a ring or loop of iron wire.
The centre of the solid leather is ornamented with a circular piece
of iron, boss-shaped, scratched round the edges, and having an iron
ring in its centre. The strap which supports the apron is fastened
to a couple of iron rings at the upper corners. In some aprons bead
ornaments take the place of the iron boss, but in almost every instance
there is an ornament of some kind. The women have also an ornament made
by cutting little flat pieces of ivory, and placing them on a strip
of leather, one over the other, like fish scales. This ornament is
worn as a necklace. They also carve pieces of ivory into a tolerable
imitation of cowrie-shells, and string them together as if they were
the veritable shells.
There is another ornament that exhibits a type of decoration which is
prevalent throughout the whole of Central Africa. It is composed of a
belt of stout leather--that of the hippopotamus being preferred, on
account of its strength and thickness--to which are attached a quantity
of empty nutshells. Through the upper end of the nut a hole is bored
with a redhot iron, and an iron ring passes through this hole and
another which has been punched through the leather. The shell is very
hard and thick, and, when the wearer dances with the energetic gestures
which accompany such performances, the nuts keep up a continual and
rather loud clatter.
The Neam-Nam all wear leathern sandals, and although their clothing is
so scanty, they are remarkable for their personal cleanliness, a virtue
which is so rare in Africa that it deserves commemoration whenever it
does occur.
As may already have been seen, the Neam-Nam are a cannibal race, and
always devour the bodies of slain enemies. This repulsive custom is not
restricted to enemies, but is extended to nearly all human beings with
whom they come in contact, their own tribe not proving any exception.
Mr. Petherick was told by themselves that when a Neam-Nam became old
and feeble, he was always killed and eaten, and that when any were at
the point of death, the same fate befell them.
Should one of their slaves run away and be captured, he is always
slain and eaten as a warning to other slaves. Such an event, however,
is of very rare occurrence, the slaves being treated with singular
kindness, and master and slave being mutually proud of each other.
Indeed, in many families the slaves are more valued than the children.
Indeed, much of the wealth of the Neam-Nam consists of slaves, and a
man measures his importance by the number of slaves whom he maintains.
All these slaves belong to some other tribe, and were captured by their
owners, so that they are living witnesses of prowess as well as signs
of wealth. They are never sold or bartered, and therefore a slave
dealer is not known among them, and they are spared one of the chief
curses of Africa. As a general rule, the slaves are so faithful, and
are so completely incorporated with the household to which they belong,
that in case of war they are armed, and accompany their masters to
battle.
The Neam-Nam are skilful hunters, and make great use of fire when
chasing the elephant. As they were desirous of procuring tusks to
exchange for Mr. Petherick’s beads, they anxiously awaited the first
rains, which would bring the elephants into their country.
“Successive showers followed, and, after a fortnight’s sojourn, a
herd of eighteen elephants was announced by beat of tom-tom, as being
in the vicinity. Old men, boys, women, and children, collected with
most sanguine expectations; and, anxious to witness the scene, I
accompanied the hunters. A finer body of well-grown and active men I
never beheld. The slaves, many of them from the Baer, but most of them
appertaining to unknown tribes from the west, were nearly black, and
followed their more noble-looking and olive-colored masters. Two hours’
march--the first part through cultivated grounds and the latter through
magnificent bush--brought us to the open plain, covered hip-deep with
dry grass, and there were the elephants marching leisurely toward us.
“The negroes, about five hundred, swift as antelopes, formed a vast
circle round them, and by their yells brought the huge game to a
standstill. As if by magic, the plain was on fire, and the elephants,
in the midst of the roar and crackling of the flames, were obscured
from our view by the smoke. Where I stood, and along the line, as far
as I could see, the grass was beaten down to prevent the outside of
the circle from being seized in the conflagration; and, in a short
time--not more than half an hour--the fire having exhausted itself,
the cloud of smoke, gradually rising, again displayed the group of
elephants standing as if petrified. As soon as the burning embers had
become sufficiently extinct, the negroes with a whoop closed from all
sides upon their prey. The fire and smoke had blinded them, and, unable
to defend themselves, they successively fell by the lances of their
assailants. The sight was grand, and, although their tusks proved a
rich prize, I was touched at the massacre.”
When the Neam-Nam warrior goes out to battle, he takes with him a
curious series of weapons. He has, of course, his lance, which is well
and strongly put together, the blade being leaf-shaped, like that of a
hog spear, only very much longer. On his left arm he bears his shield,
which is made of bark fibre, woven very closely together, and very
thick. The maker displays his taste in the patterns of the work, and in
those which he traces upon it with variously colored dyes. Within the
shield he has a sort of wooden handle, to which are attached one or two
most remarkable weapons.
One of these is wholly flat, the handle included, and is about the
thickness of an ordinary sword-blade. The projecting portions are all
edged, and kept extremely sharp, while the handle is rather thicker
than the blade, and is rounded and roughened, so as to afford a firm
grip to the hand. (See the “Neam-Nam Fight” on p. 437.)
When the Neam-Nam comes near his enemy, and before he is within range
of a spear thrust, he snatches one of these strange weapons from his
shield, and hurls it at the foe, much as an Australian flings his
boomerang, an American Indian his tomahawk, and a Sikh his chakra,
giving it a revolving motion as he throws it. Owing to this mode of
flinging, the weapon covers a considerable space, and if the projecting
blades come in contact with the enemy’s person, they are sure to
disable, if not to kill, him on the spot.
And as several of these are hurled in rapid succession, it is evident
that the Neam-Nam warrior is no ordinary foe, and that even the
possessor of fire-arms might in reality be overcome if taken by
surprise, for, as the “boomerangs” are concealed within the shield,
the first intimation of their existence would be given by their sharp
blades whirling successively through the air with deadly aim.
Besides the lance and the “boomerangs,” each Neam-Nam carries a
strangely-shaped knife in a leathern sheath, and oddly enough the
hilt is always downward. It is sharp at both edges, and is used as a
hand-to-hand weapon after the boomerangs have been thrown, and the
parties have come too close to use the spear effectually. From the
projection at the base of the blade a cord is tied loosely to the
handle, and the loop passed over the wrist, so as to prevent the
warrior from being disarmed.
Some of the Neam-Nam tribes use a very remarkable shield. It is
spindle-shaped, very long and very narrow, measuring only four or five
inches in breadth in the middle, and tapering to a point at either end.
In the middle a hole is scooped, large enough to contain the hand, and
a bar of wood is left so as to form a handle. This curious shield is
carried in the left hand, and is used to ward off the lances or arrows
of the enemy, which is done by giving it a smart twist.
In principle and appearance it resembles so closely the shield of the
native Australian, that it might easily be mistaken for one of those
weapons. Sometimes a warrior decorates his shield by covering it with
the skin of an antelope, wrapped round it while still wet, and then
sewed together in a line with the handle. The Shilloch and Dinka tribes
use similar weapons, but their shields are without the hollow guard for
the hand, and look exactly like bows without the strings.
Each warrior has also a whistle, or call, made of ivory or antelope’s
horn, which is used for conveying signals; and some of the officers, or
leaders, have large war trumpets, made of elephants’ tusks. One form of
these trumpets is seen in the illustration “Caboceer and soldiers,” on
page 564. The reader will observe that, as is usual throughout Africa,
they are sounded from the side, like a flute, and not from the end,
like ordinary trumpets.
Altogether Mr. Petherick passed a considerable time among this justly
dreaded tribe, and was so popular among them, that when he left the
country he was accompanied by crowds of natives, and the great chief
Dimoo not only begged him to return, but generously offered his
daughter as a wife in case the invitation were accepted, and promised
to keep her until wanted.
THE DÔR.
Passing by a number of small and comparatively insignificant tribes,
we come to the large and important tribe of the Dôr. Like all African
tribes of any pretence, it includes a great number of smaller or
sub-tribes, which are only too glad to be ranked among so important and
powerful a tribe, and, for the sake of belonging to it, they forego
their own individuality.
Like the Neam-Nam, the Dôr acknowledged no paramount chief, the
innumerable sub-tribes of which it is composed being each independent,
and nearly all at feud with one another. Indeed the whole political
condition of the Dôr is wonderfully similar to that of Scotland, when
clan was set against clan, and a continual state of feud prevailed
among them, though they all gloried in the name of Scotchman.
As in the old days of Chevy Chase, a hunt is almost a sure precursor
of a fight. The Dôr are much given to hunting, and organize battues
on a grand scale. They weave strong nets of bark fibre, and fasten
them between trunks of trees, so as to cover a space of several miles.
Antelopes and other game are driven from considerable distances into
these nets; and as the hunters have to pass over a large space of
country, some of which is sure to be claimed by inimical tribes, a
skirmish, if not a regular battle, is sure to take place.
The weapons carried by the Dôr are of rather a formidable description.
One of the most curious is the club. It is about two feet six inches in
length, and is remarkable for the shape of the head, which is formed
like a mushroom, but has sharp edges. As it is made of very hard wood,
it is a most effective weapon, and not even the stone-like skull of
a Dôr warrior can resist a blow from it. The bow exhibits a mode of
construction which is very common in this part of Africa, and which
must interfere greatly with the power of the weapon. The string does
not extend to the tips of the bow, so that eighteen inches or so of the
weapon are wasted, and the elasticity impaired. The reader will see
that, if the ends of the bow were cut off immediately above the string,
the strength and elasticity would suffer no diminution, and that, in
fact, the extra weight at each end of the bow only gives the weapon
more work to do.
The Africans have a strange habit of making a weapon in such a way
that its efficiency shall be weakened as much as possible. Not content
with leaving a foot or so of useless wood at each end of the bow, some
tribes ornament the weapon with large tufts of loose strings or fibres,
about half way between the handle and the tip, as if to cause as much
disturbance to the aim as possible. Spears again are decorated with
tufts to such an extent that they are rendered quite unmanageable.
Much more care is taken with the arrows than with the bows. There is
a great variety in the shape of the arrows, as also in their length.
They are all iron-headed, and every man seems to make his arrows after
his own peculiar fashion; sometimes large and broad-headed, sometimes
slightly barbed, though more commonly slender and sharply pointed.
In my collection there is a most remarkable quiver, once belonging to
a warrior of one of the Dôr sub-tribes. It was brought from Central
Africa by Mr. Petherick. Nothing can be simpler than the construction
of this quiver. The maker has cut a strip of antelope hide rather more
than three feet in length and fourteen inches in width. He has then
poked his knife through the edges at moderately regular intervals, so
as to make a series of holes. A thong about half an inch wide has
next been cut from the same hide, and passed through the topmost hole
or slit, a large knot preventing it from slipping through. It has
then been passed through the remaining slits, so as to lace the edges
together like the sides of a boot. The bottom is closed by the simple
plan of turning it up and lacing it by the same thong to the side of
the quiver.
It is hardly possible to conceive any rougher work. The maker has cut
the slits quite at random, so that he has occasionally missed one or
two, and he has not taken the least pains to bring the sides of the
quiver together throughout their length. So stupid or careless has he
been, that he has begun by cutting the strip of skin much too narrow,
and then has widened it, never taking the pains to sew up the cut,
which extends two-thirds down the quiver.
Four or five of the arrows have the leaf-shaped head and need not be
particularly described. The largest of the arrows, being a “cloth-yard
shaft,” but for the absence of feathers, might vie with the weapons of
the old English archers. The head is remarkable for a heavy ridge which
runs along the centre on both sides. There is another not so boldly
barbed as that which has just been mentioned, but which is quite as
formidable a weapon, on account of a thick layer of poison that begins
just behind the head, and extends nearly as far as the shaft.
The most characteristic forms, however, are these two. The first is an
arrow which is barbed with a wonderful ingenuity, the barbs not being
mere projections, but actual spikes, more than an inch in length, and
at the base nearly as thick as a crow quill. They have been separated
from the iron head by the blow of a chisel, or some such implement, and
have then been bent outward, and sharpened until the points are like
those of needles. Besides these long barbs, the whole of the square
neck of the iron is jagged exactly like the Bechuana assagai which has
been figured on page 281.
Such an arrow cannot be extracted, and the only mode of removing it is
to push it through the wound. But the Central Africans have evidently
thought that their enemy was let off too cheaply by being allowed to
rid himself of the arrow by so simple a process, and accordingly they
have invented a kind of arrow which can neither be drawn out nor pushed
through. In the second of these arrows there is a pair of reversed
barbs just at the junction of the shaft and the iron head, so that when
the arrow has once penetrated, it must either be cut out or allowed to
remain where it is. Such an arrow is not poisoned, nor does it need
any such addition to its terrors. Both these arrows are remarkable for
having the heads fastened to the shaft, first in the ordinary way, by
raw hide, and then by a band of iron, about the sixth of an inch in
width. Though shorter than some of the other arrows, they are on that
account much heavier.
One of the fights consequent on a hunt is well described by Mr.
Petherick. He was sitting in the shade at noon-day, when he perceived
several boys running in haste to the village for an additional supply
of weapons for their fathers. “The alarm spread instantly that a fight
was taking place, and the women _en masse_ proceeded to the scene with
yellings and shrieks indescribable. Seizing my rifle, and accompanied
by four of my followers, curiosity to see a negro fight tempted me to
accompany them. After a stiff march of a couple of hours through bush
and glade, covered with waving grass reaching nearly to our waists, the
return of several boys warned us of the proximity of the fight, and
of their fear of its turning against them, the opposing party being
the most numerous. Many of the women hurried back to their homes, to
prepare, in case of emergency, for flight and safety in the bush. For
such an occurrence, to a certain extent, they are always prepared;
several parcels of grain and provisions, neatly packed up in spherical
forms in leaves surrounded by network, being generally kept ready in
every hut for a sudden start.
“Accelerating our pace, and climbing up a steep hill, as we reached the
summit, and were proceeding down a gentle slope, I came in contact with
Djau and his party in full retreat, and leaping like greyhounds over
the low underwood and high grass. On perceiving me, they halted, and
rent the air with wild shouts of ‘The White Chief! the White Chief!’
and I was almost suffocated by the embraces of the chief. My presence
gave them courage to face the enemy again; a loud peculiar shrill
whoop from the gray-headed but still robust chief was the signal for
attack, and, bounding forward, they were soon out of sight. To keep
up with them would have been an impossibility; but, marching at the
top of our pace, we followed them as best we could. After a long march
down a gentle declivity, at the bottom of which was a beautiful glade,
we again came up with them drawn up in line, in pairs, some yards
apart from each other, within the confines of the bush, not a sound
indicating their presence.
“Joining them, and inquiring what had become of the enemy, the man whom
I addressed silently pointed to the bush on the opposite side of the
glade, some three hundred yards across. Notwithstanding my intention
of being a mere spectator, I now felt myself compromised in the fight;
and, although unwilling to shed blood, I could not resist my aid to the
friends who afforded me an asylum amongst them. Marching, accordingly,
into the open space with my force of four men, I resolved that we
should act as skirmishers on the side of our hosts, who retained their
position in the bush. We had proceeded about a third of the way across
the glade, when the enemy advanced out of the wood and formed, in a
long line of two or three deep, on its confines opposite to us. I also
drew up my force, and for an instant we stood looking at each other.
Although within range, at about two hundred yards’ distance, I did not
like to fire upon them; but in preference continued advancing, thinking
the prestige of my fire-arms would be sufficient.
“I was right. We had scarcely marched fifty yards when a general flight
took place, and in an instant Djau and his host, amounting to some
three or four hundred men, passed in hot pursuit. After reflection on
the rashness of exposing myself with so few men to the hostility of
some six hundred negroes, and in self-congratulation on the effect my
appearance in the fight had produced, I waited the return of my hosts.
In the course of an hour this took place; and, as they advanced, I
shall never forget the impression they made upon me. A more complete
picture of savage life I could not have imagined. A large host of naked
negroes came trooping on, grasping in their hands bow and arrow, lances
and clubs, with wild gesticulations and frightful yells proclaiming
their victory, whilst one displayed the reeking head of a victim. I
refused to join them in following up the defeat of their enemies by a
descent on their villages.
“With some difficulty they were persuaded to be content with the
success already achieved--that of having beaten off a numerically
superior force--and return to their homes. Their compliance was only
obtained by an actual refusal of further co-operation; but in the event
of a renewed attack upon their villages, the probability of which was
suggested, I promised them my willing support.”
The death of an enemy and the capture of his body are always causes
of great rejoicing among the Dôr tribes, because they gain trophies
whereby they show their skill in warfare. In the centre of every
village there is a large open space, or circus, in the middle of which
is the venerated war tree. Beneath this tree are placed the great
war drums, whose deep, booming notes can be heard for miles. On the
branches are hung the whitened skulls of slain warriors, and the war
drums only sound when a new head is added to the trophy, or when the
warriors are called to arms.
Four of the enemy were killed in this skirmish, and their bodies were
thrown into the bush, their heads being reserved for the trophy. On
the same evening they were brought into the village circus, and dances
performed in honor of the victors. The great drums were beaten in
rhythmic measure, and the women advanced in pairs, dancing to the sound
of the drum and chanting a war-song. As they approached the heads of
the victims, they halted, and addressed various insulting epithets to
them, clanking their iron anklets and yelling with excitement. On the
following day the heads were taken into the bush to be bleached, and,
after they were completely whitened, they were hung on the trophy with
the accompaniment of more shouts and dances.
All their hunting parties, however, are not conducted in this manner,
nor do they all lead to bloodshed. When they hunt the elephant,
for example, the animal is attacked by a small party, and for the
sufficient reason, namely, that he who first wounds the elephant takes
the tusks, and therefore every additional man only decreases the chance.
They have one singularly ingenious mode of hunting the elephant, which
is conducted by one man alone. The hunter takes with him a remarkable
spear made for the express purpose. One of these spears, which was
brought from Central Africa by Mr. Petherick, is in my collection,
and a representation of it may be seen on page 103, fig. 2. They
vary slightly in size, but my specimen is a very fair example of the
average dimensions. It is rather more than six feet in length, three
feet of which are due to the iron head and the socket into which the
shaft passes. As may be seen, the shaft tapers gradually, so as to
permit it to pass into the socket. To the butt is fastened a heavy
piece of wood, rather more than four inches in diameter. It is a heavy
weapon, its whole weight being a little more than seven pounds, and is
so ill-balanced and so unwieldy, that, unless its use were known, it
would seem to be about the most clumsy weapon that ever was invented.
This, however, is the spear by which the Dôr and Baer tribes kill the
elephant, and very ingeniously they do it.
Knowing the spots where the elephant loves to hide itself in the
noon-tide, and which are always in the depths of the forest, the hunter
proceeds thither in the early morning, and carries with him his heavy
spear and some rope. When he approaches the place, he proceeds to take
some large stones, and binds them to the butt of the spear, plastering
them over thickly with lumps of clay, so as to make his heavy weapon
still heavier. He then ties one end of the rope to the spear, and after
selecting a suitable tree, climbs it, and works his way out upon one
of the horizontal branches, hauling up his weapon when he has settled
himself.
He now awaits the coming of the herd, and, when they are close to the
tree, unties the spear, and holds it in readiness. When an elephant
with good tusks passes under him, he drops the spear upon the animal’s
back, the weight of the weapon causing it to penetrate deeply into the
body. Startled at the sudden pang, the elephant rushes through the
trees, trying to shake off the terrible spear, which sways about from
side to side, occasionally striking against the trunks or branches of
the trees, and so cutting its way deeper among the vital organs, until
the unfortunate animal falls from loss of blood. The hunter does not
trouble himself about chasing his victim at once. He can always track
it by its bloody traces, and knows full well that within a moderate
distance the unfortunate animal will halt, and there die, unless it is
disturbed by the presence of man, and urged to further exertions.
The reader will note the curious similarity between this mode of
elephant hunting and the Banyai method of trapping the hippopotamus,
as described on page 342. The Dôr also use lances, at least eleven
feet long, for elephant hunting, the blades measuring between two and
three feet in length. These, however, are not dropped from a tree, but
wielded by hand, the hunters surrounding the animal, and each watching
his opportunity, and driving his spear into its side when its attention
is directed toward some on the other side.
The Dôr hold in great contempt the perfect nudity which distinguishes
the Kytch and several other tribes, but no one on first entering their
villages would suppose such to be the case. The dress which the men
wear is simply a little flap of leather hanging behind them. This,
however, in their ideas constitutes dress; and when some of the Djour
people entered a Dôr village, the latter, as a mark of respect to
the visitors, turned their little aprons to the front, and so were
considered as having put on full dress.
The women use a still simpler dress. Until they are married, they
wear no dress at all; but when that event takes place, they clothe
themselves in a very simple manner. In their country is an abundance
of evergreens and creepers, and with these they form their dress, a
branch tucked into the girdle in front, and another behind, answering
all purposes of clothing. They use these leafy dresses of such a length
that they fall nearly to the ground. Ornaments, however, they admire
exceedingly, and the weight of a Dôr woman’s decorations is more than
an ordinary man would like to carry about with him for a whole day.
Heavy strings of beads are hung on their necks and tied round their
waists, the most valued beads being as large as pigeon’s eggs, and
consequently very heavy. Strings of beads also fall from their ears.
On their wrists they wear bracelets, made simply of iron bars cut to
the proper length, and bent round the wrist. Others, but of greater
dimensions, encircle the ankles; and as some of them are fully an inch
thick, and quite solid, their united weight is very considerable.
Like most African tribes, the Dôr are fond of wearing amulets, though
they do not seem to have any particular idea of their meaning, and
certainly do not attach any sanctity to them. They have a hazy idea
that the possession of a certain amulet is a safeguard against certain
dangers, but they do not trouble themselves about the _modus operandi_.
In this tribe we may notice the re-appearance of the lip ornament. In
the manner in which it is worn it resembles the “pelele” described
on page 356, but it is worn in the under instead of the upper lip.
One of these ornaments is now before me. It is cylindrical, with a
conical top, and measures three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and
exactly an inch in length. The base, which comes against the lower
teeth and gum, is nearly flat, and well polished, while the conical
top, which projects in front of the mouth, is carved very neatly with a
“cross-hatching” sort of a pattern, the effect of which is heightened
by the charring of a certain portion of it, the blackened and polished
surfaces contrasting well with the deep-red color of the wood. In order
to keep it in its place, a shallow groove runs round it. This is one of
the smaller specimens, but it is the custom of the owner to wear larger
and larger lip ornaments, until some of them contrive to force into
their lips pieces of wood three inches in circumference. Before taking
leave of the Dôr costume, it may be as well to observe that in the
Botocudo tribe of Tropical America both sexes wear a similar ornament
in their lips, and in most instances have these strange decorations
twice as large as those of the Dôr women.
The villages of the Dôr tribes are really remarkable. The houses are
neatly constructed of canes woven into a sort of basket work. The
perpendicular walls are about six feet high, and are covered by a
conical roof, the whole shape of the hut being almost exactly like
that of the lip ornament which has just been described. The reed roof
is ornamented on the exterior with pieces of wood carved into the rude
semblance of birds.
In the middle of each hut is the bedstead, and, as no cooking is done
within it, the interior of the hut is very clean, and in that respect
entirely unlike the sooty homes of the Kaffir tribes. All the cooking
is performed in a separate hut, or kitchen, and is of a rather simple
character, the chief food being a kind of porridge. The doorway is
very small, and is barricaded at night by several logs of wood laid
horizontally upon each other, and supported at each end by two posts
driven into the ground. The whole village is kept as clean as the
individual houses, and the central circus is not only swept, but kept
well watered, so as to lay the dust.
The most singular point in the Dôr village lies in the approaches
to it, which are narrow footpaths, marked out on each side by wooden
posts roughly carved into the human form. They are placed about four
feet apart, and are different in size. The one nearest the village is
the largest, while the others are much smaller, and are represented as
carrying bowls on their heads. The natives say that the first is the
chief going to a feast, and that the others are his attendants carrying
food on their heads.
Several of these wooden figures were brought to England by Mr.
Petherick, and two of the chiefs are represented on the next page. They
are about four feet in length. It may be imagined that a double row of
such figures must give a most curious aspect to the road.
“The village,” writes Mr. Petherick, “was prettily situated at the foot
of a hill, around which were two or three other villages, this forming
the entire community of a large district. From its summit a beautiful
view of the surrounding country was obtained. Surrounding the village
at a moderate distance were the unfenced gardens of the villagers, in
which cucurbits, vegetables, and seeds were grown; and beyond, to the
eastward, was a large plain of cultivated dourra fields; and southward,
at about a mile distant, a winding brook was to be seen, bordered
with superb trees and flourishing canes. The bush supplied a variety
of game, consisting of partridges, guinea-fowl, a large white boar,
gazelles, antelopes, and giraffes. Elephants and buffaloes I did not
encounter, and I was told that they only frequented the locality in the
rainy season.”
There are three forms of the guitar, or rababa, yet in neither
instrument is the neck rigid, as in the guitars and violins with which
we are all familiar. This is, however, intentional on the part of
the maker, its object being to keep the strings at a proper tension.
The mode in which it is tuned is equally simple and effective. A
ring, mostly made of the same fibre as the strings, is passed over
each neck, so that, as it is slipped up or down, the sound becomes
proportionately grave or acute. It can be thus tuned with reasonable
accuracy, as I can testify by experience, the only drawback being
that the notes cannot be altered by pressure of the fingers upon the
strings, on account of the angle which they make with the neck. Five
sounds only can be produced by this instrument, but it is worthy of
notice that one string is very much longer than the others, so that it
produces a deep tone, analogous to the “drone” in the bagpipes.
Although tolerably well-mannered to travellers with whom they were
acquainted, the Dôr are very apt to behave badly to those whom
they do not know. Mr. Petherick nearly lost his life by a sudden
and treacherous attack that was made on him by some of this tribe.
Accompanied by the friendly chief, Djau, he went to a village, and
began to purchase ivory. In spite of Djau’s presence the people were
suspicious, and became more and more insolent, asking higher prices
for every tusk, and at last trying to run off with a tusk and the
beads that had been offered in payment for it. The tusk was regained,
whereupon a sudden attack was made, and a lance hurled at Mr.
Petherick, whom it missed, but struck one of his men in the shoulder.
Three more were wounded by a volley of spears, and there was nothing
for it but to fire. One of the assailants having been wounded in the
leg, firing was stopped. On going for their donkey, who had been
brought to carry back the tusks, he was found lying dead, having been
killed by the vengeful Dôr.
Hereupon Djau recommended that the village should be sacked as a
warning, which was done, and the spoil carried home. Next day the chief
of the village came very humbly to apologize, bringing some tusks as an
equivalent for the donkey, and as a proof of good-will for the future.
So the tusks were accepted, the plunder of the village restored, and
harmony was thus established, a supplementary present of beads being
added as a seal to the bargain.
THE DJOUR.
The Djour tribe afford a remarkable instance of the influence which is
exercised over man by the peculiarities of the country in which he is
placed. Surrounded by pastoral tribes, which breed cattle and trouble
themselves but little about the cultivation of the ground, the Djour
are agriculturists, and have no cattle except goats. The sole reason
for this fact is, that the dread tsetse-fly is abundant in the land of
Djour, and consequently neither horse nor ox has a chance of life. This
terrible insect, harmless to man and to most animals, is certain death
to the horse, dog, and ox tribe.
It is very little larger than the horse-fly, and its only weapons
are a kind of lancet, which projects from its mouth, as one may see
in the gad-fly. Like the gad-fly, the tsetse only causes a temporary
irritation when it bites a human being, and the strangest thing is that
it does no harm to calves until they are weaned. It does not sting,
but, like the gnat, inserts its sharp proboscis into the skin for the
purpose of sucking the blood. After an ox has been bitten, it loses
condition, the coat starts, the muscles become flaccid, and in a short
time the animal dies, even the muscle of the heart having become so
soft that, when pinched, the fingers can be made to meet through it.
[Illustration: ORNAMENT. (See page 451.)]
[Illustration: WOMEN’S KNIVES. (See page 451.)]
[Illustration: BRACELETS. (See page 467.)]
[Illustration: WOODEN CHIEFS. (See page 448.)]
[Illustration: NEUHR HELMET. (See page 468.)]
[Illustration: SCALP LOCKS. (See page 467.)]
Yet the mule, ass, and goat enjoy a perfect immunity from this pest,
and consequently the only domesticated animal among the Djour is the
goat. The tsetse is a singularly local insect. It will swarm along one
bank of a river, and the other bank be free; or it will inhabit little
hills, or perhaps a patch of soil on level ground. Tsetse-haunted
places are well known to the natives, and it has often happened that,
when a herd of oxen has been driven through one of these dreaded spots,
not a single animal has escaped.
Being deprived of cattle, the Djour do not depend wholly upon
agriculture, but are admirable workers in iron, and by them are made
many of the weapons and polished iron ornaments which are so much
in request throughout Central Africa. Iron ore is abundant in their
country, and, after they have finished getting in their crops, the
industrious Djour set to work at their metallurgy, at which every man
is more or less an adept. After procuring a sufficient quantity of ore,
they proceed to smelt it in furnaces very ingeniously built.
“The cupolas are constructed of stiff clay, one foot thick, increasing
toward the bottom to about fourteen inches in diameter, and four
feet in height. Underneath is a small basin for the reception of the
metal, and on a level with the surface are four apertures, opposite
each other, for the reception of the blast pipes. These are made of
burnt clay, and are attached to earthen vessels about eighteen inches
in diameter and six inches in height, covered with a loose dressed
goat-skin tied tightly over them, and perforated with a few small
holes. In the centre there is a loop to contain the fingers of the
operator. A lad, sitting between two of these vessels, by a rapid
alternate vertical motion with each hand drives a current of air into
the furnace, which, charged with alternate layers of ore and charcoal,
nourished by eight of these rude bellows, emits a flame some eighteen
inches in height at the top.
“Relays of boys keep up a continual blast, and, when the basin for the
reception of the metal is nearly full, the charging of the furnace is
discontinued, and it is blown out. Through an aperture at the bottom
the greater part of the slag is withdrawn, and the temperature of the
furnace not being sufficient to reduce the metal to the fluid state, it
is mixed up with a quantity of impurities, and broken, when still warm,
into small pieces. These are subsequently submitted to the heat of a
smith’s hearth, and hammered with a huge granite boulder on a small
anvil, presenting a surface of one and a half inches square, stuck into
an immense block of wood. By this method the metal is freed from its
impurities, and converted into malleable iron of the best quality. The
slag undergoes the operations of crushing and washing, and the small
globules of iron contained in it are obtained. A crucible charged with
them is exposed to welding heat on the hearth, and its contents are
welded and purified as above.
“The iron being reduced to small malleable ingots, the manufacture of
lances, hoes, hatchets, &c., is proceeded with. These are beaten into
shape by the boulder wielded by a powerful man; and the master smith
with a hammer, handleless, like the pestle of a mortar, finishes them.
With these rude implements, the proficiency they have attained is truly
astonishing, many lances and other articles of their manufacture which
I now possess having been pronounced good specimens of workmanship for
an ordinary English smith.”
In an illustration on page 449 may be seen an example of the
workmanship of the Djour tribe. The remarkable ornament with a long
hook is an armlet, the hooked portion being passed over the arm, and
then bent, so as to retain its hold. The singular objects entitled
“Women’s knives” are good examples of the patient skill displayed by
the Djour tribe with such very imperfect tools.
These and other products of their ingenuity are dispersed throughout
several of the tribes of Central Africa, many of them being recognized
as currency, just as is the English sovereign on the Continent. As if
to illustrate the truth of the proverb, that men are always longing
for that which they do not possess, the Djours are always hankering
after beef, and in consequence buy cattle largely from their warlike
neighbors, the Dinka tribe. The tsetse prevents the Djour from keeping
the cattle just purchased, and so they only buy them in order to kill
and eat them at once.
Owing to this traffic, the Djour are recognized as the chief smiths
of Central Africa, and they can always find a market for their wares.
Consequently, they are a very prosperous tribe, as even the Dinkas
would not wish to destroy a people from whom they procure the very
weapons with which they fight; and there is not a Djour man who cannot
with ordinary industry earn enough for the purchase and maintenance of
a wife as soon as he is old enough to take one. Among themselves they
do not care particularly about wearing as ornaments the products of
their own skill, but prize beads above every other personal decoration;
and so far do they carry this predilection, that their wives are
purchased with beads, and not with goats--the only cattle which they
can breed. There is scarcely a Djour of full age who has not a wife, if
not in fact, yet in view; and so brisk is the matrimonial market, that
there is not a girl in the country above eight years of age who has not
been purchased by some one as a wife.
Tobacco is as dear to the Djour as to other African tribes, and they
are fond of smoking it in pipes of very great capacity. They have a
rather odd mode of managing their pipes. The bowl is of reddish clay,
worked on the outside into a kind of pattern like that in frosted
glass. The stem is of bamboo, and is very thick, and the junction
between the stem and the bowl is made tolerably air-tight by binding
a piece of raw hide round it. A long and narrow gourd forms the
mouthpiece, and round it is wrapped a piece of leather like that which
fastens the bowl to the stem. Lest the mouthpiece should fall off, a
string is passed round it, and the other end fastened to the lower end
of the stem.
When the pipe is used, a quantity of fine bark fibres are rolled up
into little balls, and, the gourd mouthpiece being removed, they are
thrust into it and into the stem, so that, when the pipe is lighted,
they may become saturated with tobacco oil. This fibre is not inserted
for the purpose of purifying the smoke, for the tobacco oil is thought
to be much too valuable an article to be wasted, and the fibre balls,
when thoroughly saturated, are taken out and chewed as if they were the
best pigtail tobacco.
It is thought to be a delicate attention for two friends to exchange
“quids” from each other’s pipe, and, when one person has obtained as
much tobacco oil as he cares for, he passes the quid to another, and so
on, until the flavor has all been extracted. I have in my collection
one of these pipes. It is two feet in length, and the bowl is capable
of holding a large handful of tobacco. Pipes of this description,
though differing slightly in details, prevail through the whole of
Central Africa, and especially along the east bank of the Nile. In the
splendid collection gathered by Mr. Petherick, and exhibited in London
in 1862, more than twenty such pipes were exhibited, several with horn
stems, some mounted with iron, and in one or two the bark “quids” were
still in their places. The specimen described above belonged to the
collection.