THE ASHIRA.
APPEARANCE AND DRESS OF THE NATIVES -- A MATRIMONIAL SQUABBLE --
NATURAL CUNNING OF THE ASHIRA -- VARIOUS MODES OF PROCURING FOOD --
NATIVE PLANTATIONS -- THE CHIEF’S “KOMBO,” OR SALUTATION -- ASHIRA
ARCHITECTURE -- NATIVE AGRICULTURE -- SLAVERY AMONG THE ASHIRA --
MEDICINE AND SURGERY -- AN “HEROIC” TREATMENT -- SUPERSTITIONS --
HOW TO CATCH GAME -- TRIAL OF THE ACCUSED -- THE ORDEAL OF THE RING
-- THE ASHIRA FAREWELL -- FUNERAL CEREMONIES -- DEATH AND BURIAL OF
OLENDA.
The tribe next in order is the Ashira. These people are not so nomad
in their habits as the Bakalai, and are therefore more concentrated
in one locality. They certainly are apt to forsake a village on some
great occasion, but they never move to any great distance, and are not
so apt to take flight as the Bakalai. The Ashira are a singularly fine
race of men. Their color is usually black, but individuals among them,
especially those of high rank, are of a comparatively light hue, being
of a dark, warm bronze rather than black. The features of the Ashira
are tolerably good.
The dress of the natives has its distinguishing points. The men and
married women wear the grass-cloth robe, and the former are fond of
covering their heads with a neat cap made of grass. So much stress do
they lay on this article of apparel, that the best way of propitiating
an Ashira man is to give him one of the scarlet woollen caps so
affected by fishermen and yachtsmen of our country. There is nothing
which he prizes so highly as this simple article, and even the king
himself will think no sacrifice too great provided that he can obtain
one of those caps.
The men also carry a little grass bag, which they sling over one
shoulder, and which is ornamented with a number of pendent strings
or thongs. It answers the purpose of a pocket, and is therefore very
useful where the clothing is of so very limited a character. Both sexes
wear necklaces, bracelets, and anklets, made of thick copper bars, and
they also display some amount of artistic taste in the patterns with
which they dye their robes.
The strangest part of Ashira fashion is, that the females wear no
clothing of any kind until they are married. They certainly tie a small
girdle of grass cloth round the waists, but it is only intended for
ornament, not for dress. As is usual in similar cases, the whole of
the toilet is confined to the dressing of the hair and painting of the
body. The woolly hair is teased out with a skewer, well rubbed with
oil and clay, and worked up until it looks something like a cocked
hat, rising high on the top of the head and coming to a point before
and behind. Mostly, the hair is kept in its position by a number of
little sticks or leaves, which are passed through it, and serve as
the framework on which it rests. Filing the teeth is practised by the
Ashira, though very few of them carry the practice to such an extent as
to reduce the teeth to points.
Among the West Africans, the women are not so badly treated as in the
south, and indeed, are considered nearly as the equals of men. They
can hold property of their own, and are quite aware of the importance
which such an arrangement gives them. Máyolo, one of the chiefs, had
a most absurd quarrel with his favorite wife, a young woman of twenty
years of age, and remarkable for her light-colored skin and hazel eyes.
She had contrived either to lose or waste some of his tobacco, and he
threatened to punish her by taking away the pipe, which, among these
tribes, belongs equally to the husband and wife. She retorted that he
could not do so, because the plantain stem of the pipe was cut from one
of her own trees, and if he quarrelled with her, she would take away
the stem, and not allow him to cut another from the plantain trees,
which belonged to her and not to him. The quarrel was soon made up, but
the fact that it took place at all shows the position which the women
hold in domestic affairs.
As is often the case with savages, the Ashira exhibits a strange
mixture of character. Ignorant though he may be, he is possessed of
great natural cunning. No man can lie with so innocent a face as the
“noble savage,” and no one is more capable of taking care of his own
interests. The Ashira porters were a continual source of trouble to Du
Chaillu, and laid various deep plans for increase of wages. Those of
one clan refused to work in company with those of another, and, on the
principle of trades’ unions, struck work unanimously if a man belonging
to another clan were permitted to handle a load.
Having thus left the traveller with all his packages in the forest,
their next plan was to demand higher wages before they would consent
to re-enter the service. In the course of the palaver which ensued on
this demand, a curious stroke of diplomacy was discovered. The old men
appeared to take his part, declared that the demands of the young men
were exorbitant, and aided him in beating them down, asking higher
wages for themselves as a percentage on their honorable conduct. When
the affair was settled, and the men paid, the young men again struck
work, saying that it was not fair for the old men, who had no burdens
to carry, to have higher wages than themselves, and demanding that all
should be paid alike. In course of investigation it was discovered that
this was a deeply-laid scheme, planned by both parties in order to
exact higher wages for the whole.
These people can be at the same time dishonest and honorable,
hard-hearted and kind, disobedient and faithful. When a number of
Ashira porters were accompanying Du Chaillu on his journey, they
robbed him shamefully, by some unfortunate coincidence stealing just
those articles which could not be of the least use to them, and the
loss of which would be simply irreparable. That they should steal his
provisions was to be expected, but why they should rob him of his
focussing glasses and black curtains of the camera was not so clear.
The cunning of the Ashira was as remarkable as their dishonesty. All
the villages knew the whole circumstances. They knew who were the
thieves, what was stolen, and where the property had been hidden, but
the secret was so well kept that not even a child gave the least hint
which would lead to the discovery of the stolen goods.
Yet when, in the course of the journey, they were reduced to
semi-starvation, on account of the negro habit of only carrying
two or three days’ provision, the men happened to kill a couple of
monkeys, and offered them both to the leader whom they had been so
remorselessly plundering. Even when he refused to take them to himself,
they insisted on his retaining the lion’s share, and were as pleasant
and agreeable as if no differences had existed.
Next day, however, those impulsive and unreflecting creatures changed
their conduct again. They chose to believe, or say they believed,
that the expedition would come to harm, and tried to get their pay
in advance, for the purpose of running off with it. When this very
transparent device was detected, they openly avowed their intention
of running away, and threatened to do so even without their pay.
Fortunately, the dreaded name of Quengueza had its effect on them, and,
as it was represented to them that war would certainly be made on the
Ashira by that chief if they dared to forsake the white traveller whom
he had committed to their charge, they resumed their burdens. In the
course of the day supplies arrived, and all was peace again.
The reason why the natives dislike taking much food with them is that
the plantains which form the usual rations are very heavy, and the men
would rather trust to the chance of coming on a village than trouble
themselves with extra loads. However, there are the koola and mpegai
nuts, on which the natives usually live while travelling in the nut
season.
The koola is a singularly useful nut. It grows in such abundance on
the tree, that when the nuts are ripe, the whole crown of the koola
tree appears to be a single mass of fruit. It is round, about as
large as a cherry, and the shell is so hard that it has to be broken
between two stones. Thirty of these nuts are considered sufficient for
a meal, even for a native African, and, as a general rule, the trees
are so plentiful that the natives do not trouble themselves about
carrying food in the nut season. M. du Chaillu, however, was singularly
unfortunate, for he contrived to miss the koola trees on his journey,
and hence the whole party suffered great privation.
The wild swine know the value of the koola nuts as well as the natives,
and in the season become quite fat and sleek.
The mpegai nut is round, like the koola, but the kernel is three-lobed.
It is so full of oil that it is formed into cakes by the simple
operation of pounding the kernel, folding the paste in leaves, and
smoking them over a wood fire. When thus treated, it can be kept for
a considerable time, and is generally eaten with pepper and salt, if
these can be obtained. Neither the koola nor the mpegai are cultivated
by the improvident natives.
About ten miles from Olenda’s residence was a village belonging to
a chief named Angouka, and remarkable for the manner in which the
plantain was cultivated. In one plantation there were about thirty
thousand trees, set about five feet apart. Each tree produced five
or six shoots, but the cultivators cut away all but two or three of
the finest, in accordance with true arboricultural principles. On an
average, thirty pounds’ weight of fruit were grown on each tree, and
the natives managed so as to keep up a tolerably constant supply by
planting several varieties of the tree, some bearing fruit in six
months after planting, some ten months, and others not until eighteen
months, the last being the best and most fertile.
While describing the journeys of certain travellers, mention is
frequently made of the porters and their loads. The burdens are
carried in rather a peculiar manner. The men have a sort of oblong
basket, called “otaitai,” which is made of canes woven closely along
the bottom, and loosely along the sides. The elasticity of the sides
enables it to accommodate itself to various-sized loads, as they can
be drawn together if the loads should be small, or expanded to admit
a larger burden. Three broad straps, made of rushes, are fixed to the
otaitai, one passing over each shoulder of the porter and the other one
over his forehead.
Some of the ceremonies employed by the Ashira are very curious. Each
chief has a sort of salutation, called “Kombo,” which he addresses to
every one of importance whom he meets for the first time. For example,
when M. du Chaillu met Olenda, the head chief of a sub-tribe of the
Ashira, a singular scene took place. After waiting for some time, he
heard the ringing of the “kando” or sacred bell, which is the emblem
of royalty in this land, and which is only sounded on occasions of
ceremony.
Presently the old chief appeared--a man of venerable aspect, and very
old indeed. His woolly hair was perfectly white, his body bent almost
double with age, and his face one mass of wrinkles. By way of adding
to the beauty of his countenance, he had covered one side of his face
with red and the other with white stripes. He was so old that he
was accompanied by many of his children, all old, white-headed, and
wrinkled men. The natives held him in great respect, believing that he
had a powerful fetish against death.
As soon as he had recovered from the sight of a clothed man with
straight hair, steady eyes, and a white face, he proceeded to make a
speech which, when translated, was as follows: “I have no bowels. I
am like the Ovenga River: I cannot be cut in two. But also, I am like
the Niembai and Ovenga rivers, which unite together. Thus my body is
united, and nothing can divide it.” This address was rather puzzling
because no sense could be made from it, but the interpreter explained
that this was merely the kombo, and that sense was not a necessary
ingredient in it.
According to the etiquette of the country, after Olenda had made his
salutation, he offered his presents, consisting of three goats, twenty
fowls, twenty bunches of plantains, several baskets of ground-nuts,
some sugar-cane, and two slaves. That the last-mentioned articles
should be declined was a most astonishing phenomenon to the Ashira.
This mode of salutation is finely represented in an engraving on the
next page.
The villages of the Ashira are singularly neat and cleanly, a most
remarkable fact, considering the propensity to removal on the death of
an inhabitant. They consist mostly of one long street, the houses being
built of bark, and having the ground cleared at the back of the houses
as well as in the front,--almost the only example of such industry in
this part of Africa. Paths invariably lead from one village to another.
The Ashira are a tolerably industrious tribe, and cultivate the land
around their villages, growing tobacco, plantains, yams, sugar-cane,
and other plants with much success. The tobacco leaves, when plucked
and dried, are plaited together in a sort of flat rope, and are then
rolled up tightly, so that a considerable quantity of tobacco is
contained in a very small space.
Of course, they drink the palm wine, and, as the method of procuring
this universally favorite beverage is rather peculiar, it will be
briefly explained. The native, taking with him an empty calabash or
two, and a kind of auger, climbs the tree by means of a hoop made of
pliant creepers; tying the hoop loosely round the tree, he gets into
it, so that his back is pressed against the hoop and his feet against
the tree. By a succession off “hitches,” he ascends the tree, much as a
chimney-sweep of the old times used to ascend the wide chimneys, which
are now superseded by the narrow, machine-swept flues, lifting the hoop
at every hitch, and so getting up the tree with wonderful rapidity.
When he has reached the top, he takes the auger out of the little bag
which is hung round his neck, and bores a deep hole, just below the
crown of the palm. A leaf is then plucked, rolled up in a tubular form,
and one end inserted into the hole, the calabash being hung just below
the other end. During the night the sap runs freely into the calabash,
several quarts being procured in a single night. In the morning it is
removed and a fresh calabash substituted. Even in its fresh state the
juice is a very pleasant drink, but after standing for twenty-four
hours it ferments, and then becomes extremely intoxicating, the process
of fermentation being generally hastened by adding the remains of the
previous day’s brewing. The supply of juice decreases gradually, and,
when the native thinks that the tree will produce no more, he plugs
up the hole with clay to prevent insects from building their nests
in it, and so killing the valuable tree. Three weeks is the average
juice-producing time, and if a tree be forced beyond this point it is
apt to die.
[Illustration: (1.) ASHIRA FAREWELL. (See page 502.)]
[Illustration: (2.) OLENDA’S SALUTATION TO AN ISHOGO CHIEF. (See page
498.)]
Besides the tobacco, the Ashira cultivate a plant called the liamba,
_i. e._ _Cannabis_, or Indian hemp, either the same species from which
the far-famed haschish of the East is made, or very closely allied
to it. They always choose a rich and moist soil on the sunny side
of a hill, as the plant requires both heat and moisture to attain
perfection. The natives seem to prefer their liamba even to the
tobacco; but there are some doubts whether both these plants have not
been imported, the tobacco from America and the liamba from Asia, or
more likely from north-western Africa. Du Chaillu says that the Ashira
and Apingi are the only tribes who cultivate it. Its effects upon the
smokers are terrible, causing them to become for the time insane,
rushing into the woods in a frantic state, quarrelling, screaming, and
at last falling down in convulsions. Permanent madness is often the
result of over-indulgence in this extraordinary luxury.
The above-mentioned traveller met with an idiot among the Ashira.
Contrary to the usual development of idiocy among the Africans, the man
was lively and jocular, jumping about with all kinds of strange antics,
and singing joyous songs. The other inhabitants were very fond of him,
and treated him well, and with a sort of reverence, as something above
their comprehension. Idiots of the dull kind are treated harshly, and
the usual mode of getting rid of them is to sell them as slaves, and so
to foist them upon the purchaser before he learns the quality of his
bargain.
Slavery exists among the Ashira as among other tribes, but is conducted
in so humane a character that it has little connection with the system
of slavery as the word is generally understood. Olenda, for example,
had great numbers of slaves, and kept them in separate settlements,
each consisting of two or three hundred, each such settlement having
its chief, himself a slave. One of these slave chiefs was an Ashango,
a noble-looking man, with several wives and plenty of children. He
exercised quite a patriarchal sway over the people under his charge,
and neither he nor the slaves seemed to consider their situation at all
degrading, calling themselves the children of Olenda.
This village was remarkably neat, and the houses were better built than
those of the Ashira generally. The inhabitants had cleared a large
tract of ground, and covered it with the plantains, sugar-canes, and
ground-nuts, all of which were thriving wonderfully, and had a most
picturesque appearance when contrasted with the wild beauties of the
surrounding forest. Most of these slave families had been inherited by
Olenda, and many of them had never known any other kind of life.
Medicine and surgery are both practised among the tribes that live
along the Rembo, and in a very singular manner. The oddest thing about
the practitioner is, that the natives always try to procure one from
another tribe, so that an Ashango patient has a Bakalai doctor, and
_vice versa_. The African prophet has little honor in his own country,
but, the farther he goes, the more he is respected. Evil spirits that
have defied all the exorcisms of home-bred prophets are sure to quail
before the greater powers of a sorcerer who lives at a distance; while
the same man who has failed at home is tolerably sure to succeed abroad.
The natives have one grand panacea for all kinds of disorders, the same
being used for both lumbago and leprosy. This consists of scarifying
the afflicted part with a knife, making a great number of slight cuts,
and then rubbing in a mixture of pounded capsicum and lime juice. The
agony caused by this operation is horrible, and even the blunt nerves
of an African can barely endure the pain. If a native is seized with
dysentery, the same remedy is applied internally, and the patient
will sometimes drink half a tumblerful for a dose. There is some
ground for their faith in the capsicum, for it really is beneficial
in the West African climate, and if a traveller feels feverish he can
generally relieve the malady by taking plenty of red pepper with his
food. Sometimes, when the disease will not yield to the lime juice
and pepper, stronger remedies are tried. M. du Chaillu saw a curious
instance of the manner in which a female practitioner exercised her art
on Máyolo, whose quarrel with his wife has already been mentioned.
The patient was seated on the ground, with a genet skin stretched
before him, and the woman was kneading his body with her hands,
muttering her incantations in a low voice. When she had finished this
manipulation, she took a piece of the alumbi chalk, and drew a broad
stripe down the middle of his chest and along each arm. Her next
process was to chew a quantity of roots and seeds, and to spirt it over
the body, directing her heaviest shots at the affected parts. Lastly,
she took a bunch of dried grasses, twisted them into a kind of torch,
lighted it, and applied the flame to various parts of the body and
limbs, beginning at the feet and ending with the head. When the torch
had burned itself out, she dashed the glowing end against the patient’s
body, and so ended her operations. Máyolo sat perfectly still during
the proceedings, looking on with curiosity, and only wincing slightly
as the flame scorched his skin. The Africans have a great faith in the
efficacy of fire, and seem to think that, when it has been applied, it
effectually prevents a recurrence of the disease.
The worship of the Ashira is idolatry of the worst description. One
of their ongaras, or idols, named the Housekeeper, was purchased by
Du Chaillu. It was, of course, hideously ugly, represented a female
figure, and was kept in the house of a chief for the purpose of
protecting property. The natives were horribly afraid of it, and, so
long as the Housekeeper was in her place, the owner might leave his
goods in perfect security, knowing that not a native would dare to
touch them.
Skilful hunters as they are, they never start on the chase without
preparing themselves by sundry charms. They hang all kinds of strange
fetishes about their persons, and cut the backs of their hands for
luck, the flowing blood having, according to their ideas, a wonderful
efficacy. If they can rub a little powdered sulphur into the cuts, the
power of the charm is supposed to be doubled, and any man who has thus
prepared himself never misses his aim when he shoots. Painting the
face red is also a great assistance in hunting; and, in consequence of
these strange beliefs, a party of natives just starting for the chase
presents a most absurd appearance.
Along the river Rembo are certain sacred spots, on which the natives
think themselves bound to land and dance in honor of the spirit. In
one place there is a ceremony analogous to that of “crossing the line”
in our own vessels. When any one passes the spot for the first time,
he is obliged to disembark, to chant a song in praise of the local
deity, to pluck a bough from a tree and plant it in the mud. When Du
Chaillu passed the spot, he was requested to follow the usual custom,
but refused, on the ground of disbelief in polytheism. As usual, the
natives admitted his plea as far as he was concerned. He was a great
white man, and one God was enough for the rich and wise white men. But
black men were poor and ignorant, and therefore wanted plenty of gods
to take care of them.
Many superstitions seem to be connected with trees. There is one
magnificent tree called the “oloumi,” perhaps the largest species that
is to be found in Western Africa. The bark of the oloumi is said to
possess many healing qualities, and, if a man washes himself all over
with a decoction of the bark before starting on a trading expedition,
he will be sure to make good bargains. Consequently, the oloumi trees
(which are rather scarce) are always damaged by the natives, who tear
great strips of bark from the trunk for the purpose of making this
magic decoction.
A rather remarkable ordeal is in use among the Ashira,--remarkable
because it is so exactly like the ordeals of the Middle Ages.
A Bakalai canoe had been injured, and a little boy, son to Aquilai,
a far-famed Bakalai sorcerer, said that the damage had been done by
one of Quengueza’s men. Of course the man denied the accusation, and
called for the ordeal, and, as the matter concerned the Bakalai, an
Ashira wizard was summoned, according to the usual custom. He said that
“the only way to make the truth appear was by the trial of the ring
boiled in oil.” Hereupon the Bakalai and the Goumbi (_i. e._ Camma) men
gathered together, and the trial was at once made.
“The Ashira doctor set three little billets of bar wood in the ground,
with their ends together, then piled some smaller pieces between, until
all were laid as high as the three pieces. A native pot half full of
palm oil was set upon the wood, and the oil was set on fire. When it
burned up brightly, a brass ring from the doctor’s hand was cast into
the pot. The doctor stood by with a little vase full of grass, soaked
in water, of which he threw in now and then some bits. This made the
oil burn up afresh. At last all was burnt out, and now came the trial.
The accuser, the little boy, was required to take the ring out of the
pot. He hesitated, but was pushed on by his father. The people cried
out, ‘Let us see if he lied or told truth.’ Finally he put his hand in,
seized the redhot ring, but quickly dropped it, having severely burned
his fingers. At this there was a shout, ‘He lied! He lied!’ and the
Goumbi man was declared innocent.”
The reader will remember that when Du Chaillu visited the Ashira, he
was received by the wonderful old chief Olenda, whose salutation was
of so extraordinary a character. The mode in which he dismissed his
guests was not less curious. Gathering his old and white-haired sons
round him, Olenda addressed the travellers, wishing them success, and
uttering a sort of benediction. He then took some sugar-cane, bit a
piece of the pith out of it, chewed it, and spat a small portion into
the hand of each of the travellers, muttering at the same time some
words to the effect that he hoped that all things would go pleasantly
with them, and be sweet as the breath which he had blown on their
hands. The reader will find this “Farewell” illustrated on page 499.
Advanced as was his age, he lived for some years longer, until he
succumbed to the small-pox in common with many of his relatives and
people. The circumstances attending his death and burial were very
characteristic of the people.
First Olenda’s head wife died of it, and then the disease spread with
frightful rapidity through the district, the whole of the chief’s wives
being taken with it, and Mpoto, his nephew and heir, dying after a
very short illness. Then Olenda himself took the disease. Day after
day the poor old man’s plaintive voice was heard chanting his song of
grief at the pestilence which had destroyed his clan, and one morning
he complained of fever and thirst, the sure signs of the disease. On
the third day afterward Olenda was dead, having previously exhorted the
people that if he died they were not to hold the white man responsible
for his death. The exhortation was needful, as they had already begun
to accuse him of bringing the small-pox among them.
His body was disposed of in the usual Ashira manner. It was taken to
an open place outside the village, dressed in his best clothes, and
seated on the earth, surrounded with various articles of property, such
as chests, plates, jugs, cooking utensils, pipes, and tobacco. A fire
was also made near him, and kept burning for several weeks. As the body
was carried to the place of sepulture, the people broke out in wild
plaintive cries, addressing the deceased, and asking him why he left
his people. Around him were the bones of many other chiefs who had
preceded him to the spirit-world; and as the Ashira do not bury their
dead, but merely leave them on the surface of the ground, it may be
imagined that the place presented a most dismal aspect.
For several days after Olenda’s death the people declared that they had
seen their deceased chief walking among them, and saying that he had
not left them entirely, but would guard and watch over them, and would
return occasionally to see how they were going on.