The moon was at the full, and the sky appeared as bright as at mid-day,
on the evening when we were called upon to share in the games
and mirth of the Africans. The two ladies remained in camp, there
being too much license in equatorial revelry to admit of their
presence.
The whole village at eight o'clock was summoned to the _fête_ by beat
of drum, and the largest huts were at once transformed into cafés,
where all the Bongos, with the chief at their head, set to work to
drink themselves into a fitting state for the coming festivities. The
intoxicating beverages were contained in large earthenware jars,
ranged along the walls, and from these the liquid was ladled out
wholesale, by means of small gourds and calabashes.
But presently the drinking gave place to a general outcry for the
dancing to begin. The huts were deserted and the streets of the
village crowded in proportion, and all the men, followed by the women
and children, hurried at full speed, yelling and leaping, towards a
neighbouring plain surrounded by dense thickets.
The _fête_, properly so called, now commenced by a circle being
formed round some toothless, wizened old sorcerers, who droned out a
lengthy recitative in measured, almost melancholy rhythm. The
bystanders, whose ears caught the strain at once, joined in the
chant, and the whole of the voices formed one vast, reverberating
chorus, in the midst of which, at intervals, could be heard the
howling of a dog, the cackling of hens, the crowing of cocks, the
roaring of a lion, or the shrill trumpeting of an elephant, serving
as so many incentives to the concourse to give free scope to their
talent for imitation.
As soon as the chant came to an end in a prolonged groan, there was a
renewed outcry for the dancing, and an orchestra of instrumentalists
proceeded to take up a position on the trunks of fallen trees, or any
slight vantage ground that was at hand. One performer blew with all
the force of his lungs into a gigantic wooden trumpet, decorated with
carvings representing in nearly every case a human head; another
hammered with his hands and feet at an enormous mass of wood,
hollowed out of the thickest part of a tree and covered with bullock
hide, whilst a third had in front of him the _oupaton_, or tom-tom, a
piece of brass on which he banged at intervals with a kind of rude
drum stick. The, to us, familiar Chinese bells, or handbells, were
represented by large gourds filled with pebbles, which were rattled,
without intermission, by the women and children.
Then the mob, men, women, and children, gave themselves up to a
frightful hurly-burly, a series of contortions, bounding, leaping,
throwing their arms and legs in all directions, after a fashion at
first sight positively bewildering, but in reality quite regular, and
carried out in concert. It was simply a delirium, an indescribable
frenzy.
Suddenly the orchestra ceased, every sound was hushed, and each one
remained where he was. To confusion succeeded utter silence and
complete repose.
Scarcely a moment elapsed before the drummers gave the signal again,
and the dance recommenced more wildly than ever. This goes on
sometimes for hours, even until morning and the feet of these maniacs
refuse their office. But we did not stop for the end, and towards 3.0
a.m. we made the best of our way towards our camp, feeling rather
anxious as to whether our caravan, which had taken part in the orgie,
would be in a fit state to start later on. The departure was, as it
turned out, a matter of some difficulty, for it was not until the
afternoon that we could move, and then only by dint of mingled
threats, promises, and a distribution of rewards and punishments
combined.
April 11th. To-day we met a caravan coming from the south. The drums
beat, standards were unfurled, and a regular _feu de joie_ was fired
in honour of the occasion. We contrived, nevertheless, to prevent our
escort from fraternising with the new comers, and compelled them to
content themselves with shaking hands and embracing. The leader of
the caravan, a rather disreputable looking Turk, saluted us as he
passed, a piece of politeness which we solemnly returned.
Notwithstanding our coolness towards the Turk and his people, the
meeting was a relief from the monotony of the route. It was like
being out at sea, on a long voyage, and coming across a vessel
appearing in the horizon, growing larger and larger by degrees,
passing, hoisting her flag, growing smaller again, and, finally,
disappearing from view.
April 13th. After passing, yesterday, through a district where game,
both large and small, was plentiful, we have, to-day, left the low
country and have gone up hill to about five hundred feet above our
former level. On our way Nassar came up to us, and, pointing to the
summit of a mountain lying to the south-west, said—
"That is the Mbala-Nguia, which separates the Bongo territory from
that of the Niam-Niam. To-morrow you will set foot on the soil of
that new tribe, and you will very soon be in a position to judge of
the correctness of the information I have given you about the man of
whom you are in search."
At last, then, we are on the point of entering the country visited by
so few Europeans. At length we are in the midst of the famous race,
supposititiously endowed with tails, about whom so many lies have
been told, and amongst the man-eaters, who have been described to us
as being so terrible.