Stories of the Gorilla Country

CHAPTER X

After we reached Ndiayai, I went back to my little hut, and found everything I had left there. I had hidden my powder and shot in different places, and had dug holes in which to hide my beads.

The news had spread among the surrounding cannibal villages that the spirit, as they called me, was still in the village of Ndiayai, and the people flocked to see me. Among those who came to see me, was a chief of the name of Oloko. He gave me the long war knife, of which you have seen a drawing, and explained to me how it had several times gone right through a man.

Mbéné went away for a while, and left me entirely alone with these cannibals. During his absence I studied the habits of these strange people; and you may be sure that wherever I went I kept my eyes wide open.

By the way, I see I have omitted to give a description of the town of King Ndiayai. It was a very large town, composed of a single street. When I say a large town, I do not mean, of course, that it could bear any comparison as to size with London, Paris, or New York. I mean that it was a large town for this part of Africa. It contained five or six hundred men. The houses were quite small, and were all made of the bark of trees; none of them had windows. They were nearly all of the same size.

Strange to say, these Fans seemed to be very fond of music, and very funny instruments they make use of. To hear some of their music would make you laugh. They have not the slightest idea of what we consider harmony in sound; but they evidently have a great liking for music after their own notion. It is very much the same with their dancing. They have not the slightest idea of the dances in use with us, such as waltzes, galops, polkas, or quadrilles; and I am sure if they were to see us dancing in our fashion, they would laugh quite as much as you would laugh if you could see them capering in their uncouth style.

Like all the savage tribes of Africans, they are very fond of the tom-tom, or drum. Those drums are of different sizes, but many are from four to six feet in length, and about ten inches in diameter at one end, but only six or seven at the other. The wood is hollowed out quite thin, and skins of animals are stretched tightly over the ends. The drummer holds the tom-tom slantingly between his legs; and, with two sticks, he beats furiously upon the larger end of the drum, which is held uppermost. Sometimes they beat upon it with their hands. The people form a circle round the tom-tom, and dance and sing, keeping time with it. They often invited me to hear them.

But now I am going to speak to you of a far more curious instrument. It is called by these cannibals the handja; and I never saw it except among their tribes.

Ndiayai was very fond of hearing the handja, and I often went to his shed to hear someone play upon it. Sometimes, on these occasions, Ndiayai would come out surrounded by Queen Mashumba and some of his other wives, and listen for an hour or two to the music of the handja.

I give you a representation of the handja (see p. 78), so you will understand better when I describe it to you.

It consists of a light reed frame, about three feet long, and eighteen inches wide, in which are set, and securely fastened, a number of hollow gourds. The handja I saw contained seven gourds. These gourds are covered by strips of a hard, red wood, found in the forest. These gourds and cylinders, as you see, are of different sizes, so graduated that they form a regular series of notes. Each gourd has a little hole which is covered with a skin thinner than parchment. And what kind of skin do you think it was? It was the skin of the very large spider which abounds in that country, and from which I should not care to receive a bite, it is so poisonous.

The performer sits down, with the frame across his knees, and strikes the strips lightly with a stick. There are two sticks, one of hard wood, the other of much softer wood. The instrument is played on the same principle as a chime of bells, or an instrument used in France, and which, perhaps, some of you have seen, composed of a series of glasses. The tone of the handja is very clear and good, and though their tunes were rude, they played them with considerable skill.

The Fans work iron better than any tribe I met with. They are very good blacksmiths. Their warlike habits have made iron a very necessary article to them. It is very plentiful in their mountainous country.

Before you is a picture of two Fan blacksmiths. Look at the curious bellows they have. It is made of two short, hollow cylinders of wood, surmounted by skins, very well fitted on, and having an appropriate valve for letting in the air. As you see, the bellows-blower is on his knees, moving down these coverings with great rapidity. There are two small wooden pipes, connected with two iron tubes which go into the fire.

The anvil, as you see in the picture, is a solid piece of iron. The sharp end is stuck into the ground; and the blacksmith sits alongside his anvil, and beats his iron with a singular-looking hammer, clumsy in form, and with no handle; in fact it is merely made of a heavy piece of iron.

The blacksmiths sometimes spend many days in making a battle-axe, knife or spear. They make, also, their own cooking utensils and water-jugs. These are of the shape you see in the picture before you. They also make their own pipes, for they are great smokers. Some of their pipes are not at all ungraceful in shape.

Besides the water-jug, they frequently use the calabash, as a vessel to carry water in; and some of their calabashes are really pretty, and very nicely ornamented. Some of the spoons, with which they eat their human broth, are very beautiful. They are made of various woods, and sometimes of ivory.

It is quite sickening to think what horrible people these Fans are! Such inveterate cannibals are they, that they even eat the poor wretches who die of disease. As I was talking to the king one day, some Fans brought in a dead body, which they had bought or bartered for, in a neighbouring town, and which was to be divided among them. I could see that the man had died of some disease; for the body was very lean. They came round it with their knives; and Ndiayai left me to superintend the distribution. I could not stand this; and when I saw them getting ready, I left the spot, and went to my hut. Afterwards, I could hear them growing noisy over the division of their horrid spoil.

In fact, the Fans seem to be perfect ghouls. Those who live far in the interior practise unblushingly their horrid custom of eating human flesh. It appears they do not eat the dead of their own family, but sell the corpse to some other clan, or make an agreement that when one of their number dies they will return the body in exchange.

Until I saw these things I could not believe a story I had often heard related among the Mpongwe tribe, which is as follows: A party of Fans once came down to the seashore to view the ocean. While there, they actually stole a freshly-buried body from the cemetery, and cooked and ate it. Another body was taken by them and conveyed into the woods, where they cut it up, and smoked the flesh. These acts created a great excitement among the Mpongwes.

But you must not think that the Fans are continually eating human flesh. They eat it when they can get it, but not every day. They kill no one on purpose to be eaten.

One day Ndiayai took me to an Osheba town, the king of which tribe was his friend; and let me tell you that the Oshebas were also great man-eaters, like the Fans, whom they greatly resemble in appearance. The chief of that Osheba village was called Bienbakay.

The Fans are the handsomest and most resolute-looking set of negroes I have ever seen in the interior. Eating human flesh does not seem to disagree with them, though I have since seen other Fan tribes whose men had not the fine appearance of these mountaineers. Here, as everywhere else, the character of the country doubtless has much to do with the matter of bodily health and growth. These cannibals were living among the mountains, and had come from still higher mountain regions, and this accounts for their being so robust and hardy.

The strangest thing in connection with the Fans, next to their hideous cannibalism, is their constant encroachments upon the land westward. Year by year they have been advancing nearer to the sea. Town after town has been settled by them on the banks of the Gaboon river. In fact, they seem to be a conquering race, driving every other tribe before them.

The colour of these people is dark brown rather than black. They feed much upon manioc and the plantain. They have also two or three kinds of yams, splendid sugar-cane, and squashes, all of which they cultivate with considerable success. Manioc seemed to be the favourite food. Enormous quantities of squashes are raised, chiefly for the seeds, which, when pounded and prepared in their fashion, are much prized by them, and I confess I relished this food myself. At a certain season, when the squash is ripe, their villages seem covered with the seeds, which everybody spreads out to dry. When dried they are packed in leaves, and placed over the fireplaces in the smoke, to keep off an insect which also feeds upon them. They are all suspended by a cord, for, besides being infested by insects, they are subject to the depredations of mice and rats, both of which are fond of them.

The process of preparation is very tedious. A portion of the seeds is boiled, and each seed is divested of its skin; then the mass of pulp is put into a rude wooden mortar and pounded, a vegetable oil being mixed with it before it is cooked.

While on the subject of the food of the cannibals, I ought to mention that they do not sell the bodies of their chiefs, kings, or great men; these receive burial, and remain undisturbed. It is probable also that they do not eat the corpses of people who die of special diseases.

CHAPTER XI

On my way to the seashore from the cannibal country, I had a good deal of trouble. I had taken quite another route to come back; Mbéné and his people left me on the banks of a river called the Noya, at the village of a chief called Wanga. From there I pushed my way towards Yoongoolapay, a village, whose chief is called Alapay. But before reaching that place, we came one evening to a village called Ezongo. The inhabitants, seeing our heavy loads, turned out with the greatest amount of enthusiasm to receive me. Their ardour cooled somewhat when they learned the contents of my packages, for they were the birds and animals I had collected. The rascally chief, thinking I must place a great value on things I had gone so far to get, determined to detain me till I paid a heavy price to get away; and for a while things looked as if I should have a good deal of trouble. The king, urged on by his people, who seemed to be a greedy set of rascals, insisted on his price, which would have left me empty-handed.

At last my Mbicho guides from the Noya tried to settle the matter. They were wise enough to get the king to come to me with them alone. I gave the rascal a coat and an old shirt, and I told him, what was literally true, that I was very poor, and could not pay what his people wanted. After this palaver he went out at once and harangued the turbulent extortioners.

So I passed on safely to the village of my old friend, King Alapay, whom I had known before, and who was very glad to see me again. He asked me to stay some days; and being really worn out with constant exposure, much anxiety, and frequent annoyance, I determined to do so. His village is charmingly situated upon a high hill, which overlooks the surrounding country, and has a beautiful stream skirting its base. Moreover, I found the people very kind, peaceable, and hospitable.

A considerable number of independent Mbicho villages lay within a circuit of a few miles, the inhabitants of which lived in great harmony with one another, having prudently intermarried to such a degree that they really constitute a large family. I was made welcome among them all, and spent some very pleasant days in hunting with these kind-hearted people, and particularly in that kind of sport called by them asheza, or net-hunting, a practice very common among the bakalai, who called it ashinga.

This singular sport is very much practised in this part of Africa; and, as it is generally successful, it is a local amusement, and brings out the best traits of the natives. I was always very fond of it.

The ashinga nets are generally made of the fibres of the bark of a kind of tree, which are twisted into stout cords. They are from sixty to eighty feet long, and four to five feet high; and every well-to-do village owns at least one. But, as few villages have enough nets to make a great spread, it generally happens that several unite in a grand hunt, and divide the proceeds, the game caught in any particular net falling to the share of its owners.

The first day we went out, the people of half a dozen villages met together at an appointed place, the men of each bringing their nets. Then we set out for a spot about ten miles off, where they had a clearing in the dense woods, which had been used before, and was one of their hunting-grounds. We moved along in silence, so as not to alarm the animals which might be near our ground. The dogs – for dogs are used in this hunt – were kept still, and close together.

Finally, we arrived on the ground, and the work of spreading the toils began. Each party stretched a single net, tying it up by creepers to the lower branches of trees. As all worked in the same direction, and each took care to join his net to that of his neighbour, in a very short time we had a line of netting running in a wide half circle, and at least half a mile long.

This done, a party went out on each side, to guard against the chance of escape, and the rest of us were ready to beat the bush. We started at about a mile from the nets, and, standing about fifty yards from each other, we advanced gradually, shouting and making all the noise we could, at the same time keeping our arms in readiness to shoot or spear down anything which might come in our way.

Though this very spot had been frequently used for net-hunting, and was therefore better cleared than the neighbouring woods, yet we were obliged to proceed almost step by step. Nearly every native carried, besides his gun, a heavy cutlass or bill, with which it was necessary literally to hew out a way, the vines and creepers making a network which only the beasts of the forest could glide through without trouble.

As we advanced, so did the men that guarded the flanks; and thus our party gradually closed round the prey. Presently we began to hear shouts, but we could see nothing; and I could only hold my gun in readiness and pray that my neighbours might not shoot me by mistake; for they are fearfully reckless when on a chase.

The dogs had for some time been let loose. At last we came in sight of the nets. We had caught a gazelle of very minute size, called ncheri. It is a very graceful little animal, and would make a pretty pet, though I have never seen one tamed. A large antelope also was brought to bay, and shot before I came up; and another antelope, being shot at and missed, rushed forward and got entangled in the net.

Having drawn this cover, we gathered up the nets and went off with the dogs, who enjoyed the sport vastly, to try another place. After walking about three-quarters of an hour we again spread our nets. Here we had better luck, catching a considerable number of antelopes, gazelles, and some smaller animals. It was pretty busy work for us. Nearly all the animals got very much entangled, and the more they tried to get through the nets the more they became bewildered.

Before breaking up, all the game caught was laid together, that all might see it. And now I had an opportunity to notice the curious little sharp-eared dogs, about a foot high, which had been so useful in driving the animals into our toils. They stood looking at their prizes with eager and hungry eyes. These dogs often go and hunt for themselves; and it is no unusual thing for half-a-dozen dogs to drive an antelope to the neighbourhood of their village, when their barking arouses the hunters, who come out and kill their quarry.

It was almost dark when we returned to the village of Alapay. One antelope was put aside for me, being a peculiar species which I wanted to stuff; and the rest of the meat was immediately divided. The villagers were delighted at our luck. We were all very hungry, and cooking began at once. I could hardly wait for the dinner, which was one worthy of an emperor's palate. It consisted of plantain, cooked in various ways, and venison of the tenderest sort, stewed in lemon-juice, and afterwards roasted on charcoal.

I was glad to go to bed early, for I felt very tired. I had travelled during the day very nearly thirty miles.

But I had scarcely got sound asleep when I was fairly turned out of the house by a furious attack of the Bashikonay ants. They were already upon me when I jumped up, and I was bitten by them terribly. I ran out into the street, and called for help and torches. The natives came out, the lights were struck, and presently I was relieved. But now we found that the whole village was attacked. A great army of ants was pouring in on us, attracted doubtless by the meat in the houses, which they had smelt afar off. My unfortunate antelope had probably brought them to my door. All hands had to turn out to defend themselves. We built little cordons of fires, which kept them away from places they had not entered, and in this way protected our persons from their attacks. We scattered hot ashes and boiling water right and left; and towards morning, having eaten everything they could get at, they left us in peace. As was to be expected, my antelope was literally eaten up – not a morsel left.

The vast number, the sudden appearance, and the ferocity of these frightful creatures never ceased to astonish me. On this occasion they had come actually in millions. The antelope on which they fed was a vast mass of living ants, which we could not approach; and it was only when many fires were lighted that they were forced from their onward and victorious course, which they generally pursue. Then, however, they retreated in parties with the greatest regularity, vast numbers remaining to complete the work of destruction. Little would I give for the life of a man who should be tied up to a tree when these ants pass that way and attack him; in two or three hours nothing would be left of him but the bare bones.

CHAPTER XII

I left the good villagers of Yoongoolapay, and pursued my way to the seashore. On the route we came to a high ridge, or plateau. This was the highest land I had seen between the Moonda and the Mani, and it is probable that, if it had not been for the trees, I should have seen the ocean very well. Along this ridge were strewn some of the most extraordinary boulders I ever saw. These immense blocks of granite covered the ground in every direction. Several of them were between twenty and thirty feet high, and about fifty feet long.

Near the largest of these granite masses a huge rock rose some forty or fifty feet out of the ground. I saw an opening in the solid rock, leading to a fine large cavern. It had no doubt been made by the hands of man; it was not of natural formation, for the entrance had evidently been cut out of the solid rock by human beings; and now it was much used by the natives as a house to stop in over night when they were travelling to and fro. Its vast opening admits such a flood of sunlight and air that it is not likely to be used as a lair for wild beasts. We saw the remains of several fires inside, but I am bound to say we saw also the tracks of leopards and other dangerous beasts on the outside, for which reason I did not care to sleep there.

While exploring the cavern I thought several times I heard a trickling, which was almost like the noise of rain, and which I had not noticed before, probably on account of the great shouting of my men. But when we got out I was surprised to find not a cloud in the sky. Turning for an explanation to Alapay, he led me along a path, and as we went forward the trickling noise gradually grew into the sound of rushing waters. Presently we came to the edge of a steep declivity, and here I saw before and around me a most charming landscape, the centre of which was a most beautiful waterfall. A little stream, which meandered along the slope of the plateau, and which had hitherto escaped our view, had here worn its way through a vast granite block which barred its course. Rushing through the narrow and almost circular hole in this block, it fell in one silvery leap perpendicularly forty or fifty feet. The lower level of the stream ran along between high, steep banks covered with trees, the right bank being quite abrupt. It was a miniature Niagara. Clear, sparkling, and pure as it could be, the water rushed down to its pebbly bed – a sight so charming that I sat down for some time and feasted my eyes upon it.