Leave Shinte -- Manioc
Gardens -- Mode of preparing the poisonous kind -- Its general Use --
Presents of Food -- Punctiliousness of the Balonda -- Their Idols and
Superstition -- Dress of the Balonda -- Villages beyond Lonaje -- Cazembe
-- Our Guides and the Makololo -- Night Rains -- Inquiries for English
cotton Goods -- Intemese's Fiction -- Visit from an old Man -- Theft --
Industry of our Guide -- Loss of Pontoon -- Plains covered with Water --
Affection of the Balonda for their Mothers -- A Night on an Island -- The
Grass on the Plains -- Source of the Rivers -- Loan of the Roofs of Huts
-- A Halt -- Fertility of the Country through which the Lokalueje flows --
Omnivorous Fish -- Natives' Mode of catching them -- The Village of a
Half-brother of Katema, his Speech and Present -- Our Guide's Perversity
-- Mozenkwa's pleasant Home and Family -- Clear Water of the flooded
Rivers -- A Messenger from Katema -- Quendende's Village: his Kindness --
Crop of Wool -- Meet People from the Town of Matiamvo -- Fireside Talk --
Matiamvo's Character and Conduct -- Presentation at Katema's Court: his
Present, good Sense, and Appearance -- Interview on the following Day --
Cattle -- A Feast and a Makololo Dance -- Arrest of a Fugitive --
Dignified old Courtier -- Katema's lax Government -- Cold Wind from the
North -- Canaries and other singing Birds -- Spiders, their Nests and Webs
-- Lake Dilolo -- Tradition -- Sagacity of Ants.
26TH. Leaving Shinte, with
eight of his men to aid in carrying our luggage, we passed, in a northerly
direction, down the lovely valley on which the town stands, then went a
little to the west through pretty open forest, and slept at a village of
Balonda. In the morning we had a fine range of green hills, called
Saloisho, on our right, and were informed that they were rather thickly
inhabited by the people of Shinte, who worked in iron, the ore of which
abounds in these hills.
The country through which
we passed possessed the same general character of flatness and forest that
we noticed before. The soil is dark, with a tinge of red -- in some places
it might be called red -- and appeared very fertile. Every valley
contained villages of twenty or thirty huts, with gardens of manioc, which
here is looked upon as the staff of life. Very little labor is required
for its cultivation. The earth is drawn up into oblong beds, about three
feet broad and one in height, and in these are planted pieces of the
manioc stalk, at four feet apart. A crop of beans or ground-nuts is sown
between them, and when these are reaped the land around the manioc is
cleared of weeds. In from ten to eighteen months after planting, according
to the quality of the soil, the roots are fit for food. There is no
necessity for reaping soon, as the roots do not become bitter and dry
until after three years. When a woman takes up the roots, she thrusts a
piece or two of the upper stalks into the hole she has made, draws back
the soil, and a new crop is thereby begun. The plant grows to a height of
six feet, and every part of it is useful: the leaves may be cooked as a
vegetable. The roots are from three to four inches in diameter, and from
twelve to eighteen inches long. There are two varieties of the manioc or
cassava -- one sweet and wholesome, the other bitter and containing
poison, but much more speedy in its growth than the former. This last
property causes its perpetuation.
When we reached the village
of Kapende, on the banks of the rivulet Lonaje, we were presented with so
much of the poisonous kind that we were obliged to leave it. To get rid of
the poison, the people place it four days in a pool of water. It then
becomes partially decomposed, and is taken out, stripped of its skin, and
exposed to the sun. When dried, it is easily pounded into a fine white
meal, closely resembling starch, which has either a little of the peculiar
taste arising from decomposition, or no more flavor than starch. When
intended to be used as food, this meal is stirred into boiling water: they
put in as much as can be moistened, one man holding the vessel and the
other stirring the porridge with all his might. This is the common mess of
the country. Though hungry, we could just manage to swallow it with the
aid of a little honey, which I shared with my men as long as it lasted. It
is very unsavory (Scottice: wersh); and no matter how much one may eat,
two hours afterward he is as hungry as ever. When less meal is employed,
the mess is exactly like a basin of starch in the hands of a laundress;
and if the starch were made from diseased potatoes, some idea might be
formed of the Balonda porridge, which hunger alone forced us to eat.
Santuru forbade his nobles to eat it, as it caused coughing and
expectoration.
Our chief guide, Intemese,
sent orders to all the villages around our route that Shinte's friends
must have abundance of provisions. Our progress was impeded by the time
requisite for communicating the chief's desire and consequent preparation
of meal. We received far more food from Shinte's people than from himself.
Kapende, for instance, presented two large baskets of meal, three of
manioc roots steeped and dried in the sun and ready to be converted into
flour, three fowls, and seven eggs, with three smoke-dried fishes; and
others gave with similar liberality. I gave to the head men small
bunches of my stock of beads, with an apology that we were now on our way
to the market for these goods. The present was always politely received.
We had an opportunity of
observing that our guides had much more etiquette than any of the tribes
farther south. They gave us food, but would not partake of it when we had
cooked it, nor would they eat their own food in our presence. When it was
cooked they retired into a thicket and ate their porridge; then all stood
up, and clapped their hands, and praised Intemese for it. The Makololo,
who are accustomed to the most free and easy manners, held out handfuls of
what they had cooked to any of the Balonda near, but they refused to
taste. They are very punctilious in their manners to each other. Each hut
has its own fire, and when it goes out they make it afresh for themselves
rather than take it from a neighbor. I believe much of this arises from
superstitious fears.
In the deep, dark forests
near each village, as already mentioned, you see idols intended to
represent the human head or a lion, or a crooked stick smeared with
medicine, or simply a small pot of medicine in a little shed, or miniature
huts with little mounds of earth in them. But in the darker recesses we
meet with human faces cut in the bark of trees, the outlines of which,
with the beards, closely resemble those seen on Egyptian monuments.
Frequent cuts are made on the trees along all the paths, and offerings of
small pieces of manioc roots or ears of maize are placed on branches.
There are also to be seen every few miles heaps of sticks, which are
treated in cairn fashion, by every one throwing a small branch to the heap
in passing; or a few sticks are placed on the path, and each passer-by
turns from his course, and forms a sudden bend in the road to one side. It
seems as if their minds were ever in doubt and dread in these gloomy
recesses of the forest, and that they were striving to propitiate, by
their offerings, some superior beings residing there.
The dress of the Balonda
men consists of the softened skins of small animals, as the jackal or wild
cat, hung before and behind from a girdle round the loins. The dress of
the women is of a nondescript character; but they were not immodest. They
stood before us as perfectly unconscious of any indecorum as we could be
with our clothes on. But, while ignorant of their own deficiency, they
could not maintain their gravity at the sight of the nudity of my men
behind. Much to the annoyance of my companions, the young girls laughed
outright whenever their backs were turned to them.
After crossing the Lonaje,
we came to some pretty villages, embowered, as the negro villages usually
are, in bananas, shrubs, and manioc, and near the banks of the Leeba we
formed our encampment in a nest of serpents, one of which bit one of our
men, but the wound was harmless. The people of the surrounding villages
presented us with large quantities of food, in obedience to the mandate of
Shinte, without expecting any equivalent.
One village had lately been
transferred hither from the country of Matiamvo. They, of course, continue
to acknowledge him as paramount chief; but the frequent instances which
occur of people changing from one part of the country to another, show
that the great chiefs possess only a limited power. The only peculiarity
we observed in these people is the habit of plaiting the beard into a
three-fold cord.
The town of the Balonda
chief Cazembe was pointed out to us as lying to the N.E. and by E. from
the town of Shinte, and great numbers of people in this quarter have gone
thither for the purpose of purchasing copper anklets, made at Cazembe's,
and report the distance to be about five days' journey. I made inquiries
of some of the oldest inhabitants of the villages at which we were staying
respecting the visit of Pereira and Lacerda to that town. An old
gray-headed man replied that they had often heard of white men before, but
never had seen one, and added that one had come to Cazembe when our
informant was young, and returned again without entering this part of the
country. The people of Cazembe are Balonda or Baloi, and his country has
been termed Londa, Lunda, or Lui, by the Portuguese.
It was always difficult to
get our guides to move away from a place. With the authority of the chief,
they felt as comfortable as king's messengers could, and were not disposed
to forego the pleasure of living at free quarters. My Makololo friends
were but ill drilled as yet; and since they had never left their own
country before, except for purposes of plunder, they did not take readily
to the peaceful system we now meant to follow. They either spoke too
imperiously to strangers, or, when reproved for that, were disposed to
follow the dictation of every one we met. When Intemese, our guide,
refused to stir toward the Leeba on the 31st of January, they would make
no effort to induce him to go; but, having ordered them to get ready,
Intemese saw the preparations, and soon followed the example. It took us
about four hours to cross the Leeba, which is considerably smaller here
than where we left it -- indeed, only about a hundred yards wide. It has
the same dark mossy hue. The villagers lent us canoes to effect our
passage; and, having gone to a village about two miles beyond the river, I
had the satisfaction of getting observations for both longitude and
latitude -- for the former, the distance between Saturn and the Moon, and
for the latter a meridian altitude of Canopus. Long. 22d 57' E., lat. 12d
6' 6" S.
These were the only
opportunities I had of ascertaining my whereabouts in this part of Londa.
Again and again did I take out the instruments, and, just as all was
right, the stars would be suddenly obscured by clouds. I had never
observed so great an amount of cloudiness in any part of the south
country; and as for the rains, I believe that years at Kolobeng would not
have made my little tent so rotten and thin as one month had done in
Londa. I never observed in the south the heavy night and early morning
rains we had in this country. They often continued all night, then became
heavier about an hour before dawn. Or if fair during the night, as day
drew nigh, an extremely heavy, still, pouring rain set in without warning.
Five out of every six days we had this pouring rain, at or near break of
day, for months together; and it soon beat my tent so thin, that a mist
fell through on my face and made every thing damp. The rains were
occasionally, but not always, accompanied with very loud thunder.
FEBRUARY 1ST. This day we
had a fine view of two hills called Piri (Peeri), meaning "two", on the
side of the river we had left. The country there is named Mokwankwa. And
there Intemese informed us one of Shinte's children was born, when he was
in his progress southward from the country of Matiamvo. This part of the
country would thus seem not to have been inhabited by the people of Shinte
at any very remote period. He told me himself that he had come into his
present country by command of Matiamvo. Here we were surprised to hear
English cotton cloth much more eagerly inquired after than beads and
ornaments. They are more in need of clothing than the Bechuana tribes
living adjacent to the Kalahari Desert, who have plenty of skins for the
purpose. Animals of all kinds are rare here, and a very small piece of
calico is of great value.
In the midst of the heavy
rain, which continued all the morning, Intemese sent to say he was laid up
with pains in the stomach, and must not be disturbed; but when it cleared
up, about eleven, I saw our friend walking off to the village, and talking
with a very loud voice. On reproaching him for telling an untruth, he
turned it off with a laugh by saying he really had a complaint in his
stomach, which I might cure by slaughtering one of the oxen and allowing
him to eat beef. He was evidently reveling in the abundance of good food
the chief's orders brought us; and he did not feel the shame I did when I
gave a few beads only in return for large baskets of meal.
A very old man visited us
here with a present of maize: like the others, he had never before seen a
white man, and, when conversing with him, some of the young men remarked
that they were the true ancients, for they had now seen more wonderful
things than their forefathers. One of Intemese's men stole a fowl given me
by a lady of the village. When charged with the theft, every one of
Intemese's party vociferated his innocence and indignation at being
suspected, continuing their loud asseverations and gesticulations for some
minutes.
One of my men, Loyanke,
went off to the village, brought the lady who had presented the fowl to
identify it, and then pointed to the hut in which it was hidden. The
Balonda collected round him, evincing great wrath; but Loyanke seized his
battle-axe in the proper manner for striking, and, placing himself on a
little hillock, soon made them moderate their tones. Intemese then called
on me to send one of my people to search the huts if I suspected his
people. The man sent soon found it, and brought it out, to the confusion
of Intemese and the laughter of our party. This incident is mentioned to
show that the greater superstition which exists here does not lead to the
practice of the virtues. We never met an instance like this of theft from
a white man among the Makololo, though they complain of the Makalaka as
addicted to pilfering.
The honesty of the Bakwains
has been already noticed. Probably the estimation in which I was held as a
public benefactor, in which character I was not yet known to the Balonda,
may account for the sacredness with which my property was always treated
before. But other incidents which happened subsequently showed, as well as
this, that idolaters are not so virtuous as those who have no idols.
As the people on the banks
of the Leeba were the last of Shinte's tribe over which Intemese had
power, he was naturally anxious to remain as long as possible. He was not
idle, but made a large wooden mortar and pestle for his wife during our
journey. He also carved many wooden spoons and a bowl; then commenced a
basket; but as what he considered good living was any thing but agreeable
to us, who had been accustomed to milk and maize, we went forward on the
2d without him. He soon followed, but left our pontoon, saying it would be
brought by the head man of the village. This was a great loss, as we
afterward found; it remained at this village more than a year, and when we
returned a mouse had eaten a hole in it.
We entered on an extensive
plain beyond the Leeba, at least twenty miles broad, and covered with
water, ankle deep in the shallowest parts. We deviated somewhat from our
N.W. course by the direction of Intemese, and kept the hills Piri nearly
on our right during a great part of the first day, in order to avoid the
still more deeply flooded plains of Lobale (Luval?) on the west. These,
according to Intemese, are at present impassable on account of being thigh
deep.
The plains are so perfectly
level that rain-water, which this was, stands upon them for months
together. They were not flooded by the Leeba, for that was still far
within its banks. Here and there, dotted over the surface, are little
islands, on which grow stunted date-bushes and scraggy trees. The plains
themselves are covered with a thick sward of grass, which conceals the
water, and makes the flats appear like great pale yellow-colored
prairie-lands, with a clear horizon, except where interrupted here and
there by trees. The clear rain-water must have stood some time among the
grass, for great numbers of lotus-flowers were seen in full blow; and the
runs of water tortoises and crabs were observed; other animals also, which
prey on the fish that find their way to the plains.
The continual splashing of
the oxen keeps the feet of the rider constantly wet, and my men complain
of the perpetual moisture of the paths by which we have traveled in Londa
as softening their horny soles. The only information we can glean is from
Intemese, who points out the different localities as we pass along, and
among the rest "Mokala a Mama", his "mamma's home". It was interesting to
hear this tall gray-headed man recall the memories of boyhood.
All the Makalaka children
cleave to the mother in cases of separation, or removal from one part of
the country to another. This love for mothers does not argue superior
morality in other respects, or else Intemese has forgotten any injunctions
his mamma may have given him not to tell lies. The respect, however, with
which he spoke of her was quite characteristic of his race. The Bechuanas,
on the contrary, care nothing for their mothers, but cling to their
fathers, especially if they have any expectation of becoming heirs to
their cattle.
Our Bakwain guide to the
lake, Rachosi, told me that his mother lived in the country of Sebituane,
but, though a good specimen of the Bechuanas, he laughed at the idea of
going so far as from the Lake Ngami to the Chobe merely for the purpose of
seeing her. Had he been one of the Makalaka, he never would have parted
from her.
We made our beds on one of
the islands, and were wretchedly supplied with firewood. The booths
constructed by the men were but sorry shelter, for the rain poured down
without intermission till midday. There is no drainage for the prodigious
masses of water on these plains, except slow percolation into the
different feeders of the Leeba, and into that river itself. The quantity
of vegetation has prevented the country from becoming furrowed by many
rivulets or "nullahs".
Were it not so remarkably
flat, the drainage must have been effected by torrents, even in spite of
the matted vegetation. That these extensive plains are covered with
grasses only, and the little islands with but scraggy trees, may be
accounted for by the fact, observable every where in this country, that,
where water stands for any length of time, trees can not live. The want of
speedy drainage destroys them, and injures the growth of those that are
planted on the islands, for they have no depth of earth not subjected to
the souring influence of the stagnant water.
The plains of Lobale, to
the west of these, are said to be much more extensive than any we saw, and
their vegetation possesses similar peculiarities. When the stagnant
rain-water has all soaked in, as must happen during the months in which
there is no rain, travelers are even put to straits for want of water.
This is stated on native testimony; but I can very well believe that level
plains, in which neither wells nor gullies are met with, may, after the
dry season, present the opposite extreme to what we witnessed.
Water, however, could
always be got by digging, a proof of which we had on our return when
brought to a stand on this very plain by severe fever: about twelve miles
from the Kasai my men dug down a few feet, and found an abundant supply;
and we saw on one of the islands the garden of a man who, in the dry
season, had drunk water from a well in like manner. Plains like these can
not be inhabited while the present system of cultivation lasts. The
population is not yet so very large as to need them. They find
garden-ground enough on the gentle slopes at the sides of the rivulets,
and possess no cattle to eat off the millions of acres of fine hay we were
now wading through. Any one who has visited the Cape Colony will
understand me when I say that these immense crops resemble sown grasses
more than the tufty vegetation of the south.
I would here request the
particular attention of the reader to the phenomena these periodically
deluged plains present, because they have a most important bearing on the
physical geography of a very large portion of this country. The plains of
Lobale, to the west of this, give rise to a great many streams, which
unite, and form the deep, never-failing Chobe. Similar extensive flats
give birth to the Loeti and Kasai, and, as we shall see further on, all
the rivers of an extensive region owe their origin to oozing bogs, and not
to fountains.
When released from our
island by the rain ceasing, we marched on till we came to a ridge of dry
inhabited land in the N.W. The inhabitants, according to custom, lent us
the roofs of some huts to save the men the trouble of booth-making. I
suspect that the story in Park's "Travels", of the men lifting up the hut
to place it on the lion, referred to the roof only. We leave them for the
villagers to replace at their leisure. No payment is expected for the use
of them.
By night it rained so
copiously that all our beds were flooded from below; and from this time
forth we always made a furrow round each booth, and used the earth to
raise our sleeping-places. My men turned out to work in the wet most
willingly; indeed, they always did. I could not but contrast their conduct
with that of Intemese. He was thoroughly imbued with the slave spirit, and
lied on all occasions without compunction. Untruthfulness is a sort of
refuge for the weak and oppressed. We expected to move on the 4th, but he
declared that we were so near Katema's, if we did not send forward to
apprise that chief of our approach, he would certainly impose a fine.
It rained the whole day, so
we were reconciled to the delay; but on Sunday, the 5th, he let us know
that we were still two days distant from Katema. We unfortunately could
not manage without him, for the country was so deluged, we should have
been brought to a halt before we went many miles by some deep valley,
every one of which was full of water. Intemese continued to plait his
basket with all his might, and would not come to our religious service. He
seemed to be afraid of our incantations, but was always merry and jocular.
6TH. Soon after starting we
crossed a branch of the Lokalueje by means of a canoe, and in the
afternoon passed over the main stream by a like conveyance. The former, as
is the case with all branches of rivers in this country, is called nyuana
Kalueje (child of the Kalueje).
Hippopotami exist in the
Lokalueje, so it may be inferred to be perennial, as the inhabitants
asserted. We can not judge of the size of the stream from what we now saw.
It had about forty yards of deep, fast-flowing water, but probably not
more than half that amount in the dry season. Besides these, we crossed
numerous feeders in our N.N.W. course, and, there being no canoes, got
frequently wet in the course of the day.
The oxen in some places had
their heads only above water, and the stream, flowing over their backs,
wetted our blankets, which we used as saddles. The arm-pit was the only
safe spot for carrying the watch, for there it was preserved from rains
above and waters below. The men on foot crossed these gullies holding up
their burdens at arms' length.
The Lokalueje winds from
northeast to southwest into the Leeba. The country adjacent to its banks
is extremely fine and fertile, with here and there patches of forest or
clumps of magnificent trees. The villagers through whose gardens we passed
continue to sow and reap all the year round. The grains, as maize, lotsa
(`Pennisetum typhoideum'), lokesh or millet, are to be seen at all stages
of their growth -- some just ripe, while at this time the Makololo crops
are not half grown.
My companions, who have a
good idea of the different qualities of soils, expressed the greatest
admiration of the agricultural capabilities of the whole of Londa, and
here they were loud in their praises of the pasturage. They have an
accurate idea of the varieties of grasses best adapted for different kinds
of stock, and lament because here there are no cows to feed off the rich
green crop, which at this time imparts special beauty to the landscape.
Great numbers of the
omnivorous feeding fish, `Glanis siluris', or mosala, spread themselves
over the flooded plains, and, as the waters retire, try to find their way
back again to the rivers. The Balonda make earthen dikes and hedges across
the outlets of the retreating waters, leaving only small spaces through
which the chief part of the water flows. In these open spaces they plant
creels, similar in shape to our own, into which the fish can enter, but
can not return. They secure large quantities of fish in this way, which,
when smoke-dried, make a good relish for their otherwise insipid food.
They use also a weir of mats made of reeds sewed together, with but half
an inch between each. Open spaces are left for the insertion of the creels
as before.
In still water, a fish-trap
is employed of the same shape and plan as the common round wire
mouse-trap, which has an opening surrounded with wires pointing inward.
This is made of reeds and supple wands, and food is placed inside to
attract the fish.
Besides these means of
catching fish, they use a hook of iron without a barb; the point is bent
inward instead, so as not to allow the fish to escape. Nets are not so
common as in the Zouga and Leeambye, but they kill large quantities of
fishes by means of the bruised leaves of a shrub, which may be seen
planted beside every village in the country.
On the 7th we came to the
village of Soana Molopo, a half-brother of Katema, a few miles beyond the
Lokalueje. When we went to visit him, we found him sitting with about one
hundred men. He called on Intemese to give some account of us, though no
doubt it had been done in private before. He then pronounced the following
sentences: "The journey of the white man is very proper, but Shinte has
disturbed us by showing the path to the Makololo who accompany him. He
ought to have taken them through the country without showing them the
towns. We are afraid of the Makololo." He then gave us a handsome present
of food, and seemed perplexed by my sitting down familiarly, and giving
him a few of our ideas. When we left, Intemese continued busily imparting
an account of all we had given to Shinte and Masiko, and instilling the
hope that Soana Molopo might obtain as much as they had received.
Accordingly, when we
expected to move on the morning of the 8th, we got some hints about the ox
which Soana Molopo expected to eat, but we recommended him to get the
breed of cattle for himself, seeing his country was so well adapted for
rearing stock. Intemese also refused to move; he, moreover, tried to
frighten us into parting with an ox by saying that Soana Molopo would send
forward a message that we were a marauding party; but we packed up and
went on without him. We did not absolutely need him, but he was useful in
preventing the inhabitants of secluded villages from betaking themselves
to flight. We wished to be on good terms with all, and therefore put up
with our guide's peccadilloes. His good word respecting us had
considerable influence, and he was always asked if we had behaved
ourselves like men on the way. The Makololo are viewed as great savages,
but Intemese could not justly look with scorn on them, for he has the mark
of a large gash on his arm, got in fighting; and he would never tell the
cause of battle, but boasted of his powers as the Makololo do, till asked
about a scar on his back, betokening any thing but bravery.
Intemese was useful in
cases like that of Monday, when we came upon a whole village in a forest
enjoying their noonday nap. Our sudden appearance in their midst so
terrified them that one woman nearly went into convulsions from fear. When
they saw and heard Intemese, their terror subsided.
As usual, we were caught by
rains after leaving Soana Molopo's, and made our booths at the house of
Mozinkwa, a most intelligent and friendly man belonging to Katema. He had
a fine large garden in cultivation, and well hedged round. He had made the
walls of his compound, or court-yard, of branches of the banian, which,
taking root, had grown to be a live hedge of that tree. Mozinkwa's wife
had cotton growing all round her premises, and several plants used as
relishes to the insipid porridge of the country. She cultivated also the
common castor-oil plant, and a larger shrub (`Jatropha curcas'), which
also yields a purgative oil. Here, however, the oil is used for anointing
the heads and bodies alone. We saw in her garden likewise the Indian
bringalls, yams, and sweet potatoes. Several trees were planted in the
middle of the yard, and in the deep shade they gave stood the huts of his
fine family. His children, all by one mother, very black, but comely to
view, were the finest negro family I ever saw.
We were much pleased with
the frank friendship and liberality of this man and his wife. She asked me
to bring her a cloth from the white man's country; but, when we returned,
poor Mozinkwa's wife was in her grave, and he, as is the custom, had
abandoned trees, garden, and huts to ruin. They can not live on a spot
where a favorite wife has died, probably because unable to bear the
remembrance of the happy times they have spent there, or afraid to remain
in a spot where death has once visited the establishment. If ever the
place is revisited, it is to pray to her, or make some offering. This
feeling renders any permanent village in the country impossible.
We learned from Mozinkwa
that Soana Molopo was the elder brother of Katema, but that he was
wanting in wisdom; and Katema, by purchasing cattle and receiving in a
kind manner all the fugitives who came to him, had secured the birthright
to himself, so far as influence in the country is concerned. Soana's first
address to us did not savor much of African wisdom.
FRIDAY, 10TH. On leaving
Mozinkwa's hospitable mansion we crossed another stream, about forty yards
wide, in canoes. While this tedious process was going on, I was informed
that it is called the Mona-Kalueje, or brother of Kalueje, as it flows
into that river; that both the Kalueje and Livoa flow into the Leeba; and
that the Chifumadze, swollen by the Lotembwa, is a feeder of that river
also, below the point where we lately crossed it.
It may be remarked here
that these rivers were now in flood, and that the water was all perfectly
clear. The vegetation on the banks is so thickly planted that the surface
of the earth is not abraded by the torrents. The grass is laid flat, and
forms a protection to the banks, which are generally a stiff black loam.
The fact of canoes being upon them shows that, though not large, they are
not like the southern rivulets, which dry up during most of the year, and
render canoes unnecessary.
As we were crossing the
river we were joined by a messenger from Katema, called Shakatwala. This
person was a sort of steward or factotum to his chief. Every chief has one
attached to his person, and, though generally poor, they are invariably
men of great shrewdness and ability. They act the part of messengers on
all important occasions, and possess considerable authority in the chief's
household. Shakatwala informed us that Katema had not received precise
information about us, but if we were peaceably disposed, as he loved
strangers, we were to come to his town. We proceeded forthwith, but were
turned aside, by the strategy of our friend Intemese, to the village of
Quendende, the father-in-law of Katema. This fine old man was so very
polite that we did not regret being obliged to spend Sunday at his
village. He expressed his pleasure at having a share in the honor of a
visit as well as Katema, though it seemed to me that the conferring that
pleasure required something like a pretty good stock of impudence, in
leading twenty-seven men through the country without the means of
purchasing food.
My men did a little
business for themselves in the begging line; they generally commenced
every interview with new villagers by saying "I have come from afar; give
me something to eat." I forbade this at first, believing that, as the
Makololo had a bad name, the villagers gave food from fear. But, after
some time, it was evident that in many cases maize and manioc were given
from pure generosity. The first time I came to this conclusion was at the
house of Mozinkwa; scarcely any one of my men returned from it without
something in his hand; and as they protested they had not begged, I asked
himself, and found that it was the case, and that he had given
spontaneously.
In other parts the chiefs
attended to my wants, and the common people gave liberally to my men. I
presented some of my razors and iron spoons to different head men, but my
men had nothing to give; yet every one tried to appropriate an individual
in each village as "Molekane", or comrade, and the villagers often
assented; so, if the reader remembers the molekane system of the Mopato,
he may perceive that those who presented food freely would expect the
Makololo to treat them in like manner, should they ever be placed in
similar circumstances. Their country is so fertile that they are in no
want of food themselves; however, their generosity was remarkable; only
one woman refused to give some of my men food, but her husband calling out
to her to be more liberal, she obeyed, scolding all the while.
In this part of the
country, buffaloes, elands, koodoos, and various antelopes are to be
found, but we did not get any, as they are exceedingly wary from being
much hunted. We had the same woodland and meadow as before, with here and
there pleasant negro villages; and being all in good health, could enjoy
the fine green scenery.
Quendende's head was a good
specimen of the greater crop of wool with which the negroes of Londa are
furnished. The front was parted in the middle, and plaited into two thick
rolls, which, falling down behind the ears, reached the shoulders; the
rest was collected into a large knot, which lay on the nape of the neck.
As he was an intelligent man, we had much conversation together: he had
just come from attending the funeral of one of his people, and I found
that the great amount of drum-beating which takes place on these occasions
was with the idea that the Barimo, or spirits, could be drummed to sleep.
There is a drum in every
village, and we often hear it going from sunset to sunrise. They seem to
look upon the departed as vindictive beings, and, I suspect, are more
influenced by fear than by love. In beginning to speak on religious
subjects with those who have never heard of Christianity, the great fact
of the Son of God having come down from heaven to die for us is the
prominent theme. No fact more striking can be mentioned. "He actually came
to men. He himself told us about his Father, and the dwelling-place
whither he has gone. We have his words in this book, and he really endured
punishment in our stead from pure love," etc. If this fails to interest
them, nothing else will succeed.
We here met with some
people just arrived from the town of Matiamvo (Muata yanvo), who had been
sent to announce the death of the late chieftain of that name. Matiamvo is
the hereditary title, muata meaning lord or chief. The late Matiamvo
seems, from the report of these men, to have become insane, for he is said
to have sometimes indulged the whim of running a muck in the town and
beheading whomsoever he met, until he had quite a heap of human heads.
Matiamvo explained this conduct by saying that his people were too many,
and he wanted to diminish them. He had absolute power of life and death.
On inquiring whether human sacrifices were still made, as in the time of
Pereira, at Cazembe's, we were informed that these had never been so
common as was represented to Pereira, but that it occasionally happened,
when certain charms were needed by the chief, that a man was slaughtered
for the sake of some part of his body. He added that he hoped the present
chief would not act like his (mad) predecessor, but kill only those who
were guilty of witchcraft or theft.
These men were very much
astonished at the liberty enjoyed by the Makololo; and when they found
that all my people held cattle, we were told that Matiamvo alone had a
herd. One very intelligent man among them asked, "If he should make a
canoe, and take it down the river to the Makololo, would he get a cow for
it?" This question, which my men answered in the affirmative, was
important, as showing the knowledge of a water communication from the
country of Matiamvo to the Makololo; and the river runs through a fertile
country abounding in large timber.
If the tribes have
intercourse with each other, it exerts a good influence on their chiefs to
hear what other tribes think of their deeds. The Makololo have such a bad
name, on account of their perpetual forays, that they have not been known
in Londa except as ruthless destroyers. The people in Matiamvo's country
submit to much wrong from their chiefs, and no voice can be raised against
cruelty, because they are afraid to flee elsewhere.
We left Quendende's village
in company with Quendende himself, and the principal man of the
embassadors of Matiamvo, and after two or three miles' march to the N.W.,
came to the ford of the Lotembwa, which flows southward. A canoe was
waiting to ferry us over, but it was very tedious work; for, though the
river itself was only eighty yards wide, the whole valley was flooded, and
we were obliged to paddle more than half a mile to get free of the water.
A fire was lit to warm old Quendende, and enable him to dry his
tobacco-leaves. The leaves are taken from the plant, and spread close to
the fire until they are quite dry and crisp; they are then put into a
snuff-box, which, with a little pestle, serves the purpose of a mill to
grind them into powder; it is then used as snuff.
As we sat by the fire, the
embassadors communicated their thoughts freely respecting the customs of
their race. When a chief dies, a number of servants are slaughtered with
him to form his company in the other world. The Barotse followed the same
custom, and this and other usages show them to be genuine negroes, though
neither they nor the Balonda resemble closely the typical form of that
people. Quendende said if he were present on these occasions he would hide
his people, so that they might not be slaughtered. As we go north, the
people become more bloodily superstitious.
We were assured that if the
late Matiamvo took a fancy to any thing, such, for instance, as my
watch-chain, which was of silver wire, and was a great curiosity, as they
had never seen metal plaited before, he would order a whole village to be
brought up to buy it from a stranger. When a slave-trader visited him, he
took possession of all his goods; then, after ten days or a fortnight, he
would send out a party of men to pounce upon some considerable village,
and, having killed the head man, would pay for all the goods by selling
the inhabitants. This has frequently been the case, and nearly all the
visitants he ever had were men of color. On asking if Matiamvo did not
know he was a man, and would be judged, in company with those he
destroyed, by a Lord who is no respector of persons? the embassador
replied, "We do not go up to God, as you do; we are put into the ground."
I could not ascertain that even those who have such a distinct perception
of the continued existence of departed spirits had any notion of heaven;
they appear to imagine the souls to be always near the place of sepulture.
After crossing the River
Lotembwa we traveled about eight miles, and came to Katema's straggling
town (lat. 11d 35' 49" S., long. 22d 27' E.). It is more a collection of
villages than a town. We were led out about half a mile from the houses,
that we might make for ourselves the best lodging we could of the trees
and grass, while Intemese was taken to Katema to undergo the usual process
of pumping as to our past conduct and professions. Katema soon afterward
sent a handsome present of food.
Next morning we had a
formal presentation, and found Katema seated on a sort of throne, with
about three hundred men on the ground around, and thirty women, who were
said to be his wives, close behind him. The main body of the people were
seated in a semicircle, at a distance of fifty yards. Each party had its
own head man stationed at a little distance in front, and, when beckoned
by the chief, came near him as councilors. Intemese gave our history, and
Katema placed sixteen large baskets of meal before us, half a dozen fowls,
and a dozen eggs, and expressed regret that we had slept hungry: he did
not like any stranger to suffer want in his town; and added, "Go home, and
cook and eat, and you will then be in a fit state to speak to me at an
audience I will give you to-morrow." He was busily engaged in hearing the
statements of a large body of fine young men who had fled from Kangenke,
chief of Lobale, on account of his selling their relatives to the native
Portuguese who frequent his country.
Katema is a tall man, about
forty years of age, and his head was ornamented with a helmet of beads and
feathers. He had on a snuff-brown coat, with a broad band of tinsel down
the arms, and carried in his hand a large tail made of the caudal
extremities of a number of gnus. This has charms attached to it, and he
continued waving it in front of himself all the time we were there. He
seemed in good spirits, laughing heartily several times. This is a good
sign, for a man who shakes his sides with mirth is seldom difficult to
deal with. When we rose to take leave, all rose with us, as at Shinte's.
Returning next morning,
Katema addressed me thus: "I am the great Moene (lord) Katema, the fellow
of Matiamvo. There is no one in the country equal to Matiamvo and me. I
have always lived here, and my forefathers too. There is the house in
which my father lived. You found no human skulls near the place where you
are encamped. I never killed any of the traders; they all come to me. I am
the great Moene Katema, of whom you have heard." He looked as if he had
fallen asleep tipsy, and dreamed of his greatness. On explaining my
objects to him, he promptly pointed out three men who would be our guides,
and explained that the northwest path was the most direct, and that by
which all traders came, but that the water at present standing on the
plains would reach up to the loins; he would therefore send us by a more
northerly route, which no trader had yet traversed. This was more suited
to our wishes, for we never found a path safe that had been trodden by
slave-traders.
We presented a few
articles, which pleased him highly: a small shawl, a razor, three bunches
of beads, some buttons, and a powder-horn. Apologizing for the
insignificance of the gift, I wished to know what I could bring him from
Loanda, saying, not a large thing, but something small. He laughed
heartily at the limitation, and replied, "Every thing of the white people
would be acceptable, and he would receive any thing thankfully; but the
coat he then had on was old, and he would like another." I introduced the
subject of the Bible, but one of the old councilors broke in, told all he
had picked up from the Mambari, and glided off into several other
subjects.
It is a misery to speak
through an interpreter, as I was now forced to do. With a body of men like
mine, composed as they were of six different tribes, and all speaking the
language of the Bechuanas, there was no difficulty in communicating on
common subjects with any tribe we came to; but doling out a story in which
they felt no interest, and which I understood only sufficiently well to
perceive that a mere abridgment was given, was uncommonly slow work.
Neither could Katema's attention be arrested,except by compliments, of
which they have always plenty to bestow as well as receive. We were
strangers, and knew that, as Makololo, we had not the best of characters,
yet his treatment of us
was wonderfully good and liberal.
I complimented him on the
possession of cattle, and pleased him by telling him how he might milk the
cows. He has a herd of about thirty, really splendid animals, all reared
from two which he bought from the Balobale when he was young. They are
generally of a white color, and are quite wild, running off with graceful
ease like a herd of elands on the approach of a stranger. They excited the
unbounded admiration of the Makololo, and clearly proved that the country
was well adapted for them.
When Katema wishes to
slaughter one, he is obliged to shoot it as if it were a buffalo. Matiamvo
is said to possess a herd of cattle in a similar state. I never could feel
certain as to the reason why they do not all possess cattle in a country
containing such splendid pasturage.
As Katema did not offer an
ox, as would have been done by a Makololo or Caffre chief, we slaughtered
one of our own, and all of us were delighted to get a meal of meat, after
subsisting so long on the light porridge and green maize of Londa. On
occasions of slaughtering an animal, some pieces of it are in the fire
before the skin is all removed from the body. A frying-pan full of these
pieces having been got quickly ready, my men crowded about their father,
and I handed some all round. It was a strange sight to the Balonda, who
were looking on, wondering. I offered portions to them too, but these were
declined, though they are excessively fond of a little animal food to eat
with their vegetable diet. They would not eat with us, but they would take
the meat and cook it in their own way, and then use it.
I thought at one time that
they had imported something from the Mohammedans, and the more especially
as an exclamation of surprise, "Allah", sounds like the Illah of the
Arabs; but we found, a little farther on, another form of salutation, of
Christian (?) origin, "Ave-rie" (Ave Marie). The salutations probably
travel farther than the faith. My people, when satisfied with a meal like
that which they enjoy so often at home, amused themselves by an uproarious
dance. Katema sent to ask what I had given them to produce so much
excitement. Intemese replied it was their custom, and they meant no harm.
The companion of the ox we
slaughtered refused food for two days, and went lowing about for him
continually. He seemed inconsolable for his loss, and tried again and
again to escape back to the Makololo country. My men remarked, "He thinks
they will kill me as well as my friend." Katema thought it the result of
art, and had fears of my skill in medicine, and of course witchcraft. He
refused to see the magic lantern.
One of the affairs which
had been intrusted by Shinte to Intemese was the rescue of a wife who had
eloped with a young man belonging to Katema. As this was the only case I
have met with in the interior in which a fugitive was sent back to a chief
against his own will, I am anxious to mention it. On Intemese claiming her
as his master's wife, she protested loudly against it, saying "she knew
she was not going back to be a wife again; she was going back to be sold
to the Mambari."
My men formed many
friendships with the people of Katema, and some of the poorer classes said
in confidence, "We wish our children could go back with you to the
Makololo country; here we are all in danger of being sold." My men were of
opinion that it was only the want of knowledge of the southern country
which prevented an exodus of all the lower portions of Londa population
thither.
It is remarkable how little
people living in a flat forest country like this know of distant tribes.
An old man, who said he had been born about the same time as the late
Matiamvo, and had been his constant companion through life, visited us;
and as I was sitting on some grass in front of the little gipsy tent
mending my camp stool, I invited him to take a seat on the grass beside
me. This was peremptorily refused: "he had never sat on the ground during
the late chief's reign, and he was not going to degrade himself now." One
of my men handed him a log of wood taken from the fire, and helped him out
of the difficulty. When I offered him some cooked meat on a plate, he
would not touch that either, but would take it home. So I humored him by
sending a servant to bear a few ounces of meat to the town behind him. He
mentioned the Lolo (Lulua) as the branch of the Leeambye which flows
southward or S.S.E.; but the people of Matiamvo had never gone far down
it, as their chief had always been afraid of encountering a tribe whom,
from the description given, I could recognize as the Makololo.
He described five rivers as
falling into the Lolo, viz., the Lishish, Liss or Lise, Kalileme,
Ishidish, and Molong. None of these are large, but when they are united in
the Lolo they form a considerable stream. The country through which the
Lolo flows is said to be flat, fertile, well peopled, and there are large
patches of forest. In this report he agreed perfectly with the people of
Matiamvo, whom we had met at Quendende's village. But we never could get
him, or any one in this quarter, to draw a map on the ground, as people
may readily be got to do in the south.
Katema promised us the aid
of some of his people as carriers, but his rule is not very stringent or
efficient, for they refused to turn out for the work. They were Balobale;
and he remarked on their disobedience that, though he received them as
fugitives, they did not feel grateful enough to obey, and if they
continued rebellious he must drive them back whence they came; but there
is little fear of that, as all the chiefs are excessively anxious to
collect men in great numbers around them. These Balobale would not go,
though our guide Shakatwala ran after some of them with a drawn sword.
This degree of liberty to rebel was very striking to us, as it occurred in
a country where people may be sold, and often are so disposed of when
guilty of any crime; and we well knew that open disobedience like this
among the Makololo would be punished with death without much ceremony.
On Sunday, the 19th, both I
and several of our party were seized with fever, and I could do nothing
but toss about in my little tent, with the thermometer above 90 Deg.,
though this was the beginning of winter, and my men made as much shade as
possible by planting branches of trees all round and over it. We have, for
the first time in my experience in Africa, had a cold wind from the north.
All the winds from that quarter are hot, and those from the south are
cold, but they seldom blow from either direction.
20TH. We were glad to get
away, though not on account of any scarcity of food; for my men, by giving
small presents of meat as an earnest of their sincerity, formed many
friendships with the people of Katema. We went about four or five miles in
a N.N.W. direction, then two in a westerly one, and came round the small
end of Lake Dilolo. It seemed, as far as we could at this time discern, to
be like a river a quarter of a mile wide. It is abundantly supplied with
fish and hippopotami; the broad part, which we did not this time see, is
about three miles wide, and the lake is almost seven or eight long. If it
be thought strange that I did not go a few miles to see the broad part,
which, according to Katema, had never been visited by any of the traders,
it must be remembered that in consequence of fever I had eaten nothing for
two entire days, and, instead of sleep, the whole of the nights were
employed in incessant drinking of water, and I was now so glad to get on
in the journey and see some of my fellow fever-patients crawling along,
that I could not brook the delay, which astronomical observations for
accurately determining the geographical position of this most interesting
spot would have occasioned.
We observed among the
people of Katema a love for singing-birds. One pretty little songster,
named "cabazo", a species of canary, is kept in very neatly made cages,
having traps on the top to entice its still free companions. On asking why
they kept them in confinement, "Because they sing sweetly," was the
answer. They feed them on the lotsa (`Pennisetum typhoideum'), of which
great quantities are cultivated as food for man, and these canaries plague
the gardeners here, very much in the same way as our sparrows do at home.
I was pleased to hear the
long-forgotten cry of alarm of the canaries in the woods, and observed one
warbling forth its song, and keeping in motion from side to side, as these
birds do in the cage. We saw also tame pigeons; and the Barotse, who
always take care to exalt Santuru, reminded us that this chief had many
doves, and kept canaries which had reddish heads when the birds attained
maturity. Those we now see have the real canary color on the breast, with
a tinge of green; the back, yellowish green, with darker longitudinal
bands meeting in the centre; a narrow dark band passes from the bill over
the eye and back to the bill again.
The birds of song here set
up quite a merry chorus in the mornings, and abound most near the
villages. Some sing as loudly as our thrushes, and the king-hunter
(`Halcyon Senegalensis') makes a clear whirring sound like that of a
whistle with a pea in it. During the heat of the day all remain silent,
and take their siesta in the shadiest parts of the trees, but in the cool
of the evening they again exert themselves in the production of pleasant
melody. It is remarkable that so many songbirds abound where there is a
general paucity of other animal life.
As we went forward we were
struck by the comparative absence of game and the larger kind of fowls.
The rivers contain very few fish. Common flies are not troublesome, as
they are wherever milk is abundant; they are seen in company with others
of the same size and shape, but whose tiny feet do not tickle the skin, as
is the case with their companions. Mosquitoes are seldom so numerous as to
disturb
the slumbers of a weary man. But, though this region is free from common
insect plagues, and from tsetse, it has others. Feeling something running
across my forehead as I was falling asleep, I put up the hand to wipe it
off, and was sharply stung both on the hand and head; the pain was very
acute.
On obtaining a light, we
found that it had been inflicted by a light-colored spider, about half an
inch in length, and, one of the men having crushed it with his fingers, I
had no opportunity of examining whether the pain had been produced by
poison from a sting or from its mandibles. No remedy was applied, and the
pain ceased in about two hours. The Bechuanas believe that there is a
small black spider in the country whose bite is fatal. I have not met with
an instance in which death could be traced to this insect, though a very
large black, hairy spider, an inch and a quarter long and three quarters
of an inch broad, is frequently seen, having a process at the end of its
front claws similar to that at the end of the scorpion's tail, and when
the bulbous portion of it is pressed, the poison may be seen oozing out
from the point. We have also spiders in the south which seize their prey
by leaping upon it from a distance of several inches. When alarmed, they
can spring about a foot away from the object of their own fear. Of this
kind there are several varieties.
A large reddish spider
(`Mygale') obtains its food in a different manner than either patiently
waiting in ambush or by catching it with a bound. It runs about with great
velocity in and out, behind and around every object, searching for what it
may devour, and, from its size and rapid motions, excites the horror of
every stranger. I never knew it to do any harm except frightening the
nervous, and I believe few could look upon it for the first time without
feeling himself in danger. It is named by the natives "selali", and is
believed to be the maker of a hinged cover for its nest. You see a door,
about the size of a shilling, lying beside a deep hole of nearly similar
diameter. The inside of the door lying upward, and which attracts your
notice, is of a pure white silky substance, like paper. The outer side is
coated over with earth, precisely like that in which the hole is made. If
you try to lift it, you find it is fastened by a hinge on one side, and,
if it is turned over upon the hole, it fits it exactly, and the earthy
side being then uppermost, it is quite impossible to detect the situation
of the nest. Unfortunately, this cavity for breeding is never seen except
when the owner is out, and has left the door open behind her.
In some parts of the
country there are great numbers of a large, beautiful yellow-spotted
spider, the webs of which are about a yard in diameter. The lines on which
these webs are spun are suspended from one tree to another, and are as
thick as coarse thread. The fibres radiate from a central point, where the
insect waits for its prey. The webs are placed perpendicularly, and a
common occurrence in walking is to get the face enveloped in them as a
lady is in a veil.
Another kind of spider
lives in society, and forms so great a collection of webs placed at every
angle, that the trunk of a tree surrounded by them can not be seen. A
piece of hedge is often so hidden by this spider that the branches are
invisible. Another is seen on the inside of the walls of huts among the
Makololo in great abundance. It is round in shape, spotted, brown in
color, and the body half an inch in diameter; the spread of the legs is an
inch and a half. It makes a smooth spot for itself on the wall, covered
with the above-mentioned white silky substance. There it is seen standing
the whole day, and I never could ascertain how it fed. It has no web, but
a carpet, and is a harmless, though an ugly neighbor.
Immediately beyond Dilolo
there is a large flat about twenty miles in breadth. Here Shakatwala
insisted on our remaining to get supplies of food from Katema's subjects,
before entering the uninhabited watery plains. When asked the meaning of
the name Dilolo, Shakatwala gave the following account of the formation of
the lake. A female chief, called Moene (lord) Monenga, came one evening to
the village of Mosogo, a man who lived in the vicinity, but who had gone
to hunt with his dogs. She asked for a supply of food, and Mosogo's wife
gave her a sufficient quantity. Proceeding to another village standing on
the spot now occupied by the water, she preferred the same demand, and was
not only refused, but, when she uttered a threat for their niggardliness,
was taunted with the question, "What could she do though she were thus
treated?" In order to show what she could do, she began a song, in slow
time, and uttered her own name, Monenga-wo-o. As she prolonged the last
note, the village, people, fowls, and dogs sank into the space now called
Dilolo. When Kasimakate, the head man of this village, came home and found
out the catastrophe, he cast himself into the lake, and is supposed to be
in it still. The name is derived from "ilolo", despair, because this man
gave up all hope when his family was destroyed. Monenga was put to death.
This may be a faint tradition of the Deluge, and it is remarkable as the
only one I have met with in this country.
Heavy rains prevented us
from crossing the plain in front (N.N.W.) in one day, and the constant
wading among the grass hurt the feet of the men. There is a footpath all
the way across, but as this is worn down beneath the level of the rest of
the plain, it is necessarily the deepest portion, and the men, avoiding
it, make a new walk by its side. A path, however narrow, is a great
convenience, as any one who has traveled on foot in Africa will admit. The
virtual want of it here caused us to make slow and painful progress.
Ants surely are wiser than
some men, for they learn by experience. They have established themselves
even on these plains, where water stands so long annually as to allow the
lotus, and other aqueous plants, to come to maturity. When all the ant
horizon is submerged a foot deep, they manage to exist by ascending to
little houses built of black tenacious loam on stalks of grass, and placed
higher than the line of inundation. This must have been the result of
experience; for, if they had waited till the water actually invaded their
terrestrial habitations, they would not have been able to procure
materials for their aerial quarters, unless they dived down to the bottom
for every mouthful of clay. Some of these upper chambers are about the
size of a bean, and others as large as a man's thumb. They must have built
in anticipation, and if so, let us humbly hope that the sufferers by the
late inundations in France may be possessed of as much common sense as the
little black ants of the Dilolo plains. |