Chapter VI: At the Court of an African King (2)

“Palm oil chop,” a dish consisting of cassava dough and a chicken cooked in palm oil flavoured with red pepper, is by no means a bad breakfast dish taken occasionally, but to live on the stuff is to learn to dislike it. In addition to this, poultry is very difficult to obtain in the Mushenge, so that we had quite frequently to partake of a meal of the manioc dough without the chicken, washed down with water, for we soon came to an end of our tea and coffee, and we carried no wines with us. It appears that during the rising of 1904, when the Bushongo deserted their villages, the chickens died in great numbers, and very few have since been reared, accordingly the fowls one can sometimes obtain are very expensive and very skinny. Although we tried to make the best of things, and to keep up appearances by dining off manioc dough at a table faultlessly appointed (I defy any one who is not in the best of health to attack such a meal if it is badly served up), the starvation soon began to tell upon us. When we left the forest we were feeling the strain of our journey in its terrible climate, and we really needed “feeding up,” so that we were more affected by the lack of supplies than we should have been earlier in our stay in Africa. Torday suffered more than I did; I escaped with neuralgia and loss of strength; but one night Torday was taken very seriously ill, his heart had begun to feel the strain. With nothing whatever in the way of comforts at hand, I think he is remarkably fortunate to have survived the attack; for a night and a day I feared that he might succumb. I suppose that his will power had a good deal to do with his recovery, which was certainly not due to the nourishment that could be found for him. Our clothes, too, had practically come to an end, for we had intended only to spend six months in the basin of the Sankuru, but our visit had extended to over a year, and what with wear and tear, and having to part with garments in exchange for curios, our wardrobes were reduced to very scanty proportions. I had no boots. The ones I brought up country with me, cracked by constant wettings, followed by exposure to the scorching sun, were quite worn out, I was therefore obliged to wear an old pair of canvas shoes, the rubber soles of which quickly wore into holes, letting my feet through on to the ground. It is remarkable how one unconsciously avoids treading upon things that will hurt one when walking in the rough grass of the plains or in the woodlands; although I marched a good deal when wearing these old shoes, for I used to go out every day in a usually unsuccessful search for guinea-fowls, and I made a journey of over a fortnight’s duration to the north-west of the Mushenge, I do not remember once seriously cutting my feet.

We were unlucky in being at the Mushenge when our stores were delayed, for the local tobacco is scarcely smokable, and we are both of us inveterate smokers. In many places the natives grow tobacco which, dried in the native manner, is really not bad, but the Bushongo cook a green leaf over a fire and tear it up and put it in their pipes; this was the only tobacco we could get to smoke, and as it crumbles when dried into a fine powder, it is almost useless in a pipe, and even when carefully rolled in fragments of the weekly edition of the _Times_, it makes a truly disgusting cigarette. The Bushongo themselves, however, appear to thoroughly enjoy it. Concerning the introduction of smoking among them, the Bushongo have a curious legend. Many years ago one of them returned from a long journey, and he was describing to his compatriots the many strange sights that he had seen, when he produced a pipe and some tobacco and commenced to smoke. His companions were astounded—“Look at the man,” they cried, “he is drinking smoke!” The traveller then explained to them wherein the charm of smoking lay, and induced them to try it. When they said that they found it agreeable, he said, “When you have a quarrel with your brother, in your fury you may wish to slay him; sit down and smoke a pipe. When the pipe is finished you will think that perhaps death is too great a punishment for your brother’s offences, and you will decide to let him off with a thrashing. Relight your pipe and smoke on. As the smoke curls upward you will come to the conclusion that a few hard words might take the place of blows. Light up your pipe once more, and when it is smoked through, you will go to your brother and ask him to forget the past.” Living in their very midst, we soon became friendly with all the natives of the Mushenge. For the first week or so of our stay the King used to call upon us and receive our visits, attended by a number of his courtiers, but as he became better acquainted with us, he would visit us unattended, or accompanied only by one or two intimate friends, and would often sit with us until far into the night discussing his kingdom or listening eagerly to everything we told him about Europe. We were astonished to find the ruler of so conservative a people as the Bushongo so progressive in his ideas.

He bitterly regretted the departure of the Roman Catholic missionaries from his village. The priests had received orders to abandon their mission near the Mushenge, and to found a new station at Pangu, near the spot where the waters of the Lubue flow into the Kasai, in order that their medical knowledge might be turned to account in assisting to nurse the sick who would be sent there to a new hospital which the Kasai Company was building. No doubt their work at Pangu has been most useful, and very likely several Europeans by this time owe their lives to their care, but I cannot help thinking that it is a thousand pities that they ever left the Mushenge. One of the two priests was a man who had spent a dozen years in Africa, and who was a great favourite with the Nyimi; with his experience, and the goodwill of the king, his work among the Bushongo might have been wonderful. It may seem strange to say so, but I do not think a missionary could wish for a better field than that offered by the ultra-conservative Bushongo, so long as the missionary knows their history and their religion thoroughly before he attempts to introduce his own faith among them. It is not my purpose here to describe in detail the religious beliefs of the Bushongo—Torday has dealt at length with them elsewhere; but when I say that they contain one God, the creator, and a set of moral laws of an extraordinarily high character, which take the place among the Bushongo occupied in Christendom by the Ten Commandments and the Sermon on the Mount, my readers may begin to think that there is quite a possibility that by tactful management a missionary might be able to convert the legends and precepts of the Bushongo into those of Christianity. But such a work requires a thorough knowledge of the local beliefs, a keen insight into the native character, and great tact combined with patience. I have never been a missionary, and therefore cannot pretend to be able to teach others how to carry on their most difficult work, but I do venture to think that more could be accomplished by becoming intimate with the Nyimi and very gradually bringing to his notice, and to the notice of his elders, points of similarity between the Christian religion and the Bushongo belief, and thus slowly letting the natives regard the former as an amplification of the latter, than by inducing a number of children, too young to have yet learned anything of their tribal religion, to attend Christian services in a mission chapel. The Nyimi is most anxious that all the children of his tribe should learn to read and write, and also that his people should learn such useful crafts as carpentering, &c. For this reason he is anxious that the mission should be re-established near the Mushenge, and the man upon whom the task of re-establishing it devolves will find that the king is predisposed in his favour. When once he has succeeded, by tact and by the example of a strictly fair and honourable life, in winning the affection of the elders and the people, then, I think, he may reasonably hope to be able to slowly introduce his real mission, and to attempt the conversion of the king. But let the missionary understand the native religion as thoroughly as he possibly can before he tries to supplant it with his own, and I am sure that he will find many of the Bushongo beliefs helpful rather than otherwise in his work. If it is the duty of the traveller who, like Torday, goes out to Africa in the interests of ethnographical science to learn what he can of native religions, surely it is the duty of the missionaries to turn the information thus gained to good account.

There is an American Presbyterian Mission at Ibanshe, a few days’ journey to the south of the Mushenge, and another at Luebo; the mission at the capital itself was Roman Catholic; Bushongo children have attended both. It seems to me that the very greatest care must be necessary to avoid the work done by these two branches of the Christian religion injuring one another’s utility. The native children notice difference in their teaching. I know that from remarks made to me by lads who had received instruction at both, and the youthful Bushongo would very likely not be at all averse to discovering what might appear to them contradictory ideas in their doctrines; this would act as a severe check upon the progress of Christianity in the country. I think that not only might the missionary turn to account the intelligence of the Nyimi, but I believe that a resident advisor could easily guide the king into the path of a very enlightened ruler. I have shown that he is progressive in his ideas, and that his tribal laws are far in advance of any one would expect to in an African tribe; I can also say that in character Kwete is remarkably just. We came across several instances of the fairness with which he presides over trials of his subjects, one of which I may quote here. We were sitting one evening endeavouring to make ourselves believe that we were enjoying a remarkably scanty meal of cassava dough and one skinny chicken about as big as an English wood-pigeon, when we were startled by the shrieks of a woman arising from a hut close at hand. We hurried to the spot, and discovered that a man had been practising the brutal habit (very common in Africa) of putting red pepper into his wife’s eyes because she had in some way annoyed him; the pain produced by this diabolical punishment must be terrible. Naturally we were infuriated, and found it very hard to resist the temptation to give the barbarous husband the thrashing he so thoroughly deserved. Instead of touching the man, however, we decided to take him before his chief. Torday remained to prevent him escaping while I went round to see the Nyimi. I found him at his dwelling, and informing him of what had occurred, I requested him to at once put the scoundrel in chains and keep him there for a good long time. “I will have him put in the guard-room by the gates of my courtyard,” replied the chief, “but I cannot put him in chains until I have heard his case in the morning.” In my anger I had asked him to condemn a man unheard, and I had been rightly snubbed for it. Next day the man was brought up before the king and a number of the elders, Torday appearing as counsel for the prosecution, and was sentenced to three weeks in chains. “In chains” simply meant the ignominy of having to sleep in the guard-room, and to walk about in the daytime with a rope tied loosely round his neck, so the culprit got off rather more easily than he deserved; but one must remember that an act of cruelty such as he had committed is not looked upon with so much horror by natives as by ourselves, and to judge by the number of women who came to Torday after this incident to beg for a supply of boracic acid wherewith to bathe their own eyes when their husbands administered red pepper to them, such acts must be far from uncommon. A resident advisor could do more to stamp out such practices as this and the trial by poison ordeal by setting the Nyimi against them, than can be effected by any number of decrees forbidding such things issued from Boma or Brussels. Such an official might, I think, do a lot towards restoring and remodelling according to modern ideas the greatness of the Bushongo nation, which is but a shadow of what it was, say, a hundred years ago. The predecessors of Kwete upon the Bushongo throne were by no means all so enlightened as the great Shamba, or as Kwete himself; numerous cruel tyrants ruled the tribe, men who, in fits of savage passion at some delay in the payment of tribute, have massacred hundreds of their subjects, and who did much to shake the allegiance of many of the remoter districts to the chief.

Now that the white man can prevent the Nyimi from taking summary vengeance on his subjects, even if he desired to do so, some of the sub-tribes of the Bushongo, mindful of the deeds of former days, are by no means so loyal as are the inhabitants of the Mushenge. During our stay at the capital some of the Bangendi, a portion of the tribe living near the Lubudi River, rose against their king. The Nyimi himself set out for the scene of the disturbance, accompanied by a number of his troops (Baluba and Batetela slaves for the most part), who were many of them armed with old muzzle-loading guns. During his absence messengers were constantly arriving at the Mushenge from the scene of the disorder, and reports of severe fighting were quickly circulated. “So-and-so has killed three of the Bangendi with his own hand”—“The king has sent for every man to join him, as the Bangendi are too strong for his force”; such rumours kept the village in a great state of excitement. At last a wounded man was carried home, and we were requested to give him what medical attendance we could. The man had been shot by a gun in the stomach, and after a day or two he succumbed to his injuries, for which we could do little or nothing except endeavour to keep his strength up by administering to him the last remaining item of our European provisions—namely, a bottle of Bovril. When the Nyimi and his men returned we found out that the whole affair had really been remarkably tame. The man who had died was the only one of the king’s followers to be wounded, and the Government troops had appeared upon the scene before serious hostilities could commence; on their arrival the Bangendi had dispersed. I do not know if the insurgents had sustained any losses, but if they did, they could only have been very slight. This affair, insignificant in itself, serves to show that the unity of the Bushongo is not so firm as it was, and with its unity the race has lost much of its former greatness.

We became friendly not only with the Nyimi and the great dignitaries of his Court, but with all classes of natives during our stay at the Mushenge, and particularly with the children; two or three of the king’s little sons, all under seven years of age, and some of their playmates became our constant companions. When we got up in the mornings we would find the children waiting outside the tents eager to be allowed to perform some service for us, such as holding a mirror while we shaved. All day long they would sit beside us in the shed in which we worked, or accompany us upon our rambles round the village, and at meal-times they dearly loved to take the place of a “boy” and hand us our food. We used to spend most of our spare time playing with these youngsters, and I remember once, just after the death of the herald alluded to above, I returned from a search after guinea-fowl to find the children playing the parts of dignitaries at a funeral ceremony, in which Torday, reclining in his deck-chair, was acting as the corpse! The children were very good as a rule, and remarkably fair in all their games and disputes. Two of them, by name Mikope and Mingi Bengela, who were bosom friends really, would fight just after we had partaken of our midday meal. These conflicts were often most amusing, the blows delivered (which, by the way, never landed upon the person of the adversary) were so terrific that their impetus frequently caused the champion who dealt them to sprawl upon the ground, and tears of rage would spring into the hero’s eyes as, time after time, they beat the air. But should another child attempt to do anything so unfair as to touch either combatant during the fray both Mikope and Mingi Bengela, forgetting their own differences, would turn upon the intruder and belabour him as hard as they could. As soon as one of these fights was over (that is to say, when the combatants were weary or when anything else more exciting attracted their attention) it was forgotten, and the two gladiators became as friendly as before their dispute. During the time that food was very scarce I undertook a trip to the north-west of the Mushenge, towards the confluence of the Kasai and Sankuru, in the hope of being able to shoot some game and send the meat back to Torday, for at this time several European travellers were expected at the capital, including a Belgian journalist, a military officer, and Colonel Chaltin, famous in the Arab wars, who had recently become director of the Kasai Company. I stayed in several small villages in a thickly-wooded country, where I tried to obtain an elephant. The natives told me that the forest on the left bank of the Sankuru is rapidly spreading southwards towards the Mushenge, and I was shown several places now clothed thickly with young woods which had been open country in the memory even of natives of about twenty-five years of age. Elephants are fairly numerous in this country, but I was never able to obtain one. They pass their time in the low-lying part of the woodlands, which is mostly submerged and in which the undergrowth is so dense as to render a very near approach necessary before even so large a beast as an elephant can be seen, and when one is continually slipping about on roots concealed from view by the water one can scarcely hope to get very near to a beast without attracting his attention. Upon the only occasion when I did really believe that I should succeed in bagging an elephant the native that accompanied me got such a bad attack of nerves that he bolted, making off in one direction while the elephant retired hurriedly in another, and leaving me to follow him as best I could through a forest swamp with darkness rapidly coming on. I had no choice but to follow the man, for the whole country was under water, often as deep as one’s waist, and I knew that I should have very little chance of getting out of the woods at all if I allowed my companion to get out of sight or earshot. After several unsuccessful attempts to get an elephant I realised that I was wasting time and sending Torday nothing to eat, so I turned my attention to some buffalo which I heard were to be found in a clearing near a tiny village called Ikwembe. Ikwembe was a miserable place, consisting of only about ten extremely dilapidated huts, and the natives, who had probably never received a white man to stay in their village before, did not seem particularly pleased to see me. They were not in the least hostile, of course, for they knew that I travelled under the protection of the king, but I received a very poor welcome. Upon my explaining that I wished to shoot a buffalo, the chief, a very old man with a deformed leg, in which the knee would seem to have been dislocated in early youth and never put into place again, with the result that the limb had not grown properly, informed me that a herd of these animals habitually fed close to the village, and that his people would show me where to search for them. Just as the sun was nearing the horizon, and I was endeavouring to secure a guinea-fowl for my supper, a native came hurrying to call me, having seen five buffalo in the clearing. When I returned, bringing with me the head of one of the beasts, I began to be regarded as a welcome guest, for the Bushongo are not keen enough hunters to often succeed in killing buffaloes themselves. At dawn I sent off my six men (all the porters I had, for I was travelling with practically no baggage) to carry the meat to the Mushenge, of course presenting the inhabitants of Ikwembe with their share, and in the evening I again found the buffaloes and bagged another. On my return to Ikwembe the old chief formally requested me never to leave his village! After a few days, however, in the course of which I added nothing but a duiker to my bag, my popularity began to wane. Unfortunately much of the meat that I sent back to Torday was bad before it reached him, for I had had to wander some distance from the capital to find any game at all. The buffaloes I shot at Ikwembe appear to be “Congo buffaloes,” the _bos caffer nanus_ of naturalists, and I should think they were larger than the animals whose tracks I had seen in the great forest. The bulls are rather darker in colour than the mounted specimen of a “Congo buffalo” from Nigeria in the Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road. Of other game there are very few species, bush-buck and duiker representing the antelope family here as in most of the districts we visited, while the ubiquitous red pig is to be found in the forests. On the whole my shooting trip, though very enjoyable and affording me an opportunity of seeing something of the country and the Bushongo other than the courtiers of the king, was not very profitable as regards the amount of meat sent back to the Mushenge.

In the course of his investigations into the history of the Bushongo, Torday elicited some information which enabled him to form a theory as to the origin of the Bashilele, a people whom I have mentioned in an earlier chapter as attacking the official in charge of Basongo, near the confluence of the Kasai and the Sankuru. From what the Nyimi told him he came to the conclusion that these people and their western neighbours, hitherto known to us as the Tukongo, must be really a branch of the Bushongo stock. Before leaving Europe Torday had conceived a great desire to visit the hitherto unexplored country between Kasai and its tributary the Loange where dwell these two tribes, and now it seemed to him that, in order to complete his study of the Bushongo, it was imperative that we should make a determined effort to get into touch with the peoples whom he believed to be their kinsmen. We learned that the word “Tukongo,” which figures on many maps, is really a misnomer, like the word “Bakuba,” and that the natives of the Loange region call themselves Bakongo, by which name in future I shall refer to them. They are not, however, to be confused with the other Bakongo who inhabit the lower Congo near the coast, with whom they are in no way connected.

The Bashilele and Bakongo bore a bad reputation. They had burnt a factory belonging to the Kasai Company on the banks of the Upper Kasai; they had repulsed with considerable losses two military expeditions directed across their country from the East; and in the North they continually snipe at the soldiers and porters whenever the white officer commanding at Basongo endeavours to penetrate inland from the river bank. This much is true: the Bashilele and Bakongo must plead guilty to this; but with these facts to go upon imaginative persons had endowed the tribes with a truly terrible reputation. They were cannibals of the most debased type, treacherous and warlike; their country consisted of dense forest, in which even a strong escort would be at the mercy of the natives. All the white men to whom we had mentioned our desire to visit the country between the Loange and the Kasai had been fully convinced that if we once succeeded in entering the unknown tract we should never be seen again; but the king of the Bushongo, whose opinion we regarded as of more value than those of Europeans, considered it quite possible that if once we could establish friendly relations with outlying villages of either the Bakongo or Bashilele tribes, we might reasonably hope to be able to cross their territory. Torday therefore decided to proceed to the Kwilu River, where he had previously carried on a great deal of research work among the natives, and to attempt to march overland from the Kwilu River to the Upper Kasai, thereby connecting the work he had done on the Kwilu with that which he had now accomplished in the region of the Sankuru. It was, therefore, with this somewhat ambitious plan in our mind that we left the Mushenge at Christmas 1908, after nearly four months of interesting work at the court of the Nyimi, and returning to the Sankuru at Bolombo, descended the river by steamer to the Kasai Company’s headquarters at Dima.