NEW VIEWS OF NATIVES.
Among the Bechuana tribes the government is patriarchal, and each man is chief over his own children. Livingstone writes of them: "They build their huts around his, and the greater the number of children, the more his importance increases. Hence, children are esteemed one of the greatest blessings, and are always treated kindly.
"Near the center of each circle of huts there is a spot called a 'kotla' with a fireplace; here they work, eat, or sit and gossip over the news of the day. A poor man attaches himself to the kotla of a rich one, and is considered a child of the latter.
"An under-chief has a number of these circles around his; and the collection of kotlas around the great one in the middle of the whole, that of the principal chief, constitutes the town. The circle of huts immediately around the kotla of the chief is composed of the huts of his wives and those of his blood relations.
"They are fond of the relationship to great families. If you meet a party of strangers, and the head man's relationship to some uncle of a certain chief is not at once proclaimed by his attendants, you may hear him whispering, 'Tell him who I am.' This usually involves a counting on the fingers of a part of his genealogical tree, and ends in the important announcement that the head of the party is half-cousin to some well-known ruler."
On one occasion, when Livingstone attempted to hold his first public religious service, a great chief remarked that it was one of the customs of his nation to ask questions when any new subject was brought before them, and begged to be allowed to do so on this occasion.
Livingstone's description of the interview is interesting, since it gives us some idea of the intelligence of this untaught child of nature: "On expressing my willingness to answer his questions, he inquired if my forefathers knew of a future judgment. I replied in the affirmative, and began to describe the scene of the 'great white throne, and him who shall sit on it, from whose face the heaven and earth shall flee away,' etc. He said, 'You startle me; these words make all my bones to shake; I have no more strength in me; but my forefathers were living at the same time as yours were, and how is it that they did not send them word about these terrible things sooner? They all passed away into darkness without knowing whither they were going.'
"I got out of the difficulty by explaining the geographical barriers in the north, and the gradual spread of knowledge from the south, to which we first had access by means of ships; and I expressed my belief that, as Christ had said, the whole world would yet be enlightened by the Gospel.
"Pointing to the great Kalahari Desert, he said, 'You never can cross that country to the tribes beyond; it is utterly impossible even for us black men, except in certain seasons, when more than the usual supply of rain falls, and an extraordinary growth of watermelons follows. Even we who know the country would certainly perish without them.'"
The watermelon may well be considered the most surprising plant of the desert. In certain years, when more than the usual amount of rain has fallen, vast tracts of country are literally covered with these melon plants. Years ago, when the annual fall of rain was greater than it is now, the natives were in the habit of sending trading parties to the lake section each year.
Now, according to Livingstone's accounts, these extraordinary rains occur only once in ten or eleven years, with the subsequent abundance of melons. When such an event occurs, not only man, but animals of every description, rejoice over the rich harvest. The elephant, monarch of the forest, fairly revels in the fruit; and the rhinoceros, though his tastes are naturally so very different from the elephant's, is equally fond of it. Not only do the antelopes feed upon it with eagerness, but even the lions, hyenas, jackals, and mice seem to recognize its merits and to appreciate this blessing of an agreeable, succulent food in an arid soil.
True, all of these melons are not eatable. Some are sweet; others are bitter, so that the Boers invariably speak of the fruit as the bitter watermelon, and make no distinction between the varieties.
The natives, in selecting the fruit, strike each melon with a hatchet; and then, to distinguish between the bitter and the sweet ones, apply the tongue to the aperture in each. The bitter melons are harmful, but the sweet ones are considered very wholesome. Bees often convey the pollen from the blossoms of a bitter melon vine to those of a sweet variety and completely change the character and flavor of its fruit.
The inhabitants of the Kalahari Desert consist of the nomadic Bushmen and a tribe said to be the oldest of the Bechuana tribes. The Bushmen are the aborigines of the country, and live in the desert from choice. Their chief food consists of the flesh of game, eked out by such roots, beans, and fruit as the women can collect.
In the hot sandy plains they are generally thin, with wiry frames capable of enduring hardship and privation. Many are of small stature, though by no means dwarfish. Nomadic in their taste, they never cultivate the soil, nor rear any domestic animals, unless it be a few wretched dogs. They possess an intimate knowledge of the habits of the various game animals, and follow them from place to place as their lawful prey.
The descendants of the ancient Bechuana tribes at one time possessed enormous herds of the large horned animals; when despoiled of these, they were driven into the desert, which thus by compulsion became their home.
They are very different in their tastes and habits from the Bushmen. Though subjected to the same influences of climate, and obliged to endure the same thirst, and to subsist upon practically the same food, they stand a race distinct in itself.
They have all the Bechuana love for agriculture and domestic animals. They hoe their gardens annually, though often all they can hope for is a supply of melons and pumpkins. They rear with great care, too, small herds of goats, though they have been known to be obliged to obtain water for them out of small wells with a bit of ostrich eggshell or by the spoonful.
These people have a great dread of strange tribes of Bechuanas, and choose their residences far from the water pits which would naturally attract wayfarers. Not unfrequently they hide all outward signs of such pits by filling them with sand and by making a fire over them.
The women of the desert take great pride in their ability to bear pain. A mother will say to her little girl from whose foot she has just extracted a thorn, "Now, ma, you are a woman; a woman does not cry."
A curious ceremony is held to train young women to endure the hardships of carrying water. Clad in a dress composed of ropes made of alternate pumpkin seeds and bits of reed strung together, and wound round the body in a figure-of-eight fashion, a number of them are drilled by an old woman of the tribe, until they become accustomed to bear fatigue, and can carry large pots of water without complaint. It is no uncommon thing to find scars upon the forearm, which have been made by bits of burning charcoal. These, without doubt, were inflicted to test the power of the young women to bear pain.
Among the tribes in the country about the Leeambye River they have no stated day of rest, except the day after the appearance of the new moon. At that time the people refrain from going to their gardens.
A curious custom prevails among the black tribes beyond the Bechuanas. They watch eagerly for the first glimpse of the new moon, and when they perceive the faint outline after the sun has set deep in the west, they utter a loud shout of 'Kuā!' and short prayers to it. Livingstone's men, for instance, called out, "Let our journey with the white man be prosperous! Let our enemies perish, and the children of Nake become rich! May he have plenty of meat on this journey."
At one time in his journeyings, Livingstone was entertained by a party of musicians, consisting of three drummers and four performers on the piano. The drums were neat instruments cut from the trunk of a tree. They had a small hole in the side covered with a bit of spider's web. The ends were covered with antelope skin fastened on by pegs. When the drummers wished to tighten the drumhead, they held it over the fire to make it contract. There were no drumsticks, for the instrument was beaten with the hands.
The piano, as described by Livingstone, consists of two bars of wood placed side by side, sometimes quite straight, sometimes bent round so as to resemble half the tire of a carriage wheel. Across these are placed about fifteen wooden keys, each of which is two or three inches broad, and fifteen or eighteen inches long. Their thickness is regulated according to the deepness of the note required. Each of the keys has a calabash beneath it, from the upper part of which a portion is cut off to enable it to embrace the bar and form a hollow sounding-board to the key; and little drumsticks produce the music. Rapidity of execution was much admired, and the music was pleasant to the ear.
On one occasion Livingstone was exhibiting the pictures of a magic lantern. The first picture shown was that of Abraham in the act of uplifting the knife with which to slay Isaac. After the picture had been explained, he attempted to move the slide, when the uplifted dagger appeared to be moving towards the interested spectators. Thinking it was to be sheathed in their own bodies, all the women with one accord rushed off helter-skelter, tumbling over each other, and shouting "Mother! mother!" Over the idol huts and tobacco bushes they fled like startled fawns, nor could one of them be induced to return. Their chief, however, sat bravely through the exhibition and afterwards examined the lantern with great interest.
Many of the native tribes are very superstitious, and will not touch food offered to them by other tribes. Among themselves they stand upon much ceremony. Each man has his own hut where he has his fire. Should it go out he will build it afresh rather than to take live coals from a neighbor.
In the deep, dark forest near each village, idols were frequently met. Some were intended to represent the human head or a lion's; others were merely crooked sticks smeared with medicine. Sometimes a little pot of medicine was found in a shed, or miniature huts with little mounds of earth in them.
In the darker recesses of the forest, outlines of human faces cut in the bark of trees were seen. The outlines of these bearded heads bore a close resemblance to those found on Egyptian monuments. At frequent intervals cuts were made on the trees along the path, and offerings of small pieces of massive roots or ears of maize placed on the branches attracted the attention.
Every few miles were found heaps of sticks to which each passer-by contributed. Again, a few sticks were placed in the path, and each traveler turned from his course to one side as though fearing to commit a sacrilege.
Poor and ignorant as these savages were, their fears seemed intensified by the gloom of the forest recesses, and they appeared to be ever striving to propitiate by their offerings some higher order of being, who might hold sway there.
Many of the tribes were found to have a strong belief in the power of charms for good or evil. This belief seemed productive of honest and gentle dealing among the natives; while the fear that even the weak and helpless might work injury to those stronger than themselves, through their knowledge of the nature of these charms, often held in check those who might otherwise have been despotic in their dealings.
At one of the villages a man showed the grave of his child, and with much display of feeling told how she had been burned to death in her hut. He had come to the place with all his family, and had built huts around it, in order to weep for her. His fear was that if her grave should be left unguarded, witches might come and bewitch the remaining relatives by placing medicines on the grave.
The people of the Barotse tribe have a very decided belief in the continued existence of the spirits of the departed. Livingstone mentions that one of his men suffering from a headache said sadly and thoughtfully, "My father is scolding me because I do not give him any of the food I eat." Upon being asked where his father was, he answered, "Among the Barimo."
Along the banks of the Quilo the country, when visited by Livingstone, was occupied by natives who had once been sold as slaves and afterwards freed. Though far from their old homes, they seemed contented and happy.
This section of country was full of villages. Food was abundant, and little labor was necessary to cultivate the soil. The ground was so rich that it was not necessary to fertilize it. Whenever a garden became too poor to produce good crops of maize and millet, the owner of it immediately broke ground a little farther into the forest, applying fire to the roots of the larger trees to kill them, and cutting down the smaller ones. This done, his new rich garden was ready for planting.
Such a garden usually presented the appearance of a large number of tall dead trees stripped of their bark, with maize growing between them. The deserted gardens often continued to produce manioc for many years after their owners had sought new spots for their crops of maize and millet.
The character and temperament of the owners of the various gardens in the villages could be easily detected. Sometimes whole villages were the picture of neatness. Others seemed enveloped in a perfect wilderness of weeds growing to such a height that even when sitting on the back of an ox in the midst of a village one could see only the tops of the huts. If a stranger should enter one of these villages at midday the owners would come forth in an indolent fashion, sometimes pipe in hand, or leisurely puffing away in dreamy indifference.
In some of the villages weeds were not allowed to grow, and cotton, tobacco, and various plants used as food were planted around the huts. Fowls were kept in cages, and the gardens were pleasant pictures of grain and pulse in different stages of growth.
Every village swarmed with children, who turned out in crowds, and ran along with strange cries and antics, to see the white man pass.