KONAH HAS A WONDERFUL DAY
One forenoon, two weeks after the rice harvest, the little village was thrown into a state of intense excitement by the news which a messenger had just brought. "White ooman duh come," was the word that passed from mouth to mouth. Scarcely a half dozen of the inhabitants of the village had seen a white woman, and not more than a third of them had seen a white man, therefore with the approach of two white women and three white men, and their carriers and attendants, curiosity and fear wrought the people up to the highest pitch of expectancy. A miscellaneous company of men, women and children, Konah foremost among them, gathered at the edge of the village to stare at the strangers as they entered. The procession that was approaching was rather imposing. The five white people in hammocks, each hammock supported on the heads of four carriers, and a score of other attendants made up the train. Just as they came opposite the group of natives, one of the missionaries, with the kindest of intentions, looked benevolently around at the people, with results quite contrary to his expectations. One old man uttered a cry of terror, ran into a hut and hid himself, and could not be coaxed out while the strangers were in town. Even Konah shrank back, and felt inclined to run. The interpreter soon discovered that the glasses worn by the missionary had occasioned all this alarm. Superstitious imagination transformed these simple pieces of glass into a dangerous witch medicine, that would enable the wearer to blast with dreadful curses the lives of all upon whom he might look, so the harmless glasses had to be laid aside.
The procession moved on to the barreh, where the white people were left while a messenger went to inform the chief. That personage soon appeared in his native dignity, and on being introduced, touched fingertips with each of the white people, who said "How do" to him with pieces of cloth. He welcomed them with the big-hearted hospitality characteristic of his tribe, and called them his "strangers" (guests). Huts were vacated in order to furnish lodgings; and short, quick orders, called out to right and left, sent the people scurrying away to procure rice and fowls for the use of the visitors. Meanwhile a crowd of natives was banked around the barreh, looking on with undisguised wonder. Konah was mounted on the mud wall, taking in every detail with all absorbing interest. A missionary told the chief that if he would call a meeting of his people, they would talk to them the "God-word." The summons was given, and now Konah had another ravishing experience. The carriers had brought out a little organ which the party carried for the purpose of attracting the people. One of the white women sat down before it, ran her fingers over the keys, and lo, the strangest music Konah's ears had ever heard. Then the white people and their followers sang a tender hymn. Konah was so entranced that she forgot herself and her surroundings. She came behind the organist, moved her hands in the air in imitation of the player's movements, and opened her mouth in an unconscious effort to join in the singing. At the close of the services, the interpreter announced that in the evening the white man would again talk the "God-word", and would show "plenty picture." The curious crowd then followed to the barreh, and watched the preparations for dinner. The meal itself brought the greatest revelations yet witnessed. Wonder of wonders, the white men and women ate at the same time, nay, even the men seemed to serve the women, and to be considerate of their desires. Then these strange people used plates, knives, forks and spoons, the necessity for which Konah could not comprehend. Are white men's hands so dirty that they do not eat with them? Is one hand used to cut with, the other to shovel with? were queries that passed through her mind.
Thought of such things was soon dissipated by a matter of more immediate interest. A lump of sugar was handed to a woman who was standing at the end of a row of natives. She took the lump, drew her tongue across it in one long delicious lick, and passed it on to her neighbor. Here the performance was repeated, and the sugar passed on down the line, becoming visibly smaller at every exchange. It disappeared entirely just before it reached the end of the line, and the last man was compelled to content himself with licking the fingers that had last held the sweetness.
After the dinner was over, some of the people, thinking that the interesting part of the show was ended, went away, but Konah and many others had no thought of going. Emboldened by the gentle voice and kindly smile of the white women, Konah drew near, touched the soft hands, and examined the dress, but most she wondered at the wealth of wavy hair in such contrast with the short kinky covering of her own curly pate. The missionary, seeing that not only the child, but many of the women as well were deeply interested, graciously undid her hair, and as it tumbled down, a wavy flood, reaching far below her waist, amazed ejaculations burst from the beholders, and excited gesticulations gave expression to feelings for which they could not find words. When the first ecstasy of wonder was over, Konah put out her hand timidly, and drew the soft hair through her fingers. But the missionary, who had learned to look through the eyes down into the soul, had marked Konah as one of those peculiarly bright and promising beings sometimes found in darkest surroundings.
Calling the interpreter, she learned all she could about the child, told her about the mission school, and asked her to come there and be taught all the wonders the white people know. Konah was deeply interested, and more than anxious to go, but of course the question was not hers to decide. Sobah and Mamenah were not so easily persuaded, though they were so far impressed by the first interview as to consent to further palaver on the same subject after the evening service.
The time of the evening meeting found a crowd of two or three hundred people assembled; the organ was again played, a prayer of tender sympathy was offered, and then the magic lantern was brought into use. This created another sensation, and held the audience as under a spell, as picture after picture was thrown upon the canvas, representing the life and the crucifixion of the Saviour of men. At the same time, that simple yet extraordinary life-story was told, with all its display of love and self-sacrifice for the good of others. It was a doctrine absolutely new and incomprehensible to the natives, who knew only the law of self-interest, yet some glimmerings of this new and gentler light began to break in upon their minds, and to send touches of warmth into their hearts.
It was evident that Sobah had been impressed with the events of the day and evening, so after the meeting adjourned, the missionaries went to the appointed conference with renewed hope. The palaver was long and earnest. Sobah craved the opportunity to investigate new things, and the offer of employment in connection with the mission boats was very attractive, yet it is no easy matter to break with the environments and habits of a lifetime. Besides, procrastination is part of the life of the black man, and so the final decision was postponed until morning. After the missionaries went away to their lodgings, some of their native helpers remained, at Konah's urgent request, to talk further of life at the mission school. Countless were the questions asked and answered.
"Oh," said the girl, who was giving the information, "dey talk de God-word, dey show plenty picture, dey make we sabbee book, learn we fo' sew clo'es, en—" as an inspiration came to her, "dey pull story."
This was a delightful prospect indeed, and Konah, much elated, wanted to know what kind of stories such people told. This is the sample that was given her.
[THE NEW VERSION OF EVE AND THE APPLE.]
"Fus' tem people no bin deh nah de wuld. God say make we pull (create) one man lek we. So he pull one man en one ooman. So nar heah God's people wey he pull. He pull de garden fo' um too. He pull every t'ing fo' den yeat, but one tree he say make yo' no yeat. Satan sen' snake fo' tempt um. De snake walker up lek pusson. He say: 'God story 'pon yo'; yo' no go die; make yo' yeat de fruit.' Den de ooman go pick de plum en yeat um. Den de ooman go tell de man, he say: 'De fruit sweet, make yo' come yeat um.' Den de man come pick de plum en yeat um. Ebenin' tem God bring de light en go look fo' dem, en dey go hide under one tree. God call, dey no answer, but God fine um en say: 'Dat fruit I say make yo' no yeat, yo' bin yeat um?'
"Dey say: 'Yes, one man come en say make we yeat um.'
"Den God punish de people. He say ef dis ooman born pickin, de snake go bite pickin foot. Den God punish de snake. He say w'en de ooman go walker, he no see de snake, he step 'pon heen head en mas' um flat. Nar dat to Mary, Christ's mudder."
The story seemed to Konah much like the ones she loved so well, except that it introduced characters of which she had not heard until that very day. There were questions she was burning to ask regarding the God who had been mentioned so often that day. The visitors undertook to enlighten her. They represented Him as a being who is always kind, and gentle, and helpful, a willing burden bearer for others.
"God he get big cottah (head-pad) so he kin kare all trouble fo' we," was the striking way in which the last truth was expressed. The large cottah, or head-pad, told Konah plainly that this being was accustomed to carry excessive burdens, but that those should be carried "fo' we," she could only partly understand. Going on with his personal experience, the speaker said: "De goodness of de Lawd toward me, my mout' too narrow fo' talk. I no know how fo' 'press dis tankee of God; he done die fo' we, he get up in t'ree day, he go do good fo' we, he no fo'get we. Ef I holler it no sufficien'. Ef it outside matter, my tongue kin ring lek bell, inside it kin tangle en humbug."
A little later the visitors withdrew, and Konah, carried by her eagerness to the very height of presumption, ventured even to make a direct and final appeal to her father, "Oh, Daddy, make we go."
The father had not yet settled the question, so he commanded curtly: "Shut mout'."
Morning came, and with it Sobah's decision to remove to the mission town. Konah was in ecstasy. The people of the village gathered to see the visitors off. As a special mark of friendship Sobah got under one corner of a hammock, and toted it for some distance. Konah was drawn irresistibly to the side of the woman who had put a new warmth into her heart, and a new hope into her life. Lacking the ability to communicate in words, the woman put out her hand. The girl seized it eagerly, and trotted along contentedly by the side of the hammock. Encouraged by Konah's example, other little girls came up and took hold of the hand. Then the other hand was put out, and soon there were as many little girls attached as there were fingers on the hands. They trotted along, laughing and uttering frantic little ejaculations of joy. Whenever a tree crowded too close upon the path, they would loosen their hold, bound around the obstruction, and come back with a cry. So the procession moved on until the river was reached. There the little girls reluctantly halted. Konah stood watching, filled with an intense longing, as the path turned from the further bank of the river, and she saw the last hammock disappear around the bend. Her little heart fluttered with emotion, and her whole childish being reached out from that borderland of darkness, in a mute appeal to be taken along into that warmer, richer light toward which she felt herself drawn by an irresistible attraction. Thus she stood within the shadow, waiting for the coming of the sunshine.
[VOCABULARY]
| Aintee? | Is it not so? |
| Beef | animals. |
| Betty | better. |
| Bin deh | am or was there. |
| Blow | breathe. |
| Bug-a-bug | White Ants, Termes Bellicosus. |
| Bly | basket. |
| Bootoo | stoop, crouch. |
| Calabas' | gourd. |
| Cham | chew. |
| Conk | strike. |
| Cumpin | companion. |
| Deh | there. |
| Dem | they, them, their. |
| Den | they, their, them, then. |
| Do' | door. |
| Do yah | please. |
| Duh | do (auxiliary). |
| Grap | get up. |
| Greedy | begrudge. |
| Hangry | hungry, famine. |
| Hāse | hoist, raise. |
| Hebe | raise, throw. |
| He, heen, him | his. |
| Hō'se | house. |
| Hush yah | term of condolence. |
| Leelee | little. |
| Lek | like, as. |
| Lef | leave, left. |
| Mate | an associate—wife. |
| Nah | at, from, in, on, to. |
| Nar | is, are, was. |
| Net | night. |
| No mo' | nothing more, merely. |
| Oonah | you. |
| Pin | place, put down. |
| Pickin | pickaninny. |
| Pull | create, tell. |
| Ress | rice. |
| Sabbee | know. |
| San'-san' | sand. |
| Sebbeh | charm. |
| Shabe | divide. |
| Soso | merely. |
| Sotáy | until. |
| 'Tan' | stand. |
| Tay | until, for, a long time. |
| Tem | time. |
| 'Tick | tree, stick. |
| Wey | what, which, who, where, since. |
| Yase | ears. |
| Yi | eye. |
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Wa'm fiah, i.e. warm themselves by the fire.
[2] These words represent the sound made by sharpening the axe.
[3] Sotáy he trow 'way nah groun', i.e. until it overflows upon the ground.
[4] Puttah-puttah, i.e. black mud deposited upon the banks of rivers or pools.
[5] i.e., It is play; I am playing; I am merely playing.
[6] i.e., There was no chance for improvement. It was a hopeless case.
[7] "Heen" refers to Deer. The proposal to wrestle with the little child appeared foolish in the Deer's estimation.
[8] "Long tem" is usually, as in this case, the equivalent of a long time ago. The remote past, rather than duration, is intended.
[9] "Done use me too much," i.e. He is too accustomed to me.
[10] "No deny," i.e. Do not doubt his ability.
[11] When into the darkness of a mud hut the first rays of dawn penetrate sufficiently to afford from within a clear-cut outline of the door-way, the time is designated by "do' clean."
[12] "So-so san'-san' lef' no mo'," i.e. merely sand was left, nothing more. The fire kindled by the terrible combat had consumed everything combustible. This is a characteristic African hyperbole. See also the much exaggerated statement of the space covered by the combat, and of the size of the cup that each animal was required to empty at one draught.
[13] "Do," often accompanied by a low cringing inclination of the body and clasped hands, is a very strong form of entreaty.
[14] The use of America and England, in the comparison, comes from the vaguest possible conception of those countries, derived in this instance, it may be supposed, from information picked up by Sobah during his visits to Freetown. The series, America, England and Freetown, is intended to form a climax.
[15] This is a characteristic circumlocution. It means that the goat is not scratching, but is swimming, as he did a long time ago.
[16] "He no bin 'tan' lek," i.e. Did not stand like, did not appear as he does.
[17] "He gie um four, four," i.e. He gave four to each.
[18] To better insure their safety against invading tribes, the people live in villages, often mud-walled, and go at day-break to their farms, where a hut, or a thatched roof supported by poles, serves as temporary abode and shelter. In order to indulge undisturbed his inordinate appetite, Spider plans to be left alone at night upon his farm, when the other members of the household return to the village.
[19] "He no 'tay agin," i.e., It did not stay, was a short time.
[20] The country-fashion man is a sort of African seer, who seats himself upon the ground, spreads a white cloth in front of him, throws upon it small stones and bits of various things, and in some way from these makes his predictions, fumbling in an apparently aimless way, and muttering to himself, or to the spirits of darkness with which he claims to be in communion. This is about as much as the uninitiated and curious can learn in regard to "Looking the ground."
[21] The wax referred to exudes from a tree called by the natives "chockooh." It is very tenacious.
[22] "'Tick-'poon" i.e. a stick used as a substitute for a spoon.
[23] "Hush yah," or "as-yah," is the strongest expression of sympathy in the Sierra Leone dialect.
[24] "Wey t'ing do de place far so?" i.e., Why is the place so far?
[25] To an African mind, everything in the least unusual needs to be accounted for. Consequently some solution, however fanciful, must be offered for the slow locomotion of such a pompous appearing character in the native stories as the Chameleon. Raising one foot after the other slowly, very slowly, he puts it down with a meditative precision that leads the people to ascribe to him these words: "I duh walker, mash (take) one step, den odder step. Ef I walker hard I go sink de groun', de groun' go bus', he too sof', en bimeby de wuld go broke. Dat make I duh walker soffle, so I no fa' down."
[26] Native lack of management, and shiftlessness in providing for the future by planting a sufficient amount of rice, cause, for the great mass of the people, an annual scarcity of food just preceding the season of ingathering. Add to this the frequent wars, and the occasional devastations by locusts, and the explanation is afforded for the famines so frequently mentioned in the oral literature concerning the animals, the pathetic sharers in the suffering of their human friends.
[27] The native rope is a vine that grows in the jungle, and which is sufficiently strong to serve the purposes of a rope. Fastened to a large stone it even holds a boat at anchor.
[28] "Put Bundo" signifies to initiate into the mysteries of the Bundo, a powerful secret organization for women.
[29] The initiation lasts for several weeks, during which period the candidates are not allowed to mingle with the people of the town. A supply of food is therefore necessary, and it is this supply that Spider asks the chief to provide.
[30] The native jug for storing palm-oil, is a joint of bamboo, stopped up at both ends, or a gourd.
[31] The customary way for the chief to issue a proclamation is to send a town crier around, after the people have gathered in the town for the night.
[32] "Pull de Bundo" signifies a public display just after initiation, a procession with songs and dances. For this purpose special and numerous ornaments, and gaudy but scant covering are worn on the partially nude bodies, which are tattooed and greased until they shine.
By the query: "Which side yo' duh pull de Bundo," the chief implies that the preparatory rites over which Spider has been supposed to preside are at an end, and a statement should be made as to the place where the new members are to be introduced to the public.
[33] "Lock" means merely "close," as no stronger method for securing a door is known than bracing a stick against it. Sometimes a door is only a suspended mat.
[34] The Mory men, or Mohammedans, travel over the country, gaining a living by working on the credulity of the superstitious folk. They manufacture "sebbys" or charms, of which the most common are bits of Arabic writing, usually taken from the Koran, and enclosed in black leather of square or oblong shape, measuring an inch or two. These charms are worn around neck, wrists or ankles.
Natives will sacrifice almost any other possession to procure such charms. Their awed faith in the potency of charms and fetiches is one of the most dumbly pathetic facts in African life.
[35] The cutlass is the general purpose tool used for cutting away underbrush, for harvesting, and even for the felling of forest trees.
[36] "Humbug" in the Sierra Leone dialect always means "trouble", and contains no suggestion of trickery. The thought here is: Let the person give himself no trouble.
[37] The following account of how Mr. Spider cooks his rice before he goes to capture the animal from which he makes the stew for the rice, is an exaggerated illustration of the African tendency to allow each hour to provide for its need. The custom, however, is to cook the rice, set it aside to steam under a grass-woven cover, until the stew is made, and finally to wash the calabashes, i. e. gourds which serve as bowls for food and water. Usually eating from the pot dispenses with the last part of the ceremony.
[38] A circular pad worn upon the head when "toting" a hammock or other burden.
[39] Beard.
[40] "No able um", i. e. Was not able to surpass him.
[41] The prophet bird is about the size of a hummingbird. It utters notes which are believed to indicate danger or success, especially when heard at the beginning of a journey, or just preceding the beginning of some task. The sounds from the tiny throat are sufficient to reverse the best laid plans, or to establish greater confidence in them.
[42] The accent falls upon the first syllable of the verb, the pronunciation being the same as that of the noun.
[43] [For explanation of "half side," see Introduction, page 21.]
[44] The man's house signifies the hut assigned to him by the chief on his arrival in the town. This custom supplies the lack of hotels.
[45] Craw-craw is a very prevalent skin disease, a species of itch not very contagious.
[46] When the men choose to clothe themselves further than with the customary loin cloth, they wear a long loose gown of hand-spun and woven cloth. Often this has a large pocket sewed on the front.
[47] The kola is eaten to still the pangs of hunger, and because an appetite for it is easily acquired. Then its intense bitterness becomes sweet. The white kolas are slightly preferred to the pink, either being given as a token of friendship and hospitality.
[48] One country cloth is thought to be sufficient bed for anyone. The evident purpose of the little boy in asking for a "pile" of clothes is to give the devil a task requiring much time, in order to delay his designs against the young woman.
[49] "Trongah yase," i.e., "strong ears," wilful disregard of advice.
[50] "Wey t'ing dat?" i.e. What (thing) is that?
[54] The coal referred to is charcoal. The natives know nothing of the natural product.
[55] "De bigness of he foot," i. e. leg. In the dialect the foot and hand may include the leg and arm, there being no distinctive terms for each.
[56] A barreh is a public meeting-place. A town has one or more, according to the population. It consists of a mud floor surrounded by a wall two or three feet high, and covered by a projecting grass or palm thatch. It is absolutely devoid of furnishings, unless there may be a hammock, or one or two bamboo stools, occasionally a crude chair, made of peculiarly forked sticks.
[57] "Dey mine um sotay he begin use dem," i.e. The boys cared for the animal until it became accustomed to them.
[58] The mortar and pestle are used in all homes for beating rice. The fanners are flat woven trays, on which the rice, after it is pounded, is shaken to remove the chaff.
[59] A common sight among the natives is a little child busily engaged in picking the lice from the woolly head of some older person. Sometimes the child's place is taken by the pet monkey. If the monkey fails to find the object of his search, he loses his temper, and expresses his feelings in strong language, and in boxing the person's head.
[60] 'It will not be my fault if anybody is killed.'
[61] "Palm-ile" is the general term meaning fat or oil of any kind.
[62] The Manekky society is a secret organization for murdering the infirm and the incurable.
[63] "'Tronger yase" i.e., strong ears, obstinacy.
[64] Watch-pot is the usual expression for a protracted call, the chief aim of which is to remain until the next meal is prepared and served. Such a stay has an air of deliberation about it, something like taking one's knitting and remaining for tea.
[65] The "clo'es" were pieces of cloth for the customary present, which the stranger offers as indirect payment for the hospitality he expects to receive.
[66] As soon as a death is reported, the people gather around the corpse, and, prone upon the ground, indulge in the wildest lamentations and cries. This duty is especially incumbent upon the women, and their wailing and grovelling, accompanied by writhings and contortions of the body, must be something like the death-wail of the lost.
[67] Coffins are unknown to native life. The dead are wrapped in white cloth and grass woven mamats and laid in shallow graves.
[68] The place of burial for a baby, especially if it be the first, is usually a refuse heap, the belief being that if the child is too deeply mourned and honored, the parents will have no more offspring. A second child is buried nearer the house; while the most honorable interment given an older person, is within the house. The "bush" and the road-side, receive the majority of the dead.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:
Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Otherwise, the author's original spelling, punctuation and hyphenation have been left intact.