The uncivilized races of men in all countries of the world; vol. 1 of 2 / Being a comprehensive account of their manners and customs, and of their physical, social, mental, moral and religious characteristics

by J. G. Wood

THE MPONGWÉ.

Upon the Gaboon River is a well-known negro tribe called Mpongwé.

Perhaps on account of their continual admixture with traders, they approach nearer to civilization than those tribes which have been described, and are peculiarly refined in their manners, appearance, and language. They are very fond of dress, and the women in particular are remarkable for their attention to the toilet. They wear but little clothing, their dark, velvet-like skin requiring scarcely any covering, and being admirably suited for setting off the ornaments with which they plentifully bedeck themselves.

Their heads are elaborately dressed, the woolly hair being frizzed out over a kind of cushion, and saturated with palm oil to make it hold together. Artificial hair is also added when the original stock is deficient, and is neatly applied in the form of rosettes over the ears. A perfumed bark is scraped and applied to the hair, and the whole edifice is finished off with a large pin of ivory, bone, or ebony.

When their husbands die, the widows are obliged to sacrifice this cherished adornment and go about with shaven heads, a custom which applies also to the other sex in time of mourning. In this country mourning is implied by the addition of certain articles to the ordinary clothing, but, among the Mpongwé, the case is exactly reversed. When a woman is in mourning she shaves her head and wears as few and as bad clothes as possible; and when a man is in mourning, he not only shaves his head, but abandons all costume until the customary period is over.

The women wear upon their ankles huge brass rings made of stair rods, and many of them are so laden with these ornaments that their naturally graceful walk degenerates into a waddle; and if by chance they should fall into the water, they are drowned by the weight of their brass anklets.

The Mpongwés are a clever race, having a wonderful aptitude for languages and swindling. Some of the men can speak several native dialects, and are well versed in English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese, using their accomplishments for the purpose of cheating both of the parties for whom they interpret. They are very clever at an argument, especially of that kind which is popularly known as “special pleading,” and will prove that black is white, not to say blue or red, with astonishing coolness and ingenuity.

Clever, however, as they are, they are liable to be cheated in their town by their own people—if indeed those can be said to be cheated who deliberately walk into the trap that is set for them. They will come down to the coast, impose upon some unwary trader with their fluent and plausible tongues, talk him into advancing goods on credit, and then slink off to their villages, delighted with their own ingenuity. As soon, however, as they reach their homes, the plunderers become the plundered. Indeed, as Mr. W. Reade well remarks, “There are many excellent business men who in private life are weak, vain, extravagant, and who seem to leave their brains behind them. Such are the Mpongwés, a tribe of commercial travellers, men who prey upon ignorance in the bush, and are devoured by flattery in the town.”

As soon as the successful trader returns to his village, he is beset by all his friends and relations, who see in him a mine of wealth, of which they all have a share. They sing his praises, they get up dances in his honor, they extol his generosity, eating and drinking all the while at his expense, and never leaving him until the last plantain has been eaten and the last drop of rum drunk. He has not strength of mind to resist the flattery which is heaped upon him, and considers himself bound to reward his eulogists by presents. Consequently, at the end of a week or two he is as poor as when he started on his expedition, and is obliged to go off and earn more money, of which he will be robbed in a similar manner when he returns.

These feasts are not very enticing to the European palate, for the Mpongwé have no idea of roasting, but boil all their food in earthen vessels. They have little scruple about the different articles of diet, but will eat the flesh of almost any animal, bird, or reptile that they can kill.

Among the Mpongwé, the government is much the same as that of the other tribes in Western Equatorial Africa. The different sub-tribes or clans of the Mpongwé are ruled by their headmen, the principal chief of a district being dignified with the title of king. Dignity has, as we all know, its drawbacks as well as its privileges, and among the Mpongwé it has its pains as well as its pleasures. When once a man is fairly made king, he may do much as he likes, and is scarcely ever crossed in anything that he may desire. But the process of coronation was anything but agreeable, and utterly unlike the gorgeous ceremony with which civilized men are so familiar.

(1.) FATE OF THE WIZARD.
(See [page 523].)

(2.) CORONATION.
(See [page 527].)

The new king is secretly chosen in solemn conclave, and no one, not even the king elect, knows on whom the lot has fallen. On the seventh day after the funeral of the deceased sovereign, the name of the new king is proclaimed, and all the people make a furious rush at him. They shout and yell at him; they load him with all the terms of abuse in which their language is so prolific; and they insult him in the grossest manner.

One man will run up to him and shout, “You are not my king yet!” accompanying the words with a sound box on the ear. Another flings a handful of mud in his face, accompanied by the same words, another gets behind him and administers a severe kick, and a third slaps his face. For some time the poor man is hustled and beaten by them until his life seems to be worthless, while all around is a crowd of disappointed subjects, who have not been able to get at their future monarch, and who are obliged to content themselves by pelting him with sticks and stones over the heads of their more fortunate comrades, and abusing him, and his parents, and his brothers, sisters, and all his relatives for several generations. This part of the ceremony of coronation is [illustrated] on the previous page.

Suddenly the tumult ceases, and the king elect, bruised, mud-bespattered, bleeding, and exhausted, is led into the house of his predecessor, where he seats himself. The whole demeanor of the people now changes, and silent respect takes the place of frantic violence. The headmen of the tribe rise and say, “Now we acknowledge you as our king; we listen to you, and obey you.” The people repeat these words after them, and then the crown and royal robes are brought. The crown is always an old silk hat, which, by some grotesque chance, has become the sign of royalty in Western Africa. The state robes are composed of a red dressing-gown, unless a beadle’s coat can be procured, and, arrayed in this splendid apparel, the new king is presented to his subjects, and receives their homage.

A full week of congratulations and festivities follows, by the end of which time the king is in sad need of repose, strangers from great distances continually arriving, and all insisting on being presented to the new king. Not until these rites are over is the king allowed to leave the house.

M. du Chaillu was a witness of the remarkable ceremony which has just been described, and which took place on the coronation of a successor to the old King Glass, who, as is rather quaintly remarked, “stuck to life with a determined tenacity, which almost bid fair to cheat Death. He was a disagreeable old heathen, but in his last days became very devout—after his fashion. His idol was always freshly painted and highly decorated; his fetish was the best cared-for fetish in Africa, and every few days some great doctor was brought down from the interior, and paid a large fee for advising the old king. He was afraid of witchcraft; thought that everybody wanted to put him out of the way by bewitching him; and in this country your doctor does not try to cure your sickness; his business is to keep off the witches.”

The oddest thing was, that all the people thought that he was a powerful wizard, and were equally afraid and tired of him. He had been king too long for their ideas, and they certainly did wish him fairly dead. But when he became ill, and was likely to die, the usual etiquette was observed, every one going about as if plunged in the deepest sorrow, although they hated him sincerely, and were so afraid of his supernatural powers that scarcely a native dared to pass his hut by night, and no bribe less than a jug of rum would induce any one to enter the house. At last he died, and then every one went into mourning, the women wailing and pouring out tears with the astonishing lachrymal capability which distinguishes the African women, who can shed tears copiously and laugh at the same time.

On the second day after his death old King Glass was buried, but the exact spot of his sepulture no one knew, except a few old councillors on whom the duty fell. By way of a monument, a piece of scarlet cloth was suspended from a pole. Every one knew that it only marked the spot where King Glass was not buried. For six days the mourning continued, at the end of which time occurred the coronation, and the chief Njogoni became the new King Glass.

The mode of burial varies according to the rank of the deceased. The body of a chief is carefully interred, and so is that of a king, the sepulchre of the latter being, as has just been mentioned, kept a profound secret. By the grave are placed certain implements belonging to the dead person, a stool or a jug marking the grave of a man, and a calabash that of a woman. The bodies of slaves are treated less ceremoniously, being merely taken to the burying-ground, thrown down, and left to perish, without the honors of a grave or accompanying symbol.

Like other dwellers upon river banks, the Mpongwé are admirable boatmen, and display great ingenuity in making canoes. The tree from which they are made only grows inland, and sometimes, when a large vessel is wanted, a suitable tree can only be found some eight or ten miles from the shore. If a canoe maker can find a tree within two or three miles from the water, he counts himself a lucky man; but, as the trees are being continually cut up for canoe making, it is evident that the Mpongwé are continually driven further inland.

When a Mpongwé has settled upon a tree which he thinks will make a good canoe, he transplants all his family to the spot, and builds a new homestead for himself, his wives, his children, and his slaves. Sometimes he will economize his labor, and pitch his encampment near three or four canoe trees, all of which he intends to fashion into vessels before he returns to his village. When the trees are felled, and cut to the proper length—sixty feet being an ordinary measurement—they are ingeniously hollowed by means of fire, which is carefully watched and guided until the interior is burnt away. The outside of the tree is then trimmed into shape with the native adze, and the canoe is ready. A clever man, with such a family, will make several such canoes during a single dry season.

The next and most important business is to get the canoes to the water. This is done by cutting a pathway through the wood, and laboriously pushing the canoe on rollers. In some cases, when the canoe tree is nearer the sea than the river, the maker takes it direct to the beach, launches it, and then paddles it round to the river.

CHAPTER LI.
THE FANS.

LOCALITY OF THE TRIBE — THEIR COLOR AND GENERAL APPEARANCE — THE KING OF THE FANS — AN UGLY QUEEN — A MIXED CHARACTER — HOSPITALITY AND CURIOSITY — FIERCE AND WARLIKE NATURE — THEIR CONQUERING PROGRESS WESTWARD — WAR-KNIVES, AXES, AND SPEARS — SKILL IN IRON WORK — THE FAN CROSS-BOW AND ITS DIMINUTIVE ARROWS — WAR SHIELDS AND THEIR VALUE — ELEPHANT HUNTING — THE WIRE NET AND THE SPEAR TRAP — FAN COOKERY, AND DIET IN GENERAL — MORTARS AND COOKING POTS — EARTHEN PIPE-BOWLS — CRAVING FOR MEAT — FATE OF THE SHEEP.

The remarkable tribe which now comes before our notice inhabits a tract of land just above the Equator, and on the easternmost known limits of the Gaboon River. Their name for themselves is Ba-Fanh, i. e. the Fan-people, and they are known along the coast as the Pasuen.

That they are truly a singular people may be inferred from the terse summary which has been given of them,—namely, a race of cannibal gentlemen. Their origin is unknown; but, as far as can be gathered from various sources, they have come from the north-east, their bold and warlike nature having overcome the weaker or more timid tribes who originally possessed the land, and who, as far as can be ascertained, seem to have been allied to the curious dwarfish race which has been described on [page 482].

They cannot be called negroes, as they are not black, but coffee colored; neither do they possess the enormous lips, the elongated skull, nor the projecting jaws, which are so conspicuous in the true negro. In many individuals a remarkable shape of the skull is to be seen, the forehead running up into a conical shape. Their figures are usually slight, and their upper jaw mostly protrudes beyond the lower, thus giving a strange expression to the countenance.

The men are dressed simply enough, their chief costume being a piece of bark cloth, or, in case the wearer should be of very high rank, the skin of a tiger-cat, with the tail downward. They have a way of adding to their natural heads of hair a sort of queue, exactly like that of the British sailor in Nelson’s days, making the queue partly out of their own hair, and partly from tow and other fibres. It is plaited very firmly, and is usually decorated with beads, cowries, and other ornaments. The beard is gathered into two tufts, which are twisted like ropes, and kept in shape by abundant grease.

The king of the Fans, Ndiayai by name, was noted for his taste in dress. His queue divided at the end into two points, each of which was terminated by brass rings, while a number of white beads were worn at the top of his head. His entire body was painted red, and was also covered with boldly-drawn tattoo marks. Round his waist he had twisted a small piece of bark cloth, in front of which hung the tuft of leopard skin that designated his royal authority. The whole of the hair which was not gathered into the queue was teased out into little ropelets, which stood well out from the head, and were terminated by beads or small rings. His ankles were loaded with brass rings, which made a great jingling as he walked, and his head was decorated with the red feathers of the touraco. His teeth were filed to points, and painted black, and his body was hung with quantities of charms and amulets.

The women wear even less costume than the men. Unmarried girls wear none at all, and, even when married, a slight apron is all that they use. On their heads they generally wear some ornament, and the wife of Ndiayai—who, as Du Chaillu remarks, was the ugliest woman he had ever seen—had a cap covered with white shells, and had made tattooing, with which her whole body was covered, take the place of clothing. She certainly wore a so called dress, but it was only a little strip of red Fan cloth, about four inches wide. Two enormous copper rings were passed through the lobes of her ears, which they dragged down in a very unsightly manner, and on her ankles were iron rings of great weight. These were her most precious ornaments, iron being to the Fans even more valuable than gold is among ourselves. Apparently from constant exposure, her skin was rough like the bark of a tree.

Most of the married women wear a bark belt about four inches wide, which passes over one shoulder and under the other. This is not meant as an article of dress, but only a sort of cradle. The child is seated on this belt, so that its weight is principally sustained by it, and it can be shifted about from side to side by merely changing the belt from one arm to the other. The women are, as a rule, smaller in stature than the men, and are not at all pretty, what pretence to beauty they may have being destroyed by their abominable practice of painting their bodies red, and filing their teeth to sharp points.

From the accounts of those who have mixed with them, the Fans present a strange jumble of characters. They practise open and avowed cannibalism—a custom which is as repulsive to civilized feelings as can well be imagined. They are fierce, warlike, and ruthless in battle, fighting for the mere love of it, with their hand against every man. Yet in private life they are hospitable, polite, and gentle, rather afraid of strangers, and as mildly inquisitive as cats. Both Du Chaillu and Mr. Reade agree in these points, and the latter has given a most amusing account of his introduction to a Fan village. He had been previously challenged on the Gaboon River by a Fan, who forbade the boat to pass, but, on being offered a brass rod per diem as a recompense for his services as guide, “grinned horribly a ghastly smile,” which showed his filed teeth, and agreed to conduct the party to the next village. He kept his word like a man, and brought the boat to a village, where our author made his first acquaintance with the tribe.

“I examined these people with the interest of a traveller; they hailed me with the enthusiasm of a mob. The chief’s house, to which I had been conducted, was surrounded by a crowd of cannibals, four deep; and the slight modicum of light which native architecture permits to come in by the door was intercepted by heads and parrots’ feathers. At the same time, every man talked as if he had two voices. Oshupu obtained me a short respite by explaining to them that it was the habit of the animal to come out to air himself, and to walk to and fro in the one street of the village. Being already inured to this kind of thing, I went out at sunset and sat before the door. Oshupu, squatting beside me, and playing on a musical instrument, gave the proceeding the appearance of a theatrical entertainment.

“And this taught me how often an actor can return the open merriment of the house with sly laughter in his sleeve. One seldom has the fortune to see anything so ludicrous on the stage as the grotesque grimaces of a laughing audience. But oh, if Hogarth could have seen my cannibals! Here stood two men with their hands upon each other’s shoulders, staring at me in mute wonder, their eyes like saucers, their mouths like open sepulchres. There an old woman, in a stooping attitude, with her hands on her knees, like a cricketer ‘fielding out;’ a man was dragging up his frightened wife to look at me, and a child cried bitterly with averted eyes. After the Fans had taken the edge off their curiosity, and had dispersed a little, I rose to enjoy my evening promenade. All stared at me with increasing wonder. That a man should walk backward and forward with no fixed object is something which the slothful negro cannot understand, and which possibly appears to him rather the action of a beast than of a human being.

“It was not long before they contrived to conquer their timidity. I observed two or three girls whispering together and looking at me. Presently I felt an inquisitive finger laid on my coat, and heard the sound of bare feet running away. I remained in the same position. Then one bolder than the rest approached me, and spoke to me smiling. I assumed as amiable an expression as Nature would permit, and touched my ears to show that I did not understand. At this they had a great laugh, as if I had said something good, and the two others began to draw near like cats. One girl took my hand between hers, and stroked it timidly; the others, raising toward me their beautiful black eyes, and with smiles showing teeth which were not filed, and which were as white as snow, demanded permission to touch this hand, which seemed to them so strange. And then they all felt my cheeks and my straight hair, and looked upon me as a tame prodigy sent to them by the gods; and all the while they chattered, the pretty things, as if I could understand them.

“Now ensued a grand discussion; first my skin was touched, and then my coat, and the two were carefully compared. At length one of them happened to pull back my coat, and on seeing my wrist they gave a cry, and clapped their hands unanimously. They had been arguing whether my coat was of the same material as my skin, and an accident had solved the mystery.

“I was soon encircled by women and children, who wished to touch my hands, and to peep under my cuffs—a proceeding which I endured with exemplary patience. Nor did I ever spend half an hour in a Fan village before these weaker vessels had forgotten that they had cried with terror when they first saw me; and before I also had forgotten that these amicable Yaricos would stew me in palm oil and serve me up before their aged sires, if so ordered, with as little reluctance as an English cook would crimp her cod, skin her eels alive, or boil her lobsters into red agony.”

The Fans are a fierce and warlike people, and by dint of arms have forced their way into countries far distant from their own, wherever that may have been. No tribes have been able to stand against them, and even the large and powerful Bakalai and Shekiani have had to yield up village after village to the invaders, so that in some parts all these tribes are curiously intermingled; and all these are at war with each other. The Fans, however, are more than a match for the other two, even if they were to combine forces, which their short-sighted jealousy will not permit them to do; and by slow degrees the Bakalai and Shekiani are wasting away, and the Fans taking their places. They have even penetrated into the Mpongwé country, so that they proceed steadily from the east toward the seaboard.

The progress made by the Fans has been astonishingly rapid. Before 1847 they were only known traditionally to the sea-shore tribes as a race of warlike cannibals, a few villages being found in the mountainous region from which the head waters of the Gaboon River take their origin. Now they have passed westward until they are within a few miles of the sea-coast and are now and then seen among the settlements of the traders.

Every Fan becomes a warrior when he obtains the age of manhood, and goes systematically armed with a truly formidable array of weapons. Their principal offensive weapon is the huge war-knife, which is sometimes three feet in length, and seven inches or so in width.

Several forms of these knives are shown in the [illustration] on page 558. The general shape is much like that of the knives used in other parts of Western Africa. That on the left hand ([fig. 1]) may almost be called a sword, so large and heavy is it. In using it, the Fan warrior prefers the point to the edge, and keeps it sharpened for the express purpose. Another form of knife is seen in [fig. 2]. This has no point, and is used as a cutting instrument. Many of them have also a smaller knife, which they use for cutting meat, and other domestic purposes, reserving the large knives entirely for battle.

All these knives are kept very sharp, and are preserved in sheaths, such as are seen in the [illustration]. The sheaths are mostly made of two flat pieces of wood, slightly hollowed out, so as to receive the blade, and covered with hide of some sort. Snake skin forms a favorite covering to the sheaths, and many of the sheaths are covered with human skin, torn from the body of a slain enemy. The two halves of the sheath are bound together by strips of raw hide, which hold them quite firmly in their places.

Axes of different kinds are also employed by the Fans. One of these bears a singular resemblance to the [Neam-Nam war-knife], as seen on page 437, and is used in exactly the same manner, namely, as a missile. Its head is flat and pointed, and just above the handle is a sharp projection, much like that on the Neam-Nam knife. When the Fan warrior flings his axe, he aims it at the head of the enemy, and has a knack of hurling it so that its point strikes downward, and thus indicts a blow strong enough to crush even the hard skull of a native African.

Spears are also used, their shafts being about six or seven feet in length, and of some thickness. They are used for thrusting, and not for throwing, and their heads are of various shapes. There is a very good group of them in the museum of the Anthropological Society, exhibiting the chief forms of the heads. These spears, as well as the shield which accompanies them, were brought to England by M. du Chaillu, to whom we are indebted for most of our knowledge concerning this remarkable tribe. Some of the spear heads are quite plain and leaf-shaped, while others are formed in rather a fantastical manner. One, for example, has several large and flat barbs set just under the head, another has only a single pair of barbs, while a third looks much like the sword-knife set in the end of a shaft, and so converted into a spear.

All their weapons are kept in the best order, their owners being ever ready for a fray; and they are valued in proportion to the execution which they have done, the warriors having an almost superstitious regard for a knife which has killed a man. Their weapons are all made by themselves, and the quality of the steel is really surprising. They obtain their iron ore from the surface of the ground, where it lies about plentifully in some localities. In order to smelt it, they cut a vast supply of wood and build a large pile, laying on it a quantity of the ore broken into pieces. More wood is then thrown on the top, and the whole is lighted. Fresh supplies of wood are continually added, until the iron is fairly melted out of the ore. Of course by this rough mode of procedure, a considerable percentage of the metal is lost, but that is thought of very little consequence.

The next business is to make the cast-iron malleable, which is done by a series of beatings and hammerings, the result being a wonderfully well-tempered steel. For their purposes, such steel is far preferable to that which is made in England; and when a Fan wishes to make a particularly good knife or spear head, he would rather smelt and temper iron for himself than use the best steel that Sheffield can produce.

The bellows which they employ are made on exactly the same principle as those which have several times been mentioned. They are made of two short hollow cylinders, to the upper end of which is tied a loose piece of soft hide. A wooden handle is fixed to each skin. From the bottoms of the cylinders a wooden pipe is led, and the two pipes converge in an iron tube. The end of this tube is placed in the fire, and the bellows-man, by working the handles up and down alternately, drives a constant stream of air into the fire.

Their anvils and hammers are equally simple; and yet, with such rude materials, they contrive, by dint of patient working, to turn out admirable specimens of blacksmith’s work. All their best weapons are decorated with intricate patterns engraven on the blades, and, as time is no object to them, they will spend many months on the figuring and finishing of a single axe blade. The patterns are made by means of a small chisel and a hammer. Some of their ruder knives are not intended as weapons of war, but merely as instruments by which they can cut down the trees and brushwood that are in the way when they want to clear a spot for agriculture. It will now be seen why iron is so valuable a commodity among the Fans, and why a couple of heavy anklets made of this precious metal should be so valued by the women.

There is one very singular weapon among the Fans. Perhaps there is no part of the world where we could less expect to find the crossbow than among a cannibal tribe at the head of the Gaboon. Yet there the crossbow is regularly used as an engine of war, and a most formidable weapon it is, giving its possessors a terrible advantage over their foes. The ingenuity exhibited in the manufacture of this weapon is very great, and yet one cannot but wonder at the odd mixture of cleverness and stupidity which its structure shows. The bow is very strong, and when the warrior wishes to bend it he seats himself on the ground, puts his foot against the bow, and so has both hands at liberty, by which he can haul the cord into the notch which holds it until it is released by the trigger. The shaft is about five feet long, and is split for a considerable portion of its length. The little stick which is thrust between the split portions constitutes the trigger, and the method of using it is as follows:—

Just below the notch which holds the string is a round hole through which passes a short peg. The other end of the peg, which is made of very hard wood, is fixed into the lower half of the split shaft, and plays freely through the hole. When the two halves of the shaft are separated by the trigger, the peg is pulled through the hole, and allows the cord to rest in the notch. But as soon as the trigger is removed the two halves close together, and the peg is thus driven up through the hole, knocking the cord out of the notch. I have in my collection a Chinese crossbow, the string of which is released on exactly the same principle.

Of course, an accurate aim is out of the question, for the trigger-peg is held so tightly between the two halves of the shaft that it cannot be pulled out without so great an effort that any aim must be effectually deranged. But in the use of this weapon aim is of very little consequence, as the bow is only used at very short ranges, fifteen yards being about the longest distance at which a Fan cares to expend an arrow. The arrows themselves are not calculated for long ranges, as they are merely little strips of wood a foot or so in length, and about the sixth of an inch in diameter. They owe their terrors, not to their sharpness, nor to the velocity with which they are impelled, but to the poison with which their tips are imbued. Indeed, they are so extremely light that they cannot be merely laid on the groove of the shaft, lest they should be blown away by the wind. They are therefore fastened in their place with a little piece of gum, of which the archer always takes care to have a supply at hand. Owing to their diminutive size, they cannot be seen until their force is expended, and to this circumstance they owe much of their power. They have no feathers, neither does any particular care seem to be taken about their tips, which, although pointed, are not nearly as sharp as those of the tiny arrows used by the Dyaks of Borneo, or the Macoushies of the Essequibo.

The poison with which their points are imbued is procured from the juice of some plant at present unknown, and two or three coatings are given before the weapon is considered to be sufficiently envenomed. The Fans appear to be unacquainted with any antidote for the poison, or, if they do know of any, they keep it a profound secret. The reader may remember a parallel instance among the Bosjesmans, with regard to the antidote for the poison-grub.

Besides these arrows, they use others about two feet in length, with iron heads, whenever they go in search of large game; but in warfare, the little arrow is quite strong enough to penetrate the skin of a human being, and is therefore used in preference to the larger and more cumbrous dart.

The only defensive weapon is the shield, which is made from the hide of the elephant. It varies slightly in shape, but is generally oblong, and is about three feet long by two and a half wide, so that it covers all the vital parts of the body. The piece of hide used for the shield is cut from the shoulders of the elephant, where, as is the case with the pachyderms in general, the skin is thickest and strongest. No spear can penetrate this shield, the axe cannot hew its way through it, the missile knife barely indents it, and the crossbow arrows rebound harmlessly from its surface. Even a bullet will glance off if it should strike obliquely on the shield. Such a shield is exceedingly valuable, because the skin of an elephant will not afford material for more than one or two shields, and elephant-killing is a task that needs much time, patience, courage, and ingenuity. Moreover, the elephant must be an old one, and, as the old elephants are proverbially fierce and cunning, the danger of hunting them is very great.

Like other savages, the Fan has no idea of “sport.” He is necessarily a “pot-hunter,” and thinks it the most foolish thing in the world to give the game a fair chance of escape. When he goes to hunt, he intends to kill the animal, and cares not in the least as to the means which he uses. The manner of elephant hunting is exceedingly ingenious.

As soon as they find an elephant feeding, the Fans choose a spot at a little distance where the monkey vines and other creepers dangle most luxuriantly from the boughs. Quietly detaching them, they interweave them among the tree trunks, so as to make a strong, net-like barrier, which is elastic enough to yield to the rush of an elephant, and strong enough to detain and entangle him. Moreover, the Fans know well that the elephant dreads anything that looks like a fence, and, as has been well said, may be kept prisoner in an enclosure which would not detain a calf.

When the barrier is completed, the Fans, armed with their spears, surround the elephant, and by shouts and cries drive him in the direction of the barrier. As soon as he strikes against it, he is filled with terror, and instead of exerting his gigantic strength, and breaking through the obstacle, he struggles in vague terror, while his enemies crowd round him, indicting wound after wound with their broad-bladed spears. In vain does he strike at the twisted vines, or endeavor to pull them down with his trunk, and equally in vain he endeavors to trample them under foot. The elastic ropes yield to his efforts, and in the meanwhile the fatal missiles are poured on him from every side. Some of the hunters crawl through the brush, and wound him from below; others climb up trees, and hurl spears from among the boughs: while the bolder attack him openly, running away if he makes a charge, and returning as soon as he pauses, clustering round him like flies round a carcass.

This mode of chase is not without its dangers, men being frequently killed by the elephant, which charges unexpectedly, knocks them down with a blow of the trunk, and then tramples them under foot. Sometimes an unfortunate hunter, when charged by the animal, loses his presence of mind, runs toward the vine barrier, and is caught in the very meshes which he helped to weave. Tree climbing is the usual resource of a chased hunter; and, as the Fans can run up trees almost as easily as monkeys, they find themselves safer among the branches than they would be if they merely tried to dodge the animal round the tree trunks.

The Fans also use an elephant trap which is identical in principle with that which is used in killing the hippopotamus,—namely, a weighted spear hung to a branch under which the elephant must pass, and detached by a string tied to a trigger. The natives are assisted in their elephant-hunting expeditions by the character of the animal. Suspicious and crafty as is the elephant, it has a strong disinclination to leave a spot where it finds the food which it likes best; and in consequence of this peculiarity, whenever an elephant is discovered, the Fans feel sure that it will remain in the same place for several days, and take their measures accordingly.

When they have killed an elephant, they utilize nearly the whole of the enormous carcass, taking out the tusks for sale, using the skin of the back for shields, and eating the whole of the flesh. To European palates the flesh of the elephant is distasteful, partly on account of its peculiar flavor, and partly because the cookery of the native African is not of the best character. M. du Chaillu speaks of it in very contemptuous terms. “The elephant meat, of which the Fans seem to be very fond, and which they have been cooking and smoking for three days, is the toughest and most disagreeable meat I ever tasted. I cannot explain its taste, because we have no flesh which tastes like it, but it seems full of muscular fibre or gristle; and when it has been boiled for two days, twelve hours each day, it is still tough. The flavor is not unpleasant; but, although I had tried at different times to accustom myself to it, I found only that my disgust grew greater.”

Whether elephant meat is governed by the same culinary laws as ox meat remains to be seen; but, if such be the case, the cook who boiled the meat for twenty-four hours seems to have ingeniously hit upon a plan that would make the best beef tough, stringy, tasteless, and almost uneatable. Had it been gently simmered for six hours, the result might have been different; but to boil meat for twenty-four hours by way of making it tender is as absurd as boiling an egg for the same period by way of making it soft.

As to their diet in general, the Fans do not deserve a very high culinary rank. They have plenty of material, and very slight notions of using it. The manioc affords them a large portion of their vegetable food, and is particularly valuable on account of the ease with which it is cultivated, a portion of the stem carelessly placed in the ground producing in a single season two or three large roots. The leaves are also boiled and eaten. Pumpkins of different kinds are largely cultivated, and even the seeds are rendered edible. M. du Chaillu says that during the pumpkin season the villages seem covered with the seeds, which are spread out to dry, and, when dried, they are packed in leaves and hung in the smoke over the fireplace, in order to keep off the attacks of an insect which injures them.

When they are to be eaten, they are first boiled, and then the skin is removed. The seeds are next placed in a mortar together with a little sweet oil, and are pounded into a soft, pulpy mass, which is finally cooked over the fire, either in an earthen pot or in a plantain leaf. This is a very palatable sort of food, and some persons prefer it to the pumpkin itself.

The mortars are not in the least like those of Europe, being long, narrow troughs, two feet in length, two or three inches deep, and seven or eight wide. Each family has one or two of these small implements, but there are always some enormous mortars for the common use of the village, which are employed in pounding manioc. When the seed is pounded into a paste, it is formed into cakes, and can be kept for some little time.

The cooking pots are made of clay, and formed with wonderful accuracy, seeing that the Fans have no idea of the potter’s wheel, even in its simplest forms. Their cooking pots are round and flat, and are shaped something like milk pans. They also make day water bottles of quite a classical shape, and vessels for palm wine are made from the same material. These wine jars are shaped much like the amphoræ of the ancients. The clay is moulded by hand, dried thoroughly in the sun, and then baked in a fire. The exterior is adorned with patterns much like those on the knives and axes.

The Fans also make the bowls of their pipes of the same clay, but always form the stems of wood. The richer among them make their pipes entirely of iron, and prefer them, in spite of their weight and apparent inconvenience, to any others. They also make very ingenious water bottles out of reeds, and, in order to render them water tight, plaster them within and without with a vegetable gum. This gum is first softened in the fire, and laid on the vessel like pitch. It has a very unpleasant flavor until it is quite seasoned, and is therefore kept under water for several weeks before it is used.

Like some other savage tribes, the Fans have a craving for meat, which sometimes becomes so powerful as to deserve the name of a disease. The elephant affords enough meat to quell this disease for a considerable time, and therefore they have a great liking for the flesh of this animal. But the great luxury of a Fan is the flesh of a sheep, an animal which they can scarcely ever procure. Mr. W. Reade, in his “Savage Africa,” gives a most amusing description of the sensation produced among his Fan boatmen:—

“Before I left the village I engaged another man, which gave me a crew of eight. I also purchased a smooth-skinned sheep, and upon this poor animal, as it lay shackled in our prow, many a hungry eye was cast. When it bleated the whole crew burst into one loud carnivorous grin. Bushmen can sometimes enjoy a joint of stringy venison, a cut off a smoked elephant, a boiled monkey, or a grilled snake; but a sheep—a real domestic sheep!—an animal which had long been looked upon as the pride of their village, the eyesore of their poorer neighbors—which they had been in the habit of calling ‘brother,’ and upon whom they had lavished all the privileges of a fellow-citizen!

“That fate should have sent the white and wealthy offspring of the sea to place this delicacy within their reach was something too strong and sudden for their feeble minds. They were unsettled; they could not paddle properly; their souls (which are certainly in their stomachs, wherever ours may be) were restless and quivering toward that sheep, as (I have to invent metaphors) the needle ere it rests upon its star.

“When one travels in the company of cannibals, it is bad policy to let them become too hungry. At mid-day I gave orders that the sheep should be killed. There was a yell of triumph, a broad knife steeped in blood, a long struggle; then three fires blazed forth, three clay pots were placed thereon, and filled with the bleeding limbs of the deceased. On an occasion like this, the negro is endowed for a few moments with the energy and promptitude of the European. Nor would I complain of needless delay in its preparation for the table—which was red clay covered with grass. The mutton, having been slightly warmed, was rapidly devoured.

“After this they wished to recline among the fragments of the feast, and enjoy a sweet digestive repose. But then the white man arose, and exercised that power with which the lower animals are quelled. His look and his tone drew them to their work, though they did not understand his words.”

CHAPTER LII.
THE FANS—Concluded.

CANNIBALISM AND ITS DEVELOPMENT AMONG THE FANS — NATIVE IDEAS ON THE SUBJECT — EXCHANGE OF BODIES BETWEEN VILLAGES — ATTACK ON A TOWN AND ROBBERY OF THE GRAVES — MATRIMONIAL CUSTOMS — BARGAINING FOR A WIFE — COPPER “NEPTUNES” — THE MARRIAGE FEAST — RELIGION OF THE FANS — THE IDOL HOUSES — LOVE OF AMULETS — DANCE IN HONOR OF THE NEW MOON — PLAYING THE HANDJA — ELEPHANTS CAUGHT BY THE FETISH — PROBABLE CHARACTER OF THE “FETISH” IN QUESTION — THE GORILLA AND ITS HABITS — A GORILLA HUNT BY THE FANS — USE OF THE SKULL.

The preceding story naturally brings us to the chief characteristic of the Fans,—namely, their cannibalism.

Some tribes where this custom is practised are rather ashamed of it, and can only be induced to acknowledge it by cautious cross-questioning. The Fans, however, are not in the least ashamed of it, and will talk of it with perfect freedom—at least until they see that their interlocutor is shocked by their confession. Probably on this account missionaries have found some difficulty in extracting information on the subject. Their informants acknowledged that human flesh was eaten by their tribe, but not in their village. Then, as soon as they had arrived at the village in which cannibalism was said to exist, the inhabitants said that the travellers had been misinformed. Certainly their tribe did eat human flesh, but no one in their village did so. But, if they wanted to see cannibalism, they must go back to the village from which they had just come, and there they would find it in full force.

Knowing this peculiarity, Mr. W. Reade took care to ask no questions on the subject until he had passed through all the places previously visited by white men, and then questioned an old and very polite cannibal. His answers were plain enough. Of course they all ate men. He ate men himself. Man’s flesh was very good, and was “like monkey, all fat.” He mostly ate prisoners of war, but some of his friends ate the bodies of executed wizards, a food of which he was rather afraid, thinking that it might disagree with him.

He would not allow that he ate his own relations when they died, although such a statement is made, and has not as yet been disproved. Some travellers say that the Fans do not eat people of their own village, but live on terms of barter with neighboring villages, amicably exchanging their dead for culinary purposes. The Oshebas, another cannibal tribe of the same country, keep up friendly relations with the Fans, and exchange the bodies of the dead with them. The bodies of slaves are also sold for the pot, and are tolerably cheap, a dead slave costing, on the average, one small elephant’s tusk.

The friendly Fan above mentioned held, in common with many of his dark countrymen, the belief that all white men were cannibals. “These,” said a Bakalai slave, on first beholding a white man, “are the men that eat us!” So he asked Mr. Reade why the white men take the trouble to send to Africa for negroes, when they could eat as many white men as they liked in their own land. His interlocutor having an eye to the possible future, discreetly answered that they were obliged to do so, because the flesh of white men was deadly poison, with which answer the worthy cannibal was perfectly satisfied.

Just before M. du Chaillu came among the Fans a strange and wild incident had occurred. It has already been mentioned that the Fans have been for some years pushing their way westward, forming part of the vast stream of human life that continually pours over the great mountain wall which divides Central Africa from the coast tribes. After passing through various districts, and conquering their inhabitants, they came upon a village of the Mpongwé, and, according to their wont, attacked it. The Mpongwé were utterly incapable of resisting these warlike and ferocious invaders, and soon fled from their homes, leaving them in the hands of the enemy. The reader may find an [illustration] of this scene on the next page.

The Fans at once engaged in their favorite pastime of plunder, robbing every hut that they could find, and, when they had cleared all the houses, invading the burial-grounds, and digging up the bodies of the chiefs for the sake of the ornaments, weapons, and tools which are buried with them.

They had filled two canoes with their stolen treasures when they came upon a grave containing a newly-buried body. This they at once exhumed, and, taking it to a convenient spot under some mangrove trees, lighted a fire, and cooked the body in the very pots which they had found in the same grave with it. The reader will remember that the Mpongwé tribe bury with the bodies of their principal men the articles which they possessed in life, and that a chief’s grave is therefore a perfect treasure house.

All bodies, however, are not devoured, those of the kings and great chiefs being buried together with their best apparel and most valuable ornaments.

The matrimonial customs of the Fans deserve a brief notice. The reader may remember that, as a general rule, the native African race is not a prolific one—at all events in its own land, though, when imported to other countries as slaves, the Africans have large families. Children are greatly desired by the native tribes because they add to the dignity of the parent, and the lack of children is one of the reasons why polygamy is so universally practised; and, as a rule, a man has more wives than children. Yet the Fans offered a remarkable exception to this rule, probably on account of the fact that they do not marry until their wives have fairly arrived at woman’s estate. They certainly betroth their female children at a very early age, often as soon as they are born, but the actual marriage does not take place until the child has become a woman, and in the meantime the betrothed girl remains with her parents, and is not allowed that unrestricted license which prevails among so many of the African tribes.

This early betrothal is a necessity, as the price demanded for a wife is a very heavy one, and a man has to work for a long time before he can gather sufficient property for the purchase. Now that the Fans have forced themselves into the trading parts of the country, “trader’s goods” are the only articles that the father will accept in return for his daughter; and, as those goods are only to be bought with ivory, the Fan bridegroom has to kill a great number of elephants before he can claim his wife.

Bargaining for a wife is often a very amusing scene (see [illustration] on next page), especially if the father has been sufficiently sure of his daughter’s beauty to refrain from betrothing her as a child, and to put her up, as it were, to auction when she is nearly old enough to be married. The dusky suitor dresses himself in his best apparel, and waits on the father, in order to open the negotiation.

His business is, of course, to depreciate the beauty of the girl, to represent that, although she may be very pretty as a child of eleven or twelve, she will have fallen off in her good looks when she is a mature woman of fourteen or fifteen. The father, on the contrary, extols the value of his daughter, speaks slightingly of the suitor as a man quite beneath his notice, and forthwith sets a price on her that the richest warrior could not hope to pay. Copper and brass pans, technically called “neptunes,” are the chief articles of barter among the Fans, who, however, do not use them for cooking, preferring for this purpose their own clay pots, but merely for a convenient mode of carrying a certain weight of precious metal. Anklets and armlets of copper are also much valued, and so are white beads, while of late years the abominable “trade-guns” have become indispensable. At last, after multitudinous arguments on both sides, the affair is settled, and the price of the girl agreed upon. Part is generally paid at the time by way of earnest, and the bridegroom promises to pay the remainder when he comes for his wife.

As soon as the day of the wedding is fixed, the bridegroom and his friends begin to make preparations for the grand feast with which they are expected to entertain a vast number of guests. Some of them go off and busy themselves in hunting elephants, smoking and drying the flesh, and preserving the tusks for sale. Others prepare large quantities of manioc bread and plantains, while others find a congenial occupation in brewing great quantities of palm wine. Hunters are also engaged for the purpose of keeping up the supply of meat.

When the day is fixed, all the inhabitants of the village assemble, and the bride is handed over to her husband, who has already paid her price. Both are, of course, dressed in their very best. The bride wears, as is the custom among unmarried females, nothing but red paint and as many ornaments as she can manage to procure. Her hair is decorated with great quantities of white beads, and her wrists and ankles are hidden under a profusion of brass and copper rings. The bridegroom oils his body until his skin shines like a mirror, blackens and polishes his well-filed teeth, adorns his head with a tuft of brightly colored feathers, and ties round his waist the handsomest skin which he possesses.

(1.) ATTACK ON A MPONGWÉ VILLAGE.
(See [page 536].)

(2.) BARGAINING FOR A WIFE.
(See [page 536].)

A scene of unrestrained jollity then commences. The guests, sometimes several hundred in number, keep up the feast for three or four days in succession, eating elephants’ flesh, drinking palm wine, and dancing, until the powers of nature are quite exhausted, and then sleeping for an hour or two with the happy facility that distinguishes the native African. Awaking from their brief slumber, they begin the feast afresh, and after the first few hours scarcely one of the guests is sober, or indeed is expected to be so. At last, however, all the wine is drunk, and then the guests return to an involuntary state of sobriety.

We now come to the religion and superstitions of the Fan tribe. As far as they have any real worship they are idolaters. Each village has a huge idol, specially dedicated to the service of the family or clan of which the inhabitants of the village are composed, and at certain times the whole family assemble together at the idol house or temple, and then go through their acts of worship, which consist chiefly of dancing and singing. Around each of the temples are placed a number of skulls of wild animals, among which the gorilla takes the most conspicuous place. Such spots are thought very sacred, and no one would venture to remove any of the skulls, such an act of desecration being thought a capital offence.

Like many other savage tribes, they are very careless of human life, and have many capital offences, of which witchcraft is the most common. It may seem strange that people who habitually eat the bodies of their fellow-men should have any superstitious feelings whatever, but among the Fans the dread of sorcery is nearly as great as among some of the tribes which have been already mentioned.

Witchcraft, however, is not always punished with death, the offender being sometimes sold into slavery, the “emigrant” ships having of late years received many Fans on board. It will be seen that the Fans always utilize their criminals. Those who are condemned for theft, or other ordinary crime, are executed, and their bodies eaten. But the wizards are supposed to possess some charms which would make their bodies as injurious after death as the culprits had been during life, and so they sell the criminal for “traders’ goods.”

No Fan ever dreams of going without a whole host of amulets, each of which is supposed to protect him from some special danger. The most valuable is one which is intended to guard the wearer in battle, and this is to be found on the person of every Fan warrior who can afford it. It is very simple, being nothing but an iron chain with links an inch and a half long by an inch in width. This is hung over the left shoulder and under the right arm, and is thought to be very efficacious. Perhaps such a chain may at some time or other have turned the edge of a weapon, and, in consequence, the illogical natives have thought that the iron chains were effectual preservatives in war.

Next in value comes a small bag, which is hung round the neck, and which is a conspicuous ornament among the men. This is also a battle fetish, and is made of the skin of some rare animal. It contains bits of dried skin, feathers of scarce birds, the dried tips of monkeys’ tails, the dried intestines of certain animals, shells, and bits of bone. Each article must have been taken from some rare animal, and have been specially consecrated by the medicine man. The warriors are often so covered with these and similar fetishes that they rattle at every step, much to the gratification of the wearer, and even the children are positively laden with fetish ornaments.

The reader will remember that throughout the whole of the tribes which have been described runs a custom of celebrating some kind of religious ceremony when the new moon is first seen. This custom is to be also found among the Fans. It has been graphically described by Mr. W. Reade, as follows:—

“The new moon began to rise. When she was high in the heavens, I had the fortune to witness a religious dance in her honor. There were two musicians, one of whom had an instrument called handja, constructed on the principle of an harmonicon; a piece of hard wood being beaten with sticks, and the notes issuing from calabashes of different sizes fastened below. This instrument is found everywhere in Western Africa. It is called Balonda in Senegambia; Marimba in Angola. It is also described by Froebel as being used by the Indians of Central America, where, which is still more curious, it is known by the same name—Marimba. The other was a drum which stood upon a pedestal, its skin made from an elephant’s ear. The dull thud of this drum, beaten with the hands, and the harsh rattle of the handja, summoned the dancers.

“They came singing in procession from the forest. Their dance was uncouth; their song a solemn tuneless chant; they revolved in a circle, clasping their hands as we do in prayer, with their eyes fixed always on the moon, and sometimes their arms hung wildly toward her. The youth who played the drum assumed a glorious attitude. As I looked upon him—his head thrown back, his eyes upturned, his fantastic headdress, his naked, finely moulded form—I saw beauty in the savage for the first time.

“The measure changed, and two women, covered with green leaves and the skins of wild beasts, danced in the midst, where they executed a pas-de-deux which would have made a première danseuse despair. They accompanied their intricate steps with miraculous contortions of the body, and obtained small presents of white beads from the spectators.

“It has always appeared to me a special ordinance of Nature that women, who are so easily fatigued by the ascent of a flight of stairs, or by a walk to church, should be able to dance for any length of time; but never did I see female endurance equal this. Never did I spend a worse night’s rest. All night long those dreary deafening sounds drove sleep away, and the next morning these two infatuated women were still to be seen within a small but select circle of constant admirers, writhing in their sinuous (and now somewhat odorous) forms with unabated ardor.”

The form of marimba or handja which is used among the Fans has mostly seven notes, and the gourds have each a hole in them covered with a piece of spider’s web, as has already been narrated of the Central African drums. The Fan handja is fastened to a slight frame; and when the performer intends to play the instrument, he sits down, places the frame on his knees, so that the handja is suspended between them, and then beats on the keys with two short sticks. One of these sticks is made of hard wood, but the end of the other is covered with some soft material so as to deaden the sound. The Fans have really some ear for music, and possess some pretty though rudely constructed airs.

Of course the Fans have drums. The favorite form seems rather awkward to Europeans. It consists of a wooden and slightly conical cylinder, some four feet in length and only ten inches in diameter at the wider end, the other measuring barely seven inches. A skin is stretched tightly over the large end, and when the performer plays on it, he stands with bent knees, holding the drum between them, and beats furiously on the head with two wooden sticks.

To return to the Fan belief in charms.

It has already been mentioned that the Fans mostly hunt the elephant by driving it against a barrier artificially formed of vines, and killing it as it struggles to escape from the tangled and twisted creepers. They have also another and most ingenious plan, which, however, scarcely seems to be their own invention, but to be partly borrowed from the tribes through which they have passed in their progress westward. This plan is called the Nghal, that being the name of the enclosure into which the animals are enticed. While Mr. Reade was in the country of the Mpongwé tribe, into which, it will be remembered, the Fans had forced their way, the hunters found out that three elephants frequented a certain portion of the forest. Honorably paying the Mpongwé for permission to hunt in their grounds, they set out and built round an open patch of ground an enclosure, slightly made, composed of posts and railings. Round the nghal were the huts of the Fan hunters. When Mr. Reade arrived there, he was told that the three elephants were within the nghal, sleeping under a tree; and sure enough there they were, one of them being a fine old male with a large pair of tusks. If he had chosen he could have walked through the fence without taking the trouble to alter his pace, but here he was, together with his companions, without the slightest idea of escaping. So certain were the hunters that their mighty prey was safe, that they did not even take the trouble to close the openings through which the animals had entered the nghal. They were in no hurry to kill the elephants. They liked to look at them as they moved about in the nghal, apparently unconscious of the continual hubbub around them, and certainly undisturbed by it. The elephants were to remain there until the new moon, which would rise in a fortnight, and then they would be killed in its honor.

On inquiring, it was found that the enclosure was not built round the elephants, as might have been supposed. No. It was built at some distance from the spot where the elephants were feeding. “The medicine men made fetish for them to come in. They came in. The medicine men made fetish for them to remain. And they remained. When they were being killed, fetish would be made that they might not be angry. In a fortnight’s time the new moon would appear, and the elephants would then be killed. Before that time all the shrubs and light grass would be cut down, the fence would be strengthened, and interlaced with boughs. The elephants would be killed with spears, crossbows, and guns.”

The natives, however, would not allow their white visitor to enter the nghal, as he wished to do, and refused all his bribes of beads and other articles precious to the soul of the Fan. They feared lest the presence of a white man might break the fetish, and the sight of a white face might fright the elephants so much as to make them disregard all the charms that had been laid upon them, and rush in their terror against the fragile barrier which held them prisoners.

As to the method by which the elephants were induced to enter the enclosure, no other answer was made than that which had already been given. In India the enclosure is a vast and complicated trap, with an opening a mile or so in width, into which the elephants are driven gradually, and which is closed behind them as they advance into smaller and smaller prisons. In Africa all that was done was to build an enclosure, to leave an opening just large enough to admit an elephant, to make fetish for the elephants, and in they came.

The whole thing is a mystery. Mr. Reade, who frankly confesses that if he had not with his own eyes seen the nghal and its still open door he would have refused to believe the whole story, is of opinion that the “fetish” in question is threefold. He suggests that the first fetish was a preparation of some plant for which the elephants have the same mania that cats have for valerian and pigeons for salt, and thinks that they may have been enticed into the nghal by means of this herb. Then, after they had been induced to enter the enclosure, that they were kept from approaching the fence by means of drugs distasteful to them, and that the “fetish” which prevented them from being angry when killed was simply a sort of opiate thrown to them. The well-known fastidiousness of the elephant may induce some readers to think that this last suggestion is rather improbable. But it is also known that, in some parts of Africa, elephants are usually drugged by poisoned food, and that the Indian domesticated elephant will do almost anything for sweetmeats in which the intoxicating hemp forms an ingredient.

That the elephants are prevented from approaching the fence by means of a distasteful preparation seems likely from a piece of fetishism that Mr. Reade witnessed. At a certain time of the day the medicine man made his round of the fence, singing in a melancholy voice, and daubing the posts and rails with a dark brown liquid. This was acknowledged to be the fetish by which the elephants were induced to remain within the enclosure, and it is very probable that it possessed some odor which disgusted the keen-scented animals, and kept them away from its influence.

Mr. Reade also suggests that this method of catching elephants may be a relic of the days when African elephants were taken alive and trained to the service of man, as they are now in India and Ceylon. That the knowledge of elephant training has been lost is no wonder, considering the internecine feuds which prevail among the tribes of Africa, and prevent them from developing the arts of peace. But that they were so caught and trained, even in the old classical days, is well known; and from all accounts the elephants of Africa were not one whit inferior to their Indian relatives in sagacity or docility. Yet there is now no part of Africa in which the natives seem to have the least idea that such monstrous animals could be subjected to the sway of man, and even in Abyssinia the sight of elephants acting as beasts of burden and traction filled the natives with half incredulous awe.

When the Fans have succeeded in killing an elephant, they proceed to go through a curious ceremony, which has somewhat of a religious character about it. No meat is touched until these rites have been completed. The whole hunting party assembles round the fallen elephant, and dances round its body. The medicine man then comes and cuts off a piece of meat from one of the hind legs and places it in a basket, there being as many baskets as slain elephants. The meat is then cooked under the superintendence of the medicine man and the party who killed the elephant, and it is then carried off into the woods and offered to the idol. Of course the idol is supposed to eat it, and the chances are that he does so through the medium of his representative, the medicine man. Before the baskets are taken into the woods, the hunters dance about them as they had danced round the elephant, and beseech the idol to be liberal toward them, and give them plenty of elephants so that they may be able to give him plenty of meat.

The spirits being thus propitiated, the flesh is stripped off the bones of the elephant, sliced, and hung upon branches, and smoked until it is dry, when it can be kept for a considerable time.

The reader may remember that one of the principal ornaments of the idol temple is the skull of the gorilla, and the same object is used by several of the tribes for a similar purpose. The fact is, all the natives of those districts in which the gorilla still survive are horribly afraid of the animal, and feel for it that profound respect which, in the savage mind, is the result of fear, and fear only. A savage never respects anything that he does not fear, and the very profound respect which so many tribes, even the fierce, warlike, and well-armed Fans, have for the gorilla, show that it is really an animal which is to be dreaded.

There has been so much controversy about the gorilla, and the history of this gigantic ape is so inextricably interwoven with this part of South Africa, that the present work would be imperfect without a brief notice of it. In the above-mentioned controversy, two opposite views were taken—one, that the gorilla was the acknowledged king of the forest, supplanting all other wild animals, and even attacking and driving away the elephant itself. Of man it had no dread, lying in wait for him and attacking him whenever it saw a chance, and being a terrible antagonist even in fair fight, the duel between man and beast being a combat à l’outrance, in which one or the other must perish.

Those who took the opposite view denounced all these stories as “old wives’ fables, only fit to be relegated to your grandmother’s bookshelves.”—I quote the exact words—saying that the gorilla, being an ape, is necessarily a timid and retiring animal, afraid of man, and running away when it sees him. It is hardly necessary to mention that M. du Chaillu is responsible for many of the statements contained in the former of these theories—several, however, being confessedly gathered from hearsay, and that several others were prevalent throughout Europe long before Du Chaillu published his well-known work.

The truth seems to lie between these statements, and it is tolerably evident that the gorilla is a fierce and savage beast when attacked, but that it will not go out of its way to attack a man, and indeed will always avoid him if it can. That it is capable of being a fierce and determined enemy is evident from the fact that one of Mr. W. Reade’s guides, the hunter Etia, had his left hand crippled by the bite of a gorilla; and Mr. Wilson mentions that he has seen a man who had lost nearly the whole calf of one leg in a similar manner, and who said that he was in a fair way of being torn in pieces if he had not been rescued by his companions. Formidable as are the terrible jaws and teeth of the gorilla when it succeeds in seizing a man, its charge is not nearly so much to be feared as that of the leopard, as it is made rather leisurely, and permits the agile native to spring aside and avoid it.

On account of the structure common to all the monkey tribe, the gorilla habitually walks on all-fours, and is utterly incapable of standing upright like a man. It can assume a partially erect attitude, but with bent knees, stooping body, and incurved feet, and is not nearly so firmly set on its legs as is a dancing bear. Even while it stands on its feet, the heavy body is so ill supported on the feeble legs that the animal is obliged to balance itself by swaying its large arms in the air, just as a rope-dancer balances himself with his pole.

In consequence of the formation of the limbs, the tracks which it leaves are very curious, the long and powerful arms being used as crutches, and the short feeble hind legs swung between them. It seems that each party or family of gorillas is governed by an old male, who rules them just as the bull rules its mates and children.

The natives say that the gorilla not only walks, but charges upon all-fours, though it will raise itself on its hind legs in order to survey its foes. Etia once enacted for Mr. W. Reade the scene in which he had received the wound that crippled his hand. Directing Mr. Reade to hold a gun as if about to shoot, he rushed forward on all-fours, seized the left wrist with one of his hands, dragged it to his mouth, made believe to bite it, and then made off on all-fours as he had charged. And, from the remarkable intelligence which this hideous but polite hunter had shown in imitating other animals, it was evident that his story was a true one.

As to the houses which the gorilla is said to build, there is some truth in the story. Houses they can scarcely be called, inasmuch as they have no sides, and in their construction the gorilla displays an architectural power far inferior to that of many animals. The lodge of the beaver is a palace compared with the dwelling of the gorilla. Many of the deserted residences may be found in the forests which the gorilla inhabits, and look much like herons’ nests on a rather large scale. They consist simply of sticks torn from the trees and laid on the spreading part of a horizontal branch, so as to make a rude platform. This nest, if we may so call it, is occupied by the female, and in process of time is shared by her offspring. The males sleep in a large tree.

Shy and retiring in its habits, the gorilla retreats from the habitations of man, and loves to lurk in the gloomiest recesses of the forest, where it finds its favorite food, and where it is free from the intrusion of man. As to the untamable character of the gorilla as contrasted with the chimpanzee, Mr. Reade mentions that he has seen young specimens of both animals kept in a tame state, and both equally gentle.

We now come to the statement that, while the gorilla is working himself up to an attack, he beats his breast until it resounds like a great drum, giving out a loud booming sound that can be heard through the forest at the distance of three miles. How such a sound can be produced in such a manner it is not easy to comprehend, and Mr. Reade, on careful inquiry from several gorilla hunters, could not find that one of them had ever heard the sound in question, or, indeed, had ever heard of it. They said that the gorilla had a drum, and, on being asked to show it, took their interlocutor to a large hollow tree, and said that the gorilla seized two neighboring trees with his hands, and swung himself against the hollow trunk, beating it so “strong-strong” with his feet that the booming sound could be heard at a great distance.

Etia illustrated the practice of the gorilla by swinging himself against the tree in a similar manner, but failed in producing the sound. However, he adhered to his statement, and, as a succession of heavy blows against a hollow trunk would produce a sort of booming noise, it is likely that his statement may have been in the main a correct one.

Now that the natives have procured fire-arms, they do not fear the gorilla as much as they used to do. Still, even with such potent assistance, gorilla hunting is not without its dangers, and, as we have seen, many instances are known where a man has been severely wounded by the gorilla, though Mr. Reade could not hear of a single case where the animal had killed any of its assailants.

When the native hunters chase the gorilla, and possess fire-arms, they are obliged to fire at very short range, partly because the dense nature of those parts of the forest which the gorilla haunts prevent them from seeing the animal at a distance of more than ten or twelve yards, and partly because it is necessary to kill at the first shot an animal which, if only wounded, attacks its foes, and uses fiercely the formidable weapons with which it has been gifted. Any one who has seen the skull of an adult gorilla, and noticed the vast jaw-bones, the enormous teeth, and the high bony ridges down the head which afford attachment to the muscles, can easily understand the terrible force of a gorilla’s bite. The teeth, and not the paws, are the chief, if not the only weapons which the animal employs; and, although they are given to it in order to enable it to bite out the pith of the trees on which it principally feeds, they can be used with quite as great effect in combat.

So the negro hunter, who is never a good shot, and whose gun is so large and heavy that to take a correct aim is quite out of the question, allows the gorilla to come within three or four yards before he delivers his fire. Sometimes the animal is too quick for him, and in that case he permits it to seize the end of the barrel in its hands and drag it to its mouth, and then fires just as the great jaws enclose the muzzle between the teeth. Seizing the object of attack in the hands, and drawing it to the mouth, seems to be with the gorilla, as with others of the monkey tribe, the ordinary mode of fighting. The hunter has to be very careful that he fires at the right moment, as the gigantic strength of the gorilla enables it to make very short work of a trade gun, if it should happen to pull the weapon out of its owner’s hands. A French officer told Mr. Reade that he had seen one of these guns which had been seized by a gorilla, who had twisted and bent the barrel “comme une papillote.”

The same traveller, who is certainly not at all disposed to exaggerate the size or the power of the gorilla, was greatly struck by the aspect of one that had been recently killed. “One day Mongilambu came and told me that there was a freshly-killed gorilla for sale. I went down to the beach, and saw it lying in a small canoe, which it almost filled. It was a male, and a very large one. The preserved specimen can give you no idea of what this animal really is, with its skin still unshrivelled, and the blood scarcely dry upon its wounds. The hideousness of its face, the grand breadth of its breast, its massive arms, and, above all, its hands, like those of a human being, impressed me with emotions which I had not expected to feel. But nothing is perfect. The huge trunk dwindled into a pair of legs, thin, bent, shrivelled, and decrepid as those of an old woman.”

Such being the impression made on a civilized being by the dead body of a gorilla lying in a canoe, the natives may well be excused for entertaining a superstitious awe of it as it roams the forest in freedom, and for thinking that its skull is a fit adornment for the temple of their chief idol.

To a party of native hunters unprovided with fire-arms, the chase of the animal is a service of real difficulty and danger. They are obliged to seek it in the recesses of its own haunts, and to come to close quarters with it. (See the [illustration] on page 457). The spear is necessarily the principal weapon employed, as the arrow, even though poisoned, does not kill at once, and the gorilla is only incited by the pain of a wound to attack the man who inflicted it. Their fear of the animal is also increased by the superstition which has already been mentioned, that a man is sometimes transformed into a gorilla, and becomes thereby a sort of sylvan demon, who cannot be killed—at all events, by a black man—and who is possessed with a thirst for killing every human being that he meets.

Any specially large gorilla is sure to be credited with the reputation of being a transformed man; and as the adult male sometimes measures five feet six inches or so in height, there is really some excuse for the native belief that some supernatural power lies hidden in this monstrous ape.

After a careful investigation, Mr. Reade has come to the conclusion that, except in point of size, there is no essential difference in the gorilla and the chimpanzee, both animals going usually on all-fours, and both building slight houses or platforms in the trees, both changing their dwelling in search of food and to avoid the neighborhood of man, and both, without being gregarious, sometimes assembling together in considerable numbers.

CHAPTER LIII.
THE KRUMEN AND FANTI.

LOCALITY OF THE KRUMEN — THEIR FINE DEVELOPMENT AND WONDERFUL ENDURANCE — THEIR SKILL IN BOATING — COLOR OF THE KRUMEN — THEIR VERY SIMPLE DRESS — DOUBLE NOMENCLATURE — THEIR USE TO TRAVELLERS — GOVERNMENT OF THE KRUMEN — THEIR LIVELY AND CHEERFUL CHARACTER — DOMESTIC LIFE OF THE KRUMEN — EARNING WIVES — RELIGION OF THE KRUMEN — THE DEITY “SUFFIN” — KRUMAN FUNERAL — THE GRAIN COAST — THE FANTI TRIBE — THEIR NATIVE INDOLENCE — FANTI BOATS AND THEIR MANAGEMENT — THE KRA-KRA DISEASE — A WILD LEGEND — DRESS OF THE FANTI — IDEAS OF A FUTURE STATE.

Along the Grain Coast of Western Africa there is a race of men who come too prominently before European eyes to be omitted from this work. They have, in a degree, lost the habits of their original savage life, but they illustrate so well the peculiar negro character that a small space must be devoted to them.

The name Kru, or Croo, and sometimes Carew, or Crew—so diversified is the orthography of native names—is a corruption of the Grebo word “Kráo.” The tribe inhabits a district about twenty-five or thirty miles along the coast, and extending for a considerable, but uncertain, distance inland. A good many smaller tribes have been gradually absorbed into them, and, as they have adopted the language, manners, and customs, as well as the name of Kráo, we will treat of them all under the same title.

In the “Wanderings of a F. R. G. S.” there is a curious account of the derivation of the word Grebo, one of the absorbed tribes. According to their own tradition, they originally inhabited the interior, and, finding that their district was too thickly populated, a large number of them determined to emigrate westward, and secretly prepared for departure, the majority being averse to the scheme. As they embarked in a hurry, a number of the canoes were upset, but the remainder succeeded in bounding over the waves. The people who were capsized, and were left behind, were therefore called “Waibo,” or the Capsized, while the others took the name of Grebo, from the bounding gray monkey, called Gré.

The Krumen are a fine race, and present a great contrast to the usual slim-limbed and almost effeminate savages of the interior. They are extremely powerful, and are able to paddle for some forty miles at a stretch, without seeming to be the least fatigued at the end of their labors. They are the recognized seamen of the coast, and have made themselves necessary to the traders, and even to Government vessels, as they can stand a wonderful amount of work, and are not affected by the climate like the white sailors.

A Kruman lays himself out for a sailor as soon as he becomes his own master, and is content to begin life as a “boy,” so that he may end it as a “man”—i. e. he hires himself out in order to obtain goods which will purchase a wife for him, and by dint of several voyages he adds to the number of his wives, and consequently to the respect in which he is held by his countrymen.

He is a marvellous canoe man, and manages his diminutive boat with a skill that must be seen to be appreciated. He drives it through the surf with fearless speed, and cares nothing for the boiling water around him. “The Kruman,” writes Mr. Reade, “squats in it on his knees, and bales the water out with one of his feet. Sometimes he paddles with his hands: sometimes, thrusting a leg in the water, he spins the canoe round when at full speed, like a skater on the ‘outside-edge.’ If it should capsize, as the laws of equilibrium sometimes demand, he turns it over, bales it out with a calabash, swimming all the while, and glides in again, his skin shining like a seal’s.”

These singular little canoes are pointed at each end, and crescent-shaped, so that they project fore and aft out of the water. They are very narrow, and are made out of the single trunk of a tree, usually cotton-wood, or a kind of poplar. The interior is first hollowed out with fire, next trimmed with an adze, and the ribs are prevented from collapsing by four or five cross-sticks. They are very massively constructed, and, as the wood is very light, they do not sink even if they are filled with water. So small are they, that at a little distance they cannot be seen, and the inmates appear to be treading water.

It is a curious sight to watch a fleet of these canoes come off toward a ship. As soon as an English ship anchors, a swarm of these canoes comes dashing along, their black inmates singing songs at the top of their voices, and shouting “Bateo! Bateo! Gi’ way! Bar-gri!” and similar exclamations, as they race with each other toward the vessel. No European has been known to manage one of these frail canoes, the usual result of getting into one being that the boat turns over, and deposits the rash adventurer in the sea.

The appearance of the men has been graphically described by the “F. R. G. S.” “Conceive the head of a Socrates, or a Silenus, upon the body of the Antinous, or Apollo Belvedere. A more magnificent development of muscle, such perfect symmetry in the balance of grace and strength, my eyes had never yet looked upon. But the faces! Except when lighted up by smiles and good humor—expression to an African face is all in all—nothing could be more unprepossessing. The flat nose, the high cheek-bones, the yellow eyes, the chalky white teeth, pointed like the shark’s, the muzzle protruded like that of a dog-monkey, combine to form an unusual amount of ugliness.

“To this adds somewhat the tribe mark, a blue line of cuts half an inch broad, from the forehead scalp to the nose tip—in some cases it extends over both lips to the chin, whence they are called Bluenoses—whilst a broad arrow or wedge, pointed to the face, and also blue, occupies each temple, just above the zygomata. The marks are made with a knife, little cuts into which the oily husk of a gum is rubbed. Their bodies are similarly ornamented with stars, European emblems, as anchors, &c., especially with broad double lines down the breast and other parts.

“Their features are distinctly African, without a mixture of Arab; the conjunctiva is brown, yellow, or tarnished—a Hamitic peculiarity—and some paint white goggle-like ovals round the orbits, producing the effect of a loup. This is sometimes done for sickness, and individuals are rubbed over with various light and dark colored powders. The skin is very dark, often lamp-black; others are of a deep rich brown, or bronze tint, but a light-complexioned man is generally called Tom Coffee.

“They wear the hair, which is short and kinky, in crops, which look like a Buddha’s skull-cap, and they shave when in mourning for their relations. A favorite ‘fash’ (i. e. fashion) is to scrape off a parallelogram behind the head, from the poll to the cerebellum; and others are decorated in that landscape or parterre style which wilder Africans love. The back of the cranium is often remarkably flat, and I have seen many heads of the pyramidal shape, rising narrow and pointed high to the apex. The beard is seldom thick, and never long; the moustachio is removed, and the pile, like the hair, often grows in tufts. The tattoo has often been described. There seems to be something attractive in this process—the English sailor can seldom resist the temptation.

“They also chip, sharpen, and extract the teeth. Most men cut out an inverted V between the two middle incisors of the upper jaw; others draw one or two of the central lower incisors; others, especially the St. Andrews men, tip or sharpen the incisors, like the Wahiao and several Central African tribes.

“Odontology has its mysteries. Dentists seem, or rather seemed, to hold as a theory that destruction of the enamel involved the loss of the tooth; the Krumen hack their masticators with a knife, or a rough piece of hoop iron, and find that the sharpening, instead of producing caries, acts as a preservative, by facilitating the laniatory process. Similarly there are physiologists who attribute the preservation of the negro’s teeth to his not drinking anything hotter than blood heat. This is mere empiricism. The Arabs swallow their coffee nearly boiling, and the East African will devour his agali, or porridge, when the temperature would scald the hand. Yet both these races have pearls of teeth, except when they chew lime or tobacco.”

The native dress of the men is simple enough, consisting of a pink and white or blue and white check cloth round the waist, and a variety of ornaments, made of skin, metal, glass, or ivory. The latter substance is mostly obtained either from the Gaboon or Cameroon, and is worn in the shape of large arm rings, cut slowly with a knife, and polished by drawing a wet cord backward and forward. Some of the sailor Krumen have their names (i. e. their nautical names) engraved on their armlets, and some of them wear on the breast a brass plate with the name engraved upon it. Of course some of their ornaments are charms or fetishes.

The women present a disagreeable contrast to the men, their stature being short, their proportions ungainly, and their features repulsive. Their style of dress, which is merely a much-attenuated petticoat, displays nearly the whole of the figure, and enables the spectator to form a very accurate opinion of their personal appearance. Of course, the chief part of the work is done by the women, and this custom has doubtless some effect in stunting and deteriorating the form.

All the Krumen have two names, one being that by which they are called in their own tongue, and one by which they are known to their employers. It really seems a pity that these fine fellows should be degraded by the ludicrous English names which are given to them. Their own names—e. g. Kofá, Nákú, Tiyá, &c.—are easy enough to speak, and it would be far better to use them, and not to “call them out of their names,” according to the domestic phrase. Here are the names of five men who engaged to take Mr. Reade to the Gaboon: Smoke Jack, Dry Toast, Cockroach, Pot-of-Beer, and—of all the names in the world for a naked black man—Florence Nightingale.

They always demand rice, that being a necessity with them, and as long as they get their pint and a half per diem of rice they can stand unlimited work. They cook the rice for themselves in their primitive but effective manner, and feed themselves much as turkeys are crammed, seizing large handfuls of rice, squeezing them into balls, and contriving, in some mysterious way, to swallow them whole without being choked. When they enter the naval service they consider themselves as made men, getting not only their rice, but allowance in lieu of other rations plenty of clothing, and high wages, so that when they go ashore they are rich men, and take their rank. Of course they are fleeced by all their relations, who flock round them, and expect to be feasted for several days, but still the sailor Kruman can buy a wife or two, and set up for a “man” at once. In his own phrase, he is “nigger for ship, king for country.” One year is the usual term of engagement, and it is hardly possible to induce Krumen to engage for more than three years, so attached are they to “me country.”

Their government is simple. They are divided into four classes, or castes,—namely, the elders, the actual warriors, the probationary warriors, and the priests; the latter term including the priests proper, the exorcists, and the physicians. They are strictly republican, and no one is permitted to accumulate, or, at all events, to display, wealth much above the average of his fellows. Should even one of the elders do so, a palaver is held, and his property is reduced to proper level. This is described by the English-speaking Krumen as the punishment for “too much sass.” In fact, property is held on the joint stock principle, so that the word “commonwealth” is very applicable to their mode of government.

Capital punishment is rare, and is seldom used, except in cases of witchcraft or murder, and it is remarkable that, in the latter case, no distinction is made between accidental manslaughter and murder with “malice prepense.” The poison ordeal is common here, the draught being prepared from the “sass-wood” of the gidden tree; and there is a wholesome rule that, if the accused survives the ordeal, the accuser must drink it in his turn.

That they are arrant liars, that they are confirmed thieves, and that they have not the slightest notion of morality, is but to say that they are savages, and those who have to deal with them can manage well enough, provided that they only bear in mind these characteristics. If they hear that they are going to some place which they dislike—probably on account of some private feud, because they are afraid of some man whose domestic relations they have disturbed—they will come with doleful faces to their master, and tell him the most astounding lies about it.

Yet they are a cheerful, lively set of fellows, possessing to the full the negro’s love of singing, drumming, and dancing. Any kind of work that they do is aided by a song, and an experienced traveller who is paddled by Krumen always takes with him a drum of some sort, knowing that it will make the difference of a quarter of the time occupied in the journey. Even after a hard day’s work, they will come to their master, ask permission to “make play,” and will keep up their singing and dancing until after midnight. Under such circumstances the traveller will do well to grant his permission, under the condition that they remove themselves out of earshot. Even their ordinary talk is so much like shouting, that they must always be quartered in outhouses, and when they become excited with their music their noise is unendurable.

They are very fond of intoxicating liquids, and are not in the least particular about the quality, so that the intoxicating property be there.

It has already been mentioned that they are arrant thieves, and in nothing is their thieving talent more conspicuous than when they exercise it upon spirituous liquors. They even surpass the British sailor in the ingenuity which they display in discovering and stealing spirits, and there is hardly any risk which they will not run in order to obtain it. Contrary to the habit of most savage people, they are very sensitive to pain, and a flogging which would scarcely be felt by a Bush boy will elicit shrieks of pain from a Kruman. They dread the whip almost as much as death, and yet they will brave the terrors of a certain flogging in order to get at rum or brandy.

No precautions seem to be available against their restless cunning, and the unwary traveller is often surprised, when he feels ill and wants some brandy as a medicine, that not a drop is to be found, and yet, to all appearance, his spirit-case has been under his own eyes, and so have the rascals who have contrived to steal it. Even so experienced a traveller as Captain Burton, a man who knows the negro character better than almost any European, says that he never had the chance of drinking his last bottle of cognac, it always having been emptied by his Krumen.

Provisions of all kinds vanish in the same mysterious way: they will strangle goats, and prepare them so as to look as if they had been bitten by venomous serpents; and as for fowls, they vanish as if they had voluntarily flown down the throats of the robbers. Anything bright or polished is sure to be stolen, and it is the hardest thing in the world to take mathematical instruments safely through Western Africa, on account of the thievish propensities of the Krumen.

Even when they steal articles which they cannot eat, it is very difficult to discover the spot where the missing object is hidden, and, as a party of Krumen always share their plunder, they have an interest in keeping their business secret. The only mode of extracting information is by a sound flogging, and even then it often happens that the cunning rascals have sent off their plunder by one of their own people, or have contrived to smuggle it on board some ship.

We now come to the domestic habits of the Krumen as summed up in marriage, religion, death, and burial.

These people are, as has been seen, a prudent race, and have the un-African faculty of looking to the future. It is this faculty which causes them to work so hard for their wives, the fact being, that, when a man has no wife, he must work entirely for himself; when he has one, she takes part of the labor off his hands; and when he marries a dozen or so, they can support him in idleness for the rest of his days.

So, when a young man has scraped together sufficient property to buy a wife, he goes to the girl’s father, shows the goods, and strikes the bargain. If accepted, he marries her after a very simple fashion, the whole ceremony consisting in the father receiving the goods and handing over the girl. He remains with her in her father’s house for a week or two, and then goes off on another trip in order to earn enough money to buy a second. In like manner he possesses a third and a fourth, and then sets up a domicile of his own, each wife having her own little hut.

However many wives a Kruman may have, the first takes the chief rank, and rules the entire household. As is the case in most lands where polygamy is practised, the women have no objection to sharing the husband’s affections. On the contrary, the head wife will generally urge her husband to add to his number, because every additional wife is in fact an additional servant, and takes a considerable amount of work off her shoulders. And an inferior wife would always prefer to be the twelfth or thirteenth wife of a wealthy man, than the solitary wife of a poor man for whom she will have to work like a slave.

Although the women are completely subject to their husbands, they have a remedy in their hands if they are very badly treated. They run away to their own family, and then there is a great palaver. Should a separation occur, the children, although they love their mother better than their father, are considered his property, and have to go with him.

Their religion is of a very primitive character, and, although the Krumen have for so many years been brought in contact with civilization, and have been sedulously taught by missionaries, they have not exchanged their old superstitions for a new religion. That they believe in the efficacy of amulets and charms has been already mentioned, and therefore it is evident that they must have some belief in the supernatural beings who are supposed to be influenced by these charms. Yet, as to worship, very little is known of it, probably because very little is practised. On one occasion, when a vessel was wrecked, a Kruman stood all night by the sea-side, with his face looking westward, waving the right arm, and keeping up an incessant howling until daybreak. The others looked at him, but did not attempt to join him.

There is one religious ceremony which takes place in a remarkable cavern, called by the euphonious name of Grand Devil Cave. It is a hollow in an enormous rock, having at the end a smaller and interior cavern in which the demon resides. Evidently partaking that dislike to naming the object of their superstitions which caused the believing in fairies to term them the “Good people,” and the Norwegians of the present day to speak of the bear as the “Disturber,” or “He in the fur coat,” the Krumen prudently designate this demon as “Suffin,” i. e. Something.

When they go to worship they lay beads, tobacco, provisions, and rum in the inner cavern, which are at once removed by the mysterious Suffin, who is supposed to consume them all. In return for the liberality of his votaries, Suffin answers any questions in any language. The Krumen believe as firmly in the existence and supernatural character of Suffin as the Babylonians in the time of Daniel believed that Bell consumed daily the “twelve great measures of fine flour, the forty sheep, and the six vessels of wine” that were offered to him. And, as a convincing proof of the danger of incredulity, they point with awe to a tree which stands near the mouth of the Grand Devil Cave, and which was formerly a Kruman who expressed his disbelief in Suffin, and was straightway transformed into the tree in question.

Their mode of swearing is by dipping the finger in salt, pointing to heaven and earth with it, as if invoking the powers of both, and then putting the tip of the finger in the mouth, as if calling upon the offended powers to avenge the perjury on the person of him who had partaken of the salt. Considering the wolfish voracity of the Krumen, which they possess in common with other savages, they show great self-control in yielding to a popular superstition which forbids them to eat the hearts of cattle, or to drink the blood.

The dead Kruman is buried with many ceremonies, and, notably, a fire is kept up before his house, so that his spirit may warm itself while it is prepared for appreciating the new life into which it has been born. Food is also placed near the grave for the same benevolent purpose. Should he be a good man, he may lead the cattle which have been sacrificed at his funeral, and so make his way to the spirit land, in which he will take rank according to the number of cattle which he has brought with him. Sometimes he may enter the bodies of children, and so reappear on earth. But should he be a bad man, and especially should he be a wizard—i. e. one who practises without authority the arts which raise the regular practitioners to wealth and honor—his state after death is very terrible, and he is obliged to wander forever through gloomy swamps and fetid marshes.

It is a curious fact that the Krumen have some idea of a transitional or purgatorial state. The paradise of the Krumen is called Kwiga Oran, i. e. the City of the Ghosts, and before any one can enter it he must sojourn for a certain time in the intermediate space called Menu or Menuke.

It may be as well to remark here that the Grain Coast, on which the Krumen chiefly live, does not derive its name from corn, barley, or other cereals. The grain in question is the well-known cardamom, or Grain of Paradise, which is used as a medicine throughout the whole of Western Africa, and is employed as a remedy against various diseases. It is highly valued as a restorative after fatigue: and when a man has been completely worn out by a long day’s march, there is nothing that refreshes him more than a handful of the cardamoms in a fresh state, the juicy and partly acid pulp contrasting most agreeably with the aromatic warmth of the seeds. The cardamom is used either internally or externally. It is eaten as a stomachic, and is often made into a poultice and applied to any part of the body that suffers pain. Headache, for example, is said to be cured by the cardamom seed, pounded and mixed with water into a paste; and, even during the hot fit of fever, the cardamom powder is applied as a certain restorative.

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