CHAPTER IV
RELIGION AND MAGIC—II
Creation. Origin of death. Lake Nyasa. Rain-making. Charms. Witchcraft. Lycanthropy. Divination. Food tabus. Dances.
So far as we can get at the notions of the Bantu about creation, they do not seem to have thought that this world ever had a beginning. All the stories one has met with assume it as already existing, and explain how this or that feature—mountains, rivers, lakes, animals, men—was introduced into it. The Yaos tell that Mtanga pinched up the surface of the earth into mountains, Chitowi—who had failed in performing the operation himself—having called him in for the purpose. He then dug channels for rivers, and brought down rain to fill them. The Yaos, being mountaineers, assumed that a plain would be unfit for human habitation: Mtanga, on first viewing their country, remarked, ‘This country is bad because it is without a hill.’ There are also legends of the introduction of the sun, moon, and stars, and of the origin of clouds, wind, and rain; but all these presuppose the existence of people on the earth.
Mankind is held to have originated at Kapirimtiya, a hill—or as some say, an island in a lake, far to the west of Nyasa. Here it is believed that there is a rock covered with marks like the footprints of men and animals, and that, when men were first created, the island was a piece of soft mud, and Mulungu sent them across it, so as to leave their footmarks there, before they were dispersed over the world. One native account says that ‘they came from heaven and fell down below upon the earth’; another, that they came out of a hole in the rock, which was afterwards closed by ‘the people of Mulungu,’ and is now ‘in a desert place towards the north.’
In the Bemba country, the natives speak of two such places; and one of them was seen in 1902 by a European, who describes it in a letter to Life and Work as ‘a conglomerate rock showing what the natives call footprints of a man, a child, a zebra or horse, and a dog.’ The Bemba people say that these footprints were made by Mulungu (or, as they call him, Luchereng’anga) ‘and the people and animals he brought to occupy the country.’ Offerings of beads, calico, and beer are placed on this rock. The writer thought the marks certainly looked like footprints, but were merely hollows where the rain had washed out the softer parts of the rock. The old head-man of the place, naturally enough, would not hear of this explanation, and maintained that the marks had once been much plainer, but were now partly washed away by the rains.
This account agrees well enough with the vague indications given by the Blantyre people as to the direction of Kapirimtiya. It seems to show that the Yaos and Bemba had some common centre, though the latter also say (which is confirmed by other testimony) that they came from the west in comparatively recent times.
The story of the Chameleon is found among so many of the Bantu as to suggest that they derived it from a common source. Whether it came from the Hottentot legend of the Moon and the Hare—or from the story out of which that was developed, I do not feel competent to discuss. The Yaos, the Anyanja, and the Atonga all possess it in slightly differing versions. I shall give the last-named.
‘Chiuta deputed the Chameleon and the Lizard (or Frog, as it is variously given) to take to men the message, the one of life and the other of death. The Chameleon was to tell men that they would die, but that they would return again, while the Lizard was bid tell them that when they died, they would die for good. The Chameleon had the start, but in its slow, hesitating pace was soon outrun by the swift Lizard, which darted in among men with its tale that dying they should end their existence. A good while after, the Chameleon came lazily along and announced that, though men should die, they would return to life again; but he was met by the angry and sorrowful reply that they had already heard that they must die without returning, and that they had accepted the message first delivered.’
This is exactly like the Zulu story, where the people say, ‘Oh! we have taken hold of the word of the Lizard, when it said, “People shall die.” We never heard that word of yours, Chameleon—people will die!’ Consequently, Zulus, Yaos, Anyanja, Atonga, and, I suppose, most Bantu, detest the poor Chameleon, and consider him an unlucky beast. The Anyanja never pass one without putting snuff into its mouth, ‘that it may die,’ and any one who knows what a value they set on this commodity, and what minute quantities they seem, as a rule, to carry about with them, will allow that this is, indeed, carrying enmity very far. However, the Lake Anyanja seem to take a different view of the matter from the Blantyre people. They hold that their ancestors were grateful for the Chameleon’s message, though it came too late—perhaps they reflected that it was not his fault: he was not built for fast travelling;—and they give him tobacco as a reward; so that chameleons who die by nicotine poisoning are the victims of ill-judged kindness, not of revenge. It is worth noticing that the creature’s name in the Lake dialect—gulumpambe or gwilampambe—seems to mean ‘seize the lightning’ (or ‘Mpambe’). Possibly there is some still recoverable tradition at the back of this.
The Yaos have another very curious tale, in which the Chameleon is directly concerned in the introduction of Man into the world. At first Man was not—only Mulungu and the beasts. Apparently the Chameleon has been forced by changed circumstances to alter his mode of living, for, in those days he used to set traps for fish in the river—wicker arrangements on the principle of the lobster-pot—as natives do now. One morning, on visiting his trap, he found two unknown beings in it—no other than the first man and woman, who had somehow blundered into it during the night. (I have seen a mono big enough to contain one person, with his knees drawn up, but the size of the First Parents is not stated.) He consulted Mulungu as to what he should do with them, and was told, ‘Place them here, they will grow.’ They did grow, and developed various activities—among others that of making fire by twirling a hard stick on a bit of soft wood (kupeka moto), as is done to this day. But in the end they set the grass alight, and thus drove Mulungu from his abode on this earth. The Chameleon escaped by climbing a tree; but ‘Mulungu was on the ground, and he said, “I cannot climb a tree.” Then Mulungu set off and went to call the Spider. The Spider went on high and returned again and said, “I have gone on high nicely,” and he said, “You now, Mulungu, go on high.” Mulungu then went with the spider on high. And he said, “When they die, let them come on high here.” And behold, men on dying go on high in order to be slaves of God, the reason being that they ate his people here below.’