Imprisonment as a punishment is scarcely known, and indeed scarcely possible, though, as has been said, men are sometimes detained in the slave-stick till ransomed or otherwise disposed of. It is a small log with a fork at one end, long enough for the other end to rest on the ground when a man’s neck is inserted into the fork and secured with an iron pin. Slaves are confined in these sticks on the march (as in the familiar picture in Livingstone’s Zambezi Expedition), or when they are likely to run away,—or sometimes as a punishment. Debtors, adulterers, and thieves may be put in the slave-stick till their debts or fines are paid up. Slaves, when thus confined, sometimes have the other end of the stick fastened up to a tree, so that they can do their usual work of pounding corn, or the like. There is also a form of stocks called in Yao ugwalata, consisting of a hole in the verandah-part of a hut, through which a man’s arm or leg is passed, and secured so that he cannot draw it back. Slaves are sometimes severely beaten.
The Makololo chiefs approach more nearly the idea of an irresponsible despot than any others in this part of Africa; but this is owing to a special set of circumstances, and they cannot be taken as typical. It is the more necessary to bear this in mind, because the chapter of horrors which Mr. Macdonald gives under the heading, ‘A Slave Government,’ may seem to contradict some of the statements we have made. These chiefs, then, were placed in a very exceptional position. They were a small minority of warriors in the midst of an unwarlike population whom they regarded with contempt, but who were strong enough to make them think they must secure their position by ruthless severity. Some of them had actually been slaves themselves, though the only Makololo among them, Ramakukane, was of good family. Cruelty is not a Makololo trait, though Sebituane and Sekeletu could act with firmness and even harshness when the occasion seemed to demand it. But some unusually barbarous punishments seem to have been used in the Barotse valley where the Makololo had settled, and to which some of these chiefs belonged by birth. They may have brought some of these customs with them; and their becoming possessed of virtually unlimited power, while at the same time their footing was but a precarious one, did the rest. None of them was subject to the others; they were far enough apart to be quite independent; but they acted together in face of a common enemy. It is a pleasing fiction that their despotism was on the whole of a benevolent character, and voluntarily submitted to by the Mang’anja, who welcomed them as protectors against the Yaos; but this illusion is dispelled by a closer acquaintance with the facts. Even before the departure of the Livingstone expedition, they had begun to tyrannise over the Shiré population; but it was only after that event that their power became fully established. Several of them were undoubtedly men of fine qualities; but a careful examination of their careers before and after (roughly speaking) 1861, leads to the conclusion that some at least must have degenerated sadly.
They took advantage of the famine of 1862-3 to enslave the Mang’anja, and ‘their power increased every day till they could claim all on the Lower Shiré for their subjects.’ They had no council of head-men, and though each village had a head-man, he was not a responsible local ruler, but a mere taskmaster appointed by the chief. Forced labour and oppressive tribute were exacted. No woman had a ‘surety,’ as with the Yaos, but the chief disposed at will of his subjects’ daughters—assigned them to husbands of his own choosing, or took them into his harem, as he felt disposed. Wholesale mwavi-drinkings took place, at which no one was allowed to refuse the cup; and judicial torture was frequent.
The ordinary tribute paid to chiefs varies in different tribes, but is not in general excessive. In some parts, when an elephant is killed, the chief claims ‘the ground tusk’—i.e. the one which touches the ground when it falls; elsewhere this is not insisted on. Presents are usually expected from strangers passing through the country, but they get something in return; and a chief (though in practice he may fall short of the ideal) is always supposed to be generous. Yao local head-men send their chief a percentage of the ivory when they kill elephants, and (if they live near enough) a haunch of any large animal (such as an eland) which they may shoot. It is also the custom for them to invite him to a beer-drinking at least once in the year. Sometimes the chief sends for the village head-men, or orders them to find men, to do some work for him at his village—hoeing, or building huts. This was frequently done by the Angoni chiefs, who also (as has been said before) made periodical levies of their subjects’ sons to herd their cattle, and of their daughters for the harem.
There is no regular priestly class. The professional diviners and medicine-men to a certain extent occupy the same position, and a Yao chief sometimes appoints a ‘sacrificer,’ whose duties are of a somewhat miscellaneous character. Besides taking the omens before a battle, he has to carry the banner and lead the army—the chief himself, like David in later life, not going into action. (He stays behind to ‘supply powder and deal with deserters.’) The ‘sacrificer’ tastes the beer offered to the chief’s guests, to show that it is not poisoned, and beats one of the drums at witch-dances, where he represents the chief, if the latter is unable to be present. Whether he is the same as the chief’s medicine-man is not clear.
But the strictly religious functions of a priest, as we have seen, are performed by the chief on behalf of his tribe, by the head-man for the village, by the father for the family, and (in private matters) by the individual for himself.
We have seen how the chief presides over, or at least takes part in, public prayers for rain; but the Yaos and Anyanja do not at present seem to have anything corresponding to the ‘feast of first-fruits’ among the southern Bantu, where the chief ceremonially ‘tastes’ the first of the new crops before the people are allowed to gather them. There are traces of such a rite among the Yaos, and I am inclined to think that the Angoni keep up something of the kind, or did a few years back, because I was informed at one of the Ntumbi kraals, about the beginning of the harvest season, that the father of the family was away at Chekusi’s, ‘eating maize,’—an expression of which I did not at the time grasp the probable bearing. The Zulus keep the ukutshwama with great solemnity, and the Angoni would have brought the custom with them from the south, though I do not know how they observe it in detail.
The chief is supposed to be the owner of all the land, but in strictness he cannot alienate it without the consent of the tribe. It seems, however, as if, apart from European or Arab influence, the idea of permanent property in land scarcely existed. No one is supposed to own land except so long as he actually cultivates it; and, owing to the method of agriculture, it is abandoned every few years. Any member of the tribe can make a fresh garden where he likes, provided no one else has bespoken the ground; but a stranger would require the chief’s permission to settle. The chief’s land is well defined, and has recognised boundaries, but there seem to be no definite limits to the territory occupied by a tribe.
The Mang’anja used to recognise certain animals as nyama ya lundu, ‘king’s meat,’ not allowed to be eaten by the people in general. Among these were the nkaka, or scaly ant-eater, whereof the Rev. D. C. Scott was on one occasion invited to partake by Ramakukane, and a certain kind of large frog or toad called tesi, said to be very delicate eating.