Poor and ignorant as these savages were, their fears seemed intensified by the gloom of the forest recesses, and they appeared to be ever striving to propitiate by their offerings some higher order of being, who might hold sway there.
Many of the tribes were found to have a strong belief in the power of charms for good or evil. This belief seemed productive of honest and gentle dealing among the natives; while the fear that even the weak and helpless might work injury to those stronger than themselves, through their knowledge of the nature of these charms, often held in check those who might otherwise have been despotic in their dealings.
At one of the villages a man showed the grave of his child, and with much display of feeling told how she had been burned to death in her hut. He had come to the place with all his family, and had built huts around it, in order to weep for her. His fear was that if her grave should be left unguarded, witches might come and bewitch the remaining relatives by placing medicines on the grave.
The people of the Barotse tribe have a very decided belief in the continued existence of the spirits of the departed. Livingstone mentions that one of his men suffering from a headache said sadly and thoughtfully, "My father is scolding me because I do not give him any of the food I eat." Upon being asked where his father was, he answered, "Among the Barimo."
Along the banks of the Quilo the country, when visited by Livingstone, was occupied by natives who had once been sold as slaves and afterwards freed. Though far from their old homes, they seemed contented and happy.
This section of country was full of villages. Food was abundant, and little labor was necessary to cultivate the soil. The ground was so rich that it was not necessary to fertilize it. Whenever a garden became too poor to produce good crops of maize and millet, the owner of it immediately broke ground a little farther into the forest, applying fire to the roots of the larger trees to kill them, and cutting down the smaller ones. This done, his new rich garden was ready for planting.
Such a garden usually presented the appearance of a large number of tall dead trees stripped of their bark, with maize growing between them. The deserted gardens often continued to produce manioc for many years after their owners had sought new spots for their crops of maize and millet.
The character and temperament of the owners of the various gardens in the villages could be easily detected. Sometimes whole villages were the picture of neatness. Others seemed enveloped in a perfect wilderness of weeds growing to such a height that even when sitting on the back of an ox in the midst of a village one could see only the tops of the huts. If a stranger should enter one of these villages at midday the owners would come forth in an indolent fashion, sometimes pipe in hand, or leisurely puffing away in dreamy indifference.
In some of the villages weeds were not allowed to grow, and cotton, tobacco, and various plants used as food were planted around the huts. Fowls were kept in cages, and the gardens were pleasant pictures of grain and pulse in different stages of growth.
Every village swarmed with children, who turned out in crowds, and ran along with strange cries and antics, to see the white man pass.