When the day of rubber came round week after week, we took in to the white man our little baskets of rubber balls, and received in exchange salt or beads; or if, as sometimes happened, he had none of these articles left, he would give us a book to keep, and pay us in kind when his boxes arrived. So far we had not had any trouble between us and the white man; he and we were satisfied with the barter we carried on.
But changes came—another white man came to help Leopard in his work, and he was different from other white men, he was not good, so we gave him a bad name which meant “Pillage” or “Brigandage,” though I do not suppose he ever knew what it meant.
Naturally a change took place in the way we were treated, and gradually things got worse and worse.
Now it is well known that no man goes on for ever at one thing without getting tired, and wanting a rest. And when I had been going to and fro to the forest getting rubber for a long time, I began to wish to sit down in [[57]]town for a little while, especially as by this time Bamatafe had given birth to a little son, of whom I was very proud, as he was our firstborn.
So one week I stayed at home when the young men went to the forest, and when the day of rubber fell I had no rubber, and did not go to the white man’s place.
As usual, our names were called out of a book, and when mine was reached some one answered, “He has not come.” Then the white man was angry, and said that if Bokwala did not come to the next market he would have a big palaver. My friends came home and told me his words, and the next time I went with them and was told that I must never miss coming—the rubber must be brought in regularly without fail, or there would be “chicotte,” or perhaps even prison for those who missed coming.
After that I went regularly for a long time, but on one occasion there was a great palaver to be talked in our village, and it was necessary for me to be present at it. At this time we had to collect a certain weight of rubber and present it at the white man’s place every fifteenth day. It took almost all our time to go to and from [[58]]the forest and collect the rubber, for it was becoming very scarce.
So when the day came for carrying my basket to the white man I had not the prescribed quantity. I knew that when my turn came to have my rubber weighed the white man would be angry and scold me, but said I, “Lotango nta wak’ontu” (“Reproach does not kill a man”), and I did not expect anything worse.
But the order was given, “Etama” (“Lie down”).
I could scarcely believe my ears—I, the son of a chief, to be whipped publicly!