It was but a few days after this episode that a great chief called a judge came from down-country to make inquiries about our part, and hear palavers.
This was the first time a white man had come on such an errand, and numbers of our people gathered at the house of the white man of God and told our troubles to the chief. He listened and questioned us, and made inquiries of other people who had seen the things we brought forward, and another white man wrote many, many words in a book. That book, they said, would go down-country [[104]]to another great chief, and then everything would be settled satisfactorily.
As Kebocu had not been punished or even arrested for causing the death of Isekasofa, that affair was also talked about, and Bomoya was carried in from his home that the white man might see for himself the truth of our statements. His wound was in a terrible condition, and was turning green inside. All this was also written in the book.
The book was sent down-country; the white men both went their way; and we never heard any more. Kebocu was never punished, but lived in his own village a free man. Bomoya recovered, because the white men of God made medicine for his wounds, but he was always lame.
It made us very angry when, some time after his partial recovery, he was imprisoned for some weeks—because he was found in his village, and not out in the forest hunting antelopes for the white man’s soup! Just as if a lame man would be of any use in a hunt with nets and spears!
We continued our hunting week after week, not only to supply the white man’s table, but also to provide rations (either of meat [[105]]or fish) for his sentries and workmen, and our women had to provide manioca for the same reason.
It meant much work for us all; not only work, but constant exposure to the cold and damp of the forest. It was worse in the wet season, when many of our people contracted a sickness of the chest which is most painful and often ends in death. In fact, the providing of food was getting to be almost as great a tax upon us as the rubber had been. And we thought, “If the rubber work never ends, the food work will not; they will never give up calling for food!”
We had no comfort at home, for we were rarely there. We had nothing to look forward to in the future but work—either rubber or food—so we gave up hoping; our hearts were broken; we were as people half dead!
Two or three times white people came again to ask about our affairs. One was a very tall Englishman with a wonderful dog such as we had never seen before. He was very kind to us, made many inquiries about our treatment, and gave us presents before he left. We asked him to come back to us again, but he never did. We were told that he was talking about our troubles [[106]]and writing them in a book in England, but that is all we know about him.
Another who came was a white woman. She stayed for a little while at the rubber place, and used to ask us many questions and talked much to us and to the white men. But we could never really understand about her; why should a woman come to see about palavers—how could she settle them? She soon went away, and we did not think any more about her.