As the darkness came on, our camp was enlivened by the appearance of the grotesque figure of a singer, who came with a huge bunch of feathers in his hat, and these, as he wagged his head to the time of his music, became all entangled with the braids of his hair. Altogether the head was like the head of Medusa. These “minne-singers” among the Niam-niam are known as “nzangah.” They are as sparing of their voices as a worn-out prima donna; except for those close by, it is impossible to hear what they are singing. Their instrument is the local guitar, the thin jingling of which accords perfectly well with the nasal humming of the minstrel’s recitative. The occupation of these nzangah, however, notwithstanding the general love of the people for music, would not appear to be held in very high esteem, as the same designation is applied to those unfortunate women, friendless and fallen, who are never absent from any community. Quite contrary to the practice of the neighbouring tribes, they have nothing to do with boisterous music, and only use their drums and horns for the purpose of signals. The minstrelsy of the Niam-niam may be said to have the character of a lover’s whisper.
Starting again and proceeding to the south, after an agreeable walk of about three hours, we arrived at the quarters of Bendo, a brother of Nganye, who had set him in charge of one of his best and most populous districts. The homesteads were all scattered over a wide and well-cultivated area, which extended with a northerly aspect along the declivity of an elevation of gneiss that rose to an altitude of about 200 feet. This hill was named Gumango; before we reached it we had to cross a considerable stream called the Rye, which throughout the year is always flowing. Uninfluenced hitherto by the rain, its breadth was now about forty feet, and its depth was sufficient to allow us to enjoy a pleasant bath at a spot where it ran beneath the shelter of some thick Psychotriæ. Tall popukky grass covered the banks, amidst which the splendid Nathalia, with its blossoms fine as those of a horse-chestnut, rose in all its beauty. The whole region, on either side the stream, was well cultivated, and look whichever way we would, we saw groups of farmsteads, although villages, in our sense of the term, did not exist.
Each family resides close to, if not actually upon, the land it cultivates. The insecurity of property is everywhere so great, that rather than relinquish their incessant watch over their crops, the people submit to many inconveniences and live far away from watercourses, put up with short supply of firewood, and brave the ravages of the white ants. Hostility, in this land, does not simply mean plunder and escape; the enemy is vengeful, and if he can carry nothing off, will damage all he finds, and destroy the rising crops.
The Rye empties itself into the river Sway, as the Dyoor is termed by the Niam-niam, although by the Bongo and Dyoor it is called the Geddy. Close to the rising eminence of Gumango, the Rye upon its left shore receives a considerable stream flowing from the marshy plains, along the banks of which are scattered numerous farmsteads surrounded by plantains. This was the first time I had seen the Musa sapientium in any quantities; just beyond the Nile district in the Monbuttoo country it becomes the very staple of the people’s food. The cultivation of the plantain seems to be a speciality of all the equatorial regions of Africa, from Uganda on Lake Ukerewe right away to the western lands on the Gaboon and Ogowai.
GROVE OF ZAWA-TREES.
Our encampment had been made to the north-east of Gumango in a great grove of Zawa trees (Lophira alata). Of this tree very few detached specimens are met with. It belongs to a class which flourishes beyond the range of the woods of the river banks, and will grow on a tolerably dry soil. Very noble is it in its growth, and so fine, that Colonel Grant has pronounced it to be the fairest memorial of his famous tour. Its bark is jet black, and it has a cylindrical crown of narrow quivering leaves, which vary in length from a foot to a foot and a half, whilst their breadth is rarely a couple of inches. Whilst it is young the colour of the foliage is purple, which subsequently changes to a deep sap-green. Every leaf is of a leathery texture, deeply wrinkled, and its surface smooth as if it were varnished. The blossoms repose in thick masses upon the extremities of the boughs; in colour they resemble those of the tea-tree, and emit a fragrant odour sweet as roses. It is one of the most serviceable productions of the country, as its fruit, which is about as large as a hazel-nut, yields a prolific supply of oil, of which the quality is singularly pure, while it is neither rank in smell nor coarse in taste. For my own part I much prefer the oil that is thus obtained to either that of the oil-palm, or of the butter-tree.
All the morning I pursued my botanising on the river Rye, and all the afternoon upon the sides and summits of Gumango. The arched surface of the rising mound of gneiss, stretching out without a rift, was the habitat of several very interesting ferns. Here I found the first specimen of Encephalartus which had ever been discovered in the northern latitudes of Africa. The joy of this surprise was no transient thing; but as often as the eye of the collector glances over the treasures he has brought from afar, it surveys a permanent memorial of his successful tour. The Ensete or wild Musa of Africa, which the Niam-niam call the “Boggumboly” (or little plantain) grows likewise in great abundance upon this interesting hill.
As surveyed from the summit of Gumango, the country, with the variegated colours of its cultivated enclosures, exhibited a thoroughly European aspect. Ploughed fields are nowhere to be seen, but the labour is limited to clearing out the weeds, and loosening the surface of the mould to receive the fine-grained eleusine, which no doubt requires more care than sorghum, which latter is sown broadcast.
All the farmsteads at this time had been deserted by their occupants, who had gone away and abandoned their well-stored granaries. Compared to the number of residences the store of provisions was very great, especially when the advanced season of the year is taken into account, for April was the month in which the new seeds should be planted out. One with another the huts had three granaries each, two of which were full of eleusine in its original condition, the remaining one being devoted to the same grain after it had been malted.
Everything testified to the fruitfulness of the soil. Sweet-potatoes, yams, and colocasiæ were piled up in heaps, and our hungry Bongo and Mittoo fell upon them as though they had entered a hostile country. The receptacles for corn, being circular erections of clay, supported on posts, and furnished with a covering which lifted up and down like a lid, were soon emptied, and the immediate neighbourhood of our quarters was like a scene of rapine and plunder.