Niam-niam Granary.
The architecture of the eastern Niam-niam corresponds very nearly with what may be seen in many other parts of Central Africa. The conical roofs are higher and more pointed than those of the Bongo and Dinka, having a projection beyond the clay walls of the hut, which affords a good shelter from the rain. This projection is supported by posts, which give the whole building the semblance of being surrounded by a verandah. The huts that are used for cooking have roofs still more pointed than those which serve for sleeping. Other little huts, with bell-shaped roofs, erected in a goblet-shape upon a substructure of clay, and furnished with only one small aperture, are called “bamogee,” and are set apart, as being secure from the attacks of wild beasts, for sleeping-places of the boys, as soon as they are of an age to be separated from the adults.
REVENUE OF THE CHIEFTAINS.
Every sovereign prince bears the title of “Bya,” which is pronounced very much like the French word bien. His power is limited to the calling together of the men who are capable of bearing arms, to the execution in person of those condemned to death, and to determining whether there shall be peace or war. Except the ivory and the moiety of elephant’s flesh, he enjoys no other revenue; for his means of subsistence he depends upon his farms, which are worked either by his slaves or more generally by his numerous wives. Towards the west, where a flourishing slave-trade is driven to the cost of the oppressed inhabitants who are not true Zandey, a portion of the tribute is raised by a conscription of young girls and boys, a part of the purchase-money paid by the Darfoor traders to the chief being handed over to the parents who are thus robbed of their children.
Bamogee: or hut for the boys.
Although a Niam-niam chieftain disdains external pomp and repudiates any ostentatious display, his authority in one respect is quite supreme. Without his orders no one would for a moment entertain a thought either of opening war or concluding peace. The defiant imperious bearing of the chiefs alone constitutes their outward dignity, and there are some who in majestic deportment and gesture might vie with any potentate of the earth. The dread with which they inspire their subjects is incredible: it is said that for the purpose of exhibiting their power over life and death they will occasionally feign fits of passion, and that, singling out a victim from the crowd, they will throw a rope about his neck, and with their own hands cut his throat with one stroke of their jagged scimitar. This species of African “Cæsarism” vividly recalls the last days of Theodore, King of Abyssinia.
The eldest son of a chief is considered to be the heir to his title and dignity, all the other sons being entrusted with the command of the fighting forces in separate districts, and generally being assigned a certain share of the hunting booty. At the death of a chief, however, the firstborn is frequently not acknowledged by all his brothers; some of them perchance will support him, whilst others will insist upon their right to become independent rulers in the districts where they have been acting as “behnky.” Contentions of this character are continually giving rise to every kind of aggression and repeated deeds of violence.[6]
Notwithstanding the general warlike spirit displayed by the Niam-niam, it is a very singular fact that the chieftains very rarely lead their own people into actual engagement, but are accustomed, in anxious suspense, to linger about the environs of the “mbanga,” ready, in the event of tidings of defeat, to decamp with their wives and treasures into the most inaccessible swamps, or to betake themselves for concealment to the long grass of the steppes. In the heat of combat each discharge of lances is accompanied by the loudest and wildest of battle-cries, every man as he hurls his weapon shouting aloud the name of his chief. In the intervals between successive attacks the combatants retire to a safe distance, and mounting any eminence that may present itself, or climbing to the summit of the hills of the white ants, which sometimes rise to a height of 12 or 15 feet, they proceed to assail their adversaries, for the hour together, in the most ludicrous manner, with every invective and every epithet of contempt and defiance they can command. During the few days that we were obliged to defend ourselves by an abattis against the attacks of the natives in Wando’s southern territory, we had ample opportunity of hearing these accumulated opprobriums. We could hear them vow that the “Turks” should perish, and declare that not one of them should quit the country alive; and then we recognised the repeated shout, “To the caldron with the Turks!” rising to the eager climax, “Meat! meat!” It was emphatically announced that there was no intention to do any injury to the white man, because he was a stranger and a new-comer to the land; but I need hardly say that, under the circumstances, I felt little inclination to throw myself upon their mercy.