Stirring scenes in savage lands

by James Greenwood

Having discovered that a corpse which had been put into the ground some weeks before had not received enough water at its burial, and knowing the aversion of the Bechuanas to the dead body, he ordered the corpse to be taken up, washed, and re-interred. Contrary to his expectation, and horrible as the ceremony must have been, it was performed. Still the heavens remained inexorable.

Having exhausted his skill and ingenuity, the impostor began to be sorely puzzled to find something on which to lay the blame. Like all of his profession, he was a subtle fellow, in the habit of studying human nature, affable, acute, and exhibiting a dignity of mien, with an ample share of self-complacency which he could not hide. Hitherto he had studiously avoided giving the least offence to the missionaries, whom he found were men of peace who would not quarrel. He frequently condescended to visit them, and in the course of conversation would often give a feeble assent to their opinions as to the sources of that element over which he pretended to have sovereign control. However, finding all his wiles unavailing to produce the desired result, and, notwithstanding the many proofs of kindness he had received from the missionaries, he began to hint that the reverend gentlemen were the cause of the obstinacy of the clouds. One day it was discovered that the rain had been prevented by Mr. Moffat bringing a bag of salt with him from a journey that he had undertaken to Griqua town. But finding on examination that the reported salt was only white clay or chalk, the natives could not help laughing at their own credulity.

From insinuations he proceeded to open accusations. After having kept himself secluded for a fortnight, he one day appeared in the public fold and proclaimed that he had at last discovered the cause of the drought. After keeping the audience in suspense for a short time, he suddenly broke forth: “Do you not see,” he asked, “when the clouds cover us, that Hamilton and Moffat look at them? Their white faces scare them away, and you cannot expect rain so long as they are in the country.” This was a home stroke. The people became impatient, and poured forth their curses against the poor missionaries as the cause of all their sorrows. The bell which was rung for public worship, they said, frightened the vapours; the prayers even came in for a share of the blame. “Don’t you,” said the chief one day rather fiercely to Mr. Moffat, “bow down in your houses and pray, and talk to something bad in the ground?”

But to shorten a long story, after exposing the missionaries to much risk and danger by his insinuations and accusations, the tables were turned in their favour. The rain-maker now was suspected, his gross impositions were unveiled, and he was about to pay the penalty of death,—the well-merited reward for his scandalous conduct, when Mr. Moffat generously interfered, and through his presence of mind and humanity succeeded in saving the life of one who had so often threatened his own, and who would not have scrupled to take it could he thereby have served his purpose. Death, however, soon overtook him, for he was eventually murdered amongst the Bauangketsi nation.

There is scarcely a savage country on the face of the earth but has its professional rain-makers; Figi has; and these, like other players of a game of chance, occasionally win in a manner that seems surprising even to an educated European.

During Mr. Seeman’s stay in Figi, one of the days was rainy, preventing him from making an excursion. On expressing his regret to that effect, a man was brought who may be called the clerk of the weather. He professed to exercise a direct meteorological influence, and said that, by burning certain leaves and offering prayers only known to himself, he could make the sun shine or rain come down; and that he was willing to exercise his influence on Mr. Seeman’s behalf if paid handsomely. He was told that there was no objection to giving him a butcher’s knife if he could make fine weather until the travellers returned to the coast; but if he failed to do so, he must give something for the disappointment. He was perfectly willing to risk the chance of getting the knife, but would not hear of a forfeit in case of failure; however, he left to catch eels. “When returning,” says Mr. Seeman, “the clouds had dispersed, and the sun was shining brilliantly, and he did not fail to inform me that he had ‘been and done it.’ I must farther do him the justice to say, that I did not experience any bad weather until I fairly reached the coast; and that no sooner had I set my foot in Navua than rain came down in regular torrents. This man has probably been a close observer of the weather, and discovered those delicate local indications of a coming change with which people in all countries living much in the open air are familiar; and he very likely does not commence operations until he is pretty sure of success.”

This was not the only singular ceremony witnessed by the gentleman just quoted, and who is the most recent of Figian travellers. While out one day he and his friends met a company of natives, and were struck with the fact that all the young lads were in a state of absolute nudity; and, on inquiry, learned that preparations were being made to celebrate the introduction of Kurudwadua’s eldest son into manhood; and that until then neither the young chieftain nor his playmates could assume the scanty clothing peculiar to the Figians. Suvana, a rebellious town, consisting of about five hundred people, was destined to be sacrificed on the occasion. When the preparations for the feast were concluded, the day for the ceremony appointed, Kurudwadua and his warriors were to make a rush upon the town and club the inhabitants indiscriminately. The bodies were to be piled into one heap, and on the top of all a living slave would lie on his back. The young chief would then mount the horrid scaffold, and standing upright on the chest of the slave, and holding in his uplifted hands an immense club or gun, the priests would invoke their gods, and commit the future warrior to their especial protection, praying he may kill all the enemies of the tribe, and never be beaten in battle; a cheer and a shout from the assembled multitude concluding the prayer. Two uncles of the boy were then to ascend the human pile, and to invest him with the malo or girdle of snow white tapa; the multitude again calling on the deities to make him a great conqueror, and a terror to all who breathe enmity to Navua. The malo for the occasion would be, perhaps, two hundred yards long, and six or eight inches wide. When wound round the body the lad would hardly be perceivable, and no one but an uncle can divest him of it.

“We proposed,” says Mr. Seeman, “to the chief that we should be allowed to invest his son with the malo, which he at first refused, but to which he consented after deliberation with his people. At the appointed hour the multitude collected in the great strangers’ house or bure ni sa. The lad stood upright in the midst of the assembly guiltless of clothing, and holding a gun over his head. The consul and I approached, and in due form wrapped him up in thirty yards of Manchester print, the priest and people chanting songs and invoking the protection of their gods. A short address from the consul succeeded, stirring the lad to nobler efforts for his tribe than his ancestors had known, and pointing to the path of fame that civilization opened to him. The ceremony concluded by drinking kara, and chanting historical reminiscences of the lad’s ancestors; and thus we saved the lives of five hundred men. During the whole of this ceremony the old chief was much affected, and a few tears might be seen stealing down his cheeks; soon, however, cheering up, he gave us a full account of the time when he came of age, and the number of people that were slain to celebrate the occasion.”

To return, however, to the rain-making business. Lucky is it for the dim-minded heathen that these false priests of his have not the advantage of studying for their profession either in England or America; if it were so, heaven only knows the awful extent to which they would be bamboozled. Rain-makers especially would have a fine time of it, at least, if they were all as clever as Mr. Petherick, who, in his “Egypt and the Soudan,” unblushingly narrates how he “Barnumized” the Africans as a rain-maker.

“The rainy season was now approaching, and still no tidings of my men, and the natives daily continued to surround my encampment, and attempted, sometimes by the report of the murder of my men, and at others by night attacks upon ourselves when in the darkness we could not see them, to induce us to return to our boats and abandon our property. This they more strenuously insisted on, as they were convinced that as long as we remained in the country the rain would not fall, and both themselves and their cattle would be reduced to starvation. This idea being seriously entertained, I one day plainly stated to the chief and several of the principal men the absurdity of their assertions, and endeavoured to explain that God alone,—who had created heaven and earth,—could exercise any power over the elements. The attention with which my discourse was received induced me to prolong it, but to my discomfiture, at its close, it was treated as a capital joke, and only convinced them the more that I endeavoured to conceal from them my own powers. Finding no relief from their increasing persecutions, I at length was reduced to a ruse; and after a reference to an antiquated Weekly Times, I told them that the Supreme Being whose it was to afford them the so much-required rains, withheld them in consequence of their inhospitality towards myself; this, although it had the effect of procuring increased temporary supplies, could not induce them to furnish me with porters. Endless were the straits and absurdities to which I had recourse in order to obtain a respite, but the one creating the greatest amusement to myself and my followers was the following. A deputation of several hundred men, headed by a subchief, from their kraals some miles distant, in the most peremptory manner demanded rain or my immediate departure; the latter they were determined at whatever sacrifice to enforce. Placing my men under arms in an enclosure, and with a pair of revolver pistols at my waist, and a first-rate Dean and Adams’ revolver rifle in my hand, I went into the midst of them, and seated myself in the centre of them, opposite to the subchief, a man fully six feet six inches high, and proportionably well made. I stated that no intimidation could produce rain, and as to compelling me to withdraw, I defied them; that if I liked, with one single discharge of my gun, I could destroy the whole tribe and their cattle in an instant; but that with regard to rain, I would consult my oracle, and invited them to appear before me to-morrow, upon which, with as much dignity as I could command, I withdrew. Various were the feelings of the savages. Some expressed a wish to comply with my desire, whilst others showed an inclination to fall upon me. Although I was convinced that the chief, Tschol, secretly encouraged his men, he in the present instance made a demonstration in my favour; he threatened them with a curse unless they dispersed. Some device now became necessary to obtain a further respite for the desired rains; and setting my wits to work, I hit upon an expedient which I at once put in execution. Despatching some men to catch half-a-dozen large flies, bearing some resemblance to a horse-fly, but much larger, which infested a temporary shed where my donkey had been kept; the men, confident in the success of anything I undertook, set about the task with a will. In the course of the afternoon they were fortunately obtained, and were consigned to an empty bottle. At the appointed time my persecutors did not fail to appear, and shaking a little flower over my flies, I sallied out amongst them, bottle in hand. Referring to their wants, I treated them to a long harangue, touching the depredations which I had learnt in conversation with the chief they had committed upon the cattle of neighbouring tribes, and assassinations of unoffending men who had fallen into their power; also to several abstractions of girls from poor unprotected families of their own tribe, without the payment of the customary dowry in cattle, and dwelt upon the impossibility of their obtaining rain until restitution and satisfaction were made. They unanimously denied the charges; when I told them that it was nothing less than I had expected, but that I was furnished with the means of satisfying myself of the veracity of their assertions. The proof would consist in their restoring to me the flies, which I intended to liberate from the bottle I held. In the event of their succeeding, they should be rewarded with abundant rain; but if one fly escaped, it was a sign of their guilt, and they would be punished with a continuation of drought until restitution was made; therefore it was in their own power to procure rain or otherwise. Hundreds of clubs and lances were poised high in the air, amidst loud shouts of ‘Let them go! let them go! let them go!’ With a prayer for the safety of my flies, I held up the bottle, and smashing it against the barrel of my rifle, I had the satisfaction of seeing the flies in the enjoyment of their liberty. Man, woman, and child gave chase in hot pursuit, and the delight of my men at the success of the stratagem may be imagined. It was not until after the sun had set that the crest-fallen stragglers returned, their success having been limited to the capture of two of the flies, though several spurious ones, easily detected by the absence of the distinctive flour badge, were produced. A long consultation ensued, and in the firm belief of my oracle they determined to adopt measures for the carrying out of its requirements, but with a threat that if the promised rain did not follow, I should incur their vengeance. Aware of the difficulties in store for them from their unwillingness to part with cattle under any circumstances, I promised myself a long cessation from their molestations. I was not disappointed.”