On the evening of the fourth day, just at sunset, the corpse was carried to the grave for burial. The bearers took it first round the town, and pretended that the corpse was reluctant to leave the town so they had to struggle with it to the burial place, and there they buried it with its feet to the setting sun, and its head towards the east.
As the corpse was carried by the houses of the principal men they came out to greet it, and fire their guns in a parting salute to their late chief; and after that farewell from the town the funeral guns were loaded and fired in quick succession to inform the spirits in the great, mysterious forest town that an important man was coming.
The Lower Congo natives always buried at sunset for this reason: During the daytime their own towns are deserted, because the women and girls go to the farms and do not return until the afternoon; and the men and boys go to hunt or fish, or work in the forest, or trade on the markets, and do not return until the evening. Hence the old, the sick and the children only are left in the town; consequently any one arriving during that time would find few, if any, to greet them; but if the traveller reaches a town between five and six o’clock the folk will have returned from their various occupations, and at every step he will be greeted by the people. They think that the great forest town of spirits is conducted in the same way, and to ensure a welcome to the deceased they bury him just before sunset with much firing of guns, blowing of ivory trumpets, and beating of their drums.
Just as the burial rites were completed a white man, a State officer, arrived. He was greeted, and a house was cleared out, swept and given to him for the night. The white man walked freely about the town that evening and enjoyed the hospitality of the people. He watched the dances, listened to the native band composed of ivory trumpets and various drums, and was free to go and come as he pleased. In the morning he repaid their hospitality by demanding the ivory trumpets from them.
This unreasonable request the natives refused to obey; a fracas ensued followed by a scuffle, during which the officer was securely tied.
One party of the natives wanted to kill him and pour his blood on the grave of their buried chief; but another, and stronger, party resisted this extremity, wishing only to punish him for trying to enforce an unjust demand. Finally it was decided to shave the man’s head, beard, moustache and eyebrows and send him off.
When the officer’s head and face had been reduced to the smoothness of a billiard ball--native shaving is not a gentle process--he was allowed to proceed on his way a sadder, and, perhaps, a wiser man. I heard that ever after that encounter with the natives he heartily and thoroughly abused them to his compatriots, but he carefully left out of the account his attempt to steal their ivory trumpets.
The Congos have a proverb that runs thus: In a court of fowls the cockroach never wins his case; i. e. the verdict of one race against another is to be received with caution.
Chapter VI
Our Town Life
Streets are irregular--Houses small and draughty--Their reception, dining, and drawing rooms are in the open air--Their many charms and fetishes--Routine of the day--Bakula tells a story: “How the Sparrow set the Elephant and the Crocodile to pull against each other”--Tumbu, a slave, relates the tale of “The Four Fools”--And Bakula tells: “How the Squirrel won a Verdict for the Gazelle.”