Congo life and folklore

by John H. Weeks

When the folk had exhausted themselves into quietness the Kapitau asked loudly three times: “Do you know this man’s name?” and the people replied each time: “No, we do not know his name!” Then the King’s deputy exclaimed loudly: “It is Ngudi a nkama Katendi.” The men and women, hearing this, rounded their mouths with pursed lips, and beat them with the extended fingers of their right hands, making thereby a long series of Wo! Wo! Wo! and again the drums were beaten, guns fired, and ivory trumpets sounded until the very air seemed to quiver with discordant noises.

The Kapitau then instructed the new noble how he was to deport himself as a man of high rank. In future he must not, when walking, visiting, hunting or trading, carry anything except his walking-stick or gun. In fact, he was never again to carry anything like a boy or an ordinary man. Should any person meet him bearing any article, save his stick or gun, such a person may take away the said article and either keep it for himself or sell it. Should he shoot any game he must send some one for it, for if he attempted to bring it into the town himself, the first to meet him may deprive him of his spoils. He must never, under any circumstances, gather firewood or fetch water; and, lastly, the new noble must never beat his wives, and should he so far forget himself as to do so, he may be mulcted in a fine of several fowls or one goat. These instructions completed, a bracelet was put on his arm as a sign of his new and important rank.

Satu gave the Kapitau four pieces of cloth and a pig to compensate him for his trouble; and a great feast of pigs, goats and palm-wine was prepared for the people in honour of the occasion. The night was occupied with gluttony, dancing, immorality and drunkenness, for men and women, boys and girls were reeling about in maudlin intoxication all over the town. Fortunately they had nothing but palm-wine to drink, which never makes the drinkers quarrelsome, like the fiery waters supplied by traders.

Only chiefs are permitted to own and use leopards’ skins, and when one of these animals is slain there is considerable local excitement as to which chief will gain possession of the skin by his largesse to the fortunate slayer of the brute.

The other week a leopard was killed in our neighbourhood, and the lucky man who shot it had it carried from chief to chief in the district. The front and back paws were tied, and a pole was passed through the legs and hoisted on to the shoulders of some men. In this ignominious fashion--dangling from a pole--the prize was hawked from place to place. One chief gave four kegs of gunpowder (worth 16s.); another gave seven blankets (worth 21s.); another, who already owned a leopard skin, and could not afford a second, presented eight looking-glasses (worth 5s.); and thus each gave, not knowing what the others had given. Satu gave four blankets, three kegs of powder, and two rugs (worth in all 30s.), and thus exceeded the others in generous presents. Directly it was known who gave the largest sum to the leopard slayer, Satu went and put his foot on the beast, and thus established his claim to it. The animal was removed and in due time skinned. It could not be flayed until it was trodden on by its future owner.

The leopard after it is killed is always referred to with great respect as Mfumu, or chief; and after the carcass has made the circuit of the chiefs it is carried back to the hunter’s town, and two or three days are given wholly to festivities. Guns are fired, drums are beaten, the people dance and sing songs in honour of the slayer of Mfumu, and much palm-wine is drunk. The leopard is then flayed and eaten. Some ate the flesh believing they would become lithe, cunning and strong like the leopard, but others refused to eat it from a superstitious fear of spots--like the leopard’s--breaking out on their own skins.

The gifts presented by the various chiefs paid the expenses of the festivities, and Satu sat on this skin when he was invested with the high rank of a noble. If the skin had been given to a chief out of the district in which the hunter killed the animal it would have been resented as an insult, and the towns and villages would have combined to fight the hunter’s town or enforced the payment of a heavy fine.

Satu’s deceased brother was a very poor trader, and had such frequent losses on his trading journeys that on one occasion he was compelled to “pawn” one of his younger brothers to a neighbouring chief to pay his many debts. He had borrowed fifty pieces of cloth on his brother, and although he frequently afterwards possessed more than that number, and in fact died worth more than three hundred pieces, yet he never troubled to redeem his brother, but left him in servitude. As a “pledge in pawn” the brother received no pay from the one who held him, no matter how hard he laboured.

Satu, on the other hand, was a keen, successful trader, and had accumulated a great amount of native wealth. Consequently, as a rich man and a noble, he was expected by public opinion to redeem his brother out of bondage. One of Satu’s first acts after his dignity was conferred on him was to take the fifty pieces of cloth, a calabash of palm-wine and a white goat; and, calling Bakula and others to carry the goods and accompany him as witnesses, went to the town where his brother was held in slavery.

On reaching the town he sent for the pawnbroker or holder, who came at once followed by a few friends, who all paid homage to Satu as a great noble. The natives bowed to the King and rendered homage three times at each of the three places as they approached; but to Satu they bowed only once at each place as they drew near.