Congo life and folklore

by John H. Weeks

Satu put down his gun, and with calmness and dignity went up to Dimbula and said: “I drove the white man away because I did not know him, and I accepted your slave according to native custom; but they are no excuses for insulting me. Listen, I swear by my mother,[^[60]] that if you do not apologize and pay homage to me by the end of the hunting season I will fight you”; and turning his back on Dimbula he picked up his gun and walked away.

Just as Satu’s party reached the brow of the next hill, Dimbula sprang forward and shouted in contemptuous and boastful derision: “O mighty chief Satu, can I lend you twenty kegs of powder for the coming fight?”

The town was all excitement when they heard of the insults that had been heaped on their chief, and many of the more fiery ones wished to begin the fight at once; but Satu would not give his consent, and told them to wait until the hunting was finished.

A few weeks after the fires were over a fine grass covered the hill-sides and plateaus with such delicious fresh verdure that the antelopes and gazelles were enticed from the forests where they had fled from the devouring flames, to browse on it, and so delighted were they with the new sweet crop that they forgot all dangers, and were easily surrounded by hunters and shot down.

In these hunts native dogs were used, and a “medicine man” was usually called to endow them with good tracking powers. The nganga took some chalk, some different leaves and the head of a viper. These he mixed thoroughly together and made into a bundle. He then took a small portion of the bundle and put it in a funnel-twisted leaf, caught a wasp and pressed its juice into the funnel, put in a little palm-wine, and squeezed the juice of this mixture into each dog’s nose. They then became good trackers and hunters. The chalk gave them wisdom, the leaves gave good health, the portion of viper imparted stealthiness, and just as a wasp makes straight for its nest, so the dogs would make straight for the game.

Some of Satu’s people went one day with their dogs to hunt, and had been gone most of the day when an antelope was seen by Bakula on the side of a distant hill. They instantly spread, worked to leeward and gradually bore down on the unsuspecting creature. The nearest man fired[^[61]] and the poor animal fell mortally wounded. Directly it fell some grass was cut and spread out, and the antelope was laid on it.

The hunter who killed it put the butt of his gun to his shoulder and the muzzle on the carcass. A cross cut was made on the stomach, and the hunter put his fingers three times to the cut and to his upper lip, then again three times to the cut, and rubbed his fingers each time on his gun. The antelope was then removed, and the hunter put the muzzle of his gun under the grass and turned it over. The animal could not be cut up until this ceremony was performed, or the hunter would have lost his “hunting skill,” and, besides, it established beyond a doubt the ownership of the antelope.

The flesh of the animals killed in the hunts is always divided, according to certain well-recognized rules: the kidneys and strips of meat from the back were sent to Satu as chief of the town; one hind-leg was given to the men who were left in the town, and they shared it with their wives; one fore-quarter was given to the hunters, the heart was given to the father of the successful hunter, certain portions were sent to his mother and aunt, and the rest belonged to the man who killed it.

When the antelope was being divided, the bladder was emptied and filled with blood, and in a day or two it was carried to the Kimpovela, or advocate, in charge of the renowned hunter’s grave. The Kimpovela brought from his house a small wooden cross and fixed it in the grave. He then put the successful bullet in the prepared hole in the cross and poured the blood over the cross and the grave as an offering, saying as he did so: “We thank you for sending us such a fine animal, and hope you will repeat the favour.” Only the blood of antelopes is given in this way. Some of the blood was rubbed on their fetish charms, and the end of the antelope’s tail was stuck in the wall over the doorway of the successful hunter.

During the hunting season Old Plaited-Beard was unsuccessful in his hunting--not a single animal fell to his gun, although he had several fine opportunities. He was exasperated at his failure, and looked around for the reason why his charms were ineffective. He now recalled to mind what the boys who accompanied Bakula told him on their return about their companion’s disparaging remarks concerning the “medicine man,” his fetish, and his trickery. He also remembered his admiration for the white man, and the attempts he made to bring about a meeting between them. Putting all these things together, he came to the conclusion that Bakula had bewitched him and his charms, and that consequently he was unable to kill any game.