Of course, if Satu and his side were dishonest players they might deny that the seed picked up was the playing seed. But that would do them no good, for Boko, who had been sent out of sight and hearing, was a check on them. How the check worked was shown when Mpoko in his turn threw the seed. This time the third seed, tatu, was the “playing seed.” It was the turn of Satu’s side to guess, and they disagreed. Satu thought it was the fifth, and the others were divided between the third and the sixth. In the end they took a chance, and Satu, picking up the fifth seed, said, “This is the playing seed, and its name is tano.” But it wasn’t the playing seed.
Still, Satu’s side had one more chance. Mpoko had sent Nkula out of sight and hearing before the discussion began, and Nkula would have to come back and pick up the playing seed, depending on his memory of the way in which the seeds lay when he left the circle. Mpoko touched tatu, the playing seed, and then called Nkula back. Everybody watched, breathless. If Nkula touched the wrong seed, Satu’s side would still win. But he didn’t. Nkula had a good memory, and he remembered that tatu, the playing seed, lay at one end of a line of three, the only three seeds close together in a straight line. He picked it up and said, “This is the playing seed, and its name is tatu.”
It will be seen that it is almost impossible to cheat in this game. If Satu had really picked up the right seed, and Mpoko had denied that he did, then when Nkula came back there would have been no right seed on the ground; and if Mpoko pointed to the wrong seed, the chances were all against Nkula’s guessing that one seed, out of the thirty-nine still remaining on the ground.
The old hunters who were looking on very much approved of this game, which they had played when they were boys, and their fathers and grandfathers before them. A good player must have a quick eye and a good memory, both of which are most needful in hunting. As the Bantu proverb has it, “For a running antelope one needs a running shot.”
The next game, Mbele, or the Knife, trained not only the eye but the limbs, and was sometimes played by boys and girls alike. All the players stood in line, Satu at the head and Mpoko next him. Satu stepped out and faced Mpoko, and holding up both hands waved them about, and then shot out one hand quickly. Mpoko countered with the corresponding hand. This was done three times, and the third time Mpoko missed, for he was in too much of a hurry and answered the wrong gesture. Nkula, who came next, failed also; but in Boko, Satu met his match, and Boko became “King” in his turn, while Satu went to the foot of the line. If the King could go down the line without meeting his match, the last one in the line would be called a slave, and would go out. Sometimes—so Mpoko’s father told them—Satu’s father, as King, had gone up and down the line until all the other players were slaves.
Games such as these not only teach the players to move promptly, see correctly and remember what they see, but give them practice in judging by the expression of a person’s face what he is about to do or what he is thinking. When a boy trained in games of the wits, like these, grows up and becomes a chief or a trader, it is very hard for any one to deceive him, or to read his face when he does not wish his thoughts to be known. They are also games which must be played fairly if there is to be any fun in them.
Besides playing their games, the boys wrestled, ran races, had contests in high jumping, and did as much bragging and arguing as is usual in a crowd of boys on a three days’ holiday. On the third day the boys from Satu’s village and Mpoko and his friends got into an argument, and there was a quarrel which attracted the attention of the fathers and led to punishment.
That evening Mpoko remembered something. He sidled over to the Alo Man, who was just then sitting by himself mending a marimba, and said, “What is the story about the People with the Bandaged Faces?”
“Ho!” said the Alo Man. “Do you think that fashion is a good one?”
“I don’t know,” said Mpoko. “I should like to see some people with their faces bandaged.”