The following morning the plantation wore an unusual aspect. Every woman was busy cooking something. I waited around to see what.
In one pot a piece of elephant was boiling; in another a piece of antelope was being cooked. Further on a big fat monkey was roasting on a bright charcoal fire. In another place, the ribs of a huge boar were being roasted in the same manner. Not far from where the boar was being cooked, a big piece of smoked hippopotamus was being boiled. Still further, a piece of smoked buffalo was also boiling, and the cook was scraping ndica into the pot, to add to the flavor of the meat, while another woman was mixing njavi oil with some other kind of meat. In one pot a piece of a large python was boiling.
When all the meats were nearly ready, the women cooked green plantains, took their skins off, cut them in two or three pieces, and then put them in earthenware pots, covering them with green plantain leaves, and in less than half an hour they were ready to be eaten. The plantain must be eaten when quite warm; then it is mealy; when cold it becomes hard, and is not very good.
In the meantime, some of the men were beating tomtoms furiously. Then men appeared with calabashes filled up with palm wine, a liquid coming from the sap of a species of palm-tree which, after it has fermented, becomes intoxicating.
Mats had been spread upon the ground. Baskets and home-made earthenware pots were to be used as dishes. Leaves took the place of plates, gourds of goblets, and fingers of forks.
When everything was ready, we seated ourselves cross-legged on the ground, upon the mats that had been spread. Regundo, Oshoria, Ngola, Ogoola, Quabi, the medicine doctor, or ouganga, and I were close together. Dishes containing the meat of the animals I have mentioned were put before us. I offered to Regundo some buffalo meat.
“No, Oguizi,” said Regundo; “I never touch buffalo meat when it is before me, for it is ‘roondah’ Then the ouganga, or medicine-man, exclaimed: “The wild boar is ‘roondah’ to me and to my clan;” and as I was on the point of putting a piece of hippopotamus on the leaf of Oshoria, the latter said: “No, no, Oguizi. I never eat hippopotamus meat. It is ‘roondah’ to me, because in the days of old one of my clan gave birth to a hippopotamus.” I laughed so much after he said this, shouting, “Never did a human being give birth to a hippopotamus!” that Oshoria said, very seriously: “I speak the truth, Oguizi, believe me.” Every man had a “roondah,” and never used the vessel in which his forbidden meat had been cooked.