The Country of the Dwarfs

by Paul B. Du Chaillu

At the foot of Birougou-Bouanga was the village of Niembouai-Olomba, which meant Upper Niembouai. The head men of Niembouai and of Upper Niembouai were two brothers, so the people consented to receive me, and we tarried there a few days. The village was situated just at the junction of two gorges or valleys, one of which ran almost directly north and south, and the other east and west. From the village, looking up, I could see the sun as it rose almost from the natural horizon. The wind during the day blew all the time from the south, and early in the morning the temperature was quite cool—69° Fahrenheit.

After leaving Niembouai-Olomba, and traveling through the great and dense forest, we came to a village called Mobana, the inhabitants belonging to the Ashango tribe, for we were still in the Ashango territory. The chief of Mobana was called Rakombo. The village was situated at the summit of a mountain 2369 feet in height, at the foot of which ran a beautiful stream called Bembo. The Bembo was the first river I had reached which ran toward the east, toward where the sun rose. How glad I was! "It no doubt falls into the Congo River," I said, for I began to hear of a large stream in our line of march going toward the rising sun.

The great embarrassment now was that the people were so much afraid of me, not as a spirit who brings the plague, but as a spirit whose evil eye they dared not meet. I succeeded in leaving Mobana, as I had left scores of villages before, without trouble, and Rakombo had taken me to a village farther east with the name of Mouaou-Kombo. The name of the village proper was Mouaou, and the chief's name was Kombo. If the people of the wild tribes I had passed before had been afraid of me, the people of Mouaou-Kombo stood in still greater dread of my coming. The people of Mobana, who had taken me to that village, had disappeared one by one, and Rakombo himself, their chief, had deserted me. So I was left all alone with my Commi men among the Mouaou-Kombo people.

A few days after my arrival at Mouaou-Kombo, if you had sought me or my Commi men in the village, you would not have found us there. Where were we? We were encamped by ourselves not far from the village, from which we had withdrawn to show the people that we were tired of remaining there, and impatient to take our departure. We had been busy that day in cutting down trees around our camp to serve as an abatis and safeguard, so that nobody could approach us without making us aware of it by their noise in penetrating the dense branches. We passed the night in reasonable security, though without much fire, for our dogs, Andèko, Commi-Nagoumba, Rover, Turk, Fierce, and Ndjègo, would have in an instant apprised us by their barking of any strange visitor attempting to enter the camp. All our luggage was by us. The path from Mouaou-Kombo to our retreat was very steep.

I had that day sent Igala, Rebouka, and Mouitchi, armed to the teeth, along the path leading eastward, telling them to look sharp, and to ascertain, if they came to a village whether the inhabitants did not want us to pass through their country; in fact, to learn all the news they could, and make report to me. After two hours Igala came back laughing, and saying that he had entered a big village, from which the people had fled in perfect terror, thinking I had come with him, but that finally he had succeeded in holding a parley with some of the inhabitants, and learned that they had trouble with the Mouaou-Kombo people. Igala told them not to be afraid of me, and that they must not be alarmed if they should see me come to their village. So far all was right; we knew exactly what was ahead of us. "Well done," I said, "my boys."

The next morning a deputation of villagers of Mouaou-Kombo came to our camp and begged us to come back, saying that if I would return, in two days they would conduct me by another route to the southeast in order to avoid the hostile villages. So we returned to the village, the villagers helping my men in carrying our luggage back. Now I regretted that I had no more Commi men with me, so that we might have been independent of strangers for the transportation of our luggage.

As I came back to Mouaou-Kombo, little did I know what a dark cloud was hanging over us, for my heart was filled with joy at the prospect of soon continuing our journey. Little did I dream of the storm that in a short time was to burst upon us. Little did I think, as I ascended the hill in the midst of the peals of laughter of my Commi men and of the Ashangos, that there was fighting and bloodshed in store; that I was soon to be engaged with my men in defending our lives, and in beating a disastrous retreat along the way we had come, and see the mournful end of that glorious journey upon which I had set my heart! Like the little leaf cast upon the stream of Mokenga, I was drifting I knew not whither. I had no knowledge then of the breakers ahead, and now I am going to relate to you the sad story.

I had entered again the village of Mouaou-Kombo; our luggage had been put back in the huts; Kombo, the chief, headed by his elders, had come to receive me, beating his kendo as he advanced. After a while the elders departed, and the chief and his queen were seated by my side in the street. The people were passing to and fro to their accustomed avocations, and every thing was going on as usual.

"Is it true," said Kombo to me, "that you Oguizis kill people as we Ashangos kill monkeys and the wild beasts of the forest? We Ashangos believe you do it, and that is the reason we are afraid of you. We are even afraid that your eye is an evil one, and that a look of yours can bring death." Then the chief stopped and looked at me.

"Nèshi, nèshi, nèshi," I repeated three times (no, no, no), and I spat on the ground to show him how I hated what he had said. "No," said I, "Kombo, the Oguizi loves people, loves the Ashangos, and kills no one."