The world of the great forest

by Paul B. Du Chaillu

Then he beat his chest with his great fist. The sound was like that of a huge partly muffled drum, for his chest was as hard as wood. To try his immense strength, he went to a tree several inches in diameter near him, and seizing it with both hands and feet broke it in two as if it had been a young sapling. He was delighted when he saw how strong he was, and gave a chuckle of satisfaction, a horrid one peculiar to the nginas.

Looking round, he saw a big thigh-bone of a very large antelope, which had been devoured by a njego. He picked it up and crushed it into splinters between his jaws, which have more power than those of a lion. Then he gave another chuckle of satisfaction, for he saw how hard he could bite an enemy.

Then he yelled. These yells sounded somewhat like the barking of angry dogs, only a hundred times louder. They were followed by roar after roar, which filled the great forest with their din and were re-echoed from hill to hill until they sounded like distant thunder.

All the animals and birds of the forest were filled with fear and said, “The huge ngina speaks. No one among us has such a powerful voice.”

These roars were roars of defiance with which he challenged the creatures of the forest to come and fight him. In his pride he thought himself the ruler of the great forest. After he stopped roaring there was a great silence. All the animals were filled with fright.

Suddenly the shrill trumpeting of a njokoo was heard. It was indeed a fearful trumpeting, a trumpeting of defiance. It meant: “I am not afraid of you, ngina, neither of your yells and roars. If you should ever dare to attack me and seize my trunk, I could crush you against a tree. And if you climbed on my back, I would run, and the branches of the trees under which I would pass would make short work of you.” After the challenge of the njokoo to the ngina came another silence. It was soon broken, however. Once more the ngina gave terrific yells and roars. The njokoo at the same time repeated his ugly trumpeting. Both continued for some time, but they did not come together, nor even in sight of each other.

The ngina was thinking: “No creature of this forest can fight the njokoo. Not even I with my great strength would dare to attack him, for though I can kill a leopard, I cannot kill a njokoo. If he comes to attack me, I can climb a tree which he cannot uproot, and from there I can dare him and yell and roar at him.”

After a while the njokoo and the ngina went each his own way. No wonder that the human beings of the forest, who possess only spears and arrows, are afraid of the ngina and never dare to attack him. Woe to those who come unexpectedly upon one, for a single blow from the hand of the monster would suffice to slay a man!

The ngina wandered through the forest in the direction of his mate and baby, who were far away. They held a conversation, though they were several miles apart, and when they met they greeted each other with great affection.

The big ugly creatures looked at each other and at their baby ngina, and once in a while gave chuckles which in the ngina language meant, “How happy I am! How I love you both!” The baby ngina was about two years old and was trying to break with its teeth some of the nuts which had fallen on the ground, but his jaws were not yet strong enough to do so. His mouth was yet too small for nuts of such a size. Mamma Ngina came to his help, crushed them with her powerful jaws, and handed the pits to her little one, uttering a peculiar sound at the same time, which meant, “Here, dear, are the cracked nuts. Take them.” He, in return, made some kind of noise expressing his feelings, which might be translated, “I thank you, Mamma Ngina.”