Wild life under the equator

by Paul B. Du Chaillu

Do not think this is the end of the bill of fare. The fishes are still to come, as well as other African dainties.

An enormous dish of manatee was next brought in, which was immediately followed by another dish of boiled mullet. Then came some land and water turtles. I wondered why a boiled snake had not made its appearance, and also some roast gorilla and chimpanzee, these to be surrounded by a few mice and rats. But these are entirely Bakalai dishes, no Commi eating those animals.

It was a sumptuous feast. Obindji was in his glory, and the drummers sang, “Who can give such a feast to the Ntangani except Obindji? Obindji has a fetich”—they continued singing—“that makes the wild beasts come to him, the fish come to him, the white man come to him!”

Quengueza was seated on one side and I on the other, and round us stood the twenty wives and Obindji’s slaves, to wait upon us. Quengueza, who is a great gourmand, took a glance at every dish before him and concluded that he would go into the manatee first, then he would follow up with some fish, and then would pitch into the fat monkey, finishing up with antelope; and he said to me, in his bland and kind manner, that if there was room left he would eat some ncheri (gazelle), but he intended specially to go into the wild boar and the manatee to his heart’s content. “Then,” said he, close to my ear, “you will give me a little glass of brandy.”

I thought I would taste a little of every thing, and bring my stomach to its utmost capacity. Though it was against etiquette, for Obindji could not eat with Quengueza, I told him we had better invite friend Obindji. We called the good fellow, and made him sit with us amid the abundant cheer round us, for all were as merry as they could be.

His Bakalai Majesty was quite proud to eat with a fork which I presented him.

Since Obindji was to eat with us, an addition to the bill of fare—a dish of boiled gorilla—came for his especial benefit; also a dish made of part of a large snake cooked in leaves, the smell of which made Obindji’s mouth water.

The people all round us were eating. The first mouthful I put into my mouth caused cheer after cheer to go up. “The ntanga is eating! The ntanga is eating of the elephant!” For I thought I would begin with King Elephant.

It was a pretty tough piece of meat, I assure you; the grain was very coarse, and the meat was somewhat tasteless and rather dry. The boiled elephant’s foot was better, and I rather liked it. The elephant meat I did not like; it was really too tough.

Obindji recommended to me a bit of crocodile, and the wife who had cooked it said she had been very careful that there was plenty of Cayenne pepper and of lemon juice, and she was sure the broth was excellent. I must say I did not like the idea of eating of the crocodile, but I wanted to know how it tasted. The flesh was very white—somewhat fishy, I thought—and the grain of the meat coarse. I did not like either the broth or meat. The former was so terribly hot with Cayenne pepper that it tasted of nothing else. I was glad to get through with the crocodile.