The jungle folk of Africa

by Robert H. Milligan

“No,” cried the people; and they crowded between the chief and Ndong Koni. The palaver was finished; but I thought it well to pass on to the next town and not wait to hold a service. Before I got away however they crowded around me, saying: “Since you are the father of the Fang surely you ought to give us some tobacco. A father gives tobacco to his sons.”

It is thus frequently in Africa; the serious ends in burlesque; and, perhaps as frequently, comedy ends in tragedy.

The chief himself, coming forward just before my departure, assured me of his good will by solemnly taking my hand in his and spitting in it. I know the theory of some regarding this touching demonstration of affection,—that the native means only to blow with his breath, symbolic of imparting a blessing, and that the spitting is incidental, a “by-product”—so to speak—of the blessing. But as I looked at my hand I realized that it was not a theory, but a condition, that confronted me, a condition that called loudly for soap and water—warm water and plenty of soap. I have before this acknowledged the receipt of blessings in disguise; but I would cheerfully renounce any possible benefits that might accrue from a blessing coming in such a disguise as this. And if the old chief had approached me a second time with the offer of a blessing on the other hand, I would have said: “Please give me a curse instead, by way of variety.”

The form of “socialism,” by which any one of a village may be seized and killed by the enemy for the wrong of any other of that same village, is even carried further, and to the extent that one person may be given over to the enemy for the wrong done by another person. I have already said, in reference to the Bulu, that at the end of a war the ordinary way of settling the palaver is that the side that has done the most killing will pay over to the other side a corresponding number of women, who become wives or sometimes slaves in the enemy’s town.

In war they are not careful to kill only the enemy, but often shoot recklessly at any one in sight who might possibly belong to the other side, not waiting to be sure about it. In the dark forest they often mistake a friend for a foe, with dreadful consequences. On the river it is not so frequent.

One evening one of my boys, Amvama, who afterwards became a catechist, an honest and lovable boy, was in a canoe on the river, fishing with a net. It was evening and he was in the shade of overhanging trees. Several canoes approached and the people mistaking Amvama fired upon him. He hastened to the bank and leaving the canoe and net fled into the forest, while they seized all that he had left. They afterwards learned who it was that they had so nearly killed. Amvama’s people demanded his canoe and net, which were surrendered. But the civilized Amvama cared less for the loss of these things than for the personal outrage done him in their attempt to kill him. He indignantly put the question: “Why did you fire upon me?”

They only replied: “How did we know it was you?”

“How did you know it was not I?” responded Amvama. But it is not likely that the discussion contributed greatly to the science of ethics among the Fang.

There is a strange war-custom in all the tribes of West Africa unlike anything that I have known or heard of elsewhere. Often when a woman is stolen from a small and poorly defended town, the people, desiring to make a desperate protest, or being unusually resentful and fierce, will kill some person of a third town that has nothing whatever to do with the palaver, by way of drawing attention to the fact that a crime has been committed and of impressing the community with its enormity. But it seems hard that a man should be punished for a crime without having the pleasure of committing it. Sometimes, however, this is done to enlist the help of the third town. For, this third town according to custom is not supposed to retaliate directly but will unite with the town which has killed one of their people in wreaking vengeance upon the first town, which was the original offender and therefore the cause of all the trouble.

Imagine A, B and C to be three schoolboys; the principle of the custom then is this (if the colloquial language may be pardoned): A licks B; B, not being able to lick A, lies in wait for C and licks him; then C joins with B and they together lick A. The moral beauty of this principle is evident: A, B and C each get licked.