He then seized a portion of the man’s body, and with his butcher-knife horribly mutilated him. The man started, bleeding, to go to his town, and died on the way.
The section of country in which Ogwedembe’s portion of the Shekyani tribe lived was south of Gabun, toward the Orungu people at the mouth of the Nazareth branch of the Ogowe River. Sometimes he and his brother would travel in their war canoes all the way from their place, and, passing Gabun, would go on northward to attack the Benga of Cape Esterias without cause and in sheer ruthlessness.
Some of his daughters and sisters were married to Mpongwe chiefs at Gabun. At times his daughters and nieces would go and visit him. They would be received with firing of guns and other great demonstrations, and on leaving would be laden with presents.
About twenty years ago one of his sisters, named Akanda, died in the prime of life. She lived at Gabun, her husband a Mpongwe. (She was the mother of Adova, my hostess, who is apparently about sixty years of age, and has a younger brother apparently about thirty years of age.) So, when that sister died, Ogwedembe came to Gabun, on the St. Thomè side, to the funeral. My sick friend happened to be there at the time (for, by family marriage, she is a cousin to Adova) and saw the old chief.
Ogwedembe, according to native custom, demanded of the husband a fine for his sister’s death (as if due to lack of proper care of her). When that was paid, as a sign that no ill-will was retained, Ogwedembe was to give the widower another wife.
During this discussion Ogwedembe kept saying, “I wish my sister had not been married to a Mpongwe, for it is not your custom to shed blood for this cause. But I feel a great desire to kill some one. If this had been a Shekyani marriage, I would have gone from town to town killing as I chose.” The Mpongwe replied, “But we have no such custom.” He answered, “Yes, I know that. I only said what I would like to do, though your tribal custom will not allow me to do it.”
His demand of a fine being finally yielded to and paid, to show his peaceful intentions, he gave the husband one of his daughters, a widow who had with her two children,—a son and a daughter,—and who afterward bore him other children.
Ogwedembe’s bloody instincts were suppressed at that funeral, and he remained awhile after the close of the mourning ceremonies, making friendly visits among his Mpongwe sons-in-law, and then went back to his Shekyani country.
A short time after that the eldest daughter of that woman Akanda (my hostess Adova) and her husband Owondo visited Ogwedembe. He made a great welcome for them, with dancing and rejoicing of various kinds. Every day he sent his people to fish and hunt, to obtain food for Adova and the children she had with her.
Before Adova left, Ogwedembe called his principal wife and his grandchildren, and said, “When I die, you who are here in Shekyani, do not remain here, but go to Gabun and live with Akanda’s children all the rest of your life.” When he finally died, they obeyed and came to St. Thomè, of Gabun, bringing their idols with them.