The Dinka is so abnormally lazy that he has no desire whatever to hire himself for work of any description. Carriers are most difficult to obtain from them even when applied for through the medium of their most influential sheikhs.
At certain seasons they are busily occupied with their cultivation, but for the remainder of the year, with the exception of the few engaged in superintending the grazing of the cattle, they live in absolute idleness, varied only by an occasional and generally futile hunting or fishing expedition.
The women on the other hand are very industrious. On them falls the heavy work of pounding the dura into flour and preparing food and other household duties, as well as carrying water which has often to be brought from a great distance. Salt is not eaten by the Dinkas, nor is it sought after like sugar, and they do not appear to have any substitute for it. The women usually drink milk flavoured with cow’s urine, but the men as a rule drink it unadulterated.
Religion.As is stated on [p. 128,] the Dinka believes in a Creator of the world and mankind known as Deng-Dit. It was only after man had learnt to sacrifice cattle and sheep to Deng-Dit that woman became fruitful and man was able to propagate his species.
The Dinkas have regular priests (Tieit) who are not, however, professional men, but live and work like the ordinary individual. These priests are believed to have supernatural powers of conversing with those who are dead and have become the children of Deng-Dit.
This communion with the dead is held on the occasion of a ceremony to commemorate the deceased or sometimes in cases of serious illness.
Mr. R. Türstig gives the following interesting description of these ceremonies:—
“It was the memorial day for a deceased wife of sheikh Bor. At about 7 a.m. he and some of his people went to the tukl, which had belonged to her, and sat down in front of the doorway; on the other side near the ‘Gu’ or granary sat the deceased wife’s ‘locum tenens’ as well as other wives. In the open space between them the Tieit or priest sat on his cow-hide mat. Close by was a tree from which the branches had been shorn, and to which a large number of cow-horns had been affixed—said by sheikh Bor to be a very old erection—and to the bottom of the tree a live goat was fastened.
“Sheikh Bor and his people then commenced to question the priest on many points with regard to which they desired the opinion of the deceased wife; the priest meanwhile sat with legs crossed supporting his head with one hand, whilst with the other he continued to rattle a bottle-shaped-gourd half-full of lubia beans. After much shaking and rattling he proceeded, having first directly addressed the deceased and having made a suitable pause to enable her to reply, to give a detailed answer on each question in a deep guttural tone, his eyes meanwhile being rigidly fixed on the ground, his voice (similar to a ventriloquist) sounding as though it were not his own.
“Though I was unable to understand much that was being said, one, at least, of the questions and answers referred to the approaching visit of the Mudir.