The tribes farther south are of a still lighter color, some being an earthy red, while others, the Mangbattu for example, are of a lighter tint than perhaps any other tribe of Africa.
IV. The Bantus inhabit the vast area from about Lake Victoria, comprising Eastern Equatorial and South Central Africa. Of the Equatorial tribes, the Ugandas are generally the finest types and the most progressive. Stanley tells us that he found them to be fine craftsmen. Even more than elsewhere, Uganda is a land of musicians, who have developed a great variety of native musical instruments. The Congo region also produces a fine race, physically superior to any of their kinsmen. In the mountains of the region “one sees magnificent specimens of human beings, both male and female. They are a tall, powerful people of dark brown color, often with regular features.”
The tribes to the south of the Equator are among the very finest in general physical and mental development; among them are the Zulus, the Kaffirs, and others nearly as well known to the general reader. The Zulus, e. g., are tall, shapely and muscular, and often with Grecian features, the skin varying from a light clear brown to blue black. Some of these tribes are highly developed in foresight, self-control, rational interpretation, and general intelligence. Many are fearless and brave to the point of foolhardiness, and the stories of the achievements of some of their warriors read like the tales of the Scottish chiefs so fascinating to our boyhood.
But we must content ourselves now with these brief comments, adding a quotation from The Mind of Primitive Man, by Boas. “To those unfamiliar with the products of native African art and industry, a walk through one of the large museums of Europe would be a revelation. None of our American museums has made collections that exhibit this subject in any way worth while. The blacksmith, the wood carver, the weaver, the potter—these all produce ware original in form, executed with care, and exhibiting that love of labor and interest in the results of work, which are apparently so often lacking among the Negroes in our American surroundings.”
Our studies have revealed, in the negro race, a great variety of intelligence, often of a very high order; powers of organization of no slight degree of development; and thrift that has supplied large cities as trade centers, of which Timbuctoo is, perhaps, chief. “Neither is the wisdom of the philosopher absent,” says Professor Boas. “A perusal of any of the collections of African proverbs that have been published, will demonstrate the homely, practical philosophy of the Negro, which is often proof of sound feeling and judgment.”
The religions of the more advanced tribes, though differing in many of their practical details of application to life, may fairly be treated as one. It should not surprise us to find that there is no known tribe in Africa, or elsewhere in the world, which has not a religion; for God “hath not left Himself without witness” among any people.
Religion does not begin with the Incarnate Christ. He is not the first revelation of God, but His last and complete revelation. Through the personal message of the Incarnate One correcting errors, interpreting and confirming mysteries, and thus revealing the rational in what is inexplicable and indefinable otherwise, comes the interpretation of man’s natural religion. The fulfilment of all religion is Jesus Christ; without Whom, religion has ever degenerated into superstition. In its primary meaning, Religion is the law of relation—personal relation to all that is outside of self—to God, to one’s own complex nature, to man, and to the world. And since the law of relation is personal, it is susceptible of an infinite variety of interpretations and applications as personality grows and expands. Upon the growth of the religious sense, therefore, depends the progress of moral and spiritual character. The source of enlightenment for the savage is the great Book of Nature, God’s first volume of His Self-revelation. In the interpretation of this book, manifold elements enter, combining to yield many lessons from its living chapters. The initial question of all peoples as they looked out upon the world has been: Whence came it? And upon the forces of nature: What are they? In a land filled with wild beasts and reptiles, visited by storms and floods, subject to earthquakes and volcanoes, its people a prey to disease and death, what is the explanation that the African has given? What has he thought of sun, moon and stars, and of earth itself? It is safe to say that his answers to these questions have been pretty much what other primitive peoples have given. If the wind blows, it is a spirit grown restless; if the lightning flashes, it is the angry hiss of a malignant spirit; if sun and moon travel through the air, they are powerful gods, far removed, but remotely affecting the earth; if an eclipse comes, the gods in anger hide their faces; if wild beasts roar and serpents hiss, these are the emissaries of evil spirits. Thus everything that moves is endowed with life and intelligence. The Eskimo, for instance, is persuaded that a watch is a living thing because its parts move.
Naturally, the African first feared the mysterious living spirits; then sought to pacify and bribe by the only offerings valuable in his own eyes—the food and drink which satisfied and made content. His idea of spirits was the reflection of his scant knowledge of himself—a half-true, half-false, canon of interpretation which becomes wholly false when the other half is unknown or forgotten; for the idea of self must also be the reflection of God’s knowledge of us and of His purpose for us and our knowledge of Him.
In many tribes, a belief in a double personality prevails, and this the African proves by the wandering of oneself when, in the dream of sleep, he goes upon journeys, meets friends or enemies, engages in sports, or conflict, and returns, filled with experiences, to the other self which has been quietly asleep all the while. And because this dream-self meets, sometimes, the spirits of the dead, therefore one of these selves must live after death. This gives rise, too, to the belief that one of these personal spirits is not inseparable from the body, but may go out at pleasure at any time, and inhabit other men, or even beasts. This spirit, or Kra, makes its exit through the mouth always, and since these Kras are moving about at large, a strange Kra may slip into the unoccupied place of another, and cause no end of mischief; it is important, therefore, not to sleep with the mouth open.
When a man loses his Kra, illness results, and the witch doctor must be called in, who brings a good Kra, or dream-soul, in a basket. If successful in getting this new Kra into the sick man’s mouth, recovery results. So, too, when the Kra of the dead lingers about the home, sickness is caused, and only the doctor, by inducing the Kra to move on to the land of the dead, can thus restore the living to health. In time, however, among many tribes, the Kra returns to make his abode in a newborn infant, whose features and actions disclose the identity of the Kra. Miss Kingsley notes the incident of an identification. When a baby has grasped a pipe shown him, the mother is sure that “he is Uncle John. See, he knows his pipe!” The reader may find some correspondence between this notion of the double personality and those entertained by the scholarly psychologists of the Caucasian race in their dissertation upon the supra-normal self, and like manifestations.