CHAPTER XV

NAMBIRI TO TSCHOPOWA

The chief of Nambiri turned out to be a charming little old man; one of Nature's gentlemen. He wore a long grey beard, and not much else beside, but his manners were courtly and kindly, and he bore himself with a certain savage stateliness, tempered by a deference that had in it no trace of cringing or servility. Since parting with the old Uro of Bafilo, I have met no African potentate who has impressed me so favourably. Unlike so many village chiefs, he was not unduly intrusive. He waited until we had had a bath and a sleep, then came with his "presents." They were more than abundant, including, besides the usual chickens, eggs, &c., a young calf. Schomburgk at first refused to accept this, knowing that the return "present" expected would be of considerable value; but the old man begged so hard, saying that the first white woman to honour his town with a visit must be properly feasted, that at last he consented. We gave him in return a piece of silk cloth, and a number of brass and copper rods, with which he seemed to be highly delighted, and all the rest of the day he kept pottering round, trying in every way that lay in his power to make things comfortable for us.

That night the soldiers killed the calf, and I distributed the meat to our boys, keeping the best portions for ourselves. These I ordered to be roasted at once, a precaution only too necessary with meat in this climate, as otherwise it will go bad in a surprisingly short time. The boys are greatly delighted when this happens, because the native has no qualms whatever about eating tainted meat. They always pretend to be very sorry when they come up to me with the news, "Missy, um meat gone smell--um quite bad"; but it is easy to see by the irrepressible glitter in their eyes that they are secretly delighted. Consequently, they were rather crestfallen when I ordered that our share of the meal should all be roasted there and then. They considered that a good meat meal had, from their point of view, been practically stolen from them.

The Konkombwa villages round about here are the prettiest and neatest I have seen in Togo. They are quite small, consisting mostly of from five to ten huts, and each little community seems to be more or less self-contained. The social system under which they live, in fact, may be best described as a blend of the communal and the patriarchal. It is very astonishing that these splendid savages, so warlike by training and instinct, and of so fine and stalwart an appearance, should have been, for as far back as their history or traditions extend, under the domination of the neighbouring Dagomba tribe. The only explanation I can think of is that the Dagomba have guns, and probably became possessed of them, moreover, and learnt their use, at a very early date, whereas the Konkombwa are still in the bow-and-arrow stage of martial evolution. The Konkombwa women are by no means ill-looking; but they are short and squat, and their good appearance is considerably detracted from owing to their custom of cropping their hair quite close, the cuttings being used, I was told, by the young warriors to make up their own elaborate head-dresses. I wonder what a European girl would say, if she were required to sacrifice her tresses for the benefit of her brothers, her sweetheart, or her husband. I rather think she would indignantly refuse; but these dusky belles take it quite as a matter of course. It is the custom of the country, and here, as elsewhere, it appears to be a more or less settled conviction that whatever is, is right. As regards their behaviour, the Konkombwa women compare very favourably with any in Togoland. Not only are their manners modest and gentle, but they have a reputation for chastity--a rare virtue amongst African natives--which inquiry led me to believe is not undeserved. They all--barring the very young unmarried girls--wear a loin cloth, mostly of some white material, and which they take a pride in keeping exquisitely clean, and this, and the custom they have of wearing pretty little white "pearl" anklets, and similar, but broader, belts of "pearls" round their wrists, necks, and waists, gives them quite a picturesque and pleasing appearance.

My first favourable impression of these charming people, however, was destined to receive rather a set-back during the course of the evening, although the incident that gave rise to it was an isolated one, and probably of quite infrequent occurrence; and in any case, of course, one has no right to generalise from a particular instance--a fault which, by the way, is far too common. We were sitting outside our hut in the cool of the evening, chatting together of home and future prospects; Hodgson, who plays the mandoline rather nicely, was strumming some old-time melody; the moon was shining as it only can shine in the tropics; and all nature seemed at peace; when there rose from the village near by a most terrific din. Women were screaming, men shouting, and children crying. Naturally we all jumped up, and ran over to see what was the matter. It proved to be a domestic row, and a pretty serious one at that. A huge native, apparently mad drunk, was beating his wife with a big, heavy stick, almost a club in fact, while a score or more of others stood round yelling to him to desist, but not caring apparently to take any active steps to compel him to do so. When we arrived upon the scene, the poor woman was lying huddled up on the ground, covered with blood, feebly moaning, and evidently too weak to even attempt to ward off the blows which her better half was still raining down upon her defenceless head. Schomburgk promptly bowled the brute over with a left-hander straight in the face. Then, having got possession of his big stick, he gave him a taste--several tastes, in fact--of his own medicine until he howled for mercy. Meanwhile I had run back to our camp for lint and bandages, and proceeded to bind up the injured woman's hurts. I never in all my life saw such a sight as the poor woman presented. He had beaten her almost to a jelly, so that her features were well-nigh indistinguishable, and on the scalp were six or seven deep wounds, extending to the bone. Her body was simply drenched--I can use no other term--in blood. To my inexperienced eyes it seemed well-nigh impossible that she could ever recover; yet such are the recuperative powers possessed by these people, that when I inquired about her not long afterwards I was informed that she was going about her household duties as usual, her head swathed in bandages, and her face all puffed up and swollen, but otherwise seemingly little the worse for the terrible punishment she had undergone. I tried to get her to tell me, before quitting Nambiri, what was the origin of the affair, but beyond saying that it was "all her own fault," I could get no explanation from her. The other women were not so reticent, however, and from what they let drop I gathered that her husband had caught her philandering with a young buck belonging to a neighbouring village. So there you are! Conjugal chastity, or the insistence upon it, has as its necessary corollary conjugal jealousy, in Konkombwaland as elsewhere.

Next day the dancers turned up. There were about two hundred of them, picked young warriors from every village within a big radius round about Nambiri; and very smart they looked, with their ebony skins set off by rows on rows of brass and copper anklets and wristlets, their quivers of poisoned arrows; and their cowrie-shell helmets, with long strings of similar shells dangling before and behind, and surmounted either by the small graceful puku horns, or occasionally by the yard-long horns of the roan antelope, worn in pairs. I had never beheld, or even conceived of, a more magnificent yet barbaric sight. Nearly every warrior carried a curious bell-like rattle, made of native iron, with which they kept up a continuous ding-dong "duotonous" tintinnabulation, each note separated by an octave, and continually repeated over and over again.

We took great pains over this film, for these Konkombwa people are exceedingly interesting from an ethnological point of view; they have hardly ever before been visited by private travellers, and most certainly have never before been photographed by a cinema camera. In the pictures we took, the tribesmen, fully arrayed in all their finery, are first seen in the act of parading for one of their big ceremonial dances. Then comes the salute, followed by the actual dance itself. The young braves rush into the circle, and perform various evolutions, the whole being instinct with life and movement. The only hitch in our arrangements, but that a sufficiently annoying one, was due to the Konkombwa women, who insisted on dancing in between with their children, thereby, of course, spoiling the film, and necessitating its being done all over again. After the dances were over, a number of warriors were photographed separately, and close up to the camera; and in order to get good studies of facial expression, we told them to talk into the machine, saying that it would take down whatever message they gave it, and that it would afterwards be heard in Europe. The result of this little manoeuvre fully came up to our expectations, each warrior as he advanced close up to the camera delivering his message to it with much energy and many gesticulations. Afterwards, I asked our interpreter what it was they had been saying. His reply was that most of the messages were of such a character that they would not bear being repeated!

After it was all over we distributed tobacco and kola nuts amongst the dancers, both of which were much appreciated, especially the nuts, which are esteemed a great delicacy by the natives, and are highly valued besides on account of their stimulating effects, and the curious property they possess of enabling a person to go without food or other refreshment for a considerable interval. These kola nuts are brought into the interior from the coast belt by the Hausa traders. They have to be carried very carefully, and must also be kept constantly damp. Their value is from a halfpenny apiece upwards, being dearer the farther north one goes. Two or three kola nuts are usually--provided he can afford them--carried by a native when he goes out hunting, or is called upon to perform any other feat of physical endurance, and one nut will enable him easily to do without food or water for at least a day. Some of the older natives, who are also well to do, and the chiefs and mallams are very partial to the nuts, chewing them all day long, much as the American girls chew gum. The result is a staining of the inside of the mouth, lips, and teeth, a dirty reddish-brown, very repulsive to look upon. I once tasted a kola nut, but found it exceedingly bitter and unpalatable.

Very early on the morning after the dance we struck camp, and started on our next stage to a place called Tschopowa. We only wanted fifty carriers, but over two hundred turned up. Schomburgk naturally objected, but the old chief explained that we need only pay on the basis of the number of loads carried; the extra carriers were going on their own initiative, and for the fun of the thing. They regarded it, in fact, in the light of a pleasure excursion, and as they all helped with the loads, which were constantly being changed voluntarily from one to the other, we got over the ground in fine style, and at a great rate. At almost every village we passed going along, too, other natives joined in, singing, shouting, and capering, so that our caravan assumed in the end a most imposing, yet barbaric appearance. As I felt somewhat indisposed, I travelled all the way by hammock, and my boys swung me along in great spirits at a five-mile-an-hour gait.

The curiosity aroused by my advent in the villages along this usually little frequented route was very great; more so, in fact, than anywhere else in Togo. Everywhere crowds of natives lined the roads to see me pass, the women "ul-ul-ulling" a wild welcome, the men capering and singing. While at the more important places, regular demonstrations of welcome were organised, as though for royalty itself. Thus, at Tschopowa, at a distance of fully three miles from the village, there awaited us a great crowd of natives, all dressed in their best. Schomburgk happened to be riding some little distance ahead at the time, and when he appeared they seemed quite disappointed, and inquired as to the whereabouts of the "White Queen" of whom they had heard so much. He pointed over his shoulder as he cantered past, intimating that "Her Majesty" would be along presently, and the reception I got when I did ride up to where they were awaiting me was almost overpowering. At most of the other larger villages it was much the same. The road used to be lined three and four deep by hundreds on hundreds of Konkombwa men, women, and children, all in gala attire, and I had to tell my boys to throw up the curtains of the hammock, so that I could sit up and smile my acknowledgments right and left, just as royalty does when it appears on a festive occasion in the streets of, say, London or Berlin. It quite made me blush for myself--and I am not ordinarily over-shy--remembering how insignificant a personage I really was. Our operator, however, was troubled by no such scruples; but getting his camera in position, he usually managed to secure any number of good pictures of the curious, unusual scenes. At Tschopowa the whole affair culminated in a big dance, given in my honour.

It was at this dance that I made an interesting, and profitable discovery. Surmounting the headdress of one of the male dancers, I noticed a bunch of black, draggled looking objects, that closer inspection showed me to be feathers. They were, however, altogether different from any other feathers I had seen the natives wearing elsewhere, and a sudden, quick, glad suspicion flashed into my mind. I darted up to the native, and greatly to his surprise snatched the plume from his headdress. One glance sufficed. "Marabou!" I shouted to Schomburgk. "Marabou feathers at last!" Would the native sell? Of course he would, and glad to. A brass rod changed hands. So, too, did the feathers.

To heat some water was the work of a few minutes. Then I rinsed the bedraggled objects in soapsuds, dried them by waving them to and fro, and a little later they emerged the most beautiful objects conceivable, soft fleecy things of snowy whiteness and exquisite purity. Yes, there could be no doubt about it; they were marabou feathers, of perfect texture, and large size. I wear them in my hat now occasionally in London and elsewhere, to the envy and admiration of my women friends; those, at least, who are not members of the Wild Birds' Protection Association.

The feathers had been left hanging up in the smoky atmosphere of the native's hut, which accounted for their black and draggled appearance. But they had suffered no permanent deterioration, and after I had washed them, they were, as I have already intimated, as good as ever. That afternoon, without saying anything to Schomburgk, who had gone out shooting, I sent for the native from whom I had bought my treasures, and told him to let it be known in the village that I would give a brass rod for every similar feather brought in. Soon the camp was alive with Konkombwa bringing marabou plumes for sale. As fast as I secured them, I rinsed them out in a big bath of soapsuds, and set the boys to work drying them. When Schomburgk returned presently he was amazed to see rows on rows of ebon-black natives engaged in gravely waving to and fro a small forest of snow-white feathers. Even his personal boy had been impressed for service, and he was inclined to grumble a little thereat in consequence. But he quickly relented, when he realised the nature of the bargain I had made. We had, at the time, a considerable store of the rods left, which we wanted to get rid of. They were worth to us about sixpence apiece, while marabou feathers are scarcely to be had for money in Europe.

The rest-house at Tschopowa is of the old square Sudan pattern, like an East African "tembe." It is beautifully situated on a little rise, whence a fine view is obtainable for miles all around. This is in the dry season, after the crops have been harvested. In the rainy season, however, when the guinea corn stands some 15 or 20 feet high, and the country is mostly under water, it cannot be at all a desirable place to stay at. Near the rest-house was one of the biggest and finest baobab trees I saw in Togo. The trunk was, I suppose, fully 60 feet in circumference, and it was certainly many hundreds, and probably some thousands, of years old. The wood of the baobab tree is of no use commercially, being so spongy that a ·303 bullet will go clean through even the biggest of them; but the bark, which is fibrous, is sometimes stripped off by the natives, and used for making ropes, and a coarse kind of cloth. The leaves are dried, and made into a powder called "lalo," which is used by West Africans as a condiment. Only the female baobab tree bears the fruit, which is the size of a small football. Inside are a lot of kernels, enclosed in an acid pulp. This is said to be a fine cure for blackwater fever, and it makes a most refreshing drink, prepared with sugar, like lemonade.

Here we had a bow-and-arrow competition, the natives shooting at marks for prizes, which caused a lot of interest and excitement. One warrior greatly amused us by putting in an appearance in a sort of George Robey hat, stuck full of feathers. No doubt he considered it the very latest thing in head-dresses. We stayed at Tschopowa two days, while Schomburgk and Hodgson went out to the Oti and filmed some pictures of hippopotami. We also secured pictures of some enormous corn-bins of curious construction. They are round, as big as a good-sized house, and stand on three legs, with a covered-in top. When full some of them will hold several tons of corn. These bins, built after this fashion, are peculiar to the Konkombwa people.

In the evening we discovered that the baobab tree mentioned above was full of bats; thousands on thousands of them. Our horse boys from Sokode killed some scores of them with sticks, spitted them on small skewers, and roasted them, esteeming them apparently as a great delicacy. They brought me some on a stick, and laughed when I turned away shuddering. I am a great favourite, by the way, with our boys. When they transgress in any way, and Schomburgk, sitting in judgment, condemns them to be fined or otherwise punished, they always come and ask me to intercede with him for them. This I invariably do--unless it is a very flagrant case--and Schomburgk, glad of an excuse to let them off, will then remit the punishment, saying carelessly: "Oh, all right if Puss says so"; or, "Now mind and don't let it happen again, and remember you've got Puss to thank for this."

It was here that I saw one of the most beautiful white cocks I ever set eyes on, riding on a donkey-load of stuff belonging to a Hausa trader. I had seen similar cocks before in Mangu, and elsewhere, but never so fine a one as this. These birds are carried all over Togoland by these peripatetic pedlars, in order that they may arouse their owners in good time in the morning by their crowing. They are, in fact, living alarum clocks, a lusty, loud crower being greatly valued.