CHAPTER XXIV
NATIVE DISEASES AND THEIR TREATMENT
White and black magic—Albinos—Causes of disease—Those easy to diagnose—Non-professional healers—Discovering a troublesome spirit—Various remedies—Cupping—The clyster—Ligatures for snake-bites—Snake-men—Rubbing things out of a patient—Ignorance of physiology—White man’s difficulty—Dangers of buffalo-hunting—Ravages of crocodiles—Escaping crocodiles.
The medicine man’s white magic, i.e. those means employed for curing the people of their mental and bodily ailments, may, to us, seem foolish and inadequate, but there is nothing to condemn in its practice except that it often deceives the people. Whether the medicine man deceives himself—believes in himself or not—is another matter.
Undoubtedly, through generations of inherited knowledge concerning herbs, etc., they possess some remedies that do their patients good; and there are many faith cures—the results of an implicit belief in the medicine man and the means he uses. I have noticed that the Congo medicine man cures just that class of ailments that the different branches of “faith healers” cure in Europe and America.
The Congo system of _white magic_ is founded on quackery, but like quackery in other parts of the world the remedy sometimes meets the disease, and such successes are remembered and talked about, while the many failures are forgotten. _Black magic_, i.e. those means employed for inflicting pain, misfortune, and death on an enemy, is to be found in all parts of the Congo. Although _black magic_ is so widely practised, yet it is condemned by the natives in as strong language as that used by the white man. Every native condemns it in everybody else, and excuses it in himself. Those who practise it must do so in secret, or the hatred of the village and the district will fall upon them.
In the Appendix will be found a fairly complete list[42] of the diseases from which the people suffer. In addition to the complaints there mentioned, the natives suffer from stomachache, toothache, soreness of gums, sympathetic buboes, ulcers caused by jiggers (chigoes), etc., the children from wind, teething, convulsions, etc.
Footnote 42:
See Appendix, Note 5, page 345.
There are rare cases of albinos (_yeme_), and they are regarded with respect, and although they marry, yet there are many women who, through fear, refuse to have them. The skin is a dirty white with a distinct tint of pink in it. The hair is curly and very light, with a glint of red, and the eyes are red and intolerant of light. Albinos are somewhat repulsive looking, and one is glad to turn the eyes quickly in another direction. Those I have seen were men, well-developed and healthy looking, except that the skin had a pimply rash on it, which may have been due to the strong rays of the sun on a delicate skin. They suffer considerably from the direct rays of the sun on their skin, probably as much as a white man would suffer who had to go about in tropical Africa in a nude condition.
Among the people there are cases of auburn hair, but the eyes are not different from those of other people. With the exception of supernumerary toes and fingers, the deformities I have seen have been due to disease. People with a sore on the under part of the heel often walk on the toes, or side of the foot, so long that at last they are unable to walk properly.
The Boloki attribute diseases to several causes, such as broken taboos, curses, witchcraft, to disembodied spirits (_mingoli_), to the spirits of disease (_mēte_), i.e. those spirits that give individual complaints, to those spirits (_mieta_) that give family complaints or epidemics, and to the spirit (_ejo_) of wealth, which inflicts severe diseases, and when the sufferer dies he (or she) is regarded as taken by this spirit, or, as sacrificed to the spirit of wealth.
The general name for medicine is _mono_, and it may mean a daub of simple pigment on the affected part, a poultice of leaves, or a complicated concoction that has taken a long time to prepare and some thought to arrange.
It will be seen from a study of their diseases that they fall into two classes: (1) Those of which the symptoms are observable and easily diagnosed, as diarrhœa, insanity, etc.; and (2) Those of which the symptoms are difficult to diagnose, as great debility, sleeping-sickness, etc. The former are regarded as simple sicknesses, called _bokono_; but the latter are put to the credit of the various spirits, or to the malignant influence of witchcraft. When the sickness is simple (_bokono_), herbs are employed, medicines prepared, and taboos imposed on the patient; when, however, the illness is caused by one or other of the spirits, then a medicine man whose work it is to deal with that particular spirit is called. The functions of the various witch-doctors have already been described, and also of the spirits that either send or impart diseases. Some sicknesses are especially regarded as the result of breaking a covenant and falling under the curse that follows, as dysentery; or as the result of a broken treaty, as wounds and death in a fight; or as the consequences of a wife’s unfaithfulness while the husband is away at a fight, as severe wounds.
During my residence among the Boloki, although many folk submitted to the ordeal for various reasons, and among others for bewitching people, yet I heard of only one or two taking it for bewitching a person to death. The verdict generally given by the witch-doctor is: He died by his own witchcraft while trying to bewitch someone else. And many a time I have heard the friends of the deceased protest against this charge—for they considered it an insult to the memory of their departed friend—and insist that he died “by an act of God.”
In simple complaints medicines are prepared from herbs for inward and outward applications, fomentations are applied, and massage is employed, and in many cases charms and amulets are supplied to the patient. In the more serious kinds of illness, as smallpox, dropsy, etc., a person who has recovered from the sickness very often sets up as a healer of the same—for who knows better how to cure an illness than he (or she) who has had it?
These healers of specific diseases are not witch-doctors, nor are they, by the natives, respected as such; and if they fail to cure, the patient is removed to a medicine man as the last resort. The fees of the former are as moderate as a quack doctor’s compared with the fees of a professional man. Of these healers there is a large number, and it is impossible to give an outline of their practices, for each follows his (or her) own method, and tries to keep that method a secret; and even when fomentations or herb decoctions are used, the ingredients are known only to the compounder. Simple massage is a favourite operation, and seems to be much enjoyed by the patients; and its curative qualities are not placed to the credit of friction, warmth, or magnetism, but to the fetish power of the rubber.
As stated above, most of the diseases in the list are regarded as _bokono_ = simple sickness, illness, complaint; and it is only when they do not yield to ordinary, simple treatment that they are viewed more seriously as the result of witchcraft, or possession by one or other of the spirits, e.g. an ulcer shows itself, and is treated with fomentations, etc., but it happens that the ulcer spreads and drains the strength of the patient; a medicine man is called in, and the cause sought for either in witchcraft, the breaking of a taboo, the operation of a curse, or in the malignant action of a spirit. The complaints called debility, sleeping-sickness, very bad rheumatism, ague fever, or boils, are supposed to originate in one of these ways, and it is the object of the medicine man to discover in which way, in order to use the right means.
The witch-doctor beats his drum near the patient, talks excitedly, chants various phrases, the sense of which the people often do not understand, but the lilt of the metre, together with the rhythm of the drum, causes the patient to sway to and fro and has an hypnotic effect on him.
When he is worked up to the right pitch the medicine man asks him: “Have you eaten anything?” i.e. Have you broken a taboo? The patient takes no notice.
“Have you done anything?” i.e. Have you broken a covenant and so come under a curse? is the next question, but the man takes no notice.
“Are you bewitched?” or, “Are you bewitching anybody?” To these questions no answer is given.
“Have you a spirit (_bwete_)?” The patient jerks and twitches his body, beats his arms, and sways more vigorously, and thus it is known that the sufferer is possessed by a certain kind of spirit.
The next thing is to discover whether the spirit is that of debility, sleeping-sickness, etc., and that point being decided by the jerking of the patient’s body as the questions are put to him, the medicine man proceeds to make the necessary charms and put the man under the proper taboos. The whole of this ceremony of diagnosing a patient’s case is called _mobalu_.
There are modifications of this ceremony in which only rattles are used, and not drums, and many women sing and shake rattles round the patient, who lies in the middle of the ring, well anointed with oil; or there may be only a few present, and the drum is beaten and the patient taken inside a mat enclosure with the medicine man, but the principle is the same.
The following are some of the remedies employed: _Kuta_ is to heal quickly the cuts of a badly wounded man by placing him on a shelf and lighting a fire under him, so that the smoke enters the wounds. _Ngele_ are leaves for drawing boils and abscesses to a head. _Moteba_ leaves are boiled and rubbed on a person suffering from sleeping-sickness. _Longele_ = a brass rod; some medicine is tied to a brass rod, and it is then worn to strengthen the arm or the leg—some wear it for rheumatism. _Makulu matuki_ leaves are good for sores and wounds, and the juice of the leaves is dropped into sore eyes to heal them; and some eat the leaves to induce pregnancy. _Makalala_ are small sticks of powerful “medicine” for soothing the violently mad. There is a word, _yengola_, which means to kill or drown a person who is too ill to recover.
Cupping (_nyunya_) is often practised. Sometimes it is simple bleeding by snicking the part affected, and at other times it is cupping proper with horn and suction. The part to be benefited is cut with a knife, and the large bottom end of a horn, which has a hole at the small upper end, is put over the cuts. The operator puts a pill of clay or soft wax into his mouth, sucks at the hole, and with his tongue puts the wax pellet over it. This he repeats until the air in the horn is exhausted, and then the blood will run freely from the cuts.
The clyster (called _njango_) is used for relieving pains in the stomach. A calabash is filled with water in which some herbs have been boiled. The patient lies on his stomach and a reed is inserted, and the liquid in the calabash is poured into the reed; but sometimes they use a calabash with a very long neck, and this is inserted, and the liquid allowed to gravitate into the bowels.
Ligatures are tied—one above and the other below the wound—for a snake-bite, some bitter plant (_bololo_) is given to the bitten person to chew. A medicine man also “scrapes the wound to remove the teeth left by the snake.” There are persons, and even families, who handle snakes with impunity, and these are supposed to possess snake medicine. Such a person is called if the patient is suffering severely from a snake’s bite, and on his arrival he and the bitten person clasp each other’s right wrist, and the snake-man will beat the other’s arm to drive the poison (_ngenge_) from him into himself. I have never heard of a death from a snake-bite, but I have seen nervous people very much scared after being bitten by a snake.
There is another mode of curing a sick person called _bowa_. The patient lies on his back and the medicine man, taking a saucepan of boiling water, kneels by the side of his patient. He shakes some leaves over him, dips his hand into the water, rubs the stomach of the sick one, and in a short time shows a palm nut, as having come from the patient. This performance is repeated again and again, and each time a palm nut, or a stone, or a piece of iron is shown as coming from the patient, and is taken as evidence that the sickness is being expelled.
Natives endure the heat much better than the cold. The palm-oil and red camwood powder used so freely as a cosmetic protect their bodies from the direct rays of the sun, and are also, I believe, a protection from the cold air and light showers of rain; but a really cold, sunless day seems to crumple them up, and they lose all energy. Blood-poisoning is very rare, and wounds from knives and spears heal rapidly.
The natives are practically ignorant of physiology, and their firm belief for generations that diseases are due to witchcraft and evil spirits has kept them from making any progress in the study of that science. I remember many years ago a man coming to me complaining of an acute pain in his side, which he regarded as the presence of an evil spirit in him. After due consideration I thought it was probably due to a touch of pleurisy, and administered a flying blister (a lotion applied with a feather) to the place, and told him to go to bed. Early next morning the man came hurrying to me, and pointing to the blister that had come up in the night, he said: “White man, look where the evil spirit has come out.” He thought that as all pain had gone, and there was a blister over the place where it had been, the evil spirit had come out there, and the blister was the result of its exit.
One of the greatest difficulties we encounter on the Congo is that of diagnosing a disease. The natives have never been in the habit of describing their symptoms, consequently when we commence medical work in any new district we are at a great disadvantage, and it takes long training before the people will clearly state the nature of their pains, or anything that will really help us to diagnose their complaints. While in the language we find the names of a large number of diseases, yet it is very poor in words describing symptoms, and this paucity of symptom-words arises from the fact that for centuries the witch-doctors, in their own interests, have fostered the belief that complaints are caused by evil spirits which they alone can drive out of them. Not only is there this lack of words describing symptoms, but there is a reticence on the part of the patient to explain his pain, etc., as he thinks that the “doctor” who has any pretension to healing a person should certainly be able to discover what is wrong. Their witch-doctors do not closely question their patients, but at once proceed to the cure; why, therefore, should the white man make so many inquiries?
On the Lower Congo we have a large number of gun accidents. The cheap, common guns, the barrels of which are usually made out of old gas-pipes, frequently explode and do much damage to the firer. Occasionally during the hunting season one hunter mistakes the rustling in the grass made by another hunter as the movements of an animal, and fires in the direction of the noise, only to find, when too late, that he has wounded a fellow-hunter. Very often when crawling through the grass after game the hammer of the gun catches in the grass, and in pulling it free the gun goes off, and the man behind receives the full charge into his body, and the lifeless corpse is carried back to the town; or, if severely wounded and not dead, the man is brought to us for treatment.
Both on the Lower Congo and the Upper there are serious accidents from buffalo-hunting—more to be dreaded than leopard-hunting. One case brought to us on the Upper Congo was that of a man who had fired at a buffalo which took refuge in a clump of trees. He thought, after waiting a time, that he had killed it, but on venturing to investigate too closely the infuriated, wounded animal came out at him and tossed and tumbled him about in its rage as a cat does a mouse. It was at last frightened away by the hunter’s companions, and when they brought him to us it took me nearly an hour and a half to sew him up and bandage his many wounds—he querulous and abusive all the time, complaining that I was giving him more pain than the buffalo did. He, however, made a good recovery and was duly grateful.
On the Upper Congo the crocodiles inflict the greatest damage on the natives. Here is a canoe with a few folk paddling quietly along, when a crocodile shoots up by its side so suddenly that the occupants are startled, and leaning too much to one side to get as far as possible from the ravenous jaws, they upset the canoe, the brute takes one and goes off. There is much wailing, a charge of witchcraft, and perhaps another death is the result.
A considerable amount of fishing is done by the women in the shallow waters, and while they are thus busily occupied the crocodile has its opportunity. I have often met women who have asked me for medicine for wounds on their legs, and on looking at them I frequently found that the wounds were teeth marks. On inquiring how they came by them, their answers, generally given nonchalantly, were always the same: “A crocodile caught me by the leg while I was fishing.”
“How did you escape from the creature?” would be my next question.
“Oh, I rammed my thumbs into its eyes,” was the invariable reply, “and it let me go, and I was able to escape.” And suiting the action to her words the woman would turn round and show me how it was done. It needed great presence of mind, and undoubtedly those who did not possess it were carried off; and those also who were caught in such a way that it was impossible for them to turn, were dragged under water, drowned, and eaten at leisure.
One morning a woman left Monsembe in a small canoe to fish on the shallow bank of a neighbouring island. As she had not returned by sunset about twenty men came to borrow our large canoe that they might go in search of her. About 9 p.m. they returned, and by their shouts in the distance we learned that they had found the missing woman. On landing her we discovered that she was severely wounded with crocodile bites—the worst case I had ever seen. We set to work to clean the wounds, and sewing up some we bandaged her and left her as comfortable as we could for the night. We afterwards heard the story of her adventures.
It appears that while fishing she saw a crocodile coming for her, so she ran for a tree, and as she climbed the brute raised itself and snapped at her, tearing her fingers, her thighs, and legs, but not getting a sufficient grip of her to pull her down. There she sat, wounded, bleeding, and faint with hunger and loss of blood, through the long day, with the crocodile lying in wait at the foot of the tree. Occasionally she cried out, but there was no one near enough to hear her shouts. She at last heard the paddles of the canoe and the calls of the men, and, responding to them, she guided them to the tree where she was sitting. As the men neared the tree they heard the splashing of the water as the brute made off in the darkness. She fully recovered, and after a time seemed none the worse for her painful experience.
At Boma I saw the skin of a crocodile that measured 25 feet long. The trader who killed it showed me twenty-two brass armlets and anklets, weighing 11½ lbs., that had been taken from its stomach, a proof that in the course of its life it had killed and eaten several people. But there are times when the laugh is on the other side. A colleague of mine fired from a steamer at a crocodile that apparently was asleep on the sandy bank of the river. The bullet struck the head, and as the beast did not move everybody thought it was killed. Some of the steamer’s crew jumped into the water, swam ashore, and just as they caught hold of the tail to turn the creature over preparatory to cutting it up, the crocodile regained consciousness (for it had only been stunned by the bullet grazing the top of the head) and started for the river. Such a tug-of-war was never witnessed before—there was the crocodile struggling to gain the water and some men hauling it back by the tail, while others, quickly procuring some chunks of wood, were beating the reptile’s back to break it. The men won the contest, and that night feasted on their enemy the crocodile.
At all our stations we have good dispensaries, and at some, well-equipped hospitals; and we do our best to alleviate suffering and save life. As non-medical missionaries we can always comfort ourselves with the thought that what we do medically for the natives is far better than they can do for themselves, or have done for them by their medicine men. We are glad, however, to say that we have now three fully qualified doctors in our Mission, whose up-to-date scientific knowledge, joined to their kindly sympathy with the natives, is doing much to relieve pain and save life. Our only regret is that we have not a doctor on every station.[43]
Footnote 43:
See Appendix, Note 6, page 346, for statistics of white people’s health.
APPENDIX
NOTE 1.—ON YEASTS OR FERMENTS
_Bread-making_
On the Lower Congo, where palm-wine was easily procurable, I have often made bread by using one tumbler of palm-wine to one of lukewarm water, with some sugar to counteract the sourness or acidity of the wine, and salt to taste. This was mixed with flour into a dough about 8 a.m., divided into two lumps, put into two well-floured or greased tins, and placed out in the sun to rise, with a cloth over them to keep away dust and dirt. About 11 or 12 o’clock the loaves would have risen well, and were ready for baking.
If palm-wine can be bought regularly, then it can be used for every batch of bread; but if the supply is doubtful, or very irregular, then a knob of the dough—about the size of an egg—should be taken from the dough before it is divided into loaves, put into a mug, covered and placed on one side. This lump of dough will rise, and in two or three days, when the next batch of bread is required, it can be thoroughly mixed with a pint of warm water, a tablespoonful of sugar, some salt (and, if you have it, a pinch of bicarbonate of soda), and the process is completed, and with this yeast you can make the bread as though using fresh palm-wine.
At Monsembe, however, there was no palm-wine, but plenty of sugar-cane wine, so we used that with very good results. Sugar-cane wine should be strained through a fine cloth before using, otherwise the fibres left in the wine will irritate the stomach and give rise to serious consequences.
The following, however, is the most satisfactory leaven that has yet been discovered on the Congo, where it is becoming a general favourite, and is fast ousting palm-wine as a leaven: Take a pint bottle and put into it two tablespoonfuls of flour, one tablespoonful of castor sugar (or its equivalent in lump sugar), a teaspoonful of salt, nearly fill the bottle with warm water, thoroughly shake until well mixed, lightly cork, and stand it in a warm corner of the house. Occasionally stir the mixture, and on the fourth or fifth day it will sing with fermentation.
I found the following the best method for making bread with this leaven: When the contents of the bottle were singing with fermentation I took the bottle in the evening (about 5 or 6 o’clock), and, well stirring the fermenting mixture, poured it into a wash-hand basin, leaving at the bottom of the bottle some of the liquid—about two fingers deep. Into the basin was then put a half-pint of lukewarm water, a small teaspoonful of salt, and two lumps of sugar; the cook boy thoroughly stirred into this mixture some flour to the consistency of a batter. He generally beat the batter for ten or fifteen minutes—the more it is beaten the lighter will be the bread. A towel was spread over the basin, and it was put away in the cupboard.
I then took the bottle, measured into it flour, sugar, salt, and warm water as before, shook it well, and put it back in its place. On account of having left in the bottle a little of the old leaven the new preparation would be ready in two days, and it should be used then, or not later than the third day. A family of two or three persons will soon find how much bread they need for two days and can add more or less water to the leaven poured into the basin.
It will be found next morning that the batter or sponge put away in the cupboard has almost filled the basin with a fine dough. To this sponge add flour, well knead it into a medium stiff dough, put in two tins, place out in the sun (or if a cloudy day stand near the kitchen fire), drop a thin cloth over the tins to keep dust away, and in three or four hours the dough will be well risen, and then bake. This always gave us splendidly light bread. An occasional pinch of bicarbonate of soda dropped into the bottle will neutralize acidity. A good, neutral bread is a great boon, and helps to keep one in good health.
NOTE 2.—ON BOLOKI VERB
The verb in the Boloki language has the eight following forms: Active, Passive, Stative, Causative, Prepositional, Reciprocal, Reflexive, and Repetitive.
Active kanga = to tie.
Passive kangama = to be tied.
Stative kangwa = to be in a tied state.
Causative kangija = to cause to tie.
Prepositional kangela = to tie for or with.
Reciprocal kangana = to tie one another.
Reflexive _mikanga_ = to tie oneself.
Repetitive _kangelela_ = to tie again and again.
The moods of the verb are: Infinitive, Imperative, Indicative, Subjunctive, and Purportive.
Infinitive mood is made by prefixing _lo_ to the verb: _najingi lokanga_ = I desire to tie.
The imperative is _kanga_, and a more emphatic form _kangaka_ = tie. The imperative hortative is formed by _leme_ = let, followed by the present subjunctive, as _leme nakanga_ = let me tie.
The indicative is _nakanga_ = I tie.
The subjunctive, (_te_) _nakanga_ = (that) I may tie.
The purportive, _naye nokakanga_ = I am come to tie.
The tenses are as follows:
Indicative pres. _nakanga_ = I tie indefinitive
Indicative pres. _nakakanga_ = I am tying. indefinitive continuous
Indicative pres. perfect _nakangi_ = I have tied.
Indicative pres. perfect _nakakangi_ = I have been continuous tying.
Indicative past _nakangiki_ = I tied. indefinite
Indicative past _nakakangiki_ = I was indefinite continuous tying.
Indicative past perfect _nakangaka_ = I had tied.
Indicative past perfect _nakakangaka_ = I had continuous been tying.
The past imperfect and progressive tenses made with the aid of the verb “to be” are as follows:
_Nabeki nakangi_ = I tied in time near past. _Nabeki nakakangi_ = I was tying in time near past. _Nabaka nakangi_ = I tied in time far past. _Nabaka nakakangi_ = I was tying in time far past.
Indicative future _naakakangi_ = I shall indefinite tie.
Indicative future _naakakanga_ = I shall be indefinite continuous tying.
Indicative future _naakakangaka_ = I shall perfect have been tying.
Indicative future _naikakanga_ = I am just immediate about to tie.
Narrative tense _ekangele_ = I tied.
Narrative tense _ekakangele_ = I was continuous tying.
There are only three conjugations to be found, and these are formed on the final vowel of the root:
SIMPLE VERB. PERFECT. PASSIVE. _kanga_ _kangaka_ _kangama_ _bete_ _beteke_ _beteme_ _kolo_ _koloko_ _kolomo_
It will be interesting to the reader, before closing this very short note on the verb, for me to give an idea of the number of verbs that can be built up on a single verb by the aid of affixes which can all run through the various tenses already mentioned. The seven given in the first paragraph of this note are not repeated here:
Active transitive. _Kanga_ = to tie.
Passive and prepositional. _Kangemela_ = to be tied for (a purpose).
Passive and causative. _Kangimija_ = to cause to be tied.
Passive, prepositional, and causative. _Kangemelija_ = to cause to be tied for (a purpose).
Active, reciprocal, and prepositional. _Kangenela_ = to tie one another for (a purpose).
Active, reciprocal, prepositional, and causative. _Kangenelija_ = to cause to tie one another for (a purpose).
There are many other combinations in use, but these twelve will give some idea of the possibilities of the verb and its prefixes and suffixes. It will be noted that although the passive of _kanga_ is _kangama_, yet in the above examples the vowels sometimes become _e_ and sometimes _i_, this is because the vowel _e_ in _ela_ (see first example, the passive and prepositional form given in the preceding paragraph) changes the final _a_ of _kangama_ into _e_ as _kangamela_, and has a retro-active force in turning the initial _a_ of the passive suffix also into _e_; _kangama_ is really _kangaama_, but as one _a_ elides another it becomes _kangama_, and _kangemela_ is really _kangamaela_, but _a_ elides before _e_, so it becomes _kangamela_, and the _e_ in the penultimate demands that the other _a_ of the suffix should become _e_ also, hence we have _kangemela_. The same euphonic law demands that _kanga-ama-ija_ should become _kangimija_, and _kanga-ana-ela_ should become _kangenela_.
There is also an intensive form of the verb that is best expressed in English by a suitable adverb:
_Kata_ = to hold; _katatala_ = to hold tightly; and this has a causative _Katitija_ = to cause to hold tightly.
_Kana_ = to push in; _kanalala_ = to be pushed in too much, _kaninija_ = to cause to go in too far.
_Ama_ = to press; _amamala_ = to be pressed too far: _amimija_ = to cause to be pressed too much.
_Tamba_ = to stand out; _tambambala_ = to be standing out conspicuously, and the causative _tambimbija_ = to cause to stand out well in sight.
In the above are very good examples of what I call, for the lack of a better word, the retro-active power of their euphonic laws for harmonizing the vowels.
By the aid of so plastic a verb we had no difficulty in expressing the finest shades of meaning in the New Testament—a part of which is translated into the Boloki language—and in translating other books for the benefit of the natives.
NOTE 3.—ON BOLOKI METHOD OF COUNTING
The numerals from 1 to 5 are declinable. The letter in brackets is the particle that changes according to the class of the noun used, e.g. two persons would be _batu_ (_ba_) _bale_ = persons two but two cloths would be _bilamba_ (_bi_) _bale_ = cloths two.
The numerals are: 1, (_y_) _awi_; 2, (_i_) _bale_; 3, (_i_) _atu_; 4, (_i_) _ne_; 5, (_i_) _tanu_; 6, _motoba_; 7, _nsambu_; 8, _mwambi_; 9, _libwa_; 10, _jumu_ or _mokangu mwawi_ = one tying; 11, _jumu_ _na_ (_y_) _awi_; 12, _jumu na_ (_i_) _bale_; 20, _mikangu mibale_; 30, _mikangu miatu_; 40, _mikangu mine_; 50, _mikangu mitanu_; 60, _mikangu motoba_; 70, _mikangu nsambu_; 80, _mikangu mwambi_; 90, _mikangu libwa_; 100, _nkama_ or _munkama_; 200, _minkama mibale_; 1000, _nkutu yawi_; 2000, _nkutu ibale_; 10,000, _mokoko_; 20,000, _mikoko mibale_.
The meaning of _mikangu mibale_ (20) is, two tyings. 10 is often called _mokangu mwawi_ = one tying, from _kanga_ = to tie. It is the custom of the natives to roll their 15-inch brass rods (the currency) into a series of rings about 1½ inches in diameter, and these they run one on another, like split rings, until there are ten linked together, and they call that _mokangu mwawi_ = one tying = 10.
The ordinal numerals are:
_Motu wa bo_ = The person who is first, or the first person.
_Motu wa bane_ = The person who is four, or the fourth person.
_Motu wa motoba_ = The person who is six, or the sixth person.
_Motu wa libwa_ = the person who is nine, or the ninth person.
_Motu wa mikangu mibale na wawi_ = twenty-first person.
To use a word of another class we will take _elamba_ = cloth.
_Elamba ya bo_ = the cloth that is one, or the first cloth.
_Elamba ya bine_ = the cloth that is four or the fourth cloth.
_Elamba ya motoba_ = the cloth that is six or the sixth cloth.
_Elamba ya mikangu miatu na bibale_ the cloth that is thirty and two, = or the 32nd cloth.
The fingers are constantly used in counting. If a man wants to say thirty-four he will say _mikangu_ (= tyings = tens) and hold up three fingers for those to whom he is speaking to say _miatu_ (= three), _na_ = and, hold up four fingers for them to say (_i_) _ne_ (= four). The letter in brackets changes according to the class of the noun understood. By this means they ensure their hearers following and understanding them, and no one can afterwards plead that they did not hear the price properly, as any discrepancy between the number mentioned by the hearers and the number of fingers held up would be corrected at the time.
The way in which the Boloki folk use their fingers is somewhat irregular, and for the sake of clearness I draw two hands and number the fingers 1 to 10—1 to 5 left hand, and 6 to 10 right hand. 1 and 10 are the thumbs. The right hand is used more than the left.
_One_ is expressed by doubling 6, 7, 8, and putting 10 over them, thus leaving 9, the index finger, standing alone.
_Two_, by doubling down 6 and 7 and putting 10 over them, thus leaving 8 and 9 standing.
_Three_, by doubling down 9 and putting 10 over it, leaving 6, 7, and 8 standing.
_Four_, by putting 10 at the bottom of the division between 7 and 8, that causes 6 and 7 to come forward a little, so the hand is turned about that the two sets of two fingers may be clearly seen.
_Five_, the whole of the fingers of the right hand are left standing with the palm turned towards the person to whom you are speaking.
_Six_, by doubling down 2 on the left hand and putting 1 over it, so leaving 3, 4, and 5 standing, and doubling down 9 on the right hand and putting 10 over it, so leaving 6, 7, and 8 standing, thus making two sets of three fingers.
_Seven_, the same as 4 with the right hand and doubling down 2 on the left hand and putting 1 over it, thus making a 4 and a 3.
_Eight_, by working the right hand as under 4 and putting 1 at the bottom of the division between 3 and 4, and twisting the hands about so that the four sets of two fingers may be clearly seen.
_Nine_, by holding up the fingers of the right hand as under 5 and putting 1 at the division between 3 and 4, and twisting the left hand about to show the two sets of two fingers.
_Ten_, by holding all the fingers of the two hands with the palms towards the auditors, and every folding down of the fingers and re-spreading of them means another 10. _Second way_—by clapping the hands together, and every clap stands for 10. _Third_, and more frequent method—by holding out the fist of the right hand, and every decided shake of the fist stands for ten.
_Eleven_, by shaking the right fist and holding up one finger as described under one.
_Twelve_, by shaking the right fist and holding up two fingers as described under two; and so on.
The toes are very rarely used in counting. I have only seen them used when counting 20,000, and then the man stretched down and put the fingers of both hands on the toes of both of his feet and said: _mikoko mibale_ = 20,000. Sometimes, when trying to give me an idea of vast numbers, they would say: “It will take all our fingers and toes to tell you,” i.e. tens of thousands.
For addition and subtraction under 10 they use their fingers, but for higher numbers they use palm nuts, or anything suitable to hand. This is not because they are incapable of adding and subtracting mentally, but because they are so suspicious of each other that they want an ocular proof that the sum is right, and that neither one is getting the better of the other. Those who know figures and can run through their arithmetical tables accept each other’s sums, but in transactions with the untaught they resort to the fingers and palm nuts for counting.
They always count by fives and tens, e.g. if a person wants to make up 26 brass rods he will take 3 rods and then put 2 with the 3 and push that 5 on one side, he will make another 5 in the same way, and then put the two fives together, making 10, and then make two more fives and put those together, keeping, however, the tens separate, then another 5 is made by the 3 and 2 process, and at last 1 put down. Then the two tens are counted, and the 5, and lastly the 1.
NOTE 4.—ON BOLOKI RELATIONS OR KINSHIP
The accompanying lists I received about the same time from two different young men of fair intelligence, and after I had written the two lists down I called both the young men and read over to them their different names for the same relative. They each argued that what they had given was the right one, and the other was wrong. I have found the same difficulty on the Lower Congo. It is impossible to procure a list of any real value. My colleagues find it much the same among other tribes.
The natives of Monsembe are unanimous respecting the terms for mother = _nyongo_; father = _ango_ and _tata_ (_ango_ is only used by a son to the one who begot him, _tata_ is used by a slave to his master, by a son to his father, and I have heard it used by a mother to her son. It seems to be a term of respect in its wider use); brother = _nkaja_; sister is also _nkaja_ (a sister calls her brother _nkaja_, and a brother calls his sister _nkaja_; but if a girl speaks of her younger sister, or elder sister, she uses the words _mojimi_ for the younger one and _motomolo_ for the elder only; the boy uses the same words for younger or elder brother); younger sister or younger brother, _nkaja mojimi_; elder sister or elder brother, _nkaja motomolo_ (_nkaja_ is never used in speaking of the same sex as the speaker, i.e. by a sister of a sister, or a brother of a brother); wife = _mwali_; husband = _moloi_; child = _mwana_; male child = _mwana lele_, i.e. son; female child = _mwana muntaka_, i.e. daughter; grandparent = _nkoko_; great grandparent = _nkokolele_; great great grandparent = _ndalola_; but a grandchild is _nkoko_, and so with a great grandchild = _nkokolele_, and great great grandchild = _ndalola_.
All agree in the above names for the relationships indicated, but the farther you get away from those degrees of relationship the more confused the native becomes, and the more contradictory will be his statements. The terms of relationship are employed in addressing each other, but personal names are also used without any hesitation. The only exception is this: When two persons of the same name speak to or of one another they never mention the name, but say, _ndoi_ = namesake. The names of the dead are freely mentioned, and even passed on to children. No genealogies are kept, and in two or three generations all ties of near relationship are lost; and if, here and there, remembered, are non-effective except where a man can get a drink of sugar-cane wine, or a feed by recalling kinship.
LIST OF WORDS FOR RELATIVES
─────────────────────────┬─────────────────┬────────────────────── ENGLISH │ WORDS GIVEN BY │ WORDS GIVEN BY │ LUTOBA │ INTONGI ─────────────────────────┼─────────────────┼────────────────────── Mother’s brother │_mojika_ │_mojika_ and _nso │ │ mama_[44] Mother’s brother’s son │_nso nyango_[45] │No name, but takes │ │ name of _mojika_ on │ │ his father’s death Mother’s brother’s son’s │_nso nyango_ │Called by personal son │ │ name until death of │ │ father and then │ │ _mojika_ Mother’s brother’s son’s │_nkaja_ │No distinctive name daughter │ │ Mother’s sister │_mama_ │_mama moti_[46] Mother’s sister’s son or │_mojimi_ or │No distinctive name daughter │ _nkaja_ │ Mother’s sister’s son’s │_mojimi_ or │No distinctive name son │ _nkaja_ │ Mother’s sister’s son’s │_mojimi_ or │No distinctive name daughter │ _nkaja_ │ Father’s sister │_tamwalimoto_ │_tamwalimoto_ Father’s sister’s son │_bola_ │_mwana wa │ │ tamwalimoto_[47] Father’s sister’s │_nkaja_ │_mwana wa tamwalimoto_ daughter │ │ Father’s sister’s son’s │_wa mwa │No distinctive name son │ nyango_[48] │ Father’s sister’s son’s │_nkaja_ │No distinctive name daughter │ │ Father’s brother │_tata_ │[49]_ta mungwende_, or │ │ on his father’s │ │ death he is called │ │ _tata_ or _tata │ │ elenge_[50] Father’s brother’s son │_mojimi_ │No distinctive name Father’s brother’s │_nkaja_ │No distinctive name daughter │ │ Father’s brother’s son’s │_mojimi_ │No distinctive name son │ │ Father’s brother’s son’s │_nkaja_ │No distinctive name daughter │ │ Brother’s child │_mwana_ │_mwana_ Brother’s child’s child │_mwana_ │_mwana_ Grandfather, grandmother,│_nkoko_ │_nkoko_ grandchild │ │ Great grandfather, great │_nkokolele_ │_nkokolele_ grandmother, great │ │ grandchild │ │ Great great grandfather, │_ndalola_ │_ndalola_ great great │ │ grandmother, great │ │ great grandchild │ │ ─────────────────────────┴─────────────────┴──────────────────────
Footnote 44:
_nso mama_ and
Footnote 45:
_nso nyango_ are practically the same, as the second word in each phrase means mother, and _nso_ = bowels; and the idea is: the one who comes from the same womb as my mother; the word _nso_ is only used of maternal relatives.
Footnote 46:
_mama moti_ = the little mother.
Footnote 47:
_mwana wa tamwalimoto_ = child of _tamwalimoto_.
Footnote 48:
_wa mwa nyango_ = of or from the little mother; _mwa_ is the diminutive particle.
Footnote 49:
_ta mungwende_ = one who stands in place of another.
Footnote 50:
_tata elenge_ = young or boy father.
_Mama_ is not an introduced word, as we found it in full use on our arrival; and although it was often used about one’s own mother, yet it had the same meaning, as applied to a female relative, mistress, or mother, that _tata_ has to a male relative, master or father.
By “no distinctive name,” I mean no term indicative of relationship. They were known by their personal name only.
NOTE 5.—ON NATIVE DISEASES
_List of Native Diseases and their Native Names_
1. Scrotal hernia, _liboke_ denotes an early stage, and the word also means a parcel, bundle; _benda_ is a later stage when the hernia is large; and _likuku_ the last stage when the hernia reaches the knees. I have seen two or three examples of the last stage.
2. Paralysis from sickness, _boboku_. I never saw a case of this.
3. Smallpox, _kokotu_. We had an epidemic of this disease in 1893. Some people died, and others carry the marks to this day.
4. Bad diarrhœa, _bolete_, is supposed to be the result of a curse.
5. Bleeding at the nose from any cause, _bolongo_.
6. Insanity, _bomwa_; mild insanity in which there is extreme foolishness, _lemana_.
7. Madness of a violent character, _mokalala_.
8. Idiocy, _bowewe_ and _ewelewete_.
9. Asthmatical wheezing, _yoko_ and _likoko_.
10. Cough, _ekokótu_. Coughs and colds are very common.
11. Crack in skin, _etena_. This is common and very troublesome, especially when on the sole of the foot, as the hard skin takes months to heal.
12. Crippled limb, _etengumwi_. This is very rare and results from a wound received in a fight, or from a burn, or from walking on the toes, heel, or side of the foot when there is a crack in the sole.
13. Nervous condition, _jita-jita-jita_, i.e. twitching.
14. Bad fever, _molungi juku-juku_ = heat, or fire plenty plenty. Fevers are common among the natives and yield to simple treatment. The temperature often goes very high.
15. Great debility, _lela_.
16. Poor state of health, indicated by frequent crops of boils breaking out on various parts of the body, _libembe_.
17. Patches of pustular sores, _lifwanja_.
18. Sore throat, _lilele_.
19. Yaws, _lingala_, mostly used in the plural, _mangala_.
20. Puffy condition of the body, probably a form of dropsy, _lontutu_.
21. Blindness, _lulanda_; not common.
22. Sleeping-sickness, _luwa_, _yobi_, and _makwata_.
23. Form of non-infectious leprosy in which the skin becomes a sickly white, indurated, cracked, and peeling. It is found generally on the hand and the arm below the elbow, _munkana_.
24. Very bad rheumatism, _yambaka_. Persons suffering from this complaint must not burn the wood of a certain tree called _lobaka_, or the pain will become more acute.
25. Intestinal worms, _munsobi_, and _munsembe_.
26. Dysentery with much blood, _mwajakongo_.
27. Ague fever, _nyankili_.
28. Chest complaints of all kinds, as pleurisy, pneumonia, etc., are called _ntulu_ = chest; to feel or suffer from such is _oka ntulu_ = hear, i.e. feel the chest. It is also called _mobanji_ = side, ribs.
29. Elephantiasis, _mungita_; not very common.
30. Abscesses and severe boils, _litunganaka_.
31. Umbilical hernia, _muntolu_; very common.
32. Scabies, _mputu_.
33. Fits and convulsions, _bonsinga_.
34. Sciatica, and extreme debility, _yombi_.
35. Boil, _ndala_; very frequently found.
36. Mild form of rheumatism, _mokoko_.
37. Cataract of the eye, _elalei_ and _molondo_; common.
38. Blindness in one eye, _muntelele_; occasionally found.
39. Ganglion on back of hand and wrist, _etai_.
40. Deafness, _lōko_; very seldom noticed.
41. Dumbness, _mbubu_. I never met with a case, but the fact that a word is known for it shows that the complaint is occasionally to be found among the people.
42. Venereal diseases, _lisabu_.
NOTE 6.—ON HEALTH OF WHITE MEN ON THE CONGO
Perhaps the following statistics respecting the health of white people on the Congo will interest the reader. I have kept careful notes during the last thirty years, and the figures may be accepted as accurate. The figures refer only to Missionaries of the Baptist Missionary Society.
One hundred and ten men have joined the Mission since its inception in 1878 until December 31st, 1911.
Of these: died 38
Left for various reasons 8 (not through health)
Left through personal 15 health
Left through wife’s health 6
——
67
Still in active service. 43
——
Total 110
Died during first year on 13 the Congo
Died during second year on 3 the Congo
Died during third year on 7 the Congo
Died during fourth year on 3 the Congo
Died during fifth year on 1 the Congo
Died during sixth year on 2 the Congo
Died during seventh year on 2 the Congo
Died during eighth year on 1 the Congo
Died during ninth year on 1 the Congo
Died during tenth year on 1 the Congo
Died during twelfth year on 1 the Congo
Died during sixteenth year 1 on the Congo
Died during twenty-sixth 2 year on the Congo
——
38
Of the above men, died of hæmaturic 9 fever
Of the above men, died of malarial 19
Of the above men, died of dysentery 2
Of the above men, died of other 6 diseases
Died in a London Hospital from 1 cancerous growth in the stomach
Died in England from embolism (clot 1 in the blood-vessels of the brain)
——
Total 38
During recent years we have found it advisable for men to remain out only for a first term of two years instead of three years, and afterwards four years instead of five years as formerly.
During the same period 79 ladies have joined the Mission. Of these:
Died 19 Left as widows 11 Left for personal health 11 Left for husband’s health 4 — 45
Still in active service 34 — Total 79
Died during the first year on the 5 Congo
Died during the second year on the 1 Congo
Died during the third year on the 2 Congo
Died during the fourth year on the 5 Congo
Died during the sixth year on the 1 Congo
Died during the eighth year on the 2 Congo
Died during the eleventh year on 1 the Congo
Died during the fourteenth year on 1 the Congo
Died during the twenty-sixth year 1 on the Congo
—
19
Of the above ladies, died of 5 hæmaturic fever
Of the above ladies, died of 7 malarial fever
Of the above ladies, died of 3 puerperal fever
Of the above ladies, died of 1 meningitis
Of the above ladies, died of 1 abscess on the liver
Died from typhoid fever at 1 Eastbourne
Died from some brain trouble in 1 America
—
19
During the first years of our Mission we lost the most of our men through bad houses, poor food, and ignorance of the proper treatment of fevers, etc. From 1878 to 1890 we lost in _twelve years_ 20 men by death; but during the _twenty years_ from 1891 to 1911 we have lost 18 men, although we have had in the field on active service twice, and sometimes thrice, as many men as in the earlier twelve years. The first years cost us most dearly while we were buying our experience. I might say that we are total abstainers, but are willing to take alcohol medicinally; and the smokers and non-smokers are about equally divided. Every man and woman must undergo a very strict and careful medical examination before being accepted by the Committee of the Society.
It will be seen that the first year of a man’s life on the Congo is the most crucial one, and the next trying year is the third, i.e. at the beginning and end of a man’s first term of service. We have altered the first term to two years. In the case of the ladies the first year and the fourth are the crucial ones. The ladies’ first term of service has always been two years, then one year at home. The figures point to the early months of the first and second terms as being most fatal. It will be noticed that the ladies have stood the climate better than the men; but they have never roughed it as the men, nor do they ever have to expose themselves in doing the kind of work that necessarily falls to the men—looking after building, transport, etc.
INDEX
Accidents, 331, 333
Adultery, 128, 161
African International Association, 20
Albinos, 325
Ancestors, 268
Arts and crafts, 83; leather-work, 84; string-making, 85; bark-cloth, 86; pottery, 87; metal-work, 89, 90; salt-making, 91; songs, 93; carpentering, 95
Astronomy, knowledge of, 141; beliefs _re_ sun, moon, and stars, 142
Bangala tribe, the, 18, 27, 161; language, 48; station, 48; district, 161
Bantu tribe, the, 159, 160
Bark-cloth, 86
Barter, system of, 143; and currency, 39
Belgian mal-administration, 20; atrocities, 24, 25
“Bespoke” money, 123
_Blood-brotherhood_, 72, 73, 100, 226
Blood-feuds, 99, 181
Bokomela tribe, the, 31, 32
_Bolobo_, 202
Bomuna tribe, the, 161, 162, 163, 250
Bonjoko, 99
“Books,” superstitions concerning, 40, 46, 47, 74
Boys, training of, 143, 145
Brass rods, 39 n.
Bread-making, 335
Bride-price, the, 123
Building, methods of, 65
Bumba, 34, 35
Bungundu Tribe, the, 28, 29, 30
Burial alive, 103, 320, 319; burial customs, 104, 105
Bush-burning, 229, 230
“Bush-people,” the, 19
Cannibalism, 31, 69, 70, 78, 104
Charms, 145, 146, 147, 232, 255, 280, 287, 302
Child-bearing, beliefs concerning, 129, 130, 131
Children, twins, 130, 132, 133, 141, 273, 290
Circumcision, 298
Cloud-folk, 274
Coffins, 317
Congo boy in England, 79
Congo Free State, the, 20
Congo, reforms in the, 25; Bolobo Mission, 28; Basin, 159; River, 161, 236
Cookery, difficulties of, 44; native, 117
Corpses, decoration of, 316; smoking of, 317
Counting, Boloki method of, 142, 339-348
Court of justice, 183
Crimes, native, 179
Curiosity, native, 74
Curses, native, 299-301
Customs, 26, 102, 103; marriage, 122, 171, 179; burial, 314
Crocodiles, 332
Dancing, 119, 120, 227, 321
Death, three causes of, 314; life after, 321
Diboko (_Nouvelles Anvers_), 48, 161, 163
Diseases, 269, 325, 344, 345; diagnosis of, 330
Disembodied spirits, 250, 263, 267
Divorce, 128
Dogs, hunting, 233
Dreams, 262
Drunkenness, 101
_Eboko_, 114, 126
Education, 75, 140, 143
Explosion, an, 316
Families, social status of, 170
Feasts, 104
Fetishes, 252-256; fetish bell, 292, 302
Fish collecting for the Museum, 235; traps, 236-244
Floods, 231
Folk-lore, 197-221
Food, 117, 160
Funeral ceremonies, 322
Game, 230, 231
Games, 149-158
Goats, present of two, 44
Government, democratic, of Boloki tribe, 172
Government, ideal of European, 26; native, 169
Graves, 318
Healers of special diseases, 327
Hospitality, 117, 137
Hospitals, 334
Houses, native, 43
Human sacrifices, 97, 263
Hunting, 145, 229-234
Immorality, 147
Inheritance, laws of, 111, 182
Insanity, 173, 291
Islands, 165
_Jando_, 272
Judge, the chief, 179
Justice, native ideas of, 182; court of, 183-186; author as judge, 192; typical cases, 193-196
Kiteke tribe, the, 257 n.
Labour, 114
Libinza Lake, 161, 162, 163, 165
Land, communal rights of, 109
Language, “trade,” 48; Bangala, 48, 50-54, 57-64, 336, 339
Laws, native, 170, 179
Leather-work, 84
Leopold II, King of Belgium, 20, 25
_Longa_, 107, 202, 249
Love philtres, 286
Lower Congo, the men of, 160, 162, 230, 246, 251, 254, 257, 267, 276, 230, 314, 335
Lupus in the Congo, 73 n.
Makwata and his talking spear, 278
_Manga_, 100, 101
Mangumbe, 264
Massage, 327
_Mata_, 122, 170, 171; Bwiki, 163, 169
Matadi, 19
Mayeya’s long dive, 277
Meat, mode of preserving, 232
Medicine men, and witch-doctors and magic, 95, 97, 102, 103, 232, 251, 258
Medicine, native, 327, 276, 280, 284, 293, 311, 324
Metal-work, 89, 90
Migration of native tribes, 162
Milk-brotherhood, 132
Mission on the Congo, 137
Mokwete, story of, 118
_Monanga_, 170
Monogamy, 138, 139
Monoka mwa Nkoi, 166
Monsembe District, the, 34, 36, 159, 163, 231
Monsters, mythical, 273
Mourning, signs of, 320, 321
Moon, beliefs concerning, 142, 248
Mother-in-law, the, 133, 134
Mungala Creek, the, 163, 164; river, 164
Munyata, murder of, 164
Murder, punishment for, 181; detection of murderer, 310
Musuku, 22
Natives, characteristics of, 17, 23, 24, 25, 117, 174, 176, 177
Nether world, the, 321
Nouvelles Anvers Station, 48, 161, 163
Nursing the sick, 316
_Nzambi_, 247
Omens, 131, 226, 227, 233, 262
Ordeals, poison, 182, 185-189; various, 190, 191
Palavers, 191
_Peace_, the steamer, 27
Pictures, learning to read, 173
Pioneers, early Christian, 22 n.
Polygamy, 125, 134, 135, 136, 139
Portuguese Roman Catholic Mission, 24 n.
Pottery, 87
Purification, rite of, 102
Raiding expeditions, 166
Railways, the narrow-gauge, 19
Rain-doctors, 96, 280
Religious beliefs, 246, 249, 250, 251, 252, 254, 255, 257, 258, 263
Reincarnation, belief in, 130, 198
River rights, 110
Rivers: Congo, 161, 237; Mobangi, 161; Welle, 161; Nrgiri, 165; Mungala, 164
San Salvador, 17, 22, 258
Salt-making, 91
Salutations, 107
Skulls, use of, 323
Slaves, 110, 111, 113, 125, 170
Sleeping-sickness, treatment, 289
Smallpox, native cure for, 288
Smith, a native, 90
Snake omen, the, 131, 226
Songs, native, 92, 93, 120
Spirits: belief in, 98, 250, 261; disembodied, 263; fear of, 266; deception of, 267; effect of, 268; of disease, 269, 325; transference into criminals, 271, 282; of wealth, 271; of the bush, 274; transference into spears, 274; in trees, 275; of the saucepan, 286; possession, 328
Sport, native, 144, 239
Stanley Pool, 19
String-making, 85
Suicide, 322
Superstitions, 40, 46, 131, 167, 176, 197, 227, 232, 248, 323
Swimming, 144
Taboos, 84, 114, 294; permanent, 196; temporary, 297; removal of, 298, 326
Tattooing, 140, 141, 167
Teeth, chiselling of, 141
Theft, 147, 175, 180; detection of thief, 310
Time, system of reckoning, 142
Trade and currency, 114, 115, 143
Trade routes, 21, 22
Trading factories, 22
Transmigration, 197
Traps, game, 145, 233, 234, 236
Tribal marks, 167
Totems, 131, 132, 147, 294
Twins, treatment of, 130
“Undertakers,” native, 317
Upper Congo, 17, 49, 129, 230, 237, 246, 280, 332
Villages, 115
Virgins, 136
Vocabulary, collecting a, 50-54, 57-61
War, tribal, 68, 116; the family fight, 222; the town fight, 224
Weapons, 227, 228
Wine: sugar-cane, 100, 254, 322, 335; palm, 335
Women: native treatment of, 77, 78, 95; widows, 111, 117; family life, 119; marriage, 122-126; divorce, 128; quarrels about, 226; disposal of widows, 111, 321; mourning of widows, 321; rights of wives, 125; loan of wives, 125; self-defence of wives, 126; exchange of wives, 128, 264; inherited wives, 182; white, 347
Workmen, native, 81, 82
Zanzibaris, the, 20, 21
WILLIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD. PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH
● Transcriber’s Notes: ○ Missing or obscured punctuation was silently corrected. ○ Typographical errors were silently corrected. ○ Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation were made consistent only when a predominant form was found in this book. ○ Text that: was in italics is enclosed by underscores (_italics_); was in bold by is enclosed by “equal” signs (=bold=).