Some said one thing, and some said another, and at last he answered that it was gra.s.s.
Then he asked me, "What good thing was it which a man eats, and which he constantly fastens his eyes upon while he eats, and after eating, throws a half away?" I thought and considered, but I never knew what it was until he told me that it was a roasted ear of Indian corn.
That old man was a very wise one, and among some of his sayings was that "When people dream much, the old moon must be dying."
He also said that "When the old moon is dying, the hunter need never leave home to seek game, because it is well known that he would meet nothing."
And he further added, that at that time the potter need not try to bake any pots, because the clay would be sure to be rotten.
Some other things which he said made me think a little of their meaning.
He said, "When people have provisions in their huts, they do not say, Let us go into another man"s house and rob him."
He also said, "When you see a crook-back, you do not ask him to stand straight, nor an old man to join the dance, nor the man who is in pain, to laugh."
And what he said about the traveller is very true. The man who clings to his own hearth does not tickle our ears, like him who sees many lands, and hears new stories.
The next day I stopped at a village near the little lake of Kitesa"s called Mtukura. The chief in charge loved talking so much, that he soon made me as well acquainted with the affairs of his family as though he courted my sister. His people are accustomed to eat frogs and rats, and from the noise in the reeds, and the rustling and squealings in the roof of the hut I slept in, I think there is little fear of famine in that village. Nor are they averse, they tell me, to iguanas and those vile feeders, the hyenas.
It is a common belief in the country that it was Naraki, a wife of Uni, a sultan of Unyoro, who made that lake. While pa.s.sing through, she was very thirsty, and cried out to her Muzimu (spirit), the Muzimu which attends the kings of Unyoro, and which is most potent. And all at once there was a hissing flight of firestones (meteorites) in the air, and immediately after, there was a fall of a monstrously large one, which struck the ground close to her, and made a great hole, out of which the water spurted and continued leaping up until a lake was formed, and buried the fountain out of sight, and the rising waters formed a river, which has run north from the lake ever since into the Kafu.
Close by this lake is a dark grove, sacred to Muzingeh, the king of the birds. It is said that he has only one eye, but once a year he visits the grove, and after building his house, he commands all the birds from the Nyanzas and the groves, to come and see him and pay their homage.
For half a moon the birds, great and small, may be seen following him about along the sh.o.r.es of the lake, like so many guards around a king; and before night they are seen returning in the same manner to the grove. The parrots" cries tell the natives when they come, and no one would care to miss the sight, and the glad excitement among the feathered tribe. But there is one bird, called the Kirurumu, that refuses to acknowledge the sovereignty of the Muzingeh. The other birds have tried often to induce him to a.s.sociate with the Muzingeh; but Kirurumu always answers that a beautiful creature like himself, with gold and blue feathers, and such a pretty crest, was never meant to be seen in the company of an ugly bird that possesses only one eye.
On the other side of Lake Mtukura is a forest where Dungu, the king of the animals, lives. It is to Dungu that all the hunters pray when they set out to seek for game. He builds first a small hut, and after propitiating him with a small piece of flesh, he asks Dungu that he may be successful. Then Dungu enters into the hunter"s head, if he is pleased with the offering, and the cunning of the man becomes great; his nerves stiffen, and his bowels are strengthened, and the game is secured. When Dungu wishes a man to succeed in the hunt, it is useless for the buffalo to spurn the earth and moo, or for the leopard to cover himself with sand in his rage--the spear of the hunter drinks his blood.
But the hunter must not forget to pay the tribute to the deity, lest he be killed on the way home.
The friendly chief insisted that I should become his blood-fellow, and stay with him a couple of days. The witch-doctor, a man of great influence in the country, was asked to unite us. He took a sharp little knife, and made a gash in the skin of my right leg, just above the knee, and did the same to the chief, and then rubbed his blood over my wound, and my blood over his, and we became brothers. Among his gifts was this beautiful shield, which I beg Mtesa, my Kabaka, to accept, because I have seen none so beautiful, and it is too good for a colonel whose only hope and wish is to serve his king.
I am glad that I rested there, because I saw a most wonderful sight towards evening. As we were seated under the bananas, we heard a big he-goat"s bleat, and by the sound of it we knew that it was neither for fun nor for love. It was a tone of anger and fear. Almost at the same time, one of the boys rushed up to us, and his face had really turned grey from fear, and he cried, "There is a lion in the goat-pen, and the big he-goat is fighting with him." They had forgotten to tell me about this famous goat, which was called Kasuju, after some great man who had been renowned in war, and he certainly was worth speaking about, and Kasuju was well known round about for his wonderful strength and fighting qualities. When we got near the pen with our spears and shields, the he-goat was b.u.t.ting the lion--who was young, for he had no mane--as he might have b.u.t.ted a pert young nanny-goat, and baaing with as full a note as that of a buffalo calf. It appears that Kasuju saw the destroyer creeping towards one of his wives, and dashing at his flank knocked him down. As we looked on from the outside, we saw that Kasuju was holding his own very well, and we thought that we would not check the fight, but prepare ourselves to have a good cast at the lion as he attempted to leave. The lion was getting roused up, and we saw the spring he made: but Kasuju nimbly stepped aside and gave him such a stroke that it sounded like a drum. Then Kasuju trotted away in front of his trembling wives, and as the lion came up, we watched him draw his ears back as he raised himself on his hind feet like a warrior. The lion advanced to him, and he likewise rose as though he would wrestle with him, when Kasuju shot into his throat with so true and fair a stroke, that drove one of his horns deep into the throat. It was then the lion"s claws began to work, and with every scratch poor Kasuju"s hide was torn dreadfully, but he kept his horn in the wound, and pushed home, and made the wound large. Then the lion sprang free, and the blood spurted all over Kasuju. Blinded with his torn and hanging scalp, and weakened with his wounds, he staggered about, pounding blindly at his enemy, until the lion gave him one mighty stroke with its paw, and sent him headlong, and then seized him by the neck and shook him, and we heard the cruel crunch as the fangs met. But it was the last effort of the lion, for just as Kasuju was lifeless, the lion rolled over him, dead also. Had my friend told me this story, I should not have believed him, but as I saw it with my own eyes, I am bound to believe it. We buried Kasuju honourably in a grave, as we would bury a brave man; but the lion we skinned, and I have got his fur with the ragged hole in the throat.
The singular fight we had witnessed, furnished us all with much matter for talk about lions, and it brought into the mind of one of them a story of a crocodile and lion fight which had happened some time before in the night. Lake Mtukura swarms with crocodiles, and situated as it is in a region of game they must be fat with prey. One night a full-grown lion with a fine mane came to cool his dry throat in the lake, and was quaffing water, when he felt his nose seized by something that rose up from below.
From the traces of the struggle by the water"s edge, it must have been a terrible one. The crocodile"s long claws had left deep marks, showing how he must have been lifted out of the water, and flung forcibly down; but in the morning both lion and crocodile were found dead, the crocodile"s throat wide open with a broad gash, but his teeth still fastened in the lion"s nose.
Saruti had not half finished his stories when he felt, by seeing Mtesa yawn, that though his adventures were very interesting, and he was quite ready to continue, yet it would be to his advantage to dock his tongue for the time being. So he said, "Kabaka, the wise old man whom I met, told me one thing I had nearly forgotten to say. He said, "I know you are a servant of the king, and if ever you want the king"s face to soften to you and his hand to open with gifts, compare yourself to the lid of a cooking-pot, which, though the pot may be full of fragrant stew, receives naught but the vapour, and the king who is wise will understand and will be pleased with his servant.""
"Very well said indeed, Saruti," cried Mtesa, laughing. "I understand.
The lid must share with the pot this time. Steward," he said, turning to Kauta, "see that six head of cattle be driven to Saruti"s cattle-pen;" and Saruti twiyanzied (thanked with prostrations) so often that his head swam.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
THE BOY KINNENEH AND THE GORILLA.
It is in such stories as the Fable of the Rabbit, the Leopard and the Goat, the Dog and the little Chicken, the Leopard, the Sheep and the Dove, the Crane, the Leopard and the Sheep, the Rabbit and the Lion, the Cow and the Lion, the Lion and his mane, the Rabbit and the Leopard, and the boy Kinneneh and the Gorilla, that Kadu, our accomplished relator of legends, shone. It is not with a wish to be unkind to Kadu that I say he showed only too well that according to him cunning was to be preferred to strength. Perhaps he was right, though cunning is a word in much discredit with us nowadays, because we are accustomed to ally it with deception and fraud, but we will put the best possible construction on it out of admiration for and grat.i.tude to Kadu, and claim that his cunning, which was the moral of most of his stories, was a kind of illegitimate wisdom, or a permissible artfulness. None of us, at least, but sympathised with Kadu"s dumb heroes when, by a little pleasant cheat or sly stratagem, the bullying buffalo got the worst of an encounter with the sharp-witted rabbit, or when the dog got the better of his sour mistress the leopardess, or when rabbit put to shame the surly elephant, or when Kibatti conquered the kings of the animal tribes. The legend of Kinneneh and the Gorilla was another story which evidently was meant by Kadu and the unknown ancient of Uganda who invented it to ill.u.s.trate that cunning is mightier than strength. He told it in this wise:
In the early days of Uganda, there was a small village situate on the other side of the Katonga, in Buddu, and its people had planted bananas and plantains which in time grew to be quite a large grove, and produced abundant and very fine fruit. From a grove of bananas when its fruit is ripe there comes a very pleasant odour, and when a puff of wind blows over it, and bears the fragrance towards you, I know of nothing so well calculated to excite the appet.i.te, unless it be the smell of roasted meat. Anyhow, such must have been the feeling of a mighty big gorilla, who one day, while roaming about alone in the woods searching for nuts to eat, stopped suddenly and stood up and sniffed for some time, with his nose well out in the direction of the village. After awhile he shook his head and fell on all fours again to resume his search for food. Again there came with a whiff of wind a strong smell of ripe bananas, and he stood on his feet once more, and with his nose shot out thus he drew in a greedy breath and then struck himself over the stomach, and said:
"I thought it was so. There are bananas that way, and I must get some."
Down he fell on all fours, and put out his arms with long stretches, just as a fisherman draws in a heavy net, and is eager to prevent the escape of the fish.
In a little while he came to the edge of the grove, and stood and looked gloatingly on the beautiful fruit hanging in great bunches. Presently he saw something move. It was a woman bent double over a basket, and packing the fruit neatly in it, so that she could carry a large quant.i.ty at one journey.
The gorilla did not stay long thinking, but crawled up secretly to her; and then with open arms rushed forward and seized her. Before the woman could utter her alarm he had lifted her and her basket and trotted away with them into the deepest bush. On reaching his den he flung the woman on the ground, as you would fling dead meat, and bringing the banana basket close to him, his two legs hugging it close to his round paunch, he began to gorge himself, muttering while he peeled the fruit strange sounds. By-and-by the woman came to her senses, but instead of keeping quiet, she screamed and tried to run away. If it were not for that movement and noise, she perhaps might have been able to creep away unseen, but animals of all kinds never like to be disturbed while eating, so Gorilla gave one roar of rage, and gave her such a squeeze that the breath was clean driven out of her. When she was still he fell to again, and tore the peeling off the bananas, and tossed one after another down his wide throat, until there was not one of the fruit left in the basket, and the big paunch was swollen to twice its first size.
Then, after laying his paw on the body to see if there was any life left in it, he climbed up to his nest above, and curled himself into a ball for a sleep.
When he woke he shook himself and yawned, and looking below he saw the body of the woman, and her empty basket, and he remembered what had happened. He descended the tree, lifted the body and let it fall, then took up the basket, looked inside and outside of it, raked over the peelings of the bananas, but could not find anything left to eat.
He began to think, scratching the fur on his head, on his sides, and his paunch, picking up one thing and then another in an absent-minded way.
And then he appeared to have made up a plan.
Whatever it was, this is what he did. It was still early morning, and as there was no sign of a sun, it was cold, and human beings must have been finishing their last sleep. He got up and went straight for the plantation. On the edge of the banana-grove he heard a c.o.c.k crow; he stopped and listened to it; he became angry.
"Some one," he said to himself, "is stealing my bananas," and with that he marched in the direction where the c.o.c.k was crowing.
He came to the open place in front of the village, and saw several tall houses much larger than his own nest; and while he was looking at them, the door of one of them was opened, and a man came out. He crept towards him, and before he could cry out the gorilla had squeezed him until his ribs had cracked, and he was dead; he flung him down, and entered into the hut. He there saw a woman, who was blowing a fire on the hearth, and he took hold of her and squeezed her until there was no life left in her body. There were three children inside, and a bed on the floor. He treated them also in the same way, and they were all dead. Then he went into another house, and slew all the people in it, one with a squeeze, another with a squeeze and a bite with his great teeth, and there was not one left alive. In this way he entered into five houses and killed all the people in them, but in the sixth house lived the boy Kinneneh and his old mother.
Kinneneh had fancied that he heard an unusual sound, and he had stood inside with his eyes close to a c.h.i.n.k in the reed door for some time when he saw something that resembled what might be said to be half animal and half man. He walked like a man, but had the fur of a beast.
His arms were long, and his body was twice the breadth and thickness of a full-grown man. He did not know what it was, and when he saw it go into his neighbours" houses, and heard those strange sounds, he grew afraid, and turned and woke his mother, saying,
"Mother, wake up! there is a strange big beast in our village killing our people. So wake up quickly and follow me."
"But whither shall we fly, my son?" she whispered anxiously.
"Up to the loft, and lie low in the darkest place," replied Kinneneh, and he set her the example and a.s.sisted his mother.
Now those Uganda houses are not low-roofed like these of Congo-land, but are very high, as high as a tree, and they rise to a point, and near the top there is a loft where we stow our nets, and pots, and where our spear-shafts and bows are kept to season, and where our corn is kept to dry, and green bananas are stored to ripen. It was in this dark lofty place that Kinneneh hid himself and his mother, and waited in silence.
In a short time the gorilla put his head into their house and listened, and stepping inside he stood awhile, and looked searchingly around. He could see no one and heard nothing stir. He peered under the bed-gra.s.s, into the black pots and baskets, but there was no living being to be found.
"Ha, ha," he cried, thumping his chest like a man when he has got the big head. "I am the boss of this place now, and the tallest of these human nests shall be my own, and I shall feast every day on ripe bananas and plantains, and there is no one who can molest me--ha, ha!"
"Ha, ha!" echoed a shrill, piping voice after his great ba.s.s.
The gorilla looked around once more, among the pots, and the baskets, but finding nothing walked out. Kinneneh, after awhile skipped down the ladder and watched between the open cane-work of the door, and saw him enter the banana-grove, and waited there until he returned with a mighty load of the fruit. He then saw him go out again into the grove, and bidding his mother lie still and patient, Kinneneh slipped out and ascended into the loft of the house chosen by the gorilla for his nest, where he hid himself and waited.
Presently the gorilla returned with another load of the fruit, and, squatting on his haunches, commenced to peel the fruit, and fill his throat and mouth with it, mumbling and chuckling, and saying,
"Ha, ha! This is grand! Plenty of bananas to eat, and all--all my own.
None to say, "Give me some," but all my very own. Ho, ho! I shall feast every day. Ha, ha!"
"Ha, ha," echoed the piping voice again.
The gorilla stopped eating and made an ugly frown as he listened. Then he said: