Stories of the Gorilla Country

We had divided. Etia, Gambo, two other men, and I kept together, and we had hardly gone more than an hour when we heard the cry of a young gorilla after his mother. Etia heard it first, and at once pointed out the direction in which it was.

Immediately we began to walk with greater caution than before. Presently Etia and Gambo crept ahead, as they were expert with the net, and were also the best woodsmen. I unwillingly remained behind, but dared not go with them, lest my clumsier movements should betray our presence. In a short time we heard two guns fired. Running up, we found the mother gorilla shot, but her little one had escaped; they had not been able to catch it.

The poor mother lay there in her gore, but the little fellow was off in the woods. So we concealed ourselves hard by to wait, for its return. Presently it came up, jumped on its mother, and began sucking at her breasts and fondling her. Then Etia, Gambo, and I rushed upon it. Though evidently less than two years old, it proved very strong, and escaped from us. But we gave chase, and in a few minutes had it fast, not, however, before one of the men had his arm severely bitten by the savage little beast.

It proved to be a young female. Unhappily, she lived but ten days after capture. She persistently refused to eat any cooked food, or anything else except the nuts and berries which they eat in the forest. She was not so ferocious as "Fighting Joe," but was quite as treacherous and quite as untameable. She permitted no one to approach her without trying to bite. Her eyes seemed somewhat milder than Joe's, but had the same gloomy and treacherous look, and she had the same way as Joe of looking you straight in the eyes when she was meditating an attack. I remarked in her also the same manœuvre practised by the other when she wished to seize something, my leg, for instance, which, by reason of the chain around her neck, she could not reach with her arm. She would look me straight in the face, then quick as a flash would throw her body on one leg and one arm and reach out with the other leg. Several times I had narrow escapes from the grip of her strong big toe. I thought sometimes that when she looked at me she appeared cross-eyed, but of this I could not make certain. All her motions were remarkably quick, and her strength was very great, though she was so small.

CHAPTER XXXIII

VOYAGE UP THE RIVER – WE BUILD A VILLAGE NEAR OBINDJI – QUENGUEZA'S PLAN FOR KEEPING THE SABBATH – KINDNESS OF THE NATIVES – A TRIAL BY ORDEAL

King Quengueza accompanied me on my voyage up the Rembo and Ovenga rivers. We were followed by a great many canoes, and by chiefs of the Ashira and Bakalai tribes. We were going to the Bakalai country. The weather was intensely hot; even the negroes suffered; and, though I had a thick umbrella over my head, and sat quite still, I had frequently to bathe my head and keep wet handkerchiefs in my banana hat; for I feared a sunstroke.

The river was narrow and deep, flowing generally between high lands and hills, and now and then in the midst of flats.

Everybody complained except Macondai. He was the most spirited little negro I ever saw, a real little hero. I tell you that many, very many, of these African boys have a good deal of pluck, although they are black.

Two days after we started, we arrived, a little before sunset, at the village of Obindji, a Bakalai chief, who was a great friend of Quengueza. Wherever we passed a Bakalai village the people rushed down to the banks to see me. As we approached the village of Obindji, our men fired guns and sang songs. Obindji came down in great state, dressed in his silk hat, a shirt, and a nice cloth. He was ringing his kendo– a bell, which is the insignia of kingship there – a sort of royal sceptre. The high-crowned silk hat, also, as I said before, is worn only by the chiefs.

I said to Obindji, "Why do you ring your kendo?"

He replied, "Obindji's heart is glad, and he thanks his Mboundji (a spirit) that he has to-day come up higher than he ever stood before – a ntanga (white man) has come to see Obindji."

When we had landed, and the two kings and I were seated on the stools used in that country, the grand reception began. Quengueza gave to his friend Obindji, and to all the Bakalai who surrounded us, an account of his entire intercourse with me, from the time he came down to see me at the seashore to the present hour.

Then Obindji replied, giving, in like manner (in short sentences), a statement of his feelings when he heard that Quengueza was to bring a ntanga to see him. This closed the conference.

The village of Obindji was small, and was beautifully situated at the foot of a high hill, just on the banks of the Ovenga. The Ovenga river belonged to Quengueza, and, except at its head waters, it had been inhabited by the Bakalai only since the time of Quengueza's eldest brother, whom he had succeeded. These Bakalai are very warlike; they are much dreaded by the other tribes.

The region of the Ovenga is a grand and wild country. It consists of hills and mountains, covered with impenetrable forests, which teem with all kinds of insects. Many animals, curious birds, and a great number of snakes are found there, together with those extraordinary ants – the bashikonay. There also are the chimpanzees and gorillas.

As I intended to remain some time, I set about building another village. The men all went into the forest to collect bark, palm leaves, and posts.

When Sunday came, I requested Quengueza to make the men rest on this day, explaining to him that white men do not work on the Sabbath.

The old man was puzzled for a moment, and then said, "We are much hurried now. Suppose you put off the Sunday for three or four weeks. Then we can have as many Sundays as you want. We will keep four or five days following each other as Sundays. It will be just the same."

He seemed quite proud of his discovery and was quite disappointed when I told him it would not do.

I worked very hard in building my house. The labour was the more trying because the heat was so intense; there was not a breath of wind in this Bakalai country. Besides, the fever had got hold of me again; but I did not give way to it.

Obindji became very friendly to me. I may say that all these negroes seemed to take a liking for me. I made quite a number of friends among the Bakalai. Two of them, indeed, were very dear friends of mine; they were called Malaouen and Querlaouen. I really do not know which of the two I liked the best. They were ready to do anything I wished them to do. If I proposed a hunt, they immediately offered to accompany me; if they killed game, they presented me with the best piece. Their wives were sure to bring me, almost every day, sugar-cane, plantain, or something else. As for Obindji, he did all in his power to please me. Moreover, Quengueza was always close to me. He said that wherever I went he would follow me, and build his shed by the side of mine. I was now Quengueza's white man and Obindji's white man. They all seemed to take pride in me. I am sure I also tried my best to be kind to them. Above all things, I wanted them to believe my word implicitly. Hence, whatever I promised, I kept my word. They noticed this; and therefore no one doubted me. These poor people, though they have no word to describe "an honest man," know the difference between lying and truth-telling; and they appreciate truthfulness.

One day I saw a trial by ordeal performed. A little boy, a son of Aquailai, the doctor who had driven the aniemba, or witch, from the main street at Goumbi, reported that one of Quengueza's men had damaged a Bakalai's canoe. The owner demanded compensation for the injury. The Goumbi men denied that he had injured the canoe, and asked for trial. An Ashira doctor who was in the village was called. He said that the only way to make the truth appear was by the trial of the ring boiled in oil. Thereupon, the Bakalai and the Goumbi men gathered together, and the trial was at once made.

The Ashira doctor stuck three little billets of wood into the ground, with their top ends together, then he piled some smaller pieces between, till all were laid as high as the three pieces. A native earthenware pot, half full of palm oil, was set upon the wood, which had been set on fire; and the oil was set on fire also. When it had burned up brightly, a brass bracelet or ring from the doctor's hand was cast into the pot. The doctor stood by with a little vase full of grass soaked in water, of which he threw in, now and then, some bits. This made the oil blaze up fresh. At last, all was burned out, and now came the trial. The accuser, the little boy, was required at once to take the ring out of the pot. He hesitated, but was pushed on by his father. The people cried out, "Let us see whether he lied or told the truth." Finally he put his hand in and seized the almost red-hot ring, but quickly dropped it, having severely burned his fingers. At this there was a shout, "He lied! he lied!" and the Goumbi man was declared innocent. I ventured to suggest that he also would burn his fingers if he touched the ring, but nobody seemed to consider this view of the subject.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE KOOLOO-KAMBA – THE GOUAMBA, OR MEAT-HUNGER – EXPLORING THE FOREST – GORILLA-HUNTING – WITHIN EIGHT YARDS OF A LARGE GORILLA – HE ROARS WITH RAGE AND MARCHES UPON US

We established ourselves in a deserted Bakalai village, a few miles from the banks of the Ovenga, and about ten miles above Obindji. I was glad that I had no olako to build.

There were with me several Bakalai; among whom, of course, were my good friends Querlaouen and Malaouen. Gambo was also one of our party.

After our camp was arranged we went out to look for gorilla tracks. It was too late to hunt; besides, we were too tired. In the evening Malaouen came in after dark, and said he had heard the cry of the kooloo, and knew where to find it in the morning.

Of course I asked what this kooloo was; for I had not the slightest idea of what he meant. I had never heard the name before. I received, in answer, a description of the animal, which threw me into the greatest excitement; for I saw this was most certainly a new species of ape, or man-like monkey; a new man of the woods, of which I had not even heard as yet. It was called kooloo-kamba by the Goumbi people from its cry or call, "kooloo," and the Commi word kamba, which means "speak." The Bakalai call it simply koola.

I scarce slept all night, with fidgeting over the morrow's prospects. The Bakalai said the kooloo-kamba was very rare here, and there was only a chance that we should find the one whose call had been heard.

At last the tedious night was gone. At the earliest streak of dawn I had my men up. We had fixed our guns the night before. All was ready, and we set out in two parties. My party had been walking through the forest about an hour, by a path which led, I knew not where, when suddenly I stepped into a file of bashikonay ants, whose fierce bites nearly made me scream. The little rascals were infuriated at my disturbance of their progress; and they held on to my legs, and to my trousers, till I picked them off. Of course I jumped nimbly out of the way of the great army of which they formed part, but I did not get off without some severe bites.

We had hardly got clear of the bashikonays, when my ears were saluted by the singular cry of the ape I was after. "Koola-kooloo, koola-kooloo," it said several times. Only Gambo and Malaouen were with me. Gambo and I raised our eyes, and saw, high up on a tree-branch, a large ape. It looked almost like a black hairy man. We both fired at once; and the next moment the poor beast fell with a heavy crash to the ground. I rushed up, anxious to see if indeed I had a new animal. I saw in a moment that it was neither a nshiego mbouvé, nor a common chimpanzee, nor a gorilla. Again I had a happy day. This kooloo-kamba was undoubtedly a new variety of chimpanzee.

We at once disembowelled the animal, which was a full-grown male. We found in his stomach nothing but berries, nuts, and fruits. He had no doubt just begun to take his breakfast.

This kooloo-kamba was four feet three inches high.

He was powerfully built, with strong and square shoulders. He had a very round head, with whiskers running quite round the face and below the chin. The face was round; the cheek-bones prominent; the cheeks sunken. The roundness of the head and the prominence of the cheek-bones were so great as to remind me of some of the heads of Indians or Chinamen. The hair was black and long on the arms, which, however, were partly bare. His ears were large, and shaped like those of a human being. Of its habits the people could tell me nothing, except that it was found more frequently in the far interior. I brought the skin of this kooloo-kamba to New York, and some years ago many people saw it.

On our return to Obindji we were overtaken by my good friend Querlaouen, who had shot a wild pig, of which the good fellow gave me half. The negroes feasted on the kooloo meat, which I could not touch. So the pig was welcome to me, as indeed it was to Quengueza, whom we found almost crying with an affection which is common in this part of Africa, and is called gouamba, but for which we happily have no name. Gouamba is the inordinate longing and craving of exhausted nature for meat. For days, and sometimes for weeks, a man does not get any meat at all, and whenever other food is brought before him, you will hear him say, looking at the food with disgust, "Gouamba," which means literally, "I am sick of food; I have a craving for meat; I care for nothing else."

I had some glorious gorilla-hunting while in the Bakalai country, in the upper regions of the Ovenga river. Malaouen, Querlaouen, Gambo, and I, often started out together, and remained for days in the thickest part of the forest. Now and then we would return to Obindji to get a supply of plantain, and then would go off again. We roamed over the forest in all directions; we explored some new regions; and sometimes we got lost in the midst of impenetrable mountains, where often for days we killed nothing.

In these excursions we suffered sometimes a good deal; for we had to endure many hardships. We often had very poor fare, and fever sometimes prostrated me.

One day, I remember well, we were out for gorillas; which we knew were to be found thereabouts, by the presence of a pulpy pear-shaped fruit, the tondo, of which the animal is very fond. I also am very fond of the subdued and grateful acid of this fruit, which is eaten by the negroes as well as by the gorilla.

We found everywhere gorilla marks, and so recent that we began to think the animals must be avoiding us. This was really the case, I believe, though I am not sure. At any rate, we beat the bush for two hours, before, at last, we found the game. Suddenly, an immense gorilla advanced out of the wood, straight towards us, and gave vent, as he came up, to a terrible howl of rage, as much as to say, "I am tired of being pursued, and will face you."

It was a lone male, the kind which are always most ferocious. This fellow made the woods resound with his roar, which is really an awful sound, resembling very much a rolling and muttering of distant thunder.

He was about twenty yards off when we first saw him. We at once gathered together; and I was about to take aim and bring him down where he stood, when Malaouen stopped me, saying in a whisper, "Not time yet."

We stood, therefore, in silence, gun in hand. The gorilla looked at us for a minute or so out of his evil grey eyes, then beat his breast with his gigantic arms – and what arms he had! – then he gave another howl of defiance and advanced upon us. How horrible he looked! I shall never forget it.

Again he stopped not more than fifteen yards away.

Still Malaouen said, "Not yet." Good gracious! what is to become of us, if our guns miss fire, or if we only wound the huge beast?

Again the gorilla made an advance upon us. Now he was not twelve yards off. I could see plainly his ferocious face. It was distorted with rage; his huge teeth were ground against each other, so that we could hear the sound; the skin of the forehead was drawn forward and back rapidly, which made his hair move up and down, and gave a truly devilish expression to the hideous face. Once more he gave out a roar, which seemed to shake the woods like thunder; I could really feel the earth trembling under my feet. The gorilla, looking us in the eyes, and beating his breast, advanced again.

"Don't fire too soon," said Malaouen; "if you do not kill him, he will kill you."

This time he came within eight yards of us before he stopped. I was breathing fast with excitement as I watched the huge beast.

Malaouen said only, "Steady," as the gorilla came up. When he stopped, Malaouen said, "Now!" And before he could utter the roar for which he was opening his mouth, three musket-balls were in his body. He fell dead, almost without a struggle.

He was a monstrous beast indeed, though not amongst the tallest. His height was five feet six inches. His arms had a spread of seven feet two inches. His broad brawny chest measured fifty inches round. The big toe of his foot measured five inches and three quarters in circumference. His arms seemed like immense bunches of muscle only; and his legs and claw-like feet were so well fitted for grabbing and holding that I could see how easy it was for the negroes to believe that these animals, when they conceal themselves in trees and watch for prey, can seize and pull up with their feet any living thing, leopard, ox, or man, that passes beneath.

The face of this gorilla was intensely black. The vast chest, which proved his great power, was bare, and covered with a parchment-like skin. His body was covered with grey hair.

While the animal approached us in its fierce way, walking on its hind legs and facing us as few animals dare face man, it really seemed to me to be a horrid likeness of man.

CHAPTER XXXV

WE GO UP THE RIVER TO N'CALAI BOUMBA – A SEVERE ATTACK OF FEVER – THE TENDER CARE OF THE NATIVES FOR ME – ANGUILAI ACCUSES HIS PEOPLE OF BEWITCHING ME – I GO OUT AND QUIET HIM – A BOY CUT TO PIECES FOR WITCHCRAFT – A USEFUL IDOL – THE EBONY TREES

With Quengueza I resumed the ascent of the river Ovenga. We were bound to the town of a chief named Anguilai. The place was called N'calai Boumba.

We left Obindji early in the morning. On the way we passed several Bakalai villages, the largest of which, Npopo, I afterwards visited. The river banks, all the way up, were densely wooded, but very sparsely inhabited by beasts. We saw no animals the whole day, except one monkey and a few birds.

Anguilai, who was one of the vassals of Quengueza, and a powerful Bakalai chief, and whom I had met at Obindji's, received us well.

Anguilai's town is the hottest place I ever saw in Africa. N'calai Boumba was set in a hollow, and the houses were so small and close as to be quite unendurable to me. The village was only a little more than a year old. The people had come lately from the interior. Plantations of plantain trees were very abundant.

Towards the end of April I was brought down to my bed with fever. This was the severest attack I had yet experienced in Africa. It entirely prostrated me. I looked like a corpse. Not a single particle of colour could be seen on my face. I had no strength. I could not eat. I could not walk.

For three days I had violent returns of the fever. The blood rushed to my head, and my mind wandered at times; so the natives told me. Of course I cannot remember what I said. I only know that my head burned like fire, and that I was almost mad with pain. Between the attacks of fever I really thought I should die and I commended my soul to God.

While I lay sick, people came and entreated me not to hunt so much and so constantly. They said, "Look at us; we hunt one day; we rest two. When we hunt three days, we rest for many days after it. But you go out every day."

I thought to myself, they are right, and I shall follow their rule hereafter. But it was hard to do so; for I felt that no one else was in the field; that in such an unhealthy climate no one can live very long, and I wanted to do as much work as I could. I wanted to bring all the wonders of that part of the world to light; and I felt that I was getting older and older, and there was yet very much work to be done. So I prayed God to give me strength for the work that was entrusted to my hands.

I shall never forget the kindness of those native women to me while I was sick. Poor souls! they are sadly abused by their task-masters. They are the merest slaves. They have to do all the drudgery. They receive blows and ill-usage. And yet, at the sight of suffering, their hearts soften, just as women's hearts soften in our own more civilized lands. No sooner did sickness attack me than these kind souls came to nurse and take care of me. They sat by me to fan me; they brought more mats for my bed; they bathed my burning head with cold water; they got me refreshing fruit from the woods. At night, when I woke up from a feverish dream, I used to hear their voices, as they sat around in the darkness, pitying me and contriving ways to cure me.

When I think of these things I cannot help thanking God for them; that, wherever I have gone, He has made human hearts tender and kind to me; that, even under the black skin of the benighted and savage African, He has implanted something of His own compassionate love.

Anguilai and Quengueza were sadly alarmed at my illness. Anguilai accused his people of wickedly bewitching me. One still night he walked up and down the village, threatening, in a loud voice, to kill the sorcerers if he could only find them. I had to get up and tell Anguilai that I was sure his people and the Bakalai loved me too much to wish me to be sick. Whereupon they all shouted at once, "It is so; it is so."

After a few days I was able to walk again a little; and I went and lived in the forest, where I suffered less from the heat than in our little houses.

How sorry I often felt that these kind-hearted negroes were given to superstitions which led them to commit the most horrid cruelties. A little boy, about ten years old, had been accused of sorcery. On being examined, he confessed that he had made a witch. Thereupon the whole town seemed to be seized with the ferocity of devils. They took spears and knives, and actually cut the poor little fellow to pieces. I had been walking out, and returned just as the dreadful scene was over. I could not even make the wretched people feel shame at their bloody act. They were still frantic with rage at the thought that this little fellow had made a witch to kill some of them; and they were not quiet for some hours after.

I felt so badly that I went into the woods and took the path that led to the village of Npopo, which was not far distant from N'calai Boumba. I wanted to see if the men had returned; I wanted to see Aguailai, the chief. He was the doctor who had come to Goumbi to drive off the aniemba. When I went down to Npopo the first time I found the people all gone into the bush. Everything was open and exposed to thieves; chickens and goats were walking about; and I wondered to see such carelessness in the village. But in the centre, looking down on everything, stood the mbuiti, or god of Npopo, a copper-eyed divinity, who, I was informed, safely guarded everything. It seemed absurd; but I was assured that no one dared steal, and no one did steal, with the eyes of this mbuiti upon him.

This uncommonly useful idol was a rudely-shaped piece of ebony, about two feet high, with a man's face, the nose and eyes of copper, and the body covered with grass.

At last we started for the ebony woods. Our new location was about nine miles from the river, on the side of a long hill, and close by where a cool sparkling rivulet leaped from rock to rock down into the plain, making the pleasantest of music for me as I lay, weak and sick, in the camp. Five huge ebony trees lifted their crowned heads together in a little knot just above us. All around were pleasant and shady woods. It was a very pleasant camp, but proved to have one drawback – we nearly starved to death. I sent out the hunters immediately on our arrival. They were gone two days, but brought back nothing. Game was very scarce there; and, without an ashinga, or net, such as many Bakalai villages have, not much was to be got.