CHAPTER NINE.
IN WHICH A SAVAGE CHIEF ASTONISHES A SAVAGE ANIMAL.
There is something exceedingly pleasant in the act of watching--ourselves unseen--the proceedings of some one whose aims and ends appearto be very mysterious. There is such a wide field of speculation openedup in which to expatiate, such a vast amount of curious, we had almostsaid romantic, expectation created; all the more if the individual whomwe observe be a savage, clothed in an unfamiliar and very scanty garb,and surrounded by scenery and circumstances which, albeit strange to us,are evidently by no means new to him.
Let us--you and me, reader,--quitting for a time the sad subject ofslavery, and leaping, as we are privileged to do, far ahead of ourexplorers Harold Seadrift and his company, into the region of CentralAfrica; let you and me take up a position in a clump of trees by thebanks of yonder stream, and watch the proceedings of that negro--negrochief let me say, for he looks like one,--who is engaged in somemysterious enterprise under the shade of a huge baobab tree.
The chief is a fine, stately, well-developed specimen of Africanmanhood. He is clothed in black tights manufactured in nature's loom,in addition to which he wears round his loins a small scrap ofartificial cotton cloth. If an enthusiastic member of the Royal Academywere in search of a model which should combine the strength of Herculeswith the grace of Apollo, he could not find a better than the man beforeus, for, you will observe, the more objectionable points about _our_ideal of the negro are not very prominent in him. His lips are notthicker than the lips of many a roast-beef-loving John Bull. His noseis not flat, and his heels do not protrude unnecessarily. True, hishair is woolly, but that is scarcely a blemish. It might almost beregarded as the crisp and curly hair that surrounds a manly skull. Hisskin is black--no doubt about that, but then it is _intensely_ black andglossy, suggestive of black satin, and having no savour of thatdirtiness which is inseparably connected with whitey-brown. Tribes inAfrica differ materially in many respects, physically and mentally, justas do the various tribes of Europe.
This chief, as we have hinted, is a "savage;" that is to say, he differsin many habits and points from "civilised" people. Among otherpeculiarities, he clothes himself and his family in the fashion that isbest suited to the warm climate in which he dwells. This display ofwisdom is, as you know, somewhat rare among civilised people, as any onemay perceive who observes how these over-clothe the upper parts of theirchildren, and leave their tender little lower limbs exposed to therigours of northern latitudes, while, as if to make up for thisinconsistency by an inconsistent counterpoise, they swathe their owntough and mature limbs in thick flannel from head to foot.
It is however simple justice to civilised people to add here that a fewof them, such as a portion of the Scottish Highlanders, are consistentinasmuch as the men clothe themselves similarly to the children.
Moreover, our chief, being a savage, takes daily a sufficient amount offresh air and exercise, which nine-tenths of civilised men refrain fromdoing, on the economic and wise principle, apparently, that engrossingand unnatural devotion to the acquisition of wealth, fame, or knowledge,will enable them at last to spend a few paralytic years in the enjoymentof their gains. No doubt civilised people have the trifling littledrawback of innumerable ills, to which they say (erroneously, we think)that flesh is heir, and for the cure of which much of their wealth isspent in supporting an army of doctors. Savages know nothing ofindigestion, and in Central Africa they have no medical men.
There is yet another difference which we may point out: savages have noliterature. They cannot read or write therefore, and have no permanentrecords of the deeds of their forefathers. Neither have they anyreligion worthy of the name. This is indeed a serious evil, one whichcivilised people of course deplore, yet, strange to say, one whichconsistency prevents some civilised people from remedying in the case ofAfrican savages, for it would be absurdly inconsistent in ArabMohammedans to teach the negroes letters and the doctrines of theirfaith with one hand, while with the other they lashed them to death ordragged them into perpetual slavery; and it would be equallyinconsistent in Portuguese Christians to teach the negroes to read"Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so tothem," while "domestic slavery" is, in their so-called Africanterritories, claimed as a right and the traffic connected with itsanctioned.
Yes, there are many points of difference between civilised people andsavages, and we think it right to point this out very clearly, goodreader, because the man at whom you and I are looking just now is asavage.
Of course, being capable of reading this book, you are too old torequire to be told that there is nothing of our _nursery_ savage abouthim. That peculiar abortion was born and bred in the nursery, anddwells only there, and was never heard of beyond civilised lands--although something not unlike him, alas! may be seen here and thereamong the lanes and purlieus where our drunkards and profligates resort.No; our savage chief does not roar, or glare, or chatter, or devour hisfood in its blood like the giant of the famous Jack. He carries himselflike a man, and a remarkably handsome man too, with his body firm andupright, and his head bent a little forward, with his eyes fixed on theground, as if in meditation, while he walks along.
But a truce to digressive explanation. Let us follow him.
Reaching the banks of the river, he stops, and, standing in an attitudeworthy of Apollo, though he is not aware that we are looking at him,gazes first up the stream and then down. This done, he looks across,after which he tries to penetrate the depths of the water with his eye.
As no visible result follows, he wisely gives up staring and wishing,and apparently resolves to attain his ends by action. Felling a smalltree, about as thick as his thigh, with an iron hatchet he cuts off it alength of about six feet. Into one end of this he drives asharp-pointed hard-wood spike, several inches long, and to the other endattaches a stout rope made of the fibrous husk of the cocoa-nut. Thepoint of the spike he appears to anoint--probably a charm of somekind,--and then suspends the curious instrument over a forked stick at aconsiderable height from the ground, to which he fastens the other endof the rope. This done, he walks quietly away with an air of as muchself-satisfaction as if he had just performed a generous deed.
Well, is that all? Nay, if that were all we should owe you a humbleapology. Our chief, "savage" though he be, is not insane. He _has_ anobject in view--which is more than can be said of everybody.
He has not been long gone, an hour or two, when the smooth surface ofthe river is broken in several places, and out burst two or three headsof hippopotami. Although, according to Disco Lillihammer, thepersonification of ugliness, these creatures do not the less enjoy theirexistence. They roll about in the stream like puncheons, dive under oneanother playfully, sending huge waves to the banks on either side. Theygape hideously with their tremendous jaws, which look as though they hadbeen split much too far back in the head by a rude hatchet--the tops ofall the teeth having apparently been lopped off by the same clumsy blow.They laugh too, with a demoniacal "Ha! ha! ha!" as if they rejoiced intheir excessive plainness, and knew that we--you and I, reader--areregarding them with disgust, not unmingled with awe.
Presently one of the herd betakes himself to the land. He is tired ofplay, and means to feed. Grass appears to be his only food, and toprocure this he must needs go back from the river a short way, hisenormous lips, like an animated mowing-machine, cutting a track of shortcropped grass as he waddles along.
The form of that part of the bank is such that he is at least inclined,if not constrained, to pass directly under the suspended beam. Ha! weunderstand the matter now. Most people do understand, when a thingbecomes obviously plain. The hippopotamus wants grass for supper; the"savage" chief wants hippopotamus. Both set about arranging their plansfor their respective ends. The hippopotamus passes close to the forkedstick, and touches the cord which sustains it in air like the sword ofDamocles. Down comes the beam, driving the spike deep into his back. Acry follows,
something between a grunt, a squeak, and a yell, and thewounded animal falls, rolls over, jumps up, with unexpected agility forsuch a sluggish, unwieldy creature, and rumbles, rushes, rolls, andstumbles back into the river, where his relatives take to flight inmortal terror. The unfortunate beast might perhaps recover from thewound, were it not that the spike has been tipped with poison. Theresult is that he dies in about an hour. Not long afterwards the chiefreturns with a band of his followers, who, being experts in the use ofthe knife and hatchet, soon make mince-meat of their game--laden withwhich they return in triumph to their homes.
Let us follow them thither.