Chapter III.—Continued.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 106, 8 May 1875, Page 6

Chapter 111. — Continued.

The next day a solemn, -visit is paid to the funeral pile. If the flour has disappeared, it is supposed that the death has arisen from natural causes, and all the neighbours are invited to a great feast. If, on the contrary, the flour is found untouched, the death is attributed to sorcery. In this case, the family flies to arms to seek out and punish the guilty one. Should the deceased belong to a powerful family, -war is instantly declared throughout the land. This superstition is carried to such an extent, that I have 'known whole villages depopulated in. consequence. But I have never been able to ascertain the reason or origin of this wide spread belief. What I have told you will give you some idea of the state of nay country, where, unfortunately, they hare no notion of Grod. But this is not all, as you are about to hear. It is supposed that a being called Zime inhabits our forests. This Zime is a malevolent spirit who devours people, and inflcts horrible sufferings and terrible diseases on those who pass by his dwelling without making him some offering. This creature is believed to be passionately fond of mtisic. If the person attacked by him has the courage to sing or to beat a drum, he begins to dance ; his head, arms, and legs become separated, his eyes drop out of his head, and every member of his body dances by itself. But when morning comes, at the first dawn of day these members are reunited and the Zime disappears. We will interrupt for a moment Suema's story to speak of these ridiculous and cruel superstitions, which extend all over Africa, and of which women and young girls are the favourite victims. In his journey to discover the sources of the Nile, Captain Speke gives the following account of them : — " Being on a visit to Bumanika, the king of Karague, I ventured to ask him why, having no idea of God or a future life, he offered up a cow every year on the tomb of his father. "I do not know," he replied, laughing ; " but I think by so doing I shall get a better harvest. For the same reason I place on one of the great stones of tlie mountain a certain quantity of grain and pombe,* altough I know well that the mountain itself is incapable of eating or drinking. But all the people on the coast, and as far as I know all the natives, practise the same rites. There is not an African who does not believe in the power of evil spirits, magic, and talismans. When I am leading my troops to war, I should retreat immediately if I heard a fox bark. Such a sound would be a certain prognostic of defeat. But there are many other animals and birds of good or bad augury which must be consulted." • * A kind of beer peculiar to the country. Such "are the superstitions still practised by the pagan world of to-day as in ancient times. The devil neither changes his tactics nor grows old. But as to the cruelty which is the result, let us listen once more to the words of the celebrated traveller whom we have before quoted. "It is now some time since I have been living in the same house as the king of Ouganda, and, consequently, the ways of the

court are well known to me. Will you believe it when I affirm that not one single day has passed without my seeing one and sometimes two or three of the unhappy girls put to death, who form the harem of Mtesa ? With a' cord round their wrist, dragged on by the guards who are leading them to, the place of execution, these poor children, sobbing and weeping, uttor the most piteous cries, which are really enough to break one's heart : ' Sai Minange' (O, my lord) ! ' Mkama' (My king) ! ' Sai N'yavtio' (O, my mother) ! " But in spite of these heart rending appeals to public sympathy, not a voice or a hand is lifted up to save them from their terrible fate; although here and there one overhears an eye-witness praising the beauty of these young victims in a low voice, and lamenting their being sacrificed to I know not what horrible superstition or vengence." But to return to Suema' s narrative. My father was very brave, and was considered the best shot in our village. Our larder was well stocked with game all the year round. As he also often went out elephant-hunting, he used to bring back the ivory tusks, which he sold to the caravans, who gave us in exchange all that we required for the comfort and convenience of life. My mother and elder sisters were covered with glass ornaments, and wore stuffs which came from beyond the seas. I had also ornaments of the same sort ; but they were my only clothing. As you •will believe by what I have already said, my childhood was intensely happy, and I knew of nothing but its pleasures. In the morning, my father and his friends went out hunting ; my mother and sisters worked in the garden ; but I was left to keep the sheep round the house, which .1 liked very much. I had several girls of my own age as companions, and we used to sing together like so many little birds. So the time passed, only too quickly; and my sole joy at the coming of evening arose from the fact that it brought about the return of my father. How delighted I used to be when I first caught sight of him, laden with the spoils of the chase and proud of the success which always attended him ! I used to throw my arms round his neck and cover him with kisses, whilst my sisters lit the fire in the middle of the hut. In a few moments the branches crackled in the flames, and whole quarters of venison were turning on the spit above the embers. Then they put on a great saucepan of ugali to boil j while huge jars of pombe, which had been previously prepared, were quickly emptied of their contents. We had almost always salt jx> give flavour to ovlv food; for when the caravans failed to bring us any, my father knew where to get some elsewhere. As he was well acquainted with all the neighbouring woods, he knew likewise the spots where the high grass-grew, the ashes of which, when burnt, make salt. He used to bring us, now and then, great bags full of these ashes, and then you should have seen how we all set to work. I used to run and fetch the wood, ray sisters the water, and then one of them washed the ashes and passed the water through a linen cloth which served as a sieve. My mother used to boil this water all day, and in the evening we found the saline deposit. For, you know, salt is a great rarity with us, and it is not everyone who can get it. I was so intensely happy during my childhood, that very often, when I went to the river to draw water, I used to hear the children of oar neighbours say : ' There is that happy little Suema, who has meat and salt to eat every day.' I used to feel proud at hearing these words, for they did honour to my father. Again, others would say when I passed : 'Look at that little Suema, so clean and nice, and with her hair so well plaited.' This compliment also delighted me., for it was in praise of my mother, Ah, why did these happy days come so quickly to an end ? At these words, poor Suema, overcome by her feelings and with her eyes full of tears, stopped for a moment ; and then resumed, turning to the Sisters : ' O, you, who now are my only sisters and mother, till this moment I have shown you only the bright side of my lif e ; you will now hear of the terrible events which in a moment changed my existence, and was the beginning of all my miseries.' We will once more interrupt Suema's narrative, to tell our readers, that although keeping sheep is the habitual occupation of the negro girls when children, few are so happily situated as she was. One of her companions thus describes her fate when stolen by a gelabo, and sold to an accomplice even worse than himself : ' The gelabo sold me to another, who beat me all day long and hardly gave me anything to eat. He sent me to keep the sheep. Whilst guarding them, I heard the roar of the wild beasts, tigers, and lions, which abounded in the forests, and used to shake all over Avith fear, thinking that these creatures would come and eat me up. Hunger had made me very weak, and I shuddered at the thought of falling alive into the claws of these animals, which I saw at a, distance. One had a long bushy tail ; another had hands and arms like a man ; and then I, with my little legs, could not even run after my sheep, who would always go and eat the grass of another master. Mine, seeing on one occasion that I did not come back with my sheep, came to look for me, and beat me so fearfully with a great stick that I was no longer able to crawl to the field ; so that he sold me to another.' Can one imagine a little creature thus tortured ? But to return to Sue* ma's narrative. My father one day made an arrangement with our neighbours to have a great battau of the smaller or ground game. With this object deep pits had been dug in the paths of the forest, and then covered over with branches of trees and grass. This being all prepared, the whole village turned out to join in the sport. This was the first time that I had been allowed to go to one of these battues, and I was in the seventh heaven of delight ; no one apprehended the least danger. When we got to the wood we formed a kind of chain round it, keeping a short distance from each other, and narrowing the circle as we walked, crying .md shouting to frighten

the game and drive it all to one spot. The principal sportsmen, armed with lances and bows and arrows, walked in front of us ; the others, scattered in the wood, behind the traps, were stationed so as to cut off the retreat of those which should escape from the main body. ( After a time we arrived nearly at the centre of the wood which was to be the great field of operations. A thicket, densely tangled, separated us from the line of traps. The sportsmen gathered closer round it, while we shouted louder and louder every moment. I was walking by the side of my mother a"nd sisters. A few steps in front of us stood my father, with his arrow fixed on the string, ready to draw it at the first sight of the game. The battue, as I have said, was to be on the edge of this thicket, round which all were anxiously gathered. All of a sudden a terrible and most unexpected roar was heard. Every one stood as if petrified, and the cries of the battue were exchanged for the most profound silence. The echoes of the forest alone replied to the fearful roar of the lion. I seem still to see this terrible beast, with flaming eyes and bristling mane, beating the ground with his powerful tail, springing suddenly from the edge of the thicket. He came nearer and nearer to the hunters, who remained paralysed with fear. His oblique march brought him directly in front of us j but he turned aside from my father and stopped roady to spring on my sisters and myself. At the same moment he roared again, in a way to make one die of fright. My father understood in an instant the fearful danger with which we were threatened ; and feeling that there was not a moment to be lost, attacked the monster, to divert his attention. For the first time his arrows and his lance missed their aim. Then, drawing his great hunting knife, my poor father rushed on the lion, and with his powerful arms seized his tawny mane. The cries and roars on both, sides, combined with the fright, had so frozen the very blood in my veins, that I could no longer see clearly what happened. All I can recollect is a fearful struggle, a rush of blood, a red mass rolling on the ground, and then the whole disappearing once more in the forest. The awful struggle had been so short that not one of the hunters had been able to come to my poor father's assistance. And then — O, then we poor little orphans sat on the ground, sobbing by the side of our mother, who was stupified with sorrow, on the earth which was red with our father's blood — that father so good and tender to us all, whe had been at once our protector and our sole support. To be continued.