Those participating then go to the river to wash, and the chief mourners paint part of their bodies with an ash-colored soil. Word has been sent to the friends and neighbors and the wailing proper begins. Men with assegais, axes, or guns walk back and forth crying "Mawe"; the women surround the grave, wailing and uttering various lamentations, such as "My friend." "The father of Apuleni." A wife will have on her head the deceased's hat; another will be carrying his assegai with the point bent; another his stool. All this time the son remained quietly weeping, taking no part in the heathen demonstrations.
An important part of the Batonga funeral is the sacrifice of animals, cattle, sheep, and goats. They think these have souls and accompany the deceased. The number killed depends upon the rank and the wealth of the one who died, although not all the animals sacrificed are his property.
Relatives often bring of their own herds for the purpose. Some of the poorer class may have only one animal and small children none. At the grave of the murdered chief they sacrificed eight head of cattle; at that of another chief, a little farther away, there were twenty-two killed. The meat of these animals is eaten by the mourners. At the funeral which we have just described the man was poor. One of the relatives slew a goat, and an ox of the deceased also was killed. Later in the day, as the people began to assemble for the general mourning, several young men came leading an ox for sacrifice. They were decked out in a most fantastic manner, with pieces of bright-colored cloth and various colored paper cut in ribbons. As they arrived near the scene they made a rush for the grave, brandishing their weapons fiercely and seeming to fight the very powers of darkness.
One day Sister Taylor and I were present at the funeral of the daughter of a chief. She was already buried when we reached the place and two oxen had been killed. We had no sooner spoken to her parents and sat down than a number of cattle were driven into the enclosure, between the huts. An old native raised his spear and aimed at one of the cattle. The rest were at once driven out while that one staggered and fell. A woman stepped to the grave and loudly called to the dead that the animal was slain and its spirit was coming. It was a sickening sight. The wailing continued, and some of the people would run around the huts in a wild, scared manner, as if they were fighting something. The air is to them peopled with malevolent spirits, seeking to do them harm, and they must ward them off. If one is dying they often beat their tomtoms in a furious manner to ward off danger. Heathen death and burial is a sad thing. It must be seen to know how terrible it really is. The warlike Baila were accustomed formerly to sacrifice any one of another tribe who happened to be in the neighborhood at the death of a chief, for all strangers were enemies, and Gomo said he saw four or five human skulls on a tree as he approached one of their huts. The wailing is kept up for several days, especially at night, for it would seem that darkness adds to their terror of the evil spirits.
We have often endeavored to show them the folly of some of their beliefs, and of course the Christians take no part with them. Even many of the older people are losing faith in some of these things, but are continuing to keep up appearances for fear of the rest. The chief near us says he is not going to sacrifice any more cattle; he will keep them and train them for oxen.
Some are very eager to have white cloth in connection with burial, and one old man at some distance north of us, who has a son in Bulawayo, desired us to write to the son, telling him to bring him a white shroud for burial. Whether this idea has come in through the white man I am unable to say, but it has probably come through some natives who have been to the towns to work and there learned something of Christian burial. Among some half-civilized natives in some parts of Africa, the idea prevails that if one is put in a coffin, and has a Christian burial, he will go to heaven.
There is also a second and sometimes a third wailing, consisting of a beer drink and a dance. This too is generally held at night. The friends and relatives come together and the half-intoxicated mourners engage in singing and dancing. The actions are most lewd and disgusting, for these are often genuine carousals of the basest sort; but they are most religiously engaged in, and people who believe that the departed spirits have such power over the living, are loath to ignore any established worship of such spirits.
_Shikazwa_ is the messenger of witches and is supposed to bring harm, sickness, or death to its enemies. This class of spirits they say never dwells in a human body. They are always disembodied spirits and mediums.
The belief in witchcraft and transmigration of souls is similar to that of the Matabele and need not be repeated. The native, too, has firm belief in the efficacy of charms to ward off sickness or accidents and to bring good fortune, and the dispensers of these articles do a thriving business.
There are various other beliefs in the possession of spirits, which are not very well understood, and some of them seem to be comparatively new, even among the natives themselves. While I was in Natal, in 1910, a missionary was telling me of a difficulty they were encountering among the native girls. They became possessed with an affliction not unlike hysterics, and when it was started in a neighborhood it spread rapidly even among half-civilized natives. I say hysterics, because this lady was enabled to check its advance by punishing the first one who was afflicted in that way in her school. I had never witnessed anything of the sort among natives until my return to Macha in that same year. One day, while out kraal-visiting, I was surprised to see something of the same nature. They tried to keep the actions of the young woman, who was afflicted, from my notice, and hurriedly attempted to quiet her by silly remedies. When I inquired what was the matter, they quickly replied, "Nothing." The boy accompanying me said it was demon possession. This has spread over the country among the girls and young women. The natives called it _Masabi_. The older people do not care to mention it or, if they do, it is in sort of an apologetic manner. They claim that the spirit of some bird or other animal enters the person and causes her to act so strangely. The usual remedy resorted to is to beat the tomtoms to drive away the spirit. They claim that the so-called possession is comparatively new in the country, and that it came from a tribe northeast of Macha.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A Few of Their Customs
The Batonga are very dark in color, although not always black. Their features are regular and well formed, and the people are intelligent looking. Some of them are large, but as a tribe they are not as powerfully built as the Matabele. Their tribal mark amounts to almost a deformity. When a boy (or girl) is about fourteen years of age, he is taken to the native dentist. The head is put on the ground and held in place while the dentist with a blunt instrument knocks out the front upper teeth, usually four, sometimes six in number. The gums and lips become much swollen and inflamed by this barbarous procedure; but in time they heal, and the child is a Mutonga or Mwila, and this deformity proclaims his tribe wherever he goes.
The natives never care to have the process repeated. Other natives often go to their missionaries to have teeth extracted, but the Batonga seldom or never do. They prefer the suffering which comes from neuralgia or toothache. This barbarous custom, like many others, has nearly had its day, and many of the boys have already rebelled since they have come into contact with other natives or Europeans. It will require more time for the girls to break away from it, as they live more secluded lives, and have developed less independence of character than their brothers.
A mother will tell her daughter that it is a shame for a woman to have upper front teeth. She should be like the cow.
They are all very fond of grease for their bodies, either animal fat or butter; and in this hot, dry climate this is not so objectionable, if they use it in moderation, by simply oiling the body to prevent the skin from cracking. Many of the women, however, use the grease to excess.
They grind red ochre and, mixing it with the grease, paint their bodies, including their hair, red, which is their idea of beauty. In this perhaps they are more excusable than some others. Clay often is used in dressing their hair, and buttons, beads, and shell are sewed to their hair, as ornaments.
The men too take great pride in dressing their hair, and in this respect generally surpass the women. They shave part of the head and let the hair about the crown and back of the head grow long. This they straighten out, and it looks not unlike strings hanging from the back of the head. This is carried to extremes among the Baila. There the dude lets his hair grow and then goes to the hair-dresser who, with grease, hair, and other materials, builds it up into a chignon on the top of his head. With some, this chignon is only five or six inches long, but in the interior of the tribe it is said to be sometimes three feet in length. Brother Steigerwald on his trip north saw some of these long ones. Of course the head cannot help lying uneasy with such a weight.
[Illustration: Batonga Village with the Cattle Pens in the Foreground.]
Among these people the clan, or perhaps I should say the kinsfolk, forms the unit. They all are closely bound together and each one more or less responsible for the others of his relatives. In marriage, death, sickness, or trouble, all are concerned in the affair. When difficulty arises the heads of each clan listen to the affair and settle the dispute. Perhaps the persons most interested may have no opportunity of expressing an opinion, especially if they be younger and unimportant members of the families.
An unfortunate accident occurred among some boys and one lost an eye.
The one who caused the loss was not more to blame than the one who suffered the loss. It was purely accidental and without malice, and all who were spectators so regarded it. The one who suffered the loss desired that no attention be paid to the affair, but the father and elder relatives thought differently. They called a meeting of the heads of the two clans and discussed the affair with great deliberation, and in a most dignified and respectful manner. The boys were not consulted and there was nothing said in reference to its being an accident. An eye was lost and it must be paid for, and their custom is to require the one causing the loss to give all his property. In this instance the boy considered at fault was young and his father was dead, and all his property was three head of cattle and a sheep. His relatives said these animals would be given; but the other boy's father said, "No, that is not sufficient. I will accept them, but the affair will not be settled.
When he acquires more property, I will take that also." This was what the deliberations hinged on. The faulty one would be unable to secure any more property; it would all be taken away from him, so his elders were willing to give what the boy had, only on condition that that would end the matter. It could not be settled that day, but later the other party agreed to take that and consider the affair settled.
[Illustration: Cattle Pen of the Batonga.]
A little fire often kindles a great conflagration among them. Once a murderer was taken through our premises on his way to the magistrate. He had come from a distance and the difficulty was something like this: A native had a needle, and his neighbor borrowed it and lost it. The owner of the needle demanded and received an ox in pay. Some time afterward the borrower found the needle, and bringing it back to the owner wanted his ox back, but the ox was dead. The trouble finally resulted in murder.
In marriage the question of kinship also is prominent. Marriage is not merely the union of two people, or even two immediate families, but of two clans, and the prominent members of both must be consulted. If a man sees a girl whom he wishes to make his wife, he first consults his parents, and if there is any objection among his relatives the matter is dropped. If, however, they are satisfied, his mother goes to the mother of the girl and asks for her daughter. If the immediate relatives of the girl object a negative answer is given. If they look with favor on the proposed alliance, they consult the other prominent relatives, which may require considerable time. Some one may object because a relative of the proposed groom quarreled a great deal with his wife, or some one may affirm that he is lazy. Trouble that has arisen between the clans in the past, such as that relating to the boy's eye, may be a formidable obstacle, although the parties concerned may have had nothing to do with the accident or the settlement of it. If all are agreed, well and good.
All this time the bride has had no voice in the affair and generally does not know what is transpiring.
[Illustration: A Batonga Family Traveling.]
Betrothal among these people may take place when the girl is quite young, but generally not until the girl is from 14 to 18 years of age, and then it is of short duration, as marriage follows soon after it is found that all the relatives agree. The old people, especially the mothers, take the affair in hand, the interested parties merely following their instructions. The groom is told to be ready. Perhaps he has been looking forward and gathering together the _kukwa_ (pay or dowry) for the occasion. He has been buying hoes, from ten to twenty of them, for these are always a necessary part of the pay, probably because they are all farmers and the native-made hoes always command a good price. In addition to these, he procures a lot of cloth, beads, money, and some assegais. He freely calls on his relatives and friends to assist him in procuring the needed pay, for they have had some choice in the affair. The day is appointed for the wedding, but before this arrives the girl is informed who is to be her husband. She may or may not be pleased; her choice in the matter is wholly ignored. She has been trained all her life to obey, to keep herself hid, and has very little freedom until after marriage. Should she even be pleased with the choice, she is expected for modesty's sake to protest and cry out and struggle and declare she will not submit.
The mother of the bridegroom takes the pay and goes to the house of the bride, the groom and his best man following. They put up a booth near the kraal of the bride for the groom to occupy. We enter the village and find the relatives of the bride, from far and near, assembled for the wedding, for all these expect to receive some of the pay. The women and the girls gather and begin to sing the marriage song, the tune of which is always the same, but the words are improvised for the occasion. One of the older ones will lead off and say, "This girl is going to be married," and the rest will assent by singing in unison, again, "We shall receive some hoes, so that we may dig our gardens," and again the response. All this is done in a monotonous but not altogether unmusical manner. Another will take up the lead, and a day or two will be consumed in this way until everything that can be thought of in reference to marriage, good, bad, and indifferent, is repeated in song. The bride, however, is not among the singers. We pass through the village and a young woman beckons us to enter a hut. The other women greet us, but our guide with a smile mysteriously leads us into an inner chamber. Here is a young woman, greased from head to foot, so much so that the grease drips from her body. A blanket is thrown around her and over her head, and she keeps her eyes down in a miserable-looking fashion, as if she were crying or pouting, and never by the least sign acknowledges our presence. We are new to the situation, but it suddenly dawns upon us that this is the bride. We inquire, "What is the trouble? Does she not wish to be married?" "Oh, yes," is the answer, "but she must be sad because she is a bride."
[Illustration: Native Women--Widows.]
In the afternoon the relatives gather around the hut of the groom to receive their presents, and each makes a choice. Of course they are expected to be reasonable in their demands, because sometimes there are forty persons to receive presents. The father or men nearly related to the bride may take more liberty; one or two sometimes demand ten shillings. While the best man is trying to satisfy all these demands, the groom is often berated soundly by some, and even at times suffers bodily violence. If his supply of goods is reasonable in amount, so that nearly all are satisfied, the bride is given to him at once. If very few presents are on hand the proceedings may stop and he or his best man be obliged to go among his relatives and secure more money or goods. If he is slow in this, difficulties may arise between him and the girl's relatives until it come to blows. Not long ago a groom, about four miles from Macha, was so violently attacked that he died from the blows given. This is unusual at the present day, but it may have been more common formerly. Even if the wedding has passed off all right the girl does not at once go to cook for her husband; it may be several months or a year before they fit her out with earthen pots, baskets, and the like and she goes to housekeeping. In the meantime she is supposed to be so modest that she will not speak to her husband or lift her eyes in his presence. The modesty of the Batonga girls is in striking contrast with the behavior of many other African girls, and immorality does not seem as prevalent among the unmarried as in some other places.
Even the Baila girls are much bolder, both in looks and actions. If a girl is bold, and goes about alone, she may generally be conceded to be of an immoral character. When the bride is finally taken to the house of her husband, the father may demand a cow or two as additional pay. If the girl refuses to go, she often is carried by force. Sometimes the mother may refuse to have the girl leave home, and then the husband is obliged to live at the kraal of his parents-in-law. If he has two wives he often thus has two homes.
The groom must always show great respect for the wife's parents, and especially for her mother. When she appears on the scene, he must leave, if escape is possible; otherwise he must sit quietly, not lifting his eyes in the august presence of her who gave birth to his wife, so that the life of the native who lives in the same kraal with his mother-in-law is not a very pleasant one. When he meets his father-in-law he salutes him by clapping his hands, and the salutation is returned by the father-in-law tapping his chest with his right hand.
The husband may never call his wife by her maiden name, but he gives her a new one of his own.
[Illustration: Kabanzi Chief with His First Wife.]
The fact that the marriage is the concern of so many, and is so rigidly controlled by the elders, places many obstacles in the way of the missionaries. It is difficult for Christian boys many times to gain the hand of Christian girls, and for Christian girls to be given to Christian boys, as many of the older people object to their daughters entering the Christian clan. At present the missionary is not allowed to interfere in these native customs, and the girl has no recourse. Custom says she must obey her parents and relatives, and the law upholds custom. Being under such close supervision all her life, she has no opportunity of developing independence of thought and action like her brother. The missionaries are looking for better times, however, and ask that all who read these lines pray that the day may speedily come when the girls and boys may have more right of choice. We have reason to think that the day is dawning when this form of slavery will also be in the past.
[Illustration: Giving the Gospel in Macha Village.]
Again, the fact that kinship has such a hold upon the people, and each one is in a measure responsible for or dependent upon the rest, renders freedom of thought and action difficult among all. It tends to retard development of character and makes evangelization difficult among them.
It does not interfere to the extent that caste does in India, but it is by no means a negligible quantity. This and blind custom form pretty strong bands, for the native does not like to stand alone or be odd from his fellows. When the Gospel is given to the people they may appear to listen attentively and outwardly accept what is said, but try to press home the question to individual hearts and the leader will answer for all, "Yes, we are all Christians. We accept what you say. Our hearts are white toward God." One who understands the native character cannot avoid being skeptical when he hears of entire tribes turning to the Lord. They may in outward form, for what is popular with the leaders is popular with the crowd. It is easy for them to put on the form of Christianity and go through all the ceremonies of it, but with how many there is a change of heart remains to be seen by the lives they lead.
The Batonga do not build as good huts as the Matabele, nor do they put in a polished floor; perhaps, because the ants are so numerous in this part of the country, the hut soon falls to pieces and must be rebuilt, even though they may have built it carefully at first. Their presence also may account for the Batonga making bedsteads and chairs, whereas the Matabele do not. Their huts too are not only the home of the people, but at night, goats, a calf or two, dogs, and sometimes chickens are housed in the same hut, so that it would not be easy to keep a respectable-looking place. As their flocks increase they build separate huts for them, as everything must be well housed on account of wild animals.
In many other ways they differ from the Matabele. They do not have digging-bees like the Matabele; in fact, they do not call their neighbors together for any kind of work, except that the men assist one another in building. If they have a beer-drink it is a sociable gathering or a wailing. The beer is brought and always tasted first by the giver, to show that there is no poison in the cup. Each woman digs her own little garden alone, or with her children. When we entered the country the Matabele would not touch fish, the dislike being so great that it almost amounted to a taboo. Among these people fish is the staple article of diet. The only reason that seems plausible is that here there are many large rivers and fish are abundant, while in the other country there are none. These people do not kill twins, but they do the children that cut the upper teeth first. Eggs are tabooed to unmarried boys and girls, and a superstitious reason is given and strongly believed in by them; but back of it the object of the elders in enforcing the taboo seems to have been to prevent young Africans from robbing the nests and lessening the supply of chicks. There are many other taboos among the tribes which are strictly adhered to, the origin of which could easily be traced to expediency.
The Batonga will tell you that the assegai is the weapon of the man and the hoe of the woman. As one sees the men always armed with assegais, so the women generally carry a hoe; nor is it always just an ordinary hoe for digging. Her husband sometimes procures for her a dainty little hoe, having the handle beautifully ornamented with fine woven wire. This has no other use than to be carried with her as she goes on a journey or to a wailing, and she is very proud of it and nothing will induce her to part with it.
They have many forms of salutation, more than any other tribe of natives that I have met, some general and others special, for morning, noon, or night, and they are very punctilious about saluting, but never in a hurry. They greet not only the one they meet, but also inquire about his wife and children, especially the baby, and about what he eats, as well as other questions in general. If a number of persons are sitting down and another group approach, they too will be seated and perhaps a few general remarks may be made; then the salutation begins. Every one in the first group must individually greet everyone in the second group and ask about his health and receive an answer to the same. There is no confusion, no hurry. The native does not shake hands except as he has learned it from the white man; he greets only by word of mouth, or on special occasion by embracing.
A very pleasing incident in reference to one of the salutations, _lumela_ (rejoice), is given by Rev. Chapman, one of the pioneers of the Primitive Methodist Mission, and I give it in detail:
"One of these old men could still remember Dr. Livingstone's visit to Sekeletu, about 1855. The doctor was known among the Makololo as Monare.
When I showed the old man a photo of Dr. Livingstone he was greatly excited.
"'Yes,' said he, 'really and truly that is Monare's likeness. He wore a moustache just like that; it is indeed Monare.'
"'Can you really remember Monare?' I asked.
"'Of course I can,' said he. 'Why, it was Monare who brought us the salutation we generally use. Before Monare came we used to say, when we met a friend on the path, "_Utshohile_" ["You have got up"]. But when Monare came he said, "_Lumela_" ["Rejoice"], and we replied, "_E Lumela ntate_" ["Yes, rejoice, my father"]. Why, it was he who told the Makololo to live in peace, and rule their people well. See how white my beard is? Of course I can remember Monare.'"
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Later Years