NormalizeHEADmain

10 files changed, 17 insertions, 6656 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7b82bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+*.txt text eol=lf
+*.htm text eol=lf
+*.html text eol=lf
+*.md text eol=lf
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9c59b1a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #67371 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67371)
diff --git a/old/67371-0.txt b/old/67371-0.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index d336134..0000000
--- a/old/67371-0.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,3023 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bokwala, by A Congo Resident
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Bokwala
-       The Story of a Congo Victim
-
-Authors: A Congo Resident
-         H. Grattan Guinness
-
-Release Date: February 10, 2022 [eBook #67371]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading
-             Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
-             images generously made available by The Internet
-             Archive/American Libraries.)
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOKWALA ***
-
-
-
-
-
-                                BOKWALA
-                      THE STORY OF A CONGO VICTIM
-
-
-                                   BY
-                            A CONGO RESIDENT
-
-                           WITH A PREFACE BY
-                       H. GRATTAN GUINNESS, M.D.
-
-
-                                 LONDON
-                      THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY
-            4 BOUVERIE ST. & 65 ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD, E.C.
-                                  1910
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE
-
-
-Having personally visited the Upper Congo in the days preceding the
-establishment of the notorious rubber régime, and being intimately
-acquainted with the conditions of native life which then obtained, I
-have watched with profoundest pity and indignation the development of
-Congo slavery. Old-time conditions of savage barbarity were awful, but
-it has been reserved for so-called “Christian Civilisation” to
-introduce the system of atrocious oppression and hopeless despair under
-which, during the last fifteen years, millions of helpless natives have
-perished directly or indirectly, for whose protection Great Britain and
-the United States of America have special responsibility before God and
-men.
-
-It is particularly appropriate that in this moment of Congo crisis
-these pages should render articulate the voice of a Congo victim.
-Bokwala tells his own story, thanks to the clever and sympathetic
-interpretation of a gifted and experienced resident on the Congo. And a
-touching story it is, told with admirable directness and simplicity,
-truthfulness and restraint.
-
-I heartily commend the book to all who are interested in the greatest
-humanitarian issue which has appealed to us during the last thirty
-years, and to those also who as yet know little or nothing of the Congo
-Iniquity.
-
-
-    H. GRATTAN GUINNESS, M.D.
-
-    Acting-Director of The Regions Beyond Missionary Union.
-
-    Harley House, Bow, London, E.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-O Lord, how long shall I cry, and Thou wilt not hear! even cry unto
-Thee out of violence, and Thou wilt not save!
-
-Why dost Thou shew me iniquity, and cause me to behold grievance? for
-spoiling and violence are before me: and there are that raise up strife
-and contention.
-
-Therefore the law is slacked, and judgment doth never go forth: for the
-wicked doth compass about the righteous, therefore wrong judgment
-proceedeth.
-
-
-
-Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on
-iniquity: wherefore lookest Thou on them that deal treacherously, and
-holdest Thy tongue when the wicked devoureth the man that is more
-righteous than he?
-
-                                               Habakkuk i. 2, 3, 4, 13.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-FOREWORD
-
-
-This story of Bokwala, a Congo victim, has been written in the belief
-that it will help the friends of the Congo native to see something of
-how Congo affairs appear when looked at from the standpoint of those
-whom they most nearly concern in their actual working, i.e., the Congo
-natives themselves.
-
-Bokwala’s story is the truth, and nothing but the truth. The whole
-truth, however, is written only in tears and blood wrung from the
-unfortunate people who are subjects of such treatment as is described
-in this book. Even if it were written with pen and ink, it could not be
-printed or circulated generally. No extreme case has been chosen, the
-story told has none of the very worst elements of Congo life in it; it
-is the life which has been lived by hundreds and thousands of Congo
-natives, and in great measure is being lived by them to-day.
-
-Now in July, 1909, while these words are being written, wrongs are
-taking place; men and women are being imprisoned for shortage in food
-taxes; messengers of white men are threatening, abusing, and striking
-innocent villagers; and constant demands are being made upon the people
-who find it impossible to supply such except at great expense to
-themselves, which they do not hesitate to incur rather than be tied up
-and go to prison.
-
-Changes there have been in the name and personnel of the
-administration: but no change in the system. We who live here and see
-what takes place pray that you at home may stand firm and not for one
-moment think that the battle is won. It is not won yet; and will not be
-until we see the changes actually worked out by reformers here on the
-Congo as surely as you see the proposals and promises of them on paper
-in Europe.
-
-If what is here recorded helps to bring about that happy state of
-things one day sooner than it would otherwise come, surely readers and
-writer will unite in praise to Him who alone is able to bring it to
-pass.
-
-
-    A CONGO RESIDENT.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
-                                                                   PAGE
-
-PREFACE BY DR. H. GRATTAN GUINNESS                                    5
-
-FOREWORD                                                              9
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-HOW WE ONCE LIVED                                                    15
-
-    My early days—Life at home—How we fared—Work and play—Our one fear,
-    the cannibals—Iseankótó’s warning—We despise it—We are captured by
-    cannibals—The journey—A horrible meal—The cannibal village reached.
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-I AM A CANNIBAL’S SLAVE                                              26
-
-    In the cannibal village—Before the council—Our fate—Desire to
-    please my master—How I succeeded—Our fears and their
-    justification—A sad company—Siene’s murder—The boy who lied—The
-    ordeal by poison—Village strife—The human peace-offering—The
-    haunting dread—Rumours of the white men—A fright—Makweke’s
-    peril—How he escaped—We plan flight—The start—The chase—A near
-    thing—The river reached—Over, and at home again.
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-THE COMING OF BOKAKALA                                               46
-
-    At home again—I choose a wife—How I went courting—And was
-    married—My visits to the white men—They talk of “one Jesus”—The
-    other white man, Bokakala—He wants rubber—We are eager to get
-    it—How rubber was collected—The rubber market—“We did not know.”
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE BEGINNING OF SORROWS                                             55
-
-    The coming of more white men—A change in our treatment—Things go
-    from bad to worse—I get tired of collecting rubber—And stay at
-    home—The white man’s anger and threats—I go to a palaver—My rubber
-    is short—I am whipped—The white man’s new plan—Forest guards—Their
-    oppression and greed—We report them to the white man—Results—But
-    the worst not yet.
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-OPPRESSION, SHAME, AND TORTURE                                       62
-
-    My new slavery—How our villagers fared at home—The white man’s
-    meat—How it was got—The white men of God and their pity—How the
-    women were enslaved—Feeding the idle—Endeavours to evade
-    oppression—Results—How would you like our conditions?—Forest
-    work—Its hardships—The day of reckoning—Back to the village and
-    home—An ominous silence—A sad discovery—Redeeming our wives—An
-    offending villager—A poor victim—A ghastly punishment—The woman’s
-    death—Another village—The monkey hunters—The old man who stayed at
-    home—How he was tortured—No redress.
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-SOME HORRORS OF OUR LOT                                              74
-
-    Our work grows harder—I consult the white man of God—A strange
-    contrast—My plea unavailing—My rubber short—I am sent to the
-    prison—The captives—Their work and their punishments—The sick—The
-    new-born babe—The dead and their burial—The suspected—How they were
-    tortured—The steamer—The rubber chief—The prison opened—A
-    procession of spectres—The place of the dead—For a time peace—Work
-    for the man of God—How we fared—My reward—I wish to go home.
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-BACK TO SLAVERY                                                      88
-
-    My welcome at home—My respite and its end—The forest sentry—The
-    little boy—My father’s appeal and its result—I intervene—The
-    sentry’s revenge—A rubber slave once more—I appeal to the man of
-    God—Disappointment—“Nothing but rubber till I die!”—The hopeless
-    toil—The coming of the pestilence—The witch-doctor’s medicine—The
-    desolation—But still the rubber!
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-OTHER CHANGES. HOPE DEFERRED                                         98
-
-    A change of labour—We become hunters—A new demand—And new
-    difficulties—Failure—The sentry’s demand—The old men’s
-    plea—Murder—We tell the men of God—And complain to the rubber
-    man—The white chief—The things written in a book—And no remedy
-    comes—Hunting again—The English visitor—The white woman—Results of
-    making complaints—The sentries’ threats—The one way of
-    escape—“Better to be with the hunters than the hunted”—Another
-    sorrow—The sleeping-sickness—“Just a little while, and they die”—We
-    cry to the white people.
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-THE ELDERS OF EUROPE                                                112
-
-    More white men from Europe—Fears and curiosity—The white men
-    inquire about us—We tell them of our state—And our oppressors—The
-    knotted strings and their story—“These things are bad”—The white
-    man’s promises—Better times—Soon ended—Rubber again—The old
-    toil—The men of the river—The demands on the villages—The chiefs in
-    power—Chiefs and the sentries—The death wail and the white man—“We
-    are very poor.”
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-THINGS WE WANT TO KNOW                                              121
-
-    My story is finished—The past and the present—Why are these things
-    so?—The old days—Now we are white men’s slaves—How long will it
-    last?—We are dying—Our only rest is death—How long, how long?
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-BOKWALA
-
-
-CHAPTER I
-
-HOW WE ONCE LIVED
-
-    My early days—Life at home—How we fared—Work and play—Our one fear,
-    the cannibals—Iseankótó’s warning—We despise it—We are captured by
-    cannibals—The journey—A horrible meal—The cannibal village reached.
-
-
-I have heard that there are many white people in Europe, both men and
-women, who feel compassion for us black men, and who would, if they
-knew more about us, take pity on us and save us from our sorrows and
-trials. So I am going to tell the story of my life, that they may know
-and help us.
-
-Long, long ago I was born in the village of Ekaka, and having lived so
-long I have seen many things, and who is better able to tell them than
-I? We have great controversy with the white people about our ages: they
-say I am about thirty years old, but of course I know better; and I say
-that I am about three thousand years old—which shows that white men do
-not know everything.
-
-My name is Bokwala, a slave. I do not know why my father and mother
-named me so; for I was a freeborn child. But afterwards I became a
-slave in truth, as I shall tell you, so then it suited me well.
-
-We lived all together very happily in my father’s compound. He was the
-chief of Ekaka, and had great authority; he had but to give an order,
-and at once the people would hurry to execute it. His own name was
-Mboyo, but he was always called Isek’okwala, after me, and in the same
-way my mother was called Yek’okwala. It is one of our customs to call
-the parents “father” or “mother” of Bokwala, or whatever the name of
-the child may be.
-
-My mother was my father’s favourite wife, but, being a chief, he had
-several others, and necessarily our compound was a large one.
-
-In the centre of one side of a large open space was the chief’s own
-house, and next to it the open house for talking palavers, feasting,
-&c. Then there were the houses of the women, one for each wife, where
-she lived with her own children, and other houses for slaves. As we
-boys grew older we built houses for ourselves in our father’s compound,
-and in time it grew to be almost like a small village.
-
-Those were good days, as far as we ourselves were concerned. We were
-free to do as we liked; if we quarrelled, we fought it out, and the
-strongest won; if we wanted meat or fish, we went to hunt in the
-forest, or to fish on the river, and soon had a plentiful supply; and
-in our gardens there was always as much vegetable food as we needed.
-
-Sometimes the women had quarrels amongst themselves, and then we had no
-peace for a time. They talked and talked, and scolded each other from
-morning till night, and almost from night till morning, and there was
-no sleep for any of us. Not even my father could put an end to these
-rows: for the time being the women were masters of the situation and of
-him. You see, the women provide us men with food, and if they are angry
-with a man they starve him, therefore what can he do? He justs waits,
-and by and by their anger is finished, and a time of peace ensues, and
-possibly a feast.
-
-I will tell you how we passed our days in the time of my childhood.
-Every one rose with the sun, for our people do not think it good to
-sleep late, and it did not take long to eat our morning meal of
-manioca, and anything which had been kept over from the night before.
-
-Then we began to scatter, some of the women to the large manioca
-gardens at some distance in the forest, and others to fish in the
-river. Sometimes they went fishing for a day only, at other times for
-as long as a month. The length of time and the kind of fishing depends
-on the season, whether the water is high or low, and what sort of fish
-are plentiful. Some of the men and boys would go out to hunt with their
-nets and spears, others would be busy making nets, canoes, paddles, and
-cooking utensils, or doing smithy work, making spears, knives, or
-ornaments for the women. The chief and elders of the village would
-gather in the large shed and talk palavers, hear and tell news, smoke
-and chat all day long.
-
-We children would fish, go for picnics in the near forest, bathe in the
-river, play games, quarrel and fight and make it up again, and return
-to our play until we felt hungry, when we made our way homewards to
-seek our mothers.
-
-Towards evening, when the sun was slipping down, the men would come in
-from the hunt, and the women from the gardens, from woodcutting in the
-forest, and water-drawing at the springs, and then the cooking would
-begin. All round us were women chatting, and little girls running
-errands and helping them in various ways.
-
-Some of the women would be making tökö (native bread) from the steeped
-manioca they had just brought from the river, and they were busy with
-pestle and mortar, pots and calabashes. Others were making banganju, a
-kind of pottage made of manioca leaves, palm nuts, and red peppers, and
-yet others preparing bosaka, or palm-oil chop.
-
-The animals killed in the hunt were first taken to my father to be
-divided by him, and soon the portions were given round to the women to
-be cooked, while we youngsters sat about waiting, talked and feasted on
-the appetising smells emitted from the various boiling pots.
-
-My mother sat and talked with my father; she did no cooking, as she was
-the favourite wife, and the others cooked for her. In the fruit season
-we might add our quota to the feast in the form of rubber and other
-fruits, or even caterpillars or palmerworms, and these were greatly
-enjoyed by all.
-
-When the food was ready the women brought it in hand-baskets to my
-father, who first helped himself to his share, and passed some to any
-visitors who might be with him, then he gave the rest to his wives, and
-each in turn divided it amongst her own children. The slaves were
-treated much the same as children when food was served out, they
-received their share.
-
-We had no plates or spoons then, as some of our people who work for the
-white men now have, leaves served for plates, and twisted into a scoop
-did equally well for spoons. The chief possessed his own carved ivory
-spoon, worked from a solid elephant’s tusk, but that was taboo for any
-but himself. Nowadays we may not work ivory for ourselves, we have to
-take it to the white men.
-
-As soon as we had all finished eating, and drinking spring water, some
-of us carefully gathered up all the leaves which we had used, and the
-peelings and cuttings of the food, and threw them away in the forest,
-lest some evil-disposed person should get hold of them and by means of
-them bewitch us. We are all very much afraid of witchcraft, unless we
-ourselves practise it; then, of course, it is for others to fear us.
-
-The meal finished and cleared away, and the leavings tied up to the
-roof to be served again to-morrow morning, we all gathered round the
-fires and the old men told stories of their prowess in hunting or in
-war, or retold to us young ones some of the legends and fables of our
-ancestors of long ago. Sometimes, on rare occasions, my father would
-sing to us the legend of Lianza, the ancient warrior and hero of our
-race. This story takes a long time to tell, and at frequent intervals
-the whole company would join in singing the choruses, with clapping of
-hands and great excitement.
-
-This lasted far into the night. And sometimes when the moon shone
-brightly we would sing and dance and play games, which we enjoyed
-greatly at the time, although they were not good games, and we
-generally had to suffer for them afterwards. On the following morning
-many of us were sick, our heads ached, and we were fit for nothing.
-
-We do not play these games so much now as we used to.
-
-There was just one thing we were always afraid of in those days, and
-that was an attack from our enemies who lived on the other side of the
-river. They were very bad people, so wicked that they even eat men whom
-they have killed in battle, or slaves whom they have taken prisoners or
-bought for the purpose. They were at that time much stronger than we
-were, and when they attacked us we always got the worst of it. So we
-dreaded them very much, more even than the wild animals of the forest.
-
-On a certain evening we were sitting talking after having finished our
-evening meal, and we began to make plans for a fishing expedition to
-the marsh near the river, and finally decided to start on the next day.
-
-We slept that night at home, and were awake betimes in the morning
-ready for an early start.
-
-There was a very old man in our village named Iseankótó, or the Father
-of Discernment. He had been a strong man and possessed great fame; but
-that was in the past, and now we did not pay much heed to his sayings.
-He called us together as soon as we were awake, and told us of a very
-vivid dream he had had during the night.
-
-It was this. We went to fish just as we had planned, but while we were
-there the cannibals came, attacked and overpowered us, and we were all
-either killed or taken prisoners. He besought us to lay aside our plans
-and stay at home that day, as he was certain that the dream was a
-warning to be disregarded at our peril.
-
-We were self-willed, however, and would not listen to advice, but
-rather ridiculed the warnings of old Iseankótó.
-
-“It is only a dream,” we said; “who cares for dreams?” and snatching a
-few mouthfuls of food we set off merrily, making fun of the old man as
-we went. What fools we were! And how we blamed ourselves and each other
-afterwards!
-
-Down the hill we went towards the river, singing, shouting, and
-skipping along, heedless of the danger into which we were running.
-Having reached the bottom of the hill, we made our way along the forest
-path which skirts the river bank, and ere long came to the place we had
-decided on visiting.
-
-Very soon we scattered and commenced work, and were just rejoicing to
-find that the fish were plentiful and we were likely to have a good lot
-to take home with us at night, when we were suddenly startled by a
-rustling in the bush close to us.
-
-Before we had time to realise what had happened, we were surrounded by
-numbers of fierce cannibal warriors who had been in hiding, waiting for
-a chance to pounce upon some defenceless party of a weaker tribe.
-
-We tried to fight them, but being almost without arms, we had no chance
-against these men who had come prepared for battle, and we were
-completely at their mercy. One or two slaves who went with us were
-killed, but the women and we boys and girls were tied together with
-strong creepers and taken prisoners.
-
-Our captors gathered up the corpses of the men they had killed, and
-compelled some of our number to carry them, and then we were ordered to
-march off with them. We kept a sharp look out for any opportunity to
-escape, but this was impossible as we were too well watched. We were
-taken across the river and away into the forest, in the depth of which
-we encamped just before the sun went down.
-
-During all that night we lay awake, weeping for our homes and friends,
-and more for ourselves, watching our enemies prepare fires, cut up the
-corpses of our friends, cook, and afterwards eat them; for to those
-people we are but nyáma (meat); and all the time we feared even to
-speak, lest we also should be deemed fit morsels for their evening
-meal.
-
-Early the next morning we were on the road again, and at last towards
-evening we arrived at Bosomo, the village of our captors, footsore and
-weary, and faint for want of food.
-
-Everything was strange to us. We could not even understand the language
-which we heard spoken, but we could guess that inquiries were being
-made as to the success of the expedition, and that we were being
-examined and scrutinised from head to foot as to our usefulness either
-as servants or as food.
-
-Some manioca was given to us by the women, and we were put all together
-in a large open shed, while some warriors acted as sentries lest we
-should escape. But there was no danger of that just then, we were far
-too tired, and in spite of our misery were soon fast asleep.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER II
-
-I AM A CANNIBAL’S SLAVE
-
-    In the cannibal village—Before the council—Our fate—Desire to
-    please my master—How I succeeded—Our fears and their
-    justification—A sad company—Siene’s murder—The boy who lied—The
-    ordeal by poison—Village strife—The human peace-offering—The
-    haunting dread—Rumours of the white men—A fright—Makweke’s
-    peril—How he escaped—We plan flight—The start—The chase—A near
-    thing—The river reached—Over, and at home again.
-
-
-When we awoke it was to find the sun already shining, for after the
-fight and long walk, in addition to the much talking of the night
-before, our new masters were as weary as ourselves.
-
-It was not long, however, before the whole village was astir and the
-morning meal eaten. We were glad to eat the manioca which had been
-given us the previous night, because now that we had rested we felt the
-pangs of hunger. Needless to say, we watched the people furtively to
-see what they did and what kind of mood they were in.
-
-We were surprised and amused to see that they washed their hands and
-faces in the dew which was on the plantain leaves, whilst they were
-also very particular about their teeth. We, of course, clean our teeth;
-but if one rubs his body occasionally with oil and camwood powder
-surely he has no need of water! It only spoils the effect.
-
-When they had finished their ablutions and taken their food the chief
-and elders of the town gathered together in council, and after a little
-while we were brought before them. There was much talk, which I could
-not understand, but as it was evident that they were deciding our fate
-we stood there in fear and trembling, not knowing but what some of us
-might be chosen to furnish another feast for them. Finally it was
-decided that we should be kept in slavery, and we were divided up
-between the different elders of the town, the chief keeping me and
-three others as his share of the spoil. And so my name, Bokwala
-(slave), became true of me and I entered on my life as a slave to the
-cannibals.
-
-I felt so strange amongst all these people whose language I could not
-understand, and yet I found that I was expected to enter on my duties
-at once. Although I had great anger in my heart towards my captors, yet
-in one way I desired to please them, because by so doing I hoped to
-make sure of a better time for myself than I should have otherwise. So
-I set myself to find out what was meant even when I could not
-understand their words.
-
-When the sun began to slip down a little I noticed that the women
-commenced to get their fires ready for cooking the evening meal. The
-wife of my master pointed to me and then to her fire, and was evidently
-making some request of him which concerned me. He assented and turning
-to me said, “Dua na epundu.”
-
-I knew he was giving me an order, and immediately rose to obey; but
-what did he want? I went into the house and looked round and soon spied
-an axe. Of course, the woman wanted firewood, and in order to get that
-one needed an axe. So probably “Dua na epundu” meant “Bring the axe.” I
-picked it up and carried it to my master, who was apparently pleased,
-for he patted me on the head and said, “Mwana mbai, mwana mbai” (“My
-child”).
-
-Then, pointing with his lips to the forest, he said, “Ke a lene desa”
-(“Go and cut firewood”).
-
-I had expected that order, so was ready to set off at once, repeating
-over and over the few words I had learned, in turn with my own
-language, so that I should not forget them:—
-
-“Dua na epundu, yela liswa;” “dua na epundu, yela liswa,” I said over
-and over again, until I felt sure of the words. Then, while I was
-cutting the wood, “Ke a lene desa, Nco yo tena nkui;” “Ke a lene desa,
-Nco yo tena nkui;” and before long I found that I had enough wood to
-fill my basket, so I set off for the village, and was again rewarded by
-a pat on the head and the words, “Mwana mbai, mwana mbai!”
-
-While I was in the forest cutting wood the hunters had come back and
-brought some animals with them, so I found every one busy preparing
-meat for cooking. I, with the other children, sat down and watched,
-when suddenly one of the women turned to me and said, “Dua na mune.”
-
-I sprang up and rushed into the house, but what I had been sent for I
-could not think. I sat on the ground and wondered, and again I sent my
-eyes round the little hut. Ah! that is it! oil, of course. They have
-plenty of meat, and are going to make palm-oil chop. I seized the
-calabash of oil from under the bed, and ran with it to the woman who
-had sent me, and was received with a chorus of “Bia! bia!” (“Just so”),
-and for the third time received the old chief’s pat on the head, and
-heard the words, “Mwana mbai!”
-
-I began to feel a little less strange, and to listen for other words,
-for I had already found that the way to please these people was to be
-bright and do my best. I found that they called nyáma (meat), tito;
-bauta (oil), mune; ngoya (mother), ngwao, and fafa (father), sango, and
-I was just trying to learn these words well so as to remember them
-afterwards, when the chief called to me, “Bokwala!”
-
-“Em’óne” (“I am here”), said I, in my own language, for I knew not how
-else to answer.
-
-“Dua na yeka dia,” said he, beckoning me to their group, who were
-gathered round to take their evening meal, which was just being served.
-I drew near, and received my share of food, and so I learnt some more
-words, which meant, “Come and eat food.”
-
-I began to think that my master did not seem a bad sort of man after
-all, and that perhaps I might get used to my life there; but then I
-could not help remembering the fight, and that only two nights before
-these people had been feasting off my people, and would do so again
-when they had an opportunity, and I went to sleep that night with my
-mind made up that if ever I could see the least chance to do so, I
-would escape, even if it had to be alone.
-
-Many days and nights passed in this way, we slaves having to do all
-kinds of work and being sent on errands continually, sometimes even
-being told to mind the little children when the mothers went to their
-gardens. Of course, we looked upon all this as oppression, and felt
-great shame, for we boys frequently had to do women’s work, and what
-can be more degrading than that? And I could never forget that I was
-the son of a chief!
-
-As we learnt more of their language, and began to understand what was
-said in our presence, we found that there was plenty of reason for fear
-as to our future, even though we had been kept alive for the present.
-
-When our people were spoken of it was as tito (meat), and fighting
-expeditions were looked upon as hunts. It was quite usual to ratify
-agreements between chiefs by the killing of a slave and feasting on the
-body, and this was even done sometimes when a chief wanted to pay
-special honour to a visitor. And when we heard these things being
-discussed and plans being laid for them, we trembled with fear, and
-wondered how long we should be all there together.
-
-We had not much time to ourselves, for we were kept continually busy,
-and we dared not talk together very much, because some of the natives
-of the village could understand our words, but now and again, out in
-the forest or at night, we were able to tell each other how we were
-getting on, and to condole with one another over our misfortunes.
-
-Now my master discovered that I was good at climbing and at catching
-bats, so when the bat season came on he often sent me into the forest
-to search for some. One day I went out on such a quest and did not
-return until evening. I took the bats I had caught to the chief, and
-afterwards went off to the shed where my companions were sitting.
-
-They all seemed very quiet, and scarcely gave me a welcome, and this
-was unusual, especially when I brought meat in from the forest. I threw
-myself down amongst them, and looking round the group I missed Siene, a
-little girl slave with whom I was on very good terms.
-
-“Where is Siene?” I asked of the others.
-
-“O Bokwala,” answered one, “do not ask, we do not want to tell you.”
-
-“But I want to know. Is she ill? Or has she escaped?” I inquired,
-thinking the latter hardly possible for a girl alone.
-
-“Bokwala,” said one, beckoning me to follow him, “come.”
-
-I followed him to an open space at the end of one of the huts, and
-pointing to the ground, he said to me, “Look there; that is all that is
-left of Siene.”
-
-I looked and started back. Could it be? Yes, it was only too true—that
-dark stain on the ground was blood. And little by little I heard the
-whole terrible story. The chief had visitors, and he determined on a
-feast in their honour, and as a dainty morsel was indispensable, he
-decided to kill and serve up the body of my little girl friend. It was
-on that very spot where we stood that the deed had been committed. And
-that dark stain was all that was left of my friend!
-
-That night I was drunk with anger, and so were the other boys. There
-was no one but us boys and girls to weep for Siene, but we wept until
-we wept ourselves to sleep for sorrow; sorrow not only for her, but for
-ourselves as well; for we knew not how soon we might be treated in the
-same way.
-
-Time passed on, and we grew more and more accustomed to our
-surroundings, and as we boys proved useful to our masters, we had a
-certain amount of liberty, and went to fish and hunt frequently, but
-always for the benefit of our respective masters—nothing we caught was
-reckoned as our own property.
-
-And we were not always in favour. If anything was lost or stolen, we
-were accused of the deed; if we failed to obey or understand, we were
-beaten or punished in some other way; and if one of us was found to
-have lied, we had to pay the price, which was sometimes a heavy one.
-
-One boy who told his master a lie was found out, and the master with
-one slash of his knife cut the boy’s ear off, cooked it over the fire,
-and compelled the slave to eat it. That was a bad master, they were not
-all like that.
-
-One way of punishing us was by rubbing red peppers into our eyes, and
-another by cutting little slits in the skin over our shoulders and
-backs where we could not reach, and rubbing pepper into the sores thus
-made. They hoped by this means not only to punish us, but to harden us,
-and make of us brave men who would not flinch at pain.
-
-In the case of accusations of stealing, the most popular way of
-settling the affair was by the poison ordeal. That was a very frequent
-occurrence in those days, and still is in parts where the white men do
-not visit often. It was like this. All the people gathered together,
-and the chief, witch-doctor, and headmen seated themselves to hear the
-trial. The persons concerned gave their evidence, and the accused was
-allowed to make his defence; but if he were a slave, of what use was
-it? Then the evidence would be summed up, and the decision given that
-the poison ordeal be administered.
-
-The bark was brought and scraped, then mixed with water, and the
-draught given to the prisoner. We always took it willingly, for we all
-believed that it revealed the truth, and therefore were obliged to
-stand or fall by it. After it was drunk in the presence of the people,
-all waited eagerly for the result. If the prisoner vomited, and was
-none the worse, of course he had been falsely accused; if, on the other
-hand, he fell and died, there was proof positive of his guilt. What
-could any one want more decisive than that?
-
-Occasionally there were fights between different villages near to us,
-as well as the warlike expeditions to other tribes. When two villages
-had been fighting for a long time, and neither could win or was willing
-to give in, it was generally settled by a peace-offering. At such a
-time we slaves went in fear of our lives, for it was almost certain
-that a slave would be hanged as a peace-offering, and possibly his
-corpse would be eaten afterwards.
-
-With all these fears surrounding us, and never feeling sure of our
-lives for a single day—no matter how kind some of the people might be
-to us—you will not be surprised to hear that whenever we got together
-and could talk a little our conversation always turned to the subject
-of our escape from slavery. But so far as we could see there was no
-possibility of getting away.
-
-About this time we began to hear rumours of some strange people who had
-paid a visit to a village not far from my father’s place, Ekaka. They
-were said to be white—men like us but with white skins—and they came in
-a canoe which went of itself, having no paddlers, but emitting smoke
-from the roof.
-
-At first we laughed and thought it was just a yarn, simply a made-up
-story; but the rumours became frequent, and we heard that some of the
-people had actually bought some land and settled down on it. We could
-not understand about them, so we concluded that they must be the
-children of Lianza, the great warrior hero of our race, who went down
-river ages ago and never returned. But these things did not trouble me,
-for what chance had I ever to get back to my father’s place, or see
-these people?
-
-One day we had a great fright. A neighbouring chief came with his
-slaves and children and the elders of his village to visit my master.
-There was the usual salutation and a little gossip, and then he began
-to tell his business. He had been settling an affair between himself
-and another chief, and it fell to his share to provide the feast of
-ratification, and naturally he wished to do it well.
-
-Now he had no suitable slave to kill for the occasion, which was
-unfortunate, so he had come to his friend to see if he could help him
-out of this serious difficulty by selling him a slave.
-
-“No,” said my master, “I cannot help you; I have no one to sell.”
-
-Then there was much talking and pleading. “You have so many slaves in
-your village, do let us have one, even if only a little one.”
-
-But for some time he held out, and refused to sell, and we who were
-listening began to hope that we were safe for this time at any rate,
-until at last we heard the words, “Well, take my wife’s boy: he is
-small and not of much use to me. Take Makweke.”
-
-Makweke was a little lad whom the chief had given to his wife to look
-after her two baby girls, of whom they were both very fond. The woman
-liked Makweke and was kind to him, and not having a boy of her own she
-treated him better than most of the slaves. So when she heard her
-husband’s words she whispered to the boy to run and hide, and told him
-of a safe hiding-place.
-
-Away he went into the bush, and we sat down and waited.
-
-Soon the chief called, “Makweke, dua pelepele” (“Come quickly”), but
-receiving no answer he called again.
-
-Then his wife answered, “Makweke is not here; he was, but has gone.”
-
-“Call him,” said the chief; “I want him here.”
-
-The woman answered, “I cannot call him; if you want him you must search
-for him yourself.”
-
-So, receiving the chief’s permission, the people rushed out and
-searched for Makweke in the houses and all over the village, then in
-the gardens at the back, but they found no trace of him. Into the
-forest they went and hunted in every direction, beating the bushes with
-sticks, and peering up into the big trees, trying to discover his
-hiding-place; but it was all in vain. The search failed, and they
-returned to their own village in great anger at being thwarted in their
-plans.
-
-But I must tell you of Makweke. He ran off to a little distance,
-climbed a tree, and let himself down into the hollow trunk—the
-hiding-place of which he had been told. There he was safe, but he could
-hear the noise and shoutings of the people who were searching for him
-getting nearer and nearer, until at last they reached his tree, halted,
-beat the bushes under it and the lower branches with their sticks, and
-then—what relief!—passed on.
-
-He told us afterwards that he was so scared he hardly dared breathe,
-and although he knew they could not see him, he trembled with fear as
-long as they were near.
-
-Late at night, after the visitors had left, his mistress took some food
-out to him, and told him to remain there until the morning, when
-probably her husband’s anger would be finished. Then he might come back
-to the village. He did so, and the affair passed without further
-trouble.
-
-All this decided us that we would not remain in such a place of danger
-a day longer than we could help. I was older now, and had grown big and
-strong, and once across the river I knew that a warm welcome would be
-accorded to me and any who went with me. Our only fear was of recapture
-before we could reach the river, but we all felt it was worth risking,
-so from that time we began in dead earnest to look out for an
-opportunity of running away.
-
-Not so very long after the chief and some of his people went to pay a
-visit and remained over night. All was quiet in the village, and no one
-troubled about us boys, so in the dense darkness of a moonless night we
-gathered together.
-
-Hastily we made our plans, picked up the little food we had saved from
-our evening meal, grasped our hunting spears and knives, and slipped
-away into the bush at the back of the village. We went very
-stealthily—nya-nya, like a leopard when he is stalking his prey—scared
-at every sound, starting at the snapping of a twig, the call of a
-night-bird or the whistle of an insect.
-
-On and on we pressed, not daring to speak to each other, lest we might
-betray our whereabouts to some unfriendly native, or one who was
-friendly to our masters, scarcely able to see the path, for the moon
-had not yet risen, scratching ourselves as we passed thorny bushes,
-treading on sticks and roots of trees projecting from the ground—and
-still on—what mattered wounds or weariness if at last we reached the
-river and liberty?
-
-We made good progress during the first few hours, and were not much
-afraid of pursuit, as our flight would not be discovered until morning;
-but by and by some of our party (which consisted of a man and his wife
-with a little child as well as three of us boys) began to get weary,
-and it was necessary that we should get away from the main road, lest
-we should be overtaken. So we turned off into a side road, and at a
-little distance from it we found a large fallen tree which made a good
-hiding-place. There we lay down and slept for some time, one of us
-taking turns at watching and listening.
-
-In the morning we were startled by hearing voices not far off, and as
-we listened we recognised them as belonging to natives of the village
-we had left. Yes, they had awakened to find us gone; and now a search
-party was out scouring the forest in every direction for signs of us.
-We dared not move nor speak, and how anxious we were that the child
-should not cry! Nearer and nearer came the voices till they sounded
-almost close at hand, and then they receded gradually, and at last died
-away in the distance. We were nearly caught, but not quite!
-
-After waiting for some time, we went out to look round, and on the main
-road we traced the footprints of our pursuers distinctly; they had
-passed our footpath by, and so we escaped recapture. From now onwards
-we had to keep to bypaths, sometimes cutting our way through dense
-forest, spending our nights under fallen trees or on the ground, hungry
-and weary; but in spite of all our difficulties we reached the river
-bank at last.
-
-We were still far from home, but once on the other bank we would at
-least be safe from pursuit. Our people have a proverb, “Nta fendaka
-ntandu la mposa e’ola”—that is, “You cannot cross the river by means of
-a thirst for home.” This is certainly a true saying, so we had to seek
-for a canoe to take us over. One of our party set out along the bank to
-see if there were any moored there, as people often go out fishing and
-leave their canoes with no one to look after them. This was our hope,
-and it was fulfilled.
-
-Not far away was found a canoe with paddles in it, and no sign of the
-owners. We determined to watch it until sundown, and then, if no one
-appeared, to take it and set out. For the remainder of that day we
-rested, and sought for some food to stay our hunger. How we rejoiced to
-find some edible caterpillars, which were delicious, and made us feel
-stronger for our night’s work! Just as the darkness was coming on, when
-you cannot tell one man from another, we crept along the bank, stepped
-into the canoe, grasped the paddles, and silently pushed off into the
-stream.
-
-We boys were delighted to be on the river again, and we did paddle! But
-had any people been about we might have lost everything even then, for
-the woman who came with us had been born on that side of the river, and
-had never been on the water in her life. She sat down in the bottom,
-clasping her child, and trembling with fear. Every time the canoe gave
-a lurch she would utter a little half-suppressed scream, and say, “Na
-gwa! Na kwe bona?” (“I am dying. What shall I do?”). We could not help
-laughing at her, but it did no good, she was really very much afraid.
-We got safely over, tied the canoe to the bank, and left it for the
-owners to find as best they might, and plunged once more into the
-forest.
-
-Now that we were on the safe side of the river we did not need to be so
-careful about keeping away from the roads; we only hid if we heard
-voices, not knowing to whom they might belong. Two more nights were
-passed in the thick forest, and two more days we spent walking on, just
-managing to keep alive by eating fruit, roots, caterpillars, or
-anything we could find that was edible. When we were nearing home we
-again heard voices not far off.
-
-We listened. Yes, I recognised them. They were people from my father’s
-village. Accosting them, we made inquiries about our friends, and were
-glad to find that all was well.
-
-On we pressed with renewed energy, and towards evening we arrived in
-the village, worn out with anxiety, exhausted from want of food, and
-ready to drop with weariness; but how glad we were to be there!
-
-And what a welcome we all had! My father and mother received us with
-great rejoicing—our fellow travellers for my sake—and what a feast was
-made in our honour! After the feast I told my story, and many were the
-questions asked and the comments made as the villagers listened.
-
-Thus we arrived back at home, and thus we were welcomed, and on the
-next day a great dance was held in our honour. And for ourselves, what
-shall I say? We—we were ready to die of happiness! And yet the day was
-coming when we would wish that we had stayed where we were, even as
-slaves of the cannibals.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER III
-
-THE COMING OF BOKAKALA
-
-    At home again—I choose a wife—How I went courting—And was
-    married—My visits to the white men—They talk of “one Jesus”—The
-    other white man, Bokakala—He wants rubber—We are eager to get
-    it—How rubber was collected—The rubber market—“We did not know.”
-
-
-After I got back home, it was some little time before we all settled
-down again to the old ways. As I said, there was much rejoicing,
-accompanied by feasting and dancing, and then when that was over, I had
-to visit many friends, while others came to visit me.
-
-We all enjoyed the feasting and soon got strong and well again, some of
-us quite stout; but it was not long before we got tired of answering so
-many inquiries, and listening to so many comments; so off we went into
-the forest to cut bamboos and reeds for thatching, and trees for
-building, and set to work to build new houses for ourselves. It was
-soon settled that the family who had come with us from the cannibal
-country should remain in our village, so the husband started building a
-house for them not far from ours.
-
-As time went on I began to think it would be a good thing to get
-married, and as my father was quite ready to find the riches I should
-need to pass over to the father of my chosen wife, I did not lose any
-time in making known my wishes to her.
-
-Her name was Bamatafe, and she was considered very beautiful. Her skin
-was of a light brown colour, and decorated all over in various patterns
-of cicatrised cuttings, and when well rubbed with palm oil and camwood
-powder would shine in the sun. She was usually dressed in a wild-cat
-skin and fresh plantain leaves frayed out at the edges and suspended
-from a string of blue beads round the waist. Her hair was dressed in
-our most beautiful style—called besíngya—that is, all the hair is
-divided into very small portions, each of which is rolled in oil
-sprinkled plentifully with red camwood powder and another kind of
-sweet-smelling powder made from nuts. Her eyes were black, and her
-teeth were chiseled to very sharp points.
-
-Such was the girl I loved; and now that you know what she looked like,
-can you wonder that I wanted her?
-
-But of course I had to find out if she were willing to come to me, so I
-determined to pay a few visits to her home.
-
-On the first occasion I simply passed by and looked at her as she was
-sitting in her father’s house; but I went again, and, drawing near, I
-said to her, “Bamatafe, o l’eko?” (salutation, “Are you there?”) to
-which she answered, “I am there; Are you there?” and I said “O yes!”
-
-I felt very encouraged after that interview, and the next time stayed
-and talked with her for a while; then when a few days had passed I
-carried her a fine fat hen for a present. When she accepted that I knew
-it was all right for me, she was agreeable.
-
-I immediately went and told my father about it, and he arranged with
-hers about the amount of riches which was to be paid as pledge money on
-the occasion of our marriage. A spear was passed over as earnest of the
-other things to come, and that evening I brought home my wife.
-
-Her beauty was greatly admired, and according to our custom I had to
-make a lot of presents to the people who admired her so much. Every one
-of the young men thought me very fortunate in securing such a beautiful
-wife. And I soon found that she was clever also, for she could cook
-well; and at once she set about planting a big garden, which showed
-that she was industrious.
-
-We settled down to village life then—building houses, making canoes and
-other things, getting our knives, spears, and ornaments made by the
-village blacksmith, hunting, fishing, palaver talking, paying and
-receiving visits, having a good time generally, and feeling so glad to
-be really free—free from bondage and servitude.
-
-I often paid visits to the white men of whom we had heard so many
-rumours on the other side of the river, and became quite friendly with
-them. I could not quite understand them: their words were good
-certainly, but they said they had come to our land simply to tell us
-those words, and not to get anything from us.
-
-Naturally that seemed strange to me—our people always want to get and
-not to give—“but then,” thought I, “there is no accounting for people
-who are such freaks as to have white skins; perhaps it is their way;
-and if so, what more?” They were always talking about one Jesus, who
-was very good and kind and loved us, and who they say died and rose
-again and is now alive. That was too much! Who ever saw a person rise
-from death, and if He were alive and really cared for us, why did He
-himself not come and see us? So we said, “When we see Him, we will
-believe.” Of course, it is only nsao (legend or fable).
-
-We went to see them, and took them an egg or a chicken, or perhaps a
-little manioca now and then, and listened to their words and heard them
-sing, and we always came away thinking what wonderful people they were,
-and how much wisdom they had.
-
-And then there came to our district another white man, and he built a
-house not far from the compound of these white men of God, and settled
-down there. At first we thought that he and the other white men were
-brothers: all had white faces and straight hair like monkeys; they
-seemed friendly and helped each other, and we never saw them fight or
-quarrel as we so often do. But after a while we saw that there was a
-difference, for the new white man called a palaver, and our chiefs
-gathered together from all the villages around the district, and, of
-course, many of us young men went with them to hear what it was all
-about.
-
-It was this: the new white man—we called him Bokakala—had come to live
-with us because he had heard that in our forest grew the rubber vine in
-abundance, and he wanted rubber—plenty of it. Not only so, but would
-pay for it—brass rods, beads, salt! Now would the chiefs get it for
-him? Would they be willing to send their young men into the forest to
-collect the rubber sap? And would the young men go?
-
-Oh, how we laughed! How we danced! Who ever heard of placing any value
-on the rubber plant except for the fruit to eat? Fancy getting
-salt—white man’s salt—just for bringing rubber! Of course we would go
-and get it. Could we not start at once?
-
-Then Bokakala got out some baskets to give us to put the rubber in, and
-there was such a scramble for those baskets—we almost fought as to who
-should get the first chance of possessing a rubber basket.
-
-The white man seemed pleased, and gave presents to the chiefs; and we
-were pleased, anxious to get off at once, at the first possible minute,
-to search for rubber, to obtain for ourselves some of that wonderful
-salt from Europe. We had already tasted it, and once tasted, there is
-nothing else that will satisfy the desire for it.
-
-Away into the forest we went—not far, for there was plenty of rubber in
-those days—and were soon busy making incisions in the vines and
-catching the drops of sap as they fell in little pots or calabashes
-ready to bring it home with us in the evening. There was great rivalry
-amongst us as to who could get the largest quantity. Then when we
-thought we had sufficient we returned to our homes with it and sought
-for the plant with which it must be mixed in order for it to coagulate.
-This grows in great quantities near many of our villages, and we call
-it bekaaku. Having mixed the two saps they formed a substance solid
-enough to make into balls about the size of a rubber fruit. These,
-packed into the baskets which the white man had given us, were ready
-for carrying to him.
-
-When we took our well-filled baskets and presented them at his house
-Bokakala was much pleased, and we wondered that any man should be so
-easily satisfied, for we could not understand of what use the rubber
-could be to him. However, he gave us salt and beads, and if we gained
-by his foolishness, why should we object?
-
-We continued to take him rubber, and in course of time a special day
-was set apart (the fifth day of the white man’s week) on which rubber
-was to be brought regularly, and that day soon came to be called by us
-mbile e’otofe (rubber day), and is so called to the present time.
-
-Week after week the rubber market was held, and Bokakala was good to
-us—he gave us salt, cloth, and beads in exchange for what we brought;
-he talked and chatted with us, settled our palavers for us, taught us
-many things, and even named some of our children after himself and gave
-them presents.
-
-In those days we had no palaver with Bokakala; it was after he left us
-that trouble began. Many times since we have regretted that we welcomed
-Bokakala as we did because of what happened afterwards, but at the
-beginning he treated us well, and we did not know what would follow.
-Perhaps he did not know either, but it seems to us that we made our
-great mistake in accepting his first offers. We were tempted and fell
-into a trap; but we say to ourselves over and over again when we think
-and speak of those times, “It was all right at first, but WE DID NOT
-KNOW.”
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IV
-
-THE BEGINNING OF SORROWS
-
-    The coming of more white men—A change in our treatment—Things go
-    from bad to worse—I get tired of collecting rubber—And stay at
-    home—The white man’s anger and threats—I go to a palaver—My rubber
-    is short—I am whipped—The white man’s new plan—Forest guards—Their
-    oppression and greed—We report them to the white man—Results—But
-    the worst not yet.
-
-
-When Bokakala had been with us some time, other white men came to our
-country, and they also wanted rubber. “Why do they want so much
-rubber?” we asked; for we could not see why they should be continually
-wanting the same thing. That is not our way; we feel a thirst for a
-thing for a time, but in a little while it is finished, and we want
-something else. Later on Bokakala left us to go to his own land to seek
-for strength in his body, and he left us another white man, whom we
-called “Leopard”; but they were all known afterwards as Bokakala’s
-white men.
-
-When the day of rubber came round week after week, we took in to the
-white man our little baskets of rubber balls, and received in exchange
-salt or beads; or if, as sometimes happened, he had none of these
-articles left, he would give us a book to keep, and pay us in kind when
-his boxes arrived. So far we had not had any trouble between us and the
-white man; he and we were satisfied with the barter we carried on.
-
-But changes came—another white man came to help Leopard in his work,
-and he was different from other white men, he was not good, so we gave
-him a bad name which meant “Pillage” or “Brigandage,” though I do not
-suppose he ever knew what it meant.
-
-Naturally a change took place in the way we were treated, and gradually
-things got worse and worse.
-
-Now it is well known that no man goes on for ever at one thing without
-getting tired, and wanting a rest. And when I had been going to and fro
-to the forest getting rubber for a long time, I began to wish to sit
-down in town for a little while, especially as by this time Bamatafe
-had given birth to a little son, of whom I was very proud, as he was
-our firstborn.
-
-So one week I stayed at home when the young men went to the forest, and
-when the day of rubber fell I had no rubber, and did not go to the
-white man’s place.
-
-As usual, our names were called out of a book, and when mine was
-reached some one answered, “He has not come.” Then the white man was
-angry, and said that if Bokwala did not come to the next market he
-would have a big palaver. My friends came home and told me his words,
-and the next time I went with them and was told that I must never miss
-coming—the rubber must be brought in regularly without fail, or there
-would be “chicotte,” or perhaps even prison for those who missed
-coming.
-
-After that I went regularly for a long time, but on one occasion there
-was a great palaver to be talked in our village, and it was necessary
-for me to be present at it. At this time we had to collect a certain
-weight of rubber and present it at the white man’s place every
-fifteenth day. It took almost all our time to go to and from the forest
-and collect the rubber, for it was becoming very scarce.
-
-So when the day came for carrying my basket to the white man I had not
-the prescribed quantity. I knew that when my turn came to have my
-rubber weighed the white man would be angry and scold me, but said I,
-“Lotango nta wak’ontu” (“Reproach does not kill a man”), and I did not
-expect anything worse.
-
-But the order was given, “Etama” (“Lie down”).
-
-I could scarcely believe my ears—I, the son of a chief, to be whipped
-publicly!
-
-It was true. I was placed face down on the ground, my cloth turned
-back, and the twisted hippo hide whip was brought out by one of the
-servants of the white man.
-
-Down it came on me, lash after lash, cutting clean into the flesh at
-every stroke, and causing the blood to flow!
-
-I do not know how many strokes were given me then; how could I count?
-The pain was bad enough, but the shame was worse. Then I was sent off,
-the blood drops on the sand showing the path I followed, without
-payment for the rubber I had brought, and with the order to bring a
-double quantity next time.
-
-For my own sake I tried to do so. I bought some from a man in the
-village who had managed to amass a reserve stock, but I had to pay a
-ruinous price for it. I soaked some in water to make it heavier, and
-next time I was allowed to leave without any punishment.
-
-One day the white man told us of a new arrangement he was making for us
-rubber workers. A number of men were to be set apart as sentries, we
-called them, but the white man called them guards of the forest. They
-were to be taken from amongst our own people, and armed with guns, and
-they would accompany us on our journeys to and from the forest and
-protect us, and they would also escort us to the white man’s place when
-the day arrived for taking in the collected rubber. This sounded well,
-and as the rubber grew more and more scarce, and we had to go further
-into the forest to secure it, surely, we thought, a gun would be a
-protection, and keep our enemies from interfering with us.
-
-Alas! once more were our hopes dashed to the ground. These men, who
-were supposed to be our protectors, became in time our worst
-oppressors. Instead of going with us into the forest, they at once
-appropriated the best houses in the villages for themselves, or if
-these were not good enough for them, they caused new ones to be erected
-at our expense. After hurrying us off to the forest alone and
-unprotected at the earliest possible moment, they established
-themselves in the village, and lived in such a style as to far outshine
-any of our chiefs—in fact, taking a delight in insulting and
-depreciating them and relegating to themselves every vestige of
-authority which had formerly been vested in the chiefs of our own
-people.
-
-As soon as ever we young men had gone, they behaved as though
-everything in the village belonged to them; the few goats we had, our
-fowls, dogs, food, all our goods and possessions—nothing was safe from
-their greed, and it was not long before even our wives were not safe if
-left at home alone.
-
-Things had been gradually getting worse for a long time, and now that
-the sentries were placed over us were so much worse than ever before
-that we began to give up hope.
-
-We reported their doings to the white man many times, but we soon found
-that he and they were as one man, and that if we told we almost
-invariably lost the palaver before the white man, and then the sentries
-found means of their own to punish us for having spoken against them.
-
-We frequently visited the other white men when we had the time to
-spare—I mean those who taught about God—and told them our grievances.
-
-They listened and wrote the things we told them in a book, and tried
-very hard to get things put right for us; but with a bad white man in
-charge of worse black men who were all armed with guns and given free
-scope in the villages, it was little they could do.
-
-On several occasions they did win cases for us, and we always knew that
-things would be worse if they were not in our midst to see and hear
-what was done, and to take our part against our oppressors.
-
-“Times were bad!” do you say? You are sorry for us?
-
-Yes, white men of Europe, they were bad, even then; but I have not
-reached the worst part of my story. Then, if you do indeed feel pity,
-your hearts will weep for us, and you will be filled with grief and
-with anger.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER V
-
-OPPRESSION, SHAME, AND TORTURE
-
-    My new slavery—How our villagers fared at home—The white man’s
-    meat—How it was got—The white men of God and their pity—How the
-    women were enslaved—Feeding the idle—Endeavours to evade
-    oppression—Results—How would you like our conditions?—Forest
-    work—Its hardships—The day of reckoning—Back to the village and
-    home—An ominous silence—A sad discovery—Redeeming our wives—An
-    offending villager—A poor victim—A ghastly punishment—The woman’s
-    death—Another village—The monkey-hunters—The old man who stayed at
-    home—How he was tortured—No redress.
-
-
-I think you white people who hear my story will see that by this time
-my name Bokwala (slave) was being verified for the second time; for
-though the slavery to the black man was bad and caused me much shame,
-that which we had to undergo now was, in some ways, worse; and, though
-most of the very worst things were done by the sentries, the white man
-agreed to them.
-
-At least, we thought he did, as he scarcely ever lost a palaver for
-them. This kind of treatment, constant rubber collecting, no rest, and
-sometimes no pay—what can it be called but another kind of slavery?
-
-I want to tell you some of the things which happened during this time
-of oppression. It is not only we men who go into the forest who suffer;
-but also those who are left at home in the villages, our old fathers
-and mothers, our wives and little children.
-
-The white man wanted fresh meat for his table, so he ordered the old
-men in the villages to hunt antelopes in the forest for him, and bring
-them in alive. The hunting was easy, but not so the catching of animals
-alive. That meant great care in dealing with such animals as were
-inside our enclosures of nets, so as not to allow their escape while
-endeavouring not to kill them.
-
-Then other kinds, the water antelopes especially, are dangerous, and
-cannot be caught alive without the captor receiving wounds from their
-sharp teeth. When once caught, their legs were broken in order to
-prevent their escape on the journey to the white man’s compound, and
-thus our fathers supplied the white man’s table with fresh meat.
-
-Some of the villages had to supply one, two, or even four animals
-weekly, and one white man would not take them with broken legs because
-he wanted to keep them alive on his own place.
-
-I have been told also that some of the white men of God and their wives
-remonstrated with the carriers of these broken-legged animals who
-happened to pass their houses, with regard to the cruelty of breaking
-the legs. They say they feel pity for the antelopes! Of course, the men
-laughed at that, because who pities animals? They are not men, or we
-should pity them. White men are strange kind of people!
-
-Again, when the white man’s compound grew large and he had many people
-working for him, he needed food with which to provide for their needs.
-Not only his actual servants but their wives and families, and
-sometimes others went and sat down, as we say, on the white man’s
-place, for there they had an easy time.
-
-In order to supply all that was needed the women in the villages had to
-work very large gardens, much larger than would otherwise have been
-necessary; then dig the roots of the manioca; peel and steep it in the
-river for four or five days; carry it back again to their homes in
-heavily laden baskets up steep hillsides; pound, mould into long
-strips, wrap in leaves, bind with creeper-string, and finally boil the
-tökö or kwanga, our native bread. All this meant much work for our
-women; firewood must be cut and carried from the forest, special leaves
-sought and gathered, and creeper cut for string; and every week the
-food must be taken to the white man’s place punctually.
-
-And for a large bundle of ten pieces one brass rod (5 centimes) is paid
-to the women!
-
-What seems hardest of all is that much of the food goes to supply
-families in which are plenty of strong women, who are perfectly well
-able to cook for themselves and their husbands.
-
-These women live a life of idleness, and very often of vice, on the
-land of the white man, and frequently treat the village women with
-disdain and shower contumely upon them. If, as sometimes happens, high
-words ensue, the village women have no chance whatever, for the others
-can say a word to their husbands or paramours, who are armed with guns,
-and it is an easy thing for them to avenge such quarrels on their next
-visit to the village of which the women happen to be natives.
-
-There are generally a few villages in close proximity to the white
-man’s place the natives of which are set apart to supply paddlers,
-carriers, dried fish for employees’ rations, manioca bread, &c., and
-who are not reckoned amongst the rubber workers. We used to envy the
-inhabitants of these places, and some of our people tried to leave
-their own homes and go to reside where the people seemed to us to be
-better off than we were.
-
-But this was not allowed by the white man; if found out, the offence
-was punished severely either with the whip or prison, so we gave it up.
-And even in these favoured villages they had their trials; fowls and
-eggs were required as well as other little things, and they had to be
-supplied somehow, and it was often anyhow.
-
-As long as the supplies came to hand regularly, and no complaints were
-made by the villagers against the sentries who were sent out to collect
-the food or call the people, all went well. But it could not possibly
-be peaceful for long, because our people were treated in ways that no
-one, not even an animal, would put up with quietly. And although I know
-you white people do not like to hear of bad doings, I must tell you of
-some now, or you cannot understand how we feel about this rubber and
-other work which we are compelled to do by strangers of whom we know
-nothing, and to whom we think we owe nothing.
-
-Think how you would feel, if you had been out in the forest for eleven
-or twelve days and nights, perhaps in the wet season, when the wind
-blows so that you cannot climb the trees for fear of either the tree or
-yourself being blown down; and the rain pours in torrents and quickly
-soaks through the leaf thatch of your temporary hut (just a roof
-supported on four sticks) and puts out your fire, so that all night
-long you sit and shiver; you cannot sleep for the mosquitoes; and,
-strong man as you are, you weep, because the day which is past has
-passed in vain, you have no rubber!
-
-Then, if a fine morning follows, and you manage to make a fire, (with
-tinder and flint,) eat a little food you have kept over, and start off
-again in feverish haste to find a vine before some one else gets it.
-You find one, make several incisions, place your calabash under the
-dripping sap, and your hopes begin to rise. Towards evening it rains
-again, and again you can scarcely sleep for the cold; you have nothing
-to cover yourself with, and the only source of warmth is a few
-smouldering embers in the centre of the hut.
-
-In the middle of the night you have a feeling that something is near,
-something moving stealthily in the darkness, and you see two glaring
-eyes gazing at you—a leopard or civet cat is prowling round your
-shelter. You throw a burning firebrand at it, and with a growl it
-dashes off into the bush.
-
-In the morning you tie another knot in your string, by which you count
-the days, and say, “If only I can get a lot to-day! The time grows
-short, I shall soon go home.”
-
-Day after day passes in this way, and at last the rubber is ready, or
-even if it is not, the day has dawned; you must start for the white
-man’s place—and home is on the way!
-
-One or two nights are passed on the road, and you draw near to the
-village.
-
-“What a welcome I shall have! Bamatafe with the baby, Isekokwala, my
-father, now an old man, and my mother, and a feast of good things as I
-always find.”
-
-As we get near the village, I begin to sing and feel happy, and tell
-the other men what a good wife I have, and what a feast she will have
-ready for me!
-
-But how quiet it all is—and yes, surely I hear a wail! What can it be?
-
-I rush on ahead, and hear the following story.
-
-In the morning some sentries arrived to bring the rubber men to the
-white man’s place. We had not come in from the forest, so they took our
-wives, quite a number of them—Bamatafe amongst them with her baby at
-her breast—away to the white man’s prison, or hostage house as he calls
-it, and my relatives are crying over it!
-
-I was mad with rage, but it was too late to do anything that night.
-
-In the morning we took our rubber in to the white man, who received it,
-refused to pay anything for it, but allowed it to pass for the
-redemption of our wives! Of course, we did not say anything; we were
-only too glad to get them free at any price; for what could we do
-without them?
-
-You, white men in Europe, who say you feel pity for us, how would you
-feel if such a thing happened to you and your wife and little child? We
-were treated like that not once, but many times.
-
-In a village not far from my father’s the men were all away on one
-occasion trying to procure what was required of them as their weekly
-tax. When the day for bringing it in fell due, they did not arrive in
-good time, and as usual sentries were sent out to inquire into it.
-
-Finding no men in town, and most of the women having fled into the bush
-in fear at the approach of the sentries, they seized the wife of one of
-the absent men. She had recently become a mother; perhaps she was not
-strong enough to run away with her companions. Anyway she was arrested
-with her babe at her breast, and taken off to the white man’s place,
-where it was decided to give the village a lesson that they would not
-soon forget.
-
-In the presence of the white man the poor thing was stretched on the
-ground, and the awful hippo-hide whip was brought into requisition. The
-man who started the whipping became tired, and passed the whip over to
-another to continue it, until at last, when the woman was more dead
-than alive, and in a condition which cannot be described to you, the
-white man gave the order to cease, and she was—set free, did you
-say?—No, sent into the prison house!
-
-An hour or two later her husband arrived and was told that if he wanted
-to redeem his wife he must bring the white man twenty fowls. He
-succeeded in collecting sixteen, which were refused, then he made up
-the number, and so redeemed his wife and babe. This redemption must
-have cost him a great deal of money, and he was a poor man.
-
-Three days after her return to her home the wife died.
-
-It seems strange, but the child lived, and is alive to-day, a puny,
-ill-nourished child, as you may imagine.
-
-O white women, can you listen to such things unmoved? Think, then, how
-much worse it must be to see them, and live in the midst of them,
-knowing that the same thing might happen to you any day?
-
-In a village situated at some distance from the white man’s compound
-the sentries had established themselves in their usual style of living,
-in the best houses the village could boast of, and began to supply
-themselves lavishly from the gardens and poultry-houses of the
-villagers. They ordered the old men who were past rubber collecting out
-into the bush to hunt monkeys for them to feast upon.
-
-Day after day the old men went, and brought back the animals required,
-but one morning there was a heavy fall of rain.
-
-One old man refused to go out in the wet, he said that he could not
-stand the cold, and so remained in his house. His failure to go to the
-hunt was discovered by the sentries, and he was arrested by two of
-them, stripped, and held down on the ground in the open street of the
-village.
-
-Then they—but I must not tell you what they did, white people do not
-talk of such things.
-
-After that one of the sentries held the left arm of the old man out
-straight on the ground, while another, with his walking-staff (a square
-sawn stick), beat him on the wrist until at last his hand fell off. His
-sister came to his assistance, and he went away with her to his hut to
-suffer agonies of pain for months.
-
-A long time after the white man of God and his wife were visiting a
-neighbouring village, teaching the people, and this old man found
-courage to go and tell them his story, and show them his arm. Then the
-wound was green, the bones protruding, and he was in a hopeless
-condition.
-
-But the strange thing was that the arm appeared to have been cut a
-little below the elbow. The explanation was that the ends of the bones
-had become sharp, and were constantly scratching other parts of his
-body, so he had cut them off from time to time with his own knife. He,
-with the white man of God, went a long journey to the white man in
-charge of the rubber work, and showed him the wound.
-
-But nothing was done, as all his people were too much afraid to bear
-witness to the deeds of the sentries. If they had done so they might
-have been treated in the same way, or even worse. For there was
-nothing, not even murder, that the sentries were afraid to do, and
-nothing too cruel for them to think of and put in practice.
-
-I think I have told you enough to make you see that we rubber men were
-not the only ones who suffered from the presence of the white men; and
-now I must tell you more of my own story.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VI
-
-SOME HORRORS OF OUR LOT
-
-    Our work grows harder—I consult the white man of God—A strange
-    contrast—My plea unavailing—My rubber short—I am sent to the
-    prison—The captives—Their work and their punishments—The sick—The
-    new-born babe—The dead and their burial—The suspected—How they were
-    tortured—The steamer—The rubber chief—The prison opened—A
-    procession of spectres—The place of the dead—For a time peace—Work
-    for the man of God—How we fared—My reward—I wish to go home.
-
-
-I am afraid that you white people will get tired of listening to a
-constant repetition of the same story, but that is just what my life
-and the lives of my people have consisted of ever since the coming of
-Bokakala—rubber, chicotte, prison, rubber, prison, chicotte; and again
-rubber, nothing but rubber. We see no chance of anything else until we
-die.
-
-If you are tired of hearing about it, what do you think we must be of
-living in it?
-
-The rubber vines were getting worked out in our part of the forest, and
-almost every time we had to go further to get any, but at last we found
-a way of getting it quicker. It was this: when we found a good vine,
-instead of making incisions and waiting for the sap to drip from them,
-we cut the vine down, dividing it into short lengths. These we placed
-endways in a pot, and left them to drain off all the sap into the pot.
-In this way we got quite a lot of rubber from the one vine, and we
-rejoiced accordingly.
-
-For a time this way of working rubber helped us over some of our
-difficulties; it gave us a sufficient quantity in a short time, and so
-we were saved from the anger of the white man. But it was not long
-before we began to find a dearth of vines; for those we had cut were
-useless for future working, and therefore we had to take longer
-journeys into the forest than ever before.
-
-If we went too far in any direction it brought us in contact with the
-natives of other villages who were also seeking for rubber, and
-regarded us as poaching on their preserves. True, there was some rubber
-on the other side of the river, but there we dared not go, because of
-the age-long feud between the natives of that part and ourselves—we
-feared that if we went we should never return.
-
-After much consideration, I thought there was just one chance of
-getting free; so I went to see the white man of God, taking him a
-present which I hoped would show him that I really meant what I said,
-and asked him to take me on to work for him.
-
-He received the fowl I gave him, but not as a gift; he would insist on
-paying for it its full value, and giving me a few spoonfuls of salt
-over. (Truly the ways of white men are unaccountable! Some compel one
-to supply against one’s will what they want, and pay nothing or next to
-nothing for it; and then others refuse to take a thing as a gift, but
-insist on paying for it! Of course, we like the latter way, but should
-not think of doing so ourselves.)
-
-Then he explained to me that it was impossible; he could not engage any
-man who held a “book” for rubber, and as I did hold one and my name was
-on the rubber workers’ list, it was out of the question. I pleaded with
-him, Bamatafe pleaded for me. We returned again on the following day to
-try once more, but it was in vain. I had to go back to my rubber work
-in the forest.
-
-Soon after this a day came when my rubber was short weight. I had
-failed to find a good vine, and though I soaked the rubber in water to
-make it heavier, the white man noticed and refused to pass it. As a
-result, I did not return home that night, but spent it and several more
-in the white man’s prison.
-
-I had heard much about this place from Bamatafe and others, who had
-frequently been in it, and so was not so surprised as I otherwise might
-have been. Prison to us who are used to an outdoor life in the forest
-has always a horrible aspect; but such a prison as that was is beyond
-description. And yet I must tell you something about it.
-
-The building itself was a long, narrow hut with thatched roof, bamboo
-walls, and mud floor. That was all; and it was crowded promiscuously
-with men and women of all ages and conditions. These were fastened
-together with cords or chains round the neck, in groups of about ten
-with a fathom of chain or cord between each.
-
-There were old men and women with grey hair and shrivelled skins,
-looking more like moving skeletons than living people, with scarcely
-enough cloth or leaves for decent covering. Strong, capable women were
-there who should have been working happily at home for their husbands;
-women with babies only a few days’ or weeks’ old at their breasts;
-women in delicate health; young girls; the wives of husbands who had
-somehow failed to satisfy the demands made upon them; and young lads
-who had tried to shirk paddling the heavily laden rubber boats—all
-these were there, crowded together in that one shed without privacy or
-sanitary arrangement of any kind from sundown to sunrise, and some of
-them for weeks together.
-
-The smell was horrible, the hunger and thirst intense, and the
-publicity in some ways worst of all. I myself was not hungry that first
-night, and Bamatafe came to and fro with food for me on the following
-days; but much of it I never ate. Some of my fellow-prisoners were so
-ravenously hungry, that it was impossible to save any scraps, even if I
-had wanted to. Many of them, coming from a distance, had no friends to
-supply their needs.
-
-Early in the morning we were turned out in charge of sentries to clean
-the paths of the compound, carry water, work on houses, cut up and pack
-rubber, and carry the filled baskets from the store to the river ready
-for transport by canoe or boat to the place of the great rubber chief
-down river. If the work done failed to satisfy the sentry, or he had
-any old scores to pay off to a prisoner who was in his power, the
-chicotte or the butt-end of the gun was always at hand, and proved an
-easy means of chastisement for either man or woman, the latter
-frequently incurring it for nothing worse than a desire for chastity.
-
-Then at sundown we were marched back to the prison house for another
-night of horrors. It was often impossible to sleep.
-
-On one night in particular we were kept awake hour after hour by the
-groaning of some of the sick ones, and then towards morning, after a
-little sleep, we were aroused again by the puny wail of a new-born
-babe. Was it any wonder that its first cries were weak, and that the
-little life so recently given seemed on the point of ebbing away? In
-the morning the sentries agreed that the mother was not fit for work,
-and reported to the white man accordingly; but three days afterwards
-the mother was out at work in the hot sun with her baby at her back.
-
-Many prisoners died at the time of which I speak—two, three, five,
-sometimes ten in a day—there was so much hunger and thirst and
-sickness. When one died, they tied a string round his foot, and dragged
-him a little way into the bush, dug a shallow hole, and covered him
-with earth. There were so many that the place became a great mound, and
-the burials were so carelessly done that one could often see a foot,
-hand, or even head left exposed; and the stench became so bad that
-people were unable to pass by the road which was near the “grave.”
-
-And yet, bad as all this was, something happened there which made me
-glad that I was an ordinary prisoner, and not (what I had thought
-impossible) something worse. Four big, strong young men were suspected
-of having stolen some rubber from the white man’s store. It may have
-been a true accusation; that I do not know—no one knows.
-
-The white man was furious, and said that he would make an example of
-them, which he proceeded to do. Four tall poles were procured and
-planted in the ground at the back of his own house, and the four men
-were brought.
-
-Their heads and beards were shaven, they were stripped of their loin
-cloths, and tied to these poles, not only by the lower parts of their
-bodies, but by their heads, so that they could not move at all.
-
-This happened in the morning.
-
-The sun climbed up, and stood overhead—they were still there.
-
-The sun slipped down, down, down—they were still there.
-
-No food or water had they tasted all day, so they were parched with
-thirst. They pled for water, none was given; for a covering for their
-shame, no notice was taken; and at last, in sheer despair, they
-entreated that they might be shot—they would rather, far rather, die
-than endure the shame of remaining any longer in a public place in such
-a condition.
-
-At night they were released from their agony, only to be sent to
-prison, and finally exiled up river. The charge was never proved
-against them. But the white man of God heard about the affair, and
-talked the palaver with the rubber chief, and eventually they were
-released and came back to their own villages.
-
-One day we heard a steamer whistle; it was coming to our landing-place.
-“Oh, joy! perhaps the white man will let us go,” we thought. He often
-did send prisoners off to their homes when a steamer whistled, which
-seemed strange to us in those days, but it mattered not to us why he
-did it, if only we might get free.
-
-To our disappointment he did not do so on this occasion, and we soon
-heard that the big chief of rubber had come. We wondered what he would
-do to us, if things might be worse, although we did not see how that
-could be.
-
-Afterwards we found that the white men of God had been writing many
-letters to him about us and the way in which we were treated, and he
-had come to see for himself. He did so, with the result that he opened
-the doors of the prison house, and told us to walk out. He commenced to
-count us, but gave it up: we were so many. He told us we were free, and
-could go to our homes. We could scarcely believe it, it seemed to be
-too good to be true; but we immediately set off with hearts full of
-joy.
-
-You may think what a merry procession we must have been, perhaps even
-that we were singing and dancing with delight, because we were free!
-Not so; we must have looked more like a procession of spectres. Some,
-too weak to walk, were carried on the backs of others not much stronger
-than themselves; women weak and ill, some soon to become mothers, and
-others with young babes looking as sickly as themselves; men and women
-both so famished with hunger that they had tied strips of plantain
-fibre tightly round their stomachs to try and stay the craving for
-food!
-
-How eagerly we drank the water and devoured the little food that was
-given to us by friendly people as we passed, and how the old men and
-women called out blessings on the head of the chief of rubber and the
-white man of God who had interceded for us! We noticed that as we
-passed through their compound the white men and women of God were
-actually crying with tears for our sorrows, and yet how glad they were
-to see us free!
-
-Yes, we were free, but many who lived at a distance and were old or
-sick never reached their homes again. One died at the place of the
-white man of God, two or three in villages a little further on, and
-many who entered the forest were never heard of again; they probably
-died of hunger, and their bodies must have been devoured by wild
-animals.
-
-I was one of the last to leave the prison, and as I did so the great
-chief was making inquiries about the prison grave of which he had
-heard. He said to me, “Will you show me the place?”
-
-I answered, “Oh, yes, white man, it is not far. Just over in the bush
-yonder; but if you come, bring a cloth to hold your nose; for you will
-not reach the place without it.”
-
-He said, “Is it as bad as that? Then I think I will not go.” And he did
-not.
-
-The end of it was that the bad white man who had been so cruel to us
-was sent away to Europe, and a new one came to us who was much kinder
-in his treatment of us, and for a time we had peace.
-
-Then came my opportunity; for while there were not so many palavers
-going on, there was freer intercourse between the rubber white men and
-the white men of God, and so it became possible for the latter to take
-a few of us rubber men to work for them.
-
-As I had begged so long for that very chance I was one of the first
-chosen; and how can I describe the joy with which I said farewell to
-rubber work, and went with my wife and child to reside near the
-compound of my new master.
-
-Everything was so different; it was like having a rest, although, of
-course, I do not mean that we did not have any work. We had plenty, and
-it had to be well done; but there were regular times, and home and food
-and a welcome from the wife in the evening when one returned from work
-tired, instead of cold, wet, hunger, and fear in the forest. I thought
-I had indeed reached a good place, and should never want to leave it,
-so I set to work with a will.
-
-By and by I was taught to use the saw, and became one of the staff of
-pit sawyers who were cutting up wood for house building. We worked from
-sunrise to sunset, with two hours off for rest mid-day; but sometimes
-we did piece-work, and then our hours were shorter. We received a
-monthly wage, and a weekly allowance for rations; and as our wives kept
-their own gardens, and sometimes went fishing, we were well supplied
-with food and soon got strong and well.
-
-Each morning before we commenced work there was a service in the chapel
-which we all had to attend, and later on there was school for the boys
-and domestic servants of the white people and for our children and any
-who liked to attend from the villages. Some evenings there were
-preaching services or classes for inquirers, and occasionally the white
-man showed us pictures with a lamp.
-
-The pictures appeared on a large cloth which was hung from above, and
-we liked seeing them very much. But we were also somewhat afraid of
-them, especially when we saw some of our own people who were dead—we
-thought it must be their spirits! And when we went round to the other
-side to see their backs, behold, they had none, but only another front,
-so we thought there must be something strange about them; for we have
-never seen people with two fronts and no backs!
-
-Every first day of the week we did no work, but went with our wives and
-other people to hear the teaching. Before this time I knew but very
-little of it: I knew that it was about one Jesus, but who or what He
-was, or why they talked so much about Him I could not understand. Now I
-began to learn that He was the Son of God, and came to earth for us. I
-heard about His birth, life and death, and how He died for us—instead
-of us—just as the peace-offering is killed in our country to save the
-whole village. We kill a slave; but God sent His Son, and Jesus came
-willingly and gave His life for us. Truly, He must have loved us!
-
-After a time I joined the inquirers’ class, for I wanted to learn more
-about Him, and to belong to His company.
-
-The time passed very quickly, it seemed but a little until my book,
-which was for twelve moons, was finished. I received my payment—brass
-rods, cloth, salt, &c.—and felt quite a rich man. Never had I possessed
-so much before; and I wanted to go to Ekaka and show off my riches.
-When my master asked what I purposed doing I said that I was tired and
-would like to go home for a while to rest.
-
-I went, and soon after that my master went to Europe for his rest also.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VII
-
-BACK TO SLAVERY
-
-    My welcome at home—My respite and its end—The forest sentry—The
-    little boy—My father’s appeal and its result—I intervene—The
-    sentry’s revenge—A rubber slave once more—I appeal to the man of
-    God—Disappointment—“Nothing but rubber till I die!”—The hopeless
-    toil—The coming of the pestilence—The witch-doctor’s medicine—The
-    desolation—But still the rubber!
-
-
-I was well received by my people at Ekaka, and my father, now an old
-man, was proud to see me return with my riches.
-
-I also had a good welcome from the family of Bamatafe, for had I not
-brought brass rods, salt, knives, a blanket, and other things for which
-they craved? When a man is paid off at the end of a year’s work he
-always gets plenty of visitors, and is much praised by all his
-townspeople as long as his riches last. After that they seem to lose
-interest in him, and do not care for him any longer.
-
-But at first, as I said, I had a good time. My father was immensely
-pleased with a present of a red blanket; the father of Bamatafe
-received a knife and some brass rods, which my father had smelted for
-him into anklets; the salt was used for feasts and presents, and it was
-but a few days before we found that we had nothing left of all my
-wages!
-
-Now, thought I, I would rest. A little fishing, a little hunting, a
-good deal of lying down in the big palaver house, and very much talking
-and telling of news—in fact, a good time generally—and then one day
-came the end of it.
-
-On that day, I cannot forget it, a big bully of a sentry, armed with a
-gun and chicotte, came into Ekaka to see about sending the rubber men
-off to the bush. As he passed my father’s place he began to grumble to
-the old man about many things—he did not provide a sufficient number of
-rubber workers; he did not give enough honour to the sentries placed in
-his village; one of the rubber men had died, fallen from the vine he
-was cutting high up in the top of a tree, and been picked up dead, and
-my father had not brought any one forward to take his place on the
-white man’s list.
-
-This sentry proceeded to seize a little boy of about twelve years of
-age, a nephew of the deceased man, and ordered him to get rubber. My
-father ventured to plead for him, representing that he was too young,
-and not strong enough for the work.
-
-He was answered by curses, insults were heaped upon him, then the bully
-took his own knife from him and actually cut off his long beard, of
-which he and all his family were so proud; and finally he struck the
-old man on the chest with the butt-end of his gun, felling him to the
-ground.
-
-I had kept quietly in the hut, but this was too much. I sprang up and
-rushed to my father’s aid, and that was my undoing. The sentry took his
-revenge for my interference by informing the white man that I was
-sitting down at home doing nothing, and ought I not to be sent out to
-work rubber?
-
-The white man called me, and gave me a book for rubber. In vain I told
-him that I was only resting in town for a little while, and intended to
-return to my work for the white men of God; my name was put on the
-list, and once more I was obliged to seek for rubber. The conditions
-were much the same as before, but we were obliged to go further away
-than ever to find the rubber vines, as they were getting so scarce.
-
-After some months of this work, which we all hate, I heard the news
-that my white man had returned to our country.
-
-“Now,” thought I, “all will be well. I will go and plead with him, and
-beg him to redeem me from this slavery, and then I will work for him
-again.”
-
-So when I took my next lot of rubber in to the white man, after
-receiving my three spoonfuls of salt in return for my basket of rubber
-balls, I went on to see the other white men.
-
-It was true, the white man for whom I had worked had arrived while we
-were in the forest, and was just settled down to work again. When he
-and his wife saw me they gave me a hearty welcome, evidently thinking
-that I, like so many others, had just called to welcome them back to
-our land. He knew nothing of what had taken place in his absence.
-
-I told him all my story, everything that had happened to me and mine
-while he was in Europe; and asked him, now that he had returned, to
-redeem me from my slavery, and let me come back and work for him again.
-
-But new white men had come and new rules had been made since his
-departure from our land, and again it was not permissible for a man
-holding a rubber book to take service with any one. All my hopes were
-dashed to the ground; but still I pleaded with him with all the fluency
-of which I was capable—he had done it before, and if then, why not now?
-We can understand white men making rules for black, but how can they
-interfere with each other? I thought that, if I only kept at it long
-enough, I should surely win.
-
-But at last I was convinced of the truth of the statement, and I wept.
-Yes, strong man as I was, I wept; for anger and sorrow were in my
-heart, and I turned to the white man as I stood there on the grass
-outside his house.
-
-“White man,” said I, “if this is true, there is no hope for me. It will
-be nothing but rubber until I die, and rubber is death. Dig a grave
-here, and bury me now! I may as well be buried in my grave as go on
-working rubber.” And I meant it.
-
-But back to rubber I had to go, with no hope of ever doing anything
-else; back into a slavery which would last until death, and from which
-there is no escape. For if you run away from one district, you only
-reach another, and another white man as eager for rubber as the one you
-left. Then he will make you work for him, if he does nothing worse; he
-may send you back, and then—chicotte, prison, and more rubber!
-
-So I and my people went on day after day, and month after month, with
-little pay (what we did receive was only a mockery of the word), no
-comfort, no home life, constant anxiety as to our wives and daughters
-in the villages, and nothing to look forward to for our sons but that
-they must follow in our steps, and of necessity become rubber workers
-as soon as, or even before, they were old enough to have sufficient
-strength for the work.
-
-White men, do you wonder that the words, “Botofe bo lē iwa” (“Rubber is
-death”) passed into a proverb amongst us, and that we hated the very
-name of rubber with a deadly hatred? The only ones who were kind to us
-in those days were the white men of God. They visited our villages
-frequently to teach us and our families, and sometimes on their
-journeys they would meet with us in the forest, and stop for awhile to
-talk to us.
-
-“Come,” they said; “listen to the words of God, the news of salvation.”
-
-We came, and they told us the same story of Jesus and salvation from
-sin; it is a good story, and we liked to hear it. But we would say,
-“White man, you bring us news of salvation from sin; when will you
-bring us news of salvation from rubber? If you brought that, then we
-should have time to listen to and think about your other news.”
-
-Then came a time of awful pestilence, so terrible that we do not
-understand or even mention it, lest we ourselves be smitten like
-others. When we speak of it we call it the “sickness from above” or the
-“sickness of heaven”; but the white men, who are not afraid to mention
-it, call it smallpox.
-
-It raged in all our villages, and spread from hut to hut like a fire.
-We took our sick ones into the forest, and a few people who had
-recovered from the disease many years before went to look after them.
-Crowds of people died, and though some recovered, they were very weak
-and ill after it.
-
-The white men of God put some medicine into the arms of many of our
-people. It was cut in with a needle, but we did not understand it, and
-most of us refused to have it done, as we thought it would hurt. But we
-noticed that many of those who did take the medicine did not get the
-sickness, or at least only slightly.
-
-In the midst of it all one of our own witch-doctors arose and announced
-that a cure had been revealed to him, and as he himself was immune from
-the disease, he would come and put his medicine on all who were
-prepared to pay his fee. He made an itineration through all the
-villages with much singing, dancing, and shaking of rattles, and in
-each village he took up a stand to administer his medicine to all who
-would pay.
-
-The sick people were brought out of the bush, the suspected cases from
-the huts, and the strong ones in the villages came also, and all were
-anointed with the medicine on payment of a brass rod. Such crowds there
-were; very few refused, I think only the children of God, and they did
-it in spite of much opposition. Their relatives tried to persuade them
-to take it, but when the witch-doctor heard of and asked the reason of
-their refusal, and was told that it was because they were children of
-God, he said, “Leave them alone; if that is the palaver, it is of no
-use to persuade them; they will never give in.”
-
-But, strange to say, the sickness was worse than ever after this
-episode, until the people got tired of trying to isolate the cases and
-just left them in the villages. Crowds of people still died at this
-time, and many of the corpses were left unburied, until at last we
-began to think that we should all be finished off by the sickness,
-which lasted many moons, perhaps sixteen or eighteen.
-
-When at last the sickness did cease, the villages were half empty,
-whole families had been swept away, and the few who were left were so
-weak that most of the work in the villages had to be left undone. Then
-many more died of the hunger and after-effects, because they were
-unable to work to get food, and had no friends left to help them.
-
-But one thing had to go on without cessation all the time, and that was
-rubber collecting. It must have varied in quantity, but the supply was
-never allowed to stop during all that dreadful time.
-
-When our wives and children or mothers and fathers were sick and we
-knew not what the end of the sickness would be, we still had to leave
-them with others, or even alone, and go into the forest on another
-errand—that of rubber collecting! Many a relative died in those days
-without our ever knowing of their illness; but we were rubber men. Were
-we not also slaves, having no choice but to go, even though the rubber
-sap seemed to us sometimes like drops of our blood?
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER VIII
-
-OTHER CHANGES. HOPE DEFERRED
-
-    A change of labour—We become hunters—A new demand—And new
-    difficulties—Failure—The sentry’s demand—The old men’s
-    plea—Murder—We tell the men of God—And complain to the rubber
-    man—The white chief—The things written in a book—And no remedy
-    comes—Hunting again—The English visitor—The white woman—Results of
-    making complaints—The sentries’ threats—The one way of
-    escape—“Better to be with the hunters than the hunted”—Another
-    sorrow—The sleeping-sickness—“Just a little while, and they die”—We
-    cry to the white people.
-
-
-As I was telling you before, many of our people died of the “sickness
-from above,” including a number of the young men who worked rubber. Of
-necessity the supply of rubber became very small when there were so few
-to collect it in the forest.
-
-After the sickness was finished, and the white men found that it was
-really true that so many of our people were dead, and that others were
-still sick and unfit for work, they called us young men of Ekaka
-together and told us some very good news. It was this. That they had
-decided that we should make no more rubber, but be freed entirely from
-that work on condition that we men would hunt antelopes for the white
-man’s table, and bring smoked meat for his workmen’s rations, and that
-our women would supply tökö (manioca cooked ready for eating) at stated
-intervals.
-
-We agreed with much joy, and all the way home that day we were singing
-and shouting, so as to let every one know of our good fortune. We went
-also to tell the white men of God our news; they were glad to hear
-about it, and gave us much good advice as to keeping up a regular
-supply of food, and not bringing palavers upon ourselves by failing to
-do our part. We heartily assented to all they said, for we were ready
-to do anything if only we might be freed from rubber work.
-
-The hunting was started at once, and we kept up the supply of one or
-two antelopes weekly, and smoked rations for a long time; but by and by
-a new white man came to us from up-country and he made new rules for
-us.
-
-An order was given that we must procure four living antelopes every
-week, and in order to do this all of us who were strong enough to hunt
-had to be in the forest almost all the time, just sending in the
-antelopes as we caught them.
-
-It was not so bad in dry weather—then we were used to go on long hunts
-in the old days of freedom—but now it was all the year round, wet
-season as well as dry, night and day; for antelopes began to get scarce
-as the rubber had done, and we had to penetrate a long way into the
-forest in order to get them. We found to our cost that hunting was not
-play under such circumstances; but even so, it was better than rubber,
-and we tried to fulfil the white man’s requirements.
-
-But one day—the day for taking an antelope to the white man—we failed
-to procure one in time for the usual morning visit, when we were in the
-habit of sending it in.
-
-I suppose the white man became impatient and dispatched a sentry—a
-native of our country who was known to us all as a fool—armed with a
-gun and cartridges, to inquire why the animal had not been sent in.
-
-When this sentry, Kebocu, arrived in our village, he found it almost
-deserted. Only one or two old men and a few women were there; but, my
-father not being present, his friend, Bomoya, went out to meet the
-white man’s messenger and inquire what he wanted. Bomoya was closely
-followed by Isekasofa, another old friend and associate of my father’s.
-
-They exchanged greetings with Kebocu and asked his business.
-
-“Where is the antelope for the white man’s soup?” he asked.
-
-They explained that we had failed to catch any on the day previous, and
-that they were expecting our arrival at any time, and then the animal
-would be dispatched immediately.
-
-His answer was to raise and load his gun, an action not understood by
-the old men, who simply stood still waiting. Calling to a woman who was
-crossing the road to get out of the way, he fired. The shot passed
-through Bomoya’s thigh, disabling him; but old Isekasofa, stooping down
-to hide behind his friend, received the bullet in his breast, and
-dropped dead on the spot.
-
-Just as the deed was done, we all rushed into the village with our
-antelopes, proving the truth of what the old men had said. We heard all
-about the shooting from the woman who had seen it all, and whose
-husband was a workman of the white men of God. Kebocu himself ran away
-when he saw us all come into the village.
-
-Basofa, the son of Isekasofa, and another man picked up the corpse, put
-it on a bier of forest poles, and set off with many others of us to
-tell our sorrowful story to the white man of God.
-
-We arrived first at the school-house where Mama, the white woman, was
-teaching the children; when she saw us and our burden she was much
-grieved, for Isekasofa was a friend of the white people and had visited
-them only a few days previously. We went on to the dwelling-house, and
-told our story to the two white men of God, who sympathised with us in
-our sorrow, and wrote a letter to the white man of rubber about the
-outrage.
-
-We went on to the rubber compound, and waited there a long time,
-because the white man had gone to the river. He kept us so long waiting
-to show him the corpse of Isekasofa (he knew why we were there, for
-messengers had been sent to tell him) that, sitting there in the heat
-of the midday sun, we became very angry, and some of our people even
-set out to attack the village of which Kebocu, the sentry, was a
-native.
-
-At last the white man came and listened to our story, but he seemed so
-strange that we thought—of course we did not know—that he had been
-drinking the strong palm-wine of Europe which makes people dizzy in
-their heads. Once a white man gave some to one of our people, and he
-was quite foolish after it.
-
-We were persuaded not to attack Kebocu’s village, as the white man
-would see that he was punished; and we went back to our own place to
-weep for and bury our dead, and attend to the wounded man.
-
-It was but a few days after this episode that a great chief called a
-judge came from down-country to make inquiries about our part, and hear
-palavers.
-
-This was the first time a white man had come on such an errand, and
-numbers of our people gathered at the house of the white man of God and
-told our troubles to the chief. He listened and questioned us, and made
-inquiries of other people who had seen the things we brought forward,
-and another white man wrote many, many words in a book. That book, they
-said, would go down-country to another great chief, and then everything
-would be settled satisfactorily.
-
-As Kebocu had not been punished or even arrested for causing the death
-of Isekasofa, that affair was also talked about, and Bomoya was carried
-in from his home that the white man might see for himself the truth of
-our statements. His wound was in a terrible condition, and was turning
-green inside. All this was also written in the book.
-
-The book was sent down-country; the white men both went their way; and
-we never heard any more. Kebocu was never punished, but lived in his
-own village a free man. Bomoya recovered, because the white men of God
-made medicine for his wounds, but he was always lame.
-
-It made us very angry when, some time after his partial recovery, he
-was imprisoned for some weeks—because he was found in his village, and
-not out in the forest hunting antelopes for the white man’s soup! Just
-as if a lame man would be of any use in a hunt with nets and spears!
-
-We continued our hunting week after week, not only to supply the white
-man’s table, but also to provide rations (either of meat or fish) for
-his sentries and workmen, and our women had to provide manioca for the
-same reason.
-
-It meant much work for us all; not only work, but constant exposure to
-the cold and damp of the forest. It was worse in the wet season, when
-many of our people contracted a sickness of the chest which is most
-painful and often ends in death. In fact, the providing of food was
-getting to be almost as great a tax upon us as the rubber had been. And
-we thought, “If the rubber work never ends, the food work will not;
-they will never give up calling for food!”
-
-We had no comfort at home, for we were rarely there. We had nothing to
-look forward to in the future but work—either rubber or food—so we gave
-up hoping; our hearts were broken; we were as people half dead!
-
-Two or three times white people came again to ask about our affairs.
-One was a very tall Englishman with a wonderful dog such as we had
-never seen before. He was very kind to us, made many inquiries about
-our treatment, and gave us presents before he left. We asked him to
-come back to us again, but he never did. We were told that he was
-talking about our troubles and writing them in a book in England, but
-that is all we know about him.
-
-Another who came was a white woman. She stayed for a little while at
-the rubber place, and used to ask us many questions and talked much to
-us and to the white men. But we could never really understand about
-her; why should a woman come to see about palavers—how could she settle
-them? She soon went away, and we did not think any more about her.
-
-Others came at intervals—great chiefs from down-river, I suppose they
-were—to some of whom we told our grievances; but we soon found that the
-rubber white men did not like us to do so, and sometimes we were
-punished or even imprisoned after the departure of the white men to
-whom we had made reports. So you will not be surprised when I tell you
-that we got to hide our troubles, and did not tell even when an
-opportunity presented itself.
-
-Many times we have been asked by other white men of God who have come
-on visits, “Why do you not tell these bad doings of which we hear? Why
-do you not report to the white chiefs?” It was like this: we were
-afraid to tell—afraid of the consequences to ourselves afterwards; we
-had been threatened with such dreadful things by the sentries if we
-dared to speak of their doings.
-
-I do not wonder that they did not want their doings talked about, for I
-have not told you one-tenth of the bad things they did, and the worst
-of the things cannot be even mentioned. And then, so many promises
-which had been made to us by white men had been broken, of what use was
-it to get more promises from them? They would only be broken like the
-rest, we thought, and so we gave up, and when the white men tried to
-find out things we even ran away and hid, rather than tell them, and so
-bring greater trouble on ourselves and our families.
-
-There was just one way out of our slavery, and some of our young men
-availed themselves of it. It was to become a sentry oneself. Only a few
-had the opportunity, and those who took it soon became as bad as the
-other sentries with whom they came in contact. They found that the only
-way to please the white man was to get plenty of rubber; and in order
-to do that they were obliged to use the same means as the others and
-become cruel oppressors of their own people.
-
-When they were remonstrated with they would say, “It is better to be
-with the hunters than with the hunted. We have the chance to join the
-hunters: what more?” I never had the chance myself; perhaps if I had I
-might have done the same; for if you compare our lives with the lives
-of the sentries, I do not think that even a white man can wonder that
-some of us chose the easy way.
-
-
-
-There is one thing of which I have not yet told you; we think it is one
-of the worst of all our trials. We scarcely know about the beginning of
-it, but it seems to have been soon after the end of the “sickness of
-heaven” that this other sickness began to come amongst us. We call it
-“nkangi ea iló” (“sickness of sleep”), and many refer to it as “this
-desolation,” “losilo lóne.”
-
-Both names describe it. When a person has the disease, he gradually
-gets more and more languid until at last he sleeps all the time, and
-the disease destroys him. We have no hope for the future on account of
-this disease, as well as our other troubles; no one ever recovers, but
-generally the whole family take it, and die one after the other, until
-whole villages are almost wiped out.
-
-At first only a few people had it; and though we did not understand it,
-we thought that, like other sicknesses, it would be cured. But in a
-very few years it has spread from house to house and village to
-village, away into the back towns and far up-river; it seems as if it
-had no ending!
-
-Numbers of people who are weak and sickly contract it, and many more
-who are exposed to all weathers rubber seeking, hunting, or fishing,
-and who come back home with some simple malady, get the sleep sickness
-as well, and then—just a little while—and they die!
-
-Some of the largest and best populated villages are now reduced to a
-few huts, the majority of which are inhabited by sick folk. Men and
-women of all ages and little children all alike take the disease, and
-all alike die.
-
-In the old days, if a person died in one hut, a child was born in
-another to take his place and name; but now—every day the death wail is
-heard, every day funerals are taking place—but it is a rare event for a
-child to be born. You see just one baby here, and another there, and
-that is all! And therefore we have come to say, “We shall all be
-finished soon, all get the disease, none recover. If we are to have it,
-we shall have it: what more?”
-
-Perhaps you think we should take medicine for this sickness, but we can
-find none of any use. The white men of God have tried many kinds of
-medicine: medicine to drink, and also the kind which they put into
-one’s arm with a needle; but these only did good for a little while,
-and then the sickness was as bad as ever. Our own people have tried
-their own medicines, our witch-doctors also have tried to cure it by
-means of their fetishes; but all alike are useless. We often ask the
-white men if their doctors have found the medicine; but we always get
-the same answer, “No, not yet.” We wonder that the white men with all
-their wisdom have not found it: if they have not, who can?
-
-The white men of God are continually teaching us that in view of all
-this sickness, now is the time for us to settle the palaver between us
-and God by believing in His Son Jesus, so as to be ready if death comes
-to us. And then our witch-doctors step in and say, “Is not this closing
-of the eyes in prayer, which these white men have taught our people,
-the cause of the sickness of sleep?”
-
-What can we do? We go and hear the teaching, and it is good: we agree
-to it. Then we hear what the witch-doctors say, and for a while we
-absent ourselves. And all the time the sickness goes on and increases.
-O white people, will you not pray to your God for the medicine? will
-you not try and send it to us soon, that this desolation may be ended,
-and some of us be saved alive?
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER IX
-
-THE ELDERS OF EUROPE
-
-    More white men from Europe—Fears and curiosity—The white men
-    inquire about us—We tell them of our state—And our oppressors—The
-    knotted strings and their story—“These things are bad”—The white
-    men’s promises—Better times—Soon ended—Rubber again—The old
-    toil—The men of the river—The demands on the villages—The chiefs in
-    power—Chiefs and the sentries—The death wail and the white man—“We
-    are very poor.”
-
-
-One Saturday evening a big steamer came to the white man’s beach, and
-soon after the news spread throughout our villages that a lot of white
-men from Europe—old men with grey hair—had come to see and judge of our
-condition for themselves, and to listen to what we had to tell them.
-
-Some of us were afraid to go near them; we had not had a good
-experience of white men in the past, and we kept away. But others were
-curious to see the elders of Europe, and so they went to take a look at
-them from a distance, and then came back and reported to us who stayed
-at home. There were, said they, three strange white men, said to be
-settlers of palavers, two of whom were in truth old, grey-headed men;
-one other was a medicine-man. These were accompanied by the great
-rubber chief, as well as the white men who worked the steamer. They had
-also heard that we were all invited to go to the steamer on the next
-day and state our grievances.
-
-Then while we were still talking about it, the white men of God sent to
-advise us not to hide anything, but to come and tell these white men
-all the palavers we could remember, giving names, and bringing
-eye-witnesses whenever we could. They also said that these white men
-had promised that we should be protected, and that no harm should come
-to us as the result of our making our grievances known.
-
-This reassured us, and we thought that as these white men were not boys
-but old and white-haired, they were worthy of respect, and their word
-should be true. Therefore we gathered together, we and our chiefs, and
-we told them many, many things—things which grieved and surprised and
-made them very angry.
-
-We told them how we had to make rubber when the vines were practically
-finished in our district; how we had to get animals all the year round
-and in all weathers, and fish, no matter what the state of the river
-might be; how our wives could scarcely prepare manioca for our own
-families because of the constant demands of the white men and his
-sentries. Then, gaining courage, we went on to tell of the treatment
-which we received from the sentries in our villages, of their cruelties
-and oppression, their murders and thefts, their wicked treatment of our
-wives and daughters, and many other abuses which I cannot tell you of.
-
-Many chiefs came from far distant villages and districts, bringing with
-them long knotted strings or bundles of twigs, each knot or twig
-representing a person killed or a woman stolen.
-
-Everything we told was written down, and the white men of God told many
-things, and these also were written down. This went on for two or three
-days, until at last the old white chief said, “Have you anything more
-to tell?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” we said, “many things, white man; we can go on like this for
-three more days, if you want to hear all.”
-
-Said he, “We have heard sufficient; we know that these things are bad,
-why should we hear more?”
-
-We were given twenty brass rods each, and told that no one would molest
-us, and that soon these bad things would be ended, as the palaver would
-be settled in Europe.
-
-So we went home, and waited. We did not expect much, for we had been
-told the same thing before, and we had given up hoping long ago.
-
-But after long time of waiting changes did come once more. Bokakala’s
-white men of rubber did not come to us any more, but Bula Matadi (the
-State) himself came and said that now he would send his own white men
-to us, and that they were good; and there would be no more bad doings
-in our villages; as they would recall all the sentries and not send any
-more out to live with us, and oppress and ill-treat us and our
-families.
-
-And Bula Matadi really came, and since then we have had better times
-than before. Having no sentries in our villages, but only our own
-headmen, makes it much better for us, and far safer for our wives and
-families who are left at home when we are away in the forest.
-
-For a little while there was no rubber work; we cut posts and bamboos
-for building, and firewood for steamers, and there was always the food
-tax which pressed hard on men and women alike. It always has been a
-heavy task to supply that, and is still—just as much food is needed,
-and we are so few, so very few to keep up the quantity.
-
-However, we congratulated ourselves on not having rubber to work, when
-lo! Bula Matadi himself suddenly ordered us to begin working rubber
-again!
-
-It seems that there is no way of pleasing a white man except by
-providing him with rubber. I do not mean the white men of God—they are
-different. But the others, whether they belong to Bokakala or Bula
-Matadi, whether they live up-country or down, or away on the big river,
-they are all alike in feeling a hunger for rubber.
-
-So now we are away in the forest for two months, and in our homes for
-one. The two months are spent in collecting rubber, and making it into
-long strips to take to the white man. Each man has to make six strips
-for each month, and take them to the white man once in three
-months—eighteen strips at a time. Then we get a piece of cloth or a
-shirt or a plate as payment if the rubber is good and the quantity
-sufficient; if it is not, then we get very little or no payment, and if
-the shortage is of frequent occurrence, it may be prison.
-
-We are better off in having a longer time for getting the rubber; but
-we have long distances to go in order to reach any vines, and then we
-have to cut them down and sometimes dig up the roots in order to get
-sufficient of the sap.
-
-And we have more comfort, because, going for a longer time, we make
-better shelters, and take our hunting-nets and spears with us, and so
-succeed in getting some fresh animal food. If several of us are in the
-same part of the forest, it is easy to set up our nets round a herd of
-wild pigs or some antelopes. Some go in and beat the bush, others wait
-outside the nets with poised spears, and it is not long before we have
-some animal for our evening meal.
-
-The people who live on the river bank, and have to be always providing
-wood for passing steamers, or fish and manioca for rations for Bula
-Matadi’s soldiers and workmen, and fresh meat for his own table, are
-really worse off in some ways than we who are now on rubber work,
-because they must take their portion every seven or fifteen days, and
-if they fail to do so they are imprisoned.
-
-Then demands are made of some villages to supply fowls and eggs at odd
-times and in varying quantities. We wonder sometimes what the white men
-do with so many eggs; they seem to be always wanting them. One of our
-people who has frequently to supply eggs says that he thinks the white
-men must be under the impression that we black men lay eggs the same as
-fowls do, for they are always calling for them, whether or not the
-fowls are laying!
-
-Now that there are no sentries in our villages the chiefs of the people
-are expected by the white men to exercise more authority. But during
-the years of the sentries’ rule the chiefs were divested of every bit
-of authority, and systematically degraded in the sight of their people.
-So bad did it become that a chief spent a great part of his time in the
-chain, or in the bush hiding from the sentries.
-
-Naturally the children and young people lost their respect for the
-chiefs, and many an old man whose word a few years ago was law has
-found, to his shame and chagrin, that he is considered as of no
-importance and his word as valueless.
-
-Sometimes the old men get into trouble for things that are not really
-their fault.
-
-For instance, a little while ago some one died in a village near the
-white man’s compound, and, as usual, the people commenced wailing. From
-evening until far into the night the death wail rang out, and the sound
-disturbed the white man’s rest. On the next day the chief was arrested
-and put in prison for not having stopped the noises—and he remained
-there for three days and nights. He is absolutely dispossessed of his
-power, no one thinks of obeying him; and yet he is punished for the
-inevitable outcome of the rule of the sentries in our villages.
-
-It was much easier to kill the authority of the chiefs than it is to
-give it back to them. Of course, there is one great chief, who wears a
-medal, and is in constant intercourse with the white men of Bula
-Matadi. He has plenty of authority—we think too much—and he uses it
-largely in getting a great crowd of wives and making it difficult for
-the young men to get any. Being rich, he can pay enormous prices for
-women, and demand the same. That is one of our grievances at the
-present time.
-
-It is our custom to pay for our wives to their fathers and guardians,
-and the present high prices and scarcity of brass rods are making it
-almost impossible for a young man to get a wife, and this leads to
-other bad palavers.
-
-We are very poor—poorer than ever, because the prices of food and other
-things are higher than before, and yet those who provide the food tax
-do not receive any more for what they supply. Nowadays our women have
-no heavy brass anklets, gaiters, or neck ornaments; we are often glad
-to sell the knives, which were our pride in the old days, for rods with
-which to settle our palavers.
-
-So, although we are better off in some ways since the changes came, we
-still have our troubles. We are but few and weak, and those who are
-stronger than we still oppress and tread us down. We are still slaves,
-and even if our slavery is a little less hard than of old, it is still
-slavery and still irksome to us and our children.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-CHAPTER X
-
-THINGS WE WANT TO KNOW
-
-    My story is finished—The past and the present—Why are these things
-    so?—The old days—Now we are white men’s slaves—How long will it
-    last?—We are dying—Our only rest is death—How long, how long?
-
-
-White men of Europe, my story is finished. I have told you about the
-past, and the two kinds of slavery in which we have been bound; I have
-told you about the present, our constant work, the difficulty in which
-our chiefs find themselves placed, our inability to marry because of
-our poverty, our sickness, the desolation which broods over our
-villages, the lack of children to take the places of those who die. I
-think I have told you sufficient to show you that we are in need of
-pity and help.
-
-I want to ask you, white people of Europe, two questions. The first is,
-“Why are these things so?”
-
-Long ago, our fathers tell us and some of us can remember, there were
-no white people in our land; we lived alone and happily in our own way.
-True, there were feuds and fights, quarrels and bloodshed, and a kind
-of slavery, but the country was ours, the forest was ours in which to
-hunt, the river was ours in which to fish, the fruits of the forest and
-the produce of our gardens were ours to appease our hunger. We did not
-know anything about white men, nor did we wish to.
-
-And then—suddenly they came in their steamers and settled amongst us.
-And gradually we learnt that these white men, who came to us uninvited,
-are our masters—we, our families, our forests, the produce of our
-gardens, the spoil of our hunting and fishing—all belong to them. And
-we cannot understand why it should be so.
-
-Once more, we have to work for the white man all the time. Now, when
-the work is lighter than ever, we are in the forest two out of every
-three months. We must get a certain quantity of rubber, or there is
-prison for us, and, when we come out of prison, more rubber must be
-made in place of what was short before we can make a start on the next
-three-monthly portion.
-
-Those of us who are taking food are out on the river fishing from the
-first to the fifth working day, and we take in the food on the sixth.
-If we hunt, we must be continually going to the forest, which is not
-any better. The food-tax men are worse off than the rubber men at
-present. For all this constant work we receive very little pay, and, if
-we complain, we are told that all this work is “wuta” (“tax”). We knew
-about “wuta” long ago before the white men came, but our “wuta” was to
-pass over a part of what we had in consideration of some benefit
-received, or the use of some implement, or in order to be freed from
-some obligation, but we never understood it to mean all that we had or
-anything which would take all our time. Now, everything else has to be
-let go in order to get “wuta” for Bula Matadi, and I would ask you
-white men, Why is it so?
-
-I have only one more question to ask you. It is this, For how long will
-it last?
-
-We were young men when it commenced, now we are middle-aged, and we
-seem no nearer to the end of it than we were at first. Still there is
-the demand for rubber, rubber, rubber!
-
-Many of our people have died from exposure to cold and heat, or from
-lack of comfort; many others from accidents, such as falling from the
-rubber vines, and many more from the pestilences of which I have told
-you.
-
-White men, I tell you the truth: we are dying, soon our villages will
-be put out as a fire that is quenched.
-
-And still we are working, still we are slaves to the white men.
-
-And we have nothing to look forward to, as far as we can see, except
-constant work—and death. We have heard that when a man reaches what the
-white men call forty years of age his tax palaver is finished; but that
-time must be in very old age, for no one ever seems to become old
-enough to leave off work. No, the only rest we can look forward to is
-death!
-
-The white men of God are still with us, and they still tell us the news
-of salvation from sin. That is good news.
-
-But again I say that what we want to hear is the news of salvation from
-rubber. How long before we shall hear that news? How long a time must
-pass before this “wuta” business is finished? How long shall we wait
-before we get a little rest—apart from death?
-
-
-                               THE END.
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOKWALA ***
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the
-United States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
-  This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-  most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
-  restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
-  under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
-  eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
-  United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where
-  you are located before using this eBook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that:
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
-  the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
-  you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
-  to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
-  agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
-  within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
-  legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
-  payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
-  Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
-  Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
-  Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
-  you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
-  does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-  License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
-  copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
-  all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
-  works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
-  any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
-  electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
-  receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
-  distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org
-
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without
-widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/old/67371-0.zip b/old/67371-0.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 11ace15..0000000
--- a/old/67371-0.zip
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/old/67371-h.zip b/old/67371-h.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index f068159..0000000
--- a/old/67371-h.zip
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/old/67371-h/67371-h.htm b/old/67371-h/67371-h.htm
deleted file mode 100644
index cca4d5e..0000000
--- a/old/67371-h/67371-h.htm
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,3633 +0,0 @@
-<!DOCTYPE html
-PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd">
-<!-- This HTML file has been automatically generated from an XML source on 2022-02-10T20:36:37Z using SAXON HE 9.9.1.8 . -->
-<html lang="en">
-<head>
-<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8">
-<title>Bokwala: The Story of a Congo Victim</title>
-<meta name="generator" content="tei2html.xsl, see https://github.com/jhellingman/tei2html">
-<meta name="author" content="A Congo Resident">
-<link rel="coverpage" href="images/front.jpg">
-<link rel="schema.DC" href="http://dublincore.org/documents/1998/09/dces/">
-<meta name="DC.Creator" content="A Congo Resident">
-<meta name="DC.Title" content="Bokwala: The Story of a Congo Victim">
-<meta name="DC.Language" content="en">
-<meta name="DC.Format" content="text/html">
-<meta name="DC.Publisher" content="Project Gutenberg">
-<style type="text/css"> /* <![CDATA[ */
-html {
-line-height: 1.3;
-}
-body {
-margin: 0;
-}
-main {
-display: block;
-}
-h1 {
-font-size: 2em;
-margin: 0.67em 0;
-}
-hr {
-height: 0;
-overflow: visible;
-}
-pre {
-font-family: monospace, monospace;
-font-size: 1em;
-}
-a {
-background-color: transparent;
-}
-abbr[title] {
-border-bottom: none;
-text-decoration: underline;
-text-decoration: underline dotted;
-}
-b, strong {
-font-weight: bolder;
-}
-code, kbd, samp {
-font-family: monospace, monospace;
-font-size: 1em;
-}
-small {
-font-size: 80%;
-}
-sub, sup {
-font-size: 67%;
-line-height: 0;
-position: relative;
-vertical-align: baseline;
-}
-sub {
-bottom: -0.25em;
-}
-sup {
-top: -0.5em;
-}
-img {
-border-style: none;
-}
-body {
-font-family: serif;
-font-size: 100%;
-text-align: left;
-margin-top: 2.4em;
-}
-div.front, div.body {
-margin-bottom: 7.2em;
-}
-div.back {
-margin-bottom: 2.4em;
-}
-.div0 {
-margin-top: 7.2em;
-margin-bottom: 7.2em;
-}
-.div1 {
-margin-top: 5.6em;
-margin-bottom: 5.6em;
-}
-.div2 {
-margin-top: 4.8em;
-margin-bottom: 4.8em;
-}
-.div3 {
-margin-top: 3.6em;
-margin-bottom: 3.6em;
-}
-.div4 {
-margin-top: 2.4em;
-margin-bottom: 2.4em;
-}
-.div5, .div6, .div7 {
-margin-top: 1.44em;
-margin-bottom: 1.44em;
-}
-.div0:last-child, .div1:last-child, .div2:last-child, .div3:last-child,
-.div4:last-child, .div5:last-child, .div6:last-child, .div7:last-child {
-margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-blockquote div.front, blockquote div.body, blockquote div.back {
-margin-top: 0;
-margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-.divBody .div1:first-child, .divBody .div2:first-child, .divBody .div3:first-child, .divBody .div4:first-child,
-.divBody .div5:first-child, .divBody .div6:first-child, .divBody .div7:first-child {
-margin-top: 0;
-}
-h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6, .h1, .h2, .h3, .h4, .h5, .h6 {
-clear: both;
-font-style: normal;
-text-transform: none;
-}
-h3, .h3 {
-font-size: 1.2em;
-}
-h3.label {
-font-size: 1em;
-margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-h4, .h4 {
-font-size: 1em;
-}
-.alignleft {
-text-align: left;
-}
-.alignright {
-text-align: right;
-}
-.alignblock {
-text-align: justify;
-}
-p.tb, hr.tb, .par.tb {
-margin: 1.6em auto;
-text-align: center;
-}
-p.argument, p.note, p.tocArgument, .par.argument, .par.note, .par.tocArgument {
-font-size: 0.9em;
-text-indent: 0;
-}
-p.argument, p.tocArgument, .par.argument, .par.tocArgument {
-margin: 1.58em 10%;
-}
-td.tocDivNum {
-vertical-align: top;
-}
-td.tocPageNum {
-vertical-align: bottom;
-}
-.opener, .address {
-margin-top: 1.6em;
-margin-bottom: 1.6em;
-}
-.addrline {
-margin-top: 0;
-margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-.dateline {
-margin-top: 1.6em;
-margin-bottom: 1.6em;
-text-align: right;
-}
-.salute {
-margin-top: 1.6em;
-margin-left: 3.58em;
-text-indent: -2em;
-}
-.signed {
-margin-top: 1.6em;
-margin-left: 3.58em;
-text-indent: -2em;
-}
-.epigraph {
-font-size: 0.9em;
-width: 60%;
-margin-left: auto;
-}
-.epigraph span.bibl {
-display: block;
-text-align: right;
-}
-.trailer {
-clear: both;
-margin-top: 3.6em;
-}
-span.abbr, abbr {
-white-space: nowrap;
-}
-span.parnum {
-font-weight: bold;
-}
-span.corr, span.gap {
-border-bottom: 1px dotted red;
-}
-span.num, span.trans, span.trans {
-border-bottom: 1px dotted gray;
-}
-span.measure {
-border-bottom: 1px dotted green;
-}
-.ex {
-letter-spacing: 0.2em;
-}
-.sc {
-font-variant: small-caps;
-}
-.asc {
-font-variant: small-caps;
-text-transform: lowercase;
-}
-.uc {
-text-transform: uppercase;
-}
-.tt {
-font-family: monospace;
-}
-.underline {
-text-decoration: underline;
-}
-.overline, .overtilde {
-text-decoration: overline;
-}
-.rm {
-font-style: normal;
-}
-.red {
-color: red;
-}
-hr {
-clear: both;
-border: none;
-border-bottom: 1px solid black;
-width: 45%;
-margin-left: auto;
-margin-right: auto;
-margin-top: 1em;
-text-align: center;
-}
-hr.dotted {
-border-bottom: 2px dotted black;
-}
-hr.dashed {
-border-bottom: 2px dashed black;
-}
-.aligncenter {
-text-align: center;
-}
-h1, h2, .h1, .h2 {
-font-size: 1.44em;
-line-height: 1.5;
-}
-h1.label, h2.label {
-font-size: 1.2em;
-margin-bottom: 0;
-}
-h5, h6 {
-font-size: 1em;
-font-style: italic;
-}
-p, .par {
-text-indent: 0;
-}
-p.firstlinecaps:first-line, .par.firstlinecaps:first-line {
-text-transform: uppercase;
-}
-.hangq {
-text-indent: -0.32em;
-}
-.hangqq {
-text-indent: -0.42em;
-}
-.hangqqq {
-text-indent: -0.84em;
-}
-p.dropcap:first-letter, .par.dropcap:first-letter {
-float: left;
-clear: left;
-margin: 0 0.05em 0 0;
-padding: 0;
-line-height: 0.8;
-font-size: 420%;
-vertical-align: super;
-}
-blockquote, p.quote, div.blockquote, div.argument, .par.quote {
-font-size: 0.9em;
-margin: 1.58em 5%;
-}
-.pageNum a, a.noteRef:hover, a.pseudoNoteRef:hover, a.hidden:hover, a.hidden {
-text-decoration: none;
-}
-.advertisement, .advertisements {
-background-color: #FFFEE0;
-border: black 1px dotted;
-color: #000;
-margin: 2em 5%;
-padding: 1em;
-}
-.footnotes .body, .footnotes .div1 {
-padding: 0;
-}
-.fnarrow {
-color: #AAAAAA;
-font-weight: bold;
-text-decoration: none;
-}
-.fnarrow:hover, .fnreturn:hover {
-color: #660000;
-}
-.fnreturn {
-color: #AAAAAA;
-font-size: 80%;
-font-weight: bold;
-text-decoration: none;
-vertical-align: 0.25em;
-}
-a {
-text-decoration: none;
-}
-a:hover {
-text-decoration: underline;
-background-color: #e9f5ff;
-}
-a.noteRef, a.pseudoNoteRef {
-font-size: 67%;
-line-height: 0;
-position: relative;
-vertical-align: baseline;
-top: -0.5em;
-text-decoration: none;
-margin-left: 0.1em;
-}
-.displayfootnote {
-display: none;
-}
-div.footnotes {
-font-size: 80%;
-margin-top: 1em;
-padding: 0;
-}
-hr.fnsep {
-margin-left: 0;
-margin-right: 0;
-text-align: left;
-width: 25%;
-}
-p.footnote, .par.footnote {
-margin-bottom: 0.5em;
-margin-top: 0.5em;
-}
-p.footnote .fnlabel, .par.footnote .fnlabel {
-float: left;
-margin-left: -0.1em;
-margin-top: 0.9em;
-min-width: 1.0em;
-padding-right: 0.4em;
-}
-.apparatusnote {
-text-decoration: none;
-}
-.apparatusnote:target, .fndiv:target {
-background-color: #eaf3ff;
-}
-table.tocList {
-width: 100%;
-margin-left: auto;
-margin-right: auto;
-border-width: 0;
-border-collapse: collapse;
-}
-td.tocPageNum, td.tocDivNum {
-text-align: right;
-min-width: 10%;
-border-width: 0;
-white-space: nowrap;
-}
-td.tocDivNum {
-padding-left: 0;
-padding-right: 0.5em;
-}
-td.tocPageNum {
-padding-left: 0.5em;
-padding-right: 0;
-}
-td.tocDivTitle {
-width: auto;
-}
-p.tocPart, .par.tocPart {
-margin: 1.58em 0;
-font-variant: small-caps;
-}
-p.tocChapter, .par.tocChapter {
-margin: 1.58em 0;
-}
-p.tocSection, .par.tocSection {
-margin: 0.7em 5%;
-}
-table.tocList td {
-vertical-align: top;
-}
-table.tocList td.tocPageNum {
-vertical-align: bottom;
-}
-table.inner {
-display: inline-table;
-border-collapse: collapse;
-width: 100%;
-}
-td.itemNum {
-text-align: right;
-min-width: 5%;
-padding-right: 0.8em;
-}
-td.innerContainer {
-padding: 0;
-margin: 0;
-}
-.index {
-font-size: 80%;
-}
-.index p {
-text-indent: -1em;
-margin-left: 1em;
-}
-.indexToc {
-text-align: center;
-}
-.transcriberNote {
-background-color: #DDE;
-border: black 1px dotted;
-color: #000;
-font-family: sans-serif;
-font-size: 80%;
-margin: 2em 5%;
-padding: 1em;
-}
-.missingTarget {
-text-decoration: line-through;
-color: red;
-}
-.correctionTable {
-width: 75%;
-}
-.width20 {
-width: 20%;
-}
-.width40 {
-width: 40%;
-}
-p.smallprint, li.smallprint, .par.smallprint {
-color: #666666;
-font-size: 80%;
-}
-span.musictime {
-vertical-align: middle;
-display: inline-block;
-text-align: center;
-}
-span.musictime, span.musictime span.top, span.musictime span.bottom {
-padding: 1px 0.5px;
-font-size: xx-small;
-font-weight: bold;
-line-height: 0.7em;
-}
-span.musictime span.bottom {
-display: block;
-}
-ul {
-list-style-type: none;
-}
-.splitListTable {
-margin-left: 0;
-}
-.splitListTable td {
-vertical-align: top;
-}
-.numberedItem {
-text-indent: -3em;
-margin-left: 3em;
-}
-.numberedItem .itemNumber {
-float: left;
-position: relative;
-left: -3.5em;
-width: 3em;
-display: inline-block;
-text-align: right;
-}
-.itemGroupTable {
-border-collapse: collapse;
-margin-left: 0;
-}
-.itemGroupTable td {
-padding: 0;
-margin: 0;
-vertical-align: middle;
-}
-.itemGroupBrace {
-padding: 0 0.5em !important;
-}
-.titlePage {
-border: #DDDDDD 2px solid;
-margin: 3em 0 7em 0;
-padding: 5em 10% 6em 10%;
-text-align: center;
-}
-.titlePage .docTitle {
-line-height: 1.7;
-margin: 2em 0 2em 0;
-font-weight: bold;
-}
-.titlePage .docTitle .mainTitle {
-font-size: 1.8em;
-}
-.titlePage .docTitle .subTitle, .titlePage .docTitle .seriesTitle,
-.titlePage .docTitle .volumeTitle {
-font-size: 1.44em;
-}
-.titlePage .byline {
-margin: 2em 0 2em 0;
-font-size: 1.2em;
-line-height: 1.5;
-}
-.titlePage .byline .docAuthor {
-font-size: 1.2em;
-font-weight: bold;
-}
-.titlePage .figure {
-margin: 2em auto;
-}
-.titlePage .docImprint {
-margin: 4em 0 0 0;
-font-size: 1.2em;
-line-height: 1.5;
-}
-.titlePage .docImprint .docDate {
-font-size: 1.2em;
-font-weight: bold;
-}
-div.figure {
-text-align: center;
-}
-.figure {
-margin-left: auto;
-margin-right: auto;
-}
-.floatLeft {
-float: left;
-margin: 10px 10px 10px 0;
-}
-.floatRight {
-float: right;
-margin: 10px 0 10px 10px;
-}
-p.figureHead, .par.figureHead {
-font-size: 100%;
-text-align: center;
-}
-.figAnnotation {
-font-size: 80%;
-position: relative;
-margin: 0 auto;
-}
-.figTopLeft, .figBottomLeft {
-float: left;
-}
-.figTopRight, .figBottomRight {
-float: right;
-}
-.figure p, .figure .par {
-font-size: 80%;
-margin-top: 0;
-text-align: center;
-}
-img {
-border-width: 0;
-}
-td.galleryFigure {
-text-align: center;
-vertical-align: middle;
-}
-td.galleryCaption {
-text-align: center;
-vertical-align: top;
-}
-body {
-padding: 1.58em 16%;
-}
-.pageNum {
-display: inline;
-font-size: 8.4pt;
-font-style: normal;
-margin: 0;
-padding: 0;
-position: absolute;
-right: 1%;
-text-align: right;
-letter-spacing: normal;
-}
-.marginnote {
-font-size: 0.8em;
-height: 0;
-left: 1%;
-position: absolute;
-text-indent: 0;
-width: 14%;
-text-align: left;
-}
-.right-marginnote {
-font-size: 0.8em;
-height: 0;
-right: 3%;
-position: absolute;
-text-indent: 0;
-text-align: right;
-width: 11%
-}
-.cut-in-left-note {
-font-size: 0.8em;
-left: 1%;
-float: left;
-text-indent: 0;
-width: 14%;
-text-align: left;
-padding: 0.8em 0.8em 0.8em 0;
-}
-.cut-in-right-note {
-font-size: 0.8em;
-left: 1%;
-float: right;
-text-indent: 0;
-width: 14%;
-text-align: right;
-padding: 0.8em 0 0.8em 0.8em;
-}
-span.tocPageNum, span.flushright {
-position: absolute;
-right: 16%;
-top: auto;
-text-indent: 0;
-}
-.pglink::after {
-content: "\0000A0\01F4D8";
-font-size: 80%;
-font-style: normal;
-font-weight: normal;
-}
-.catlink::after {
-content: "\0000A0\01F4C7";
-font-size: 80%;
-font-style: normal;
-font-weight: normal;
-}
-.exlink::after, .wplink::after, .biblink::after, .qurlink::after, .seclink::after {
-content: "\0000A0\002197\00FE0F";
-color: blue;
-font-size: 80%;
-font-style: normal;
-font-weight: normal;
-}
-.pglink:hover {
-background-color: #DCFFDC;
-}
-.catlink:hover {
-background-color: #FFFFDC;
-}
-.exlink:hover, .wplink:hover, .biblink:hover, .qurlink:hover, .seclin:hover {
-background-color: #FFDCDC;
-}
-body {
-background: #FFFFFF;
-font-family: serif;
-}
-body, a.hidden {
-color: black;
-}
-h1, h2, .h1, .h2 {
-text-align: center;
-font-variant: small-caps;
-font-weight: normal;
-}
-p.byline {
-text-align: center;
-font-style: italic;
-margin-bottom: 2em;
-}
-.div2 p.byline, .div3 p.byline, .div4 p.byline, .div5 p.byline, .div6 p.byline, .div7 p.byline {
-text-align: left;
-}
-.figureHead, .noteRef, .pseudoNoteRef, .marginnote, .right-marginnote, p.legend, .verseNum {
-color: #660000;
-}
-.rightnote, .pageNum, .lineNum, .pageNum a {
-color: #AAAAAA;
-}
-a.hidden:hover, a.noteRef:hover, a.pseudoNoteRef:hover {
-color: red;
-}
-h1, h2, h3, h4, h5, h6 {
-font-weight: normal;
-}
-table {
-margin-left: auto;
-margin-right: auto;
-}
-.tablecaption {
-text-align: center;
-}
-.arab { font-family: Scheherazade, serif; }
-.aran { font-family: 'Awami Nastaliq', serif; }
-.grek { font-family: 'Charis SIL', serif; }
-.hebr { font-family: Shlomo, 'Ezra SIL', serif; }
-.syrc { font-family: 'Serto Jerusalem', serif; }
-/* CSS rules generated from rendition elements in TEI file */
-.adTitle {
-font-size: xx-large;
-font-weight: bold;
-text-align: center;
-}
-.adSubtitle {
-font-size: large;
-font-weight: bold;
-text-align: center;
-}
-.adAuthor {
-text-align: center;
-}
-.adImprint {
-margin-left: 2em;
-text-indent: -2em;
-}
-.adAuthorCredits {
-font-size: small;
-text-align: center;
-}
-.adFooter {
-text-align: center;
-}
-/* CSS rules generated from @rend attributes in TEI file */
-.cover-imagewidth {
-width:483px;
-}
-.xd31e112 {
-text-align:center; font-size:large;
-}
-.frontispiecewidth {
-width:458px;
-}
-.titlepage-imagewidth {
-width:451px;
-}
-.xd31e187 {
-text-align:right;
-}
-.xd31e220 {
-font-size:x-small;
-}
-.xd31e1317 {
-text-align:center;
-}
-.xd31e1322 {
-text-align:center; font-size:small;
-}
-@media handheld {
-}
-/* ]]> */ </style>
-</head>
-<body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bokwala, by A Congo Resident</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Bokwala</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em;'>The Story of a Congo Victim</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Authors: A Congo Resident</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em;'>H. Grattan Guinness</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 10, 2022 [eBook #67371]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
-  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Jeroen Hellingman and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOKWALA ***</div>
-<div class="front">
-<div class="div1 cover"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first"></p>
-<div class="figure cover-imagewidth"><img src="images/front.jpg" alt="Original Front Cover." width="483" height="720"></div><p>
-</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="div1 frenchtitle"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first xd31e112">BOKWALA
-</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="div1 frontispiece"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first"></p>
-<div class="figure frontispiecewidth"><img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" alt="“DOWN IT CAME ON ME, LASH AFTER LASH.”" width="458" height="720"><p class="figureHead">“DOWN IT CAME ON ME, LASH AFTER LASH.”</p>
-<p class="first"><i>See page 58.</i></p>
-</div><p>
-</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="div1 titlepage"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first"></p>
-<div class="figure titlepage-imagewidth"><img src="images/titlepage.png" alt="Original Title Page." width="451" height="720"></div><p>
-</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="titlePage">
-<div class="docTitle">
-<div class="mainTitle">BOKWALA</div>
-<div class="subTitle">THE STORY OF A CONGO VICTIM</div>
-</div>
-<div class="byline">BY<br>
-<span class="docAuthor">A CONGO RESIDENT</span>
-<br>
-WITH A PREFACE BY<br>
-<span class="docAuthor">H. GRATTAN GUINNESS, M.D.</span></div>
-<div class="docImprint">LONDON<br>
-THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY<br>
-4 BOUVERIE ST. &amp; 65 ST. PAUL’S CHURCHYARD, E.C.<br>
-<span class="docDate">1910</span></div>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pageNum" id="pb5">[<a href="#pb5">5</a>]</span></p>
-<div id="preface" class="div1 preface"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e224">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="main">PREFACE</h2>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">Having personally visited the Upper Congo in the days preceding the establishment
-of the notorious rubber <i>régime</i>, and being intimately acquainted with the conditions of native life which then obtained,
-I have watched with profoundest pity and indignation the development of Congo slavery.
-Old-time conditions of savage barbarity were awful, but it has been reserved for so-called
-“Christian Civilisation” to introduce the system of atrocious oppression and hopeless
-despair under which, during the last fifteen years, millions of helpless natives have
-perished directly or indirectly, for whose protection Great Britain and the United
-States of America have special responsibility before God and men.
-</p>
-<p>It is particularly appropriate that in this moment of Congo crisis these pages should
-render articulate the voice of a Congo victim. Bokwala tells his own story, thanks
-to the clever and sympathetic interpretation of a gifted and experienced resident
-on the Congo. <span class="pageNum" id="pb6">[<a href="#pb6">6</a>]</span>And a touching story it is, told with admirable directness and simplicity, truthfulness
-and restraint.
-</p>
-<p>I heartily commend the book to all who are interested in the greatest humanitarian
-issue which has appealed to us during the last thirty years, and to those also who
-as yet know little or nothing of the Congo Iniquity.
-</p>
-<p class="signed">H. GRATTAN GUINNESS, M.D.
-</p>
-<p class="signed"><i>Acting-Director of <br>The Regions Beyond Missionary Union.</i>
-</p>
-<p class="dateline"><span class="sc">Harley House, Bow, London, E.</span>
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb7">[<a href="#pb7">7</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="div1 epigraph"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">O Lord, how long shall I cry, and Thou wilt not hear! even cry unto Thee out of violence,
-and Thou wilt not save!
-</p>
-<p>Why dost Thou shew me iniquity, and cause me to behold grievance? for spoiling and
-violence are before me: and there are that raise up strife and contention.
-</p>
-<p>Therefore the law is slacked, and judgment doth never go forth: for the wicked doth
-compass about the righteous, therefore wrong judgment proceedeth.
-</p>
-<hr class="tb"><p>
-</p>
-<p>Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity: wherefore
-lookest Thou on them that deal treacherously, and holdest Thy tongue when the wicked
-devoureth the man that is more righteous than he?
-</p>
-<p class="xd31e187"><a class="biblink xd31e44" title="Reference to the Bible: Habakkuk 1:2-4" href="https://classic.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hab%201:2-4&amp;version=NRSV"><span class="sc">Habakkuk</span> i. 2, 3, 4</a>, <a class="biblink xd31e44" title="Reference to the Bible: Habakkuk 1:13" href="https://classic.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Hab%201:13&amp;version=NRSV">13</a>.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb9">[<a href="#pb9">9</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="foreword" class="div1 foreword"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e231">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="main">FOREWORD</h2>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">This story of Bokwala, a Congo victim, has been written in the belief that it will
-help the friends of the Congo native to see something of how Congo affairs appear
-when looked at from the standpoint of those whom they most nearly concern in their
-actual working, <i>i.e.</i>, the Congo natives themselves.
-</p>
-<p>Bokwala’s story is the truth, and nothing but the truth. The whole truth, however,
-is written only in tears and blood wrung from the unfortunate people who are subjects
-of such treatment as is described in this book. Even if it were written with pen and
-ink, it could not be printed or circulated generally. No extreme case has been chosen,
-the story told has none of the very worst elements of Congo life in it; it is the
-life which has been lived by hundreds and thousands of Congo natives, and in great
-measure is being lived by them to-day.
-</p>
-<p>Now in July, 1909, while these words are being written, wrongs are taking place; men
-and women are being imprisoned for shortage in food <span class="pageNum" id="pb10">[<a href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>taxes; messengers of white men are threatening, abusing, and striking innocent villagers;
-and constant demands are being made upon the people who find it impossible to supply
-such except at great expense to themselves, which they do not hesitate to incur rather
-than be tied up and go to prison.
-</p>
-<p>Changes there have been in the name and <i>personnel</i> of the administration: but no change in the system. We who live here and see what
-takes place pray that you at home may stand firm and not for one moment think that
-the battle is won. It is not won yet; and will not be until we see the changes actually
-worked out by reformers here on the Congo as surely as you see the proposals and promises
-of them on paper in Europe.
-</p>
-<p>If what is here recorded helps to bring about that happy state of things one day sooner
-than it would otherwise come, surely readers and writer will unite in praise to Him
-who alone is able to bring it to pass.
-</p>
-<p class="signed">A CONGO RESIDENT.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb11">[<a href="#pb11">11</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="toc" class="div1 contents"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="main">CONTENTS</h2>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first"> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum xd31e220">PAGE</span>
-</p>
-<p><a href="#preface" id="xd31e224">PREFACE BY DR.&nbsp;H. GRATTAN GUINNESS</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">5</span>
-</p>
-<p><a href="#foreword" id="xd31e231">FOREWORD</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">9</span>
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER I
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch1" id="xd31e239">HOW WE ONCE LIVED</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">15</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">My early days—Life at home—How we fared—Work and play—Our one fear, the cannibals—Iseankótó’s
-warning—We despise it—We are captured by cannibals—The journey—A horrible meal—The
-cannibal village reached.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER II
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch2" id="xd31e249">I AM A CANNIBAL’S SLAVE</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">26</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">In the cannibal village—Before the council—Our fate—Desire to please my master—How
-I succeeded—Our fears and their justification—A sad company—Siene’s murder—The boy
-who lied—The ordeal by poison—Village strife—The human peace-offering—The haunting
-dread—Rumours of the white men—A fright—Makweke’s peril—How he escaped—We plan flight—The
-start—The chase—A near thing—The river reached—Over, and at home again.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER III
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch3" id="xd31e260">THE COMING OF BOKAKALA</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">46</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">At home again—I choose a wife—How I went courting—And was married—My visits to the
-white men—They <span class="pageNum" id="pb12">[<a href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>talk of “one Jesus”—The other white man, Bokakala—He wants rubber—We are eager to
-get it—How rubber was collected—The rubber market—“<i>We did not know.</i>”
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER IV
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch4" id="xd31e274">THE BEGINNING OF SORROWS</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">55</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">The coming of more white men—A change in our treatment—Things go from bad to worse—I
-get tired of collecting rubber—And stay at home—The white man’s anger and threats—I
-go to a palaver—My rubber is short—I am whipped—The white man’s new plan—Forest guards—Their
-oppression and greed—We report them to the white man—Results—But the worst not yet.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER V
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch5" id="xd31e284">OPPRESSION, SHAME, AND TORTURE</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">62</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">My new slavery—How our villagers fared at home—The white man’s meat—How it was got—The
-white men of God and their pity—How the women were enslaved—Feeding the idle—Endeavours
-to evade oppression—Results—How would you like our conditions?—Forest work—Its hardships—The
-day of reckoning—Back to the village and home—An ominous silence—A sad discovery—Redeeming
-our wives—An offending villager—A poor victim—A ghastly punishment—The woman’s death—Another
-village—The monkey hunters—The old man who stayed at home—How he was tortured—No redress.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER VI
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch6" id="xd31e294">SOME HORRORS OF OUR LOT</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">74</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">Our work grows harder—I consult the white man of God—A strange contrast—My plea unavailing—My
-rubber short—I am sent to the prison—The captives—Their <span class="pageNum" id="pb13">[<a href="#pb13">13</a>]</span>work and their punishments—The sick—The new-born babe—The dead and their burial—The
-suspected—How they were tortured—The steamer—The rubber chief—The prison opened—A
-procession of spectres—The place of the dead—For a time peace—Work for the man of
-God—How we fared—My reward—I wish to go home.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER VII
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch7" id="xd31e307">BACK TO SLAVERY</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">88</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">My welcome at home—My respite and its end—The forest sentry—The little boy—My father’s
-appeal and its result—I intervene—The sentry’s revenge—A rubber slave once more—I
-appeal to the man of God—Disappointment—“Nothing but rubber till I die!”—The hopeless
-toil—The coming of the pestilence—The witch-doctor’s medicine—The desolation—But still
-the rubber!
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER VIII
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch8" id="xd31e317">OTHER CHANGES. HOPE DEFERRED</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">98</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">A change of labour—We become hunters—A new demand—And new difficulties—Failure—The
-sentry’s demand—The old men’s plea—Murder—We tell the men of God—And complain to the
-rubber man—The white chief—The things written in a book—And no remedy comes—Hunting
-again—The English visitor—The white woman—Results of making complaints—The sentries’
-threats—The one way of escape—“Better to be with the hunters than the hunted”—Another
-sorrow—The sleeping-sickness—“Just a little while, and they die”—We cry to the white
-people.
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER IX
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch9" id="xd31e327">THE ELDERS OF EUROPE</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">112</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">More white men from Europe—Fears and curiosity—The white men inquire about us—We tell
-them of our <span class="pageNum" id="pb14">[<a href="#pb14">14</a>]</span>state—And our oppressors—The knotted strings and their story—“These things are bad”—The
-white man’s promises—Better times—Soon ended—Rubber again—The old toil—The men of
-the river—The demands on the villages—The chiefs in power—Chiefs and the sentries—The
-death wail and the white man—“We are very poor.”
-</p>
-<p>CHAPTER X
-</p>
-<p><a href="#ch10" id="xd31e339">THINGS WE WANT TO KNOW</a> &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; <span class="tocPageNum">121</span>
-</p>
-<p class="tocArgument">My story is finished—The past and the present—Why are these things so?—The old days—Now
-we are white men’s slaves—How long will it last?—We are dying—Our only rest is death—How
-long, how long?
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb15">[<a href="#pb15">15</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="body">
-<div id="ch1" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e239">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="super">BOKWALA</h2>
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER I</h2>
-<h2 class="main">How We Once Lived</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">My early days—Life at home—How we fared—Work and play—Our one fear, the cannibals—Iseankótó’s
-warning—We despise it—We are captured by cannibals—The journey—A horrible meal—The
-cannibal village reached.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">I have heard that there are many white people in Europe, both men and women, who feel
-compassion for us black men, and who would, if they knew more about us, take pity
-on us and save us from our sorrows and trials. So I am going to tell the story of
-my life, that they may know and help us.
-</p>
-<p>Long, long ago I was born in the village of Ekaka, and having lived so long I have
-seen many things, and who is better able to tell them than I? We have great controversy
-with the <span class="pageNum" id="pb16">[<a href="#pb16">16</a>]</span>white people about our ages: they say I am about thirty years old, but of course I
-know better; and I say that I am about three thousand years old—which shows that white
-men do not know everything.
-</p>
-<p>My name is Bokwala, a slave. I do not know why my father and mother named me so; for
-I was a freeborn child. But afterwards I became a slave in truth, as I shall tell
-you, so then it suited me well.
-</p>
-<p>We lived all together very happily in my father’s compound. He was the chief of Ekaka,
-and had great authority; he had but to give an order, and at once the people would
-hurry to execute it. His own name was Mboyo, but he was always called Isek’okwala,
-after me, and in the same way my mother was called Yek’okwala. It is one of our customs
-to call the parents “father” or “mother” of Bokwala, or whatever the name of the child
-may be.
-</p>
-<p>My mother was my father’s favourite wife, but, being a chief, he had several others,
-and necessarily our compound was a large one.
-</p>
-<p>In the centre of one side of a large open space was the chief’s own house, and next
-to it the open house for talking palavers, feasting, &amp;c. Then there were the houses
-of the women, one <span class="pageNum" id="pb17">[<a href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>for each wife, where she lived with her own children, and other houses for slaves.
-As we boys grew older we built houses for ourselves in our father’s compound, and
-in time it grew to be almost like a small village.
-</p>
-<p>Those were good days, as far as we ourselves were concerned. We were free to do as
-we liked; if we quarrelled, we fought it out, and the strongest won; if we wanted
-meat or fish, we went to hunt in the forest, or to fish on the river, and soon had
-a plentiful supply; and in our gardens there was always as much vegetable food as
-we needed.
-</p>
-<p>Sometimes the women had quarrels amongst themselves, and then we had no peace for
-a time. They talked and talked, and scolded each other from morning till night, and
-almost from night till morning, and there was no sleep for any of us. Not even my
-father could put an end to these rows: for the time being the women were masters of
-the situation and of him. You see, the women provide us men with food, and if they
-are angry with a man they starve him, therefore what can he do? He justs waits, and
-by and by their anger is finished, and a time of peace ensues, and possibly a feast.
-</p>
-<p>I will tell you how we passed our days in the <span class="pageNum" id="pb18">[<a href="#pb18">18</a>]</span>time of my childhood. Every one rose with the sun, for our people do not think it
-good to sleep late, and it did not take long to eat our morning meal of manioca, and
-anything which had been kept over from the night before.
-</p>
-<p>Then we began to scatter, some of the women to the large manioca gardens at some distance
-in the forest, and others to fish in the river. Sometimes they went fishing for a
-day only, at other times for as long as a month. The length of time and the kind of
-fishing depends on the season, whether the water is high or low, and what sort of
-fish are plentiful. Some of the men and boys would go out to hunt with their nets
-and spears, others would be busy making nets, canoes, paddles, and cooking utensils,
-or doing smithy work, making spears, knives, or ornaments for the women. The chief
-and elders of the village would gather in the large shed and talk palavers, hear and
-tell news, smoke and chat all day long.
-</p>
-<p>We children would fish, go for picnics in the near forest, bathe in the river, play
-games, quarrel and fight and make it up again, and return to our play until we felt
-hungry, when we made our way homewards to seek our mothers.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb19">[<a href="#pb19">19</a>]</span></p>
-<p>Towards evening, when the sun was slipping down, the men would come in from the hunt,
-and the women from the gardens, from woodcutting in the forest, and water-drawing
-at the springs, and then the cooking would begin. All round us were women chatting,
-and little girls running errands and helping them in various ways.
-</p>
-<p>Some of the women would be making <i lang="bnt">tökö</i> (native bread) from the steeped manioca they had just brought from the river, and
-they were busy with pestle and mortar, pots and calabashes. Others were making <i lang="bnt">banganju</i>, a kind of pottage made of manioca leaves, palm nuts, and red peppers, and yet others
-preparing <i lang="bnt">bosaka</i>, or palm-oil chop.
-</p>
-<p>The animals killed in the hunt were first taken to my father to be divided by him,
-and soon the portions were given round to the women to be cooked, while we youngsters
-sat about waiting, talked and feasted on the appetising smells emitted from the various
-boiling pots.
-</p>
-<p>My mother sat and talked with my father; she did no cooking, as she was the favourite
-wife, and the others cooked for her. In the fruit season we might add our quota to
-the feast in the form of rubber and other fruits, or <span class="pageNum" id="pb20">[<a href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>even caterpillars or palmerworms, and these were greatly enjoyed by all.
-</p>
-<p>When the food was ready the women brought it in hand-baskets to my father, who first
-helped himself to his share, and passed some to any visitors who might be with him,
-then he gave the rest to his wives, and each in turn divided it amongst her own children.
-The slaves were treated much the same as children when food was served out, they received
-their share.
-</p>
-<p>We had no plates or spoons then, as some of our people who work for the white men
-now have, leaves served for plates, and twisted into a scoop did equally well for
-spoons. The chief possessed his own carved ivory spoon, worked from a solid elephant’s
-tusk, but that was taboo for any but himself. Nowadays we may not work ivory for ourselves,
-we have to take it to the white men.
-</p>
-<p>As soon as we had all finished eating, and drinking spring water, some of us carefully
-gathered up all the leaves which we had used, and the peelings and cuttings of the
-food, and threw them away in the forest, lest some evil-disposed person should get
-hold of them and by means of them bewitch us. We are all very much afraid of witchcraft,
-unless we ourselves <span class="pageNum" id="pb21">[<a href="#pb21">21</a>]</span>practise it; then, of course, it is for others to fear us.
-</p>
-<p>The meal finished and cleared away, and the leavings tied up to the roof to be served
-again to-morrow morning, we all gathered round the fires and the old men told stories
-of their prowess in hunting or in war, or retold to us young ones some of the legends
-and fables of our ancestors of long ago. Sometimes, on rare occasions, my father would
-sing to us the legend of Lianza, the ancient warrior and hero of our race. This story
-takes a long time to tell, and at frequent intervals the whole company would join
-in singing the choruses, with clapping of hands and great excitement.
-</p>
-<p>This lasted far into the night. And sometimes when the moon shone brightly we would
-sing and dance and play games, which we enjoyed greatly at the time, although they
-were not good games, and we generally had to suffer for them afterwards. On the following
-morning many of us were sick, our heads ached, and we were fit for nothing.
-</p>
-<p>We do not play these games so much now as we used to.
-</p>
-<p>There was just one thing we were always afraid of in those days, and that was an attack
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb22">[<a href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>from our enemies who lived on the other side of the river. They were very bad people,
-so wicked that they even eat men whom they have killed in battle, or slaves whom they
-have taken prisoners or bought for the purpose. They were at that time much stronger
-than we were, and when they attacked us we always got the worst of it. So we dreaded
-them very much, more even than the wild animals of the forest.
-</p>
-<p>On a certain evening we were sitting talking after having finished our evening meal,
-and we began to make plans for a fishing expedition to the marsh near the river, and
-finally decided to start on the next day.
-</p>
-<p>We slept that night at home, and were awake betimes in the morning ready for an early
-start.
-</p>
-<p>There was a very old man in our village named Iseankótó, or the Father of Discernment.
-He had been a strong man and possessed great fame; but that was in the past, and now
-we did not pay much heed to his sayings. He called us together as soon as we were
-awake, and told us of a very vivid dream he had had during the night.
-</p>
-<p>It was this. We went to fish just as we had planned, but while we were there the cannibals
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb23">[<a href="#pb23">23</a>]</span>came, attacked and overpowered us, and we were all either killed or taken prisoners.
-He besought us to lay aside our plans and stay at home that day, as he was certain
-that the dream was a warning to be disregarded at our peril.
-</p>
-<p>We were self-willed, however, and would not listen to advice, but rather ridiculed
-the warnings of old Iseankótó.
-</p>
-<p>“It is only a dream,” we said; “who cares for dreams?” and snatching a few mouthfuls
-of food we set off merrily, making fun of the old man as we went. What fools we were!
-And how we blamed ourselves and each other afterwards!
-</p>
-<p>Down the hill we went towards the river, singing, shouting, and skipping along, heedless
-of the danger into which we were running. Having reached the bottom of the hill, we
-made our way along the forest path which skirts the river bank, and ere long came
-to the place we had decided on visiting.
-</p>
-<p>Very soon we scattered and commenced work, and were just rejoicing to find that the
-fish were plentiful and we were likely to have a good lot to take home with us at
-night, when we were suddenly startled by a rustling in the bush close to us.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb24">[<a href="#pb24">24</a>]</span></p>
-<p>Before we had time to realise what had happened, we were surrounded by numbers of
-fierce cannibal warriors who had been in hiding, waiting for a chance to pounce upon
-some defenceless party of a weaker tribe.
-</p>
-<p>We tried to fight them, but being almost without arms, we had no chance against these
-men who had come prepared for battle, and we were completely at their mercy. One or
-two slaves who went with us were killed, but the women and we boys and girls were
-tied together with strong creepers and taken prisoners.
-</p>
-<p>Our captors gathered up the corpses of the men they had killed, and compelled some
-of our number to carry them, and then we were ordered to march off with them. We kept
-a sharp look out for any opportunity to escape, but this was impossible as we were
-too well watched. We were taken across the river and away into the forest, in the
-depth of which we encamped <span class="corr" id="xd31e430" title="Source: ust">just</span> before the sun went down.
-</p>
-<p>During all that night we lay awake, weeping for our homes and friends, and more for
-ourselves, watching our enemies prepare fires, cut up the corpses of our friends,
-cook, and afterwards eat them; for to those people we are but <i lang="bnt">nyáma</i> (meat); and all the time we feared even <span class="pageNum" id="pb25">[<a href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>to speak, lest we also should be deemed fit morsels for their evening meal.
-</p>
-<p>Early the next morning we were on the road again, and at last towards evening we arrived
-at Bosomo, the village of our captors, footsore and weary, and faint for want of food.
-</p>
-<p>Everything was strange to us. We could not even understand the language which we heard
-spoken, but we could guess that inquiries were being made as to the success of the
-expedition, and that we were being examined and scrutinised from head to foot as to
-our usefulness either as servants or as food.
-</p>
-<p>Some manioca was given to us by the women, and we were put all together in a large
-open shed, while some warriors acted as sentries lest we should escape. But there
-was no danger of that just then, we were far too tired, and in spite of our misery
-were soon fast asleep.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb26">[<a href="#pb26">26</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch2" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e249">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER II</h2>
-<h2 class="main">I am a Cannibal’s Slave</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">In the cannibal village—Before the council—Our fate—Desire to please my master—How
-I succeeded—Our fears and their justification—A sad company—Siene’s murder—The boy
-who lied—The ordeal by poison—Village strife—The human peace-offering—The haunting
-dread—Rumours of the white men—A fright—Makweke’s peril—How he escaped—We plan flight—The
-start—The chase—A near thing—The river reached—Over, and at home again.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">When we awoke it was to find the sun already shining, for after the fight and long
-walk, in addition to the much talking of the night before, our new masters were as
-weary as ourselves.
-</p>
-<p>It was not long, however, before the whole village was astir and the morning meal
-eaten. We were glad to eat the manioca which had been given us the previous night,
-because now that we had rested we felt the pangs of hunger. <span class="pageNum" id="pb27">[<a href="#pb27">27</a>]</span>Needless to say, we watched the people furtively to see what they did and what kind
-of mood they were in.
-</p>
-<p>We were surprised and amused to see that they washed their hands and faces in the
-dew which was on the plantain leaves, whilst they were also very particular about
-their teeth. We, of course, clean our teeth; but if one rubs his body occasionally
-with oil and camwood powder surely he has no need of water! It only spoils the effect.
-</p>
-<p>When they had finished their ablutions and taken their food the chief and elders of
-the town gathered together in council, and after a little while we were brought before
-them. There was much talk, which I could not understand, but as it was evident that
-they were deciding our fate we stood there in fear and trembling, not knowing but
-what some of us might be chosen to furnish another feast for them. Finally it was
-decided that we should be kept in slavery, and we were divided up between the different
-elders of the town, the chief keeping me and three others as his share of the spoil.
-And so my name, Bokwala (slave), became true of me and I entered on my life as a slave
-to the cannibals.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb28">[<a href="#pb28">28</a>]</span></p>
-<p>I felt so strange amongst all these people whose language I could not understand,
-and yet I found that I was expected to enter on my duties at once. Although I had
-great anger in my heart towards my captors, yet in one way I desired to please them,
-because by so doing I hoped to make sure of a better time for myself than I should
-have otherwise. So I set myself to find out what was meant even when I could not understand
-their words.
-</p>
-<p>When the sun began to slip down a little I noticed that the women commenced to get
-their fires ready for cooking the evening meal. The wife of my master pointed to me
-and then to her fire, and was evidently making some request of him which concerned
-me. He assented and turning to me said, “<i lang="bnt">Dua na epundu.</i>”
-</p>
-<p>I knew he was giving me an order, and immediately rose to obey; but what did he want?
-I went into the house and looked round and soon spied an axe. Of course, the woman
-wanted firewood, and in order to get that one needed an axe. So probably “<i lang="bnt">Dua na epundu</i>” meant “Bring the axe.” I picked it up and carried it to my master, who was apparently
-pleased, for he patted me on the head and said, “<i lang="bnt">Mwana mbai, mwana mbai</i>” (“My child”).
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb29">[<a href="#pb29">29</a>]</span></p>
-<p>Then, pointing with his lips to the forest, he said, “<i lang="bnt">Ke a lene desa</i>” (“Go and cut firewood”).
-</p>
-<p>I had expected that order, so was ready to set off at once, repeating over and over
-the few words I had learned, in turn with my own language, so that I should not forget
-them:—
-</p>
-<p>“<i lang="bnt">Dua na epundu, yela liswa</i>;” “<i lang="bnt">dua na epundu, yela liswa</i>,” I said over and over again, until I felt sure of the words. Then, while I was cutting
-the wood, “<i lang="bnt">Ke a lene desa, Nco yo tena nkui</i>;” “<i lang="bnt">Ke a lene desa, Nco yo tena nkui</i>;” and before long I found that I had enough wood to fill my basket, so I set off
-for the village, and was again rewarded by a pat on the head and the words, “<i lang="bnt">Mwana mbai, mwana mbai!</i>”
-</p>
-<p>While I was in the forest cutting wood the hunters had come back and brought some
-animals with them, so I found every one busy preparing meat for cooking. I, with the
-other children, sat down and watched, when suddenly one of the women turned to me
-and said, “<i lang="bnt">Dua na mune.</i>”
-</p>
-<p>I sprang up and rushed into the house, but what I had been sent for I could not think.
-I sat on the ground and wondered, and again I sent my eyes round the little hut. Ah!
-that <span class="pageNum" id="pb30">[<a href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>is it! oil, of course. They have plenty of meat, and are going to make palm-oil chop.
-I seized the calabash of oil from under the bed, and ran with it to the woman who
-had sent me, and was received with a chorus of “<i lang="bnt">Bia! bia!</i>” (“Just so”), and for the third time received the old chief’s pat on the head, and
-heard the words, “<i lang="bnt">Mwana mbai!</i>”
-</p>
-<p>I began to feel a little less strange, and to listen for other words, for I had already
-found that the way to please these people was to be bright and do my best. I found
-that they called <i lang="bnt">nyáma</i> (meat), <i lang="bnt">tito</i>; <i lang="bnt">bauta</i> (oil), <i lang="bnt">mune</i>; <i lang="bnt">ngoya</i> (mother), <i lang="bnt">ngwao</i>, and <i lang="bnt">fafa</i> (father), <i lang="bnt">sango</i>, and I was just trying to learn these words well so as to remember them afterwards,
-when the chief called to me, “Bokwala!”
-</p>
-<p>“<i lang="bnt">Em’óne</i>” (“I am here”), said I, in my own language, for I knew not how else to answer.
-</p>
-<p>“<i lang="bnt">Dua na yeka dia</i>,” said he, beckoning me to their group, who were gathered round to take their evening
-meal, which was just being served<span class="corr" id="xd31e551" title="Not in source">.</span> I drew near, and received my share of food, and so I learnt some more words, which
-meant, “Come and eat food.”
-</p>
-<p>I began to think that my master did not seem a bad sort of man after all, and that
-perhaps I <span class="pageNum" id="pb31">[<a href="#pb31">31</a>]</span>might get used to my life there; but then I could not help remembering the fight,
-and that only two nights before these people had been feasting off my people, and
-would do so again when they had an opportunity, and I went to sleep that night with
-my mind made up that if ever I could see the least chance to do so, I would escape,
-even if it had to be alone.
-</p>
-<p>Many days and nights passed in this way, we slaves having to do all kinds of work
-and being sent on errands continually, sometimes even being told to mind the little
-children when the mothers went to their gardens. Of course, we looked upon all this
-as oppression, and felt great shame, for we boys frequently had to do women’s work,
-and what can be more degrading than that? And I could never forget that I was the
-son of a chief!
-</p>
-<p>As we learnt more of their language, and began to understand what was said in our
-presence, we found that there was plenty of reason for fear as to our future, even
-though we had been kept alive for the present.
-</p>
-<p>When our people were spoken of it was as <i lang="bnt">tito</i> (meat), and fighting expeditions were looked upon as hunts. It was quite usual to
-ratify agreements between chiefs by the killing of a slave <span class="pageNum" id="pb32">[<a href="#pb32">32</a>]</span>and feasting on the body, and this was even done sometimes when a chief wanted to
-pay special honour to a visitor. And when we heard these things being discussed and
-plans being laid for them, we trembled with fear, and wondered how long we should
-be all there together.
-</p>
-<p>We had not much time to ourselves, for we were kept continually busy, and we dared
-not talk together very much, because some of the natives of the village could understand
-our words, but now and again, out in the forest or at night, we were able to tell
-each other how we were getting on, and to condole with one another over our misfortunes.
-</p>
-<p>Now my master discovered that I was good at climbing and at catching bats, so when
-the bat season came on he often sent me into the forest to search for some. One day
-I went out on such a quest and did not return until evening. I took the bats I had
-caught to the chief, and afterwards went off to the shed where my companions were
-sitting.
-</p>
-<p>They all seemed very quiet, and scarcely gave me a welcome, and this was unusual,
-especially when I brought meat in from the forest. I threw myself down amongst them,
-and looking round the group I missed Siene, a little <span class="pageNum" id="pb33">[<a href="#pb33">33</a>]</span>girl slave with whom I was on very good terms.
-</p>
-<p>“Where is Siene?” I asked of the others.
-</p>
-<p>“O Bokwala,” answered one, “do not ask, we do not want to tell you.”
-</p>
-<p>“But I want to know. Is she ill? Or has she escaped?” I inquired, thinking the latter
-hardly possible for a girl alone.
-</p>
-<p>“Bokwala,” said one, beckoning me to follow him, “come.”
-</p>
-<p>I followed him to an open space at the end of one of the huts, and pointing to the
-ground, he said to me, “Look there; that is all that is left of Siene.”
-</p>
-<p>I looked and started back. Could it be? Yes, it was only too true—that dark stain
-on the ground was blood. And little by little I heard the whole terrible story. The
-chief had visitors, and he determined on a feast in their honour, and as a dainty
-morsel was indispensable, he decided to kill and serve up the body of my little girl
-friend. It was on that very spot where we stood that the deed had been committed.
-And that dark stain was all that was left of my friend!
-</p>
-<p>That night I was drunk with anger, and so were the other boys. There was no one but
-us <span class="pageNum" id="pb34">[<a href="#pb34">34</a>]</span>boys and girls to weep for Siene, but we wept until we wept ourselves to sleep for
-sorrow; sorrow not only for her, but for ourselves as well; for we knew not how soon
-we might be treated in the same way.
-</p>
-<p>Time passed on, and we grew more and more accustomed to our surroundings, and as we
-boys proved useful to our masters, we had a certain amount of liberty, and went to
-fish and hunt frequently, but always for the benefit of our respective masters—nothing
-we caught was reckoned as our own property.
-</p>
-<p>And we were not always in favour. If anything was lost or stolen, we were accused
-of the deed; if we failed to obey or understand, we were beaten or punished in some
-other way; and if one of us was found to have lied, we had to pay the price, which
-was sometimes a heavy one.
-</p>
-<p>One boy who told his master a lie was found out, and the master with one slash of
-his knife cut the boy’s ear off, cooked it over the fire, and compelled the slave
-to eat it. That was a bad master, they were not all like that.
-</p>
-<p>One way of punishing us was by rubbing red peppers into our eyes, and another by cutting
-little slits in the skin over our shoulders and <span class="pageNum" id="pb35">[<a href="#pb35">35</a>]</span>backs where we could not reach, and rubbing pepper into the sores thus made. They
-hoped by this means not only to punish us, but to harden us, and make of us brave
-men who would not flinch at pain.
-</p>
-<p>In the case of accusations of stealing, the most popular way of settling the affair
-was by the poison ordeal. That was a very frequent occurrence in those days, and still
-is in parts where the white men do not visit often. It was like this. All the people
-gathered together, and the chief, witch-doctor, and headmen seated themselves to hear
-the trial. The persons concerned gave their evidence, and the accused was allowed
-to make his defence; but if he were a slave, of what use was it? Then the evidence
-would be summed up, and the decision given that the poison ordeal be administered.
-</p>
-<p>The bark was brought and scraped, then mixed with water, and the draught given to
-the prisoner. We always took it willingly, for we all believed that it revealed the
-truth, and therefore were obliged to stand or fall by it. After it was drunk in the
-presence of the people, all waited eagerly for the result. If the prisoner vomited,
-and was none the worse, of course he had been falsely accused; if, on the other hand,
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb36">[<a href="#pb36">36</a>]</span>he fell and died, there was proof positive of his guilt. What could any one want more
-decisive than that?
-</p>
-<p>Occasionally there were fights between different villages near to us, as well as the
-warlike expeditions to other tribes. When two villages had been fighting for a long
-time, and neither could win or was willing to give in, it was generally settled by
-a peace-offering. At such a time we slaves went in fear of our lives, for it was almost
-certain that a slave would be hanged as a peace-offering, and possibly his corpse
-would be eaten afterwards.
-</p>
-<p>With all these fears surrounding us, and never feeling sure of our lives for a single
-day—no matter how kind some of the people might be to us—you will not be surprised
-to hear that whenever we got together and could talk a little our conversation always
-turned to the subject of our escape from slavery. But so far as we could see there
-was no possibility of getting away.
-</p>
-<p>About this time we began to hear rumours of some strange people who had paid a visit
-to a village not far from my father’s place, Ekaka. They were said to be white—men
-like us but with white skins—and they came in a canoe <span class="pageNum" id="pb37">[<a href="#pb37">37</a>]</span>which went of itself, having no paddlers, but emitting smoke from the roof.
-</p>
-<p>At first we laughed and thought it was just a yarn, simply a made-up story; but the
-rumours became frequent, and we heard that some of the people had actually bought
-some land and settled down on it. We could not understand about them, so we concluded
-that they must be the children of Lianza, the great warrior hero of our race, who
-went down river ages ago and never returned. But these things did not trouble me,
-for what chance had I ever to get back to my father’s place, or see these people?
-</p>
-<p>One day we had a great fright. A neighbouring chief came with his slaves and children
-and the elders of his village to visit my master. There was the usual salutation and
-a little gossip, and then he began to tell his business. He had been settling an affair
-between himself and another chief, and it fell to his share to provide the feast of
-ratification, and naturally he wished to do it well.
-</p>
-<p>Now he had no suitable slave to kill for the occasion, which was unfortunate, so he
-had come to his friend to see if he could help him out of this serious difficulty
-by selling him a slave.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb38">[<a href="#pb38">38</a>]</span></p>
-<p>“No,” said my master, “I cannot help you; I have no one to sell.”
-</p>
-<p>Then there was much talking and pleading. “You have so many slaves in your village,
-do let us have one, even if only a little one.”
-</p>
-<p>But for some time he held out, and refused to sell, and we who were listening began
-to hope that we were safe for this time at any rate, until at last we heard the words,
-“Well, take my wife’s boy: he is small and not of much use to me. Take Makweke.”
-</p>
-<p>Makweke was a little lad whom the chief had given to his wife to look after her two
-baby girls, of whom they were both very fond. The woman liked Makweke and was kind
-to him, and not having a boy of her own she treated him better than most of the slaves.
-So when she heard her husband’s words she whispered to the boy to run and hide, and
-told him of a safe hiding-place.
-</p>
-<p>Away he went into the bush, and we sat down and waited.
-</p>
-<p>Soon the chief called, “<i lang="bnt">Makweke, dua pelepele</i>” (“Come quickly”), but receiving no answer he called again.
-</p>
-<p>Then his wife answered, “Makweke is not here; he was, but has gone.”
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb39">[<a href="#pb39">39</a>]</span></p>
-<p>“Call him,” said the chief; “I want him here.”
-</p>
-<p>The woman answered, “I cannot call him; if you want him you must search for him yourself.”
-</p>
-<p>So, receiving the chief’s permission, the people rushed out and searched for Makweke
-in the houses and all over the village, then in the gardens at the back, but they
-found no trace of him. Into the forest they went and hunted in every direction, beating
-the bushes with sticks, and peering up into the big trees, trying to discover his
-hiding-place; but it was all in vain. The search failed, and they returned to their
-own village in great anger at being thwarted in their plans.
-</p>
-<p>But I must tell you of Makweke. He ran off to a little distance, climbed a tree, and
-let himself down into the hollow trunk—the hiding-place of which he had been told.
-There he was safe, but he could hear the noise and shoutings of the people who were
-searching for him getting nearer and nearer, until at last they reached his tree,
-halted, beat the bushes under it and the lower branches with their sticks, and then—what
-relief!—passed on.
-</p>
-<p>He told us afterwards that he was so scared he hardly dared breathe, and although
-he knew <span class="pageNum" id="pb40">[<a href="#pb40">40</a>]</span>they could not see him, he trembled with fear as long as they were near.
-</p>
-<p>Late at night, after the visitors had left, his mistress took some food out to him,
-and told him to remain there until the morning, when probably her husband’s anger
-would be finished. Then he might come back to the village. He did so, and the affair
-passed without further trouble.
-</p>
-<p>All this decided us that we would not remain in such a place of danger a day longer
-than we could help. I was older now, and had grown big and strong, and once across
-the river I knew that a warm welcome would be accorded to me and any who went with
-me. Our only fear was of recapture before we could reach the river, but we all felt
-it was worth risking, so from that time we began in dead earnest to look out for an
-opportunity of running away.
-</p>
-<p>Not so very long after the chief and some of his people went to pay a visit and remained
-over night. All was quiet in the village, and no one troubled about us boys, so in
-the dense darkness of a moonless night we gathered together.
-</p>
-<p>Hastily we made our plans, picked up the little food we had saved from our evening
-meal, <span class="pageNum" id="pb41">[<a href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>grasped our hunting spears and knives, and slipped away into the bush at the back
-of the village. We went very stealthily—<i lang="bnt">nya-nya</i>, like a leopard when he is stalking his prey—scared at every sound, starting at the
-snapping of a twig, the call of a night-bird or the whistle of an insect.
-</p>
-<p>On and on we pressed, not daring to speak to each other, lest we might betray our
-whereabouts to some unfriendly native, or one who was friendly to our masters, scarcely
-able to see the path, for the moon had not yet risen, scratching ourselves as we passed
-thorny bushes, treading on sticks and roots of trees projecting from the ground—and
-still on—what mattered wounds or weariness if at last we reached the river and liberty?
-</p>
-<p>We made good progress during the first few hours, and were not much afraid of pursuit,
-as our flight would not be discovered until morning; but by and by some of our party
-(which consisted of a man and his wife with a little child as well as three of us
-boys) began to get weary, and it was necessary that we should get away from the main
-road, lest we should be overtaken. So we turned off into a side road, and at a little
-distance from it we <span class="pageNum" id="pb42">[<a href="#pb42">42</a>]</span>found a large fallen tree which made a good hiding-place. There we lay down and slept
-for some time, one of us taking turns at watching and listening.
-</p>
-<p>In the morning we were startled by hearing voices not far off, and as we listened
-we recognised them as belonging to natives of the village we had left. Yes, they had
-awakened to find us gone; and now a search party was out scouring the forest in every
-direction for signs of us. We dared not move nor speak, and how anxious we were that
-the child should not cry! Nearer and nearer came the voices till they sounded almost
-close at hand, and then they receded gradually, and at last died away in the distance.
-We were nearly caught, but not quite!
-</p>
-<p>After waiting for some time, we went out to look round, and on the main road we traced
-the footprints of our pursuers distinctly; they had passed our footpath by, and so
-we escaped recapture. From now onwards we had to keep to bypaths, sometimes cutting
-our way through dense forest, spending our nights under fallen trees or on the ground,
-hungry and weary; but in spite of all our difficulties we reached the river bank at
-last.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb43">[<a href="#pb43">43</a>]</span></p>
-<p>We were still far from home, but once on the other bank we would at least be safe
-from pursuit. Our people have a proverb, “<i lang="bnt">Nta fendaka ntandu la mposa e’ola</i>”—that is, “You cannot cross the river by means of a thirst for home.” This is certainly
-a true saying, so we had to seek for a canoe to take us over. One of our party set
-out along the bank to see if there were any moored there, as people often go out fishing
-and leave their canoes with no one to look after them. This was our hope, and it was
-fulfilled.
-</p>
-<p>Not far away was found a canoe with paddles in it, and no sign of the owners. We determined
-to watch it until sundown, and then, if no one appeared, to take it and set out. For
-the remainder of that day we rested, and sought for some food to stay our hunger.
-How we rejoiced to find some edible caterpillars, which were delicious, and made us
-feel stronger for our night’s work! Just as the darkness was coming on, when you cannot
-tell one man from another, we crept along the bank, stepped into the canoe, grasped
-the paddles, and silently pushed off into the stream.
-</p>
-<p>We boys were delighted to be on the river again, and we did paddle! But had any people
-been about we might have lost everything even <span class="pageNum" id="pb44">[<a href="#pb44">44</a>]</span>then, for the woman who came with us had been born on that side of the river, and
-had never been on the water in her life. She sat down in the bottom, clasping her
-child, and trembling with fear. Every time the canoe gave a lurch she would utter
-a little half-suppressed scream, and say, “<i lang="bnt">Na gwa! Na kwe bona?</i>” (“I am dying. What shall I do?”). We could not help laughing at her, but it did
-no good, she was really very much afraid. We got safely over, tied the canoe to the
-bank, and left it for the owners to find as best they might, and plunged once more
-into the forest.
-</p>
-<p>Now that we were on the safe side of the river we did not need to be so careful about
-keeping away from the roads; we only hid if we heard voices, not knowing to whom they
-might belong. Two more nights were passed in the thick forest, and two more days we
-spent walking on, just managing to keep alive by eating fruit, roots, caterpillars,
-or anything we could find that was edible. When we were nearing home we again heard
-voices not far off.
-</p>
-<p>We listened. Yes, I recognised them. They were people from my father’s village. Accosting
-them, we made inquiries about our friends, and were glad to find that all was well.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb45">[<a href="#pb45">45</a>]</span></p>
-<p>On we pressed with renewed energy, and towards evening we arrived in the village,
-worn out with anxiety, exhausted from want of food, and ready to drop with weariness;
-but how glad we were to be there!
-</p>
-<p>And what a welcome we all had! My father and mother received us with great rejoicing—our
-fellow travellers for my sake—and what a feast was made in our honour! After the feast
-I told my story, and many were the questions asked and the comments made as the villagers
-listened.
-</p>
-<p>Thus we arrived back at home, and thus we were welcomed, and on the next day a great
-dance was held in our honour. And for ourselves, what shall I say? We—we were ready
-to die of happiness! And yet the day was coming when we would wish that we had stayed
-where we were, even as slaves of the cannibals.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb46">[<a href="#pb46">46</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch3" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e260">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER III</h2>
-<h2 class="main">The Coming of Bokakala</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">At home again—I choose a wife—How I went courting—And was married—My visits to the
-white men—They talk of “one Jesus”—The other white man, Bokakala—He wants rubber—We
-are eager to get it—How rubber was collected—The rubber market—“<i>We did not know.</i>”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">After I got back home, it was some little time before we all settled down again to
-the old ways. As I said, there was much rejoicing, accompanied by feasting and dancing,
-and then when that was over, I had to visit many friends, while others came to visit
-me.
-</p>
-<p>We all enjoyed the feasting and soon got strong and well again, some of us quite stout;
-but it was not long before we got tired of answering so many inquiries, and listening
-to so many comments; so off we went into the forest to cut bamboos and reeds for thatching,
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb47">[<a href="#pb47">47</a>]</span>and trees for building, and set to work to build new houses for ourselves. It was
-soon settled that the family who had come with us from the cannibal country should
-remain in our village, so the husband started building a house for them not far from
-ours.
-</p>
-<p>As time went on I began to think it would be a good thing to get married, and as my
-father was quite ready to find the riches I should need to pass over to the father
-of my chosen wife, I did not lose any time in making known my wishes to her.
-</p>
-<p>Her name was Bamatafe, and she was considered very beautiful. Her skin was of a light
-brown colour, and decorated all over in various patterns of cicatrised cuttings, and
-when well rubbed with palm oil and camwood powder would shine in the sun. She was
-usually dressed in a wild-cat skin and fresh plantain leaves frayed out at the edges
-and suspended from a string of blue beads round the waist. Her hair was dressed in
-our most beautiful style—called <i lang="bnt">besíngya</i>—that is, all the hair is divided into very small portions, each of which is rolled
-in oil sprinkled plentifully with red camwood powder and another kind of sweet-smelling
-powder made from nuts. Her eyes were black, <span class="pageNum" id="pb48">[<a href="#pb48">48</a>]</span>and her teeth were chiseled to very sharp points.
-</p>
-<p>Such was the girl I loved; and now that you know what she looked like, can you wonder
-that I wanted her?
-</p>
-<p>But of course I had to find out if she were willing to come to me, so I determined
-to pay a few visits to her home.
-</p>
-<p>On the first occasion I simply passed by and looked at her as she was sitting in her
-father’s house; but I went again, and, drawing near, I said to her, “<i lang="bnt">Bamatafe, o l’eko?</i>” (salutation, “Are you there?”) to which she answered, “I am there; Are you there?”
-and I said “O yes!”
-</p>
-<p>I felt very encouraged after that interview, and the next time stayed and talked with
-her for a while; then when a few days had passed I carried her a fine fat hen for
-a present. When she accepted that I knew it was all right for me, she was agreeable.
-</p>
-<p>I immediately went and told my father about it, and he arranged with hers about the
-amount of riches which was to be paid as pledge money on the occasion of our marriage.
-A spear was passed over as earnest of the other things to come, and that evening I
-brought home my wife.
-</p>
-<p>Her beauty was greatly admired, and according <span class="pageNum" id="pb49">[<a href="#pb49">49</a>]</span>to our custom I had to make a lot of presents to the people who admired her so much.
-Every one of the young men thought me very fortunate in securing such a beautiful
-wife. And I soon found that she was clever also, for she could cook well; and at once
-she set about planting a big garden, which showed that she was industrious.
-</p>
-<p>We settled down to village life then—building houses, making canoes and other things,
-getting our knives, spears, and ornaments made by the village blacksmith, hunting,
-fishing, palaver talking, paying and receiving visits, having a good time generally,
-and feeling so glad to be really free—free from bondage and servitude.
-</p>
-<p>I often paid visits to the white men of whom we had heard so many rumours on the other
-side of the river, and became quite friendly with them. I could not quite understand
-them: their words were good certainly, but they said they had come to our land simply
-to tell us those words, and not to get anything from us.
-</p>
-<p>Naturally that seemed strange to me—our people always want to get and not to give—“but
-then,” thought I, “there is no accounting for people who are such freaks as to have
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb50">[<a href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>white skins; perhaps it is their way; and if so, what more?” They were always talking
-about one Jesus, who was very good and kind and loved us, and who they say died and
-rose again and is now alive. That was too much! Who ever saw a person rise from death,
-and if He were alive and really cared for us, why did He himself not come and see
-us? So we said, “When we see Him, we will believe.” Of course, it is only <i lang="bnt">nsao</i> (legend or fable).
-</p>
-<p>We went to see them, and took them an egg or a chicken, or perhaps a little manioca
-now and then, and listened to their words and heard them sing, and we always came
-away thinking what wonderful people they were, and how much wisdom they had.
-</p>
-<p>And then there came to our district another white man, and he built a house not far
-from the compound of these white men of God, and settled down there. At first we thought
-that he and the other white men were brothers: all had white faces and straight hair
-like monkeys; they seemed friendly and helped each other, and we never saw them fight
-or quarrel as we so often do. But after a while we saw that there was a difference,
-for the new white man called a palaver, and our chiefs gathered <span class="pageNum" id="pb51">[<a href="#pb51">51</a>]</span>together from all the villages around the district, and, of course, many of us young
-men went with them to hear what it was all about.
-</p>
-<p>It was this: the new white man—we called him Bokakala—had come to live with us because
-he had heard that in our forest grew the rubber vine in abundance, and he wanted rubber—plenty
-of it. Not only so, but would pay for it—brass rods, beads, salt! Now would the chiefs
-get it for him? Would they be willing to send their young men into the forest to collect
-the rubber sap? And would the young men go?
-</p>
-<p>Oh, how we laughed! How we danced! Who ever heard of placing any value on the rubber
-plant except for the fruit to eat? Fancy getting salt—white man’s salt—just for bringing
-rubber! Of course we would go and get it. Could we not start at once?
-</p>
-<p>Then Bokakala got out some baskets to give us to put the rubber in, and there was
-such a scramble for those baskets—we almost fought as to who should get the first
-chance of possessing a rubber basket.
-</p>
-<p>The white man seemed pleased, and gave presents to the chiefs; and we were pleased,
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb52">[<a href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>anxious to get off at once, at the first possible minute, to search for rubber, to
-obtain for ourselves some of that wonderful salt from Europe. We had already tasted
-it, and once tasted, there is nothing else that will satisfy the desire for it.
-</p>
-<p>Away into the forest we went—not far, for there was plenty of rubber in those days—and
-were soon busy making incisions in the vines and catching the drops of sap as they
-fell in little pots or calabashes ready to bring it home with us in the evening. There
-was great rivalry amongst us as to who could get the largest quantity. Then when we
-thought we had sufficient we returned to our homes with it and sought for the plant
-with which it must be mixed in order for it to coagulate. This grows in great quantities
-near many of our villages, and we call it <i lang="bnt">bekaaku</i>. Having mixed the two saps they formed a substance solid enough to make into balls
-about the size of a rubber fruit. These, packed into the baskets which the white man
-had given us, were ready for carrying to him.
-</p>
-<p>When we took our well-filled baskets and presented them at his house Bokakala was
-much pleased, and we wondered that any man <span class="pageNum" id="pb53">[<a href="#pb53">53</a>]</span>should be so easily satisfied, for we could not understand of what use the rubber
-could be to him. However, he gave us salt and beads, and if we gained by his foolishness,
-why should we object?
-</p>
-<p>We continued to take him rubber, and in course of time a special day was set apart
-(the fifth day of the white man’s week) on which rubber was to be brought regularly,
-and that day soon came to be called by us <i lang="bnt">mbile e’otofe</i> (rubber day), and is so called to the present time.
-</p>
-<p>Week after week the rubber market was held, and Bokakala was good to us—he gave us
-salt, cloth, and beads in exchange for what we brought; he talked and chatted with
-us, settled our palavers for us, taught us many things, and even named some of our
-children after himself and gave them presents.
-</p>
-<p>In those days we had no palaver with Bokakala; it was after he left us that trouble
-began. Many times since we have regretted that we welcomed Bokakala as we did because
-of what happened afterwards, but at the beginning he treated us well, and we did not
-know what would follow. Perhaps he did not know either, but it seems to us that we
-made our great <span class="pageNum" id="pb54">[<a href="#pb54">54</a>]</span>mistake in accepting his first offers. We were tempted and fell into a trap; but we
-say to ourselves over and over again when we think and speak of those times, “It was
-all right at first, but <span class="asc">WE DID NOT KNOW</span>.”
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb55">[<a href="#pb55">55</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch4" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e274">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER IV</h2>
-<h2 class="main">The Beginning of Sorrows</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">The coming of more white men—A change in our treatment—Things go from bad to worse—I
-get tired of collecting rubber—And stay at home—The white man’s anger and threats—I
-go to a palaver—My rubber is short—I am whipped—The white man’s new plan—Forest guards—Their
-oppression and greed—We report them to the white man—Results—But the worst not yet.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">When Bokakala had been with us some time, other white men came to our country, and
-they also wanted rubber. “Why do they want so much rubber?” we asked; for we could
-not see why they should be continually wanting the same thing. That is not our way;
-we feel a thirst for a thing for a time, but in a little while it is finished, and
-we want something else. Later on Bokakala left us to go to his own land to seek for
-strength in his <span class="pageNum" id="pb56">[<a href="#pb56">56</a>]</span>body, and he left us another white man, whom we called “Leopard”; but they were all
-known afterwards as Bokakala’s white men.
-</p>
-<p>When the day of rubber came round week after week, we took in to the white man our
-little baskets of rubber balls, and received in exchange salt or beads; or if, as
-sometimes happened, he had none of these articles left, he would give us a book to
-keep, and pay us in kind when his boxes arrived. So far we had not had any trouble
-between us and the white man; he and we were satisfied with the barter we carried
-on.
-</p>
-<p>But changes came—another white man came to help Leopard in his work, and he was different
-from other white men, he was not good, so we gave him a bad name which meant “Pillage”
-or “Brigandage,” though I do not suppose he ever knew what it meant.
-</p>
-<p>Naturally a change took place in the way we were treated, and gradually things got
-worse and worse.
-</p>
-<p>Now it is well known that no man goes on for ever at one thing without getting tired,
-and wanting a rest. And when I had been going to and fro to the forest getting rubber
-for a long time, I began to wish to sit down in <span class="pageNum" id="pb57">[<a href="#pb57">57</a>]</span>town for a little while, especially as by this time Bamatafe had given birth to a
-little son, of whom I was very proud, as he was our firstborn.
-</p>
-<p>So one week I stayed at home when the young men went to the forest, and when the day
-of rubber fell I had no rubber, and did not go to the white man’s place.
-</p>
-<p>As usual, our names were called out of a book, and when mine was reached some one
-answered, “He has not come.” Then the white man was angry, and said that if Bokwala
-did not come to the next market he would have a big palaver. My friends came home
-and told me his words, and the next time I went with them and was told that I must
-never miss coming—the rubber <i>must</i> be brought in regularly without fail, or there would be “chicotte,” or perhaps even
-prison for those who missed coming.
-</p>
-<p>After that I went regularly for a long time, but on one occasion there was a great
-palaver to be talked in our village, and it was necessary for me to be present at
-it. At this time we had to collect a certain weight of rubber and present it at the
-white man’s place every fifteenth day. It took almost all our time to go to and from
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb58">[<a href="#pb58">58</a>]</span>the forest and collect the rubber, for it was becoming very scarce.
-</p>
-<p>So when the day came for carrying my basket to the white man I had not the prescribed
-quantity. I knew that when my turn came to have my rubber weighed the white man would
-be angry and scold me, but said I, “<i lang="bnt">Lotango nta wak’ontu</i>” (“Reproach does not kill a man”), and I did not expect anything worse.
-</p>
-<p>But the order was given, “<i lang="bnt">Etama</i>” (“Lie down”).
-</p>
-<p>I could scarcely believe my ears—I, the son of a chief, to be whipped publicly!
-</p>
-<p>It was true. I was placed face down on the ground, my cloth turned back, and the twisted
-hippo hide whip was brought out by one of the servants of the white man.
-</p>
-<p>Down it came on me, lash after lash, cutting clean into the flesh at every stroke,
-and causing the blood to flow!
-</p>
-<p>I do not know how many strokes were given me then; how could I count? The pain was
-bad enough, but the shame was worse. Then I was sent off, the blood drops on the sand
-showing the path I followed, without payment for the rubber I had brought, and with
-the order to bring a double quantity next time.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb59">[<a href="#pb59">59</a>]</span></p>
-<p>For my own sake I tried to do so. I bought some from a man in the village who had
-managed to amass a reserve stock, but I had to pay a ruinous price for it. I soaked
-some in water to make it heavier, and next time I was allowed to leave without any
-punishment.
-</p>
-<p>One day the white man told us of a new arrangement he was making for us rubber workers.
-A number of men were to be set apart as sentries, we called them, but the white man
-called them guards of the forest. They were to be taken from amongst our own people,
-and armed with guns, and they would accompany us on our journeys to and from the forest
-and protect us, and they would also escort us to the white man’s place when the day
-arrived for taking in the collected rubber. This sounded well, and as the rubber grew
-more and more scarce, and we had to go further into the forest to secure it, surely,
-we thought, a gun would be a protection, and keep our enemies from interfering with
-us.
-</p>
-<p>Alas! once more were our hopes dashed to the ground. These men, who were supposed
-to be our protectors, became in time our worst oppressors. Instead of going with us
-into the forest, they at once appropriated the best houses <span class="pageNum" id="pb60">[<a href="#pb60">60</a>]</span>in the villages for themselves, or if these were not good enough for them, they caused
-new ones to be erected at our expense. After hurrying us off to the forest alone and
-unprotected at the earliest possible moment, they established themselves in the village,
-and lived in such a style as to far outshine any of our chiefs—in fact, taking a delight
-in insulting and depreciating them and relegating to themselves every vestige of authority
-which had formerly been vested in the chiefs of our own people.
-</p>
-<p>As soon as ever we young men had gone, they behaved as though everything in the village
-belonged to them; the few goats we had, our fowls, dogs, food, all our goods and possessions—nothing
-was safe from their greed, and it was not long before even our wives were not safe
-if left at home alone.
-</p>
-<p>Things had been gradually getting worse for a long time, and now that the sentries
-were placed over us were so much worse than ever before that we began to give up hope.
-</p>
-<p>We reported their doings to the white man many times, but we soon found that he and
-they were as one man, and that if we told we almost invariably lost the palaver before
-the white man, and then the sentries found means <span class="pageNum" id="pb61">[<a href="#pb61">61</a>]</span>of their own to punish us for having spoken against them.
-</p>
-<p>We frequently visited the other white men when we had the time to spare—I mean those
-who taught about God—and told them our grievances.
-</p>
-<p>They listened and wrote the things we told them in a book, and tried very hard to
-get things put right for us; but with a bad white man in charge of worse black men
-who were all armed with guns and given free scope in the villages, it was little they
-could do.
-</p>
-<p>On several occasions they did win cases for us, and we always knew that things would
-be worse if they were not in our midst to see and hear what was done, and to take
-our part against our oppressors.
-</p>
-<p>“Times were bad!” do you say? You are sorry for us?
-</p>
-<p>Yes, white men of Europe, they were bad, even then; but I have not reached the worst
-part of my story. Then, if you do indeed feel pity, your hearts will weep for us,
-and you will be filled with grief and with anger.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb62">[<a href="#pb62">62</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch5" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e284">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER V</h2>
-<h2 class="main">Oppression, Shame, and Torture</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">My new slavery—How our villagers fared at home—The white man’s meat—How it was got—The
-white men of God and their pity—How the women were enslaved—Feeding the idle—Endeavours
-to evade oppression—Results—How would you like our conditions?—Forest work—Its hardships—The
-day of reckoning—Back to the village and home—An ominous silence—A sad discovery—Redeeming
-our wives—An offending villager—A poor victim—A ghastly punishment—The woman’s death—Another
-village—The monkey-hunters—The old man who stayed at home—How he was tortured—No redress.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">I think you white people who hear my story will see that by this time my name Bokwala
-(slave) was being verified for the second time; for though the slavery to the black
-man was bad and caused me much shame, that which we had to undergo now was, in some
-ways, worse; and, though most of the very worst things were done <span class="pageNum" id="pb63">[<a href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>by the sentries, the white man agreed to them.
-</p>
-<p>At least, we thought he did, as he scarcely ever lost a palaver for them. This kind
-of treatment, constant rubber collecting, no rest, and sometimes no pay—what can it
-be called but another kind of slavery?
-</p>
-<p>I want to tell you some of the things which happened during this time of oppression.
-It is not only we men who go into the forest who suffer; but also those who are left
-at home in the villages, our old fathers and mothers, our wives and little children.
-</p>
-<p>The white man wanted fresh meat for his table, so he ordered the old men in the villages
-to hunt antelopes in the forest for him, and bring them in alive. The hunting was
-easy, but not so the catching of animals alive. That meant great care in dealing with
-such animals as were inside our enclosures of nets, so as not to allow their escape
-while endeavouring not to kill them.
-</p>
-<p>Then other kinds, the water antelopes especially, are dangerous, and cannot be caught
-alive without the captor receiving wounds from their sharp teeth. When once caught,
-their legs were broken in order to prevent their escape on the <span class="pageNum" id="pb64">[<a href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>journey to the white man’s compound, and thus our fathers supplied the white man’s
-table with fresh meat.
-</p>
-<p>Some of the villages had to supply one, two, or even four animals weekly, and one
-white man would not take them with broken legs because he wanted to keep them alive
-on his own place.
-</p>
-<p>I have been told also that some of the white men of God and their wives remonstrated
-with the carriers of these broken-legged animals who happened to pass their houses,
-with regard to the cruelty of breaking the legs. They say they feel pity for the antelopes!
-Of course, the men laughed at that, because who pities animals? They are not men,
-or we should pity them. White men are strange kind of people!
-</p>
-<p>Again, when the white man’s compound grew large and he had many people working for
-him, he needed food with which to provide for their needs. Not only his actual servants
-but their wives and families, and sometimes others went and sat down, as we say, on
-the white man’s place, for there they had an easy time.
-</p>
-<p>In order to supply all that was needed the women in the villages had to work very
-large gardens, much larger than would otherwise <span class="pageNum" id="pb65">[<a href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>have been necessary; then dig the roots of the manioca; peel and steep it in the river
-for four or five days; carry it back again to their homes in heavily laden baskets
-up steep hillsides; pound, mould into long strips, wrap in leaves, bind with creeper-string,
-and finally boil the <i lang="bnt">tökö</i> or <i lang="bnt">kwanga</i>, our native bread. All this meant much work for our women; firewood must be cut and
-carried from the forest, special leaves sought and gathered, and creeper cut for string;
-and every week the food must be taken to the white man’s place punctually.
-</p>
-<p>And for a large bundle of ten pieces one brass rod (5 centimes) is paid to the women!
-</p>
-<p>What seems hardest of all is that much of the food goes to supply families in which
-are plenty of strong women, who are perfectly well able to cook for themselves and
-their husbands.
-</p>
-<p>These women live a life of idleness, and very often of vice, on the land of the white
-man, and frequently treat the village women with disdain and shower contumely upon
-them. If, as sometimes happens, high words ensue, the village women have no chance
-whatever, for the others can say a word to their husbands or paramours, who are armed
-with guns, and it is an easy thing for them to avenge such quarrels on their next
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb66">[<a href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>visit to the village of which the women happen to be natives.
-</p>
-<p>There are generally a few villages in close proximity to the white man’s place the
-natives of which are set apart to supply paddlers, carriers, dried fish for employees’
-rations, manioca bread, &amp;c., and who are not reckoned amongst the rubber workers.
-We used to envy the inhabitants of these places, and some of our people tried to leave
-their own homes and go to reside where the people seemed to us to be better off than
-we were.
-</p>
-<p>But this was not allowed by the white man; if found out, the offence was punished
-severely either with the whip or prison, so we gave it up. And even in these favoured
-villages they had their trials; fowls and eggs were required as well as other little
-things, and they had to be supplied <i>somehow</i>, and it was often <i>anyhow</i>.
-</p>
-<p>As long as the supplies came to hand regularly, and no complaints were made by the
-villagers against the sentries who were sent out to collect the food or call the people,
-all went well. But it could not possibly be peaceful for long, because our people
-were treated in ways that no one, not even an animal, would put up with quietly. And
-although I know you white <span class="pageNum" id="pb67">[<a href="#pb67">67</a>]</span>people do not like to hear of bad doings, I must tell you of some now, or you cannot
-understand how we feel about this rubber and other work which we are compelled to
-do by strangers of whom we know nothing, and to whom we think we owe nothing.
-</p>
-<p>Think how you would feel, if you had been out in the forest for eleven or twelve days
-and nights, perhaps in the wet season, when the wind blows so that you cannot climb
-the trees for fear of either the tree or yourself being blown down; and the rain pours
-in torrents and quickly soaks through the leaf thatch of your temporary hut (just
-a roof supported on four sticks) and puts out your fire, so that all night long you
-sit and shiver; you cannot sleep for the mosquitoes; and, strong man as you are, you
-weep, because the day which is past has passed in vain, you have no rubber!
-</p>
-<p>Then, if a fine morning follows, and you manage to make a fire, (with tinder and flint,)
-eat a little food you have kept over, and start off again in feverish haste to find
-a vine before some one else gets it. You find one, make several incisions, place your
-calabash under the dripping sap, and your hopes begin to rise. Towards evening it
-rains again, and again you <span class="pageNum" id="pb68">[<a href="#pb68">68</a>]</span>can scarcely sleep for the cold; you have nothing to cover yourself with, and the
-only source of warmth is a few smouldering embers in the centre of the hut.
-</p>
-<p>In the middle of the night you have a feeling that something is near, something moving
-stealthily in the darkness, and you see two glaring eyes gazing at you—a leopard or
-<span class="corr" id="xd31e871" title="Source: civit">civet</span> cat is prowling round your shelter. You throw a burning firebrand at it, and with
-a growl it dashes off into the bush.
-</p>
-<p>In the morning you tie another knot in your string, by which you count the days, and
-say, “If only I can get a lot to-day! The time grows short, I shall soon go home.”
-</p>
-<p>Day after day passes in this way, and at last the rubber is ready, or even if it is
-not, the day has dawned; you must start for the white man’s place—and home is on the
-way!
-</p>
-<p>One or two nights are passed on the road, and you draw near to the village.
-</p>
-<p>“What a welcome I shall have! Bamatafe with the baby, Isekokwala, my father, now an
-old man, and my mother, and a feast of good things as I always find.”
-</p>
-<p>As we get near the village, I begin to sing and feel happy, and tell the other men
-what a good <span class="pageNum" id="pb69">[<a href="#pb69">69</a>]</span>wife I have, and what a feast she will have ready for me!
-</p>
-<p>But how quiet it all is—and yes, surely I hear a wail! What can it be?
-</p>
-<p>I rush on ahead, and hear the following story.
-</p>
-<p>In the morning some sentries arrived to bring the rubber men to the white man’s place.
-We had not come in from the forest, so they took our wives, quite a number of them—Bamatafe
-amongst them with her baby at her breast—away to the white man’s prison, or hostage
-house as he calls it, and my relatives are crying over it!
-</p>
-<p>I was mad with rage, but it was too late to do anything that night.
-</p>
-<p>In the morning we took our rubber in to the white man, who received it, refused to
-pay anything for it, but allowed it to pass <i>for the redemption of our wives</i>! Of course, we did not say anything; we were only too glad to get them free at any
-price; for what could we do without them?
-</p>
-<p>You, white men in Europe, who say you feel pity for us, how would you feel if such
-a thing happened to you and your wife and little child? We were treated like that
-not once, but many times.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb70">[<a href="#pb70">70</a>]</span></p>
-<p>In a village not far from my father’s the men were all away on one occasion trying
-to procure what was required of them as their weekly tax. When the day for bringing
-it in fell due, they did not arrive in good time, and as usual sentries were sent
-out to inquire into it.
-</p>
-<p>Finding no men in town, and most of the women having fled into the bush in fear at
-the approach of the sentries, they seized the wife of one of the absent men. She had
-recently become a mother; perhaps she was not strong enough to run away with her companions.
-Anyway she was arrested with her babe at her breast, and taken off to the white man’s
-place, where it was decided to give the village a lesson that they would not soon
-forget.
-</p>
-<p>In the presence of the white man the poor thing was stretched on the ground, and the
-awful hippo-hide whip was brought into requisition. The man who started the whipping
-became tired, and passed the whip over to another to continue it, until at last, when
-the woman was more dead than alive, and in a condition which cannot be described to
-you, the white man gave the order to cease, and she was—set free, did you say?—No,
-<i>sent into the prison house</i>!
-</p>
-<p>An hour or two later her husband arrived and <span class="pageNum" id="pb71">[<a href="#pb71">71</a>]</span>was told that if he wanted to redeem his wife he must bring the white man twenty fowls.
-He succeeded in collecting sixteen, which were refused, then he made up the number,
-and so redeemed his wife and babe. This redemption must have cost him a great deal
-of money, and he was a poor man.
-</p>
-<p>Three days after her return to her home the wife died.
-</p>
-<p>It seems strange, but the child lived, and is alive to-day, a puny, ill-nourished
-child, as you may imagine.
-</p>
-<p>O white women, can you listen to such things unmoved? Think, then, how much worse
-it must be to see them, and live in the midst of them, knowing that the same thing
-might happen to <i>you</i> any day?
-</p>
-<p>In a village situated at some distance from the white man’s compound the sentries
-had established themselves in their usual style of living, in the best houses the
-village could boast of, and began to supply themselves lavishly from the gardens and
-poultry-houses of the villagers. They ordered the old men who were past rubber collecting
-out into the bush to hunt monkeys for them to feast upon.
-</p>
-<p>Day after day the old men went, and brought <span class="pageNum" id="pb72">[<a href="#pb72">72</a>]</span>back the animals required, but one morning there was a heavy fall of rain.
-</p>
-<p>One old man refused to go out in the wet, he said that he could not stand the cold,
-and so remained in his house. His failure to go to the hunt was discovered by the
-sentries, and he was arrested by two of them, stripped, and held down on the ground
-in the open street of the village.
-</p>
-<p>Then they—but I must not tell you what they did, white people do not talk of such
-things.
-</p>
-<p>After that one of the sentries held the left arm of the old man out straight on the
-ground, while another, with his walking-staff (a square sawn stick), beat him on the
-wrist until at last his hand fell off. His sister came to his assistance, and he went
-away with her to his hut to suffer agonies of pain for months.
-</p>
-<p>A long time after the white man of God and his wife were visiting a neighbouring village,
-teaching the people, and this old man found courage to go and tell them his story,
-and show them his arm. Then the wound was green, the bones protruding, and he was
-in a hopeless condition.
-</p>
-<p>But the strange thing was that the arm <span class="pageNum" id="pb73">[<a href="#pb73">73</a>]</span>appeared to have been cut a little below the elbow. The explanation was that the ends
-of the bones had become sharp, and were constantly scratching other parts of his body,
-so he had cut them off from time to time with his own knife. He, with the white man
-of God, went a long journey to the white man in charge of the rubber work, and showed
-him the wound.
-</p>
-<p>But nothing was done, as all his people were too much afraid to bear witness to the
-deeds of the sentries. If they had done so they might have been treated in the same
-way, or even worse. For there was nothing, not even murder, that the sentries were
-afraid to do, and nothing too cruel for them to think of and put in practice.
-</p>
-<p>I think I have told you enough to make you see that we rubber men were not the only
-ones who suffered from the presence of the white men; and now I must tell you more
-of my own story.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb74">[<a href="#pb74">74</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch6" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e294">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER VI</h2>
-<h2 class="main">Some Horrors of Our Lot</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">Our work grows harder—I consult the white man of God—A strange contrast—My plea unavailing—My
-rubber short—I am sent to the prison—The captives—Their work and their punishments—The
-sick—The new-born babe—The dead and their burial—The suspected—How they were tortured—The
-steamer—The rubber chief—The prison opened—A procession of spectres—The place of the
-dead—For a time peace—Work for the man of God—How we fared—My reward—I wish to go
-home.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">I am afraid that you white people will get tired of listening to a constant repetition
-of the same story, but that is just what my life and the lives of my people have consisted
-of ever since the coming of Bokakala—rubber, chicotte, prison, rubber, prison, chicotte;
-and again rubber, nothing but rubber. We see no chance of anything else until we die.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb75">[<a href="#pb75">75</a>]</span></p>
-<p>If you are tired of hearing about it, what do you think we must be of living in it?
-</p>
-<p>The rubber vines were getting worked out in our part of the forest, and almost every
-time we had to go further to get any, but at last we found a way of getting it quicker.
-It was this: when we found a good vine, instead of making incisions and waiting for
-the sap to drip from them, we cut the vine down, dividing it into short lengths. These
-we placed endways in a pot, and left them to drain off all the sap into the pot. In
-this way we got quite a lot of rubber from the one vine, and we rejoiced accordingly.
-</p>
-<p>For a time this way of working rubber helped us over some of our difficulties; it
-gave us a sufficient quantity in a short time, and so we were saved from the anger
-of the white man. But it was not long before we began to find a dearth of vines; for
-those we had cut were useless for future working, and therefore we had to take longer
-journeys into the forest than ever before.
-</p>
-<p>If we went too far in any direction it brought us in contact with the natives of other
-villages who were also seeking for rubber, and regarded us as poaching on their preserves.
-True, there was some rubber on the other side of the river, <span class="pageNum" id="pb76">[<a href="#pb76">76</a>]</span>but there we dared not go, because of the age-long feud between the natives of that
-part and ourselves—we feared that if we went we should never return.
-</p>
-<p>After much consideration, I thought there was just one chance of getting free; so
-I went to see the white man of God, taking him a present which I hoped would show
-him that I really meant what I said, and asked him to take me on to work for him.
-</p>
-<p>He received the fowl I gave him, but not as a gift; he would insist on paying for
-it its full value, and giving me a few spoonfuls of salt over. (Truly the ways of
-white men are unaccountable! Some compel one to supply against one’s will what they
-want, and pay nothing or next to nothing for it; and then others refuse to take a
-thing as a gift, but insist on paying for it! Of course, we like the latter way, but
-should not think of doing so ourselves.)
-</p>
-<p>Then he explained to me that it was impossible; he could not engage any man who held
-a “book” for rubber, and as I did hold one and my name was on the rubber workers’
-list, it was out of the question. I pleaded with him, Bamatafe pleaded for me. We
-returned again on the following day to try once more, but it was in vain. I <span class="pageNum" id="pb77">[<a href="#pb77">77</a>]</span>had to go back to my rubber work in the forest.
-</p>
-<p>Soon after this a day came when my rubber was short weight. I had failed to find a
-good vine, and though I soaked the rubber in water to make it heavier, the white man
-noticed and refused to pass it. As a result, I did not return home that night, but
-spent it and several more in the white man’s prison.
-</p>
-<p>I had heard much about this place from Bamatafe and others, who had frequently been
-in it, and so was not so surprised as I otherwise might have been. Prison to us who
-are used to an outdoor life in the forest has always a horrible aspect; but such a
-prison as that was is beyond description. And yet I must tell you something about
-it.
-</p>
-<p>The building itself was a long, narrow hut with thatched roof, bamboo walls, and mud
-floor. That was all; and it was crowded promiscuously with men and women of all ages
-and conditions. These were fastened together with cords or chains round the neck,
-in groups of about ten with a fathom of chain or cord between each.
-</p>
-<p>There were old men and women with grey hair and shrivelled skins, looking more like
-moving skeletons than living people, with <span class="pageNum" id="pb78">[<a href="#pb78">78</a>]</span>scarcely enough cloth or leaves for decent covering. Strong, capable women were there
-who should have been working happily at home for their husbands; women with babies
-only a few days’ or weeks’ old at their breasts; women in delicate health; young girls;
-the wives of husbands who had somehow failed to satisfy the demands made upon them;
-and young lads who had tried to shirk paddling the heavily laden rubber boats—all
-these were there, crowded together in that one shed without privacy or sanitary arrangement
-of any kind from sundown to sunrise, and some of them for weeks together.
-</p>
-<p>The smell was horrible, the hunger and thirst intense, and the publicity in some ways
-worst of all. I myself was not hungry that first night, and Bamatafe came to and fro
-with food for me on the following days; but much of it I never ate. Some of my fellow-prisoners
-were so ravenously hungry, that it was impossible to save any scraps, even if I had
-wanted to. Many of them, coming from a distance, had no friends to supply their needs.
-</p>
-<p>Early in the morning we were turned out in charge of sentries to clean the paths of
-the compound, carry water, work on houses, cut up and pack rubber, and carry the filled
-baskets <span class="pageNum" id="pb79">[<a href="#pb79">79</a>]</span>from the store to the river ready for transport by canoe or boat to the place of the
-great rubber chief down river. If the work done failed to satisfy the sentry, or he
-had any old scores to pay off to a prisoner who was in his power, the chicotte or
-the butt-end of the gun was always at hand, and proved an easy means of chastisement
-for either man or woman, the latter frequently incurring it for nothing worse than
-a desire for chastity.
-</p>
-<p>Then at sundown we were marched back to the prison house for another night of horrors.
-It was often impossible to sleep.
-</p>
-<p>On one night in particular we were kept awake hour after hour by the groaning of some
-of the sick ones, and then towards morning, after a little sleep, we were aroused
-again by the puny wail of a new-born babe. Was it any wonder that its first cries
-were weak, and that the little life so recently given seemed on the point of ebbing
-away? In the morning the sentries agreed that the mother was not fit for work, and
-reported to the white man accordingly; but three days afterwards the mother was out
-at work in the hot sun with her baby at her back.
-</p>
-<p>Many prisoners died at the time of which I <span class="pageNum" id="pb80">[<a href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>speak—two, three, five, sometimes ten in a day—there was so much hunger and thirst
-and sickness. When one died, they tied a string round his foot, and dragged him a
-little way into the bush, dug a shallow hole, and covered him with earth. There were
-so many that the place became a great mound, and the burials were so carelessly done
-that one could often see a foot, hand, or even head left exposed; and the stench became
-so bad that people were unable to pass by the road which was near the “grave.”
-</p>
-<p>And yet, bad as all this was, something happened there which made me glad that I was
-an ordinary prisoner, and not (what I had thought impossible) something worse. Four
-big, strong young men were suspected of having stolen some rubber from the white man’s
-store. It may have been a true accusation; that I do not know—no one knows.
-</p>
-<p>The white man was furious, and said that he would make an example of them, which he
-proceeded to do. Four tall poles were procured and planted in the ground at the back
-of his own house, and the four men were brought.
-</p>
-<p>Their heads and beards were shaven, they <span class="pageNum" id="pb81">[<a href="#pb81">81</a>]</span>were stripped of their loin cloths, and tied to these poles, not only by the lower
-parts of their bodies, but by their heads, so that they could not move at all.
-</p>
-<p>This happened in the morning.
-</p>
-<p>The sun climbed up, and stood overhead—they were still there.
-</p>
-<p>The sun slipped down, down, down—they were still there.
-</p>
-<p>No food or water had they tasted all day, so they were parched with thirst. They pled
-for water, none was given; for a covering for their shame, no notice was taken; and
-at last, in sheer despair, they entreated that they might be shot—they would rather,
-far rather, die than endure the shame of remaining any longer in a public place in
-such a condition.
-</p>
-<p>At night they were released from their agony, only to be sent to prison, and finally
-exiled up river. The charge was never proved against them. But the white man of God
-heard about the affair, and talked the palaver with the rubber chief, and eventually
-they were released and came back to their own villages.
-</p>
-<p>One day we heard a steamer whistle; it was coming to our landing-place. “Oh, joy!
-perhaps the white man will let us go,” we thought. <span class="pageNum" id="pb82">[<a href="#pb82">82</a>]</span>He often did send prisoners off to their homes when a steamer whistled, which seemed
-strange to us in those days, but it mattered not to us why he did it, if only we might
-get free.
-</p>
-<p>To our disappointment he did not do so on this occasion, and we soon heard that the
-big chief of rubber had come. We wondered what he would do to us, if things might
-be worse, although we did not see how that could be.
-</p>
-<p>Afterwards we found that the white men of God had been writing many letters to him
-about us and the way in which we were treated, and he had come to see for himself.
-He did so, with the result that he opened the doors of the prison house, and told
-us to walk out. He commenced to count us, but gave it up: we were so many. He told
-us we were free, and could go to our homes. We could scarcely believe it, it seemed
-to be too good to be true; but we immediately set off with hearts full of joy.
-</p>
-<p>You may think what a merry procession we must have been, perhaps even that we were
-singing and dancing with delight, because we were free! Not so; we must have looked
-more like a procession of spectres. Some, too weak to walk, were carried on the backs
-of others not <span class="pageNum" id="pb83">[<a href="#pb83">83</a>]</span>much stronger than themselves; women weak and ill, some soon to become mothers, and
-others with young babes looking as sickly as themselves; men and women both so famished
-with hunger that they had tied strips of plantain fibre tightly round their stomachs
-to try and stay the craving for food!
-</p>
-<p>How eagerly we drank the water and devoured the little food that was given to us by
-friendly people as we passed, and how the old men and women called out blessings on
-the head of the chief of rubber and the white man of God who had interceded for us!
-We noticed that as we passed through their compound the white men and women of God
-were actually crying with tears for our sorrows, and yet how glad they were to see
-us free!
-</p>
-<p>Yes, we were free, but many who lived at a distance and were old or sick never reached
-their homes again. One died at the place of the white man of God, two or three in
-villages a little further on, and many who entered the forest were never heard of
-again; they probably died of hunger, and their bodies must have been devoured by wild
-animals.
-</p>
-<p>I was one of the last to leave the prison, and as I did so the great chief was making
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb84">[<a href="#pb84">84</a>]</span>inquiries about the prison grave of which he had heard. He said to me, “Will you show
-me the place?”
-</p>
-<p>I answered, “Oh, yes, white man, it is not far. Just over in the bush yonder; but
-if you come, bring a cloth to hold your nose; for you will not reach the place without
-it.”
-</p>
-<p>He said, “Is it as bad as that? Then I think I will not go.” And he did not.
-</p>
-<p>The end of it was that the bad white man who had been so cruel to us was sent away
-to Europe, and a new one came to us who was much kinder in his treatment of us, and
-for a time we had peace.
-</p>
-<p>Then came my opportunity; for while there were not so many palavers going on, there
-was freer intercourse between the rubber white men and the white men of God, and so
-it became possible for the latter to take a few of us rubber men to work for them.
-</p>
-<p>As I had begged so long for that very chance I was one of the first chosen; and how
-can I describe the joy with which I said farewell to rubber work, and went with my
-wife and child to reside near the compound of my new master.
-</p>
-<p>Everything was so different; it was like <span class="pageNum" id="pb85">[<a href="#pb85">85</a>]</span>having a rest, although, of course, I do not mean that we did not have any work. We
-had plenty, and it had to be well done; but there were regular times, and home and
-food and a welcome from the wife in the evening when one returned from work tired,
-instead of cold, wet, hunger, and fear in the forest. I thought I had indeed reached
-a good place, and should never want to leave it, so I set to work with a will.
-</p>
-<p>By and by I was taught to use the saw, and became one of the staff of pit sawyers
-who were cutting up wood for house building. We worked from sunrise to sunset, with
-two hours off for rest mid-day; but sometimes we did piece-work, and then our hours
-were shorter. We received a monthly wage, and a weekly allowance for rations; and
-as our wives kept their own gardens, and sometimes went fishing, we were well supplied
-with food and soon got strong and well.
-</p>
-<p>Each morning before we commenced work there was a service in the chapel which we all
-had to attend, and later on there was school for the boys and domestic servants of
-the white people and for our children and any who liked to attend from the villages.
-Some evenings <span class="pageNum" id="pb86">[<a href="#pb86">86</a>]</span>there were preaching services or classes for inquirers, and occasionally the white
-man showed us pictures with a lamp.
-</p>
-<p>The pictures appeared on a large cloth which was hung from above, and we liked seeing
-them very much. But we were also somewhat afraid of them, especially when we saw some
-of our own people who were dead—we thought it must be their spirits! And when we went
-round to the other side to see their backs, behold, they had none, but only another
-front, so we thought there must be something strange about them; for we have never
-seen people with two fronts and no backs!
-</p>
-<p>Every first day of the week we did no work, but went with our wives and other people
-to hear the teaching. Before this time I knew but very little of it: I knew that it
-was about one Jesus, but who or what He was, or why they talked so much about Him
-I could not understand. Now I began to learn that He was the Son of God, and came
-to earth for us. I heard about His birth, life and death, and how He died for us—instead
-of us—just as the peace-offering is killed in our country to save the whole village.
-We kill a slave; but God sent His Son, and Jesus came willingly <span class="pageNum" id="pb87">[<a href="#pb87">87</a>]</span>and gave His life for us. Truly, He must have loved us!
-</p>
-<p>After a time I joined the inquirers’ class, for I wanted to learn more about Him,
-and to belong to His company.
-</p>
-<p>The time passed very quickly, it seemed but a little until my book, which was for
-twelve moons, was finished. I received my payment—brass rods, cloth, salt, &amp;c.—and
-felt quite a rich man. Never had I possessed so much before; and I wanted to go to
-Ekaka and show off my riches. When my master asked what I purposed doing I said that
-I was tired and would like to go home for a while to rest.
-</p>
-<p>I went, and soon after that my master went to Europe for his rest also.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb88">[<a href="#pb88">88</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch7" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e307">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER VII</h2>
-<h2 class="main">Back to Slavery</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">My welcome at home—My respite and its end—The forest sentry—The little boy—My father’s
-appeal and its result—I intervene—The sentry’s revenge—A rubber slave once more—I
-appeal to the man of God—Disappointment—“Nothing but rubber till I die!”—The hopeless
-toil—The coming of the pestilence—The witch-doctor’s medicine—The desolation—But still
-the rubber!</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">I was well received by my people at Ekaka, and my father, now an old man, was proud
-to see me return with my riches.
-</p>
-<p>I also had a good welcome from the family of Bamatafe, for had I not brought brass
-rods, salt, knives, a blanket, and other things for which they craved? When a man
-is paid off at the end of a year’s work he always gets plenty of visitors, and is
-much praised by all his townspeople <span class="pageNum" id="pb89">[<a href="#pb89">89</a>]</span>as long as his riches last. After that they seem to lose interest in him, and do not
-care for him any longer.
-</p>
-<p>But at first, as I said, I had a good time. My father was immensely pleased with a
-present of a red blanket; the father of Bamatafe received a knife and some brass rods,
-which my father had smelted for him into anklets; the salt was used for feasts and
-presents, and it was but a few days before we found that we had nothing left of all
-my wages!
-</p>
-<p>Now, thought I, I would rest. A little fishing, a little hunting, a good deal of lying
-down in the big palaver house, and very much talking and telling of news—in fact,
-a good time generally—and then one day came the end of it.
-</p>
-<p>On that day, I cannot forget it, a big bully of a sentry, armed with a gun and chicotte,
-came into Ekaka to see about sending the rubber men off to the bush. As he passed
-my father’s place he began to grumble to the old man about many things—he did not
-provide a sufficient number of rubber workers; he did not give enough honour to the
-sentries placed in his village; one of the rubber men had died, fallen from the vine
-he was cutting high up in the top of a tree, and been picked up dead, and my father
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb90">[<a href="#pb90">90</a>]</span>had not brought any one forward to take his place on the white man’s list.
-</p>
-<p>This sentry proceeded to seize a little boy of about twelve years of age, a nephew
-of the deceased man, and ordered him to get rubber. My father ventured to plead for
-him, representing that he was too young, and not strong enough for the work.
-</p>
-<p>He was answered by curses, insults were heaped upon him, then the bully took his own
-knife from him and actually cut off his long beard, of which he and all his family
-were so proud; and finally he struck the old man on the chest with the butt-end of
-his gun, felling him to the ground.
-</p>
-<p>I had kept quietly in the hut, but this was too much. I sprang up and rushed to my
-father’s aid, and that was my undoing. The sentry took his revenge for my interference
-by informing the white man that I was sitting down at home doing nothing, and ought
-I not to be sent out to work rubber?
-</p>
-<p>The white man called me, and gave me a book for rubber. In vain I told him that I
-was only resting in town for a little while, and intended to return to my work for
-the white men of God; my name was put on the list, and <span class="pageNum" id="pb91">[<a href="#pb91">91</a>]</span>once more I was obliged to seek for rubber. The conditions were much the same as before,
-but we were obliged to go further away than ever to find the rubber vines, as they
-were getting so scarce.
-</p>
-<p>After some months of this work, which we all hate, I heard the news that my white
-man had returned to our country.
-</p>
-<p>“Now,” thought I, “all will be well. I will go and plead with him, and beg him to
-redeem me from this slavery, and then I will work for him again.”
-</p>
-<p>So when I took my next lot of rubber in to the white man, after receiving my three
-spoonfuls of salt in return for my basket of rubber balls, I went on to see the other
-white men.
-</p>
-<p>It was true, the white man for whom I had worked had arrived while we were in the
-forest, and was just settled down to work again. When he and his wife saw me they
-gave me a hearty welcome, evidently thinking that I, like so many others, had just
-called to welcome them back to our land. He knew nothing of what had taken place in
-his absence.
-</p>
-<p>I told him all my story, everything that had happened to me and mine while he was
-in <span class="pageNum" id="pb92">[<a href="#pb92">92</a>]</span>Europe; and asked him, now that he had returned, to redeem me from my slavery, and
-let me come back and work for him again.
-</p>
-<p>But new white men had come and new rules had been made since his departure from our
-land, and again it was not permissible for a man holding a rubber book to take service
-with any one. All my hopes were dashed to the ground; but still I pleaded with him
-with all the fluency of which I was capable—he had done it before, and if then, why
-not now? We can understand white men making rules for black, but how can they interfere
-with each other? I thought that, if I only kept at it long enough, I should surely
-win.
-</p>
-<p>But at last I was convinced of the truth of the statement, and I wept. Yes, strong
-man as I was, I wept; for anger and sorrow were in my heart, and I turned to the white
-man as I stood there on the grass outside his house.
-</p>
-<p>“White man,” said I, “if this is true, there is no hope for me. It will be nothing
-but rubber until I die, and rubber is death. Dig a grave here, and bury me now! I
-may as well be buried in my grave as go on working rubber.” And I meant it.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb93">[<a href="#pb93">93</a>]</span></p>
-<p>But back to rubber I had to go, with no hope of ever doing anything else; back into
-a slavery which would last until death, and from which there is no escape. For if
-you run away from one district, you only reach another, and another white man as eager
-for rubber as the one you left. Then he will make you work for him, if he does nothing
-worse; he may send you back, and then—chicotte, prison, and more rubber!
-</p>
-<p>So I and my people went on day after day, and month after month, with little pay (what
-we did receive was only a mockery of the word), no comfort, no home life, constant
-anxiety as to our wives and daughters in the villages, and nothing to look forward
-to for our sons but that they must follow in our steps, and of necessity become rubber
-workers as soon as, or even before, they were old enough to have sufficient strength
-for the work.
-</p>
-<p>White men, do you wonder that the words, “<i lang="bnt">Botofe bo lē iwa</i>” (“Rubber is death”) passed into a proverb amongst us, and that we hated the very
-name of rubber with a deadly hatred? The only ones who were kind to us in those days
-were the white men of God. They visited our villages frequently to teach us and our
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb94">[<a href="#pb94">94</a>]</span>families, and sometimes on their journeys they would meet with us in the forest, and
-stop for awhile to talk to us.
-</p>
-<p>“Come,” they said; “listen to the words of God, the news of salvation.”
-</p>
-<p>We came, and they told us the same story of Jesus and salvation from sin; it is a
-good story, and we liked to hear it. But we would say, “White man, you bring us news
-of salvation from sin; when will you bring us news of salvation from rubber? If you
-brought that, then we should have time to listen to and think about your other news.”
-</p>
-<p>Then came a time of awful pestilence, so terrible that we do not understand or even
-mention it, lest we ourselves be smitten like others. When we speak of it we call
-it the “sickness from above” or the “sickness of heaven”; but the white men, who are
-not afraid to mention it, call it smallpox.
-</p>
-<p>It raged in all our villages, and spread from hut to hut like a fire. We took our
-sick ones into the forest, and a few people who had recovered from the disease many
-years before went to look after them. Crowds of people died, and though some recovered,
-they were very weak and ill after it.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb95">[<a href="#pb95">95</a>]</span></p>
-<p>The white men of God put some medicine into the arms of many of our people. It was
-cut in with a needle, but we did not understand it, and most of us refused to have
-it done, as we thought it would hurt. But we noticed that many of those who did take
-the medicine did not get the sickness, or at least only slightly.
-</p>
-<p>In the midst of it all one of our own witch-doctors arose and announced that a cure
-had been revealed to him, and as he himself was immune from the disease, he would
-come and put his medicine on all who were prepared to pay his fee. He made an itineration
-through all the villages with much singing, dancing, and shaking of rattles, and in
-each village he took up a stand to administer his medicine to all who would pay.
-</p>
-<p>The sick people were brought out of the bush, the suspected cases from the huts, and
-the strong ones in the villages came also, and all were anointed with the medicine
-on payment of a brass rod. Such crowds there were; very few refused, I think only
-the children of God, and they did it in spite of much opposition. Their relatives
-tried to persuade them to take it, but when the witch-doctor heard of and asked the
-reason of their refusal, and was told that it was <span class="pageNum" id="pb96">[<a href="#pb96">96</a>]</span>because they were children of God, he said, “Leave them alone; if that is the palaver,
-it is of no use to persuade them; they will never give in.”
-</p>
-<p>But, strange to say, the sickness was worse than ever after this episode, until the
-people got tired of trying to isolate the cases and just left them in the villages.
-Crowds of people still died at this time, and many of the corpses were left unburied,
-until at last we began to think that we should all be finished off by the sickness,
-which lasted many moons, perhaps sixteen or eighteen.
-</p>
-<p>When at last the sickness did cease, the villages were half empty, whole families
-had been swept away, and the few who were left were so weak that most of the work
-in the villages had to be left undone. Then many more died of the hunger and after-effects,
-because they were unable to work to get food, and had no friends left to help them.
-</p>
-<p>But one thing had to go on without cessation all the time, and that was rubber collecting.
-It must have varied in quantity, but the supply was never allowed to stop during all
-that dreadful time.
-</p>
-<p>When our wives and children or mothers and <span class="pageNum" id="pb97">[<a href="#pb97">97</a>]</span>fathers were sick and we knew not what the end of the sickness would be, we still
-had to leave them with others, or even alone, and go into the forest on another errand—that
-of rubber collecting! Many a relative died in those days without our ever knowing
-of their illness; but we were rubber men. Were we not also slaves, having no choice
-but to go, even though the rubber sap seemed to us sometimes like drops of our blood?
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb98">[<a href="#pb98">98</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch8" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e317">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER VIII</h2>
-<h2 class="main">Other Changes. Hope Deferred</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">A change of labour—We become hunters—A new demand—And new difficulties—Failure—The
-sentry’s demand—The old men’s plea—Murder—We tell the men of God—And complain to the
-rubber man—The white chief—The things written in a book—And no remedy comes—Hunting
-again—The English visitor—The white woman—Results of making complaints—The sentries’
-threats—The one way of escape—“Better to be with the hunters than the hunted”—Another
-sorrow—The sleeping-sickness—“Just a little while, and they die”—We cry to the white
-people.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">As I was telling you before, many of our people died of the “sickness from above,”
-including a number of the young men who worked rubber. Of necessity the supply of
-rubber became very small when there were so few to collect it in the forest.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb99">[<a href="#pb99">99</a>]</span></p>
-<p>After the sickness was finished, and the white men found that it was really true that
-so many of our people were dead, and that others were still sick and unfit for work,
-they called us young men of Ekaka together and told us some very good news. It was
-this. That they had decided that we should make no more rubber, but be freed entirely
-from that work on condition that we men would hunt antelopes for the white man’s table,
-and bring smoked meat for his workmen’s rations, and that our women would supply <i lang="bnt">tökö</i> (manioca cooked ready for eating) at stated intervals.
-</p>
-<p>We agreed with much joy, and all the way home that day we were singing and shouting,
-so as to let every one know of our good fortune. We went also to tell the white men
-of God our news; they were glad to hear about it, and gave us much good advice as
-to keeping up a regular supply of food, and not bringing palavers upon ourselves by
-failing to do our part. We heartily assented to all they said, for we were ready to
-do anything if only we might be freed from rubber work.
-</p>
-<p>The hunting was started at once, and we kept up the supply of one or two antelopes
-weekly, and smoked rations for a long time; but by and <span class="pageNum" id="pb100">[<a href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>by a new white man came to us from up-country and he made new rules for us.
-</p>
-<p>An order was given that we must procure four living antelopes every week, and in order
-to do this all of us who were strong enough to hunt had to be in the forest almost
-all the time, just sending in the antelopes as we caught them.
-</p>
-<p>It was not so bad in dry weather—then we were used to go on long hunts in the old
-days of freedom—but now it was all the year round, wet season as well as dry, night
-and day; for antelopes began to get scarce as the rubber had done, and we had to penetrate
-a long way into the forest in order to get them. We found to our cost that hunting
-was not play under such circumstances; but even so, it was better than rubber, and
-we tried to fulfil the white man’s requirements.
-</p>
-<p>But one day—the day for taking an antelope to the white man—we failed to procure one
-in time for the usual morning visit, when we were in the habit of sending it in.
-</p>
-<p>I suppose the white man became impatient and dispatched a sentry—a native of our country
-who was known to us all as a fool—armed with a gun and cartridges, to inquire why
-the animal had not been sent in.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb101">[<a href="#pb101">101</a>]</span></p>
-<p>When this sentry, Kebocu, arrived in our village, he found it almost deserted. Only
-one or two old men and a few women were there; but, my father not being present, his
-friend, Bomoya, went out to meet the white man’s messenger and inquire what he wanted.
-Bomoya was closely followed by Isekasofa, another old friend and associate of my father’s.
-</p>
-<p>They exchanged greetings with Kebocu and asked his business.
-</p>
-<p>“Where is the antelope for the white man’s soup?” he asked.
-</p>
-<p>They explained that we had failed to catch any on the day previous, and that they
-were expecting our arrival at any time, and then the animal would be dispatched immediately.
-</p>
-<p>His answer was to raise and load his gun, an action not understood by the old men,
-who simply stood still waiting. Calling to a woman who was crossing the road to get
-out of the way, he fired. The shot passed through Bomoya’s thigh, disabling him; but
-old Isekasofa, stooping down to hide behind his friend, received the bullet in his
-breast, and dropped dead on the spot.
-</p>
-<p>Just as the deed was done, we all rushed into the village with our antelopes, proving
-the truth <span class="pageNum" id="pb102">[<a href="#pb102">102</a>]</span>of what the old men had said. We heard all about the shooting from the woman who had
-seen it all, and whose husband was a workman of the white men of God. Kebocu himself
-ran away when he saw us all come into the village.
-</p>
-<p>Basofa, the son of Isekasofa, and another man picked up the corpse, put it on a bier
-of forest poles, and set off with many others of us to tell our sorrowful story to
-the white man of God.
-</p>
-<p>We arrived first at the school-house where Mama, the white woman, was teaching the
-children; when she saw us and our burden she was much grieved, for Isekasofa was a
-friend of the white people and had visited them only a few days previously. We went
-on to the dwelling-house, and told our story to the two white men of God, who sympathised
-with us in our sorrow, and wrote a letter to the white man of rubber about the outrage.
-</p>
-<p>We went on to the rubber compound, and waited there a long time, because the white
-man had gone to the river. He kept us so long waiting to show him the corpse of Isekasofa
-(he knew why we were there, for messengers had been sent to tell him) that, sitting
-there in the heat of the midday sun, we became very angry, and some of our people
-even set out to attack <span class="pageNum" id="pb103">[<a href="#pb103">103</a>]</span>the village of which Kebocu, the sentry, was a native.
-</p>
-<p>At last the white man came and listened to our story, but he seemed so strange that
-we thought—of course we did not know—that he had been drinking the strong palm-wine
-of Europe which makes people dizzy in their heads. Once a white man gave some to one
-of our people, and he was quite foolish after it.
-</p>
-<p>We were persuaded not to attack Kebocu’s village, as the white man would see that
-he was punished; and we went back to our own place to weep for and bury our dead,
-and attend to the wounded man.
-</p>
-<p>It was but a few days after this episode that a great chief called a judge came from
-down-country to make inquiries about our part, and hear palavers.
-</p>
-<p>This was the first time a white man had come on such an errand, and numbers of our
-people gathered at the house of the white man of God and told our troubles to the
-chief. He listened and questioned us, and made inquiries of other people who had seen
-the things we brought forward, and another white man wrote many, many words in a book.
-That book, they said, would go down-country <span class="pageNum" id="pb104">[<a href="#pb104">104</a>]</span>to another great chief, and then everything would be settled satisfactorily.
-</p>
-<p>As Kebocu had not been punished or even arrested for causing the death of Isekasofa,
-that affair was also talked about, and Bomoya was carried in from his home that the
-white man might see for himself the truth of our statements. His wound was in a terrible
-condition, and was turning green inside. All this was also written in the book.
-</p>
-<p>The book was sent down-country; the white men both went their way; and we never heard
-any more. Kebocu was never punished, but lived in his own village a free man. Bomoya
-recovered, because the white men of God made medicine for his wounds, but he was always
-lame.
-</p>
-<p>It made us very angry when, some time after his partial recovery, he was imprisoned
-for some weeks—because he was found in his village, and not out in the forest hunting
-antelopes for the white man’s soup! Just as if a lame man would be of any use in a
-hunt with nets and spears!
-</p>
-<p>We continued our hunting week after week, not only to supply the white man’s table,
-but also to provide rations (either of meat <span class="pageNum" id="pb105">[<a href="#pb105">105</a>]</span>or fish) for his sentries and workmen, and our women had to provide manioca for the
-same reason.
-</p>
-<p>It meant much work for us all; not only work, but constant exposure to the cold and
-damp of the forest. It was worse in the wet season, when many of our people contracted
-a sickness of the chest which is most painful and often ends in death. In fact, the
-providing of food was getting to be almost as great a tax upon us as the rubber had
-been. And we thought, “If the rubber work never ends, the food work will not; they
-will never give up calling for food!”
-</p>
-<p>We had no comfort at home, for we were rarely there. We had nothing to look forward
-to in the future but work—either rubber or food—so we gave up hoping; our hearts were
-broken; we were as people half dead!
-</p>
-<p>Two or three times white people came again to ask about our affairs. One was a very
-tall Englishman with a wonderful dog such as we had never seen before. He was very
-kind to us, made many inquiries about our treatment, and gave us presents before he
-left. We asked him to come back to us again, but he never did. We were told that he
-was talking about our troubles <span class="pageNum" id="pb106">[<a href="#pb106">106</a>]</span>and writing them in a book in England, but that is all we know about him.
-</p>
-<p>Another who came was a white woman. She stayed for a little while at the rubber place,
-and used to ask us many questions and talked much to us and to the white men. But
-we could never really understand about her; why should a woman come to see about palavers—how
-could <i>she</i> settle them? She soon went away, and we did not think any more about her.
-</p>
-<p>Others came at intervals—great chiefs from down-river, I suppose they were—to some
-of whom we told our grievances; but we soon found that the rubber white men did not
-like us to do so, and sometimes we were punished or even imprisoned after the departure
-of the white men to whom we had made reports. So you will not be surprised when I
-tell you that we got to hide our troubles, and did not tell even when an opportunity
-presented itself.
-</p>
-<p>Many times we have been asked by other white men of God who have come on visits, “Why
-do you not tell these bad doings of which we hear? Why do you not report to the white
-chiefs?” It was like this: we were afraid to tell—afraid of the consequences to ourselves
-afterwards; we had been threatened <span class="pageNum" id="pb107">[<a href="#pb107">107</a>]</span>with such dreadful things by the sentries if we dared to speak of their doings.
-</p>
-<p>I do not wonder that they did not want their doings talked about, for I have not told
-you one-tenth of the bad things they did, and the worst of the things cannot be even
-mentioned. And then, so many promises which had been made to us by white men had been
-broken, of what use was it to get more promises from them? They would only be broken
-like the rest, we thought, and so we gave up, and when the white men tried to find
-out things we even ran away and hid, rather than tell them, and so bring greater trouble
-on ourselves and our families.
-</p>
-<p>There was just one way out of our slavery, and some of our young men availed themselves
-of it. It was to become a sentry oneself. Only a few had the opportunity, and those
-who took it soon became as bad as the other sentries with whom they came in contact.
-They found that the only way to please the white man was to get plenty of rubber;
-and in order to do that they were obliged to use the same means as the others and
-become cruel oppressors of their own people.
-</p>
-<p>When they were remonstrated with they would say, “It is better to be with the hunters
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb108">[<a href="#pb108">108</a>]</span>than with the hunted. We have the chance to join the hunters: what more?” I never
-had the chance myself; perhaps if I had I might have done the same; for if you compare
-our lives with the lives of the sentries, I do not think that even a white man can
-wonder that some of us chose the easy way.
-</p>
-<hr class="tb"><p>
-</p>
-<p>There is one thing of which I have not yet told you; we think it is one of the worst
-of all our trials. We scarcely know about the beginning of it, but it seems to have
-been soon after the end of the “sickness of heaven” that this other sickness began
-to come amongst us. We call it “<i lang="bnt">nkangi ea iló</i>” (“sickness of sleep”), and many refer to it as “this desolation,” “<i lang="bnt">losilo lóne</i>.”
-</p>
-<p>Both names describe it. When a person has the disease, he gradually gets more and
-more languid until at last he sleeps all the time, and the disease destroys him. We
-have no hope for the future on account of this disease, as well as our other troubles;
-no one ever recovers, but generally the whole family take it, and die one after the
-other, until whole villages are almost wiped out.
-</p>
-<p>At first only a few people had it; and though <span class="pageNum" id="pb109">[<a href="#pb109">109</a>]</span>we did not understand it, we thought that, like other sicknesses, it would be cured.
-But in a very few years it has spread from house to house and village to village,
-away into the back towns and far up-river; it seems as if it had no ending!
-</p>
-<p>Numbers of people who are weak and sickly contract it, and many more who are exposed
-to all weathers rubber seeking, hunting, or fishing, and who come back home with some
-simple malady, get the sleep sickness as well, and then—just a little while—and they
-die!
-</p>
-<p>Some of the largest and best populated villages are now reduced to a few huts, the
-majority of which are inhabited by sick folk. Men and women of all ages and little
-children all alike take the disease, and all alike die.
-</p>
-<p>In the old days, if a person died in one hut, a child was born in another to take
-his place and name; but now—every day the death wail is heard, every day funerals
-are taking place—but it is a rare event for a child to be born. You see just one baby
-here, and another there, and that is all! And therefore we have come to say, “We shall
-all be finished soon, all get the disease, none recover. If we are to have it, we
-shall have it: what more?”
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb110">[<a href="#pb110">110</a>]</span></p>
-<p>Perhaps you think we should take medicine for this sickness, but we can find none
-of any use. The white men of God have tried many kinds of medicine: medicine to drink,
-and also the kind which they put into one’s arm with a needle; but these only did
-good for a little while, and then the sickness was as bad as ever. Our own people
-have tried their own medicines, our witch-doctors also have tried to cure it by means
-of their fetishes; but all alike are useless. We often ask the white men if their
-doctors have found the medicine; but we always get the same answer, “No, not yet.”
-We wonder that the white men with all their wisdom have not found it: if they have
-not, who can?
-</p>
-<p>The white men of God are continually teaching us that in view of all this sickness,
-now is the time for us to settle the palaver between us and God by believing in His
-Son Jesus, so as to be ready if death comes to us. And then our witch-doctors step
-in and say, “Is not this closing of the eyes in prayer, which these white men have
-taught our people, the cause of the sickness of sleep?”
-</p>
-<p>What can we do? We go and hear the teaching, and it is good: we agree to it. Then
-we hear what the witch-doctors say, and for <span class="pageNum" id="pb111">[<a href="#pb111">111</a>]</span>a while we absent ourselves. And all the time the sickness goes on and increases.
-O white people, will you not pray to your God for the medicine? will you not try and
-send it to us soon, that this desolation may be ended, and some of us be saved alive?
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb112">[<a href="#pb112">112</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch9" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e327">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER IX</h2>
-<h2 class="main">The Elders of Europe</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">More white men from Europe—Fears and curiosity—The white men inquire about us—We tell
-them of our state—And our oppressors—The knotted strings and their story—“These things
-are bad”—The white men’s promises—Better times—Soon ended—Rubber again—The old toil—The
-men of the river—The demands on the villages—The chiefs in power—Chiefs and the sentries—The
-death wail and the white man—“We are very poor.”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">One Saturday evening a big steamer came to the white man’s beach, and soon after the
-news spread throughout our villages that a lot of white men from Europe—old men with
-grey hair—had come to see and judge of our condition for themselves, and to listen
-to what we had to tell them.
-</p>
-<p>Some of us were afraid to go near them; we had not had a good experience of white
-men in the past, and we kept away. But others were <span class="pageNum" id="pb113">[<a href="#pb113">113</a>]</span>curious to see the elders of Europe, and so they went to take a look at them from
-a distance, and then came back and reported to us who stayed at home. There were,
-said they, three strange white men, said to be settlers of palavers, two of whom were
-in truth old, grey-headed men; one other was a medicine-man. These were accompanied
-by the great rubber chief, as well as the white men who worked the steamer. They had
-also heard that we were all invited to go to the steamer on the next day and state
-our grievances.
-</p>
-<p>Then while we were still talking about it, the white men of God sent to advise us
-not to hide anything, but to come and tell these white men all the palavers we could
-remember, giving names, and bringing eye-witnesses whenever we could. They also said
-that these white men had promised that we should be protected, and that no harm should
-come to us as the result of our making our grievances known.
-</p>
-<p>This reassured us, and we thought that as these white men were not boys but old and
-white-haired, they were worthy of respect, and their word should be true. Therefore
-we gathered together, we and our chiefs, and we told them many, many things—things
-which <span class="pageNum" id="pb114">[<a href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>grieved and surprised and made them very angry.
-</p>
-<p>We told them how we had to make rubber when the vines were practically finished in
-our district; how we had to get animals all the year round and in all weathers, and
-fish, no matter what the state of the river might be; how our wives could scarcely
-prepare manioca for our own families because of the constant demands of the white
-men and his sentries. Then, gaining courage, we went on to tell of the treatment which
-we received from the sentries in our villages, of their cruelties and oppression,
-their murders and thefts, their wicked treatment of our wives and daughters, and many
-other abuses which I cannot tell you of.
-</p>
-<p>Many chiefs came from far distant villages and districts, bringing with them long
-knotted strings or bundles of twigs, each knot or twig representing a person killed
-or a woman stolen.
-</p>
-<p>Everything we told was written down, and the white men of God told many things, and
-these also were written down. This went on for two or three days, until at last the
-old white chief said, “Have you anything more to tell?”
-</p>
-<p>“Oh, yes,” we said, “many things, white <span class="pageNum" id="pb115">[<a href="#pb115">115</a>]</span>man; we can go on like this for three more days, if you want to hear all.”
-</p>
-<p>Said he, “We have heard sufficient; we know that these things are bad, why should
-we hear more?”
-</p>
-<p>We were given twenty brass rods each, and told that no one would molest us, and that
-soon these bad things would be ended, as the palaver would be settled in Europe.
-</p>
-<p>So we went home, and waited. We did not expect much, for we had been told the same
-thing before, and we had given up hoping long ago.
-</p>
-<p>But after long time of waiting changes did come once more. Bokakala’s white men of
-rubber did not come to us any more, but Bula Matadi (the State) himself came and said
-that now he would send his own white men to us, and that they were good; and there
-would be no more bad doings in our villages; as they would recall all the sentries
-and not send any more out to live with us, and oppress and ill-treat us and our families.
-</p>
-<p>And Bula Matadi really came, and since then we have had better times than before.
-Having no sentries in our villages, but only our own headmen, makes it much better
-for us, and far <span class="pageNum" id="pb116">[<a href="#pb116">116</a>]</span>safer for our wives and families who are left at home when we are away in the forest.
-</p>
-<p>For a little while there was no rubber work; we cut posts and bamboos for building,
-and firewood for steamers, and there was always the food tax which pressed hard on
-men and women alike. It always has been a heavy task to supply that, and is still—just
-as much food is needed, and we are so few, so very few to keep up the quantity.
-</p>
-<p>However, we congratulated ourselves on not having rubber to work, when lo! Bula Matadi
-himself suddenly ordered us to begin working rubber again!
-</p>
-<p>It seems that there is no way of pleasing a white man except by providing him with
-rubber. I do not mean the white men of God—they are different. But the others, whether
-they belong to Bokakala or Bula Matadi, whether they live up-country or down, or away
-on the big river, they are all alike in feeling a hunger for rubber.
-</p>
-<p>So now we are away in the forest for two months, and in our homes for one. The two
-months are spent in collecting rubber, and making it into long strips to take to the
-white man. Each man has to make six <span class="pageNum" id="pb117">[<a href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>strips for each month, and take them to the white man once in three months—eighteen
-strips at a time. Then we get a piece of cloth or a shirt or a plate as payment if
-the rubber is good and the quantity sufficient; if it is not, then we get very little
-or no payment, and if the shortage is of frequent occurrence, it may be prison.
-</p>
-<p>We are better off in having a longer time for getting the rubber; but we have long
-distances to go in order to reach any vines, and then we have to cut them down and
-sometimes dig up the roots in order to get sufficient of the sap.
-</p>
-<p>And we have more comfort, because, going for a longer time, we make better shelters,
-and take our hunting-nets and spears with us, and so succeed in getting some fresh
-animal food. If several of us are in the same part of the forest, it is easy to set
-up our nets round a herd of wild pigs or some antelopes. Some go in and beat the bush,
-others wait outside the nets with poised spears, and it is not long before we have
-some animal for our evening meal.
-</p>
-<p>The people who live on the river bank, and have to be always providing wood for passing
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb118">[<a href="#pb118">118</a>]</span>steamers, or fish and manioca for rations for Bula Matadi’s soldiers and workmen,
-and fresh meat for his own table, are really worse off in some ways than we who are
-now on rubber work, because they must take their portion every seven or fifteen days,
-and if they fail to do so they are imprisoned.
-</p>
-<p>Then demands are made of some villages to supply fowls and eggs at odd times and in
-varying quantities. We wonder sometimes what the white men do with so many eggs; they
-seem to be always wanting them. One of our people who has frequently to supply eggs
-says that he thinks the white men must be under the impression that we black men lay
-eggs the same as fowls do, for they are always calling for them, whether or not the
-fowls are laying!
-</p>
-<p>Now that there are no sentries in our villages the chiefs of the people are expected
-by the white men to exercise more authority. But during the years of the sentries’
-rule the chiefs were divested of every bit of authority, and systematically degraded
-in the sight of their people. So bad did it become that a chief spent a great part
-of his time in the chain, or in the bush hiding from the sentries.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb119">[<a href="#pb119">119</a>]</span></p>
-<p>Naturally the children and young people lost their respect for the chiefs, and many
-an old man whose word a few years ago was law has found, to his shame and chagrin,
-that he is considered as of no importance and his word as valueless.
-</p>
-<p>Sometimes the old men get into trouble for things that are not really their fault.
-</p>
-<p>For instance, a little while ago some one died in a village near the white man’s compound,
-and, as usual, the people commenced wailing. From evening until far into the night
-the death wail rang out, and the sound disturbed the white man’s rest. On the next
-day the chief was arrested and put in prison for not having stopped the noises—and
-he remained there for three days and nights. He is absolutely dispossessed of his
-power, no one thinks of obeying him; and yet he is punished for the inevitable outcome
-of the rule of the sentries in our villages.
-</p>
-<p>It was much easier to kill the authority of the chiefs than it is to give it back
-to them. Of course, there is one great chief, who wears a medal, and is in constant
-intercourse with the white men of Bula Matadi. He has plenty of authority—we think
-too much—and he uses it largely in getting a great crowd of wives and <span class="pageNum" id="pb120">[<a href="#pb120">120</a>]</span>making it difficult for the young men to get any. Being rich, he can pay enormous
-prices for women, and demand the same. That is one of our grievances at the present
-time.
-</p>
-<p>It is our custom to pay for our wives to their fathers and guardians, and the present
-high prices and scarcity of brass rods are making it almost impossible for a young
-man to get a wife, and this leads to other bad palavers.
-</p>
-<p>We are very poor—poorer than ever, because the prices of food and other things are
-higher than before, and yet those who provide the food tax do not receive any more
-for what they supply. Nowadays our women have no heavy brass anklets, gaiters, or
-neck ornaments; we are often glad to sell the knives, which were our pride in the
-old days, for rods with which to settle our palavers.
-</p>
-<p>So, although we are better off in some ways since the changes came, we still have
-our troubles. We are but few and weak, and those who are stronger than we still oppress
-and tread us down. We are still slaves, and even if our slavery is a little less hard
-than of old, it is still slavery and still irksome to us and our children.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb121">[<a href="#pb121">121</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div id="ch10" class="div1 chapter"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#xd31e339">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divHead">
-<h2 class="label">CHAPTER X</h2>
-<h2 class="main">Things We Want to Know</h2>
-<div class="argument">
-<p class="first">My story is finished—The past and the present—Why are these things so?—The old days—Now
-we are white men’s slaves—How long will it last?—We are dying—Our only rest is death—How
-long, how long?</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="divBody">
-<p class="first">White men of Europe, my story is finished. I have told you about the past, and the
-two kinds of slavery in which we have been bound; I have told you about the present,
-our constant work, the difficulty in which our chiefs find themselves placed, our
-inability to marry because of our poverty, our sickness, the desolation which broods
-over our villages, the lack of children to take the places of those who die. I think
-I have told you sufficient to show you that we are in need of pity and help.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb122">[<a href="#pb122">122</a>]</span></p>
-<p>I want to ask you, white people of Europe, two questions. The first is, “<i>Why are these things so?</i>”
-</p>
-<p>Long ago, our fathers tell us and some of us can remember, there were no white people
-in our land; we lived alone and happily in our own way. True, there were feuds and
-fights, quarrels and bloodshed, and a kind of slavery, but the country was ours, the
-forest was ours in which to hunt, the river was ours in which to fish, the fruits
-of the forest and the produce of our gardens were ours to appease our hunger. We did
-not know anything about white men, nor did we wish to.
-</p>
-<p>And then—suddenly they came in their steamers and settled amongst us. And gradually
-we learnt that these white men, who came to us uninvited, are our masters—we, our
-families, our forests, the produce of our gardens, the spoil of our hunting and fishing—all
-belong to them. And we cannot understand why it should be so.
-</p>
-<p>Once more, we have to work for the white man all the time. Now, when the work is lighter
-than ever, we are in the forest two out of every three months. We must get a certain
-quantity of rubber, or there is prison for us, and, <span class="pageNum" id="pb123">[<a href="#pb123">123</a>]</span>when we come out of prison, more rubber must be made in place of what was short before
-we can make a start on the next three-monthly portion.
-</p>
-<p>Those of us who are taking food are out on the river fishing from the first to the
-fifth working day, and we take in the food on the sixth. If we hunt, we must be continually
-going to the forest, which is not any better. The food-tax men are worse off than
-the rubber men at present. For all this constant work we receive very little pay,
-and, if we complain, we are told that all this work is “<i lang="bnt">wuta</i>” (“tax”). We knew about “<i lang="bnt">wuta</i>” long ago before the white men came, but our “<i lang="bnt">wuta</i>” was to pass over a part of what we had in consideration of some benefit received,
-or the use of some implement, or in order to be freed from some obligation, but we
-never understood it to mean all that we had or anything which would take all our time.
-Now, everything else has to be let go in order to get “<i lang="bnt">wuta</i>” for Bula Matadi, and I would ask you white men, <i>Why is it so?</i>
-</p>
-<p>I have only one more question to ask you. It is this, <i>For how long will it last?</i>
-</p>
-<p>We were young men when it commenced, now we are middle-aged, and we seem no nearer
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb124">[<a href="#pb124">124</a>]</span>to the end of it than we were at first. Still there is the demand for rubber, rubber,
-rubber!
-</p>
-<p>Many of our people have died from exposure to cold and heat, or from lack of comfort;
-many others from accidents, such as falling from the rubber vines, and many more from
-the pestilences of which I have told you.
-</p>
-<p>White men, I tell you the truth: we are dying, soon our villages will be put out as
-a fire that is quenched.
-</p>
-<p>And still we are working, still we are slaves to the white men.
-</p>
-<p>And we have nothing to look forward to, as far as we can see, except constant work—and
-death. We have heard that when a man reaches what the white men call forty years of
-age his tax palaver is finished; but that time must be in very old age, for no one
-ever seems to become old enough to leave off work. No, the only rest we can look forward
-to is death!
-</p>
-<p>The white men of God are still with us, and they still tell us the news of salvation
-from sin. That is good news.
-</p>
-<p>But again I say that what we want to hear is the news of salvation from rubber. How
-long <span class="pageNum" id="pb125">[<a href="#pb125">125</a>]</span>before we shall hear that news? How long a time must pass before this “<i lang="bnt">wuta</i>” business is finished? How long shall we wait before we get a little rest—apart from
-death?
-</p>
-<p class="trailer xd31e1317"><span class="sc">The End.</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="back">
-<div class="div1 imprint"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first xd31e1322">UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb127">[<a href="#pb127">127</a>]</span></p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="div1 advertisement"><span class="pageNum">[<a href="#toc">Contents</a>]</span><div class="divBody">
-<p class="first adTitle">JAMES CHALMERS
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">His Autobiography and Letters.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">By the late RICHARD LOVETT, M.A., Author of “James Gilmour of Mongolia,” etc.
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">Seventh Impression. With 2 Maps and 8 Portrait Illustrations, 511 pages. Large crown
-8vo, cloth gilt, 3s. 6d. In padded paste grain, round corners, gilt edges, 6s. 6d.
-net.
-</p>
-<p>“Altogether no brighter or more skilful narrative of missionary life—from the subjective
-as well as from the objective point of view—has ever been published than this.”—<i>The Spectator.</i>
-</p>
-<p>“It is the best missionary biography that has appeared during the last twenty years.
-It is a book that will live and take rank as a missionary classic. It is full of thrills,
-tremulous with pathos, glowing in its passion, and sublime in its tragic ending. A
-book to be read and re-read when the enthusiasm of humanity wanes, and we are tempted
-to let fireside heroics take the place of action.”—<i>The Daily News.</i>
-</p>
-<p class="adTitle">GRIFFITH JOHN
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">The Story of Fifty Years in China.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">By R. WARDLAW THOMPSON, D.D. <br>(Foreign Secretary of the London Missionary Society).
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">Fifth Impression. With Two Maps and Sixteen other full-page Illustrations. Demy 8vo,
-cloth gilt, 568 pages, 3s. 6d.
-</p>
-<p>“No one can read this story without being inwardly refreshed. The mere adventure side
-of it is stirring to a degree. It reveals a Pauline daring and endurance.”—<i>Christian World.</i>
-</p>
-<p>“The story of Dr. John’s life is a very fascinating one, and it is told by Dr. Wardlaw
-Thompson with much literary skill, and excellent taste and judgment.”—<i>The Westminster Gazette.</i>
-</p>
-<p class="adTitle">W. HOLMAN BENTLEY
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">The Life and Labours of a Congo Pioneer.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">By his Widow, H.&nbsp;M. BENTLEY.
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">With a Photogravure Portrait, Map, and 19 other Illustrations, 466 pages, demy 8vo,
-cloth gilt, 6s. net (by post, 6s. 5d.).
-</p>
-<p>“This highly interesting memoir forms a worthy tribute to the honourable life and
-devoted labours of a notable pioneer of Christianity in Darkest Africa, who gave twenty-seven
-years to missionary work upon the Congo.… The book forms an admirably interesting
-life-story of successful mission work.”—<i>The Standard.</i>
-</p>
-<p>“Important in itself as the record of a notable, heroic and consecrated life, important
-also in the influence which it is sure to have on scores of young men and women in
-our Churches.”—<i>The Baptist Times.</i>
-<span class="pageNum" id="pb128">[<a href="#pb128">128</a>]</span></p>
-<p class="adTitle">BISHOP HANNINGTON
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">And the Story of the Uganda Mission.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">Prepared by W. GRINTON BERRY, M.A.
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">With Map, Portrait, 3 Coloured and 4 other Illustrations, crown 8vo, cloth gilt, Coloured
-Medallion on Cover, 1s. 6d.
-</p>
-<p>The personality of Hannington was full of colour and vigour, and the story of his
-work, particularly of his adventures in East Africa, ending with his martyrdom on
-the shores of the Victoria Nyanza, is one of the most fascinating in missionary annals.
-Hannington was himself a picturesque writer, with a noteworthy gift of producing dashing
-and humorous descriptive sketches, and quite a third of the present volume consists
-of Hannington’s own narratives. This volume will serve to sustain and deepen the perennial
-interest in Uganda, where the Gospel has won some of its most glorious triumphs.
-</p>
-<p class="adTitle">ALFRED SAKER
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">The Pioneer of the Cameroons.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">By his Daughter, E.&nbsp;M. SAKER.
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">With Map, 3 Coloured and other Illustrations, Coloured Medallion on Cover, crown 8vo,
-cloth gilt, 1s. 6d.
-</p>
-<p>The Cameroons are a little known land, but they have been the scene of some of the
-most interesting work done by British missionaries on the West Coast of Africa. The
-land, like Sierra Leone, long justified the title of “The white man’s grave.” The
-people were savages, amongst whom it was not easy to work. The language was new, and
-Alfred Saker gave his life to this field. The story of his adventures and encouragements
-is singularly interesting.
-</p>
-<p class="adTitle">A DOCTOR AND HIS DOG IN UGANDA
-</p>
-<p class="adSubtitle">From Letters and Journals of A.&nbsp;R. Cook, M.D.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthorCredits">Medical Missionary of the Church Missionary Society.
-</p>
-<p class="adAuthor">Edited by Mrs. H.&nbsp;B. COOK.
-</p>
-<p class="adImprint">With a Preface by <span class="sc">Eugene Stock</span>. Second Impression. With Photograph, Map of Uganda, and 12 other Illustrations, crown
-8vo, cloth gilt, 2s.
-</p>
-<p>“With sincere pleasure I commend this little book. A great deal has been published
-from time to time on Uganda and the Uganda Mission, but this is the first book recounting
-the experiences of a Medical Missionary. To one who remembers the past history it
-is wonderful to read a book like the present.”—<i>Eugene Stock.</i>
-</p>
-<p>“This little book will be of interest to people other than those actively engaged
-in mission work, for the social and economic conditions of the country are by no means
-lost sight of.”—<i>Manchester Courier.</i>
-</p>
-<p>“We know of no other book which gives so vivid and realistic a picture of the daily
-life of the missionaries of Uganda.”—<i>Record.</i>
-</p>
-<p class="adFooter"><span class="sc">London</span>: THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY.
-</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div class="transcriberNote">
-<h2 class="main">Colophon</h2>
-<h3 class="main">Availability</h3>
-<p class="first">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project
-Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at <a class="seclink xd31e44" title="External link" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
-</p>
-<p>This eBook is produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="seclink xd31e44" title="External link" href="https://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</a>.
-</p>
-<p>Scans of this book are available from the Internet Archive (copy <a class="seclink xd31e44" title="External link" href="https://archive.org/details/bokwalastoryofco00cong">1</a>).
-</p>
-<h3 class="main">Metadata</h3>
-<table class="colophonMetadata" summary="Metadata">
-<tr>
-<td><b>Title:</b></td>
-<td>Bokwala: The Story of a Congo Victim</td>
-<td></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td><b>Author:</b></td>
-<td>A Congo Resident</td>
-<td></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td><b>Contributor:</b></td>
-<td>Henry Grattan Guinness (1835–1910)</td>
-<td><a href="https://viaf.org/viaf/33083174/" class="seclink">Info</a></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td><b>Language:</b></td>
-<td>English</td>
-<td></td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td><b>Original publication date:</b></td>
-<td>1910</td>
-<td></td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-<h3 class="main">Revision History</h3>
-<ul>
-<li>2022-02-09 Started.
-</li>
-</ul>
-<h3 class="main">External References</h3>
-<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These links may not work
-for you.</p>
-<h3 class="main">Corrections</h3>
-<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p>
-<table class="correctionTable" summary="Overview of corrections applied to the text.">
-<tr>
-<th>Page</th>
-<th>Source</th>
-<th>Correction</th>
-<th>Edit distance</th>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e430">24</a></td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">ust</td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">just</td>
-<td class="bottom">1</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e551">30</a></td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">
-[<i>Not in source</i>]
-</td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">.</td>
-<td class="bottom">1</td>
-</tr>
-<tr>
-<td class="width20"><a class="pageref" href="#xd31e871">68</a></td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">civit</td>
-<td class="width40 bottom">civet</td>
-<td class="bottom">1</td>
-</tr>
-</table>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOKWALA ***</div>
-<div style='text-align:left'>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Updated editions will replace the previous one&#8212;the old editions will
-be renamed.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG&#8482;
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following
-the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use
-of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for
-copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very
-easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation
-of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project
-Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away&#8212;you may
-do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected
-by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark
-license, especially commercial redistribution.
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br>
-<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br>
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span>
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-To protect the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221;), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person
-or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.B. &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (&#8220;the
-Foundation&#8221; or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg&#8482; mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg&#8482; work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country other than the United States.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work (any work
-on which the phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; appears, or with which the
-phrase &#8220;Project Gutenberg&#8221; is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-</div>
-
-<blockquote>
-  <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-    other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-    whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-    of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-    at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-    are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws
-    of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
-  </div>
-</blockquote>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase &#8220;Project
-Gutenberg&#8221; associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg&#8482; License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg&#8482;.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; License.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg&#8482; work in a format
-other than &#8220;Plain Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg&#8482; website
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original &#8220;Plain
-Vanilla ASCII&#8221; or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg&#8482; License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg&#8482; works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-provided that:
-</div>
-
-<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'>
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &#8226; You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
-        the use of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works calculated using the method
-        you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
-        to the owner of the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, but he has
-        agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
-        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
-        within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
-        legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
-        payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
-        Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
-        Section 4, &#8220;Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
-        Literary Archive Foundation.&#8221;
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &#8226; You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
-        you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
-        does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-        License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
-        copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
-        all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-        works.
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &#8226; You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
-        any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
-        electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
-        receipt of the work.
-    </div>
-
-    <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'>
-        &#8226; You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
-        distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482; works.
-    </div>
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of
-the Project Gutenberg&#8482; trademark. Contact the Foundation as set
-forth in Section 3 below.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain &#8220;Defects,&#8221; such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the &#8220;Right
-of Replacement or Refund&#8221; described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you &#8216;AS-IS&#8217;, WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg&#8482; work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg&#8482;
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg&#8482;&#8217;s
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg&#8482; collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg&#8482; and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation&#8217;s EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state&#8217;s laws.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation&#8217;s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West,
-Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up
-to date contact information can be found at the Foundation&#8217;s website
-and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; depends upon and cannot survive without widespread
-public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state
-visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'>
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg&#8482; electronic works
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg&#8482; concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Project Gutenberg&#8482; eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-Most people start at our website which has the main PG search
-facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>.
-</div>
-
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This website includes information about Project Gutenberg&#8482;,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-</div>
-
-</div>
-</body>
-</html>
diff --git a/old/67371-h/images/front.jpg b/old/67371-h/images/front.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index ff7066a..0000000
--- a/old/67371-h/images/front.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/old/67371-h/images/frontispiece.jpg b/old/67371-h/images/frontispiece.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 8f6baab..0000000
--- a/old/67371-h/images/frontispiece.jpg
+++ /dev/null
diff --git a/old/67371-h/images/titlepage.png b/old/67371-h/images/titlepage.png
deleted file mode 100644
index df246be..0000000
--- a/old/67371-h/images/titlepage.png
+++ /dev/null