Cannibalism is not met with on the Congo until we ascend almost to Stanley Pool. The first tribe of the Bateke—the Alali—on the north bank, are said to eat human flesh sometimes, but only those who have been killed for witchcraft. The Amfuninga, or Amfunu, the next tribe of Bateke, are also credited with the same vice. It is only a report; we have no evidence of the fact. From Bolobo (2° South lat.) upwards it is known to be a custom. White men have had to witness the cutting up of victims, being powerless to prevent the act. When remonstrated with, the natives have replied, ‘You kill your goats, and no one finds fault with you; let us kill our meat then.’ When eating their ghastly meal, the parents give morsels of the cooked flesh to the little ones, to give them the taste for such food.

Why they eat human flesh it would be difficult to say. Tribes towards the east coast eat their enemies that they may gain their strength and courage, and it is probable that some such notion underlies the custom on the Upper Congo. We hope to settle among these folk soon, and may get to understand the reasons.

It is customary on the upper river to bury—sometimes alive—slaves or wives of a deceased chief. This is done that he may not appear without attendants in the spirit world.

‘The dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty.’

There are two customs which prevail through the country—Ndembo, and another, very much like Freemasonry, called Nkimba.

In the practice of Ndembo, the initiating doctors get some one to fall down in a pretended fit, and in this state he is carried away to an enclosed place outside the town. This is called ‘dying Ndembo.’ Others follow suit, generally boys and girls, but often young men and women. Most feign the fit; but sometimes, when it has become the fashion, others will be attacked with hysteria, and so the doctor gets sufficient for a wholesale initiation, twenty or thirty, or even fifty.

They are supposed to have died. But the parents and friends supply food, and after a period varying, according to custom, from three months to three years, it is arranged that the doctor shall bring them to life again. The custom is not only degrading, but extremely mischievous in its results. So bad is it, that before we reached San Salvador the king of Congo had stopped the custom in his town; and others had followed suit in neighbouring districts, giving the reason that it was too vile to be continued.

When the doctor’s fee had been paid, and money (goods) saved for a feast, the Ndembo people are brought to life. At first they pretend to know no one and nothing; they do not even know how to masticate food, and friends have to perform that office for them. They want everything nice that any one uninitiated may have, and beat them if it is not granted, or even strangle and kill people. They do not get into trouble for this, because it is thought that they do not know better. Sometimes they carry on the pretence by talking gibberish, and behaving as if they had returned from the spirit world. After this they are known by another name, peculiar to those who have ‘died Ndembo.’ There seems to be no advantage accruing to the initiated, the license and the love of mystery seem to be the only inducements. We hear of the custom far along on the upper river, as well as in the cataract region. The Nkimba custom is an introduction from the coast of comparatively recent times. The initiatory fee is paid (about two dollars of cloth and two fowls), and the novice repairs to an enclosure outside of the town. He is given a drug which stupefies him, and when he comes to himself he finds his fellow Nkimbas wearing a crinoline of palm frondlets, their bodies whitened with pipeclay, and speaking a mysterious language. Only males are initiated into this rite, which is more like our own Freemasonry. Living apart for a period, varying from six month to two years, he acquires the mysterious language, and at the end of his time he is reckoned a full brother, Mbwamvu anjata, and all Nkimbas in all districts hail him as a brother, help him in his business, give him hospitality, conversing freely with him in the mystic language. It is no gibberish, as that attempted by the Ndembo folk, but until quite lately no white man could get any collection of words. I have, however, been able to get over two hundred words and forty sentences; and while still unable to understand thoroughly the principles on which it has been made up, it is evident that it has been made. The vocabulary is limited, and is characterised by the system of alliteral concord. Some words are slight changes of ordinary Congo, and others bear no resemblance.

The common people are given to understand that the Nkimba know how to catch witches. In the daytime they wander in the grass, and dig for roots, and gather nuts in the woods, often beating people on the roads who do not run away on their approach. At night they rush about screaming and yelling and uttering their wild trill. Woe to the unfortunate man who ventures out of his house in the night for any purpose, a beating and heavy fine will surely follow.

There is no other nonsense to add to the mystery and fear, but the whole raison d’Être is the establishment of this fraternity or guild, for mutual help and protection; and the period of separation is for the acquirement of the useful mystic language. Ndembo is an unmitigated abomination; Nkimba is comparatively harmless and useful. It is making its way in from the coast, and may be found interiorwards on the south bank for one hundred and seventy-five miles.

An instance of the usefulness of Nkimba is supplied in the story of the founding of our Bayneston Station. It was decided that a promontory, jutting into the river near Vunda, would be a most advantageous site for a base of water transport on the piece of river, still used by Mr. Stanley, and lying between Isangila and Manyanga. We were then using the wild river there because the road by land was blocked.

We had carried overland for fifty miles our steel sectional boat, the Plymouth. Landing on the promontory, Messrs. Comber and Hartland pitched their tents for the night, sending a message to the towns on the hills by a fisherman that they would like to see the chiefs in the morning. Up to eleven o’clock no one appeared, and they determined to go themselves. As they neared the towns all was in the wildest excitement; no white man had ever been there before. The women had been sent into the woods, and the men advanced in the grass with their guns to fight the intruders. The missionaries had with them a headman who was a Nkimba, and seeing the dangerous state of affairs, he rushed forward uttering the Nkimba trill; this was replied to, and all was quiet. The missionaries were received by some of the principal men, who agreed to let them have the headland, and, a fortnight later, they signed the contract, selling the land to us, in consideration of a fitting present. Although some of our best scholars are called away sometimes to be initiated into Nkimba, we do not regard it as an unmixed evil.

The natives of the Congo basin are not idolators, and as they know of no means of communicating with Nzambi (God), they betake themselves to charms. A Congo boy grows up, and sees every one with his charms. One man boasts that he has a charm that will make him rich, and he ties to it a little strip of every piece of cloth he buys; others have charms to keep away witches, against theft or sickness, to stop or to bring rain—charms which enable them to cure sicknesses, or to perform the office of witch-doctor, of Nganga-a-moko, or to discover theft. From very babyhood a child hears the word Nkixi (a charm, x = sh) frequently uttered; no wonder, then, that as he grows up he thinks that there must be something in it. He knows a man, who for a consideration, will teach him to make a charm, or perhaps will sell him a little image and bundle of mysteries. Fondly hoping that it will do all that the charm-doctor has promised, he always keeps it with him, and perhaps believes that his own life is in the thing, and if any one got possession of it he could cause his death; he dare not sleep without it near him, and so the falsehood works until he becomes its slave. I have watched a chief on market-day weaving his spells. He would bring out his charms and spread them on a mat, take a little red powder, work it into a paste, and put some on his image and on each side of his own forehead; then rummage in his bundles and find some mysterious nuts, or something strange, scrape a tiny fragment and put it into his mouth, nibble it, and spit and sputter over his image and charms; then take a little gunpowder, and mix a little mystery with it, and burn it on a stone. Next, chewing some cola-nut, he would spit and sputter it over the charms, burn more powder, rummage further among his charms; and finally, making some marks on his temples and forehead, he would be ready to go to market.

Such a man is feared. Who knows what he could do with all those charms? His air of mystery, the fuss he makes, his boasts—these, with a large amount of knavery, make the common people think him a great man.

On one occasion, in the early times of the mission, Mr. Comber was forbidden to sleep in a town on the road. He was compelled to sleep out in the grass with his people without shelter. There was some sign of rain, so the carriers begged one of their number, who boasted much of his rain-charms, to avert the coming storm. He worked hard with his charms, but notwithstanding it rained hard on the shelterless folk nearly all night. The medicine-man said that his charms would not work with white men about.

Among our hired labourers from the coast and elsewhere, we have often had in our gangs rascals making much fuss about their charms, and in consequence much feared by all their work-fellows. They were consulted by their mates in sickness, and demanded heavy pay for their advice. Then, because they were supposed to have such great powers for evil as well as for good, they would borrow money or goods, and no one dare refuse, or make them repay. They would need to be constantly propitiated, and thus one scoundrel would get eventually a large share of the wages of his mates. We could never get direct evidence or proof, and could not interfere; and as the payments would mostly be made after they had received their wages, and were beyond our reach, we had to know of the evil, but were powerless to check it.

This, however, is more a coast type. Those nearest to ‘civilization’ are far more superstitious, or rather make more use of superstitions, than the natives of the interior. But everywhere the same principles work in a variety of forms. There are doubtless many simple folk who believe it all; many must, however, be consciously imposing on their fellows. To-day, even in England, there are people who would hesitate to take down the horseshoe which was put up over the doorway ‘for luck.’ Others still believe it unlucky to pass under a ladder. Dream-charms and fortune-telling have not yet disappeared from this Christian land.

There is an infinite variety of nkixi in Congo, almost anything may go towards their composition. Dry leaves, snakes’ heads, hawks’ claws, feathers, elephant’s skin, stones, seeds, nuts, beans, the horns of the smaller antelopes, but with all a quantity of red ochre. Pipeclay also plays an important part.

Images have been mentioned, not that they are idols, or more personal than bundles of mysteries; but just as children playing with clay would think first of making a little man, so Congos, often make little images, hideous, rudely carved, with perhaps a piece of looking-glass on the chest.

In some towns there may be seen a great image, under a sheltering roof, which represents the charm that protects the town. Children are placed under its protection by the payment of a fee to the Nganga, who weaves certain spells and makes certain articles taboo. In some places it is nlongo (taboo) to eat an egg, or a fowl, goat’s head, hippopotamus flesh, pork, yams, antelope flesh, rats, bananas. This taboo must be observed to insure the protection of the fetish; to break it would entail disease and death. Sometimes a town possesses an image-charm which will enable its doctor to find out thefts, and in consequence the people are afraid to steal. Talking with a man once about this ‘thief-medicine,’ he positively declared the truthfulness of the oracle. ‘Why, I was found out myself once,’ he said; ‘I went to Dedede’s town, and stole a piece of cloth from a man’s house. No one saw me, or had any means of knowing that I did it; and yet the thief-doctor found me out at once. What can you say after that?’

Often in the houses of the sick, the ‘medicine’ may be seen in one corner of the room, a dirty image and charms, bespattered with blood and chewed cola-nut.

So strong is the belief in the discerning power of these charms, that a thief will sometimes return what he has stolen, rather than incur the disease that might follow. I know a case in which a man lost something in a town. He paid a small fee to the thief-doctor, who arranged with his charms to curse the thief with disease if the articles were not restored by the next morning. The things appeared in due course, and were found lying in front of the door, having been returned during the night.

These charms are sometimes addressed and often scolded when they do not act as they ought; but even the images in no way take the places of idols, neither are they regarded as personalities or sentient beings. Any such address is only by way of apostrophe or ill-temper. Such a scene as that depicted in a recent work on The Congo, of a native prostrate praying to his fetish image, is altogether due to imagination and a graphic pen; such a thing we have never heard of, and it is contrary to radical principles.

A fetish, of whatever kind, is but a charm, and imports no more than is conveyed by that word. It is an appeal to the black art for protection and help, as they know nothing of a God who loves and cares for them, and with whom there can be any communication. The gospel of the love of God in its fullest revelation in Christ, and brought to bear upon their hearts by the gracious influence of the Holy Spirit, is the only power which can lift these poor people out of their darkness and degradation, and satisfy the yearnings of their hearts. Circumcision is largely practised in some parts, and is generally performed early, but is by no means universal. It is not a religious rite. The customs of Ndembo and Nkimba are in no way connected with it. It is simply a custom supposed to have some advantages.

There is something which approaches to a sacrifice, although very imperfectly. Blood is sometimes used in the weaving of a spell1 or charm, whether for medicine or any other purpose. The victim slaughtered is called kimenga, and the blood used in the charm or smeared on the nkixi is called nzabu a menga. Sometimes the blood of a beast slain in the chase is poured out on the grave of a great hunter to insure further success. This ceremony, and libations of palm wine poured out (very rarely) on the graves of great men, are the only traces of ancestral worship, and are not worthy of being thus dignified. The spirit of the dead hunter visiting his grave may be pleased at the sight of the blood, which will recall to him past times. Perhaps the spirits of dead chiefs can, in some way, enjoy a libation of the palm wine, to which they were once so addicted.

In concluding this sketch of native customs and superstitions, it may be well to note one or two which help us to express some of our religious ideas. When coming down from Stanley Pool on my last journey, I was sleeping in a town, and at midnight heard a woman screaming and calling out the name of a fetish. This lasted for some time, until, not understanding the customs, I felt apprehensive lest some might think that I had bewitched her. I learned, however, that it was all right, and in the morning a new phase of fetishism was explained to me. This woman had placed herself under the protection of a charm. She had been to a doctor, who wove mysterious spells, drummed, sang, and danced, gave her something to drink, made certain articles of food taboo, and behaved in such a wild and strange manner that he was able to persuade her that a certain fetish influence or spirit had entered into her, which would bring her luck, would protect her from evil influences, and which, should a witch approach her to do her harm, would arouse her to a sense of her danger. On the night in question the poor woman had a bad dream, and waking with a sense of horror, believed that her good fetish spirit had made known to her the approach of a witch. So, rushing out in wild excitement, she screamed and shouted to the fetish, and thus tried to frighten the witch.

We can use their phraseology to explain how we may be brought under a higher, holier, and more blessed influence. They can the better understand how our Heavenly Father will give us His Holy Spirit, who will dwell within us to be our Guard and Guide, to warn us against wrong-doing, to protect us from our spiritual foes, and to purify our hearts. That woman’s dream gave us words to express most graphically and intelligibly the great truths of which they in their darkness still had a shadow.

Another custom helps us. When a slave has a bad master, who ill-treats him, and who may, perhaps, intend to sell him on the coast, the slave will run away to a chief who has a good name in the country, and tell him that he has come to be his slave. If the chief is willing, he orders a goat to be killed; the chief and the slave eat goat together; the covenant is made, and the new slave is called a ‘goat.’ His old master hears that his slave is with the other chief, and comes with bluster to demand him back. The new master refuses to give him up in spite of all threats, and finally the old master is obliged to accept a fair price. Slaves thus obtained are much esteemed, for they are generally faithful, and having thus made their choice, are not likely to run away again. Sometimes free people in trouble will thus become slaves for protection.

So, borrowing their terms, we can urge the dear lads of our schools to take refuge with the Saviour, who will redeem them from a more terrible bondage, and deliver them from the power of the evil one; a Saviour who will be their protector, and who will take them to live with Him, a Master in whose service is truest freedom. We have reason to believe that some of our lads have taken the Saviour thus to be their Lord and Master, and trusting in Him for pardon, rejoice to consider themselves His ‘goats.’

Our couriers came in one day and told us that they had seen a man killed on Mbimbi market. A chief had caught a man for debt on market-day; and as there is a stringent law to provide perfect security on market-day, the chiefs sentenced the offender to death. He was allowed to find a substitute, and bought a slave in a neighbouring district. This poor innocent man was beaten to death on the market in the place of the chief. We have thus words and ideas to aid us in telling the story of the loving Saviour, through whose blood we have redemption, pardon, and reconciliation.

Trade and commerce appear only to increase the wickedness and cruelty, for while their influence quickens the intelligence, activity, and industry of the people, it can have no moral and spiritual effect. It is best that there should be both legitimate traders and missionaries, each working in their own sphere. Trade will but elevate to a certain point. The gospel only will work the radical cure.

The children, passing in numbers through our schools, understand many of the evils which degrade and enthral their fellow countrymen, and deplore them. When they grow up they will form a party, which will in time make itself heard; and as the young people have much influence in a town, changes may take place fairly soon. It all means steady persistent work, which must in the end prevail.