A GREAT HUNTING-FEAST—“ROONDAH”—DIFFERENT VIANDS OF THE MENU—SPEECHES AT THE BANQUET—MUSIC AND DANCING—A WEIRD FOREST-SCENE IN THE TORCHLIGHT.

One afternoon Regundo said to me: “Oguizi, all the hunters and all the men on the different plantations have gone into the forest to hunt, for we want to give a big feast. They will not return for three days. Some have gone net-hunting, others will make traps to catch game, and some hunters have gone with their guns.”

I had accustomed myself to eat the food of the natives. I often fed, while hunting, on fruits, berries and nuts. I ate all that came in my way—elephant, crocodile, buffalo, antelope, monkey, and all kinds of strange animals—and, when starving, I ate even snakes. Bread had been unknown to me since I had lived in the country. Plantain and manioc were my bread when I could get them. In a word, I ate whatever I could get; it was better to do so than to die of starvation.

During the absence of the men, I saw that the women were preparing food; large wooden mortars were filled up with manioc, a root which had been left to soak in the water. The manioc was pounded into a paste which was boiled and became thick and firm. This paste was then shaped into long loaves, enveloped with plantain leaves, these being used instead of the paper we should use at home. These loaves can be kept quite a number of days. To the palate the manioc is somewhat sour.

Some women had been collecting njavi nuts, which come from one of the most beautiful and largest trees of the forest. They boiled the seed, which they mashed afterward on hollowed-out boards, squeezing the paste with their hands, thus extracting the oil, which they poured into gourds.

The small children were busy skinning the squash-seeds, after which the seed was put into a mortar and pounded, forming a very fine paste to which, from time to time, a little njavi oil was added. This is mixed with meat afterwards.

One woman was busy making ndica. She had put seeds of the wild mango into a mortar, and pounded these into a paste, after which the paste was kneaded into the form of a big square cake and left to dry.

“I hope,” said Regundo to me, “the men will return with much game, for I have ‘gouamba.’”

“What is ‘gouamba’?” I asked.

He replied, “It is a craving for meat. When plantain or manioc is set before us day after day without meat or fish, we begin to look at the food with disgust.”

Regundo was right in his description. I had had “gouamba” many times, and I longed for meat, experiencing the same effect as if at home one were fed day after day on bread and water.

But Regundo’s wish was gratified. The hunters returned with a great quantity of game. The most successful were those who had gone net-hunting. Great numbers of long nets tied together had been spread in the forest, and the game had been driven into them.

Everybody was happy. Thank-offerings of game to the spirits “Olombo” and “Mombo” were taken into the forest for them to eat.

That day Regundo made a great offering of food to “Abamboo,” game, plantains, nuts, sugar-cane, ground-nuts, and placed them carefully in the forest. On his return he shouted, “Abamboo, I love you. I offer the best of the food I have to you. Be good to me. Do not let sickness come to me, Abamboo. Kill my enemies, those who wish me evil by witchcraft.”

He also made a sumptuous offering to “Mbuiri.”

The following morning the plantation wore an unusual aspect. Every woman was busy cooking something. I waited around to see what.

In one pot a piece of elephant was boiling; in another a piece of antelope was being cooked. Further on a big fat monkey was roasting on a bright charcoal fire. In another place, the ribs of a huge boar were being roasted in the same manner. Not far from where the boar was being cooked, a big piece of smoked hippopotamus was being boiled. Still further, a piece of smoked buffalo was also boiling, and the cook was scraping ndica into the pot, to add to the flavor of the meat, while another woman was mixing njavi oil with some other kind of meat. In one pot a piece of a large python was boiling.

When all the meats were nearly ready, the women cooked green plantains, took their skins off, cut them in two or three pieces, and then put them in earthenware pots, covering them with green plantain leaves, and in less than half an hour they were ready to be eaten. The plantain must be eaten when quite warm; then it is mealy; when cold it becomes hard, and is not very good.

In the meantime, some of the men were beating tomtoms furiously. Then men appeared with calabashes filled up with palm wine, a liquid coming from the sap of a species of palm-tree which, after it has fermented, becomes intoxicating.

Mats had been spread upon the ground. Baskets and home-made earthenware pots were to be used as dishes. Leaves took the place of plates, gourds of goblets, and fingers of forks.

When everything was ready, we seated ourselves cross-legged on the ground, upon the mats that had been spread. Regundo, Oshoria, Ngola, Ogoola, Quabi, the medicine doctor, or ouganga, and I were close together. Dishes containing the meat of the animals I have mentioned were put before us. I offered to Regundo some buffalo meat.

“No, Oguizi,” said Regundo; “I never touch buffalo meat when it is before me, for it is ‘roondah’ [a forbidden thing]. In the days of old, one of my ancestresses gave birth to a buffalo, and since that time it is ‘roondah’ to all the people that belong to our camp to eat of the buffalo. A vessel in which buffalo has been cooked is never used by our clan. I can eat all other animals.”

Then the ouganga, or medicine-man, exclaimed: “The wild boar is ‘roondah’ to me and to my clan;” and as I was on the point of putting a piece of hippopotamus on the leaf of Oshoria, the latter said: “No, no, Oguizi. I never eat hippopotamus meat. It is ‘roondah’ to me, because in the days of old one of my clan gave birth to a hippopotamus.”

I laughed so much after he said this, shouting, “Never did a human being give birth to a hippopotamus!” that Oshoria said, very seriously: “I speak the truth, Oguizi, believe me.”

Every man had a “roondah,” and never used the vessel in which his forbidden meat had been cooked.

We all had voracious appetites. Big pieces of meat disappeared fast one after another. The men did not seem to take time to chew their food—they took such big mouthfuls. I did not wonder at the size of the pieces they seemed to swallow, for the mouths of most of them, when they laughed almost spread from ear to ear.

Once in a while they would look suspiciously towards the Waterbury clock. They could not get accustomed to it, for it was in their eyes a supernatural thing that was always talking. As to myself, to show them that I had no “roondah,” I tasted of every dish, but ate most of the monkey, for its meat was fat and juicy, and tasted very good.

The dogs surrounded us, and with expectant look were waiting for a bone, and as soon as one got a bone he disappeared to eat it alone.

After every dish had been cleared of its contents I got up from my seat and said: “Slaves of King Mombo, and you belonging to other masters, the Oguizi loves you all.”

Thereupon all shouted at the same time: “We love you also, for you are good, Oguizi. Stay with us all the time.”

At these words Regundo rose and said: “You will not be hungry, Oguizi, while you are with us. The hunters will go and hunt with you; there is plenty of game in the forest—plenty of plantain trees and manioc in the ground.”

“Yes,” shouted all the hunters, “we will go and hunt and kill game for you. Stay with us, good Oguizi.”

At this I got up, telling them not to go away, went into my house, and came out with some beads, looking-glasses, files, fire-steel, flints and powder, and distributed these among them, giving to the women beads and looking-glasses, and to the men the rest. Great excitement ensued. They shouted: “We can die for you, Oguizi, for we love you.” Then in a quieter manner they added: “Every evening after our day’s work is over we will come and talk to you, for it does us good to see you.”

In the evening the slaves came with strange-looking musical instruments. I was to be present at an African concert. The first musician played on a “handja.” How queer the instrument looked! It consisted of a frame about three feet and a half long, and two feet broad, in which were set some ten or twelve hollow gourds covered by thin strips of hardwood. These gourds and the strips of wood were of different sizes and so graduated that they formed a regular series of notes. The tone was clear and good.

When the player had finished his piece, another got up and played upon a kind of harp, covered with the skin of a gazelle, and sang at the same time.

Then another man took his place and played on what we might call a small guitar, covered with a snake skin, singing at the same time. The strings of these instruments were of vegetable fibre.

Ten men then came on with their tomtoms, which varied in size and length according to the fashions of the tribes to which they belonged. The cylinder of the longest was about six feet in length, of the shortest about four feet. The wood was hollowed out quite thin, and antelope skin stretched over both ends tightly. The drummers beat furiously on the upper or larger end with two sticks. The more excited the people became, the louder the drummers beat. No music can excite the savage more than these tomtoms. The singing became terrific; the women, as well as the men, made the wildest contortions and gesticulations as they danced. By the light of the torches, with the great forest surrounding us, the scene appeared weird and fantastic, as if it did not belong to this world. It was almost morning when the festivities ended.