"Many Of The Children," Said They,
"Talk About The Strange Things You Bring To Their Ears, But The Old Men
Show a little opposition by saying, `Do we know what he is talking about?'"
Ntlaria and others complain of
Treacherous memories, and say,
"When we hear words about other things, we hold them fast;
but when we hear you tell much more wonderful things than any we have
ever heard before, we don't know how it is, they run away from our hearts."
These are the more intelligent of my Makololo friends.
On the majority the teaching produces no appreciable effect;
they assent to the truth with the most perplexing indifference,
adding, "But we don't know," or, "We do not understand."
My medical intercourse with them enabled me to ascertain their moral status
better than a mere religious teacher could do. They do not attempt
to hide the evil, as men often do, from their spiritual instructors;
but I have found it difficult to come to a conclusion on their character.
They sometimes perform actions remarkably good, and sometimes
as strangely the opposite. I have been unable to ascertain the motive
for the good, or account for the callousness of conscience with which
they perpetrate the bad. After long observation, I came to the conclusion
that they are just such a strange mixture of good and evil
as men are every where else. There is not among them an approach
to that constant stream of benevolence flowing from the rich to the poor
which we have in England, nor yet the unostentatious attentions
which we have among our own poor to each other. Yet there are
frequent instances of genuine kindness and liberality, as well as
actions of an opposite character. The rich show kindness to the poor
in expectation of services, and a poor person who has no relatives
will seldom be supplied even with water in illness, and, when dead,
will be dragged out to be devoured by the hyaenas instead of being buried.
Relatives alone will condescend to touch a dead body. It would be easy
to enumerate instances of inhumanity which I have witnessed.
An interesting-looking girl came to my wagon one day in a state of nudity,
and almost a skeleton. She was a captive from another tribe,
and had been neglected by the man who claimed her. Having supplied her wants,
I made inquiry for him, and found that he had been unsuccessful in raising
a crop of corn, and had no food to give her. I volunteered to take her;
but he said he would allow me to feed her and make her fat,
and then take her away. I protested against his heartlessness;
and, as he said he could "not part with his child," I was precluded
from attending to her wants. In a day or two she was lost sight of.
She had gone out a little way from the town, and, being too weak to return,
had been cruelly left to perish.
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