The Veteran
Traveller Of The Party Remarked, That He Had Not Seen So Much
Drunkenness During All The Sixteen Years He Had Spent In Africa.
As
we entered a village one afternoon, not a man was to be seen; but
some women were drinking beer under a tree.
In a few moments the
native doctor, one of the innocents, "nobody's enemy but his own,"
staggered out of a hut, with his cupping-horn dangling from his neck,
and began to scold us for a breach of etiquette. "Is this the way to
come into a man's village, without sending him word that you are
coming?" Our men soon pacified the fuddled but good-humoured medico,
who, entering his beer-cellar, called on two of them to help him to
carry out a huge pot of beer, which he generously presented to us.
While the "medical practitioner" was thus hospitably employed, the
chief awoke in a fright, and shouted to the women to run away, or
they would all be killed. The ladies laughed at the idea of their
being able to run away, and remained beside the beer-pots. We
selected a spot for our camp, our men cooked the dinner as usual, and
we were quietly eating it, when scores of armed men, streaming with
perspiration, came pouring into the village. They looked at us, then
at each other, and turning to the chief upbraided him for so
needlessly sending for them. "These people are peaceable; they do
not hurt you; you are killed with beer:" so saying, they returned to
their homes.
Native beer has a pinkish colour, and the consistency of gruel. The
grain is made to vegetate, dried in the sun, pounded into meal, and
gently boiled. When only a day or two old, the beer is sweet, with a
slight degree of acidity, which renders it a most grateful beverage
in a hot climate, or when fever begets a sore craving for acid
drinks. A single draught of it satisfies this craving at once. Only
by deep and long-continued potations can intoxication be produced:
the grain being in a minutely divided state, it is a good way of
consuming it, and the decoction is very nutritious. At Tette a
measure of beer is exchanged for an equal-sized pot full of grain. A
present of this beer, so refreshing to our dark comrades, was brought
to us in nearly every village. Beer-drinking does not appear to
produce any disease, or to shorten life on the hills. Never before
did we see so many old, grey-headed men and women; leaning on their
staves they came with the others to see the white men. The aged
chief, Muata Manga, could hardly have been less than ninety years of
age; his venerable appearance struck the Makololo. "He is an old
man," said they, "a very old man; his skin hangs in wrinkles, just
like that on elephants' hips." "Did you never," he was asked, "have
a fit of travelling come over you; a desire to see other lands and
people?" No, he had never felt that, and had never been far from
home in his life. For long life they are not indebted to frequent
ablutions. An old man told us that he remembered to have washed once
in his life, but it was so long since that he had forgotten how it
felt. "Why do you wash?" asked Chinsunse's women of the Makololo;
"our men never do."
The superstitious ordeal, by drinking the poisonous muave, obtains
credit here; and when a person is suspected of crime, this ordeal is
resorted to. If the stomach rejects the poison, the accused is
pronounced innocent; but if it is retained, guilt is believed to be
demonstrated. Their faith is so firm in its discriminating power,
that the supposed criminal offers of his own accord to drink it, and
even chiefs are not exempted. Chibisa, relying on its efficacy,
drank it several times, in order to vindicate his character. When
asserting that all his wars had been just, it was hinted that, as
every chief had the same tale of innocence to tell, we ought to
suspend our judgment. "If you doubt my word," said he, "give me the
muave to drink." A chief at the foot of Mount Zomba successfully
went through the ordeal the day we reached his village; and his
people manifested their joy at his deliverance by drinking beer,
dancing, and drumming for two days and nights. It is possible that
the native doctor, who mixes the ingredients of the poisoned bowl,
may be able to save those whom he considers innocent; but it is
difficult to get the natives to speak about the matter, and no one is
willing to tell what the muave poison consists of. We have been
shown trees said to be used, but had always reason to doubt the
accuracy of our informants. We once found a tree in a village, with
many pieces of the bark chipped off, closely allied to the Tangena or
Tanghina, the ordeal poison tree of Madagascar; but we could not
ascertain any particulars about it. Death is inflicted on those
found guilty of witchcraft, by the muave.
The women wail for the dead two days. Seated on the ground they
chant a few plaintive words, and end each verse with the prolonged
sound of a-a, or o-o, or ea-ea-ea - a. Whatever beer is in the house
of the deceased, is poured out on the ground with the meal, and all
cooking and water pots are broken, as being of no further use. Both
men and women wear signs of mourning for their dead relatives. These
consist of narrow strips of the palm-leaf wound round the head, the
arms, legs, neck, and breasts, and worn till they drop off from
decay. They believe in the existence of a supreme being, called
Mpambe, and also Morungo, and in a future state.
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