While we were sitting at our tea the last party of returning warriors
filed past our house, carrying the limbs of those who had been slain in
the fight. Some had human legs over their shoulders, others had threaded
arms through slits in the stomachs of their dismembered foes, had tied
the ends of the arms together, thus forming loops, and through these
ghastly loops they had thrust their own living arms and were carrying
them thus with the gory trunks dangling to and fro. The horrible sight
was too much for us, and retching badly we had to abandon our meal, and
it was some days before we could again eat with any relish. The sight
worked on our nerves, and in the night we would start from our sleep,
having seen in our dreams exaggerated processions passing before us
burdened with sanguinary loads of slain and dismembered bodies.
That night Monsembe and the neighbouring towns were given up to cannibal
feasts, and the next morning they brought some of the cooked meat to the
station, and thinking they were doing us a favour, they offered to share
it with us—the meat looked like black boiled pork. We refused their
offering with disgust, and told them what we thought of their horrible
custom. Long before we settled amongst them we had heard rumours of
their cannibalism, but we regarded the tales as more or less mythical;
we could no longer now disbelieve the stories we had heard. And later
still there came to our ears a very circumstantial report that the folk
of the lower part of our district were procuring for their cannibal
orgies the natives of a tributary of the Congo. They gave ivory and
received human beings in exchange, who quickly found their way to the
saucepan; and a white trader was the intermediary. However, as soon as
the white folk of the district had gathered such evidence as was
irrefutable they brought such pressure to bear on that white trader and
his company (the company was not implicated) that the horrible traffic
was stopped. That an educated white man could sink so low as to become a
wholesale dealer in human flesh to a tribe of African savages is a
psychological mystery that I must leave others to solve.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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