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.