Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic OceanStanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
Through the Dark Continent, Vol. 2 (of 2) : $b or, The sources of the Nile around the Great Lakes of Equatorial Africa and down the Livingstone River to the Atlantic Ocean
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Description and travel; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904 -- Travel -- Africa, Central
“It is strange, if we consider of what small things pride is born. The
European is proud of his pale colour, and almost all native Africans
appear to be proud because they are black. Pride arises most naturally
from a full stomach. Esau, while hungry, forgot his birthright and
heritage, because of weakened vitals. I forgot mine because my stomach
had collapsed through emptiness. The arrogance of the two chiefs of
Ikengo was nourished by a sense of fulness. I presume, were the
contents of their stomachs analysed, we should find them consist of
undigested manioc, banana, with a copious quantity of fluid. What
virtues lie in these that they should be proud? Their bodies were
shrouded with a grass cloth, greasy and black from wear. Their weapons
were flintlocks loaded with three inches of powder and three of slugs.
Yet they were insufferably rude!
“By-and-by they cooled down. We got them to sit and talk, and we
laughed together, and were apparently the best of friends. Of all the
things which struck their fancy, my note-book, which they called
‘tara-tara,’ or looking-glass, appeared to them to be the most
wonderful. They believed it possessed manifold virtues, and that it
came from above. Would I, could I, sell it to them? It would have
found a ready sale. But as it contains records of disaster by flood
and fire, charts of rivers and creeks and islands, sketches of men and
manners, notes upon a thousand objects, I could not part with it even
for a tusk of ivory.
“They got angry and sulky again. It was like playing with and coaxing
spoiled children. We amused them in various ways, and they finally
became composed, and were conquered by good nature. With a generous
scorn of return gifts, they presented me with a gourdful of palm-wine.
But I begged so earnestly for food that they sent their canoes back,
and, while they sat down by my side, it devolved upon me until their
return to fascinate and charm them with benignant gestures and broken
talk. About 3 P.M. provisions came in basketfuls of cassava tubers,
bananas, and long plantains, and the two chiefs made me rich by their
liberality, while the people began also to thaw from that stupor into
which impending famine had plunged them. At sunset our two friends,
with whom I had laboured with a zealot’s enthusiasm, retired, each
leaving a spear as a pledge with me that they would return to-morrow,
and renew our friendly intercourse, with canoe-loads of provisions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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