Image provided by: University of Oregon Libraries; Eugene, OR
About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (May 17, 1908)
8 v Ji - if - - 5C2'EC y&?-ZZZFfi BY FRANK G. CARPENTER. B' t'KOBA, German East Africa. I have just made a big bargain In clothes. I purchased the ward robe of a girl of 18, and have it packed away in my trunk. The sale was made in the midst of a crowd, and the price for the whole was equal to just 16 cents of our money. The coinage was in cowry shells, about as bis as my thumb nail, and I had to pay BOO of these for the cos tume. The dress had all the swish of a silk petticoat; and it rustled, as the young lady walked along with me to the town of Bukoba, where my silver money was changed Into shells. Among the Bazibas. This in a i don was a Baziba, and a very good-looking type of the people who in habit this part of German East Africa. I took her out of the crowd in which she stood, and, before she delivered the goods, had a photograph made. She stood just about four feet in height, and was as straight as an arrow. Her dress began et the waist and reached to her ankles. Above it she had on only two strings around her neck. The dress was made of the long fibers of the raphia palm, and Jt looked for all the world like so much timothy hay tied on by a string. There were so many strands of the fiber that they hid all of her person below the waist end they swayed this way and that as i ehe walked. ! 1 was in company with Archdeacon Walker, the famous Uganda missionary, , and it was through him. as an interpreter, that she made the trade. When I point ed to her dress and held up the silver coin her eyes brightened, and when the archdeacon told her that I was willing to pay cash she gladly assented. She borrowed a piece of red calico about the sise of a dinner napkin, which one of her sisters was wearing as a shawl, and loos ing this tiber skirt a little at the waist she slipped in the napkin and wrapped it around her person. It was long enough to fall to the middle of her thighs, and she fastened it over the left hip with a thorn. She then took off her skirt of long fringe and handed It to me; and we vent on together to the village to change our money to shells. -On the way there, the archdeacon talked with the irl. He told me she was trembling with excite ment and delight at her bargain, and ventured sho had never made as much as 4 cents a day in her life, and probably Hot over 3. Here she was selling her old rkirt for 500 shells, equal to six or eight days of hard work. When I gave her the shells she trotted oft laughing and then thanked us again and again for my Rreat generosity. In the whole trans action she displayed not the slightest Immodesty, and at the close, although almost nude, was hot ashamed. Clothing of Grass. These Pnzibas are all clad in grass clothing. The men have grass or fiber cloaks which they wear around their shoulders. Some have shirts of grass fas tened to a ring at the top through which tho neck goes, and the unmarried girls have little fringes of grass or ra.pphia liber, not over eight inches long, which they wear around their waists. Outside this the girl may have a bracelet or two and some anklets of wire, but otherwise she is bare. This matter of nudity, however, is en tirely governed by custom. On the other side of Lake Victoria, among the Kavl xondo, 1 saw thousands who go naked from one year's end to the other and who in their manners are Jut as decent and quite as modest as our people at liome. In t'ganda, whence I came here, the women are clad from their chests to their feet In robes of black cloth; and it Is inrpolite for a ma.n to lift up his gown above the middle of the calf. Neverthe less, the Baanda are said to be much less virtuous than the naked Kavirondo, and I venture they will not rank higher in that respect than these grass-clad Bazi bas. Icnth for Infidelity. Indeed, of all the Inhabitants around Lake Victoria these people axe about the most ricid in renrd to unrh matters. and offenses against the marriage tie are punished severely. The .Baxiba man and woman who attempt to live together without being married take their lives In their hand. They are liable to be tied hand and foot end thrown into the lake; and if they dwell far off in the country they are carried to the nearest swamp and buried alive under the flags. Mar riages take place on about the same con ditions as in other parts of Africa, the girls being sold by their parents. Just now the usual price for a bride is 10.000 cowry shells, or a little over three dollars This is for a fat. good-looking maiden of 15 or so. The price from there on falls according to age, and a full-grown wo man or widow often brings les than $1.73. But before I go farther !ej me tell you lKut tills land of the Saxibas, where PEOPLE WHO DKE55 IK FRANK G. CARPENTER WRITE5 OF THE BAZ1BAS WHO DWELL ON THE 5H0RE5 OF VICTORIA NYANZA now am. It lies in German East Africa Just below Uganda, on the western side of Lake Victoria. It is bounded on the east by the lake, and It Includes a part of the Kagera River, which many believe to be the source of the Nile. That river rises in the highlands not far from Lake Tan ganyika, and flows In a winding way through German East Africa, emptying into Lake Victoria almost on the bound ary between the two countries. Commis sioner Tompkins of Entebbe tells me that the river is quite wide at its mouth, and that it can be navigated for about 70 miles. I passed this river on my way to Bukoba. We left Entebbe, the British capital of Uganda, at 4 A. M. and were all day long steaming off the western shores of Lake Victoria. Our first course was through I the Sesse Islands, about the largest archi pelago in the lake They are beautifully wooded on the shores, with grass lands higher up. They were formerly well pop ulated, but they are now almost deserted. on account of the sleeping sickness, caused by the bite of the tsetze fly, which Infests their shores. After traveling through these Islands I we went westward along a country which looks very much like southern Ireland, ! and which would compare with Staten Island If the latter had no houses upon it. we passed a little rocky islet, known as the "Island of the Dead." and then I came into this beautiful harbor of Bu koba and anchored well out in the bay. Bukoba. Bukoba is the northernmost station in German East Africa. It is beautifully situated, lying on a moon-shaped bay backed by low hills. At the south are grass-grown bluffs ending In palisades of granite, which rise straight up from the water to a height of 200 feet. Right under these bluffs is the landing place, and it was a little outside them that the steamship Winnifred came to anchor. We were carried to shore in native canoes of wonderful workmanship. Each boat was about 30 feet long, three feet wide and two feet deep. It had a keel made of the trunk of a tree and the sides were of -hewn boards about a fourth of an Inch thick and one foot in width, run ning almost the full length of the boat. The boards were sewn together and fas tened to the keel by threads of fiber or bark and the whole was made watertight. There are also larger boats, some even 50 feet long, which are used for nav igating the lake. They are made the same way. We stepped out on the shore under th bluffs and walked perhaps three-quarters or a mue through the banana groves about the bay to the opposite end of the harbor. Here is the headquarters of the German government, consisting of a fort, a barracks, and the home of the commander. The fort Is t made of brick, plastered on the outside, and roofed. Na tive soldiers guarded the gates, but we were able to passthrough into the large inciosure which contains the barracks and other buildings. The grounds comprise several acres. They are covered with green grass and have also beds of red flowers surrounded by hedges. As we went In we saw chain gangs of blacks bringing dirt to make the flower beds. Each gang con sisted of about 20 men chained and pad locked. Every man had a steel collar about his neck and there was a chain which ran from man to man by being attached to these collars, so that the gang made a great jingling as It walked along. Each had a sheet of corrugat ed Iron on his head, and upon this about a bushel or so of black earth from the swamps outside the fort. The men were guarded at the front and rear by soldiers with guns. A Call Upon the Commandant. The soldiers at the gates were not especially friendly, and it seemed to me that the officers within did not want to meet strangers. Archdeacon Walker was with me, and through his knowl edge of the native language we were able to talk with the guards and make' our way. The first soldiers we met told us that the commandant was asleep and that we could not see him until he had finished his after-dinner nap. We then started away, but were called back by another soldier, who told us that his highness had just awakened and would probably be out presently. This man did not ask us into the house, so we stood there and waited until the Governor might appear. In the course of 15 min utes he did so, and after that we were very well treated. The name of the Gov ernor Is Baron Captain von Stuman. He Is a short, fat, little man with blonde beard. He was dressed in white duck, but nevertheless looked exceedingly warm. He took us into the house and we chatted together for some time about his country and people. He told me that the trade about Lake Victoria Is rap idly growing, and that a large part of the goatskins and hides, which form one of the principal exports, goes to the United States. He says there is an in creasing demand for American cotton goods and advises our country to push them. He also gave the opinion that German East Africa was beginning to prosper and that it would eventually be a well-paying colony, SborUy alier tbia we left the Governor THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, PORTLAND, MAY 17, 1908. m n ' : W. Sk . frO t, i ! L vir. .Mini" ' VI PSVTI lit i Jrg7 T ,XXfJ v-HK $ i n ...... II S 8" "i Zi 4 ,8H J?S,;4 $ i N I drums, and I tried to purchase one rrom . II I Ml it 4. 'llEmlWh l IN a chief. The instrument I picked out n i m h -i mams, -. a ' 11 .11 XT'. ,s -V K'$l-?kti "'ii II 1 V" fiTSWIJA; ?.-'-. -H L , frL.w.,7., ' - " f w. I : n and strolled out into the town of Bukoba to look at the stores and the market. These are right near the fort, the village proper being some distance away. The chief business street consists of a dozen or more little booths, each occupied by a Hindoo merchant, who sits or stands in it. surrounded by his goods. The black, grass-clad customers remain outside the store and make their purchases by means of cowry shells. The chief things sold are colored and uncolored cottons, the fa vorites, as I have said, being American sheetings. Another popular article of merchandise is wire, of copper, iron and brass. This is used by the natives as Jewelry, and it Is almost as valuable as gold and silver are in our country. The wire is brought here in great kegs, and coils of it are hung up in front of the stores. It is of all thicknesses, from the size of a human hair to the diameter of one's little finger. The thicker wire is hammered out into armlets, anklets and collars, and the finer is woven- and plaited into similar ornaments. Some of the wire jewelry is heavy, and a very common anklet worn by the women looks as though it might have been torn from our woven wire fences and twisted together. In the market square, near these stores. I saw many black peddlers. They squatted on the ground, with their wares piled about them. Here a woman sola sweet potatoes, there one offered little piles of the entrails of sheep or goats, and farther over were others selling pea nuts and white ants. The white ants had been roasted. They were displayed upon bits of banana leaves, and were sold at so many shells per pile. Shells Used as Money. The cowry shell is the chief currency of this part of Africa, and I understand it is in common throughout the regions about Lake Tanganyika and the Congo Valley. The shells are brought here from the coast of India and are exchanged for rupees at the rate of 1000 to the rupee. A rupee is worth about 33 cents, and as the shells are put up in strings of 100 each, a string of shells is worth just about 3 cents of our money. Among my recent purchases are two spears at 1509 shells each, a carved milk bowl at 2000 shells, and a native chopping knife which cost 1000 shells. These shells are very small, but. when used by the thousand they are clumsy to handle. Indeed, 20,000 of them weigh 70 pounds, and that is all that one man can carry. When I go through the country I shall have to have at least IS porters to carry every hundred dollars I take with me. Seven dollars' worth is a good load for a man, and 10 cents' worth would weigh about as much as 16 of our silver dollars. This makes commerce diffi cult, and the Germans are trying to intro duce a new coinage based on the Indian rupee. The chief trouble is to make the coin small enough. The present issue in cludes coins known as hellers, of which 100 go to a rupee, so that one heller is worth one-third of a cent of our money. In a Baziba Village. Leaving the market. I visited the vil lage near the fort and then went across the country to see other towns in the interior. The houses are very much like those of the Baganda. At a distance they look like haystacks or straw tents. They are made of poles fastened to gether, at the top, making a framework. the shape of a cone. This Is lined with reeds, which run' from the bottom to the top and are fastened together by bands of reeffs", which go round and round in side the hut from floor to roof. The out side is thatched, and the thatch comes clear to the ground. The roof is upheld by many poles, which are so arranged that they divide the interior into rooms. One of the huts which I entered had two apartments about three feet wide and six feet long, which were used for sleeping. In the center of the hut was fire, upon which, in an earthen pot. some food was steaming away. There was neither stove nor chimney . and the smoke filled the hut. It had already turned the walls and- roof a deep brown color, so that the whole .looked gloomy. I understand that the fire is kept up day and night, as the weather is often damp. and also as new fires are hard to kindle. In many parts of this country matches are comparatively unknown, and fire is gotten by twisting one stick in a hole made in a block of wood until the friction brings a light. The floor of this hut was well pounded down and the wall inside was plastered with clay to the height of my waist. There was no grass or hay on the floor. as is common in Uganda, and the en trance, which was very low,, was by no means so beautifully made. In the Homes of the. Chiefs. In my trip over the country nearby I stopped at a large native town made up of the homes of the chiefs and their re tainers. These are occupied by native rulers, who live some distance away, but who are required by the Germans to spend a part of each year at Bukoba. They might be called the court residences of these men, for they come here to have conferences with the Germans as to how to govern their subjects, to pay their taxes and to see that the right amount of government work is supplied by their people. - The town is made uo of inclosures sur rounded by high fences of upright poles tightly sewed together by vines. Inside each fence is the establishment of an Af rican nabob and his numerous wives. In going through the village I wound my way about inciosure after inciosure, through one walled alley into another and in and out among buildings of poles and mud until my sense of direction was lost, and I seemed to be in a Rosamond's bower. One of the chiefs was putting up a new establishment, and I had a chance to see how the buildings were construct ed. They are made of poles, mud and elephant grass, and one man may have a large number, including separate apart ments for each of his wives. There were not many women about, but such as 1 saw were clad in grass strings reaching from their waists to their feet and a few had on grass capes of similar strings. The men were mostly young. They were straight, well developed and fine looking, but nearly every one of them was more or less drunk. A feast was evidently go ing on. and each man had a long cala bash filled with banana beer which he was sucking at through two straws made for the purpose. In front of one of the huts a dozen musicians were dancing to music made upon, several great drums by men drum mers. I was anxious to buy one of these When Matilda Tried to Evade Hiram San Francisco Argonaut. .VTILDA," said Elizabeth, glanc ing over her spectacles from the Daily Cronicle, "Hiram's come." Matilda, bending over her hemstitch ing, turned in her chair to get a better light. Her hair, plentiful and prema turely white, hid from her sister the delicate pink that spread across her cheek. . "How do you know?" "It's In the paper. He arrived yester day. He's at the Fairmont." "At the Fairmont," repeated Matilda, with a slight exclamatory comment in her voice. Of course." replied Elizabeth. "Hi ram's gone up in the world, just as you and I ve rone down. The elder sister turned her paper vig orously, dismissing the subject with the sharp rattle of the sheet. The younger sat quiet, hemstitching at her handker chief, until the color had retired from her cheeks. Then she rose, went to the window by which Elizabeth was sitting, and opened it. The high fog of morning still hung in the air. but the sun had broken through the trailing veil of night, and shone with a thin warmth on the window-sill. Outside, it shone into the garden, where a tangle of old-fashioned flowers was bordered by narrow paths and bounded by a hedge of wild mallow. The warm, moist .air was full of fra grance, and the smell of lavender came strongly in the window. - - Elizabeth," said Matilda, gently, "I don't think it matters which way we've come," as long as we've Come here." The older woman looked up, and the asperity of her expression softened. She was about to speak, but was anticipated by the ringing of the telephone. "I'll answer," said Matilda. Elizabeth watched her go. "Come here!" she muttered to herself. "She loves that yard as if the things in It was alive. But it's all the same to me, up or down, so long as. she's con tent." She pushed up her spectacles and drummed on the window-sill with her kpotted fingers. If the rooms stayed rented, she reckoned, and all the lodgers paid. Matilda should have a new jacket for the Winter. "Elizabeth!" cried Matilda, standing in the doorway, her eyes as startled as her voice- "It was he!" "Who?" "Hiram." ' ' . The sisters stared at one another, each adjusting herself to her particular surprise. Elizabeth recovered first. "What did he say?" "He wanted1 to know if this was where the Misses Patten lived." "Well?" k "I told him no." What?" ' "I said he had the wrong- number and hung up." "Matilda Patten!" Elizabeth's tone was that of a last trumpet, struggling between denuncia tion and amazement. Matilda advanced a step courageously into the room. "You know, Elizabeth, we could ' not receive" him here." The elder sister scrutinzed the younger closely. "I declare," she concluded, "you're ashamed of our poverty!" "I am not." "What then? You think it indelicate at our age without a chaperone " "Elizabeth!" Matilda felt the blood prick in her fore head. "Well, why then?" "Our age, for one thing, if you must discuss the matter." "Our age!" "I haven't seen Hiram Bingham since I was a girl. I've no intention of seeing him now that I am old." "Shucks, Matilda, how you talk!" "I'm 42." "What's that amount to? You go around dressed in black and gray, and persist In wearing bonnets. You wouldn't look half so old if you'd wear the hat I got for you for Easter. "What, now? An Easter hat in Septem ber?" ' "You never have worn it." "Of course not. At my time of life, wearing it at all would be like trying to have an Easter in the Autumn. Elizabeth gazed at her sister as if she could find no words to express her dis approbation. And she was saved the need. The telephone rang again. The two stared at one another. "You go." said Matilda. "Indeed I won't. You baked this pie, and you' can eat it." f X V C reached above my waist as it stood upon the ground. It was as big around at the "Do you suppose it's Hiram?" Of course it's Hiram. Did you ever know him to give up anything he wanted? He'll keep at you till he finds you, now that he's set out to do it." "I do know of his giving up some thing he wanted," Matilda retorted, "and I guess he'll have to give up finding me, if I set out he shall." She flirted out of the room. Elizabeth sat quiet, gazing at nothing. Then she drew a long breath. "I wonder which of them two was the stubborner," she murmured. When Matilda came back, she askedf 'Is he coming to see us?" "No." "Didn't he ask to?" "He wanted to." "Didn't you invite him?" "I told him the Misses Patten were from home. I said they had gone to Coronado for a month. That's as good as the Fairmont, I guess. And he can't go to Coronado, because he's billed for Portland." "Matilda Patten! If you don't beat the Dutch! But who did he suppose you was. a-telling him all this?" "I said I was the housemaid." ""Whose housemaid?" "Ours, of course." ."But we ain't got a housemaid!" "That's Just why I-can be the house maid, isn't it?" Elizabeth shook her head, pulled down her spectacles, and rose. There were times when she could make noth- ing of Matilda. This was one of those times. She laid aside the Chronicle and went out without a word. Matilda knew she had gone to the kitchen to calm her feelings by getting lunch. At table, Elizabeth announced that She was going to wash the Angora. Matilda knew from this that her sis ter's feelings were still in need of calming. She- replied that she herself was going out. W hen her part of the noontime ritual which came as a consequence of the meal was over, she changed her dress and put on her bonnet. (The black strings contrasted with her white hair and gave an effect of restraint which she noted approvingly in the glass. As she went out tthe' door and through the garden, her heart was beating high, and she rejoiced that Elizabeth was too busy with the reluc tant Angora to ask where she was go ing. At the theater she found that she would have to sit either in the very front or very rear. She chose the front. For she knew she was changed beyond recognition, and she wanted to see him well. When he came on she gave such a Btart, letting her programme rattle to the floor, that her neghbors glanced at her concernedly. He was not the black-haired, red-cheeked youth she had known, the youth she had remem bered. His cheeks were 'colorless, his hair was gray. .ie had grown old. , He, too, had grown old. She picked up her programme and brought herself under control as he began to sing. The first note pierced into her soul. The others followed fleetly in. tilling her with such a rap ture of delight and woe as bore her quite outside herself. The round of clapping testified the audience's perception of the baritone's rotundity of tone. But It was not that that gripped her. It was the identity of quality with that she used to hear years ago, in New Hampshire, when he took her to prayer-meeting and sang off the same hymnbook by her side. She was thankful that the enthusiasm of her neighbors permitted her to wipe unseen the moisture from beneath her eyes. As song succeeded song, one emotion succeeded another in her breast. But at the end. as she came away through the storm of applause, her feeling was one of yearning pity. For he was old. Yes, he. too. was in September. When she reached home. Elizabeth was In the sitting-room, guarding the un happy hut very white Angora. She. was glad of the respite, for she realized, all at once, how hard it would be to make Klizabeth understand. She prolonged the changes in her toilet, and hastened to the front door, on the ring or its Den, tnann- ful also for this postponement. She opened the door for Hiram Bing ham. After a minute, during which he stood holding his hat, he asked: "Matilda, aren't you going to ask me in? "Of course. Hiram. Come right in Elizabeth is in the sitting-room." As he sat on the small chair, talking with her sister, Matilda observed how i X top as a flour barrel, narrowing to the size of a nail keg at the bottom. It had been hollowed out of a log. and the top and bottom were covered with goat skin, which was laced on with cords of gut. . It had evidently been used many years, and its sound was most resonant. I of fered the chief 10,000 shells for it, but he politely refused, saying that himself and his ancestors had had that drum a long time, and that he did not know, whether ho could get another as good. He told me that if he owned another he would give me this! But that, alas, he had only one. Bucoba, German East Africa. large," almost burly, he appeared. He was older, yes, but there was something about him indubitably boyish. Perhaps it was the same old, finely-shaped head with its firm lift from the shoulders. Suddenly he turned to her. "Do you know, I came very near not finding you? I telephoned twice this lr.orning." Matilda said nothing, feeling Eliza beth's eyes. "The first time didn't' matter, because, the party told me I had the wrong num ber. But the second time " In the pause, eloquent with exclama . tton. Matilda managed to emit a faint in terrogatory note. I got a housemaid who said the Misses Patten were at Coronado!". 'Extraordinary!" 'Yes, wasn't it? I must have got an other wrong number and the housemaid misunderstood the name. Of course, I supposed you had, and gave you up." "Then how" interrupted Elizabeth. But Matilda cut her short. "I'm so glad you found out you had the wrong number. How have you really been all these years?" "Well. And you?" "Well." "And neither of you has married." "You haven't either, have you?" "No."' In the- pause that followed. Elizabeth looked from one to the other through her spectacles. Then she spoke, firm and ineluctable. 'Hiram, I want to know how you found out we were here." 'I saw your address in the telephone book." 'No: I mean how you found out we were not at Coronado." "I saw Matilda at the theater." Elizabeth stared. "Matilda!" she trumpeted, "at the theater!" "Oh." snored Elizabeth, "that's noth ing uncommon." ' Matilda rose and put up the shades. "It's getting dark." she said. "Hiram,, you will stay to dinner?" "I shall be very happy." His answer was mechanical. He was looking at Elizabeth. "Miss Patten, may I ask what you meant by its not being uncommon for Matilda to be at the theater?" "She goes there regular. Leastwise to the opera. She goes to every operatic matinee." Hiram Bingham turned and looked at "Matilda." he said at last, "get your things, and we'll take a little walk." Matilda. "Yes," encouraged Elizabeth, "while I set out the dinner." Matilda hesitated, standing and look ing from one to the other. "Hiram." she said, "how did you know I was at the theater?" "I saw you." "And you knew me!" "Don't it look like it? Did you suppose I've ever forgot how you used to look when you came to school across the meadow in your bonnet?" Matilda flushed and glanced at her sis ter. "That," she said, going from the room, "was a sunbonnet." Hiram gazed after her intd the dark ness of the hall. Then he turned ab ruptly. "Miss Patten, do you go with Matilda to operas?" "Me! Land no!" "Why does she go?" - "I don't know as she's ever give a rea sonable excuse. It's a terrible extrava gance." "How long has she been doing it?" "Ever since we came to California, 15 years or more." "And to think she wouldn't marry me, 20 years ago, because I was set on going on the stage!" "Do you think it was just California?" "I don't know; California ain't changed, me." "And to think." he went on. "that I wouldn't give up the stage to marry her! Age changes folks some, too, I guess." .'Age! Now, Hiram, don't you pretend, as Matilda does, to being old. You both " "Hiram," said Matilda in the hall, "I'm ready." When ho had Joined her and the front door had closed behind them. Elizabeth adjusted her spectacles and looked out into the garden. "Land of Goshen!" she exclaimed.' "Spite of its being September, and the fog a-rolling in. if Matilda ain't gone and put on her Easter hat!"