A voice from the Congo : comprising stories, anecdotes, and descriptive notes . ncyto view such sights, and to be surrounded by suchassociations as those depicted by Bulelu. The kill-ing of a wild animal in that far-off country is a farmore memorable event than the slaughter of a humanbeing. And yet there is nothing in this lads mannersuggestive of a savage disposition; on the contrary,he appears gentle and kind. His voice was soft andmusical, and his bearing is respectful. The only out-ward token of his barbarism, apart from the tribalmark, or dikwala, cicatrised upon his face, and hispointed
A voice from the Congo : comprising stories, anecdotes, and descriptive notes . ncyto view such sights, and to be surrounded by suchassociations as those depicted by Bulelu. The kill-ing of a wild animal in that far-off country is a farmore memorable event than the slaughter of a humanbeing. And yet there is nothing in this lads mannersuggestive of a savage disposition; on the contrary,he appears gentle and kind. His voice was soft andmusical, and his bearing is respectful. The only out-ward token of his barbarism, apart from the tribalmark, or dikwala, cicatrised upon his face, and hispointed teeth, was to be found in the peculiarlyevasive expression of his bloodshot eyes. Have you many relatives ? I inquired of Bulelu,anxious to ascertain whether the superstitious scru-ples which prevent most Central Africans from men-tioning the names of the dead would still influencehim under the present circumstances. Four brothers, by the same mother. Is your father living? Bulelu grunted twice,and shook his open hand, to imply a negative answer. What was your fathers name?. A Congo chief From a bronze statue by the Author (Gold Medal, Paris Salon, 1908) THE IMPRESSIONS OF BULELU 205 Again Bulelu grunted, and replied evasively: Iwas very small at the time. lie was a chieftain,with many slaves, and twenty-five wives, but mymother was his only wife that bore children. Anevil spirit entered his heart, and he died from sleep. I may here mention that the fatal sleeping sickness,known to the natives as Bokono, is very prevalentthroughout the Congo country. Notwithstanding allmy endeavours, I failed to elicit the name of Bulelusfather. Would you be satisfied to live always in thiscountry, Bulelu ? All things are good here. Inyour country you have but little pleasure. Bulelu stared thoughtfully at the fish in the river,and then replied simply: I am lonely. Apparently, he was picturing to himself the glareof the tropical sun upon the feathery palm-trees;the dusky figures of his kinsmen
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