Gateway to the Classics: The Country of the Dwarfs by Paul du Chaillu
 
The Country of the Dwarfs by  Paul du Chaillu

Hunting for the Dwarfs

A Modern traveler's account of the dwarfs and their habits.—Where and how they bury their dead.—Hunting for the dwarfs.—How they make their huts.

Now that I have told you what Herodotus and Homer wrote about the Dwarfs, let us come to a more modern account of them. We read the following in Rev. Dr. Krapf's "Travels and Missionary Labors in East Africa"

"Noteworthy are the reports which in the year 1840 were communicated to me by a slave from Enarea, who, by order of the King of Shoa, was charged with the care of my house in Angolala during my residence in Onkobez. His name was Dilbo, and he was a native of Sabba, in Enarea. As a youth, he had made caravan journeys to Kaffa, and accompanied the slave-hunters from Kaffa to Tuffte, in a ten-days' expedition, where they crossed the Omo, some sixty feet wide, by means of a wooden bridge, reaching from thence to Kullu in seven days, which is but a few days' journey from the Dokos, a Pigmy race of whom Dilbo told almost fabulous stories" (p. 50).

Then Dr. Krapf gives an account of Dilbo, which does not bear on the subject, and then continues:

"He told me that to the south of Kaffa and Sura there is a very sultry and humid country, with many bamboo woods (meaning, no doubt, palm-trees), inhabited by the race called Dokos, who are no bigger than boys ten years old; that is, only four feet high. They have a dark olive-colored complexion, and live in a completely savage state, like the beasts, having neither houses, temples, no holy trees, like the Gallas, yet possessing something like, an idea of a higher being, called Yer, to whom, in moments of wretchedness and anxiety, they pray, not in a erect posture, but reversed, with the head on the ground, and the feet supported upright against a tree or stone. In prayer they say, 'Yer, if thou really dost exist, whys dost thou allow us thus to be slain? We do not ask thee, for food and clothing, for we live on serpents, ants, ands mice. Thou hast made us, why dost thou permit us to be trodden under foot?' The Dokos have a chief, no laws, no weapons. They do not hunt nor till the ground„ but live solely on fruits, roots, mice, serpents, ants, honey, and the like, climbing trees and gathering the fruits like monkeys, and both sexes go completely naked. They have thick protruding lips, flat noses, and small eyes The hair is not woolly, and is won by the women over the shoulders. The nails on the hands and feet are allowed to grow like the talons of vultures, and are used in digging for ants, and in tearing to pieces the serpents, which they devour raw, for they are unacquainted with fire. The spine of the snake is the only ornament worn around the neck, but they pierce the ears with a sharp-pointed piece of wood."

Then Dr. Krapf adds that they are never sold beyond Enarea, and continues as follows:

"Yet I can bear witness that I heard of these little people not only in Shoa, but also in Ukambani, two degrees to the south; and in Barava, a degree and a half to the north of the equator. In Barava a slave was shown to me who accorded completely with the description of Dilbo. He was four feet high, very thick set, dark complexioned, and lively, and the people of the place assured me that he was of the Pigmy race of the interior. It is not impossible, too, that circumstances, such as continual rains from May to January; and other means, may contribute to produce a diminutive people of stunted development in the interior of Africa. A priori, therefore; the reports collected from different and mutually independent points of Africa can not be directly contradicted, only care must be taken to examine with caution the fabulous element mixed up with what may be true by native reporters. In the Suali dialect 'dogo' means small, and in the language of Enarea 'doko' is indicative of an ignorant and stupid person."

Now I think; though Dr. Krapf was a long way from where I was, that his Dwarfs must be the same people as the Obongos, though they do not bear the same name; but you must remember that the Obongos are called by three different names by other tribes. It is true the Dwarf he saw was very black, but then there may be some Dwarfs much darker than others, just as some negroes are darker than others.

Then I said to the Ashango interpreter, "Ask the little Obongos where they bury their dead." I wanted, to know, though I did not tell him why. I wanted the skeleton of an Obongo to bring home, and I would have been willing to give a thousand dollars for one.

"Don't ask such a question of the Obongos," said he. "And why?" I inquired.

"Because," he answered, "they would be so frightened they would all run away. Even we ourselves, the Ashangos, who are their friends, know not where they bury then dead, and I will tell you why: they are afraid that the Ashangos would steal the skulls of the dead people for fetiches, and if they could procure but one they would always know where the Obongos were in the forest."

"Tell me," said I, "how they bury their dead."

"When an Obongo dies," said my Ashango friend, "there is great sorrow among the Dwarfs, and the men are sent into every part of the forest to find a tall tree which is hollow at the top. If they find one, they come back to the settlement and say, 'We have found a tree with a hollow.' Then the people travel into the forest guided, by the man who has found the hollow tree, and taking with them the body of the dead Obongo. When they have reached the spot, some of them ascend the tree, carrying with them creepers to be used as cords for drawing up the body, and the corpse is then drawn and deposited in the hollow, which is immediately filled with earth, and dry leaves, and twigs of trees."

"But," said I, "big hollow trees, such as you have been speaking of, are not found every day. If they do not find one, what then?"

"It is so, Oguizi. Sometimes they can not find a big hollow tree; then," said my Ashango guide, "they wander into the forest, far from paths and villages, in search of a little stream, which they turn from its natural bed, and then dig in it a big, deep hole, wherein they bury the body of the Obongo, after which they bring back the water to its own bed again, and the water forever and ever runs over the grave of the Obongo, and no one can ever tell where the grave of the Obongo is."

"Why," said I to myself," this way of burying an Obongo reminds me of the burial of Attila."

This is all I know of the way the Obongos bury their dead, and this was told me by the Ashangos. The Obongos, who had seen me holding so long a talk with the Ashangos, began to appear frightened, and asked what we had been talking about. The Ashangos answered that we had been talking about hunting wild beasts. After awhile we departed, apparently good friends with them, but not before promising the Obongos that I would come again and see them.

The next day I went hunting in order to kill meat and bring it to the Dwarfs, and their delight was great when I brought them five monkeys. A little while after I had put the monkeys on the ground I said," Dwarfs, let us be good friends. Don't you see that I do not desire to kill you or capture you? I wish only to know you well. Every time I come to see you I bring you food and nice things." "That is so," said the Dwarfs, headed by my friend Misounda.

The hours passed away, and as evening approached I said, "Dwarfs, what do you say to my spending the night in your settlement, and going back to-morrow to Niembouai?" "Muiri! muiri!" said the Dwarfs, and immediately a little house was given me for the night. I was glad, for I wanted to be able to say when I came back home that I had slept in a house of the Dwarfs.

The little Dwarfs went into the woods to collect firewood for me, and to look after their traps. After a while they came back, and they, too, brought food. Misounda brought me a basket of wild berries, and the other Obongos presented me game, consisting of three, beautiful fat rats, a nice little mouse, one squirrel, two fish, and a piece of snake. They laid these things before me. To please them, I ordered, the squirrel to be cooked on a bright charcoal fire, and how delighted they were to see me eat it. How they shouted when they saw me take mouthful after, mouthful!

The sun went down behind the trees; and soon after it was dark in the village of the Dwarfs. I could see that they were, still afraid of me. They had an idea that probably I wanted to capture some of them. At last the time came for me to go to bed. I had some trouble to get through the hole and when I was inside I lay down on my bed made of sticks, and put my head on my revolvers as a pillow. I had a little fire lighted so that the smoke would drive the musquitoes away, and, before lying down, I looked round to see if there were any snakes. You must always take that precaution in that part of the world. The Dwarfs kept awake all night outside of their huts, for they were not yet certain that I had not come to capture some of them.

Their little huts were of a low, oval shape, like gipsy tents. The lowest part, that nearest the entrance, was about four feet from the ground; the greatest breadth was also four feet. On each side were three or four sticks for the man and woman to sleep upon. The huts were made of flexible branches of trees, arched over fixed into the ground, the longest branches being in middle, and the others successively shorter, the whole being covered with large leaves.


[Illustration]

Dinner with the dwarfs.

The next morning the Ashangos and the Dwarfs went into the forest to look after the traps they had made to capture game.

As the time of our departure from Niembouai had arrived, I said to the Dwarfs that I must bid them good-by, for I was going away toward where the sun rises. "Now you see," said I, "you have always been afraid of me. Tell me, have I done harm to any one of you?" "No, no," they exclaimed; "no, no," said my friend Misounda. So I shook hands with them, and they said to me in parting, "You will see more little Dwarfs in the countries where you are going. Be kind to them, as you have been to us."

As I walked on through the jungle, my mind kept dwelling on the strange Obongos. "If you want one of them to take away with you," said my Ashango guide, "we will capture one for you, if you will give us beads and copper rings." "No, no," said I, "the Spirit does not want to capture people; he wants only to see people."

Now I must tell you what I think of these Obongos. I think that they are the very same people of whom Herodotus and Homer had heard; that they are closely allied to the Bushmen of South Africa, for the hair on their heads grows in the same way; only they are darker in color, and in that respect seem to be a shade between the negro and the Bushman. They are also a little shorter in stature than the Bushmen, and I have a strong belief that in times past they belonged probably to the same nation.

And now we must take leave of the Dwarfs, for I am to talk to you of the great negro tribes in whose country the little creatures live. If I should learn any thing more about the Dwarfs as I go forward, I will surely relate it to you.


 Table of Contents  |  Index  |  Home  | Previous: Making Friends with the Dwarfs  |  Next: An Unlucky Shot
Copyright (c) 2005 - 2023   Yesterday's Classics, LLC. All Rights Reserved.