Was true, as he had been very filthy
before my arrival; but Umbogo was persuaded that the difference between
white and black people was caused by the fact of our ancestors having
always used soap, while the blacks used only plain water. This
ethnological fact having been established, I gave him a small piece, to
his great delight, as he expressed his intention to become a white man.
I was always chatting with Umbogo and the various chiefs, especially
with my favourite, Kittakara, who was Kabba Rega's most confidential
counsellor. They gave me a graphic account of the royal funeral that had
taken place a few months ago, when Kamrasi has interred.
When a king of Unyoro dies, the body is exposed upon a framework of
green wood, like a gigantic gridiron, over a slow fire. It is thus
gradually dried, until it resembles an over-roasted hare.
Thus mummified, it is wrapped in new bark-cloths, and lies in state
within a large house built specially for its reception.
The sons fight for the throne. The civil war may last for years, but
during this period of anarchy, the late king's body lies still unburied.
At length, when victory has decided in favour of one of his sons, the
conqueror visits the hut in which his father's body lies in state. He
approaches the corpse, and standing by its side, he sticks the butt-end
of his spear in the ground, and leaves it thus fixed near the right hand
of the dead king. This is symbolical of victory.
The son now ascends the throne, and the funeral of his father must be
his first duty.
An immense pit or trench is dug, capable of containing several hundred
people.
This pit is neatly lined with new bark-cloths.
Several wives of the late king are seated together at the bottom, to
bear upon their knees the body of their departed lord.
The night previous to the funeral, the king's own regiment or body-guard
surround many dwellings and villages, and seize the people
indiscriminately as they issue from their doors in the early morning.
These captives are brought to the pit's mouth.
Their legs and arms are now broken with clubs, and they are pushed into
the pit on the top of the king's body and his wives.
An immense din of drums, horns, flageolets, whistles, mingled with the
yells of a frantic crowd, drown the shrieks of the sufferers, upon whom
the earth is shovelled and stamped down by thousands of cruel fanatics,
who dance and jump upon the loose mould so as to form it into a compact
mass; through which the victims of this horrid sacrifice cannot grope
their way, the precaution having been taken to break the bones of their
arms and legs.
