I Jumped At The Prospect Of Seeing
The Wa Taita At Home, So Presently Off We
Started On Our Heavy Climb, My Indian Servant,
Bhawal, Coming With Us.
After a couple of hours'
steady scramble up a steep and slippery goatpath,
we arrived at M'gogo's capital, where I was
at once introduced to his wives, who were busily
engaged in making pombe (a native fermented
drink) in the hollowed-out stump of a tree.
I
presented one of them with an orange for her
child, but she did not understand what it was
for on tasting it she made a wry face and would
not eat it. Still she did not throw it away, but
carefully put it into a bag with her other treasures
- doubtless for future investigation. As soon as
the women saw Bhawal, however, he became
the centre of attraction, and I was eclipsed.
He happened to have on a new puggaree, with
lots of gold work on it, and this took their fancy
immensely; they examined every line most
carefully and went into ecstasies over it - just as
their European sisters would have done over the
latest Parisian creation.
We made a short halt for rest and refreshment,
and then started again on our journey to the top
of the hills. After a stiff climb for another two
hours, part of it through a thick black forest, we
emerged on the summit, where I found I was well
rewarded for my trouble by the magnificent views
we obtained on all sides. The great Kilima
N'jaro stood out particularly well, and made a
very effective background to the fine panorama.
I was surprised to find a number of well-fed cattle
on the mountain top, but I fancy M'gogo thought
I was casting an evil spell over them when he
saw me taking photographs of them as they
grazed peacefully on the sweet grass which
covered the plateau.
Like most other natives of Africa, the Wa Taita
are exceedingly superstitious, and this failing is
turned to good account by the all-powerful "witch-doctor"
or "medicine-man." It is, for instance,
an extraordinary sight to see the absolute faith
with which a Ki Taita will blow the simba-dawa,
or "lion medicine ", to the four points of the
compass before lying down to sleep in the
open. This dawa - which is, of course,
obtainable only from the witch-doctor - consists simply
of a little black powder, usually carried in a
tiny horn stuck
through a slit in
the ear; but the
Ki Taita firmly
believes that a
few grains of this
dust blown round him from the palm of the hand
is a complete safeguard against raging lions
seeking whom they may devour; and after the
blowing ceremony he will lie down to sleep in
perfect confidence, even in the midst of a man-eater's
district. In the nature of things, moreover,
he never loses this touching faith in the
efficacy of the witch-doctor's charm; for if he is
attacked by a lion, the brute sees to it that he
does not live to become an unbeliever, while if
he is not attacked, it is of course quite clear that
it is to the dawa that he owes his immunity.
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