CHAPTER VIII.

FIRST HALF. JULY 1878-DEC. 1878.

_Weekly work._—On Sunday morning, I devoted my attention to the revisal of Yao discourses and prayers prepared during the previous week. The first discourse had to be given at nine o’clock in the morning. It was chiefly a translation of some passage of Scripture, with one or two remarks for the purpose of explaining or applying the subject. I stuck to the Scripture itself as much as possible. After this I prepared for our English service at two P.M., which was conducted after the method usual at home. Next I had to revise my Yao discourse for the evening service. Every week-day except Saturday I took the school from eight to ten, the last half hour being occupied with the more advanced pupils. At ten we breakfasted; and till two P.M. I was occupied with various items. A long time was spent over the language. There was a meeting for the natives every evening, and I required nearly the whole day to prepare for it, having not only to find words, but to verify their application. As the boys that assisted me could not speak a sentence of English, my task was difficult. I found it necessary to use signs, nor was it easy to devise suitable ones. After earnest endeavours I often failed to make the natives understand me. Then I practised my signals before a European, and he could not understand them either, and what was worse could suggest no improvement. I sometimes felt as helpless in my efforts to talk with a native before me as if I had been still in Scotland.

At two o’clock school was resumed till four. I had not much difficulty in sustaining the attention of a class of twenty-two, a fact which said much for the docility of the pupils. At four o’clock we dined, and after dinner I again prepared busily for the native meeting at six. At its close we had time for a short walk in what would be the twilight at home. We generally went to one or other of our three villages for the purpose of talking a little with the villagers, and making them feel at home with us. At seven P.M. we had evening prayers, and after that my time was free for linguistic studies. We proposed at first to have classes for mutual instruction in the native tongue, but it was soon felt that each man must study by himself before there could be any instructor. The language became the largest part of my work. The Scripture readings I gave took a great deal of time. I found it interesting work, and was always delighted to get hold of a new word. Occasionally I got words for which I could find no exact English equivalent, and in that case I had to construct a kind of mental formula. Sometimes I made best progress in translating the Old Testament, although I chiefly tried the Gospels.

The school-children, as a rule, are very agreeable with each other. I have seen few cases of strife, and these were easily quieted. The very fact of making a formal examination settled everything. In one case, where a little boy complained of a bigger one, I first instituted a long, solemn inquiry, to see whether the bigger one was to blame; when it was found that he was, he, rather to his astonishment, was sent out to bring a bamboo! Then followed a long dissertation on the bamboo, in which I pointed out how it would hurt and cut. By this time, the little boy had tears in his eyes, and said he did not wish the other one to be punished; which was the very effect I aimed at. But after a time this failed. On asking a boy whether he wished a companion beaten, I would often receive the answer, “I do not know, you, father, know best”. As girls came to the station, Mrs. Macdonald took them under her care, she had first to improve their habits and get them to wash their own clothes. Soap was a great novelty to the natives; they were much amused with the peculiar “feel” it gave to clothes. They thought it was a kind of clothes “medicine,” and trusted more to its magic than to their own rubbing. They used to dye their cloth black, a custom which made washing unnecessary. But after becoming acquainted with soap, men and women made a great rush upon the commodity, and notwithstanding every care in distributing, our six tins of soft soap were speedily reduced to two, and we had great anxiety as to what should be done when the two remaining tins shared the fate of their predecessors. The natives began to like the coloured clothes which were sent out. A box of clothes was a great acquisition. Shirts, trousers, and blankets were eagerly sought after, and some of the workers accepted these as payment in preference to calico, while our pupils regarded them as the best kind of prizes.

_Visiting._—On Saturday mornings, accompanied by a little boy, called Walani, I used to visit native villages. On these occasions I was much impressed with the African’s powers of observation. Once we had gone a great distance and were very tired. We came to a little hill, from the top of which we saw smoke, which guided us to a quiet little hamlet. As we were approaching, I wondered whether the villagers would know anything of the “white men” at all. Here they lived in a wild spot, apparently without communication with the rest of the world. I was surprised to find that at this distance (at least six miles), they at once called Walani by his name, and knew about all the Englishmen on the station. In such villages I endeavoured to speak about the God of heaven; and the people looked thoughtful, and were quite disposed to listen. The natives are by no means a stupid people, and I should not like to hear them called utter savages. Certain it is that had they been acquainted with writing and other contrivances, chiefly of a mechanical nature, they would have presented a very different appearance. They seem to stand before us as a people destitute of every religious observance. But this may be accounted for by their want of men set apart for religion. It is with them only what it might be with any people destitute of books, and without a form of church government. Besides, in judging the natives we ought to bear in mind how easy it is to proceed upon incomplete observation. The other day I made a discovery which surprised me very much. Though for three months I had been teaching girls to read, I did not know that they carried a number of little stones in the mouth! The other Europeans were equally ignorant of the custom. Still it is the fact that all the native girls carry from six to ten little pebbles under the tongue. They told me it was for the purpose of making them speak well! After this it would not astonish me to discover one day a complex ritual among the natives! Meanwhile, in their constant cheerfulness and kindness to each other, we find aspects of character that true religion would inculcate; nay, more, may we not see in these features of their disposition, some traces of the working of that πνευμα which “bloweth where it listeth”? At this time I wrote: “We have made little progress in setting the Bible truths before them as a system. As yet I have found no words to express the ideas of trust, faith, substitution, mercy, or justice. Hitherto I have stated the simple narratives of Christ’s life. But I am confident that they would appreciate trains of reasoning, and be as able to follow the Epistle of the Romans as ordinary people are at home.”

I add now small cuttings from my journal which will give a general idea of our life at this period.

_Saturday, Nov. 16._—In the morning before 10 o’clock I had a walk with Walani, now called John MacRae, for the purpose of learning the language, and speaking to any people we might find in the villages. John is now fond of plucking all the flowers he sees, in order to take them home to Mrs. Macdonald. A few months ago the natives laughed at the idea of gathering flowers, but now they are rather fond of doing so. The boys, under Mrs. Macdonald’s more immediate care, put up bunches in their bedrooms.

_Sunday, Nov. 17._—Maseo, one of the Magololo chiefs, arrived on a visit: he was accompanied by two of his wives and one of his sons. He was present at our evening service. Having been a long time with Dr. Livingstone he knows a few English words, and likes to use them, _e.g._, “thank you,” “look here,” &c.

_Monday, Nov. 18._—The chief comes to breakfast, and we get a great deal of practice in trying to converse with him. He speaks both Yao and Chinyasa.

_Tuesday, Nov. 19._—We had a “Magic-lantern entertainment”. The chief recognised Dr. Livingstone, and stood up before the screen to have a good view. His two wives visited Mrs. Macdonald in the forenoon, and got a present of a dress each, and listened to some music.

We received the report of a mwai case which resulted in the death of an old man who lived beside us. I found that our schoolboys all believed in the mwai, and I began to argue against the superstition. We happened at the time to be poisoning rats, and I asked whether the rats died because they were “bewitchers!” The little fellows appreciated the illustration very much, but still retained this faith of their fathers.

_Wednesday, Nov. 20._—A man came and asked leave to “_propose_” to a woman that Mrs. Macdonald has been training to do washing and other household duties. The woman in question came up much disappointed. She seemed to fear that she would be compelled to marry in the native fashion,—_i.e._, without having any choice in the matter. She admitted that she was willing to marry, but said that she wanted another man. When we stated that she might certainly marry the man she preferred, she went away highly satisfied.

_Thursday, Nov. 21._—Four couples paid me a visit in the forenoon, expecting to be married on the spot. After trying to explain the nature of marriage, I told them to come back next day. Mrs. Macdonald’s servant was among the number, and seemed to be the ringleader.

_Friday, Nov. 22._—Four marriages were celebrated in the schoolroom with as great solemnity as possible. I should have put on a pulpit-gown if I had possessed one. We killed a goat for the occasion, and presented each of the ladies with a dress. Dr. Macklin gave each man a knife. All the previous marriages on the station had been civil marriages, which were arranged by the Doctor. These cases were almost semi-christian marriages.

In the evening two other men asked for wives. We inquired whether the ladies had agreed, and presently they were brought up to declare their consent. But the men had no houses, and the marriages were deferred till houses could be built. The females said they were willing to wait.

_Saturday, Nov. 23._—We discovered that one of the men married yesterday had another wife. We had been particularly careful to enforce that this could not be; and therefore, partly as a punishment for his unblushing falsehood, we executed a summary sentence of banishment on him. His other wife was on bad terms with her rival. The man that was refused the other day by Mrs. Macdonald’s servant, now comes to say that he has found a wife; and that there may be no mistake this time, he brings the lady with him. As he has no house, the marriage is deferred till its erection.

I paid a visit to various villages for the purpose of getting more children to school; I met a few naked boys playing beside a stream, who said they would come. They looked at my umbrella, and seemed to be astonished at the folding up of it. As usual on such occasions, I showed them my watch, which has been exhibited so often that I begin to regard it more as a magic-box than a timepiece.

_Monday, Nov. 25._—One nice boy has been added to school as a result of Saturday’s visit.

The chief takes his departure. We pressed him to send his boys to school, and he said “he would _dream_ about it”. He tells us that the Magololo chiefs are much guided by dreams. After some talk on the subject, we gave him a parting present, with the view of inducing a favourable dream!

_Tuesday, Nov. 26._—A messenger came from Chiputula, accompanied by two of the chiefs sons, and carrying a present of goats and bananas. A Yao man had run off with one of Chiputula’s wives and a gun. Kapeni is the man’s chief. Chiputula wishes the English to tell Kapeni that if he does not deliver up the offender Chiputula will make war.

_Wednesday, Nov. 27._—Mrs. Macdonald took up Chiputula’s two sons, and entertained them with books, music, and sweetmeats. She was much pleased with the two little princes of the Ruo.

_Thursday, Nov. 28._—Dr. Macklin went over to Sochi to see Kapeni concerning Chiputula’s message. But the old chief was not to be found. The Dr. thought he was at home, nevertheless, and left a message for him to come to Blantyre.

_Friday, Nov. 29._—Kapeni sent a message to ask for an interview at a half-way village. He requested me to come “because I could speak Yao!” I started at 6·30 in the morning, and reached Kapeni very early. He gave the utmost satisfaction, and professed much friendship for Chiputula.

But I believe he bears a secret grudge against us for the protection given to run-away slaves of his. This subject is a delicate one. It looks very well to give protection to slaves when they come and say they are going to be sold. Yet the relation between a chief and his servants is one of the things that go to form the social order of these tribes; and by treating the matter rashly, we may bring about a great deal of anarchy.

_Friday, Dec. 6._—Mrs. Macdonald’s sewing-class contains twelve girls, who seem very willing to learn. We had some difficulty in obtaining female pupils, as the Yao girls are engaged at a very early age, and after such engagement they are not so free as they would otherwise be. Many of our female pupils are slave girls who have come here for protection; they live on the station, and as they increase in number, they will require a female monitor for themselves. At present the care of them gives us much anxiety; only they marry as soon as they find a husband.

All our earlier intercourse with the natives brought before us the cheerful side of their character. I found them always full of fun. As they have no difficulty in procuring food, clothes, or houses, they suffer from none of the cares that press so heavily on Europeans. Still, we discovered that they had their troubles too. The first occasion I saw any sorrow, was in connection with death. It was about seven o’clock in the morning when a message came from a father asking me to be present at the interment of his little child. On enquiring when the funeral would take place, I found that it was to be immediately. On going to the village, we saw that a few of the man’s neighbours had assembled, and were waiting for our arrival. As soon as the Englishmen had all come, two natives entered the house. Here the little child was stretched upon a bamboo mat, with a piece of calico thrown over its body. The mother lay mourning on the side of the mat. The father we had already passed sitting outside the house with a few men round him. He took no farther part in the funeral ceremony; contrary to our expectation, he did not accompany the body to its last resting-place. The two natives that went inside removed the calico from the child’s body, then they folded the mat round the corpse, and tied it up so that the whole formed a small cylindrical parcel. After this the men came to the outside again and washed their hands very carefully. They did this, not for the purpose of ordinary cleanliness (natives are not so careful in this respect), it was a ceremonial act, deemed necessary after touching the dead. Two men now took up the body, and carried it the whole way. The headman of the village seemed to think it was his place to follow next the bearers. Some of us had an idea that the child would be interred near the house, but the procession went on to a time-consecrated burying-ground. Once or twice the bearers seemed to lose their way, and then the headman went to the front and carefully examined the paths. When at length they arrived at their destination, we were puzzled to find that no little grave had been dug. The body was then laid down under one of the large trees, and the headman came and asked what was the English method of burial. We said that we wished them to bury after their own manner, only we took the opportunity of stating that when the English were buried a prayer was offered up to God. Then we engaged briefly in prayer.

By this time a procession of females approached. They had been following us all the way at a short distance. At their head came the child’s mother, who was supported by two other women. As soon as she arrived she sat down nearest the body of her child, while her companions threw themselves on the grass beside her. The little band of females looked more like mourners than did the men, for the latter sometimes talked and laughed more than would be considered proper at an English funeral. The women carried a few earthen pots to place on the grave. A Yao burial-ground is easily known by the number of pots that are there. The place where we stood was covered with pots as thickly as a home churchyard is with tombstones. The men now began to break up the ground for a grave, while the women watched the sad work. On asking how deep they made it, we found that it was to be about three feet. After watching their work for a while, we concluded that they would take three hours to complete it, and we requested to be excused from waiting longer. Then we all shook hands with the mother, and tried to comfort her. She had been throwing dust upon her person as a sign of her sorrow. Before leaving, we enquired whether an English implement would not be better than their hoes. They heartily assented to this, and despatched one of their number to bring a spade. In the evening I went down to see the mother, and tried to speak to her. From what I could gather, she seemed to think that she would meet her child again (10). How much I wished that I had been able to use their language, so as to bring home to their minds all the comforting truths about that child’s great Elder Brother! Had we been able to stay till the burial took place, we might have seen some more instructive rites. I wondered whether their ceremonial washing spake of some connection in their minds, or in the minds of their fathers, between physical death and moral pollution (or sin): and whether the pots placed on the grave spake of a hope that the activities of their owner were not ended for ever.

_A murder._—The next funeral I saw was much sadder. The female mourners wrung their hands and shed tears of grief and despair. The men attended in great numbers, and their dark faces spoke of rage and determination. The previous evening a poor woman had gone to the stream to wash her maize. About sunset a gun was heard, which, however, caused no concern. Though the woman had not come back the villagers did not miss her, and retired to bed as usual. But at night they heard the cries of a child, and discovered one little creature wandering alone in the darkness, and weeping for its mother. The villagers immediately arose and hastened to the stream, where they soon found the woman’s dress and her basket of grain, but the woman herself was nowhere seen.

That night the Missionaries on the Station were all sitting together after evening prayers. It was Christmas time, and our friends had come down from Livingstonia. We had received no letters from England for three months, the natives of Mazaro had rebelled against the Portuguese, and war had put an end to all communication. Matters were looking dark. We had no calico to pay native labour, the little that remained was required for buying the necessaries of life, and as it was nearly exhausted, starvation loomed in the distance. The white men were seriously talking of an expedition to get up goods, when a loud rap was heard at the door. “The mail! here’s the mail!” was shouted, but it was Kumlomba with half-a-dozen of his villagers. In great excitement he rushed forward and threw down at the Doctor’s feet the bit of calico that had been the woman’s covering, as he exclaimed, “My child is dead!” This unexpected “mail” took the breath from us all. We tried to calm the poor man. “There was no evidence,” we argued, “that the woman had been killed. A slave-gang was being made up by Kapeni’s people—it was certain she had been caught for slavery.” A celebrated lawyer said to a novice who was going to act at a trial, “Give your opinion boldly, but don’t give any reasons for it: your opinion may be correct, but your reasons will almost certainly be wrong”. The advice is noteworthy, and often have I thought of it when dealing with an African: what he states in expressing his belief is generally right, what he adds by way of argument is often wrong, and it seems doubly so to persons unacquainted with the native mind. Kumlomba said a few things that appeared very disjointed to Europeans, and confirmed our belief that the woman was still alive. The chief listened to us with patience but did not seem satisfied.

Next morning the mystery was solved—the woman was found lying dead in the stream without any clothing, and brutally mutilated (36). The Doctors were soon informed, who examined the body, and told the people to bury it. After the funeral was over, Kumlomba and other natives, as also all the Europeans, met to discuss what ought to be the method of procedure on this sad occurrence. The natives were only too familiar with such cases, and some of the Europeans had been three years in the country, and were well acquainted with native law. They agreed that a message must be sent to Kapeni asking him to give up the guilty party. On being thus appealed to, Kapeni convened an enormous meeting of his people at Sochi. He there stated that he had not yet discovered who the assassin was, but he assured us that as the Yao people always “talked,” everyone would know in a few days. But according to native law, Kapeni must either deliver up the assassin or forfeit the friendship of the Mission people. Being anxious to find a third alternative, he asked, what would happen if he could not find the man, but native law appeared to recognise no such neutral ground. In the end two sticks were brought, and the question was asked, “Which of these does Kapeni choose?” Finally, he agreed to give up the assassin. But he was in no haste to do so; nor was this wonderful, since the Ndilande people threatened to kill him if he attempted to fulfil his promise. After a long delay, Kumlomba became impatient, and went over himself unaccompanied by any European. Kapeni asked him whether he had not heard all about it: for by this time the truth was generally known, but Kumlomba stood on his dignity and kept to the previous question, “Give up the man”. One thing was remarkable about this visit. The Englishmen always admitted, at least for the sake of argument, that Kapeni might not know the man, but Kumlomba refused to entertain the supposition, and in fact Kapeni did not dare to urge this plea upon him. Kumlomba said among other things, “Don’t take _me_ for a white man. I am a Yao like yourself, and I know all the customs of my country.” The natives about us were strangely unanimous in asserting that Kapeni knew who was guilty. They led us to understand that he had received a present from the murderer, and had granted him absolution. Of course few of us were then old enough to know even that the natives shaved their heads in a case of ordinary death, much less that they observed a complicated ritualism for murder. Kumlomba did not ask Kapeni to punish the criminal. Such a demand would have been abhorrent to native custom. The chief is the father of his people, and native law is too polite to ask a man to execute justice on his own son. The native custom, moreover, is in accordance with native religion. A man’s deceased relatives become his gods. While Kumlomba persisted in demanding his rights at this meeting, one of Kapeni’s counsellors said to him:—

“Why should you come bothering Kapeni, the men live beside yourselves?”

Soon after this the assassins were captured, but although Kumlomba insisted, “Give them over to us and we will kill them,” which would have been native law pure and simple, the Europeans that were present, not being accustomed to see human beings killed with so little ceremony, refused to do so. By this step they did credit to their own humane feelings, but they transgressed native custom. Kumlomba was but ill satisfied when about a month after, in the execution of native justice, he levelled his musket at one of the men—the other having meanwhile escaped. His view was that besides killing this man he ought to have got “six people”. The six people, or slaves, he fixed as the ransom of the person that had escaped. By native law he was entitled to damages of this kind. I have known Kapeni himself concede larger demands.

One effect of the execution was to bring in an enormous number not only of slave refugees but also of free people who wanted to live near the English. In a short time the population of Kumlomba’s village became about five times as many. The slaves that escaped were aware that they exposed themselves to the danger of assassination. But at the beginning of this case had not one Missionary of the greatest standing told them that an Englishman considered the life of a black person as precious as his own life, and that it was a murderer himself that ought to die for his deed, and not “two or three” of his slaves (96)? In this unsettled land these statements somehow were much prized both by bond and free.

Another effect of the case was to terrify Kapeni from coming to Blantyre. Happening to be at Kapeni’s about a month after, I found him from home. I asked his son when he was coming to see us, and received the answer, “The Ndilande people say that they will kill him if he go to Blantyre”. The Ndilande people had wished Kapeni to be more decided, and to refuse to negociate against them. The old man had wavered. In such circumstances a native must feel it hard to come to a conclusion. He cannot tell by inspection which course will be most for his interest. Nor can he talk with any certainty of eternal and immutable morality. No wonder that amidst this thick darkness and painful suspense he attempts to confer with the spirits of his fathers (14).

But while Kapeni had a duty to perform in giving up the transgressor, whose duty was it to punish him? Kumlomba asserted that it was for him to deal with the case. As this man was my instructor in the native language at the time, I was thrown much into his society, and I heard him declare that he wanted to take the whole responsibility. Besides he had carried out a capital sentence long before. It might be true that in the eyes of Englishmen these negroes looked bad dispensers of equity. Some of the Portuguese also said that it was not right for the Mission to allow savages to figure as administrators of justice. Still the natives had dispensed their own laws for hundreds of years.

But at Blantyre was there not a Colony as well as a Mission, and had not the Colony power to punish? Undoubtedly the Blantyre settlement was established on this principle, and when Dr. Macklin wrote to the Convener of the Committee giving an account of the occurrence, and stating his determination to give judgment on the murderer, the latter at once agreed with the Doctor’s reasons, remarking that the native mind would accord with the doom decreed, while he ever afterwards defended the execution on the supposition that it was the duty of the Colony to carry it out. But against this position it was argued that it was not lawful for British subjects to punish transgressors without the authority of the Government. This objection was found to be serious, though it did not occur to any worker in Africa. Even the promoters of the settlement, many of whom were legal men, seem to have overlooked this difficulty though they had by them books on statute law of which there were none in the desert. But though I for one never thought of statute law, I had once read carefully the old Acts of the Scottish General Assembly, and though I had no books of authority by me I was aware that clergymen had been censured or deposed for acting as magistrates, and I mentioned to the others that I was bound by laws or precedents like these. At the same time I held strong views to the effect that no clergyman ought to act in civil matters at all. In every colony I could think of, such duties fell to laymen. So far as I could understand the case, there were two civil authorities both asserting their right to punish the offender, one being the natives and the other the Blantyre colony.

In such circumstances various courses were open. The case might be taken up (1) by the natives alone, (2) by the colony alone, (3) by both acting together. The natives acting alone would in accordance with their own laws have killed the offender at once as they proposed to do. If the English colony was to act it had to determine its relations to Kumlomba. These were not clear. At one time (page 34) this man figures as the chief of the Blantyre territory, at other times as a subject of the colony. If he were the superior power he would execute offenders at his own discretion, and if he were a headman of the English colony he had a right according to native law to expect the latter to hand over entirely to him those that were alleged to have offended against him. If the colony were to ignore native law, and try to carry out purely English law, then it would have to judge and deal with the prisoner on English principles. If it resolved to call witnesses it would have been a fair thing first to explain what the precise effect of testimony was in a purely English trial. After such explanation all Kumlomba’s men would have sworn to anything, and all the prisoner’s friends would have sworn to the opposite. In the same way if a jury of natives had been impanelled, their verdict would have depended on whether they were friends of Kumlomba or of the prisoner. Suppose the Englishmen had wished to get out of the difficulty by an ordeal like _mwai_, the natives would have insisted that it was not a case for the ordeal, while to Christians the measure would have seemed an enormity. The same might be said of the plan of redeeming a murderer and executing slaves in his stead.

As a matter of fact the colony acted along with the natives. A formal trial was held at which all the Europeans were present: at this I declined to attend because I had been acting as chaplain to these prisoners, consequently I cannot tell whether it was the colony or the natives that took the lead on this occasion. It was also deemed expedient for the Europeans to attend the execution in case the natives should follow their barbarous custom of dishonouring the criminal’s body.

Every circumstance was reported to the Directors, and the workers in Africa felt that the view taken at home would be of importance. One day an assassin might cut down some native that had left a home at Quilimane or Mazaro in order to stay at the Mission, and of whom the Europeans were the sole protectors. Long ago Dr. Macklin had asked the Directors what was to be done in the case of murder, but had got no advice.

After the execution the feeling of insecurity soon passed away. The air had been full of threats to the effect that the Mission people would be all similarly treated. By thus killing the enemy, one after another, had not the Yao destroyed certain Anyasa that had ventured to settle by them? Lads were now afraid to take charge of the Mission cattle, children would not venture to come to school, and those that stayed at Blantyre were afraid to sleep in the dormitory. One sees at a glance that fear is a large ingredient in the native character, but a stranger born in a well-ordered country has difficulty in realising the extent of this fear. A boy who ventures out at night is apt to see some one that wishes to shoot him, and forthwith he rushes into the house screaming with fright. Girls and women feel if possible more unsafe, knowing how many of their comrades have been surprised and carried off. Occasionally we had an opportunity of pointing out that their fears might be sometimes groundless. Nothing is more ridiculous to an African than the sight of his friend under a false alarm. One night an Englishman had gone out for the purpose of making astronomical observations. He had carefully prepared his artificial horizon, and was bending down over it with a sextant in his hand when the stillness of the evening was broken by a terrible scream, and the observer had a large basin thrown full in his face. One of our boys had gone out from the light, and had taken the astronomer for a lion. It was long before his companions allowed the lad to forget the incident.