CHAPTER XXIII

THE THREE NGINAS KILLED BY HUNTERS

A few days after their departure from the plantain field, the three nginas found themselves in a part of the forest where food was scarce.

One evening the old ngina said to his mate: “We have had a hard time of late, and our little one is often hungry. We go to sleep with empty stomachs. Let us go back to that part of the forest from which the human beings drove us by their noise. Perhaps we shall discover more plantain fields in the neighborhood that we have not yet seen.”

Early the following morning they started back. They found the way easily, though they took a somewhat different course, so that they could find food.

After some wanderings, the nginas came to a koola-tree, and many of its nuts were ripe and had fallen on the ground. At this sight they uttered chuckles of delight, and said, “It is a good thing that the ngoas [wild boars] have not been here else we would have found no nuts.” And soon they were busy crushing their hard shells.

The koola nut is larger than a walnut, and the shell is very hard. The kernel is about the size of a very big cherry. They cracked one nut after another between their powerful jaws, and each time they crushed one there was a great noise, for these nuts are so hard that a man has to give a very heavy blow with a big stone to crack them; for men also eat these nuts. They did not forget their little one, but cracked many nuts for him, for he had only his first set of teeth, twenty in number, and these were not strong enough to crack shells.

The nginas, as they ate, would say: “How delicious are the koola nuts! How lucky we are to be the first here!” and they grinned when they thought of their good fortune. How ugly they looked when they grinned! Their faces were simply fiendish.

When they had eaten all the nuts that had fallen on the ground, they looked up at the koola-tree, but could not see its top on account of the thick foliage of the trees under it. Seeing its huge trunk (about fifteen feet in diameter), they said, “What a pity the koola-trees are so tall and big! We cannot climb the trunk, and reach the nuts.” After their meal, they continued on their way, and when night came they went to sleep in the usual ngina way.

Time passed, and at last, as they approached the plantain field the njokoos had destroyed, and where they themselves had been, they became exceedingly cautious. The big ngina and his mate would stand up as human beings do, and look around and listen, their ugly, wrinkled, intensely black faces peering through the trees to see if there were any danger threatening them.

Once the big ngina thought he scented something hostile, and looked toward his mate, for often the nginas have a silent way of communicating with each other. Then they stood still for a while. After they had made sure there was no cause for alarm, they continued on their way, but became more and more wary. They heard a noise and stopped; but it was only a troop of monkeys journeying through the forest.

Finally they came to the destroyed plantain field, and passed through it to go to the forest beyond. They were more timid than ever, on account of the lack of shelter from the trees. On their way they saw two of the sheds that had been built by the human beings. They looked at them, and noticed a heap of ashes, the remains of a fire, and three burning embers in the midst of the ashes. They thought they were tondos, the red fruit that grows near the ground, for which the nginas have a great fondness, thinking they are a delicious fruit. The embers looked like them, and yet again did not look exactly like them.

So they seated themselves on their haunches by the pile of ashes, and kept wondering if these red dying embers were tondos. The big ngina at last stretched out his long arms and took one of the embers in his hands. He dropped it instantly, and uttered a terrific yell of rage, and, with glaring eyes, looked at the embers and jumped around. His mate asked, “Dear, what is the matter? Why do you yell in such a manner?” The big ngina replied, “That red thing is not a tondo. I took hold of it, and it felt as if I had a handful of bees or wasps.” Then he fearlessly raised his arm and gave a great blow with his open hand to the pile of ashes, and sent them and the embers flying about.

Farther on they discovered a cluster of plantain-trees bearing big bunches of juicy fruit. They were filled with delight at the sight. Soon they were busy pulling the trees down, by grasping the base of the stem with their two hand-like feet, and then, with their powerful arms and hands, pulling the trunk to the ground. They even bit the trunks of the plantain-trees, for these are juicy.

They ate silently, fearing that, if they made any noise, other nginas would hear them and come to the feast. Even the njokoos, if they heard the nginas, would come, and the nginas would have to run, for there were no trees for them to climb, and the njokoos would charge upon them.

“I hope no njokoos remember this place,” said the big ngina; “for if they do not come, we shall have food for several days.”

The nginas are very wasteful. After they get hold of a bunch of plantains, and if there are many, they take a few bites, then go to another tree and pull it down. They ate until they could eat no more, when they retired into the dark recess of the forest. There they lay on their backs, the baby ngina resting on the breast of his mother.

They remained in the neighborhood of the plantain-trees several days, and would come at dawn to eat, then retire to the forest, and come again before sunset, after which they would go into the forest to sleep. The time came when they had eaten all the bunches of plantains, and they then left the place for good. They laughed and said: “If njokoos and other nginas come here, they will be late and will have no words of love or affection for us,” and they laughed still more.

They had hardly entered the forest when they heard the voices of human beings. These were the five hunters. They came to get plantains to eat, as well as to seek the nginas and njokoos of whom they were in pursuit. Great was their anger when they saw that the nginas had eaten everything. They swore again that they would kill the nginas.

When the nginas heard their voices, the big one said to his mate, “Let us move away. We hate the presence of human beings.” And they went far away and wandered in the thickest part of the forest, and did not come into that neighborhood any more. They agreed to go back to the big koola-tree, for they hoped to find many nuts on the ground, and they were happy as they thought of the good meal in prospect. One day’s journey was to bring them to the place. That night they slept in their usual way. In the morning they departed, expecting to reach the koola-tree toward noon.

But that very same morning the ngoas had been there and eaten all the nuts that had fallen on the ground, and when they went away they laughed and said, “If the other herds of ngoas or the nginas come, and other men of the woods, to-day, they will find that they are too late, and that we ngoas have been here before them all.”

The ngoas had not been long gone, when the three nginas made their appearance. Great indeed was their disappointment when they found the ground bare of nuts, and they cried, with angry voices, as they looked at the footprints of the ngoas, “Those horrid ngoas have been here this morning and eaten all our nuts.”

The nginas left the place very much disgusted, and continued to roam in the forest in search of food. They had a hard time to get a living, for herds of ngoas and many nshiegos, nkengos, and some nginas had been in that part of the forest before them.

The big ngina, seeing this, said to his mate: “Lately we have worked hard for our living. We have had bad luck, and find that others have been to our chosen places before us.”

“Yes,” she replied, “I think it would be better for us to separate during the day, to satisfy our hunger; for if we three go together, we shall not find food enough for all of us. We will keep as usual within hearing of each other’s voices. When I call, you will answer, and when you call, I will answer.”

The next morning they separated, wishing each other good luck, the baby ngina going with his mother. During the day they kept calling to each other, their powerful, guttural voices resounding through the forest as they did so. The voice of the ngina can be heard about six or seven miles away.

That day the nginas came across fresh footprints of human beings. When they met that evening they told each other of their discovery, and said, “We must shun them.”

The footprints the nginas had seen were those of the five hunters who had sworn never to come back to their village until they had killed some nginas and njokoos. They were the most daring men of their tribe, and had spent a great part of their lives in the forest killing njokoos. They were trying to locate the nginas. They saw by the tracks the njokoos had left behind them that they had gone a long way off.

It happened that the hunters had the day before discovered the place where the nginas had slept. They had seen at the base of the tree the huge footprints of the big ngina, the smaller ones of his mate, and the tiny ones of their little one. So they knew that there were three of them together.

They said: “Now we are on the track of the nginas. These footprints are fresh; but we must be brave, and aim right, for the big fellow is sure to fight and will try to kill us. Our guns are good. With them we have killed many njokoos, and we will kill the nginas whose footprints we have seen. The big idol of our village has told us that we should be successful in our hunt, and that we should not return without having killed nginas or njokoos. We have made powerful incantations, and the charms we wear will protect us against them, and we shall not be killed.”

That night the hunters slept under a tree, and in the morning, as they started out, they said: “We must walk through the forest and jungle as noiselessly as a leopard, and we must be near one another.” This was the very same morning the nginas had separated, the better to get enough food for the three. The hunters proceeded, keeping close together. They kept a sharp lookout, stopped often to listen, and their eyes tried to pierce the jungle everywhere at the slightest noise they heard.

Suddenly one of them gave a cluck of warning. His quick ear had heard a rustling in the jungle. This cluck is made with the tongue striking the palate, and does not alarm the animals of the forest. The four other hunters, hearing it, drew close together and listened. They also heard the rustling. There was no mistake. This could only be the nginas walking through the jungle. They lay flat on their stomachs with their guns cocked, and crawled toward the rustling noise and at last saw the female ngina and her baby. They were busy eating tondos. The hunters fired and killed them both on the spot. They fell without uttering a groan.

The big ngina did not hear the detonation of the guns that had killed his mate and baby, and did not know that they were both dead. Now and then, as he was moving along in search of food, he would call for his mate as he was wont to do when they were separated, and as they had agreed to do in the morning. But now his calls were not answered, and he thought that, pressed by hunger, she had wandered beyond the reach of his voice. After a while he became anxious and repeated his calls oftener, saying: “Where are you? Why do you not answer me?” But no answer came, though he listened intently. The forest remained silent. He could only hear the echo of his own powerful voice.

The day had almost passed without any tidings of his mate. Then he became thoroughly alarmed, and near sunset he grew frantic and called for his family at the very top of his voice, uttering despairing and appalling roars. All the creatures of the forest thought they never heard in all their lives any ngina roar so loud, and many of them were terribly frightened and fled in all directions away from the dread sounds.

The ngina continued to call for his mate, but no answer came. Then he was sure that some great misfortune had happened to his family. Perhaps a heavy limb of a tree had fallen upon them and killed them both outright. When night came, he rested at the foot of a tree, but could not sleep, for he was thinking all the time of his missing ones. At daybreak he renewed his terrific roaring, which was heard again far and wide; but no response came back to him.

After the hunters had killed the two nginas, they cut off their heads and slung them round their shoulders as trophies, to show to their people on their return to the village. Then they started in search of the big ngina, whom they expected to meet at any moment, seeking his mate and his baby. So they were on the lookout for him, as they did not want to be taken unawares. They said: “If we meet this big kombo [fighter] ngina, it will be a fight for life. We must kill him or he will kill us. Let us beware lest he seize one of us in his powerful clutches or give us a terrific blow with his open hand.”

At last, to his great joy, the big ngina discovered the footprints of his mate and baby. At the sight he roared louder than he had ever done in his life; but still no answer came back to him. He followed the tracks and continued to call. The hunters heard him and nerved themselves for the great conflict. It was to be a fight to the death. Gradually the sound came nearer and nearer. The ngina evidently continued to follow the footsteps of his mate. Then came a silence. The roars stopped! The five men made ready and formed a circle so that they could see where the attack of the monster would come from, and be ready to face him together when he came toward them. Their guns were cocked, and they were ready to fire at a second’s notice.

Suddenly they saw not far from them in the midst of the leaves a huge black fierce-looking face, watching them silently. It was the face of the ngina. His eyes were vindictive and full of hatred. All at once the monster saw the heads of his mate and baby slung round two of the hunters. At this sight his rage knew no bounds. He uttered his yell of attack, and, standing upright, with hair erect on his body, showing his anger, and the hair on his head moving up and down, he advanced, yelling and roaring, and beating his tremendous chest with his huge fist. At each yell he opened his mouth and showed his powerful teeth.

Then the detonation of five guns fired at the same time was heard, and the huge ngina was pierced to the heart, and fell forward uttering a groan of pain, his powerful arms stretched toward his enemy as if ready to clutch them. He was dead. The hunters cut off his head and went back to their village, and this was the end of the family of nginas whose adventures we have followed.