FROM THE BUSH. BY FUNDI. II. JIM. LOOKING back, it appears to me to be little short of amazing why it should have taken us nearly three years to discover that in our cook-boy Jim we had a truly unique character. Jim was a Chesena boy, and hailed from the district surrounding the Sena Sugar Estates on the Zambesi River. He first swam into our ken when we were shooting along the Zanque River. Our camp was pitched near the bush trail, and one evening, as we were sitting outside our tent, a most gorgeous apparition appeared in the offing. It was a boy, but a boy wearing such a quantity of clothing as to make of him a being quite apart. He wore a pair of long white trousers, and over these again a pair of khaki shorts. Of shirts he had three, worn one over the other, and as each was of a different colour and length, they were all on view at the same time. He had a white coat visible at the front, but a tweed shooting coat was worn over the top of it. A Highlander's tam-o'-shanter-a relic of the war, with a magnificent bunch of marabout feathers stuck in the side of it, served him for headgear, while a pair of ancient ammunition boots So completed the picture. much we realised at a glance -the socks we were to see later! Removing his boots at the edge of our clearing, he doffed his bonnet, and approaching the place where we sat "What will the Bwanas want for dinner?" he asked in fearful English. "I am the new cook!" R. and I were so taken aback that for a moment speech failed us. R. looked at me and I looked at him, and then we laughed. As a matter of fact, we did want a new cook, and, to cut a long story short, we took the boy on: R.'s observation, "We've either got a perfect jewel or a d-n fool," summing up our ideas upon the subject. He turned out to be quite a good cook, and when week or two later we decided to trek right through to Nairobi-a journey of some two thousand miles-he at once decided to come through with us. It was then that we really found him useful, for in a few days we were beyond our linguistic boundary, and floundering in a sea of unknown dialects. Through these shoals we were safely piloted by our new cook, and it him, propped by the cookhouse door, rendering the really beautiful hymns of the Church to the jargon of "Doh-me-sohme," all in a very high falsetto voice, was an education in itself. seemed to us that he knew light in his form! To hear every dialect of the country. Naturally he, from being our sole means of communication with the outside world, acquired a unique position in our party, and it was inevitable that he should be more of the confidential assistant and less of the cook-boy as time went on. Some 800 miles north of the Zanque River we found the Rovuma River, and for several reasons though mainly be cause we liked the look of it -we decided to make an extended stay there. It is true that about this time we did begin to realise that a lot of chicanery was being practised behind our backs. We had an idea that Jim was not translating our orders correctly to the boys, and that, when acting as our interpreter in cases of trouble amongst our own people, was distorting our judgments. Anyone who has had the misfortune to be in a strange country and unable to speak the language will at once appreciate the enormous difficulties of the situation. We took the easiest line, and let the matter slide for the time being, though we applied ourselves assiduously to learning the Swahili tongue. Long before this we had discovered that Jim was a Christian. I never discovered exactly to which Mission he owed his training, but if a chronio addiction to the tonic sol-fa stands for anything, he must certainly have been a shining I remember receiving a letter written in English from a Mission boy in Rhodesia, who was applying for a job as a personal boy. He gave as his qualifications for the vacancy that he had always been told by his master at school "to go quick with all letters and not play on road," and that he had passed Standard IV. in tonic sol-fa. The latter accomplishment lost him the job! But I digress. About his people Jim was always reticent. Some days he told us one thing, and some days another. To the other boys this was very suspicious, though, of course, it conveyed nothing to us at that time. I afterwards learned that a very ugly word was used in referring to him-but always behind his back. To us, then, came Jim one morning with the request to be married. It appeared that the daughter of a near-by Sultan had captured his wandering fancy, and he wanted to be married at once. R., who had R.C. leanings, refused to have anything to do with the matter, and I was perfectly indifferent. I did, however, ask him if he had the Sultan's permission, and he said "Yes!" We sent for up the Sultan to make quite sure, and that worthy, being interpreted by Jim, said that his daughter was really married already, but that as her husband had gone away over two years ago and had not paid for her, he, the Sultan, had dissolved the marriage, and Jim could now have her. He assured me that this was all in order according to native ideas, and so the marriage took place. Jim came with his his prayer book and wanted me to marry them Christo," as he put it, but I jibbed at that! We did, how ever, provide a wildebeeste for the marriage feast, and paid for the native beer without which no marriage ceremony, and its attendant dance, can be considered complete. The dance lasted for three days and three nights, and had we not had a second cook-in the shape of an extraordinary boy named (by us) Tom-we should have fared badly, for Jim, I regret to say, spent the three days in a most perfect "blind," in which state he was only equalled by his new wife and the Sultan ! It was a tragedy when he came rushing into our house one evening, a week later, to say that Alleni, his wife, was missing. We soothed him down as well as we could, and gave him leave to go and interview the Sultan immediately. R. ran to look at the riflerack, and found an old 8m/m rifle missing. Together we dashed up the trail to the village, and arriving there, found Master Jim standing outside the Sultan's house terrorising a group of natives with our rifle. He was shouting and gesticulating and crying as though he were mad-and mad he actually was, for we had quite a job to get the rifle away from him. R. thrashed him soundly and ordered him back to the camp, and as soon as we got back we interviewed him again. He was obviously half mad with rage, though he apologised profusely for taking the rifle. He told us that the former husband had turned up that afternoon, and had stolen Alleni and taken her to his house, four days' journey to the south. He asked for eight days' leave to go and fetch her back, and, feeling sorry for him, we at length agreed. We admired his pluck as, taking only his big spear, he set off into the darkness; for the village he mentioned we knew to be absolutely isolated, and to reach it he would have to sleep four nights in the bush alone. Nine days passed without any news, and on the morning of the tenth he staggered into camp. Не was absolutely mazed from exhaustion and he went, and before half an hunger, and beyond the fact hour had passed we were startled by the sound of a shot coming from the village. that he had not got the girl back, it was impossible to glean any information what Al soever. He managed to drink the personal presents he had some soup we had made for him and then went to his hut, and for thirty-six hours we saw nothing more of him. At the end of that time he emerged, and after an enormous meal, came across to tell his story. It appeared that he had made the village in record time, but only to find that the man he wanted had not been at home for over a month. It was obvious, therefore, that he had not taken Alleni back to his own village. Jim was now at a standstill, but the next morning the headman had clinched the matter by driving Jim from the village. He had no food, and the villagers would give him none, so he was compelled to take the back trail again, and trust to luck to find food in the bush. had lived on wild honey and “masuku ”—a species of wild plum; and if the camp had been another day's journey farther away I very much doubt if he would have made it at all. He It was after this episode that we first noticed a difference between Jim and the ordinary barn door native. There was no doubt that Jim really did grieve over Alleni. Hardly a day passed without his begging us to go down personally to the other village and get her back for him. As a matter of fact, I did interview the Sultan, and I made him pay back to Jim the money he had received for his daughter, and also received from Jim on the occasion of the marriage. though a lot of the talk was over our heads, owing to our still feeble knowledge of the language, we both agreed that the Sultan knew more of the abduction than he would admit, and we came to the conclusion that the original husband had turned up again, and by paying money over to the Sultan had obtained his permission to steal the girl. R. also held that the girl had gone willingly, since we had heard no disturbance; and, taking everything into consideration, we agreed that it was too involved a case for us to move in with any advantage. By this time, amongst other things, we had acquired a considerable local reputation as "doctors." The most obstinate cases of ophthalmia had yielded to our simple treatment of boracic acid douches, and the blind were, literally, seeing!. With a disease known as "Yaws (a kind of Frontier sore) we had great success in our carbolic treatment," and almost daily we had a hefty parade of the blind and the lame. In course of time our reputation ceased to be a merely local one, and before we realised it, we were getting patients from over a week's journey away. The sick parade grew beyond our capacity to handle, and Jim was called into the profession as dresser-in-chief. It was at this time that he began to use, for his second It is necessary now to follow R. on his safari. name, the word Mganga, mean- dog against a somewhat autoing "medicine-man." It was cratic form of discipline. really our own fault, because, in our ignorance of native credulity, we used facetiously to refer to Jim-in the patient's hearing-as "Jim Mganga." To us it was merely a joke; what it meant to the remainder of our staff will be seen later on. Jim continued to enjoy our confidence in every way. He was a good worker, and, as far as we knew, absolutely loyal; while over the rest of the outfit he held a wonderful control, so much so, in fact, that we increased his wages! It was only natural, then, that when R. went off on a long safari to the Fort he should take Jim with him as chief of staff. It was perhaps four months or so since the disappearance of Alleni, Jim's wife, but as soon as the latter heard of the projected safari he got R. to promise that he would go to the village, en route, and try and get Alleni back for him. Well, in due course the safari pulled out of the camp, and I was left alone, except for a few boys, in the silence of the bush, and was destined to see nothing further of my partner for over three and a half months. During this time I heard, for I was now fairly proficient in Swahili, several grouses against the absent Jim. They were indefinite grouses-I mean I could not get to the root of any one of them-and I judged them, one and all, to be the natural grousings of the under Arriving at the village, which we will call "A," R. interviewed the first husband of the girl Alleni, who strongly denied stealing her from our camp. Nothing could shake him upon that point, and as the girl was not in the village, or at least could not be found, there was nothing further to be done. Jim was furious, and but for R.'s presence, there would have been bloodshed. In the end R. said he would put the whole case before the Portuguese governor. The governor's village was on the route of the safari, and arriving there two days later, the whole case was submitted to his judgment. There is no doubt, of course, that the judgment of Senor X. was greatly influenced by the presence of my partner R., who, from what he told me, took a particularly strong line with him. At any rate, in the event, two native policemen were sent out to the village of A, with orders to bring in both the man and the girl. Chafing at the delay to the safari, R. waited impatiently for four days, at the end of which time the police returned with the culprits. Alleni was taken before the governor, who, needless to add, could not speak a word of any language save his own Portuguese, and asked with whom she wanted |
