The Atlanta constitution. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1885-19??, 1892-03-22
LIFE IN AFRICA.
ROGER EASEMENT WRITES An IN
TERESTING LETTER
From tho Dark Continent and Tells Some
thing About tho Customs-A Coun-
try Without Money, Etc.

as striped calicoes, blue indigos, strips Of
handkerchiefs, each consisting of u dozen
uncut gaudily colored squares of cotton, or
such other cloth as my stores contained or
their fancy dictated. Handkerchiefs
were as rule the fashion, although
check known as "nkeleIe," Or the guinea
fowl, by reason Of its white spots, ran them
hard
Money was quite unknown. I myself
never saw it, never possessed 1t, never
longed for any for a period Of close Oh
three years spent in this life up country.
From an elephants tusk, worth $500 in
Europe, to a single purple nsafu fruit, Of
an unknown absence of value, cloth such
as / have described, blue glass beads, or
brass wire in eighteen-inch lengths, alone
served for the purpose.
Sometimes it happened that carriers ar
rived, and my paying store was empty
until fresh supplies of cloth should reach
me from the coast.
In these cases each carrier readily &C
cepted Il scrap of paper good for" the
number of pieces due him, to be redeemed
at sight.
A smiling circle Of gazing, wondering
''minkanda' or skins" as the natives term
paper, believing it to be the skin of some
unknown creature.
Turning them round and round in their
fingers, or holding them upside down, each
native in turn would take with grin his
billet d'echangc
Some, more bold, or more full of fun
than others, after having drunk in their
fill Of strange hieroglyphics my pen had
traced Oh their bon" would hold it
toward me, and, half laughing, half doubt
ing, would gasp out:
"And does, this really show three pieces
of handkerchiefs?
Then gravey would 1 point it all out,
word for word, tracing which of the lines
represented the bearers name, which
stood for the magical number three
pieces, and showing where the ''handkcr-
chiefs in heightened characters sprawled
across the page, finally pointing out the
letters at the front that stood for my own
name, and which gave to the paper its
value as bon"
\ pleased sigh half of wonder, half of
intense longing, generally greeted hand
Then turning away, they would smack
their thighs, and break into peals of
per il. their loin cloths, to be treasured up
until the day when they should return to
demand the promised payment. 1t thus
happens there is often paper money"
floating round Congo villages, bearing per-
haps half dozen signatures Of different
White men. At times the wrong white
mar viii be requested to pay on the
strength of some dirty shred of paper dated
years previously, and signed possibly by a
comrade who had long since journeycd the
long, long journey-OppOrtunity not having
offered to the native earlier to presc 1t the
draft. ard though time had killed the
drawer Of it, the bearers faith had waxed
strong and blossomcd with the years.
Tie would-be recipients face grew
longer and longer as his mind gradually
grasped through Il maze of questions and
explanations, the fact that the paper he
bpl in f,I.p
ing sadly away he would gaze ruefully on
it, while his hand still firmly graspcd the
bond six yards of Red Saved list. pay
abb, to Lutete MboAzo by John Williams,
Sd septf mber, 1854" which now could
ncve1 be presented save in the courts Of
death.
But such cases wore very rare; the claim
was almost invariably acknowledged by
the white trader, or missionary, or gov
ernment official, as the case might be; and
in the white mans bond rendered the pay
ment by 'Minkanda' when a temporary
lack of cloth compelled it, a means always
accepted by if not always acceptable to
the natives.
A Native Forger.
One busy morning, while engaged in paw
ing newly arrived caravan, AiaQuala, the
chiefs nephew and successor, marched gaily
up, as was bis wont, with floating cloth of
blue and red and, Offering me the prelini-
nary greeting of "Mbote Nfumu," presented
me with nonchalant manner an apparent
bon" carefully folded UP as if it had Just
emerged from its resting place in the lOiu
cloth, and then stood awaiting payment.
Finishing with the carriers, l turned my at
tenuon to M0Quala and, slowly unroliing the
somewhat greasy morscl Of paper, | discGy
cred ii to be the off sheet Of Il piece of note
paper, such as one tears away and keeps
when destroying the written half of ones
Old letters. Across it wandered a struggling
ENHANCEMENT Of ink strokes, spluttcring and
thick, somewhat as though II bird had trod
in an upset inkpot and hoped across the
page. Round and round The page they
wandered, and ended III grand climax OF
circles and blots near the bottom.
studied this composition for some time
and then raised my eyes to Maquala's,
calmly and rcposefully looking back into
mine.
We regarded each other in silence for
some moments. and as l slowly shook my
head and handed back the supposed "hou"
a broad smile rippicd and spread over
Maqualas youthful comtenancc-a smile
of amused Disappointment
so YOU won't pay it, ehT' he Qucred
still looking at me as the smile deepcned
and broadcned, While Il dying gleam Of hope
yet fingered in his eyes.
mo, Maquala. not that one | said with
emphasis, as | vainly struggled to keep my
countenanca in face of this genial. hone
apparent to an African throne
As MaquGla joined a group of lads who
had been waiting for him he shook his head
laughingly as he held cut the rejected paper,
exclaiming:
mo good; he wouldn't pay it," and shroks
Of laughter arose from all as The would-be
forger disconsolatcly turned this solf-in-
spired infant attempt at African forgery
round and round in his hand. striving to
detect wherein lay the difference, evidently
so apparent to me, between it and "A genuine
effort of a white mans pen.
No Memorials OF the Past.
The past in tropical Africa is a blank
the future, an unkn0Wu possibility, pcopied
in each savage mind with horrible fears
of witchcsaft and spirit-world dcviItry,
mingled with fleeting hopes of more wives,
more slaves, more 'zimbonGO. Or white
mans goOds-and visionary glinlpses Of un-
known quantities of palm wine yet to be
consumed Oh market days-While over al
hangs the ever present shadow of death,
that to the savage mind African OF ali his
enemies seems the most unnatural and I'M
called for-for why should death come to
man if it were not for the internal malice
ard ingenuity of the witches who Turk in
every community and "cat the souls Of
men by their hidden art