The Manganja are not a sober people:they brew large quantities of beer, and like it well.Having no hops, or other means of checking fermentation, they are obliged to drink the whole brew in a few days, or it becomes unfit for use.Great merry-makings take place on these occasions, and drinking, drumming, and dancing continue day and night, till the beer is gone.In crossing the hills we sometimes found whole villages enjoying this kind of mirth.The veteran traveller of the party remarked, that he had not seen so much drunkenness during all the sixteen years he had spent in Africa.As we entered a village one afternoon, not a man was to be seen; but some women were drinking beer under a tree.In a few moments the native doctor, one of the innocents, "nobody's enemy but his own,"
Staggered out of a hut, with his cupping-horn dangling from his neck, and began to scold us for a breach of etiquette."Is this the way to come into a man's village, without sending him word that you are coming?"Our men soon pacified the fuddled but good-humoured medico, who, entering his beer-cellar, called on two of them to help him to carry out a huge pot of beer, which he generously presented to us.
While the "medical practitioner" was thus hospitably employed, the chief awoke in a fright, and shouted to the women to run away, or they would all be killed.The ladies laughed at the idea of their being able to run away, and remained beside the beer-pots.We selected a spot for our camp, our men cooked the dinner as usual, and we were quietly eating it, when scores of armed men, streaming with perspiration, came pouring into the village.They looked at us, then at each other, and turning to the chief upbraided him for so needlessly sending for them."These people are peaceable; they do not hurt you; you are killed with beer:" so saying, they returned to their homes.
Native beer has a pinkish colour, and the consistency of gruel.The grain is made to vegetate, dried in the sun, pounded into meal, and gently boiled.When only a day or two old, the beer is sweet, with a slight degree of acidity, which renders it a most grateful beverage in a hot climate, or when fever begets a sore craving for acid drinks.A single draught of it satisfies this craving at once.Only by deep and long-continued potations can intoxication be produced:
The grain being in a minutely divided state, it is a good way of consuming it, and the decoction is very nutritious.At Tette a measure of beer is exchanged for an equal-sized pot full of grain.A
present of this beer, so refreshing to our dark comrades, was brought to us in nearly every village.Beer-drinking does not appear to produce any disease, or to shorten life on the hills.Never before did we see so many old, grey-headed men and women; leaning on their staves they came with the others to see the white men.The aged chief, Muata Manga, could hardly have been less than ninety years of age; his venerable appearance struck the Makololo."He is an old man," said they, "a very old man; his skin hangs in wrinkles, just like that on elephants' hips.""Did you never," he was asked, "have a fit of travelling come over you; a desire to see other lands and people?"No, he had never felt that, and had never been far from home in his life.For long life they are not indebted to frequent ablutions.An old man told us that he remembered to have washed once in his life, but it was so long since that he had forgotten how it felt."Why do you wash?" asked Chinsunse's women of the Makololo;"our men never do."
The superstitious ordeal, by drinking the poisonous muave, obtains credit here; and when a person is suspected of crime, this ordeal is resorted to.If the stomach rejects the poison, the accused is pronounced innocent; but if it is retained, guilt is believed to be demonstrated.Their faith is so firm in its discriminating power, that the supposed criminal offers of his own accord to drink it, and even chiefs are not exempted.Chibisa, relying on its efficacy, drank it several times, in order to vindicate his character.When asserting that all his wars had been just, it was hinted that, as every chief had the same tale of innocence to tell, we ought to suspend our judgment."If you doubt my word," said he, "give me the muave to drink."A chief at the foot of Mount Zomba successfully went through the ordeal the day we reached his village; and his people manifested their joy at his deliverance by drinking beer, dancing, and drumming for two days and nights.It is possible that the native doctor, who mixes the ingredients of the poisoned bowl, may be able to save those whom he considers innocent; but it is difficult to get the natives to speak about the matter, and no one is willing to tell what the muave poison consists of.We have been shown trees said to be used, but had always reason to doubt the accuracy of our informants.We once found a tree in a village, with many pieces of the bark chipped off, closely allied to the Tangena or Tanghina, the ordeal poison tree of Madagascar; but we could not ascertain any particulars about it.Death is inflicted on those found guilty of witchcraft, by the muave.
The women wail for the dead two days.Seated on the ground they chant a few plaintive words, and end each verse with the prolonged sound of a-a, or o-o, or ea-ea-ea--a.Whatever beer is in the house of the deceased, is poured out on the ground with the meal, and all cooking and water pots are broken, as being of no further use.Both men and women wear signs of mourning for their dead relatives.These consist of narrow strips of the palm-leaf wound round the head, the arms, legs, neck, and breasts, and worn till they drop off from decay.They believe in the existence of a supreme being, called Mpambe, and also Morungo, and in a future state."We live only a few days here," said old Chinsunse, "but we live again after death:we do not know where, or in what condition, or with what companions, for the dead never return to tell us.Sometimes the dead do come back, and appear to us in dreams; but they never speak nor tell us where they have gone, nor how they fare."
