60 WILD LIFE UNDER THE EQUATOR. 
ic, believed their village attacked by witches, that the An- 
iemba witchcraft was among them, and they must aban- 
don it and settle elsewhere or they would all die one after 
the other. 
Just a little before sunset I saw every one of them re- 
tire within doors; the children ceased to play, and all 
became very quiet in the camp, where just before there 
was so much noise and bustle. Then suddenly arose on 
the air one of those mournful, heart- piercing chants 
which you hear among all the tribes of this land. It 
was a chant for one of their departed friends. As they 
sang, tears rolled down the cheeks of the women, fright 
distorted their faces and cowed their spirits. 
TI listened and tried to gather the words of their 
chants. There was a very monotonous repetition of one 
idea—that of sorrow at the departure from among them — 
of one of their friends and fellow-villagers. 
Thus they sang: so 
We chi noli lubella pe na beshe 
‘Oh, you will never speak to us any more, 
We can not see your face any more ; 
You will never walk with us again, 
You will never settle our palavers for us.” 
And so on. 
They sang until the sun had disappeared below the 
horizon, till the orb that gives gladness to the heart and 
life to the world had gone from sight, and they chose the 
time of its disappearance to pour out their mourning- 
songs. I thought there was something very poetical in 
the relationship of the time to the subject. For what 
should we do without the sun? It is the very heart of 
life! 
