DEATH IN A VILLAGE. — #* 83 
ach, where the abambo (the devil) was supposed to be. 
I could not stay more than five minutes in the hut, for 
the din was too great for me. They wanted to drive 
the abambo out of the poor sick man so that he might get 
well. But all the drumming they did, all the mbuwiti 
(idol) had said concerning his recovery, all the care his 
wives, sisters and his mother bestowed upon him, were 
of no avail. 
The poor fellow died the second day after my arrival, 
right in the midst of the drumming, just a few min- 
utes after the guns had been fired near his ears and stom- 
ach. It was midnight when he died. I was in my hut, ° 
which was not far off, when suddenly there burst from 
one end of the village to the other a wail that told me 
the sad story. Jrende was dead ! 
What a wail it was! It went right to my heart, it was 
so piercing, so heart-rending; I could not help but feel 
sorry for these poor people. The wailing and the mourn- 
ing-songs lasted all night; there was no sleep for me. 
In the morning I was led once more to the house 
where the body was laid. The room was crowded: 
— women from all the villages round had come, and they 
were all seated on the floor. There must have been 
about three hundred of them, and they were singing 
mournful songs to doleful and monotonous airs. The 
tears were running down their cheeks. The wives of 
the poor fellow, ten in number, had shaven their hair, 
had taken off their garments and were almost naked, 
and they had rubbed their bodies with ashes. Their 
- anklets and bracelets had been removed, and round their 
necks they wore a piece of native cord indicating that 
they were widows and in mourning. 
