132 
In the Heart of Africa 
concerning us must have been favourable, for one day he put in 
an appearance himself, and thus for the first time came into close 
contact with white men. 
The Batwa are anything but agreeable to associate with. 
Their indolence is sufficient to make anyone despair. Whilst 
later on the pygmies of the Congo forest were ready to act as 
guides at the slightest nod, the greatest exertion and sometimes 
forcible methods were necessary to get the Batwa away from their 
cooking-pots every morning. Contrary to the pygmies’ custom, 
they never camped with our carriers, but built themselves huts at 
a little distance off. 
The body measurements which Raven and I took were 
obtained with the greatest difficulty. The superstitious people 
almost trembled with fear when we fitted up our burnished 
measuring instruments. I believe that Barthelemy’s presence 
alone prevented them from flight. The poor fellows almost 
thought they must die. “You won’t die at all,” intimated Bar- 
thelemy to them; “just come along.” Then to prove the truth 
of his words I allowed myself to be measured by Raven. Seeing 
that I survived the ordeal, they appeared to grow more composed, 
yet I was not able completely to allay their mistrust. 
The Batwa sat round resignedly. None of them came will¬ 
ingly, but every one had to be led singly by the arm to the 
“ slaughtering ” bench, the chest on which the measuring took 
place. At length came the turn of Gunsu’s son. The poor fellow 
suffered tortures. He hesitated, but at last he stepped forward 
resolutely, and sat down on the chest with the words: “ Well, 
then, it’s all one if needs be that I die to-day! ” But what a 
marvel! After the measuring was over, he stepped back safe 
and sound to his place. . . . So it was obvious that measur¬ 
ing was not fatal, but there must be something else. What are 
the wasungu (whites) writing down there ? And what was one 
of them continually muttering, and what was his neighbour 
answering ? Did the spell lie in that ? Because it was quite clear 
that there must be some spell. Yes, it was certain that their lives 
were forfeit, and lay sealed in the white men’s books and at 
