When I think of these things I cannot help thanking God for them; that, wherever I have gone, He has made human hearts tender and kind to me; that, even under the black skin of the benighted and savage African, He has implanted something of His own compassionate love.
Anguilai and Quengueza were sadly alarmed at my illness. Anguilai accused his people of wickedly bewitching me. One still night he walked up and down the village, threatening, in a loud voice, to kill the sorcerers if he could only find them. I had to get up and tell Anguilai that I was sure his people and the Bakalai loved me too much to wish me to be sick. Whereupon they all shouted at once, "It is so; it is so."
After a few days I was able to walk again a little; and I went and lived in the forest, where I suffered less from the heat than in our little houses.
How sorry I often felt that these kind-hearted negroes were given to superstitions which led them to commit the most horrid cruelties. A little boy, about ten years old, had been accused of sorcery. On being examined, he confessed that he had made a witch. Thereupon the whole town seemed to be seized with the ferocity of devils. They took spears and knives, and actually cut the poor little fellow to pieces. I had been walking out, and returned just as the dreadful scene was over. I could not even make the wretched people feel shame at their bloody act. They were still frantic with rage at the thought that this little fellow had made a witch to kill some of them; and they were not quiet for some hours after.
I felt so badly that I went into the woods and took the path that led to the village of Npopo, which was not far distant from N'calai Boumba. I wanted to see if the men had returned; I wanted to see Aguailai, the chief. He was the doctor who had come to Goumbi to drive off the aniemba. When I went down to Npopo the first time I found the people all gone into the bush. Everything was open and exposed to thieves; chickens and goats were walking about; and I wondered to see such carelessness in the village. But in the centre, looking down on everything, stood the _mbuiti_, or god of Npopo, a copper-eyed divinity, who, I was informed, safely guarded everything. It seemed absurd; but I was assured that no one dared steal, and no one did steal, with the eyes of this mbuiti upon him.