Nkengo was the son of Libuta, and he noticed that the people were dying daily in great numbers. So one day he called out loudly: “You Cloud-folk, throw me down a rope!”

The Cloud-folk heard and threw him a rope. Nkengo held on to it and was pulled up to the Cloud-land.

When he arrived there Nkengo had to wait one day, and in the morning the Cloud-folk said to him: “You have come here to receive lasting life (lobiku) and escape from death. You cannot make your request for seven days, and in the meantime you must not go to sleep.”

Nkengo was able to keep awake for six days, but on the seventh day he nodded and went to sleep. The Cloud-folk woke him up, saying: “You came here to receive lasting life and escape from death. You were able to keep awake six days. Why did you abandon your purpose on the seventh day?” They were so angry with him that they drove him out of Cloud-land and lowered him to the earth.

The people on the earth asked him what had happened up above, and Nkengo replied: “When I reached Cloud-land they told me that in order to gain lasting life I must keep awake for seven days. I did not sleep for six days and six nights; but on the seventh day I nodded in sleep; whereupon they drove me out, saying: “Get away with your dying; you shall not receive lasting life, for every day there shall be death among you!”

His friends laughed at him because he went to receive lasting life and lost it through sleeping. That is the reason why death continues in the world.

The following story also gives the reason for the continuance of death in the world. It was told me by a friend who lived for many years among the Balolo tribe at Bolengi (Equatorville district), about fifty or sixty miles below Monsembe.

While a man was working one day in the forest a little man with two bundles—one large and one small—went to him and asked: “Which of these two bundles will you have? This one” (taking up the large bundle) “contains looking-glasses, knives, beads, cloth, etc.; and this one” (taking up the little bundle) “contains lasting life.”

“I cannot choose by myself,” answered the man; “I must go and ask the other people in the town.”

While he was gone to ask the other people some women arrived, and the choice was put to them. The women tried the edges of the knives, bedecked themselves in the cloth, admired themselves in the looking-glasses, and without more ado they selected the big bundle and took it away. The little man, picking up the small bundle, vanished.

On the return of the man from the town both the little man and his bundles had disappeared. The women exhibited and shared the things, but death continued on the earth. Hence the people say: “Oh, if those women had only chosen the small bundle, we folk would not be dying like this!”

There was a Spider who lived with her parents in their town. She was unmarried, and it was very difficult to find a husband for her as she was so hard to please.

One young man asked her father for her in marriage, but he said: “You must ask her yourself.” And when he said to her: “I love you. Will you be my wife?” she replied, “No,” in such a way that he went back to his house very angry.

Another young man came, and she said: “I refuse all husbands, for I am going to remain as I am.”

After a time another suitor came, and when the Spider declined him he said: “You refuse all offers of marriage from us; but a person will come who will not be a proper person at all, for he will have changed himself to look like a nice man. You will marry him, and you will have much trouble on going with him, for he will take you to his country, which will be far away, and you will regret that you have refused all of us.”

“Be quiet!” she shouted; “you are angry because I will not marry you, and that is why you threaten me.”

“Very well,” said he, “you think I am telling you a lie,” and away he went to his town. Now this was the Python who spoke to the girl.

The Python waited in his town for some time, and then he changed himself into another and nicer form and paid a visit to the Spider, and said to her: “Spider, I have come to marry you.”

The Spider asked him: “Do you love me or not?”

He answered her: “I love you,” and they were married.

After a time he said: “Spider, we must return to my town.” And he deceitfully told her that he lived in a fine town, and was very rich. He also promised his father-in-law that he would return in six months—a promise he never intended to keep.

The Spider and her husband started on their journey, and went on and on and on for two months, and the wife became very tired with the long walk.

As they were nearing their town a person said to her: “The one who is travelling with you is not a real person, but a snake that has changed itself to look like a person. Do not believe in him.”

They reached the husband’s town, which she found was simply a tree with a large hole in it. The husband changed back to his snake form, and coiling himself up in the hole he left his wife to do the best she could outside.

The Spider was very angry, and repented having been so stupid as to refuse all the nice young men of her own town to be deceived by this snake from a distance. The poor Spider became very thin and would have died, only someone helped her back to her father.

The custom of making blood-brotherhood was very common on the Upper Congo. The ceremony has already been described in a previous chapter, and therefore it is not necessary to go again into detail. During the performance of the rite the contracting parties who exhibited any doubt of each other’s faithfulness in properly observing the bond would put one another under a prohibition or taboo, and so long as they carefully obeyed the prohibition the blood bond remained in force.

In the following story the birds enter into this blood bond, and the peculiarities of each are regarded as prohibitions placed on them during the ceremony. There are many such stories accounting for the physical idiosyncrasies of various birds and animals.

When the Heron and the Parrot entered into the bonds of blood-brotherhood the Heron put the Parrot under a ban, saying: “Friend Parrot, you must always remain in the tree-tops, and never alight on the ground. If you do so you will not be able to fly again, for you will be caught, killed, and eaten; and even if you are not killed the folk who catch you will tame you, and you will lose your power to fly again in the air.”

The Parrot said: “Friend Heron, you must never build a house to sleep in it; if you do you will die.”

After some time the Heron began to doubt the words of the Parrot, and he said to himself: “Perhaps my friend told me a lie about sleeping in a house. I will test his words, and if I die my family will know that the words of the Parrot are true, and they will never sleep in a house.”

That evening the Heron entered a house (nest), and next morning his family found him lying dead. Ever since that time the Herons have always slept on the branches of the trees.

The Parrot also doubted the power of the Heron’s prohibition, and said to himself: “I will alight on the ground, and if I am unable to fly again my family will know the Heron’s words are true ones.”

So down the Parrot flew, and alighting on the ground he found there plenty to eat, but when he tried to rise again he was not able to use his wings. Some people caught him and tamed him, and he remained a slave in their town.

That is the reason why the Parrots always fly high above the tree-tops and never alight on the earth, because of the prohibition of their friend the Heron.

The writer has many more of these stories, but the above are fairly typical of the lines upon which they run, although every story has its own little plot and exhibits some characteristic trait of native mind and habit.