Forest Dwellers - Part II
By Cam Greig
Bayaka orchestra
A Bayaka family.
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As our computer generated technology propels itself at breakneck speed into the gloom of the future it is somehow comforting to realize there are still a people who live the same as they have since their time began. The Bayaka seem to be content and supremely happy; something western civilization still does not seem to have mastered.
My old man sitting on the right taught me to shoot dogs.
How are we fellows to keep warm? Africanis pups, Magondi Tribal Trust Land, Zimbabwe, winter of 1977.
The Bayaka of Congo still live as true hunters and gatherers. Each man has his own hunting net, woven lovingly for him by his mother from the vines of the forest. Typically these nets are about a metre high and up to 50 metres long. They are used in family hunts where the nets are quietly hung from the bushes making a large U and the women and children chase the game into the nets. The men hide behind the net and kill the animals as they are scared into them. A traditional gift for a young man to give his prospective father in law has always been a large antelope, either a yellowback duiker or even a sitatunga. The bongo are said to cause a barren womb and are not hunted by many of the forest dwellers.
The Bayaka use a very long thrusting spear with a detachable head. The head is attached to the shaft with a vine cord. This acts effectively as an anchor when the barbed head is thrust into the game. One old hunter with us claimed to have killed a number of buffalo in this manner. I was inclined to believe him, as he stalked to within ten yards of several dwarf buffalo while we were with him. Although I believe he is capable of killing them this way, he simultaneously refused to chase down the newborn buffalo calf we found. He left that to the crazy white man; “Mondele”. All I wanted was my picture with it, but it ended up getting away.
Another traditional hunt utilized by the Bayaka is an all man's hunt. Even the style of shelter used on the hunt is different, as no privacy is needed and male bonding takes place. The shelters are still from the Pyrethrum leaves, but are built in an open lean-to fashion. When this kind of hunting is executed the red river hog is the animal being pursued. Numerous herds of these bright red bulldozers roam the jungles and they are tracked down to where they are bedded. Then the Bayaka surround them as quickly as possible and charge in from all sides. The confused pigs can then be speared. This style of hunting is a very risky business, involving much running around at full tilt in thick undergrowth. From my personal observations fully 50% of the men in the village have lost the use of at least one eye due to this dangerous means of putting dinner on the table.
I know that in theory this kind of hunting will work because of an incident that happened to me and my brother; on that occasion we had heard the pigs ahead of us eagerly working the forest floor for fruit or some such delicacy. Using hand signals we split into two groups, as my brother and I both had guns. I let my brother take the direct route, as he had never shot one of these strikingly red pigs before. I took a tracker and made a large loop, hoping to catch the fleeing pigs as they departed the scene.
As we eased into position I spied a very large boar trying to sneak out the back door. This was just like I have seen large boars do in the ‘States; this guy was quietly leaving the confrontation with humans to the ladies and young men. Seeing a chance to put some delicious meat on the table I aimed just behind his ear and let fly. The problem was I was really using just a back up gun, a light rifle that we used to shoot birds. On receiving the shot the pig took serious exception to it and turned toward us and charged. Glancing behind me all I saw were the soles of some feet heading up a tree so small I knew it would soon be bent over double, but there was my guide, perched straight up a sapling not two inches in diameter. I knew any thoughts of a second passenger were fruitless. The tree started to sway precariously, but I had to pull my attention back to the boar. He was a bit wobbly, but kept coming at me. I was able to fire a coupe of time, but the shells must have been powerless to penetrate adequately. With my last shot I actually held out the gun to the pig's head and pulled the trigger. He decided he had enough and vacated the property.
Meanwhile I heard a shotgun blast and once my tracker had come back to earth we went to see what my brother had found. When I got back to the main porter group there was my brother laying on the ground laughing. Tears streamed down his face as he tried to recount the last half hour.
On hearing my initial shot the sounder of pigs had all rushed for safety in the most direct manner possible. Fortunately, or unfortunately, that was right through the clearing where Brian and his guide were located. As the pigs burst from the bush Brian held on the first one and pulled the trigger. Rather than discouraging the rest of the sounder it only served to put them in high gear. They rushed forward in a seething mass, only breaking ranks enough to go around Brian and his guide who was immediately behind him. There were probably 30-40 pigs in the group, some well above the 200 pound mark. Unlike my tracker who had time to find a tree, Brian's guide was caught in the open behind Brian. As waves of terror at being gored to death washed over him the terrified and confined Bayaka simply jumped up and down. Brian said the pigs totally surrounded them on all sides. He had a tremendous urge to turn the gun around and start using it as a club, as the pigs were all within reach. As the last of them disappeared the guide continued to run in place and Brian realized the hilarity of the whole situation. He started to laugh, and could not stop, literally for days. From that point on he called his guide “Dances with Pigs” and everyone in the crowd would burst out laughing once they understood the translation.
What is important here is that the method of surrounding the pigs really does work. With the Bayaka able to move so quietly through the forest they are much more capable of this than we are, and yet we actually were able to do it as well. I just hope they have more success at it than we did on that occasion.
Voyaging with the Bayaka is a truly remarkable adventure. They are capable of such union with the forest and seem to just melt along the trail, while we stumble and trip along behind them. As one example they typically walk bare foot. This makes them very quiet, but also poses many risks. On one occasion a porter had a thorn thrust all the way through his big toe; it was showing both on entry and exit. For two days he said nothing, as he did not want to miss out on his share of meat, even though he had to have been in tremendous pain. He was still carrying a 40 pound load. When he finally presented the injury it was infected and yet the thorn was still embedded and had to be pulled out with a trusty Leatherman set of pliers.
The Bayaka can carry a 40 pound load, walk at a pace of four miles an hour while observing the ground for traps and tracks. At the same time they swing a two foot long machete to clear the vines and are constantly on the lookout for honey. They do not seem to sweat and if they are in a good rhythm of walking/running, will pass by a nice cool stream where they could stop to drink
In the Bayaka lifestyle there are no trips to the grocery store. The only sweets they have in their lives are fruit and honey. Because of this they have become very adept at gathering honey. In the deep forest where Bayaka tradition still prevails a hunter will “mark” a hive as his own and this will be respected by the other hunters. Only in one case have I seen them actually perform a sort of husbandry of the honey hive. In this case they left some of the hive they raided to allow the bees to rebuild it. The hole cut to extract the honey was minimal to keep other honey lovers, like the chimps, away. In most cases they simply destroy the hive, and in many cases actually will spend days cutting down a tree that is 150 feet tall to collect the honey. When the hive is dry there is a great wailing and gnashing of teeth. When the hive is full they all sit and eat into a stupor, achieved by the sugar rush. I can vouch for the fact they will eat 10 pounds of honey in one sitting. They also eat all of the pupae as well, as this provides very good protein.
The following story is an example of how tough the Bayaka are: My guide on one trip had a significant limp. I asked him why and he told me he had been out hunting with his dog and his brother. Suddenly the dog, which had been foraging ahead, started yelping and ran back toward him at high speed, followed closely by an old silverback gorilla. On seeing my guide the gorilla redirected his vengeance towards him, mauling him and in the process severing his Achilles tendon with a bite from his gaping jaws. His brother, hearing his pleas for help, finally summoned the courage to come back into render help and thrust a spear into the gorilla. For his bravery he also was mauled before the gorilla decided he had enough sport and left. Both men bore the scars permanently and my guide limped for the rest of his life. This gorilla mauled individual was the happiest person I have ever had the pleasure to know or share a camp with. His smile was infectious, even though we could share very few words; I cherished our time together as some of the most precious of all my adventure safaris.
As our computer generated technology propels itself at breakneck speed into the gloom of the future it is somehow comforting to realize there are still a people who live the same as they have for generations, and they seem to have mastered the concept of few material possessions. I can also state that they seem to be content and supremely happy; something western civilization does not seem to have conquered.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cam Greig was born in Cameroon, and grew up hunting with the locals and learned to speak both French and Bulu. His high school and collage years were spent in the United States, but he has returned to Cameroon two to three times a year since 1989 to go hunting, both there and in the surrounding (french speaking) countries. He keeps a standing “safari” complement of equipment including dug out canoes in Cameroon, the C.A.R. and Congo. His emphasis is on the adventure of the trip and less so on the actual hunt, and he has hunted many areas that have been abandoned or neglected since the end of Colonial rule forty years ago.
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