IBO, Brian R. Lundin [the ebook reader .txt] 📗

the water like a torpedo, striking the boat, turning it over and having four men for dinner flooded his thoughts. He shook his head to remove the image, took a bottle of beer out of the cooler, and took a big swig. He looked at Eli who had leaned back in the chair and had his eyes closed. Diki and Molanti was drinking beer, chatting, and laughing while the big outboards roared.
A half an hour later, they went through a bewildering series of narrow streams and quiet lagoons. There was a flash of lightning way to the south, but no rain came. The river widened and the trees and brush grew thicker. There were terrifying sounds coming from the solid ground on both sides of the river.
After an hour, they heard laughter and loud voices. The voices were high like those of children playing. Another turn around another bend in the river and they saw that the voices were in fact children swimming and playing in the water; all of the children were baldheaded. A young boy of about fifteen came from somewhere paddling a dugout canoe and waived at them. He had a wide smile that displayed perfect teeth like Diki’s and he was baldheaded
He paddled through the water with his homemade paddle with surprising speed. Molanti cut his engine and the boat slowly drifted. The young boy threw a vine-made rope and their boats were attached side by side.
The canoe was empty except for a big leaf that held maggots and odd looking worms and a long tree limb with a line attached that contained what looked like a curved bone. Molanti talked with the youngster in his language and he motioned them to follow him as he took off in a flash.
“These are the Ijo or River People,” Molanti said as he easily followed the canoe. They have lived here on the river for centuries and they still live as they did centuries ago when they were slave traders between the Europeans and the other African groups further north. There are approximately 200,000 Ijo that are spread out over the area and they farm vegetables and fish. They rely largely on their relationship with the river for their survival. The river is full of fish although Nile perch, catfish and eels are among the most sought after fish but if they can club a snake, they’ll eat that also. They keep all of their body hairs shaved to avoid bugs.
They use many different fishing techniques. Fishing using nets are the common technique and the most productive. In certain seasons, large schools of perch gather for some unknown reason. The people set up their nets made from vines that form a mesh of thin threads. The net is circular with a weighted end. The net is thrown out by hand into the water in such a manner that it spreads out and sinks. Two ends of the net have draw lines that run to the shore. Other fishermen get into their canoes and beat the water with their paddles, the noise and vibrations scare the fish that swim away in terror and seek sanctuary in the net thinking it to be a shelter. The frightened fish enters the gates of doom and the people on the shore haul in hundreds of them. Hand fishing is usually used during festival and the men compete to see who can catch the largest catfish by hand. Dancing, singing and eating immediately follow. Sometimes they use spears and bows to fish in shallow waters for big fish, turtles and frogs. An ordinary spear made from a tree branch is modified into a trident and is used to impale a fish, frog, snake or even a small crocodile. When they use the bow and arrow a heavy line is attached to the arrow that is used to pull the fish in.
Another common technique is fishing traps. Some of these traps are permanent that stays in the river and is checked each day. Another type of trap is the pot-trap that is baited to attract the prey and is periodically lifted.
The people use various methods to preserve the fish, since as you can imagine there is no refrigeration or ice. Sometimes they dried the fish in the sun or salt it. However, neither of these methods preserved the fish for long so mainly they quickly eat it. Sometimes they will place the live fish in a contained stream to keep it alive and fresh. Yams, palm oils and fish are sometimes traded with the tribes that live further inland. They live in compact villages with a chief or clan head. Their religion centers on water spirits who inhabits the rivers and swamps of the area and they believe is the source of all life. To the southeast live the Igbo tribe, which numbers about 8 million, and over the years, the two tribes have had many battles. The Ijo won most of them because they were better organized although outnumbered by nearly 8 to 1. The Igbo were mainly farmers and were politically fragmented with no centralized chieftaincy or government. There were small autonomous groups scattered all over their land that constantly bickered with each other and so they were easily defeated.
Their chief has invited us to lunch, it should be interesting for you two city slickers,” he said smiling and looking at Eli and Malik.
They followed the young man passed a group of children, their happy little black naked bodies splashing in the water seemingly oblivious to the dangers. The river ran into a forest where the trees hung very low over the water causing the men to duck. The canopy of the jungle blocked out some the hot burning rays of the sun and it was cooler. Swarms of big flies and mosquitoes were everywhere, buzzing around their heads and landing on the boat, Eli and Malik were swatting at them but Diki and Molanti seemed not to notice and surprisingly none of them landed on the men. In a shallow pool naked women, young and old with short thick bodies and small breast were bathing and smiled at the strangers, thoroughly unconcerned about their nakedness, smaller children hid behind their mothers and peeked around their bodies at the strangers.
They followed the young man into a cove, raised the outboard motors and docked their boat next to his canoe on the riverbank, which was lined with canoes. The men arrived within minutes, five of them, also short, big boned, muscular and carrying long, deadly looking spears. Some of them had bones through their noses and others had hideous scars across their foreheads, they all were baldheaded. They looked like the fierce cannibals that Eli and Malik and seen in old jungle movies. Their privates were covered with large green leaves and they were grunting something as they approached. One of the men hugged Molanti and smiled and Malik was thankful that he wouldn’t be eaten. They began talking in their language, which consisted of grunts, hand movements and animated head shaking. The other men were fascinated with the boat as they inspected it with eyes as big as quarters. Molanti told them they could board and look around.
As the men cautiously boarded the boat with their spears at the ready, Molanti explained.
“These people very seldom see outsiders, occasionally a tourist boat of whites will pass but they have been warned by the touring companies not to try to visit the native villages. About fifty years ago, a group of European traders came to trade their trinkets, mirrors, knives, pots and pans, etcetera for crocodiles and snakeskin’s. The River People welcomed them and trading with them, but just like your American Indians they caught the white men diseases that they had no natural immunity against and many of the people got sick and died just like the American Indians. They blamed the sickness on the traders and they killed them all, now if unaware whites come ashore the people move further inland until they leave.
Centuries ago the River People were fierce warriors and recruiters and some were even cannibals. Now no whites are allowed in their villages.”
“How did you meet them,” Eli asked.
“Through my father, when I was a young boy I would accompany my father as he brought them medicines and other goods from the city. Depending on the weather we might stay with them for months that are how I learned the language. Dummbo, the man I hugged is the chief and we have been friends since we both were children.”
More natives arrived. The young boys leaned over the boat and inspected it with the men aboard; they soon became bored and ran away.
The Chief and the other men away from the riverbank down a dirt trail led them to the village. Malik imagination started to run wild again. He remembered seeing a jungle movie at a Saturday morning matinee at the Apollo Theater. In the movie there where a group of white men were being led, hand tied behind their backs, by a group of fierce looking extremely dark natives with wide sinister smiles on their faces, down a similar trail. When they got to the village the natives were dancing in frenzy and a big pot of hot boiling water was bubbling. The next scene announced, “Find out what happened to these brave explorers in the Dark Continent next Saturday.” He hoped there was no pot boiling in this village.
As they continued down the trail they passed small patches of what looked to be farm, now abandoned and overrun with weeds and tall grass. They passed two naked young girls tilling soil near the trail.
“The women do most of the hard laboring work. The River People grow their food on small patches of land like this, which they carve out of the jungle, but the land can be hard, sometimes there is too much rain and other times not enough, so when the ground becomes unproductive they find another piece of land. The land and the river is everything them,” Molanti explained.
The air was getting humid, there were brief showers, after every shower the sun was out in full force baking the ground, and the humidity got worse. During the brief showers, the children played but when the sun came out in all of its blazing fury they joyfully ran to the river. Eli and Malik were covered with sweat. The flies were everywhere buzzing along more of a nuisance than a threat, the repellant was working but as they picked their way, Malik watched for snakes under every step. The trail opened into a clearing that was near the water and they neared the river again. Molanti suddenly stopped and pointed. At the edge of the water, stretched out in the sun was a big snake. He was black with yellow stripes on his belly, his girth was at least two feet, and he had to be at least ten feet long. Eli’s knees buckled and his mouth was dry he had read about these creatures and seen them on natures shows on television, but to be this close to a real one was truly amazing. They crossed another trail that led them from the river and soon they saw the huts, and then smelled smoke.
When they entered the village, the men with the chief left. Small fires were