Chapter 10

CHAPTER X THE SOUL, GHOSTS, DREAMS, ETC. As described previously,1 Ibibio believe that each man has a minimum of three souls—the ethereal body, the soul proper, and the spirit. According to the testimony of many informants, it is possible for each of the first two to leave its human habitation during sleep. The shadow is by some supposed to be an emanation of the soul, and the word Ukponn is applied to both. Here, as in many other parts of the world, it is said to be possible to bring about the destruction of an enemy by approaching him at a time when his shadow is clearly to be seen. Then a poisoned rod, dagger, spear-point, or arrow should be flung into its midst, after which the victim is said to fade away and soon die. Should a man intentionally tread upon the shadow of another, injury would be caused, and for this reason, as with the Ekoi, during certain dances care is taken to stand far apart, lest the feet of one performer might tread upon the shadow of his neighbour.2 Except in the country round Awa, ghosts are not thought capable of producing a shadow, “ since they themselves are but shades.” A dead body, on the other hand, is everywhere credited with so doing on being carried forth into the sunlight. All who were questioned were quite clear upon this point, “ for,” said they, “ though life has gone, a part of the soul ” (possibly the astral) “ is yet thought to linger, until disintegration sets in.” Wounds inflicted during dreams are said to retain their 1 Page 88. 2 In the Shadow of the Bush, p. 295. effect in waking hours.1 Should one, therefore, dream of a fight, in the course of which injuries are sustained, such, for instance, as a blow on head or arm, after waking pain will be felt in the place struck by the dream enemy. During sleep one of the souls is thought often to leave the body and wander amid strange lands and far-off worlds. At such times there is danger that it may be trapped by an enemy and kept from returning. For this reason people try to prevent their souls from wandering forth in sleep. For instance, when in a dream a man sees another offering him “ fine chop ” he should make a great effort to induce his dream-self to refuse it, lest peril lurk therein, saying to himself: “ I have all that I want in my house, loving wives and children in plenty, delicate food and comfortable furnishings. I will not therefore leave these and go forth in a dream to enjoy the goods of another, lest an enemy snare my soul and prevent it from returning to me.” From long questioning of men wise in such things, for instance Nte Nte of Erro Eket, Chief Henshaw learnt the following, which he related to us : “ A favourite method of depriving a man of his soul is to go to a strong Juju priest and get him to put in force the plantain charm. For this purpose a large plantain tree ” (the Ibibio Tree of Life) “ is chosen, growing in the midst of a farm or at some quiet spot. A gash is made in its stem, and then the ill-wisher and priest stand waiting together, calling at intervals on the name of the man to be injured. Sometimes hours pass by, sometimes even days, but at length, if the proper rites have been performed and the hate of the enemy be but strong enough, they see the shaft of the plantain swell. By that they know that the doomed soul has answered their call and entered within. At once they bind the place round with strong cords, so that there should be no escape. Then they wait till the hour of sunset. No sooner does the red sun sink than the plantain stem is slashed through by the stroke of a sharp matchet, and, as the tree crashes down, the man whose soul 1 Especially those inflicted on a man’s were-animal. Cf. the doctrine of repercussion. is imprisoned within dies in his house, even if this be hundreds of miles away. “ When a man falls sick because his soul has gone forth and is being detained by an enemy, or when he believes that such an one is trying to entice it from out his body, he, in turn, goes to a Juju man known to have the power of seeing clearly. A bowl of water is got ready and set on one side, while an offering of a duck, a fowl, eggs, rice and much fine chop is spread out beneath a heap of Juju leaves on the other. Between the two stands the magician, holding a bird in his outstretched hand. “ ‘ If any one is trying to catch the soul of this man,’ he calls, pointing to his client, ‘ let the soul of the ill-wisher enter into this bird that I may kill it, and the man be at peace.’ “ After that he takes a little of the rice and, dropping it into the water, says : ‘ Here is good rice, such as you love ! Will you not come and eat it ? . . . No ? ’ " Next, dropping in the plantains, he says : ‘ Behold, ripe plantains ! Surely you will take this ? . . . No ? ’ “ Then, if nothing else suffices, he will at length throw in fine chop, sardines, perhaps, or even tinned salmon, such as it is hard to resist (!) At last, in the sight of all, the water begins to move in the bowl. At once a man, stationed there for the purpose, shoots an arrow into the bird, which is held under water till this becomes red as blood. Stout cloths are then tied round the bowl, over and over, and these again bound with strong rope. This is done that the evil spirit may not be able to break forth : for the soul of a man is very strong and could burst all bonds save those of new cord well tied.1 All Ibibio know charms such as this, but the Anang people are specially famous for their knowledge of these things, and have the reputation for knowing plenty medicine too much. “ When a young man is so ill that he seems on the point of death, especially if suffering from fever, Juju leaves are brought and laid upon his eyes and round his head. Then the medicine man stands by his bed and asks : ‘ Why are you, a young man, about to die ? Is it because it is God's 1 Cf. Judges xvi. n. time ? Or does an enemy seek to snare your soul and kill you by witchcraft ? ’ “ In his trance the sick man always answers truly, since, as is well known, one at the point of death can see very clearly. Even the thickest walls grow like glass before him, so that nothing is hid from his eyes. Should the evil be in himself, he is forced to tell the bystanders exactly where in his body the witchcraft lies, so that the doctor can cut it out and thus save him.” A case in which a man was accused of seeking to bring about the death of his own mother by snaring her “ dream soul ” came before the Idua Native Court. In this the accused, named Tomkpata, stated : “ About six months ago my half-brother, Ofuo Afaha Eke, came to my house and said, ‘ You want to kill my mother.’ That evening he beat a drum round the town, crying that I had taken his mother’s soul and imprisoned it in the Egbo-house. Next morning our mother herself came and said that I must give her back her soul.” Ekanem, witness for prosecutor, stated on oath : “I remember Ofuo Afaha Eke telling me that Tomkpata had come to his mother in a dream and cut off some of her hair. So next day she went to him and said that he must restore her soul.” Ofuo Afaha Eke, sworn, stated : “ Tomkpata is my elder brother. I complained to him that my mother had dreamed a dream in which she saw him cut off her hair with scissors. From this we knew that he was trying to snare her soul.” Efik and most Ibibio think that the soul passes in and out through the nostrils. When, therefore, a person suspected of witchcraft dies, first the nose and then the other openings are stopped up with native pitch, made from a cactus which witches are supposed to dread, in order to prevent the spirit from coming back to reanimate its forsaken tenement and thus obtain organs with which to work its evil will upon the living. This belief is perhaps a survival of that which caused the ancient Assyrians, and even Jews of the present day, to hang up aloes or cacti from the door-arch as amulets to prevent the entrance of demons or evil ghosts. Like the primitive Sumerians, Ibibio recognise “ three distinct classes of evil spirits,” called in their language Ibak Ekkpo, “ all ready to torment the hapless wanderer.” First, the disembodied human soul, which wanders restlessly up and down amid the scenes of its former earth-life ; secondly, “ strong ” or evil Jujus (Ndemm) ;1 and thirdly, bad “ medicines ” (Ibokk). “ Each of these three kinds are divided up into classes according to the several characteristics of the evil spirits which compose them . . . enumerated,” in the Utukki Limnuti, " by the constantly recurring line : Utukku Limnu Ekimmu Limnu Ilu Limnu Evil spirit Evil ghost Evil god Alu Limnu Gallu Limnu Rabisu Limnu Evil demon Evil devil Evil fiend.” The seven principal evil spirits are mentioned in the beautiful lines engraved on Tablet K : Those seven were born in the Mountain of Sunset And were reared in the Mountain of Dawn, They dwell within the caverns of the earth, And amid the desolate places of the earth they live. Among the wise gods there is no knowledge of them. They have no name in heaven or earth ; Those seven gallop over the Mountain of Sunset, And on the Mountain of Dawn they cry ; Through the caverns of the earth they creep, (And) amid the desolate places of the earth they lie. Just before a child is expected to be born into any Ibibio family, custom ordains that the husband should offer a sacrifice to ancestors and devils. Should he refuse or neglect this rite the offended ghosts are thought to avenge themselves by stealing away the dream-shape of the unborn. A case illustrating this belief came before the Native Court at Idua, in which Obak Etifit, the plaintiff, stated on oath : “ About two years ago I refused to marry defendant, so he kept me imprisoned for two days. Some time after I found that a babe was about to be sent me. The man gave me some medicine to drink, and later, when I went back to visit my mother, I miscarried. Akanyak said that 1 See p. 22. it was my mother who had destroyed the babe in my womb, and that she must therefore pay him seven articles, according to our custom. Also he charged me with trying to poison him with Juju.” The defendant stated: “I remember that, two years ago, when Obok left the Fatting-room she came to my house, but soon ran away, so I sent Ata Nkono to bring her back. He caught the girl and put chains upon her, then led her home to me. “ As soon as I saw what had been done to her I set her free, and said to the man : ‘ Do you not know that no one is allowed to chain up another in these days ? ’ After that we lived together as man and wife till she conceived. I bought some medicine for her, and six days after taking it she went to her mother’s house. Before she left me I wished to give her another medicine, but she refused it. She stayed away for a long time. One day her mother sent to tell me that the devils had made her daughter miscarry, because I had not sacrificed to them.” In another case, heard before the same Court, Antikka Antikka prosecuted his wife, Owo Ama Esie, on the charge that she had accused him of witchcraft. During the course of the trial the plaintiff stated on oath : “ Accused told me that it was I who killed her unborn children. She said that I took them from her by witchcraft to devour with my ‘ witch-company,’ which, she stated, was composed of Oronn and Calabar people.” In support of this testimony a fellow-wife named Edua Aban, sworn, stated : “I remember that accused said to her husband : ‘ If I am about to have another child I will go, before its birth, to Afaha-’Nduk, where my people dwell. You wish to devour our children in witchcraft with Oronn and Calabar people.’ She said this because of all the children which she had conceived not one remained to her, and she believed that her husband had killed them by drawing out their shadow souls while yet in the womb.” Antikka Antikka further stated : “ Owo Ama Esie also said : ‘ Five times I have conceived by you but have never born a child, because you are a wizard and you and your witch-company prevent me from bearing my babes. Had I known earlier of your witchcraft I would not have stayed with you, but have gone back to Afaha-’Nduk, where I have power. If I had done this my children would have been alive to-day.’ ” Many sick people are thought to see and converse with the ghosts of those whom they have known in life. Often long-dead friends come at such times, a father, mother, grandmother, or a wife much loved. Sometimes these gentle spirits bear with them branches of medicinal leaves, or, taking the sick man’s hand, lead him forth in a dream to bush or farm, there to point out the herbs or roots which will cure his illness. It has been noticed that remedies so indicated never fail. Not in sickness only but all through life such kindly guardians are thought to be near by. As Mary Kingsley says : “I have often seen a man sitting at a bush fire or in a village palaver-house turn round and say, ‘ You remember that, mother ? ’ to the ghost that to him was there ! ”1 “ Eti Ekkpo,” or gentle ghosts such as these, are often instrumental in warding off threatened danger and protecting from the attacks of evil spirits. They are thought to be drawn back to earth by ties of love to wife or kin, or when called upon for aid in time of peril. To them prayers are addressed, almost in the words of the ancient Babylonian petition offered over a sick man : May the evil Spirit that hath seized him stand aside ! May a kindly guardian stand at his head. May a kindly Spirit stand continually at his side.2 Such protectors are often invoked to repel the attacks of men learned in black magic who wish to ensnare the soul of a sleeper. “ For this purpose the wizards send out their dream-shapes in the night-time, robed in long garments and with faces covered like the masked Egbo. Through window or door they glide, though locked and bolted never so surely, till at length they reach the room where the man whom they wish to injure lies sleeping. Here they 1 West African Studies, p. 63. a R. C. Thompson, op. cit. p. 205, line 220 et seq. wind their long garments about him, covering his eyes that he may be unable to recognise them, striving all the while to draw forth his soul and snare it by evil charms, so that it can never return again to its place.” Just such malignant powers were supposed to invade the houses of the Babylonians, and indeed the description given us by an old Ibibio chief was almost in the words of the ancient poem : The highest walls, the thickest walls. Like a flood they pass. From house to house they break through, No door can shut them out, No bolt can turn them back. Through the door like a snake they glide, Through the hinge like the wind they blow ; Estranging the wife from the embrace of a husband. Snatching a child from the loins of a man, Sending the man forth from his home Through the gloomy streets by night they roam.1 When a dreamer finds himself assailed by such visitants he calls upon the names of his ancestors, upon all good Jujus, and on the spirits of those who love him, whether living or dead. If his prayer is answered the assailants, seeing the good wraiths hurrying to the rescue, “ fear too much ” and fade away, leaving him unharmed. Dreams are very real to people such as these. As a chief of high standing once said to us while talking over the snares of the witch-folk : “I myself have often wakened suddenly in the night and seen them, shadowy, in my room.” When a man first falls sick it is the usual practice to make a sacrifice to the “ manes ” of his dead father and mother, lest the illness should have been sent in punishment for having offended them. Such offerings are set out on the right hand, while wife, children, or friends stand pointing to a second set on the left, and crying : “ Evil ghosts ! Hide yourselves on this side. Do not come near to this man who is sick.” If a woman is sick, or cursed with barrenness, she pounds camwood to a fine powder and lays 1 R. C. Thompson. Idem, Tablet 5, line 25, and Tablet 4, line 14. some of this before the image of her father, praying that he will drive off malignant powers, so that, once more, all may be well with her. When a slave died his body was not buried but thrown into the bush. Then, after sufficient time was thought to have elapsed for it to be cleansed through decay, some of the members of the owner’s family used to go and fetch home the skull. This was then placed in a shrine and sacrifices offered to it. The cult of such skulls was called Okova. With every Ibibio the worship of his ancestors is one of the most important factors in his life. The dead (Ekkpo) and the Jujus are almost equally revered : in fact, they are deemed to work together in helping mankind, and the two cults therefore partly coincide. The former are perhaps looked upon as nearer and more friendly, and especially helpful as regards fertility of crops and children. They are consulted on all matters of importance either through a diviner or the Idiong priest, or by a personal interview with the Shade. It is not at all unusual, it is said, for a man to see and converse with the materialised spirit of his ancestor, and if the presence of blood, as is claimed,1 makes materialisation more feasible, this may be one of the reasons for the blood sacrifice on such occasions. Offerings are always made at the time of the planting of farms and at the new yam festival. The ancestors are usually represented by plain or carved posts, about one foot high, which may only be made from the Akwa or Ekkomm trees, tied round with piassava and surmounted, in the case of a chief, by a skull. The posts are placed either on the verandah, generally on a small clay mound, or in a little shrine, which may be either within or without the house. A frequent form is that of figures used as the hafts of short ceremonial spears, the metal points of which are fixed into the earthen floor of the shrine dedicated to ancestor worship. Among the Oronn and Okkobbor the figures are of a very elaborate type, and may be found in ghost huts, at the back of “ palaver ” sheds, before the houses of descendants, and 1 See p. 242. over graves. The head is supported by a neck, often as long as head and head-dress combined. At the base, instead of the collar-bone, two wooden bosses are to be found resting on two slender pillars a foot or more in height, while a third continues the spinal column from beneath the neck. All three spring from a solid ring supported by the upward bent arms. The elongation of the upper part of the body serves two purposes : first it gives room for the representation of a long beard, plaited into a sharp point, and secondly for two small effigies said to be those of the deceased’s favourite wives, which are often found seated on the ring. At the present day the people are nearly all clean shaven, but formerly they used to wear a plaited beard elongated by artificial means. The only surviving example of a similar fashion which came to our notice was an old Okkobbor chief, who wore his beard in three plaits. Among Efik the Ekkpo are usually represented by a small open native pot, filled with water and placed on a clay mound on the verandah, along with some Afia-Okuk wires, white baft, palm-leaves, and, in the case of a chief, a skull. No instance is known to me of any Ibibio ancestors being symbolised by stones, as among many other Semi- Bantu and some Ibo tribes. As a rule, representations are only made for those who have brought children into being. Sacrifices are always offered to the deceased members of a club or secret society at one and the same time. The word for the collective body of dead members is Idemm;1 for instance, the Idemm Ekkpe connotes all the past members of the Ekkpe Society, and is generally represented among Eastern Ibibio by the tall, cut phallic stone, Itiatt Ekkpe, embedded in a small clay mound and often surmounted by a cap.2 All the sacrifices, including on occasion human ones, are made before these stones, which are found at certain places in the bush, remains of ancient circles, or temples which existed among most of the old Semi-Bantu tribes. The dead are thought to live in the ghost country, which may be either under the earth or on the earth, but in a 1 The word includes also, on occasions, the living members. 2 Cf. the Ekoi Etai Ngbe in In the Shadow of the Bush. different plane, for a period of one or two years, after which they reincarnate—generally in the same family, unless they consider themselves to have been ill-treated in their former life. Since one of the chief ambitions of all natives is to have, or be a member of, a large family, this idea has a considerable influence in bringing about the kind treatment of relatives. The belief in the short period between incarnations is not inconsistent with the great respect paid to ancestors, since the real Ego is always with God, and his representatives on earth and in the ghost town are only emanations. Certain places in this District are said to be specially haunted by ghosts, which wait invisible by the wayside, ready to fall upon any person not protected by strong “ Juju medicine.” As such an one draws level with his unseen foe, the latter extends a long hand and strikes him across the face. The unfortunate man falls under the blow and lies with his head turned to one side. “ When people are found in this position, every one knows that the ghosts have felled them. Sometimes such sufferers can be nursed back to life, but more often they die.” When several people have suffered in this way at a given spot, a noted witch-doctor is fetched, who, by means of rites similar to those already described on p. 121, entices the ghost to enter into a pot, which is then tightly bound round and buried in a deep hole. At times, when a man is sick, the native doctor says that the illness has come because the patient crossed the path of wicked ghosts or devils. The physician must therefore go out and collect magic bark and leaves, which he pounds into a paste and mixes with the ashes of victims sacrificed before some strong Juju. With this medicine he marks the forehead and back of the sick man, so that the devils should be unable to touch him, although they are all standing round waiting for his soul. Magic leaves are often laid beneath a sick man’s pillow in order to keep his spirit from leaving the body until absent friends can be brought from a distance to take their last farewell of him. People fear the ghosts of young men far more than k those of old ones, because the former are reft away, unwillingly, from all that earth holds dear. These restless spirits are therefore always striving to come back in order to enjoy lost pleasures, or, failing that, to draw their loved ones after them. Old men, on the contrary, are usually willing to rest. There was a strange echo of R. L. Stevenson in the words of an Ibibio chief who, one evening, sat gazing across the waters of the Kwa Ibo River while speaking of the peaceful end of the aged. “ When an old man comes to die,” he said, “ he lays him down with a will. Weary the fisher comes back from the sea and the hunter home from the kill.” The rhyme, however rude, gives somewhat the effect of the singing cadence in the dreamy voice of the narrator. The root thought, at least, is the same, and it is but one more example of how near are “ East and West,” the most primitive minds and those which are the highest product of our own times and country, when standing face to face with the great facts of Nature—Birth, Death, and that vast “ Beyond.” Lest I should, however, be thought to plagiarise without sufficient warrant, I give the exact words : Kini ebiowo akpade enye akpa ima ima. When old man dies he dies willingly. Kini moko iyak ekode ebihi mo ekpa mba. When fishers fish long they grow tired. Kini ata utop soanade ebihi mo ekpa mba. When hunters hunt long they grow tired. When a spirit loved above the ordinary has departed this life to go to the land of shadows the family set food for him in three places : first, the comer of the verandah; secondly, at a spot where water falls from the roof when it rains; and thirdly, at the nearest cross-road. The chief reason why ghosts are thought to linger upon earth and bring misfortune upon the living is because no offerings have been made or the proper burial rites have not been carried out. Those still believed to haunt the West Coast to-day are the very same which troubled the ancient Babylonians : A ghost unburied, Or a ghost that none careth for, Or a ghost with none to make offerings. Or a ghost with none to make libations ; Or a ghost that hath no posterity. When such unhappy wanderers come back to trouble a house, the inmates usually send for an Idiong man, or for any one who can see clearly in such matters. The man thus called in sets light to a dry palm-spadix, from which the nuts have been picked, for this burns slowly and steadily and never flares up. With this in his left hand and a broom formed of fine, hard, flexible twigs, fastened on a long bamboo or palm stem, held in his right, he enters the compound, and goes into every corner of each room, crying out, “ Go forth ! ” at the same time beating the air with broom and burning brand. “ So soon as the ghost’s place of refuge is reached, all men hear it crying, just like a little chicken, ‘ fi ! fi ! fi ! ’ as the lashes fall upon it and it feels the scorch of the flame.” The priest follows the sound, chasing the unhappy wraith hither and thither, till it is driven forth from the compound and the cries are heard to fade away in the distance. “ They can smell the odour, too, for the odour of ghosts is very strong and terrible.” This belief was also held among Babylonians, as recorded on one of the engraved tablets : “ They make the chamber to stink like mice.” At certain times of the year the spirits of the dead are said to be very restless. When, too, they hear that some one has just died in any place, they hasten thither that they may join in eating the sacrifices. This they do by sucking out the essence of the food while leaving it apparently unchanged. That is the reason why people always strive to prepare two sets of offerings, one for their own ancestors, which they lay to the right of the place of sacrifice, and one for strange ghosts on the left. The offerings most acceptable to ancestral spirits are made as follows : “ Take goats’ hearts and chickens’ hearts, mix with sliced yams and oil. Then throw the mess before the carved sticks, saying : ‘ Here is chop for my father. Here chop for my mother. Next for my grandfather and grandmother and all other ghosts which belong to my family.’ ” At times the ancestral spirits demand libations, and are never at a loss for means of making their wants known. An instance of this was given some time ago when a well- known chief was passing along the Akwa Yafe River. “ Suddenly,” he said, “ the canoe grew heavy, as though water-logged, and the utmost efforts of the paddlers failed to move her. After they had tried in vain for some time, an old man who was with us cried : ‘ It must be that the ghosts are holding us ! Let us pour a libation of rum into the river ! ’ This was done according to his word. In a few moments the impediment ceased, and the canoe shot through the water as if propelled by invisible hands of grateful ancestors.” A case in which a boy was stated to have been carried off and hidden beneath the river by the ghost of his dead father, presumably as a means of extracting offerings from the relatives, came before the Native Court of Oyubia on the 6th of August 1913. In this the plaintiff, Owo Ekere Aduoho, stated on oath : “ About ten months ago Oyon ’Nkap took my half- brother with him to trade up the Cross River. On his return he reported to me that the boy had died. He took copper wires and manillas and went to the Idiong diviner at Ubodo, asking him to practise the charm and see where my brother was. On his return he told me that the priest had said it was the boy’s father in the ghost town who had taken his son to himself. The diviner held out a large fish and said : ‘ If you are able to buy this fish, take it out of my hand and at once run from me and make sacrifice therewith at the entrance to the town, calling upon the name of the ghost, after which the boy will return. All this time he has been hidden beneath the river by his father’s spirit. Should you make fitting sacrifice, the ghost will relent and let his son come back to life again.’ ” From sunset to dawn a ghost can walk abroad and is given special power. (It hath its exit) at the street of Dawn (And) its entrance at the street of Sunset.1 Noon also is a dangerous time, for then the spirits often enter the market-place and walk up and down among the stalls. Buyers or sellers sometimes look up and see a wraith approaching ; then possibly something else attracts their attention, they turn their eyes away for a moment, and lo ! when they look again the apparition has vanished. At times it will disappear in the blinking of an eyelid. Abassi of Ndiya saw one such ghost as he stood, at high noon, on the edge of the market-place. It came from behind him, out of the bush, and was robed from head to foot in a long white cloth, while over one shoulder a bag was hanging. As it passed it shot out a hand and struck him so that he fell senseless to the ground. Some of the market-folk noticed his fall and ran up to help. When they had brought him to again, still feeling weak and dizzy, a wise man who chanced to be present said to him : “So soon as your glance fell upon the ghost you should have bent forward and stood waiting with closed eyes and folded hands. Then, if the wraith had struck you, you would have been left unharmed.” Although in most ways resembling the living, there is, as only to be expected, something about ghosts which distinguishes them, in an indefinable way, from beings still on this side of the great barrier. This is illustrated by the following story told by Udaw Owudumo of Ikot Atako : " There is a town called Edem Inyang, which lies not far from Eket, and thither, one day, a man was walking. On the road he met a girl who was very beautiful, but with something strange about her ; for, look as he would, he could not make out from what country she came. As she drew level with him the man stepped before her and asked : ‘ Where are you going ? ’ But she answered vaguely : ‘ I do not know. I only walk along.’ “ Now the maiden was very beautiful, young, and round limbed, so the man said : ‘ If you have nowhere else to go, come to my house.’ To this the girl answered: ‘ Very well.’ 1 R. C. Thompson, op. cit. p. 177, Tablet G. “ When home was reached, the man called to his wife and said : ‘ Here is a stranger come to visit us.’ The woman looked at the guest and asked : ‘ Whence does she come ? I do not know the fashion of her country/ The man answered: ‘ Of this I know nothing myself. I only met her walking along the road and brought her home. Please cook chop for her/ “ The wife did as she was bidden, and when all was ready, put pounded yam into a calabash and poured the soup into an earthen bowl, after which she set both before the stranger. “ No sooner had the woman turned her back than the girl took up both vessels, one after the other, and placed them upside down upon the ground. The hostess chanced to glance round and saw what had been done, so asked : ‘ Why do you do this ? ’ To which the girl replied : ‘ It is the custom of my country/ The woman said : ‘ Lift up the calabash and the bowl that I may see them/ The stranger did as she was bidden, and lo ! of all the chop which had been within nothing remained. Both were clean and dry as if they had been washed and then baked by fire. “ On this the wife began to tremble. She ran and called her husband, saying to him : ‘ It seems you have brought a guest with strange manners ! See what she has done ! ’ “ The man came and, looking steadfastly at the girl, said : ‘ I begin to suspect the name of your country.’ To which she replied : ‘You have guessed rightly. I come from the ghost town.’ “ The man asked : ‘ Can you go back ? ’ She answered : ‘ Yes.’ But he said : ‘ I will not let you go so soon ! ’ “ On that he ran outside, and returned bearing a log cut from the trunk of a coco-palm, in the midst of which a round hole had been pierced, right through from side to side. Through this he thrust the girl’s foot, and bound it round with cross-pieces of wood and stout cords, never before used and woven of tie-tie, such as that which is looped round some Juju shrines, so that she could not pull back her foot again. “ When he had thus secured her, the man said : ‘ Now tell me the secrets of the land whence you come.' But she answered : ‘ Nothing shall you learn from me. I have the power to go back when I choose. If you try to keep me, you will see that something will happen.’ “ Now the man was very proud of the capture he had made, and went out and called in the townsfolk to look upon his prisoner. “ All came in answer to his summons ; but when the old men beheld her, they said : ‘ Let her go. She is no proper girl.’ Her captor, however, answered : ' She shall stay until I have learned the secrets of her country ; for I think that this may prove very useful to me.’ “ Not long afterwards rain began to fall. Gently at first, then faster and faster. It fell for a week without stopping and so heavily that none ventured outside the houses. “ The people wondered why such torrents came at a time when rain used not to fall. So at length they collected offerings and went before the Idiong man to ask the cause of the downpour. The diviner consulted the oracle and said : ‘ It is because of the ghost-girl who was caught a week ago and is prevented from going back. So her father and mother sent this great rain.’ “ On hearing this the townsfolk went in a body to the man and said : ‘ If you will not free the ghost-girl, we will kill you.’ So he loosened her foot from the log and said ‘ Go.’ “ She answered : ‘ Before I leave, you must pay me a fine of one goat, one dog and one fowl for seizing me and wasting my time.” “ He brought what she asked and said : ‘ Take them and go.’ But she answered : ‘ Not yet. You must kill them and throw the blood upon the ground.’ “ This too he did, and she went forth from the house, walking slowly, while all the people watched her. Quite clearly they saw her, moving forward as any other girl might do, though with something strange about her, as of one who came from a far country. Suddenly, when she had gone only a little way, she vanished from sight and was never seen any more in that town.” There is a ghost, with specially ghastly attributes, which haunts lonely creeks and is never seen save after nightfall, paddling along in a canoe so old as to be a mere shell, which, like those of the poorer fisher-folk, seems only kept afloat by means of the most careful balancing. Occasionally some belated paddler, delayed by rough water unexpectedly encountered, meets this grim wraith gliding toward him in his phantom craft, lighted by a bowl of glowing embers set within, as if in preparation for the evening meal. Such are supposed to be the ghosts of men foully slain upon the waters in the pride of youth and strength, who haunt dark creeks, lowering for victims on whom to wreak their vengeance, for they hate all living men for the sake of those who drove them, untimely, forth from the light of the sun. Only in broken sentences has a victim, here and there, told something of the horror of such a meeting. Usually, should one of these unfortunates succeed in reaching home, he only arrives, crazed by the terror of the experience, to die soon after, babbling unintelligible words of dread. From the few indications obtainable, there seems to be a strong resemblance between these ghosts of the mangrove creeks and those described to me years ago by Mom Chow Tanaya, a son of the head priest of Siam and cousin of the present king, which, at certain times of the year, are thought to haunt the flooded rice fields of his country. Possibly, for the sake of comparison, his account may be not without interest here : “ Many years ago there lived a Siamese noble whose name was Sanya. He was but newly wedded to a young wife, Savad by name ; yet so devoted a fisherman was he that, one day when the rice fields were in flood, he left his bride and set forth alone to follow his favourite pursuit. “ All day long he fished over the flooded fields and twilight fell to find him far from home. Then he remembered that he had been long absent, and began to paddle back with all his might. Somehow the waters seemed endless ; he lost his bearings and steered hither and thither in the darkness, trying to find out in what direction to go. “ Time passed and still he seemed no nearer. It grew terrible, alone in the dark, and at last he stood up and called aloud in the hope that some of his servants might have come out to search for him. At first he could hear nothing but an echo of his own voice. Then an answer came from far away, and, not long afterwards, he heard the steady beat of a paddle on the water. “ Sanya turned his canoe in the direction from which the sound came, and soon saw a man like himself alone in a boat, from the end of which a dim light was shining. He hailed the new-comer, saying : ‘ My way is lost. Canst thou guide me ? ’ To which the stranger answered: ‘ Surely. Follow me.’ “ For a long time the two boats kept together, till at last Sanya could paddle no more for weariness, and called to his guide : ‘ We seem no nearer and I can do no more.’ To which the man answered : ‘ Endure yet a little. We are even there.’ “ Next moment, of a truth, the first boat struck against the bank, and the guide sprang ashore and held the canoe for his companion. The latter landed also, but could see no sign of home, only a faint light, some few yards off, like a dying fire. A chill fear struck at his heart as the guide stirred this and showed him that he had come to one of those places provided for the burning of the dead. As the fire flared, his terrible companion cried : ‘ Here is thy home.’ “ Sanya replied : ‘Jest not ! ’ But the evil being stirred the fire yet more till the bright flames played about him, and answered : ‘ Knowest thou not who I am ? The spirit of one who haunts waste places and desolate waters to wreak vengeance upon thee and all mankind who fall into his hands ! ’ “ At this Sanya laughed and said : ‘ Think not to frighten me, for I have no fear of ghosts, neither do I believe in them, but count them only as an idle tale.’ “ Upon this the fearful being, standing full in the light of the fire, placed one hand upon each side of his chest, the fingers meeting in the centre between the ribs ; then, seeming to pull with all his might, wrenched his body in two, so that the fire flickered through a great rent in the midst of it. “ At this fearful sight Sanya, sick with terror, stumbled into his canoe and pushed off, paddling with the energy of despair. After a while his servants found him, and he told them what had befallen, then fell at the bottom of the boat and died.” With change of name and with mangrove swamp as scene instead of flooded rice fields, the story might have been related, almost word for word, of the ghoul-like inhabitants of Southern Nigerian creeks. Only in one particular does it differ from the African tale in that no Ibibio would dare, thus boldly, to deny the existence of ghosts.