Much has been said of this continent in many places. All I can add is that kind of personal reminiscence which sometimes throws a new and penetrating light on what is sometimes considered to be a problem incapable of solution. I refer to my knowledge of the African people, and in particular to my knowledge of African women. If I did not spend more time among them, it was not, as has sometimes been imputed, that I was the victim of color prejudice, but that there is an archaic quality in the tribeswomen of Africa which must eternally set them at a distance from a European. This is not true, as we shall see, of Egyptians and other Arab peoples, whose cultural development was on a par with that of the early Christians and who have lent to the West, in the shape of a workable mathematical symbolism, the basis of modern science. Let anyone who doubts this attempt a complex problem of multiplication and division using only the old Roman numerals and then let him judge in what measure the Arab culture has contributed towards our own.
But I shall speak first of the dark races. I have seen Zulu girls and Swahili girls with superb figures. Statues in ebony appeal to me as keenly as statues in ivory. How then could I live among these people on the most familiar terms without yielding occasionally to passion?
I had stayed for a number of days as the guest of the headsman of the village. At first the people in the village were curious about me, but after a while they became used to my presence at their dances and at the other few social functions of the group. One night the chief, who spoke English very well, began to talk to me about women. He asked me if white women were passionate. I said that some of them were and some of them weren't.
“It is the same here in my country,” he said. “There are some who like to make love all the time and there are others who always appear to do so reluctantly.”
He, himself, had five wives, three of whom were very passionate. The other two, he said, seemed to care for nothing but their children. He asked me if I had been attracted by any of the women of the village. I smiled and said that I had had little opportunity to be close enough to any of them to feel passion for them. He laughed and said that on that very evening there was going to be a dancea kind of frenzied religious ceremonyin the public place in the village. It would take place according to tradition after sunset and it would be a fine opportunity for me to look over the unattached women. If I wished to have sexual intercourse with a girl, however, I should have to make the normal gesture to the parentsthat is, I should have to present them with a yoke of oxen. When I had done so, the girl would automatically become my spouse.
“But I cannot remain here for the rest of my life!” I laughed.
He nodded his head, smiling. That, too, could be arranged, he said. In the meantime it would be better to say nothing of my intention to leave, since many of the parents, who could accept my departure in the normal course of events would, if warned of it prior to my nuptials with their daughter, perhaps be unwilling to surrender their daughter to me. But afterwards, who could be forewarned of the will of God? Like the practical people they were, they would accept.
At sunset, I sat next to the chief and watched the males with their hideous tribal masks raising dust from the earth by the beat of their hard heels. The dance was confessedly sexualthere is no line of demarcation between religion and sexuality amongst most of the tribesmen of Africa. Religion, or rather religious experience and sexuality, are contained and expressed within a composite series of actions, gestures and genuflections, incapable of analysis into their component elements. It is not clear even to these people themselves where the frenzy of religion ends and the ecstasy of sexual passion begins. The men, feathered and masked, seemed almost to be involved in a kind of orgasm as they danced. The women, as they approached with their breasts bare and a little tail of colored cloth between their glistening black thighs, moved inwards in a loose circle about the men, obviously in the grip of some kind of lust which caused them to wish to mingle with the men. Then, suddenly, the women were in the center, huddled together and quivering, like a flock of Sabine women waiting to be taken, while the men, making obscene gestures with their plumed hips, seemed to threaten them in a way that was half ritual and half stark physical lust.
The circle was not closed. A segment had been cut out, as it were, to allow the headsman and those, among whom I was numbered, who sat about him to see deep into the center where the women quivered frenziedly in half-simulated passion.
Before the dance had gone far, I found myself looking directly into the eyes of one of those women, whose black body rippled and writhed in the torchlight. My friend, the chief, followed my glance and laid his hand on my forearm.
“You are attracted?” he whispered. “You wish to fuck her?”
I nodded without replying.
“It is easily arranged,” he said. “I am a good friend of her parents. I myself will provide the oxen and in return you can send me a gift when you return to your own country.”
I agreed immediately. The girl, her round, firm breasts smeared with some kind of oil that glistened in the light of the fire, was still undulating her hips and gazing in my direction. I desired her at once.
Without delay, the headsman sent a boy to fetch the girl's parents who, a moment later, presented themselves obediently before their chief. He spoke quickly in the native tongue. The father, a man of about fifty, nodded gravely all the while, and swiftly the chief turned to me and said that everything had been agreed upon.
The dance continued, but I noted with pleasure that the girl had broken away from the group of women who were still huddled in the center of the feathered and painted men, and that her mother took her hand immediately and led her away into the darkness.
“In five minutes,” my friend said, “a boy will come to fetch you. You will go with him and then you will be free to do as you please.”
I thanked him gratefully and waited for the return of my messenger. The whole pristine nature of this assignation caused the passion within me to become almost uncontainable. I was more than relieved when the boy arrived and waited respectfully for me to join him. I left at once after shaking hands with the headsman, who said in his broken English:
“May the night bring you much pleasure and the woman much love!”
The boy conducted me through the village to the door of a small hut which was set apart from the rest. It occurred to me to wonder whether this was the hut which was set aside for the nuptials of a first mating. Unfortunately, I always forgot to ask the headsman, so I have never been able to confirm my suspicion. The boy left me at the door. In the distance I could still see the black shadows of the dancers who hurled themselves about the fire at the far end of the village. Drawing a deep breath, I stooped and entered.
There was no light within.
At first I thought the hut was empty. There was no sign of movement. But then, suddenly, I became aware of the stenchI use the word advisedlyof my young bride. It was like no smell I had ever smelled, or rather, if one is impolite enough to suggest that European women have a smell, the present one was that of a female raised to an indescribable pitch of sexual pungency. It struck at my nostrils and caused me almost to lose courage. But I divested myself of my silly prejudice and breathed inwards deeply. What an amazing effect! The odor seemed to rise in my head like strong drink and send a soft, needling sensation over the skin of my belly and loins. Never before in my life had I felt such a powerful lust.
Still in the darkness, my eyes growing accustomed gradually, I removed my clothes. My throbbing engorged tool sprang out before me as if seeking its warm receptacle in the gloom. By this time, I had become aware of the girl's breathing. Undoubtedly, because she had been there longer than I, and because of the stark whiteness of my skin, she was now able to see me clearly, but as yet I had only the vaguest notion of her whereabouts in the hut. My erection was almost painful in its rigidity. Leaning forwards, like an animal in the forest, I tried to sense her exact position. Poor civilized creature that I was! How slow are the senses of a civilized man! I was aware of her, but I did not know where she was!
Dear girl that she was, she realized immediately the nature of my difficulty. Almost at once, I felt a warm hand close around my wrist and I was pulled forward in the darkness onto a bed of dried rushes. At first they pricked my sides painfully, but then I became overpoweringly aware of the oily softness of the body that pressed itself against me. She guided my hand to her thighs and with gratitude I began to stroke her pussy tenderly. My thumb found her clit and teased it until I could feel it swell to my touch. At the same time I inserted first one finger, then another into her accepting grotto. Her subtle movements beneath my hand combined with the darkness of the hut acted like a drug on my senses. I felt dazed and overcome by lust, my sophisticated nature being overcome by
