"O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this
death?" _Romans_ VII, 24.
_One_.
Omfunda sat smoking his pipe alongside the fire he had lit close to the
spring gushing out at the foot of the big cliff at the upper end of
Krantz Vogel Kloof. The cliff arose sheer three hundred feet, and at
each side of it the steep, broken terraces of the mountain, covered with
huddled patches of immense boulders, swelled out into mighty flanks.
From between the boulders gnarled and stunted trees grew, rooted in soil
so deep down in the fissures that it could not be seen. Here and there
dark, ragged-edged chasms yawned. These boulder-patches were bordered
by fringes of scrubby forest, outside which grew coarse, matted grass.
It was a hot day in late spring, and Nomfunda felt drowsy. The
bleatings of a flock of sheep came faintly to his ear. His dog lay
curled up at his feet. The day was at noon. A light breeze hushed
faintly through the tree-tops, soothing as the whisper of Somnus, and
then died away. Nomfunda slept.
Nomfunda was the shepherd of Sarel Marais, the proprietor of the farm
which took its name from the thickly-wooded kloof at the head of which
he, Nomfunda, lay sleeping. Sarel Marais had over and over again warned
him not to come with his sheep to this neighbourhood, for the reason
that animals were so apt to get lost in the broken ground through
falling into the fissures; and Sarel's eldest son "Rooi Jan"--so called
on account of his red hair--had sworn to have Nomfunda's life if he ever
again disobeyed in this respect. However, on the present occasion
Nomfunda felt safe, for old Sarel was absent from home, and "Rooi Jan"
had only a few hours previously departed on horseback for a farm several
"hours" distant, where the girl he meant to marry in a few months' time
resided.
The foot of the cliff where the spring gushed out had a peculiar
fascination for Nomfunda. It was cool on the hottest day. The water
plashed from under a jutting ledge and scattered moisture over luxuriant
masses of fern. The "umgwenya," or "Kafir plum," grew plentifully in
the forest close at hand, and the holes in the porous cliff were full of
bees' nests brimming with the storage of industrious years. These bees
were of the small, black, forest variety, which is celebrated as being
extremely savage when interfered with; this fact, and the
inaccessibility of the nests, accounted for their still being in
existence. However, Nomfunda was an expert and daring honey-hunter, and
was extremely pachydermatous; he hardly ever came to this spot without
plundering a nest and feeding on honey to repletion.
Moreover, an antelope known as the "klipspringer" was to be found in
large numbers in the neighbourhood, and Nomfunda's dog thoroughly
understood the way to circumvent this animal. Sometimes, quite on its
own account, the dog would drive a buck to the point of some
rock-pinnacle in the vicinity, and there hold it prisoner until
Nomfunda, guided by the dog's baying, would hurry to the spot and knock
the buck over with his knob-kerrie. This dog was an utter mongrel
showing traces of extremely diverse canine types. Its enemies declared
they could even see a great deal of the jackal in it. The dog was,
however, utterly faithful to its master, and had a wonderful knack of
bailing up "klipspringers." One peculiarity of the animal's was that it
never barked.
When Nomfunda awoke it was to find "Rooi Jan," gun in hand, watching
him. Nomfunda instinctively grasped his knob-kerrie, which lay on the
ground next to him, and sprang to his feet. The dog ran behind its
master and crouched, showing its teeth. "Rooi Jan" regarded Nomfunda in
silence for some seconds, and Nomfunda returned his gaze. Then "Rooi
Jan" spoke, using the Dutch language, which Nomfunda, who had worked
among the Boers for several years, understood fairly well.
"Did I not tell you never to bring the sheep up here?"
"Ja, Baas." ["Yes, Master."]
"Did I not tell you that if ever you did, I would shoot you for the d--d
Kafir dog that you are?"
"Ja, Baas."
"Then," uttered "Rooi Jan," his face distorted with fury, and his voice
coming in husky gasps, as he deliberately, one after the other, drew
back the hammers of his double-barrelled gun, "to-day will I do it;
to-day you are dead; to-day will your black carcase lie down among the
rocks with the bones of the sheep that you--"
Nomfunda had all this time kept his eyes on the face of the enraged
Boer, and when, blind and quivering, "Rooi Jan" lifted the gun to his
shoulder, Nomfunda sprang to one side, whilst the charge of buck-shot
passed so close to his head that he felt the wind of it. Then, as "Rooi
Jan," cursing his own clumsiness, was again raising the gun to his
shoulder, Nomfunda lifted his knob-kerrie and flung it with all his
force. The heavy knob caught "Rooi Jan" on the left temple, and he fell
backwards, and lay on the ground motionless.
Nomfunda had no idea that "Rooi Jan" was seriously injured. The first
thing he did was to seize the gun and pitch it down the kloof into a
very thick patch of fern. Then he picked up his kerrie, returned to the
seat he had occupied when "Rooi Jan" arrived, and sat down to await
developments. He knew he had done wrong, and was prepared, as natives
generally are, to take his punishment like a man. The dog became very
uneasy; it began to whine and cowered against its master, with ears
cocked, tail tucked under, and hair on end all along the back.
Nomfunda sat for a long time wondering why "Rooi Jan" did not move.
Then he stood up and examined the injured man, who had fallen on his
back across a flat stone. His head lay back and his mouth was wide
open. A very small trickle of blood came from his left temple, and
dabbled his hair. Nomfunda plucked a delicate frond of fern and held it
in front of "Rooi Jan's" gaping mouth and nostrils. It moved only to
the trembling of the hand that held it.
For a long time Nomfunda could not realise what had happened; surely, he
thought, a little wound like that could not cause death. Then the
shadows began to fall the other way, the brown hawks came screaming out
of their nests in the cliff, and the bees came up the kloof in a steady
stream. Still "Rooi Jan" lay motionless, the ghastly pallor of his face
and stretched throat contrasting forcibly with the vivid red of his hair
and beard. Large, blue flies buzzed round in ever-increasing numbers,
and eventually a few of them settled on the nostrils and lips of the
corpse. Then Nomfunda realised that his master's son was dead and that
he had killed him.
The wretched man already felt the strangling rope around his neck. He
was young and he loved his life. A flush of hope passed through him.
No one saw the deed--he would hide the body down one of the clefts. No,
that would not do; a search was sure to be made about here, and the
smell would betray the hiding-place. The body must be hidden far away,
high up on the mountain, in some secret place where it would never be
discovered.
Nomfunda was of powerful build, and "Rooi Jan" had not been a very big
man. The blood had long since ceased trickling, so after carefully
removing the small quantity that had stained the stones, Nomfunda lifted
the corpse upon his shoulder and began ascending the steep
mountain-side. His course laid for the most part through cover, but he
had now and then to emerge into comparatively open spaces. Each time,
before doing this, he carefully reconnoitred, but not a human being was
in sight in any direction. At length he reached the bleak and broken
top of the mountain, and then he made straight for a small cavern he
knew of, the mouth of which was concealed by shrubs. Here he laid the
body, and after carefully re-adjusting the shrubs at the entrance, he
returned to his sheep by a different course. The flock was scattered
along the flanks of the mountain; he at once collected it and drove it
down to the kraal at the homestead, where he arrived at the usual time.
Then he joined the other servants in the hut wherein they dwelt
together, cooked and ate his supper and laid himself down wrapped in his
blanket,--just as though nothing had happened. But he lay awake during
the whole night, thinking of "Rooi Jan," whilst the dogs howled weirdly
beneath the unregarding stars.
_Two_.
The disappearance of "Rooi Jan" caused great surprise and uneasiness.
He had left the homestead early in the morning after an early breakfast,
with the avowed intention of visiting the farm of Jacob Venter, which
was situated about fifteen miles away, and where the girl lived to whom
he was engaged to be married. He meant to return during the afternoon
of the same day. It now transpired that he had not reached Venter's
farm. Each one of the servants, including Nomfunda, was closely
questioned, but apparently nothing had been seen of the missing man
since he disappeared riding along the road which scarped round the bluff
just below the homestead, early in the morning. The spoor of his horse
was traced along the road from here by an old Hottentot named Gezwint,
who was celebrated as a tracker. This spoor was found to lead along the
road for some distance, and then turn abruptly to the left towards the
wooded kloof, at the upper end of which, four miles away, "Rooi Jan" had
met his doom. It was late in the afternoon when the fact of the spoor
turning out of the road was discovered, and night fell before it could
be traced to any distance worth speaking of from this point.
Next morning at daylight the tracking was resumed. Old Sarel Marais had
been sent for, but had not yet arrived. Several of the neighbouring
farmers had been sent for to come and assist in the search. The party
on the spoor consisted of old Gezwint, "Rooi Jan's" younger brothers
Piet and Willem--aged, respectively, fifteen and fourteen years--six
young farmers, and several native farm servants. Old Gezwint worked
like a bloodhound, deciphering almost invisible signs upon the rough,
stony ground, and casting back whenever at fault. On again verifying
the spoor after a check, he would call out "Hier's hij" ("Here he is"),
and again run forward on the slot, followed at a respectful distance by
the others, who left the real business of the tracking to his well-known
skill. It was at about noon that they came upon "Rooi Jan's" grey mare,
saddled and bridled, and tied to a tree deep in the bush. From this
point they followed swiftly and without a check the slot of a boot up
the kloof to the spring under the cliff. Here the spoor ceased. They
found the remains of a recent fire, and the tracks of naked human feet,
and of a dog. Beyond this point a spoor was hardly to be hoped for
because of the nature of the ground. They spent the rest of the day in
searching among the rocky chasms, but when night fell they had found no
further track, nor any sign of the missing man. Upon the search party
reaching the homestead an hour later, it was found that the flock of
sheep had not been brought back to the kraal, and that Nomfunda, the
shepherd, was missing.
_Three_.
Nomfunda was herding his sheep on the open, grassy slope to the
left-hand side of the kloof when the search party was at work. The day
was clear and still, and he could tell the whereabouts of the trackers
from the shouts which arose from time to time. As the trackers advanced
towards the head of the kloof, Nomfunda drove his flock along the
hill-side by a parallel course until the broken ground was almost
reached. Then he darted past the flock, and taking a course still
further to the right, through some scrub, he worked his round-about way
to the top of the cliff overhanging the scene of the tragedy. Here he
lay down just above a jutting bush, through the branches of which he
could see without being seen.
He saw the party emerge from the forest and disappear out of the range
of his vision under the ledge where the spring gushed out. He could
faintly hear the sound of voices, but without being able to distinguish
the words. After a while he saw the men emerge and scatter about among
the rocks, searching. He made sure they had found the gun, but had no
fear just then of their being able to trace the body. It was almost
dark when the party withdrew, but Nomfunda had been so absorbed in
watching their operations that he had lost all recollection of his
sheep. He had been in a state of complete fascination during the whole
afternoon. Sometimes one or other of the searchers would take more or
less the course along which the body had been carried up the mountain.
When such happened, the unfortunate culprit would give himself up for
lost: the cavern would inevitably be found and searched. Then the man
who caused his uneasiness would proceed in another direction, and a
joyous, unreasoning relief would take possession of the watcher, only to
be dissipated when one of the others would accidentally take the former
course.
The stars came out one by one, and at length the last shred of daylight
died out of the sky. Then Nomfunda sat up and considered. He had lain
on the same spot and in the same position for hours and hours. He began
to collect his wandering wits. He suddenly remembered his sheep. Why
had he come up on the mountain at all? he asked himself in desperation.
He could not now return, for it would be impossible for him to give an
explanation of his absence. Why had he not returned with his flock at
sundown? Fool, fool--thus to tie the rope around his own neck. No, it
would never do to return. He must escape;--but where to? The alarm had
been given; he was known to everybody in the neighbourhood, and all
would now be on the watch after he had practically admitted his guilt by
remaining away from the homestead just when he ought to have been most
particular to avoid any conduct calculated to cause suspicion. No, he
must remain on the mountain,--for some time at all events. He had his
day's ration with him, but it was still untouched, for all day long he
had been unable to eat. He was now hungry, but he determined to keep
the food for the morrow. The dog had lain quietly next to him all day;
its ears were cocked, its dilated nostrils were continuously working,
and the ridge of hair along the back was still erect.
Next morning's dawn found Nomfunda still lying at the edge of the cliff,
and the searchers again at work among the fissures. It was, they made
sure, in one or the other of these that the body of "Rooi Jan" would be
found concealed. Since the disappearance of Nomfunda, everybody was
certain he had murdered the "Klein Baas," ["Little Master"], as "Rooi
Jan" was called. The whole forenoon was wasted on the lower parts of
the mountain. Nomfunda still lay on the top of the cliff and watched
the searchers. He now suffered from a burning thirst, but until
nightfall he must endure this physical, in addition to his mental
misery.
Early in the afternoon a shrill yell of "Hier's hij" arose from Gezwint,
the old sleuth-Hottentot. He had again found the spoor. All that could
be seen was a frayed pad of lichen on a sloping stone, higher up than
any of the other searchers had reached. From this stone the spoor was
taken on slowly and with difficulty until sundown, by which time it had
been verified to the very top of the mountain, and within about four
hundred yards of where the haggard watcher lay, enduring more than the
agonies of death, at his post on the edge of the cliff.
But the spoor could then be traced no further, and the nature of the
ground rendered it extremely unlikely that any more tracks would be
found. The top of the mountain was composed of flat stones lying
closely together, and bare even of lichen.
At nightfall the searchers again returned to the homestead, and Nomfunda
hurried down the mountain to the spring, from which he drank his fill of
the pure, cold, delicious water, the dog lapping next to him. Then he
again ascended the mountain, stepping carefully from stone to stone so
as to avoid making a spoor. In places where the stones were not
continuous he carried the dog in his arms. He knew the animal was a
source of danger to him, and he thought of tying its mouth up and its
legs together and cutting its throat, but he remembered that the signs
of the deed would be so much more to conceal, and, moreover, he could
not endure the thought of the utter loneliness which would be his lot
without the dog's companionship.
At midnight Nomfunda was sitting on a stone near the very summit of the
mountain. The place where the body was concealed was about half-a-mile
from him. The night was cold, but he did not feel any inconvenience
although clothed only in a threadbare cotton blanket. He had been for
two days almost without food, and for three nights he had not slept, yet
he knew neither hunger nor fatigue. Just then he felt fairly
comfortable. He was quite easy in his mind about the body; it would
never be found--none of the searchers would ever dream of looking in
that cave--probably none of them even knew of its existence... Nomfunda
sprang to his feet and gasped for breath, whilst his very heart seemed
to freeze in his breast. Had he not _himself_ shown this very cave to
young Piet, "Rooi Jan's" brother, one day when they together were
seeking strayed horses about two years ago? Fool, and again fool! Why
had he hidden the body there? Talking over the events of the day down
at the homestead, young Piet had probably by this told the others about
the cave. It was certain to be visited next day--probably early in the
morning. What was there to be done? An unspeakable solution of the
difficulty kept suggesting itself, but he drove the frightful notion
from him over and over again. At length it overwhelmed him like the
slime of a serpent that drenches a crushed victim about to be swallowed.
He must enter the charnel cave, and remove the body to some other
hiding-place. But the horror of it! There is nothing so horrifying to
a native as having to handle a dead body... "Rooi Jan" had been dead
nearly three days... He felt through every fibre of his tortured being
that he could _not_ do this thing. But he _must_. The body must not be
found. Until the body were found there was only suspicion against him;
not proof. Yes, _it_ must be done, so get it over quickly and then
laugh at danger. He caught up the dog again in his arms and fled,
leaping from stone to stone, towards the cave. Before he reached it he
had made up his mind as to what he should do with the corpse. There was
another cave in an adjoining mountain about four miles away, and in a
very inaccessible place. Fool, and again fool, not to have thought of
this spot in the first instance.
Nomfunda readied the mouth of the cave and, throwing down the dog, burst
through the bushes into the charnel-house. He tore a strip off his
blanket and tied it over his mouth and nostrils. Then he caught up the
body, which lay horribly limp in his arms. He seemed to be endowed with
more than human strength. The frightful _thing_ seemed to cling to him
as it lay across his shoulders, and one loosely-hanging hand patted him
gruesomely on the bare flesh of his flank with rhythm corresponding to
his steps. His course led over bare, flat, rocky ledges. Here and
there he sat down to rest. He noticed that the dog, although it
followed, did not come near him. Day was just breaking when he reached
the other cave. He entered at once, and placed the body in a cleft at
the further extremity, piling up stones, which he felt for in the
darkness, against it. One of these slipped down, and Nomfunda thought
he heard the body move. He gave a wild shriek and rushed outside. It
was broad daylight. The dog heard his steps and ran forward to meet
him. When it caught sight of his face the dog stopped short and stood
rigid with uplifted paw, and a tingling ridge of hair erected along its
back. Then it gave a terrible howl, turned, and fled. It never
returned to him.
All day long the wretched Nomfunda lay beneath the undermined bank of a
donga. Reeds and long grass concealed his hiding-place. When night
fell, he again visited the spring, drank his fill of water, and
plundered a bees' nest in the cliff, from which he had only recently
removed nearly all the honey. The combs were now full of bee-bread and
young bees. These were better as food for him just then than mere honey
would have been. After this he re-ascended the mountain and again
concealed himself in the donga, where he fell into a deep sleep. This
was the first time he had slept since the death of "Rooi Jan." He was
awakened early in the forenoon of the next day by voices. The speakers
stood so close that he could hear what they were saying. Their speech
was to the effect that in the event of the present day's search proving
unsuccessful they would on the following day overhaul the adjacent
mountain, in which it was known that several caves existed. The
wretched listener nearly expired from sheer terror. When night fell he
emerged from his den and hurried to the second sepulchre of "Rooi Jan."
The body must again be removed. The moon was new and sank soon after
the sun. He reached the cave and grovelled upon the ground before the
entrance in terror and anguish. But the awful deed had to be done. He
entered; the air was horribly foetid. One by one, with dreadful
groanings, he dragged away the piled-up stones, and then, trying to hold
his breath, he bore the corpse out into the pure air of the spring
night. Then, shutting his teeth tight, he lifted the swollen horror to
his shoulders and carried it in the direction of its former
resting-place. He knew of another secret spot--a deep cleft near the
edge of the clift overhanging the spring. He reached this spot with his
ghastly burthen just before dawn. He rolled the body into the cleft and
covered it with small bushes and handfuls of grass which he pulled out.
After this he concealed himself in another cleft in the vicinity.
Shortly after daybreak he saw the searchers again ascending the kloof,
one of them leading his dog by a rein fastened to its neck. They passed
over the mountain to his left, and he did not again see them until they
returned in the evening. About mid-day he saw his dog, which had
evidently escaped, running as hard as ever it could down the mountain
towards the homestead, with the rein trailing from its neck.
Nomfunda remained three weeks upon the mountain, and nine separate times
he took the body of "Rooi Jan" on his shoulders at the last
hiding-place, and, limping on lacerated and bleeding feet, removed it to
another. The moon grew night by night in soft splendour, and looked
down upon the awful spectacle of a putrid human corpse being carried
from place to place by a human being. The tempest wrapped the mountain
in flame and roarings, and the rain-charged wind buffeted the quick and
the dead thus linked together by a gruesome prank of Fate. The pure
breath of the midnight mountain breeze hurried on to rid itself of the
taint left by the gross gases of mortality which the earth should have
sealed up in its transmuting alembic, and the clear mountain height,
sacred to the most cleanly influences of Nature, was polluted by the
ghoul-wanderings of a terrific creature bearing an unspeakable burthen,
whom horror had deprived of the semblance of humanity.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sequel to this narrative may be found in the records of a certain
Circuit Court and the (more or less) thirty-year-old files of some
Colonial newspapers. It may therein be read how old Gezwint was
perplexed by the fresh spoors which he found from time to time; these
sometimes showing signs of blood. Further, how the searchers eventually
determined to remain on the mountain by night, where they then scattered
about in pairs; how two of the searchers, concealed one night near a
certain footpath, were startled by the sound of heavy groanings,
followed by the rustle of staggering footsteps and an awful stench; how
they then captured Nomfunda carrying what had once been the body of
"Rooi Jan" Marais. He made no resistance, and they led him away to
prison. His aspect was such as to strike dread into all who beheld him.
It may also be ascertained from the same sources how Nomfunda was tried
for murder by a jury composed of Dutch farmers, found guilty without any
recommendation to mercy, and sentenced to be hanged by the neck till he
was dead; how a certain minister of the United Presbyterian Church
obtained access to the condemned man, heard his story, believed it, went
to the scene of the initial tragedy, and found "Rooi Jan's" gun where it
was still concealed, with one barrel empty and one yet loaded; how
representations were made to the proper quarter with the effect that the
death-sentence was commuted to imprisonment for life. One somehow fails
to see clearly either the justice or mercy of this particular
commutation. Possibly Nomfunda is still serving out his sentence.