part of a Kaffir was a decided subjective disadvantage. Any man among
the southern Bantu tribes possessing to a remarkable degree such
attributes as strength, valour in war, or skill in the hunting-field, or
who distinguished himself by any especially notable deed, was liable to
be waylaid by the myrmidons of his chief and expeditiously killed. His
skull would then be taken to the principal of the Royal College of
Witch-doctors, who would fill it with a potion and give the gruesome cup
to be quaffed by the head of the tribe just before dawn next morning at
the gate of the calf-pen. It was held that the chief would thus acquire
in a simple, easy, and expeditious manner the much envied qualities of
the distinguished deceased.
Occasionally portions of such physical organs as were supposed to have
been specially concerned in the distinguished man's supremacy in his
particular line would be pounded up with the ashes of magical roots to
form an ingredient of the potion. Like the phrenologist, who thought to
localise certain faculties under various bumps upon the human skull, the
Kaffir doctor inferred that different organs of the human body were
respectively the seats of different mental qualities, and, further, that
it was possible to assimilate the latter through the digestive
apparatus.
When the late Kreli, chief of the Gcaleka tribe, was a young man, he was
thought to be somewhat dull and lacking in power of initiative, so a
great council of the tribe was held to decide as to what should be done
to improve the chief's understanding and sharpen his wits generally.
After long and anxious deliberation the council decided that the best
way to endow Kreli with the missing qualities was to cause him to drink
a potion out of the skull of one of the councillors--an old man of great
parts who had been an ornament to the tribal senate since long before
the death of Hintza, Kreli's father. The proposition was carried by
acclamation, there being only one dissentient. Certain rites had,
however, to precede the killing, and during the celebration of these the
distinguished possessor of the coveted skull managed to make his escape
across the colonial boundary.
The elders, no doubt shocked at the want of patriotism displayed by
their colleague, once more met, and it was then decided as an
alternative to remove the first phalanx of the little finger of the
young chiefs left hand. That the operation had the desired effect there
can be no doubt, for Kreli became astute in peace and valiant in war--
facts which the British and Colonial Governments ascertained to their
joint cost on several subsequent occasions. Since the date of that
momentous operation every youth of the Gcaleka tribe has, on reaching a
certain age, been similarly mutilated, and several other tribes have
adopted the same custom.
Half a century ago, more or less, a certain trader named John Flood had
developed a flourishing business in the present district of 'Mqanduli,
then, as now, the territory occupied by the Bomvana tribe. Flood was a
man of keen business instincts. He had, at a time when no one else
dreamt of doing such a thing, established a trading station in the very
heart of independent Kaffirland. There being no competition of any
kind, the surrounding tribes were solely dependent upon him for their
supply of civilised goods, for the general use of which they rapidly
acquired a taste. It was desperately hard work conveying the
merchandise from Cape Colony through a very rugged and absolutely
roadless country, but the large profit made quite justified the
expenditure of labour and money. Beads, brass wire, iron hoes, and
blankets were the principal lines in which this trader dealt. In
exchange he obtained large herds of cattle, which he periodically
despatched to the colonial markets.
The trading station consisted of three large huts of native make, one of
which was used as a shop, the others being respectively the trader's
sleeping apartment and kitchen. Flood had, of course, a native wife--a
girl named Nolai, daughter of a petty chief in the vicinity. I regret
to have to record that his domestic conditions were not quite
satisfactory. Nolai happened to prefer a certain young man of her own
race, who had wooed her in the days of her spinsterhood, but had been
too poor to pay the number of cattle which her astute father had
required as dowry. Twice during the first year of her married life had
Nolai absconded from the dwelling of her spouse, only, however, to be
ignominiously brought back by her brothers. Had they failed in this
duty a return of the dowry cattle would have been claimed by the
deserted husband. Flood, as a matter of fact, would have much preferred
the cattle to the uncongenial Nolai, but, apparently, her relations
shared in this preference. He had serious thoughts of taking another
and, as he hoped, more suitable wife. This, no doubt, he would have
done had it not been for the python.
The trading station was situated near the boundary of the Gcaleka
territory, the chief of which, Kreli, exercised suzerainty over and
imposed tribute upon the chief of the Bomvanas. In the vicinity of the
station was a large, dense forest full of noble timber and swarming with
wild beasts.
Among the natives of those days certain animals were looked upon as
Royal game, and the chiefs were as strict in enforcing their rights in
this respect as ever was William the Conqueror or the Plantagenets.
Each tribe had its special laws relating to this privilege, and some of
these laws were very peculiar. Of course, different tribes selected
different animals for this distinction, but among the Gcalekas and the
various clans which acknowledged Kreli as their head, "Munyu," the
python, was regarded as being more than ordinarily the special game of
the paramount chief. As a matter of fact, pythons seldom ventured so
far south as Gcalekaland, and it was probably the fact of their extreme
rarity which accounted for these creatures being so jealously reserved
for the use of the highest in the land.
The gall is well known by witch-doctors to be the seat of fierceness in
all animals. Matiwame, chief of the destroying horde of Fetcani, drank
the gall of every chief he slew, with the view of increasing that very
liberal endowment of ferocity which nature had given him. Moreover, the
gall of snakes is supposed not alone to endow the drinker thereof with
ophidian rancour and malice, but to give immunity from the effects of
snake-bite.
The wisdom of the serpent is proverbial among all the sons of Ham. Upon
several grounds, therefore, a potion made of the gall of the King of
Snakes is a thing much to be desired by any chief.
Should the chief have been fortunate enough to succeed in killing a
python he would use the skull of the creature as a cup out of which to
drink the potion. Nevertheless, the chief was by no means sorry if
someone else, allowing his passion for sport to overcome his regard for
the law, did the killing; but in such a case he would cause the
courageous sportsman to be killed as well for the purpose of obtaining
_his_ skull and gall. The two galls would then be mixed together,
divided, and quaffed in equal parts out of the respective skulls of the
python and the python's slayer.
The advantages of this arrangement must, of course, be obvious. At the
expense of probably not more inconvenience than the average Briton
undergoes in crossing from Dover to Calais when on his annual holiday,
the chief would imbibe the wisdom, the subtlety and the ferocity of the
serpent, as well as the prowess of the mighty man who had conquered it.
What, indeed, could be simpler or more satisfactory.
One fateful day in middle spring the trader happened to be riding along
the edge of the big forest, looking for a horse which had strayed. He
carried his double-barrelled gun, for guinea-fowl abounded, and he was
desirous of shooting a couple for his supper. Suddenly his pony swerved
wildly to one side with a violent snort, and John Flood measured his
length upon the ground. The pony galloped homeward mad with fright.
The trader rose to his feet, recovered his gun and looked quickly in the
direction of the spot from which his pony had recoiled in such terror.
There he saw an immense python climbing sinuously and with deliberation
into a large thorn-tree. The snake was so intent upon a monkey which
sat, fascinated and rigid, in the upper branches, that it appeared to
take no notice of the man. It was a monster, and had evidently quite
recently sloughed its skin after the long winter's sleep, for its scales
gleamed gloriously in the brilliant afternoon sunshine. Rhythmic
muscular tremors ran up and down its coiling length, bringing the vivid
brown, green, and golden patterns into changing prominence.
Flood, who was not wanting in either courage or coolness, watched his
opportunity, and poured a charge of shot into the python's neck, just
behind the head, at point-blank range. Then the monstrous creature
crushed the branches of the tree like a wisp in its death agony during
one appalling minute, and the monkey, relieved from its fascination,
made off into the forest with voluble chatterings, in which, no doubt,
miscellaneously profane monkey language was mingled with uncomplimentary
remarks about ophidians in general and pythons in particular.
John Flood, exceedingly stiff from the effects of his fall, obtained
assistance and dragged his quarry home in triumph. The shop happened at
the time to be surrounded by customers waiting patiently for the return
of the proprietor. Through the medium of these the half of Bomvanaland
was apprised of the doughty deed within a few hours. Among others who
heard the important news was the head witch-doctor of the Bomvana chief,
who at once sought an audience with his master. The chief was a young
man who had as yet found no opportunity of distinguishing himself.
A council was at once called hurriedly together. The deliberations of
this body were short but decisive. Within half an hour a strong body of
armed men were on their way to the trader's, with strict orders to seize
the carcase of the python at all costs and convey it to the "Great
Place." The witch-doctor, clad in the varied and alarming insignia of
his office, acted as leader.
John Flood was extremely proud of his achievement, and Nolai thought far
more of her husband than ever before. He had done a notable deed; one
which would be talked of at all the kraals in the land for years to
come, and she would shine with reflected glory. She had been planning
another and more determined effort to break the galling conjugal yoke,
but under this new development she determined to postpone action. Her
lover, brave as he no doubt was, had never killed a python--nor could
she hope he was likely ever to do so. She glanced at the gleaming coils
of the dead monster, and shuddered with mingled terror and enjoyment--a
complex sensation well known to the feminine bosom, no matter what be
its colour. The cold, dead, lidless eyes fascinated her almost as much
as they had the monkey. There is a widespread belief among natives to
the effect that women often have snakes as their lovers. Nolai wondered
how any woman could love such a terrific creature. All the same, she
made up her mind that should she ever bear a son she would call his name
"Munyu."
The party from the "Great Place" was overtaken by night before it
reached the trader's. The witch-doctor, who stalked majestically in
front, found it necessary to call a halt every now and then for the
purpose of letting off his excitement by violent dancing, during which
the bones and bladders which were festooned all over him made an
appalling rattle, and by loud yellings. The party found the trader
engaged in skinning the snake by the light of a fire in front of his
shop, and in the presence of a large number of spectators. The
witch-doctor ordered the proceedings at once to stop, and then seized
hold of the python's tail. A wild wrangle ensued. The rest of the
party, who rather liked the trader, stood aside whilst he and the
witch-doctor engaged in a sort of tug-of-war, in the course of which--
Flood being by far the stronger man of the two--the witch-doctor was
hauled ignominiously around the premises. The trader, rendered
mettlesome by his exploit, absolutely refused to give the carcase up, so
the witch-doctor called upon his companions, in terms of their
allegiance to the chief, to assist him. A compromise was eventually
arrived at. Flood only valued the skin, whereas the witch-doctor knew
that the parts most valuable for magical purposes were the head and the
gall. Moreover, he did not quite know if the terms of his commission
included the killing of the trader in the event of a refusal on his part
to give up the prey, especially as the trader was known to be more or
less of a favourite with the powerful Gcaleka chief. It took until
nearly midnight to settle the difficulty, and then the witch-doctor
marched off in somewhat qualified triumph with the python's head in his
skin wallet and the gall-bladder tied securely at the end of a small
stick, which he held carefully before him at arm's length. The Bomvana
chief, although he grumbled somewhat at not getting the complete
carcase, was, on the whole, fairly well satisfied.
After making his report the witch-doctor at once went to work upon his
magical rites, and he worked with such effect that he was able to
administer the gall of the python, in its skull, to his august master
next morning. The function took place, with all due solemnity, before
daybreak, at the gate of the calf-pen. History does not record whether
the potion acted as an emetic or not, but it may be safely assumed that
the chief made an exceedingly wry face.
But this by no means closed the incident. Kreli, the Bomvana chief's
suzerain, came to hear of the slaying of the serpent, and his
indignation waxed great when the seizure of the skull and gall by his
vassal was reported to him. The head of the Royal College of Gcaleka
Witch-doctors worked upon the chief's feelings to such an extent that
his indignation grew to fury. How, he asked, in a wrathful message,
could his vassal dare to infringe upon the Royal prerogative in such an
unheard-of manner? The message followed with a demand for immediate
surrender of the skull, and ended with a threat of war in the event of
non-compliance. It was, in fact, an ultimatum.
The ideas of the Bomvana chief on the subject of suzerainty were
probably as different from those of Kreli as President Kruger's were
from those of Mr Chamberlain, but he wisely refrained from arguing the
point. In a penitent and conciliatory message he apologised for what
had occurred, and expressed deep regret that, quite outside his orders
on the subject, the python's skull had been burnt into powder for
medicinal purposes by his witch-doctor.
A portion of the powder--all, in fact, that was left--he begged leave to
send to his suzerain in the horn of a bushbuck, and he could only hope,
loyally, that the same would turn out as efficacious as such medicine
was generally supposed to be. This powder had, on the approach of
Kreli's party becoming known, been prepared from the bones of a crow
knocked over for the purpose by one of the boys at the kraal with his
stick.
Kreli was by no means taken in by the bushbuck horn and its contents.
His indignation at being tricked was boundless, and the only thing which
prevented him from sending an army into Bomvanaland to "eat up" the
chief was the fact that he was in daily expectation of a declaration of
war on the part of Umtirara, chief of the Tembu tribe. But the matter
was far too important to be allowed to drop, so he called a great
council of the "Izibonda" (literally "poles," such as those which
support the roof of a hut) or elders, as well as the numerous petty
chiefs who owned his sway and basked in the reflection of his power.
A few days afterwards the great council met at Kreli's "Great Place,"
the exact spot of assembly being the "inkundhla," or gate of the big
cattle enclosure. One by one the grey-headed peers arrived, each with a
face of extreme gravity, as suited the momentous occasion. Deliberative
assemblies of this class are much enjoyed by natives, especially by
those who have passed the age of exuberant physical vitality. They give
opportunity for the exercise of those faculties of oratory and argument
which the Kaffir possesses to such a remarkable degree.
The matter had now assumed national importance. That the paramount
chief should have been tricked out of so favourable an opportunity for
adding to his wisdom, his subtlety and his fierceness, particularly at
the time when he was on the eve of going to war with another powerful
potentate, was unfortunate and inopportune in the last degree. It was
subversive to the dignity of the tribe which proudly derived its name
from the mighty Gcaleka; it was revolutionary, socialistic, or whatever
the current equivalents of these terms happened to be. Why, if such a
thing came to be talked of among the surrounding clans, not alone would
it bring the Gcaleka nation into contempt, but Kreli would probably lose
allies in his coming struggle with the Tembus. Something, clearly, must
be done--but what?
The councillors deliberated for three days without coming to a decision,
and it was then that the principal witch-doctor showed a way out of the
condition of dead-lock. In the middle of a wild babel, in which
everyone was shouting his opinion as he could, this great man arose to
his feet and discarded his kaross. Then he aimed a glance of scathing
contempt at the war-doctor, with whom he had been bickering considerably
throughout the meeting. A hush at once fell upon the assembly as he
spoke--
"O chief and councillors of the Gcaleka nation, we are all agreed that
the matter of the python cannot be allowed to rest, but we have been
unable to agree as to what action should be taken. Hear, then, my
words, and let the chief say if they be not words of wisdom.
"I am, as you all know, not a fighting man; my wars are with the secret
evil-doer, so I cannot give an opinion as to your decision to refrain
from `eating up' the Bomvana chief. But this thought comes to me: we
have all heard the words of the war-doctor. Now, if those words be
true, what is the ground for your hesitation? Did he not say that after
the warriors had been sprinkled with the boiling root-broth, and had
sprung through the magic smoke, they would become so terrible that a
hundred of the enemy would flee from one of them? But let that pass.
The chief has decided in his sagacity--or, perhaps, owing to your
advice--which his father, the great Hintza, urged him to follow in
important matters, that he will not make the python an occasion of war
at the present time.
"It is not for me, a servant, to question the decisions of my chief, or
to ask how it is, in view of the promises of the war-doctor, that you
hesitate from advising that the warriors be at once led to victory. But
it is my duty to reveal what was told to me in a vision. Know, then,
that `Munyu,' which was slain by Folodi, the European, was a messenger
sent by the `Imishologu' (Ancestral spirits) to convey tokens of their
favour to Kreli, and that if the qualities of the serpent be wholly lost
to our chief, the `Imishologu' will turn their faces from us in the hour
of danger.
"As to this"--here he produced the bushbuck horn sent by the Bomvana
chief, and scornfully scattered its contents upon the ground, after
which he hurled the horn away over the heads of his hearers.
"What, then, must be done?" he continued. "Why, this: If the chief
cannot obtain the skull and gall of `Munyu,' there is nothing to prevent
him getting the skull and gall of `Munyu's' slayer. The European has
vanquished the snake, therefore is he greater than the snake. Bring
unto me this man's head and gall, and I will prepare a draught for Kreli
which will make him so wise and subtle that you will all be as children
before him, and so fierce that the warriors of Umtirara will flee from
before his face."
The witch-doctor resumed his seat amid guttural murmurs of approval, and
the councillors, glad to have such an easy way indicated out of a thorny
situation, adopted his proposal on the spot. Nothing now remained to be
done but to organise a killing party and despatch it to the residence of
the unsuspecting trader.
The witch-doctor pronounced the current state of the moon to be
propitious, so messengers were at once sent to warn a sufficient number
of men from the surrounding kraals for immediate duty.
It is usually and mistakenly considered that Kaffirs are absolutely
deficient in gratitude. If such were the case John Flood would have
come to a sudden end, most probably, since his skull was required
intact, by strangling with a thong. But there happened to be present at
the council a man whom the trader had once successfully treated for a
serious illness after the native doctors had pronounced his case to be
hopeless. In the middle of the night Flood was awakened by a tap at the
door of his sleeping hut. Without opening the door he asked who it was
that wanted him.
"It is I, Fanti. Open the door."
Flood at once admitted the man, who, immediately upon entering, blew out
the candle which the trader held in his hand.
"Folodi," he said, in an agitated whisper, "put the saddle on your best
horse, and get to the other side of the Kei River as soon as you can."
"Why--what have I done?" queried the astonished trader.
"It is the matter of the python which you killed, and of which the
Bomvana chief drank the gall. Kreli is going to war, and he means to
have _your_ skull and to drink _your_ gall out of it on the day the army
is doctored. You are now a very great man because you slew `Munyu,' and
the chief wants your greatness for himself."
"But Kreli is my friend," said Flood, with a considerable tremor in his
voice, "and I am not one of his own men to kill at his pleasure. I
never heard of such a thing in my life--I--I--"
"Folodi," interrupted Fanti in a tone which carried conviction, "the men
are now on the way to kill you, led by the witch-doctor. Go or stay as
you please, but I have told you the truth, and I can wait no longer to
risk having my neck twisted."
As he spoke the last words Fanti glided out of the hut, and vanished
like a ghost. John Flood knew the customs of the natives better, I
fear, than he knew his prayers, so he stood not upon the order of his
going. He pulled down the bars of the kraal entrance so as to let the
cattle go free. After this he hurriedly put on his best suit of
clothes, and took down his trusty double-barrelled gun and its
appurtenances from where they hung to the wattled roof. Then he saddled
his best pony.
He took a last look at the goods upon his shelves. The stock had
recently been added to; it was very hard to have to abandon it.
He did not awaken Nolai, who slept in the kitchen. He knew that her
father would take her home, and that the law of the land required that
she should be comfortably maintained until she again married, out of the
dowry cattle. He was glad there were no children to complicate matters.
After he had mounted his pony, John Flood sat for a moment and gazed
with emotion upon the spot where he had spent several contented years.
Just as he was about to start he bethought himself of the python's skin.
He had carefully dried it, and it lay in a coil upon one of the shelves
in the shop. That, at all events, he determined they should not have,
so he dismounted, re-entered the hut, and fetched the trophy, which he
tied with a thong to the side of his saddle. Then he turned and rode
sadly, though swiftly, away.
Flood knew every inch of the country, so he had no difficulty in
reaching the Colonial boundary. His first halt was made at a forest
which he reached shortly before daybreak, and in which he mournfully
spent the long summer's day. The only thing which consoled him in his
tribulations was the thought that he had managed to remove the skin of
the python out of the reach of Kreli and the witch-doctors.