NATIVE DOCTORS--THOKOLOSI--MOLOI--WARFARE--PROVERBS.
Each chief has his own especial rain-maker, who is also the "Ngaka," or
doctor. These men are held in great veneration by the people, who firmly
believe they are possessed of supernatural power. Of course the "Ngaka"
encourages this belief in every possible way, playing upon the credulity
of his victims with the solemnity of a seer of old. He makes a paying
business of it, too, exacting a goat or sheep, or even several head of
cattle, as payment, according to the magnitude of the service performed
by him. He knows the family history of each individual in his particular
district, and, in a quiet, unnoticed way, finds out everything likely to
be of use to him either in his profession as doctor or as prophet. He is
a student of nature to no small degree, and certainly possesses a wide
knowledge of the use of herbs. He has a wonderful magnetic influence
over others, the result, I suppose, of superior brain development.
When rain is needed, the chief calls the "Ngaka," who, armed with his
divining rod, arrives at the khotla to hear what is required of him. He
then proceeds to "doctor" the rod with a black pigment and human blood
(I fancy in the remote past a human victim was always sacrificed, but
times are changed, and a few drops of blood are all the rain-god now
requires). The people assemble in the village and watch him as he
ascends the nearest mountain. When on the summit, he raises his rod
heavenward, and calls "Pula ha-e-na a bolokue" (Rain come down and save
us). This he does several times, and goes through a considerable amount
of pantomime; but, as no one is allowed to go near him, only his
gestures can be followed after that one loud call. When he is satisfied
that rain is coming, he runs back to the village singing. The people
join him, and indulge in feasting and merry-making. If, after seven
days, no rain comes, there is something wrong with the divining-rod,
which has displeased the rain-god, so the rod is again "doctored," and
"Ngaka" goes off once more to the mountain, where he remains in
supplication until "he brings down rain." In reality, these men consult
the heavens before consenting to make rain, and consequently are seldom
unsuccessful.
Certain children are selected, in infancy or early childhood, to be made
doctors. Their poor little bodies are cut, and various "medicines"
rubbed into the wounds, which bestow powers of divination, of healing,
and of witchcraft upon the children. They become restless and unable to
sleep in the hut at night, and, as their minds develop, they are trained
by the old doctors to succeed them.
There is in Basutoland a little creature of whom all stand in awe. He is
not much bigger than a baboon, but is minus the tail, and is perfectly
black, with a quantity of black hair on his body. He has hands and feet
like an ordinary mortal, but is never heard to speak. He shuns the
daylight, and abhors clothing, even in the coldest weather. Evidently he
is above such sensations as heat and cold. This wonderful little
creature is "Thokolosi," the Poisoner, the Evil One, whose deeds are
cruel, revengeful, apparently unlimited. He has power to kill, to
afflict in every imaginable way, to send mad, or to visit with unknown
sickness; but to do good is beyond his power. There are several of these
little people in the country. They generally are employed by the witch
doctors to do their dirty work.
To slight a Thokolosi is to bring down disaster upon oneself. If once
you offend him, or he is commanded to injure you, he will hunt you down
remorselessly until his object is accomplished. During the day he
generally remains hidden in the corner of the witch doctor's hut, behind
the enormous juala pots, where it is so dark that he is unseen by even
the sharpest eyes. If by any unfortunate chance you meet him at night,
you must neither point at him nor speak to him.
Whether there really are creatures in any way answering to the
description of these little people or not I cannot say. My own belief is
that these doctors keep Bushmen who act the part and impose upon the
superstitions of the Basuto, for there certainly is _some_ truth at the
bottom of it all, as I can prove from personal experience.
Some years ago, before I knew of the existence of Thokolosi, I was
obliged to go to our cowshed rather late one evening to investigate the
disturbance amongst the cows. The moon was nearly full at the time, and
was shining brightly. The shed was at the bottom of our garden, some
little way from the house. I went, accompanied by my native nurse girl
and our big black retriever. Nothing occurred until we were returning,
when suddenly we heard what I took to be a dog running from the
Residency through the dead leaves in the garden towards us. I had barely
said "What's that?" when we heard the "ping" of the wire fence, and saw,
crossing the path, not a dozen yards in front of us, a little black
creature about the size and shape of a boy of six. The night being very
clear and bright there was no mistaking the fact that it was a human
form of some sort. It ran with a peculiar shuffle, moving its head from
side to side, straight through our garden into the darkness beyond.
When my girl saw it she caught hold of me in terror, but uttered no
word. The dog, on the contrary, gave vent to a sound half growl, half
howl, and tore off to the house, where we followed as quickly as
possible, and found him under my little son's bed, from whence he
refused to stir. This was to my mind conclusive proof that I had not
been "imagining things," as was said to me when I described what had
occurred; for the dog is a really plucky one, and I had never seen him
afraid before. My girl then told me we had seen "Thokolosi."
There is yet another evil influence called Moloi. He is in reality a
"doctored" Mosuto, whose fate it is to kill the enemies of his clan or
chief. When he is a child a deep wound is cut in his back near the
spine; into this is rubbed a "medicine" composed of the necessary parts
of a human body and various herbs. When this "medicine" influences him,
he shuns his fellow-creatures, discards his clothing, and remains out in
the veldt all night. His first duty is to kill a relation of his own,
as, until he has done so, he can have no heart, no soul. He may be, and
often is, extremely reluctant to do such a thing; but, sooner or later,
the fever in his blood (the power of the medicine) will compel him to do
the foul deed, after which his body finds rest, the fever leaves him,
and he becomes a peaceable mortal once more, until the time comes when
Moloi takes the place of the man, and he is ready for any deed, however
brutal. Of course, many of these old superstitions and customs are dying
out, but they are by no means altogether dead. They are, however, kept
as much as possible in the background, and the whole country is making
really wonderful strides towards civilization.
Before going to fight, the chief summoned all his warriors to his
village, merely telling them to come supplied with "lipabi." This
conveyed the desired meaning to them, and they secretly prepared their
weapons of war, and ordered their women-folk to prepare the "lipabi,"
which is merely roast mealies ground to a powder and mixed with sugar or
salt. This is the only food carried during the campaign by a Mosuto
warrior. Towards sunset they arrived at their chief's village and
prepared to kill the sacrifice. This must be a bull in good condition,
and the manner of his death is particularly brutal. The unfortunate
animal is driven into a secluded spot some distance from the village,
the whole "army" accompanying it. (In cases where several chiefs combine
against a common foe, each calls his own men, offers his own sacrifices
of one or more bulls according to the number of warriors, and has his
own separate war-dance.) Of course the "Ngaka" (doctor) is also
present. When it is time to kill the bull, the oldest and bravest
warriors step forward armed with three assegais each, which they throw
in turn at the quivering, maddened animal, until at last one proves more
merciful than its predecessors, and puts an end to the poor brute's
sufferings; but on no account must death occur _too_ quickly. As soon as
it was dead, it was skinned, and the meat, partially cooked, was divided
amongst the company, nothing but the skin and the bare bones being
allowed to remain. "Mogobelo" (the war dance) then began, the warriors
presenting a most grotesque appearance, with their faces and bodies
smeared with red and white clay, ox tails suspended round their waists,
and from elbows, knees, and often shoulders, their ox hide oblong
shields in one hand, an assegai in the other, and head-dresses of every
shape and form on their heads.
The doctor had already prepared a spot, and round this they danced,
growing more and more excited as the night advanced. Every now and then
a warrior would break through the circle into the centre, where he would
stamp and shout out the number of foes he had killed in battle, and how
and where he had killed them, striking his assegai into the ground for
every slain foe.
At daybreak they were all "doctored," and at once set out for the
battle-field. As far as I can learn, they had not any recognised order
of advance, but merely did so _en masse_, until within a few hundred
yards of the advancing foe. Each side then halted, while from their
ranks advanced one of the bravest of their warriors, who in stately
manner proceeded to cross the intervening space. Upon his arrival he
joined the ranks of the enemy. Whichever warrior succeeded in reaching
the foe first, enabled his side to commence the attack.
In former days the warriors were armed only with assegais, battle-axes,
shields, and clubs; but now every Mosuto of any standing possesses a
firearm of some sort, consequently their method of fighting has
undergone considerable changes. They are by no means deadly shots, and
would have small chance of success against an European foe in the open;
but could give a pretty good account of themselves in the wilds and
fastnesses of their own land.
Some of the quaint proverbs, doings, and sayings of the Basuto deserve
mention. For instance, it is not correct to pass behind any one, even in
a large assembly. It is looked upon as a moral stab in the back. Neither
is it correct to insult a foe in the presence of others, the proverb
being, "If you prick an enemy with a two-pointed assegai, it will hurt
you as well."
When a special blessing is given, the saying is, "May your feet go
softly all your days, and may your face be as the Morning Sun!" In times
of peace their greeting to a stranger is, "We welcome you. We are
sitting down building houses."
Another proverb is, "One hand washes another." Again, when wishing to
praise another, "You have taken the wedge from between my teeth." To one
in trouble the greeting is, "The Mother of Consolation comfort you."
Another is, "Break not your heart, sorrow will roll away like mists at
sunrise." When any one is dying, they say, "It is not a person. It is
only the grave of one."