CHAPTER XIV.

MORENA-Y-A-LETSATSI, OR THE SUN CHIEF.

In the time of the great famine, when our fathers' fathers were young,

there lived across the mountains, many days' journey, a great chief, who

bore upon his breast the signs of the sun, the moon, and eleven stars.

Greatly was he beloved, and marvellous was his power. When all around

were starving, his people had plenty, and many journeyed to his village

to implore his protection. Amongst others came two young girls, the

daughters of one mother. Tall and lovely as a deep still river was the

elder, gentle and timid as the wild deer, and her they called Siloane

(the tear-drop.)

Of a different mould was her sister Mokete. Plump and round were her

limbs, bright as the stars her eyes, like running water was the music of

her voice, and she feared not man nor spirit. When the chief asked what

they could do to repay him for helping them in their need, Mokete

replied, "Lord, I can cook, I can grind corn, I can make 'leting,' I can

do all a woman's work."

Gravely the chief turned to Siloane--"And you," he asked, "what can you

do?"

"Alas, lord!" Siloane replied, "what can I say, seeing that my sister

has taken all words out of my mouth."

"It is enough," said the chief, "you shall be my wife. As for Mokete,

since she is so clever, let her be your servant."

Now the heart of Mokete burned with black hate against her sister, and

she vowed to humble her to the dust; but no one must see into her heart,

so with a smiling face she embraced Siloane.

The next day the marriage feast took place, amidst great rejoicing, and

continued for many days, as befitted the great Sun Chief. Many braves

came from far to dance at the feast, and to delight the people with

tales of the great deeds they had done in battle. Beautiful maidens were

there, but none so beautiful as Siloane. How happy she was, how beloved!

In the gladness of her heart she sang a song of praise to her

lord--"Great is the sun in the heavens, and great are the moon and

stars, but greater and more beautiful in the eyes of his handmaiden is

my lord. Upon his breast are the signs of his greatness, and by their

power I swear to love him with a love so strong, so true, that his son

shall be in his image, and shall bear upon his breast the same tokens of

the favour of the heavens."

Many moons came and went, and all was peace and joy in the hearts of the

Sun Chief and his bride; but Mokete smiled darkly in her heart, for the

time of her revenge approached. At length came the day, when Siloane

should fulfil her vow, when the son should be born. The chief ordered

that the child should be brought to him at once, that he might rejoice

in the fulfilment of Siloane's vow. In the dark hut the young mother lay

with great content, for had not Mokete assured her the child was his

father's image, and upon his breast were the signs of the sun, the moon,

and eleven stars?

Why then this angry frown on the chief's face, this look of triumph in

the eyes of Mokete? What is this which she is holding covered with a

skin? She turns back the covering, and, with a wicked laugh of triumph,

shows the chief, not the beautiful son he had looked for, but an ugly,

deformed child with the face of a baboon. "Here, my lord," she said, "is

the long-desired son. See how well Siloane loves you, see how well she

has kept her vow! Shall I tell her of your heart's content?"

"Woman," roared the disappointed chief, "speak not thus to me. Take from

my sight both mother and child, and tell my headman it is my will that

they be destroyed ere the sun hide his head in yonder mountains."

Sore at heart, angry and unhappy, the chief strode away into the lands,

while Mokete hastened to the headman to bid him carry out his master's

orders; but ere they could be obeyed, a messenger came from the chief to

say the child alone was to be destroyed, but Siloane should become a

servant, and on the morrow should witness his marriage to Mokete.

Bitter tears rolled down Siloane's cheeks. What evil thing had befallen

her, that the babe she had borne, and whom she had felt in her arms,

strong and straight, should have been so changed ere the eyes of his

father had rested upon him? Not once did she doubt Mokete. Was she not

her own sister? What reason would she have for casting the "Evil Eye"

upon the child? It was hard to lose her child, hard indeed to lose the

love of her lord; but he had not banished her altogether from his sight,

and perhaps some day the spirits might be willing that she should once

again find favour in his sight, and should bear him a child in his own

image.

Meanwhile Mokete had taken the real baby to the pigs, hoping they would

devour him, for each time she tried to kill him some unseen power held

her hand; but the pigs took the babe and nourished him, and many weeks

went by--weeks of triumph for Mokete, but of bitter sorrow for Siloane.

At length Mokete bethought her of the child, and wondered if the pigs

had left any trace of him. When she reached the kraal, she started back

in terror, for there, fat, healthy, and happy, lay the babe, while the

young pigs played around him. What should she do? Had Siloane seen him?

No, she hardly thought so, for the child was in every way the image of

the chief. Siloane would at once have known who he was.

Hurriedly returning to her husband, Mokete begged him to get rid of all

the pigs, and have their kraal burnt, as they were all ill of a terrible

disease. So the chief gave orders to do as Mokete desired; but the

spirits took the child to the elephant which lived in the great bush,

and told it to guard him.

After this Mokete was at peace for many months, but no child came to

gladden the heart of her lord, and to take away her reproach. In her

anger and bitterness she longed to kill Siloane, but she was afraid.

One day she wandered far into the bush, and there she beheld the child,

grown more beautiful than ever, playing with the elephant. Mad with

rage, she returned home, and gave her lord no rest until he consented to

burn the bush, which she told him was full of terrible wild beasts,

which would one day devour the whole village if they were not destroyed.

But the spirits took the child and gave him to the fishes in the great

river, bidding them guard him safely.

Many moons passed, many crops were reaped and Mokete had almost

forgotten about the child, when one day, as she walked by the river

bank, she saw him, a beautiful youth, playing with the fishes. This was

terrible. Would nothing kill him? In her rage she tore great rocks from

their beds and rolled them into the water; but the spirits carried the

youth to a mountain, where they gave him a wand. "This wand," said they,

"will keep you safe. If danger threatens you from above, strike once

with the wand upon the ground, and a path will be opened to you to the

country beneath. If you wish to return to this upper world, strike twice

with the wand, and the path will reopen."

So again they left him, and the youth, fearing the vengeance of his

stepmother, struck once upon the ground with his wand. The earth opened,

showing a long narrow passage. Down this the youth went, and, upon

reaching the other end, found himself at the entrance to a large and

very beautiful village. As he walked along, the people stood to gaze at

him, and all, when they saw the signs upon his breast, fell down and

worshipped him, saying, "Greetings, lord!" At length, he was informed

that for many years these people had had no chief, but the spirits had

told them that at the proper time a chief would appear who should bear

strange signs upon his breast; him the people were to receive and to

obey, for he would be the chosen one, and his name should be Tsepitso,

or the promise.

From that day the youth bore the name of Tsepitso, and ruled over that

land; but he never forgot his mother, and often wandered to the world

above, to find how she fared and to watch over her. On these journeys he

always clothed himself in old skins, and covered up his breast that none

might behold the signs. One day, as he wandered, he found himself in a

strange village, and as he passed the well, a maiden greeted him,

saying, "Stranger, you look weary. Will you not rest and drink of this

fountain?"

Tsepitso gazed into her eyes, and knew what love meant. Here, he felt,

was the wife the spirits intended him to wed. He must not let her

depart, so he sat down by the well and drank of the cool, delicious

water, while he questioned the maid. She told him her name was Ma Thabo

(mother of joy), and that her father was chief of that part of the

country. Tsepitso told her he was a poor youth looking for work,

whereupon she took him to her father, who consented to employ him.

One stipulation Tsepitso made, which was that for one hour every day

before sunset he should be free from his duties. This was agreed to, and

for several moons he worked for the old chief, and grew more and more

in favour, both with him and with his daughter. The hour before sunset

each day he spent amongst his own people, attending to their wants and

giving judgment. At length he told Ma Thabo of his love, and read her

answering love in her beautiful eyes. Together they sought the old

chief, to whom Tsepitso told his story, and revealed his true self. The

marriage was soon after celebrated, with much rejoicing, and Tsepitso

bore his bride in triumph to his beautiful home in the world beneath,

where she was received with every joy.

But amidst all his happiness Tsepitso did not forget his mother, and

after the feasting and rejoicing were ended, he took Ma Thabo with him,

for the time had at length come when he might free his mother for ever

from the power of Mokete.

When they approached his father's house, Mokete saw them, and,

recognising Tsepitso, knew that her time had come. With a scream she

fled to the hut, but Tsepitso followed her, and sternly demanded his

mother. Mokete only moaned as she knelt at her lord's feet. The old

chief arose, and said, "Young man, I know not who you are, nor who your

mother is; but this woman is my wife, and I pray you speak to her not

thus rudely."

Tsepitso replied, "Lord, I am thy son."

"Nay now, thou art a liar," said the old man sadly, "I have no son."

"Indeed, my father, I am thy son, and Siloane is my mother. Dost need

proof of the truth of my words? Then look," and turning to the light,

Tsepitso revealed to his father the signs upon his breast, and the old

chief, with a great cry, threw himself upon his son's neck and wept.

Siloane was soon called, and knew that indeed she had fulfilled her vow,

that here before her stood in very truth the son she had borne, and a

great content filled her heart. Tsepitso and Ma Thabo soon persuaded her

to return with them, knowing full well that her life would no longer be

safe were she to remain near Mokete; so, when the old chief was absent,

in the dusk of the evening they departed to their own home.

When the Sun Chief discovered their flight, he determined to follow, and

restore his beloved Siloane to her rightful place; but Mokete followed

him, though many times he ordered her to return to the village, for that

never again would she be wife of his, and that if she continued to

follow him, he would kill her. At length he thought, "If I cut off her

feet she will not be able to walk," so, turning round suddenly, he

seized Mokete, and cut off her feet. "Now, wilt thou leave me in peace,

woman? Take care nothing worse befall thee." So saying, he left her,

and continued his journey.

But Mokete continued to follow him, till the sun was high in the

heavens. Each time he saw her close behind him, he stopped and cut off

more of her legs, till only her body was left; even then she was not

conquered, but continued to roll after him. Thoroughly enraged, the Sun

Chief seized her, and called down fire from the heavens to consume her,

and a wind from the edge of the world to scatter her ashes.

When this was done, he went on his way rejoicing, for surely now she

would trouble him no more. Then as he journeyed, a voice rose in the

evening air, "I follow, I follow, to the edge of the world, yea, even

beyond, shall I follow thee."

Placing his hands over his ears to shut out the voice, the Sun Chief ran

with the fleetness of a young brave, until, at the hour when the spirits

visit the abodes of men, he overtook Tsepitso and the two women, and

with them entered the kingdom of his son.

How he won pardon from Siloane, and gained his son's love, and how it

was arranged that he and Siloane should again be married, are old tales

now in the country of Tsepitso. When the marriage feast was begun, a

cloud of ashes dashed against the Sun Chief, and an angry voice was

heard from the midst of the cloud, saying, "Nay, thou shalt not wed

Siloane, for I have found thee, and I shall claim thee for ever."

Hastily the witch doctor was called to free the Sun Chief from the power

of Mokete. As the old man approached the cloud, chanting a hymn to the

gods, every one gazed in silence. Raising his wand, the wizard made some

mystic signs, the cloud vanished, and only a handful of ashes lay upon

the ground.

Thus was the Evil Eye of Mokete stilled for evermore, and peace reigned

in the hearts of the Sun Chief and his wife Siloane.

Basutoland: Its Legends and Customs · 第 14 / 19 章