sleeping in my hut, and I heard some one trying to open the door. I
asked, 'Who is there?' and a voice (Nomalie's) replied, 'It is I, your
child.' I removed the door-pole, and Nomalie entered. I said, 'My
child, what is this thing?' but she did not speak. I threw some twigs
on the embers, and when they blazed up, what I saw made me burn with
wrath. The girl was naked, and her body and limbs were covered with
wheals and scars where the women had beaten her because she would not
allow Lukwazi to approach her.
"She sat down next to the fire and looked at me in silence until I
could endure it no longer, so working up a semblance of anger to hide
my pity, I said roughly, 'Why have you brought disgrace on your house,
by leaving your husband? I shall send you back to-morrow!' Instead of
replying, she stood up, and taking my large spear from where it was
sticking in the roof, she handed it to me. She then knelt down, and
placing a hand upon each of her breasts, she drew them apart, and
looked into my face. I knew she meant this to indicate that she wished
me to drive the spear into her, rather than to send her back. To see if
she were in earnest, I lifted the spear as if to strike, still keeping
up the semblance of anger--but she just closed her eyes, smiled, and
leant slightly towards me, I then saw she was in earnest, so I flung
down the spear and said in a kinder voice that she should remain, and
that Lukwazi might keep his cattle. When I had said this, she flung
herself to the ground on her face, and wept as though she would die.
"Next day, Lukwazi's messengers came for Nomalie, but I told them they
could not have her. Afterwards Lukwazi himself came with ten men armed,
and said he would take his wife by force. I stood in front of the door
of the hut, leaving Nomalie alone inside, and told Lukwazi that the
girl refused to return to him, and that after the way she had been
ill-treated, I should not force her to do so, Lukwazi said that the girl
was now his wife, that he had married her with my consent, that he had
now come to fetch her, and that he meant to have her. Just then I felt
something put into my hand from behind, and when I closed my fingers on
it I found this thing to be the handle of my big, broad-bladed spear.
Then I heard the wicker door of the hut being closed, and the cross-bar
being slipt into its place.
"Now when I realised what Nomalie had done thus silently, and other own
accord, my heart filled with pride in my daughter, and I began to
answer Lukwazi more boldly. I told him that I knew I had the law on my
side--the girl had returned showing marks of ill-treatment, and I was
therefore justified in keeping her--at all events until an inquiry had
been held. Lukwazi said that, law or no law, he was going to take the
girl away then and there, so I told him that I would slay with my spear
the first man who tried to enter the hut. At this, Lukwazi and his
followers became very wrathful, and I think they would have attacked me
had it not been for what my daughter then did.
"Over the loud voices of the men we heard hers calling Lukwazi by name,
and then all ceased speaking for the moment, Lukwazi replied to her,
saying, 'What is it, my wife?'"
"The door of the hut is fast barred, and you cannot break it down so
quickly but that I may set the hut in flames in several places before
you enter. I will die in the fire rather than go with you."
"On hearing this, they all looked at one another, and shortly
afterwards they moved off, Lukwazi still looking wrathful, and
muttering fierce threats against me and my house.
"About a month afterwards Xolilizwe returned. He brought eight head of
cattle which he had stolen from the Fingoes. He came here and asked me
to give him Nomalie as his wife, offering the cattle he had stolen as
an installment of the dowry, the balance of which he would pay later
on, when able to do so. I consented, as I wanted to make up to the girl
for any previous hardness, so she went as the wife of Xolilizwe to the
kraal of his uncle, old Kwababana. There was not much of a marriage
feast, for I still feared the anger of Lukwazi, and did not want to
annoy him further. I warned Xolilizwe to be careful, as I felt sure
Lukwazi would try and be revenged on some of us--and most probably on
him through the witchdoctor. In fact I strongly advised him to take
Nomalie away quietly, and go and dwell with our people on the
Umzimkulu.
"It was early in summer when Nomalie went to dwell with Xolilizwe as
his wife, and about three months before the feast of the first-fruits
(Ukushwama). You know something about what then happens. Each chief
sends away by night, and has a pumpkin, a mealie-cob, and a stick of
'imfe' (sweet-reed) stolen from the territory of some chief belonging
to another tribe. These are mixed with medicines by the witch-doctor,
and partaken of by the Chief and his family, in the calf-kraal before
dawn on the morning of the day of the new moon. You have no doubt also
heard that when a chief confers the honours of chieftainship upon his
'great son,' who is to succeed him, a special Shwama is held, and that
on such an occasion the stolen first-fruits have to be mixed, by the
witch-doctor in the skull of a man who has been killed for the purpose.
Many Europeans refuse to believe that this kind of thing still happens;
nevertheless it does, and it will happen in spite of all the Government
may do, so long as the Baca tribe is in existence. Even a Christian
chief would require Ukushwama to be performed in respect of his son, or
otherwise--as he well knows--the son would never be recognised as
legitimately a chief.
"Now the skull used at Ukushwama must be that of a man of a certain
rank, and is supposed to be that of an old man; but this is not
absolutely indispensable. I have told you that Lukwazi, although a
chief, was of low birth. Now, amongst the people in this neighbourhood
were very few whose rank was even equal to his own, and therefore when
it became known that at the next feast of first-fruits, his son
Bobazayo was to take the great Shwama, people began to wonder whose
skull would be required.
"I thought over the matter myself, and I found that the only three men
about here whose skulls would do, were Kwababana--Xolilizwe's uncle--
Xolilizwe, and myself. I at once made up my mind that Kwababana would
be the man, because he was very old, and besides his rank was highest,
his father having been the brother of Madikane.
"A short time before the feast, which begins with the new moon in the
month which you call February, I went away to the 'great place'
(residence of the paramount Chief of the tribe) intending to return in
time for the opening ceremony.
"When I returned on the second-last day of the old moon, I was quite
surprised to hear that Kwababana was quite well.
"As no one had heard of a killing, there was much speculation going on
as to where a skull had been obtained; it being usual to kill for this
purpose nearly a month before the feast--although this, again, is not a
necessary condition.
"Well, we all assembled at Lukwazi's kraal on the last night of the old
moon. I had not seen Xolilizwe since my return, and I was surprised at
not finding him at Lukwazi's. Just before daylight the Shwama was
administered to Bobazayo in the calf-kraal, and then to the members of
his family. Upon two points I kept wondering: one was in connection
with the skull--whose was it, and where had the witch-doctor obtained
it? The other was the absence of Xolilizwe--where was he, and what
excuse would he give for not being present when the great son of the
Chief took the Shwama?
"We drank beer, and danced, and made merry all the forenoon. I saw a
man near me who must have passed Kwababana's kraal in coming to the
feast, and I asked him if he had seen anything of Xolilizwe. He told me
he had heard that Xolilizwe was away following the spoor of old
Kwababana's only milking cow, which had been stolen three days
previously, and had not returned.
"Just after the sun had begun to fall, I saw my daughter Nomalie
approaching. She walked in amongst the people and straight up to me
without saying a word. I shall never forget her face--it was like the
face of one that had been dead for several days--all except the eyes,
which were full of fire. I knew at once that Xolilizwe was dead.
"She took my hand and silently drew me after her, and thus we walked
down the footpath to the drift on the other side of the Ghoda, which
you meant to have passed to-night. We crossed the stream, and she led
me to the edge of the bush and pointed to something lying just inside
the outer fringe of brushwood. I looked, and saw the headless body of
Xolilizwe.
"I recognised the body at once. No other man that I knew hart such
limbs as he. My unhappy daughter's husband had been slain by the thrust
of a spear from behind through the left shoulder-blade. I tried to
comfort Nomalie, and to get her to speak, but not a word passed her
lips. After a while, she motioned me impatiently to leave her, so I
went away, meaning to return later. I noticed a digging pick, and a
stone nearly as large as my head, with a string of twisted bark tied
around it, lying close to the body. I knew now in whose skull the
first-fruits had been mixed.
"It was still early in the afternoon, so I went home. The day was hot,
and I had drunk much beer, so I lay down and slept. I woke just at
sundown, and went quickly down to the Ghoda, expecting to find my
daughter there. But she was not to be found, neither was the body where
I had seen it lying. Just afterwards, however, I found a heap of stones
that appeared to have been just before piled over a mound of freshly
turned earth. The pick was stuck into the soft ground next to it, so I
inferred that Nomalie had buried the body of her husband and gone home.
"I went up to Kwababana's kraal, but Nomalie was not there. Old
Kwababana was healthy in body for so old a man, but he was very
childish, and just then the loss of his cow had quite upset him. He
could tell me nothing about Nomalie, and when I told him that Xolilizwe
was dead, he thought I meant the cow, and began to cry out. When I at
last was able to make him understand that it was Xolilizwe I had said
was dead, and not the cow, he appeared to be quite comforted, I then
went back to my own kraal, but Nomalie was not there, nor had she been
seen or heard of. So I ceased searching, thinking that she would be
sure to return, sooner or later.
"Three days after, a little boy told me that something strange was
lying in the pool just above the Ghoda drift. I went down at once to
see what it was. The pool is quite shallow, it would hardly drown a man
if he were to sit down in it. There I found my daughter's body, with
the stone which I had seen lying near Xolilizwe's headless trunk tied
to the neck by the string of twisted bark. It was a pity. She would
have been the mother of men.
"I dug a hole where she had left the pick stuck in the ground, for I
now understood she had meant the placing of the pick thus as a sign
that she wished me to bury her next to Xolilizwe. Tomorrow, when you
are going home, get off your horse and walk into the Ghoda bush at its
lower extremity. You will see a large 'umgwenya' (kafir plum) tree just
inside on your left, and underneath it two piles of stones. These are
the graves. But my story is not yet finished.
"Lukwazi never saw another Shwama. The corn-yield that year was very
plentiful, and in the early part of the winter beer flowed like water
at every kraal. Lukwazi rode about with his followers from beer-drink
to beer-drink, and he was drunk most of his days. On the evening of the
fourth new moon after the feast of the first-fruits, Lukwazi and his
men rode past here at full gallop. It was not yet dark. The sun had
gone down and the moon was just disappearing. The party had been
drinking beer for two days at the huts of Vudubele, the last kraal that
you passed on your way here this afternoon, and all were mad drunk.
They galloped down the valley, Lukwazi leading on a stout little grey
stallion. He was beating his horse and yelling, and one blow made the
horse swerve out of the path. There was an old ant-bear hole hidden in
the grass, into which the horse trod, and falling, rolled over on its
rider. Lukwazi lay quite still. His neck was broken.
"Since then, no horse will ever pass the Ghoda bush between sunset and
sunrise when the Moon is new."
Next morning I dismounted at the Ghoda, and walked into the forest. I
found the large umgwenya tree without any difficulty, and underneath it
were the two piles of stones close together. They were much overgrown
with ferns and creepers. A large bush-buck leaped up and crashed
through the undergrowth. His doe followed immediately afterwards,
passing so close that I could see the dew-drops glistening on her red,
dappled flank.
UMTAGATI.
"The great witch-doctor has come, and all
Sit trembling with cold and fear
As they list to the words from his lips that fall,--
The words all shrink to hear.
Lo! look at the seer as he whirls and leaps
The awestruck circle within,
Where each one shudders, and silence keeps
As he thinks of the untold sin.
"On his head is a cap of dark brown hair,--
The skin of a bear-baboon,
And the tigers' teeth on his throat, else bare,
Jangle a horrible tune;
The serpents' skins and the jackals' tails,
Hang full around his hips,
And a living snake from his girdle trails,
And around each bare limb slips."
The Witch-Doctor.
I.
THE motive and controlling factors of great issues are not always
recognised by those most interested, neither does honour nor yet reward
always fall to those who best deserve or earn them. In proof of the
foregoing propositions the following narrative is adduced.
Teddy's full name was Edmund Mortimer Morton. He was a Government
official holding the appointment of clerk to the Resident Magistrate of
Mount Loch, which district, as everybody knows, is situated in the
territory of Bantuland East, and just on the border of Pondoland.
Vooda was a native Police Constable attached to the Mount Loch
establishment.
Teddy's age was twenty-six, but he looked several years younger. He
was a pleasant-looking little chap, about five feet four inches in
height, slightly built, with blue eyes, yellow hair and an incipient
moustache upon which he bestowed a great deal of attention. His hobby
was popular chemistry. This he indulged in, greatly to the
entertainment of his friends and the detriment of his hands, which were
generally discoloured in a manner that defied soap. He lived in a
little hut just outside the village. This hut consisted of one room,
and was shaped like a round pagoda. It had a pointed roof and
projecting eaves made of Tambookie grass. The walls were of sod-work,
plastered over and white-washed. Here Teddy dwelt--taking his meals
elsewhere--and experimented in parlour-magic to his heart's content.
Vooda was a constable. He was a short, stout man, with a deep, although
not wide knowledge of human nature; not wide only for lack of
experience. He had dwelt all his life amongst the natives surrounding
Mount Loch, and he could read them like so many books of Standard I. He
could, moreover, tell by looking at a witness in court, whether that
witness were speaking truth or lying, and the magistrate recognised and
utilised this faculty. Vooda and Teddy were great friends, Vooda taking
a lively and intelligent interest in Teddy's experiments.
Every one knows that in the early part of 1894, Pondoland, the last
independent native State south of Natal, was annexed to Cape Colony.
Much to the general surprise, the annexation was effected peacefully,
but for some months afterwards the greatest care had to be exercised in
dealing with the Pondos. The people generally were glad of the change
from the harsh, arbitrary, and irresponsible rule of the native chiefs
to the settled and equitable conditions of civilised government; but
the chiefs gave trouble. They naturally would not, without struggling
and agitating, submit to the loss of power and prestige which they
sustained, and they bitterly resented being no longer permitted to "eat
up" those who annoyed them. Now, the instincts of clannishness and
loyalty are so strong amongst the Kafirs, that even against what they
well know to be their own vital interests, they will follow the most
cruel and rapacious tyrant, so long as he is their hereditary tribal
chieftain, into rebellion.
Now, the Kwesa clan of Pondos dwelt just on the boundary of Mount Loch,
and within thirty miles of the Magistracy. The head of this clan, a
chief named Sololo, had not objected to the annexation, and was
consequently looked upon as well-affected towards the Government. But
within a few months after the annexation, a serious difficulty arose
between the authorities and this man. One of his followers quarrelled
with another, and after the time-honoured local custom, assuaged his
feelings by means of a spear-thrust, which had a fatal result. The
murdered man was one whom Sololo disliked, whereas, on the other hand,
the murderer was one whom the chief delighted to honour. Consequently,
when the magistrate demanded the surrender of the culprit for the
purpose of dealing with him according to law, Sololo refused delivery,
and couched his refusal in an extremely insolent and rebellious
message.
Cajolements, remonstrances, and threats were of no avail; Sololo
remained obstinate. His tone, however, somewhat changed; he sent
polite, but evasive and unsatisfactory replies to all messages on the
subject. The Chief Magistrate was at his wits' end. Of course the law
had to be vindicated, but were an armed force to be sent against
Sololo, the odds were ten to one that within twenty-four hours signal
fires would be blazing on every hill, and the war-cry sounding from one
end of Pondoland to the other. The Chief Magistrate's native name was
"Indabeni," which means "The one of counsel." He was a man of vast
experience in respect of the natives, and moreover, he did not belong
to that highly moral, but sometimes inconvenient class of officials who
are known as "the hide-bound"; that is to say, his ideas ranged beyond
the length of the longest piece of red tape in his office, and he knew
for a certainty that things existed which could not conveniently be
wrapped up in foolscap paper. He was, moreover, one who trusted much to
the effect of his own considerable personal influence, and he believed
in utilising the talents of such of his subordinates as possessed
faculties similar to his own in this respect.
Indabeni had taken Vooda's measure accurately. He knew the Constable to
have a persuasive tongue, to be honest, loyal, and discreet, and, above
all, to possess that nameless and almost indescribable quality of
imparting trustfulness in those with whom he came in contact.
One afternoon a telegram marked "confidential" came from Indabeni to
the Resident Magistrate of Mount Loch. The purport of the message was
that Vooda should go to Sololo and talk quietly to him, endeavouring by
means of persuasion to effect a compliance with the reasonable demands
of Government. Teddy, being in the fullest confidence of his Chief,
was present when instructions were accordingly given to Vooda, who was
directed to start early next morning for the kraal of the Chief of the
Kwesas, in Pondoland.
When the offices were closed for the day, Teddy went home to his hut,
and it was noticed by one who met him on the road that his manner was
very preoccupied, and his walk unusually slow. Shortly afterwards he
was seen to stroll over to the police camp, and go straight to Vooda's
hut.
At eight o'clock that evening Vooda visited Teddy's dwelling, and a
long and serious conversation ensued. This was varied by a series of
experiments of a nature so striking that even Vooda was startled. At
about ten o'clock a stranger passing noticed strange flashes lighting
up the back of the hut behind the reed fence. Shortly before eleven
Vooda returned to camp, carrying a small satchel which contained a
packet of lycopodium powder, a piece of potassium about as large as a
walnut, and a number of whitish lumps about an inch in diameter, such
as are known amongst practitioners of parlour magic variously as
"serpents' eggs" or "Pharaoh's serpents."
At daylight next morning Vooda left the police camp, but it was late in
the afternoon when he reached the kraal of Sololo. He found a. number
of strangers there, including Shasha, the "inyanga," or war doctor. The
men, all of whom were armed, were sitting on the ground in a half-circle.
Before them stood a number of large earthen pots of beer.
Vooda, being an old friend of the Chief, was invited to sit down and
drink, so, after removing the saddle from his horse, he joined the
party. He soon saw, however, that his presence had imported an element
of restraint. He was careful as yet not to allude to the business upon
which he had come. Later on others began to arrive, some carrying guns,
some spears, and some assegais. It was plain that an important
discussion was on hand, and that Vooda's presence was unwelcome. The
beer was not in sufficient quantities to cause intoxication, but
nevertheless all were somewhat mellow when the sun went down.
Shortly afterwards Sololo asked the visitor point blank "Where he was
thinking of." This was an unusual thing to do under the circumstances,
such a question to a visitor being held amongst natives to be
discourteous and suggestive of inhospitality.
Vooda replied to the effect that he had an important matter to discuss
with the Chief, and asked Sololo to grant him a private interview.
Now Sololo, having had experience of Vooda's persuasive tongue and
knack of casuistry, did not wish to argue the point--knowing, as he did
full well, the object of Vooda's visit--and at once made up his mind
that he would not see the glib-tongued constable alone.
"Son of my father," he said, "what you have to say, let it be said
before these my councilors and friends."
Vooda saw there was no chance of a private discussion, and determined
therefore to play his game boldly and in public. The dusk of evening
was just setting in, and some women had kindled a bright fire.
"My Chief," he said, "I come with the words of Indabeni, who has chosen
me because he knows I am your younger brother" (figurative).
"Indabeni is a great man," said Sololo; "he has eyes all round his
head. His words are good to hear--speak them, son of my father."
"Indabeni's heart is heavy, my Chief, because you, the leopard, are
placing yourself in the path of the buffalo, which is the Government.
Men have told Indabeni that you refuse to deliver to the Magistrate one
who has done wrong."
"The leopard may stand on one side and tear the flank of the buffalo as
he passes. He may then hide in the caves of the rocks where the buffalo
cannot follow," said Sololo, sententiously.
"The buffalo may call the wolves to his aid to drive the leopard from
his cave," rejoined Vooda, developing the allegory further; "but why
will you not give up the wrong-doer to the magistrate?"
"Why must I give up my friend to be choked with a rope?" said Sololo,
excitedly. "He has not slain a white man, but one of my own people.
Government must leave him to be punished according to the law of the
native. If one of my tribe slays a white man, I will deliver up the
slayer."
"But you know what the Government is, my Chief--it is over all of us.
Even Indabeni himself has to do as it tells him."
"Indabeni is not a Pondo, neither am I Indabeni," said Sololo,
appealing, with a look, to the audience.
"Yebo, Yebo, Ewe--E-hea," shouted all the men.
"I did not ask Government for its laws," continued the Chief.
"'U-Sessellodes' [The native attempt at pronouncing the name of Mr. Cecil
Rhodes, Premier of the Cape Colony.] came here and said in a loud voice
that we all belonged to him. We were surprised, and could not think or
speak. Besides, who listens to the bleating of a goat when an angry
bull bellows? Now we have thought and spoken together, and we can also
fight; I will never give up my friend to be choked with a rope."
"E-hea," shouted the audience.
"My Chief," said Vooda, "your words are like milk flowing from a great
black cow ten days after she has calved, but there is one thing you
have not seen, but which I have seen and trembled at."
"What is this thing that frightens a man who is the father of
children?"
"The magic (umtagati) of U-Sessellodes, which he has taught to
Indabeni--the terrible magic wherewith he overthrew Lo Bengula and the
Matabele."
"We, also, have our magic," said Sololo, glancing at Shasha, the
war-doctor.