STRANGE COMPANY--CAPTURED AGAIN--THE KAFFIR VILLAGE--CHUMA OBDURATE--
LAVIE'S MISSION--THE WIZARD--A BOND OF FELLOWSHIP.
It was a long and terrible night. The heaven was covered with vast
masses of inky clouds, which the gale drove rapidly before it; and
occasionally there were sharp bursts of rain, from which even the dense
foliage of the tree in which they were lodged but imperfectly screened
them. The howling of the wind round them, and the roaring of the
torrent below, rendered all attempts to converse with one another
impossible. They could only cling to their place of refuge, and count
the weary minutes as they passed, gazing anxiously on the eastern sky in
the hope of seeing there the first faint streaks of dawn.
A little after midnight the fury of the elements seemed to have reached
its height, and now a new danger threatened them. The huge tree rocked
to and fro under the gusts of wind, as though it had been a bulrush, and
every now and then a loud crack from below, intimated that one of the
strong roots had yielded to its violence. At length, after one blast,
more fierce than any which had preceded it, the last fibre gave way. De
Walden felt the great trunk bend slowly forward, and settle down in the
water; and almost immediately afterwards it was carried down the
current, whirling and crashing against other trees as it went, with a
force which nearly shook its occupants from their hold. Fortunately
they had taken their stations on a branch which still remained above the
water when the tree was uprooted; but it was nevertheless only by the
most desperate exertion of the little strength which still remained to
them, that they could save themselves from dropping, exhausted and
benumbed, into the watery abyss beneath.
At length the dawn began to glimmer, and showed that the tree, which had
become entangled with a number of others, had reached a point in the
river where it could proceed no further. The vast floating _debris_ had
lodged against lofty rocks, which projected some distance into the
stream, and thus an insuperable obstacle was offered to its farther
progress. As the light grew stronger, it revealed a spectacle so
extraordinary, and at the same time so frightful, that De Walden, with
all his long and varied experience, could not recall the like of it.
Numberless animals had taken refuge, as he and his party had done, in
the boughs of trees, or had been carried against them by the torrent.
The confused mass of trunks and branches was now crowded with the most
strangely assorted occupants that had ever been brought together since
the day of the great deluge; their natural instincts being, for the
time, completely overpowered by terror. The lion and the eland crouched
close beside one another; the steinbok and the ocelot clung to the same
limb; the hyena and the sheep, the tiger and zebra, jostled each other,
all alike apparently unaware of the presence of their neighbours. More
deadly enemies still were close at hand unheeded. Huge pythons, puff
adders, cobras, ondaras, black snakes, were twisted round every
projecting bough, darting their heads to and fro, and protruding their
tongues in the extremity of alarm. Even the huge bulk of the rhinoceros
might be discerned here and there, lodged on the bole of some giant
acacia or baobab; while above, the smaller boughs were tenanted by
multitudes of monkeys, for once omitting their customary scream and
chatter in the presence of mortal peril.
De Walden perceived that it would be possible for the party now to make
their way from tree to tree, until the right hand bank should be
reached. That to the left, which was the one along which their journey
now lay, being cut off from them by impassable obstacles. But they must
get on shore first, and again attempt the passage of the river
afterwards. He shouted to the others, and at length succeeded in
rousing them from the torpor, which for some time had been creeping over
them. Guided by him, they crawled stiffly and wearily from their
resting-places, along one trunk after another, often almost pushing
aside beasts of prey, which it would have been death to approach at
other times, but which now shrank away from them in deadly fear--until
at last the river's bank was attained. Here they struggled on for a
short distance, through the dense underwood of thorn and reed, until
they had reached a patch of long grass; when all, with one consent as it
were, threw themselves on the soft couch, and were soon locked in the
profoundest sleep.
How long they might have slept it is impossible to say. They were
awakened about the middle of the day by finding themselves in the hands
of a number of black men, who had already despoiled them of their
accoutrements, and were engaged in tying their arms behind their backs
with rheims of rhinoceros hide. They sat up and stared about them,
hardly realising at first what had happened.
"Hallo, blacky," exclaimed Nick, when he had at length taken in the
situation, "what may you happen to be about? Do you know, these legs
and arms, that you are handling after that free-and-easy fashion, belong
to me? Why, I declare," he continued, as he caught a clearer view of
the man who was employed in tying him, "I declare that is one of the
fellows whom you let off one fine morning about three weeks ago, Mr De
Walden! One blacky is generally as like another as an egg is to an egg,
but I think I could swear to that fellow's nose and eyebrows. Ain't I
right, sir?"
"Quite right, I am sorry to say, Nick," replied De Walden. "I am more
vexed than surprised at this. I knew these fellows would not return to
Chuma without us if they could help it, and half feared they might be
following us. But if we had got safe across the Gariep, they would have
come no further. It can't be helped, Lavie," addressing the surgeon,
who seemed inclined to remonstrate. "I would ask them to let you go,
and take me only with them, and it is possible, though not likely, that
they would consent But they would certainly seize your guns and
ammunition, and without these, and without a guide, you would hardly
reach Cape Town. No, we must go to Chuma's kraal now, and try what may
be done with him. I don't think he will venture to hurt us--anyhow, he
won't hurt you. There is the annoyance of the detention, but that will
be all."
"I have no doubt you are right," said Lavie. "They have taken us by
surprise; and without arms we could do nothing against their superior
numbers. The less we say or do the better, until we reach their
village. Is it far off, do you suppose?"
"I can't quite tell where we are. But I should think five or six days'
journey. Well, since you agree with me in the matter, I will tell them
we are ready to start."
The Kaffir, who seemed the chief of the party, received this intimation
with evident satisfaction. It was plain that, although he was
determined, if he could, to take the missionary with him, and considered
that the presence of the rest of the party would be acceptable to the
chief, he was more than half afraid of the Englishmen, and would have
been very unwilling to employ force. He gave orders to his companions
to set out without loss of time, and in another quarter of an hour they
were on their way. Kamo, as the leader was called, walked first, and
carried De Walden's rifle, the prisoners, all five together, following,
and the rest of the blacks, seven in number, occupying their flank and
rear.
De Walden's calculations proved to be very nearly correct. On the
evening of the sixth day, the travellers could perceive from the
demeanour of their conductors, that they were approaching their
destination. A halt was made about an hour before sunset, and two of
the Kaffirs set forward, carrying the rifles and other articles taken
from the English. In rather more than half an hour afterwards they
returned, accompanied by a considerable number of their countrymen,
carrying clubs, bows, and assegais, and evidently designed as a guard of
honour. They formed themselves into a sort of procession, five Kaffirs
in front with clubs and shields; then the whites in Indian file, with
two blacks on either side of each one of them, and the remainder of the
savages bringing up the rear.
In this order, about a quarter of an hour subsequently, they entered the
Kaffir kraal; which was in some respects very like, but in others
different from, that of the Hottentots. The huts were not built in the
same regular order, as in the instance of the latter, and they were
entirely composed of wicker-work besmeared with clay. Small too as had
been the amount of cleanliness and order observable among the
Hottentots, there was even less here. On the other hand, there were
tokens of superior civilisation to be discerned on every side. There
were large fields of Indian corn (or mealies as they were called), which
were carefully fenced in, and now nearly ripe for harvest. There were
gardens, too, in which pumpkins and sugar-canes grew. Before almost
every door stood wicker baskets, earthenware pans, and iron or copper
bowls and pails--all evidently of domestic manufacture. One of the
largest huts seemed to be that of the village smith, and he and his
assistant were at work, engaged in hammering an axe head.
The men were much darker, as well as of a taller and more powerful
build, than the Namaquas. The weather being warm, they wore scarcely
any clothing, and the stalwart muscular frames and well-formed features
of many among them, might have served a sculptor as models of the Lybian
Hercules. The women were not equal, either in symmetry of form or
regularity of feature, to the males--the consequence, probably, of the
severe and incessant toil required of them. They wore, for the most
part, a skin petticoat descending half-way down the thigh, to which in
colder weather they added a mantle of hide, secured by a collar round
the throat. It was growing dusk when the party entered the kraal; but
the chief, Chuma, came forth to greet De Walden, for whom it was plain
that he entertained a strange mixture of fear, admiration, and dislike.
He began by reproaching the missionary for his thanklessness in
rejecting his repeated invitations. Anxious as he was to bestow all
manner of honours and good gifts on the prophet of the white men, it was
ungrateful of him to withhold his good offices in return. "See," he
said, "the best house the kraal contains is yours, if you choose to
occupy it; or if that suits you not, we will build you a house after
your own fancy. As many cows and sheep as you may desire, as many
fields of corn, as many fruit trees as you name, shall be given you. We
will be your servants, and you may choose what wives you will. They
will be sent to your house without payment. Only, in return, do not
suffer our cattle to die of murrain, or our crops wither up for lack of
rain. What injury have we done you, that you refuse us your aid in our
necessity?"
"It is in vain that I tell you I cannot do what you ask of me," returned
De Walden. "Again and again I have assured you, that I am as unable to
prevent the visitations of disease and drought as you yourselves are.
The God, of whom I have spoken to you, and about whom you will not hear,
He, and He only, can accomplish the things you ask. If you wish to
obtain the blessings of which you speak, bow down before Him, and ask
Him for them."
"If I so bow down, will the prophet of the white men assure me, that I
shall receive what I entreat for?"
"No," replied the missionary, "I can give you no such assurance. God
hears prayer always, and is well pleased with those who offer it with a
true heart; but He does not always grant what men ask for. It may not
be good for them to receive it."
"What good, then, to pray, if there be no favourable answer?" rejoined
the chief, a cloud gathering on his brow. "You ask me to commit folly.
You trifle with me. You have brought down rain for others, and driven
away the disease that slew the cattle for others. Look, you shall live
here in the village, and we will kill you, if you attempt to escape. If
the rain does not come in its season, you shall bring it. If the cattle
die of pestilence you shall cause it to depart, or you shall yourself
suffer pain and hunger and death. As for these others, are they
prophets and wizards too?"
"They are simply English travellers, on their way to Cape Town," said De
Walden, "and their friends are persons of importance there. You have
heard of the English?"
"The English," said Chuma. "Ah, the English. Yes, I have heard of
them. They came over the great salt water, years ago, and fought with
the Dutch--did they not?"
"They did. They fought with the Dutch and conquered them. You know
well that the Dutch are dangerous enemies to meet in battle. None of
the races whose skins are dark--the Bechuanas, the Basutos, the Zulus,
the Namaquas--none of them can stand before the Dutch--"
"They have the fire-tubes," interposed the chief angrily,--"the
fire-tubes which strike men dead from a great distance like the
lightning, and no one can avoid it. They wear iron coats, and caps,
which turn aside the arrows and the assegais. They ride on horses too,
which are taught to fight like themselves. It is not equal. Let them
lay aside their coats and their tubes, and fight on foot like our
warriors, with clubs and assegais, and see who will conquer then."
"You know they are not likely to do that," returned the missionary; "but
that is nothing to the present matter. I wish to show you that if you
cannot stand before the Dutch, much less would you be able to face the
English, who are braver warriors, and better acquainted with war, than
even the Dutch."
"Ah, but the English have gone away," rejoined Chuma. "You try to
deceive me, but you cannot. The Dutch rule over the country again now.
The White Queen, who is a great magician, sent messengers to the English
chief not many months ago. But they came back and told her he was gone.
I know that, for Kama was in the Basuto kraal when they returned, and
heard their tale. She, I say, was a great magician, and they could not
have deceived her, even if they dared speak falsely."
"They did not speak falsely," said De Walden. "The English went away
three or four years ago, and have stayed in their own land until now.
But not many weeks ago they came back over the salt water, and have
again conquered the Dutch, and are masters of the land."
"Ah, the English again masters! We will not quarrel with the English.
We have seen them fight. But how do I know that they have come back?
How do I know that these persons are English, or that they have great
friends there?"
"You have my word," returned the other.
"Ah, but you deceive me in some matters, and may in others. I must have
proof of what you tell me before I let them go. But see here. Will
they give me their fire-tubes and their black powder as their ransom?
Then they may depart."
"They cannot do so," said the missionary. "If you deprive them of their
guide and their weapons, how can they find their way so many hundred
miles, and how provide themselves with food by the way? You must let
them take their guns; and, if you are resolved on compelling me to
remain here, you must furnish them with a guide. By him they will send
you back any ransom you may agree on."
"And when they get near the dwelling of their friends, they will send
their guide away empty-handed, or it may be they will kill him, and I
shall hear no more of him or them either. It is not good. No, I will
not quarrel with the English. But they live far off. They will know
nothing of these men where they are, or what may have become of them.
If I keep them prisoners, or if I put them to death"--the eyes of the
savage emitted a fierce light as he spoke--"if I put them to death," he
repeated slowly, "who will tell the English of it?"
"It will certainly be discovered," said De Walden. "It is known that
they have landed on the sea-coast at no great distance from here, and
that they are wandering about in these regions. One of them is the son
of a great sea warrior; the others are his friends and companions. The
great Chief of the English will send out soldiers to search for them.
He will learn from many whither they have been taken; and if harm has
been done them, he will exact heavy punishment."
Chuma shook his head, but he evidently was much moved by the
missionary's words. He conferred apart with some of his counsellors,
and an animated debate, to all appearance, ensued. At length he turned
away from them, and again addressed De Walden.
"See," he said, "this is the way of it. One of the whites, whomsoever
they may choose, goes alone to the great village of the whites, and Kama
goes with him as guide; but the white man leaves the fire-tube here
behind him, which he will not need, for Kama finds food on the way. The
others--they too stay behind here in the village till Kama returns, and
tells me what he has seen and heard--does this please you?"
"I will report to them what you have said," returned De Walden, "and
bring you their answer."
He stepped up to the place where the four travellers were resting
themselves on a heap of skins, and reported to them Chuma's proposal.
"On the whole," he added, "I should advise you to accept it. I know how
suspicious these Bechuanas are. Never practising anything like truthful
and fair dealing themselves, they are incapable of believing that any
one else can do so. If you refuse, your refusal will be imputed to some
sinister designs which you are secretly cherishing; and Chuma is fully
capable of relieving himself from all immediate anxiety by putting the
whole party to death."
"I quite see that," said Lavie. "The only alternative is attempting to
escape, and the chances are greatly against our succeeding in that. In
any case," he mentally added, "such a step would bring ruin and death on
you. No," he resumed, "we must certainly close with Chuma's offer. The
only question is, which of us is to be the one to go."
"You must not choose me," said Gilbert. "I should only make a mess of
it."
"I would go," said Frank, "but I do not think I am strong enough yet to
attempt such a journey."
"And I would rather not leave Mr De Walden," added Warley. "You had
better go yourself, Charles. You are in every way better fitted to
manage the business."
"I should not object," said Lavie, "but I do not like to leave you in
the hands of these treacherous savages."
"You leave us under Mr De Walden's care," rejoined Warley, "and I, for
one, can fully trust to that."
After some further discussion, it was so arranged. Chuma was informed
that his terms were accepted; and on the following day the doctor,
having taken an affectionate farewell of his young companions, set out
for Cape Town with Kama and another Bechuana for his guides; while the
others prepared themselves to endure, as patiently as they could, the
long weeks of waiting which must inevitably ensue.
"Are these Kaffirs utterly without the idea of God, as people say they
are?" asked Ernest one day of Mr De Walden, about a week after their
friends, departure. "I was talking one day to a gentleman on board the
_Hooghly_, who seemed to be well acquainted with them, and he declared
that they had positively no religion at all. But another gentleman
differed from him, and was going on, I believe, to produce some proofs
to the contrary, but the conversation was broken off. I should like to
know what you would say on the subject."
"They have no _religion_ in the proper sense of the word," answered the
elder man. "No sense of connection, that is to say, with a Being
infinitely powerful and good, who made and sustains them, and to whom
they are accountable. It is this that constitutes a religion, and of
this they know nothing. But they are extremely _superstitious_. They
believe in the existence of Evil Spirits, who have alike the power and
the will to afflict and torment them. To these they attribute every
disaster or suffering which may befall them."
"A creed of fear, in fact, without love," suggested Ernest.
"Precisely. They have no idea of pleasing the Unseen Powers by duty and
affection, but are keenly alive to the necessity of propitiating them by
continual sacrifices. They believe also, that it is possible to obtain
from their Evil Spirits the power of benefiting or afflicting others;
and those who are presumed to be in possession of these powers are held
in as great--practically in greater--reverence than the Spirits
themselves."
"These persons are, of course, impostors."
"In the main, yes. But there are some who are half impostors and half
fanatics--really thinking they possess some of the gifts attributed to
them, though how much, they themselves hardly know. This is the common
case with false prophets. Their heaviest punishment ever is, that they
partially credit their own lie."
"And this chief, Chuma, supposes you to be one of these prophets?"
"He does, and nothing I can say will disabuse his mind of the idea. It
is not uncommon with these pretenders, to appear to deny the possession
of supernatural powers, until they have obtained their price from the
chiefs! Chuma will not be persuaded that my disclaimers have no deeper
meaning than this. And I have given up the point in despair."
"Are there any of these pretended prophets among the tribe?"
"There is one--a man named Maomo. He was once in great favour with
Chuma; but a long drought, some two years ago, which he failed to
relieve, forfeited his prestige in the chief's eyes. He has been
labouring for a long time past to regain his power; and he regards me, I
know, with especial dislike, because he views me as the chief obstacle
to the attainment of his wishes."
"He is not likely, I suppose, to succeed in his design. The chief seems
to regard you with the deepest awe, if not affection."
"Ernest," said the missionary, "that is all delusive. His awe of me is
founded on an unreal basis, which _will_ some day, and _may_ any day,
crumble into nothing. And the moment Chuma ceases to fear me, his hate
will burst out in all its deadly fury. Maomo has already (as I know
quite well) so far worked upon the chief's prejudices, that he views me
as an enemy, though one whom it is not safe to attack. He has persuaded
him that the Spirits are angry at my attempts to draw away his people
from their ancient belief, and the consequence, he has assured him, will
be some heavy visitation of disease, or famine, or drought. Chuma has,
in consequence, positively forbidden me to attempt to make any converts,
or even offer prayers to our God, under penalty of his heaviest
displeasure. This very day he has told me so."
"And you, sir?" asked Ernest, anxiously.
"I, Ernest," answered the missionary, somewhat reproachfully, "I told
him, of course, that I should obey God rather than him, and strive to
bring any soul among his people to the knowledge of Christ. I left him
somewhat subdued, as determined language always subdues him; but the
moment any trouble befalls him, I know well what what will follow."
"Let me help you," said Ernest, deeply moved.
"Give me some of your work to do. I will do it to the best of my
power."
"Notwithstanding the consequences?" asked De Walden.
"Notwithstanding the consequences," answered Warley resolutely. And the
two shook hands with a warmth neither had before felt towards the other.