Shiminya the sorcerer was seated within his "muti" kraal on the banks of
the Umgwane river.
This kraal was situated in the heart of a vast thicket of "wait-a-bit"
thorns. It was enclosed by a closely woven fence of the same
redoubtable growth, whose height and bristling solidity laughed to scorn
the efforts of man or beast. The main approach consisted of a narrow
labyrinthine passage; other approaches there were, but known only to its
weird occupant, who had mechanical but secret means of his own of being
warned of any advance, even by the recognised way, some time before the
visitor or visitors should arrive at the gate.
This formidable stockade enclosed a space in which stood three huts,
circular, with low conical roofs of thatch, and in front of these
Shiminya was squatting. He had a large bowl in his hands, which he kept
turning from side to side, narrowly scrutinising its contents, which
smelt abominably, half muttering, half singing to himself the while. In
front, its head couched between its paws, dog-like, blinking its yellow
eyes, lay an animal. Yet it was not a dog, but represented the smaller
species of hyaena--the South African "wolf."
This brute looked grim and uncanny enough, but not more so than his
master. The latter was a native of small stature and very black hue,
with features of an aquiline, almost Semitic cast. But the glance of
his eye was baleful, cruel as that of a serpent, keen, rapacious as that
of a hawk; and while the muscular development of his frame was slight
almost to puniness, his sinister features showed that which must ever
dominate over mere brutal sinew and brawn, viz. Mind. Craft, guile,
cunning, illimitable patience, and dauntless courage all fought for the
mastery in the thin cruel features of the sorcerer.
His whole aspect differed as widely as possible from the pure-blood
Matabele, which is scarcely surprising, seeing that he could boast no
strain of that warrior race. He was, in fact, of the Amaholi, or slave
caste; but as among other and more powerful nations of both new and old
civilisation, Mind is bound to tell Shiminya--at the time we make his
acquaintance and for some years previously--was one of the highest in
the ranks of the mysterious hierarchy known to the natives as "Children
of the Umlimo."
The origin of the cultus of this sinister abstraction has never been
located with certainty. Its hierarchy was protected, if not encouraged,
by Lo Bengula and his warrior sire, probably out of three parts
political motive to a fourth superstitious; and now, at the period of
our story, when the dynasty and despotism of the Matabele kings had gone
down before the Maxims of the Chartered Company, the shadowy-sayings of
the Umlimo began to be sought out eagerly by the conquered race, and a
rosy time seemed likely to set in for the myrmidons of the abstraction.
These, with the astuteness of their craft all the world over, saw their
time. The conquered race, strange to say, was not satisfied. It had
signally failed to appreciate the blessings of civilisation. If life
was a trifle less secure under the rule of the King, why, that was all
in accordance with national custom. In the good old days there was
plenty of fun and fighting, of raids far and near; of the mustering of
regiments at the King's kraal, and cattle-killing and feasting and
dancing. Yes, life was life in those days, when looked at from the
point, of view of a warrior nation. But now, all this had given place
to a state of things which from that point of view was utterly nauseous.
The great circle of Bulawayo proudly dominating the land was razed to
the ground, its place occupied by a solitary house, whence the white man
governed a nation of conquered slaves. Below, in the valley, which
formerly shook to the hum and thunder of marching impis, the white man
was dumping down his iron houses and calling it his town. Throughout
the land even the oldest and most powerful indunas were under white
officials, to whom they were obliged to give deferential greeting, and
all the little phases of excitement incidental to former days were
sternly forbidden. Moreover, the conquerors had seized all the cattle
of the nation, and now the land was flooded with arrogant, masterful
whites, to whom no spot was sacred if only it was thought to contain a
little gold. Outwardly patient, but with black rage and inexhaustible
hostility gnawing at their hearts, chiefs and people alike sullenly
brooded; and on such dry tinder the sparks, artfully kindled by the
"Abantwana 'Mlimo," fell as on well-prepared ground.
Seated there upon the ground, Shiminya continued to shake his bowl of
hell-broth. Save for a few birds' claws and a bladder or two fastened
in his thick wool--for he was not ringed--he was destitute of the
revolting gewgaws of his profession. Suddenly the wolf emitted a low
snarl, simultaneously with an inarticulate wail which proceeded from the
hut behind.
"Ha--my Lupiswana! Ha--ha, my good little beast!" chuckled Shiminya,
apostrophising the creature. "Tea--lick thy jaws, for I think it is
time for more blood--only a little--only a taste. _Hau_!"
As though understanding these words the brute rose, and sneaked over to
the wicker door of the hut, sniffing at the fastenings, sullenly
growling. Rising, the wizard followed, and, pushing back the animal,
crept into the hut, and slapped the door to in its jaws. At his
appearance the low moaning rose again, and in its note was the very
extremity of pain and fear.
It proceeded from a long dark form lying on the ground, which the eyes,
becoming accustomed to the semi-light of the interior, would have no
hesitation in pronouncing as human. Further investigation would reveal
it a female form, securely bound and lashed to a pole; a female form
too, dowered with no small share of symmetry and comeliness. The face,
when undistorted by pain and terror, must have been a pleasing one in
the extreme.
"Ah--ah, Nompiza!" chuckled the wizard, rubbing his hands together.
"The children of Umlimo have pretty houses, do they not--pretty houses?"
And he glanced gleefully around his horrible den.
For this is just what it was. Human skulls and bones decked the
plastered wall, but the most dreadful object of all was the whole skin
of the head and face of a man--of a white man too, with a long heavy
beard. This awful object glowered down in the semi-gloom, a gruesome
expression of pain in the pucker of the parchment-like hide. Great
snake-skins depended from the roof--the heads artfully stuffed, and the
attitudes arranged to simulate life; and many a horrid object,
suggestive of torture and death, was disposed around.
"A pretty house, Nompiza--ah--ah--a pretty house, is it not?" chuckled
Shiminya, leering down into the young woman's face. "And thou hast only
to speak one word to be taken out of it. Yet I wonder not at thy
refusal."
"I will not speak it, Shiminya," she replied, with some fire of spirit.
"The rattle of these old bones has no terror for me. And if thou
harmest me further, there are those who will avenge me, child of the
Umlimo or not."
For all answer the wizard laughed softly but disdainfully. Then
reaching to the door, he opened it. The wolf leaped in, snarling.
"See now, thou obstinate Nompiza," he went on, restraining the brute
with a flourish of a large stick painted red, before which it cowered
back. "This is Lupiswana--no ordinary wolf. Whoever this one bites
becomes _tagati_, and will be hunted through the night by him after
death, until they can escape only by riding on him as the white men ride
their horses. Then, if they fall off, they are hunted again night after
night--for ever and ever. Ha!"
At the enunciation of this grim superstition the unfortunate prisoner
tugged at her bonds, uttering a shriek of terror. She recognised here
not the dog she had at first expected to see, but the horrid mongrel
beast held in abhorrence by the superstitious. The growlings of the
brute redoubled.
"Now, tell quickly," went on the wizard. "The news of the meeting thou
didst make known to two people only. Their names? Hesitate not, or--"
"Shall I be allowed to depart from here if I tell, child of the Umlimo?"
she gasped eagerly.
"Thou shalt be taken hence. Oh yes, thou shalt be taken hence."
"Swear it. Swear it," she cried.
"Umzilikazi!" rejoined the wizard, thus ratifying his assertion by the
sacred name of the great king, founder of the nation.
But now, seeing its master's vigilance relaxed, the wolf sprang forward,
and, with a horrid mumbling snarl, buried its fangs in the helpless
prisoner's thigh. A wild, piteous, despairing shriek rent the interior
of this fiend's den.
"Take it off! Take it off! Oh, I am devoured! Quick! I will tell!"
Seizing a pair of iron tongs, Shiminya compelled the now infuriated
brute to loose its hold, and following it with a tremendous blow on the
head, it retreated yelling to the further side of the hut.
"The names--quick--ere it seizes thee again," urged the wizard.
"Pukele," she howled, frantic with agony and terror.
"The son of thy father, who is servant to Jonemi?"
"The same. The other is Ntatu."
The words seemed squeezed from the sufferer. Her thigh, horribly
lacerated by the jaws of the savage beast, streaming with blood, was
quivering in every nerve.
"Thy sister, formerly wife of Makani?"
"The same. Now, child of the Umlimo, suffer me to depart."
"Thy thigh is not well enough, sister," replied the wizard, in a soft
purring voice, putting his head on one side, and surveying her through
half closed eyes. "Tarry till evening, then shalt thou be taken hence.
_Au_! It is not good to be seen quitting the abode of Shiminya. There
is _tagati_ in it."
Having first kicked the wolf out of the hut, the sorcerer set to work to
tend the wound of his helpless victim. She, for her part, lay and
moaned feebly. She had purchased her life, but at what a cost. Still,
even the magnificent physical organisation of a fine savage was not
proof against all she had undergone, for this was not her first taste of
the torture since being forcibly seized by the satellites of Shiminya
and brought hither.
Now, moaning in her pain, Nompiza lay and reflected. She had betrayed
two of her father's children, had marked them out for the vengeance of
not only the Abantwana 'Mlimo, but of the disaffected chiefs. This,
however, might be remedied. Once out of this she would go straight to
Jonemi--which was the name by which John Ames was known to the natives,
being a corruption of his own--and claim protection for herself and
them, perhaps even procure the arrest of Shiminya. This thought came as
a ray of light to the savage girl as she lay there. The white men would
protect and avenge her. Yet--poor simpleton!
"Of what art thou thinking, Nompiza?" said the wizard, softly, as he
refrained from his seeming work of mercy. "_Au_! Shall I tell thee?
It is that thou wilt reveal to Jonemi all thou knowest of the gathering
at the Home of the Umlimo when the moon was full. So shalt thou save
thyself and Pukele and Ntatu, the children of thy father."
A cry of terror escaped the sufferer. How should she have forgotten
that this dreadful sorcerer could read the thoughts of men?
"Not so, my father, not so," she prayed. "I ask for nothing but to be
allowed to go home."
"To go home? But how would that avail one who has been bitten by
Lupiswana? There is no escape from that. Lupiswana will come for thee
after death. Thou wilt be hunted round for ever, with Lupiswana
biting--biting--at thee even as now, and thou wilt spring wildly forward
to avoid his bites, and his teeth will close in thy flesh, even as now.
Thou wilt run wailing round the kraals of thy people, hunted ever by
Lupiswana, but they will not admit thee. They will cover their heads in
terror lest the same doom overtake them. _Hau_! Even this night will
that doom begin."
"This night?" echoed the victim, feeling well-nigh dead with an awful
fear. "This night? Now, my father, thou hast promised--hast sworn--I
shall be allowed to depart."
"I did but mean the night of death," replied the other, his head on one
side, his eyes glittering with satanic mirth. "That may be when thou
art old and tottering, Nompiza, or it may mean this night, for what is
time but a flash, even as that of the summer lightning? The night of
death will surely come."
No relief came into the face of the sufferer. The awful fate predicted
for her by Shiminya seemed to her just as certain as though it had
already befallen her, and the recollection of the horrid animal tearing
at her flesh was too recent. It was a form of superstition, too, not
unknown among her people, and here everything seemed to bring it home--
time, place, surroundings, and the horror of this gruesome being's
presence. But before she would utter further prayer or protest, a
strange hollow, humming noise was heard, at sound of which Shiminya
arose suddenly, with an eager look on his repulsive countenance, and
crept out of the hut, taking care to secure the door behind him.