Adventures in Swaziland Part 30

I did so. I told him all about the plan to take pictures of the coronation of Sebuza and how I was meeting obstacles which appeared insuperable. I told him that I had moved my outfit to Lebombo and gave him satisfactory reasons for the change. I could see that my candor impressed him favorably. There was no reason why it should not. What I told him was the truth. Of course I related how L'Tunga had saved Dr.

Sugden's life, and this impressed him deeply. He let me talk for some twenty minutes, and then leaned back in his chair and gave me some advice.

"If I were you, Doctor," he said, "I would not waste more time waiting for Sebuza's coronation. It is my opinion that this will not take place for some time, possibly a year or so. You may not know it, but the young gentleman is not in the best graces of His Majesty's Government and it may mean a long delay before official permission is granted for him to reign.

"Your expedition is costing you a lot of money and it seems a shame for you to remain in Swaziland with no chance of fulfilling your mission. If you will take my advice, you will return to Ermelo and wait until I send you word that the coronation has received the official sanction of our government."

This was a blow to my hopes. I had no idea that Sebuza would not be recognized by the authorities and it began to look as though my expedition were a wild goose chase after all. We talked a little while longer, but I was not able to find any specific reason for the government's dislike of Sebuza. Apparently there was a general feeling that he would try to follow in the footsteps of his father, Buno the Terrible, and the government regarded Swaziland as a sleeping dog that it would be unwise to awaken.

Our talk ended when Mr. Honey rose to his feet with the remark, "Of course you are dining with me tonight?"

I a.s.sured him that I would be most pleased, and he told me that eight o'clock was the hour. This barely gave me time to get back to my hotel and dress, but I made it. I got into my dinner-coat and fresh linen while I cursed the habits of the English. They will take civilization--particularly of the "dinner" kind--with them no matter where they go!

Dinner proved a delightful affair. There were half a dozen people there, including several of the minor officials and their wives. It was a gay party and the food was excellent, being served in London fashion by several silent-footed Indians. The thought came to me that British officials certainly "do themselves well." We talked about many things, none of them concerning Swaziland or its coronations, and it was a pleasure to have my worries banished for a few hours.

After dinner we played "bridge," and then I went back to my hotel feeling as if I had stepped out of an English drawing-room into the heart of Swaziland. At his door the Commissioner shook hands and gave me a parting word.

"Better come back and avoid trouble, Doctor," he said. "There isn't likely to be any coronation this year and you always run the change of getting into a fight. If you stay, be careful! His Majesty's Government is interested in the peace of Swaziland. Goodnight and cheerio!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: PRINCESSES AT THE SACRED BATHING POOL

Previous to being offered for the choice of Crown Prince Sebuza of the Swazis]

[Ill.u.s.tration: A SCENE AT THE ROYAL BATHING POOL]

I was rather blue that night as I went to sleep. It looked as though my voyages, privations, and trouble had all been for nothing.

Next morning Sibijaan and I set off bright and early. He told me that a kaffir had chummed with him at the kraal and had enquired whether Oom Tuys was with my expedition. Sibijaan had lied, as he knew he must, and then I understood why the Commissioner had carefully refrained from making me perjure myself. My only hope was that Sibijaan had been a convincing liar. Otherwise, the fact that Tuys was with me would make the Commissioner watchful of my activities.

On the way back through the Valley of Heaven I came to the conclusion that something had to be done, and done quickly, if Sebuza was to be made king. What this something was, however, I only had a vague idea.

I wanted to talk it over with Tuys before taking any action, since his help would be necessary.

My uncle was waiting for me when I reached camp and seemed anxious to know what the Commissioner had said about him. When I told him that he had not mentioned his name, his pride seemed hurt, but he cheered up when I related how the kaffir spy had tried to pump Sibijaan.

"I would hate to think that the British have ceased to worry about me," he said. "I have had a good deal of fun by teasing them, and I'm not ready yet to settle down and become a farmer all the time!"

There was not much harm in Tuys, but he was Boer enough to enjoy worrying the British and the fact that he was not wanted in Swaziland made his sojourns there all the more enjoyable.

Next day we visited Tzaneen, and I found that she was much interested in my sudden trip to Mbabane. Her indunas had told her that I had received a summons to visit the Commissioner and she was curious to know all about it. I told her why Mr. Honey wanted to know about me and then repeated his advice.

"Yes, Mzaan Bakoor, I know all about the government opposition to my son becoming king," she said. "He has so many followers that they are afraid of him. The British fear Sebuza because they would sooner have a weak old woman like Labotsibeni in Swaziland than a strong man and a son of Buno."

"How many followers has Sebuza, Nkosikaas?" I asked, for this was part of what I was thinking.

"Mzaan Bakoor, you of great magic, can you count the blades of gra.s.s in the field?" she replied.

Then she a.s.sured me that all Swaziland was behind the young prince.

She further told me that this was the chief reason why Sebuza was disliked by the government and added that he had been impudent to some British officials. I had heard rumors of this, but had placed small weight in them. Now, it seemed, Sebuza must have over overstepped the mark and no reconciliation was possible for some time. This, added to what I had heard in Mbabane, made me despair of accomplishing the object for which I had come to Lebombo. There was more talk along the same line and we treated the queen to a bottle of gin. This led to a peculiar incident.

That night Sebuza came to our camp and asked to see me. I thought he might have something of importance to communicate, but all he asked was that I stop giving gin to his mother! This, of course, was impossible. She was in authority until he became king and her request for liquor was a command we dared not disobey.

Sugden had spent the afternoon with L'Tunga and had watched the witch-doctors smoke dagga weed. I had forgotten to tell him about this and he was much excited over the discovery. With his faculty for observation, he had made a serious study of how the Swazi uses the weed and was much interested in its effects.

"L'Tunga took me to his witch-doctors' school," he told me, "and I watched them smoke dagga. It is a small leaf that must be something like tea before it is dried. Believe me, it has a 'kick.' There were about twenty of these witch-doctors sitting in a circle in their kraal, all hitting the pipe. They have a crazy way of smoking it, too.

You've seen the pipe, haven't you? It's a great long thing, very badly made, and it takes a strong man to make it draw.

"The way they smoke is this. The first man takes a calabash of water and then drops a coal into the pipe, thus lighting it. He next sucks on the pipe until he gets his mouth full of smoke. Then he attempts to fill his mouth with water, all the while trying to prevent any of the smoke from escaping. When he can no longer hold the smoke and water in his mouth, he blows them out together. It is a sort of smoky shower-bath!

"Most of them could only do it once. Almost before they could pa.s.s the pipe on to the next doctor, they would keel over and go sound asleep.

For some reason or other the smoke did not affect them all in the same way. Some of them became happy and began to chant, but they, too, soon grew drowsy. For plain unadulterated 'kick,' the dagga weed has it over anything I've ever seen, though it resembles hemp in its action."

It seems that L'Tunga did not join this smoke-party, but took Sugden to where he could see the common Swazis indulge in the same pastime.

Not being allowed the great pipe of the witch-doctors, they had a method of their own.

First they dig a little hole in the ground. Next a narrow trench is sc.r.a.ped out of the earth leading from this hole to another of about the same size. At the bottom of this trench is placed a freshly cut stick, and this is buried in the hard soil by covering it with wet clay. When the clay is firmly packed the stick is drawn out, leaving a little tunnel. Then clay is used to build a small mound over the second hole, through which an opening is made which connects it with the little tunnel. This is the mouthpiece of the pipe, the tunnel is the stem, and the first hole is the bowl.

"The Swazis filled the hole with dagga weed and lighted it with a hot cinder from the fire in front of the kraal," Sugden concluded. "Then, one by one, they sucked the smoke through the mouthpiece. They used the water method, also. It was an amazing sight! One after another they would fall over, the next man at the pipe usually having to drag the body of the last one out of the way."

I had seen these dagga orgies before and knew what they were like.

Sugden, however, thought it a most unusual spectacle and would have taken a whiff of the dagga himself if he had been urged. His interest was purely scientific, of course, and he succeeded in obtaining a few leaves of the plant which he proposed to have a.n.a.lyzed when we reached civilization again.

CHAPTER XVIII

Witch-doctors of Swaziland--How they brought a famine--L'Tunga's school of witch-doctoring--The "Poison Test" to settle ownership--The professional witch-doctor's equipment--L'Tunga decides a murder case--Some genuine cures.

Dagga weed was Sugden's most interesting discovery up to that time and it whetted his appet.i.te. I pointed out to him that the witch-doctors'

craft would be a good thing to investigate and he went after this like a bloodhound on a hot scent. We all became interested, and I soon found myself whiling away the tedium of waiting for the coronation by running down evidence of the art of "witch-doctoring."

What we discovered made me realize the wisdom of the government, which had recently pa.s.sed strict laws against the witch-doctors. For a time L'Tunga regarded our curiosity as a great impertinence and did everything possible to prevent our getting more information than was readily available. Finally, one night, he grew confidential and told us why the government had set its foot down on his brothers of the craft. He did this chiefly because Dr. Sugden and I had shown him that we were "white witch-doctors" and thus had established a sort of fraternity among fellow pract.i.tioners.

"The bad witch-doctors caused all the trouble," he said, "and it was their own fault that the government made laws against them. None of the doctors in my 'lodge' were guilty of these offenses, but we have to suffer with the rest. Like you white doctors, I cure the sick and drive out evil spirits."

I had not claimed to drive out spirits, but I am not sure that Sugden had not made such a statement. He always did things in a thorough manner and L'Tunga might have misunderstood him when he told him what healers we were.

"The trouble began a little while ago," the witch-doctor went on, "when a number of strange doctors came among us. They were from the gold country to the west and they had many queer tales to tell. They told our people that they were fools to work for the white men and that they ought to rise up and drive them out of the country.

"I do not know where they received their learning, but they said that our people were as good as the white men and told them that they were fools to let white men govern them. Our people listened and became much excited. They talked of making war and there was much unrest. The warriors began to gather, and the Boers and other white men sent messengers and spies to find out what was going on.

"However, these strange witch-doctors talked too much and made too many promises. Soon they began to tell our people that they need not grow any more corn nor breed any more cattle. They promised that there would be a great rain of corn and that millions of cows would come into the country for any one who wanted them. The people were convinced and sat about in idleness, waiting for the free food. The end of this was that there was much hunger in our land and many of the people starved to death.

"I went about when these strange witch-doctors told these lies and warned our people that starvation would come. But they scoffed at me and would not even bow to my most sacred charms. They said I belonged to the old order and that the new witch-doctors were the only ones worth following. For some time--too long a time--I had no honor and it was not until starvation came that the people again listened to me.

"Then the government learned of all these things and sent food to the people, so that not so many died. Some of the strange witch-doctors were caught and killed, but most of them escaped.

"Making starvation was not the only crime they did. So foolish were the people that they believed in them and for a time would do anything they said. Some of the doctors told them to commit murders and sold them charms that were to prevent them from getting caught. A number of killings took place and many women were stolen. When the murderers were caught and brought to court, they told how the doctors had advised them to kill and even named the number of cows they had paid for the charms that were supposed to protect them. When the government heard of this they became very angry and pa.s.sed laws against witch-doctors."