By Veldt and Kopje Part 6

"But Kreli is my friend," said Flood, with a considerable tremor in his voice, "and I am not one of his own men to kill at his pleasure. I never heard of such a thing in my life--I--I--"

"Folodi," interrupted Fanti in a tone which carried conviction, "the men are now on the way to kill you, led by the witch-doctor. Go or stay as you please, but I have told you the truth, and I can wait no longer to risk having my neck twisted."

As he spoke the last words Fanti glided out of the hut, and vanished like a ghost. John Flood knew the customs of the natives better, I fear, than he knew his prayers, so he stood not upon the order of his going. He pulled down the bars of the kraal entrance so as to let the cattle go free. After this he hurriedly put on his best suit of clothes, and took down his trusty double-barrelled gun and its appurtenances from where they hung to the wattled roof. Then he saddled his best pony.

He took a last look at the goods upon his shelves. The stock had recently been added to; it was very hard to have to abandon it.

He did not awaken Nolai, who slept in the kitchen. He knew that her father would take her home, and that the law of the land required that she should be comfortably maintained until she again married, out of the dowry cattle. He was glad there were no children to complicate matters.

After he had mounted his pony, John Flood sat for a moment and gazed with emotion upon the spot where he had spent several contented years.

Just as he was about to start he bethought himself of the python's skin.

He had carefully dried it, and it lay in a coil upon one of the shelves in the shop. That, at all events, he determined they should not have, so he dismounted, re-entered the hut, and fetched the trophy, which he tied with a thong to the side of his saddle. Then he turned and rode sadly, though swiftly, away.

Flood knew every inch of the country, so he had no difficulty in reaching the Colonial boundary. His first halt was made at a forest which he reached shortly before daybreak, and in which he mournfully spent the long summer's day. The only thing which consoled him in his tribulations was the thought that he had managed to remove the skin of the python out of the reach of Kreli and the witch-doctors.

In spite of the fact that he kept this skin till the day of his death, which happened at a ripe old age, John Flood, ever after his flight, disliked pythons probably as much as the monkey whose life he was unfortunate enough to be instrumental in saving.

CHAPTER FIVE.

RAINMAKING.

_One_.

Drought had weighed heavily upon Pondoland for many weary months, and when more than half of what was usually ploughing season had pa.s.sed, leaving the ground as stone to ploughshare and pick, the people began to groan at the prospect of having to do without beer; for the millet, from which it is brewed, having no leaf-sheath to protect the grain (such as covers the maize-cob), if sown late often is ruined by an early frost.

When, however, a month afterwards, the weather was still dry and hotter than ever, they realised that even the maize crop was in serious danger.

Then the women followed the men about with wailings, saying that they and their children would perish. The men bent anxious eyes upon the hollow-flanked cattle that wandered about lowing with hunger and stumbling among the stones on the scorched hillsides, often falling to rise no more.

A deputation representing the Pondo chiefs, headmen and men of influence appeared before Umquikela, the paramount Chief at Qaukeni, his "Great Place," and besought him to send for Umgwadhla, the great tribal "inyanga ya'mvula," or "rain-doctor," and order him to make rain. A somewhat similar step had been taken more than a month before, but without the desired result. Much indignation was consequently felt against Umgwadhla, who was, as a matter of fact, generally blamed for the deplorable condition of the country.

Umgwadhla was looked upon as very expert in his particular line of business; he had hitherto given the greatest satisfaction. Since his appointment in succession to Kokodolo, who had been "smelt out" and killed for obvious neglect of duty just before the break-up of the last great drought, ten years previously, the spring rains had not until now failed in Pondoland. Moreover, no hut around which he had inserted the "isibonda ze'zula," or "lightning pegs," had ever been damaged in the heaviest thunderstorm. As a matter of fact, Umgwadhla was looked upon as a veritable "Prince of the Power of the Air."

Umquikela was, as usual, very drunk when the deputation arrived. His councillors, however, recognising the seriousness of the extent to which popular feeling was moved, kept all traders and others likely to supply him with liquor away from his hut for twenty-four hours. Consequently the Chief was, next day, quite capable of transacting State business.

He heard what his lieges had to say, approved of their suggestions, issued the necessary orders, and then returned to his cups with a clear conscience.

A message was accordingly sent to Umgwadhla notifying him that the "guba," or "rain-dance," would be held on a certain day, and that his presence at the function was required. This notification was accompanied by a very significant message to the effect that if the function were a failure he would be held responsible. Word was circulated among the people, in terms of which they had to appear at the "Great Place" on the day in question, armed, and each bringing a contribution of "imitombo," or millet, which, after having been allowed to germinate partially under the influence of damp, has been dried and ground to fine powder. It is from this, after it has been boiled and fermented, that the liquor known as "Kaffir beer" is made.

Umgwadhla fell into the deepest dismay; mindful as he was of the fate which had, under similar circ.u.mstances, overtaken a long line of predecessors. He could not help feeling that the length of his tether had now probably been reached. A drought protracted to a certain degree invariably had caused the "smelling out" and shameful death of whatever "rain-doctor" happened to be in office at the time, and, as droughts invariably do come to an end eventually, the fact of rain falling soon after the immolation of an unsuccessful pract.i.tioner had raised the irresistible presumption that each of these had, by the malicious use of magical arts, deflected the rain-clouds from their proper course.

There was no sign of the weather's breaking. The red soil, especially along the footpaths, was cracking into fissures; the fibre of the herbage was giving way and leaf and blade were turning into dust. In the minor watercourses the water began to run more freely. This is an unexplained phenomenon which invariably accompanies severe South African droughts. It is probably due to pressure upon the underground reservoirs, caused by local shrinkage of the earth's surface.

Umgwadhla day by day turned an apprehensive eye to the westward, the quarter from which thunderstorms might be expected, but the sky remained as bra.s.s. A steady, scorching wind arose every forenoon, blew all day, and sank with the sun. So long as this continued, Umgwadhla, who was in his way genuinely weather-wise, knew there was no chance of the weather breaking. He shuddered with dread day and night. He saw by the demeanour of those he came in contact with that all held him in detestation, and he continually suffered from the foretaste of a cruel death. Through the instrumentality of a few trusted friends he sent a number of his cattle out of Pondoland, but these he knew he would have great difficulty in recovering--even in the unlikely event of his managing to make his escape.

The day appointed for the "rain-dance" drew near with terrible rapidity, and at length arrived. At early morn the "ukuqusha," or driving in of the cattle at a run from every kraal for miles around to the "Great Place," began. When all the oxen had been collected the Chief selected one from his own herd for slaughter, and every petty chief, headman, and "umninizi," or head of a kraal, selected one of those driven in by him, for the same purpose. All doomed oxen were kraaled together, and then the important ceremony of doctoring the Chief began.

Umgwadhla had arrived secretly during the previous night, with his stock of roots, herbs, and other medicines, and from these he proceeded to concoct the "isihlambiso," or magico-medicinal wash. He broke up the roots and herbs and placed them in a large earthen pot nearly full of water. Then he got a three-p.r.o.nged stick about eighteen inches in length, and placing the p.r.o.nged end in the mixture he twirled the stick rapidly between his palms until the liquid frothed and seethed over the edge of the pot. Then he notified the Chief that the medicine was ready.

The Chief, accompanied by his "isicaka se 'nkosi," or "medicine boy,"

now stalked majestically forward. The "medicine boy," lifted the pot and carried it slowly into the large kraal, out of which the cattle had now been driven, the Chief following, naked and with stately steps.

Upon reaching the centre of the kraal the Chief crouched slightly forward, and the "medicine boy" lifted the pot and poured a liberal quant.i.ty of the contents over his shoulders. The "rain-doctor" and the Chief smeared this all over the body of the latter, and rubbed it in with the palms of their hands.

After this the pot, containing what remained of the mixture, was carried back to the Chief's hut, there to be kept until the end of the ensuing feast, when the washing process would be repeated, and any balance of the liquid then remaining would be spilt in the middle of the cattle kraal.

The grand ceremonial dance, known as "ukuguba," then began. The men, with faces painted red, danced in a row in front of the women, who sat on the ground clapping their hands rhythmically and singing a song full of monotonous repet.i.tion. This song related to feuds, fights, and the greatness and prowess of ancestral chiefs, but contained no reference to rain or to anything supernatural.

When the song and the dance were over the "rain-doctor" announced that on the fifth day following, thunderclouds would arise in the north-western sky in the afternoon, and that heavy rain would immediately follow.

Then the oxen were slaughtered and the feasting began. Under the influence of their excitement the people fully believed that the promises of the "rain-doctor" would be fulfilled. The beer flowed like water, and the meat, although rather poor in condition, was satisfying-- a Native is never particular about the quality of beef. Many fights took place, many skulls were cracked--some fatally, and, taking it all round, the function was a grand success; that is, of course, if we leave out of sight the main object of the gathering, which, however, had been totally forgotten for the time being.

Four days were spent in feasting, and on the morning of the fifth the people dispersed to their homes and began at once to get ready their picks and hoes against the coming rain. But the skies were still like lurid bra.s.s, and the sun as a pitiless, consuming fire.

_Two_.

On the afternoon of the third day after the feast Umgwadhla went quietly home. He was now almost in despair. He had, under the heaviest pressure, committed himself definitely to the production of rain at a given hour on a specified day, trusting to his luck to redeem the promise. The day was now terribly close. Twice more had the sun to go down in wrath and twice to rise in fury--and then--before it sank again?

He now knew, by the absence of signs of its approach, that the rain would not come on the day he had named. The evening of the fourth day came, and the sun went down a bar of rusty, red smoke, the result of inland gra.s.s-fires. Then the cool stars came out, twinkling mockery at the shuddering earth and the unhappy wizard, who felt as though the woes of the suffering land were heaped upon his head.

Umgwadhla's hut was situated close to the edge of the Umsingizi Forest.

This hut was his official residence, where he dwelt in retirement when engaged in practising the mysteries of his profession. He had carried home a large lump of meat from the feast. Part of this he cooked, but he found it quite impossible to eat. He sat all night on a rock a few yards distant from the hut, watching the hollow, light-punctured sh.e.l.l of night winding over him with horrible rapidity. Then the dawn flushed over the sea, and he realised that the dreaded day had arrived without the slightest prospect of rain. Already, in antic.i.p.ation, he felt the choking strain of the thong by which his feet would be bound to his neck, preparatory to his being flung to drown in the nearest deep river-pool.

The sun, although only just risen, smote hotter than ever through the sultry drought haze undisturbed by a breath of wind. Umgwadhla could stand it no longer; he determined to fly for his life. This he had been thinking of doing for some days past, but he knew that such a course would mean social suicide and the loss of his wealth and influence; that he would henceforth be an alien and a wanderer over the face of an unfriendly land. It was not that life seemed to him sweet under such circ.u.mstances, but that death after the manner of a strangled puppy flung into the water by mischievous boys was too bitter to face; so he seized a spear and a club, and plunged into the depths of Umsingizi.

The only food he carried was a small skin bag of boiled corn which, during the oppressive hours of the previous night, he had prepared without admitting to himself for what purpose.

The scorching day dragged on to noon, and the people began to bend anxious glances towards the north-west. The sun began to sink, but, except for thin wisps of smoke from distant gra.s.s-fires, the pitiless sky was void. The sun sank into a long, low bank of orange-coloured haze, and then hope departed from the wretched people.

Before daylight next morning the hut of Umgwadhla was surrounded by the killing party sent by Umquikela to seize and slay the wizard who had worked the ruin of his nation; but the bird had flown. Umgwadhla was already on the Natal side of the Umtamvuna River, making his way in the direction of the Baca and Hlangweni Locations in the Umzimkulu District.

A week afterwards the rain came in exactly the manner predicted by Umgwadhla. Early in the afternoon a great crudded cloud of snowy whiteness towered high over the north-western mountains, and then, drawing other clouds in its train and on its flanks, swept over Pondoland in the teeth of a raging gale. (In South Africa thunderstorms almost invariably advance _against_ the wind.) Then with lightnings and thunderings the long-sealed fountains of the sky burst open, and every kloof and donga became a roaring river. Umgwadhla was cursed with fervour and fury throughout the length and breadth of the land. He, the wicked sorcerer, had kept the clouds away by means of his evil arts; now, directly he had taken his departure, the rain-bearers, no longer bridled, had hurried down with their life-giving stores. On the first clear day another "rain-doctor" came before the Chief and claimed to have, by means of his potent incantations, counteracted the evil spells cast by Umgwadhla. This man was looked upon as the saviour of his tribe. Umquikela killed a large ox in his honour, and sent him home with gifts of value.

Umgwadhla had been only two days at Umzimkulu when the rain, which happened to be general, fell. He felt that the rain-spirits, in whose service his life had been spent, had treated him very unfairly. Why could not the rain have fallen a week sooner? He hated to think of the future; the contrast between the wealthy and influential position he had hitherto enjoyed, and an obscure and poverty-stricken existence as an alien suspected of the deadliest of all crimes, among the Amabaca and Hlangweni, which now awaited him, was painful in the extreme. Soon, however, a bright idea struck him, and, being a man of considerable force and character, this he determined to carry into effect. He knew that the course he resolved upon involved large risks, but these he felt it worth while to take. As soon as ever the weather cleared he started on a return journey to Qaukeni.

Early one morning a few days later Umgwadhla, accompanied by a few influential friends, whom he had taken into his confidence, appeared before Umquikela, who happened just then to be moderately sober. The Chief was giving audience before the gate of his cattle kraal to a number of visitors. Umgwadhla strode boldly among the people a.s.sembled, who maintained an ominous silence, and saluted his master. Before anyone had time to recover from the astonishment felt at his temerity in thus, as it were, putting his head into the lion's mouth, the "rain-doctor" spake--

"O Chief, I greet you on thus coming to claim my reward for having caused the rain to fall over the length and breadth of the vast territory that owns your sway.

"Rumour has told me that during my absence, in obedience to orders from the 'imishologu' (ancestral spirits), evil men have said that by spells did I prevent the rain from falling, and that only when I was no longer in the land to work evil, were the clouds able to revisit Pondoland.

"Hear now the truth, O Chief, and judge:

"On the night before the day on which I declared that rain should fall, the 'imishologu' revealed to me in a vision a dreadful secret. There dwells, I was told, a powerful wizard in the land of the Ambaca, who, by means of his medicines, drives back the rain-clouds when these are called up by the spells of your servant. This is done in revenge for that your ill.u.s.trious father Faku slew Ncapayi, the Great Chief of the Ambaca, in battle. Seek, said the 'imishologu,' the root of a certain plant that grows in the depths of the forest; eat of it, and then go forth without fear to the Baca country. Find there the hut of the wizard; before it stands a high milkwood-tree and bound in the branches thereof is the skull of a baboon with the dried tail of a fish in its teeth, facing the land that is ruled by 'the young locust.'" (The word 'Umquikela' means 'young locust.') "Remove the skull, and within a day the rivers of Umquikela will be roaring to the sea.

"Here, O Chief, is the baboon's skull." (Here Umgwadhla produced the article from under his kaross.) "Touch it not for fear of evil; ye who have not been doctored against poison; more especially touch not the fish's tail, which has been soaked in very direful medicines by the Baca Magician."

Umgwadhla was reinstated in all his honours, powers, and privileges, and his influence became very much greater than it had previously been. A song was composed in his honour by the most celebrated of the tribal bards, and sung at a great feast held at the "Great Place" to celebrate the breaking up of the drought. He lived long and ama.s.sed much wealth, and he never again failed to produce rain at the due season. His supplanter retired into obscurity, but this did not save him from an evil fate. When Umgwadhla died, in extreme old age, the supplanter was "smelt out" and put to death on suspicion of having bewitched him. The unhappy pretender was taken to the top of the Taba'nkulu Mountain and placed standing, blindfolded, on the crest of the "Wizard's Rock"--a high cliff just to the left of the footpath leading to "Flagstaff" where it crosses the top of the mountain. The executioner then struck him with a heavy club on the side of the head, and he fell among the rocks at the foot of the krantz. His bones, mingled with those of many others, may yet be seen by the curious.

Rainmaking is a profitable profession, but it takes a man of genius to carry it on successfully.