'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War
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CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
THE "SMELLING OUT."
"He must be killed! He must be killed!"
The cry was taken up. The bloodthirsty shout rolled through the ranksfiercer and fiercer till the wild roaring chorus was deafening. Thatcrouching, armed multitude, a moment before so motionless and silent,sprang erect, swaying to and fro, frenzied with uncontrollableexcitement; a legion of dark demons roaring and howling under thepromptings of superstition and ferocity; bellowing for blood--blood,blood, no matter whose. Weapons waved wildly in the air, and thedeep-throated shout volleyed forth. "He must be killed!"
The warriors were seated in an immense double semicircle. Gliding withher half-dancing step to the upper end of this, the witch-doctress beganchanting an incantation in a high nasal key, an invocation to the great_Inyoka_ [Serpent] who held the kraal and its inhabitants under itsespecial favour. As she commenced her round, the shouting of thewarriors was hushed. All stood upright and silent. Different emotionsheld sway in each grim, dark countenance. The hearts of many weresinking with deadly fear, yet each strove to meet the eye of theterrible witch-doctress boldly and without quailing. They knew thatthat fatal round would prove of deadly import to one or more of them ereit was completed.
"Ho--_Inyoka 'nukulu_!" [Great serpent] chanted the hag, with asignificant shake of the body of the hideous reptile, which she held bythe neck. "Find the wizard! Find the wizard!"
"Find the wizard!" echoed those whom she had already passed by as shecommenced her passage along the line.
"Find the wizard!" they shouted, rapping the ground with their sticks.Those who had yet to undergo the ordeal kept stem silence.
The chorus grew in volume as the number qualified to swell it increased.Not merely a lust for blood did that horrid shout represent--itembodied also a delirious relief on the part of those already safe.
Suddenly Ngcenika made a half pause, raising her voice in the midst ofher yelling chant. The serpent, its black coils writhing and twistingaround her arm, opened its jaws and hissed horribly. Those stillexpectant held their breaths; those already relieved shouted andhammered with their sticks harder than ever. Those directly oppositethe sorceress, at this ill-omened juncture, stood turned to stone.
"Find him, Inyoka!" snarled the hag.
"Find him! Find him!" echoed the deep-toned chorus.
But the pause was only momentary. Not yet was the victim singled out.Ngcenika resumed her way, only to repeat the process further along theline. And this she would do at intervals, sometimes coming to a deadstop in such significant and purpose-fraught fashion that the whole bodyof spectators stood ready to hurl themselves like lightning upon theunlucky one denounced. The hellish hag was enjoying the terror sheinspired, and as strong men of tried bravery one after another quailedbefore her she gloated over their fears to such a pitch that her voicerose to a deafening shriek of demoniacal glee.
The other end of the great human crescent was nearly reached and stillno victim. And now those who had escaped so far began to feel theirapprehensions return. It would be no unprecedented affair were a secondtrial to occur, or even a third. The sorceress might elect to make herfatal progress through the ranks again and again. There were barelyfifty men left. Unless the victim or victims should be found amongthose, a second progress was inevitable.
The bloodthirsty chorus rose into a deafening roar. The tension wasfearful to witness. The hideous possession of the repulsivewitch-doctress had communicated itself in some degree to the mass ofexcitable savages. Many were foaming at the mouth and apparently on theeve of convulsions. Not satisfied with the shouting, the infuriated mobbeat time with their feet in addition to their sticks, as they joined inthe hell-hag's demoniacal incantations, and the perspiration streamedfrom every pore till the very air was heavy with a sickening and muskyodour. It was a repellent and appalling scene, and even the whitespectator, apart from the extreme peril of his own situation, felt hisblood curdle within him at this vision of what was very like adiabolical power let loose. But there was worse to follow.
Suddenly the sorceress was seen to halt. Her voice rose to a frightfulyell, as with blazing eyes, and pouring forth a torrent of denunciation,she raised the great black serpent aloft in such wise that its writhingneck and hissing jaws made a dart straight at the face of a man in therear rank of the line and near the end of the latter.
"Thou hast found him, _Inyoka_! Thou hast found him! Show us thewizard!" screeched the hideous witch-doctress. The grinning skull andthe two devil-like horns of hair which surmounted her head quiveredconvulsively. Her eyes started from the sockets, and the weird andbarbaric amulets hung about her person rattled like castanets. She wasonce more the mouthing demoniac of a short half-hour ago.
The writhings and hisses of the serpent had become perfectly frantic.Suddenly the reptile was seen to spring free of her grasp and to flingitself straight at the man whose face it had first struck at.
"The wizard! The wizard!" roared the warriors. "_Hau_! It is Vudana!Vudana, the son of Sekweni, _Hau_!"
"Vudana, the wizard! Seize him!" shrieked the sorceress. "Seize him,but slay him not. He must confess! He must confess! On your lives,slay him not!"
The first part of her mandate had already been obeyed. Those in hisimmediate neighbourhood had flung themselves upon the doomed man anddisarmed him almost before the words of denunciation had left the hag'slips. The second part was in no danger of being disobeyed now. Betterfor the victim if it had.
The latter was a man just past middle age, with a quiet and far fromunpleasing cast of features. He was not a chief, but had a reputationfor shrewdness and foresight beyond that of many an accredited leader.
"Ha, Vudana! Vudana, the wizard!" cried Ngcenika mockingly. "Vudana,who did not believe in the efficacy of my magic. Vudana, who pretendedto manufacture `charms' as effective as mine. Vudana, whose poorattempts at magic have been effective to destroy mine in the case of allwho believed in them. Call the names of those who fell," she cried,addressing the crowd. "They are all believers in Vudana, not in me!Where are they now? Ask the Amanglezi--even the Amafengu, before whosebullets they fell. Ask the jackal and the vulture, who have pickedtheir bones. Ask Mfulini, the son of Mapute, whose weapon was turned bythe magic of the white man! Was he a believer in Vudana's `charms'?"she added in a menacing voice, rolling her eyes around.
"He was not," shouted the warrior named, springing forward. "Where isthe man who bewitched my broad _umkonto_. Let him confess and say howhe did it."
"It is well, Mfulini," said the witch-doctress grimly, knowing that theother trembled for his personal safety now that she had dexterouslyturned suspicion upon him. "Thou shall be the man to make him confess."
"I have nothing to confess," said Vudana. He lay on his bark, heldpowerless by several men while waiting for a _reim_ to be broughtwherewith to bind him. He knew that he was doomed--doomed not merely todeath, but to one of the differing forms of frightful torment meted outto those accused of his offence. He knew moreover that whether heaccused himself or not the result would be the same, and a warrior lightblazed from his eyes as he replied.
"If the Great Chief wants my cattle, my possessions, they are his; lethim take them. If he wants my life, it too is his; let him take it.But I will not accuse myself of that which I have never committed."
If Kreli had heard this appeal he made no sign. Witchcraft was anoffence--theoretically at any rate--outside the secular province."Smelling out" was a good old custom which had its uses, and one notlightly to be interfered with. It was doubtful, however, whether he didhear, for a shout of execration, led by the witch-doctress, drowned thevictim's words.
"He will not confess! _Au_! Where are the hot stones? To the fire!To the fire!" roared the crowd. The witch-doctress uttered a fiendishlaugh.
"No. To the ants!" she cried.
"_Ewa! Ewa_! To the ants!" they echoed. "Bring him along. _Hau_!The ants are hungry!"
"_Hamba-ke, umlungu_!" ["Go on, white man"] said several of thewarriors guarding Eustace, motioning him to proceed. "We are going toshow you a sight. Quick, or we shall be late!"
By no means free from apprehension on his own account, Eustace obeyed.When they arrived among the eager and excited crowd, the entertainmenthad already begun. All made way for the white prisoner and his guards,and there was a fiendish leer on many a dark face which needed not amuttered remark or two to explain. The horrible scene he was about towitness was extremely likely to be his own fate.
The doomed man lay spread eagled on his back; his hands and feet,stretched to their utmost tension, were fastened to stout pegs driveninto the ground. Two of the Kafirs were busily anointing his naked bodywith a sticky compound, which was, in fact, a mixture of honey andnative beer. This they smeared over him with bits of rag: ears, eyes,nose, coming in for a plentiful share. Already his flesh seemed alivewith moving objects, and then the cause became apparent. The wretchedman was tied down right across a huge ant's nest, which had been brokenin order to receive his body. Already the infuriated insects weremaking their bites felt. _He was to be devoured alive by black ants_.
"Confess, Vudana," cried Ngcenika. "Confess thy witchcraft and how thy`charms' were obtained. The black ants bite hard. Ha!"
"Confess? Ha-ha!" jeered the sufferer, his eyes blazing. "Not to thee,vulture. Not to thee, jackal. Not to thee, spawn of a Fingo dog. Ha!That is the witch-doctress of the Amagcaleka! Such a thing as that!What magic can she make? A cheat--a liar! I can die--I can die as Ihave lived--a man, a warrior."
"_Hau_! A wizard! A traitor!" vociferated the crowd. "Confess thywitchcraft, lest we put thee to the flaming torment. The fire bitesdeeper than the black ants. _Hau_!"
"I laugh at the fire," roared the victim. "I laugh at all that you cando. The fire is but a pleasant warmth. The bite of the ants is but thesoftest tickling. Thou dog, Mfulini, were I free, I would whip theeround the kraal."
"Is thy bed a comfortable one, Vudana?" replied the barbarian thusapostrophised, with a sneer. And picking up a handful of the venomousinsects he scattered them upon the tortured man's face with a brutallaugh.
For all his defiant fortitude the latter was undergoing agonies. Theants were swarming all over his body, crawling into his nostrils andears, biting everywhere, eating the rims of his eyelids, his lips, histhroat, and he was powerless to move a hand or foot. The spectatorscrowded around, mocking and jeering at him. A few minutes ago he was aman of consideration--now all pushed and fought for the front places towitness his sufferings, all heaped execrations upon him as they gloatedover the horrible punishment of one who had been denounced as a wizard.
"Whose magic is the greatest, Vudana--thine or mine?" jeered Ngcenika,bending over her victim until her face was close to his. But theproximity of that repulsive countenance infuriated even the helplessvictim. With a roar of rage he spat full into it, vociferating:
"Thou spawn of a Fingo dog! Thine hour is come. I have put my markupon thee. Before many moons are dead thou too shalt die, and thy deathshall be even as mine. I, Vudana, say it. Hear ye my words all!"
"He has confessed," shouted the crowd. "He is a wizard. He hasconfessed. Let him die the death!"
With a yell of fury Ngcenika started back, and glared vengefully aroundas if inquest of some means whereby to add to the sufferer's agony.Then she remembered that it would hardly bear adding to under thecircumstances, and contented herself with a satanic laugh.
Nor would it. In a short time the miserable man's body was black withthe repulsive insects. They swarmed into his ears and nostrils. Hisstruggles became fearful, as he writhed in the excruciating torment oftheir poisonous bites. He foamed at the mouth. His eyeballs rolled andstrained in their sockets, and he shook his head and roared like abeast. It would be impossible to exaggerate the agonies he wasundergoing. His frantic struggles availed not to shake off a single oneof the myriad insects swarming upon him. Already his eyes were halfeaten away.
It was a fiendish and appalling spectacle. The man was now raving mad.He gnashed his teeth and howled. His contortions were fearful towitness. Yet no spark of pity or compunction did the sight awaken inthe ferocious hearts of the spectators, many of whom were, up to themoment of the fatal denunciation, his kindred and his friends. Butsince his treatment of the witch-doctress all were chary of venturingtoo close. Many of the superstitious barbarians had already began tolook upon Ngcenika with decreased respect. Vudana, suffering as awizard, had spat in her face, accompanying the act with a prophecy and acurse. On no consideration would they run the risk of exposingthemselves to like treatment.
Eustace, forced to be a spectator of this blood-curdling scene, felt hishead swim with horror and disgust. The chastened gloom of the forest,the gibing crowd of armed savages, the weird shrill singing of thewitch-doctress, and the frightful contortions and beast-like roars ofthe miserable victim, who was being literally devoured alive, made up apicture likely to haunt a man in his dreams for the rest of his life, tostart him suddenly awake in a cold sweat of terror. Still he rememberedthat any exhibition of feeling would be in the highest degree dangerous,and controlled himself accordingly.
All this had taken some time and now the frantic struggles of thesufferer had subsided. A convulsive shudder would now and then runthrough his limbs, and his sightless eyeballs would roll in a mannerhideous to behold, and ever the disgusting insects swarmed over him in ahorrible moving mass, now red with blood, and smothered beneath gouts ofsaliva which had flown from the maniac's lips. Upon his violentstruggles had followed exhaustion--mercifully, the exhaustion ofapproaching death.
"He is dying!" cried several, bending over the victim. "_Hau_! A manlike Vudana should have taken much longer to die."
This was said in a disappointed tone. The barbarous appetite of thesesavages was thoroughly roused--whetted for further atrocities. A shoutarose.
"The white man! The white man! What shall we do with him?"
Well might Eustace start, in horror and dismay. But a glance served toshow that the object of attention was not himself, but somebody at theother end of the crowd, in which direction all heads were turned. Thenas the crowd parted a moment he caught a glimpse of something--somebodyrather--which evoked a second start, this time one of very unequivocalamazement. Could he believe his eyes?