“Water,” he answered simply.
And so the teacher supplied the student with living spiritual water, and the student supplied the teacher with literal water so that the teacher might prosper.
Since the children had been asking for water, and we had already used our supply for the day, Sechele’s gift of water had come at a most ideal time. Both the children had a glass to drink before retiring to bed. Seeing the water glisten off the corners of their mouths as they smiled was extremely gratifying.
The next day being Saturday, I took some time for myself to wander around the village, seeing things I had not seen before. Having finished my chores, I donned my bonnet and set out into the blazing sunshine.
It amazed me that so many animals came so close to the village. The scampering of little conies and the antics of the baboons on the rocks were a never-failing delight. Their soft little cries echoed around me as I walked free around the outside of the town.
“You should not walk alone.” His little voice did not surprise me now. I knew, somehow, he would find me today. He was as morally opposed to impropriety as his father was.
“Well then, why don’t you be my escort, Motsatsi?” I asked amiably. I continued my walk with him playing guard to my side.
I moved forward toward some low hills I had not yet explored. Their slow undulation called to me, since I had mastered our steep schoolhouse hill. I was now sure I could climb all over their shapes without becoming instantly exhausted. We were some distance from the village when I was surprised to see a significant structure in the middle of an empty field. It looked like a large V-shaped corral of some sort. It was opened wide on one end and then came to a point. It was quite a large contraption to be so far outside of the village. I wondered at its purpose. I turned to Motsatsi in question, but he was ready to explain without my asking.
“It is a way to catch a lot of animals,” he said. “When the herd comes, the men urge them inside the fence and the animals are trapped inside with no way to escape.”
“Ah,” I said, understanding. “That must be very effective.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “With only a few men, we can catch seventy to eighty animals at once, depending on the season.”
“Have you ever helped?” I asked him curiously.
He gave me a disparaging look.
“No,” he spoke as if it were obvious. “Only men catch the animals. I have not gone through our customs to become a man.”
“What, do you mean a ritual of some kind?” I was intrigued.
His chin, somehow, reached higher to the clouds. “It is not to be spoken of in front of women.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Ah,” Motsatsi said in surprise, “what luck! Here comes a herd now!” He was speaking of a sound he heard, but somehow I had not. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the top of a small hill, where we could overlook the V-shaped fence.
Suddenly, I could hear what sounded like a swarm of bees, but the sound was constant enough for me to realize something big was coming. Then, suddenly, around the hill came a large herd of a spindly looking creature with long horns, and I realized the sound had been the trampling of many hooves. These were the creatures I had heard David call gnus. Several tribesmen were working on either side of the mass of animals to keep them on track toward their creation. I was amazed at the speed these men could run! They kept up with the sprinting gnus, almost without effort. And even despite the gnuses’ long horns, the herd was afraid of the slight men who herded them.
Working together, the men were able to push most of the herd into the V-shaped coral. Watching the spectacle, I was suddenly confused. The fence was nowhere near large enough to house all these animals, and the men kept pushing more and more animals into the small space. To what end? I wondered. It was only in that moment that I realized that at the end of the fence, at the point of the V shape, was a large pit with long pointed stakes protruding from its depth.
Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach.
Half a second after I made this discovery, the amount of animals in the small space proved too much and the first group of unfortunates fell into the pit. I could not watch. I turned my face away, but could not escape the sound of last breaths as they fell on the sharpened stakes, their struggling bodies being crushed together as the tribesmen pushed more and more animals inside the slanting space.
What had to be the longest five minutes of my life passed and I could look up from my hiding place. A giant mound of defeated gnus covered the top of the pit. As I watched, a surviving gnu jumped over the bodies of his comrades and escaped the pit unscathed.
A sneaking suspicion had come over me as I hid my face. I turned to Motsatsi now.
“What is that fence?” I asked him. “What do you call it?”
“Hopo,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
So my suspicion had been correct. The hopo had been the one thing the captain had warned me about.
“Are women banned from watching the hopo?” I asked, wondering if it was all the females and not just myself.
“No,” Motsatsi told me nonchalantly.
So why had the captain decided to warn me against this one thing? In truth, he was right in a way. I had not desired to watch the massacre. But why, in our one chance to say goodbye, had he chosen this spectacle to shield me from? I felt guilty now for not thinking of anyone aboard the Madras since I came here. So engrossed was I in my new life I had not once thought of my old comrades. I wondered now if First Mate Anderson were recovering from the surgery I had assisted in.
I walked home slowly, slightly troubled by the mass killing I had witnessed and confused by the captain’s warning. Motsatsi didn’t understand why I walked so slowly, but stayed with me all the way to Mary’s door. We were both pleasantly surprised to see Sechele walking out of the house as soon as we arrived.
“Ah, my boy and Miss Anna!” he greeted with that wide, wise smile. “You had a pleasant walk?”
“Yes, good,” Motsatsi replied amiably. “The hopo was successful.”
“Miss Anna, did you witness the hopo with your own eyes?” he inquired.
“I looked away,” I said with a passive smile. I quickly changed the subject. “Are Mary and David home, Sechele? Did you have occasion to speak with them?”
“Yes, I spoke with Mma-Robert,” he answered. “I had just come to invite your family to come dine with mine this evening.”
“Oh, to be sure!” I replied enthusiastically. “I can only speak for myself, but I would be delighted.”
“Yes,” he said, agreeing that I would be delighted. “I will receive you all this evening then,” he said with a slight bow of his head. Then without a word, he took Motsatsi softly by the shoulder and they walked forward together. I thoroughly enjoyed the fact that their way of walking was identical. No doubt from Motsatsi practicing his father’s every move.
I retired into the house and removed my bonnet. I looked around the small space and saw Robert and Agnes playing with their sweet nanny in our room. Moving further in I could see David and Mary were absent. I was going to move to the lean-to to help in some way when I saw out of a back window Mary and David looking at something closely on the ground. I was perplexed until I remembered this was where David had placed Mary’s sewing needles in the ground, searching for moisture to rust the small pieces of metal. As they stood and looked to each other without a word, I knew the needles must have been agonizingly clean.
Turning my head, I walked away quietly so they could not catch me witnessing their fear.
Chapter 15
I aided Agnes in dressing in her finest apparel for dinner with a chief. Robert had taken to dressing himself entirely. Mary sometimes intervened when something was backwards or inside out, but otherwise he was becoming independent. Once we were all in perfect readiness, for Sechele would be disappointed by anything less than our best clothes, we began our walk to the home of the king of the Bakwena.
The beauty of Sechele
’s home was not something easily forgotten. Although the massive chandelier that possessed all your senses as soon as you walked in the door took some getting used to, the rest of the house was simple and elegant, especially in contrast to the harsh world outside.
Sechele came to greet us with Motsatsi at his side. Sechele was overdressed, which was exactly as I had hoped. He sported a blue velvet coat, a white chimney pot hat, crimson velvet trousers, and withal carrying his famous brass poker for a scepter. Mary shook her head infinitesimally. Yet despite his magnificent dress, of which I was sure he had spent at least one painstaking hour, he did not seem himself. Fortunately I had something in store to please our host.
“I see you have a few new lamps, Chief!” I said excitedly. “They are fine, I must say.”
The effect of my words was instant. To think that, not only had I noticed the pieces in the large room, but I also thought they were fine brought a look of satisfaction to his face.
“Thank you,” he said politely. “They just arrived before you came to the door. A trader, whom I found to be nice, sold them to me for a good price.”
“Who was the trader?” David asked, interested.
“That good man Andrew Bain!” he answered, and a look passed between David and Mary. “I think I shall ask him to get me a thick English rug,” he said proudly. “I got the two lamps for almost nothing, because this Andrew Bain agreed to give only if I could hit a distant anthill.” He gestured with his hand and squinted with his eyes so that we could know how far away the anthill had been. “He was overly confident, I think, that someone lacking experience and a mount could not accurately fire his monster gun.” He laughed, mostly to himself, then leaned in our direction and lowered his voice to tell us the climax of this story. “As an extra precaution, he overloaded the barrel, but I hit the target with one shot.” His laugh of triumph was enough to put us all in a merry mood.
“But enough of this, please.” He gestured to his small sitting area. “Do be seated.”
The sitting area was stocked with what was to be our appetizer. Mixed pickles sat in readiness in a simple white bowl and were accompanied by a large tin of sardines.
“This all looks lovely,” Mary told him amiably.
Sechele smiled in response, but lifted his finger at her.
“I have told you before, Mma-Robert, I know as well as white people what is nice.”
It was an inescapable fact that at least one corner of my mouth never came down while in Sechele’s company.
Selemeng took that moment to enter the company. Her dress was truly something to be envied. For the first time in years I felt envious of someone else’s apparel. The cut of her bright blue sleeves and the small train of her skirt so suited her figure I sat in awe of her.
“Hello, Selemeng,” I greeted. “You look absolutely lovely in that dress.”
She nodded in my direction and even gave me a small smile of delight. Her smile was nothing compared to Sechele’s grin that was akin to a sun glare. I knew without inquiring that he had retrieved the dress for her. He did have an excellent eye for beauty.
Having finished our pickles and sardines, and actually silently thanking my mother for years of maggot-filled food so I could swallow the two foods in the same mouthful, we moved to the dining area.
The table was already set, his off-white tablecloth donned with his special white china and tall candelabras. He had liver, served from a frying pan, placed in the center of the table.
“Ah, Miss Anna,” he spoke my name, remembering, “our dinner comes from you and Motsatsi’s successful hopo today.”
I tried to seem pleased. Motsatsi looked proud, sitting beside me, as if he had captured the animal with his bare hands.
We all pieced on the liver in amiable silence. It was served without bread or vegetable, so we all did our best to enjoy the meat, dipped in worcestershire sauce. Of course there was water on the table, but not much of it, and no one dared be the first to pour a glass. After our first course, a thick milk was brought in. It was very rich and stiff, albeit extremely sour. Sechele knew it was curdled and so supplied us with ample amounts of sugar with which to eat it. It was better with sugar, he was right, but still not very appetizing. After tasting that and being obliged to leave it, Sechele had a truly beautiful set of cups and saucers brought in, and drinking the sweet milk from these lovely cups made it thoroughly enjoyable.
I was still curious as to why the good chief had seemed so solemn upon our arrival. I tried to root out the source subtly.
“And how was your day, Chief? Pleasant?”
Sechele gave me a mocking look, with raised eyebrows, that told me instantly that my subtly had been wasted on the wise.
Before he could speak what was on his mind, there was a burst of sound at the door and several grown men came into Sechele’s home.
It was incredibly impressive to me that David, Mary, Sechele, Selemeng, and, least of all, Motsatsi were all on their feet in total readiness before the door could bounce off its hinges. I sat completely stunned in my chair as their survival instincts pulled them up out of their seats.
Turning to our disruption, I recognized instantly the same Boer man whom we had encountered on the docks in Durban and who had attended Sechele’s baptism. Abraham. Although both of our meetings before he had not been nearly as angry as he was now. There were two other younger men with him of a stronger build. All holstered guns in their belts, but their hands hovered dangerously above them.
I heard a gun cock from a direction I did not expect and turned to survey Sechele, who now held in his hands the largest rifle I had ever seen in reality or fiction. How had he hidden such a weapon without us perceiving it instantly? And he had it in his hands without taking a step away from his table! His rifle looked as if it could swallow all three of the other men’s, now minuscule, guns. Seeing him standing there, so very calm, with such a large machine made my jaw drop open.
At least this answered the question of whether the Bakwena had guns.
“Gentlemen,” he spoke low, with no threat of menace, “I thought our conversation had finished. How else may I help you?”
“You have not helped us yet, Chief!” spat Abraham. He was twisting and turning his head to take in every corner of the room. Was he looking for something? Coming a step closer, he could see our faces more clearly, and looking around this room, he found what he was looking for.
Me.
“There!” he bellowed. “Get her!”
Before I could gain my bearings, four massive hands were placed on my arms and I was being speedily dragged to the door. Sechele and David were on the opposite side of the table, and they could not reach me.
They had not thought to consider Motsatsi.
He had been sitting beside me, and was so small and quick they did not realize what had happened until they were crying out in surprise. Motsatsi had a small knife tucked in his trousers, and used it to expertly cut the hands of the men who held me bound. I do not believe I even saw him accomplish it, only found myself freed with him pulling my hand to keep me away from danger. The two men clutched their hands that were already covered in thick blood.
While still being towed away, David, Sechele, Mary, and, to my surprise, Selemeng had placed themselves between me and my attackers. Even in her fine dress, Selemeng looked like a force to be reckoned with. Their pursuance was immediately halted as soon as Sechele’s rifle was to his shoulder two feet in front of their shocked faces.
“I tried polite, but you did not,” Sechele began. I noticed that now, there was menace in his voice. “How else may I help you, before I remove you from my home?”
“You know exactly what we want!” Abraham cried in aggravated frustration. “The price for her return is enough to feed our families for weeks! The water alone would sustain them for a month!”
Horror struck me.
“I was already made aware of the price on her freedom from a less hostile messenger,” Sechele replied coolly. “I w
ill repeat what I told you before and that is that she is a member of my tribe and out of your reach.”
“You ought to be grateful to us, Chief,” the farmer responded bitingly. “My people shield you daily from outside threats, and you cannot give up one wandering girl who has no place among you? Who is not even liked by your tribespeople?”
I could not escape my intuition. Although the current situation was still quite dangerous, my feelings were hurt that others knew of the tribe’s dislike of me.
My feelings were much different from Sechele’s. The man’s words had caused me hurt, but it had fanned the flame of Sechele’s anger. He yelled now in a way I shall never forget, not only because his words were so poignant to me, but because there is no sound on God’s green earth louder than the voice of Chief Sechele.
“You do not protect my people. You enslave them and make them your objects. You would have to rip out my insides rather than us give her up! She is my blood. As I told you before, I shall not deliver up Miss Anna, for she has become my child. She breathes the air I breathe in my lungs. I will not cough her up. We are not like you white people who have no respect for words. You put them on paper and you capture them and imprison them in the vaults of your pens. You drown them in your ink and create the magic of meaning through papers and books, but you have no respect for words. These are my words!”
It was impossible to be unaffected by Sechele’s voice. The silence after his words was enough to make the unwelcome men inch toward the door. Abraham was the only one brave enough to speak.
“Your words mean nothing to me, Chief. Because I will always have authority over you. I have been called of God. I am a prophet, not only over my people but over yours as well. We make the people work for us, in consideration of allowing them to live in our country. That you disrespect this authority is troubling. Have you not seen the similarities between myself and Moses of old? God has visited me and made these things known to me. Denying the prophet, and the prophet’s children of water is a sin. You read your Bible, but you know nothing of it.”
In Spite of Lions Page 17
