Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales

by H. Rider Haggard

  Thomas did not learn all these details, and others that need not bementioned, at once, but by the time he crept out from under that wagonhe had guessed enough to show that he was face to face with a very toughproposition, and being the man he was, he girded his loins to meet it,vowing that he would conquer Menzi or die in the attempt.

  That very morning he called a council of the Christians and set to workwith a will. The first thing to do was to make the late missionary'shuts habitable, which did not take long, and the next to commence therebuilding of the church. Thomas, true to his principles, insisted onbeginning with the church and letting the mission-house stand over,although Dorcas, small blame to her, complained at being obliged to livefor an indefinite time in a hut like a Kaffir woman. However, as usual,she was obliged to give way.

  As it chanced, here there was little difficulty about buildingoperations, for stone and wood and _tambuki_ grass for thatching wereall at hand in plenty. Also the Basuto section of the Sisa, as is commonamong that race, were clever masons and carpenters, some of them havingfollowed those trades in Natal and the more settled places in Zululand,where dwellings had to be erected. Moreover, they possessed wagons, andnow that the dry season was approaching were able to fetch stores ofevery kind from the borders of Natal. Lastly, thanks to Dorcas's bankingaccount, money was by comparison no object, an unusual circumstancewhere missionaries are concerned.

  So all the week Thomas laboured at these matters and at making himselfacquainted with his congregation, and all Sunday he held open-airservices or taught in the ruins of the old church.

  Thus in the midst of so many new interests matters went on notuncomfortably, and Dorcas became more or less reconciled to her life.Still she could never get over her loathing of the place which shebelieved to be ill-omened, perhaps because of its gloomy aspect, coupledwith the name of the river and the uses to which it had been put, afterall not so very long ago. Naturally, also, this distaste was accentuatedby the unlucky circumstances of their arrival.

  Tabitha, too, was really happy, since she loved this wild free life, andhaving been brought up amongst Kaffirs and talking their language almostas well as she did her own, soon she made many friends.

  Perhaps it was a sense that the information would not be well receivedby her father that prevented her from mentioning that the greatest ofthose friends was the old witch-doctor, Menzi, whom she often met whenshe was rambling about the place. Or it may have been pure accident,since Thomas was too busy to bother about such trifles, while hermother, who of course knew, kept her own counsel. The truth is thatthough he was a heathen witch-doctor, Dorcas liked old Menzi better thanany other native in the district, because she said, quite truly, that hewas a gentleman, however sinful and hard-hearted he might be. Moreover,with a woman's perception she felt that if only he were a friend, at apinch he might be worth all the others put together, while if he were anenemy, conversely the same applied.

  So it came about that in the end there arose a very strange state ofaffairs. Menzi hated Thomas and did all he could to thwart him. He likedDorcas and did all he could to help her, while the child Tabitha he cameto worship, for some reason he never revealed, which was hidden in thedepths of his secret soul; indeed ere long had she been his own daughterhe could not have loved her more. It was he who amongst many otherthings gave her the pretty carved walking-stick of black and white_umzimbeet_ wood, also the two young blue cranes and the kid thatafterwards were such pets of hers, and with them the beautiful whitefeathers of a cock ostrich that had been killed on the veld. In the sameway it was he who sent milk and eggs to Dorcas when she was at her wits'end for both, which more than once were found mysteriously at the doorof their hut, and not any of his Christian flock, as Thomas fondlyimagined.

  Thus things went on for a while.

  Meanwhile Thomas found this same Menzi a stumbling-block and a rockof offence. Whenever he tried to convert man, woman, or child he wasconfronted with Menzi or the shadow of Menzi. Thus those with whom hewas arguing would ask him why he could not work miracles like Menzi. Lethim show them pictures in the fire, or tell them who had stolen theirgoods or where they would find their strayed cattle, and perhaps theywould believe him. And so forth.

  At length Thomas grew exasperated and announced publicly that hecredited nothing of this magic, and that Menzi was only a common cheatwho threw dust into their eyes. If Menzi could perform marvels, lethim show these marvels to him, Thomas, and to his wife, that they mightjudge of them for themselves.

  Apparently this challenge was repeated to the witch-doctor. At least onemorning a few days later, when Thomas went out accompanied by Dorcasand Tabitha, to meet the Chief Kosa and others and to discuss with themwhether ultimately the mission-house should be rebuilt upon the old siteor elsewhere, he found a great concourse of people, all or nearly allthe tribe indeed, assembled on a level place where in the old days stoodone of the great kraals designed to hold the king's cattle. Out of thecrowd emerged Kosa, looking rather sillier than usual, and of him Thomasinquired why it was gathered. Was it to consult with him about themission-house?

  "No, Teacher," answered the Chief, "Menzi has heard that you call him acheat, and has come to show that he is none, assembling all the peoplethat they may judge between you and him."

  "I do not want to see his tricks," said Thomas angrily. "Tell him to goaway."

  "Oh, Teacher!" replied Kosa, "that would not be wise, for then everyonewould believe that Menzi's magic is so great that you are afraid even tolook upon it. It is better to let him try. Perhaps if you pray hard hewill fail, for his spirits will not always come when he calls them."

  Thomas hesitated, then, being bold by nature, determined that he wouldsee the thing through. After all, Menzi was an impostor and nothingelse, and could work no more magic than he could himself. Here was aprovidential opportunity to expose him. So followed by the others headvanced into the crowd, which made way for him.

  In an open space in its centre, sat Menzi wearing all his witch-doctor'strappings, bladders in his hair, snakeskins tied about him, andthe rest, but even in this grotesque attire still managing to lookdignified. With him were several acolytes or attendants, one of them anold woman, also peculiarly arrayed and carrying hide bags that containedtheir master's medicines. He rose as they came, saluted Thomas andsmiled at Dorcas and Tabitha, very sweetly at the latter.

  "O Teacher," he said, "my ears hear that you say that I am a liar and acheat who have no wonders at my command; to whom the Spirits never speakand who deceives the people. Now, Teacher, I have come here that it maybe seen whether you are right or I am right. If your magic is greaterthan mine, then I can do nothing and I will eat the dust before you.But if mine prevails, then perhaps all these will say that you are thecheat, not I. Also it is true that I am not a great magician as was mymaster, Zikali, the Opener-of-Roads, and cannot show you things worthyto be seen. Nor will I smell out evil-doers, witches and wizards, sincethen the people might kill them, and I think that there are some herewho deserve to die in the ancient fashion. No, I will not do this, sinceit is not right that those with you," here he glanced at Dorcas andTabitha, "should look upon the sight of blood, even in this land wherethe White-man's law has no power. Still there are little things thatmay serve to amuse you for an hour and hurt no one. Have any of you lostanything, for instance?"

  "Yes, I have," said Tabitha with a laugh.

  "Is it so, Little Flower? Then be silent and do not say what you havelost. Have you told any what you have lost?"

  "No," answered Tabitha, "because I was afraid I should be scolded."

  "There, _Imba_, there, Little Flower, even that is too much, because yousee the old cheat might guess something from your words. Yes, he mightguess that it is something of value that you have lost, such as abracelet of gold, or the thing that ticks, on which you white peopleread the time. Nay, be silent and do not let your face move lest Ishould read it. Now let us see what it is that you have lost."

  Then he turned to his confedera
tes, as Thomas called them, and began toask them questions which need not be set out in detail. Was it an animalthat the Little Flower had lost? No, it was not an animal, the Spiritstold him that it was not. Was it an article of dress? No, they did notthink it was an article of dress, yet the Spirits seemed to suggest thatit had something to do with dress. Was it a shoe? Was it scissors? Wasit a comb? Was it a needle? No, but it was something that had to do withneedles. What had to do with needles? Thread. Was it thread? No, butsomething that had to do with thread. Was it a silver shield whichpushed the needle that drew the thread?

  Here Tabitha could contain herself no longer, but clapped her hands andcried out delightedly:

  "Yes, that's it. It's my thimble."

  "Oh! very well," said Menzi, "but it is easy to discover what is lostand hard to find it."

  Then followed another long examination of the assessors or acolytes, orwitch-doctor's chorus, by which it was established at length that thethimble had been lost three days before, when Tabitha was sitting on astone sewing, that she believed it had fallen into a crevice of rocks,and so forth.

  After this the chorus was silent and Menzi himself took up the game,apparently asking questions of the sky and putting his ear to the groundfor an answer.

  At length he announced: (1) That the thimble was not among the rocks;(2) That it was not lost at all.

  "But it is, it is, you silly old man," cried Tabitha excitedly. "I havehunted everywhere, and I cried about it because I haven't got another,and can't buy one here, and the needle hurts my finger."

  Menzi contemplated her gravely as though he were looking her through andthrough.

  "It is _not_ lost, Little Flower. I see it; you have it now. Put yourhand into the pocket of your dress. What do you find there?"

  "Nothing," said Tabitha. "That is, nothing except a hole."

  "Feel at the bottom of your dress, there on the right. No, a little moreto the front. What do you feel there?"

  "Something hard," said Tabitha.

  "Take this knife and cut the lining of your dress where you feel thehard thing. Ah! there is the silver shield which you have been carryingabout with you all these days."

  The crowd murmured approval. Dorcas exclaimed: "Well, I never!" andThomas looked first puzzled, then angry, then suspicious.

  "Does the Teacher think that the Floweret and the old doctor have madea plot together?" asked Menzi. "Can a sweet Flower make plots and telllies like the old doctor? Well, well, it is nothing. Now let us trysomething better. My bags, my bags."

  Thomas made as though he would go away, but Menzi stopped him, saying:

  "No, doubters must stay to see the end of their doubts. What shall I do?Ah! I have it."

  Then from one of the bags he drew out a number of crooked black sticksthat looked like bent ebony rulers, and built them up criss-cross in alittle pile upon the ground. Next he found some bundles of fine driedgrass, which he thrust into the interstices between the sticks, as hedid so bidding one of his servants to run to the nearest hut and bring acoal of fire upon a sherd.

  "A match will not do," he said. "White men have touched it."

  Presently the burning ember arrived, and muttering something, Menzi blewupon it as though to keep it alight.

  "Now, White Teacher," he said in a voice that had suddenly becomecommanding, "think of something. Think of what you will, and I will showit to you."

  "Indeed," said Thomas with a smile. "I have thought of something; nowmake good your words."

  Menzi thrust the ember into the haylike fibres and blew. They caught andblazed up fiercely, making an extraordinarily large flame consideringthe small amount of the kindling. The ebony-like sticks also began toblaze. Menzi grew excited.

  "My Spirit, come to me; my Spirit, come to me!" he cried. "O my Spirit,show this White Teacher Tombool that I am not a cheat!"

  He ran round and round the fire; he leapt into the air, then suddenlyshouted: "My Spirit has entered into me; my Snake is in my breast!"

  All his excitement went; he grew quite calm, almost cataleptic. Holdinghis thin hands over the fire, slowly he let them fall, and as he did sothe fierce flames died down.

  "It's going out," said Tabitha.

  Menzi smiled at her and lifted his hands again. Lo! the fire that seemedto be dead leapt up after them in a fierce blaze. Again he dropped hishands and the fire died away. Then he moved his arms to and fro and itcame back, following the motions of his arms as though he drew it by astring.

  "Have you thought, White Teacher? Have you thought?" he asked. "Good!Arise, smoke!"

  Behold, instead of the clear flame appeared a fan-shaped column of densewhite smoke, behind which Menzi vanished, all except his outstretchedhands.

  "Look on to the smoke, White people, and do you, Little Flower, tell mewhat you see there," he called from behind this vaporous veil.

  Tabitha stared, they all stared. Then she cried out:

  "I see a room, I see an old man in a clergyman's coat reading a letter.Why, it is the Dean whom we used to know in Natal. There's the wart onhis nose and the tuft of hair that hangs down over his eye, and he'sreading a letter written by Father. I know the writing. It begins, 'Mydear Dean, Providence has appointed me to a strange place'----"

  "Is that what you see also, Teacher?" asked Menzi. "And if so, is itwhat you pictured in your thought?"

  Thomas turned away and uttered something like a groan, for indeed hehad thought of the Dean and of the letter he had written to him a monthbefore.

  "The Teacher is not satisfied," said Menzi. "If he had seen all hethought of, being so good and honest, he would tell us. There is somemistake. My Spirit must have deceived me. Think of something else,Teacher, and tell the lady, and the child Imba, and Kosa, and another,what it is you are thinking of. Go aside and tell them where I cannothear."

  Thomas did so--in some way he felt compelled to do so.

  "I am going to think of the church as I propose it shall be whenfinished according to the plans I have made," he said hoarsely. "I amgoing to think of it with a belfry spire roofed with red tiles and aclock in the tower, and I am going to think of the clock as pointingto the exact hour of noon. Do you all understand? It is impossible thatthis man should know of how I mean to build that spire and about theclock, because until this moment no one knew except myself. If hecan show me that, I shall begin to believe that he is inspired by hismaster, the devil. Do you all understand?"

  They said they did, and Menzi called out:

  "Be quick, White Teacher. Be quick, I grow tired. My Spirit grows tired.The smoke grows tired. Come, come, come!"

  They returned and stood in front of the fire, and in obedience toMenzi's motions once more the fan of smoke arose. On it grew somethingnebulous, something uncertain that by degrees took the form of a church.It was not very clear, perhaps because Thomas found it difficult toconceive the exact shape of the church as it would be when it wasfinished, or only conceived it bit by bit. One thing, however, was verydistinct in his mind, and that was the proposed spire and the clock. Asa result, there was the spire standing at the end of the shadowy churchvivid and distinct. And there was the clock with its two copper handsexactly on the stroke of noon!

  "Tell me what you see, Little Flower," said Menzi in a hollow voice.

  "I see what Father told me he would think of, a church and the spire ofthe church, and the clock pointing to twelve."

  "Do you all see that," asked Menzi, "and is it what the Teacher said hewould think about?"

  "Yes, Doctor," they answered.

  "Then look once more, for _I_ will think of something. I will think ofthat church falling. Look once more."

  They looked, and behold the shadowy fabric began to totter, then itseemed to collapse, and last of all down went the spire and vanished inthe smoke.

  "Have you seen anything, O people?" said Menzi, "for standing behindthis smoke I can see nothing. Mark that it is thick, since through it Iam invisible to you."

  This was true, since they could
only perceive the tips of hisoutstretched fingers appearing upon each side of the smoke-fan.

  "Yes," they answered, "we have seen a church fall down and vanish."

  "That was my thought," said Menzi; "have I not told you that was thethought my Spirit gave me?"

  "This is black magic, and you are a fiend!" shouted Thomas, and wassilent.

  "Not so, Tombool, though it is true that I have gifts which you cleverWhite people do not understand," answered Menzi.

  By degrees the smoke melted away, and there on the ground were the tenor twelve crooked pieces of ebony that they had seen consumed, now toall appearance quite untouched by the flame. There too on their fartherside lay Menzi, shining with perspiration, and in a swoon or sleeping.

  "Come away," said Thomas shortly, and they turned to go, but at thismoment something happened.

  Menzi, it will be remembered, had given Tabitha a kid of a long-hairedvariety of goat peculiar to these parts. This little creature hadalready grown attached to its mistress and walked about after her, inthe way which pet goats have. It had followed her that morning, but notbeing interested in tricks or magic, engaged itself in devouring herbsthat grew amongst the tumbled stones of the old kraal.