Suddenly Menzi recovered from his faint or seizure and, looking up,directed his attendants to return the magical ebony rods which burnedwithout being consumed to one of the hide bags that contained hismedicines. The assembly began to break up amidst a babel of excitedtalk.
Tabitha looked round for her goat, and perceiving it at a littledistance, ran to fetch it, since the creature, being engaged in eatingsomething to its taste, would not come at her call. She seized it by theneck to drag it away, with the result that its fore-feet, obstinatelyset upon the wall, overturned a large stone, revealing a great puffadder that was sleeping there.
The reptile thus disturbed instantly struck backwards after the fashionof its species, so that its fangs, just missing Tabitha's hands,sank deep into the kid's neck. She screamed and there was a greatdisturbance. A native ran forward and pinned down the puff-adder withhis walking-stick of which the top was forked. The kid immediately fellon to its side, and lay there bleeding and bleating. Tabitha began toweep, calling out, "My goat is killed," between her sobs.
Menzi, distinguishing her voice amid the tumult, asked what was thematter. Someone told him, whereon he commanded that the kid should bebrought to him and the snake also. This was done, Tabitha following herdying pet with her mother, for by now Thomas had departed, taking noheed of these events, which perhaps he was too disturbed to notice.
"Save my goat! Save my goat, O Menzi!" implored Tabitha.
The old witch-doctor looked at the animal, also at the hideouspuff-adder that had been dragged along the ground in the fork of thestick.
"It will be hard, Little Flower," he said, "seeing that the goat isbitten in the neck and this snake is very poisonous. Still for yoursake I will try, although I fear that it may prove but a waste of goodmedicine."
Then he took one of his bags and from it selected a certain packetwrapped in a dried leaf, out of which he shook some grey powder. Seizingthe kid, which seemed to be almost dead, he made an incision in itsthroat over the wound, and into it rubbed some of this powder. Next hespat upon more of the powder, thus turning it into a paste, and openingthe kid's mouth, thrust it down its throat, at the same time mutteringan invocation or spell.
"Now we must wait," he said, letting the kid fall upon the ground, whereit lay to all appearance dead.
"Is that powder any good?" asked Dorcas rather aimlessly.
"Yes, it is very good, Lady; a medicine of power of which I alonehave the secret, a magic medicine. See, I will show you. Except the_immamba_, the ring-snake that puffs out its head, this one is the mostdeadly in our country. Yet I do not fear it. Look!"
Leaning forward, he seized the puff-adder, and drawing it from beneaththe fork, suffered it to strike him upon the breast, after which hedeliberately killed it with a stone. Then he took some of the greypowder and rubbed it into the punctures; also put more of it into hismouth, which he swallowed.
"Oh!" exclaimed Dorcas, "he will die," and some of the Christian Kaffirsechoed her remark.
But Menzi did not die at all. On the contrary, after shivering a fewtimes he was quite himself, and, indeed, seemed rather brighter thanbefore, like a jaded business man who has drunk a cocktail.
"No, Wife of Tombool," he said, "I shall not die; every year I doctormyself with this magic medicine that is called _Dawa_, after which allthe snakes in Sisa-Land--remember that they are many, Little Flower--maybite me if they like."
"Is it your magic or is it the medicine that protects you?" askedDorcas.
"Both, Lady. The medicine _Dawa_ is of no use without the magic words,and the magic words are of no use without the medicine. Therefore alonein all the land I can cure snake bites, who have both medicine andmagic. Look at your goat, Little Flower. Look at your goat!"
Tabitha looked, as did everyone else. The kid was rising to its feet.It rose, it baa'd and presently began to frisk about its mistress, likeMenzi apparently rather brighter than before.
V
A year had gone by, during which time, by the most heroic exertions,Thomas Bull had at length succeeded in rebuilding the church. Thereit stood, a very nice mission-church, constructed of sun-dried bricksneatly plastered over, cool and spacious within, for the thatched roofwas lofty, beautifully furnished (the font and the pulpit had beenimported from England), and finished off with the spire and clock of hisdreams, the latter also imported from England and especially adjustedfor a hot climate.
Moreover, there was a sweet and loud-throated bell upon which the clockstruck, with space allowed for the addition of others that mustwait till Thomas could make up his mind to approach Dorcas as to theprovision of the necessary funds. Yes, the church was finished, and theBishop of those parts had made a special journey to consecrate it atthe hottest season of the year, and as a reward for his energy hadcontracted fever and nearly been washed away in a flooded river.
Only one thing was lacking, a sufficient congregation to fill this finechurch, which secretly the Bishop, who was a sensible man, thought wouldhave been of greater value had it been erected in any of severalother localities that he could have suggested. For alas! the Christiancommunity of Sisa-Land did not increase. Occasionally Thomas succeededin converting one of Menzi's followers, and occasionally Menzi snatcheda lamb from the flock of Thomas, with the result that the scalesremained even neither going up nor down.
The truth was, of course, that the matter was chiefly one of race; thoseof the Sisas in whom the Basuto blood preponderated became Christian,while those who were of the stubborn Zulu stock, strengthened andinspired by their prophet Menzi, remained unblushingly heathen.
Still Thomas did not despair. One day, he told himself, there would be agreat change, a veritable landslide, and he would see that church filledwith every Zulu in the district. Needless to say, he wished him no ill,but Menzi was an old man, and before long it might please Providence togather that accursed wizard to his fathers. For that he was a wizard ofsome sort Thomas no longer doubted, a person directly descended from theWitch of Endor, or from some others of her company who were mentionedin the Bible. There was ample authority for wizards, and if they existedthen why should they they not continue to do so? Since he could notexplain it, Thomas swallowed the magic, much as in his boyhood he usedto swallow the pills.
Yes, if only Menzi were removed by the will of Heaven, which really,thought Thomas, must be outraged by such proceedings, his opportunitywould come, and "Menzi's herd," as the heathens were called inSisa-land, would be added to his own. The Bishop, it is true, was notequally sanguine, but said nothing to discourage zeal so laudable and souncommon.
It was while his Lordship was recovering from the sharp bout of feverwhich he had developed in a new and mosquito-haunted hut with a dampfloor that had been especially erected for his accommodation, that atlast the question of the re-building of the mission-house came to ahead, which it could not do while all the available local labour, to saynothing of some hired from afar, was employed upon the church.
Thomas, it was true, wished to postpone it further, pointing out thata school was most necessary, and that after all they had grown quiteaccustomed to the huts and were fairly comfortable in them.
On this point, however, Dorcas was firm; indeed, it would not be toomuch to say that, having already been disappointed once, she struck withall the vigour of a trade-unionist. She explained that the situation ofthe huts on the brink of the river was low and most unhealthy, and thatin them she was becoming a victim to recurrent attacks of fever. He,Thomas, might be fever-proof, as indeed she thought he was. It was truealso that Tabitha had been extraordinarily well and grown much eversince she came to Sisa-Land, which puzzled her, inasmuch as the placewas notoriously unhealthy for children, even if they were of nativeblood. Indeed, in her agitation she added an unwise remark to theeffect that she could only explain their daughter's peculiar healthby supposing that Menzi had laid a "good charm" upon her, as all thenatives believed, and he announced publicly that he had done.
This made Thomas very angry, admittedly no
t without cause. Forgettinghis conversation to a belief in the reality of Menzi's magic, he talkedin a loud voice about the disgrace of being infected with vile, heathensuperstitions, such as he had never thought to hear uttered by hiswife's Christian lips. Dorcas, however, stuck to her point, and enforcedit by a domestic example, adding that the creatures which in politesociety are called "bed-pests," that haunted the straw of the huts,tormented her while Tabitha never had so much as a single bite.
The end of it was that the matter of mission-house _versus_ huts wasreferred to the Bishop for his opinion. As the teeth of his Lordshipwere chattering with ague resulting, he knew full well, from the feverhe had contracted in the said huts, Dorcas found in him a most valuableally. He agreed that a mission-house ought to be built before the schoolor anything else, and suggested that it should be placed in a higherand better situation, above the mists that rose from the river and theheight to which mosquitoes fly.
Bowing to the judgment of his superior, which really he heard withgratitude, although in his zeal and unselfishness he would havepostponed his own comfort and that of his family till other duties hadbeen fulfilled, Thomas replied that he knew only one such place whichwould be near enough to the Chief's town. It was on the koppie itself,about fifty feet above the level of and overhanging the river, where hehad noted there was always a breeze, even on the hottest day, since theconformation of this hill seemed to induce an unceasing draught of air.He added that if his Lordship were well enough, they might go to look atthe site.
So they went, all of them. Ascending a sloping, ancient path that wasnever precipitous, they came to the place, a flat tableland that perhapsmeasured an acre and a half, which by some freak of nature had beenscooped out of the side of the koppie, and was backed by a precipitouscliff in which were caves. The front part of this plateau, that whichapproached to and overhung the river, was of virgin rock, but theacre or so behind was filled with very rich soil that in the course ofcenturies had been washed down from the sides of the koppie, or resultedfrom the decomposition of its material.
"The very place," said the Bishop. "The access is easy. The house wouldstand here--no need to dig deep foundations in this stone, and behind,when those trees have been cleared away, you could have a beautiful andfertile garden where anything will grow. Also, look, there is a streamof pure water running from some spring above. It is an ideal site for ahouse, not more than three minutes' walk from the church below, the bestI should say in the whole valley. And then, consider the view."
Everyone agreed, and they were leaving the place in high spirits,Dorcas, who had household matters to attend, having already departed,when whom should they encounter but Menzi seated on a stone just wherethe path began to descend. Thomas would have passed him without noticeas one with whom he was not on speaking terms, but the Bishop, havingbeen informed by Tabitha who he was, was moved by curiosity to stop andinterchange some words with him, as knowing his tongue perfectly, hecould do.
"_Sakubona_" (that is, "good day"), he said politely.
Menzi rose and saluted with his habitual courtesy, first the Bishop,then the others, as usual reserving his sweetest smile for Tabitha.
"Great Priest," he said at once, "I understand that the Teacher Tomboolintends to build his house upon this place."
The Bishop wondered how on earth the man knew that, since the matter hadonly just been decided by people talking in English, but answered thatperhaps he might do so.
"Great Priest," went on Menzi in an earnest voice, "I pray you to forbidthe Teacher Tombool from doing anything of the sort."
"Why, friend?" asked the Bishop.
"Because, Great Priest, this place is haunted by the spirits of thedead, and those who live here will be haunted also. Hearken. I myselfwhen I was young have seen evil-doers brought from Zululand and hurledfrom that rock, blinded and broken-armed, by order of the King. I saythat scores have been thrown thence to be devoured by the crocodiles inthe pool below. Will such a sight as this be pleasant for white eyes tolook upon, and will such cries as those of the evil-doers who have 'gonedown' be nice for white ears to hear in the silence of the night?"
"But, my good man," said the Bishop, "what you say is nonsense. Thesepoor creatures are dead, 'gone down' as you say, and do not return. WeChristians have no belief in ghosts, or if they exist we are protectedfrom them."
"None at all," interposed Thomas boldly and speaking in Zulu. "This man,my Lord, is at his old tricks. For reasons of his own he is tryingto frighten us; for my part I will not be frightened by a nativewitch-doctor and his rubbish, even if he does deal with Satan. With yourpermission I shall certainly build the mission-house here."
"Quite right, of course, quite right," said the Bishop, though withinhimself he reflected that evidently the associations of the spot weredisagreeable, and that were he personally concerned, perhaps he shouldbe inclined to consider an alternative site. However, it was a matterfor Mr. Bull to decide.
"I hear that Tombool will not be turned from his purpose. I hear that hewill still build his house upon this rock. So be it. Let him do so andsee. But this I say, that Imba, the Floweret, shall not be haunted bythe _Isitunzi_ (the ghosts of the dead) who wail in the night," saidMenzi.
He advanced to Tabitha, and holding his hands over her he cried out:
"Sweet eyes, be blind to the _Isitunzi_. Little ears, do not hear theirgroans. Spirits, build a garden fence about this flower and keep hersafe from all night-prowling evil things. Imba, little Flower, sleepsoftly while others lie awake and tremble."
Then he turned and departed swiftly.
"Dear me!" said the Bishop. "A strange man, a very strange man. I don'tknow quite what to make of him."
"I do," answered Thomas, "he is a black-hearted villain who is in leaguewith the devil."
"Yes, I dare say--I mean as to his being a villain, that is accordingto our standards--but does your daughter--a clever and most attractivelittle girl, by the way--think so? She seemed to look on him withaffection--one learns to read children's eyes, you know. A very strangeman, I repeat. If we could see all his heart we should know lots ofthings and understand more about these people than we do at present. Hasit ever struck you, Mr. Bull, how little we white people _do_ understandof the black man's soul? Perhaps a child can see farther into it thanwe can. What is the saying--'a little child shall lead them,' is itnot? Perhaps we do not make enough allowances. 'Faith, Hope and Charity,these three, but the greatest of these is charity'--or love, which isthe same thing. However, of course you are quite right not to have beenfrightened by his silly talk about the _Isitunzi_, it would never do toshow fear or hesitation. Still, I am glad that Mrs. Bull did not hearit; you may have noticed that she had gone on ahead, and if I were youI should not repeat it to her, since ladies are so nervous. Tabitha, mydear, don't tell your mother anything of all this."
"No, Bishop," answered Tabitha, "I never tell her all the queer thingsthat Menzi says to me when I meet him, or at least not many of them."
"I wish I had asked him if he had a cure for your local fever," said theBishop with a laugh, "for against it, although I have taken so much thatmy ears buzz, quinine cannot prevail."
"He has given me one in a gourd, Bishop," replied Tabithaconfidentially, "but I have never taken any, because you see I have hadno fever, and I haven't told mother, for if I did she would tell father"(Thomas had stridden ahead, and was out of hearing), "and he might beangry because he doesn't like Menzi, though I do. Will you have some,Bishop? It is well corked up with clay, and Menzi said it would keep foryears."
"Well, my dear," answered the Bishop, "I don't quite know. There may beall sorts of queer things in Mr. Menzi's medicine. Still, he told you todrink it if necessary, and I am absolutely certain that he does notwish to poison _you_. So perhaps I might have a try, for really I feeluncommonly ill."
So later on, with much secrecy, the gourd was produced, and the Bishophad "a try." By some strange coincidence he felt so much better after itthat he begged for the rest o
f the stuff to comfort him on his homewardjourney, which ultimately he accomplished in the best of health.
That most admirable and wide-minded prelate departed, and so far ashistory records was no more seen in Sisa-Land. But Thomas remained,and set about the building of the house with his usual vigour. Upon theDeath Rock, as it was called, in course of time he erected an excellentand most serviceable dwelling, not too large but large enough, havingevery comfort and convenience that his local experience could suggestand money could supply, since in this matter the cheque-book of thesuffering Dorcas was entirely at his service.
At length the house was finished, and with much rejoicing the Bullfamily, deserting their squalid huts, moved into it at the commencementof the hot season. After the first agitations of the change and of thearrangement of the furniture newly-arrived by wagon, they settled downvery comfortably, directing all their energies towards the developmentof the garden, which had already been brought into some rough orderduring the building of the house.
One difficulty, however, arose at once. For some mysterious reason theyfound that not a single native servant would sleep in the place, no, noteven Tabitha's personal attendant, who adored her. Every soul of themsuddenly developed a sick mother or other relative who would instantlyexpire if deprived of the comfort of their society after dark. Or elsethey themselves became ailing at that hour, saying they could not sleepupon a cliff like a rock-rabbit.
At any rate, for one cause or another off they went the very moment thatthe sun vanished behind the western hills, nor did they re-appear untilit was well up above those that faced towards the east.
Smith and the Pharaohs, and other Tales Page 15
