CHAPTER THREE.
SHIMINYA THE SORCERER.
Shiminya the sorcerer was seated within his "muti" kraal on the banks ofthe Umgwane river.
This kraal was situated in the heart of a vast thicket of "wait-a-bit"thorns. It was enclosed by a closely woven fence of the sameredoubtable growth, whose height and bristling solidity laughed to scornthe efforts of man or beast. The main approach consisted of a narrowlabyrinthine passage; other approaches there were, but known only to itsweird occupant, who had mechanical but secret means of his own of beingwarned of any advance, even by the recognised way, some time before thevisitor or visitors should arrive at the gate.
This formidable stockade enclosed a space in which stood three huts,circular, with low conical roofs of thatch, and in front of theseShiminya was squatting. He had a large bowl in his hands, which he keptturning from side to side, narrowly scrutinising its contents, whichsmelt abominably, half muttering, half singing to himself the while. Infront, its head couched between its paws, dog-like, blinking its yelloweyes, lay an animal. Yet it was not a dog, but represented the smallerspecies of hyaena--the South African "wolf."
This brute looked grim and uncanny enough, but not more so than hismaster. The latter was a native of small stature and very black hue,with features of an aquiline, almost Semitic cast. But the glance ofhis eye was baleful, cruel as that of a serpent, keen, rapacious as thatof a hawk; and while the muscular development of his frame was slightalmost to puniness, his sinister features showed that which must everdominate over mere brutal sinew and brawn, viz. Mind. Craft, guile,cunning, illimitable patience, and dauntless courage all fought for themastery in the thin cruel features of the sorcerer.
His whole aspect differed as widely as possible from the pure-bloodMatabele, which is scarcely surprising, seeing that he could boast nostrain of that warrior race. He was, in fact, of the Amaholi, or slavecaste; but as among other and more powerful nations of both new and oldcivilisation, Mind is bound to tell Shiminya--at the time we make hisacquaintance and for some years previously--was one of the highest inthe ranks of the mysterious hierarchy known to the natives as "Childrenof the Umlimo."
The origin of the cultus of this sinister abstraction has never beenlocated with certainty. Its hierarchy was protected, if not encouraged,by Lo Bengula and his warrior sire, probably out of three partspolitical motive to a fourth superstitious; and now, at the period ofour story, when the dynasty and despotism of the Matabele kings had gonedown before the Maxims of the Chartered Company, the shadowy-sayings ofthe Umlimo began to be sought out eagerly by the conquered race, and arosy time seemed likely to set in for the myrmidons of the abstraction.
These, with the astuteness of their craft all the world over, saw theirtime. The conquered race, strange to say, was not satisfied. It hadsignally failed to appreciate the blessings of civilisation. If lifewas a trifle less secure under the rule of the King, why, that was allin accordance with national custom. In the good old days there wasplenty of fun and fighting, of raids far and near; of the mustering ofregiments at the King's kraal, and cattle-killing and feasting anddancing. Yes, life was life in those days, when looked at from thepoint, of view of a warrior nation. But now, all this had given placeto a state of things which from that point of view was utterly nauseous.The great circle of Bulawayo proudly dominating the land was razed tothe ground, its place occupied by a solitary house, whence the white mangoverned a nation of conquered slaves. Below, in the valley, whichformerly shook to the hum and thunder of marching impis, the white manwas dumping down his iron houses and calling it his town. Throughoutthe land even the oldest and most powerful indunas were under whiteofficials, to whom they were obliged to give deferential greeting, andall the little phases of excitement incidental to former days weresternly forbidden. Moreover, the conquerors had seized all the cattleof the nation, and now the land was flooded with arrogant, masterfulwhites, to whom no spot was sacred if only it was thought to contain alittle gold. Outwardly patient, but with black rage and inexhaustiblehostility gnawing at their hearts, chiefs and people alike sullenlybrooded; and on such dry tinder the sparks, artfully kindled by the"Abantwana 'Mlimo," fell as on well-prepared ground.
Seated there upon the ground, Shiminya continued to shake his bowl ofhell-broth. Save for a few birds' claws and a bladder or two fastenedin his thick wool--for he was not ringed--he was destitute of therevolting gewgaws of his profession. Suddenly the wolf emitted a lowsnarl, simultaneously with an inarticulate wail which proceeded from thehut behind.
"Ha--my Lupiswana! Ha--ha, my good little beast!" chuckled Shiminya,apostrophising the creature. "Tea--lick thy jaws, for I think it istime for more blood--only a little--only a taste. _Hau_!"
As though understanding these words the brute rose, and sneaked over tothe wicker door of the hut, sniffing at the fastenings, sullenlygrowling. Rising, the wizard followed, and, pushing back the animal,crept into the hut, and slapped the door to in its jaws. At hisappearance the low moaning rose again, and in its note was the veryextremity of pain and fear.
It proceeded from a long dark form lying on the ground, which the eyes,becoming accustomed to the semi-light of the interior, would have nohesitation in pronouncing as human. Further investigation would revealit a female form, securely bound and lashed to a pole; a female formtoo, dowered with no small share of symmetry and comeliness. The face,when undistorted by pain and terror, must have been a pleasing one inthe extreme.
"Ah--ah, Nompiza!" chuckled the wizard, rubbing his hands together."The children of Umlimo have pretty houses, do they not--pretty houses?"And he glanced gleefully around his horrible den.
For this is just what it was. Human skulls and bones decked theplastered wall, but the most dreadful object of all was the whole skinof the head and face of a man--of a white man too, with a long heavybeard. This awful object glowered down in the semi-gloom, a gruesomeexpression of pain in the pucker of the parchment-like hide. Greatsnake-skins depended from the roof--the heads artfully stuffed, and theattitudes arranged to simulate life; and many a horrid object,suggestive of torture and death, was disposed around.
"A pretty house, Nompiza--ah--ah--a pretty house, is it not?" chuckledShiminya, leering down into the young woman's face. "And thou hast onlyto speak one word to be taken out of it. Yet I wonder not at thyrefusal."
"I will not speak it, Shiminya," she replied, with some fire of spirit."The rattle of these old bones has no terror for me. And if thouharmest me further, there are those who will avenge me, child of theUmlimo or not."
For all answer the wizard laughed softly but disdainfully. Thenreaching to the door, he opened it. The wolf leaped in, snarling.
"See now, thou obstinate Nompiza," he went on, restraining the brutewith a flourish of a large stick painted red, before which it coweredback. "This is Lupiswana--no ordinary wolf. Whoever this one bitesbecomes _tagati_, and will be hunted through the night by him afterdeath, until they can escape only by riding on him as the white men ridetheir horses. Then, if they fall off, they are hunted again night afternight--for ever and ever. Ha!"
At the enunciation of this grim superstition the unfortunate prisonertugged at her bonds, uttering a shriek of terror. She recognised herenot the dog she had at first expected to see, but the horrid mongrelbeast held in abhorrence by the superstitious. The growlings of thebrute redoubled.
"Now, tell quickly," went on the wizard. "The news of the meeting thoudidst make known to two people only. Their names? Hesitate not, or--"
"Shall I be allowed to depart from here if I tell, child of the Umlimo?"she gasped eagerly.
"Thou shalt be taken hence. Oh yes, thou shalt be taken hence."
"Swear it. Swear it," she cried.
"Umzilikazi!" rejoined the wizard, thus ratifying his assertion by thesacred name of the great king, founder of the nation.
But now, seeing its master's vigilance relaxed, the wolf sprang forward,and, with a horrid mumbling snarl, burie
d its fangs in the helplessprisoner's thigh. A wild, piteous, despairing shriek rent the interiorof this fiend's den.
"Take it off! Take it off! Oh, I am devoured! Quick! I will tell!"
Seizing a pair of iron tongs, Shiminya compelled the now infuriatedbrute to loose its hold, and following it with a tremendous blow on thehead, it retreated yelling to the further side of the hut.
"The names--quick--ere it seizes thee again," urged the wizard.
"Pukele," she howled, frantic with agony and terror.
"The son of thy father, who is servant to Jonemi?"
"The same. The other is Ntatu."
The words seemed squeezed from the sufferer. Her thigh, horriblylacerated by the jaws of the savage beast, streaming with blood, wasquivering in every nerve.
"Thy sister, formerly wife of Makani?"
"The same. Now, child of the Umlimo, suffer me to depart."
"Thy thigh is not well enough, sister," replied the wizard, in a softpurring voice, putting his head on one side, and surveying her throughhalf closed eyes. "Tarry till evening, then shalt thou be taken hence._Au_! It is not good to be seen quitting the abode of Shiminya. Thereis _tagati_ in it."
Having first kicked the wolf out of the hut, the sorcerer set to work totend the wound of his helpless victim. She, for her part, lay andmoaned feebly. She had purchased her life, but at what a cost. Still,even the magnificent physical organisation of a fine savage was notproof against all she had undergone, for this was not her first taste ofthe torture since being forcibly seized by the satellites of Shiminyaand brought hither.
Now, moaning in her pain, Nompiza lay and reflected. She had betrayedtwo of her father's children, had marked them out for the vengeance ofnot only the Abantwana 'Mlimo, but of the disaffected chiefs. This,however, might be remedied. Once out of this she would go straight toJonemi--which was the name by which John Ames was known to the natives,being a corruption of his own--and claim protection for herself andthem, perhaps even procure the arrest of Shiminya. This thought came asa ray of light to the savage girl as she lay there. The white men wouldprotect and avenge her. Yet--poor simpleton!
"Of what art thou thinking, Nompiza?" said the wizard, softly, as herefrained from his seeming work of mercy. "_Au_! Shall I tell thee?It is that thou wilt reveal to Jonemi all thou knowest of the gatheringat the Home of the Umlimo when the moon was full. So shalt thou savethyself and Pukele and Ntatu, the children of thy father."
A cry of terror escaped the sufferer. How should she have forgottenthat this dreadful sorcerer could read the thoughts of men?
"Not so, my father, not so," she prayed. "I ask for nothing but to beallowed to go home."
"To go home? But how would that avail one who has been bitten byLupiswana? There is no escape from that. Lupiswana will come for theeafter death. Thou wilt be hunted round for ever, with Lupiswanabiting--biting--at thee even as now, and thou wilt spring wildly forwardto avoid his bites, and his teeth will close in thy flesh, even as now.Thou wilt run wailing round the kraals of thy people, hunted ever byLupiswana, but they will not admit thee. They will cover their heads interror lest the same doom overtake them. _Hau_! Even this night willthat doom begin."
"This night?" echoed the victim, feeling well-nigh dead with an awfulfear. "This night? Now, my father, thou hast promised--hast sworn--Ishall be allowed to depart."
"I did but mean the night of death," replied the other, his head on oneside, his eyes glittering with satanic mirth. "That may be when thouart old and tottering, Nompiza, or it may mean this night, for what istime but a flash, even as that of the summer lightning? The night ofdeath will surely come."
No relief came into the face of the sufferer. The awful fate predictedfor her by Shiminya seemed to her just as certain as though it hadalready befallen her, and the recollection of the horrid animal tearingat her flesh was too recent. It was a form of superstition, too, notunknown among her people, and here everything seemed to bring it home--time, place, surroundings, and the horror of this gruesome being'spresence. But before she would utter further prayer or protest, astrange hollow, humming noise was heard, at sound of which Shiminyaarose suddenly, with an eager look on his repulsive countenance, andcrept out of the hut, taking care to secure the door behind him.
John Ames, Native Commissioner: A Romance of the Matabele Rising Page 3
