Chapter Six.
Metilulu—I have Faint Hopes.
I could not have remained unconscious long, indeed it seemed but a moment’s space, when I was brought to by the excruciating pain caused by the no gentle withdrawal of the spear or assagai, as I found it was called, out of my arm. But the “moment’s space” had been sufficient for them to bind my hands firmly with a strip of hide behind my back. With as little ceremony as gentleness they pulled me to my feet, when weak and giddy, for the blood was flowing fast from my shoulder, I examined my captors.
They were of the true Kaffir type—tall, well-made, noble and graceful in their bearing, patterns of manly beauty, save the face, and even here the features were far superior to most of the African dark-skinned tribes; the cheek bones were not prominent, the lips were not of the negro class, though thicker than the European. Quickly I took this inventory of my captors, and also perceived that my being a white man had created no little surprise among them—they talked and jabbered together, ever glancing at me, then turning began to march forward, myself in the midst.
What Mr Ferguson and Jack were doing I could not tell. I certainly could not see them, and therefore hoped, by keeping quiet in the pit, that they had escaped detection. I did not for an instant blame them for not having endeavoured to rescue me, for what could they have done without arms and pitted against fifteen times their numbers. It would have led to the massacre of three instead of one—and one, I felt certain, unless Providence again aided me, it would be.
Rapidly we moved along towards the hill, too rapidly for my strength. I reeled and stumbled as I went, my pain added to by the tightness of the hide about my wrists. Each moment I felt that I should fall, for the loss of blood was growing serious, when a Kaffir, evidently one in authority, who was walking by my side, seemed to become aware of my situation, for he spoke to another, who gliding swiftly off returned in a few moments bringing the leaves of some plant, cool and fresh, which the one who had sent him bound round my arm. After this we went on again, I striving to look my gratitude, hoping in my heart that the tribe into whose power I had fallen was of those friendly ones of whom Mr Ferguson had spoken.
On reaching the crest of the hill, which I had been looking forward to with some curiosity, I perceived in the centre of a plain similar to the one we had just quitted, the kraal, or home of the Kaffir, which I will here describe according to how it appeared to me, only, to give clearness to the description, using the native terms when necessary, though I did not learn them till afterwards.
The kraal then was made of two circular fences, the outer being about half-a-mile or more in diameter, the other much smaller, and enclosing what we should call a meadow, termed here the isibaya, in which are carefully kept the cows, the pride of the Kaffir. Between these two fences formed of poles, whose tops crossing make a protection like a cheveux-de-frise against an enemy, were numerous huts in the shape of half a Dutch cheese, the flat part being placed on the ground. These were composed of thatch lashed together with baboon ropes. In respect to the shape of the huts, I may as well mention here, that the Kaffirs build everything round, and have no idea of any other form. I have heard it said in jest that a tailless cat must walk in a circle—from whatever point they start from, they must return to the same. So it appears with the natives of Caffraria, for however the women, who are the chief builders, begin, they are sure to bring the construction finally to a circle.
Near the kraal a little on the outside grew a peculiar tree called the Euphorbia, which grows to forty feet high, is entirely leafless, prickly, and branches out like a candelabrum; its juice is extremely acrid and poisonous, indeed the tree is of the same species as the wart weed which grows, where weeds are permitted, in English gardens.
As we approached, my guards uttered a peculiar cry, upon which the kraal, a moment before lying so still and peaceful in the clear moonlight, became animated with numberless black figures, like a swarm of bees. Breaking into a quicker step, we soon reached the small aperture leading into the huts, and were instantly surrounded by a crowd of Kaffirs dressed similarly to those I had already seen, that is, with ropes of hides and beads coiled round their waists; the aprons of strips of fur or animals’ tails hanging in front and behind, and bracelets and anklets of hide, string, or bone round their wrists and legs. Each also bore an assagai and shield, giving them a most formidable appearance, as with much gesticulation they stared at me.
A consultation seemed to be taking place between the head men, during which the women and children, who also had turned out, took their full share of inspection, so I, having nothing better to do, returned the scrutiny, and speedily came to the opinion that, however well the men might be made, the women when passed maidenhood were positively disgustingly hideous.
The girls’ attire was little more than the men—when women or married they, on special occasions, wear a petticoat of some material, reaching to the knee, now this was absent—while their rough woolly hair was ornamented with bones, beads, and the spines of the white thorn. As for the children, they were as devoid of clothes as when they were born.
I had scarcely taken all this in, when a young Kaffir, whom I had seen sent away, returned; and no sooner had he delivered his message, than about half-a-dozen of my guards surrounding me, began to move on, the crowd falling back, yet still following and chattering like so many monkeys.
Proceeding nearly half round the kraal, we came to a hut of much larger dimensions than the others, while I observed on the thatch the skulls of several oxen to be fastened. The entrance was so low that I had to pass through on my hands and knees, preceded and followed by my guards. The first thing that struck me on putting my head in, was the exceedingly disgusting odour of the interior, most repulsive to the sensitive organs of the European.
The anxiety respecting my position, however, made me pay little heed to this; but rising to my feet I gazed round with some curiosity.
The interior walls were composed of hardened mud, the roof being supported by pillars, covered, to my surprise, by beads, and from which were hung shields, assagais, and gourds; while bunches of maize, much blackened by soot, were suspended from the roof. Around the sides of the hut were ranged rudely-made baskets, pitchers, and other culinary utensils, and on the floor, flattened to a perfect evenness and polish, were several sleeping-mats, constructed from animals’ skins.
On one of the latter, I was not surprised to see the fat Kaffir who had been present at the dance, and thinking it as well to be polite—even should they not understand the European fashion of being so—I made a most profound obeisance.
The chief having looked fixedly at me, addressed my guards who, I could tell by their manner and actions, were explaining how I had fallen into their hands. This coming to an end, with some dignity and much importance he spoke to me, whereupon, shaking my head, I gave him to understand that his language was unknown to me. Metilulu, for that I afterwards learned was his name, then gave an order to one of the attendants, who, quitting the hut, speedily returned with a young, rather good-looking Kaffir, possessing a figure like the marble statues I had seen in other lands and my own. He was indeed splendid, and I was admiringly examining this fine specimen of humanity, when I was startled by hearing myself addressed in my own tongue, though the pronunciation was queer. I found it was the young Kaffir who thus spoke. He stood between the chief and me, and said—
“The mighty Elephant, the pride of his tribe, says, are you European?”
“I am,” I answered, no little pleased to think that I could explain my position, and perhaps win their commiseration. “I am a shipwrecked sailor, who was cast on your land the evening before last.”
“You are not Boer?—you are not spy?” he continued suspiciously, after repeating my words to the chief.
I speedily answered no, to this dangerous accusation, and pointing to my tattered clothes explained how the sea had torn me and them. Then I begged him to tell the great chief how I threw myself upon his mercy and hospitality trusting that he would not treat as an enemy a poor shipwrecked mariner such as I, who really was not one; and that could he pass me over to an European settlement, I should be sincerely grateful; but if he kept me prisoner, he must—I would bow to his decree, yet I hoped he, so brave a warrior, would not think it necessary to take my life, as my coming on the coast was, no fault of mine, neither was it to do him wrong.
I made my words and manner as eloquent as I could, and fancied even before my speech was interpreted to him that I had made an effect.
With much anxiety I listened for the reply. It came—
“The Great Elephant says he cannot send you to a settlement. They are far distance with much bush, much danger between—you must remain his prisoner. If you are peaceful, in his great mercy, he gives you your life; if not, you must die.”
Upon this I knelt and bowed low in token of gratitude, then awaited what was to come next, which was that the following day the chief and his councillors would hear me give an account of the land I had come from, meanwhile, my place must be with the “boys,” who should be ordered not to ill-treat me, but who also should receive positive commands to pierce me with their assagais the instant I showed the least intention of escaping. Again I made my obeisance, and rising, prepared to take my leave with my guards. I once had it on my lips to mention the close proximity of my companions, yet, on second thoughts I remained silent, for despite my present good luck, I felt certain that the least thing might prove my death-warrant with the great chief, such as a raid of the Dutch Boers, of whom by their desire to know if I were a spy of theirs, and the frequent repetition of the name, I fancied they stood in no small dread.
Therefore I held my tongue, as I certainly did not feel very easy in my mind in regard to my ultimate fate.
The “boys” I found to be, not boys in years, but the unmarried men of the tribe, who had separate huts to themselves. Conducted by my guards into one of these, I was instantly surrounded by the “boys” who never seemed as if they could look at me enough. The inspection was anything but pleasant; and seeing that the interpreter had accompanied us, I ventured to say I was suffering both from hunger and thirst, whereupon I had handed me some sour clotted milk, termed amasi, some maize, and a liquid which passes there for beer. Eagerly I drank the latter, then having eaten the rest, hunger alone making it palatable, I took possession of the mat allotted me, and feeling from the chief’s words, and curiosity to know more about me, that I should at any rate be safe till the morning, soon fell into a sound sleep—as sound rather as the pest of Kaffirland, the fleas which swarm there, would permit—in which the staring “boys” about me, and my strange and perilous position were forgotten in dreams of my pleasant Cornish home among the rocks, and of Katie and my children.