CHAPTER III
Zululand was next visited. During the reign of their kings Zulus controlled their own internal affairs—made their own laws, apportioned the land, chastised their subjects, conferred with British officials concerning border line rules—were, in fact, in every sense, a distinct, unfettered race of people. Zululand was Zululand then. War after war, with gatling guns and modern fighting implements pitted against their mediæval arms—the assegai, or spear—naturally made the tribe submissive and wiped out their border line. So long as they had a king there was always danger of trouble from Zululand. Dinizulu, the last ruler, was taken prisoner, and was "boarded" in a Transvaal penitentiary until a few years ago, when he died. The border line between Natal and Zululand passed away, and the interests of the Zulus and the affairs of Zululand are now looked after and administered by officials of the Province of Natal.
The train, passing through cuts and grades, is half embowered with flowering trees, growing on the banks. The giant bamboo, in obedience to a summery wind, was gracefully swaying to and fro; the aloe, with its flowery top, sixteen feet above the ground, sentinel-like, contributed its share to the floral ensemble, and, together with an almost endless tract of soft, light green sugar-cane growing on each side of the railroad track, offered a mellow landscape found in but few parts of the world.
A depressing contrast to nature—the Indian coolie scourge—is witnessed at every stopping place in this part. We were in the sugar growing section of Natal, and, as mentioned previously, Indian coolies are employed entirely in this industry. There they were by hundreds, most of them of objectionable appearance, and a dirty, almost naked, baby astraddle every woman's hip, the Hindu mother's custom of carrying her child.
We reached the Tugela River, the border line between Natal and Zululand, and, thirty miles further, the train stopped at Ginginhlovu, our destination. Ginginhlovu (elephant, in Zulu) was 93 miles from where we started, and the train was seven hours running that distance, running to schedule, too. Indian shanty stores were pleasantly absent, as none but white traders are allowed to do business in Zululand.
The post cart is the stage coach of South Africa. Strongly built, it is covered with canvas, has two wide wheels and contains two seats. A seat will accommodate three persons in a pinch—the maximum capacity of the coach being five passengers and the driver—but as the latter usually takes up two-thirds of the front seat to handle the large team required to draw the coach, the ordinary capacity of the cart is four passengers, three occupying the rear and one the front seat. A frame at the back serves for luggage, and small hand baggage may be put under the seats. Four or six mules comprise a cart team, the charge being ten cents a mile.
We left the railroad, and our mode of travel into the interior of Zululand was by cart, wagon—a conveyance drawn by beasts. Five passengers, the maximum number, squeezed themselves into the cart. The next trip inland was on the following day, for which we would have to wait, the station-master had informed us, "unless there was a transport going to Eshowe." Eventually a transport—a truck 18 feet long—was found, the driver of which said he thought he had room for another passenger. The transport, ridged with bags of cornmeal five feet high, was drawn by four teams of mules.
"Climb on," said the driver to a group of six; "we'll be starting in a few minutes." Three women, two men and a boy began to scale the transport up to the top of the load. "Get up," said the driver to the mules, when a start was made for the interior of Zululand, the passengers sitting on the top tier of cornmeal bags of the loaded African transport.
We traveled slowly seventeen miles over a good macadam road. "That's the home of Dinizulu, the Zulu king," said the boy passenger, as we passed a frame building close to the road. We reached our destination just at sundown—Eshowe, the old capital of Zululand, and one of the prettiest places visited in South Africa.
Shade trees, flowers, comfortable homes built in spacious yards; small, but substantial, public buildings; a good library, a wooded glen just away from the town, in which had been built a splendid cement swimming pool, give an insight into what the old Zulu capital looks like now. The comfortable appearance of Eshowe has been made by the European. English and native weekly papers are printed here, and the quality of the work is good.
A European boy volunteered to show me about town. He had taken me to the swimming pool, and as we were passing through a timbered portion of this natural park he suddenly shouted, "Look out!" He then pointed to a big fly that had just passed between us. "If that fly had struck you the bitten part would swell up as large as a hen's egg. Often the effects of the bite will assume the nature of an ulcer," he added. A great number of flies in South Africa draw blood when they strike a victim, whether man or beast.
We had 35 miles more to travel before our last stop in Zululand would be reached. The post cart left at five o'clock in the morning, with four passengers, and was drawn by four mules. The road was level for the most part, with high grass growing on each side, broken only by an occasional giraffe thorn or mimosa tree. The mimosa was in flower, and so much fragrance was diffused from the thorn tree that one would know of its existence if it were not in sight a hundred feet away.
"Hello, Graham!" shouted one of the passengers to a white man who stood in the door of a building at which we had pulled up. We had reached N'Halini, the first relay, where we breakfasted. "Hello! everybody," returned Graham, for he proved to be the proprietor of the eating station. "I haven't any eggs to serve you this morning, but I'm strong on steak, ham and bacon. Bring out a big piece of steak to make up for the eggs," he directed one of his Zulu boys.
Graham is a sailor with a wooden leg. He entertained us by telling how many times he had been caught in the net fastened to the boom of a sailing ship—a "wind-jammer," as he termed that style of craft—and how, when encountering the fierce gales that blow in the Straits of Magellan, he had been blown entirely off his feet, his body being lifted in mid-air, his legs suggestive of ribbons, while holding to a deck rail.
"Did you get enough to eat?" he asked, when we had finished. And we admitted we had. Graham had two pigs eaten by crocodiles the day before, and he could not restrain himself from bemoaning his luck.
"So long, fellows! I'll have eggs for you when you come back. So long!" were the parting words of the onetime sailor, as, with an additional team of mules, we started on our second relay.
"Sit forward, please, while we are going up this seven-mile hill; the cart is tilting back too much," said the driver. We had five passengers now, as another one had got on at Graham's place. It's easier to say Graham's place than it is to try to pronounce the Zulu name.
On, on we traveled over those beautiful hills of Zululand, the passengers chatting as we moved along. Grassy hills, 500 feet high, bare of timber and even shrubbery, with native huts built on the sides, and small patches of corn growing here and there, proved of interest. Vultures were flying high up in the air, bevies of guinea fowl scurried to cover, and the wagtail, a black and white bird of swallow size, with a tail ten inches long, crossed the roadway from time to time. We had been told of the beauty of Zululand, and nothing had been exaggerated.
Grass—long and short—was growing everywhere, enough to feed millions of cattle, and not a "critter" grazing in sight. The Zulus, before and for some years after the white man settled in South Africa, were a wealthy tribe. Hundreds of thousands of cattle, sheep and goats roamed over and fed off these ever-grassy hills; but tick fever—East Coast fever, it is as often called—had fattened the vultures and made the Zulu poor.
We reached the second relay, then the third, but the beauty of landscape did not diminish. Our next relay will be the end of our stage journey—Melmoth—52 miles from the railroad.
"The stopping off place" is a term often heard, but when one reaches a point where there is no railroad and the terminus only of post carts, it is certainly the stopping off place. Europeans live in remote places still beyond Melmoth, and their mail is brought to them by native postmen on foot.
We reached our destination early in the afternoon. Mail for persons living beyond "the stopping off place," brought with us in the cart, was to start on its way at three o'clock. As it was a week before Christmas, the post contained a great number of Christmas presents. The mail finally being sorted, it was entrusted to the postman's care. All the letters could be put in a coat pocket, but the presents strapped to his body made a heavy load.
A Zulu, six feet tall, stood on the porch of the squatty postoffice building, looking like an off-colored Santa Claus. Having reached for a stick a foot longer than his height, he stood up straight, waiting for the word to go.
"All right, Jim," the postmaster ordered in the native tongue. "Ba, ba," returned the negro in a low voice, bowing and saluting, with one hand raised to the side of his head. He turned round quickly and walked alertly in the direction where white people live, to be made happy by presents sent to them by friends living in distant lands. Thirty-three miles was the distance the Zulu carried the mail. It was three o'clock in the afternoon when he left the Melmoth post office, and was due at the next post station at 9:30 the morning following.
"He'll be there on the minute," the postmaster replied to a question as to whether the carrier could travel the distance in the time allotted, considering the heavy load. "He never fails us. Always on time—in hail, rain or shine," he concluded.
Zulus "Scoffing" Mealy Meal.
Zululand, South Africa.
Zulu huts are round, the framework being of poles bent half circular, tied with grass rope. The arch poles are supported with bent poles strung crosswise, these being made secure by grass rope. Roof and sides are covered with grass and reeds, secured to the framework with the same kind of rope. The floor is of soil, generally taken from an ant-hill, and becomes as compact as cement. In the center of the hut, what may be termed a sort of earthen vessel is built, sometimes 18 inches across, and this is the cooking place—the stove. Zulus build good huts. No windows are provided, however, and but one low entrance. The cooking utensils are limited to an iron kettle, with three legs. This is placed in the "stove." Cornmeal (called mealy meal) is the chief food, which is boiled in the three-legged kettle, and, when cooked, the family gathers round it, some sitting on the floor and others resting on their haunches. Each member is supplied with a wooden spoon, and with these they eat mealy meal as long as there is any to be eaten. A ladle to stir the mush, cut out of a calabash, is generally seen in a Zulu home. The bed is a cotton blanket, spread on the earthen floor, and a bowed piece of wood, resting on two upright pieces at each end, about four inches high, serves as a pillow. A soap box may occasionally be found in a hut, but no chairs. The interior is generally black with smoke from the "stove," a strong, sooty odor being noticeable.
The Zulu tribe does not "colonize"—or, rather, assemble in villages, as each family live by themselves. Huts are numerous, of course, but one rarely, if ever, finds a settlement—a town. They live in "kraals." A kraal is a group of huts, numbering from two to ten, surrounded by a fence, generally composed of thorn brush. The collection of huts generally indicates the number of wives that that Zulu has. One hut is always larger than the others, this being occupied by the first wife. Where cattle are kept together in a small area inclosed by a fence, it becomes a cattle kraal. Sometimes one kraal serves as a shelter for both natives and cattle.
Polygamy is common. The method of obtaining a wife is by purchase from the father. Cattle is the medium of barter, from 10 to 80 cows being the number asked for each girl. A wife who can be bought for 10 cows is just the ordinary girl. The daughter of a petty chief would bring 20 cows, and a girl of royal descent could not be purchased for less than 70 to 100 cows.
When a Zulu wishes to marry he comes to an understanding with the girl's father concerning the number of cattle that must be paid for the bride, and he must not forget to include among them another nice beast, which is slaughtered and eaten at the wedding feast. The marriage always takes place at the home of the bridegroom. The bride, with her attendants, arrives the evening before the wedding day. The extra ox is killed early in the morning.
The bride wears a veil of beads over her face for several hours while the ceremony is taking place. Certain persons are appointed to celebrate the marriage. Dancing is indulged in during this period. The father of the bride steps forward among the merrymakers and bespeaks the merits of his daughter. An old woman runs backward and forward among the guests, holding in her hand a small stick, pointing upward, and cackling like a hen. Dancing is going on all the time, one "group" of dancers holding the "stage" until exhausted, when another group will fill the vacated space and inject renewed life into the ceremony.
The bridegroom must show his valor during the pow-wow. He steps into the arena with two sticks in his hand—stout walking-sticks. A series of thrusts, feints, dodges, ducking, then a terrible thrust; more fencing, another awful jab; snorting, sweating, uttering deep grunts of satisfaction; stamping his feet heavily on the ground to make a noise, imitating thunder, which denotes powerfulness—he is fighting an imaginary foe, and when the bride's father and wedding party signify by applause that he has been victorious—that he has killed his adversary in mortal combat—he retires, carrying in his bosom the assurance that he is a Zulu warrior "to the manner born."
From 300 to 400 Zulus attend a wedding, which lasts sometimes several days. Native beer, made from corn, is brought in large quantities in hollow calabashes by the guests. Faction fights, often brought about through uninvited onlookers, but generally from drinking too much beer, frequently prove an exciting feature of a Zulu wedding.
Under no circumstances can a wife leave her husband. A bargain is a bargain with the Zulu. On the other hand, if the bride's merits have been misrepresented, her husband will take her to her father's kraal and demand the return of the cattle he paid for her. Though the girl gets the cattle in name, the father really has the cows.
When a husband dies, his wives are not left alone in the world. It is a Zulu custom that a brother of the deceased look after the widows. It may seem an imposition on a brother to be saddled with two large families—his own and his dead brother's—yet, bearing in mind that the widows, collectively, are mothers of half a dozen to fifteen daughters, it means that the guardian would fall heir to a nice herd of cows when the girls reach womanhood. Zulu families, however, are not large, averaging about five children.
A Zulu's standing with his people is based on the number of wives he has. One with six to nine helpmates is considered in good circumstances. In a general sense, the wives get along agreeably when they number from two to six. The first wife is mistress of those who come after her. Under the king's ruling, putting to death a favorite wife by the others occurred from time to time; but in such instances the wives numbered eight to twelve. Murders of this character have become of rare occurrence, however, since Zululand has been governed by the white man.
Wives and children are of little or no expense to a husband. He does not work after he has become the possessor of several wives, and the corn is planted, hoed, husked and ground into mealy meal by the wives. None of them wear shoes, nor hats, nor coats. Cotton blankets, which cost from 25 to 35 cents, are their chief covering. No money is required for baby carriages, as, when they are not snugly dished in a blanket on the mother's back, with the ends tied in front across her chest, they are seen creeping about the kraalyard. A visit to the country districts will find native women hoeing or working at something else with their babes tied to their back. Their husbands are in their huts, smoking pipes or sleeping. Zulu women look as strong as the men. Save for their babes, all burdens are borne on their heads. This mode of bearing weight is often carried to the ridiculous. A spool of thread, a tomato, a tincup or similar light article may be seen balanced on a woman's head. But she will carry in the same way, with as apparent ease, though, a 100-pound bag of cornmeal, a five gallon tin of water, a big three-legged iron kettle, and other weights that would tax the strength of a strong man. The Zulu woman's superior physique is accounted for, to a large degree, by the bearing of burdens on her head from early childhood.
A Zulu woman "dressed up" is a striking figure. An ocher-colored cone of hair rises from her head sometimes as high as 10 inches. One unfamiliar with the native's hair, as seen resting flat on the head, would never imagine the kinky mop, when straightened, would measure from 12 to 18 inches, but it will. The natural color of the hair, of course, is black, and its unnatural color is brought about by the application of a thin, red-mud solution. Grass stalks, placed inside, form a frame, which keeps the cone from settling. At the bottom, a band, generally a strip of hide, keeps the "ornament" firm. A long hat pin, whittled thin from a large bone of a beast, also plays a part in keeping the "stove-pipe" properly poised. Her face is broad and rather masculine, the expression stoical. No head covering is worn, and weights are borne on women's heads, cone or no cone. Her broad, strong shoulders are generally bare, and she always stands straight. Strings are fastened around her neck—sometimes these are hairs from an elephant's tail—to which are attached square pieces of cloth, with colored beads fastened on them, resembling dominos. Generally wire bangles are worn on one arm, these in some instances being so numerous that they cover the arm from wrist to elbow. Often the skin of a calf or a sheep or that of a wild beast is wrapped around her chest, passing under her arms, and fastened at the back. This "waist" extends in front to about the knees, and sometimes it is ornamented with beads, pebbles or small seashells. A short skirt of rough cloth extends to just below the knees, so that her legs from that point are bare, as precious few native women wear shoes. They have none. Only married women, or women engaged to be married, appear in the cone-shaped hair fashion.
Polygamy is conducive to thrift as well as to laziness. Nowadays few cattle are left to sons by fathers, as tick fever has almost bared the country of this means of food and barter. So, in order to get a wife, a Zulu must earn money with which to buy cows. The umfaan will save half of his wages of $2.50 or $3 a month that he receives as houseboy. When he has saved enough to buy a cow—they can be had for $15—it is put to graze close to his father's kraal, and he will save enough money to buy another cow or two. In the meantime calves are grazing, and by the time he has reached 21 years of age he generally has enough cows to buy one wife. Numbers of young men go to the Kimberley and Transvaal mines, where the wages run from $15 to $30 a month, with board. Unlike the American negro, the Zulu saves his money. But he will not work more than six months in the year at most. It is said a great deal of the Zulu's cash savings is hid in the ground. They are suspicious of the stability of banks, so keep the money where they can see it when they wish to.
The native of South Africa is as independent of the white man's aid to-day as he was a thousand years ago. His wants being so few, and his food easily obtained, he is not compelled to work for the white man. He is not ambitious for riches.
When a Zulu's hut is built on government ground the tax per year is $3.50, which includes all the land he feels disposed to work. He does not plant all his corn in one field, but has two or three patches growing not far from the kraal. If his hut is built on private land, the landowner charges the native from $5 to $10 a year rent. Land for cultivation, however, is included in the rent of the private landowner. Some of the public men of South Africa entertain the belief that if a heavier government tax were imposed on the native it would force him to work more—smoke him out, as it were. Just think of the snug income some Europeans who have from 100 to 300 huts on their undeveloped land are receiving from natives, as they collect from $5 to $10 for each hut. The native still pays the $3.50 government tax also. While Zulus as a race are honest, few Europeans will do business with them on a credit basis; they must pay cash for what they buy.
Honesty among Zulu house servants is an admirable trait. One might place a bushel of $20 gold pieces in the center of a room, be away from home for months, and on return find the money where it had been left. This applies more to what is termed a "raw kafir." When they have been among white people for a year or two their traits of honesty often slacken. The black man, as a rule, will pick up all the white man's vices, but few of his virtues.
A violation of the Zulu code of honesty was formerly punishable by death, and in some cases is still adhered to. The theft of a horse, cow, sheep, goat, pig or dog brought the death penalty. The moral code is inflexible. If a girl leaves a kraal to go into service in the towns and returns not as good as she was when she left the hut, she is likely to disappear mysteriously. A native guilty of committing a crime with a Zulu woman may be put to death.
Few deformed or crippled members of this tribe are seen. Under the kings' ruling an imperfect child at birth was not permitted to live.
Respect for old age is another excellent trait of the Zulu tribe. Were a mother or father to be living with a son and his wives, the father is "boss" of the kraal; and were the father to die the mother is the head of the kraal. The elder of two persons is respected by the younger. The oldest son has absolute rule over the other children; but, if the father be a chief, the youngest son succeeds him. Indian-like, Zulus walk in single file, and the younger always walks behind the elder. The woman always walks behind the man and carries his belongings. A Zulu woman is never seen alone—always with a child, woman, or girl.
Zulus have their own name for Europeans. A man who wore spectacles would be "four-eyed" in their language; a person with a scar on his face or hands, would be "scar" in the native language; one having a deep voice or light voice—that would be his name with the native. Long hair, short hair, mustache, a smooth face—any mark or peculiarity—Zulus would know him by words pertaining to these.
Natives are not allowed to own or carry firearms or any weapons used by Europeans. The same restriction applies to native police. A knobkerry, a pair of handcuffs and a sjambok (a strip of rhinoceros hide like a short whip) are the only weapons a native policeman is supplied with. The policy is a wise one, for, if the blacks knew how to use firearms, it would mean a constant menace to the whites. Zulus often carry their assegais with them in their country, and are allowed to carry sticks at all times, as a dog will attack a black, and the same dog would not even growl at a white man; besides, deadly snakes are numerous.
The Zulu system of "telegraphing" news from one part of the country to another is an interesting accomplishment. Results of battles and approaching danger are shouted from hilltop to hilltop for hundreds of miles with surprising speed and accuracy. In crises Zulus seem to rise out of the ground.
Sugar, salt, kerosene, cotton blankets, tobacco, snuff, lanterns, Jew's-harps, concertinas, mouth organs, beads, cheap spangles, bright calicoes, whistles, and numerous other things of a tawdry character are what Zulus spend their money on. Six cents is the cheapest purchase he can make, as the three-penny piece is the smallest coin in circulation. They will haggle and haggle with a trader sometimes for half an hour over a six-cent purchase, if the trader will listen to them.
"Bonsella" is a word one will often hear if he has dealings with the Zulu. "Bonsella" means he wants something that does not belong to him. With a six-cent purchase he will insist on a "bonsella." A thin slice of a small bar of soap, a few grains of sugar, a little pinch of salt, a piece of string will do, if he cannot do better; and should he fail in getting something from the trader he will ask for a drink of water.
With similar weapons, and each equally skilled in their use, and even numbers, one is pretty safe in making the statement that no man can fight better nor for a longer period than the Zulu. Their military uniform used to be cow-tails secured to a ring around the neck. The tails were so thick they presented the appearance of a complete robe or skin. The Zulu can store enough food away at one meal to last him for 24 to 36 hours without becoming fatigued. He can run from 50 to 70 miles without stopping. Coupled with these staying qualities, it was the custom with some of the Zulu kings to kill all soldiers who returned defeated in battle. That left but two courses open to him—death or victory.
The Zulu has but a poor and varied quality of religion. Some select the sun as their guiding light, others a white bird, again hawks will appeal to him as being worthy to look up to. Unlike the Mohammedan, his knees are not calloused from kneeling to gods of any sort.
Missionaries claim to have 200,000 followers of the Christian religion, which is nearly one-quarter of the Zulu population—one million. People who live in black countries place little credit to the native for having adopted the European faith. In fact, there is a prejudice against the mission native. If a man in South Africa were in need of two "boys," and two mission "boys" and two kraal "boys" had appeared for work at the same time, he would at once select the kraal "boys." When a native begins to wear shoes and a European hat, his usefulness as an employee generally proves of doubtful quantity. When he embraces the Christian religion he is limited to but one wife. That does not absolve him, however, from coming forward with the cows for his bride.
Zululand, and South Africa generally, is well looked after by European mounted police. The duty of the mounted police is to see that firearms do not find their way to the native; that whisky is not smuggled over the border; to learn if discontent exists that might turn into a revolution. The native police, unmounted, arrests natives for minor offenses, and tries to find out from his brother violations of the law that the white man could not know other than through his minion.
"Ba, ba" (father), is a native salute to a European. A bow always accompanies the words. It is customary to return the native's recognition, although some Europeans will not go to the trifling trouble to do so, which is discourteous, to say the least.
Should one be benighted, a European does not think twice as to whether he will go to a native's hut and sleep on the floor with the family. In so doing he will be offered every hospitality.
Deadly, poisonous snakes are so numerous in this section that settlers carry with them a snakebite outfit. This consists of a strong cord, a syringe containing a poison antidote, and a small lance attached. In Zululand and Natal a rattle-snake is considered almost harmless. The puff adder, that coils itself in a pathway and is very sluggish, bites one by a backward spring. His fangs grow that way. He cannot bite after one has passed him. Death shortly ensues from the bite of this reptile if not attended to at once.
A person will die in 20 to 30 minutes after being bitten by a mamba. There are two kinds of this deadly snake—the green and black—but no difference in the quality of poison they inject into their victim. Death from a mamba's bite is said to be an awful one. Sometimes the bitten person's head will burst and appear as a pumpkin would look when thrown with force on a stone. This will account for the settlers carrying the snakebite outfit. The cord is used to wrap around the member bitten above where the fangs entered, to keep the poison from getting further into the system; the lance is used to cut out a piece of flesh where bitten, and the syringe is used to inject the antidote accurately at the raw part of the member where the fangs stopped. This precautionary measure must be gone through within a couple of minutes or one will fall a victim to the mamba's fangs. The snakes grow in length from three to four feet.
"Wood and iron" houses—corrugated iron mostly—is the style of European homes seen in Zululand. This also will apply quite generally to the country districts of South Africa. A half dozen of these, one story high—a postoffice, three general stores, a court house and a hotel—are the buildings about which the commercial life of Melmoth centers. A church building is generally numbered among these groups, and always a graveyard out of proportion. Many of the hotels of Zululand are built somewhat on the kraal plan. The dining and sitting rooms—sometimes one room answers both purposes—are in a one-story "wood and iron" building. Many of the bedrooms—small houses resting on posts a foot to eighteen inches from the ground—are located a short distance from the main building, which they sometimes half-encircle. Each house, by partitioning, contains several small bedrooms. The beds with which these rooms are furnished are generally half-size iron ones, and the light provided is often a candle.
"Keep to the native trail until you come to that clump of wattle trees," directed the driver of the post cart when ten miles from Melmoth on my return to Ginginhlovu. A printer who had got tired of the smell of printers' ink moved to Zululand to make his living in the dual capacity of farmer and trader. So, with a grip in my hand, I started over the Zulu trail to the clump of trees in the distance. I had not gone far when I heard a shout, but could not tell whence it came. It may be the natives telegraphing the start of an uprising, I mused. "Halloa!" was again heard, and, looking in another direction, a wide-brimmed hat was looming over the arch of a grassy hill. It was the printer. The post cart driver had "set me down," as a Britisher would say, at the wrong trail.
"The natives wouldn't sell me any chickens when I first came here, so I wouldn't sell them any goods unless they paid for them with chickens," was one of the difficulties the printer-trader recounted in his effort to hew his way in Zululand.
"Sarah," addressing his wife, "come with us this afternoon while we visit the natives' huts, as you can speak the language better than I," obligingly suggested the sturdy trader, who had beaten freight trains over the United States, sailed before the mast, and had tramped the desert of West Australia to the gold mines at Coolgardie.
Through the trader's wife we chatted with the Zulu women hoeing corn, with their pickaninnies on their backs. Later we squeezed through the small entrances into hut after hut. The lady of the Zulu home explained how the natives winnowed the mealy meal by blowing the dust or bran from it with their breath when passing from the hands, to lodge in a wooden bowl under; how they stirred the meal; explained their scanty washing outfit, how the wives got along together, and other interesting features of Zulu life. After spending several interesting days at the printer-trader's home, it was time to say good-by; and I left with a keen feeling of indebtedness for the unstinted hospitality and kindness shown me.
"I've kept my word—I've got the eggs!" remarked Graham when we had pulled up at his place for luncheon on the return trip.
With pages left unwritten of the Zulu, the strongest, most intelligent and best built tribe of the Bantu race, we will leave the sailor's place for Eshowe, take the post cart to Ginginhlovu, and return by rail to Durban.