Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs

by E. W. Phillips

In conclusion, I begged him not to regard me as an enemy, assuring him if he were ever to visit my land that he would be treated as the great man he was; therefore though only a poor sailor, I hoped he would not hold me as a prisoner, but let me learn the habits and manners of his people, in which I took much interest.

I put this half authoritatively as became a native of the great country I had been describing, and half with suitable reverence for the mightiness of him I was addressing.

For some little while he talked with his councillors, and by the constant repetition of the word “Molonga,” which I had discovered to mean “white man,” I knew it was about myself. Then through the interpreter, he again addressed me, his speech signifying that lately they had been much troubled by attacks upon their cattle by the Boers, and had at first taken me for a spy of theirs; but if my words were true I should be at liberty to go where I liked about the kraal, during his chiefship’s pleasure, and that all they could show me they would; yet should I prove an enemy a thousand assagais should pierce my body through and through. He ended with a request to know if I had saved anything from the wreck.

I answered I had nothing but the few rags of clothes that covered me, whereupon I saw his little bead-like eyes fasten on my shirt front with a most unmistakeable expression. Glancing down in the same direction, I perceived it was the large pearl buttons which had attracted his notice; and having heard something of the cupidity of these tribes for such articles, I instantly plucked them off—no difficult matter—and with those at the wrists, presented them to him, saying I had nothing worthy his acceptance, nor to show the great gratitude I felt for his kind behaviour to me, than those.

With a pleased smile he took them, evidently much delighted, then plucking a string or fibre from some part of his dress, he strung the buttons upon it and suspended them round his neck. So proud was the little chief of this new ornament, that I am sure he held his head an inch higher for a good while after.

Then the interview broke up, and I returned to the “boys’” hut to partake of some of the game caught the evening before, now rather high. I was attended by the interpreter by Metilulu’s express orders, and he informed me that an elephant hunt was to take place that afternoon, they having tracked a splendid one, at which the chief had given permission for me to attend if I chose. It may be imagined that I did choose. Indeed, I was beginning to feel very anxious about my two companions; my position was looking brighter; and I hoped, if they had not escaped and were now upon some eligible point of land from whence they might signal a passing ship, that I might come across them, and, if they liked, introduce them to Metilulu and Kaffir life.

On entering the hut dinner was ready, to which I was invited, and found the repast no unsavoury one. When it was concluded I strolled out to wait for the hunt to start, too accustomed now to care for the observation I created. During my wandering I came across a rather amusing little scene to an European.

My approach concealed by a hut, it was as I glanced round it to windward that I was a witness of the following custom:—Leaning against the side, my white face concealed by the skull of a cow fixed on the thatch—stay, before going further, let me for a moment digress, and explain why these skulls, to which I have twice referred, are here. I have already remarked upon the great love of the Kaffir for his cows. All his ambition is to possess them; dreadful frays take place because of them; and stealing, or, as the Scotch term it, “cattle lifting,” is very prevalent; yet at some ceremonies, or when vanity, which exists in these uncivilised regions as elsewhere, steps in, the owner of the kine will kill a cow to entertain his friends; but to show that he did once possess, and was rich enough to spare it, he keeps the skull to place upon the thatch of his hut. Thus the residence of a chief, who is rich in cattle, has often several of these—I must say hideous adornments. But to go back to what I saw.

I had observed two Kaffirs advancing, and had drawn back, not anxious to meet them, when abruptly they came to a halt, and with all the gravity imaginable squatted on the ground. I was turning away, thinking I might disturb some private conference, when I perceived—for I was on the watch for everything peculiar—one of the Kaffirs take from his ear a kind of little bottle, and from his issikoko an ivory spoon with a round bowl. This he filled completely with snuff from the bottle, and afterwards passed it to the other, turning his head away, according to Kaffir etiquette, so that he might not appear to watch the quantity taken. His companion—not sufficiently rich, I suppose, to own a spoon—poured some on the palm of his hand, which he worked to a conical shape to fit the nostril, whereupon the two inhaled the luxury without losing a grain; which no sooner had they done than, not to my surprise, considering the enormous heap of the pungent powder they had taken, large tears began to roll down their cheeks. But this was not all. As their eyes overflowed, with their thumb-nails the Kaffirs made a channel down each cheek for the water to have free course to the corners of their mouths, and there they sat in solemn state, enjoying, as they really do, their snuff.

The sight, however, was so ludicrous to my English notions, that I had to beat a rapid retreat, lest by a burst of uncontrollable laughter I might betray my presence. I hurried round the other side of the hut, and came full upon the interpreter, who announced that the hunting party was prepared to start.