Chapter Eleven.
The Fate of the Wizard—Skin Dressing—The New Wife.
Leaving the witch-doctor to pursue his way and find the charm, I will return to the poor, wretched victim.
The “boys,” armed with the knob-kerries, had seized him, trembling but silent, in their grasp; while a decided expression of relief broke over the features of the rest. They, at any rate, were safe. Yet the accused must have been a friend of many there; but, strange to say, none spoke in his favour: on the contrary, all appeared even fearful to come in contact with him, and drew off to a little distance.
The so-called wizard was now interrogated, and commanded to produce the charm with which, by the aid of spells, he had brought the present illness upon Anzutu. In vain the poor fellow declared his innocence, protesting his loyalty to his chief and all belonging to him. It made little difference. The question was reiterated, till he exclaimed, “I have no charm—it is no use asking—I must die.”
It was at this moment that the witch-doctor returned, performing many eccentric bounds of triumph, and holding in his hand a little tuft of fur and a string of beads, which the chief Metilulu instantly declared to have belonged to his wife. This, as may be conceived, sealed the fate of the poor fellow whom they had so soon created into a wizard. He was immediately seized by his tormentors, who, flinging him upon the ground, began piercing the quivering body in every part with Kaffir needles. I put Kaffir; for when I say that they more resemble a skewer than the pretty little articles which look so well in our countrywomen’s fingers, the awful pain they inflict may be imagined.
I grew sick in watching these brutes, and, but for very fear, could have shrieked in compassion; though scarcely a groan escaped the victim. An European, I am sure, must have fainted over and over again under the torture; but the Kaffir never once lost consciousness; and in this case, as in many others I witnessed, I was perfectly assured that, whether from their hardy mode of life and healthy constitution, or from whatever other cause, these savage people are not so sensitive to pain as are the inhabitants of civilised countries.
While some five or six had been probing the miserable man’s body till their hands were tired, others had been kindling a fire, where they were heating several large stones. When these were thoroughly heated, the wizard was borne near, fastened firmly down, and—I shiver as I recall it—the red-hot stones were placed upon the quivering flesh, which cracked and shrivelled under the weight and heat.