Hardly less remarkable was their skill in pottery, an art rapidly becoming lost since the introduction of European wares. Vessels containing from half a pint to fifty gallons were constructed by them of earthenware, some of which were highly ornamented, and were almost as perfect in form as if they had been turned on a wheel. Though they were frequently not more than an eighth of an inch in thickness, so finely tempered were they that the most intense [[27]]heat did not damage them. These vessels were used as beer pots, grain jars, and cooking utensils.
In the manufacture of wooden articles, such as spoons, bowls, fighting sticks, pipes (since the introduction of tobacco), rests for the head when sleeping, etc., they display great skill and no little taste. Each article is made of a single block of wood, requiring much time and patience to complete it, and upon it is frequently carved some neat but simple pattern.
Baskets for holding grain, rush mats, bags, and drinking vessels made of grass are among the products of their labour. Rush bags are made so carefully and strongly that they are used to hold water or any other liquid.
Skins for clothing are prepared by rubbing them for a length of time with grease, by which means they are made nearly as soft and pliable as cloth.
Ingenious as they are, the men are far from being industrious. A great portion of their time is spent in visiting and gossip, of which they are exceedingly fond. They are perfect masters of that kind of argument which consists in parrying a question by means of putting [[28]]another. They are not strict observers of truth, and, though not pilferers, they are addicted to cattle lifting. According to their ideas, stealing cattle is not a crime; it is a civil offence, and a thief when detected is compelled to make ample restitution; but no disgrace attaches to it, and they have no religious scruples concerning it.
Such, in brief, are the Kaffirs, the people among whom the following stories are current. [[29]]
STORY OF THE BIRD THAT MADE MILK. I.
There was once upon a time a poor man living with his wife in a certain village. They had three children, two boys and a girl. They used to get milk from a tree. That milk of the tree was got by squeezing. It was not nice as that of a cow, and the people that drank it were always thin. For this reason, those people were never glossy like those who are fat.
One day the woman went to cultivate a garden. She began by cutting the grass with a pick, and then putting it in a big heap. That was the work of the first day, and when the sun was just about to set she went home. When she left, there came a bird to that place, and sang this song: [[30]]