Chapter Twelve.
Machenga, the chief Witch Doctor of the Mashona.
It was about mid-afternoon of that same day when, as I sat in the shadow of the wagon tent, pondering upon the possibility of my being able successfully to approach the king upon the question of a concession to mine gold in Mashonaland, Piet informed me that certain men, whom ’Mfuni recognised as messengers from the king, were coming toward the wagon from Gwanda; and some five minutes later they arrived.
There were six of them, and they were laden with goods which I needed not their explanation to assure me were presents from the king. One bore a complete Mashona warrior’s panoply, consisting of plumed headdress, leopard-skin mantle, mucha of leopards’ tails, armlets, anklets, and garters of cows’ tails, a necklace consisting of about forty gold nuggets, bored and strung upon a strip of rimpi, shield, war club, and an immense bangwan, or stabbing spear. This gift was of course to be regarded as a logical sequence and appropriate return for the uniform which I had presented to His Majesty that morning. But there were other gifts as well, and exceedingly valuable ones, too, three of the other messengers being bearers each of a most magnificent kaross, or skin rug, one being made of lions’ skins, one of leopards’ skins, and one—the finest of all—of monkeys’ skins of some species unknown to me, the black fur being extraordinarily long, thick, and glossy. The remaining two men carried, each of them, a leather bag weighing about sixty pounds, one bag containing coarse gold dust, while the other was full of small, rough nuggets of gold. These two men were also the bearers of a message of apology from the king, to the effect that, since I seemed to have a liking for gold, he regretted that he had no more to offer me, but that as gold was of no value in the country, and was not particularly sought after, it was only occasionally that a stray nugget or a handful of dust was found; and that the contents of the bags represented the casual findings of many years.
It was somewhat disappointing to learn that here, in Gwanda, where I had confidently anticipated that gold in practically unlimited quantity might be had almost for the asking, there should be so little; yet the situation was not without its compensations, for if the natives attached so little value to the metal that they would not even take the trouble to hunt for it, there ought to be all the more for me—if I could but coax the king into granting me a concession. So I dissembled my disappointment, handed over the gifts to Piet, with instructions to pack them away in the rear of the wagon, rewarded the messengers who had brought them, and dismissed them, happy in the possession of a few mixed beads.
About half-past ten o’clock that night I was sitting in my wagon, reading by the light of the all but full moon—for, this being the eve of the great annual festival, the town was in an uproar, and the volume of sound emanating from it and from the temporary encampments outside it rendered sleep impossible—when I became aware of a figure muffled in a great kaross in such a manner as to render identification impossible. Apart from this circumstance, however, there was a certain suggestion of furtiveness in the movements of the figure, a something indicative of a desire to avoid observation, that attracted my attention from my book and aroused my curiosity. It seemed to be wandering about aimlessly; but when I had been watching it for some ten minutes I became convinced that, erratic as its movements seemed to be, they were not without method; and that method, I soon saw, was causing the unknown one—a man—to gravitate slowly but surely toward the wagon. So I waited patiently, and a quarter of an hour later he accomplished a masterly movement which brought him within the shadow of the wagon.
“S’a bona muntu,” I remarked quietly. “What is the business that brings you by such a crooked path to my wagon to-night?”
“Au!” ejaculated the mysterious one in some confusion. “Chia’gnosi has good eyes; nothing escapes him; he sees even the little red ticks that hide themselves on the blades of the grass. If his ears are as good as his eyes he will perchance have heard of one named Machenga.”
“I have heard of such an one,” I answered cautiously.
“What have you heard of him?” demanded the unknown.