(1.) YOUNG KAFFIR IN FULL DRESS.
(See [page 41].)
(2.) GIRL IN DANCING DRESS.
(See [page 53].)
A few years ago, I assisted in opening a series of boxes and barrels full of objects from Kaffirland. We took the precaution of opening the cases in the garden, and, even in the open air, the task of emptying them was almost too much for our unaccustomed senses. All the objects were genuine specimens, not merely made for sale, as is so often the case, but purchased from the wearers, and carefully put away. The owner of the collection was rather humorous on the subject, congratulating us on our preparation for a visit to Kaffirland, and telling us that, if either of us wished to form a good idea of the atmosphere which prevailed in a Kaffir hut with plenty of company, all we had to do was to get into the empty cask, sit at the bottom of it, and put the lid on. Several of the articles of clothing were transferred to my collection, but for some time they could not be introduced into the room. Even after repeated washings, and hanging out in the garden, and drenching with deodorizing fluid, they retained so much of their peculiar scent that they were subjected to another course, which proved more successful,—namely, a thorough washing, then drying, then exposure to a strong heat, and then drying in the open air.
This extremely powerful odor is a considerable drawback to an European hunter when accompanied by Kaffir assistants. They are invaluable as trackers; their eyes seem to possess telescopic powers; their ears are open to sounds which their white companion is quite incapable of perceiving, and their olfactory nerves are sensitive to any odor except that which themselves so powerfully exhale. But the wild animals are even more sensitive to odors than their dusky pursuers, and it is popularly said that an elephant to leeward can smell a Kaffir at the distance of a mile. All are alike in this respect, the king and his meanest subject being imbrued with the same unctuous substance; and the only difference is, that the king can afford more grease, and is therefore likely to be more odoriferous, than his subject.
Yet the Kaffir is by no means an uncleanly person, and in many points is so particularly clean that he looks down with contempt upon an European as an ill-bred man. The very liberal anointing of the person with grease is a custom which would be simply abominable in our climate, and with our mode of dress, but which is almost a necessity in a climate like that of Southern Africa, where the natives expose nearly the whole of their bodies to the burning sunbeams. Even in the more northern parts of Africa the custom prevails, and Englishmen who have resided there for a series of years have found their health much improved by following the example of the natives. In England, for example, nothing could be more absurd than to complete the morning’s toilet by putting on the head a large lump of butter, but in Abyssinia no native of fashion thinks himself fully dressed until he has thus put the finishing touch to his costume. Setting aside the different effects of the sun upon a black skin and a white one, as long as European residents in Southern Africa are able to wear their cool and light garments, so long can they dispense with grease. But, if they were suddenly deprived of their linen or cotton garments, and obliged to clothe themselves after the fashion of the Kaffirs, it is likely that, before many weeks had elapsed, they would be only too glad to resort to a custom which has been taught to the natives by the experience of centuries. Had not the practice of greasing the body been productive of good, their strong common sense would long ago have induced the Kaffirs to dispense with it.
In this, as in all other matters, we must not judge others by supposing them to be under similar conditions with ourselves. Our only hope of arriving at a true and unbiassed judgment is by mentally placing ourselves in the same conditions as those of whom we are treating, and forming our conclusions accordingly. The knowledge of this simple principle is the key to the singular success enjoyed by some schoolmasters, while others, who may far surpass them in mere scholarship, have failed to earn for themselves either the respect or the love of their pupils.
Men, as well as women, generally possess cloaks made of the skins of animals, and called karosses. Almost any animal will serve for the purpose of the kaross maker, who has a method of rendering perfectly supple the most stiff and stubborn of hides. The process of preparing the hide is very simple. The skin is fastened to the ground by a vast number of pegs around its edges, so as to prevent it from shrinking unequally, the hairy side being next to the ground. A leopard skin thus pegged to the ground may be seen by reference to the [illustration] of a Kaffir hut, on page 155. The artist, however, has committed a slight error in the sketch, having drawn the skin as if the hairy side were upward. The Kaffir always pegs a skin with the hairy side downward, partly because the still wet hide would adhere to the ground, and partly because he wishes to be able to manipulate the skin before it is dry. This plan of pegging down the skin is spread over the whole world; and, whether in Europe, Africa, Asia, America, or Australia, the first process of hide dressing is almost exactly the same. The subsequent processes vary greatly in different quarters of the globe, and even in different parts of the same country, as we shall see in subsequent pages.
The frontier Kaffirs, and indeed all those who can have communication with Europeans, have learned the value of blankets, and will mostly wear a good blanket in preference to the best kaross. But to the older warriors, or in those places to which European traders do not penetrate, the skin kaross still retains its value. The ox is the animal that most generally supplies the kaross maker with skin, because it is so large that the native need not take much trouble in sewing. Still, even the smaller animals are in great request for the purpose, and the karosses made from them are, to European eyes, far handsomer than those made from single skins. Of course, the most valued by the natives are those which are made from the skins of the predaceous animals, a kaross made of lion-skin being scarcely ever seen except on the person of sable royalty. The leopard skin is highly valued, and the fortunate and valiant slayer of several leopards is sure to make their skins into a kaross and their tails into an apron, both garments being too precious to be worn except on occasions of ceremony.