It was beyond human nature to keep a serious face after that. We all burst out laughing together. Then I told him that it was only my hair.
“Ngimdala!” (I am old) said the king (meaning in wisdom); and I was asked to go round for fuller inspection. The king noticed my hands. He said: “Her hands have a different colour to her face! Come nearer again, let me have a look at your hands.” I obeyed. He took my hand and felt it all over. “Mamo!” (oh! mother) “the skin moves. It is quite loose, and look how red it is.” I had a pair of scarlet silk gloves on. I pulled one off, an incident which caused a prodigious sensation in the royal hut. Exclamations of surprise were heard all round. “White girls are double skinned,” said one, “on their hands.” “They have a white skin to suit their face, and this is covered by a loose, dark red skin,” said the king. “Behold the artfulness of the white beings that come out of the sea.” The glove was carefully examined, and one man, with fear and trembling, picked it up with the tips of his fingers, but speedily dropped it again in horror and dismay. My father then explained to them as best he could that ladies wore gloves to protect their hands from getting sunburnt, and we took leave of the mighty king.
Outside the door we were met by a number of his royal daughters, all wanting to have a look at the girl from under the sea and her wonderful hair and hands. When they had satisfied their curiosity, they asked us to come and call on Giba, King Mpande’s celebrated snake charmer. He was sitting in his hut training his numerous snakes to go and come in to and out of their holes as he wanted them.
A great monster of a python was coiled round a stone in a corner, lazily watching his inferiors at their drill, and waiting his turn. “Ngqabitani” (the snake’s name, which means “hop down”), called out Giba, and the monster made a move and came with a twist and a roll, and was rewarded by a fowl to eat. It was a horrible performance.
The tendency which the Zulu has, in common with all savage or half-civilized people, to ascribe anything unusual to magic, and to account for the unknown by fanciful analogy (the basis, indeed, of most of the vulgar superstitions), was curiously illustrated in this journey by a chief whom we met and to whom my father gave a small mirror. The Zulu looked into it, gave a start, and dropped it to the ground. “Why, it is myself; I know, for I have seen a reflection of myself in a clear pool. These people carry mysterious things with them.” He picked it up gingerly, and handed it to his chief man, who, after examining it with the caution that a detective might display in opening a parcel supposed to contain dynamite, handed it round to the attendants, each of whom made a study of the “ego” and the “non ego” in the wonderful “charm,” which they took to their home and sealed up in an earthen pot.
Such are some of the curious ideas which were entertained by the Zulus as to the white man in the old days. Since that time increased intercourse with the white creatures from under the sea has dissipated some of their old delusions, but even to this day a large number of the natives look upon the white man as something weird, as a being who can do anything, and who has about him a touch of the mysterious, if not of the supernatural. Fortunately for us these ideas have never taken a very serious hold on the native mind. They look upon us as strange curiosities, but do not seriously associate our doings with the “black arts,” ready as they are to attribute dealings with forbidden agencies to their own people. It would have gone hard with us in the early days if any influential chief had conceived the idea, so readily seized by the Chinese, of designating all Europeans “foreign devils”—“Takati” (wizards)—with unknown powers and malignant designs. Our just and large-minded treatment of them has prevented the spread of any such notions amongst them. Their mental attitude towards us at the present day is one of bewildered simplicity, not unmingled with respect, and, when their confidence is obtained, with something of the loyal affection they have long been accustomed to entertain towards their own chiefs and superiors.
KING MPANDE’S SNAKE CHARMER.
During King Mpande’s reign there lived in his chief kraal a most noted and wonderful snake-charmer, who was spoken of far and wide with great awe. He was looked upon as one who was in constant communication with the spirits, as all snakes obeyed him. He was tall and slim, with a withered right arm and a crooked forefinger. It was quite an easy task for him to catch snakes in bushes, and he could even draw them out of their holes with his crooked finger. He said he had certain kinds of medicines which he always took, and also injected into his right arm and finger before setting out snake-catching in the mornings, and these prevented snake bites having any effect on him—in fact, he felt quite safe anywhere. He would sometimes take long journeys in search of various kinds of snakes, and on his return would call on people living near the roadside that he might exhibit them. He generally took two or three boys with him to carry them, and they had special bags made for them of water-broom rushes. I shall never forget the day when the snake-charmer called at our house and asked whether we should like to see two big snakes he had caught that day. At first we felt rather scared, although, at the same time, we were curious to see them, for we had heard a great deal about this snake-charmer. So we allowed him to get them out and show us what he could do with them. He ordered the boys to open the bags, then gave two or three whistles, and the snakes came crawling out very slowly and carefully. He then drew a winding mark on the ground with his rod, which they most obediently followed, hissing and sticking out their tongues now and then, and looking about to see which way they were to go next, and he said that this was all he had been able to teach them that morning. He put down his rod a moment, then one of the snakes made for the kitchen door, where three native girls were standing, and it went part of the way in before he could stop it. The girls were half mad with fright; one climbed on the table, another on the shelf, and the third went up the chimney: there was a terrible scrimmage. But the man soon made the snake go into the bag again. I then thought I would have some fun, so I went into my room to fetch a big toy snake which I kept in the window to prevent the natives from standing about there and using it as a mirror. When I brought it out, moving and wriggling about in my hand, the charmer took to flight. It was an ugly green and yellow thing, with open red mouth. The man said his medicines would be no preventive against a bite from this strange kind of snake, of which he knew nothing. But when I told him it was only a toy, he had a good laugh over his fright. Soon after his return to his hut at the king’s kraal we heard that some gentlemen had gone up to pay him a visit and to ask him to let them see his snakes. When he went away his hut would be quite safe, for the snakes were always on the look out for strangers. The gentlemen thought it prudent to keep at a good distance until the owner of the hut and snakes appeared. After the usual greetings and introductions had been gone through, the man said, “I hear you would like to see my pets; how much will you pay me for it?” They answered that they were travellers, and had not much with them, but that they would give him a blanket each. So he made them go into a corner of his hut and sit down on a mat. Presently he called out “Ngqabitani”! (his chief snake), and it came out with a majestic twist of satisfaction. Then he whistled for another, grunted for another, groaned for a third, hissed for a fourth, and then rattled for the whole lot. They came out by the dozen; the visitors found themselves surrounded by snakes of all sorts and sizes, the great python wriggling and twisting impatiently, with a look as much as to say, “I could swallow the whole of you if only my master would allow me.” The man sat coolly at the door of his hut enjoying the fun. The gentlemen called out, “Enough! enough! we have seen your pets; do for pity’s sake call them back!” The man said, “How much will you give me?” The answer was, “Ten blankets each—anything you like—all we possess; only clear off your pets and let us out of this trap.” He answered, “You shall have your wish my good friends,” and then made the usual noises, when they all promptly returned to their holes. The gentlemen heaved a sigh of relief, paid the man, but never will they ask to see his pets again. They were quite satisfied.