It was almost pathetic to see how these dusky belles bore up under his inspection. Each looked appealingly at Sebuza, much after the fashion of a dog that hopes to be petted, and almost quivered with the hope that she would be selected. The thought came to me that the rejected ones must face a hard life when they were brought back to their home kraals.
Sebuza chose five of the girls, and they were straightway sent to his kraal. The rejected ones were immediately clothed and their owners took them away. Later in the day Lochien told me that all the girls selected by Sebuza were exceptionally high caste and that between forty and fifty cows had been paid for each.
My companions were sadly disappointed over Sebuza's wholesale marriage. They had expected a wild ceremony and much savage celebration, but I explained to them that the Swazis did not go in for that sort of thing. There are no marriage ceremonies whatever—the man pays for his wife and she belongs to him from that hour until he dies. He may accumulate other wives, and this custom is so old that all the wives live together in peace, such a thing as jealousy of the white kind being unknown. From what I have seen of the toilsome lives of these wives, it would seem to me that their contentment is based on the old saw which sagely observes that "misery loves company." Another advantage of plural wives is that each additional wife lessens the labors of the others.
Although there are no marriage rites beyond payment for the wife, there are very strict customs in regard to widows. If the deceased husband is an induna of importance or a connection of the royal family, it is customary for the king to take his pick of the widows. If, however, he has no interest in them, the nearest male relation who can afford to keep them inherits as many as he wishes. Of course, when a husband dies all his wives shave their heads in token of mourning. As they have trained their hair to grow in a sort of pyramid, the hair is shaved clean up to this structure. Daughters of the dead man have their hair shaved right off; if they are already wives, this does not apply, since the claim of the husband is greater than that of any other relative.
We did not pay our usual visit to Tzaneen the day Sebuza married his first installment of wives. Instead, Tuys and I remained in camp planning some way to accomplish our mission and my companions made good their threat to learn something first-hand about Swazi life.
Next morning trouble of another kind occurred. A government messenger arrived with a communication for me. He had located me at Zombode, where they told him that I had gone on to Lebombo. This messenger was a Swazi induna with six warriors, and he carried himself with a good deal of swank. Evidently he was impressed with his importance. I know he snubbed Sibijaan, and my boy was breathing fire when he came to announce this arrival.
The messenger waited for me in front of the tent, with his warriors drawn up behind him. It was quite a military turnout, and he saluted me with gravity and impressiveness. Across one shoulder he had a small despatch-case on which were the arms of Great Britain in well-polished brass. From this he took an official looking envelope and handed it to me with a flourish.
It was a communication from His Majesty's High Commissioner for Swaziland, and it "begged most respectfully to call to your attention" the fact that I had passed through Mbabane without acquainting the government officials with the details of my expedition into British territory. At once I realized my mistake, and could have kicked myself for not calling on the Commissioner and telling him about my project. I knew how these British officials work. First they are punctiliously polite and request information. If they do not get it speedily, they remain polite but make certain definite demands. If still unsatisfied, they become annoyed in a polite manner and take "proper measures." These latter oftentimes consist of a "flying column," which makes it decidedly uncomfortable for the object of their well-bred attentions.
I read the missive from the Commissioner and for a moment intended replying to it. Then I realized that any reply would seem impolite and possibly evasive, so I decided to make a quick trip to Mbabane and make the laggard call on the Honorable Mr. Honey. I gave directions that the messenger and his men should be fed, and then had Sibijaan inspan the six mules and prepare the wagonette for the trip.
Oom Tuys was missing and I suspected that he had gone to the royal kraal. I went over there and found him sitting with Lochien outside the royal hut. The queen was asleep inside and several of her maids were busily engaged in hairdressing, a most important function among high class Swazi women.