There was not much harm in Tuys, but he was Boer enough to enjoy worrying the British and the fact that he was not wanted in Swaziland made his sojourns there all the more enjoyable.
Next day we visited Tzaneen, and I found that she was much interested in my sudden trip to Mbabane. Her indunas had told her that I had received a summons to visit the Commissioner and she was curious to know all about it. I told her why Mr. Honey wanted to know about me and then repeated his advice.
"Yes, Mzaan Bakoor, I know all about the government opposition to my son becoming king," she said. "He has so many followers that they are afraid of him. The British fear Sebuza because they would sooner have a weak old woman like Labotsibeni in Swaziland than a strong man and a son of Buno."
"How many followers has Sebuza, Nkosikaas?" I asked, for this was part of what I was thinking.
"Mzaan Bakoor, you of great magic, can you count the blades of grass in the field?" she replied.
Then she assured me that all Swaziland was behind the young prince. She further told me that this was the chief reason why Sebuza was disliked by the government and added that he had been impudent to some British officials. I had heard rumors of this, but had placed small weight in them. Now, it seemed, Sebuza must have over overstepped the mark and no reconciliation was possible for some time. This, added to what I had heard in Mbabane, made me despair of accomplishing the object for which I had come to Lebombo. There was more talk along the same line and we treated the queen to a bottle of gin. This led to a peculiar incident.
That night Sebuza came to our camp and asked to see me. I thought he might have something of importance to communicate, but all he asked was that I stop giving gin to his mother! This, of course, was impossible. She was in authority until he became king and her request for liquor was a command we dared not disobey.
Sugden had spent the afternoon with L'Tunga and had watched the witch-doctors smoke dagga weed. I had forgotten to tell him about this and he was much excited over the discovery. With his faculty for observation, he had made a serious study of how the Swazi uses the weed and was much interested in its effects.
"L'Tunga took me to his witch-doctors' school," he told me, "and I watched them smoke dagga. It is a small leaf that must be something like tea before it is dried. Believe me, it has a 'kick.' There were about twenty of these witch-doctors sitting in a circle in their kraal, all hitting the pipe. They have a crazy way of smoking it, too. You've seen the pipe, haven't you? It's a great long thing, very badly made, and it takes a strong man to make it draw.
"The way they smoke is this. The first man takes a calabash of water and then drops a coal into the pipe, thus lighting it. He next sucks on the pipe until he gets his mouth full of smoke. Then he attempts to fill his mouth with water, all the while trying to prevent any of the smoke from escaping. When he can no longer hold the smoke and water in his mouth, he blows them out together. It is a sort of smoky shower-bath!