In the old days the Zulu chiefs possessed this rain-making gift, which was supposed to be vested in a small round stone called the "rain stone." When Ama-Swazi led the rebellion against the Zulus and broke away from them, he captured this stone and took it with him. Much of his ascendancy was based on its possession.
Umbandine, his son, inherited the stone, and Queen Labotsibeni promptly annexed it on his death. King Buno never owned it, and during his entire reign his mother provided the rain for Swaziland.
Labotsibeni was wise in her way and made the "rain stone" a source of revenue. Now and then dry spells strike Swaziland, and the hot sun burns up the crops and causes much suffering. At such a time the indunas came to the old queen and begged her to make rain. She always went through some incantation before assenting, and then announced her price. It was usually a portion of corn from each kraal, the total amounting to many bushels. When this was paid, she agreed to make rain. It is peculiar that she was often successful and that rain followed shortly after her promise.
If, however, the rain did not come, she would announce that one of her chiefs was plotting against her and that she had surrendered the rule of the weather to the devil so that he might punish her people. On such occasions her wrath was terrible, and this is probably one of the reasons why she was so feared. Tuys told me that Labotsibeni in a rage was a "perfect she-devil" and that even her indunas would run to avoid her. She was a wise old queen; no matter how the weather acted, she had it arranged so that she could not lose!
On the way out of the indunas' burying-ground, the witch-doctor stepped on a snake. We came up to him as he sat waiting for death, the body of the adder beside him with its head crushed. He rocked slowly back and forth, looking straight ahead and making no sound. I wanted to do something for him.
"What's the use, lad?" Tuys said. "There is no cure for the puff-adder's bite, unless you have a drug-shop along. He must die, and die soon, and he knows it. Come on, unless you want to see him go?"
I most certainly did not, so we went along, keeping our eyes on the ground lest we run afoul of a snake. I looked back a moment later and saw that the stricken man had laid down, and then I knew that his suffering would soon be over. None of the other natives seemed to give a second thought to him; under Buno's rule they had grown more callous than ever.
It was almost noon when we reached Buno's kraal, and there was a large gathering of witch-doctors about his hut. The witch-doctors of our burial-party joined them, and Tuys informed me that practically all the witch-doctors in Swaziland were there.
"Now would be a good time for some target practice," he said grimly. "In about five minutes a few quick shots could remove most of the sources of trouble in this country. If those witch-doctors were all killed, Swaziland would be a happier land."
Soon the head witch-doctor—the one who did the butchering so well the night before—detached himself from the group and began to look at the sun. He stood his wand on the ground and studied its shadow. After a time this seemed to satisfy him, and he sent two of the others out of the kraal on the run. Shortly after came the sound of many feet, and soon the royal impi filed into the enclosure. The warriors ranged themselves on either side of the pathway, just as I had so often seen them do before.