Having now begun to have some weight and influence among the whole of the tribes, and having taught the people to look up to me rather than to their own chiefs, I had next to re-establish the power of the chiefs as derived from myself. I therefore, with the sanction of the Governor, resolved on a great meeting on the 7th January of all the chiefs, their relatives, councillors, rain-makers, and as many as chose to attend. I had previously prepared English clothes for Macomo, Tyalie, Umhala, and some others, with a medal, which was to be the emblem of their magisterial power. Some thousands assembled in a most orderly and obedient manner. I had taken very good care to strengthen my force at headquarters, for I made it an axiom never to place myself in such a situation with these volatile savages as not to be able to enforce obedience to my commands like lightning.

I gave them a sort of epitome of their own history, especially of the Kafir wars. I dwelt particularly on their cruelty and treachery in the late war, and reminded them that they had voluntarily proposed to become British subjects. I then administered the oath of allegiance to all the chiefs in the name of their respective peoples. Two councillors from Kreili (the new Hintza and Great Father) whom I had invited to the meeting, proposed that they should take the oath of allegiance too, which of course I could not accept, all the inhabitants beyond the Kei being independent. It is a curious fact that after this meeting had been held, and the messengers from Kreili had disseminated throughout the tribe the improved state of things under my rule, Kreili himself and many of his influential men were most anxious to become British subjects, and I received many deputations to that effect.

To return, however, to my meeting. I described the duties of the magistrates, British and native, and the necessity of the people’s obedience, and declared that, while no one should be “eaten up”[115] or any way punished except for robbery, etc., I should oblige them to be obedient to the laws and the jurisdiction of their respective magistrates.[116]

After this meeting, my system began to work with the greatest facility, and the rain-makers, who had most scrupulously kept aloof from me, began to pay me visits, particularly the chief of that department of deceit. I received these first visitors with great ease and ceremony of reception, made them all presents, and dismissed them without any discussion of their power and respectability. At the great meeting I had prohibited every branch of witchcraft, so that the rain-makers, being fully aware that the axe was laid to the root of their power, thought it as well to worship the rising sun and court me. Knowing that the presents would bring back the great rain-maker, and induce the little rain-makers to come to me, I was prepared, on the visit of the great one, to prove to him the fallacy and deceit by which he led the people to believe that he possessed a power which he knew he did not.

One day when the great rain-maker was in my camp, and many others, as well as an unusually large number of Kafirs, I assembled them all for the avowed purpose of hearing a disputation between the “Great Chief” or “Father,” as they invariably called me, and the rain-makers. My first question to them was, “So you can make rain, can you?” I never saw in men’s countenances more caution. I said, “Speak out, speak freely to your Father.” The great rain-maker said he could. I then showed him one by one all the articles on my writing-table, knives, scissors, etc., my clothes, my hat, boots, etc., etc., asking, “Can you make this?” “No.” “Do you know how it is made?” “No.” Having explained everything and how it was made through the medium of my invaluable interpreter, Mr. Shepstone, I then called for a tumbler of water. I showed all the people the water, and asked the rain-makers if what was in the glass was of the same quality as the water or rain they invoked. All agreed “Yes.” Their anxiety was intense. I then threw down the water on the dry ground, which immediately absorbed it, and desired the rain-makers to put it again in the tumbler. They were aghast, and said, “We cannot.” In a voice of thunder, I said, “Put the rain again in this glass, I say.” I then turned to the spectators. “Now you see how these impostors have deceived you. Now listen to the ‘Word.’” (This is the phrase they use in giving orders and decisions on all points of law and in trials.) I took my wand of office, planted it violently before me, and said, “Any man of my children hereafter who believes in witchcraft, or that any but God the Great Spirit can make rain, I will ‘eat him up.’” I then left the meeting and the rain-makers thunderstruck and confounded.

On principle, however, I never directly contradicted or prohibited their customs, or left them without hope or a friend; so in about two hours I sent for the great rain-maker and two or three others,—clever, acute fellows all, and I said, “Your Father has now proved to the people that you are impostors, but as you have been taught to fancy that you possess a power you have not, I must provide another and an honest livelihood for you, and I shall expect you to assist me in administering the new and true laws.” I then made each presents, giving them so many bullocks apiece—a stock-in-trade. These fellows were many of them of great use to me afterwards. By the line of conduct I had pursued, I had carried them with me instead of rendering them my secret and bitter enemies.

In Umhala’s tribe, I heard of an awful case of his “eating up” a man for witchcraft, and afterwards cruelly burning him with red-hot stones. The poor wretch, so soon as he could move, came to me and showed me the cicatrized wounds all over his body—how he had lived was a wonder. I kept him closely concealed. I sent for Umhala and his English magistrate and council to come to me immediately. This Umhala was a man of superior intellect, and the only one who could judge cause and effect, and future results. He never quailed in the slightest, as all others did, under my most violent animadversions. He gave me more trouble to render obedient than all the other chiefs. Still, he respected me, and I him; and he afterwards showed more real and permanent affection for me than the others.

Upon his arrival, he did all in his power to find out what I wanted him for, and he apprehended the real cause. So soon as he and all his people were assembled in my courthouse, I went in with my wand behind, borne by my great councillor Ganya. Umhala then saw something was coming. I came to the point at once, as was my custom. “Umhala, did I not give the word—no more witchcraft?” He boldly answered, “You did.” “Then how dare you, Umhala, one of my magistrates sworn to be obedient to my law, infringe the Word?” He stoutly denied it. I then brought in the poor afflicted sufferer, and roared out, “Umhala, devil, liar, villain, you dare to deceive me. Deny now what I accuse you of.” He then confessed all, and began to palliate his conduct. To this I would not listen, but seized my wand to give the Word. “Hear you, Umhala! you have eaten a man up. Give back every head of his cattle, and ten head of your own for having eaten him up. And you forfeit ten head more to me, the Great Chief, for my government.” He was perfectly unmoved, but I saw that he intended to do no such thing. I then deprived him of his medal of office, and said, “Now go and obey my orders,” and I desired the English magistrate to report in two days that he had done so. He had 30 miles to return to his kraal.

According to my custom, I sent the “news” all over Kafirland immediately. I sent out a Court Circular daily. I had no secrets. This they much admired. There never were such newsmongers. Their greeting is “Indaba” (“the news”). The mode adopted to give the news was by so many messengers running out at night-time in different directions, waving their cloaks or karosses. The whole country is strongly undulating, and there are always a number of fellows on the look-out. My messenger called out the news. Others took it up, and so it passed from hill to hill by a sort of telegraph; and every day I could communicate information throughout the whole province in a few hours. This open procedure was of vast importance.