By Veldt and Kopje

by W. C. Scully

The councillors deliberated for three days without coming to a decision, and it was then that the principal witch-doctor showed a way out of the condition of dead-lock. In the middle of a wild babel, in which everyone was shouting his opinion as he could, this great man arose to his feet and discarded his kaross. Then he aimed a glance of scathing contempt at the war-doctor, with whom he had been bickering considerably throughout the meeting. A hush at once fell upon the assembly as he spoke—

“O chief and councillors of the Gcaleka nation, we are all agreed that the matter of the python cannot be allowed to rest, but we have been unable to agree as to what action should be taken. Hear, then, my words, and let the chief say if they be not words of wisdom.

“I am, as you all know, not a fighting man; my wars are with the secret evil-doer, so I cannot give an opinion as to your decision to refrain from ‘eating up’ the Bomvana chief. But this thought comes to me: we have all heard the words of the war-doctor. Now, if those words be true, what is the ground for your hesitation? Did he not say that after the warriors had been sprinkled with the boiling root-broth, and had sprung through the magic smoke, they would become so terrible that a hundred of the enemy would flee from one of them? But let that pass. The chief has decided in his sagacity—or, perhaps, owing to your advice—which his father, the great Hintza, urged him to follow in important matters, that he will not make the python an occasion of war at the present time.

“It is not for me, a servant, to question the decisions of my chief, or to ask how it is, in view of the promises of the war-doctor, that you hesitate from advising that the warriors be at once led to victory. But it is my duty to reveal what was told to me in a vision. Know, then, that ‘Munyu,’ which was slain by Folodi, the European, was a messenger sent by the ‘Imishologu’ (Ancestral spirits) to convey tokens of their favour to Kreli, and that if the qualities of the serpent be wholly lost to our chief, the ‘Imishologu’ will turn their faces from us in the hour of danger.

“As to this”—here he produced the bushbuck horn sent by the Bomvana chief, and scornfully scattered its contents upon the ground, after which he hurled the horn away over the heads of his hearers.

“What, then, must be done?” he continued. “Why, this: If the chief cannot obtain the skull and gall of ‘Munyu,’ there is nothing to prevent him getting the skull and gall of ‘Munyu’s’ slayer. The European has vanquished the snake, therefore is he greater than the snake. Bring unto me this man’s head and gall, and I will prepare a draught for Kreli which will make him so wise and subtle that you will all be as children before him, and so fierce that the warriors of Umtirara will flee from before his face.”

The witch-doctor resumed his seat amid guttural murmurs of approval, and the councillors, glad to have such an easy way indicated out of a thorny situation, adopted his proposal on the spot. Nothing now remained to be done but to organise a killing party and despatch it to the residence of the unsuspecting trader.

The witch-doctor pronounced the current state of the moon to be propitious, so messengers were at once sent to warn a sufficient number of men from the surrounding kraals for immediate duty.

It is usually and mistakenly considered that Kaffirs are absolutely deficient in gratitude. If such were the case John Flood would have come to a sudden end, most probably, since his skull was required intact, by strangling with a thong. But there happened to be present at the council a man whom the trader had once successfully treated for a serious illness after the native doctors had pronounced his case to be hopeless. In the middle of the night Flood was awakened by a tap at the door of his sleeping hut. Without opening the door he asked who it was that wanted him.

“It is I, Fanti. Open the door.”