Now, an old Basuto, named Lotuba, dwelt high up in the valley in which Sikulumè’s kraal was situated. Lotuba was famed far and near for his skill as a wizard. It was believed that he could reveal the secrets of the past as easily as he could foretell the future. His methods were quite different to those practised by the Hlubi witch-doctors, and consisted principally of divining through the medium of the “dolossie” bones. These are the metatarsal and metacarpal bones of sheep, goats, antelopes, and other animals, coloured variously. Lotuba would sit on a mat, gather up two or three dozen of these bones, shake them up together in the corner of his calfskin kaross, and then fling them down on the ground after the manner of dice. From the different combinations formed by the bones as they lay on the ground he would read the answer to any question put to him. It was usual for those consulting him to pay a goat as a fee in advance. In this manner he had accumulated considerable wealth.
One night Madilenda asked Sikulumè to let her take a goat from his flock and drive it up to the kraal of Lotuba, whose advice as to little Tobè she wished to ask for. It happened, however, that Sikulumè had reasons of his own for disliking the Basuto doctor, whose kraal, by permission of the chief, was built on what Sikulumè considered to be by right his own particular run of pasturage, so he refused Madilenda’s request, telling her rather roughly that he had had enough of doctors. Madilenda heard him in silence. She sat the whole night through, rocking little Tobè in her lap, and trying to soothe his cough.
It was now mid-winter, and when the frosty dawn glimmered faintly through the latticed door of the hut, the hapless mother arose, wrapped the suffering child warmly in a blanket, stole quietly out, and hurried up the rugged valley towards the dwelling of Lotuba. She had to walk but a little more than a mile, but the road was steep and stony, and she was weak from the effects of long-suffering anxiety and sleeplessness. Besides she was again enceinte; she expected the baby to be born in about two months. Slowly and painfully she climbed her way along the zigzag pathway, sitting down on a stone to rest every now and then. When she reached Lotuba’s kraal the sun had just risen. She did not approach the hut at once, but sat down to rest on the sunny side of the stone goat-enclosure. Here she found a spot sheltered from the keen breeze, so she laid little Tobè down gently upon the ground. The child, protected from the raw air by the thick blanket which was loosely laid over his head, slept soundly, being exhausted from the sufferings of the night.
Madilenda then proceeded to divest herself of all her ornaments. She removed her double bracelets and anklets of cowrie shells, and the brass and copper bangles from her arms and legs. From her throat she untied the necklet of goats’ teeth strung on twisted sinew. Around her waist was tied a small bundle; this she opened, and thus revealed two brightly-coloured cotton handkerchiefs and a small paper packet containing five silver sixpences and four three-penny pieces. The money had been given to her by her husband, coin by coin, out of the proceeds of the hides which she had from time to time carried up to the trader’s and sold.
She spread out one of the handkerchiefs and wrapped the other articles loosely in it; then she lifted the child and walked up the slope to the witch-doctor’s hut, in front of which she sat down and waited, trying at the same time to soothe the child, who was now awake, and who wailed pitifully in the intervals between the racking fits of coughing.
After a short time the door of the hut was opened, and Lotuba the witch-doctor appeared. He was an old man, with wizened features and small, bright eyes. His limbs were thin, and he walked with a stoop.
Lotuba stood, wrapped to the throat in a calfskin kaross, and looked intently at Madilenda, who returned his gaze. After a few moments he re-entered the hut, and beckoned to her to follow him. He seated himself on a mat just inside the door, and Madilenda knelt down, sitting on her heels, opposite him on the floor.
“Those who seek my advice,” he said, “bring something as payment.”
For answer Madilenda held out the little bundle tied in the handkerchief. Lotuba took this, opened it deliberately and examined the contents. Then he tied it up again and hung it to one of the wattles of the hut. Suspended from the central pole was a bag made of the skin of a red mountain cat. This Lotuba took down; then he emptied the “dolossie” bones which it contained into one of the corners of the kaross. Taking a double handful of the bones he flung them down with a sweeping throw on the bare, clay floor.
Bending over the bones with the appearance of one calculating deeply, he kept silence for some little time, and then began to speak in a droning, monotonous, sing-song voice: