The White Hecatomb, and Other Stories

by W. C. Scully

After Nomayeshè had been carried down to her hut on the afternoon of the second day of the search for her lost child, she lay long unconscious, and when she awoke, it was to raging delirium, which lasted until late in the night, when sleep suddenly overcame her.

Next morning, just after sunrise, she opened her eyes, and lay for a long time wondering as to what had happened. At length she remembered, and with a cry she started up for the purpose of going forth again to search. She staggered out of the hut, only to fall helplessly to the ground before the doorway. Several women from the nearest kraals had come to tend her, and these tried to persuade her of the uselessness of further search. Tears came to her relief, and she became calmer. At length she was persuaded to drink a little milk, after which she sank to the floor in a stone-like sleep. When she awoke, it was nearly noon.

It happened just about this time that Dhlaka, who had been out herding the flock of goats, returned to the kraal with strange news. In the veldt he had foregathered with other boys, who told him that a child had been heard crying under a stone near the kraal of ’Ndondo.

When this was communicated to Nomayeshè, she uttered one wild cry in which hope and agony were blended, and rushed forth. Her weakness had disappeared, and she climbed the steep, stony hills so fast that the two women who started with her were soon labouring on with heavy pantings, some distance behind. The seven miles she had to travel led her through many a tangled thicket, and along many a dizzy ledge with frowning buttresses above, and sheer precipices yawning beneath. She plunged into dark ravines, in the depths of which the light of day was almost lost, and scaled narrow, knife-back ridges so steep that hands as well as feet had to be used by the climber.

Nomayeshè reached the kraal of ’Ndondo alone, about the middle of the afternoon, and probably two hours after the return of the party from the scene of their unsuccessful attempt at appeasing the “imishologu” by means of the goats.

These hours had been spent by the men in heavy drinking; all had endeavoured to make up the time that had been lost, and the beer, being now fully fermented, was at its point of greatest strength, just before turning sour.

Nomayeshè, wild-eyed and quivering, strode into the circle and sank exhausted to the ground before ’Ndondo, who was the only one present with whom she was acquainted. In disjointed sentences she began asking about her child, for she knew that the one she had heard of as crying under the stone must be little Nodada.

’Ndondo was in a very maudlin state, and the only two clear ideas he had were: that he must on no account whatsoever affront the witch-doctors, and that the said witch-doctors had stringently forbidden any interference with the child beneath the stone, under peril of the vengeance of the “imishologu”; or rather, what concerned ’Ndondo more nearly, under peril of offending the witch-doctors themselves.

’Ndondo accordingly declared, with drunken emphasis, that he knew nothing of the matter, and that the account of the child crying under the stone was an idle tale set current by boys, who should be well beaten for speaking falsely.

The most celebrated witch-doctor, however, took a different line. He had reached that stage in his cups which brings to some immense self-confidence. He arose, albeit somewhat unsteadily, and made a vigorous and eloquent speech. He recapitulated all he had previously said about the danger of offending the “imishologu” by interference with their concerns. He drew attention to an occurrence of a few years back, which was still fresh in the memories of all present, when the solid earth had shaken until a bluff of the mountain slid down with thunderous roarings, and overwhelmed a kraal, not one of the inhabitants of which had escaped. Continuing, he depicted once more the happy condition of the child in the subterranean fields. He ended by pronouncing the direst anathemas upon any one becoming accessory to the impious deed which the woman contemplated.