By the side of the river was a kind of shelf of rock that was used as aroad, and over this they bumped in their wagon, till presently they werepast the koppies and could see their future home beyond. It was a plainsome miles across, and entirely surrounded by precipitous hills, theriver entering it through a gorge to the north. In the centre of thisplain was another large koppie of which the river _Ukufa_, or Death,washed one side. Around this koppie, amid a certain area of cultivatedland, stood the "town" of the Christian branch of the Sisa. It consistedof groups of huts, ten or a dozen groups in all, set on low ground nearthe river, which suggested that the population might number anythingbetween seven hundred and a thousand souls.
At the time that our party first saw it the sun was sinking, and haddisappeared behind the western portion of the barricade of hills.Therefore the valley, if it may be so called, was plunged in a gloomthat seemed almost unnatural when compared with the brilliant sky above,across which the radiant lights of an African sunset already sped likearrows, or rather like red and ominous spears of flame.
"What a dreadful place!" exclaimed Dorcas. "Is our home to be here?"
"I suppose so," answered Thomas, who to tell the truth for once washimself somewhat dismayed. "It does look a little gloomy, but afterall it is very sheltered, and home is what one makes it," he addedsententiously.
Here the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the Chief andsome of the Christian portion of the Sisa tribe, who having been warnedof its approach by messenger, to the number of a hundred and fifty or sohad advanced to meet the party.
They were a motley crowd clad in every kind of garment, ranging from amoth-eaten General's tunic to practically nothing at all. Indeed, onetall, thin fellow sported only a battered helmet of rusty steel thathad drifted here from some European army, a _moocha_ or waistbelt ofcatskins, and a pair of decayed tennis-shoes through which his toesappeared. With them came what were evidently the remains of the churchchoir, when there was a church, for they wore dirty fragments ofsurplices and sang what seemed to be a hymn tune to the strains of adecadent accordion.
The tune was long and ended in a kind of howl like to that of adisappointed jackal. When at length it was finished the Chief Kosaappeared. He was a middle-aged man, become prematurely old because hehad lived too fast in his pre-Christian days, or so report said. Now hehad a somewhat imbecile appearance, for his fingers twitched and when hespoke his mouth jerked up at the corners; also he kept looking over hisshoulder as though he were afraid of something behind him. Altogether heinspired Thomas with no confidence. Whatever else he might be, clearlyhe was not a staff for a crusader to lean upon.
Still he came forward and made a very nice speech, as a high-brednative noble, such as he was, can almost invariably do. With many piousexpressions he welcomed the new Teacher, saying that he and his people,that is those of them who were Christians, would do their best to makehim happy.
Thomas thanked him in appropriate language, adding that he on his partwould do his best to promote their welfare and to save their souls.
Kosa replied that he was glad to hear it, because these needed saving,since most of the Sisa people were now servants of the devil. Since thelast _Umfundisi_, or Teacher died, they had been walking the roadto hell at a very great pace, marrying many wives, drinking gin andpractising all kinds of witchcraft under the guidance of the _Isanusi_or doctor, Menzi. This man, he added, had burned down the church and themission-house by his magic, though these had seemed to be destroyed bylightning.
With a proud gesture Thomas announced that he would soon settle Menziand all his works, and that meanwhile, as the darkness was coming on,he would be glad if Kosa would lead them to the place where they were tosleep.
So they started, the accordion-man, playing execrably, leading the way,and trekked for about a mile and a half till they came to the koppie inthe centre of the plain, reaching it by following the left bank of theriver that washed its western face.
Passing between a number of tumbled walls built of loose stones, thatonce in bygone generations had sheltered the cattle of Chaka and otherZulu kings, they reached a bay in the side of the koppie that mayhave covered four acres of ground. Here by the edge of the river, butstanding a little above it, were the burnt-out ruins of a building thatby its shape had evidently been a church, and near to it other ruins ofa school and of a house which once was the mission-station.
As they approached they heard swelling from within those cracked andmelancholy walls the sound of a fierce, defiant chant which Thomasguessed must be some ancient Zulu war-song, as indeed it was. It wasa very impressive song, chanted by many people, which informed thelisteners that those who sung it were the King's oxen, born to killthe King's enemies, and to be killed for the King, and so forth; adeep-noted, savage song that thrilled the blood, at the first sound ofwhich the accordion gave a feeble wail and metaphorically expired.
"Isn't that beautiful music, Father. I never heard anything like thatbefore," exclaimed Tabitha.
Before Thomas could answer, out from the ruined doorway of the Churchissued a band of men--there might have been a hundred of them--clad inall the magnificent panoply of old-time Zulu warriors, with tall plumesupon their heads, large shields upon their arms, kilts about theirmiddles, and fringes of oxtails hanging from their knees and elbows.They formed into a double line and advanced, waving broad-bladedassegais. Then at a signal they halted by the wagon and uttered adeep-throated salute.
In front of their lines was a little withered old fellow who carriedneither shield nor spear, but only a black rod to which was bound thetail of a _wildebeeste_. Except for his _moocha_ he was almost naked,and into his grey hair was woven a polished ring of black gum, fromwhich hung several little bladders. Upon his scraggy neck was a necklaceof baboon's teeth and amulets, whilst above the _moocha_ was twisted asnake that might have been either alive or stuffed.
His face, though aged and shrunken, was fine-featured and full ofbreeding, while his hands and feet were very small; his eyes werebrooding, the eyes of a mystic, but when his interest was excited theirglance was as sharp as a bradawl. Just now it was fixed on Thomas, whofelt as if it were piercing him through and through. The owner of theeyes, as Thomas guessed at once, was Menzi, a witch-doctor very famousin those parts.
"Why are these men armed with spears? It is against the law for Kaffirsto carry spears," he said to the Chief.
"This is Portuguese Territory; there is no law in Portuguese Territory,"answered Kosa with a vacant stare.
"Then we might be all murdered here and no notice taken," exclaimedThomas.
"Yes, Teacher. Many people have been murdered here: my father wasmurdered, and I dare say I shall be."
"Who by?"
Kosa made no answer, but his vacant eyes rested for a little while onMenzi.
"Good God! what a country," said Thomas to himself, looking at Dorcaswho was frightened. Then he turned to meet Menzi, who was advancingtowards them.
Casting a glance of contempt at Kosa, of whom he took no further notice,Menzi saluted the new-comers by lifting his hand above his head. Thenwith the utmost politeness he drew a snuff-box fashioned from the tip ofa buffalo-horn out of a slit in the lobe of his left ear, extracted thewooden stopper and offered Thomas some snuff.
"Thank you, but I do not take that nastiness," said Thomas.
Menzi sighed as though in disappointment, and having helped himself toa little, re-stoppered the horn and thrust it back into the lobe of hisear. Next he said, speaking in a gentle and refined voice:
"Greeting, Teacher, who, the messengers tell us, are called Tombool inyour own language and in ours _Inkunzi_. A good name, for in truth youlook like a bull. I am glad to see that you are made much more robustthan was the last Teacher, and therefore will live longer in this placethan he did. Though as for the lady-teacher----" and he glanced at thedelicate-looking Dorcas.
Thomas stared at this man, to whom already he had taken a strongdislike. Then moved thereto either by a very n
atural outburst of temper,or perchance by a flash of inspiration, he replied:
"Yes, I shall live longer than did my brother, who died here and hasgone to Heaven, and longer I think than you will."
This personal remark seemed to take Menzi aback; indeed for a moment helooked frightened. Recovering himself, however, he said:
"I perceive, Teacher Tombool, that like myself you are a witch-doctorand a prophet. At present I do not know which of us will live thelonger, but I will consult my Spirits and tell you afterwards."
"Pray do not trouble to do so on my account, for I do not believe inyour Spirits."
"Of course you do not, Teacher. No doctor believes in another doctor'sSpirits, since each has his own, and there are more Spirits than thereare doctors. Teacher Tombool, I greet you and tell you at once that weare at war over this matter of Spirits. This tribe, Teacher, is a cleftlog, yes, it is split into two. The Chief there, Kosa, sits on one halfof the log with his Christians; I sit on the other half with the rest,who are as our fathers were. So if you wish to fight I shall fight withsuch weapons as I have. No, do not look at the spears--not with spears.But, if you leave me and my following alone, we shall leave you alone.If you are wise I think that you will do well to walk your own road andsuffer us to walk ours."
"On the contrary," answered Thomas, "I intend that all the Sisa peopleshall walk one road, the road that leads to Heaven."
"Is it so, Teacher?" Menzi replied with a mysterious smile.
Then he turned his head and looked at the darkling river that just here,where it ran beneath an overhanging ledge of the koppie, was very deepand still. Thomas felt that there was a world of meaning in his look,though what it might be he did not know. Suddenly he remembered thatthis river was named Death.
After Menzi had looked quite a long while, once more he saluted asthough in farewell, searching the faces of the three white people,especially Tabitha's, with his dreamy eyes and, letting them fall,searching the ground also. Near to where he stood grew a number of veldflowers, such as appear in their glory after the rains in Africa. Amongthese was a rare and beautiful white lily. This lily Menzi plucked, andstepping forward, presented it to Tabitha, saying:
"A flower for the Flower! A gift to a child from one who is childless!"
Her father saw and meditated interference. But he was too late; Tabithahad already taken the lily and was thanking Menzi in his own tongue,which she knew well enough, having been brought up by Zulu nurses. Hesmiled at her, saying:
"All Spirits, black or white, love flowers."
Then for a third time he saluted, not the others, but Tabitha, with moreheartiness than before, and turning, departed, followed by his spearmen,who also saluted Tabitha as they filed in front of her.
It was a strange sight to see these great plumed men lifting their broadspears to the beautiful bright-haired child who stood there holding thetall white lily in her hand as though it were a sceptre.
IV
When Menzi and his company had departed, vanishing round the corner ofthe koppie, Thomas again asked the Chief where they were to sleep, anurgent matter as darkness was now approaching.
Kosa answered with his usual vagueness that he supposed in the hut wherethe late Teacher had died after the mission-house was burnt down. Sothey trekked on a little way, passing beneath the shelf of rock that hasbeen mentioned as projecting from that side of the koppie which overhungthe stream, where there was just room for a wagon to travel between thecliff and the water.
"What a dark road," said Dorcas, and one of the Christian nativeswho understood some English, having been the body-servant of the latemissionary--it was he with the accordion--replied in Zulu:
"Yes, Lady; this rock is called the Rock of Evildoers, because oncethose accused of witchcraft and others were thrown from it by the orderof the King, to be eaten by the crocodiles in that pool. But," he added,brightening up, "do not be afraid, for there are no more Zulu kings andwe have hunted away the crocodiles, though it is true that there arestill plenty of wizards who ought to be thrown from the rock," and helooked over his shoulder in the direction Menzi had taken, adding in alow voice, "You have just seen the greatest of them, Lady."
"How horrible!" said Dorcas for the second time.
A few yards farther on they emerged from this tunnel-like roadway andfound themselves travelling along the northern face of the koppie. Here,surrounded by a fence, stood the Chief's kraal, and just outside of ita large, thatched hut with one or two smaller huts at its back. It wasa good hut of its sort, being built after the Basuto fashion with aprojecting roof and a doorway, and having a kind of verandah flooredwith beaten lime.
"This was the Teacher's house," said Kosa as the wagon halted.
"I should like to look inside it at once," remarked Dorcas doubtfully,adding, "Why, what's that?" and she pointed to a suspicious-looking,oblong mound that was covered with weeds, over which she had almoststumbled.
"That is the grave of the late Teacher, Lady. We buried him here becauseMenzi's people took up the bones of those who were in the churchyard andthrew them into the river," explained Kosa.
Dorcas looked as though she were going to faint, but Thomas, rising tothe occasion, remarked:
"Come on, dear. The dead are always with us, and what better companycould we have than the dust of our sainted predecessor."
"I would rather have his room," murmured Dorcas, and gathering herselftogether, proceeded to the hut.
Somebody opened the door with difficulty, and as it seemed to be verydark within Thomas struck a match, by the light of which Dorcas peeredinto the interior. Next second she fell back into his arms with a littlescream.
"Take me away!" she said. "The place is full of rats."
He stared; it was quite true. There, sitting up upon the deadmissionary's bed, was a singularly large rat that did not seem in theleast frightened by their appearance, whilst other creatures of the sametribe scuttled about the floor and up the walls.
Dorcas slept, or did not sleep, that night in the wagon with Tabitha,while Thomas took his rest beneath it as well as a drizzling rain thatwas falling would allow.
Such was the beginning of the life of the Bull family in Sisa-Land,not an encouraging beginning, it will be admitted, though no worse andperhaps much better than that which many missionaries and their familiesare called upon to face in various regions of the earth. What horror isthere that missionaries have not been called upon to endure? St. Paultells us of his trials, but they are paralleled, if not surpassed, evenin the present day.
Missionaries, however good, may not always be wise folk; the readermight even think the Rev. Thomas Bull to be no perfect embodiment ofwisdom, sympathy or perhaps manners, but taking them as a class they arecertainly heroic folks, who endure many things for small reward, as wereckon reward. In nothing perhaps do they show their heroism and faithmore greatly than in their persistent habit of conveying women and youngchildren into the most impossible places of the earth, there to suffermany things, not exclusive, occasionally, of martyrdom. At least theProtestant section of their calling does this; the Roman Catholics arewiser. In renouncing marriage these save themselves from many agonies,and having only their own lives and health at stake, are perhaps betterfitted to face rough work in rough places.
Even Thomas Bull, not a particularly sensitive person, was tempted morethan once to arrive at similar conclusions during his period of servicein Sisa-land, although neither he nor his wife or child was called uponto face the awful extremities that have confronted others of his cloth;for instance, another Thomas, one Owen, who was a missionary in Zululandat the time when Dingaan, the King, massacred Retief and his Boersbeneath his eyes.
On the following morning Thomas crept out from beneath his wagon, notrefreshed, it is true, but filled with a renewed and even more fieryzeal. During those damp hours of unrest he had reflected much andbrought the whole position into perspective, a clear if a narrowperspective. The Chief with whom he had to deal evidently was a fool, ifnot a
n imbecile, and the Christians who remained after a generation ofteaching were for the most part poor creatures, the weak-kneed amongstthis mixed-blood tribe, probably those of the milder Basuto origin.
Such strength as remained in the people, who were, after all, but adwindling handful marooned in a distant spot, was to be found amongthose of the old Zulu stock. They were descendants of the men sentby the Kings Chaka and Dingaan to keep an eye upon the humble Basutoslaves, whose duty it was to herd the royal cattle, the men, too, towhom was entrusted the proud but hateful business of carrying outthe execution of persons that, for one reason or another, it was notdesirable to kill at home.
The individuals detailed for these duties were for the most part of highblood, inconvenient persons, perhaps, whom it was desired to move toa distance. Thus, as Thomas Bull soon learned, Menzi was said to beno less a man than the grandson of the King Dingaan himself, one whosefather had developed troublesome ambitions, but whose life had beenspared because his mother was a favourite with the King.
Hence some of the grandson's pride, which was enhanced by the fact thatin his youth he had been trained in medicine and magic by a certainZikali, alias "Opener-of-Roads," who was said to have been the greatestwitch-doctor that ever lived in Zululand, and through him had acquired,or perhaps developed inherent psychic gifts, that were in any caseconsiderable.
In the end, however, he had returned to his petty tribe, neglectinglarger opportunities, as Thomas learned, because of some woman to whomhe was attached at home. It seemed, however, that he might as well havestayed away, since on his arrival he found that this woman had becomeone of the Chief's wives, for which reason he afterwards killed thatChief, Kosa's father, and possessed himself of the woman, who diedimmediately afterwards, as Menzi suspected by poisoning. It wasprincipally for this reason that he hated Kosa, his enemy's son, and allwho clung to him; and partly because of that hatred and the fear that itengendered Kosa and his people had turned Christian, hoping to protectthemselves thus against Menzi and his wizardries. Also for this deadwoman's sake, Menzi had never married again.