CHAPTER II
THE FIRE-FIGHT
When I had buried my father, and seen a successor installed in hisplace--for the station was the property of the Society--I set to work tocarry out a plan which I had long cherished, but been unable to executebecause it would have involved separation from my father. Put shortly,it was to undertake a trading journey of exploration right through thecountries now known as the Free State and the Transvaal, and as muchfurther North as I could go. It was an adventurous scheme, for thoughthe emigrant Boers had begun to occupy positions in these territories,they were still to all practical purposes unexplored. But I was nowalone in the world, and it mattered little what became of me; so, drivenon by the overmastering love of adventure, which, old as I am, willperhaps still be the cause of my death, I determined to undertake thejourney.
Accordingly I sold such stock and goods as we had upon the station,reserving only the two best waggons and two spans of oxen. The proceedsI invested in such goods as were then in fashion, for trading purposes,and in guns and ammunition. The guns would have moved any modernexplorer to merriment; but such as they were I managed to do a good dealof execution with them. One of them was a single-barrelled, smoothbore, fitted for percussion caps--a roer we called it--which threw athree-ounce ball, and was charged with a handful of coarse black powder.Many is the elephant that I killed with that roer, although it generallyknocked me backwards when I fired it, which I only did under compulsion.The best of the lot, perhaps, was a double-barrelled No. 12 shot-gun,but it had flint locks. Also there were some old tower muskets, whichmight or might not throw straight at seventy yards. I took six Kaffirswith me, and three good horses, which were supposed to be salted--thatis, proof against the sickness. Among the Kaffirs was an old fellownamed Indaba-zimbi, which, being translated, means "tongue of iron."I suppose he got this name from his strident voice and exhaustlesseloquence. This man was a great character in his way. He had been anoted witch-doctor among a neighbouring tribe, and came to the stationunder the following circumstances, which, as he plays a considerablepart in this history, are perhaps worth recording.
Two years before my father's death I had occasion to search the countryround for some lost oxen. After a long and useless quest it occurredto me that I had better go to the place where the oxen were bred by aKaffir chief, whose name I forget, but whose kraal was about fifty milesfrom our station. There I journeyed, and found the oxen safe at home.The chief entertained me handsomely, and on the following morning I wentto pay my respects to him before leaving, and was somewhat surprised tofind a collection of some hundreds of men and women sitting round himanxiously watching the sky in which the thunder-clouds were banking upin a very ominous way.
"You had better wait, white man," said the chief, "and see therain-doctors fight the lightning."
I inquired what he meant, and learned that this man, Indaba-zimbi, hadfor some years occupied the position of wizard-in-chief to the tribe,although he was not a member of it, having been born in the country nowknown as Zululand. But a son of the chief's, a man of about thirty,had lately set up as a rival in supernatural powers. This irritatedIndaba-zimbi beyond measure, and a quarrel ensued between the twowitch-doctors that resulted in a challenge to trial by lightning beinggiven and accepted. These were the conditions. The rivals must await thecoming of a serious thunderstorm, no ordinary tempest would serve theirturn. Then, carrying assegais in their hands, they must take their standwithin fifty paces of each other upon a certain patch of ground wherethe big thunderbolts were observed to strike continually, and by theexercise of their occult powers and invocations to the lightning, muststrive to avert death from themselves and bring it on their rival. Theterms of this singular match had been arranged a month previously,but no storm worthy of the occasion had arisen. Now the localweather-prophets believed it to be brewing.
I inquired what would happen if neither of the men were struck, and wastold that they must then wait for another storm. If they escaped thesecond time, however, they would be held to be equal in power, and bejointly consulted by the tribe upon occasions of importance.
The prospect of being a spectator of so unusual a sight overcame mydesire to be gone, and I accepted the chief's invitation to see itout. Before mid-day I regretted it, for though the western heavens grewdarker and darker, and the still air heralded the coming of the storm,yet it did not come. By four o'clock, however, it became obvious thatit must burst soon--at sunset, the old chief said, and in the companyof the whole assembly I moved down to the place of combat. The kraal wasbuilt on the top of a hill, and below it the land sloped gently to thebanks of a river about half a mile away. On the hither side of thebank was the piece of land that was, the natives said, "loved of thelightning." Here the magicians took up their stand, while the spectatorsgrouped themselves on the hillside about two hundred yards away--whichwas, I thought, rather too near to be pleasant. When we had sat therefor a while my curiosity overcame me, and I asked leave of the chief togo down and inspect the arena. He said I might do so at my own risk. Itold him that the fire from above would not hurt white men, and wentto find that the spot was a bed of iron ore, thinly covered with grass,which of course accounted for its attracting the lightning from thestorms as they travelled along the line of the river. At each end ofthis iron-stone area were placed the combatants, Indaba-zimbi facing theeast, and his rival the west, and before each there burned a littlefire made of some scented root. Moreover they were dressed in all theparaphernalia of their craft, snakeskins, fish-bladders, and I know notwhat beside, while round their necks hung circlets of baboons' teethand bones from human hands. First I went to the western end wherethe chief's son stood. He was pointing with his assegai towards theadvancing storm, and invoking it in a voice of great excitement.
"Come, fire, and lick up Indaba-zimbi!
"Hear me, Storm Devil, and lick Indaba-zimbi with your red tongue!
"Spit on him with your rain!
"Whirl him away in your breath!
"Make him as nothing--melt the marrow in his bones!
"Run into his heart and burn away the lies!
"Show all the people who is the true Witch Finder!
"Let me not be put to shame in the eyes of this white man!"
Thus he spoke, or rather chanted, and all the while rubbed his broadchest--for he was a very fine man--with some filthy compound of medicineor _mouti_.
After a while, getting tired of his song, I walked across theiron-stone, to where Indaba-zimbi sat by his fire. He was not chantingat all, but his performance was much more impressive. It consisted instaring at the eastern sky, which was perfectly clear of cloud, andevery now and again beckoning at it with his finger, then turning roundto point with the assegai towards his rival. For a while I looked at himin silence. He was a curious wizened man, apparently over fifty yearsof age, with thin hands that looked as tough as wire. His nose was muchsharper than is usual among these races, and he had a queer habit ofholding his head sideways like a bird when he spoke, which, inaddition to the humour that lurked in his eye, gave him a most comicalappearance. Another strange thing about him was that he had a singlewhite lock of hair among his black wool. At last I spoke to him:
"Indaba-zimbi, my friend," I said, "you may be a good witch-doctor, butyou are certainly a fool. It is no good beckoning at the blue sky whileyour enemy is getting a start with the storm."
"You may be clever, but don't think you know everything, white man," theold fellow answered, in a high, cracked voice, and with something like agrin.
"They call you Iron-tongue," I went on; "you had better use it, or theStorm Devil won't hear you."
"The fire from above runs down iron," he answered, "so I keep my tonguequiet. Oh, yes, let him curse away, I'll put him out presently. Looknow, white man."
I looked, and in the eastern sky there grew a cloud. At first it wassmall, though very black, but it gathered with extraordinary rapidity.
This was odd enough, but as I had seen the same thing happen befor
e itdid not particularly astonish me. It is by no means unusual in Africafor two thunderstorms to come up at the same time from different pointsof the compass.
"You had better get on, Indaba-zimbi," I said, "the big storm is comingalong fast, and will soon eat up that baby of yours," and I pointed tothe west.
"Babies sometimes grow to giants, white man," said Indaba-zimbi,beckoning away vigorously. "Look now at my cloud-child."
I looked; the eastern storm was spreading itself from earth to sky, andin shape resembled an enormous man. There was its head, its shoulders,and its legs; yes, it was like a huge giant travelling across theheavens. The light of the setting sun escaping from beneath the loweredge of the western storm shot across the intervening space in a sheetof splendour, and, lighting upon the advancing figure of cloud, wrappedits middle in hues of glory too wonderful to be described; but beneathand above this glowing belt his feet and head were black as jet.Presently, as I watched, an awful flash of light shot from the head ofthe cloud, circled it about as though with a crown of living fire, andvanished.
"Aha," chuckled old Indaba-zimbi, "my little boy is putting on his man'sring," and he tapped the gum ring on his own head, which natives assumewhen they reach a certain age and dignity. "Now, white man, unless youare a bigger wizard than either of us you had better clear off, for thefire-fight is about to begin."
I thought this sound advice.
"Good luck go with you, my black uncle," I said. "I hope you don't feelthe iniquities of a mis-spent life weighing on you at the last."
"You look after yourself, and think of your own sins, young man," heanswered, with a grim smile, and taking a pinch of snuff, while at thatvery moment a flash of lightning, I don't know from which storm, struckthe ground within thirty paces of me. That was enough for me, I tookto my heels, and as I went I heard old Indaba-zimbi's dry chuckle ofamusement.
I climbed the hill till I came to where the chief was sitting with hisindunas, or headmen, and sat down near to him. I looked at the man'sface and saw that he was intensely anxious for his son's safety, andby no means confident of the young man's powers to resist the magic ofIndaba-zimbi. He was talking in a low voice to the induna next to him.I affected to take no notice and to be concentrating my attention onthe novel scene before me; but in those days I had very quick ears, andcaught the drift of the conversation.
"Hearken!" the chief was saying, "if the magic of Indaba-zimbi prevailsagainst my son I will endure him no more. Of this I am sure, that whenhe has slain my son he will slay me, me also, and make himself chief inmy place. I fear Indaba-zimbi. _Ou!_"
"Black One," answered the induna, "wizards die as dogs die, and, oncedead, dogs bark no more."
"And once dead," said the chiefs, "wizards work no more spells," and hebent and whispered in the induna's ear, looking at the assegai in hishand as he whispered.
"Good, my father, good!" said the induna, presently. "It shall be doneto-night, if the lightning does not do it first."
"A bad look-out for old Indaba-zimbi," I said to myself. "They mean tokill him." Then I thought no more of the matter for a while, the scenebefore me was too tremendous.
The two storms were rapidly rushing together. Between them was a gulf ofblue sky, and from time to time flashes of blinding light passed acrossthis gulf, leaping from cloud to cloud. I remember that they remindedme of the story of the heathen god Jove and his thunderbolts. The stormthat was shaped like a giant and ringed with the glory of the sinkingsun made an excellent Jove, and I am sure that the bolts which leaptfrom it could not have been surpassed even in mythological times.Oddly enough, as yet the flashes were not followed by thunder. A deadlystillness lay upon the place, the cattle stood silently on the hillside,even the natives were awed to silence. Dark shadows crept along thebosom of the hills, the river to the right and left was hidden inwreaths of cloud, but before us and beyond the combatants it shonelike a line of silver beneath the narrowing space of open sky. Now thewestern tempest was scrawled all over with lines of intolerable light,while the inky head of the cloud-giant to the east was continuallysuffused with a white and deadly glow that came and went in pulses, asthough a blood of flame was being pumped into it from the heart of thestorm.
The silence deepened and deepened, the shadows grew blacker and blacker,then suddenly all nature began to moan beneath the breath of an icywind. On sped the wind; the smooth surface of the river was ruffled byit into little waves, the tall grass bowed low before it, and in itswake came the hissing sound of furious rain.
Ah! the storms had met. From each there burst an awful blaze of dazzlingflame, and now the hill on which we sat rocked at the noise of thefollowing thunder. The light went out of the sky, darkness fell suddenlyon the land, but not for long. Presently the whole landscape grew vividin the flashes, it appeared and disappeared, now everything was visiblefor miles, now even the men at my side vanished in the blackness. Thethunder rolled and cracked and pealed like the trump of doom, whirlwindstore round, lifting dust and even stones high into the air, and in alow, continuous undertone rose the hiss of the rushing rain.
I put my hand before my eyes to shield them from the terrible glare,and looked beneath it towards the lists of iron-stone. As flash followedflash, from time to time I caught sight of the two wizards. They wereslowly advancing towards one another, each pointing at his foe with theassegai in his hand. I could see their every movement, and it seemed tome that the chain lightning was striking the iron-stone all round them.
Suddenly the thunder and lightning ceased for a minute, everything grewblack, and, except for the rain, silent.
"It is over one way or the other, chief," I called out into thedarkness.
"Wait, white man, wait!" answered the chief, in a voice thick withanxiety and fear.
Hardly were the words out of his mouth when the heavens were lit upagain till they literally seemed to flame. There were the men, not tenpaces apart. A great flash fell between them, I saw them stagger beneaththe shock. Indaba-zimbi recovered himself first--at any rate when thenext flash came he was standing bolt upright, pointing with his assegaitowards his enemy. The chief's son was still on his legs, but he wasstaggering like a drunken man, and the assegai had fallen from his hand.
Darkness! then again a flash, more fearful, if possible, than any thathad gone before. To me it seemed to come from the east, right over thehead of Indaba-zimbi. At that instant I saw the chief's son wrapped,as it were, in the heart of it. Then the thunder pealed, the rain burstover us like a torrent, and I saw no more.
The worst of the storm was done, but for a while the darkness was sodense that we could not move, nor, indeed, was I inclined to leave thesafety of the hillside where the lightning was never known to strike,and venture down to the iron-stone. Occasionally there still cameflashes, but, search as we would, we could see no trace of either ofthe wizards. For my part, I believed that they were both dead. Now theclouds slowly rolled away down the course of the river, and with themwent the rain; and now the stars shone in their wake.
"Let us go and see," said the old chief, rising and shaking the waterfrom his hair. "The fire-fight is ended, let us go and see who hasconquered."
I rose and followed him, dripping as though I had swum a hundred yardswith my clothes on, and after me came all the people of the kraal.
We reached the spot; even in that light I could see where the iron-stonehad been split and fused by the thunderbolts. While I was staring aboutme, I suddenly heard the chief, who was on my right, give a low moan,and saw the people cluster round him. I went up and looked. There, onthe ground, lay the body of his son. It was a dreadful sight. The hairwas burnt off his head, the copper rings upon his arms were fused, theassegai handle which lay near was literally shivered into threads, and,when I took hold of his arm, it seemed to me that every bone of it wasbroken.
The men with the chief stood gazing silently, while the women wailed.
"Great is the magic of Indaba-zimbi!" said a man, at length. The chiefturned and struck him a h
eavy blow with the kerrie in his hand.
"Great or not, thou dog, he shall die," he cried, "and so shalt thou ifthou singest his praises so loudly."
I said nothing, but thinking it probable that Indaba-zimbi had sharedthe fate of his enemy, I went to look. But I could see nothing of him,and at length, being thoroughly chilled with the wet, started back to mywaggon to change my clothes. On reaching it, I was rather surprised tosee a strange Kaffir seated on the driving-box wrapped up in a blanket.
"Hullo! come out of that," I said.
The figure on the box slowly unrolled the blanket, and with greatdeliberation took a pinch of snuff.
"It was a good fire-fight, white man, was it not?" said Indaba-zimbi,in his high, cracked voice. "But he never had a chance against me,poor boy. He knew nothing about it. See, white man, what becomes ofpresumption in the young. It is sad, very sad, but I made the flashesfly, didn't I?"
"You old humbug," I said, "unless you are careful you will soon learnwhat comes of presumption in the old, for your chief is after you withan assegai, and it will take all your magic to dodge that."
"Now you don't say so," said Indaba-zimbi, clambering off the waggonwith rapidity; "and all because of this wretched upstart. There'sgratitude for you, white man. I expose him, and they want to kill me.Well, thank you for the hint. We shall meet again before long," andhe was gone like a shot, and not too soon, for just then some of thechief's men came up to the waggon.
On the following morning I started homewards. The first face I saw onarriving at the station was that of Indaba-zimbi.
"How do you do, Macumazahn?" he said, holding his head on one side andnodding his white lock. "I hear you are Christians here, and I want totry a new religion. Mine must be a bad one seeing that my people wantedto kill me for exposing an impostor."