'Tween Snow and Fire: A Tale of the Last Kafir War

  CHAPTER THIRTY.

  THE WITCH-DOCTRESS.

  Man, woman, or demon--which was it?

  A grim, massive face, a pair of fierce, rolling eyes, which seemed tosparkle with a cruel and blood thirsty scintillation, a large, stronglybuilt trunk, whose conformation alone betrayed the sex of the creature.Limbs and body were hung around thickly with barbarous "charms" inhideous and disgusting profusion--birds' heads and claws, frogs andlizards, snakes' skins, mingling with the fresh and bloody entrails ofsome animal. But the head of this revolting object was simplydemoniacal in aspect. The hair, instead of being short and woolly, hadbeen allowed to attain some length, and hung down on each side of thefrightful face in a black, kinky mane, save for two lengths of it,which, stiffened with some sort of horrid pigment, stood erect like acouple of long red horns on each side of the wearer's ears. Betweenthese "horns," and crowning the creature's head, grinned a human skull,whose eyeless sockets were smeared round with a broad circle in darkcrimson. And that nothing should be wanting to complete the diabolicalhorror of her appearance, the repulsive and glistening coils of a liveserpent were folding and unfolding about the left arm and shoulder ofthe sorceress.

  Something like a shudder of fear ran through the ranks of the armedwarriors as they gazed upon this frightful apparition. Brave men all--fearless fighters when pitted against equal forces--now they quailed,sat there in their armed might, thoroughly cowed before this femalefiend. She would require blood--would demand a life, perhaps several--that was certain. Whose would it be?

  The wild, beast-like bounds of the witch-doctress subsided into a kindof half-gliding, half-dancing step--her demoniacal words into a weirdnasal sort of chant--as she approached the chief and his councillors.

  "Seek not for Ngcenika, O son of Hintza, father of the children ofXosa!" she cried in a loud voice, fixing her eyes upon Kreli. "Seek notfor Ngcenika, O _amapakati_, wise men of the House of Gcaleka, when yourwisdom is defeated by the witchcraft of your enemies. Seek notNgcenika, O ye fighting men, children of the Great Chief, your father,when your blood is spilled in battle, and your bullets fly harmless fromthe bodies of the whites because of the evil wiles of the enemy withinyour ranks. Seek her not, for she is here--here to protect you--here to`smell out' the evil wizard in your midst. She needs no seeking; sheneeds no calling. She is here!"

  "Ha! ha!" ejaculated the warriors in a kind of gasping roar, for thoseominous words told but too truly what would presently happen. Not a manbut dreaded that he might be the victim, and in proportion as each manstood well in rank or possessions, so much the greater was hisapprehension.

  "I hear the voices of the shadowy dead!" went on the sorceress, strikingan attitude of intense listening, and gazing upwards over the heads ofher audience. "I hear their voices like the whispering murmur of manywaters. I hear them in the air? No. I hear them in the roar of thesalt waves of yonder blue sea? No. I hear them in the whisperingleaves of the forest--in the echoing voices of the rocks? No. In thesunshine? No. I am in the dark--in the dark!" she repeated, raisingher tone to a high, quavering shriek, while her features began to work,her eyes to roll wildly. "I am in the gloom of the far depths, and theworld itself is rolling above me. The air is thick. I choke. Isuffocate. I am in the tomb. The rock walls close me in. There arefaces around me--eyes--myriads of eyes--serpent eyes--hissing tongues.They come about me in the black gloom. They scorch--they burn. Ah-ah!"

  An awful change had come over the speaker. Her features were workingconvulsively--she foamed at the mouth--her eyes were turned literallyinward so that nothing but the white was visible. Her body swayed toand fro in short, irregular jerks, as though avoiding the attack ofunseen enemies. The live serpent, which, grasped by the neck, she heldaloft in the air, writhed its sinuous length, and with hood expanded andeyes scintillating, was hissing ferociously. The effect upon the savageaudience was striking. Not a word was uttered--not a finger moved. Allsat motionless, like so many statues of bronze, every eye bent inawesome entrancement upon the seer. Even Eustace felt the originalcontemptuous interest with which he had watched the performance deepeninto a blood-curdling sort of repulsion. From the stage of merejugglery the case had entered upon one which began to look uncommonlylike genuine diabolical possession.

  "I am in the gloom of the depths," shrieked the hideous sorceress, "eventhe Home of the Immortal Serpents, which none can find save those whoare beloved of the spirits. The air is black and thick. It is shiningwith eyes--eyes, eyes--everywhere eyes. The ground is alive withserpents, even the spirits of our valiant dead, and they speak. Theyspeak but one word and that is `Blood! Blood--blood--blood!'" repeatedthe frightful monster. "Blood must flow! blood! blood!" And uttering aseries of deafening howls she fell prone to the earth in frightfulconvulsions.

  Not one of the spectators moved. The hideous features working, the eyesrolling till they seemed about to drop from their sockets, the foamflying from the lips--the body of Ngcenika seeming to stiffen itselflike a corpse, bounded many feet in the air, and falling to the earthwith a heavy thud, bounded and rebounded again--the festoons ofbarbarous and disgusting ornaments which adorned her person, twistingand untwisting in the air like clusters of snakes. The live_rinkhaals_, which had escaped from her grasp, lay coiled in an attitudeof defence, its head reared threateningly.

  For some minutes this appalling scene continued. Then the horriblecontortions of the body ceased. The witch-doctress lay motionless; theswollen eyes, the terrible face, set and rigid, staring up to Heaven.She might have been dead. So, too, might have been the spectators, sostill, so motionless were they.

  The suspense was becoming horrible, the silence crushing. There wasjust a whisper of air among the leaves of the surrounding forest,causing a faint rustle, otherwise not a sound--not even the distant callof a bird. Eustace, gazing upon the motionless dark forms thatsurrounded him and upon the immeasurably repulsive figure of theprostrate demoniac, felt that he could stand it no longer--that he mustdo something to break that awful silence even though it should cost himhis life, when an interruption occurred, so sudden, so startling in itsunexpectedness, that he could hardly believe his eyes.

  The witch-doctress, who had seemed prone in the powerlessness of extremeexhaustion for hours at least, suddenly sprang to her feet with ablood-curdling yell.

  "The white wizard!" she shrieked. "The white wizard!"

  "Ha! The white wizard! The white wizard!" echoed the warriors,relieved that the storm had passed them by this time. "Let us see. Ishis charm too strong for Ngcenika?"

  The time had come. Though unarmed, Eustace was still unbound.Instinctively and warily he glanced around, eager to grasp at some meansof doing battle for his life. But no such means rewarded his glance.

  Ngcenika walked up to one of the guards, and laid her hand on the bundleof assegais which he carried. The man surrendered it with alacrity,striving to conceal the apprehension which came over his features as hecame face to face with the terrible witch-doctress. She chose ashort-handled, broad-bladed stabbing assegai, examined it critically,and returned to her former position.

  Placing the weapon on the ground she proceeded to dance round it in acircle, chanting a weird, droning incantation. The prisoner watched herkeenly. No attempt had been made to bind him. At last her song ceased.Grasping the assegai in her powerful right hand, she advanced towardsEustace.

  At a sign from Ngcenika the guards fell back some twenty yards. Behindthem were the dense ranks of armed warriors, all craning eagerly forwardto watch what was to follow. At about the same distance in front satthe group of chiefs and councillors, so that the prisoner and thesorceress were completely hemmed in.

  "White wizard--white dog!" she began, standing within striking distance."Wizard indeed! What is thy magic worth? Dost thou not fear me?"

  Eustace, seeing through the repulsive mass of gew-gaws which representedthe juggling line of business, realised that he had to deal with apowerful, broadly bu
ilt, middle-aged woman of about five foot ten. Shelooked hard and muscular, and as strong as any two men--in fact, no meanantagonist, even had he been similarly armed, and he was unarmed.

  "No, I do not fear you," he replied quietly, keeping his eyes upon hers,like a skilful fencer. The answer seemed rather to amuse than irritateher.

  "He does not fear me!" she repeated. "Ha! _Inyoka_, [Serpent], does hefear thee!" she cried, darting the serpent's head within a couple ofinches of the prisoner's face. The reptile hissed hideously, butEustace, who knew that it had been rendered harmless, and that it mustlong since have spat its venom glands empty, did not allow himself to bedisconcerted by this. A murmur of wonder arose from the spectators.

  [The _rinkhaal_, a variety of cobra, has the faculty of being able, whenangry, to eject an acrid, venomous saliva, to a distance of about sixfeet.]

  "He is not afraid! The white wizard is not afraid!" they cried.

  "Dost thou dare to stand before me while I strike thee? Is thy charmpotent enough, O white wizard?" said Ngcenika, raising the assegai inthe air.

  "I dare."

  "Present thy breast, then. Give thy heart to my stroke. Let thy`charm' protect thee if it can."

  A desperate plan had occurred to Eustace--to wrench the assegai from thehag's hand and make a dash for the forest. But even concurrently withthe idea, he realised the absolute impracticability of it. He more,than doubted his ability to disarm his adversary; he had no doubt at allas to the certainty of his being seized long before he could accomplishthat feat. No--he must stand up to the blow. It was his only chance,and at any rate his death would be a swift and painless one.

  The dark, brawny arm of the sorceress was upraised, her muscular fingersgripped the assegai haft a few inches from the blade. The shiningspear-head gleamed aloft.

  Not once did his glance wander from that cruel demon-face confrontinghim. Yet between it and him floated the sweet, oval contour of anothervery different countenance.

  "Love of my life--preserve that life once more for thyself!" he murmuredwith the impassioned fervour of an invocation of faith. His lips moved.

  "Ha! Thou repeatest thy charm, O white wizard," said Ngcenika. "Is itstronger than mine? Is it stronger than mine?"

  One might have heard a pin drop. That fierce, excitable crowd, bendingforward, straining their eyes upon this unwonted scene, held their verybreath as they gazed.

  The prisoner stood with chest expanded--erect--facing thewitch-doctress. There was a flash of light through the air, and thespear descended. No writhing body, gushing with blood, sank to theearth. The prisoner stood, erect and smiling.

  "_Hau_!" cried the warriors. "The `charm' is too strong. The white manis unhurt--_Mawo_!"

  Ngcenika could be seen examining the point of her assegai in scowlingconcern. It was completely flattened and turned.

  It must not be supposed that Eustace was so simple as to imagine thatthe sorceress would strike at the spot where she knew the impediment wasconcealed--over his heart, to wit. That cunning she-devil, as he wellknew, would aim just to the right of this, and would reckon infalliblyupon transfixing him. Accordingly, while watching the stroke, withincredible quickness and dexterity he timed himself to swerve slightlyin that direction thus actually catching the point of the weapon uponthe silver box. Again had the love of Eanswyth stepped between himselfand death.

  "Where is the man who owns this spear?" cried the witch-doctress,suddenly.

  With much inward trepidation a warrior stepped forward.

  "Thy weapon is bewitched!" cried the hag, in a terrible voice.

  The man made no reply. He thought his doom was sealed.

  "Yes, thy weapon is bewitched." Then raising her voice: "Where is theman who struck this white wizard in battle?"

  A moment's hesitation--and there advanced from the ranks of the fightingmen a tall, powerful warrior. He grasped in his hand a broad-bladedassegai, with the point broken short off.

  "I am Mfulini, the son of Mapute," he began, not waiting to be addressedfirst. "I am a fighting man of the race of Gcaleka! I love war._Hau_! I have struck more than one enemy, but have never struck himtwice. _Hau_! I struck this white man and my weapon broke, my strong_umkonto_ [The broad headed close-quarter assegai] that has drunk theheart's blood of five Fingo dogs. The weapon is bewitched. He who hasdone this thing must be found. The wizard must be found. _Hau_!"

  "_Ewa, Ewa_!" shouted the warriors. "The wizard must be found. Thegreat witch-doctress must find him. Then will the white man's magic beno longer too strong for her. He must be killed! Find him! Find him!He must be killed!"