By Veldt and Kopje. W. C. Scully

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СКАЧАТЬ the vivid brown, green, and golden patterns into changing prominence.

      Flood, who was not wanting in either courage or coolness, watched his opportunity, and poured a charge of shot into the python’s neck, just behind the head, at point-blank range. Then the monstrous creature crushed the branches of the tree like a wisp in its death agony during one appalling minute, and the monkey, relieved from its fascination, made off into the forest with voluble chatterings, in which, no doubt, miscellaneously profane monkey language was mingled with uncomplimentary remarks about ophidians in general and pythons in particular.

      John Flood, exceedingly stiff from the effects of his fall, obtained assistance and dragged his quarry home in triumph. The shop happened at the time to be surrounded by customers waiting patiently for the return of the proprietor. Through the medium of these the half of Bomvanaland was apprised of the doughty deed within a few hours. Among others who heard the important news was the head witch-doctor of the Bomvana chief, who at once sought an audience with his master. The chief was a young man who had as yet found no opportunity of distinguishing himself.

      A council was at once called hurriedly together. The deliberations of this body were short but decisive. Within half an hour a strong body of armed men were on their way to the trader’s, with strict orders to seize the carcase of the python at all costs and convey it to the “Great Place.” The witch-doctor, clad in the varied and alarming insignia of his office, acted as leader.

      John Flood was extremely proud of his achievement, and Nolai thought far more of her husband than ever before. He had done a notable deed; one which would be talked of at all the kraals in the land for years to come, and she would shine with reflected glory. She had been planning another and more determined effort to break the galling conjugal yoke, but under this new development she determined to postpone action. Her lover, brave as he no doubt was, had never killed a python—nor could she hope he was likely ever to do so. She glanced at the gleaming coils of the dead monster, and shuddered with mingled terror and enjoyment—a complex sensation well known to the feminine bosom, no matter what be its colour. The cold, dead, lidless eyes fascinated her almost as much as they had the monkey. There is a widespread belief among natives to the effect that women often have snakes as their lovers. Nolai wondered how any woman could love such a terrific creature. All the same, she made up her mind that should she ever bear a son she would call his name “Munyu.”

      The party from the “Great Place” was overtaken by night before it reached the trader’s. The witch-doctor, who stalked majestically in front, found it necessary to call a halt every now and then for the purpose of letting off his excitement by violent dancing, during which the bones and bladders which were festooned all over him made an appalling rattle, and by loud yellings. The party found the trader engaged in skinning the snake by the light of a fire in front of his shop, and in the presence of a large number of spectators. The witch-doctor ordered the proceedings at once to stop, and then seized hold of the python’s tail. A wild wrangle ensued. The rest of the party, who rather liked the trader, stood aside whilst he and the witch-doctor engaged in a sort of tug-of-war, in the course of which—Flood being by far the stronger man of the two—the witch-doctor was hauled ignominiously around the premises. The trader, rendered mettlesome by his exploit, absolutely refused to give the carcase up, so the witch-doctor called upon his companions, in terms of their allegiance to the chief, to assist him. A compromise was eventually arrived at. Flood only valued the skin, whereas the witch-doctor knew that the parts most valuable for magical purposes were the head and the gall. Moreover, he did not quite know if the terms of his commission included the killing of the trader in the event of a refusal on his part to give up the prey, especially as the trader was known to be more or less of a favourite with the powerful Gcaleka chief. It took until nearly midnight to settle the difficulty, and then the witch-doctor marched off in somewhat qualified triumph with the python’s head in his skin wallet and the gall-bladder tied securely at the end of a small stick, which he held carefully before him at arm’s length. The Bomvana chief, although he grumbled somewhat at not getting the complete carcase, was, on the whole, fairly well satisfied.

      After making his report the witch-doctor at once went to work upon his magical rites, and he worked with such effect that he was able to administer the gall of the python, in its skull, to his august master next morning. The function took place, with all due solemnity, before daybreak, at the gate of the calf-pen. History does not record whether the potion acted as an emetic or not, but it may be safely assumed that the chief made an exceedingly wry face.

      But this by no means closed the incident. Kreli, the Bomvana chief’s suzerain, came to hear of the slaying of the serpent, and his indignation waxed great when the seizure of the skull and gall by his vassal was reported to him. The head of the Royal College of Gcaleka Witch-doctors worked upon the chief’s feelings to such an extent that his indignation grew to fury. How, he asked, in a wrathful message, could his vassal dare to infringe upon the Royal prerogative in such an unheard-of manner? The message followed with a demand for immediate surrender of the skull, and ended with a threat of war in the event of non-compliance. It was, in fact, an ultimatum.

      The ideas of the Bomvana chief on the subject of suzerainty were probably as different from those of Kreli as President Kruger’s were from those of Mr. Chamberlain, but he wisely refrained from arguing the point. In a penitent and conciliatory message he apologised for what had occurred, and expressed deep regret that, quite outside his orders on the subject, the python’s skull had been burnt into powder for medicinal purposes by his witch-doctor.

      A portion of the powder—all, in fact, that was left—he begged leave to send to his suzerain in the horn of a bushbuck, and he could only hope, loyally, that the same would turn out as efficacious as such medicine was generally supposed to be. This powder had, on the approach of Kreli’s party becoming known, been prepared from the bones of a crow knocked over for the purpose by one of the boys at the kraal with his stick.

      Kreli was by no means taken in by the bushbuck horn and its contents. His indignation at being tricked was boundless, and the only thing which prevented him from sending an army into Bomvanaland to “eat up” the chief was the fact that he was in daily expectation of a declaration of war on the part of Umtirara, chief of the Tembu tribe. But the matter was far too important to be allowed to drop, so he called a great council of the “Izibonda” (literally “poles,” such as those which support the roof of a hut) or elders, as well as the numerous petty chiefs who owned his sway and basked in the reflection of his power.

      A few days afterwards the great council met at Kreli’s “Great Place,” the exact spot of assembly being the “inkundhla,” or gate of the big cattle enclosure. One by one the grey-headed peers arrived, each with a face of extreme gravity, as suited the momentous occasion. Deliberative assemblies of this class are much enjoyed by natives, especially by those who have passed the age of exuberant physical vitality. They give opportunity for the exercise of those faculties of oratory and argument which the Kaffir possesses to such a remarkable degree.

      The matter had now assumed national importance. That the paramount chief should have been tricked out of so favourable an opportunity for adding to his wisdom, his subtlety and his fierceness, particularly at the time when he was on the eve of going to war with another powerful potentate, was unfortunate and inopportune in the last degree. It was subversive to the dignity of the tribe which proudly derived its name from the mighty Gcaleka; it was revolutionary, socialistic, or whatever the current equivalents of these terms happened to be. Why, if such a thing came to be talked of among the surrounding clans, not alone would it bring the Gcaleka nation into contempt, but Kreli would probably lose allies in his coming struggle with the Tembus. Something, clearly, must be done—but what?

      The councillors deliberated for three days without coming to a decision, and it was then that the principal witch-doctor showed a way out of the condition of dead-lock. In the middle of a wild babel, in which everyone was shouting his opinion as he could, this great man arose to his feet and discarded his kaross. Then he aimed a glance СКАЧАТЬ