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diff --git a/75833-0.txt b/75833-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6e9e5a --- /dev/null +++ b/75833-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5602 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75833 *** + + + + + + FAIRY TALES + FROM SOUTH AFRICA + + + COLLECTED FROM ORIGINAL NATIVE SOURCES + AND ARRANGED BY + + Mrs. E. J. BOURHILL + AND + Mrs. J. B. DRAKE + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + + W. HERBERT HOLLOWAY + + + MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED + ST. MARTIN’S STREET, LONDON + + 1908 + + + + + + + + +TO ALL CHILDREN WHO STILL LOVE FAIRY TALES + + +All the stories in this book are real Fairy Tales, just as much as +“Jack the Giant-Killer” or “The Sleeping Beauty.” By this I mean that +they are traditional, handed down by word of mouth. Nobody knows how +old they are, or who told them first. But little Kafir children sit +round the fire at night and hear them from their old grandmother, and +sometimes—but very very seldom—white people are allowed to hear them +too. You see, the Kafirs are afraid white people would laugh at them, +and so they will only begin if they are quite sure you are really +interested. Even then they never like to tell the tales by daylight, +for they say that if they do so a wicked spirit will cause a horn to +grow out of the middle of their forehead, and they will become as ugly +as an Imbula. [1] Sometimes they can be persuaded, but then they always +take a piece of grass and place it in their hair to ward off evil lest +they be bewitched. But the best time to hear the tales is in the +evening when all the work is done. Then a huge fire is made, and when +all the children have played till they are tired, and sung and danced +till they can remember no more songs to sing, they gather in a circle +and lie upon the ground where they can best see the story-teller. And +if the Kafir people were quite sure you would be interested and +wouldn’t laugh, they would give you the best seat of all and let you +hear the finest tales. All the Kafir children know the tales as we know +ours, but not all can tell them well. When many people are there the +best story-teller will be asked to come forward. Most often it is a +woman with children and grandchildren of her own, whom everybody knows +well. She sits in the firelight, and begins quite quietly. But soon she +gets excited, and before long she acts the whole story before you. She +does it so well that if I were to tell you just the name of the story +you could follow it without knowing a word of the language. One +favourite tale is that which we have called “The Beauty and the Beast,” +and there are ever so many different versions of this story. Other +well-known ones are “Nya-nya Bulembu,” “The Fairy Frog,” and “The Fairy +Bird.” + +The little black children all open their eyes with horror when the +monster appears, and you cannot think how glad they are to remember +there are no ogres nowadays who have long red hair and kill and eat +little girls. I don’t think such people ever really existed anywhere, +not even in Kafir-land. They are just like our fairies and ogres; +nobody knows who first thought of them. + +But there used to be many bad Kings, like Semai-mai, who made their +subjects unhappy, and much fighting took place in former days. For all +these stories come from the olden times, when there were no white +settlers in the country, and when the Kafirs lived alone and followed +their own customs. They did not have one great King over all, but were +broken up into tribes, and each tribe had its Chief, who was sometimes +called its King. That is why there are so many Kings and Princes and +Princesses in the tales. They were much commoner then than in our days. + +These tribes often fought against one another. The great aim of every +Chief was to have plenty of men to do his bidding, and plenty of cattle +in his kraal; and if his neighbour were better off, he often tried to +steal from him. You will notice that the Princes in these tales did not +think of conquering new lands to occupy, as we should, but they all +wanted men to fight for them. It seems as if, in South Africa, there +was always plenty of land, but never enough men and women to occupy it. +There was no money then, but a man’s riches were counted by the number +of his cattle and his wives. + +In peaceful times the Kafir men do very little except look after the +cattle. This the women have nothing to do with; they must not so much +as touch the bowls in which milk has been placed. In the old times +fighting was very frequent, so that a Kafir Chief was not so lazy as +many people seem to think. Still, to fight, to look after cattle, and +now and then to set the foundations of a hut, were the only occupations +he had. His women-folk tilled the land, fetched water and wood, and saw +to the cooking. They also thatched the huts, and made the most +beautiful fences of woven reeds. You see, they were often left alone +for weeks and months while the men were away hunting or fighting, so +they had to be able to help themselves. + +A Kafir Chief usually had many wives; this was considered due to his +position, but the wife he married first remained the chief lady in his +kraal and ruled the others. They each had their own hut and managed +their own affairs, but of course there were often many quarrels. Poorer +men had one or two wives only. You see, it was expensive to have many; +for every woman had to be paid for with a certain number of cattle. +This payment was called the “lobola,” and no marriage was legal without +it. This does not sound a very good custom, but it worked well in +practice. Savage people are often very unkind to baby girls because +they cannot fight, but among the Kafirs they were always well treated. +The daughters were valuable to their father because of the dowry they +would bring him, and the husbands thought all the more of their wives +because they had cost them something. + +Most of these stories were told by Swazis, others by Zulus, and two by +the tribes which live on the Portuguese border in the low, wooded +country. “The Shining Princess” came from the Mapoch Kafirs, who +formerly lived in the north. None of the people who tell them lived on +what is called the high veld. A Kafir loves country with plenty of wood +and water, and he likes to build his hut in some green valley on a +well-drained slope facing the morning sun. Such country is found in +Natal and the eastern parts of Cape Colony, and again in Swaziland and +the Eastern Transvaal. In summer there are marvellous wild flowers and +abundant green grass, and in every mountain valley there are clear +streams bordered with luxuriant ferns and overshadowed with beautiful +evergreen trees. All the rain falls in summer amidst continuous +thunderstorms, and it is often very hot. In winter no rain falls for +four or five months; the sky is clear and shining and the nights are +cold, but by day the sun makes everything pleasantly warm. + +The Kafir people still live and flourish in this country. They no +longer make war on one another, for the white people oblige them to +dwell in peace. So now their customs are slowly changing. The women are +gradually ceasing to hoe the lands in the old fashion, and the men are +beginning to plough with oxen; it seems as if in time they will become +tillers of the soil like men in other lands. These stories may soon be +forgotten; so we have written them down for your amusement before it is +too late and no one tells them any more. + + + Barberton, Transvaal, + April 1908. + + + + + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + I. Setuli; or, the King of the Birds 1 + II. The Story of the King’s Son and the Magic Song 18 + III. The Story of the Little Birds who lived in a Cave 28 + IV. The Story of the Shining Princess 32 + V. The Rabbit Prince 43 + VI. The Unnatural Mother 58 + VII. The Three Little Eggs 66 + VIII. The Serpent’s Bride—Part I. 78 + IX. The Serpent’s Bride—Part II. 99 + X. The Fairy Bird 115 + XI. The Cock’s Kraal 132 + XII. Baboon-Skins 139 + XIII. The Reward of Industry 151 + XIV. The Story of Semai-mai—Part I. 160 + XV. The Story of Semai-mai—Part II. 171 + XVI. The Fairy Frog 187 + XVII. Nya-nya Bulembu; or, the Moss-green Princess 198 + XVIII. The Enchanted Buck 212 + XIX. The Beauty and the Beast 224 + XX. The White Dove 237 + + + + + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + +“The old woman continued to gaze at Setuli, and said + three times in a loud voice, ‘Speak!’” Frontispiece +“He turned to the mountain-side and shouted, + ‘Men, appear!’” To face page 17 +“They climbed and climbed till they were above the clouds” 49 +“She came in sight of an enormous hut” 72 +“She ... threw them down a rocky precipice” 121 +“Such was their strength and ferocity that but two or three + escaped alive out of the whole regiment” 137 +“It was a very old woman, leaning on an immense assegai” 183 +“Suddenly a flock of rock-pigeons ... seized the beautiful + Princess and carried her away” 204 + + + + + + + + +I + +SETULI; +OR, THE KING OF THE BIRDS + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Many, many years ago there lived a poor man, named Setuli, who was deaf +and dumb. He had never been able to speak, or understand anything but +signs from his birth, and was despised by all his brothers and sisters. + +Although he was the son of a powerful Chief, no one so much as looked +at him, and he could never hope to win a bride or have a home of his +own. He had but one friend, an elder brother, who gave him food and +shelter, and was always kind to him. This brother was already old, and +was known as a great magician; he knew the properties of every herb, +and the wonderful powers possessed by birds and beasts. When he went to +search for magic roots he always took Setuli with him, for he found his +eyes were quicker than those of any man in the country-side, and his +fingers more deft. + +One day in Spring, when the first rains had fallen and green shoots +were showing among the dry grass, the two brothers went out to gather +roots as usual. They travelled far into the mountains till they reached +a narrow valley full of trees just bursting into leaf. A clear stream +ran down one side among great boulders, ferns were just uncurling their +early fronds, and in sheltered nooks big scarlet daisies shone like +tiny suns. The old magician and Setuli set to work at once, for here +many rare plants flourished. They had been at work an hour or more when +a swarm of beautiful black birds with long waving tails came towards +them, flying in a zigzag course. They settled on the low bushes, +swinging up and down on the branches, and balancing their long tails. + +The two brothers both looked up, and in a grave voice the old magician +said to the birds, “Sakobulas, [2] we go to sleep and we get up as we +used to do.” This was the magic greeting they expected. I cannot tell +you what it meant, but when the sakobulas heard it, they flew away +quite satisfied. The two brothers went on digging, and moved farther up +the stream. Then a great swarm of dear little rooibekkies [3] suddenly +appeared, tiny little brown birds with pink breasts and bright red +bills. They fluttered all round, chattering gaily. + +The old magician again looked up. “Mantsiane,” [4] said he, “we go to +sleep and we get up as we used to do”; and the rooibekkies flew away +quite satisfied. Then the two brothers went on digging again, and +worked for a long time. All at once there rushed upon them an immense +flight of the most beautiful birds, shining from head to foot with +glorious yellow plumage. Round their necks showed a ring of velvety +black, and there were black feathers in their wings. + +“Follow us up! Follow us up!” they cried to the two brothers. “These +are orioles,” said the old magician; “without doubt some great +adventure is before us.” He signed to his brother to leave the roots +and follow the birds. + +They travelled over the mountains for three days and three nights, +following the golden birds. On the morning of the fourth day the birds +led them down a steep mountain-side to a deep green valley through +which ran a wide stream. The birds followed the stream till they came +to a deep clear pool under the shadow of great trees. It was very cool +and very still. Tall reeds and big white lilies grew all round the +water’s edge, and over the pool itself were hundreds of water-lilies, +white and purple. + +The golden birds turned to the magician and said, “Bring your brother +here and tell him on no account to be afraid, no matter what may happen +to him. He must wait by the edge of the pool amongst the reeds and +lilies.” + +The elder brother fetched Setuli and made him understand what was +wanted of him. Then he went away and left his brother alone, wondering +what this new adventure would bring. + +Now, though Setuli had always been despised and set aside by all his +relations, he was in reality both wise and brave. He sat down at the +water’s edge and remained perfectly still. Suddenly the waters moved, +and up rose a huge alligator. It came straight towards him, lashing its +great tail and opening its huge jaws. Its teeth glistened in the sun, +and as it walked up the bank it snapped at Setuli and blinked its +wicked little eyes. But Setuli sat perfectly still and pretended not to +notice. The alligator thrust its long nose almost in his face, snapped +its jaws once more, and then, seeing he showed no sign of fear, turned +tail and slipped into the pool again. + +Setuli remained sitting, waiting to see what would happen next. For a +little while the pool was still; then the whole of the waters moved and +out came a huge ogre, far more hideous and terrible than the alligator. +He was covered with eyes and glared with every one of them at the deaf +man. Then he roared fiercely and sprang towards him; but still Setuli +did not move so much as an eyelid. The ogre shouted again, and then +disappeared, like the alligator before him. + +After that there was no sound or motion for many hours. Setuli sat +watching by the pool. Just as he began to think nothing more would +happen, the water moved quietly and out came a Fairy in the shape of an +old woman. She stood in the waters up to her waist and gazed at Setuli. +On her right hand there perched a beautiful black sakobula, on her left +hand a little rooibekkie, and on her head was a most wonderful oriole, +bright as the rising moon. The old woman continued to gaze at Setuli, +and said three times in a loud voice, “Speak!” + +When she uttered the third word Setuli felt a new power had come to +him. He could speak like other people, and he could understand all the +Fairy said. + +“Go to your brother,” said she, “and show him you are cured. I have +known both of you long and have determined to help you. Whatever you +want in the future you shall receive; you have only to ask for it.” The +Fairy vanished, and the three birds flew away. + +Setuli soon found his brother, and the old man’s astonishment was great +when he heard the deaf man speak. Setuli in his turn was much surprised +to find the three swarms of birds again, just as he had left them on +his journey out. They flew in three separate companies, and at the head +of each company was one more beautiful than the others, evidently the +leader. Setuli soon saw these were the very birds who had accompanied +the Fairy; no doubt she had sent them for his use. He thought deeply +for a time and then made new plans. The result you shall soon hear. + +The two brothers journeyed on till they saw a great storm rising. The +sky was blue-black, and a noise could be heard like continuous thunder. + +“That is hail,” cried the magician; “we shall be caught here in the +open. Nothing can save us from death.” + +“Do not fear,” said Setuli; “wait and you shall see.” He gave a command +and instantly one thousand huts appeared. His brother gazed in +astonishment and delight. Then he said, “What do we want with so many +huts? There is no one to shelter but you and me.” + +“I shall want huts for my soldiers and people,” said Setuli. Then he +turned to the companies of birds and changed them all with one word +into warriors. The sakobulas became his first regiment. They were great +tall men clad in leopard skins, holding in their hands assegais [5] and +huge shields of ox-hide. But one thing remained of their former state. +Each man wore on his head a huge cap of the long tail-feathers of the +sakobula. They stood in line, saluted their Chief, and marched to their +huts. Then came the golden orioles. These were Setuli’s bodyguard, and +were even finer than the sakobulas. Their skins were of the silver +jackal; round their knees and arms were bracelets of white ox-tails, +and on their heads were long black ostrich-plumes. Before them stood +the golden oriole, bright as the rising moon, now the general in +command next to Setuli himself. Last of all came the rooibekkies. These +became the little umfaans, the lads who carry all the baggage of the +army and wait on the grown men. Setuli sent them all to their huts just +as the first hailstones struck the ground. + +For an hour no one stirred. The sound of the storm was like continuous +roaring thunder; the hailstones were as large as great plums, jagged +and sharp as crystals. Every tree was stripped of its leaves and all +birds and beasts who could not find shelter were killed or maimed. When +the storm ceased the hail lay in icy heaps in every hollow, and the air +was frosty and cold as in mid-winter on the high mountains. A raw mist +rose from the valleys, but Setuli felt no cold. His heart was great +within him, for now he had proved his powers. He called out his troops +once more and reviewed them with joy and pride. “We shall go forth and +conquer a great kingdom,” he said to his brother. “I shall yet be a +rich man.” + +The regiments shouted “Bayeta,” the salute which is given only to the +Chief, and swore to follow wherever Setuli led. Generals were appointed +for each division of the army, the three leaders being the birds who +sat on the Fairy’s hands. There was no trouble about provisions or +shelter, for Setuli had only to ask for food and there was abundance +for all. + +He now determined to search for a kingdom to conquer. He left the +country of mountains and wooded valleys, and went up to the great +tableland to search for new people to overcome. He travelled with his +army for a year, but never saw so much as one little hut. The land was +empty; on every side was waving grass extending as far as eye could +reach, but no path appeared nor any tree. Great herds of buck sometimes +came towards them and then followed fine hunting; but no man or woman +could they find though they travelled for many months. At last they +turned back towards the low country, and at the end of a year they came +to a range of mountains overlooking an immense plain. Below they saw +great cities surrounded by fields full of mealies. [6] Thousands of +cattle roamed on the hills; they had but to descend and seize all they +wanted. + +Setuli bade his men camp in a great valley which could not be seen from +the plain. Then he sent spies to find out how strong the cities were +and how big was the King’s army. But first his brother the magician +gave them a wonderful potion which made them invisible, so that no one +should suspect them. In the evening they returned in great fear. “The +people,” cried they, “are all deaf and dumb; they have but one arm, and +walk on one leg only. Not only that, but as soon as we approached them +we found we were becoming deaf and dumb also, so we ran back as quickly +as possible.” + +This troubled Setuli very much. “Don’t go near these people,” said he. +“Let us get right away from the towns and go hunting in the mountains.” + +Now Setuli was very wise, and had besides the advice of his brother, +the great magician. He had determined to take possession of all the +inhabitants of this country and drive away all their cattle, but he +felt sure some powerful monster ruled over them who would first have to +be discovered and destroyed. The only thing to do was to devise some +means of attracting him to the camp and killing him unawares. A big +hunt was arranged, and an immense number of birds were taken of all +shapes and colours. Setuli drew a feather out of the tail of every bird +and made a huge many-coloured ball, which he wore as a head-dress and +as a protection for himself, for magic power was in the feathers. Then +he allowed preparations to be made for the great feast which followed +the hunt, but gave special directions to his men. + +“Do not eat all the birds,” he said. “Place half of those you have +killed in front of the huts. Put first a whole bird, then the head of a +bird you have eaten, in long rows all round the camp, and then put a +treble row about my own hut.” + +The men carried out these commands carefully, and soon the whole camp +was surrounded with dead birds of every hue and shape. When all the +feasting was over and the camp quite still, Setuli crept out of his hut +and hid behind the screen which sheltered the entrance. It was full +moon, and the country shone like silver. Sharp inky black shadows +showed near the river where the bushes grew, and round each hut was a +dark narrow ring in which no object was visible. Setuli crouched behind +his screen of reeds; the camp was absolutely still and deserted. +Towards midnight he heard heavy footsteps approaching. Every now and +then they stopped, then they began again. Setuli stooped lower; without +doubt the monster who owned all the cities in the plain was +approaching. The footsteps were not even; they resembled some one +hopping very heavily. Presently a huge black figure came in sight, +holding a long assegai. He had but one leg and one arm, and stopped +greedily at every hut to eat the birds which lay there. As he came +nearer, Setuli saw that he was of unimaginable ugliness. His eyes were +divided; one was in the middle of his forehead and the other at the +back of his head, so that whichever way he stood he saw you, and you +could not escape him. At the entrance of Setuli’s hut he stopped, gave +a snarl of delight at the sight of so many birds, and sat down to enjoy +them. + +He had but one arm, so he laid his assegai down just before the +door-screen. Setuli asked for no better chance; he rose quickly, seized +the assegai and stabbed the monster in the neck. He rolled over with a +groan and lay quite still, apparently dead. + +With a joyous heart Setuli roused all his men, and at break of day led +them into the great plain. To their surprise they found the people +walking on two legs and talking as well as themselves. The death of the +ogre relieved the people from the bonds of a wicked enchantment, and +they were only too glad to go with Setuli and his men, they and all +their cattle. By evening all was in order for the march, and at +earliest dawn the company started for the mountains. + +They had gone a whole day’s journey, and had reached a point high above +the great plain, when Setuli discovered that he had lost his ball of +feathers. He did not wish to turn his followers back, but neither could +he bear to travel farther without his head-dress, for it had magic +power, and it might be long before he could get such another. So he +bade his army go on under the leadership of his brother, and went down +the mountain-paths as fast as possible till he came to the valley in +which they had camped. There he saw a sight which made his heart stand +still. The ogre whom he had left for dead was sitting up alive and +well, and round him danced and romped hundreds of little ogres, all +with one leg and one arm like their father. They tossed the magic ball +of feathers from one to another and shouted with glee. + +Setuli saw he must risk all and trust to his swift feet to get away. He +ran in suddenly, seized the ball of feathers, and turned quickly away +up the mountain-path. As he touched the ball, all the little ogres +vanished like smoke. Only the big one remained, and for a moment he was +dazed and did not understand what had happened. Then he got up and +stamped after Setuli with astonishing speed. It was all Setuli could do +to keep the distance between them, but he was strong and knew the +paths. They leapt from rock to rock, in and out among the trees, till +they came to the grassy slopes which led to the great pass. They +climbed all day till the sun began to set. Then at the very top of the +mountain range Setuli found his army camped along the side of a deep +ravine. Below was a valley many hundreds of feet deep, lined with huge +rocks and great trees. Beyond, many weary hours away, rose another +mountain with green slopes marked with the course of many streams. + +“Bayeta!” cried the army when they saw their Chief. “My men,” cried +Setuli, “we have not a moment to lose. Our enemy is behind us and we +shall soon be in his hands. Let every man, woman, and child fix his +eyes on the mountain-side opposite and then leap with all his might.” + +Setuli could hear his enemy behind him as his people leapt together +into the air. He ran forward, touched the cattle with his ball of +feathers, and they too jumped with all their might. All landed safely +on the other side, and placed the great ravine between them and the +terrible ogre. Setuli jumped last, just as the monster, breathless and +exhausted, reached the edge of the precipice. + +Twilight set in, and when the sun rose next morning Setuli and all his +people found themselves in perfect safety, and set forth once more on +their journey. They travelled all day, and at sunset came to the most +beautiful valley they had ever beheld. It lay far below them, wide, +green, and fertile. Down its centre flowed a clear stream shaded by +great tree-ferns, and bordered with thick green bushes covered with +scarlet flowers. The valley extended as far as eye could see towards +the setting sun; all the hills on either side were closely wooded and +well watered. Setuli turned to his brother and said, “This is the +finest country I have ever seen. We will settle here with all our men.” + +At the end of the valley was a very large kraal wherein dwelt the Chief +of the country. Setuli determined to win him over to his side and make +him his man. + +So he took his bodyguard and marched down the mountain-paths to the +gate of the kraal. Just as they approached the Chief’s hut he struck +every one of his men on the leg with his magic assegai. They at once +began to walk every man on one leg. + +“Never have I seen such magic power,” said the Chief. “You shall be our +King and protect us against all our enemies.” + +“I will show you yet more marvels,” said Setuli. He struck his men once +more and they all walked like ordinary human beings. While the Chief +still stared in open-mouthed wonder, he turned to the mountain-side and +shouted, “Men, appear!” + +Instantly from top to bottom of the great hill stood line upon line of +magnificent warriors, clad in leopard skins and holding white shields. +They lifted their right hands and shouted “Bayeta!” so that the cry +echoed like thunder from side to side of the valley. + +Then Setuli shouted once more, “Men, disappear!” and at once the +hillside was empty and silent. + +“You see,” said Setuli, “I have men at my command whenever we need +them.” + +“You shall certainly be our King,” cried all the people. So Setuli and +his brother and all the men and women who belonged to them stayed in +the valley, and lived in great peace and happiness all their lives +long. + + + + + + + + +II + +THE STORY OF THE KING’S SON AND THE MAGIC SONG + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Once upon a time there lived among the mountains a great King; and he +had many cattle, which he loved. Among them was a fairy ox, with horns +which curled right across his forehead, and with a voice like thunder; +this ox led the herd, and at his call all the cattle followed him. In +the day-time they fed in the tall grass in the valley, and at night +they were brought home to the big kraal, round which were the huts of +the King and all his men, so that they might be safe from any harm. And +the fence of the kraal was strong and high, and the men watched so that +no evil befell the cattle. + +Now the King loved the cattle so much that he made one of his own sons +herdsman. Every morning this boy took the cattle to graze in the +pasture, and at sunset he drove them back to the kraal. All day, in the +hot sunshine, he watched the herd to see that none strayed and were +lost, and to take care that no enemy came in to steal. And because the +grass in summer grew tall, high above his head, and thick, so that he +could not see, he would climb on to one of the great rocks that lay +scattered about the valley. For the rocks were large, large as a hut, +and in the shadow beneath them it was cool and the little rock-ferns +grew; but on the top, where the sunlight fell, the little lizards lay +and caught flies. + +Often the boy grew tired as he watched the herds, and longed to lie in +the warm sun and sleep; but he dared not, for he feared his father’s +anger if he should lose him an ox. + +But it happened one day that as he watched the cattle a Fairy appeared +to him in the shape of a very old woman. She came and talked to him, +and he told her how he had always watched lest the cattle strayed, and +how he feared lest his father’s foes should come and kill him and take +the cattle. + +Then the Fairy pointed to a stone, smooth and large and round, like a +hut that showed up above the grass of the valley. The boy looked, for +he had never seen the stone before. “Come,” she said, “this is your +stone. See, it is so smooth that no one can keep his footing on it or +climb it. But you shall be able. As you grow the stone will grow, and +from it you can watch all the valley, and no enemy will be able to hurt +you, for they could not climb it. But beware that you do not fall +asleep on it, for then all your cattle will be stolen.” + +She also taught him a magic song, “Come, cattle, come, all you cattle +come to me,” the melody of which was so enchanting that all cattle who +heard it followed the singer. Then the Fairy vanished away. + +So the boy became a splendid herdsman, and none of his cattle were +lost, for every evening he sang to them and they followed him to the +kraal, and none strayed. Nor could any be stolen, for on the rock he +watched in safety. But at last one hot day he fell asleep on the rock, +and the enemy who were watching saw him sleeping, and crept down from +the hills and drove off all the cattle. When he woke up not one head of +cattle could he find. He sang “Come, cattle, come,” but it was in vain; +they did not hear him. He wandered about the valley looking and singing +till the sun began to set, and then in shame and fear went to the kraal +alone. He went to his father and told him all, but the old King was +very angry and drove him from the kraal, saying, “Never come back +unless you bring my cattle with you.” + +So the poor boy wandered back sadly to the valley, and climbed upon the +big stone and lay there in the moonlight crying, for he had lost his +cattle and he had lost his home. And as he lay some one touched him, +and he looked up and saw the old woman, the Fairy, who had given him +the stone and taught him the charm. “I know what has happened,” she +said; “you have slept, and what I foretold has come to pass—the cattle +are gone.” “And I am driven from the kraal till I find them,” he said, +and cried again. “Do not despair,” she said, “but go to the Chief who +has your cattle and ask to be his man.” + +So the boy rose, and all night long under the moon he travelled between +the grey mountains, up and down by little winding paths between the +grass and rocks, through the streams and bushes, till in the morning, +when the sun rose, he came to his enemy’s kraal, and within it he heard +his father’s cattle. + +So he entered the kraal and went to the Chief and offered to be his +man, and the Chief made him herdsman of his own cattle. Every morning +he took them out to pasture and every evening he sang to them the magic +song and brought them home, and none strayed and were lost. Thus he +served the Chief many years, till he was a man full grown. And always +he thought of his father’s kraal, and looked how he might take the +cattle and return. At last the chance came. The great festival of the +first-fruits was at hand. The women made the beer, placed the +calabashes in a row outside the kraal, and on the day appointed the men +and women went out to gather the first ripe maize and Kafir corn from +the lands, and the children went to get wood for the cooking of the +feast, and no one was left in the kraal but an old woman and the King’s +son, who was in charge of the cattle. + +When all were gone he took some sango, the herb that intoxicates men +and makes them sleep, and powdered it very fine. Then he went to the +row of calabashes in which the beer stood waiting for the evening’s +feast, and put some into each calabash, and went away and waited till +all came back. + +When the Chief and his people returned there was great rejoicing. A hut +of green boughs was made for the Chief, in which he sat, and the +first-fruits were all brought to him, and a branch from each offering +was tied to his arms or neck. Then his wise men brought him a drink +made of herbs and water from the sea, and gave it to all present as a +sign that the feast was to begin. Every one ate of the new corn and the +fresh nuts, and drank of the new beer. Only the King’s son drank none, +and at last all fell asleep; and when the evening came and the moon +rose not a man or woman was left awake. + +Then the King’s son stood up and climbed on the wall of the cattle +kraal, and sang the magic song, “Come, cattle, come to me,” and opened +the gate of the kraal. At once the cattle rose up and walked straight +past the huts and the sleeping men and out into the country, following +the King’s son; and as they went the fairy ox with the crumpled horn +bellowed loudly, and at his call all the cattle came from the east and +the west and the south, [7] and followed the King’s son. + +And he went towards his father’s kraal. + +When his enemies woke in the morning they could not find one head of +cattle in their kraal, nor yet in all the surrounding country. The old +Chief felt sure when he heard this that the King’s son had taken them +away, and he bade all his men arm themselves and follow the culprit. So +his men gathered with their shields of ox-hide and their assegais, and, +finding the path of the oxen, followed it. It did not take them long to +overtake the King’s son, for the cattle moved slowly; and by the +evening of the second day they were in sight of the cattle, and +rejoiced over the thought of their capture. + +The King’s son, who saw his enemies moving on the mountains behind him, +was in great fear and knew not what to do, for the cattle could not +travel fast. He led them down the mountain along the banks of a little +stream where the trees grew—tall thick thorns with yellow flowers like +small pincushions, and wild figs with tiny fruit—and tall reeds covered +the banks, and from the trees the monkey ropes hung down to the rocks +and water. And everywhere grew the fern, and the clear water ran and +raced between the stones, slipping from pool to pool and playing with +the leaves and rushes; and the bright flies hung over it in the little +ladders of sunlight slanting through the trees. And there the King’s +son hid his cattle amongst the bush, and sat in the grass under a big +fig-tree to think what he should do. + +But he could think of no way to save the cattle. And the evening drew +on, and the shadow rose over the creek [8] and crept up the +mountain-side; and the frogs began to croak and the crickets to sing, +and everywhere was the humming of the gnats. And he sat under the +fig-tree and looked across the valley to the mountain where his enemies +were; and he knew that in the morning they would come and kill him and +take his cattle. + +A bat flitted round him in the darkness, so near that he looked up, and +there before him he saw the Fairy. “Do not despair,” she said; “your +task is nearly done. Obey me and all shall be well. Go now and kill a +white ox, skin it, and cut the hide into ten thousand little white +shields, and I will find you soldiers.” So he slew the ox and skinned +it and made of the hide ten thousand little white shields. + +Then the Fairy cried to the frogs who lived near the stream, sitting +under all the stones from the top of the hill to the bottom, and whose +voices could be heard all across the valley. “Frogs!” she cried, “will +you take these shields and do as the King’s son bids you?” And from all +over the valley they cried, “We will!” So the King’s son gave them the +shields, and all night long he drilled them in the moonlight. When he +called “Woo-ooh,” they rose up, shouting, with their shields extended; +and when he cried “Boo-ooh,” they fell down and lay hidden. + +Before the dawn he placed them in a long line on the mountain-side +where the enemy would see them. + +As the first company of the enemy appeared the frogs rose together, +raised their shields, and croaked “Woo-ooh,” with a sound like thunder; +so great, indeed, was the sound that the enemy fell back to their Chief +in terror. “There is an impi [9] of many thousand men across the +creek,” they said; “no one can stand against them.” + +The Chief then sent a larger company, but they returned with the same +tale. + +Then he went himself with all his army; but when he saw the thousands +of white shields and heard the war-cry, fear seized his heart. “It is +better to return without our cattle than lose our lives,” he said, and +ordered all to go back home again. + +So the King’s son was safe. He thanked the frogs, gathered his cattle +together and reached his father’s kraal. The King received him with +great honour, gave him a Princess for his wife, and made him Chief of +all his sons; but every night the King’s son sang his magic song as +before, and kept the cattle in safety. + + + + + + + + +III + +THE STORY OF THE LITTLE BIRDS WHO LIVED IN A CAVE + +A ZULU NURSERY TALE + + +Once upon a time there was a big cave in a hillside, in which lived +hundreds of little birds. There were fathers and mothers and lots of +little ones. Each had his little kraal with a hut no bigger than your +hand, and a fence all round beautifully woven of tiny reeds. One day +all the mothers went out to get food, and said to their little ones, +“Be very good and quiet, and make the huts clean and tidy while we hoe +the lands.” + +Then they went out to see to their tiny fields in which they grew their +food—little mealies and tiny sugar-cane, pumpkins no larger than a nut, +and nuts no bigger than grass seeds. The little birds were very good; +they swept the huts out beautifully and tidied them up. Then they +cleaned little shells ready to cook the food, and got water in tiny +leaves. When all was done they sat down and waited for their parents to +arrive. + +Suddenly a blackbird came to the door of the cave. He had a long sharp +beak and very long claws. He put his head in and cried, “Fir-r-r-r! +Fir-r-r-r!” first to one side and then to the other in a high clear +voice. All the little birds put their heads out of the tiny huts at +once to see who the intruder might be. + +The big bird then said, “All you little birds must turn out at once. +This cave belongs to me.” + +At that the little birds were very angry. The boldest of them flew +straight at the blackbird to turn him out, but he was pecked right in +the neck. A little stream of blood appeared, as black as charcoal, and +the little bird fell dead. + +Then the big bird attacked many others. He broke the leg of one, he +picked out the eyes of another, he broke the wing of a third. When he +had frightened and scattered them all he flew away. + +That evening the mother birds came home, but could not make out why the +cave was so silent. “What is wrong?” they said. “There is no +twittering, no rustling of wings. Something must have happened.” + +Great was their grief when they found one little bird dead and so many +others crippled and hurt. “Whoever has done all this?” they cried. Then +the little birds told their tale. + +“It was a wicked bird with black feathers and a long beak. There he is +again at the door.” + +The mothers turned round and flew in a body at the marauder. But he +just cried “Fir-r-r-r! Fir-r-r-r!” and flew straight up in the air far +out of their reach. + +The next day the blackbird came and destroyed all their little lands. +Not a blade of mealies or sugar-cane remained. The mothers were in +despair, and that evening they said they must leave the cave and find a +safer home elsewhere. + +Suddenly a tiny bird entered the cave, no bigger than your finger-nail. +He cried “Tweet, Tweet,” ever so sweetly, and flew straight to a little +bird who was only a hen. “You,” said he, “shall kill the blackbird.” + +Every one cried out that the little bird was not nearly strong enough. + +“You shall kill him,” said the tiny bird. “Fly straight at his head and +pick out his eyes. Then you can easily kill him.” + +The little hen took heart of grace and promised to be brave. + +Next morning the big bird, sure that this time the cave would soon be +his, put his head in at the door and called in his high wicked voice, +“Fir-r-r-r! Fir-r-r-r!” + +Out flew the little hen straight at his head and picked out his eyes +before he knew what had happened. Then the fathers and mothers all +threw themselves on him and in a few minutes he was dead. + +After that all the families lived in much peace and happiness, and were +never troubled any more. + + + + + + + + +IV + +THE STORY OF THE SHINING PRINCESS + +A ’MSUTO STORY + + +In a green valley far away among the mountains there was once a most +beautiful kraal. The hut was bright green, finely thatched with grass, +the floor within of red earth, firm and beautifully polished. All the +cooking-pots were of red clay, and stood in good order round the walls, +and with them were shining green calabashes full of milk and cream. +Fine green mats lay on the floor, save in one corner where there was a +little mat woven of mountain-grass the colour of gold. Round the hut +was a high green fence, also of exquisite neatness; indeed all was in +perfect order, and no kraal was kept like it in all the country round. + +For it was the home of a great Chief’s wife. Her husband had been dead +many years, and had left her all alone in the world with one little +girl named Maholia, who was only three years old. The Queen had been a +most beautiful woman in her day, and as the little girl grew up she was +just as lovely as her mother. The greatest care was taken of her, and +she was soon as good and obedient as she was charming. Her mother never +married again; indeed it would not have been fitting, as she had been a +King’s wife. She lived only for her child, and they loved one another +dearly. Maholia was the envy of every little girl in the country. +Everything she had was the colour of the golden moon, her necklaces, +her bracelets, and the gold circle she wore round her neck. As she grew +up she became more and more noted for her beauty and charm; she was so +lovely that she dazzled the eyes of all beholders, and was known as the +Shining Princess. Time went on, and when she grew to womanhood many +lovers came forward to ask her in marriage. There was not a Chief’s son +for many days’ journey who did not long to make her his wife. But +neither the Princess herself nor her mother cared for any of them, nor +would they hear of marriage. + +Then one day came an embassy from a very powerful King. He was +searching everywhere for a beautiful girl to be his son’s wife, but +though his wise men had travelled far and wide and many girls had been +brought to his kraal, not one had been found to his mind. He decided to +seek yet farther afield, and sent his chief Induna [10] with attendants +in great state to see all the Princesses in far countries who were +famous for their beauty. After many months of travel the Induna began +to hear talk of the Shining Princess. He decided to visit her, though +he feared to be disappointed once more. But at the sight of the green +kraal his hopes rose. At the door the Princess met him. She was shining +from head to foot in the bright sun. Round her neck were thick bars of +red-gold copper; copper and brass rings adorned her shapely arms from +wrist to elbow, and appeared again on her slender ankles, reaching +almost to her knees. Round her waist was a girdle of golden beads, +twisted into a thick rope behind, and in front hanging in a long, +glistening fringe over her short apron of skin. This was again +embroidered in squares with gold and copper beads. Over her pretty +shoulders hung her cloak, also embroidered in circles of gold and +bordered with a wide band of shining beads. Even her snuff-calabash was +gold-coloured, of jackal-skin. Every movement was full of grace, and +her laughing lips and bright eyes showed the kindness of her heart. + +When the Induna saw this beautiful woman clad in gold and shining like +the rising moon, he said, “This is the Princess I have been seeking! +This is indeed the wife for our great King’s son!” + +He begged to see Maholia’s mother, and formally demanded the hand of +her daughter. Many days passed in discussion. The Queen was loth to +part with her child, but the Induna talked so wisely of his master’s +power and riches, and the bravery and wisdom of the bridegroom, that +she at last consented. The embassy then returned home to the King, and +told him with great joy of the beauty and goodness of the Shining +Princess. The King bade his Chief rest while he gathered together the +marriage-gift of cattle for the Queen-mother. These consisted of one +hundred beautiful animals, at the head of which marched a fairy ox. He +was magnificent, the King’s great pride, but he was considered only due +payment for so fair a Princess. He was black as charcoal, save for two +long white horns, and between his shoulders burned a steady light, +which illumined his path by night and gave him magic power. + +When all was ready the wedding-party set out to fetch the bride and +deliver the tribute due to her mother. The Queen was delighted with the +cattle, and especially with the fairy ox. + +“Here,” said she to her daughter, “take this ox with you. He is my +present to you; your journey will be long and you will often be glad +to ride him.” + +Then she turned to the King’s men and said, “Do not leave my daughter +alone. I am afraid of what may happen to her. If you leave her, I shall +know at once, for the corner in which she has always sat at home will +crumble away.” + +The wedding-party promised faithfully to guard Maholia with every care. +The Princess and her mother parted with bitter tears, and she and her +attendant maids set forth with the King’s men. + +For two days all went well. But on the third day the men came upon +hundreds of buck of every kind, large and small, and behind these +appeared great herds of elephant and giraffe. The country was full of +game. The King’s men could not resist the temptation, and started off +to hunt; such abundance they had never seen in their lives before. In +the end even the girls joined their party, and all were soon in hot +pursuit. The Shining Princess was left all alone seated on an ant-heap, +the fairy ox by her side. That very moment, as her mother sat in the +hut thinking anxiously of her absent child, the corner on which the +golden mat had lain cracked from end to end and crumbled away. + +In the meantime the wedding-party went on gaily hunting; the farther +they went the more fresh buck appeared. They forgot all about the bride +and continued the chase for days. The poor bride sat alone till she was +discovered by a party of cannibals, who seized her and carried her +away. They endeavoured also to secure the fairy ox, but he gave one +great leap into the air out of the midst of the enemy, and flew like +the wind to the Princess’s mother. + +The poor Queen met him at the kraal gate, for well she knew some evil +had befallen her daughter. The great ox stood still while she knelt +before him and heard his tale. + +“But where is she now?” cried the Queen; “where have they taken her?” + +“That is all I know,” said the ox. “The cannibals took her, and so I +came with all speed to you. But do not despair; all will yet be well.” + +Meanwhile the King and his son waited and waited for the expected +bride. Weeks and months passed by, and they began to fear some great +calamity. Then, one by one, their men straggled in. They told their +story in great shame; they had left the Princess and forgotten her. +They could not find her again, though they had travelled far and wide. +The King had them all put to death. Then he called his Chiefs together +and asked their advice. They all decided that the bridegroom himself +must go with a body of picked men and search for the bride in her +mother’s home. + +The Queen received them with much joy, but her grief was great when she +heard they knew nothing of her daughter. She told them of the return of +the fairy ox and all his tale. + +“Be of good cheer,” said the Prince. “I will take the fairy ox myself +and will never return till I can bring your daughter with me.” + +Then the Prince took the ox and set forth on his journey. He travelled +for weeks and months, but no trace of the Princess could he find. One +day he came to a marula-tree covered with shining yellow fruit. + +“This would be good to make cider,” said the Prince. “I will eat some.” + +He had scarcely eaten a few berries when a deep voice came out of the +tree. + +“What do you want?” it asked. + +“I seek for the Shining Princess,” said the Prince. “Am I on the right +way?” + +“Go on,” said the marula, “till you come to the big fig-tree.” + +The Prince journeyed yet farther among country overgrown with bush, +till by the side of a stream he came to an immense tree covered with +little red figs. They even grew on the roots, and its leaves were so +thick that no sun could pierce them. He sat down in its deep shade and +said, “I seek the Shining Princess. Am I on the right way?” + +“Go on,” said the fig-tree, “till you come to a big river. Beyond it +lies a great forest, and in that forest you will find the Princess.” + +The Prince started forth full of joy, and followed the course of the +stream. The next day he found himself in full view of a deep river; it +was in flood, and so wide that he could not hope to cross it. + +“Climb on my back,” said the fairy ox; “I will carry you over.” + +The Prince did as he was told, and the ox plunged into the water, swam +across, and then flew like the wind over a huge plain. In the far +distance they saw the forest. Every hour it grew larger, till at last +they reached its outskirts, when the Prince found the trees were taller +and thicker than any he had ever seen. He could find no path at all, +and the trees met over his head so that only a dim light filtered +through. High ferns grew on every side, and here and there he crossed +tiny streams fringed with maidenhair. He wandered on for hours without +so much as seeing the sun, always hoping to find some open glade. At +last, far away, he saw a shining pool of water. So he went forward, +guided by the distant shimmer through the trees. As he drew nearer he +saw that the pool was surrounded by reeds. One tall reed stood +quivering in the middle. The gleam of the water grew yet brighter and +more golden, till, as he burst through the last thicket, he found it +was no pool at all, but the Shining Princess herself seated in a circle +of tall grass. + +The Prince hailed her with delight, for never had he hoped to find such +beauty. As for Maholia, she knew at once that this was her lover; no +one else could have shown such skill and bravery. Besides, the fairy ox +was there once more, the light between his shoulders burning bright +with joy. + +There they sat for hours among the fern, telling one another of all +their wanderings. Maholia, it seemed, had been taken by the cannibals +to the edge of the great forest, for they were travelling towards the +country of their King, which lay in that direction. One dark night she +escaped them and had lived ever since in the midst of the great bush. +When she had told her tale, the Prince had to relate his adventures, +and then he told the Princess how beautiful she was, and how well worth +every danger. And that she wanted to hear over and over again. + +Indeed, they might never have left the forest had not the Princess +suddenly remembered her mother and her long anxiety. + +“But how am I to take you home?” said the Prince. “I cannot hide you, +and every one will envy me such a beautiful woman, and try to steal you +from me.” + +“I can help you,” said the ox, nuzzling the bride affectionately. “I +will change the Princess into an ugly old man. No one will know her +then, and we will travel like the wind.” + +Straightway the Princess became a little old man. She and the Prince +mounted on the back of the fairy ox, and they all flew together over +forest, river, and mountain for seven days, till they reached the very +door of her mother’s home. + +Then at last all was safely over. The Shining Princess became a bride, +and she and her husband went to their own kingdom. They reigned in +great peace and happiness, and the fairy ox was their devoted follower +and adviser all the days of his life. + + + + + + + + +V + +THE RABBIT PRINCE + +A SHANGANI TALE + + +Many, many years ago there lived a Rabbit and a Duyker who were great +friends. The Rabbit was cunning and wise beyond all animals; the Duyker +was just an innocent little antelope, who was fond of men, and so never +went far from a kraal. + +One day the Rabbit said to the Duyker, “Why shouldn’t we have lands and +grow our own mealies and calabashes, just like the men who live in +yonder kraal? I know where there is good ground.” + +The Duyker agreed at once, and the two friends had soon chosen their +patch of land. They then hoed it well and set their mealies, their +calabashes, and their ground-nuts, just as they had seen them done by +the wives of the neighbouring Chief. The Duyker had the biggest patch, +and his mealies were wonderfully tall and fine. When autumn drew near +the Rabbit took a bag every day and went to get corn and nuts. But he +never got them from his own field, for that still remained untouched. +One day the Duyker went to see how his crops were getting on, and found +a great part of them gone. He instantly suspected the Rabbit, and +accused him of stealing. + +The Rabbit denied the accusation at once with great indignation, and +said, “I have not touched your lands. The King of Kings has done it, +and you will never catch the thief.” + +“Then where do you get your mealies? They do not come from your own +lands.” + +“What do you suppose we live near a kraal for?” said the Rabbit +cheerfully. “I eat the Chief’s mealies.” + +The Duyker was much puzzled, especially when he found only a day later +that his crops had been attacked again. “I shall soon have nothing +left,” said he to the Rabbit. “Do think of something I can do.” + +“Let us make a trap,” said the Rabbit. “Perhaps we may catch the thief +after all.” + +He took some hairs out of a horse’s tail and tied the whole length in a +succession of slip-knots. Then he laid it on the ground, fixed it with +tiny sticks, and sprinkled earth all over, so that no one could see the +line. Then a few mealies were scattered about lightly, so that birds +might be tempted to scratch and entangle their feet in the knots, which +would tighten at once when they struggled to free themselves. + +Next morning the Rabbit and the Duyker went together to the +mealie-patch to examine the trap. To their great joy they found a most +beautiful bird held tight by the fine black threads. It had very long +wings, and was beating them ineffectually in great distress. The Rabbit +seized the knots with his teeth, while the Duyker held the bird; but it +was too quick for them. As soon as it felt the knots were loose it +slipped away from the Duyker with one stroke of its powerful wings, and +soared high up into the clouds. + +“Never mind,” said the Rabbit; “we will set the trap again to-night.” + +The next day they found the beautiful bird again caught in the long +line of knots. She was not alone, but had with her a great swarm of +birds as beautiful as herself. They circled round and round, watching +the Rabbit and the Duyker as they took the culprit and began to untie +the knots. This time they were more careful, and their prey had no +chance of escape. They carried her to their hut before removing the +slip-knots, and examined her very carefully. She was very handsome, but +the most remarkable thing about her was a very long feather which was +in one wing only. The wise Rabbit instantly guessed that this was the +source of her strength. He pulled it out, but to his astonishment the +bird at once disappeared, and a beautiful Princess stood before him. He +instantly hid the feather, and asked the Princess to remain in the hut. +He would treat her well and bring her food every day. + +So the Princess stayed in the hut, for now that she had lost her +feather she could no longer go back to her home in the clouds. The +birds flew to the door of the hut every day and asked her when she was +coming home again. + +“Have patience,” said the Princess. “I will return in good time.” + +“Where is your long feather?” asked the birds. “Have you lost it?” + +“It is quite safe,” said the Princess; “the Rabbit has put it away.” + +The Princess lived thus for many days. The more she saw of the Rabbit +the more she admired his wisdom and cunning. “What a pity,” thought +she, “that he is only a Rabbit! No Chief can compare with him in the +whole of my father’s dominions.” And as she was a Fairy and had magic +power, she determined he should be a Rabbit no longer. + +One day when the Princess and the Rabbit were alone he said to her, “Do +you know who took your feather?” + +“Yes,” said the Princess, “you took it.” + +“You are quite right,” said the Rabbit; “do you know where I put it?” + +“No,” said the Princess, “but I am quite sure it is safe with you. +Please keep it, but just let me see it for one moment.” + +The Rabbit could not resist her, she was so beautiful; so he fetched +the feather. The Princess took it in her hand but did not attempt to +fly away. She just laughed and threw it at the Rabbit. + +Instantly he became a handsome Prince, to the Princess’s great joy. The +Rabbit Prince himself saw that this made a great change in his +prospects. He could now woo the Princess as an equal, but he had no +lands to give her. Suddenly he remembered the beautiful plot of ground +which belonged to the Duyker. “I am a man now,” said the Rabbit. “I +will kill the Duyker and give his lands to the Princess.” He lay in +wait, slew the little antelope, and brought it home to the hut. They +had buck that night for supper, and as they sat eating he said to the +Princess, “Come, will you marry me?” + +The Princess said, “Yes, I will indeed. But let us keep it secret. +These birds who come from my home must never hear of it, for my parents +would never allow me to marry a man from the earth.” + +In the meantime the birds got tired of waiting for the Princess, and +said to one another, “It is all the fault of the Rabbit Prince. We must +kill him or the Princess will never see home again.” They sought +counsel with the Mouse and the Woodpecker, who were reckoned the wisest +magicians in the country, and lived near at hand. They told of a safe +poison to put in the Prince’s food. But the Princess knew her people +well, and warned the Prince in good time. He ate nothing, and escaped +in safety. The Mouse and the Woodpecker in the meantime became so fond +of him they soon refused to do him any harm, and made their home close +to his hut, so that they might see him every day. + +But there came a time when the Princess longed to go home again. She +said to the Prince, “Would you like to see my father and mother?” + +“Very much,” said the Prince. “Where are they?” + +“They live in the sky,” said the Princess. “Go and fetch me the feather +once more.” + +The Rabbit Prince brought the feather again, and gave it to the +Princess. She set the feather on the ground. It instantly began to grow +and became taller and taller, till at last it reached the very clouds. + +Then they began to climb up. The Prince and Princess went first, and +the Mouse and the Woodpecker followed, for they said they must be with +the Prince, to protect him in case of harm. They climbed and climbed +till they were above the clouds. There they came to the mouth of an +enormous cave, but it was shut by a great big stone. The Princess was +in despair. “How ever can we roll this aside?” she cried. + +“There is nothing I cannot nibble through,” said the Mouse. “Let me try +for a few minutes.” + +He nibbled hard at the corner of the stone, but had to come back, for +he had made no impression whatever. + +Then the Woodpecker stepped forward. “Let me try,” said she. “I make my +little nest in wood; the crevice my beak cannot enter has yet to be +made.” She tapped carefully all round the edge of the great stone, and +suddenly cried: “This is the way to do it.” She had found a tiny swivel +on one side of the stone, no longer than your finger. This she pulled, +and the stone rolled back and the cave stood open. + +The Prince was just about to lead his bride in when a huge monster +appeared. On his head were two horns, and on each horn was the head of +a human being. He had eyes all over his body from head to foot, and +every eye glared at the Prince with a green light. But the Princess +just drew out the long feather once more and dug it right into his +face; and he vanished away like smoke. + +“Now,” said she, “we can go forward safely.” They walked through the +cave and at the other end found an opening, which looked out on just +such another world as ours. There were wide green valleys and flowing +streams, and in front was a big kraal with beautifully woven huts. This +was the Princess’s home, and she ran towards it joyfully. Her father +and mother appeared in human form to greet her, and all her friends, +whom the Prince had only seen as birds, crowded round her as men and +women, each more full of rejoicing than the other. + +“But where did you get this man you have brought with you?” asked her +father when the first greetings were over. + +“I have stolen him from below,” said the Princess, laughing merrily. + +Her father frowned; he had never had anything to do with the +inhabitants of earth, and was very angry at the idea of any intercourse +with them. When the Princess explained that the Rabbit Prince was her +chosen husband, her parents and all her friends were much annoyed, and +said that they could never hear of any such marriage. The Princess +still pleaded hard for her lover; she told her parents of his wisdom +and power, and said that no girl ever had so clever or so noble a +husband; but the old Chief simply replied that no daughter of the +clouds had ever married a man from the earth. The Prince must be sent +back home. + +But as the Princess still clung to the Prince and refused to dismiss +him, her people decided that he must be killed. A big feast of welcome +was arranged, and many days were spent in preparation. The Mouse was +never far from the cooking-pots, and ran in and out all day, picking up +savoury morsels. No one saw him, but nothing escaped his little black +eyes. On the morning of the feast-day he saw all the food set out in +dishes ready for the guests. The Prince’s portion was placed in two +little black pots and decorated with green leaves. When no one was +looking, a strangely-dressed old woman came up, a witch for certain, +and powdered it with some curious stuff, but touched no other pot. + +Just as the feast was about to open the Mouse crept up to the Prince, +ran up his back and whispered in his ear: “Eat none of the food +prepared for you; drink the beer—that is the only safe thing.” + +The Prince obeyed, and thus escaped the first danger. But the people of +the clouds, much disappointed, assembled all their greatest magicians +and made fresh plans. “We will arrange a hailstorm,” said these wise +men. “Let the Prince go out on the great plains to-morrow. We will see +he does not come back alive.” + +Next morning the King of the Sky sent the Rabbit Prince on a journey to +another kraal across a wide plain. When he had travelled some three +hours and was many miles from any shelter, great clouds appeared on the +horizon. They were of the deepest blue-black, and every minute they +spread farther, till the sun was blotted out. And then far away came a +distant continuous rumble of thunder. It never ceased for a moment; the +sound was ever sharper and more threatening, and grew closer and +closer. “That is not thunder,” said the Prince; “it is hail, and there +is no shelter for miles. I shall never see the Princess again.” + +“Do not fear,” said a voice at his ear, and he turned and saw the +Woodpecker. “Lie down on the ground. I will protect your head, for I +also am a magician.” + +So the Prince lay down, and the little Woodpecker spread out her wings +and hovered over his head. One great hailstone came as if shot from a +gun, then another and another, and then they came in hundreds and +thousands, large as fowls’ eggs, jagged and icy-cold, with a sound like +the roar of many torrents over endless precipices. Such a storm had +never been known in cloudland. + +When the Prince returned unhurt and cheerful his enemies were +dumbfounded and more enraged than ever. But they still persevered. They +held a big indaba [11] under a shady tree, attended by their chief men +and all their magicians. A royal hunt was arranged to last for many +days. During their absence from the kraal the Prince was to be killed +by an assegai, as it were by an accident, for none wanted the Princess +to think her husband had been murdered. This time they thought they +could not fail, for they would be sure to have numberless opportunities +in the heat of the chase. But the Woodpecker sat unseen in the boughs +of the tree and heard everything. She was a wise bird and a great +magician, and the instant she understood she flew to the empty hut of +the first wizard of cloudland and there made a charm. She took the fat +of the mamba, the most deadly of all snakes, the fat of the python, who +is the biggest of snakes, and the skin round the lungs of the tiger. +These she mixed together and placed in three little bags of +python-skin, such as could easily be hidden. Then she flew straight to +the Rabbit Prince with the bags in her mouth. + +“Take these,” said she, “and wear them always. New dangers threaten +you.” + +The Prince obeyed and went gaily to the hunt. He was away for many +days, and every day some Chief attempted his life, but all the assegais +fell back powerless. The charms had rendered him invulnerable. + +He returned home safe and sound, but that evening he told the Princess +it was useless to struggle any longer. Her people would never rest till +they had killed him. + +The Princess listened in sorrow. Then she said, “You are quite right. I +had hoped they would see in time how clever and brave you are, but it +is no use. We must steal away quickly to earth to-night, and seek our +fortune below. Call the Mouse and the Woodpecker while I make the +ladder ready.” + +The Princess drew out the magic feather and held it point downwards +towards the earth. It at once began to grow, and in a few minutes the +point rested close to the Rabbit Prince’s hut. Then the four friends +climbed down and left the land of clouds for ever. + +Next morning they held a council. “Something must be done to find men +to serve under us,” said the Prince. “I want a kingdom and cattle for +the Princess; she cannot live in a hut alone.” + +“Those three little bags will do all you want,” said the Woodpecker. +“You have only to wish and everything will be given you.” + +“Then,” said the Prince, “let me have beautiful huts, strong willing +maids to wait on the Princess, and a wise woman to advise her.” + +Straightway there appeared the most perfect huts you can imagine, +filled with everything they could want. Thirty strong cheerful girls +stood before them, and a dear old Queen, who knew everything a wise +woman should, and had the kindest heart in the world. + +Then the Rabbit Prince felt his wife would be safe and well cared for, +so he left her under the special protection of the Woodpecker, and he +and the Mouse went forth to seek soldiers and cattle. + +Nor did they seek in vain. They soon heard of a mighty King who +possessed warriors and cattle in thousands. By the power of the little +bags the Prince overcame him and took all his warriors and cattle back +to the Princess. + +Then he established a great kingdom, and to reward his two friends he +made the Mouse a Prince and the Woodpecker a Princess. He gave the +Mouse soldiers and sent him forth to conquer. I am afraid I have +forgotten the adventures of the Mouse. All I know is that he became a +great Chief, and that to this day both he and his wife are devoted to +the Rabbit Prince. + + + + + + + + +VI + +THE UNNATURAL MOTHER + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Many, many years ago there lived a bride and bridegroom. Now among the +Kafir people a newly-wedded pair always spend their first year with the +bridegroom’s mother, for there are many important ceremonies to be +completed before the bride can be given a home of her own. + +So the bride and bridegroom lived in a little hut close to the hut of +the old mother. Every day they all went out to hoe their land, on which +they grew maize, sugar-cane, pumpkins, and calabashes. The calabashes +are good to eat when they are green, and when they are ripe the skin +becomes quite hard, and they make beautiful drinking-vessels. The +mother worked at her patch, and the young people at a separate one of +their own. And every day before they started the young wife made +beautiful food for her husband, and left it in the hut ready for his +return from work, when he would be hungry. There was green +mealie-porridge flavoured with the juice of sugar-cane, young calabash +and spinach, all set out neatly in brown clay pots, and cool native +beer in a big calabash. All was made ready for the evening, when they +would return and her husband would be hungry. But the old mother saw +the beautiful food and longed to have it. So when the young people were +hard at work on their patch she took off her kilt of black ox-skins and +hung it on the handle of her pick. Then she said to the pick, “Pick, go +on working till I return.” This the pick obediently did, and thus +whenever the son looked towards his mother’s patch some one appeared to +be working there. + +When all seemed in good order the old mother ran away back to her son’s +hut, entered in and put on his beautiful kilt of jackal and cat-skins, +and all his bead ornaments, which the bride had made for him. She took, +too, his long staff carved at the head, such as no woman uses, and hung +with tails of many animals. In this way she deceived all who passed, +and sat down to her meal, singing a gleeful little song to herself:— + + + “I am the bridegroom, + I wear the bridegroom’s clothes, + All his beautiful food is for me.” + + +Then she sat down and ate up everything. When she had finished she went +back to her mealie-patch and hoed busily till it was time to go home. +The bride was dreadfully disappointed when she found all the beautiful +food gone which she had made for her husband, for she was anxious to +show him how clever a cook she was, and so to win the praises of all +his family. + +So the next day she tried again, and did yet better. But in the evening +the food had disappeared once more. This happened several days in +succession. So at last the bride and bridegroom consulted together, for +no one knew who the thief was. + +“I have a plan,” said the bridegroom. “To-morrow morning you will make +the food as usual, and we will start out together very early and say we +are going to be out all day. Then in an hour or two I will come back +secretly and watch by the hut. In that way I shall be sure to catch the +thief.” + +So the next morning the bridegroom returned secretly and sat near his +hut to see what would happen. He could hardly believe his eyes when he +saw his own mother come running back from the field. When he saw her +enter the hut, put on his dress, and begin to eat his food, his horror +was such that he could hardly speak. He rose immediately, went into the +hut, and accused her of being the thief. + +“Alas, it is true,” moaned the old mother. “The food was good, and I +was tempted. What can I do to be forgiven?” + +“For this crime,” said the son, “you deserve to die, for you have +sinned against nature. But I will not kill you. Only you must go far +away from here and travel into strange countries, and you must never +come back till you have found the water in which there are no frogs, no +fishes, and no animals of any kind. When you have found it, fill this +calabash with it and bring it back to me.” + +So the mother took the calabash and set forth on her journey. She +walked for many days over dry and barren country. At last she came to a +beautiful clear pool. She went down to the edge of the water and struck +it with her staff, crying out, “I have been bidden by my son to find +water in which there are no frogs, no fish, and no animals of any +kind.” + +Instantly she heard a loud croaking all round the pool, and hundreds of +frogs came out to look at her. So then she knew that this was not the +promised water. She took up her staff and calabash and journeyed on +once more. + +And after many more days she came to another pool. This was beautifully +clear, and shone bright blue, like the sky itself. But directly she +came to the edge and struck it with her staff, hundreds of little +silver fishes put their heads out and told her this was not the pool +she was seeking. + +Then she was very sad, and thought she would never see home any more. +But she took up her calabash and started again. And after many days of +travel in a dry sandy country she came to a big forest. Here the trees +were very tall, with big glossy green leaves, and underneath were thick +bushes all covered with thorns. But the forest was full of little +paths, which crossed and recrossed one another, and up and down them +passed all kinds of animals. On one side of the forest lay a mountain, +and towards this she journeyed. After a long tramp through the bush she +reached its foot. There at last she saw the most beautiful water. It +fell in a cascade right down the mountain-side, and it glittered like +the moon. Below it formed a pool clear as crystal, and when the old +mother struck it with her staff there was no sound or ripple. + +Then she knew she had reached her journey’s end. So she sat down to +rest under a big tree close to the pool, and took snuff. Then she began +to observe the animals who went and came busily by many paths. +Presently they approached and sniffed at her, and at last they said, +“Do you know where you are? This forest and this water belong to a +great King. He allows no one even to set foot in it, and if he finds +you here you will die.” + +Then the old mother tried to rise and get away quickly. But she found +she could not do it. While she had been sitting down the limbs of the +tree had grown round her and held her fast. She knew then nothing could +save her, and burst into tears. + +In the meantime the animals consulted together as to what could be done +for the old woman. The Lion, their King, was absent in the depths of +the forest, so the Elephant spoke first. + +“We must choose wisely,” said he, “for she may help us all. Let the +Giraffe protect her; his neck is so long that he can see through the +trees easily.” + +But the Giraffe refused, and suggested that the Tiger was better. He +was so strong and his claws so sharp that no one under his care would +be touched. + +“That is quite true at night,” said the Tiger, “but in the day I sit +with my eyes half-closed and see nothing. No! let the Rabbit be sent; +his eyes are large and bright, and no one in all the forest is half so +clever as he.” + +The Rabbit consented, and went up to the old mother, saying, “Dear old +mother, why are you crying?” + +“I am crying,” she answered, “because I shall never see my home again. +I stole my child’s food, and can never be forgiven till I have found +water in which are no frogs, no fish, and no animals of any kind. Here +I have found the water, but the tree has grown round me and I cannot +move.” + +“I will help you,” said the Rabbit. He set to work at once with his +pretty little teeth, and soon he had nibbled through the branches which +grew round her, and she stood upright again. Then he filled her +calabash from the pool and said, “Get out of the forest as fast as ever +you can, before the King sees you, and go straight home. Do not stop to +thank me; your escape will bring us great good fortune.” + +The old mother took the water and hastened away. After many days she +reached home, and gave the water to her son. At that very moment the +forest behind her disappeared, and all the animals in it. Instead +appeared a big, big town full of people. All the little paths became +winding streets, and the trees became beautiful round huts, woven with +great skill. The animals became men and women, who lived happily +together in peace and plenty. Many years before a wicked enchanter had +bewitched them, and they had been freed by the old mother who had +carried the water to her son. + +As for her, she was forgiven, and awarded every honour in her own home. + + + + + + + + +VII + +THE THREE LITTLE EGGS + +A SWAZI TALE + + +It was very early morning in mid-winter. The sun was just rising over +the great plains in a silver haze which melted into pale gold as the +wide stretches of veld came into view, burnt dry with the summer heats. +The rains had long ago been over. The sun shone every day and all day, +with a pleasant temperate heat in a clear heaven. The whole country +appeared golden, save where the water-courses ran, and a few great +evergreen trees stood up in vivid contrast to the bleached summer +grasses. + +By the side of a great fig-tree there was one poor little hut +surrounded by a plaited fence. Close to it was a little patch of +cultivated ground, where a few dried mealie-stalks were still standing. +The air was very cold and raw, and chilled you through and through, but +the sun had barely touched the top of the great tree when a woman came +out hurriedly from the hut and passed through the kraal gate. You could +see she was a married woman by her full kilt of black ox-skins and her +curious peaked headdress. Besides, she carried on her back the dearest +little baby girl, wrapt in a goat-skin and half asleep, and by her side +ran a merry little boy. The mother herself was still young and pretty, +but her face was worn and thin, and if you had looked close you would +have seen that her arms were covered with scars and burns, as if she +had been badly used. + +She stood for a few minutes and looked first towards the wide plains. +Then she turned to the other side, where great hills rose up, ruddy and +golden in the early sun. She seemed to hesitate; then she turned to the +mountains, and was soon on a tiny pathway, which led by many windings +to a wooded gorge hundreds of feet above the plains. She did not sing +as she went, and often cast frightened looks behind her. But no one +followed, and after a time, as the hut disappeared from view and the +sun made all things warm and pleasant, she grew less anxious and went +on her way more quietly. + +For she was running away from her husband. She had been married now +four years, and every year he had been more unkind. He not only worked +her very hard, and gave her scarcely anything to eat, but also often +beat her, and had even branded her with hot irons till she screamed +with pain. She was good and obedient, and tried hard to please him, but +he only became more and more cruel to her and her children. Two days +before he had gone off to a big dance in a far-away kraal. The poor +woman so dreaded his return that she decided to run away and beg her +living as best she could. She knew there were great Chiefs on the other +side of the mountains, and big cities; she was a good worker, doubtless +they would give her food. + +She walked on and on, and the baby girl woke up and began to laugh and +play. They were now following the course of a stream, but only a tiny +trickle of water remained, and the ferns were withered, and the thick +bushes dry and leafless. All at once the mother saw a fluffy white nest +hanging on a long bough. + +“How pretty!” said she. “That will be the very thing to amuse baby.” + +She went to the bough and detached the soft white nest, while her +little son looked on with much interest. To her great surprise, for it +was yet many months to spring-time, she found it contained three little +eggs. + +“Hold it fast,” said she to her little one, “and do not smash the +little eggs on any account.” + +Then she journeyed on once more. The sun was sinking fast, and the air +grew colder and colder, for on the hill-tops there is sharp frost every +night. No hut was in sight, though they were now on more level ground, +and the poor mother had no covering but her one goat-skin, and no food. +“Where shall I rest to-night?” said she to herself. “There is nothing +to be seen but the open country.” + +Then she heard a tiny voice at her ear, “Take the road to the right; it +will lead you to a safe place.” + +She turned and looked, and found it was one of the little eggs in the +fluffy white nest. In very truth she saw there was a tiny pathway to +the right, which she had not noticed before. She took it at once, and +just as the sun disappeared and the white frost began to show, she +found a beautiful hut under the side of a great rock. No one seemed to +live there, but it was warm and cosy, and all ready for her use. +Beautiful karosses [12] of ox-skin and goat-skin hung on the walls; +food was there all ready prepared in little red pots, crushed mealies +and monkey-nuts; and in the calabashes was abundance of delicious thick +milk. [13] The little boy and baby girl cried with delight, and you can +imagine how pleased the poor mother was. The little nest was first +carefully laid aside. Then both mother and children ate a good meal, +for they were very hungry. The little boy fell asleep at once, covered +with the warm skins, but his sister cried and would not lie down +quietly. So her mother tied her on her back once more and sang the +Kafir cradle-song, which is as pretty a thing as you will hear. She +swung gently to and fro, moving her arms as well in time to the low +chant:— + + + “Tula, mtwana + Binda, mtwana + U nina u fulela + U nina u fulela + Tula, mtwana.” + + “Be quiet, my baby; + Be still, my child; + Your mother has gone to get green mealies, + Your sisters are all gone gathering wood, + So be quiet, baby, be still. + Your father has gone a-walking, + He has gone to drink good beer, + Your mother is working with a will, + So be quiet, baby, be still.” + + +Soon the tiny black head leaned forward, the little round arms relaxed, +and baby girl was fast asleep. The tired mother laid her down, and in a +few moments was dreaming by her children’s side. + +The next morning they set forth again, much refreshed; they continued +on the same path, and baby girl carried the little eggs as before. +Towards mid-day they came to a place where two ways met. The mother +stood looking at the two paths for a long while, uncertain which to +take. Then a tiny voice spoke in her ear. It was the second little egg +this time. “Take the road to the left,” said he. + +So she turned and followed the left-hand path till she came in sight of +an enormous hut, three times as big as any she had ever seen before. +She went straight up to it and looked in at the door, full of +curiosity. It was like no hut she had ever seen. The calabashes and +pots were all blood-red in colour, and very thin; as the breeze came in +at the door they swayed like bubbles and nearly fell, for they were as +light as air. One big pot was blown right across the room, and as the +poor mother’s eyes followed it she all but screamed aloud. For, on the +other side, lay a huge monster, fast asleep. He was immensely tall and +very stout, his body was covered with tufts of brick-red hair, on his +head were two horns, and his long tail lay curled across his knees. He +was an Inzimu, [14] without any doubt, and if he awoke he would kill +the mother and both her babies and eat them up. + +“Whatever shall I do?” cried the mother, as she ran from the door. “My +little ones will both be killed.” + +Then the third little egg spoke up. “Do you see that big stone? Carry +it with you, and climb on top of the hut.” + +The mother looked around, for many rocks were near. She soon saw a +round white stone, just of a size to drop through the thatched roof of +the hut and kill any one it fell on. But it was far beyond her power to +lift it. + +“However can I pick it up?” said the poor woman. “It is so heavy.” + +“Do as I bid you,” said the egg. + +So she stooped down and tried to lift the stone. To her great surprise +she found it quite light, and took it to the back of the hut. Then she +lifted her babies on to the roof, and climbed up herself afterwards, +with the stone in her hand. + +“Now let the stone drop on top of the monster,” said the egg. + +The mother was just peering through the thatch to find the exact spot +under which the monster lay, when the door opened and in came a second +ogre, dragging after him several dead bodies. + +“Now we shall certainly be seen,” said the mother; “all is over.” But +she kept quiet, and did not move. The second Inzimu began to chop up +one of his victims for the evening meal. Once he stopped, sniffed the +air, and said, “There is something good hidden in this hut, but I can’t +make out where it is.” + +He looked all round carefully, but never thought of the roof, and +presently put his supper on to boil, and sat down to watch it. Soon +both Inzimus were fast asleep. The mother then looked at her stone, and +said, “Here are two Inzimus. I cannot kill both. What am I to do next?” + +“Come down as quietly as you can,” said all the little eggs at once, +“and run with the babies as fast as possible.” + +She slipped quietly down, for the hut was round, and the little boy +helped her with the baby. In a few minutes they were away, trembling in +every limb, but the Inzimus did not wake up, and soon the big hut was +out of sight. + +The poor mother breathed again, and hoped that now at last she would +find a kraal and human beings to talk to. The path wound in and out +among bushes. They grew ever thicker and more thorny, great trees began +to appear, and it was soon impossible to walk save in the one +direction. The path gave a sudden turn, and there, under a huge +evergreen tree, was a horrible ogress. She lay right across the path, +fast asleep, for the afternoon sun was warm. No doubt she was on her +way home to the big hut. She was even uglier than the Inzimus, for she +had a hideous snout like a wolf’s, and one little horn just between her +eyes. She snored most terribly, so that the branches of the tree shook. + +Then the mother thought her last hour had really come, for she could +not return, and the bush was too thick on either side for her to +escape. But the little eggs did not desert her. Two little voices +sounded together. + +“Look on your right: there lies a big axe.” + +She looked, and sure enough a great axe lay winking in the sun. It was +so large that it must have belonged to the ogress, but the mother +seized it quickly. + +“Now,” said the little eggs again, “take that in your hand, go softly +to the tree and lift your babies into the low branches. When they are +safe, climb up yourself and creep along the great arm which is over the +monster’s head.” + +The mother crept softly to the tree and lifted her little son up into +the branches. The trunk was smooth and round like that of a beech at +home, and the branches were many and not far from the ground. So the +little boy was able to hold his baby sister when they were safe among +the leaves; the mother mounted herself and crept forward right over the +monster’s head, the axe in her hand. She nearly fell off with fright, +but the little eggs spoke again. + +“Aim the axe at the monster’s head.” + +She threw it with all her force and hit the ogress just above her horn; +but she was only stunned, not killed. + +“Slip down from the tree,” said the third little egg, “and chop off the +monster’s head quickly before she revives.” + +The mother was down in a moment, ran forward with desperate courage, +and in a few minutes she had severed the monster’s head from its body. + +When it was done she stood back to recover herself, but could scarcely +believe her eyes as she looked. For out of the monster came men, women, +and children, cattle and goats, one after another, till they filled the +path and had to pass along to open ground. Many hundreds appeared, for +the ogress had eaten every kind of animal and whole families of men in +her wicked life. When all had come there were enough to people a great +kraal. Each one on his arrival turned to thank the poor mother and her +children, and when all were there the leaders came forward to ask her +to be their Queen. + +“But I should never have done it without the three little eggs,” said +she, and turned to show them the little white nest. She barely touched +it with her hands when it vanished away, and instead appeared three +handsome Princes. The eldest took her hand and said, “You have freed us +from a wicked enchantress by your courage. Your cruel husband is dead; +he was killed in a quarrel the day you fled from home. Be my wife, and +we will rule over these people for ever.” + +So the poor mother and her children found a happy home and much honour. +And all the people shouted for joy because they had now both a King and +a Queen. + + + + + + + + +VIII + +THE SERPENT’S BRIDE + +A SHANGANI STORY + +PART I + + +In the great wooded plains which lie between the mountains and the sea +there was once a most wonderful river. It was broad and deep, filling +its banks from side to side; great fig-trees and white-flowering thorns +marked its course; and both winter and summer you could tell it afar +off by the masses of evergreen foliage which followed its many +windings. The land through which it flowed was fertile, and vast herds +of goat and sheep fed on the neighbouring hills, for the grass was +sweet and good. + +A powerful tribe had settled in these regions and had built themselves +a big city on the side of a hill which sloped up from the river-banks. +There was abundance of wood and good water, and the city was well +drained and faced the morning sun. Below the great kraal the +mealie-fields extended almost to the river-side. The people had plenty +of cattle, and their King was the richest and most powerful in the +whole country. He was also a great hunter, for in the wide plains big +game abounded, and his lion and tiger skins were wonderful to behold. +Indeed, he had but one trouble. He and his people depended on the river +for their daily supply of water, and every now and then it would +suddenly cease to flow. The whole body of the river would dry up, +sometimes in winter, but quite as often in the height of summer, when +rain fell daily and the great white clouds rose from the horizon every +noon. No one knew why this strange thing should happen; sometimes no +water would appear for many days together, and all the women had to +walk long hours through the forest to get fresh water from a distant +stream. + +Only one Princess could always fill her calabash, no matter how dry the +river-bed. She was the most beautiful of all the King’s daughters, tall +and graceful, with a skin like satin and eyes that danced like sun upon +the water. But she never went with her sisters to the river, and no one +knew the source of her supply; they supposed she had found some hidden +pool which never quite dried up, and did not wish to share her secret. + +Now the river had flowed steadily for many months; spring had come and +then summer; the cornfields were in full ear, and the great tasselled +mealies stood higher than a man’s head. Every day all the Princesses +went down to the river to fetch water and bathe in the great Red Pool. +Only Timba still went alone, but her sisters had long ceased to notice +her love of solitude. + +Then one day a strange thing happened. The morning was cool and fresh +after a heavy thunderstorm, the tall grass was drenched with rain, and +all the maidens from the neighbouring kraals came down to the river +singing and laughing. There were tall, well-grown women, and slender +girls, and even little maids of five and six, each with a calabash on +her head. They walked in single file, for the paths were narrow, and +they shouted gaily to one another across the mealie-fields. Only Timba +was silent and walked last of the line behind her sisters. + +At the river-side they all stopped, and cries of dismay broke from +every mouth. The bed of the stream was all but empty, and rocks that +were only visible at the end of winter stood high and dry. A tiny +trickle of water still ran in the great Red Pool, but its banks of +crimson earth were bare, and the waving reeds and bulrushes on the +margin showed their mud-stained roots. In a few hours the little water +still remaining would have disappeared in the heat of the summer sun. +With heavy hearts the girls ascended the course of the stream to see if +clear water still remained, but none could be found. Even the little +water-courses lined with fern, which fed the great river, were dry. + +“It is no use,” cried they. “We must take what water we can to-day, and +to-morrow we must seek fresh streams.” + +They returned home, their calabashes half full of muddy water, and told +the bad news to the King. Only Timba’s water was clear as crystal, and +her jar was so full that she had placed branches of the white-flowering +thorn round the brim to prevent its spilling over as she walked. + +The King was much disturbed to find that the river had failed once +more. He set all his greatest magicians to work, and promised +unheard-of rewards to those who would bring water into the river-bed; +but no incantations were of any avail. Rain-doctors came from far away +and cast their magic spells; but though great storms arose and passed +over the land, the river-bed remained empty, and even the deepest +water-holes dried up. But Timba could still get water from the river, +and every day she went down alone as often as she wished and returned +with her brimming calabash crowned with green leaves, her eyes brighter +than ever and full of mysterious joy. + +Then her sisters asked at last: “Where do you get your water from?” + +And Timba made answer: “I get it from the great King of the Waters. He +commands the whole river and all the streams which run into it, even +the tiniest creeks. He is angry now, and that is why the river is +empty.” + +Her sisters were still puzzled, for none of them had heard of any such +King. + +In the meantime winter approached with its unclouded skies. The crops +were gathered in; the nights grew cold, and the air all day was fresh +and crisp. No rain would fall now for many months, and the King and all +his wise men knew that the river must remain empty till the spring. +They were in great trouble, for they did not know how they would keep +their cattle alive during the winter, and they even feared for +themselves. + +Judge then of their amazement when they found one morning that the +river was full to overflowing as if in the height of the summer floods. +No rain had fallen in the whole of the country; the people could only +rejoice and wonder. That same day the beautiful Princess came running +up from the river laughing and singing, and called her sisters +together. + +“What is it? Tell us the news,” said they, for they saw that something +exciting had happened. + +“I am going to be married,” said Timba joyfully. + +“But to whom? No suitor has been here for many months.” + +“To the great King of the Waters,” said she with pride. + +“Who is he?” cried her sisters, “and where does he live? It must be far +from here, for no one else has ever spoken of him.” + +But Timba would not tell them. To all their questions she only nodded +her head mysteriously, and said, “I know.” + +That evening as the sun went down she slipped out of the kraal and went +to the river-bank. The mealies were long since gathered, and the little +path was beaten down hard and firm as the floor of a hut, for no rain +had fallen this long while. She passed the Red Pool, now full from end +to end, and followed the course of the river for half an hour or more +till she came to a great white thorn-tree surrounded by a tangle of +creepers and flowering shrubs. There she stopped and pushed through the +overhanging branches till she reached the water’s edge. She stood +there, knee-deep among green lily leaves, and looked out on a wide +expanse of water. It was still and dark and very deep, and the current +was barely visible on its smooth surface. The banks enclosing it were +of black earth, and at the water’s edge grew great clumps of arum +lilies forming a thick belt of green. In summer the Black Pool was a +place of wonderful beauty; now there were no lilies, and scarcely a +blossom lingered on the bushes. A tiny crescent moon was sinking in the +west, and the reflection of its silver horns quivered in mid-stream. + +As Timba waited and watched a tiny ripple broke towards the bank and +the head of a great serpent arose. He was velvety black, save for two +red circles round his glittering eyes, and his neck rose many feet out +of the water. He swam straight to the Princess, who did not scream and +run away but rose to greet him eagerly. + +The serpent coiled himself beside her on the bank, and his eyes shone +with joy. + +“Do not let us wait any longer,” said he. “Make all preparations for +our marriage. As mid-winter approaches I will cause the river to rise +twice in full flood. Then you will know I am waiting for you, so lose +no time.” + +They sat and talked till the little moon sank down and all the stars +came out. Then the serpent rose up and swam away down stream, his head +held high and his huge length extending far behind it. + +This was the King of the Waters, who ruled the whole length of the +great river, and it was he who had courted the Princess night and +morning as she came to fetch water. Timba watched him out of sight; +then she went home. + +The next day she and all her companions began to get ready for the +marriage. Some of them wove mats out of the golden-coloured grasses, +fine and soft enough to roll up into a tiny space. There were small +mats to grind corn on, so that no meal should fall on the ground and be +wasted, and there were other little mats to cut up meat on. Then there +were long mats for sleeping on; these were made of bulrushes, and were +to be put away all day and brought out only at night. The girls also +took lengths of thin cloth, bought from far-away traders along the +coast in exchange for ivory and horn, and fringed them with strings of +many-coloured beads. These were cloaks for the bride, and were as +graceful and pretty garments as you could wish to see. Then there were +girdles to be made of coloured beads; and many necklaces and all sorts +of dainty ornaments fashioned with twisted wire. For Timba was a +Princess, and she was going to marry a King. + +All this took much time. Timba was at work all day, for in winter the +sun sets early, and for some weeks she never went to the river at all, +nor did she see her strange lover once. But one morning towards the +shortest day a young man came running in from rabbit-hunting in the +hills shouting that the river was in full flood. Timba’s heart leapt, +for this was the first of the promised signs. She worked still harder +and hurried her maidens, for now only a few days could remain before +the appointed time. + +At last all was ready, and she went down to walk by the river. The +flood had passed, and only a tiny sluggish stream trickled in the midst +of a wide stony water-course. The Princess walked slowly and looked up +the river to see if there were any signs of the second flood. Suddenly +she heard a whistling call from a clump of bushes. + +“Ping! Ping! Ping!” + +It was the call of her bridegroom, but he was nowhere to be seen. She +then looked up the river once more and noticed for the first time that +the stream was widening. Every moment it became fuller; great boulders +which a minute ago were high and dry were already half covered, and a +dull roar could be heard far away. The high reaches were already in +flood, and the King of the Waters was waiting for his bride. + +Timba ran home and sought out her bridesmaids. + +“Come quickly,” said she, “and bring everything we have made, but do +not let any one see us. The great King of the Waters is waiting for me +at the river.” + +The bridesmaids ran hither and thither collecting all the pretty things +they had made, while the bride arrayed herself for the marriage. In the +Shangani country no one wears the kilt of black ox-skins. So Timba put +on a kilt of cotton cloth, striped in red and blue, which reached to +her knees, and a beautiful girdle of beads. Then she knotted on her +left shoulder a cloak of dark blue cloth heavily fringed in red and +white. The cloth was very thin and hung in folds about her graceful +form. Then she put the most beautiful bead necklaces about her neck, +and covered her arms with bracelets cunningly woven of shining brass +and copper wire. When all was done it would have been difficult to find +a prettier or more pleasing sight. + +Then the girls met again and ran by hidden paths to the river without +speaking a word to any one. There the bridesmaids stopped and called to +one another in astonishment. For the river was in full flood and was +now over half-a-mile wide. Great trunks of trees swept past in wild +disorder, their branches tossing on the yellow waters; now and then a +dead buck floated by, and at every moment huge boulders swept past amid +a deafening roar. The girls hurried on to the Black Pool. There the +great thorn-tree still stood out, but the water had already reached its +lower branches. Overhead the sky was clear and cloudless, and the +parched veld, dotted with grey mimosa and leafless shrub, extended for +endless miles to the transparent horizon. + +“Never have I seen such a flood,” said one; “surely the river is +bewitched.” + +“There has been no rain these three months,” cried another; “where can +the waters have come from?” + +“Go home quickly,” commanded the Princess. “Leave everything here and +say nothing about me at the kraal.” + +The bridesmaids were no sooner out of sight than the Serpent King +raised his great flat head out of the water. As the Princess watched +him he grew taller and taller, till at length he stood upon his tail +and towered above her. His head reached to the top of the high trees, +and his body was like a black shining pillar. Then he fixed his bright +eyes upon her and said, “Never be afraid of me, no matter what I do.” + +“I will never be afraid of you,” said the Princess. + +“Are you quite sure?” said the serpent. + +“Quite sure,” answered the Princess. + +Then the serpent descended again and coiled himself beside her. + +“And now,” said he, “what of the lobola? [15] I must send that to your +father, or our marriage is not complete.” + +“There is plenty of room in the great cattle-kraal,” said Timba. “They +will understand when they see the oxen that my marriage-gift is come.” + +“Wait here,” said the serpent; “I will return at moonrise.” + +That night he sent the cattle, and at daybreak there was great +commotion in the city. The Princess had disappeared and the air was +full of strange bellowings, which came from the cattle-kraal in the +centre of the town. One hundred splendid oxen were discovered there, +finer than any one had ever seen before. No one had seen them enter, +and no herdsman was with them; for many a long day the mystery remained +unsolved. + +In the meantime the Princess waited. Darkness fell early, and for a +long while only the stars could be seen in the clear sky. Then the long +line of the eastern plains grew clearer and sharper, and slowly the +wonderful winter moon arose. + +At that very moment the King of the Waters raised his head from the +pool and darted towards his bride. + +“The lobola is paid,” he cried. “Come, let us go.” + +Then Timba rose and the serpent lifted her on his back. She put her +arms round his neck and they started to swim down the river under the +great white moon. They passed the silent kraals and the empty fields, +and then they came to wide silvery plains stretching as far as eye +could see. The river flowed without sound. And all the time the King of +the Waters never spoke nor turned his head. + +As the dawn appeared they reached the borders of a forest. For many an +hour they had seen no kraal nor any human being, and here the bush was +so thick that no one could hope to get through it. The great serpent +took his bride to the bank and set her down. + +“Now remember,” said he, “never be afraid.” + +Then he disappeared without another word. All that day Timba waited +alone. As night approached she expected to see the King once more, but +no sign of him appeared. She shuddered as she heard the cries of the +wild beasts searching for their prey. First, just after sundown, came +the laughing cry of the jackal; then later the mournful howling of +wolves; and as the night went on she heard lions roaring close at hand. +Once she heard a tiger grunting a few paces away, and it was all she +could do not to scream aloud. But nothing hurt her, and at dawn all the +strange sounds ceased. The next day she spent alone, thinking with +terror of the approaching night. You can imagine her relief when, at +moonrise, her bridegroom appeared once more. + +He took the Princess again on his back and once more they swam down the +river, the dark forest on either side. They journeyed thus in silence +for many hours. At dawn they were still in the heart of the forest. The +trees were the tallest Timba had ever seen; great festoons of creepers +hung from their boughs, while below was a tangle of ferns and many +strange plants. Then suddenly just as the sun rose they entered a +marvellous place. For the river opened out into a wide, still pool, +surrounded by walls of dazzling white. The banks were of shining white +sand and the cliffs above of glittering mica, and in every nook and +cranny grew the loveliest ferns. There were tree-ferns all along the +water’s edge, with wide shady fronds and trunks like those of an +Eastern palm. There were smaller ferns in endless variety, and at the +very edge of the pool grew the most beautiful maidenhair. A wide belt +of green lily-leaves stretched out from the shore, framing the centre +of the pool, which lay clear and placid as a mirror, reflecting the +dazzling blue of the winter sky. Timba had never seen such a sight +before. She longed to alight and rest among the ferns in the bright +sunshine, but the King swam forward to the centre of the pool. There +one could see far below to the white sanded bottom, for the water was +like crystal. + +Here the serpent turned his head. “Follow me,” he said. + +He glided under the water, and the Princess followed. When she opened +her eyes she found they were far below in the depths of the water. The +light was dim, and at first she could see nothing but the waving stems +of the water-lilies. Then she found they were standing before a group +of most beautiful huts. The King took her to the largest and bade her +enter. Strange to say, it was quite dry and very comfortable. In it she +found all the pretty things which she had brought with her sisters to +the river-bank, and all was in perfect order. She was very hungry and +wanted to ask for food, but she did not dare say anything. The great +serpent turned away and left her, saying: “I will return in the +evening. Shut the door, but leave a little hole in the side of the hut +for me to creep through. Food will appear whenever you desire it.” + +And Timba found a delicious meal prepared in beautiful little pots. She +enjoyed it after her long night’s journey, but it was very dull and +lonely, and there was nothing to do. The day passed, and as night drew +on it became very dark and cold. Timba lit a fire in the hut and shut +the door, but remembered to leave a little opening as she had promised. +Then she lay down to rest, tired and puzzled at her bridegroom’s +strange conduct. She was just about to sleep when she heard a snake’s +scales rustling against the thatch without. For the first time she was +afraid as she heard him come. A moment later his head appeared at the +little hole. His eyes flamed in the light of the dying fire, as he +entered and glided towards her. First he touched her feet, then her +knees, and then passed right over her head, always in absolute silence. +Then he turned round and slipped out once more by the way he had come. + +The Princess spent the next day alone, and at night lay down again. But +this time she could not think of sleep, and for hours she lay awake, +tending her fire and watching the dark hole in the wall. At midnight +she heard the rustling against the reeds outside. She began to tremble, +but lay quite still and did not speak. The serpent entered as before, +laid his head on her feet and her knees, and again glided over her and +left the hut without a word. + +When he had gone the Princess breathed once more, and composed herself +to sleep; but as the next day advanced towards evening she became more +and more troubled. + +“Must I spend the end of my days here?” thought she. “Must I always +live in this cold dark place, away from the sun? I shall soon die and +never see my sisters again, or run with them through the +mealie-fields.” + +Then she began to think of her former life, and remembered the many +times she had met her lover among the tall lilies, and all the kindness +he had shown her. + +“No,” she said; “I must not despair. He will do me no harm; I must keep +my promise and be brave.” + +That night she lay in the hut by her wood fire and watched the hole in +the wall. Hour after hour she listened for the familiar rustling, but +no sound came. She could not sleep; her head ached and she was almost +sick with fear. + +She threw her last bundle of sticks on the little fire. It was very +cold; in the world above the dawn must be at hand. The flames leapt up +for the last time, and at that very moment a faint sound could be heard +outside the hut. The King of the Waters was there. He entered, his huge +flat head erect and his eyes flaming. The Princess nearly screamed, but +clenched her hands to keep herself quiet. The serpent touched her feet, +then her knees, and last of all her head. + +Timba closed her eyes and lay exhausted. All at once a light breeze +seemed to blow on her face, and she looked up again to see what it +might be. To her amazement she found she was again in the world above. +The door of the hut was open, and before her stretched the enchanted +pool, radiant and dazzling in the early morning sun. She turned to look +for the serpent, but he was gone. In his place stood a magnificent man +in the prime of life. He was very powerful, and so tall that his head +nearly touched the roof. Glossy leopard-skins hung from his broad +shoulders, and round his waist were jackal-skins fringed with tails of +the mountain-cat. On his arms and at his knees were bracelets of white +ox-tails, and in his hand he held a great staff beautifully carved. At +one end a man’s head was represented, and below it were tails of black +and white cat-skin. He was a very great Chief indeed; Timba had never +seen any one so handsome before. Only his eyes seemed familiar; they +were very bright and piercing. + +The Princess gazed in wonder. Then the Chief smiled. + +“Do not be astonished,” said he. “I am the serpent, the great King of +the Waters. Years ago I was deprived of human form by a wicked +magician. He belonged to a king who hated my father, but was never able +to harm him because he was too powerful. One day this wizard met me +walking alone by this river. By his black arts he turned me into a +serpent. My only kingdom should be in the waters, and I was never to +become a man again till I should find a bride without fear. At last I +met you; now I am a man once more. My father has long been dead and my +name is forgotten, so we must seek men and cattle and make a new +kingdom for ourselves. Take this staff; it will give you the power of a +magician. You have only to hold it firmly in your hand and you will +gain the victory over the most powerful enemy. We will rest here awhile +and then go forth together and make great conquests.” + +Thus Timba obtained the reward of her courage, and became renowned and +much beloved. I will tell you in the next story how she and her husband +won their kingdom, and how at last she saw her home once more. + + + + + + + + +IX + +THE SERPENT’S BRIDE + +PART II + + +The King of the Waters and his bride rested by the White Pool for many +weeks, making plans for the future and talking much together. They +waited till the spring came, and then as the early summer advanced they +set forth on their travels. For there were no tribes near them for many +a day’s journey, and the King needed great numbers of men and women to +people his kingdom. It was no longer enough for him to command the wide +river and reign alone at the White Pool. + +The wicked king whose magician had transformed him into a serpent was +long dead and his nation dispersed, so that there was no one left on +whom he might avenge himself. So the King and Queen journeyed for days +and days through the great forest, and then beyond through open flat +country, till, after many weeks, they came to a new kingdom and people +who did not know them. They travelled alone like ordinary folk, for +they did not wish to be noticed. + +The first city they reached was small, but beautifully built on the +side of a hill. Here they entered and talked with the Chief. + +“Whose kingdom is this?” asked the King of the Waters. + +“This is the kingdom of Volha-Volha,” said the Induna. “He is a great +King and powerful.” + +“Does he live near here?” asked the King. + +“Volha-Volha lives two days’ journey from here,” said the Induna. “You +follow the path over the hill and across two valleys. Then you come to +our greatest city. But let me warn you; our King does not love +strangers.” + +The King of the Waters smiled and thanked the Induna, and then turned +to his wife. Timba meanwhile had been talking with the women, and as +soon as they were alone she said: “There is something curious about +this city. The women seem sad and frightened; they would hardly speak +to me at all, and made excuses to get away. Did you notice how few +children there are? There is some mystery here.” + +“We will go on to-morrow towards the King’s city,” said her husband. +“We shall discover what is amiss before long.” + +The next morning they set out by the narrow path which led to the +King’s kraal. They left very early in the morning: it was cool and +bright, for autumn was at hand, and the crops were already ripe in the +valleys. They walked till mid-day, the King in front, spear in hand, +casting his bright eyes here and there, so as to be ready for any +enemy, and the Queen behind, holding the magic staff, her blue mantle +waving in the wind. + +At noon they came upon a second city, much larger than the first. The +huts were neat and strong, and set in little circles surrounded by a +fence. Little paths ran from one group of huts to another, for there +were no wide roads at all, and a strong palisade encircled the whole +town. Many people were moving to and fro, and one could see they were +rich and prosperous, for the cattle-kraal was very large and +excellently built. The King and Queen decided to wait here and ask more +about the kingdom of Volha-Volha. They came to the chief entrance and +looked about them. Instantly every one began to move towards their +huts, more especially the women, as if they suspected strangers and +were anxious to avoid them. + +“Why do the people look at us in this way?” said the Queen. “We are +alone and cannot harm them.” + +At last a man came forward hurriedly, with every mark of fear, and led +them to the Induna. There they again asked if they were on the road to +Volha-Volha’s kraal. + +“Yes, you are on the right road,” said the Induna briefly. Then he +added: “You have never seen our country?” + +“We are strangers, my wife and I,” said the Serpent King. “Our home is +many days’ journey from here.” + +The Induna asked many more questions, and when he was satisfied that +Timba and her husband really knew nothing of the country, he offered +them food and rest. But he did not seem to wish to talk, and the King +and Queen soon continued their journey, for they wanted to reach the +second valley before nightfall. + +“It is strange,” said Timba. “In that city also I noticed but few +children, and they were all copper-coloured, none were black. Yet these +people are Shanganis like ourselves, and have dark skins.” + +“We shall know soon,” said the King. + +The afternoon was very hot; the morning freshness had gone, and there +was a heavy feeling in the air. The narrow path mounted up and up +towards a great red cliff, which crowned the hill and extended for more +than a mile. The King and Queen followed its windings till they reached +the foot of the crags. There the path turned and continued under the +precipitous wall. + +Suddenly Timba cried out in horror. + +“What do you see?” said the King. + +“I saw white bones in the grass,” said Timba. “Look! There are still +more. What can they be? They are not like the bones of animals.” + +The husband and wife peered among the tall dry grass and the great +boulders. Then they saw that all the ground at the foot of the cliffs +was covered with little white bones. They looked like splintered wood, +for they had lain there many months. Before long they understood the +horror of their discovery, for Timba suddenly saw a tiny skull under a +thorn-bush. + +“Now I know!” she cried. “These are the bones of tiny children, and +that is why we saw so few in the cities. What can it all mean? Some +dreadful monster must dwell in this land.” + +“We will soon find out,” said the King. “Let us move on quickly, for +there is thunder in the air.” + +They hurried forward, the King erect and gloomy, Timba in fear and +sorrow, but grasping her staff firmly, for she felt it might soon be +needed. The clouds rose higher and higher, and lightning began to play +on the horizon like the flash of spears. They reached the top of the +pass, and saw a wide valley and, many miles away, a great city set on +the ridge of a hill. Farther away to the right the hill broke up into a +succession of kopjes [16] so steep and rough that it was impossible to +climb them. The storm drew nearer, and great drops of rain splashed on +the red dust. + +“We cannot reach the city to-night,” said the King. “Let us seek +shelter near at hand.” + +They hurried on down the mountain-side till they came to a gentle slope +on which stood a tiny kraal. It contained but three huts and a small +enclosure for cattle, but all was very strong and neat. On one side was +a kind of platform supported by poles, and on this stood six immense +baskets made of grass rope. These were waiting to be filled with grain +at the coming harvest; indeed some were already full, for a young woman +was anxiously arranging the cone-shaped lids while glancing every now +and then at the coming rain. As soon as she saw the strangers she ran +to a hut and crept in quickly, as if to avoid them. But Timba and the +King were not surprised; they understood by now that some terror ruled +the country, and that the people feared its coming at any moment. They +went straight forward and begged for shelter. + +The young woman admitted them as if she dared not refuse. She was +nearly as tall as Timba herself, and very beautiful, though her skin +was as black as ebony. She was quite young, too, but very grave and +anxious, and started whenever the Queen spoke to her. + +The storm was already upon them; the rain descended in torrents, and +soon the entire hillside was seamed with little noisy streams. There +was no question of going on till the next day, and presently the King +and Queen begged to stay the night at the kraal. The young woman, whose +name was Siapi, took them to her hut. Her husband, she said, was away +hunting and she was in charge of the kraal. When the evening meal was +over, she brought some sleeping-mats for her guests; they were very +strong and well woven, indeed all about the hut showed great neatness +and order, and was a credit to its mistress. Then she spread her own +mat on the floor, the door was closed, and presently all were asleep. + +At midnight Timba woke suddenly to find the door ajar, and the cold +night wind blowing in. The fire in the centre of the hut was nearly +out, but there was enough glow from the dying embers to show that the +corner in which the young wife slept was empty. Timba was much puzzled, +and listened to hear if any one was moving about. Suddenly she heard a +baby’s cry, followed by quick hushing and many caresses. Then she +remembered again the ghastly red cliff and the frightened women she had +seen the day before. Without doubt the young wife had a baby and was +hiding it from some danger. Timba arose quickly, determined to know +all. + +The clouds had not all dispersed, but the moon shone fitfully, and it +was easy to see anything near at hand. Timba looked all round the +little kraal, and presently, to her great surprise, she saw the young +mother standing on the grain store and lifting out of one of the big +baskets a beautiful little baby. + +Timba ran towards her and poor Siapi screamed. + +“Oh!” she cried, “do not betray me, do not tell them about my little +girl!” + +“I will tell no one,” said Timba. “But why are you afraid? What is the +matter?” + +“Do you not know then?” said the poor mother with wide-open eyes. + +“How should I? We are strangers.” + +“Every year Volha-Volha, our King, kills every baby born in this +country who is black. Only copper-coloured babies may live, for he is +determined his people shall be black no longer. The time approaches for +his spies to come and seize our little ones. Then his impis kill them +with assegais and knobkerries, and throw them over the great red cliff. +We have no helper or defender. Volha-Volha is all-powerful. Every year +he does bad deeds, but this is the most cruel of all. My little girl +was born three months ago; she is as black as can be. I hid her here, +for no spy climbs up to the grain stores; but if they find her I will +not live; we will die together.” + +“Do not fear any more,” said the Queen. “I will help you.” + +Then she stamped on the ground with her magic staff, and instantly +there appeared the kindest old woman you ever saw. + +“Here,” said the Queen, “is a very wise Fairy. Give her your baby and +she will fly like the wind over hills and dales, and take her wherever +you wish, to a place where kings do not kill babies.” + +Siapi looked up in wonder and delight. “Take her to my sister,” she +said; “she will care for her, and I shall have nothing more to fear.” + +So the old Fairy took the baby, who cooed with delight in her arms. A +moment later they were gone. + +“And now,” said Timba, “we will rest, and to-morrow we will tell the +King, my husband.” + +The next day Siapi told the Serpent King of her sad lot and that of all +her people; how they lived in hourly terror of spies, and thus dreaded +the sight of any stranger; and how, no matter what they did, +Volha-Volha was too clever and too cruel to allow them to escape. + +Then the King of the Waters burst into great wrath. “Such a man should +die,” cried he. “He shall pay with his own life for the tears of all +these mothers.” + +That evening, as the sun went down, he called Timba and Siapi, and bade +them follow him to a lonely spot out of sight of the kraal. Then he +turned towards the Queen and said, “Hold your staff firmly while I +summon my armies.” + +He looked towards the mountain and shouted in a terrific voice: + + + “Vuka panzi, mabutu, + Si bulale Volha-Volha.” + + “Rise, soldiers, + Let us kill Volha-Volha; + He has slain every black baby. + Rise, impis, rise, + The pot is boiling over.” + + +And instantly there sprang from the ground a splendid impi of a +thousand men with flashing spears. Three times did the King repeat the +charm, and each time fresh men appeared. Then he placed them in order, +and bade them march upon Volha-Volha’s city. He then told the Queen to +stay at the kraal with Siapi, and to hold the magic staff in her hand +day and night till he returned in triumph. + +As darkness fell he and all his army disappeared like shadows down the +mountain-side. No one in all the country had seen them; they crossed +the valley and climbed the great hill with amazing swiftness. At +cock-crow they surrounded the city, and fell on it with a sudden shout +like thunder. Volha-Volha had no time to place his men in order, and +fled in panic to his rocky stronghold, calling on his magicians to +follow him. In an hour the King of the Waters held the whole of the +chief city; but he had by no means obtained all he wanted. For his +enemy was now hidden in the caves and inaccessible rocks which crowned +the hill. There he had stored grain sufficient for many months, and +with him were his magicians and the most wicked of his soldiers. They +had long feared attack, and their stronghold was well prepared. + +Then followed a long, tedious fight, which lasted for many a day. Inch +by inch the King of the Waters advanced into the stronghold, and one by +one he killed all Volha-Volha’s men. The wicked magicians, driven +desperate, cast every spell they knew, but Timba sat with her staff in +her hand day and night and thwarted all their plans. At last the +Serpent King reached the inmost defence of all, and there among the +thorns Volha-Volha was discovered crouching at the back of a dark cave. +His magicians had all been killed, and he was powerless to do any more +evil. + +“Die like a dog!” cried the warriors of the Serpent King. “Die, you who +have killed all the black children!” + +And they assegaied him at once. His body was thrown over the cliffs and +his name wiped out. + +Then the King of the Waters returned to his wife with great rejoicing, +and told her they were now rich and powerful beyond belief. He sent +orders to every city formerly held by Volha-Volha, bidding the +inhabitants come with him and live in a new country. They all rose up +with one accord and thus they journeyed, men, women and children, to +the land near the great river. Many thousands of cattle went with them, +and also large numbers of sheep and goats; such wealth had never been +seen before in the country. + +Now, as soon as the news came that Volha-Volha was really dead and his +people free, the Queen sent a messenger to fetch the little baby girl +she had rescued. The messenger had far to go, and when he returned with +the little maiden the King’s new subjects were already beginning to +build their kraals. The baby was given to the happy mother alive and +well, but the messenger had gathered bad news as he travelled. For he +heard that the people who lived about the Red Pool were coming in armed +force to attack the King of the Waters. The river had been dry now for +nearly a year; the rains had begun, and still the water did not rise, +so that they feared starvation and ruin. + +When the King of the Waters heard this he said to the Queen, “Come, let +us go to the White Pool and give them water.” + +So they both rose up and left their people and travelled through the +forest till they came to the White Pool. It was now early summer, the +ferns were renewing themselves in tints of tenderest green, the white +sand and the glittering cliffs shone in the sun. But most beautiful of +all were the water-lilies. They covered the pool in thousands, +silvery-white and pale blue, with buds of delicate mauve. Above them +hovered myriads of shining flies with wings of rainbow gauze. The air +was warm and still, the water clear as could be. For the White Pool was +never empty, no matter how long the rains stayed away. + +“Now,” said the King to Timba, “lift your staff and command the waters +to rise, and let us return to your people.” + +So Timba lifted her staff, and she and the King turned towards the +upper streams. Everywhere they met little rivulets of water, which +seemed to spring from the ground as they advanced. Soon the river was +in full flood; and the King of the Waters and his bride swam together +till they came to the Black Pool. There the lilies stood in thousands, +creamy-white and glorious to behold, and there the King and Queen came +to shore. + +“And now,” said the King, “we will visit your father and make peace. +And because of all I owe to you the river shall flow for ever, summer +and winter, and shall never be empty again.” + +Then Timba and her husband went to the kraal and were received with +much rejoicing. And when the old father saw the wonderful power of the +King of the Waters, he said that he and all his people wished to live +under the protection of such a mighty Chief and thus be free of all +anxiety. So the two peoples became one, and the King and Queen of the +Waters lived in joy and honour all their lives long. + + + + + + + + +X + +THE FAIRY BIRD + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Ever so many years ago there lived a little boy and girl called Duma +and Dumasane. They were brother and sister and lived happily together +in a tiny kraal at the foot of a great mountain. Duma was four years +older than Dumasane, but both were born in summer in the midst of a +great storm, so they were called alike children of Duma, the thunder. +Their father and mother were poor, and had but one hut surrounded by a +fence, and possessed no herds nor cattle of any kind. Their only food +came from the fields which they worked themselves, and often at the end +of the day the father and mother would long for a good calabash of +thick milk. But they were too poor to buy even a goat, and could only +sigh and shake their heads over their misfortune. + +One morning they all went forth to hoe their lands, for the sun was +growing warmer every day and the spring rains would soon arrive. “We +will try new ground,” said the father, “the old lands are getting worn +out, and there is plenty of good soil farther down the valley.” + +He walked first along the narrow path, then came the mother, and then +Duma and Dumasane, each with their pick. Presently they reached a +beautiful piece of land, smooth and level and free from stones, and +soon all were hard at work turning the first sods. At sundown they went +home, well satisfied with their day’s work. You can imagine how puzzled +they were the next morning when they found all the sods turned back in +their old places, and the ground as smooth as if no one had set foot on +it. + +They set to work once more, and again prepared a big piece of land for +sowing. But the following morning the same thing happened again: not a +sign remained of yesterday’s labour. They persevered for many days, but +every night their work was made of no avail. + +“There must be some reason for this,” said the father at last. “I will +stay behind to-day, and see what happens.” + +So when Duma and Dumasane and their mother went home the father slipped +behind a great rock, and watched the newly-turned lands. He had not +been there long when he saw the most beautiful bird come out of the +bushes and alight on the fresh sods. It was like no bird he had ever +seen, for its feathers were of every colour; its wings were of vivid +scarlet, its tail a metallic blue, and its head a bright gold, which +shaded into a bronze-green on its breast. It shone like a jewel in the +sun, and seemed to laugh with joy. It flew to the very stone behind +which the father lay hidden, and alighted on the highest point. Then it +flapped its wings and said in a high clear voice: “Chanchasa! +Chanchasa! Kilhisa!” + +At that very moment every sod in the field turned over; you would have +said no one had ever been near the valley. The father kept very quiet +and waited till the bird was within arm’s reach. Then he caught it +suddenly. + +“Now,” said he, “I have got you! You are clever enough to take my food, +so it is only fair you should now provide me with a meal.” And he +prepared to wring its neck. + +“No, no! Spare me!” cried the bird. “If you will only give me my life I +will provide you with cream, fresh milk, and curds and whey all your +days.” + +The father opened his eyes at this. “I can see you are a fairy bird,” +said he, “and if what you say is true I will keep you alive.” + +He went straight home, holding the bird in his hand. At the kraal gate +he bade his wife send the children out while she prepared the evening +meal. He then shut the door of the hut and showed her the bird. + +“Of what use is the bird to us?” said she. + +“You will soon see,” said her husband. He took the sack of woven grass +through which they strained their beer, placed the bird in it, and hung +it in the middle of the hut. Then he took a great calabash and held it +up—for only a man may have anything to do with dairy work—and called on +the bird to fulfil its promise. + +“Chanchasa! Chanchasa! Kilhisa!” called the bird in its high voice, +flapping its wings. + +First the calabash was filled with cream, then with sweet milk, and +then with thick milk, as much as ever they could use in one day. The +wife was delighted, for the cream would keep their karosses in the most +beautiful condition, and the milk would make the children big and +strong. + +“Do not let us tell any one about this bird,” said she, “he is far too +wonderful. He must live here, but we will say nothing about him, and +not let the children know how we get the milk and cream.” + +That night they feasted well. The next day they went out to hoe their +lands with a light heart, and sang merry songs: + + + “Now we have cream and milk, + Fresh milk, and curds and whey; + Now we go a-working + Singing merrily every day.” + + +But Duma and Dumasane were much puzzled at the big basin of curds which +they had every night. Where did it come from? There was neither flock +nor herd within many miles, and yet there was cream, fresh milk, and +thick milk every day. + +“I know,” said Dumasane to her brother one day. “They get it in the +evening when they sit alone in the hut and will not let us in.” + +“Suppose we look through the thatch,” said Duma. “I know where there is +a chink.” + +That evening they both watched; they saw the bird come out of his sack, +flap his wings, and fill each calabash to the brim. The next morning +their parents left them alone in the kraal, for they had far to go. +They started merrily enough, singing songs of rejoicing over their +wonderful prosperity: + + + “Now we have cream and milk, + Fresh milk, and curds and whey.” + + +The wife sang even louder than her husband, for now she was as rich as +any of her neighbours and her heart was full of pride. Little did they +think of the misfortune which awaited their return. + +They came back at dusk, tired, but eager for their welcome meal. A most +dreadful sight met their eyes. The whole kraal was swimming in milk and +cream, and the sack was empty. The little boy and girl were crying at +the outer gate, and presently made confession. + +“It is our fault,” they said. “We always wondered what you did in the +hut alone, and one day we looked through a chink and saw everything. So +we took the bird down this morning and told him to say ‘Chanchasa.’ But +the milk and cream came so fast that we thought we should be drowned, +and in our fright we let the bird go and he flew away.” + +At this the parents were very, very angry. “You have brought starvation +upon us,” cried the mother. “We can no longer keep you; you must die.” + +She carried them away there and then to a big ravine in the +mountain-side and threw them down a rocky precipice. The little girl +was nearly killed, but the boy was not so much hurt, for a tree broke +his fall and he was only bruised. He soon came to himself and found +they were in a deep narrow valley or creek, which penetrated into the +heart of the mountains. Great trees in full leaf almost shut out the +sun, and a clear stream ran down the bottom of the valley among tall +ferns and flowering bushes. Duma lay there two days; then he was able +to walk to the mouth of the creek and search for food. He found some +delicious berries and great elephant leaves, which he filled with water +and carried to his sister; and thus he fed her every day till she also +recovered. + +“Now,” said he, for he was the elder, “we must seek a new home. Our +parents are wicked, and we dare not go back to them. Let us walk right +up this valley; perhaps we shall find a kraal among the mountains where +we can get food.” + +Dumasane agreed, and they set forth up the creek, following the bed of +the stream and singing as they went: + + + “We are the foolish children, + Who lost the fairy bird + Which gave our father cream, + Fresh milk, and curds and whey. + Alack-a-day.” + + +The words went to a sad little tune, and the little girl wept bitterly +to think of the pleasant home she had lost. They mounted higher and +higher till they came to the top of the creek. There they saw a great +tree covered with black-berries. They stopped singing and ran to pick +them, but they had scarcely eaten one when all the berries turned into +a flock of tiny blackbirds, who flew out of the tree with shrill cries. +Among them, bright as a flower and gay as ever, was the fairy bird +himself. + +Directly he saw the children he stopped and perched on a bough to talk +to them. + +“I see you are in trouble,” said he, “because you gave me my liberty.” +Here he snapped a twig off the tree and gave it to them. “Take this,” +said he, “and go straight on till you come to a huge rock. Walk round +it, striking it with this stick, and say: + + + ‘My father’s and mother’s cattle were killed. + They say we have done great wrong, + For we have lost the fairy bird + Which gave us cream and milk, + Fresh milk, and curds and whey. + Stone, Stone, open in two, + So that we can go in. + Father and mother have cast us out, + There is no milk, no curds and whey. + We have done wrong, we have done wrong. + Stone, Stone, open in two. + Vula, Etye.’ + + +At the end, cry ‘Chanchasa! Chanchasa! Kilhisa!’ with every blow till +you come to the right spot. There a door will fly open, and you will +find a home in which you can live till you are grown up. Everything is +there which you can possibly want to eat, but remember one thing. Never +leave a morsel of fat on the fire, or evil will come of it.” + +The children took the stick with sparkling eyes. Duma held it and +Dumasane followed him, her tears all forgotten. Soon they came in sight +of an immense rock standing by itself in the tall green grass, the +biggest they had ever seen. They walked round it, singing the appointed +song and striking it with the fairy stick. All at once a door flew +open, and they looked inside into a huge cave. It was more beautifully +furnished than any hut they had ever seen; a king might have lived in +it. There were finely plaited mats to sleep on, little wooden pillows +most daintily carved, and great fur rugs or karosses to keep the cold +away. There were beautiful bead necklaces and girdles for Dumasane, and +for each of them a skin cloak worked with beads, while for Duma there +was a bow and arrows, the bow strung with python-skin, a long curly +koodoo [17] horn to blow on, and the most perfect little assegais. And +all round the walls stood pots and calabashes in shining red and black, +containing cream, fresh milk and thick milk, and delicious porridge +already cooked. There were besides three great baskets, one full of +corn, another full of nuts, and the third full of maize. There was +abundance of food for months to come. + +The two children both said at once: “This is the most lovely place we +have ever seen. Now we shall be quite happy.” + +And there they lived for many years, till at last Duma had become a +fine young man and Dumasane the prettiest girl you can imagine. There +was always plenty to eat, for every day the calabashes and baskets were +filled as fast as Dumasane emptied them. They had no troubles and led a +free and happy life. Dumasane learnt to cook and keep house, and Duma +practised daily with bow and arrow till he became an expert huntsman. +Then one day they found that their stores of food were no longer being +replenished. The baskets were gradually growing empty. + +“It is time we worked for ourselves,” said Dumasane to her brother. “I +will see to the house while you go out hunting and bring me some meat +to cook.” + +“Very well,” he said. “But if I bring you meat remember not to leave +any fat on the fire, for the fairy bird said if we left any fat burning +harm would certainly come of it.” + +The first day Dumasane was very careful, and the second day. But the +third day a little tiny piece of fat was left smouldering on the +flames. Duma went out to hunt and she was left alone. She set to work +to arrange the cave, and was just placing the cooking-pots in order +when she heard heavy footsteps coming along the path and two voices +saying “Hum, hoom! Hum, hoom!” in deep bass notes. Her heart was filled +with terror at the sound. Next minute the door flew open and there +stood an Inzimu and his wife. They were monsters dreadful to behold. +They stood upright, and had hands and feet like a human being, but +their flesh was covered with big lumps and they had long scanty red +hair all over their bodies. Their eyes were tiny and close-set, and +their mouths extended from ear to ear, and were filled with sharp, +pointed teeth set wide apart. Their hands had very short fat fingers, +and their feet resembled their hands exactly. The woman was even uglier +than the man, for while he had two horns growing out of his head she +had one in the middle of her forehead, and a long snout just like that +of a wolf. Each of them had a long tail like an elephant’s trunk, which +had the power of sucking up all they wanted. + +Dumasane was terribly frightened when she saw them, for she knew they +were cannibals. The monsters walked straight into the cave, twinkling +their little eyes and grunting at every step. + +“Take everything in the cave,” said Dumasane, “but leave me here.” + +“No, no,” said they, “if we have you we shall be able to get all these +things as often as we want them, for you have magic power.” + +And in spite of her entreaties they carried her away. In the afternoon +her brother returned and found everything gone, the cave empty and no +sign of his sister. He sat down in despair, for he thought she was +dead. + +Suddenly, gorgeous in gold and scarlet, in flew the fairy bird holding +a stick in his mouth. + +“Do not despair,” said he. “Take this stick and a big bag and go into +the bush. Wave the stick before you as you walk and every reptile and +every stinging insect you meet will instantly enter the bag. When it is +full come back here and hang the bag in the middle of the cave.” + +Duma sallied forth bravely, bag in hand, and sang a fairy song as he +walked into the forest. Instantly every deadly thing within call came +and took its place in the sack. There were two great black mambas, +there were scorpions and big hairy spiders, fierce little black bees, +great yellow wasps and hornets, and clouds of poisonous mosquitoes, +newly hatched and venomous as could be. When the bag was quite full +Duma returned and hung it in the middle of the cave. Then he sat down +to await events. + +Presently he heard the Inzimus singing “Hum, hoom! Hum, hoom!” and +trampling heavily. The door flew open and they walked in. + +“Ah, we will take the boy,” said the Inzimu, “he will be useful to us.” + +“Let us take the bag too,” said the wife. “No doubt it is full of good +things.” + +So they took the bag and opened it to see what was inside. The animals +all came out at once and attacked them unmercifully. The snakes and +scorpions ran along the ground, the bees and mosquitoes circled round +their heads, joined by the wasps, and deafened them with their angry +cries. The two monsters fled screaming and ran away down the ravine, +stumbling over thorny bushes and great rocks. They did not stop till +they came to a deep pool in the river. There they plunged in to escape +from the stings and bites of the insects, but no sooner did they put +their heads out of the water than they were attacked again. In the end +they both were drowned and Duma was safe. + +“Now,” said the fairy bird, “go straight to your father’s kraal, and +you will find your sister. These two Inzimus were your father and +mother. They were changed into monsters as a punishment for their +wicked conduct. Now they are dead, and you are both free.” + +Duma went in haste to his old home, and on the threshold he met his +sister crying. He took her to the forest, and there they met the fairy +bird for the last time. + +“I will change you both into royal birds,” said he. “In that way you +will both find a better home than I can give you, for you are now no +longer children.” + +Then he flew away, flashing in the sun, and they never saw him again. +But they themselves became two beautiful green lorys, with scarlet and +black wings, and a great green crest on their heads edged with white. +They were almost as lovely as the fairy bird himself; no one but a King +had the right to own them. They lived in the trees on nuts and fruit, +and bathed in the clear river-pools morning and evening. + +Now there was a great King who reigned over all that country. One day +his Queen sent out an Induna to cut wood in the forest. The Chief was +chopping at the foot of a tree when he heard human voices singing in +the higher branches. He stopped to listen. The voices sang: + + + “We were once a boy and girl; + We let our father’s bird go free + Which gave us both cream and milk, + Fresh milk, and curds and whey. + Now we live alone in the trees.” + + +The Chief looked up and saw that the voices belonged to two beautiful +green lorys, and that no human beings were near. “Those are royal +birds,” said he; “some great witchcraft is at work here.” + +He went straight to the King’s kraal and told the whole story. + +“Such a thing is impossible,” said the Queen, “but we will go and see +for ourselves.” + +So the Chief took the Queen and all the Princesses into the forest and +placed them at the foot of the tree. Then he started chopping once +more. Presently the birds began to sing, and the Queen was soon +convinced that these were enchanted creatures. She told the Chief to +catch them and bring them to her. + +The Chief climbed up the tree and held his hands out under the broad +green leaves, waiting for the birds to come near. As soon as they were +within reach he seized both and brought them to the Queen. + +But directly the Queen touched them they were changed, and became a +most beautiful young man and woman. They were taken to the King, who +heard all their adventures. “This is wonderful,” said he. “I will bring +you to your uncle, who is a great Chief and lives near here.” + +So Duma and Dumasane found a beautiful home and many friends. The Queen +was especially fond of Dumasane, and married her to her own son, while +Duma married one of her daughters, and became a great Chief. + + + + + + + + +XI + +THE COCK’S KRAAL + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Once upon a time there lived a great Chief who ruled over many +thousands of men. The city in which he dwelt was so large that it would +have taken you many hours to walk round it, and no one had yet counted +the multitude of his cattle. But in spite of his great wealth he was of +so grasping a disposition that he never seemed to have enough, nor did +he care whether he gained his ends justly. You shall hear the story of +the misfortunes he incurred through this same passion of greed. + +One day he sent out a party of men headed by his chief Induna to hunt +for otter-skins for the royal body-guard. This regiment was the finest +of his army, and he prided himself on its perfect equipment. To show +how highly he esteemed the men belonging to it, he allowed them to wear +otter-skins, the royal fur, and long waving head-dresses of ostrich +feathers. His bravest son was their commander; no soldiers equalled +them in all the land. + +The hunting-party had good sport, travelling for many miles down the +river, and attacking the otters by night, when they assemble under the +great rocks. The nights were warm and pleasant, and day after day they +followed their quarry till they were far from home and found themselves +in a new country. Then in a few hours the weather changed. Clouds came +up and covered the hills; and then followed a cold misty rain. It grew +colder and colder, and they had no shelter and were drenched to the +bone. They tried to light a fire by rubbing two pieces of wood +together, but the wood was damp and no spark came. They tried +flint-stones, but the rain had spoilt their tinder. They then thought +of going to a neighbouring kraal and there obtaining fire, but the +country round was bare and empty, not a soul was to be seen. And the +rain continued to fall heavily. + +At last they decided to mount a hill and see if any habitation could be +found. They ascended the highest point within reach, and far away, in +the middle of a great plain on the other side, they saw a single column +of smoke. They all set out at once in the new direction, and at the end +of some hours arrived at the gate of a big kraal. Many hundreds of huts +stood round the cattle-pen, and there were oxen in plenty and large +herds of goats and sheep, but not a single human being could they see. +The men walked round the whole city, but the only occupants of the huts +were fowls of every size and colour. They walked in and out of the +doors, and seemed busy and occupied on important affairs. The Induna +grew more and more puzzled. At last they reached the great entrance of +the cattle-kraal, and there a magnificent golden Cock stood on the +fence, whence he could survey the whole city. He did not move at their +approach, but surveyed them boldly with his bright yellow eyes. + +“What do you want?” he asked in the tones of a man. + +The Induna and his warriors were so surprised that they could not +answer for a moment. + +“Do you seek shelter?” repeated the Cock. “If so, my people will help +you.” + +“We thank you,” said the Induna; “we only want fire. We are far from +home, and have no means of warming ourselves or cooking food.” + +“You shall have all you want,” said the Cock. “I am a man like +yourselves, but a wicked King who was stronger than I has bewitched me +and all my people. He was a cannibal, and actually asked for the hand +of my daughters in marriage for his sons. I refused to allow them to +have anything to do with such a wicked race, whereupon his magicians +changed me and all my subjects into cocks and hens.” + +“Can you not win back your old form?” asked the Induna. + +“Only if I overcome a more powerful Chief than myself, and that I shall +find difficult in my present shape,” said the Cock sadly. + +Then he took the Induna and his men to two beautiful huts, gave them +food and drink of the best, and when they departed provided them with a +thin stick lighted in the fire, which would smoulder for many hours. +The hunting-party went back to their otter-skins, lighted a fire, and +presently returned home with their booty. + +They related all their adventures to the King, and gave him a full +account of the enchanted Cock, his beautiful kraal, and his great +flocks and herds. The King’s greed awoke at once, and he cried, “What +fools serve me! Why did not you take the cattle and come back with them +at once? Could you not overcome a few cocks and hens?” + +“Great King,” said the Induna, “there was no order to conquer. Why +should we steal from the Cock, who gave us all we wanted freely?” + +“How could you possibly miss such a chance?” said the King. “I will see +to the matter myself at once.” + +Then he ordered one of his regiments to start for the Cock’s kraal +forthwith, and waited at home for the expected spoil. + +His men soon found the path, and after a few days’ travelling arrived +within sight of the enchanted city. + +The golden Cock was at his usual post at the gate of the cattle-kraal. +As he saw the regiment approach in battle array he called all his sheep +and cattle, and sent them into the kraal. Then he flew to the chief hut +and called to all the fowls who lived in the city: + +“Come out, come out! Here are warriors who have come to take your +cattle. Come out, come out, and defend your homes.” + +The fowls flew in from their lands in hundreds and thousands, and stood +each at the door of his hut. Directly the regiment set foot in the city +each picked out his man and flew towards him, flapping his wings around +his enemy’s head. In a few minutes each bird had pecked out the eyes of +his opponent, and such was their strength and ferocity that but two or +three escaped alive out of the whole regiment. + +The King was greatly incensed when he heard the news. His blood was up, +and he instantly sent forth his royal body-guard, the flower of his +army, under the command of his favourite son. They set out, clad in +rich otter-skins and crowned with long black feathers, each man a +perfect warrior. + +Many long days passed. Every evening at sundown the King looked for the +victorious army driving before them great herds of lowing cattle, +themselves scarcely visible in the clouds of golden dust. But no one +came, and the days grew into weeks. At length one night at dusk a +wretched fugitive arrived, footsore and scarcely able to drag himself +along. His plumes were gone, a fragment of otter-skin was still about +his loins. + +“Great King,” said he with many groans, “I am all that remains of the +royal body-guard.” + +“Is my son also dead?” cried the King in horror. + +“Great King, the Prince is dead and all our men; no one can stand +against the assault of the enchanted fowls. The golden Cock spared me +alone so that the fate of our warriors might be known. He bade me say +he is still ready for you.” + +But the King owned himself beaten. “How can I fight any more?” he said. +“My body-guard is destroyed and my bravest son killed. Let the Cock +keep his city and his cattle.” + +As the words fell from his lips the golden Cock and all his men +regained once more their rightful shape. They had conquered in fair +fight, and now ruled over a great land in happiness and peace. + + + + + + + + +XII + +BABOON-SKINS + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Now in this story there is neither Fairy nor Inzimu, nor does any one +win a kingdom by secret spells. Some little bags of python-skin are +indeed just mentioned, but you will see that they have no effect on any +one. The only magic used in this story is a woman’s wit and kindness of +heart, the oldest charms in the world. + +Long years ago there lived a Chief who had many wives. Two of these +were more distinguished than the others, for each had a most beautiful +daughter. Indeed their families were exactly alike, for each had a son +and two daughters, one very pretty and the other plain. I cannot tell +you what became of the plain daughters. No doubt they each had a +history, but this tale concerns only the two beauties. The name of one +was Inkosesana, which means “the Young Lady.” Her mother was very proud +of her from the first, and expected her to marry a very great Chief, +and Inkosesana was as conceited as possible in consequence. The name of +the other was Lalhiwe, which only means “Thrown Away.” As you may +suppose from her name, she was a much quieter and more modest girl than +Inkosesana. But as time went on and both girls grew up to womanhood +suitors began to arrive, and each mother hoped for great things for her +daughter. The rivalry between the two families became more and more +bitter, till at last it was all they could do to keep the constant +quarrels from coming to the ear of the Chief. + +One morning Lalhiwe’s mother awoke and went to see about the Kafir corn +for the day’s provisions. To her horror she found under the +grinding-stone the blood of some animal and several little bags of +python-skin filled with charms. + +“Lalhiwe!” cried the mother, “come and look at these!” + +Lalhiwe nearly fainted with fright. “It is witchcraft,” said she, “it +must be some wickedness devised by Inkosesana and her mother. They will +never rest till we are ruined. Those charms are meant to cast a spell +over us, so that we may fall ill and die.” + +Lalhiwe then ran quickly to a neighbour who was a Wise Woman, and +begged her to come and give charms to counteract the evil influence of +her rivals. When all was done she sat down and said, “Dear mother, I am +tired of all this. What do I care about beauty? It has only brought us +endless quarrels and wretched jealousy. Give me some baboon-skins. They +are the ugliest disguise of all, and I will wrap myself up in them and +retire from life till Inkosesana is married. In that way we shall all +have peace.” + +That very day she asked her brother to get two baboon-skins for her, +and to bring them with the heads and limbs still on them. As soon as +they were ready she made herself a complete disguise. She joined the +two skins at the shoulders and again at the heads. Then she slipped +them on so that the two baboons’ heads covered her face and hair before +and behind. Her bright eyes peeped through the two eye-holes, but her +face was completely hidden. All that was visible was the mask of a +grinning ape. The two skins hung from her shoulder to her knee, back +and front. One could still see that her limbs were pretty and well +turned, but her laughing face and ivory teeth were hidden completely, +and so were her graceful shoulders. In fact she looked like a girl +afflicted with some great deformity, who is obliged to hide herself +from the gaze of men. + +As soon as her rival’s mother heard of her decision, she laughed +heartily and said, “This is the best news I have heard for many a long +day. What a fool that girl is, to be sure! She must be mad.” + +All the women in the kraal were of the same opinion. They had never +heard of any one hiding a pretty face before, and could not believe +that Lalhiwe did it all to have peace and save her family from +calamity. In spite of all the remarks that were made she never +faltered, but wore her ugly baboon-skins every day, and never once +showed her face even to her girl friends. Great peace reigned in the +kraal after the first few days; there were no more quarrels, every one +was quite happy, and Inkosesana remained the undisputed beauty of the +country-side. + +But one day, when Lalhiwe had worn the baboon-skins many months, there +was a great stir in the kraal. Two councillors had arrived from a very +mighty Chief, seeking not one bride but two for their master. Both must +be beautiful; the Chief was very rich, and would make a magnificent +marriage-gift to the father of a really lovely maiden. The two +councillors sat long in conversation with the head of the kraal, while +the women stood in little knots and talked excitedly. Presently they +were asked to come forward and the demand of the great Chief was made +known. The mother of Inkosesana at once advanced with an air of +triumph. “Here,” said she, “is the bride you are looking for,” and she +showed them Inkosesana, who did indeed look charming. She had thrown +aside her cloak and appeared decked in all her prettiest beads, which +set off her beautiful skin and graceful figure to full advantage. The +councillors both said at once: “This is the most beautiful girl we have +yet seen. We accept her with pleasure; our King could not wish for a +more lovely woman.” Then turning to the father they said, “Have you +another pretty daughter, so that we may see her?” + +The father said nothing, but the mother of Inkosesana, mad with +gratified pride and longing to triumph yet further, called out, “Yes, +there is another daughter, but she is always wrapped in baboon-skins, +and is of no consequence at all.” + +“Let us see her,” said the councillors, who felt curious at once. + +Lalhiwe stepped forward very reluctantly, holding her skins tightly +round her. But nothing could take away from the grace of her pretty +limbs, and the councillors walked round her and longed to see her face. + +“What are you hiding under those skins?” said they. “You have very +pretty limbs and you walk gracefully. What is wrong with you? We beg +you to show us your face.” + +“No,” said Lalhiwe. “He who marries me must marry me for myself alone, +not for my beauty.” + +“Are you deformed, then? Or are you very ugly?” + +“I did not say so,” answered Lalhiwe quietly. “All I said was that he +who marries me must marry me for myself alone.” + +“But why do you do this strange thing?” + +“To please myself,” said Lalhiwe. + +“You must be deformed,” said one councillor, hoping to make her angry. + +“I did not say so,” answered the girl; and although the councillors did +all they could to provoke her and make her throw off her skins, she did +not get angry or speak rudely to them. + +They confessed themselves beaten, and held a long consultation. Should +they take Lalhiwe as well as the beautiful Inkosesana and risk it? Both +of them admired her wit and her good temper, and at last they decided +to ask for her also, in the hope that all would be well. Before they +went back to their master they saw the brothers from the two families. +They told the brother of Inkosesana to make a big kraal to receive the +cattle in payment for his sister, as there was no doubt their master +would be delighted with her. To Lalhiwe’s brother they said nothing; +and he, fearing his sister would not be welcomed, made only a little +kraal, sufficient for some twenty cattle. + +The councillors then returned to the King. He was pleased with the +reports they brought of Inkosesana, but when he heard the tale of the +second bride who wore baboon-skins, he was very angry indeed. “No +girl,” said he, “who had a pretty face would hide it. Without doubt she +is absolutely hideous; and remember, if that is the case, you pay the +penalty of death. To think that I should have sent such fools!” + +The councillors were very sad, and awaited the coming of the brides +with much fear, for they could not be sure they had guessed rightly, +and the King always kept his word. As a precaution the King only sent +twenty cattle for each bride. “We can easily send more if both are +acceptable,” said he; “and if there is trouble (for I will not have an +ugly wife on any account), then we need not ask for a return of the +marriage-gift. These forty cattle will then be the due payment for +Inkosesana.” + +At the appointed time the two brides said farewell to the kraal, and +set out on their long journey. They walked for many days, each attended +by her bridesmaids. At length they reached their future home and +appeared before the great Chief. He was pleased at once with +Inkosesana, but looked with puzzled eyes on Lalhiwe, who still remained +muffled in her baboon-skins. He admired her graceful bearing, and +longed the more to know her secret. + +“I beg of you,” said he, “let me see your face.” + +“No, great King,” said Lalhiwe in her usual quiet voice; “I show my +face to no one until the wedding morning.” + +The two brides then retired with their maids, each to her own hut, +until the preparations for the wedding-feast were made. You can imagine +how eagerly they were discussed among the women of the kraal. +Inkosesana was much admired, but Lalhiwe found no supporters. “She must +certainly be hideous,” they said, “or she would show her face.” + +When the great day arrived the brides each left her hut and went down +to the river to bathe. They went to separate pools, and neither saw the +other. + +Lalhiwe descended with her maids to a deep pool under a great rock. The +sun just touched the top of the highest tree, tall white lilies grew on +the banks, and in every cranny and nook were great clusters of green +fern, fresh with dew. Lalhiwe slipped off her skins, rolled them in a +tight bundle and buried them deep in a great ant-bear hole. Then she +and her maidens bathed in the clear pool, laughing and chattering, till +it was time to array themselves for the great day. The bridesmaids +decked themselves out in all their most wonderful bead-work, but +Lalhiwe, as befitted a bride on her wedding-morning, wore the deep +black kilt of ox-skins which is the dress of married women only, and +for ornament just a girdle of white beads round her waist and an +assegai in her hand. But when she stood in the sun, surrounded by her +maids, they all cried, “Lalhiwe, you are more beautiful than ever! You +are far more lovely than Inkosesana!” + +And indeed it was true. All these months Lalhiwe had been hidden from +the sun she had grown in beauty, her skin was as smooth and soft as +satin, and every movement was a joy to behold. + +The bridesmaids placed her at their head, and all together they +ascended the path towards the kraal. They sang a song as they went, but +the song was sad. It was their farewell to a friend who would play with +them no more in the old home, and who had come to a strange life in a +distant land. + +At the gate of the kraal they met Inkosesana, who proudly stepped +before them and was the first to meet the glances of the +wedding-guests. All clapped and greeted her with great approval, but +their eager eyes looked beyond her to the mysterious sister. When +Lalhiwe appeared in all her perfect grace, shouts of joy and surprise +were heard on all sides. + +“She is lovely!” cried all the guests. “There is no one so beautiful in +all our land!” + +When the two brides appeared before the King and danced in the great +cattle-kraal according to custom, he was struck dumb with amazement, +and never took his eyes from Lalhiwe. When the wedding was over he +called the two councillors and gave them each twenty beautiful oxen. +“You have shown yourselves wise and trusty councillors,” said he. +“Lalhiwe is beautiful beyond belief. Choose all my finest cattle, let +them all be young, and send them as a marriage-gift to her father’s +kraal. Let the first herd be the marriage-gift for Inkosesana, but let +Lalhiwe have such a dowry as has never been seen before in our land.” + +The King’s commands were carried out. Great was the rejoicing and +wonder of Lalhiwe’s mother when the marvellous herd of cattle arrived. +She had never expected such honour to come upon her child. But her +rival hid herself in her hut, filled with bitter disappointment. She +sulked alone for months, nor did she ever recover her old position in +the kraal. + + + + + + + + +XIII + +THE REWARD OF INDUSTRY + +A ZULU TALE + + +At the foot of the great hills which lie on the borders of Swaziland a +river flows among wide grassy plains. Trees line its banks throughout +its course, and great herds of buck come down to the water to drink at +night. It is a rich and beautiful country, and there, long years ago, +lived a young Chief and his wife. They were very happy, and had +everything they wanted. Two lovely little girls were born to them, and +then, one sad day, the father died, and his wife was left all alone. +Her husband had no brother who would take her to his kraal and provide +for her, so she was thrown on her own resources, and had nothing but +what she could find herself. For a while she worked hard, and tilled +her lands with the help of the two little girls, but when autumn came +her crops were poor. There was not enough grain to last till the next +harvest. + +So when the spring rains fell and the seed was set, she turned to her +children and said, “There will soon be no more corn for us to eat. We +must leave the kraal and go to grandmother. She will give us corn and +mealies to last till harvest-time.” + +The little girls were delighted, for they loved a journey, and all set +forth along the path which led towards the mountains. It was very +narrow, so they went one behind another, the mother leading the way. + +It was a beautiful spring morning. Great white clouds shone in the blue +sky, the grass was getting greener every day, and the plain was +carpeted with clusters of the most lovely flowers. First came whole +companies of scarlet lynx-ear, then followed great patches of a tiny +bright blue flower, and then again nothing but white blossoms, which +turned inky-black as they faded. The little girls laughed and +chattered, and sometimes sang a song of travel, for it was a holiday, +and they were happy. + +Then they left the flat plains and began to ascend the course of a tiny +stream which came down from the hills. The path led in and out among +huge rocks and tall trees hung with creepers. Little ferns were +beginning to show their fronds, and here and there nodded a brilliant +scarlet daisy. The mother still walked first, and the bushes grew +thicker and thicker. + +The path gave a sharp turn, and there, right before them, lay an +enormous snake. He was coiled in the very middle of the narrow road, +and his wicked head was poised ready to attack them. In truth, he was +an ogre in disguise, for he looked at the mother and said at once in a +deep voice, “Where are you going to?” + +The poor mother fled shrieking into the thorny bush, but the snake was +much quicker than she. He threw himself round her in great folds, and +in a few minutes he had eaten her up. The two little girls ran on as +hard as ever they could and plunged in among the bushes till they came +to a great rock. There they hid themselves, shaking in every limb, and +not daring even to look for food. + +Many hours passed by and the sun was getting low. The children were +faint with hunger, and began to cry bitterly at the thought of their +mother. Then they heard footsteps coming through the grass. They sat up +and listened; this was no snake. Presently an old woman came in sight +carrying a little pot of food on her head. She had a kind face, and +directly she saw the little girls she stopped and said, “Why do you +hide right under the rock, and why are you crying?” + +“Our father and mother are both dead,” said the little girls, “and we +don’t know where our grandmother lives.” + +“Wipe away your tears,” said the old woman. “I will be your +grandmother.” + +Then she sat down and spoke kindly to them till they felt comforted and +happy. “Now,” said she, “I will provide for you. I will change both you +and myself into beautiful birds. We will live in the forest, and no one +shall have any power to harm us.” + +And immediately all happened as the old woman said, for she was a great +and powerful Fairy and no old woman at all. And they flew far away into +a big forest where no man ever came. There they lived in perfect ease, +twittering gaily all day long, bathing in the clear streams, and flying +in and out among green ferns and many-coloured lilies. + +But one day the Fairy said to the girls, “You are grown up now, and can +no longer live carelessly like birds. Now we must travel and seek our +fortune.” + +So they left the forest and flew for many days till they came to a big +city, where a famous Chief ruled. There they stopped. The Fairy became +an old woman once more, and she changed the two girls back into their +original form. Only now they were women grown, and as pretty as they +could be. + +The next morning she asked to see the King’s chief councillor. As soon +as she entered the hut she saluted him respectfully, saying: + +“I see you, Chief.” + +“I see you,” answered the Induna. + +“I am come here to ask if I and my two grand-daughters may live here +under the protection of the great King.” + +“Why do you want to come?” asked the Induna. “Have you no kindred to +whom you belong?” + +“The girls have lost both father and mother by witchcraft,” said the +old Fairy. “I am their only living relation, and I want to find them a +home, for I am old.” + +“They are beautiful girls,” said the Induna. “I will give you lands +which you may cultivate, and space within the city on which to build +your hut.” + +The Induna then appointed men who should show them the land for their +hut and help them to set the framework. A Kafir hut, you know, is round +and thatched with grass, very like an old-fashioned bee-hive. Men set +the framework with strong supple boughs; then the women come and thatch +from top to bottom with their clever fingers. As soon as the King’s men +had gone, the old Fairy and the two girls set to work. It often takes +many days to complete a hut, but so well did they work that by sundown +the hut was finished, even to a beautiful little screen before the door +to keep off the wind. Not only had they been quicker than any women +before known, but the thatch was also finer than any in the whole city. +The marvel of their neighbours may be imagined. The next day they +cleared away the grass before the entrance and put up the neatest and +most beautiful fence in the whole country-side. + +Then when their home was ready, they set out to hoe their lands. These +lay at some distance from the kraal, at the outermost border of the +lands already tilled. + +“Now,” said the Fairy, “I am too old to wield a hoe, but you, my +daughters, are strong. Each of you must take your pick and work +straight ahead without looking behind you. I will follow behind, gather +the weeds, and clear everything up.” + +It was early morning, and the mists had barely risen from the hills. +The wide veld lay before them, and stretched in long golden lines to +the sharp blue mountain peaks on the horizon. The girls did as they +were bid. They worked steadily till mid-day, singing gaily all the +while; nor did they once look behind them. When the sun was at its +height they stopped to rest. They were amazed to see the extent of +ground they had cleared, and could not believe it possible. The old +Fairy smiled and said, “We will come again to-morrow and do yet +better.” + +They came the next day, and yet many days. Their lands grew and grew +till at length they had hoed more land than the King himself, who could +have as many workers as he wished. Their neighbours began to notice +them. “These girls are not only beautiful,” said they, “they are strong +and willing, and work like no one we have ever seen. Their lands are +better than those of the King himself.” + +That year the rains came early. The golden hues of winter changed as +the young grass sprang up, and hundreds of flowers appeared to delight +the eye. Every one had good crops that summer, but the Fairy’s mealies +were taller and greener than those of any one in the King’s dominions. + +It was not long before the King was told of these wonderful strangers. +“I must see for myself,” said the King. “No doubt it is not so +wonderful as they say. People talk so much.” + +But when he walked out himself and saw the land hoed by the Fairy and +her maidens, he was astonished beyond belief; the field was far larger +even than he had heard, and the mealies taller than himself or any of +his men. The next day he commanded the old woman and her +grand-daughters to appear before him. An Induna brought them into the +King’s presence. + +“How is it,” said the King, “that you have been able to hoe such +enormous lands? Your mealies and corn are better than mine, though I +can have hundreds of men to work for me.” + +“King of Kings,” said the wise old Fairy, “I am the daughter of a very +mighty King, and these girls are my daughter’s children. A mighty King, +as you know, has great power, and can do more than other men.” + +“I am indeed pleased,” said the King, “to see that your daughters are +such beautiful girls. I am too old to marry them myself, but I have two +fine young Princes who are just of an age to wed. I should not like +your daughters to marry any one else, for such maidens are the ones who +should marry great Chiefs. They are not only beautiful, but industrious +and strong beyond all other women.” + +So the marriages were arranged, and the two maidens, who had lost both +father and mother, became the wives of the bravest and finest of all +the King’s sons. Many hundreds of cattle were given to the Fairy +grandmother in exchange for her daughters, and great were the +rejoicings throughout the whole city. + +The Fairy stayed till she saw that both her adopted children were happy +and well-beloved. Then one day she divided her cattle between them, +kissed them farewell, and disappeared. + + + + + + + + +XIV + +THE STORY OF SEMAI-MAI + +A SWAZI TALE + +PART I + +SEMAI-MAI THE CANNIBAL KING + + +Among all the people of the Kafirs there was never a King more feared +and hated than Semai-mai. He was known for his bad deeds far and wide, +and was the terror of every tribe within many days’ journey of his +kingdom. It is true he was a splendid warrior and had never once +suffered defeat, but he was unjust and cruel beyond belief. His people +were numerous and powerful, for Semai-mai ruled over many great kraals, +and had thousands of warriors at his command. Though their Chief was +wicked they were a kind and just people, and often hated their lord’s +deeds. But what could they do? The first duty of every man is to be +loyal to his ruler, and as yet no one had dared to disobey. Semai-mai +was known far and wide as the “Wicked King,” and every day he grew in +iniquity. + +You shall hear how at last he destroyed himself by his own lawlessness, +and lost his human form. + +One day he called his greatest magicians together and said, “Make +strong potions and magic draughts for my army, so that they may be able +to conquer any enemy. I go to fight a great King who lives in a very +distant country.” + +The potions were prepared and the impis called out; the wizards treated +every man with magic spells used only in time of war, and gave him the +wonderful drink which confers bravery and turns away the weapons of the +enemy. Then they told Semai-mai that all was ready. The impis stood in +line, each company in its place, every man complete with shield and +assegai, and magnificently adorned with the velvety-brown otter-skin or +the golden leopard. They waited in silence for their orders, but no +orders came. + +Semai-mai sent word by his chief general that he intended to lead them +himself, but no mention was made of the enemy’s name, and their +destination remained secret. The next day he appeared, gloomier and +fiercer than ever before, and placed himself at the head of his +body-guard, who marched behind their Chief in silent terror. + +He led them right up the mountains into a wide desolate valley. Two +pillars of rock guarded the entrance; within were huge red boulders +interspersed with trees. On either side rose tall cliffs, which glowed +in the mid-day sun. The men knew the valley well, and never willingly +entered it. A great and powerful Fairy was said to live there whom it +was well not to offend. Many men had entered it when hunting, and had +never returned or been seen again. At the gate of the valley strange +spirits answered if one spoke in the merest whisper; it was a place +better avoided by all right-thinking men, and every warrior had a +feeling of vague discomfort as he passed the mighty pillars and knew he +was on haunted ground. + +Semai-mai went forward to a clear space among the great boulders, and +there ordered his regiments to stand in ranks before him. + +He was an immense man, a head and shoulders above any warrior in his +army, deep in the chest, with an arm so strong he could fell an ox with +a blow of his knobkerrie. [18] He stood in the fierce sunlight, sullen +and magnificent, and surveyed his men. Then he spoke. + +“You have not yet had your orders for this raid,” said he. “Now, hear +them! From henceforth I have resolved to live on human flesh. Those +that join me shall see glorious fighting and great conquests. As for +those that refuse, they shall die, and their carcases shall be embalmed +by my magicians. I shall expose them on these great rocks, and all men +shall see the wretches who dared to disobey their King.” + +The whole army held their breath with amazement and horror. They had +never supposed that their King would thus dare to cast off all +restraint. No one spoke. The King looked around with gloomy fierceness. +Then, raising his spear and speaking in an immense voice, he shouted: + +“Let those that love me stand on one side. Those that hate me may sit +down.” + +More than half the men sat down. Semai-mai scowled yet more deeply, but +continued firm in his wicked purpose, though he saw it would cost him +more than half his army. He turned to his remaining followers and said: + +“Our motto shall be henceforth, ‘We live on human flesh and belong to +the alligators.’ Kill these disobedient dogs, and set their bodies on +the rocks.” + +His men at once fell on the rebels, who did not resist them. Each man +died where he sat, for the King was great, and his orders must be +obeyed. Then the wizards prepared strange potions and ointments, and +every body was embalmed, so that time should not destroy it, but that +it should remain a witness for ever. Last of all, the dead warriors +were taken and placed on every great rock and along the ledges in the +tall red cliffs. The sun blazed down on them; in the quivering air +every man could be seen, deep brown against the glowing rocks. + +When all was done Semai-mai marshalled his forces, looked on the dead +with joy, and bade his men go forward. They ranged themselves in the +accustomed order, but as they filed up the mountain-path each man +noticed for the first time that his neighbour’s hair was brick-red. +They instantly feared witchcraft, and remembered the tales of the great +Fairy who ruled over the valley. But Semai-mai laughed at their fears, +and bade them show courage. He gave orders that they were to kill and +spare none, neither women nor children. Only cattle and sheep might be +brought away. + +They travelled across the mountains till they came to a wide fertile +valley, in which was a great city. Semai-mai sent spies to view the +land. They reported that the people were peaceful and unsuspecting, and +that great success might be expected from an attack. They were ruled by +a King named Sobuso, who appeared to be much beloved. One strange thing +they had observed; all the women were beautiful, but the men were +absolutely hideous. + +“Well, we shall kill them all, so it is of no consequence,” said +Semai-mai, and he bade an impi attack the very next day. The men crept +up to the city in the early dawn, rushed in at the gate, and began +killing all they could see. But to their amazement, no sooner had they +felled a man to the ground than he rose to his feet again. As fast as +they killed one man another came to life. Not only that, but they found +that they themselves were becoming as thin as reeds and as light as +dust; their blows carried no weight, and they were as ghosts beating +the air ineffectually. + +Great fear came into their hearts, and they wavered and turned to fly. +“You cowards!” shouted Semai-mai, appearing at the gate. “Let me come +and kill.” He rushed forward and attacked the foremost of the enemy. +But as his assegai pierced the foe he found his own huge form shrinking +into nothing, his arm was weak and nerveless, and as his opponent rose +again to attack him, he fled shrieking, followed by all his men. + +The enemy rushed after them, brandishing their assegais, and shouting +hoarse war-cries: “Shi-sha-she! Si-me-pe! Si-ko-mo! Si! Pe! The Cattle! +Where are they? The Cattle!” + +With every hissing cry a man fell, and the mountain-side was strewn +with their bodies. On and on they fled, till all were killed but +Semai-mai. Only he still held out, and ran, panting but alive, to the +very gates of the great valley where the dead men sat in the sunshine. + +There both he and his pursuers stopped, for before them stood a most +beautiful woman. + +With one look of command she bade them all follow her, for this was the +Fairy of the valley. “I have been waiting for you,” said she. “Come and +see what this wicked King has done.” + +Then she led them down among the great rocks, King Sobuso and all his +men, but Semai-mai she bound by invisible power on the top of a huge +boulder, where he must see all and could not move. + +Slowly she led the warriors into the very centre of the great valley. +There she bade them look up. In the red glow of the setting sun they +saw the black forms of the men who refused to follow the cannibal King. +Each sat propped against his ledge of glowing stone; they looked still +as if they were sitting in council. + +“Night will soon be here,” said the Fairy. “You shall see what I can +do.” + +Then she bade the warriors sit down and wait, and began to brew a magic +potion. And Semai-mai sat too and waited on the rocks above, for he +could not stir hand or foot. Cold fear came into his soul as he saw the +fires lit in the valley below, and watched the wonderful woman at work. +She was still busy when night fell and the stars came out in the purple +sky. Then she got torches ready, sprinkled them with her wonderful +liquid, and lit them at the fire. She gave one to Sobuso, and then to +all his generals in turn. Lastly she took one herself, and signed to +the men to follow. They leapt from rock to rock throughout the valley, +carrying the torches along every ledge, till every man was visible. As +the magic fire approached him, each dead warrior sprang to life, and in +a few moments a living army filled the valley. Then the Fairy bade them +all descend to the open space below, and tell their story to Sobuso. +The chief Induna spoke, and all listened in silence. + +“You did right,” said Sobuso at length. “Your wicked King is powerless +now. Come to me; I will give you wives and lands, for such men are +those I want.” + +Great was the joy of every man when he heard these words, for Sobuso +was known as the best and wisest King in all the mountain country. They +were about to depart when the Fairy stopped them once more. + +“And now,” said she, in a high clear voice, which echoed many times in +the darkness, “let Semai-mai, the cannibal King, descend and see his +men.” + +And Semai-mai found his chains loosed, but a power he could not resist +drew him down till he stood in the very centre, in the full light of +the blazing fires. His former subjects closed in round him; at one end +stood Sobuso and his generals, at the other the Fairy of the valley. + +“You see here,” said the Fairy, “Semai-mai, the wicked King. Because he +has done injustice all his life and rejoiced in cruelty, I judge him no +longer worthy to remain a man. He shall become a dog and live as a dog +lives. Only, as he was a great King and a brave warrior, I give him +magic powers and one powerful weapon. He shall have a long nail on one +foot, bright and sharp as a sword. And if he is a faithful dog and true +to his master he may one day become a man again. But if he continues +cruel and unjust a still greater curse shall fall on him.” + +Even as she spoke the horror-stricken army saw their great Chief fall +forward and touch the ground with his hands. In the red firelight his +form changed, and in a minute a great brown dog stood in the place of +the superb Semai-mai. It looked round with a furtive air, and then +turned in silence. The men all sprang aside to let it through, and a +moment later it trotted into the darkness. + + + + + + + + +XV + +THE STORY OF SEMAI-MAI + +PART II + +THE FAIRY DOG + + +All that night and the whole of the next day Semai-mai trotted steadily +up and down the mountain-paths. No man saw him, for he avoided every +valley which seemed to be inhabited. He was determined to get as far as +possible from the scene of his defeat, into a country where the name of +Semai-mai had never been heard. He travelled for three days, and had +then covered as much ground as a man would traverse in seven. He began +to feel safer and more himself again, and turned over the situation in +his mind. His shame and rage had at first been great, but he now saw +that all was not lost. It is true he was but a dog, but the wonderful +nail on his foot was all that the Fairy had promised. It was three feet +long and six inches broad, and cut far better than any axe or +hunting-knife he had ever possessed. Not only this, but he found that +he only had to express a wish for food and it instantly appeared. Most +excellent food it was, too; never had he tasted better. He also found +that he could call down a mist at any moment in which to hide himself +from an enemy, and he felt sure that time would show him yet greater +marvels. Life still held enjoyments, and with patience and care he +might regain much of his former power. + +He cocked his ears, curled his bushy tail with an air of assurance, and +went forward, determined to find a home in the kraal of the nearest +Chief. Before long he came to the end of the mountain country. A great +plain lay before him, well wooded, and watered by a broad river. Not +many miles below was an immense kraal; the tiny brown huts could be +seen distinctly in the clear air, and the green mealie-fields which +surrounded the town. The cattle enclosure was very large; evidently the +Chief was rich. + +“I will descend and see what sort of a King this is,” said Semai-mai, +and in an hour he was standing at the chief gate. Every one saw at once +that he was no ordinary dog, and before many days were over he was in +attendance on the King and was fed from his table. Now this was +unfortunate, for the King was a cannibal, and Semai-mai was encouraged +in his wicked tastes instead of learning to forget them. The King kept +all his prisoners-of-war and fattened them up, and when a great feast +arrived the best were killed and eaten with much rejoicing. + +One day, a few months after Semai-mai’s arrival, the most lovely little +boy was brought to the kraal. He had been stolen by a band of robbers +while sleeping out in the fields, and they had carried him many days, +hoping he would be a dainty morsel acceptable to the King. But the boy +was so beautiful and his bearing so unusual that the King had him +examined by his magicians. They unanimously declared him to be of royal +blood, and as the King did not usually eat his equals, he said that the +young Prince should be kept alive and brought up with his own sons. He +also gave him Semai-mai, the fairy dog, as his servant, and treated him +with much kindness. + +Semai-mai liked the little boy; he ran his errands, went out hunting +with him, chopped the wood for his fire, and slept in his hut at +nights. The little Prince loved him in return, and they ate together +from the King’s own dishes. By and by the Prince told him all he knew +about himself. He was the only son of his father, who was a big Chief, +and they lived up among the mountains. His mother would look for him +everywhere; she was directing her maidens in the fields when he was +carried away; some day she would be sure to come for him. + +Semai-mai soon felt certain that the little boy came from some kingdom +near his own, and he also looked eagerly for the boy’s mother when any +woman arrived at the kraal, but no news ever came. Years went by. The +Prince was now a well-grown youth, and Semai-mai continued his faithful +friend. But while the Prince always avoided the cannibal repasts which +came at the great festivals, Semai-mai enjoyed them, for his heart was +unchanged. + +One day an old woman came to the kraal to beg the King’s protection. +She was poorly dressed and footsore, and her eyes had a wild look. The +Prince and Semai-mai came to see her, more by habit than because they +now expected any one. But the instant the Prince heard her speak he +recognised his mother’s voice. + +“Say nothing now,” was Semai-mai’s advice when he heard the news. “The +King will doubtless put her in a hut to be fattened with the other +prisoners, for she is old and useless. Watch your opportunity, and we +will all escape and live in wealth elsewhere.” + +A few nights later the Prince went to the hut where his old mother was. +She nearly died of joy and surprise when she heard his name. + +“Your father told me never to appear in his presence till I could bring +you with me,” said she. “For years I have wandered in search of you. +Your father had no other son; you were the pride of his heart and I his +favourite wife till I lost you in the mealie-fields. I had given up all +hopes of ever seeing home again, and believed you long since dead.” + +“We will go home again and rule as before,” said the Prince, smiling +gaily. “I had forgotten the way to my father’s kingdom, but you will +show me. Say no word of our relationship; I must think over a plan of +escape.” + +Every day a man came to look at the old Queen and see if she was +fattening well. Presently he announced to the King that the prisoners +were all in excellent condition, and a feast-day might be appointed +when it pleased the great Chief. The King then went to inspect the +prisoners himself, declared them to be ready, and chose a day for the +rejoicings. + +Immediately every one in the kraal, man, woman, and child, went out to +collect wood at early dawn, for great fires would be needed. As soon as +the city was deserted the Prince and Semai-mai released the old Queen, +collected all the cattle they could find in the fields, and started +hot-foot for the mountains. + +That evening the whole company returned and found the Prince and the +old woman gone. They tracked them by the footprints of the cattle, and +sent warriors after them. But as soon as they began to overtake the +fugitives—for the cattle were slow—Semai-mai threw a beautiful rainbow +mist all round himself and his friends, so that they could never be +seen. After many vain attempts the cannibals retired baffled, and gave +up the chase in despair. All along the road Semai-mai had only to bark +when food was wanted, and a plentiful meal instantly appeared. When +they had all had enough he barked again, and not a trace of the food +remained. + +At the end of many days they came to the outskirts of the Prince’s own +country. But here Semai-mai said, “We will not make ourselves known as +yet; we will live alone.” For he was afraid the Prince might hear by +some unlucky chance who he really was, and his power would be gone. + +So for a long while the three lived together in a fertile valley by the +side of a clear stream. Their cattle grew and increased till they +became a noble herd. The Prince was now a man, and both rich and +handsome. All went happily till one day he went out hunting and met a +party of very pretty girls. They came, they said, from a kingdom among +the mountains. The men of their people were ugly, but not a woman among +them was plain, and many were far prettier than themselves. + +The Prince longed to see this kingdom, and remembered he was now of an +age to marry, and had besides many cattle and a beautiful home. So he +sat by his mother that evening and said, “It is time I looked for a +nice little wife. You want help in the house, and would like some one +to grind the corn and carry water and wood.” The mother was pleased at +the idea, but the dog sat still in sullen silence. Who might this wife +be? Hitherto he had ruled both the Prince and his mother, but this new +woman might spoil all. + +The next day the Prince set out for the kingdom where all the men were +ugly and all the women beautiful; you can guess it was the kingdom of +Sobuso. Before long he had won the heart of a lovely girl, the daughter +of a great Chief, and niece of the King himself. All arrangements were +made for the wedding, and the Prince departed joyously for home, to +tell his mother of his success. + +All was got into order for the bride, and the appointed number of +cattle were sent to her father, in accordance with custom. Every day +Semai-mai grew more and more gloomy. The Prince and his mother thought +little of it, and never once imagined that he disapproved of the +marriage. But now that Semai-mai knew that the bride came from Sobuso’s +kingdom, he determined to make an end of everything. As soon as he knew +that the wedding-party was in sight he killed both the Prince and his +mother with his long bright nail, and ate them right up. + +Then he sat down in the sun before the door of the hut, looking very +big and important. The Princess came up to the gate with her attendant +maids, in all her bravest attire, and looked for the bridegroom and his +mother. She waited a long time, then ventured forward and looked all +round the kraal. Not a living thing could be seen save this huge brown +dog. Presently Semai-mai came up to them and said, “The Prince is +waiting in the big hut, let me show you in.” + +The Princess and her maids followed him, much astonished to find a +talking dog. Semai-mai took them into the biggest hut and made them sit +round. Then he killed and ate them all in turn, beginning at the bride +and finishing with the youngest bridesmaid. When all was over he went +out and sat in the sun once more. Only now he was larger than any dog +that ever was seen, for after every meal he grew bigger and bigger. + +Many weeks passed by, and the bridal party never returned to give news +of the wedding. The Princess’s father grew anxious, for no one +appeared, nor was there any message. At last he sent a party of men to +find out what had happened. Semai-mai saw them coming, and caught them +all in the big hut, just as he had caught the bridal party. He ate them +all but one, who slipped out by a lucky chance. Semai-mai was now +bigger than an elephant, and the man who escaped ran home and said the +enemy was an enormous dog, who was a cannibal. + +The Chief cried out, “What fools and cowards serve me! I will go and +kill the monster myself.” So he took a shield and assegais and some +picked men and set out for the dog’s kraal. When he saw him and +realised how huge he was, his surprise was very great. For Semai-mai +was now taller and bigger than the largest hut, and could be seen from +the entrance of the valley. The Chief advanced bravely, and he and his +men let fly their assegais, but not one touched Semai-mai. He simply +shook himself, sprang on the Chief and ate him, and then killed nearly +all his men. Only a very few escaped, and they ran back to the kingdom +of Sobuso in wild terror, declaring that no one could hope to conquer +the fairy dog. + +Semai-mai in the meantime gathered all his master’s cattle together and +set out for his former kingdom. Before many days were over he had +reached the great plain in which his people lived. But now he saw +nothing but a huge forest extending for many miles; not a single +habitation was to be seen where formerly great cities flourished. His +heart failed him for a moment; then he lifted his head and barked three +times. + +Instantly the forest disappeared; then great cities rose in its place, +and thousands of warriors came out in warlike array to greet him. +Semai-mai had released his people from enchantment. But he himself +still remained an enormous dog; nor, in spite of his great powers, did +he find it possible to make any change. + +For a long time no friend of the Princess or her father dared to +venture within reach of the fairy dog. But the dead Chief was a very +great man, and brother to Sobuso himself, so it was not long before the +story came to the latter’s ears. At first he could hardly believe it, +but when he found the tale was true, and his relatives had really been +destroyed by a cannibal dog, he determined to rid the country of such a +monster. So he called out all his army and bade his magicians treat +them with every charm they knew. Then he assembled them together. +“Whatever happens,” said he, “this dog must die. I myself will be the +first to attack him.” + +It was not long before they found out Semai-mai’s new home. After a +journey of many weeks across the mountains they came in sight of the +three great cities. From the heights above they could see Semai-mai’s +hut in the middle of the city, close to the cattle-kraal. It was +impossible to mistake it, for it was four times as big as any hut they +had ever seen. Sobuso sent out spies, and then waited all day for their +report. At night they returned, but they brought bad news. “You have no +idea how mighty the enemy is,” said they. “No assegai is big enough to +kill him, and no man tall enough to throw it. We must return home and +make special weapons, or our cause is hopeless.” + +Sobuso was much depressed. “Leave me alone,” he said. “I must think out +fresh plans.” + +So he sat alone for many hours. Night came suddenly and quietly, and +every man was soon asleep. It was very very still, and the air was +warm. Only the frogs could be heard croaking far away along the +river-banks. Sobuso thought and thought, but could see no way out save +retreat. He remembered now his fight long ago with Semai-mai; if this +dog were no other than that famous Chief only magic could help him, for +no one had beaten Semai-mai by his own strength. + +Before him lay the great plain and the dim outlines of his enemy’s +kraals, scarcely to be distinguished in the warm darkness. Then +suddenly, at the very outer edge of the world, appeared a line of +amethyst. The line widened and gradually moved forward. A wide circle +of faint blue mountains then came into view, beneath them great plains +of silvery green, and last of all the three cities, every hut distinct +and clear. The moon was rising behind the mountains. A moment later its +rays touched Sobuso himself. A strange shadow lay on the grass before +him. He turned quickly and saw before him a most extraordinary +creature. + +It was a very old woman, leaning on an immense assegai, much taller +than herself. In her hand she held two calabashes. She had not a tooth +in her mouth, and her head was covered with long hair, so that you +could only see her eyes. She had no feet, only two long toes. She stood +with her back to the moon; Sobuso felt her gaze on him, but could +distinguish no features. + +“Great King,” she cried, “you shall kill Semai-mai.” + +“It is impossible; I have no assegai big enough.” + +“King of Kings,” said the old woman, “take these two calabashes of +medicine and this assegai. They come to you from the Fairy of the +valley; Semai-mai shall now be rendered powerless for ever. In the +early morning, when all your men are still asleep, rise up and sprinkle +the contents of this first calabash on them. Stand so that the wind +blows from you towards them and carries the magic drops. Sprinkle it +then on yourself, and you and all your army will be invisible. Never +let this assegai go out of your hand. Go up to Semai-mai. He will not +see you, stab him with the assegai and then throw the contents of the +second calabash over him. You must cut off his big nail, and strike him +with it three times; he will then be powerless to harm you.” + +A cloud came over the moon, and when it passed away Sobuso found the +old woman was gone. But the assegai and two calabashes were on the +ground, and he picked them up and went to a spot above his sleeping +men. He waited till a tiny breeze sprang up before daybreak. Then he +sprinkled them with the magic drops, and at dawn he set them in order +and all marched down to the gates of Semai-mai’s royal city. The sun +was fully up, and the huge dog could be seen moving about the kraal +like a big house. He had hundreds of wives and many thousands of +cattle, and he walked about, gloating over his possessions. Sobuso sent +in a few of his men to make sure that the potion had worked well. They +returned, saying that they had moved everywhere freely, and had even +gone up to the royal hut, but no one had paid them the least attention. + +Sobuso and his men then entered the gate and marched straight up the +chief road. No one regarded them, so they were soon within reach of +Semai-mai. Sobuso took his assegai and aimed it right at the dog’s +head. He fell down stunned, with an immense thud. Sobuso rushed +forward, cut off the long nail at one blow, and threw the second +calabash over the monster. Then he struck him three times with the +shining nail. + +Straightway the dog’s side opened and out came first the bridegroom, +then his mother, then the bride and her maids, and last of all Sobuso’s +brother and all his men. As each appeared in turn Semai-mai grew +smaller and smaller, till at last he was no bigger than an ordinary +dog. + +There was great rejoicing, as you may imagine, and when all were united +they held a council as to what they should do with Semai-mai’s +possessions. Finally, they divided all his property and people into +three parts. One part went to the Prince, another to the Princess’s +father, and the third to Sobuso himself, who had rescued them from such +great peril. + +As for Semai-mai, when all was over he revived and sprang to his feet +again. But the Fairy’s curse had been carried out. He was now just an +ordinary dog. He could not kill his enemy or speak like a man, nor had +he any magic power. No one would be in any danger from him again. He +ran far away to the cannibal King who first befriended him, and was fed +from his table for the rest of his life. + + + + + + + + +XVI + +THE FAIRY FROG + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Tombi-ende was the most beautiful girl in her father’s kingdom. She had +milk-white teeth and sparkling eyes, her figure was perfect and very +gracefully turned, and no one could lead the dance half so well as she. +Besides, you could not help noticing her the moment she appeared, for +she was taller than all her sisters, and carried her head like a true +Princess. Her parents looked on her daily with joy and pride. They +called her Tombi-ende, “the Tall Maiden,” and expected she would one +day be a mighty Queen. + +But no one has an altogether happy lot. And though Tombi-ende was tall +and beautiful, and had the gayest and most wonderful handkerchiefs with +which to deck herself, and more beads and bracelets than any other girl +in the country-side, this only gave her the more trouble. For none of +her sisters were as pretty as she, or as much admired, and as time went +on they grew more and more jealous. At last they decided that +Tombi-ende must die, or no one would ever notice them at all. + +So they made a plan to kill their sister as if by accident. One day +they all came to her and said, “Let us go and get red ochre [19] out of +the great pit; there is none left in the kraal at all.” + +So every maiden shouldered her pick, and they walked together, singing +and laughing, for many miles. At last they reached a great red pit, +many feet deep, surrounded by tall grass on every side. There they +stopped; each girl leapt down in turn, dug out a lump of the precious +red earth, and then jumped up again. They all stood round the pit +waiting for one another. But directly Tombi-ende jumped down, every one +of those wicked girls seized her pick and threw earth upon her as fast +as she could, till poor Tombi-ende was buried alive. Then they ran +away, leaving her for dead, for the red earth is very heavy. + +But Tombi-ende was not dead. The people who passed heard screams coming +from the pit, and sometimes a voice calling: + + + “I am Tombi-ende, + I am not dead, + I am like one of yourselves.” + + +Two men turned out of the path and looked down into the great hole, but +all they could see was the red earth glistening in the sun, so they +turned away and walked on. + +The wicked sisters meanwhile went back to their father’s kraal and told +all whom they met, “Tombi-ende is dead. She fell down into the red +ochre pit and was smothered.” But when the King came to question them +they grew confused, and could not tell their tale. So he chopped off +their heads there and then with a great battle-axe, and gave their +bodies to the vultures. And that would have been the end of them had +not a dear good old Fairy come along who knew that Tombi-ende was not +dead, and was sorry to see her sisters so severely punished. She went +to the bodies and sprinkled them with medicine from her magic calabash. +The sisters sat up at once, alive and well, rubbing their eyes. “Take +the girls away and keep them out of the King’s sight till Tombi-ende +returns,” said the Fairy, and every one was only too glad to obey her. + +Tombi-ende lay in the red ochre pit for many hours, and thought no one +would ever rescue her. But at evening she heard a great croaking above +her. Looking up she saw an enormous frog blinking his little eyes at +the edge of the pit. + +“Beautiful Princess,” said he, “what are you doing here?” + +“Alas!” said Tombi-ende, “my sisters are jealous of me and hate me, and +they have left me here and thrown earth upon me, so that I cannot get +out.” + +“I will help you,” said the frog. He jumped into the pit, opened his +big mouth and swallowed the Princess entirely. Then he jumped up again, +and landed safely on the path above, the Princess still inside him. + +Forthwith the frog set out on his travels. He hopped all night, +carefully avoiding any kraals by the way, for a frog brings bad luck, +and is not welcome in human dwellings. Whenever he passed a bird he +sang: + + + “Do not swallow me, + I carry the Princess Tombi-ende,” + + +and no creature touched him. The next morning they narrowly escaped a +great danger, for they met a horrible ogress. She had heard that +Tombi-ende was still alive and defenceless, and had already been to the +red ochre pit and found it empty. Now she was searching for her +everywhere in savage haste, but luckily she paid no attention to a big +frog, and went her way without heeding its appearance. + +At mid-day the frog stopped, opened his mouth, and let the Princess +walk out. Then he said, “Wait here and rest. By and by we will go on +again.” He also provided food; he merely croaked, and delicious +porridge appeared in a little brown pot, all ready for the Princess to +eat. + +Tombi-ende ate and then slept under the bushes, for she was very tired. +Towards evening the frog swallowed her again, and they set forth once +more on their journey. They had decided not to go back to her father’s +kraal, for fear of her jealous sisters, but journeyed towards the home +of her grandmother, where she was sure of every welcome. They travelled +for days, resting in the heat, but never stopping all night long, and +one morning they arrived at the grandmother’s kraal. + +The frog went up to the door of the chief hut and sang loudly: + + + “I am carrying Tombi-ende, + The Beautiful Princess, + Whom they killed in the red pit.” + + +The old grandmother came out, saying, “Who is this speaking? Who knows +what has become of my darling Tombi-ende?” + +“I know all about her,” said the frog. “Bring clean mats, spread them +before me, and you will see.” + +All the women brought fine new mats and put them before the frog. When +all was ready the frog just said, “Woo-oo-oh!” and in a moment +Tombi-ende herself was before them, as tall and beautiful as ever. + +Great was the joy of all, and no one could hear her tale often enough, +or her praises of the wonderful frog. + +“What can we do for you as a reward for your kindness?” said the +grandmother to the frog. “Is there nothing we can give you?” + +“I only ask you to kill two oxen and two bulls,” said the frog, “and +let us have a feast.” + +So a great feast was held, and the frog sat by the Princess’s side and +had great honour. Next morning he had disappeared, and though the +Princess searched for him all round the kraal he could nowhere be +found. + +The grandmother knew that Tombi-ende was now in no danger at home, so +she sent a message to her father to tell him of his daughter’s safety. +The King was much delighted, and at once despatched Tombi-ende’s +brother to fetch her home. He rested a few days at the kraal, for the +journey was long, and then they both set out on their return. + +Now the rains had been short that year, and many streams were dry. The +sun was very hot, and after hours of walking the Princess and her +brother were very thirsty. Nowhere could they find the accustomed +springs, for the ground was harder than brick dried in an oven, and the +water-courses were dry. They went on and on till they were fainting +with the heat. Suddenly they met a stranger, an immensely big man, who +stood right across the path. Except for his size he was like other men, +and they did not at first distrust him. + +“What do you want?” said he in a deep bass voice, which rumbled like +thunder. + +“We are looking for water,” said the Prince; “all the springs are dried +up, and we are yet many days from home.” + +“If I give you water,” said the giant, “what will you give me in +return?” + +“Ask for anything in my father’s kingdom,” said the Prince. + +“Give me this beautiful Princess,” said the giant, with a wicked smile. +“If not, you will die of thirst. All the springs are dry within three +days’ journey.” + +The brother and sister were in dismay, but although the Prince hated +the idea of giving his sister to a stranger, they were both so helpless +that he could only consent. + +The giant chuckled, and led the way to a great fig-tree by the side of +the dry water-course. He struck his stick upon the ground, and out of +the very roots of the tree sprang a fountain clear as the moon and cool +as the depths of the forest. They all drank eagerly and long, and it +was only after some minutes that the Princess lifted her head and +looked towards the giant. She shrieked long and loud, for the giant had +turned to a most terrible Inzimu, monstrous and misshapen, covered with +red hair, and glaring at her with his little wild eyes. His long tail +lay behind him on the grass, and his white pointed teeth showed between +his thick lips. + +The Prince looked up at once, and he also saw in what great peril his +sister lay. The ogre was terribly strong, and no fighting could save +them. He simply glared at them, his eyes full of evil pleasure. + +Suddenly the Princess heard a well-known croak, and right out of the +water sprang a great frog. + +“There is my preserver,” said Tombi-ende. “Help us, frog! No one is so +clever and wise as you!” + +The frog advanced right in front of the ogre, who looked at him with +disdain. He just opened his mouth and said “Boo-oh! Boo-oh!” In one +minute he had swallowed the ogre right up, tail and all, and then he +disappeared into the fountain. There he stayed till the ogre was +drowned. When he came out again the water had dried up, and the ogre +lay buried among the roots of the great fig-tree. + +“Ah, frog, how can I thank you enough?” said the Princess. “This time +you must not disappear, you must come home with us.” + +In three days they reached her father’s kraal. The King’s guard stood +in order to greet them, gloriously arrayed in otter-skins, with shields +and assegais. Her father stood at their head, and hailed them both with +joy. + +“But what,” said her father, “is that horrible frog at your side? I +must have the wretch killed.” + +“Do not kill him, father,” said Tombi-ende, “he saved my life twice.” + +And at those very words the frog suddenly grew into a handsome man, +taller than Tombi-ende herself. He was in full war-like array, with +shield and assegai, and a great plume of white ostrich feathers on his +head. Any one could see at once that he was a Prince. + +All greeted him with loud shouts; only Tombi-ende was not so very much +surprised. + +“I am no frog,” said the Prince, “my father is a great Chief. The ogre +from whom I rescued the Princess overcame me by witchcraft in former +days, but now that I have won the love of a maiden I am once more free. +Give me the hand of your daughter in marriage, and one hundred cattle +shall be yours.” + +A few days later Tombi-ende married the fairy frog, and all will +acknowledge that it was a reward he well deserved. As for the wicked +sisters, the King forgave them in his great joy, and Tombi-ende forgot +all her troubles in a new home. + + + + + + + + +XVII + +NYA-NYA BULEMBU; +OR, THE MOSS-GREEN PRINCESS + +A SWAZI TALE + + +There was once a little Princess named Kitila, the prettiest and nicest +child you could possibly find. She was her mother’s one delight, and +her father was a very great Chief indeed. But for all that many little +girls were far happier than she, for her father hated her mother and +did everything he could to show how much he despised her and her child. +He did not allow Kitila so much as one necklace of beads, and her +little skin cloak was shabby and poor. He had another daughter, +Mapindane, whose mother was his favourite Queen. He loved her dearly, +and delighted in her beauty and pretty ways, for she also was a +charming child. But so much did he dislike Kitila that he was quite +annoyed to see that she was pretty and likely to be admired. At last he +determined to humiliate her and her mother for ever by dressing her in +the skin of the Nya-nya Bulembu, so that every one might be frightened +of her and no Prince might ever love her. + +Now the Nya-nya Bulembu is a strange beast who lives in the water. He +has long teeth and claws, and his skin is covered with bright green +moss. No one has anything to do with him who can help it, and his very +name means “the Despised One covered with Moss.” The King thus hoped +that his little girl would be taken for the monster himself, and would +be hated by all as much as he himself disliked her. You will see, +however, that he would have done much better to be kind to his little +daughter, for the Nya-nya Bulembu is a fairy beast, and it is not wise +to meddle with him. + +One day the King called his Chief Councillors and his people together +and told them of his intentions. “The little Princess Kitila,” he said, +“is to be dressed in the skin of the Nya-nya Bulembu. Fetch me an +animal which is young, with regular teeth, long claws, and a perfect +skin well covered with green moss.” + +The King also gave orders for plenty of green mealie-bread to be made +with which to entice the animal out of the water. A party of picked men +then went out together and came down to the river. They followed its +course till they came to a deep pool, where the water was quite black. +The huntsmen stood round in a ring and sang the song of the Nya-nya +Bulembu: + + + “Nya-nya Bulembu, Nya-nya Bulembu, + Come out of the water and eat me! + The King has sent us for the great Nya-nya Bulembu! + Come and let us see you! + Laugh and show us your teeth!” + + +Out came a huge old monster, with only two or three teeth left, and no +moss on his skin at all. + +“No,” said the huntsmen at once, “we don’t want you.” + +They journeyed on again in a great storm of wind and rain. When it had +passed away, and the sun shone once more, they found themselves at a +second big pool, which was blue as the sky. Here they stopped and sang +the song of the Bulembu once more. Out came a vicious-looking creature, +with but little moss on his coat, and only one tooth three feet long. + +“No, we don’t want you either,” said the huntsmen, and they travelled +on again till they came to a third pool, which was bright green. Round +it grew a most beautiful fringe of green moss, and the water itself was +vivid green, like the grass in spring. + +Once more the huntsmen sang the magic song, and out came a nice green +Bulembu, beautifully covered with moss, and showing all his long white +teeth. They set big pieces of mealie-bread for him, and as he came out +to eat they caught him alive. Then they travelled like the wind to the +King’s kraal. As they drew near home they sang: + + + “Have all your assegais ready! + The Nya-nya Bulembu is coming!” + + +All the men in the kraal seized their assegais and hurried to the gate +by which the Bulembu must enter. They stood in line in front of the +entrance, and as the green monster rushed upon them he fell on their +spears and died. Then they took the body to the hut of the despised +Queen, and began to prepare the skin for use. + +First they cut the body open, and to their great surprise out came the +most lovely bead-work. There were necklaces, bracelets, and girdles of +every colour and pattern, the most lovely little embroidered bags, and +the most beautifully woven mats. Nothing that a King’s daughter could +want was missing, and everything was of the finest workmanship. It +seemed as if the supply would never come to an end, for the more beads +they pulled out the more appeared, till there were enough to last the +Princess her life long. But the moment they began to remove the skin no +more appeared. They stripped the Bulembu most carefully, preserving the +nails and all the teeth, and when the skin was quite complete they +wrapped the little Princess in it. The instant it touched her it fitted +as if it were a part of her; indeed, she could not get it off again, +for it was the skin of a fairy beast, as the old King knew well. You +could no longer see that she was a little girl at all, she looked just +like a hideous green monster. + +Kitila and her mother cried most bitterly at this undeserved disgrace, +but the Chief Councillor could only say, “It is the King’s order; we +must obey him.” + +The two little Princesses were never allowed to play with the other +children. They sat by themselves every day in the middle of the huts +near the cattle-kraal, the one in her green skin with long white teeth, +the other in all the prettiest beads imaginable and a lovely little +cloak of leopard-skin, the finest the King could procure. The two +little girls were great friends, and as they played and ate their food +hundreds of little birds came every day and picked up the fragments. + +Many years passed by, and the girls grew into womanhood. Mapindane was +now very lovely, and was a joy to behold as she sat in the sun, but +poor Kitila was still clothed in her hideous green skin, and looked the +same as ever. The feast of the first-fruits was now at hand. The King’s +wise men had been absent a month travelling to the coast to fetch water +from the great sea, for no other may be used for the potion which +cleanses the land from all evil. They set their calabashes in the sand +at low tide, and when they are filled by the magic power of the ocean +they return home joyfully. Every day they were expected, and when at +last they arrived the King gave orders that all preparations should be +made. + +The day before the feast every one went out to gather the first-fruits +in the fields, and no one remained in the kraal but one old Queen to +watch over the two Princesses. The two girls sat in their usual place, +and the birds flew round them as they ate and picked up all they could. +Suddenly a flock of rock-pigeons swooped down upon them, and in a +moment they had seized the beautiful Princess and carried her away, but +the green monster they left alone. + +The old Queen looked up and shrieked, “There goes the lovely Princess! +There goes the King’s favourite child!” She called out all the people +from the fields and sent them after the pigeons. But the birds rose +high into the air, and then headed straight for the North. They carried +Mapindane far far away to a new country, and placed her in the kraal of +a very great King. There she stayed till the King saw her, and made her +his wife, and there she lived in great happiness. But she could never +send a message home, for no one had even heard the name of her people, +or knew the way through the thick forests which lay between them. + +So her father and mother never knew of her good fortune, and always +believed that the birds had eaten her. Poor Kitila in her green skin +was worse off than ever, for the bereaved Queen was very jealous and +angry, and as she was all-powerful, Kitila was no longer allowed to +live as a Princess, but was set to do all sorts of degrading work. At +last the King said to her, “You are no good at all; you must go and +scare birds. You are so ugly that every bird who sees you will fly away +at once.” + +From that day the Princess was no longer called Kitila, but Nya-nya +Bulembu. She often said to her mother, “How hard my life is! Why was I +born to all this?” + +But her mother always remembered the Bulembu’s magic gifts, and said, +“Do not despair; all will come right presently.” + +And so it did; for the first time the Princess went to the fields she +met a Fairy in the shape of a very old man. He took pity on her, and +gave her a stick, saying, “When you come to the fields just wave this, +and call aloud. All the birds will fall down dead at once. When you go +bathing take the stick with you into the water; it will give you your +true shape again. But remember never to leave go of it, or your power +will depart.” + +Kitila took the stick, and found it quite as powerful as the Fairy +declared. She had no trouble with the birds, but kept the crops in +safety as easily as possible. Every day in the hot, still afternoon, +when all creatures are asleep, she went down to the river. As her foot +touched the water the green skin floated away, and hundreds of pretty +girls came to play with her at her call. + +She stood in the water and sang: + + + “Nya-nya Bulembu, Nya-nya Bulembu, + Here I am! + I was dressed like a monster, + But I am like any girl. + To-day they fed me with the dogs.” + + +Then she called for food, and instantly a feast appeared, and she and +all the Fairies ate and laughed together. But when she came out of the +river her green skin reappeared, and she was once more Nya-nya Bulembu. + +The other little boys and girls who were also scaring birds were +dreadfully afraid of the monster, and never went near her. They never +asked her to join them in the afternoons when they played together in +the water, but they often wondered what she looked like when she bathed +by herself in a lonely pool. One day they went down to see, but they +hid behind the trees, so that the Princess never knew. When a beautiful +girl appeared instead of the ugly monster, they were so astonished that +they ran straight home and told the whole story to the Princess’s +mother. The despised Queen was very pleased, but she told the children +not to say a word to any one. So the moss-green Princess continued to +scare the birds. + +Some months later a great Prince came to visit the King. He was young +and handsome, but he was noted above all for his wisdom and good +judgment. His father had sent him to seek a bride; she was to be the +most beautiful woman he could find, and every one was anxious to see +the girl chosen by so wise a Prince. The young man travelled far and +wide, but found no maiden whom he could love. At last he came to the +kraal in which lived the moss-green Princess. He went straight to the +King and asked him if he had any daughters. + +“Yes,” said the King, “but I have only one. You shall see her with +pleasure.” + +“Let the Prince see the monster,” said Mapindane’s mother, with a +bitter laugh. So the Prince was taken to the fields where Kitila was +scaring birds. When he got there the little boys and girls who were at +work came to him and said, “Do you want to see Nya-nya Bulembu? She is +bathing just now, we will take you to the pool she always visits.” + +They took the Prince, and placed him where he could see the moss-green +Princess enter the water without being seen by her. When he first saw +the green monster appear he held his breath with horror, and thought +some trick had been played upon him. But directly this hideous creature +touched the water the green skin fell away, and there stood the +loveliest maiden he had ever beheld. He instantly fell in love with +her, and vowed to make her his wife, no matter what spell might have +fallen on her. He watched her all the afternoon playing with the +Fairies in the cool green shadows, and longed to join them, but did not +dare. He heard Kitila sing the story of her life. Then he went straight +back to the kraal and asked to see the King. + +“I will marry your monster,” he said. + +The King was surprised beyond measure, but he consented, and all +preparations were made for the wedding. The wonderful presents the +green monster had brought years before were now gathered together and +made a royal outfit for the young Princess. The Prince returned to his +father, and sent a present of one hundred cows to the King, to show in +what consideration he held the bride, and also a fine head of cattle +for her mother. + +Then he waited for the moss-green Princess to come to him, for in +Kafir-land the marriage always takes place in the bridegroom’s home. +All his people waited, too, in great expectation, for the Prince was +known to have chosen the most beautiful girl he could find. Their +horror was great when they saw a strange green monster arrive, with +long white teeth and claws, attended by four bridesmaids. + +“What!” said they. “Is this the peerless beauty chosen by so wise a +Prince? How can he marry such a monster?” + +The poor Princess sat at the door of the chief hut, trembling lest she +should be refused admittance, and the Prince repent of so bad a +bargain. But he kept faith with her in spite of her green skin, and +received her kindly. She was taken to a beautiful hut, and the next day +was fixed for the wedding. + +Very early in the morning the Princess and her maids went down to a +deep pool in the river to bathe. The sun had barely risen, the air was +fresh and cool. Nya-nya Bulembu took the stick in her hand and stepped +into the water. As she touched it the green skin fell away, but instead +of floating on the water it flew straight up into the air, and was +carried many miles, till it fell down right at the door of her mother’s +hut. Then the despised Queen knew that all was well, and her daughter +happy at last. + +The Princess came out of the water in her true form—no longer Nya-nya +Bulembu, but Kitila, the King’s daughter. She returned to the kraal +with her bridesmaids, all in their wedding array, and was met by the +women who were to be her friends in her new home, for they were to take +her to the Prince. Great was their joy and astonishment when they saw +so lovely a Princess. They declared that such beauty had never been +seen among them before, and praised the wisdom of the Prince who had +chosen her. + +The marriage ceremony then took place, and the Princess lived among +them ever after in much happiness and honour. The fame of her beauty +was such that people came from South, East, and West to see so lovely a +woman. + +But the old King was well punished, for while he often heard of the +happiness of Nya-nya Bulembu, he never saw his favourite daughter +again, and always believed her dead. + + + + + + + + +XVIII + +THE ENCHANTED BUCK + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Lungile sat in the sunshine watching her mother put the finishing +stitches in her sedwaba. It was a great occasion. The sedwaba, you +know, is the name of the full kilt of black ox-skins which no girl +wears till her bridal morning. It takes a long time to make. Lungile’s +father had prepared the skins many months ago. He had brayed them on +the inner side and dyed them inky-black with charcoal, till they looked +quite like velvet. And then Lungile’s mother, who sewed better than any +one for miles around, cut out the kilt so that it should fit tightly +round the waist but fall into cunning folds at the knee, and stitched +all the pieces together most beautifully. Now the kilt was ready and +Lungile might set out for the home of her betrothed as soon as ever she +pleased. + +That evening she saw all the maids who were to accompany her to the +wedding, and arranged the day of departure. It was kept a dead secret; +Lungile’s father and mother would not expect to know, for every Kafir +bride loves to slip away in the early morning without farewells. Two +days later, at the first flush of day, Lungile and her maids set out on +their journey. It was early summer; the first rains were over and the +valleys and hills were covered with thousands of flowers, vivid scarlet +or blue like the sky, while here and there were great patches of +delicate yellow, the very hue of the English primrose. The air was +fresh and crystal-clear, and the girls laughed and sang songs of +travel. Lungile was full of joy, for her bridegroom was a Chief’s son, +and she had chosen him out of many wooers. For she was not only +beautiful; she was just as good and industrious as she was lovely, and +many suitors had asked her in marriage. She hoed all her father’s +lands, and the beer she made was the best for many miles, so that there +was no kraal where she would not have been welcome. + +The girls journeyed together for some days, till at length they reached +the bridegroom’s lands, and went straight to his father’s kraal. His +mother greeted them with every kindness, and showed them a beautiful +hut in which they might live till all the preparations for the wedding +were made. They had been expected for some time, and now that they had +arrived every man and woman in the kraal was kept busy. + +While the women ground corn or went out to gather wood, the bridegroom +and his father considered what oxen should be killed for the feast. + +“We will take two of those the Chief Maginde sent as your sister’s +marriage-gift,” said the father. “They are the finest in the herd, but +you are my eldest son, and deserve the best we can do.” The first ox +was driven up and killed with much ceremony; the bride was delighted to +see what fine beasts her father-in-law was giving for her pleasure. All +the women in the kraal were now busy getting water and preparing the +fires; only Lungile and her maidens sat in their hut, thinking of the +wedding which was so soon approaching. + +When all was ready for cooking and the guests already nearing the +kraal, the meat was cut into long strips and set on the fire to roast. +To the horror of the bridegroom’s mother, who was watching it, the meat +began to jump about on the fire. It simply would not keep quiet, and +after attempting to make it lie still twice, she became frightened. + +“There must be witchcraft here,” said she, and called her husband to +see this strange thing. She left the strips of meat on the fire, but +when she returned with all the wedding party at her heels not a vestige +of the meat remained. All had disappeared, nobody knew where. + +“The animal was undoubtedly bewitched,” said the father. Every one +looked at the bride’s hut; she was a stranger, and they already +expected all was not well with her. + +“Bring the white bull,” said the father. “He is the finest we have; +perhaps if we kill him it may break the spell.” + +The white bull was brought forward. He was the chief of all the cattle +the bridegroom’s father had received on his daughter’s marriage two +years before, and because of his colour he was held to be a harbinger +of peace and good fortune. He was snow-white from head to tail, save +for two long black horns of great beauty. All praised the Chief’s +kindness and generosity in giving him, and felt sure all would now be +well. + +The young men soon killed the bull and the meat was cut up. This time +it was placed in large pots to boil. All stood by and watched; even the +bride had heard of the trouble and waited anxiously in her hut, for +witchcraft at her wedding was indeed a misfortune. + +For a while all seemed quiet. Then the water began to boil in the pot +in which the bull’s head had been placed. Instantly there leaped out of +the pot a beautiful young man, with a bearing like that of a great +Chief. He ran away with incredible speed, and even as he ran changed +into a handsome buck with glancing horns. In a moment he was out of +sight. + +The whole company broke up in horror. “Bring the bride here,” said the +Chief; “without doubt she is a witch, and has brought trouble on us +all.” + +In a few minutes poor Lungile was brought out of her hut with her +attendant maids, trembling and weeping. + +“Go back home,” shouted the Chief, “and never let us see your face +again. You are no wife for my son, nor would any decent family ever +receive you. I send you back to your father and demand my marriage-gift +of cattle; he may deal with you as he thinks fit.” + +“I am innocent of all harm,” cried Lungile. “I have cast no spells and +wish no evil to any one. I will work hard and be a good daughter to +you.” + +“Go, go back to your father,” said all the women together. “You have +brought witchcraft here, and are accursed.” + +Then they drove her out quickly, nor did she attempt any more to prove +her innocence, but travelled home with her bridesmaids in bitter tears. + +Her father and mother received her back, and were horrified when they +heard of her treatment. They did not for a moment believe their +daughter was a witch, and they were very sorry to send back the cattle; +but what could they do? The marriage-gift was returned, and Lungile +took her old place in the kraal again and worked as hard and as well as +ever. Only no more suitors came for her hand, for no one quite liked +the story of the white ox with the black horns. It looked as if the +kilt of black ox-skins might never be worn. + +More than a whole year went by; Lungile gradually forgot her troubles +and her bridegroom that was to have been. She went out one day in +autumn; the air was cool, the sun shone brightly over the great plains. +She had been told to gather dried mealie-stalks from her father’s +lands, and sang gaily as she walked along the narrow path. Just as she +was about to turn off towards the fields a beautiful buck came in +sight. To her great surprise it did not run away, but circled round +her, running across the path and slipping in and out of the bushes. As +she watched it she seemed to recognise its form. + +“Where have I seen this beautiful animal before?” said she, and thought +a minute. “Why, it is the very same buck that jumped out of the pot at +my wedding-feast!” + +The recollection made her very sad for a moment, but she soon threw +back her head and laughed. “Now he shall really be killed,” said she; +“it is many days since we had meat. I will see if I can catch him as he +passes.” + +The buck continued to dance around her, coming nearer and nearer, but +always just slipping out of her hands. They had now left her father’s +lands behind, and were drawing nearer and nearer to the mountains. Once +she touched the buck with her hands, but he jumped away. She followed +till they came to a stream which flowed down a green valley. There the +buck stooped to drink by a great bush covered with heart-shaped leaves, +on which still lingered a few scarlet blossoms. Lungile jumped forward +and seized him by the horns. He did not seem to mind, but shook his +head and made her follow him by a tiny path which ran up the valley, +following the course of the stream. Lungile found the buck was far +stronger than she thought. She could not turn him back, and kept +looking from left to right to see if any one was coming who would kill +her game for her. + +But the valley was empty and wild. High waving grass surrounded her on +either side, extending to the foot of great rocky cliffs; before her +lay a long narrow valley, closed at the end by a great round mountain. +As they went on a huge forest came into view, which clothed the lower +slopes of the mountain. A blue shadow began to creep across the valley. +Lungile saw it, and thought, “No one is in sight, I shall hardly reach +home before dark. The buck is too strong for me; I must give him up.” + +She let him go with a sigh, and hurried back so as to reach the plains +again before sundown. She had not gone far when she turned her head out +of curiosity to see if the buck were still in sight. To her intense +surprise he was following her, walking in a cloud of mist which shone +gloriously in the sun. She stood still, and in a few minutes the buck +was at her side. + +“What do you want?” said Lungile. + +The buck only looked at her with his great brown eyes, and said +nothing. Lungile spoke again. She was sorry for the buck, and felt sure +that he was in trouble. + +This time the buck answered in a soft, low voice, “Follow me to the +forest yonder.” + +“I will come,” said Lungile, and turned once more to the great mountain +and the forest at its foot. + +Before long they reached the first great trees, and there at the very +entrance they saw a sight which made Lungile cry out in terror. A huge +ogre seated on a wolf was staring at them. Round his forehead he wore a +string of animals’ eyes, which made him look yet more horrible. + +Lungile turned to run, but the buck said to her calmly, “Come, and you +will see what I can do,” and walked straight towards the ogre. The girl +followed, but shivered as she heard the ogre say to the buck, “Ha, you +will do splendidly for the wolf’s supper, and that fine young girl for +mine!” + +Then he opened his huge mouth, stretched out his long arms, and darted +forward to catch the buck, who did not move. But the instant his arms +touched him the buck changed, and became a most beautiful young man. +The wolf, scared to death, ran trembling into the bush, and the ogre, +taken at a disadvantage, was strangled forthwith. + +When he lay dead the young man took the crown of animals’ eyes from the +monster’s head and threw them on the ground. Instantly they became +living bucks. They all looked at the man with great affection, and +followed his every movement. + +The young man then turned to Lungile and said, “Be kind to these +animals, and help them. Remember I also was a buck. Stay here a few +days, and do this for me. Gather spinach every morning, and sing this +fairy song: + + + “‘Once my true love was a buck, + Once my true love was a buck; + Now he is changed into a fine, strong young man. + Now, bucks—Oh, bucks, + Change yourselves, and become young men.’” + + +“I will do so,” said Lungile, with love and admiration in her eyes. +“But tell me, are you not the white ox who was killed at the wedding +feast? And who are these bucks who are all to be transformed?” + +“I am indeed that very white ox,” said the young man. “I am a great +Chief, and because my lands were better than the Chief Maginde’s, and I +had finer cattle and stronger people, he hated me. One day he bewitched +me, and turned me into a white ox, and all my people, he said, should +be bucks. None should be free till I could change my form and become +once more a man. Then he sent me as a marriage-gift to the father of +your betrothed, and so I came to be killed. Through me you lost your +first lover, but do not grieve. Now I am once more a great Chief, I can +give you all you want if you will be my bride.” + +Lungile consented with great joy, for the fairy buck was handsomer and +more gallant than any youth she had ever beheld. She stayed in the +forest for many days. Every morning at sunrise she rose when the dew +was still heavy and sang the fairy song, gathering spinach up and down +the hillside. And every day more and more bucks came in from the +mountains, and assembled in the forest. They brought with them their +does and their little ones. In seven days many thousands had assembled. +Then one morning as she sang the magic song they all changed, and at +sunrise they were men, women, and children. + +Thus the enchanted buck regained his people, and won a most kind and +beautiful bride. He took Lungile back to her father, gave a +marriage-gift such as no one had ever seen before, and then made her +his wife amid great rejoicing. + + + + + + + + +XIX + +THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST + +A SWAZI TALE + + +Once, ever so many years ago, there lived a very pretty maiden whose +name was Mulha, “the Fair One.” She dwelt with her father and mother +and two little sisters in a lonely kraal among the mountains. They +seldom saw any one, for the land around them was poor and very few +cared to settle there. Indeed Mulha’s mother grew all her crops in a +fertile valley some miles away, and was often obliged to be absent many +days. + +As spring approached every year she took her hoe, left the kraal in +charge of Mulha, and went away to set the new corn. Now it happened +once that the father was away on a hunting expedition when the time of +sowing arrived, and not likely to be back for a long time. So the +mother had to leave all three children alone; but as Mulha was a big +girl and would soon be grown up, she did not fear for their safety. She +gave all three plenty of corn and many kinds of beans to cook for their +daily food. + +When she had finished providing for them, she called them to a big pot +which lay on one side of the hut. + +“Children,” she said, “never open this pot. You have plenty to eat and +will need nothing. Promise me faithfully to obey. If you are good I +will give you all a little feast when I return; we will kill a goat and +make beer, and each of you shall ask your little friends.” + +The children promised to be good and not to touch the pot. Then the +mother bade them farewell and started on her journey. The girls were +quite happy for a few days. They cooked their food and kept house, and +the kraal had not looked so neat and tidy for a long time. Then they +grew weary of being alone, and the two younger children said to their +sister, “We are tired; our mother stays away too long.” + +Mulha then got up and said, “Do you know what I am going to do?” + +“No,” said they. + +“I am going to open the big pot.” + +“Oh no, you mustn’t,” said the other two; “we all promised faithfully +not to touch it.” + +“I am going to see what is inside,” said Mulha with determination. She +went straight to the pot and opened it, but instead of the store of +food she expected to see out came a huge ogre, who instantly filled all +the hut. There was no room left for any one else, and the little girls +fled in terror. But the ogre called after them and spoke so nicely that +they soon came back. + +“I will do you no harm,” said he; “you two elder girls must go out to +get water while I keep your youngest sister here to cook the food.” + +But while they were away he killed the little girl, and put her into +the big pot to be cooked for dinner. When the two sisters returned they +found the pot already boiling, though they could see no fire. + +“Come,” said the ogre, “and sit down. I have a nice little dish ready +for you. Your sister has not returned yet.” + +But just at that moment a huge bee came in at the door and buzzed all +round their ears. Soon they distinguished words. “Do not eat anything,” +it said. “It is your own little sister who has been killed in your +absence.” + +So they answered that they were not hungry and sat still. After that +Mulha made constant plans to escape with her sister, but the ogre +always knew of them at once and followed her everywhere. Once they +thought that they were quite safe and well away when the ogre suddenly +appeared right in their path and said, “Where are you going to?” + +“Oh,” said they, “we are not going far; we are going to play by the +river a little while.” + +They ran on a little farther, and though the ogre followed them +suspiciously the younger sister managed to slip away through the bushes +and swim down the river to the bottom of the valley. Thence she made +her way to the fields in which her mother was at work. There she +besought her to come and help Mulha, and rescue her from the horrible +Inzimu. + +But the mother shook her head. “You are punished,” said she, “for your +disobedience. I can do nothing till the proper time comes; we must wait +for your father.” + +In the meantime the ogre kept Mulha alive, for he did not like to eat +her, as Inzimus always have a stock of provision in reserve, and do not +use the last of the store. One day he left her in the hut while he went +out to search for fresh prey. She took the opportunity to escape, and +this time she was successful. She ran on and on by many winding paths, +keeping always to the trees which followed the water-courses, till at +last she had left her own valley behind and could run straight forward +to her mother’s lands. There at last she found both her mother and +sister, and very glad they were to see her. + +She begged her mother to kill the ogre, but her mother only shook her +head once more and said, “What can we do? Your father is not back yet.” + +But while they were still talking, their father came in sight, to their +great relief and joy. He was told the whole story of their troubles, +and in great anger and indignation he seized his shield and assegai and +started forth to find the monster and kill him. + +The next day he returned with a sad face. “We cannot go home any more,” +said he to his wife. “We must build a new hut here. I threw my assegais +at the monster with all possible force and skill, but they simply fell +powerless on the ground. It is useless to think of revenging ourselves, +the monster is a magician.” + +At this news the mother called the two girls and told them the Inzimu +was not dead, and it would no longer be safe for them to return home. +As he would be sure to search, especially for Mulha, who had last +escaped him, she had decided to send her right away. + +“You shall go to your married sister. She is in a good position and +will look after you, and presently, no doubt, some one will want you +for his wife. But remember to go straight along the road, and on no +account to touch the manumbela [20] which grows by the way.” + +Then Mulha put on all her prettiest beads and dressed herself in a +length of black stuff gaily striped with green and blue, which she +knotted round her waist. No girl in all Swaziland was prettier than +she, or walked with a freer air. Her mother watched her go with pride, +and had little doubt that she would soon marry a Chief’s son. + +Now you would have expected Mulha to be very careful and obedient after +her last sad experience, and for a long time she travelled very +soberly. But the afternoon was very hot, for it was full summer, and +she gradually became very thirsty. There was no water near, and at a +turn of the path she came in sight of beautiful manumbela covered with +rich ripe berries. The manumbela is, you know, the Forbidden Fruit. + +Mulha looked at it longingly, and at last she said, “Oh! I am going to +eat it!” and climbed straight up the tree. + +Directly she got up and picked a berry a deep bass voice called out of +the trunk: “Dear good girl, give me some ripe fruit.” + +The voice was so deep that the whole tree shook. Mulha gathered the +fruit and came down in a fright. Immediately the tree opened and out +came a big ogress, an Imbula, with an ugly snout like a wolf, and long +red hair all over her body. The ogress took the fruit and said, “You +are not safe travelling alone, a pretty girl like you. Give me all your +things and I will give you mine, then no one will know you.” + +Mulha gave her the striped cottons, but did not want to part with all +her beautiful beads. However, the Imbula insisted on having them, and +promised to give all back when they approached the married sister’s +kraal. She then gave Mulha her own skin to wear as a disguise. To her +horror the poor girl found that the skin clung to her as tightly as if +it grew on her. Nothing would remove it. The Imbula, without her horrid +lumpy skin covered with red hair, looked like a pretty girl; her wolf’s +snout had disappeared, and she had the whitest and most even teeth that +ever were seen. It was she who was now Mulha, “the Fair One,” while the +real beauty had become a loathsome monster. + +Just outside the sister’s kraal Mulha tried to make the ogress give her +back her dress and ornaments, but the monster absolutely refused. They +soon came to the gate; the Imbula went right in, asked for her sister, +and was welcomed by all and given great honour. + +“What are we to do with your companion?” asked the married sister, with +a glance of disgust at Mulha. + +“Oh, just put her anywhere,” said the Imbula. “She can feed quite well +with the dogs in some old hut.” + +“Very well,” said the married sister. “She can live with the old woman +over there; no one will see her or be troubled by her.” + +So the ogress passed as a beautiful Princess, and great attention was +paid her. She looked exactly like a very pretty girl, but she had one +great difficulty. All Imbulas have a tail, just like Inzimus, and this +tail she could not get rid of. She coiled it round her waist and hid it +under her girdle, but every day she feared discovery. However, no one +dreamt of such a possibility, and for a long time all went well. + +Meanwhile the real beauty lived in the hut with the old woman. She was +deeply hurt at being treated thus by her own sister, but presently she +discovered that her skin gave her magic powers, so she began to use +them. + +“Tell me,” she said to the old woman, “would you like to be made young +again?” + +“Yes, indeed,” said the old woman. + +“Very well, you shall,” said Mulha. And the next morning every one was +wondering what had happened to the old woman, for she once more looked +like a girl. But Mulha bound her to silence, for she was far too +indignant to let her sister have any hint of the truth. So the two +lived together quietly but in much comfort, for Mulha found that she +was able to obtain excellent food for them both by a mere command, and +they never touched the scraps which were thrown to them. + +Now the real monster soon had ever so many lovers, for the fame of her +beauty spread far and wide. At last she announced her engagement to a +very wealthy and handsome Prince. Her behaviour, however, puzzled every +one very much. She would never allow him so much as to kiss her, and +declared that she was far too modest to allow him even to sit by her. +The real beauty knew quite well why this was, but every one else +thought it very strange. + +Soon after the engagement was announced Mulha told the old woman that +she was going down to bathe. The married sister heard of this. She said +to herself, “I should much like to see this strange creature in the +water,” and followed the supposed monster to the river. + +There she saw a most wonderful sight. Directly the misshapen being +touched the river her skin floated away, and she stood in the sparkling +water, the most beautiful maiden that ever was seen. Then she stretched +out her arms and sang: + + + “Come, maidens, come, + Come and play with me, + Come and play in the water.” + + +And at once beautiful girls came from all sides and played and laughed +with her as their Princess. When Mulha had played long enough she got +out of the water. The skin fitted on her again as tightly as ever, and +she became a hateful beast once more. + +The married sister went home certain that something was wrong, and +consulted an aged Princess noted for her wisdom. The next time that the +supposed monster bathed they went down to the river together and caught +her just before she left the water. She soon told them she was the true +Mulha, who had been overcome by an Imbula, but she did not wish to +change her condition. + +“Why do you bother me? I have everything I want and do not care to be +troubled. You took the Imbula in as your sister; now you can keep her.” + +“It is not right that men should be deceived by a monster,” said her +sister. “I will speak to the King about it.” + +The two women laid the whole story before the King, who soon devised a +method of settling which was the beauty and which the beast. + +“Dig a big hole in the middle of the kraal, and place in it all kinds +of food and plenty of fresh milk in a calabash. Then make every woman +in the kraal walk round the hole alone, and we shall soon see who is +the Imbula.” + +All was done as the King commanded, and all the women in the kraal, +young and old, walked round the hole. At last it came to the turn of +the supposed Princess. + +“There is no need for me to walk round the hole,” said she. “Every one +knows that I am a pretty girl. Besides, I am far too shy to show myself +off before everybody.” + +She twisted and turned, and spoke in a tiny voice, just as she had done +whenever the Prince approached her. But the King would have none of it, +and commanded her to walk round the hole on pain of death. + +So the Imbula was obliged to come, and started to walk round the hole. +But at the sight of the milk all her instincts awoke, and she forgot +everything. Her tail instantly uncoiled, and leapt down into the hole +to suck up the milk. No Inzimu, male or female, can control their tail +when milk is on the ground. This the King had counted on when he laid +the trap. + +Directly the King saw that the real monster was discovered he sent his +men to kill her. When all was over, Mulha came out to see the last of +her rival. But she was now in her true form, and so radiantly beautiful +that the Prince who had been deceived by the Imbula fell in love with +her at once. The marriage was soon arranged. One hundred cows were paid +to Mulha’s father at the wedding. He thus became a rich man, and so +after many adventures all were made happy. + + + + + + + + +XX + +THE WHITE DOVE + + +Once, long ago, there lived a Prince named Sanfu, who was a great +hunter. It was the sport he loved above all others, and every day +during the season he set out from home very early, and hunted till +dusk. He was young and handsome, and as yet he had no wife, but engaged +in adventures at every opportunity. + +One day in mid-winter he collected his weapons, called his dogs, and +set out to hunt. He carried assegais, which he could use either as +spears or as darts, and knobkerries to knock down the smaller game. The +air was clear and bright, the country full of wild creatures, yet look +as he might he could find nothing. He hated to return home +empty-handed, so he hurried on from bush to bush till he came into a +strange country, which he had never before visited. He looked across +the valley and saw in the distance two great mountains, whose twin +peaks stood out against the cloudless sky in glorious tints of +ruddy-gold. The right-hand mountain was clothed in bush almost to the +summit, only the topmost crags being bare. There was no sign of man +anywhere; surely this forest at least must abound in game. + +So Sanfu took up his assegais and kerries and set out to explore the +new land. He followed the course of a tiny stream, leaping from rock to +rock in the dim green light of the forest. The trees were so thick +overhead that the sun never came through, but below one could walk +freely on a carpet of long green moss. Every now and then a cave-rat +darted out at the Prince’s very feet, but his knobkerrie always missed +it; a few minutes later he would see a magnificent buck, with head +thrown back, standing in front of a thicket. But the moment he came +within striking distance his prey was gone. So he toiled on, always +disappointed, but always seeing something worth his pursuit, till at +length the trees grew thinner and farther apart. Gradually they +dwindled down to mere bushes, and Sanfu found himself on the high grass +slopes above the forest. He left the stream and made straight for the +pass between the two mountain peaks, determined to see what lay beyond. + +The highest point once gained, he looked down into a beautiful wooded +valley with several fine streams, the very place for game. Sanfu +straightway began the descent, but at closer view he found that the +slopes were covered with huge boulders, and the grass was so high that +it would be impossible to see any game. He persevered for some time, +then he decided to turn back and try his luck once more in the forest. + +But when he looked round to retrace his steps he found it was +impossible. For the twin peaks had suddenly become a precipitous wall +without break or opening, and the grassy slopes had turned to hard +granite cliffs without so much as a foot-hold. Sanfu looked once more +at the valley. Then he found that he was in a sort of basin surrounded +on every side by steep hills crowned with inaccessible rocks. Puzzled +and weary he went forward, hoping at least to find water and a place to +rest for the night. For it was now not far from sundown, the air was +growing cold, and it was useless to think of going much farther. But +the rocks only seemed to grow higher and higher; he could see no open +space, nor was there any sound of water. The whole valley was +absolutely silent. + +Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. He turned his head, and was +astonished to see a human being. It was an old old woman leaning on a +black wand, on the top of which perched two black birds. + +“Tell me, old woman,” said the Prince, “am I near a kraal?” + +But the old woman said nothing. He repeated the question. The old woman +only touched her ears and her mouth with one hand, and shook her head. +Then Sanfu knew that she was deaf and dumb. So he turned and continued +to thread his way in and out of the tall boulders, the old woman +following on behind. Presently he heard in the far distance the cooing +of a dove. + +“Where there are doves,” thought the Prince, “there are trees and +perhaps water.” + +He pursued his way, guided by the soft melancholy cry. Soon he could +distinguish words, for the dove was singing the lament that all the +doves have sung from the beginning of things: + + + “Ku waffa baba + Ku waffa mama + Ku waffa imfo wetu + Ku waffa dado wetu + ’Ngi hlala etwe + Inhleziwe s’ame’ tshon, tshon, tshon, tshon, tshon.” + + “My father is dead; + My mother is dead; + My brethren are dead; + My sisters are dead; + I sit here alone. + My heart is sinking, sinking, sinking, sinking, sinking.” + + +“Not much farther now,” thought the Prince, as the singing grew +clearer, and a minute later he found himself in an open space. Here a +most curious sight met his eyes. No trees were to be seen, but on his +left hand there rose up an enormous black cliff. You can imagine how +strange it looked, for all the boulders and the crags above were red, +but this rock was jet black. Below on his right flowed a wide, black +river. It was deep and silent; not so much as a speck of foam appeared +on its waters. + +At the base of the cliff were three huge caves, and in one of these, +right in the middle, sat a pure white dove of exquisite beauty. Two +ravens stood one on either side of her, and the moment they saw the +Prince they began to dance. They danced faster and faster till at last +they lay down exhausted at the feet of the White Dove. Then the +beautiful bird spoke. + +“Welcome, Prince,” said she. “We are so glad to see you, we have been +waiting here for years.” + +“Why are you glad to see me?” replied Sanfu, who knew at once that he +had met with a great adventure. “What can I possibly do for you?” + +“You can do us the greatest imaginable service,” said the Dove. “Look +at this cave and repeat the following words three times: + + + “River, river, wonderful river, mighty river, + Loose your might and change us into human beings; + You it was who bewitched us, + Now change us again.” + + +The Prince obeyed, and a marvellous thing happened. The cave seemed to +open out, and suddenly the whole valley was filled with a burst of most +wonderful song. For within were thousands of beautiful birds of every +kind there is in the world. They flashed and shone in the +sunlight—golden orioles and many-coloured lorys, the emerald cuckoo and +all the exquisite finches. Then there were dainty little black +honey-suckers, whose lustre is like mother-of-pearl, and graceful doves +of every hue. And beyond all these were gorgeous birds from the great +forests of the far north such as Sanfu had never seen. He gazed in +wonder and delight for a long time. Then he turned to the White Dove +and said, “What do you want me to do now?” + +“Repeat these words once more,” said the White Dove. + +He repeated them again. To his astonishment the second cave opened out +and thousands of animals appeared—great herds of buck with beautiful +horns, both small and great, noble elephants and tall giraffes, and +lions and tigers with glossy skins. Their cries almost drowned the call +of the birds, but they appeared to live in peace and did one another no +harm. + +“Do you see those animals?” said the Dove to the amazed Prince. “Those +are my father’s men.” + +“Who then are the birds?” asked Sanfu. + +“They are the beautiful women and the girls who live in his kingdom.” + +“And the third cave? What does that contain?” + +“Ah!” said the Dove. “That is the greatest wonder of all. But it cannot +be opened yet.” + +“Is there nothing else I can do to help you?” said the Prince. “For you +appear to be under some terrible enchantment.” + +“You can do everything,” cried the White Dove. “Do not leave this +valley. Stay here for one year and we shall be delivered.” + +“That I cannot possibly do,” said the Prince, “for no one will know +what has become of me.” + +“If you refuse,” said the Dove, with a determination you would never +have expected of her, “you yourself will be changed into an enormous +hairy spider and dwell in a house of dried leaves and moss. Every one +who sees you will run away, and you will live a life of loneliness and +misery.” + +“You have no consideration for my mother’s tears,” replied Sanfu. “I am +the only son of my father. They will both think I am killed.” + +“You shall be fully rewarded,” said the Dove; “if you do this for us +you will never regret it. But if you refuse you become a horrible +spider, and neither your mother nor your father will ever recognise you +again.” + +“Very well,” said the Prince. “I promise to stay with you and help +you.” + +“Give me your wand,” said the Dove to the Mute Woman. “The Prince must +be hungry.” + +The old woman gave the wand, and as it left her hand she herself +disappeared. The Dove took it and threw it on the ground, but curiously +enough the two black birds perched on the top did not stir and were +thrown down with the staff. + +Directly the wand touched the ground there appeared an excellent meal, +bowls of porridge and thick milk, and strips of meat served on a fine +mat, and to crown all a big calabash full of good beer. Sanfu was very +hungry and thirsty. He ate and drank well, and then lay down to sleep +under a rock. + +He kept his word and never attempted to leave the valley. The Mute +Woman did not appear again, and the White Dove sat in front of the cave +and sang her former melancholy song. She never spoke at all, and might +have been nothing more than an ordinary bird. Every day food appeared, +and although it was winter and the nights bitterly cold, Sanfu never so +much as shivered in spite of having neither a roof to cover him nor +karosses in which to wrap himself. + +“So far I have done well,” thought he, “but what shall I do when the +rains come and the heavy thunderstorms? I shall be washed away or +killed by the hail.” + +Clouds began to appear every day, and the weather grew oppressively +hot. At last one evening a tremendous thunderstorm arose, and Sanfu +thought that his last hour had come. To his astonishment not a drop of +rain touched him, and the ground on which he slept remained quite dry. +After that he troubled himself no more, but passed his time as best he +could in solitude and weariness till the summer was past and the winter +once more appeared. At last the year was complete, and on the morning +of the happy day he went to the Dove. + +“The year is over,” said he, “and now at last I can return to my +parents. How glad I am to think I can see home once more!” + +“You cannot be more glad than I,” said the Dove, “for now I too shall +be free. Repeat the charm once more.” + +Then the Prince repeated the words: + + + “River, river, wonderful river, mighty river, + Loose your might and change us into human beings; + You it was who bewitched us, + Now change us again”— + + +and the cave which had never opened before suddenly began to expand. +The whole of the rocky basin melted away and instead appeared open +country, well-wooded and full of good pasture. Great herds of cattle +roamed on the hills, and countless goats and sheep. The high, +inaccessible cliffs were gone, and instead appeared the twin mountain +peaks just as Sanfu had seen them a year ago. + +“Now repeat the charm again,” said the Dove. + +At the magic words the other two caves opened and the beautiful birds +flew out all over the meadows, while the animals came and ranged +themselves in ranks. The second time the words were repeated every +creature suddenly assumed the head and arms of human beings, and at the +third repetition they stood complete men and women. The animals became +magnificent warriors in serried ranks, at whose head stood a splendid +man in leopard-skins, their King. By his side marched two fine Princes, +and an old and wise magician with a long black wand. They were the two +ravens and the Mute Woman, as you have no doubt guessed already. But +the birds had changed to hundreds and thousands of beautiful girls, +laughing and singing. They came down the hillside running towards the +Prince, and at their head was the loveliest woman he had ever beheld. + +“I am the White Dove,” said she. “See what you have done for me! Now +repeat the charm for the last time.” + +And at the wonderful words the Black River and the Black Rock both +disappeared. In their place were seen ripe fields of mealies and Kafir +corn. Big orange-coloured pumpkins and shining green calabashes lay +among the corn, and there were well-grown patches of beans and +ground-nuts. All was ready for gathering, the joyous harvest was at +hand, and the men and women had only to reap. + +Then every one greeted the Prince with cries of welcome. + +“We owe you everything,” said the King. “I will give you a hundred fine +cattle, and goats and sheep without end.” + +But Sanfu was silent and did not reply. + +“You do not seem pleased,” said the King. “Is there anything else we +can give you? You have only to ask.” + +“All I want,” answered Sanfu, looking at the White Dove, “is the +Princess. I want no cattle, for I am a rich man, and my father a very +great Chief. But I will give hundreds of oxen for the Princess if only +I may have her for my wife.” + +The Princess looked at him with delight, but the King hesitated and +said he must confer with his chief men. He consulted with them day +after day for many weeks—not, I think, because he did not care for +Sanfu, but simply to show that he was a great King, and his daughter +not to be had for the mere asking. + +At last, when poor Sanfu was worn out with anxiety, for he loved the +Princess dearly, the King said he was ready to receive him. + +“The Princess is yours,” he said, “on condition that you stay here and +live in our country. Go home first, and bring what men you will as your +followers, but do not leave us altogether.” + +The Prince willingly promised for the sake of the White Dove. He went +home, told all his adventures to his father and mother, and in the end +all his people rose up and came with him. The wedding of Sanfu the +hunter and the White Dove was celebrated with great festivities, and, +as you may well believe, was soon followed by many more between his men +and the beautiful girls who once were many-coloured birds. + + + + THE END + + + + + + + + +NOTES + + +[1] Imbula—an ogre. + +[2] Sakobulas—the Kafir name for the black birds just mentioned. + +[3] Rooibekkie—Dutch for “red beak.” + +[4] Mantsiane—the Kafir name for the rooibekkie. + +[5] Assegais—small light spears, of which natives usually carry +several. An assegai can be thrown as a dart or used like a spear at +close quarters. + +[6] Mealies—the name generally used in South Africa for Indian corn or +maize. + +[7] This is the order in which Kafirs speak of the points of the +compass. The north is not mentioned in such expressions. + +[8] Creek.—This word is used in the English-speaking districts of South +Africa to denote a narrow gorge in the mountains with a stream running +down the middle. As a rule they are thickly wooded and full of the most +lovely ferns. In the Cape Colony they are called “kloofs.” + +[9] Impi—a regiment. + +[10] Induna—a head man or leader under the command of a chief. + +[11] Indaba—a conference or council. + +[12] Karosses—rugs made of skins or of bark, beautifully sewn together. + +[13] Thick milk. This is maas or mase, a preparation of sour milk. +Kafirs never drink fresh milk, but let it stand in special pots till +curds have formed. + +[14] An Inzimu, or Imbula, answers most nearly to the ogre of European +fairy tales. He is semi-human, and prefers the flesh of man to any +other. An ogress is called Nzuluqumbi. Both have light-coloured skins +and red hair. + +[15] Lobola—the marriage-gift presented by the bridegroom to the +bride’s father. This gift, consisting of cattle, gives him his legal +claim to his wife. + +[16] Kopje—a small hill (pronounced “koppie”). + +[17] Koodoo—a kind of antelope with fine horns. + +[18] Knobkerrie—a staff about the length and thickness of a policeman’s +truncheon, with a round knob at the end. It can be thrown some distance +or wielded in the hand, and is a very useful weapon. Native policemen +under British rule always carry one. + +[19] Red ochre is much prized among Kafirs as a dressing for the hair +and skin. It is said to protect them from the heat of the sun, and is +also thought very becoming. + +[20] Manumbela—a bush with bright glossy leaves and silvery stem. The +fruit is bright red and grows closely round the stem in great +quantities, a little like the English holly. The berries are the size +of a small plum and are considered very good to eat. + + + + + + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75833 *** |