Chapter VII: A Kafir Party at the Chief's Kraal

It was Christmas Day. In the ideal mid-summer weather, neighbors and relatives rode over in groups all morning, until the farmhouse gathering at "Weltefreden" was a large one by the time Petrus reached home. Aunt Johanna had lengthened the tables until thirty were seated for the big Christmas dinner, which she and Magdalena together had prepared. The genuine spirit of hospitality was felt by all. Songs by Aunt Johanna herself, splendid stories by Uncle Abraham, with recitations and organ-playing by the children had followed.

There was to be a dance in the evening in honor of Magdalena and Hercules, and "cross-country" riding parties had been formed for the afternoon. Aunt Johanna's gift of gracious hospitality always made Christmas and New Year's Day rare occasions, long to be remembered.

Over at Lieutenant Wortley's a surprise awaited George. With his "Christmas box" from England had come his beloved Aunt Edith herself. She could only remain until New Year's Day, but for George's sake she had taken the long trip to South Africa. It was George's first Christmas without his dear mother. Aunt Edith was afraid he would be homesick. As the "tree" was to be a large one, with a dance, and presents for all, she told George he might invite all his little friends from Johannesburg and the surrounding farms.

Of course Petrus promised heartily to be there, then added over the telephone--Boer children and grown-ups, too, can now "call up" their friends on the telephone just as do our American boys and girls--"come over this afternoon, George, can't you? Uncle Abraham promised that I should go to the Kafir children's party--if only for a few minutes. The Chief's giving the party himself. He always gives his people an 'ox-roasting,' you know, on New Year's Day. It's their 'Ancestral Meat Feast.' This year, because of Magdalena's wedding, Uncle Abraham promised him three oxen with which to celebrate. Perhaps that is why he has invited me to their party. Anyway, I shan't enjoy it without you, George. Will you come?"

There was a pause. "Aunt Edith says I can go, Koos, if I'm sure to be back home here before dark--before supper-time. She'll be worried if I'm not. Are you ready to start now?"

"Yes, George. Ride over on your pony. I'll be waiting for you at the front stoop on Ferus."

"All right, Petrus," came George's hearty reply, and by the time Petrus had Ferus up-saddled, George had arrived, and together they started to the kraals, passing on the way gay parties of Magdalena's friends at the tennis courts, and others on the croquet lawns, enjoying themselves in the shade from the orchard trees.

As the Kafir party was to be a very special occasion, with over a hundred little black children present, elaborate preparations for several days past had been under way at the Chief's kraal. The older girls had made fine bead-work, grass and copper-wire bangles for their wrists, arms, knees, ankles and waists. They softened up the skins of wild animals and worked them prettily, making leathern aprons to wear. Most of the girls smeared their bodies over with a fine powdered soft stone mixed with oil or fat, while nearly all the boys plastered white paint over themselves, and the little children tattoed their bodies with pointed sticks, or made circular burns on their arms.

On the morning of the party--Christmas Day--the mothers anxiously gave a final touch to their children's toilet by a special coating of grease, and sent the boys off to catch rats, mice and birds with which to delight their guests' appetites, and instructed all--for the hundredth time--not to forget to be especially polite to the Chief.

As Petrus' and George's ponies galloped up to the Chief's kraal--or the "Great Place," as it was called--they could see long strings of gayly decked little black children all hurrying from the different huts over to the "Great Place," which was, of course, by far the largest of all the kraals in the great semi-circle which looked for all the world like a gigantic fairy-ring of mushrooms with elongated stalks--for their upright poles reached as much as five feet before their tops were lashed to the thatched roof, with "monkey-rope."

Arriving at the "Great Place," all the laughing, fat, little black children swarmed about the narrow doorway, which was but a foot and a half high, then got down on their hands and knees and crawled in the kraal.

Petrus and George struggled through after them. Inside, the air was dense with smoke which made their eyes smart. About the mud-walls rested bright bunches of assegais, and small stabbing knives were stuck into the thatch. In single file all the children walked up to the Chief, by whose side stood the sturdy little "Bull of the Kraal"--or "Crown Prince" as we might say--and pausing a moment before him, saluted him with the word: "Bayette!" which means "Great Chief." Then, discovering Petrus and George, they crowded around them, yelling: "Azali!" "Azali!" which is just Kafir for "A present! A present!" Knowing what to expect, Petrus came prepared with a large box of "Candy Lakkers" which he presented to the little "Bull of the Kraal."

Then came the most important event of the party--the refreshments, which consisted of such delicate titbits as fried mice, locusts, mutton, goat, and old hens, which had been roasted over the embers.

After all had been gobbled up, various violent games, such as "Horses," "Wolf," and so on, were played by the children. Many of the bigger boys crawled about frightening the younger ones, pretending to be lions.

Petrus and George, beginning to tire of all this, were about to thank their kind host, the Chief, for their pleasant afternoon, mount their ponies and strike out for home. They peered anxiously through the kraal door to see if their ponies were all right. It was nearly dark. George looked anxious as he recalled his promise to his Aunt Edith. "We must go!" he said to Petrus.

"All right, George. I think so, too. Come on. It's late!"

Just at that moment there appeared the "Great Wife," as she was called. Of all the Chief's many wives she was his favorite--the "wife of his heart"--and the mother of the little "Bull of the Kraal," who was heir to the chieftainship.

"Mabiliana" was her name. Petrus and George had long heard of her beauty. They had heard, too, that five men had been assegaied before she became the undisputed property of the gallant Chief, who had paid the large "lobola"[15] of fifty of his fattest oxen for her.

All the pickaninnies hailed her appearance with a great shout of joy. They crowded about her, clamoring for "A story!" "A story!"

"Just one moment longer, Petrus--just till she begins her story," promised George, as Mabiliana gracefully seated herself before the children who quickly ranged themselves in a circle on the floor about her feet.

Her dress was in keeping with her beauty. A broad band of blue and white beads encircled her forehead, while hanging in a gracefully pendant curve over her eyelids, sparkled another string of the same white beads giving to her eyes a languid look. About her slender round throat were negligently hung many more sparkling strings. Bead and brass bracelets encircled her wrists, arms and slender ankles, where also was noticed a fringe of monkey's hair, while fastened about her waist was a little leathern apron, tastefully ornamented with blue, red and white beads.

"Which shall it be, children? The 'Story of the Shining Princess' or 'Nya-Nya Bulembu,' 'The Fairy Frog,' or 'The Beauty and the Beast'?" asked Mabiliana, very gracefully taking a pinch of snuff from time to time.

"The Beauty and the Beast!" shouted all the little blacks with one voice. That story is a great favorite with Kafir children.

"Then 'The Beauty and the Beast' it shall be," sweetly assented the young Kafiress.

Mabiliana was really distressed at being urged to tell a fairy-story by daylight. To do so--according to all Kafir traditions--was to invoke the wrath of a wicked spirit. Many a beauty had been known to become as hideous as an "Imbula," or ogre, after that. But rather than refuse the children, many of whom she loved dearly, Mabiliana decided to tell the story, then she asked for a piece of glass. Tucking this quickly into her hair, to ward off the evil, she combed her woolly locks over it, using the long mimosa thorn which she carried stuck through her ear. Then carefully replacing the thorn, and, taking a pinch of snuff, she began her story.

The children listened in breathless, big-eyed silence. Spellbound they held their breath as the story reached the terrible moment when the "Mollmeit" appeared--the monster "who killed and ate little girls, and--"

Outside the loud sound of approaching hoof-beats stopping at the kraal startled the boys.

"Oh, it's daddy come for me!" whispered conscience-stricken George to Petrus, as he burst from the kraal into the inky blackness outside, calling:

"Daddy! Where are you?"

Petrus dashed after him. He heard one terrified shriek, followed by the thud, thud, thud, of a galloping horse's hoofs--growing fainter and fainter, then silence, but for the loud cackling and barking of the hens and dogs.

"George! Where are you? George! George!" frantically called Petrus, peering through the inky darkness in every direction.

Only the commotion among the fowls and dogs broke the dead silence.

"George! George!" louder called Petrus, in despair.

There came no answer.

Petrus looked about for the ponies. There they were both quietly standing just where he had left them. Shobo--the Bushboy--rushed up.

"Cluck, cluck, click, click--nhlpr--nh!" he cried out, gesticulating wildly to Petrus, and pointing far off to the west.

"Oh, my master! My master!" cried Mutla, galloping breathlessly up. "The Zulu! The Zulu! He got Master George!"

Petrus' foot struck against something hard. He shuddered. There lay a six-foot long, iron-tipped assegai. One just like it fell into the flying cart that day. He had it yet. The horrible truth came home to him--_George was gone!_

"Quick, Ferus!" cried Petrus, springing into the saddle with the assegai under one arm. Ferus shot over the ground at a slashing pace. Soon his master was within sight of Lieutenant Wortley's home. The soft glow of evening lights came from the windows. From one there came the sparkle of many little candlelights. They were on a tree. Petrus could see George's Aunt Edith carefully arranging the presents for the evening party--George's party.

They reached the door. Petrus sprang from Ferus and dashed up the steps, crying--

"Oh, Lieutenant Wortley! George is gone!"

FOOTNOTES:

[15] Payment in cattle, without which no Kafir marriage was legal.