Chapter II: Part 2

A month before the feast the king generally sent a party of four men and two boys to the beach to look for a certain vegetable marrow growing near the sea. This species grows wild there, and has never been cultivated. Sometimes the marrow would be ready to pick early in the season and sometimes late; and the time to begin the annual feast greatly depended upon this. They could not commence operations without knowing that the vegetable was ready, for it had to be used on the second day. Therefore the party sent off in search of it had to stay on the coast until it was fit to pick; they were on no account whatever to return without it. On its arrival all is ready for the second day’s performance, which proceeds as follows: The king and party rise very early and enter the great cattle kraal. Here the marrow is presented to the king, who receives and inspects it very carefully, and says a few words in a low voice over it, all the chief men standing round about him expectantly. Then the ceremony of tossing the marrow commences. The king throws it up in the air five or six times, catching it again like a ball, after that he throws it to the men, when it breaks perhaps into two or three pieces, and these again he throws to the men, and they by turns go through the same performance. Then they throw the broken pieces over the kraal to all the different regiments drawn up round it awaiting their turn at the tossing. This goes on until all have touched the marrow and broken it into small pieces. Then the king picks out of his herd another black bull, fiercer than the one of the day before, to be treated in the same way. It is said that it gives the warriors bravery and cruelty. At noon, when all the ceremonies are over, the king declares the “Feast of first fruits” at an end. He allows reed instruments (umtshingo and ivenge) to be played all through the country, so that all people may know they may now begin to eat green mealies, vegetable marrows, and pumpkins. Before the umtshingo and ivenge are heard no one may touch anything fresh out of the gardens, no matter how long the fruit or vegetables have been ripe (even if the people are starving), on penalty of death, or, later on, a heavy fine. It was against the laws of the country, too, to play the reed instruments before the king gave the order, being considered a greater offence even than eating green mealies before “Ukunyatela” (to tread) had taken place, for it was misleading the people; therefore the punishment for this offence was certain death. Umtshingo is the long hollow reed the natives play tunes on. It is a kind of flute; there is no string to it. The ivenge is a short one with only two notes. Two of these instruments have to be played together to make a tune at all. The favourite air played on them is, “Ucakide ka bon’ indod’ isegunjini” (the weasel doesn’t see the man who is in the corner). Some natives can play several nice tunes on the long reed.

The great dance commences about 3 p.m. All have to “vunula” first (put on their ornaments). They, of course, grease themselves well to make their dark bodies sleek and supple. All chiefs have black feathers of the indwa bird stuck in the centre of their head ring, just above the forehead. The younger chiefs wear black ostrich feathers in the same way. The grand old Mbonambi regiment carried plumes of black ostrich feathers. A shape of straw was first made (like the crown of a hat) and the feathers were neatly stitched on to cover it all. These plumes looked very graceful as the men came dancing and bowing before the king. All the regiments would simultaneously beat their shields with knobkerries, and the noise would re-echo over the mountains like a fearful peal of thunder. The regimental ornaments varied a great deal, as they were chosen to mark the different corps. The rest of the afternoon, until dark, was spent in dancing and singing “Ingoma ye nkosi” (National Anthem). The words were as follows:—

“Abafo besab’ inkosi (Strangers fear the king),
Konj’ uyaliwa (By the by you are rejected),
Bamzonda bamyoliza (They hate him, they praise him);
Konj’ uyaliwa” (By the by you are rejected).

It sounded really grand to hear thousands of men singing it, dancing, and keeping time with their feet, the words giving somewhat the effect of a “round,” and the trampling of feet resembling distant thunder. The next morning, on looking round at the fields where the dance had taken place, one would find the grass beaten into the ground.

The third day is usually spent in feasting and drinking beer. The king orders his chiefs to deal out a certain number of cattle to each regiment for slaughter early in the morning, so as to give them plenty of time to prepare the meat, and to have it cooked by noon, when the feast commences. After all the meat has been devoured beer is brought round, and those who serve it out have to taste it first in front of everybody to show that it has not been poisoned. This is a standing rule at all beer drinks. No one will drink the beer before it has been tasted. The men sit down in circles, and the one who heads the circle has the first drink, and passes the earthen vessel to the next, and it travels all round the circle and comes back to him again, then he takes another drink and passes it; this is repeated till there is no beer left. Talking goes on all the time—relating anecdotes, questioning and arguing as to which regiment danced the best, looked the best, or distinguished itself the most in any way. Now and then an “Imbhongi” (jester) comes forward, shouting praises to the king, and jumping about like a maniac, with long horns fixed on his forehead. He acts the wild bull, tearing the ground up with his horns, then leaps into the air, shouting the king’s praises all the time. The people have to show their approval by praising and thanking him for his wonderful feats of agility. This afternoon the doctors are uncommonly busy preparing “Imshikaqo yemiti” (the mixture of medicines), to be ready for use the next day. The officers also are busy choosing places where the doctoring is to be done.

On the fourth day each man in every regiment has to take the mixture of medicines, which acts as an emetic. In order to be fully prepared for the effects of the medicine, each regiment, in its allotted place, digs a deep trench. This is done very early in the morning. It is said by many who took this mixture that it made their hearts feel very bad indeed, full of cruelty and daring. This is the day, too, when the men felt most inclined to fight in order to try their strength. They would break out quite unexpectedly, without waiting orders from their king. At the last feast given before the Zulu war the ground was actually strewn with the dying and the dead. The blood of the favourite Ingobamakosi regiment being heated and poisoned by the “Imshikaqo,” they dashed forward to try their strength against another noted regiment, which, jealous of them, had been constantly provoking them to fight.

Late in the afternoon of this great doctoring day the chiefs had to call up their men to stand before the king and hear the new laws given out. Soon after this, “ukubuta” (collecting) takes place. The boys who have come to “Kreza” (milk into their mouths), come forward to be “Butwa” (made into a regiment). The name is chosen and given out. So the lads go home holding their heads up high with pride, shouting as they go along, “We are soldiers of the king.” After this has been done the king addresses the people, and fines those heavily who have been fighting and shedding blood. Then he praises those who have behaved best, and finally bids them all go home in peace. A good many men generally volunteered to stay on and “konza” (serve the king). There was always plenty of work for them to do in the fields, weeding mealies and minding amabele (Kafir corn) gardens—keeping the destructive little birds away from eating them. There was also a good deal of fencing to be done, for the king’s kraal was an uncommonly large one, and had always to be kept neat and tidy. The men who volunteered to stay and work had to keep themselves in food. Very often they would run short and live only on water for days. Their people had to come long distances with it, carrying it on their heads, and sometimes they could ill be spared from home. They got no pay for their work, but a beast was given them occasionally for slaughter when all the work was finished. By the time they had to leave, a good many of them were reduced to mere skeletons, and could barely manage to drag themselves home.

The annual feast is now a thing of the past, as there is no king, so is also the “Feast of the first fruits.” The only part of it they keep up is taking a dose of the mixture each year before eating green mealies or vegetables. This they regard as a help towards making the green food agree with them, and that is all.

UKUQWANJISWA KWEMPI
(THE DOCTORING OF AN ARMY)

This was a most important ceremony among the Zulus while they were still under their own rulers. The natives of Zululand, as all who know anything of their history will admit, were the bravest and most warlike of the coloured races, and were always ready to fight for their king and country. They never shirked their duty as soldiers, they were all trained to arms from boyhood, and felt it a disgrace not to go out against the foe whenever called upon to do so.

The ceremony of Ukuqwamba was invariably performed when there was to be war, and was supposed to make the men both brave and invulnerable.

A proclamation went forth to all the men, in the word “Maihlome” (Let them arm), and in a very short time the whole manhood of the nation mobilized and proceeded, fully equipped for war, to the chief kraal of the sovereign, encamping within a short distance. No women were permitted to come near, all supplies of food or other necessaries being brought by men or boys specially deputed for this service. The army, having assembled at its rendezvous, was then formed into a crescent, and the national war-doctor marched up in all his war-paint, when a very wild black bull was brought in, seized by some warriors selected for the occasion, and held down by them, while the doctor killed it by a blow with his axe on the nape of the neck. Meanwhile a large fire was lighted, and kept up while the beast was being flayed. Then its flesh was cut into long narrow strips, which were roughly roasted in the fire under the superintendence of the doctor, rubbed with a powder made of various roots and herbs and portions of the skins of lions and other fierce animals, and tossed up into the air among the soldiers, who had to catch them in their mouths, bite off a piece, and pass the rest on, till everyone had had a mouthful. Any piece which might chance to fall on the ground was left there.

The doctor’s attendants now brought him vessels full of a liquid composed of various medicines pounded and mixed with water, and the doctor sprinkled the warriors with it, shouting the while, “Umabope kabope, Umabope kabope” (let the Mabope tie up, that is, concentrate the strength of the army).[3] All were now ready, and without further delay set out to fight. The “tshela” (tela) or sprinkling was repeated in case of a reverse, but not the killing of a bull.[4]

The whole body was now drawn up in a crescent, representing the two horns of a bull about to thrust at the enemy, while the central part represented the face of the bull, which would drive them away.

The war-doctor brings with him all the things required for carrying out the rites I have described, namely, an axe with a sharp point, a knife, the different medicines, and the sprinkler. This should be made of the tail of the gnu, or if this cannot be obtained, the tail of a black bull is used. All these things the doctor keeps in his own possession, carefully wrapped up in a mat.

The whole of these ceremonies were gone through just before the Zulu war of 1879, and in addition to this the fighting men partook of a medicinal charm which was to repel the enemy (Intelezi yempi).

We must not forget the women-folk who were left behind. Married women always wear a skirt made of ox-hide, the hair having been scraped off. In ordinary life the upper edge of this is rolled outward, round the hips, but during war they turn the roll inside. The young girls throw ashes over their bodies, a sign of mourning, as wearing sackcloth and ashes was among the Hebrews. The old women take their brooms and run along the roads sweeping with them, thus indicating that they would make a clean sweep of their enemies in all directions. This they call Ukutshaluza.

Women also drink similar medicines to those taken by the men, but the preparation of them is somewhat different. A big fire is lighted outside the kraal, and a pot containing a number of roots possessing magical properties is put on, and left to simmer slowly till next morning, when the fresh milk of a cow is added, to whiten it. This is supposed to bring good luck. When it is ready, all the women and children sit round the pot, dip their fingers in it, and lick off the mixture. This is the Ukuncinda, or ceremony of sucking. After this, a cow is slaughtered for them to eat. Then they begin to sweep, smear the floors of their huts with cow-dung, and make all tidy. This is evidently to prepare for the return of the soldiers. Beer is made, and snuff ground, and all the snuff-boxes filled up, so that nothing shall be wanting.

The Zulus “fight and die”; there is no turning back, no retreating—for that only means death in the end, an inglorious death instead of a glorious one. Any who turned back would be killed by order of the king or chief. This was the law of the country in war-time.

When attacking, the whole body of men made one big rush forward, shouting their clan name or war-cry, “Usutu!” or “Mandhlakazi!”[5] &c., as the case might be.

On camping out for the night a watchword was always agreed upon, unknown, of course, to the enemy, and to every passer-by they cried, “Who goes there?” their own people, on giving the word, being allowed to go safely on their way. This, of course, is the same procedure as would be followed among other nationalities.

-----

Footnote 3:

Umabope is explained in Colenso’s _Dictionary_ (p. 333) as “a
climbing plant with red roots, bits of which are much worn about the
neck.” A note adds: “The root is chewed by Zulus when going to
battle, the induna giving the word ‘Lumani (bite) umabope!’ which
they do for a few minutes and then spit it out again, saying
‘Nang’umabope!’ (here is the umabope). The notion is that the foe
will be bound in consequence to commit some foolish act.” (The verb
bopa means “tie.”)

Footnote 4:

The nearest translation that can be given in English of the word
Ukuqwamba would be “Talisman,” and “Ukuqwanjiswa kwempi” may be
rendered “The consecration of an army.”

Footnote 5:

Usutu is the name of the royal clan to which Cetshwayo
belonged—Mandhlakazi being the house of Zibebu.—ED.

INGOBOCO
(FINDING OUT WIZARDS)

The office of Detector of Wizards was held by the Chief of Izanusi. He was the one chosen by the king to decide abatakati (wizard) cases. A big Umkamba tree, standing with its wide outstretched branches between Mahlabatini and Ulundi Military Kraals, was the place where he took the appeal cases. (The former was Mpande’s headquarters and the latter Cetshwayo’s.) He heard only the most complicated cases in which the majority of people were dissatisfied with the inferior Zanusi’s (detector of wizards) decision. I happened to be paying a short visit to these kraals during Cetshwayo’s reign, when one morning early I saw a great number of people collected under the Umkamba tree, and on asking a native standing by what these men were assembled for was told that the king’s chief, Sangoma, was about to “Bul’ingoboco” (inquire into the wizard’s case whether the right judgment had been given). Then my friend and I went near the place to observe the proceedings. We saw the demoniacal Umgoma standing with his dreaded magic wand in his right hand, a black tail of “Inkonkoni” (gnu), and making fearful deep noises in his throat (bodhla), calling the spirits to help him to touch the right man with his wand. While doing this he would be walking round and round the people, now and then making sudden leaps into the air like a maniac, flourishing his dreaded wand, and all the accused would be awaiting the final touch with fear and trembling. The Imigoma (doctors) who had partly heard the cases would also be present, as well as relations of the accused, but none of them were supposed to say anything to the Ingoboco man: the amadhlozi (spirits) were to instruct him in everything. After having gone on till thoroughly exhausted with the antics described, he suddenly stops near his victim, whom he touches on the head with the Inkonkoni tail. The poor man has then to be taken off at once without even a word of remonstrance or a last farewell from his relations. He is driven off to Kwankata, a precipice over a deep pond in the Mfolozi River, which is full of crocodiles. This place is at no great distance from Ulundi. Having reached it the poor victim would be first stoned, then thrown down the precipice into the pond, where the crocodiles were always in readiness to receive him. They really lived on human beings.

Happily the morning we were watching Ingoboco the victim escaped most marvellously by running off at once to the king, who was standing in the cattle kraal, and throwing himself down at his feet, pleading for mercy, which was granted at once as a reward for his pluck and running powers. I am told that several others managed to save themselves in the same way, for it was quite an understood thing that if a man reached the king, outstripping all his pursuers, he would be saved. This also held good if a man reached King Mpande’s grave in safety. No one would dare to touch him there.

ICIMAMLILO
(FIRE EXTINGUISHER)

Icimamlilo is the name of a compound which is in use among the heathen Zulus in cases of murder or homicide, and so well is this known that if any person were found using it after a murder had been committed, that person would be strongly suspected of the crime. It consists of four or five kinds of very bitter roots, with pieces of the flesh of the following animals: a lion, a baboon, a jackal, a hyena, and an elephant, also a kind of hawk. All of these ingredients are essential, there are others which may be added, but which are not absolutely necessary. After all these things have been burnt to ashes and thoroughly mixed, the murderer or homicide swallows some of the powder, and mixing the rest with water sprinkles himself and goes off for a bathe; then the purification is complete, and any evil effects upon the system which, according to native superstition may follow the killing of a human being, are counteracted. This custom of purification is still strictly kept up by the heathen natives, as a preventive against their own death, which they believe might otherwise naturally take place as a consequence of having killed another.

RAIN DOCTORS

In common with other backward races the Zulus have faith in the power of the rain doctors to make, or to draw, rain, and also to prevent it from falling. The Zulu kings generally kept rain doctors; but as these men, when they did not make enough rain to please their royal masters, were in danger of being fined or even put to death, they were obliged to invent a good many excuses for their failures. The most common was that they felt sure somebody was practising witchcraft, that is to say, putting pegs dipped in medicine into the ground, or tying knots in the grass on the mountain-tops and sprinkling them with medicines, either of which proceedings would stop the rain. Then the king would send messengers round the country commanding his subjects to find out where pegs had been driven in, or knots tied in the grass, and the owner of the kraal in whose neighbourhood this was found to have been done was liable to be killed or fined, at the king’s discretion. In a dry season people were constantly in fear of this happening, for they knew that any who wished to injure them would drive in pegs near their kraals and then report them to the king for having done it.

Cetshwayo once had a rain doctor of whom he thought a great deal; but one year when there was a terrible drought he lost faith in him, and then someone accused him to the king of having wilfully prevented the rain from falling. Of course this made his majesty furiously angry, and he ordered the unfortunate man to be killed and thrown into the river, together with his hut and everything he possessed. No sooner was this order carried out than the rain fell in torrents. Such is the story told by the natives, but I cannot vouch for the truth of it.[6]

The Zulus used to consider the Basuto rain doctors the best of any, and the king sometimes engaged some of them to come to Zululand when rain was wanted. One year a large number of them arrived, laden with roots and other medicines, from Basutoland. Some carried calabashes filled with liquids, which were rolled about on the ground at the cattle-kraal to bring thunder, and bundles containing charms to bring lightning and rain were stuck upright in the ground. These performances went on for some weeks, until at last the rain came, and the Zulus were satisfied that it was caused by the hard work of the Basuto doctors. These men were kept well supplied with beef and beer all the time they were in the country, and handsome presents were given them when they left it to return to their own land.

-----

Footnote 6:

This story scarcely seems to be consistent with Cetshwayo’s
character. He was certainly a sceptic as regards witchcraft.—ED.

THE RAINBOW, LIGHTNING, AND ECLIPSES

The Zulus believe in a glorious being whom they call the Queen of Heaven, of great and wondrous beauty, and the rainbow is supposed to be an emanation of her glory. This “Queen of Heaven” (Inkosikazi) is a different person from the Heavenly Princess, to whom the young girls pray regularly once a year, as described on another page.[7]

Some believe that there is a gorgeously coloured animal at the point where the rainbow appears to come in contact with the earth, and that it would cause the death of any who caught sight of it.[8]

The natives as a rule are very superstitious about the lightning; if it has struck anything they say “the heavens did it,” they dare not speak of it by name. A person killed by lightning is buried without ceremony, and there is no mourning for him; a tree which has been struck may not be used for fuel; the flesh of any animal so killed is not to be eaten; huts which have been injured by lightning are abandoned, and very often the whole kraal is removed. Persons living in such a kraal may not visit their friends, nor may their friends visit them, until they have been purified and pronounced clean by the doctor. They are not allowed to dispose of their cattle until they also have been attended to by the doctor: even the milk is considered unclean, and people abstain from drinking it.

An eclipse or an earthquake foretells a great calamity, and the natives are terrified whenever an eclipse takes place. The defeat of Cetshwayo by Usibebu a few hours after an earthquake, which was felt all through Zululand in 1883, naturally confirmed them in the belief that it is an evil omen.[9]

-----

Footnote 7:

The rainbow is called utingo lwenkosikazi, “The Queen’s Bow.” See
Callaway, _Nursery Tales and Traditions of the Zulus_, p. 193.
Utingo, however, is not “a bow” in our sense (at any rate not in
current Zulu speech), but a bent stick or wattle, such as is used in
making the framework of a hut. It is difficult to ascertain anything
about this inkosikazi; but the Zulu women hold dances on the hills in
honour of some Inkosazana—an echo, it may be, of the story of
Jephtha’s daughter.

Mr. Dudley Kidd (_The Essential Kafir_, p. 112) seems to have
confused her with Nomkubulwana, who, as Miss Samuelson expressly
tells us, is not the same person. It is not clear whether she is
identical with the mysterious being called “Inkosazana,” of whom the
late Bishop Callaway says: “The following superstition ... appears to
be the relic of some very old worship” (_Religious System of the
Amazulu_, p. 253).

She was supposed to appear, or rather to be heard speaking (for she
was never seen), in lonely places, and predicted the future, or gave
directions which had to be obeyed by the people. “It is she who
introduces many fashions among black men. She orders the children to
be weaned earlier than usual.... Sometimes she orders much beer to be
made and poured out on the mountain. And all the tribes make beer,
each chief and his tribe; the beer is poured on the mountain; and
they thus free themselves from blame.... I never heard that they pray
to her for anything, for she does not dwell with men, but in the
forest, and is unexpectedly met with by a man who has gone out about
his own affairs, and he brings back her message.”—ED.

Footnote 8:

The Congo people believe the rainbow to be a snake (chama) as do the
Yorubas (Oshumare). (See Mr. Dennett’s _At the Back of the Black
Man’s Mind_ (p. 142), and _Nigerian Studies_ (p. 217).—ED.

Footnote 9:

The earthquake referred to took place in 1883, during the night which
preceded Cetshwayo’s defeat by Usibebu at Ulundi. My sister (Mrs.
Faye) and I were camped out some ten miles from Melmoth, when, about
midnight, the wagonette in which we were sleeping was shaken and
began to move down hill, but was fortunately stopped after a few
yards by a block of wood lying in the grass. The natives who were
near us exclaimed that it meant a calamity to the Zulu nation. And in
the morning, when we got down from the wagonette, we found a great
number of men sitting about looking sad, with their arms over their
shoulders (meaning “we are lost”). They told us that Cetshwayo had
been killed by Usibebu; in fact, the latter had made a clean sweep of
the royal kraal and all the king’s men. In less than an hour later we
saw numbers of people, some running, some limping, some crawling past
us, who had just managed to escape with their lives. Cetshwayo,
wounded badly in the leg, was saved, and taken for protection to
Eshowe, where he died early in the following year. (See Mr. Gibson’s
_The Story of the Zulus_, p. 256, new edition.)

UKUKALEL ’AMABELE
(PRAYING FOR THE CORN)

A description of an old Zulu custom which is now slowly dying out may be found interesting. It is generally observed at the season when the mealies and mabele (Kafir corn) are coming into flower.

The Zulus believe that there is a certain Princess in Heaven, who bears the name of Nomkubulwana (Heavenly Princess), and who occasionally visits their cornfields and causes them to bear abundantly. For this princess they very often set apart a small piece of cultivated land as a present, putting little pots of beer in it for her to drink when she goes on her rounds. They often sprinkle the mealies and mabele with some of the beer, for luck to the harvest.

There is one day appointed specially for girls, when they go out fasting on to the hills, and spend the whole day weeping, fasting, and praying, as they think that the more they fast and weep the more likely they are to be pitied by the princess. On that day they have to wear men’s clothing (umutsha) made of skins, and all men and boys are to keep out of their way, neither speaking to them nor looking at them.

They start very early, as by sunrise they must be by the riverside, ready to begin praying and weeping.[10]

Digging deep holes in the sand, they make two or three little girls sit in them, and fill them in again, till nothing but their heads are left showing above ground. There they must remain, weeping and praying for some time. Girls about six years old are generally chosen for this purpose, as they cry the most (rather from fright than anything else), and so are most likely to catch the ear of the heavenly princess.

When the older girls think the poor little things have done their fair share, they help them out and let them run home.

The big girls then go to the mountains and weep; after that to their gardens, round which they walk, screaming to the heavenly princess to have pity on them and give them a good harvest.

After this they sprinkle the gardens with beer, and set little pots of it here and there for the princess.

About sunset the ceremonies are over, and they all go back to the river to bathe, after which they return to their homes and break their fast. Any girls refusing to join with the others on Nomkubulwana’s day would lose caste, unless prevented by illness. Of course Christian girls are not expected to join, this being an entirely heathen rite.

-----

Footnote 10:

Cf. an account of this custom (umtshopi) in Colenso’s _Zulu
Dictionary_, p. 614. A similar observance, intended to avert disease,
is described by Mrs. Hugh Lancaster Carbutt in the (South African)
_Folk-Lore Journal_ for January, 1880 (Vol. II., p. 12), as follows:
“Among the charms to prevent sickness from visiting a kraal is the
umkuba, or custom of the girls herding the cattle for a day. [Umkuba
means “custom,” it is not the name of this particular rite.] No
special season of the year is set apart for this custom. It is merely
enacted when diseases are known to be prevalent. On such an occasion
all the girls and unmarried women of a kraal rise early in the
morning, dress themselves entirely in their brothers’ skins [_i.e._,
skin kilts (umutsha)], and, taking their knobkerries and sticks, open
the cattle-pen or kraal, and drive the cattle away from the vicinity
of the homestead, none of these soi-disant herds returning home, or
going near a kraal, until sunset, when they bring the cattle back. No
one of the opposite sex dare go near the girls on this day, or speak
to them.”—We have reproduced the passage in full, as the periodical
which contains it is now very scarce. It should be noted that at
ordinary times it would be contrary to custom—indeed, highly
improper, if not sacrilegious—for any woman or girl to approach the
cattle-kraal, to say nothing of herding the cattle. The idea is, no
doubt, to compel the assistance of the Unseen by some flagrant
outrage on decency, actual or threatened.—ED.

OLD WIVES’ TALES

In addition to the many beliefs amongst the Zulus, of which I have given some examples, which may be properly called superstitious, there are a large number of curious half-beliefs and traditions, something of the nature of “old wives’ tales,” to which allusion is made more or less seriously in the ordinary course of Zulu conversation, and which often come as a surprise to the uninitiated European. I remember being much struck with some of these many years ago (as far back as in 1872), when my father took me as a child for a journey through Zululand on a visit to the great kraal of the celebrated King Mpande. On the way, as I was getting somewhat tired, a friendly Zulu told me to press my foot on an aloe (icena), and I should not be tired any longer. I saw no particular harm in obeying the injunction, and whether it was from the effect of the “icena,” or a thought cure wrought by the friendly Zulu, I certainly managed to get on.

On the same journey I was struck by a curious idea the Zulus have (somewhat akin to our “watched pot never boils”) as to disturbing the ordinary processes of the vegetable kingdom. I noticed some fine varieties of pumpkins, melons, and marrows, and, being curious to know their names, I pointed my finger at them. “Musa, musa” (don’t, don’t), shouted my native conductor, “they will never ripen if you point at them. You ought always to bend your fingers and point with your knuckles towards vegetables.” “Oh,” said I, “you might perhaps pick me that pumpkin (indicating one of the best), as it is the only one I pointed at, and it will prevent its rotting,” and he at once fell in with my suggestion, adding a few marrows growing near the pumpkin, which had also been in peril. Some of our mistakes in dealing with the Zulus might at times lead to serious consequences; but fortunately, as a rule they take them good naturedly, and attribute them to our ignorance.

It is rather curious, and perhaps a little humiliating, to civilized and superior people, to find one of their favourite nursery tactics—the threat of the black man coming down the chimney—in vogue (mutatis mutandis) among the Zulus. Fond Zulu mothers used to reduce their refractory offspring to order by the threat, “I’ll take you away to be eaten up by the white men,” and in the old times of which I am now speaking the threat always had the desired effect, though, let us hope in the present day, the notion of our being cannibals, if not bogies, no longer exists, even among the Zulus.

I well remember the day when we were graciously admitted to an audience with King Mpande, and the curious kind of awe with which the monarch and his attendants regarded us. The King spoke to us through his chief official, and courteously welcomed us to his Place, hoping we had not been disturbed by a big fight which had taken place in connection with some festivities among the Zulus near to us. It was a way his subjects had when their blood was heated, and he had done his best to stop it. He then noticed my long brown hair, which hung down to my waist, and observed, “What nice tails you have adorned yourself with! where did you get them? I should like some like that.” I said I had a private store from which I got them, and should not like anyone else to know. King Mpande smiled, and took it all in good part. I was the first white girl he had seen, and he looked therefore upon me as a curiosity.

“Come nearer,” he said, “and take off your hat, so that I can have a good look at you. How do you manage to tie the tails so neatly that no strings are seen?” He pulled and tugged at my hair, to see whether it would come off.

“Why, this is wonderful!” said he. “These are the tails they make under the sea. There’s nothing on land equal to this.”

“I glue them on,” said I.

“Wow! It is well done! Do show us how you do it.”

It was beyond human nature to keep a serious face after that. We all burst out laughing together. Then I told him that it was only my hair.

“Ngimdala!” (I am old) said the king (meaning in wisdom); and I was asked to go round for fuller inspection. The king noticed my hands. He said: “Her hands have a different colour to her face! Come nearer again, let me have a look at your hands.” I obeyed. He took my hand and felt it all over. “Mamo!” (oh! mother) “the skin moves. It is quite loose, and look how red it is.” I had a pair of scarlet silk gloves on. I pulled one off, an incident which caused a prodigious sensation in the royal hut. Exclamations of surprise were heard all round. “White girls are double skinned,” said one, “on their hands.” “They have a white skin to suit their face, and this is covered by a loose, dark red skin,” said the king. “Behold the artfulness of the white beings that come out of the sea.” The glove was carefully examined, and one man, with fear and trembling, picked it up with the tips of his fingers, but speedily dropped it again in horror and dismay. My father then explained to them as best he could that ladies wore gloves to protect their hands from getting sunburnt, and we took leave of the mighty king.

Outside the door we were met by a number of his royal daughters, all wanting to have a look at the girl from under the sea and her wonderful hair and hands. When they had satisfied their curiosity, they asked us to come and call on Giba, King Mpande’s celebrated snake charmer. He was sitting in his hut training his numerous snakes to go and come in to and out of their holes as he wanted them.

A great monster of a python was coiled round a stone in a corner, lazily watching his inferiors at their drill, and waiting his turn. “Ngqabitani” (the snake’s name, which means “hop down”), called out Giba, and the monster made a move and came with a twist and a roll, and was rewarded by a fowl to eat. It was a horrible performance.

The tendency which the Zulu has, in common with all savage or half-civilized people, to ascribe anything unusual to magic, and to account for the unknown by fanciful analogy (the basis, indeed, of most of the vulgar superstitions), was curiously illustrated in this journey by a chief whom we met and to whom my father gave a small mirror. The Zulu looked into it, gave a start, and dropped it to the ground. “Why, it is myself; I know, for I have seen a reflection of myself in a clear pool. These people carry mysterious things with them.” He picked it up gingerly, and handed it to his chief man, who, after examining it with the caution that a detective might display in opening a parcel supposed to contain dynamite, handed it round to the attendants, each of whom made a study of the “ego” and the “non ego” in the wonderful “charm,” which they took to their home and sealed up in an earthen pot.

Such are some of the curious ideas which were entertained by the Zulus as to the white man in the old days. Since that time increased intercourse with the white creatures from under the sea has dissipated some of their old delusions, but even to this day a large number of the natives look upon the white man as something weird, as a being who can do anything, and who has about him a touch of the mysterious, if not of the supernatural. Fortunately for us these ideas have never taken a very serious hold on the native mind. They look upon us as strange curiosities, but do not seriously associate our doings with the “black arts,” ready as they are to attribute dealings with forbidden agencies to their own people. It would have gone hard with us in the early days if any influential chief had conceived the idea, so readily seized by the Chinese, of designating all Europeans “foreign devils”—“Takati” (wizards)—with unknown powers and malignant designs. Our just and large-minded treatment of them has prevented the spread of any such notions amongst them. Their mental attitude towards us at the present day is one of bewildered simplicity, not unmingled with respect, and, when their confidence is obtained, with something of the loyal affection they have long been accustomed to entertain towards their own chiefs and superiors.

KING MPANDE’S SNAKE CHARMER.

During King Mpande’s reign there lived in his chief kraal a most noted and wonderful snake-charmer, who was spoken of far and wide with great awe. He was looked upon as one who was in constant communication with the spirits, as all snakes obeyed him. He was tall and slim, with a withered right arm and a crooked forefinger. It was quite an easy task for him to catch snakes in bushes, and he could even draw them out of their holes with his crooked finger. He said he had certain kinds of medicines which he always took, and also injected into his right arm and finger before setting out snake-catching in the mornings, and these prevented snake bites having any effect on him—in fact, he felt quite safe anywhere. He would sometimes take long journeys in search of various kinds of snakes, and on his return would call on people living near the roadside that he might exhibit them. He generally took two or three boys with him to carry them, and they had special bags made for them of water-broom rushes. I shall never forget the day when the snake-charmer called at our house and asked whether we should like to see two big snakes he had caught that day. At first we felt rather scared, although, at the same time, we were curious to see them, for we had heard a great deal about this snake-charmer. So we allowed him to get them out and show us what he could do with them. He ordered the boys to open the bags, then gave two or three whistles, and the snakes came crawling out very slowly and carefully. He then drew a winding mark on the ground with his rod, which they most obediently followed, hissing and sticking out their tongues now and then, and looking about to see which way they were to go next, and he said that this was all he had been able to teach them that morning. He put down his rod a moment, then one of the snakes made for the kitchen door, where three native girls were standing, and it went part of the way in before he could stop it. The girls were half mad with fright; one climbed on the table, another on the shelf, and the third went up the chimney: there was a terrible scrimmage. But the man soon made the snake go into the bag again. I then thought I would have some fun, so I went into my room to fetch a big toy snake which I kept in the window to prevent the natives from standing about there and using it as a mirror. When I brought it out, moving and wriggling about in my hand, the charmer took to flight. It was an ugly green and yellow thing, with open red mouth. The man said his medicines would be no preventive against a bite from this strange kind of snake, of which he knew nothing. But when I told him it was only a toy, he had a good laugh over his fright. Soon after his return to his hut at the king’s kraal we heard that some gentlemen had gone up to pay him a visit and to ask him to let them see his snakes. When he went away his hut would be quite safe, for the snakes were always on the look out for strangers. The gentlemen thought it prudent to keep at a good distance until the owner of the hut and snakes appeared. After the usual greetings and introductions had been gone through, the man said, “I hear you would like to see my pets; how much will you pay me for it?” They answered that they were travellers, and had not much with them, but that they would give him a blanket each. So he made them go into a corner of his hut and sit down on a mat. Presently he called out “Ngqabitani”! (his chief snake), and it came out with a majestic twist of satisfaction. Then he whistled for another, grunted for another, groaned for a third, hissed for a fourth, and then rattled for the whole lot. They came out by the dozen; the visitors found themselves surrounded by snakes of all sorts and sizes, the great python wriggling and twisting impatiently, with a look as much as to say, “I could swallow the whole of you if only my master would allow me.” The man sat coolly at the door of his hut enjoying the fun. The gentlemen called out, “Enough! enough! we have seen your pets; do for pity’s sake call them back!” The man said, “How much will you give me?” The answer was, “Ten blankets each—anything you like—all we possess; only clear off your pets and let us out of this trap.” He answered, “You shall have your wish my good friends,” and then made the usual noises, when they all promptly returned to their holes. The gentlemen heaved a sigh of relief, paid the man, but never will they ask to see his pets again. They were quite satisfied.

HOW DEATH CAME INTO THE WORLD

The Zulu people believe that our first parents came out of a reed. The Great-great-one made the reed to open, and forth came a man and a woman. Some years after, He sent a messenger to inform the people that they were to live for ever. This messenger, being a chameleon, was very slow in fulfilling its errand. On the way it espied some nice berries, of which it is very fond, and it spent quite an age in climbing up the shrub to pick and eat the sweet little fruit. It thought that it was unnecessary to hurry with the message—the people could wait: so it was at no pains to perform His mission. Meanwhile the Great-great-one sent a second messenger to tell the people that they were to die. This messenger (being a kind of lizard, or salamander) was much quicker in its movements, and so, arriving in the world long before the chameleon even thought it had had enough berries to eat, it proclaimed to men: “The Great-great-one says you must all die.” When at length the first-sent messenger came, it was too late, for people were already dying, and the fate of the rest could not be changed. And they said: “Why did you delay when sent by the Great-great-one? You detestable little, slow, crawling creature! You shall be hated for ever and ever.” The natives still abhor this creature in connection with the legend. They always ill-treat it, delighting to fill its mouth with snuff, which turns it black.

THE ZULU’S CHOICEST BIT OF MEAT

If a native sends a present of meat to his chief, or anyone he respects as far above him, he will generally send the Insonyama, that is, the part of the flesh of a slaughtered bullock or cow which covers the ribs and is separated from them by a moist substance which makes it very easy of removal. This is, in native estimation, the choicest meat, and is always eaten by the head of a family. This is a useful piece of knowledge for those who have to do with native cases which concern disputed inheritance. If an ox is slaughtered which belongs to any other house of the same family, the insonyama is always taken to be eaten in the superior’s hut. If the insonyama is taken as a present to a superior friend, it is always considered a great compliment to cook it beforehand and roll it up nicely in a clean mat (isitebe) ready to be eaten.

A FRIENDLY WAY OF OBTAINING FOOD

The Zulus are a very kind and hospitable race, always willing to share their food with others in need. In times of famine they have a way of asking help from each other without any intention of returning the same; this they call Ukutekela. Sometimes on meeting one another by the way, after the usual greetings, one says to the other, “I am coming to beg (tekela) mealies (or potatoes) of you to-morrow”; the answer would be, “All right,” with a laugh, “you may come.”

Tekela really means begging or obtaining food, corn or potatoes, from another, sometimes getting it as a reward for assisting to reap or weed, or as a gift. It is one of the oldest customs which the natives have.

For instance, a woman may go on a visit to relations or friends, and remain with them for a short time, and while staying there assist in whatever work is going on at the time of her visit. Then when she leaves to return home she may be given grain of some kind to take with her, if there is a fair supply at the kraal. A visitor hardly ever returns home empty handed. Only in times of famine would it be possible.

Help given one to another in reaping cornfields is very commonly acknowledged in the same fashion.

When the gardens need weeding a day is arranged on which to invite friends to a beer-drink. The guests arrive about sunrise and weed till about three o’clock, when the beer is brought out; but no one except those who have assisted in the work will have a share in it, unless they happen to be travellers or too old to work.

Natives will do a great deal to obtain beer, which is the reason why the native fields are usually so free from weeds. But it is seldom used before the allotted work is done—a very necessary restriction!

PEACEMAKING OVER A PINCH OF SNUFF

Very few people, I believe, know this Zulu custom of making friends. After a severe quarrel natives will not condescend to take snuff together on any account, although they have been the best of friends for years. It is not till their quarrel has been settled and their tempers cooled down that they can begin to say, “Ngi ncwebise ugwai” (give me a pinch of snuff)—and even then the one asked may refuse and say “’Tis too soon my friend, irritate me not, I pray.” The following is an instance:—

Two handsome young men, who had been friends ever since they were quite little lads, and who had joined the same regiment, fell in love with a very beautiful girl, who was a chief’s daughter. These young men were inseparable; wherever the one went the other was sure to go. Whether it was to a hunt, beer drink, wedding, or dance they always went together. There was a certain chief who took a liking to these two young men, for they were very cheerful and amusing, so he encouraged them to come to all his entertainments. One used to ornament himself with white beads and tigers’ claws and white ostrich feathers, the other with red beads and black and red feathers. They each carried a nice assagai and a couple of knobkerries and a courting shield. They always looked neat and nice, for they made a point of greasing themselves well before setting out anywhere.