Allans Wife | Page 9

heavens grew
darker and darker, and the still air heralded the coming of the storm, yet
it did not come. By four o'clock, however, it became obvious that it
must burst soon--at sunset, the old chief said, and in the company of the
whole assembly I moved down to the place of combat. The kraal was
built on the top of a hill, and below it the land sloped gently to the
banks of a river about half a mile away. On the hither side of the bank
was the piece of land that was, the natives said, "loved of the
lightning." Here the magicians took up their stand, while the spectators
grouped themselves on the hillside about two hundred yards
away--which was, I thought, rather too near to be pleasant. When we
had sat there for a while my curiosity overcame me, and I asked leave
of the chief to go down and inspect the arena. He said I might do so at
my own risk. I told him that the fire from above would not hurt white
men, and went to find that the spot was a bed of iron ore, thinly
covered with grass, which of course accounted for its attracting the
lightning from the storms as they travelled along the line of the river.
At each end of this iron-stone area were placed the combatants,
Indaba-zimbi facing the east, and his rival the west, and before each
there burned a little fire made of some scented root. Moreover they
were dressed in all the paraphernalia of their craft, snakeskins,
fish-bladders, and I know not what beside, while round their necks
hung circlets of baboons' teeth and bones from human hands. First I
went to the western end where the chief's son stood. He was pointing

with his assegai towards the advancing storm, and invoking it in a
voice of great excitement.
"Come, fire, and lick up Indaba-zimbi!
"Hear me, Storm Devil, and lick Indaba-zimbi with your red tongue!
"Spit on him with your rain!
"Whirl him away in your breath!
"Make him as nothing--melt the marrow in his bones!
"Run into his heart and burn away the lies!
"Show all the people who is the true Witch Finder!
"Let me not be put to shame in the eyes of this white man!"
Thus he spoke, or rather chanted, and all the while rubbed his broad
chest--for he was a very fine man--with some filthy compound of
medicine or /mouti/.
After a while, getting tired of his song, I walked across the iron- stone,
to where Indaba-zimbi sat by his fire. He was not chanting at all, but
his performance was much more impressive. It consisted in staring at
the eastern sky, which was perfectly clear of cloud, and every now and
again beckoning at it with his finger, then turning round to point with
the assegai towards his rival. For a while I looked at him in silence. He
was a curious wizened man, apparently over fifty years of age, with
thin hands that looked as tough as wire. His nose was much sharper
than is usual among these races, and he had a queer habit of holding his
head sideways like a bird when he spoke, which, in addition to the
humour that lurked in his eye, gave him a most comical appearance.
Another strange thing about him was that he had a single white lock of
hair among his black wool. At last I spoke to him:
"Indaba-zimbi, my friend," I said, "you may be a good witch-doctor,
but you are certainly a fool. It is no good beckoning at the blue sky

while your enemy is getting a start with the storm."
"You may be clever, but don't think you know everything, white man,"
the old fellow answered, in a high, cracked voice, and with something
like a grin.
"They call you Iron-tongue," I went on; "you had better use it, or the
Storm Devil won't hear you."
"The fire from above runs down iron," he answered, "so I keep my
tongue quiet. Oh, yes, let him curse away, I'll put him out presently.
Look now, white man."
I looked, and in the eastern sky there grew a cloud. At first it was small,
though very black, but it gathered with extraordinary rapidity.
This was odd enough, but as I had seen the same thing happen before it
did not particularly astonish me. It is by no means unusual in Africa for
two thunderstorms to come up at the same time from different points of
the compass.
"You had better get on, Indaba-zimbi," I said, "the big storm is coming
along fast, and will soon eat up that baby of yours," and I pointed to the
west.
"Babies sometimes grow to giants, white man," said