第8章

NORTHWARDS

I make no apology to myself， or to anybody who may happen to read this narrative in future， for having set out the manner of my meeting with Indaba-zimbi： first， because it was curious， and secondly， because he takes some hand in the subsequent events. If that old man was a humbug， he was a very clever one. What amount of truth there was in his pretensions to supernatural powers it is not for me to determine， though I may have my own opinion on the subject. But there was no mistake as to the extraordinary influence he exercised over his fellow-natives. Also he quite got round my poor father. At first the old gentleman declined to have him at the station， for he had a great horror of these Kaffir wizards or witch-finders. But Indaba-zimbi persuaded him that he was anxious to investigate the truths of Christianity， and challenged him to a discussion. The argument lasted two years--to the time of my father's death， indeed. At the conclusion of each stage Indaba-zimbi would remark， in the words of the Roman Governor， "Almost， praying white man， thou persuadest me to become a Christian，" but he never quite became one--indeed， I do not think he ever meant to. It was to him that my father addressed his "Letters to a Native Doubter." This work， which， unfortunately， remains in manuscript， is full of wise saws and learned instances. It ought to be published together with a /précis/ of the doubter's answers， which were verbal.

So the talk went on. If my father had lived I believe it would be going on now， for both the disputants were quite inexhaustible.

Meanwhile Indaba-zimbi was allowed to live on the station on condition that he practised no witchcraft， which my father firmly believed to be a wile of the devil. He said that he would not， but for all that there was never an ox lost， or a sudden death， but he was consulted by those interested.

When he had been with us a year， a deputation came to him from the tribe he had left， asking him to return. Things had not gone well with them since he went away， they said， and now the chief， his enemy， was dead. Old Indaba-zimbi listened to them till they had done， and， as he listened， raked sand into a little heap with his toes. Then he spoke， pointing to the little heap， "There is your tribe to-day，" he said.

Then he lifted his heel and stamped the heap flat. "There is your tribe before three moons are gone. Nothing is left of it. You drove me away： I will have no more to do with you； but when you are being killed think of my words."The messengers went. Three months afterwards I heard that the whole community had been wiped out by an Impi of raiding Pondos.

When I was at length ready to start upon my expedition， I went to old Indaba-zimbi to say good-bye to him， and was rather surprised to find him engaged in rolling up medicine， assegais， and other sundries in his blankets.

"Good-bye， Indaba-zimbi，" I said， "I am going to trek north.""Yes， Macumazahn，" he answered， with his head on one side； "and so am I--I want to see that country. We will go together.""Will we！" I said； "wait till you are asked， you old humbug.""You had better ask me， then， Macumazahn， for if you don't you will never come back alive. Now that the old chief (my father) is gone to where the storms come from，" and he nodded to the sky， "I feel myself getting into bad habits again. So last night I just threw up the bones and worked out about your journey， and I can tell you this， that if you don't take me you will die， and， what is more， you will lose one who is dearer to you than life in a strange fashion. So just because you gave me that hint a couple of years ago， I made up my mind to come with you.""Don't talk stuff to me，" I said.

"Ah， very well， Macumazahn， very well； but what happened to my own people six months ago， and what did I tell the messengers would happen？ They drove me away， and they are gone. If you drive me away you will soon be gone too，" and he nodded his white lock at me and smiled. Now I was not more superstitious than other people， but somehow old Indaba-zimbi impressed me. Also I knew his extraordinary influence over every class of native， and bethought me that he might be useful in that way.

"All right，" I said： "I appoint you witch-finder to the expedition without pay.""First serve， then ask for wages，" he answered. "I am glad to see that you have enough imagination not to be altogether a fool， like most white men， Macumazahn. Yes， yes， it is want of imagination that makes people fools； they won't believe what they can't understand. You can't understand my prophecies any more than the fool at the kraal could understand that I was his master with the lightning. Well， it is time to trek， but if I were you， Macumazahn， I should take one waggon， not two.""Why？" I said.

"Because you will lose your waggons， and it is better to lose one than two.""Oh， nonsense！" I said.

"All right， Macumazahn， live and learn." And without another word he walked to the foremost waggon， put his bundle into it， and climbed on to the front seat.

So having bid an affectionate adieu to my white friends， including the old Scotchman who got drunk in honour of the event， and quoted Burns till the tears ran down his face， at length I started， and travelled slowly northwards. For the first three weeks nothing very particular befell me. Such Kaffirs as we came in contact with were friendly， and game literally swarmed. Nobody living in those parts of South Africa nowadays can have the remotest idea of what the veldt was like even thirty years ago.