Part 2

The care of cattle is considered the most honourable employment, and falls entirely to the men. They milk the cows, take charge of the dairy, and will not permit a woman even to touch a milksack. When Europeans first visited them they had, in addition to the ox, domestic dogs and an inferior breed of goats, the last not considered of much value. Barnyard fowls were also found in their possession, but adults made no use of either their flesh or their eggs.

The Kaffirs are an agricultural as well as a pastoral people. They cultivate the ground to a large extent, and draw the greater portion of their food from it. A species of millet, called by the colonists Kaffir corn, was the grain exclusively cultivated by them prior to the advent of Europeans. Of this they raise large quantities, which they use either boiled, or bruised into a paste from which bread is made. They were acquainted with the art of fermenting it and making a kind of beer, which they were fond of drinking, and which soon caused intoxication. Of this grain they were careful always to keep a good stock on hand. They preserved it from the attacks of the weevil by storing it in air-tight holes excavated beneath the cattle kraals. They had also pumpkins, a species of gourd, a cane containing saccharine matter in large quantities, and a sort of ground nut. The other productions of their gardens, as we see them at present, have been introduced since they became acquainted with the white man. Of those mentioned their food consisted, with the addition of curdled milk and occasionally flesh.

They have two meals a day, a slight breakfast in the morning, and a substantial repast at sunset. Boys in early youth are permitted to eat any kind of meat, even that of wild cats and other carnivora, but when they reach the age of maturity the flesh of all unclean animals is rejected by them. They use no kinds of fish as an article of diet, and call them all snakes, without distinction.

They have a system of religion which they carefully observe. It is based upon the supposition of the existence of spirits who can interfere with the affairs of this world, and who must therefore be propitiated with sacrifices. These spirits are those of their deceased chiefs, the greatest of whom has power over lightning. When the spirits become hungry, they send a plague or disaster, until sacrifices are offered and their hunger is appeased. When a person is killed by lightning no lamentation is made, as it would be considered rebellion to mourn for one whom the great chief has sent for. They have no idea of reward or punishment in a world to come for acts committed in this life, and each of the commonalty denies the immortality of his own soul.

In olden times, when common people died, their corpses were dragged away to a short distance from the kraal, and there left to be devoured by beasts of prey; but chiefs and great men were interred with much ceremony. A grave was dug, in which the body was placed in a sitting posture, and by it were deposited his weapons of war and ornaments. When it was closed, such expressions as these were used: “Remember us from where you are. You have gone to high places. Cause us to prosper!”

They believe in the existence of a Supreme Being, whom they term Qamata, and to whom they sometimes pray, though they never offer sacrifices to him. In a time of great danger a Kaffir will exclaim, “O Qamata, help me!” and when the danger is over he will attribute his deliverance to the same Supreme Being. The Kaffirs cannot define their belief concerning Qamata very minutely, and they do not trouble themselves with thinking much about the matter.

The largest amount of information on this subject which I ever obtained was from a group of aged Gaikas, among whom was a celebrated native antiquary. Negatively they replied to my inquiries much better than positively.

“Had he been once a chief, such as Xosa or Tshawe?”

“No.”

“Was he the first man, the father of the nations, the one whom some of the old Fingoes call Nkulunkulu?”

“No, not at all; Qamata was never a man.”

“Was he the creator of all that we see, the mountains, and the sun, and the stars?”

“Perhaps he was, we don’t know; he is greater than all these.”

“Where is he?”

“Everywhere.”

“Does he see all things?”

“We think he does.”

“Does he help people?”

“We ask him to sometimes, and we believe he does.”

“Is he altogether good, or altogether bad, or partly good and partly bad?”

“We don’t know about that; but we think he is altogether good.”

“Are there any others like him?”

“No; he is all alone.”

“Is there any other name for him?”

“In the olden times that was the only name, but now he is called by some u-Tixo,” (a name for God, introduced by missionaries).

A superstitious act of a very peculiar kind is somehow or other connected in their minds with prayer to, or worship of, Qamata. In various parts of the Kaffir country there are artificial heaps of stones, and a Kaffir, when travelling, may often be seen adding one to the number. He repeats no words, but merely picks up a stone and throws it on the heap. Why does he do it? That good fortune may attend him,—that he may not be carried away by the river spirit when crossing a stream,—that he may find food prepared for him where he is to rest,—that he may be successful in the business he is engaged in,—or something of the kind that he is thinking of at the time. It is an act of superstition. But old men have told me, when I inquired the object of this act, that “it was for Qamata.” How? They did not know; but their ancestors had done the same thing, and said it was for Qamata; and so they did it too.

The influence of the unseen world is ever acting upon the Kaffir. Far nearer to him than Qamata or the spirits of his ancestors is a whole host of water sprites and hobgoblins, who meet him turn which way he will. There is no beautiful fairyland for him, for all these fanciful beings who haunt the mountains, the plains, and the rivers, are either actively malevolent, or mischievous and addicted to playing pranks. To protect himself from them he carries on his person charms in numbers, only to find himself still exposed to their attacks. This superstition influences all his acts and gives a tone of seriousness to his character.

The rites of religion consist merely in sacrifices to appease the spirits. These are numerous. On great occasions they are performed by individuals who act the part of priests, on ordinary occasions by heads of families. The meat of the animal sacrificed is eaten, for the hunger of the spirit is allayed with the smoke. No sacred days or seasons are observed.

A corollary to the belief in malevolent spirits is the belief in witchcraft. Certain persons obtain from the demons power to bewitch others, and thus sickness and death are caused. The same individual who acts as a priest acts also as a witch-finder. In olden times the person whom the witch-finder pronounced guilty was liable to confiscation of property, torture, and even death. The priest and witch-finder professes also to have the power of making rain, and of causing the warriors of his clan to be invulnerable in battle. When following any of these occupations, he attires himself most fantastically, being painted with various colours, and having the tails of wild animals suspended around him.

Before the supremacy of the Europeans it was seldom that the individual who filled this office died a natural death. Sooner or later he would fail to cause rain to fall when it was needed, or warriors whom he had made invulnerable would be struck down, or something else would happen which would cause him to be regarded as an impostor. He was then generally tied hand and foot and cast into the first stream at hand. Nevertheless, implicit confidence was placed in his successor, until he, too, met the same fate.

Sometimes a person intimates that he has received revelations from the spirit world. He is really a monomaniac, but if his statements are believed his power at once becomes greater than that of the highest chief, and his commands are implicitly obeyed.

The snake is treated with great respect by the Kaffirs. If one is found in a hut, the people will move out and wait patiently until it leaves.

The owner will say that it is perhaps the spirit of one of his ancestors who has come to visit him in this form. It may be only an ordinary snake, he will add, but it is not advisable to run any risk, lest harm should befall his house.

In the division of labour the cultivation of the ground falls to the woman’s share, as does also the collection of firewood, and the thatching of the huts. A man who meddles with work of this kind is regarded as an intruder into a domain not his own. The females look upon it as pertaining to them, just as in England they look upon housework.

The descent of property is regulated in the same manner as the succession to the chieftainship.

Many of their manufactures display considerable skill and ingenuity. Foremost among these must be reckoned metallic wares, which include implements of war and husbandry, and ornaments for the person. Iron and copper are now obtained in trade from Europeans, but when the country was first visited, the Kaffirs were found in possession of these metals, and to the present day a few stubborn conservatives prefer to smelt ore for themselves, as their ancestors did before them. There are certain families to whom the working in metals is confined, the son following the father in his occupation. This is the case with every kind of manufacture, and no one pretends to know anything about a trade which does not belong to his own family.

In many parts of the country iron ore of excellent quality is abundant, and this they smelt (or rather did so until recently) in a simple manner. Forming a furnace of a boulder with a hollow surface, out of which a groove was made to allow the liquid metal to escape, and into which a hole was pierced for the purpose of introducing a current of air, they piled up a heap of charcoal and virgin ore, which they afterwards covered in such a way as to prevent the escape of heat. The bellows by which air was introduced were made of skins, the mouthpiece being the horn of a large antelope. The molten iron, escaping from the crude yet effective furnace, ran into clay moulds prepared to receive it, which were as nearly as possible of the same magnitude as the implements they wished to make. These were never of great size, the largest being the picks or heavy hoes used in gardening.

The Kaffir smith, using a boulder for an anvil and a hammer of iron or stone, next proceeded to shape the lump of metal into an assagai head, an axe, a pick, or whatever was required. The iron was worked cold. In this laborious operation a vast amount of patience and perseverance was exercised, and the article when completed was very creditable indeed.

Copper is worked into a great variety of ornaments for their persons. This metal is found in certain parts of the country, but it is now generally obtained in trade from Europeans.

Hardly less remarkable was their skill in pottery, an art rapidly becoming lost since the introduction of European wares. Vessels containing from half a pint to fifty gallons were constructed by them of earthenware, some of which were highly ornamented, and were almost as perfect in form as if they had been turned on a wheel. Though they were frequently not more than an eighth of an inch in thickness, so finely tempered were they that the most intense heat did not damage them. These vessels were used as beer pots, grain jars, and cooking utensils.

In the manufacture of wooden articles, such as spoons, bowls, fighting sticks, pipes (since the introduction of tobacco), rests for the head when sleeping, etc., they display great skill and no little taste. Each article is made of a single block of wood, requiring much time and patience to complete it, and upon it is frequently carved some neat but simple pattern.

Baskets for holding grain, rush mats, bags, and drinking vessels made of grass are among the products of their labour. Rush bags are made so carefully and strongly that they are used to hold water or any other liquid.

Skins for clothing are prepared by rubbing them for a length of time with grease, by which means they are made nearly as soft and pliable as cloth.

Ingenious as they are, the men are far from being industrious. A great portion of their time is spent in visiting and gossip, of which they are exceedingly fond. They are perfect masters of that kind of argument which consists in parrying a question by means of putting another. They are not strict observers of truth, and, though not pilferers, they are addicted to cattle lifting. According to their ideas, stealing cattle is not a crime; it is a civil offence, and a thief when detected is compelled to make ample restitution; but no disgrace attaches to it, and they have no religious scruples concerning it.

Such, in brief, are the Kaffirs, the people among whom the following stories are current.

STORY OF THE BIRD THAT MADE MILK. I.

There was once upon a time a poor man living with his wife in a certain village. They had three children, two boys and a girl. They used to get milk from a tree. That milk of the tree was got by squeezing. It was not nice as that of a cow, and the people that drank it were always thin. For this reason, those people were never glossy like those who are fat.

One day the woman went to cultivate a garden. She began by cutting the grass with a pick, and then putting it in a big heap. That was the work of the first day, and when the sun was just about to set she went home. When she left, there came a bird to that place, and sang this song:

“Weeds of this garden, Weeds of this garden, Spring up, spring up; Work of this garden, Work of this garden, Disappear, disappear.”

It was so.

The next morning, when she returned and saw that, she wondered greatly. She again put it in order on that day, and put some sticks in the ground to mark the place.

In the evening she went home and told that she had found the grass which she had cut growing just as it was before.

Her husband said: “How can such a thing be? You were lazy and didn’t work, and now tell me this falsehood. Just get out of my sight, or I’ll beat you.”

On the third day she went to her work with a sorrowful heart, remembering the words spoken by her husband. She reached the place and found the grass growing as before. The sticks that she stuck in the ground were there still, but she saw nothing else of her labour. She wondered greatly.

She said in her heart, “I will not cut the grass off again, I will just hoe the ground as it is.”

She commenced. Then the bird came and perched on one of the sticks.

It sang:

“Citi, citi, who is this cultivating the ground of my father? Pick, come off; Pick handle, break; Sods, go back to your places!”

All these things happened.

The woman went home and told her husband what the bird had done. Then they made a plan. They dug a deep hole in the ground, and covered it with sticks and grass. The man hid himself in the hole, and put up one of his hands. The woman commenced to hoe the ground again. Then the bird came and perched on the hand of the man, and sang:

“This is the ground of my father. Who are you, digging my father’s ground? Pick, break into small pieces; Sods, return to your places.”

It was so.

Then the man tightened his fingers and caught the bird. He came up out of the place of concealment.

He said to the bird: “As for you who spoil the work of this garden, you will not see the sun any more. With this sharp stone I will cut off your head!”

Then the bird said to him: “I am not a bird that should be killed. I am a bird that can make milk.”

The man said: “Make some, then.”

The bird made some milk in his hand. The man tasted it. It was very nice milk.

The man said: “Make some more milk, my bird.”

The bird did so. The man sent his wife for a milk basket. When she brought it, the bird filled it with milk.

The man was very much pleased. He said: “This pretty bird of mine is better than a cow.”

He took it home and put it in a jar. After that he used to rise even in the night and tell the bird to make milk for him. Only he and his wife drank of it. The children continued to drink of the milk of the tree. The names of the children were Gingci, the first-born son; Lonci, his brother; and Dumangashe, his sister. That man then got very fat indeed, so that his skin became shining.

The girl said to her brother Gingci: “Why does father get fat and we remain so thin?”

He replied: “I do not know. Perhaps he eats in the night.”

They made a plan to watch. They saw him rise in the middle of the night. He went to the big jar and took an eating mat off it. He said: “Make milk, my bird.” He drank much. Again he said: “Make milk, my bird,” and again he drank till he was very full. Then he lay down and went to sleep.

The next day the woman went to work in her garden, and the man went to visit his friend. The children remained at home, but not in the house. Their father fastened the door of the house, and told them not to enter it on any account till his return.

Gingci said: “To-day we will drink of the milk that makes father fat and shining; we will not drink of the milk of the euphorbia to-day.”

The girl said: “As for me, I also say let us drink of father’s milk to-day.”

They entered the house. Gingci removed the eating mat from the jar, and said to the bird: “My father’s bird, make milk for me.”

The bird said: “If I am your father’s bird, put me by the fireplace, and I will make milk.”

The boy did so. The bird made just a little milk.

The boy drank, and said: “My father’s bird, make more milk.”

The bird said: “If I am your father’s bird, put me by the door, then I will make milk.”

The boy did this. Then the bird made just a little milk, which the boy drank.

The girl said: “My father’s bird, make milk for me.”

The bird said: “If I am your father’s bird, just put me in the sunlight, and I will make milk.”

The girl did so. Then the bird made a jar full of milk.

After that the bird sang:

“The father of Dumangashe came, he came, He came unnoticed by me. He found great fault with me. The little fellows have met together. Gingci the brother of Lonci. The Umkomanzi cannot be crossed, It is crossed by swallows Whose wings are long.”

When it finished its song it lifted up its wings and flew away. But the girl was still drinking milk.

The children called it, and said: “Return, bird of our father,” but it did not come back. They said, “We shall be killed to-day.”

They followed the bird. They came to a tree where there were many birds.

The boy caught one, and said to it: “My father’s bird, make milk.”

It bled. They said: “This is not our father’s bird.”

This bird bled very much; the blood ran like a river. Then the boy released it, and it flew away. The children were seized with fear.

They said to themselves: “If our father finds us, he will kill us to-day.”

In the evening the man came home. When he was yet far off, he saw that the door had been opened.

He said: “I did not shut the door that way.”

He called his children, but only Lonci replied. He asked for the others.

Lonci said: “I went to the river to drink; when I returned they were gone.”

He searched for them, and found the girl under the ashes and the boy behind a stone. He inquired at once about his bird. They were compelled to tell the truth concerning it.

Then the man took a riem and hung those two children on a tree that projected over the river. He went away, leaving them there. Their mother besought their father, saying that they should be released; but the man refused. After he was gone, the boy tried to escape. He climbed up the riem and held on to the tree; then he went up and loosened the riem that was tied to his sister. After that they climbed up the tree, and then went away from their home. They slept three times on the road.

They came to a big rock. The boy said: “We have no father and no mother; rock, be our house.”

The rock opened, and they went inside. After that they lived there in that place. They obtained food by hunting animals,—they were hunted by the boy.

When they were already in that place a long time, the girl grew to be big. There were no people in that place. A bird came one day with a child, and left it there by their house.

The bird said: “So have I done to all the people.”

After that a crocodile came to that place. The boy was just going to kill it, but it said: “I am a crocodile; I am not to be killed; I am your friend.”

Then the boy went with the crocodile to the house of the crocodile, in a deep hole under the water.

The crocodile had many cattle and (much) millet. He gave the boy ten cows and ten baskets of millet.

The crocodile said to the boy: “You must send your sister for the purpose of being married to me.”

The boy made a fold to keep his cattle in; his sister made a garden and planted millet. The crocodile sent more cattle. The boy made a very big fold, and it was full of cattle.

At this time there came a bird.

The bird said: “Your sister has performed the custom, and as for you, you should enter manhood.”

The crocodile gave one of his daughters to be the wife of the young man. The young woman went to the village of the crocodile, she went to be a bride.

They said to her: “Whom do you choose to be your husband?”

The girl replied: “I choose Crocodile.”

Her husband said to her: “Lick my face.”

She did so. The crocodile cast off its skin, and arose a man of great strength and fine appearance.

He said: “The enemies of my father’s house did that; you, my wife, are stronger than they.”

After this there was a great famine, and the mother of those people came to their village. She did not recognise her children, but they knew her and gave her food. She went away, and then their father came. He did not recognise them either, but they knew him. They asked him what he wanted. He told them that his village was devoured by famine. They gave him food, and he went away.

He returned again.

The young man said: “You thought we would die when you hung us in the tree.”

He was astonished, and said: “Are you indeed my child?”

Crocodile then gave them (the parents) three baskets of corn, and told them to go and build on the mountains. He (the man) did so and died there on the mountains.

THE STORY OF THE BIRD THAT MADE MILK. II.

The following is another version of this story of the Bird that made Milk, as current among the Barolongs, a tribe speaking the Sechuana language, and residing beyond the Orange River. It was written down for me by an educated grandson of the late chief Moroko.

It is said that there was once a great town in a certain place, which had many people living in it. They lived upon grain only. One year there was a great famine. There was in that town a poor man, by name Masilo, and his wife. One day they went to dig in their garden, and they continued digging the whole day long. In the evening, when the digging companies returned home, they returned also. Then there came a bird and stood upon the house which was beside the garden, and began to whistle, and said:

“Masilo’s cultivated ground, mix together.”

The ground did as the bird said. After that was done the bird went away.

In the morning, when Masilo and his wife went to the garden, they were in doubt, and said:

“Is it really the place we were digging yesterday?”

They saw that it was the place by the people working on each side. The people began to laugh at them, and mocked them, and said: “It is because you are very lazy.”

They continued to dig again that day, and in the evening they went home with the others.