out a plot against little Gqomisa, and after all the details had been worked out, Songoza was taken into their confidence. His stupidity would have rendered him useless in the preliminary stages of the conspiracy.
About six months after Umsoala’s death, in the winter, Mahlokoza’s second son, a child of three years of age, sickened and nearly died. As the child recovered, Mahlokoza herself became ill, and the witch-doctor was sent for. After the exercise of most powerful incantations he announced that the sufferers had not been bewitched by any being of flesh, but that some evilly-disposed, disembodied spirits, who held a spite against the “great house,” were plaguing them. There existed, he officially declared to a large assemblage, one, and only one, possible remedy. The chief must transfer his great wife and her children to the “great place” of his late father, and there cause to be slaughtered by him (the witch-doctor) a young black bull from the herd. This sacrifice would attract the “imishologu,” or ancestral spirits, who would rally round the “great house,” and drive away the inimical ghosts.
Old Dogolwana was obliged to agree to this, and even to assist at the ceremonial, knowing as he full well did that some treachery was afoot against little Gqomisa. Mahlokoza, after she and her children had been sprinkled with the blood of the bull, declared herself much better, and began making preparations for returning home at once. However, the function was not yet at an end. The witch-doctor went through some further most elaborate ritual, and then fell into a trance. On awakening he declared to have again received a communication from the spirits dwelling in the unseen, this time to the effect that the great wife and her children were required to remain at the late chief’s “great place” for at least two weeks, at the end of which period the evil ones, who dared not venture near so sacred a locality, would have left the neighbourhood in disgust.
Here again old Dogolwana was obliged to submit. He now felt that matters were developing rapidly, and that the crisis was approaching fast. Mahlokoza and her two sons were assigned a hut next door to the one occupied by little Gqomisa and his two guardians.
Trouble began on the very first day—just after the witch-doctor left and the company dispersed—for Umkilwa and his younger brother fell upon little Gqomisa with their small clubs, and mauled him cruelly before old Dogolwana’s wife, who was the only one near, could interfere. This was added as a considerable item to the already heavy account debited against Songoza and his house.
However, next day things went somewhat more smoothly. Three of the black cows were assigned to Mahlokoza’s hut for milking purposes, and a supply of corn was delivered in baskets every day.
Philip became a constant visitor, and now and then Songoza called in passing. One morning, about ten days after Mahlokoza’s arrival, Songoza and Philip arrived together. All the visitors were invited to partake of beer in old Dogolwana’s hut.
Kèlè’s widow, Mamiekwa, was a silent little woman with very bright eyes. She was continually hovering around Mahlokoza and the others, trying to hear what they talked about, but hitherto she had been unable to overhear anything.
On this occasion she announced her intention of spending the day in a neighbouring forest seeking for medicinal roots, so she handed over her baby to old Dogolwana’s wife, asking her to look after it until evening. She managed to whisper to old Dogolwana just before she left:
“Get them all in here again at sundown to drink beer.”
Mamiekwa gave a hurried glance around to make sure she was not being watched by any one, and then, instead of going to the forest, darted into the hut occupied by Mahlokoza and her family.
Huts of the larger class generally have four poles fixed in the ground and extending to the roof close to the wall on the side opposite the door. These poles are connected by horizontal pieces of wood, across which wattles are laid. Rude shelving, generally in two tiers, is thus formed, and upon the shelves are kept skins, mats, bundles of dried rushes, and other bulky articles. In the hut occupied by Mahlokoza the upper shelf was piled high with rolls of matting. Mamiekwa nimbly climbed up and lay down amongst these, which effectually concealed her. Here she lay perfectly still, and hardly venturing to breathe.
After some little time, Songoza, Mahlokoza, and Philip came in. Mahlokoza said to Philip:
“Sit at the door where you can see outside, so that no one can creep up to listen. That owl-face Mamiekwa is always sneaking near, and I am sure Dogolwana suspects.”
Philip went and sat right in the doorway, and every now and then looked out to either side.
“Is it settled that it is to happen to-morrow night?” asked Songoza.
“Yes,” replied Philip; “and I shall stay here to see that all is arranged. I must try and dispose of Mamiekwa. If I can manage it, I will get her to sleep in the hut too.”
Bit by bit the horrible conspiracy was unfolded. In the middle of the following night, the door of Dogolwana’s hut was to be fastened from the outside, and then the hut was to be burnt with its inmates. Songoza particularly wished the thing to be done in his absence, but Philip, whilst agreeing to fasten the door some time after the inmates had gone to sleep, insisted that Songoza’s should be the hand to apply the fire. Philip knew Songoza well, and did not desire to run the risk of being made a scapegoat.
The day seemed very long to Mamiekwa stretched amongst the mats, and it was with a keen sense of relief that she heard at sundown the voice of old Dogolwana at the door saying that a pot of beer of a fresh brew, which had risen splendidly, was waiting to be discussed, and that they must be sure and bring the children to have some of it. Shortly afterwards every one else left the hut, so she came down from her shelf. After ascertaining that the coast was clear, she ran along the pathway at the back of the kraal, and darted into the forest, whence she emerged in a few moments, carrying some “mootie” (medicine) roots which she had dug out, scraped, and hidden on the previous day.
That night she communicated what she had heard to old Dogolwana, his wife, and Notemba, and then under the influence of black wrath and despair, a counter-plot, equally appalling, was hatched.
The Vengeance
Next morning Songoza took a friendly farewell, saying that he was going away on a three days’ visit. Late in the afternoon, Mahlokoza went to the forest to collect fuel, and her two boys went down to the field to gather sticks of “imfe” (sweet reed). Old Dogolwana had been plying Philip heavily with beer, and consequently the latter was somewhat mellow. When the coast was clear, Mamiekwa, to whom Philip had been making love all day, brought him an earthen pot of beer, over the edge of which the pink foam was temptingly protruding. She lifted the pot for him to drink from, and as he stretched forth his head, old Dogolwana struck him a violent blow behind the ear with a knobbed stick, and he fell to the ground, stunned. Dogolwana and the two women then bound his hands and feet securely with thongs which they had in readiness. They then lashed him firmly to a heavy loose pole which was lying in the hut, passing the thongs round and round his body and the pole together, so firmly that he could hardly writhe. They then fastened a gag in his mouth. Just as they had finished, he regained consciousness, and glared at them like the trapped animal that he was. A blanket was tied loosely over his head, and he was than left to his own reflections.
Upon the return of Mahlokoza with the load of fuel she was treated in exactly the same way in her own hut. After dark she was carried into the other hut and laid alongside Philip. The two boys had been easily secured on their return from the field. They were trussed and gagged in the same manner, and laid on the ground between their mother and uncle.
The door of the hut was then securely fastened by lacing a strand of soft copper wire
