Influence of Rain-makers

Influence of rain-makers — The dead exposed — Ceremony of burial — Severe drought — Embassy for a rain-maker — His propitious rece2)tioii — His popularity — His demeanour — His craftiness — Rain churned out of a milk sack — Tree struck by lightning — A baboon in requisition — The lion’s heart — A grand discovery — Exhumation of a body — The rain-maker begins to despair — He seeks counsel — A grave charge — The rainmaker condemned — He leaves the country.

In every heathen country the missionary finds, to his sorrow, some predominating barriers to his use¬ fulness, which require to he overcome before he can expect to reach the judgments of the populace. Sorcerers, or rain-makers, (for both offices are generally assumed by one individual,) are the principal with which he has to contend in the interior of Southern Africa. They are, as Mr. Kay rightly designates them, our inveterate enemies, and uniformly oppose the introduction of Christianity amongst their countrymen to the utmost of their power. Like the angekoks of the Greenlanders, the pawaws of the Indians, and the greegrees of Western Africa, they constitute the very pillars of Satan’s kingdom in all j)laces where such impostors are found. By them is his throne supported and the people kept in bondage; when these, therefore, are confounded, and constrained

to flee, we cannot but rejoice, for then indeed have we demonstrative evidence that ‘ the kingdom of God is not in word but in power.’” The rain-maker is, in the estimation of the people, no mean personage, possessing an influence over the minds of the people, superior even to that of their king, who is likewise compelled to yield to the dictates of this arch-official. The anomalies in the human character can alone account for reasonable, and often intelligent beings, yielding a passive obedience to the absurd demands of this capricious individual. Nothing can exceed his freaks of fancy, and the adroitness with which he can awe the public mind, and lead thousands captive at his will. Each tribe has one, and sometimes more, who are also doctors and sextons, or the superintendents of the burying of the dead, it being generally believed that that ceremony has some influence over the watery treasures which float in the skies. He will sometimes give orders, that none of the dead must be buried, but dragged to a distance from the town to be devoured by the hyenas and jackals. One old woman died in her house not far from our premises; we dared not commit the body to the dust, and having no friend to perform the needful duty, her son was called from a distance. From their national horror of a corpse, he tied a thong to her leg, avoiding the touch of that form which gave him birth, dragged the corpse to some hushes, and left the thong, because it had been in contact with the body of his mother. Though the bodies of the poor are habitually exposed, the orders of the rain-maker apply to all, because if any were buried it would not rain. This shows that, in their ceremonies connected with burying the dead, there is no reference to pleasing the spirits of the departed; on the contrary, a rain¬ maker himself contended that there were no such existences. What is the ditference,’’ he asked me, pointing to his dog, “between me and that animal? You say I am immortal, and why not my dog or my ox? They die, and do you see their souls? What is the difference between man and the beasts? None, except that man is the greater rogue of the two.” Such was that wise man’s view of man’s dignity and man’s immortality! Yet, notwithstanding this low estimate, when a person was buried, a privilege granted to the more noble, it was attended to with scrupulous minuteness.

The followina: is a brief sketch of the ceremony of interment, and the custom which prevails among these tribes in reference to the dying. When they see any indications of approaching dissolution in fainting fits or convulsive throes, they throw a net over the body, and hold it in a sitting posture, with the knees brought in contact with the chin, till life is gone. The grave, which is frequently made in the fence surrounding the cattle fold, or in the fold itself, if for a man, is about three feet in diameter, and six feet deep. The interior is rubbed over with a large hull). The body is not conveyed through the door of the fore-vard or court connected with each house, hut an o])ening is made in the fence for that purpose. It is carried to the grave, having the head covered with a skin, and is placed in a sitting posture. Much time is spent in order to fix the corpse exactly facing the north; and though they have no compass, they manage, after some consultation, to place it very

nearly in the required position. Portions of an ant-hill are placed about the feet, when the net which held the body is gradually withdrawn; as the grave is filled up, the earth is handed in with bowls, while two men stand in the hole to tread it down round the body, great care being taken to pick out every thing like a root or pebble. When the earth reaches the height of the mouth, a small twig or branch of an acacia is thrown in, and on the top of the head a few roots of grass are placed; and when the grave is nearly filled, another root of grass is fixed immediately above the head, part of which stands above ground. When finished, the men and women stoop, and with their hands scrape the loose soil around on to the little mound. A large bowl of water, with an infusion of bulbs, is then brought, when the men and women wash their hands and the upper part of their feet, shouting “pula, pula,” rain, rain. An old woman, probably a relation, will then bring his weapons, bows, arrows, war-axe, and spears, also grain and garden seeds of various kinds, and even the bone of an old pack-ox, with other things, and address the grave, saying, ‘‘There are all your articles.” These are then taken away, and bowls of water are poured on the grave, when all retire, the women wailing, “Yo, yo, yo,” with some doleful dirge, sorrowing without hope. These ceremonies vary in different localities, and according to the rank of the individual who is committed to the dust. It is remarkable that they should address the dead; and I have eagerly embraced this season to convince them that if ilxeij did not believe in the immortality of the soul, it was evident from this, to them now unmeaning custom. that their ancestors once did. Some would admit this might possibly have been the case, but doubted whether they could have been so foolish. But with few exceptions amongst such a people, argument soon closes, or is turned into ridicule, and the great difficulty presents itself of producing conviction where there is no reflection. When we would appeal to the supposed influence of the dead body in neutralizing the rain-maker’s medicines for producing rain, and inquire how such an influence operated, the reply would be, “The rain-maker says so.”

Years of drought had been severely felt, and the natives, tenacious of their faith in the potency of a man, held a council, and passed resolutions to send for a rain-maker of renown from the Bahurutsi tribe, 200 miles north-east of the Kuruman station. Rain- makers have always most honour among a strange people, and therefore they are generally foreigners. The one in question had been very successful among the Bahurutsian mountains, which, lying on the east of the Backbone of Africa, and at the sources of those rivers which empty themselves into the Indian Ocean, were visited not only with great thunder storms, but land rains, with the under strata of clouds, which the natives call female ones, resting on the summits. It was natural to suppose that the offer must be a tempting one which would draw him from a post so lucrative, and where he had so much signalized his boasted powers. The Bechuanas possess very inventive minds; and when they have a point to gain, as truth and honour are never regarded, they find no difficulty in embellishing their story. The ambassadors received their commission,

with the strictest injunction not to return without the man. No doubt many were their cogitations on the journey how they might best succeed. Promises were cheap, and with a redundance of the fairest kind, they succeeded beyond expectation. This, however, was not surprising, when they assured him that if he would only come to the land of the Batlapis, and open the teats of the heavens, which had become as hard as a stone, cause the rains to fall, and quench the flaming ground, he should be made the greatest man that ever lived; his riches should be beyond all calculation; his flocks covering the hills and plains; he should wash his hands in milk, while all would exalt him in the song, and mothers and children would call him blessed. When a period had elapsed sufficient to allow the messengers time to return, it was rumoured through the town, that they had been murdered, a common event in those days. The gloom which this cast over the native mind, formed a striking contrast to the dazzling rays pouring forth from an almost vertical sun blazing in a cloudless sky. The heavens had been as brass, scarcely a cloud had been seen for months, even on the distant horizon. Suddenly a shout was raised, and the whole town was in motion. The rain-maker was approaching. Every voice was raised to the highest pitch with acclamations of enthusiastic joy. He had sent a harbinger to announce his approach, with peremptory orders for all the inhabitants of the town to wash their feet. Every one seemed to fly in swiftest obedience to the adjoining river. Noble and ignoble, even the girl who attended to our kitchen fire, ran. Old and young ran. All the world could not have stopped them. By this time the clouds began to gather, and a crowd went out to welcome the mighty man who, as they imagined, was now collecting in the heavens his stores of rain. Just as he was descending the height into the town, the immense concourse danced and shouted, so that the very earth rang, and at the same time the lightnings darted, and the thunders roared in awful grandeur. A few heavy drops fell, which produced the most thrill¬ ing ecstasy on the deluded multitude, whose shoutings bathed all description. Faith hung upon the lips of the impostor, while he proclaimed aloud that this year the women must cultivate gardens on the hills, and not in the valleys, for these would be deluged. After the din had somewhat subsided, a few individuals came to our dwellings to treat us and our doctrines with derision. ‘’Where is your God?’’ one asked with a sneer. We were silent, because the wicked were before us. He continued, “”Have you not seen our Morimo? Have you not beheld him cast from his arm his fiery spears, and rend the heavens? Have you not heard with your ears his voice in the clouds?” adding, with an interjection of supreme disgust, “You talk of Jehovah, and Jesus,

do?” Never in my life do I remember a text being brought home with such power as the words of the Psalmist; “Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen.” Then truly the enemy came in as a flood, and it became us to take refuge in the Most High, to be enabled to lift up a standard against him. In conducting our evening service, my mind was powerfully directed to Psalm xcvii. 2, “Clouds and darkness are round about him,” etc.

what can they
rain-maker’s popularity.

It was natural for us to calculate on our already dark and devious course becoming more gloomy still, from the stormy ebullitions of minds inflated by the fictitious scenes which the magic powers of the rain¬ maker could paint with a masterly hand. He had before his singularly delightful, though clamorous reception among his new friends, been particularly informed of the character and objects of the Mission¬ aries, which his discerning mind would soon discover stood in fearful opposition to his own. The rain¬ makers, as I have since had frequent opportunities of observing, were men of no common calibre, and it was the conviction of their natural superiority of genius, which emboldened them to lay the public mind prostrate before the reveries of their fancies. Being foreigners, they generally amplified prodigiously on their former feats. The present one, as has been noticed, was above the common order. He kept the chiefs and nobles gazing on him with silent amazement, while the demon of mendacity enriched his themes with lively imagery, making them fancy they saw their corn-fields floating in the breeze, and their flocks and herds return lowing homewards by noonday from the abundance of pasture. He had in his wrath desolated the cities of the enemies of his people, by stretching forth his hand, and commanding the clouds to burst upon them. He had arrested the progress of a powerlul army, by causing a flood to descend, which formed a mighty river, and arrested their course. These, and many other pretended suyernatural displays of his power, were received as sober truths. The report of his fame spread like wild-fire, and the chiefs of the neighbour-Ills DEMEANOUR. ing tribes came to pay him homage. We scarcely knew whether to expect from him open hostility, secret machinations, or professed friendship. He, like all of his profession, was a thinking and calculating soul, in the habit of studying human nature, affable, engaging, with an acute eye, and exhibiting a dignity of mien, with an ample share of self-esteem, which, notwithstanding all his obsequiousness, he could not hide. He waited upon us, and it was well; for though we wished at all times to become all thin2:s to all men, he would have grown old before we could have constrained ourselves to pay court to one, who, under the influence of the great enemy of souls, had reached the very pinnacle of fame. He found we were men of peace, and would not quarrel. For the sake of obtaining a small piece of tobacco, he would occasion¬ ally pay us a visit, and even enter the place of worship. He was also studious not to give offence, while in the course of conversation he would give a feeble assent to our views as to the sources of that element, over which he pretended to have a sovereign control. He said he was poor, and this fact to thinking minds, would have proved that his successful achievements must have been either gratuitous or ill rewarded. When I put a question on the subject to one of his admirers, in order to excite suspicion, the reply was, The Fahurutsis,” the people from whom he came, “are stingy; they never reward peoy)le for their services.”

It might be briefly noticed that in order to carry on the I’raud, he would, when clouds appeared, order the women neither to plant nor sow, lest they should he scared away. He would also require them to go rain-maker’s craftiness.

to the fields, and gather certain roots and herbs, with which he might light what appeared to the natives mysterious fires. Elate with hope, they would go in crowds to the hills and dales, herborize, and return to the town with songs, and lay their gatherings at his feet. With these he would sometimes proceed to certain hills, and raise smoke; gladly would he have raised the wind also, if he could have done so, well knowing that the latter is frequently the precursor of rain. He would select the time of new and full moon for his purpose, aware that at those seasons there was frequently a change in the atmosphere. It was often a matter of speculation with me whether such men had not the fullest conviction in their own minds that they were gulling the public; and opportunities have been afforded which convinced me that my suspicions were well grounded. I met one among the Barolongs, who, from some service I had done him, thought me very kind, and with whom, before he knew my character, I became very intimate. He had derived benefit from some of my medicines, and consequently viewed me as a doctor and one of his own fraternity. In reply to some of my remarks, he said, “It is only wise men who can be rain-makers, for it requires very great wisdom to deceive so many;” adding, “you and I know that.” At the same time he gave me a broad hint that I must not remain there, lest I should interfere with his field of labour.

The rain-maker found the clouds in our country rather harder to manage than those he had left. He complained that secret rogues were disobeying his proclamations. When urged to make repeated trials, he would reply, “You only give me sheep and goats

to kill, therefore I can only make goat-rain; give me fat slaughter oxen, and I shall let you see ox-rain.” One day, as he was taking a sound sleep, a shower fell, on which one of the principal men entered his house to congratulate him, but to his utter amazement found him totally insensible to what was transpiring. “Hela ka rare, (Halloo, by my father,) I thought you were making rain,” said the intruder, when, arising from his slumbers, and seeing his wife sitting on the door shaking a milk-sack in order to obtain a little butter to anoint her hair, he replied, pointing to the operation of churning, “Do you not see my wife churning rain as fast as she can?” This reply gave entire satisfaction, and it presently spread through the length and breadth of the town, that the rain-maker had churned the shower out of a milk-sack. The moisture caused by this shower was dried up by a scorching sun, and many long weeks followed without a single cloud, and when these did appear they might sometimes be seen, to the great mortidcation of the conjuror, to discharge their watery treasures at an immense distance. This disappointment was increased when a heavy cloud would pass over with tremendous thunder, but not one drop of rain. There had been several successive years of drought, during which water had not been seen to dow upon the ground; and in that climate, if rain does not fall continuously and in considerable quantities, it is all exhaled in a couple of hours. In digging graves we have found the earth as dry as dust at four or five feet depth, when the surface was saturated with rain.

The women had cultivated extensive delds, but the

seed was lying in the soil as it had been thrown from the hand; the cattle were dying from want of pasture, and hundreds of living skeletons were seen going to the fields in quest of unwholesome roots and reptiles, while many were dying with hunger. Our sheep, as before stated, were soon likely to be all devoured, and finding their number daily diminish, we slaughtered the remainder, and put the meat in salt, which of course was far from being agreeable in such a climate, and where vegetables were so scarce.

All these circumstances irritated the rain-maker very much; but he was often puzzled to find some¬ thing on which to lay the blame, for he had exhausted his skill. One night, a small cloud passed over, and the only flash of lightning, from which a heavy peal of thunder burst, struck a tree in the town. Next day the rain-maker and a number of people assembled to perform the usual ceremony on such an event. It was ascended, and ropes of grass and grass roots were bound round different parts of the trunk, which in the Acacia Giraffe is seldom much injured. A limb may be torn off, but of numerous trees of that species which I have seen struck by lightning, the trunk appears to resist its power, as the fluid produces only a stripe or groove along the bark to the ground. When these bandages were made he deposited some of his nostrums, and got quantities of water handed up, which he poured with great solemnity on the wounded tree, while the assembled multitude shouted

Piila, pida.” This done, the tree was hewn down, dragged out of the town, and burned to ashes. Soon after this unmeaning ceremony, he got large howls of water, with which was mingled an infusion of bulbs, All the men of the town then came together, and passed in succession before him, when he sprinkled each with a zebra’s tail, which he dipped in the water.

As all this, and much more, did not succeed, he had recourse to another stratagem. He knew well that baboons were not very easily caught among the rocky glens and shelving precipices, therefore, in order to gain time, he informed the men that, to make rain, he must have a baboon: that the animal must he without a blemish, not a hair was to be wanting on its body. One would have thought any simpleton might have seen through his tricks, as their being able to present him with a baboon in that state was impossible, even though they caught him asleep. Forth sallied a hand of chosen runners, who ascended the neighbouring mountain. The baboons from their

lofty domiciles had been in the habit of looking down on the plain beneath at the natives encircling, and pursuing the quaggas and antelopes, little dreaming that one day they would themselves be objects of pursuit. They hobbled off in consternation, grunting and screaming, and leaping from rock to rock, occasionally looking down on their pursuers, grinning and gnashing their teeth.

After a long pursuit, with wounded limbs, scratched bodies, and broken toes, a young one was secured, and brought to the town, the captors exulting as if they had obtained a great spoil. The wily rogue, on seeing the animal, put on a countenance exhibiting the most intense sorrow, exclaiming, “My heart is rent in pieces; I am dumb with grief;” and pointing to the car of the baboon, which was scratched, and the tail.

which had lost some hairs, added, Did I not tell you I could not make rain if there was one hair wanting?” After some days another was obtained; but there was still some imperfection, real or alleged. He had often said, that, if they would procure him the heart of a lion, he would show them he could make rain so abundant, that a man might think himself well off to be under shelter, as when it fell it might sweep whole towns away. He had discovered that the clouds required strong medicine, and that a lion’s heart would do the business. To obtain this, the rain-maker well knew, was no joke. One day it was announced that a lion had attacked one of the cattle outposts not far from the town, and a party set off for the twofold purpose of getting a key to the clouds and disposing of a dangerous enemy. The orders were imperative, whatever the consequences might be, which, in this instance, might have been very serious, had not one of our men shot the terrific animal dead with a gun. This was no sooner done than it was cut up for roast¬ ing and boiling; no matter if it had previously eaten some of their relations, they ate it in its turn. No¬ thing could exceed their enthusiasm vdien they re¬ turned to the town, bearing the lion’s heart, and singing the conqueror’s song in full chorus; the rain¬ maker prepared his medicines, kindled his fires, and might be seen upon the top of the hill, stretching forth his puny hands, and beckoning the clouds to draw near, or even shaking his spear, and threatening that if they disobeyed they should feel his ire. The deluded populace believed all this, and wondered the rains would not fall. Asking an experienced and judicious man, the king’s uncle, how it was that so great an operator on the clouds could not succeed, “Ah,” he replied, with apparent feeling, there is a cause for the hardheartedness of the clouds, if the rain-maker could only find it out.” A scrutinizing watch was kept up on every thing done by the missionaries. Some weeks after my return from a visit to Griqua Town, a grand discovery was made, that the rain had been prevented by my bringing a hag of salt from that place in my wagon. The charge was made by the king and his attendants, with great gravity and form. As giving the least offence by laughing at their puerile actions, ought always to he avoided when dealing with a people who are sincere, though deluded, the case was on my part investigated with more than usual solemnity. Mothibi and his aid-de-camp accompanied me to the store-house where the identical bag stood. It was open, with the white contents full in view. ‘‘There it is,” he exclaimed, with an air of satisfaction. But finding, on examination, that the reported salt was only white clay or chalk, they could not help laughing at their own credulity.

We fearlessly pointed out to them their delusion, and our only wonder was that we had not been accused before; we had occasionally heard whisperings that we were not guiltless of the great drought. We tried, both in y)ublic and in private conversation, to impress them with the sublime truths of creation, jirovidence, and redemption; hut the universal reply was, “Maka hela,” only lies. In a conversation with Mothibi, the rain-maker, and a few others, I re¬ marked, in reference to some insinuations, that I should with great pleasure meet him before an assem-EXHUMATION OF A BODY.

bly of the people, and discuss the subject. To this he at first consented, but soon afterwards retracted, for this reason, that the subject which we should have to discuss was far too high for the people, being what only rain-makers and philosophers could talk about. We consoled ourselves with the hope that there was no probability of our being implicated, as our few cows, as well as theirs, were dying, and we were without a drop of milk. Nothing could exceed the artfulness with which he carried on the game; he said the Bushmen had cut down certain bushes behind the hills, and he advised an extirpating commando to go against them. This was overruled. He then dis¬ covered that a corpse, which had been put into the ground some weeks before, had not received enough water at its burial. He knew the horror the Bechuanas had at the idea of touching a putrid body, and he thought he would fix them, and made it known that the body must be taken up, washed, and re-interred. He supposed they would not do this, but he was mis¬ taken; the ceremony, horrible as it must have been, was performed, but the sky remained cloudless still.

The people at last became impatient, and poured forth their curses against brother Hamilton and myself, as the cause of all their sorrows. Our bell, which was rung for public worship, they said, frightened the clouds; our prayers came in also for a share of the blame. ‘‘Don’t you,” said the chief rather fiercely to me, “bow down in your houses, and pray and talk to something bad in the ground?” A council was held, and restrictions were to be laid on all our actions. We refused compliance, urging that the spot on which the mission premises stood had been given to the missionaries. The rain-maker appeared to avoid accusing ns openly; he felt some sense of obligation, his wife having experienced that my medicines and mode of bleeding did her more good than all his nostrums. He would occasionally visit our humble dwellings, and when I happened to he in the smith’s shop, he would look on most intently when he saw a piece of iron welded, or an instrument made, and tell me privately he wished I were living among his people, assuring me that there was plenty of timber and iron there.

One dav he came and sat down with a face somewhat elongated, and evincing inward dissatisfaction. On making inquiry, I found, as I had heard whispered the day before, that all was not right; the public voice was sounding ominous in his ears. He inquired how the women were in our country; and supposing he wished to know what they were like, I pointed him to my wife, adding that there were some taller, and some shorter than she was. ‘‘That is not what I mean,” he replied; “I want to know what part they take in public affairs, and how they act when they do so.” I replied, “that when the women of my country had occasion to take an active part in any public affairs, they carried all before them;” adding, in a jocose strain, “wait till we missionaries get the women on our side, as they now are on yours, and there will be no more rain-makers in the countrv.” At this remark he looked at me as if I had just risen out of the earth. “May that time never arrive!” he cried, with a countenance expressive of unusual anxiety. I replied, “that time would assuredly come, for Jehovah, the mighty God, had

spoken it.” He was evidently chagrined, for he had come for advice. What am I to do?” he inquired; “I wish all the women were men; I can get on with the men, hut I cannot manage the women.” I viewed this as a delicate moment, and, feeling the need of caution, replied “that the women had just cause to complain; he had promised them rain, hut the land was dust, their gardens burned up, and, were I a woman, I would complain as loudly as any of them.” To his inquiry, “What am I to do to pacify them?” I recommended him to he an honest man, and confess that he had been misleading himself as well as the public.

They will kill me,” he said. I repeated my advice, “Be honest,” adding, that if he were in any danger, we would do what we could to save him. He arose, and retired with a sorrowful countenance, leaving Mr. Hamilton and myself to draw our own conclusions. Of one thing we were persuaded, that a storm was gathering, not such a one, however, as would cover the hills and valleys with verdure, and the fields with corn, but one which might sweep away the desire of our hearts, in breaking up the mission. At such sea¬ sons we were enabled by faith to realize the consoling assurance, “The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.”

The rain-maker kept himself very secluded for a fortnight, and, after cogitating how he could make his own cause good, he appeared in the public fold, and proclaimed that he had discovered the cause of the drought. All were now eagerly listening; he dilated some time, till he had raised their expectation to the highest pitch, when he revealed the mystery. “Do you not see, when clouds come over us, that Kamilton and Moffat look at them?’’ This question receiving a hearty and unanimous affirmation; he added, that our white faces frightened away the clouds, and they need not expect rain so long as we were in the countrv. This was a home stroke, and it was an easy matter for us to calculate what the influence of such a charge would he on the public mind. We were verv soon informed of the evil of our conduct, to which we pleaded guilty, promising, that as we were not aware that we were doing wrong, being as anxious as any of them for rain, we would willingly look to our chins, or the ground, all the day long, if it would serve their purpose. It was rather remark¬ able, that much as they admired my long black beard, they thouaiit that in this case it was most to blame.

However, this season of trial passed over, to our great comfort, though it was followed for some time with many indications of suspicion and distrust.

Shortly after, we accidentally heard that some one was to be speared. Violent as the natives some times were against us, we did not suspect injury was intended to ourselves. We imagined it was the poor rain-maker; and though we felt anxious by any means to save his life, the great difficulty was to find out whether he was to be the victim; for though we had several of their people about us, and their council chamber was in the open air, exposed to the vulgar, it was a difficult matter to discover secrets of that description. Anxious to save life, which the Bechuanas will sometimes allow to be redeemed, it occurred to me that a very simple stratagem might unveil the mystery: I knew an individual of influence who was likely to know the affair. She was olten

ailing, and, like all the natives, fond of medicines, for among such a people a doctor is always welcome, especially if he asks no fee. My inquiries about the state of her health, and the expression of sympathy, were most acceptable; and the moment I saw her well pleased, I asked, as if it were a well-known fact, “Why are they thinking of killing the rain-maker? they surely do not intend to eat him. Why not let the poor man go to his own land?” She very abruptly asked, ‘WVho told you?” Rising, I said, “That is all I want to know;” when she called out after me, Do not tell that I told you, or they will kill me.” I entered the public fold, where about thirty of the principal men sat in secret council; it was a council of death. Had I put the question whether they really intended to commit that deed, they would have gazed on me with utter amazement, that I should have harboured such a suspicion, and have sworn, by all their forefathers that ever lived, that they had no such intention. I asked no question, but charged them with the fact, pointing out the magnitude of the crime of adding sin to sin, thus provoking Jehovah, by placing a man on His throne, and then killing him because he was unable to do what they wished him to perform. I then pleaded hard that his life might be spared, and he allowed to return to his own country in peace. A well-known old man arose, in a state of great rage, quivering his spear, and, adverting to the excessive drought, the lean herds, the dying people, and the cattle which the rain -maker had eaten, vowed that he would plunge that spear into the rain-maker’s heart, and asked who was to hinder him. I said I should with my entreaties, and if these would not do, I should offer a ran¬ som to save his life. I was asked if I was not aware that he was our enemy, and that if he had had his will we should have been dead. They had often thought us very silly and weak-minded, to persist in telling them the same thing so often about “one Jesus but now to see a man labour to save the life of his enemy, was what they could not comprehend. His life was spared, however; and Mothibi, after conducting him over the plain towards the Matluarin River, returned, and entered our house with a smile of the most entire satisfaction on his countenance, perfectly sensible of his meritorious conduct, and expecting congratulations, which were liberally, and we thought deservedly, bestowed.

Thus ended, among the Batlapis, the career of a notable rain-maker, whom I shall have occasion to notice in my visit to the Bauangketsi nation, where he was eventually murdered. It is a remarkable fact that a rain-maker seldom dies a natural death. I have known some and heard of many, who had, by one means or other, fallen a prey to the fury of their dis¬ appointed employers; but notwithstanding this, there was no want of successors. There is not one tribe who have not imbrued their hands in the blood of these impostors, whom they first adore, then curse, destroy.

and lastly