IMPERFECT RELIGIOUS SYSTEM OF THE KAFFIR — HIS IDEA OF A CREATOR — HOW DEATH CAME INTO THE WORLD — LEGENDS AND TRADITIONS — BELIEF IN THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL — THE SPIRITS OF THE DEAD, AND THEIR SUPPOSED INFLUENCE — TCHAKA’s VISION — A KAFFIR SEER AND HIS STORY — PURSUITS OF DEPARTED SPIRITS — THE LIMITS OF THEIR POWER — ANIMALS USED FOR SACRIFICE TO THEM — TEMPORARY TRANSMIGRATION — VARIOUS OMENS, AND MEANS FOR AVERTING THEM — WHY SACRIFICES ARE MADE — A NATIVE’S HISTORY OF A SACRIFICE, AND ITS OBJECTS — THE FEAST OF FIRST-FRUITS — SACRIFICE OF THE BULL, AND THE STRANGE CEREMONIES WHICH ATTEND IT — KAFFIR PROPHETS AND THEIR OFFICES — HEREDITARY TRANSMISSION OF PROPHECY — PROGRESS OF A PROPHET — THE CHANGE — INTERVIEW WITH AN OLD PROPHET — THE PROBATIONARY STAGES OF PROPHECY — A PROPHET’S RETURN TO HIS FAMILY — SCHOOL OF THE PROPHETS — SEARCH FOR THE SPIRITS — THE GREAT SACRIFICE, AND RECEPTION INTO THE COMPANY OF PROPHETS — THE WAND OF OFFICE — DRESS OF A PROPHET.

It is not very easy to say whether a Kaffir possesses any religion at all, in our sense of the word. With superstition he is deeply imbued, and passes his lifetime in considerable dread of witchcraft and of evil spirits. But religion which conveys any sense of moral responsibility, seems to be incomprehensible to the ordinary Kaffir, and even his naturally logical mind inclines him to practical atheism. As far as is known, the Kaffir tribes have a sort of tradition concerning a Creator, whom they call by a compound word that may be translated as the Great-Great, and to whom they attribute the first origin of all things. But it is certain they offer him no worship, and make no prayers to him, and have no idea that they are personally responsible to him for their acts. Moreover many of the tribes do not even possess this imperfect knowledge; and even in those cases where it does exist, its origin is very uncertain, and it is impossible to ascertain whether the tradition may not be a corrupted recollection of instruction received from some European. Such, indeed, has been known to be the case among the Kaffirs, and it is probable that the knowledge of a Creator is really derived from European sources. At all events, such knowledge is by no means universal, and exercises such small influence on the people that it is scarcely worthy of mention.

There are, indeed, one or two legendary stories concerning the Great-Great, relating to the creation of man, and to the duration of human life. The man is supposed to have been created by splitting a reed, from which the first parents of the human race proceeded. This legend is probably due to a double meaning of the word signifying “origin” and “create,” which also signify “reed” and “splitting.” Another form of the tradition deprives the Great-Great of all creatorship, and makes him to be one of the two who issued from the split reed, so that he is rather the great ancestor of the human race than its creator.

The tradition concerning the affliction of death upon the human race is a very curious one, and was related to the missionaries by a native who had been converted to Christianity.

When mankind had increased upon the earth, the Great-Great took counsel with himself, and sent two messengers to them, one the giver of life, the other the herald of death. The first messenger was the chameleon, who was ordered to go and utter the proclamation, “Let not the people die!” The chameleon set off on its mission, but lingered on the road, stopping occasionally to eat by the way, and walking leisurely instead of running. The second messenger was the salamander, who was commanded to proclaim, “Let the people die!” But the latter was the more obedient, and ran the whole of the journey, until he reached the habitation of men, when he proclaimed his message of death. Shortly afterward, the chameleon arrived and delivered his message, when the salamander beat him and drove him away, as having failed in his duty to his Master. Then the people lamented because they had received the message of death before that of life, and from that time men have been subject to the power of death. The consequence is, that both animals are detested by the Kaffirs, who kill the chameleon when they find it, because it lingered on the way, and lost them the gift of immortality. And they are equally sure to kill the salamander, because, when it was charged with such a dread message, it hastened on its journey, and anticipated the chameleon in its message of life. There are many variations of this story, but in its main points it is current throughout many parts of Southern Africa.

Although the Kaffir’s ideas of the Creator are so vague and undefined, he has at all events a very firm belief in the existence of the soul and its immortality after death. Tchaka once made use of this belief in a very ingenious manner. The people had become rather tired of war, and required some inducement to make them welcome the order for battle as heretofore. Whereupon, Tchaka had a vision of Umbia, a well-known chief, who had served under his father, and who appeared to Tchaka to tell him that his father was becoming angry with the Zulu tribe because they had become lazy, and had not gone to war against the remaining unconquered tribes. This laziness on the part of the Zulus who still inhabited the earth was displeasing to the spirits of the dead, who would be very comfortable below ground with a plenty of wives and cattle, as soon as they saw their tribe in supreme authority over the whole land, from the Draakensberg to the sea.

In honor of this messenger from the shades, Tchaka ordered numbers of cattle to be slaughtered in all his military kraals, gave sumptuous feasts, and raised the descendants of Umbia to the rank of Indunas. Of course, the name of Umbia was in all mouths, and, while the excitement was at its height, an old man suddenly disappeared from his hut, having been dragged away, according to his wife’s account, by a lion. The affair was reported to Tchaka in council, but he affected to take no notice of it. After the lapse of three months, when the immediate excitement had died away, the old man reappeared before Tchaka with his head-ring torn off, and clothed in a wild and fantastic manner.

He said that the lion had dragged him away to its den, when the earth suddenly opened and swallowed them both up. The lion accompanied him without doing him any harm, and brought him to a place where there was some red earth. This also gave way, and he fell into another abyss, where he lay stunned by the fall. On recovering, he found himself in a pleasant country, and discovered that it was inhabited by the spirits of Zulus who had died, and whom he had known in life. There was Senzangakona, the father of Tchaka, with his councillors, his chiefs, his soldiers, his wives, and his cattle. Umbia was also there, and enjoyed himself very much. Since his departure into the shades, he had become a great doctor, and was accustomed to stroll about at night, instead of staying at home quietly with his family. No one seemed to know where he had gone, but he told the narrator that he used to revisit earth in order to see his friends and relatives. For three months the narrator was kept in the shades below, and was then told to go back to his tribe and narrate what he had seen.

Tchaka pretended to disbelieve the narrative, and publicly treated with contempt the man, denouncing him as a liar, and sending for prophets who should “smell” him, and discover whether he had told the truth. The seers arrived, performed their conjurations, “smelt” the man, and stated that he had told the truth, that he had really visited the spirits of the dead, and that he had been fetched by the lion because the people did not believe the vision that had appeared to Tchaka. It is needless to observe that the whole business had been previously arranged by that wily chief, in order to carry out his ambitious purposes.

Unbounded as is in one respect their reverence for the spirits of their ancestors, they attribute to those same spirits a very limited range of power. A Kaffir has the very highest respect for the spirits of his own ancestors, or those of his chief, but pays not the least regard to those which belong to other families. The spirit of a departed Kaffir is supposed to have no sympathy except with relations and immediate descendants.

It has been already mentioned that, after the death of a Kaffir, his spirit is supposed to dwell in the shade below, and to have the power of influencing the survivors of his own family, whether for good or evil. He likes cattle to be sacrificed to his name, because, in that case, he adds the spirits of the dead cattle to his herd below, while his friends above eat the flesh, so that both parties are well pleased. Sometimes, if he thinks that he has been neglected by them, he visits his displeasure by afflicting them with various diseases, from which they seldom expect to recover without the sacrifice of cattle. If the ailment is comparatively trifling, the sacrifice of a goat is deemed sufficient; but if the malady be serious, nothing but an ox, or in some cases several oxen, are required before the offended spirits will relent. Sheep seem never to be used for this purpose.

If the reader will refer to page 78, he will see that the sacrifice of cattle in case of sickness forms part of a guardian’s duty toward a young girl, and that, if her temporary guardian should have complied with this custom, her relatives, should they he discovered, are bound to refund such cattle.

That the spirits of the dead are allowed to quit their shadowy home below and to revisit their friends has already been mentioned. In some instances, as in the case of Umbia, they are supposed to present themselves in their own form. But the usual plan is, for them to adopt the shape of some animal which is not in the habit of entering human dwellings, and so to appear under a borrowed form. The serpent or the lizard shape is supposed to be the favorite mark under which the spirit conceals its identity, and the man whose house it enters is left to exercise his ingenuity in guessing the particular spirit that may be enshrined in the strange animal. In order to ascertain precisely the character of the visitor, he lays a stick gently on its back; and if it shows no sign of anger, he is quite sure that he is favored with the presence of one of his dead ancestors. There are few Kaffirs that will make such a discovery, and will not offer a sacrifice at once, for the prevalent idea in their mind is, that an ancestor would not have taken the trouble to come on earth, except to give a warning that, unless he were treated with more respect, some evil consequence would follow. In consequence of this belief, most of the Kaffirs have a great dislike to killing serpents and lizards, not knowing whether they may not be acting rudely toward some dead ancestor who will avenge himself upon them for their want of respect.

Should a cow or a calf enter a hut, the Kaffir would take no notice of it, as these animals are in the habit of entering human dwellings; but if a sheep were to do so, he would immediately fancy that it was inspired with the shade of one of his ancestors. The same would be the case with a wild animal of any kind, unless it were a beast of prey, in which case it might possibly have made its way into the hut in search of food. A similar exception would be made with regard to antelopes and other animals which had been hunted, and had rushed into the kraal or crept into the hut as a refuge from their foes.

Sacrifices are often made, not only to remove existing evils, but to avert impending danger. In battle, for example, a soldier who finds that the enemy are getting the upper hand, will make a vow to his ancestors that if he comes safely out of the fight, he will make a sacrifice to them, and this vow is always kept. Even if the soldier should be a “boy,” who has no cattle, his father or nearest relation would think himself bound to fulfil the vow. Now and then, if he should find that the danger was not so great as was anticipated, he will compromise the matter by offering a goat. Unless a sacrifice of some kind were made, the vengeance of the offended spirits would be terrible, and no Kaffir would willingly run such a risk.

Sacrifices are also offered for the purpose of obtaining certain favors. For example, as has been already mentioned, when an army starts on an expedition, sacrifices are made to the spirits, and a similar rite is performed when a new kraal is built, or a new field laid out. Relatives at home will offer sacrifices in behalf of their absent friends; and when a chief is away from home in command of a war expedition, the sacrifices for his welfare occur almost daily. Sacrifices or thank-offerings ought also to be made when the spirits have been propitious; and if the army is victorious, or the chief returned in health, it is thought right to add another sacrifice to the former, in token of acknowledgment that the previous offering has not been in vain.

The Kaffir generally reserves the largest and finest ox in his herd for sacrifice under very important circumstances, and this animal, which is distinguished by the name of “Ox of the Spirits,” is never sold except on pressing emergency. Mr. Shooter, who has given great attention to the moral culture of the Kaffir tribes, remarks with much truth, that the Kaffir’s idea of a sacrifice is simply a present of food to the spirit. For the same reason, when an ox is solemnly sacrificed, the prophet in attendance calls upon the spirits to come and eat, and adds to the inducement by placing baskets of beer and vessels of snuff by the side of the slaughtered animal. Indeed, when a man is very poor, and has no cattle to sacrifice, he contents himself with these latter offerings.

The account of one of these sacrifices has been translated by Mr. Grout, from the words of a native. After mentioning a great variety of preliminary rites, he proceeds to say, “Now some one person goes out, and when he has come abroad, without the kraal, all who are within their houses keep silence, while he goes round the kraal, the outer enclosure of the kraal, and says, ‘Honor to thee, lord!’ (inkosi.) Offering prayers to the shades, he continues, ‘A blessing, let a blessing come then, since you have really demanded your cow; let sickness depart utterly. Thus we offer your animal.’

“And on our part we say, ‘Let the sick man come out, come forth, be no longer sick, and slaughter your animal then, since we have now consented that he may have it for his own use. Glory to thee, lord; good news; come then, let us see him going about like other people. Now then, we have given you what you want; let us therefore see whether or not it was enjoined in order that he might recover, and that the sickness might pass by.’

“And then, coming out, spear in hand, he enters the cattle fold, comes up and stabs it. The cow cries, says yeh! to which he replies, ‘An animal for the gods ought to show signs of distress’; it is all right then, just what you required. Then they skin it, eat it, finish it.” Sometimes the gall is eaten by the sacrificer, and sometimes it is rubbed over the body.

Another kind of sacrifice is that which is made by the principal man of a kraal, or even by the king himself, about the first of January, the time when the pods of the maize are green, and are in a fit state for food. No Kaffir will venture to eat the produce of the new year until after the festival, which may be called the Feast of First-fruits. The feast lasts for several days, and in order to celebrate it, the whole army assembles, together with the young recruits who have not yet been entrusted with shields. The prophets also assemble in great force, their business being to invent certain modes of preparing food, which will render the body of the consumer strong throughout the year. At this festival, also, the veteran soldiers who have earned their discharge are formally released from service, while the recruits are drafted into the ranks.

The first business is, the sacrifice of the bull. For this purpose a bull is given to the warriors, who are obliged to catch it and strangle it with their naked hands. They are not even allowed a rope with which to bind the animal, and the natural consequence is, that no small amount of torture is inflicted upon the poor animal, while the warriors are placed in considerable jeopardy of their lives. When the bull is dead, the chief prophet opens it, and removes the gall, which he mixes with other medicines and gives to the king and his councillors. The dose thus prepared is always as unsavory a mixture as can well be conceived, but the Kaffir palate is not very delicate, and suffers little under the infliction. The body of the bull is next handed over to the “boys,” who eat as much as they can, and are obliged to burn the remainder. As a general rule, there is very little to be burned. The men do not eat the flesh of this animal, but they feast to their heart’s content on other cattle, which are slaughtered in the usual manner. Dancing, drinking, and taking snuff now set in, and continue in full force for several days, until not even Kaffir energy can endure more exertion.

Then comes the part of the king. The subjects form themselves into a vast ring, into which the king, dressed in all the bravery of his dancing apparel, enters with a bound, amid shouts of welcome from the people. He proceeds to indulge in one of the furious dances which the Kaffirs love, springing high into the air, flourishing his stick of office, and singing songs in his own praises, until he can dance and sing no longer. Generally, this dance is not of very long duration, as the king is almost invariably a fat and unwieldy man, and cannot endure a prolonged exertion. The crowning incident of the feast now takes place. The king stands in the midst of his people—Dingan always stood on a small mound of earth—takes a young and green calabash in his hands, and dashes it upon the ground, so as to break it in pieces; by this act declaring the harvest begun, and the people at liberty to eat of the fruits of the new year. A very similar ceremony takes place among the tribes of American Indians, the consequence of which is frequently that the people abuse the newly granted permission, and in a few days consume all the maize that ought to have served them for the cold months of winter.

The Kaffir has a strong belief in omens; though perhaps not stronger than similar credulity in some parts of our own land. He is always on the look-out for omens, and has as keen an eye for them and their meaning as an ancient augur. Anything that happens out of the ordinary course of events is an omen, either for good or evil, and the natural constitution of a Kaffir’s mind always inclines him to the latter feeling. As in the ancient days, the modern Kaffir finds most of his omens in the actions of animals. One of the worst of omens is the bleating of a sheep as it is being slaughtered. Some years ago this omen occurred in the kraal belonging to one of Panda’s “indunas,” or councillors. A prophet was immediately summoned, and a number of sacrifices offered to avert the evil omen. Panda himself was so uneasy that he added an ox to the sacrifices, and afterward came to the conclusion that a man whose kraal could be visited by such an infliction could not be fit to live. He accordingly sent a party of soldiers to kill the induna, but the man, knowing the character of his chief, took the alarm in time, and escaped into British territory in Natal.

If a goat were to leap on a hut, nothing would be thought of it; but if a dog or a sheep were to do so, it would be an omen. It is rather remarkable that among the North American tribes the roofs of houses form the usual resting-place of the dogs which swarm in every village. If a cow were to eat grain that had been spilled on the ground, it would be no omen; but if she were to push off the cover of a vessel containing grain, and eat the contents, the act would be considered ominous.

Mention has been made once or twice of the prophets, sometimes, but erroneously, called witch doctors. These personages play a most important part in the religious system of the Kaffir tribes; and although their office varies slightly in detail, according to the locality to which they belong, their general characteristics are the same throughout the country. Their chief offices are, communicating with the spirits of the departed, and ascertaining their wishes; discovering the perpetrators of crimes; reversing spells thrown by witchcraft; and lastly, and most important, rain-making.

The office of prophet cannot be assumed by any one who may be ambitious of such a distinction, but is hedged about with many rites and ceremonies. In the first place, it is not every one who is entitled even to become a candidate for the office, which is partly hereditary. A prophet must be descended from a prophet, though he need not be a prophet’s son. Indeed, as a general rule, the sons of prophets do not attain the office which their fathers held, the supernatural afflatus generally passing over one generation, and sometimes two. In the next place, a very long and arduous preparation is made for the office, and the candidate, if he passes successfully through it, is solemnly admitted into the order by a council of seers, who meet for the purpose.

When first the spirit of prophecy manifests itself to a Kaffir, he begins by losing all his interest in the events of every-day life. He becomes depressed in mind; prefers solitude to company; often has fainting fits; and, what is most extraordinary of all, loses his appetite. He is visited by dreams of an extraordinary character, mainly relating to serpents, lions, hyænas, leopards, and other wild beasts. Day by day he becomes more and more possessed, until the perturbations of the spirit manifest themselves openly. In this stage of his novitiate, the future prophet utters terrible yells, leaps here and there with astonishing vigor, and runs about at full speed, leaping and shrieking all the time. When thus excited he will dart into the bush, catch snakes (which an ordinary Kaffir will not touch), tie them round his neck, boldly fling himself into the water, and perform all kinds of insane feats.

This early stage of a prophet’s life is called by the Kaffirs Twasa, a word which signifies the change of the old moon to the new, and the change of winter to spring in the beginning of the year. During its progress, the head of his house is supposed to feel great pride in the fact that a prophet is to be numbered among the family, and to offer sacrifices for the success of the novice. When the preliminary stage is over, the future prophet goes to some old and respected seer, gives him a goat as a fee, and remains under his charge until he has completed the necessary course of instruction. He then assumes the dress and character of a prophet, and if he succeeds in his office he will rise to unbounded power among his tribe. But should his first essay be unsuccessful, he is universally contemned as one whom the spirits of the departed think to be unworthy of their confidence.

Mr. Shooter gives a very graphic account of the preparation of a prophet, who was father to one of his own servants. The reader will not fail to notice that the man in question was entitled by birth to assume the prophet’s office.

“Some of the particulars may be peculiar to his tribe, and some due to the caprice of the individual. A married man (whose mother was the daughter of a prophet) had manifested the symptoms of inspiration when a youth; but his father, not willing to slaughter his cattle as custom would have required, employed a seer of reputation to check the growing ‘change.’ The dispossession was not, however, permanent; and when the youth became a man, the inspiration returned. He professed to have constantly recurring dreams about lions, leopards, elephants, boa-constrictors, and all manner of wild beasts; he dreamed about the Zulu country, and (strangest thing of all) that he had a vehement desire to return to it.

“After a while he became very sick; his wives, thinking he was dying, poured cold water over his prostrate person; and the chief, whose induna he was, sent a messenger to a prophet. The latter declared that the man was becoming inspired, and directed the chief to supply an ox for sacrifice. This was disagreeable, but that personage did not dare to refuse, and the animal was sent; he contrived however to delay the sacrifice, and prudently ordered that, if the patient died in the mean time, the ox should be returned. Having begun to recover his strength, our growing prophet cried and raved like a delirious being, suffering no one to enter his hut, except two of his younger children—a girl and a boy. Many of the tribe came to see him, but he did not permit them to approach his person, and impatiently motioned them away. In a few days he rushed out of his hut, tore away through the fence, ran like a maniac across the grass, and disappeared in the bush. The two children went after him; and the boy (his sister having tired) eventually discovered him on the sea-shore. Before the child could approach, the real or affected madman disappeared again, and was seen no more for two or three days. He then returned home, a strange and frightful spectacle: sickness and fasting had reduced him almost to a skeleton; his eyes glared and stood out from his shrunken face; the ring had been torn from his head, which he had covered with long shaggy grass, while, to complete the hideous picture, a living serpent was twisted round his neck. Having entered the kraal, where his wives were in tears, and all the inmates in sorrow, he saluted them with a wild howl to this effect: ‘People call me mad, I know they say I am mad; that is nothing; the spirits are influencing me—the spirits of Majolo, of Unhlovu, and of my father.’ (See the illustrations on page 173.)

“After this a sort of dance took place, in which he sung or chanted, ‘I thought I was dreaming while I was asleep, but, to my surprise, I was not asleep.’ The women (previously instructed) broke forth into a shrill chorus, referring to his departure from home, his visit to the sea, and his wandering from river to river; while the men did their part by singing two or three unmeaning syllables. The dance and the accompanying chants were several times repeated, the chief actor conducting himself consistently with his previous behavior.

“His dreams continued, and the people were told that he had seen a boa-constrictor in a vision, and could point out the spot where it was to be found. They accompanied him; and, when he had indicated the place, they dug, and discovered two of the reptiles. He endeavored to seize one, but the people held him back, and his son struck the animal with sufficient force to disable but not to kill it. He was then allowed to take the serpent, which he placed round his neck, and the party returned home. Subsequently having (as he alleged) dreamed about a leopard, the people accompanied him, and found it. The beast was slain, and carried in triumph to the kraal.

“When our growing prophet returned home after his absence at the sea, he began to slaughter his cattle, according to custom and continued doing so at intervals until the whole were consumed. Some of them were offered in sacrifice. As the general rule, when there is beef at a kraal the neighbors assemble to eat it; but, when an embryo-seer slays his cattle, those who wish to eat must previously give him something. If however the chief were to give him a cow, the people of the tribe would be free to go. In this case the chief had not done so, and the visitors were obliged to buy their entertainment, one man giving a knife, another a shilling. An individual, who was unable or unwilling to pay, having ventured to present himself with empty hands, our neophyte was exceedingly wroth, and, seizing a stick, gave the intruder a significant hint, which the latter was not slow to comprehend. During the consumption of his cattle, the neophyte disappeared again for two days. When it was finished he went to a prophet, with whom he resided two moons—his children taking him food; and afterward, to receive further instruction, visited another seer. He was then considered qualified to practise.”

The reader may remember that the novitiate prophet occasionally flings himself into water. He chooses the clearest and deepest pool that he can find, and the object of doing so is to try whether any of the spirits will reveal themselves to him at the bottom of the water, though they would not do so on dry land. In the foregoing story of a prophet’s preparation, the narrator does not touch upon the space that intervenes between the novitiate and the admission into the prophetic order. This omission can be supplied by an account given to Mr. Grout, by a native who was a firm believer in the supernatural powers of the prophets.

The state of “change” lasts for a long time, and is generally terminated at the beginning of the new year. He then rubs himself all over with white clay, bedecks himself with living snakes, and goes to a council of seers. They take him to the water—the sea, if they should be within reach of the coast—throw him into the water, and there leave him. He again goes off into solitude, and, when he returns, he is accompanied by the people of his kraal, bringing oxen and goats for sacrifice. He does not sacrifice sheep, because they are silent when killed, whereas an ox lows, and a goat bleats, and it is needful that any animal which is slaughtered as a sacrifice must cry out.

As they are successively sacrificed, he takes out the bladders and gall-bags, inflates them with air, and hangs them about his body, as companions to the snakes which he is already wearing. “He enters pools of water, abounding in serpents and alligators. And now, if he catches a snake, he has power over that; or if he catches a leopard, he has power over the leopard; or if he catches a deadly-poisonous serpent, he has power over the most poisonous serpent. And thus he takes his degrees, the degree of leopard, that he may catch leopards, and of serpent, that he may catch serpents.” Not until he has completed these preparations does he begin to practise his profession, and to exact payment from those who come to ask his advice.

I have in my possession a photograph which represents a Zulu prophet and his wife. It is particularly valuable, as showing the singular contrast in stature between the two sexes, the husband and wife—so small is the latter—scarcely seeming to belong to the same race of mankind. This, indeed, is generally the case throughout the Kaffir tribes. The Kaffir prophet always carries a wand of office—generally a cow’s tail, fastened to a wooden handle—and in his other hand he bears a miniature shield and an assagai.

The engraving opposite represents two prophets, in the full costume of their profession. These were both celebrated men, and had attained old age when their portraits were taken. One of them was peculiarly noted for his skill as a rain-maker, and the other was famous for his knowledge of medicine and the properties of herbs. Each is arrayed in the garments suitable to the business in which he is engaged. Although the same man is generally a rain-maker, a witch-finder, a necromancer, and a physician, he does not wear the same costume on all occasions, but indues the official dress which belongs to the department, and in many cases the change is so great that the man can scarcely be recognized. In one case, he will be dressed merely in the ordinary Kaffir kilt, with a few inflated gall-bladders in his hair, and a snake-skin wound over his shoulders. In another, he will have rubbed his face and body with white earth, covered his head with such quantities of charms that his face can hardly be seen under them, and fringed his limbs with the tails of cows, the long hair-tufts of goats, skins of birds, and other wild and savage adornments; while a perpetual clanking sound is made at every movement by numbers of small tortoise-shells strung on leathern thongs. His movements are equally changed with his clothing; and a man who will, when invoking rain, invest every gesture with solemn and awe-struck grace, will, when acting as witch-finder, lash himself into furious excitement, leap high in the air, flourish his legs and arms about as if they did not belong to him, fill the air with his shrieks, and foam at the mouth as if he had been taken with an epileptic fit. It is rather curious that, while in some Kaffir tribes a man who is liable to fits is avoided and repelled, among others he is thought to be directly inspired by the souls of departed chiefs, and is ipso facto entitled to become a prophet, even though he be not of prophetical descent. He is one who has been specially chosen by the spirits, and may transmit the prophetical office to his descendants.