Cape of Good Hope (South Africa) -- Fiction; English fiction; Xhosa (African people) -- Fiction
It is the wisest-looking little thing you can imagine, is this meercat
of South Africa. Its keen, restless black eye looks right into your
own, and asks questions as plainly almost as speech could do. It has a
way of setting itself up bolt-upright, and turning its head from one
object to another with the most inquisitive air, and adapts itself to
the habits of its owners in a manner perfectly marvellous. I remember
one which, though not very young when taken near the Orange River,
became domesticated like a dog, and was far more sociable than a cat. I
think I see it now, sitting at a garden-gate facing a parade-ground, on
which, at stated hours of the day, troops were wont to exercise. As the
warning bugle sounded, it took up its position; when the regiment fell
in, the meercat placed itself in front of the line; when the men
marched, the little beast advanced in front of the column, halted with
the troops, and when they were again in line, sat down before them, and
watched the commanding officer with a knowing air quite indescribable.
At the close of a drill it would head the band to the limits of the
ground; and when all were dismissed, would return to the house. In the
cold weather, if suspicious of any visitors, it would roll itself into a
ball, and squeeze itself into some corner, where it could not easily be
reached; but it loved best to sit before the fire, with its paws on the
fender, surveying the family group, of which it was the pet, with its
sharp twinkling eyes, and bending its ears knowingly to every
unaccustomed sound.
Such too was the creature that trotted beside Amayeka, now and then
seating itself before her, and glancing from its mistress to the nymphs
in the river, as if to remind her she was called; but she went on, deaf
to the cry "Izapa;" and Gray watched her till she disappeared behind a
tuft of trees overhanging the upper drift. Soon afterwards Lee joined
some young warriors, with whom he had been engaged all the morning in
firing at a mark, and who now summoned him to their employment of
casting bullets at a fire under the rocks; Gray rose also, and descended
by the bank.
Amayeka was seated by the river's brink, with the meercat at her feet;
twilight lingered long, and the young moon shed its first ray of silver
on the water, when a loose stone rolled past her; there was a light
tread, a rustle in the branches of a long-tressed weeping willow, and
Gray's hand fell on her shoulder.
But in a copse above lay the wizard Amani, with his elements of
witchcraft gathered round him--strips of skin from the golden back of
the deadly puff-adder, the hood of a cobra capello, some poisonous roots
steeped in gall, the forefinger of a dead Fingo herdsman, and the skull
of a Hottentot, in which last he was busily mixing up these ghastly
charms with a cement of blood and clay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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