Zulu (African people) -- Fiction; Zululand (South Africa) -- History -- Fiction
Rachel answered, however, that it was as good as any other, since names
could alter nothing. Here, then, at Ramah, Mr. Dove built him a house
on that knoll where first he had pitched his camp. It was a very good
house after its fashion, for, as has been said, he did not lack for
means, and was, moreover, clever in such matters. He hired a mason who
had drifted to Natal to cut stone, of which a plenty lay at hand, and
two half-breed carpenters to execute the wood-work, whilst the Kaffirs
thatched the whole as only they can do. Then he set to work upon a
church, which was placed on the crest of the opposite knoll where the
white man, Ishmael, had appeared on the evening of their arrival. Like
the house, it was excellent of its sort, and when at length it was
finished after more than a year of labour, Mr. Dove felt a proud man.
Indeed at Ramah he was happier than he had ever been since he landed
upon the shores of Africa, for now at length his dream seemed to be in
the way of realisation. Very soon a considerable native village sprang
up around him, peopled almost entirely by remnants of the Natal tribes
whom Chaka had destroyed and who were but too glad to settle under the
aegis of the white man, especially when they discovered how good he
was. Of the doctrines which he preached to them day and night, most of
them, it is true, did not understand much. Still they accepted them as
the price of being allowed “to live in his shadow,” but in the vast
majority of cases they sturdily refused to put away all wives but one,
as he earnestly exhorted them to do.
At first he wished to eject them from the settlement in punishment of
this sin, but when it came to the point they absolutely refused to go,
demonstrating to him that they had as much right to live there as he
had, an argument that he was unable to controvert. So he was obliged to
submit to the presence of this abomination, which he did in the hope
that in time their hard hearts would be softened.
“Continue to preach to us, O Shouter,” they said, “and we will listen.
Mayhap in years to come we shall learn to think as you do. Meanwhile
give us space to consider the point.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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