Never was such a father to his people as
Sir George Grey, and the tribes of a hemisphere acclaimed it. The witch
doctor had his doubts, took his physic wryly, and begged piteously to be
set free. He was released, on the strict promise that he would cease
being a firebrand. Not that alone, for he publicly recanted among the
Kaffirs, gathered on a market morning, to their huge amusement and
derision. He made no more trouble, and could not, had he tried, his fame
being ruined.
'A joust of fun like that,' was Sir George Grey's moral from the
incident, 'had a wonderful effect upon natives. It was much better than
shooting the witch doctor, and quite as effective. Even among whites,
ridicule may be a very serious punishment.'
But the Pro-Consul was not always warranted to win, in his encounters of
wit and wisdom. He put to the debit account, a dialogue he had with a
batch of Kaffir chiefs, on the proper employment of their moneys. He
wondered if the wages, earned from native work on the roads, and in
cultivating the lands, were always wisely spent. The broad inquiry was
well enough, as the chiefs took it, but unfortunately Sir George went on
to state a case in proof.
'For instance,' he innocently pleaded, 'is it necessary that so much
should be expended on the jewellery and ornaments of the women? Would
they not really look more handsome, without all those gew-gaws of brass
and metal, which they wear round their arms and ankles?' An aged chief
rose and gravely replied, 'You are a great chief, Governor, and you have
done marvellous things.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94