“It is already happening, Sir George. We, your magistrates, are advancing your policies to the letter,” said Gawler, feigning enthusiasm.
“The strongholds of murder and superstition shall be cleansed,” said Sir George spiritedly, “as the gospel is preached among ignorant and savage men. The ruder languages shall disappear, and the tongue of England alone shall be heard all around. So you see, my friends, this cattle-killing nonsense augurs the dawn of a new era.”
“In the meantime, what do we do about this current emergency?” asked Dalton. “What do we tell the chief commissioner?”
“Who is this man?” Sir George asked, looking at Gawler and pointing at Dalton disdainfully.
“John Dalton, sir,” answered Gawler.
“I know that, but who is he?”
“He is a military veteran of the frontier wars. He is very useful in translating and interpreting the native tongues.”
“I interpreted for you on your last tour of the frontier, Sir George,” said Dalton helpfully.
“Then teach him that being given the privilege of an audience with me is quite different from addressing mobs of natives. He must stop interrupting me.”
“Yes, sir,” said Gawler.
“My apologies, sir,” said Dalton, who then sulked for the rest of that day.
“As for the prophets of Gxarha, why don’t you just arrest them?”
“The chief commissioner fears an uprising,” said Gawler.
“An uprising of people who have been rendered powerless by starvation? An uprising of dying people?”
When the two officers got back home they laid down their plans for the arrest of the prophets. But they were advised by the unbelieving elders to wait until the problems between Chief Nxito and some of his subjects had been sorted out. It seemed that an armed confrontation between the Believers and Unbelievers of Qolorha was imminent. If the prophets were arrested at that time, it would exacerbate the situation.
After Chief Nxito’s return to his chiefdom, rumors were flying around that he had converted and joined the Believers. He, on the other hand, was eager to prove to all his subjects that his supposed conversion was a figment of the Believers’ imagination.
He also wanted to find a way of demonstrating once and for all that the prophecies were false. He demanded that Mhlakaza should display to the chiefs of kwaXhosa those new people he was claiming had already risen from the dead. The prophets of Gxarha played for time, but Nxito was persistent.
Finally Mhlakaza announced that the new people had agreed to show themselves to Chief Nxito. The wizened chief was suspicious. He sent Twin-Twin to reconnoiter the appointed meeting place and make sure that there was no chicanery. Unfortunately, Mhlakaza’s spies discovered Twin-Twin hiding in the donga near the sacred place where the new people were expected to appear just for Nxito’s benefit.
“Nxito has insulted the new people!” screamed Mhlakaza. “He has placed an Unbeliever on their path! How do you expect them to come when their path is obstructed by the evil shadow of an Unbeliever like Twin-Twin? The new people have left in anger for the mouth of the Great Fish River. Nxito must bear all the blame!”
The Believers were fuming. Once more the Unbelievers were responsible for the delay of the rising of the dead. Some questioned Twin-Twin’s intentions. Hadn’t he publicly expressed his desire for the sacred body of Prophetess Nongqawuse? Was he not trying to kill two birds with one stone: putting obstacles in the path of the new people while at the same time waylaying the prophetess on her daily route to commune with the new people at the banks of the Gxarha River?
“You never know with these amaGogotya, these Unbelievers.” That was all Mhlakaza could say. “In any event, the new people have spoken. Nongqawuse says they say they have decided not to rise, because of the appeals that are being made to them by the ancestors of the Unbelievers. The ancestors of the Unbelievers are worried that their descendants will be doomed for disregarding the prophecies. In their infinite compassion the new people still hope that the Unbelievers will change their minds and kill their cattle.”
But King Sarhili was no longer prepared to let Mhlakaza off so easily. He demanded that he should set a definite date for the coming of the new people. The messengers the king had been sending to the Gxarha were coming back with the bad news that no wonders were seen over there. Only those people who wanted to see miracles saw miracles. They were saying that as far as they were concerned the whole story of the new people and new cattle was a deceit.
Small cracks of doubt were opening in the armor of some Believers.
Twin and Qukezwa did not share these doubts. They were among the hungry and the weak who walked the whole day from Qolorha to Butterworth, where more than six thousand believing amaXhosa had already gathered, waiting for the dawn of the new day of miracles and wonders that had been announced by Mhlakaza.
The mood was joyous in Butterworth. At last the resurrection was going to happen. There was very little food but plenty of singing and dancing. Everyone was waiting for the next full moon, which was to fall on 10 January 1857. The moon was going to be blood-red and the dead would arise.
Twin was rather unhappy that none of the prophets could be seen in the joyous crowd. Mhlakaza was not there. Neither were Nongqawuse and Nombanda. Even Nonkosi, the eleven-year-old daughter of Kulwana, who had emerged as a new prophetess at the Mpongo River, was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps her absence could be explained, the people whispered. The new date had not emanated from her denomination.
“Are you beginning to doubt the prophets?” asked Qukezwa.
“No, I do not doubt the prophets,” Twin assured her. “But it would have been nice if they were here to welcome the new people personally.”
“The new people are not coming to Butterworth, Father of Heitsi,” Qukezwa reminded him. “We are merely here to celebrate their arrival at the Gxarha. The prophets insisted that only King Sarhili and his trusted councillors should be on hand to witness their approach to the shores of kwaXhosa, riding on the waves.”
“I know, I know. Those were the instructions of the new people themselves.”
“So you see, all the prophets must be at the Gxarha mouth to welcome the new people.”
Qukezwa and Twin did not know that problems had arisen at the Gxarha mouth. King Sarhili and a group of councillors had ridden down there on the third day of January, only to find that Mhlakaza and Nongqawuse had vanished. They had left a message that the new people had angrily returned to the Otherworld because of the despicable behavior of the unbelieving chiefs. The king and his people should wait for the full moon of February instead.
The king was sad and humiliated. For the first time, he faced criticism from angry crowds. When he tried to address them they heckled him, and the imbhizo ended in chaos. A broken man, he decided to ride back to his Great Place at Hohita. On the way he tried to kill himself with his father’s spear. His councillors stopped him. They were forced to keep a close eye on him and hide all the knives, spears, and other weapons from him.
Yet Twin and thousands of the staunch Believers remained in Butter-worth. Early in February, hope was rekindled. Even the dejected Sarhili gained some courage. There were rumors that the prophecies had already been fulfilled in the land of Moshoeshoe. At the next full moon they would surely be fulfilled in the land of Sarhili. The king rode back to Butterworth to be with the celebrating masses.
The masses were hungry, but they lived on faith.
The prophecies had spoken that during the resurrection the sun would rise late in the morning. It would be red like blood. It would not venture far, but would return to its starting point only to set again. The earth would then be covered in absolute darkness. There would be a raging storm accompanied by thunder and lightning, during which the dead would arise.