Two years before my father's death I had occasion to search the country
round for some lost oxen. After a long and useless quest it occurred
to me that I had better go to the place where the oxen were bred by a
Kaffir chief, whose name I forget, but whose kraal was about fifty miles
from our station. There I journeyed, and found the oxen safe at home.
The chief entertained me handsomely, and on the following morning I went
to pay my respects to him before leaving, and was somewhat surprised to
find a collection of some hundreds of men and women sitting round him
anxiously watching the sky in which the thunder-clouds were banking up
in a very ominous way.

"You had better wait, white man," said the chief, "and see the
rain-doctors fight the lightning."

I inquired what he meant, and learned that this man, Indaba-zimbi, had
for some years occupied the position of wizard-in-chief to the tribe,
although he was not a member of it, having been born in the country now
known as Zululand. But a son of the chief's, a man of about thirty,
had lately set up as a rival in supernatural powers. This irritated
Indaba-zimbi beyond measure, and a quarrel ensued between the two
witch-doctors that resulted in a challenge to trial by lightning being
given and accepted. These were the conditions. The rivals must await the
coming of a serious thunderstorm, no ordinary tempest would serve their
turn. Then, carrying assegais in their hands, they must take their stand
within fifty paces of each other upon a certain patch of ground where
the big thunderbolts were observed to strike continually, and by the
exercise of their occult powers and invocations to the lightning, must
strive to avert death from themselves and bring it on their rival. The
terms of this singular match had been arranged a month previously,
but no storm worthy of the occasion had arisen. Now the local