CHAPTER Vm 



The day after our arrival at the Shangan village being Sunday, I lay by, smoked 

 numerous pipes, sketched, and skinned, while the old man maintained our 

 respectability by sitting in the sun at intervals with his hat off, and singing 

 " the Old Hundredth." Van Staden was always nice, perfectly sincere and 

 simple in all he did, and never more so than when singing his hymns. It was 

 a real pleasure to listen to him ; for though his voice was but feeble, and there 

 was no surpliced choir, odour of incense, or high church dignitary to grace the 

 occasion, the service was one of pure religion, fresh from the old man's heart, and 

 its very simplicity, under these wild surroundings, made it all the more impressive. 

 Oom Roelef, however, was cast in a different mould. Whatever his belief, 

 there was at least no particle of Sabbatarianism in it ; so in the afternoon, when 

 Chele, half drunk, turned up with the young men and boys of the village to the 

 number of about forty, and asked me if I would like to see a dance, I readily 

 consented. The dancers then ranged themselves in three long lines, the smallest 

 boys being in front. There was nothing in the shape of a band ; but to each 

 foot of the dancers was suspended a little grass box, full of mealies, which gave 

 a pleasant rattle as the feet were stamped. And what a dance it was ! No hurry 

 about it, no attempt on anybody's part to outshine a fellow-dancer, no music 

 whatever except the voices of the dancers, singing as they went along a 

 monotonous but not unpleasant chant, the burden of which was " Wa-sing-in-da," 

 the Shangan word for " dance," I am told. To a critical ear the tune might 

 not always be perfect, but the rhythmic mark of the time was beyond reproach ; 

 and for over an hour did these men and boys keep on advancing and retiring, 

 with whirls and twirls innumerable, in the full blaze of the African sun. It 

 was quite a relief when at last they ceased for refreshment, and took it in the 

 shape of snuff (carried by the majority in a Martini cartridge case stuck in the left 

 ear) and " da-ha," the African substitute for opium. 



