The Mystery of the “Flying Stones”
(By “Swazi”)
A weird story related by a South African police officer, who, in accordance with Service regulations, wishes his name to be suppressed. The author vouches for his facts, which are further verified by the magistrate who accompanied him on his investigation, while extracts from newspaper reports give further details of this most puzzling affair.
The average reader, whose activities have confined him to an uneventful life in towns, and who is unacquainted with the natives of South Africa, may regard the following account of an odd happening in the course of the writer’s duty with scepticism. All I can say is that I vouch absolutely for the truth of the narrative, but I hesitate to offer any explanation concerning it.
At the time the incidents occurred I was stationed at a village near the centre of Swaziland, in charge of a small police-post. In this position I was continually being brought into contact with various phases of native superstition. The people were child-like in their simple beliefs, and their blind faith in the powers of their witch-doctors was pathetic. These gentry claimed to be able to control the forces of good and evil, and their fees, though usually based on their victim’s ability to pay, were exorbitant enough. I had so often seen the alleged “results” of the wizards’ occult labors exploded in court that I not unnaturally refused to credit the stories of their uncanny powers that superstitious natives were continually telling. I believed the witch-doctors to be cunning rogues, and nothing else.
Then the incident I am about to relate occurred; and after that I was not quite so sure! Just prior to the time when the affair happened a group of natives appeared at the court-house to make a complaint. As officer in charge, it was my duty to investigate, report, and, if necessary, take action. The spokesman was an old headman. I will not set forth his rambling story in detail, but it appeared that a certain Nkunzi, a witch-doctor, had attempted to appropriate some cultivated fields that were lawfully the property of a widow. For some time she resisted his efforts, and at last, in exasperation, he vowed he would set evil spirits to haunt her until her life became impossible. Spite of the dread threat, the woman refused to abandon her gardens, and Nkunzi apparently decided to forfeit his claim, for nothing further was heard of him, nor was he seen at his accustomed kraal. The respite however, was short-lived.
A few days later the widow was stoned by some unknown, and, in the absence of Nkunzi, attributed the assault to spirits. Wherever she went, the headman asserted, stones fell round her; and things had now come to such a pass that the poor creature was compelled to remain indoors. Even there she was not left alone; during the night her clothes were snatched away from her by unseen hands, and although she had made every attempt to catch the culprit she had been unsuccessful. The natives were convinced that witchcraft was at the bottom of the trouble, but as I did not believe in that agency I decided to seek some more tangible cause. Accordingly I dispatched two native constables with instructions to watch carefully in order to ascertain who was responsible for the stone-throwing.
The following day the constables returned and gravely reported that they had actually seen stones falling, but could find no person who threw them. Annoyed that they, too, should have been influenced by the natives’ tales of witchcraft, I determined to investigate myself. I notified my decision to Mr X—, the Resident Justice of the Peace, and he, scenting an adventure, agreed to accompany me. To ensure the capture of the culprit, when discovered, I took with me four native police and stationed them at points of vantage round the kraal where the stone-throwing was said to take place. These men were so placed that they commanded a view of every approach to the hut of the woman concerned. The R.J.P. and myself took up our positions with the group of natives at the kraal. I watched this group carefully, for I felt sure that one of them must be responsible for the scare.
Within a few minutes after I took my post a small stone dropped at my feet. Thereupon I studed my native companions closely, but presently, though I am positive that not one of them lifted a hand, another stone fell in our midst! Pebbles continued to descend in this manner, the strange thing about it being that they sometimes came from the front and sometimes from the rear of me. Calling in the four native police, I learnt that they had seen nobody. My next plan was to institute a close search of the ground surrounding the kraal. We went over it most thoroughly, but at the end of an hour we were beaten. There was not hole or an undulation that we had not explored, and throughout the search stones continued to rain upon or around us, but we could find no clue to the thrower. The missiles were usually small – too small to do any real damage – but the fact that no agency could be found to account for them was decidedly disturbing.
During the better part of the day we tried every scheme that might offer a solution, but eventually I had to admit I was beaten, and we returned to camp without having solved the mystery. The stone throwing continued for several days after our visit and then ceased – but not before the widow had decided to abandon the place! I may add that during my own investigation I had taken the precaution of locating Nkunzi and placing him under observation. His own kraal was some distance away, and I am certain he had no direct hand in the throwing of the stones.
In submitting this account I also attach extracts from the “Star,” a leading Johannesburg newspaper. Reading these in conjunction with my own experience, readers will find themselves faced by a very perplexing problem. The first cutting reads:
Voice (Hobart), 21st Feb 1942.