R. D. Truly! but God told us differently. He made black men first,
and did not love us as he did the white men. He made you beautiful,
and gave you clothing, and guns, and gunpowder, and horses, and wagons,
and many other things about which we know nothing. But toward us
he had no heart. He gave us nothing except the assegai, and cattle,
and rain-making; and he did not give us hearts like yours.
We never love each other. Other tribes place medicines about our country
to prevent the rain, so that we may be dispersed by hunger, and go to them,
and augment their power. We must dissolve their charms by our medicines.
God has given us one little thing, which you know nothing of.
He has given us the knowledge of certain medicines by which
we can make rain. WE do not despise those things which you possess,
though we are ignorant of them. We don't understand your book,
yet we don't despise it. YOU ought not to despise our little knowledge,
though you are ignorant of it.
M. D. I don't despise what I am ignorant of; I only think you are mistaken
in saying that you have medicines which can influence the rain at all.
R. D. That's just the way people speak when they talk on a subject
of which they have no knowledge. When we first opened our eyes,
we found our forefathers making rain, and we follow in their footsteps.
You, who send to Kuruman for corn, and irrigate your garden,
may do without rain; WE can not manage in that way. If we had no rain,
the cattle would have no pasture, the cows give no milk,
our children become lean and die, our wives run away to other tribes
who do make rain and have corn, and the whole tribe become dispersed and lost;
our fire would go out.
M. D. I quite agree with you as to the value of the rain; but you can not
charm the clouds by medicines. You wait till you see the clouds come,
then you use your medicines, and take the credit which belongs to God only.
R. D. I use my medicines, and you employ yours; we are both doctors,
and doctors are not deceivers. You give a patient medicine. Sometimes God
is pleased to heal him by means of your medicine; sometimes not - he dies.
When he is cured, you take the credit of what God does. I do the same.
Sometimes God grants us rain, sometimes not. When he does,
we take the credit of the charm. When a patient dies,
you don't give up trust in your medicine, neither do I when rain fails.
If you wish me to leave off my medicines, why continue your own?
