Then she lay down upon her bed
of rich furs and at times burst into tears because she who seemed to be a
supernatural queen, was really but a white girl deserted by God and man.
Now it was the season of thunderstorms, and almost every afternoon these
dreadful tempests broke over her kraal, which shook in the roll and crash
of the meeting clouds, while beyond the fence the jagged lightning struck
and struck again upon the ironstone of the hillside.
She had never feared such storms before, but now they terrified her. She
dreaded their advent, and the worst of it was that she must not show her
dread, she who was supposed to rule and direct the lightning. Indeed, the
bounteous rains which fell ensuring a full harvest after several years of
drought, were universally attributed to the good influence of her presence
in the land. In the same way when a thunderbolt struck the hut of a doctor
who but a day or two before had openly declared his disbelief in her
powers, killing him and his principal wife, and destroying his kraal by
fire, the accident was attributed to her vengeance, or to that of the
Heavens, who were angry at this lack of faith. After this remarkable
exhibition of supernatural strength, needless to say, the voice of adverse
criticism was stayed; Rachel became supreme.
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