QUEEN TZANEEN, MOTHER OF THE CROWN PRINCEQUEEN TZANEEN, MOTHER OF THE CROWN PRINCEShe is wearing a silk wrap presented to her by Dr. O'Neil. Note the hair, which is worked up into this peculiar shape upon marriage
QUEEN TZANEEN WITH SOME ZULU PRINCESSESQUEEN TZANEEN WITH SOME ZULU PRINCESSESThey had arrived to present themselves in marriage to the prince. They are cousins of the queen, as she is a Zulu by birth
UMZULEK, A RESOURCEFUL AND INFLUENTIAL EXILEUMZULEK, A RESOURCEFUL AND INFLUENTIAL EXILEHe is living in a territory set aside for him. On his right is Prince Bilakzi, who is soliciting his assistance for Sebuza in obtaining his throne
The witch-doctor gave some sort of a command, and from behind Buno's hut came ten of the most splendid savages I have ever seen. They were all indunas and wore the full costume of their rank. On their heads were great plumes and each carried his shield, knob-kerrie, and assegai. With steady tramp they passed by their dead king and lined up, facing his body, in front of the fire.
No sooner were they in place than they gave the royal salute. Then they did something I had not seen before. With steady rythmic strokes they beat on their great shields with their knob-kerries. This lasted for only a moment, but it was like the throbbing of a heart—the heart of Swaziland, it seemed to me.
When the hollow roar died, the chief witch-doctor stepped out and made an oration. We could not hear him very plainly. However, I caught a few phrases.
"Indunas, great heroes of Swaziland," he shouted, illustrating his words with extravagant gestures and contortions, "You have been chosen of all our people to die with our king. There is not one present who does not envy you! Tens of thousands are here, and all covet the honor that is yours.
"Buno, our great king, the saviour of Swaziland, hasgone! Great indunas, you would not want to live without your peerless leader—life would mean nothing!"
There was a lot more, but I did not get it. The oration must have lasted a good half hour, the condemned men standing like statues all the while. I did not understand the last remarks of the witch-doctor, but the instant he stopped the royal salute, repeated once, crashed out.
Then the first of the ten indunas stepped out. He raised his shield and knob-kerrie above his head and saluted the dead king. Immediately came the "thunder of the shields." Every warrior in the entire crowd began striking his shield with his knob-kerrie. There was no staccato to the blows—rather a rubbing, pulling stroke that brought each blow out with repeated vibrations. In a few moments a cadence was set up and the strokes came all together at equal intervals. The effect was terrific; the air seemed to pulsate with the vibrations and it seemed to catch me right in the pit of the stomach.
The steady drumming slowly rose in a crescendo, and then the induna turned from the king's body and with one far-flung motion threw his shield and arms into the fire. Next he turned, threw his head back, and faced the body. Slowly and firmly he stepped forward until he stood beside his dead king.
The chief witch-doctor stood a pace or two from him, his right hand holding a great curved knife which gleamed and shimmered in the bright light of the fire. There was a tense moment, made doubly painful bythe steady roar of the beaten shields. I was fascinated. I knew what was coming and dreaded to see it. Yet I found myself powerless to look away; my eyes were riveted on that murderous knife!
Slowly the witch-doctor raised the knife above his head. Then one step forward, a lightning thrust, and the induna came down like a falling tree! He did not stir; there was no convulsive death struggle. The doctor was an efficient butcher.
Each of the others went to his death in exactly the same way. There was no flinching, no hesitation; open-eyed and unafraid these savages went like stoics to their death. The witch-doctor did not bungle; each stroke brought death and there was no need for the services of his assistants who stood ready with stabbing spears.
The next to the last man to die was the brother of the fiercest of my two bodyguards. This was evident from the new energy with which my man beat his shield. If I had not noticed this, his remark after the knife went home would have enlightened me.
"A man! A brave man! A warrior!" he said to his companion in a hoarse, dust-choked voice. "My brother is a brave induna. He is a true son of my mother!"
When the last man was sacrificed, the witch-doctor made another speech. It was about what heroes the ten indunas had been and what a great king they had lost. One sentence I remember.
"So long as warriors are willing to die for Swaziland," he shouted, "our country is safe! So long as ourbest face death without fear, we need not fear the Zulus, Boers, or British. The white men fear death. They can never stand against our impis if our warriors are led by such men as those who died to-night!"
The thought came to me that it was rather foolish to kill indunas, leaders of warriors, in this fashion, but it was the ancient custom and their brave death made for heroism among those who lived. Each kraal to which one of the sacrificed indunas belonged gloried in his death and it became a tradition for the younger warriors to live up to.
The doctor ceased speaking after a little and the crowd began to move away. The king's body was taken back to his hut and the fire allowed to burn low. When we left, which we did as soon as we could, the chief witch-doctor was marching up and down outside the hut and accompanying his steps with a sort of chant.
My most distinct memory of the sacrifice is the sensation I suffered when the drumming of the shields reached its height. I shall never forget this. Every time I hear the bass drum stroked, bringing out all its bass vibrations, memory jerks me back to the unerring slash of the sacrificial knife at Buno's kraal in Lebombo. I know that for months afterward I used to hear those shields in that brief moment between wakefulness and sleep.
Labotsibeni had gone when I reached camp. Oom Tuys was pacing up and down, smoking his great pipe and waiting for me. He gave me a hug when I reached the firelight and seemed quite relieved at seeing me.
"I was worried, you were so long," he said. "Buno's death means trouble in Swaziland, and I was afraid you might have been captured as a hostage or even killed. Tell me, what did you see?"
Then I told him all about the sacrifice. I found myself strangely tired and lay down while I talked. Tuys listened without interruption until I had finished. Then he asked, "Are you sure there were ten indunas sacrificed?"
I told him I was sure, because I had mechanically counted them when they stood before the fire.
"Then I am safe," he replied. "If ten have been killed, there will be no more. Ten is the royal number, and there must not be one more or less. Good!"
Then he told me about Queen Labotsibeni's visit. It seems she had called on "The White King of Swaziland" for his help in a matter of importance to the state. Buno's death had left the throne vacant. Queen Tzaneen could not reign because she was not a native-born Swazi. Her child, if a man, could not become king until he became of age. Hence the throne was vacant, and Labotsibeni wanted Tuys to use his influence to have her recognized as queen by the British and Boers.
"The old lady is right," he said. "She is the only one able to rule Swaziland. Every one knows that she practically ruled as the royal queen of King Umbandine and during Buno's reign she was always the power behind the throne. Most of the time she was not very far behind, either!
"She is very keen. She demanded that I pay the tribute to her in place of Buno! I told her that she could have the gin, but that I could not give her the gold without permission from Oom Paul. She didn't like that very much, but I was able to make her see that I was right. To-morrow I shall take her the gin and she'll have to be satisfied with that.
"I shall recommend that Labotsibeni be appointed regent until the right king is found. Umzulek, I hear, thinks that he ought to succeed Buno, and there is talk that he will take the throne by force. I shall have to prevent that."
Exhausted as I was, I found sleep difficult that night. For some time I lay there listening to Tuys's regular breathing and afraid that he might snore, as he did sometimes. If he had, I know I could not have stood it—each deep note would have started the shields drumming again.
We were up at dawn next morning and never did that first cup of coffee taste so good. Buno was to be buried that day and I hoped to see a ceremony. Before we had breakfasted a score of Labotsibeni's warriors, led by a lesser induna, arrived as our escort for the day. They brought word that Buno would be "taken to the caves when the shadows were least," or at noon. The indunas who had been sacrificed, however, were being buried during the morning. So we decided to attend the funerals.
I was much disappointed. There were no ceremonials.In fact, the most exciting thing that happened was that one of the junior witch-doctors was bitten by a snake and speedily died. The indunas were buried in a tangled patch of brush and tall grass, with a few trees breaking its monotony. This was set apart for indunas only, the plain people being buried anywhere they happened to die. All the important chiefs of Swaziland had been buried there ever since the days of King Umbandine, yet the place was absolutely unkempt and full of snakes.
When we arrived at Buno's kraal, the bodies of the indunas were laid out in a row. Near each stood witch-doctors and warriors. Not far away were a number of women and children. These were the wives of the dead men.
As we came up an order was given and the warriors lifted up the bodies. Each band of pall-bearers was led by a witch-doctor, while the widows and children of each induna fell in behind. There was no wailing or mourning—the women seemed as stoical as their departed husbands had been when they faced the knife on the night before.
All the women had their heads shaved as a sign that their husbands were dead. This is their custom. From her earliest girlhood the Swazi woman trains her hair to grow in a sort of cone or pyramid. When her husband dies the hair is shaved right up to this mound, leaving much of the head bare. The daughters of these widows had their heads entirely shaved. This also isthe custom, so it is quite possible to tell for whom the Swazi women mourn and also how recent is their loss.
Tuys and I followed the procession to the burial ground—"The Place of Indunas," they call it—and saw the simple ceremonies. These only consisted of placing the body in a shallow hole, scratching the dirt over it, and then piling rocks on top.
Beside each grave was placed a pot of corn-meal and some uncooked meat, so that the induna might have food if he should come back. This was the only suggestion of future life. The Swazi is a very primitive savage; he has no hell or heaven and, under normal circumstances, no god. Their only supernatural belief is in a sort of evil spirit or devil. This devil, however, is under the control of the ruler and usually is most active in sending or holding back the rain so necessary to the scanty crops grown by the Swazis.
In connection with this devil it is important to know that Queen Labotsibeni was the "rain-maker" of Swaziland. This gave her great power, since the natives fully believed in her supernatural powers. How she gained this control over the devil is an interesting chapter in Swazi history.
In the old days the Zulu chiefs possessed this rain-making gift, which was supposed to be vested in a small round stone called the "rain stone." When Ama-Swazi led the rebellion against the Zulus and broke away from them, he captured this stone and took it with him. Much of his ascendancy was based on its possession.
Umbandine, his son, inherited the stone, and Queen Labotsibeni promptly annexed it on his death. King Buno never owned it, and during his entire reign his mother provided the rain for Swaziland.
Labotsibeni was wise in her way and made the "rain stone" a source of revenue. Now and then dry spells strike Swaziland, and the hot sun burns up the crops and causes much suffering. At such a time the indunas came to the old queen and begged her to make rain. She always went through some incantation before assenting, and then announced her price. It was usually a portion of corn from each kraal, the total amounting to many bushels. When this was paid, she agreed to make rain. It is peculiar that she was often successful and that rain followed shortly after her promise.
If, however, the rain did not come, she would announce that one of her chiefs was plotting against her and that she had surrendered the rule of the weather to the devil so that he might punish her people. On such occasions her wrath was terrible, and this is probably one of the reasons why she was so feared. Tuys told me that Labotsibeni in a rage was a "perfect she-devil" and that even her indunas would run to avoid her. She was a wise old queen; no matter how the weather acted, she had it arranged so that she could not lose!
On the way out of the indunas' burying-ground, the witch-doctor stepped on a snake. We came up to him as he sat waiting for death, the body of the adder beside him with its head crushed. He rocked slowly back andforth, looking straight ahead and making no sound. I wanted to do something for him.
"What's the use, lad?" Tuys said. "There is no cure for the puff-adder's bite, unless you have a drug-shop along. He must die, and die soon, and he knows it. Come on, unless you want to see him go?"
I most certainly did not, so we went along, keeping our eyes on the ground lest we run afoul of a snake. I looked back a moment later and saw that the stricken man had laid down, and then I knew that his suffering would soon be over. None of the other natives seemed to give a second thought to him; under Buno's rule they had grown more callous than ever.
It was almost noon when we reached Buno's kraal, and there was a large gathering of witch-doctors about his hut. The witch-doctors of our burial-party joined them, and Tuys informed me that practically all the witch-doctors in Swaziland were there.
"Now would be a good time for some target practice," he said grimly. "In about five minutes a few quick shots could remove most of the sources of trouble in this country. If those witch-doctors were all killed, Swaziland would be a happier land."
Soon the head witch-doctor—the one who did the butchering so well the night before—detached himself from the group and began to look at the sun. He stood his wand on the ground and studied its shadow. After a time this seemed to satisfy him, and he sent two of the others out of the kraal on the run. Shortly after camethe sound of many feet, and soon the royal impi filed into the enclosure. The warriors ranged themselves on either side of the pathway, just as I had so often seen them do before.
When they were in place the chief doctor went into Buno's hut. Out he came a few minutes later, with six others carrying the body of the king. As they swung it to their shoulders the impi saluted. After the third thud of stamping feet the chief doctor started down the lane of warriors. Behind him came those bearing the body, with the other doctors following them. Last of all came a number of unarmed men carrying fresh-killed beef, corn, and pots of tswala.
This was the king's funeral cortège proper. When it reached the end of the impi, the warriors turned and followed in marching order, acting as escort. Tuys and I dropped in behind. I was very curious to see "the caves" where Buno was to be buried. As we followed the slow procession, Tuys told me about them.
"No white man has ever entered these caves," he said. "They are a little distance up the mountain and are said to be immense. The witch-doctors are the only natives who ever enter them, and they tell queer tales about what goes on. They say that there are rivers and smoke and bright lights in some of the caves. I don't believe this, of course, but they say it. I think that the mystery of the caves is part of the foolishness practiced by these witch-doctors and is only trumped up to keep the people away. Not long ago when I asked a witch-doctorif he would show me King Umbandine's grave in the caves, he pretended to be much frightened and told me that the devil lived in the caves and would be angry if a white man entered them.
"Only the kings of Swaziland are buried in the caves. Ama-Swazi was the first. His body was brought up from his kraal in the low country. Umbandine is there, and now Buno is going to join them. I suppose Labotsibeni will have the honor when she dies, although it is quite likely that the witch-doctors will refuse to allow a woman to be buried there."
The caves were about four miles from the royal kraal at Lebombo and much of the trail was uphill. We reached them in about an hour, and I saw that there were a number of entrances, all fissures in the rocks.
The procession stopped and the bearers were relieved by six others. The change was made without laying the king's body on the ground. This was in accordance with the ancient customs—a king's body must not touch the ground from the time it starts on its last trek until it is laid at rest in the caves.
The new bearers faced about and raised the body high above their heads. While they held it there the royal impi gave their dead king his last salute. Then the witch-doctors took the food from the unarmed men and a moment later the entire band of "priests" disappeared among the rocks. That was the last of Buno, rightly called "The Terrible," the most powerful and cruel king Swaziland has ever had. The impi turned and starteddown the trail at a smart pace, leaving Tuys and me behind. These great warriors seemed glad that the funeral was over. They swung by us with light steps, many of them grinning at the white men as they went by.
Now I was very curious to know what was inside the caves. There was so much mystery about them that it fired my youthful imagination. I spoke of this to Tuys and was pleased to find that he also was curious.
"Yes, I'd like to have a look at them," he said. "Buno and Labotsibeni have told me some queer yarns about them, and they are the one thing in Swaziland that I am not familiar with. Let's see if we can't get into them."
The witch-doctors had not come out yet, and we decided to wait until they did. I suggested that they were engaged in some ceremony, but Tuys, knowing the native, would not agree with me.
"Those humbugs are probably eating the food and drinking the good beer," he said, with a snort of disgust. "I'd hate to believe that they'd let it go to waste. I'll bet that Buno will go hungry if he comes back!"
Expecting that they would soon come out, we hid behind some rocks, feeling sure that they would think we had gone back with the impi. Our guess was good. In a little while we saw them tramping down the trail. As soon as they passed the bend from beyond which the entrances to the caves could not be seen, we started on our exploration.
There seemed to be any number of ways into these mysterious caves. However, Tuys's training led him to follow the footprints of the witch-doctors. They must have come out by another route, for all the prints faced inward.
Tuys led, and I noticed that he was carrying his revolver in his hand, ready for instant use. We passed between a number of great rocks, all of which seemed to be split by some terrific force. But we did not go far. There came a sharp turn to the right, and straight in front of us was the entrance to the caves. In front of it stood six witch-doctors with assegais drawn back, ready to strike!
Tuys did not hesitate long enough to take one breath. He wheeled in his tracks and we turned back. We did not run or make unseemly haste, but we certainly moved faster than we had come in. When we reached the outside, Tuys made but one remark.
"Serves us right!" he exclaimed. "I ought to have had sense enough to count those witch-doctors."
I remember that it was a hot walk back to our camp. Probably our chagrin added to the temperature.
To this day no white man has penetrated the caves. I hope to do so the next time I visit Swaziland. I never had a chance on my subsequent visits, but I shall certainly find a way the next time. The thought is fascinating, but I suppose I shall be disappointed if I ever do explore this royal burial-place. Like most things in life, it will fail to come up to expectations.
Not long after we reached our camp several indunas and a small band of warriors called on Tuys. They were part of the bodyguard of Labotsibeni and had come on a special errand.
"Nkoos, White King," the chief induna began with much ceremony, "the great Queen Labotsibeni sends me to you with a message. Even now she, the mother of Buno, waits your answer."
I was interested to see that he spoke of Buno as though that cruel ruler still lived. The thought came to me that his infamy would keep him alive for some time, at least in the memories of those who had witnessed any of his bloody pastimes.
Tuys did not seem to understand what the induna was driving at, and he asked several questions. The chief said that the old queen had instructed him to ask Tuys if her "white brother" did not remember his promise. She was waiting for him to fulfil what he had said he would do. There was some more palaver, and then Tuys suddenly woke up.
"Why, the old girl wants her gin!" he said, laughing. Then he got out four small cases of it and presented them to the induna.
"I'd go along with him," Tuys said to me in Dutch, "if I was not afraid that I'd have to lie to the old queen. She wants the job of ruling Swaziland until the question of the new king is decided, and she expects me to get the British to acknowledge her as regent. I don't knowwhat I'll be able to do, and if I promise that she will get the job, and she doesn't get it, I'll be in a fine pickle! I think I'll avoid her, and we'd better get going to-night and make a break for Rietvlei."
SWAZI WARRIORS AND WOMEN DANCINGSWAZI WARRIORS AND WOMEN DANCINGThe ceremonies were held when Dr. O'Neil and his companions were inducted into the royal impi
PRINCESSES OF ROYAL BIRTHPRINCESSES OF ROYAL BIRTHThe fourth from the left is a sister to Crown Prince Sebuza. They are all dressed up in gaudy colors—clothes which we had presented them
Sibijaan's sportiveness almost costs his life—How Tuys became the friend of Buno—Labotsibeni endorsed as regent of Swaziland—Umzulek plots to seize the throne—The Boers invade Swaziland—Tuys dictates peace between the queens—Umzulek gets his lesson.
Sibijaan's sportiveness almost costs his life—How Tuys became the friend of Buno—Labotsibeni endorsed as regent of Swaziland—Umzulek plots to seize the throne—The Boers invade Swaziland—Tuys dictates peace between the queens—Umzulek gets his lesson.
The midday siesta period was about over and the kraals were beginning to show signs of life again. The native women were going about their domestic duties and the men, as usual, were resting in the shade and furbishing their weapons. Our activity in breaking camp did not attract much attention, except on the part of the usual number of small boys, and before long we were on the trail to the Valley of Heaven. We only traveled about half as fast as we had come in and were constantly being held up by crowds going in the same direction. Thousands upon thousands had come to see the sacrifice of the ten indunas and were now returning to their homes.
Sibijaan nearly got us into a pretty row shortly before we struck the valley. He was driving the wagon with its four mules, and began to get impatient over the crowded roadway. He got careless with his sjambok and flicked a tall Swazi warrior on a naked but important part of his anatomy. Now the sjambok cuts like a knife, and the savage gave a tremendous jump. In fact, he seemed to me to jump twice—once straight upin the air and the second time toward the wagon, brandishing his assegai and shouting.
Sibijaan dived into the wagon under the cover, and the enraged induna dashed round to the rear of the vehicle in the hope that its driver was trying to escape that way. Then ensued a sort of merry-go-round, the induna dashing madly from front to back of the wagon and Sibijaan trying to keep one guess ahead of him. Both were yelling, and Tuys and I hurried to stop the trouble. However, we were too late! The induna suddenly stopped at the side of the wagon where he could watch the front, his spear poised for murder. He was the cat watching the rat-hole, the hunter awaiting his prey.
Tuys snatched his revolver from its holster and was just aiming at the savage when we saw the flap of the wagon-cover lifted just a little and a thin arm come out. In the hand was a short knob-kerrie, and it caught the irate chief on the back of the head with one fell sweep. Down he came with a crash, his shield thudding as it hit the ground.
A second later Sibijaan hopped out of the wagon, knife in hand, evidently intending to finish the job. Tuys reached down from his horse and swung the little beggar up before him, where he gave him a good spanking. That was the end of the incident, since the induna found himself looking into the business end of Tuys's revolver when he woke up from his trance.
Late that evening we camped in the Valley of Heaven.We passed several kraals in our leisurely progress and talked with some of the indunas. None of them seemed very sorry that Buno was gone, but there was a general expression of anxiety concerning the next ruler. Most of them thought that Labotsibeni should get the job, but not a few favored Umzulek—in fact, there seemed to be quite a strong Umzulek sentiment.
During our next day's trek I asked Oom Tuys how it happened that he and Buno were such good friends. Tuys explained that he had originally befriended Buno and the Swazis because the Boers wanted the Swazis as a sort of bulwark against the British. On several occasions Tuys had been able to save land for Buno when certain of the English had tried to get it away from him, and this had made the savage his good friend for life. Incidentally, it helped the Boer cause.
"The one great thing I did for Buno," Tuys went on, "was about two years ago when Oom Paul decided to discipline him. One of my bodyguard had talked too much in Pretoria and the President had learned about the bloody atrocities Buno was committing. It seems the story that really outraged Oom Paul's feelings was one about Buno having some young girls cut open.
"Oom Paul sent for me and asked me about this. Naturally, I knew nothing about it. How could I? If I'd seen it, it was my duty to report it, wasn't it? If I hadn't seen it, how could I know anything about it? Of course I couldn't tell Oom Paul that Buno and I had an important business deal on at that time, could I?
"Somehow or other I don't think Oom Paul believed me. He sent word to Buno that he must behave and stop killing people, and Buno sent word back that Paul had better mind his own business, or words to that general effect. The fool thought that I would protect him and that he could get cheeky with Oom Paul!
"Well, the old man had had enough of Buno's nonsense and he sent a command of about five thousand men into Swaziland to smash him. Instead of leaving me out of it, our cunning President sent me along as second-in-command. I was the guide and all that sort of thing, and had to practically assure Buno's getting jolly well licked, if not killed. After some days we got to within twenty miles of Lebombo and planned to attack the royal kraal at dawn next morning.
"I did not like the idea of Buno being captured, because I knew that would be the end of him. Oom Paul was not in the mood to stand further nonsense. That night I was in command of the sentries, and shortly after dark I placed my sergeant in charge and sneaked off to the kraal of a chief who lived near where we were camped. He knew me, and from him I got a good horse. Then I rode like the devil to Lebombo and warned Buno what was going to happen.
"I got back to our camp just as the commando was saddling up to move to the attack. We rode hard and reached the kraal about four o'clock—to find the entire place empty. There wasn't a single Swazi there! The king and all his warriors had flown. So we were orderedto pursue him, and I led the way. Later I learned that we had gone in exactly the wrong direction, so Buno escaped.
"Oom Paul decided that Buno had learned his lesson and would behave thereafter, since he had been shown that the Boers would come and get him if he did not. However, Buno felt that I would always pull him out of any hole he might get into, so the lesson was lost on him. One thing Oom Paul did accomplish, however, and that was to make Buno realize what a good friend I was!"
My mother was very glad to see us when we reached Rietvlei. Father had returned, and he spoke sharply to Tuys for taking me with him on so dangerous a trip. Tuys told him that he had Buno's word for our safety, but that did not much impress my father.
"The word of a kaffir is good so long as he remembers," he said, "but you know that the best of them are children, and children forget. It was lucky you came out as soon as you did. From what you have told me and from what I've heard conditions are likely to be bad in Swaziland until the government selects a ruler."
Tuys and he then began discussing what should be done about this. Father, I found, knew all about the politics of Swaziland, and he agreed with Tuys that the old queen was the right person to rule until a king was set up. Their talk ended with my father writing a letter for Tuys to take to Oom Paul. He recommended thatLabotsibeni be recognized as regent for the time being, or until Queen Tzaneen's child was born. If the child was a boy, he would be the next king of Swaziland; if a girl, arrangements would have to be made for one of Buno's brothers to take the throne.
Buno had a number of brothers, among whom were Lomwazi, Umzulek, Debeseembie, and one other whose name I have forgotten but who was known as a drunkard and a generally disreputable character.
Oom Tuys left next morning to report conditions to Oom Paul, and we heard nothing for several months. Finally, on the new moon, about three months later, messengers came to Rietvlei from Queen Labotsibeni. Tuys was with us, having arrived several days before.
After the usual salutes and other ceremonial the head induna spoke:
"Nkoos, the queen mother sends to you in her trouble. Her son, the late King Buno, gave you guardianship over Swaziland and Queen Labotsibeni wants your counsel. Even now Queen Tzaneen, the royal widow, gives birth. We do not yet know whether it will be a man-child or not. Umzulek plots to take the throne by force and is mustering his impis. Thousands are flocking to his support and the impis of the queens are gathering at Zombode. If you do not come quickly, there will be war in our country. Queen Labotsibeni prays that you come and prevent war."
This was the situation that father and Tuys had feared. Tuys had his orders from Oom Paul and knewwhat he was to do. He told the induna what to expect.
"Tell your queen," he said, "that I am coming within three days with a great army of white men. Tell her that I shall see that the throne is preserved to the dynasty and that none except the one to whom it rightfully belongs shall become king of Swaziland."
With this message the induna withdrew, and we saw him and his men leaving at top speed to carry these words of cheer to Labotsibeni. Then came a hurried mobilization of all the fighting Boers within a day's ride of Rietvlei. Word was sent far and wide over the veldt—to the outlying farms, to the small towns, to Belfast, and to every place where men might be found.
Within three days the Valley of Reeds became an armed camp. There were more than a thousand well armed, hard-riding Boers waiting for the word to trek into Swaziland. These people of ours were a hardy lot. There were men of sixty and even seventy years, and mixed in with them were their sons and grandsons, many of the latter being boys of sixteen and seventeen. All, however, were well armed and serious. They were on a serious business and stood ready to die in the service of their great leader, Oom Paul.
At dawn on the fourth day we started. From the very beginning it was a hard ride. The burghers rode in what was practically military formation, two by two, with Tuys leading. I went along as his aide and rode as close to him as the trails would permit. I have often thought of that trek. The feeling between Boers andBritish was getting more bitter every day, and these Boer farmers were really taking a training march for the dark days that were to come so soon. It was a heartening sight to look back on our cavalcade and see the great hats bobbing up and down, the lean, wiry ponies, the ready rifles, and the grim faces, most of them bearded.
We took no natives with us. Our food was biltong and rusks, and each man carried enough to last him for two weeks. Every Boer took care of his own horse and did everything for himself. It was felt that there might be trouble, and Tuys never trusted the kaffirs in a tight place.
During the morning of the second day's trek, not long after we had passed the Vaal River, we were met by several indunas and a small impi. They stood in the middle of the roadway making peace signs, and Tuys brought our little army to a halt. Then he and I rode forward and waited.
The chief induna came to meet us. I recognized him as one of those whom I had seen in Queen Tzaneen's train and knew that he came from her.
"Nkoos, Queen Tzaneen sent me to you," he said to Tuys, with all humility. "Yesterday she gave birth to a prince, the rightful heir to the throne! She sends you the message that she is afraid that Umzulek will kill her son. Even now she is afraid to leave Lebombo. Also, Queen Tzaneen asks that you protect her fromQueen Labotsibeni and prevent the queen mother from seizing the throne."
Tuys listened to his message and then asked what was really going on in Swaziland. The induna told him that Umzulek had gathered his impis together and it was rumored that he would take the throne by force. Queen Labotsibeni had gathered all her warriors, and it was understood that she would fight to keep Umzulek from becoming ruler. Queen Tzaneen, on her side, had mustered all the men who remained faithful to the memory of King Buno, and it was said that she would take the throne if she could muster enough force to do it. Taking it all in all, the stage was set for a bloody civil strife in Swaziland.
"It looks as though we had work ahead," Tuys said to me in Dutch, after the induna had related these events. "Well, we have our job to do and the sooner we get it over the better."
Then he turned to the induna.
"Tell your queen that we have heard the story and will take care of her," he directed him. Tuys then gave the word to continue our march.
Unlike all other armies, our little force was truly democratic and every man was entitled to know what out task was to be. Tuys sent for several of the leaders, men who headed the commandos of their districts, and told them about the political situation in Swaziland.
"Oom Paul's orders are that we must secure the throne for the rightful heir," he said. "Labotsibeni mustbe appointed regent until the new prince comes of age, and it is our job to pacify the people and prevent war. If, however, war there must be, we shall strike first and strike hard! We must remember that death is the only argument that a kaffir understands and must make a clean job of it."
I understood what a "clean job" meant—that every native, chief or plain warrior, who did not like the conditions Tuys laid down was to be killed. It began to look as though we should have some hard fighting and our devoted band of about a thousand would find themselves pitted against great odds.
We pushed our horses to their limit and made splendid time. The Boer pony or veldt-bred horse is almost tireless, and our mounts were extended to the utmost. The result was that we reached Zombode early next morning.
When we came in sight of the kraals our cavalry was deployed in a double rank about five hundred horses wide. We trotted to the kraals in this formation, every man with his rifle on his hip, ready for anything. When we had halted, Tuys acknowledged the indunas that had come out to meet him. There was no formality about Tuys this time. He represented the Boer Government and was there as conqueror to lay down the law. The indunas noted the difference, and I could see the sullen glint in their eyes as they took their orders from him.
"Tell Queen Labotsibeni that I am here," Tuys directed."I shall wait for her only a short time and she had better come as quickly as she can."
Without a word the indunas hastened into the royal kraal, while we loosened up a bit and let our horses breathe. The Boer knows how to take care of his mount, and here and there could be seen men arranging their girths and making their ponies more comfortable.
In the very shortest time Queen Labotsibeni came out of her kraal, attended by Lomwazi, her indunas, and a number of warriors. The second they came in sight every man of our force was back again in his saddle, his rifle at the ready. The old queen walked slowly and seemingly with difficulty. She was very tall and quite fat, but carried herself with pride. As always, she was scrupulously clean, her black face shining in the early morning sun.
Labotsibeni came to a halt about twenty feet in front of Tuys and me, and her bodyguard ranged themselves on either side of her. They were picked men and as fine figures of savages as was their old queen. Tuys let her wait for a moment and then got off his horse, motioning to me to join him. We stepped forward, and this time Tuys did not shake hands when greeting her.
"Nkosikaas, I have heard what is going on in Swaziland," he said, simply but very severely, "and I have come with my army to see that justice is done. I come from Oom Paul, our great king, and he has authorized me to do as I see fit.
"My order to you is that to-morrow you meet me atthe little river which lies between Zombode and Lebombo. You will be there as soon as the sun shines on the water. There will be a conference and the peace of Swaziland will be assured. I have spoken!"
Labotsibeni was a proud old woman and did not seem to like to have to take orders in this fashion. She looked at Tuys for a moment in a very indignant way, but dropped her eyes when they met his. She started to speak, and I could see that she had a lot to say, too. Tuys's glance cowed her, however, and after a moment of ground-searching her eyes ran up and down the ranks of our determined army.
A moment later she gave in.
"Nkoos, I shall be there," she said, quite humbly. Then she gave a sign to her indunas and warriors, and all together they gave Tuys the royal salute. This ended the interview. Without another word Tuys shouted the command for us to march, and we started for Lebombo.
Our only stop was to water the horses at the little river Tuys had mentioned, and then we pressed on to Lebombo, arriving at the kraals in the same formation as before. Evidently the word had gone ahead that we were coming, for three full impis, or about three thousand warriors, were lined up waiting for us.
As soon as we came close they gave us the salute, showing that they were not arrayed for hostile purposes. Had they been, they would have stood a poor chance, for our little army would have wiped them out in shortorder. As before, a number of indunas came out to meet us and Tuys repeated his program.
"I am the law and this is my order," he said. "Tell Queen Tzaneen I am here and wait for her to come to me."
There was no hesitation on the part of the indunas. The natives have an extraordinary method of getting word to one another, and they knew that Tuys came on a far different mission than usual. The indunas bowed their heads submissively, and a short time after accompanied Tzaneen to our presence.
However, she was inclined to be a little haughty and carried herself proudly. Tuys hardly looked at her. She, like Labotsibeni, was a finely-built savage, but not so fat as the old queen. Her hair had grown out to quite a length, showing that Buno had been dead for some months.
Tuys gave her the same orders as he had given Labotsibeni, and she agreed to meet him at the river. Then Tuys asked for Umzulek.
"Umzulek is at his kraal half a day's trek from here," she informed him. "He has gathered his impis there and threatens to make war unless he is made king. Also, word has come that he will kill my child, the infant Prince Sebuza, so that none shall stand in his way."
"Your son, Nkosikaas, widow of Buno, shall be safe," Tuys assured her. "You will send a messenger to Umzulek bidding him to attend our conference at the little river. That is my order!"
And so Tuys arranged the conference at which the future peace of Swaziland was to be secured. We rode easily back to the little stream and there made our camp. It was the middle of the day when we unsaddled and, except for those on guard, we all went to sleep.
Late that afternoon Tuys called a council of the commando leaders and prepared for next morning. That night we doubled our guards and I stood watch for several hours. It was the first time I had ever done this and it was a wonderful experience. The bright moon picked out every object on the little plateau and the stream seemed to be a streak of rippling silver. Our camp was on a small kopje, or hill, with the river at its base, and with the first streaks of dawn we awoke our men.
It was none too soon. By the time it was fully light we could see thousands of warriors coming from either direction. These were the impis of the two queens. Our men, mounted and ready, formed a double line around the top of the hill and waited. The impis came closer and stopped on either side of the stream. They were only about a hundred yards apart, and the thought came to me that here was the setting for a fine battle. This, however, it was our duty to prevent.
Soon Tuys sent me, with a bodyguard, to give his orders to the indunas who stood resting on their shields in front of each army. These orders were simple. I told them that their queen was to come to the conference immediately and that each should bring only her bodyguardwith her. In a short time Tzaneen and Labotsibeni arrived and were seated facing Tuys and a number of the commando leaders.
There was no formality about the business whatever. The first question Tuys asked was as to the whereabouts of Umzulek.
"He sent my messengers back in haste," Tzaneen reported, "to say that he was very sick and could not come. When my induna said to him that it was an order, he threatened to kill him, and so he came back without further delay."
I could see that this annoyed Tuys. He ran his hand through his beard in an aggravated fashion and then spoke:
"Umzulek lies," he said decisively, "but he also prophesies! He will be very sick. Perhaps he will be so sick that he will die, if I go to see him. He will find that I am a bad witch-doctor and will know that it is not good to refuse an order!"
Then Tuys delivered his ultimatum, and it was the arrangement by which peace was preserved in Swaziland for nearly a score of years. It was a striking scene. Each of the queens sat in front of her bodyguard, while behind Tuys stood the keen-eyed Boer leaders. Except for their plumes and colored trappings, the armies of the two queens almost blended into the barren brown veldt. Over all was the crystal-clear sky of South Africa, with the bright sun throwing clean-cut shadows. The rocky hills that surrounded the little plateau seemed to formthe irregular walls of an amphitheater, with our council hill in the center.
Tuys first addressed Queen Tzaneen.
"Nkosikaas, your son, the Prince Sebuza," he said, "is the son of Buno, the grandson of Umbandine and the lineal descendant of Ama-Swazi. Sebuza is the rightful heir to the throne and shall be king of Swaziland."
Tzaneen threw her head back and glanced triumphantly at the old queen, who was watching Tuys with deep concern.
"And you, Queen Labotsibeni, mother of Buno and grandmother of the infant Prince Sebuza," Tuys said, turning to her, "shall govern as queen regent until Sebuza is a man and fit to become king."
Labotsibeni straightened up and a smile lighted up her hard, old face. However, I noticed that she did not even look at Tzaneen.
"Those are the orders of him who Buno made guardian of Swaziland," Tuys said, talking to both, "and Oom Paul, the great induna of the Boers, has placed thousands of white warriors at his command to see that these orders are obeyed."
Tuys then asked each queen if she would obey, and both promised they would. He told them that he would come with a great army and take their country away from them if he heard that they had broken their promises in the slightest degree. This was the end of the conference.
In this way the Boer Government recognized Labotsibeni as the regent of Swaziland until the proper time for Sebuza to become king and thus showed the way for a peace which lasted nearly twenty years. Shortly afterward the British also agreed to this arrangement, and it is said that they did so after talking the matter over with Oom Paul and Tuys.
However, this was not the end of our job. Umzulek had to be reckoned with. If he was not taught his lesson, it was quite likely that he would continue making trouble and sooner or later bring on a civil war. When the two queens had gone, Tuys called into conference the commando leaders and arranged a plan for Umzulek's benefit.
Because he knew that some of Umzulek's men were undoubtedly watching us, we made a feint of starting for home late that afternoon. We camped in the Valley of Heaven, as though intending to return to Rietvlei. The kaffirs at the kraal near which we camped were told that we expected to reach the Valley of Reeds in about three days, and they undoubtedly passed the information on to Umzulek's scouts.
Not long after midnight we were in the saddle and on our way to Umzulek's kraal. Tuys knows Swaziland as well as he knows the Transvaal, and we went by a route that did not take us near either Zombode or Lebombo.
When Umzulek's warriors came out of their kraals at Stegla shortly after dawn they rubbed their eyes in amazement to see us drawn up in battle array on twosides of their village. Our men were so posted that they could rake the kraals with rifle fire and not one kaffir would be able to escape.
There was great activity in the kraals when Umzulek's men found out what had happened. In a little while several made attempts to get away in the direction of the hills, sneaking out from the unguarded sides of the kraals. They did not get far. Burghers on fleet ponies turned them back, and there were no further attempts to escape.
Tuys knows how to handle natives. He knows that they are more terrified when they do not know what is going to happen than they are of an actual calamity. For that reason he made no move to declare himself. All that Umzulek's warriors knew was that they were surrounded by a band of determined white horsemen with rifles ready for action. I saw hundreds watching us with apprehension, and there was almost a panic in the village.
Finally some indunas came forward, waving their shields and making all sorts of peaceful overtures. Tuys was rough with them. He commanded that Umzulek be brought before him without delay and said that his men would open fire within a few minutes if he did not come. The indunas fled into the main kraal with the orders, and Umzulek came out with almost unseemly haste.
He was a masterful-looking savage. Much like Buno in the face, he was not so tall, but seemed stouter. His body was huge, his legs massive, and his fine head andbulging forehead showed the cunning and brains for which he was noted. Except for a short assegai, Umzulek was unarmed and wore nothing, not even a loin-cloth or plumes.
He came directly to Tuys and threw up his hands in salute. There was nothing cringing about him, in spite of the fact that he was trapped.
"Nkoos, you have sent for me?" he asked, his voice sonorous and heavy. I noticed that he looked into Tuys's eyes without flinching. He was not even nervous.
"I sent for you yesterday," Tuys answered slowly and severely, "and you sent back the foolish word that you were sick. You disobeyed my orders. For that your life is forfeited! Shall I give the word that means death, or will you listen and obey the order I now give?"
Umzulek showed no fear. He met Tuys's eyes without a tremor.
"Nkoos, white brother of my brother, Buno," he replied after a moment, "do your will! I am not afraid of death. If I live, however, I shall obey your orders."
Tuys then became very angry and talked to Umzulek as roughly as he could. In spite of this, the savage chief never lowered his eyes, although he promised obedience. Tuys ended by telling him what he must do to avoid trouble in the future. Previously he had informed him of the arrangement by which Swaziland was to be governed.
"You will remain here at your kraal from now on," Tuys told him, "and shall never go to Lebombo or Zombode without my permission. You must not concern yourself with the government of your country and must keep peace here in your own district. If I hear that you have broken your promise in the slightest degree, I shall come with a great army and kill you and all your people!"
Umzulek admitted that he understood this plain speaking, and the interview ended with his curt dismissal. Even then, beaten as he was, he returned to his kraal with his head up and dignity unruffled. I had a feeling that he would keep his word, and he did until years later, when Tuys sent for him to assist in saving the throne for Sebuza, who, by the way, was his nephew.
The return trip to Rietvlei was made by easy stages. Our horses were pretty tired and they were allowed to rest as much as possible. There was a general feeling of relief among the burghers, although some of the younger ones did not hesitate to regret that there had been no fighting. They expressed the opinion that it would have taught the Swazis a lesson they would long remember if an impi or two had been wiped out. Tuys made one significant remark to me as we came in sight of Rietvlei.
"With Labotsibeni on the throne for the next twenty years," he said, "I'm afraid that the tribute will cease. Oom Paul will save two thousand pounds a month and I expect that I won't make so many visits to Lebombo.Labotsibeni must behave herself, and it looks to me as though I won't have so much business in Swaziland as I have had."
He was thinking of the wrestling matches with Buno and mentally regretting the fact that his big pockets would no longer bulge with gold. However, Tuys had done rather well; public report had it that these tussles gave him the start toward his fortune.
War with England—Siege of Belfast—Our boyish impi attacks the British—Ghosts defeat us—Jafta's friendship—English troopers do the "sporting thing"—Umzulek still planning deviltry—Death of Klaas, our jockey—Father sends me away to get an education.
War with England—Siege of Belfast—Our boyish impi attacks the British—Ghosts defeat us—Jafta's friendship—English troopers do the "sporting thing"—Umzulek still planning deviltry—Death of Klaas, our jockey—Father sends me away to get an education.
As soon as we reached Rietvlei my father and Tuys closeted themselves in his office. Mother told me that there was trouble between the British and Boers and that my father had received certain orders from Oom Paul Kruger. None of our little army had left Rietvlei when Tuys came out of the house and summoned its leaders.
"You are all to go to your homes," he said, "and there wait for orders. There is serious trouble with the English and Oom Paul commands that all stand ready for whatever may come. God grant that this is not war."
There seemed to be a divided sentiment about this. Some of the leaders, particularly the younger ones, did not appear to dislike the thought of war, but the old men drew long faces and looked very grave. However, they all mounted and before long the last had left. I did not realize then that I would never see them all again. The shadow of war was over the land and many of our troop were later killed.
A short time after our return from Swaziland word reached my father from President Kruger that he wasto visit the leading Boers of our district and get their opinion regarding the suggested war with England. War was practically inevitable at that time and my father found the sentiment almost overwhelmingly in favor of it. He counselled against fighting England, because he knew of the unlimited resources of the empire and how impossible it would be for us to win. Knowing my father's astuteness, the old Boers listened to him and were almost won over to peace, but just then word came that war had been declared.
Immediately the whole country blazed up. Every farm and settlement sent its men, all mounted and armed with the best Mausers and hunting rifles, and in a trice the Transvaal and Orange Free State were on the war-path.
It was our misfortune that the British broke into our part of the Transvaal first. When we heard they were coming, we took everything of value and moved to Belfast, which had been fortified and where we were prepared to stand a siege. I shall never forget the excitement of those days. My mother was in delicate condition and the whole thing was a terrible hardship for her. For me, and for the rest of us boys, it was a great and glorious lark!
The air was filled with stories of battles, and before long streams of wounded men were sent from our field forces to the improvised hospitals in Belfast. We boys used to watch these caravans with intense interest and would run errands for the wounded and bring thempresents. These farmer-soldiers were our heroes, and we were proud of the saying, "For each Boer, five Englishmen," this being the ratio our fighters claimed was about right.
However, it was not long before we began to find the British could not be stopped and one morning, late in 1899, Belfast was besieged by forces under General Paul Carew. We suffered many hardships and I soon realized that war was a grim and earnest business. My mother would pray continually that our peril in Belfast be ended either by victory of our troops or their speedy surrender to the British. She made the vow that her unborn child should bear the name of the victorious general, and when, on the eve of the triumphant entry of the British into Belfast, a little daughter was born, she was given the name of Paul Carew, with the prefix "Impi," which, in addition to meaning a regiment, is also the Zulu word for war.
My sister, Impi, certainly lives up to her name. Determination and fighting spirit are her chief characteristics, and she is equally at home in handling wild horses or obstinate kaffirs. In addition, she is one of the best rifle shots in the Transvaal and can beat any one of her sex when it comes to a race on foot.
General Carew constituted Belfast a British base, and the countryside was raided and ravaged by the troops making it their headquarters. Hardly a farm escaped, and even to-day there are ruins that recall those dark days. But two rooms of our home in Belfast were habitableand it was in these that we lived. The main British camp was directly in front of our house, and the situation galled me. I hated the British for driving us out of Rietvlei and for ruining our home, and before long I declared war on them on my own account. What happened is a good example of the way the English treated us.
I gathered all the boys of the town, that is, the dozen white boys, and drilled them as my impi. Sibijaan, being black, was not allowed to take part in our war. I considered it beneath me to let him fight with me against other whites. We armed ourselves with stones and sticks and late at night made a concerted attack on the British headquarters, which had been established in the ruins of the local hotel.
We smashed all the windows, and the officers and orderlies came tumbling out in great haste. The sentries did not fire on us, but there was a general rush in our direction which resulted in our capture. When we were brought before General Carew, he asked what we thought we were doing. None of us could talk English and the questioning was done through an interpreter. I informed him that we were loyal Boers and had declared war on the English.
General Carew looked at me very severely and asked me if I was ready to be shot for a treacherous attack after the town had surrendered. This was a new thought for me, but I stood to my guns and defied him. However, I did not like the idea of being buried in the localcemetery where we boys had seen so many British and Boer soldiers already put away.
After a few more questions, all of them with the most serious face and a gravity that could mean nothing but evil for us, the general delivered sentence. It was that we were to be taken to the improvised mess-room and fed all the jam, biscuits, tea, and sugar we could eat! I remember that I was very proud to be given a tin of jam for myself alone. My sister, Ellen, had been one of our attacking party and she shared equally in the spoils of our captivity.
But this treatment did not pacify us. Next night we made another attack, and this time we were really punished. We were captured and tied to the veranda posts of some houses nearby. Now this would not have been bad, if we had not been superstitious.
During the days following the victorious entry of General Carew into Belfast, we boys had been intensely interested in a number of wagons loaded with the bodies of British soldiers. These wagons were driven down the main street and the bodies buried in huge graves, oftentimes eight and twelve to a grave, in the local cemetery. The tale was soon started that the ghosts of these soldiers walked about the main street at night.
After we had been tied to the veranda posts it suddenly occurred to me that we would most likely see these ghosts, and I mentioned this pleasant thought to my fellow-prisoners. Immediately there arose a wailingand weeping; our brave little army cried to be allowed to turn tail and depart to its beds.
Of course the British did not know what was the matter. Ellen, instead of being tied up like the rest of us, had been taken into the mess-room and given more crackers and jam. She came out in a hurry to see what was the matter with us. I told her between gasps of horror, and she ran in to the mess and through the interpreter told the colonel. She said later that he regarded it as a huge joke for a little while, but then, when she became anxious for us, gave orders that we were to be freed. We scurried home with all speed as soon as the hated "Tommies" turned us loose. This was the end of our little war against the British. We might fightthem, but when it came to ghosts we lost our nerve.
In spite of stories that have been spread about the Boer War, there was always a fine sporting spirit between our people and the British. A good example of this was what happened to one of my older brothers. Jafta, the Mapor king, was concerned in this.
My father had prospered greatly in the Valley of Reeds, and when the war broke out owned immense herds of cattle, sheep, and horses. Soon after Belfast was taken he decided that it would be a good thing to move his stock into the northern and more remote parts of the Transvaal. One of my older brothers, two uncles, and a neighbor undertook the trek with the stock.
Such a trek is slow and tedious work, and shortly after they started out a galloping outpost of aboutthirty Britishers came upon them. The Boers fled. Their horses were tired and trail-weary and they had to leave the stock without a chance to obtain a remount from the horses they were driving. They broke for the mountains, and zigzagged about until they came to the kraal of Jafta, the Mapor king.
They hoped to get fresh horses from him, but Jafta had already been terrified by the British and feared he would be shot if he helped or sheltered any Boers. He explained his position to my brother and begged that the party leave immediately. His horses had already been confiscated and he could give them no remounts.
But the Boers decided to rest awhile and off-saddled their worn horses, who soon found their way to the river bank where they could drink and graze on the tender grass. Jafta was very nervous and urged the party to saddle and get away.
His anxiety proved justified, for while they were arguing they saw the squadron of British horse coming at a gallop less than a quarter of a mile away. It seems that kaffirs had seen the Boers and betrayed them.
Jafta was in a quandary. The safe thing for him to do was to order his impi to seize the Boers and then turn them over to the English. While he was making up his mind one of my uncles ordered his companions to pick up their saddles, bridles, and rifles, and duck into Jafta's royal hut. As they were doing this he shouted some instructions to Jafta.
A moment later the Britishers reached the entrance tothe kraal. Jafta, escorted by his indunas, went to meet them. Their officer was impressed with his regal air and recognized him as king of the Mapors. They shook hands, and then, through his interpreter, the officer asked about the four Boer fugitives.
"Yes, Nkoos, they were here," Jafta admitted, "but I was afraid to give them any food or help. They were very tired and their horses were tired also. But they went on."
"How long ago was that?" the Englishman asked.
"When the sun was over there," said Jafta, pointing. He indicated a space of about an hour.
"Well, we must pursue them," said the officer.
"But you look tired," suggested the wily Jafta, "and your horses are over-taxed. Won't you rest a while and have some tswala and refresh yourselves? Already it is the hour when there are no shadows (midday) and it is time to sleep."
The Britisher let himself be lured from the stern path of warlike duty and accepted. The horses were turned loose to graze and drink, and the Englishmen partook heartily of tswala and soon dozed off to sleep. The Boers, inside the hot hut, could do nothing, so they too went to sleep. It was a funny situation, had it not been so serious. These enemies were peacefully asleep within a few feet of one another.
About three o'clock there was a general stirring and every one waked up. The British troopers had never seen the inside of a royal kraal before, and they askedJafta if they might be shown about. The king immediately assented and appointed some of his indunas to act as guides. It was all new and interesting to the Englishmen and they were soon about fifty yards away from Jafta's hut.
This was the chance the Boers were waiting for. They slipped out and gathered up the Britishers' equipment, including firearms, and stowed it in the hut. A pistol was poked into Jafta's belly and he was also put in his "palace." A few moments later the Englishmen returned and found themselves facing the Boer rifles. They surrendered.
Everything was well with our party and they could have made their escape, taking as many of the British as they wanted as prisoners. But they knew that the Mapor king would have to pay for his duplicity, and thus decided that he must be protected.
Whereupon they opened a discussion with the commander of the British party. They informed him that they would take all the Britishers as prisoners to their own headquarters unless he agreed to the proposition that they made. It was this: First, the English must swear not to give evidence against Jafta at their headquarters; second, they must allow the Boers to have four fresh horses; third, they must give the Boers a certain start before again taking up their pursuit. If the British would agree to these conditions, the Boers would call everything square and each party would forget that it had ever met the other.
This proposal struck the British as a good sporting chance, so they accepted it. Everything was agreed to as demanded. Since there was no reason for further hostility for the time being, the Boers returned their arms and equipment to the British and both had a merry feast that night, during which they consumed all of Jafta's tswala.
Next morning the Boers left at dawn and did not see these Britishers for some time. Strange as it may appear, these same parties later met in a battle not far from Jafta's kraal and one of my uncles was shot. The same British officer was in command of the troops who captured him and saw that he was treated with every consideration, making him feel more like an honored guest than a wounded prisoner-of-war. This officer, by the way, remained in South Africa after the war, and he usually visits Rietvlei every Christmas and is regarded as one of the best friends the O'Neil family has.
During the Boer War, Oom Tuys was held accountable for the peace of Swaziland by both our people and the British. It was contrary to agreements to use kaffirs in the war, and Tuys made several trips to Zombode, the seat of Labotsibeni, to make sure that the Swazis were keeping out of the conflict. Later I heard him tell my father that he kept both Labotsibeni and Tzaneen quiet by pointing out to them that a word from him would bring the war to their country.
On one of his trips Tuys dropped in to see our old friend Umzulek and came back with the report that thekaffir chief was minding his own business and obeying orders. However, he made Tuys a proposition that showed him to be still willing to make trouble, if it were profitable.
"The old rascal suggested that he make a demonstration with all his impis against our borders," my uncle reported. "If he made a great enough showing, he thought, and news of it reached Oom Paul, our President would be willing to pay him tribute to keep the peace. It seems he has been thinking about Buno's monthly gift of two thousand pounds and the gin that went with it. He has a sort of feeling that it is a shame to let this money get out of the family! The crafty beggar only hinted at his scheme at first, but I finally smoked him out and he admitted what was in his mind."