Chapter Sixteen.Of a New Witch-Finding.Dingane was very angry when we returned to Nkunkundhlovu, and, indeed at first, it looked as though some would pay for our repulse with their lives. But that was no time for sacrificing skilled leaders of men, and winning the resentment of their relatives and following; and this the King knew. So, with gloomy and bitter reproaches, he dismissed us.The first step taken by the two principalizinduna, Tambusa and Umhlela, was to send out and muster every available man throughout the land. All were enrolled, even those whose youth would have precluded them from bearing arms yet awhile, and several new regiments were formed; and while this was going on, a careful watch was kept upon the movements of the Amabuna, for we knew not what they might attempt next. It was intended to attack them again before more could join them, but the idea was abandoned, for careful observation showed that we should stand but small chance of success, so warily did they move; scouting the land far and wide, and camping in such strength. So our people watched and waited, biding their time.Now all this,Nkose, in no wise helped forward my plans. I had hoped that we should have made an end of these invaders, and that then Dingane would have sent forth a strongimpito crush Umzilikazi. So should I have obtained my revenge. But with such a formidable foe upon our borders as these Amabuna, the King would not have a single regiment out of call; wherein, of course, he was wise.All of which did not help me, for now there was no more fighting my heart grew heavy once more as I thought of Lalusini and how she was lost to me; of my high position among my former nation forfeited for ever. And, indeed, my position among the parent stock was becoming daily far from secure, and I was looked coldly on by many who had been most friendly before, and even by the King himself. This I attributed to the influence of Tambusa, who had always hated me, and would be glad if by any means he could compass my death. Afterwards I learned that I was right, for, in his jealousy of me, Tambusa never lost a chance of poisoning the mind of Dingane against me, more than hinting that the repulse of theimpiwas due to my presence in the battle in a position of command. More and more then did I feel that I was stumbling upon the edge of a very high cliff. More and more did I awaken each morning to wonder if I should see the setting of another sun.Then something occurred which still farther deepened my forebodings. On returning from an expedition which had lasted but a few days, I found that one of my Swazi wives had disappeared. None knew what had happened to her, but I could see by their looks that it were better not to inquire too closely. Well, it mattered not. One girl was as good as another since the loss of Lalusini, and I still had two remaining. But she who had disappeared was that same girl who had been by my side what time I had dreamed; and she, too, had awakened in fear, declaring that a vision had passed through the hut, and I thought that the disappearance of this one, rather than that of the other two, augured ill—how, I knew not.As the days went by, the gloom that lay upon the mind of the King deepened, and herein theizanusi—ever eager for blood, or for gain—saw their opportunity. The wizardry which had wrought ill for our arms must be removed. So there was “smelling out,” and many were killed; but still the invaders did not melt away in fear, as the witch doctors had promised. On the contrary, they grew stronger; for others crossed Kwahlamba to join them.Then theizanusideclared they had seen other visions—had received a new and important revelation, to the effect that the workers oftagatihad not yet been discovered, but should be by an entirely new method. But Dingane was becoming weary of them and their trickeries. He sent for Tola, the chief of theizanusi, and roundly told him to use what methods he liked, but if his prophecies fell short of fulfilment this time death should be his reward.The land seemed shaken by a shudder of ill-ease. The warriors were growing impatient once more to be sent against the Amabuna, but the counsels of Umhlela, that we should wait for our enemies to make the first move—as they surely would—prevailed. So when the word went forth that all were to assemble at Nkunkundhlovu for a great witch-finding, an eagerness of relief went through all; for now we would see what the new method, as announced by theizanusi, would bring forth.Many a “smelling out” had I witnessed,Nkose, as you know, and the truth was, I hated them. I had been too much among the heads of the nation not to know what their real object was, however much the common people might be deceived, and believe—or pretend to—in the power of theizanusi. I had known but two real magicians in my life—Masuka, the old Mosutu, and Lalusini, my sorceress wife—and these used not their powers to destroy any, save real evil-doers; never to take the lives of brave men for the sake of gain or malice. All others I knew to be jugglers and impostors, and that Tola and his following were of this order I had long since determined. So there was no eagerness in my mind as on the day appointed I sat near the King, in the midst of the otherizinduna, while the witch doctors began in their usual way.The open space within the great kraal was densely packed, save that room was left for the wild dancing and other ceremonies employed by theizanusi. These ran up and down, mouthing and bellowing, and shaking the ornaments of their calling—bladders filled with blood, festoons of entrails of sacrificed beasts, bunches of feathers and bird’s claws, and snakes and lizards. Now and again they would halt, and pointing with their wands, tipped with giraffe tail, at some one in the crowd, would name him, calling, out a string of instances of witch dealing. This one held converse with a black baboon, that one slept all day and only moved out at night, another was reputed to eat snakes, and so forth. All so named were immediately led forth to the place of slaughter; but I noticed that among them was no person of any consequence. The witch doctors, to all appearance, were destroying them out of sheer wanton craving for blood.Dingane was growing impatient. His brows were wrinkled into a heavy frown. Not for such a well-worn exhibition as this, surely, had the bulk of the nation been convened. If so, then indeed it would go ill with Tola and his following. This was running in the mind of the King; and I, who sat near him, could see into his thoughts.Now the witch doctors ceased in their mouthings, and suddenly, from behind them, appeared a band of girls. There might have been three score of them, and they seemed to have been chosen from the handsomest and finest of the nation. They were arrayed in the richest beadwork, and wore wreaths of green leaves upon their heads and twined around their shapely limbs. A strange band, indeed, to spring up suddenly from the midst of those wizard-hounds of blood and of death.They advanced, swaying to a measured dancing step, and softly singing. A deep murmur of amazement and delight arose from all; for this was a fair and goodly sight, and all welcomed it as a relief from the grim hideousness of the witch doctors. A weight of fear seemed lifted from the minds of many. These, surely, were not here to doom to death.But as their singing rose louder and louder, as I caught the burden of their song, I, for one, felt by no means so sure. They sang of a nation cursed by an evil blight, of the counsels of strangers, of the first repulse the great Zulu power had ever known, of the presence of strangers in the ranks of the lion-cubs, of the presenceof a stranger. And every time they repeated the words they would sway round so as to face me, as I sat among theizindunaat the right hand of the King.Then,Nkose, the nerves within me seemed to tingle. Well knew I the meaning of this.Iwas the object of their denunciations. Any moment now I might step into the Dark Unknown. Doom had found me at last.I was being “smelt out.”Well, indeed, could I see through it all now. This had been arranged between Tambusa, my enemy, and Tola, the headizanusi. The singing band of girls, designed to add novelty to the witch finding, as well as to please Dingane, had for its object my death. The red cloud began to surge around my brain as I sat there. Not in me was it to die tamely; and softly I reached forth for the stick which was the only approach to a weapon which custom allowed upon such an occasion, and calculated how great a spring would enable me to crush in Tambusa’s skull ere they could lay hands on me. The death of the stake would be my lot; no matter—I must slay somebody.The band of singing-girls swayed nearer and nearer; then with a rush of their light feet they came straight for me. Now for the doom. But—not yet. Some unseen force seemed to turn them back again. They held on around the circle, not having pointed at or named me.This happened several times, and each time I looked to hear the word of doom, each time I tightened up my muscles for my spring upon Tambusa. Each time, too, the song denunciatory of “the stranger” grew fiercer, each time only to sink and die away in their throats. Then theizanusi, as in encouragement, lifted up their deep hoarse voices, as the voices of beasts growling for blood.Whau, Nkose! I can see it all still—for at such moments a man may seem to live a thousand lifetimes—the immense kraal, with its ringed fences and vast circles of yellow huts—the assembled multitude blackening the earth in its awed hush—the sea of expectant faces—the countenance of the King sternly set, those of theizindunaexpressionless as stones—the band of singing-girls—the savage eyes of the witch doctors—and, as a background to the whole, a brooding sky, blue-black with the threatenings of its pent-up storm.Once more, encouraged by the wild howling of theizanusi, this strange band of doom came whirling towards me. This time I was gone. But, no! They halted more suddenly than before, and their song seemed to die on their very lips. Then I looked up from calculating the distance between my stick and the skull of Tambusa, and beheld—a woman!She was standing alone in the open, midway between the cloud of scowling witch doctors and the band of girls, and there was that in her wondrous eyes which constrained and controlled the latter. She, too, was arrayed in rich beadwork, but wore no wreaths or garlands of leaves, and as I gazed upon her standing there—a splendid and majestic form—why then,Nkose, anybody who chose might have stepped up and slain me, unresisting in my amazement. For she who stood there was none other than my lost sorceress-wife, Lalusini.Had the shades sent forth their spirits? Had the grim alligators in Umzilikazi’s pool of death shrank back in fear from so royal a prey? Was I dreaming, or had I gone mad with the prolonged suspense of my impending doom? No! In the very life there she stood—she to avenge whom I would have slain a king—would have destroyed a whole mighty nation. And she stood there to avert from me the sure and dreadful death—the death of the man at whom the witch-wand has been pointed.One glance she flashed upon me from her wonderful eyes—quick, full, penetrating—one glance and no more; but in that glance I knew I was safe, for who should harm one whom the most marvellous magic ever known now protected?For some time thus she stood, speaking no word, only gazing around with calm commanding eyes. Then the King grew impatient.“Have done,” he exclaimed, with a frown. “Let us see whether the magic of Mahlula is greater than that of Tola.”“The magic of Mahlula,” had said Dingane. Then Lalusini was not known. Yet it seemed to me the majesty of the House of Senzangakona was so stamped upon every feature that her very look must betray her.“Judge now for thyself, Father of the Wise,” she replied. “This is the word of Mahlula. The ‘stranger’ of whom Tola speaks, of whom his company did but now sing, is not here, else these”—showing with a sweep of the hand the band of girls, who had ceased their movements and were now sitting in a ring around her—“these whom I have trained and taught would have found him—for my will works through theirs—my eyes see through theirs. Therefore, he cannot be here.”“Why, then, are we?” said Dingane, with a meaning in his tone that boded ill for Tola and his following.“Was it to learn the fate of a nation, Great Great One?” answered Lalusini, or Mahlula, as she was known here. “Learn it then so far. The end is not yet. But—I see the shook of war. I see men and horses advancing. The lion-cubs of Zulu flee before them. But lying behind the hills on either side is a dark cloud of terrible ones. Still they advance, those whites. Then that cloud whirls down upon them, breaks over them. Ha! There are death-screams as the flash of the spears rises and falls, and horses straggling, hoofs in air, and the song of those black ones is a battle-song of triumph.”Now I saw that the speaker had fallen into one of those divining trances I knew so well, and in which all she foretold had come to pass. Dingane, too, began to see this, and asked eagerly, yet not without awe in his tone:“And when shall this be, sister?”“Hearken to no idle counsels. Heed no false magic,” she answered, with meaning. “I, and I alone, can see into the future. Be led by me if this nation would live.”With these words, I, who looked, saw the vision pass away from Lalusini’s countenance, and her eyes were as those of one who awakens out of a deep sleep. The King, too, must have seen it, for he forebore to question her further. Then he spoke, low at first, but raising his voice in a black and terrible burst of wrath.“Now of yon impostors I will make an end. Take them away, ye black ones.” And he pointed with his spear at Tola and his following.At the word of the King, the slayers sprang forward. But the witch doctors fled howling, and keeping in a compact body, broke through all who stood in their path, and the lower end of the kraal became full of the kicking, tumbling bodies of men. But the slayers were among them; and the people barring their way to the lower gate, they were seized and dragged, howling and shrieking, without the kraal. And as the knobkerries fell with a heavy thud upon their cunning and bloodthirsty brains, a murmur of fierce delight escaped all who heard, for the people hated these wolves ofizanusi, and rejoiced that they themselves should taste the death they loved to deal out to others.There was one, however, who did not so rejoice, and that was Tambusa; indeed at first he had made a movement to stay the word, which was that of doom to theizanusi; but the look on the face of Dingane was so fell and deadly, that even the boldness of Tambusa quailed before it.And I—Whau!—I rejoiced that I still lived, and that Tola was dead. But Tambusa did not.
Dingane was very angry when we returned to Nkunkundhlovu, and, indeed at first, it looked as though some would pay for our repulse with their lives. But that was no time for sacrificing skilled leaders of men, and winning the resentment of their relatives and following; and this the King knew. So, with gloomy and bitter reproaches, he dismissed us.
The first step taken by the two principalizinduna, Tambusa and Umhlela, was to send out and muster every available man throughout the land. All were enrolled, even those whose youth would have precluded them from bearing arms yet awhile, and several new regiments were formed; and while this was going on, a careful watch was kept upon the movements of the Amabuna, for we knew not what they might attempt next. It was intended to attack them again before more could join them, but the idea was abandoned, for careful observation showed that we should stand but small chance of success, so warily did they move; scouting the land far and wide, and camping in such strength. So our people watched and waited, biding their time.
Now all this,Nkose, in no wise helped forward my plans. I had hoped that we should have made an end of these invaders, and that then Dingane would have sent forth a strongimpito crush Umzilikazi. So should I have obtained my revenge. But with such a formidable foe upon our borders as these Amabuna, the King would not have a single regiment out of call; wherein, of course, he was wise.
All of which did not help me, for now there was no more fighting my heart grew heavy once more as I thought of Lalusini and how she was lost to me; of my high position among my former nation forfeited for ever. And, indeed, my position among the parent stock was becoming daily far from secure, and I was looked coldly on by many who had been most friendly before, and even by the King himself. This I attributed to the influence of Tambusa, who had always hated me, and would be glad if by any means he could compass my death. Afterwards I learned that I was right, for, in his jealousy of me, Tambusa never lost a chance of poisoning the mind of Dingane against me, more than hinting that the repulse of theimpiwas due to my presence in the battle in a position of command. More and more then did I feel that I was stumbling upon the edge of a very high cliff. More and more did I awaken each morning to wonder if I should see the setting of another sun.
Then something occurred which still farther deepened my forebodings. On returning from an expedition which had lasted but a few days, I found that one of my Swazi wives had disappeared. None knew what had happened to her, but I could see by their looks that it were better not to inquire too closely. Well, it mattered not. One girl was as good as another since the loss of Lalusini, and I still had two remaining. But she who had disappeared was that same girl who had been by my side what time I had dreamed; and she, too, had awakened in fear, declaring that a vision had passed through the hut, and I thought that the disappearance of this one, rather than that of the other two, augured ill—how, I knew not.
As the days went by, the gloom that lay upon the mind of the King deepened, and herein theizanusi—ever eager for blood, or for gain—saw their opportunity. The wizardry which had wrought ill for our arms must be removed. So there was “smelling out,” and many were killed; but still the invaders did not melt away in fear, as the witch doctors had promised. On the contrary, they grew stronger; for others crossed Kwahlamba to join them.
Then theizanusideclared they had seen other visions—had received a new and important revelation, to the effect that the workers oftagatihad not yet been discovered, but should be by an entirely new method. But Dingane was becoming weary of them and their trickeries. He sent for Tola, the chief of theizanusi, and roundly told him to use what methods he liked, but if his prophecies fell short of fulfilment this time death should be his reward.
The land seemed shaken by a shudder of ill-ease. The warriors were growing impatient once more to be sent against the Amabuna, but the counsels of Umhlela, that we should wait for our enemies to make the first move—as they surely would—prevailed. So when the word went forth that all were to assemble at Nkunkundhlovu for a great witch-finding, an eagerness of relief went through all; for now we would see what the new method, as announced by theizanusi, would bring forth.
Many a “smelling out” had I witnessed,Nkose, as you know, and the truth was, I hated them. I had been too much among the heads of the nation not to know what their real object was, however much the common people might be deceived, and believe—or pretend to—in the power of theizanusi. I had known but two real magicians in my life—Masuka, the old Mosutu, and Lalusini, my sorceress wife—and these used not their powers to destroy any, save real evil-doers; never to take the lives of brave men for the sake of gain or malice. All others I knew to be jugglers and impostors, and that Tola and his following were of this order I had long since determined. So there was no eagerness in my mind as on the day appointed I sat near the King, in the midst of the otherizinduna, while the witch doctors began in their usual way.
The open space within the great kraal was densely packed, save that room was left for the wild dancing and other ceremonies employed by theizanusi. These ran up and down, mouthing and bellowing, and shaking the ornaments of their calling—bladders filled with blood, festoons of entrails of sacrificed beasts, bunches of feathers and bird’s claws, and snakes and lizards. Now and again they would halt, and pointing with their wands, tipped with giraffe tail, at some one in the crowd, would name him, calling, out a string of instances of witch dealing. This one held converse with a black baboon, that one slept all day and only moved out at night, another was reputed to eat snakes, and so forth. All so named were immediately led forth to the place of slaughter; but I noticed that among them was no person of any consequence. The witch doctors, to all appearance, were destroying them out of sheer wanton craving for blood.
Dingane was growing impatient. His brows were wrinkled into a heavy frown. Not for such a well-worn exhibition as this, surely, had the bulk of the nation been convened. If so, then indeed it would go ill with Tola and his following. This was running in the mind of the King; and I, who sat near him, could see into his thoughts.
Now the witch doctors ceased in their mouthings, and suddenly, from behind them, appeared a band of girls. There might have been three score of them, and they seemed to have been chosen from the handsomest and finest of the nation. They were arrayed in the richest beadwork, and wore wreaths of green leaves upon their heads and twined around their shapely limbs. A strange band, indeed, to spring up suddenly from the midst of those wizard-hounds of blood and of death.
They advanced, swaying to a measured dancing step, and softly singing. A deep murmur of amazement and delight arose from all; for this was a fair and goodly sight, and all welcomed it as a relief from the grim hideousness of the witch doctors. A weight of fear seemed lifted from the minds of many. These, surely, were not here to doom to death.
But as their singing rose louder and louder, as I caught the burden of their song, I, for one, felt by no means so sure. They sang of a nation cursed by an evil blight, of the counsels of strangers, of the first repulse the great Zulu power had ever known, of the presence of strangers in the ranks of the lion-cubs, of the presenceof a stranger. And every time they repeated the words they would sway round so as to face me, as I sat among theizindunaat the right hand of the King.
Then,Nkose, the nerves within me seemed to tingle. Well knew I the meaning of this.Iwas the object of their denunciations. Any moment now I might step into the Dark Unknown. Doom had found me at last.I was being “smelt out.”
Well, indeed, could I see through it all now. This had been arranged between Tambusa, my enemy, and Tola, the headizanusi. The singing band of girls, designed to add novelty to the witch finding, as well as to please Dingane, had for its object my death. The red cloud began to surge around my brain as I sat there. Not in me was it to die tamely; and softly I reached forth for the stick which was the only approach to a weapon which custom allowed upon such an occasion, and calculated how great a spring would enable me to crush in Tambusa’s skull ere they could lay hands on me. The death of the stake would be my lot; no matter—I must slay somebody.
The band of singing-girls swayed nearer and nearer; then with a rush of their light feet they came straight for me. Now for the doom. But—not yet. Some unseen force seemed to turn them back again. They held on around the circle, not having pointed at or named me.
This happened several times, and each time I looked to hear the word of doom, each time I tightened up my muscles for my spring upon Tambusa. Each time, too, the song denunciatory of “the stranger” grew fiercer, each time only to sink and die away in their throats. Then theizanusi, as in encouragement, lifted up their deep hoarse voices, as the voices of beasts growling for blood.
Whau, Nkose! I can see it all still—for at such moments a man may seem to live a thousand lifetimes—the immense kraal, with its ringed fences and vast circles of yellow huts—the assembled multitude blackening the earth in its awed hush—the sea of expectant faces—the countenance of the King sternly set, those of theizindunaexpressionless as stones—the band of singing-girls—the savage eyes of the witch doctors—and, as a background to the whole, a brooding sky, blue-black with the threatenings of its pent-up storm.
Once more, encouraged by the wild howling of theizanusi, this strange band of doom came whirling towards me. This time I was gone. But, no! They halted more suddenly than before, and their song seemed to die on their very lips. Then I looked up from calculating the distance between my stick and the skull of Tambusa, and beheld—a woman!
She was standing alone in the open, midway between the cloud of scowling witch doctors and the band of girls, and there was that in her wondrous eyes which constrained and controlled the latter. She, too, was arrayed in rich beadwork, but wore no wreaths or garlands of leaves, and as I gazed upon her standing there—a splendid and majestic form—why then,Nkose, anybody who chose might have stepped up and slain me, unresisting in my amazement. For she who stood there was none other than my lost sorceress-wife, Lalusini.
Had the shades sent forth their spirits? Had the grim alligators in Umzilikazi’s pool of death shrank back in fear from so royal a prey? Was I dreaming, or had I gone mad with the prolonged suspense of my impending doom? No! In the very life there she stood—she to avenge whom I would have slain a king—would have destroyed a whole mighty nation. And she stood there to avert from me the sure and dreadful death—the death of the man at whom the witch-wand has been pointed.
One glance she flashed upon me from her wonderful eyes—quick, full, penetrating—one glance and no more; but in that glance I knew I was safe, for who should harm one whom the most marvellous magic ever known now protected?
For some time thus she stood, speaking no word, only gazing around with calm commanding eyes. Then the King grew impatient.
“Have done,” he exclaimed, with a frown. “Let us see whether the magic of Mahlula is greater than that of Tola.”
“The magic of Mahlula,” had said Dingane. Then Lalusini was not known. Yet it seemed to me the majesty of the House of Senzangakona was so stamped upon every feature that her very look must betray her.
“Judge now for thyself, Father of the Wise,” she replied. “This is the word of Mahlula. The ‘stranger’ of whom Tola speaks, of whom his company did but now sing, is not here, else these”—showing with a sweep of the hand the band of girls, who had ceased their movements and were now sitting in a ring around her—“these whom I have trained and taught would have found him—for my will works through theirs—my eyes see through theirs. Therefore, he cannot be here.”
“Why, then, are we?” said Dingane, with a meaning in his tone that boded ill for Tola and his following.
“Was it to learn the fate of a nation, Great Great One?” answered Lalusini, or Mahlula, as she was known here. “Learn it then so far. The end is not yet. But—I see the shook of war. I see men and horses advancing. The lion-cubs of Zulu flee before them. But lying behind the hills on either side is a dark cloud of terrible ones. Still they advance, those whites. Then that cloud whirls down upon them, breaks over them. Ha! There are death-screams as the flash of the spears rises and falls, and horses straggling, hoofs in air, and the song of those black ones is a battle-song of triumph.”
Now I saw that the speaker had fallen into one of those divining trances I knew so well, and in which all she foretold had come to pass. Dingane, too, began to see this, and asked eagerly, yet not without awe in his tone:
“And when shall this be, sister?”
“Hearken to no idle counsels. Heed no false magic,” she answered, with meaning. “I, and I alone, can see into the future. Be led by me if this nation would live.”
With these words, I, who looked, saw the vision pass away from Lalusini’s countenance, and her eyes were as those of one who awakens out of a deep sleep. The King, too, must have seen it, for he forebore to question her further. Then he spoke, low at first, but raising his voice in a black and terrible burst of wrath.
“Now of yon impostors I will make an end. Take them away, ye black ones.” And he pointed with his spear at Tola and his following.
At the word of the King, the slayers sprang forward. But the witch doctors fled howling, and keeping in a compact body, broke through all who stood in their path, and the lower end of the kraal became full of the kicking, tumbling bodies of men. But the slayers were among them; and the people barring their way to the lower gate, they were seized and dragged, howling and shrieking, without the kraal. And as the knobkerries fell with a heavy thud upon their cunning and bloodthirsty brains, a murmur of fierce delight escaped all who heard, for the people hated these wolves ofizanusi, and rejoiced that they themselves should taste the death they loved to deal out to others.
There was one, however, who did not so rejoice, and that was Tambusa; indeed at first he had made a movement to stay the word, which was that of doom to theizanusi; but the look on the face of Dingane was so fell and deadly, that even the boldness of Tambusa quailed before it.
And I—Whau!—I rejoiced that I still lived, and that Tola was dead. But Tambusa did not.
Chapter Seventeen.The Dwelling of the Wise One.With the slaughter of the witch doctors Dingane had retired, and the vast assemblage of the people, breaking up, was streaming away in different directions. Mahlula had disappeared.Then, having gained my huts, I gave orders that I was to be left alone, and sat down to take snuff and to think. For here was a wonderful thing. She whom I had thought dead was alive again—had reappeared at the very moment when death would otherwise have overtaken me. There was something of fear in my mind as I thought of it all. Was it really Lalusini whom I had seen, or was it another sorceress who bore to her a most marvellous likeness—a sister, perhaps? But even the House of Senzangakona could not produce two such, I reflected; and then the very method she had adopted of averting from me the doom was the method of Lalusini. And now I longed for her again, for, as I told you,Nkose, I loved her as you white men love your women; but if, for some reason, she had been forced to hide herself under another name, how could I, the wanderer, the stranger, the man who had come hither to deliver his own nation to destruction, reveal the real relationship between us by laying claim to her?How was it I had never heard men speak of her? No talk, no word of a marvellous witch doctress, of a sorceress like no other ever seen, had reached my ear. Tola I knew, and those who worked magic with him, but of this one never a word. Was it because I was a stranger and not yet fully trusted? But old Gegesa’s tale was untrue anyhow, for here was Lalusini alive and well, and beautiful as ever. Then I thought how to get speech with her.To this end I went out. First I sought the hut of Silwane. But when after bringing round the talk to the events of the morning I would have drawn out of him what he knew as to the sorceress Mahlula, I found that he knew but little, as did those who sat in his hut. Her appearance in their midst was mystery, her movements were mystery, her very dwelling was mystery; and hearing this I thought how greatly I could have amazed Silwane by revealing how it was through the magic of this sorceress that our arms had won success over the greatimpihe had helped to command at the Place of the Three Rifts. But from them I could obtain no tidings, nor from any with whom I talked on the subject; and as day after day went by, I began to wish I had not beheld Lalusini again, for now it seemed as though I were losing her once more.Then my mind went back—back over my life since I had first beheld Lalusini and at great peril had managed to keep her for myself; back over our first meetings in the rock chamber of the Mountain of Death, what time we had eaten up the Bakoni, the nation who owned the Blue Cattle, and I remembered her words: “There is a people into whose midst I will one day return, and there I shall be great indeed, and you through me.” Ha! Was this part of a scheme—of a carefully-matured plan? It seemed like it. So I resolved to wait and let things shape their course.Now the very day on which I had formed this resolve I chanced to be outside of Nkunkundhlovu alone. Two girls strode by me with bundles on their heads, and as they did so, one whispered, “This night—induna of the Great One who site in the north. This night, by the two large reed-beds at the turn of the river. Mahlula waits.”The speaker passed on, but I,Nkose—my blood leaped at the words. At last I would have speech with Lalusini. At last we would meet face to face. Yet, even in the midst of my joy came a misgiving. Was it a snare—was it a trap Tambusa had set for my undoing? for the man who wanders at night on mysterious business—au! he is soon an object of suspicion, and to be an object of suspicion at that time meant death.This, however, I was ready to risk, but for all that I resolved to proceed warily, and he who should attempt treachery upon me might well wish he never had. So with my great assegai, together with a heavy knob-stick and a small shield, I wandered up the river shortly before sundown, and did not return to Nkunkundhlovu for the night.It had fallen quite dark, though the stars glittered forth in countless eyes from the blackness above. There was just the faintest murmur of the wind in the reed-beds, like the sigh of one who waits, and expecting, is disappointed for the time. The water flowed, evenly and smooth, lapping a low rock slab on the opposite bank, and now and again a soft splash and ripple as some crocodile rose or sank. In the air was a feeling of wizardry and awe; but I had passed through too many strange things to hold such in fear. Yet it seemed over long that I sat by that dark water and whispering reeds, waiting, while I listened to the many voices of the night, near and far.“Greeting, Untúswa!”The words seemed to come out of nowhere. Quickly I looked up, but the voice was not that of Lalusini! Then I made out a dark shape—a very shadow.“Follow now, holder of the White Shield,” it said, and immediately began to move away.The voice was that of a woman—soft and pleasing. Keeping the shadow in view, yet warily, I moved forward. Beneath the heavy gloom of trees overhanging the river bank we moved, and I had quite lost to view my guide, but at such times her voice would lead me; and at last I found she had halted at the entrance to a great rift like unto that wherein I had hid what time Jambúla was surprised by theimpiin search of me.My guide signed me to follow, and lo! we were threading our way in darkness between two great walls of earth. Then a light shone dully forth, and there, in a cave formed by the closing of the earth walls overhead, I beheld a fire.“Advance now, induna of another King,” said the voice of my guide, “for my errand is done.”Even as I looked round for her she had disappeared. But raising my eyes to the lighted space in front I beheld that which made me forget all else, for before me stood Lalusini.In the circle of firelight there she stood, a smile of welcome wreathing her lips, her splendid form erect and tall as when I last saw it standing to watch me out of sight what time I had started for the Valley of the Red Death. There she stood, her hands extended towards me.“Welcome, Untúswa,” she said. “Thus do we meet once more.”No words did I utter,Nkose. I sprang to her side and we embraced long and warmly. Then we sat down to talk, for we had much to say.“Welcome, Untúswa,” she repeated, still holding my hands. “Welcome, thou great brave one who would have slain a King who knew not how to keep faith.”“Ha! But how didst thou know?” I cried in amazement.“What do I not know? Tell me that,” she said, smiling at me. “Listen; I saw the midnight struggle in the ‘great hut’ of theisigodhlo. I saw the dark way along the cliffs of the Inkume. Was not mymútiin the buck with its fawn that saved thee from the pursuingimpiby showing no alarm, even as themútiupon thy neck saved thee when Umzilikazi lay prone and stupified?”“E-hé! but that is indeed so. And it was thymútiwhich saved me from the hatred of Tambusa and Tola but a few days since,” I answered. “But, tell me now, Lalusini, was not that tale true which was told me by old Gegesa?”“It was true so far as she knew. Ha! when Umzilikazi’s slaying dogs came to hale me forth in the black night, I laughed to myself, for I knew I had that by which the alligators should not harm me. I leaped into the dreadful pool where so many have died—and—came out quietly on the other side what time those dogs returned to report to Umzilikazi that the sorceress he hated would trouble him no more; but perhaps in that they lied—ah, ah, Untúswa, perhaps they lied! Not for nothing did that Great One from whom I sprung cause me to be taught the deepest mysteries of the magic of the wise. And thyself, Untúswa, through many wanderings earnest thou here?”“Whau! Not to thee need I tell of my wanderings, Lalusini, thou to whom all things are known.” I said.“And I think among such things are all thy wanderings,” she laughed. “Thou camest here to deliver the Amandebeli into the hand of Dingane.”“That is so, Lalusini; and for thy death the whole House of Matyobane should have died a thousand deaths. And now?”“And now? We will see what the future may unfold.”Thus we sat and talked on far into the night, and many a question did I put to Talumni concerning her own wanderings, and how she had first appeared at Nkunkundhlovu. I found she had been there before my own arrival; but when I asked why she had taken another name, and whether Dingane really believed the account she had given of herself, she said:“I know not how clear of suspicion is the King’s mind, but that it is not entirely clear let this tell: Never once has the Great Great One desired that I should become an inmate of theisigodhlo. Now Dingane’s love for handsome women is known to the whole nation, and I—well I am not quite the least comely of my sex, Untúswa.” This she said with a playful smile. “Therefore it may be that he suspects something.”Then I told her about Tambusa, and how his enmity placed me in daily peril. Her face clouded somewhat.“We must suffer him for the present, Untúswa,” she said. “He may be necessary to me in my plans, and to compass his death would be to jeopardise those plans. He and Umhlela are all powerful in the nation, yet they must remain so for a little longer. Still, be wary and cautious, for even the shield of mymútimay not always be broad enough to shelter thee.”The night had fled as we sat thus together—yes, indeed, it had fled—and now Lalusini bade me leave her and return, so that I might have time to travel while it was yet dark, and mix with those who were about outside of Nkunkundhlovu in the morning. This would be the easier, as the morning would be a misty one, for which reason, indeed, she had chosen this night for our meeting.Thus we parted, and it was arranged that I should not seek her out again until she sent me word, as before. She wanted for nothing—there were those who supplied her wants, and her dwelling-place was safe and secure. None dared invade it.As once more I threaded my way along the river-bank in the darkness, I sang softly to myself, not in fear, as many of our people do, to keep away evil ghosts, but in joy. My beautiful sorceress wife!Au! Was there ever another such?—and she seemed to have returned to me from the dark deeps of the dead. But with my joy there mingled another thought. The desire for vengeance seemed to have passed—the longing to deliver my former nation over to the spears of Dingane seemed wondrously to have diminished. I remembered old comradeship—and friends, many and brave, who had charged with me in close and serried line, shoulder to shoulder, in the lightning rush of our might as we hurled ourselves on the foe; who had sprung forward with redoubled courage to the rallying wave of my white shield; and now it seemed that I desired no longer the destruction of these. With the recovery of Lalusini, my rancour against Umzilikazi even seemed to melt away. But only to accomplish such destruction had I been allowed tokonzato Dingane, wherefore now I was as one who is jammed against a tree between the long horns of a fierce and savage cow—he cannot remain thus for ever, and does he but move, why one horn or the other must pierce him. Well, at present, with the Amabuna threatening us, we had enough to take care of for some time to come. Umzilikazi could not be attended to until afterwards.While comforting myself with this thought, something happened. There was a rustling in the grass, and a quick patter of feet. It was the darkest hour of the night, namely, that which precedes the dawn; but my eyes, well accustomed to the gloom, could distinguish the swift glide of fleeing shapes—indeed, a frightened, snarling yelp arose, as one of the shapes nearly came against me as I stood to listen. But they fled—those wild creatures of the night—after the manner of beasts who disperse when suddenly startled from their prey.Then there came to my ears a low wail, as the moaning of a woman in fear, or in pain, perhaps both.
With the slaughter of the witch doctors Dingane had retired, and the vast assemblage of the people, breaking up, was streaming away in different directions. Mahlula had disappeared.
Then, having gained my huts, I gave orders that I was to be left alone, and sat down to take snuff and to think. For here was a wonderful thing. She whom I had thought dead was alive again—had reappeared at the very moment when death would otherwise have overtaken me. There was something of fear in my mind as I thought of it all. Was it really Lalusini whom I had seen, or was it another sorceress who bore to her a most marvellous likeness—a sister, perhaps? But even the House of Senzangakona could not produce two such, I reflected; and then the very method she had adopted of averting from me the doom was the method of Lalusini. And now I longed for her again, for, as I told you,Nkose, I loved her as you white men love your women; but if, for some reason, she had been forced to hide herself under another name, how could I, the wanderer, the stranger, the man who had come hither to deliver his own nation to destruction, reveal the real relationship between us by laying claim to her?
How was it I had never heard men speak of her? No talk, no word of a marvellous witch doctress, of a sorceress like no other ever seen, had reached my ear. Tola I knew, and those who worked magic with him, but of this one never a word. Was it because I was a stranger and not yet fully trusted? But old Gegesa’s tale was untrue anyhow, for here was Lalusini alive and well, and beautiful as ever. Then I thought how to get speech with her.
To this end I went out. First I sought the hut of Silwane. But when after bringing round the talk to the events of the morning I would have drawn out of him what he knew as to the sorceress Mahlula, I found that he knew but little, as did those who sat in his hut. Her appearance in their midst was mystery, her movements were mystery, her very dwelling was mystery; and hearing this I thought how greatly I could have amazed Silwane by revealing how it was through the magic of this sorceress that our arms had won success over the greatimpihe had helped to command at the Place of the Three Rifts. But from them I could obtain no tidings, nor from any with whom I talked on the subject; and as day after day went by, I began to wish I had not beheld Lalusini again, for now it seemed as though I were losing her once more.
Then my mind went back—back over my life since I had first beheld Lalusini and at great peril had managed to keep her for myself; back over our first meetings in the rock chamber of the Mountain of Death, what time we had eaten up the Bakoni, the nation who owned the Blue Cattle, and I remembered her words: “There is a people into whose midst I will one day return, and there I shall be great indeed, and you through me.” Ha! Was this part of a scheme—of a carefully-matured plan? It seemed like it. So I resolved to wait and let things shape their course.
Now the very day on which I had formed this resolve I chanced to be outside of Nkunkundhlovu alone. Two girls strode by me with bundles on their heads, and as they did so, one whispered, “This night—induna of the Great One who site in the north. This night, by the two large reed-beds at the turn of the river. Mahlula waits.”
The speaker passed on, but I,Nkose—my blood leaped at the words. At last I would have speech with Lalusini. At last we would meet face to face. Yet, even in the midst of my joy came a misgiving. Was it a snare—was it a trap Tambusa had set for my undoing? for the man who wanders at night on mysterious business—au! he is soon an object of suspicion, and to be an object of suspicion at that time meant death.
This, however, I was ready to risk, but for all that I resolved to proceed warily, and he who should attempt treachery upon me might well wish he never had. So with my great assegai, together with a heavy knob-stick and a small shield, I wandered up the river shortly before sundown, and did not return to Nkunkundhlovu for the night.
It had fallen quite dark, though the stars glittered forth in countless eyes from the blackness above. There was just the faintest murmur of the wind in the reed-beds, like the sigh of one who waits, and expecting, is disappointed for the time. The water flowed, evenly and smooth, lapping a low rock slab on the opposite bank, and now and again a soft splash and ripple as some crocodile rose or sank. In the air was a feeling of wizardry and awe; but I had passed through too many strange things to hold such in fear. Yet it seemed over long that I sat by that dark water and whispering reeds, waiting, while I listened to the many voices of the night, near and far.
“Greeting, Untúswa!”
The words seemed to come out of nowhere. Quickly I looked up, but the voice was not that of Lalusini! Then I made out a dark shape—a very shadow.
“Follow now, holder of the White Shield,” it said, and immediately began to move away.
The voice was that of a woman—soft and pleasing. Keeping the shadow in view, yet warily, I moved forward. Beneath the heavy gloom of trees overhanging the river bank we moved, and I had quite lost to view my guide, but at such times her voice would lead me; and at last I found she had halted at the entrance to a great rift like unto that wherein I had hid what time Jambúla was surprised by theimpiin search of me.
My guide signed me to follow, and lo! we were threading our way in darkness between two great walls of earth. Then a light shone dully forth, and there, in a cave formed by the closing of the earth walls overhead, I beheld a fire.
“Advance now, induna of another King,” said the voice of my guide, “for my errand is done.”
Even as I looked round for her she had disappeared. But raising my eyes to the lighted space in front I beheld that which made me forget all else, for before me stood Lalusini.
In the circle of firelight there she stood, a smile of welcome wreathing her lips, her splendid form erect and tall as when I last saw it standing to watch me out of sight what time I had started for the Valley of the Red Death. There she stood, her hands extended towards me.
“Welcome, Untúswa,” she said. “Thus do we meet once more.”
No words did I utter,Nkose. I sprang to her side and we embraced long and warmly. Then we sat down to talk, for we had much to say.
“Welcome, Untúswa,” she repeated, still holding my hands. “Welcome, thou great brave one who would have slain a King who knew not how to keep faith.”
“Ha! But how didst thou know?” I cried in amazement.
“What do I not know? Tell me that,” she said, smiling at me. “Listen; I saw the midnight struggle in the ‘great hut’ of theisigodhlo. I saw the dark way along the cliffs of the Inkume. Was not mymútiin the buck with its fawn that saved thee from the pursuingimpiby showing no alarm, even as themútiupon thy neck saved thee when Umzilikazi lay prone and stupified?”
“E-hé! but that is indeed so. And it was thymútiwhich saved me from the hatred of Tambusa and Tola but a few days since,” I answered. “But, tell me now, Lalusini, was not that tale true which was told me by old Gegesa?”
“It was true so far as she knew. Ha! when Umzilikazi’s slaying dogs came to hale me forth in the black night, I laughed to myself, for I knew I had that by which the alligators should not harm me. I leaped into the dreadful pool where so many have died—and—came out quietly on the other side what time those dogs returned to report to Umzilikazi that the sorceress he hated would trouble him no more; but perhaps in that they lied—ah, ah, Untúswa, perhaps they lied! Not for nothing did that Great One from whom I sprung cause me to be taught the deepest mysteries of the magic of the wise. And thyself, Untúswa, through many wanderings earnest thou here?”
“Whau! Not to thee need I tell of my wanderings, Lalusini, thou to whom all things are known.” I said.
“And I think among such things are all thy wanderings,” she laughed. “Thou camest here to deliver the Amandebeli into the hand of Dingane.”
“That is so, Lalusini; and for thy death the whole House of Matyobane should have died a thousand deaths. And now?”
“And now? We will see what the future may unfold.”
Thus we sat and talked on far into the night, and many a question did I put to Talumni concerning her own wanderings, and how she had first appeared at Nkunkundhlovu. I found she had been there before my own arrival; but when I asked why she had taken another name, and whether Dingane really believed the account she had given of herself, she said:
“I know not how clear of suspicion is the King’s mind, but that it is not entirely clear let this tell: Never once has the Great Great One desired that I should become an inmate of theisigodhlo. Now Dingane’s love for handsome women is known to the whole nation, and I—well I am not quite the least comely of my sex, Untúswa.” This she said with a playful smile. “Therefore it may be that he suspects something.”
Then I told her about Tambusa, and how his enmity placed me in daily peril. Her face clouded somewhat.
“We must suffer him for the present, Untúswa,” she said. “He may be necessary to me in my plans, and to compass his death would be to jeopardise those plans. He and Umhlela are all powerful in the nation, yet they must remain so for a little longer. Still, be wary and cautious, for even the shield of mymútimay not always be broad enough to shelter thee.”
The night had fled as we sat thus together—yes, indeed, it had fled—and now Lalusini bade me leave her and return, so that I might have time to travel while it was yet dark, and mix with those who were about outside of Nkunkundhlovu in the morning. This would be the easier, as the morning would be a misty one, for which reason, indeed, she had chosen this night for our meeting.
Thus we parted, and it was arranged that I should not seek her out again until she sent me word, as before. She wanted for nothing—there were those who supplied her wants, and her dwelling-place was safe and secure. None dared invade it.
As once more I threaded my way along the river-bank in the darkness, I sang softly to myself, not in fear, as many of our people do, to keep away evil ghosts, but in joy. My beautiful sorceress wife!Au! Was there ever another such?—and she seemed to have returned to me from the dark deeps of the dead. But with my joy there mingled another thought. The desire for vengeance seemed to have passed—the longing to deliver my former nation over to the spears of Dingane seemed wondrously to have diminished. I remembered old comradeship—and friends, many and brave, who had charged with me in close and serried line, shoulder to shoulder, in the lightning rush of our might as we hurled ourselves on the foe; who had sprung forward with redoubled courage to the rallying wave of my white shield; and now it seemed that I desired no longer the destruction of these. With the recovery of Lalusini, my rancour against Umzilikazi even seemed to melt away. But only to accomplish such destruction had I been allowed tokonzato Dingane, wherefore now I was as one who is jammed against a tree between the long horns of a fierce and savage cow—he cannot remain thus for ever, and does he but move, why one horn or the other must pierce him. Well, at present, with the Amabuna threatening us, we had enough to take care of for some time to come. Umzilikazi could not be attended to until afterwards.
While comforting myself with this thought, something happened. There was a rustling in the grass, and a quick patter of feet. It was the darkest hour of the night, namely, that which precedes the dawn; but my eyes, well accustomed to the gloom, could distinguish the swift glide of fleeing shapes—indeed, a frightened, snarling yelp arose, as one of the shapes nearly came against me as I stood to listen. But they fled—those wild creatures of the night—after the manner of beasts who disperse when suddenly startled from their prey.
Then there came to my ears a low wail, as the moaning of a woman in fear, or in pain, perhaps both.
Chapter Eighteen.The Refugees of the Ngome.At first I liked it not, for strangetagatibeings are about in the darkness—half-man, half-beast—who rend those that wander alone at night. But even of such I felt no fear then, wherefore I went straight to the spot whence the sound came; and, ready to use my spear if need be, called out to know who it was that spoke.The answer came almost beneath my feet, and in the darkness I could make out a form lying there. I bent down and touched it. It was the form of a woman.“Remain by me till dawn,” gasped a voice hoarse with pain and fear. “Those horrible beasts. They will rend me again. Oh, kill me, for I suffer agonies!”“Who art thou?” I said, not liking this encounter.“Nomshasa, the wife of Untúswa,” came the feeble answer.Whau, Nkose! Then, indeed, did I well-nigh leap for amazement. For the name was that of one of my Swazi wives—that one who had mysteriously disappeared, and whom I had never expected to behold again. Bending over her, I strove, to raise her head; but as I moved her, though ever so gently, she shrieked.“Ah—touch me not! I am torn in pieces. Those horrible beasts! Put me out of my pain. One blow at the back of the head will do it.”Now the first streak of dawn had begun to lighten the earth, and by it I could see that what she said was so indeed. The hyenas which I had disturbed had indeed begun to devour her, and her body was hideously torn. But how had she come into that helpless plight? Then, by the fast increasing light, she knew me, and called me by name.And I,Nkose, gazing at her, I was filled with horror. The whole of her scalp was one mass of blood, and it seemed as though her skull had been battered in. Her elbow joints were smashed and swollen; so too, were her wrists, and there were marks of frightful burns upon her body. The marvel was she was alive at all. I was full of pity for her, for she had been a handsome and pleasing girl, and during the short time since the King had given her to me to wife she had always done well by me.Now, making a great effort, she told me her tale. During my absence against, the Amabuna she had been seized by order of Umhlela, and questioned as to my doings, but could tell nothing that would go against me in an accusation of witchcraft. She was kept a close prisoner in a hut until the return of Tambusa, when she had been put to the torture to force her to confess. They had burned her with fire, had broken her joints with heavy knob-sticks, and that not on one day, but on many; but she would say nothing, till at last, losing patience, Tambusa had ordered her to be thrown outside and knobkerried. But the slayers had done their work in bungling fashion, and so she had waited until night and dragged herself away in the darkness to die alone. Then, when faint and too weak to move, the hyenas had fallen upon her.No, the King could not have known, for it was in order to condemn me before him that they had tortured her, she said. But when I asked why they should have selected her rather than the other two, then,Nkose, came in the old, old tale, the mischief that can be wrought by a woman’s tongue. That vision which Nomshasa had beheld while asleep at my side she could not keep to herself. She had chattered about it, and this coming to the ears of the two principal indunas who, in their jealous hatred, were watching my every movement, had put it into their minds to use her as a means of substantiating a charge of witchcraft against me, such a charge as Dingane himself would hardly venture to shield me from the penalty of. But the poor girl had been heavily punished indeed for giving way to the weakness of women—the wagging of too long a tongue; though in her constancy under the torments they heaped upon her she had shown no weakness at all, but rather the strength and bravery of the most valiant of warriors; and this I told her.She was greatly pleased, and a drawn smile came over her face in the midst of her pain.“I loved thee, Untúswa,” she said, “and I rejoiced when the King gave me, a captive girl who might have been made a slave, to wife to such a noted warrior as thou. And I think thou didst prefer me a little to the other two, but thou wert ever kind to me, and the torturers might have torn me into small pieces before I would have let fall one word to harm thee. And now I think I were better dead, for there might in time be others whom thou might prefer to me; yet for a little while I have been first.”All this was said, not as I have told it to you,Nkose, but slowly and in gasps, and I, well, thinking of Lalusini, it seemed that her words were those of wisdom, for I had known experience of the jealousy of women. Yet I said:“Thou wouldst ever have lived in great honour, Nomshasa, and have been counted great among my wives.”“But not greatest—” she said, attempting to smile. “Yet hearken, Untúswa, and be warned. Return not to Nkunkundhlovu, for death awaits thee there. There is another great bull of the House of Senzangakona who would fain roar in this kraal. Mpande would welcome such a fighter as thee.”The dawn had now spread, and soon the sun would come forth from behind the rim of the world. And now, in the full daylight, the terrible injuries that poor Nomshasa had received, both from the torturers and the teeth and claws of the beasts, looked so awful that every living moment must be to her a moment of intense agony. She could not live. She must have seen into my thoughts, for she said:“It is time to give me rest, Untúswa. Yet return not to Dingane. They who were appointed to slay me jeered me beneath their blows, saying that before another sun or two set thy shade should join mine. Wherefore, flee. And now—Strike!”I looked at her, and my heart was heavy with pity and wrath. Then I said:“I will strike indeed, Nomshasa, for thy pain is too great. Yet let this lighten it. When the day of my power comes, be assured that the pangs of Tambusa and all who bore part in this matter shall be greater than thine. Now—art thou ready?”“I am. No death could I have preferred to death at thy hand, Untúswa. Yet, hold my hand in thine unarmed one as the blow falls.”I turned her gently over upon her side, but she groaned with the agony of it. Then with my left hand I held hers. For a moment I looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and something like a smile was upon her face. I raised my right arm aloft, then with one quick crashing blow brought the heavy knob-stick down. It fell, fair—just where the base of the skull joins the back of the neck. Her agony was over. No shudder even ran through her, so completely, so suddenly had death overtaken her.Notwithstanding the warning of Nomshasa, I still took my way in the direction of Nkunkundhlovu, for I thought I might perhaps gather from those I should meet whether the danger threatening was very near or not; whereas by taking a contrary direction it might overtake me suddenly and unawares, as peril springs out upon one who is blind. Yet I proceeded with great caution, so that presently, seeing several men approach, armed with spears and shields, I dropped out of sight to let them pass.But soon after them came another—a tall man and ringed. Him I surveyed a moment, and recognised Silwane. But, to my surprise, when I would have accosted him he turned away, as though not aware of my presence. This looked strange, but while I was pondering as to what it could mean, I heard Silwane begin to sing softly to himself. I listened as the words grew louder and louder, yet not so as they could have been heard from afar. And the words were strange, for he sang of a buffalo-bull for whom hunters lay in wait, whom their circle had well-nigh closed around; that the Ngome mountains were wild and broken, full of great forests and impenetrable hiding-places; and that there, and there only, had the hunted buffalo fled, that there, and there only, might he be safe. So he kept on singing. To any who heard, he might have been muttering an ordinary hunting-song, but to me, listening, ah! I saw his meaning. He had not really failed to observe me, but the last thing he desired was to do so in fact; and now he raised that song in urgent warning. Ah! he was a man, indeed,Nkose, was that same Silwane; a valiant fighter when we met in battle in opposite ranks; a true and faithful brother of the spear now that we had fought side by side.So I saw through his warning and the advice it conveyed, yet before acting upon it I would take counsel with Lalusini. To this end I turned back, and travelling with great caution, at length I gained the strange earth cave where she dwelt.She was surprised when she saw me, and somewhat disturbed. I told her all that had occurred—the death of poor Nomshasa and her warning; the meeting and warning of Silwane. But when I came to Nomshasa’s idea that I should join in the plots of Mpande she shook her head.“That will not do, Untúswa. That will not further my plans at all.Au! It seems that our places are reversed,” she went on, with a laugh; “but it will not be always so. I know this people better than thou dost, and am in a better position to watch and wait, and, if need be, act. Now the only way by which Mpande can sit in the seat of Dingane is with the aid of the Amabuna, and we have no need of these white invaders. Here is my counsel, Untúswa. Flee hence to the Ngome forests beyond the Black Umfolosi, and lie hidden awhile. There dwell a number of men who have sought refuge, and who will welcome thee among them.”“A wanderer again! Well, if it must be. But how is it that these people, if refugees, are allowed to dwell in the heart of the land unsought for?”“Because the King does not really desire their death. They are made up of men who have been smelt out by theizanusi, and have managed to escape; others whom the King has doomed, not really meaning that they should be slain, or theizindunahave plotted to destroy, and who having been warned in time, fled; also the relatives of these men, dreading lest the doom should fall upon them also. Now these men are so numerous as almost to constitute a tribe in themselves; they are wild and fierce, but will welcome such another fighter. That is the only plan, Untúswa; thou must flee to the Bapongqolo. Did not even the warning of Silwane convey that? Was it not about a hunted buffalo who found safety in the Ngome forests?”“That is so, Lalusini,” I answered. “Yet it seems that I have found thee after all this time of sorrow, only that we must lose sight of each other immediately.” And I looked at her sadly.“Patience, Untúswa,” she said. “I am planning to make thee great, that thou and I together may rule the world. Say, are we not of the sort who are born to that end?” And, coming over to me, she placed both hands upon my shoulders, looking up into my face; nor had she to lookupvery much, for, tall as I was, she, for a woman, was of splendid stature.“I think, indeed, we are well fitted to rule it,” I answered, with pride.“Then go now, a wanderer once more, Untúswa, but only for a short while. Besides, it may be that I will find thee but, even among the fierce Bapongqolo, from time to time,” she added.“Why, then, go I forth with joy,” I answered. “Farewell, Lalusini. Delay not to find me out.”She gave me a few things which I might need, food, and a casting-spear or two, and a large new war-shield—I having come forth with but a small dancing shield—and thus once more fared I forth a wanderer, a fugitive from the parent nation, even as from its offshoot. Verily it seemed as though I were to find no rest.Now the undertaking before me was, to a man of my experience and familiarity with peril, no very great one, for by using ordinary caution I could always travel unobserved. I avoided the kraals of men, moving mostly at night. Twice I saw in the distance bodies of armed warriors who might or might not have been in search of me; but these I easily eluded, though delayed thereby; and the third evening after parting with Lalusini I was well in among the wildest solitudes of the Ngome forest.And they were solitudes,Nkose. The great slopes and spurs of the mountains were covered with dense forest surging up in seas of foliage against the immense rock walls of the Lebombo mountains. Below, chasms and deep ravines through which the mountain streams whimpered, half hidden beneath the decaying vegetation and rotting tree-trunks of ages. And of animal life, of bird life, of insect life—whau! the air was never still. By day the black chasms boomed with the hoarse bark of the dog-snouted baboons, and at night thundered from cliff to cliff the roar of the lion. Birds chattered and piped, and the buzz of insects hung ever upon the air, but of man and his habitations never a sign.“Now,” thought I, “where are these people of whom Lalusini spoke? for these solitudes are not altogether to my mind. I like better not to dwell alone,” But still I wandered through unpeopled forests, seeing no sign of man, I grew uneasy. There was abundance of game, easily slain, too. Still I desired converse.This, however, came my way at last, and in right startling manner did it come. I had turned the corner of a great rock, where the track I had been following opened into a grassy glade. Suddenly there sprang up right at my feet several men fully armed, who, with a loud shout, called on me to halt.
At first I liked it not, for strangetagatibeings are about in the darkness—half-man, half-beast—who rend those that wander alone at night. But even of such I felt no fear then, wherefore I went straight to the spot whence the sound came; and, ready to use my spear if need be, called out to know who it was that spoke.
The answer came almost beneath my feet, and in the darkness I could make out a form lying there. I bent down and touched it. It was the form of a woman.
“Remain by me till dawn,” gasped a voice hoarse with pain and fear. “Those horrible beasts. They will rend me again. Oh, kill me, for I suffer agonies!”
“Who art thou?” I said, not liking this encounter.
“Nomshasa, the wife of Untúswa,” came the feeble answer.
Whau, Nkose! Then, indeed, did I well-nigh leap for amazement. For the name was that of one of my Swazi wives—that one who had mysteriously disappeared, and whom I had never expected to behold again. Bending over her, I strove, to raise her head; but as I moved her, though ever so gently, she shrieked.
“Ah—touch me not! I am torn in pieces. Those horrible beasts! Put me out of my pain. One blow at the back of the head will do it.”
Now the first streak of dawn had begun to lighten the earth, and by it I could see that what she said was so indeed. The hyenas which I had disturbed had indeed begun to devour her, and her body was hideously torn. But how had she come into that helpless plight? Then, by the fast increasing light, she knew me, and called me by name.
And I,Nkose, gazing at her, I was filled with horror. The whole of her scalp was one mass of blood, and it seemed as though her skull had been battered in. Her elbow joints were smashed and swollen; so too, were her wrists, and there were marks of frightful burns upon her body. The marvel was she was alive at all. I was full of pity for her, for she had been a handsome and pleasing girl, and during the short time since the King had given her to me to wife she had always done well by me.
Now, making a great effort, she told me her tale. During my absence against, the Amabuna she had been seized by order of Umhlela, and questioned as to my doings, but could tell nothing that would go against me in an accusation of witchcraft. She was kept a close prisoner in a hut until the return of Tambusa, when she had been put to the torture to force her to confess. They had burned her with fire, had broken her joints with heavy knob-sticks, and that not on one day, but on many; but she would say nothing, till at last, losing patience, Tambusa had ordered her to be thrown outside and knobkerried. But the slayers had done their work in bungling fashion, and so she had waited until night and dragged herself away in the darkness to die alone. Then, when faint and too weak to move, the hyenas had fallen upon her.
No, the King could not have known, for it was in order to condemn me before him that they had tortured her, she said. But when I asked why they should have selected her rather than the other two, then,Nkose, came in the old, old tale, the mischief that can be wrought by a woman’s tongue. That vision which Nomshasa had beheld while asleep at my side she could not keep to herself. She had chattered about it, and this coming to the ears of the two principal indunas who, in their jealous hatred, were watching my every movement, had put it into their minds to use her as a means of substantiating a charge of witchcraft against me, such a charge as Dingane himself would hardly venture to shield me from the penalty of. But the poor girl had been heavily punished indeed for giving way to the weakness of women—the wagging of too long a tongue; though in her constancy under the torments they heaped upon her she had shown no weakness at all, but rather the strength and bravery of the most valiant of warriors; and this I told her.
She was greatly pleased, and a drawn smile came over her face in the midst of her pain.
“I loved thee, Untúswa,” she said, “and I rejoiced when the King gave me, a captive girl who might have been made a slave, to wife to such a noted warrior as thou. And I think thou didst prefer me a little to the other two, but thou wert ever kind to me, and the torturers might have torn me into small pieces before I would have let fall one word to harm thee. And now I think I were better dead, for there might in time be others whom thou might prefer to me; yet for a little while I have been first.”
All this was said, not as I have told it to you,Nkose, but slowly and in gasps, and I, well, thinking of Lalusini, it seemed that her words were those of wisdom, for I had known experience of the jealousy of women. Yet I said:
“Thou wouldst ever have lived in great honour, Nomshasa, and have been counted great among my wives.”
“But not greatest—” she said, attempting to smile. “Yet hearken, Untúswa, and be warned. Return not to Nkunkundhlovu, for death awaits thee there. There is another great bull of the House of Senzangakona who would fain roar in this kraal. Mpande would welcome such a fighter as thee.”
The dawn had now spread, and soon the sun would come forth from behind the rim of the world. And now, in the full daylight, the terrible injuries that poor Nomshasa had received, both from the torturers and the teeth and claws of the beasts, looked so awful that every living moment must be to her a moment of intense agony. She could not live. She must have seen into my thoughts, for she said:
“It is time to give me rest, Untúswa. Yet return not to Dingane. They who were appointed to slay me jeered me beneath their blows, saying that before another sun or two set thy shade should join mine. Wherefore, flee. And now—Strike!”
I looked at her, and my heart was heavy with pity and wrath. Then I said:
“I will strike indeed, Nomshasa, for thy pain is too great. Yet let this lighten it. When the day of my power comes, be assured that the pangs of Tambusa and all who bore part in this matter shall be greater than thine. Now—art thou ready?”
“I am. No death could I have preferred to death at thy hand, Untúswa. Yet, hold my hand in thine unarmed one as the blow falls.”
I turned her gently over upon her side, but she groaned with the agony of it. Then with my left hand I held hers. For a moment I looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and something like a smile was upon her face. I raised my right arm aloft, then with one quick crashing blow brought the heavy knob-stick down. It fell, fair—just where the base of the skull joins the back of the neck. Her agony was over. No shudder even ran through her, so completely, so suddenly had death overtaken her.
Notwithstanding the warning of Nomshasa, I still took my way in the direction of Nkunkundhlovu, for I thought I might perhaps gather from those I should meet whether the danger threatening was very near or not; whereas by taking a contrary direction it might overtake me suddenly and unawares, as peril springs out upon one who is blind. Yet I proceeded with great caution, so that presently, seeing several men approach, armed with spears and shields, I dropped out of sight to let them pass.
But soon after them came another—a tall man and ringed. Him I surveyed a moment, and recognised Silwane. But, to my surprise, when I would have accosted him he turned away, as though not aware of my presence. This looked strange, but while I was pondering as to what it could mean, I heard Silwane begin to sing softly to himself. I listened as the words grew louder and louder, yet not so as they could have been heard from afar. And the words were strange, for he sang of a buffalo-bull for whom hunters lay in wait, whom their circle had well-nigh closed around; that the Ngome mountains were wild and broken, full of great forests and impenetrable hiding-places; and that there, and there only, had the hunted buffalo fled, that there, and there only, might he be safe. So he kept on singing. To any who heard, he might have been muttering an ordinary hunting-song, but to me, listening, ah! I saw his meaning. He had not really failed to observe me, but the last thing he desired was to do so in fact; and now he raised that song in urgent warning. Ah! he was a man, indeed,Nkose, was that same Silwane; a valiant fighter when we met in battle in opposite ranks; a true and faithful brother of the spear now that we had fought side by side.
So I saw through his warning and the advice it conveyed, yet before acting upon it I would take counsel with Lalusini. To this end I turned back, and travelling with great caution, at length I gained the strange earth cave where she dwelt.
She was surprised when she saw me, and somewhat disturbed. I told her all that had occurred—the death of poor Nomshasa and her warning; the meeting and warning of Silwane. But when I came to Nomshasa’s idea that I should join in the plots of Mpande she shook her head.
“That will not do, Untúswa. That will not further my plans at all.Au! It seems that our places are reversed,” she went on, with a laugh; “but it will not be always so. I know this people better than thou dost, and am in a better position to watch and wait, and, if need be, act. Now the only way by which Mpande can sit in the seat of Dingane is with the aid of the Amabuna, and we have no need of these white invaders. Here is my counsel, Untúswa. Flee hence to the Ngome forests beyond the Black Umfolosi, and lie hidden awhile. There dwell a number of men who have sought refuge, and who will welcome thee among them.”
“A wanderer again! Well, if it must be. But how is it that these people, if refugees, are allowed to dwell in the heart of the land unsought for?”
“Because the King does not really desire their death. They are made up of men who have been smelt out by theizanusi, and have managed to escape; others whom the King has doomed, not really meaning that they should be slain, or theizindunahave plotted to destroy, and who having been warned in time, fled; also the relatives of these men, dreading lest the doom should fall upon them also. Now these men are so numerous as almost to constitute a tribe in themselves; they are wild and fierce, but will welcome such another fighter. That is the only plan, Untúswa; thou must flee to the Bapongqolo. Did not even the warning of Silwane convey that? Was it not about a hunted buffalo who found safety in the Ngome forests?”
“That is so, Lalusini,” I answered. “Yet it seems that I have found thee after all this time of sorrow, only that we must lose sight of each other immediately.” And I looked at her sadly.
“Patience, Untúswa,” she said. “I am planning to make thee great, that thou and I together may rule the world. Say, are we not of the sort who are born to that end?” And, coming over to me, she placed both hands upon my shoulders, looking up into my face; nor had she to lookupvery much, for, tall as I was, she, for a woman, was of splendid stature.
“I think, indeed, we are well fitted to rule it,” I answered, with pride.
“Then go now, a wanderer once more, Untúswa, but only for a short while. Besides, it may be that I will find thee but, even among the fierce Bapongqolo, from time to time,” she added.
“Why, then, go I forth with joy,” I answered. “Farewell, Lalusini. Delay not to find me out.”
She gave me a few things which I might need, food, and a casting-spear or two, and a large new war-shield—I having come forth with but a small dancing shield—and thus once more fared I forth a wanderer, a fugitive from the parent nation, even as from its offshoot. Verily it seemed as though I were to find no rest.
Now the undertaking before me was, to a man of my experience and familiarity with peril, no very great one, for by using ordinary caution I could always travel unobserved. I avoided the kraals of men, moving mostly at night. Twice I saw in the distance bodies of armed warriors who might or might not have been in search of me; but these I easily eluded, though delayed thereby; and the third evening after parting with Lalusini I was well in among the wildest solitudes of the Ngome forest.
And they were solitudes,Nkose. The great slopes and spurs of the mountains were covered with dense forest surging up in seas of foliage against the immense rock walls of the Lebombo mountains. Below, chasms and deep ravines through which the mountain streams whimpered, half hidden beneath the decaying vegetation and rotting tree-trunks of ages. And of animal life, of bird life, of insect life—whau! the air was never still. By day the black chasms boomed with the hoarse bark of the dog-snouted baboons, and at night thundered from cliff to cliff the roar of the lion. Birds chattered and piped, and the buzz of insects hung ever upon the air, but of man and his habitations never a sign.
“Now,” thought I, “where are these people of whom Lalusini spoke? for these solitudes are not altogether to my mind. I like better not to dwell alone,” But still I wandered through unpeopled forests, seeing no sign of man, I grew uneasy. There was abundance of game, easily slain, too. Still I desired converse.
This, however, came my way at last, and in right startling manner did it come. I had turned the corner of a great rock, where the track I had been following opened into a grassy glade. Suddenly there sprang up right at my feet several men fully armed, who, with a loud shout, called on me to halt.
Chapter Nineteen.The Vengeance of the Refugees.“Animpisent by Dingane,” was my first thought, as I gassed upon the fierce countenances and the spears poised aloft with threatening flash.“Who art thou—and whence?” said he who appeared to be the leader, a tall man and savage of mien.“Rather, who are ye?” I answered, with another question, affronted by the insolent tone employed by the speaker.“See these,” he answered swiftly. “Speak or die! You are one man, and these are several.”“Yet I have fought with several before this day, O Unknown,” I retorted, with a swift movement, throwing up my shield in defence, at the same time backing towards the rock, so that they could not get round me. So I stood ready for a merry fight, for the leader alone would have taken up all my attention, so tall and strong was he—and there were others.To my surprise they did not come on. The leader again spoke.“Once more, who art thou? He who wanders in the retreat of the Bapongqolo must needs give an account of himself.”“E-hé!” assented the others.Then I lowered shield and weapons at once.“I am Untúswa, the son of Ntelani. Perchance ye have heard of him, ye who are refugees.”By the look which they exchanged I knew they had heard of me. Then the leader said:“What seek you here, Untúswa, for in truth that is a name which is known?”“I seek a refuge among the people who are in refuge,” I said.“Why then, thou art welcome, Untúswa,” he replied. “I am Sifadu, the son of Kona, and I wielded a sharp spear in the ranks of the Imbele-bele, of which I was a captain. But Tola, that jackal-spawned cheat, did name my father at a witch-finding, and he, being old, died the death of the black ants; but I and the remainder of his house escaped—and here we are.”“Tola will name no more, Sifadu,” I said. “The knob-sticks of the King’s slayers have put that form of pleasure beyond his reach.”“He is dead, then!HaulI am glad, and yet not, for one day I had promised myself the delight of having him enticed here that he might die the death my father suffered through him. I would pay ten cows as the price of that pleasure—yes, willingly.” And the look on the face of Sifadu was such that it was perhaps as well for Tola in the long run that he had died the swift and painless death of the knobstick.Thus we conversed, Sifadu and I, and as we journeyed I told him and the others a great deal of what had happened; of the invasion of the Amabuna, and how we had destroyed many of them. They had heard something of this, but I, who had taken part in it, was able to tell them everything. But what they especially wanted to know about was the rumour of plotting in favour of Mpande. Of this, however, I could not tell them much, because I knew but little myself.The principal place of the Bapongqolo consisted not of one large kraal, but a number of small ones; and so scattered were these, and so carefully hidden, away in the dense forest which covered the slopes of a vast hollow or bowl, that it would be well-nigh impossible to strike them all at one blow; and to this end was such concealment planned. Impossible, too, would it have been for any considerable number of men to have penetrated the hollow without their advance having been long since known to the inhabitants, so dense and rock-strewn were the approaches; and, indeed, all such were under the observation of small outpost kraals, which served the purposes of pickets.I gathered that these refugees were counted by hundreds. They were of all ages, from quite old men down to boys. Most of them, however, were middle-aged men in their prime; but whether the fact of being refugees kept them ever on the alert, all had a quick, ready, and fearless look, together with fine and well-knit frames, that stamped them as a warrior clan of no contemptible strength. And to Sifadu all seemed to look up as to a recognised chief.Of this Sifadu I knew not quite what to make. He was friendly at first, but as time went by he seemed to look at me with jealous and suspicious eyes, as though he thought that a man of my standing and prowess would hardly be content with the position of one among many, wherein he was right, perhaps. Of one thing, however, I was certain. Did I or any other man desire the chieftainship of these outlaws Sifadu would first have to be dead.For the present, however, I had no such thoughts. I was content to dwell quietly and unmolested, and await the turn events might take. So, as time went by, I seemed to have become as one of the Bapongqolo. Together we hunted the wild game of the forest—together we made descents in search of plunder into the Swazi country or the lands of the Amatonga, or levied tribute from the kraals lying beyond the outskirts of our own fastnesses; and so feared were we that none thought of resistance or retaliation.“Of a truth, Untúswa, the day might come when Dingane himself would be glad to join us,” said Sifadu to me, as we were returning from one of these forays. “With our help, even we might save him his seat. Then should we not be among the highest of the nation? Then would there not be some who might groan aloud because the son of Kona had returned?”Such a thought as this had been in my own mind, but I desired not to foster it in that of others, at least, not until I had determined upon my own plans; so to Sifadu I replied lightly on the matter, treating it as of no importance.Lalusini had kept her word, and twice had arranged that we should meet and hold long converse together. But on the second of these occasions her news was great. The Amabuna had crossed the Tugela in great force, intending to march upon Nkunkundhlovu. There had been a tremendous battle, but the army of Dingane had defeated them and had driven them back; and but for their horses would have stamped them out entirely. Then the English at Tegwini had undertaken to interfere in this quarrel, and had crossed the Tugela with a largeimpiof Amakafula. These, however, got no further than the bank of the Tugela, for the King’s warriors made meat of thatimpiuntil the river ran red with their blood; and, in his wrath and disgust at this breach of faith on the part of the whites at Tegwini, Dingane sent animpithere to eat them up, too.Whau! and they would have been eaten up but that they took to the water—took refuge on a ship that was there—for these whites,Nkose, had no business to interfere in a quarrel which concerned them not. They were not of the blood of the Amabuna, and they had ever been treated as friends by the house of Senzangakona since the great Tshaka had allowed them the use of the lands on which they then dwelt. So they were rightly served.Now all these tales of war and of great battles fired my blood, for I would fain have been in them; yet here I was, hiding away as a fugitive. But when I would have boldly returned, craving only that Dingane would allow me to wield a spear in the ranks of his troops, Lalusini dissuaded me. The hostility of Tambusa and Umhlela burned as hot against me as ever, and indeed I had fled not any too soon. She bade me wait. She herself was high in favour with the King by reason of the victories which had attended the Zulu arms, for she had foretold them.Not without risk did I thus meet Lalusini. I could not reveal the real relationship between us, and the suspicions of the fierce Bapongqolo once fairly aroused, I might be slain suddenly and without warning, and no opportunity given me of explanation or self-defence. Indeed, after the first time, I thought I noticed a frost of suspiciousness in the converse of those people towards me as we sat around our fires at night. But the second time something so unlooked for happened that it gave them all something else to think about.Lalusini had finished telling me all there was of news when, of a sudden, her manner became strange and suspicious.“We are being watched, Untúswa,” she said quietly.“Watched? Why then, it will be bad—ah, very bad—for the watcher.”And hardly had the words escaped me than I darted from her side. I hurled myself through the thickness of the bush, but something was already crashing through it away from me. I made out the form of a man.“Now, stop!” I cried—a casting assegai poised for a throw. “Stop! or I cleave thee to the heart.”I was about to hurl the spear fair between the shoulders of the fleeing man—who was now not many paces in front—when he stopped suddenly. I went at him. He turned round and faced me, a glare of hate and fury in his eyes that seemed to scorch—to burn. And I—Whau! I stood as one suddenly turned to stone, the uplifted assegai powerless in my stiffened grasp. For the face was that of a ghost—the dreadful glare of hate and fury that paralysed me was upon the face of a ghost. I was gazing upon one whom I had seen slain, whom my own eyes had beheld clubbed to death by the King’s slayers—Tola, the chief of the witch doctors.We stood for a moment thus, motionless, I gazing upon the horrible form of one I knew to be dead, as it stood there, shadowed in the gloom of the trees. Then, slowly raising an arm, the voice came, deep and hollow—“Retire—or I put that upon thee which shall blast and wither thy heart and turn to water thy courage; which shall change the most valiant of fighting-men into the most cowardly of women.”Awful as were the words, the effect upon me was not that intended. He had better have kept silence, for now I knew him to be alive, and I sprang upon him. He had a spear, and struck furiously at me with it; but I turned the blow, and then we closed. He fought and bit and kicked, and, powerful as I was, the lithe and slippery witch doctor for long defied my efforts to secure him, for I was anxious to take him alive. At last it seemed I should be obliged to kill him, when something was dropped over his head which, the next moment, was rolled round and round in a thick covering of stuff. It was Lalusini’s blanket. She had come to my aid just at the right time. We had no difficulty in securing him now, and with strips cut from his own skin cloak we bound his hands firmly behind him, and his feet. Then we removed the blanket.“Greeting, Tola!” I said. “I thought thou wert dead; but I had forgotten, a greatizanusisuch as thou could not die, which is well, for not far off is one who longeth to welcome thee.”“Have a care, Untúswa, have a care,” he snarled. “Dost thou not fear?”“Why, no,” I answered. “Themútiwhich protects me is greater than any which can be turned against me. But thou, what canst thou fear, O greatizanusiwho cannot die?”I was but mocking him,Nkose, for now I saw through the plot. He had purposely been allowed to escape in the turmoil what time all the otherizanusihad been slain; and I laughed at myself for my fears on first beholding him.We left Tola lying there helpless; and, removing a little distance, we said out all we had to say. Then we took leave of each other.“Use care, Untúswa, for it is that man’s life or thine,” said Lalusini, as we parted. “On no account let him escape.”“Have no fear as to that, Lalusini,” I answered. “There is one who will take even better care of him than I could.”When she had gone I unbound Tola’s ankles, and told him to walk. Now, seeing himself in my power, he began to talk fair. He promised to do all for me if I would but let him go—to rid me of my enemies, to make me the greatest man, next to the King. But I only mocked him.“A liveizanusimay do great things,” I said. “But a deadizanusi—whau!—of what use is he? And, Tola, I seem to remember that thou art dead—dead by order of the Great Great One. How then canst thou serve me?”Then he began on another story. He could teach me things—could reveal mysteries which would render me all-powerful against every form of harm. But I only laughed at this, saying that he would soon have an opportunity of testing his powers in his own favour; and thus, ever with a watchful eye upon him, we travelled on together until we entered the hollow where were the kraals of the Bapongqolo.“There are many here who will give thee warm greeting, chief of theizanusi,” I said. “Some even, upon whom thou hast looked before.”Now people began to crowd around us, and, recognising my prisoner, shouts of hatred and threats were hurled at him. They would have torn him from me, but I restrained them.“Go, call Sifadu,” I said. “I have brought him a long-desired guest.”At the mention of Sifadu’s name the terror stamped upon the face of Tola was frightful to behold. We, standing around, enjoyed this, for scarcely a man there but had seen some relative haled to the place of doom at the bidding of this hyena; some indeed to writhe in torment for long before they died. Then Tola, foaming at the mouth, rolled on the ground in convulsions; but for this they cared nothing, as a mere witch-finding trick. They pricked him with their assegais until he came to again, roaring with laughter the while. And as he came to again, Sifadu appeared.“Welcome, Tola,” he cried. “Welcome! We have long awaited thee. Ha, and a right warm welcome shall be thine, ah, ah! a right warm welcome.”And thrusting his face close to that of the witch doctor he gnashed his teeth in a grin of such hardly-to-be-restrained fury that I thought he would have seized the other with his churning jaws like a beast.“Welcome, Tola,” he went on. “A warm welcome to thee, in the name of all my house whom thou didst eat up.Whau! There were my two young wives. How nicely their tender limbs shrivelled and burned as they died the death of the hot stones as witches, smelt out by thee Tola—by thee, Tola—thou prince of smellers out!” and with the two repetitions he sliced off the witch doctor’s ears with the keen blade of his broad assegai. A frightful howl escaped the sufferer.“Then there was my mother and another of my father’s wives; they were lashed to death with switches to make them confess—by thy orders. Tola.HaulDoes this feel good—and this—and this?” And he lashed the prisoner’s naked body with a green hide thong until the air rang with screams.“Then there was my father, Kona. He was eaten by black ants—at thy word, Tola—by black ants. It took nearly a day for him to die in that torment, raving and roaring as a madman. And now I think this shall be thine own end.Whau! The black ants—the good black ants—the fierce black ants—the hungry black ants. They shall be fed—they shall be fed.”Now,Nkose, looking at Sifadu, I thought he came very near being a madman at that moment, so intense was his hate and fury, so difficult the restraint he put upon himself not to hack the vile witch doctor into pieces there and then with his own hand. He foamed at the month, he ground his teeth, his very eyeballs seemed about to roll from their sockets. But the face of Tola, ah! never did I see such terror upon that of any living man. The crowd, looking on, roared like lions, stifling Sifadu’s voice. They called to him the death of relatives—of fathers, of brothers, of wives, all of whose deaths lay at the doors of theizanusi. They wished that this one had a hundred lives that they might take a hundred days in killing him. There were several nests of black ants at no distance. Then somebody cried out that there was a particularly large one under a certain tree.“Under a tree!” cried Sifadu. “Ha. I have an idea! Bring him along.”They flung themselves upon Tola, whose wild howling was completely drowned by the ferocious yells of the crowd. But as they were dragging him roughly over the ground Sifadu interposed.“Gahlé, brothers. Do not bruise him. The ants like their meat uninjured.”Amid roars of delight the miserable wretch was dragged to the place of torment. Already some had knocked the top off the ants’ nest, and were stirring it with sticks to infuriate the insects. Right over the nest grew a long bough a little more than the height of a tall man from the ground. Now Sifadu’s idea took shape.A wedge of wood was inserted between the victim’s teeth. This had the effect of holding his jaws wide open, nor by any effort could he dislodge the gag. Then his ankles being strongly bound together, he was hoisted up to the branch above, and left hanging by the feet, so that his head and gaping mouth just touched the broken top of the ant heap. Then as he writhed and twisted and howled in his agony—for the infuriated insects swarmed all over him—into his nostrils, mouth, severed ears, everywhere—the Bapongqolo crowded around gloating over his torments, and shouting into his ears the names of those whom he himself had doomed to a like torment. It was long indeed before he died, but though I have seen many a terrible form of death, never did I see any man suffer as did this one. And yet,Nkose, it was just that he should, for had not he himself been the means of dooming many innocent persons to that very death? Wherefore the revenge of the refugees was a meet and a just one.
“Animpisent by Dingane,” was my first thought, as I gassed upon the fierce countenances and the spears poised aloft with threatening flash.
“Who art thou—and whence?” said he who appeared to be the leader, a tall man and savage of mien.
“Rather, who are ye?” I answered, with another question, affronted by the insolent tone employed by the speaker.
“See these,” he answered swiftly. “Speak or die! You are one man, and these are several.”
“Yet I have fought with several before this day, O Unknown,” I retorted, with a swift movement, throwing up my shield in defence, at the same time backing towards the rock, so that they could not get round me. So I stood ready for a merry fight, for the leader alone would have taken up all my attention, so tall and strong was he—and there were others.
To my surprise they did not come on. The leader again spoke.
“Once more, who art thou? He who wanders in the retreat of the Bapongqolo must needs give an account of himself.”
“E-hé!” assented the others.
Then I lowered shield and weapons at once.
“I am Untúswa, the son of Ntelani. Perchance ye have heard of him, ye who are refugees.”
By the look which they exchanged I knew they had heard of me. Then the leader said:
“What seek you here, Untúswa, for in truth that is a name which is known?”
“I seek a refuge among the people who are in refuge,” I said.
“Why then, thou art welcome, Untúswa,” he replied. “I am Sifadu, the son of Kona, and I wielded a sharp spear in the ranks of the Imbele-bele, of which I was a captain. But Tola, that jackal-spawned cheat, did name my father at a witch-finding, and he, being old, died the death of the black ants; but I and the remainder of his house escaped—and here we are.”
“Tola will name no more, Sifadu,” I said. “The knob-sticks of the King’s slayers have put that form of pleasure beyond his reach.”
“He is dead, then!HaulI am glad, and yet not, for one day I had promised myself the delight of having him enticed here that he might die the death my father suffered through him. I would pay ten cows as the price of that pleasure—yes, willingly.” And the look on the face of Sifadu was such that it was perhaps as well for Tola in the long run that he had died the swift and painless death of the knobstick.
Thus we conversed, Sifadu and I, and as we journeyed I told him and the others a great deal of what had happened; of the invasion of the Amabuna, and how we had destroyed many of them. They had heard something of this, but I, who had taken part in it, was able to tell them everything. But what they especially wanted to know about was the rumour of plotting in favour of Mpande. Of this, however, I could not tell them much, because I knew but little myself.
The principal place of the Bapongqolo consisted not of one large kraal, but a number of small ones; and so scattered were these, and so carefully hidden, away in the dense forest which covered the slopes of a vast hollow or bowl, that it would be well-nigh impossible to strike them all at one blow; and to this end was such concealment planned. Impossible, too, would it have been for any considerable number of men to have penetrated the hollow without their advance having been long since known to the inhabitants, so dense and rock-strewn were the approaches; and, indeed, all such were under the observation of small outpost kraals, which served the purposes of pickets.
I gathered that these refugees were counted by hundreds. They were of all ages, from quite old men down to boys. Most of them, however, were middle-aged men in their prime; but whether the fact of being refugees kept them ever on the alert, all had a quick, ready, and fearless look, together with fine and well-knit frames, that stamped them as a warrior clan of no contemptible strength. And to Sifadu all seemed to look up as to a recognised chief.
Of this Sifadu I knew not quite what to make. He was friendly at first, but as time went by he seemed to look at me with jealous and suspicious eyes, as though he thought that a man of my standing and prowess would hardly be content with the position of one among many, wherein he was right, perhaps. Of one thing, however, I was certain. Did I or any other man desire the chieftainship of these outlaws Sifadu would first have to be dead.
For the present, however, I had no such thoughts. I was content to dwell quietly and unmolested, and await the turn events might take. So, as time went by, I seemed to have become as one of the Bapongqolo. Together we hunted the wild game of the forest—together we made descents in search of plunder into the Swazi country or the lands of the Amatonga, or levied tribute from the kraals lying beyond the outskirts of our own fastnesses; and so feared were we that none thought of resistance or retaliation.
“Of a truth, Untúswa, the day might come when Dingane himself would be glad to join us,” said Sifadu to me, as we were returning from one of these forays. “With our help, even we might save him his seat. Then should we not be among the highest of the nation? Then would there not be some who might groan aloud because the son of Kona had returned?”
Such a thought as this had been in my own mind, but I desired not to foster it in that of others, at least, not until I had determined upon my own plans; so to Sifadu I replied lightly on the matter, treating it as of no importance.
Lalusini had kept her word, and twice had arranged that we should meet and hold long converse together. But on the second of these occasions her news was great. The Amabuna had crossed the Tugela in great force, intending to march upon Nkunkundhlovu. There had been a tremendous battle, but the army of Dingane had defeated them and had driven them back; and but for their horses would have stamped them out entirely. Then the English at Tegwini had undertaken to interfere in this quarrel, and had crossed the Tugela with a largeimpiof Amakafula. These, however, got no further than the bank of the Tugela, for the King’s warriors made meat of thatimpiuntil the river ran red with their blood; and, in his wrath and disgust at this breach of faith on the part of the whites at Tegwini, Dingane sent animpithere to eat them up, too.Whau! and they would have been eaten up but that they took to the water—took refuge on a ship that was there—for these whites,Nkose, had no business to interfere in a quarrel which concerned them not. They were not of the blood of the Amabuna, and they had ever been treated as friends by the house of Senzangakona since the great Tshaka had allowed them the use of the lands on which they then dwelt. So they were rightly served.
Now all these tales of war and of great battles fired my blood, for I would fain have been in them; yet here I was, hiding away as a fugitive. But when I would have boldly returned, craving only that Dingane would allow me to wield a spear in the ranks of his troops, Lalusini dissuaded me. The hostility of Tambusa and Umhlela burned as hot against me as ever, and indeed I had fled not any too soon. She bade me wait. She herself was high in favour with the King by reason of the victories which had attended the Zulu arms, for she had foretold them.
Not without risk did I thus meet Lalusini. I could not reveal the real relationship between us, and the suspicions of the fierce Bapongqolo once fairly aroused, I might be slain suddenly and without warning, and no opportunity given me of explanation or self-defence. Indeed, after the first time, I thought I noticed a frost of suspiciousness in the converse of those people towards me as we sat around our fires at night. But the second time something so unlooked for happened that it gave them all something else to think about.
Lalusini had finished telling me all there was of news when, of a sudden, her manner became strange and suspicious.
“We are being watched, Untúswa,” she said quietly.
“Watched? Why then, it will be bad—ah, very bad—for the watcher.”
And hardly had the words escaped me than I darted from her side. I hurled myself through the thickness of the bush, but something was already crashing through it away from me. I made out the form of a man.
“Now, stop!” I cried—a casting assegai poised for a throw. “Stop! or I cleave thee to the heart.”
I was about to hurl the spear fair between the shoulders of the fleeing man—who was now not many paces in front—when he stopped suddenly. I went at him. He turned round and faced me, a glare of hate and fury in his eyes that seemed to scorch—to burn. And I—Whau! I stood as one suddenly turned to stone, the uplifted assegai powerless in my stiffened grasp. For the face was that of a ghost—the dreadful glare of hate and fury that paralysed me was upon the face of a ghost. I was gazing upon one whom I had seen slain, whom my own eyes had beheld clubbed to death by the King’s slayers—Tola, the chief of the witch doctors.
We stood for a moment thus, motionless, I gazing upon the horrible form of one I knew to be dead, as it stood there, shadowed in the gloom of the trees. Then, slowly raising an arm, the voice came, deep and hollow—
“Retire—or I put that upon thee which shall blast and wither thy heart and turn to water thy courage; which shall change the most valiant of fighting-men into the most cowardly of women.”
Awful as were the words, the effect upon me was not that intended. He had better have kept silence, for now I knew him to be alive, and I sprang upon him. He had a spear, and struck furiously at me with it; but I turned the blow, and then we closed. He fought and bit and kicked, and, powerful as I was, the lithe and slippery witch doctor for long defied my efforts to secure him, for I was anxious to take him alive. At last it seemed I should be obliged to kill him, when something was dropped over his head which, the next moment, was rolled round and round in a thick covering of stuff. It was Lalusini’s blanket. She had come to my aid just at the right time. We had no difficulty in securing him now, and with strips cut from his own skin cloak we bound his hands firmly behind him, and his feet. Then we removed the blanket.
“Greeting, Tola!” I said. “I thought thou wert dead; but I had forgotten, a greatizanusisuch as thou could not die, which is well, for not far off is one who longeth to welcome thee.”
“Have a care, Untúswa, have a care,” he snarled. “Dost thou not fear?”
“Why, no,” I answered. “Themútiwhich protects me is greater than any which can be turned against me. But thou, what canst thou fear, O greatizanusiwho cannot die?”
I was but mocking him,Nkose, for now I saw through the plot. He had purposely been allowed to escape in the turmoil what time all the otherizanusihad been slain; and I laughed at myself for my fears on first beholding him.
We left Tola lying there helpless; and, removing a little distance, we said out all we had to say. Then we took leave of each other.
“Use care, Untúswa, for it is that man’s life or thine,” said Lalusini, as we parted. “On no account let him escape.”
“Have no fear as to that, Lalusini,” I answered. “There is one who will take even better care of him than I could.”
When she had gone I unbound Tola’s ankles, and told him to walk. Now, seeing himself in my power, he began to talk fair. He promised to do all for me if I would but let him go—to rid me of my enemies, to make me the greatest man, next to the King. But I only mocked him.
“A liveizanusimay do great things,” I said. “But a deadizanusi—whau!—of what use is he? And, Tola, I seem to remember that thou art dead—dead by order of the Great Great One. How then canst thou serve me?”
Then he began on another story. He could teach me things—could reveal mysteries which would render me all-powerful against every form of harm. But I only laughed at this, saying that he would soon have an opportunity of testing his powers in his own favour; and thus, ever with a watchful eye upon him, we travelled on together until we entered the hollow where were the kraals of the Bapongqolo.
“There are many here who will give thee warm greeting, chief of theizanusi,” I said. “Some even, upon whom thou hast looked before.”
Now people began to crowd around us, and, recognising my prisoner, shouts of hatred and threats were hurled at him. They would have torn him from me, but I restrained them.
“Go, call Sifadu,” I said. “I have brought him a long-desired guest.”
At the mention of Sifadu’s name the terror stamped upon the face of Tola was frightful to behold. We, standing around, enjoyed this, for scarcely a man there but had seen some relative haled to the place of doom at the bidding of this hyena; some indeed to writhe in torment for long before they died. Then Tola, foaming at the mouth, rolled on the ground in convulsions; but for this they cared nothing, as a mere witch-finding trick. They pricked him with their assegais until he came to again, roaring with laughter the while. And as he came to again, Sifadu appeared.
“Welcome, Tola,” he cried. “Welcome! We have long awaited thee. Ha, and a right warm welcome shall be thine, ah, ah! a right warm welcome.”
And thrusting his face close to that of the witch doctor he gnashed his teeth in a grin of such hardly-to-be-restrained fury that I thought he would have seized the other with his churning jaws like a beast.
“Welcome, Tola,” he went on. “A warm welcome to thee, in the name of all my house whom thou didst eat up.Whau! There were my two young wives. How nicely their tender limbs shrivelled and burned as they died the death of the hot stones as witches, smelt out by thee Tola—by thee, Tola—thou prince of smellers out!” and with the two repetitions he sliced off the witch doctor’s ears with the keen blade of his broad assegai. A frightful howl escaped the sufferer.
“Then there was my mother and another of my father’s wives; they were lashed to death with switches to make them confess—by thy orders. Tola.HaulDoes this feel good—and this—and this?” And he lashed the prisoner’s naked body with a green hide thong until the air rang with screams.
“Then there was my father, Kona. He was eaten by black ants—at thy word, Tola—by black ants. It took nearly a day for him to die in that torment, raving and roaring as a madman. And now I think this shall be thine own end.Whau! The black ants—the good black ants—the fierce black ants—the hungry black ants. They shall be fed—they shall be fed.”
Now,Nkose, looking at Sifadu, I thought he came very near being a madman at that moment, so intense was his hate and fury, so difficult the restraint he put upon himself not to hack the vile witch doctor into pieces there and then with his own hand. He foamed at the month, he ground his teeth, his very eyeballs seemed about to roll from their sockets. But the face of Tola, ah! never did I see such terror upon that of any living man. The crowd, looking on, roared like lions, stifling Sifadu’s voice. They called to him the death of relatives—of fathers, of brothers, of wives, all of whose deaths lay at the doors of theizanusi. They wished that this one had a hundred lives that they might take a hundred days in killing him. There were several nests of black ants at no distance. Then somebody cried out that there was a particularly large one under a certain tree.
“Under a tree!” cried Sifadu. “Ha. I have an idea! Bring him along.”
They flung themselves upon Tola, whose wild howling was completely drowned by the ferocious yells of the crowd. But as they were dragging him roughly over the ground Sifadu interposed.
“Gahlé, brothers. Do not bruise him. The ants like their meat uninjured.”
Amid roars of delight the miserable wretch was dragged to the place of torment. Already some had knocked the top off the ants’ nest, and were stirring it with sticks to infuriate the insects. Right over the nest grew a long bough a little more than the height of a tall man from the ground. Now Sifadu’s idea took shape.
A wedge of wood was inserted between the victim’s teeth. This had the effect of holding his jaws wide open, nor by any effort could he dislodge the gag. Then his ankles being strongly bound together, he was hoisted up to the branch above, and left hanging by the feet, so that his head and gaping mouth just touched the broken top of the ant heap. Then as he writhed and twisted and howled in his agony—for the infuriated insects swarmed all over him—into his nostrils, mouth, severed ears, everywhere—the Bapongqolo crowded around gloating over his torments, and shouting into his ears the names of those whom he himself had doomed to a like torment. It was long indeed before he died, but though I have seen many a terrible form of death, never did I see any man suffer as did this one. And yet,Nkose, it was just that he should, for had not he himself been the means of dooming many innocent persons to that very death? Wherefore the revenge of the refugees was a meet and a just one.