Kitabı oku: «The White Shield», sayfa 5
So our nation journeyed on, and more than one moon had waxed and waned. And there was a brightening up of spirits among the warriors, and talk and songs of war; for now we knew we were drawing near the country of the People of the Blue Cattle, the land of richness and promise, the land which should be ours.
Chapter Seven.
Untúswa’s Embassy
We had halted some days at a convenient place to hunt. The King was in high good humour, for the land with each day’s progress fell off in no wise from the report I had made upon it.
“In truth, Untúswa, thou art a wise man as well as a brave one, though young in years,” he said one day, as we sat beneath the shade of a great tree, taking snuff; for Umzilikazi, with a number of his body-guard, and three or four izinceku, had gone on in advance of the remainder of the nation, intending to hunt before the game was scared out of our path. But the game we sought was fierce and dangerous game – the lion, and the elephant, and the buffalo – and in the slaying of such none was bolder or more skilful than the King himself. I was the only induna of the party, and, indeed, it seemed to me that Umzilikazi liked to find some reason for keeping me about him, even as when I was a boy and unringed.
“It seems to me,” he went on, after I had uttered my thanks for his word of approval, “it seems to me that we are drawing near to the country of the Chief of the Blue Cattle, yet the choicest of those cattle have not travelled our way, nor have their owners sent to beg to be allowed to live. How do you explain this, Untúswa?”
“The Bakoni are a nation of fools, Great Great One. Their warriors are numerous, but they do not look much of warriors. They, in their ignorance, fear not the might of the all-devouring Amazula. Give but the word, Father, and the day we sight their town, there shall not be a man left.”
“Thou art a lion-cub, indeed, Untúswa,” said the King, with a laugh. “No. I have another mind in this matter. I will not destroy these people, for I think to make use of them – that is, I will give them one more chance. I will send to their chief, that he delay not to come in and place his neck beneath my foot. But who to send? None but these slaves speak with the tongue of those people – and who can trust a slave? – and Masuka is too old, and to me too valuable.”
This last the King said rather to himself than to me, yet I understood his meaning.
“Send me, Father,” I said. “I am able to converse with these people, and who better can explain the mind of the King in such a matter?”
“That is so, Untúswa. But it is like sending thee to thy death; for, if these people are wallowing in their folly to the extent of refusing to konza to me, it is as likely as not they will slay my messenger. And it is not a very great death for a fighting captain.”
“When a man dies in the service of the King, any death is a great death,” I answered. “Send me, Black Elephant.”
Umzilikazi took snuff a moment and pondered.
“I will send thee, son of Ntelani,” he said. “Who now is there to bear thee company, for thou must go alone, with one other, and four slaves to carry thy game. I will not that an induna of the King go before the chief of a numerous nation unattended.”
It was, as the King had said, a dangerous service. The Bakoni, I knew, were relying on their numbers. It was extremely probable they would put me to death in the first instance, and, at any rate, certain that they would do so later, when they realised that our impis were actually drawing near to sweep them off the face of the earth. Yet I felt sure that the Great Great One had some reason in sending me; and, even had I not, never was I known to think twice when ordered to any post of danger. I was the only induna with the King there in our advanced camp, but among the royal body-guard was that aforementioned younger brother of mine, Mgwali, son of the same mother as Sekweni, who was put to death for suffering himself to be overpowered at his post. Him now I named to the King.
“It is well,” said Umzilikazi. “Go now to this chief named Tauane, which appears to mean in the tongue of his race, ‘A Young Lion,’ and say that not many days off draweth near an old lion, whose roar is louder – that unless I behold the usual tribute, brought by himself in person, before we are within a day’s march of his town, he and his people are already dead. Go!”
I stood before the King, cried aloud the Bayéte, and strode off. I armed myself with my great war-shield, several strong assegais, and a heavy knobstick. Then I took in my hand the King’s Assegai, and sent for my brother Mgwali.
“Pick out four of the slaves, load them with such things as we need for a long march, and follow me. It is the ‘word’ of the King!”
I stepped forth from the camp with my face turned northward. Before I had gone far I heard a sound of singing, and footsteps behind me, and immediately I was overtaken by my brother, and behind him the four Amaholi bearing loads.
“Whither are we bound, son of my father?” he asked, now that he had time for speech. I told him.
“Whau! It is like the King sending two men to take a whole nation by the beard!” he said, with a joyous laugh. “Yet, Untúswa, I am glad to be one of those chosen, for know that I am tired of my own hair, and would fain wear the ring instead of it. Moreover, thou sayest that these Bakoni maidens are fair.”
“Thou shalt soon see for thyself, Mgwali. Yet it may be that a grimmer embrace awaits us both in their town. How likest thou that, son of my father?”
“I care not. Hau! Ibúbese!” he cried, hurling an assegai with the quickness of lightning at a long, yellow gliding shape, which had darted from a thicket in front of us. But the lion uttered a quick, frightened yelp, and made off unhurt. The spear had fallen short.
“No more of that – no more of that!” I cried, in anger. “We are on the King’s service, boy. No time have we to stop and hunt. Our game lies yonder, and it may be yet more dangerous than the slaying of lions.”
Not many days had we to travel before we drew near the Great Place of the Bakoni; and, from the commotion which our appearance excited among the inhabitants of such outlying kraals as we passed, we felt pretty sure that the news of our approach had already been conveyed to the chief. And such, indeed, was the case; for on the last rise, which should bring us within sight of the town, we were surrounded by two large bands of armed warriors.
“Delay us not,” I cried haughtily, with a wave of the hand, as these made as though they would have drawn up across our path. “Delay us not. We carry the ‘word’ of the Black Elephant to the Chief of the Blue Cattle.”
We did not halt, we did not slacken our pace. We marched right into the midst of that company of armed men as though none were there. They gave way in silence, but formed up on either side of us in the manner of an escort, and in this order we drew near to the town – not exchanging a word, though we could hear the slaves behind, who bore our burdens, whispering to each other excitedly. Thus we entered, and as we did so the same thought was in both our minds. How, and in what manner should we depart from it again?
The plain for some distance outside the town was dotted about with people: women in groups, men with weapons in their hands, children herding the sleek, blue-coloured cattle, but all gazing with unbounded curiosity upon two men walking alone into their midst as though kings over them, and such indeed we felt.
In those days, Nkose, I was at the very height of my strength and manhood. Now I am old and wrinkled, but I am not short. Then I was of a largeness of limb in proportion to my lofty stature. My body was a framework of hard muscles, and indeed there was not a man in our nation who could overcome me in strength or surpass me in agility, in which my brother, Mgwali, was somewhat my inferior; yet even he was a giant in comparison with the people among whom we now were, though in other matters than strength and stature they seemed far from being a race of fools. Indeed, I have thought since that the King may have had such a contrast in his eye when he sent me to represent him among these people.
If this place had struck me as large before, it now seemed doubly so. In among the huts, too, were strange circular stone walls, here and there, looking like old and strong buildings, for their strength was immense. The huts were without end; they were built of grass, rising to a point, and were neat and clean. We were conducted to one, and bidden to rest, for that the chief would confer with us on the morrow.
“That may not be,” I said decidedly. “This night must the ‘word’ of the Great King be spoken. To-morrow may be too late for ye, O people of the Blue Cattle.”
“E – hé!” assented my brother.
Our escort looked at one another, and their looks were blank. However, they invited us to enter the hut, saying that food and drink should be brought us, and that meanwhile my words should be carried to the ears of Tauane.
We had finished the piece of beef which had been sent us, and had drained the large bowl of tywala, when messengers arrived to announce that the council of the nation would be convened at sundown, and that the “word” to be returned to our King would then be made known to us.
At the appointed time we set forth, Mgwali and I, fully armed, and bearing our shields. As we walked behind our guides, I noted the intense curiosity which our appearance was inspiring, and laughed to myself. For I heard the bystanders, especially the women, comparing our stature and fierce aspect with that of their own people, and saying if we were representatives of that horrible race – of which they had already begun to hear – then, indeed, they were as good as dead. Moreover, while not appearing to do so, I took note of the high fortified hill, which lay a little way back from the town, and thought I could find a way up it – wherein, however, I might have been wrong.
The men of the nation were gathered in an immense half-circle, like the formation of one of our impis when throwing out flanking “horns.” They sat at the upper end of a great open square, and in the bend of the half-circle were grouped the principal councillors and chiefs, and, a little in advance of the rest, clothed in the skin of a maned lion, and wearing ornaments of gold, sat the chief, Tauane. Behind were several huts of much larger size than any of the others.
Although those immediately in front of us were not armed, yet the ranks on either side showed a perfect glitter of spears. The shields were square, and not made of oxhide, like ours, but of wood. We knew at a glance that, were our death intended, we should stand no chance whatever. Two men, however brave, however well armed, would be nothing among these.
“Greeting, Chief of the Blue Cattle!” I said, as we drew near. “Remember you the name of Untúswa, son of Ntelani, and an induna of the Great King? It is a name I promised you should hear again.”
Tauane frowned, and I could see his gaze rest meaningly on our weapons. These we had gone so far as to hold in our left hands only, extending the right, open and in greeting. Further, he expected we should have bent down before him; but I, an induna of the King, a Zulu of pure blood, and coming of a kingly house, thought myself an immeasurably greater man than even the head chief of such a large and wealthy tribe as this.
“Is the nation gathered to hear my message, the ‘word’ of the Great Great One?” I asked, without further ceremony.
“Speak it, stranger,” said the chief shortly.
“This it is, then, Chief of the Blue Cattle, and councillors and people of the Bakoni. The ‘word’ of Umzilikazi, the Great King – the Black Elephant, whose tread shaketh the world – is short, even as the measure he meteth out to they who think to defy him. This it is: – ‘Go, now, to this chief, Tauane, the lion-cub, and say that not many days off there draweth near an old lion, whose roar is louder than his own – that unless I behold the usual tribute, brought by himself in person, before we are within a day’s march of his town, he and his people are already dead.’ Such was the word of the founder of nations, the eater-up of disobedient peoples, O Tauane, and councillors of the Bakoni.”
I was not sure, Nkose that that moment was not my last. Such a chorus of rage went up from the armed ranks as I delivered my message as might have been heard a great way off.
“To death with him!” they roared. “To death with the man who wears the black ring! Let him be burnt in the fire!”
But of all this I took no notice. I even gave a slight laugh, as I stood, with my head thrown back, looking down upon Tauane.
“Such is the word of the Great Great One,” I repeated, slowly.
“Have you ever done a bolder act, stranger?” said Tauane. “Hear you these? They howl for the blood of him who has insulted their nation and chief. Have you ever done a bolder act?”
“I have, indeed – an act which has won me the isicoco I wear – also this” – holding forth the King’s Assegai. “If they howl now, what will they do when the ‘word’ of Umzilikazi, the mighty King, is not obeyed. Never does he send forth his ‘word’ twice. Now, when wilt thou konza to the Elephant, O Tauane? The sooner the better!”
The howl that went up now was terrible to hear. The dense lines of armed warriors sprang to their feet and hurled themselves upon us, spears uplifted.
Mgwali and I stood back to back, covered by our shields. We would die like Zulu warriors, but before we did so the King’s Assegai should cleave in twain the heart of the chief. This Tauane knew, and made furious signs to his people to forbear. But they would not listen, and it seemed that in a moment more we should fall beneath the weight of the corpses of the Bakoni whom we would carry with us to the Dark Unknown, when there arose a new and sudden tumult out beyond the lines of those who would have slain us.
Up the open square men were running – fleeing as before some great and unknown terror – calling out wildly and looking back as they ran. Every hand was stayed, each uplifted weapon lowered. Away, over the plain, dust-clouds were moving, and soon we could descry among them the advancing horns of driven cattle. Our hearts leaped. Soon we expected to behold the avenging spears of our nation. The King had repented him of our errand of peace. Our army was even now hurrying to sweep this rebellious people from the land.
“Arm yourselves, men of the Bakoni!” cried the fugitives. “Foes are at our gate! Three days have we fled before them, such of us as are left to flee, with what we could save of our cattle. Yonder they come! They will soon be here!”
Now in the disturbance which followed, the Bakoni thought no more of taking our lives. Wildly the fugitives urged that all should at once take refuge in the hills, for that a strange and mighty race was advancing like a devouring swarm of locusts, its warriors as countless in number as the destroying insects themselves. They had received warning in time and had fled; had received warning from the remnant of those who had already been devoured. But those around us laughed. Look at their strength; at their armed might! Whom did they fear? Had they not behind them, too, an impregnable fortress?
The eyes of all were directed to the fleeing cattle. But as these drew near, urged on by their drivers, no further dust-cloud beyond them betokened the advance of a pursuing enemy. If there had been such, he had prudently drawn off on finding himself too near their great town, the Queen of the North, decided the chiefs and councillors of the Bakoni. They little knew – ah, they little knew!
During this disturbance we two had quite recovered our proud and disdainful calmness. We stood watching what went on as though in it we had no lot or part. At last, when it had quieted down somewhat, Tauane spoke:
“It will be well to retire to your house, ye two strangers. On the morrow will be decided the answer that shall be sent to your King.”
Chapter Eight.
The Scourge
The morrow came, but with it no answer to the King’s “word.” The day was spent by the Bakoni in sending forth scouting parties to look for the rumoured enemy, but these returned bearing no further news, and the chiefs and people of this doomed race felt safer than ever.
No council was convened in the evening and now, feeling sure that no answer was intended, I sent an angry message to Tauane, saying that I would give him till the middle of the following day, and that unless I had his reply by then I should depart; that his chance of safety would have gone by, and that when next he saw me it would be in the forefront of the destroyers.
We did not sleep much that night, my brother and I. We feared even to eat the food supplied to us until we had first caused one of our slaves to partake freely of it. We talked together in a low voice and made our plans.
Morning dawned. We stepped outside our hut, and, lo! all things looked as usual. Women were passing to their ordinary work. Cattle were being milked – those fine blue cattle of which these people were so fond. Young men lounged about, scarcely armed, laughing with the girls, and old men sat taking snuff and chattering. As we stood before our door, their attention was drawn to us, though their remarks were uttered too low for us to catch.
“Of a truth, some of these Bakoni maidens are good to look upon!” murmured my brother, as a string of girls, calabash on head, stepped by.
“Peace, boy,” I answered sternly. “What have we to do with such, we who bear the ‘word’ of the King?”
Taking a rod, I planted it upright in the earth. We stood watching it; but no message came from the Chief of the Blue Cattle. The shadow thrown out by the rod was now scarcely twice the length of a man’s finger. Then I directed Mgwali to cause our four slaves to gather together their loads, for the time for departure had arrived. Only three, however, appeared. The fourth was not to be found. Clearly he had deserted. This looked badly.
The sun had reached his highest. The rod which I had planted in the earth cast no shadow now.
At a word from me we stepped forth, my brother and I together, the three remaining slaves but a few paces behind. As we passed through the town we noticed some of those strange-looking stone walls we had seen on our first arrival. These were about the height of a man’s head – though, in places, higher – and were built in a round formation, seeming to encircle a second enclosure. We noticed just then that the outer wall was entered by a narrow opening just wide enough to admit the body of a man.
But now all our attention was turned upon ourselves, for we were suddenly encompassed by a crowd of armed Bakoni. These, flourishing their weapons, ordered us, in angry and jeering tones, to return to the hut we had occupied. Oh, those fools, who thought to dictate orders to the second induna of the army of the Great King!
We did not even halt; but, instead of assailing us, a number of them rushed upon our slaves, and speared them under our eyes. Haul they fell, those unfortunate Amaholi, simply cut into strips. What happened then, Nkose, I scarcely knew. I saw red. We both “saw red.” The thunder of our fierce war shout frightened them as though it was the roar of a lion in their midst. I heard and felt the hiss of the King’s Assegai as it rushed through the body of the warrior nearest to me, splitting it nigh in twain. Then, as a buffet from my great shield sent another staggering, he, too, was devoured by the dark-handled spear. Whau, Nkose! I know not how many we slew. Leaping hither and thither, roaring like lions, we hewed our way; yet we were but two, and they were hundreds. They yielded before us, only to close up again immediately. Au! they had never seen Zulus in battle before. But even Zulus, being but two, cannot go on fighting all day against the might of a whole nation, and surrounded on all sides. We might kill a number, but our death was certain at last.
Now, of death we thought not at all, for in battle it is not our custom to think of aught beyond how many enemies we could kill. But to me came the thought that I would like to live, if only to assist in destroying the whole of this den of jackals. And I saw the means of attaining to that purpose.
“The wall, Mgwali!” I cried. “Through them – to the wall! We can hold that. It is our only chance.”
I spoke in Zulu, which they understood not. During the conflict we had been drawing nearer and nearer to the wall. Now, as we turned to face it, we were confronted by a double line of Bakoni. Their shields and spears were ready. We could not hope to break through them.
“Leap, Mgwali, leap!” I growled, feeling the searing burn of a spear blade grazing my shoulder. Covered by our shields, we gathered our legs under us, and leaped. Au! we could leap in those days. Right over the heads of the lines of our foes we flew, and immediately, and before they had time to recover their amaze, we had gained the shelter of the stone walls.
Not too soon, though, for we had only just time to turn and receive them, as a crowd of our enemies flung themselves against the opening. Then the King’s Assegai had meat to eat. Au! in a moment the opening was so filled up with bodies that they alone formed a defence; and, as I have said, the opening was narrow, and would only admit one man at a time.
The Bakoni fell back, yelling shrilly in their rage. We two were covered with blood from head to foot, and our spears were dripping. My brother had a deep spear-cut in his leg, from which the blood was welling in a manner I did not like. Both of us had other wounds, but slight, though a blow from an axe, which had been hurled at me, and which I had just warded off my ear, catching it on the elbow, had come near disabling my right arm. We put our heads above the wall and laughed at our cowardly enemies.
“Ha! dogs – jackals!” I cried. “Have you fought enough? We have not. Come now, and have some more. We are but two, you are a nation. Does the whole nation of the People of the Blue Cattle fear two men? What then will it do before the hosts of the Great King?”
And we took snuff, laughing loudly at this army of cowards, who dared not come within a certain distance of us.
“Wait there, black baboons! You are in a trap, ringed ape!” they cried, jeering at our darker colour. “You are trapped, like the tshukuru5 in the pit. We will spear you at our ease!” And a few assegais came whistling past our heads.
Then they hurled their spears up straight in the air, so they should fall back on our heads. But we only made houses of our shields, and laughed louder than ever, as the spears came down, “zip – zip,” like hailstones on the roof of a hut. We returned them to their owners, too, for we taught them that Zulu warriors, when it came to spear-throwing, had nothing to learn from any other race. This drove them back yet further, and we sat and rested, and sang the war-song of the King.
Our plan was to remain there until dark, then to make a dash through their lines, and this we had little fear of failing to accomplish, wherefore we felt no great concern now. But what puzzled us throughout was that Tauane should have treated the King’s messengers with violence, remembering how impressed he was upon our first visit to his country; and not until afterwards did we learn the true reason, which was this.
During the time he had been in our midst, the slave who had deserted us had learned that, great and formidable as our nation was, still it was a fugitive nation – that behind it was a greater, from whose vengeance we were fleeing. This he had imparted to Tauane, destroying in the minds of that chief and his councillors the terror which our name and appearance had at first inspired. A fleeing nation could not be a very formidable one, they reasoned, looking around upon the wealth and strength of their own settled and numerous people; and, accordingly, they resolved to meet Umzilikazi’s demands with quiet defiance, detaining, meanwhile, the persons of his messengers. Ah! they little knew, those poor fools – they little knew!
Time went by, and, secure behind our stone walls, we felt as though we should like to go to sleep. But we dared not do this – at any rate, not more than one of us at a time. We saw the people gathering, till it seemed that we were beleaguered by the whole Bakoni nation. To those who had first assailed us came other companies of warriors; and behind them women and children, all gazing eagerly at the “two black baboons,” as they called us, in a trap. Then a new move seemed to be taking place among them. A number of people were staggering under huge loads of reeds and dry bushes. We started up eagerly, for now we saw their plan. They intended to burn us out.
A wild yell of delight went up from the whole assembly as these loads of combustibles were borne forward from all sides. We had no means of stopping them. We had hurled back, generally with effect, nearly all the assegais which had been thrown inside the walls; besides, even had we not done so, the bodies of those who approached were so hidden by the loads they bore or pushed before them that they were quite shielded. Amid yells and shrieks of laughter the burdens were placed in a ring, close up against the walls, while more were fetched. It seemed that we were, indeed, as these dogs had said, like trapped rhinoceros.
The walls were of hard stone, and, of course, would not burn. But the mass of that flaming, glowing stuff was so enormous that the heat and smoke would be enough to smother us many times over. We took counsel together, and thought hard.
As I said before, Nkose, the construction of these walls was that of an inclosure within an inclosure, even like the plan of our own kraals. The centre space, ringed round by the outer wall, was large enough to contain perhaps threescore men, not standing very close together; the outer ring was only wide enough to allow one to stand at a time. There was just a single chance of escape.
The outside wall was now surrounded by a high fence of dry stuff – higher than a man’s head; and, amid a roar of delight from the thousands who were watching, we saw blue columns of smoke curling up from the circle all round. At the same time red tongues of flame shot forth, crackling shrilly as they licked among the dry thorns and grass. In a moment the heat became unbearable, engirdled, as we were, within a ring of flame; and the dense, choking volumes of smoke swept in upon us, blinding us completely.
“If we would not see the end of our lives, we must get within the inner wall, son of my father,” I said.
Mgwali uttered not a word. A great cloud of smoke beat down upon us, and, taking advantage of its folds, we climbed over the inner wall. As we did so the smoke-cloud parted, and in the flash of a glance we could see that the place was surrounded by a dense belt of Bakoni warriors, many ranks deep, watching the place in motionless attention, their spears and axes ready for us when we should attempt to break through, as they were sure we must. No; there was no escape that way.
Once within the inner wall, we found we could breathe more freely. The smoke rolled in its thick, choking fumes, but by crouching low to the ground we could still find air; but what air there was we knew was going: our senses were going, our heads grew hot, and our brain was throbbing as though to burst. Then there came for the first time a faint puff of air, followed by another less faint. We could see the sky above. The wind was rising. The smoke-clouds were dispersing. From that peril we were saved.
And now, as we crouched low in our place of refuge, it seemed to us that the voices of the multitude without had taken a different tone. We listened with wide ears. There was a hurrying to and fro of thousands of feet – of eager feet, of frightened feet. Then, raising our heads cautiously above the top of the wall, we peered forth.
The place was still engirdled by a ring of smouldering, glowing ashes, the heat from whose red caverns almost blinded us at first. The smoke had nearly all dispersed, and the whole of the plain stood revealed to our gaze. But the dense belt of armed warriors which we had last seen encompassing us had broken up, and its attention was but little given to us at all.
Every eye was bent upon the distant sky-line, which was bordered by a range of hills. From these the dust was now whirling in clouds, sweeping on rapidly towards us – nearer and nearer – and behind it still, black columns of smoke were mounting to the heavens. Our hearts were ready to burst with wild delight, for well did we know the meaning of this. But our enemies gazed upon it in blank and chill dismay, with hearts turned to water; for its meaning they, too, began to read, as was made clear by the wild hubbub of voices, some panic-stricken, but all eager, all excited. Then, with shrill shrieks, the women and children took flight in every direction.
On whirled the great dust-clouds, spreading over the plain afar on either hand, and through them appeared the tossing heads and horns of thousands and thousands of cattle, the sleek blue-coloured herds of the Bakoni. The ground rumbled like approaching thunder beneath their furious hoofs as they streamed madly forward. And behind them now was visible something else – a vast array of naked figures and of tufted shields, the blue gleam of wavy lines of spears. Regardless now of the danger from those around, we sprang on the wall and danced and shouted, jeering at those who just now were threatening us – the strength of a nation against two men!
“Ho, dogs! jackals! cowards!” we cried. “Flee now to your burrows. Yonder is the army of the Great King – the hand of the Great Great One, stretched forth to avenge his messengers.”
The immense herd of cattle had now divided, and was streaming off in the distance to right and to left, leaving in its place that mighty array of the conquerors of the world sweeping forward upon this doomed people who had been mad enough to defy their wrath.
