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diff --git a/1711-h/1711-h.htm b/1711-h/1711-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba232a3 --- /dev/null +++ b/1711-h/1711-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13475 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Child of Storm, by H. Rider Haggard</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Child of Storm, by H. Rider Haggard</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Child of Storm</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: H. Rider Haggard</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April, 1999 [eBook #1711]<br /> +[Most recently updated: February 15, 2021]</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Christopher Hapka and David Widger</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILD OF STORM ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> +</div> + +<h1>Child of Storm</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">by H. Rider Haggard</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref01">DEDICATION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#pref02">AUTHOR’S NOTE</a><br /><br /></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I. ALLAN QUATERMAIN HEARS OF MAMEENA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II. THE MOONSHINE OF ZIKALI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III. THE BUFFALO WITH THE CLEFT HORN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV. MAMEENA</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V. TWO BUCKS AND THE DOE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI. THE AMBUSH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII. SADUKO BRINGS THE MARRIAGE GIFT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII. THE KING’S DAUGHTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX. ALLAN RETURNS TO ZULULAND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X. THE SMELLING-OUT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI. THE SIN OF UMBELAZI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII. PANDA’S PRAYER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII. UMBELAZI THE FALLEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV. UMBEZI AND THE BLOOD ROYAL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV. MAMEENA CLAIMS THE KISS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI. MAMEENA—MAMEENA—MAMEENA!</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="pref01"></a>DEDICATION</h2> + +<p> +Dear Mr. Stuart, +</p> + +<p> +For twenty years, I believe I am right in saying, you, as Assistant Secretary +for Native Affairs in Natal, and in other offices, have been intimately +acquainted with the Zulu people. Moreover, you are one of the few living men +who have made a deep and scientific study of their language, their customs and +their history. So I confess that I was the more pleased after you were so good +as to read this tale—the second book of the epic of the vengeance of +Zikali, “the Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born,” and of the +fall of the House of Senzangakona<a href="#fn-1" name="fnref-1" id="fnref-1"><sup>[1]</sup></a>—when +you wrote to me that it was animated by the true Zulu spirit. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-1" id="fn-1"></a> <a href="#fnref-1">[1]</a> +“Marie” was the first. The third and final act in the drama is yet +to come. +</p> + +<p> +I must admit that my acquaintance with this people dates from a period which +closed almost before your day. What I know of them I gathered at the time when +Cetewayo, of whom my volume tells, was in his glory, previous to the evil hour +in which he found himself driven by the clamour of his regiments, cut off, as +they were, through the annexation of the Transvaal, from their hereditary trade +of war, to match himself against the British strength. I learned it all by +personal observation in the ‘seventies, or from the lips of the great +Shepstone, my chief and friend, and from my colleagues Osborn, Fynney, Clarke +and others, every one of them long since “gone down.” +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it may be as well that this is so, at any rate in the case of one who +desires to write of the Zulus as a reigning nation, which now they have ceased +to be, and to try to show them as they were, in all their superstitious madness +and bloodstained grandeur. +</p> + +<p> +Yet then they had virtues as well as vices. To serve their Country in arms, to +die for it and for the King; such was their primitive ideal. If they were +fierce they were loyal, and feared neither wounds nor doom; if they listened to +the dark redes of the witch-doctor, the trumpet-call of duty sounded still +louder in their ears; if, chanting their terrible “Ingoma,” at the +King’s bidding they went forth to slay unsparingly, at least they were +not mean or vulgar. From those who continually must face the last great issues +of life or death meanness and vulgarity are far removed. These qualities belong +to the safe and crowded haunts of civilised men, not to the kraals of Bantu +savages, where, at any rate of old, they might be sought in vain. +</p> + +<p> +Now everything is changed, or so I hear, and doubtless in the balance this is +best. Still we may wonder what are the thoughts that pass through the mind of +some ancient warrior of Chaka’s or Dingaan’s time, as he suns +himself crouched on the ground, for example, where once stood the royal kraal, +Duguza, and watches men and women of the Zulu blood passing homeward from the +cities or the mines, bemused, some of them, with the white man’s smuggled +liquor, grotesque with the white man’s cast-off garments, hiding, +perhaps, in their blankets examples of the white man’s doubtful +photographs—and then shuts his sunken eyes and remembers the plumed and +kilted regiments making that same ground shake as, with a thunder of salute, +line upon line, company upon company, they rushed out to battle. +</p> + +<p> +Well, because the latter does not attract me, it is of this former time that I +have tried to write—the time of the Impis and the witch-finders and the +rival princes of the royal House—as I am glad to learn from you, not +quite in vain. Therefore, since you, so great an expert, approve of my labours +in the seldom-travelled field of Zulu story, I ask you to allow me to set your +name upon this page and subscribe myself, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Gratefully and sincerely yours,<br /> +H. RIDER HAGGARD. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Ditchingham, 12<i>th October</i>, 1912. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +To James Stuart, Esq.,<br /> +<i>Late Assistant Secretary for Native Affairs, Natal.</i> +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="pref02"></a>AUTHOR’S NOTE</h2> + +<p> +Mr. Allan Quatermain’s story of the wicked and fascinating Mameena, a +kind of Zulu Helen, has, it should be stated, a broad foundation in historical +fact. Leaving Mameena and her wiles on one side, the tale of the struggle +between the Princes Cetewayo and Umbelazi for succession to the throne of +Zululand is true. +</p> + +<p> +When the differences between these sons of his became intolerable, because of +the tumult which they were causing in his country, King Panda, their father, +the son of Senzangakona, and the brother of the great Chaka and of Dingaan, who +had ruled before him, did say that “when two young bulls quarrel they had +better fight it out.” So, at least, I was told by the late Mr. F. B. +Fynney, my colleague at the time of the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877, +who, as Zulu Border Agent, with the exceptions of the late Sir Theophilus +Shepstone and the late Sir Melmoth Osborn, perhaps knew more of that land and +people than anyone else of his period. +</p> + +<p> +As a result of this hint given by a maddened king, the great battle of the +Tugela was fought at Endondakusuka in December, 1856, between the <i>Usutu</i> +party, commanded by Cetewayo, and the adherents of Umbelazi the Handsome, his +brother, who was known among the Zulus as +“<i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i>,” or the “Elephant with the +tuft of hair,” from a little lock of hair which grew low down upon his +back. +</p> + +<p> +My friend, Sir Melmoth Osborn, who died in or about the year 1897, was present +at this battle, although not as a combatant. Well do I remember his thrilling +story, told to me over thirty years ago, of the events of that awful day. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the morning, or during the previous night, I forget which, he swam his +horse across the Tugela and hid with it in a bush-clad kopje, blindfolding the +animal with his coat lest it should betray him. As it chanced, the great fight +of the day, that of the regiment of veterans, which Sir Melmoth informed me +Panda had sent down at the last moment to the assistance of Umbelazi, his +favourite son, took place almost at the foot of this kopje. Mr. Quatermain, in +his narrative, calls this regiment the Amawombe, but my recollection is that +the name Sir Melmoth Osborn gave them was “The Greys” or +<i>Upunga</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Whatever their exact title may have been, however, they made a great stand. At +least, he told me that when Umbelazi’s impi, or army, began to give +before the <i>Usutu</i> onslaught, these “Greys” moved forward +above 3,000 strong, drawn up in a triple line, and were charged by one of +Cetewayo’s regiments. +</p> + +<p> +The opposing forces met, and the noise of their clashing shields, said Sir +Melmoth, was like the roll of heavy thunder. Then, while he watched, the +veteran “Greys” passed over the opposing regiment “as a wave +passes over a rock”—these were his exact words—and, leaving +about a third of their number dead or wounded among the bodies of the +annihilated foe, charged on to meet a second regiment sent against them by +Cetewayo. With these the struggle was repeated, but again the +“Greys” conquered. Only now there were not more than five or six +hundred of them left upon their feet. +</p> + +<p> +These survivors ran to a mound, round which they formed a ring, and here for a +long while withstood the attack of a third regiment, until at length they +perished almost to a man, buried beneath heaps of their slain assailants, the +<i>Usutu</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Truly they made a noble end fighting thus against tremendous odds! +</p> + +<p> +As for the number who fell at this battle of Endondakusuka, Mr. Fynney, in a +pamphlet which he wrote, says that six of Umbelazi’s brothers died, +“whilst it is estimated that upwards of 100,000 of the people—men, +women and children—were slain”—a high and indeed an +impossible estimate. +</p> + +<p> +That curious personage named John Dunn, an Englishman who became a Zulu chief, +and who actually fought in this battle, as narrated by Mr. Quatermain, however, +puts the number much lower. What the true total was will never be known; but +Sir Melmoth Osborn told me that when he swam his horse back across the Tugela +that night it was black with bodies; and Sir Theophilus Shepstone also told me +that when he visited the scene a day or two later the banks of the river were +strewn with multitudes of them, male and female. +</p> + +<p> +It was from Mr. Fynney that I heard the story of the execution by Cetewayo of +the man who appeared before him with the ornaments of Umbelazi, announcing that +he had killed the prince with his own hand. Of course, this tale, as Mr. +Quatermain points out, bears a striking resemblance to that recorded in the Old +Testament in connection with the death of King Saul. +</p> + +<p> +It by no means follows, however, that it is therefore apocryphal; indeed, Mr. +Fynney assured me that it was quite true, although, if he gave me his +authorities, I cannot remember them after a lapse of more than thirty years. +</p> + +<p> +The exact circumstances of Umbelazi’s death are unknown, but the general +report was that he died, not by the assegais of the <i>Usutu</i>, but of a +broken heart. Another story declares that he was drowned. His body was never +found, and it is therefore probable that it sank in the Tugela, as is suggested +in the following pages. +</p> + +<p> +I have only to add that it is quite in accordance with Zulu beliefs that a man +should be haunted by the ghost of one whom he has murdered or betrayed, or, to +be more accurate, that the spirit (<i>umoya</i>) should enter into the slayer +and drive him mad. Or, in such a case, that spirit might bring misfortune upon +him, his family, or his tribe. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +H. RIDER HAGGARD. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>Chapter I.<br /> +ALLAN QUATERMAIN HEARS OF MAMEENA</h2> + +<p> +We white people think that we know everything. For instance, we think that we +understand human nature. And so we do, as human nature appears to us, with all +its trappings and accessories seen dimly through the glass of our conventions, +leaving out those aspects of it which we have forgotten or do not think it +polite to mention. But I, Allan Quatermain, reflecting upon these matters in my +ignorant and uneducated fashion, have always held that no one really +understands human nature who has not studied it in the rough. Well, that is the +aspect of it with which I have been best acquainted. +</p> + +<p> +For most of the years of my life I have handled the raw material, the virgin +ore, not the finished ornament that is smelted out of it—if, indeed, it +is finished yet, which I greatly doubt. I dare say that a time may come when +the perfected generations—if Civilisation, as we understand it, really +has a future and any such should be allowed to enjoy their hour on the +World—will look back to us as crude, half-developed creatures whose only +merit was that we handed on the flame of life. +</p> + +<p> +Maybe, maybe, for everything goes by comparison; and at one end of the ladder +is the ape-man, and at the other, as we hope, the angel. No, not the angel; he +belongs to a different sphere, but that last expression of humanity upon which +I will not speculate. While man is man—that is, before he suffers the +magical death-change into spirit, if such should be his destiny—well, he +will remain man. I mean that the same passions will sway him; he will aim at +the same ambitions; he will know the same joys and be oppressed by the same +fears, whether he lives in a Kafir hut or in a golden palace; whether he walks +upon his two feet or, as for aught I know he may do one day, flies through the +air. This is certain: that in the flesh he can never escape from our +atmosphere, and while he breathes it, in the main with some variations +prescribed by climate, local law and religion, he will do much as his +forefathers did for countless ages. +</p> + +<p> +That is why I have always found the savage so interesting, for in him, nakedly +and forcibly expressed, we see those eternal principles which direct our human +destiny. +</p> + +<p> +To descend from these generalities, that is why also I, who hate writing, have +thought it worth while, at the cost of some labour to myself, to occupy my +leisure in what to me is a strange land—for although I was born in +England, it is not my country—in setting down various experiences of my +life that do, in my opinion, interpret this our universal nature. I dare say +that no one will ever read them; still, perhaps they are worthy of record, and +who knows? In days to come they may fall into the hands of others and prove of +value. At any rate, they are true stories of interesting peoples, who, if they +should survive in the savage competition of the nations, probably are doomed to +undergo great changes. Therefore I tell of them before they began to change. +</p> + +<p> +Now, although I take it out of its strict chronological order, the first of +these histories that I wish to preserve is in the main that of an extremely +beautiful woman—with the exception of a certain Nada, called “the +Lily,” of whom I hope to speak some day, I think the most beautiful that +ever lived among the Zulus. Also she was, I think, the most able, the most +wicked, and the most ambitious. Her attractive name—for it was very +attractive as the Zulus said it, especially those of them who were in love with +her—was Mameena, daughter of Umbezi. Her other name was Child of Storm +(<i>Ingane-ye-Sipepo</i>, or, more freely and shortly, <i>O-we-Zulu</i>), but +the word “Ma-mee-na” had its origin in the sound of the wind that +wailed about the hut when she was born.<a href="#fn-1.1" name="fnref-1.1" id="fnref-1.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-1.1" id="fn-1.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-1.1">[1]</a> +The Zulu word <i>Meena</i>—or more correctly <i>Mina</i>—means +“Come here,” and would therefore be a name not unsuitable to one of +the heroine’s proclivities; but Mr. Quatermain does not seem to accept +this interpretation.—E<small>DITOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +Since I have been settled in England I have read—of course in a +translation—the story of Helen of Troy, as told by the Greek poet, Homer. +Well, Mameena reminds me very much of Helen, or, rather, Helen reminds me of +Mameena. At any rate, there was this in common between them, although one of +them was black, or, rather, copper-coloured, and the other white—they +both were lovely; moreover, they both were faithless, and brought men by +hundreds to their deaths. There, perhaps, the resemblance ends, since Mameena +had much more fire and grit than Helen could boast, who, unless Homer +misrepresents her, must have been but a poor thing after all. Beauty Itself, +which those old rascals of Greek gods made use of to bait their snares set for +the lives and honour of men, such was Helen, no more; that is, as I understand +her, who have not had the advantage of a classical education. Now, Mameena, +although she was superstitious—a common weakness of great +minds—acknowledging no gods in particular, as we understand them, set her +own snares, with varying success but a very definite object, namely, that of +becoming the first woman in the world as she knew it—the stormy, +bloodstained world of the Zulus. +</p> + +<p> +But the reader shall judge for himself, if ever such a person should chance to +cast his eye upon this history. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was in the year 1854 that I first met Mameena, and my acquaintance with her +continued off and on until 1856, when it came to an end in a fashion that shall +be told after the fearful battle of the Tugela in which Umbelazi, Panda’s +son and Cetewayo’s brother—who, to his sorrow, had also met +Mameena—lost his life. I was still a youngish man in those days, although +I had already buried my second wife, as I have told elsewhere, after our brief +but happy time of marriage. +</p> + +<p> +Leaving my boy in charge of some kind people in Durban, I started into +“the Zulu”—a land with which I had already become well +acquainted as a youth, there to carry on my wild life of trading and hunting. +</p> + +<p> +For the trading I never cared much, as may be guessed from the little that ever +I made out of it, the art of traffic being in truth repugnant to me. But +hunting was always the breath of my nostrils—not that I am fond of +killing creatures, for any humane man soon wearies of slaughter. No, it is the +excitement of sport, which, before breechloaders came in, was acute enough, I +can assure you; the lonely existence in wild places, often with only the sun +and the stars for companions; the continual adventures; the strange tribes with +whom I came in contact; in short, the change, the danger, the hope always of +finding something great and new, that attracted and still attracts me, even now +when I <i>have</i> found the great and the new. There, I must not go on writing +like this, or I shall throw down my pen and book a passage for Africa, and +incidentally to the next world, no doubt—that world of the great and new! +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +It was, I think, in the month of May in the year 1854 that I went hunting in +rough country between the White and Black Umvolosi Rivers, by permission of +Panda—whom the Boers had made king of Zululand after the defeat and death +of Dingaan his brother. The district was very feverish, and for this reason I +had entered it in the winter months. There was so much bush that, in the total +absence of roads, I thought it wise not to attempt to bring my wagons down, and +as no horses would live in that veld I went on foot. My principal companions +were a Kafir of mixed origin, called Sikauli, commonly abbreviated into Scowl, +the Zulu chief Saduko, and a headman of the Undwandwe blood named Umbezi, at +whose kraal on the high land about thirty miles away I left my wagon and +certain of my men in charge of the goods and some ivory that I had traded. +</p> + +<p> +This Umbezi was a stout and genial-mannered man of about sixty years of age, +and, what is rare among these people, one who loved sport for its own sake. +Being aware of his tastes, also that he knew the country and was skilled in +finding game, I had promised him a gun if he would accompany me and bring a few +hunters. It was a particularly bad gun that had seen much service, and one +which had an unpleasing habit of going off at half-cock; but even after he had +seen it, and I in my honesty had explained its weaknesses, he jumped at the +offer. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana” (that is my native name, often abbreviated into +Macumazahn, which means “One who stands out,” or as many interpret +it, I don’t know how, “Watcher-by-Night”)—“a gun +that goes off sometimes when you do not expect it is much better than no gun at +all, and you are a chief with a great heart to promise it to me, for when I own +the White Man’s weapon I shall be looked up to and feared by everyone +between the two rivers.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, while he was speaking he handled the gun, that was loaded, observing which +I moved behind him. Off it went in due course, its recoil knocking him +backwards—for that gun was a devil to kick—and its bullet cutting +the top off the ear of one of his wives. The lady fled screaming, leaving a +little bit of her ear upon the ground. +</p> + +<p> +“What does it matter?” said Umbezi, as he picked himself up, +rubbing his shoulder with a rueful look. “Would that the evil spirit in +the gun had cut off her tongue and not her ear! It is the +Worn-out-Old-Cow’s own fault; she is always peeping into everything like +a monkey. Now she will have something to chatter about and leave my things +alone for awhile. I thank my ancestral Spirit it was not Mameena, for then her +looks would have been spoiled.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who is Mameena?” I asked. “Your last wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Macumazahn; I wish she were, for then I should have the most +beautiful wife in the land. She is my daughter, though not that of the +Worn-out-Old-Cow; her mother died when she was born, on the night of the Great +Storm. You should ask Saduko there who Mameena is,” he added with a broad +grin, lifting his head from the gun, which he was examining gingerly, as though +he thought it might go off again while unloaded, and nodding towards someone +who stood behind him. +</p> + +<p> +I turned, and for the first time saw Saduko, whom I recognised at once as a +person quite out of the ordinary run of natives. +</p> + +<p> +He was a tall and magnificently formed young man, who, although his breast was +scarred with assegai wounds, showing that he was a warrior, had not yet +attained to the honour of the “ring” of polished wax laid over +strips of rush bound round with sinew and sewn to the hair, the <i>isicoco</i> +which at a certain age or dignity, determined by the king, Zulus are allowed to +assume. But his face struck me more even than his grace, strength and stature. +Undoubtedly it was a very fine face, with little or nothing of the negroid type +about it; indeed, he might have been a rather dark-coloured Arab, to which +stock he probably threw back. The eyes, too, were large and rather melancholy, +and in his reserved, dignified air there was something that showed him to be no +common fellow, but one of breeding and intellect. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i> (that is, “we see you,” <i>anglice</i> +“good morrow”) “Saduko,” I said, eyeing him curiously. +“Tell me, who is Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>,” he answered in his deep voice, lifting his +delicately shaped hand in salutation, a courtesy that pleased me who, after +all, was nothing but a white hunter, “<i>Inkoosi</i>, has not her father +said that she is his daughter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” answered the jolly old Umbezi, “but what her father +has not said is that Saduko is her lover, or, rather, would like to be. +<i>Wow!</i> Saduko,” he went on, shaking his fat finger at him, +“are you mad, man, that you think a girl like that is for you? Give me a +hundred cattle, not one less, and I will begin to think of it. Why, you have +not ten, and Mameena is my eldest daughter, and must marry a rich man.” +</p> + +<p> +“She loves me, O Umbezi,” answered Saduko, looking down, “and +that is more than cattle.” +</p> + +<p> +“For you, perhaps, Saduko, but not for me who am poor and want cows. +Also,” he added, glancing at him shrewdly, “are you so sure that +Mameena loves you though you be such a fine man? Now, I should have thought +that whatever her eyes may say, her heart loves no one but herself, and that in +the end she will follow her heart and not her eyes. Mameena the beautiful does +not seek to be a poor man’s wife and do all the hoeing. But bring me the +hundred cattle and we will see, for, speaking truth from my heart, if you were +a big chief there is no one I should like better as a son-in-law, unless it +were Macumazahn here,” he said, digging me in the ribs with his elbow, +“who would lift up my House on his white back.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, at this speech Saduko shifted his feet uneasily; it seemed to me as though +he felt there was truth in Umbezi’s estimate of his daughter’s +character. But he only said: +</p> + +<p> +“Cattle can be acquired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or stolen,” suggested Umbezi. +</p> + +<p> +“Or taken in war,” corrected Saduko. “When I have a hundred +head I will hold you to your word, O father of Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then what would you live on, fool, if you gave all your beasts to +me? There, there, cease talking wind. Before you have a hundred head of cattle +Mameena will have six children who will not call <i>you</i> father. Ah, +don’t you like that? Are you going away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I am going,” he answered, with a flash of his quiet eyes; +“only then let the man whom they do call father beware of Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +“Beware of how you talk, young man,” said Umbezi in a grave voice. +“Would you travel your father’s road? I hope not, for I like you +well; but such words are apt to be remembered.” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko walked away as though he did not hear. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is he?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“One of high blood,” answered Umbezi shortly. “He might be a +chief to-day had not his father been a plotter and a wizard. Dingaan smelt him +out”—and he made a sideways motion with his hand that among the +Zulus means much. “Yes, they were killed, almost every one; the chief, +his wives, his children and his headmen—every one except Chosa his +brother and his son Saduko, whom Zikali the dwarf, the +Smeller-out-of-evil-doers, the Ancient, who was old before Senzangakona became +a father of kings, hid him. There, that is an evil tale to talk of,” and +he shivered. “Come, White Man, and doctor that old Cow of mine, or she +will give me no peace for months.” +</p> + +<p> +So I went to see the Worn-out-Old-Cow—not because I had any particular +interest in her, for, to tell the truth, she was a very disagreeable and +antique person, the cast-off wife of some chief whom at an unknown date in the +past the astute Umbezi had married from motives of policy—but because I +hoped to hear more of Miss Mameena, in whom I had become interested. +</p> + +<p> +Entering a large hut, I found the lady so impolitely named “the Old +Cow” in a parlous state. There she lay upon the floor, an unpleasant +object because of the blood that had escaped from her wound, surrounded by a +crowd of other women and of children. At regular intervals she announced that +she was dying, and emitted a fearful yell, whereupon all the audience yelled +also; in short, the place was a perfect pandemonium. +</p> + +<p> +Telling Umbezi to get the hut cleared, I said that I would go to fetch my +medicines. Meanwhile I ordered my servant, Scowl, a humorous-looking fellow, +light yellow in hue, for he had a strong dash of Hottentot in his composition, +to cleanse the wound. When I returned from the wagon ten minutes later the +screams were more terrible than before, although the chorus now stood without +the hut. Nor was this altogether wonderful, for on entering the place I found +Scowl trimming up “the Old Cow’s” ear with a pair of blunt +nail-scissors. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” said Umbezi in a hoarse whisper, “might it +not perhaps be as well to leave her alone? If she bled to death, at any rate +she would be quieter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a man or a hyena?” I answered sternly, and set about the +job, Scowl holding the poor woman’s head between his knees. +</p> + +<p> +It was over at length; a simple operation in which I exhibited—I believe +that is the medical term—a strong solution of caustic applied with a +feather. +</p> + +<p> +“There, Mother,” I said, for now we were alone in the hut, whence +Scowl had fled, badly bitten in the calf, “you won’t die +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you vile White Man,” she sobbed. “I shan’t die, +but how about my beauty?” +</p> + +<p> +“It will be greater than ever,” I answered; “no one else will +have an ear with such a curve in it. But, talking of beauty, where is +Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know where she is,” she replied with fury, +“but I very well know where she would be if I had my way. That peeled +willow-wand of a girl”—here she added certain descriptive epithets +I will not repeat—“has brought this misfortune upon me. We had a +slight quarrel yesterday, White Man, and, being a witch as she is, she +prophesied evil. Yes, when by accident I scratched her ear, she said that +before long mine should burn, and surely burn it does.” (This, no doubt, +was true, for the caustic had begun to bite.) +</p> + +<p> +“O devil of a White Man,” she went on, “you have bewitched +me; you have filled my head with fire.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she seized an earthenware pot and hurled it at me, saying, “Take +that for your doctor-fee. Go, crawl after Mameena like the others and get her +to doctor you.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time I was half through the bee-hole of the hut, my movements being +hastened by a vessel of hot water which landed on me behind. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter, Macumazahn?” asked old Umbezi, who was waiting +outside. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all, friend,” I answered with a sweet smile, +“except that your wife wants to see you at once. She is in pain, and +wishes you to soothe her. Go in; do not hesitate.” +</p> + +<p> +After a moment’s pause he went in—that is, half of him went in. +Then came a fearful crash, and he emerged again with the rim of a pot about his +neck and his countenance veiled in a coating of what I took to be honey. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Mameena?” I asked him as he sat up spluttering. +</p> + +<p> +“Where I wish I was,” he answered in a thick voice; “at a +kraal five hours’ journey away.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, that was the first I heard of Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +That night as I sat smoking my pipe under the flap lean-to attached to the +wagon, laughing to myself over the adventure of “the Old Cow,” +falsely described as “worn out,” and wondering whether Umbezi had +got the honey out of his hair, the canvas was lifted, and a Kafir wrapped in a +kaross crept in and squatted before me. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you?” I asked, for it was too dark to see the man’s +face. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>,” answered a deep voice, “I am Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are welcome,” I answered, handing him a little gourd of snuff +in token of hospitality. Then I waited while he poured some of the snuff into +the palm of his hand and took it in the usual fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>,” he said, when he had scraped away the tears +produced by the snuff, “I have come to ask you a favour. You heard Umbezi +say to-day that he will not give me his daughter, Mameena, unless I give him a +hundred head of cows. Now, I have not got the cattle, and I cannot earn them by +work in many years. Therefore I must take them from a certain tribe I know +which is at war with the Zulus. But this I cannot do unless I have a gun. If I +had a good gun, <i>Inkoosi</i>—one that only goes off when it is asked, +and not of its own fancy, I who have some name could persuade a number of men +whom I know, who once were servants of my father, or their sons, to be my +companions in this venture.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do I understand that you wish me to give you one of my good guns with +two mouths to it (i.e. double-barrelled), a gun worth at least twelve oxen, for +nothing, O Saduko?” I asked in a cold and scandalised voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, O Watcher-by-Night,” he answered; “not so, O +He-who-sleeps-with-one-eye-open” (another free and difficult rendering of +my native name, Macumazahn, or more correctly, Macumazana)—“I +should never dream of offering such an insult to your high-born +intelligence.” He paused and took another pinch of snuff, then went on in +a meditative voice: “Where I propose to get those hundred cattle there +are many more; I am told not less than a thousand head in all. Now, +<i>Inkoosi</i>,” he added, looking at me sideways, “suppose you +gave me the gun I ask for, and suppose you accompanied me with your own gun and +your armed hunters, it would be fair that you should have half the cattle, +would it not?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s cool,” I said. “So, young man, you want to turn +me into a cow-thief and get my throat cut by Panda for breaking the peace of +his country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither, Macumazahn, for these are my own cattle. Listen, now, and I +will tell you a story. You have heard of Matiwane, the chief of the +Amangwane?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered. “His tribe lived near the head of the +Umzinyati, did they not? Then they were beaten by the Boers or the English, and +Matiwane came under the Zulus. But afterwards Dingaan wiped him out, with his +House, and now his people are killed or scattered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, his people are killed and scattered, but his House still lives. +Macumazahn, I am his House, I, the only son of his chief wife, for Zikali the +Wise Little One, the Ancient, who is of the Amangwane blood, and who hated +Chaka and Dingaan—yes, and Senzangakona their father before them, but +whom none of them could kill because he is so great and has such mighty spirits +for his servants, saved and sheltered me.” +</p> + +<p> +“If he is so great, why, then, did he not save your father also, +Saduko?” I asked, as though I knew nothing of this Zikali. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot say, Macumazahn. Perhaps the spirits plant a tree for +themselves, and to do so cut down many other trees. At least, so it happened. +It happened thus: Bangu, chief of the Amakoba, whispered into Dingaan’s +ear that Matiwane, my father, was a wizard; also that he was very rich. Dingaan +listened because he thought a sickness that he had came from Matiwane’s +witchcraft. He said: ‘Go, Bangu, and take a company with you and pay +Matiwane a visit of honour, and in the night, O in the night! Afterwards, +Bangu, we will divide the cattle, for Matiwane is strong and clever, and you +shall not risk your life for nothing.’” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko paused and looked down at the ground, brooding heavily. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn, it was done,” he said presently. “They ate my +father’s meat, they drank his beer; they gave him a present from the +king, they praised him with high names; yes, Bangu took snuff with him and +called him brother. Then in the night, O in the night—! +</p> + +<p> +“My father was in the hut with my mother, and I, so big +only”—and he held his hand at the height of a boy of +ten—“was with them. The cry arose, the flames began to eat; my +father looked out and saw. ‘Break through the fence and away, +woman,’ he said; ‘away with Saduko, that he may live to avenge me. +Begone while I hold the gate! Begone to Zikali, for whose witchcrafts I pay +with my blood.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then he kissed me on the brow, saying but one word, +‘Remember,’ and thrust us from the hut. +</p> + +<p> +“My mother broke a way through the fence; yes, she tore at it with her +nails and teeth like a hyena. I looked back out of the shadow of the hut and +saw Matiwane my father fighting like a buffalo. Men went down before him, one, +two, three, although he had no shield: only his spear. Then Bangu crept behind +him and stabbed him in the back and he threw up his arms and fell. I saw no +more, for by now we were through the fence. We ran, but they perceived us. They +hunted us as wild dogs hunt a buck. They killed my mother with a throwing +assegai; it entered at her back and came out at her heart. I went mad, I drew +it from her body, I ran at them. I dived beneath the shield of the first, a +very tall man, and held the spear, so, in both my little hands. His weight came +upon its point and it went through him as though he were but a bowl of +buttermilk. Yes, he rolled over, quite dead, and the handle of the spear broke +upon the ground. Now the others stopped astonished, for never had they seen +such a thing. That a child should kill a tall warrior, oh! that tale had not +been told. Some of them would have let me go, but just then Bangu came up and +saw the dead man, who was his brother. +</p> + +<p> +“‘<i>Wow!</i>’ he said when he knew how the man had died. +‘This lion’s cub is a wizard also, for how else could he have +killed a soldier who has known war? Hold out his arms that I may finish him +slowly.’ +</p> + +<p> +“So two of them held out my arms, and Bangu came up with his +spear.” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko ceased speaking, not that his tale was done, but because his voice +choked in his throat. Indeed, seldom have I seen a man so moved. He breathed in +great gasps, the sweat poured from him, and his muscles worked convulsively. I +gave him a pannikin of water and he drank, then he went on: +</p> + +<p> +“Already the spear had begun to prick—look, here is the mark of +it”—and opening his kaross he pointed to a little white line just +below the breast-bone—“when a strange shadow thrown by the fire of +the burning huts came between Bangu and me, a shadow as that of a toad standing +on its hind legs. I looked round and saw that it was the shadow of Zikali, whom +I had seen once or twice. There he stood, though whence he came I know not, +wagging his great white head that sits on the top of his body like a pumpkin on +an ant-heap, rolling his big eyes and laughing loudly. +</p> + +<p> +“‘A merry sight,’ he cried in his deep voice that sounded +like water in a hollow cave. ‘A merry sight, O Bangu, Chief of the +Amakoba! Blood, blood, plenty of blood! Fire, fire, plenty of fire! Wizards +dead here, there, and everywhere! Oh, a merry sight! I have seen many such; one +at the kraal of your grandmother, for instance—your grandmother the great +<i>Inkosikazi</i>, when myself I escaped with my life because I was so old; but +never do I remember a merrier than that which this moon shines on,’ and +he pointed to the White Lady who just then broke through the clouds. +‘But, great Chief Bangu, lord loved by the son of Senzangakona, brother +of the Black One (Chaka) who has ridden hence on the assegai, what is the +meaning of <i>this</i> play?’ and he pointed to me and to the two +soldiers who held out my little arms. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I kill the wizard’s cub, Zikali, that is all,’ +answered Bangu. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I see, I see,’ laughed Zikali. ‘A gallant deed! You +have butchered the father and the mother, and now you would butcher the child +who has slain one of your grown warriors in fair fight. A very gallant deed, +well worthy of the chief of the Amakoba! Well, loose his +spirit—only—’ He stopped and took a pinch of snuff from a box +which he drew from a slit in the lobe of his great ear. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Only what?’ asked Bangu, hesitating. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Only I wonder, Bangu, what you will think of the world in which +you will find yourself before to-morrow’s moon arises. Come back thence +and tell me, Bangu, for there are so many worlds beyond the sun, and I would +learn for certain which of them such a one as you inhabits: a man who for +hatred and for gain murders the father and the mother and then butchers the +child—the child that could slay a warrior who has seen war—with the +spear hot from his mother’s heart.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Do you mean that I shall die if I kill this lad?’ shouted +Bangu in a great voice. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What else?’ answered Zikali, taking another pinch of snuff. +</p> + +<p> +“‘This, Wizard; that we will go together.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Good, good!’ laughed the dwarf. ‘Let us go together. +Long have I wished to die, and what better companion could I find than Bangu, +Chief of the Amakoba, Slayer of Children, to guard me on a dark and terrible +road. Come, brave Bangu, come; kill me if you can,’ and again he laughed +at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Macumazahn, the people of Bangu fell back muttering, for they found +this business horrible. Yes, even those who held my arms let go of them. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What will happen to me, Wizard, if I spare the boy?’ asked +Bangu. +</p> + +<p> +“Zikali stretched out his hand and touched the scratch that the assegai +had made in me here. Then he held up his finger red with my blood, and looked +at it in the light of the moon; yes, and tasted it with his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I think this will happen to you, Bangu,’ he said. ‘If +you spare this boy he will grow into a man who will kill you and many others +one day. But if you do not spare him I think that his spirit, working as +spirits can do, will kill you to-morrow. Therefore the question is, will you +live a while or will you die at once, taking me with you as your companion? For +you must not leave me behind, brother Bangu.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Now Bangu turned and walked away, stepping over the body of my mother, +and all his people walked away after him, so that presently Zikali the Wise and +Little and I were left alone. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What! have they gone?’ said Zikali, lifting up his eyes +from the ground. ‘Then we had better be going also, Son of Matiwane, lest +he should change his mind and come back. Live on, Son of Matiwane, that you may +avenge Matiwane.’” +</p> + +<p> +“A nice tale,” I said. “But what happened afterwards?” +</p> + +<p> +“Zikali took me away and nurtured me at his kraal in the Black Kloof, +where he lived alone save for his servants, for in that kraal he would suffer +no woman to set foot, Macumazahn. He taught me much wisdom and many secret +things, and would have made a great doctor of me had I so willed. But I willed +it not who find spirits ill company, and there are many of them about the Black +Kloof, Macumazahn. So in the end he said: ‘Go where your heart calls, and +be a warrior, Saduko. But know this: You have opened a door that can never be +shut again, and across the threshold of that door spirits will pass in and out +for all your life, whether you seek them or seek them not.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘It was you who opened the door, Zikali,’ I answered +angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Mayhap,’ said Zikali, laughing after his fashion, +‘for I open when I must and shut when I must. Indeed, in my youth, before +the Zulus were a people, they named me Opener of Doors; and now, looking +through one of those doors, I see something about you, O Son of +Matiwane.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘What do you see, my father?’ I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“‘I see two roads, Saduko: the Road of Medicine, that is the spirit +road, and the Road of Spears, that is the blood road. I see you travelling on +the Road of Medicine, that is my own road, Saduko, and growing wise and great, +till at last, far, far away, you vanish over the precipice to which it leads, +full of years and honour and wealth, feared yet beloved by all men, white and +black. Only that road you must travel alone, since such wisdom may have no +friends, and, above all, no woman to share its secrets. Then I look at the Road +of Spears and see you, Saduko, travelling on that road, and your feet are red +with blood, and women wind their arms about your neck, and one by one your +enemies go down before you. You love much, and sin much for the sake of the +love, and she for whom you sin comes and goes and comes again. And the road is +short, Saduko, and near the end of it are many spirits; and though you shut +your eyes you see them, and though you fill your ears with clay you hear them, +for they are the ghosts of your slain. But the end of your journeying I see +not. Now choose which road you will, Son of Matiwane, and choose swiftly, for I +speak no more of this matter.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Then, Macumazahn, I thought a while of the safe and lonely path of +wisdom, also of the blood-red path of spears where I should find love and war, +and my youth rose up in me and—I chose the path of spears and the love +and the sin and the unknown death.” +</p> + +<p> +“A foolish choice, Saduko, supposing that there is any truth in this tale +of roads, which there is not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, a wise one, Macumazahn, for since then I have seen Mameena and know +why I chose that path.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” I said. “Mameena—I forgot her. Well, after all, +perhaps there is some truth in your tale of roads. When <i>I</i> have seen +Mameena I will tell you what I think.” +</p> + +<p> +“When you have seen Mameena, Macumazahn, you will say that the choice was +very wise. Well, Zikali, Opener of Doors, laughed loudly when he heard it. +‘The ox seeks the fat pasture, but the young bull the rough mountainside +where the heifers graze,’ he said; ‘and after all, a bull is better +than an ox. Now begin to travel your own road, Son of Matiwane, and from time +to time return to the Black Kloof and tell me how it fares with you. I will +promise you not to die before I know the end of it.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Macumazahn, I have told you things that hitherto have lived in my +own heart only. And, Macumazahn, Bangu is in ill favour with Panda, whom he +defies in his mountain, and I have a promise—never mind how—that he +who kills him will be called to no account and may keep his cattle. Will you +come with me and share those cattle, O Watcher-by-Night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Get thee behind me, Satan,” I said in English, then added in Zulu: +“I don’t know. If your story is true I should have no objection to +helping to kill Bangu; but I must learn lots more about this business first. +Meanwhile I am going on a shooting trip to-morrow with Umbezi the Fat, and I +like you, O Chooser of the Road of Spears and Blood. Will you be my companion +and earn the gun with two mouths in payment?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>,” he said, lifting his hand in salute with a flash +of his dark eyes, “you are generous, you honour me. What is there that I +should love better? Yet,” he added, and his face fell, “first I +must ask Zikali the Little, Zikali my foster-father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” I said, “so you are still tied to the Wizard’s +girdle, are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, Macumazahn; but I promised him not long ago that I would +undertake no enterprise, save that you know of, until I had spoken with +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“How far off does Zikali live?” I asked Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“One day’s journeying. Starting at sunrise I can be there by +sunset.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! Then I will put off the shooting for three days and come with you +if you think that this wonderful old dwarf will receive me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe that he will, Macumazahn, for this reason—he told me +that I should meet you and love you, and that you would be mixed up in my +fortunes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he poured moonshine into your gourd instead of beer,” I +answered. “Would you keep me here till midnight listening to such +foolishness when we must start at dawn? Begone now and let me sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“I go,” he answered with a little smile. “But if this is so, +O Macumazana, why do you also wish to drink of the moonshine of Zikali?” +and he went. +</p> + +<p> +Yet I did not sleep very well that night, for Saduko and his strange and +terrible story had taken a hold of my imagination. Also, for reasons of my own, +I greatly wished to see this Zikali, of whom I had heard a great deal in past +years. I wished further to find out if he was a common humbug, like so many +witch-doctors, this dwarf who announced that my fortunes were mixed up with +those of his foster-son, and who at least could tell me something true or false +about the history and position of Bangu, a person for whom I had conceived a +strong dislike, possibly quite unjustified by the facts. But more than all did +I wish to see Mameena, whose beauty or talents produced so much impression upon +the native mind. Perhaps if I went to see Zikali she would be back at her +father’s kraal before we started on our shooting trip. +</p> + +<p> +Thus it was then that fate wove me and my doings into the web of some very +strange events; terrible, tragic and complete indeed as those of a Greek play, +as it has often done both before and since those days. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>Chapter II.<br /> +THE MOONSHINE OF ZIKALI</h2> + +<p> +On the following morning I awoke, as a good hunter always should do, just at +that time when, on looking out of the wagon, nothing can be seen but a little +grey glint of light which he knows is reflected from the horns of the cattle +tied to the trek-tow. Presently, however, I saw another glint of light which I +guessed came from the spear of Saduko, who was seated by the ashes of the +cooking fire wrapped in his kaross of wildcat skins. Slipping from the +<i>voorkisse</i>, or driving-box, I came behind him softly and touched him on +the shoulder. He leapt up with a start which revealed his nervous nature, then +recognising me through the soft grey gloom, said: +</p> + +<p> +“You are early, Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” I answered; “am I not named Watcher-by-Night? +Now let us go to Umbezi and tell him that I shall be ready to start on our +hunting trip on the third morning from to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +So we went, to find that Umbezi was in a hut with his last wife and asleep. +Fortunately enough, however, as under the circumstances I did not wish to +disturb him, outside the hut we found the Old Cow, whose sore ear had kept her +very wide awake, who, for purposes of her own, although etiquette did not allow +her to enter the hut, was waiting for her husband to emerge. +</p> + +<p> +Having examined her wound and rubbed some ointment on it, with her I left my +message. Next I woke up my servant Scowl, and told him that I was going on a +short journey, and that he must guard all things until my return; and while I +did so, took a nip of raw rum and made ready a bag of biltong, that is +sun-dried flesh, and biscuits. +</p> + +<p> +Then, taking with me a single-barrelled gun, that same little Purdey rifle with +which I shot the vultures on the Hill of Slaughter at Dingaan’s Kraal,<a +href="#fn-2.1" name="fnref-2.1" id="fnref-2.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> we started on +foot, for I would not risk my only horse on such a journey. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2.1" id="fn-2.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-2.1">[1]</a> +For the story of this shooting of the vultures by Allan Quatermain, see the +book called “Marie.”—E<small>DITOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +A rough journey it proved to be indeed, over a series of bush-clad hills that +at their crests were covered with rugged stones among which no horse could have +travelled. Up and down these hills we went, and across the valleys that divided +them, following some path which I could not see, for all that live-long day. I +have always been held a good walker, being by nature very light and active; but +I am bound to say that my companion taxed my powers to the utmost, for on he +marched for hour after hour, striding ahead of me at such a rate that at times +I was forced to break into a run to keep up with him. Although my pride would +not suffer me to complain, since as a matter of principle I would never admit +to a Kafir that he was my master at anything, glad enough was I when, towards +evening, Saduko sat himself down on a stone at the top of a hill and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Behold the Black Kloof, Macumazahn,” which were almost the first +words he had uttered since we started. +</p> + +<p> +Truly the spot was well named, for there, cut out by water from the heart of a +mountain in some primeval age, lay one of the most gloomy places that ever I +had beheld. It was a vast cleft in which granite boulders were piled up +fantastically, perched one upon another in great columns, and upon its sides +grew dark trees set sparsely among the rocks. It faced towards the west, but +the light of the sinking sun that flowed up it served only to accentuate its +vast loneliness, for it was a big cleft, the best part of a mile wide at its +mouth. +</p> + +<p> +Up this dreary gorge we marched, mocked at by chattering baboons and following +a little path not a foot wide that led us at length to a large hut and several +smaller ones set within a reed fence and overhung by a gigantic mass of rock +that looked as though it might fall at any moment. At the gate of the fence two +natives of I know not what tribe, men of fierce and forbidding appearance, +suddenly sprang out and thrust their spears towards my breast. +</p> + +<p> +“Whom bring you here, Saduko?” asked one of them sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“A white man that I vouch for,” he answered. “Tell Zikali +that we wait on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“What need to tell Zikali that which he knows already?” said the +sentry. “Your food and that of your companion is already cooked in yonder +hut. Enter, Saduko, with him for whom you vouch.” +</p> + +<p> +So we went into the hut and ate, also I washed myself, for it was a beautifully +clean hut, and the stools, wooden bowls, etc., were finely carved out of red +ivory wood, this work, Saduko informed me, being done by Zikali’s own +hand. Just as we were finishing our meal a messenger came to tell us that +Zikali waited our presence. We followed him across an open space to a kind of +door in the tall reed fence, passing which I set eyes for the first time upon +the famous old witch-doctor of whom so many tales were told. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly he was a curious sight in those strange surroundings, for they were +very strange, and I think their complete simplicity added to the effect. In +front of us was a kind of courtyard with a black floor made of polished +ant-heap earth and cow-dung, two-thirds of which at least was practically +roofed in by the huge over-hanging mass of rock whereof I have spoken, its arch +bending above at a height of not less than sixty or seventy feet from the +ground. Into this great, precipice-backed cavity poured the fierce light of the +setting sun, turning it and all within it, even the large straw hut in the +background, to the deep hue of blood. Seeing the wonderful effect of the sunset +in that dark and forbidding place, it occurred to me at once that the old +wizard must have chosen this moment to receive us because of its +impressiveness. +</p> + +<p> +Then I forgot these scenic accessories in the sight of the man himself. There +he sat on a stool in front of his hut, quite unattended, and wearing only a +cloak of leopard skins open in front, for he was unadorned with the usual +hideous trappings of a witch-doctor, such as snake-skins, human bones, bladders +full of unholy compounds, and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +What a man he was, if indeed he could be called quite human. His stature, +though stout, was only that of a child; his head was enormous, and from it +plaited white hair fell down on to his shoulders. His eyes were deep and +sunken, his face was broad and very stern. Except for this snow-white hair, +however, he did not look ancient, for his flesh was firm and plump, and the +skin on his cheeks and neck unwrinkled, which suggested to me that the story of +his great antiquity was false. A man who was over a hundred years old, for +instance, surely could not boast such a beautiful set of teeth, for even at +that distance I could see them gleaming. On the other hand, evidently middle +age was far behind him; indeed, from his appearance it was quite impossible to +guess even approximately the number of his years. There he sat, red in the red +light, perfectly still, and staring without a blink of his eyes at the furious +ball of the setting sun, as an eagle is said to be able to do. +</p> + +<p> +Saduko advanced, and I walked after him. My stature is not great, and I have +never considered myself an imposing person, but somehow I do not think that I +ever felt more insignificant than on this occasion. The tall and splendid +native beside, or rather behind whom I walked, the gloomy magnificence of the +place, the blood-red light in which it was bathed, and the solemn, solitary, +little figure with wisdom stamped upon its face before me, all tended to induce +humility in a man not naturally vain. I felt myself growing smaller and +smaller, both in a moral and a physical sense; I wished that my curiosity had +not prompted me to seek an interview with yonder uncanny being. +</p> + +<p> +Well, it was too late to retreat; indeed, Saduko was already standing before +the dwarf and lifting his right arm above his head as he gave him the salute of +“<i>Makosi!</i>”<a href="#fn-2.2" name="fnref-2.2" id="fnref-2.2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> +whereon, feeling that something was expected of me, I took off my shabby cloth +hat and bowed, then, remembering my white man’s pride, replaced it on my +head. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2.2" id="fn-2.2"></a> <a href="#fnref-2.2">[2]</a> +<i>Makosi</i>, the plural of <i>Inkoosi</i>, is the salute given to Zulu +wizards, because they are not one but many, since in them (as in the possessed +demoniac in the Bible) dwell an unnumbered horde of +spirits.—E<small>DITOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +The wizard suddenly seemed to become aware of our presence, for, ceasing his +contemplation of the sinking sun, he scanned us both with his slow, thoughtful +eyes, which somehow reminded me of those of a chameleon, although they were not +prominent, but, as I have said, sunken. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, son Saduko!” he said in a deep, rumbling voice. +“Why are you back here so soon, and why do you bring this flea of a white +man with you?” +</p> + +<p> +Now this was more than I could bear, so without waiting for my +companion’s answer I broke in: +</p> + +<p> +“You give me a poor name, O Zikali. What would you think of me if I +called you a beetle of a wizard?” +</p> + +<p> +“I should think you clever,” he answered after reflection, +“for after all I must look something like a beetle with a white head. But +why should you mind being compared to a flea? A flea works by night and so do +you, Macumazahn; a flea is active and so are you; a flea is very hard to catch +and kill and so are you; and lastly a flea drinks its fill of that which it +desires, the blood of man and beast, and so you have done, do, and will, +Macumazahn,” and he broke into a great laugh that rolled and echoed about +the rocky roof above. +</p> + +<p> +Once, long years before, I had heard that laugh, when I was a prisoner in +Dingaan’s kraal, after the massacre of Retief and his company, and I +recognised it again. +</p> + +<p> +While I was searching for some answer in the same vein, and not finding it, +though I thought of plenty afterwards, ceasing of a sudden from his unseemly +mirth, he went on: +</p> + +<p> +“Do not let us waste time in jests, for it is a precious thing, and there +is but little of it left for any one of us. Your business, son Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Baba!</i>” (that is the Zulu for father), said Saduko, +“this white <i>Inkoosi</i>, for, as you know well enough, he is a chief +by nature, a man of a great heart and doubtless of high blood [this, I believe, +is true, for I have been told that my ancestors were more or less +distinguished, although, if this is so, their talents did not lie in the +direction of money-making], has offered to take me upon a shooting expedition +and to give me a good gun with two mouths in payment of my services. But I told +him I could not engage in any fresh venture without your leave, and—he is +come to see whether you will grant it, my father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” answered the dwarf, nodding his great head. “This +clever white man has taken the trouble of a long walk in the sun to come here +to ask me whether he may be allowed the privilege of presenting you with a +weapon of great value in return for a service that any man of your years in +Zululand would love to give for nothing in such company? +</p> + +<p> +“Son Saduko, because my eye-holes are hollow, do you think it your part +to try to fill them up with dust? Nay, the white man has come because he +desires to see him who is named Opener-of-Roads, of whom he heard a great deal +when he was but a lad, and to judge whether in truth he has wisdom, or is but a +common cheat. And you have come to learn whether or no your friendship with him +will be fortunate; whether or no he will aid you in a certain enterprise that +you have in your mind.” +</p> + +<p> +“True, O Zikali,” I said. “That is so far as I am +concerned.” +</p> + +<p> +But Saduko answered nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” went on the dwarf, “since I am in the mood I will try +to answer both your questions, for I should be a poor <i>Nyanga</i>” +[that is doctor] “if I did not when you have travelled so far to ask +them. Moreover, O Macumazana, be happy, for I seek no fee who, having made such +fortune as I need long ago, before your father was born across the Black Water, +Macumazahn, no longer work for a reward—unless it be from the hand of one +of the House of Senzangakona—and therefore, as you may guess, work but +seldom.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he clapped his hands, and a servant appeared from somewhere behind the +hut, one of those fierce-looking men who had stopped us at the gate. He saluted +the dwarf and stood before him in silence and with bowed head. +</p> + +<p> +“Make two fires,” said Zikali, “and give me my +medicine.” +</p> + +<p> +The man fetched wood, which he built into two little piles in front of Zikali. +These piles he fired with a brand brought from behind the hut. Then he handed +his master a catskin bag. +</p> + +<p> +“Withdraw,” said Zikali, “and return no more till I summon +you, for I am about to prophesy. If, however, I should seem to die, bury me +to-morrow in the place you know of and give this white man a safe-conduct from +my kraal.” +</p> + +<p> +The man saluted again and went without a word. +</p> + +<p> +When he had gone the dwarf drew from the bag a bundle of twisted roots, also +some pebbles, from which he selected two, one white and the other black. +</p> + +<p> +“Into this stone,” he said, holding up the white pebble so that the +light from the fire shone on it—since, save for the lingering red glow, +it was now growing dark—“into this stone I am about to draw your +spirit, O Macumazana; and into this one”—and he held up the black +pebble—“yours, O Son of Matiwane. Why do you look frightened, O +brave White Man, who keep saying in your heart, ‘He is nothing but an +ugly old Kafir cheat’? If I am a cheat, why do you look frightened? Is +your spirit already in your throat, and does it choke you, as this little stone +might do if you tried to swallow it?” and he burst into one of his great, +uncanny laughs. +</p> + +<p> +I tried to protest that I was not in the least frightened, but failed, for, in +fact, I suppose my nerves were acted on by his suggestion, and I did feel +exactly as though that stone were in my throat, only coming upwards, not going +downwards. “Hysteria,” thought I to myself, “the result of +being overtired,” and as I could not speak, sat still as though I treated +his gibes with silent contempt. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” went on the dwarf, “perhaps I shall seem to die; and +if so do not touch me lest you should really die. Wait till I wake up again and +tell you what your spirits have told me. Or if I do not wake up—for a +time must come when I shall go on sleeping—well—for as long as I +have lived—after the fires are quite out, not before, lay your hands upon +my breast; and if you find me turning cold, get you gone to some other +<i>Nyanga</i> as fast as the spirits of this place will let you, O ye who would +peep into the future.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he threw a big handful of the roots that I have mentioned on to +each of the fires, whereon tall flames leapt up from them, very unholy-looking +flames which were followed by columns of dense, white smoke that emitted a most +powerful and choking odour quite unlike anything that I had ever smelt before. +It seemed to penetrate all through me, and that accursed stone in my throat +grew as large as an apple and felt as though someone were poking it upwards +with a stick. +</p> + +<p> +Next he threw the white pebble into the right-hand fire, that which was +opposite to me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Enter, Macumazahn, and look,” and the black pebble he threw into +the left-hand fire saying: “Enter, Son of Matiwane, and look. Then come +back both of you and make report to me, your master.” +</p> + +<p> +Now it is a fact that as he said these words I experienced a sensation as +though a stone had come out of my throat; so readily do our nerves deceive us +that I even thought it grated against my teeth as I opened my mouth to give it +passage. At any rate the choking was gone, only now I felt as though I were +quite empty and floating on air, as though I were not I, in short, but a mere +shell of a thing, all of which doubtless was caused by the stench of those +burning roots. Still I could look and take note, for I distinctly saw Zikali +thrust his huge head, first into the smoke of what I will call my fire, next +into that of Saduko’s fire, and then lean back, blowing the stuff in +clouds from his mouth and nostrils. Afterwards I saw him roll over on to his +side and lie quite still with his arms outstretched; indeed, I noticed that one +of his fingers seemed to be in the left-hand fire and reflected that it would +be burnt off. In this, however, I must have been mistaken, since I observed +subsequently that it was not even scorched. +</p> + +<p> +Thus Zikali lay for a long while till I began to wonder whether he were not +really dead. Dead enough he seemed to be, for no corpse could have stayed more +stirless. But that night I could not keep my thoughts fixed on Zikali or +anything. I merely noted these circumstances in a mechanical way, as might one +with whom they had nothing whatsoever to do. They did not interest me at all, +for there appeared to be nothing in me to be interested, as I gathered +according to Zikali, because I was not there, but in a warmer place than I hope +ever to occupy, namely, in the stone in that unpleasant-looking, little +right-hand fire. +</p> + +<p> +So matters went as they might in a dream. The sun had sunk completely, not even +an after-glow was left. The only light remaining was that from the smouldering +fires, which just sufficed to illumine the bulk of Zikali, lying on his side, +his squat shape looking like that of a dead hippopotamus calf. What was left of +my consciousness grew heartily sick of the whole affair; I was tired of being +so empty. +</p> + +<p> +At length the dwarf stirred. He sat up, yawned, sneezed, shook himself, and +began to rake among the burning embers of my fire with his naked hand. +Presently he found the white stone, which was now red-hot—at any rate it +glowed as though it were—and after examining it for a moment finally +popped it into his mouth! Then he hunted in the other fire for the black stone, +which he treated in a similar fashion. The next thing I remember was that the +fires, which had died away almost to nothing, were burning very brightly again, +I suppose because someone had put fuel on them, and Zikali was speaking. +</p> + +<p> +“Come here, O Macumazana and O Son of Matiwane,” he said, +“and I will repeat to you what your spirits have been telling me.” +</p> + +<p> +We drew near into the light of the fires, which for some reason or other was +extremely vivid. Then he spat the white stone from his mouth into his big hand, +and I saw that now it was covered with lines and patches like a bird’s +egg. +</p> + +<p> +“You cannot read the signs?” he said, holding it towards me; and +when I shook my head went on: “Well, I can, as you white men read a book. +All your history is written here, Macumazahn; but there is no need to tell you +that, since you know it, as I do well enough, having learned it in other days, +the days of Dingaan, Macumazahn. All your future, also, a very strange +future,” and he scanned the stone with interest. “Yes, yes; a +wonderful life, and a noble death far away. But of these matters you have not +asked me, and therefore I may not tell them even if I wished, nor would you +believe if I did. It is of your hunting trip that you have asked me, and my +answer is that if you seek your own comfort you will do well not to go. A pool +in a dry river-bed; a buffalo bull with the tip of one horn shattered. Yourself +and the bull in the pool. Saduko, yonder, also in the pool, and a little +half-bred man with a gun jumping about upon the bank. Then a litter made of +boughs and you in it, and the father of Mameena walking lamely at your side. +Then a hut and you in it, and the maiden called Mameena sitting at your side. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn, your spirit has written on this stone that you should beware +of Mameena, since she is more dangerous than any buffalo. If you are wise you +will not go out hunting with Umbezi, although it is true that hunt will not +cost you your life. There, away, Stone, and take your writings with you!” +and as he spoke he jerked his arm and I heard something whiz past my face. +</p> + +<p> +Next he spat out the black stone and examined it in similar fashion. +</p> + +<p> +“Your expedition will be successful, Son of Matiwane,” he said. +“Together with Macumazahn you will win many cattle at the cost of sundry +lives. But for the rest—well, you did not ask me of it, did you? Also, I +have told you something of that story before to-day. Away, Stone!” and +the black pebble followed the white out into the surrounding gloom. +</p> + +<p> +We sat quite still until the dwarf broke the deep silence with one of his great +laughs. +</p> + +<p> +“My witchcraft is done,” he said. “A poor tale, was it not? +Well, hunt for those stones to-morrow and read the rest of it if you can. Why +did you not ask me to tell you everything while I was about it, White Man? It +would have interested you more, but now it has all gone from me back into your +spirit with the stones. Saduko, get you to sleep. Macumazahn, you who are a +Watcher-by-Night, come and sit with me awhile in my hut, and we will talk of +other things. All this business of the stones is nothing more than a Kafir +trick, is it, Macumazahn? When you meet the buffalo with the split horn in the +pool of a dried river, remember it is but a cheating trick, and now come into +my hut and drink a <i>kamba</i> [bowl] of beer and let us talk of other things +more interesting.” +</p> + +<p> +So he took me into the hut, which was a fine one, very well lighted by a fire +in its centre, and gave me Kafir beer to drink, that I swallowed gratefully, +for my throat was dry and still felt as though it had been scraped. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, Father?” I asked point-blank when I had taken my seat +upon a low stool, with my back resting against the wall of the hut, and lit my +pipe. +</p> + +<p> +He lifted his big head from the pile of karosses on which he was lying and +peered at me across the fire. +</p> + +<p> +“My name is Zikali, which means ‘Weapons,’ White Man. You +know as much as that, don’t you?” he answered. “My father +‘went down’ so long ago that his does not matter. I am a dwarf, +very ugly, with some learning, as we of the Black House understand it, and very +old. Is there anything else you would like to learn?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Zikali; how old?” +</p> + +<p> +“There, there, Macumazahn, as you know, we poor Kafirs cannot count very +well. How old? Well, when I was young I came down towards the coast from the +Great River, you call it the Zambesi, I think, with Undwandwe, who lived in the +north in those days. They have forgotten it now because it is some time ago, +and if I could write I would set down the history of that march, for we fought +some great battles with the people who used to live in this country. Afterwards +I was the friend of the Father of the Zulus, he whom they still call <i>Inkoosi +Umkulu</i>—the mighty chief—you may have heard tell of him. I +carved that stool on which you sit for him and he left it back to me when he +died.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi Umkulu!</i>” I exclaimed. “Why, they say he lived +hundreds of years ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do they, Macumazahn? If so, have I not told you that we black people +cannot count as well as you do? Really it was only the other day. Anyhow, after +his death the Zulus began to maltreat us Undwandwe and the Quabies and the +Tetwas with us—you may remember that they called us the Amatefula, making +a mock of us. So I quarrelled with the Zulus and especially with Chaka, he whom +they named <i>Uhlanya</i> [the Mad One]. You see, Macumazahn, it pleased him to +laugh at me because I am not as other men are. He gave me a name which means +‘The-thing-which-should-never-have-been-born.’ I will not speak +that name, it is secret to me, it may not pass my lips. Yet at times he sought +my wisdom, and I paid him back for his names, for I gave him very ill counsel, +and he took it, and I brought him to his death, although none ever saw my +finger in that business. But when he was dead at the hands of his brothers +Dingaan and Umhlangana and of Umbopa, Umbopa who also had a score to settle +with him, and his body was cast out of the kraal like that of an evil-doer, why +I, who because I was a dwarf was not sent with the <i>men</i> against +Sotshangana, went and sat on it at night and laughed thus,” and he broke +into one of his hideous peals of merriment. +</p> + +<p> +“I laughed thrice: once for my wives whom he had taken; once for my +children whom he had slain; and once for the mocking name that he had given me. +Then I became the counsellor of Dingaan, whom I hated worse than I had hated +Chaka, for he was Chaka again without his greatness, and you know the end of +Dingaan, for you had a share in that war, and of Umhlangana, his brother and +fellow-murderer, whom I counselled Dingaan to slay. This I did through the lips +of the old Princess Menkabayi, Jama’s daughter, Senzangakona’s +sister, the Oracle before whom all men bowed, causing her to say that +‘This land of the Zulus cannot be ruled by a crimson assegai.’ For, +Macumazahn, it was Umhlangana who first struck Chaka with the spear. Now Panda +reigns, the last of the sons of Senzangakona, my enemy, Panda the Fool, and I +hold my hand from Panda because he tried to save the life of a child of mine +whom Chaka slew. But Panda has sons who are as Chaka was, and against them I +work as I worked against those who went before them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Why? Oh! if I were to tell you <i>all</i> my story you would understand +why, Macumazahn. Well, perhaps I will one day.” (Here I may state that as +a matter of fact he did, and a very wonderful tale it is, but as it has nothing +to do with this history I will not write it here.) +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say,” I answered. “Chaka and Dingaan and Umhlangana +and the others were not nice people. But another question. Why do you tell me +all this, O Zikali, seeing that were I but to repeat it to a talking-bird you +would be smelt out and a single moon would not die before you do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I should be smelt out and killed before one moon dies, should I? +Then I wonder that this has not happened during all the moons that are gone. +Well, I tell the story to you, Macumazahn, who have had so much to do with the +tale of the Zulus since the days of Dingaan, because I wish that someone should +know it and perhaps write it down when everything is finished. Because, too, I +have just been reading your spirit and see that it is still a white spirit, and +that you will not whisper it to a ‘talking-bird.’” +</p> + +<p> +Now I leant forward and looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the end at which you aim, O Zikali?” I asked. “You +are not one who beats the air with a stick; on whom do you wish the stick to +fall at last?” +</p> + +<p> +“On whom?” he answered in a new voice, a low, hissing voice. +“Why, on these proud Zulus, this little family of men who call themselves +the ‘People of Heaven,’ and swallow other tribes as the great +tree-snake swallows kids and small bucks, and when it is fat with them cries to +the world, ‘See how big I am! Everything is inside of me.’ I am a +Ndwande, one of those peoples whom it pleases the Zulus to call +‘Amatefula’—poor hangers-on who talk with an accent, nothing +but bush swine. Therefore I would see the swine tusk the hunter. Or, if that +may not be, I would see the black hunter laid low by the rhinoceros, the white +rhinoceros of your race, Macumazahn, yes, even if it sets its foot upon the +Ndwande boar as well. There, I have told you, and this is the reason that I +live so long, for I will not die until these things have come to pass, as come +to pass they will. What did Chaka, Senzangakona’s son, say when the +little red assegai, the assegai with which he slew his mother, aye and others, +some of whom were near to me, was in his liver? What did he say to Mbopa and +the princes? Did he not say that he heard the feet of a great white people +running, of a people who should stamp the Zulus flat? Well, I, +‘The-thing-who-should-not-have-been-born,’ live on until that day +comes, and when it comes I think that you and I, Macumazahn, shall not be far +apart, and that is why I have opened out my heart to you, I who have knowledge +of the future. There, I speak no more of these things that are to be, who +perchance have already said too much of them. Yet do not forget my words. Or +forget them if you will, for I shall remind you of them, Macumazahn, when the +feet of your people have avenged the Ndwandes and others whom it pleases the +Zulus to treat as dirt.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, this strange man, who had sat up in his excitement, shook his long white +hair which, after the fashion of wizards, he wore plaited into thin ropes, till +it hung like a veil about him, hiding his broad face and deep eyes. Presently +he spoke again through this veil of hair, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“You are wondering, Macumazahn, what Saduko has to do with all these +great events that are to be. I answer that he must play his part in them; not a +very great part, but still a part, and it is for this purpose that I saved him +as a child from Bangu, Dingaan’s man, and reared him up to be a warrior, +although, since I cannot lie, I warned him that he would do well to leave +spears alone and follow after wisdom. Well, he will slay Bangu, who now has +quarrelled with Panda, and a woman will come into the story, one Mameena, and +that woman will bring about war between the sons of Panda, and from this war +shall spring the ruin of the Zulus, for he who wins will be an evil king to +them and bring down on them the wrath of a mightier race. And so +‘The-thing-that-should-not-have-been-born’ and the Ndwandes and the +Quabies and Twetwas, whom it has pleased the conquering Zulus to name +‘Amatefula,’ shall be avenged. Yes, yes, my Spirit tells me all +these things, and they are true.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what of Saduko, my friend and your fosterling?” +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko, your friend and my fosterling, will take his appointed road, +Macumazahn, as I shall and you will. What more could he desire, seeing it is +that which he has chosen? He will take his road and he will play the part which +the Great-Great has prepared for him. Seek not to know more. Why should you, +since Time will tell you the story? And now go to rest, Macumazahn, as I must +who am old and feeble. And when it pleases you to visit me again, we will talk +further. Meanwhile, remember always that I am nothing but an old Kafir cheat +who pretends to a knowledge that belongs to no man. Remember it especially, +Macumazahn, when you meet a buffalo with a split horn in the pool of a dried-up +river, and afterwards, when a woman named Mameena makes a certain offer to you, +which you may be tempted to accept. Good night to you, Watcher-by-Night with +the white heart and the strange destiny, good night to you, and try not to +think too hardly of the old Kafir cheat who just now is called +‘Opener-of-Roads.’ My servant waits without to lead you to your +hut, and if you wish to be back at Umbezi’s kraal by nightfall to-morrow, +you will do well to start ere sunrise, since, as you found in coming, Saduko, +although he may be a fool, is a very good walker, and you do not like to be +left behind, Macumazahn, do you?” +</p> + +<p> +So I rose to go, but as I went some impulse seemed to take him and he called me +back and made me sit down again. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn,” he said, “I would add a word. When you were +quite a lad you came into this country with Retief, did you not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered slowly, for this matter of the massacre of Retief +is one of which I have seldom cared to speak, for sundry reasons, although I +have made a record of it in writing.<a href="#fn-2.3" name="fnref-2.3" id="fnref-2.3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> +Even my friends Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good have heard little of the part +I played in that tragedy. “But what do you know of that business, +Zikali?” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-2.3" id="fn-2.3"></a> <a href="#fnref-2.3">[3]</a> +Published under the title of “Marie.”—E<small>DITOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +“All that there is to know, I think, Macumazahn, seeing that I was at the +bottom of it, and that Dingaan killed those Boers on my advice—just as he +killed Chaka and Umhlangana.” +</p> + +<p> +“You cold-blooded old murderer—” I began, but he interrupted +me at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you throw evil names at me, Macumazahn, as I threw the stone of +your fate at you just now? Why am I a murderer because I brought about the +death of some white men that chanced to be your friends, who had come here to +cheat us black folk of our country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Was it for <i>this</i> reason that you brought about their deaths, +Zikali?” I asked, staring him in the face, for I felt that he was lying +to me. +</p> + +<p> +“Not altogether, Macumazahn,” he answered, letting his eyes, those +strange eyes that could look at the sun without blinking, fall before my gaze. +“Have I not told you that I hate the House of Senzangakona? And when +Retief and his companions were killed, did not the spilling of their blood mean +war to the end between the Zulus and the White Men? Did it not mean the death +of Dingaan and of thousands of his people, which is but a beginning of deaths? +Now do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand that you are a very wicked man,” I answered with +indignation. +</p> + +<p> +“At least <i>you</i> should not say so, Macumazahn,” he replied in +a new voice, one with the ring of truth in it. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I saved your life on that day. You escaped alone of the White +Men, did you not? And you never could understand why, could you?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I could not, Zikali. I put it down to what you would call ‘the +spirits.’” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I will tell you. Those spirits of yours wore my kaross,” and +he laughed. “I saw you with the Boers, and saw, too, that you were of +another people—the people of the English. You may have heard at the time +that I was doctoring at the Great Place, although I kept out of the way and we +did not meet, or at least you never knew that we met, for you +were—asleep. Also I pitied your youth, for, although you do not believe +it, I had a little bit of heart left in those days. Also I knew that we should +come together again in the after years, as you see we have done to-day and +shall often do until the end. So I told Dingaan that whoever died you must be +spared, or he would bring up the ‘people of George’ [i.e. the +English] to avenge you, and your ghost would enter into him and pour out a +curse upon him. He believed me who did not understand that already so many +curses were gathered about his head that one more or less made no matter. So +you see you were spared, Macumazahn, and afterwards you helped to pour out a +curse upon Dingaan without becoming a ghost, which is the reason why Panda +likes you so well to-day, Panda, the enemy of Dingaan, his brother. You +remember the woman who helped you? Well, I made her do so. How did it go with +you afterwards, Macumazahn, with you and the Boer maiden across the Buffalo +River, to whom you were making love in those days?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind how it went,” I replied, springing up, for the old +wizard’s talk had stirred sad and bitter memories in my heart. +“That time is dead, Zikali.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it, Macumazahn? Now, from the look upon your face I should have said +that it was still very much alive, as things that happened in our youth have a +way of keeping alive. But doubtless I am mistaken, and it is all as dead as +Dingaan, and as Retief, and as the others, your companions. At least, although +you do not believe it, I saved your life on that red day, for my own purposes, +of course, not because one white life was anything among so many in my count. +And now go to rest, Macumazahn, go to rest, for although your heart has been +awakened by memories this evening, I promise that you shall sleep well +to-night,” and throwing the long hair back off his eyes he looked at me +keenly, wagging his big head to and fro, and burst into another of his great +laughs. +</p> + +<p> +So I went. But, ah! as I went I wept. +</p> + +<p> +Anyone who knew all that story would understand why. But this is not the place +to tell it, that tale of my first love and of the terrible events which befell +us in the time of Dingaan. Still, as I say, I have written it down, and perhaps +one day it will be read. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>Chapter III.<br /> +THE BUFFALO WITH THE CLEFT HORN</h2> + +<p> +I slept very well that night, I suppose because I was so dog-tired I could not +help it; but next day, on our long walk back to Umbezi’s kraal, I thought +a great deal. +</p> + +<p> +Without doubt I had seen and heard very strange things, both of the past and +the present—things that I could not in the least understand. Moreover, +they were mixed up with all sorts of questions of high Zulu policy, and threw a +new light upon events that happened to me and others in my youth. +</p> + +<p> +Now, in the clear sunlight, was the time to analyse these things, and this I +did in the most logical fashion I could command, although without the slightest +assistance from Saduko, who, when I asked him questions, merely shrugged his +shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +These questions, he said, did not interest him; I had wished to see the magic +of Zikali, and Zikali had been pleased to show me some very good magic, quite +of his best indeed. Also he had conversed alone with me afterwards, doubtless +on high matters—so high that he, Saduko, was not admitted to share the +conversation—which was an honour he accorded to very few. I could form my +own conclusions in the light of the White Man’s wisdom, which everyone +knew was great. +</p> + +<p> +I replied shortly that I could, for Saduko’s tone irritated me. Of +course, the truth was that he felt aggrieved at being sent off to bed like a +little boy while his foster-father, the old dwarf, made confidences to me. One +of Saduko’s faults was that he had always a very good opinion of himself. +Also he was by nature terribly jealous, even in little things, as the readers +of his history, if any, will learn. +</p> + +<p> +We trudged on for several hours in silence, broken at length by my companion. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you still mean to go on a shooting expedition with Umbezi, +<i>Inkoosi?</i>” he asked, “or are you afraid?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what should I be afraid?” I answered tartly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of the buffalo with the split horn, of which Zikali told you. What +else?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, I fear I used strong language about the buffalo with the split horn, a +beast in which I declared I had no belief whatsoever, either with or without +its accessories of dried river-beds and water-holes. +</p> + +<p> +“If all this old woman’s talk has made <i>you</i> afraid, +however,” I added, “you can stop at the kraal with Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should the talk make me afraid, Macumazahn? Zikali did not say that +this evil spirit of a buffalo would hurt <i>me</i>. If I fear, it is for you, +seeing that if you are hurt you may not be able to go with me to look for +Bangu’s cattle.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” I replied sarcastically; “it seems that you are +somewhat selfish, friend Saduko, since it is of your welfare and not of my +safety that you are thinking.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I were as selfish as you seem to believe, <i>Inkoosi</i>, should I +advise you to stop with your wagons, and thereby lose the good gun with two +mouths that you have promised me? Still, it is true that I should like well +enough to stay at Umbezi’s kraal with Mameena, especially if Umbezi were +away.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, as there is nothing more uninteresting than to listen to other +people’s love affairs, and as I saw that with the slightest encouragement +Saduko was ready to tell me all the history of his courtship over again, I did +not continue the argument. So we finished our journey in silence, and arrived +at Umbezi’s kraal a little after sundown, to find, to the disappointment +of both of us, that Mameena was still away. +</p> + +<p> +Upon the following morning we started on our shooting expedition, the party +consisting of myself, my servant Scowl, who, as I think I said, hailed from the +Cape and was half a Hottentot; Saduko; the merry old Zulu, Umbezi, and a number +of his men to serve as bearers and beaters. It proved a very successful +trip—that is, until the end of it—for in those days the game in +this part of the country was extremely plentiful. Before the end of the second +week I killed four elephants, two of them with large tusks, while Saduko, who +soon developed into a very fair shot, bagged another with the double-barrelled +gun that I had promised him. Also, Umbezi—how, I have never discovered, +for the thing partook of the nature of a miracle—managed to slay an +elephant cow with fair ivories, using the old rifle that went off at half-cock. +</p> + +<p> +Never have I seen a man, black or white, so delighted as was that vainglorious +Kafir. For whole hours he danced and sang and took snuff and saluted with his +hand, telling me the story of his deed over and over again, no single version +of which tale agreed with the other. He took a new title also, that meant +“Eater-up-of-Elephants”; he allowed one of his men to +<i>bonga</i>—that is, praise—him all through the night, preventing +us from getting a wink of sleep, until at last the poor fellow dropped in a +kind of fit from exhaustion, and so forth. It really was very amusing until it +became a bore. +</p> + +<p> +Besides the elephants we killed lots of other things, including two lions, +which I got almost with a right and left, and three white rhinoceroses, that +now, alas! are nearly extinct. At last, towards the end of the third week, we +had as much as our men could carry in the shape of ivory, rhinoceros horns, +skins and sun-dried buckflesh, or biltong, and determined to start back for +Umbezi’s kraal next day. Indeed, this could not be long delayed, as our +powder and lead were running low; for in those days, it will be remembered, +breechloaders had not come in, and ammunition, therefore, had to be carried in +bulk. +</p> + +<p> +To tell the truth, I was very glad that our trip had come to such a +satisfactory conclusion, for, although I would not admit it even to myself, I +could not get rid of a kind of sneaking dread lest after all there might be +something in the old dwarf’s prophecy about a disagreeable adventure with +a buffalo which was in store for me. Well, as it chanced, we had not so much as +seen a buffalo, and as the road which we were going to take back to the kraal +ran over high, bare country that these animals did not frequent, there was now +little prospect of our doing so—all of which, of course, showed what I +already knew, that only weak-headed superstitious idiots would put the +slightest faith in the drivelling nonsense of deceiving or self-deceived Kafir +medicine-men. These things, indeed, I pointed out with much vigour to Saduko +before we turned in on the last night of the hunt. +</p> + +<p> +Saduko listened in silence and said nothing at all, except that he would not +keep me up any longer, as I must be tired. +</p> + +<p> +Now, whatever may be the reason for it, my experience in life is that it is +never wise to brag about anything. At any rate, on a hunting trip, to come to a +particular instance, wait until you are safe at home till you begin to do so. +Of the truth of this ancient adage I was now destined to experience a +particularly fine and concrete example. +</p> + +<p> +The place where we had camped was in scattered bush overlooking a great extent +of dry reeds, that in the wet season was doubtless a swamp fed by a small river +which ran into it on the side opposite to our camp. During the night I woke up, +thinking that I heard some big beasts moving in these reeds; but as no further +sounds reached my ears I went to sleep again. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after dawn I was awakened by a voice calling me, which in a hazy +fashion I recognised as that of Umbezi. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn,” said the voice in a hoarse whisper, “the reeds +below us are full of buffalo. Get up. Get up at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“What for?” I answered. “If the buffalo came into the reeds +they will go out of them. We do not want meat.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Macumazahn; but I want their hides. Panda, the King, has demanded +fifty shields of me, and without killing oxen that I can ill spare I have not +the skins whereof to make them. Now, these buffalo are in a trap. This swamp is +like a dish with one mouth. They cannot get out at the sides of the dish, and +the mouth by which they came in is very narrow. If we station ourselves at +either side of it we can kill many of them.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time I was thoroughly awake and had arisen from my blankets. Throwing a +kaross over my shoulders, I left the hut, made of boughs, in which I was +sleeping and walked a few paces to the crest of a rocky ridge, whence I could +see the dry <i>vlei</i> below. Here the mists of dawn still clung, but from it +rose sounds of grunts, bellows and tramplings which I, an old hunter, could not +mistake. Evidently a herd of buffalo, one or two hundred of them, had +established themselves in those reeds. +</p> + +<p> +Just then my bastard servant, Scowl, and Saduko joined us, both of them full of +excitement. +</p> + +<p> +It appeared that Scowl, who never seemed to sleep at any natural time, had seen +the buffalo entering the reeds, and estimated their number at two or three +hundred. Saduko had examined the cleft through which they passed, and reported +it to be so narrow that we could kill any number of them as they rushed out to +escape. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so. I understand,” I said. “Well, my opinion is that +we had better let them escape. Only four of us, counting Umbezi, are armed with +guns, and assegais are not of much use against buffalo. Let them go, I +say.” +</p> + +<p> +Umbezi, thinking of a cheap raw material for the shields which had been +requisitioned by the King, who would surely be pleased if they were made of +such a rare and tough hide as that of buffalo, protested violently, and Saduko, +either to please one whom he hoped might be his father-in-law or from sheer +love of sport, for which he always had a positive passion, backed him up. Only +Scowl—whose dash of Hottentot blood made him cunning and +cautious—took my side, pointing out that we were very short of powder and +that buffalo “ate up much lead.” At last Saduko said: +</p> + +<p> +“The lord Macumazana is our captain; we must obey him, although it is a +pity. But doubtless the prophesying of Zikali weighs upon his mind, so there is +nothing to be done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Zikali!” exclaimed Umbezi. “What has the old dwarf to do +with this matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind what he has or has not to do with it,” I broke in, for +although I do not think that he meant them as a taunt, but merely as a +statement of fact, Saduko’s words stung me to the quick, especially as my +conscience told me that they were not altogether without foundation. +</p> + +<p> +“We will try to kill some of these buffalo,” I went on, +“although, unless the herd should get bogged, which is not likely, as the +swamp is very dry, I do not think that we can hope for more than eight or ten +at the most, which won’t be of much use for shields. Come, let us make a +plan. We have no time to lose, for I think they will begin to move again before +the sun is well up.” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later the four of us who were armed with guns were posted behind +rocks on either side of the steep, natural roadway cut by water, which led down +to the <i>vlei</i>, and with us some of Umbezi’s men. That chief himself +was at my side—a post of honour which he had insisted upon taking. To +tell the truth, I did not dissuade him, for I thought that I should be safer so +than if he were opposite to me, since, even if the old rifle did not go off of +its own accord, Umbezi, when excited, was a most uncertain shot. The herd of +buffalo appeared to have lain down in the reeds, so, being careful to post +ourselves first, we sent three of the native bearers to the farther side of the +<i>vlei</i>, with instructions to rouse the beasts by shouting. The remainder +of the Zulus—there were ten or a dozen of them armed with stabbing +spears—we kept with us. +</p> + +<p> +But what did these scoundrels do? Instead of disturbing the herd by making a +noise, as we told them, for some reason best known to themselves—I expect +it was because they were afraid to go into the <i>vlei</i>, where they might +meet the horn of a buffalo at any moment—they fired the dry reeds in +three or four places at once, and this, if you please, with a strong wind +blowing from them to us. In a minute or two the farther side of the swamp was a +sheet of crackling flame that gave off clouds of dense white smoke. Then +pandemonium began. +</p> + +<p> +The sleeping buffalo leapt to their feet, and, after a few moments of +indecision, crashed towards us, the whole huge herd of them, snorting and +bellowing like mad things. Seeing what was about to happen, I nipped behind a +big boulder, while Scowl shinned up a mimosa with the swiftness of a cat and, +heedless of its thorns, sat himself in an eagle’s nest at the top. The +Zulus with the spears bolted to take cover where they could. What became of +Saduko I did not see, but old Umbezi, bewildered with excitement, jumped into +the exact middle of the roadway, shouting: +</p> + +<p> +“They come! They come! Charge, buffalo folk, if you will. The +Eater-up-of-Elephants awaits you!” +</p> + +<p> +“You etceterad old fool!” I shouted, but got no farther, for just +at this moment the first of the buffalo, which I could see was an enormous +bull, probably the leader of the herd, accepted Umbezi’s invitation and +came, with its nose stuck straight out in front of it. Umbezi’s gun went +off, and next instant he went up. Through the smoke I saw his black bulk in the +air, and then heard it alight with a thud on the top of the rock behind which I +was crouching. +</p> + +<p> +“Exit Umbezi,” I said to myself, and by way of a requiem let the +bull which had hoisted him, as I thought to heaven, have an ounce of lead in +the ribs as it passed me. After that I did not fire any more, for it occurred +to me that it was as well not to further advertise my presence. +</p> + +<p> +In all my hunting experience I cannot remember ever seeing such a sight as that +which followed. Out of the vlei rushed the buffalo by dozens, every one of them +making remarks in its own language as it came. They jammed in the narrow +roadway, they leapt on to each other’s backs. They squealed, they kicked, +they bellowed. They charged my friendly rock till I felt it shake. They knocked +over Scowl’s mimosa thorn, and would have shot him out of his +eagle’s nest had not its flat top fortunately caught in that of another +and less accessible tree. And with them came clouds of pungent smoke, mixed +with bits of burning reed and puffs of hot air. +</p> + +<p> +It was over at last. With the exception of some calves, which had been trampled +to death in the rush, the herd had gone. Now, like the Roman emperor—I +think he was an emperor—I began to wonder what had become of my legions. +</p> + +<p> +“Umbezi,” I shouted, or, rather, sneezed through the smoke, +“are you dead, Umbezi?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, Macumazahn,” replied a choking and melancholy voice from +the top of the rock, “I am dead, quite dead. That evil spirit of a +<i>silwana</i> [i.e. wild beast] has killed me. Oh! why did I think I was a +hunter; why did I not stop at my kraal and count my cattle?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I don’t know, you old lunatic,” I answered, as I +scrambled up the rock to bid him good-bye. +</p> + +<p> +It was a rock with a razor top like the ridge of a house, and there, hanging +across this ridge like a pair of nether garments on a clothes-line, I found the +“Eater-up-of-Elephants.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where did he get you, Umbezi?” I asked, for I could not see his +wounds because of the smoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Behind, Macumazahn, behind!” he groaned, “for I had turned +to fly, but, alas! too late.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the contrary,” I replied, “for one so heavy you flew very +well; like a bird, Umbezi, like a bird.” +</p> + +<p> +“Look and see what the evil beast has done to me, Macumazahn. It will be +easy, for my moocha has gone.” +</p> + +<p> +So I looked, examining Umbezi’s ample proportions with care, but could +discover nothing except a large smudge of black mud, as though he had sat down +in a half-dried puddle. Then I guessed the truth. The buffalo’s horns had +missed him. He had been struck only with its muddy nose, which, being almost as +broad as that portion of Umbezi with which it came in contact, had inflicted +nothing worse than a bruise. When I was sure he had received no serious injury, +my temper, already sorely tried, gave out, and I administered to him the +soundest smacking—his position being very convenient—that he had +ever received since he was a little boy. +</p> + +<p> +“Get up, you idiot!” I shouted, “and let us look for the +others. This is the end of your folly in making me attack a herd of buffalo in +reeds. Get up. Am I to stop here till I choke?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean to tell me that I have no mortal wound, Macumazahn?” +he asked, with a return of cheerfulness, accepting the castigation in good +part, for he was not one who bore malice. “Oh, I am glad to hear it, for +now I shall live to make those cowards who fired the reeds sorry that they are +not dead; also to finish off that wild beast, for I hit him, Macumazahn, I hit +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know whether you hit him; I know he hit you,” I +replied, as I shoved him off the rock and ran towards the tilted tree where I +had last seen Scowl. +</p> + +<p> +Here I beheld another strange sight. Scowl was still seated in the +eagle’s nest that he shared with two nearly fledged young birds, one of +which, having been injured, was uttering piteous cries. Nor did it cry in vain, +for its parents, which were of that great variety of kite that the Boers call +<i>lammefange</i>, or lamb-lifters, had just arrived to its assistance, and +were giving their new nestling, Scowl, the best doing that man ever received at +the beak and claws of feathered kind. Seen through those rushing smoke wreaths, +the combat looked perfectly titanic; also it was one of the noisiest to which I +ever listened, for I don’t know which shrieked the more loudly, the +infuriated eagles or their victim. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing how things stood, I burst into a roar of laughter, and just then Scowl +grabbed the leg of the male bird, that was planted in his breast while it +removed tufts of his wool with its hooked beak, and leapt boldly from the nest, +which had become too hot to hold him. The eagle’s outspread wings broke +his fall, for they acted as a parachute; and so did Umbezi, upon whom he +chanced to land. Springing from the prostrate shape of the chief, who now had a +bruise in front to match that behind, Scowl, covered with pecks and scratches, +ran like a lamp-lighter, leaving me to collect my second gun, which he had +dropped at the bottom of the tree, but fortunately without injuring it. The +Kafirs gave him another name after that encounter, which meant +“He-who-fights-birds-and-gets-the-worst-of-it.” +</p> + +<p> +Well, we escaped from the line of the smoke, a dishevelled trio—indeed, +Umbezi had nothing left on him except his head ring—and shouted for the +others, if perchance they had not been trodden to death in the rush. The first +to arrive was Saduko, who looked quite calm and untroubled, but stared at us in +astonishment, and asked coolly what we had been doing to get in such a state. I +replied in appropriate language, and asked in turn how he had managed to remain +so nicely dressed. +</p> + +<p> +He did not answer, but I believe the truth was that he had crept into a large +ant-bear’s hole—small blame to him, to be frank. Then the remainder +of our party turned up one by one, some of them looking very blown, as though +they had run a long way. None were missing, except those who had fired the +reeds, and they thought it well to keep clear for a good many hours. I believe +that afterwards they regretted not having taken a longer leave of absence; but +when they finally did arrive I was in no condition to note what passed between +them and their outraged chief. +</p> + +<p> +Being collected, the question arose what we should do. Of course, I wished to +return to camp and get out of this ill-omened place as soon as possible. But I +had reckoned without the vanity of Umbezi. Umbezi stretched over the edge of a +sharp rock, whither he had been hoisted by the nose of a buffalo, and imagining +himself to be mortally wounded, was one thing; but Umbezi in a borrowed moocha, +although, because of his bruises, he supported his person with one hand in +front and with the other behind, knowing his injuries to be purely superficial, +was quite another. +</p> + +<p> +“I am a hunter,” he said; “I am named +‘Eater-up-of-Elephants’;” and he rolled his eyes, looking +about for someone to contradict him, which nobody did. Indeed, his +“praiser,” a thin, tired-looking person, whose voice was worn out +with his previous exertions, repeated in a feeble way: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Black One, ‘Eater-up-of-Elephants’ is your name; +‘Lifted-up-by-Buffalo’ is your name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Be silent, idiot,” roared Umbezi. “As I said, I am a hunter; +I have wounded the wild beast that subsequently dared to assault me. [As a +matter of fact, it was I, Allan Quatermain, who had wounded it.] I would make +it bite the dust, for it cannot be far away. Let us follow it.” +</p> + +<p> +He glared round him, whereon his obsequious people, or one of them, echoed: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, by all means let us follow it, ‘Eater-up-of-Elephants.’ +Macumazahn, the clever white man, will show us how, for where is the buffalo +that he fears!” +</p> + +<p> +Of course, after this there was nothing else to be done, so, having summoned +the scratched Scowl, who seemed to have no heart in the business, we started on +the spoor of the herd, which was as easy to track as a wagon road. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Baas,” said Scowl, “they are two hours’ +march off by now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so,” I answered; but, as it happened, luck was against me, +for before we had covered half a mile some over-zealous fellow struck a blood +spoor. +</p> + +<p> +I marched on that spoor for twenty minutes or so, till we came to a patch of +bush that sloped downwards to a river-bed. Right to this river I followed it, +till I reached the edge of a big pool that was still full of water, although +the river itself had gone dry. Here I stood looking at the spoor and consulting +with Saduko as to whether the beast could have swum the pool, for the tracks +that went to its very verge had become confused and uncertain. Suddenly our +doubts were ended, since out of a patch of dense bush which we had +passed—for it had played the common trick of doubling back on its own +spoor—appeared the buffalo, a huge bull, that halted on three legs, my +bullet having broken one of its thighs. As to its identity there was no doubt, +since on, or rather from, its right horn, which was cleft apart at the top, +hung the remains of Umbezi’s moocha. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, beware, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” cried Saduko in a frightened voice. +“<i>It is the buffalo with the cleft horn!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +I heard him; I saw. All the scene in the hut of Zikali rose before me—the +old dwarf, his words, everything. I lifted my rifle and fired at the charging +beast, but knew that the bullet glanced from its skull. I threw down the +gun—for the buffalo was right on me—and tried to jump aside. +</p> + +<p> +Almost I did so, but that cleft horn, to which hung the remains of +Umbezi’s moocha, scooped me up and hurled me off the river bank backwards +and sideways into the deep pool below. As I departed thither I saw Saduko +spring forward and heard a shot fired that caused the bull to collapse for a +moment. Then with a slow, sliding motion it followed me into the pool. +</p> + +<p> +Now we were together, and there was no room for both, so after a certain amount +of dodging I went under, as the lighter dog always does in a fight. That +buffalo seemed to do everything to me which a buffalo could do under the +circumstances. It tried to horn me, and partially succeeded, although I ducked +at each swoop. Then it struck me with its nose and drove me to the bottom of +the pool, although I got hold of its lip and twisted it. Then it calmly knelt +on me and sank me deeper and deeper into the mud. I remember kicking it in the +stomach. After this I remember no more, except a kind of wild dream in which I +rehearsed all the scene in the dwarf’s hut, and his request that when I +met the buffalo with the cleft horn in the pool of a dried river, I should +remember that he was nothing but a “poor old Kafir cheat.” +</p> + +<p> +After this I saw my mother bending over a little child in my bed in the old +house in Oxfordshire where I was born, and then—blackness! +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I came to myself again and saw, instead of my mother, the stately figure of +Saduko bending over me upon one side, and on the other that of Scowl, the +half-bred Hottentot, who was weeping, for his hot tears fell upon my face. +</p> + +<p> +“He is gone,” said poor Scowl; “that bewitched beast with the +split horn has killed him. He is gone who was the best white man in all South +Africa, whom I loved better than my father and all my relatives.” +</p> + +<p> +“That you might easily do, Bastard,” answered Saduko, “seeing +that you do not know who they are. But he is not gone, for the +‘Opener-of-Roads’ said that he would live; also I got my spear into +the heart of that buffalo before he had kneaded the life out of him, as +fortunately the mud was soft. Yet I fear that his ribs are broken”; and +he poked me with his finger on the breast. +</p> + +<p> +“Take your clumsy hand off me,” I gasped. +</p> + +<p> +“There!” said Saduko, “I have made him feel. Did I not tell +you that he would live?” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +After this I remember little more, except some confused dreams, till I found +myself lying in a great hut, which I discovered subsequently was Umbezi’s +own, the same, indeed, wherein I had doctored the ear of that wife of his who +was called “Worn-out-old-Cow.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>Chapter IV.<br /> +MAMEENA</h2> + +<p> +For a while I contemplated the roof and sides of the hut by the light which +entered it through the smoke-vent and the door-hole, wondering whose it might +be and how I came there. +</p> + +<p> +Then I tried to sit up, and instantly was seized with agony in the region of +the ribs, which I found were bound about with broad strips of soft tanned hide. +Clearly they, or some of them, were broken. +</p> + +<p> +What had broken them? I asked myself, and in a flash everything came back to +me. So I had escaped with my life, as the old dwarf, +“Opener-of-Roads,” had told me that I should. Certainly he was an +excellent prophet; and if he spoke truth in this matter, why not in others? +What was I to make of it all? How could a black savage, however ancient, +foresee the future? +</p> + +<p> +By induction from the past, I supposed; and yet what amount of induction would +suffice to show him the details of a forthcoming accident that was to happen to +me through the agency of a wild beast with a peculiarly shaped horn? I gave it +up, as before and since that day I have found it necessary to do in the case of +many other events in life. Indeed, the question is one that I often have had +cause to ask where Kafir “witch-doctors” or prophets are concerned, +notably in the instance of a certain Mavovo, of whom I hope to tell one day, +whose predictions saved my life and those of my companions. +</p> + +<p> +Just then I heard the sound of someone creeping through the bee-hole of the +hut, and half-closed my eyes, as I did not feel inclined for conversation. The +person came and stood over me, and somehow—by instinct, I suppose—I +became aware that my visitor was a woman. Very slowly I lifted my eyelids, just +enough to enable me to see her. +</p> + +<p> +There, standing in a beam of golden light that, passing through the smoke-hole, +pierced the soft gloom of the hut, stood the most beautiful creature that I had +ever seen—that is, if it be admitted that a person who is black, or +rather copper-coloured, can be beautiful. +</p> + +<p> +She was a little above the medium height, not more, with a figure that, so far +as I am a judge of such matters, was absolutely perfect—that of a Greek +statue indeed. On this point I had an opportunity of forming an opinion, since, +except for her little bead apron and a single string of large blue beads about +her throat, her costume was—well, that of a Greek statue. Her features +showed no trace of the negro type; on the contrary, they were singularly well +cut, the nose being straight and fine and the pouting mouth that just showed +the ivory teeth between, very small. Then the eyes, large, dark and liquid, +like those of a buck, set beneath a smooth, broad forehead on which the +curling, but not woolly, hair grew low. This hair, by the way, was not dressed +up in any of the eccentric native fashions, but simply parted in the middle and +tied in a big knot over the nape of the neck, the little ears peeping out +through its tresses. The hands, like the feet, were very small and delicate, +and the curves of the bust soft and full without being coarse, or even showing +the promise of coarseness. +</p> + +<p> +A lovely woman, truly; and yet there was something not quite pleasing about +that beautiful face; something, notwithstanding its childlike outline, which +reminded me of a flower breaking into bloom, that one does not associate with +youth and innocence. I tried to analyse what this might be, and came to the +conclusion that without being hard, it was too clever and, in a sense, too +reflective. I felt even then that the brain within the shapely head was keen +and bright as polished steel; that this woman was one made to rule, not to be +man’s toy, or even his loving companion, but to use him for her ends. +</p> + +<p> +She dropped her chin till it hid the little, dimple-like depression below her +throat, which was one of her charms, and began not to look at, but to study me, +seeing which I shut my eyes tight and waited. Evidently she thought that I was +still in my swoon, for now she spoke to herself in a low voice that was soft +and sweet as honey. +</p> + +<p> +“A small man,” she said; “Saduko would make two of him, and +the other”—who was he, I wondered—“three. His hair, +too, is ugly; he cuts it short and it sticks up like that on a cat’s +back. <i>Iya!</i>” (i.e. Piff!), and she moved her hand contemptuously, +“a feather of a man. But white—white, one of those who rule. Why, +they all of them know that he is their master. They call him +‘He-who-never-Sleeps.’ They say that he has the courage of a +lioness with young—he who got away when Dingaan killed <i>Piti</i> +[Retief] and the Boers; they say that he is quick and cunning as a snake, and +that Panda and his great <i>indunas</i> think more of him than of any white man +they know. He is unmarried also, though they say, too, that twice he had a +wife, who died, and now he does not turn to look at women, which is strange in +any man, and shows that he will escape trouble and succeed. Still, it must be +remembered that they are all ugly down here in Zululand, cows, or heifers who +will be cows. <i>Piff!</i> no more.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused for a little while, then went on in her dreamy, reflective voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, if he met a woman who is not merely a cow or a heifer, a woman +cleverer than himself, even if she were not white, I wonder—” +</p> + +<p> +At this point I thought it well to wake up. Turning my head I yawned, opened my +eyes and looked at her vaguely, seeing which her expression changed in a flash +from that of brooding power to one of moved and anxious girlhood; in short, it +became most sweetly feminine. +</p> + +<p> +“You are Mameena?” I said; “is it not so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” she answered, “that is my poor +name. But how did you hear it, and how do you know me?” +</p> + +<p> +“I heard it from one Saduko”—here she frowned a +little—“and others, and I knew you because you are so +beautiful”—an incautious speech at which she broke into a dazzling +smile and tossed her deer-like head. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I?” she asked. “I never knew it, who am only a common +Zulu girl to whom it pleases the great white chief to say kind things, for +which I thank him”; and she made a graceful little reverence, just +bending one knee. “But,” she went on quickly, “whatever else +I be, I am of no knowledge, not fit to tend you who are hurt. Shall I go and +send my oldest mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean her whom your father calls the +‘Worn-out-old-Cow,’ and whose ear he shot off?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it must be she from the description,” she answered with a +little shake of laughter, “though I never heard him give her that +name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or if you did, you have forgotten it,” I said dryly. “Well, +I think not, thank you. Why trouble her, when you will do quite as well? If +there is milk in that gourd, perhaps you will give me a drink of it.” +</p> + +<p> +She flew to the bowl like a swallow, and next moment was kneeling at my side +and holding it to my lips with one hand, while with the other she supported my +head. +</p> + +<p> +“I am honoured,” she said. “I only came to the hut the moment +before you woke, and seeing you still lost in swoon, I wept—look, my eyes +are still wet [they were, though how she made them so I do not know]—for +I feared lest that sleep should be but the beginning of the last.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” I said; “it is very good of you. And now, since +your fears are groundless—thanks be to the heavens—sit down, if you +will, and tell me the story of how I came here.” +</p> + +<p> +She sat down, not, I noted, as a Kafir woman ordinarily does, in a kind of +kneeling position, but on a stool. +</p> + +<p> +“You were carried into the kraal, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” she said, +“on a litter of boughs. My heart stood still when I saw that litter +coming; it was no more heart; it was cold iron, because I thought the dead or +injured man was—” And she paused. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko?” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all, <i>Inkoosi</i>—my father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it wasn’t either of them,” I said, “so you must +have felt happy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Happy! <i>Inkoosi</i>, when the guest of our house had been wounded, +perhaps to death—the guest of whom I have heard so much, although by +misfortune I was absent when he arrived.” +</p> + +<p> +“A difference of opinion with your eldest mother?” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>Inkoosi;</i> my own is dead, and I am not too well treated here. +She called me a witch.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did she?” I answered. “Well, I do not altogether wonder at +it; but please continue your story.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is none, <i>Inkoosi</i>. They brought you here, they told me how +the evil brute of a buffalo had nearly killed you in the pool; that is +all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, Mameena; but how did I get out of the pool?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it seems that your servant, Sikauli, the bastard, leapt into the +water and engaged the attention of the buffalo which was kneading you into the +mud, while Saduko got on to its back and drove his assegai down between its +shoulders to the heart, so that it died. Then they pulled you out of the mud, +crushed and almost drowned with water, and brought you to life again. But +afterwards you became senseless, and so lay wandering in your speech until this +hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, he is a brave man, is Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +“Like others, neither more nor less,” she replied with a shrug of +her rounded shoulders. “Would you have had him let you die? I think the +brave man was he who got in front of the bull and twisted its nose, not he who +sat on its back and poked at it with a spear.” +</p> + +<p> +At this period in our conversation I became suddenly faint and lost count of +things, even of the interesting Mameena. When I awoke again she was gone, and +in her place was old Umbezi, who, I noticed, took down a mat from the side of +the hut and folded it up to serve as a cushion before he sat himself upon the +stool. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Macumazahn,” he said when he saw that I was awake; +“how are you?” +</p> + +<p> +“As well as can be hoped,” I answered; “and how are you, +Umbezi?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, bad, Macumazahn; even now I can scarcely sit down, for that bull had +a very hard nose; also I am swollen up in front where Sikauli struck me when he +tumbled out of the tree. Also my heart is cut in two because of our +losses.” +</p> + +<p> +“What losses, Umbezi?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wow!</i> Macumazahn, the fire that those low fellows of mine lit got +to our camp and burned up nearly everything—the meat, the skins, and even +the ivory, which it cracked so that it is useless. That was an unlucky hunt, +for although it began so well, we have come out of it quite naked; yes, with +nothing at all except the head of the bull with the cleft horn, that I thought +you might like to keep.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Umbezi, let us be thankful that we have come out with our +lives—that is, if I am going to live,” I added. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Macumazahn, you will live without doubt, and be none the worse. Two +of our doctors—very clever men—have looked at you and said so. One +of them tied you up in all those skins, and I promised him a heifer for the +business, if he cured you, and gave him a goat on account. But you must lie +here for a month or more, so he says. Meanwhile Panda has sent for the hides +which he demanded of me to be made into shields, and I have been obliged to +kill twenty-five of my beasts to provide them—that is, of my own and of +those of my headmen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I wish you and your headmen had killed them before we met those +buffalo, Umbezi,” I groaned, for my ribs were paining me very much. +“Send Saduko and Sikauli here; I would thank them for saving my +life.” +</p> + +<p> +So they came, next morning, I think, and I thanked them warmly enough. +</p> + +<p> +“There, there, Baas,” said Scowl, who was literally weeping tears +of joy at my return from delirium and coma to the light of life and reason; not +tears of Mameena’s sort, but real ones, for I saw them running down his +snub nose, that still bore marks of the eagle’s claws. “There, +there, say no more, I beseech you. If you were going to die, I wished to die, +too, who, if you had left it, should only have wandered through the world +without a heart. That is why I jumped into the pool, not because I am +brave.” +</p> + +<p> +When I heard this my own eyes grew moist. Oh, it is the fashion to abuse +natives, but from whom do we meet with more fidelity and love than from these +poor wild Kafirs that so many of us talk of as black dirt which chances to be +fashioned to the shape of man? +</p> + +<p> +“As for myself, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” added Saduko, “I only did my +duty. How could I have held up my head again if the bull had killed you while I +walked away alive? Why, the very girls would have mocked at me. But, oh, his +skin was tough. I thought that assegai would never get through it.” +</p> + +<p> +Observe the difference between these two men’s characters. The one, +although no hero in daily life, imperils himself from sheer, dog-like fidelity +to a master who had given him many hard words and sometimes a flogging in +punishment for drunkenness, and the other to gratify his pride, also perhaps +because my death would have interfered with his plans and ambitions in which I +had a part to play. No, that is a hard saying; still, there is no doubt that +Saduko always first took his own interests into consideration, and how what he +did would reflect upon his prospects and repute, or influence the attainment of +his desires. I think this was so even when Mameena was concerned—at any +rate, in the beginning—although certainly he always loved her with a +single-hearted passion that is very rare among Zulus. +</p> + +<p> +Presently Scowl left the hut to prepare me some broth, whereon Saduko at once +turned the talk to this subject of Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +He understood that I had seen her. Did I not think her very beautiful? +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, very beautiful,” I answered; “indeed, the most +beautiful Zulu woman I have ever seen.” +</p> + +<p> +And very clever—almost as clever as a white? +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and very clever—much cleverer than most whites.” +</p> + +<p> +And—anything else? +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; very dangerous, and one who could turn like the wind and blow hot +and blow cold.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he said, thought a while, then added: “Well, what do I +care how she blows to others, so long as she blows hot to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Saduko, and does she blow hot for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not altogether, Macumazahn.” Another pause. “I think she +blows rather like the wind before a great storm.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is a biting wind, Saduko, and when we feel it we know that the +storm will follow.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say that the storm will follow, <i>Inkoosi</i>, for she was born +in a storm and storm goes with her; but what of that, if she and I stand it out +together? I love her, and I had rather die with her than live with any other +woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“The question is, Saduko, whether she would rather die with you than live +with any other man. Does she say so?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>, Mameena’s thought works in the dark; it is like a +white ant in its tunnel of mud. You see the tunnel which shows that she is +thinking, but you do not see the thought within. Still, sometimes, when she +believes that no one beholds or hears her”—here I bethought me of +the young lady’s soliloquy over my apparently senseless +self—“or when she is surprised, the true thought peeps out of its +tunnel. It did so the other day, when I pleaded with her after she had heard +that I killed the buffalo with the cleft horn. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Do I love you?’ she said. ‘I know not for sure. How +can I tell? It is not our custom that a maiden should love before she is +married, for if she did so most marriages would be things of the heart and not +of cattle, and then half the fathers of Zululand would grow poor and refuse to +rear girl-children who would bring them nothing. You are brave, you are +handsome, you are well-born; I would sooner live with you than with any other +man I know—that is, if you were rich and, better still, powerful. Become +rich and powerful, Saduko, and I think that I shall love you.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘I will, Mameena,’ I answered; ‘but you must wait. The +Zulu nation was not fashioned from nothing in a day. First Chaka had to +come.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Ah!’ she said, and, my father, her eyes flashed. ‘Ah! +Chaka! There was a man! Be another Chaka, Saduko, and I will love you +more—more than you can dream of—thus and thus,’ and she flung +her arms about me and kissed me as I was never kissed before, which, as you +know, among us is a strange thing for a girl to do. Then she thrust me from her +with a laugh, and added: ‘As for the waiting, you must ask my father of +that. Am I not his heifer, to be sold, and can I disobey my father?’ And +she was gone, leaving me empty, for it seemed as though she took my vitals with +her. Nor will she talk thus any more, the white ant who has gone back into its +tunnel.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you speak to her father?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I spoke to him, but in an evil moment, for he had but just killed +the cattle to furnish Panda’s shields. He answered me very roughly. He +said: ‘You see these dead beasts which I and my people must slay for the +king, or fall under his displeasure? Well, bring me five times their number, +and we will talk of your marriage with my daughter, who is a maid in some +request.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I answered that I understood and would try my best, whereon he became +more gentle, for Umbezi has a kindly heart. +</p> + +<p> +“‘My son,’ he said, ‘I like you well, and since I saw +you save Macumazahn, my friend, from that mad wild beast of a buffalo I like +you better than before. Yet you know my case. I have an old name and am called +the chief of a tribe, and many live on me. But I am poor, and this daughter of +mine is worth much. Such a woman few men have bred. Well, I must make the best +of her. My son-in-law must be one who will prop up my old age, one to whom, in +my need or trouble, I could always go as to a dry log,<a href="#fn-4.1" +name="fnref-4.1" id="fnref-4.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> to break off some of its +bark to make a fire to comfort me, not one who treads me into the mire as the +buffalo did to Macumazahn. Now I have spoken, and I do not love such talk. Come +back with the cattle, and I will listen to you, but meanwhile understand that I +am not bound to you or to anyone; I shall take what my spirit sends me, which, +if I may judge the future by the past, will not be much. One word more: Do not +linger about this kraal too long, lest it should be said that you are the +accepted suitor of Mameena. Go hence and do a man’s work, and return with +a man’s reward, or not at all.’” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-4.1" id="fn-4.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-4.1">[1]</a> +In Zululand a son-in-law is known as <i>isigodo so mkwenyana</i>, the +“son-in-law log,” for the reason stated in the +text.—E<small>DITOR</small>.] +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Saduko, that spear has an edge on it, has it not?” I +answered. “And now, what is your plan?” +</p> + +<p> +“My plan is, Macumazahn,” he said, rising from his seat, “to +go hence and gather those who are friendly to me because I am my father’s +son and still the chief of the Amangwane, or those who are left of them, +although I have no kraal and no hoof of kine. Then, within a moon, I hope, I +shall return here to find you strong again and once more a man, and we will +start out against Bangu, as I have whispered to you, with the leave of a High +One, who has said that, if I can take any cattle, I may keep them for my +pains.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know about that, Saduko. I never promised you that I would +make war upon Bangu—with or without the king’s leave.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you never promised, but Zikali the Dwarf, the Wise Little One, said +that you would—and does Zikali lie? Ask yourself, who will remember a +certain saying of his about a buffalo with a cleft horn, a pool and a dry +river-bed. Farewell, O my father Macumazahn; I walk with the dawn, and I leave +Mameena in your keeping.” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean that you leave me in Mameena’s keeping,” I began, +but already he was crawling through the hole in the hut. +</p> + +<p> +Well, Mameena kept me very comfortably. She was always in evidence, yet not too +much so. +</p> + +<p> +Heedless of her malice and abuse, she headed off the +“Worn-out-old-Cow,” whom she knew I detested, from my presence. She +saw personally to my bandages, as well as to the cooking of my food, over which +matter she had several quarrels with the bastard, Scowl, who did not like her, +for on him she never wasted any of her sweet looks. Also, as I grew stronger, +she sat with me a good deal, talking, since, by common consent, Mameena the +fair was exempted from all the field, and even the ordinary household labours +that fall to the lot of Kafir women. Her place was to be the ornament and, I +may add, the advertisement of her father’s kraal. Others might do the +work, and she saw that they did it. +</p> + +<p> +We discussed all sorts of things, from the Christian and other religions and +European policy down, for her thirst for knowledge seemed to be insatiable. But +what really interested her was the state of affairs in Zululand, with which she +knew I was well acquainted, as a person who had played a part in its history +and who was received and trusted at the Great House, and as a white man who +understood the designs and plans of the Boers and of the Governor of Natal. +</p> + +<p> +Now, if the old king, Panda, should chance to die, she would ask me, which of +his sons did I think would succeed him—Umbelazi or Cetewayo, or another? +Or, if he did not chance to die, which of them would he name his heir? +</p> + +<p> +I replied that I was not a prophet, and that she had better ask Zikali the +Wise. +</p> + +<p> +“That is a very good idea,” she said, “only I have no one to +take me to him, since my father would not allow me to go with Saduko, his +ward.” Then she clapped her hands and added: “Oh, Macumazahn, will +you take me? My father would trust me with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I dare say,” I answered; “but the question is, could I +trust myself with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” she asked. “Oh, I understand. Then, after +all, I am more to you than a black stone to play with?” +</p> + +<p> +I think it was that unlucky joke of mine which first set Mameena thinking, +“like a white ant in its tunnel,” as Saduko said. At least, after +it her manner towards me changed; she became very deferential; she listened to +my words as though they were all wisdom; I caught her looking at me with her +soft eyes as though I were quite an admirable object. She began to talk to me +of her difficulties, her troubles and her ambitions. She asked me for my advice +as to Saduko. On this point I replied to her that, if she loved him, and her +father would allow it, presumably she had better marry him. +</p> + +<p> +“I like him well enough, Macumazahn, although he wearies me at times; but +love— Oh, tell me, <i>what</i> is love?” Then she clasped her slim +hands and gazed at me like a fawn. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word, young woman,” I replied, “that is a matter +upon which I should have thought you more competent to instruct me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Macumazahn,” she said almost in a whisper, and letting her +head droop like a fading lily, “you have never given me the chance, have +you?” And she laughed a little, looking extremely attractive. +</p> + +<p> +“Good gracious!”—or, rather, its Zulu equivalent—I +answered, for I began to feel nervous. “What do you mean, Mameena? How +could I—” There I stopped. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know what I mean, Macumazahn,” she exclaimed wildly, +“but I know well enough what you mean—that you are white as snow +and I am black as soot, and that snow and soot don’t mix well +together.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I answered gravely, “snow is good to look at, and so is +soot, but mingled they make an ugly colour. Not that you are like soot,” +I added hastily, fearing to hurt her feelings. “That is your +hue”—and I touched a copper bangle she was wearing—“a +very lovely hue, Mameena, like everything else about you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lovely,” she said, beginning to weep a little, which upset me very +much, for if there is one thing I hate, it is to see a woman cry. “How +can a poor Zulu girl be lovely? Oh, Macumazahn, the spirits have dealt hardly +with me, who have given me the colour of my people and the heart of yours. If I +were white, now, what you are pleased to call this loveliness of mine would be +of some use to me, for then— then— Oh, cannot you guess, +Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +I shook my head and said that I could not, and next moment was sorry, for she +proceeded to explain. +</p> + +<p> +Sinking to her knees—for we were quite alone in the big hut and there was +no one else about, all the other women being engaged on rural or domestic +tasks, for which Mameena declared she had no time, as her business was to look +after me—she rested her shapely head upon my knees and began to talk in a +low, sweet voice that sometimes broke into a sob. +</p> + +<p> +“Then I will tell you—I will tell you; yes, even if you hate me +afterwards. I could teach you what love is very well, Macumazahn; you are quite +right—because I love you.” (<i>Sob</i>.) “No, you shall not +stir till you have heard me out.” Here she flung her arms about my legs +and held them tight, so that without using great violence it was absolutely +impossible for me to move. “When I saw you first, all shattered and +senseless, snow seemed to fall upon my heart, and it stopped for a little while +and has never been the same since. I think that something is growing in it, +Macumazahn, that makes it big.” (<i>Sob</i>.) “I used to like +Saduko before that, but afterwards I did not like him at all—no, nor +Masapo either—you know, he is the big chief who lives over the mountain, +a very rich and powerful man, who, I believe, would like to marry me. Well, as +I went on nursing you my heart grew bigger and bigger, and now you see it has +burst.” (<i>Sob</i>.) “Nay, stay still and do not try to speak. You +<i>shall</i> hear me out. It is the least you can do, seeing that you have +caused me all this pain. If you did not want me to love you, why did you not +curse at me and strike me, as I am told white men do to Kafir girls?” She +rose and went on: +</p> + +<p> +“Now, hearken. Although I am the colour of copper, I am comely. I am +well-bred also; there is no higher blood than ours in Zululand, both on my +father’s and my mother’s side, and, Macumazahn, I have a fire in me +that shows me things. I can be great, and I long for greatness. Take me to +wife, Macumazahn, and I swear to you that in ten years I will make you king of +the Zulus. Forget your pale white women and wed yourself to that fire which +burns in me, and it shall eat up all that stands between you and the Crown, as +flame eats up dry grass. More, I will make you happy. If you choose to take +other wives, I will not be jealous, because I know that I should hold your +spirit, and that, compared to me, they would be nothing in your +thought—” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mameena,” I broke in, “I don’t want to be king of +the Zulus.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, yes, you do, for every man wants power, and it is better to +rule over a brave, black people—thousands and thousands of +them—than to be no one among the whites. Think, think! There is wealth in +the land. By your skill and knowledge the <i>amabuto</i> [regiments] could be +improved; with the wealth you would arm them with guns—yes, and +‘by-and-byes’ also with the throat of thunder” (that is, or +was, the Kafir name for cannon).<a href="#fn-4.2" name="fnref-4.2" id="fnref-4.2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> +“They would be invincible. Chaka’s kingdom would be nothing to +ours, for a hundred thousand warriors would sleep on their spears, waiting for +your word. If you wished it even you could sweep out Natal and make the whites +there your subjects, too. Or perhaps it would be safer to let them be, lest +others should come across the green water to help them, and to strike +northwards, where I am told there are great lands as rich and fair, in which +none would dispute our sovereignty—” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-4.2" id="fn-4.2"></a> <a href="#fnref-4.2">[2]</a> +Cannon were called “by-and-byes” by the natives, because when +field-pieces first arrived in Natal inquisitive Kafirs pestered the soldiers to +show them how they were fired. The answer given was always +“By-and-bye!” Hence the name.—E<small>DITOR</small>. +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mameena,” I gasped, for this girl’s titanic ambition +literally overwhelmed me, “surely you are mad! How would you do all these +things?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not mad,” she answered; “I am only what is called +great, and you know well enough that I can do them, not by myself, who am but a +woman and tied with the ropes that bind women, but with you to cut those ropes +and help me. I have a plan which will not fail. But, Macumazahn,” she +added in a changed voice, “until I know that you will be my partner in it +I will not tell it even to you, for perhaps you might talk—in your sleep, +and then the fire in my breast would soon go out—for ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“I might talk now, for the matter of that, Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +“No; for men like you do not tell tales of foolish girls who chance to +love them. But if that plan began to work, and you heard say that kings or +princes died, it might be otherwise. You might say, ‘I think I know where +the witch lives who causes these evils’—in your sleep, +Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mameena,” I said, “tell me no more. Setting your dreams on +one side, can I be false to my friend, Saduko, who talks to me day and night of +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko! <i>Piff!</i>” she exclaimed, with that expressive gesture +of her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“And can I be false,” I continued, seeing that Saduko was no good +card to play, “to my friend, Umbezi, your father?” +</p> + +<p> +“My father!” she laughed. “Why, would it not please him to +grow great in your shadow? Only yesterday he told me to marry you, if I could, +for then he would find a stick indeed to lean on, and be rid of Saduko’s +troubling.” +</p> + +<p> +Evidently Umbezi was a worse card even than Saduko, so I played another. +</p> + +<p> +“And can I help you, Mameena, to tread a road that at the best must be +red with blood?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not,” she asked, “since with or without you I am +destined to tread that road, the only difference being that with you it will +lead to glory and without you perhaps to the jackals and the vultures? Blood! +<i>Piff!</i> What is blood in Zululand?” +</p> + +<p> +This card also having failed, I tabled my last. +</p> + +<p> +“Glory or no glory, I do not wish to share it, Mameena. I will not make +war among a people who have entertained me hospitably, or plot the downfall of +their Great Ones. As you told me just now, I am nobody—just one grain of +sand upon a white shore—but I had rather be that than a haunted rock +which draws the heavens’ lightnings and is drenched with sacrifice. I +seek no throne over white or black, Mameena, who walk my own path to a quiet +grave that shall perhaps not be without honour of its own, though other than +you seek. I will keep your counsel, Mameena, but, because you are so beautiful +and so wise, and because you say you are fond of me—for which I thank +you—I pray you put away these fearful dreams of yours that in the end, +whether they succeed or fail, will send you shivering from the world to give +account of them to the Watcher-on-high.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, O Macumazana,” she said, with a proud little laugh. +“When your Watcher sowed my seed—if thus he did—he sowed the +dreams that are a part of me also, and I shall only bring him back his own, +with the flower and the fruit by way of interest. But that is finished. You +refuse the greatness. Now, tell me, if I sink those dreams in a great water, +tying about them the stone of forgetfulness and saying: ‘Sleep there, O +dreams; it is not your hour’—if I do this, and stand before you +just a woman who loves and who swears by the spirits of her fathers never to +think or do that which has not your blessing—will you love me a little, +Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +Now I was silent, for she had driven me to the last ditch, and I knew not what +to say. Moreover, I will confess my weakness—I was strangely moved. This +beautiful girl with the “fire in her heart,” this woman who was +different from all other women that I had ever known, seemed to have twisted +her slender fingers into my heart-strings and to be drawing me towards her. It +was a great temptation, and I bethought me of old Zikali’s saying in the +Black Kloof, and seemed to hear his giant laugh. +</p> + +<p> +She glided up to me, she threw her arms about me and kissed me on the lips, and +I think I kissed her back, but really I am not sure what I did or said, for my +head swam. When it cleared again she was standing in front of me, looking at me +reflectively. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Macumazahn,” she said, with a little smile that both mocked +and dazzled, “the poor black girl has you, the wise, experienced white +man, in her net, and I will show you that she can be generous. Do you think +that I do not read your heart, that I do not know that you believe I am +dragging you down to shame and ruin? Well, I spare you, Macumazahn, since you +have kissed me and spoken words which already you may have forgotten, but which +I do not forget. Go your road, Macumazahn, and I go mine, since the proud white +man shall not be stained with my black touch. Go your road; but one thing I +forbid you—to believe that you have been listening to lies, and that I +have merely played off a woman’s arts upon you for my own ends. I love +you, Macumazahn, as you will never be loved till you die, and I shall never +love any other man, however many I may marry. Moreover, you shall promise me +one thing—that once in my life, and once only, if I wish it, you shall +kiss me again before all men. And now, lest you should be moved to folly and +forget your white man’s pride, I bid you farewell, O Macumazana. When we +meet again it will be as friends only.” +</p> + +<p> +Then she went, leaving me feeling smaller than ever I felt in my life, before +or since—even smaller than when I walked into the presence of old Zikali +the Wise. Why, I wondered, had she first made a fool of me, and then thrown +away the fruits of my folly? To this hour I cannot quite answer the question, +though I believe the explanation to be that she did really care for me, and was +anxious not to involve me in trouble and her plottings; also she may have been +wise enough to see that our natures were as oil and water and would never +blend. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>Chapter V.<br /> +TWO BUCKS AND THE DOE</h2> + +<p> +It may be thought that, as a sequel to this somewhat remarkable scene in which +I was absolutely bowled over—perhaps bowled out would be a better +term—by a Kafir girl who, after bending me to her will, had the genius to +drop me before I repented, as she knew I would do so soon as her back was +turned, thereby making me look the worst of fools, that my relations with that +young lady would have been strained. But not a bit of it. When next we met, +which was on the following morning, she was just her easy, natural self, +attending to my hurts, which by now were almost well, joking about this and +that, inquiring as to the contents of certain letters which I had received from +Natal, and of some newspapers that came with them—for on all such matters +she was very curious—and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +Impossible, the clever critic will say—impossible that a savage could act +with such finish. Well, friend critic, that is just where you are wrong. When +you come to add it up there’s very little difference in all main and +essential matters between the savage and yourself. +</p> + +<p> +To begin with, by what exact right do we call people like the Zulus savages? +Setting aside the habit of polygamy, which, after all, is common among very +highly civilised peoples in the East, they have a social system not unlike our +own. They have, or had, their king, their nobles, and their commons. They have +an ancient and elaborate law, and a system of morality in some ways as high as +our own, and certainly more generally obeyed. They have their priests and their +doctors; they are strictly upright, and observe the rites of hospitality. +</p> + +<p> +Where they differ from us mainly is that they do not get drunk until the white +man teaches them so to do, they wear less clothing, the climate being more +genial, their towns at night are not disgraced by the sights that distinguish +ours, they cherish and are never cruel to their children, although they may +occasionally put a deformed infant or a twin out of the way, and when they go +to war, which is often, they carry out the business with a terrible +thoroughness, almost as terrible as that which prevailed in every nation in +Europe a few generations ago. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, there remain their witchcraft and the cruelties which result from +their almost universal belief in the power and efficiency of magic. Well, since +I lived in England I have been reading up this subject, and I find that quite +recently similar cruelties were practised throughout Europe—that is in a +part of the world which for over a thousand years has enjoyed the advantages of +the knowledge and profession of the Christian faith. +</p> + +<p> +Now, let him who is highly cultured take up a stone to throw at the poor, +untaught Zulu, which I notice the most dissolute and drunken wretch of a white +man is often ready to do, generally because he covets his land, his labour, or +whatever else may be his. +</p> + +<p> +But I wander from my point, which is that a clever man or woman among the +people whom we call savages is in all essentials very much the same as a clever +man or woman anywhere else. +</p> + +<p> +Here in England every child is educated at the expense of the Country, but I +have not observed that the system results in the production of more really able +individuals. Ability is the gift of Nature, and that universal mother sheds her +favours impartially over all who breathe. No, not quite impartially, perhaps, +for the old Greeks and others were examples to the contrary. Still, the general +rule obtains. +</p> + +<p> +To return. Mameena was a very able person, as she chanced to be a very lovely +one, a person who, had she been favoured by opportunity, would doubtless have +played the part of a Cleopatra with equal or greater success, since she shared +the beauty and the unscrupulousness of that famous lady and was, I believe, +capable of her passion. +</p> + +<p> +I scarcely like to mention the matter since it affects myself, and the natural +vanity of man makes him prone to conclude that he is the particular object of +sole and undying devotion. Could he know all the facts of the case, or cases, +probably he would be much undeceived, and feel about as small as I did when +Mameena walked, or rather crawled, out of the hut (she could even crawl +gracefully). Still, to be honest—and why should I not, since all this +business “went beyond” so long ago?—I do believe that there +was a certain amount of truth in what she said—that, for Heaven knows +what reason, she did take a fancy to me, which fancy continued during her short +and stormy life. But the reader of her story may judge for himself. +</p> + +<p> +Within a fortnight of the day of my discomfiture in the hut I was quite well +and strong again, my ribs, or whatever part of me it was that the buffalo had +injured with his iron knees, having mended up. Also, I was anxious to be going, +having business to attend to in Natal, and, as no more had been seen or heard +of Saduko, I determined to trek homewards, leaving a message that he knew where +to find me if he wanted me. The truth is that I was by no means keen on being +involved in his private war with Bangu. Indeed, I wished to wash my hands of +the whole matter, including the fair Mameena and her mocking eyes. +</p> + +<p> +So one morning, having already got up my oxen, I told Scowl to inspan +them—an order which he received with joy, for he and the other boys +wished to be off to civilisation and its delights. Just as the operation was +beginning, however, a message came to me from old Umbezi, who begged me to +delay my departure till after noon, as a friend of his, a big chief, had come +to visit him who wished much to have the honour of making my acquaintance. Now, +I wished the big chief farther off, but, as it seemed rude to refuse the +request of one who had been so kind to me, I ordered the oxen to be unyoked but +kept at hand, and in an irritable frame of mind walked up to the kraal. This +was about half a mile from my place of outspan, for as soon as I was +sufficiently recovered I had begun to sleep in my wagon, leaving the big hut to +the “Worn-out-Old-Cow.” +</p> + +<p> +There was no particular reason why I should be irritated, since time in those +days was of no great account in Zululand, and it did not much matter to me +whether I trekked in the morning or the afternoon. But the fact was that I +could not get over the prophecy of Zikali, “the Little and Wise,” +that I was destined to share Saduko’s expedition against Bangu, and, +although he had been right about the buffalo and Mameena, I was determined to +prove him wrong in this particular. +</p> + +<p> +If I had left the country, obviously I could not go against Bangu, at any rate +at present. But while I remained in it Saduko might return at any moment, and +then, doubtless, I should find it hard to escape from the kind of half-promise +that I had given to him. +</p> + +<p> +Well, as soon as I reached the kraal I saw that some kind of festivity was in +progress, for an ox had been killed and was being cooked, some of it in pots +and some by roasting; also there were several strange Zulus present. Within the +fence of the kraal, seated in its shadow, I found Umbezi and some of his +headmen, and with them a great, brawny “ringed” native, who wore a +tiger-skin moocha as a mark of rank, and some of <i>his</i> headmen. Also +Mameena was standing near the gate, dressed in her best beads and holding a +gourd of Kafir beer which, evidently, she had just been handing to the guests. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you have run away without saying good-bye to me, +Macumazahn?” she whispered to me as I came abreast of her. “That is +unkind of you, and I should have wept much. However, it was not so +fated.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was going to ride up and bid farewell when the oxen were +inspanned,” I answered. “But who is that man?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will find out presently, Macumazahn. Look, my father is beckoning to +us.” +</p> + +<p> +So I went on to the circle, and as I advanced Umbezi rose and, taking me by the +hand, led me to the big man, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“This is Masapo, chief of the Amansomi, of the Quabe race, who desires to +know you, Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very kind of him, I am sure,” I replied coolly, as I threw my eye +over Masapo. He was, as I have said, a big man, and of about fifty years of +age, for his hair was tinged with grey. To be frank, I took a great dislike to +him at once, for there was something in his strong, coarse face, and his air of +insolent pride, which repelled me. Then I was silent, since among the Zulus, +when two strangers of more or less equal rank meet, he who speaks first +acknowledges inferiority to the other. Therefore I stood and contemplated this +new suitor of Mameena, waiting on events. +</p> + +<p> +Masapo also contemplated me, then made some remark to one of his attendants, +that I did not catch, which caused the fellow to laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“He has heard that you are an <i>ipisi</i>” (a great hunter), broke +in Umbezi, who evidently felt that the situation was growing strained, and that +it was necessary to say something. +</p> + +<p> +“Has he?” I answered. “Then he is more fortunate than I am, +for I have never heard of him or what he is.” This, I am sorry to say, +was a fib, for it will be remembered that Mameena had mentioned him in the hut +as one of her suitors, but among natives one must keep up one’s dignity +somehow. “Friend Umbezi,” I went on, “I have come to bid you +farewell, as I am about to trek for Durban.” +</p> + +<p> +At this juncture Masapo stretched out his great hand to me, but without rising, +and said: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i> [that is, good-day], White Man.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i>, Black Man,” I answered, just touching his +fingers, while Mameena, who had come up again with her beer, and was facing me, +made a little grimace and tittered. +</p> + +<p> +Now I turned on my heel to go, whereon Masapo said in a coarse, growling voice: +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana, before you leave us I wish to speak with you on a certain +matter. Will it please you to sit aside with me for a while?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, O Masapo.” And I walked away a few yards out of +hearing, whither he followed me. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn,” he said (I give the gist of his remarks, for he did +not come to the point at once), “I need guns, and I am told that you can +provide them, being a trader.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Masapo, I dare say that I can, at a price, though it is a risky +business smuggling guns into Zululand. But might I ask what you need them for? +is it to shoot elephants?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, to shoot elephants,” he replied, rolling his big eyes round +him. “Macumazahn, I am told that you are discreet, that you do not shout +from the top of a hut what you hear within it. Now, hearken to me. Our country +is disturbed; we do not all of us love the seed of Senzangakona, of whom the +present king, Panda, is one. For instance, you may know that we +Quabies—for my tribe, the Amansomi, are of that race—suffered at +the spear of Chaka. Well, we think that a time may come when we who live on +shrubs like goats may again browse on tree-tops like giraffes, for Panda is no +strong king, and he has sons who hate each other, one of whom may need our +spears. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand that you want guns, O Masapo,” I answered dryly. +“Now, as to the price and place of delivery.” +</p> + +<p> +Then we bargained for a while, but the details of that business transaction of +long ago will interest no one. Indeed, I only mention the matter to show that +Masapo was plotting to bring trouble on the ruling house, whereof Panda was the +representative at that time. +</p> + +<p> +When we had concluded our rather nefarious negotiations, which were to the +effect that I was to receive so many cattle in return for so many guns, if I +could deliver them at a certain spot, namely, Umbezi’s kraal, I returned +to the circle where Umbezi, his followers and guests were sitting, purposing to +bid him farewell. By now, however, meat had been served, and as I was hungry, +having had little breakfast that morning, I stayed to eat. When I had finished +my meal, and washed it down with a draught of <i>tshwala</i> (that is, Kafir +beer), I rose to go, but just at that moment who should walk through the gate +but Saduko? +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Piff!</i>” said Mameena, who was standing near me, speaking in +a voice that none but I could hear. “When two bucks meet, what happens, +Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sometimes they fight and sometimes one runs away. It depends very much +on the doe,” I answered in the same low voice, looking at her. +</p> + +<p> +She shrugged her shoulders, folded her arms beneath her breast, nodded to +Saduko as he passed, then leaned gracefully against the fence and awaited +events. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Umbezi,” said Saduko in his proud manner. “I see +that you feast. Am I welcome here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you are always welcome, Saduko,” replied Umbezi +uneasily, “although, as it happens, I am entertaining a great man.” +And he looked towards Masapo. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said Saduko, eyeing the strangers. “But which of +these may be the great man? I ask that I may salute him.” +</p> + +<p> +“You know well enough, <i>umfokazana</i>” (that is, low fellow), +exclaimed Masapo angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“I know that if you were outside this fence, Masapo, I would cram that +word down your throat at the point of my assegai,” replied Saduko in a +fierce voice. “Oh, I can guess your business here, Masapo, and you can +guess mine,” and he glanced towards Mameena. “Tell me, Umbezi, is +this little chief of the Amansomi your daughter’s accepted suitor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, nay, Saduko,” said Umbezi; “no one is her accepted +suitor. Will you not sit down and take food with us? Tell us where you have +been, and why you return here thus suddenly, and—uninvited?” +</p> + +<p> +“I return here, O Umbezi, to speak with the white chief, Macumazahn. As +to where I have been, that is my affair, and not yours or +Masapo’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, if I were chief of this kraal,” said Masapo, “I would +hunt out of it this hyena with a mangy coat and without a hole who comes to +devour your meat and, perhaps,” he added with meaning, “to steal +away your child.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did I not tell you, Macumazahn, that when two bucks met they would +fight?” whispered Mameena suavely into my ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Mameena, you did—or rather I told you. But you did not tell +me what the doe would do.” +</p> + +<p> +“The doe, Macumazahn, will crouch in her form and see what +happens—as is the fashion of does,” and again she laughed softly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why not do your own hunting, Masapo?” asked Saduko. “Come, +now, I will promise you good sport. Outside this kraal there are other hyenas +waiting who call me chief—a hundred or two of them—assembled for a +certain purpose by the royal leave of King Panda, whose House, as we all know, +you hate. Come, leave that beef and beer and begin your hunting of hyenas, O +Masapo.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Masapo sat silent, for he saw that he who thought to snare a baboon had +caught a tiger. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not speak, O Chief of the little Amansomi,” went on Saduko, +who was beside himself with rage and jealousy. “You will not leave your +beef and beer to hunt the hyenas who are captained by an <i>umfokazana!</i> +Well, then, the <i>umfokazana</i> will speak,” and, stepping up to +Masapo, with the spear he carried poised in his right hand, Saduko grasped his +rival’s short beard with his left. +</p> + +<p> +“Listen, Chief,” he said. “You and I are enemies. You seek +the woman I seek, and, mayhap, being rich, you will buy her. But if so, I tell +you that I will kill you and all your House, you sneaking, half-bred +dog!” +</p> + +<p> +With these fierce words he spat in his face and tumbled him backwards. Then, +before anyone could stop him, for Umbezi, and even Masapo’s headmen, +seemed paralysed with surprise, he stalked through the kraal gate, saying as he +passed me: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Inkoosi</i>, I have words for you when you are at liberty.” +</p> + +<p> +“You shall pay for this,” roared Umbezi after him, turning almost +green with rage, for Masapo still lay upon his broad back, speechless, +“you who dare to insult my guest in my own house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Somebody must pay,” cried back Saduko from the gate, “but +who it is only the unborn moons will see.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mameena,” I said as I followed him, “you have set fire to +the grass, and men will be burned in it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I meant to, Macumazahn,” she answered calmly. “Did I not +tell you that there was a flame in me, and it will break out sometimes? But, +Macumazahn, it is you who have set fire to the grass, not I. Remember that when +half Zululand is in ashes. Farewell, O Macumazana, till we meet again, +and,” she added softly, “whoever else must burn, may the spirits +have <i>you</i> in their keeping.” +</p> + +<p> +At the gate, remembering my manners, I turned to bid that company a polite +farewell. By now Masapo had gained his feet, and was roaring out like a bull: +</p> + +<p> +“Kill him! Kill the hyena! Umbezi, will you sit still and see me, your +guest—me, Masapo—struck and insulted under the shadow of your own +hut? Go forth and kill him, I say!” +</p> + +<p> +“Why not kill him yourself, Masapo,” asked the agitated Umbezi, +“or bid your headmen kill him? Who am I that I should take precedence of +so great a chief in a matter of the spear?” Then he turned towards me, +saying: “Oh, Macumazahn the crafty, if I have dealt well by you, come +here and give me your counsel.” +</p> + +<p> +“I come, Eater-up-of-Elephants,” I answered, and I did. +</p> + +<p> +“What shall I do—what shall I do?” went on Umbezi, brushing +the perspiration off his brow with one hand, while he wrung the other in his +agitation. “There stands a friend of mine”—he pointed to the +infuriated Masapo—“who wishes me to kill another friend of +mine,” and he jerked his thumb towards the kraal gate. “If I refuse +I offend one friend, and if I consent I bring blood upon my hands which will +call for blood, since, although Saduko is poor, without doubt he has those who +love him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered, “and perhaps you will bring blood upon +other parts of yourself besides your hands, since Saduko is not one to sit +still like a sheep while his throat is cut. Also did he not say that he is not +quite alone? Umbezi, if you will take my advice, you will leave Masapo to do +his own killing.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is good; it is wise!” exclaimed Umbezi. “Masapo,” +he called to that warrior, “if you wish to fight, pray do not think of +me. I see nothing, I hear nothing, and I promise proper burial to any who fall. +Only you had best be swift, for Saduko is walking away all this time. Come, you +and your people have spears, and the gate stands open.” +</p> + +<p> +“Am I to go without my meat in order to knock that hyena on the +head?” asked Masapo in a brave voice. “No, he can wait my leisure. +Sit still, my people. I tell you, sit still. Tell him, you Macumazahn, that I +am coming for him presently, and be warned to keep yourself away from him, lest +you should tumble into his hole.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will tell him,” I answered, “though I know not who made me +your messenger. But listen to me, you Speaker of big words and Doer of small +deeds, if you dare to lift a finger against me I will teach you something about +holes, for there shall be one or more through that great carcass of +yours.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, walking up to him, I looked him in the face, and at the same time tapped +the handle of the big double-barrelled pistol I carried. +</p> + +<p> +He shrank back muttering something. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t apologise,” I said, “only be more careful in +future. And now I wish you a good dinner, Chief Masapo, and peace upon your +kraal, friend Umbezi.” +</p> + +<p> +After this speech I marched off, followed by the clamour of Masapo’s +furious attendants and the sound of Mameena’s light and mocking laughter. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder which of them she will marry?” I thought to myself, as I +set out for the wagons. +</p> + +<p> +As I approached my camp I saw that the oxen were being inspanned, as I supposed +by the order of Scowl, who must have heard that there was a row up at the +kraal, and thought it well to be ready to bolt. In this I was mistaken, +however, for just then Saduko strolled out of a patch of bush and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I ordered your boys to yoke up the oxen, <i>Inkoosi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you? That’s cool!” I answered. “Perhaps you will +tell me why.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because we must make a good trek to the northward before night, +<i>Inkoosi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! I thought that I was heading south-east.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bangu does not live in the south or the east,” he replied slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I had almost forgotten about Bangu,” I said, with a rather +feeble attempt at evasion. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so?” he answered in his haughty voice. “I never knew +before that Macumazahn was a man who broke a promise to his friend.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you be so kind as to explain your meaning, Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it needful?” he answered, shrugging his shoulders. +“Unless my ears played me tricks, you agreed to go up with me against +Bangu. Well, I have gathered the necessary men—with the king’s +leave—they await us yonder,” and he pointed with his spear towards +a dense patch of bush that lay some miles beneath us. “But,” he +added, “if you desire to change your mind I will go alone. Only then, I +think, we had better bid each other good-bye, since I love not friends who +change their minds when the assegais begin to shake.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, whether Saduko spoke thus by design I do not know. Certainly, however, he +could have found no better way to ensure my companionship for what it was +worth, since, although I had made no actual promise in this case, I have always +prided myself on keeping even a half-bargain with a native. +</p> + +<p> +“I will go with you,” I said quietly, “and I hope that, when +it comes to the pinch, your spear will be as sharp as your tongue, Saduko. Only +do not speak to me again like that, lest we should quarrel.” +</p> + +<p> +As I said this I saw a look of relief appear on his face, of very great relief. +</p> + +<p> +“I pray your pardon, my lord Macumazahn,” he said, seizing my hand, +“but, oh! there is a hole in my heart. I think that Mameena means to play +me false, and now that has happened with yonder dog, Masapo, which will make +her father hate me.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will take my advice, Saduko,” I replied earnestly, +“you will let this Mameena fall out of the hole in your heart; you will +forget her name; you will have done with her. Ask me not why.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps there is no need, O Macumazana. Perhaps she has been making love +to you, and you have turned her away, as, being what you are, and my friend, of +course you would do.” (It is rather inconvenient to be set upon such a +pedestal at times, but I did not attempt to assent or to deny anything, much +less to enter into explanations.) +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps all this has happened,” he continued, “or perhaps it +is she who has sent for Masapo the Hog. I do not ask, because if you know you +will not tell me. Moreover, it matters nothing. While I have a heart, Mameena +will never drop out of it; while I can remember names, hers will never be +forgotten by me. Moreover, I mean that she shall be my wife. Now, I am minded +to take a few men and spear this hog, Masapo, before we go up against Bangu, +for then he, at any rate, will be out of my road.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you do anything of the sort, Saduko, you will go up against Bangu +alone, for I trek east at once, who will not be mixed up with murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then let it be, <i>Inkoosi;</i> unless he attacks me, as my Snake send +that he may, the Hog can wait. After all, he will only be growing a little +fatter. Now, if it pleases you order the wagons to trek. I will show the road, +for we must camp in that bush to-night where my people wait me, and there I +will tell you my plans; also you will find one with a message for you.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>Chapter VI.<br /> +THE AMBUSH</h2> + +<p> +We had reached the bush after six hours’ downhill trek over a pretty bad +track made by cattle—of course, there were no roads in Zululand at this +date. I remember the place well. It was a kind of spreading woodland on a flat +bottom, where trees of no great size grew sparsely. Some were mimosa thorns, +others had deep green leaves and bore a kind of plum with an acid taste and a +huge stone, and others silver-coloured leaves in their season. A river, too, +low at this time of the year, wound through it, and in the scrub upon its banks +were many guinea-fowl and other birds. It was a pleasing, lonely place, with +lots of game in it, that came here in the winter to eat the grass, which was +lacking on the higher veld. Also it gave the idea of vastness, since wherever +one looked there was nothing to be seen except a sea of trees. +</p> + +<p> +Well, we outspanned by the river, of which I forget the name, at a spot that +Saduko showed us, and set to work to cook our food, that consisted of venison +from a blue wildebeest, one of a herd of these wild-looking animals which I had +been fortunate enough to shoot as they whisked past us, gambolling in and out +between the trees. +</p> + +<p> +While we were eating I observed that armed Zulus arrived continually in parties +of from six to a score of men, and as they arrived lifted their spears, though +whether in salutation to Saduko or to myself I did not know, and sat themselves +down on an open space between us and the river-bank. Although it was difficult +to say whence they came, for they appeared like ghosts out of the bush, I +thought it well to take no notice of them, since I guessed that their coming +was prearranged. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are they?” I whispered to Scowl, as he brought me my tot of +“squareface.” +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko’s wild men,” he answered in the same low voice, +“outlaws of his tribe who live among the rocks.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I scanned them sideways, while pretending to light my pipe and so forth, +and certainly they seemed a remarkably savage set of people. Great, gaunt +fellows with tangled hair, who wore tattered skins upon their shoulders and +seemed to have no possessions save some snuff, a few sleeping-mats, and an +ample supply of large fighting shields, hardwood kerries or knob-sticks, and +broad ixwas, or stabbing assegais. Such was the look of them as they sat round +us in silent semicircles, like <i>aas-vögels</i>—as the Dutch call +vultures—sit round a dying ox. +</p> + +<p> +Still I smoked on and took no notice. +</p> + +<p> +At length, as I expected, Saduko grew weary of my silence and spoke. +“These are men of the Amangwane tribe, Macumazahn; three hundred of them, +all that Bangu left alive, for when their fathers were killed, the women +escaped with some of the children, especially those of the outlying kraals. I +have gathered them to be revenged upon Bangu, I who am their chief by right of +blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” I answered. “I see that you have gathered them; +but do they wish to be revenged on Bangu at the risk of their own lives?” +</p> + +<p> +“We do, white <i>Inkoosi</i>,” came the deep-throated answer from +the three hundred. +</p> + +<p> +“And do they acknowledge you, Saduko, to be their chief?” +</p> + +<p> +“We do,” again came the answer. Then a spokesman stepped forward, +one of the few grey-haired men among them, for most of these Amangwane were of +the age of Saduko, or even younger. +</p> + +<p> +“O Watcher-by-Night,” he said, “I am Tshoza, the brother of +Matiwane, Saduko’s father, the only one of his brothers that escaped the +slaughter on the night of the Great Killing. Is it not so?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so,” exclaimed the serried ranks behind him. +</p> + +<p> +“I acknowledge Saduko as my chief, and so do we all,” went on +Tshoza. +</p> + +<p> +“So do we all,” echoed the ranks. +</p> + +<p> +“Since Matiwane died we have lived as we could, O Macumazana; like +baboons among the rocks, without cattle, often without a hut to shelter us; +here one, there one. Still, we have lived, awaiting the hour of vengeance upon +Bangu, that hour which Zikali the Wise, who is of our blood, has promised to +us. Now we believe that it has come, and one and all, from here, from there, +from everywhere, we have gathered at the summons of Saduko to be led against +Bangu and to conquer him or to die. Is it not so, Amangwane?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is, it is so!” came the deep, unanimous answer, that caused the +stirless leaves to shake in the still air. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand, O Tshoza, brother of Matiwane and uncle of Saduko the +chief,” I replied. “But Bangu is a strong man, living, I am told, +in a strong place. Still, let that go; for have you not said that you come out +to conquer or to die, you who have nothing to lose; and if you conquer, you +conquer; and if you die, you die and the tale is told. But supposing that you +conquer. What will Panda, King of the Zulus, say to you, and to me also, who +stir up war in his country?” +</p> + +<p> +Now the Amangwane looked behind them, and Saduko cried out: +</p> + +<p> +“Appear, messenger from Panda the King!” +</p> + +<p> +Before his words had ceased to echo I saw a little, withered man threading his +way between the tall, gaunt forms of the Amangwane. He came and stood before +me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Hail, Macumazahn. Do you remember me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” I answered, “I remember you as Maputa, one of +Panda’s <i>indunas</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so, Macumazahn; I am Maputa, one of his <i>indunas</i>, a member +of his Council, a captain of his <i>impis</i> [that is, armies], as I was to +his brothers who are gone, whose names it is not lawful that I should name. +Well, Panda the King has sent me to you, at the request of Saduko there, with a +message.” +</p> + +<p> +“How do I know that you are a true messenger?” I asked. “Have +you brought me any token?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” he answered, and, fumbling under his cloak, he produced +something wrapped in dried leaves, which he undid and handed to me, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“This is the token that Panda sends to you, Macumazahn, bidding me to +tell you that you will certainly know it again; also that you are welcome to +it, since the two little bullets which he swallowed as you directed made him +very ill, and he needs no more of them.” +</p> + +<p> +I took the token, and, examining it in the moonlight, recognised it at once. +</p> + +<p> +It was a cardboard box of strong calomel pills, on the top of which was +written: “Allan Quatermain, Esq.: One <i>only</i> to be taken as +directed.” Without entering into explanations, I may state that I had +taken “one as directed,” and subsequently presented the rest of the +box to King Panda, who was very anxious to “taste the white man’s +medicine.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you recognise the token, Macumazahn?” asked the <i>induna</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I replied gravely; “and let the King return thanks to +the spirits of his ancestors that he did not swallow three of the balls, for if +he had done so, by now there would have been another Head in Zululand. Well, +speak on, Messenger.” +</p> + +<p> +But to myself I reflected, not for the first time, how strangely these natives +could mix up the sublime with the ridiculous. Here was a matter that must +involve the death of many men, and the token sent to me by the autocrat who +stood at the back of it all, to prove the good faith of his messenger, was a +box of calomel pills! However, it served the purpose as well as anything else. +</p> + +<p> +Maputa and I drew aside, for I saw that he wished to speak with me alone. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” he said, when we were out of hearing of the others, +“these are the words of Panda to you: ‘I understand that you, +Macumazahn, have promised to accompany Saduko, son of Matiwane, on an +expedition of his against Bangu, chief of the Amakoba. Now, were anyone else +concerned, I should forbid this expedition, and especially should I forbid you, +a white man in my country, to share therein. But this dog of a Bangu is an +evil-doer. Many years ago he worked on the Black One who went before me to send +him to destroy Matiwane, my friend, filling the Black One’s ears with +false accusations; and thereafter he did treacherously destroy him and all his +tribe save Saduko, his son, and some of the people and children who escaped. +Moreover, of late he has been working against me, the King, striving to stir up +rebellion against me, because he knows that I hate him for his crimes. Now I, +Panda, unlike those who went before me, am a man of peace who do not wish to +light the fire of civil war in the land, for who knows where such fires will +stop, or whose kraals they will consume? Yet I do wish to see Bangu punished +for his wickedness, and his pride abated. Therefore I give Saduko leave, and +those people of the Amangwane who remain to him, to avenge their private wrongs +upon Bangu if they can; and I give you leave, Macumazahn, to be of his party. +Moreover, if any cattle are taken, I shall ask no account of them; you and +Saduko may divide them as you wish. But understand, O Macumazana, that if you +or your people are killed or wounded, or robbed of your goods, I know nothing +of the matter, and am not responsible to you or to the white House of Natal; it +is your own matter. These are my words. I have spoken.’” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” I answered. “I am to pull Panda’s hot iron out +of the fire and to extinguish the fire. If I succeed I may keep a piece of the +iron when it gets cool, and if I burn my fingers it is my own fault, and I or +my House must not come crying to Panda.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Watcher-by-Night, you have speared the bull in the heart,” +replied Maputa, the messenger, nodding his shrewd old head. “Well, will +you go up with Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“Say to the King, O Messenger, that I will go up with Saduko because I +promised him that I would, being moved by the tale of his wrongs, and not for +the sake of the cattle, although it is true that if I hear any of them lowing +in my camp I may keep them. Say to Panda also that if aught of ill befalls me +he shall hear nothing of it, nor will I bring his high name into this business; +but that he, on his part, must not blame me for anything that may happen +afterwards. Have you the message?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have it word for word; and may your Spirit be with you, Macumazahn, +when you attack the strong mountain of Bangu, which, were I you,” Maputa +added reflectively, “I think I should do just at the dawn, since the +Amakoba drink much beer and are heavy sleepers.” +</p> + +<p> +Then we took a pinch of snuff together, and he departed at once for Nodwengu, +Panda’s Great Place. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Fourteen days had gone by, and Saduko and I, with our ragged band of Amangwane, +sat one morning, after a long night march, in the hilly country looking across +a broad vale, which was sprinkled with trees like an English park, at that +mountain on the side of which Bangu, chief of the Amakoba, had his kraal. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very formidable mountain, and, as we had already observed, the paths +leading up to the kraal were amply protected with stone walls in which the +openings were quite narrow, only just big enough to allow one ox to pass +through them at a time. Moreover, all these walls had been strengthened +recently, perhaps because Bangu was aware that Panda looked upon him, a +northern chief dwelling on the confines of his dominions, with suspicion and +even active enmity, as he was also no doubt aware Panda had good cause to do. +</p> + +<p> +Here in a dense patch of bush that grew in a kloof of the hills we held a +council of war. +</p> + +<p> +So far as we knew our advance had been unobserved, for I had left my wagons in +the low veld thirty miles away, giving it out among the local natives that I +was hunting game there, and bringing on with me only Scowl and four of my best +hunters, all well-armed natives who could shoot. The three hundred Amangwane +also had advanced in small parties, separated from each other, pretending to be +Kafirs marching towards Delagoa Bay. Now, however, we had all met in this bush. +Among our number were three Amangwane who, on the slaughter of their tribe, had +fled with their mothers to this district and been brought up among the people +of Bangu, but who at his summons had come back to Saduko. It was on these men +that we relied at this juncture, for they alone knew the country. Long and +anxiously did we consult with them. First they explained, and, so far as the +moonlight would allow, for as yet the dawn had not broken, pointed out to us +the various paths that led to Bangu’s kraal. +</p> + +<p> +“How many men are there in the town?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“About seven hundred who carry spears,” they answered, +“together with others in outlying kraals. Moreover, watchmen are always +set at the gateways in the walls.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where are the cattle?” I asked again. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, in the valley beneath, Macumazahn,” answered the spokesman. +“If you listen you will hear them lowing. Fifty men, not less, watch them +at night—two thousand head of them, or more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it would not be difficult to get round these cattle and drive them +off, leaving Bangu to breed up a new herd?” +</p> + +<p> +“It might not be difficult,” interrupted Saduko, “but I came +here to kill Bangu, as well as to seize his cattle, since with him I have a +blood feud.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good,” I answered; “but that mountain cannot be stormed +with three hundred men, fortified as it is with walls and schanzes. Our band +would be destroyed before ever we came to the kraal, since, owing to the +sentries who are set everywhere, it would be impossible to surprise the place. +Also you have forgotten the dogs, Saduko. Moreover, even if it were possible, I +will have nothing to do with the massacre of women and children, which must +happen in an assault. Now, listen to me, O Saduko. I say let us leave the kraal +of Bangu alone, and this coming night send fifty of our men, under the +leadership of the guides, down to yonder bush, where they will lie hid. Then, +after moonrise, when all are asleep, these fifty must rush the cattle kraal, +killing any who may oppose them, should they be seen, and driving the herd out +through yonder great pass by which we have entered the land. Bangu and his +people, thinking that those who have taken the cattle are but common thieves of +some wild tribe, will gather and follow the beasts to recapture them. But we, +with the rest of the Amangwane, can set an ambush in the narrowest part of the +pass among the rocks, where the grass is high and the euphorbia trees grow +thick, and there, when they have passed the Nek, which I and my hunters will +hold with our guns, we will give them battle. What say you?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, Saduko answered that he would rather attack the kraal, which he wished to +burn. But the old Amangwane, Tshoza, brother of the dead Matiwane, said: +</p> + +<p> +“No, Macumazahn, Watcher-by-Night, is wise. Why should we waste our +strength on stone walls, of which none know the number or can find the gates in +the darkness, and thereby leave our skulls to be set up as ornaments on the +fences of the accursed Amakoba? Let us draw the Amakoba out into the pass of +the mountains, where they have no walls to protect them, and there fall on them +when they are bewildered and settle the matter with them man to man. As for the +women and children, with Macumazahn I say let them go; afterwards, perhaps, +they will become <i>our</i> women and children.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” answered the Amangwane, “the plan of the white +<i>Inkoosi</i> is good; he is clever as a weasel; we will have his plan and no +other.” +</p> + +<p> +So Saduko was overruled and my counsel adopted. +</p> + +<p> +All that day we rested, lighting no fires and remaining still as the dead in +the dense bush. It was a very anxious day, for although the place was so wild +and lonely, there was always the fear lest we should be discovered. It was true +that we had travelled mostly by night in small parties, to avoid leaving a +spoor, and avoided all kraals; still, some rumour of our approach might have +reached the Amakoba, or a party of hunters might stumble on us, or those who +sought for lost cattle. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, something of this sort did happen, for about midday we heard a +footfall, and perceived the figure of a man, whom by his head-dress we knew for +an Amakoba, threading his way through the bush. Before he saw us he was in our +midst. For a moment he hesitated ere he turned to fly, and that moment was his +last, for three of the Amangwane leapt on him silently as leopards leap upon a +buck, and where he stood there he died. Poor fellow! Evidently he had been on a +visit to some witch-doctor, for in his blanket we found medicine and love +charms. This doctor cannot have been one of the stamp of Zikali the Dwarf, I +thought to myself; at least, he had not warned him that he would never live to +dose his beloved with that foolish medicine. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile a few of us who had the quickest eyes climbed trees, and thence +watched the town of Bangu and the valley that lay between us and it. Soon we +saw that so far, at any rate, Fortune was playing into our hands, since herd +after herd of kine were driven into the valley during the afternoon and +enclosed in the stock-kraals. Doubtless Bangu intended on the morrow to make +his half-yearly inspection of all the cattle of the tribe, many of which were +herded at a distance from his town. +</p> + +<p> +At length the long day drew to its close and the shadows of the evening +thickened. Then we made ready for our dreadful game, of which the stake was the +lives of all of us, since, should we fail, we could expect no mercy. The fifty +picked men were gathered and ate food in silence. These men were placed under +the command of Tshoza, for he was the most experienced of the Amangwane, and +led by the three guides who had dwelt among the Amakoba, and who “knew +every ant-heap in the land,” or so they swore. Their duty, it will be +remembered, was to cross the valley, separate themselves into small parties, +unbar the various cattle kraals, kill or hunt off the herdsmen, and drive the +beasts back across the valley into the pass. A second fifty men, under the +command of Saduko, were to be left just at the end of this pass where it opened +out into the valley, in order to help and reinforce the cattle-lifters, or, if +need be, to check the following Amakoba while the great herds of beasts were +got away, and then fall back on the rest of us in our ambush nearly two miles +distant. The management of this ambush was to be my charge—a heavy one +indeed. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the moon would not be up till midnight. But two hours before that time we +began our moves, since the cattle must be driven out of the kraals as soon as +she appeared and gave the needful light. Otherwise the fight in the pass would +in all probability be delayed till after sunrise, when the Amakoba would see +how small was the number of their foes. Terror, doubt, darkness—these +must be our allies if our desperate venture was to succeed. +</p> + +<p> +All was arranged at last and the time had come. We, the three captains of our +divided force, bade each other farewell, and passed the word down the ranks +that, should we be separated by the accidents of war, my wagons were the +meeting-place of any who survived. +</p> + +<p> +Tshoza and his fifty glided away into the shadow silently as ghosts and were +gone. Presently the fierce-faced Saduko departed also with his fifty. He +carried the double-barrelled gun I had given him, and was accompanied by one of +my best hunters, a Natal native, who was also armed with a heavy smooth-bore +loaded with slugs. Our hope was that the sound of these guns might terrify the +foe, should there be occasion to use them before our forces joined up again, +and make them think they had to do with a body of raiding Dutch white men, of +whose <i>roers</i>—as the heavy elephant guns of that day were +called—all natives were much afraid. +</p> + +<p> +So Saduko went with his fifty, leaving me wondering whether I should ever see +his face again. Then I, my bearer Scowl, the two remaining hunters, and the ten +score Amangwane who were left turned and soon were following the road by which +we had come down the rugged pass. I call it a road, but, in fact, it was +nothing but a water-washed gully strewn with boulders, through which we must +pick our way as best we could in the darkness, having first removed the +percussion cap from the nipple of every gun, for fear lest the accidental +discharge of one of them should warn the Amakoba, confuse our other parties, +and bring all our deep-laid plans to nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Well, we accomplished that march somehow, walking in three long lines, so that +each man might keep touch with him in front, and just as the moon began to rise +reached the spot that I had chosen for the ambush. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly it was well suited to that purpose. Here the track or gully bed +narrowed to a width of not more than a hundred feet, while the steep slopes of +the kloof on either side were clothed with scattered bushes and finger-like +euphorbias which grew among stones. Behind these stones and bushes we hid +ourselves, a hundred men on one side and a hundred on the other, whilst I and +my three hunters, who were armed with guns, took up a position under shelter of +a great boulder nearly five feet thick that lay but a little to the right of +the gully itself, up which we expected the cattle would come. This place I +chose for two reasons: first, that I might keep touch with both wings of my +force, and, secondly, that we might be able to fire straight down the path on +the pursuing Amakoba. +</p> + +<p> +These were the orders that I gave to the Amangwane, warning them that he who +disobeyed would be punished with death. They were not to stir until I, or, if I +should be killed, one of my hunters, fired a shot; for my fear was lest, +growing excited, they might leap out before the time and kill some of our own +people, who very likely would be mixed up with the first of the pursuing +Amakoba. Secondly, when the cattle had passed and the signal had been given, +they were to rush on the Amakoba, throwing themselves across the gully, so that +the enemy would have to fight upwards on a steep slope. +</p> + +<p> +That was all I told them, since it is not wise to confuse natives by giving too +many orders. One thing I added, however—that they must conquer or they +must die. There was no mercy for them; it was a case of death or victory. Their +spokesman—for these people always find a spokesman—answered that +they thanked me for my advice; that they understood, and that they would do +their best. Then they lifted their spears to me in salute. A wild lot of men +they looked in the moonlight as they departed to take shelter behind the rocks +and trees and wait. +</p> + +<p> +That waiting was long, and I confess that before the end it got upon my nerves. +I began to think of all sorts of things, such as whether I should live to see +the sun rise again; also I reflected upon the legitimacy of this remarkable +enterprise. What right had I to involve myself in a quarrel between these +savages? +</p> + +<p> +Why had I come here? To gain cattle as a trader? No, for I was not at all sure +that I would take them if gained. Because Saduko had twitted me with +faithlessness to my words? Yes, to a certain extent; but that was by no means +the whole reason. I had been moved by the recital of the cruel wrongs inflicted +upon Saduko and his tribe by this Bangu, and therefore had not been loath to +associate myself with his attempted vengeance upon a wicked murderer. Well, +that was sound enough so far as it went; but now a new consideration suggested +itself to me. Those wrongs had been worked many years ago; probably most of the +men who had aided and abetted them by now were dead or very aged, and it was +their sons upon whom the vengeance would be wreaked. +</p> + +<p> +What right had I to assist in visiting the sins of the fathers upon the sons? +Frankly I could not say. The thing seemed to me to be a part of the problem of +life, neither less nor more. So I shrugged my shoulders sadly and consoled +myself by reflecting that very likely the issue would go against me, and that +my own existence would pay the price of the venture and expound its moral. This +consideration soothed my conscience somewhat, for when a man backs his actions +with the risk of his life, right or wrong, at any rate he plays no +coward’s part. +</p> + +<p> +The time went by very slowly and nothing happened. The waning moon shone +brightly in a clear sky, and as there was no wind the silence seemed peculiarly +intense. Save for the laugh of an occasional hyena and now and again for a +sound which I took for the coughing of a distant lion, there was no stir +between sleeping earth and moonlit heaven in which little clouds floated +beneath the pale stars. +</p> + +<p> +At length I thought that I heard a noise, a kind of murmur far away. It grew, +it developed. +</p> + +<p> +It sounded like a thousand sticks tapping upon something hard, very faintly. It +continued to grow, and I knew the sound for that of the beating hoofs of +animals galloping. Then there were isolated noises, very faint and thin; they +might be shouts; then something that I could not mistake—shots fired at a +distance. So the business was afoot; the cattle were moving, Saduko and my +hunter were firing. There was nothing for it but to wait. +</p> + +<p> +The excitement was very fierce; it seemed to consume me, to eat into my brain. +The sound of the tapping upon the rocks grew louder until it merged into a kind +of rumble, mixed with an echo as of that of very distant thunder, which +presently I knew to be not thunder, but the bellowing of a thousand frightened +beasts. +</p> + +<p> +Nearer and nearer came the galloping hoofs and the rumble of bellowings; nearer +and nearer the shouts of men, affronting the stillness of the solemn night. At +length a single animal appeared, a koodoo buck that somehow had got mixed up +with the cattle. It went past us like a flash, and was followed a minute or so +later by a bull that, being young and light, had outrun its companions. That, +too, went by, foam on its lips and its tongue hanging from its jaws. +</p> + +<p> +Then the herd appeared—a countless herd it seemed to me—plunging up +the incline—cows, heifers, calves, bulls, and oxen, all mixed together in +one inextricable mass, and every one of them snorting, bellowing, or making +some other kind of sound. The din was fearful, the sight bewildering, for the +beasts were of all colours, and their long horns flashed like ivory in the +moonlight. Indeed, the only thing in the least like it which I have ever seen +was the rush of the buffaloes from the reed camp on that day when I got my +injury. +</p> + +<p> +They were streaming past us now, a mighty and moving mass so closely packed +that a man might have walked upon their backs. In fact, some of the calves +which had been thrust up by the pressure were being carried along in this +fashion. Glad was I that none of us were in their path, for their advance +seemed irresistible. No fence or wall could have saved us, and even stout trees +that grew in the gully were snapped or thrust over. +</p> + +<p> +At length the long line began to thin, for now it was composed of stragglers +and weak or injured beasts, of which there were many. Other sounds, too, began +to dominate the bellowings of the animals, those of the excited cries of men. +The first of our companions, the cattle-lifters, appeared, weary and gasping, +but waving their spears in triumph. Among them was old Tshoza. I stepped upon +my rock, calling to him by name. He heard me, and presently was lying at my +side panting. +</p> + +<p> +“We have got them all!” he gasped. “Not a hoof is left save +those that are trodden down. Saduko is not far behind with the rest of our +brothers, except some that have been killed. All the Amakoba tribe are after +us. He holds them back to give the cattle time to get away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well done!” I answered. “It is very good. Now make your men +hide among the others that they may find their breath before the fight.” +</p> + +<p> +So he stopped them as they came. Scarcely had the last of them vanished into +the bushes when the gathering volume of shouts, amongst which I heard a gun go +off, told us that Saduko and his band and the pursuing Amakoba were not far +away. Presently they, too, appeared—that is the handful of Amangwane +did—not fighting now, but running as hard as they could, for they knew +they were approaching the ambush and wished to pass it so as not to be mixed up +with the Amakoba. We let them go through us. Among the last of them came +Saduko, who was wounded, for the blood ran down his side, supporting my hunter, +who was also wounded, more severely as I feared. +</p> + +<p> +I called to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko,” I said, “halt at the crest of the path and rest +there so that you may be able to help us presently.” +</p> + +<p> +He waved the gun in answer, for he was too breathless to speak, and went on +with those who were left of his following—perhaps thirty men in +all—in the track of the cattle. Before he was out of sight the Amakoba +arrived, a mob of five or six hundred men mixed up together and advancing +without order or discipline, for they seemed to have lost their heads as well +as their cattle. Some of them had shields and some had none, some broad and +some throwing assegais, while many were quite naked, not having stayed to put +on their moochas and much less their war finery. Evidently they were mad with +rage, for the sounds that issued from them seemed to concentrate into one +mighty curse. +</p> + +<p> +The moment had come, though to tell the truth I heartily wished that it had +not. I wasn’t exactly afraid, although I never set up for great courage, +but I did not quite like the business. After all we were stealing these +people’s cattle, and now were going to kill as many of them as we could. +I had to recall Saduko’s dreadful story of the massacre of his tribe +before I could make up my mind to give the signal. That hardened me, and so did +the reflection that after all they outnumbered us enormously and very likely +would prove victors in the end. Anyhow it was too late to repent. What a tricky +and uncomfortable thing is conscience, that nearly always begins to trouble us +at the moment of, or after, the event, not before, when it might be of some +use. +</p> + +<p> +I raised myself upon the rock and fired both barrels of my gun into the +advancing horde, though whether I killed anyone or no I cannot say. I have +always hoped that I did not; but as the mark was large and I am a fair shot, I +fear that is scarcely possible. Next moment, with a howl that sounded like that +of wild beasts, from either side of the gorge the fierce Amangwane +free-spears—for that is what they were—leapt out of their +hiding-places and hurled themselves upon their hereditary foes. They were +fighting for more than cattle; they were fighting for hate and for revenge +since these Amakoba had slaughtered their fathers and their mothers, their +sisters and their brothers, and they alone remained to pay them back blood for +blood. +</p> + +<p> +Great heaven! how they did fight, more like devils than human beings. After +that first howl which shaped itself to the word “Saduko,” they were +silent as bulldogs. Though they were so few, at first their terrible rush drove +back the Amakoba. Then, as these recovered from their surprise, the weight of +numbers began to tell, for they, too, were brave men who did not give way to +panic. Scores of them went down at once, but the remainder pushed the Amangwane +before them up the hill. I took little share in the fight, but was thrust +backward with the others, only firing when I was obliged to save my own life. +Foot by foot we were pushed back till at length we drew near to the crest of +the pass. +</p> + +<p> +Then, while the issue hung in the balance, there was another shout of +“Saduko!” and that chief himself, followed by his thirty, rushed +upon the Amakoba. +</p> + +<p> +This charge decided the battle, for not knowing how many more were coming, +those who were left of the Amakoba turned and fled, nor did we pursue them far. +</p> + +<p> +We mustered on the hill-top, not more than two hundred of us now, the rest were +fallen or desperately wounded, my poor hunter, whom I had lent to Saduko, being +among the dead. Although wounded, he died fighting to the last, then fell down, +shouting to me: +</p> + +<p> +“Chief, have I done well?” and expired. +</p> + +<p> +I was breathless and spent, but as in a dream I saw some Amangwane drag up a +gaunt old savage, crying: +</p> + +<p> +“Here is Bangu, Bangu the Butcher, whom we have caught alive.” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko stepped up to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Bangu,” he said, “now say, why should I not kill you as +you would have killed the little lad Saduko long ago, had not Zikali saved him? +See, here is the mark of your spear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Kill,” said Bangu. “Your Spirit is stronger than mine. Did +not Zikali foretell it? Kill, Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” answered Saduko. “If you are weary I am weary, too, +and wounded as well. Take a spear, Bangu, and we will fight.” +</p> + +<p> +So they fought there in the moonlight, man to man; fought fiercely while all +watched, till presently I saw Bangu throw his arms wide and fall backwards. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Saduko was avenged. I have always been glad that he slew his enemy thus, and +not as it might have been expected that he would do. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>Chapter VII.<br /> +SADUKO BRINGS THE MARRIAGE GIFT</h2> + +<p> +We reached my wagons in the early morning of the following day, bringing with +us the cattle and our wounded. Thus encumbered it was a most toilsome march, +and an anxious one also, for it was always possible that the remnant of the +Amakoba might attempt pursuit. This, however, they did not do, for very many of +them were dead or wounded, and those who remained had no heart left in them. +They went back to their mountain home and lived there in shame and +wretchedness, for I do not believe there were fifty head of cattle left among +the tribe, and Kafirs without cattle are nothing. Still, they did not starve, +since there were plenty of women to work the fields, and we had not touched +their corn. The end of them was that Panda gave them to their conqueror, +Saduko, and he incorporated them with the Amangwane. But that did not happen +until some time afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +When we had rested a while at the wagons the captured beasts were mustered, and +on being counted were found to number a little over twelve hundred head, not +reckoning animals that had been badly hurt in the flight, which we killed for +beef. It was a noble prize, truly, and, notwithstanding the wound in his thigh, +which hurt him a good deal now that it had stiffened, Saduko stood up and +surveyed them with glistening eyes. No wonder, for he who had been so poor was +now rich, and would remain so even after he had paid over whatever number of +cows Umbezi chose to demand as the price of Mameena’s hand. Moreover, he +was sure, and I shared his confidence, that in these changed circumstances both +that young woman and her father would look upon his suit with very favourable +eyes. He had, so to speak, succeeded to the title and the family estates by +means of a lawsuit brought in the “Court of the Assegai,” and +therefore there was hardly a father in Zululand who would shut his kraal gate +upon him. We forgot, both of us, the proverb that points out how numerous are +the slips between the cup and the lip, which, by the way, is one that has its +Zulu equivalents. One of them, if I remember right at the moment, is: +“However loud the hen cackles, the housewife does not always get the +egg.” +</p> + +<p> +As it chanced, although Saduko’s hen was cackling very loudly just at +this time, he was not destined to find the coveted egg. But of that matter I +will speak in its place. +</p> + +<p> +I, too, looked at those cattle, wondering whether Saduko would remember our +bargain, under which some six hundred head of them belonged to me. Six hundred +head! Why, putting them at £5 apiece all round—and as oxen were very +scarce just at that time, they were worth quite as much, if not more—that +meant £3,000, a larger sum of money than I had ever owned at one time in all my +life. Truly the paths of violence were profitable! But would he remember? On +the whole I thought probably not, since Kafirs are not fond of parting with +cattle. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I did him an injustice, for presently he turned and said, with something +of an effort: +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn, half of all these belong to you, and truly you have earned +them, for it was your cunning and good counsel that gained us the victory. Now +we will choose them beast by beast.” +</p> + +<p> +So I chose a fine ox, then Saduko chose one; and so it went on till I had eight +of my number driven out. As the eighth was taken I turned to Saduko and said: +</p> + +<p> +“There, that will do. These oxen I must have to replace those in my teams +which died on the trek, but I want no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wow!</i>” said Saduko, and all those who stood with him, while +one of them added—I think it was old Tshoza: +</p> + +<p> +“He refuses six hundred cattle which are fairly his! He must be +mad!” +</p> + +<p> +“No friends,” I answered, “I am not mad, but neither am I +bad. I accompanied Saduko on this raid because he is dear to me and stood by me +once in the hour of danger. But I do not love killing men with whom I have no +quarrel, and I will not take the price of blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wow!</i>” said old Tshoza again, for Saduko seemed too +astonished to speak, “he is a spirit, not a man. He is +<i>holy!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a bit of it,” I answered. “If you think that, ask +Mameena”—a dark saying which they did not understand. “Now, +listen. I will not take those cattle because I do not think as you Kafirs +think. But as they are mine, according to your law, I am going to dispose of +them. I give ten head to each of my hunters, and fifteen head to the relations +of him who was killed. The rest I give to Tshoza and to the other men of the +Amangwane who fought with us, to be divided among them in such proportions as +they may agree, I being the judge in the event of any quarrel arising.” +</p> + +<p> +Now these men raised a great cry of “<i>Inkoosi!</i>” and, running +up, old Tshoza seized my hand and kissed it. +</p> + +<p> +“Your heart is big,” he cried; “you drop fatness! Although +you are so small, the spirit of a king lives in you, and the wisdom of the +heavens.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he praised me, while all the others joined in, till the din was awful. +Saduko thanked me also in his magnificent manner. Yet I do not think that he +was altogether pleased, although my great gift relieved him from the necessity +of sharing up the spoil with his companions. The truth was, or so I believe, +that he understood that henceforth the Amangwane would love me better than they +loved him. This, indeed, proved to be the case, for I am sure that there was no +man among all those wild fellows who would not have served me to the death, and +to this day my name is a power among them and their descendants. Also it has +grown into something of a proverb among all those Kafirs who know the story. +They talk of any great act of liberality in an idiom as “a gift of +Macumazana,” and in the same way of one who makes any remarkable +renunciation, as “a wearer of Macumazana’s blanket,” or as +“he who has stolen Macumazana’s shadow.” +</p> + +<p> +Thus did I earn a great reputation very cheaply, for really I could not have +taken those cattle; also I am sure that had I done so they would have brought +me bad luck. Indeed, one of the regrets of my life is that I had anything +whatsoever to do with the business. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Our journey back to Umbezi’s kraal—for thither we were +heading—was very slow, hampered as we were with wounded and by a vast +herd of cattle. Of the latter, indeed, we got rid after a while, for, except +those which I had given to my men, and a hundred or so of the best beasts that +Saduko took with him for a certain purpose, they were sent away to a place +which he had chosen, in charge of about half of his people, under the command +of his uncle, Tshoza, there to await his coming. +</p> + +<p> +Over a month had gone by since the night of the ambush when at last we +outspanned quite close to Umbezi’s, in that bush where first I had met +the Amangwane free-spears. A very different set of men they looked on this +triumphant day to those fierce fellows who had slipped out of the trees at the +call of their chief. As we went through the country Saduko had bought fine +moochas and blankets for them; also head-dresses had been made with the long +black feathers of the <i>sakabuli</i> finch, and shields and leglets of the +hides and tails of oxen. Moreover, having fed plentifully and travelled easily, +they were fat and well-favoured, as, given good food, natives soon become after +a period of abstinence. +</p> + +<p> +The plan of Saduko was to lie quiet in the bush that night, and on the +following morning to advance in all his grandeur, accompanied by his spears, +present the hundred head of cattle that had been demanded, and formally ask his +daughter’s hand from Umbezi. As the reader may have gathered already, +there was a certain histrionic vein in Saduko; also when he was in feather he +liked to show off his plumage. +</p> + +<p> +Well, this plan was carried out to the letter. On the following morning, after +the sun was well up, Saduko, as a great chief does, sent forward two bedizened +heralds to announce his approach to Umbezi, after whom followed two other men +to sing his deeds and praises. (By the way, I observed that they had clearly +been instructed to avoid any mention of a person called Macumazahn.) Then we +advanced in force. First went Saduko, splendidly apparelled as a chief, +carrying a small assegai and adorned with plumes, leglets and a leopard-skin +kilt. He was attended by about half a dozen of the best-looking of his +followers, who posed as <i>indunas</i> or councillors. Behind these I walked, a +dusty, insignificant little fellow, attended by the ugly, snub-nosed Scowl in a +very greasy pair of trousers, worn-out European boots through which his toes +peeped, and nothing else, and by my three surviving hunters, whose appearance +was even more disreputable. After us marched about four score of the +transformed Amangwane, and after them came the hundred picked cattle driven by +a few herdsmen. +</p> + +<p> +In due course we arrived at the gate of the kraal, where we found the heralds +and the praisers prancing and shouting. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you seen Umbezi?” asked Saduko of them. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” they answered; “he was asleep when we got here, but his +people say that he is coming out presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then tell his people that he had better be quick about it, or I shall +turn him out,” replied the proud Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +Just at this moment the kraal gate opened and through it appeared Umbezi, +looking extremely fat and foolish; also, it struck me, frightened, although +this he tried to conceal. +</p> + +<p> +“Who visits me here,” he said, “with so +much—um—ceremony?” and with the carved dancing-stick he +carried he pointed doubtfully at the lines of armed men. “Oh, it is you, +is it, Saduko?” and he looked him up and down, adding: “How grand +you are to be sure. Have you been robbing anybody? And you, too, Macumazahn. +Well, <i>you</i> do not look grand. You look like an old cow that has been +suckling two calves on the winter veld. But tell me, what are all these +warriors for? I ask because I have not food for so many, especially as we have +just had a feast here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fear nothing, Umbezi,” answered Saduko in his grandest manner. +“I have brought food for my own men. As for my business, it is simple. +You asked a hundred head of cattle as the <i>lobola</i> [that is, the marriage +gift] of your daughter, Mameena. They are there. Go send your servants to the +kraal and count them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, with pleasure,” Umbezi replied nervously, and he gave some +orders to certain men behind him. “I am glad to see that you have become +rich in this sudden fashion, Saduko, though how you have done so I cannot +understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind how I have become rich,” answered Saduko. “I +<i>am</i> rich; that is enough for the present. Be pleased to send for Mameena, +for I would talk with her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, Saduko, I understand that you would talk with Mameena; +but”—and he looked round him desperately—“I fear that +she is still asleep. As you know, Mameena was always a late riser, and, what is +more, she hates to be disturbed. Don’t you think that you could come +back, say, to-morrow morning? She will be sure to be up by then; or, better +still, the day after?” +</p> + +<p> +“In which hut is Mameena?” asked Saduko sternly, while I, smelling +a rat, began to chuckle to myself. +</p> + +<p> +“I really do not know, Saduko,” replied Umbezi. “Sometimes +she sleeps in one, sometimes in another, and sometimes she goes several +hours’ journey away to her aunt’s kraal for a change. I should not +be in the least surprised if she had done so last night. I have no control over +Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +Before Saduko could answer, a shrill, rasping voice broke upon our ears, which +after some search I saw proceeded from an ugly and ancient female seated in the +shadow, in whom I recognised the lady who was known by the pleasing name of +“Worn-out-Old-Cow.” +</p> + +<p> +“He lies!” screeched the voice. “He lies. Thanks be to the +spirit of my ancestors that wild cat Mameena has left this kraal for good. She +slept last night, not with her aunt, but with her husband, Masapo, to whom +Umbezi gave her in marriage two days ago, receiving in payment a hundred and +twenty head of cattle, which was twenty more than <i>you</i> bid, +Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +Now when Saduko heard these words I thought that he would really go mad with +rage. He turned quite grey under his dark skin and for a while trembled like a +leaf, looking as though he were about to fall to the ground. Then he leapt as a +lion leaps, and seizing Umbezi by the throat, hurled him backwards, standing +over him with raised spear. +</p> + +<p> +“You dog!” he cried in a terrible voice. “Tell me the truth +or I will rip you up. What have you done with Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Saduko,” answered Umbezi in choking tones, “Mameena has +chosen to get married. It was no fault of mine; she would have her way.” +</p> + +<p> +He got no farther, and had I not intervened by throwing my arms about Saduko +and dragging him back, that moment would have been Umbezi’s last, for +Saduko was about to pin him to the earth with his spear. As it proved, I was +just in time, and Saduko, being weak with emotion, for I felt his heart going +like a sledge-hammer, could not break from my grasp before his reason returned +to him. +</p> + +<p> +At length he recovered himself a little and threw down his spear as though to +put himself out of temptation. Then he spoke, always in the same terrible +voice, asking: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you more to say about this business, Umbezi? I would hear all +before I answer you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only this, Saduko,” replied Umbezi, who had risen to his feet and +was shaking like a reed. “I did no more than any other father would have +done. Masapo is a very powerful chief, one who will be a good stick for me to +lean on in my old age. Mameena declared that she wished to marry +him—” +</p> + +<p> +“He lies!” screeched the “Old Cow.” “What Mameena +said was that she had no will towards marriage with any Zulu in the land, so I +suppose she is looking after a white man,” and she leered in my +direction. “She said, however, that if her father wished to marry her to +Masapo, she must be a dutiful daughter and obey him, but that if blood and +trouble came of that marriage, let it be on his head and not on hers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you also stick your claws into me, cat?” shouted Umbezi, +catching the old woman a savage cut across the back with the light +dancing-stick which he still held in his hand, whereon she fled away screeching +and cursing him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Saduko,” he went on, “let not your ears be poisoned by +these falsehoods. Mameena never said anything of the sort, or if she did it was +not to me. Well, the moment that my daughter had consented to take Masapo as +her husband his people drove a hundred and twenty of the most beautiful cattle +over the hill, and would you have had me refuse them, Saduko? I am sure that +when you have seen them you will say that I was quite right to accept such a +splendid <i>lobola</i> in return for one sharp-tongued girl. Remember, Saduko, +that although you had promised a hundred head, that is less by twenty, at the +time you did not own one, and where you were to get them from I could not +guess. Moreover,” he added with a last, desperate, imaginative effort, +for I think he saw that his arguments were making no impression, “some +strangers who called here told me that both you and Macumazahn had been killed +by certain evil-doers in the mountains. There, I have spoken, and, Saduko, if +you now have cattle, why, on my part, I have another daughter, not quite so +good-looking perhaps, but a much better worker in the field. Come and drink a +sup of beer, and I will send for her.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop talking about your other daughter and your beer and listen to +me,” replied Saduko, looking at the assegai which he had thrown to the +ground so ominously that I set my foot on it. “I am now a greater chief +than the boar Masapo. Has Masapo such a bodyguard as these +Eaters-up-of-Enemies?” and he jerked his thumb backwards towards the +serried lines of fierce-faced Amangwane who stood listening behind us. +“Has Masapo as many cattle as I have, whereof those which you see are but +a tithe brought as a <i>lobola</i> gift to the father of her who had been +promised to me as wife? Is Masapo Panda’s friend? I think that I have +heard otherwise. Has Masapo just conquered a countless tribe by his courage and +his wit? Is Masapo young and of high blood, or is he but an old, low-born boar +of the mountains? +</p> + +<p> +“You do not answer, Umbezi, and perhaps you do well to be silent. Now +listen again. Were it not for Macumazahn here, whom I do not desire to mix up +with my quarrels, I would bid my men take you and beat you to death with the +handles of their spears, and then go on and serve the Boar in the same fashion +in his mountain sty. As it is, these things must wait a little while, +especially as I have other matters to attend to first. Yet the day is not far +off when I will attend to them also. Therefore my counsel to you, Cheat, is to +make haste to die or to find courage to fall upon a spear, unless you would +learn how it feels to be brayed with sticks like a green hide until none can +know that you were once a man. Send now and tell my words to Masapo the Boar. +And to Mameena say that soon I will come to take her with spears and not with +cattle. Do you understand? Oh! I see that you do, since already you weep with +fear like a woman. Then farewell to you till that day when I return with the +sticks, O Umbezi the cheat and the liar, Umbezi, +‘Eater-up-of-Elephants,’” and turning, Saduko stalked away. +</p> + +<p> +I was about to follow in a great hurry, having had enough of this very +unpleasant scene, when poor old Umbezi sprang at me and clasped me by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” he exclaimed, weeping in his terror, “O +Macumazana, if ever I have been a friend to you, help me out of this deep pit +into which I have fallen through the tricks of that monkey of a daughter of +mine, who I think is a witch born to bring trouble upon men. Macumazahn, if she +had been your daughter and a powerful chief had appeared with a hundred and +twenty head of such beautiful cattle, you would have given her to him, would +you not, although he is of mixed blood and not very young, especially as she +did not mind who only cares for place and wealth?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not,” I answered; “but then it is not our custom to +sell women in that fashion.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, I forgot; in this as in other matters you white men are mad and, +Macumazahn, to tell you the truth, I believe it is you she really cares for; +she said as much to me once or twice. Well, why did you not take her away when +I was not looking? We could have settled matters afterwards, and I should have +been free of her witcheries and not up to my neck in this hole as I am +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because some people don’t do that kind of thing, Umbezi.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, I forgot. Oh! why can I not remember that you are <i>quite</i> +mad and therefore that it must not be expected of you to act as though you were +sane. Well, at least you are that tiger Saduko’s friend, which again +shows that you must be very mad, for most people would sooner try to milk a cow +buffalo than walk hand in hand with him. Don’t you see, Macumazahn, that +he means to kill me, Macumazahn, to bray me like a green hide? Ugh! to beat me +to death with sticks. Ugh! And what is more, that unless you prevent him, he +will certainly do it, perhaps to-morrow or the next day. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I see, Umbezi, and I think that he <i>will</i> do it. But what I do +not see is how I am to prevent him. Remember that you let Mameena grow into his +heart and behaved badly to him, Umbezi.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never promised her to him, Macumazahn. I only said that if he brought +a hundred cattle, then I might promise.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he has wiped out the Amakoba, the enemies of his House, and there +are the hundred cattle whereof he has many more, and now it is too late for you +to keep your share of the bargain. So I think you must make yourself as +comfortable as you can in the hole that your hands dug, Umbezi, which I would +not share for all the cattle in Zululand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Truly you are not one from whom to seek comfort in the hour of +distress,” groaned poor Umbezi, then added, brightening up: “But +perhaps Panda will kill him because he has wiped out Bangu in a time of peace. +Oh Macumazahn, can you not persuade Panda to kill him? If so, I now have more +cattle than I really want—” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible,” I answered. “Panda is his friend, and between +ourselves I may tell you that he ate up the Amakoba by his especial wish. When +the King hears of it he will call to Saduko to sit in his shadow and make him +great, one of his councillors, probably with power of life and death over +little people like you and Masapo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is finished,” said Umbezi faintly, “and I will try +to die like a man. But to be brayed like a hide! And with thin sticks! +Oh!” he added, grinding his teeth, “if only I can get hold of +Mameena I will not leave much of that pretty hair of hers upon her head. I will +tie her hands and shut her up with the ‘Old Cow,’ who loves her as +a meer-cat loves a mouse. No; I will kill her. There—do you hear, +Macumazahn, unless you do something to help me, I will kill Mameena, and you +won’t like that, for I am sure she is dear to you, although you were not +man enough to run away with her as she wished.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you touch Mameena,” I said, “be certain, my friend, that +Saduko’s sticks and your skin will not be far apart, for I will report +you to Panda myself as an unnatural evil-doer. Now hearken to me, you old fool. +Saduko is so fond of your daughter, on this point being mad, as you say I am, +that if only he could get her I think he might overlook the fact of her having +been married before. What you have to do is to try to buy her back from Masapo. +Mind you, I say buy her back—not get her by bloodshed—which you +might do by persuading Masapo to put her away. Then, if he knew that you were +trying to do this, I think that Saduko might leave his sticks uncut for a +while.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will try. I will indeed, Macumazahn. I will try very hard. It is true +Masapo is an obstinate pig; still, if he knows that his own life is at stake, +he might give way. Moreover, when she learns that Saduko has grown rich and +great, Mameena might help me. Oh, I thank you, Macumazahn; you are indeed the +prop of my hut, and it and all in it are yours. Farewell, farewell, Macumazahn, +if you must go. But why—why did you not run away with Mameena, and save +me all this fear and trouble?” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +So I and that old humbug, Umbezi, “Eater-up-of-Elephants,” parted +for a while, and never did I know him in a more chastened frame of mind, except +once, as I shall tell. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>Chapter VIII.<br /> +THE KING’S DAUGHTER</h2> + +<p> +When I got back to my wagons after this semi-tragical interview with that +bombastic and self-seeking old windbag, Umbezi, it was to find that Saduko and +his warriors had already marched for the King’s kraal, Nodwengu. A +message awaited me, however, to the effect that it was hoped that I would +follow, in order to make report of the affair of the destruction of the +Amakoba. This, after reflection, I determined to do, really, I think, because +of the intense human interest of the whole business. I wanted to see how it +would work out. +</p> + +<p> +Also, in a way, I read Saduko’s mind and understood that at the moment he +did not wish to discuss the matter of his hideous disappointment. Whatever else +may have been false in this man’s nature, one thing rang true, namely, +his love or his infatuation for the girl Mameena. Throughout his life she was +his guiding star—about as evil a star as could have arisen upon any +man’s horizon; the fatal star that was to light him down to doom. Let me +thank Providence, as I do, that I was so fortunate as to escape its baneful +influences, although I admit that they attracted me not a little. +</p> + +<p> +So, seduced thither by my curiosity, which has so often led me into trouble, I +trekked to Nodwengu, full of many doubts not unmingled with amusement, for I +could not rid my mind of recollections of the utter terror of the +“Eater-up-of-Elephants” when he was brought face to face with the +dreadful and concentrated rage of the robbed Saduko and the promise of his +vengeance. Ultimately I arrived at the Great Place without experiencing any +adventure that is worthy of record, and camped in a spot that was appointed to +me by some <i>induna</i> whose name I forget, but who evidently knew of my +approach, for I found him awaiting me at some distance from the town. Here I +sat for quite a long while, two or three days, if I remember right, amusing +myself with killing or missing turtle-doves with a shotgun, and similar +pastimes, until something should happen, or I grew tired and started for Natal. +</p> + +<p> +In the end, just as I was about to trek seawards, an old friend, Maputa, turned +up at my wagons—that same man who had brought me the message from Panda +before we started to attack Bangu. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Macumazahn,” he said. “What of the Amakoba? I see +they did not kill you.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” I answered, handing him some snuff, “they did not quite +kill me, for here I am. What is your pleasure with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana, only that the King wishes to know whether you have any of +those little balls left in the box which I brought back to you, since, if so, +he thinks he would like to swallow one of them in this hot weather.” +</p> + +<p> +I proffered him the whole box, but he would not take it, saying that the King +would like me to give it to him myself. Now I understood that this was a +summons to an audience, and asked when it would please Panda to receive me and +“the-little-black-stones-that-work-wonders.” He answered—at +once. +</p> + +<p> +So we started, and within an hour I stood, or rather sat, before Panda. +</p> + +<p> +Like all his family, the King was an enormous man, but, unlike Chaka and those +of his brothers whom I had known, one of a kindly countenance. I saluted him by +lifting my cap, and took my place upon a wooden stool that had been provided +for me outside the great hut, in the shadow of which he sat within his +<i>isi-gohlo</i>, or private enclosure. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, O Macumazana,” he said. “I am glad to see you safe +and well, for I understand that you have been engaged upon a perilous adventure +since last we met.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, King,” I answered; “but to which adventure do you +refer—that of the buffalo, when Saduko helped me, or that of the Amakoba, +when I helped Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“The latter, Macumazahn, of which I desire to hear all the story.” +</p> + +<p> +So I told it to him, he and I being alone, for he commanded his councillors and +servants to retire out of hearing. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wow!</i>” he said, when I had finished, “you are clever +as a baboon, Macumazahn. That was a fine trick to set a trap for Bangu and his +Amakoba dogs and bait it with his own cattle. But they tell me that you refused +your share of those cattle. Now, why was that, Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +By way of answer I repeated to Panda my reasons, which I have set out already. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” he exclaimed, when I had finished. “Every one seeks +greatness in his own way, and perhaps yours is better than ours. Well, the +White man walks one road—or some of them do—and the Black man +another. They both end at the same place, and none will know which is the right +road till the journey is done. Meanwhile, what you lose Saduko and his people +gain. He is a wise man, Saduko, who knows how to choose his friends, and his +wisdom has brought him victory and gifts. But to you, Macumazahn, it has +brought nothing but honour, on which, if a man feeds only, he will grow +thin.” +</p> + +<p> +“I like to be thin, O Panda,” I answered slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I understand,” replied the King, who, in common with +most natives, was quick enough to seize a point, “and I, too, like people +who keep thin on such food as yours, people, also, whose hands are always +clean. We Zulus trust you, Macumazahn, as we trust few white men, for we have +known for years that your lips say what your heart thinks, and that your heart +always thinks the thing which is good. You may be named Watcher-by-Night, but +you love light, not darkness.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, at these somewhat unusual compliments I bowed, and felt myself colouring a +little as I did so, even through my sunburn, but I made no answer to them, +since to do so would have involved a discussion of the past and its tragical +events, into which I had no wish to enter. Panda, too, remained silent for a +while. Then he called to a messenger to summon the princes, Cetewayo and +Umbelazi, and to bid Saduko, the son of Matiwane, to wait without, in case he +should wish to speak with him. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later the two princes arrived. I watched their coming with +interest, for they were the most important men in Zululand, and already the +nation debated fiercely which of them would succeed to the throne. I will try +to describe them a little. +</p> + +<p> +They were both of much the same age—it is always difficult to arrive at a +Zulu’s exact years—and both fine young men. Cetewayo, however, had +the stronger countenance. It was said that he resembled that fierce and able +monster, Chaka the Wild Beast, his uncle, and certainly I perceived in him a +likeness to his other uncle, Dingaan, Umpanda’s predecessor, whom I had +known but too well when I was a lad. He had the same surly eyes and haughty +bearing; also, when he was angry his mouth shut itself in the same iron +fashion. +</p> + +<p> +Of Umbelazi it is difficult for me to speak without enthusiasm. As Mameena was +the most beautiful woman I ever saw in Zululand—although it is true that +old war-dog, Umslopogaas, a friend of mine who does not come into this story, +used to tell me that Nada the Lily, whom I have mentioned, was even +lovelier—so Umbelazi was by far the most splendid man. Indeed, the Zulus +named him “Umbelazi the Handsome,” and no wonder. To begin with, he +stood at least three inches above the tallest of them; from a quarter of a mile +away I have recognised him by his great height, even through the dust of a +desperate battle, and his breadth was proportionate to his stature. Then he was +perfectly made, his great, shapely limbs ending, like Saduko’s, in small +hands and feet. His face, too, was well-cut and open, his colour lighter than +Cetewayo’s, and his eyes, which always seemed to smile, were large and +dark. +</p> + +<p> +Even before they passed the small gate of the inner fence it was easy for me to +see that this royal pair were not upon the best of terms, for each of them +tried to get through it first, to show his right of precedence. The result was +somewhat ludicrous, for they jammed in the gateway. Here, however, +Umbelazi’s greater weight told, for, putting out his strength, he +squeezed his brother into the reeds of the fence, and won through a foot or so +in front of him. +</p> + +<p> +“You grow too fat, my brother,” I heard Cetewayo say, and saw him +scowl as he spoke. “If I had held an assegai in my hand you would have +been cut.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it, my brother,” answered Umbelazi, with a good-humoured +laugh, “but I knew also that none may appear before the King armed. Had +it been otherwise, I would rather have followed after you.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, at this hint of Umbelazi’s, that he would not trust his brother +behind his back with a spear, although it seemed to be conveyed in jest, I saw +Panda shift uneasily on his seat, while Cetewayo scowled even more ominously +than before. However, no further words passed between them, and, walking up to +the King side by side, they saluted him with raised hands, calling out +“<i>Baba!</i>”—that is, Father. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, my children,” said Panda, adding hastily, for he foresaw +a quarrel as to which of them should take the seat of honour on his right: +“Sit there in front of me, both of you, and, Macumazahn, do you come +hither,” and he pointed to the coveted place. “I am a little deaf +in my left ear this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +So these brothers sat themselves down in front of the King; nor were they, I +think, grieved to find this way out of their rivalry; but first they shook +hands with me, for I knew them both, though not well, and even in this small +matter the old trouble arose, since there was some difficulty as to which of +them should first offer me his hand. Ultimately, I remember, Cetewayo won this +trick. +</p> + +<p> +When these preliminaries were finished, Panda addressed the princes, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“My sons, I have sent for you to ask your counsel upon a certain +matter—not a large matter, but one that may grow.” And he paused to +take snuff, whereon both of them ejaculated: +</p> + +<p> +“We hear you, Father.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my sons, the matter is that of Saduko, the son of Matiwane, chief +of the Amangwane, whom Bangu, chief of the Amakoba, ate up years ago by leave +of Him who went before me. Now, this Bangu, as you know, has for some time been +a thorn in my foot—a thorn that caused it to fester—and yet I did +not wish to make war on him. So I spoke a word in the ear of Saduko, saying, +‘He is yours, if you can kill him; and his cattle are yours.’ Well, +Saduko is not dull. With the help of this white man, Macumazahn, our friend +from of old, he has killed Bangu and taken his cattle, and already my foot is +beginning to heal.” +</p> + +<p> +“We have heard it,” said Cetewayo. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a great deed,” added Umbelazi, a more generous critic. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” continued Panda, “I, too, think it was a great deed, +seeing that Saduko had but a small regiment of wanderers to back +him—” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” interrupted Cetewayo, “it was not those eaters of rats +who won him the day, it was the wisdom of this Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn’s wisdom would have been of little use without the +courage of Saduko and his rats,” commented Umbelazi, and from this moment +I saw that the two brothers were taking sides for and against Saduko, as they +did upon every other matter, not because they cared for the right of whatever +was in question, but because they wished to oppose each other. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” went on the King; “I agree with both of you, my +sons. But the point is this: I think Saduko a man of promise, and one who +should be advanced that he may learn to love us all, especially as his House +has suffered wrong from our House, since He-who-is-gone listened to the evil +counsel of Bangu, and allowed him to kill out Matiwane’s tribe without +just cause. Therefore, in order to wipe away this stain and bind Saduko to us, +I think it well to re-establish Saduko in the chieftainship of the Amangwane, +with the lands that his father held, and to give him also the chieftainship of +the Amakoba, of whom it seems that the women and children, with some of the +men, remain, although he already holds their cattle which he has captured in +war.” +</p> + +<p> +“As the King pleases,” said Umbelazi, with a yawn, for he was +growing weary of listening to the case of Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +But Cetewayo said nothing, for he appeared to be thinking of something else. +</p> + +<p> +“I think also,” went on Panda in a rather uncertain voice, +“in order to bind him so close that the bonds may never be broken, it +would be wise to give him a woman of our family in marriage.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should this little Amangwane be allowed to marry into the royal +House?” asked Cetewayo, looking up. “If he is dangerous, why not +kill him, and have done?” +</p> + +<p> +“For this reason, my son. There is trouble ahead in Zululand, and I do +not wish to kill those who may help us in that hour, nor do I wish them to +become our enemies. I wish that they may be our friends; and therefore it seems +to me wise, when we find a seed of greatness, to water it, and not to dig it up +or plant it in a neighbour’s garden. From his deeds I believe that this +Saduko is such a seed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Our father has spoken,” said Umbelazi; “and I like Saduko, +who is a man of mettle and good blood. Which of our sisters does our father +propose to give to him?” +</p> + +<p> +“She who is named after the mother of our race, O Umbelazi; she whom your +own mother bore—your sister Nandie” (in English, “The +Sweet”). +</p> + +<p> +“A great gift, O my Father, since Nandie is both fair and wise. Also, +what does she think of this matter?” +</p> + +<p> +“She thinks well of it, Umbelazi, for she has seen Saduko and taken a +liking to him. She told me herself that she wishes no other husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so?” replied Umbelazi indifferently. “Then if the King +commands, and the King’s daughter desires, what more is there to be +said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Much, I think,” broke in Cetewayo. “I hold that it is out of +place that this little man, who has but conquered a little tribe by borrowing +the wit of Macumazahn here, should be rewarded not only with a chieftainship, +but with the hand of the wisest and most beautiful of the King’s +daughters, even though Umbelazi,” he added, with a sneer, “should +be willing to throw him his own sister like a bone to a passing dog.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who threw the bone, Cetewayo?” asked Umbelazi, awaking out of his +indifference. “Was it the King, or was it I, who never heard of the +matter till this moment? And who are we that we should question the +King’s decrees? Is it our business to judge or to obey?” +</p> + +<p> +“Has Saduko perchance made you a present of some of those cattle which he +stole from the Amakoba, Umbelazi?” asked Cetewayo. “As our father +asks no <i>lobola</i>, perhaps you have taken the gift instead.” +</p> + +<p> +“The only gift that I have taken from Saduko,” said Umbelazi, who, +I could see, was hard pressed to keep his temper, “is that of his +service. He is my friend, which is why you hate him, as you hate all my +friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Must I then love every stray cur that licks your hand, Umbelazi? Oh, no +need to tell me he is your friend, for I know it was you who put it into our +father’s heart to allow him to kill Bangu and steal his cattle, which I +hold to be an ill deed, for now the Great House is thatched with his reeds and +Bangu’s blood is on its doorposts. Moreover, he who wrought the wrong is +to come and dwell therein, and for aught I know to be called a prince, like you +and me. Why should he not, since the Princess Nandie is to be given to him in +marriage? Certainly, Umbelazi, you would do well to take the cattle which this +white trader has refused, for all men know that you have earned them.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Umbelazi sprang up, straightening himself to the full of his great height, +and spoke in a voice that was thick with passion. +</p> + +<p> +“I pray your leave to withdraw, O King,” he said, “since if I +stay here longer I shall grow sorry that I have no spear in my hand. Yet before +I go I will tell the truth. Cetewayo hates Saduko, because, knowing him to be a +chief of wit and courage, who will grow great, he sought him for his man, +saying, ‘Sit you in my shadow,’ after he had promised to sit in +mine. Therefore it is that he heaps these taunts upon me. Let him deny it if he +can.” +</p> + +<p> +“That I shall not trouble to do, Umbelazi,” answered Cetewayo, with +a scowl. “Who are you that spy upon my doings, and with a mouth full of +lies call me to account before the King? I will hear no more of it. Do you bide +here and pay Saduko his price with the person of our sister. For, as the King +has promised her, his word cannot be changed. Only let your dog know that I +keep a stick for him, if he should snarl at me. Farewell, my Father. I go upon +a journey to my own lordship, the land of Gikazi, and there you will find me +when you want me, which I pray may not be till after this marriage is finished, +for on that I will not trust my eyes to look.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, with a salute, he turned and departed, bidding no good-bye to his +brother. +</p> + +<p> +My hand, however, he shook in farewell, for Cetewayo was always friendly to me, +perhaps because he thought I might be useful to him. Also, as I learned +afterwards, he was very pleased with me for the reason that I had refused my +share of the Amakoba cattle, and that he knew I had no part in this proposed +marriage between Saduko and Nandie, of which, indeed, I now heard for the first +time. +</p> + +<p> +“My Father,” said Umbelazi, when Cetewayo had gone, “is this +to be borne? Am I to blame in the matter? You have heard and seen—answer +me, my Father.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you are not to blame this time, Umbelazi,” replied the King, +with a heavy sigh. “But oh! my sons, my sons, where will your quarrelling +end? I think that only a river of blood can quench so fierce a fire, and then +which of you will live to reach its bank?” +</p> + +<p> +For a while he looked at Umbelazi, and I saw love and fear in his eye, for +towards him Panda always had more affection than for any of his other children. +</p> + +<p> +“Cetewayo has behaved ill,” he said at length; “and before a +white man, who will report the matter, which makes it worse. He has no right to +dictate to me to whom I shall or shall not give my daughters in marriage. +Moreover, I have spoken; nor do I change my word because he threatens me. It is +known throughout the land that I never change my word; and the white men know +it also, do they not, O Macumazana?” +</p> + +<p> +I answered yes, they did. Also, this was true, for, like most weak men, Panda +was very obstinate, and honest, too, in his own fashion. +</p> + +<p> +He waved his hand, to show that the subject was ended, then bade Umbelazi go to +the gate and send a messenger to bring in “the son of Matiwane.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently Saduko arrived, looking very stately and composed as he lifted his +right hand and gave Panda the <i>Bayéte</i>—the royal salute. +</p> + +<p> +“Be seated,” said the King. “I have words for your +ear.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereon, with the most perfect grace, without hurrying and without undue delay, +Saduko crouched himself down upon his knees, with one of his elbows resting on +the ground, as only a native knows how to do without looking absurd, and +waited. +</p> + +<p> +“Son of Matiwane,” said the King, “I have heard all the story +of how, with a small company, you destroyed Bangu and most of the men of the +Amakoba, and ate up their cattle every one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, Black One,” interrupted Saduko. “I am but a +boy, I did nothing. It was Macumazahn, Watcher-by-Night, who sits yonder. His +wisdom taught me how to snare the Amakoba, after they were decoyed from their +mountain, and it was Tshoza, my uncle, who loosed the cattle from the kraals. I +say that I did nothing, except to strike a blow or two with a spear when I +must, just as a baboon throws stones at those who would steal its young.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am glad to see that you are no boaster, Saduko,” said Panda. +“Would that more of the Zulus were like you in that matter, for then I +must not listen to so many loud songs about little things. At least, Bangu was +killed and his proud tribe humbled, and, for reasons of state, I am glad that +this happened without my moving a regiment or being mixed up with the business, +for I tell you that there are some of my family who loved Bangu. But I—I +loved your father, Matiwane, whom Bangu butchered, for we were brought up +together as boys—yes, and served together in the same regiment, the +Amawombe, when the Wild One, my brother, ruled” (he meant Chaka, for +among the Zulus the names of dead kings are <i>hlonipa</i>—that is, they +must not be spoken if it can be avoided). “Therefore,” went on +Panda, “for this reason, and for others, I am glad that Bangu has been +punished, and that, although vengeance has crawled after him like a footsore +bull, at length he has been tossed with its horns and crushed with its +knees.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Yebo, Ngonyama!</i>” (Yes, O Lion!) said Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Saduko,” went on Panda, “because you are your +father’s son, and because you have shown yourself a man, although you are +still little in the land, I am minded to advance you. Therefore I give to you +the chieftainship over those who remain of the Amakoba and over all of the +Amangwane blood whom you can gather.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Bayéte!</i> As the King pleases,” said Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“And I give you leave to become a <i>kehla</i>—a wearer of the +head-ring—although, as you have said, you are still but a boy, and with +it a place upon my Council.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Bayéte!</i> As the King pleases,” said Saduko, still apparently +unmoved by the honours that were being heaped upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“And, Son of Matiwane,” went on Panda, “you are still +unmarried, are you not?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, for the first time, Saduko’s face changed. “Yes, Black +One,” he said hurriedly, “but—” +</p> + +<p> +Here he caught my eye, and, reading some warning in it, was silent. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” repeated Panda after him, “doubtless you would like to +be? Well, it is natural in a young man who wishes to found a House, and +therefore I give you leave to marry.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Yebo, Silo!</i>” (Yes, O Wild Beast!) “I thank the King, +but—” +</p> + +<p> +Here I sneezed loudly, and he ceased. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” repeated Panda, “of course, you do not know where to +find a wife between the time the hawk stoops and the rat squeaks in its claws. +How should you who have never thought of the matter? Also,” he continued, +with a smile, “it is well that you have not thought of it, since she whom +I shall give to you could not live in the second hut in your kraal and call +another <i>Inkosikazi</i> [that is, head lady or chieftainess]. Umbelazi, my +son, go fetch her of whom we have thought as a bride for this boy.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Umbelazi rose, and went with a broad smile upon his face, while Panda, +somewhat fatigued with all his speech-making—for he was very fat and the +day was very hot—leaned his head back against the hut and closed his +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“O Black One! O thou who consumeth with rage! +[<i>Dhlangamandhla</i>]” broke out Saduko, who, I could see, was much +disturbed. “I have something to say to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt, no doubt,” answered Panda drowsily, “but save up +your thanks till you have seen, or you will have none left afterwards,” +and he snored slightly. +</p> + +<p> +Now I, perceiving that Saduko was about to ruin himself, thought it well to +interfere, though what business of mine it was to do so I cannot say. At any +rate, if only I had held my tongue at this moment, and allowed Saduko to make a +fool of himself, as he wished to do—for where Mameena was concerned he +never could be wise—I verily believe that all the history of Zululand +would have run a different course, and that many thousands of men, white and +black, who are now dead would be alive to-day. But Fate ordered it otherwise. +Yes, it was not I who spoke, but Fate. The Angel of Doom used my throat as his +trumpet. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing that Panda dozed, I slipped behind Saduko and gripped him by the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you mad?” I whispered into his ear. “Will you throw away +your fortune, and your life also?” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mameena,” he whispered back. “I would marry none save +Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fool!” I answered. “Mameena has betrayed and spat upon you. +Take what the Heavens send you and give thanks. Would you wear Masapo’s +soiled blanket?” +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn,” he said in a hollow voice, “I will follow your +head, and not my own heart. Yet you sow a strange seed, Macumazahn, or so you +may think when you see its fruit.” And he gave me a wild look—a +look that frightened me. +</p> + +<p> +There was something in this look which caused me to reflect that I might do +well to go away and leave Saduko, Mameena, Nandie, and the rest of them to +“dree their weirds,” as the Scotch say, for, after all, what was my +finger doing in that very hot stew? Getting burnt, I thought, and not +collecting any stew. +</p> + +<p> +Yet, looking back on these events, how could I foresee what would be the end of +the madness of Saduko, of the fearful machinations of Mameena, and of the +weakness of Umbelazi when she snared him in the net of her beauty, thus +bringing about his ruin, through the hate of Saduko and the ambition of +Cetewayo? How could I know that, at the back of all these events, stood the old +dwarf, Zikali the Wise, working night and day to slake the enmity and fulfil +the vengeance which long ago he had conceived and planned against the royal +House of Senzangakona and the Zulu people over whom it ruled? +</p> + +<p> +Yes, he stood there like a man behind a great stone upon the brow of a +mountain, slowly, remorselessly, with infinite skill, labour, and patience, +pushing that stone to the edge of the cliff, whence at length, in the appointed +hour, it would thunder down upon those who dwelt beneath, to leave them crushed +and no more a people. How could I guess that we, the actors in this play, were +all the while helping him to push that stone, and that he cared nothing how +many of us were carried with it into the abyss, if only we brought about the +triumph of his secret, unutterable rage and hate? +</p> + +<p> +Now I see and understand all these things, as it is easy to do, but then I was +blind; nor did the Voices reach my dull ears to warn me, as, how or why I +cannot tell, they did, I believe, reach those of Zikali. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, what was the sum of it? Just this, I think, and nothing more—that, as +Saduko and the others were Mameena’s tools, and as all of them and their +passions were Zikali’s tools, so he himself was the tool of some unseen +Power that used him and us to accomplish its design. Which, I suppose, is +fatalism, or, in other words, all these things happened because they must +happen. A poor conclusion to reach after so much thought and striving, and not +complimentary to man and his boasted powers of free will; still, one to which +many of us are often driven, especially if we have lived among savages, where +such dramas work themselves out openly and swiftly, unhidden from our eyes by +the veils and subterfuges of civilisation. At least, there is this comfort +about it—that, if we are but feathers blown by the wind, how can the +individual feather be blamed because it did not travel against, turn or keep +back the wind? +</p> + +<p> +Well, let me return from these speculations to the history of the facts that +caused them. +</p> + +<p> +Just as—a little too late—I had made up my mind that I would go +after my own business, and leave Saduko to manage his, through the fence +gateway appeared the great, tall Umbelazi leading by the hand a woman. As I saw +in a moment, it did not need certain bangles of copper, ornaments of ivory and +of very rare pink beads, called <i>imfibinga</i>, which only those of the royal +House were permitted to wear, to proclaim her a person of rank, for dignity and +high blood were apparent in her face, her carriage, her gestures, and all that +had to do with her. +</p> + +<p> +Nandie the Sweet was not a great beauty, as was Mameena, although her figure +was fine, and her stature like that of all the race of +Senzangakona—considerably above the average. To begin with, she was +darker in hue, and her lips were rather thick, as was her nose; nor were her +eyes large and liquid like those of an antelope. Further, she lacked the +informing mystery of Mameena’s face, that at times was broken and lit up +by flashes of alluring light and quick, sympathetic perception, as a heavy +evening sky, that seems to join the dim earth to the dimmer heavens, is +illuminated by pulsings of fire, soft and many-hued, suggesting, but not +revealing, the strength and splendour that it veils. Nandie had none of these +attractions, which, after all, anywhere upon the earth belong only to a few +women in each generation. She was a simple, honest-natured, kindly, +affectionate young woman of high birth, no more; that is, as these qualities +are understood and expressed among her people. +</p> + +<p> +Umbelazi led her forward into the presence of the King, to whom she bowed +gracefully enough. Then, after casting a swift, sidelong glance at Saduko, +which I found it difficult to interpret, and another of inquiry at me, she +folded her hands upon her breast and stood silent, with bent head, waiting to +be addressed. +</p> + +<p> +The address was brief enough, for Panda was still sleepy. +</p> + +<p> +“My daughter,” he said, with a yawn, “there stands your +husband,” and he jerked his thumb towards Saduko. “He is a young +man and a brave, and unmarried; also one who should grow great in the shadow of +our House, especially as he is a friend of your brother, Umbelazi. I understand +also that you have seen him and like him. Unless you have anything to say +against it, for as, not being a common father, the King receives no +cattle—at least in this case—I am not prejudiced, but will listen +to your words,” and he chuckled in a drowsy fashion. “I propose +that the marriage should take place to-morrow. Now, my daughter, have you +anything to say? For if so, please say it at once, as I am tired. The eternal +wranglings between your brethren, Cetewayo and Umbelazi, have worn me +out.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Nandie looked about her in her open, honest fashion, her gaze resting first +on Saduko, then on Umbelazi, and lastly upon me. +</p> + +<p> +“My Father,” she said at length, in her soft, steady voice, +“tell me, I beseech you, who proposes this marriage? Is it the Chief +Saduko, is it the Prince Umbelazi, or is it the white lord whose true name I do +not know, but who is called Macumazahn, Watcher-by-Night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t remember which of them proposed it,” yawned Panda. +“Who can keep on talking about things from night till morning? At any +rate, I propose it, and I will make your husband a big man among our people. +Have you anything to say against it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing to say, my Father. I have met Saduko, and like him +well—for the rest, you are the judge. But,” she added slowly, +“does Saduko like me? When he speaks my name, does he feel it +here?” and she pointed to her throat. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sure I do not know what he feels in his throat,” Panda +replied testily, “but I feel that mine is dry. Well, as no one says +anything, the matter is settled. To-morrow Saduko shall give the +<i>umqoliso</i> [the Ox of the Girl], that makes marriage—if he has not +got one here I will lend it to him, and you can take the new, big hut that I +have built in the outer kraal to dwell in for the present. There will be a +dance, if you wish it; if not, I do not care, for I have no wish for ceremony +just now, who am too troubled with great matters. Now I am going to +sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +Then sinking from his stool on to his knees, Panda crawled through the doorway +of his great hut, which was close to him, and vanished. +</p> + +<p> +Umbelazi and I departed also through the gateway of the fence, leaving Saduko +and the Princess Nandie alone together, for there were no attendants present. +What happened between them I am sure I do not know, but I gather that, in one +way or another, Saduko made himself sufficiently agreeable to the princess to +persuade her to take him to husband. Perhaps, being already enamoured of him, +she was not difficult to persuade. At any rate, on the morrow, without any +great feasting or fuss, except the customary dance, the <i>umqoliso</i>, the +“Ox of the Girl,” was slaughtered, and Saduko became the husband of +a royal maiden of the House of Senzangakona. +</p> + +<p> +Certainly, as I remember reflecting, it was a remarkable rise in life for one +who, but a few months before, had been without possessions or a home. +</p> + +<p> +I may add that, after our brief talk in the King’s kraal, while Panda was +dozing, I had no further words with Saduko on this matter of his marriage, for +between its proposal and the event he avoided me, nor did I seek him out. On +the day of the marriage also, I trekked for Natal, and for a whole year heard +no more of Saduko, Nandie, and Mameena; although, to be frank, I must admit I +thought of the last of these persons more often, perhaps, than I should have +done. +</p> + +<p> +The truth is that Mameena was one of those women who sticks in a man’s +mind even more closely than a “Wait-a-bit” thorn does in his coat. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>Chapter IX.<br /> +ALLAN RETURNS TO ZULULAND</h2> + +<p> +A whole year had gone by, in which I did, or tried to do, various things that +have no connection with this story, when once more I found myself in +Zululand—at Umbezi’s kraal indeed. Hither I had trekked in +fulfilment of a certain bargain, already alluded to, that was concerned with +ivory and guns, which I had made with the old fellow, or, rather, with Masapo, +his son-in-law, whom he represented in this matter. Into the exact +circumstances of that bargain I do not enter, since at the moment I cannot +recall whether I ever obtained the necessary permit to import those guns into +Zululand, although now that I am older I earnestly hope that I did so, since it +is wrong to sell weapons to natives that may be put to all sorts of unforeseen +uses. +</p> + +<p> +At any rate, there I was, sitting alone with the Headman in his hut discussing +a dram of “squareface” that I had given to him, for the +“trade” was finished to our mutual satisfaction, and Scowl, my body +servant, with the hunters, had just carried off the ivory—a fine lot of +tusks—to my wagons. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Umbezi,” I said, “and how has it fared with you since +we parted a year ago? Have you seen anything of Saduko, who, you may remember, +left you in some wrath?” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks be to my Spirit, I have seen nothing of that wild man, +Macumazahn,” answered Umbezi, shaking his fat old head in a fashion which +showed great anxiety. “Yet I have heard of him, for he sent me a message +the other day to tell me that he had not forgotten what he owed me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he mean the sticks with which he promised to bray you like a green +hide?” I inquired innocently. +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, Macumazahn—I think so, for certainly he owes me +nothing else. And the worst of it is that, there at Panda’s kraal, he has +grown like a pumpkin on a dung heap—great, great!” +</p> + +<p> +“And therefore is now one who can pay any debt that he owes, +Umbezi,” I said, taking a pull at the “squareface” and +looking at him over the top of the pannikin. +</p> + +<p> +“Doubtless he can, Macumazahn, and, between you and me, that is the real +reason why I—or rather Masapo—was so anxious to get those guns. +They were not for hunting, as he told you by the messenger, or for war, but to +protect us against Saduko, in case he should attack. Well, now I hope we shall +be able to hold our own.” +</p> + +<p> +“You and Masapo must teach your people to use them first, Umbezi. But I +expect Saduko has forgotten all about both of you now that he is the husband of +a princess of the royal blood. Tell me, how goes it with Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, well, Macumazahn. For is she not the head lady of the Amasomi? +There is nothing wrong with her—nothing at all, except that as yet she +has no child; also that—,” and he paused. +</p> + +<p> +“That what?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“That she hates the very sight of her husband, Masapo, and says that she +would rather be married to a baboon—yes, to a baboon—than to him, +which gives him offence, after he has paid so many cattle for her. But what of +this, Macumazahn? There is always a grain missing upon the finest head of corn. +Nothing is <i>quite</i> perfect in the world, Macumazahn, and if Mameena does +not chance to love her husband—” and he shrugged his shoulders and +drank some “squareface.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it does not matter in the least, Umbezi, except to Mameena and +her husband, who no doubt will settle down in time, now that Saduko is married +to a princess of the Zulu House.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so, Macumazahn, but, to tell the truth, I wish you had brought +more guns, for I live amongst a terrible lot of people. Masapo, who is furious +with Mameena because she will have none of him, and therefore with me, as +though <i>I</i> could control Mameena; Mameena, who is mad with Masapo, and +therefore with me, because I gave her in marriage to him; Saduko, who foams at +the mouth at the name of Masapo, because he has married Mameena, whom, it is +said, he still loves, and therefore at me, because I am her father and did my +best to settle her in the world. Oh, give me some more of that fire-water, +Macumazahn, for it makes me forget all these things, and especially that my +guardian spirit made me the father of Mameena, with whom you would not run away +when you might have done so. Oh, Macumazahn, why did you not run away with +Mameena, and turn her into a quiet white woman who ties herself up in sacks, +sings songs to the ‘Great-Great’ in the sky—[that is, hymns +to the Power above us]—and never thinks of any man who is not her +husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because if I had done so, Umbezi, I should have ceased to be a quiet +white man. Yes, yes, my friend, I should have been in some such place as yours +to-day, and that is the last thing that I wish. And now, Umbezi, you have had +quite enough ‘squareface,’ so I will take the bottle away with me. +Good-night.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +On the following morning I trekked very early from Umbezi’s +kraal—before he was up indeed, for the “squareface” made him +sleep sound. My destination was Nodwengu, Panda’s Great Place, where I +hoped to do some trading, but, as I was in no particular hurry, my plan was to +go round by Masapo’s, and see for myself how it fared between him and +Mameena. Indeed, I reached the borders of the Amasomi territory, whereof Masapo +was chief, by evening, and camped there. But with the night came reflection, +and reflection told me that I should do well to keep clear of Mameena and her +domestic complications, if she had any. So I changed my mind, and next morning +trekked on to Nodwengu by the only route that my guides reported to be +practicable, one which took me a long way round. +</p> + +<p> +That day, owing to the roughness of the road—if road it could be +called—and an accident to one of the wagons, we only covered about +fifteen miles, and as night fell were obliged to outspan at the first spot +where we could find water. When the oxen had been unyoked I looked about me, +and saw that we were in a place that, although I had approached it from a +somewhat different direction, I recognised at once as the mouth of the Black +Kloof, in which, over a year before, I had interviewed Zikali the Little and +Wise. There was no mistaking the spot; that blasted valley, with the piled-up +columns of boulders and the overhanging cliff at the end of it, have, so far as +I am aware, no exact counterparts in Africa. +</p> + +<p> +I sat upon the box of the first wagon, eating my food, which consisted of some +biltong and biscuit, for I had not bothered to shoot any game that day, which +was very hot, and wondering whether Zikali were still alive, also whether I +should take the trouble to walk up the kloof and find out. On the whole I +thought that I would not, as the place repelled me, and I did not particularly +wish to hear any more of his prophecies and fierce, ill-omened talk. So I just +sat there studying the wonderful effect of the red evening light pouring up +between those walls of fantastic rocks. +</p> + +<p> +Presently I perceived, far away, a single human figure—whether it were +man or woman I could not tell—walking towards me along the path which ran +at the bottom of the cleft. In those gigantic surroundings it looked +extraordinarily small and lonely, although perhaps because of the intense red +light in which it was bathed, or perhaps just because it was human, a living +thing in the midst of all that still, inanimate grandeur, it caught and focused +my attention. I grew greatly interested in it; I wondered if it were that of +man or woman, and what it was doing here in this haunted valley. +</p> + +<p> +The figure drew nearer, and now I saw it was slender and tall, like that of a +lad or of a well-grown woman, but to which sex it belonged I could not see, +because it was draped in a cloak of beautiful grey fur. Just then Scowl came to +the other side of the wagon to speak to me about something, which took off my +attention for the next two minutes. When I looked round again it was to see the +figure standing within three yards of me, its face hidden by a kind of hood +which was attached to the fur cloak. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are you, and what is your business?” I asked, whereon a gentle +voice answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you not know me, O Macumazana?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I know one who is tied up like a gourd in a mat? Yet is it +not—is it not—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it is Mameena, and I am very pleased that you should remember my +voice, Macumazahn, after we have been separated for such a long, long +time,” and, with a sudden movement, she threw back the kaross, hood and +all, revealing herself in all her strange beauty. +</p> + +<p> +I jumped down off the wagon-box and took her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” she said, while I still held it—or, to be +accurate, while she still held mine—“indeed my heart is glad to see +a friend again,” and she looked at me with her appealing eyes, which, in +the red light, I could see appeared to float in tears. +</p> + +<p> +“A friend, Mameena!” I exclaimed. “Why, now you are so rich, +and the wife of a big chief, you must have plenty of friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! Macumazahn, I am rich in nothing except trouble, for my husband +saves, like the ants for winter. Why, he even grudged me this poor kaross; and +as for friends, he is so jealous that he will not allow me any.” +</p> + +<p> +“He cannot be jealous of women, Mameena!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, women! <i>Piff!</i> I do not care for women; they are very unkind to +me, because—because—well, perhaps you can guess why, +Macumazahn,” she answered, glancing at her own reflection in a little +travelling looking-glass that hung from the woodwork of the wagon, for I had +been using it to brush my hair, and smiled very sweetly. +</p> + +<p> +“At least you have your husband, Mameena, and I thought that perhaps by +this time—” +</p> + +<p> +She held up her hand. +</p> + +<p> +“My husband! Oh, I would that I had him not, for I hate him, Macumazahn; +and as for the rest—never! The truth is that I never cared for any man +except one whose name <i>you</i> may chance to remember, Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you mean Saduko—” I began. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me, Macumazahn,” she inquired innocently, “are white +people very stupid? I ask because you do not seem as clever as you used to be. +Or have you perhaps a bad memory?” +</p> + +<p> +Now I felt myself turning red as the sky behind me, and broke in hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +“If you did not like your husband, Mameena, you should not have married +him. You know you need not unless you wished.” +</p> + +<p> +“When one has only two thorn bushes to sit on, Macumazahn, one chooses +that which seems to have the fewest prickles, to discover sometimes that they +are still there in hundreds, although one did not see them. You know that at +length everyone gets tired of standing.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that why you have taken to walking, Mameena? I mean, what are you +doing here alone?” +</p> + +<p> +“I? Oh, I heard that you were passing this way, and came to have a talk +with you. No, from you I cannot hide even the least bit of the truth. I came to +talk with you, but also I came to see Zikali and ask him what a wife should do +who hates her husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! And what did he answer you?” +</p> + +<p> +“He answered that he thought she had better run away with another man, if +there were one whom she did not hate—out of Zululand, of course,” +she replied, looking first at me and then at my wagon and the two horses that +were tied to it. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all he said, Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Have I not told you that I cannot hide one grain of the truth from +you? He added that the only other thing to be done was to sit still and drink +my sour milk, pretending that it is sweet, until my Spirit gives me a new cow. +He seemed to think that my Spirit would be bountiful in the matter of new +cows—one day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything more?” I inquired. +</p> + +<p> +“One little thing. Have I not told you that you shall have all—all +the truth? Zikali seemed to think also that at last every one of my herd of +cows, old and new, would come to a bad end. He did not tell me to what +end.” +</p> + +<p> +She turned her head aside, and when she looked up again I saw that she was +weeping, really weeping this time, not just making her eyes swim, as she did +before. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course they will come to a bad end, Macumazahn,” she went on in +a soft, thick voice, “for I and all with whom I have to do were +‘torn out of the reeds’ [i.e. created] that way. And that’s +why I won’t tempt you to run away with me any more, as I meant to do when +I saw you, because it is true, Macumazahn you are the only man I ever liked or +ever shall like; and you know I could make you run away with me if I chose, +although I am black and you are white—oh, yes, before to-morrow morning. +But I won’t do it; for why should I catch you in my unlucky web and bring +you into all sorts of trouble among my people and your own? Go you your road, +Macumazahn, and I will go mine as the wind blows me. And now give me a cup of +water and let me be away—a cup of water, no more. Oh, do not be afraid +for me, or melt too much, lest I should melt also. I have an escort waiting +over yonder hill. There, thank you for your water, Macumazahn, and good night. +Doubtless we shall meet again ere long, and— I forgot; the Little Wise +One said he would like to have a talk with you. Good night, Macumazahn, good +night. I trust that you did a profitable trade with Umbezi my father and Masapo +my husband. I wonder why such men as these should have been chosen to be my +father and my husband. Think it over, Macumazahn, and tell me when next we +meet. Give me that pretty mirror, Macumazahn; when I look in it I shall see you +as well as myself, and that will please me—you don’t know how much. +I thank you. Good night.” +</p> + +<p> +In another minute I was watching her solitary little figure, now wrapped again +in the hooded kaross, as it vanished over the brow of the rise behind us, and +really, as she went, I felt a lump rising in my throat. Notwithstanding all her +wickedness—and I suppose she was wicked—there was something +horribly attractive about Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +When she had gone, taking my only looking-glass with her, and the lump in my +throat had gone also, I began to wonder how much fact there was in her story. +She had protested so earnestly that she told me all the truth that I felt sure +there must be something left behind. Also I remembered she had said Zikali +wanted to see me. Well, the end of it was I took a moonlight walk up that +dreadful gorge, into which not even Scowl would accompany me, because he +declared that the place was well known to be haunted by <i>imikovu</i>, or +spectres who have been raised from the dead by wizards. +</p> + +<p> +It was a long and disagreeable walk, and somehow I felt very depressed and +insignificant as I trudged on between those gigantic cliffs, passing now +through patches of bright moonlight and now through deep pools of shadow, +threading my way among clumps of bush or round the bases of tall pillars of +piled-up stones, till at length I came to the overhanging cliffs at the end, +which frowned down on me like the brows of some titanic demon. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I got to the end at last, and at the gate of the kraal fence was met by +one of those fierce and huge men who served the dwarf as guards. Suddenly he +emerged from behind a stone, and having scanned me for a moment in silence, +beckoned to me to follow him, as though I were expected. A minute later I found +myself face to face with Zikali, who was seated in the clear moonlight just +outside the shadow of his hut, and engaged, apparently, in his favourite +occupation of carving wood with a rough native knife of curious shape. +</p> + +<p> +For a while he took no notice of me; then suddenly looked up, shaking back his +braided grey locks, and broke into one of his great laughs. +</p> + +<p> +“So it is you, Macumazahn,” he said. “Well, I knew you were +passing my way and that Mameena would send you here. But why do you come to see +the ‘Thing-that-should-not-have-been-born’? To tell me how you +fared with the buffalo with the split horn, eh?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Zikali, for why should I tell you what you know already? Mameena +said you wished to talk with me, that was all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then Mameena lied,” he answered, “as is her nature, in whose +throat live four false words for every one of truth. Still, sit down, +Macumazahn. There is beer made ready for you by that stool; and give me the +knife and a pinch of the white man’s snuff that you have brought for me +as a present.” +</p> + +<p> +I produced these articles, though how he knew that I had them with me I cannot +tell, nor did I think it worth while to inquire. The snuff, I remember, pleased +him very much, but of the knife he said that it was a pretty toy, but he would +not know how to use it. Then we fell to talking. +</p> + +<p> +“What was Mameena doing here?” I asked boldly. +</p> + +<p> +“What was she doing at your wagons?” he asked. “Oh, do not +stop to tell me; I know, I know. That is a very good Snake of yours, +Macumazahn, which always just lets you slip through her fingers, when, if she +chose to close her hand— Well, well, I do not betray the secrets of my +clients; but I say this to you—go on to the kraal of the son of +Senzangakona, and you will see things happen that will make you laugh, for +Mameena will be there, and the mongrel Masapo, her husband. Truly she hates him +well, and, after all, I would rather be loved than hated by Mameena, though +both are dangerous. Poor Mongrel! Soon the jackals will be chewing his +bones.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you say that?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Only because Mameena tells me that he is a great wizard, and the jackals +eat many wizards in Zululand. Also he is an enemy of Panda’s House, is he +not?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have been giving her some bad counsel, Zikali,” I said, +blurting out the thought in my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, perhaps, Macumazahn; only I may call it good counsel. I have my +own road to walk, and if I can find some to clear away the thorns that would +prick my feet, what of it? Also she will get her pay, who finds life dull up +there among the Amasomi, with one she hates for a hut-fellow. Go you and watch, +and afterwards, when you have an hour to spare, come and tell me what +happens—that is, if I do not chance to be there to see for myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is Saduko well?” I asked to change the subject, for I did not wish +to become privy to the plots that filled the air. +</p> + +<p> +“I am told that his tree grows great, that it overshadows all the royal +kraal. I think that Mameena wishes to sleep in the shade of it. And now you are +weary, and so am I. Go back to your wagons, Macumazahn, for I have nothing more +to say to you to-night. But be sure to return and tell me what chances at +Panda’s kraal. Or, as I have said, perhaps I shall meet you there. Who +knows, who knows?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, it will be observed that there was nothing very remarkable in this +conversation between Zikali and myself. He did not tell me any deep secrets or +make any great prophecy. It may be wondered, indeed, when there is so much to +record, why I set it down at all. +</p> + +<p> +My answer is, because of the extraordinary impression that it produced upon me. +Although so little was said, I felt all the while that those few words were a +veil hiding terrible events to be. I was sure that some dreadful scheme had +been hatched between the old dwarf and Mameena whereof the issue would soon +become apparent, and that he had sent me away in a hurry after he learned that +she had told me nothing, because he feared lest I should stumble on its cue and +perhaps cause it to fail. +</p> + +<p> +At any rate, as I walked back to my wagons by moonlight down that dreadful +gorge, the hot, thick air seemed to me to have a physical taste and smell of +blood, and the dank foliage of the tropical trees that grew there, when now and +again a puff of wind stirred them, moaned like the fabled <i>imikovu</i>, or as +men might do in their last faint agony. The effect upon my nerves was quite +strange, for when at last I reached my wagons I was shaking like a reed, and a +cold perspiration, unnatural enough upon that hot night, poured from my face +and body. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I took a couple of stiff tots of “squareface” to pull myself +together, and at length went to sleep, to awake before dawn with a headache. +Looking out of the wagon, to my surprise I saw Scowl and the hunters, who +should have been snoring, standing in a group and talking to each other in +frightened whispers. I called Scowl to me and asked what was the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, Baas,” he said with a shamefaced air; “only there +are so many spooks about this place. They have been passing in and out of it +all night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Spooks, you idiot!” I answered. “Probably they were people +going to visit the <i>Nyanga</i>, Zikali.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, Baas; only then we do not know why they should all look like +dead people—princes, some of them, by their dress—and walk upon the +air a man’s height from the ground.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh!” I replied. “Do you not know the difference between +owls in the mist and dead kings? Make ready, for we trek at once; the air here +is full of fever.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, Baas,” he said, springing off to obey; and I do not +think I ever remember two wagons being got under way quicker than they were +that morning. +</p> + +<p> +I merely mention this nonsense to show that the Black Kloof could affect other +people’s nerves as well as my own. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +In due course I reached Nodwengu without accident, having sent forward one of +my hunters to report my approach to Panda. When my wagons arrived outside the +Great Place they were met by none other than my old friend, Maputa, he who had +brought me back the pills before our attack upon Bangu. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Macumazahn,” he said. “I am sent by the King to +say that you are welcome and to point you out a good place to outspan; also to +give you permission to trade as much as you will in this town, since he knows +that your dealings are always fair.” +</p> + +<p> +I returned my thanks in the usual fashion, adding that I had brought a little +present for the King which I would deliver when it pleased him to receive me. +Then I invited Maputa, to whom I also offered some trifle which delighted him +very much, to ride with me on the wagon-box till we came to the selected +outspan. +</p> + +<p> +This, by the way, proved, to be a very good place indeed, a little valley full +of grass for the cattle—for by the King’s order it had not been +grazed—with a stream of beautiful water running down it. Moreover it +overlooked a great open space immediately in front of the main gate of the +town, so that I could see everything that went on and all who arrived or +departed. +</p> + +<p> +“You will be comfortable here, Macumazahn,” said Maputa, +“during your stay, which we hope will be long, since, although there will +soon be a mighty crowd at Nodwengu, the King has given orders that none except +your own servants are to enter this valley.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank the King; but why will there be a crowd, Maputa?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” he answered with a shrug of the shoulders, “because of +a new thing. All the tribes of the Zulus are to come up to be reviewed. Some +say that Cetewayo has brought this about, and some say that it is Umbelazi. But +I am sure that it is the work of neither of these, but of Saduko, your old +friend, though what his object is I cannot tell you. I only trust,” he +added uneasily, “that it will not end in bloodshed between the Great +Brothers.” +</p> + +<p> +“So Saduko has grown tall, Maputa?” +</p> + +<p> +“Tall as a tree, Macumazahn. His whisper in the King’s ear is +louder than the shouts of others. Moreover, he has become a +‘self-eater’ [that is a Zulu term which means one who is very +haughty]. You will have to wait on him, Macumazahn; he will not wait on +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so?” I answered. “Well, tall trees are blown down +sometimes.” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded his wise old head. “Yes, Macumazahn; I have seen plenty grow +and fall in my time, for at last the swimmer goes with the stream. Anyhow, you +will be able to do a good trade among so many, and, whatever happens, none will +harm you whom all love. And now farewell; I bear your messages to the King, who +sends an ox for you to kill lest you should grow hungry in his house.” +</p> + +<p> +That same evening I saw Saduko and the others, as I shall tell. I had been up +to visit the King and give him my present, a case of English table-knives with +bone handles, which pleased him greatly, although he did not in the least know +how to use them. Indeed, without their accompanying forks these are somewhat +futile articles. I found the old fellow very tired and anxious, but as he was +surrounded by <i>indunas</i>, I had no private talk with him. Seeing that he +was busy, I took my leave as soon as I could, and when I walked away whom +should I meet but Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +I saw him while he was a good way off, advancing towards the inner gate with a +train of attendants like a royal personage, and knew very well that he saw me. +Making up my mind what to do at once, I walked straight on to him, forcing him +to give me the path, which he did not wish to do before so many people, and +brushed past him as though he were a stranger. As I expected, this treatment +had the desired effect, for after we had passed each other he turned and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Do you not know me, Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who calls?” I asked. “Why, friend, your face is familiar to +me. How are you named?” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you forgotten Saduko?” he said in a pained voice. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, of course not,” I answered. “I know you now, +although you seem somewhat changed since we went out hunting and fighting +together—I suppose because you are fatter. I trust that you are well, +Saduko? Good-bye. I must be going back to my wagons. If you wish to see me you +will find me there.” +</p> + +<p> +These remarks, I may add, seemed to take Saduko very much aback. At any rate, +he found no reply to them, even when old Maputa, with whom I was walking, and +some others sniggered aloud. There is nothing that Zulus enjoy so much as +seeing one whom they consider an upstart set in his place. +</p> + +<p> +Well, a couple of hours afterwards, just as the sun was sinking, who should +walk up to my wagons but Saduko himself, accompanied by a woman whom I +recognised at once as his wife, the Princess Nandie, who carried a fine baby +boy in her arms. Rising, I saluted Nandie and offered her my camp-stool, which +she looked at suspiciously and declined, preferring to seat herself on the +ground after the native fashion. So I took it back again, and after I had sat +down on it, not before, stretched out my hand to Saduko, who by this time was +quite humble and polite. +</p> + +<p> +Well, we talked away, and by degrees, without seeming too much interested in +them, I was furnished with a list of all the advancements which it had pleased +Panda to heap upon Saduko during the past year. In their way they were +remarkable enough, for it was much as though some penniless country gentleman +in England had been promoted in that short space of time to be one of the +premier peers of the kingdom and endowed with great offices and estates. When +he had finished the count of them he paused, evidently waiting for me to +congratulate him. But all I said was: +</p> + +<p> +“By the Heavens above I am sorry for you, Saduko! How many enemies you +must have made! What a long way there will be for you to fall one +night!”—a remark at which the quiet Nandie broke into a low laugh +that I think pleased her husband even less than my sarcasm. “Well,” +I went on, “I see that you have got a baby, which is much better than all +these titles. May I look at it, <i>Inkosazana?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Of course she was delighted, and we proceeded to inspect the baby, which +evidently she loved more than anything on earth. Whilst we were examining the +child and chatting about it, Saduko sitting by meanwhile in the sulks, who on +earth should appear but Mameena and her fat and sullen-looking husband, the +chief Masapo. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Macumazahn,” she said, appearing to notice no one else, +“how pleased I am to see you after a whole long year!” +</p> + +<p> +I stared at her and my jaw dropped. Then I recovered myself, thinking she must +have made a mistake and meant to say “week.” +</p> + +<p> +“Twelve moons,” she went on, “and, Macumazahn, not one of +them has gone by but I have thought of you several times and wondered if we +should ever meet again. Where have you been all this while?” +</p> + +<p> +“In many places,” I answered; “amongst others at the Black +Kloof, where I called upon the dwarf, Zikali, and lost my looking-glass.” +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>Nyanga</i>, Zikali! Oh, how often have I wished to see him. But, +of course, I cannot, for I am told he will not receive any women.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, I am sure,” I replied, “but you might +try; perhaps he would make an exception in your favour.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I will, Macumazahn,” she murmured, whereon I collapsed +into silence, feeling that things were getting beyond me. +</p> + +<p> +When I recovered myself a little it was to hear Mameena greeting Saduko with +much effusion, and complimenting him on his rise in life, which she said she +had always foreseen. This remark seemed to bowl out Saduko also, for he made no +answer to it, although I noticed that he could not take his eyes off +Mameena’s beautiful face. Presently, however, he seemed to become aware +of Masapo, and instantly his whole demeanour changed, for it grew proud and +even terrible. Masapo tendered him some greeting; whereon Saduko turned upon +him and said: +</p> + +<p> +“What, chief of the Amasomi, do you give the good-day to an +<i>umfokazana</i> and a mangy hyena? Why do you do this? Is it because the low +<i>umfokazana</i> has become a noble and the mangy hyena has put on a +tiger’s coat?” And he glared at him like a veritable tiger. +</p> + +<p> +Masapo made no answer that I could catch. Muttering some inaudible words, he +turned to depart, and in doing so—quite innocently, I think—struck +Nandie, knocking her over on to her back and causing the child to fall out of +her arms in such fashion that its tender head struck against a pebble with +sufficient force to cause it to bleed. +</p> + +<p> +Saduko leapt at him, smiting him across the shoulders with the little stick +that he carried. For a moment Masapo paused, and I thought that he was going to +show fight. If he had any such intention, however, he changed his mind, for +without a word, or showing any resentment at the insult which he had received, +he broke into a heavy run and vanished among the evening shadows. Mameena, who +had observed all, broke into something else, namely, a laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Piff!</i> My husband is big yet not brave,” she said, +“but I do not think he meant to hurt you, woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you speak to me, wife of Masapo?” asked Nandie with gentle +dignity, as she gained her feet and picked up the stunned child. “If so, +my name and titles are the <i>Inkosazana</i> Nandie, daughter of the Black One +and wife of the lord Saduko.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon,” replied Mameena humbly, for she was cowed at once. +“I did not know who you were, <i>Inkosazana</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is granted, wife of Masapo. Macumazahn, give me water, I pray you, +that I may bathe the head of my child.” +</p> + +<p> +The water was brought, and presently, when the little one seemed all right +again, for it had only received a scratch, Nandie thanked me and departed to +her own huts, saying with a smile to her husband as she passed that there was +no need for him to accompany her, as she had servants waiting at the kraal +gate. So Saduko stayed behind, and Mameena stayed also. He talked with me for +quite a long while, for he had much to tell me, although all the time I felt +that his heart was not in his talk. His heart was with Mameena, who sat there +and smiled continually in her mysterious way, only putting in a word now and +again, as though to excuse her presence. +</p> + +<p> +At length she rose and said with a sigh that she must be going back to where +the Amasomi were in camp, as Masapo would need her to see to his food. By now +it was quite dark, although I remember that from time to time the sky was lit +up by sheet lightning, for a storm was brewing. As I expected, Saduko rose +also, saying that he would see me on the morrow, and went away with Mameena, +walking like one who dreams. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later I had occasion to leave the wagons in order to inspect one +of the oxen which was tied up by itself at a distance, because it had shown +signs of some sickness that might or might not be catching. Moving quietly, as +I always do from a hunter’s habit, I walked alone to the place where the +beast was tethered behind some mimosa thorns. Just as I reached these thorns +the broad lightning shone out vividly, and showed me Saduko holding the +unresisting shape of Mameena in his arms and kissing her passionately. +</p> + +<p> +Then I turned and went back to the wagons even more quietly than I had come. +</p> + +<p> +I should add that on the morrow I found out that, after all, there was nothing +serious the matter with my ox. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>Chapter X.<br /> +THE SMELLING-OUT</h2> + +<p> +After these events matters went on quietly for some time. I visited +Saduko’s huts—very fine huts—about the doors of which sat +quite a number of his tribesmen, who seemed glad to see me again. Here I +learned from the Lady Nandie that her babe, whom she loved dearly, was none the +worse for its little accident. Also I learned from Saduko himself, who came in +before I left, attended like a prince by several notable men, that he had made +up his quarrel with Masapo, and, indeed, apologised to him, as he found that he +had not really meant to insult the princess, his wife, having only thrust her +over by accident. Saduko added indeed that now they were good friends, which +was well for Masapo, a man whom the King had no cause to like. I said that I +was glad to hear it, and went on to call upon Masapo, who received me with +enthusiasm, as also did Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +Here I noted with pleasure that this pair seemed to be on much better terms +than I understood had been the case in the past, for Mameena even addressed her +husband on two separate occasions in very affectionate language, and fetched +something that he wanted without waiting to be asked. Masapo, too, was in +excellent spirits, because, as he told me, the old quarrel between him and +Saduko was thoroughly made up, their reconciliation having been sealed by an +interchange of gifts. He added that he was very glad that this was the case, +since Saduko was now one of the most powerful men in the country, who could +harm him much if he chose, especially as some secret enemy had put it about of +late that he, Masapo, was an enemy of the King’s House, and an evil-doer +who practised witchcraft. In proof of his new friendship, however, Saduko had +promised that these slanders should be looked into and their originator +punished, if he or she could be found. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I congratulated him and took my departure, “thinking +furiously,” as the Frenchman says. That there was a tragedy pending I was +sure; this weather was too calm to last; the water ran so still because it was +preparing to leap down some hidden precipice. +</p> + +<p> +Yet what could I do? Tell Masapo I had seen his wife being embraced by another +man? Surely that was not my business; it was Masapo’s business to attend +to her conduct. Also they would both deny it, and I had no witness. Tell him +that Saduko’s reconciliation with him was not sincere, and that he had +better look to himself? How did I know it was not sincere? It might suit +Saduko’s book to make friends with Masapo, and if I interfered <i>I</i> +should only make enemies and be called a liar who was working for some secret +end. +</p> + +<p> +Go to Panda and confide my suspicions to him? He was far too anxious and busy +about great matters to listen to me, and if he did, would only laugh at this +tale of a petty flirtation. No, there was nothing to be done except sit still +and wait. Very possibly I was mistaken, after all, and things would smooth +themselves out, as they generally do. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile the “reviewing,” or whatever it may have been, was in +progress, and I was busy with my own affairs, making hay while the sun shone. +So great were the crowds of people who came up to Nodwengu that in a week I had +sold everything I had to sell in the two wagons, that were mostly laden with +cloth, beads, knives and so forth. Moreover, the prices I got were splendid, +since the buyers bid against each other, and before I was cleared out I had +collected quite a herd of cattle, also a quantity of ivory. These I sent on to +Natal with one of the wagons, remaining behind myself with the other, partly +because Panda asked me to do so—for now and again he would seek my advice +on sundry questions—and partly from curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +There was plenty to be curious about up at Nodwengu just then, since no one was +sure that civil war would not break out between the princes Cetewayo and +Umbelazi, whose factions were present in force. +</p> + +<p> +It was averted for the time, however, by Umbelazi keeping away from the great +gathering under pretext of being sick, and leaving Saduko and some others to +watch his interests. Also the rival regiments were not allowed to approach the +town at the same time. So that public cloud passed over, to the enormous relief +of everyone, especially of Panda the King. As to the private cloud whereof this +history tells, it was otherwise. +</p> + +<p> +As the tribes came up to the Great Place they were reviewed and sent away, +since it was impossible to feed so vast a multitude as would have collected had +they all remained. Thus the Amasomi, a small people who were amongst the first +to arrive, soon left. Only, for some reason which I never quite understood, +Masapo, Mameena and a few of Masapo’s children and headmen were detained +there; though perhaps, if she had chosen, Mameena could have given an +explanation. +</p> + +<p> +Well, things began to happen. Sundry personages were taken ill, and some of +them died suddenly; and soon it was noted that all these people either lived +near to where Masapo’s family was lodged or had at some time or other +been on bad terms with him. Thus Saduko himself was taken ill, or said he was; +at any rate, he vanished from public gaze for three days, and reappeared +looking very sorry for himself, though I could not observe that he had lost +strength or weight. These catastrophes I pass over, however, in order to come +to the greatest of them, which is one of the turning points of this chronicle. +</p> + +<p> +After recovering from his alleged sickness Saduko gave a kind of thanksgiving +feast, at which several oxen were killed. I was present at this feast, or +rather at the last part of it, for I only put in what may be called a +complimentary appearance, having no taste for such native gorgings. As it drew +near its close Saduko sent for Nandie, who at first refused to come as there +were no women present—I think because he wished to show his friends that +he had a princess of the royal blood for his wife, who had borne him a son that +one day would be great in the land. For Saduko, as I have said, had become a +“self-eater,” and this day his pride was inflamed by the adulation +of the company and by the beer that he had drunk. +</p> + +<p> +At length Nandie did come, carrying her babe, from which she never would be +parted. In her dignified, ladylike fashion (although it seems an odd term to +apply to a savage, I know none that describes her better) she greeted first me +and then sundry of the other guests, saying a few words to each of them. At +length she came opposite to Masapo, who had dined not wisely but too well, and +to him, out of her natural courtesy, spoke rather longer than to the others, +inquiring after his wife, Mameena, and others. At the moment it occurred to me +that she did this in order to assure him that she bore no malice because of the +accident of a while before, and was a party to her husband’s +reconciliation with him. +</p> + +<p> +Masapo, in a hazy way, tried to reciprocate these kind intentions. Rising to +his feet, his fat, coarse body swaying to and fro because of the beer that he +had drunk, he expressed satisfaction at the feast that had been prepared in her +house. Then, his eyes falling on the child, he began to declaim about its size +and beauty, until he was stopped by the murmured protests of others, since +among natives it is held to be not fortunate to praise a young child. Indeed, +the person who does so is apt to be called an <i>umtakati</i>, or bewitcher, +who will bring evil upon its head, a word that I heard murmured by several near +to me. Not satisfied with this serious breach of etiquette, the intoxicated +Masapo snatched the infant from its mother’s arms under pretext of +looking for the hurt that had been caused to its brow when it fell to the +ground at my camp, and finding none, proceeded to kiss it with his thick lips. +</p> + +<p> +Nandie dragged it from him, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Would you bring death upon my son, O Chief of the Amasomi?” +</p> + +<p> +Then, turning, she walked away from the feasters, upon whom there fell a +certain hush. +</p> + +<p> +Fearing lest something unpleasant should ensue, for I saw Saduko biting his +lips with rage not unmixed with fear, and remembering Masapo’s reputation +as a wizard, I took advantage of this pause to bid a general good night to the +company and retire to my camp. +</p> + +<p> +What happened immediately after I left I do not know, but just before dawn on +the following morning I was awakened from sleep in my wagon by my servant +Scowl, who said that a messenger had come from the huts of Saduko, begging that +I would proceed there at once and bring the white man’s medicines, as his +child was very ill. Of course I got up and went, taking with me some +ipecacuanha and a few other remedies that I thought might be suitable for +infantile ailments. +</p> + +<p> +Outside the huts, which I reached just as the sun began to rise, I was met by +Saduko himself, who was coming to seek me, as I saw at once, in a state of +terrible grief. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” he answered, “that dog Masapo has bewitched +my boy, and unless you can save him he dies.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense,” I said, “why do you utter wind? If the babe is +sick, it is from some natural cause.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait till you see it,” he replied. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I went into the big hut, and there found Nandie and some other women, +also a native doctor or two. Nandie was seated on the floor looking like a +stone image of grief, for she made no sound, only pointed with her finger to +the infant that lay upon a mat in front of her. +</p> + +<p> +A single glance showed me that it was dying of some disease of which I had no +knowledge, for its dusky little body was covered with red blotches and its tiny +face twisted all awry. I told the women to heat water, thinking that possibly +this might be a case of convulsions, which a hot bath would mitigate; but +before it was ready the poor babe uttered a thin wail and died. +</p> + +<p> +Then, when she saw that her child was gone, Nandie spoke for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +“The wizard has done his work well,” she said, and flung herself +face downwards on the floor of the hut. +</p> + +<p> +As I did not know what to answer, I went out, followed by Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“What has killed my son, Macumazahn?” he asked in a hollow voice, +the tears running down his handsome face, for he had loved his firstborn. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot tell,” I replied; “but had he been older I should +have thought he had eaten something poisonous, which seems impossible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Macumazahn, and the poison that he has eaten came from the breath +of a wizard whom you may chance to have seen kiss him last night. Well, his +life shall be avenged.” +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko,” I exclaimed, “do not be unjust. There are many +sicknesses that may have killed your son of which I have no knowledge, who am +not a trained doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not be unjust, Macumazahn. The babe has died by witchcraft, like +others in this town of late, but the evil-doer may not be he whom I suspect. +That is for the smellers-out to decide,” and without more words he turned +and left me. +</p> + +<p> +Next day Masapo was put upon his trial before a Court of Councillors, over +which the King himself presided, a very unusual thing for him to do, and one +which showed the great interest he took in the case. +</p> + +<p> +At this court I was summoned to give evidence, and, of course, confined myself +to answering such questions as were put to me. Practically these were but two. +What had passed at my wagons when Masapo had knocked over Nandie and her child, +and Saduko had struck him, and what had I seen at Saduko’s feast when +Masapo had kissed the infant? I told them in as few words as I could, and after +some slight cross-examination by Masapo, made with a view to prove that the +upsetting of Nandie was an accident and that he was drunk at Saduko’s +feast, to both of which suggestions I assented, I rose to go. Panda, however, +stopped me and bade me describe the aspect of the child when I was called in to +give it medicine. +</p> + +<p> +I did so as accurately as possible, and could see that my account made a deep +impression on the mind of the court. Then Panda asked me if I had ever seen any +similar case, to which I was obliged to reply: +</p> + +<p> +“No, I have not.” +</p> + +<p> +After this the Councillors consulted privately, and when we were called back +the King gave his judgment, which was very brief. It was evident, he said, that +there had been events which might have caused enmity to arise in the mind of +Masapo against Saduko, by whom Masapo had been struck with a stick. Therefore, +although a reconciliation had taken place, there seemed to be a possible motive +for revenge. But if Masapo killed the child, there was no evidence to show how +he had done so. Moreover, that infant, his own grandson, had not died of any +known disease. He had, however, died of a similar disease to that which had +carried off certain others with whom Masapo had been mixed up, whereas more, +including Saduko himself, had been sick and recovered, all of which seemed to +make a strong case against Masapo. +</p> + +<p> +Still, he and his Councillors wished not to condemn without full proof. That +being so, they had determined to call in the services of some great +witch-doctor, one who lived at a distance and knew nothing of the +circumstances. Who that doctor should be was not yet settled. When it was and +he had arrived, the case would be re-opened, and meanwhile Masapo would be kept +a close prisoner. Finally, he prayed that the white man, Macumazahn, would +remain at his town until the matter was settled. +</p> + +<p> +So Masapo was led off, looking very dejected, and, having saluted the King, we +all went away. +</p> + +<p> +I should add that, except for the remission of the case to the court of the +witch-doctor, which, of course, was an instance of pure Kafir superstition, +this judgment of the King’s seemed to me well reasoned and just, very +different indeed from what would have been given by Dingaan or Chaka, who were +wont, on less evidence, to make a clean sweep not only of the accused, but of +all his family and dependents. +</p> + +<p> +About eight days later, during which time I had heard nothing of the matter and +seen no one connected with it, for the whole thing seemed to have become +<i>Zila</i>—that is, not to be talked about—I received a summons to +attend the “smelling-out,” and went, wondering what witch-doctor +had been chosen for that bloody and barbarous ceremony. Indeed, I had not far +to go, since the place selected for the occasion was outside the fence of the +town of Nodwengu, on that great open stretch of ground which lay at the mouth +of the valley where I was camped. Here, as I approached, I saw a vast multitude +of people crowded together, fifty deep or more, round a little oval space not +much larger than the pit of a theatre. On the inmost edge of this ring were +seated many notable people, male and female, and as I was conducted to the side +of it which was nearest to the gate of the town, I observed among them Saduko, +Masapo, Mameena and others, and mixed up with them a number of soldiers, who +were evidently on duty. +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely had I seated myself on a camp-stool, carried by my servant Scowl, when +through the gate of the kraal issued Panda and certain of his Council, whose +appearance the multitude greeted with the royal salute of <i>Bayéte</i>, that +came from them in a deep and simultaneous roar of sound. When its echoes died +away, in the midst of a deep silence Panda spoke, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Bring forth the Nyanga [doctor]. Let the <i>umhlahlo</i> [that is, the +witch-trial] begin!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a long pause, and then in the open gateway appeared a solitary figure +that at first sight seemed to be scarcely human, the figure of a dwarf with a +gigantic head, from which hung long, white hair, plaited into locks. It was +Zikali, no other! +</p> + +<p> +Quite unattended, and naked save for his moocha, for he had on him none of the +ordinary paraphernalia of the witch-doctor, he waddled forward with a curious +toad-like gait till he had passed through the Councillors and stood in the open +space of the ring. Halting there, he looked about him slowly with his deep-set +eyes, turning as he looked, till at length his glance fell upon the King. +</p> + +<p> +“What would you have of me, Son of Senzangakona?” he asked. +“Many years have passed since last we met. Why do you drag me from my +hut, I who have visited the kraal of the King of the Zulus but twice since the +‘Black One’ [Chaka] sat upon the throne—once when the Boers +were killed by him who went before you, and once when I was brought forth to +see all who were left of my race, shoots of the royal Dwandwe stock, slain +before my eyes. Do you bear me hither that I may follow them into the darkness, +O Child of Senzangakona? If so I am ready; only then I have words to say that +it may not please you to hear.” +</p> + +<p> +His deep, rumbling voice echoed into silence, while the great audience waited +for the King’s answer. I could see that they were all afraid of this man, +yes, even Panda was afraid, for he shifted uneasily upon his stool. At length +he spoke, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, O Zikali. Who would wish to do hurt to the wisest and most +ancient man in all the land, to him who touches the far past with one hand and +the present with the other, to him who was old before our grandfathers began to +be? Nay, you are safe, you on whom not even the ‘Black One’ dared +to lay a finger, although you were his enemy and he hated you. As for the +reason why you have been brought here, tell it to us, O Zikali. Who are we that +we should instruct you in the ways of wisdom?” +</p> + +<p> +When the dwarf heard this he broke into one of his great laughs. +</p> + +<p> +“So at last the House of Senzangakona acknowledges that I have wisdom. +Then before all is done they will think me wise indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +He laughed again in his ill-omened fashion and went on hurriedly, as though he +feared that he should be called upon to explain his words: +</p> + +<p> +“Where is the fee? Where is the fee? Is the King so poor that he expects +an old Dwandwe doctor to divine for nothing, just as though he were working for +a private friend?” +</p> + +<p> +Panda made a motion with his hand, and ten fine heifers were driven into the +circle from some place where they had been kept in waiting. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry beasts!” said Zikali contemptuously, “compared to +those we used to breed before the time of Senzangakona”—a remark +which caused a loud “<i>Wow!</i>” of astonishment to be uttered by +the multitude that heard it. “Still, such as they are, let them be taken +to my kraal, with a bull, for I have none.” +</p> + +<p> +The cattle were driven away, and the ancient dwarf squatted himself down and +stared at the ground, looking like a great black toad. For a long +while—quite ten minutes, I should think—he stared thus, till I, for +one, watching him intently, began to feel as though I were mesmerised. +</p> + +<p> +At length he looked up, tossing back his grey locks, and said: +</p> + +<p> +“I see many things in the dust. Oh, yes, it is alive, it is alive, and +tells me many things. Show that you are alive, O Dust. Look!” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, throwing his hands upwards, there arose at his very feet one of +those tiny and incomprehensible whirlwinds with which all who know South Africa +will be familiar. It drove the dust together; it lifted it in a tall, spiral +column that rose and rose to a height of fifty feet or more. Then it died away +as suddenly as it had come, so that the dust fell down again over Zikali, over +the King, and over three of his sons who sat behind him. Those three sons, I +remember, were named Tshonkweni, Dabulesinye, and Mantantashiya. As it chanced, +by a strange coincidence all of these were killed at the great battle of the +Tugela of which I have to tell. +</p> + +<p> +Now again an exclamation of fear and wonder rose from the audience, who set +down this lifting of the dust at Zikali’s very feet not to natural +causes, but to the power of his magic. Moreover, those on whom it had fallen, +including the King, rose hurriedly and shook and brushed it from their persons +with a zeal that was not, I think, inspired by a mere desire for cleanliness. +But Zikali only laughed again in his terrible fashion and let it lie on his +fresh-oiled body, which it turned to the dull, dead hue of a grey adder. +</p> + +<p> +He rose and, stepping here and there, examined the new-fallen dust. Then he put +his hand into a pouch he wore and produced from it a dried human finger, +whereof the nail was so pink that I think it must have been coloured—a +sight at which the circle shuddered. +</p> + +<p> +“Be clever,” he said, “O Finger of her I loved best; be +clever and write in the dust as yonder Macumazana can write, and as some of the +Dwandwe used to write before we became slaves and bowed ourselves down before +the Great Heavens.” (By this he meant the Zulus, whose name means the +Heavens.) “Be clever, dear Finger which caressed me once, me, the +‘Thing-that-should-not-have-been-born,’ as more will think before I +die, and write those matters that it pleases the House of Senzangakona to know +this day.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he bent down, and with the dead finger at three separate spots made +certain markings in the fallen dust, which to me seemed to consist of circles +and dots; and a strange and horrid sight it was to see him do it. +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, dear Finger. Now sleep, sleep, your work is done,” +and slowly he wrapped the relic up in some soft material and restored it to his +pouch. +</p> + +<p> +Then he studied the first of the markings and asked: “What am I here for? +What am I here for? Does he who sits upon the Throne desire to know how long he +has to reign?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, those of the inner circle of the spectators, who at these +“smellings-out” act as a kind of chorus, looked at the King, and, +seeing that he shook his head vigorously, stretched out their right hands, +holding the thumb downwards, and said simultaneously in a cold, low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (That is, “We hear you.”) +</p> + +<p> +Zikali stamped upon this set of markings. +</p> + +<p> +“It is well,” he said. “He who sits upon the Throne does not +desire to know how long he has to reign, and therefore the dust has forgotten +and shows it not to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he walked to the next markings and studied them. +</p> + +<p> +“Does the Child of Senzangakona desire to know which of his sons shall +live and which shall die; aye, and which of them shall sleep in his hut when he +is gone?” +</p> + +<p> +Now a great roar of “<i>Izwa!</i>” accompanied by the clapping of +hands, rose from all the outer multitude who heard, for there was no +information that the Zulu people desired so earnestly as this at the time of +which I write. +</p> + +<p> +But again Panda, who, I saw, was thoroughly alarmed at the turn things were +taking, shook his head vigorously, whereon the obedient chorus negatived the +question in the same fashion as before. +</p> + +<p> +Zikali stamped upon the second set of markings, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“The people desire to know, but the Great Ones are afraid to learn, and +therefore the dust has forgotten who in the days to come shall sleep in the hut +of the King and who shall sleep in the bellies of the jackals and the crops of +the vultures after they have ‘gone beyond’ by the bridge of +spears.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, at this awful speech (which, both because of all that it implied of +bloodshed and civil war and of the wild, wailing voice in which it was spoken, +that seemed quite different from Zikali’s, caused everyone who heard it, +including myself, I am afraid, to gasp and shiver) the King sprang from his +stool as though to put a stop to such doctoring. Then, after his fashion, he +changed his mind and sat down again. But Zikali, taking no heed, went to the +third set of marks and studied them. +</p> + +<p> +“It would seem,” he said, “that I am awakened from sleep in +my Black House yonder to tell of a very little matter, that might well have +been dealt with by any common <i>Nyanga</i> born but yesterday. Well, I have +taken my fee, and I will earn it, although I thought that I was brought here to +speak of great matters, such as the death of princes and the fortunes of +peoples. Is it desired that my Spirit should speak of wizardries in this town +of Nodwengu?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” said the chorus in a loud voice. +</p> + +<p> +Zikali nodded his great head and seemed to talk with the dust, waiting now and +again for an answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Good,” he said; “they are many, and the dust has told them +all to me. Oh, they are very many”—and he glared around +him—“so many that if I spoke them all the hyenas of the hills would +be full to-night—” +</p> + +<p> +Here the audience began to show signs of great apprehension. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” looking down at the dust and turning his head sideways, +“what do you say, what do you say? Speak more plainly, Little Voices, for +you know I grow deaf. Oh! now I understand. The matter is even smaller than I +thought. Just of one wizard—” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (loudly). +</p> + +<p> +“—just of a few deaths and some sicknesses.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Just of one death, one principal death.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (very loudly). +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! So we have it—one death. Now, was it a man?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (very coldly). +</p> + +<p> +“A woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (still more coldly). +</p> + +<p> +“Then a child? It must be a child, unless indeed it is the death of a +spirit. But what do you people know of spirits? A child! A child! Ah! you hear +me—a child. A male child, I think. Do you not say so, O Dust?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (emphatically). +</p> + +<p> +“A common child? A bastard? The son of nobody?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa!</i>” (very low). +</p> + +<p> +“A well-born child? One who would have been great? O Dust, I hear, I +hear; a royal child, a child in whom ran the blood of the Father of the Zulus, +he who was my friend? The blood of Senzangakona, the blood of the ‘Black +One,’ the blood of Panda.” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped, while both from the chorus and from the thousands of the circle +gathered around went up one roar of “<i>Izwa!</i>” emphasised by a +mighty movement of outstretched arms and down-pointing thumbs. +</p> + +<p> +Then silence, during which Zikali stamped upon all the remaining markings, +saying: +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, O Dust, though I am sorry to have troubled you for so small +a matter. So, so,” he went on presently, “a royal boy-child is +dead, and you think by witchcraft. Let us find out if he died by witchcraft or +as others die, by command of the Heavens that need them. What! Here is one mark +which I have left. Look! It grows red, it is full of spots! The child died with +a twisted face.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Izwa! Izwa! Izwa!</i>” (crescendo). +</p> + +<p> +“This death was not natural. Now, was it witchcraft or was it poison? +Both, I think, both. And whose was the child? Not that of a son of the King, I +think. Oh, yes, you hear me, People, you hear me; but be silent; I do not need +your help. No, not of a son; of a daughter, then.” He turned and, looked +about him till his eye fell upon a group of women, amongst whom sat Nandie, +dressed like a common person. “Of a daughter, a daughter—” He +walked to the group of women. “Why, none of these are royal; they are the +children of low people. And yet—and yet I seem to smell the blood of +Senzangakona.” +</p> + +<p> +He sniffed at the air as a dog does, and as he sniffed drew ever nearer to +Nandie, till at last he laughed and pointed to her. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Your</i> child, Princess, whose name I do not know. Your firstborn +child, whom you loved more than your own heart.” +</p> + +<p> +She rose. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, <i>Nyanga</i>,” she cried. “I am the Princess +Nandie, and he was my child, whom I loved more than my own heart.” +</p> + +<p> +“Haha!” said Zikali. “Dust, you did not lie to me. My Spirit, +you did not lie to me. But now, tell me, Dust—and tell me, my +Spirit—who killed this child?” +</p> + +<p> +He began to waddle round the circle, an extraordinary sight, covered as he was +with grey grime, varied with streaks of black skin where the perspiration had +washed the dust away. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he came opposite to me, and, to my dismay, paused, sniffing at me as +he had at Nandie. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! ah! O Macumazana,” he said, “you have something to do +with this matter,” a saying at which all that audience pricked their +ears. +</p> + +<p> +Then I rose up in wrath and fear, knowing my position to be one of some danger. +</p> + +<p> +“Wizard, or Smeller-out of Wizards, whichever you name yourself,” I +called in a loud voice, “if you mean that <i>I</i> killed Nandie’s +child, you lie!” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Macumazahn,” he answered, “but you tried to save it, +and therefore you had something to do with the matter, had you not? Moreover, I +think that you, who are wise like me, know who did kill it. Won’t you +tell me, Macumazahn? No? Then I must find out for myself. Be at peace. Does not +all the land know that your hands are white as your heart?” +</p> + +<p> +Then, to my great relief, he passed on, amidst a murmur of approbation, for, as +I have said, the Zulus liked me. Round and round he wandered, to my surprise +passing both Mameena and Masapo without taking any particular note of them, +although he scanned them both, and I thought that I saw a swift glance of +recognition pass between him and Mameena. It was curious to watch his progress, +for as he went those in front of him swayed in their terror like corn before a +puff of wind, and when he had passed they straightened themselves as the corn +does when the wind has gone by. +</p> + +<p> +At length he had finished his journey and returned to his starting-point, to +all appearance completely puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“You keep so many wizards at your kraal, King,” he said, addressing +Panda, “that it is hard to say which of them wrought this deed. It would +have been easier to tell you of greater matters. Yet I have taken your fee, and +I must earn it—I must earn it. Dust, you are dumb. Now, my +<i>Idhlozi</i>, my Spirit, do you speak?” and, holding his head sideways, +he turned his left ear up towards the sky, then said presently, in a curious, +matter-of-fact voice: +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I thank you, Spirit. Well, King, your grandchild was killed by the +House of Masapo, your enemy, chief of the Amasomi.” +</p> + +<p> +Now a roar of approbation went up from the audience, among whom Masapo’s +guilt was a foregone conclusion. +</p> + +<p> +When this had died down Panda spoke, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“The House of Masapo is a large house; I believe that he has several +wives and many children. It is not enough to smell out the House, since I am +not as those who went before me were, nor will I slay the innocent with the +guilty. Tell us, O Opener-of-Roads, who among the House of Masapo has wrought +this deed?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just the question,” grumbled Zikali in a deep voice. +“All that I know is that it was done by poisoning, and I smell the +poison. It is here.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he walked to where Mameena sat and cried out: +</p> + +<p> +“Seize that woman and search her hair.” +</p> + +<p> +Executioners who were in waiting sprang forward, but Mameena waved them away. +</p> + +<p> +“Friends,” she said, with a little laugh, “there is no need +to touch me,” and, rising, she stepped forward to the centre of the ring. +Here, with a few swift motions of her hands, she flung off first the cloak she +wore, then the moocha about her middle, and lastly the fillet that bound her +long hair, and stood before that audience in all her naked beauty—a +wondrous and a lovely sight. +</p> + +<p> +“Now,” she said, “let women come and search me and my +garments, and see if there is any poison hid there.” +</p> + +<p> +Two old crones stepped forward—though I do not know who sent +them—and carried out a very thorough examination, finally reporting that +they had found nothing. Thereon Mameena, with a shrug of her shoulders, resumed +such clothes as she wore, and returned to her place. +</p> + +<p> +Zikali appeared to grow angry. He stamped upon the ground with his big feet; he +shook his braided grey locks and cried out: +</p> + +<p> +“Is my wisdom to be defeated in such a little matter? One of you tie a +bandage over my eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +Now a man—it was Maputa, the messenger—came out and did so, and I +noted that he tied it well and tight. Zikali whirled round upon his heels, +first one way and then another, and, crying aloud: “Guide me, my +Spirit!” marched forward in a zigzag fashion, as a blindfolded man does, +with his arms stretched out in front of him. First he went to the right, then +to the left, and then straight forward, till at length, to my astonishment, he +came exactly opposite the spot where Masapo sat and, stretching out his great, +groping hands, seized the kaross with which he was covered and, with a jerk, +tore it from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Search this!” he cried, throwing it on the ground, and a woman +searched. +</p> + +<p> +Presently she uttered an exclamation, and from among the fur of one of the +tails of the kaross produced a tiny bag that appeared to be made out of the +bladder of a fish. This she handed to Zikali, whose eyes had now been +unbandaged. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at it, then gave it to Maputa, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“There is the poison—there is the poison, but who gave it I do not +say. I am weary. Let me go.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, none hindering him, he walked away through the gate of the kraal. +</p> + +<p> +Soldiers seized upon Masapo, while the multitude roared: “Kill the +wizard!” +</p> + +<p> +Masapo sprang up, and, running to where the King sat, flung himself upon his +knees, protesting his innocence and praying for mercy. I also, who had doubts +as to all this business, ventured to rise and speak. +</p> + +<p> +“O King,” I said, “as one who has known this man in the past, +I plead with you. How that powder came into his kaross I know not, but +perchance it is not poison, only harmless dust.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, it is but wood dust which I use for the cleaning of my +nails,” cried Masapo, for he was so terrified I think he knew not what he +said. +</p> + +<p> +“So you own to knowledge of the medicine?” exclaimed Panda. +“Therefore none hid it in your kaross through malice.” +</p> + +<p> +Masapo began to explain, but what he said was lost in a mighty roar of +“<i>Kill the wizard!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Panda held up his hand and there was silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring milk in a dish,” commanded the King, and it, was brought, +and, at a further word from him, dusted with the powder. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, O Macumazana,” said Panda to me, “if you still think +that yonder man is innocent, will you drink this milk?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not like milk, O King,” I answered, shaking my head, whereon +all who heard me laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Will Mameena, his wife, drink it, then?” asked Panda. +</p> + +<p> +She also shook her head, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“O King, I drink no milk that is mixed with dust.” +</p> + +<p> +Just then a lean, white dog, one of those homeless, mangy beasts that stray +about kraals and live upon carrion, wandered into the ring. Panda made a sign, +and a servant, going to where the poor beast stood staring about it hungrily, +set down the wooden dish of milk in front of it. Instantly the dog lapped it +up, for it was starving, and as it finished the last drop the man slipped a +leathern thong about its neck and held it fast. +</p> + +<p> +Now all eyes were fixed upon the dog, mine among them. Presently the beast +uttered a long and melancholy howl which thrilled me through, for I knew it to +be Masapo’s death warrant, then began to scratch the ground and foam at +the mouth. Guessing what would follow, I rose, bowed to the King, and walked +away to my camp, which, it will be remembered, was set up in a little kloof +commanding this place, at a distance only of a few hundred yards. So intent was +all the multitude upon watching the dog that I doubt whether anyone saw me go. +As for that poor beast, Scowl, who stayed behind, told me that it did not die +for about ten minutes, since before its end a red rash appeared upon it similar +to that which I had seen upon Saduko’s child, and it was seized with +convulsions. +</p> + +<p> +Well, I reached my tent unmolested, and, having lit my pipe, engaged myself in +making business entries in my note-book, in order to divert my mind as much as +I could, when suddenly I heard a most devilish clamour. Looking up, I saw +Masapo running towards me with a speed that I should have thought impossible in +so fat a man, while after him raced the fierce-faced executioners, and behind +came the mob. +</p> + +<p> +“Kill the evil-doer!” they shouted. +</p> + +<p> +Masapo reached me. He flung himself on his knees before me, gasping: +</p> + +<p> +“Save me, Macumazahn! I am innocent. Mameena, the witch! +Mameena—” +</p> + +<p> +He got no farther, for the slayers had leapt on him like hounds upon a buck and +dragged him from me. +</p> + +<p> +Then I turned and covered up my eyes. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Next morning I left Nodwengu without saying good-bye to anyone, for what had +happened there made me desire a change. My servant, Scowl, and one of my +hunters remained, however, to collect some cattle that were still due to me. +</p> + +<p> +A month or more later, when they joined me in Natal, bringing the cattle, they +told me that Mameena, the widow of Masapo, had entered the house of Saduko as +his second wife. In answer to a question which I put to them, they added that +it was said that the Princess Nandie did not approve of this choice of Saduko, +which she thought would not be fortunate for him or bring him happiness. As her +husband seemed to be much enamoured of Mameena, however, she had waived her +objections, and when Panda asked if she gave her consent had told him that, +although she would prefer that Saduko should choose some other woman who had +not been mixed up with the wizard who killed her child, she was prepared to +take Mameena as her sister, and would know how to keep her in her place. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>Chapter XI.<br /> +THE SIN OF UMBELAZI</h2> + +<p> +About eighteen months had gone by, and once again, in the autumn of the year +1856, I found myself at old Umbezi’s kraal, where there seemed to be an +extraordinary market for any kind of gas-pipe that could be called a gun. Well, +as a trader who could not afford to neglect profitable markets, which are hard +things to find, there I was. +</p> + +<p> +Now, in eighteen months many things become a little obscured in one’s +memory, especially if they have to do with savages, in whom, after all, one +takes only a philosophical and a business interest. Therefore I may perhaps be +excused if I had more or less forgotten a good many of the details of what I +may call the Mameena affair. These, however, came back to me very vividly when +the first person that I met—at some distance from the kraal, where I +suppose she had been taking a country walk—was the beautiful Mameena +herself. There she was, looking quite unchanged and as lovely as ever, sitting +under the shade of a wild fig-tree and fanning herself with a handful of its +leaves. +</p> + +<p> +Of course I jumped off my wagon-box and greeted her. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i> [that is, good morrow], Macumazahn,” she said. +“My heart is glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i>, Mameena,” I answered, leaving out all reference +to <i>my</i> heart. Then I added, looking at her: “Is it true that you +have a new husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Macumazahn, an old lover of mine has become a new husband. You know +whom I mean—Saduko. After the death of that evil-doer, Masapo, he grew +very urgent, and the King, also the <i>Inkosazana</i> Nandie, pressed it on me, +and so I yielded. Also, to be honest, Saduko was a good match, or seemed to be +so.” +</p> + +<p> +By now we were walking side by side, for the train of wagons had gone ahead to +the old outspan. So I stopped and looked her in the face. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Seemed to be,’” I repeated. “What do you mean +by ‘seemed to be’? Are you not happy this time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not altogether, Macumazahn,” she answered, with a shrug of her +shoulders. “Saduko is very fond of me—fonder than I like indeed, +since it causes him to neglect Nandie, who, by the way, has another son, and, +although she says little, that makes Nandie cross. In short,” she added, +with a burst of truth, “I am the plaything, Nandie is the great lady, and +that place suits me ill.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you love Saduko, you should not mind, Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +“Love,” she said bitterly. “<i>Piff!</i> What is love? But I +have asked you that question once before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why are you here, Mameena?” I inquired, leaving it unanswered. +</p> + +<p> +“Because Saduko is here, and, of course, Nandie, for she never leaves +him, and he will not leave me; because the Prince Umbelazi is coming; because +there are plots afoot and the great war draws near—that war in which so +many must die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Between Cetewayo and Umbelazi, Mameena?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, between Cetewayo and Umbelazi. Why do you suppose those wagons of +yours are loaded with guns for which so many cattle must be paid? Not to shoot +game with, I think. Well, this little kraal of my father’s is just now +the headquarters of the Umbelazi faction, the <i>Isigqosa</i>, as the princedom +of Gikazi is that of Cetewayo. My poor father!” she added, with her +characteristic shrug, “he thinks himself very great to-day, as he did +after he had shot the elephant—before I nursed you, Macumazahn—but +often I wonder what will be the end of it—for him and for all of us, +Macumazahn, including yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I!” I answered. “What have I to do with your Zulu +quarrels?” +</p> + +<p> +“That you will know when you have done with them, Macumazahn. But here is +the kraal, and before we enter it I wish to thank you for trying to protect +that unlucky husband of mine, Masapo.” +</p> + +<p> +“I only did so, Mameena, because I thought him innocent.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know, Macumazahn; and so did I, although, as I always told you, I +hated him, the man with whom my father forced me to marry. But I am afraid, +from what I have learned since, that he was not altogether innocent. You see, +Saduko had struck him, which he could not forget. Also, he was jealous of +Saduko, who had been my suitor, and wished to injure him. But what I do not +understand,” she added, with a burst of confidence, “is why he did +not kill Saduko instead of his child.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Mameena, you may remember it was said he tried to do so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Macumazahn; I had forgotten that. I suppose that he did try, and +failed. Oh, now I see things with both eyes. Look, yonder is my father. I will +go away. But come and talk to me sometimes, Macumazahn, for otherwise Nandie +will be careful that I should hear nothing—I who am the plaything, the +beautiful woman of the House, who must sit and smile, but must not +think.” +</p> + +<p> +So she departed, and I went on to meet old Umbezi, who came gambolling towards +me like an obese goat, reflecting that, whatever might be the truth or +otherwise of her story, her advancement in the world did not seem to have +brought Mameena greater happiness and contentment. +</p> + +<p> +Umbezi, who greeted me warmly, was in high spirits and full of importance. He +informed me that the marriage of Mameena to Saduko, after the death of the +wizard, her husband, whose tribe and cattle had been given to Saduko in +compensation for the loss of his son, was a most fortunate thing for him. +</p> + +<p> +I asked why. +</p> + +<p> +“Because as Saduko grows great so I, his father-in-law, grow great with +him, Macumazahn, especially as he has been liberal to me in the matter of +cattle, passing on to me a share of the herds of Masapo, so that I, who have +been poor so long, am getting rich at last. Moreover, my kraal is to be +honoured with a visit from Umbelazi and some of his brothers to-morrow, and +Saduko has promised to lift me up high when the Prince is declared heir to the +throne.” +</p> + +<p> +“Which prince?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Umbelazi, Macumazahn. Who else? Umbelazi, who without doubt will conquer +Cetewayo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why without doubt, Umbezi? Cetewayo has a great following, and if +<i>he</i> should conquer I think that you will only be lifted up in the crops +of the vultures.” +</p> + +<p> +At this rough suggestion Umbezi’s fat face fell. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” he said, “if I thought that, I would go over +to Cetewayo, although Saduko is my son-in-law. But it is not possible, since +the King loves Umbelazi’s mother most of all his wives, and, as I chance +to know, has sworn to her that he favours Umbelazi’s cause, since he is +the dearest to him of all his sons, and will do everything that he can to help +him, even to the sending of his own regiment to his assistance, if there should +be need. Also, it is said that Zikali, Opener-of-Roads, who has all wisdom, has +prophesied that Umbelazi will win more than he ever hoped for.” +</p> + +<p> +“The King!” I said, “a straw blown hither and thither between +two great winds, waiting to be wafted to rest by that which is strongest! The +prophecy of Zikali! It seems to me that it can be read two ways, if, indeed, he +ever made one. Well, Umbezi, I hope that you are right, for, although it is no +affair of mine, who am but a white trader in your country, I like Umbelazi +better than Cetewayo, and think that he has a kinder heart. Also, as you have +chosen his side, I advise you to stick to it, since traitors to a cause seldom +come to any good, whether it wins or loses. And now, will you take count of the +guns and powder which I have brought with me?” +</p> + +<p> +Ah! better would it have been for Umbezi if he had listened to my advice and +remained faithful to the leader he had chosen, for then, even if he had lost +his life, at least he would have kept his good name. But of him presently, as +they say in pedigrees. +</p> + +<p> +Next day I went to pay my respects to Nandie, whom I found engaged in nursing +her new baby and as quiet and stately in her demeanour as ever. Still, I think +that she was very glad to see me, because I had tried to save the life of her +first child, whom she could not forget, if for no other reason. Whilst I was +talking to her of that sad matter, also of the political state of the country, +as to which I think she wished to say something to me, Mameena entered the hut, +without waiting to be asked, and sat down, whereon Nandie became suddenly +silent. +</p> + +<p> +This, however, did not trouble Mameena, who talked away about anything and +everything, completely ignoring the head-wife. For a while Nandie bore it with +patience, but at length she took advantage of a pause in the conversation to +say in her firm, low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“This is my hut, daughter of Umbezi, a thing which you remember well +enough when it is a question whether Saduko, our husband, shall visit you or +me. Can you not remember it now when I would speak with the white chief, +Watcher-by-Night, who has been so good as to take the trouble to come to see +me?” +</p> + +<p> +On hearing these words Mameena leapt up in a rage, and I must say I never saw +her look more lovely. +</p> + +<p> +“You insult me, daughter of Panda, as you always try to do, because you +are jealous of me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your pardon, sister,” replied Nandie. “Why should I, who am +Saduko’s <i>Inkosikazi</i>, and, as you say, daughter of Panda, the King, +be jealous of the widow of the wizard, Masapo, and the daughter of the headman, +Umbezi, whom it has pleased our husband to take into his house to be the +companion of his leisure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why? Because you know that Saduko loves my little finger more than he +does your whole body, although you are of the King’s blood and have borne +him brats,” she answered, looking at the infant with no kindly eye. +</p> + +<p> +“It may be so, daughter of Umbezi, for men have their fancies, and +without doubt you are fair. Yet I would ask you one thing—if Saduko loves +you so much, how comes it he trusts you so little that you must learn any +matter of weight by listening at my door, as I found you doing the other +day?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because you teach him not to do so, O Nandie. Because you are ever +telling him not to consult with me, since she who has betrayed one husband may +betray another. Because you make him believe my place is that of his toy, not +that of his companion, and this although I am cleverer than you and all your +House tied into one bundle, as you may find out some day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” answered Nandie, quite undisturbed, “I do teach him +these things, and I am glad that in this matter Saduko has a thinking head and +listens to me. Also I agree that it is likely I shall learn many more ill +things through and of you one day, daughter of Umbezi. And now, as it is not +good that we should wrangle before this white lord, again I say to you that +this is my hut, in which I wish to speak alone with my guest.” +</p> + +<p> +“I go, I go!” gasped Mameena; “but I tell you that Saduko +shall hear of this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly he will hear of it, for I shall tell him when he comes +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Another instant and Mameena was gone, having shot out of the hut like a rabbit +from its burrow. +</p> + +<p> +“I ask your pardon, Macumazahn, for what has happened,” said +Nandie, “but it had become necessary that I should teach my sister, +Mameena, upon which stool she ought to sit. I do not trust her, Macumazahn. I +think that she knows more of the death of my child than she chooses to say, she +who wished to be rid of Masapo for a reason you can guess. I think also she +will bring shame and trouble upon Saduko, whom she has bewitched with her +beauty, as she bewitches all men—perhaps even yourself a little, +Macumazahn. And now let us talk of other matters.” +</p> + +<p> +To this proposition I agreed cordially, since, to tell the truth, if I could +have managed to do so with any decent grace, <i>I</i> should have been out of +that hut long before Mameena. So we fell to conversing on the condition of +Zululand and the dangers that lay ahead for all who were connected with the +royal House—a state of affairs which troubled Nandie much, for she was a +clear-headed woman, and one who feared the future. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Macumazahn,” she said to me as we parted, “I would that +I were the wife of some man who did not desire to grow great, and that no royal +blood ran in my veins.” +</p> + +<p> +On the next day the Prince Umbelazi arrived, and with him Saduko and a few +other notable men. They came quite quietly and without any ostensible escort, +although Scowl, my servant, told me he heard that the bush at a little distance +was swarming with soldiers of the <i>Isigqosa</i> party. If I remember rightly, +the excuse for the visit was that Umbezi had some of a certain rare breed of +white cattle whereof the prince wished to secure young bulls and heifers to +improve his herd. +</p> + +<p> +Once inside the kraal, however, Umbelazi, who was a very open-natured man, +threw off all pretence, and, after greeting me heartily enough, told me with +plainness that he was there because this was a convenient spot on which to +arrange the consolidation of his party. +</p> + +<p> +Almost every hour during the next two weeks messengers—many of whom were +chiefs disguised—came and went. I should have liked to follow their +example—that is, so far as their departure was concerned—for I felt +that I was being drawn into a very dangerous vortex. But, as a matter of fact, +I could not escape, since I was obliged to wait to receive payment for my +stuff, which, as usual, was made in cattle. +</p> + +<p> +Umbelazi talked with me a good deal at that time, impressing upon me how +friendly he was towards the English white men of Natal, as distinguished from +the Boers, and what good treatment he was prepared to promise to them, should +he ever attain to authority in Zululand. It was during one of the earliest of +these conversations, which, of course, I saw had an ultimate object, that he +met Mameena, I think, for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +We were walking together in a little natural glade of the bush that bordered +one side of the kraal, when, at the end of it, looking like some wood nymph of +classic fable in the light of the setting sun, appeared the lovely Mameena, +clothed only in her girdle of fur, her necklace of blue beads and some copper +ornaments, and carrying upon her head a gourd. +</p> + +<p> +Umbelazi noted her at once, and, ceasing his political talk, of which he was +obviously tired, asked me who that beautiful <i>intombi</i> (that is, girl) +might be. +</p> + +<p> +“She is not an <i>intombi</i>, Prince,” I answered. “She is a +widow who is again a wife, the second wife of your friend and councillor, +Saduko, and the daughter of your host, Umbezi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so, Macumazahn? Oh, then I have heard of her, though, as it +chances, I have never met her before. No wonder that my sister Nandie is +jealous, for she is beautiful indeed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” I answered, “she looks pretty against the red sky, +does she not?” +</p> + +<p> +By now we were drawing near to Mameena, and I greeted her, asking if she wanted +anything. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, Macumazahn,” she answered in her delicate, modest way, +for never did I know anyone who could seem quite so modest as Mameena, and with +a swift glance of her shy eyes at the tall and splendid Umbelazi, +“nothing. Only,” she added, “I was passing with the milk of +one of the few cows my father gave me, and saw you, and I thought that perhaps, +as the day has been so hot, you might like a drink of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, lifting the gourd from her head, she held it out to me. +</p> + +<p> +I thanked her, drank some—who could do less?—and returned it to +her, whereon she made as though she would hasten to depart. +</p> + +<p> +“May I not drink also, daughter of Umbezi?” asked Umbelazi, who +could scarcely take his eyes off her. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir, if you are a friend of Macumazahn,” she replied, +handing him the gourd. +</p> + +<p> +“I am that, Lady, and more than that, since I am a friend of your +husband, Saduko, also, as you will know when I tell you that my name is +Umbelazi.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it must be so,” she replied, “because of +your—of your stature. Let the Prince accept the offering of his servant, +who one day hopes to be his subject,” and, dropping upon her knee, she +held out the gourd to him. Over it I saw their eyes meet. He drank, and as he +handed back the vessel she said: +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince, may I be granted a word with you? I have that to tell which +you would perhaps do well to hear, since news sometimes reaches the ears of +humble women that escapes those of the men, our masters.” +</p> + +<p> +He bowed his head in assent, whereon, taking a hint which Mameena gave me with +her eyes, I muttered something about business and made myself scarce. I may add +that Mameena must have had a great deal to tell Umbelazi. Fully an hour and a +half had gone by before, by the light of the moon, from a point of vantage on +my wagon-box, whence, according to my custom, I was keeping a lookout on things +in general, I saw her slip back to the kraal silently as a snake, followed at a +little distance by the towering form of Umbelazi. +</p> + +<p> +Apparently Mameena continued to be the recipient of information which she found +it necessary to communicate in private to the prince. At any rate, on sundry +subsequent evenings the dullness of my vigil on the wagon-box was relieved by +the sight of her graceful figure gliding home from the kloof that Umbelazi +seemed to find a very suitable spot for reflection after sunset. On one of the +last of these occasions I remember that Nandie chanced to be with me, having +come to my wagon for some medicine for her baby. +</p> + +<p> +“What does it mean, Macumazahn?” she asked, when the pair had gone +by, as they thought unobserved, since we were standing where they could not see +us. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” I answered +sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither do I, Macumazahn; but without doubt we shall learn in time. If +the crocodile is patient and silent the buck always drops into its jaws at +last.” +</p> + +<p> +On the day after Nandie made this wise remark Saduko started on a mission, as I +understood, to win over several doubtful chiefs to the cause of +<i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i> (the Elephant-with-the-tuft-of-hair), as the +Prince Umbelazi was called among the Zulus, though not to his face. This +mission lasted ten days, and before it was concluded an important event +happened at Umbezi’s kraal. +</p> + +<p> +One evening Mameena came to me in a great rage, and said that she could bear +her present life no longer. Presuming on her rank and position as head-wife, +Nandie treated her like a servant—nay, like a little dog, to be beaten +with a stick. She wished that Nandie would die. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be very unlucky for you if she does,” I answered, +“for then, perhaps, Zikali will be summoned to look into the matter, as +he was before.” +</p> + +<p> +What was she to do, she went on, ignoring my remark. +</p> + +<p> +“Eat the porridge that you have made in your own pot, or break the +pot” (i.e. go away), I suggested. “There was no need for you to +marry Saduko, any more than there was for you to marry Masapo.” +</p> + +<p> +“How can you talk to me like that, Macumazahn,” she answered, +stamping her foot, “when you know well it is your fault if I married +anyone? <i>Piff!</i> I hate them all, and, since my father would only beat me +if I took my troubles to him, I will run off, and live in the wilderness alone +and become a witch-doctoress.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid you will find it very dull, Mameena,” I began in a +bantering tone, for, to tell the truth, I did not think it wise to show her too +much sympathy while she was so excited. +</p> + +<p> +Mameena never waited for the end of the sentence, but, sobbing out that I was +false and cruel, she turned and departed swiftly. Oh! little did I foresee how +and where we should meet again. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning I was awakened shortly after sunrise by Scowl, whom I had sent out +with another man the night before to look for a lost ox. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, have you found the ox?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Baas; but I did not waken you to tell you that. I have a message +for you, Baas, from Mameena, wife of Saduko, whom I met about four hours ago +upon the plain yonder.” +</p> + +<p> +I bade him set it out. +</p> + +<p> +“These were the words of Mameena, Baas: ‘Say to Macumazahn, your +master, that <i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i>, taking pity on my wrongs and loving +me with his heart, has offered to take me into his House and that I have +accepted his offer, since I think it better to become the <i>Inkosazana</i> of +the Zulus, as I shall one day, than to remain a servant in the house of Nandie. +Say to Macumazahn that when Saduko returns he is to tell him that this is all +his fault, since if he had kept Nandie in her place I would have died rather +than leave him. Let him say to Saduko also that, although from henceforth we +can be no more than friends, my heart is still tender towards him, and that by +day and by night I will strive to water his greatness, so that it may grow into +a tree that shall shade the land. Let Macumazahn bid him not to be angry with +me, since what I do I do for his good, as he would have found no happiness +while Nandie and I dwelt in one house. Above all, also let him not be angry +with the Prince, who loves him more than any man, and does but travel whither +the wind that I breathe blows him. Bid Macumazahn think of me kindly, as I +shall of him while my eyes are open.’” +</p> + +<p> +I listened to this amazing message in silence, then asked if Mameena was alone. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Baas; Umbelazi and some soldiers were with her, but they did not +hear her words, for she stepped aside to speak with me. Then she returned to +them, and they walked away swiftly, and were swallowed up in the night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, Sikauli,” I said. “Make me some coffee, and make +it strong.” +</p> + +<p> +I dressed and drank several cups of the coffee, all the while “thinking +with my head,” as the Zulus say. Then I walked up to the kraal to see +Umbezi, whom I found just coming out of his hut, yawning. +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you look so black upon this beautiful morning, Macumazahn?” +asked the genial old scamp. “Have you lost your best cow, or what?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, my friend,” I answered; “but you and another have lost +<i>your</i> best cow.” And word for word I repeated to him +Mameena’s message. When I had finished really I thought that Umbezi was +about to faint. +</p> + +<p> +“Curses be on the head of this Mameena!” he exclaimed. +“Surely some evil spirit must have been her father, not I, and well was +she called Child of Storm.<a href="#fn-11.1" name="fnref-11.1" id="fnref-11.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +What shall I do now, Macumazahn? Thanks be to my Spirit,” he added, with +an air of relief, “she is too far gone for me to try to catch her; also, +if I did, Umbelazi and his soldiers would kill me.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-11.1" id="fn-11.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-11.1">[1]</a> +That, if I have not said so already, was the meaning which the Zulus gave to +the word <i>Mameena</i>, although as I know the language I cannot get any such +interpretation out of the name, I believe that it was given to her, however, +because she was born just before a terrible tempest, when the wind wailing +round the hut made a sound like the word <i>Ma-mee-na</i>. —A. Q. +</p> + +<p> +“And what will Saduko do if you don’t?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, of course he will be angry, for no doubt he is fond of her. But, +after all, I am used to that. You remember how he went mad when she married +Masapo. At least, he cannot say that I made her run away with Umbelazi. After +all, it is a matter which they must settle between them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think it may mean great trouble,” I said, “at a time when +trouble is not needed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, why so, Macumazahn? My daughter did not get on with the Princess +Nandie—we could all see that—for they would scarcely speak to each +other. And if Saduko is fond of her—well, after all, there are other +beautiful women in Zululand. I know one or two of them myself whom I will +mention to Saduko—or rather to Nandie. Really, as things were, I am not +sure but that he is well rid of her.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what do you think of the matter as her father?” I asked, for I +wanted to see to what length his accommodating morality would stretch. +</p> + +<p> +“As her father—well, of course, Macumazahn, as her father I am +sorry, because it will mean talk, will it not, as the Masapo business did? +Still, there is this to be said for Mameena,” he added, with a +brightening face, “she always runs away up the tree, not down. When she +got rid of Masapo—I mean when Masapo was killed for his +witchcraft—she married Saduko, who was a bigger man—Saduko, whom +she would not marry when Masapo was the bigger man. And now, when she has got +rid of Saduko, she enters the hut of Umbelazi, who will one day be King of the +Zulus, the biggest man in all the world, which means that she will be the +biggest woman, for remember, Macumazahn, she will walk round and round that +great Umbelazi till whatever way he looks he will see her and no one else. Oh, +she will grow great, and carry up her poor old father in the blanket on her +back. Oh, the sun still shines behind the cloud, Macumazahn, so let us make the +best of the cloud, since we know that it will break out presently.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Umbezi; but other things besides the sun break out from clouds +sometimes—lightning, for instance; lightning which kills.” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak ill-omened words, Macumazahn; words that take away my +appetite, which is generally excellent at this hour. Well, if Mameena is bad it +is not my fault, for I brought her up to be good. After all,” he added +with an outburst of petulance, “why do you scold me when it is your +fault? If you had run away with the girl when you might have done so, there +would have been none of this trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not,” I answered; “only then I am sure I should have +been dead to-day, as I think that all who have to do with her will be ere long. +And now, Umbezi, I wish you a good breakfast.” +</p> + +<p> +On the following morning, Saduko returned and was told the news by Nandie, whom +I had carefully avoided. On this occasion, however, I was forced to be present, +as the person to whom the sinful Mameena had sent her farewell message. It was +a very painful experience, of which I do not remember all the details. For a +while after he learned the truth Saduko sat still as a stone, staring in front +of him, with a face that seemed to have become suddenly old. Then he turned +upon Umbezi, and in a few terrible words accused him of having arranged the +matter in order to advance his own fortunes at the price of his +daughter’s dishonour. Next, without listening to his +ex-father-in-law’s voluble explanations, he rose and said that he was +going away to kill Umbelazi, the evil-doer who had robbed him of the wife he +loved, with the connivance of all three of us, and by a sweep of his hand he +indicated Umbezi, the Princess Nandie and myself. +</p> + +<p> +This was more than I could stand, so I, too, rose and asked him what he meant, +adding in the irritation of the moment that if I had wished to rob him of his +beautiful Mameena, I thought I could have done so long ago—a remark that +staggered him a little. +</p> + +<p> +Then Nandie rose also, and spoke in her quiet voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko, my husband,” she said, “I, a Princess of the Zulu +House, married you who are not of royal blood because I loved you, and although +Panda the King and Umbelazi the Prince wished it, for no other reason +whatsoever. Well, I have been faithful to you through some trials, even when +you set the widow of a wizard—if, indeed, as I have reason to suspect, +she was not herself the wizard—before me, and although that wizard had +killed our son, lived in her hut rather than in mine. Now this woman of whom +you thought so much has deserted you for your friend and my brother, the Prince +Umbelazi—Umbelazi who is called the Handsome, and who, if the fortune of +war goes with him, as it may or may not, will succeed to Panda, my father. This +she has done because she alleges that I, your <i>Inkosikazi</i> and the +King’s daughter, treated her as a servant, which is a lie. I kept her in +her place, no more, who, if she could have had her will, would have ousted me +from mine, perhaps by death, for the wives of wizards learn their arts. On this +pretext she has left you; but that is not her real reason. She has left you +because the Prince, my brother, whom she has befooled with her tricks and +beauty, as she has befooled others, or tried to”—and she glanced at +me—“is a bigger man than you are. You, Saduko, may become great, as +my heart prays that you will, but my brother may become a king. She does not +love him any more than she loved you, but she does love the place that may be +his, and therefore hers—she who would be the first doe of the herd. My +husband, I think that you are well rid of Mameena, for I think also that if she +had stayed with us there would have been more deaths in our House; perhaps +mine, which would not matter, and perhaps yours, which would matter much. All +this I say to you, not from jealousy of one who is fairer than I, but because +it is the truth. Therefore my counsel to you is to let this business pass over +and keep silent. Above all, seek not to avenge yourself upon Umbelazi, since I +am sure that he has taken vengeance to dwell with him in his own hut. I have +spoken.” +</p> + +<p> +That this moderate and reasoned speech of Nandie’s produced a great +effect upon Saduko I could see, but at the time the only answer he made to it +was: +</p> + +<p> +“Let the name of Mameena be spoken no more within hearing of my ears. +Mameena is dead.” +</p> + +<p> +So her name was heard no more in the Houses of Saduko and of Umbezi, and when +it was necessary for any reason to refer to her, she was given a new name, a +composite Zulu word, <i>O-we-Zulu</i>, I think it was, which is +“Storm-child” shortly translated, for “Zulu” means a +storm as well as the sky. +</p> + +<p> +I do not think that Saduko spoke of her to me again until towards the climax of +this history, and certainly I did not mention her to him. But from that day +forward I noted that he was a changed man. His pride and open pleasure in his +great success, which had caused the Zulus to name him the +“Self-eater,” were no longer marked. He became cold and silent, +like a man who is thinking deeply, but who shutters his thoughts lest some +should read them through the windows of his eyes. Moreover, he paid a visit to +Zikali the Little and Wise, as I found out by accident; but what advice that +cunning old dwarf gave to him I did not find out—then. +</p> + +<p> +The only other event which happened in connection with this elopement was that +a message came from Umbelazi to Saduko, brought by one of the princes, a +brother of Umbelazi, who was of his party. As I know, for I heard it delivered, +it was a very humble message when the relative positions of the two men are +considered—that of one who knew that he had done wrong, and, if not +repentant, was heartily ashamed of himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko,” it said, “I have stolen a cow of yours, and I hope +you will forgive me, since that cow did not love the pasture in your kraal, but +in mine she grows fat and is content. Moreover, in return I will give you many +other cows. Everything that I have to give, I will give to you who are my +friend and trusted councillor. Send me word, O Saduko, that this wall which I +have built between us is broken down, since ere long you and I must stand +together in war.” +</p> + +<p> +To this message Saduko’s answer was: +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince, you are troubled about a very little thing. That cow which you +have taken was of no worth to me, for who wishes to keep a beast that is ever +tearing and lowing at the gates of the kraal, disturbing those who would sleep +inside with her noise? Had you asked her of me, I would have given her to you +freely. I thank you for your offer, but I need no more cows, especially if, +like this one, they have no calves. As for a wall between us, there is none, +for how can two men who, if the battle is to be won, must stand shoulder to +shoulder, fight if divided by a wall? O Son of the King, I am dreaming by day +and night of the battle and the victory, and I have forgotten all about the +barren cow that ran away after you, the great bull of the herd. Only do not be +surprised if one day you find that this cow has a sharp horn.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>Chapter XII.<br /> +PANDA’S PRAYER</h2> + +<p> +About six weeks later, in the month of November, 1856, I chanced to be at +Nodwengu when the quarrel between the princes came to a head. Although none of +the regiments was actually allowed to enter the town—that is, as a +regiment—the place was full of people, all of them in a state of great +excitement, who came in during the daytime and went to sleep in the +neighbouring military kraals at night. One evening, as some of these +soldiers—about a thousand of them, if I remember right—were +returning to the Ukubaza kraal, a fight occurred between them, which led to the +final outbreak. +</p> + +<p> +As it happened, at that time there were two separate regiments stationed at +this kraal. I think that they were the Imkulutshana and the Hlaba, one of which +favoured Cetewayo and the other Umbelazi. As certain companies of each of these +regiments marched along together in parallel lines, two of their captains got +into dispute on the eternal subject of the succession to the throne. From words +they came to blows, and the end of it was that he who favoured Umbelazi killed +him who favoured Cetewayo with his kerry. Thereon the comrades of the slain +man, raising a shout of “<i>Usutu</i>,” which became the war-cry of +Cetewayo’s party, fell upon the others, and a dreadful combat ensued. +Fortunately the soldiers were only armed with sticks, or the slaughter would +have been very great; but as it was, after an indecisive engagement, about +fifty men were killed and many more injured. +</p> + +<p> +Now, with my usual bad luck, I, who had gone out to shoot a few birds for the +pot—pauw, or bustard, I think they were—was returning across this +very plain to my old encampment in the kloof where Masapo had been executed, +and so ran into the fight just as it was beginning. I saw the captain killed +and the subsequent engagement. Indeed, as it happened, I did more. Not knowing +where to go or what to do, for I was quite alone, I pulled up my horse behind a +tree and waited till I could escape the horrors about me; for I can assure +anyone who may ever read these words that it is a very horrible sight to see a +thousand men engaged in fierce and deadly combat. In truth, the fact that they +had no spears, and could only batter each other to death with their heavy +kerries, made it worse, since the duels were more desperate and prolonged. +</p> + +<p> +Everywhere men were rolling on the ground, hitting at each other’s heads, +until at last some blow went home and one of them threw out his arms and lay +still, either dead or senseless. Well, there I sat watching all this shocking +business from the saddle of my trained shooting pony, which stood like a stone, +till presently I became aware of two great fellows rushing at me with their +eyes starting out of their heads and shouting as they came: +</p> + +<p> +“Kill Umbelazi’s white man! Kill! Kill!” +</p> + +<p> +Then, seeing that the matter was urgent and that it was a question of my life +or theirs, I came into action. +</p> + +<p> +In my hand I held a double-barrelled shotgun loaded with what we used to call +“loopers,” or B.B. shot, of which but a few went to each charge, +for I had hoped to meet with a small buck on my way to camp. So, as these +soldiers came, I lifted the gun and fired, the right barrel at one of them and +the left barrel at the other, aiming in each case at the centre of the small +dancing shields, which from force of habit they held stretched out to protect +their throats and breasts. At that distance, of course, the loopers sank +through the soft hide of the shields and deep into the bodies of those who +carried them, so that both of them dropped dead, the left-hand man being so +close that he fell against my pony, his uplifted kerry striking me upon the +thigh and bruising me. +</p> + +<p> +When I saw what I had done, and that my danger was over for the moment, without +waiting to reload I dug the spurs into my horse’s sides and galloped off +to Nodwengu, passing between the groups of struggling men. On arriving unharmed +at the town, I went instantly to the royal huts and demanded to see the King, +who sent word that I was to be admitted. On coming before him I told him +exactly what had happened—that I had killed two of Cetewayo’s men +in order to save my own life, and on that account submitted myself to his +justice. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana,” said Panda in great distress, “I know well +that you are not to blame, and already I have sent out a regiment to stop this +fighting, with command that those who caused it should be brought before me +to-morrow for judgment. I am glad indeed, Macumazahn, that you have escaped +without harm, but I must tell you that I fear henceforth your life will be in +danger, since all the <i>Usutu</i> party will hold it forfeit if they can catch +you. While you are in my town I can protect you, for I will set a strong guard +about your camp; but here you will have to stay until these troubles are done +with, since if you leave you may be murdered on the road.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you for your kindness, King,” I answered; “but all +this is very awkward for me, who hoped to trek for Natal to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there it is, Macumazahn, you will have to stay here unless you +wish to be killed. He who walks into a storm must put up with the +hailstones.” +</p> + +<p> +So it came about that once again Fate dragged me into the Zulu maelstrom. +</p> + +<p> +On the morrow I was summoned to the trial, half as a witness and half as one of +the offenders. Going to the head of the Nodwengu kraal, where Panda was sitting +in state with his Council, I found the whole great space in front of him +crowded with a dense concourse of fierce-faced partisans, those who favoured +Cetewayo—the <i>Usutu</i>—sitting on the right, and those who +favoured Umbelazi—the <i>Isigqosa</i>—sitting on the left. At the +head of the right-hand section sat Cetewayo, his brethren and chief men. At the +head of the left-hand section sat Umbelazi, his brethren and his chief men, +amongst whom I saw Saduko take a place immediately behind the Prince, so that +he could whisper into his ear. +</p> + +<p> +To myself and my little band of eight hunters, who by Panda’s express +permission, came armed with their guns, as I did also, for I was determined +that if the necessity arose we would sell our lives as dearly as we could, was +appointed a place almost in front of the King and between the two factions. +When everyone was seated the trial began, Panda demanding to know who had +caused the tumult of the previous night. +</p> + +<p> +I cannot set out what followed in all its details, for it would be too long; +also I have forgotten many of them. I remember, however, that Cetewayo’s +people said that Umbelazi’s men were the aggressors, and that +Umbelazi’s people said that Cetewayo’s men were the aggressors, and +that each of their parties backed up these statements, which were given at +great length, with loud shouts. +</p> + +<p> +“How am I to know the truth?” exclaimed Panda at last. +“Macumazahn, you were there; step forward and tell it to me.” +</p> + +<p> +So I stood out and told the King what I had seen, namely that the captain who +favoured Cetewayo had begun the quarrel by striking the captain who favoured +Umbelazi, but that in the end Umbelazi’s man had killed Cetewayo’s +man, after which the fighting commenced. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it would seem that the <i>Usutu</i> are to blame,” said +Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“Upon what grounds do you say so, my father?” asked Cetewayo, +springing up. “Upon the testimony of this white man, who is well known to +be the friend of Umbelazi and of his henchman Saduko, and who himself killed +two of those who called me chief in the course of the fight?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Cetewayo,” I broke in, “because I thought it better +that I should kill them than that they should kill me, whom they attacked quite +unprovoked.” +</p> + +<p> +“At any rate, you killed them, little White Man,” shouted Cetewayo, +“for which cause your blood is forfeit. Say, did Umbelazi give you leave +to appear before the King accompanied by men armed with guns, when we who are +his sons must come with sticks only? If so, let him protect you!” +</p> + +<p> +“That I will do if there is need!” exclaimed Umbelazi. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Prince,” I said; “but if there is need I will +protect myself as I did yesterday,” and, cocking my double-barrelled +rifle, I looked full at Cetewayo. +</p> + +<p> +“When you leave here, then at least I will come even with you, +Macumazahn!” threatened Cetewayo, spitting through his teeth, as was his +way when mad with passion. +</p> + +<p> +For he was beside himself, and wished to vent his temper on someone, although +in truth he and I were always good friends. +</p> + +<p> +“If so I shall stop where I am,” I answered coolly, “in the +shadow of the King, your father. Moreover, are you so lost in folly, Cetewayo, +that you should wish to bring the English about your ears? Know that if I am +killed you will be asked to give account of my blood.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” interrupted Panda, “and know that if anyone lays a +finger on Macumazana, who is my guest, he shall die, whether he be a common man +or a prince and my son. Also, Cetewayo, I fine you twenty head of cattle, to be +paid to Macumazana because of the unprovoked attack which your men made upon +him when he rightly slew them.” +</p> + +<p> +“The fine shall be paid, my father,” said Cetewayo more quietly, +for he saw that in threatening me he had pushed matters too far. +</p> + +<p> +Then, after some more talk, Panda gave judgment in the cause, which judgment +really amounted to nothing. As it was impossible to decide which party was most +to blame, he fined both an equal number of cattle, accompanying the fine with a +lecture on their ill-behaviour, which was listened to indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +After this matter was disposed of the real business of the meeting began. +</p> + +<p> +Rising to his feet, Cetewayo addressed Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“My father,” he said, “the land wanders and wanders in +darkness, and you alone can give light for its feet. I and my brother, +Umbelazi, are at variance, and the quarrel is a great one, namely, as to which +of us is to sit in your place when you are ‘gone down,’ when we +call and you do not answer. Some of the nation favour one of us and some favour +the other, but you, O King, and you alone, have the voice of judgment. Still, +before you speak, I and those who stand with me would bring this to your mind. +My mother, Umqumbazi, is your <i>Inkosikazi</i>, your head-wife, and therefore, +according to our law, I, her eldest son, should be your heir. Moreover, when +you fled to the Boers before the fall of him who sat in your place before you +[Dingaan], did not they, the white Amabunu, ask you which amongst your sons was +your heir, and did you not point me out to the white men? And thereon did not +the Amabunu clothe me in a dress of honour because I was the King to be? But +now of late the mother of Umbelazi has been whispering in your ear, as have +others”—and he looked at Saduko and some of Umbelazi’s +brethren—“and your face has grown cold towards me, so cold that +many say that you will point out Umbelazi to be King after you and stamp on my +name. If this is so, my father, tell me at once, that I may know what to +do.” +</p> + +<p> +Having finished this speech, which certainly did not lack force and dignity, +Cetewayo sat down again, awaiting the answer in sullen silence. But, making +none, Panda looked at Umbelazi, who, on rising, was greeted with a great cheer, +for although Cetewayo had the larger following in the land, especially among +the distant chiefs, the Zulus individually loved Umbelazi more, perhaps because +of his stature, beauty and kindly disposition—physical and moral +qualities that naturally appeal to a savage nation. +</p> + +<p> +“My father,” he said, “like my brother, Cetewayo, I await +your word. Whatever you may have said to the Amabunu in haste or fear, I do not +admit that Cetewayo was ever proclaimed your heir in the hearing of the Zulu +people. I say that my right to the succession is as good as his, and that it +lies with you, and you alone, to declare which of us shall put on the royal +kaross in days that my heart prays may be distant. Still, to save bloodshed, I +am willing to divide the land with Cetewayo” (here both Panda and +Cetewayo shook their heads and the audience roared “Nay”), +“or, if that does not please him, I am willing to meet Cetewayo man to +man and spear to spear and fight till one of us be slain.” +</p> + +<p> +“A safe offer!” sneered Cetewayo, “for is not my brother +named ‘Elephant,’ and the strongest warrior among the Zulus? No, I +will not set the fortunes of those who cling to me on the chance of a single +stab, or on the might of a man’s muscles. Decide, O father; say which of +the two of us is to sit at the head of your kraal after you have gone over to +the Spirits and are but an ancestor to be worshipped.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, Panda looked much disturbed, as was not wonderful, since, rushing out from +the fence behind which they had been listening, Umqumbazi, Cetewayo’s +mother, whispered into one of his ears, while Umbelazi’s mother whispered +into the other. What advice each of them gave I do not know, although obviously +it was not the same advice, since the poor man rolled his eyes first at one and +then at the other, and finally put his hands over his ears that he might hear +no more. +</p> + +<p> +“Choose, choose, O King!” shouted the audience. “Who is to +succeed you, Cetewayo or Umbelazi?” +</p> + +<p> +Watching Panda, I saw that he fell into a kind of agony; his fat sides heaved, +and, although the day was cold, sweat ran from his brow. +</p> + +<p> +“What would the white men do in such a case?” he said to me in a +hoarse, low voice, whereon I answered, looking at the ground and speaking so +that few could hear me: +</p> + +<p> +“I think, O King, that a white man would do nothing. He would say that +others might settle the matter after he was dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would that I could say so, too,” muttered Panda; “but it is +not possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Then followed a long pause, during which all were silent, for every man there +felt that the hour was big with doom. At length Panda rose with difficulty, +because of his unwieldy weight, and uttered these fateful words, that were none +the less ominous because of the homely idiom in which they were couched: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>When two young bulls quarrel they must fight it out.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly in one tremendous roar volleyed forth the royal salute of +<i>Bayéte</i>, a signal of the acceptance of the King’s word—the +word that meant civil war and the death of many thousands. +</p> + +<p> +Then Panda turned and, so feebly that I thought he would fall, walked through +the gateway behind him, followed by the rival queens. Each of these ladies +struggled to be first after him in the gate, thinking that it would be an omen +of success for her son. Finally, however, to the disappointment of the +multitude, they only succeeded in passing it side by side. +</p> + +<p> +When they had gone the great audience began to break up, the men of each party +marching away together as though by common consent, without offering any insult +or molestation to their adversaries. I think that this peaceable attitude +arose, however, from the knowledge that matters had now passed from the stage +of private quarrel into that of public war. It was felt that their dispute +awaited decision, not with sticks outside the Nodwengu kraal, but with spears +upon some great battlefield, for which they went to prepare. +</p> + +<p> +Within two days, except for those regiments which Panda kept to guard his +person, scarcely a soldier was to be seen in the neighbourhood of Nodwengu. The +princes also departed to muster their adherents, Cetewayo establishing himself +among the Mandhlakazi that he commanded, and Umbelazi returning to the kraal of +Umbezi, which happened to stand almost in the centre of that part of the nation +which adhered to him. +</p> + +<p> +Whether he took Mameena with him there I am not certain. I believe, however, +that, fearing lest her welcome at her birthplace should be warmer than she +wished, she settled herself at some retired and outlying kraal in the +neighbourhood, and there awaited the crisis of her fortune. At any rate, I saw +nothing of her, for she was careful to keep out of my way. +</p> + +<p> +With Umbelazi and Saduko, however, I did have an interview. Before they left +Nodwengu they called on me together, apparently on the best of terms, and said +in effect that they hoped for my support in the coming war. +</p> + +<p> +I answered that, however well I might like them personally, a Zulu civil war +was no affair of mine, and that, indeed, for every reason, including the +supreme one of my own safety, I had better get out of the way at once. +</p> + +<p> +They argued with me for a long while, making great offers and promises of +reward, till at length, when he saw that my determination could not be shaken, +Umbelazi said: +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Saduko, let us humble ourselves no more before this white man. +After all, he is right; the business is none of his, and why should we ask him +to risk his life in our quarrel, knowing as we do that white men are not like +us; they think a great deal of their lives. Farewell, Macumazahn. If I conquer +and grow great you will always be welcome in Zululand, whereas if I fail +perhaps you will be best over the Tugela river.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, I felt the hidden taunt in this speech very keenly. Still, being +determined that for once I would be wise and not allow my natural curiosity and +love of adventure to drag me into more risks and trouble, I replied: +</p> + +<p> +“The Prince says that I am not brave and love my life, and what he says +is true. I fear fighting, who by nature am a trader with the heart of a trader, +not a warrior with the heart of a warrior, like the great +<i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i>”—words at which I saw the grave Saduko +smile faintly. “So farewell to you, Prince, and may good fortune attend +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Of course, to call the Prince to his face by this nickname, which referred to a +defect in his person, was something of an insult; but I had been insulted, and +meant to give him “a Roland for his Oliver.” However, he took it in +good part. +</p> + +<p> +“What is good fortune, Macumazahn?” Umbelazi replied as he grasped +my hand. “Sometimes I think that to live and prosper is good fortune, and +sometimes I think that to die and sleep is good fortune, for in sleep there is +neither hunger nor thirst of body or of spirit. In sleep there come no cares; +in sleep ambitions are at rest; nor do those who look no more upon the sun +smart beneath the treacheries of false women or false friends. Should the +battle turn against me, Macumazahn, at least that good fortune will be mine, +for never will I live to be crushed beneath Cetewayo’s heel.” +</p> + +<p> +Then he went. Saduko accompanied him for a little way, but, making some excuse +to the Prince, came back and said to me: +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn, my friend, I dare say that we part for the last time, and +therefore I make a request to you. It is as to one who is dead to me. +Macumazahn, I believe that Umbelazi the thief”—these words broke +from his lips with a hiss—“has given her many cattle and hidden her +away either in the kloof of Zikali the Wise, or near to it, under his care. +Now, if the war should go against Umbelazi and I should be killed in it, I +think evil will fall upon that woman’s head, I who have grown sure that +it was she who was the wizard and not Masapo the Boar. Also, as one connected +with Umbelazi, who has helped him in his plots, she will be killed if she is +caught. Macumazahn, hearken to me. I will tell you the truth. My heart is still +on fire for that woman. She has bewitched me; her eyes haunt my sleep and I +hear her voice in the wind. She is more to me than all the earth and all the +sky, and although she has wronged me I do not wish that harm should come to +her. Macumazahn, I pray you if I die, do your best to befriend her, even though +it be only as a servant in your house, for I think that she cares more for you +than for anyone, who only ran away with him”—and he pointed in the +direction that Umbelazi had taken—“because he is a prince, who, in +her folly, she believes will be a king. At least take her to Natal, Macumazahn, +where, if you wish to be free of her, she can marry whom she will and will live +safe until night comes. Panda loves you much, and, whoever conquers in the war, +will give you her life if you ask it of him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then this strange man drew the back of his hand across his eyes, from which I +saw the tears were running, and, muttering, “If you would have good +fortune remember my prayer,” turned and left me before I could answer a +single word. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I sat down upon an ant-heap and whistled a whole hymn tune that my +mother had taught me before I could think at all. To be left the guardian of +Mameena! Talk of a “<i>damnosa hereditas</i>,” a terrible and +mischievous inheritance—why, this was the worst that ever I heard of. A +servant in my house indeed, knowing what <i>I</i> did about her! Why, I had +sooner share the “good fortune” which Umbelazi anticipated beneath +the sod. However, that was not in the question, and without it the alternative +of acting as her guardian was bad enough, though I comforted myself with the +reflection that the circumstances in which this would become necessary might +never arise. For, alas! I was sure that if they did arise I should have to live +up to them. True, I had made no promise to Saduko with my lips, but I felt, as +I knew he felt, that this promise had passed from my heart to his. +</p> + +<p> +“That thief Umbelazi!” Strange words to be uttered by a great +vassal of his lord, and both of them about to enter upon a desperate +enterprise. “A prince whom in her folly she believes will be a +king.” Stranger words still. Then Saduko did not believe that he +<i>would</i> be a king! And yet he was about to share the fortunes of his fight +for the throne, he who said that his heart was still on fire for the woman whom +“Umbelazi the thief” had stolen. Well, if I were Umbelazi, thought +I to myself, I would rather that Saduko were not my chief councillor and +general. But, thank Heaven! I was not Umbelazi, or Saduko, or any of them! And, +thank Heaven still more, I was going to begin my trek from Zululand on the +morrow! +</p> + +<p> +Man proposes but God disposes. I did not trek from Zululand for many a long +day. When I got back to my wagons it was to find that my oxen had mysteriously +disappeared from the veld on which they were accustomed to graze. They were +lost; or perhaps <i>they</i> had felt the urgent need of trekking from Zululand +back to a more peaceful country. I sent all the hunters I had with me to look +for them, only Scowl and I remaining at the wagons, which in those disturbed +times I did not like to leave unguarded. +</p> + +<p> +Four days went by, a week went by, and no sign of either hunters or oxen. Then +at last a message, which reached me in some roundabout fashion, to the effect +that the hunters had found the oxen a long way off, but on trying to return to +Nodwengu had been driven by some of the <i>Usutu</i>—that is, by +Cetewayo’s party—across the Tugela into Natal, whence they dared +not attempt to return. +</p> + +<p> +For once in my life I went into a rage and cursed that nondescript kind of +messenger, sent by I know not whom, in language that I think he will not +forget. Then, realising the futility of swearing at a mere tool, I went up to +the Great House and demanded an audience with Panda himself. Presently the +<i>inceku</i>, or household servant, to whom I gave my message, returned, +saying that I was to be admitted at once, and on entering the enclosure I found +the King sitting at the head of the kraal quite alone, except for a man who was +holding a large shield over him in order to keep off the sun. +</p> + +<p> +He greeted me warmly, and I told him my trouble about the oxen, whereon he sent +away the shield-holder, leaving us two together. +</p> + +<p> +“Watcher-by-Night,” he said, “why do you blame me for these +events, when you know that I am nobody in my own House? I say that I am a dead +man, whose sons fight for his inheritance. I cannot tell you for certain who it +was that drove away your oxen. Still, I am glad that they are gone, since I +believe that if you had attempted to trek to Natal just now you would have been +killed on the road by the <i>Usutu</i>, who believe you to be a councillor of +Umbelazi.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand, O King,” I answered, “and I dare say that the +accident of the loss of my oxen is fortunate for me. But tell me now, what am I +to do? I wish to follow the example of John Dunn [another white man in the +country who was much mixed up with Zulu politics] and leave the land. Will you +give me more oxen to draw my wagons?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have none that are broken in, Macumazahn, for, as you know, we Zulus +possess few wagons; and if I had I would not lend them to you, who do not +desire that your blood should be upon my head.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are hiding something from me, O King,” I said bluntly. +“What is it that you want me to do? Stay here at Nodwengu?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Macumazahn. When the trouble begins I want you to go with a regiment +of my own that I shall send to the assistance of my son, Umbelazi, so that he +may have the benefit of your wisdom. O Macumazana, I will tell you the truth. +My heart loves Umbelazi, and I fear me that he is overmatched by Cetewayo. If I +could I would save his life, but I know not how to do so, since I must not seem +to take sides too openly. But I can send down a regiment as your escort, if you +choose to go to view the battle as my agent and make report to me. Say, will +you not go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I go?” I answered, “seeing that whoever wins I +may be killed, and that if Cetewayo wins I shall certainly be killed, and all +for no reward.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Macumazahn; I will give orders that whoever conquers, the man that +dares to lift a spear against you shall die. In this matter, at least, I shall +not be disobeyed. Oh! I pray you, do not desert me in my trouble. Go down with +the regiment that I shall send and breathe your wisdom into the ear of my son, +Umbelazi. As for your reward, I swear to you by the head of the Black One +[Chaka] that it shall be great. I will see to it that you do not leave Zululand +empty-handed, Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +Still I hesitated, for I mistrusted me of this business. +</p> + +<p> +“O Watcher-by-Night,” exclaimed Panda, “you will not desert +me, will you? I am afraid for the son of my heart, Umbelazi, whom I love above +all my children; I am much afraid for Umbelazi,” and he burst into tears +before me. +</p> + +<p> +It was foolish, no doubt, but the sight of the old King weeping for his +best-beloved child, whom he believed to be doomed, moved me so much that I +forgot my caution. +</p> + +<p> +“If you wish it, O Panda,” I said, “I will go down to the +battle with your regiment and stand there by the side of the Prince +Umbelazi.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>Chapter XIII.<br /> +UMBELAZI THE FALLEN</h2> + +<p> +So I stayed on at Nodwengu, who, indeed, had no choice in the matter, and was +very wretched and ill at ease. The place was almost deserted, except for a +couple of regiments which were quartered there, the Sangqu and the Amawombe. +This latter was the royal regiment, a kind of Household Guards, to which the +Kings Chaka, Dingaan and Panda all belonged in turn. Most of the headmen had +taken one side or the other, and were away raising forces to fight for Cetewayo +or Umbelazi, and even the greater part of the women and children had gone to +hide themselves in the bush or among the mountains, since none knew what would +happen, or if the conquering army would not fall upon and destroy them. +</p> + +<p> +A few councillors, however, remained with Panda, among whom was old Maputa, the +general, who had once brought me the “message of the pills.” +Several times he visited me at night and told me the rumours that were flying +about. From these I gathered that some skirmishes had taken place and the +battle could not be long delayed; also that Umbelazi had chosen his fighting +ground, a plain near the banks of the Tugela. +</p> + +<p> +“Why has he done this,” I asked, “seeing that then he will +have a broad river behind him, and if he is defeated water can kill as well as +spears?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know not for certain,” answered Maputa; “but it is said +because of a dream that Saduko, his general, has dreamed thrice, which dream +declares that there and there alone Umbelazi will find honour. At any rate, he +has chosen this place; and I am told that all the women and children of his +army, by thousands, are hidden in the bush along the banks of the river, so +that they may fly into Natal if there is need.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have they wings,” I asked, “wherewith to fly over the Tugela +‘in wrath,’ as it well may be after the rains? Oh, surely his +Spirit has turned from Umbelazi!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, Macumazahn,” he answered, “I, too, think that +<i>ufulatewe idhlozi</i> [that is, his own Spirit] has turned its back on him. +Also I think that Saduko is no good councillor. Indeed, were I the +prince,” added the old fellow shrewdly, “I would not keep him whose +wife I had stolen as the whisperer in my ear.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor I, Maputa,” I answered as I bade him good-bye. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later, early in the morning, Maputa came to me again and said that +Panda wished to see me. I went to the head of the kraal, where I found the King +seated and before him the captains of the royal Amawombe regiment. +</p> + +<p> +“Watcher-by-Night,” he said, “I have news that the great +battle between my sons will take place within a few days. Therefore I am +sending down this, my own royal regiment, under the command of Maputa the +skilled in war to spy out the battle, and I pray that you will go with it, that +you may give to the General Maputa and to the captains the help of your wisdom. +Now these are my orders to you, Maputa, and to you, O captains—that you +take no part in the fight unless you should see that the Elephant, my son +Umbelazi, is fallen into a pit, and that then you shall drag him out if you can +and save him alive. Now repeat my words to me.” +</p> + +<p> +So they repeated the words, speaking with one voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Your answer, O Macumazana,” he said when they had spoken. +</p> + +<p> +“O King, I have told you that I will go—though I do not like +war—and I will keep my promise,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +“Then make ready, Macumazahn, and be back here within an hour, for the +regiment marches ere noon.” +</p> + +<p> +So I went up to my wagons and handed them over to the care of some men whom +Panda had sent to take charge of them. Also Scowl and I saddled our horses, for +this faithful fellow insisted upon accompanying me, although I advised him to +stay behind, and got out our rifles and as much ammunition as we could possibly +need, and with them a few other necessaries. These things done, we rode back to +the gathering-place, taking farewell of the wagons with a sad heart, since I, +for one, never expected to see them again. +</p> + +<p> +As we went I saw that the regiment of the Amawombe, picked men every one of +them, all fifty years of age or over, nearly four thousand strong, was +marshalled on the dancing-ground, where they stood company by company. A +magnificent sight they were, with their white fighting-shields, their gleaming +spears, their otter-skin caps, their kilts and armlets of white bulls’ +tails, and the snowy egret plumes which they wore upon their brows. We rode to +the head of them, where I saw Maputa, and as I came they greeted me with a +cheer of welcome, for in those days a white man was a power in the land. +Moreover, as I have said, the Zulus knew and liked me well. Also the fact that +I was to watch, or perchance to fight with them, put a good heart into the +Amawombe. +</p> + +<p> +There we stood until the lads, several hundreds of them, who bore the mats and +cooking vessels and drove the cattle that were to be our commissariat, had +wended away in a long line. Then suddenly Panda appeared out of his hut, +accompanied by a few servants, and seemed to utter some kind of prayer, as he +did so throwing dust or powdered medicine towards us, though what this ceremony +meant I did not understand. +</p> + +<p> +When he had finished Maputa raised a spear, whereon the whole regiment, in +perfect time, shouted out the royal salute, <i>Bayéte</i>, with a sound like +that of thunder. Thrice they repeated this tremendous and impressive salute, +and then were silent. Again Maputa raised his spear, and all the four thousand +voices broke out into the <i>Ingoma</i>, or national chant, to which deep, +awe-inspiring music we began our march. As I do not think it has ever been +written down, I will quote the words. They ran thus: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Ba ya m’zonda,<br /> +Ba ya m’loyisa,<br /> +Izizwe zonke,<br /> +Ba zond’, Inkoosi.”<a href="#fn-13.1" name="fnref-13.1" id="fnref-13.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-13.1" id="fn-13.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-13.1">[1]</a> +Literally translated, this famous chant, now, I think, published for the first +time, which, I suppose, will never again pass the lips of a Zulu <i>impi</i>, +means:<br /> +<br /> +“They [<i>i.e</i>. the enemy] bear him [<i>i.e</i>. the King] +hatred,<br /> +They call down curses on his head,<br /> +All of them throughout this land<br /> +Abhor our King.”<br /> +<br /> +The <i>Ingoma</i> when sung by twenty or thirty thousand men rushing down to +battle must, indeed, have been a song to hear.—E<small>DITOR</small>.] +</p> + +<p> +The <i>spirit</i> of this fierce <i>Ingoma</i>, conveyed by sound, gesture and +inflection of voice, not the exact <i>words</i>, remember, which are very rude +and simple, leaving much to the imagination, may perhaps be rendered somewhat +as follows. An exact translation into English verse is almost +impossible—at any rate, to me: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“Loud on their lips is lying,<br /> +    Red are their eyes with hate;<br /> +Rebels their King defying.<br /> +    Lo! where our impis wait<br /> +There shall be dead and dying,<br /> +    Vengeance insatiate!” +</p> + +<p> +It was early on the morning of the 2nd of December, a cold, miserable morning +that came with wind and driving mist, that I found myself with the Amawombe at +the place known as Endondakusuka, a plain with some kopjes in it that lies +within six miles of the Natal border, from which it is separated by the Tugela +river. +</p> + +<p> +As the orders of the Amawombe were to keep out of the fray if that were +possible, we had taken up a position about a mile to the right of what proved +to be the actual battlefield, choosing as our camping ground a rising knoll +that looked like a huge tumulus, and was fronted at a distance of about five +hundred yards by another smaller knoll. Behind us stretched bushland, or rather +broken land, where mimosa thorns grew in scattered groups, sloping down to the +banks of the Tugela about four miles away. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after dawn I was roused from the place where I slept, wrapped up in +some blankets, under a mimosa tree—for, of course, we had no +tents—by a messenger, who said that the Prince Umbelazi and the white +man, John Dunn, wished to see me. I rose and tidied myself as best I could, +since, if I can avoid it, I never like to appear before natives in a +dishevelled condition. I remember that I had just finished brushing my hair +when Umbelazi arrived. +</p> + +<p> +I can see him now, looking a veritable giant in that morning mist. Indeed, +there was something quite unearthly about his appearance as he arose out of +those rolling vapours, such light as there was being concentrated upon the +blade of his big spear, which was well known as the broadest carried by any +warrior in Zululand, and a copper torque he wore about his throat. +</p> + +<p> +There he stood, rolling his eyes and hugging his kaross around him because of +the cold, and something in his anxious, indeterminate expression told me at +once that he knew himself to be a man in terrible danger. Just behind him, dark +and brooding, his arms folded on his breast, his eyes fixed upon the ground, +looking, to my moved imagination, like an evil genius, stood the stately and +graceful Saduko. On his left was a young and sturdy white man carrying a rifle +and smoking a pipe, whom I guessed to be John Dunn, a gentleman whom, as it +chanced, I had never met, while behind were a force of Natal Government Zulus, +clad in some kind of uniform and armed with guns, and with them a number of +natives, also from Natal—“kraal Kafirs,” who carried stabbing +assegais. One of these led John Dunn’s horse. +</p> + +<p> +Of those Government men there may have been thirty or forty, and of the +“kraal Kafirs” anything between two and three hundred. +</p> + +<p> +I shook Umbelazi’s hand and gave him good-day. +</p> + +<p> +“That is an ill day upon which no sun shines, O Macumazana,” he +answered—words that struck me as ominous. Then he introduced me to John +Dunn, who seemed glad to meet another white man. Next, not knowing what to say, +I asked the exact object of their visit, whereon Dunn began to talk. He said +that he had been sent over on the previous afternoon by Captain Walmsley, who +was an officer of the Natal Government stationed across the border, to try to +make peace between the Zulu factions, but that when he spoke of peace one of +Umbelazi’s brothers—I think it was Mantantashiya—had mocked +at him, saying that they were quite strong enough to cope with the +Usutu—that was Cetewayo’s party. Also, he added, that when he +suggested that the thousands of women and children and the cattle should be got +across the Tugela drift during the previous night into safety in Natal, +Mantantashiya would not listen, and Umbelazi being absent, seeking the aid of +the Natal Government, he could do nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Quem Deus vult perdere prius dementat</i>” [whom God wishes to +destroy, He first makes mad], quoted I to myself beneath my breath. This was +one of the Latin tags that my old father, who was a scholar, had taught me, and +at that moment it came back to my mind. But as I suspected that John Dunn knew +no Latin, I only said aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“What an infernal fool!” (We were talking in English.) +“Can’t you get Umbelazi to do it now?” (I meant, to send the +women and children across the river.) +</p> + +<p> +“I fear it is too late, Mr. Quatermain,” he answered. “The +<i>Usutu</i> are in sight. Look for yourself.” And he handed me a +telescope which he had with him. +</p> + +<p> +I climbed on to some rocks and scanned the plain in front of us, from which +just then a puff of wind rolled away the mist. It was black with advancing men! +As yet they were a considerable distance away—quite two miles, I should +think—and coming on very slowly in a great half-moon with thin horns and +a deep breast; but a ray from the sun glittered upon their countless spears. It +seemed to me that there must be quite twenty or thirty thousand of them in this +breast, which was in three divisions, commanded, as I learned afterwards, by +Cetewayo, Uzimela, and by a young Boer named Groening. +</p> + +<p> +“There they are, right enough,” I said, climbing down from my +rocks. “What are you going to do, Mr. Dunn?” +</p> + +<p> +“Obey orders and try to make peace, if I can find anyone to make peace +with; and if I can’t—well, fight, I suppose. And you, Mr. +Quatermain?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, obey orders and stop here, I suppose. Unless,” I added +doubtfully, “these Amawombe take the bit between their teeth and run away +with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“They’ll do that before nightfall, Mr. Quatermain, if I know +anything of the Zulus. Look here, why don’t you get on your horse and +come off with me? This is a queer place for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Because I promised not to,” I answered with a groan, for really, +as I looked at those savages round me, who were already fingering their spears +in a disagreeable fashion, and those other thousands of savages advancing +towards us, I felt such little courage as I possessed sinking into my boots. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, Mr. Quatermain, you know your own business best; but I hope +you will come out of it safely, that is all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Same to you,” I replied. +</p> + +<p> +Then John Dunn turned, and in my hearing asked Umbelazi what he knew of the +movements of the <i>Usutu</i> and of their plan of battle. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince replied, with a shrug of his shoulders: +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at present, Son of Mr. Dunn, but doubtless before the sun is +high I shall know much.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke a sudden gust of wind struck us, and tore the nodding ostrich plume +from its fastening on Umbelazi’s head-ring. Whilst a murmur of dismay +rose from all who saw what they considered this very ill-omened accident, away +it floated into the air, to fall gently to the ground at the feet of Saduko. He +stooped, picked it up, and reset it in its place, saying as he did so, with +that ready wit for which some Kafirs are remarkable: +</p> + +<p> +“So may I live, O Prince, to set the crown upon the head of Panda’s +favoured son!” +</p> + +<p> +This apt speech served to dispel the general gloom caused by the incident, for +those who heard it cheered, while Umbelazi thanked his captain with a nod and a +smile. Only I noted that Saduko did not mention the name of +“Panda’s favoured son” upon whose head he hoped to live to +set the crown. Now, Panda had many sons, and that day would show which of them +was favoured. +</p> + +<p> +A minute or two later John Dunn and his following departed, as he said, to try +to make peace with the advancing <i>Usutu</i>. Umbelazi, Saduko and their +escort departed also towards the main body of the host of the <i>Isigqosa</i>, +which was massed to our left, “sitting on their spears,” as the +natives say, and awaiting the attack. As for me, I remained alone with the +Amawombe, drinking some coffee that Scowl had brewed for me, and forcing myself +to swallow food. +</p> + +<p> +I can say honestly that I do not ever remember partaking of a more unhappy +meal. Not only did I believe that I was looking on the last sun I should ever +see—though by the way, there was uncommonly little of that orb +visible—but what made the matter worse was that, if so, I should be +called upon to die alone among savages, with not a single white face near to +comfort me. Oh, how I wished I had never allowed myself to be dragged into this +dreadful business. Yes, and I was even mean enough to wish that I had broken my +word to Panda and gone off with John Dunn when he invited me, although now I +thank goodness that I did not yield to that temptation and thereby sacrifice my +self-respect. +</p> + +<p> +Soon, however, things grew so exciting that I forgot these and other melancholy +reflections in watching the development of events from the summit of our +tumulus-like knoll, whence I had a magnificent view of the whole battle. Here, +after seeing that his regiment made a full meal, as a good general should, old +Maputa joined me, whom I asked whether he thought there would be any fighting +for him that day. +</p> + +<p> +“I think so, I think so,” he answered cheerfully. “It seems +to me that the <i>Usutu</i> greatly outnumber Umbelazi and the <i>Isigqosa</i>, +and, of course, as you know, Panda’s orders are that if he is in danger +we must help him. Oh, keep a good heart, Macumazahn, for I believe I can +promise you that you will see our spears grow red to-day. You will not go +hungry from this battle to tell the white people that the Amawombe are cowards +whom you could not flog into the fight. No, no, Macumazahn, my Spirit looks +towards me this morning, and I who am old and who thought that I should die at +length like a cow, shall see one more great fight—my twentieth, +Macumazahn; for I fought with this same Amawombe in all the Black One’s +big battles, and for Panda against Dingaan also.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps it will be your last,” I suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say, Macumazahn; but what does that matter if only I and the +royal regiment can make an end that shall be spoken of? Oh, cheer up, cheer up, +Macumazahn; your Spirit, too, looks towards you, as I promise that we all will +do when the shields meet; for know, Macumazahn, that we poor black soldiers +expect that you will show us how to fight this day, and, if need be, how to +fall hidden in a heap of the foe.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” I replied, “so this is what you Zulus mean by the +‘giving of counsel,’ is it?—you infernal, bloodthirsty old +scoundrel,” I added in English. +</p> + +<p> +But I think Maputa never heard me. At any rate, he only seized my arm and +pointed in front, a little to the left, where the horn of the great +<i>Usutu</i> army was coming up fast, a long, thin line alive with twinkling +spears; their moving arms and legs causing them to look like spiders, of which +the bodies were formed by the great war shields. +</p> + +<p> +“See their plan?” he said. “They would close on Umbelazi and +gore him with their horns and then charge with their head. The horn will pass +between us and the right flank of the <i>Isigqosa</i>. Oh! awake, awake, +Elephant! Are you asleep with Mameena in a hut? Unloose your spears, Child of +the King, and at them as they mount the slope. Behold!” he went on, +“it is the Son of Dunn that begins the battle! Did I not tell you that we +must look to the white men to show us the way? Peep through your tube, +Macumazahn, and tell me what passes.” +</p> + +<p> +So I “peeped,” and, the telescope which John Dunn had kindly left +with me being good though small, saw everything clearly enough. He rode up +almost to the point of the left horn of the <i>Usutu</i>, waving a white +handkerchief and followed by his small force of police and Natal Kafirs. Then +from somewhere among the <i>Usutu</i> rose a puff of smoke. Dunn had been fired +at. +</p> + +<p> +He dropped the handkerchief and leapt to the ground. Now he and his police were +firing rapidly in reply, and men fell fast among the <i>Usutu</i>. They raised +their war shout and came on, though slowly, for they feared the bullets. Step +by step John Dunn and his people were thrust back, fighting gallantly against +overwhelming odds. They were level with us, not a quarter of a mile to our +left. They were pushed past us. They vanished among the bush behind us, and a +long while passed before ever I heard what became of them, for we met no more +that day. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the horns having done their work and wrapped themselves round +Umbelazi’s army as the nippers of a wasp close about a fly (why did not +Umbelazi cut off those horns, I wondered), the <i>Usutu</i> bull began his +charge. Twenty or thirty thousand strong, regiment after regiment, +Cetewayo’s men rushed up the slope, and there, near the crest of it, were +met by Umbelazi’s regiments springing forward to repel the onslaught and +shouting their battle-cry of “<i>Laba! Laba! Laba! Laba!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The noise of their meeting shields came to our ears like that of the roll of +thunder, and the sheen of their stabbing-spears shone as shines the broad +summer lightning. They hung and wavered on the slope; then from the Amawombe +ranks rose a roar of +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Umbelazi wins!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Watching intently, we saw the <i>Usutu</i> giving back. Down the slope they +went, leaving the ground in front of them covered with black spots which we +knew to be dead or wounded men. +</p> + +<p> +“Why does not the Elephant charge home?” said Maputa in a perplexed +voice. “The <i>Usutu</i> bull is on his back! Why does he not trample +him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because he is afraid, I suppose,” I answered, and went on +watching. +</p> + +<p> +There was plenty to see, as it happened. Finding that they were not pursued, +Cetewayo’s <i>impi</i> reformed swiftly at the bottom of the slope, in +preparation for another charge. Among that of Umbelazi, above them, rapid +movements took place of which I could not guess the meaning, which movements +were accompanied by much noise of angry shouting. Then suddenly, from the midst +of the <i>Isigqosa</i> army, emerged a great body of men, thousands strong, +which ran swiftly, but in open order, down the slope towards the <i>Usutu</i>, +holding their spears reversed. At first I thought that they were charging +independently, till I saw the <i>Usutu</i> ranks open to receive them with a +shout of welcome. +</p> + +<p> +“Treachery!” I said. “Who is it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko, with the Amakoba and Amangwane soldiers and others. I know them +by their head-dresses,” answered Maputa in a cold voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that Saduko has gone over to Cetewayo with all his +following?” I asked excitedly. +</p> + +<p> +“What else, Macumazahn? Saduko is a traitor: Umbelazi is finished,” +and he passed his hand swiftly across his mouth—a gesture that has only +one meaning among the Zulus. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, I sat down upon a stone and groaned, for now I understood +everything. +</p> + +<p> +Presently the <i>Usutu</i> raised fierce, triumphant shouts, and once again +their impi, swelled with Saduko’s power, began to advance up the slope. +Umbelazi, and those of the <i>Isigqosa</i> party who clung to him—now, I +should judge, not more than eight thousand men—never stayed to wait the +onslaught. They broke! They fled in a hideous rout, crashing through the thin, +left horn of the <i>Usutu</i> by mere weight of numbers, and passing behind us +obliquely on their road to the banks of the Tugela. A messenger rushed up to +us, panting. +</p> + +<p> +“These are the words of Umbelazi,” he gasped. “O +Watcher-by-Night and O Maputa, <i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i> prays that you will +hold back the <i>Usutu</i>, as the King bade you do in case of need, and so +give to him and those who cling to him time to escape with the women and +children into Natal. His general, Saduko, has betrayed him, and gone over with +three regiments to Cetewayo, and therefore we can no longer stand against the +thousands of the <i>Usutu</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Go tell the prince that Macumazahn, Maputa, and the Amawombe regiment +will do their best,” answered Maputa calmly. “Still, this is our +advice to him, that he should cross the Tugela swiftly with the women and the +children, seeing that we are few and Cetewayo is many.” +</p> + +<p> +The messenger leapt away, but, as I heard afterwards, he never found Umbelazi, +since the poor man was killed within five hundred yards of where we stood. +</p> + +<p> +Then Maputa gave an order, and the Amawombe formed themselves into a triple +line, thirteen hundred men in the first line, thirteen hundred men in the +second line, and about a thousand in the third, behind whom were the carrier +boys, three or four hundred of them. The place assigned to me was in the exact +centre of the second line, where, being mounted on a horse, it was thought, as +I gathered, that I should serve as a convenient rallying-point. +</p> + +<p> +In this formation we advanced a few hundred yards to our left, evidently with +the object of interposing ourselves between the routed impi and the pursuing +<i>Usutu</i>, or, if the latter should elect to go round us, with that of +threatening their flank. Cetewayo’s generals did not leave us long in +doubt as to what they would do. The main body of their army bore away to the +right in pursuit of the flying foe, but three regiments, each of about two +thousand five hundred spears, halted. Five minutes passed perhaps while they +marshalled, with a distance of some six hundred yards between them. Each +regiment was in a triple line like our own. +</p> + +<p> +To me that seemed a very long five minutes, but, reflecting that it was +probably my last on earth, I tried to make the best of it in a fashion that can +be guessed. Strange to say, however, I found it impossible to keep my mind +fixed upon those matters with which it ought to have been filled. My eyes and +thoughts would roam. I looked at the ranks of the veteran Amawombe, and noted +that they were still and solemn as men about to die should be, although they +showed no sign of fear. Indeed, I saw some of those near me passing their +snuffboxes to each other. Two grey-haired men also, who evidently were old +friends, shook hands as people do who are parting before a journey, while two +others discussed in a low voice the possibility of our wiping out most of the +<i>Usutu</i> before we were wiped out ourselves. +</p> + +<p> +“It depends,” said one of them, “whether they attack us +regiment by regiment or all together, as they will do if they are wise.” +</p> + +<p> +Then an officer bade them be silent, and conversation ceased. Maputa passed +through the ranks giving orders to the captains. From a distance his withered +old body, with a fighting shield held in front of it, looked like that of a +huge black ant carrying something in its mouth. He came to where Scowl and I +sat upon our horses. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I see that you are ready, Macumazahn,” he said in a cheerful +voice. “I told you that you should not go away hungry, did I not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Maputa,” I said in remonstrance, “what is the use of this? +Umbelazi is defeated, you are not of his <i>impi</i>, why send all +these”—and I waved my hand—“down into the darkness? Why +not go to the river and try to save the women and children?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because we shall take many of those down into the darkness with us, +Macumazahn,” and he pointed to the dense masses of the <i>Usutu</i>. +“Yet,” he added, with a touch of compunction, “this is not +your quarrel. You and your servant have horses. Slip out, if you will, and +gallop hard to the lower drift. You may get away with your lives.” +</p> + +<p> +Then my white man’s pride came to my aid. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” I answered, “I will not run while others stay to +fight.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought you would, Macumazahn, who, I am sure, do not wish to +earn a new and ugly name. Well, neither will the Amawombe run to become a mock +among their people. The King’s orders were that we should try to help +Umbelazi, if the battle went against him. We obey the King’s orders by +dying where we stand. Macumazahn, do you think that you could hit that big +fellow who is shouting insults at us there? If so, I should be obliged to you, +as I dislike him very much,” and he showed me a captain who was +swaggering about in front of the lines of the first of the <i>Usutu</i> +regiments, about six hundred yards away. +</p> + +<p> +“I will try,” I answered, “but it’s a long shot.” +Dismounting, I climbed a pile of stones and, resting my rifle on the topmost of +them, took a very full sight, aimed, held my breath, and pressed the trigger. A +second afterwards the shouter of insults threw his arms wide, letting fall his +spear, and pitched forward on to his face. +</p> + +<p> +A roar of delight rose from the watching Amawombe, while old Maputa clapped his +thin brown hands and grinned from ear to ear. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Macumazahn. A very good omen! Now I am sure that, whatever +those <i>Isigqosa</i> dogs of Umbelazi’s may do, we King’s men +shall make an excellent end, which is all that we can hope. Oh, what a +beautiful shot! It will be something to think of when I am an <i>idhlozi</i>, a +spirit-snake, crawling about my own kraal. Farewell, Macumazahn,” and he +took my hand and pressed it. “The time has come. I go to lead the charge. +The Amawombe have orders to defend you to the last, for I wish you to see the +finish of this fight. Farewell.” +</p> + +<p> +Then off he hurried, followed by his orderlies and staff-officers. +</p> + +<p> +I never saw him again alive, though I think that once in after years I did meet +his <i>idhlozi</i> in his kraal under strange circumstances. But that has +nothing to do with this history. +</p> + +<p> +As for me, having reloaded, I mounted my horse again, being afraid lest, if I +went on shooting, I should miss and spoil my reputation. Besides, what was the +use of killing more men unless I was obliged? There were plenty ready to do +that. +</p> + +<p> +Another minute, and the regiment in front of us began to move, while the other +two behind it ostentatiously sat themselves down in their ranks, to show that +they did not mean to spoil sport. The fight was to begin with a duel between +about six thousand men. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” muttered the warrior who was nearest me. “They are in +our bag.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye,” answered another, “those little boys” (used as a +term of contempt) “are going to learn their last lesson.” +</p> + +<p> +For a few seconds there was silence, while the long ranks leant forward between +the hedges of lean and cruel spears. A whisper went down the line; it sounded +like the noise of wind among trees, and was the signal to prepare. Next a +far-off voice shouted some word, which was repeated again and again by other +voices before and behind me. I became aware that we were moving, quite slowly +at first, then more quickly. Being lifted above the ranks upon my horse I could +see the whole advance, and the general aspect of it was that of a triple black +wave, each wave crowned with foam—the white plumes and shields of the +Amawombe were the foam—and alive with sparkles of light—their broad +spears were the light. +</p> + +<p> +We were charging now—and oh! the awful and glorious excitement of that +charge! Oh, the rush of the bending plumes and the dull thudding of eight +thousand feet! The <i>Usutu</i> came up the slope to meet us. In silence we +went, and in silence they came. We drew near to each other. Now we could see +their faces peering over the tops of their mottled shields, and now we could +see their fierce and rolling eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Then a roar—a rolling roar such as at that time I had never heard: the +thunder of the roar of the meeting shields—and a flash—a swift, +simultaneous flash, the flash of the lightning of the stabbing spears. Up went +the cry of: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Kill, Amawombe, kill!</i>” answered by another cry of: +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Toss, Usutu, toss!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +After that, what happened? Heaven knows alone—or at least I do not. But +in later years Mr. Osborn, afterwards the resident magistrate at Newcastle, in +Natal, who, being young and foolish in those days, had swum his horse over the +Tugela and hidden in a little kopje quite near to us in order to see the +battle, told me that it looked as though some huge breaker—that breaker +being the splendid Amawombe—rolling in towards the shore with the weight +of the ocean behind it, had suddenly struck a ridge of rock and, rearing itself +up, submerged and hidden it. +</p> + +<p> +At least, within three minutes that <i>Usutu</i> regiment was no more. We had +killed them every one, and from all along our lines rose a fierce hissing sound +of “<i>S’gee, S’gee</i>” (“Zhi” in the +Zulu) uttered as the spears went home in the bodies of the conquered. +</p> + +<p> +That regiment had gone, taking nearly a third of our number with it, for in +such a battle as this the wounded were as good as dead. Practically our first +line had vanished in a fray that did not last more than a few minutes. Before +it was well over the second <i>Usutu</i> regiment sprang up and charged. With a +yell of victory we rushed down the slope towards them. Again there was the roar +of the meeting shields, but this time the fight was more prolonged, and, being +in the front rank now, I had my share of it. I remember shooting two +<i>Usutu</i> who stabbed at me, after which my gun was wrenched from my hand. I +remember the mêlée swinging backwards and forwards, the groans of the wounded, +the shouts of victory and despair, and then Scowl’s voice saying: +</p> + +<p> +“We have beat them, Baas, but here come the others.” +</p> + +<p> +The third regiment was on our shattered lines. We closed up, we fought like +devils, even the bearer boys rushed into the fray. From all sides they poured +down upon us, for we had made a ring; every minute men died by hundreds, and, +though their numbers grew few, not one of the Amawombe yielded. I was fighting +with a spear now, though how it came into my hand I cannot remember for +certain. I think, however, I wrenched it from a man who rushed at me and was +stabbed before he could strike. I killed a captain with this spear, for as he +fell I recognised his face. It was that of one of Cetewayo’s companions +to whom I had sold some cloth at Nodwengu. The fallen were piled up quite thick +around me—we were using them as a breastwork, friend and foe together. I +saw Scowl’s horse rear into the air and fall. He slipped over its tail, +and next instant was fighting at my side, also with a spear, muttering Dutch +and English oaths as he struck. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Beetje varm!</i> [a little hot] <i>Beetje varm</i>, Baas!” I +heard him say. Then my horse screamed aloud and something hit me hard upon the +head—I suppose it was a thrown kerry—after which I remember nothing +for a while, except a sensation of passing through the air. +</p> + +<p> +I came to myself again, and found that I was still on the horse, which was +ambling forward across the veld at a rate of about eight miles an hour, and +that Scowl was clinging to my stirrup leather and running at my side. He was +covered with blood, so was the horse, and so was I. It may have been our own +blood, for all three were more or less wounded, or it may have been that of +others; I am sure I do not know, but we were a terrible sight. I pulled upon +the reins, and the horse stopped among some thorns. Scowl felt in the +saddlebags and found a large flask of Hollands gin and water—half gin and +half water—which he had placed there before the battle. He uncorked and +gave it to me. I took a long pull at the stuff, that tasted like veritable +nectar, then handed it to him, who did likewise. New life seemed to flow into +my veins. Whatever teetotallers may say, alcohol is good at such a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are the Amawombe?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“All dead by now, I think, Baas, as we should be had not your horse +bolted. <i>Wow!</i> but they made a great fight—one that will be told of! +They have carried those three regiments away upon their spears.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s good,” I said. “But where are we going?” +</p> + +<p> +“To Natal, I hope, Baas. I have had enough of the Zulus for the present. +The Tugela is not far away, and we will swim it. Come on, before our hurts grow +stiff.” +</p> + +<p> +So we went on, till presently we reached the crest of a rise of ground +overlooking the river, and there saw and heard dreadful things, for beneath us +those devilish <i>Usutu</i> were massacring the fugitives and the +camp-followers. These were being driven by the hundred to the edge of the +water, there to perish on the banks or in the stream, which was black with +drowned or drowning forms. +</p> + +<p> +And oh! the sounds! Well, these I will not attempt to describe. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep up stream,” I said shortly, and we struggled across a kind of +donga, where only a few wounded men were hidden, into a somewhat denser patch +of bush that had scarcely been entered by the flying <i>Isigqosa</i>, perhaps +because here the banks of the river were very steep and difficult; also, +between them its waters ran swiftly, for this was above the drift. +</p> + +<p> +For a while we went on in safety, then suddenly I heard a noise. A great man +plunged past me, breaking through the bush like a buffalo, and came to a halt +upon a rock which overhung the Tugela, for the floods had eaten away the soil +beneath. +</p> + +<p> +“Umbelazi!” said Scowl, and as he spoke we saw another man +following as a wild dog follows a buck. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko!” said Scowl. +</p> + +<p> +I rode on. I could not help riding on, although I knew it would be safer to +keep away. I reached the edge of that big rock. Saduko and Umbelazi were +fighting there. +</p> + +<p> +In ordinary circumstances, strong and active as he was, Saduko would have had +no chance against the most powerful Zulu living. But the prince was utterly +exhausted; his sides were going like a blacksmith’s bellows, or those of +a fat eland bull that has been galloped to a standstill. Moreover, he seemed to +me to be distraught with grief, and, lastly, he had no shield left, nothing but +an assegai. +</p> + +<p> +A stab from Saduko’s spear, which he partially parried, wounded him +slightly on the head, and cut loose the fillet of his ostrich plume, that same +plume which I had seen blown off in the morning, so that it fell to the ground. +Another stab pierced his right arm, making it helpless. He snatched the assegai +with his left hand, striving to continue the fight, and just at that moment we +came up. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing, Saduko?” I cried. “Does a dog bite his +own master?” +</p> + +<p> +He turned and stared at me; both of them stared at me. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, Macumazahn,” he answered in an icy voice, “sometimes +when it is starving and that full-fed master has snatched away its bone. Nay, +stand aside, Macumazahn” (for, although I was quite unarmed, I had +stepped between them), “lest you should share the fate of this +woman-thief.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not I, Saduko,” I cried, for this sight made me mad, “unless +you murder me.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Umbelazi spoke in a hollow voice, sobbing out his words: +</p> + +<p> +“I thank you, White Man, yet do as this snake bids you—this snake +that has lived in my kraal and fed out of my cup. Let him have his fill of +vengeance because of the woman who bewitched me—yes, because of the +sorceress who has brought me and thousands to the dust. Have you heard, +Macumazahn, of the great deed of this son of Matiwane? Have you heard that all +the while he was a traitor in the pay of Cetewayo, and that he went over, with +the regiments of his command, to the <i>Usutu</i> just when the battle hung +upon the turn? Come, Traitor, here is my heart—the heart that loved and +trusted you. Strike—strike hard!” +</p> + +<p> +“Out of the way, Macumazahn!” hissed Saduko. But I would not stir. +</p> + +<p> +He sprang at me, and, though I put up the best fight that I could in my injured +state, got his hands about my throat and began to choke me. Scowl ran to help +me, but his wound—for he was hurt—or his utter exhaustion took +effect on him. Or perhaps it was excitement. At any rate, he fell down in a +fit. I thought that all was over, when again I heard Umbelazi’s voice, +and felt Saduko’s grip loosen at my throat, and sat up. +</p> + +<p> +“Dog,” said the Prince, “where is your assegai?” And as +he spoke he threw it from him into the river beneath, for he had picked it up +while we struggled, but, as I noted, retained his own. “Now, dog, why do +I not kill you, as would have been easy but now? I will tell you. Because I +will not mix the blood of a traitor with my own. See!” He set the haft of +his broad spear upon the rock and bent forward over the blade. “You and +your witch-wife have brought me to nothing, O Saduko. My blood, and the blood +of all who clung to me, is on your head. Your name shall stink for ever in the +nostrils of all true men, and I whom you have betrayed—I, the Prince +Umbelazi—will haunt you while you live; yes, my spirit shall enter into +you, and when you die—ah! then we’ll meet again. Tell this tale to +the white men, Macumazahn, my friend, on whom be honour and blessings.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused, and I saw the tears gush from his eyes—tears mingled with +blood from the wound in his head. Then suddenly he uttered the battle-cry of +“<i>Laba! Laba!</i>” and let his weight fall upon the point of the +spear. +</p> + +<p> +It pierced him through and through. He fell on to his hands and knees. He +looked up at us—oh, the piteousness of that look!—and then rolled +sideways from the edge of the rock. +</p> + +<p> +A heavy splash, and that was the end of Umbelazi the Fallen—Umbelazi, +about whom Mameena had cast her net. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +A sad story in truth. Although it happened so many years ago I weep as I write +it—I weep as Umbelazi wept. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>Chapter XIV.<br /> +UMBEZI AND THE BLOOD ROYAL</h2> + +<p> +After this I think that some of the <i>Usutu</i> came up, for it seemed to me +that I heard Saduko say: +</p> + +<p> +“Touch not Macumazahn or his servant. They are my prisoners. He who harms +them dies, with all his House.” +</p> + +<p> +So they put me, fainting, on my horse, and Scowl they carried away upon a +shield. +</p> + +<p> +When I came to I found myself in a little cave, or rather beneath some +overhanging rocks, at the side of a kopje, and with me Scowl, who had recovered +from his fit, but seemed in a very bewildered condition. Indeed, neither then +nor afterwards did he remember anything of the death of Umbelazi, nor did I +ever tell him that tale. Like many others, he thought that the Prince had been +drowned in trying to swim the Tugela. +</p> + +<p> +“Are they going to kill us?” I asked of him, since, from the +triumphant shouting without, I knew that we must be in the midst of the +victorious <i>Usutu</i>. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, Baas,” he answered. “I hope not; after +we have gone through so much it would be a pity. Better to have died at the +beginning of the battle.” +</p> + +<p> +I nodded my head in assent, and just at that moment a Zulu, who had very +evidently been fighting, entered the place carrying a dish of toasted lumps of +beef and a gourd of water. +</p> + +<p> +“Cetewayo sends you these, Macumazahn,” he said, “and is +sorry that there is no milk or beer. When you have eaten a guard waits without +to escort you to him.” And he went. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” I said to Scowl, “if they were going to kill us, they +would scarcely take the trouble to feed us first. So let us keep up our hearts +and eat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who knows?” answered poor Scowl, as he crammed a lump of beef into +his big mouth. “Still, it is better to die on a full than on an empty +stomach.” +</p> + +<p> +So we ate and drank, and, as we were suffering more from exhaustion than from +our hurts, which were not really serious, our strength came back to us. As we +finished the last lump of meat, which, although it had been only half cooked +upon the point of an assegai, tasted very good, the Zulu put his head into the +mouth of the shelter and asked if we were ready. I nodded, and, supporting each +other, Scowl and I limped from the place. Outside were about fifty soldiers, +who greeted us with a shout that, although it was mixed with laughter at our +pitiable appearance, struck me as not altogether unfriendly. Amongst these men +was my horse, which stood with its head hanging down, looking very depressed. I +was helped on to its back, and, Scowl clinging to the stirrup leather, we were +led a distance of about a quarter of a mile to Cetewayo. +</p> + +<p> +We found him seated, in the full blaze of the evening sun, on the eastern slope +of one of the land-waves of the veld, with the open plain in front of him. It +was a strange and savage scene. There sat the victorious prince, surrounded by +his captains and <i>indunas</i>, while before him rushed the triumphant +regiments, shouting his titles in the most extravagant language. +<i>Izimbongi</i> also—that is, professional praisers—were running +up and down before him dressed in all sorts of finery, telling his deeds, +calling him “Eater-up-of-the-Earth,” and yelling out the names of +those great ones who had been killed in the battle. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile parties of bearers were coming up continually, carrying dead men of +distinction upon shields and laying them out in rows, as game is laid out at +the end of a day’s shooting in England. It seems that Cetewayo had taken +a fancy to see them, and, being too tired to walk over the field of battle, +ordered that this should be done. Among these, by the way, I saw the body of my +old friend, Maputa, the general of the Amawombe, and noted that it was +literally riddled with spear thrusts, every one of them in front; also that his +quaint face still wore a smile. +</p> + +<p> +At the head of these lines of corpses were laid six dead, all men of large +size, in whom I recognised the brothers of Umbelazi, who had fought on his +side, and the half-brothers of Cetewayo. Among them were those three princes +upon whom the dust had fallen when Zikali, the prophet, smelt out Masapo, the +husband of Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +Dismounting from my horse, with the help of Scowl, I limped through and over +the corpses of these fallen royalties, cut in the Zulu fashion to free their +spirits, which otherwise, as they believed, would haunt the slayers, and stood +in front of Cetewayo. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Siyakubona</i>, Macumazahn,” he said, stretching out his hand +to me, which I took, though I could not find it in my heart to wish <i>him</i> +“good day.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear that you were leading the Amawombe, whom my father, the King, +sent down to help Umbelazi, and I am very glad that you have escaped alive. +Also my heart is proud of the fight that they made, for you know, Macumazahn, +once, next to the King, I was general of that regiment, though afterwards we +quarrelled. Still, I am pleased that they did so well, and I have given orders +that every one of them who remains alive is to be spared, that they may be +officers of a new Amawombe which I shall raise. Do you know, Macumazahn, that +you have nearly wiped out three whole regiments of the <i>Usutu</i>, killing +many more people than did all my brother’s army, the <i>Isigqosa?</i> Oh, +you are a great man. Had it not been for the loyalty”—this word was +spoken with just a tinge of sarcasm—“of Saduko yonder, you would +have won the day for Umbelazi. Well, now that this quarrel is finished, if you +will stay with me I will make you general of a whole division of the +King’s army, since henceforth I shall have a voice in affairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are mistaken, O Son of Panda,” I answered; “the +splendour of the Amawombe’s great stand against a multitude is on the +name of Maputa, the King’s councillor and the <i>induna</i> of the Black +One [Chaka], who is gone. He lies yonder in his glory,” and I pointed to +Maputa’s pierced body. “I did but fight as a soldier in his +ranks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, we know that, we know all that, Macumazahn; and Maputa was a +clever monkey in his way, but we know also that you taught him how to jump. +Well, he is dead, and nearly all the Amawombe are dead, and of my three +regiments but a handful is left; the vultures have the rest of them. That is +all finished and forgotten, Macumazahn, though by good fortune the spears went +wide of you, who doubtless are a magician, since otherwise you and your servant +and your horse would not have escaped with a few scratches when everyone else +was killed. But you did escape, as you have done before in Zululand; and now +you see here lie certain men who were born of my father. Yet one is +missing—he against whom I fought, aye, and he whom, although we fought, I +loved the best of all of them. Now, it has been whispered in my ear that you +alone know what became of him, and, Macumazahn, I would learn whether he lives +or is dead; also, if he is dead, by whose hand he died, who would reward that +hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, I looked round me, wondering whether I should tell the truth or hold my +tongue, and as I looked my eyes met those of Saduko, who, cold and unconcerned, +was seated among the captains, but at a little distance from any of +them—a man apart; and I remembered that he and I alone knew the truth of +the end of Umbelazi. +</p> + +<p> +Why, I do not know, but it came into my mind that I would keep the secret. Why +should I tell the triumphant Cetewayo that Umbelazi had been driven to die by +his own hand; why should I lay bare Saduko’s victory and shame? All these +matters had passed into the court of a different tribunal. Who was I that I +should reveal them or judge the actors of this terrible drama? +</p> + +<p> +“O Cetewayo,” I said, “as it chanced I saw the end of +Umbelazi. No enemy killed him. He died of a broken heart upon a rock above the +river; and for the rest of the story go ask the Tugela into which he +fell.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Cetewayo hid his eyes with his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it so?” he said presently. “<i>Wow!</i> I say again that +had it not been for Saduko, the son of Matiwane, yonder, who had some quarrel +with <i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i> about a woman and took his chance of +vengeance, it might have been I who died of a broken heart upon a rock above +the river. Oh, Saduko, I owe you a great debt and will pay you well; but you +shall be no friend of mine, lest we also should chance to quarrel about a +woman, and <i>I</i> should find myself dying of a broken heart on a rock above +a river. O my brother Umbelazi, I mourn for you, my brother, for, after all, we +played together when we were little and loved each other once, who in the end +fought for a toy that is called a throne, since, as our father said, two bulls +cannot live in the same yard, my brother. Well, you are gone and I remain, yet +who knows but that at the last your lot may be happier than mine. You died of a +broken heart, Umbelazi, but of what shall <i>I</i> die, I wonder?”<a +href="#fn-14.1" name="fnref-14.1" id="fnref-14.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-14.1" id="fn-14.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-14.1">[1]</a> +That history of Cetewayo’s fall and tragic death and of Zikali’s +vengeance I hope to write one day, for in these events also I was destined to +play a part.—A. Q. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I have given this interview in detail, since it was because of it that the +saying went abroad that Umbelazi died of a broken heart. +</p> + +<p> +So in truth he did, for before his spear pierced it his heart was broken. +</p> + +<p> +Now, seeing that Cetewayo was in one of his soft moods, and that he seemed to +look upon me kindly, though I had fought against him, I reflected that this +would be a good opportunity to ask his leave to depart. To tell the truth, my +nerves were quite shattered with all I had gone through, and I longed to be +away from the sights and sounds of that terrible battlefield, on and about +which so many thousand people had perished this fateful day, as I had seldom +longed for anything before. But while I was making up my mind as to the best +way to approach him, something happened which caused me to lose my chance. +</p> + +<p> +Hearing a noise behind me, I looked round, to see a stout man arrayed in a very +fine war dress, and waving in one hand a gory spear and in the other a +head-plume of ostrich feathers, who was shouting out: +</p> + +<p> +“Give me audience of the son of the King! I have a song to sing to the +Prince. I have a tale to tell to the conqueror, Cetewayo.” +</p> + +<p> +I stared. I rubbed my eyes. It could not be—yes, it was—Umbezi, +“Eater-up-of-Elephants,” the father of Mameena. In a few seconds, +without waiting for leave to approach, he had bounded through the line of dead +princes, stopping to kick one of them on the head and address his poor clay in +some words of shameful insult, and was prancing about before Cetewayo, shouting +his praises. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is this <i>umfokazana?</i>” [that is, low fellow] growled the +Prince. “Bid him cease his noise and speak, lest he should be silent for +ever.” +</p> + +<p> +“O Calf of the Black Cow, I am Umbezi, +‘Eater-up-of-Elephants,’ chief captain of Saduko the Cunning, he +who won you the battle, father of Mameena the Beautiful, whom Saduko wed and +whom the dead dog, Umbelazi, stole away from him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” said Cetewayo, screwing up his eyes in a fashion he had when +he meant mischief, which among the Zulus caused him to be named the +“Bull-who-shuts-his-eyes-to-toss,” “and what have you to tell +me, ‘Eater-up-of-Elephants’ and father of Mameena, whom the dead +dog, Umbelazi, took away from your master, Saduko the Cunning?” +</p> + +<p> +“This, O Mighty One; this, O Shaker of the Earth, that well am I named +‘Eater-up-of-Elephants,’ who have eaten up +<i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i>—the Elephant himself.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Saduko seemed to awake from his brooding and started from his place; but +Cetewayo sharply bade him be silent, whereon Umbezi, the fool, noting nothing, +continued his tale. +</p> + +<p> +“O Prince, I met Umbelazi in the battle, and when he saw me he fled from +me; yes, his heart grew soft as water at the sight of me, the warrior whom he +had wronged, whose daughter he had stolen.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hear you,” said Cetewayo. “Umbelazi’s heart turned +to water at the sight of you because he had wronged you—you who until +this morning, when you deserted him with Saduko, were one of his jackals. Well, +and what happened then?” +</p> + +<p> +“He fled, O Lion with the Black Mane; he fled like the wind, and I, I +flew after him like—a stronger wind. Far into the bush he fled, till at +length he came to a rock above the river and was obliged to stand. Then there +we fought. He thrust at me, but I leapt over his spear <i>thus</i>,” and +he gambolled into the air. “He thrust at me again, but I bent myself +<i>thus</i>,” and he ducked his great head. “Then he grew tired and +my time came. He turned and ran round the rock, and I, I ran after him, +stabbing him through the back, <i>thus</i>, and <i>thus</i>, and <i>thus</i>, +till he fell, crying for mercy, and rolled off the rock into the river; and as +he rolled I snatched away his plume. See, is it not the plume of the dead dog +Umbelazi?” +</p> + +<p> +Cetewayo took the ornament and examined it, showing it to one or two of the +captains near him, who nodded their heads gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “this is the war plume of Umbelazi, beloved +of the King, strong and shining pillar of the Great House; we know it well, +that war plume at the sight of which many a knee has loosened. And so you +killed him, ‘Eater-up-of-Elephants,’ father of Mameena, you who +this morning were one of the meanest of his jackals. Now, what reward shall I +give you for this mighty deed, O Umbezi?” +</p> + +<p> +“A great reward, O Terrible One,” began Umbezi, but in an awful +voice Cetewayo bade him be silent. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “a great reward. Hearken, Jackal and Traitor. +Your own words bear witness against you. You, <i>you</i> have dared to lift +your hand against the blood-royal, and with your foul tongue to heap lies and +insults upon the name of the mighty dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, understanding at last, Umbezi began to babble excuses, yes, and to declare +that all his tale was false. His fat cheeks fell in, he sank to his knees. +</p> + +<p> +But Cetewayo only spat towards the man, after his fashion when enraged, and +looked round him till his eye fell upon Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko,” he said, “take away this slayer of the Prince, who +boasts that he is red with my own blood, and when he is dead cast him into the +river from that rock on which he says he stabbed Panda’s son.” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko looked round him wildly and hesitated. +</p> + +<p> +“Take him away,” thundered Cetewayo, “and return ere dark to +make report to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, at a sign from the Prince, soldiers flung themselves upon the miserable +Umbezi and dragged him thence, Saduko going with them; nor was the poor liar +ever seen again. As he passed by me he called to me, for Mameena’s sake, +to save him; but I could only shake my head and bethink me of the warning I had +once given to him as to the fate of traitors. +</p> + +<p> +It may be said that this story comes straight from the history of Saul and +David, but I can only answer that it happened. Circumstances that were not +unlike ended in a similar tragedy, that is all. What David’s exact +motives were, naturally I cannot tell; but it is easy to guess those of +Cetewayo, who, although he could make war upon his brother to secure the +throne, did not think it wise to let it go abroad that the royal blood might be +lightly spilt. Also, knowing that I was a witness of the Prince’s death, +he was well aware that Umbezi was but a boastful liar who hoped thus to +ingratiate himself with an all-powerful conqueror. +</p> + +<p> +Well, this tragic incident had its sequel. It seems—to his honour, be it +said—that Saduko refused to be the executioner of his father-in-law, +Umbezi; so those with him performed this office and brought him back a prisoner +to Cetewayo. +</p> + +<p> +When the Prince learned that his direct order, spoken in the accustomed and +fearful formula of “<i>Take him away</i>,” had been disobeyed, his +rage was, or seemed to be, great. My own conviction is that he was only seeking +a cause of quarrel against Saduko, who, he thought, was a very powerful man, +who would probably treat him, should opportunity arise, as he had treated +Umbelazi, and perhaps now that the most of Panda’s sons were dead, except +himself and the lads M’tonga, Sikota and M’kungo, who had fled into +Natal, might even in future days aspire to the throne as the husband of the +King’s daughter. Still, he was afraid or did not think it politic at once +to put out of his path this master of many legions, who had played so important +a part in the battle. Therefore he ordered him to be kept under guard and taken +back to Nodwengu, that the whole matter might be investigated by Panda the +King, who still ruled the land, though henceforth only in name. Also he refused +to allow me to depart into Natal, saying that I, too, must come to Nodwengu, as +there my testimony might be needed. +</p> + +<p> +So, having no choice, I went, it being fated that I should see the end of the +drama. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>Chapter XV.<br /> +MAMEENA CLAIMS THE KISS</h2> + +<p> +When I reached Nodwengu I was taken ill and laid up in my wagon for about a +fortnight. What my exact sickness was I do not know, for I had no doctor at +hand to tell me, as even the missionaries had fled the country. Fever resulting +from fatigue, exposure and excitement, and complicated with fearful +headache—caused, I presume, by the blow which I received in the +battle—were its principal symptoms. +</p> + +<p> +When I began to get better, Scowl and some Zulu friends who came to see me +informed me that the whole land was in a fearful state of disorder, and that +Umbelazi’s adherents, the <i>Isigqosa</i>, were still being hunted out +and killed. It seems that it was even suggested by some of the <i>Usutu</i> +that I should share their fate, but on this point Panda was firm. Indeed, he +appears to have said publicly that whoever lifted a spear against me, his +friend and guest, lifted it against him, and would be the cause of a new war. +So the <i>Usutu</i> left me alone, perhaps because they were satisfied with +fighting for a while, and thought it wisest to be content with what they had +won. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, they had won everything, for Cetewayo was now supreme—by right of +the assegai—and his father but a cipher. Although he remained the +“Head” of the nation, Cetewayo was publicly declared to be its +“Feet,” and strength was in these active “Feet,” not in +the bowed and sleeping “Head.” In fact, so little power was left to +Panda that he could not protect his own household. Thus one day I heard a great +tumult and shouting proceeding apparently from the <i>Isi-gohlo</i>, or royal +enclosure, and on inquiring what it was afterwards, was told that Cetewayo had +come from the Amangwe kraal and denounced Nomantshali, the King’s wife, +as <i>umtakati</i>, or a witch. More, in spite of his father’s prayers +and tears, he had caused her to be put to death before his eyes—a +dreadful and a savage deed. At this distance of time I cannot remember whether +Nomantshali was the mother of Umbelazi or of one of the other fallen princes.<a +href="#fn-15.1" name="fnref-15.1" id="fnref-15.1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-15.1" id="fn-15.1"></a> <a href="#fnref-15.1">[1]</a> +On re-reading this history it comes back to me that she was the mother of +M’tonga, who was much younger than Umbelazi. —A. Q. +</p> + +<p> +A few days later, when I was up and about again, although I had not ventured +into the kraal, Panda sent a messenger to me with a present of an ox. On his +behalf this man congratulated me on my recovery, and told me that, whatever +might have happened to others, I was to have no fear for my own safety. He +added that Cetewayo had sworn to the King that not a hair of my head should be +harmed, in these words: +</p> + +<p> +“Had I wished to kill Watcher-by-Night because he fought against me, I +could have done so down at Endondakusuka; but then I ought to kill you also, my +father, since you sent him thither against his will with your own regiment. But +I like him well, who is brave and who brought me good tidings that the Prince, +my enemy, was dead of a broken heart. Moreover, I wish to have no quarrel with +the White House [the English] on account of Macumazahn, so tell him that he may +sleep in peace.” +</p> + +<p> +The messenger said further that Saduko, the husband of the King’s +daughter, Nandie, and Umbelazi’s chief <i>induna</i>, was to be put upon +his trial on the morrow before the King and his council, together with Mameena, +daughter of Umbezi, and that my presence was desired at this trial. +</p> + +<p> +I asked what was the charge against them. He replied that, so far as Saduko was +concerned, there were two: first, that he had stirred up civil war in the land, +and, secondly, that having pushed on Umbelazi into a fight in which many +thousands perished, he had played the traitor, deserting him in the midst of +the battle, with all his following—a very heinous offence in the eyes of +Zulus, to whatever party they may belong. +</p> + +<p> +Against Mameena there were three counts of indictment. First, that it was she +who had poisoned Saduko’s child and others, not Masapo, her first +husband, who had suffered for that crime. Secondly, that she had deserted +Saduko, her second husband, and gone to live with another man, namely, the late +Prince Umbelazi. Thirdly, that she was a witch, who had enmeshed Umbelazi in +the web of her sorceries and thereby caused him to aspire to the succession to +the throne, to which he had no right, and made the <i>isililo</i>, or cry of +mourning for the dead, to be heard in every kraal in Zululand. +</p> + +<p> +“With three such pitfalls in her narrow path, Mameena will have to walk +carefully if she would escape them all,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>Inkoosi</i>, especially as the pitfalls are dug from side to +side of the path and have a pointed stake set at the bottom of each of them. +Oh, Mameena is already as good as dead, as she deserves to be, who without +doubt is the greatest <i>umtakati</i> north of the Tugela.” +</p> + +<p> +I sighed, for somehow I was sorry for Mameena, though why she should escape +when so many better people had perished because of her I did not know; and the +messenger went on: +</p> + +<p> +“The Black One [that is, Panda] sent me to tell Saduko that he would be +allowed to see you, Macumazahn, before the trial, if he wished, for he knew +that you had been a friend of his, and thought that you might be able to give +evidence in his favour.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did Saduko say to that?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He said that he thanked the King, but that it was not needful for him to +talk with Macumazahn, whose heart was white like his skin, and whose lips, if +they spoke at all, would tell neither more nor less than the truth. The +Princess Nandie, who is with him—for she will not leave him in his +trouble, as all others have done—on hearing these words of +Saduko’s, said that they were true, and that for this reason, although +you were her friend, she did not hold it necessary to see you either.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon this intimation I made no comment, but “my head thought,” as +the natives say, that Saduko’s real reason for not wishing to see me was +that he felt ashamed to do so, and Nandie’s that she feared to learn more +about her husband’s perfidies than she knew already. +</p> + +<p> +“With Mameena it is otherwise,” went on the messenger, “for +as soon as she was brought here with Zikali the Little and Wise, with whom, it +seems, she has been sheltering, and learned that you, Macumazahn, were at the +kraal, she asked leave to see you—” +</p> + +<p> +“And is it granted?” I broke in hurriedly, for I did not at all +wish for a private interview with Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, have no fear, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” replied the messenger with a +smile; “it is refused, because the King said that if once she saw you she +would bewitch you and bring trouble on you, as she does on all men. It is for +this reason that she is guarded by women only, no man being allowed to go near +to her, for on women her witcheries will not bite. Still, they say that she is +merry, and laughs and sings a great deal, declaring that her life has been dull +up at old Zikali’s, and that now she is going to a place as gay as the +veld in spring, after the first warm rain, where there will be plenty of men to +quarrel for her and make her great and happy. That is what she says, the witch +who knows perhaps what the Place of Spirits is like.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, as I made no remarks or suggestions, the messenger departed, saying that +he would return on the morrow to lead me to the place of trial. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning, after the cows had been milked and the cattle loosed from their +kraals, he came accordingly, with a guard of about thirty men, all of them +soldiers who had survived the great fight of the Amawombe. These warriors, some +of whom had wounds that were scarcely healed, saluted me with loud cries of +“<i>Inkoosi!</i>” and “<i>Baba</i>” as I stepped out of +the wagon, where I had spent a wretched night of unpleasant anticipation, +showing me that there were at least some Zulus with whom I remained popular. +Indeed, their delight at seeing me, whom they looked upon as a comrade and one +of the few survivors of the great adventure, was quite touching. As we went, +which we did slowly, their captain told me of their fears that I had been +killed with the others, and how rejoiced they were when they learned that I was +safe. He told me also that, after the third regiment had attacked them and +broken up their ring, a small body of them, from eighty to a hundred only, +managed to cut a way through and escape, running, not towards the Tugela, where +so many thousands had perished, but up to Nodwengu, where they reported +themselves to Panda as the only survivors of the Amawombe. +</p> + +<p> +“And are you safe now?” I asked of the captain. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes,” he answered. “You see, we were the King’s +men, not Umbelazi’s, so Cetewayo bears us no grudge. Indeed, he is +obliged to us, because we gave the <i>Usutu</i> their stomachs full of good +fighting, which is more than did those cows of Umbelazi’s. It is towards +Saduko that he bears a grudge, for you know, my father, one should never pull a +drowning man out of the stream—which is what Saduko did, for had it not +been for his treachery, Cetewayo would have sunk beneath the water of +Death—especially if it is only to spite a woman who hates him. Still, +perhaps Saduko will escape with his life, because he is Nandie’s husband, +and Cetewayo fears Nandie, his sister, if he does not love her. But here we +are, and those who have to watch the sky all day will be able to tell of the +evening weather” (in other words, those who live will learn). +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke we passed into the private enclosure of the <i>isi-gohlo</i>, +outside of which a great many people were gathered, shouting, talking and +quarrelling, for in those days all the usual discipline of the Great Place was +relaxed. Within the fence, however, that was strongly guarded on its exterior +side, were only about a score of councillors, the King, the Prince Cetewayo, +who sat upon his right, the Princess Nandie, Saduko’s wife, a few +attendants, two great, silent fellows armed with clubs, whom I guessed to be +executioners, and, seated in the shade in a corner, that ancient dwarf, Zikali, +though how he came to be there I did not know. +</p> + +<p> +Obviously the trial was to be quite a private affair, which accounted for the +unusual presence of the two “slayers.” Even my Amawombe guard was +left outside the gate, although I was significantly informed that if I chose to +call upon them they would hear me, which was another way of saying that in such +a small gathering I was absolutely safe. +</p> + +<p> +Walking forward boldly towards Panda, who, though he was as fat as ever, looked +very worn and much older than when I had last seen him, I made my bow, whereon +he took my hand and asked after my health. Then I shook Cetewayo’s hand +also, as I saw that it was stretched out to me. He seized the opportunity to +remark that he was told that I had suffered a knock on the head in some +scrimmage down by the Tugela, and he hoped that I felt no ill effects. I +answered: No, though I feared that there were a few others who had not been so +fortunate, especially those who had stumbled against the Amawombe regiment, +with whom I chanced to be travelling upon a peaceful mission of inquiry. +</p> + +<p> +It was a bold speech to make, but I was determined to give him a <i>quid pro +quo</i>, and, as a matter of fact, he took it in very good part, laughing +heartily at the joke. +</p> + +<p> +After this I saluted such of the councillors present as I knew, which was not +many, for most of my old friends were dead, and sat down upon the stool that +was placed for me not very far from the dwarf Zikali, who stared at me in a +stony fashion, as though he had never seen me before. +</p> + +<p> +There followed a pause. Then, at some sign from Panda, a side gate in the fence +was opened, and through it appeared Saduko, who walked proudly to the space in +front of the King, to whom he gave the salute of “<i>Bayéte</i>,” +and, at a sign, sat himself down upon the ground. Next, through the same gate, +to which she was conducted by some women, came Mameena, quite unchanged and, I +think, more beautiful than she had ever been. So lovely did she look, indeed, +in her cloak of grey fur, her necklet of blue beads, and the gleaming rings of +copper which she wore upon her wrists and ankles, that every eye was fixed upon +her as she glided gracefully forward to make her obeisance to Panda. +</p> + +<p> +This done, she turned and saw Nandie, to whom she also bowed, as she did so +inquiring after the health of her child. Without waiting for an answer, which +she knew would not be vouchsafed, she advanced to me and grasped my hand, which +she pressed warmly, saying how glad she was to see me safe after going through +so many dangers, though she thought I looked even thinner than I used to be. +</p> + +<p> +Only of Saduko, who was watching her with his intent and melancholy eyes, she +took no heed whatsoever. Indeed, for a while I thought that she could not have +seen him. Nor did she appear to recognise Cetewayo, although he stared at her +hard enough. But, as her glance fell upon the two executioners, I thought I saw +her shudder like a shaken reed. Then she sat down in the place appointed to +her, and the trial began. +</p> + +<p> +The case of Saduko was taken first. An officer learned in Zulu law—which +I can assure the reader is a very intricate and well-established law—I +suppose that he might be called a kind of attorney-general, rose and stated the +case against the prisoner. He told how Saduko, from a nobody, had been lifted +to a great place by the King and given his daughter, the Princess Nandie, in +marriage. Then he alleged that, as would be proved in evidence, the said Saduko +had urged on Umbelazi the Prince, to whose party he had attached himself, to +make war upon Cetewayo. This war having begun, at the great battle of +Endondakusuka, he had treacherously deserted Umbelazi, together with three +regiments under his command, and gone over to Cetewayo, thereby bringing +Umbelazi to defeat and death. +</p> + +<p> +This brief statement of the case for the prosecution being finished, Panda +asked Saduko whether he pleaded guilty or not guilty. +</p> + +<p> +“Guilty, O King,” he answered, and was silent. +</p> + +<p> +Then Panda asked him if he had anything to say in excuse of his conduct. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, O King, except that I was Umbelazi’s man, and when you, O +King, had given the word that he and the Prince yonder might fight, I, like +many others, some of whom are dead and some alive, worked for him with all my +ten fingers that he might have the victory.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then why did you desert my son the Prince in the battle?” asked +Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I saw that the Prince Cetewayo was the stronger bull and wished +to be on the winning side, as all men do—for no other reason,” +answered Saduko calmly. +</p> + +<p> +Now, everyone present stared, not excepting Cetewayo. Panda, who, like the rest +of us, had heard a very different tale, looked extremely puzzled, while Zikali, +in his corner, set up one of his great laughs. +</p> + +<p> +After a long pause, at length the King, as supreme judge, began to pass +sentence. At least, I suppose that was his intention, but before three words +had left his lips Nandie rose and said: +</p> + +<p> +“My Father, ere you speak that which cannot be unspoken, hear me. It is +well known that Saduko, my husband, was my brother Umbelazi’s general and +councillor, and if he is to be killed for clinging to the Prince, then I should +be killed also, and countless others in Zululand who still remain alive because +they were not in or escaped the battle. It is well known also, my Father, that +during that battle Saduko went over to my brother Cetewayo, though whether this +brought about the defeat of Umbelazi I cannot say. Why did he go over? He tells +you because he wished to be on the winning side. It is not true. He went over +in order to be revenged upon Umbelazi, who had taken from him yonder +witch”—and she pointed with her finger at +Mameena—“yonder witch, whom he loved and still loves, and whom even +now he would shield, even though to do so he must make his own name shameful. +Saduko sinned; I do not deny it, my Father, but there sits the real traitress, +red with the blood of Umbelazi and with that of thousands of others who have +‘<i>tshonile</i>’d’ [gone down to keep him company among the +ghosts]. Therefore, O King, I beseech you, spare the life of Saduko, my +husband, or, if he must die, learn that I, your daughter, will die with him. I +have spoken, O King.” +</p> + +<p> +And very proudly and quietly she sat herself down again, waiting for the +fateful words. +</p> + +<p> +But those words were not spoken, since Panda only said: “Let us try the +case of this woman, Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +Thereon the law officer rose again and set out the charges against Mameena, +namely, that it was she who had poisoned Saduko’s child, and not Masapo; +that, after marrying Saduko, she had deserted him and gone to live with the +Prince Umbelazi; and that finally she had bewitched the said Umbelazi and +caused him to make civil war in the land. +</p> + +<p> +“The second charge, if proved, namely, that this woman deserted her +husband for another man, is a crime of death,” broke in Panda abruptly as +the officer finished speaking; “therefore, what need is there to hear the +first and the third until that is examined. What do you plead to that charge, +woman?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, understanding that the King did not wish to stir up these other matters of +murder and witchcraft for some reason of his own, we all turned to hear +Mameena’s answer. +</p> + +<p> +“O King,” she said in her low, silvery voice, “I cannot deny +that I left Saduko for Umbelazi the Handsome, any more than Saduko can deny +that he left Umbelazi the beaten for Cetewayo the conqueror.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you leave Saduko?” asked Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“O King, perhaps because I loved Umbelazi; for was he not called the +Handsome? Also <i>you</i> know that the Prince, your son, was one to be +loved.” Here she paused, looking at poor Panda, who winced. “Or, +perhaps, because I wished to be great; for was he not of the Blood Royal, and, +had it not been for Saduko, would he not one day have been a king? Or, perhaps, +because I could no longer bear the treatment that the Princess Nandie dealt out +to me; she who was cruel to me and threatened to beat me, because Saduko loved +my hut better than her own. Ask Saduko; he knows more of these matters than I +do,” and she gazed at him steadily. Then she went on: “How can a +woman tell her reasons, O King, when she never knows them +herself?”—a question at which some of her hearers smiled. +</p> + +<p> +Now Saduko rose and said slowly: +</p> + +<p> +“Hear me, O King, and I will give the reason that Mameena hides. She left +me for Umbelazi because I bade her to do so, for I knew that Umbelazi desired +her, and I wished to tie the cord tighter which bound me to one who at that +time I thought would inherit the Throne. Also, I was weary of Mameena, who +quarrelled night and day with the Princess Nandie, my <i>Inkosikazi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Now Nandie gasped in astonishment (and so did I), but Mameena laughed and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, O King, those were the two real reasons that I had forgotten. I +left Saduko because he bade me, as he wished to make a present to the Prince. +Also, he <i>was</i> tired of me; for many days at a time he would scarcely +speak to me, because, however kind she might be, I could not help quarrelling +with the Princess Nandie. Moreover, there was another reason which I have +forgotten: I had no child, and not having any child I did not think it mattered +whether I went or stayed. If Saduko searches, he will remember that I told him +so, and that he agreed with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Again she looked at Saduko, who said hurriedly: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I told her so; I told her that I wished for no barren cows in +my kraal.” +</p> + +<p> +Now some of the audience laughed outright, but Panda frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems,” he said, “that my ears are being stuffed with +lies, though which of these two tells them I cannot say. Well, if the woman +left the man by his own wish, and that his ends might be furthered, as he says, +he had put her away, and therefore the fault, if any, is his, not hers. So that +charge is ended. Now, woman, what have you to tell us of the witchcraft which +it is said you practised upon the Prince who is gone, thereby causing him to +make war in the land?” +</p> + +<p> +“Little that you would wish to hear, O King, or that it would be seemly +for me to speak,” she answered, drooping her head modestly. “The +only witchcraft that ever I practised upon Umbelazi lies here”—and +she touched her beautiful eyes—“and here”—and she +touched her curving lips—“and in this poor shape of mine which some +have thought so fair. As for the war, what had I to do with war, who never +spoke to Umbelazi, who was so dear to me”—and she looked up with +tears running down her face—“save of love? O King, is there a man +among you all who would fear the witcheries of such a one as I; and because the +Heavens made me beautiful with the beauty that men must follow, am I also to be +killed as a sorceress?” +</p> + +<p> +Now, to this argument neither Panda nor anyone else seemed to find an answer, +especially as it was well known that Umbelazi had cherished his ambition to the +succession long before he met Mameena. So that charge was dropped, and the +first and greatest of the three proceeded with; namely, that it was she, +Mameena, and not her husband, Masapo, who had murdered Nandie’s child. +</p> + +<p> +When this accusation was made against her, for the first time I saw a little +shade of trouble flit across Mameena’s soft eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Surely, O King,” she said, “that matter was settled long +ago, when the Ndwande, Zikali, the great Nyanga, smelt out Masapo the wizard, +he who was my husband, and brought him to his death for this crime. Must I then +be tried for it again?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not so, woman,” answered Panda. “All that Zikali smelt out +was the poison that wrought the crime, and as some of that poison was found +upon Masapo, he was killed as a wizard. Yet it may be that it was not he who +used the poison.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then surely the King should have thought of that before he died,” +murmured Mameena. “But I forget: It is known that Masapo was always +hostile to the House of Senzangakona.” +</p> + +<p> +To this remark Panda made no answer, perhaps because it was unanswerable, even +in a land where it was customary to kill the supposed wizard first and inquire +as to his actual guilt afterwards, or not at all. Or perhaps he thought it +politic to ignore the suggestion that he had been inspired by personal enmity. +Only, he looked at his daughter, Nandie, who rose and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Have I leave to call a witness on this matter of the poison, my +Father?” +</p> + +<p> +Panda nodded, whereon Nandie said to one of the councillors: +</p> + +<p> +“Be pleased to summon my woman, Nahana, who waits without.” +</p> + +<p> +The man went, and presently returned with an elderly female who, it appeared, +had been Nandie’s nurse, and, never having married, owing to some +physical defect, had always remained in her service, a person well known and +much respected in her humble walk of life. +</p> + +<p> +“Nahana,” said Nandie, “you are brought here that you may +repeat to the King and his council a tale which you told to me as to the coming +of a certain woman into my hut before the death of my first-born son, and what +she did there. Say first, is this woman present here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, <i>Inkosazana</i>,” answered Nahana, “yonder she sits. +Who could mistake her?” and she pointed to Mameena, who was listening to +every word intently, as a dog listens at the mouth of an ant-bear hole when the +beast is stirring beneath. +</p> + +<p> +“Then what of the woman and her deeds?” asked Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“Only this, O King. Two nights before the child that is dead was taken +ill, I saw Mameena creep into the hut of the lady Nandie, I who was asleep +alone in a corner of the big hut out of reach of the light of the fire. At the +time the lady Nandie was away from the hut with her son. Knowing the woman for +Mameena, the wife of Masapo, who was on friendly terms with the +<i>Inkosazana</i>, whom I supposed she had come to visit, I did not declare +myself; nor did I take any particular note when I saw her sprinkle a little mat +upon which the babe, Saduko’s son, was wont to be laid, with some +medicine, because I had heard her promise to the <i>Inkosazana</i> a powder +which she said would drive away insects. Only, when I saw her throw some of +this powder into the vessel of warm water that stood by the fire, to be used +for the washing of the child, and place something, muttering certain words that +I could not catch, in the straw of the doorway, I thought it strange, and was +about to question her when she left the hut. As it happened, O King, but a +little while afterwards, before one could count ten tens indeed, a messenger +came to the hut to tell me that my old mother lay dying at her kraal four +days’ journey from Nodwengu, and prayed to see me before she died. Then I +forgot all about Mameena and the powder, and, running out to seek the Princess +Nandie, I craved her leave to go with the messenger to my mother’s kraal, +which she granted to me, saying that I need not return until my mother was +buried. +</p> + +<p> +“So I went. But, oh! my mother took long to die. Whole moons passed +before I shut her eyes, and all this while she would not let me go; nor, +indeed, did I wish to leave her whom I loved. At length it was over, and then +came the days of mourning, and after those some more days of rest, and after +them again the days of the division of the cattle, so that in the end six moons +or more had gone by before I returned to the service of the Princess Nandie, +and found that Mameena was now the second wife of the lord Saduko. Also I found +that the child of the lady Nandie was dead, and that Masapo, the first husband +of Mameena, had been smelt out and killed as the murderer of the child. But as +all these things were over and done with, and as Mameena was very kind to me, +giving me gifts and sparing me tasks, and as I saw that Saduko my lord loved +her much, it never came into my head to say anything of the matter of the +powder that I saw her sprinkle on the mat. +</p> + +<p> +“After she had run away with the Prince who is dead, however, I did tell +the lady Nandie. Moreover, the lady Nandie, in my presence, searched in the +straw of the doorway of the hut and found there, wrapped in soft hide, certain +medicines such as the Nyangas sell, wherewith those who consult them can +bewitch their enemies, or cause those whom they desire to love them or to hate +their wives or husbands. That is all I know of the story, O King.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do my ears hear a true tale, Nandie?” asked Panda. “Or is +this woman a liar like others?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think not, my Father; see, here is the <i>muti</i> [medicine] which +Nahana and I found hid in the doorway of the hut that I have kept unopened till +this day.” +</p> + +<p> +And she laid on the ground a little leather bag, very neatly sewn with sinews, +and fastened round its neck with a fibre string. +</p> + +<p> +Panda directed one of the councillors to open the bag, which the man did +unwillingly enough, since evidently he feared its evil influence, pouring out +its contents on to the back of a hide shield, which was then carried round so +that we might all look at them. These, so far as I could see, consisted of some +withered roots, a small piece of human thigh bone, such as might have come from +the skeleton of an infant, that had a little stopper of wood in its orifice, +and what I took to be the fang of a snake. +</p> + +<p> +Panda looked at them and shrank away, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Come hither, Zikali the Old, you who are skilled in magic, and tell us +what is this medicine.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Zikali rose from the corner where he had been sitting so silently, and +waddled heavily across the open space to where the shield lay in front of the +King. As he passed Mameena, she bent down over the dwarf and began to whisper +to him swiftly; but he placed his hands upon his big head, covering up his +ears, as I suppose, that he might not hear her words. +</p> + +<p> +“What have I to do with this matter, O King?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Much, it seems, O Opener-of-Roads,” said Panda sternly, +“seeing that you were the doctor who smelt out Masapo, and that it was in +your kraal that yonder woman hid herself while her lover, the Prince, my son, +who is dead, went down to the battle, and that she was brought thence with you. +Tell us, now, the nature of this <i>muti</i>, and, being wise, as you are, be +careful to tell us truly, lest it should be said, O Zikali, that you are not a +<i>Nyanga</i> only, but an <i>umtakati</i> as well. For then,” he added +with meaning, and choosing his words carefully, “perchance, O Zikali, I +might be tempted to make trial of whether or no it is true that you cannot be +killed like other men, especially as I have heard of late that your heart is +evil towards me and my House.” +</p> + +<p> +For a moment Zikali hesitated—I think to give his quick brain time to +work, for he saw his great danger. Then he laughed in his dreadful fashion and +said: +</p> + +<p> +“Oho! the King thinks that the otter is in the trap,” and he +glanced at the fence of the <i>isi-gohlo</i> and at the fierce executioners, +who stood watching him sternly. “Well, many times before has this otter +seemed to be in a trap, yes, ere your father saw light, O Son of Senzangakona, +and after it also. Yet here he stands living. Make no trial, O King, of whether +or no I be mortal, lest if Death should come to such a one as I, he should take +many others with him also. Have you not heard the saying that when the +Opener-of-Roads comes to the end of his road there will be no more a King of +the Zulus, as when he began his road there was no King of the Zulus, since the +days of his manhood are the days of <i>all</i> the Zulu kings?” +</p> + +<p> +Thus he spoke, glaring at Panda and at Cetewayo, who shrank before his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Remember,” he went on, “that the Black One who is +‘gone down’ long ago, the Wild Beast who fathered the Zulu herd, +threatened him whom he named the +‘Thing-that-should-not-have-been-born,’ aye, and slew those whom he +loved, and afterwards was slain by others, who also are ‘gone +down,’ and that you alone, O Panda, did <i>not</i> threaten him, and that +you alone, O Panda, have <i>not</i> been slain. Now, if you would make trial of +whether I die as other men die, bid your dogs fall on, for Zikali is +ready,” and he folded his arms and waited. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed, all of us waited breathlessly, for we understood that the terrible +dwarf was matching himself against Panda and Cetewayo and defying them both. +Presently it became obvious that he had won the game, since Panda only said: +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I slay one whom I have befriended in the past, and why do you +speak such heavy words of death in my ears, O, Zikali the Wise, which of late +have heard so much of death?” He sighed, adding: “Be pleased now, +to tell us of this medicine, or, if you will not, go, and I will send for other +<i>Nyangas</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I not tell you, when you ask me softly and without threats, O +King? See”—and Zikali took up some of the twisted +roots—“these are the roots of a certain poisonous herb that blooms +at night on the tops of mountains, and woe be to the ox that eats thereof. They +have been boiled in gall and blood, and ill will befall the hut in which they +are hidden by one who can speak the words of power. This is the bone of a babe +that has never lived to cut its teeth—I think of a babe that was left to +die alone in the bush because it was hated, or because none would father it. +Such a bone has strength to work ill against other babes; moreover, it is +filled with a charmed medicine. Look!” and, pulling out the plug of wood, +he scattered some grey powder from the bone, then stopped it up again. +“This,” he added, picking up the fang, “is the tooth of a +deadly serpent, that, after it has been doctored, is used by women to change +the heart of a man from another to herself. I have spoken.” +</p> + +<p> +And he turned to go. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay!” said the King. “Who set these foul charms in the +doorway of Saduko’s hut?” +</p> + +<p> +“How can I tell, O King, unless I make preparation and cast the bones and +smell out the evil-doer? You have heard the story of the woman Nahana. Accept +it or reject it as your heart tells you.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that story be true, O Zikali, how comes it that you yourself smelt +out, not Mameena, the wife of Masapo, but Masapo, her husband, himself, and +caused him to be slain because of the poisoning of the child of Nandie?” +</p> + +<p> +“You err, O King. I, Zikali, smelt out the House of Masapo. Then I smelt +out the poison, searching for it first in the hair of Mameena, and finding it +in the kaross of Masapo. I never smelt out that it was Masapo who gave the +poison. That was the judgment of you and of your Council, O King. Nay, I knew +well that there was more in the matter, and had you paid me another fee and +bade me to continue to use my wisdom, without doubt I should have found this +magic stuff hidden in the hut, and mayhap have learned the name of the hider. +But I was weary, who am very old; and what was it to me if you chose to kill +Masapo or chose to let him go? Masapo, who, being your secret enemy, was a man +who deserved to die—if not for this matter, then for others.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, all this while I had been watching Mameena, who sat, in the Zulu fashion, +listening to this deadly evidence, a slight smile upon her face, and without +attempting any interruption or comment. Only I saw that while Zikali was +examining the medicine, her eyes were seeking the eyes of Saduko, who remained +in his place, also silent, and, to all appearance, the least interested of +anyone present. He tried to avoid her glance, turning his head uneasily; but at +length her eyes caught his and held them. Then his heart began to beat quickly, +his breast heaved, and on his face there grew a look of dreamy content, even of +happiness. From that moment forward, till the end of the scene, Saduko never +took his eyes off this strange woman, though I think that, with the exception +of the dwarf, Zikali, who saw everything, and of myself, who am trained to +observation, none noted this curious by-play of the drama. +</p> + +<p> +The King began to speak. “Mameena,” he said, “you have heard. +Have you aught to say? For if not it would seem that you are a witch and a +murderess, and one who must die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yea, a little word, O King,” she answered quietly. “Nahana +speaks truth. It is true that I entered the hut of Nandie and set the medicine +there. I say it because by nature I am not one who hides the truth or would +attempt to throw discredit even upon a humble serving-woman,” and she +glanced at Nahana. +</p> + +<p> +“Then from between your own teeth it is finished,” said Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“Not altogether, O King. I have said that I set the medicine in the hut. +I have not said, and I will not say, how and why I set it there. That tale I +call upon Saduko yonder to tell to you, he who was my husband, that I left for +Umbelazi, and who, being a man, must therefore hate me. By the words he says I +will abide. If he declares that I am guilty, then I am guilty, and prepared to +pay the price of guilt. But if he declares that I am innocent, then, O King and +O Prince Cetewayo, without fear I trust myself to your justness. Now speak, O +Saduko; speak the whole truth, whatever it may be, if that is the King’s +will.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is my will,” said Panda. +</p> + +<p> +“And mine also,” added Cetewayo, who, I could see, like everyone +else, was much interested in this matter. +</p> + +<p> +Saduko rose to his feet, the same Saduko that I had always known, and yet so +changed. All the life and fire had gone from him; his pride in himself was no +more; none could have known him for that ambitious, confident man who, in his +day of power, the Zulus named the “Self-Eater.” He was a mere mask +of the old Saduko, informed by some new, some alien, spirit. With dull, +lack-lustre eyes fixed always upon the lovely eyes of Mameena, in slow and +hesitating tones he began his tale. +</p> + +<p> +“It is true, O Lion,” he said, “that Mameena spread the +poison upon my child’s mat. It is true that she set the deadly charms in +the doorway of Nandie’s hut. These things she did, not knowing what she +did, and it was I who instructed her to do them. This is the case. From the +beginning I have always loved Mameena as I have loved no other woman and as no +other woman was ever loved. But while I was away with Macumazahn, who sits +yonder, to destroy Bangu, chief of the Amakoba, he who had killed my father, +Umbezi, the father of Mameena, he whom the Prince Cetewayo gave to the vultures +the other day because he had lied as to the death of Umbelazi, he, I say, +forced Mameena, against her will, to marry Masapo the Boar, who afterwards was +executed for wizardry. Now, here at your feast, when you reviewed the people of +the Zulus, O King, after you had given me the lady Nandie as wife, Mameena and +I met again and loved each other more than we had ever done before. But, being +an upright woman, Mameena thrust me away from her, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“‘I have a husband, who, if he is not dear to me, still is my +husband, and while he lives to him I will be true.’ Then, O King, I took +counsel with the evil in my heart, and made a plot in myself to be rid of the +Boar, Masapo, so that when he was dead I might marry Mameena. This was the plot +that I made—that my son and Princess Nandie’s should be poisoned, +and that Masapo should seem to poison him, so that he might be killed as a +wizard and I marry Mameena.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, at this astounding statement, which was something beyond the experience of +the most cunning and cruel savage present there, a gasp of astonishment went up +from the audience; even old Zikali lifted his head and stared. Nandie, too, +shaken out of her usual calm, rose as though to speak; then, looking first at +Saduko and next at Mameena, sat herself down again and waited. But Saduko went +on again in the same cold, measured voice: +</p> + +<p> +“I gave Mameena a powder which I had bought for two heifers from a great +doctor who lived beyond the Tugela, but who is now dead, which powder I told +her was desired by Nandie, my <i>Inkosikazi</i>, to destroy the little beetles +that ran about the hut, and directed her where she was to spread it. Also, I +gave her the bag of medicine, telling her to thrust it into the doorway of the +hut, that it might bring a blessing upon my House. These things she did +ignorantly to please me, not knowing that the powder was poison, not knowing +that the medicine was bewitched. So my child died, as I wished it to die, and, +indeed, I myself fell sick because by accident I touched the powder. +</p> + +<p> +“Afterwards Masapo was smelt out as a wizard by old Zikali, I having +caused a bag of the poison to be sewn in his kaross in order to deceive Zikali, +and killed by your order, O King, and Mameena was given to me as a wife, also +by your order, O King, which was what I desired. Later on, as I have told you, +I wearied of her, and wishing to please the Prince who has wandered away, I +commanded her to yield herself to him, which Mameena did out of her love for me +and to advance my fortunes, she who is blameless in all things.” +</p> + +<p> +Saduko finished speaking and sat down again, as an automaton might do when a +wire is pulled, his lack-lustre eyes still fixed upon Mameena’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“You have heard, O King,” said Mameena. “Now pass judgment, +knowing that, if it be your will, I am ready to die for Saduko’s +sake.” +</p> + +<p> +But Panda sprang up in a rage. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Take him away!</i>” he said, pointing to Saduko. “Take +away that dog who is not fit to live, a dog who eats his own child that thereby +he may cause another to be slain unjustly and steal his wife.” +</p> + +<p> +The executioners leapt forward, and, having something to say, for I could bear +this business no longer, I began to rise to my feet. Before I gained them, +however, Zikali was speaking. +</p> + +<p> +“O King,” he said, “it seems that you have killed one man +unjustly on this matter, namely, Masapo. Would you do the same by +another?” and he pointed to Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” asked Panda angrily. “Have you not heard +this low fellow, whom I made great, giving him the rule over tribes and my +daughter in marriage, confess with his own lips that he murdered his child, the +child of my blood, in order that he might eat a fruit which grew by the +roadside for all men to nibble at?” and he glared at Mameena. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, Child of Senzangakona,” answered Zikali, “I heard +Saduko say this with his own lips, but the voice that spoke from the lips was +not the voice of Saduko, as, were you a skilled Nyanga like me, you would have +known as well as I do, and as well as does the white man, Watcher-by-Night, who +is a reader of hearts. +</p> + +<p> +“Hearken now, O King, and you great ones around the King, and I will tell +you a story. Matiwane, the father of Saduko, was my friend, as he was yours, O +King, and when Bangu slew him and his people, by leave of the Wild Beast +[Chaka], I saved the child, his son, aye, and brought him up in my own House, +having learned to love him. Then, when he became a man, I, the Opener-of-Roads, +showed him two roads, down either of which he might choose to walk—the +Road of Wisdom and the Road of War and Women: the white road that runs through +peace to knowledge, and the red road that runs through blood to death. +</p> + +<p> +“But already there stood one upon this red road who beckoned him, she who +sits yonder, and he followed after her, as I knew he would. From the beginning +she was false to him, taking a richer man for her husband. Then, when Saduko +grew great, she grew sorry, and came to ask my counsel as to how she might be +rid of Masapo, whom she swore she hated. I told her that she could leave him +for another man, or wait till her Spirit moved him from her path; but I never +put evil into her heart, seeing that it was there already. +</p> + +<p> +“Then she and no other, having first made Saduko love her more than ever, +murdered the child of Nandie, his <i>Inkosikazi;</i> and so brought about the +death of Masapo and crept into Saduko’s arms. Here she slept a while, +till a new shadow fell upon her, that of the +‘Elephant-with-the-tuft-of-hair,’ who will walk the woods no more. +Him she beguiled that she might grow great the quicker, and left the house of +Saduko, taking his heart with her, she who was destined to be the doom of men. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, into Saduko’s breast, where his heart had been, entered an +evil spirit of jealousy and of revenge, and in the battle of Endondakusuka that +spirit rode him as a white man rides a horse. As he had arranged to do with the +Prince Cetewayo yonder—nay, deny it not, O Prince, for I know all; did +you not make a bargain together, on the third night before the battle, among +the bushes, and start apart when the buck leapt out between you?” (Here +Cetewayo, who had been about to speak, threw the corner of his kaross over his +face.) “As he had arranged to do, I say, he went over with his regiments +from the <i>Isigqosa</i> to the <i>Usutu</i>, and so brought about the fall of +Umbelazi and the death of many thousands. Yes, and this he did for one reason +only—because yonder woman had left him for the Prince, and he cared more +for her than for all the world could give him, for her who had filled him with +madness as a bowl is filled with milk. And now, O King, you have heard this man +tell you a story, you have heard him shout out that he is viler than any man in +all the land; that he murdered his own child, the child he loved so well, to +win this witch; that afterwards he gave her to his friend and lord to buy more +of his favour, and that lastly he deserted that lord because he thought that +there was another lord from whom he could buy more favour. Is it not so, O +King?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is so,” answered Panda, “and therefore must Saduko be +thrown out to the jackals.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a while, O King. I say that Saduko has spoken not with his own +voice, but with the voice of Mameena. I say that she is the greatest witch in +all the land, and that she has drugged him with the medicine of her eyes, so +that he knows not what he says, even as she drugged the Prince who is +dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then prove it, or he dies!” exclaimed the King. +</p> + +<p> +Now the dwarf went to Panda and whispered in his ear, whereon Panda whispered +in turn into the ears of two of his councillors. These men, who were unarmed, +rose and made as though to leave the <i>isi-gohlo</i>. But as they passed +Mameena one of them suddenly threw his arms about her, pinioning her arms, the +other tearing off the kaross he wore—for the weather was cold—flung +it over her head and knotted it behind her so that she was hidden except for +her ankles and feet. Then, although she did not move or struggle, they caught +hold of her and stood still. +</p> + +<p> +Now Zikali hobbled to Saduko and bade him rise, which he did. Then he looked at +him for a long while and made certain movements with his hands before his face, +after which Saduko uttered a great sigh and stared about him. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko,” said Zikali, “I pray you tell me, your +foster-father, whether it is true, as men say, that you sold your wife, +Mameena, to the Prince Umbelazi in order that his favour might fall on you like +heavy rain?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wow!</i> Zikali,” said Saduko, with a start of rage, +“were you as others are I would kill you, you toad, who dare to spit +slander on my name. She ran away with the Prince, having beguiled him with the +magic of her beauty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Strike me not, Saduko,” went on Zikali, “or at least wait to +strike until you have answered one more question. Is it true, as men say, that +in the battle of Endondakusuka you went over to the <i>Usutu</i> with your +regiments because you thought that <i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i> would be +beaten, and wished to be on the side of him who won?” +</p> + +<p> +“What, Toad! More slander?” cried Saduko. “I went over for +one reason only—to be revenged upon the Prince because he had taken from +me her who was more to me than life or honour. Aye, and when I went over +Umbelazi was winning; it was because I went that he lost and died, as I meant +that he should die, though now,” he added sadly, “I would that I +had not brought him to ruin and the dust, who think that, like myself, he was +but wet clay in a woman’s fingers. +</p> + +<p> +“O King,” he added, turning to Panda, “kill me, I pray you, +who am not worthy to live, since to him whose hand is red with the blood of his +friend, death alone is left, who, while he breathes, must share his sleep with +ghosts that watch him with their angry eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Nandie sprang up and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Father, listen not to him who is mad, and therefore holy.<a +href="#fn-15.2" name="fnref-15.2" id="fnref-15.2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> What he +has done, he has done, who, as he has said, was but a tool in another’s +hand. As for our babe, I know well that he would have died sooner than harm it, +for he loved it much, and when it was taken away, for three whole days and +nights he wept and would touch no food. Give this poor man to me, my +Father—to me, his wife, who loves him—and let us go hence to some +other land, where perchance we may forget.” +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn-15.2" id="fn-15.2"></a> <a href="#fnref-15.2">[2]</a> +The Zulus suppose that insane people are inspired. —A.Q. +</p> + +<p> +“Be silent, daughter,” said the King; “and you, O Zikali, the +<i>Nyanga</i>, be silent also.” +</p> + +<p> +They obeyed, and, after thinking awhile, Panda made a motion with his hand, +whereon the two councillors lifted the kaross from off Mameena, who looked +about her calmly and asked if she were taking part in some child’s game. +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, woman,” answered Panda, “you are taking part in a great +game, but not, I think, such as is played by children—a game of life and +death. Now, have you heard the tale of Zikali the Little and Wise, and the +words of Saduko, who was once your husband, or must they be repeated to +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need, O King; my ears are too quick to be muffled by a fur +bag, and I would not waste your time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then what have you to say, woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not much,” she answered with a shrug of her shoulders, +“except that I have lost in this game. You will not believe me, but if +you had left me alone I should have told you so, who did not wish to see that +poor fool, Saduko, killed for deeds he had never done. Still, the tale he told +you was not told because I had bewitched him; it was told for love of me, whom +he desired to save. It was Zikali yonder; Zikali, the enemy of your House, who +in the end will destroy your House, O Son of Senzangakona, that bewitched him, +as he has bewitched you all, and forced the truth out of his unwilling heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, what more is there to say? Very little, as I think. I did the +things that are laid to my charge, and worse things which have not been stated. +Oh, I played for great stakes, I, who meant to be the <i>Inkosazana</i> of the +Zulus, and, as it chances, by the weight of a hair I have lost. I thought that +I had counted everything, but the hair’s weight which turned the balance +against me was the mad jealousy of this fool, Saduko, upon which I had not +reckoned. I see now that when I left Saduko I should have left him dead. Thrice +I had thought of it. Once I mixed the poison in his drink, and then he came in, +weary with his plottings, and kissed me ere he drank; and my woman’s +heart grew soft and I overset the bowl that was at his lips. Do you not +remember, Saduko? +</p> + +<p> +“So, so! For that folly alone I deserve to die, for she who would +reign”—and her beautiful eyes flashed royally—“must +have a tiger’s heart, not that of a woman. Well, because I was too kind I +must die; and, after all is said, it is well to die, who go hence awaited by +thousands upon thousands that I have sent before me, and who shall be greeted +presently by your son, Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti, and his warriors, greeted as the +<i>Inkosazana</i> of Death, with red, lifted spears and with the royal salute! +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I have spoken. Walk your little road, O King and Prince and +Councillors, till you reach the gulf into which I sink, that yawns for all of +you. O King, when you meet me again at the bottom of that gulf, what a tale you +will have to tell me, you who are but the shadow of a king, you whose heart +henceforth must be eaten out by a worm that is called <i>Love-of-the-Lost</i>. +O Prince and Conqueror Cetewayo, what a tale you will have to tell me when I +greet you at the bottom of that gulf, you who will bring your nation to a wreck +and at last die as I must die—only the servant of others and by the will +of others. Nay, ask me not how. Ask old Zikali, my master, who saw the +beginning of your House and will see its end. Oh, yes, as you say, I am a +witch, and I know, I know! Come, I am spent. You men weary me, as men have +always done, being but fools whom it is so easy to make drunk, and who when +drunk are so unpleasing. <i>Piff!</i> I am tired of you sober and cunning, and +I am tired of you drunken and brutal, you who, after all, are but beasts of the +field to whom <i>Mvelingangi</i>, the Creator, has given heads which can think, +but which always think wrong. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, King, before you unchain your dogs upon me, I ask one moment. I +said that I hated all men, yet, as you know, no woman can tell the +truth—quite. There is a man whom I do not hate, whom I never hated, whom +I think I love because he would not love me. He sits there,” and to my +utter dismay, and the intense interest of that company, she pointed at me, +Allan Quatermain! +</p> + +<p> +“Well, once by my ‘magic,’ of which you have heard so much, I +got the better of this man against his will and judgment, and, because of that +soft heart of mine, I let him go; yes, I let the rare fish go when he was on my +hook. It is well that I should have let him go, since, had I kept him, a fine +story would have been spoiled and I should have become nothing but a white +hunter’s servant, to be thrust away behind the door when the white +<i>Inkosikazi</i> came to eat his meat—I, Mameena, who never loved to +stand out of sight behind a door. Well, when he was at my feet and I spared +him, he made me a promise, a very small promise, which yet I think he will keep +now when we part for a little while. Macumazahn, did you not promise to kiss me +once more upon the lips whenever and wherever I should ask you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did,” I answered in a hollow voice, for in truth her eyes held +me as they had held Saduko. +</p> + +<p> +“Then come now, Macumazahn, and give me that farewell kiss. The King will +permit it, and since I have now no husband, who take Death to husband, there is +none to say you nay.” +</p> + +<p> +I rose. It seemed to me that I could not help myself. I went to her, this woman +surrounded by implacable enemies, this woman who had played for great stakes +and lost them, and who knew so well how to lose. I stood before her, ashamed +and yet not ashamed, for something of her greatness, evil though it might be, +drove out my shame, and I knew that my foolishness was lost in a vast tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly she lifted her languid arm and threw it about my neck; slowly she bent +her red lips to mine and kissed me, once upon the mouth and once upon the +forehead. But between those two kisses she did a thing so swiftly that my eyes +could scarcely follow what she did. It seemed to me that she brushed her left +hand across her lips, and that I saw her throat rise as though she swallowed +something. Then she thrust me from her, saying: +</p> + +<p> +“Farewell, O Macumazana, you will never forget this kiss of mine; and +when we meet again we shall have much to talk of, for between now and then your +story will be long. Farewell, Zikali. I pray that all your plannings may +succeed, since those you hate are those I hate, and I bear you no grudge +because you told the truth at last. Farewell, Prince Cetewayo. You will never +be the man your brother would have been, and your lot is very evil, you who are +doomed to pull down a House built by One who was great. Farewell, Saduko the +fool, who threw away your fortune for a woman’s eyes, as though the world +were not full of women. Nandie the Sweet and the Forgiving will nurse you well +until your haunted end. Oh! why does Umbelazi lean over your shoulder, Saduko, +and look at me so strangely? Farewell, Panda the Shadow. Now let loose your +slayers. Oh! let them loose swiftly, lest they should be balked of my +blood!” +</p> + +<p> +Panda lifted his hand and the executioners leapt forward, but ere ever they +reached her, Mameena shivered, threw wide her arms and fell back—dead. +The poisonous drug she had taken worked well and swiftly. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Such was the end of Mameena, Child of Storm. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +A deep silence followed, a silence of awe and wonderment, till suddenly it was +broken by a sound of dreadful laughter. It came from the lips of Zikali the +Ancient, Zikali, the +</p> + +<p> +“Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>Chapter XVI.<br /> +MAMEENA—MAMEENA—MAMEENA!</h2> + +<p> +That evening at sunset, just as I was about to trek, for the King had given me +leave to go, and at that time my greatest desire in life seemed to be to bid +good-bye to Zululand and the Zulus—I saw a strange, beetle-like shape +hobbling up the hill towards me, supported by two big men. It was Zikali. +</p> + +<p> +He passed me without a word, merely making a motion that I was to follow him, +which I did out of curiosity, I suppose, for Heaven knows I had seen enough of +the old wizard to last me for a lifetime. He reached a flat stone about a +hundred yards above my camp, where there was no bush in which anyone could +hide, and sat himself down, pointing to another stone in front of him, on which +I sat myself down. Then the two men retired out of earshot, and, indeed, of +sight, leaving us quite alone. +</p> + +<p> +“So you are going away, O Macumazana?” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I am,” I answered with energy, “who, if I could have +had my will, would have gone away long ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I know that; but it would have been a great pity, would it +not? If you had gone, Macumazahn, you would have missed seeing the end of a +strange little story, and you, who love to study the hearts of men and women, +would not have been so wise as you are to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, nor as sad, Zikali. Oh! the death of that woman!” And I put my +hand before my eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I understand, Macumazahn; you were always fond of her, were you not, +although your white pride would not suffer you to admit that black fingers were +pulling at your heartstrings? She was a wonderful witch, was Mameena; and there +is this comfort for you—that she pulled at other heartstrings as well. +Masapo’s, for instance; Saduko’s, for instance; Umbelazi’s, +for instance, none of whom got any luck from her pulling—yes, and even at +mine.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, as I did not think it worth while to contradict his nonsense so far as I +was concerned personally, I went off on this latter point. +</p> + +<p> +“If you show affection as you did towards Mameena to-day, Zikali, I pray +my Spirit that you may cherish none for me,” I said. +</p> + +<p> +He shook his great head pityingly as he answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you never love a lamb and kill it afterwards when you were hungry, +or when it grew into a ram and butted you, or when it drove away your other +sheep, so that they fell into the hands of thieves? Now, I am very hungry for +the fall of the House of Senzangakona, and the lamb, Mameena, having grown big, +nearly laid me on my back to-day within the reach of the slayer’s spear. +Also, she was hunting my sheep, Saduko, into an evil net whence he could never +have escaped. So, somewhat against my will, I was driven to tell the truth of +that lamb and her tricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“I daresay,” I exclaimed; “but, at any rate, she is done +with, so what is the use of talking about her?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Macumazahn, she is done with, or so you think, though that is a +strange saying for a white man who believes in much that we do not know; but at +least her work remains, and it has been a great work. Consider now. Umbelazi +and most of the princes, and thousands upon thousands of the Zulus, whom I, the +Dwande, hate, dead, dead! <i>Mameena’s work</i>, Macumazahn! +Panda’s hand grown strengthless with sorrow and his eyes blind with +tears. <i>Mameena’s work</i>, Macumazahn! Cetewayo, king in all but name; +Cetewayo, who shall bring the House of Senzangakona to the dust. +<i>Mameena’s work</i>, Macumazahn! Oh! a mighty work. Surely she has +lived a great and worthy life, and she died a great and worthy death! And how +well she did it! Had you eyes to see her take the poison which I gave +her—a good poison, was it not?—between her kisses, +Macumazahn?” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe it was your work, and not hers,” I blurted out, ignoring +his mocking questions. “You pulled the strings; you were the wind that +caused the grass to bend till the fire caught it and set the town in +flames—the town of your foes.” +</p> + +<p> +“How clever you are, Macumazahn! If your wits grow so sharp, one day they +will cut your throat, as, indeed, they have nearly done several times already. +Yes, yes, I know how to pull strings till the trap falls, and to blow grass +until the flame catches it, and how to puff at that flame until it burns the +House of Kings. And yet this trap would have fallen without me, only then it +might have snared other rats; and this grass would have caught fire if I had +not blown, only then it might have burnt another House. I did not make these +forces, Macumazahn; I did but guide them towards a great end, for which the +White House [that is, the English] should thank me one day.” He brooded a +while, then went on: “But what need is there to talk to you of these +matters, Macumazahn, seeing that in a time to come you will have your share in +them and see them for yourself? After they are finished, then we will +talk.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not wish to talk of them,” I answered. “I have said so +already. But for what other purpose did you take the trouble to come +here?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, to bid you farewell for a little while, Macumazahn. Also to tell you +that Panda, or rather Cetewayo, for now Panda is but his Voice, since the Head +must go where the Feet carry it, has spared Saduko at the prayer of Nandie and +banished him from the land, giving him his cattle and any people who care to go +with him to wherever he may choose to live from henceforth. At least, Cetewayo +says it was at Nandie’s prayer, and at mine and yours, but what he means +is that, after all that has happened, he thought it wise that Saduko should die +of himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that he should kill himself, Zikali?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; I mean that his own <i>idhlozi</i>, his Spirit, should be left +to kill him, which it will do in time. You see, Macumazahn, Saduko is now +living with a ghost, which he calls the ghost of Umbelazi, whom he +betrayed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that your way of saying he is mad, Zikali?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, he lives with a ghost, or the ghost lives in him, or he is +mad—call it which you will. The mad have a way of living with ghosts, and +ghosts have a way of sharing their food with the mad. Now you understand +everything, do you not?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” I answered; “it is as plain as the sun.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! did I not say you were clever, Macumazahn, you who know where +madness ends and ghosts begin, and why they are just the same thing? Well, the +sun is no longer plain. Look, it has sunk; and you would be on your road who +wish to be far from Nodwengu before morning. You will pass the plain of +Endondakusuka, will you not, and cross the Tugela by the drift? Have a look +round, Macumazahn, and see if you can recognise any old friends. Umbezi, the +knave and traitor, for instance; or some of the princes. If so, I should like +to send them a message. What! You cannot wait? Well, then, here is a little +present for you, some of my own work. Open it when it is light again, +Macumazahn; it may serve to remind you of the strange little tale of Mameena +with the Heart of Fire. I wonder where she is now? Sometimes, +sometimes—” And he rolled his great eyes about him and sniffed at +the air like a hound. “Farewell till we meet again. Farewell, Macumazahn. +Oh! if you had only run away with Mameena, how different things might have been +to-day!” +</p> + +<p> +I jumped up and fled from that terrible old dwarf, whom I verily believe— +No; where is the good of my saying what I believe? I fled from him, leaving him +seated on the stone in the shadows, and as I fled, out of the darkness behind +me there arose the sound of his loud and eerie laughter. +</p> + +<p> +Next morning I opened the packet which he had given me, after wondering once or +twice whether I should not thrust it down an ant-bear hole as it was. But this, +somehow, I could not find the heart to do, though now I wish I had. Inside, cut +from the black core of the <i>umzimbiti</i> wood, with just a little of the +white sap left on it to mark the eyes, teeth and nails, was a likeness of +Mameena. Of course, it was rudely executed, but it was—or rather is, for +I have it still—a wonderfully good portrait of her, for whether Zikali +was or was not a wizard, he was certainly a good artist. There she stands, her +body a little bent, her arms outstretched, her head held forward with the lips +parted, just as though she were about to embrace somebody, and in one of her +hands, cut also from the white sap of the <i>umzimbiti</i>, she grasps a human +heart—Saduko’s, I presume, or perhaps Umbelazi’s. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was this all, for the figure was wrapped in a woman’s hair, which I +knew at once for that of Mameena, this hair being held in place by the necklet +of big blue beads she used to wear about her throat. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Some five years had gone by, during which many things had happened to me that +need not be recorded here, when one day I found myself in a rather remote part +of the Umvoti district of Natal, some miles to the east of a mountain called +the Eland’s Kopje, whither I had gone to carry out a big deal in mealies, +over which, by the way, I lost a good bit of money. That has always been my +fate when I plunged into commercial ventures. +</p> + +<p> +One night my wagons, which were overloaded with these confounded weevilly +mealies, got stuck in the drift of a small tributary of the Tugela that most +inopportunely had come down in flood. Just as darkness fell I managed to get +them up the bank in the midst of a pelting rain that soaked me to the bone. +There seemed to be no prospect of lighting a fire or of obtaining any decent +food, so I was about to go to bed supperless when a flash of lightning showed +me a large kraal situated upon a hillside about half a mile away, and an idea +entered my mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is the headman of that kraal?” I asked of one of the Kafirs +who had collected round us in our trouble, as such idle fellows always do. +</p> + +<p> +“Tshoza, <i>Inkoosi</i>,” answered the man. +</p> + +<p> +“Tshoza! Tshoza!” I said, for the name seemed familiar to me. +“Who is Tshoza?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Ikona</i> [I don’t know], <i>Inkoosi</i>. He came from Zululand +some years ago with Saduko the Mad.” +</p> + +<p> +Then, of course, I remembered at once, and my mind flew back to the night when +old Tshoza, the brother of Matiwane, Saduko’s father, had cut out the +cattle of the Bangu and we had fought the battle in the pass. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” I said, “is it so? Then lead me to Tshoza, and I will +give you a ‘Scotchman.’” (That is, a two-shilling piece, so +called because some enterprising emigrant from Scotland passed off a vast +number of them among the simple natives of Natal as substitutes for +half-crowns.) +</p> + +<p> +Tempted by this liberal offer—and it was very liberal, because I was +anxious to get to Tshoza’s kraal before its inhabitants went to +bed—the meditative Kafir consented to guide me by a dark and devious path +that ran through bush and dripping fields of corn. At length we +arrived—for if the kraal was only half a mile away, the path to it +covered fully two miles—and glad enough was I when we had waded the last +stream and found ourselves at its gate. +</p> + +<p> +In response to the usual inquiries, conducted amid a chorus of yapping dogs, I +was informed that Tshoza did not live there, but somewhere else; that he was +too old to see anyone; that he had gone to sleep and could not be disturbed; +that he was dead and had been buried last week, and so forth. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, my friend,” I said at last to the fellow who was +telling me all these lies, “you go to Tshoza in his grave and say to him +that if he does not come out alive instantly, Macumazahn will deal with his +cattle as once he dealt with those of Bangu.” +</p> + +<p> +Impressed with the strangeness of this message, the man departed, and +presently, in the dim light of the rain-washed moon, I perceived a little old +man running towards me; for Tshoza, who was pretty ancient at the beginning of +this history, had not been made younger by a severe wound at the battle of the +Tugela and many other troubles. +</p> + +<p> +“Macumazahn,” he said, “is that really you? Why, I heard that +you were dead long ago; yes, and sacrificed an ox for the welfare of your +Spirit.” +</p> + +<p> +“And ate it afterwards, I’ll be bound,” I answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! it must be you,” he went on, “who cannot be deceived, +for it is true we ate that ox, combining the sacrifice to your Spirit with a +feast; for why should anything be wasted when one is poor? Yes, yes, it must be +you, for who else would come creeping about a man’s kraal at night, +except the Watcher-by-Night? Enter, Macumazahn, and be welcome.” +</p> + +<p> +So I entered and ate a good meal while we talked over old times. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, where is Saduko?” I asked suddenly as I lit my pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“Saduko?” he answered, his face changing as he spoke. “Oh! of +course he is here. You know I came away with him from Zululand. Why? Well, to +tell the truth, because after the part we had played—against <i>my</i> +will, Macumazahn—at the battle of Endondakusuka, I thought it safer to be +away from a country where those who have worn their karosses inside out find +many enemies and few friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so,” I said. “But about Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I told you, did I not? He is in the next hut, and dying!” +</p> + +<p> +“Dying! What of, Tshoza?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know,” he answered mysteriously; “but I think +he must be bewitched. For a long while, a year or more, he has eaten little and +cannot bear to be alone in the dark; indeed, ever since he left Zululand he has +been very strange and moody.” +</p> + +<p> +Now I remembered what old Zikali had said to me years before to the effect that +Saduko was living with a ghost which would kill him. +</p> + +<p> +“Does he think much about Umbelazi, Tshoza?” I asked. +</p> + +<p> +“O Macumazana, he thinks of nothing else; the Spirit of Umbelazi is in +him day and night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed,” I said. “Can I see him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, Macumazahn. I will go and ask the lady Nandie at +once, for, if you can, I believe there is no time to lose.” And he left +the hut. +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes later he returned with a woman, Nandie the Sweet herself, the same +quiet, dignified Nandie whom I used to know, only now somewhat worn with +trouble and looking older than her years. +</p> + +<p> +“Greeting, Macumazahn,” she said. “I am pleased to see you, +although it is strange, very strange, that you should come here just at this +time. Saduko is leaving us—on a long journey, Macumazahn.” +</p> + +<p> +I answered that I had heard so with grief, and wondered whether he would like +to see me. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, very much, Macumazahn; only be prepared to find him different from +the Saduko whom you knew. Be pleased to follow me.” +</p> + +<p> +So we went out of Tshoza’s hut, across a courtyard to another large hut, +which we entered. It was lit with a good lamp of European make; also a bright +fire burned upon the hearth, so that the place was as light as day. At the side +of the hut a man lay upon some blankets, watched by a woman. His eyes were +covered with his hand, and he was moaning: +</p> + +<p> +“Drive him away! Drive him away! Cannot he suffer me to die in +peace?” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you drive away your old friend, Macumazahn, Saduko?” asked +Nandie very gently, “Macumazahn, who has come from far to see you?” +</p> + +<p> +He sat up, and, the blankets falling off him, showed me that he was nothing but +a living skeleton. Oh! how changed from that lithe and handsome chief whom I +used to know. Moreover, his lips quivered and his eyes were full of terrors. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it really you, Macumazahn?” he said in a weak voice. +“Come, then, and stand quite close to me, so that <i>he</i> may not get +between us,” and he stretched out his bony hand. +</p> + +<p> +I took the hand; it was icy cold. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, it is I, Saduko,” I said in a cheerful voice; “and +there is no man to get between us; only the lady Nandie, your wife, and myself +are in the hut; she who watched you has gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, Macumazahn, there is another in the hut whom you cannot see. +There he stands,” and he pointed towards the hearth. “Look! The +spear is through him and his plume lies on the ground!” +</p> + +<p> +“Through whom, Saduko?” +</p> + +<p> +“Whom? Why, the Prince Umbelazi, whom I betrayed for Mameena’s +sake.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why do you talk wind, Saduko?” I asked. “Years ago I saw +<i>Indhlovu-ene-Sihlonti</i> die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Die, Macumazahn! We do not die; it is only our flesh that dies. Yes, +yes, I have learned that since we parted. Do you not remember his last words: +‘I will haunt you while you live, and when you cease to live, ah! then we +shall meet again’? Oh! from that hour to this he <i>has</i> haunted me, +Macumazahn—he and the others; and now, now we are about to meet as he +promised.” +</p> + +<p> +Then once more he hid his eyes and groaned. +</p> + +<p> +“He is mad,” I whispered to Nandie. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps. Who knows?” she answered, shaking her head. +</p> + +<p> +Saduko uncovered his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Make ‘the-thing-that-burns’ brighter,” he gasped, +“for I do not perceive him so clearly when it is bright. Oh! Macumazahn, +he is looking at you and whispering. To whom is he whispering? I see! to +Mameena, who also looks at you and smiles. They are talking. Be silent. I must +listen.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, I began to wish that I were out of that hut, for really a little of this +uncanny business went a long way. Indeed, I suggested going, but Nandie would +not allow it. +</p> + +<p> +“Stay with me till the end,” she muttered. So I had to stay, +wondering what Saduko heard Umbelazi whispering to Mameena, and on which side +of me he saw her standing. +</p> + +<p> +He began to wander in his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“That was a clever pit you dug for Bangu, Macumazahn; but you would not +take your share of the cattle, so the blood of the Amakoba is not on your head. +Ah! what a fight was that which the Amawombe made at Endondakusuka. You were +with them, you remember, Macumazahn; and why was I not at your side? Oh! then +we would have swept away the <i>Usutu</i> as the wind sweeps ashes. Why was I +not at your side to share the glory? I remember now—because of the +Daughter of Storm. She betrayed me for Umbelazi, and I betrayed Umbelazi for +her; and now he haunts me, whose greatness I brought to the dust; and the +<i>Usutu</i> wolf, Cetewayo, curls himself up in his form and grows fat on his +food. And—and, Macumazahn, it has all been done in vain, for Mameena +hates me. Yes, I can read it in her eyes. She mocks and hates me worse in death +than she did in life, and she says that—that it was not all her +fault—because she loves—because she loves—” +</p> + +<p> +A look of bewilderment came upon his face—his poor, tormented face; then +suddenly Saduko threw his arms wide, and sobbed in an ever-weakening voice: +</p> + +<p> +“All—all done in vain! Oh! <i>Mameena, Ma—mee—na, +Ma—meena!</i>” and fell back dead. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“Saduko has gone away,” said Nandie, as she drew a blanket over his +face. “But I wonder,” she added with a little hysterical smile, +“oh! how I wonder who it was the Spirit of Mameena told him that she +loved—Mameena, who was born without a heart?” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +I made no answer, for at that moment I heard a very curious sound, which seemed +to me to proceed from somewhere above the hut. Of what did it remind me? Ah! I +knew. It was like the sound of the dreadful laughter of Zikali, +Opener-of-Roads—Zikali, the +“Thing-that-should-never-have-been-born.” +</p> + +<p> +Doubtless, however, it was only the cry of some storm-driven night bird. Or +perhaps it was an hyena that laughed—an hyena that scented death. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHILD OF STORM ***</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 1711-h.htm or 1711-h.zip</div> +<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/1/1711/</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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