Well was it, now, that the army had been called up, and was disposed in or around the Great Place; well indeed for us now, for we would need all our strength to beat back or stamp out this locust swarm. Bitter and stubborn fighters were they, and knew how to use their long guns. The war-song was sung, and war-dances were held among our regiments, and the talk of all men was of war.
But Dingane was uneasy in his mind, and in his rage at not being sooner informed of the advance of the Amabuna, he sent for the head men of the outlying kraals and had them killed. Two of them he ordered to be impaled upon stakes, within sight of all in Nkunkundhlovu.
Now hard by there dwelt a white man – an Umfundisi (Teacher or missionary), one of your countrymen, Nkose. Him the King had allowed to live there because he was the friend of another white man who had visited the country alone and in a friendly manner a short while before, but Dingane had no love for him or his teaching, nor had any of us in those days. This man, seeing from his house the death of those evil-doers, came quickly down to Nkunkundhlovu, hoping he might save the lives of others, for he was a man with a kind heart and hated to behold suffering.
Now as he came before the King he was very pale, for he had passed close to the place of slaughter where lay those just slain, with broken skulls; and the sight of the agony of the two upon the stakes turned him very sick.
“You are somewhat late, my father,” said Dingane, when the Umfundisi would have pleaded for their lives. “The mouths of those who kept them closed too long are now closed for ever. Yonder they lie.”
“But those under torture, King?” urged the white man, hardly able to look in the direction of the stakes, so filled was he with loathing and disgust. “At least give the word that they be put out of their pain.”
“Au! Here is a marvel!” said Dingane laughing; “the white Umfundisi actually pleading for the death of men!”
“Yes, but it is to save them hours of cruel torment,” answered the white man quickly.
“Ah, ah!” laughed the King. “And yet, my father, you teach that nothing but torment awaits bad men after death – torment for ever and ever. Is it not so?”
Now we who listened awaited the Umfundisi’s reply with some curiosity.
“That is so, King, for it is in the word of God,” he said.
“Why, then, if that is so, Umfundisi, it will make no difference whether I order these to be slain at once or not, since, they being bad men, torment awaits them after death,” answered Dingane.
“But were they bad men, King? What was their crime?”
“Their crime was that of those who sleep when they should have been awake, Umfundisi; and I seem to remember that in the stories you teach to my people out of your sacred book such are thrown by the God whom you serve into a place of darkness and of never-ending torment. So the punishment I mete out to my people is less than the punishment your God metes out to his.”
“But His ways are not as our ways,” replied the Umfundisi, becoming angry. “He alone created life, and He alone has the right to take it. Who art thou, sinful man?” he went on, his eyes blazing with wrath, and pointing his finger at the King. “Who art thou, thou man of blood, to wreck and mangle God’s Image thus?” pointing to those upon the stakes. “Tremble and know that a judgment awaits thee – yea, a burning fiery looking-for of judgment to come. Then the torment that these undergo now shall be a bed of flowers beside such as thine, for thy part shall be in the lake that burneth with fire for ever and ever and ever.”
The eyes of the Umfundisi seemed to blaze, his hair to bristle, as he thundered out his words, shaking his finger at the King; and we —au! – we looked to see a third stake erected to receive the body of this white man, who dared to revile the majesty of the Lion of Zulu – or, at least, that he be led forth to die beneath the knobsticks of the slayers – and we gazed at the King, awaiting the word. But Dingane only laughed.
“Thou mad Umfundisi,” he said. “Had I but spoken of thy God as thy speech is to me I should have gone into torment for ever and ever according to thee and thy teachings. But I am more merciful than thy God, and thou canst go home. Yet hearken! I am god over the people of Zulu, and if a man disobeys me I order his death —whau! – a swift and easy and painless death, or at worst a few hours of torment. But thy God? Whau! for ever and ever and ever does He torment men after death, in a burning flame of fire! So, Umfundisi, I am the more merciful of the two; and I think the people of Zulu prefer the god they know to the one whom thou and such as thee would teach them to worship. Now, go home. Hamba gahle, Umfundisi! Hamba gahle!”
“Hamba gahle, Umfundisi!” we all cried, deriding the white man as he went away. But some of us wondered that the King should allow him to live, or, at any rate, to remain in the country; and, indeed, had he been a man of any other nation I think he would have died that day; but, being a man of your country, Nkose, he was allowed to live unmolested, for Dingane had no wish to quarrel with the English. But most of us – especially Tambusa – would gladly have seen this interfering Umfundisi despatched to – well, to that place of torment whither he had predicted the King should come.
Chapter Thirteen.
The Tongue of the Snake
The cloud which had rolled down upon the land of Zulu from the slopes of Kwahlamba was destined to be no mere summer cloud, Nkose, but was charged with thunders, black and threatening. The army, which had been doctored and made ready for war, wearied the King with its clamour to be sent forth against the invaders, and long and oft would Dingane hold council with the izinduna as to what was best to be done to repel this peril. Now I reckoned it a sign of the honour in which I was held that at such conferences I was ever commanded to be present.
But counsels were various. Some were for falling upon the Amabuna in the passes of Kwahlamba; others for allowing them all to cross in peace, and when encamped on our side to throw the whole strength of our army upon them, and, having cut off their retreat, to put every one of them – man, woman and child – to the assegai – even the suckling babe.
“I have a mind to send to the white people at Tegwini,” (Durban. Literally “The Bay”) said the King. “They are my friends, but not of this new race. It may be that they will aid me to get rid of these Amabuna.”
But Tambusa, who hated all whites, opposed this idea of the King’s. The people at Tegwini, he urged, would stand by these other whites and support them. White was white, and black was black, and all white people stood together against black, although they professed very great friendship when but a mere handful, and had anything to gain by it. He had always objected to this handful of English being allowed to remain at Tegwini from the very first. If it was inexpedient to kill them they should have been sent away right out of the country.
In this counsel Tambusa was right, as subsequent events proved; but, Nkose, few men would have dared to speak their minds thus boldly. But Tambusa although he hated me, I could not but regard with respect as a brave man, and as such he lived and died, as will be shown.
“And thou, Untúswa,” said Dingane, “thou hast fought these Amabuna. What is thy mind in this matter?”
“It is that of Tambusa, Great Great One,” I answered. “These Amabuna fight hard and die hard, nor is their word to be trusted. He whom I served knew how to handle them – and there is but one way.” Then I told that tale of how they would have enslaved our nation, and how they plotted with certain of Umzilikazi’s izinduna to procure the death of that king; and all who heard me murmured aloud that there was but one way for these people, and that was the way of the spear.
“A swarm of locusts beaten off returns again,” I ended, “and again and again, until the land is eaten up; but a swarm of locusts stamped flat —au! there is no more of that swarm. That is my counsel, Lion of Zulu.”
And again all murmured aloud in approval of my words, for it was intolerable to us that these strangers should swarm down upon the land, not even so much as asking leave of the King; and this, Nkose, I felt, as though I had done konza to the House of Senzangakona all my life, instead of growing great in the service of another king; for, after all, this was the land of my birth – this people the parent race from which we were all proud to have sprung. Moreover, for the present, I thought no more of my revenge. Here was more than one great and glorious battle awaiting; it was long since I had taken part in such a one, and the blood rushed and danced in my veins at the thought.
From day to day our spies brought in word to the King. The Amabuna continued to advance, and they were in great force. Their leaders and picked men were stern, determined-looking fighters, fierce of aspect, with their long guns and leather breeches and shaggy beards; and our warriors, listening, lay under arms, their eyes glaring like those of lions, as they awaited the word that should let them loose.
Then came tidings that the Amabuna had formed a great camp some ten days distant from Nkunkundhlovu, and that several of their leaders were advancing to talk with the King.
Soon they arrived. They were but a few men, with their servants. Dingane received them in but quiet state, seated at the head of the great open space of the kraal. Save the King’s body-guard, but few warriors were visible, yet so little did we trust the Amabuna that every hut in Nkunkundhlovu held two or three armed men ready to spring forth on a given signal, the while relays of spies watched their distant camp, so as to pass the word should any sudden and hostile movement be made thence.
The leaders of the Amabuna rode into the kraal. They were required to leave their guns with their horses in the centre of the kraal. This they did not at all like, even when told that it was death for any man – black or white – to come armed into the presence of the King. But they had to do it, or return as they came.
“Ah, ah! This is not the head of the snake, only its tongue,” growled Tambusa aside to some of us as we watched the approach of the white men. “Soon shall we have its head.”
Dingane was seated in his chair of state, and received the Amabuna pleasantly. Bowls of tywala were handed round, and then, sitting in a half circle in front of him, the indaba commenced.
They had travelled far, they said, even as the People of God in old times, seeking a land where they might dwell in peace. Such a land they had found, a land over which the Zulu King claimed ownership, but which was little used, if at all, by him or his people. Now this land, which lay between the Tugela and the Umzimvubu, they desired to treat for. For it they would give part payment in cattle and horses, and part payment in acting as friends to the Zulu people, supporting them by force of arms in all their lawful quarrels. So should two peoples flourish and grow great, dwelling in peace side by side, the waters of the Tugela alone dividing them.
“I know not,” answered Dingane, speaking pleasantly. “When two great bulls stand looking at each other over one fence, are they friends for long?” And we all murmured aloud in praise of the wisdom of the King.
But the Amabuna replied that the land on each side of the proposed boundary was large enough for both.
“The kraal in which stands each of those bulls is large enough for him,” said Dingane, still speaking pleasantly; “yet it is not long before one of them is through the fence to drive out the other. Then he rules over both kraals.”
What the King said was very true; yet it would not be so in this case, urged the Amabuna, for there could be no reason why either should seek a quarrel with the other. The people of their race sought a quarrel with no man. They only desired to be let alone.
“Why, then, did ye leave your own land?” asked Dingane. “Why did ye not stay the other side of Kwahlamba?”
We, who sat around the King, narrowly watching the countenances of the Amabuna, could see that these men did not like that question at all. They did not answer for a moment; then they said, through him who spoke as their tongue, for they knew not ours:
“We crossed the mountains in obedience to the will of God. It was His will that we should seek out a new land for our wives and our children, and His finger it was that guided us hither. We are even as the People of God in old times, who went to dwell in the land which He had promised them; and, even as they, we are ruled and led by the Great Book.”
Now we who listened could have laughed aloud, for we had heard something of that people of old to which the Amabuna referred. Many a tale had the Umfundisi, who dwelt hard by, told us of that people; how it swept onward, a fierce and unsparing scourge, destroying and enslaving tribes and nations, and seizing their flocks and their herds and their women; and we liked to listen to such tales, for they were those of a right valiant warrior race – indeed, me they reminded of our fierce and destroying flight under Umzilikazi. But now we thought those Amabuna must be fools, indeed; for if they were the children of that people, still less did we desire them as neighbours.
“So ye are the people of God, brothers?” said the King softly, his head on one side.
“That is so, King,” they answered, looking upward solemnly.
“Why then, indeed, should we be as brothers, for we are the People of the Heavens,” (Such is the literal meaning of “Amazulu”) said Dingane. “Talk we now of the land. As ye say, I have not much use, nor my people, for this land – yet it is a large country. I know not. I must consider it further. Yet stay, there is somewhat ye can do for us as a pledge and an earnest of our future friendship.”
“And that?”
“Yonder in the mountains dwells a dog, the head of a tribe of dogs – not large, but difficult to come at, because of the ruggedness of the country they inhabit. This dog has stolen much cattle and many horses from my people and hidden them away in his mountain retreats. Now I am without warriors, for the army is away on two expeditions to the northward.”
We who listened thought we saw the countenances of the Amabuna change at this, and inwardly we laughed. If they only knew – ah, if they only knew!
“Wherefore,” went on the King, “if as an earnest of your friendship ye will go and retake this our property, and restore it to us, then it may be we may grant you the use of the land ye need.”
“And what is the name of the chief of these robbers, King?” asked the Amabuna.
“U’ Sikonyela.”
“The cattle shall be restored, King. Do you require Sikonyela to be delivered up to you?”
“No. I am merciful, and will spare him this time. Only warn him that now the Amazulu and the Amabuna are brothers. Now, fare-ye-well. When ye have obtained the restoration of our property, then return hither, and we will talk further about the land.”
Then the Amabuna rose and shook the King by the hand, and we, as they took leave of us, all called out “Hambani-gahle!” (“Go ye in peace”) with right good-will. So they took their horses and guns and rode away from Nkunkundhlovu, very pleased with themselves and with the King. But the multitude of armed warriors concealed within the huts were not pleased, in that there was no work for their spears that day; but that was to come. Ah, yea! plenty of work would there be for their spears before many moons were dead.
And we izinduna, how we laughed among ourselves, for we knew the mind of Dingane. These people must in truth be mad, and worse than mad, to think that the King would give them a vast tract of country in exchange for their friendship and a few cattle – would welcome this swarm of buzzing devouring locusts beating down upon our lands. Hau! Mad, indeed, were they. They opened their mouth wide – very wide – and we thought we knew how we would fill it, but not with the country that lay between the Tugela and the Umzimvubu. Oh, no!
There were some among us who would have persuaded Dingane to order the death of the Umfundisi, for we feared lest he should warn the Amabuna; but this the King refused to do. The white teacher was not of their race, and he had no quarrel with the English; besides, the very feet of a white man being slain would implant suspicion in the minds of the new arrivals. But the Umfundisi, unknown to himself, was closely watched, and meanwhile our plans were fully matured.
Chapter Fourteen.
The Head of the Snake
No great time went by before those Amabuna returned, having sent word that they were bringing the cattle and horses taken from Sikonyela. There were about three-score and ten, and with them, their slaves – yellow men – to attend them and their horses.
Dingane had received them in but little state before. Now, however, he received them in a great deal. He was attended by all his izinduna and war captains, with the shield-bearer, and the praisers shouting aloud his names with all the power of their mighty voices; and as the Amabuna rode into Nkunkundhlovu by the lower gate and paced, two by two, up to the centre of the great space, two regiments, in full war array, began a grand dance on either side of them, singing a new song in honour of our guests:
“The mouth of the white man is open;
It shall be filled – it shall be filled.
Wide, wide, is it open;
Full, full, very full shall it be filled.
“Lo! they come, the friends of the Amanita;
Full, full, shall their mouths be filled.
The lion of Zulu is as the sun in the heavens;
In his warmth – in his warmth shall his new brothers grow great.”
This and much more did the warriors sing, Nkose, all referring to the hunger for land of these invading whites. They little knew in what manner their mouths were destined to be filled.
“Now we have the head of the snake at last,” growled Tambusa to us in an undertone, during the thunder and din of the singing. “Soon shall his tail, too, cease its writhings.”
Signing the dance and song to cease, the King ordered the cattle taken from Sikonyela to be brought up. The herd was driven past, outside the fence of the kraal. It was not much of a herd, but Dingane was as full of delight over its recovery as though it represented the wealth of a whole nation. Now, he said, he felt sure of the friendship and good faith of these his new brothers; but we, watching, thought: “Can these people be such fools as to think we shall give them half our country in exchange for a few miserable beasts like this?”
Then, while talking about the cattle, Dingane asked the Amabuna to show him how they took cattle from other people in war. This they were very ready to do, and the King having sent the herd some little distance away over the plain, the Amabuna sprang upon their hones and galloped to the place. They dismounted and fired their guns – loaded with powder only – leaping into the saddle again and reloading as they rode; then returning and firing again upon our people, who had been told off to take part in this mimic war. Finally, while some kept on firing, others got between the cattle and our men, and, with shouts and yells, swept the beasts forward. On they came at full gallop, then letting the herd rush wildly by, these three-score and ten Amabuna, as they came before the King, drew up their horses suddenly and in line, and fired their guns in the air in royal salute.
It was well and cleverly done, Nkose, and Dingane was delighted with it, and so, indeed, were we – looking at it as a spectacle. But more than ever were we agreed that men who could make war in that fashion were not the people to welcome as neighbours in a country as large as our own, and with nothing but a river between us and them. Oh, no!
For two whole days the Amabuna remained in their camp outside, and most of the time was spent in talking over the question of the large piece of our country they expected to swallow up. They were well entertained – for many oxen were slaughtered – and the King ordered abundance of beef and beer to be supplied to them – and, indeed, everything they should want. But during this time our spies and runners had reported that their main camp, where the bulk of their people, with their cattle and women, were left, was peaceful and unsuspicious, and that the men were spread out over the country far and wide, hunting and looking at the land —our land – which they hoped should soon be theirs.
On the third night, when all men slept, the King took secret counsel of his principal izinduna, and among them was I; for by reason of having met these people in battle, whereas as yet the Amazulu had not, my opinions carried weight.
“Now I think the time has come to stamp out this locust swarm,” said Dingane.
“We have here the head of the snake,” said Tambusa.
“That shall be crushed to-morrow,” said the King.
“But the writhings of its tail will shake the earth, bringing another snake from over the mountains,” put in Umhlela, thinking of the waggon camp and all the Amabuna left there.
“What sayest thou, Untúswa?” said the King, turning to me.
“This, Great Great One. To destroy a locust swarm and to spare the eggs is of no great use. And the ‘eggs’ of this locust swarm are yonder.”
“Ha! Thou art no fool, Untúswa,” said the King, knowing that I meant the women and children of the invaders.
“This is my counsel, Great Great One. When the forerunners of this locust swarm sleep for ever tomorrow, let those be sent who shall stamp flat the remainder, sparing none.”
All murmured in deep assent, and I continued:
“Let the camp of these plunderers be destroyed as quickly and as silently as possible. Then let strong bodies of warriors waylay the return of those outside. Such, suspecting nothing, will walk into the snare, so shall we be rid of the whole swarm. Thus, on like occasion, acted he whom I formerly served, and our success was thorough.”
“Thou hast the mind of a leader of men Untúswa,” said the King, greatly pleased. “Thou thyself shalt go to-morrow, and see thine own plans carried out.”
I thanked the King, and when we had talked a little longer over our plans we left the presence and went to our huts to sleep, our hearts beating with fierce anticipation over the thought of what the morrow was to bring.
Soon after daybreak Dingane sent word to the Amabuna, who were our visitors, that the time had come to speak decisively about the land, that he had talked the matter over in council with the izinduna of the nation, and now he wanted them all to come into Nkunkundhlovu that all might hear his word and carry it back to their people, who awaited it and them.
Accordingly it was not long before the whole company of the Amabuna, with their slaves and attendants rode up to the gate. But there they were met by some who told them they must leave their horses and guns without the gate. This they liked not at all, objecting that on every other occasion of their visit they had been allowed to enter armed and mounted.
That was true, but on those occasions there were war dances, and the white men themselves had delighted their Amazulu brethren with a mounted display. But this was entirely a peace indaba. No warriors were in Nkunkundhlovu, and it was dead against Zulu custom for strangers to come before the King armed on such an occasion. In fact the King would be highly offended, and would almost certainly refuse to receive them at all.
Less and less did the Amabuna like this proposal. They muttered hurriedly among themselves; then it was just as we knew it would be. They dismounted, stacked their guns outside, and giving their horses to their attendants to hold, entered the kraal.
“Whau! The head of the snake is now under the shadow of the stone that shall crush it,” quoth fierce Tambusa, as we watched the approach of the unarmed Amabuna.
They saluted the King gravely, and sat down; but many of them looked displeased and troubled, and well they might, for what is more helpless than an unarmed man! This time the King, with the izinduna, was seated near the centre of the open space, not at the upper end, as usual.
They spoke about the land. They were glad the King was to give them his word that morning, for the hearts of their countrymen would be glad too, when they should carry back that word.
Now great bowls of tywala were brought, and as the white men drank, the King talked to them. He rejoiced that that great stretch of country should be used by his friends and brothers, the Amabuna. There were a few useless cowardly tribes still in that country, people whom he had spared, but who were thieves; and these he hoped his new friends would prevent from annoying him.
While Dingane was thus talking, people had been coming into the open space by twos and threes, and now there was quite a number of men within the circle. These bearing no arms, but a stick only, roused no suspicion in the minds of the Amabuna, not even when they formed into two lines, or half circles, and began to dance; singing the while the song they had sung to welcome these people on their first arrival.
“The mouth of the white man is open;
It shall be filled – it shall be filled.
Lo! they come, the friends of the Amazulu;
Full, very full, shall their mouths be filled.”
Swaying backward and forward, the two half circles danced, now joining at the lower end, so as to form a wall of bodies between those in the centre and the outer gate, now parting again, and leaving the ends open. And, the while, more and more by degrees swelled the number, and the song rose and fell, not loud, but in long-drawn measured note. The while the King was speaking:
“Fare-ye-well, my brothers,” he said. “Perchance I shall visit ye in this new land, when ye come to dwell in it. Depart now in peace to your countrymen, and tell them how good are the hearts of the Amazulu towards you, how good the heart of their King. Fare-ye-well! Hambani-gahle.” (“Go ye in peace.”)
Dingane had risen while he was speaking, and now, with these words, he turned to depart. The Amabuna, too, had risen.
“The white man’s mouth opens very wide;
It shall be filled – it shall be filled.”
So howled the singers; and lo! a mass of warriors swept in between the King and these strangers; we, the izinduna, being outside the circle. With alarm now in their faces, the Amabuna turned quickly towards the gate whereby they had entered. But on that side, too, the circle was complete. Then they knew that their time had come. They were walled in by a dense array of stalwart warriors.
Now began such a struggle as never could have been seen. Our people had sticks, but were otherwise unarmed, for they might not kill within the precincts of the King’s kraal. The Amabuna, too, were unarmed, for it was to this end they had been obliged to leave their guns outside the gate. But many of them were large and powerful men, and all fought with the courage of desperate men. They struck out with their fists, and with their feet; they tore out eyes; some were able to draw knives, and with these they slashed and thrust, making the blood fly in spouts. Whau! That was a struggle – that was a sight. Whau! Hither and thither it swayed – that heaving, striving mass – the shouts and curses of the desperate Amabuna rising hoarse amid the din and scuffle of feet, the gasping and the yells, as those of our warriors who were on the outside of the struggle encouraged those within it by yell and whistle. Whau! How they howled and leapt, how they swung to and fro, how they even rolled on the ground – great heaps of men piled high upon each other, but all kicking, all struggling. But it could not last, for what could three-score and ten men, all unarmed, however valorous, do against a thousand, or, indeed, several thousand? They were borne down and overpowered at last – some were bound with thongs – but all were dragged out from Nkunkundhlovu to the place where those were killed whom the King adjudged to die, and there beaten to death with sticks, as the usual manner was.
“Hau! The head of the snake is now crushed!” cried Tambusa. “Hambani-gahle, abatagati!” (“Go in peace, doer of dark deeds.”)
Then the hissing and the roars of the savage slayers ceased, and the whole mass of our people trooped back from the place of slaughter, howling, in derision, the song they had made for the Amabuna.
“The mouth of the white man is open very wide;
It has been filled – it has been filled.”
Thus they died, those Amabuna – nor did one of them escape; for even their servants, whom they had left outside to hold their horses, were all seized at the same time, and taken to the place of doom. As Tambusa had declared, the head of the snake was crushed at last.
It is said by you white people, Nkose, that Dingane acted a cruel and treacherous part in thus causing the leaders of the Amabuna to be slain. That may be, when seen with a white man’s eyes. But seen with ours the thing is different. These Amabuna had come to take a large portion of the Zulu country from the Zulu people, and, had they done so, how long would it have been before they had taken the whole? They made a show of asking the land from the King, but had Dingane refused to listen to them, would they have gone back the way they came? Is that the manner of the Amabuna, I would ask you, Nkose? Again, if their hearts were good, and free from deceit, why did they not send messengers to Nkunkundhlovu before they entered the land as they did, to obtain the answer of the King and the Zulu people? But instead of doing this, they came over Kwahlamba in great numbers, with their horses and their guns, their waggons and their oxen, their cattle and their women, falling upon the land like a vast swarm of devouring locusts. Whether they obtained leave or not, they had come to stay, and that we did not wish; and further, by thus entering the Zulu country in armed force without the King’s permission! they had deserved death.
It is true that these people who had been slain were the King’s guests, but then we have a custom under which one great chief must not go to the kraal of another great chief of equal rank. The great chief of the Amabuna claimed to be the equal of the House of Senzangakona. He did not approach the King as a subject, but as an equal; and by our custom Dingane was justified in causing him and his followers to be slain, for he had placed himself within the power of the King, and that as an equal. Whau, Nkose! You white people and ourselves see things differently, and I suppose it will always be so. Dingane and the Zulu people did not choose these invaders to seize their land, so they used what they thought was the quickest and easiest way of preventing them from doing so.